#and let the three of them project their vision | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

stllmnstr · 2 months ago

Text

all the things I never said

pairing: lee heeseung x f reader

genre: childhood friends to lovers

word count: 7.3k

warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption, heeseung is so romantic I want to die a little, a kiss that gets quite heated, this is very much unedited

note: happy (almost) Heeseung day! I hope you enjoy this little romantic take on childhood friends to lovers ♡

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖

Lee Heeseung has a secret.

It’s scribbled on a forgotten note, tucked away in a bottom drawer, carved with a shaky hand into the aging wood of his childhood treehouse.

Sometimes, on cloudless nights, he looks up at the stars and tells them what he’s been hiding for so long. In response, the midnight sky twinkles in a way that looks all too much like laughter.

On afternoons in late autumn, Heeseung whispers the truth to the wind and watches as it’s carried away with an array of dead leaves.

A million little gestures. A thousand tiny moments that are inconsequential on their own. But when pieced together, string a story so obvious he’s not sure if his heart could ever handle it.

But he’s not sure what would happen, if he shouted at the top of his lungs instead of confiding the world around him in hushed whispers.

He’s a firm believer in balance and is terribly afraid that letting words drip from his tongue would only spell disaster.

So for now, he lets Mother Nature serve as his only confidant and hopes that she’ll keep her vows of silence.

There was a time, not all too long ago, when his secret wasn’t, well, a secret. When he used to speak freely and honestly without a fear of the future, without anxiety of repercussions.

But all secrets have their reasons, and all stories have a beginning.

For Heeseung, both begin on a rather ordinary afternoon in early summer nearly twelve years ago.

…

Heeseung’s right palm is annoyingly sweaty. So much so that the shaky grip on his pencil is in danger of being lost.

Half of his attention is directed towards the front of the classroom, where his fourth grade teacher reiterates the guidelines for the upcoming solar system project.

The other half is trained directly on the small white note currently clutched between Mina’s fingers.

Even at nine, Heeseung knows she’s a terrible gossip that can’t be trusted. Just earlier today, she spent all of morning recess hounding poor Jake about his supposed crush on her best friend. She was unrelenting, no matter how fervently Jake denied the accusation or how crimson his cheekbones turned.

Unfortunately for Heeseung, she also sits directly between you and him. A particular stroke of cruelty on Mrs. Kim’s part, in Heeseung’s opinion, but the desk arrangement of his fourth grade classroom is the least for his worries at this point.

He swallows. A bead of sweat forms at the edge of his hairline. Late May has tumbled into his hometown with an unseasonable warmth, but that’s not the reason for his perspiration this afternoon.

With an audible swallow, he locates the paper in his peripheral vision.

Still clutched between Mina’s fingers.

Mrs. Kim has turned her back at least three times since he handed the note off with very clear directions about who to give it to. There’s no reason Mina should still be turning it over between her sticky fingers.

Unless…

No. Heeseung won’t assume the worst. Not when it took him nearly the entire school year to work up the courage.

With one final repetition of the project due date, Mrs. Kim slides off of her chair at the front of the room and walks to her desk tucked away in the opposite corner.

Heeseung’s heart skips a beat.

It’s the perfect opportunity, a golden window.

He glances at Mina, half terrified, half excited.

This is it. The moment he’s been waiting for. The moment he’s been mustering up courage for over the past six months.

He’s doing it. It’s happening. It’s really happening.

And then, all at once, his excitement starts to transform. Starts to turn into dread before it morphs into worry.

“Uh, Mrs. Kim?” It’s Mina’s voice. And Heeseung knew she liked to spread rumors, but he didn’t think that would extend to their teacher.

Heeseung is panicking, trying to figure out a way to save face, to avoid the detention that is sure to come with the classroom crime of passing notes.

Mrs. Kim looks up from her desk. Heeseung thinks he might pass out.

But then Mina says, “I don’t think ___ feels too good.”

For a moment, Heeseung basks in the relief of not having his secrets spilled in the middle of silent work time. But then, the words register. Form meaning in his mind.

The loud screech of metal against linoleum rings out like a gunshot in the otherwise quiet classroom. Heeseung stands up from his seat with a ridiculous speech. It’s a miracle he didn’t know anything off his desk. And he didn’t mean to, not really, but he couldn’t see you around Mina sitting down.

At first glance, her appraisal seems to be correct. You’re pale, terribly so, and shaking slightly where you sit in your seat.

Heeseung doesn’t realize his mistake until Mrs. Kim turns to look at him with a raised eyebrow and most of the class does the same.

In the back corner, Jake and Sunghoon share a meaningful glance.

“Uh,” Heeseung stammers, “Sorry.” Red faced, he takes his seat again. This time, he’s more covert as he turns his gaze back to you.

Mrs. Kim approaches your desk quickly. “Hi, Sweetie,” she greets in that voice she has reserved for scraped knees and other ailments. “Are you feeling okay?”

You shake your head. It’s a minuscule movement that Heeseung tracks intensely.

Mrs. Kim lays a gentle hand across your forehead. “You’re burning up.” She frowns. “Why don’t you head down to the nurse? I’ll let her know you’re on your way.”

Again, you say nothing. The only response you give is a small nod as you gather the materials sprawled across your desk.

Heeseung watches, a little pathetically, as you place them carefully in your cubby before leaving through the door.

You do turn to look at him, just before you exit. When you find his eyes already trained on you, you give him a small smile.

Heeseung’s heart clenches. Whether in fear or anxiety or the same funny feeling that made him spill his heart in the note, he’s not entirely sure.

And then you’re gone. Heeseung makes a mental note to check in with you later, ride his bike the short distance between your neighborhoods and knock on your front door. Your mother is no stranger to his appearances at this point, after all. He won’t bug you, not if you’re resting. But he’ll check in on you, maybe bring you some tea or soup or flowers or whatever else grown ups always say is supposed to make you feel better when you’re sick.

He’s so caught up in his sudden afternoon plans that he almost forgets the paper, the note, still sitting between Mina’s fingers.

Oh well.

He’ll have to try another day, he supposes. It’s not fair to put anything else on your plate when you’re not feeling well.

Heeseung shifts in his seat, turns to ask Mina to just give him the note back. To his horror, she’s already begun to undo his careful folding. The kind of edges only someone who spends long afternoons doing origami with his grandmother could manage.

“What are you doing?” Heeseung hisses, trying to shout without breaking a whisper.

Mina pays him no mind, swats the air like he’s nothing more than a buzzing fly.

“Stop,” Heeseung pleads, “That’s not for y–”

But Mina doesn’t care. Much to his horror, she unfolds the note entirely, leaves it tucked discreetly beneath her desk.

Sparing one final glance at Mrs. Kim, she confirms that her attention is elsewhere. And then she reads it.

It’s unmistakable, the way her eyes scan over words that were never meant for her.

Heeseung has half a mind to cause another scene, stand up out of his seat again and snatch the note from her, detention be damned.

But it’s too late. The damage is done.

Mina turns to face him fully, a quizzical look pulling her brow downwards. She stares at him, eyes narrowed, appraising, as if this is the first time she’s seen him.

And then she folds the note back up, tucks it away underneath her notebook.

A million awful scenarios flash through Heeseung’s mind. Mina making copies of the note and distributing them to the entire class. Mina taking the note to Mrs. Kim and ratting him out. Mina making sure the entire school is privy to Heeseung’s secret before the day is done.

But in the end, he doesn’t need to worry about any of that. After an agonizing stretch of silent work time where Heeseung gets absolutely nothing done, Mina finds him outside the classroom at the water fountain.

Heeseung is in the middle of downing a near concerning amount of lukewarm fountain water when she walks up next to him.

Lifting his head, Heeseung wipes the spare drops from his mouth.

“Here,” Mina hands him the note. She tried to fold it back up, but it was clearly done with inexperienced hands. The lines are no longer crisp, the edges no longer sharp. His work has been tainted.

“I…” Heeseung starts. Should he thank her? Beg her not to tell anyone? Plead with her not to tell you?

Ultimately, he doesn’t need to. Mina cuts him off before he can get another word out.

“Don’t worry. I’m not gonna tell anyone.”

Heeseung will believe it when he sees it, but maybe, just maybe, Mina will actually keep a secret to herself this time.

Heeseung exhales a sigh of relief, tension draining from his shoulders. The victory is short lived.

“You shouldn’t give that to her, though.”

Heeseung balks, freezing for a moment. “What?”

“That note.” Mina nods towards the item in question, clutched between Heeseung’s white knuckles. “Don’t give it to ___.”

Heeseung’s brow furrows. He can’t decide whether he should be angry or confused. This was never meant to be something for Mina to pass judgment on. If he wanted her two cents, he would have asked.

Still, he asks, “Why?”

Mina sighs, looks at him like he’s an orphaned panda in the local zoo. “Because she likes Jay, not you. Everyone knows about it. She gave him a Kit Kat on Valentine’s Day when everyone else just got a Hershey Kiss, and everyone knows that Kit Kats are better. Plus, she–”

Heeseung doesn’t hear the rest of it. It’s as if he’s suddenly been submerged in icy water. Frozen in his body as the world around him is muffled to a dull, indecipherable hum. His heart drops to his stomach; the world spins on its axis.

Jay.

Jay?

Heeseung likes Jay. He’s smart and kind and can play the guitar, which Heeseung can’t deny is incredibly cool. Too cool. So, painfully cool, and you must think so too.

Heeseung wants to cry a little bit. Wants to scream. Wants to eat his feelings and his words and his incomplete confession until there’s nothing left of them and this whole terrible day is nothing but a faded, forgotten memory.

Instead, he turns away from Mina mid-sentence and takes robotic steps back into the classroom. Slides down into his seat like he’s in a trance. Finished out the school day with his head in the clouds.

You don’t return to class. Heeseung assumes that you went home straight from the nurse’s office.

And when Mrs. Kim catches him at the door and asks if he’d be willing to bring your backpack to you, all he can do is give a miserable, dejected nod.

Mrs. Kim has the tact to not say anything, but she does notice. Especially since he’s usually jumping out of his seat at the opportunity to do anything remotely revolving you.

She watches with a frown as he exits through the classroom door, head hung and shoulders slumped. Your backpack dangling uselessly between his fingers.

The air outside is warm, uncharacteristically so for late May. But now it’s choking with something too. A humidity that clings to skin and feels foreboding, especially with the way clouds begin to gather overhead.

Heeseung is halfway to your house when the rain begins. It’s thick, heavy, unforgiving in the way summer showers always are.

When he dismounts his bike at the edge of your driveway, he’s in such a hurry to get your things to you before they’re soaked through that he doesn't notice the small, white paper that falls out of his pocket with the motion.

Just as he predicted, your mother greets him at the door. She’s thankful for your school things and mildly horrified at the dripping wet child on her doorstep. She offers him a towel and a ride home in her car, both of which Heeseung declines politely.

By the time he finishes the ride home, he is well and truly soaked. He’s grateful, at least, for the way rain disguised the singular tear track that stains his left cheek.

And later than night, dry and warm and alone, he lets one more tear fall. Laying against his pillow, it’s warm where it gathers in the corner of his eye, salty as it breaches the barrier of his top lip.

And then he makes a decision. Despair will do him no good, and it’s not like anything has changed, not really.

It’s you that he values, your presence and your friendship and your smiles. He won’t lose those things, even if you save all your Kit Kats for Jay. Even if he has to banish the butterflies in his stomach and hope they don’t escape. Even if he has to pretend his heart doesn’t hurt a little every time he looks at you.

But summer is coming soon and his year in fourth grade is nearly done. There are lots of things to look forward to, and you’ll still be just a short bike ride away. Even if your heart suddenly feels unreachable.

When Heeseung falls asleep that night, his sleep is dreamless and undisturbed.

And a handful of neighborhoods away, a small white piece of paper sinks to the bottom of a puddle. Soaked from the rain and worse for wear, the careful writing is nearly unintelligible.

But if someone wanted to, if they really tried, they just might be able to make out the message.

Dear ___, it reads.

I think you have the prettiest smile I’ve ever seen. I like the way your hair looks in the sun, and I’m glad we’re in the same class. I couldn’t decide how to tell you, so I think I’ll just write it here. I like you. I think you’re pretty and smart and nice and I like you a lot. Can I buy you ice cream at the shop at the end of your street? We can eat it together. :)

Sinceerly,

Sincerely,

Heeseung

…..

The early afternoon sun glints off the ocean in a way that’s almost blinding. Seated on a faded beach towel that’s more sand than fabric at this point, Heeseung readjusts his sunglasses. They sit on the bridge of his nose and do less to shield his wandering gaze than he thinks.

He reaches for the tote bag a few feet away from him, hands in search of the extra strength sunscreen his mom packed two bottles of and reminded him no less than fifty times to reapply. Heeseung figures now’s as good a time as any to follow her instructions. He’s half afraid she’ll actually wring his neck if he comes back sunburnt with his first day of eighth grade just around the corner.

Besides, the current object of his attention is down at the water’s edge. Heeseung thanks his lucky stars you’re too preoccupied with searching for seashells to watch as he slathers a ridiculously high SPF sunscreen all over his face.

Early August has been milder than late July, but the air is still heavy with a heat that’s almost oppressive. He has half a mind to join you in the water for a reprieve from the weather if nothing else.

Despite himself, Heeseung’s eyes never stray far from you. Disaster of a fourth-grade confession aside, he likes to think he’s done a decent job of keeping his feelings close to his chest. Not that they’ve ever changed much, to be honest.

He’s old enough now, far enough into the painfully awkward clutches of puberty to put more words to the way his heart always feels a little funny whenever you’re near.

He has a crush.

A high school, sweaty palm, awkward conversations at your locker between periods crush.

But Heeseung is a master of disguise and this is no exception. For the last six years, he’s held up his side of your steady friendship with nothing outside the realm of platonic.

Even if his gaze always tends to linger a little too long, even if he spends most of every middle school dance standing on the sidelines imaging you asking him to join you, even if he never has quite been able to look at Jay the same way, he’s happy to be your friend. Content in the comfortable routines between the two of you. The easy kind of closeness that comes with growing up with someone.

For better or for worse, he knows you like the back of his hand. And you know him just as well. Besides the one secret he never can quite bring himself to divulge, that is.

On a towel a few feet away, Sunghoon glances at Heeseung. Follows his gaze and is less than surprised to find that his lovesick puppy eyes are trained squarely on your shoulders.

Sunghoon nudges Jake, wordlessly gesturing to Heeseung with a jerk of his chin. Jake follows the movement, traces the same line of sight Sunghoon noticed just moments ago.

The two boys share a look and then an eye roll.

It’s been the same old story since their shared days in Mrs. Kim’s fourth grade class, and Sunghoon is growing weary of witnessing this same old song and dance never reach any kind of conclusion.

Sunghoon clears his throat. Heeseung doesn’t notice.

A bit louder this time, Sunghoon says, “Hey, Heeseung.”

That finally gets his attention, even if it does take him a comically long time to take his eyes off of you. “Yeah?”

“You could, oh, I don’t know, just talk to her, you know.”

“What?” Sunghoon can’t tell if his confusion is genuine or if he’s suddenly become a fantastic actor. “Who?”

“Is that a joke? ___. Who else?”

Heeseung’s brow furrows. “___?” He echoes. “I talk to her all the time. I invited her today.”

“Yeah, okay, but I mean really talk to her.”

“I don’t know how you think we communicate, but I did ‘really talk to her’ when I asked if she wanted to come to the beach t–”

Jake sighs. He’s not sure how much more of this he can take. “He’s saying you should tell her that you like her, idiot.”

“What?” Heeseung splutters. “I don’t… I don’t like ____,” he insists in a way that is not at all convincing.

“Right,” Sunghoon nods. “And I’m going to pass algebra with an A next semester.”

“We’re friends.” Despite himself, Heeseung glances at you again out of the corner of his eye. His stomach gives a very unfriendly flip, but the two boys next to him don’t need to know that.

“I don’t get why you’re still so weird about it.” Sunghoon shakes his head. “You’ve literally been obsessed with her since, like, fourth grade.”

“Yeah,” Jake nods. “Remember that day she got sick in class and he nearly knocked his chair over because he stood up so fast—”

“I was worried about my friend,” Heeseung insists, desperate to change the topic. That day is a particularly sore memory for more than one reason. “I would have done the same for either of you.”

“Uh, no thanks.” Sunghoon shakes his head.

“I’ll pass too,” Jake agrees. “You can save all that lovesick shit for—”

“Lovesick?” a voice interrupts. “Who’s lovesick?”

Three sets of eyes turn to you, two colored in mild humor and one tinged with abject horror.

Sunghoon reaches over with devious intent in his grin. Patting Heeseung on the shoulder, he responds, “Well, your friend Heeseung here—”

“Heard Jungwon talking about a new girl he met this summer.” Heeseung interjects desperately, pausing only to send his two friends a withering glare. “I guess he’s super into her.”

“Oh, really?” Oblivious to the sighs of frustration Sunghoon and Jake exchange, you slide down in the seat next to Heeseung. “Good for him. Between school and dance and taekwondo, I thought he’d always be too busy to meet someone.”

Nudging the boy next to you, you add, “Kinda like someone else I know. I’m surprised you had time for the beach today with basketball starting so soon.”

In all honesty, he doesn’t. Heeseung should be at the court near his house right now, practicing layups. At the very least, he should be going for a run or getting some pre-season cardio in.

But you’ve been mentioning wanting to go on one last trip to the beach before the school year starts for weeks now, and Heeseung has never been good at denying you much. Well, other than access to his real feelings, that is.

Feigning a nonchalance he doesn’t feel, Heeseung shrugs. “I can take a day off every now and then.”

“Oh, really?” You arch a brow. Because I heard that a certain someone asked you to the movies last week and you said you were too busy,”

For you. Heeseung should have clarified. I can take a day off for you.

“What?” Sunghoon pipes up. “Who?”

“No one,” Heeseung grumbles.

Rolling your eyes, you lean over him, angling your face towards Sunghoon conspiratorially. “Her name rhymes with Schmarina.”

“Dude!” This time, it’s Jake who slaps him on the shoulder. “Karina asked you out and you said no? Are you stupid?”

“No,” Heeseung protests. “She didn’t even ask me out. It wasn’t like that.”

“Mhmm.” Sarcasm drips from your voice. “That’s not what Mina said.”

That absolute gossip. “RIght, because you can always trust what Mina says.”

“Sunoo confirmed it too.”

“He’s just as bad!”

“Okay, okay.” You raise your hands in mock surrender. “I’ll drop it. But if she does ever ask you out, I think you should say yes.”

Heeseung forces his features into neutrality. Tries to conceal the fact that your words feel a little bit like a thousand knives stabbing him right in the heart. Ends up looking a little bit constipated.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you admonish. “She’s really sweet.”

Heeseung’s sure she is. He just doesn’t care. Karina could be the kindest, nicest, sweetest girl on planet earth and he would still find a reason to let her down gently. But he can’t exactly tell you that, not when it would only lead to more questions that he is not ready to answer.

Instead, he just shrugs again. A non response. A hopeful end to the conversation.

Luckily, you take his silence as a sign to divert, even if Jake and Sunghoon are still sitting flabbergasted right next to the two of you.

“Speaking of basketball,” you redirect the subject. “I heard that East High’s team is supposed to be really strong this year.” They’re your high school’s biggest rival and the primary reason Heeseung spends so much of his free time on the court. They’re also the reason his coach is already giving speeches about the importance of winning this year’s opening game.

“I figured you might need a little extra luck.”

Sunghoon chokes on a laugh. “C’mon, ____. Cut him some slack. He’s not that bad at basketball.”

“What?” You frown. “No, that’s not what I meant.” Turning back to Heeseung, you clarify. “I promise it’s not. I know you’re, like, insanely good. I just…” You trail off. Heeseung is too busy trying not to explode from the compliment to notice the way your cheeks go slightly pink. “I just saw this when I was down at the water.”

Hastily, you shove your outstretched palm beneath his nose. Encased in your hand is a fully intact, unblemished, perfectly round sand dollar. “It’s supposed to be good luck to find them unbroken,” you explain. “It made me think of you. Uh, I mean, of basketball,” you’re quick to amend.

“Right,” Heeseung can barely hear you over the thrumming of his heartbeat in his ears. “For basketball.”

“For basketball,” you nod.

But when his fingers accidentally brush the skin of your palm as he accepts your good luck charm, basketball is the last thing on his mind.

And when he tucks the sand dollar into the bottom drawer of his dresser for safekeeping later that night, he finally lets the giant, unrestrained smile he’s been holding in all day take over his entire face.

…..

Heeseung’s head is spinning.

And maybe it’s the late summer heat or dregs of the too sweet wine cooler that are getting to him. But neither of those have the ability to fuck with him as much of the sight of you in a sundress does.

A sundress. A real, proper, flowy, honest to god sundress.

Heeseung doesn’t think he’s ever felt more insane in his life.

It doesn’t help that this is the first time he’s seen you in months. Going from classmates to students at different universities has been a difficult transition to say the least. But your friendship has weathered a lot, and this is no exception.

It doesn’t matter that the thoughts Heeseung is having right now are very much not friendly. He’s been dealing with those for the better part of a decade too.

But it feels different tonight.

You’re older. He’s older. The two of you have grown and changed and matured and the feelings he harbors have started to feel a little less like a crush.

And a lot more like something with far more devastating consequences.

You’ve always been pretty. The prettiest girl in the world in his eyes.

But tonight, in the fading glow of another late sunset, looking at you is almost painful.

Heeseung wishes for a lot of things. He wishes it was just the two of you here. Mostly because he can see Sunghoon and Jake making vulgar gestures in the background every time his gaze lingers on you a little too long. And that happens a lot.

He wishes that he was a better friend. That he could give you the support and undivided attention and platonic love that you deserve. That he wasn’t always keeping it guarded behind his fear of revealing too much. Of ruining the best relationship he’s even built in his nineteen years of life.

And sometimes, in his weaker moments, he wishes that he could go back to the fourth grade. He would tell Mina to give her opinion to someone that asked for it and give you that letter. He wonders if things would be different. How they would be different.

In his favorite dreams, you returned his feelings, even back then. The two of you grew up skirting that line the way teenagers do. And then, when you were ready, it turned into something real. Something honest. Something he doesn’t have to hide.

But in his moments of fear, Mina was right. Your attention was somewhere else and his note becomes nothing but an embarrassing memory. Something the two of you never overcome. Something that prevents you from forming friendship at all.

That, Heeseung decides, no matter how much he might sometimes wish thing were different, will never be worth the risk.

So he does what he always does. He keeps his feelings close to his chest and nurses another warm beer along with a wounded heart.

