#and it wouldn't make the rest of it any less confusing
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I Hate My Eyes: A Hello Neighbor Fanfic
By JJ
Summary: Nicky tries to get his eyes back to normal.
(P.S., for @limoks-blogs !)
It was the end of the week, and Nicky was slowly starting to get better.
He wasn't sneezing so much anymore, and his throat felt less scratchy. Probably because Mr. Murtaugh had been making him take two spoons of whatever gross cold medicine each day.
Thankfully, Nicky was getting better, and he wouldn't have to take any of that stuff for a long time.
But there was one thing Nicky wished would get better.
His eyes.
He didn't feel like there was anything wrong with him. They didn't sting, strain or burn or anything, they were just...brown. At first, he didn't really care, but he noticed how a couple of people kept pointing it out.
His eyes were once jade, now they were brown.
Those jade eyes he once had made him look so lively and so happy, but now his brown eyes made him look dead inside.
And he didn't like it.
So as soon as he was well enough to go to school again, he waited until everyone was out of Mr. Murtaugh's classroom and went to see him.
He didn't have a session that day, since the science teacher said he had a meeting after school, but Nicky really needed to see him.
He waited until 4:00, slowly falling asleep as he waited for Mr. Murtaugh or anyone else from the meeting to walk out the door like they were finished. He woke up to his shoulder being nudged.
"Nicholas."
Nicky sat up and rubbed his eyes. "Hey.", he said, feeling a little lightheaded.
"Nicky, what are you doing here? I told you I needed to cancel our session today.", said the science teacher.
"I know, it's just that I needed to talk to you about something important."
Mr. Murtaugh led the boy inside his classroom and shut the door behind him. "What did you need to talk about, dear?", he asked.
Nicky looked down at his shoes, then back at Mr. Murtaugh. "Do you notice anything different about me?", he asked.
The science teacher tapped his chin, then he held Nicky's face in his hands and pulled him closer. He looked at both sides of his face, then under his chin, then around the rest of his body.
"Hmm...I'm not sure.", he said. "I normally take notes of what I notice about my students."
Nicky sighed, "It's my eyes."
The science teacher looked at him again, and his eyes widened. "Oh yes, I can't believe I didn't notice. I feel like I should have."
Nicky looked down at his shoes again.
"What's the matter with your eyes? Do they hurt?"
Nicky shook his head, "They were once jade, but now they're brown. I don't like it."
Mr. Murtaugh furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, "I'm afraid I still don't understand.", he said.
"People keep pointing out how my eye color has changed ever since I escaped Mr. Peterson's basement. I didn't notice it before, but now that people keep pointing it out, I don't like my eyes at all anymore. I hate them now."
The science teacher gently pulled the boy closer to him, "Nicky, don't say stuff like that.", he said. "I may not know what Mr. Peterson had done to you to make your eyes change colors, but I promise that I will find a way to get them back to normal. Just for you."
Nicky smiled, "Thank you, sir."
"Anytime.", said Mr. Murtaugh, "Now run along, dear."
The next day, when Nicky got home from school, he was surprised to walk into his room and see a small white bottle. He went over to it and picked it up, reading the label.
"Eye Changer"
On the bottle was a little sticky note, and he read the note as he slowly opened the bottle.
"Put two drops of these in your eyes each day and your eyes should be back to normal in no time."
Nicky went to the bathroom and opened the bottle, talking a small bit of it in the tube attached to the cap. He slowly held the tube over his right eye and gently squeezed it, a single drop going into his eye.
The same thing he did to his other eye.
He blinked a couple of times. When he opened his eyes a little bit, he noticed that a small hint of jade was shining through his brown eyes.
He pressed his face to the mirror and smiled so wide, tears falling down his cheeks.
Soon enough, his beautiful jade eyes would turn back to normal, and he'd have his old self back in no time!
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The thing abut metal gear lore that bothers me the most is still the clone shit in mgs1.
How do other people interpret the "dominant twin/recessive twin" and the twist that David is actually the one who got all the "recessive genes"? Like, what the fuck did they mean by that?
Like, what the hell does that even mean to begin with?? They took all of BB's recessive hets and manipulated them to be homo for one of the kids? Like?? That's not a clone then and also why?? Isn't the point to recreate Big Boss??
As for the twist, it's visibly not true because Eli is blonde...? That's the only visible difference between him and solid. Did daddy John Doe just happen to have extremely low heterozygosity??? Why make this specific design choice if it goes against the twist? Was Eli's hair color backwards engineered from the Master Miller twist and given no extra thought? (probably, yes.)
Does Kojima know what a recessive gene is? (probably not.)
What did they mean by any of it???? Aside form the logical inconsistencies what are we supposed to take away from it? What does it mean!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!?
#“they dye their hair” is a good coping mechanism for dealing with this inconsistency but I don't think it's relevant when it comes to canon#and it wouldn't make the rest of it any less confusing#metal gear solid#solid snake#liquid snake#mgs1#les enfants terribles#analysis#???
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Alessia, "I didn't cheat on you, it was just a dream babe!", mad alessia at training
disloyal dreams II a.russo
"-are you going to be like this all day?" you sighed as you tried to start a conversation with the blonde beside you who shrugged, again refusing to give you any sort of verbal response.
"alessia. the silent treatment, really?" you repeated, eyes burning into the side of her head as she shrugged and you dragged your hands down your face exhaling heavily.
"i thought we were good at communication. we've been together for a year and a half!" you reminded, alessia dead silent as her fingers drummed against the steering wheel and she came to a stop at a red light.
"less, babe will you just tell me what i've done wrong? i can't fix it if i don't know what i did!" you groaned frustrated, the blonde only leaning forward and turning up the stereo louder making you wince.
"fine, be like this then." you grumbled with a shake of your head, crossing your arms and staring out the window, knowing her well enough that the striker when warranted could be incredibly stubborn.
though the problem you were having today is you weren't even sure where this grudge she had against you was coming from. you'd gone to bed and things were all fine and normal, the pair of you ordering in and falling asleep cuddled up together watching a movie in the living room as you often did.
you'd woken up first, slowly shaking the taller girl on top of you until she did too and the two of you had stumbled tiredly to bed. her long limbs entrapping you in her hold the moment your backs hit the mattress, eyes heavy and a few sleepy kisses exchanged, all seemed fine.
but then this morning you'd woken up to an empty bed, frowning right away as alessia was almost never the first one awake between you.
in fact over the time you'd been together even before you'd moved in with her whenever you slept over at alessia's you'd learned to set your alarm a half an hour earlier than either of you had to be up because it took that long to coax the sleepy blonde to actually get up.
your confusion only grew further when a quick search of the house showed it to be empty, your calls out for your girlfriend going unanswered both vocal and on the phone, a sense of worry beginning to settle in.
however right before it really hit its peak you heard keys in the front door, racing down the stairs and breathing out in relief when she stepped inside, body coated in a thin sheen of sweat and hair pulled back into a bun.
you tried to speak to her and draw her into a hug, mumbling ut you'd been worried sick and asking why she hadn't at least left a note or sent a text but all you got was a shrug and a grumble she needed a shower.
ever since then the most your girlfriend had said was maybe three words, the rest of her responses all grunts or hums as at first you thought maybe she hadn't slept well and was just tired.
though then it started to feel a lot more personal and as much as you'd asked and asked and asked, she wouldn't tell you just why she was so seemingly upset with you or what you'd done to earn such a stubborn silence.
pulling into the training grounds you tried again to ask if the two of you could talk, trying to angle that it wasn't healthy to go into training if she was in a bad head space but all that resulted in was a door closed in your face and a rap of her knuckles against your window a moment later, wordlessly telling you to hurry up.
despite the fact alessia could be one of the most sweet, kind and downright lovely human beings you'd ever had the pleasure to know let alone fall in love with, she still had her share of off day but normally she was quite good at hiding them from your teammates.
today however she didn't seem to care in the slightest, making no move to disguise the fact she wasn't talking to you and clearly was in a mood, the tension thick and uncomfortable as you stared at her longingly across the change rooms.
"mate. what did you do to that poor girl?" leah flopped herself down in her own cubby beside you as you sighed, alessia not even sparing you a glance as she laced her boots up and stormed out, ignoring both emily and lotte who tried to stop and speak with her clearly sensing she wasn't okay.
"nothing! well at least not that i can work out? i've been given the silent treatment all morning." you huffed with a roll of your eyes, wrestling to undo the tight knots in your boots and sending kyra a venemous glare across the room who was clearly the culprit.
but sensing maybe today was not the day to have pushed your buttons the australian was quick to shrink beneath your murderous stare, taking off out of the room within seconds flat.
"give it here." leah chuckled, having already undone your other boot as you shoved it at her and sunk down into your seat, stroppy look on your face and mouth turned downward into a sour pout.
"did you have an argument?" "no." "did you not do something you said you would?" "I don't think so?" "did you forget an anniversary? birthday? special date?" "definitely not." "did you..." leah trailed off, clearly trying to think of something to say.
"nah i've got nothing. good luck sunshine!" the blonde shrugged, pinching your cheek and handing you the now untangled boot. "leah!" you groaned, hoping for the older girl to at least have had perhaps some wisdom to offer.
throughout the day your confusion only grew when the stony silence continued, the two of you at least kept mostly separate for the majority of training, having grown embarrassed now by your shut down attempts to talk to alessia.
thankfully bar a few ill timed comments from some of your younger peers who hadn't yet learnt how to read a room everyone backed off the teasing you'd been worried about, most of them just as confused as you by the air of frustration and irritation radiating off the blonde striker.
"fucking hell less!" leah swore, barely able to duck out of the way of a poorly timed but incredibly powerful strike which rocketed past her ear and swooshed into the back of the goal.
you however were not so lucky, admittedly quite out of it most of the session as your brain ticked over and you overthought every little action and interaction you'd had with the blonde in the last twenty four hours.
it was this distraction which caused you to have zoned out on the sidelines, staring off into space and triple checking in your head every significant event and date to try and work out just why your girlfriend was so clearly off with you.
but you were grounded right back into reality when suddenly something hit you very hard and very fast right in the face, the unexpected ball knocking you on your ass as you felt something wet drip down your face and you started to feel a little woozy.
you watched as both your teammates and some of the staff crowded around you, seeing their mouths moving but unable to decipher what was being said due to the obnoxious ringing in your head.
the medics eventually arrived, shooing everyone away to give you some space and a collective slightly disgusted groan sounded as suddenly you lurched forward and emptied the contents of your breakfast onto the grass beside you.
you winced as a bright light was shone right in your eyes, trying to bat away the hand responsible as someone else grabbed your wrists and stopped you.
blinking a few times as finally the light went away and your hearing returned right in time to hear one word before you were helped to your feet and walked off the pitch.
concussion.
you sighed heavily but nodded as you laid down on one of the padded benches in the medic office, the lights dim and one of the trainee's running you through the concussion protocol you knew like the back of your hand.
with a heavy sigh you felt him squeeze your knee in a silent apology before ducking out to grab some paperwork, an incident report needing to be done as you covered your face with your hands and felt your heartbeat thump in your ears.
when you heard the door open again you assumed he'd returned and you might be cleared to leave, but to your surprise when you looked up there was a different person now looking down on you, your bag slung over her shoulder and car keys in hand.
you didn't expect her to say anything and you didn't have it in you for an argument, so with a grunt you pulled yourself into a seated position, her hands quick to steady you and you hated how good it felt to feel her touch even in such a minimal way.
"you cheated on me."
your head snapped up so fast you felt your neck throb and the headache settling behind your eyes pulse as you sat in a state of shock, sure you'd just heard her incorrectly.
"i-what?" you managed to croak out, the blonde fiddling with the strap of the bag as she nodded. "you cheated on me." she repeated and just like earlier you felt a horrendous sense of nausea settle in.
"i think i'm going to be sick." you began to panic, bile rising in your throat as you looked around desperately for a sick bag of some sort as alessia's hands settled on your cheeks and you tensed up.
"you cheated on me last night." she repeated in a tone so soft you almost didn't hear her, incredibly confused and now wondering just how hard you'd hit your head as you blinked.
"alessia. what? i-baby i would never ever chea-" you couldn't even get the words out until the blonde shook her head, one of her hands coming to cover your mouth, an odd look of guilt now present on her face which had you even more confused.
"in my dream, last night. you cheated on me in my dream, that's why i've been so off with you today..." the blonde bit her bottom lip with a wince as you paused, slowly moving her hands off of you as she shifted nervously.
"i didn't cheat on you." "no." "but you thought i did?" "kind of? i know it was a dream, but it felt really real!"
"alessia..." you trailed off in disbelief, the trainee from earlier taking one step inside as the pair of you looked at him and clearly sensing he might have been interrupting he quickly ducked back out of the room with a mumble you were free to go.
"i still think you should say sorry." the blonde seemed to regain her confidence as your jaw dropped and you looked at her in bewilderment. "for what?" you squeaked out, alessia sighing and shaking her head.
"for cheating on me." "i didn't cheat on you? it was just a dream babe!" you threw your hands up with a scoff and hissed, your head throbbing as your eyes squeezed shut.
"okay. well since you have a concussion, i'll forgive you anyway." alessia decided, stepping forward to stand in between your legs and giving you a smile as if she'd just done you a favour.
"you'll forgive me?" "yes. now baby we should really get you home, i've got your concussion plan and you have to come in tomorrow for a re-assessment." alessia nodded, patting your bag and holding our a hand to help you up as you stared at her with narrowed eyes.
"you'll forgive me. for ignoring me all day and making me feel like i've done the wrong thing? like i'm the the crazy one?" you stuttered out still in shock that this was the reason for her cold shoulder and off put behavior.
"hey! you can't use that." alessia snatched your phone out of your hand and slid it into your bag with a tut. "i need it." you held your hand out expectantly and rolled your eyes as your girlfriend had the audacity to laugh.
"for what?" she questioned as you smacked away her attempted helping hands and she frowned.
"because i need to write a note." "a note?" "yes alessia. a note that when my head isn't absolutely throbbing i am going to yell at you and then give you the silent treatment all day!"
"what! baby why? you cheated on me, and i forgave you?" "i cannot control my actions in a dream alessia, and so i didn't cheat on you!" "baby you shouldn't get so worked up, you'll make your headache worse." "dating you is a headache russo." "...so is now a bad time to ask for that apology?" "it was a dream alessia!"
#woso x reader#alessia russo x reader#alessia russo imagine#alessia russo#woso#woso community#woso fanfics#woso blurbs#woso imagine
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Protecting Boyfriend | Quinn Hughes
summary — During the Canucks home game, a man says some not-so-nice words to you because you're wearing a Hughes jersey. When Quinn finds out, he does everything he can to protect you and makes sure you get the pep talk you need to hear
pairing — quinn hughes x reader
words — 2165
warning — not-so-nice- words
A wide smile formed on your lips as you entered the Rogers Arena.
Today would be the game against the Coyotes that you've been looking forward to for the past week.
You can't wait to support your boyfriend Quinn and the rest of the team live in person, and then at home, in your own stadium.
You slowly walk down the stairs to your seat, from which you have a perfect view of the entire ice.
But from your seat you not only have a good view of the field, but also of the Canucks players who are seated not far from you.
That way, if your boyfriend wasn't on the field, you'd get a good look at number 43.
You can hardly wait for the stadium to fill up and the 1st period to begin.
In fact, it doesn't take too long before the stadium starts to fill up and various people fill the seats with their jerseys bearing the shirt numbers of their favorite players.
Today you are also wearing the blue Canucks jersey with Quinn's number on it, which you wear at every game you attend.
From the beginning, it was natural for you to show up at your games in his jersey and not to wear any expensive clothes to make your appearance at Quinn's games a kind of catwalk.
There were many wives or girlfriends of players who used the games to get themselves all dressed up and did half a shooting during the game to get likes and attention on Instagram or various other platforms.
But you've never been like this before. Supporting Quinn has always been your number one priority and that will never change.
"Hello," an older man in a Canucks jersey greets you as he sits down on the happy seat next to you.
"Hello," you reply in a friendly manner and give the man a friendly smile.
As your gaze begins to wander through the now full stadium and the noise level slowly rises, you feel a gaze on you.
Slowly, you turn your face in the direction of the man who had greeted you kindly just a few minutes ago.
Now there's a crinkled look on your face as he eyes you intently and begins to make you feel uncomfortable.
You've always been a little reserved around strangers, so the words that now leave your mouth surprise you.
"Is everything all right? Or is something wrong?"
The man begins to mumble something into his beard, which you can't understand due to the volume level.
"Excuse me? What did they say?" you ask as your heart starts to beat a little faster with nervousness.
You just want to watch the game in peace, without incident.
"I said that it's obvious that you're wearing a Hughes jersey of all things, like almost all the young women here."
"What makes you think that?"
The confusion was written all over your face. Of course you know that there are a lot of fans wearing the number 43 jersey, but there certainly weren't that many in the stadium just now.
"You young women now only pick players who look good. Most of you aren't even interested in the sport itself," he rants, causing you to look shocked.
You expected anything, but not this. What is wrong with this older man? And above all, what the hell did he have the nerve to say that to you?
Stunned, you start to shake your head and just as you've thought of the perfect answer, it gets loud and the teams enter the ice.
Probably better that way, because at least the man next to you was quiet and you could more or less enjoy the game.
Because you wouldn't let him ruin the day you've been looking forward to for a week.
—
The man had actually kept his mouth shut to you the whole game.
But when Quinn scored a goal and you, like several other fans, jumped up and cheered loudly, you heard other comments coming from his direction, but you couldn't hear them over the loud cheering and music.
Now the game is over, which the Canucks won 2-1.
A broad smile returns to your face, but it is immediately extinguished when the man next to you stands up and gives you an annoyed look.
"Well you fangirl? Did you even watch and understand the game? Or were you just undressing Hughes with your eyes?" His voice growls slightly, making you flinch and reflexively wrap your arms around your body.
This can't be true. Why can't the man just leave you alone and make his way home?
