#i got serious over fiction again
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You know, I feel like some in the fandom don't quite see how belittling it is for them to automatically make Astarion incapable of ever enjoying sex or wanting it. As someone who has been through a lot of sexual abuse in my life, violent ones at that, it was a difficult path (and still is) to realize it's okay to want sex, to enjoy it with the right person. We have trauma, but we aren't broken. It took me a long time to let myself enjoy it, with the right people, because I spent years telling myself it was wrong due to my past. That I shouldn't feel good because I've once felt disgusting and bad.
It's a struggle and even married, I sometimes dissociate. But I have a partner willing to listen, to be patient when I need it. But also not afraid to ever touch me, to pleasure me.
So it drives me a little mad when fans seem to think Astarion is incapable of ever having it again with Tav or whoever. That it's wrong to place him in a relationship that's sexual. He isn't fucking broken, if you romance him, you become his good experience. Just like my husband was for me. The right person, the gentle person, makes all the difference in finding yourself again, and learning it's okay to feel 'good' (not just sexually) in your life. We have temptations, urges, happiness, trust, fear, disgust, anger, shame. The list goes on but those emotions don't need to cancel out one another. Let us feel them. Let us determine what we can and can't do. Don't write us off as damaged goods to be cooed over and treated like celibacy is all there is to healing.
Yes, this is a rant, but having felt those experiences myself, I just hate being viewed as broken or being treated with kid gloves. We're still people, we're still allowed to have fulfilling sex lives. It isn't wrong to see Astarion and let Tav be that someone he trusts enough to eventually get back to that point. I also know he's fictional lol but I just get upset when perusing the tags and watching some say him wanting sex or fans writing him or drawing him in such situations is wrong. HE ISN'T BROKEN. Sexual trauma will always be with us types, but we are not broken goddammit...we are people, we just need someone to see that in us.
We are allowed to live a life, remember that. You don't get to dictate our traumas path to healing. That's precisely how abusers want it to be. To take all of our freedom of choice, and twist it to forever be 'tainted' (as Astarion says too). Fuck that. We can be people again. We're allowed that.
#sorry#i got serious over fiction again#bg3#baldurs gate 3#astarion x tav#astarion#tav x astarion#we are people#we just needed someone to see that
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again and again i find myself lamenting that audio roleplay isn't taken more seriously by some people. like yeah, they often have a romantic element, and by nature they usually directly involve/address the listener- and i totally get that those things aren't to everyone's taste. no art or entertainment is universally appealing, and that's okay! but.. it still makes me a lil sad that the "cringe" reputation of asmr/audio rp precedes it. there's a whole lot of talent and creativity being poured into these audios by so many people that i feel goes unrecognized and/or disrespected simply due to the medium that the stories are being told through.
#this post brought to you by: me bingeing Sam & Darlin's entire storyline over the past few days and having a Lot of feelings abt it#asmr#audio roleplay#rp audio stuff#redacted audio#anyways i don't have a conclusion to this post. and i'm not Mad or Upset or anything i'm just thinkin' out loud#and i mean it's not like it doesn't get plenty of praise within its respective audience bc it does. at least for the more popular creators#but i feel it'll still always have the shadow of its cringe reputation looming over it#which makes it hard for some ppl to openly appreciate or share with others that aren't already fans of the medium#like do u know how many comments i've seen along the lines of 'this is great but i'd die if anyone knew i liked this kinda stuff' ?? :(#idk maybe i feel strongly about it bc i'm a self-insert fanfic writer. and i feel like the two have a lot in common. including a bad rep.#like. not every audio will be well-written or produced and neither will every fanfic. but that doesn't mean it's a less legitimate artform#and i'm lucky to have never (yet) received negative comments on my work. but that doesn't mean that it doesn't make me sigh when people-#-say shit like 'this reads like fanfiction' as a way of calling something bad. or other similar sentiments that make the same implication#and i wouldn't be surprised if audio creators feel the same way when they encounter certain comments or statements#like. those YT videos where ppl will 'try bf asmr for the first time' or whatever and it's just 20 mins of cringing and over-reacting? eugh#tbf i haven't watched many bc why do that to myself. so Maybe there's some that are respectful but still. imagine getting roasted like that#and yes yes i know that by posting stuff online you're inadvertently sighing up to be criticized by Anyone but still. man. i dunno#i'm going on a tangent but my point is. i'm grateful for the creators that still make their art in spite of the public's perception of it#bc some of the most impactful emotional experiences i've ever gained from fiction took place in audio rp and i'm so serious abt that.#anyways. this post almost feels like i'm 'making up a person to be mad at' but i promise it's not that serious i'm just yapping. mostly.#certainly not trying to start any kind of debate or anything either i just have a lot of fixation-induced energy and nowhere to put it#this is Eric's fault (/lh) for cooking Sam up in a lab catered exactly to my taste and making Darlin' waaaaay too painfully relatable#but it's also My fault for bingeing the Inversion /and/ the Quinn arc /and/ the Summit all within a couple days. but i can't help myself#feels like i've run an emotional marathon. triathlon. The Emotional Olympics if u will. i'm feeling Everything#who knew that beating the shit out of ur fictional abuser could feel so goddamn cathartic! it's a nice replacement when u can't do it irl#anyways i'm off on a tangent again. thanks for coming to my TED Talk i'm gonna crawl back in my hole now#actually i'm gonna go relisten to a few audios. as Research for my Sam & Darlin' playlist as well as a post i'll be making about it soon#u Know i've got it bad when i not only make a playlist but start Posting on here about the songs that remind me of them. i'm cooked guys.
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To me personally malistaire is the funniest and most pathetic villain wizard101 has ever had AND I MEAN THAT SINCERELY!!! Between doomed children who have been manipulated, groomed, and isolated into becoming products of their environments, someone scorned who has been punished unfairly by having your biological heart torn out your chest and turning your children and all of reality against you to satiate their own ego, a nonhuman entity so powerful and so clueless they unintentionally threaten the lives of everyone around them, Malistaire FELL DOWN BRO. Like yeah you're bitchless now. You and me both. Get in line. Everyone in this room is bitchless. We are ALL living that ✨💅🏾💃🕺 Single Life™. You are a middle-aged man. Cope
#this post is lighthearted btw JELAJWODJTU i aint actually mad#but like...... malistaire as a villain is kinda mid though im sorry. IM SORRY ill take the L opinion if i have to#its one thing if he lost his wife to unfair systematic negligence or thru someone else's doings or smth but. no she just got sick bro 😐#HWMSNFLEKSDIDOA EVERY ONCE IN A WHILE I WILL GIVW A BAD OPINION AND THIS IS ONE OF THEM. i cant be right ALL the time /j#like if i dont focus on malistaire's motives and just his ACTIONS he seems super metal#but then he does ALLLLL of that heinous shit because his wife died. like thats absolutely very sad but damn get a grip#(fandom starts breaking in my windows and drags me out into the street) IM SORRY IM SORRY LOOK ITS JUST NOT MY CUP OF TEA#ive never been invested in those Mr. Freeze types of villains where a person they love dies due to normal circumstances-#and they go fucking BERSERK. they LOSE IT. they go like “well okay fuck the entire world i guess nothing matters” and then kill people#LIKE IF IT'S DONE IN A CERTAIN WAY I CAN BE INVESTED but more often than not to me? its just kind of funny#like “okay damn there was only ONE person keeping you from being a national criminal? okay”#and you know what? thats a mood actually. thats a mood#without my cat i probanly would have become the president by now#for some reason its a little diff for me if its like a child you lost and idk why#like if malistaire lost a kid instead of his wife id probably be more inclined to feel bad and thats terribly fucked up JSLSJSJSJ#you know what its also bias because in some shape or form i relate to all the other villains. morganthe and duncan especially#whereas in malitsaire's case i have never been married. which i mean doesnt stop me from tryna be more synpathetic i guess but im just not#ONCE AGAIN FEEL VERY BAD FOR HIM AND SULVIA. like losing someone to sickness or any reason really is a serious thing#but in terms of a fictional setting with fictional characters where one of them decides to commit genocide over it? 🧍 like okay boo u do u#i will gladly give up my mantle for the “most reasonable opinions” guy in the fandom foe this one. i deserve it#wizard101#w101#wiz101#text posts#malistaire drake
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Terry Pratchett about fantasy ❤
Terry Pratchett interview in The Onion, 1995 (x)
O: You’re quite a writer. You’ve a gift for language, you’re a deft hand at plotting, and your books seem to have an enormous amount of attention to detail put into them. You’re so good you could write anything. Why write fantasy?
Terry: I had a decent lunch, and I’m feeling quite amiable. That’s why you’re still alive. I think you’d have to explain to me why you’ve asked that question.
O: It’s a rather ghettoized genre.
Terry: This is true. I cannot speak for the US, where I merely sort of sell okay. But in the UK I think every book— I think I’ve done twenty in the series— since the fourth book, every one has been one the top ten national bestsellers, either as hardcover or paperback, and quite often as both. Twelve or thirteen have been number one. I’ve done six juveniles, all of those have nevertheless crossed over to the adult bestseller list. On one occasion I had the adult best seller, the paperback best-seller in a different title, and a third book on the juvenile bestseller list. Now tell me again that this is a ghettoized genre.
O: It’s certainly regarded as less than serious fiction.
Terry: (Sighs) Without a shadow of a doubt, the first fiction ever recounted was fantasy. Guys sitting around the campfire— Was it you who wrote the review? I thought I recognized it— Guys sitting around the campfire telling each other stories about the gods who made lightning, and stuff like that. They did not tell one another literary stories. They did not complain about difficulties of male menopause while being a junior lecturer on some midwestern college campus.
Fantasy is without a shadow of a doubt the ur-literature, the spring from which all other literature has flown. Up to a few hundred years ago no one would have disagreed with this, because most stories were, in some sense, fantasy. Back in the middle ages, people wouldn’t have thought twice about bringing in Death as a character who would have a role to play in the story. Echoes of this can be seen in Pilgrim’s Progress, for example, which hark back to a much earlier type of storytelling. The epic of Gilgamesh is one of the earliest works of literature, and by the standard we would apply now— a big muscular guys with swords and certain godlike connections— That’s fantasy. The national literature of Finland, the Kalevala. Beowulf in England. I cannot pronounce Bahaghvad-Gita but the Indian one, you know what I mean. The national literature, the one that underpins everything else, is by the standards that we apply now, a work of fantasy.
Now I don’t know what you’d consider the national literature of America, but if the words Moby Dick are inching their way towards this conversation, whatever else it was, it was also a work of fantasy. Fantasy is kind of a plasma in which other things can be carried. I don’t think this is a ghetto. This is, fantasy is, almost a sea in which other genres swim. Now it may be that there has developed in the last couple of hundred years a subset of fantasy which merely uses a different icongraphy, and that is, if you like, the serious literature, the Booker Prize contender. Fantasy can be serious literature. Fantasy has often been serious literature. You have to fairly dense to think that Gulliver’s Travels is only a story about a guy having a real fun time among big people and little people and horses and stuff like that. What the book was about was something else. Fantasy can carry quite a serious burden, and so can humor. So what you’re saying is, strip away the trolls and the dwarves and things and put everyone into modern dress, get them to agonize a bit, mention Virginia Woolf a few times, and there! Hey! I’ve got a serious novel. But you don’t actually have to do that.
(Pauses) That was a bloody good answer, though I say it myself.
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Okay this is going to sound out of the blue but, I've been meaning to announce this- but I've just kinda been drained of all energy bc of some shit that's happened
I feel like I kinda need to say it bc otherwise gfjkdlkfd i know some peeps are gonna be like, in regards to certain stories I kinda prommied to finish like soon and such (I have ''prommied'' a lot r.i.p)
but for right now and for reasons I feel like I can't risk saying- the stories are going to be delayed- I don't know how long, but they all are going to wind up being delayed- no might, no probably, I am not going to be writing for awhile
While I focus and think something, I do wanna say to not make y'all freak out, I am doing okay- like its nothing bad in THOSE regards, but this is basically me saying im going to be stepping away from writing posting stories for a bit
#Chase's Writing Shenanigans#but i can say whenever i do get in a position where i can write again- the Eclipse story will probably come first#and then finally that fucking candybats multi chapter fic-#and so on- but for now- I have got some serious things to think about#I'm still gonna be active somewhat lmao- reblogging shit- being gay over fictional men#and all that jazz- but i just- feel like i should at least say that#so people don't think i've given up writing lmao
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You Got Me So In Love, I've Never Been This Possessive
Summary: While on a scenic boat trip along the coasts of Malta, you bask in the crystal-clear waters, and laughter with Pedro’s cast and crew. Despite his injured arm keeping him on the boat, Pedro can’t keep his eyes off you.
Paring: Pedro Pascal x F!Reader
Warnings: Established Relationship, TOOTH-ROTTING FLUFF, Slight Nudity, Slight Angst, Swearing, Anxiety, Cheesy Dialogue, Romance, Kissing, Real People Fiction, Cameras, Swimming, Bikini, Flirting, Teasing, Cast, Pedro Fell Down The Stairs, ER visit, Hurt-To-Comfort, Mild Spice, Banter, Idk Spanish so the terms might be wrong but I'm trying my best
Word Count: 5K
A/N: GOOD MORNING CHICKENS!!! Y’know how I said there would be a part two? Yup. Also, I know no one asked, but back in High School, I fell down the stairs… A LOT. Like every year for six years. No major bones were broken, only a sprained ankle every time I fell down the stairs, so in a way I guess I was lucky. PSA to always hold the hand railing, and like Pedro said, it can happen to anyone!
Side note: I’m dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!
Song: Te Quiero by KISS OF LIFE
← Previous Chapter | Main Masterlist |
PASCAL RESIDENCE, CHILE — AFTERNOON
The sun bathed the Pascal family home in a golden glow, the air filled with the scent of freshly baked empanadas and the gentle hum of conversation. You were seated on the patio, your legs tucked under you, watching as Pedro animatedly retold a story from his teenage years. His siblings—Javiera, Lux, and Nicolás—listened with rapt attention, their laughter bubbling over when Pedro’s dad chimed in with his version of events, insisting Pedro had exaggerated again.
“Exaggerated?” Pedro placed a hand on his chest, feigning offense. “I would never! Everything I say is 100% true and scientifically proven.”
“Scientifically proven to be full of nonsense,” Nicolás teased, earning a round of laughter.
You couldn’t help but grin, soaking in the easy camaraderie of the family. Pedro’s hand found yours under the table, his fingers lacing with yours in a way that felt like second nature. He glanced at you, his dark eyes soft with a love so deep it made your chest tighten.
“Tell them,” Pedro said, turning to you with an exaggeratedly serious expression. “Tell them I’m not lying.”
You bit back a laugh, tilting your head in mock consideration. “Well… the story did sound a bit too good to be true.”
“Et tu, mi amor?” he groaned, but the corners of his mouth quirked up in a smile.
Javiera, ever the ringleader, stood and declared, “Enough storytelling! Let’s put her to the test. If she’s going to be part of this family, she needs to learn brisca.”
Pedro leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear. “Fair warning: They’ll gang up on you.”
“Good thing I’ve got you on my side,” you murmured, a soft blush rising to your cheeks.
“I’ll always be on your side,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your temple that sent a shiver down your spine.
A FEW HOURS LATER…
The sun had dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the yard. Pedro had wandered inside to grab more drinks for everyone while you stayed on the patio with Lux, discussing her latest project.
The sound of a crash shattered the peaceful air. You froze, the glass in Lux’s hand slipping and shattering on the ground.
“Pedro!” you gasped, bolting toward the house.
Inside, you found him crumpled at the base of the stairs, his face pale and contorted in pain. Nicolás was already at his side, his hands hovering uncertainly as if afraid to make things worse.
“Call an ambulance!” you shouted, your voice shaking as you knelt beside Pedro.
He looked up at you, his breaths shallow and uneven. “I’m okay, I’m okay,” he said through gritted teeth, but his wince betrayed him.
“You’re not okay,” you said, your hands trembling as you gently brushed the hair from his forehead. “What happened?”
“I missed the last step,” he muttered, trying to manage a weak smile. “Guess I’m not as graceful as I thought.”
“Pedro, this isn’t funny,” you whispered, tears pricking your eyes.
Javiera appeared with the phone pressed to her ear, speaking rapidly to the emergency dispatcher. Lux crouched beside you, her face pale as she reached for Pedro’s uninjured hand.
“Help’s on the way,” Javiera assured you, her voice steady despite the panic in her eyes.
Minutes felt like hours as you waited for the ambulance. You kept your focus on Pedro, your hand gripping his tightly. “Just breathe, okay? I’m right here. You’re going to be fine.”
THE ER — EVENING
The antiseptic smell of the hospital hit you as you paced the waiting room, your heart pounding in your chest. Pedro had been whisked away for X-rays, and you felt helpless, the absence of his hand in yours leaving you cold.
When the doctor finally emerged, you rushed to meet him, Javiera and Nicolás close behind.
“Mr. Pascal has a broken arm,” the doctor explained. “It’s a clean break, but he’ll need surgery to set the bone properly. We’re scheduling it for late January.”
Relief and worry collided in your chest. “Can I see him?” you asked, your voice small.
The doctor nodded, and you followed the nurse to Pedro’s room. He was sitting up in bed, his arm in a temporary sling, his face pale but his smile still intact.
“Hey, troublemaker,” he said, his voice softer than usual.
You crossed the room in a few quick steps, perching on the edge of his bed. “Don’t you ever scare me like that again,” you said, your voice breaking as tears spilled over.
Pedro reached for your hand with his good arm, his thumb brushing soothing circles over your knuckles. “I’m sorry, mi amor,” he murmured, his eyes glistening.
You leaned forward, pressing your forehead to his. “I thought… I thought something worse happened. I couldn’t breathe until I saw you.”
“I’m here,” he whispered, his voice steady despite the pain. “And I’ll be fine. Especially with you by my side.”
You kissed him gently, pouring every ounce of love and relief into the touch. As his lips moved against yours, you felt the fear begin to fade, replaced by the overwhelming gratitude that he was still here with you.
“I’ll take care of you,” you promised, pulling back just enough to look into his eyes. “Whatever you need, I’m here.”
Pedro smiled, his gaze tender. “I don’t deserve you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” you said, brushing a tear from your cheek. “You deserve the world.”
And in that moment, surrounded by beeping monitors and the sterile walls of the hospital, it felt like nothing else mattered but the two of you.
FORT RICASOLI, MALTA — DAY
The sun was high over Fort Ricasoli, the Mediterranean breeze carrying a salty tang as waves crashed against the nearby shore. The reconstructed Roman Colosseum loomed grandly in the fort, its grandeur a perfect backdrop for the epic Gladiator II production. You stepped out of the transport van, sunglasses shielding your eyes from the bright Maltese sun, a bag slung over your shoulder filled with Pedro’s essentials—medication, snacks, and a cold water bottle you knew he’d try to avoid drinking unless reminded.
As you walked toward the set, Pedro spotted you first, his face lighting up in a way that made your heart ache with affection. He was seated in the shade near the makeup tent, his left arm encased in a royal blue cast that made him look both ridiculous and endearing.
“Hi,” you called, setting your bag down beside him. “I’m here to be your nurse.”
Pedro’s grin widened, his dark eyes softening. “You’re more than my nurse. You’re my lifesaver. And I love you so much.”
You rolled your eyes playfully, leaning down to press a quick kiss to his forehead. “How’s the arm?”
“It’s humiliating,” he muttered, holding up the cast as if it were a mark of disgrace. “Everyone keeps staring at it. Or laughing. Or both.”
“There’s nothing humiliating about needing help once in a while, my love,” you said gently, brushing a curl from his forehead. “Besides, it’s a great conversation starter.”
“Oh, yeah. Real smooth. ‘Hi, I’m Pedro Pascal, and I fell down a flight of stairs like a medieval jester.’”