Across the yard, Heeseung watches you laugh at something Jay says. It’s real laugh, the kind that makes your eyes twinkle and makes his head spin.

Jay. He can’t help the way his grip tightens against the bottle in his hand. Who even invited him tonight?

It’s not like anything ever came of Mina’s prediction. As far as he knows, you’ve never so much as given Jay another Kit Kat. But the sight of the two of you together still has an ugly green monster rearing its head.

Eventually, the evening, as all evenings do, starts to draw to its inevitable end.

You catch Heeseung’s eye across the yard just as everyone is bidding their farewells. Silently, you jerk your chin, motioning him over.

Putty in your grip, Heeseung complies with no trace of resistance.

When he finally reaches you, you don’t offer much of an explanation. Instead, you just motion for him to follow you again.

“For old time’s sake,” is all you say.

But it’s not much of a hint. After all, the two of you have memories scattered across this entire city. Tucked in alleys and street corners and shops. Safekept in all of your favorite childhood destinations. Forged in Heeseung’s memory.

Finally, the two of you reach the edge of a small stretch of forest. A place the two of you used to visit whenever the rest of the world just felt like a little too much to bear. A place where you discovered the small treehouse you lead him to now.

Wordlessly, you outstretch your hand, encasing his grip in your own. Heeseung has already begun to lose remnants of his boyhood. His features are losing their youthful roundess, are sharpening into a face that unmistakably belongs to a man.

But with his hand in yours, he feels nine again. Nursing the unsteady heartbeat and sweaty palms that come with a first crush.

When the two of you finally reach the top of the ladder, you ease your way through the opening first.

You’ve nearly outgrown this place. The two of you have to hunch slightly to avoid hitting the roof with your heads.

“Remember coming here that day my cat ran away?” You’re not looking at him, gaze wandering around the space, collecting memories like souvenirs.

“Mr. Mittens,” Heeseung nods. “How could I forget?”

“I still think he’s out there somewhere. He couldn’t forgive my dad when he stopped giving him table scraps.” Your tone is light, teasing.

But the space is small and it leaves no choice but for the two of you to sit close. So close. Too close. Not nearly close enough.

Still, Heeseung does his best to maintain his composure. “Mm,” he agrees. “I’m sure he’s very happy now. Probably eating leftovers as we speak.”

The conversation drifts into silence. It’s not uncomfortable, but it is charged. Fraught with something Heeseung’s been trying to ignore for the last ten years.

“Heeseung?” Your voice is small. He feels it as much as he hears it.

“Yeah?” He doesn’t mean to sound so breathless, but he can’t help it. Not here. Not now.

“I missed you.”

For a moment, it’s all he can do to stare at you. He missed you too. So much it hurt. But it feels like he’s been missing you for years now. Missing something he’s never allowed himself to ask for.

“I mean, I knew I would.” You drop your gaze now, toying with the hem of your dress. “And I know we still texted and called a lot, but there were so many times when I just wished you were there with me, you know?”

He does. He does.

“Yeah,” Heeseung nods, jaw working. He swallows hard. His voice sounds scraped raw. “I felt the exact same.”

You meet his gaze again. Hold it for a moment. And then another. Heeseung watches as your lips part, chest rising and falling with shallow breaths.

For a second, he thinks you’re about to say something else. But then you shake your head. It’s a tiny movement, barely perceptible. But he sees it. He always does.

Diverting the subject, you ease some of the tension. “Do you have anything sharp?”

“Sharp?” he echoes. “I don’t think so. Why?”

Instead of explaining, you reach for a rock next to your knee. Holding it up, you grin at him. “This should work.”

Scooting closer to the interior wall of the treehouse, you begin your handiwork. After a couple of minutes, you sit back on your heels, satisfied.

“What do you think?” You turn over your shoulder to glance at him.

Heeseung thinks a lot of things. He thinks you’ve never looked more beautiful than you do in this very moment, this exact second. He thinks his heart might actually be beating loud enough for it to be audible. He thinks he’s not going to survive another semester away from you.

He thinks he might be in love.

And when his eyes settle on the wall over your shoulder, he knows he is.

Because there, in the respite of your childhood treehouse, you’ve carved both of your initials into the wood and framed them with a slightly lopsided heart.

It’s messy. It’s imperfect. It’s his favorite thing he’s ever seen. Well, he amends as his gaze slides back to you, it’s his second favorite, maybe.

“It’s perfect,” he tells you.

A handful of minutes later, when you find yourself approaching his doorstep, Heeseung notices the way you suppress a shiver against the slight chill of the gentle night time breeze. For him, it’s the most natural thing in the world to offer you a sweatshirt. Something to keep you warm while he walks you home.

You’re no stranger to the inside of his bedroom, but Heeseung’s heart still jumps regardless. It’s so intimate, the way you navigate his space like it’s your own. The way you sit down on the edge of his bed without thinking anything of it.

“Bottom drawer,” Heeseung nods towards his dresser. He rearranged while packing for his dorm. “I have a few sweatshirts in there. You can take any of them.”

Nodding, you stand from his bed, quiet footsteps tracing a path over to the dresser. But when you open the bottom drawer a moment later, it’s not a sweatshirt you hold in your hands.

“You still have this?” There’s a bit of wonder in your voice. A soft edge that Heeseung would read more into if he wasn’t suddenly panicking.

It’s the sand dollar, he realizes. The one you gave him all those years ago. A good luck charm. Stupid, how could he be so stupid to forget that he left it in that drawer too?

It’s not damning evidence of anything, not really. But it’s late and he’s tired and you’re still in that fucking dress. Logic was never going to be anything but a losing game.

“Of course,” Heeseung admits. “We won every game that season.”

You know. You were there to watch all of them.

“Heeseung?” Something in your tone has all of his attention zeroing in on you. Maybe it’s the strange stroke of timidness. Maybe it’s the fact that you’ve always commanded his focus, even when you’re not trying.

“Yeah?” That breathlessness is back. Heeseung can’t find it in himself to curse it.

You’re still standing across the room from him. The sand dollar enclosed in your gentle grip. When you finally tear your gaze away from it, it’s to look Heeseung in the eye.

“Can I…?” You’re unsure. Shy. Heeseung has seen a whole lot of you, but he has no idea what to do with this.

“Can I try something?” Your teeth are worrying at your bottom lip like the words taste bitter. Like you can’t decide whether you regret them or not.

Heeseung would give you the world if you asked for it, but he knows better.

He’ll play his cards the same way he always has.

“Try what?”

You don’t answer him. Not with words, at least.

Instead, you begin to trace a steady path towards him. The sand dollar is still in your hand. Heeseung’s heart is still in his throat. The hem of your dress brushes gently against the bare expanse of your thigh, just about your knee.

You’re standing right in front of him now. There’s less than a foot of emptiness between you. Heeseung has no idea what to do with that liminal space. He can’t decide whether he should close it or widen it until his brain starts to function again.

“Is this weird?” you whisper.

It is. It is.

“No.”

“Okay,” you nod. You avert your gaze, buying time. “Good.”

He watches your chest rise with an unsteady inhale. Fall with a shaky exhale.

You bend to set the sand dollar down on the floor to the left of you.

And then your hand is on his shoulder. Gripping lightly, like you need the support.

Close. You’re so fucking close.

And with every passing heartbeat, you’re only getting closer.

Without meaning to, Heeseung is screwing his eyes shut.

Later, he’ll regret it. Not committing every possible detail to memory.

But right now, any semblance of logic is lost with the shreds of sanity he’s been dropping at your feet for the past ten years.

With the sureness of a steady thing, you ruin them all in one fell swoop.

And then your lips are on his.

It’s a gentle pressure. Light. No expectations, no demands. No promises or secrets or vows. But the hand on his shoulder is gripping harder now.

And the second Heeseung regains control of his limbs, he mirrors your action. One hand finds the notch at the bottom of your spine and the other pushes hair away from your temple.

You’re gentle, unsure. You’re afraid you’re crossing a foolish boundary, ruining a friendship you cherish.

But Heeseung has been warring with every thought that’s crossed his mind for years, and he can’t find it in himself to be patient now. There’s no hesitation when he pulls you closer. No semblance of restraint when he presses his mouth against yours more firmly, when he swallows the shallow gasp you give him and then begs for more.

Restraint is all he’s ever known but there’s nothing left of it now.

When he feels your lips part against his own, he takes it as an invitation. An opening. An offering he’s only ever been afforded in his favorite dreams.

But this is different. It’s better. You’re real. So fucking tangible and his hands can’t decide where to go next.

They make quick work of tracing your spine, your neck, your collarbone. But he’s greedy and he’s desperate and he wants his hands as full of you as his mind is.

It’s not long before fingers are slipping under the flimsy strap of your dress, forging a path that he follows with his lips.

He hears you sigh, feels the whisper of breath against his hair. And then he hears you whimper.

A long, drawn out plea that sounds all too much like “Heeseung.”

He shudders, all the way down to his toes. And then he’s pulling you backwards, flipping your positioning so that your spine is pressed against the wall of his bedroom.

One hand rests above your shoulder, the other beside your head. He sets his forehead against your own, eyes still screwed shut. His heartbeat races in time with the shallow breath in his chest.

“You have to tell me to stop.” His voice is raw, ragged. “You have to tell me to stop before I fucking lose it.”

“What if I want you to?”

He’s dead. He has to be. Caught in a purgatory of his own making, stuck between a heaven and hell perfectly curated for his ruination.

“We can’t—” You could, and that’s what makes it so impossible.

But for Heeseung, this is the culmination of a decade of repressed feelings. Of fleeting touches and lingering gazes and first crushes and the realization that he’s been carrying love with him before he knew what to call it.

He has no idea what this is for you.

“I have to know what you’re thinking.” It’s barely a whisper. His voice nearly cracks on the last syllable. He doesn’t think he’s ever been more scared in his life.

Quietly, your hand finds the base of his neck. Your fingertips trace his skin, a soothing rhythm that does little to quiet the war in his mind. But it does tether him to the moment, anchors him in the present.

You whisper, and he feels your breath against his swollen lips. “I don’t want to scare you.”

“You won’t,” he shakes his head. It’s a lie. He’s terrified.

“But what if—”

“I’m in love with you.” It was always going to be him that confessed first. It had to be. “I’ve been in love with you since we were nine years old.” It’s like a weight has been lifted off his chest, as if the world around him is a little lighter now. “You won’t scare me.”

You break the contact of your foreheads, and Heeseung misses your touch the second it’s gone. He’s grateful for the hand that still traces gentle circles on the skin of his nape.

You use the distance you’ve created to look him in the eye. Searching for any trace of dishonesty, you find nothing but a long held secret, a well-guarded truth.

“You love me?” You don’t even have to ask. You can see it in his eyes.

“More than you know.”

“Good,” you whisper, an echo from before. “Because I love you.”

When he kisses you this time, it’s softer. Gentler. The urgency in his gut is still there, but it’s been quieted a bit. Replaced with a distinct sort of fondness he does his best to communicate with touch.

Love. He spells it with every breath that spills against your own.

Love. He imbes it into every touch against bare skin.

Love. He whispers it in your ear and shudders when you do the same.

Because that sand dollar isn’t stuck in his bottom drawer anymore, hidden away from the light. It’s here, in the openness of his childhood bedroom. A truth between the two of you.

And when he picks it up again later, he sets it on top of the dresser. Where he and you and anyone else that might pass by can see it.

…..

Lee Heeseung has a secret.

It’s whispered in practice runs with Jake and Sunghoon, imagined on the nights he pulls you closer to him as he drifts off to sleep, hidden away in a small, nondescript black box in the back of his closet.

But Heeseung isn’t nine anymore. He’s not fifteen or nineteen.

He’s twenty-six, and he’s learned a thing or two about secrets.

So this time, he only holds this one for a month, only carries it with him for a handful of weeks before he divulges.

And when he does finally get you right where he wants you, back in that same too small treehouse, his secret spills easily.

Even though his voice is shaky, even though his hands tremble with overflowing nerves.

He can’t drop to one knee, not exactly. And he nearly drops the little black box when he pulls it from his coat pocket.

But the ring slides onto your left hand without a hint of resistance. And the stone flickers in dying daylight like it was meant just for you.

This time, he doesn’t hide behind a note or a sand dollar or even a kiss.

Instead, he looks you in the eye when he tells you loves you.

He smiles, a hopeful thing, when he asks you to marry him.

All the things he never said, every word he never told you, are all here, now.

Every second of torment, every moment of agony suddenly feel brand new.

But when you tell him yes, your eyes shining with unshed tears that match his own, he thinks that they just might have all been worth it.

And when you tell him, for the thousandth time, that you love him, he knows that they were.

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed! I am still working on sacred monsters, but I wanted to put out something cute for Heeseung's birthday and I had a big chunk of this already sitting in my drafts. I mentioned at the beginning, but this is unedited, so please forgive any little mistakes you saw.

all the love ♡

#heeseung fanfic #heeseung x reader #heeseung scenarios #heeseung imagines #heeseung fanfiction #heeseung fluff #enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen x you #enhypen fanfic #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fluff #heeseung x you

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fairysluna · 8 months ago

Note

Hi! Could I please request another threesome with Cregan, reader and Jace. Maybe they get jealous when they see reader with another men and want to teach her a lesson? Thank you and love your blog!

i get drunk on jealousy.

Modern!AU — After they've ignored you for a week, you were desperate to have their attention back. Flirting with a random guy might not be the best idea.

MASTERLIST

PAIRING — Cregan Stark x Fem!Reader x Jacaerys Velaryon.

TAGS — polyrelationship/polyamorous, m/m/f, smut (p in v, clit play, handjob, oral sex, creampie, spitting, cum eating, male on male action), jace x cregan, use of alcohol and drugs, kind of drunk sex, dom!cregan, switch!jace, sub!reader, jealousy, cursing. If something is missing let me know!!

AUTHOR'S NOTE — Don't expect so much of this fic, I saw this picture, I saw a vision, and basically my horniness wrote this by itself. Not my best work, but fuck it, this is just for fun. Also, this made me realize that I'm unable to write dom!Jace if Cregan is there too, oops??? I guess??? NO BETA, WE DIE LIKE MEN.

I took this request as an excuse to write this fic so... thank you for sending it and hope you enjoy this!🤍

WORD COUNT — 3.1k

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤenglish is not my first language.

Most people on Campus knew about your strange relationship with Cregan and Jacaerys. Some guys would often call you a whore behind your back, while some girls would prefer the term ‘lucky bitch’; it was no secret that the both of them were quite known for being handsome and gallant, almost acting like real life prince-charmings. Every girl would drool for them, acknowledging their chivalry and politeness. Of course, they already knew about the attention that they received from the opposite sex, they knew about how many girls would love to be in your position. Which is why they didn't understand why you were so eager to act like a brat.

Jace tapped Cregan's shoulder as he saw you chatting with some random guy that suddenly appeared next to you on the couch. Neither of them had seen him before, he was probably a freshman or someone that sneaked into the party without invitation. Both pairs of eyes were intently staring at you, watching every move you make. They knew you weren't oblivious enough to not see it; he was obviously flirting with you, and you were clearly enjoying every moment of it. Jacaerys, being the most jealous out of the three of you, tightened his grip around his bottle of beer, his fingertips turning white as Cregan turned to look at him.

“Don't do anything stupid,” he warned him. “She'll deal with us later.”

“But look at her!” Jace snapped, his breathing ragged.

“She's doing it to piss us off,” Cregan attempted to calm him down. “She won't do anything with that guy. Just wait until the party's over and we'll take care of it, okay?”

He looked at him, obediently nodding as he took a long sil out of his beer to calm down a bit. Jace forbade himself to turn your way, ignoring your desperate attempt to make them jealous. Cregan, being a lot less hotheaded than Jace, acted nonchalantly toward your attitude, pretending you were doing nothing wrong, even when he wanted to grab your arm and take you right in that couch just to clarify that you belong to them.

Cregan knew your purpose, you both had spoken about it earlier that day after one of your classes together. They both have been ignoring you, neglecting your needs and spending more time alone — without you. At first you didn't mind it, thinking that they were busy with the final exams and their final projects of the semester; however, when you knew they were using all that time to plan this stupid party you got pissed, almost screaming at him in the middle of the campus, frustrated. Now here you were, sitting with a freshman trying to get in your pants, all while they were still ignoring you.

Both guys spent the rest of the night drinking, playing some games with other members of the fraternity and having a blast while you were standing in a corner, alone and bored; your two lovers out of your sight. Perhaps that was why you couldn't see Jace searching for you everytime he could, unable to control the jealousy that had grown within him. He couldn't find you anywhere around, which made his mind overthink about where you were, and with whom. Cregan would try to calm him down, offering him his blunt which Jace would accept in order to relax.

Hours passed, it was 4am when the music stopped and everyone passed out in random parts of the fraternity house. Cregan and Jace were stumbling their way up to their dorm, the effects of the alcohol still lingering in their bodies as they struggled to reach for their room. They both were holding onto each other until they opened the door and saw you standing in front of the mirror, wiping off your make up and getting ready to sleep. They noticed you had moved their beds together, making a bigger one as you usually do whenever you stayed with them.

They entered the room in silence, and while Cregan was closing the door and turning the lock, Jace stood closer to you almost drooling once he saw you were wearing one of his shirts. He wrapped his arms around your waist and hid his face on the crock of your neck, leaving wet kisses all over your skin and completely forgetting about the fact that he was supposed to be ignoring you.

“You're so fucking weak, Jace,” Cregan scolded him, removing his shoes and shirt, getting ready to bed.

You turned to look at the eldest guy, who just ignored your intense gaze.

“You're mad?” you dared to ask.

“We both are, actually,” Jacaerys murmured against your skin.

“And why would you be mad? I should be the angry one!”

“Oh, really?” Cregan finally turned, stepping closer to you. “Why is that?”

“You know why! We talked about this and you decided to keep ignoring me!”

Stark laughed dryly, his gray eyes getting darker as he narrowed them. “Is that why you've been acting like a fucking whore tonight? Trying to get into a freshman's pants to get our attention. Fucking pathetic.” He took a step close enough to grab your jaw and force you to look at him. You tried to squirm away from him, but Jace's arms tightened their grip around your body, and you had no escape. “Jace couldn't even enjoy the fucking party because he thought you were sucking another guy's cock. You think that's fair? To make him feel like shit the entire night because you were just needy of attention?”

“I- I didn't-”

“You broke my heart tonight, sweetheart,” Jace whispered in your ear as his fingers reached the hem of your shirt. “You need to pay for what you've done…”

“I'm- I'm sorry, I never meant to-”

“It seems like you need a lesson,” Cregan interrupted you, tightening his grip on your face and making you whine. “Something to remind you that you belong to us.”

Jacaerys' hand cupping your core with one of his hands, burying his fingers between your folds and covering them with your growing slick. He giggled, “she's not wearing panties…” he informed, smiling up at Cregan who clenched his jaw.

“Get her on her knees,” he commanded, and the youngest obeyed immediately, letting you go from his firm grip.

You fell to your knees, scratching them with the raspy carpet beneath you. Jace removed his shirt as Cregan started to unbutton his pants until they pooled around his ankles along with his underwear. You whimpered once you saw his cock starting to get hard under your haze, your mouth watering as you leaned towards his side.

“Get on the bed,” he pointed at Jace. You tried to stand up and follow the instructions too, yet he stopped you by gripping the front of your head and pulling it back. “Not you,” he sternly said. “Open up.”

Obediently, you did as you were told, opening your mouth and letting him press his tip on your tongue. He gave it a few taps, teasing before ge finally decided to start fucking your mouth. Cregan grabbed the sides of your head to keep you still in your position, and his hips started to snap against your throat without further warning. You found stability when you placed your cold hands on his thighs, grasping onto them so you wouldn't lose balance as he had no mercy with you.

You looked up teary eyed, gagging and gulping loudly as you heard his moans slipping out of his plump lips. The small eye contact suddenly became too much for him, so he leaned his head back as he closed his eyes. “Such a delicious mouth,” he praised you, “taking my cock so fucking well.”

His grip around your head started to hurt a bit, his fingertips burying in you as he fastened his pace. It wasn't hard for you to become a mess; your own drool was falling down the corners of your lips as you cried out, your whines being muffled by him inside your mouth, and your slick already starting to leak out of you. Your arousal only grew once he buried himself completely in your mouth, grabbed the back of your head and forced you to stay there for a few seconds, with his length fully sheathed in your throat. Your nose brushed against his pelvis as the air started to escape from your lungs.

“Come on now, baby,” he murmured with a strained voice, feeling his cock pulsing inside your mouth. “Take it… take it all…”

He chuckled softly as you started to tap on his thigh, and he quickly let you go. You gasped once he pulled out of your mouth, gasping for the air your lungs desperately needed. He moaned softly once he saw you; tears on your face, drool falling down your swollen lips — you looked so pretty he even thought about letting you go unpunished and just please you, but then he turned to see Jace; his cock was achingly hard, his ruddy tip leaking as he desperately fucked his fist; he had been so good to you, and you made him feel so bad throughout the night; he deserved a reward, and you deserved a punishment.

Before you could react, Cregan grabbed your body with ease, lifting you up from the ground and carelessly carrying you towards the bed. You moaned with his touch, so needy of him that even his roughness made you squirm out of pleasure. He moved your body around as if you were a ragdoll, shifting your position in bed until you were sitting on top of Jace's pelvis, his cock right between your legs. For a second you thought it was finally the time for them to fuck you, but you were so wrong.

“Grab her hips,” he commanded, using that mandatory tone that drove you and Jace insane. “Don't let her move.”

He positioned himself between the boy's legs, leaving you more confused than before. “What- what are you-?”

“I'm teaching you a lesson,” he stopped you before you could finish your question. “You'll see what happens when you behave and when you don't.”

You saw him leaning down, his plump lips wrapping the tip of Jace's cock and making him squirm beneath your body. Your mouth dropped as you looked at Cregan taking him entirely, his haze fixed in you as the frustration in your body grew even more. The youngest had his nails buried in the flesh of your hips, you heard him moan so prettily that you could even feel the slick oozing out of you, even when you were untouched. It was such a sinful image to witness, especially when Cregan's eyes became teary once he gagged around Jace.

“Oh, fuck…” you mumbled, tears of despair gathering in your eyes as your breathing became ragged. “P-please touch me…”

Jace's hand attempted to reach for your throbbing clit, but the older grabbed his hand and pushed it away. “I'll stop if you touch her,” he warned him. All you could do was cry out.

Cregan's ragged breathing would reach your folds, causing shivers all over your spine. You would try to move your hips to at least rub yourself against Jace's skin, but he didn't allow it, holding you down so tightly that you were certain it would leave a bruise.

