#i have a feeling at least one person is gonna be like ‘oh wow the reflecty bits on the metal look really good!’

[beautifel]

seems like my heart does nothing but break lately

[seventh-district]

CW: mention of death and health issues (but it’s in a relatively positive light, for once!)

[simpjaes]

mdni. req by anon: pleaseeeeeee more innocent Jungwon with a dom Heeseung or Jake that gets jealous and ruins everything for him..like imagine Jungwon is finally going to lose his virginity to Y/N and Heeseung/Jake finds them in the act then decides to make him sit and watch how to do it correctly..

wc: 1.4k

tags: virginity loss, jungwon is jake's brother and jake is ur ex bf, reader is a whore we love her, voyeurism, exhibitionism

It’s not that he’s doing it wrong, it’s just that he doesn’t have the confidence to own the way he moves his body.

Jungwon, your favorite person in the world. Your ex boyfriend’s brother, who you simply couldn’t leave behind after the break up. Yeah, probably not an ideal situation you’re in right now but it’s still a situation that feels right.

Sure, hanging out at your ex boyfriend’s house was weird at first but all three of you just kind of got used to it after Jake realized there’s no getting rid of you for as long as he lives there with his brother. Exhausting? Yes. Annoying? So fucking annoying.

It’s not that Jake minds you being around. After all, he’s not the one who wanted to break up. You broke up with him. Imagine how he felt just four days after the break up, walking into his house and seeing you lounging on the couch as if he was still allowed to pounce on you. He couldn’t do that, of course. For one, because you’re not his girlfriend anymore, and secondly, because his bitch-ass little brother was always crowded up next to you on the couch. 

You guys weren’t that close he originally thought. At least throughout your relationship with him, Jungwon was never clinging to you like this. So, really, Jake doesn’t mind being able to still see you. What he minds is the fact that you’re here to see his little brother, and it’s a bit…

Well…

It doesn’t sit very well with him when it comes to the way you now interact. Like, really? You’re gonna break up with him over some shitty excuse of “we just aren’t on the same path in life” only to run and cling to his little brother? As if Jungwon knows what path he’s on either? Hell, the guy only just chose his major after a full semester at your college. 

Exhausting. That’s what the two of you are. And Jake tries his fucking hardest to not witness you when you’re over. 

That is, until it becomes far too difficult. Until that pit in his stomach bubbles up with envy so draining that he can’t help but barge into the room. 

“Like this?” Jake had heard his brother’s broken voice through the door that he should not have been listening through. 

Hearing Jungwon sound like that isn’t exactly new. After all, he always sounds embarrassing when a girl is around. Jake really would have just rolled his eyes and went back to his room if it weren’t for what he heard next.

“Does it feel good when I do this?” Jake heard this time, Jungwon’s voice coming out in more of a breathy moan. 

“Yeah, so good–” You responded with your own moan. 

“Ah–it’s so warm–”

And for a split second, Jake wondered if maybe you guys were doing massages or something. Trying to make sense of why the fuck you’re in there moaning alongside his brother. Surely you’re not fucking him. Jungwon is a virgin as far as Jake’s concerned and…if he’s really about to lose it to you, that’s beyond crossing a boundary. 

Both of you should know better. 

So, naturally, Jake doesn’t even knock. 

The door swings open with the force of a thousand suns as Jake stands there and connects the dots. Nope, no massages. Yep, that’s your legs spread around his brother. Oh, yeah. Okay. Wow. 

Jungwon is no longer a virgin it seems, considering his cock is clearly nestled inside of you. All the way. He saw the jerky movements of his hips just before the two of you snapped your heads to him. He saw the way you cling to Jungwon harder. 

And the three of you just stare at each other, you frozen with your piercing gaze on Jake, Jungwon’s cock plunged into you as deep as he can go, with little pants because he can still feel you clenching around him and he’s really, really trying not to moan right now. 

“Are you fucking joking?” Jake finally lets out, furrowing his brows and zeroing in on Jungwon. “You decided to lose it to her of all people?”

There’s silence for a long while as Jungwon tries not to moan out an answer, feeling both awkward and entirely aroused because you’re still so wet, you’re still holding onto him, you’re still clenching. 

“And you’re not even making her feel good?!” Jake continues as his gaze falls to you. 

It’s not that you look bored, or even that you were bored. It’s just, Jake knows how you are in bed. He knows you very well, and seeing you be more in control, guiding someone else is definitely not something he thought you were into. In fact, no matter how many times the two of you would fuck, you always acted like a fucking virgin. Like his cock hurt you every single time, like you couldn’t help but moan. You couldn’t help but babble incoherently. You couldn’t help but orgasm within the first five minutes.

It’s the fact that he never saw this side of you, and you’re giving it to his fucking brother while taking something away from him. 

“Jake–” You manage to get out, so turned on beyond belief that you barely recognize how awful you look in this situation. Then again, you’re no longer dating Jake. It’s not like you cling to Jungwon because you want him instead. 

Jungwon is just…really cute and needy. Jungwon just needs some love. Jungwon was just nervous about this girl he’s supposed to meet this weekend and wanted to get some experience in. 

Fortunately for you, and unfortunately for Jungwon, Jake could probably give less of a shit as to why you’re in here letting Jungwon fumble between your legs. If you’re gonna fuck anyone in this house, it’s gonna be him. You guys can fucking go outside otherwise. 

“Move.” Jake says, now making his way toward the bed and practically shoving Jungwon out of you. 

There’s a wet sound when he does that, Jungwon letting out both a pornographic and frustrated moan when he falls back. Jake spares no glance at him though, all he does is shove him further, all the way until he topples off of the bed. 

You don’t really care whose hands are on you though. While you wanted to be this person for Jungwon and while you feel bad that he barely got to even start, you really, really don’t mind the familiar grasp of Jake. With the way he puts his hands on your knees and spreads your legs wide. 

You blink up at him, seeing Jungwon peek at you from the edge of the bed as he keeps himself on the floor. Probably both intimated and embarrassed at what’s happening. 

“I can’t believe you.” Jake announces now, leaning his face in between your legs and inspecting how stretched Jungwon managed to get you. “I can’t believe you got this wet for him.”

You roll your eyes, clenching hard just so Jake can see that you’re still just as needy as you’ve always been. 

Jake sees it and squeezes his eyes shut with a frustrated sigh. Of course you’d do this. Of course you still want him, sexually, at least. And then he snaps around to look at Jungwon. 

“If you ever try to fuck her again, at least make it count.” 

Jungwon looks away and avoids eye contact. He knows Jake is pissed, not that he cares or anything. It’s not like he’s not allowed to be pissed off too. Jake really just walked into the room thirty seconds after he officially lost his virginity. Of course he’s not gonna be good at fucking yet.

And Just as Jake turns back to you, whipping his cock out and sliding his fingers down the length of it to stiffen up, Jungwon tries to get up and leave quietly. 

No, no, no. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” Jake asks through a seething breath, sliding into you with ease and a slight moan. “You’re going to sit right there and watch.”

Jungwon doesn’t know why he listens, but he does. He finds himself right back on the floor. His hands that were covering his cock slowly begin to palm when he keeps his eyes on you and the way you moan out for your ex boyfriend. 

He’s not happy right now, but you. You turn him on. He wishes so much that it isn’t Jake here doing this, that’s his brother, after all. Still, he watches.  And somehow, he learns.

[messylustt]

౨ৎ ‧˚

𝐞𝐥 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐨 (𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥) — 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠

miguel o’hara x fem!reader. 5.4k words.

fic masterlist previous part pt five next part

angst??; violence; speaking of injuries — damn y/n is in the wars; cute little worried, mad miguel; since I’m going from y/n’s perspective to miguel’s a few times it’s may seem a bit jumpy, hope that doesn’t annoy anyone — miguel gives you shocking news. and as you go to head home you end up in a different universe, meeting some spider kid, leaving miguel and the rest of them to worry and search for you.

You walk with purposeful steps. Passing by spider variants, who spare you confused glances at your almost pissed off expression. Though when one would meet your gaze you’d smile—genuinely, which made them think that a certain person was the target of your anger.

“Oi y/n— wow.” Hobie jumped down in front of you, observing your furrowed features. But yet again they would smooth out upon seeing a face you didn’t want to punch. Pavitr and Gwen were close, coming to stop beside Hobie.

“Hi.” You greet them.

“You look stressed as hell.” Hobie comments, making you forcibly chuckle.

“Not at all.” You quickly say, before veering to pass them.

“You alright, y/n?” Gwen asks.

“I appreciate the concern. I do.” You say, walking backwards. “But I’m in a bit of a rush. And annoyingly this can’t wait.”

“Careful!” Pavitr warns as you quickly skirt past a table your hip almost hit.

“Thank you!” You shout back as you rush towards a certain office that made the lines return to your forehead.

You push open the door, stalking towards the centre of the room. At the outburst Miguel looks down. He looks away knowingly, upon seeing you and your angry expression.

“Fired?!” You exclaim up at him. He doesn’t spare you a glance, continuing to tap and swipe at different screens. “I’m fired?!”

You hold up a scribbled note that said ‘You’re fired as of Tuesday’.

“You still have a day.” Miguel comments calmly.

You scoff in disbelief. “What the hell did I do?! …and can you come down here, it’s very hard yelling like this!”

Miguel sighs, but drops down in front of you. He looks bored. And that seems to piss you off more. You step closer. “You wrote me a note?” You’re still in disbelief. “You didn’t even add the reason.”

“Believe it or not that was purposeful.” Miguel monotonously says.

You narrow your eyes. “Why?” You try to lower your tone, taking deep breathes.

Miguel just tilts his head, observing your antics. You blink. “So, you’re not gonna tell me?”

He doesn’t say a thing, confirming so. You’re beyond annoyed and in all honesty what have you to lose? You’ve already lost your job, for a reason you’re dying to know and your adrenaline enduced veins seem to think that pressuring him is a smart idea.

You step closer, but realise that your “intimidating” gaze is doing nothing, his towering height making you feel like an ant. You dart your gaze around, stopping on a swivel chair, you snatch it, quickly standing on it, so that you’re somewhat of a millimetre taller than him.

“We made a deal.” You say, finally feeling a little more in control now that Miguel is looking up at you.

“And now its over.”

“That’s not how deal’s work.” You say.

“Oh.” Miguel hums. “That’s a shame.”

Your nose twitches as you hold back a snarl. Miguel is an infuriating man—it’s just that simple.

“I’m not leaving, not until you at least give me a reason.” You say, trying to appear threatening. But being in front of a man who looks it 24/7 is really dampening your confidence.

He continues to look up at you and your heaving chest, and face that’s tightened in annoyance. He sighs. “It’s better this way, y/l/n.”

“And why is that?” You try again to get the ‘reason’ out of him.

“You can go.” He turns, beginning to head back. You stare after him, mouth opening in disbelief at his complete dismissal.

You go to get off the chair, feeling your entire being deflating. But your foot seems to miss the step down as you begin to tumble forward. But before you can hit the ground a web is attaching to your hand, and yanking you into a chest.

Miguel’s breathing is displayed in that quick moving chest. One hand wrapped around your waist, while the other—that had shot the web—has ahold of your wrist.

Your eyes are wide at the fast movement of it all. “You want to know why you’re fired?” Miguel begins. “Because you’re accident prone. One trip and you could mess everything up.”

You meet his gaze. “That’s very assumptive.” You say. “You and I both know that I haven’t “fucked” anything up.”

“Yet.”

“Yet?” Your brows furrow. “You’re betting on a ‘yet’?” You step away from him, getting your wrist out of his hold. “You made a decision based on your own wrong assumptions.”

Miguel’s expression has finally changed, actually displaying an emotion—anger—but still an emotion. He grabs the bottom of your shirt, pulling you harshly back to him as his breath fans over your face.

“How do you know my “assumptions” are wrong? Huh?” He snarls.

You glare up at him. “How do you know they’re right?” His grip tightens around the material of your shirt, but you continue. “Right now, if you were to tell me that you hated my work ethic, or that I was genuinely shit at my job, I’d leave—maybe a bit upset—but I’d understand.”

Miguel’s eyes are darting everywhere they can.

“But you’re giving me nothing.” You’re blurting everything you can think to say. If not the job back, then you’re going to get your reason for it being gone. “Just say, you hate the way I work.”

You stare at him. “Please.” You’ve somewhat calmed down. Your face softening to one close to simple pleading.

Miguel gulps, his chest slowing but his heart beating on overdrive. You were so close, looking up at him with a genuine pleading look. You just wanted closure.

His hand hadn’t let up its grip on your clothes, part of him not wanting to let go.

“I thought you said you had to have a reason to fire me.” Your voice is back to your normal tone—one that always made Miguel feel comfortable, safe. Which is odd considering you wouldn’t be able to protect him or practically anyone here. Physically at least.

You sigh, realising that there’s no budging Miguel. It’s him, for crying out loud. You were stupid to think you could get anything out of him that he didn’t want you to know.

You reach your hand down, grabbing his wrist and pulling your shirt away. You back up, hands up in an almost surrender—saying ‘fine, I’ll go’.

Miguel doesn’t like the silent sentence for some reason, his expression morphing back to anger. He again swiftly shoots a web to attach to your stomach, yanking you forward again.

“Can you stop that?” You ask, once you’re directly in front of him again. “At this rate put a leash on me.” You mutter. You’d given up. And all you wanted to do was pack up and leave. Why was he dragging this out?

“Would that work?” He whispered. And now through your annoyed haze you noticed how close he was…again.

But the drop of his tone made your breath hitch, different from before. He leans closer, red eyes fully focused on you. “Would it?” He asks again.

“Would what?”

He tilts his head, licking his lips. “A leash.”

Your eyes widen, as you choke out your answer. “That was…a joke. I was kidding.”

“But would you stay out of trouble if you had something constricting you?”

Your mouth opens and closes. He had slowly been pulling you closer by the attached web, his claws dancing across the orange before they reached the material of your shirt again.

“Es eso todo lo que tengo que hacer, chaparrita?” (Is that all I have to do) He darkly whispered.

You focused on his words. You had wanted to understand Spanish before, but now you’re dying to know. And luckily, in your own time you had been studying—having stolen your phone back.

“No, O’hara.” You begin. “Todo lo que tienes que hacer es ser honesto.” (All you have to do is be honest.)

Miguel stares at you, brows furrowing for only a moment. He looks taken aback. And from his underlying impressed expression, you know your words had made sense.

“When did you learn that?”

“Why are you firing me?” You counter.

And for once, Miguel finally gives in, up to a peak with his emotions. “Because of the fucking attack!” He finally says it, or more so ‘exclaims’ it.

You pause. “The attack?”

He hisses in annoyance at himself. “I’m supposed to be helping people—the multiverse. That was the whole point of this.” He mutters out.

“I’m not following… How did I mess that up?” You ask, staring at him in confusion.

“You didn’t. Which is beyond annoying, because I’d much rather a reason where you were the problem.”

“That’s…very flattering.” You mutter, as he continues.

“But the reason why I’m firing you is because…” he clenched his jaw, closing his eyes for a moment, seeming annoyed to even think of saying it.

“Because you got…hurt.”

And of course it goes in one ear and out the other. Because in what universe does that make sense. You stare at him, blinking too many times.

“What?”

“I’m not saying it again.” He says, stepping away from you.

“No, no. What?”

Miguel is turned away and cursing at himself. Why did he admit that? He should have just said you were shit at your job.

You finally assess his words, maybe not the underlying meaning, but his general words at least. “I’ll be honest…” you begin. “I thought that was in the job description.”

Miguel turns. “What?”

“Getting hurt.” You say. “I mean maybe not that extreme considering I’m behind a desk, but I knew the risk.”

“You knew you might get hurt if you took this job?” He reiterates.

“Yeah.” You breathe. “But you’d understand. I mean you are spider-man.”

“Yeah…” he drifts off. “But you’re…”

“A weak human?” You ask.

He looks away, frowning. “I didn’t mean that.”

“It’s fine.” You say. “I can’t lie and say it isn’t the truth.”

“It’s not—“ he says extremely quickly before he extremely quickly follows with: “—entirely true. You’re also annoying.”

You raise your brows. “So, I’m an annoying, weak human who just got fired?” You slowly ask.

Miguel presses his lips together. “It’s bet—“

“Better this way.” You cut in. “Yeah, I heard you.” You sigh. “Thanks for telling me the reason.” Your tone has shifted to one Miguel really doesn’t like. You sound…disappointed…distant. And why wouldn’t you be? Of course Miguel expected this but for some reason it just didn’t settle right in his stomach.

But before he knows it you’re opening the exit door, giving him a small smile and a nod, saying: “Sorry for the…outburst.” Before you’re shutting the door and leaving.

;;

“Where is she?” Miguel is asking Peter, thankful for once that he didn’t bring Mayday.

Peter scratches the back of his head, pretending to look busy. Miguel begrudgingly turns to Hobie, raising a brow. Hobie looks him up and down before scoffing. “You’re the one who ‘fired’ her, remember mate?” He sounds annoyed.

Miguel swiftly shifts his gaze to Gwen. “She still has a day. Where is she?”

“She decided it was best to leave today.” Gwen says.

“How’d she get a wristband?” Miguel asks, narrowing his eyes. He slowly shifts his gaze back to Hobie, who is sitting, legs up on a table.

“Hobie.”

“Yes, boss?” Hobie asks, praying innocence.

“Why?” Miguel asks, gritting his teeth.

Hobie stands, walking up to him. “Why do you care? Ya clearly seem to think she’s an annoyin’, weak human.”

Miguel holds the bridge of his nose. “Did she tell everyone that?” He mutters out in question, more so to himself.

“No, she didn’t. I ‘appened to hear it.” Hobie says, making Miguel look back up.

“So she just left?” He asks, his uninterested expression cracking a fraction—only a fraction.

“That is what you wanted.” Pavitr chimes in, twisting one of his gold bands.

;;

Miguel breathes, heading back to his office. Once inside he taps his wristband, opening up a portal. He pauses. Why was he even going? You’re gone, home, safe. Just like he wanted. Why is he messing that up by seeing you?