You smothered a laugh just as Joseph Quinn sauntered by, pausing dramatically to give Pedro an exaggerated salute. “How’s the mighty warrior today? Still battling gravity, I see.”
“Go away,” Pedro groaned, waving his good arm dismissively.
“You’re a walking PSA now,” Fred Hechinger added as he passed. “Don’t text and walk down stairs, kids!”
Denzel Washington approached next, shaking his head with mock solemnity. “And here I thought I was the one who’d pull a stunt like that.”
“Traitors,” Pedro muttered, pulling you closer as if you could shield him from the teasing.
Coco, his ever-sassy hair stylist, smirked as she fixed his curls. “Just make sure she doesn’t trip over your ego next.”
“Coco!” Pedro whined, but his cheeks flushed, his pout making him look boyish and undeniably adorable.
Ridley Scott ambled over, his tone a mix of concern and exasperation. “Take it easy, Pedro. You’re not 25 anymore.”
“Gee, thanks, Ridley,” Pedro huffed, pulling you against him as if seeking comfort.
The day pressed on, the heat making Pedro’s clinginess somehow both unbearable and heart-meltingly sweet. Despite the steady teasing from the cast and crew, he stuck close to you like a second shadow whenever he wasn’t on set, his blue cast drawing as much attention as his ever-present pout.
During a break, he tugged at your hand, a soft whine slipping from his lips. “Go with me?”
You glanced up from the book you were pretending to read. “Go where?”
“Craft services,” he said, gesturing toward the shaded area where snacks and cold drinks awaited. “I’m starving, and I need moral support.”
“You literally just had a protein bar,” you teased, but stood anyway, slipping your hand into his.
“As long as you hold my hand,” you added with a smirk, letting him lead the way.
His good hand entwined with yours, his thumb brushing lazy circles over your skin as you walked. “You know I’m not letting go, right?”
“I wouldn’t expect anything less.”
Reaching the craft services tent, Pedro made a beeline for the iced lemonade, his cast making the process comically awkward. You reached over to help him hold the cup steady as he poured, ignoring the amused glances from the crew around you.
“I got it,” he insisted, though his pouty tone betrayed his frustration.
“Sure you do, Mr. Dexterity,” you teased. “Here, let me.”
As you steadied the cup, Paul Mescal appeared beside you, a mischievous grin plastered across his face. “What’s it like being Pedro’s personal assistant and cuddle therapist?”
Pedro narrowed his eyes, his body shifting slightly as if to shield you from Paul’s teasing. “She’s an angel,” he declared, his tone defensive. “Unlike all of you degenerates.”
Paul laughed, grabbing a handful of chips. “Touché.”
Connie Nielsen joined the growing group, her warm smile softening the teasing atmosphere. “An angel with the patience of a saint,” she agreed. “He’s lucky to have you.”
You squeezed Pedro’s hand, glancing up at him with a playful glint in your eye. “Oh, I know.”
Pedro leaned down, his voice low and sweet in your ear. “Remind me to buy you something shiny and expensive later.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” you whispered back, brushing a kiss to his cheek just as Coco walked by, her ever-present smirk firmly in place.
“Are we making out by the lemonade now?” she quipped, adjusting Pedro’s wig as she passed. “Just don’t knock over the drink dispenser, Casanova.”
Pedro groaned, but you could see the corner of his mouth twitching, betraying his amusement.
When Pedro was shooting, you stayed nearby, perched under an umbrella with a bottle of water and a timer set for his next dose of medication. He’d been restless all morning, constantly checking in between takes to make sure you were still there.
The moment the director called cut, Pedro scanned the area until his eyes landed on you. A small smile tugged at his lips as he made a beeline toward you, his costume slightly dusty from the action sequence.
“Hydrate,” you ordered the moment he reached you, holding out the water bottle.
He wrinkled his nose but took it, his good hand struggling to unscrew the cap. You wordlessly reached over to help, earning a sheepish look from him.
“You know,” he said after a long sip, “you’re bossier than Ridley.”
“You love it,” you countered, wiping the sweat from his brow with a small towel you’d tucked into your bag.
Pedro’s lips curved into a soft smile, his gaze lingering on you. “I do,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “A little too much.”
Your heart squeezed at the tenderness in his tone, and you reached up to brush a stray curl from his forehead. “Good. Now go back to work. Ridley’s glaring at us.”
He glanced over his shoulder, spotting the director gesturing for him to return. “Fine,” he grumbled, but not before pressing a quick kiss to your forehead.
As he walked back toward the set, Ridley shook his head, a faint smile on his face. “That woman of yours has you wrapped around her little finger.”
Pedro shrugged, a smirk playing on his lips. “Don’t I know it.”
THE XARA PALACE RELAIS & CHÂTEAUX, MALTA — EVENING
The day had taken its toll on both of you, but by the time you returned to the cozy luxury of the hotel suite, Pedro’s exhaustion only seemed to amplify his need for affection. As soon as the door clicked shut behind you, he flopped dramatically onto the small couch, casting a forlorn look your way.
“Come here,” he said, his good arm extended toward you like a lifeline.
You chuckled, slipping off your sandals. “I thought you were tired.”
“I am,” he replied, his lips twitching into a pout. “But I’ll sleep better if you’re right here.”
Shaking your head fondly, you joined him on the couch, only to be pulled down against his side the moment you were close enough.
“It’s too hot for this,” you teased, trying—and failing—to push against his firm hold.
“Don’t care,” Pedro murmured, nuzzling into the curve of your neck as if you were the only source of comfort in the world. “You make everything better.”
You sighed softly, your resolve melting as your fingers found their way into his curls. They were still slightly damp from his post-shoot shower, and you gently combed through them, marveling at how they always seemed to spring back into place.
“I think that’s the heatstroke talking,” you quipped, though your voice was warm with affection.
“No,” he said, his voice muffled against your skin. “That’s the love of my life talking.”
Your hand stilled for a moment, the weight of his words settling over you like a gentle wave. You pulled back slightly to look at him, but Pedro didn’t let you get far. His warm brown eyes met yours, brimming with sincerity that made your breath catch.
“You’re insufferable,” you said, though the tremor in your voice betrayed how deeply his words had affected you.
“And you’re perfect,” he countered, his tone so soft and certain it made your heart ache in the best way.
Your cheeks warmed, and you leaned down to press a tender kiss to his temple. “You’re lucky I love you,” you whispered, your lips brushing against his skin.
Pedro grinned, his good arm tightening around you as he pulled you even closer. “I’m the luckiest man alive.”
For a while, the two of you sat in a comfortable silence, the soft hum of the air conditioning blending with the distant sounds of the Maltese evening outside. Pedro’s breathing began to slow, his head resting heavily against your shoulder as he drifted off. His cast was awkwardly propped up on his chest, and you carefully adjusted a pillow beneath it, not wanting him to wake up sore.
As you gazed down at him, his face relaxed and peaceful in sleep, your heart swelled with a familiar ache—one born of overwhelming love. He might’ve been clingy and dramatic, prone to complaints about his cast and the heat, but he was also tender and selfless, with a way of making you feel like the most cherished person in the world.
You traced the curve of his jaw with the tips of your fingers, marveling at how even in his sleep, his hold on you never loosened. He was steady and constant in a way that made you feel safe, loved, and utterly at home.
He might’ve fallen down the stairs, but it felt like you were the one falling—deeper in love with him every single day.
Later that night, as the two of you lay tangled together in the king-sized bed, Pedro stirred, his voice groggy but laced with warmth.
“Are you still awake?”
“Barely,” you murmured, your head resting against his uninjured shoulder. “Why?”
He shifted slightly, his fingers grazing over your arm in lazy circles. “Just wanted to say… thank you.”
“For what?”
“For taking care of me. For putting up with me being clingy. For loving me even when I’m ridiculous,” he said, his voice soft but earnest.
You smiled in the darkness, pressing a kiss to his chest. “It’s not putting up with you, Pedro. It’s just loving you. And it’s the easiest thing I’ve ever done.”
His breath hitched, and he leaned down to press a lingering kiss to your forehead. “I don’t deserve you,” he whispered, his words carrying the weight of unspoken emotion.
“You deserve everything,” you replied, your voice firm despite the tears prickling at your eyes.
Pedro’s arms tightened around you, and in that moment, the world outside the four walls of your suite seemed to fade away. There was only the two of you, tangled together in love and gratitude, the promise of another day together stretching out before you like a gift.
And as you drifted off to sleep, cradled in his embrace, you couldn’t imagine a place you’d rather be.
COASTS OF MALTA — MORNING
The morning sun bathed the harbor in a soft, golden glow as you and Pedro stepped onto the pristine deck of the yacht, greeted by the lively chatter of his castmates and the crew. The day promised adventure—an exploration of Malta’s dazzling coastlines, including the famed Blue Lagoon, Crystal Lagoon, and the secretive caves on Comino. The air smelled of salt and freedom, and the water, impossibly blue and inviting, stretched out like a gem-laden carpet before you.
Pedro lingered close to you, his blue cast slung in a casual sling, though it didn’t stop him from giving your hand a light squeeze. He leaned down, his voice low and teasing.
"Don’t get too excited," he murmured with a grin, his dark eyes gleaming. "You’ll make me look bad."
You bumped your shoulder into his, rolling your eyes. "I can’t help it if I’m more fun than you."
"More fun? Or more distracting?" His gaze flicked briefly to the bikini peeking out from your cover-up, his expression bordering on predatory before he quickly masked it with a playful smirk.
“Behave, Pascal,” you teased, your cheeks warming under his intense stare.
As the boat cruised toward its first stop, the Blue Lagoon, the mood was light and cheerful. Connie and Fred lounged near the bow, animatedly swapping stories with the crew, their laughter carrying over the soft sound of the waves. Coco flitted around like a hummingbird with her camera, capturing candid shots of the lively group. Near the railing, Paul was attempting to teach Denzel a ridiculous dance move, the two of them tripping over their own feet and causing more chaos than rhythm.
You stood near Pedro, feeling the sun’s warmth on your skin, the gentle breeze teasing at your cover-up. A playful grin spread across your face as you untied the knot at your waist, sliding the fabric off and tossing it onto a nearby lounge chair. The vibrant bikini beneath was perfectly chosen—bright and bold against your skin, hugging your curves in a way that made you feel confident and beautiful.
Pedro, seated comfortably in the shade with his injured arm resting on a cushion, froze mid-sip of his drink. His gaze locked onto you, his eyes darkening as they traced every inch of your form. Appreciation was clear in his expression, but it was the simmering heat in his stare that sent a thrill down your spine.
You stretched your arms over your head, feigning oblivion to his attention as you joined Coco and Paul in their antics. The movement made your waist curve just enough to draw a quiet groan from Pedro’s lips, which didn’t go unnoticed by Coco. She smirked, leaning down to whisper as she passed him.
“Subtle,” she teased, her voice dripping with amusement.
Pedro didn’t even attempt to hide his grin. His eyes stayed glued to you as he shrugged, unapologetic. “Can you blame me?”
Coco snorted. “Not one bit. But maybe cool it unless you want everyone else to notice how thirsty you are.”
“Let them,” Pedro muttered, mostly to himself. His tongue darted out to wet his lips as he watched you laugh with Paul, the way your body moved under the bright sun making it nearly impossible for him to look away.
When you caught his eye and shot him a playful wink, his good hand flexed against the armrest of his chair, the urge to pull you back to him almost too strong to resist.
Later, as you leaned over the edge of the boat, peering down at the water with Paul pointing out fish, Pedro’s voice rumbled low behind you.
“You’re enjoying yourself, aren’t you?”
You turned to find him standing close, his cast resting awkwardly at his side. “I am. The water’s beautiful,” you said with a smile, but his eyes weren’t on the water.
“They’re not the only thing,” he murmured, his gaze dropping to the curve of your hips, the dip of your waist.
Heat bloomed on your cheeks, but you couldn’t help the grin that tugged at your lips. “Pedro Pascal,” you teased, stepping closer. “Are you flirting with me on a boat in front of all your castmates?”
“Flirting?” He scoffed, his voice rich with amusement. “I’m just admiring. Can’t a man admire his girlfriend?”
“Girlfriend?” you repeated, arching a brow.
He smirked, leaning in just enough for his breath to ghost over your skin. “The girlfriend,” he corrected, his voice dropping into a tone that sent a shiver racing through you despite the heat.
You bit your lip, glancing around at the others, who were too distracted to notice the charged moment. “Behave yourself,” you whispered, though your heart raced at the way his good hand brushed lightly against your hip.
He grinned, leaning back with an exaggerated sigh. “I’m trying, but you’re not making it easy, sweetheart.”
The way he said it, rough and low, had your stomach doing flips. The teasing sparkle in his eyes told you he knew exactly the effect he was having on you—and he wasn’t the least bit sorry about it.
When the boat anchored near the Blue Lagoon, you practically bounced with excitement. “I’m going in!”
Pedro chuckled as you grabbed your snorkeling gear, pausing to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Try not to miss me too much,” you teased before hopping off the boat with an elegant dive.
“Not possible,” he called after you, his voice tinged with laughter.
The water was cool and crystal clear, every ripple catching the sunlight like scattered diamonds. You swam alongside Coco and Paul, laughing as he tried to outswim everyone only to splash clumsily when Coco teased him about his lack of grace. Schools of fish darted around you, their silvery bodies glimmering in the lagoon’s shallows, and the thrill of the moment made you forget the world beyond the sparkling blue waters.
Pedro watched from the deck, his good hand cradling a drink as his cast rested on his lap. He smiled softly, his heart swelling at the sight of you. You were so effortlessly kind, so radiant, laughing and splashing with his friends as if you’d known them your whole life.
“She’s really something,” Ridley remarked as he joined Pedro at the shaded table.
“Don’t I know it,” Pedro replied, his voice warm with pride.
“She’s good for you,” Ridley said simply, his tone laced with a rare softness.
Pedro glanced at the director, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah. She’s my soulmate.”
Later, you clambered back onto the boat, droplets of water clinging to your skin, sparkling in the sunlight as they traced lazy paths down your arms and legs. Your grin was infectious, the kind of radiant joy that could light up an entire room—or, in this case, the deck of the boat. Pedro’s eyes were glued to you, as though the rest of the world had faded into the background.
“Having fun?” he asked, his voice tinged with amusement but warm with affection.
“The best,” you replied breathlessly, grabbing a towel and wringing out your hair. “You should’ve come in with us. The water is incredible.”
He raised his cast dramatically, pulling a mock grimace. “In case you forgot, I’m a bit handicapped here.”
“Oh, poor baby,” you teased, crouching beside him. You leaned in to press a playful kiss to his cheek, your lips lingering just long enough to make him sigh. “Next time, I’ll stay on the boat with you. We can sulk together.”
Pedro’s good hand slid to your waist, pulling you closer before you could stand. “Don’t you dare,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble in your ear. “Watching you have fun out there is the next best thing to being in the water myself.”
You arched a brow, motioning to your bikini with a teasing grin. “You mean you like the view.”
Pedro’s lips curved into a slow, devilish smirk. His mouth brushed your ear as he whispered, “I love the view.”
The heat of his words sent a shiver down your spine, making your cheeks flush. You swatted at his chest playfully before standing and tossing the towel over your shoulder. “Careful, Pascal. You’re not supposed to overheat with that cast on.”
The boat anchored near the caves on Comino, the turquoise water shimmering like liquid glass. Pedro waved you off with a mock sternness, insisting you go explore while he stayed behind.
“I’ll hold down the fort,” he said, settling back into his chair with a small smirk. “Don’t get lost in there.”
You rolled your eyes, blowing him a kiss before diving into the water with Paul and Fred. The group swam toward the darkened entrance of the caves, their laughter echoing off the limestone walls. Inside, the sunlight filtered through cracks, casting dancing patterns on the rocky surfaces.
Pedro, stuck on the boat, didn’t seem to mind in the slightest. His gaze followed you like a shadow, lingering on the curve of your body as you moved effortlessly through the water. Every so often, you glanced back at the boat, catching him watching you. He didn’t even pretend to look away, his expression soft, adoring, and entirely unguarded.
When you returned, dripping wet and exhilarated, you plopped down beside him with a dramatic sigh, leaning your head against his shoulder.
“You’ve been staring at me all day,” you teased, your tone light but your heart pounding at the intensity of his attention.
Pedro turned his head slightly, brushing his lips against your temple. “Can you blame me?” he murmured. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
The sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten. You tilted your head to meet his gaze, your hand finding his on the armrest. “You’re laying it on thick today,” you joked, though your voice wavered just slightly.
“It’s the truth,” he countered simply, his thumb brushing across your knuckles.
Your moment was interrupted by Paul’s exaggerated wolf whistle from across the deck. “Get a room, you two!”
Fred chimed in with a loud groan. “Some of us are single and fragile!”
You laughed, your head falling back briefly before you turned to Pedro, lowering your voice so only he could hear. “They’re just jealous.”
“Damn right, they are,” Pedro said, leaning in close. “You’re all mine.”
The possessiveness in his tone was playful but sent your pulse racing nonetheless.
Later, as the boat rocked gently in the open waters, you sat on Pedro’s lap, his good arm wrapped securely around your waist. The sun had begun its descent, painting the sky in hues of pink and gold.
“Pedro,” you said softly, your fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on his thigh. “Can we stay like this forever?”
His eyes softened as he looked down at you, his smile tender. “I’d stay here with you forever if I could,” he replied, his voice filled with quiet certainty.
The weight of his words settled over you, grounding you in the moment. You bit your lip, leaning in closer until your noses brushed. “Please just kiss me already.”
Pedro didn’t need to be asked twice. His lips captured yours in a kiss that was slow and deliberate, full of unspoken promises and a depth of feeling that took your breath away. His hand splayed across your back, pulling you impossibly closer as the world around you seemed to disappear.
When you finally pulled apart, his forehead rested against yours, and he let out a soft laugh. “I think you might be my soulmate,” he said, his voice a mixture of awe and certainty.
Your eyes searched his, and for a moment, the noise of the others and the gentle lapping of the waves faded entirely. “I think you might be mine too,” you whispered, sealing the moment with another kiss.
Laughter and chatter echoed around you, the boat a hub of joy and togetherness, but for you and Pedro, time seemed to stand still. In his arms, surrounded by the beauty of Malta and the warmth of his love, you knew you were exactly where you were meant to be.
#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal x f!reader#pedro pascal x y/n#pedro pascal x you#pedro pascal x ofc#pedro pascal fanfic#real people fiction#pedro pascal smut#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal#gladiator 2#pedrito#marcus acacius#general acacius#pedrohub#joel miller x reader#pedro pascal x plus size reader#pedro pascal x reader masterlist#pedro pascal x reader series#marcus acacius x reader
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𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅?
been watching criminal minds lately and this guy does things to me😩
summary - you think your boss hates you but maybe it’s something else…
warning - slight sexual innuendos/tension, feeling hated, mentions of slight violence.
18+ only please, the gif and divider I use isn’t mine.
Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.
You thought he hated you and you didn’t have a clue why. Whenever you entered the room, he always seemed to grow angry. Did he question your position on the team?
You walked into the BAU, coffee in hand and a tired expression on your face. You couldn’t count how many times your boss kept you up, the thoughts and conclusions about him nagged you throughout your day and night. You had dreams that he kept you up in other fun ways but the universe wasn’t with you on this.
“L/N.” You blink, zoning back in as you nearly bump into someone. Your gaze moves up, feeling your insides twist at the sight of that damned beard. “Is it that hard to watch where you are going? Or are you planning to knock everyone down as you go?”
You cleared your throat, clutching your coffee tighter. “No sir. I wasn’t paying attention, it won’t happen again.”
His glare somehow hardens, you couldn’t help but wonder how one man could make you feel so small when you’ve built yourself up to never feel small again. “It better not. We don’t need an agent to be zoning out when we are out in the field.”
Before you can respond, he turns and heads up to his office. You stare ahead, brows furrowed and mouth slightly open.
“You alright, Y/n?” You hum, seeing Derek standing in front of you.