The moans turned into whines as Jace started to quickly feel the orgasm coming. His skin was burning as Cregan fervently sucked on his tip, using his tongue to clean up the precum spilling from his slit. Whenever you would cry out or move on top of him he would feel closer to the edge, his body burning inside. “I'm so fucking close, baby,” he whimpered, “keep sucking my cock, I'm- I'm gonna fucking cum… f-fuuck.”

You saw Cregan hollowing his cheeks, milking Jace dry as he came inside his mouth. Drops of the pearly seed escaped from his lips and you felt the need to lick them both clean. You needed a taste, anything that would make you feel some kind of relief.

He sat back up, and as soon as he laid his hazy eyes on you, he grabbed your neck pulling you closer towards him. As if it was a reflex, you opened your mouth while you stared at him through your glossy eyes. He let his spit fall onto your mouth, to then pull you close and fervently kiss you. The salty taste of Jace's release lingered in your mouths as you devoured each other, you would whine against his lips, still sobbing as your pussy was already aching for the lack of attention.

That's when the boy beneath you wrapped you between his arms, forcing you to lay on top of his chest. He didn't even let you catch a break before you felt his cock slowly making his way inside of you, and you gasped out of relief. He stretched you out, providing you with that sweet sting of pain that drove you insane. His hands grabbed your thighs, folding you in half as he started to thrust upwards.

“Don't ever forget who you belong to,” he grunted against your ear as you struggled to keep it quiet. Probably the whole house knew what you were doing, and maybe that was their purpose all along. “You're fucking ours, baby. This tight pussy belongs to us, do you hear me?”

Cregan's hand fell hard on your throbbing clit as you remained silent. A whine left your lips as Jace kept bullying your gummy, wet walls with his girth.

“Answer him,” he demanded, getting closer to you and placing his leaking cock on top of your swollen pearl. You felt the room spinning.

“Yes! Yes! I'm- fuck… I'm fucking yours,” you sobbed.

The whole situation became overwhelming, while one was burying himself in the deepest part of you, the other was rubbing himself on your sensitive flesh, searching for his own release as he wrapped his hand around your throat.

“Fuck, you're fucking squeezing me so tight, baby,” Jace moaned, breathlessly as he felt the mixture of your slick falling down his sack. The lewd sounds of your folds getting stretched by his thickness almost making him cum again. “So fuckin delicious…”

“We've just started and we already fucked her silly,” Cregan chuckled. “She's a fucking mess for us…”

A layer of sweat covered your body; you felt the blood burning inside your veins, the orgasm approaching you embarrassingly fast as they were stimulating your senses. Your eyes rolled back, the desperate pleads slipping out of your lips as you were begging them to make you cum. You were shaking, your face covered in tears as the moans were ripped out of your throat.

“So loud,” the older teased you, “gonna wake up the whole fucking house…”

“I- I need to… please, I need to cum!”

Cregan leaned towards you, and Jace instinctively fastened his pace, burying himself deeper and harder; you had a hard time thinking straight as the older’s hands tightened around your neck. “Ow, poor girl, wants to cum. I don't think you deserve it.”

“P-please, Cregan…”

“Work for it,” he demanded. “Make Jace cum and then you're free to do it too.”

Almost as if it was an instinct, you started to move your hips up and down Jace's cock, making the thrusts more intense and deeper. The younger moaned loudly, already feeling overstimulated by your movements and feeling his sack heavy with a new load of his release. He thought about how pretty you would look with your legs spreaded and his seed falling from your weeping hole; that image alone almost made him peak right in the spot.

“Jacey, please!” you whined, already growing tired. “Please, please, cum in me!”

“Want me to fill your pretty cunny, baby? Mhm? Want my cum inside of you?” he teased, and you rolled your eyes as your walls clenched with his filthy words.

“Yes… yes, please… give it to me, please…”

As a spectator, Cregan groaned loudly, quickly rubbing his hands around his shaft with his eyes fixed in the way Jace was filling you up, bewitched by that bulge in your belly that grew each time that he would bury himself deep inside of you, touching your sweet spot over and over until your head feel dizzy and all that left your mouth were incoherent mumbling.

“I can't… I can't hold it…” you sobbed.

“Come on, baby, I'm so fucking close, just wait for me,” Jace whimpered, his movements getting more desperate and sloppier.

“I can't! I can't! F-fuck…”

Everything came to a breaking point once your release gushed out of you, spurring all over them and making a complete mess. Neither of them could hold back after such an obscene view in front of them, and they were quick to follow. Jacaerys finally spilled himself in you, his seed painting your walls and filling you to the brim. Lastly, Cregan stained your shirt and flesh with his pearly drops, moaning so beautifully that it made you feel butterflies in your belly.

You hissed when Jace pulled out of you, feeling your legs shake while Cregan struggled to stand up from the bed and looking for something to clean you up while you laid against the younger’s body, who softly wiped the tears out of your face.

“Shh… it's okay, you did so good for us, my love,” he cooes, so gently. “So, so good.”

“I'm- I'm sorry,” you mumbled while Cregan returned to your side with a towel in his hand. With soft brushes he started to clean your thighs, your belly and the raw flesh between your legs. “I- I never meant to make you two feel bad… I was- I was being so selfish-”

“Hey,” Cregan stopped you, holding your face with gentleness; so different from his previous touch. “It's already behind us, okay?”

Once he finished cleaning you up, your body fell into Jace's embrace as he wrapped his arms around your body, pulling you closer to him and cuddling with you. He hid his face on the crook of your neck and softly hummed when the remains of your sweet perfume reached his nose.

“We love you so much,” he whispered, “please, don't ever do that to us again…”

You grabbed your face only to see his puppy, brown eyes. A gentle, soft kiss was shared as you felt Cregan laying down behind you and fondling your body, soon you three had your limbs tangled as you kissed and caressed each other without shame. Loving touches that relaxed all of you.

“I'm sorry,” you whispered again to the both of them. “I'll never do that again.”

“Do you promise?” Cregan asked.

“I promise,” you softly nodded.

The Northern boy leaned to leave a soft kiss on your cheek, you both shared a gentle smile which let you know that the anger that was once within him was now fully gone.

follow @by-fairysluna for updates!!

GENERAL TAG LIST — @islandfantasydream @arcielee @bucknastysbabe @zaldritzosrose @rafeism @valeskafics

CREGAN TAG LIST — @purplequxxn @iloveharbingers @jeongiegram @koobratzy @foxyanon

JACAERYS TAG LIST — @iloveharbingers @alynna-m @katharina1111 @simp-aholic

#house of the dragon #hotd #cregan stark smut #cregan stark x reader #cregan stark #jacaerys velaryon smut #jacaerys velaryon x reader #cregan stark x jacaerys velaryon #jaceagan #hotd smut #hotd fanfic #cregan stark x you #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys velaryon x you

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captain-joongz · 2 months ago

Text

i'm back with another delicious little scenario, this time for our boy Hwa~~ hope you enjoy yourself!

hard hours are open, inbox is ready for you darlings!!! <3

HARD HOURS THOUGHTS

warnings: voyeurism, photographing sex, fingering, squirting, exhibitionism, nudity and nude photography

now, let's talk about photography major Seonghwa who uses his bestie for his final project - displays of tasteful nudity

when his professor told Seonghwa their final project in the summer semester would be tasteful nude photography, he immediately thought of you - even though it took some effort to persuade you to help him

as his bff of course you'd do anything for him, but this seemed a little far - you've never been naked in front of him, but in the end you agreed after he promised to buy you those shoes you'd been pining after - none of you could have anticipated how this would end up

Hwa chose his bed as the place and after some hesitation you stripped down to panties. it started innocent enough, with you lying on the bed and Seonghwa kneeling over you with his camera, hands barely touching you to move you to his liking. but after a while he'd get frustrated that his vision just wasn't coming through

his touches would get firmer, more demanding, grabbing roughly onto your flesh and pulling you into different positions, the artist's focus fully consuming him - and shamefully you'd start to get wet. especially when the lines started to blur and he asked for more sensuality, more eroticism and you bowed and bent under his camera, felt yourself up for the lense and grew breathless when his dark eyes took you in and appraised you

after that it didn't take long for his fingers to wander - to make it more authentic, to draw your expressions out better - just to help you out to sell it, that's what he whispered when he slipped them between your thighs and caressed your slick cunt. before you knew it your panties were off and he was three fingers in deep, wild strokes making you thrash about the bed

somehow he still managed to keep taking photos - the shutter sound and occasional flash interrupting your pleasure muddled mind as you writhed under him. and what a vision you made - body twisted beautifully, hands tied and twisted into the bedding as you sought to ground yourself, face an amalgamation of lust, pleasure and gratification.

and he'd be damned if he didn't capture the look of your climax, if he missed the clear shot of your sweet ecstasy

your orgasm somehow creeped up on you - the pleasure was so intense that you didn't even notice when it started boiling over until you were clenching on his long slender fingers and crying out, the waves of pleasure robbing you of your breath

and Hwa did take a photo of it, and weeks later after he went through heaps of shaky blurred photos depicting your little romp and salvaged a few of them, it was the centre piece of his exhibition

divider by @cafekitsune

#hard hours #ateez hard hours #ateez smut #seonghwa smut

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uno-san · 4 months ago

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Bill Cipher Vs. Self-Hatred

Howdy y'all! Today I just wanted to go over some thoughts I had over everybody's favorite triangle that may or may not have occurred to some of you already. Naturally this will contain Book of Bill Spoilers.

To start off our little essay I thought it would be important to first sum up my thoughts on one of Bill's more complicated relationships: Stanford

Now we've all seen his dynamic with Stanford plenty of times in the show but with recent information coming from both the Book of Bill and thisisnotawebsitedotcom.com more light has been shed on the subject from both Bill's perspective and Ford's.

There's more than meets the eye when it comes to dissecting Bill's interactions and thoughts on Stanford, with the ever enlightening "EVEN HIS LIES ARE LIES" making theorists scratch their heads. Within the Book of Bill are these codes and their meanings: hbh grfwru ri d gliihuhqw nlqg/ zkr zdqw wr pdnh klv sdwlhqw eolqg

eye doctor of a different kind/ who wants to make his patient blind

Qeb alzqlo pxvp/ qeobb pfmp x axv/ tfii jxhb qeb sfpflkp/ dl xtxv

The doctor says/ three sips a day/ will make the visions/ go away

Ixvvb hdwhu/ edeb eloob/ zrxogq'w gulqn/ xqohvv lwv vloob

Fussy eater/ baby billy/ wouldn't drink/ unless its silly

As well as:

Finding out that both Stanford and Bill have a genetic mutation that made them Black Sheep suggests the possibility that Bill saw a kinship within Stanford. After all, he did make the offer for Stanford to join him. No doubt being able to sympathize with Stanford's situation yet misreading his motivations, causing the rift in their once savable relationship once Bill's lies were uncovered.

Now I'll admit it was others who came up with this theory in particular, especially when drawing comparisons of how Stanford was treated and how Bill allegedly was for having a strange eye. Stanford, in some form of other, might represent how Bill was before he saw the destruction of his world by his hands. A mere outcast looking for his place in the world. To be believed rather than ridiculed or "fixed".

Self-Hatred

And now we get to the Bill we all know today:

The chaos loving and nightmare inducing three-sided maniac, who may be hiding more insecurities than he ever let on in the show, thanks to the Theraprism.

Someone far more traumatized

Who's had to convince himself to fully be the bastard he is today

But if the theory that Bill had a type of kinship with Stanford thanks to their mutations was true, then wouldn't it be possible that his relationship with someone else might represent the inner struggle with himself?

For you see, the original title of this post was...

Bill Cipher Vs. Stanley Pines

As my own theory is that Stanley Pines is what Bill decided to project his self-hatred on. Nobody can doubt that the two have similar qualities, yet as I read the Book of Bill and thisisnotawebsitedotcom I couldn't help but notice the absolute malice that Bill has for Stanley whenever he's mentioned.

There have been many opponents before that have strived to take Bill down. Whether that was the Shaman, the Anti-Cipher Society, or Time Baby, none of his interactions with them have appeared as vitriol as compared to Stanley.

Not even Stanford has this same reaction, who, by really no contest, was the closest to ever defeating Cipher by himself. Both with the gun that he near successfully killed Bill with and the secret of the barrier of Gravity Falls he refused to give up. Bill didn't even have a real interaction with Stanley until the last episode.

Yet it isn't Stanford that causes Bill to break while he's in the Theraprism. It's Stanley.

"-A resume-inflating, cheap trick loving, past-denying overgrown child protected from failure only by a force field of DENIAL AND shamelessness!"

"Self-pitying"

"Stupid"

"Smug"

"Hack Jokes"

"UNWORTHY"

Now it could be just me, but those are a lot of specific insults to fling somebody's way that you've barely interacted with. Especially if Bill credits the Twin Swap to Stanford entirely as opposed to allowing Stanley the credit.

"STEP RIGHT UP, it's time to play my FAVORITE GAME!! BOOTLEG SIXER over HERE spent a LIFETIME trying to hide his humiliations, BUT I'VE BEEN INSIDE HIS MIND, so NOW they’re ALL YOURS for the low low price of BEING MY NEW PAL! ITS SHOWTIME FOLKS, AND THE ONLY WAY TO LOSE IS TO BE NAMED STANLEY PINES!"

“SHAME:TM - IT'S THE ONE FRIEND WHO NEVER LEAVES!”

This out-of-character hatred doesn't come from the fact that Bill thought Stanley wasn't worthy, it comes from the fact that Bill sees himself in Stan. Who by all means is a lying and conniving screw up. Somebody who let his family down.

This could possibly be proven by the poem Bill had wrote about Stanley:

The whole poem suits my point but I decided to highlight the sections that caught my eye specifically. That when you put into consideration Bill's clear trauma and regret about the Euclidian Massacre, his own words can clearly be flipped back on him.

That he sees himself as a curse and a mistake. A self-made monster. Someone who's left the past behind when the loss of his home is still on his mind.

And what truly gets under Bill's skin about Stanley Pines?

"He got his life and family back.

His big break, it finally came,

Redemption from a life of shame"

Stanley got back what Bill can't.

#Gravity Falls #Book of Bill #book of bill spoilers #Stanley pines #Stanford pines #Bill cipher #Gravity Falls theory #theory #thisisnotawebsitedotcom #gf stan #gf ford #I refuse to proof read this #the book of bill

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lovelywyenn · 1 month ago

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“P*ssy Drunk”

★Giyuu Tomiokax fem!Reader★ Synopsis★forget pussy drunk, have you ever seen Giyuu a slutty, whiny mess just because of your thighs. That shit'll kill you ★ Includes★Pussy eating,Squirtingg,clit worship, mini handjob, thigh fucking, overstimulation, lots of cum★ ★W.C★2.5K

Your face was flushed, and your hair was messy. Your thighs were quaking and you swore your vision was blacking out.

Who the hell taught this boy to eat pussy like this.

Giyuu’s tongue was toe curling, he was slurping the soul out of you. All the men you usually fucked around with. Football players, rich dudes. They couldn’t find the clit if it had neon signs pointing to it. But Giyuu didn’t have that problem.

He had found your clit, thirty…maybe forty-five minutes ago. And he hadn’t let it go since. You were joking, just playing around with the nerd when you told him you’d give him the orgasm of a lifetime if he ate you out. But he took it seriously.

The only reason he was in your dorm room right now was because of a school project. Usually when you get paired with a loser like him you’d let them do all the work. But Giyuu, he was a bit of a cutie.

You still remember the first time you got paired with him, and you didn’t think you’d ever go back.

You liked how nervous he got around you, how bad he stuttered when you got close. It was painfully obvious he was into you. And you loved taking advantage of it. That boy would do anything for you at the drop of a hat.

Oh you needed a new pair of heels, he cashapped you two hundred in five minutes. You were too tired to do your homework, send it his way and he’d have it done the next day. Drank too much last night, he was ready with tylenol and ginger ale to help your stomach and your head.

Sometimes he was too sweet, and you felt…bad for the way you treated him.

But you always shook yourself out of it. He was a fun little play thing. And that was all he was.

A pretty little toy with the tongue of a god.

“Fuckkkk….” you moan as he kisses at your slit, spreading your lips to fuck his tongue into you.

Three times. You had said he had to make you cum three times to get you to return the favor, and he hadn’t passed anatomy at the top of his class for no reason. You were so easy to read, to break. You were a mess the moment his tongue flicked across your clit. Worshiping the bud with nasty, toe curling sucks that had you moaning his name. His name!

He had imagined it before, having you under him, hearing you finally thank him for everything he had done for you. Finally acknowledging him.

But the real thing was so much better than his imagination. Your pussy was so pretty, so needy. He could tell from the way you reacted to him none of the men you had been with had ever eaten you properly. Never taken the time to kiss their meal before indulging in it, never appreciating the goddess’s thighs they were in between.

Though he wasn’t like them, Giyuu wouldn’t make that mistake.

He wanted you shaking under him, for your voice to be hoarse from calling out his name. And you gave him exactly that.

You didn’t like losing control, to show more than you wanted. But his tongue was too good. How could anyone not give into such immense pleasure. He ate you out so good your body could barely handle the pleasure.

The first orgasm he gave you was one of the best you’ve ever had. Your body arched up into the air so high you thought you’d fall off the bed. But Giyuu wrapped his surprisingly strong arms around your thighs just to drag you halfway off the bed securely and dive right back in.

The overstimulation took you by surprise. A man had barely given you an orgasm before, much less dived back in for seconds.

Clearly, Giyuu wasn’t leaving here without losing his virginity. Which meant you weren’t getting let up on until you came a third time.

The second orgasm hit you barely two minutes ago. And Giyuu didn’t even let you go for that one. His tongue stayed sloshing around your clit.

It felt like all the air had been taken from your lungs. You didn’t cry, you never cried. But you wanted to, so bad.

It was so unfair, how he was tearing you apart with pleasure so intense. You’ve never felt it before, hot white sparks flew down every vein in your body every time his tongue moved on you.

The sounds in the room were so nasty, the filthy sounds of slick and spit permeating throughout the room. And you could feel it too. Everything was so wet. You could feel yourself sopping, but who could blame you. The immense wetness paired with the sloppy head you were receiving was the sexiest thing ever.

“Oh my god, you’re g-gonna kill meeee!” you hiccup.

Your voice is exactly the way he wanted it. Tired and desperate for him. All for him. It was so pathetic he almost felt bad for you, almost wanted to let up a bit.

But when your pretty hands slide down into his long hair, pulling him impossibly closer to your slit he doesn’t feel too bad anymore. He flattens his tongue, a smirk on curling on the edge of his lips as your hips buck up into his tongue erratically, practically pleading to reach your peak. Not that he minded, his brain had almost gone as dumb as yours at this point. How could Giyuu be expected to think straight when those pretty stilettos he had paid for were scratching at his scalp so deliciously.

A question leaves your lips as you grow tired of grinding, “P-Please, can you suck my clit a-again” you ask, peering down at Giyuu.

Deep blue eyes gaze up into your own, and the hungry look in them makes you whimper. That was the first time you had ever said please before you asked him for something. He just had to make sure he rewarded you for using your manners.

His tongue licks a long stripe up your cunt before latching his lips on your clit, lavishing your hardened bud with all the loving it deserved.

A symphony of your whines filled the room, and you were squirming so bad he had to hold you down to stay focused on his target. One of his hands had a harsh hold on the fat of your thigh. The other pressed hard against your lower stomach to get you still.

The pressure has your eyes rolling back in your head, too overwhelmed to warn him about what was coming.

Blue eyes widen as Giyuu is sprayed with juices. It takes him one..two seconds to react before his tongue is sliding down to your entrance, one of his thumbs taking up for his tongue’s absence on your clit.

You don’t make a sound, but you don’t have to, your pussy does all the talking for you. And she was having the orgasm of a lifetime. Giyuu could feel your cunt twitching under your thumb, and your spray of juices seemed to be never ending.

But he takes care of your pretty pussy until she doesn’t have a drop of juice left to squirt on his tongue, until she’s spent out and tired just like you were.

You peek open your eyes when you feel Giyuu pull away. And you almost wish you didn’t.

Why the hell did he look so fucking sexy?

His shirt was soaked, almost all the way through, and his face was no better. You could see the shine of your slick across his chin. His lips red from how hard he had been sucking on your clit. His skin was just as flushed as yours, if not more. And his hair was disheveled from your tight hold on his locks.

But sexiest of all was the look he gave you. Like the sight of you, a wet mess under him, was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. His eyes met yours and they never left as he pulled off his shirt. His movements erratic as he shucks off the rest of his clothes.

You couldn’t help but gasp as his cock sprung out his boxers. It was…gorgeous. Though not girthy, he was sizely. Pretty pink tip sitting on top of a lengthy shaft. He was so hard it looked painful, veins easily on display. His tip was leaky, dripping on the floor of your room.

“...That’s three times” he says quietly, stepping up to you.

Your eyes widen as he grabs you by your ankles, pulling your body closer to him. The tip of his cock slaps at your clit and you moan, a shiver running through you.

“You’ll help me cum, right princess? That was the deal” he says, “Can i put it in mama?”

The words are like liquid heat, and they send a fire to your cunt. It was a bit scary, how he had so much control over you, how he could make you feel like this so easily.

“You think i’d ever let you fuck me?” you say. It’s supposed to be mean, demeaning even. But it comes out as a breathless whisper.

Giyuu frowned at your words, “B-but you said you would” he says. He wasn't the one who had just came three times, but he could have fooled you. His voice was so disappointed, so desperate, you would have thought he was ready to cry.

And with the way he hugged your leg, eyes actually growing a bit glossy, you think he actually might.

For some reason, the look in his eye tugged at your heart strings. It was that feeling that let you know you were giving in. But you couldn’t let him completely get his way.

You bring one of your hands to your mouth, spitting on it. With that hand you reach down and grab Giyuu’s cock. And it takes everything in the man not to cum on the spot as you yank at his cock.

“Look at me” you bark at him, and he listens to your orders.

“You’d have to make me cum five times and throw a couple hundred in if you ever wanna feel this cunt around your cock” you spit, “...But i suppose since you did what i asked so well, I ‘ll let you fuck my thighs instead”

It’s not what he thought he’d end up with, but Giyuu knew you very well. It was either take this offer or leave with the rest of the project to finish alone in his room.

He’d take thigh fucking the woman of his dreams over doing work alone in his room any day.

“Okay” he agrees, voice hoarse as you let his cock free from your grip.

Giyuu maneuvers you the way he wants you and you let him. After all he had earned this. He slots his dick between your thighs, throwing your two legs over the same shoulder, effectively sandwiching the flesh together.