But he’s already through the portal arriving outside your door. You lived alone so he didn’t have to worry about scaring your family. He knocks on your bedroom door, and waits. And waits. And waits.

Look, patience isn’t something Miguel is very good at, so he twists the handle, opening the door to your room. He narrows his eyes, seeing you not inside. Sure, you could have easily gone out, but as he scouted the room, he began to realise that you hadn’t been in here for a while. Dust had formed on your desk, while your bed stayed untouched and made.

“Lyla.” He calls, her appearing quickly by his shoulder. “Was y/n here?”

Lyla computes the room, scanning for footprints or any of your fresh DNA. “No. She hasn’t been here for a while.”

Miguel goes to turn back to his portal, when he steps on something. Looking down, he sees a bracelet by the very edge of the door. Picking it up, he asks Lyla again.

“Ah, she was here, recently. Only in the doorway, it seems.” She answers.

Miguel goes to pocket the bracelet but realises that he technically doesn’t have any, so he instead puts the bracelet around his wrist, walking back through the portal.

;;

“What?” Peter voices his surprise. “But she was just heading home. She’s not there? And hold up, why did you go—“

“Hobie what wristband did you give her?” Miguel interrupts, turning to Hobie. “One of your faulty ones?”

Hobie rolls his eyes, swinging his guitar strap around his body. “It was a normal one, a spare I found.”

“And you’re sure she’s not just out?” Gwen checks.

“No, I’m not, Gwen.” Miguel sarcastically states. “You really think I didn’t check?”

“Do you think she could have gone to another universe?” Pavitr asks.

“Why would she do that?” Peter asks, brows furrowed.

“Dunno, maybe she wanted to rebele.” Hobie comments. “Wouldn’t blame her.” He shoots this at Miguel, who narrows his eyes.

“I called you all here to find her.” Miguel says. “You seem to have been around her a lot. You’d have more of an idea then any other spiders.”

;;

While the spider-men and woman were all wondering where you had went, you were wondering the exact same thing.

You had been walking down the street, trying to face any form of familiarity. But nothing stands out. This wasn’t your home. This wasn’t your universe.

You keep touching your wrist in hopes to magically find the wristband there, but no, it’s still gone. Where? You wanted to know that too.

You watched as people chatted and ate, many at the city’s cafes and restaurants. It was growing darker and as you looked up you felt a single drop of water land on your cheek.

You manage to reach a bus shelter, taking a seat. Where the hell were you?

“Miles!” A man’s voice calls.

“I’ll be back, dad! I just…forgot something…at school!” Miles answers.

You shift your gaze from the falling sky to a cop and his assumable son, who is rushing down the street. You go to shift your gaze away again when you catch sight of something falling out of the kid’s bag. Narrowing your eyes you just catch what looks to be a spider-man mask, before Miles is quickly shoving it back in.

You then hear a ruckus some way down the street. A shop…being robbed. Then it clicked. This ‘Miles’ was running to the scene, because he was this universe’s spider-man.

You quickly stood, covering your head with your hands, preventing some of the rain from soaking your hair as you rushed to follow. Maybe this spider-man was apart of the spider society, and had a wristband. Whatever the outcome, you felt better that you had somewhat of a plan.

;;

When you reached the shop you chose to wait outside, knowing it not smart to just run into danger.

The fight is finished rather quickly, with a few broken windows and thrown food, but no one from the looks of it got hurt.

And as you began to follow Miles—having spotted him heading to an alleyway—you realise how creepy you would seem just following this kid who doesn’t know who the hell you are. But it’s too late to backtrack because he’s swiftly turning and shooting a web to attach your hand to the concrete wall.

You gasp in shock as the kid quickly runs up. “I’m sorry, I thought you were—“

“An evil dude, yeah don’t worry I started to think so too.” You chuckle, slowing your breathing. Your hand had smacked pretty hard against the wall, and as Miles cuts the web you realise that your hand is partially red and bruised.

“Sh— I am so sorry.” He said, spotting the slight injury too.

You wave him off. “That’s alright. I…uh needed to ask you something.”

Miles stands straighter, probably expecting you to point him in the direction of more danger. “You are the spider-man of this universe, right?”

Miles pauses. “Wait, you know—“ he shuffled closer, whispering. “You know about the other universes?”

You nod. “I was wondering if you had a wristband.”

“A wristband?” Miles’ confusion makes you deflate.

“So you don’t know about that…” you sigh, your plan dissolving away.

“Know about what?”

You smile. “That’s alright.”

You begin to step back out of the alleyway, placing your hands in your jacket pocket. “Nice job, by the way.” you gesture to the hung up robber.

“Thanks.” Miles shrugs, still looking thoughtful.

But as you near the street, you suddenly glitch, hitting against the wall, hissing in pain. Shit, or course. You were in a different universe…without a wristband.

Miles quickly reaches your side. “You’re not from here.” He mutters. He then loops his arm around your midriff, your body continuing to slightly glitch. “Jeez, I didn’t think that would hurt as much.” You mutter.

Miles brings you back into the alleyway, resting you against the wall. “What universe are you from?”

“Earth 1–“ you glitch. Then finally you stop, resting your head against the wall.

Miles kneels by you, still deep in thought. “Would you know a girl named Gwen Stacy?” He suddenly asks. Almost as if he had been waiting to ask someone this exact question.

You quickly meet his gaze—through the mask, of course. “You know Gwen?” You ask

“You know Gwen?” He repeats back.

“Yeah, she’s apart of the spider society.”

“The spider what?” Miles asks.

But you continue. “How do you know her? Wait.” You pause. “You’re Miles right?” You double check, not wanting to seem creepy and stalker-like.

“Yeah…” he drifts off.

“She spoke about you.” You smile. “A lot, actually.”

Miles decided on taking his mask off, either deciding on it being fine for you to see, or knowing that you must know what he looks like already. You can spot a faint blush on his cheeks at the mention of Gwen mentioning him.

“How did you get here?” He asks.

“It had to have been from the wristband.” You mutter. Before speaking louder for Miles. “There’s these wristbands that can transport you to different universes without all this glitchy mess.”

“Wow. Do you have one now?” He asks, looking to your wrist.

You shake your head. “Somehow I lost mine. And to be honest, I didn’t plan on coming here. I meant to go home.” You then get reminded of the fact that you got fired, and you mentally narrow your gaze at a non existent Miguel.

His reason still didn’t make sense to you. But you did get one. And you weren’t one to backtrack on your word, leaving like you had said.

“I’ve helped send a few spider…people back to their universes.” Miles begins. “But that was using something kingpin—this villain, created.”

You rest your head back against the concrete wall, the rain growing louder and louder, and heavier and heavier. “How are you gonna get home?” Miles asks.

You sigh. “I’m really not sure.”

;;

Miguel has gotten Lyla to try and retrace your steps through the different universes. But there’s a lot. So, even though it’s been a few hours she’s found nothing as of yet.

Miguel didn’t know how to feel about the two different options of your disappearance. You could have either gone on your own—chosen to, like Hobie had said. Why you would ever do that, Miguel would love to know. But would that make it his fault if something happened?

He knew you loved your job. And he had fired you, for selfish reasons that he covered up with, it being ‘in your best interest’. To Miguel it was, but you wouldn’t see it that way. He’s sure you don’t.

But then there’s the alternative that you had gotten taken. Miguel barely dove into that theory, his hands turning to fists so tight that he cut the skin of his palms through his suit, his claws tainted with his own blood. He almost felt bad for whoever had the terrible idea to take you.

If you thought what happened to those masked men in the office was bad, then you’d be horrified to see what he’d do to this supposed captor.

But right now it seemed to be worse—the not knowing. He didn’t know if you were happy, scared, living your best life, or…dead.

“Lyla!” He exclaimed turning to her and her tiny computers.

“No matter how many times you yell my name, it’s not gonna make me find her any quicker.” She sing songs.

He groans, going back to pacing. Then he hears the arrival of Gwen, Hobie, Peter and Pavitr. Turning, he doesn’t like the looks on their faces. “What is it?” He asks, crossing his arms.

Gwen looks down. “We found out that…she didn’t go voluntarily.”

There’s silence besides the almost ‘loud’ gaze of Miguel. “What was that?”

“There’s been talk through majority of the universes, about these…guys.” Peter begins.

“And when one showed us a left behind mask, it was the exact same as what those men that infiltrated HQ wore.”

“What do you mean by ‘didn’t go voluntarily’?” Miguel asks, stepping closer to them all. “How do you know that?”

“It’s more ov’ a guess.” Hobie says. “From what people were sayin’, those “guys” never let someone get away alive.”

“Y/n did.” Gwen adds, looking solemn.

“So, you lot came here, with one piece of information saying that she’s either gonna get killed or is already dead?” Miguel calmly asks.

But his ‘calm’ tone isn’t necessarily…calm. It’s more like the calm before the storm.

“It’s information that could help us.” Gwen tries to stay positive. “We can try and track these masked guys. Maybe there’s a base in a universe. That’s where she could be.”

“All I’m hearing is ‘could’ and ‘maybe’, Gwen.” Miguel says. “I’m gonna need something a little more definite than that.”

All the spider-people seem to notice the way Miguel’s expression shifted the moment the ‘masked men’ were brought up. He knows something they don’t. And that seems to irritate Hobie the most.

“Well, what do you ‘ave?” He asks Miguel. “We’ve at least found some’ing. What ‘ave you found?”

Miguel’s gaze is narrowed, his face solemn as he stares at Hobie. Hobie steps closer, his boots the second loudest thing in the room.

“Another thing,” Hobie adds. “While I’m talking…” He taps at his jeans to a beat only he can seem to hear. “I’ve never seen you act—I’m surprised to say—worried. Especially with y/n. I thought you hated her.”

“Mind your business.” Miguel turns, preparing to web up to the screens.

“My bad, boss.” Hobie backs up, a small smirk on his face.

“I thought you two were friends?” Why Miguel was suddenly having this conversation with Hobie he wasn’t sure, he just felt angry, because Hobie sounded so entitled to you. Like Miguel should stay “hating” you and that’s it.

Of course Hobie was just being his normal self, but with Miguel’s gaze glazed over with too many emotions he’s barely felt before, he sees red.

“So, why don’t you seem more worried about her?” Miguel continues.

Hobie chuckles. “You are worried.” He mutters to himself, shaking his head.

Miguel grits his teeth. “Ever heard of guilt?” He asks. “I don’t particularly want her to die. Having that on my back is gonna be extremely annoying.” Lies, lies, lies.

“Sure, Miguel.” Hobie hasn’t wiped his smirk off yet, and Miguel’s temper is rising.

“Alright, this is not helping.” Gwen quickly chimes in. “Y/n’s helped us, and we’re gonna help her…let’s just leave it at that.”

Miguel heard her. But all he can seem to focus on is Hobie’s smug face, as if he knows something no one else does. Something not even Miguel has really admitted to yet.

;;

You and Miles have talked, about a lot of different things actually. You had originally been trying to come up with a plan to get you home, but it soon evolved into telling each other’s life stories.

“Please tell me that is not how Gwen got her hair like that?” You’re laughing.

“I hadn’t known what to do.” Miles groans, slightly embarrassed at the memory of his first day as spider-man. His hand—being extremely sticky—not leaving Gwen’s hair.

“Wait.” Miles suddenly stands, gazing around. “Somethings wrong.”

You quickly join him, darting your gaze around the alleyway. The rain had ceased, so the sound of heavy footsteps were growing much clearer.

You stiffen, as you carefully follow Miles to edge of the alleyway, right before you walk onto the street. But that’s when your heart stops.

A small group of masked men stand, much more intimidating in the clearer light—the rush of the explosion and fear before having clouded your vision. What were they doing here?

“You were supposed to watch her!” One is exclaiming to another. “Now she’s run off somewhere. Did you at least take her wristband?”

Your eyes widen. They’re the reason you’re here? You press further into the wall, listening hard. Why? You desperately wanted that answer.

“Of course I took—“ but he stops, quickly snapping his head in the direction of you and Miles. You quickly hit back against the concrete, Miles doing the same as both your chests heave.

Miles begins to pull down his mask, preparing to face them. But you grab his arm. It wasn’t a coincidence that these same men infiltrated HQ and are now here, assumably having sent you here as well. Something didn’t feel right, and something seemed to tell you that they upgraded in some way since their last attack.

These guy’s suits are bigger, more armoured, with neater woven green stitching. This was obviously some sort of ‘crew’. Most crews are based on a cause. Like the spider society, for example. They’re there to protect the multiverse from inter-dimensional anomalies.

What are these guys fighting for? Could they possibly be fighting against something?

You had too many unanswered questions to let this kid get involved. “Just hold on.” You say to Miles, staying pressed to the cold wall. He pauses, shifting his gaze who you, in question.

“I’ve seen them before.” You begin. “I think they might be the reason I’m here…”

“Then we should talk to them. Capture them and get them to talk.” Miles eagerly says.

You chuckles. “I appreciate that. But I don’t think it’s wise. Not with them.”

Miles goes to say more, when the sound of footsteps near. You immediately pull Miles farther out of view. Then Miles feels it. Instead of the ‘tingle’ he gets when danger is near, it’s more like a foreboding that travels though his entire being. And now he can understand your cautiousness, because for the first time in a while he feels genuinely scared—powerless.

The only thing you can think to do is begin to head down the alleyway, picking up speed. Then you’re both running. “Hey! I think I found her!” A voice shouts, and that’s when you run. The type of run that makes you feel lightheaded, and sick in your stomach.

Miles grabs you, web slinging across a building. “I should be fighting them!” He exclaims through the wind. “Why am I running away!?”

“It’s probably a survival instinct!” You exclaim, as he continues to swing. “Which is concerning since your spider-man.” You mutter this more to yourself. If spider-man’s first instinct was to run then what could this mean for the rest of society?

Then suddenly Miles is getting yanked back, his web snapping, resulting in you both falling to the hard ground. You hit the concrete with a harsh slam, making your eyes blur and your ankle scream.

“Shit.” You mutter. You’re praying it’s not twisted. Please don’t be sprained—you chant in your head, as you scramble to your feet, spotting a nearing masked man, claws out and ready.

You couldn’t see Miles, but to be fair you couldn’t see much. So you ran, or more painfully hobbled away. You had to put pressure on your ankle so that you would move. The man is nearing, his heavy breathing sounding louder than it should be.

But then you feel a hand wrap around your waist, pulling you somewhere dark and desolate. You go to scream, eyes wide, when a hand gets placed over your mouth, quieting any forming sounds that were about to fall.

You can’t see who it is, your blurry gaze and the dark atmosphere making it difficult. You squint, only knowing that someone is pushing you up against a wall, one hand wrapped around your waist, as the other keeps you quiet.

Then you feel a breath by your ear. “Don’t move.” He breathes. And finally the slight accent and familiar tone makes your entire body slump.

Miguel.

You never thought you’d feel so relieved to know it’s him, but once he had spoken, Miguel could feel your entire body relax, nearly sliding to the floor, the pressure you were placing on your injured ankle now faltering.

Miguel keeps you upright, tightening his grip on your waist, as he keeps his mouth by your ear. “Would now be a bad time to ask why you left a day early?”

And you actually laugh, half heartedly and mixed in with a groan of pain, but still a laugh nonetheless.

Then Miguel is moving his hand to hold your chin, as he tries to focus your gaze. “Can you see?”

Your eyes had begun to droop, the exhaustion gradually catching up to you. But then you grab Miguel’s arm tightly. “Miles.” You say, remembering the kid.

“Miles?” Miguel questions.

“The kid. I was with a kid. Another spider-man. Is he okay?” You rush this out, forcing Miguel to place his hand back over your mouth.

“Shh. You’ll get us caught.” He whispers.

You protest, needing an answer, because you could feel yourself slipping from consciousness.

“He’ll be fine. Gwen is with him.” Miguel consoles, seeing your stress. Your shoulders slump in relief, and finally the exhaustion catches up, grabbing a hold of you, as your eyes begin to flutter.

“Wow, wow.” Miguel mutters, catching your dropping body. “Don’t close your eyes.” He all but demands, but it’s too late. Your eyes roll closed, as darkness gives you a hug.

Miguel slips to the ground with you, holding the back of your head from hitting back. He prays that it’s just exhaustion, and nothing more…permanent.

His chest is heaving, his eyes trained on you, while his ears stayed focused, in case the sound of heavy boots broke the city noise.

But he hears nothing of concern, his finger—at first without permission—dragging along your jaw.

Your lips were slightly parted, your body so limp in his hold. “I’m sorry.” He mutters quietly, his dragging finger drifting up to your face, to brush a stray hair, still slightly damp from the rain.

His finger pauses by your lips, not quite touching, just hovering. He’d been in denial. Big denial. And maybe you wouldn’t feel the same, maybe you hated him. But right now Miguel couldn’t find it in himself to care, all the loud voices in his head zoning out to one single voice saying ‘I like her’ … ‘I like her a lot’.

sorry, this one kinda goes everywhere. i needed to add my guy miles <3 i don’t know if I like this one *crying* it feels too random. I’ll hopefully get back on track next chapter

part six is on its way! — thanks so much for all your guys support on this series, you guys are truly incredible

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[astermath]

hiya! i’m a really big fan of your stranger things work and I was wondering, if youre comfortable of course, a steve x reader period imagine where reader tried to hide their period from Steve, but he finds out and is super fluffy and sweet about it? thank you!

HAHAH wow i have let this ask stew in my inbox since last year thats CRAZY im so sorry my dear,, i was going through old asks and i rlly like this prompt actually so here u go, i hope u enjoy!!!!

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

tags: established relationship, obv mentions of periods / menstruation, reader is referred to as female, steve being dense at first lol, regular sized font below!

wc: 1.4K

notes: while the reader in this fic is female, i am well aware not everyone who has a period is a girl, and not everyone who's a girl has a period!

Steve is one attentive boyfriend.

It’s the early stages of your relationship, the golden era, the honeymoon phase. And while you’re a still a bit nervous about it all, you couldn’t be happier, because he does it all right.