Even if you were just a fangirl who was only there because of Quinn, that wouldn't be his problem.
You just shake your head and leave your seat.
As you climb the stairs to get to the exit, you try not to let on too much how much the man has intimidated you and you're starting to panic.
It's all good, y/n. Just keep walking. You'll be with Quinn in a minute, you repeat the phrases over and over in your head as you leave the stadium, a light breeze blowing through your hair.
You breathe out deeply and close your eyes for a few seconds before opening them again and mingling with the crowd of fans to get to the back of the stadium.
There you will meet Quinn so that you can finally embrace him and congratulate him on his victory.
As you reach the back entrance, where a barrier has already been erected in front of the exit and one or two fans are already waiting to intercept their favorite player, you look around.
So as not to get in the way of any of the fans, you stand in the corner of the barrier so that everyone else has enough space. After all, you're not there to get autographs or photos, but to wait for your boyfriend.
But luck was not on your side. A few seconds later, the man you just met stands next to you and looks at you with an annoyed expression.
"Well, are you trying to get your hands on Hughes?" There is disgust in his voice. He speaks so quietly that only you can hear him.
Your heart begins to hammer faster against your ribs as your hands claw at the barrier and you try to stay calm.
"Stop it," you whisper on the verge of tears, which makes you angry with yourself for showing the man weakness.
But you can't do anything about it. The words and the way he treats you start to burn on your soul and reopen some old wounds.
You don't have an answer ready, but if you were honest with yourself, no perfect answer would shut the man up.
As the first players come out of the stadium and start signing autographs and taking photos with their fans, you stand on tiptoe to get a better look at when Quinn will finally arrive.
Quinn was never one of the first to leave the dressing room and then the stadium, so it would be a while before he arrived.
You would survive these few minutes - hopefully.
"Don't get your hopes up, sweetie. Hughes would never take you home," the man laughs as he steps closer to you.
"If they only knew..." You mumble, unaware that you've just spoken your thoughts out loud as you take a step to the side to put more distance between you.
"Excuse me?" the man hisses.
"I said, if they knew," you start and then gather all your courage for the next words that leave your mouth. "He's my boyfriend."
The man next to you starts to laugh out loud, attracting the attention not only of the other fans, but also of one or two of the players.
Confused, Dakota, Conor and Elias look in your direction. It took a few seconds for the three's eyes to grow wide as they recognize you and realize what's happening right in front of them.
"Hey, man. Do you want an autograph too?" Dakota asks as he approaches you and the man.
Dakota gives you a warm and gentle look, trying to make you realize that everything is going to be okay.
"Oh, I'd love to!" The man beams now and starts to engage Dakota in a conversation in which he is overly friendly.
Out of the corner of your eye, you see Elias run back into the stadium, followed shortly afterwards by Quinn.
Relief spreads through your body as you spot Quinn, who looks anything but pleased.
He looks angry.
Elias must have summarized everything for Quinn.
Several fans start yelling for Quinn, but he only has eyes for you.
He approaches you with quick steps, puts his hands on your hips and lifts you over the barrier.
"Are you okay, babe?" You ask him as you feel his tense muscles under the suit.
"I should ask you if you're okay, if anything. Why didn't you say anything?" Quinn looks down at you with a worried expression.
"I couldn't have said that during the game..." you begin, but are immediately interrupted by Quinn.
"But during the break. You could have texted me or come to the dressing room."
Quinn strokes your hair gently as he continues to look at you with concern.
His muscles relax slightly under your hand, which is still on his chest.
But you know that won't last long.
"I wouldn't take her home tonight!" A voice calls out, making you flinch.
Immediately, Quinn's muscles tense again as his face becomes angry again and his hands automatically clench into fists.
"Quinn..." You begin, but Quinn doesn't seem to hear you at all.
He gently pushes you over to Elias, who has become like a big brother to you over the last few years, when you've spent a lot of time with him and Quinn.
"Elias..." You mumble anxiously as you look up at the blond.
"Don't worry, y/n. He won't do anything stupid," Elias promises you, but you're not even sure if you can really believe his words.
From a safe distance, you watch Quinn more or less stumble the man together.
As you do, you pick up a few scraps of words, like "My girlfriend...She doesn't deserve this...Greatest person on earth...Our team doesn't need fans like you..."
It's not long before the man is taken away by security and Quinn returns to you.
Sniffling, you throw yourself into his strong arms, which he wraps tightly around you and presses you gently against him.
"I'm sorry," Quinn mumbles into your hair.
"It's not your fault," you sniffle as you look up at him and see a few tears in his eyes.
"But he hurt you and said things to your head that no one should ever hear. And if you get hurt, it hurts me here too."
Quinn reaches for your hand and places it where his heart is.
"Oh, Quinn..." you whisper as countless tears begin to roll down your cheeks.
He was incredibly sweet to you and now, after you had to hear those nasty and caustic words from the man, he made sure that you were moved to tears.
"If that happens again - which I hope it doesn't. Would I like you to come straight to me, Elias or another one of my colleagues, yes?"
Quinn looks you in the eye and then kisses your forehead.
"I promise," you murmur as you snuggle back into his arms and enjoy his strong, warm arms.
All the words that had hurt you just a moment ago disappeared as if by magic while you were in Quinn's arms and enjoying his closeness.
"I want you to forget all those words that man banged on your head, y/n. You know none of those words are true. I know it's hard to get these words out of my head, but I hope they help you. You're the best person I've ever met. You are the love of my life. You're always there for me, you make me feel better no matter how bad I'm feeling, you make me laugh and just your presence makes me feel good. I love you y/n and I could go on and on, but then we'd be here until tomorrow and I hope these words help you forget all the crap he's thrown at you."
His words caused a tear or two to roll down your cheeks. You were touched by how lovingly he treated you and had the perfect words to make you feel better.
And Quinn's words actually manage to put all the man's words out of your head once and for all.
Quinn was not only your friend, but also your protector.
Even though you do this side of him and you like how protective he is of you, you hope that something like today won't happen again.
#quinn hughes x y/n#quinn hughes x you#quinn hughes x reader#quinn hughes#quinn hughes imagine#nhl x y/n#nhl oneshot#nhl fanfiction#nhl x reader#nhl imagine#nhl fic#nhl#nhl hockey
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You carry Bakugo back to his dorm room. 『 ♡ - k.bakugo x fem!reader 』 -`✧ katsuki bakugo masterlist
A quiet night at the dorms of UA, you're sitting in Midoriya's dorm room with Bakugo. The three of you are studying for an upcoming exam while sprawled out with notebooks and text books haphazardly all over the floor.
The time is slowly creeping up to 10:00pm - way past Bakugo's "normal" bedtime. He's leaning on his elbow while annotating a paragraph in his textbook, eyes slowly drooping shut. The pen in his hand grows looser as his arm rocks back and forth, about to collapse at any moment and let his head rest on the pages.
Midoriya shoots a glance your way, silently acknowledging how exhausted Bakugo looks. You both had attempted, multiple times, to get him to go to bed. He refused.
"I can fuckin' finish this. It's only a few more pages."
Bakugo was determined, and stubborn, to get his work done - just like anything else in his life. You peer out of the corner of your eye as he shifts, crossing his arms over the textbook and laying his head down on his forearms.
"Kat, you can go to bed if you're wiped out," you say, patting him on the shoulder. "Studying on top of sparring is enough to kick anyone's ass."
Bakugo grunts, sighing into the papers beneath him. " 'm fine."
You look at Midoriya and mouth, 'he'll be out in five minutes or less.'
And like clockwork, Bakugo passes the hell out, snoring atop the open textbook.
You gently stroke his back to get his attention. "Kat, come on. Let's get you to bed."
He doesn't stir at your voice or touch but rolls over on his side. You shake your head, chuckling to yourself as you cast a smile in Midoriya's direction. It's a good thing you're a hero in training or you wouldn't have the strength to do what you're about to.
In one fluid motion, you bend over and scoop Bakugo into your arms and lift him from the floor. He's much lighter than you expected him to be - you always assumed he'd be dense from the sheer amount of muscle mass that adorned his figure. He still doesn't wake and lulls his head against your arm, mouth hanging open and snoring peacefully.
'Wow, he must be exhausted if this isn't enough to wake him.'
Midoriya opens the door for you and follows you upstairs. He opens the door to Bakugo's room for you as well, considering you - quite literally - have your hands full. He waves and mouths 'good night!' as he shuts the door to leave.
Making your way over to Bakugo's bed, you carefully lower him onto the cool sheets and maneuver your arms out from underneath him. As you're pulling away, he sleepily grasps at your shoulders and pulls, causing you to come crashing down on top of him.
'Damn, even in his sleep he's strong,' you think to yourself, flustered and afraid you'll wake him up.
He swiftly turns over, snaking his arms around your waist, intertwining his legs with your own and nestling his head above yours.
"K-Katsuki...?" you mumble, confused as your cheeks flare with heat by the sudden close body contact. You hope that your face isn't as scorching hot as it feels when it squishes up against his chest.
"Mm...don't go," Bakugo slurs, still halfway in dreamland. "Stay."
"...did you let me carry you to bed just so you could cuddle with me?" you ask, perplexed. He grunts in response and squeezes you tighter.
"You son of a bitch," you curse playfully. "If you wanna be carried like a princess to bed, just ask."
" 'm not a princess," he murmurs as he's nuzzling into your hair like a cat begging for attention.
"You just didn't wanna ask to go to bed in front of Izuku, didn't you?"
"...Nuh uh."
You snort as you shimmy in his hold to get comfortable. By the time you settle on a position, he's fallen back into a deep slumber, chest rhythmically rising and falling with hushed breath. He looks so angelic when he's dreaming.
It's too bad he turns into a devil the second he's awake.
i just wanna hold him tight and squish his cheeks - ya know??
#bakugo katsuki#bakugo x reader#katsuki bakugo#katsuki bakugo x reader#my hero academia#bakugo fluff#bakugo x y/n#bakugo drabble#bakugo headcanons#my hero academia headcanons#bakugo x you#bakugou x reader#mha bakugo x reader#☆.rei writes
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MAKE IT EASY (part 2) : ̗̀➛ STEVE HARRINGTON
・❥・part 1・part 2・❥・3k words
Summary: steve asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend for a family dinner. the problem is: after all is said and done, he gives you the cold shoulder. have you done something wrong?
Steve has a problem.
No, scratch that. He created a problem for himself, actually, about a week ago. A big, confusing problem that he now has no idea how to solve, so naturally what he's doing is plan B, which is the next best thing: avoiding the problem until it somehow resolves itself.
You are Steve Harrington's problem.
You, with your disarming smile, your gratuitous kindness and your impossible-to-forget laugh. You had made his parents like you, for God's sake. If that's not proof enough that you have some kind of magic working behind your smile, Steve doesn't know what is.
Oh! And of course, there is that damn dress.
Steve lowers his head until his forehead rests on the counter and sighs. Ah, that dress. Steve probably shouldn't think about it, let alone what was beneath it, the warm skin he touched for just a few seconds…no. He shouldn't think about it if he wanted to keep his sanity intact. But apparently, he likes to torture himself.
Steve stays in this awkward position for all of five dramatic seconds until his spine hurts. He straightens up again, with another sigh.
"You should talk to her."
It's Robin (of course) giving her opinion (that no one asked, Steve thinks bitterly) as she walks past him with a stack of tapes in her hands.
"I should never talk to her again. In fact," he argues, speaking a little louder so Robin can hear him from the back of the store, "if you're really my friend, you should make sure that I don't talk to her for the rest of my life."
"Coward."
"Maybe I am."
Even from this distance, Steve is under the impression that he hears Robin sighing.
She walks so fast that he doesn't even register the sound of her footsteps until Robin is in front of him, on the other side of Family Video's front counter, looking at him the way a mother would look at a child throwing a tantrum.
"You are going to talk to her," says Robin, with the certainty of someone who says the sky is blue.
"No."
She smiles. Steve is certain he recognizes that smile. It's the one that scares him, the same that precedes the moment when Dustin or one of the other kids says something like "just trust me, I have an idea", and the idea usually involves a robbery, a murder or interdimensional travel. Sometimes, all three of them.
"Robin-"
She has her backpack on her back.
"End of my shift," Robin hums, suspiciously happy. She takes a step back which, Steve thinks, is quite prudent considering what she says next, "…which means, my dear Steve, that you are obligated to serve our customers. Any customer. Even if you don't want to speak to this specific customer, you'll have to-"
Steve leans over the counter — to do what exactly, he's not sure; strangle her, perhaps — but Robin, as always, is faster. She laughs, and before he can do anything other than practically beg her to stay, Robin is out the front door yelling I'm sorry! over her shoulder, even though Steve knows she's not sorry at all.
Less than ten minutes later, the bell above the door rings again, and Steve wouldn't even have to look to know it's you.
You enter the store and your steps are quick, hurried, a clear goal in your mind.
You stop in front of Steve, almost exactly where Robin had stood a few minutes ago, but the look in your eyes is completely different for more reasons than one.
Steve swallows hard. You had been here two other times this week, and both times Steve managed to somehow force Robin to distract you, acting as if he was too busy to see you. You had clearly decided to talk to her behind his back, because all this had definitely been an elaborate plan between the two of you so that Steve couldn't get away.
You get to the point, crossing your arms. "You are avoiding me."
You're not asking; you're telling him. You know. You noticed.
Well, of course you did. You're smart. Smarter than him for sure.
Steve can only hope you haven't found out about the reason why he's avoiding you these past few days. That would be hard to explain.
He clears his throat. It's like he's trying to breathe with a couple of birds inside his ribcage.
"I'm not avoiding you," he says, but he looks away so quickly he doubts you believe him. "I've just got a lot going on lately…" he trails off, racking his brain for an excuse that would make sense without revealing too much.
It isn't fair — you're the last person he wants to hurt, and yet it took some elaborate plan between you and Robin to get him to stand in front of you again.
Pathetic.
You don't seem impressed. In fact, you laugh before he's even finished speaking, but it's not your usual light, happy laugh; It's a low, wry chuckle that makes Steve feel instantly irritated, even though he knows he probably doesn't even have that right after everything.
He knows he hurt you. He knows. He never wanted that. But you…you have no idea how torturous that night, that dinner had been for him. So yes; he does get a little angry.
"You've got nothing new going on lately!" you retort, growing angry yourself. "You just- I don't know. Have I…done something wrong? Did I make your parents mad that night or something? Because all of a sudden-"
"No!" he snaps, the word coming out harsher than he intended, and definitely louder. His cheeks flush with anger, and then embarrassment, and suddenly Steve desperately wants to crawl into a hole somewhere.
He clears his throat.
"No, you didn't do anything wrong," he repeats, softer this time. "It's just…it's complicated."
"It's complicated?" you ask, and now you're all but yelling too. Great. "That's your excuse for flat out ignoring me for the past week?"
"I'm not ignoring you!" he protests, his voice a bit higher than usual.
The truth is: he has been avoiding you. Every time he sees you, he feels this strange pull towards you - a mix of attraction and annoyance that he can't quite figure out. And every time he talks to you, he worries that maybe he'll say too much, or worse yet, say nothing at all and you, with your annoyingly sharp mind, will read him like a book.
As if that wasn't enough, Steve thinks, tormented, you decide to walk around the counter to literally stand in front of him, nothing else between the two of you besides a couple of steps.
This proximity feels like a trap. Steve takes another step back and his hipbone hits the counter. Dear God.
"Yes, you are!" you argue, crossing your arms and taking a step forward almost without realizing it. "You asked me to pretend to be your girlfriend for one night so that your parents would leave you alone, and I did. I thought it was okay. But then you pretty much ran out of my house afterwards and refused all my attempts to talk to you ever since."
You sigh. You lift your chin and look up at him, and, alarmed, Steve notices that your eyes are a little red, as if you're holding yourself back from crying.
He's making you cry?
Shit. The last thing he wants in the world is to make you cry.
"Tell me what I did wrong," you say, and the sudden softness of your voice catches Steve off-guard. "You owe me at least that, don't you? If seeing me is such a problem for you, just..tell me what I did wrong and I'll leave you alone. I'll go…clearly that's what you want."
"No, that's not what I want," he says quickly, stepping closer to you before his mind can catch up on his intentions. "Look, I'm sorry. I just…I don't know how to handle this."
He runs a hand through his tousled hair, and you probably notice the desperation in his tone, because you just stand there, looking at him. Waiting, he realizes. You don't move.
Then you ask, sounding so innocently confused that Steve almost feels like screaming:
"How to handle…what?"
It's not possible, he thinks. There's no way you didn't notice. You would have to be blind, deaf and…well, maybe not even then. Steve had thought things had gotten pretty clear the week before, at your place, when you had asked him to unzip your damn dress and he had gotten so carried away he almost kissed you and…
Well.
"You," he answers immediately, looking you square in the eye with all the genuine honesty he still has the capacity for. "I don't know how to handle the fact that I…" Steve swallows.
"That you..?" you encourage, taking a tentative step closer.
"Do you really want to know?" he asks, not moving an inch.
"Yes."
Steve's heart skips a beat, a beat that could very well be his last. "Look-"
"Tell me."
"I think you already know."
"I don't."
"Oh, come on," Steve says, his voice cracking as he lets out a humourless chuckle. "You can't tell me you didn't notice the way I looked at you last week. I mean, Jesus, I asked you to pretend to be my girlfriend for dinner with my parents, and then I almost…"
He trails off.
And there it is; that funny feeling inside your chest, that warmth you can't even begin to explain.
"You almost what?"
He chuckles again. "Why do you think I left like that?"
"I honestly have no fucking idea, Steve."
"You asked me to unzip your dress."
"And?"
Steve looks at you like you'd just grown an extra limb.
"You can't be serious."
"Okay, fine, I'm sorry I asked you to do that, but I didn't mean to make you, uh…uncomfortable. You could have said no if-"
"That's not it." Steve cuts you off, frustrated because God help him, you don't get it. You still, somehow, don't get it. He doesn't know whether to laugh or to cry.