He gives an experimental thrust, aided from the slick coating of your thighs.

It feels weird…but good. Better than anything else he had ever felt before.

You looked up at the man, his face contorting into so many different things. Pleasure, pain, almost every sensation in the book. But you could feel his dick twitching, clearly he wasn’t minding the new terms of your deal.

It took thirty seconds for Giyuu to grow addicted to having you under him like this. And thirty seconds to start whining.

Every Time he thrust forward, his tip would knock against your clit, and in no time, he had you moaning right along with him. While yours were low, quiet moans. Giyuu clearly wanted the whole dorm hallway to hear the two of you.

He was so loud, so whiny. But he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Your thighs were so thick and smooth, hugging his cock tightly. And the warmth of your cunt along the underside of his cock was driving him crazy. It was so wet, your slick sticking to his cock, only making it easier for him to fuck your thighs faster,

Giyuu just looked so…pretty like this. Eyes shut tightly as he humped his cock along your thighs, the most desperate moans leaving his mouth. He looked like he was gonna lose his mind if he sped up any faster, but that didn’t stop him.

From the sounds of skin slapping together in your dorm, it almost sounded like he was inside you, dick deep in your guts. If he was inside you, you were sure you would have come by now. Hell, you were close just from occasional nudges of your clit.

There was so much pre spilling along your thighs, you didn’t even know it was possible for a guy to be so turned on. It was such an ego booster. To know that the man fucking your thighs was a hot mess because of you.

“Such a messy cock baby” you giggle.

The sound of your laugh and your words has Giyuu’s brain short circuiting, eyes open to look at you. You’d never called him that before.

It felt so good he could barely answer you. “I-I can’t help it” he whines. And you smile, “I know baby, I know” you coo.

“Bet you’re ready to cum all over me, huh? Little cock ready to blow” you tease.

It’s meant to be mocking but the intention goes right over Giyuu’s head. Because you were right. He was about to blow.

“M’gonna c-cum princess” he mutters.

The confession makes you squeeze your thighs around his cock harder than before, and the friction isn’t lost on him.

You weren't even worried about yourself any more. Finding yourself a bit too desperate to name him cum.

“Go on baby, make it messy f'me, yeah?”you say.

He wants to warn you, but just like you earlier. The pleasure was too overwhelming for him to speak. But not too much to stop him from whining. You gasp as his cum shoots all the way up to your tits. There’s so much of it, you can only imagine how pent up the poor boy was.

Giyuu had never cum with the help of another before, and no his virginity hadn’t been taken that day. But he had found something he thought he could stay addicted to forever.

Your thighs were heaven and even after such a nasty orgasm, he couldn’t find it in himself to stop. How could he? You just looked so pretty covered in his cum.

And he swore he was gonna lose it when you scooped some of his cum off your fat tits and licked on it.

The overstimulation was bad, and it hurt. But it felt so fucking good to be trapped between your thighs.

He swore he could stay between them forever, or until his cock was shooting ghosts.

Plus, you didn't seem to mind his desperate thrusts between your now cum covered thighs. Infact, the finger bitten between your teeth showed you had almost been enjoying this as much as him.

Almost.

YOU’LL HAVE TO PRY SUBBY GIYUU FROM MY COLD DEAD HANDS!!!!!!!~ Kinktober Masterlist|2024

#Kny #demon slayer #kny smut #demon slayer smut #demon slayer x reader #kny hashira #hashira x reader #giyuu tomioka #kny giyuu #demon slayer giyuu #giyuu smut #tomioka smut #giyuu tomioka x reader smut #giyuu x reader #kinktober #kinktober 2024

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ma1dita · 10 months ago

Text

love like a blister

the five stages of loving losing luke

a ‘partners in crime’ installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 4.7k

summary: (post-tlt) set directly after lovers, or partners in crime; The one where you learn to mourn someone even if they're still alive. Loving him and losing him are one and the same; the aftermath of his betrayal. this work references a lot of previous works in the series! (Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader)

a/n: yeah… yall been asking for this so buckle up. luke is not present in this one, moreso you/trouble dealing with the after. i let annabeth breakdown a bit since ep 8 was amazing but felt choppy to me. this is not the end of the trouble!verse i promise!!

(posted 2/12/24, betaed by mootie lari @mrsaluado)

—

DENIAL - bursting under pressure

we grew up together, what do you mean you grew into a person i can’t love?

Annabeth and Percy find you standing at the edge of the forest clearing—staring at the space where you let the love of your life vanish into thin air.

You let him leave.

It’s almost harrowing when the three of you make eye contact, not a single weapon in your possession, only your dying lantern and heart bleeding with the confirmation of Luke’s betrayal.

Knees shaking as Annabeth stalks over and her sword still raised with tears in her eyes, she’s no longer Luke’s little sister but a formidable warrior set on protecting camp—on protecting Percy.

And you failed in doing either of those things you promised yourself at the beginning of this summer because you ignored the signs of Luke’s behavior— until this very moment. There’s a pressure in your head that dampens your senses, overtaking the control you have over your being as you deny any knowledge of what happened tonight.

Because in truth, you put the pieces together at the same time they did, just a little too late. She looks at you now with the fury she wasn’t able to project on the real traitor.

“You knew,” she grits her teeth, on the defensive as Percy scrambles up from the ground.

“Annie, I…”

Percy stares at you in horror, a few steps back with Riptide in his injured grasp, and suddenly he understands what it means to see you break. They both feel it instantly as your lantern goes out. Heavy despair drapes over all of you as the madness rips its way through your body, almost breaking through your skin as it emanates through the air. The two children had never felt anything like it before, swords shaking in their hands as they’re filled with the sensation until it bubbles over and they can’t do anything but watch you, their usually poised head counselor lose your grip on reality.

But this can’t be real.

Out of all of the plans you both made, it was never deemed a possibility that Luke wouldn’t be there with you. Now you stand in the darkness of the forest, hands raised in surrender to a crime you didn’t commit.

There’s so much pressure and it hurts holding it all in, hurts so badly—everywhere until you scream.

“DAD!”

You stare at their small faces surrounding you in anguish, both of them talking but not a single word registers in your mind as you keep shaking your head and screaming for your father for the first time in your life. Before the words the words can form between your lips again Dionysus is there, not as an immortal god but carrying the wrath of a protective father, and there are no forces that can fight against that.

It all moves fast from there, black spots blurring your vision brought by the sheer strength of your tears. Though you don’t feel strong right now, instead there’s nothing that can describe the feeling but hurt as you’re frozen in pain.

The kids watch Mr. D check you for any injuries, but what they’ll never understand is that the wounds Luke left behind are on the inside, and you are bleeding. He shushes you, but the words fight their way out of your mouth, almost in disbelief. “Did I do that to him?”

Your father scoops you into his arms, godly strength and fatherly concern surfacing as he cradles you like a little girl like he should have all those years ago.

The haze clears as Mr. D quells the misery that reverberates through the air and it’s quiet again as your eyes fall shut. For a moment, Percy can’t help but wonder if this is another performance of yours, another way to throw him off of the traitor’s scent. But as your hand falls out from under Mr. D’s arm, he grabs onto it anyway. The son of Poseidon remembers how you and Luke always looked at each other like you were equals, and realizes that for once, the actress was outplayed at her own game.

ANGER - words leaking like an abscess

i never knew loving someone so much would be a crime

There isn’t a protocol set in place for when one of your cabin counselors and all-star campers defects with plans to wage war on the gods. There is even less of a precedent set in place for when the head counselor and daughter of the camp director is left to pick up the pieces, hands dirtied by the evidence he left behind. Perhaps your job description was never truly clear anyway.

All you know now is that you’ve been sitting in a rickety wooden chair in your dad’s office for hours now, tied up—for formalities.

This must be your punishment from the gods for every way you were different. Maybe if you were braver, maybe if you didn’t force yourself to only see the good in him, maybe then maybe, he could’ve been saved too. Surely undoing all of that would be considerably less painful than being questioned by everyone you love about the one you love.

For once you didn’t have any good answers.

“Like I said to Chiron. I didn’t know.”

“You didn’t know what? Use your big girl words. Just do the right thing, like you always say!” Clarisse barks in your face. The centaur tuts at the daughter of Ares, making her step back and cross her arms. The boys are more silent but still suspicious, and Lee asks if you really thought Clarisse was the traitor.

“I didn’t. I was the last one to know,” you grit, looking at Percy who surveys you with hesitant eyes, “I just thought Luke was leaving. I didn’t know why.”

“How do we know you’re not working for Kronos too?”

One of them says it, you’re losing track as to who when you blink hard and long, but the words spill out of you like a festering wound— fast, acidic, and painful.

“Do you REALLY think I could turn my back on my home? My friends? Is that how you all think of me? After everything!”

“You’d do anything for that boy and we all know it,” Silena says with a scowl very unlike her, though you suppose everyone’s out of sorts from exhaustion.

“Not that. That’s where him and I are different. I would never be able to do that.”

You think you hear Silena bite back a sob as she turns away from you, not meeting your eyes.

Mr. D was unable to judge you since you were his only daughter. He’s been gone most of the night and you feel so alone even if the room is filled with familiar faces that don’t even want you here. Charles, Percy, Lee, Clarisse, Silena, Katie stand still as they judge you— Annabeth didn’t even come to the Big House, her mind probably already made up.

Chiron says there will be a vote, the procedural way—like how you taught the cabin counselors how to handle disagreements, though they were never expecting to vote on your dismissal from camp. Tensions are high, some rightfully angry at the war looming over your heads, others looking at you with pity from the other corner of the room. All of them, your friends, still, you hope.

6 votes, since you and Luke didn’t count, and Annabeth’s abstention. They did it outside, away from your view and you sit in the silence of the office, angry at what’s become of you. Tainted and tarnished, you don’t bother to find out who voted what, knowing things won’t be the same after this.

Your dad comes back a little before dawn, having asked a favor from Apollo to determine your innocence–to prove that you’re telling the truth. But by then, Charles and Lee are already untying you from your chair and you’re being let go. You wonder what changed once they were able to speak without being in your presence. Remaining seated and staring at all of them with your jaw set in stone-cold wrath, Percy thinks for a moment that you look like Luke.

The first rays of light shine through the window upon your sullen frame— a confirmation from the sun god that your heart was always pure. It still feels like a loss. There’s no medal or award for getting left behind, and winning has always been more of Luke’s thing.

You resign from the position of head counselor by the time sunlight spreads across the campgrounds.

BARGAINING - to make yourself new from the inside out

isn’t home the first place you learn to run from?

You catch Percy at the doorstep of cabin 3 before he leaves and your dad is yelling at all the campers.

“Okay! For those of you who are not staying for the full term… get out! You get out. Pack your bags. You’re going home!” Mr. D screams with a twinkle in his eye as he winks at you, patting you on the head before walking away to drive kids out.

“Didn’t think you’d be up,” Percy mumbles, adjusting his backpack over his shoulder. You’d been locked up in your room since the interrogation with almost no signs of life. He was worried about you—all of them were. They just didn’t know how to say it, after everything.

You stood in front of him in sweatpants and a shirt he’s sure he’s seen Luke wear to sleep before, exhaustion prominent on your face; usually you’re better at hiding it, but there’s no need for false pretenses anymore.

“Last day of camp. Had to end it on a good note,” you say softly, biting your lip, “I heard about what you did, Perce. You didn’t have to. I was going to quit anyway.”

Sometime in the past few days, Chiron came to your cabin to tell you they didn’t vote at all, which was a surprise to you. Percy convinced them not to, reminding them of your efforts as head counselor, and as a friend—the decision was settled quickly after that.

“I knew you didn’t betray us. I was just scared.”

You watch him shift his weight, not losing eye contact as he produces a half-smile. He seems older now after his quest, as many demigods do–though it’s only been a few weeks, he looks like he’s grown more sure of himself.

“That’s okay. I was too.”

The silence between you is comfortable as both of you listen to the birds in the trees, the distant voices of chattering children, and your heart hurts at the idea of leaving this, even temporarily. As your eyes flicker back to Percy’s, you realize he feels the same way.

“I hope your mom’s okay, especially after all of this. I just wanted to say goodbye.”

His sandy eyebrows furrow and it’s funny how Percy always looks a little confused.

“You’re leaving camp? I thought…”

“Well I’m not joining Kronos, if that’s what you’re worried about,” you laugh dryly, “It’s getting boring here. Gonna have to change it up soon, I think. See you.” you nod, waving a hand as you turn to walk away.

“Wait!”

Percy calls your name, skipping down the steps of his cabin and meeting you halfway down the forest path. He’s digging through his jacket pocket, and pulls out two black clay beads with blue tridents etched on the surface as your body grows cold.

“I don’t know what to do with—” “We…the other counselors, this is what we ended up voting on. And I thought you should get an extra, just in case,” Percy mumbles, his voice edged with hope and your face contorts into something like regret. You can’t cry again, even if you wanted to.

“I wouldn’t pray for something like that,” you whisper shakily.

“I thought you didn’t really pray at all.”

The kid smiles at you and it makes you wonder what souls like him and Luke must’ve done in their previous lives to deserve fates like this—to fight wars that aren’t their own. To be doomed by the narrative is a treacherous thing, and it is so utterly unfair.

“Yeah. That was more his style,” you sniff, taking the beads out of his hand, “but I still find myself with a lot of hope.”

Hope, in a sense, is prayer too. Wishing that things will be better, manifesting and believing that it doesn’t have to end this way. You don’t think Luke will ever come home to you, not really, not all of him, but it’s nice to have something to hang onto. At his core, he was raised to be a soldier, and soldiers don’t always come home.

You decide to drive Percy down the opposite shore to Montauk. It’s a short ride, and he spends the time looking out the window to the sea, thinking of his father— when the car pulls up to the driveway of the beach house, you step out and give him a hug. Soon, he’ll be taller than you.

“Take care of yourself, okay? Need anything and I’m a call away,” you smile, but he sees that it doesn’t reach your eyes.

“Thank you. For being a real friend, even if it hurts you.”

You grab his shoulder to make him look at you, and the distant sound of crashing waves dampens the thoughts running through your head.

“Listen to me. None of this is your fault. I couldn’t save him. Luke’s my biggest failure.”

Your voice wavers and you swallow hard, pushing the tears back down your throat.

“You know, I knew you didn’t know anything about his betrayal because when we were in the forest, I’d never seen you like that before. I couldn’t figure out the feeling, and–”

“I’m sorry you had to see me like that, Perce. I couldn’t hold it in anymore,” you interrupt, but he shakes his head and continues.

“I thought you were sad. It felt like sadness at first, but then I realized it was hatred. And I knew even then that I could never hate you. So I realized that’s how you felt about yourself. I hope someday you don’t feel that way anymore.”

If a few tears slip down your cheeks, Percy doesn’t pay it any mind. He waves at you when he gets to the door.

DEPRESSION - healing takes thick skin

i knew to love would be to lose my mind

After the summer term ended, you spent most of it in bed, hiding away from the world. You wished to be more spontaneous, to up and leave the safe boundaries of the camp you call home, but you’re not quite there yet.

The one good thing about this is your father. Dionysus was at your bedside every morning and night between the work him and Chiron had to do to keep camp running in your absence. His powerful fingers made themselves comfortable stroking your hair as you always find yourself staring at nothing. Your father cured you of what he thought was madness over your life being turned upside down by someone you love, but after the fog cleared, you were left feeling nothing. Numb to the touch, hardened by your hurt like a growing callous.

Impenetrable.

He thinks it’s bittersweet, getting to know you better as you chat late into the night when you can’t sleep, but it breaks his own heart to have the power of Olympus on his side and still not be able to fix you. He knows now what you must have been feeling these past few months, to some extent.

“Sometimes I wonder if I’m dead already,” you mutter as your eyes stare blankly at the glow-in-the-dark stars on your ceiling. Your dad is sitting at your desk as he signs paperwork, and his eyes flicker to a pinned photo on you wall of you kissing Luke’s cheek in a photobooth. One of the pins is missing a memory, torn and stolen away.

“Unfortunately, you’re not that lucky. I carried you out of that forest, I’d know,” he mutters, sipping on his Diet Coke.

“Will it always hurt like this? Losing someone you…” Love.

You can barely even bring yourself to say it, so he sighs and nudges you to move over on the bed, his Hawaiian shirt an eyesore against your bedspread. It makes your lips quirk up to see the god try to fit himself into a full-size as he adjusts to get comfortable.

“Yes. Because if it hurts, it means that it mattered. There is no such thing as love lost if you gave it willingly. You know, your mother and I were never together, but I loved her too.”

He tucks the duvet under your chin like he’s worried you’ll catch a chill. Your form is still unmoving under the covers as he continues.

“Love is a powerful catalyst. The actions humans do after are a product of that; it brings out the best or the worst in people, especially if you think it’s the only way. You love because you want more time with them. You love someone to life, not to death.”

“Silena said something at the Big House. She said that everyone knew I would do anything for him. Where does that leave me? What do I do now?”

Your eyes shut as you feel your dad grab your hand and he chuckles lowly. He knows a thing or two of doing anything for love. He’s gone to the underworld and back—twice, for his mother Semele and his true love, Ariadne. And he’d do it again for you, if he ever had to. “You’re not broken, kid. You’re in love. It’s the purest emotion the gods have bestowed onto humans, and it is a gift, even if it doesn’t work out. Love is insanity. I think you and I know it best.”

“I guess I’m a lot more like you than I like to admit,” you scoff, leaning against his arm.

“Don’t sound so excited, daughter of mine,” he says playfully, and he seems so human now as he laughs. The two of you have a gift of fixing people, but perhaps you were both blind to who needed it the most until this very moment. Sitting there in the quiet a little longer, it doesn’t feel so bad to be the favorite daughter of Dionysus. Maybe when you’re ready to get out of these walls, you’ll be able to say it with pride.

ACCEPTANCE - to be soft again takes strength

in another life, we would’ve mattered more than choosing sides

“He always hated it when you smoked, you know.”

You cough through a puff, boots slightly slipping in the sleet of the gravel driveway as you turn to face Annabeth. Besides the fact that her father’s house is grander than anything you could ever imagine yourself living in, there’s a large distance between the two of you as she stands on the steps, the box you left on the doorstep slowly being dotted with falling snow. You left the car running, thinking she wouldn’t want to see you after everything that’s happened.

“Well he probably hates a lot of things about me now,” you say grimly.

It’s been a growing habit to want to feel something, the rush of nicotine through your bloodstream—even if it’s bound to rip years off your life. It doesn’t really matter as much anymore.

I hate a lot of things about me too, you think, remembering a white house on a hill even if it was a distant dream— these thoughts all go up in smoke as you watch her sit down on the stoop waiting for you to come sit down with her.

Your hands fidget as you find a place next to her, putting out the cigarette on the red brick as the ash falls onto your chipped nail polish. It burns, but Annabeth watches you, the both of you stone-faced.

“What made you drive all the way out here?”

She opens the box and tries to hide a shaky breath at it’s contents but the vapor in the air betrays her. You can still tell a thing or two about people acting, but you’re never too sure anymore.

“I got a few days off from class. Dad Iris messaged me, told me there were new kids in 11 who needed bunks, so… he thought it was time. It was sitting in my room when I got there.” She notices you call Mr. D your dad now, but doesn’t say much of it. She’s also getting used to calling her father that after all these years.

You pull out the quilt you gave Luke the night before you got claimed, a faded pink and purple pattern worn from the years of use and wrap it around her shoulders. It still smells like him, citrus and musk and something darker that hangs over your heads and she sniffles.

“So you’re a college girl now, huh? Never thought you’d do it,” Annabeth mumbles, still not looking at you as her eyes scan through what was hidden underneath the fabric. Luke never had much he held close to his heart, and it’s funny to think his two prized possessions were staring down into a box trying to find the meaning of it all.

“Yeah, me neither,” you sigh. It should’ve been an insult, but you know what she means.

Not without him.

There’s a lot that you promised each other, but you find yourself doing it all alone–because you have to. The world does not wait for for anyone, even if you beg for it to.

“It’s not a big deal, I’m still on the Island, just…not at home. Just trying to keep myself busy.”

Her hand picks up a polaroid of the two of them—he’s smiling as she peers over his shoulder.

“I think it’s great. You’re too hard on yourself sometimes.”

Other memories are scattered in the box including a leather bracelet, a compass, unsent letters to his mom, and photos of happier days back when all of your hearts were softer. There’s not much to split between the two of you.

A black clay bead rolls to the inner corner, indicative of this year’s events and painted with turquoise like the eyes of a certain son of Poseidon that now crosses the both of your minds.

“Percy gave it to me before he left for the city, for him. In case.”

You swallow loudly, and you watch her braid it onto the leather cord and tie it around your wrist. Her fingertips are cold as she nods, “In case.”

“You’ve been looking for him, haven’t you?” The movement your head makes is almost imperceptible—not a nod nor a shake, but the daughter of Athena knows you too well by now. She knows you because Luke did too, once upon a time.

“Think I’m trying to find myself now. If he’s still a part of that I don’t know what that says about me.”

The two of you sit there on the stoop of the Chase mansion catching up on the past 7 months even if the both of you can still feel the wall of his memory between you. She doesn’t invite you in to meet her family despite the weather—hesitant to let her mother’s side of life bleed into the new normal she’s created for herself, and you can’t blame her one bit. The both of you have been at war with each other and with yourselves since the end of the summer, when in reality you both know what it’s like to protect the little you have to hang onto and what it feels like to be left behind. Survival mode, until the end.

“Why do you think he did it? I mean, I know why, but…”

Why weren’t we enough?

Annabeth’s mind has always been so brilliant, but sitting in the dim porchlight, you understand now that she’s growing up so quickly. Gone are her baby-soft cheeks, with her cheekbones more prominent as they frame her wise eyes. She’s a teenager now. But Annabeth looks at you like she did long ago, the only person besides Luke who would patiently answer all of her questions. Even if the answers weren’t always what she wanted, you had a way of telling her what she needed to hear.

“I think I’ll be asking the gods why for the rest of my life. And even if they ignore me like they did him, or give me an answer that’s worth the balance of the world, I’ll still never be able to understand it.”

The snow is falling harder now, but neither of you seem to notice. It’s stuck in your hair, dusting your eyelashes as you sit and stare out at the front lawn. She tells you about school, her family, Percy and Grover, and the things you’ve missed about her so deeply—and for a moment you feel like you can be her older sister again, someone who can keep her secrets. Partially, you left home because everyone either doubted you or thought you as fragile. Annabeth always tells you what she’s truly thinking— it’s a breathe of fresh air to let yourself just be.