“Yeah,” You nod. “Just can’t wait to get this day over with.” You sigh, shaking your head and walk with him.
You let out a breath, the case had finally been solved and you guys caught the killer. You groaned as you relaxed into the jet, your muscles screaming to be stretched and massaged, your eyes fighting to stay open but you didn’t want to let your guard down even with your team. Especially not when Hotch sat across from you, his eyes never seeming to leave your form.
You didn’t even let out a sigh of relief when the plane landed, you were so tired and you still had paperwork to do when you got back. With a groan, you followed everyone else, the one man that keeps you anxious making sure to stay behind you even though he had every chance to go before you. Your eyes rolled when you notice everyone else leave in one car, leaving you and Hotch to drive together.
You hop into the passenger seat, resting your head against the glass. Unable to relax with the strange tension in the air, your eyes moved as you watched the scenery pass by before the car finally came to a stop. Just as you’re about to get out, Hotch speaks.
“Agent. What you did was reckless.”
Your brows furrow, wondering what you had done? The unsub had tackled you? Or did you miss something?
“Coming to work exhausted and unfocused is not what is expected when you work on my team. You put your life and the team’s life at risk.”
You turn, a frown and glare on your face. “Are you serious, Hotch?” You shake your head, hand grabbing the door handle and letting the door swing open as you stepped out. Without another word, you slam the door behind you, sick and tired of being hated for no reason.
You gasp as you’re suddenly pulled back and pressed against the car, eyes immediately connecting with Hotch’s as he looms over you. His eyes dark, mouth set into a frown. His hand slowly moves to your throat, resting it there. “You didn’t let me finish.” Your thighs press together as you try to swallow, your mouth suddenly feeling dry. “I can’t be distracted with making sure you’re okay while we’re out in the field.”
You blink, trying to clear your mind as your brows furrow. “….What?”
Were you wrong this whole time?
thank you for reading!
feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.
#imyourbratzdollwork#aaron hotchner fanfiction#aaron hotchner#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotch fanfiction#aaron hotch imagine#aaron hotch x you#aaron hotch fic#aaron hotch fluff#aaron hotch angst#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner fluff#aaron hotcher fic#aaron hotchner angst#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction#thomas gibson
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Like The Movies
Sirius Black x Bookworm!Reader
——————— ⋆☆ ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————
Summary: You meet a mysterious man in a bookshop who falls for your sunshine personality…
Warnings: Nothing serious (pun intended), grumpy x sunshine dynamic, Marlene once again being the best wingman (it’s a tradition atp), reader is referred to as a girl with she/her pronouns, reader is oblivious to Sirius’ flirting.
Word count: 0.7K
Masterlist
A/N: I couldn’t get this meet cute idea out of my head so I had to write it! Basically all fluff and no plot, Sirius just thinks you’re adorable <3
——————— ⋆☆ ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————
Ding!
The bell above the bookshop’s door rang in an echoing call as you stepped inside, a giddy smile spread across your face. You had finally finished your summer reading list, with a chilled breeze marking the end of your book-buying ban.
Preparing to hibernate in your cosy bedroom with a stack of classics, you skipped your way through the aisles to the counter of the store’s joint cafe.
Ordering a hot drink to keep off the chill of the midday breeze, you flashed a grateful grin at the blonde behind the counter as you rounded the aisles, making a beeline for the classic fiction.
You stumbled through the maze of novels, making mental notes of each book you had already read. You found yourself passing three aisles before you discovered a title you didn’t recognise.
Lifting the book to flick through the pages, your gaze intuitively lifted at the presence of someone further down the aisle.
That’s when you saw him.
A dark stroke of hair dropped down his shoulders, collecting in sweet spirals at his chest. His bright eyes held a dark splash of mischief in their depths as he towered over the shelves. His gaze was focused on the book in his hand, eyes flicking over the blurb on the back cover.
Peering over with curiosity, your eyes lit up at the title on the front as he flipped the book in his hands. “That’s my favourite! I’ve read it six times,” you blurted at the mystery man.
His gaze flicked to yours in an instant, a flash of surprise gracing his features before he relaxed into a soft smirk at the sight of you. “Would you recommend it, Dove?” He spoke with a lighthearted and teasing tone as he leisurely stepped closer to your ecstatic self.
“Absolutely! It’s a masterpiece, the author is so talented! You should totally read it,” you rambled, not catching the amusement mixed with adoration in the stranger’s eyes as he watched you.
His head tilted to the side like a curious puppy, listening intently as you gushed over the plot, the characters, the handsome romantic lead, and the optimistic heroine.
He slyly reached for a second copy of the same book on the shelf as you spoke, tucking it under the one already settled in his grasp. You were in your own world at this point, and the man couldn’t help but fluster at your adorable excitement over words on a page. What is this girl doing to me? he mentally asked himself.
She’s got me wrapped around her finger and she doesn’t even know it.
He was beginning to grow soft.
——————— ⋆☆ ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————
You eventually remembered to introduce yourself after a series of rambled facts about the book tumbled out of your mouth. The stranger found you to be the most endearing creature he’d ever met.
“I’m-“
“Sirius? Y’Iced latte’s ready!” He hurried over to the blonde behind the counter who finished his sentence, flashing you an apologetic smile over his shoulder with a slight blush to his cheeks.
Marlene’s gaze fell on the books held tightly in his hands with an arched eyebrow. “Sirius Black, reading a book? My, I thought I’d never see the day!” He laughed while motioning for her to keep her voice down, leaning in closer while you browsed.
“It seems I’ve taken a liking to the little bookworm over there, wriggled her way right into my heart,” he motioned towards you with a smirk as Marlene spots you curiously reading the blurbs of various classics. “Said this was her favourite,” he held up the books in his hands with an uncharacteristically bashful smile, brushing the gesture off nonchalantly. “Didn’t have the heart to tell her I was buying it for Moony’s birthday.”
Marlene rolled her eyes, passing him his drink along with a napkin and a pen. “You’re hopeless, Black, really,” she whispered, turning around to pick up another order.
His eyes lit up at the sight of the pen, “You really do know me well, Marls! And to think I only keep you around for the coffee,” he quipped, though his tone held no bite. He scribbled on the napkin before Marlene passed your drink into his grasp, sending her a final look of gratitude before turning back to you.
“Here you go, love. Now, what was that sequel about again? What happens next?” You glanced up as he handed you your drink with a sweet grin, oblivious to the napkin sitting on top with a phone number scrawled across it, waiting to be discovered as you launched into an explanation with a giggle.
“Wait- no! I can’t tell you, spoilers!”
——————— ⋆☆ ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————
#sirius black x reader#sirius being sirius#sirius black#sirius black x you#sirius black x y/n#sirius#the marauders era#the marauders#marauders#dead gay wizards from the 70s#marauders era#all the young dudes#grumpy x sunshine#meet cute#laufey#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter#oneshot#sirius black one shot#sirius x reader#sirius x you#sirius x y/n#atyd marauders#atyd#marlene mckinnon#self insert#x reader#x y/n#x you#marauders imagine
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Hey, could I get an imagine with Ekko x introverted!GN!reader who looks scary, serious and cold at first glance, but is actually just socially awkward and very geeky and silly once you get to know them? Like, they're very creative and love coming up with stories, as well as infodumping about random stuff they're into at the moment, like criminology or extinct animals.
Thanks!
Unmasking the Introvert | Ekko x gn!reader
Pairings: Ekko x gn!reader (romantic)
Type of fic: I’m not sure
Warnings: None
Summary: Ekko is slowly getting to know your true side
—————
Ekko had always been intrigued by you. From the first time he’d caught a glimpse of you in Zaun, he’d pegged you as the silent type, intense with that don’t-mess-with-me aura. You were usually found in the corner of any room you entered, often watching others with a gaze that could cut through glass. Most people didn’t get close enough to try talking to you, content with spreading rumors instead: some said you had a secret criminal past; others thought you might have alchemical powers that could hypnotize anyone with a glance.
But Ekko didn’t buy it. He knew better than most that appearances could be deceiving. So, he decided to talk to you himself, casually striking up a conversation at the Hideout one day after he’d noticed you tinkering with something in the corner.
“Hey, whatcha working on?” Ekko leaned over your shoulder, watching as your hands deftly tightened screws and adjusted wires.
Caught off guard, you jerked slightly, glancing up at him with wide eyes. But you quickly masked it, pulling up that familiar guarded expression, making Ekko smirk a bit. He wasn’t easily intimidated.
“Just… something I’m building,” you replied coolly, your voice steady but your eyes shifting nervously. “Helps me think.”
Intrigued, Ekko leaned against the wall, arms crossed. “Mind if I watch?”
You didn’t answer immediately, but after a brief pause, you nodded. As he watched, you slowly began explaining each piece of machinery, your voice growing a bit stronger and more assured with each word. After a while, he noticed the hardened look in your eyes beginning to soften. By the time you’d finished the explanation, your whole demeanor had relaxed just a bit.
A few days later, Ekko bumped into you again, and you couldn’t help but launch into an animated explanation about something random you’d been reading about—extinct animals. Before you knew it, you were on a full-blown tangent about the Moa bird, a giant flightless bird from New Zealand that had been hunted to extinction centuries ago.
“They were enormous, like ten feet tall, with these long necks! And did you know their legs were so powerful that one kick could shatter bones?” Your eyes lit up as you spoke, hands gesturing wildly. “It’s kinda sad… but also fascinating how ecosystems just change when one creature disappears.”
Ekko just grinned, genuinely enjoying the infodump. He’d never expected that someone as intense-looking as you could be so endearing in such a nerdy way. “That’s cool, I didn’t know that. What got you into extinct animals?”
You shrugged, a small smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “I just… like learning about things. And sharing them, even though I know most people think it’s boring.”
“Boring? Nah, I think it’s cool. You got any other fun facts up your sleeve?”
You blinked in surprise, before diving into your latest fascination—criminology. He listened as you passionately detailed the science behind forensic psychology, your eyes lighting up as you explained how criminals are profiled. At one point, you started mimicking a detective’s voice, spinning a little story about a fictional thief in Zaun who’d slipped through the Enforcers’ hands multiple times.
Ekko laughed, “You’d make a great storyteller. Ever thought of putting all these ideas into a book or something?”
The suggestion took you aback. “I don’t know… I just think people wouldn’t really get it.”
“Bet they would,” Ekko said with a reassuring smile. “And hey, even if they don’t, I’m all ears.”
Over time, your quiet bond grew stronger. Ekko made a habit of stopping by to hear your latest “random obsession,” and you found yourself looking forward to sharing with him, little by little letting go of the intimidating front you put up for the world.
One night, he found you on a rooftop, writing notes in a worn-out notebook by the light of the moon. You looked up as he approached, giving him a slight nod in greeting, but he could see the glint of excitement in your eyes.
“What’s on your mind tonight?” he asked, settling down beside you.
You paused for a second, before leaning in and saying, “Alright, so imagine this: a heist, set in Piltover, but the thieves are all masked vigilantes from Zaun… and they have this backstory, see, where they all have these ridiculous alter-egos…”
And as you spun your tale, Ekko watched you with a smile, feeling lucky to be the one who got to see you like this: genuine, animated, and maybe a little silly.
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i still love you, i promise
18+. smut. mentions of domestic violence (eddie is NOT the perpetrator!!!) exhusband!eddie x fem reader. this is far more nice domesticity than smut
if i’m being honest i don’t like the ending to this buuuuut i wanted to put it out because it’s been a while!! i have some holiday themed stuff cooking that i want to post before christmas so let’s all pray i actually finish it! i also wanted to just disclaim that yes cheating is bad yadda yadda yadda but we make an exception for fiction and especially for dear reader and eddie okay!?
☾ ⋆。°✩
the tv rumbles on in the background, eddie’s eyes darting to the clock to determine whether another episode would be wise or not.
fuck it.
it plays on anyway, illuminating his dark living room and his terrible posture. he’d spend another couple hours here before finally dragging himself off to bed somewhere between one and two.
he jumps out of his skin at the sound of hammering, a chorus of fists pummel the door, startling him from his slouch. whichever asshole had the audacity to bang on his door at this time would certainly live to regret it.
he swings open the door with such force, his fist already clenched, expecting to beat the ever-loving shit out of someone only to find three sleepy faces smiling up at him.
and you.
stood behind your grinning sons, completely dejected as you balance what looked to be the entirety of your belongings in your arm.
“what the f-“ managing to stop himself as the boys run around his legs to get inside.
his eyes fall bank to your face, the shining bright maroon bruise adorning your cheek only becoming apparent to him now.
“what happened?” eddie frets, caressing your cheek with a gentle hand, “what the fuck happened?” he didn’t really need you to tell him, that much was obvious.
you sigh, he hadn’t seen you this low in years, no witty quips or snarling insults. just a permanent scowl and dried tears on your cheeks.
“can you just..” moving your head from his grasp, “can you put them to bed for me? please?” desperation rippling through your tone.
“yeah.. yeah of course,” stepping out of the way to welcome you inside, “but you’re telling me what the fuck happened after.”
-
it’s at least forty five minutes before they settle, eddie growing more and more impatient with every stifled giggle and unnecessary request for the bathroom or water.
when he does eventually close the door and make his way back to the kitchen, you’re stood over the sink, opened beer bottle in hand as you stare out of the window onto the street.
“what happened?” he asks gently, hoping not to startle you though you jump anyway.
eddie grabs a bag of opened peas from his freezer, storming over to press the cold bag to your now, very violet cheekbone.
you sigh again, much different to the usual exhausted mutters you gave him, “it doesn’t matter- thank you for doing that.”
“too fucking right it does- did he hit you? did he touch the boys?” his grip on the bag tightening as his knuckles glow white.
“no, he didn’t touch the boys,” placing your hand on top of his, taking the bag of vegetables from him, “just me.”
eddie can’t help himself, the rage bubbling over once again, “i’ll kill him- i’ll go over there right now and kill that fucker,” searching for the key to his van, anticipating a night in jail for whatever was about to happen.
your frown only grows deeper, “don’t be fucking stupid,” a disapproving frown etched on your face, watching him flap about the kitchen only to pause, blinking at you.
“he hit you,” annunciating the words just in case you didn’t already know.
you hum in acknowledgment, taking another swig of beer, “you got any cigarettes?”
eddie pauses again, completely astonished that you could be so calm about this. but, he’s nothing if not your willing servant, getting the box out of his pocket to hold out to you.
“can you be serious about this? please?” withholding the box just before your grasp.
“what do you want me to say eddie? he punched me in the face! it’s done, it’s over. i just wanna have a cigarette and drink my fucking beer, okay?” the dejected look on your face makes his heart sore, he hadn’t wanted to upset you, just get you to agree to him going over there and beating his ass.
he nods, pointing at the balcony doors, “alright.. alright,” giving up entirely, “go ahead.”
eddie slips out into the cool night with you, dropping the cig in your open palm, lighting his own in a bid to calm down.
“thank you, by the way,” exhaling softly, “it means a lot, it’s just-,” you sigh, looking off into the distance, “it’s a lot for me to deal with right now, you don’t need to worry about me.”
that was all you needed to say, a hint of guilt hitting his chest. eddie hadn’t meant to be so abrupt, so pissed off, it had just washed over him in a scornful fury.
“i’m always gonna worry ‘bout you.”
your lips crack into a smile for the first time this evening, relieving a little regret from his heart.
“now smoke your cigarette and drink your fucking beer,” parroting your earlier outburst, with love of course. far too much love really, so much so he didn’t know what to do with it all.
-
the first time actually sleeping next you again had never meant to be on his pitiful pull out couch, it felt almost unnatural.
eddie slept here a lot, especially when he had the boys, but he can’t help but feel you deserve better.
not that either of you are sleeping, you’re tossing and turning too much for him to drift off to sleep.
you sigh for the four hundredth time, turning onto your back with a disgruntled huff.
“can’t sleep?” he asks, knowing the answer already.
you startle, expecting him to have been asleep, “no, not really.”
“yeah i can tell,” deciding to spring some humour back into such a glum night, “you haven’t stayed still all night,” rolling onto his back to join you in staring at the dark ceiling.
“i’m not a good wife-“ completely out of left field, forcing his brows to knit together in confusion.
“that’s not true,” eddie interjects, pulling your body into his chest, really just trying to stop this self loathing shit you had going on.
you chuckle, wrapping an arm over his waist, “i’ve cheated on him like a thousand times eddie, i know i’m not.”
“only with me right?” he asks curiously, unprepared for any answer other than yes.
“yeah, only you.”
“then i don’t think that counts,” entirely too confident, “i’m your ex husband, he should know that you’d never be completely over me.”
he can feel your chest rise and fall nestled into his side, a deep sigh escaping your lips before slinging your leg over his waist to scoot on top, his hands don’t hesitate to slide downward to rest on your doughy hips.
“hey, at least you might be invited to the next wedding,” your arms snake around his neck, running your fingers through the hair on the nape of his neck.
this sort of intimacy was what eddie missed most, just being able to touch you whenever he liked. starting out completely innocent just to naturally slip into something more. christ, he’d pay millions to have it back.
especially when you looked like this, your ragged oversized shirt and a pair of shorts from before bill clinton’s administration. perfect.
“uhh no, i won’t be going unless it’s me you’re marrying,” sliding his hands from your hips to your ass, resisting the urge to growl as he does so.
you laugh, breath brushing against his cheeks, “is that right?”
you’re so close, you may as well just meld into one body, a mess of limbs and parts. keeping your face, for obvious reasons.
“yeah, so don’t forget it,” grabbing a handful of your luscious ass, savouring the way you felt in his grasp.
your eyes roll back on their own, shifting only slightly to discover his dick stiffening, the rising tent in his scruffy old boxers.
“are you hard already?”
eddie chooses to ignore your sneering tone, his voice thick with exhaustion, “what do you think?”
“of course you are,” sucking the backs of your teeth, “what’re you? 15?” but your thighs spread, moving into a more comfortable position for what was obviously about to happen.
“you’re a weirdo,” he laughs, mindlessly grinding upwards, planting his feet firmly on the shitty mattress to help keep you upright.
“mmhmm,” humming to yourself as you lean forwards, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose, “and you love it.”
eddie sighs, moving your hips backwards with his hands, “you’re gonna have to get off of me if you’re not gonna do anything,” the feel of your warmth against his growing erection only making it worse, growling with need.
your hands trail down his chest, stopping at his pudgy tummy, a feat he’s sworn to get rid of for years now. “what makes you think i’m not gonna do anything?” tucking two fingers inside the waistband of his strained boxers, teasing them down like he won’t cum right then and there.
he hums, his breathing becoming laboured, “i- fuck, i dunno,” losing all coherent train of thought when you tug his boxers down below his heavy balls, dick springing up against his stomach.
your tongue peeks out, wetting your lips, “thank you,” coming out of nowhere, “for letting us- or- me stay here,” hands lingering on his ribs.
“of course,” a no-brainer, really. you were and always have been the love of his life, he’d do anything for you anytime, “you don’t ever have to thank me for shit,” giving your ass a generous squeeze for good measure.
“yeah i know,” exhaling as you shuffle upward, lousy shorts pulled to the side as you fist his dick, positioning his tip at your sopping entrance, “but i’m gonna.”
and with that, he slides inside, welcomed into your warmth with a soft moan, your hands finding his sighing shoulders to rest on as you move slowly.
it’s all painfully slow, knowing you weren’t alone and ran the risk of being interrupted at any point meant a milder version of events than what this room usually saw.
he plants both hands on your cheeks, bringing your face in close, “you can get married a thousand more times and it’d still always be you,” breathlessly, pressing his sticky forehead against yours.
“st-stop it,” a shuddered breath, his gooey sentiments making your cheeks flush.
“i mean it,” eddie’s sure he can feel your eyelashes flutter against his own, “no one’ll ever come close,” stilling his hips, your tepid smile and laboured breathing was enough to make him cum right now.
“eddie,” you coo, coming to a halt to send a warning glare in his direction, “i’m still married,” as if soppy words meant more than the continued torrid affair you’d been having.