He knows your favourite snacks, what music you like, what makes you laugh, what makes you cry. He’s starting to figure out your ins and outs, and it’s almost crazy how quickly he’s catching on. You have no reason to feel judged by him at any point, he truly is comfort poured into the shape of a person.

So then why are you staring at your phone right now, struggling to dial his number and just tell him why you can’t make it to your date?

It’s not usually this bad, at least it hadn’t been for a while, so why now, of all moments, must you be forsaken to be terrorised by your period?

You bite your lip, laying flat onto your bed, hand over your lower stomach. It's right where the pain is just gnawing at you, just like the guilt is. But you know you’d feel even guiltier if you just stood him up, he doesn’t deserve that. You sit up, a tad slowly to save yourself from another cramp, and swallow your nerves for now.

“I’ll just… Tell him I’m sick. Yeah… Yeah I can do that.” You think to yourself.

The combination of his number had started to feel natural to your fingers now, unlike how anxiously you pressed the buttons the first time, triple checking before finally pressing call. You're triple checking again now, more so because you're not sure you can handle hearing the defeat in his voice when you tell him you can't make it.

The phone barely gets a moment to ring before he picks it up, and his all too familiar sweet voice comes through the device.

"Hey babe, everything okay over there?"

You pause a moment before replying. "How did you know it was me calling?"

"Lover's intuition." He chuckles, and it makes your heart flutter. It's not fair how easy it is for him to do that to you, but you enjoy it nonetheless. "So, what's going on?"

"I, uh..." God, getting the words out is like pulling teeth. But you'd rather die than let him think you just got cold feet about your movie date. "I'm really not feeling too well right now, Steve... I'm-- I'm so sorry, I'm gonna have to cancel for tonight." Your eyes are welling up with tears before he even gets a chance to reply, just imagining his pretty face losing its bright expression when hearing your unfortunate news.

"Oh," damnit, he does sound sad, "that's okay, uhm... Is there anything I can do? What kinda sick is it?"

Shit, he's gonna make you say it, isn't he? You know Steve is a mature guy, he knows about periods, knows how they work, but you've been told to suck it up and get on with it before... A part of you is still disappointed that you just can't.

"U-Uhm... It's more like, a stomach thing, I guess?" It's the best way you can put it for now, hoping it'll put his worries to rest.

"Okay, I see..." You can nearly hear him thinking, the subtle noise of bags being moved and a fridge being opened coming through the phone. "Uh, how aboouuut... I come over to yours, and we just watch a movie at home? I still got a couple of tapes we haven't gotten to, and I can bring some light snacks that won't upset your stomach too much."

The thought of Steve caring for you while you're sick sends a warm feeling through your entire body. God, how does he just keep getting better? But you can't lie to him, right? It's not like you're really sick, unless you count the curse of menstruation as a symptom.

Before you get a chance to explain, he's talking again, and by the ruckus in the background you can only guess he's rushing to grab all his stuff. "I'll be heading out in a bit, I'll stop by the corner store too, stay put for me alright? See ya in a bit!"

You're sure he didn't realize he wasn't letting you talk, but frankly, you probably couldn't even come up with a response on time anyways. Right now, you just have to worry about looking somewhat presentable, and maybe figure out a way to tell him you're not actually sick.

By the time you've brushed your hair and brushed some mascara onto your lashes, you're already hearing the doorbell. You just manage to pull a fresh shirt over your head, before stumbling down the stairs and stopping in front of the door. With a deep, loaded, sigh you open it, to reveal your boyfriend.

Hair messed up, plastic bag in hand, jacket haphazardly thrown on. He clearly rushed to be here, still panting a little, but in your eyes, he's the image of your guardian angel, your saviour in need.

Before either of you know it, you're crying again, your freshly applied mascara now leaving thin black streaks over your cheeks. Your hands go up to cover your face, embarrassed, not even sure why you're sobbing all of a sudden. The feelings just hit you like a freight train, rocking you before you even have a time to rationalize.

Steve's expression falters, the bag he had in hand dropping to the floor in an instant, stepping in closer so he can carefully wrap his arms around you and pull you to his chest. Not too tight, he doesn't want to startle you. He's a bit distraught; he's really only seen you cry at a sad movie scene before, so he's a bit unsure as to what's caught you to be so upset right now.

"I-I'm sorry..." you manage to mutter through your incoherent sobs and sniffs, effectively ruining the front of his shirt in the process.

"Hey, hey..." His big hands go up to your face, gently cupping your wettened cheeks as he looks into your teary eyes. Hell, the image of you is almost enough to make him break too. "What're you sorry for? You can't help it that you're sick, right?"

The reminder of your lie makes you want to break eye contact in shame, but it's hard to force yourself to lose sight of that soft, caring gaze of his.

"I," sniff, "I lied, I'm so sorry Steve, I-- I'm not sick, I just... I have..."

He watches you expectedly, not upset, just curious. You'd surely have your reasons if whatever caused you to cancel is making you this upset.

"I'm... I'm just on my period and it-- it hurts really bad, it's not even usually this bad, and I felt like I was overreacting and I feel so bad and--" Your ramble gets cut short by his chuckle, the same one that nearly caused you to melt over the phone earlier.

"W-Wha... Why are you laughing?" You're not sure if you should be happy or worried, you're already experiencing so much at once, it's hard to pick one emotion to feel.

"Nothing, it's just, well," he picks up the bag he dropped, opening it slightly to show the bars of chocolate, candy and your favorite chips inside. "I had a feeling."

The sight of it makes you snap out of your state of distress, and you can’t help but crack a smile through your tears. “Seriously? How?”

He shrugs, a sheepish smile adorning his face. “I told you, lover’s intuition.” He pulls you back to him and kisses your head. “There’s another bag in the car with chicken soup in case I was wrong.”

You both laugh, just hugging on your doorstep for a moment. You have to let it sink in, that maybe Steve just is that sweet and considerate of a guy.

“D’you wanna go inside, or does standing outside help with cramps?” He pulls back a little, and you fight the urge to poke him in the ribs for his sarcasm. You love it either way.

“Yeah, let’s go inside. We can watch When Harry Met Sally and I can cry my eyes out again. Sound good?”

“Sounds perfect.”

-

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[sunderwight]

Much as I love the idea of PIDW being rife with terrible porn tropes and interesting (if contrived) erotic writing conventions, all actual evidence in canon would seem to indicate that apart from some sex pollen and "uh oh, the protagonist has gone into a fugue state, whatever shall calm him down?" type stuff, it was fairly vanilla.

Like, that's part of both Shen Yuan and Airplane's frustration with it, I think. It's full of sex and it's not even sex either of them enjoy the concept of. Airplane was fully just trying to pander to an audience he felt he knew and could manipulate, but not one either he nor his ultra mega hate reader were actually part of.

Not that they understood that themselves at the time.

I mean I know fandom likes to make Airplane less closeted than Shen Yuan (for a lot of reasons), which I support, but I feel like in canon at least... he didn't cotton on to Luo Binghe's change in interests at first either. It wasn't until he was watching his protagonist obsess over resurrecting Shen Qingqiu at any cost that the light started to dawn. For Shang Qinghua, also, many more years have passed since he was back in their original world. He's had more time to reconcile himself to certain ideas.

What glimpses we get of the person he was before he died, was reborn, and lived a whole other life well into adulthood, would seem to indicate that he probably wasn't much better than Shen Yuan back when he was writing.

I mean he probably was still BETTER (the bar is on the floor), like I bet he could have a fantasy featuring Mobei Jun without having an existential crisis or pretending it didn't happen, but he would have probably been like "wow I guess I've been writing so much m/f porn that I can't even enjoy it anymore and my brain had to come up with something else, anyway Mobei would make a hot chick tho, I'm gonna write one of his cousins as Binghe's next wife" and gotten on with things.

Basically I guess what I'm driving at is that it would be funny if SQQ and SQH figured they had a solid handle on the kinds of sex pollen-y porn tropes to expect from the world (mostly just the occasional fuck-or-die that missionary can cure), only for the rug to get ripped out from under them because the system incorporated a bunch of stuff from Airplane's subconscious to fill out the gaps. Not even his notes. His daydreams and fantasies.

SQQ: what the hell?! PIDW didn't even have werewolves or tentacle porn monsters!

SQH, suddenly reminded of some very specific fap sessions: right?! this is definitely weird and in no way my fault! it must be because of the genre switch!

SQQ: *suspicious*

SQH: which is your fault! you made the protagonist gay! in fact it's probably your fault that I'm gay too now!

SQQ: bullshit. what did you do. was this in a draft?!

SQH: *sweating* I can say with absolute confidence that it was not! I never wrote anything like this!

SQQ: *having a crisis now because maybe he DID accidentally cause the monsterfucker stuff and he desperately doesn't want anyone to realize that he's actually into it*

SQH: *continuing to sweat because the world is consistently manifesting content from his personal spank bank and if cucumber ever figures that out he's a dead man*

[bloodibambiidoll]

Pour Some Sugar On Me

(Older!Alpha Eddie x Omega!Reader)

Summary: It’s been four months since you’ve been mated to Eddie in secret. When he takes you to “Lovers Lake” for a picnic and tells you he’s never hooked up there, it’s only right that you remedy that. WK: 1.8K

Warnings: General Omegaverse behaviors, scenting, knotting, biting, unprotected sex, outside sex, pet names, a whole lotta gushy mushy fluff. No physical descriptions of reader besides her outfit but she does have the nickname “sugar” 18+MNDI!

A/N: SURPISEEE SHAWTY!! I know it’s been a minute since I posted a ST fic but I randomly got the spark to write this today! This is set in the middle of Everlasting Sweeheart before Sugar’s dad finds out about them. Older!Eddie edit is by @eddiemunsons-missingnipple.

You’ve been seeing Eddie in secret for about four months now and it couldn’t be more perfect. Aside from the fact that it was a secret. It was hard, having to hide your mate from everyone in your life. The only person you’ve told is your childhood best friend but she lives states away. A few of your employees asked about your mark and you brushed them off, not wanting to go into details. You haven’t seen your dad since that day at the shop, the day you realized that Eddie worked for him. You missed him, and you hate sneaking around behind his back. Even though it was your idea to wait, you were ready to tell him. But your mate? He wasn’t quite there yet. So you decided not to push him for now and to just enjoy your little bubble.

Today Eddie has something “special” planned for the two of you but refuses to tell you where you’re going. He does this with every date, plans something elaborate or something as simple as a movie night at home. But it was always romantic. He put a lot of thought into these dates and it made sneaking around infinitely easier on you. On those days, it feels everything and everyone but you and Eddie cease to exist.

“Alright sugar pie, you ready?” Eddie yells down the hall, you made him leave the room so you could get ready because you had a little surprise of your own. He didn’t tell you where you were going, but he at least told you that you were riding on his bike and not in one of his cars. So you’d know what to wear. And it just so happened you had the perfect outfit.

Thus far he's only seen your softer side, your little mini dresses and Mary Jane’s with ribbons tied in your hair. Which was great for when you worked at the bakery, comfy shoes, easy movement, kept your hair out of your face. But there’s a whole other side to you he has yet to discover. You were raised by a biker, after all. You look at yourself in the mirror and smirk. You had even styled your hair differently and your make up was darker than your everyday look. Eddie was going to shit.

“Yeah baby, I’m ready.” You exit the room and Eddie’s jaw literally drops and his keys that were dangling from his fingers fall to the ground.

“Sugar… you look…” his eyes roam your figure, drinking in every inch, every detail. The glossy leather of your thigh high platform boots. The little black ripped jean shorts. The tiny little white tank top. And last but not least? You’re wearing a fucking leather battle jacket. “Wow. You look so fucking sexy. Did you get new clothes?”

“Nah. This is stuff I’ve had forever. I actually started this jacket back in highschool and have gradually added to or changed it. I feel like you’re forgetting who my dad is, Eddie bear. Have you ever looked in my closet? There’s more to me than you think.” You approach him, running your cherry red fingernail along his jaw, causing him to shiver under your touch.

“You’re telling me my little sugar girl has a bad ass rocker side I don’t even know about?” He grips your hips in his large ringed hands, pulling your body taunt against his.

“Guess you’ll just have to stick around and find out.” You pull back, shooting him a wink. “You ready to go or are you gonna stand here and ogle me all night?”

“Oh baby, I’m gonna ogle you alright… but, I’m ready to go.” He gives your butt a little pat before leaning down to pick up his keys. “Come on, get your sexy ass out the door.”

“Okay, okay, I’m going. You don’t have to be pushy.” You tease, giggling as you connect his lips to yours.

Eddie drove his bike to the edge of town, turning down a dirt road and stopping when he reached the lake he apparently nicknamed “lovers lake”. He had a whole picnic packed tightly in the seat compartment of his motorcycle with all your favorite foods and treats. He even brought little candles and wine.

“This is nice Eddie, it’s really pretty here.” Your head is resting on his shoulder and you smile up at him sweetly.

“Yeah? I’m glad baby. Used to come out here in highschool in my van. Open up the back and just smoke and think, enjoy the silence. Figured it would be nice.” He smooths a hand over your hair before cupping your cheek, placing a tender kiss on your forehead.

“All by yourself? You didn’t bring any girls out here? That’s why they call it lovers lake, right?” You wiggle your eyebrows at him playfully.

“Ha! No, definitely didn’t bring any girls out here. Teenage Eddie wasn’t very popular with the ladies.”

“Hmm… that’s too bad, seems like a nice place to get your guts rearranged by a hot metal head, if you ask me.” You rest a hand on his chest, looking up at him with hooded eyes.

That’s how you ended up where you are now, bent over Eddie’s bike, your shorts discarded on the ground somewhere, panties pushed to the side and his tongue buried as deep inside you as possible. He insisted you keep the boots and the jacket on because it was “really doing it for him”.

“Fuck baby, you always taste so sweet.” Eddie mumbles against your core, the vibrations causing you to moan out. His skilled tongue pushes you closer to the edge with each passing second. He leans down to take your clit between his lips as his thick digits circle your entrance. He starts to thrust his fingers in and out of you, curling them just right so they brush against your sweet spot with each stroke. It has you seeing stars, your pussy clenching so tightly around his fingers he feels like they’re going to get pushed out.

“Oh my god! Fuck, Eddie! Feels so fucking good, you always make me cum so good. Want your cock.”

“Don’t worry sugar, I’m not fucking done with you yet.” You hear the sound of his belt, followed by his zipper. He pushes his pants down just enough for his cock to spring free, taking it in his hand and running it through your slick folds. “How bad do you want it?”

“So bad alpha, want your knot.” You whimper as you push back against him. He pushes into you in one breath taking thrust.

“Ah fuck, you’re always so god damn tight.” Eddie pushes his hips flush against yours, his tip brushing against your sweet spot. His hands grip onto your ass, the cool night air making his rings cold against your skin. He squeezes the flesh of your cheeks while he starts to rock into you slow and deep, teasing you.

“Eddie, faster, please, go faster.” You bounce back against him, your ass jiggling deliciously in his tattooed hands.

“Yeah? My pretty girl wants it faster?” He pulls almost all the way out before slamming back inside you, the sound of his hips clapping against your ass echoing through the trees. He starts to fuck into you hard and fast, your upper half resting against the plush bike seat and the tips of your boot clad feet are the only thing touching the ground.

“Mmm alpha, I need your cum. Need your knot. You make me feel so fucking full.”

Eddie leans forward, his chest pressing against your back, making his cock thrust even deeper inside you. One of his hands snakes around you to rub your clit while he brings his lips to your neck, leaving sloppy wet kisses along the expanse of your throat. He shoves his nose into your scent gland and inhales, your sugary sweet scent sending his eyes rolling into the back of his head.

“You smell so fucking good omega. My omega. My sweet girl.” He nips at the skin of your neck before biting down, latching his teeth to your skin. It’s all too much. It all feels too good. The speed of the circles on your clit increases and that’s all it takes to send you tumbling over the edge.

“Ohmygod! Eddieeee, mmm fuck.” He fucks you through it before leaning up off of you to chase his own high.

“This pussy’s so fucking good. Tastes so sweet. Sucks me in so good. So tight. Fucking made for me.” His eyes don’t know where to settle, his thick cock disappearing into your creamy walls over and over again. The way your back is curved from how you’re bent over his bike. The way those fucking boots hug the top of your thighs.

“Give your cum alpha, fuck a pup into me.”

“Oh god.” His hips slap hard against yours a few more times before he’s pushing them flush against your ass, filling you with ropes of his cum. His knot starts to swell inside you and he goes to pull out so you aren’t stuck in this awkward position until it goes down but you just hook your leg around his, keeping him in place.

“No, I want your knot, Eddie. I’ll stay like this all night just to have it.”

“Jesus Christ.” You let out a little whimper that turns into a loud moan as his knot pops inside you. The feeling sending you into another mind blowing orgasm. Eddie leans his chest down against you again so he can leave loving little pecks against your cheek and rub his nose against your throat.

“That was so fucking hot.” You giggle, reaching behind you to tangle your fingers in his hair.

“Yeah, it was, but now we’re stuck like this. So I’m gonna need you to stop laughing or we are going to be stuck here all night.” Eddie chuckles as he leans into your touch.

“Just fall back on your ass, it’ll be fine.”

He leans up, gripping your hips as he lets his ass fall back onto the ground. He lands with you on top of his lap with a gentle thud.

“Guess this isn’t so bad.” Eddie cups your cheek, turning your head to the side so he can connect your lips in a passionate kiss. No matter how many times he kisses you like this you think it’ll still make a bomb filled with butterflies go off in your stomach.

“So… how was your first lovers lake hookup?”

“World altering. Wouldn’t have wanted it to be with anyone else. I love you, sugar.”

“I love you too Eddie, so much.” You giggle fondly, taking his face in your hand.

“You’ve seriously gotta stop with that cute ass giggling or I’m just gonna have to fuck you again.”

“Maybe that’s what I want?” You raise a challenging eyebrow at him, a smirk spread across your lips.

“Ohhh you’re in for it now.” He grabs your hips, manhandling you onto your hands and knees with his knot still inside you. “I can stay here all night.”