So what he does instead is turn around, placing his hands on the counter, his back turned to you so that he can think clearly for a moment without being distracted by the way you're looking at him.
But you…oh, you never let things go, do you?
"What is it then, Steve, huh?" you ask, shortening the distance between the two of you by half. You know the answer, or at least a part of you does. But the other part, the part that's stubborn and insecure and tired…wants to hear him say it. Needs to hear him say it. "What is it? Because it feels like you just want to hurt me. You asked me to pretend to be your girlfriend for one night, but it didn't feel like we were…"
Pretending. Is that what you were going to say?
You stop speaking abruptly, eyes wide as if the words had come out of your mouth on their own. Judging by how angry you sounded, Steve thinks that's exactly what happened.
"Then you just…decided to ignore me."
For one moment, the only thing between you two is the silence.
"I didn't do that to hurt you," his voice is a whisper.
"Then what the fuck were you trying to do, Steve?"
"Get over you!"
"I...what?"
It feels like you're taunting him at this point.
"What, not what you expected?" He says, voice tight as he turns around to face you again, a bitter laugh trapped inside his throat. "C'mon, are you that oblivious?"
He's getting closer to you as he speaks now, voice growing more intense, more desperate; but you don't back away, he notices. You don't move, don't push him away. All you do is look up at him with those pretty eyes of yours, waiting, searching for something in his expression.
"I-I fucked up, okay? I told you it was just play pretend but the truth is…I didn't have to pretend one bit," he confesses, eyes finding yours, and immediately that anger — or whatever it was — dissipates, his tone softening as a small smile tugs at the corners of his lips. "I should have known that having you for one night, even if it was just pretend, would just make it that much worse. That's why I tried to avoid you. To get over you…and clearly that didn't work."
There's so much you want to say that you feel like you're choking on your own words. "I don't- you, I mean-"
"No, it's alright, just…" He looks down at the ground, then steps back again with a small, empty chuckle. "Go ahead and reject me. Make it easy for me."
"I-what? Reject you?" If a demogorgon suddenly showed up and swallowed your left leg whole, you're pretty sure you would have been less taken aback.
"I know it's not what you want to hear. It's not how I wanted things to go either. But I'm trying to be honest here," he says, taking another step back, feeling more and more exposed with every stupid word that comes out of his mouth. "I care about you. And I know that if I don't get over this, it's going to ruin everything. So, please, just-"
"Oh my God, you are so stupid!"
Your tone of voice changed completely. Steve lifts his head to look at you, and to his complete and utter confusion, you're laughing.
Laughing.
For a terrible moment, the thought that you're laughing at him crosses his mind, but then…
You hug him. You hug him so tightly, in fact, that Steve is pushed back a step or two, and suddenly he's pressed up against the counter once again.
“You didn’t kiss me,” you murmur, your arms wrapped tightly around his waist, your cheek pressed against his chest.
He takes a deep breath, inhaling the scent of your hair and feeling the soft cotton of your shirt under his fingers. He can feel the warmth of your body against his. It's almost painful, how good it feels to be this close to you.
He wonders if he heard it wrong.
No — he certainly heard it wrong. He's hallucinating. Must be.
"Wait, I…what?"
You don't move an inch, but Steve feels as you take a deep breath against his shirt. He wishes he could see your face.
"That night," you explain, finally looking up at him. You look more flustered than he's ever seen you. Closing one of your hands into a fist, you hit Steve's chest without any real force. "I thought you were going to kiss me, but then you just ran off without saying anything. How was I supposed to guess that you actually liked me, Steve Harrington?"
He almost chuckles. Steve feels like his heart is in his throat, he can't believe what he's hearing. You like him? You, the girl he's been crushing on for what feels like forever, actually like him?
It's too much to process. He tries to form a response, but all that comes out is a strangled sound that's somewhere between a laugh and a sob.
So instead of trying to use any stupid words, he reaches out and cups your face in his hands, feeling the warmth of your skin against his. He leans down slowly, his heart pounding in his chest, and finally, finally, when you don't move away…he brushes his lips against yours.
It's just a soft, tentative touch, but it's enough to make him forget about everything else.
Steve pulls back then, waiting for you to pull away, to tell him no…but you don't. You close your eyes and lean into him, opening your mouth a little more against his, inviting him in. He takes the invitation, pressing his lips against yours again, more firmly this time, feeling your soft, warm tongue slide against his. He presses harder, deepening the kiss, feeling your hands curl into his shirt as he pulls you even closer.
You feel dizzy, light-headed, and utterly, perfectly lost in this moment.
Your hands cling to his shoulders, fingers digging into the muscles there as you, too, attempt to pull him closer, as close as possible…and then, the bell above the front door rings, announcing that someone just entered the store.
Fuck.
Steve groans as you pull back immediately.
It's just a customer, an older man with a newspaper under his arm, looking around curiously. Steve knows it's not his fault, but he doesn't think he's ever hated anyone quite so strongly.
He looks down at you and it's a mistake; you look so beautiful with your cheeks flushed, lips swollen from the kiss, a soft, embarrassed smile on your mouth. Steve doesn't know what to say, he's not even sure he knows how to find his voice right now, so one of his hands finds its way up to cup your cheek again, fingers curling gently while the man walks around the store looking for God knows what.
Steve feels like he's on cloud nine. He wants nothing more than to lose himself in you again, and to hell with Family Video's customers. But you, on the other hand…
You grin. "You should probably-"
"Don't go anywhere," Steve tells you with a grin of his own. "I'll be right back."
Apparently, he wasn't aware that he wouldn't be able to get rid of you if he tried.
tags (i hope i haven't forgotten anyone, sorry!): @siriuslysmoking @sebastiansstanswhore @sorchateas @boomitsallie1 @vivzzi @mel119g @skrzydlak
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#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington#steve harrington x you#steve harrington oneshot#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington angst#steve x you#steve x reader#stranger things fanfic#stranger things imagine#steve harrington drabble
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౨ৎ ‧˚
𝐞𝐥 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐨 (𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥) — 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐮𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐨𝐧
miguel o’hara x fem!reader. 3.6k words
fic masterlist previous part pt six next part
mentions of injury; miguel be fantasising bout you guys; miguel makes you say spanish sentences that you don’t know the meaning of (i don’t think this is a warning but oh well); please also forgive if there’s any grammar/spelling mistakes (I’m tired af) — after the incident you wake up at HQ, with a note saying your hired status. with confusion you go to speak to miguel. along the way there and back you get your friends acting suspicious. miguel finally begins to accept that he wants to keep you close.
Your eyes slowly blink open, bright light invading your vision. At first you just lie there, no thoughts really occupying your brain.
As you go to sit up, having realised that you're lying on a bed, a hand suddenly rests on your shoulder. You turn to see Hobie. "Careful there, mate, wouldn't want ya knocking out again."
"What..." You drift off, brows furrowing as you rub your temples. "Knocked out...oh." Thoughts, or more so memories, begin to flood your brain. The different universe. Miles. The masked men. The running...and then...Miguel. You remember seeing Miguel, he had helped you, asking you to stay quiet.
You remember the instant feeling of relief when he had spoken, and then the droopy feeling of your exhausted body.
You go to swing your legs off the bed, as you gaze around the medical room. But Hobie keeps his hand on your shoulder. "You've gone through some stuff over the past couple days, take it easy."
"I'm alright...thank you." You nod, giving him a small smile. "Am I back at HQ?" Then you further mutter. "I thought he'd send me home."
"Yeah, me too...but maybe your act of defiance changed his mind." Hobie chuckles.
You go to shake my head. "I didn't mean t-"
"Mean to go, yeah don't worry we knew not long after you disappeared." Hobie interrupts.
You nod, but then your brows begin to furrow. "Wait, how did you know?"
"Miguel actually found out. He got pissed you left a day early. Thanks for that, by the way." Hobie nudges your shoulder gently.
You softly chuckle, though your thoughtful expression stays. "How'd he found out? I could've just gone home. I planned to just go home."
"I think he went to your universe." Hobie says, a sly grin forming.
You stare at him. "Why? To tell me I should have worked that day?"
Hobie shrugs. "Maybe."
You shift your body, so that you're somewhat facing him more. "What aren't you telling me?"
"Hm?" Hobie hums, acting innocent.
"Hobie don't have that expression if you're gonna stay silent." You wave your finger in front of his face.
Hobie stands, putting his hands in his pockets. "I don't know what you're talking about, y/n."
"Hobie."
But he's already walking out he door. "Oh." He pokes his head back in. "There's some lunch on that table there. Be grateful I didn't eat it."
;;
You stare at the note in your hand. It read 'You're not fired as of Tuesday'.
"Peter, hey. Have you seen Miguel?" You ask as Peter nears you, your hand now scrunching around the note. Another god forsaken note.
"Y/n, hey. Glad to see you look less pale." Peter smiles, but you're persistent.
"Apparently I'm not fired?"
"You got your job back, nice." Peter at first doesn't notice your blatant narrowed gaze. But when he does, his smile turns to a frown of confusion. "You don't seem happy about that."
"I'm confused. He isn’t one to mess with people…right?"
Peter tilts his head to the side. "Eh, part of me wouldn’t be surprised if he did." He mutters.
"I mean, not even a day ago he was wanting me gone. Not that much has happened to change his mind." You say.
"Actually a lot has happened."
"Yeah, but that stuff shouldn't change his decision about me working here."
Peter shrugs. "Maybe it did."
"Your elaboration there is great, Peter, thanks." Your sarcasm is clear.
Peter smiles, fixing the spider beanie on Mayday's head, as she babbles on about something. "Go talk to him. Most of the time I can't read him, so I wouldn't have a clue."
"That's why I'm trying to find him." You say, to which Peter answers with "I think I saw him heading to the top floor."
And so you make your way to the stairs to heaven (hell). You had just walked down them in an effort to find Miguel, now you were walking up them...in an effort to find Miguel. This fact only seemed make you even more annoyed with him.
Great, you got your job back, but at this point you needed to know why. You needed to know what made him change his mind that quickly. Nothing else ever has. Miguel has always been one to make final decisions, with not much there to sway him.
You think back to Miguel’s reasoning for his initial firing, as you walk up the steps. It was because of the attack. So why would he re-hire you because of another one? Or more so because of the same masked men who had attacked. Were they even the reason?
Does Miguel think you know something, and is wanting you back to tell him? No—you think to yourself. He wouldn’t re-hire you for that simple reason.
When you reach the top, your gaze gets caught up in a decision of what direction to take. None of his offices were up here. The only place you can think that Miguel would go is his room.
But you pause in front of his door. Did you really want to go in there? He’s clearly not working if is in there. God, but you had too many unanswered questions, so you knock.
It’s silent for a moment, besides your breathing and the distant chatter of spider-people. You go to knock again, but the door creaks open. It’s darker inside, the dim lighting reminding you of one of his past requests. You can remember the feel of his broad shoulders when giving him that massage. The small groans he would let slip.
You had pushed aside that memory, not liking the way it made your entire body buzz. “Miguel?”
Then he opens the door wider, staring down at you. His position was surprisingly relaxed, one arm leant against the doorframe, as he wore those monotoned clothes that brought out his red eyes.
Speaking of those red eyes, you caught them scanning your body, a little too slowly and for a little too long. You gulp, not meaning to come across so nervous.
You hold up the severely scrunched up note. Miguel shifts his gaze to it. “I see you decided to take your annoyance out on that this time.” He comments.
You narrow your eyes. “Why am I not fired?”
“I thought you’d be happy to see that note.” He says, relaxing more against the doorframe.
“No. I’m not happy to see any note.” You say, lowering your arm. “Why couldn’t you just tell me in person?”
“Because I wanted to avoid this.” He gestures to you in general.
“You can’t expect me not to be a little curious at the sudden change of heart.” You say, trying not to let your gaze drift down his body. When he had shifted his shirt rose a fraction, letting you see part of his hips and abs.
Of course he had abs. You weren’t blind to how built he was, but the small visual still seemed to make you blink too many times and your brain re-wire.
“You don’t need to be curious.” Miguel states, his tongue running along his fang as if he were bored, but the expression in his eyes begged to differ.
“But I am.” You say, tucking the note in your back pocket. “Look, it’s beneficial for you if I know the reason. Then I can work on what made you want to fire me and continue doing what made you re-hire me.”
“Don’t do what made me re-hire you.” Miguel quickly answers.
Your brows furrow. “You’re saying that like what I did was bad…Why would you hire me for something you don’t want me to do again?”
“You ask a lot of questions, you know that?”
“Don’t worry, I have a lot more in my head for you.” You smile.
Miguel shakes his head, looking away with a clench to his jaw. The tiniest of smiles edged the corner of his mouth, but with his turned away head you weren’t able to catch it. And when he glanced back it was gone.
“Can’t I do something without being questioned?” Miguel asks. “I mean, you got your job back, you should be happy…and any other sparkly emotion.”
“You should use those ‘sparkly emotions’ more often, O’Hara. You know people who can lead with positivity usually get more people on their side.” You tilt your head with a raise to your brow.
“You do realise going off track isn’t gonna make me tell you anything.” Miguel says.
Your smile falls as you press your lips together with a sigh. Miguel darts his gaze up your form again, checking your injuries. Your ankle was only partially sprained so no cast was needed, but his gaze kept on getting caught up on the small cuts that littered your body. Some faint, some more prominent, like the one on your bottom lip.
Before he knows it he’s grabbing a belt loop of your pants, pulling you slightly closer as he tilts your head how he wants. Your eyes widen at the action as your heart begins to pick a quicker pace. Two of his fingers stay under your chin—keeping your head tilted up—while his thumb hovers over your cut lip, his gaze narrowed in inspection.
“You should make sure that that doesn’t get infected.” He says in a whisper.
You scoff, though it comes out softer than intended, you having to gulp immediately after. You had been right—having him this close was going to give you a heart attack. “That’s rich coming from you.” Your voice has turned to a mere whisper also.
“You keep seeming to forget that you’re only human.” He mutters. “Weak.”
“You forgot annoying.” You mutter back. Miguel meets your gaze and you freeze. He was close. Too close. Because your mind was beginning to fog over as you stared at Miguel’s intrigued eyes.
Then suddenly he says “We’ll continue our Spanish lessons in a few hours.”
“I don’t think that’s necessary anymore.” You say, to which his eyes narrow, his hold still keeping your head tilted up.
“Really?” He sounds disbelieving. “So, you manage to say one Spanish sentence, and that’s it? you’re done?” He tilts his head his eyes darting. “I thought you were more determined than that.”
You narrow your eyes in turn. “And I learnt that sentence from my phone. So, yes, I think I’m fine.”
A small sneering smirk began to curve his lips. “I thought I took your phone.”
Your mouth opens and closes. “I…got a new one.”
“Or…you stole it back.” He counters, raising a brow.
“It’s easier this way. I don’t have to bother you with lessons.”
“But I liked getting something in return.” He answers smoothly.
“You were asking for things anyone could do.” You say.
“But I’d have to pay for someone to give me a massage.” He mocks sadness. “When you were there being oh so nice and generous.”
“I wasn’t being generous. It was apart of the deal.”
“And it still is.”
“No. You firing me, got rid of the deal altogether.” You say, moving to step away, wanting to breath in air that wasn’t getting mixed in with his.
But he pulls you back, tightening his hold on your chin a fraction, one of his fingers dragging to rest on the in-between of your jaw and neck.
“But I re-hired you, which means the deal’s back on.”
“What if I say no to the job?” You suddenly ask.
“Chaparrita, you’re not gonna say no.”
And you hated the fact that he was right. No matter what people said you did like this job, being around all these spider variants. It settled for an interesting life.
Miguel’s finger—that rested by your jaw—started to subtly caress back and forth. It had soon grown into a habit of his, when he got the chance to touch you.
There was almost something soothing about it for him. Being able to feel your soft skin against his claws, that he would usually only use for violence. A contradiction that silently said to him ‘Not everything about you is violent. Not everything has to be’.
And those words only seemed to come up in your presence. At first he had been annoyed by them and that fact. He doesn’t have time or the energy for “feelings” and such. He had to stay focused.
But over—especially—the past few days his annoyance had fizzled away, slowly but surely. Shifting to a feeling that he much preferred, one that made his body buzz with heat. And of course—only in your presence.
So, yes, maybe he did re-hire you so that the masked men wouldn’t be able to find you in your home, but maybe it was also for selfish reasons. Not liking the idea of not seeing you, even if his scowl was still present.
He liked being around you, even just listening to you talk. It all still confused him, but he finally recognised his want for you to stay. To make him feel settled, calm even.
At the end of the day, both his ‘reasons’ for re-hiring you are selfish and he knows it. He wants you close and in his line of vision, and he was going to make sure things stayed that way.
“Alright.” You say, finally agreeing to continuing this deal with Miguel. “But please don’t make me run around endlessly.”
“Have I been?” He shakes his head for you. “No. I’ve only given you easy tasks.”
You don’t why he has but you are definitely grateful. “Don’t use your phone again.” He suddenly says.
“Many people use phones for different thin—“
Miguel cuts in, sparing you an annoyed look. “For Spanish lessons.”
You finally manage to step back, holding in your sigh of relief until you were alone. Miguel watched you intently, catching onto the way your hand began to fiddle nervously with the very same belt loop he had been holding onto.
“I’ll uh…see you in a few hours then.” You say, beginning to step backwards down the hallway. “In the tech room?”
Miguel shakes his head. “It’s still being repaired. Just come back to my room.”
You ignore the flutter in your stomach, as you nod. “See you then.” Then you swiftly turn and head towards the stairs.
Miguel watches you go, his lips curving up into an easy smile.
;;
A few hours later—those hours having been filled with back and forth thoughts—you were walking past all the different spider variants, heading towards Miguel’s room.
You narrowed your feelings down to nervousness, having gone in a roundabout of thinking ‘it’s fine’ ‘I’ll be fine’ to ‘im starting to sweat’ ‘why the hell am I starting to sweat?!’