“I’ve never not had the last word when it comes to him, y’know? I guess I have nothing more to say though.”

You both huddle together for warmth under the quilt, sharing secrets and memories of him, things others wouldn’t understand.

“You know that’s not true,” she scoffs, rolling her eyes, and her smile is as bright as the snowflakes in her ebony tresses.

“What I do know is that you know too damn much,” and you both start giggling softly, teary eyed and feeling what you’ve been keeping in for months now, from each other and the rest of the world.

“I’m sorry,” she mutters suddenly, and your name falling from Annabeth’s mouth sounds almost as unfamiliar as her apologizing. It shouldn’t have to have been like this. You’re not going to lose the only person who remembers him like you do, who hurts like you.

“Me too.”

She leans her head on your shoulder like how she would when you used to sing her to sleep, and deep down Annabeth knows that she won’t let the only good part of her brother go either. What tore the two of you apart brings you back together, because if you don’t have him you still have each other.

The door to the estate opens up slowly, it’s well-oiled hinges silent like the two sad girls’ whispers. Dr. Chase steps out to see you two illuminated by the light of his home, hand in hand over a box of memories and wrapped in a pink and purple quilt that Annabeth will hold close to her like she does her mother’s hat.

“You two ladies causing trouble?” he smiles, his eyes wild with a thirst to know more and it’s a look you’ve seen his daughter give you one too many times.

You can’t help but chuckle at the irony and though he means well, the all-consuming feeling that comes with the name, Luke’s name for you– ignites in your heart once more. No one will ever call you trouble again, not in the way he did. It burns like alcohol running through your veins almost unendurable and you want to will it away, but Annie’s patting your arm as she tries to stifle the flames with her cold fingers.

“Her?” she says knocking her shoulder against yours, “ Always.”

Annabeth laughs, and that too, reminds you of him but it doesn’t hurt as much anymore, your body still warm in the winter Virginia air. You feel your chest shake and suddenly you’re laughing and it’s crazy and loud and maniacal and so you that you can barely see Annabeth through the tears rolling down your cheeks. It cuts around the dead skin that’s encapsulated your being these past few months, revealing something brand new—much softer, even if it’s still tender to the touch.

It’s still you, still hurting, but choosing to live despite it.

Because you have to.

—

“Loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever had to do. Being loved by you is the hardest.“

- Ari B. Cofer

luke taglist (some won't let me tag, turn on my post notifs?): @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko @bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303 @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r @visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri @number-onekidqueen @nininehaaa @bradynoonswife @stevenknightmarc @hoodedhavok @happy-mushrooms @homebyeleven @anotherblackreader @too-deviant @liviessun @lilacspider @theadventuresofanartist @sucker4seresin @simpforsunwoo @zanzie @starrystormwritings

#luke castellan x dionysus!reader #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan angst #pjo x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #made by ma1dita ♥︎#trouble!verse #thank you for reading my love ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

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spidybaby · 8 months ago

Text

Not The Romantic Type | Part Three

Part One | Part Two

"Aren't you nervous?" Fer asks, hands busy helping Pedri fix his smoking. "I'm about to colpase from the excitement."

"I feel like I'm going to cry myself to sleep, but in a bad way, I can't believe that I'm actually on the top three to get this."

If you ask him, only in his dreams, he was able to be on the top three of the most likely to get the ballon d'or.

He improved so much over the years that he worked more on perfecting his game to be able to classifie into the best players.

He remembered the Golden Boy award, Messi won one before winning his ballon d'or. Now he's following into his idol footsteps.

"Mom wants a picture of you on the suit." Fer says as he snaps a picture of him. "Venga, let's go get some food, we still have that meeting with the constructor."

Pedri thank the designer, changing into his normal clothes back to meet the new contractor.

Fer and him are partnering in a restaurant, he trusted his brother as a chef for his whole career. It was obvious he was trusting him with something this big.

"We need an interior designer." The constructor tells them. "I know you have a vision of how you want this to look like. However, I feel that with a little help and more inspiration we can make this amazing."

"Vale, if you think it's what we need, then let's do it!" Pedri says excitedly. "Fer will be the one meeting up with this person since I'll be at the field."

"No problem, I think my girl will be the one. Not that I'm talking bad about the guy, but she's just a star when it comes to modern luxury style."

"Perfecto!" Fer smiles, "Let's meet up with her, I'm so excited."

Pedri was excited about everything, the ceremony in France, the new project, the possible winning of the Champions League.

He was focused on the field and nothing else. That's why Fernando decided to be the caregiver or the project, so Pedri would be all into his element.

The dressing room was euphoric, the players happy about winning the semifinals, they're playing the final at home.

"Visca al Barca" Gavi yells.

"Visca al Barca" they all second.

"And let's all celebrate to our next Ballon d'or, the magician Pedri." Ter Stegen shakes him. "Vamos Pedri!"

They throw all the water they can at him, making him smile and laugh at how much support he has from his friends. His second family.

After the celebration Ferran invited Pedri to a little party he planned. "No lo sé, tiburón. I'm kinda tired and I have to meet with the designer to measure the tux"

"A little party never killed nobody." Ferran insisted, but he denied. He needs rest and peace.

"Vale, pero me lo debes." He hugs him tight. "See you around, pepi."

He drives home, passing in front of the place where the restaurant will take place. He can't help but feel pride, this feels like an extension of their parents' hard work.

Fer was laying on the couch, checking some ideas the ID (interior designer) sent them.

"Hola, tonto." Pedri pulls lightly his brothers hair. "Are those the ideas this girl sent you?"

"Si, look at this, I love this idea she has." Fer pass him the iPad. He sees the ideas, loving all of it. "She's amazing, first thing and I'm already in with everything."

"Yes, this is cool." He checks everything, loving every idea. "When are you meeting her?"

"I think tomorrow." Fer gets up, walking to the kitchen and pulling out food. "But don't worry, I'll update you on everything."

✨️✨️✨️

"So, as you can see here." The constructor pointed to the ceiling. "We thought about lighting that can be dimmed as the sun light goes down."

"My brother and I loved that idea, specially because we have that at home recently installed and I think it will go so well."

"Perfect, our designer will come any minute now, she told me traffic was hectic and she was just a block away but stuck."

"It's okay, I get it. It took me an hour and a half to get here today, so I can't blame her." He laughs, interrupted by his ring tone." Excuse me for a second."

The constructor kept looking at his structure with your design. The sound of heels makes him turn, you were walking fast while holding your iPad and a few more things.

"I'm so sorry, Marc." You apologize, leaving your things on the desk. "I think today is not my day. Is the client mad?"

"Not at all, Y/n." He pats your back. "He's an amazing dude, super relaxed. You will hit it off real quick."

You smile relief. You didn't want to lose this client, specifically because Marc told you they wanted to expand if the first restaurant goes well, meaning you will expand with them.

"Let's meet him them." You nervously giggle. "What's his name again?"

"Fernando, he's a chef."

Before you can even connect the dots, Fer walks into the room, saying goodbye to the person on the line.

"Fernado, so nice you're bac. This is our interior designer, Y/n."

You smile at the sight of him. Haven't seen him since the breakup. He has more facial hair, and he's stronger and definitely more mature looking.

"We know each other." You smile, still surprised at his presence. "We go way back actually."

Fer is as astonishing as you are, opening his arms to greet you into a hug. "It's been a long time no see." He laughs, hugging you tight. "Gosh, I can't believe you're our designer."

"I can't believe you're my clients." You laugh. "Let's leave the talk for later, I want to explain this to you, and then we can use the time."

He nods, letting you explain every part of your ideas. He can't deny that even if it wasn't you, he loves the ideas and can't think of any way to make it better.

You ask him about colors, measurements, textures, and different stuffs you will need to prepare yourself for your work.

"Perfect! We can't say that this meeting was a success." Marc happily says. "I'll keep working while you two chat a little, excuse me." He wayves goodbye while Fer and you say goodbye.

"Entonces," Fer says, picking your side like he used to. "You're a well-known designer." You nod, smiling.

"And you're a well-known chef, Mister González." You laugh. "It's so nice to see you. How have you been?"

"It's been good, I'm older but I think wiser." He hands you your iPad. Helping you with some things. "What about you?"

"I mean, you can tell how I am. I got my dream job and I feel like nothing can go better than this." You shrug.

Fer wants to ask. He needs to ask if you have someone or not, but he doesn't want to intrude into your private life.

"So, how's the family?"

"They're good, nothing to report." You nod. "What about your family? How are Rosy and Fernando? How is the Tasca going?"

You can't help but miss them, specially Rosy, she acted like a mother to you, always worrying about you, taking care of you when you were sick.

"Mom and dad are so good. They are healthy." He smiles at the thought of them. "The Tasca is doing good. This is a little extension of it, but bigger."

"I'm so happy for you, Fer." You hug him, happy about him, making his dream of having his own restaurant come true. "How is Pedri?"

Fer is speechless, he didn't think you will ask about him, not after the way you two ended things.

"Bueno, no le va mal." He laughs. "He's on top three to win the ballon d'or, Barcelona is on the UCL finals, la Liga finals. He's at the top."

You smile, you're happy he is getting all the awards he deserves. He's always been amazing at his job.

"I'm happy for him." You nod. "Even tho I haven't really been aware of the team. I've been busy lately."

"Maybe you can catch up, he's also in this with me." Fer smiles as big as he can "and he's single." He elbow you.

You laugh at this, blushing a little at the confession. You did hear some rumors about him and some girls, deep down wanting for it to be just that, a rumor.

"Don't know why that's important." You giggle, looking down. "We been over for a long time now."

"Well, if you want him back, he's available to be picked."

"Fer." You laugh. "He wouldn't pick me, specially with all the girls he's probably getting." You look away while saying that.

He always got girls, and nobody could deny that. In your mind, they were girls who were hotter than you, prettier than you, more experienced than you.

That was something that made you feel insecure, not that he was engaging with them in any way, he always ignored them or just straight up blocked them.

But you had that little insecure voice from time to time that told you that he had better options and that you needed to step up.

"Don't say that." He says in a serious tone. "You were the best thing Pedri had."

Fer wasn't lying. After you left, Pedri went down a very dark path. He was going out, drinking, bringing girls home.

Everything to make him forget about you. Girls who looked nothing like you, who acted nothing like you.

Girls who went after his money and his fame. They were doing everything they could to show they were with The Pedri from Barcelona.

You on the other side, always made sure to be cautious about not getting recognized. You never wanted the attention that came with being his girlfriend.

You were with him since he was that Canarian guy at Las Palmas, that skinny boy who made it big.

You were there before the fame, before the fans, before the name. But you were his past.

"If you say so." You exhale. "I will send you a virtual look of everything with all of the things you picked."

The change of subject makes Fer think you may not be as interested in his brother as he thought you would be.

Maybe you moved out and didn't want to let it out. Maybe you changed your likes and now you're not up for a footballer.

"Thank you, I'll see you here next time I pass by?"

"You will, I'll be here a lot more."

With a hug goodbye you both walk out to your cars. You wave him as you enter your car, getting a honk from him.

Fer can't even believe the picture he's seeing. He thought Pedri was being honest with him when he said that no more one night stands with random girls whom the club invite to their parties.

He can't help but feel embarrassed about talking to you all this past days about how much Pedri would love to have you back.

But now his little brother is on all the magazines and gossip news of Barcelona and Spain as a taken man by this random influencer who obviously posted more about being at the party.

One part of him can't blame Pedri, he was in a committed relationship since he was sixteen, he obviously went out and went crazy after the break up.

But six years later was a little too much for him to keep his crazy behavior. He had a chance of winning the girl of his dreams back.

Fer can't help but think about you. If you see this news and pictures, you will definitely think all he's been saying is a joke and that he's playing with your feelings.

And how right he was, you can't help but feel anger. He's been spending all this time changing topics to Pedri.

"Pedri was busy but says hello."

"Oh Pedri can't wait to be here to see you."

"When you're back together, I'll be the happiest brother in law you will ever have."

Was he teasing you?

You don't even want to go to work today. You want to call in sick and spend all day in bed thinking about how stupid you are for believing Fernando's words.

But you won't. The breakup didn't stop you back then, and it won't now.

You will walk with your head up, ready to work in your nice outfit. You won't mind, you have so much to lose, he already lost you.

He lost you.

You didn't lose him.

"Buenos días!" You say, giving Marc his favorite coffee order as usual. "Any news I should now?"

"Well, the Calcutta Gold Marble is taking longer than expected but after that nothing to worry about."

You nod, leaving your things at your little station. "As always with Calcutta."

"By the way, Fernando was looking for you. He's outside talking with David." You nod, thanking him and walking to where Fer is.

You know he's about to mention the picture. He can't help it but be so obvious about things. But you will change the subject as much as you can't.

"Hey, boss." You smile "heard you wanted to talk to me."

"Hey, how are you?" He plays with his necklace.

"I'm good. I had a very nice sleep." You smile. "I want to tell you, the Calcutta Gold Marble we picked for the bar area is taking more time. Don't worry about it. That's normal with that material, but just a heads up."

He half smiled, not sure how to approach you. He wants to say sorry. He wants to kick his brother.

"I'm sorry." He spat, can't even think straight due to the blame he feels. "You probably saw the picture and -."

You sigh, not wanting to have this conversation this early. "Fer, let's focus on what we need to focus."

"I just feel like I need to apologize."

"You don't. Let's move to what's important here. Your restaurant."

He understood quickly, not bringing the topic again. That made you relax. Before this project you were fine not thinking about Pedri. You are fine now.

You focus on making this project happen. You wanted Fer to have the best reaction when he sees his project finish.

✨️✨️✨️

"So, are you nervous about tomorrow's match?" The press guy asks him. "It's the finals for the UCL, and then you have to go to France for the Ballon D'or. You have a pretty crazy schedule."

"Bueno, I think I've always had a crazy schedule." He laughs, making the interviewers laugh too. "But I'm not nervous, I trust my team, I have a big trust in all the work we've been doing. We trust out Mister, so to me it's about focusing on staying healthy, making goals and winning."

"Walk us through the process you have for your next trip to France."

"Joder, it's not that much. If I'm honest, I have the tux, have the shoes, have my family, don't think I need anything else."

"Pedri, we got many requests to ask you if you don't walk with a ballon that night, will we see you walking with a special someone?"

He half smile at that question, knowing he fucked up by getting too close to María at the party.

"I don't have a girlfriend. If that's what you're asking." He shrugs. "I'm single. And probably the only lady I will be going to hug during the ceremony and after is my mom. Thank you."

He walks away, mad at himself for allowing this to happen again. He knows this girls just want the hype attached to his name. Specially now, with all the winnings of the club.

"Dude, you okay?" Gavi asks, noticing his frown. "What did they say?"

"They asked if I'm walking out that fucking auditorium with someone, es una putada, I will celebrate the week I don't get linked with some random girl."

Gavi lift his eyebrow. "Si, but the rumors don't just appear." he scuffs and turn to his locker.

"What do you mean?"

"Pedri, you used to be out and about with a different girl every other week. You flew this girl to Manchester. When you came back, you had this other girl in a new hotel. You're doing this to yourself."

He can't even argue because it's true. He did all those things. He flew all these girls. He fucked up his reputation.

"Me cago en la puta." He threw the towel at the inside of his locker. "I just wish I can have some fucking privacy."

"Then don't involve yourself with girls who only care to expose that they're with you." He hits him with his jersey. "Dude, you can go out and find a nice girl who will want a relationship and not just sex and a picture."

He nods, stresses about the topic already. Gavi is right. So is Ferran when he advise him not to mess with every girl that flaunt at him.

And when Fer tries to get some sense into him finding someone to settle to. Someone who will be happy to welcome him after a long day, someone who wants to grow a family with him.

He doesn't want that. Not without you.

He agreed to move out that day when you asked him to be happy, to find someone who would celebrate all his victories.

But he had that. He had you.

He lost you.

The game was about to finish, the extra time about to finish.

The Bayern had a corner. So they have to step up and prevent them from scoring. Just two minutes more and that's it.

"Vale, a ver." He yells, catching up the attention of the players near him. "Marc, just this cover up and the Champion is ours, please catch it." He makes them laugh. "Fermin, cover Davies. Gavi, cover Saliba. I'll cover their number 10."

They all nod, positioning themselves. They were nervous, this was their chance. This was their final chance.

When Marc let the ball go, Gavi was at the right place at the right time. He hit the ball with his feet, making it go out of the goalkeeper area.

Raphinha runs away with it. Getting the ball as far as possible from their area. Just when he's trying to make a assist to Pau, the referee blows the whistle.

Pedri runs to Gavi and Fermin. Hugging them while screaming. The public was as static as they are, cheering for them.

They won. They got the Champions League.

He look over at where his family is, they're screaming and jumping. Everybody is, the whole stadium is.

Running to his parents open arms. He can't help the tears of happiness as he hugs his family.

Feeeeeeeeerrrrrrrrr added to his story

You are happy for him, you can't lie to yourself like you do to other people.

You feel proud, he got everything he ever wanted, he got la liga, he got the Champions and he's probably will get the Ballon.

And he did what you asked him to do. He got himself someone to celebrate all that with. Someone who will make him happy.

The sour taste in your mouth haven't left since you saw that picture of him with that girl at the party.

He left you behind, like you asked him to.

You tried to focus on the work you were doing, turning the tv off to pay more attention.

You can't, your mind goes back to the way things used to be. He made mistakes, and you accepted all those mistakes because you loved him.

While he is at his party, with his family and his new girl. You are trying to forget about the memories of him.

You fix all the things Fer asked you to fix in the design, making the things he wanted as similar as possible as he explained.

You texted him, asking him if he was able to come see you to approve everything so you order the material.

Fer answers you while he opens the door of his home. He was still ashamed about the picture situation. He could sense the change in your attitude before and after that picture.

"I need your help, I don't think I can walk upstairs by myself." Pedri whine, he drank more than he should, making him dizzy.

Fer helps him, carrying him while walking upstairs. "Pedri. You need to help me just a bit."

He feels bad, he doesn't want to celebrate alone. All his teammates with their partners and kids and he's alone.

Yes, he has his parents, his brother, this family and friends. But he needs a hug at night when he gets insecure. He needs a shoulder to cry.

He craves intimacy, not sexual intimacy. He wants to feel secure with someone to the point of trusting all his worries and deepest secrets.

He wants someone to know his family, to sit at his parents' table and have a relationship with them.

"I'm sad," he confess. "Am I allowed to be sad?"

Fer can't even understand where this is coming from. He never saw signs of Pedri being sad or never heard anybody telling him to suck it up.

"Pepi, you can be sad." He reassured him. "Why are you sad? Tell me"

Pedri just shakes his head, not even sure how to approach the topic. "I miss my life back when I was twenty."

Fer understood, his brother carries a lot of responsibility on his shoulders, especially now with the whole <he needs to bring the ballon d'or home just like Messi>

"How can I help you, pepi?"

"If you have a magic wand that can bring me back to when I was happy and didn't have to fuck a girl every night to feel something, please use it."

He frowns, not sure how to reassure his brother. He knew Pedri felt alone. He can tell. He told him off about his sex life.

Not shaming him, but making him understand that the pattern he was following was not healthy at all.

"I can help you by not leaving you alone." He hugs him, pating his back lightly to calm him down. "I'm here, always will."

He helps Pedri take his clothes off and get into bed, he wants to check him in case he feels down again.

Once Pedri is passed out, he tries to plan something, how can he help him?

He picks his phone to text his mom that they're home. He sees the last text he sent is to you. The light bulb on his head turns.

He can help him, he's not with anyone, not that girl at the party and is done with the playtime every other week.

If he asks him to go to the meeting and approve the things you need, you can meet and reconnect.

He just needs his brother to be ready tomorrow to meet you. He knows he still thinks about you, and you might still do the same.

He texts you, asking you to meet at four p.m., by that time his brother will be up and fresh to see you.

Feeeeeeeeerrrrrrrrrr added to his close friends

"I don't even want to be near a drink in my life." Pedri makes a disgusted face, he needs a whole gallon of water.

"Finish the drink so we can go."

The drink looks bad, very bad. Even tho it was just a tea with no sugar. "Maybe I'll just go brush my teeth."

Fer feels excited. He wants his plan to go well. He's anxious but happy. He knows it's about time you two make a move and solve what needs to be solved.

"Vamos, big head." Pedri smack the back of Fer head. "You drive, I can't do nothing yet."

The trip was not as long as usual. The streets were lonely and Fer was driving slowly. He confirmed you were coming before leaving the house.

When he parked, he noticed Marc's car parked in front of the building. To his luck, the parking lot was being modified, so he needed to park in the nearby building.

"Oye, I'll find somewhere to park. There's a little office, white door to the left. Wait for me there."

He does as he's told, walking with his head down. Still feeling the pain from all the drinking he did.

"Hola?" He asks, opening the door a little before entering.

He looks at all the things on the walls, the chair textures, the floor wood, the bar design, the lamps options.

He's in love with all the ideas, with the little real-life version of what the restaurant will look like. With the little pink pen notes the designer left. The door opening can't bother him. Looking at all the planning that they made in so little time.

You can't even blame him, you weren't paying much attention either. Focusing on answering Marc's text about something related to a change that needed to he approved as soon as possible.

"Hola Fer. Sorry I haven't gotten a chance to greet you properly. I've been so busy with all this little things."

You open your bag to search for your iPad, wanting to show him everything quickly to move out and not waste more time.

Pedri turns quickly, the sound of your voice amazes him. You're there after so long. After all this time.

"Hey about the Marble, I think it's best if we just switch the whole piece. This is taking so long." You won't turn, he won't say a word. "Fer?"

The two of you are just standing there, looking at each other, no words in between. Nothing.

Pedri thought a lot about what would happen if he ever saw you again. Definitely all that planning went out the window the second he heard your voice.

You practice too, what if you find him in a bar some day in Barcelona? You wouldn't mind it. But you're minding it very well.

"Hola." You finally say, voice breathless and gone.

His eyes are rooming you up and down. He can't help but point at every little detail that's different about you, different in a good way. You feel the heat coming up your cheeks. He's there, looking more mature, more handsome.

You shake your head, you have one job to do, getting the changes approved to the project move forward.

"Is your brother coming? Because I really need him to approve this for me." You grab your iPad, tying to look uninterested.

"Oh, I can approve it." He extend his hand and you hand him the device. "Just explain to me what this is exactly?"

While you explain every little detail about the changes, showed him how it was before to compare and to see if he likes it.

He likes everything, but there's something about the way you talk, something about the way you smell, you didn't change that perfume you love.

"I like your hair." Your hair is longer. He loves that. You always talked about wanting to let it grow to try new hairstyles.

