#i’m sorry clo
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ohhtobeagooner · 1 year ago
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something i think football fans forget is that ur team should not be chock full of superstars. you need some silly geese in there too for good luck
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d0d0-b0i · 2 years ago
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sillies
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merriclo · 10 months ago
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Just wanted to make sure, did you get your gift for the secret santa event?
HEY SORRY I FINALLY WENT THROUGH MY ASKBOX AND i checked and no i dont have any notifs abt that :(
i’m srsly so damn sorry it took me this long to respond to this btw i totally forgot to maybe check my askbox
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witchywithwhiskey · 6 months ago
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a birthday ended with a bang
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pairing: best friend!steve rogers x female reader
summary: your best friend picks you up for some ice cream on his birthday on the fourth of july and things escalate.
warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), smut, sexual tension, kissing, dry humping/dry sex, dirty talk, praise kink, pet names (sunshine, baby), aftercare, very quick friends to lovers
word count: 4.1k
a/n: ooof i have been suffering from the worst writer's block and i seriously didn't think i was gonna be able to post anything for steve's birthday, which would've made me so sad. i finally got through the worst of it i think, as of yesterday, but so this was written in a rush and i'm sorry if it's not very good but i tried!!!! anyway i hope everyone has a happy steve's birthday ❤️🤍💙
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I’m picking you up in 10.
It was just after sunset on the Fourth of July, the sky still fading from a glowing indigo into the deep midnight blue of night, when the text from your best friend Steve Rogers came through. 
His text came as a surprise. Steve had been scheduled to work all day and he’d said he just wanted to go home and sleep after, so you hadn’t thought you’d see him. Instead, you had plans to celebrate his birthday on the weekend, but you’d have been a liar if you’d said you weren’t disappointed you wouldn’t get to see him on his actual birthday.
So you were excited by his text—but less so by the implication he would be taking you somewhere.
After all, you’d already gotten comfy and cozy in your bed, wearing a skimpy tank top and shorts you’d sleep in, and you didn’t want to get dressed again. Thankfully, you knew Steve wouldn’t care what you wore, but you were a nice friend, so as you dragged yourself out of your comfortable bed, you sent him a warning. 
i’m already in my pjs
By the time he replied, five minutes had already gone by. You’d managed to collect your keys and wallet from your bag, shoving them in a little wristlet that you looped around your arm as you stuffed your feet into some sandals. You read his text as you pushed through the door to your little cottage, prepared to wait the other five minutes for him in the cool July evening. 
Idc what you’re wearing. It’s my birthday and we’re getting ice cream.
You snorted a laugh, hearing your best friend’s bossy tone in your head, shaking your head to yourself at how much you loved it while you locked your door. Shoving your phone in your wristlet, you sat down on the top step of your porch and watched the neighborhood kids run through the yards along the street waving sparklers through the air.
Steve’s truck rolled to a stop in front of your small yard exactly 10 minutes after he’d texted you. An easy smile pulled up the corners of your mouth and you bounded down your wooden stairs, hurling yourself into the cab of your best friend’s truck.
“Happy birthday!” you cried as soon as you were inside. You tossed your wristlet on the dash and slid across the bench seat to throw your arms around Steve’s neck, hugging him tight while you pressed a smacking kiss to his cheek. 
His low laugh was like warm honey trickling down your spine, his breath skimming past your cheek and making goosebumps raise all up and down your arms. Your heart thumped in your chest and you buried your face in your best friend’s shoulder, ignoring the way your body was reacting—like it always did when you got too close to Steve. 
Seemingly unaware of your plight, Steve’s hand settled on your forearm, squeezing softly before his warm palm slid up to your shoulder, his other arm digging into the seat and wrapping around your waist to haul you closer. You let out a little squeak of surprise, burying your face further in his shoulder to hide the fact that you were enjoying the way he held you far too much. 
“Thank you, sunshine,” Steve rumbled, resting his head on the crown of yours as he hugged you back. For a long, long moment, the two of you sat entwined together in Steve’s truck, just enjoying the feeling of being close, though you suspected it meant much more to you than it did to your best friend.
Finally, when you realized the hug might be getting weird, and bordering on something more-than-friendly, you extricated yourself from Steve, smiling up at him as you broke the quiet. “Let’s go get some ice cream,” you said, your voice a little lower and raspier than normal as you stared into his achingly familiar blue eyes. 
A grin spread slowly across Steve’s face, and you felt your heart beat unsteadily in your chest at the devastating handsomeness of the expression. But thankfully Steve looked away and your lungs spasmed, begging you to breathe, so you sucked in some air while your best friend grabbed a ball of fabric from the backseat of his truck.
“Here, I’ve got the windows down,” he said, pushing the garment into your hands. 
Only when you shook it out did you see it was one of Steve’s hoodies, the navy blue sweatshirt massive to fit over your best friend’s broad shoulders. On the front, to one side and below the collar, Steve’s name was stitched into the cotton. Your heart gave another flip at the thought of wearing Steve’s name stitched over your chest. 
“I don’t want you getting cold,” your best friend murmured, his voice lower and rougher. When you looked back at him, Steve wore an expression you couldn’t quite interpret, his gaze almost possessive. It made something low in your belly squirm.
Swallowing thickly, you turned your attention to tugging the hoodie over your head, inhaling the familiar scent of Steve’s cologne. For the brief moment when your face was hidden, you closed your eyes in pleasure, feeling your body heat—from more than just the warmth of the sweatshirt. Then you pulled the fabric down over your head and stuffed your arms into the sleeves.
The hoodie was big on you, but you loved the feel of it, and you smiled up at Steve to show your appreciation. Your best friend was wearing a pleased smirk, his eyes a little hooded as they raked over the sight of you in his sweatshirt. 
“Looks good on you, sunshine,” he rumbled, something new in his tone that you’d never heard before. 
“Thanks, Stevie,” you whispered shyly, wrapping your arms around yourself. You felt a little awkward under the weight of his gaze, his eyes feeling like they were burning you up from the inside out, so you gave your best friend a goofy grin and said, “Now’m all nice and toasty.” 
Steve snorted a laugh, which broke the tension between the two of you, the mood in the truck lightening instantly. Shaking his head and wiping a hand over his face, Steve turned back to the steering wheel, and shifted his truck into drive.
You started to move into the passenger seat, intent on buckling up, but Steve’s big hand shot out and he grabbed your thigh, just below where the hem of your pajama shorts ended. His palm was warm, his fingers slightly rough with callouses, and you were immediately, acutely aware of the fact that Steve had never, ever touched you there before.
Heat crashed through your core as you sucked in a gasp of surprise. Instinctively, your fingers closed around your best friend’s wrist, holding him where he was, making sure he kept touching you. You stared down at his hand, your mind spinning a little at the sight of him clutching your thigh.