“Y/n!” A voice stopped you, and you turn to see Miles, Gwen and Hobie.
“Miles.” You smile. “So sorry for practically leaving you back there.” You did feel bad.
“Please don’t. I would have told you to run anyway. Those men were scary.” He made a face which made you chuckle. “They had like….real large claws.”
“Yeah…would much prefer never to see them again.” You half chuckle.
“How are you?” Gwen asks, taking her hood off.
You nod. “Good. Better. Yeah…a lot better.” You glance down at your ankle. “Wish I wasn’t so accident prone though.”
“Nah.” Hobie begins, swinging his arm around your shoulder. “You jus’ have a running theme of bein’ in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“That makes me feel so much better.” You scoff.
“Where are you headed anyway?” Hobie asks you.
“Oh, just to Miguel’s—“ you pause. You were gonna say ‘Miguel’s bedroom’ but then realised how strange that would sound. “To speak to Miguel.”
“I thought you already did?” Gwen asks, brushing her hair from her eyes.
“Yes…but…we have more to discuss.” You nod.
“Like what? Does he want to talk to you about his strange display of worry the other day?” Hobie asks with a sly smirk.
You glance at him, brows furrowing. “Coz that don’t really sound like him.” Hobie continues.
“You’re doing that face again.” You say, narrowing your eyes.
“Am I?” He again prays innocence.
“Yeah, you are. And it’s beyond annoying.”
“Jus’ like I thought he found you.” Hobie mutters almost smugly.
“What?”
In response Hobie just smiles at you, putting his hands in his pockets. You shift your gaze to Gwen, who is looking away.
“Why are you guys acting so suspicious?” You ask.
“We just find it…strange is all.” Gwen says.
“Find what strange?”
“Well…Miguel was the one to bring you in…which isn’t strange, but it was just the way he was acting.” Gwen begins, making your brows furrow further.
“I’m not following.” You say slowly.
“He didn’t really let any of the doctors touch you up.” Gwen continues.
“Then how….?” You’re confused. Because you had woken up with clean cuts and a fixed ankle.
“Ay, what are we all talking about, you guys?” Pav appears, swinging down from a different ceiling path.
“Jus’ about Miguel’s strange actions in medical.” Hobie says.
“Oh yeah!” Pav nods quickly. “He was acting really different. Wouldn’t let anyone near you, y/n.” He gestures to you, to which you raise your brows in disbelief. Then Pav chuckles. “It was almost like he was—“
But Gwen cuts him quickly. “He was just acting different. That’s all.” Gwen spares Pavitr a small glare.
“Okayyy.” You drag out, eyeing them all again. “Right now Miles is the only one seeming to be acting normal. Which I appreciate.” You had begun to back up down the path. Miles spares you a small smile in response.
As you begin to head to Miguel’s room, their words circled your head. What did they mean by ‘didn’t let the doctors touch you up’ or ‘didn’t let anyone near you’. They’re right—that is different from Miguel. So far different that you just can’t seem to believe it.
Maybe they were playing some prank. But even though you can see Hobie and Pav coming up with that joke, you can’t see Gwen getting in on it.
But those thoughts soon drift away as you near Miguel’s door again. You knock, feeling your palms increase in sweat.
Miguel opens the door. Upon seeing you he tilts his head, asking for you to come inside. You do, slipping past him and into the cozy, dim room.
“I hope you’ve come up with some helpful phrases.” You say turning to him. “Because I gave up my phone for this.”
Miguel pulls out a desk chair, taking a seat. You look around, seeing no other chair to occupy. “Use my bed.” He says, gesturing to his ruffled sheets.
You turn your gaze to it, holding down the small hitch of your breath. Why was it hitching? It was just a bed.
You walk over, carefully taking a seat at the edge, facing an already seated Miguel. “And yes, I am better than your phone.” He says, meeting your gaze.
“You sure?” You question. “My phone is pretty helpful.”
“And you’re saying I’m not?” Miguel asks with a small tilt his head. “That hurts.” His dry humour was something that had grown on you. Whether you liked it or not.
“Quiero ir a la feria.” It was a simple beginner question that you repeated effortlessly.
“Quiero ir a la feria.”
“It means ‘I want to go to the fair’.” Miguel explains.
After a few more simple sentences, a idea pops up in Miguel’s head. He probably shouldn’t execute it, but of course he still will.
“Me encantaría usar tu cama para otras cosas.” Miguel says, waiting for you to repeat it.
“Me encantaría usar tu cama para otras cosas.” You repeat, your flow having gotten a lot better.
Miguel’s breathing hitches upon hearing the words. You had assumed he got you to say something simple, along the lines of ‘I am a farmer who plants trees’. But he instead made you say ‘I’d love to use your bed for other things’.
And Miguel should probably stop and move on, but he doesn’t particularly want to. “¿No crees que me vería bonita atrapada entre tus sábanas, Miguel?”
“Aren’t you gonna tell me what the other sentence means?” You ask.
“Repeat it.” Miguel doesn’t budge.
You sigh. “¿No crees que me vería bonita atrapada entre tus sábanas, Miguel?” (Don’t you think I’d look pretty trapped in your sheets, Miguel?) You tilt your head, staring at him. All you know is that you asked him a question, but that’s about it.
Miguel breathes heavier, giving you a once over. “Tan bonita.” (So pretty.) He murmers.
“Do you want me to repeat that too?” You ask.
Miguel chuckles. “That’s fine.” Your words staying trapped in Miguel’s brain, seeming to repeat…over and over.
Miguel’s gaze kept flicking to your lips. Conflicting emotions resided behind this action. He could see your cut, which reminded him of the fact that you got dragged into a mess you didn’t particularly ask for, resulting in you getting injured and down right hunted.
The other emotion veered closer to his reasoning for getting you to say those sentences. He wanted to feel them. Lean closer…and see what they felt like. Maybe he wanted to soothe your cut with his tongue…
“Miguel? Are you gonna tell me what I just said?” You ask, leaning closer to get his attention.
Miguel meets your gaze. “I’ll let you try and figure it out.”
“That’s not very good teaching.” You mutter.
He just shrugs. “Then I guess you‘ll never know.”
“And don’t translate it on your phone.” Miguel says pointedly. “That would make you a bad student.”
You clench your jaw but nod. “Fine…” your gaze shifts to the window, seeing the dark sky.
You quickly stand. “I didn’t realise it was this late. I should go.” You begin to head to the door.
Miguel watches your every movement, until you glance back giving him a small nod. “Thanks for somewhat of a good lesson.”
Miguel just hums with a nod, as you turn shutting the door and leaving. Leaving Miguel to gaze back at his bed and where you were seated.
He had already begun to decide on what he wants in return.
ok, this post isn’t letting me add the colours and now I’m sad
this part was a little less action, coz i wanted focus more on miguel’s fEeLiNgS. coz boy does he have them
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ok I've seen arguably too many "Steve takes your virginity" fics but not enough "you take Steve's virginity". maybe you could do it where the reader has seen him and a girl go into a bedroom at parties and stuff but he reveals that they don't do anything besides make out and/or talk because he didn't feel truly connected to anyone, but he does with the reader, and you're his first. doesn't have to be exactly that but I'd love to see something like this
ぺ word count ⋰ 1.5k
✰ tw ⋰ none :)
❍ cw ⋰ swearing, sex, hints of oral
✐ masterlist
⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★
Getting asked out by Steve Harrington wasn't something you'd have ever anticipated happening, much less sitting in his passenger seat looking at the stars. But, much to your surprise, he was excellent company.
He made you laugh harder than you'd laughed in a long time, sometimes not even meaning to.
But after a brief moment of comfortable silence, you decided to change the subject.
"So... Betty Thompson, huh?"
"What about her?"
"What do you mean 'what about her'? I saw you guys the other night at Jackson's party."
"What did you see, exactly?"
"I saw her pull you into one of the bedrooms and shut the door."
"Oh, yeah."
"She's really nice."
"Yeah. We didn't... do anything, though."
Your brows dipped in confusion. "What? Nothing?"
"No."
"Why not?"
He shrugged. "I wasn't really feeling it. She's sweet and everything. We just didn't... click. Sexually. Plus she was drunk and... you know, I didn't want to take advantage of that."
"Mm. So what girls have you clicked with? Sexually." You threw in that last part sarcastically.
He shook his head. "None of 'em."
At this point you felt like he was messing with you.
"Not a single one?"
"Nope. I mean, we've gotten along in every other way. Just not that way."
"So... are you-"
"A virgin?" You nodded. "Yeah." You could tell he was hesitating. His whole brand was being a lady's man, able to charm any girl in Hawkins. So admitting this clearly made him uncomfortable.
"You've never done anything?"
"I didn't say that," he joked. "I've just never gone all the way."
"So... oral is where you've stopped."
"Yeah. It's kind of embarrassing," he chuckled.
"No, not at all," you reassured. "It's actually kind of sweet."
"Sweet?"
"Mhm. I mean, come on. You're kind of known for being a bit of a womanizer. It's nice knowing you're not taking advantage of us."
"I guess so."
"Do you want to lose it? Your virginity, I mean."
He shrugged. "At some point, yeah, obviously. But I don't want it to be a fling. I want it to mean something."
"Yeah." There were a few seconds of silence. "If you had to pick who you lost it to... Who'd you choose?"
He looked down at his lap and that's when you noticed he'd been fidgeting with his fingers. You could see the wheels turning in his head. He let out a small chuckle.
"I... don't want to answer that."
"Oh, come on. I'm not gonna judge."
"I know, I know."
"So who?" You sounded a bit more excited than you were. He looked at you. "Who?"
"You," he choked out. This caught you off guard and when he sensed that, he cleared his throat.
"What, seriously? Me?" He nodded. "Why?"
"I've had a crush on you for a while. As dumb as it sounds I always... pictured my first time being with you."
You took in his words and processed what he was saying. Steve Harrington - The Steve Harrington - had pictured losing his virginity to you. And thinking about it, you wouldn't mind.
"Well... maybe... we could make your fantasy come true."
"I mean, I don't really know if I'd call it a fant-"
You leaned over and kissed him, admittedly harder than you'd meant to. His hand instantly shot up to your cheek and kept you in place. You kissed for a moment before you pulled yourself over to his side, straddling his lap.
His hands rested on your thighs, almost nervous to put them anywhere else. But before you knew it, they were sliding up your back, his fingers finding their way beneath your shirt.
When you leaned back a bit you accidentally honked the car's horn and both of you jumped, giggling when you broke apart.
"Maybe we should move this to the back of the car?" you whispered.
You both looked back at the rear part of the car, seeing clutter and a full trunk.
"My parents aren't home if you're comfortable coming to my house. Sorry, there's not much room back there."
You grinned. "Perfect."
The second you were in his room, you were on your back in his bed with his lips latched onto your neck.
"Steve," you whispered.
"Yeah?"
"Go slow. It's your first time, no need to rush." You could tell he was excited, his hands trembling slightly. You reached down and pulled your shirt over your head, struggling a bit where you were laying down.
You also sat up slightly to unhook your bra while he unbuttoned your jeans and wiggled them down your legs. Once they were off, you grabbed him by his shoulders and rolled him onto his back, your legs straddling his hips.
"You don't have to-"
"Shush," you interrupted. "It's your first time. Let me take the reigns."
He nodded, his cheeks pinkening a bit. You scooted down a bit, undoing his pants and pulling them down a bit, enough for all of him to spring out.
He closed his eyes tight and threw his head back a bit, and you could tell he was nervous. To make him more comfortable, you pulled his jeans down his legs and eventually threw them on the floor on top of yours.
His entire body was tense, like he was unable to relax. You picked up on this immediately and leaned down to put your faces closer together.
"Steve?"
"Mhm?"
"Open your eyes, look at me." He complied, his pupils massive. "Do you want to stop?"
"What?"
"You seem really nervous. Do you want to stop?"
"No. I want to do this."
You'd never seen him like this. You didn't even know he could be like this. All of his confidence had melted away seemingly instantly after you got on top of him.
You ran your fingers through his hair, pushing it off his forehead.
"If you do, say something."
"Trust me, I don't."
You leaned back and wrapped your hands around him, feeling his body soften and relax.
"That okay?"
"Oh, yeah. That's good."
"Good."
He reached over and opened his nightstand drawer, pulling out a condom.
"You're prepared," you joked, taking it out of his hands. He didn't respond, instead scanning your body with his eyes. Seeing you on top of him, so naked and vulnerable made butterflies stir in his stomach. Suddenly, he was worried he wouldn't be able to please you. But he knew you wouldn't judge him. It was his first time, after all.
The feeling of you sliding a condom onto him made a soft moan tumble from his lips, and you couldn't hold back the smirk that formed on your face.
"Are you ready?" you asked softly.
"Absolutely."
Slowly, you sunk down onto him and couldn't resist the moan that escaped you. His fingers pressed into your thighs, swearing he could bust right then and there.
"Shit," you whispered, your hands on his belly. "You feel really good."
"Yeah?"
"Mhm."
"Good."
"Do I feel okay?"
"Are you serious?" he chuckled.
With that, you lifted yourself before lowering down, only causing his fingers to grip you tighter. He moved his hands a moment later to your hips, almost guiding you along. Your movements were bounces mixed with grinds, something that was a bit difficult but felt amazing. For both of you.
It didn't take long before he sat up, pulling your lips to his with one hand, the other wrapping around your back and holding your body against his.
"I'm not gonna last much longer," he whimpered into your mouth.
"It's okay. Cum whenever you need to."
His mouth latched onto your neck and chest, and by how rough his kisses were getting, you could tell he was getting close fast.
"Fuck, Y/N." Him moaning your name was - as you were finding out - a huge turn on for you. That desperate tone of voice he had, it could've made you soaking wet on its own. You'd never heard him talk like that and it was hot. So fucking hot.
You reached down and began rubbing your clit, making your hips buck a bit. Your head was thrown back slightly as you bounced, giving him ample opportunity to pepper your skin with hickeys.
But the only thing he could do was rest his forehead against your chest, his eyes screwed shut tightly and his mouth agape.
He wanted to last longer so badly, but holding back was not an easy task. He was beginning to sweat and his moans were becoming more guttural, his fingertips sure to leave marks on your skin.
"Steve, I think I'm gonna cum."
"Me too," he strained.
He held you tightly as he exploded into the condom and your movements become sloppy, both of you moaning way louder than you intended to.
Once you stopped and you were both reeling from your orgasms, he rested his cheek against your chest. You breathed in tandem, trying to catch your breath.
"Shit," you whispered. You pulled his face off of you and leaned your head down to kiss him. His hands settled on your hips and you noticed he was trembling. When he opened his eyes, you could see how watery they were. "Are you okay?"
"I don't think I've ever been better," he grinned.
"You sure? You're shaking."
He shook his head. "I'm great." A cheesy grin spread across his face and you felt reassured.
#fanfic#fanfiction#smut#imagine#steve harrington#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington smut#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x reader fanfic#steve harrington x reader fanfiction#steve harrington x reader imagine#steve harrington x reader smut#stranger things#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things smut
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I MISS YOU, I'M SORRY — alessia russo
based loosely off the song by gracie abram’s. i rewrote this three times and i’ve got it to where i’m happy with it. wouldn’t say it’s my best but hey ho. if there’s part that don’t make sense i do apologise i wrote some of this while being half asleep🙃
ANYWAYS hope you all enjoy! it’s a long one<33
masterlist
"i miss you" her raspy voice echoed down your phone, as she slurred over and over how she missed you. the sound of the music blaring in the background told you that she was out in a club.
whilst you were sat on your couch at home, in some old joggers and a hoodie which most definitely had toothpaste stains on it. love island playing as you were catching up on the last few episodes you'd missed, which was playing just as white noise at the moment.
"alessia, you need to go and find the rest of the girls." you said bluntly, the blonde having told you moments before her i miss you rant that she was out with the arsenal girls, which you probably could have guessed anyways after there win in the league early in the day.
but you also wanted to get back to your series, wishing you weren't having this conversation with your ex but you also couldn't find it in yourself to just hang up on her as you didn't want her to be in any harm — especially while she was drunk.
why did you still care?
"i miss you, y/n" she slurred out again, you could imagine the stupid dopey smile on her face as she said the words, her drunken ramble continuing, "i wish you were here, i miss your cute smile and, and those lips. i miss everything about you."
"alessia can you please just go and find the girls" you begged not wanting to carry on hearing her pleads but you also couldn't bring yourself to press the red button which your finger had loomed over for the past ten minutes.
"i'm sorry for everything y/n, i know you hate me but i still love you, i promise" the blonde slowly slurred out again as you could hear the pout in her voice as she spoke.
you didn't hate her, well maybe you didn’t, you hadn't quite figured that out yet where the blonde stood in your mind.
more just trying to space yourself away from everything that happened with alessia however that proved pretty difficult when you both played football, maybe not for the same team anymore but you'd still see her at england camp.
"alessia, please can you just tell me who i can call to make sure your gonna be safe?" you hated that you still cared, that you had stayed on the phone listening to her ramble drunkenly on about you for the past twenty minutes.
knowing that by the morning she wouldn't even remember it or anything she had said so why were you sat listening?
"can you stop callin' me alessia. i'm baby, less, darling, pretty girl, gorgeous—" she began to rattle out all the names you used to call her, opening up another wound you had spent months healing as with each words she spoke you could feel her opening more and more.
"alessia! will you just answer the damn question!" you yelled down the phone, cutting her off as the frustration growing in your voice was obvious, your patience was wearing thin. you didn't want to hear her voice anymore.
hearing the blonde mumble something about your bluntness, as she hummed on probably trying to figure out herself who would be the best option.