“i’m literally inside of you,” he chuckles, finding your waist to caress instead, “you know this already.”
“mhm you are,” shifting on your knees, obviously hoping to distract him from his confession, “so shut up and fuck me,” whispering harshly, your finger lingers over his lips.
he nods, losing the battle anyway. his hips thrust upward, meeting yours in a rushed manner, you gasp softly only tightening your grasp on his skin.
the couch creaks, the springs begging for solace as you begin to move with him, containing your pretty little mewls within. eddie already knows he’s going to cum quick, he hadn’t seen you in weeks and even his hand had started to bore him.
“oh shit,” he groans, running a hand underneath your shirt and up your flexed back, “i’m not gonna last,” gazing into your half-moon eyes, not put off by your growing smile.
“no?” bouncing your hips faster, deliberately clenching your pussy around his cock, spurring him on for a disappointing showing, “you can’t wait f’me?” goading him, wanting him to cum just so you can hold it over his head.
eddie pants in time with your frantic hips, allowing you to take control completely. he loves it like this, when you just use him to get off. barely able to keep watching you through hooded eyes, the sight of your wild waist sending him into overdrive.
“nuhuh,” he strains, wetting his lips as he tries his utmost to keep going, “i can’t.. you feel so good,” through gritted teeth, his heels dig into the couch as a means to ground himself, prolong his climax for as long as possible.
“c’mon eds,” pressing your damp forehead to his, “‘m nearly there,” positioning yourself so he nestles into your sweet spot, a clammy hand palms at the back of his neck as you desperately rut your hips.
concentrated gasps fall out of his parted lips, reminding himself to keep breathing concurrently with every jerk and swing of your body.
sticky skin meshes into one, he doesn’t know where you end and he begins, just a heaving pile of limbs on his couch.
he’s trying to think of something, anything else to stop him busting his nut, but you’re whimpering, making these soft sounds and your eyes are rolling and it’s all too much.
he’s thrusting upward without much thought, spilling over in a whirlwind of his nerves exploding and guttural grunts. filling you up, completely unapologetic in the moment, he knows he’ll make it up to you somehow.
eddie can’t even comprehend your annoyed plight, his ears ringing and his vision fuzzy while you settle on his thighs. he can just about make out your frustrated pout, scowling at him as he floats slowly back to earth.
“you’re so mean,” cupping his chin to force his eyes to meet yours, “i can’t believe you.”
his eyelids flutter, sinking into the pillows with you still perched atop his thighs, “sorry sweetheart.. not my fault you feel so good,” sighing as the sleep takes over his eyes, lazily running his fingers over your supple thighs.
you groan, sliding off of his lap to your spot next to him, pulling the blanket up and over you both. at least maybe now you’d get some sleep, though eddie’s not certain he will. thoughts of beating the life out of david crowd his mind, clearly not as empathetic or understanding as you were.
he snakes an arm around your waist, watching your face as your features settle, embracing the tired aching of your bones.
-
an ear-piercing, blood-curdling screech serves as your alarm, closely followed by three lots of footsteps banging down the wooden stairs in his apartment.
eddie can’t have had more than three hours of sleep. holding onto your twitching body, preoccupied with guilt and anger over your bruised cheek instead. if he had been a better husband, this wouldn’t have ever happened.
but now, he’s forced awake by your children, groaning into the pillow as their limbs flail and scramble onto the couch, screaming about breakfast and cartoons.
“alright alright!” he huffs, still gruff from his lack of sleep, “get the hell off me,” shielding your head with his arms while they settle into place.
“do we have have to go to school?” oscar perks up, an opportunist like his father.
“uhh yeah,” you emerge from the blanket cocoon to scold your idiotic children, “what makes you think you’d be skipping today?”
“because we’re at dads house, we only come here on the weekend,” so innocent, though you can both see right through it.
“it’s tuesday,” you chuckle, “you’re going to school,” tipping them from your legs to stand up.
there’s an unexpected sadness that settles in his chest, a knowing that he’d missed out on this for too long because he fucked up in the first place.
eddie climbs out of the makeshift bed anyway, masking his lingering sadness with a cough, determined to make his incompetence up to you somehow.
“i’ll get them ready,” he assures, leaning ever so nonchalantly against the counter, “go, take my bed, you need it more than i do,” it’d quite simply take all of his might not to crawl up the stairs and join you, leaving you alone in his bed was just torture.
you nod, muttering a quiet thanks before shuffling off, running your fingers over benji’s mop of hair for good measure as you go. he was the only one that had inherited eddie’s curls, though unlike his dad’s, his sat nearly atop his head and not hastily thrown into a bun like his.
“alright freaks, what’s for breakfast?”
-
toast and ice cream apparently.
a long battle of no’s and absolutely not’s ended with eddie conceding to his feral children, on the condition that they had toast as well as their ice cream.
it worked, for the most part, until it came time to leave and oscar couldn’t find his pencil case and benji’s shoes needed to be tied.
but they’d made it to the gates only a few minutes late, bundling them out of his car and far far away for eight hours.
he still needed to call the shop and let them know he wouldn’t be in, not for a couple days at least. you were his priority now, not that you hadn’t ever been, they all knew he’d drop work if you asked.
eddie leaps up to his apartment, desperate to get back to you. he wasn’t expecting to find you in the kitchen, washing the dishes from his chaotic excuse for breakfast.
“did they have ice cream for breakfast?” you ask the second he enters the room. your tone gives nothing away, forcing him to answer cautiously in case yes was the wrong answer.
“it’s the only thing they’d eat,” he holds his hands up in admission of his guilt, “they had toast too though,” sidling up besides the sink, studying your eyes to grasp whether you were pissed.
“alright,” nodding as you drain the sink, wiping your hands with the dish towel, “they had a shitty night, ice cream is fine,” shrugging as you turn to him.
is this a ruse? were you about to release your real frustration? eddie’s not sure and he’s not about to find out.
“how ‘bout some food? we could go out?” changing the subject entirely, a safe, but wise move.
you blink, glancing at the clock, “you don’t have work?”
he shakes his head no, “called in, told them you needed me here so.. you’re stuck with me,” sliding closer along the countertop, a bashful grin overcoming his features.
he’s not sure how long this’ll last but he’s going to soak up every last minute of you being here, letting him dote on you instead of refusing, a semblance of the old life he so dearly missed.
“i want a burger,” stating plainly, knowing he’d get you anything you asked for.
“i can do that,” he eyes your disheveled shirt and no pants, “you wanna get changed first or are we just going like this?”
you snarl before scurrying off to get ready. eddie finds it difficult to not let his heart swell, he’d never fallen out of love with you exactly, but he’s certain he’s falling in love with you all over again.
-
eddie’s not complaining at all, but he’d forgotten just how long you took to get ready sometimes.
an hour later and you reappear, the maroon marking still adorning your face, though you look a little less tired and a little more like you.
deciding on a benny’s special over shitty fast food which he didn’t mind. eddie used to work at benny’s right around the time you got pregnant with oscar, it was a short lived job though, he wasn’t exactly cut out for customer service even in your local dinner.
benny was kind enough to let him go with his whole pay check, he’d always had a soft spot for him.
“are you getting out or..” his hand pauses on the door handle, staring at your frozen body.
“uh no? not with this,” gesturing to the bright purple bruise decorating your face.
eddie’s brows furrow, you weren’t one to care about what people thought of you, especially not something shallow like a bruise.
“why? d’you think anyone’s gonna care?” completely dumbfounded by your hesitance.
you scoff, “no eds, i don’t want anyone to think that you did it.”
oh.
“oh.. shit, yeah,” it was so unfathomable to him to ever think about hitting you that the the thought had just never crossed his mind, he would never, not even if his life depended on it.
“yeah,” you repeat, laughing at his ignorance, “i’m doing this for you,” staying put in your seat, a self-righteous nod as he clambers out, having already memorised your order on the journey over.
he can’t stop thinking about it.
that anyone could ever assume he’d do that to you.
he lost his temper sometimes but not like that, never at you. it makes him nauseous to even imagine, babbling through his order while all his brain can fathom is you.
eddie’s more sure than ever that he had to do whatever it took to keep you next to him forever. you liked to joke a lot about your divorce, how it was the best two thousand bucks you’ve ever spent, but eddie’s not sure it’s at all true.
he slides back into the car, holding the food in his lap while he, rather shoddily, thinks this through.
“what? what’s wrong?” oblivious to the inner workings of his head, the buzzing feeling of electricity coursing through his veins.
the car is silent, though he’s certain you can hear his brain ticking along before he takes a hold of your hand.
“i’ve been thinking,” your arm going limp with his touch, befuddled by his sudden change in demeanour.
“oh no,” laughing quietly, letting him continue whatever this was, “that’s never a good thing.”
he slides his ring from his finger, still unable to part with the commitment he’d made, and slides it onto your, notably empty, fourth finger, “i want you to have this, and i want you to keep it until you’re ready- whether that’s a couple of months or twenty years,” twisting the metal around and around, “i’ll be there.”
“eddie,” too gentle for scolding, perhaps it was purely pitiful instead. but your eyes soften when they catch his forlorn gaze, squeezing his fingers for good measure.
a sign that maybe not all hope was lost.
#eddie munson#eddie munson smut#eddie munson fic#eddie munson x y/n#ex husband!eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson fluff#kinda sorta
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FREAKS ON A FRIDAY
COLLEGE BF!WOOYOUNG / FEM READER
⤏ Synopsis: Your boyfriend, Wooyoung, is as cool as a cucumber. You, not so much. When you go into a jealous fit at a Friday night party, he's nothing short of amused at how cute you are. And he knows just how to simmer down your hot temper.
⤏ Genre(s): *drabble, smut (what's new?)
⤏ Content: college!au, established relationship!au, non-idol!au
⤏ NSFW Warning(s): unprotected piv, mean switch!Wooyoung, switch!fem reader, face slapping, hair pulling, oral (fem receiving), nipple play, dirty talk, possessiveness, reader has nipple piercings, please keep in mind that both are quite masochistic
⤏ Note*: this content is completely fictional.
“My eyes are up here, Dickhead!”
“But my eyes are down here, Sugartits; not my fault they’re right in front of me.”
Your boyfriend, Wooyoung, sat himself on the toilet lid, his hands that found home on your hips pulling you closer as you stumbled between his parted thighs. He wasn’t fazed at all by your eyes that were blown out in anger, veiling that shit-eating grin you knew all too well behind a composed smirk. If it weren’t obvious already, it took a lot more than your cute little tantrums to have an effect on him. He knew how to handle that short fuse of yours like clockwork.
“You are not allowed to call me that right now.”
“C’mon, you love it when I call you that,” he slurred, nuzzling his face between your breasts in the process. To his dismay, you wriggled out of his hold, leaning against the wall before tucking your chest under your arms.
“Why don’t you ask Kristen or Kirsten—whatever the hell her name is—to let you motorboat her tits?” you spat.
Wooyoung couldn’t resist the laugh that fought hard to escape his lips, shaking his head and adjusting the shades that kept most of his bangs away from his face. He didn’t let your seething demeanor stop him from joining you once again, pressing his frame gently against you with a hand resting on the wall beside your head. The other cradled your chin between his fingers, and that grin of his showed up in its full form.
“There’s no girl’s tits I wanna motorboat other than yours, Baby.”
You rolled your eyes, hoping that was enough to distract yourself from your thumping heart.
“Well, aren’t you such a romantic?” you said, voice laced with sarcasm.
A few knocks at the door stole your attention for a fleeting moment, and you both opt to ignore them. Wooyoung sighed once the knocks became louder, briefly retracting from you to yell out, “It’s occupied!”
“Not anymore. I’m leaving,” you muttered. But before you could move, he’s got you cornered again, and it’s your turn to sigh. Despite the smile still lingering on his lips, he sounded more serious this time.
“How many times do I have to tell you that Kirsten’s just a friend? You jealous girl,” he said, no malice in his tone. Rather, he was quite gentle with how he spoke to you.
“She was playing with your hair!”
“And she has a girlfriend, Baby—who was right beside her.”
Your lips parted and closed a few times as you tried to gather your words, but you didn’t know what to say. He took it as a sign to continue reassuring you, placing his hand on your warm cheek.
“I’m sorry I didn’t make it clear to you, I should’ve. I don’t see her that way at all; she definitely does not see me that way. I’ll consider your feelings more from now on, okay?”
Your lips formed a pout, and you couldn’t bring yourself to look him in the eyes as embarrassment washed over you.
“I’m sorry for overreacting. It’s just that…your hair—”
“You like being the only one pulling on it, huh?”
He didn’t hide that he noticed how his question had caught you off guard.
“W-What?”
“Don’t play all ‘shy girl’ with me now. You know, I can still feel the effects of how hard you pulled on my hair last night,” he purred. “You would love it if I got on my knees and let you run your fingers in my hair right now, hm?”
You stammered his name under your breath when he licked a strip along your neck, kissing and sucking your skin before moving lower to your breasts. It never bothered him too much when you wore a form-fitting shirt and forewent a bra, the shape of your piercings bulging under the tight, stretchy fabric. That was as long as he was the only one who had the privilege of playing with them, of course. And when your shirt was bunched above your breasts, he stole more than just a quick look. His eyes were hungry, staring long enough to brand the image of your tits in his mind.
Two cute little silver hearts for both of your nipples, hugging the buds together just perfectly. You just had them pierced a month or so ago, and you’d be lying if you denied that half the reason why you did was for Wooyoung. You wanted to get something that was only to share with him; in a sense, it made your heart flutter at how intimate it really was. Maybe a few others got a glimpse of your piercings sometimes, but Wooyoung always received the full experience.
“I’ll never get tired of these,” he murmured, pressing his thumbs on your nipples to light a reaction from you. He was good at catching every little detail about you, savoring each short breath you took, how your lips parted, and the way your tummy contracted from any shock of pleasure.
“You really went through that pain for me,” he stated more so than asked.
“It’s worth it,” you whispered. “And it feels...hah”—your face contorted when he captured your nipple between his lips—“it feels s-so good now. So sensitive…”
He hummed. “I bet it does.”
The air was so thick and hot, polluted with the pungent mix of alcohol and weed; it made you a little lightheaded. The shitty trap song muffled by the door went deaf on your ears, and all you could focus on was the wet muscle that toyed with your nipple. Your hand found its way to the other, begging to be touched and tweaked between your fingers. The heat between your legs was growing to be unbearable, thighs spread apart as if they were ready to welcome his touch between them.
He released your flesh with a pop, giving you one dizzying kiss that had him dropping to his knees nearly going unnoticed by you. He squeezed your thighs in his hands, eventually snaking them higher to push the hem of your denim skirt up. You threw on whatever pair of underwear you could find in your drawer and unfortunately for you, they were light enough to show an embarrassingly dark spot left by your arousal. And fortunately for him, he got to ogle at it.
His finger wagged against your clothed nub, an almost mocking chuckle leaving him. “What an easy girl you are.”
“Sh-Shut up.”
“Make me.”
You didn’t know what came over you to do what you did next. Your panties slipped down to your ankles and before he knew it, his shades slipped from his hair as you grabbed a fistful of his locks at the base, shoving his head between your legs. Wooyoung made a small sound of surprise, though he easily complied, parting his lips almost immediately to suck on your clit.
“Why are you s-such a tease, Wooyo?” you whined, frustration building in your tone as you hooked one leg over his shoulder and began to roll your hips. “You piss me o-off sometimes!”
He groaned when the grasp on his hair tightened, your nails grazing his scalp in an almost indescribable, painful pleasure that had blood rushing up his cock. His hands searched for purchase on your thighs, his own nails digging into your flesh deep enough that they’d leave little crescents behind.
“S-Sometimes I feel like you really need me to ride your face to sh-shut you up,” you moaned.
He’d nearly creamed in his pants right then and there. You were so fucking cute and hot all in one when you were mad like this.
“Wooyo, g-gonna cum! Gonna cum, gonna cum—oh, my fucking God…”
With one last whimper, you reached climax, bliss intoxicating your senses as you rode your orgasm out on his face until you reached satisfaction. You released your grip on his hair, pushing him away gently while you caught your breath, waiting out the twitching in your thighs to settle down in silence. Your boyfriend was left speechless for a minute, dazed as if there was nothing in that pretty little head of his other than the voice that told him to lick your cum off his lips.
The next thing you knew, your ass was perched on the countertop, your hand accidentally flipping the faucet on in an attempt to balance yourself. Wooyoung stood between your thighs and unbuckled his belt, slipping out his cock from underneath his boxers. As much as you loved seeing him naked, you were always fascinated by the sight of him fully clothed, nothing but his erection dripping with pre-cum exposed to you. Maybe it was the urgency—the need to fuck you right now so overpowering that he didn’t have the patience to strip his clothes off.
“You’re such an impatient little brat,” he huffed, a hushed groan interrupting his thoughts when he slid his cock in your warmth. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you savored the sensation of being stretched open for the first time that night. He grabbed handfuls of your ass before landing two simultaneous smacks that aroused a yelp from you, and whispered, “You’re lucky that I liked that.”
He didn’t warn you about the strong thrust that had your jaw dropping, one that was followed by a series of jackhammered movements that left you a broken, moaning mess. You probably didn’t sound the prettiest right now, switching between whimpers and pants like you were some bitch in heat. But the beauty of Wooyoung was that you didn’t have to be insecure about how you sounded, because he liked everything that was you. Even if he fucked you like he hated your guts.
“What was that you said about riding m-my face? To shut me up, h-huh? How about I fuckin’ slap you to teach you a lesson?” he grunted.
You swore that you felt a surge of your arousal dripping on the countertop with every pounding from his cock. Nothing turned you on more than a nice slap on your face from Wooyoung, you nearly melted into a pile of mush in his grasp.
“F-Fuck—yes!” you cried.
His thrusts never wavered as his hand lingered near your face, ready to land a firm hit on your cheek.
“Mm, here it comes, Baby.”
One, two, three slaps came at you that rendered you dizzy, the stinging pain on your cheek dissipating into a tingling pleasure. Wooyoung’s eyes studied in lust at how your own had fluttered shut, the whites peaking underneath your lashes as he soothed the affected area with his thumb. He repeated the same pattern one more time, almost disgustingly enamored at how much of a painslut his sweet girl was.
“Need to learn how to control your temper,” he muttered.
There was something about your pout and your knitted brows, matched with your flushed skin and your disheveled hair that had him going. How could he resist a face like that?
“I just—ah—love you s-so much, Wooyo!”
You were too cute for your own good.
His hand led yours onto his face, warm to the touch and glistening with sweat. With a few nods, he said softly, “S-Slap me…I haven’t been good e-either, Baby.”
“Wooyo,” you crooned.
“Do it n-now,” he insisted. “I’m all yours.”
And with that, your fingers reached for the back of his head, grasping his hair near his scalp before pulling it back. Wooyoung let out a wanton moan when your hand met his cheek. His hips began to slam against you at unbridled speeds as he began to lose himself in pure, sexual bliss.
“Fuck…hit me h-harder! Like you fucking mean it,” he whined. His cock continued to ram in and out of you, growing sloppier with each fuck as you watched his eyes glaze with tears, and his cheeks flushed with pink. You did as you’re told and slapped him with a firm smack, and that’s what it took for him to smash your lips together with his own. You threw your arms around his neck while he groped your breast, fondling your nipple with his thumb as you both swallowed the other’s growingly high-pitched moans.
“You’re mine,” you mumbled against his lips.
Those two words were enough for him to release a guttural groan, filling your pussy with spurts of cum that left him trembling. But he didn’t stop there, muffling his cries of overstimulation by sinking his teeth into your shoulder. You could feel the warm tears dripping onto your back, the desperate need to make you cum becoming so apparent that it made your head spin. And with a few more frantic bucks from his hips, your walls suffocated his throbbing cock with a selfish squeeze, your gratified mewls melding with his broken pleas.