Steve’s fingers dug lightly into your thigh, almost reflexively, like he couldn’t help himself from seeing just how soft you were beneath his hand. Before you could do more than squeak out a quiet sound of delight, though, Steve pulled away and cleared his throat. The fingers of the hand that had been touching you curled and flexed like he already missed your softness.
“Want you close,” Steve muttered, his tone almost apologetic, like was asking for forgiveness for grabbing you so suddenly. His eyes dropped to somewhere near your feet and you watched as his adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. “Please, sunshine.” His plea was rough and so quiet you had a hard time hearing it over the sound of the fireworks your neighbors were setting off at random intervals.
“‘Course, Steve,” you said, your own voice soft and breathy, almost sounding sultry to your ears. You swallowed to wash away some of the throatiness, and tried to put on a light, friendly tone to steer you and Steve back to something normal—not whatever alternate universe you’d entered when you’d gotten in his truck. “You want birthday cuddles, you’ll get birthday cuddles.”
Steve let out a small snort and, as you watched, a tension you hadn’t realized had been there drained from his shoulders. Your best friend’s eyes raised back to yours, a flicker of something restless and reckless coursing through you while a small smirk tugged at the corners of his soft lips. 
“Yeah, sunshine, gimme some birthday cuddles.” 
When you’d said the words, they had sounded friendly, innocent even. But there was something in Steve’s voice that sent a shiver racing down your spine, heat simmering between your thighs. You told yourself he hadn’t intended his words to have such a reaction and pushed your body’s desirous response to the back of your mind as you shifted into the middle seat.
Carefully, you tucked yourself into Steve’s side, wrapping your arms around his bicep and clinging to him like he was your favorite stuffed animal. The bare skin of your leg brushed against the rough denim of his jeans and you trembled slightly, the sensation feeling far more erotic than it should. Steve’s hand landed on your leg just above your knee.
It was, ostensibly, a much more friendlier grip on you, but you felt arousal flare, hot and quick, in your core. Again, you ignored it and tipped your face up, planting your chin on the edge of Steve’s broad shoulder as you smiled up at him. Steve ducked down, kissing your nose and making you giggle, seemingly back to his normal self—your slightly silly best friend.
“Alright, let’s get some ice cream,” Steve rumbled, repeating your words while he gave your knee a squeeze, using his other hand to turn his truck around on your street and head in the direction of town.
There was a slight chill in the air as it swirled through the open windows of the truck cab, the heat of the July day having burned off and leaving only the coolness of night. Thanks to Steve’s hoodie, and the way your body was pressed into his warmth, you didn’t feel anything but comfortable, the breeze tickling your cheeks and making you smile. 
For a little while, you rode in silence with your best friend, but your mind kept straying to the feeling of Steve’s hand on your leg, to the memory of him gripping your thigh. You couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to have his big hands roaming all over your body, groping your thighs and hips…and other things. 
To distract yourself, you raised your voice above the wind and asked, “How was work?”
“It was fine,” Steve answered, his deep rumble sending a tremor of delight through your body. 
His eyes were on the road since he was navigating his truck through the town where you both lived, making turns to get to the small ice cream shop that would be open late for the holiday business. Still, Steve managed to shoot you a smile that made your insides flutter as he went on. 
“I would’ve much rather gone to the fair with you, though.”
A melty, gooey heat swirled in your belly and you squeezed his arm in yours, hiding a big, beaming grin in your best friend’s shoulder at his comment. When you managed to get control of yourself so you didn’t look like a lovesick fool, you raised your face again.
“We’re going on Saturday,” you reminded him, still smiling a little goofily. “Are you going to win me a new stuffie?” 
“Sunshine,” Steve started, using one hand to turn his truck into the small parking lot of the ice cream shop. “I’m going to win you all the stuffies.” His voice was warm and affectionate and you couldn’t help the way your heart beat unsteadily at his promise. Your best friend was none the wiser, though, as he parked his truck and turned to you. “C’mon.”
Steve helped you climb down from his truck, lacing his fingers through yours as you walked into the shop. It was busy, families and groups of friends getting some last-minute ice cream before heading over to the fireworks just outside of town. Steve and you fell into an easy conversation, your best friend asking you about your day to pass time while you waited in line. 
Once it was your turn to order, you asked for your favorite in a cone, then Steve got a couple scoops of dark chocolate in a sugar cone. You fought with Steve over who was going to pay. He insisted he should pay because he’d dragged you out of bed, and you argued it was his birthday and there was no way you were going to let him pay. 
Unfortunately, Steve’s arms were longer than yours and he was able to shove his card across the counter farther than you could. Grumbling about your stubborn best friend, you dropped a couple dollars into the tip jar and grabbed your ice cream. Steve followed you out, laughing at your poutiness and led you back to his truck, opening the driver side door for you and holding your cone while you got in.
Without being asked, you sat in the middle seat again, and held Steve’s ice cream while he drove, pushing it in his face whenever it started dripping. Both of you were laughing at the ridiculousness of him licking up the dripping ice cream while trying to drive by the time Steve pulled onto a dirt road that led up a hill beyond the edge of town.
After a few minutes, the trees parted into a clearing at the top of the hill and Steve rolled his truck to a stop, putting it in park overlooking the field where the town’s Fourth of July fireworks display would be. Wordlessly, you handed him his ice cream and the two of you sat in comfortable silence waiting for the show to begin while you enjoyed your sweet treat together. 
Steve finished his cone first, and you could feel his gaze on you while you licked up the last remnants of creamy goodness. You popped the last little bit of your cone into your mouth with a satisfied hum, your tongue licking sticky sweetness from your lips. 
“You have something on your…” Steve trailed off when you turned to him, his eyes dropping to your mouth and sliding along the curve of them. 
You felt his gaze like a physical thing, heat settling heavily in your core as warmth bloomed between your thighs. Then his thumb was following the the path of his eyes, swiping away some ice cream from the edge of your mouth that your tongue hadn’t been able to reach. 
Acting on impulse, and not questioning where it came from, you chased after Steve’s thumb, your tongue darting out to click the sweetness from the pad of his finger. Since your eyes were fixed on your best friend’s face, you watched his blue gaze darken and go heavy-lidded, his own mouth falling open with surprise. 
Heat filled your cheeks, making your face feel like it was on fire. “Umm,” you said, not knowing what else to say. 
It was on the tip of your tongue to apologize for licking your best friend, but just then, the first boom, pop and fizzle of fireworks sounded. Dazzling red light distracted you from Steve for a moment, dragging your eyes away to watch the fireworks display begin. You’d jumped at the first boom, the loud noise surprising you.
It was nothing, though, compared to the shock you felt when Steve grabbed your face, turned you back to him and ducked his head to capture your lips in a fierce kiss. Air filled your lungs as you sucked in a sharp breath, your body frozen while you sat there stunned, unable to do anything but feel the softness of Steve’s lips against yours.
Another sharp boom from overhead shocked you enough to make you jump again, and suddenly you remembered how to move. Your hands curled into the front of Steve’s shirt, clinging to him as you surged forward, pressing your lips harder against your best friend’s. 