"lotte."
after the drunken call you'd gotten from your ex, you hadn't heard anything from her. not that you expected her too. she wasn't yours to be worried about, but it had left you confused especially over her words. they lingered in the back of your mind. what if she meant it. drunk words are sober thoughts as they say after all.
you knew now though you were just strangers who show up but don't matter enough to each other to be friends. however deep down you knew you had too much history to be just strangers.
weeks had gone since that night and you were arriving at england camp for the set of friendlies which were happening in sunny spain, arriving with the rest of the manchester united girls, you knew she was here. you'd seen it on instagram.
so once you arrived you could feel the tension rising in your shoulders and your chest. grabbing your key for your room and heading straight up there wanting to avoid any chance of running into her.
you hadn't seen her since december, in the home game against arsenal. you both didn't say a word to each other, you wouldn't even look in her direction. so the thought of seeing her again was sending you into hard drive, you weren't sure how you'd react, if you'd react at all.
getting yourself changed and flopping onto the bed you'd call your own for the next ten days. your body realxing into the soft sheets, as you began to flick through the channels on the tv hoping that something would take your interest.
however, you only got two clicks in when there was knocks echoeing through your room. a loud groan coming from you as you pulled yourself up from the comfort of your bed, dragging your socked feet towards the door and opening it.
"mary-"
"come on, everyone's waiting for you to come down" mary interrupted you as you looked on with a confused look, "what for?"
"cause we're watching a film as a team and if your not there then we aren't a team!" mary stated as if it was obvious reaching out to grab your arm as you nodded.
"wait! let me get my keycard!" you said quickly, stopping the door from closing as you heard a tusk of the teeth from the goalkeeper as she mumbled out her complaints. grabbing your keycard off the side table and slipping the card into your pocket, praying you wouldn't forget where you'd put it.
walking down the corridors of the hotel complex the FA had situated the team in, side by side with mary it felt a little eerie. something felt off but you couldn't quite put a finger to it.
coming out the elevator as mary continued to chat your ears off, about anything and everything. from telling you what she did last weekend to what she had for breakfast this morning. but you didn't mind, you would class mary as one of your closest friends in football.
she'd been there for you from the very first day you started at united, helping you settle in to helping you navigate your feelings after she happened.
although you didn't say it very often, you were very thankful for her and you honestly dreaded to think where you'd be without mary, even more so in the past few months.
which is why- you were brought out your thoughts as you felt yourself walk into something or rather someone.
"i wasn't looking- sorry" the blonde mumbled stumbling over her words a little as she looked up from her phone, a slight look of shock on her face when she realised who she'd actually walked into.
"s'fine" you said simply, taking in the blonde’s appearance a little. her hair scraped back in a low bun,
the shorter strands sticking out of the bun. she'd cut her hair again, you could tell. dressed in a grey hoodie and some blue england shorts, her legs bare as her socks covered her feet.
her blue eyes which you'd spent many of your nights getting lost staring into— why were you still stood there?
forcing your body to move, not before catching her disappointed look on her face at the few words you'd spoke to her. the blonde looking as if she was going to say something but her lips pressed back together as she carried on walking the way she was going originally.
"well.. that was a tiny bit awkward!" mary murmured as an awkward laugh came from her, you totally forgetting that mary was stood next to you as you tried to steady your breathing to go back to normal.
"well you could have warned me!"
after the awkward interaction with the blonde in the hallway, you’d noticed her small looks towards you before she would quickly look away. probably in fear of you catching her staring at you.
it was now down time and you were sat on one of the sun lounges, hoping to catch a few of the sun rays. with your book in hand and a fresh bottle of ice cold water you had your afternoon sorted.
glancing every few minutes or whenever a loud cheer came from the girls who were playing a game in the pool. your eyes immediately looking for the blonde before you would switch your eyes to someone else.
"why don't you just talk to her?" mary had noticed you looking towards the blonde, especially in the past few days. the goalkeeper being sat on the lounger just next to you.
she'd known since the day you joined united and no matter how many times you would say you were over the blonde or that you didn't care. mary knew that couldn't be further from the truth, she could tell. she's didn't need you to admit it out loud to know.
but mary had been put in a little bit of a hard position when the break up happened. as she was close with both you and alessia. hearing both sides of the story and giving you both advice which from the older girl you both valued deeply. however mary always claimed herself to be switzerland when asked who side to take.
the only side mary was taking was the side where both her close friends were happy whether that was the two of you happy together again, or if that was you happy with someone else. although deep down she was hoping for the first option!
"talk to who?" you tried the oblivious act, as you turned the page of your book. your eyes trying to follow the words on the page.
pretending you didn't know who she was talking about in hopes you would avoid the topic all together as well as hoping the conversation would change. but you also knew how stubborn mary could be.
"y/n don't play thick with me, you know who i mean" mary gave you the pointed look that told you she wasn't going to give up until you gave her an answer.
"maz i- i can't." you stutters over your words as you saw the sympathetic nod and smile that the goalkeeper sent your way. mary understood why, but she was also close with a certain blonde and knew exactly how she felt.
"but what's stopping you? i know that brain of yours has been whizzing with questions since you know, it ended on a sour note" mary began as you placed your book on your chest, turning over to face mary listening to her as she spoke.
"you don't have to magically become best friends or even be friends for that matter, just what have you got to loose by talking to her?" mary shrugged, as you hummed looking up from the ground. you knew mary was right you didn't have anything else to loose.
"mhm i'll think about it"
you were in london, not by personal choice. united had been playing chelsea in the fa cup. after a full 90' minutes on the pitch you had been longing for your bed since the final whistle blew.
but you'd gone out and had a few drinks with the girls to celebrate before returning to the hotel as the some of the other girls where going off into the next club along the street.
you'd just gotten changed and was about to begin brushing your teeth when there was a quiet knock ringing around your hotel room. at first you thought you'd imagined it but the knocks continued this time a little louder and more continuous.
huffing and placing your toothbrush on the side of the sink, "mary! i haven't got-" you opened the door thinking it would be mary asking if you had a spare key card for her room except it wasn't.
"oh" you whispered as you stared at the last person you thought would be standing at your door just past midnight.
"alessia what are you doing here?" you asked dismissively, wondering how she even knew where you were staying.
"um i was hoping to talk.. to you" you could tell she was nervous, her quiet tone which had replaced her usual confident tone not only gave it away but the fact she was swaying slightly from side to side. a thing she did when she was overthinking something.
"at quarter past twelve in the morning?" you pointed out tiredly looking at her as she timidly nodded before opening her mouth again.
"it's just- i've been wanting to talk to you for ages but it never seemed like the right time- and mary she said where you were saying-" she explained as you still held the same confused look still not quite grasping the fact she was stood at your hotel door at stupid o'clock in the morning but maybe that was also the alcohol in your system slowing your thought process down.
the blonde noticed the hesitated look on your face. "i'm sorry, this is stupid- i'll go. forget i was ever here. i'm sorry" alessia spoke fast, beginning to spin on her heel, not giving you a chance to respond.
but you quickly before she got to far away grabbed her arm pulling her back towards you. why? you didn't know yourself but something inside you was telling you to hear her out.
"no, i'm just a little shocked, you can come in" you said shallowly, moving out the way as the blonde wondered into your hotel room. taking a deep breath in as you shut the door behind you reminding yourself mental to have a chat with mary tomorrow.
"so?" you asked, hoping she would get to why she was actually here watching from behind as the blonde took a seat on your bed, you sitting on the one opposite her.
"i just wanted to see where we stand with each other-" the blonde started as you scoffed a small smile appearing on your face it dropped just a quick as you realised she was serious, "really?"
"yes y/n, look i know you hate me and you have every right to but i just want us to be civil or friends or something. i don't know" the blonde huffed as you nodded slightly with what she was saying.
a silence filling up the room, and an awkward silence at that.
"i miss you and i'm sorry for the way things ended" alessia admitted as your head snapped up. memories of the words she said to you when she was drunk flooding back within a second.
you paused, your head spinning giving you a slight headache, but that could also be from the shots you had taken mere hours ago. “i don’t hate you..” you whispered. this time the blonde looking at you her head tilted slightly sensing the fact you weren’t finished with what you needed to say.
“you don’t?” alessia asked, a slight bit of relief coming over her as you shook your head.
“i don’t but you really fucking hurt me alessia, i know you moved to arsenal for your career. and i’m not trying to take anything away from you for that cause i’ll admit your shining there. but i was your girlfriend. i thought you loved me and you just threw me to the side as if i meant nothing as if our relationship meant nothing!” you paused, taking a deep breathe as you continued.
“i had to ask your fucking teammates how you were doing just to know if you were okay cause you couldn’t seem to find the time answer my messages or calls..” you trailed off, your eyes starting to fill with tears.
“do you know what that felt like, to feel so un-important to someone that i cared and loved so much and someone who was supposed to love me.” you breathed out rubbing over your eyes to stop the tears from falling down your cheeks.
alessia looked at you were pure sorrow in her eyes, a sad smile on her face as she looked down at her hands playing with the gold ring that sat on her middle finger on her left hand.
“i didn’t know..” alessia whispered, still sliding her ring on and off her hand unable to look at you as guilt filled her body from your confession.
“of course you didn’t! you never made an effort once you moved to london!” you spat back, instantly regretting the out-lash as you pinched the bridge of your nose. before moving from sitting opposite the blonde to sit next to her on your bed.
“all i want is a second chance, just as friends nothing more. i meant it when i said i miss you” alessia confessed as you hummed. “i could say it a thousand times that i’m sorry for what i put you through but that won’t do it justice, i just want for our past to be put behind us.. and i would like to get to know you, the new you. if that’s okay with you.” alessia smiled as you nodded.
“so friends then?” you asked, alessia moving her eye line to meet yours her smile still on her face. “friends!” she moved slightly forward to hug you but stopped half way thinking she misread the situation spluttering an apology out as you shook your head wrapping your arms around the blonde in a friendly hug, pulling away after a few seconds.
“so do you still like ketchup with everything?”
part of you should have known you could never just be friends with the blonde. after the night where you spent with her in your hotel room talking the entire night, getting to know each other. rediscovering old habits and discovering new ones.
you found yourself wanting her attention. needing it.
after getting only a few hours sleep that night, you having a hard time saying goodbye to her after only just gotten her back in your life after so long. you didn’t want to say bye, again.
“i don’t want to go” you whined like a child as you slowly did your hair as a giggle came from alessia who was sprawled out on the bed.
“you have to though! we can see each other soon” alessia promised as you still sat tying a hair tie in your hair a huff coming from you. “but that’s too long!”
“it won’t be, either i’ll come up to you or you can come down to me”
and much to both of your promises only a week later after constant messages and facetimes, you found yourself at the blondes apartment in london. finding your first next free day and getting the first train down.
as you spent the evening watching a film, both cuddled up on her couch eating dinner which she had prepared and made before the night coming to a close and as you were going to the guest bedroom, her hand capturing yours and pulling you into her room.
you weren’t gonna lie it did feel weird to be this close to her after so long trying to distance yourself from her, but everything you knew lead you back to her.
you were lying on her bed face to face, as her hand gently came up to move the strand of hair from your face.
a small sigh coming from you, you felt at peace again. as alessia looked at you with nothing but love in those blue eyes of her, looking at you as if you were the only person in the world.
her hand dropping from your face, but before it could drop to its original place you grabbed it. lacing your hand between her, you noticing how your hands fitted perfectly together. together like a puzzle piece.
"i love you so much." she said quietly, a slight smile appearing on your face. but just as quickly as your hand laced with hers, she kissed you.
you responded with such enthusiasm that alessia was a little taken aback at first, but regained her thoughts and reminded herself of what was happening.
alessia was really kissing you.
you were really kissing her.
a feeling you'd been craving for just under a year, since the last time she set foot in your apartment in manchester. when she kissed you goodbye on the cheek, as you stood there shoulders sunken in and lifeless.
nothing could have meant more than her, nothing could have have more beauty than this moment. the way her hands pressed into your chest, the way her blue eyes fluttered closed. you fit into her like a glove, her kiss was like the beating of a butterfly's wings. so soft and wholesome until it became addictive.
and in those few moments you were reminded of why you fell for alessia in the first place. her scent was what you craved. you wanted to have her close to you, unsure where she ended and you began. you’d rather walk through hell again and again then lose her again.
her entrancing eyes, her captivating smile against your lips, her laugh when you did something silly, her hair which now hung just at her shoulder height as she looked at you, her raspy morning voice, her love was everything to you.
but your stupid, stupid lungs had to find air again, as you pulled away from her still lingering in close proximity to her. somehow alessia had moved position as she was now hovering over you, as she straddled you.
she was looking down at you with such an inviting warmth that you wanted to kiss her again, the silence still lingered as she pulled away you adjusting yourself to sit a little upright. a heat rising to your face.
"sorry, i-i shouldn't have..." you trailed of quietly looking at your fingers playing with the rings that you wore.
"what do you mean?" she said softly, watching the your worry struck face. "that wa- it's okay love"
"o-okay?" your voice was hoarse. you cleared your throat, laughing a little before she made the move to kiss you again.
"we'll take it slow, i promise. but i know what i want and that for you to be in my future and if i have to wait then that's what i'll do." alessia spoke with such reassurance and pureness, that made your heart beat just that little faster as you nodded.
a small smile coming onto the blondes face as she leaned forwards to place a gentle kiss onto your cheek.
"i love you, so much."
#alessia russo x reader#alessia russo#alessia russo x y/n#woso community#woso x reader#woso#woso imagine#woso blurbs#awfc#arsenal women#arsenal wfc#arsenal#mary earps#england wnt#england women#engwnt#enwoso
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YOUR ART IS SO CUTE AUGH…….. love the way u draw scarabia it makes my heart go 💗💗💗💗💗💗
I am curious if you have any Scarabia HCs… mayhaps Jamikali HCs?
Thank you!!! <333333
tbh I don't have many headcanons for Scarabia, but imo that's the chillest dorm, even with all the parties. Like, have you seen their dormitory? I wouldn't act up if I lived in a comfy place like that too.
But jamikali. Uhhhh
this is my own sort of turkish palace tv drama. More under the cut. It's gonna be long.
I like to imagine their relationship developing after a nice piece of timeskip (despite most certainly having feelings for each other in college), when they finally learn how it is to live apart from each other, growing out of their destructive behaviors at least for a bit.
My main headcanon and maybe the most delusional one that Kalim would mature up with time, getting more independent when Jamil leaves, though without losing his canonic positivity - in fact just growing up.
While Jamil learns how is it to be simplier and less demanding towards other and himself, traveling alone, not setting down anywhrre for too long. Though the main thing is that they cannot in fact forget each other, and break the attachment despite getting used to each other's absence, and their feelings finally getting some particular shape - and it's impossible to fully let go, no matter how hard they (mostly Jamil) try ;)
I rarely think of a particular reasons that could bring Jamil back to Asim household, though I have one little au concerning this matter which includes long distance between them with no communication, and even some kids, so I may share it one day. so I just keep it on the level of flat concept - Jamil returns after traveling, to either serve again or for Viper family matters.
I love to imagine Jamil's confusion and shyness at the sight of even more confident Kalim after a period of being apart from each other, and Kalim being happy to finally make Jamil look at him differently, which he consciously or subconsciously has been keeping as a goal all the time.
For some reasons I feel like Kalim would take lead in their relationship because he seems bolder to me when it comes to making decisions - Kalim just knows what he wants :/
So it's a hard for Jamil to process all the non-casual compliments, gifts and obvious advances (but not rejecting them, still afraid of his own feelings), just like in this post. Under these circumstances I believe Kalim is the one who attached the most, just because I love crazy devotion and loyalty :P (and Jamil is too used to lie to himself to admit his attachment aloud.)
It's a strange concept, but mostly it's just a huge headcanon I always keep in my head when I draw them - an emotional bond that just won't break, no matter if there's distance, time or silence between them.
It's hard for me to imagine them trying each other out during college years - too many predicaments and prejudices, they are too used to each other, and for their relationahip to work out they both need time to emotionaly mature up and... just have a rest from each other.
Anyway loving them endlessly.
it would be easier to just list the goddamn headcanons but I always talk too much I am so sorry
#ask#anon#also Kalim gives the craziest fairytale romance book prince compliments ever and Jamil unironically enjoys them. he told me himself#also I think Kalim can't keep his hands to himself and always seeks physical contact#and Jamil gets crazy flustered by it just because he is Jamil and he probably can't react normally on anything#I hope that makes some sense#art#sketch#jamikali#kalijami#TYSM ANON <3333333#no normal illustrations but a lot of text again#well I guess that's what blog's for#twst#twisted wonderland#scarabia
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I ACC LOVE UR ACC SMMM
Btw, can you pls do a bsf!rafe (who's low-key a little perverted) with shy, innocent!reader??
haha i feel like everyone looves pervy best friend rafe. this is like maybe if kook trio reader was actually shy reader
the boys were so nice, such good friends to you. you hadn't expected that a friendship between parents would lead to them inviting you into their exclusive boys club, the fourth in their trio.
but all of you got on surprisingly well—you could tell they were censoring themselves sometimes, maybe a couple less inappropriate jokes, drinking a little curbed because you weren't quite comfortable yet handling three drunk boys.
topper and kelce were nice, if not a little too polite. they never really bothered you, though they tried to include you in their conversations and make an effort.
no, it was rafe who really included you. he was everything a good friend should be—picking you up and dropping you off, never letting you walk home alone even if you guys were just hanging out at tannyhill down the road. he would get you your drinks and make sure you were a part of the conversation, never letting you sit alone or feel ignored.
he was being a great friend.. if not a little too much, too posessive. he didn't like when you talked to other boys, sometimes even if you were entranced in a conversation with top or kelce. sometimes it felt like he found reasons to drag you away.
and sometimes, though you thought you were imagining it, that rafe wouldn't actually do such a thing, you felt like he was touchier with you than others. he would often rest a hand on your knee at lunch, keep you on his lap at a party when you were too drunk and giggly to know better, to know this wasn't normal.
"that girl was looking at me.." you tell rafe, seated next to him on the couch. he'd just had you in his lap, but you'd crawled off to go freshen up, returning to the spot next to him. his arm is swung around your shoulder, his hand on your thigh.