You smile, the closeness not helping the situation. "Thank you." You say softly.

You might act calm, but from the inside, you're about to burst because of the way he looks. It's a good thing he changed his style.

Also his perfume, he's using the same perfume you gave him once, he didn't change it. And that facial hair is gone, he's shaved and clean.

"Do you like how everything is, or do you want to make any more changes?" You ask, trying to act professional.

"I mean, you're a star. This looks amazing." He praise you. Making you feel a wave of pride. "Fer will love this."

Your smile grows, you're happy he likes the changes. But you like even more the way he's praising you work like never before.

"So how are you?"

You close the iPad, sending Marc an "approval" copy of the digital prototype. "I'm good, been working hard and I've been busy with it." You shrug, not sure what else to say. "Congrats on the UCL, I heard you guys won."

He smiles, winning the game with his two goals was more than he ever expected. "We did, thank you."

"two goals huh?" You tease him. Feeling a little confident.

He rolls his eyes playfully. Laughing at your teasing. "I'm kind of proud of that, I'm in my Messi era? Or something like that."

You both laugh, you missed this, miss having someone to joke to. You back away from his circle, haven't seen his friends since then, when you are in Tenerife you won't go to his parents Tasca.

You missed having someone from your past in Barcelona. Someone who knew you before the city, someone who knew you as well as he did.

"That's great." You pat his arm. "I guess I'll see you around." You walk with him to the entrance. "Tell your brother I'll text him, I still need to show him some things."

"Sure, if not, you can text me. It won't hurt if I get a little more involved." He throws the jab at you, noticing your little lip smile.

"I'll ask your brother to send me your number." You say, stopping in from of the exit door. "Bye." You walk over the construction area, he can't keep his eyes away from you.

When he's out, Fernando is waiting for him in his car, the smile he has, knowing what he did. He acts as if nothing happened, he couldn't find parking and wait for you.

"Hey, was everything looking good?"

Pedri scuff, shaming his head while smiling. "Hijo'puta" he jokes, hitting him in the head. "You didn't told me she was here"

"I wanted to surprise you."

"Joder, she looks beautiful. Her smile hasn't changed at all, and her eyes, mierda, are shining like crazy."

Fernando is happy hearing Pedri talk about you, he haven't seen him this happy in a long time. Haven't talk about anyone like this in a long time.

"Her perfume, Dios mio. She hasn't changed that perfume, the same since we met." He's still rambling about you. "You didn't tell me, why?"

"I thought it was for the best, plus you were finding out once you started coming."

"Would it be crazy if I confess that I might be in love still?"

The smile on their faces is comical. Fer knew he never forgot you, and Pedri was just admitting it out loud.

"No." He laughs. "You have one more chance, dude. Don't blow it."

And he doesn't.

Every chance he gets now, he will visit the place. He will be there even tho there's nothing of interest happening.

He loves making small talk with you. Having you explain everything you do or everything you order.

It's weeks and weeks of him doing this, bringing you a coffee or drink every time. You can't help but smile at him, still remembering your order of drink.

Also if he has training in the evenings, he will bring you something to eat for lunch. Worrying because you don't give yourself a little break. In his words.

"This is what I was telling you the other day. If you put this on the bar, it will look better than this other one." You show him, thinking he's playing attention.

"Let me take you out on a date."

You smile, not sure what to say. You want to accept, you still have feelings for him. But you don't want to feel what you used to feel when you were with him.

"Please, I know a place you would love."

"Pedri, I don't think it's a good idea. We are working together and if this doesn't go well its just going to be awkward for us."

"It will not, please just give me a chance." he beggs, grabbing your hands. "If you don't like it or you don't feel good I promise I will back off."

His hands on yours, thumbs caressing your fingers. You want to say no, not repeating the pattern. But you want to give him the chance his asking.

"Vale, but you have to promise me that you won't wear those ugly skinny jeans."

He laughs, he knows how much you used to hate those kind of jeans. Always asking him to let you into his closet to get rid of them.

"If you want to you can dress me, I'll be Ken and you can style me all the way."

You shake your head no while laughing, "I don't think you'll like me throwing half your closet."

If you had. A chance back then, those Jean shorts and skinny jeans were a must in the out of the closet list.

"Let's go tonight, I'll pick you up and everything."

You nod, writing your address in a pink post it. Thing that make him smile, you loved leaving little notes for him everywhere in his house or car.

"pick me up by 8?" You ask, making him nod. "Te veo entonces." You kiss his cheek goodbye.

You do your best work trying to act normal. When you're on your car you let a big scream. You were excited.

It's been six years, obviously it was nerve breaking.

You hurry home, you have time to calmly change and get ready. You picked a nice outfit, nothing too casual or too formal. The perfect middle point.

You have a long everything shower. Making sure to be as smooth as possible. It's not like you're thinking about doing anything but just to be sure.

Pedri was doing basically the same thing, making sure everything is clean and nice for the night.

He even make sure his car is in neat condition, asking Fer to go to a car wash to get it ready.

"You look fine, niño." Fer reassure him again. "vete ya, or you'll be late."

"Deseame suerte."

"You don't need it, just don't fuck this up and you'll be fine." Fer laughs.

You pass around your livingroom, you boots heel making a sound with every strep. You wanted this to go well.

The doorbell made you freeze. You check mentally if everything is good. Check yourself on the little mirror before opening the door.

"Hola, guapa."

"Hola." You blush a little at the compliment. "What is this?"

He hands you the small bouquet of your favorite flower. "A little souvenir from me, to you."

You small at the little game of words, you taught him that. Every time you got him something you used to say that to him.

You like how he tries to fix the past by not making the same mistakes, he bought you flowers, like you say you wanted back then.

"Gracias, get in, I'll put them on water."

He checks your house, he can't deny that he loves your taste, always did. You have a beautiful house.

His eyes land on a specific blanket, he gifted you that on your second anniversary. He remembered that you wanted the blanket and since he was winning some money on Las Palmas. He went out and got it for you.

"You still have this?" He caresses the material. Memories of how happy you were when you got the gift.

You check what he was talking about, smiling a little when you see what he means. "I do. I love that blanket." You grab your bag and stand next to him. "Plus, I usually watch movies or take naps on the couch, so it's the perfect location."

You walk to your door, making him follow you. "I didn't think you had it still."

"That means you don't have any of the gifts I've ever given you?" You joke, knowing most of the things you gave him were clothes.

He thinks for a second, he does have a ring you gave him for his birthday, he loves that ring. Or the bracelet with an eight engraved.

"I do." he smile, he had everything you gifted him. "I have the ring you gave me when I turned eighteen."

When you walk to the car you see a black Lexus. "Where is the Porsche?" You ask as he opens the door for you.

"Had to upgrade a little bit."

You see a crazy clean car, smelling fresh. You laugh a little, he was never this clean with his car.

The drive to the place was confortable, he asked you about your past works and you asked him about football. The usual.

Dinner was fine, you did liked the place and the food. He was right about it. He even ordered dessert and acted as if the waitress had forgotten the other one just to share it with you.

"It was amazing, thank you very much." You say, turning back to face him as you reach your front door. "I had so much fun"

He steps closer to you, hands on your waist. "That means this is me winning my chance with you?"

Your breathing accelerates. His closeness is making things to you. The tip of his nose is touching yours. You nod at his question, unable to say something.

He smiles, he can tell by your accelerate breathing and the way your hands are on his arms that you don't mind him being this close.

He lay his head on your shoulder, hands on your back and thumbs caressing your sides. Your hands roam his arms. Scratching lightly.

"You have practice tomorrow." You say as you finally get some sense back into you. "And it's getting late."

"I think they will be fine without me there. I just won us the UCL."

His breathing on your neck is tempting. But you want to take things slowly, you want to take baby steps with him.

"I don't." You try to think of an excuse on why he can't stay. "I don't have an extra toothbrush."

He laughs, understanding the message. He wants to go slowly too, proving that he's not the same one who hurt you.

Plus, you are not one of his one night stands, he doesn't want you to feel like one. "Oh no! That means I have to go home." He kiss your collarbone and pull away from you.

You fix a piece of his hair, hand on his arm, securing yourself. "I like your hair like this." Your nails brush his hair. Making him close his eyes at the sensation.

"I'll come see you after training." He pulls away from you. "I really want to take you out again, I missed this."

"I would love that." You kiss his cheek goodbye. Entering you house and waving him a quick goodbye.

The whole trip home was him and his mom on the phone. He always trusted Rosy with anything, her and his father were the first people he calls when something good or bad happens.

He's mad, throwing his phone on the coffee table next to him.

He doesn't understand how people get to judge him based on things that are not related to football. On the field, he does the work. He makes sure he does assists, he even got some goals like the two of the last game.

He's good, he won't say otherwise. It took him so much effort to admit that he's as good as everybody else and saying he's not is unfair to his work and progress.

"Don't mind the things people say on the internet about you."

"I can't help it. Those random dudes on x saying things about me as if they know me."

"Their opinion don't matter." You pull him by the shoulders. He lays on top of you, hiding his face on the crock of your neck. "Don't let a random person affect your day."

You two have been seeing each other for three months, he makes sure to always go check on you after or before practice.

Always bring you something, some flowers, some coffee or a drink. Something to eat. Named it, and it'll be there.

He loves how much you two progress, and you love how much he showed you he changed, how much different he is from who he was back in the day.

"Don't go to work today, stay with me." He pouts.

You smile, nails scratching his scapl. "I have to go, either way your brother will be blowing my phone with questions and worries about every other thing."

"Block him." He jokes, knowing that Fernando was a perfectionist and wants this project to be as perfect as possible. "Seriously do." He kiss your shoulder before getting off of you.

"If I do I'll be fired." You joke back.

He makes a face. "They can't fire you. I'll get you back in." kissing your lips as he hugs your waist, head on your lap. "I don't want to do anything today."

Your fingers scratch his head, trying to calm him down. "I'll be here later, we can watch something on tv."

He nods, loving the feeling of your hands on his hair. Calming down from his frustration. He missed that, the level of confort, not needing to hide to feel intimacy, he missed feeling happy with a girl.

"I wish I could stay, but right now, I'm the one who calms your brother down when he gets perfectionist with every little detail." He understood, enjoying the feeling of being in your arms.

✨️✨️✨️

"Am I crazy or are the lights way too yellow?" Fer asks, judging every little detail he feels is wrong. "And the material, do you think is okay?"

You wanted to laugh, this was a very common thing with clients, they all freak out with the progress.

"Fernando, please don't worry. I promise this would look amazing in a few weeks when things are more placed and organized."

He nods, going to question Marc about something he thought was not right. You move to your office, wanting to organize your things.

You answer Pedri's text, and he told you he was bored and lonely without you. You laugh and answer with a picture of your messy desk.

You hear a knock on your door. "Can I come in?" When you see who it is, your eyes light up.

"Oh my God! Hello." You say happily.

"How are you, nena? I missed you."

"I've been good, working like crazy. You know me, kinda workaholic." You laugh. "How are you? How's Fernando and how's the Tasca doing?"

"We're fine, the Tasca is doing great, a lot of people. You need to go back and pay us a visit." Rosy says, taking a seat next to you. "Fer told me you were working with them, I'm so happy for you."

You love Rosy, she was like a mother to you. She took care of you when you needed it. She cooked for you, she went to your high school graduation when your family couldn't.

She was special to you, really loved her like a family, the same with Fernando. They were family.

You got away from them after the breakup, you needed space and so did Pedri. You thought that invading his space by being near his family was wrong. That's why when you were on Tenerife you didn't went out to see them.

"I am, I didn't know it was them when I got into the project. I'm happy I did. I've missed them."

You talk for a while about different topics, mostly her telling you about all the things that happened all this years.

You also told her about your years, how you ended up with this job and how it was. It was nice to have the talk you two had.

"I missed you, I miss my daughter." She confess. You smile at that. You missed them too.

"I missed you too, sorry I didn't come back to your place. I thought it was the right thing to do after the breakup."

"I get it." She grabs your hands. "Pedri also told me that you guys were trying to see if things work out again."

You smile, nodding. "We are, I feel like we both want that and I feel this is the right thing to do."

"I hope it works out for you two, I want my girl back." She hugs you.

You two talk a little more until Fer went looking for his mom. You grab your things and walk with them to the entrance. You all say goodbye to Marc, asking him to text or call you if he needs anything.

You say goodbye to them, saying that you will call Fer to meet up for lunch on another occasion.

✨️✨️✨️

"Do you want a little smoothie?" You ask Pedri as he walked downstairs. "I made a banana and strawberry one."

He nods, walking over to you. He wraps his arms around your waist, kissing your shoulder and your neck.

"I have training at two." He says in a raspy voice. "And I have to pack, will you help me, preciosa?"

You nod, passing him a glass with smoothie. You kiss his forehead and fix his hair a little. "We can work on your luggage after training. I have a meeting and I can't keep missing work." You bop his nose.

He smirks, he knows you work hard, but you have been missing some days of work thanks to him. You didn't have that much problem since they were the one who hired you, and Marc was okay with your working from home.

"I'll pick you up after practice." He smile, kissing you. "I'll get us some food and we can watch your favorite movie while you help me."

You both enjoy your smoothies, talking a little about different topics. Not caring about anything else but each others company.

He planned to ask you to go to the ceremony with him in Paris, he wanted you there, he needed you as much as his family there.

He went to practice, the technical team and his teammates organized him and Gavi a little celebration for good luck.

"I need to know what cream this dude is using because those bags under his eyes disappeared in no time." Raphinha jokes. Hugging him.

They are all in the bathroom, having a chat while getting clean and fresh to go home.

"He's using vitamin love." Ferran jokes from the bathroom. "He's a lover boy now."

They all hit Pedri's head while congratulating him about being in love. He enjoys the messing.

"Venga, this is not a crazy new." He says, fixing his hair.

"It is." Fermin says, hitting the back of his head. "You were the whore of the group and Ferran is here, take that in."

"Mira capullo, I'm a saint." Ferran yells.

"Joer', it was not that bad." He tried to justify himself.

"It was." Gavi says. "That why we are happy that you have a stable relationship. With someone you love and who loves you." Gavi hugs him. Making all the others hug him too.

After the shower chat, he left looking for some flowers, looking for some fresh food from your favorite place, your favorite dessert.

He knocks on your door. When you open, you're greeted by a big bouquet of flowers, you smile taking them from him.

"Hola." He smiles. "You look so pretty." He close the gap between you two kissing your lips. "I have our dinner in the car, ready to go?" You nod, putting your flowers in a pot before leaving with him.

Your relationship has improved, you love the effort he's making.

When you broke up, you told him he didn't have time for you, that he never gave you flowers, he never cared for you to feel like you matter to him.

He wants to change that. He wants you to feel validated, and he wants you to feel loved. Because he loves you and would change a thing about you.

"I have a little something for you." You say, picking the little box and putting it in your purse. "Let's go, guapo."

He asks about it, questioning you about the content inside the box. You told him that he has to wait until later to find out.

When you two arrive at his house, you help him with his bag. Talking about something you saw on tv the other day.

"I forgot to tell you, Gavi and Ferran say hi." He says as you walk into his room. Food in hand. "And Ferran wants to know if you can unlock him on Instagram." He laughs.

You laugh with him, promising you will do it later. You left your phone charging downstairs, so he had to wait.

"Do you know what you want to take?" You ask him, your eyes fixed on the screen as you search for your movie. "It's cold, and you have to have some outfits just in case. What if you got an outing that needs something formal?"

He nods. "I have a list on my phone of what I want to take, some cargos, a bumper jacket, the suits are being taken by Dolce."

He pulls a luggage, opening it on the bed so you can help him pick the clothes and help him with organizing.

It was a fun time. You ate while organizing and feeding him most of his food to help him some more.

"Oye." He calls your attention. "I want to speak with you about something."

You nod, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. He was standing in front of you. "Tell me."

He takes a deep breath. He needs to be prepared for a bad answer in case you don't feel comfortable with the invitation.

"I want you to know that no matter what, you can say no, and I'll be okay with that." He began saying. "I want you to come with me to the ceremony." He says.

He takes a few more breaths. Trying to prepare himself for the question. "I want you to come with me and my family. I want you all there. My mom, my dad, Fer, and you." He grabs your hands. "The thing here is, I know our relationship is not established as in right now, but I want to know if you would like to come with me as my girlfriend."

You smile. Thumbs caressing his hands.

You need to talk with him before compromising yourself again.

Yes, he did progress. Yes, he did change. Yes, he was better.

But you can't swipe things under the rug. You can't be one of those who start over without making peace with the past.

"Can you sit down with me?"

He nods, taking a seat next to you. He thinks you're saying no, preparing himself for that.

"I want to talk to you." You began. "Before answering your questions, I need you to compromise with me on something."

He nods, already agreeing with whatever you want to say.

"I need you to compromise and tell me if you ever feel like what we have is bothering you. If what we do is making you question our relationship. I want you to be honest with me. To trust me and to be straightforward with how you feel and how I make you feel."

He's surprised, he thought he was getting bad news but no.

"If we are doing this again, Pepi, talk to me." You giggle. "I want your honesty, I want your opinions, I want the long run with you. But I need a compromise." You grab his hands. "I'm not getting younger, I want a family, I want someone to come home to after a long day, after a sad day or just after work. Someone to spend my weekends with watching something or reading a book. And if you can't do that or simply just don't want to. It's okay." You smile at him. "Just be honest."

He frees his hands, grabbing your cheeks and kissing you. "I promise you that I will be the most honest person you'll ever know." He smiles. "I promise that you never were a bother and never will. I want the same as you, I want everything."

You hug him tightly. Sitting on his lap as his hands roam up and down your back.

It felt right. It felt necessary.

You finally got your past to be friends with your present.

"Now about what I asked, if you could answer." He says, giggling a little.

"Yes, to everything." You kiss his lips.

"Also about the gift?" He asks, curious.

"Yeah, you'll wait more than just a few minutes." You say, caressing his cheeks. "But I'll be worthy."

✨️✨️✨️

"Do I look fat in this tuxedo?" Fer asks.

Everyone in the room takes a look at him, questioning if it was the nerves of the situation or if he was serious.

"No." His father says, he wanted to laugh but kept it.

They continue helping with getting ready, leaving soon after everything seems under control.

Pedri and you were alone, finishing with your clothes and looks for the gala. You reassure him that his tux and hair looked good.

"Amor, everything will go the way it is supposed to go." You kiss him quickly. "Trust yourself."

He nods, hugging you to calm his nerves. He can't deny that he's not feeling as confident as he says in the news or interviews.

A knock on the door makes you separate. "Pedri, ready?" His manager asks.

He nods, taking a last look of himself in the mirror. When he's about to leave, your eyes caught the glare of the little box in the nightstand.

"Wait, your gift." You say, walking to the furniture and grabbing the box to take it to him. "Open it before we leave."

You were excited for him to see what's inside. You kept it a surprise until today, knowing he would be less nervous like this.

"How?" He asks, taking the tux bow out of the box. He recognized the piece. "I thought I lost it."

You smile. The bow has a meaning for him. He bought it before leaving to play for Las Palmas. He spent a good part of his savings on it.

"You told me, before leaving the island, that this was the bow you were going to wear when you got your first ballon d'or." You help him with taking the bow he has on and putting the new one in place. "And tonight, this is happening."

He feels his eyes getting teary. He can't help but think about his little self buying the bow at the local shop.

He knew back then that no matter what, he was going to work hard to get into that nominations and into the podium.

And he did.

"Te amo." He kiss you quickly. "Ahora vamos por ese jodido balón." He laughs, making you laugh. (I love you. Now let's go get that damn ballon)

pedri

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8,566,730 others

pedri De las mejores noches de mi vida ❤️

Thank you Culers for all the love and support. Without you, this wouldn't be happening. This is not only mine but yours too ❤️

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fcbarcelona Our winner 🏆❤️💙

ferrantorres grande hermano ❤️8️⃣🐐

leomessi felicidades Pedri 🐐 bienvenido al club de campeones 💪🏻

🏷: @gadriezmannsgirl @mbappe-pedri @coco6514 @coco657 @gavisfanta @jajajhaahaha @urmotheris @dessxoxsworld @girlidekanymore @lanussysworld @largavidaalsol

#football #football fanfic #pedri #pedri gonzalez #pedri x reader #football angst #football x you #football drabble #pedri x y/n #pedri gonzalez imagine #pedri imagine #pedri gif #pedri angst #pedri smut #pedri x you #football smut

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sweetsreverie · 1 year ago

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Saviors

while walking home after dark, the gang comes to your rescue after a group of socs jump you. pairing: outsiders gang x f!reader wc: 1,537 warning(s): assault, blood, allusions of intent to SA

You had spent the majority of the afternoon at the library working on a project before you left in the evening. It was dark by the time you left, and while you knew better than to walk home by yourself, you didn’t want to inconvenience anyone by calling your parents or any of the guys in the gang.

So you start walking home, and in an attempt to give yourself some peace of mind, you grab your house keys and clutch them in your hand. You wished you carried a blade on you.

Your walk home was fine until you were only three blocks away from your house. That’s when you saw headlights shining from behind you, and you heard a car engine; a white corvair was soon in your periphery, and there were three boys inside, around your age if not a little older.

“Hey grease!” One shouts from the window, and you try your best to ignore them as they shout obscenities at you.

“Broad’s ignoring us. Look.” One comments as they pull up the car closer to the curb, and they steadily drive beside you.

“Hey! You’re too pretty to be with those greasers all day. Let me show you a good time, huh?”

You couldn’t help but feel panic as they continued to follow you. There really wasn't anywhere to run or hide. There was an alleyway nearby that led to a dead end.

When the car came to a stop, that’s when you started booking it. You take off in a full sprint and listen to the three pairs of footsteps rapidly approaching you from behind. One of the boys reaches out and grabs the top handle of your backpack and yanks on it, and the force sends you to the sidewalk on your back. It knocks the wind out of you and that’s when one of the boys pins you down to the pavement, and the other two stand above you with sinister grins on their lips. You were powerless under his weight, no matter how much you kicked.

“You know, we wouldn’t be here if you had just stopped to talk with us, hm? Now look where we are.” The brunette kneeling on you says, and his knees dig into your arms that were pinned to the sidewalk.

“Just let me go- please, I won’t tell anyone-” You stammer, and he shakes his head while making a tsk tsk sound.

“I think it’s too late for that now. It’s late and everyone’s in for the night, so there’s no one to bother us.” He says before he looks up at the other two, and without another word, the three of them begin to drag you into the nearby alleyway. You kick and scream, making any and all attempts to escape from their iron grasps.