Steve groaned low in his throat and your response seemed to unleash something within your best friend. Between one breath and the next, he was hauling you into his lap, your legs were straddling his thighs and his mouth was doing its best to devour yours.
You could taste the chocolate on his tongue as it slipped between your lips, exploring every inch of you and stroking against your own. Giddy excitement and heated desire swirled through your body, making you feel like you could float away as you and your best friend tasted and explored each other. 
Your hands uncurled from Steve’s shirt and slid up his shoulders, diving into the soft blond hair at the nape of his neck. He groaned again when you raked your nails softly against his scalp, his mouth going soft and slack as tremors of delight wracked his broad shoulders. 
“Fuck, sunshine,” Steve grunted, his hands pushing beneath the hem of the hoodie you wore so he could grope your hips. You rocked into him, wringing another moan of pleasure from your best friend when your heated core pressed against the bulge in his jeans. “You have no idea how long I’ve dreamed about feeling you like this.”
“Steve, I—”
Your response was cut short by your best friend’s teeth nipping at your bottom lip, making you whine and grind harder against his lap. Steve swallowed your sounds of pleasure, his big hands groping and kneading the soft flesh of your hips and thighs like he couldn’t get enough. It was better than you ever could’ve imagined.
“That’s it, sunshine, ride your best friend’s bulge,” Steve rumbled, a little bit of teasing in his tone. His lips trailed kisses along your jaw and down your neck. He sucked on the skin over your pounding pulse, pulling a whimpering sound from your mouth that was unlike any noise you’d ever made. “Ya gonna come on my cock, baby? Gonna come before we even take our clothes off?”
Your best friend’s filthy words poured over you like gasoline on a fire, turning the heat in your blood into a raging inferno. “Steve, god, please, I need…” You tried to form a coherent thought, your lips gasping for breath in between every false start, your hips working harder and faster as you chased your pleasure.
“Good girl, baby, take what you need,” Steve cooed in your ear, his hands slipping beneath your tank top and groping your tits. He plucked at your nipples, rolling the pebbled peaks between his fingers and making your eyes roll back in your head, your loud moans filling the cab of his truck and nearly drowning out the sounds of the fireworks from the field beyond. “Ride my bulge, sunshine, make yourself come all over my cock.” 
You were making a mess in your panties and shorts, your arousal soaking through the thin garments until you were certain you were leaving a wet spot behind on Steve’s jeans, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Not when your clit was rubbing just right against the bulge pressing against his fly. 
“Oh god, Steve, ‘m gonna…” 
Your hips worked frantically, humping against Steve’s cock through both your clothes while he murmured encouraging words in your ear and played with your tits until he figured out what made you squirm and writhe the most. Then he kept that up until you were suddenly at the edge.
“Come for me, sunshine, come for your best friend.”
Steve’s words were what did you in. His soft, murmured urging pushed you off the ledge and sent you tumbling into pleasure as you came for him.
Your arms locked around your best friend’s shoulders, nails digging into the back of his neck as bliss like you’d never known swept through your body, leaving you a shaking, trembling mess. Mindless moans and whimpers slipped from your lips, your hips still bucking on Steve’s lap as you rode out your release.
It wasn’t until Steve let loose a guttural groan, a warm wetness spreading through the jeans pressed against your bare thighs, that you realized he was coming too. You wrenched your eyes open, your gaze locking with his, seeing your own pleasure mirrored in his sparkling blue depths. Then your mouths were colliding, both of you having surged forward to meet somewhere in the middle.
The kiss was messy, mouths sliding and teeth knocking, both of you swallowing down the pleasured sounds of the other. Steve’s hands gripped your hips hard, fingers digging into your softness, helping you rock on his lap while you both rode out your releases and shuddered through the last remnants of pleasure together. 
Finally, when you were sated, your lips broke free and you pressed your forehead to Steve’s, closing your eyes as you tried to catch your breath. You could hardly believed what had just happened, and your mind struggled to catch up. 
“Christ, sunshine,” Steve rasped, his own chest still heaving shallowly. His hands were idly kneading your hips, like he was soothing any pain that might be there. “I really didn’t plan on doing anything more than getting ice cream for my birthday, but this was—wow.”
You giggled at the awe in Steve’s voice, leaning back enough that you could see him properly. His handsome, familiar face was slack from satisfaction, a dazed smile curving his mouth. Unable to help yourself, you ducked forward and sucked his lower lip into your mouth, making him groan like he was in pain. Beneath you, you felt his cock twitch, and you laughed again as you sat back.
“If you want, we can ditch the rest of the fireworks show and go back to my place?” you suggested, an eager smile on your face. 
Steve chuckled, wrapping his arms around your waist and leaning forward until every inch of your chests were pressed together. You could feel the steady beating rhythm of his heart against your sternum, making your smile soften as you melted in your best friend’s arms.
“Sunshine, the fireworks are already over,” he murmured before capturing your lips in a kiss. When he broke away, he left you panting. “And if you think I’m doing anything other than taking you home and taking you to bed…” He trailed off, getting distracted by pressing kisses against your jaw. 
You hummed in acknowledgement, but then a thought suddenly occurred to you and you had to bite back a laugh. “Your birthday is on the Fourth of July,” you began in a leading tone. “And you know what that means, Stevie?” 
Instead of responding, Steve sank his teeth lightly into skin over your thrumming pulse, sucking and licking like he was intent on marking you with his mouth. Your thoughts scattered for a moment, your head tipping to the side to give him better access while your fingers raked idly through his soft blond hair.
It took you a second, but you managed to finish your thought. 
“Because it’s the Fourth of July, we have to end your birthday with a bang,” you murmured, unable to stop yourself from giggling at your own joke.
Steve, on the other hand, groaned. His mouth abandoned your neck as he buried his face in your chest, reluctant laughter shaking his shoulders. Before you could poke him and get him to admit he liked your joke, Steve was flipping you onto your back, laying you down on his truck’s bench seat and slotting his hips between your thighs. His revived bulge bumped against your heated core, making you moan softly.
“Y’know what, sunshine? You’re right,” Steve rumbled, his blue eyes sparkling with humor and affection as he stared down at you. There was so much emotion in his gaze, it nearly stole all the breath from your lungs. “We’ll end my birthday with a bang.” His hands began to strip you out of the hoodie he’d given you to wear, his gaze hungry and determined. “We’re gonna see if I can make you scream louder than those fireworks.” 
Your laughter dissolved into a hot, hungry heat. You pulled Steve down at the same moment he ducked his head, your lips crashing together in a fiery kiss that fogged up the windows of his truck, your bodies working together toward the same goal.
Between you and your best friend, you made sure the Fourth of July—and, more importantly, Steve’s birthday—ended with a bang.