Taglist: @eddiesxangel @bimbobaggins69 @fairymunson @artistwhodoesntpost @witchyhippysstuff @djoseph-quinn @freak-of-hawkins

[anystalker707]

a sweet reminder

Pairing: Luke Skywalker x [gender-neutral] Reader Summary: Spending a nice time with Luke after he's done working at the farm, and of course he's awfully sweet. Tags: clingy luke / he really wants to take care of you / lots of kisses

MASTER LIST

          Despite the usual high temperatures, the day felt exceptionally hot—the suns seemed to be taking out personal anger on Luke, making each step towards his home feel like torture, and he already knew he’d need some cream later tonight to deal with burning in the areas where the sunlight chastened his tanned skin. He furrowed his eyebrows, patting his clothes to get rid of the sand accumulated between the folds.

The droids wouldn’t do everything, so Luke still needed to carry those heavy buckets of water back home to refill the sprinklers. He tried to balance between no water spilled and the intense pain in his fingers to let buckets down on the ground as slowly as he could, and the pain lingered uncomfortably around his knuckles.

“Fuck,” Luke breathed as he opened and closed his hand a few times until the stiffness went away, or at least most of it. He sighed as he placed his hands on his hips, looking down, letting the breeze refresh the back of his neck before he moved to finish his task. He would be free for the last of the day, hopefully.

Luke’s thoughts were fuzzy already after so many hours under the suns, but he had done that enough times to trust himself on autopilot. He could name a handful of things—more, actually—he would rather be doing right now.

A long breath escaped his lips once he was done, and he tried his best to ignore the tingling in the back of his mind that told him it was only a matter of time before his uncle told him to do something else. He took a deep breath as he walked over to the kitchen, his body instinctively freezing when he heard his name being called, but hey, it wasn’t Uncle Owen.

“Luke,” the voice called again, and he stepped out to see you coming down the edge. A smile tugged on your lips when you finally saw him, sighing. “Wow, you look like you’ve been… smuggled by Jawas.”

“Oh,” Luke chuckled, shaking his head. “Just slaving away as usual,” he breathed, glancing behind him, but no one from his family was around. He wiped the sweat away from his brow with his forearm, and he shook his head again so that his strands would fall back into place.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, just feeling a little too hot and cranky.” Luke scrunched his nose a little. Today’s weather seemed harsher than usual, and opposite to his wishes to stay home upgrading his ship, he had to work at the farm for longer than normal today.

You raised your eyebrows, nodding faintly. “I was gonna ask you to come grab a drink with me, but we don’t need to go anywhere if you don’t want to.”

Luke’s eyes followed your hand reaching out to brush his hair back into place, and he made sure to stand still while you did so. “Doesn’t sound bad at all,” he said. “Maybe we can have a couple of glasses of blue milk while we hang out in the garage. I was gonna tinker around with my stuff anyway.” He grabbed your hand, walking by the kitchen with you to grab the promised drink before you two could go sit on the couch in the garage. He always sat close, pressed to your side. “Ugh, what a day, I swear. Anything interesting happened while I was slaving away?”

“Stop being so dramatic,” you scoffed with an endearing smile. You enjoyed the refreshing sensation of the blue milk going down your throat, and the garage felt a lot nicer than being cooked under the suns outside. On the other hand, maybe it’d be colder than usual tonight. “And no, nothing interesting. I did hit my head on the edge of a ship while fixing it, though. I’m not sure if that’s interesting,” you chuckled, bringing a hand up to the sore spot on top of your head out of instinct.

Blue eyes observed you over the rim of the glass before Luke lowered it, licking his lips as his eyes roamed over you with clear concern, a crease forming between his eyebrows. A small sound came from him as he put his glass away. “Oh no, are you alright? Let me take a look.” He adjusted his position and placed your glass on the table as well, reaching out to touch your head. His fingertips gently traced the area where you’d hit with a delicate and soft touch. “Does this hurt?” He applied a little pressure.

“Ow,” you hissed at the unexpected pain, though it wasn’t too bad. You’d forget it hurt if nothing touched the area you’d hit. “Only a little sore.” 

“I don’t feel any bumps or swelling, but I think we should keep an eye on it, anyway,” Luke exhaled. “But that’s a relief. We don’t want you losing any more brain cells.” He chuckled and kissed the top of your head carefully, his hand descending to cup your cheek for a brief moment. Concern was evident in his eyes as they met yours, making your heart flutter in your chest. “I have a bacta spray. It should help. Do you want me to get it?”

You placed your hand on top of his to squeeze it reassuringly, letting it fall to your lap. “I’m fine, I swear. Maybe we should be more worried about your brain cells cooking in this heat, yeah?” You chuckled, running your thumb over Luke’s knuckles when his eyes widened, and you were sure his blushing would be apparent if it weren’t for his sun-kissed skin.

“H-Hey, my brain is just fine, thank you very much!” Luke’s attempt to sound indignant failed miserably with his embarrassment, and he bit his lip, glancing away. “It’s not like I’m hallucinating or anything.” His eyes softened when they met yours again, and he lifted his free hand, his fingertips grazing your cheek gently—he raised his eyebrows a little when you leaned into his touch. “Are you sure you’re okay?” He leaned in closer. “Maybe I should take another look, just to be safe.”

Part of you regretted telling Luke about the bump when concern laced his gaze once more—you thought he’d be more used to it, since you and him were always with a bruise or another from working on those ships or machines the whole time.

“It’s okay,” you insisted, catching his hand between yours before he could reach for your head again. “Trust me, Luke.” You squeezed his hand gently.

Luke exhaled. “Okay. If you’re sure.” He looked down at your joined hands before he leaned in, his nose brushing against yours. “But if it gets worse, you’ll tell me, right?” His wide, earnest eyes looked into yours, pleading, before he pressed his forehead to yours, both out of habit and out of worry. Clingy, as always. “I could kiss it better.” His breath fanned over your face. “If you want me to, I mean.” As if he hadn’t already.

“You’re such a sweetheart,” you mumbled, your eyelids instinctively hiding half of your irises when the distance between you diminished. “Why are you always doing this? Pressing your forehead to mine. Trying to read my thoughts?” You chuckled, and he couldn’t help but do the same.

“Oh, I don’t know.” Luke furrowed his eyebrows lightly. “It feels… nice. Comforting, I guess.” He bit his lip, his hand coming up to rest on your shoulder, near the base of your neck. “Don’t act like I’m being clingy.”

“Yeah, feels nice, I enjoy it too… But you’re very clingy all the time, in fact,” you whispered with a small smile, placing a hand on his waist instead, adjusting your position so that you could be closer to each other.

A soft scoff escaped his lips. “You’re the one who wouldn’t stop kissing me the last time,” he pointed out with a shy smile, and he quickly pulled one of your legs to hook over his. “Not that I’m complaining,” he mumbled in a quieter, embarrassed voice, but he didn’t move away. The closeness was exciting and terrifying all at the same time. “I really like it when you do that.”

You raised your eyebrows, feigning cluelessness, despite how your heart fluttered in your chest. “Me? I never even kissed you. Let alone kiss you nonstop.” You clicked your tongue.

Luke pulled away suddenly, making your head fall forward a little, and looked at you with a wide grin and disbelief. “What? But you did! Here in the garage, when we were working on the speeder.” He paused. “Trying to.”

“Did I?” You raised your eyebrows. “I don’t remember it, baby.”

His heart pounded in his chest, and his cheeks burned, not just because of being under the sunlight for hours before. With a dramatically heavy sigh, he leaned in again. “Maybe you should kiss me again, love.” He glanced at your lips. “Just to remind you.”

“Oh, so that’s your suggestion?” You asked, and Luke nodded, biting his lip. “‘M not sure about it,” you mumbled against his cheek, nuzzling it softly.

“Well, we should try, maybe it’ll remind you,” Luke chuckled softly, turning his head. His lips brushed against yours in a barely-there touch. It was more of a tease, but still managed to send a tingling down his spine. He cupped the side of your neck, his thumb under your jaw, leaning in, and finally kissed you properly. His lips finally met yours, his breath hitching. Luke loved the warmth of your mouth, the softness of your lips, and it made his head spin when you kissed him back just as lovingly. “Like this?”

“I don’t think I’ve remembered enough,” you said as soon as his lips broke away from yours.

Luke chuckled. “We’ll have to keep trying, then.” He pecked your lips. “Until you remember.” Despite the calloused skin, his hands gently cupped your face as he kissed you once more, needy lips pressing to yours in a longer, deeper kiss. His kisses were messy in the best way possible, oscillating between the need and shyness, refraining into more contained movements right after deepening it and getting lost on your lips, trying to get a grip of himself again. “Do you like this?” Luke’s lips grazed yours as he spoke.

“Mhm. So good.” You wrapped your arms around his neck, mirroring his smile. He couldn’t be close enough.

Something shifted in Luke’s gaze as he tilted his head; it was like you were the most precious thing in the whole universe. He kissed you again, letting it last longer, as his thumbs ran along your cheekbones. “You’re so good at this,” he groaned, wrapping his arms around your waist to hug you tightly while nuzzling your nose. “I love being close to you like this.”

⋆｡°✩ ⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆ ✩°｡⋆

[okthatsgreat]

did anybody see the newest episode of danganronpa 52 lollllllll

#there is something deeply wrong with team dr im afraid #A DEATH SO SOON JESUSSSSSS where was the ult cardiologist at......... #dr52 liveblog #dr52 spoilers #lee chat

5 notes

🐻 dangronper Follow

Gonna try getting into the new season lol, I stopped watching at season 37. No spoilers please

🐻 dangronper Follow

Okay wow a lot has changed! Everything is so high tech now??? I kinda miss when they just kept it more simple and had them all locked in a school ngl but maybe thats just me liking season 1 lol. Im really liking Jiro so far Im hoping he at least makes it to chapter 3 because I really wanna know more about that guy

🐻 dangronper Follow

You've gotta be kidding.

#CHAPTER ONE? HE DIED CHAPTER ONE? #THIS IS WHY I HATE ALL OF THE NEW SEASONS SO FUCKIGN BAD #THEY ONLY CARE ABOUT SHOCK VALUE AND THEY DONT CARE ABOUT STORY #THAT DEATH MAKES NO SENSE THERE ARE YOU ACTUALLY JOKING #Im logging off.

4 notes

💀 youvegotthatrite Following

12,433 notes

🫖 nagitosleftleg Follow

just a reminder that wishing death on any of the danganronpa writers makes you a terrible person and all of your favorite danganronpa characters hate you if you do that! 🤗 this is danganronpa so a lot of them will die 🤗 that doesnt mean you get to be a dickhead to team dr 🤗 get over it! 🤗

🍳 naeggieggin Follow

oh my god can anybody in this fandom just be normal and not use this weird passive aggressive tone for every single post. the writers do not give less of a fuck and neither do the actors theyre all dealing with their own shit

#i hate this fandom istg. and stop calling them characters the flashback light doesnt make them entirely fake #theyre still actual people #with feelings #danganronpa 52

769 notes

🍀luckyguy Follow

this is NOT what ultimate hope makoto naegi would have wanted

#dr52 spoilers #lucky student killed first chapter &lt;;/3 #shut up you [txt]

4,013 notes

🔧 sorryiwasbornstupid Follow

kazuichi sighted in the new post-season promo video he looks so g.ood .... . id let him do anything to me

🌸 neverminded Following

@kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial @kazuichisodaofficial

🔧 sorryiwasbornstupid Follow

HELLO?

34 notes

🔪 danganronpa Following

Puhuhu! New episode of DANGANRONPA 52 out TODAY at 1pm JST! Make sure to bring your popcorn and your bagels, this episode sure gets.... despairful 👀You won't wanna miss it!

🍀luckyguy Follow

K

🔱 ultscubafan Follow

U

🎆 chickencoopexplosion Follow

N

🫖 nagitosleftleg Follow

G

🎸 lightmusicplayer Following

P

9,012 notes

🍳 naeggieggin Follow

can early season purists please get their heads out of nagito komaedas ass. he does not want to fuck you

106 notes

🎞️ kirigiririririri Follow

Waiittttt Jiro is so cute actually XD He keeps tripping over his shoelaces in the background of scenes LOL he's so smol ..............

🎞️ kirigiririririri Follow

I'M GONNA KILL MYSELF

#he's DEAD?????????????????????????????????

2 notes

🍳 naeggieggin Follow

keep in mind the danganronpa actors are still real people and they can see all of you thirsting over them ok. please be normal. just because they went through the effects of the flashback light doesnt mean its ok to be a fucking weirdo to hajime whenever he walks outside

🧊 kokoroicebox Follow

They're celebrities. People are going to find celebrities attractive, especially if these are people they see on screens and billboards every day. If you pick up the nearest magazine you find you're probably going to find Junko Enoshima in it. And maybe you should consider that those "weirdos" who are walking up to Hajime are simply fans that want to greet him. We've watched these people fight through hell, cry, laugh, and find hope along the way. Of course we are going to get attached to them, especially to those of us who have been keeping up with them for a long time now. You're basically asking a bunch of teenagers to close their eyes and pretend their favorite media doesn't exist.

🍳 naeggieggin Follow

i literally did not say that

🌀 cageofdeath Follow

have you maybe ever considered that maybe some people get hyperfixations??

🍳 naeggieggin Follow

oh my fucking god.

🎸 lightmusicplayer Following

anybody in this thread smoke weed

1,034 notes

🍊 hinataorangejuice Follow

OKKKKK WAIT WHY IS RANTARO KINDA 👀👀👀

#the way he got so serious while investigating.............. #wasnt a huge fan of him at the start but he's growing on me lowkey #dr52 #danganronpa 52 #dr52 #orange speaks!

29 notes

💀 youvegotthatrite Following

JIROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

#FUFUUUCUCKKCKCCKKKCKKCKC I REALLY LIEKD HIM!!!3!@!#(!# #FUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK #ORUUGH WHY COULDNT HAVE BEEN MOMO #dr52 lb

8 notes

🍧minimarruuuu Follow

no chapter 1 death is ever gonna beat sayaka imo #girl

#it just really started the series off so well and no other chapter 1 victim has impressed me tbh #ugh but idk shes kinda annoying now with all of her interviewssss like girl its ok to not smile sometimes lmfao #sayaka maizono #dr52 critical #maru.txt

11 notes

🎸 lightmusicplayer Following

guy ists ok hes not actually dead hes just sleeping guys

#guys #danganronpa 52 #danganronpa 52 spoilers #<- ??? just in case

🔍 kirigiri Following

a

🍊 hinataorangejuice Follow

ok queen speak your truth i guess

🌸 neverminded Following

THIS MIGHT BE A CLUE THIS MGIHT BE A CLUE TO JIROS KILLER IM LOOKIGNGGGGG SO HARD AT AKEMI RIGHT NOW

🎆 chickencoopexplosion Follow

i think she might have just accidentally posted a draft lol

🌸 neverminded Following

I dont know............. team dr has done this before where they leave littel clues in places and this seems a little TOO coincidental

🔍 kirigiri Following

I hit the post button too early.

🌸 neverminded Following

KYOKO KIRIGIRI?

43,033 notes

🐰monomini Follow

okkkkk im kinda over rantaro already lmao. heres hoping we dont get another season of him

1 note

[watchmegetobsessed]

MISTLETOE

A/N: oh my god??? im actually posting something??? wow!!! okay joke aside lol its been ages since i last poste anything and im not saying im back, but i've been trying to write here and there so hopefully i will be back soon. until then, here is this little something i manage to finish last month!

WORD COUNT: 1.6k

SUMMARY: Everyone knows Harry is crushing on Y/N, but he hasn't made any major moves. Maybe tonight, when they find themselves under the mistletoe...

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

“So Styles, are you gonna man up and ask her out finally, or be a baby?” Niall laughs, bumping his shoulder against Harry’s as they are approaching the pub they spend almost every Friday night at. 

“Shut up,” he groans, but it’s impossible to miss the blush on his cheeks. Niall didn’t even drop a name, but they both knew who he was talking about.

It’s kind of an open secret that Harry has been very into Y/N. Well, all the boys know at least and they very much enjoy teasing him about it. Or maybe not about the crush, but about how long he’s been into her and he still hasn’t made any major moves. The past couple of weeks it’s been even more intense, because it seems like Y/N has been very much open towards Harry and his interest in her, but he’s been clearly waiting for him to make a move. 

As the boys arrive at the pub it’s just as buzzing as always even despite the painfully cold weather that’s been keeping everyone on campus wrapped up in their warmest clothes. A few days ago it was even snowing for a bit, though there’s nothing left from the whiteness by now.

Harry sighs happily as the warmth of the crowd inside hugs him in an instant. The bunch that’s already there, including Y/N, is sitting in the back at a table they often sit by, it’s kind of their spot at this point. 

He spots her in an instant and his cheeks warm up, but this time it’s not because of the temperature inside the pub. He saw her just the other day at lunch, but he can always feel his heart skipping a beat as if she was coming back from a months long trip. 

“You’re being obvious,” Niall bumps his shoulder against his, grinning at his friend, but Harry just rolls his eyes again as they make their way over to the table.

With only two weeks until winter break the place is decorated, there are garlands running along the walls and pipes, ornaments hanging from the corners of the framed photos, there’s a tiny christmas tree on top of the bar and if you’re not paying attention you can end up standing underneath a mistletoe here and there as well. 

“Hey! Thought you guys weren’t even gonna make it!” Jackie exclaims as she stands from the table, hugging the boys one by one. She is practically the person who brought the group together, everyone in the gang either had a lecture together with her, went to practice with her or shared a room with her. The latter is how Y/N got to meet the boys, including Harry. Though the two girls are not roommates anymore, they are still very close. 

Just as Harry wraps his arms around Jackie his eyes meet Y/N’s over her shoulder and his ming blanks for a moment. With her shy smile, simple yet flattering outfit and vibrant aura she is definitely the one who steals the show, at least in Harry’s mind. 

“Hi,” he breathes out when they are finally facing each other and she gifts him with the brightest smile as she lifts her arms to wrap them around his neck.