His weight toppled over you while you’re rendered boneless, legs falling limp against the bottom cupboards after releasing his waist. Wooyoung snuggled his face into the crook of your neck, absorbing the intoxicating pheromones that have begun to mask your fading perfume. You’re both left speechless for a few minutes, digesting the music that had been indistinct to your ears during your little fuck session. And when you’re ready, you each check on the other, sharing vulnerable kisses and sweet nothings that were reserved only between you and him.
You didn’t know exactly how long you’d spent time in the bathroom, but judging by the glaringly sour looks of a few who stood nearby on the outside, you’d say you took a considerable amount of sweet time. And as you expected from your ever-so-composed boyfriend, he sent the next person a smirk, rubbing his own red, blotchy cheek. Fixing his shades on top of his head, he entwined his fingers with yours soon after.
“It’s all yours.”
#ateez smut#ateez imagines#ateez scenarios#ateez fanfic#ateez x reader#ateez drabbles#wooyoung smut#jung wooyoung smut#kpop smut
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Not Over the Papaya | OP81
⊹ 。•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• 。゚
Ships : Oscar Piastri x Popstar! Reader , Ex!Lando Norris x Popstar! Reader
Genre : Fluff Smau
A/N : Oki, quick reminder! This is all fiction!! nothing in this ever happened in real life, so don’t hate on the people referenced please!
Face claim : Jennie Kim
Summary : Y/N and Oscar cope with their own breakups by making the Heartbreak Club.
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landonorris
liked by ln4, mclaren, f1, and others
landonorris And thats how you do it 😏. Pole for tomorrow’s race baby!
mclaren back at it again!! thats our driver 💪
ln4 How many poles was this again? 🤔
user1 Ok sir cook!
user2 Get em Lan! close the gap from Max
user3 Yes! this year’s battle is so tight 😮💨
user4 I’m so glad Lando is Mclaren’s no. 1 driver
user5 yeah for now
user4 @user5 what do you mean, for now??
user5 Give oscar time, you’ll see
user4 Piastri is literally in P17 while Lando got pole 🤡
user5 you didnt watch the practice sessions did you 🤡
user3 Get the p1 tomorrow Lando!
user4 Y/N fumbled letting Lando go for Oscar…. couldnt be me 🤢
user5 why would you even drag Y/N here? let’s not forget who cheated on who
user6 McLaren worked extra hard to cover that issue…. and we should not make it any easier. Cheaters remain cheating
user4 yeah yeah whatever! Lando stays on top
user6 That smirk was not necessary sir… you literally got the fastest car??
user7 and his teammate got what place in the fastest car? right 17
user8 Lando’s got that team favoritism buff tho
user7 what favoristism?
user6 @/user7 are you blind or stupid? its pretty obvious that Mclaren favors Lando over Oscar
user9 Don’t listen to the haters Lando!!
user10 Ngl I like Lando over Oscar anyday. McLaren should just fire the Australian like they did with Danny ric. Bro is not going anywhere in this team.
Notification: My Osc🧡 replied to your message*
*Incoming call from Manager Kim
Pick up or Decline
Pick up
-Hi, Kim. What’s up?-
-Y/N, your new ep has still charting at number 1 an opportunity opened up and it is HUGE!-
-Like how huge are we talking Kim?-
-HUGE huge, Y/N!!-
-Really? whats the gig and when is it? -
- I need you to fly out here to the states like right now!-
-Woah what? I can’t right now Kim. Oscar crashed and I need to be with him in the race. Everything is in chaos here and I — can’t it just be over the phone? -
- What? are you being serious right now? Y/N this is your career. Are you really choosing a boy over it?! Y/N listen to me. This opportunity comes by once in a life time, don’t waste it -
- Kim… can’t you reschedule the meeting? or something? please? -
- No, Y/N. They want to personally meet you here by tomorrow evening. I swear this is your Lando situation all over again! -
- Excuse me?? what does that even mean? -
- Y/N , you’re reliving your relationship with Lando through Oscar! -
-That’s not fucking true Kim!-
-Really, Y/N?? You’re even starting to give up opportunities for Oscar!! Does that ring any bells for you?? huh?? Remember you gave up that collab with Justin Bieber because your shit of an Ex was insecure and jealous?!! How is this not the same?? You’re doing all of this for what? so that your new boy toy can cheat on you?? Your being delusional again, Y/N. Get it together -
-KIM! You’re being out of line! You have no right to dictate what happens in my personal life. This is my decision to make not yours, and I’ll stand by what ever consequence i’ll face for it-
- Yeah, you’re not the one cleaning shit up, if you aren’t here by tomorrow. I swear Y/N… I’m done with you and your team.-
*beep* *beep* *beep*
-Oscar’s POV-
Notification : Mark sent a message*
Notification: Logan has sent a message to Timtams and Ranch*
Calling: My Dearest 🤍
*Ring*
*Ring*
*Ring*
*The number you are calling cannot be reached, please try again later*
Calling: My Dearest 🤍
*Ring*
*Ring*
*Ring*
*The number you are calling cannot be reached, please try again later*
Calling: My Dearest🤍
*Ring*
*Ring*
*Ring*
*The number you are calling cannot be reached, please try again later*
Calling : My Dearest🤍
*Ring*
-Hello?-
-You had me worried there, dear. Are you busy?-
-Oh, uhm no. No I guess-
-Are you ok, Baby? Is everything alright?-
-Yeah, No. Im ok, just some things to think about for work-
-Ok… if you say so. I’m heading back to our room okay?-
-Yeah. see you later. Bye Osc-
-Thank you for being here and supporting me in everything Y/N… I know it’s not easy for you. I love you-
-I… I love you too Oscar-
f1news
liked by user 1 and user2
f1news after yesterday’s chaotic qualifying. The teams and the grid are only starting to heat up, with McLaren starting the fire. Oscar joining papaya isn’t as heaven sent as everyone thought.
While inside drama is brewing inside McLaren, are other drivers starting to pick sides? Yes they are! While some are neutral, it is obvious who are leaning towards supporting Oscar. The drivers had taken to instagram stories to show just on whose part of the McLaren garage they support.
user1 Chaotic is a way to put it. It was an absolute shitshow.
user2 I guess Mclaren couldn’t handle 2 talented drives at the same time. It’s actually so saddening, especially for Oscar. His team always puts Lando first at EVERYTHING.
user3 I find it hilarious how most of the grid are either on Oscar’s side or just doesn’t care.
user4 Only Carlos is actively still supporting Lando
user5 The dude has beef with Piastri, even before in Osc’s rookie year
user6 Carlos is very protective of Lando I guess
user7 Protective of Lando?? Dude the man is a grown adult! Carlos has beef with Oscar for a whole different thing I’m sure
user8 Everyone let us thank McLaren for the drama in and off track! you’ve made our lives more fun
user9 Ikr? might be torture for the people involved but its so entertaining for us. Lmao sorry Oscar.
user10 Max switching sides from Lando to Oscar is so freaking funny. Max is full out ignoring Lando
user11 Oh what i would give to know the tea behind that
user12 you know what would be iconic? Oscar throws another party
user13 Throw a party and invite all Mclaren then dip before it would even start
user14 ngl that screams Oscar fr
user15 I can’t wait for the race later! it would be carnage on track!!
user16 I’m watching Oscar for sure. Boy looks absolute mad during the qualifying.
skysports live
*paddock , track side*
-Oscar, just do your job and please keep your mouth shut. You’re under probation and comments against the team won’t make it any better-
-Yeah, yeah… why not fire me while you’re at it-
-Hi, Peter! I’ll take it from here… Well hello to you Oscar. How’s it at the back of the grid?-
-Great to see you too Lando. Yeah, it’s alright. It keeps me humble, not that you would know what that means-
-Oh, You’ll be more humble when I win today-
-Sure… not till you bottle turn 1 and lose the lead. Y’know like you always do-
-Lando, Oscar! What are you two doing back here? Oh yes, Oscar is in P17… can’t believe they’re considering you and not me. Tsk waste of a seat-
- Haha funny. Carlos, mate what are you even talking about?-
-That Red Bull seat shouldn’t be offered to you. Ferrari’s 2nd option shouldn’t be you!-
-What Carlos is saying is that you shouldn’t be offered seats or be driving at all, Mate. Honestly your better off back at Alpine. Good fucking riddance for us-
-Yeah, oh please fire me! and I’m not the one being replaced by Hamilton next year.
-Hijo de puta! You have the nerve?! -
-Whoa. Ok let’s all calm down. Oscar come with me-
-Oi! Charles were not done here. Oi!-
-Mate, what the hell??-
-Charles?? where are we going-
-Just keep walking. You cant stay out of trouble can you?-
-They came at me! I was seriously about to go my car. I swear, your teammate hates me. I didn’t do even anything to him-
-He’s loosing his seat, of course he’s pissed-
-Why at me?? Aren’t he supposed to be mad at you or even Lewis?-
-Ok, fine… you didn’t hear this from me. But Lewis’ contract isnt final with Ferrari and you are the next driver option-
-WHAT-
-So RedBull and Ferrari wants you… and Carlos wasnt even in the choices. So yes he’s livid and no he doesn’t like you-
-Oh…-
-Yeah, Oh. So get your act right and drive your ass off today. And maybe I or Max might have a new teammate next year-
*End of Oscar’s POV
Y/N.
liked by y/b/f , alexandrasaintmleux, markwebber, and others
Y/N. Here with you, no matter the goal. Always
tagged @oscarpiastri
oscarpiastri No matter the destination. Always
liked by author
mclaren Drop by the garage @y/n. we miss you!
redbullracing she’s with us today 😏
scuderiaferrari We have next dibs! 🤪
user1 why is redbull and ferrari in y/n’s comments??
user1 get married already!
user2 Y/N and Oscar support each other so much 🥺
user3 Wouldn’t be surprised if the two of them would elope or already be married.
user4 Oscar needs all the support right now.
user3 yeah thats sweet and all. But when are we getting the album tho??
user4 let Y/N have fun and take her time.
user5 I’m expecting a breakup and a love album at this point from you ms @y/n.
user6 Mom… Y/N and Oscar are being mysterious again. I’m scared
user7 I’m scared too 🥹
user8 like what goal are they talking about??? gettingg married?? starting a family?? change in careers??
user9 I need answers 🙂↕️
Notification: You missed a call from Manager Kim*
Notification: Manager Kim sent you a voice message*
-I see, you’ve made your choice. Don’t regret it. I’m done working with you-
Would you like to call Manager Kim back?
Yes or No
No
*RedBull Racing Motorhome: Lobby
-Hey, Y/N. You ready to go to Max’s garage? -
-Hi, Kel and hello P! yeah lets go-
-You ok, Y/N? is everything alright?-
-Hmm? yeah, yup. I’m ok. Just a lil weird not being in Oscar’s garage. Let’s go to the track! -
-Okay~ If you say so. P, can you hold auntie Y/N’s hand for me please? Mommy has alot to carry -
-Thanks, P! and thank you Kel-
-Yeah, I’m not stupid Y/N. Something is up I know it. But I won’t push you… i’m here if you need me, yeah?-
-Thanks Kel… -
F1
Liked by user1, user2, and user3
F1 And we have our podium drivers!! What a race indeed. 🏆
tagged @maxverstappen1, @charles_leclerc, and @oscarpiastri
user1 HOW IS OSCAR HERE??? P2? WHAT A DRIVE!!
user2 Man drove like a beast! His driving today was insane 🔥
user3 Oscar took yesterday’s qualifying personally 💀
user2 Lando being pole to p6 is just 🤡
user3 and his teammate started at P17 … is P2
user4 I can’t defend the man anymore
user5 Max and Charles really gave Lando a hard time during the first few laps huh
user6 Lando was so agitated in the team radio 😮💨
user7 I dont if i want to laugh or cry at Lando’s luck
user8 Charles defending P2 from Oscar was amazing driving, but Oscar was on smth else today!!
user9 Lando bottled the start. Gasp! … anyways.
user10 why aren’t we surprised 💀
user11 Isn’t anyone gonna comment about McLaren ordering Oscar to stand down?? Hello??? what was that?
user12 Not them ordering Oscar not to overtake Lando 🤢
user13 I’m so happy Oscar ignored team orders!
user14 Oscar deserves that driver of the day for sure!! Masterclass driving. He is a future WDC, i’m betting my house!!
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#f1#formula 1#f1 imagine#formula one#f1 fic#formula 1 fic#mclaren#f1 fanfic#lando norris#formula 1 fanfic#oscar piastri smau#oscar piastri au#oscar piastri texts#oscar piastri fic#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x you#op81 smau#op81 fluff#op81 imagine#op81 x reader#op81 fic#op81#op81 x y/n#op81 social media au#f1 smau#f1 social media au#f1 2024#notp
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MR. POLICEMAN - C. SEUNGCHEOL
KINKTOBER DAY 14 - AGE DIFFERENCE
SUMMARY : "everybody knows that i'm a good girl, officer" is what you said to him when you got arrested for selling drugs. and despite seungcheol having a wife and kids, he can't help stumbling over his words when you ask to suck his cock in exchange for letting you go.
-> pairing : police officer!seungcheol x fem!reader
-> words count : 1.4k
-> genre : smut
-> warnings : age difference (obviously), cheating, mention of drugs, oral (m. receiving), begging, dirty talk, deep throating, face fucking, cum eating, swearing, praising, hair pulling, dacraphylia, use of 'good girl'
+ the way i'm depicting seungcheol does not represent him, it's only a work of fiction
-> 18+ content bellow, minors DNI
-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated ! sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language.
-> masterlist | svt masterlist | kinktober 2024
“- I didn’t even do anything !
- The marijuana we found in your apartment seems to tell otherwise. If you want advice, you should really confess. The judge is gonna be a lot more lenient if you do as I say.”
A pout formed on your face as you crossed your arms in front of your chest, turning your gaze away from the officer in front of you. If you found the little bastard that had reported you, he was not going to make it out alive, for sure. In your mind, you did nothing wrong. Drugs helped you relax and focus on your writing in a way that your normal state didn’t allow, what was the harm in that ?
“- It’s not mine, I don’t know why it was there. Everybody knows that I’m a good girl officer.
- I hear these lies at least four times a day, Miss L/N. You should really tell me the truth if you want to avoid a serious sentence.”
But his words were going through one ear and out of the other, your eyes fixed on his face and his attractive features. You must admit that the man was handsome, and that his uniform was suiting him perfectly. He was obviously way older than you, and a framed photograph of his wife and two kids was sitting on his desk. But that wouldn’t deter you from the idea that had formed into your mind. You locked your doe eyes with his again, your crossed arms pushing your boobs together and making them almost spill out of your top. You tried to contain your smirk as the eyes of the officer flickered down to your chest - everything was going according to your plan.
“- Okay… I did have some weed, but it’s only for me and my friends, to relax, you know ? We did nothing wrong…”
You saw him gulp down as you leaned over his desk, hands pressed on the cold wood and your boobs now directly in his line of sight. It was impossible for him to ignore them as they were right in front of his face. But he looked away to his computer, trying to appear busy. Your own eyes roamed around the things scattered on his desk, catching his first name on one of the papers.
“- Please, Officer Choi… I really don’t want to go to jail, can’t you help a girl who made a mistake ?”
Seungcheol should say no, he should frankly say that he could do nothing about it, that you must understand why you shouldn’t do it again. But the way your fingers were slowly crawling up his arm made his brain malfunction.
“- I… I can’t do that. It’s illegal.”
It was as if he needed to mention the law because it was the only thing holding him back from giving in to your advances and letting you go. He felt guilty, the ring around his finger seemed like it was burning when he looked at your lips for a little too long.
“- But, please, I swear I won’t do it again !
- That’s still illegal, there are laws for a reason.”
You pretended to think for a moment as your hand rested on his shoulder, like a reminder of how naughty all the things going through his head at that moment were.
“- I’ll do whatever you want if you let me go, I can… Repay you in other ways…”
Seungcheol was so unprepared for your bold proposal that he barely even reacted when you dropped to your knees and crawled under his desk until you could settle in between his legs, looking up at him with your hands placed high on his thick thighs.
“- Let me do something for you, yeah ? And I promise you’ll never hear from me ever again.
- You… Get up, I can't… I can’t let you do that.
- Please, you won’t regret it, I swear.”
Your sugary sweet voice, your big doe eyes and the way your palm was already rubbing against the bulge deforming his crotch were slowly making his resolve crumble. The uniform was only making him hotter, your eyes roaming around the way the muscles of his biceps tensed as he gripped the armrest of his desk chair, his jaw clenching as his gaze got darker.
“- Please, Officer Choi… I’ll be good, I promise.”
All Seungcheol needed was one more of your begs in that whiny voice for him to give you the green light. A grin stretched out your lips as you pushed his uniform pants down enough to free his cock. You licked your lips at the appealing sight, his length heavy in your hands as you spat on him and started to stroke him at a quick pace, your eyes never leaving his. His lips were parted, his cheeks lightly dusted in pink, and his gaze was filled with lust as you stuck out your tongue to kitten-lick at his tip.
“- Fuck… Take it into your mouth.”
You smiled at him, your ego inflating because you did manage to make him completely give up on his morals. You didn’t make him wait any longer, pushing half of his hard cock in between your lips, slowly working on relaxing your throat enough to take him whole into your mouth. With every inch that met your eager tongue and your warmth, Seungchol's breath became more and more unheavy, the sight of you on your knees for him, doing your best to convince him when he still had the power to send you to prison was delicious.
“- Shit… You feel so good…”
His praise made you moan around his cock just as his tip hit the back of your throat, making you gag and drool even more. You knew that you could get him to let you go if you did good enough, you knew that by the time you would have made him cum, he was going to be unable to keep you there anymore. So you doubled your efforts, bobbing your head up and down as you looked up at the way his face contorted in pleasure, at the way his parted lips were letting out the prettiest groans. His hips bucked up into your mouth, making you whimper and gag again around him, tears welling up in your eyes.
“- I’m gonna need more than that to let you go, angel. But if you let me fuck your tight, little throat, I might say yes.”
You hummed in approval, bringing one of his hands to the back of your head, letting him tangle his fingers in between your strands of hair. He hesitated for one second - one second that let you enough time to swirl your tongue around his cock in a way that made it impossible for him to hold back anymore. He put your hair up in a messy ponytail, tugging on it to force his cock to the hilt into your throat. The loud gagging noises you produced as he thrusted forward again and again were drowned out by his loud groans and grunts of your name. He shouldn't love what was happening right now, he shouldn't love the way he was bruising your throat, he shouldn't love the way tears were running down your face and ruining your mascara. He shouldn’t but he loved it, he loved it way more than he thought he would.
Your nails were digging into his thick, muscular thighs as Seungcheol fucked your throat. You could feel his big cock throbbing against your tongue, could feel that he was close. And maybe you shouldn’t love how humiliating this all was, maybe you shouldn’t love the fact that you were about to make this married man cum into your mouth, maybe you shouldn’t love how rough he was, but you did. You did and it encouraged you to hollow your cheeks around him, giving him that last rush of pleasure he needed to shoot his load down your throat. You did your best to swallow his cum, letting go of his cock to take a deep breath.
And then, you looked up at Seungcheol to find him already looking at you. His thumb came down to swipe up against your bottom lip, gathering the remains of his release to push them back into your mouth, groaning at the way you immediately sucked on his finger, cleaning it off his cum. He patted your cheek, covering it in your saliva.
“- You really are a good girl. You can go.”
Seungcheol made a promise to himself to never ever think about you again, even if your big doe eyes were haunting him day and night. But when he saw you sitting in his office, your hands handcuffed, only a few weeks later, with that same sultry smile and that same lust burning into your eyes, he quickly locked the door behind him, and he stopped thinking as soon as your lips made contact with his cock again.
-> i don't allow any copies, reposts or translations of my work.