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orimuraa · 13 days ago
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𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖ Sorry, I love you - OT7
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꒰ 𝔖𝘺𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘴𝘪𝘴 ꒱┆enhypen after an argument ⨾
۶ৎ ot7!enhypen x fem!reader ┆angst, a bit of fluff┆mentions of arguing, petnames, kisses, crying┆ wc 958
⤷ 𝐲𝐞𝐣𝐢’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: hellooo! im back from the dead once again..sorry ive been so inactive 😓 school is really busy lately but i promise to be more active! please reblog if you enjoyed ^^
꒰ঌ ℬℴℴ𝓀𝓈𝒽ℯ𝓁𝒻 ໒꒱
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𝑳𝒆𝒆 𝑯𝒆𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒖𝒏𝒈 - 이희승
after the two of you said your peace, you went separate ways to just have time to think. you and heeseung rarely got into arguments, so it hurt a lot when you did. “baby?” a small voice came from behind the door as you hesitantly walked to the door. opening it, you saw your boyfriend, his big bambi eyes looking up at you apologetically. “oh baby i’m so sorry, i never meant to lash out at you,” he sighs, pulling you into a soft embrace at the sight of your red and puffy eyes. he knows that after arguments, it’s always best to just hold one another and talk through it. he loved you so much, he just couldn’t risk ever losing you.
𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑱𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒈 - 박종성
the moment jay's hurtful words slip past his lips, he's all over you, apologizing, kissing you, telling you how he never meant it. you know he didn't mean it and you know it was a mistake. but the words hurt. an argument that got out of hand and now jay was at your feet, profusely apologizing to you. you pull him up and into a tight hug, whispering into his chest that you know he didn't mean it and how you aren't mad. "princess, i love you so much. you're too good to me," he says, kissing the crown of your head and whispering sweet words of affirmation to make up for his cruel ones.
𝑺𝒊𝒎 𝑱𝒂𝒆𝒚𝒖𝒏 - 심재윤
it was late and jake had just gotten home from practice. one small sentence threw him off and lead to a stupid argument. the two of you were tired and in dire need of sleep, so the words being thrown around didn't entirely make sense. it ended up that jake needed some time to calm down and shower, while you took some time to also calm down in the living room. "sweets? i'm so sorry i said all those things, you know i didn't mean a single word. i'm just so tired and exhausted.." jake says, sitting down next to you on the sofa. no more words needed to be exchanged as the two of you held each other close, small "i love you"s coming from one another.
𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑺𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒏 - 박성훈
the words kept on replaying in your head as you sat alone in your bedroom, replaying the argument you had with sunghoon. it was something stupid that quickly escalated and ended with cruel words spewing out of sunghoon's mouth. you knew he didn't mean a single thing he had said but you still wanted him to explain himself. you both agreed that it would be best to calm down before talking again, so that's what you did. now, as sunghoon sat next to you, you saw him fiddling with his fingers, nervously looking down. "i'm sorry. i'm so sorry my angel," he struggled to say, but it was enough. even though it was short, it had so much raw emotion to it and you knew he meant it. sunghoon was never good with words so this was enough. you pulled him in for a sweet kiss, no words needed, just the comfort from each other.
𝑲𝒊𝒎 𝑺𝒖𝒏𝒐𝒐 - 김선우
sunoo and you rarely got into arguments, both of you opting to try and talk out your issues than continuously yell at each other. but sunoo had just come back from a hard day and he was easily agitated. he snapped at you, but the moment he did, he realized his mistake and rushed over to you, telling you that he was so sorry and he never meant to. yes it did surprise you that sunoo raised his voice that much at you, but you weren't mad. it hurt a bit yes, but you tried to realized that he must've really struggled earlier today. "just don't do it again sun. i'm not mad," you reassure him once the two of you have calmed down and now cuddled together on the bed. "i don't deserve you," he whispers, kissing your shoulders and pulling you in closer.
𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝑱𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒘𝒐𝒏 - 양정원
when you and jungwon got into arguments, it always ended with the two of you laying together on the bed and talking it out gently. jungwon hated having to raise his voice at you and never meant the cruel words that accidentally slipped from his lips. he always apologized with sweet words of affection after you both calmed down and were ready to talk to one another. if it ever got really bad to the point where you cried, he would spend the whole day holding you and beating himself up for making you cry. he never wanted to hurt you and he would cover you in kisses to make up for it. despite your clashing opinions, during the aftermath of the argument, you would always hear the other person out and let all the thoughts out, wanting to end the argument. he loved you so much and he hated arguing with you, so he always tried to keep the peace as much as possible.
𝑵𝒊𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒎𝒖𝒓𝒂 𝑹𝒊𝒌𝒊 - 西村 力
riki rarely got pissed at you, but there were times where the two of you would argue and since he always had a strong opinion, it was hard for him to back down. with the members, he was hot-headed during arguments, but with you, he always tried to calm down and hear you out. he didn't like fighting with you and he especially didn't like it when the fights got out of hand and tears would drip down your pretty face. he would immediately apologize, kissing away you tears and whispering apologies to you, calming the both of you down. once you and him were okay again, you would apologize and the two of you would spend the rest of the day cuddling and just clinging together.
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𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬: @en-diaries, @k-films, @k-nets
⚘. Perm taglist: @vmpivory, @yuvany, @seozii, @pinknjm, @greentulip, @jomisu, @nxzz-skz, @ancnymcnzjy
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httpdwaekki · 6 months ago
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sleepy | s.c.
summary: you may be tired but you're not passing up the opprotunity to spend time with your favorite boy.
wc: 1.1k
warnings: food is mentioned but other than that just lots of fluff :3
a/n: i haven’t written for my favorite boy in a while and my bub @giddyfatherchris asked for soft binnie so long ago (I’M SO SORRY🤧) so i wrote this lil thing for her <3. i did get lost in the sauce but what else is new. anyway i hope you all enjoy, remember to eat, drink water and take your meds, ily <3.
my library
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(pictures are not mine, credit to owners!)
when changbin had asked if you wanted to come to the studio while him, chan and jisung recorded, you jumped at the opportunity.
however what you didn’t account for barely sleeping the night before and working a 10 hour shift before joining them at the studio. but you withheld that information from binnie because he would’ve forced you to go home and you’ve been looking forward to this.
so here you were, comfy as you could be on the couch in the back of their studio as you listened to your favorite boy sing his lines. his voice was slowly lulling you to sleep with each passing second.
you hadn’t even realized you had fallen asleep until you heard his soft voice, “baby.” your eyes flutter open before focusing on the man in front of you. “hi bubba.” you stretch, giving him a sleepy smile. “hi my sleepy girl.” he smiles back. he was kneeling next to you, his hand placed on your hip, thumb rubbing gentle circles.
you look behind him to find his two counterparts gone, “where’d the boys go?” you ask, sitting up, stretching once more. “they went to get food, they said they’d pick us up something too.” he moves to sit next to you, placing his hand on your thigh.
“that’s sweet.” you mumble, placing your head on his shoulder. he hums, placing a kiss to your head before laying his head on top of yours.