“Hi,” she giggles, her front pressing against his and he holds her just a bit tighter and longer than anyone else. Which she seemingly doesn’t mind. 

Of course they end up sitting next to each other. It’s no surprise to anyone. Niall is sitting across Harry and every time Harry looks his way he gives him a nudging, teasing look that screams “come on, make a move” which Harry tries to ignore as much as possible, though Niall tends to be a bit much at times.

“What are your plans for the break?” Y/N asks him, the two of them have kind of tuned out of the conversation that’s happening around the table. 

“Just going home, spending time with my family. My mum is very excited,” he chuckles softly. “What about you?”

“Pretty much the same,” she smiles. “I’m pretty sure my mum has already started cooking.”

They talk about family traditions, gifting and funny stories from past holidays, completely forgetting about the rest of the group for a while. When their glasses empty out they head over to the bar for a refill, sticking to each other’s side still.

When Y/N tries to pay for her drink Harry steps in, earning a knowing look from the bartender. 

“What a gentleman,” he murmurs under his breath with a smirk, pushing the two beers towards them. Harry’s ears turn red, while Y/N just nods in agreement. 

A guy hurries past them, pushing Y/N slightly against Harry whose hand moves to her waist out of instinct to steady her. The moment gets lost in the crowd to everyone else, but not to them. Harry’s whole body flames, the closeness of her feels exciting and calming at the same time and he doesn’t know, but she shares the same feeling. 

“You alright?” he manages to ask her, their faces way closer than ever before. She peeks up at him with a short nod.

“Yeah, thanks.”

It feels like a moment that would be perfect to finally make a move. Harry knows and as he is looking at her he also knows that she wouldn’t reject him, yet he still can’t get himself to take that step and cross the line he’s been dancing on for so long. 

The seconds pass by and the moment fades as well, disappointment bubbling in her gut as she moves back from him, his hand falling off her waist and he is already regretting being such a coward.

“Fuck,” he whispers to himself as Y/N starts to move ahead of him, back to the table and he follows her feeling like the biggest loser ever. 

Why is he so afraid of making a move? She’s all he’s been thinking about, they get along so well and everyone’s been telling him she wants him too. But still, that awful voice in the back of his head keeps reminding him there’s a chance she rejects him and everything would be ruined after that. 

Defeated, they join the rest of the table again and they both can feel a wall sitting right between them. Harry keeps replaying the moment in his head, he thinks of everything he could have done not to mess up his chance, wishing he could go back in time and man up finally.

Soon enough the group moves to the darts boards as Niall and Liam start a match, the rest enjoying the show because Niall is known to be quite competitive in any and all sports. 

Harry is standing by Y/N again, but there’s tension between them obviously and his mind is racing to find a way to ease the situation. Should he ask her to talk? Pretend like nothing happened? Or what if he just swung an arm around her right now? What if–

“Oh! You two!” Niall snaps him out of his thoughts, pointing at him and Y/N. “You’re standing under the mistletoe!”

They look up at the same time, checking that he did not lie, there really is a mistletoe hanging above them. Their gazes meet and the moment is back. Y/N is looking at him with hope tinkering in her eyes and Harry knows he can’t mess it up this time, but he needs just a few seconds to build up the courage, this is a big step and he…

He is taking too long. He sees the moment when Y/N is letting go and panic sets in, screaming at him to do something and then… he finally does. Just when Y/N turns her face in defeat he gently cups her cheek, turning it back and she sucks on her breath before he finally presses his lips to hers. 

A lot happens around them, there’s whistling and clapping and Niall shouts something but it all tunes out to Harry, she is all he can sense. Her arms are quick to snake around his neck and his hands find their way to her waist, pulling her tight into his embrace, hoping he never has to let go of her. 

All his fantasies about what kissing her would feel like vanish and he swears it’s all he has ever known, the touch of her soft lips, the way her tongue swirls against his, the warmth of her body pressed against his. 

Their mistletoe kiss stretches long and neither of them really wants to end it, but reality pushes its way back into their bubble and the noise pops it. Pulling apart they stare at each other for a while before Y/N’s lips slowly break into a smile that Harry feels like wants to own forever. He can’t bear the thought of anyone else being the reason she smiles this way. 

“Harry Styles finally grew some balls!” Niall shouts, completely stomping over the moment they just shared as they turn back to face their friends, arms still around each other. 

“A Christmas miracle!” Jackie joins in on the teasing. 

“Okay, okay! I get it!” Harry groans, not quite enjoying being in the center of attention. 

Y/N’s arms have moved to circle around his abdomen and she gently squeezes him, grabbing his attention. The moment he looks at her smiling face he forgets about everything that’s making him uncomfortable. 

Leaning down he presses a short, lingering kiss to her lips, replacing every word he ever wanted to tell her and she understands it all, happy to be finally speaking the same language. 

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[etherealily]

🇭​​🇦​​🇷​​🇩​ ​🇨​​🇦​​🇳​​🇩​​🇾​ ~ ​🇫​​🇪​​🇱​​🇮​​🇽​ ​🇨​​🇦​​🇹​​🇹​​🇴​​🇳​

Felix Catton + fem! reader. SFW, but discretion advised, drugs, alcohol. Dark.

Part 2 : Sour Candy

Part 3 : Rock Candy

You do NOT have permission to repost and/or translate any of my fics.

Desc. : You've known him way too long.

["...hard candy dripping on me till my feet are wet... i'm gonna pay for this."]

════════════════════ ⋆🪽⋆ ════════════════════

JUNIOR YEAR, 2004

There was nothing louder than a house full of drunk, horny and high high school kids after the last day before summer break.

"You should take off that coat, ya know? It's a party, and the thermostat's on."

"I can't."

He raised a brow, scoffing as he took a shot. "Why not? You're in your pajamas?"

"Yeah." Felix had dragged you out of your home at three a.m for this. Three. In. The. Morning.

"What? Do they have like, cute little bunnies on them, or sm'n?"

Oh, he'd like that, wouldn't he?

"They're these... really tiny shorts and a tank top, and I-"

"Jesus, you fucking prude!", he groaned, frustrated. "You're worried about being too revealing? It's a fucking high school party - it's kinda the dress code!"

Well, okay, asshole. "Oh, yeah? Then why are you fully-"

He didn't even let you finish, as he took off his shirt and threw it on the ground. "There. Now take off your coat, you fucking square."

You took it off, taking the shot he pressed up to your lips, too. "Fuck." It shot through you like it had a vendetta.

"Right?", he snickered, nodding at you to take another. "Fucking crazy shit, man."

"BODY SHOTS!" It was like they were all trying to prove your point about the world's loudest thing being horny kids hopped up on drugs by making your eardrums bleed.

Felix swivelled his head over to you, an excited, mischeivous glint in his eye.

"No. No, Felix, no, I-"

"Don't be a fucking hard-arse, Y/N. You'd be labelled a loser."

"Better to be a loser than take part in this..."

"If you say debauchery, I'm going to kick you out."

You were, but not anymore.

"Look, the way I see it, you've got two choices. One, you let me do body shots off you. Two, I whisk you away right now and drop you back home..."

Wait, that seemed like a solid plan-

"...but not your bedroom. Your front doorstep, wherever it is. I introduce myself to your parents. Offer to sell them drugs. How's that sound?"

"You're such a cunt."

"Wow, creative. C'mon, up you get.", he instructed, folding his arms after pointing to the kitchen island.

"No."

"Okay, fine, you wanna do shots off me?"

That'd be far less embarrassing.

"Sure."

He shook his head, amused, as he hoisted himself onto the table, in the centre of the horde of cheering jocks and preps. You'd be lying if you said you weren't excited for the maturity that came with college.

"NO! No, just Y/N!", he ordered, shooing everyone else away.

Shut the fuck up. But it was too late. Everyone saw you.

You watched him grab the lime that someone brought to his mouth with his teeth, crane his neck slightly so that they could dab some sugar there, and then you watched the whole party - at least, those inside the house and not in the backyard with the kegs or snorting lines - turn eagerly to you.

"Go on, Y/N, don't be shy."

He huffed as you hesitated. "How would your dad feel if I sold him meth?", he asked, removing the lime and raising a brow at you.

Fuck. You leaned over, licking the sugar crystals off his neck, the mouth-watering taste immediately being soured as you sucked up and licked the trail of tequila someone had poured into his navel, and finally, sucked the lime from his lips, shuddering in the tang.

Cheers.

"Good girl, love, that was perfect, for a first timer."

As always, he'd forgotten about every time he'd forced you to do the same thing. He'd forgotten that he wasn't forgiven.

You couldn't bloody wait till graduation. You'd cut off every single person in this entire pathetic excuse for a school.

Especially Felix Catton.

THIRTEEN MONTHS LATER

You'd always thought college was a given. That was the order it went in, right? High school, Uni, job, marriage, kids, retirement, death. Simple, skeletal, and easy to follow.

Now, the mistake you'd made was assuming that each stage came with an upgraded level of maturity, as well.

You know? How after marriage, you're more rational about love than when you're a horny junior?

Well, evidently, college had missed the memo about maturity.

This was bloody Oxford. OX-BLOODY-FORD. Supposed to be refined, fancy, intellectual.

There was no reason for you to be begrudgingly sat on a mangy old couch whose stains you didn't really want to examine too closely, watching strobe lights flicker here and there, making it look like you were about to be given a fucking lap dance, with how cheap it was.

Not to mention the amount of times you had to push the coked-out bimbo to the right of you off your shoulder and the bricked-up asshole to the left of you, off... well, yourself.

All in all, this was high school all over again.

You had to be here, you reasoned, mentally scratching off your no reason thoughts from earlier. It was the end-of-first-week party, of course. I mean, the upperclassmen threw these things every year for all the newcomers, kind of like a welcoming-slash-bullying ceremony, and to not go was social suicide. To go was basically suicide.

Essentially, you were fucked.

It was sort of pathetic, really, the way you were there, desperately wanting to get up, without actually doing it, because where would you go? What would you do? Dance? That would contribute to the bullying part of this welcoming-slash-bullying ceremony. Stand still in the corner? You'd either end up drugged somehow or outcast.

At least here, people could see you. People might probably remember you, your lack of participation blurring out in their minds, but your presence vaguely familiar. And that's all that was needed, really.

'Oh, yeah, she was there at the party. Yeah, think she and the bird near her were doing lines. Yeah, she was getting it on with the guy next to her.'

As a slut or otherwise, you needed to be perceived to survive college, that was for sure.

The girl right next to you groaned against your shoulder. "You're so... soft. Thanks for putting up with me."

"I showed up way too late.", you muttered, looking around at the scanty crowd.

"Late? No, love, you're early! The main upperclassmen aren't even here, yet.", she explained, shooting up with an unecessary jolt of interest in your lack of knowledge.

"Main?"

"No one throws a party like The Upperclassmen. This isn't even anything, baby."

"There's another one, then, after this?"

"Yeah, this is the main party, and then, maybe, if they feel so inclined, an after-party. But that's invitation-only, so only if they really want to toy with you.", she told you, slowly, and diligently, just in case the cocaine in her veins had evaporated from her blood and you'd inhaled it by accident.

"I'm sor- I'm sorry, toy with me?"

This was Ox-Bloody-Ford! You were supposed to be reading Faust, commenting on Dostoevsky, or cussing out Freud. Something intellectual. Not waiting for a fucking gang of seniors who called themselves, what, the bloody Upperclassmen (like it was cool?) to decide whether you'd be their personal jester or the jest itself.

"They just want to scope out the freshmen, see if there's any worth provoking."

Pursuing, she meant.

"Where is this, uh, after-party?"

"Probably at, like, one of the Upperclassmen's homes? I dunno. Usually, they rent out some club, but this time, I think one of the richer ones rented out, like, an entire villa, so.", she informed you, shrugging.

She shook her head at the groan that followed, patting your cheek as she dragged you over closer to her, away from the creep next to you, pulling out a bottle of tequila.

"Look, there's a reason they've made everyone come to this cheap club.", she said, pouring it out into a glass, offering it to you.

You sighed, nodding as you downed a shot.

"It's supposed to be unenjoyable. It's supposed to make you want to vomit. Seriously, I faced the same thing when I was a freshman, too. Just be yourself, make the most of the situation, and you're cool. Look too chickenshit or disgusted, and you're not. Be neutral, and you're safe, but not respected. Safe is fine."

"I wasn't aware college had cliques, too."

"Life has cliques. Maturity is a very subjective word."

Cocaine had a philosophical advantage, too, apparently.

That was fair. Seven year old you would have considered this - being at a party, as a very mature thing to do, indeed.

She clinked her glass against yours, before downing her shot in one smooth go. "Trust me, sweetheart, get as drunk as you can right now."

You mirrored her, downing your own shot as the music suddenly got louder, cheers erupting from the doorway.

And god fucking damn you if you didn't disregard her entire speech about not looking disgusted, because right there, right BLOODY there was Felix Catton, dancing in like this entire night was a celebration for his sheer existence.

Fuck.

------

Please be a trick of the light, please be a trick of the-

You watched as he twirled girls around, completely off-beat, but completely smoothly, too, at the same time.

Infuriating. Oh, it was HIM, alright. How did he even get into Oxford?! And, more importantly, how was it you had no clue?

Well, that wasn't entirely fair. He was good at his studies, more or less. But you'll be damned if you sat there and admitted it.

"Is that...?"

"Yeah, he's one of The Upperclassmen. Felix Catton.", she nodded, watching with hungry eyes. "Fucking smash, smash, smash."

'Oh, yeah, you get close to him, he will 'smash, smash, smash' you. To bits.' , you grumbled internally.

"Last year, when he was a freshman, the upperclassmen loved him so much, he actually planned the welcoming party for his own batch. Crazy, right?"

"Nah, not crazy."

Made sense. He always got the free passes, the girls, the good drugs, dammit, and... well, everything. The only thing he never got was you, and your forgiveness for being a total bloody cunt unless it benefitted him, but as you watched his lying little lips wrap around a cigarette and then immediately around a girl's tongue, you realised he truly didn't give a shit.

"So you can tell, can you? That he's the most loved?"

You hid a scoff. "Oh, yeah. Clear as day."

"Right?", she gushed, biting her lip momentarily before taking another shot. "He's just got one of those faces."

Yeah, a punchable one.

"I'll tell you, girl. You manage to get in close with him, you're set for life. He's loaded, too, I heard.'

You didn't really think this was an appropriate time to mention that both of you had gone to the same rich-people private school.

"Oh?"

She nodded, gesturing at you to take your shot. "I'm telling you."

"Yeah, well, I don't need an invite to the after-party. I just don't want to find out what happens when They hate me."

She shook her head again, as if to say that wouldn't happen. "Now, shoo, my little protégé. Mingle."

You rolled your eyes, hiding a laugh as you did as instructed, obediently. She was older, of course, and wiser, and she was more used to this intricate, almost unnavigable society called Uni, so, hey. You wouldn't argue.

But she was also coked-out, a woman of very loose morals and hence sanity and sobriety.

Should you argue?

════════════════════ ⋆🪽⋆ ════════════════════

Ending up chatting and doing shots with one guy who seemed relatively non-rapey, your night didn't seem to be going too terribly - a feat you were astonished you'd actually managed.

Finally, a party that wasn't a total bust.

Your hand was under your chin as you listened to him. Normal and casual? Check.

A lopsided grin was on his face. He was having fun, too? Check.

And the lights crackled and shone above both of you. Obscure thing obliged to happen because it was a party and it was basically a law? Check.

His eyes moving behind you, confused and then almost startled? Uh... not in the checklist.

You didn't even have time to be shocked.

"Oh, Jesus FUCK!", shrieked Felix, grinning ear to ear and laughing as if this was all he'd ever wanted in life, his eyes widening as he lunged at you from behind, picking you up and twirling you around - essentially as if you weighed nothing. Harsh on your gym routines, actually. "I thought I saw you! Assumed it was a trick of the light!"

You fought a sigh.

Here's the thing about Felix.

Felix-hugs were the most bittersweet experience on the planet.

They were lovely, warm, and melting.

They were also embarrassingly intimate, mildly condescending, and had a knack for making you feel like you owed him something afterwards.

He continued squeezing, rocking you slightly, before he let go, the look of genuine joy in his eyes slightly making you second-guess whether he really was worth holding a grudge against.

His eyes moved to the guy next to you, his smile still not fading and his arm still around your shoulder. "Hey, who're you?", he asked, clapping a hand on his back.

"Daniel." A small nod. A shit-it's-Felix-get-me-out-of-here-nod.

"Right on, Danny, mate!", he chuckled, holding out his hand. "Give it here!"

Daniel made the mistake of shaking his hand, eliciting a palpably judgemental scoff from Felix. "Aren't we well-mannered?", he muttered. "You a fresher, Dan?"

He nodded. "Yes."

"Major?"

"Literature."

"Figured.", he said simply, his smile never once looking anything but welcoming. But it was clear Danny had just committed social suicide. "Tell me, what is it you even learn? Shakespeare?"

"Yeah, we have, actually."

"Romeo and Juliet.", he mused, shaking his head as he looked down at Danny. "Not star-crossed lovers, just losers."

That was evidently a dig at him.

"I think I gotta go , actually.", said Daniel, looking down at his watch. "Work."

"Don't be a stranger, Dan-zo!", he called out behind him, before turning back to you, at his arm. "He's definitely going to keep getting stranger.", he remarked, clutching you closer to his side once more. "Who even handshakes anymore?"

"Loads of people."

"Not you, right, love? Gosh, don't tell me you sucked a hand-shaker's cock. He's not shag-material."

You grimaced. Did he always have to be so crude?

"Why are you flinching like we're in third grade? What, are you, like some, virgin prude or sm'n?", he scoffed, pearly teeth attempting to hide behind the soft glow of his cigarette.

"I'm not a bloody virgin!"

This had always been one of the subjects of Felix's obsessions back in high school - he preferred his girls experienced.

He couldn't be bothered to have to teach and accomodate and- ugh. Too much work.

And you'd always sort of... accepted it. I mean, he was Felix.

So now, when he lazily suggested you were a virgin - perfectly fine for a 19 year old by the way - you panicked. Played into his preferences.