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training partners (pt. 2)
summary: after your next training session, you join hugh for lunch at his place. pairing: hugh jackman x fem!reader warnings: implied age gap (hugh is 55, reader is in late 20s-early 30s), reader has some description (hair, outfit), sensual and initmate smut (unprotected p in v sex - creampie oops, missionary, cowgirl, marking and biting, light dirty talk) no use of y/n. word count: 8.9k (i got carried away lol) a/n: this is part two to training partners. i needed more lol and i told myself that it would only be a two-parter, but i may or may not continue this with more... (let me know if i should write more parts to this story bc i'm having so much fun writing this!) again, i mean no disrespect to hugh jackman and this is purely fictional (all in my delulu mind). prev part. - next part.
It’s been a week since meeting Hugh and it’s still so surreal that you’re frequently talking to him. Or rather, he’s frequently reaching out to you whether it’s through a text message, a phone call, or FaceTime. You realize just how comfortable you are with him, how you can completely be yourself and not worry about what he thinks, because he just makes you feel like who you are as a person is enough. It’s something you haven’t felt before and there’s a part of you that tries to tell yourself that this isn’t going to be serious. You’re just going to have fun. Hugh isn’t going to want something serious, so don’t set yourself up for disappointment.
But the more you talk to him, the more you find yourself imagining and daydreaming what it would be like to be in a fully committed relationship with him. You know it’s never going to happen, but a girl can dream, right?
On today’s workout, you decide to wear a faded black oversized t-shirt and black spandex shorts. You put your hair into two braids and slip your shoes on. Within a few minutes, you hear a knock on your door and you bite your lower lip in anticipation. You’re excited, yet nervous, to see Hugh again. Despite the plenty of FaceTime calls over the last week, it’s just a different feeling seeing him in person. Right in front of you. Within arms reach.
You swing your door open and look up at Hugh who’s smiling in your direction. He’s dressed in black shorts and a black fitted t-shirt that looks like it’s about to tear at the seams around his biceps. It causes you to bite your lower lip, yearning to reach out to just squeeze and–
“Good morning, love,” Hugh says with a chuckle, breaking you out of your thoughts.
“Hi, good morning, sorry,” you apologize, looking down at your feet. “You wanna come on in? I’m just grabbing the rest of my things.”
“I’d love to,” Hugh responds. “But can I get a proper greeting?”
“Oh, so me checking you out isn’t proper?”
Hugh grins. “I’d say it’s far from proper, love.”
Your eyes narrow and then you step up to him, your arms wrapping around his frame as his long arms wrap around your waist. “Is this proper enough?” you whisper against him.
“Very proper,” he whispers, tightening his hold on you before he pulls away. “We still on for lunch after our workout?”
You nod, leading him inside of your apartment. “Yeah, but I just realized I’m gonna be all sweaty and in your home and–”
“Pack a change of clothes. You can shower at my place.”
You shut the door behind him and then walk into your living room with him trailing behind you, trying to bite back the excitement that settles in the pit of your stomach. “Are you sure? I don’t want to impose.”
“Not imposing at all. I want to spend time with you…” Hugh begins. “In a setting that’s just you and me.”
“Okay, Hugh.” You say, turning around once he takes your wrist to spin you to face him. He brings you to his chest and uses his free hand to rest onto your hip. He looks so incredibly large in your small apartment and you can’t help but feel the butterflies swarm in the pit of your stomach. Even though he looks so out of place in your apartment, it feels right having him here. With you.
“But only if you’re okay with it,” he says, releasing his hold on your wrist to rest it on the other side of your hip.
Slowly, you wrap your arms around his shoulders, stepping closer to him until your front is flush against his own. “I’m more than okay with it. I just don’t want you to think that I’m… You know…”
“I don’t,” he shakes his head. “What?”
“That I only want you because you’re famous and you’re rich.”
“Oh, I thought those were the only two reasons.” He teases. “And because I’m old and you like older men.”
You let out a quiet laugh, gently punching his chest and his hands fall from your hips to wrap his arms instead around your waist. He holds you tightly against him and slowly dips down until his lips are mere inches from yours. “Seriously, Hugh.”
“I know, love. Listen, I like your company. You make me laugh and it’s a while since I’ve felt this way.” Then, he brings a hand up to tuck a fallen strand of hair behind your ear, careful not to mess with your braids. “Whatever way you’ll have me, I’m fine with it.”
“But I’m just me…” you whisper.
“And you being you is a breath of fresh air. I like it. I like you.”
You feel the corners of your lips turn upwards, the heat in your cheeks rising once more and you feel like you can lean in to kiss him. But you don’t. Not yet. You still have a workout to get to.
“The Hugh Jackman likes me?” You feign a shocking expression, looking up into his eyes.
Hugh lets out a quiet laugh and leans into bury his face against your neck, his stubble brushing against you and causing you to let out an uncontrollable giggle. “Oh, you’re ticklish, are ya?” He smirks against you, lips brushing against your neck as his stubble continues to tickle your skin.
You squirm against him, trying to pull away from him, but he just tightens his grip on you as your laughter fills your entire apartment. “Hugh!” you exclaim in between giggles, pushing against his hard chest. It’s no use though, he’s just so much stronger, so much bigger, and it isn’t until you lose your footing that he falls on his back on your couch with you on top of him that the laughter begins to die down. You pull back enough to look down at him, his hands gripping your hips as you realize that your legs had subconsciously placed themselves on either side of him.
You’re literally straddling him and he’s staring at you with lust-filled eyes. Your core is pressed firmly against his lower half and you feel his length stir against you, hardening with each passing second.
“Hugh…”
Your eyes deviate to his lips, watching him bite his lower lip as his fingertips dig into your hips. “Ya think we’d get in trouble if we miss our workout?” he whispers huskily. “Because I think I really like this view and I don’t wanna get up.”
Your cheeks are hot. You’re sure that he can feel the heat between your legs and you’re afraid to move because you’re sure that if you do, you’d lost all ounce of resolve and want to just pounce him because while he likes the view of you being on top of him, you absolutely love the view of him underneath you.
“We should get up,” you mumble, though you don’t make any movements to stand up. Instead, Hugh wraps his arms around your waist as he sits up and adjusts himself on your couch until he’s sitting back against it. With each of his movements, your hips move against his, letting out a quiet whimper at the friction.
“You really want to?” he says, leaning in to rest his forehead against yours. “Maybe we can…”
“Do our own version of cardio?” you tease, obviously breaking the tension as you both erupt into a fit of laughter. You wrap your arms around his shoulders loosely. “What do you say?”
“As much as I’d love that,” Hugh chuckles. “I’d wanna take my time with you, love.”
“Hm, then I guess we’ll have to wait.”
“Guess so,” he says, though begins to lean in closer to you. “But can I…” Hugh begins to ask, eyes dropping to your lips and then back up to your eyes. “Kiss you?”
“Such a gentleman, Hugh Jackman,” you tease. “I thought old men like to be in control and–”
“You’re a little brat,” he growls, leaning in to finally press his lips against yours. You gasp immediately, feeling one of his hands move up to cup your cheek. He wastes no time in moving his lips against your own. It’s like your breath is being taken from you with how aggressive Hugh is, nipping and biting at your lower lip. You can’t control the way you’re feeling, the way your legs want to close shut and your core yearning to squeeze around something. You let out a quiet moan and slowly roll your hips against his own, feeling his entire length press against you once more.
When Hugh groans against your lips, it lights a fire in you. In a fleeting moment, you want to just devour him and drop to your knees in front of him so that you can hear more of his groans and grunts. You lean further into him, gasping as you feel his fingertips touch your skin. His hands move underneath your shirt and with your gasp, he uses this moment to slide his tongue past your lips.
Suddenly, you pull away, breathing heavily with his hands still underneath your shirt and your hands gripping his.
“We’re getting carried away,” you whisper, breathlessly.
“Hm,” he grins, licking his lower lip. “You’re distracting,” he teases.
You roll your eyes and slowly climb off his lap, missing the feeling of him between your legs. Your eyes dip lower and notice the slight tent in his shorts, watching as he reaches down to readjust himself.
“I’m gonna–” you clear your throat. “I’m gonna grab my things and then we should go. Or else we’ll never leave.”
“Wouldn’t be a bad thing,” Hugh grins. “But okay. We should be at the gym soon.”
As you’re walking away, Hugh stands up and takes your hand once more. He pulls you flush against him, arms wrapping around your waist from behind as he dips down to press gentle and soft kisses along the side of your neck. “I can’t get enough of you,” he murmurs against you.
Your eyes flutter shut, hands moving to rest over his as you lean back against him. “Hugh, now you’re the one who’s distracting.”
“Fine, okay,” he chuckles, pulling away from you. “I’m going to wait outside because you’re a bit dangerous right now.”
“Me?!”
“Yes, you,” Hugh laughs. “Because if I stay in your apartment another minute, I’m gonna end up taking you where you stand, love.”
You let out a shaky breath and then nod your head, waiting for him to turn on his heel to leave your apartment. Once he does and you hear the door shut, you realize you’ve been holding your breath. You bite your lower lip, bringing your fingertips to graze your lips as you think back to the very heated kiss on your couch. Oh, you won’t be looking at that couch the same way again.
After you grab a change of clothes and put it in your duffle bag, you drape it over your shoulder and grab your phone and keys and leave your apartment. You see Hugh leaning against his car, opening the passenger door for you as he takes the bag from you.
“Such a gentleman,” you point out.
Hugh catches you by surprise and leans in to peck your lips. “D’ya like it?”
“What? You being a gentleman?”
Hugh nods.
“I do, but I also like…” you bite your lower lip as you climb into the passenger seat. “I also like it rough.” Without allowing him to respond, you shut the door and smirk to yourself. Hugh is awakening something inside of you, something that you had suppressed for so long and it feels good to finally let loose and be yourself. It’s easy with him.
You see him then set your bag in the trunk before he shuts it closed and then walks to the driver’s side. He climbs in and looks at you, eyes narrowed as he starts the car and buckles his seatbelt. When Hugh pulls out of your parking lot, he reaches over and rests his hand on your upper thigh, his fingers resting on the inside of your thigh.
“What are you doing?” you ask, resting a hand over his own.
“Showing dominance,” Hugh winks.
“Showing dominance?” you laugh quietly. “By putting your hand on my thigh?”
He nods, one hand on the steering wheel as he keeps eyes focused on the road ahead of him. He moves his hand slightly higher. His pinky moves just slightly and you feel it brush against your core, causing a quiet gasp to escape your lips.
“Hugh!”
“See? Dominance.”
“You’re a tease, that’s what you are.”
Hugh then lets out a loud laugh. “Me? The tease? May I remind you what you were doing to me back at your apartment, baby?”
Love. Baby. All of these terms of endearment are slowly breaking down your resolve.
“Okay, okay,” you say quietly, biting your lower lip as you feel his pinky move up and down along your core. It causes your eyes to flutter shut, the light touch against you making you yearn for more. You need more. You need him.
“I don’t know how I’m gonna get through today’s workout,” Hugh begins, stopping at a red light as he turns to look at you. He’s glad his windows are tinted, no one able to tell who he is or what he’s doing right now. He keeps one hand on the steering wheel as he turns his hand to press firmly against your clothed sex, gently using his middle finger to rub circles against your clit. “Because all I’m gonna be thinking about, baby, are the sounds you’re making and how you’re gonna feel wrapped around me.”
You let out quiet moans as you grip his wrist, trying to push him away but he remains persistent. His touch against you becomes stronger and he pulls away only because the light turns green. Your eyes narrow in his direction and you realize that you’re almost close to the gym. When he pulls into the parking lot and puts the car in park, you reach over the console and move your hand to rest above his crotch. You hear his breath hitch in his throat as Hugh looks in your direction, biting his lower lip.
“What are you doin’?”
“What you were doing to me,” you whisper, feeling the length of him underneath the palm of your hand. You then bring your fingertip to run across his length, feeling it begin to harden underneath your touch. “I think it’s only fair.”
His hand darts out to grab your wrist and pull it away from him, eyes narrowing as Hugh leans in. His lips are dangerously close to yours and you stare at him with a mischievous look on your face, biting your lower lip.
“You’re gonna pay for that,” he growls.
“You promise?”
Hugh chuckles and leans in to peck your lips. “Oh, it’s a promise.”
—
After another grueling workout session, you’re already drenched in sweat and making your way to Hugh’s car. While you still pushed yourself past your limits during the session, you couldn’t help but be distracted by him. Every chance he could get, he’d make sure to touch you – whether it’s a soft touch on your lower back, a gentle hand on your shoulder. Hugh wanted more of you and he could tell throughout the session that your eyes lingered on him. It excited him to know just what might happen once you both leave to go to his place.
“You ready?” Hugh asks, motioning towards the door. You nod and walk in front of him, giving him a good view of your backside and legs and he bites his lower lip, his thoughts going back to the moment you shared on your couch. Once outside in the parking lot, Hugh gently takes your bag from you and sets it in his truck.
“So,” he hears you say once he climbs into the driver’s side. “What will you be making me?”
“Something healthy,” Hugh grins. “I am on a strict diet for Wolverine.”
“Okay, I can do healthy. What do you have in mind?”
“You’re so eager,” he chuckles, pulling out of the parking lot and beginning to make his way to his home. “Can’t you just be a good girl and wait and see?”
Good girl. Your eyes narrow at him and bite your lower lip. All of the nicknames he’s been given you this last week: Love. Baby. Brat. Good girl. It shoots straight to your core and you look over at him, moving your hand to rest over his forearm that’s resting against the middle console. Two can play that game, you tell yourself.
“What if…” you whisper, running your fingertips lightly across his forearm. “What if I don’t want to be a good girl?”
That causes Hugh’s head to turn. He stops the car at a red light, knowing that you’re both only about twenty minutes away from his house. His hand grips the steering wheel as he looks down at you, noticing the look in your eyes. “Oh, you know what you’re doing, don’t you, baby?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m just trying to figure out what you’re gonna feed me.”
“Oh, I’ll feed you something, alright,” he smirks, turning his attention back on the road once the light turns green. Hugh moves his hand back to your leg, but he keeps it resting on your thigh. He knows that if he pushes this further, he’d end up pulling over on the side of the road and taking you in this car.
After twenty minutes, he pulls into his parking garage and notices the look on your face. He can tell that you’re in shock and in awe over his house, and he knows just what you’re about to say so he reaches over to take your hand in his, lifting it to his lips. “Don’t say what you’re about to say, love.”
“You don’t know what I’m gonna say, Hugh.”
Hugh chuckles and pressing his lips against your knuckles. “I know you’re gonna make a comment about me being so–”
“Rich,” you finish for him. “You’re rich. I mean, look at your place and–”
Hugh shakes his head and interrupts you by pressing his lips against yours. The kiss was meant to quiet you, but instead, you take the initiative to climb over the console and straddle his lap while he’s seated in the driver’s seat. His hands move to your hips as he moves his lips slowly against your own.
“Mmm,” you whimper against his lips, rolling your hips slowly. Your hands move to tangle in his hair as you nip and bite at his lower lip.
Hugh growls against your lips, moving his hands to run up along your thighs and underneath your shirt. God, you make him feel like a teenager all over again because he’s throbbing almost painfully at the way your hips roll against his own. He needs to adjust himself or get some relief because he’s so hard underneath you that he has to pull away from you.
“Here you are again,” he whispers. “Distracting me,” Hugh continues, pulling his hands away from you to rest gently on your upper thighs.
“Okay, okay,” you giggle. “Can I shower while you make lunch?”
“Yeah, let me show you around.” He opens the driver’s side of the door and watches you climb off his lap. Hugh adjusts himself in his shorts and then climbs out after you, walking to the trunk of his car and grabbing both of your bags.
With his free hand, he takes yours and you can’t help but smile. You turn your hand to lace your fingers with his as he leads you into his home. You look around in awe, the white walls, high ceilings, and floor-to-ceiling windows make you feel incredibly small, but despite the large space that Hugh has brought you in, it feels very homey. Very comfortable. You can’t help but look around, surrounded by the amazing view of the city and the natural light coming into his home. You then quickly release his hand only to remove your shoes and he smiles at you, leaning against the wall near the stairs
“You didn’t have to take your shoes off.”
“Are you kidding me? Look at this floor! I don’t want to get it dirty.”
Hugh laughs and then motions towards the stairs to his left. “I can set your things in the guest bedroom and you can shower there. Or…” he says, biting his lower lip as he takes in your frame, making it very obvious that he’s checking you out. You know where his mind wanders and you stand up to rest your hands on his chest, leaning up on your toes to place a gentle kiss on his lips.
“Don’t tell me you’re not gonna show me where the magic happens,” you tease with a quiet giggle.
“I just want to make sure you’re comfortable,” he replies.
“I’m comfortable,” you answer honestly. “With you, it’s easy. I can be myself and that’s saying something.” You don’t want to get too much into detail. This is supposed to just be casual. You don’t need to tell Hugh your life story and how you came to be the way that you are.
“Oh,” Hugh smiles. His eyes sparkle as he looks into your own and it makes your heart melt. “The feeling is mutual, actually.” He finally says. “Come on. Let’s head up.”
You follow him up the stairs, but you’re distracted by the amount of pictures and paintings that are hung up along the wall. You want to stop and admire each one, but instead, you keep following him. Once at the top of the stairs, Hugh leads you down the hallway and opens the door. You widen your eyes at the amount of space. It looks so much bigger than your apartment and this is only a bedroom!
“Jesus,” you whisper under your breath.
Hugh sets both of your bags down near the bed and watches you with a small smile. You’re walking around his bedroom and he finds that he likes seeing you here. In his home. With him. He watches you walk towards the windows, arms crossing over your chest as he hears you let out a sigh.
Slowly, Hugh walks towards you and gently wraps his arms around you from behind. He rests his head against you and places a soft kiss on the side of your neck.
“What’s got you sighing, love?” he asks quietly.
“It’s just an amazing view. I always loved seeing the city and it’s just–” you sigh. “It’s beautiful. You can see everything.”
“You should see the view of the sunset,” Hugh smiles against you. “If you want to stay, I can also make us dinner.”
Slowly, you turn in his arms and look up at him. You feel his hands move to rest on your lower back as he pulls you flush against him. You still can’t believe you’re here with him, with Hugh Jackman. The way he’s made you feel in just a short amount of time of knowing him does scare you, but you can’t help the pull you feel towards him.
“What’s next, Hugh? Spend the night?” you tease, bringing your hands up his arms to his shoulders, taking your time to feel the muscles underneath your fingertips.
“Would that be a bad thing?” he says, dipping his head lower to press a light kiss on your lips.
“I didn’t pack an overnight bag,” you smile.
“Who says you’re gonna need the clothes?” Hugh winks, moving his hand down to grasp your backside with a firm grip. It causes you to gasp and wrap your arms around his shoulders, burying your face against his neck.
“You’re a tease.”
Hugh chuckles and pulls away to look down at you. “If you’re comfortable with it, I’d love it if you’d stay. At least for dinner.”
You bite your lower lip and stare up at him. You try to remind yourself that you deserve this, that you deserve something good, that you deserve him. “As long as you’re not tired of me yet, I’d love to stay.”
“I could never,” he says with a big grin. “Okay, I’ll let you shower. I’m gonna shower in the other bathroom. Come downstairs whenever you’re done.”
“Thank you, Hugh.” You say seriously, bringing your hand up to his cheek. You feel the stubble against your fingertips as your eyes scan his features. He leans into your touch and slowly turns his head to press a kiss into your palm.
“It’s my pleasure, baby. I’ll see you in a bit.” Hugh places a kiss on your forehead, pulling away slowly as he looks at you with a broad smile. Then, he walks into his closet and leaves you in the bedroom as you walk over to grab your bag. You then walk inside the bathroom and shut the door behind you. If his bedroom surprised you, his bathroom was a different story.
This doesn’t feel real. How can someone like you be here with someone like him? You wonder if this is his way of just having fun. Your trainer mentioned he was single and you assumed he was married. You would be lying if you said you never searched him on Google, but the last time you checked, he was a married man for over twenty years. Maybe this was just his way of getting back out there and that this wasn’t going to be anything serious.