“why so sleepy, hm?” you wrap your arms around the one he has on your thigh, relaxing further into him. “just a long shift,” you yawn. “plus i didn’t sleep all the good last night.” he lifts his head, looking at you. “what?”
you lift yours, looking to him, “what?” you furrow your eyebrows, eyes searching his. “why didn’t you tell me?” he asks softly. “you didn’t have to come, bunny, you could’ve gone home and slept.” he says, concern and worry laced in his voice.
you shake your head, “i know but i wanted to be here, i just,” you pause, taking his hand in yours. “i never get to see you and i’d rather be here with you, napping on this stiff couch than be home in my bed without you.” 
his eyes soften, before squeezing your hand, “you’re lucky you’re cute.” he mumbles, his cheeks burn a pale pink, small smile on his lips. “what?” you laugh. “aw, are you blushing?” you pinch his cheek softly, teasing him. 
“yah! stop that!” he exclaims, pushing your hand away. “ you loove me, binnie loooves me.” you tease, moving yourself to his lap, poking at him. “yah!- stop- y/n!” he manages to get out between laughs, before turning his attacks onto you.
“yah! binnie- no no- stop!” you squeal, laughing as he starts tickling your sides. “hey! hey! binnie please! truce, truce!” you giggle as he finally relents his attacks. 
you finally catch your breath, looking into his eyes. you place your hands on his cheeks before giving him a kiss. “i love you, you know that right?” he smiles before pulling you into another kiss. “i love you more, baby.” he mumbles against your lips.
you giggle before leaning into him, his arms wrapping around you.
“alright wrap it up love birds.” jisung claps as he bursts through the door, chan following behind him. “jisung!” chan chastises him, “i told you not to do that! she might’ve still been asleep!” he places the bag on the table in the middle of the room before turning to you.
“sorry about him.” you giggle shaking your head. “it’s okay.” moving to sit next to binnie, missing the small pout on his lips. chan carefully moved the table closer to the couch as han pulled two of the computer chairs to the table before taking a seat.
chan started handing out the food, as han took a seat at one of the chairs. 
everyone started to dig in, binnie, han and chan fell into conversation about the track they were working on, you silently watching and listening as they talk. once you were full, you laid your head on bin’s shoulder, just enjoy the background noise.
after a few moments, you had fallen asleep once more, soft breaths leaving your lips. once everyone was done eating, chan collected everyone’s trash quietly before him and han went back to the computers.
you awoken once again by a soft shake, “hm?” you lift your head, taking in your surroundings. “‘m sorry.” you yawn, rubbing your eyes. “it’s okay baby, we’re just got a couple more things to do then we can go, okay?” you nod your head, yawning once again, before he pats his lap.
“lay down baby.” 
“don’t you have to record?” he shakes his head, “nope i’m all done, i just wanna wait to hear how everything sounds before we go.” you nod, laying down, making yourself comfortable on his thigh.
you fell asleep in record time, soft snores leave your lips, as he mindlessly drew shapes on your arm. you stayed like that for a bit, letting the boys wrap up before you woke up once more, in binnie’s car, pulling up to your complex.
“was i out that bad?” you ask stretching out. “baby, you were out cold, you didn’t even flinch when i picked you up.” he laughs, glancing over to you. “oh god, i’m sorry.” you groaned, covering your face.
“it’s okay,” he places a hand on your thigh, “you’re tired, i would’ve preferred you to have been home getting rest, but i’m glad you came.” he gives your thigh a squeeze, sending you a cheesy smile.
“i am too.” you take his hand in yours, placing a kiss to the back of his. he puts the car in park before helping you out of the car. he locks the car before heading up to your apartment. you unlock the door, both of you discarding your shoes at the door.
you both make your way to your room, luckily binnie was in sweatpants and a big t-shirt so he was already comfy. you quickly took off your jeans, opting for no pants, binnie took off his shirt before tossing it your way.
“thank you.” you give him a sleepy smile before ditching your shirt and bra, pulling his shirt over your head. he had already set up your bed so you can slip right under the soft blankets. once under the blankets he opened his arms, you fell into him, your whole body relaxing.
“goodnight, my sleepy girl.” he whispers before placing a kiss to your temple. “goodnight, bubba.” you mumbled, placing a kiss to his soft chest, before both of you fall into a peaceful slumber, wrapped in each other’s arms.
do not repost
p.s. likes/reblogs are never expected but always appreciated <3
p.p.s my taglist is also open <3
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hysteria-things · 10 months ago
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i REALLYYY need a sub matt fic plsss i read the one when he gets hard from seeing her in a bathing suit but can u do one where the triplets are like filming a video and she like like bends down to get something and sees how flustered it makes matt so then she just continues to do stuff like that like stand in front of him and "accidentally" backing up into him yea like stuff like that u know the rest 😁😁😁 (if so could u pls add a little bit of a mommy kink obviously if not that's totally fine)
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PLEASE ME
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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: sub!matt x reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: while filming a video with the sturniolo triplets, you notice matt acting strange so abruptly. when you realize what it’s about, you want to take advantage of it.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: FILTHY, unintentional teasing lol, handjob, p in v, mommy kink, begging kink, praising, a little degradation, overstimulation, unprotected sex (don’t do that!), breeding, ROUGH
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 912
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: these requests are literally all the same LMAO
i’m sorry if the mommy kink isn’t RAGING for some reason typing that out makes me cringe a little😭
EDIT: hi second anon i’m very sorry i forgot to put the tata sucking that’s so my bad💔
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matt couldn’t help but stare. the boys decided to go roller skating for fun and film for wednesday’s vlog. currently, matt’s at the booth you guys picked out to rest while his brothers are still on the floor.
you wanted to rest your feet as well, so for now, you’re in charge of filming the two over the loud music and other people.
he watches as your body is hunched over the wall dividing the rink to the main area, your skirt lifted ever so slightly. you look so attractive to him, his pants tightening as he looks in your direction.
“that’s good for now, thanks y/n!” chris says as he skates by, giving you a thumbs up.
your giggle fills matt’s ears, his hips having a mind of their own. he thrusts softly into the edge of the table, whining lowly.
“are you alright?” you question, now standing in front of his face.
his eyes are wide like he’s scared. you have a look of genuine fear on your face because he’s been acting fine all night until this moment. “holy shit, matt. seriously, are you okay?”
“i-i need to use the bathroom.” he stammers, quickly getting out of his skates and speed-walking to the other side of the building.
“matt, hold on!” you call out, but he ignores you. you stumble to get your skates off, sprinting after the boy.
catching up to him as he’s about to enter the boy’s room, you grab his wrist and turn him around. his eyes are tearing up as if he’s about to start crying or something. “matt, what the hell?”