"who?" he asks, glancing around. he doesn't see anyone.
"over there. she's been looking at you all night. i think we gave her the wrong idea, rafe-"
"wrong idea?"
"she's gonna think.. y'know. that we're together, or something." he doesn't even turn to look around, to see who it is.
"who cares, kid? let 'em think what they want." you look up a little confused, and rafe leans in to talk into your ear. "lions don't care about the opinions of sheep, right?" the way he says it, though any other day you'd smack his arm and laugh, makes your whole body shiver.
"yeah," you agree, not wanting rafe to think you disagree with him.
he spots kelce and top in the distance, walking closer, and he scoops you back into his lap with two strong hands on your hips. "gotta make room," he says while you squirm.
you settle in though, making yourself comfortable. he has to try hard not to keep staring down the front of your dress or moving too much—doesn't want you to know he's hard for his new little best friend.
yet, that is. no, he's gonna have you folded in half on his bed that he keeps telling you is perfectly fine to sleepover in, bent over in the back seat of the truck he picks you up in, pushed against the wall in the bathroom at the club where he takes you to show you around.
he's playing the long game, and he's enjoying it, a hand on your waist while you sip on your drink and talk to him about something, not kelce or top.
#sorry this isnt smutty or anything ugh im so bad at that#i hope u like babe ty for requesting#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader
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The MW2 boys reaction to you calling them pretty boy
w/ Price, Gaz, Ghost, Soap, Alejandro, Rudy
warnings?: swearing, mentions of drinking
*gn reader ( can be read as any gender ! )
!-!more under the cut!-!
John Price:
—You calling him pretty boy would definitely catch him off guard.
—Honestly he thinks it's a dare
—Depending on how well he knows you he might let it slide, unless you're in public or around other members of 141, then he'll reprimand you for it.
—Secretly enjoys it but tries not to show any reaction
"Drinking all by yourself pretty boy?"
John's head snapped in your direction, seeing you leaning against the counter. He was currently at the bar having a drink though your presence completely caught him off guard. He eyed you up and down before taking another sip of his drink, already sensing the headache inducing conversation ahead. "Pretty boy?" He questioned, his body jolting in a silent laugh, though it was more out of disbelief than anything. "Never call me that again Sergeant." "Yes sir."
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick:
—Did he hear you right?
—Is honestly super flustered but is very happy with the new nickname, he's still very confused at the suddenness of it though.
—He's super smiley all day afterwards like it's all he can think about. Price had to ask him what was had happened to make him so happy.
Gaz was going through a routine pre-workout stretch in the training room. He had more of a lean build compared to some of his mates and though that doesn't make him any less capable it still made him feel as though he has to keep up sometimes. "Nice arms you got there pretty boy!" He turned his head in your direction, his eyebrows raised as he watched you wink at him before disappearing into the hallway. He beamed, feeling a bit more energized than before. He completed his workout with a confidence boost, nobody could tear Gaz down that day. He knew he was getting questioning looks from Price about his smiley attitude but he didn't care.
Simon "Ghost" Riley:
—He's so confused? Like did you really just say that to him of all people?? The guy wearing the mask all the time???
—Like Price, he thinks it's a dare or a joke you got forced into by Soap or something
—Doesn't know how to take random genuine compliments that have no context so please bare with him
—Might just fully ignore you honestly, especially if its early mornings
Ghost sighed as he walked into the common room. Soap and Gaz were talking about something in the corner of the room while Price seemed to be sat reviewing some files, you standing over his shoulder. You noticed him first, your eyes catching his as he stood in the doorway. You nodded your head at him, "Morning pretty boy." He blinked at you, seeing if you were serious. It wasn't something he had expected to leave your mouth and he didn't know how to react, he was thankful for his mask at times like these. Noticing your greeting, Price had turned and nodded to him as well before the both of you went back to looking at the files. He mumbled a "Fuckin' 'ell" as he walked deeper into the room. He just hoped that nickname wouldn't stick.
John "Soap" MacTavish:
—He easily accepts the new nickname with a smirk
—Two can play that game 'cause he'll definitely flirt back a little to be honest
—You're just adding fuel to his ego ya know
—Like Gaz he's just a big ole happy boy after you call him pretty boy
Soap was with Ghost in the locker room on base. He was chatting with Ghost, though it was more like he was talking while Ghost was listening, only giving input when he felt necessary. You'd walked in when Soap had just taken off his tactical vest, leaving him in nothing but a tight black shirt. A whistle cut through the air, catching the attention of both men. "Looking good pretty boy." Soap's expression morphed from confusion to that of an amused one. A smirk rested on his lips as he crossed his arms. "Not lookin' too bad yourself there la' " He winked before hearing Ghost groan about how you two were being gross.
Alejandro Vargas:
—It catches him off guard much like Price but he quickly gets over his shock
—Like Soap he's more than likely to flirt back with you
—Finds it funny, especially if it comes from nowhere
—Will tease you to hide his own flustered state
You were currently occupying yourself by cleaning off one of your favorite submachine guns. It was then that Alejandro had walked in with Rodolfo. They were both coated in sweat after a morning run which Rudy had immediately left to wash off. You would have joined them both had you not been minorly injured on one of the recent expeditions. You weren't complaining though, you got to rest all day and take in sights like this. A smirk found its way onto your face as your eyes scanned over Alejandro's form. "Welcome back pretty boy." Alejandro shook his head, a smile resting on his face. "Ten cuidado amigo/a, falling for me can be dangerous." (Be careful, friend)
Rodolfo Parra:
—He's flattered to say the least, he definitely wasn't expecting it but he's not mad at all
—Like Gaz and Soap he's very smiley afterwards
—You made his day with such a simple compliment and he secretly hopes the nickname will stick cause it makes his heart flutter.
Rodolfo was currently training some new recruits for Los Vaqueros, yelling semi-threatening words of encouragement as he watched them run the track. The yelling along with the heat had made him a bit lightheaded though he fought against the feeling. He jolted when a hand clapped his back, turning to see your face greeting him with a smile. "You doing alright pretty boy?" If you asked Rudy later he'd definitely blame the blush rising in his cheeks on the heat. "S-Sí, I'm ok." You tilted your head, unhooking your hip flask from your belt. You held it out to him "Cuídate Rudy." (Take care of yourself) He nodded, grabbing the flask from your hand and taking a big sip before handing it back to you. "Gracias." "De nada."
----!----
( first time writing for COD men I hope it turned out ok !! )
Thanks for reading! Have a great day/night!!
My requests are OPEN but you can still send me messages to see if I'm close to opening them again!
See my DIRECTORY for upcoming fics!
Masterlist
#cod mw2#cod mw2 x reader#cod mw2 x you#cod mw2 headcanons#john price#kyle gaz garrick#simon ghost riley#john soap mactavish#alejandro vargas#rodolfo parra#mw2 imagine#captain price x reader#gaz x reader#ghost x reader#soap x reader#alejandro vargas x reader#rodolfo parra x reader#cod mw2 fanfic#prismuffin#fanfiction#cod mw2 imagines#call of duty modern warfare 2#cod men#cod mw2 fic#cod mw2 fluff#x gn reader#x reader
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IF YOU LOVE ME, LET ME KNOW | jack hughes.
chapter five:
<last chapter> <next chapter>
➴ warnings: fighting, misunderstanding, mentions of cheating
➴ word count: 3.2k
➴ author’s note: shit hit the fan yall… who the hell is going to fix this mess..
YOU woke up at ten to two after sleeping for seven hours straight. One thing about stressed you, is that you'd sleep for twenty-four hours if given the opportunity.
But you were thirsty and you needed to get your hands on a glass of water before you died from dehydration.
So, you got up, and made your way to the kitchen, only stopping when you saw your phone blowing up on the counter.
Frowning, you picked it up, confused with the hundreds of notifications on your lock screen.
You completely forgot about your need for water. With your heart on your mouth, you sat on one of your stools, unlocking your phone and texting Grace.
Usually, you didn't care about gossip. You'd always just joke about it on Twitter with your fans and move on.
People liked to invent things and you couldn't exactly stop them. So you just let it happen.
But apparently, Jack was involved in this too. Which left you confused because people didn't know about you two. Or at least, that's what your media team would say, whenever you had a meeting with them— a weekly occurrence, ever since the album was announced.
Typing your name on Google, you didn't have to dig too deep: an article published five hours ago was the first to show up. "Former Flames: NHL Star Jack Hughes Moves On with New Flame After Breakup with Pop Singer, Sophia Montenegro".
What the fuck?
Opening it, you could swear your heart would stop any moment. Hands shaking, you read every line, thinking of everything and nothing at the same time.
It seems love off the ice is just as fast-paced as the action on it for NHL star Jack Hughes. The hockey player, known for his fierce plays and competitive edge, is making headlines for his personal life as well. After a low-profile breakup with pop sensation Sophia Montenegro, Jack Hughes has already moved on-and he's not keeping it a secret.
According to our anonymous sources, the athlete and singer had started dating back in April, after they met at the New Jersey Devils [Jack Hughes' team] charity gala, and kept everything in the dark for six months straight: nothing more than a few Instagram comments and likes to prove anything.
However, despite the chemistry, the relationship ended after Jack was seen with one of his exes last night, Ava Mitchell. Jack Hughes is known for his short-term relationships so it wouldn't be anything new.
We hope Mrs. Montenegro is okay, after her second break-up in less than two years. Maybe our sweet girl, Sophia, has bad luck with relationships.
You didn't bother reading the rest, locking your phone and gently placing it on the counter again.
The rational part of your brain was telling you that none of that was true, and that this was just a gossip magazine doing what’s supposed to be doing, but you recognised the girl in the photo, it was the same girl on Jack’s lap yesterday. And that was obviously Jack, holding her hand like some kind of loving boyfriend.
You sighed, running your hands through your hair. You knew that something like this would happen. All of the good moments you had with Jack apparently were just that: good moments. And now, bad memories.
You knew what you had to do. Keep going, just like you did when Harris broke up with you over text after cheating on you the night before. Keep going, just like you did when your name got dragged into the mud because of that.
But doing that with Jack, for some crazy reason, was harder than you thought it’d be. Maybe because you had a lot of expectations and watching them getting crushed right in front of you sucked.
Your phone buzzed in front of you, Grace’s picture shining. You sighed, before picking it up. “Hi,” you whispered, remembering that you were still thirsty and this was the first word you said in seven hours.
“Hey, baby, how are you?” She sounded worried, and you understood her. This was the first somewhat scandal you’ve had in months. So yeah.
“I just read it…” you took a deep breath. “Gosh, what the hell. What happened after I left?”
You heard Grace move something around before she started speaking again. “Honey, I wish I could tell you something entirely different but… I did see Jack leaving with that girl. I am so sorry. Like, genuinely.”
Your entire body felt like it weighed three times more. Your heart shrank to the size of a pea and you could feel your hand tremble a little bit.
You had seen the picture, you knew that Jack had left the party with the girl but still. It hurt.
“Did you talk to him?” Grace asked, voice worried.
“No, I— Grace, I don’t know what to do,” you whispered, feeling something tickle your cheek. You wiped it with your hands, just to realize that it was tears. You were crying. “I like him so much. I had finally accepted it, I told you— I thought he felt the same.”
“I did too. I don’t know what happened. Maybe… God I hate to say this but maybe you should talk to him?”
You let out a wet laugh. “No way in hell I’m talking to him. I made that mistake with Harris. Every time he’d do something shitty, I’d go after him and talk to him, accept his excuses, his behavior. I’m not that Sophia anymore.”
“I know, I know… I just…” she sounded uncertain. “God. Why are men like this?”
You wiped your tears, smiling for the first time in hours.
“I don’t know.”
“Also, that song you sent me… is it about him?”
You were confused just for a second, before remembering the song you wrote last night— morning?
“Yeah,” you mumbled, feeling just the tiniest bit of embarrassment. “Couldn’t get it out of my head. What’d you think?”
“It’s perfect. Just like everything you write,” you could hear her smiling. You smiled too. “I love you so much, Soph.”
“I love you too, Grace. Don’t worry, I'll be fine,” you sounded like you were trying to convince yourself, and not her. “Let’s just focus on the album and the launching party, right? Fuck Jack Hughes.”
“Yes, you’re right. Fuck him and not in a good way!”
You laughed, feeling the pain inside your chest ease up a little bit.
It was going to be fine.
— ♡
JACK called you three times in the past three days.
You felt shitty not picking up any of his calls because you knew he was away for the entire week, but honestly, you weren’t ready to hear any of his excuses.
So drowning yourself in work was the answer for all of your problems. Day and night, you went to photoshoots and interviews, none of the questions being about you and Jack, thankfully. You knew it was all your team’s doing but still, it felt nice to talk about yourself and your work, and not about men who did nothing but make you hate yourself.
Grace thought you had to at least hear Jack out. But you knew that if you did that, the chances of you forgiving him were high. Higher than they should be. Because you’re still very much in love with him and want to be with him at all times.
“Good work today, guys,” Russel, your choreographer, shouted, everyone clapping together. You were all rehearsing for your launching party, a mini-concert with only a couple hundred people, something to introduce your album.
“Thank you, guys, love you.” You breathed, remembering how you should go back to the gym because singing and dancing at the same time required a lot of effort.
You headed back to your house, staring at the sunset through your car’s window, sighing loudly at the traffic in front of you. It was seven p.m. and you were tired and famished, thinking about all of the take-out options you could order when you got home.
“What the…” you muttered, when you tried entering your garage, but was unable to since there was a car there already. A car that you unfortunately knew very well. “The hell is he doing here?”
Jack was leaning against his car, a crazy thing to do during winter but whatever, wearing a beanie and a Devils hoodie, while looking at something in his phone.
He was supposed to be away. For a week.
Opening your door, you welcomed the cool breeze on your skin. The workout clothes felt too tight on your body and the bag on your hand felt too heavy but you held it tight. He still hadn’t noticed you so maybe you could walk past him without him noticing you?
“Hey, baby,” and yes, of course that didn’t work. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
You looked at him like he was out of his mind, but he just kissed your forehead and grabbed something from inside the car. A Five Guys takeout bag. Fuck him for knowing your favorite burger place.
“I got us food but I think the guy there messed with my order on purpose because he recognised me and he was wearing a Rangers pin which I thought was forbidden during work hours? But I never had a nine to five job so I can’t really tell.”
You continued to move, asking yourself why the hell Jack was so talkative today. Usually, he’d just answer your questions and leave it at that. But he must’ve spent too much time with Luke because damn, this man was a yapper now.
Opening the door, you let him in, not really sure why. Maybe Grace was right and you did need closure, but you expected to have this conversation with him through texts, and not face to face like right now.
He looked so dreamy. He’d shaved, so he looked eighteen years old all over again. His hair, hidden by the beanie, looked longer now and you desperately wanted to run your hands through it. He was standing there, cheeks and lips red, blue eyes looking directly at yours.
Why did he have to be so handsome? It’d all be much easier if he was ugly.
“You’re so quiet today, did something happen?” He asked, yanking you out of the train of thoughts about how handsome he was.
And suddenly, you were back in Harris’ living room, one year ago, watching as the man cried on your lap, apologizing over and over again, saying that he’d never lie to you and that he’d never let you down.
Your stomach was starting to hurt and you felt yourself breathing faster.
“I ran this conversation in my head a thousand times, but I never once imagined you’d just not talk about it and move on, y’know?” You mumbled, heart racing in your chest. “Was it worth it, Jack?”
His confused face made you hurt even more because, somehow, it looked genuine. “What are you talking about? Was what worth it?”
“So you’ll keep denying it?” You raise one eyebrow, feeling the sorrow being replaced by something uglier, something heavier. Something like anger.
“Denying what, Sophia?” He stepped closer, hands reaching to your body, which you dodged. If you’re going to do this, you’ll need every ounce of space in your house. “Sophia, what—”
“I know I have no right to be mad at you for this, because I know we were just fucking,” you smiled, but it didn’t reach your eyes. “Hell, I was the one who said I didn’t want a relationship first. So I understand why you didn’t reach out to me, why you’re not apologizing, why you’re playing dumb, but—”
“Sophia,” he cut you off, his voice one octave deeper. You shivered, watching as he frowned at you. “I don’t know why you’re saying all of this shit. What the hell happened?”
You looked at him, analyzing his face and, once again, seeing nothing but pure confusion in his expression. You found it hard to believe that he didn’t know about the article, didn’t know about how people were saying that no one stayed with you for a long time, didn’t know about his ex announcing to everyone on her Instagram page that they were together again.
But unfortunately, you also knew that Jack wasn’t a liar. He’d never been, and probably would never be.
“So you don’t know about the article?”
“Article?” He furrowed his eyebrows. “Are you talking about gossip pages on Instagram? Soph, you know the only thing I do in that fucking app is like your photos, watch the weird ass reels you send me, and send pictures of ugly animals to my brothers and say it looks like them,”
Pulling your phone from your pocket, you google the article that you had every word memorized by now with how much you’ve read it. Showing it to him, you saw his face go through all stages of emotions: confusion, anger and understanding.
“You didn’t know about this?”
“I don’t read the articles people write about me. I don’t give a fuck about people’s opinions,” he growled, handing your phone back to you and taking his beanie off so he could run his hands through his hair. “I don’t know who the hell sent that information about us.”
“Can’t you see that the problem here isn’t people knowing that we were fucking?” You snapped, almost crushing your phone with how hard you were gripping it. “The problem here, Jack, is you leaving that fucking party with your fucking ex, after she spent half of her night on your lap.”
“The hell is wrong with that, Sophia?” He snapped too, looking angry and annoyed at the same time. “You left with fucking Quinn and didn’t even say goodbye to me. Me leaving with Ava isn’t any fucking different.”
“‘Isn’t any fucking different?’ Fuck you, Jack. Fuck,” you touched his chest with your index finger. “You.”