You try to tell yourself to enjoy the ride, even if it may not last long.
“I deserve this,” you whisper to yourself. “I’m enough.” You continue to say this over and over again, trying to revert the negative thoughts that begin to creep in your mind with the negative self-talk.
—
After thirty minutes, you step out of his bathroom dressed in casual loungewear. You didn’t know what to bring, so you opted for comfortability. You’re wearing black knit pants with a black crop top. It’s a matching lounge set and when you begin to make your way downstairs, you can hear quiet music playing in the kitchen. You’re walking barefoot, the cold tile of the floor causing your feet to wiggle at the coolness.
When you round the corner, you see Hugh setting the table in the corner. His windows capture your attention because everywhere you look, it’s a clear view of the city. His hair is slightly damp and he’s also barefoot, dressed in a fitted black t-shirt and gray joggers. He looks so normal like this, so domesticated and unlike the persona he presents to the media. You feel lucky to get even a glimpse of this side of him.
“Hey,” you call out, seeing him turn around to face you. He grins in your direction, his eyes taking in your frame.
“Hey,” he replies. “You look comfy.”
“I am comfy,” you smile, walking towards him. “It smells good.”
“Ah,” Hugh chuckles. “It’s just eggs, toast, and avocado. Strict diet,” he points out again.
“Well, good thing I like all of those things. Thank you for making me lunch.” You’re about to sit down before Hugh pulls you into his arms. He cups your cheek with one hand while his other wraps his arm around your waist.
“Thank you for having lunch with me.” Hugh says softly. “I really…” he sighs quietly. “I’m really enjoying the time we’re spending with each other.”
“Me too, Hugh,” you smile, leaning against his touch. “Come on, let’s eat.”
Hugh nods and pecks your lips and pulls away slowly. He rests his forehead against yours as he exhales a quiet breath. There’s an unspoken feeling that lingers in the air between the both of you and Hugh can’t deny it. He knows there’s an age gap, knows that his lifestyle might be completely different than what you’re used to, but he knows that he wants more of this. He wants more moments with you.
“What?” you ask quietly.
“Nothing, baby. Let’s eat.” Hugh then pulls away to pull out your chair. He watches you take a seat and then he moves to sit next to you, arm draping over the back of your chair. He sees you look up to stare at the view and he smiles to himself, leaning in to kiss your temple.
Throughout lunch, you feel more and more comfortable. Your legs are curled underneath the chair as you lean against his side, resting your head against his shoulder. You can’t help but notice how much you laugh when you’re with him and how much you love seeing his smile and hearing his laugh.
He pays close attention to you and it makes you feel seen and heard and unlike anything you’ve felt before. Even though you aren’t in a relationship with Hugh, it makes you daydream and imagine just exactly what it would be like. You know that you can get used to this, spending more and more time with him like this. In his home. In yours. You realize that you want him more permanently in your life, in whatever way that may be.
“Okay, okay,” you say, looking up at him after you both finish eating. “What was your first impression of me?”
Hugh arches a brow. “Honestly?”
“Yeah, honestly.”
Hugh turns to face you and tilts his head to the side. “Well, for one, you were on all fours so I couldn’t help but take a peek.”
You feign a gasp and gently push against his chest. “Naughty, Hugh!”
Hugh chuckles and shakes his head. “But I liked your honesty. I liked that you were just… You. Genuinely you. You don’t see that very often, especially not around me.”
“Oh, right. Big celebrity and all,” you tease, rolling your eyes playfully.
Hugh smiles. “Seriously. Some people just get close to you because they want something out of it. It’s hard to tell if someone is being genuine or not, but with you…” he says, beginning to trail off with a shake of his head. “I know we joke around a lot, calling me the Hugh Jackman, how famous I am, but I just feel like you see me for me. Not as the Hugh Jackman,” he chuckles. “Your honesty was refreshing. It’s like I mentioned before. You’re a breath of fresh air, baby.”
You bite your lower lip as you listen to him talk. You feel your stomach do flips and you lean in to press a soft kiss on his lips. His hand drops to your hip as he rubs circles against you, feeling your skin against the pad of his thumb as your shirt rides up when you wrap your arms around his shoulders.
“I feel comfortable around you,” you reply. “Like I can truly be myself and I haven’t had that in a very long time. I feel like I’m becoming myself again.”
Hugh smiles, slowly pulling you onto his lap. You lean back against the table as your arms remain loosely around his shoulders as his hands rest on your hips.
“Did something–” Hugh begins. “Happen? I remember our trainer mentioning something about negative self-talk last week…”
You bite your lower lip. You weren’t planning on ever telling him your past relationship because you didn’t feel like you needed to. This wasn’t going to be serious… Right?
“I just got out of a three year relationship a few months ago. I gave a lot of myself into that relationship and never got anything in return. I just–” you sigh, looking away from him. “It’s embarrassing. I just let myself go.”
Hugh sighs and hooks a finger under your chin to get you to look at him. His eyes search yours, staring deeply into you. “It’s not embarrassing. It just shows that you have a lot of love to give and he took that for granted.”
Your eyes soften as you look at him. You never did think of it that way and you didn’t realize just how much you needed to hear that. There’s a silence that engulfs the both of you and you feel tears sting the corners of your eyes, pent up emotions threatening to spill out.
“Oh,” he whispers, his own eyes widening slightly. “I didn’t– Baby, are you okay?” Hugh says softly, gently cupping your cheek.
You don’t respond. Instead, you just lean in to press your lips firmly against his warm and soft lips. You feel the warmth bloom in your chest, butterflies in the pit of your stomach, and for once in a very long time, you feel whole. Not because of Hugh, but because of the words he said.
He was right.
You did have a lot of love to give.
“Mm, wait, wait,” Hugh says, pulling away to look at you. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yes,” you say, almost breathlessly. “Take me to your room?”
His eyes slightly widen, brows raising. “Oh.” Hugh says. “Oh. Yeah, come on.” He stands from his chair and takes your hand in his, helping you to stand from your own seat. You take his hand eagerly, using your free hand to hold onto his forearm as well as you allow him to lead you back up the stairs and into his room.
You can feel the thrumming in your chest, the anticipation looming in the pit of your stomach, and you’re certainly aware of the throbbing you feel in between your legs. Hugh brings your joined hands to his lips, pressing a soft kiss on the back of your hand before he leads you down the hall and into his room. Once inside, he shuts the door behind him and turns around to face you.
You can see the look in his eyes. It’s filled with lust and desire, turning to a darker shade. The backs of your legs touch his mattress and he walks towards you, arms reaching out to rest on your hips as he leans down to capture your lips softly.
“Been thinking about this, about you,” he whispers against your lips. “I don’t normally do this,” Hugh begins, pulling away to look into your eyes.
“Do what? Have casual sex?” you tease, moving your hands up his arms and giving his biceps a gentle squeeze.
“I wouldn’t call this casual,” Hugh points out. “At least I don’t want it to be,” he admits. “Is that okay?”
“You know, this is a conversation people usually have after having sex.” You smile, hands moving further up his biceps to his shoulders and to the nape of his neck where you tangle your fingers in his dark hair. “But I also don’t want this to be casual either…” you whisper quietly. “And I also don’t normally do this too.”
Hugh smiles. You can see his eyes sparkle with excitement as he snakes his arms around your frame. “We’re just stepping out of our comfort zones, aren’t we?”
“Nothing wrong with that,” you reply, slowly sitting on the bed and pulling him on top of you. He uses one hand to rest above your head while the other remains around your waist and gently moves the both of you in the middle of the bed. It’s so large and you’re sure that it has to be an extra large king sized bed or something, because even he looks small on it.
Slowly, Hugh moves to settle himself between your legs and smiles to himself when he looks down to see you wrap your legs around his waist. He places both of hands at either side of your head to keep himself propped up as he looks down at you, hair splayed against his white sheets, staring up at him with doe-like eyes, twinkling against the natural light that comes through his large windows.
He says your name quietly, leaning down slowly as his lips hover against yours. “I fear if we do this, there’s no going back.”
You nod in agreement and move your hands from the nape of his neck to cup his cheeks. “I’m okay with it. Are you?”
Hugh nods, turning his head to kiss the inside of your palm again. “Yeah,” he says softly. “I’m okay with it,” he repeats.
“Good because I’ve been wanting you since this morning and I think I’ve been a real good girl waiting so patiently for this,” you tease with a grin.
“A good girl, huh?” Hugh grins, his eyes darkening once more. “I wonder what good girls get.”
“A reward. Good girls get a reward.”
“Yeah, they do,” Hugh then leans in to press his lips against yours. He wastes no time in moving his lips, hands dropping to your hips. Hugh can’t help the feeling that weighs on his chest and the flutters in the pit of his stomach. He was open to dating and getting back out there after his divorce, but he didn’t think that it would happen anytime soon. He enjoys your company, enjoys the fact that you make him laugh, enjoys the way you look at him and the way you make him feel.
You move your hands to his hair, tangling your fingers in his dark locks as he deepens the kiss even further. You part your lips, letting out a quiet gasp when you feel his tongue slide into your mouth. You buck your hips against him, feeling him press himself firmly against your core. He grunts against your lips and it reverberates in his chest, causing it to come out as a quiet growl.
Hugh moves his hands underneath your shirt, letting his hands move upwards along your sides until he realizes that you weren’t wearing a bra. He feels the center of his sweatpants get increasingly tighter and uncomfortable the more he kisses you paired with the movements of your hips.
“You’re tellin’ me,” he mumbles, pulling back slightly to nip at your lower lip and move his lips along your jawline. “That the entire time we were eating and laughing downstairs that you weren’t wearing a bra?” Hugh’s large hands come up to cover both of your breasts underneath your shirt as he pushes his hips into you. He drags his tongue along the side of your neck, your moans and whimpers directly in his ear.
“I told you I was comfy,” you moan, feeling the pads of his thumbs brush against your nipples. “Hugh…” you moan, eyes fluttering shut as the sensations of his hands, his lips, and his hardened length pressing against you becomes too much. It’s everything all at once and you try to tell yourself to take your time, to let him set the pace, but you just want to roll him over on his back and ride him like your entire life depended on it.
“I know, baby,” he whispers, gently biting down the side of your neck and sucking on it afterwards. Hugh pulls back to look at the mark slowly appearing and he grins to himself. He isn’t usually the type of person to leave any marks, but for some reason, it excites him to know that you’ll be walking around the next few days with a reminder of today. And it’s all because of him.
Hugh leans back on his knees and grabs the ends of your shirt to lift over your head. You raise your arms above to allow him to remove your shirt and once he does, he tosses it carelessly over his shoulder as he sees your chest fully exposed for him.
“Fuck,” he groans. Like a man possessed, Hugh leans down and grasps your breasts in both hands. He growls to himself and leans down to wrap his lips around one nipple, feeling it harden between his lips as he sucks. He uses his other hand to caress your unattended breast and you immediately arch your back in the air, pushing your breasts further into his face.
“Hugh,” you moan, biting your lower lip as you feel the wetness begin to build between your legs. You need some friction, you need some pressure because you’re throbbing and squeezing around nothing yet you can feel his hardened manhood right where you need him. “I need to feel you, please…”
Hugh looks up at you and then turns his attention to the other breast, gently nipping so that he can pay equal attention to them. A few moments pass before he pulls back to lift his own shirt over his head.
You let out a quiet gasp, looking up at him. You’ve seen pictures of him and you know that his physique isn’t something that he hides, but seeing it up close, within arms reach, it does something to you. You reach out and run your fingertips along his abdomen to his chest and back down. A blush appears along your neck and up to your cheeks as you gently tug on the waistband of his sweatpants.
“God, you are beautiful,” you blurt out. You stare into his eyes and you both let out a quiet chuckle.
“Me?” he says, taking your hands and kissing your knuckles before he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your pants. Slowly, Hugh pulls your pants and your panties off your body, once more tossing the clothing across the room. You’re lying back, completely naked and exposed for him. “You’re fucking beautiful,” he finally says. Normally, you’d be very self-conscious about how you look, especially naked in front of Hugh Jackman, but the way he’s looking at you makes you feel comfortable and confident. He’s truly looking at you like you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever seen before.
Then, Hugh drags his hand down the front of your chest, down to your abdomen, until it hovers between your legs. He gently parts your legs even further, giving him a clear view of your folds that glisten against the natural light. Hugh then lets his index finger run across your slit, groaning to himself when he feels your wetness coat him. He looks up at you briefly, seeing your eyes fall shut as your hands reach out to grasp the sheets.
He smirks proudly to himself and leans over you, peppering kisses along your neck and chest and back up as he slowly slides his finger past your folds and into your hole. Hugh groans against you, feeling just how tight you feel around one finger and it excites him to know just how good it’d feel when he finally pushes his cock into you. To relieve some pressure, he uses his free hand to push down his pants and boxers, letting out a groan of relief as his cock finally springs free from its confines.
You don’t open your eyes though, still too focused on the way his finger slowly moves in and out of your depths. You’re so wet, so warm, so tight that Hugh tries to take it slow. He then adds another finger, watching as your eyes slightly open at the second intrusion. You feel your walls stretch at his second finger and you finally look down, eyes widening even further at the sight of his length. He’s red at the tip, leaking, and throbbing. It makes your mouth water at the sight because all you want to do is drop down onto your knees and take him into your mouth. Maybe next time, you tell yourself.
His fingers begin to move at a faster pace, the sounds of squelching echoing throughout his large bedroom. Hugh rests his forehead against yours, turning his hand so that he can rub your clit with the pad of his thumb. He knows you’re close, knows that your body is going to give way to him. He can feel you begin to tremble and he smiles.
“You’re so wet,” he whispers against your lips. “I can feel you’re close, baby. Don’t hold back. Let go for me.” His voice is much deeper and you can’t help but nod in his direction, your arms reaching out to wrap around his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as your back arches in the air.
“Hugh!” His name escapes your lips with a loud moan, feeling your body shake as you try to ride out your climax. He doesn’t let up though, still continuing to thrust his fingers in and out of you at a quick pace. He watches you, watches as you shut your eyes tight, mouth slightly agape, back arched as you tighten around his fingers – it’s something that Hugh will forever remember. He can feel your walls throbbing and he slowly pulls his fingers out of you, looking down at your slickness and slowly bringing it to his lips. Then, he sucks.
Your eyes open to watch him. He’s staring at you as he licks his fingers clean of your release and it’s so dirty, so hot, that you grab his shoulders and push him onto his back. He kicks off his pants and boxers as his cock rests against his lower abdomen, throbbing painfully and impatiently.
“You taste fuckin’ good, baby.” Hugh smirks. “Can’t wait to eat you up later.”
You bite your lower lip and slowly straddle his lap as your eyes move across his face and down to the rest of his body. He’s so chiseled, so muscular. Your eyes deviate further down, seeing the patch of hair between his legs and then his cock. You bring your hand to your mouth and quietly spit into the pit of your palm before reaching down to slowly wrap your hand around his base, feeling the weight and warmth of it in your hand. Then, you tighten your grip and begin to pump your hand up and down. His eyes flutter at the sensation, continuous groans escaping his lips.
He says your name in a quiet moan as you continue to move your hand along his base. Your movements begin to speed up before Hugh’s hand darts out to grab your wrist, making you cease movements altogether.
“You keep that up and I’m not gonna last long,” Hugh admits.
You narrow your eyes and use your thumb to run across the tip of his cock, his precum spreading over it as you hear him let out another moan. You smile to yourself and bring your thumb to your mouth, seeing it slick with his precum before you lean in and suck, your tongue darting out to wipe it from your thumb.
“Mm, you taste good too. I also can’t wait to get down on my knees and just devour you, Hugh.” That earns you a growl as he gently lifts you so that he can grab his cock in his hand to line his tip between your folds.
“You’re naughty,” he smirks. “I like it.” Hugh moves his free hand to your hip and slowly lowers you down onto him. The tip of his cock enters you and he tries so hard not to just ram up into you because he wants more, needs more. He feels your hands rest on his chest and he flexes subconsciously as you slowly begin to lower yourself further onto his cock. Inch by inch, you feel an almost painful stretch of his cock because you know that you’re tight and you know for sure that you haven’t had anyone as big as Hugh.
“Fuck,” he grunts, moving his hands onto your hips as you continue to lower yourself onto him until he fills you to the hilt. You’re so tight and warm and wet around him that Hugh just knows he isn’t going to last long.
You take a moment to get used to his girth and his length. In this position, you feel him so deep within your depths. You’re so full of him and you find that you can just stay here for the rest of your days. Hugh’s eyes begin to flutter shut as you roll your hips forwards and backwards, your hands still resting on his chest. The hair at his base provides the perfect friction against your clit and you feel the tightness in the pit of your stomach begin to grow more and more prominent.
“Hugh, oh god,” you moan aloud, continuing your movements before you begin to bounce along his length.
Hugh growls, hands gripping your hips as his fingertips dig into your skin. He knows that’s going to leave a mark later, but he can’t help the sensation. Your walls are gripping him in a tight vice as you move along him, your walls sliding along his cock.
“You feel amazing,” he begins, lifting his hips slowly to meet yours. Hugh groans, holding you up just slightly to give himself room to begin to thrust upwards into you. Hugh’s thrusts quicken as he watches your breasts bounce with each movement. You toss your head back as you reach back to rest your hands on his thighs and Hugh’s gaze drops down as he watches himself move in and out of your depths. He can see his cock is slick with your wetness, allowing for him to move easily within your folds.
“Oh god, oh god,” you moan, beginning to lose your resolve. You lean forward to wrap your arms around his shoulders, your chest flushed against his, face buried against the side of his neck as Hugh’s thrusts become more erratic, more rough and the sound of skin slapping against one another echoes loudly through his room.
“Come for me, love,” he whispers into your ear. “I know you can gimme another.”
It was all you needed to slam yourself down onto him, shaking against him as your walls tighten even further around him. Hugh has to stop himself from thrusting because he knows that if he were to continue, he’d lose it too and he wants to be on top when he does.
You’re both breathing heavily when Hugh slowly rolls you onto your back. He leans down to peck your lips lightly, hands moving to brush your hair away from your face. Then, Hugh moves his hips against you. He pulls back to his tip before he slams himself back into you.
“Eyes on me, baby,” he whispers, seeing as your eyes begin to flutter shut. You’re already so sensitive and you don’t know if you can last any longer, but staring deeply into Hugh’s eyes as his thrusts continue forces you to hold out. You know that if you reach another orgasm that you’d be spent for the rest of the day and you’re sure Hugh knows it too.
“Hugh,” you moan, legs wrapped loosely around his hips as he continues to thrust into you. “You feel…” your arms wrap around his shoulders as nails dig into his skin. “You feel so good.”
Hugh smirks at that and gently kisses the tip of your nose as hands drop to your hips to hold you steady against the bed. “You feel so good too, baby.” Then, Hugh feels the tightness in the pit of his stomach and he knows he’s close. His thrusts become more sloppy and his mouth is slightly agape as both of your moans mix in with one another.
“I’m close,” he mumbles. “Where–”
“Inside,” you reassure him. “On the pill.”
“Are you– Fuck,” Hugh growls. “Are you sure?”
“Come in me, Hugh.” You answer, letting out a loud moan as his thrusts continue to get more rough. He reaches down and rubs his thumb against your clit. Suddenly, you’re so very aware that you’re about to reach yet another orgasm and Hugh’s eyes stare into yours. This is your first time having sex with him and yet, it seems like he already knows so much about what gets you there.
“Oh, Hugh… Hugh!” you exclaim, back arching as your eyes shut and your walls tighten once more around his length.
Hugh groans and thrusts once more before he releases himself inside of you. He buries his face against the side of your neck, lazily nipping at your skin as you throb around him. Hugh then looks up at you and smiles, seeing you return one of your own.
“I’m spent,” you chuckle.
Hugh lets out a quiet laugh and pecks your lips lightly. “Three times, huh?”
“Three times. That’s a first.”