“it hurts.” he pouts, looking down at the ground.
face visibly confused, you try to figure out what the fuck he’s talking about. “what hurts?”
he slowly removes his jacket from in front of his pants, revealing the raging boner through his jeans. “oh.”
his lip quivers, still avoiding eye contact from the embarrassment. “it hurts so fucking bad.” he whines louder.
honestly, you feel bad for him, but that doesn’t mean you still can’t help… right?
before his brain can comprehend what’s going on, you push him into the restroom and lock the door, laying him down on the ottoman that’s in the center of the spacious room.
biting your lip, you bring your hand down to the inside of his pants, palming him through his underwear. he moans desperately, a wet spot forming from the pre-cum.
he’s so sensitive that he’s twitching already, and that’s your sign to wrap your small hand around his dick, moving up and down.
“what a pretty boy, you are.” you coo, his eyes fluttering back with a positive hum. taking your thumb, you move it on his swollen tip. his poor dick is aching for a release, or even better, to be inside of you.
you feel him tighten, moving your hand faster and faster with each pump. squirming rapidly below you, he sticks his tongue out from the pleasure. “i’m gonna cum!” he moans.
you tut. “ask.”
he mewls, eyes closing shut while panting uncontrollably. “please let me cum, mo—”
you smirk amusingly, knowing damn well what was going to fall past his lips. “who?”
sniffling, he now looks at you with a pleading face. “can i cum, mommy?”
giving permission, he spurts his hot liquid down his shaft, but you don’t stop. you keep pumping, hovering over him and slipping your panties to the side with your free hand. “such a good boy.” you praise.
he loves that.
matt hisses once you start to bounce slowly on his cock, still feeling stimulated from his high. it hurts him, but it feels too good at the same time.
his mouth hangs wide, eyes rolling to the back of his head when you start to gradually get faster.
whines and whimpers echo along the walls. thank goodness the music is so loud outside, otherwise people will be able to hear how pathetic he sounds.
you moan too, but not as loud as he is. his voice mind as well be gone by the end of this.
the way your walls engulf him perfectly rubs him the right way, biting his lip and whining nonstop. you whisper praises into his ear, knowing that it gets him closer.
“mo-mmy.” he says high-pitched. “please let me cum i-inside you. please, mommy.”
the begging has you clench, lips ghosting his. “you’re so pathetic right now, i love it.”
eyes crossing, he spills deep into your cunt you can feel it in your stomach. he shakes his head frantically. “e-enough. it hurts too good!”
“come on, baby.” you kiss him sloppily, hands tangling in his hair and tugging at it in the process. “you don’t want mommy to milk you dry?”
tears start trickling down his cheeks, and cries and sobs of pleasure enter your mouth as he tries to kiss you back.
the previous orgasm still leaks, but another one comes rushing in. he’s cumming so much to the point where you’re full, and the rest smears out of the sides of your pussy.
moaning one final time, you release what you were holding around him.
he twitches at the slightest touch, eyes still crossed from the ecstasy that flowed through his body in the short amount of time.
it’s crazy to think about, but you were best friends at the beginning of the night. now the night ended with you pumped full of his cum.
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𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!
@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @sturnolio-luvs @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hertvgirl @whoreforchrissturniolo @r4iyaa @sturniolotriplettoplover @mattybswife @freshsturns @loverrsposts @sturnlcvr @elliesturniolo1 @tpvmz @user283926392 @lalalands86 @sukiipjs @sturniologirl813 @leahrab @chrissturniolosslut @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @luv4kozume @ivyyyyyysposts @mirxcle1 @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @mattsdollie @catalina-island @mbsbaby @pinkfarts @slut4mattsturn @thesturniolos @vickeyzloserz @nononopenono1 @bitchydragonparadise @gdsvhtwa @hrt-attack @bellasfavbisexual @dwntwn-strnlo
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rose-pearls · 11 months ago
Text
Lost without you
I had an idea this morning and I wrote it until I realised that his had become quite long but hopefully you enjoy this!! Reader is Percy, Annabeth's and Grover's age and is Luke's sister. I am working on requests that I received and my requests are still open if you have any!
Summary: As Luke's sister you had only seen the best in him but as the identity of the lightning thief comes to light your whole world breaks down. (Brother!Luke & Sister!reader, Percy Jackson x reader)
Main taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187, @nyx2021, @thestarspangledcaptain, @kmc1989 (open)
Percy Jackson Taglist: @niktwazny303, @abbersreads (open)
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The quest had been hard, harder than you could have ever imagined but in the end you did manage to complete it. The only thing you could hope was that Sally Jackson would be returned and that Percy would be able to see her once again. 
There was a weird atmosphere at camp, everyone was ready to celebrate when Percy came back but you couldn’t stop watching Clarisse. You had told your brother that she was the lightning thief and yet she was still here, parading around with her siblings.
“Stop watching her,”, you hear someone say softly and you turn around to find Luke smiling at you softly.
“Sorry, I just can’t help it,” you tell him, and he nods slowly before sitting down next to you.
“What is going through your mind?”, he asks after a few seconds of watching a few campers bringing the fireworks to the lake.
“It just seems too easy,” you whisper and Luke frowns at your words.
“What do you mean?”, he says, looking slightly worried but you just shake your head.
“The fact that Clarisse could be the lightening thief. It seems too easy, like someone is trying to make her the thief when she didn’t do it,” you tell him and as you turn to look at him you find a somber expression on his face, but there is some sort of sadness in his eyes that you just can’t place.
“But I’m probably spiraling, I didn’t get enough sleep,” you tell him, and Luke seems a little bit relieved at your words before throwing his arm around your shoulders and bringing you closer. 
“Don’t worry, we’ll get to the bottom of it. But right now, you just need to relax and enjoy the celebration. Just be a kid for one moment,”, he tells you with a soft smile, and you nod in agreement after letting out a sigh. 
“I missed you,” you say, and Luke’s smile turns sad for a moment before bringing you closer and dropping a kiss on your forehead, lingering as if this would be the last time in a long time, he would be doing this.
“Missed you too little sis,” he whispers, and you can’t help but smile at the words.
“Not so little anymore,” you tease him, and Luke lets out a laugh at your words.
“You will always be my little sister, you can’t escape it,” he tells you and you laugh softly at the words, a familiar warmth envelops you at the words. 
You hadn’t really known your father, after Luke had yelled at him, he had disappeared like thin air. The only family you had was your mother, Luke, Annabeth and once Thalia. But the list had grown over the past week, Percy and Grover becoming close friends, even if you couldn’t help but see Percy in a different light. He was handsome, every person at camp could tell you that but it was his personality that made you slowly fall for him, his unwavering loyalty and that true kindness. 
“Percy is back!”, Annabeth yells as she arrives and you quickly jump up at the words, making Luke look at you in surprise and Annabeth with a knowing smile. You blushed at the look the daughter of Athena gave you, the both of you had talked about your little crush once you had gone back to camp. The first night back you couldn’t sleep, and it seemed as if Annabeth couldn’t either because the two of you found yourself at the lake, whispering about everything you could think of.