“Sophia, what is going on? You’re mad at me because I left with Ava? She was fucking out of her mind, drunk as hell, and I just took her home!” He raised his arms, like that was enough of an explanation. “It’s not my fault someone took a picture of us leaving and wrote a fucking article about that.”
“I’m not mad at you, Jack,” you whispered, staring into his eyes, losing yourself all over again, just like you did six months ago. “I’m mad at myself for falling in love with you.”
You were both taken aback by your statement. You had zero intentions of telling Jack how you felt about him because that would just be too much humiliation to handle but now the shit hit the fan and he knew.
“It’s…” he stared, biting his lips and averting your gaze. “It’s not like I cheated on you, Sophia. We aren’t dating.”
Oh.
Right.
You knew something like this would happen and still. Your heart hurts all the same. It isn’t that serious, your brain was yelling at you, get a fucking grip.
“I know,” you whispered, trying to count your breathings. “I know that, Jack. You don’t need to tell me.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” He stepped closer. “About how you feel?”
“Was it going to change anything?” Your voice quivered with sadness and you hated yourself for it. The plan was to tell him to fuck off and leave him but now you were almost crying and losing your shit in front of him.
“Yes, Sophia, fuck,” he put his hands on your arms, squeezing you slightly. “Of course it was!”
“Jack, no,” you freed yourself from his touch, walking around your living room, with your hands on your head. “I didn’t tell you that just to watch you pity me, I was trying to make a point. Don’t start lying now just for the sake of it.”
“Lying? I’m not fucking lying, Sophia,” he sounded angry now. “If you had told me this before, I would’ve—”
“‘Would’ve’ what?” You raised your voice too, tears now streaming down your face freely. “Would’ve said you’re in love with me too? Would’ve abandoned your whore days just to be with me? Fuck off, Hughes, we both know that isn’t true.”
“Just because you like to paint me as the man whore of the Devils it doesn’t mean that that is true,” he snapped, again. “I’ve been with you for six months now, and I never, not even once, touched another woman, or even thought about doing it. Because I just wanted you, Sophia, can’t you fucking see it?”
You sat on the couch, covering your face with your hands, trying to hide the fact that those words affected you more than you would ever admit.
“I get it that your fuckhead ex-boyfriend fucked you up and I am sorry for it, baby, I really am, but I’m not like him—”
“Jack, no,” you stopped him and removed your hands from your face, not caring if you looked ugly or destroyed. “Just leave. It’s better this way.”
“Leave? Are you insane?” He raised his voice. “No, I’m not leaving. I’m telling you that I am in lo—”
“Don’t you fucking dare, Hughes,” you got up, walking until you were toe to toe with him, looking up until your eyes met his. “I don’t want to hear it. Leave, please.”
“What the hell, man, you’re— you’re not even hearing me out!” He sounded desperate.
“I don’t want— I don’t need any more of your lies or pity. Sorry if you lost a good fuck, but I’m sure you’ll find someone else to get your dick wet.” It hurt you saying this but you needed to hurt him in order to make him leave, even if only God knew how much you wanted him to stay.
But the people you loved, the men you loved, never stayed.
Eventually, if you both started dating, he’d get tired of the routine and he’d find someone else. He’d start lying and cheating and apologizing just to do it all again, stepping on your heart like he did to the ice.
So you needed him to leave.
“So you think that you were just that to me?” He scoffed. “A good fuck? I took you to my parents’ house. I introduced you to them. I talked to my friends about you and I made time for something else besides Hockey. I wanted you in my life and now you’re telling me that it was all just sex to me?”
His eyes have never looked bluer. Your entire body felt cold, and you knew it wasn’t because of the weather. It was because you could feel Jack distancing himself from you, and it hurt.
“Leave, Hughes.”
He stared at you for a full minute, the room quiet. Then, he nodded once and twice, before stepping back and making his way to your door.
Opening it, he turned back and looked at you again. “I hope you know that you can’t keep your heart locked away forever, Soph.”
Wanting nothing but to be in his arms, you stared at him until he softly closed the door. You don’t know how much time you spent looking at the wooden entrance, feeling like you just watched your forever walk away.
#jack hughes#jack hughes x you#jack hughes x oc#jack hughes x reader#jack hughes fic#jack hughes smut#jack hughes x singer!fmc#jack hughes x singer!reader#IYLMLMK
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~ a little something about the complicated way you and Dazai acknowledge each other's feelings ~
"We can't let it end like this. We simply can't."
"Dazai, what are you talking about? I'm literally just going on my lunch break."
"... I'll find a way for us to be together! Someday!"
You've been bickering back and forth with him ever since you stepped foot in the agency this morning, or more like he's been performing a whiney one sided narrative that you and your co-workers are more than familiar with. Though it's only ever directed at you. The confusing declarations of love, the lack of personal space, and then there are the days he won't even look or speak to you at all. It was emotional whiplash, but you did your best to drown out the feelings he evoked in you.
Dangerous ones you wouldn't dare indulge in, because if so, you get the feeling your heart would never recover from a man like Dazai. You grab your wallet, and push in your desk chair when he calls out to you once more in a much more serious tone, one that sounds bored.
"If you must leave, will you please pick up something on your way back for me?"
"What is it this time?"
"Bandages, I suppose"
He says that like it's an afterthought, like he couldn't care less for whatever he was asking for.
He's been asking you to go on odd little shopping trips for him for weeks now, and you being the dog you are, say yes every single time. You think about how Dazai loathes dogs. It makes you physically ill the way you feel about him. Whatever it is. You nod, and reply softly.
"Okay. Sure."
"So compliant! If I didn't know any better l'd say you're madly in love with me. Should we run off into the sunset and get married?"
You simply stare at his sardonic smile for a long while, and he stares back. It's like you're sending each other psychic waves, secret messages only you two could decode. Only you two could fathom. He stares into you with that piercing gaze of his, the one that might as well call you an idiot for ever thinking there's a real person behind his heavenly face. His eyes are pretty, they make yours feel dull in comparison. After a while, a faint half smile creeps onto your lips, trying to feign the same indifference as his. You fail, obviously.
"Mm, sounds too hopeful, even for you."
"Yikes! Right you are. Commitment. How awful.... No one wants that kind of trouble."
Dazai states cruelly, leaning back into his chair at his desk, arms crossed. He has to bite down to keep from smiling and giggling like a fool, as this is exactly what he wishes would happen.
His heart flutters for a brief moment at the visual of such a fantasy, such privilege to have you forever. He knows how badly you secretly want this too, but he doesn't plan on putting you out of your misery just yet. Shame on you to think of him as a real person who's allowed to pursue the things he wants! He continues when he sees you've gone completely silent, standing with your keys in your hand like a mannequin.
"Besides, I'm sure you've met plenty of other guys that are far more suitable for you. I mean, look at me, I used to be a criminal." He winks at you, hinting at his sketchy past. He's such a fantastic performer when he's at his worst.
"... And no one wants that kind of trouble, right?" You echo his past words back to him, once again failing to match his rejection.
"Oh you wretched little creature. Right again!"
You can't take much of this any longer, smiling politely as you simply turn around, and walk out of the agency. Your eyes sting.
Dazai just sits there, staring at the door, counting the seconds until you're back. He rests his chin on his palm, unblinking. He taps his fingers on the desk, and lets out a deep sigh. It's all he does, all he looks forward to every single day you leave.
You finally come back nearly an hour later, carrying a small bag and leftovers from your lunch. He lights up like the moon during the clearest night sky, and stands up immediately. His demeanor completely changes as he flashes you a delighted grin, rushing to you.
"You're back~"
"Yeah, here are your bandages."
"My what?"
"The bandages you asked for..?"
His eyes widen for a moment, and then he chuckles, shaking his head. He flicks his own forehead.
"Of course! Thank you. Now, may I have the receipt as well?"
He looks excited, his open palm cupped in front of you, as if you were giving him a treat. You raise a brow and shrug, handing him the crumpled piece of paper. You don't even question it anymore. He frowns. You think he looks like a disgruntled little kid.
"Ugh. You wrinkled it."
"What? Why does it matter?"
"Well I obviously wanted to keep it, silly goose."
You try to make sense of what he could possibly mean, and you decide it's not worth getting into. You can't afford the heartache nor the brain cells.
"That's the weirdest thing you've ever asked me."
"Not true. I've never asked you for a kiss~"
You almost drop to the floor with the way his eyes darken, despite his tone being the complete opposite. You stare at him yet again for what feels like ages, your heart set ablaze, with Dazai being the pyromaniac who won't let your embers die out of his own amusement. Your voice comes out low, meek.
"Well I'm clearly not the person you dream of, so no."
You could swear his awful smirk falls off just a tiny bit, but any evidence of that is gone in a blink of an eye. His voice comes out soft and laced with a hint of honeyed bitterness.
"And if you weren't, l'd dream of you anyway."
He mutters under his breath as he looks out the window, as if you weren't supposed to hear that. the sun is slowly setting and the moon will illuminate soon after. He wishes he could see what you look like at night.
You roll your eyes because if you don't, you'll bury your face in his chest and sob. Oh, he's the worst. You put on your best cynical voice followed by a scoff.
"That's lovely, Dazai."
"You look lovely." He states simply, still looking at the way the moon ghosts in the sky.
"... Thank you."
"It's my pleasure." He murmurs, solemnly. In that moment, you don't catch it, but he's telling you he loves you too.
And just like that, you slowly walk past him and sit at your desk. You might have a stroke, but you still have reports to finish.
Dazai quietly does the same, sitting down and opening a drawer, and then a secret compartment within it. He glances at you for a moment, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he flashes you an exaggerated smile when you catch him looking, then turns his attention back down, the smile dropping.
He places the wrinkled receipt into a larger stack of countless other receipts, all from past errands you've run for him lately. He smoothes it carefully, for it is a priceless sentiment amongst his collection of the things you so graciously give him. It's pathetic, but it's like holding your hand. It's like kissing you. It's like true love.
#i didnt mean for this to come off as angsty as it did#i promise YOURE IN LOVE... ITS COMPLICATED OFC#he's complicated and just rubs off on u bc if u didnt adapt u would fall apart and so would he#also this is long bear w me :(#i love him i love the idea of him collecting ur receipts it's oddly specific#i love u guys thank u for supporting my ramblings of the WORST MAN ALIVE#freakzai my beloved#he's a freak and he's sooo obsessed with u he keeps those receipts for his heart#bungou stray dogs#dazai x reader#bsd dazai#dazai x you#osamu dazai#osamu dazai x reader#bsd x reader#dazai imagines#dazai angst#hurt/comfort#gn reader#dazai osamu#bungo stray dogs
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❝ tell me you are mine ❞
stepdad!leon x fem!reader.
summary: you just wanted he to be yours, one more night, one last night... just one last one, right?
content: 3.9k words, angst and little comfort, porn with plot, p in v, unprotected sex, doggy style, oral (m receiving), reader rides Leon, breeding kink, size kink, stepcest, age gap (reader ALWAYS +18), real daddy kink yk (not only in the sexual way)
note: i bring the third part because i see that you like it a lot uwu, i hope you enjoy it even though i'm a dramatic as fuck. all your reblogs and comments are well received !! ily'all. ♡
THE CHAPTER IS BEING CORRECTED AND EDITED TO AVOID GRAMMATICAL ERRORS, so i'm sorry if there are parts that are not very understandable uwu.
"Thank you for accompany me..." you said in a soft voice, and your eyes slipped out the window, blonde hair peeking out made you smile in a mischievous way.
"It's okey... I wouldn't want to let you walk around alone" said Mike, your college mate, with whom you had finished a project that very day and, therefore, the hours had passed so fast that when you wanted to realize it the sun had already said goodbye. And, ever the gentleman, he offered to accompany you to your place of residence.
You knew that Leon was looking out the window, attentive to how his little daughter took the boy's arm with her hands and caressed him with feigned innocence. Your companion immediately tensed, laughing softly with you, and before you could even get any closer than you were the door opened with a swiftness worthy of your stepfather. Come on, he wasn't a government agent just for the hell of it.
"Inside" his voice was low and he didn't bother to greet the young man in front of him, who with an uncomfortable look said goodbye to you as best he could and took off, rather uneasily. And he was no less, a man of 6'4", with large arms and breasts that drew a menacing stance. That is until you looked at his eyes, his furrowed brows and the sharpness of his gaze that made you shiver. But, even though Mike flew away in fear, you could only feel your panties getting wet, making you sigh.
You didn't let him notice, at least not that much, and just walked in gently pushing the older man's shoulder in annoyance "Thanks for scaring the fuck out of my partner" you grumbled, arms crossed and the tantrum tone made Leon snort, closing the door behind him. Yes, you were his lovely girl but you could also be fucking capricious a lot of the time, going so far as to disobey. He blamed your mother for that behavior, anyway.
"We already talked about how dangerous being late is, and you keep doing the same thing" his tone was harsh and impatience was starting to show, which deep down made you stir because, well, pissing Leon off was a hard thing to do and you were pulling it off without trying very hard.
"Mike walked me here!" you argued with him, stomping your foot on the floor and feeling your hormones flutter in your stomach. You just wanted him to shut the fuck up and stop talking to you with that worry and demand in his tone of voice, all it accomplished was to send your body into a state of confusion. Where you were fighting with yourself about whether that discomfort in him made you feel worried or... horny.
"I don't like that boy walking around after you, you know I can't leave you in the hands of just anyone..." his tone softened and he tried to move closer to you, wanting to rest his hand on your waist, but you were exalted enough to let him touch you. You were too weak before him, holy shit.
"Leon" you emphasized, moving away only a few slight steps. His blond eyebrows rose in surprise "It's my life, you know that, don't you?" you crossed your arms over your chest and sighed "I'm not a child...or why can you have a normal life with my mother and I have to be left waiting for you?" your words seemed to sink deep into Leon. His gaze contracted and he sighed, causing him to take a full upright posture.
"Your mother or I will pick you up at the university, no more delays... and NO more classmates escorting you to the front door, got it?" his tone of voice rose and you felt the lump in your throat tighten, causing you to step forward, desperate, trapped. You wanted to hit him, you wanted to ruin him and make him regret his stupid words. But at the same time you wanted everything to go back to the way it was a few hours before; just to have him to yourself and to take care of you the way only he knew how.
But this was getting out of hand. Both of them.
"Fuck you, Leon" you uttered, not a word more, not a word less. Your posture remained the same, both of you staring at each other in a battle of who had more pride. But you were competing with Leon Stubborn Kennedy, that was going to be fucked up.
"What did you say, brat?" he raised an eyebrow and took a step forward but you got ahead by walking up the stairs, leaving him with the words in his mouth "Who the hell do you think you are for-"
"Fuck you! That's what I mean!" you shouted, almost unintentionally but... you broke free, you could almost feel the tears threatening to explode in your eyes.
"If you think you can do what you want you are wrong, it's my fucking house and you will do what I tell you" his voice was hard, you had never, seriously, never heard him talk to you like that. In his posture, look, presence there were no traces of the loving and caring father that Leon was, but rather of a hard and strict father... almost like your biological father, let's say "If you think you can bring any asshole to the door of my house and make little scenes throwing yourself on him, get those ideas out of your fucking head!" he seemed exasperated, but those last words ended up spilling the glass, leaving you with your heart in your hand. But you could only squeeze it and put it aside, but fuck your heart.
"And you get it out of your fucking head that you can fuck me and then go on with your life normally!" you ran up the stairs as fast as you could and with a loud bang you slammed the door. Your heart was pounding and tears were already inevitable, streaming down your red cheeks even though you were trying to be strong and not fall.
Leon downstairs was trying to understand how everything had escalated into such a fight. What was going on in your mind that suddenly things had become so distorted; with him and you saying hurtful things to each other that didn't even make sense.
However, that situation from the night before had been going around in your mind all day long. You had gone out in the middle of the night to get a glass of water, thinking that Leon and your mother were already sleeping, but the dim light and sound of the television made you you will go down slowly to the stairs and you saw them both comfortably on the sofa. Leon lying on her chest while she gently stroked his hair. You felt your heart being pierced by a painful pang that left you breathless for a few seconds. You felt envy, hatred, and sorrow that made you feel guilt and desire at the same time. Envy of your mother, for not being the one who would be in her place, and that hatred mixed with sadness for knowing that, even if you tried, you would never be the most important woman in Leon's life. You would not be the one bound to him with vows of loyalty and love. You were simply that morbid sensation that probably excited him, but you couldn't blame him because even if you tried to push him away and ignore him, the addiction to the sensations that being with him generated in you were simply... desperate, overwhelming but beautiful.
You had no choice but to go to bed with tears in your eyes and waking up the next morning with the news that your mother would be absent that weekend, and then it made more sense for you to be together that night. And you couldn't believe that you were more attentive to how much time Leon decided to spend with his wife than you were to the thought that you would miss your mother in her absence.
And the guilt returned.
And it lingered and distressed you. Making you feel alone, without the arms of someone to shelter you. Looking to any foolish boy you came across for some of that warmth that Leon was able to give you. And really... no one was able to love you as much as he did.
Sometimes you hated yourself and the habit of needing a cool glass of water very late at night. But there you were again praying to God that he wasn't in the room. However, it seemed that day was not a lucky one, and Leon's blond hair was illuminated by the dim warm light of the lamp, matching the low sound of the TV. As soon as you came downstairs with the greatest care of all, you saw how he stirred on the couch, probably waking up from his soft reverie.
You ignored him, you were just looking for water and that was it, you didn't have to see each other and he didn't have to get up. You opened the fridge, took a glass and poured the water gently so as not to make too much noise. And there it was again. That soft scent of expensive whiskey, his stubble a few days old against your neck and his arms wrapped around. There was the reason for your lack of compromise, you couldn't resist him and you were sure he felt you leaning your back against his chest, closing your eyes slowly.
"I don't want to talk to you if you're drunk..." you murmured, the sigh was inevitable, but you didn't move an inch away. You could feel Leon's arms squeeze you tighter and his soft lips leave a trail of wet kisses down the curve of your neck. As if you were going to run away again and that alone was enough to make you stay. And it was.