He tousled his hair, the pink and green of the lights in the club choosing the beads of sweat on his bare torso to illuminate, of all things. Then, he turned to look at you, drink in hand, invisible steam coming out of your ears.

His mouth slowly opened as he released a puff of smoke on your face, and he gaped at you, the corners of his mouth slightly upturned. "You are a virgin!", he exclaimed, gasping as he did so. "Oh, my god, with a body like that, you're still a bloody virgin?"

"No, no, yell it louder, yeah? Don't think they heard you all the way down in Australia!"

He grinned, scrunching up his nose as he tapped yours. "Come off it, no one heard that. You're eighteen, you know? It's, like, illegal to not have had sex."

"That's not how it work- you're just taking the mick outta me, aren't you?"

"Slightly.", he teased, shrugging as he kissed your cheek, as if that would wipe the frown off your face. "Oh, cheer up, we'll find you someone to shag by the end of the night! And not a hand-shaking twat. Trust."

"I don't want somebody to shag!"

He snorted, shaking his head. "Spoken like a true virgin."

"Alright, shut up, okay? I'm perfectly fine as I am."

"Where'd you run off to, anyway?", he inquired leaning against the bar stool as he took a long drag of his cigarette. "After my senior year. You didn't really contact me."

Take a wild guess why, you absolute arse.

"You didn't contact me."

"'Cause I figured we were family friends. That we would've met at some party. Either way, you could've at least emailed me, yeah? A fucking letter, maybe?"

He was not upset, not at all. He was simply bored, so he thought he'd provoke you a bit. What had Coke-Girl said? Oh, yes, toy with you.

"I didn't contact anyone after they graduated.", you muttered, downing your drink with electrifying determination. "You're not special."

He pouted distractedly as he exhaled some more smoke, his eyes fixed on one spot on the floor. "Hey, you know what we should do?"

Kill one another?

"What?"

"Have a proper reunion, like proper-proper. There's an after-party at this villa I rented out, in like, a couple hours. You should come."

It's an order. Not a request, not an invitation. Not like you'd give him the satisfaction of blind compliance, though. That had always been your thing, you and him, he'd ask you to do something, you'd say no, he'd ask again and again until you said okay to shut him up.

From outside, it'd be somewhat endearing - comical, even - to observe. But you weren't on the outside. You were smack-dab in the middle of this annoying exchange.

"It's already twelve."

"Yeah, I know it's a bit early for a party, but-", he huffed, scratching at his forehead with the hand that still held the cigarette.

"But c'mon. Our reunion is a... special event, wouldn't you agree? Summat to be celebrated, yes?"

His shoulder nudged yours and suddenly you were in high school again, Felix trying his best to convince you that injecting unknown stuff into your bloodstream would be the 'maddest experience of your life'.

"Come on, Y/N, don't be a fucking prude.", he mumbled next to your ear, raising a brow devilishly.

That was a silent warning. Essentially, he'd tell everyone you were a virgin if you didn't humour him. "It'll be just like old times. You'll do body shots off me. Maybe now that you're more mature, you'll let me do them off you?"

"Look, Felix, thanks for offering, but I'm not coming to-"

He shushed you, shaking his head as he took out an opaque little container from his pocket and then shook it, watching the pills plop one-by-one onto his palm. "What do they do? No fucking clue.", he rhymed under his breath, sing-songily, as he glanced up at you, expectantly.

"Oh, no, no, I can't-"

"Pussy."

"That doesn't work on me anymore, Catton."

His cheeky grin suddenly gave way to a scowl. "Why have you changed so much? What happened?"

What the hell was he on about?

"We used to be like best friends! Tom and Jerry!"

"Tom tries to kill Jerry."

"No! No, no, no! They're best mates! Tom just does that to like, make sure his owners don't find another cat who actually wants to kill Jerry!"

He wasn't even high yet, he was talking like this? You'd made a good call on the pills.

"Okay, so assuming I'm Jerry in this... analogy, you've only been a cunt to me because you're afraid someone else is going to actually be a cunt and take your place?"

He popped one of the pills into his mouth, sucking at it so tantalizingly you couldn't help but envy it, for a moment.

That thought was another reason you were glad telepathy wasn't real.

"You make it sound so crazy."

"Maybe 'cause it - What is that, like a... hard candy or summat?", you huffed, watching him suck torturously on the thing.

He nodded. "Yeah. Try one."

"So they were never real?", you asked, accepting a dark purple one you assumed to be grape flavoured.

He shook his head. "Me and the mates sometimes do that. Distribute them. See who acts high. Loads of fun."

Your assumption was proved right. It was grape. "You're a sadist, y'know?"

"And you haven't answered my question, y'know? What happened to you? To us? We were like... this tight!", he whined, crossing both his middle fingers over both his indexes.

"Felix, I don't know if you know this, but I hated you in high school."

"WHAT?", he scoffed, evidently very offended. "No, you didn't!"

"O'course I did. We'd known each other since we were five, then you suddenly hate me all of a sudden in middle school, then the last year of high school, I'm suddenly your puppet you can bring along when you're bored and lonely and wanting to look charitable?"

"That's not even remotely true, alright? I'm a very kind person."

You sighed. "Sure."

"I don't like being called a bad person, Y/N.", he declared, frowning. "Take it back."

"No."

"TAKE. IT. BACK."

"NO. I. WON'T."

His hand slammed melodramatically down on the bar stool, repeating the words as screams now, submerged under the loud waves of music. You still refused to take back the fact that Felix was not the super kind, perfect, individual that everyone thought he was, and that seemed to irk him.

Because who was he if not the nice one? The one whose attention was a blessing?

"You enjoyed it, though, like a little popular-adjacent... fame-sucker! You'd never have been anywhere without me!"

You gasped in sardonic offense. "Oh, no, what ever would I have done without you? Gotten a good sleep schedule?"

He rolled his eyes. "Uncool." He pointed his cigarette at you.

"You're uncool, Y/N.", he taunted as he backed away, shaking his head and tutting.

As Coke-Girl had said, you'd just been marked for the hermit life by an Upperclassman. Brilliant. Fucking great. You rolled your eyes, flipping his ungrateful arse the bird.

After the party, about two hours later, however, he caught up with you, grumbling as he shoved you into his car and broke his rule of only shagging non-virgins, and you broke your rule of only shagging non-Felix-Cattons.

════════════════════ ⋆🪽⋆ ════════════════════

FIVE MONTHS LATER

Shame was not something Felix really felt much.

Hooking up with a random girl in a club bathroom and moaning someone else's name? Awkward, yes, but not really shame-inducing.

To each their own. A bathroom hookup was degrading enough, anyway.

Then he came out of the bathroom. Shame still eluded him.

But barely a half hour later, he was on his knees at the dorm of the person whose name he'd moaned, his face pressed into your stomach, the stain of his tears growing increasingly on your shirt , and shame introduced itself to him by slapping his face ten times, five on each cheek.

Felix Catton had never needed you. He had never really needed anything.

You, in turn, had never needed him.

Your disdain for him was evident to everyone in the entire university - which you didn't mind. So what if he'd essentially marked you for the hermit life? You were actually doing fine. You still got to go to parties, you still had a good social life, it was lovely.

[Point : You.]

But here's the thing about Felix Catton.

He didn't seem to really know how being mad was supposed to work. Evidently, no one had ever not wanted to be around him before.

And that is where the problem lay.

Because no matter how many times you yelled at him, no matter how many times he yelled back, he'd be at your door just like tonight, high and on his knees, undoing your belt buckle while muttering an impressive mix of profanities and apologies.

"God, love, just fuck me blind already."

"Did you miss me, too?"

"You can't keep fucking doing this to me, I'm going insane."

A few gems from the last three times he'd come crawling back.

And he was Felix. What would you do? Push him away? Laughable.

He knew you wouldn't. [Point : Felix.]

════════════════════ ⋆🪽⋆ ════════════════════

This time, however, something was off. This time, it felt... different.

You were so fucking patient this time that he almost insulted you just to get a reaction. Why weren't you kicking him out? Why were you also not letting him in? Why did you let him stay like that, waiting for him to say something?

"Y/N, say something.", he mumbled against your torso, his eyes still wet and stinging.

"Like what?"

Was that fatigue he sensed in your tone? You sounded utterly spent.

"Anything."

"We can't- I can't keep doing this."

"What?"

"This… this vicious cycle of you come, we fuck, we're cool for, maybe, two weeks - if we're lucky - and then you throw a fit at me like I'm the one who keeps crawling back and then call me a cunt! And then every time you're on a bender-"

You stopped to take a breath, clenching your jaw.

He'd expected you to push him away, but the most you did was stop stroking his hair. That was a shame. He'd quite liked that.

He didn't like the fact that you allowed him to hold onto you so tenderly while you recounted all the non-tender things he did. It was cruel and it was smart and it was working.

"This is our, what, fifth time here?"

"You said it yourself, we're cool for two weeks. We should just… elongate that."

"Oh, yes, sure, great. Why did we never try that before?"

"Y/N, please. Please."

You should be pushing him away.

You should be kicking him out the door.

"Felix, you can't just keep-"

"I won't. This'll be the last time."

"And how many times have you said that?"

"I'm so sorry, love, I don't know what got- I didn't mean for it to- I'm sorry."

"No, you're not, you're just high"

He shook his head, groaning as he kissed up from your navel to your chest, craning his neck as far as possible, before he slowly stood. "You're wrong."

"No, Felix, I'm not."

What set his teeth on edge was that you didn't stop him making a fool of himself at any moment, almost like you enjoyed watching his desperation.

"Yes, you are.", he whined, as his lips began to give way to his tongue, reintroducing it to your throat. "You know you are."

And then, finally, finally, you rolled your eyes and grabbed his hair tightly - ouch - to push him away from your neck. Finally, a fucking reaction. "Felix."

"Y/N."

"We agreed we'd just ignore each other during Uni, and yet, here you are, acting like I owe you something."

He groaned, your logic way too much for his absolutely plastered mind. "We had a deal. When you need it, come to me. When I need it, I come to you. Mutual disdain be damned."

"Felix, that's not the-" That was the furthest thing from the fucking deal.

"I was your first, and I'm also your best! So don't be bloody ungrateful, alright, baby? So, stop acting like you hate sex."

"This isn't about sex."

"Have we been in the same relationship?", he scoffed.

Whoops. That was the wrong word. "I just mean- we're really good at what we do, y'know?"

"Yeah, I know, I was there.", you sniped. "But I stand by what I said. This isn't about sex. This is about your borderline unhealthy obsession with me."

Okay, he came here to shag the daylights out of you, not be read through and analyzed like literature. That was fucking David- wait, Daniel? Whatever- his job. Not yours.

"'M not obsessed. Just addicted."

He always knew it was about the right words with you.

He leaned down over you, forehead nuzzled against yours, and his lips magnetically drawn to yours. "Please, Y/N."

"Felix…"

"Please. You're mine, right? You can do this for me."

Shit. That would set you off again if he didn't do something about it.

"No matter what happens between us, we've got each other's backs. You're mine, I'm yours." That should pacify you.

He peppered multiple kisses on your lips, murmuring sweet nothings to you between them. He didn't want to brag, but he was very good at being persuasive.

"Felix."

"Shh."

"Felix, I can't, I'm with someone else!" Oof. Minor setback. But it's alright. This wasn't the first time you'd forced yourself to date someone else to get over him.

"Really?"

"Yes. So you should leave."

"Leave? And not fight for you? The only woman who…", he whispered once more, bringing your hands to his chest, "…gets me?" His lips were barely inches away from your eyes, the same ones he searched so deeply through at the moment.

"Gets you or gets you off?", you scoffed.

What, did you have all his possible moves written down somewhere?

"Why can't it be both?"

"Felix, leave."

"I've got with you when I was with someone else, why can't you?"

"That's different."

"How?"

"Because you're you! You're never with someone else! It's just that you hook up with one person more often than the rest of the population!"

Well, yeah, wasn't that commitment?

"So? I was still with someone, but I cared about you enough to take care of you."

That was a lie.

He was the one who'd shown up at your door, not caring whether he was 'cheating' or not.

But he knew that you'd blocked out most of that traumatic night from your memory, what with the trip to the ER and all, so you wouldn't refute him.

"I'm not- you're grasping at straws."

"And you're prolonging the inevitable." God, it was such a hassle not to slur those words with how shitfaced he was. "You'll always come back to me." He continued kissing you, all the while pushing you back into your dorm and closing the door behind him. Good.

"Felix-"

"Shh, you know that you're not pulling away because you've missed me. Just as much as I've missed you."

This seemed as good a time as any to unbutton your shirt. Too bad you decided tonight was the night to be a little bitch and push him away.

"Felix, seriously, stop it, mate.", you huffed, trying to swat his hands away as they curved around your hips through your shirt. "Seriously."

"I'm not your mate.", he whispered against your lips, hoping the words started on his tongue and ended on yours, his tone far too sweet for its own good. "Don't call me that."

His fingers grazed over your bra and it felt so right he had to stop and mentally consider why in the hell he'd ever even said he hated you.

"Felix, stop."

And the look in his eyes helped you finally realize what was off, this time.

He was not high. He was DRUNK.

But it was too late. The male ego is a fragile thing, as you'd learnt.

"Fine. I'll leave. Just know I told Mum about you. She says congrats on losing the V-Card."

"You told her that?" Fuck Felix Catton.

"Yeah. Oh, oh, plus, she wants you to come to Saltburn for Christmas. We can have our proper-proper reunion there, she says. So, you're coming."

"Like hell I will."

"C'mon, you and my Mum were always close, yeah?", he cooed, tucking a piece of your hair in between two of his fingers. "Just 'cause you quote-unquote hated me in school, doesn't make that untrue."

His hand was back on your bra. "Come to Saltburn.", he murmured against your neck. "I'll make it worth your while."

"You're going to embarrass me in front of your family.", you whispered, pushing his fingers away from the clasp, eliciting a sarcastic pout from him.

"You're going to embarrass yourself. And you and I both know you won't reject the invitation."

"You're such a cunt."

"Wow, creative.", he scoffed. Déjà vu. "See you there."

FUCK.

[rotthepoet]

Lorenzo berkshire arranged marriage 😝

YES YES YES YES YES OMG YES 100x

Okay okay so like??? How did we end up in this situation??? Because you knew Lorenzo in school but that man was a BITCHHHHHHH okay? Like he was a DICK and not someone you ever wanted to spend time around. I mean, yeah, he was hot, but that personality was simply distasteful, you arent even sure he knew you existed the 7 years you were in school together

So surprise surprise, when you graduated, (and im gonna be real with you this would only happen if youre a pureblood OR MAYBE HARD MAYBE a half-blood with two very powerful and influential magic parents) dearest mummy and daddy decided;

“Hm! More power and influence?? Good idea!”

And with that, you were arranged to marry into the Berkshire family! How clever! How smart! How lucky for you!

Except, when you’re finally alone with Lorenzo for the first time, he doesnt even bother looking at you as he says “You’re married to me only for show. I will not be your doting husband, but if you want to live a good, long life, you’ll be the perfect wife for me.”

And you’re like. Wtf? Because? This is not how marriage works?

Alas, the ceremony goes on. His lips are addictively soft as you kiss at the alter, and after that? Gone from your line of sight. No where to be found. Actually- you do find him in a study with all his friends, drinking fire whiskey around the fire place. They laugh about the situation, one of them speaking up to say “hey, could be worse. At least she’s hot.”

And you’re like. Wow. Really classy. Very funny. (It hurt your feelings quite a bit)

And trust, you do not see Lorenzo for a very long time. Like. You’re in separate bedrooms, on separate sides of his large estate, with purposely different schedules.

You’ll see him in a corridor occasionally and its like seeing a ghost fr

Regardless, youre expected to attend formal things with him, and you’re expected to stand by his side. And this is really the first time you two get along. Cuz y’see? Lorenzo loves to gossip. A real manwhore for it. So whenever he sees a woman sneaking away from her husband to see another man?? Oh boy he needs to tell someone and you are the physically closest person to him.

And Lorenzo is… aghast really to learn how… witty you are. He was ultimately flabbergasted. He found you… pleasant to talk to.

So he begins joining you at dinner, spouting off drama between his co-workers, updating you on his friends, on himself.

It actually is quite a relaxing way to decompress at the end of the day. And, to add to all of that, you start to see your husband around more often. He actually seeks out your company at the end of a long work day, sitting next to you in the library while you read. Just to be around you.

Then the gifts start.

Showering you in gifts- new clothes, jewelry, flowers, this and that, gives you his card and takes you out for an evening of shopping. Bonus if he gets ro help you choose what dress you like more.

Then he gets touchy, absentmindedly grabbing your hand in a crowd, letting your legs drape across his lap while you sit together, an arm around your shoulders if youre close enough.

He kisses you for the first time on your anniversary, and asks you out on a date. A real date. That should have happened long before the wedding.

And life is good after that <3

[star-girl69]

Fade Into You

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!AphroditeCabin!Reader

—-

sypnosis: you fell first, but clarisse fell harder. requested by anonymous!

a/n: decided to feed y’all today….. two fics i’m a monster that just creates and creates. this was so funny bc i kept accidentally writing angst and i had to stop myself. they’re allowed to have crushes on each other. it’s ok. this was hard anyways i hope you all enjoy!!

Fade Into You - Mazzy Star

warnings: just so cutesy, swearing, mentions of violence, mentions of blood and injury, soft clarisse i looooovvvvveeeeee you, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

Your chest heaves. You’ve never ran that fast or that far before in your life. Your satyr protector runs ahead to get the healers, and you crash against some random building- a tool shed, maybe?

You groan, crouching down to clutch at your lower leg sporting a large gash running blood. You don’t remember how it happened. Maybe it was when you fell? You could have sliced it open on an unfortunately sharp stick.

You don’t even want to think about the fact that the stupid monster thing chasing you could have gotten close enough to claw at you.