The clapping and cheering of the campers brought you back from your daydream and Annabeth took you by the hand to see where Percy was, Luke following close behind. There he was, looking surprised at the cheering, but still moving forward and you had an urge to go and hug him but as you felt Luke presence behind you, you felt unsure, until Annabeth pushed you slightly forward.
Percy seemed relieved at the sight of you, but you told yourself it was because he could also see Annabeth behind you. The cheers seemed to get louder as you brought him into a hug, his arms quickly wrapping themselves around you, holding you close. There was that familiar smell of the ocean, that always seemed to cling to him.
“Do you see her?”, you can’t help but ask and you can feel Percy’s confusion until her whispers Clarisse’s name.
“What is she doing here?”, he whispers, and you shake your head.
“Not here, we’ll talk about it in the cabin,” you tell him and Percy nods as you slowly let go of him, not seeing the disappointed look that appears in Percy’s eyes. Annabeth joins the two of you and she quickly brings Percy into a quick hug. You turn to look at your brother, who has a somber expression on his face, his eyes hard but they soften at the sight of you watching him.
“Why is she still here?”, Percy asks as the four of you find yourself in the Hermes cabin, Luke had quickly joined you after you left the celebrations.
“Camp was a mess when you weren’t here, everyone was ready to fight each other. An accusation against Clarisse,”
“Without proof,” Annabeth adds, making Luke nod in agreement.
“Exactly, without proof, it would’ve lit this whole place on fire,” Luke tries to explain, and you nod in agreement, people had seemed tense when you had come back.
“Now you’re back, you saved the world by stopping the war,” a proud smile appears on your lips at Luke’s words and Percy somehow stands straighter, he had always looked up to Luke.
“It’s time to tell Chiron and clean up this whole mess. I told him that we wanted to meet him away from the celebration, so that no one could hear us, especially Clarisse supporters,” Luke explains further, and you can’t help but have a bad feeling, but you brushed it away, thinking that it was just the lack of sleep that made you paranoid. 
“I’ll keep an eye on Clarisse while you are gone,” Annabeth says and Luke nods in agreement.
“The both of you can do that,” Luke says while looking at you and you quickly agree.
“Of course,” you tell them, trying to smile reassuringly and it seems to work, only Percy looks at you with a worried gaze, but you ignore it.
“Great, then we will meet back here. Ready?”, Luke asks Percy and the boy nods, looking confident as the two of them leave towards the clearing.
--
Annabeth and you had been watching the Ares kids, Clarisse at the center of the circle, talking and laughing with her siblings.
“Annie, I have a bad feeling,” you whisper, and she looks at you in surprise, but there is something in her eyes that make you think she understands what you are saying.
“About Clarisse?”, she asks, and you nod slowly, trying to find the words to explain it all.
“Don’t worry, she won’t do anything to us and if she tries, we will be able to defend ourselves,” she says but you shake your head at her words.
“Clarisse being the one to steal the master bold is too easy, it’s like a trap to hide the real person behind it. I can’t stop thinking about it, but it just doesn’t make sense that she would steal it,” you explain and Annabeth seems to think for a moment, her eyes focused before she looks at you with wide eyes.
“Who could be the one that stole it?”, she asks, and you shrug your shoulders.
“I don’t know, I just can’t stop thinking that there is something wrong here,” you tell her, and she nods slowly.
“We need to find Luke and Percy, hopefully before they speak to Chiron,” she says and there is an urgency in her tone as she makes you stand up from your hiding place. 
The woods are quiet, the only sound resonating through it are the distant sounds of fireworks and cheers from the campers. You see Luke and Percy standing there but before you can go there, Annabeth stops you, a finger on her mouth to tell you to stay quiet.
“The reason Clarisse is still here is because you never said anything to Chiron. Did you?”, Percy says, and you feel breathless for a moment, Annabeth looks at you with equally worried eyes.
“You couldn’t. Because you knew that Clarisse didn’t steal the bolt. You did,” the words linger in the air, and you feel like you are suffocating on the words you just heard. You wait for Luke to say it isn’t true and that Percy got it all wrong.
“You worked with Ares to plant it on me, so when the shoes you gave me would pull me into Tartarus the bolt would be delivered to Kronos,” you feel sick at the words and Annabeth looks as devastated as you. You pray for this to all be just a dream, you even pray to your dad to wake you up from this nightmare.
“I didn’t think you would give them to Grover to wear,” Luke says, in a voice that you had never heard before and you want to throw up at the words. You still remember the deep fear that had gripped you when Grover started being pulled towards the large hole. Annabeth has tears in her eyes as you shake your head, your ears ringing as you hear Luke continue his speech. 
You knew that he hated the gods, for what they did to all of you, for what your father did to your mother. But you never thought he would do this, betray camp and follow Kronos.
“You are being manipulated by Kronos,” Percy tells him, and you desperately wait for Luke to realize his mistake. 
“No, he opened my eyes,” Luke says, and you don’t recognize the voice of your older brother.
The sound of swords hitting each other make you look up, holding Annabeth’s hand to try and reassure her and you at the same time.
“Our parents aren’t perfect, but they are trying. I met your dad,” Percy says and before you can even think of warning Percy about speaking of Hermes to Luke you hear the sound of swords clashing against each other. 
You want to get up and put an end to this, but Annabeth holds your hand tighter and shakes her head as you look at her.
“I need to help him,” you whisper, and she shakes her head, sadness in her eyes.
“Who? Luke or Percy?”, she asks, and you feel like the world has shattered around you.
“Percy,” you whisper, and she nods in agreement, but she looks pained at the words. You don’t realize tears are streaming down your face until a tear falls on your hand, making you look at a teary-eyed Annabeth.
“I’m sorry,” you hear Percy say and you lift your head up just in time to see Luke slice open Percy’s arm, making you feel sick. 
Your dagger flies quickly through the air, making both boys look at you. Luke seems pained at the sight of you, like you are piercing your dagger through his chest, like you were the one betraying him.
He whispers your name; sadness covers his words and for a moment you wonder if this is your big brother again. The one who had helped you through the nightmares, who had protected you from every monster you had ever seen.
“This is not what it looks like,” he says, his tone now pleading but you shake your head.
“I heard everything Luke,” you tell him, your voice breaking over the words and Annabeth appears next to you, making Luke look even more pained.
“You made us all turn against an innocent person, when you were the one who had stolen the bolt,” you tell him, and he tries to speak but you shake your head.
“Don’t try to tell me you can explain this, because even if you did it would always come back to the fact that you were the one who did it,” you tell him, and Luke has tears in his eyes at your words.
“I did this for us, to stop the Gods from being able to do whatever they wanted with us,” he tries to say but you scoff at the words.
“You did this for yourself!”, you scream, feeling like someone is killing you from the inside.
“Don’t come here and tell us that you did this for us when you nearly send us all to our deaths with your plan,” Luke closes his eyes at your words, his hand wrapped tightly around his sword.