“Shut up! Shut your trap!” The blond shouts as you’re pushed to the ground again, and it was his turn to taunt you while the brunette and redhead watched. He reaches behind him and pulls out a switchblade, flicking it open and holding it in front of your face.

“Now you be quiet. Or I’ll skin you right here.” He warns you while he puts his hand over your mouth, and by now your vision is blurry from the tears that were welling up in your eyes.

You came to realize that you were fully at their mercy. If one of them had a knife, the chances were good that they all did. They were bigger and stronger than you, and if you didn’t want to be left for dead on the sidewalk, you had to be careful. You knew what happened to Johnny.

“You know, it’s a shame when pretty girls like you hang out with greaser trash.” He says while he moves his knife down, trailing the tip of the blade down your chin and chest, and his smirk grows.

“A lot of greaser broads are skanks. You don’t seem like it though.” He comments, and as his knife moves closer to the belt on your jeans, your brain goes into fight or flight mode.

“Let me go!” You screech, and you kick your legs as hard as you can to try and free yourself. You land a kick to the blond’s leg, and he grunts in pain while the brunette reaches down and grabs your ponytail with one hand, and he lands a hard smack on your cheek with the other. Your cheek began to burn from the impact immediately, but that didn’t stop you from fighting your way out of their grasp. The redhead whips out a knife from the pocket of his letterman jacket and flips it open, and he grabs you by the neck and holds the blade up to your jaw.

“Please let me go- please-” You cry as he presses the cold metal into your skin, making a small slice into your jaw. You felt weak from fighting them and your throat was beginning to hurt.

Your attention was taken from them when you heard another voice shout from the other side of the street.

“Hey! Get your ass out of our side of town!”

It was Dallas. You’d honestly never been so glad to hear his voice.

“Shit- get outta here!” The brunette says quickly, and they pretty much drop you to the pavement while they scramble back to their car. You turn onto your side and curl up, but you hear multiple sets of footsteps shuffling around. The tires on the corvair screech as they peel away, and you’re relieved.

When you turn to look, you see Dally, Johnny, and Two-Bit approaching you.

“Holy shit- Y/N is that you? Are you okay?” Two-Bit says quickly as the three of them jog closer to you, and Dally stands nearby while Johnny and Two-Bit crouch beside you. One would think that he didn’t care, but you knew he did. He just didn’t show it like the others.

“I’m okay-” You say meekly, and Two-Bit tilts your chin up so you’re looking at him. The blood on the cut was beginning to clot, your cheek was still red, and your eyes were a little red from tears.

“They cut you?” Dally asks, and you nod slightly. Dally grunts under his breath.

“You’re okay kid. C’mon, let us get you to Darry’s place and clean you up, alright?” Two-Bit suggests. The Curtis house was closer than your own home, and it was a good idea to get cleaned up before you see your parents.

Two-Bit and Johnny help you up to your feet, and Two-Bit takes your backpack and slings it over his shoulder as the four of you begin to walk.

“Where were you so late, Y/N?” Johnny asks, and you sigh.

“I was at the library. I’ve got a history project due soon.” You explain, and he nods.

“You could have called any of us, kid. One of us could have picked you up or walked with you.” Two-Bit comments.

“I know, I just… I didn’t wanna put anyone out.” You mumble. “Where were you guys at?” You ask them, and Johnny rolls his eyes.

“Dally took us to the nightly double. We only got through one of the movies before we had to leave, thanks to Dal.” Johnny explains, and Two-Bit laughs. You didn’t even need an explanation to know that Dally probably stirred up some trouble, and it wouldn’t be a surprise if Two-Bit helped him.

The four of you walk for a few minutes before you arrive at the Curtis’ house, and as soon as you walk in, you see Pony and Soda on the couch, and Darry was in his chair reading the newspaper. Once the three of them turn and see you, they get up from their seats quickly. Darry’s the first one to approach you.

“What the hell happened? Did you get jumped?” He asks, and you nod while you move over to the couch to sit down since Pony had motioned for you to move over.

“I was comin’ home from the library. They pulled over and grabbed me.” You mumble, and Soda disappears into the kitchen and comes back with a bag of frozen vegetables. He hands it to you and you silently thank him with a nod before you hold up the cold bag to your cheek.

“How deep is that cut?” Ponyboy asks, and you shrug while you reach up to touch it.

“Not very. It stopped bleeding pretty quick.” You explain, and Darry nods while he moves to sit back down in his chair while the others find places to sit. In a way, Darry saw you as his kid sister. You were a little older than Pony, and you became good friends with the boys quickly. Darry saw you as one of their own.

Dally stands beside the couch and against the wall, his hands stuffed in his pockets.

“Glad you’re okay, kid. Just call one of us if you’re alone like that again.” Dally says, and he reaches down to nudge the top of your head slightly. You couldn’t help but smile slightly at the gesture. Maybe he does show that he cares.

#the outsiders #the outsiders x reader #the outsiders oneshot #the outsiders one shot #the outsiders imagine #the outsiders fic #the outsiders fanfiction #ponyboy curtis x reader #dallas winston x reader #johnny cade x reader #sodapop curtis x reader #darry curtis x reader #steve randle x reader

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m4rried2the-moon · 6 months ago

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( pick a cup ) what do your guides want you to know?

hello again !! hope this finds you well ^^ trying to post more consistently but having trouble with questions so i kept this one simple! with an exciting summer ahead, here are some messages from your guides! take what resonates and listen carefully to your intuition.

pile one - a dark cup of joe

“ time to wake up ! ”

+ ten of swords, king of rods (rx?) (cl: king of coins, ace of coins), seven of swords (cl: queen of wands)

— your guides want you to know that what is ending is only the beginning. it's important for you to trust your new ideas and divine inspirations right now, because there is some sort of fatality fast approaching for you. this is not entirely negative, it may be a long time coming actually.

☕ for some of you, they are almost yelling at you /lh. the king of rods possibly in reverse tells me that if you are thinking about taking action else right now—don't. if this action is to break away from something that you think isn't working, hold your horses !

☕ this may very well be a test of patience. clarified by the ace and the king of coins tells me that you are starting a new project/have received a blessing and instead of nurturing and taking it at face value, you may be unsure.

☕ lastly, the queen of rods came first and the seven of swords came flying out after. what you put your energy into is what you get, no matter what. it's easy to rob yourself of this opportunity by thinking it's false or all in your head—spirit says 'take the damn cup' lol.

pile two - an aromatic cup of tea

“ let it warm your soul and strengthen you ”

+ two of swords (cl: four of cups, strength), the sun (cl: the star) and ten of cups (rx?) (cl: the world).

— your guides want you to know that a very tough decision of yours has already found its answer, but you may not have fully accepted it. it will take a significant amount of bravery to face this, perhaps it requires some meditation and strength to reach this hard truth but your strength will carry you. it already is.

☕ rejoice in pleasure, in the novelty of what you have been inspired by. let this hope pour into you, let it guide you to doing exactly what you need to do. your guides want to encourage you to go after your creative pursuits and to use the downloads you've been receiving from them. some of you may have struggled for this clarity and spirit wants you to run with it!

☕ you know your answer to what no longer serves you now, but what will you do with it? happiness and bliss show up for you when you acknowledge that even if your circumstances are discouraging right now, you have the answer you need. your guides want you to let go of juggling unnecessary responsibilities while you can for now. this may look like saying 'no' to what may drain you or take focus away from your vision of the future.

☕ lastly, your guides want you to gather as much as your wisdom and strength you can and build the courage to fight back against what you are so defeated by right now. they want you to know that there are gifts and celebrations at the end of the finish line, you have it in you and the world is at your disposal.

pile three - ah damn! spilled the coffee

“ no use crying ! ”

+ five of wands, (cl: king of wands, the fool) two of cups (cl: the chariot), ace of coins

— you guides want you to use your leadership and direction to navigate the challenges or conflict you may be facing right now. if you are currently finding yourself in the midst of chaos, take your own way out! look for a new direction, the opportunity is ripe!

☕ there is a connection that you are in right now that may be new, this could be a gateway to something very powerful. the chariot here tells me that this may have taken a lot of effort to get to this place, but now is the time to embrace it and let it flourish. or this could be after a period of hardship.

☕ might say some of you are more similar to pile two in which you are leaving what no longer serves you, too. some of you could have used this determination and divine guidance to move out of a relationship that wasn't working. some of you are moving away from a shabby relationship into a more fitting one. either way your guides are urging you to move on from unrequited relationships.

☕ lastly, if you are either moving away from a poor partner/job/choice, you are ultimately being given a second chance if you choose to explore and find better. there are always more fish in the sea!

hope this helped and you got everything you needed! if so, please don't forget to like / reblog <3

#pick a card #pick a picture #tarotblr #tarot reading #pick a pile #manifesation #tarotcommunity #law of assumption #law of attraction #law of manifestation

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milswrites · 8 months ago

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The Sweetest Company

~ Azriel X Reader

Summary: When opening your new bakery doesn’t bring as much success as you’d have hoped, Azriel comes to save the day.

Warnings: Like the teeniest bit of angst but it's mainly just fluff :)

The day had finally arrived, one that had been weeks in the making. After long painstaking days filled with re-decorating the crumbling building you had purchased and perfecting the art of baking your recipes, the time had finally come for you to open the doors and share your passion with the rest of the world.

You'd poured your entire heart and soul into this project, spending the last of your savings to make sure that the final result would be everything you had ever dreamed of.

It wasn't just you, of course, who worked tiresomely at making sure that the bakery reflected your vision. After encouraging you to take the leap and pursue your childhood dream, Azriel had stepped up to help with the refurbishment. Spending the rare hours he had free from work with you getting things ready, reassuring you that this big change had been the right decision.

By no means was this an easy move to make. Whilst baking had always been a hobby of yours, you had never once done it in a professional setting, let alone own running your own business. But Azriel had been your guardian angel, never failing to let you know just how proud of you he was and how pleased the male felt at the fact you were finally sharing your joy with the world.

Which is why after the months of working together to create your dream, you were starting to panic over the fact Azriel had yet to arrive on what was perhaps the most important day of your life.

His absence was as difficult to miss as a hole in your heart. The cruel silence of your empty bakery tormenting you as you told yourself he would be here any minute now. That anyone would be here.

A tediously long two hours had passed without a single customer, and without Azriel there to comfort and reason with you, your anxious thoughts were running wild.

What if you forgot to send out the advertisements? Whilst you remember going round all the other shops in Velaris handing out flyers, what if the keepers laughed behind your back before disposing of them?

What if the one thing you had dreamed of since you were a child had always been destined to fail before it ever even got the chance to open?

It was difficult to keep your tears at bay as you patiently waited for a customer to arrive. Your eyes stinging with tears as you moved to sit down on a chair at one of the empty tables, anxious hands coming to rub together on your lap. Failing to hide the way your gaze filled with hope whenever you watched someone pass by, only for your stare to turn to disappointment as they walked away from your bakery without so much as a glance in your direction.

When three soul-crushing hours had passed still customer-free, and Azriel had yet to make an appearance, you decided enough was enough for one day.

There was only so much embarrassment you could take and with the exhaustion of waking up early to prepare the goods for the day starting to creep in, you made to lock the door and leave to go home and wallow in your defeat.

Turning your back to the window as you allowed your tears to finally fall at the prospect that maybe Azriel didn't turn up because he knew today was going to fail.

Though it was only when you began to pack away your things in the back room of the bakery that you heard a hurried knock at the door. Wiping the silvery tears from your cheeks you composed yourself, opting to take a moment to calm down and gather your wits before moving to answer the door.

However, luck didn't appear to be on your side today as another round of incessant banging broke the silence of the bakery. Frustrated at the rotten day you've had, the impatience of the person outside aggravated you. Curses spilled out from under your breath as you moved through the bakery to the door.

Only to be stunned into silence as you saw who it was waiting for you outside.

Azriel had come.

Tears released from your eyes once more at the joyous realization that Azriel hadn't come alone. No, the male was surrounded by his beaming family and friends, all craning to get a good luck at what was waiting for them inside the bakery.

Even as you turned the latch, your words still failed to come. Your lost ability to speak not returning even as Azriel swept you into his arms, the male pulling back to take in your reddened eyes and trembling lips.

"What happened?" he blurted in concern, cupping your face in his large hands as his searching gaze found your eyes, "Did something go wrong? Why weren't you open?"

You let out a teary chuckle at his worried flurry of questions, moving your shaky hands to grip his own. "I'm perfect. . .it's perfect Az" you promise, because it was impossible to be anything else when the male had brought his entire family along to share in this special day with you. Your heart pleasantly aching with the realisation that he cared enough about this to want to bring them with him.

"Great!" Azriel smiled so widely that his teeth were almost bared, "Better get to it then, we've got customers to serve!"

It was a beautiful chaos, serving Azriel's over eager family. The tables no longer sat empty and the creeping silence had dissipated. Instead the room was filled with satisfied groans and merry conversation. Each member of his family coming back again, and again, and again. All wanting to try a slice of everything you had to offer.

The presence of the High Lord visiting your establishment certainly didn't go unnoticed, pools of willing customers flooded into your shop all with the goal of trying the food that Rhysand was so openly enjoying. Taking their fill of your goods until all the tables were filled and all the evidence of your hard work this morning was gone. The only sign that anything was once there being the smiling face of satisfaction which was worn by everyone in the room.

A slightly red-cheeked Azriel approached you, the male almost panting with exhaustion after helping you with the final rush, that same charming smile taking its place on his face as he spoke, "I think we may need to find you a few new helpers."

"I think I'm going to need to bake more" you laughed in return. Your anxieties from earlier in the day having melted away, a warming smile had now settled on your face in its place.

"Damn" Azriel cursed, a pout forming on his lips as he stared at the empty displays which were once lush with pastries and cakes, "I forgot to put something to the side for me to try. . .If only Cassian didn't eat all the cookies."

"Actually," you grin up at the disappointed male, "I may have something for you!"

You reach under the counter, pulling out a cake which you had meticulously decorated with blueberries. Azriel's eyes grew wide, yet despite his surprise his lips grew into small smirk. "You made this especially for me?" he asked, carefully taking the cake from your waiting hands to admire it.

"A thank you, for helping me achieve my dream. Maybe now we can start working on one of yours instead" you replied, words failing to express just how grateful you were to the male before you. Overwhelmed by just how incredible this opening had turned out to be, all thanks to him.

"I already have everything I want" Azriel answered, hazel eyes locked onto your own, "why wish for more when I already have you."

A rosy blush dusted your cheeks at the shadowsingers words, his stare so intense you could have sworn you were melting.

Slowly leaning forwards, you move to place a gentle kiss on Azriel's equally blushing cheek, only for the hypnotic moment to be broken by the boisterous Lord of Bloodshed.

"Az, you didn't tell me there was some more cake!" he cheered, stealing the plate from Azriel's unsuspecting hands before whisking it away to the table where his family was sat, eyes hungrily staring down the cake made for their brother.

Azriel grabbed your arm to stop you from chasing after the male. His warm lips coming down to meet your cheek, softly kissing you before he moved his mouth to whisper in your ear, "Don't bother. There's something sweeter I've got my eyes on."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Notes: Anyone else picture Az in a cute pink frilly apron or was it just me?

#acotar #fanfic #acotar imagine #sarah j maas #a court of thorns and roses #azriel x reader #azriel imagine #azriel #azriel oneshot #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar

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asecretwish · 4 months ago

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pick a card: embrace your power

(left to right: pile one, pile two, pile three. pick that which calls to you.)

𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔯𝔬𝔡𝔲𝔠𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫

this is a reading to give you insight into what qualities inside of yourself you should let loose to shine. there is no greater cause to champion than that of your own self. embrace your power.

𝔭𝔦𝔩𝔢 𝔬𝔫𝔢: 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔱𝔬𝔯𝔱𝔲𝔯𝔢𝔡 𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔦𝔰𝔱 (𝔨𝔫𝔞𝔳𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔴𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔰 𝔯𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔰𝔢𝔡, 𝔢𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱 𝔬𝔣 𝔠𝔬𝔦𝔫𝔰 𝔯𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔰𝔢𝔡, 𝔣𝔦𝔳𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔴𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔰)

you're someone full of inspired creative visions. you have so much to give, but sometimes you struggle to express exactly what it is that is currently inspiring you. this leaves you frustrated and disappointed, often leaving that project you were excited for unfinished while you try to chase perfection with the next. consider embracing your drive to create over that critical perfectionist monster that loves to chew on all your brain-children and spit them back out into the trashcan. every artist is their own worst critic, but if you keep throwing away everything you find imperfect, you might just be disposing of a potential masterpiece.

𝔭𝔦𝔩𝔢 𝔱𝔴𝔬: 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔥𝔢𝔰𝔦𝔱𝔞𝔫𝔱 𝔰𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔱𝔢𝔤𝔦𝔰𝔱 (𝔱𝔴𝔬 𝔬𝔣 𝔰𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡𝔰 𝔯𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔰𝔢𝔡, 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔦𝔬𝔱 𝔯𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔰𝔢𝔡, 𝔴𝔥𝔢𝔢𝔩 𝔬𝔣 𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔱𝔲𝔫𝔢)

you are headstrong, not easily swayed. sometimes, though, the opinions of those around you can become louder than your own, and in turn confuse you. embrace your inner confidence. you are the captain at your own helm, and there are choices in life too important to allow others to make them for you. no-one knows you better than you; you can be your own guiding star.

𝔭𝔦𝔩𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔯𝔢𝔢: 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔩𝔢-𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔢𝔡 (𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔬𝔣 𝔠𝔲𝔭𝔰, 𝔧𝔲𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔠𝔢 𝔯𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔰𝔢𝔡, 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔰 𝔯𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔰𝔢𝔡)

you are incredibly kind and emotionally mature. sometimes, this cant translate into people-pleasing, leaving you to neglect yourself while you're busy uplifting others. there may be someone close to you who is taking advantage of your kindness and wielding it as a weapon against you. embrace your gut feeling. gut feelings rarely lie, and if you find yourself making excuses for someone more often than you feel comfortable around them, that may be a sign that they're not the right person to have around you.

#pick a card #pick a card reading #pick a picture #pick a pile #pick a photo #pac tarot #free tarot #tarot cards #tarotblr #tarot #tarot reading #tarotcommunity #tarot witch #divination #tarot reader

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honeykaes · 6 months ago

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burn in my memories

ayato x retainer! reader II 2.8k

warning: smut, 18+ content, minors do not interact, afab!reader with no pronouns, angst, cheating, power imbalance (servant/master), cunnilingus, semi-public sex, exhibitionism, hot spring sex, marking, masturbation, body worship right person wrong time trope, alcohol mention, unedited

synopsis: as ayato prepares to get married, he decides to go on vacation with you, his trusted retainer, to enjoy his last bit of freedom.

The ripples of the water flashing around, filled the space under the moonlight night. Cicadas chirped around as some moths hovered near the doors of the inn, where the light was pouring through.

Warm steam rose to the heavens, leaving your skin dewy while your clothes clung onto your form. You gazed directly at the towering bamboo wall, covering the spring from any wandering eyes hoping to give your lord some modesty.

Your back was turned, hand securely placed at your katana, ensuring any suspects foolish enough to attack your lord in his most vulnerable time would quickly be stricken down.

Your lord, Kamisato Ayato, was someone you had been with for a long time. You washed up on the shores of Inazuma, hacking up seawater and barely conscious, after a storm led to the downfall of the ship you were on. The only thing in your hand was the grains of wet sand clinging to you and the hydro vision tightly gripped. Apparently, the Gods had wanted you to live; gifting you salvation, in the form of a vision for your survival.

After assisting in your recovery, you decided to work as at the Kamisato estate. You worked your way to become a respected retainer. It was surprising when you first found out you weren’t the only foreigner the Kamisatos had taken into this position as you met the blonde, half-Mondstadtan, Thoma.

Whispers and chatter among the common people echoed through the small island that the Kamisato had a thing for foreigners but Ayato and Ayaka insisted you and Thoma ignore it.

As Thoma focused more on household chores and “darker” tasks, to clean up after the Yashiro Commission, you primarily worked as a glorified secretary. You assist both siblings with cultural projects and paperwork.

Still, Ayato made sure you picked up the katana, learning the ways of his sword style, to protect the Kamisatos and the commission

“I can see you tensing from over here. You need to relax. I know it sounds rather… hypocritical from me, but it’s the truth,” you heard your lord hum across the hot spring.

You sighed, realizing how rigid your shoulders were, soon relaxing them as you breathed out.

”I still need to be on guard. I’m sure people are aware that the head of the Yashiro Commission took a leave of absence and is traveling for a bit. The hot spring is one of the most vulnerable positions to be in,” you replied.

You heard a heavy sigh part from Ayato’s lips.

”You know, I can take care of myself. Besides, the Shuumatsuban are patrolling in the shadows around the spring and inn as we speak,” he murmured. You could hear water lifting up ripping as he let out another sigh.

”When I taught you the katana, it was to protect yourself and my sister, not me…” His voice trailed off, as his mind was beginning to shift elsewhere.

This was the first time he had been apart from his sister. As much as his cool exterior claimed he was three steps ahead of everyone else, you knew deep down he was nervous leaving her alone at the estate.

“I’m sure she’s fine,” you insisted. “Plus, your most loyal dog is there protecting her. I have no doubt Thoma would lay down his life to see she is protected.”

Your lighthearted response was met with a grunt from Ayato.

“I’d prefer that wouldn’t happen either, but I appreciate the gesture nonetheless,” he muttered.

His thorns were peeking through. If his trailing off wasn’t about his sister, was it…

”Is this because of your upcoming wedding?”

Ayato fell silent. You could feel the heavy gaze of his eyes staring at your back as you fought the urge to shiver.

“...Do you know why I took this leave, hm?” Ayato murmured. You could feel his falsely saccharine smile on his lips as he asked you this question.

”No. You’ve never taken a vacation before,” you responded. Ayato let out a half-hearted chuckle, as more splashing echoed out.

”This is probably the last bit of freedom I will enjoy; if you can even call it that. After we return, it’s planning the wedding, the ceremony…making an heir—-continuing the legacy of the Kamisatos, a duty my parents bestowed on me,” he murmured.

”...It was either go through with this marriage or let my sister fall into that fate. A loveless marriage. I couldn’t bear to see her burdened by that,” he admitted. Before you were stranded in Inazuma 10 years ago, you don’t recall your former nation being this rigid with marriages and politics, but perhaps you were far too removed to realize.

“So you burdened yourself…? Forgive me if this is out of turn but maybe it’s time to move past those rigid rules. You’re the head of the Yashiro commissions, one of the most powerful men in Inazuma, why can’t you just do what you want?—” you asked.