“Hey, hey,” someone says, crouching down next to you. She’s wearing an orange shirt. Her hair is curly, her eyes are pretty and brown, and oxygen isn’t getting to your brain so she kind of seems like an angel. “Oh, wow,” she mutters, looking at your leg. “One second, ‘kay?”

“Wait,” you say, grabbing onto her forearm. She looks up at you.

“I’m going two steps away, dummy.” She laughs, and you’ll remember that sound for the rest of your life.

She leaves you, and you almost want to cry because you feel so alone. You’ve just been told you’re a demigod, then you were forced to run through the woods, your heart is still hammering and your leg fucking burns.

But she was right. It was only two steps, and she comes back, the door of what must be some sort of storage shutting behind her.

She leans back down and presses a towel against your gash.

You hiss.

“Sorry,”

“You’re not.” She laughs again. More beautiful music in your ears.

“I’m not,” she agrees.

You fall into silence, it’s so dark out, but you can see everything about her so clearly.

“You can stop breathing so heavily,” she whispers, the shouting of your satyr protector getting closer, along with what must be the healers. “Camp Half-Blood is surrounded by a magical barrier. You’re safe here. Well, at least, no monsters are gonna get you.

“O-okay,” you mumble. You aren’t sure if you believe her. You don’t think you believe anything anymore.

The healers push her away, you’re so so tired, and she stands up, dusting off her hands.

“Thank you, Clarisse,” one of the healers says. “We’ll take it from here.”

Clarisse.

—-

The purpose of Clarisse La Rue’s entire existence seems to be to drive you insane.

The way her arms flex when she wields her spear, the way she lifts her shirt up to dab at sweat on her brow; and the way you can see her toned stomach and the faintest hint of abs you would actually kill to touch. The way she smiles, even though it’s never really genuine, and the way she laughs when she’s making fun of someone.

She was the first person you met at camp, and you’re pretty sure she doesn’t even remember it, yet alone know your name.

It was ironic, as the daughter of Aphrodite, to be quietly pining over someone from the distance. And it sucked, but maybe you would just always have this quiet crush on Clarisse, and you learned to take it like you took your breakfast.

Until the start of this summer, when everyone came back to camp, it was alive again, and it all changed. And now you’re fucked.

—-

You smile, watching a few of the younger campers scream about how amazing the lake is. Summer’s just started. It’s so beautiful this time of year. They didn’t have as traumatic experiences as you, no monsters chased them right up to the barrier of camp. The lake is huge and so blue it seems otherworldly- probably because it is.

You slam into something.

It’s an awkward flare of limbs and muttered obscenities, but you manage to keep yourself upright by falling back into a very convenient tree.

“Sorry,” you say, looking up and expecting to make eye contact with anyone but her.

You haven’t been face to face with Clarisse in four years. You mouth snaps shut, and you’re sure you look like a terrified deer in headlights.

She’s frozen just like you.

“W-watch where you’re going,” she hisses, pushing you farther into the tree as she walks past you.

Did Clarisse just stutter?

—-

Clarisse stares at you.

You blush like you’re about to turn into a flamingo.

The cycle repeats.

—-

This year, the Ares and Aphrodite cabins were paired together to share the field for sword practice just before dinner. The sun is hidden by the trees, providing some nice shade as you frown at all the Ares kids sparring like their lives depend on it.

While Aphrodite kids are not the most naturally skilled in fighting, you’re still demigods, and you still have to know how to protect yourselves.

Matty, a Ares child and your sister Tyla’s boyfriend, already sparred three times, winning against his siblings, then sparred with Tyla once; which just ended with her getting bored after a minute and dropping her sword before jumping into his arms.

You watch random people spar. Everyone moves around you, Tyla and Matty are on top of each other next to you on the bench, everyone walks around you to collect their water bottles from the table behind you.

“Aren’t you gonna spar, Y/N?” Tyla asks, fiddling with Matty’s hands.

“No,” you laugh.

“That’s against the rules.”

You know that voice, you hear that annoyingly angelic voice in your dreams.

Clarisse sits down next to you. You can hear Tyla smiling. Only a few of your siblings who can be trusted to keep a secret know about your wretched crush. You’re probably blushing.

“Uh, what?” you say, looking in her direction but not risking actually looking at her.

“You have to spar,” she says, like it’s painfully obvious, kicking out her legs.

“I’ll do it tomorrow,” you shrug.

“Sounds like you’re scared, Y/N,” Matty muses.

You shoot him a bored look. “Sounds like you’re whipped, Matty.”

Tyla is currently in Matty’s lap, her hands in his hair.

“Oh, definitely,” he says, turning towards Tyla with a sweet smile on his face and she coos and immediately attaches her face to his.

“Oh, Gods,” you mutter, turning away from the two of them having borderline sex on the bench.

Clarisse laughs.

You clench your fist, you feel like you’re gonna explode being so close to her and not able to climb up into her lap and kiss her like a woman starved.

“You still have to spar, you know.”

“Are you going to tell on me?”

“Hm, no. I won’t have to.”

You finally look towards her, if only because you’re confused, but she’s looking straight out at the the distance, where a certain centaur is making his way to the fields-

“Oh, fuck,” you hiss, immediately jumping up and scrambling for a sword from the pile behind you.

You turn around, hoping one of your siblings is free so you can spar with them-

The sword is ripped out of your hands.

“That one sucks,” Clarisse says, simply, while you stand there with your mouth open. She rifles through the swords. “Use this one instead.”

The one she hands you does seem a lot easier to hold. Not too heavy, not too light.

How the hell could she tell which one is best for you just by looking at you?

“Matty,” Clarisse says. “Chiron’s coming.”

Tyla and Matty both hop up, giggling at they make their way towards one of the marked circles.

As you’re left there with Clarisse, it suddenly hits you that after four years of simple indifference, she’s talking to you like she knows you. Or like she wants to know you.

You like her too much to question it. You want her too much to be bothered as to why she’s giving you five minutes of her time.

Clarisse walks away. You thought it was going to happen, so your heart feels this sort of heavy that is indescribable, but she turns around.

“Are you coming?” she asks, deadpan.

“Oh. Uh, yeah,” you say, sticking your sword under your arm and cracking your knuckles. With Chiron showing up, she leads you to the marked circle all the way at the edge of the field, the start of the woods, the very last one.

She stops and turns around, this sort of nonchalant but smug look on her face. She reaches forward and bats your hands away from each other with a single swat that leaves you so shocked from the feeling of her skin on hers that your hands fall to your sides.

“Stop that. You’ll hurt ‘em.”

Here, right in front of the trees, the sun shining through the gaps shines off of Clarisse’s tan skin and her bronze armor in a way that makes her look otherworldly.

Clarisse’s that kind of pretty where you just never want to stop staring at her. The kind of pretty where you just want to fade into her and be next to her; the kind of pretty where nothing compares to her but it just watches her too.

Like the sun behind her, it isn’t jealous, it just admires her and shines off her skin.

She’s smirking at you, her knees bending into an offensive position, her spear pointing at you.

“He’s watching,” she taunts, and you’re really not in the mood for a lecture and the loss of dessert privileges, so you copy her.

“I’m not the best-”

She spins forward, spear arcing toward you. You yelp, raising your sword up to block her spear. They slam together.

“You’ll do fine,” she smiles, so smug in a way that makes you want to slap her and kiss her all at once.

“Whatever,” you mumble as she pulls back.

But you feel a little more confident with her praise, launching a surprise attack. She seems a little shocked, but she blocks it, probably a bit closer than normal.

“Feisty,” she murmurs.

“What the hell does that even mean?”

She launches her own attack, more force behind it this time, and it’s harder to stop her, but you do, you push her back.

“It means you’re exactly like I thought you were.”

You frown, because what is she even saying, but she launches another attack, smiling brightly as you block it, her eyes never leaving your form.

It’s a blurry of your heartbeat in your ears, her smile, the clash of her spear and your sword, the rest of the field coming to life with the sound of metal on metal, wins and losses.

Your arm is growing heavy.

But you keep your eyes open, blocking her attacks and waiting for an opening you’re not sure will ever come.

Finally, she reveals her side, and you swing, your sword clanging as it hits her metal armor.

She looks down at your sword and then you.

When she looks up again, it’s never the same.

—-

“Did you let me win that first day?”

You’re in the woods with her, so many months after that first day, and it all still feels like it was yesterday. You’re laying on a blanket on the soft grass, facing each other, limbs tangled together and her arm around you.

“Hm?” she says, slightly sleepy.

“When we sparred?”

“Oh,” she smiles, yawns. “Yeah, I let you win.”

You gasp and hit her arm.

“Clar, that’s, like, horrible. Our relationship was built on lies.”

You’re the only person allowed to call her that.

She frowns. “It wasn’t. What are you talking about?”

“I was gloating over you for months, and you let me-”

“Okay, but, you still won. I just helped you a bit. That’s what a good girlfriend should do.”

“You were not my girlfriend then.”

“Yeah, but you wanted me to be. For how long? Four years?”

You roll yours eyes. “You bumped into me once and then became obsessed with me.”

She smiles against you as she kisses your forehead.

“Who wouldn’t?” she snorts. “Not my fault you bumped into me in a way no one else ever has, angel.”

“My love language is just bumping into people, I think.”

“Then you can’t bump into anybody but me. Or else I’d kill them, probably.”

“A true romantic.”

She wraps her arms around you, muscles flexing as she pulls you on top of her.

“Only for you, angel,” she says, eyes falling closed again. “‘M cold, be my blanket.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be all rough and tough?”

“Can’t be with you,” she yawns. “Love you too much. Now shush. I’m gonna fall asleep.”

“You big baby,” you mumble. “Big bad Clarisse needs to fall asleep with her girlfriend and get her full eight hours or else she’ll go on a rampage.”

“Damn right.”

Clarisse is the type of pretty that just makes you wanna fade into her. And you do, in the light of the rising moon, the light of the fading sun. You fade into her.

—-

y/n when clarisse helps her on her first day: wow, an angel 😍😍

clarisse when y/n bumps into her: wow, an angel 😍😍

ALSO CLARISSE CALLING Y/N ANGEL???? I THINK I’VE FOUND MY NEW OBSESSION Y’ALL

—-

taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies

[qrrieterisunnq]

Please write a John Marino smut since I miss him so much… I hope he’s fine in Utah recovering, maybe like y/n playing a nurse for him to “recover”? It’d be hilarious if he takes an extra recovery time to spend his time with his girlfriend at home🥴

Personal Nurse - John Marino

MINORS DNI - 18+ content below the cut — WARNINGS: sex scenes, fluff — SUMMARY: John Marino, recovering from shoulder surgery, shares an intimate moment with his devoted girlfriend, Y/N, as they reconnect physically and emotionally after weeks of tension. Their love and passion reignite, blending tenderness and fiery desire, reminding them of their bond's strength. — WORD COUNT: 3,3K

Pain is all John felt for the past few months after his shoulder surgery. His shoulder was mostly on fire, but in the last few weeks, he’s feeling less pain and feels ready to hop on the ice and play like he’s used to.

But the team’s medical staff had other ideas. “One more week, Marino,” they kept saying, like a mantra designed to test his patience. He’d spent most of his recovery pacing around his house, stretching his arm in exaggerated circles, and muttering under his breath about “wasted time.”

That’s where Y/N came in. She had taken on the unofficial role of his live-in nurse—not that she minded, really. John could be grumpy and restless, but he was also endearingly stubborn. Besides, she enjoyed the rare opportunity to fuss over him.

“You’re not skating yet,” she reminded him one morning, setting a steaming mug of coffee on the table. “And don’t give me that look. You’re still supposed to take it easy.”

John groaned, leaning back against the couch with an exaggerated pout. “I feel fine, though. Better than fine.”

Y/N arched an eyebrow. “Oh, yeah? You feel so fine that you don’t need your pain meds anymore? Or the physical therapy sessions I have to drag you to?”

He hesitated, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. “I mean… those are helpful. But come on, I’m bored out of my mind. If I don’t get back out there soon, I’m gonna lose my edge.”

“Your edge?” she teased, sitting beside him. “I thought the whole point was for you to rest and not wreck yourself again. Do you really want to deal with another six months of me bossing you around?”

John smirked, the corner of his mouth curling into that signature grin she knew too well. “I don’t know. I think I could get used to it. You’re a pretty cute nurse.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but her cheeks warmed. “Flattery won’t get you back on the ice any faster. Besides, I think you’re enjoying this whole ‘recovery’ thing more than you let on.”

He leaned closer, his good arm sneaking around her waist. “Maybe I just like having you around. Ever think of that?”

“Nice try, Marino. You’re not charming your way out of another week off.” She poked his chest gently, laughing at his exaggerated wince.

“Fine,” he sighed, resting his forehead against hers. “But only if you promise to keep me company. I’ll take extra time off if it means more mornings like this.”

Y/N smiled, her resolve softening. “Deal. But you’re still doing your stretches. No slacking.”

John huffed dramatically, sinking back into the cushions as though the weight of the world—or at least, the weight of not skating—rested entirely on his shoulders. He gave her his best puppy-dog eyes, the kind that usually melted her resolve.

“You’re ruthless, you know that?” he said, shaking his head with mock defeat. “I’m out here, helpless, recovering from major surgery, and you won’t even let me slack off for one day.”

“Helpless?” Y/N snorted, crossing her arms. “You’re like a toddler on a sugar high. The only thing helpless here is the state of this house if I leave you unsupervised.”

“Wow,” he said, clutching his chest dramatically. “You wound me.”

“Good.” She grinned, standing and reaching for his arm. “Now, come on, Mr. Helpless. Time for your stretches.”

John groaned again but allowed her to pull him up. She guided him to the open area in the living room, where she’d already laid out a mat for his routine. Despite his grumbling, she knew he secretly appreciated the attention.

As he moved through the motions—reluctantly at first but gradually loosening up—Y/N caught herself watching him. Even in his injured state, there was something magnetic about the way he carried himself, all lean strength and understated grace. It was a shame he couldn’t see how impressive he was, even off the ice.

“You staring at me?” John’s voice broke her train of thought, and she realized too late that she’d been caught.

“No,” she lied quickly, turning her attention to the clock. “I’m just making sure you’re doing it right. Don’t want you slacking.”

“Mmhmm.” He smirked, rolling his shoulder carefully before shooting her a playful glance. “Admit it. You’re impressed.”

“By you? Not likely,” she said, though the corners of her mouth betrayed a smile.

“Oh, come on,” he pressed, stepping closer. “I see that look in your eyes. You think I’m irresistible.”

“You’re delusional.”

“Maybe,” he admitted, standing in front of her now. His eyes sparkled with mischief, and his voice dropped just enough to send a shiver down her spine. “But you haven’t exactly been rushing out the door lately, have you?”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, refusing to let him get the upper hand. “Maybe I just like bossing you around.”

His grin widened, and before she could react, he’d scooped her into his good arm, pulling her close despite her half-hearted protests.

“Well,” he said, his voice low and teasing, “if I’m stuck here, I guess I might as well make it worth your while.”

“John—your shoulder!” she squeaked, though her laughter betrayed her concern.

“It’s fine,” he murmured, leaning closer. “But thanks for caring, Nurse Y/N.”

Her heart raced as his lips brushed against hers, the world narrowing to just the two of them.

Y/N tried to push away, half-heartedly, but John held her firmly—just enough to make her heart skip a beat without straining his injured shoulder.

“John,” she muttered again, though her voice lacked conviction.

“Yeah?” he asked, his lips hovering dangerously close to hers, his grin widening.

“Your physical therapist is going to kill me if you hurt yourself because of… this,” she said, gesturing vaguely between them.

“I’ll tell them it was an accident,” he teased, brushing a strand of hair from her face with his free hand. “Or maybe I’ll say my nurse was too good at her job. They’ll understand.”

Y/N couldn’t hold back her laughter, shaking her head. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“And yet, here you are,” he said softly, his voice dipping into that husky tone that always made her melt.

Before she could reply, he closed the gap between them, kissing her gently at first, then with a little more intent. She let herself sink into it for a moment, her hands resting on his chest, before reality nudged her conscience.

“Okay, okay,” she said, pulling back, her cheeks flushed. “You’re supposed to be recovering, not… whatever this is.”

“Pretty sure this counts as therapy,” John argued, smirking. “Emotional support is important, right?”

“Uh-huh. And what happens when you overdo it and have to stay out another month? You’ll drive me insane.”

“Is that a bad thing?” he asked, leaning in again, but she put a finger to his lips, stopping him.

“Yes,” she said firmly, though her smile softened the blow. “Now sit down before I have to explain to your coach why you’re still out.”

John sighed dramatically, dropping onto the couch like a petulant child. “Fine. But only because I don’t want to ruin my perfect recovery record.”

“Perfect, huh?” Y/N shot him a knowing look, grabbing a notebook from the table. “You mean the record where you complain through every stretch and refuse to follow half the instructions?”

“Hey, I’ve been improving!” he shot back, crossing his arms.

“Sure you have,” she said with a wink, flipping through the pages. “But don’t think I’ll go easy on you. You’ve still got a long way to go, Mr. Marino.”

He watched her with a lopsided grin, his heart swelling despite the teasing. Maybe he wasn’t quite ready to hit the ice again, but with Y/N by his side, he was starting to think that recovery wasn’t so bad after all.

John followed her instructions as she showed him how to do the exercise to help him recover quickly. It was clear he’s absolutely annoyed by the fact he has to do this but he followed her instructions just to watch her round ass moves with so elegancy and delicacy.

“Stop staring at my ass Marino!” she sighs turning her head around to sed him a glare.

“I am not!” John raised his hands above his head, grinning like a small boy. “Or am I?”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. “You’re supposed to be focusing on your form, not my… assets.”

John shrugged, the motion slightly restricted by his healing shoulder. “Can’t blame a guy for appreciating the view during such grueling recovery exercises.”

She turned fully now, hands on her hips, leveling him with a glare that only made his grin widen. “You’re impossible, Marino. Do you even want to get back on the ice?”

“Sure, I do,” he said, leaning lazily against the back of the couch. “But I’m starting to think this rehab routine has some hidden perks.” His eyes flicked pointedly downward, earning him a sharp smack on the shoulder—the good one, of course.