Hugh grins proudly. “That was amazing, love.” Slowly, he pulls out of you and you both let out a quiet whimper. When he pulls out of you completely, you suddenly feel less whole, less filled. He lies back next to you and pulls you into his arms, noticing the mark along your neck and the marks of his fingertips on your hips.
“I think I made a few marks and bruises,” Hugh says.
You arch a brow and then slowly begin to smile. You point to his shoulders and his back as you lean up to peck his lips. “I think I did too.”
Hugh lets out a quiet laugh and shuts his eyes, feeling you snuggle further into his side. He can get used to this. He feels like you belong here with him.
“So,” he begins. “Stay the night?”
You look up at him and smile, leaning up on your elbow to kiss his chin. You see his eyes open to look down at you, staring at you with soft eyes. “Oh, after that? I’m definitely staying the night.”
---
taglist (if links don't work, i'm sorry!): @corvusmorte - @dragonqueen89 - @whimsiwitchy - @kellyxo1 - @wolviehugh - @moonxknightx - @sullyselena - @angelofthorr - @spectorrrhgf - @needz1nk
#hugh jackman#hugh jackman fanfiction#hugh jackman fanfic#hugh jackman x reader#hugh jackman x fem!reader#hugh jackman x f!reader#story: training partners#real person fanfiction#real person fanfic
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Slasher 141 again, how would they meet their wife? Victim turned pet? Or did she meet them 'normally', or heat me out! An online forum about killers, turned meeting to 'discuss favorites', turned demonstration? Of course, either way, she's theirs now.
I enjoy this au very much sorry 😅
A trivia date night with Johnny turns into something more ;)
Warnings: Dark stuff, obviously (murder, cold cases, etc). Food + alcohol consumption. Fem!Reader.
Sudsnblood: Here. WBU?
You: I see a mohawk, that you?
Sudsnblood: Aye.
Excitedly, you smooth out your dress and make your way over to the man in the corner who’s giving you a little wave. Is it stupid, agreeing to meet with an odd stranger you’ve been bonding with on the internet over fictional killers and real, gruesome murders? Absolutely. Do you care? Absolutely not. After all, he is local, and the pub is having a trivia night with a category both of you are experts in: cold cases. Not to mention how much more handsome he is in person.
“Hey,” you grin, reaching over the table to place your hand in his and shake it politely.
Johnny returns your greeting with a charming smile and a confirmation of your name. He only lets go once you’ve nodded, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms over his chest.
“Ah havenae ordered anythin’ yet,” he informs you, pushing a menu your way. “Figured ah’ll get wha’ ye do.”
“Mm, got a copycat on my hands, huh?” You tease, catching his eye contact momentarily before moving your gaze back to the list of appetizers.
“Ah’m no’ a copycat, ah assure ye,” he grabs the top of your menu and pushes it down to the table so you’ll look at him again.
His expression is so serious, leaving no room for confusion or doubt in your mind. You raise an eyebrow and nod slowly.
“Got it. What do you think about potato skins for an app?”
Trivia takes about two hours, and of course, the two of you won against six other tables who did not have quite the extensive knowledge you and Johnny share. You’re two beers deep and he’s got one more on you, tipsy and flirty.
“Ah’m gonna call one o’me partners tae come get us,” Johnny explains, wrapping an arm around your waist and guiding you outside the front of the building to wait with him.
You nod and he pulls a cigarette out of the carton in his pocket, lighting it up and handing it to you. You take a drag while he talks on the phone—to a Simon, you observe—exhaling slowly and watching as the smoke crystallizes in the cold winter air. He’s only on the phone for a few moments before he’s asking for his cig back, blowing the smoke away from you.
“D’ye trust me?” He asks after a while of silence.
You nod once again, eyebrows slightly furrowed. Johnny drops the butt of the cigarette on the ground and snuffs it out with the toe of his boot, leaning in until the warmth of his breath ghosts the shell of your ear. It sends goosebumps rising up all over your body, and you shiver, grabbing a hold of his firm biceps through his leather jacket.
“Wha’ if ah told ye ah’m one o’the killers they were askin ‘bout?” He murmurs into your ear.
You pull back with an amused grin, expecting him to have a matching expression, laugh and tell you he’s joking. But when you meet his eyes, he’s deadly serious. There’s no hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, just a deadpan gaze that scans along your face, watching for a reaction. Your smile drops and you swallow hard, your breathing rapidly speeding up.
“I’d say that I believe you, and it doesn’t change my feelings towards you.”
“Ye’re gonna get along jus’ fine,” Johnny finally smiles, wide enough for an average person to feel a sense of unease, but to you, it just adds to his charm.
By the time Simon arrives, Johnny’s got you pinned against the wall with his hands full of your soft tits and his tongue down your throat. Simon chuckles and honks the horn of his truck to alert you both of his presence, giving you a nod of acknowledgement as Johnny hustles you into the backseat with him.
“She know?”
“Aye, she does.”
Simon nods, adjusting the rear-view mirror so that he can see the two of you better.
“Good.”
#mmmmm johnny#ask me!#call of duty#cod#cod mw2#slasher!141#slasher!141 x fem!reader#johnny mactavish#simon riley#soap x reader#johnny mactavish x reader
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Face to Face (III)
Fridolina Rolfö x reader; Alexia Putellas x reader (platonic); Barça x reader (platonic)
Summary: your Barça teammates swoop in to save the day (or at least they do their best)
Word Count: 3.1k
A/N: okay don't kill me but Frido isn't in this much... enjoy some sweet Barça hurt/comfort to make up for it because she'll be back soon. as usual everything is pure fiction and written in good fun! PREVIOUS PART
Warnings ⚠️: medical description, slight angst
"Hola Nena," Alexia said in a hushed voice as she came into your hospital room. Laura and Zećira had left earlier that morning with your mom, assuring you they would be back later in the evening.
Alexia had a stuffed giraffe and a small bouquet of yellow roses in hand, and she looked at you with soft eyes. You smiled at her weakly, the light in the room dim enough that the subtleties in her face were blurred. If you focused too much on them your head began to hurt more intensely.
"¿Cómo estás?"
You gave her a thumbs up, pleased with the smile you got out of her.
It was quickly replaced again with concern as you winced, a sharp pain searing behind your eyes as she set a vase down on the windowsill for the flowers.
"Has anyone else been over to visit?"
You knew it was Alexia's subtle way of asking if Frido had come. As far as you knew Alexia was in the dark as to your relationship (or lack thereof) with the Swede, but you could never be sure with her.
"Laura… Zećira and Magda came right after the game."
Alexia nodded. She took the giraffe and placed it on your chest, shaking it a bit as if you were a child she wanted to entice.
"You know you'll be out of training for a bit, sí?"
"Sí."
You weren't pleased with it, but there was no denying that you needed the rest. You could barely bear to open the blinds for now.
"Jona agrees, you should stay with someone when you get home. A few of the girls have spare rooms, so there's options. Ingrid and Mapí offered, and of course you can stay with me if you want."
You thought for a moment, letting Alexia's fast Spanish sink in. Your brain felt sluggish, as if everything took thirty seconds longer.
"If you don't mind… maybe I can stay with you?"
Alexia put a hand over yours, smiling brightly.
"Of course. I'd be happy to have you."
You chuckled.
"I'm not sure I'll be much fun for the next few weeks."
Alexia shrugged.
"It doesn't matter to me, we all take you how you are."
A comfortable silence fell over the room, and you began drifting off. Alexia promised to stay while you slept, her hand protectively on your calf as she studied up for the next Barça game.
Cómo está la alemana? Alexia saw her phone light up with a text from Mapí. She quickly snapped a photo of you asleep, frowning at your coloring and the wires that monitored your heartbeat. It was just a precaution, but it reminded one of how much worse this could've been.
Sleeping. She replied, attaching the photo.
Her head? Mapí replied immediately.
Not good, but not horrible. No training for a few weeks. Doctor said it was a serious concussion, but not severe.
Alexia watched as the three dots indicating Mapí was texting popped up, then disappeared, repeating a few times. Finally, just the message.
I'm glad she's okay.
Alexia knew there was much more weight behind that text than met the eye. You were vital to Barça—every player was, of course. But you had a kindness in you that helped glue the team together even when things were falling apart. Everyone was fond of you, and those you seemed to have chosen on the team (Mapí included) as your close friends cherished that. It was as if you had shone a light on them just by being around.
Alexia thought just of how much your Spanish had improved in the past few months. You spoke better Spanish than most of the international players—and it wasn't just because you had some kind of propensity for language. Alexia had seen you studying in your free time, listening to podcasts, practicing. She asked you once, why you did that; you replied that you simply wanted to understand them better.
That was how you were, thoughtful and kind and lovable. And it hurt everyone on the team to see you hurt—particularly because there was an added element of complexity with it having been Frido who caused it.
"Alexia?" Your groggy voice called out, "can you hand me my cup of water, please?"
"Of course, Nena."
Alexia watched as you drank slowly, and sat by as a nurse came in to examine you. She checked your pupils again, and didn't look pleased.
"I'm going to ask the doctor to order another round of scans, just to double check that no bleeds have popped up that we didn't see before."
"Why?" Alexia asked, concerned. She didn't feel equipped to deal with this totally on her own, especially with the doctor speaking English so quickly, with seemingly no time to explain or guide her through things.
"They're worried I've got a bleed in my brain because of how I fell, Ale." You explained to her.
"I thought they already checked that?" Alexia replied, trying to keep her Spanish slow enough for you to easily understand.
"Sometimes things can only show up on the scans after a little while, because they start so small. I hurt my head when I was younger in a similar area, so they're being extra careful."
Alexia rubbed her temples, worry increasing massively. She turned to the doctor.
"Will she be able to come home, still?"
"If the scans come out clean, then yes. She can be taken back to Spain." The nurse looked to you and asked in German, "you have a doctor there, yes?"
You nodded.
"She will need to be checked again in a little while, and monitored. Does she live with anyone?"
"She'll be living with me." Alexia assured the nurse.
A little while later, the doctor came in and wheeled you off to the CT scan. Alexia was not allowed to accompany you, so she stayed behind, waiting for you in that empty room. Suddenly it truly hit her how serious things could've been. There hadn't been more than a few bruises on you, so it wasn't as easy to understand how hurt you were. ACL, meniscus, these were things Alexia knew. Head injuries? Those certainly felt more daunting.
"María?" Alexia spoke into the phone.
"Alexia? Is everything okay?"
Alexia bit her lip, wishing she could keep herself in check a little more.
"Alexia?" Mapí repeated.
"Yes, sorry, yes I think so. They took her for more scans and it just… I don't know, it hit me."
Alexia heard Mapí speaking to someone in the background.
"Is someone with you?"
"Sí, Ingrid is here, and Pina and Patri are over for a movie. But I stepped out, so talk."
"The doctors were talking about brain bleeds and surgery, and I just couldn't handle it. She was so calm and I felt like I was freaking out…"
"Brain bleeds?" Mapí exclaimed, fear in her voice. Alexia heard something in the background. "Does she need surgery?"
"They don't know if she has one yet. The first scan was clear but apparently they can take a while to be visible."
"Dios mio… one moment, Ale, Ingrid is demanding I tell her what you're saying."
Alexia listened in to the faint mumblings from the other line, looking at the floor. There were raised voices and then a few more joined in, and Mapí returned.
"You're on speaker now, Ale."
"She has a brain bleed?" Ingrid’s voice appeared, a mix of anger and concern evident.
"No, no, they don't know yet. They're checking."
"Is she talking? Does she seem okay?" Patri interjected.
"Sí, she was talking fine. Her head hurts, of course. She can't handle much light, or focus very well yet." Alexia paused. "I don't know if she seems okay, but she'll recover."
The muttering on the other end picked up again, this time more audible. The girls were worried, of course.
"Why the hell did Frido hit her so hard!" Patri exclaimed, then it sounded as if someone had lightly smacked her. But nobody seemed to have a good answer.
Alexia explained what more she could from what the doctors and Laura had told her about your condition, and promised to update them again later. Ingrid promised to keep the other girls in the loop so they wouldn’t bother Alexia, which she appreciated. Everything felt overwhelming enough as it was.
Eventually Alexia hung up once she heard your voice from outside of the door.
“Brain bleed free, Ale!” you smiled as the nurse wheeled you back into the room. You had the stuffed giraffe she gave you clenched in your hand, and you waved it at her as you spoke for emphasis.
“Yep, the scans look perfectly normal.” The nurse affirmed. “Now let’s not try our luck for a third time.”
You saluted her as she left the room, falling quiet soon after. Alexia could see that you were still low on energy.
“Why don’t you rest a little more? I’ll deal with the paperwork in the meantime. Then we can get you home.”
-
Olga had made up your room already when you arrived back in Barcelona. She greeted you and Alexia at the door, pressing a kiss to her girlfriend's lips and pulling you in for a soft hug.
"¿Cómo estás, linda?"
"Okay," you gave her a small smile.
"You're my baby for the week," Olga said, taking your arm out of Alexia's hold and instructing her to take your bags into the guest room.
You chuckled as Alexia rolled her eyes playfully and followed orders.
"Does it hurt a lot?"
You nodded, feeling like you could be honest with Olga.
“My ears won't stop ringing… it's driving me nuts.”
"Why don't you go and lay down on the couch for a bit? I'll make dinner in a little while."
After changing into a borrowed shirt and sweats you settled with your head in Alexia's lap. She was stroking your hair very gently, trying to do what she could to make you feel better. Once you were asleep she looked to Olga.
"How are you, mi amor?"
Alexia rubbed her eyes.
"Tired."
"You've had a few very difficult days… she'll be okay."
Olga looked at your sleeping form.
"I'm not sure how to approach it at practice next week." Alexia fell quiet, "I can't help but feel upset at Frido, because I don't understand. If she had looked worried, gone to visit, something, then it wouldn't seem so bad. But she just got up and ran away, didn't seem to care at all. It's so unlike her."
"You let her know that behavior isn't acceptable, yes?" Alexia nodded, "then that's all you can do. And keep an eye on her."
-
You walked out onto the training pitch carefully, a pair of sunglasses covering half of your face and a cap on your head. Alexia held your elbow, keeping you close. You were already shorter than much of the team but you somehow looked even smaller tucked into yourself like that. Hardly anyone had seen you since you got home because of Alexia's insistence that you rest; only Patri had managed to convince Alexia to let her come over, and that was because she was one of your best friends on the team and you were dying of boredom.
Frido hadn't seen you, or heard from you since the friendly. She hadn't been allowed in your hospital room when they kept you overnight for observation, nor had she tried to visit you as you stayed with Alexia. Part of her had been too afraid to ask her capitan if she could come over. And you weren't allowed any screens, so texting was a no-go.
Ingrid, Mapí, and Pina all came rushing towards you, slowing once they were near your pitiful form.
"How are you feeling, bebita?" Mapí asked softly, putting a hand on your shoulder.
"Like shit," you mumbled, giving her a grin.
"With the way your head bounced, it's a miracle it's still attached!" Pina joked in a whispered tone, prompting a smack on the arm from Alexia.
You chuckled, clearly not bothered.
Ingrid, who had been quiet until now, wrapped you in a soft hug. She was careful with your entire upper half though she didn't need to be. You returned her embrace, looping your arms over her shoulders.
"Are you sure you're alright?" She mumbled to you.
You nodded, patting her cheek as she pulled away.
After that Alexia declared that you were going to sit in the shade and were not to be bothered, a glance thrown specifically at Patri and Pina. The rest of the team nodded, giving you quick smiles and thumbs up. Frido continued to stand awkwardly on the side, not sure what the best thing to do was. Would you even want to talk to her? Probably not.
Alexia walked you over to the bench and gave you water and some ear plugs to quiet the noise of the field. Unfortunately you couldn't really do much, no reading or phones allowed. All you could really do was sleep, which you did not long after, lulled by the warm air and low sounds of your teammates playing.
You didn't wake up until about an hour later. You were hot in your light jacket, so you shucked it off and gently sat up. Your sunglasses made it so your head didn't hurt too badly. Caro noticed you were awake and waved at you. You waved back, sending her a smile.
Alexia had mentioned that everyone sent messages of well wishes, not only your Barça teammates but your German teammates, and even a few from the Swedish team. You couldn't use your phone to see them, but Alexia had read them to you one by one. It was a little overwhelming, the support. Even players you had only interacted with a few times had reached out to check in.
"Hola cari" Patri said, flopping herself down next to you. It was a water break, and you could see the team dispersing to grab their bottles from their bags.
"Hola, Patri."
"Here," Patri shifted so she was sitting up, and patted her lap for you to put your head in. "How do you feel? Is it okay if I talk in Spanish or is English better for your head?"
"How about German?" You joked, prompting a large smile from Patri.
"Hallo?" She said, her Spanish accent laughably thick. You patted her leg fondly.
"Spanish is okay. It doesn't hurt my head anymore than a different language."
Patri began to stroke your hair as the two of you caught up. You learned that she had fought hard to get you to stay with her even though she only had one bed (the couch was a perfectly fine alternative for her, she had tried to tell Alexia), and that she was going to the coast during the next break with her family. You told her about seeing your family in Germany before the match, and how big your niece had gotten. Before long, another presence joined you.
"Hi," Caro's soft voice called.
She crouched down in front of you two, giving a faint smile.
"Do you need anything? Did you bring anything to eat?"
You shook your head, and Caro disappeared for a moment. When she returned, there was a bag of crackers in her hand, and a banana.
"I also found this at the supermarket."
She pulled out a packet of cookies, a German brand that you loved as a kid.
"I remembered seeing them when I was playing at Wolfsburg all the time…I figured since you're from around there maybe you knew them?"
You took them from her and held her hand, squeezing it in thanks. It brought tears to your eyes.
"I loved these when I was little… thank you Caro."
Caro smiled at you, taking a seat on the grass across from you and eating quietly. The Norwegian wasn't much of a talker, but she showed her affection just by hanging around.
"Here," she offered some of her water, realizing you had run out.
You took the bottle hesitantly, but Caro was firm.
"Drink, it will help your head."
Soon it was time for everyone to get back on the pitch, and you were left alone again. You put on a podcast through your headphones, passing the time as best you could.
The podcast served mainly as background as you watched your teammates train. It was hot today, and you could see everyone having to work a little harder to keep up. Your eyes fell to Frido naturally, even though you wished it weren't the case. She was partnered with Aitana doing passing drills. Her form was near perfect, you were jealous of her impeccable footwork. She looked beautiful: her hair was done up in a bun, her legs were glowing in the sun, and the muscles in her arm rippled as she picked up her water bottle to get a quick drink. It was disappointing that you still wanted her, even after all of this. Maybe something was wrong with you.
Later, as you waited for Alexia to finish with some promo stuff, Ingrid wandered over to keep you company. Mapí must have been getting a little extra physio time since she had only just been cleared after her injury.
"Can I sit?" She asked you, gesturing to the spot where you sat on the field.
You nodded and smiled, pulling your headphones out.
"How are you feeling?"
You shrugged.
"It's not so bad now, just like a regular headache. They gave me some medication but I'd rather not…"
Ingrid rubbed your shoulder, pulling you a little closer to her.
"You gave us quite the scare."
"Don't tell me you watched the video." You shifted to look her in the eye. "I know it freaks you out, makes you paranoid."
Ingrid smoothed the crease between your eyebrows with her thumb.
"Don't worry about me. Now is the time for us all to fret over you."
You huffed and rolled your eyes, wincing as it hurt your head.
After chatting for a little while Ingrid began braiding your hair into the intricate patterns she had learned to do as a kid. She took care not to pull at your scalp too much, and the gentle motion of her fingers felt lovely on your head. You were more relaxed than you had been in months.
"Has Frido said anything to you?" Ingrid finally asked after a stretch of silence.
You raised your eyebrows, surprised at the question.
"No, we haven't spoken since before we went on international break."
Ingrid paused, but didn't press. You felt her desire to do so, however. You wondered if Frido had spoken to her at all.
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