Your question was interrupted, feeling large wet arms wrap around your waist. Ayatos’s head leaned between your shoulder blades.

”W-What?! My lord!? What are you doing…?!” you stammered out. You would feel the wetness of his hands beginning to dampen and soak through your attire.

“Although Inazuma is becoming more lenient, some things will not change. Although I cannot have the love I desire, at least Ayaka will…” he whispered. His voice was so soft, and vulnerable. Gone was the outward presence of a man who seemed ten steps ahead of everyone else. Gone was the man with a smile no one could decipher.

Left in your wake was a man, grieving his freedom for responsibility.

Your eyes softened.

”...Ayato…” you muttered, feeling his nails dig deeper as he clung tighter. You dragged your bottom lip between your teeth, nibbling softly on it. You weren’t sure what you could say or do to motivate him.

”This is overstepping, I know, but…for one night, I ask, to be with the person I love, to relish my last bit of freedom with them, to have that memory burned in my mind to keep me going until the day I die….” he called out.

Your lips parted, hearing his voice soon weakened to that of barely a whisper.

” I beg you…please.”

His grip loosened as you remained silent, and finally turned around to face him. A shadow covered his eyes, pale skin dewy from the steam and moisture from the spring. Your hand pillowed against his cheek as he finally looked up. His eyes were somber, as your gaze softened.

”...Then, let this memory stay with us the rest of our lives.”

Water splashes loudly as Ayato stands straight to his full height towering behind you. He leaned in, pressing his lips across your neck as goosebumps rushed down your skin. His hand slowly begins to untie bits of your armor as they crash loudly on the stone ground.

Soon your hakama pools on the floor, immediately dampening from the water sloshed around. You feel his touch begin to focus on disrobing your shitagi. You shivered feeling his large palm trace up the spine of your back as he leaned into your ear.

“Have you always been this sensitive?” he cooed, breath heavy and hot at the nape of your neck. You clicked your tongue in embarrassment before he turned you around— touching your bare hips and pinching the skin. You fought the urge to look past his v-line, trying to keep his mischievous lilac-hued gaze.

“I see you got your confidence back,” you pouted. Ayato's usually cunning smile finally made another appearance before he grabbed your chin, slightly lifting it up.

“I don’t want to wallow in my sorrows when I can focus on making the best of this situation,” he replied. He pressed a chaste kiss on your lips. They were soft as they molded onto your own. His teeth dragged on your bottom lip, nibbling the sensitive muscle.

He soon leaned back, watching as you shared a new pair of glossy lips once connected with a translucent string of saliva. Ayato leaned back down in the water, on his knees as his hands squeezed against your thighs.

“Sit down for me, will you? I want to enjoy my meal,” he murmured. You quirked your eyebrow in confusion but obeyed. You slowly sank and sat on the wet stone a level above the hot spring, letting part of your legs drape over and dive beneath the water.

“What do you mean?” you asked. He lets himself between your legs, letting his palms graze up and down the appendage. He soon sank deeper within the pool, getting closer to your core as his nails buried themselves in the flesh of your thighs.

His breath fogged up as he placed a gentle kiss on your clit, as your body shot up from the sudden pleasure. He prodded his tongue out of his mouth, flattening it as he pressed a long stripe against the bundle of nerves. Your fist balled up while crescent moons dug into your palms. His tongue swiped up and a moan reverberated from your lips.

You quickly cover your mouth to muffle the noises leaking out as Ayato continues his ministrations against your clit. His tongue slowly circled along the nub before letting his lips completely cover it, sucking sharply as your eyes shut tightly.

The pink muscle soon found itself swiping side-to-slide, rapidly flicking against your clit. Your legs, threatening to close onto his face, were soon captured by Ayato’s hands. He gradually guided them up onto his broad shoulders—allowing him to spread you out wider.

His mouth quickly made its way to your inner thigh, nibbling and sucking the plush skin, and admired the spot as it changed its hue. You grabbed onto the edge of the stone to steady yourself, cunt beginning to flutter from the pleasure.

The vibrations of Ayato’s amused chuckle added to his meticulous ministrations, letting his tongue savor the sweetness of your arousal. Your folds glistened in a mixture of his saliva and slick as loud slurping noises joined the symphony of cicadas.

You pressed your thumb against your tongue in a futile attempt to stop your whimpers and cries, hips helplessly grinding against his face.

“Aya..A—” you stammered out. Your back arch, toes curling towards the heavens and your body quivering in pleasure—signaling your high. Ayato left your throbbing clit with one last kiss before leaning away, letting your tired, sweaty, and damp legs hang back into the warm water of the hot spring.

Your tired eyes looked up as your chest heaved, seeing his flushed expression and mouth smeared with your arousal. His tongue flickered out, lapping up any remaining slick on the corners of his mouth and wiping the rest of it off.

“Ah, ah, ah. You’re tired already?” he hummed. “I thought you said: ‘Let this memory stay with us the rest of our lives’. This doesn’t seem very memorable, hm?”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes as you lifted your upper form up and let yourself sink into the warm water. Your legs felt shaky, but thankfully the pool was too small for you to struggle with your footing.

“Ayato, I don’t think anyone has eaten me out like that in my entire life,” you sighed, body melting from the warm water. Ayato clicked his tongue.

“Talking about other lovers right now? How cruel you are to me,” he sarcastically replied. He soon turned you around, pinning you to the side of the pool. You could feel his erect cock pressing against the globe on your ass, twitching as it slid between your folds and thighs.

“...I want this to matter to you as it does to me,” he muttered in your ear, tone deeper and more serious than it was prior. “I want to leave evidence on you that I existed, even if it fades. I will know and cherish these memories.”

His cock lazily thrust, as your lips trembled from his tip gliding across your overstimulated clit. You gyrated your hips against the veins of his cock, hearing his breath hitch. He lifted his hand up, squeezing them against the mounds on your breast. You let a moan out before he stopped thrusting, tapping his cock against the bumble of nerves once more. He leaned in, capturing your earlobe before nibbling on it.

“...It matters to me too. You don’t think I will also be hurt serving a woman married to the man I love? Do what you must. Burn it into my skin and thoughts,” you whispered. “Let my body, mind, and soul know the only person Ayato Kamisato loved was me.”

With a grunt, Ayato sank his cock inside of you. His cock dragged itself against your walls, plunging himself deeper. The waters rippled to his pace across the pool, as the sound of slapping skin was hidden against the sloshing of waves.

He fought the urge to bury his teeth in your neck, feeling your velvety walls massaging this cock—lulling him to plunge as far as he could inside of you. His upper half pressed tightly against your back, leaning your torso down and pinned against the edge of the pool.

Feeling as though he could go deeper inside of you with this new position, his pace increased as your body swayed helplessly to the rhyme. Ayato’s lips pressed against your neck, trailing quick and soft kisses. His hands wandered throughout your body too, moving up to admire your legs, squeezing against the globe of your ass and sliding across the curves of your side.

It was like his soft touch was trying to memorize any bit of your body he could. A mole or freckle on your back? His tongue lapped at it. A birthmark or discoloration? He peppered kisses across it. A hickey he made? He’d be sure to slightly pinch at the bruised sensitive skin.

“You don’t know how much I wanted to do that…” he groaned. His hands soon make their way up, hovering above your own slayed out on the side of the pool, weaving his fingers against yours as he pressed against you tighter. His cock drilled itself inside of you, hips bucking widely as his rhythm began to falter.

He sucked a sharp breath, feeling your walls clamp down urging him to continue rutting inside of you until he spilled every last drop. Your own fingers soon found themselves, rubbing tight circles against your clit, walls fluttering more as you began to ascend. As your voice rose in octave—reaching your second high of the night— Ayato’s face tensed up as you grew tighter and tighter.

“Fuck…” he grunted, in frustration. He quickly slid out, cock twitching in desperation. He turned you around, pulling you to a passionate and needy kiss. You could still taste the bitter sake on his tongue from dinner. His cock pressed against your tongue, heavy and throbbing and in need of release.

“I wish I could spill myself inside of you, but I can’t risk it no matter how desperate I am to,” he grunted as your lips parted and the two of you caught your breath. Ayato stood up again and your gaze finally looked past his V-line. A small pale blue happy trail greeted you, along with his cock. The member twitched as if it had a mind of its own, flushed in a slight pink hue from the heat and your earlier activities.

It was longer but thinner than you expected—a hidden mole decorating it. You recalled the one along with his upper thigh, one on his face, and one on his back. You never would’ve guessed he had one there too.

Noting your gaze, Ayato grabbed onto his cock, pressing his thumb against the tip showing precum beginning to bud and dribble out. His tight grip slid against his length, hips buckling as he began to moan once more.

“Open your mouth,” he breathlessly asked. You swam closer to him, opening your mouth while he pressed his tip against your tongue. You could taste the saltiness, watching his cock twitch as he jerked his cock faster. With a loud moan of your name, Ayato’s half-lidded eyes admired as ropes of his thick cum began to pool on your tongue as you struggled to gather all the spurted out.

He bit the inside of his cheek before combing his hand through his wet hair, clinging to his forehead, and taking deep breaths.

“Now…swallow for me…” he groaned. You saw the smirk creep on his face as he watched your throat bobbed, savoring every drop he gave you. With a relieving sigh, Ayato’s face quickly softened, leaning down and capturing your lips once more. He rested his body against the side of the pool as you leaned against his chest.

His arms wrapped around your form, looking down at you briefly before gazing at the moonlit sky.

“Let’s hope the Gods grant us a never-ending night before we have to wake up and pretend to forget this.”

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin smut #ayato x reader #ayato smut #ayato imagines #ayato scenarios #ayato angst #kamisato ayato x reader #ayato x you

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captain-joongz · 2 months ago

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i shared one for BTS, so now here comes ATZ! the second night of hard hours is here <3 enjoy yourselves! inbox is open, come talk <3

HARD HOURS THOUGHTS

warnings: voyeurism, slight dub-con vibes, obssessed and possessive joong, masturbation (m)

something drives me absolutely crazy about dressmaker!Hongjoong who's obssessed with using his roommate as his personal mannequin

you guys wouldn't be too close, just friendly enough to live together comfortably, and that would make you totally oblivious to how his stare always turned hungry and calculating when looking at your figure. in his eyes, you were just perfect - the best medium for his art

you'd be a real muse to him in every sense of the word - driving him mad with visions of dresses and silks and jewels, sending him into creative fits where he would design for hours upon hours clothes that would fit you perfectly and make every curve stand out in a truly maddening way, turning him into a needy horny mess desperate for the opportunity to dress you at least once. he'd already long lost count of how many evenings he spent desperately jerking off with half finished gowns spread all around him, just imagining them gracing your body

he'd be shy at first, coming to you to ask for a "favour" - he needed help with his latest project, the dress just wasn't coming out how he wanted it to and he just had to see it on a body to know for sure - and of course you'd agree to help, completely unknowing to the fact that the dress was made for you and Hongjoong had an ulterior motive for seeing you in it

his nimble fingers would dance over you - over your ribs and thighs, over your tummy, talking about righting the dress but just taking the opportunity to feel you up - and oh boy, the moment you put it on, he'd be losing his mind, fighting off the need to just bend you over and fuck you and cum all over you draped in his silks

he'd feel like a right pervert, guiltily hiding his erection while pretending to smooth it out and take measurements, none-the-wiser to the fact that you were barely holding on yourself - your breath hitching everytime his fingers brushed over you so gently, everytime his warmth pressed into you when he got closer to "inspect the details". that would be the closest you've ever gotten to someone worshipping your form and you were quickly getting addicted

it would feel like hours before he let you take it off again - hours during which nothing much seemed to have happened with the dress, but Hongjoong flitted around you and looked over every single inch of it, so surely he must have been working on it

and when you left his room, Hongjoong would barely hold it in for three seconds before his hands were desperately squeezing his cock through his pants, so wound up from having seen the perfection of you in his creation he'd pathetically cum all over himself while his hips jerked abortedly

after that he'd grow bolder - asking you for help as often as he could get away with and dolling you up in full outfits, hands possessively grabbing onto you and pretending to look it over just to feel your body under him, barely containing himself from jerking off and cumming all over you still donned in his designs, unknowingly pushing you closer and closer to the edge of snapping too

divider by @cafekitsune <3

#hard hours #ateez hard hours #ateez smut #hongjoong smut

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pandulce135 · 1 year ago

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Manmade Machine (Donatello x Reader Smut)

Note: I had the thought "Hah, what if Donnie watched the reader get fucked with his own fuck machine?" and so i wrote it. This is the first smut I've ever written, and I really haven't been able to write anything creatively for the past few months. Please go easy on me and enjoy!

Warnings: Smut (18+ only please!), aged up characters, blindfold, restraint, fuck machine, hardly proofread

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Your moans filled the space as the silicone slid in and out of you with wet slaps. On all fours, your ass was in the air and jiggling with each thrust of the machine. Beneath your sweating skin was a cool metal that your chest laid flat against. You moved to release the weight on your chest only for your wrists to tug on the restraints that held your hands in place.

Another moan escaped just as you accepted your fate of being fucked relentlessly by the machine behind you, the dildo hitting just right.

You didn’t anticipate for this to happen, but when Donnie had sent a text where he expressed his excitement over finishing his big project, you had to go see it. You didn’t know that this machine was that big project. So when you walked into a near empty lair, you made your way to Donnie’s lab only to get a quick peek at the machine before a blindfold took over your vision.

“Right on time,” his words tickled your neck with a husky whisper as he tightened the blindfold on your head. His lips found their place on your neck, latching onto it. His three fingered hands holding your waist, traveling down to your hips then traveling back up to your front to fondle your breasts.

You let out a gasp. “Donnie!” It was breathy, and only stirred him on, especially when your hands reached up to rake your fingernails against his cool scaly skin. You continued to feel his hands through your clothing, touching you, holding you as if you were a precious doll. His hands still moved eagerly to feel you though, sliding up and down from your breasts to your ass as his lips continued to make themselves at home on your neck.

You were going to have hickeys there, you both knew it.

His hands finally began to lift the hem of your shirt, lifting it up and over your head to expose your bra. Warm lips reattached themselves to your skin as you felt his cold hands undo the clasps with expert fingers. It slid down your arms and to the floor. The cold air made you gasp and you felt your nipples harden, sensitive to the cold. The tingle that came from your nipples mirrored the same sensation you felt between your legs. Your panties were soaked and your cunt was looking for anything that can provide release. You pressed your thighs together.

Donnie let out a chuckle at your movements, still tickling your ear with a breath of warm air. A shiver ran down your spine as one of his three finger hands found the small of your back, guiding you forward with a gentle push. He was guiding you to the machine and you felt your cunt throb, aching for something to satisfy its intense need.

He led you to the table the machine sat on, your ass leaning against the cool metal as his lips latched themselves to your hardened nipples. You let out a moan and your hands moved to hold his head to your chest. As soon as you moved, his hands caught your wrists and held them as he continued to suck and nip at the cold and sensitive flesh.

“You’re so good, but don’t touch, just accept,” he said, his voice just as low as before.

You nodded, a quiet “okay” escaping your lips.

If you weren’t soaked through before, you definitely were now. As his tongue and teeth continued to play with your nipples, he moved your hands to hold on to your wrists with only one of his. When his other hand returned, you felt a fabric beginning to make its way around your wrists. You let out a breathy moan. He knew exactly what to do for you.

With his hands now free, he began to caress your body again, running them up your sides, cupping your chest, squeezing your breasts before lowering them to your thighs, squeezing them. Another soft moan left your lips as his hands dragged dangerously close to your core, only to move away again. This time, they landed on your hips, guiding you to stand up again. You felt his hands on your stomach before they lowered to the button of your jeans. He lowered them slowly, eyeing the dark spot on your panties as he helped you out of them.

“Someone’s excited,” he chuckled. He took the opportunity to grab your ass and play with it in his hands.

“Please, Donnie,” you whimpered out, his hands still teasing you. He wasn’t touching you where you needed him just yet.

“What?” You could hear the smug smirk in his voice. “I couldn’t hear you.” His hands traveled close to the wet spot and you held your breath in anticipation to be pleased, only for them to move back to your ass.

“Touch me, Donnie,” you whined. You couldn’t hold yourself back as your hips thrusted forward, hoping to reach something to grind against, but you were met with cold air.

Donnie chuckled, the hot air of his breath blowing against your stomach. “Oh, but I am touching you, dearest.” He pinched one of your legs, making you let out another whine.

“You know what I mean!” You tried to rub your thighs together again, only to have them pulled apart by his strong hands.

“You’re going to have to be more specific.” You felt his hot breath on your left thigh, right at the waistband of your panties. You whined again.

“Touch my clit! Fuck me! Do whatever, just please don’t torture me like this anymore!” You pleaded, throwing your head back.

Donatello found this amusing and oh-so beautiful. Watching as you squirmed under his teasing touches and as your skin glistened with sweat. Your panties were nearly soaked through, it was almost admirable. He looked up at you from his crouched position in front of you. You were stunning.

You felt his fingers loop around the waistband on your panties. “As you wish,” he whispered onto your cunt. The sudden air made you groan just as he pulled down your panties. The wet spot stuck to your clit for just a second longer than the rest. Donatello was mesmerized as he lowered the panties slowly enough for there to be a string of your arousal connecting you to your clothing.

It only took a few seconds for him to refocus on the task at hand and drag his finger through your juices. You let out a loud moan at the sudden contact and felt your knees begin to wobble as he flicked your clit. He leaned you back onto the table and wrapped his arms around your thighs to keep them spread apart as he tongue dove into you. Your breaths began to come out ragged as you felt his tongue swipe at your clit.

“Yes, yes- Donnie,” you moaned as he consumed you. He licked up your juices eagerly, like your cunt was the last source of water on the planet. Like this was the way to divinity, and you were the goddess. He loved how you tasted- so sweet, so delicious.

Donnie pulled away and you nearly cried at the lack of his warmth from your clit. Only a few seconds later and a large finger plunged into you, making you throw your head back as you let out a long moan. He stood up, pumping his finger in and out of you as he grabbed your chin to force you to face him. You felt his lips crash into yours in a sloppy, wet kiss. You tasted yourself on his lips and tongue and you couldn’t stop another moan from getting tangled into the kiss.

That’s when he began to lean you back onto the table. His finger still fucking you and his lips still attached to yours. The cool metal made you flinch and lean forward into Donnie’s plastron. He let out a chuckle before pushing you down so your back was against the table. Then he pulled out again, his finger loitering at your entrance to feel your muscles clenching around nothing. He watched your chest rise and fall with each heavy breath you took. He eyed your lips, where drool was escaping, from the heated kiss as well as being stimulated so pleasantly. Your skin was drenched in sweat and when he looked lower, found you dripping between your thighs. He wanted to take you then and there, but he had other plans.

He cleaned off his finger by licking your juices off of it before picking you up and placing you on the table on your hands and knees. You let out a yelp at the sudden movement.

“Donnie? What are you doing?” You asked, as you still had the blindfold on with your wrists restrained.

“Trust me, please.”

You nodded.

You felt his hand on your upper back, softly pushing you down so your chest was flat against the table. Your arms were guided to lay out on the table and you realized he tied the fabric to something else. You wouldn’t be able to move your hands. You felt something cold line up with your entrance.

“You remember the safe word, correct?” Donatello stopped once everything was lined up. He placed a hand softly on your cheek and you leaned your head into it.

“Yes.” You tried to nod but found yourself struggling to move your head properly.

“Let me hear you say it.” How sweet he could be in times like these. He really did love you and you, him.

“Engineer.”

“And taps?” He was always thorough, just in case one or the other crossed a line. You knocked on the table rhythmically, it gave a tinny sound in response. Knock, knock-knock, knock, knock.

Donnie dragged his hand to grab your chin between your chin and finger. “Good girl.”

That’s when you felt the tip of what was lined up at your entrance begin to enter you. He had built a whole machine to fuck you while he watched. You couldn’t stop yourself from letting out a long moan as the machine rammed its silicone dick inside of your dripping pussy.

To the side you heard a squeak of a chair and a hefty loud groan. He probably dropped himself. He probably did all this to have a front row seat to jack off. You felt yourself dripping between your thighs and onto the table. Each thrust of the machine sent another wave of pleasure straight through to your core. Hearing Donnie’s soft grunts to the side as he stroked himself was only adding fuel to your burning core.

You heard the chair creak again.

“You’re taking it so well, darling-” He cut himself off with a deep breath. “I’m going to take your blindfold off.”

You expected the need to squint after being released from the darkness of the blindfold, but the lights were dim enough that it was an easy enough adjustment for your eyes. Ever the mood setter, Donnie was.

You looked at him over your arm as he sat down again, pumping himself as you watched.

You were watching him jerk off as he watched you getting fucked with his own creation. That turned Donnie on, so much so that the mere thought of it made his cock throb with need. He began to fist himself faster. All the while, you watched, struggling to hold back moans. The familiar warm sensation gathered at your lower belly, telling you your end was near.

“Oh, God, Donnie,” you gasped out. You watched as his eyes snapped to yours from where they were staring at your bouncing ass. “I’m- I’m gonna cum.” You felt the machine speed up and let out a moan as you threw your head onto your arm. In his hand, Donnie held a remote, obviously meant to control the machine. “Yes! Faster! More!”

“As,” Donnie grunted, “you wish.” The machine was moving faster, your ass bouncing with every thrust. The warmth was beginning to grow unbearable.

You saw as Donnie’s leg began to twitch, he was close too. It only took a few more thrusts before you came on the dildo like a wave crashing down. You were dripping all over the table as the dildo came to a stop inside of you. With heavy breaths you watched as white strings of cum began to shoot out of Donnie’s cock, landing on his heaving plastron. You clenched the dildo at the sight and hissed at the overstimulation.

“Are you okay?” He heard you and rushed to get up, undoing your restraints and helping you off of the machine.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Spent, but fine.” You signed as you leaned on his plastron before pulling away after sighting the spilled cum next to you. “Oh, ew, Don.” With a tired gesture, you pointed at the cum that was right next to you.

“Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t think to clean myself up when I heard you hiss in pain,” Donnie shot back, just as tired before pointing to the mess on the table. “You’re one to talk.”

“But this was all your idea,” you whined as you laid back down on the table, the cool metal relieving the heat that was all over your sweaty body.

“You’re not sleeping there.” Donnie turned around to grab a towel to wipe off his plastron before turning back and picking you up off the table, earning a groan. He chuckled. “Let’s get cleaned up, yeah?”

“Yeah.” You looked up at him, your head leaning against his chest, before leaning up and planting a kiss on his cheek. “I love you, Donnie.”

You didn’t miss the small smile that grew across his lips. “I love you, too, darling.”

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