"I'm not... I barely tasted a sip" his voice drowned out by the kisses he was leaving you, his citrus yet sweet scent intruding on your skin to mark you and leave his scent on you "but i really need to talk to you, baby, I didn't mean to sound that way and I don't want you to feel that way about this either" contradictory to his words, you turned around without leaving his arms, and rested your tired head on his chest. You were his little girl and he was going to take care of you, right? You just wanted to ignore reality for one night.
"It's impossible for me not to feel that way, Leon" your hands clutched the fabric of his shirt, shortening the space between you even more "I just... I don't want to think, I don't want to concentrate on that anymore... I just want to be yours for one more night and for you to be mine. But only mine, you know what I mean?" your face lifted gently and you stopped holding back, seeking his lips with a thirst to taste him.
"I'm yours..." he murmured, their mouths brushing inches away from colliding and sinking into a kiss "but it's just that despair me that anyone else is near you, that anyone can smell you, feel you, hurt you" you licked his lower lip and sucked the spot gently, without it turning into a kiss "I'll be yours as many times as it takes" he moaned in desperation, opening his mouth as soon as you initiated a kiss just as desperate as the first time.
The disorder, the chaos, the whirlwind of sensations, on the contrary, calmed your mind. You stopped putting pressure on yourself wondering if it was right, if the two of you could maybe at some point be something more, or if it was just the thrill of the moment and he would leave you like everyone else who had passed through your life. You only wanted him for you, you wanted there to be no other woman in his life but you, you would give him reasons so he couldn't forget you. Yes, maybe that night or the next night would be the last, but you would be so marked in him that he would never be able to erase you.
Your kisses were his addiction, the endless missions where he didn't have you like at that moment made him go crazy; that he thought about leaving everything that at some point meant something just for you. He lived to have you on him like that moment. Both of you on the soft couch, his hands massaging the soft flesh of your ass while you ate his mouth like your favorite dessert. You felt small on top of him, but you didn't stop pushing him to the limit for it; you wanted in a way to punish him, to ruin him for making you feel so displaced from his life, and Leon just wanted you to stay close to him, to stick like gum to his shoe and chase him to hell if possible. That's where you both belonged, he thought.
"Fuck, just let me touch you more" he moaned, your tongues caressing each other slowly now, as if savoring that thing about both of you that you hadn't been able to taste in days. Your hands caressed his cheeks and traveled to Leon's hair, massaging the trails left by those golden but opaque strands. Your kisses moved slowly and wetly down their neck, you heard them gasp low even and could feel the inside of your thighs collide with the hardness of his cock. You were both wet but your kisses stopped when one of his long, thick fingers wanted to intrude into your shorts, brushing against your entrance.
"If you keep going, I'm leaving" the stiffness of his body was instantly felt, and like a dumb hound he searched your eyes trying to understand what he did wrong, but you weren't going to let him go so easily "You know, dad..." you began, moving his hands away leaving them at the sides of his body while your right took his fat piece and squeezed it gently above the fabric "I like everything about you, really.... down to the smallest detail, but I have to admit... God, your cock is one of my favorite things" your tone of voice interspersed with a moan made Leon sigh, the sound was heavy and husky, and you even saw his length startle gently. Your mouth watered, you felt your body go into desperation from the desire to drown with him.
"You're going to fucking make me explode..." Leon moaned, throwing your head back, bumping against the back of the couch as he lifted your hips in desperation and impatience. Your soft and playful giggle made him curse under his breath, your fingers running along his veins that bulged through the stain on his boxers which you soon undid, and he helped you as fast as he had the chance. You licked from his base to his glans, red, wet and dripping. You gave soft kisses, loving that part of him that always made you feel full, complete. It was that part of Leon that reminded you that he was a man, that he could protect you, but that he could make you tremble until you couldn't stand it anymore.
"Do you want me to squeeze you, daddy?" you sucked on his tip like your favorite popsicle, moaning as your hands cradled his balls and fondled them, they felt hot and heavy, and your insides contracted into nothingness itself imagining the amount of milk you would have to milk for him later. "This dick is only mine, isn't it? Only your pretty daughter's" the saliva barely let you speak, because your head bobbed up and down on the hot, wet flesh, blessing it with your tight throat.
"Only yours, baby, no one else's" Leon moaned, his hands itching from not being able to grab you by the head and plunge you deeper onto his fucking cock, to make it even clearer to you "My cock only cums for you, love, fuck, I just want to fuck you until you pass out" he gave a gentle lunge as his tone of voice shook as if he had run a marathon for hours, and the throbbing of his cock in the hollowness of your cheeks only made you smile wider.
You pulled away and wiped the saliva and precum from the corner of your lips savoring your stepfather's arousal "Sometimes you act like I'm not the only one, and that makes me feel bad" a soft pout played on your lips as you looked at them with sorrow, real sorrow. Ruined and sweaty with his bangs sticking to his forehead as he struggled not to send everything to shit and masturbate looking at your pretty body in front of him. "C'mon, Leon, show me that your cock is only mine and nothing else" you whispered, a secret between the two of you, and before you could finish the sentence your shorts disappeared from your legs and your chest stuck to the couch. You moaned as Leon's hands didn't know where to start, they didn't know whether to rip your shirt off, whether to touch your tits, he didn't know what the fuck to do. He was an animal desperate to make you his in a thousand possible ways.
Before your head could understand what had happened because of that sudden change, the martyrizing emptiness of just a few moments ago disappeared. The silence and tension was immediately cut off with a moan from Leon and you in unison and a thrust caused your legs to falter. He had to hold you from your waist to keep you from collapsing, causing your back to crash against his chest, tearing your throat into a moan as he pulled out completely and thrust back in "My cock is made to go in your fucking pussy” he growled from deep in his chest “Damn, you always let me fuck you so good, brat" his words sounded harsh against your ear as he buried his face in the crook of your neck sinking into your messy falling hair, breathing in that sweet scent that warmed him so much.
Lunge after lunge your body bounced, your shirt was gone from your body and his hands squeezed your tits as you gasped heavily “Dad-... Fuck! Yes!" slammed against your spot, against that button that gave him the power to fuck you any way he wanted. And there you were, on all fours like a fucking bitch in heat moaning so loud that anyone passing in front of the house would worry about what was going on inside.
Before he could increase the speed of his onslaught, you broke free of his grip and, much to your dismay, pulled his cock out of you. The sticky sound stopped for a few seconds but Leon didn't even have a moment to ask what was going on, before you spoke "Just... sit..." you could almost hear him object to this, but you were so high on his scent that you still felt his hands squeezing your hips and the sensation of your empty entrance was driving you crazy "Just, sit, please" you whimpered and turned around, trying not to fall. He closed his mouth and sat down.
Oh, for the love of God.
He looked so... you didn't know what, but him, with his thighs open, his shirt off revealing his chest rising and falling in the frenzy of the moment and his cock jerking desperate for a place to bury itself. So desperate to bury itself in you. And you were in no position to deny him; it was easy for you to climb on top of him -who was quick to hold your body in his hands- and line his cock up at your entrance, gently penetrating yourself. Leon's eyes narrowed and his mouth stretched into a grimace as he hissed, and you in your disconnected state couldn't help but melt at that image, the lines of expression at the side of his mouth, his jaw contracting and relaxing as the two of you became connected once more.
Connection intermingled with a constant back and forth of sensations, you jumped on top of him as you sought his lips, dizzy from the constant twinges that swirled in your belly down to your throbbing core "Mhm, mine, you're mine" you moaned into his mouth, you held his chin in your left hand as the sound of your ass slapping against his thighs echoed through the house joining his grunts and his saliva as he sucked on your tits, sucking on your nipples with no thought of the marks he would leave on you later.
"Yours, ‘m fuckin’ yours" his pelvis lifted and penetrated even harder, you could feel the head of his cock give into your stomach, he ravaged your womb each time his hips lifted and ground against your sweet spot, stealing moans from you uncontrollably. His hand squeezed your hip and as you felt the frenetic thrusts you could feel how he was only a few more strokes away from exploding in you. He looked like a child clinging to his favorite stuffed animal, hugging you tightly as he buried his face in your tits but at the same time fucking you with a force that you knew sooner or later would make it difficult for you to walk.
You wanted to go on, you needed to go on, but you didn't know at what moment -nor how, without needing to touch yourself- you were spilling all over the cock of your stepfather, of the man who opened his arms to you in a brotherly way every time you needed him. But there you were, getting him all wet as drops trickled down your thighs and stained the couch a little. The overstimulation was getting too much, you felt ruined and before you could moan again Leon filled you with his creamy seed without being able to help it. He didn't come out and cum on your face, tits or abdomen, no, he let all that tension and despair fill you. He didn't want to fight you again, he wanted to be inside you more than anything else, and filling you, letting you squeeze him until he squeezed out the last drop, was a sign of his desperation "I..." he gasped and crushed himself more and more slowly against your entrance already without strength, just to not let anything escape -which was impossible, he really had a lot to get out- "I really love you" he sighed, without stopping hugging you. You wanted to respond and say that you too, that you loved him madly, that you would give up everything to be able to wake up next to him every morning. But your body could only lie down on the couch and open your arms, offering him your warmth. You needed to give him your warmth before you became conscious again.
It was probably very late at night, and both Leon and you were on the couch resting your devastated bodies. You had that man, as intimidating as he could often be, lying on your chest sleeping peacefully. His heavy breathing made you understand that he was in a deep and undisturbed sleep, and that only made your heart squeeze. You knew he could be very stiff and tense, always alert, but having him asleep between your legs while allowing you to caress him and stroke his hair so naturally, made you feel love.
Love.
It was specific to feel that. You loved loving Leon, in all his ways. You loved when he put aside the paperwork to take you to your favorite coffee shop, when on his missions he remembered you and brought you a present -you loved that brown teddy bear he brought you from San Francisco-, or when you felt overwhelmed by college and he helped you study by sitting for hours to listen to you tell him everything you knew. Maybe it was your silly, lovesick girl imagination, but you saw that love in his eyes, a mixture of brotherly pride and... maybe something else. Something else you could feel it when they have sex, when just sleepily fuck in the mornings when your mother is not around, and you feel how he penetrates you as if you were going to break and he just wants to stay there, inside you, just to make sure everything is all right.
You closed your eyes and sighed. That would be the last night.
Sure, you had said that two nights ago, maybe a month ago... maybe two... but you couldn't help it. You couldn't help it if the hugs weren't enough, if his kisses left you wanting more. You were weak, weak before him. And he didn't have the strength to say no to you, he had tried a thousand times, but he would melt for you, he would kill himself for you.
You closed your eyes.
You would just forget that feeling for one more night and sink into his warmth. You didn't want to have to decide, not so soon. You just wanted to keep loving him. Just wanted to keep feeling his love.
#leon kennedy fluff#leon kennedy resident evil#leon death island#leon kennedy#leon re4#leon kennedy headcanons#leon resident evil#resident evil fluff#resident evil vendetta#leon kennedy smut#leon re2#leon s kennedy#resident evil leon#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy x you#leon scott kennedy#leon smut#leon x reader#re4 leon#re4r leon#vendetta leon#resident evil 4#resident evil 6#resident evil#resident evil death island#resident evil fanfiction#resident evil x reader#re2leon#re2 remake#re3 remake
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32 with Lucy, but completely platonic? so where r is a younger player that just needs some support and Lucy wants to help
nws if you don’t want to do platonic stuff :)
"Why won't you let me in?"
Lucy Bronze x reader (platonic)
warnings: homesickness
summary: You feel homesick after moving to Barcelona
Barcelona had been your dream club since you first started playing football. You grew up wearing the jerseys and watching as many games as you could. That was why, as soon as you received an offer from them, you said yes immediately. You knew leaving Arsenal and saying goodbye to all your teammates would be incredibly difficult, but you could not turn down an offer from Barcelona.
You felt fine the first couple of weeks after you left your home country of England. It had almost felt like going off to another tournament and that you would be back soon. However, after two months, the novelty started to wear off, and you began to feel homesick. You didn't want to worry any of your teammates, especially your English teammates, who you knew would be very concerned if they knew how you were feeling. Lucy had always sort of taken you under her wing, and she did no different at Barcelona. However, now that she was in a newer relationship with Ona, she spent less time with you than she would have liked, and you didn't want to feel like a burden to her.
You had just approached the training grounds in your club-provided car, ready to make your way into training, but you didn't have your usual enthusiasm and energy. Once you stepped onto the grounds, you realized Lucy had been waiting for you by the door, which made you smile a little bit.
"Hey kid, you ready for another day of me running circles around you?" Lucy ruffled your hair a bit as you led the way to the locker room.
"You wish you could keep up with me; you're practically ancient at this point." You opened the locker room door as a bunch of teammates turned to greet you.
"You are getting older, amor; you can't keep up with us younger ones anymore," Ona said as she came and kissed Lucy on the cheek. Lucy playfully frowned but allowed Ona to pull her towards her cubby to get ready. Just like that, you were back to being alone in your thoughts and feeling homesick. You wanted to text Leah, but you didn't want to bother her, knowing she was busy with her own recovery and training, so you kept all your emotions bottled inside.
Throughout training, your teammates were confused why you weren't acting like yourself. Normally, you were off joking with Pina and Patri or getting babied by Ale or Lucy, but instead, you mostly kept to yourself, even partnering up with Ingrid, which Mapi wasn't happy about because you knew she wouldn't ask you any questions.
"You okay, kid? You're not getting sick or anything, are you? You seem exhausted and stuff," Lucy asked as she approached you with a water bottle during a break in training.
"All good, just thinking about how many times I'm going to nutmeg you during the next drill." Lucy gave you a look after you said this, like she knew you were lying, but before she could respond, Ale called out to you, claiming she wanted you on her team for the 5v5.
The rest of practice, Lucy kept an eye on you, realizing more and more how weird you were acting, even saying no to Mapi asking to take you to get ice cream after practice, which you had never done before. She continued to not-so-subtly ask you questions about what's wrong, including if you had gotten enough sleep or if someone had broken up with you, although she had told you that you weren't allowed to date for another ten years anyway. You kept brushing her questions off, claiming that you just needed a nap when you got home, not wanting her to see you break down or be vulnerable, especially in front of the whole team.
Practice had finally ended, and you were thankful you had avoided the questions well enough for Lucy not to drag you back to her apartment, although she knew you didn't like going over there anyway after you caught her and Ona doing not-so-child-friendly things on the couch. You had just packed up all your things, ready to make a beeline to your car and go home so you could finally cry and let all your emotions out and then hopefully take a nap. Just as you were about to grab the last of your things from your cubby to head to your car, you got an Instagram notification. Leah had posted a selfie with a couple of your old Arsenal teammates with the caption "Best teammates in the world. Love playing alongside you guys every day." Normally, you would like it and think it's cute and message Leah about how she was so soft and cheesy, but today it was your final straw.
Your face dropped immediately, and you don't know why, but you bolted out of the room until you got to a secluded hallway where you thought no one would find you, and you just broke down. Sobs racked your body as you wanted nothing more than to be back in your home country with your childhood team. You knew the language, you knew the people, everything was easy and predictable. What you didn't know is that Lucy saw the entire thing from how your face dropped to how you had sprinted out the door. She quickly followed you, knowing you shouldn't be alone right now.
What she saw when she found you broke her heart. She had never seen you look so small and dejected. You were sniffling, now curled in on yourself and slightly rocking.
You glanced up, startled by her sudden presence.
As Lucy approached you, she could see the frustration etched on your face, the weight of uncertainty heavy in your eyes. She stopped in front of you, noticing the way you seemed to be wrestling with something internally.
"Talk to me, bubs," Lucy whispered as she sat down next to you and started to rub your back lightly, something she knew comforted you greatly.
"It's nothing, I'm okay. I think I just need a good nap."
"This is clearly not nothing. You know I won't judge you for anything you say. Do you want me to call Leah?" Lucy said as she continued to rub your back soothingly.
"No, please don't bother her, seriously. It's really not that big of a deal, and you know how worried she gets."
Lucy could sense your reluctance to open up, but she wasn't about to let you push her away. She knew you needed someone to lean on, even if you didn't realize it yourself.
"Hey, it's okay to not be okay," Lucy said gently, her voice filled with understanding. "You don't have to carry this burden alone. We're teammates, we're friends, and we're here for each other."
You continued to just sit there and shake your head, thinking Lucy will just think less of you if she knew you were making all this fuss over just being homesick.
"Why won't you let me in, bubs? It's just me. Let me help you. I'll even come to your apartment, and you can beat me at Mario Kart again." You let out a soft chuckle at this, which made Lucy relax a little bit.
"I... I don't know if I can do this," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'm new here, and I just... I feel like I'm drowning, like I don't belong."
"I'm homesick, and all this change was new and exciting at first, but I miss home."
"Oh, bubs, why didn't you say anything sooner? It's completely okay to feel homesick. Barcelona can be a lot. There are so many new people, two new languages, a new style of play. It's completely normal to miss all the things that feel normal and familiar."
"How about this," Lucy continued, her tone gentle yet determined. "I'll call Keira, and she can meet us at your apartment. We'll cook a full English meal, and we can even Facetime Leah and Georgia. We'll have a Lionesses night, just like old times. How does that sound?"
A sense of relief washed over you, knowing that Lucy was there to support you through the tough moments. You nodded gratefully, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips.
"Incredible," you whispered, gratitude swelling within you. "Thank you, Lucy. For everything."
With Lucy by your side, ready to help you navigate the challenges of adapting to a new life in Barcelona, you finally felt a glimmer of optimism for the future. And as you leaned into her comforting embrace, you knew that no matter how far from home you were, you had found a true friend in Lucy.
#lucy bronze#lucy bronze x reader#lucy bronze imagine#woso#fcb femení#woso x reader#fcb femení x reader#fc barcelona femeni#keira walsh#alexia putellas#mapi leon#leah williamson
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