“Behave,” she said, though her cheeks flushed at the blatant way he was ogling her.

“Or what?” he challenged, his voice low and teasing.

“Or I’ll make you do an extra set of stretches,” she shot back, leaning in just enough to make her point. “No complaining, no shortcuts, and definitely no flirting.”

John raised an eyebrow, his grin shifting into something more devilish. “You think you’re the one in control here?”

“Obviously,” she replied with mock authority, folding her arms.

In a swift motion, John grabbed her wrist, tugging her down onto the mat beside him. She let out a surprised yelp as she landed unceremoniously, his good arm looping around her waist to keep her from escaping.

“Guess again,” he murmured, his breath warm against her neck.

“John,” she said, half-laughing, half-scolding. “You’re supposed to be-”

“Recovering, yeah, yeah,” he interrupted, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. “But you didn’t say I couldn’t multitask.”

Y/N squirmed, trying to maintain some semblance of professionalism, but the heat radiating from his body and the way his fingers traced lazy circles on her hip made it nearly impossible.

“You’re unbelievable,” she said, her voice breathier than she intended.

“And yet, here you are,” he whispered, turning her head gently with his hand so their eyes met.

Her resolve wavered for only a moment before his lips found hers, claiming them in a kiss that was all heat and urgency. Her protests melted like snow under the sun, her fingers instinctively threading through his hair as she gave in to the moment.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” she murmured against his lips, earning a chuckle that rumbled low in his chest.

“And you’re lucky I’m injured,” he teased, pulling her closer, “or I’d really show you how grateful I am.”

Her laugh was soft, but her eyes sparkled with mischief as she leaned back just enough to smirk at him. “Oh, don’t worry, Marino. When you’re fully healed, I’ll ensure you work twice as hard.”

John groaned dramatically, but the way he kissed her again told her he didn’t mind one bit.

“Twice as hard, huh?” John murmured, his voice dipping into that dangerously smooth tone that always unraveled her. His good arm tightened around her waist, pulling her flush against him. “Guess I’ll need you to supervise… closely.”

Y/N opened her mouth to respond, but whatever clever retort she’d planned was lost as his lips trailed down her jaw, grazing the sensitive skin of her neck. Her breath hitched, fingers curling into his shirt.

“John,” she managed, though it came out more as a whisper than a warning.

“Yeah?” he asked, his lips brushing the hollow of her throat.

“This isn’t—” She sucked in a sharp breath as his teeth grazed her collarbone, sending a shiver straight through her. “—part of the rehab plan.”

“Feels therapeutic to me,” he muttered against her skin, his hand slipping beneath the hem of her shirt to rest on the small of her back. “Don’t tell me you’re not enjoying this.”

Her silence was answer enough, and John smirked as he leaned back slightly, his eyes locking onto hers. “Thought so.”

She glared half-heartedly, her cheeks flushed and her lips slightly swollen. “You’re insufferable.”

“And you’re irresistible,” he shot back without missing a beat. His hand slid higher, fingers splaying against her skin, his touch both firm and teasing. “Admit it, Y/N—you like me better when I’m a little bad.”

Her laugh was breathless, her resolve crumbling with every passing second. “You’re lucky you’re injured, Marino. Otherwise, you wouldn’t stand a chance against me.”

“Is that so?” His smirk deepened, and before she could react, he flipped their positions, pinning her gently beneath him. His weight was balanced perfectly to avoid straining his shoulder, but the dominance in his stance was undeniable.

“Careful,” she teased, her voice dropping to match his. “One wrong move and you’re stuck in rehab even longer.”

“Worth it,” he replied, his voice low and gravelly. He dipped his head, capturing her lips in a kiss that left no room for argument.

Her hands slid up his chest, tracing the lines of his toned muscles before curling around his neck. The heat between them was intoxicating, but they both missed each other.

“John,” she murmured as his lips moved to her ear, his teeth tugging lightly at the lobe.

“Mm?” he hummed, the vibration sending another wave of heat coursing through her.

“We’re supposed to be taking it slow,” she reminded him, though her voice was shaky.

He leaned back just enough to meet her gaze, his eyes dark and full of promise. “Trust me, Y/N. I’ve been holding back. You don’t want me to take it slow.”

Her heart raced as his lips claimed hers again, his hand sliding up her thigh with a confidence that sent sparks shooting through her. For a moment, all thoughts of recovery and boundaries vanished, replaced by nothing but the heat between them.

John’s lips moved against hers with a passion that made her toes curl. His good hand roamed her body, fingers tracing the curve of her waist, pulling her closer until there wasn’t a sliver of space left between them. His kisses were hot and insistent, leaving her breathless and wanting more.

“You drive me crazy, you know that?” he murmured against her lips, his voice deep and husky.

Y/N smirked, her nails dragging lightly down his chest. “Good. Someone has to keep you on your toes.”

“Don’t worry,” he said, his lips brushing over her jaw, trailing kisses down her neck. “You do that just by walking into a room.”

Her laugh dissolved into a soft gasp as his teeth grazed her skin, his tongue soothing the spot immediately after. He kissed lower, his hand slipping beneath her shirt to tease the bare skin of her back. She arched into his touch, her fingers sliding into his hair and pulling him closer.

“Off,” he muttered, tugging at the hem of her shirt.

She raised her arms, letting him pull it over her head and toss it aside. His eyes darkened as they roamed over her, drinking her in like she was the most exquisite thing he’d ever seen.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he said, his voice almost reverent.

Her cheeks flushed under his gaze, but she didn’t have time to respond before his lips were on her again, searing and desperate. His hand slid up her back, unhooking her bra with practiced ease. She shivered as it fell away, his lips immediately descending to the newly exposed skin.

“John,” she gasped, her hands clutching his shoulders as his mouth closed around her nipple, his tongue flicking over the sensitive peak.

“Mm?” he hummed, his good hand sliding up her thigh, pushing her pants lower as he kissed his way across her chest to the other side.

“You’re so—” She broke off, a soft moan escaping her lips as his teeth grazed her skin, his hand squeezing her thigh.

“So what?” he teased, his breath warm against her skin as he leaned back just enough to slide her pants and underwear down in one smooth motion.

“So good at this,” she admitted, her cheeks burning as she met his gaze.

He grinned, his good hand tracing slow, deliberate circles on her inner thigh, getting closer to her core but never quite reaching it. “Oh, I’m just getting started, baby.”

Her breath hitched as his fingers finally slid between her legs, brushing over her most sensitive spot. He groaned softly, his eyes darkening even more as he felt how ready she was for him.

“You’re so perfect,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss her again, his lips devouring hers as his fingers teased her with agonizing precision.

“John,” she whispered, her hips bucking slightly against his hand.

“What do you need, baby?” he asked, his voice low and full of promise as he kissed along her jawline.

“You,” she said, her voice trembling. “I need you.”

He didn’t make her wait. Carefully, he removed the last barrier between them, his sweatpants sliding off as he positioned himself above her. His eyes met hers, the intensity in his gaze making her heart race.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he said softly, his lips brushing over hers.

She smiled, her hands cupping his face. “I’ll tell you if you’re not enough.”

That was all the encouragement he needed. Slowly, he pressed into her, his good hand gripping her hip as he moved with painstaking care. The feeling of him stretching and filling her sent a shiver through her entire body, her nails digging into his shoulders.

“God, Y/N,” he groaned, his forehead resting against hers. “You feel incredible.”

She couldn’t form words, her body arching into his as he began to move. Every thrust was deliberate, his pace slow and steady as he focused on her reactions. Her soft moans and whispered encouragement only spurred him on, his lips finding hers again as their bodies moved together.

Her hands roamed his back, her touch gentle yet urgent as she pulled him closer. “Faster,” she murmured, her voice breathless.

“Careful,” he teased, his lips brushing over her ear. “I don’t want to overdo it.”

“John,” she said, her tone carrying a hint of frustration that made him grin.

“Anything for you,” he murmured, his pace quickening slightly. The change sent a wave of pleasure through her, her back arching as she cried out his name.

“That’s it,” he said, his voice a low growl as he kissed her neck, his hand sliding down to grip her thigh and hitch it higher around his waist. “Let go for me, baby.”

Her nails dug into his back, her breaths coming faster as she neared the edge. His name fell from her lips like a prayer, her entire body trembling as the tension finally snapped. The release was overwhelming, waves of pleasure washing over her as he held her tightly, his own release following moments later.

They stayed like that for a while, their breaths mingling, their bodies still intertwined. Finally, John leaned back just enough to look at her, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from her face.

“You, okay?” he asked softly, his voice full of concern and love.

She smiled, leaning up to kiss him gently. “I’m perfect.”

“Good,” he said, grinning as he settled beside her, pulling her into his arms. “Because I think that was the best therapy session I’ve ever had.”

She laughed, resting her head on his chest. “You’re still doing stretches tomorrow.”

“Fair trade,” he murmured, his hand tracing lazy patterns on her back. “As long as you’re there to supervise.”

[p1utofairy]

PAC: “good karma my aesthetic. keep my conscience clear, that's why i’m so magnetic.” 🩰🍥🫧🪷

• what do you need to hear right now?

disclaimer ✩: take what resonates, leave what doesn't. i really appreciate y’all sm <3 for the patience, the love, the feedback and support. y’all are the greatest ever. i’m open to pac suggestions as well, so don’t hesitate to slide in my ask box! xoxo.

pile 1 ☂️ —

heyyy pile 1 ⭐️ what you need to hear right now is: release. relax and let go of any unhealthy attachments you may have to a certain person, place, idea or thing. i think you've been holding onto someone/something or the idea of what it could be/could’ve been. i pick up a feeling of yearning. you’ve been wanting something to work out in your favor, so you’ve been holding out…waiting to see if this situation will turn out how you anticipate. big 3 of wands energy. you’ve been waiting awhile now (i’m hearing weeks for some, months for others) for a clear answer. i think the more you wait around and stall things, the less likely things will go into motion. don’t chase, attract. remember that things will flow naturally to you and it’ll always work out in your favor no matter what — when one door shuts, several more will open. don’t put a time frame on it, you’ll get your answer/wish/clarity when you least expect. keep focusing on yourself and what you’re currently doing! whether that be going to school, work, the gym, studying, spending time with friends, etc. there’s a certain area in your life that you greatly want change to occur in, i’m heavily picking up for some that this is in regards to your love life, and again — i keep hearing that things will unfold in your favor when you least expect. very soon. you’re on the brink of something great, just don’t overthink it. relax, take a breath and just BE. your guides will handle the rest. love, prosperity and abundance are on the way to you. it just may not appear in the way you envision, which doesn’t mean it won’t happen at all. think about it this way, you might fantasize about coming across your dream person while you’re in a bookstore (on some ‘harry met sally’ type shit lol) so every time you go into a bookstore you’re kinda anticipating that to happen, but let’s say your busy at work or you’re frantically trying to prioritize doing your school work and studying and out of nowhere you look up and make eye contact with this person you’ve never seen before but you can feel the ✨vibe✨ like WHOA that’s…my person. i just see you being in your element when you meet this person pile 1, your mind will not be preoccupied/you will not have any precognitive thoughts — your person will just reveal themselves to you out of the blue. okay i feel like i’m getting carried away lol but everything’s gonna work out even better than you imagined pile 1 💗 trust that.

other channeled messages:

don't settle for less, pink + white by frank ocean, strawberry milkshake, chemtrails over the country club by lana del rey, leo sun, cancer moon, vedic astrology

pile 2 🦢 —

what's goodddd pile 2! i feel like you're in your self-love/healing era. you just bounced back from something and you did it with such resilience, ease and grace might i add. i'm hearing church girl by beyoncé, “i'm gonna love on me, nobody can judge me but me! i was born free.” okayyyyyy pile 2 i love this for y'all. i think some of you are really working on strengthening your throat chakra by speaking up for yourself and setting boundaries. just saw a meme that said “how i reclaimed the word ‘cunt’ by being one” OH WOW WOW WOW. i think you’re just over a lot of people and their bullshit, you may have just gotten out of a relationship, had a friendship breakup or recently left a job. good for you 💗whichever situation applies to you, i know it was draining and heavy on your shoulders. you finally feel like a weight has been lifted and you can spread your wings and be free. idk why i’m hearing some of you might be listening to a lot of lana del rey lately? (random but REAL af lol) i love that you know yourself at the core pile 2, you can’t fake it…if somethings not pleasing you or it’s not in your best interest, you know how to walk away and find something better. you don’t even know it, but you're inspiring to a lot of people. i think what you need to hear is: keep being your true authentic self. never forget where you came from and who helped you along the way, because i see that you have a big, bright and successful future ahead of you pile 2. you’re gonna be a star. “the diamond in the rough” from aladdin is what i’m hearing. you’ve got the wit, talent and empathy to get where you need to be in life. i wish you nothing but happiness and success pile 222 ♾️

other channeled messages:

hurricane by bridgit mendler, switch a n**** out by summer walker, olivia pope, sagittarius rising, cancer moon, pisces energy, save your tears remix by the weeknd & ariana grande, on my shoulders by sabrina claudio, red dress

pile 3 💵 —

hi pile 3 🤗 i’m getting rich vibes from y’all already lmfao, even if you aren’t (yet) there’s this energy of being very well-kept and liking the nicer things in life. you love you some good ol’ retail therapy. the message you need to hear right now is: spend your money wisely. i think you need to budget/save a bit more pile 3, you can sometimes go a bit overboard and indulge in the latest clothes, upscale restaurants or beauty products. you like nice things!!! there’s nothing wrong with that at all, you just need to make sure you’re prioritizing and balancing your earnings. some of you that picked this pile have very young energy lol like i can see you chilling at like 12am scrolling on youtube/tiktok and ooo’ing and aaa’ing at so many different product reviews and adding shit to your cart. some of you are tempted to buy stuff from the tiktok shop too lolll that was so oddly specific but i also feel like you've been big on protecting your peace lately. kickin’ back by mila j is coming to mind, “i’m kickin' back and i’m lightin' up doin' what the fuck i want. just rolled a wood, i’m feelin' good. just me, myself and this blunt.” i know das rightttt pile 3 🤭 you know your worth and you’re not settling for less than anything that you deserve — i love this.

other channeled messages:

luxurious by gwen stefani, need to know by doja cat, i just had an epiphany i need to go to tiffany’s, fenty gloss bomb, chanel chance, scorpio moon, catching flights not feelings

[bettysupremacy]

Hi!! I was wondering if you could do steve Harrington x reader where Robin accidentally tells Steve that the reader has a crush on him? I love your writing 🫶🫶

this request made me realize I’ve been seriously neglecting Steve, I hope this satisfies enough

The days been seriously slow.

Rainy and cold, nobody wants to travel in the wet to get a movie. They do it the day before. It’d been busy. Customers in and out, in and out, buying their families copies of their favorite film. Steve’s sure he never sees as much business as he does the day the forecaster predicts rain.

“I kind of miss customers.” He now picks at the patterned carpet lazily.

Robin scoffs. “I don’t.”

“But like,” Steve breathes. “we’re so bored.”

“At least we’re getting paid.”

He shrugs. Good point.

She shuffles, dipping her hand down to tug on his shoe. He pulls back, faux kicking her. They smile at each other.

“Truth, what’re you doing after work?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “I can’t drive around I’m busy.”

“Abandonment.”

“Stop!” Steve laughs, throwing carpet fuzz at her. “I’ve had this day booked for weeks.”

“Oooh,” She sips the slurpee she’d begged Steve to stop for before his shift obnoxiously. “do tell.”

“Y/n.” He murmurs.

The chill is seeping into his shirt sleeves, finding home over his skin briskly. Or maybe it’s embarrassment settling there. His eyes are heavy and he contemplates the reality of Robin letting him take a nap in the break room. She doesn’t look too trusting now.

“God, you guys are practically dating,” She complains. It’s not that she doesn’t like you, you’re her best friend. Just sometimes, she wants her other best friend to drive her around. “I’m sick of this. I introduced you!”

“We are not dating,” he laughs nervously. “you know that.”

“You practically are.” She shrugs. “Just ask her, I’m sure she’d say yes.”

“That’s not true.”

“She literally wouldn’t say no.” Robins annoyance bubbles out rather quickly. She didn’t sign up for abandonment and denial in one day.

Steve isn’t particularly perturbed by this, slumping over his knees dramatically. “What if.”

He murmurs it some more, quiet mantras of his unsurety.

“Dude stop.” She smacks his head. “I’ve known her for” She pretends to count on her fingers. “ever, if there’s one person she’d say yes to a date with, it’d be you.”

He peaks up from the solemn of his knees. “What’s that’s supposed to mean?”

Robin flinches, zipping her work friendly uniform jacket higher. “Just like,” she trails off. “you guys already know each other so well, I doubt she’d say no.”

He laughs a little. “You’re such a liar.”

“No i’m not!”

“And a bad one.” He giggles, attention undivided. “What do you know?”

“Literally nothing.” Robin moans. “We don’t even talk like that.”

“You’re so stupid!” Steve flicks her. “You’ve been friends ‘forever’.”

Robins palms soothe her eyelids. “She’s gonna kill me.”

This accidental defeat of admittance tingles in Steve’s fingers. Something he didn’t know he could feel until this confession of requited infatuation. Adrenaline pumps through his body, though he forces himself still for answers.

“Since when?”

“Awhile.” She understates for the sake of your pride.

“Wow.”

“Oh god,” She complains, almost whining. “Please don’t be stupid about this, she’s my only friend and I can’t-“

“I’m sitting right here, Rob.” He scoffs. “And I’m not going to be stupid about this.”

She peaks up, ashamed. “So what are you gonna do?”

“I mean shit,” he breathes. “I see her tonight.”

He checks his watch, standing up briskly to Robins horror. He cannot possibly be leaving her.

“What’re you doing?”

“I clock out two minutes ago.”

“No, no, no,” she whines, not making a move to get up. “do not leave me here alone.”

“I have places to be!”

“You’re abandoning me! Again!”

Steve walks straight into the break room, a new sense of pride bubbling in his chest. He’s gotta get his girl.

“Don’t be weird!”