“Don’t do this, don’t go through with this,” you plead, trying to make him understand that there is still another way.
“I have to, I won’t go back to just doing whatever the Gods want us to do,” he says, in a voice that is so cold that you feel lost.
“But you can join me, we can escape this all and go make a better world. You and me, like old times,” Luke says, and you feel tears falling down your cheeks as Luke gets closer to you, there is a softness in his eyes that always came when talking to you.
You don’t know what to say, you don’t want to lose your big brother, not when you practically lose your mother every time you see her. There is a soft whisper of your name, and you turn to see Percy looking at you with pleading eyes, he is holding his arm, where he had been hit by Luke.
“I can’t, I can’t join you,” you say to Luke, and it is perhaps the hardest thing you ever had to say to your brother. But watching his emotions change before your eyes from a soft look to pure rage made it all worse.
“So, you are choosing him, a guy you haven’t known for more than two weeks over your brother?”, there is sarcasm dripping over his words but the anger radiating from him makes you take a step back.
“I don’t want to Luke, but you give me no choice,” you tell him, hoping that your bother will come back to his senses, but he lets out a cold laugh that makes you shiver.
Percy quickly comes in front of you, putting you behind him to make sure you are safe, and Riptide is in his hand. His other hand is still holding you behind him and you look at Annabeth who takes out her own dagger and points it at Luke.
Your brother looks pained at the sight of his other sister turning against him and for a moment you think that he will be fighting the two of them before he runs and disappears into the portal. You look at it, watching the light from the sign he had carved disappearing, and you feel lost, like you had just lost a part of yourself.
“I’m sorry,” Percy says, and you turn to look at him with wide eyes, he looks sad, and you could understand why, the man he had looked up to turned out to be the bad guy all along.
“Don’t be, it’s not your fault,” you tell him before turning to look at Annabeth who has finally let the tears fall down her cheeks.
“I’m sorry Annie,” you tell her before bringing her into a tight hug, the girl holds you just as tight and the two of you stay like that for a moment, trying to put yourselves together again.
“I’m sorry too,” she whispers, and you just squeeze her in response before letting her go and wiping away the tears that had fallen on your cheeks.
Percy has an awkward smile as you turn back to him, but you just step towards him, taking his arm in your hand and looking at the wound in worry.
“You should have this checked out after we talk to Chiron,” you tell him as you brush the skin just under it, but as the boy doesn’t answer you look up to find him looking at you with wide eyes and rosy cheeks.
“I will,” he says after clearing his throat and you nod slowly, feeling a blush appearing on your cheeks as you realize you had been holding his arms for a moment.
“Right, sorry,” you say, and you take your hand away, but Percy takes your hand in his. He looks away as you look at him in surprise, but you hold his hand tighter.
“Thought you might want some reassurance after what happened and didn’t want you to get lost in the woods,” he says, and you glare at the boy as his eyes light up in mischief.
“You ass, I got lost one time and you weren’t even here!”, you say but your words aren’t heard as Annabeth and Percy start laughing.
“Common seaweed brain, we should get you some water to heal that wound,” Annabeth says and Percy nods in agreement before following her towards the lake, his hand still holding yours as if he was scared you would disappear. 
You turn to look at the portal one last time, wondering if Luke would suddenly appear again and tell you that it was all a misunderstanding. But it stays void, making you turn back towards your friends and join the conversation.
--
“What does she think of it all?”, you hear Percy ask and both Annabeth and you turn to find him standing there with a smile.
“It’s a tree seaweed brain, it doesn’t talk,” she says with an eyeroll but there is a fond smile on her lips.
“But I’m sure she would be thrilled about it,” you tell Annabeth, making the girl smile as you join her and Percy.
“What are you going to do with your dad?”, the boy asks, and you turn to look at Annabeth with a smile.
“He wants to go to New York, so I’ll pretend I haven’t been there. And then he wants to take me to someplace called Disneyworld. It sounds a little like Waterland but less dangerous,” she says, looking slightly unsure and you can’t stop yourself from smiling even wider. 
“Or did I understand that wrong? You better tell me what I’m walking in to!”, she says looking scared, but you just laugh in response.
“Just be a kid,” Percy says, and you feel your throat close up at the words. Luke had said the same words to you before everything went downhill, and now you were going home alone.
“Guys!”, you hear Grover yell and you all cheer as he arrives.
“Did you get it?”, you quickly ask, and he carefully removes his jacket to show a beautiful green flower.
“I can officially start to search for Pan!”, he says, and you all congratulate him.
“Everyone always looked on the ground and land, but no one has ever searched the oceans so I think I will start there,” Grover says, and you can’t help but feel excited for your friend.
“If you ever need help, I know some people under there,” Percy says with a cheeky smile, and you roll your eyes at his words.
“Before we go, we need to promise each other that we will all be here together again next year, the four of us,” Percy says and the three of you nod in response.
“We will all be there,” you say and Percy smiles softly at you.
“Come here!”, Grover yells before bringing the four of you into a hug and you close your eyes as you wrap your arms around your friends, holding them as tight as you can before you have to let them go.
“Enjoy New York and Disneyworld Annie and Grover good luck for your quest!”, you tell them and the two of them look excited at the prospect before Annabeth takes you by the hand, a bit further away.
“Good luck with your mother, if you ever need me, you know I’m always available,” she says, and you nod in agreement.
“Don’t worry, enjoy the time you have with your father! I’ll be just fine, I won’t be the only one in New York now,” you tell her, and she has a dangerous smile on her lips as her eyes light up in mischief.
“That’s right, you will be able to spend all seventh grade with Percy,” you hit her in the arm at her wink and you can’t help but blush as she laughs.
“Nothing will happen,” you tell her, and she looks unimpressed before humming, an unimpressed look in her eyes.
“Sure, keep telling yourself that,” she says before joining the others making you shake your head. 
“See you all in a few months?”, you ask and Grover and Annabeth nod before leaving Percy and you next to Thalia’s tree.
“Are you sure you will be alright going alone?”, Percy asks, and you look at him with a fond smile.
“I will be just fine, go and find your mother, I’m sure she is waiting for you,” you tell him and there is a hopeful smile that appears on his lips.
“Tell me when you get there? I’ll keep you updated when we come back,” he says, and a blush appears on your cheeks at the words, but you nod quickly.
“I’ll tell you, better not leave me waiting too long Jackson or I’ll go to Coney Island without you,” you tell him in a teasing tone, but you know that you would wait for him.
“Don’t worry I’ll be there,” he says with a voice that leaves no doubt in your mind and before you can tell him goodbye, he brings you into a hug, holding you close in his arms.
“See you in a week?”, he whispers, and you nod against his shoulder, holding him tight even if you knew you were going to see him soon.
“See you in a week, don’t be stranger,” you tell him before leaving his embrace and taking your luggage. 
--
Your mother is in the kitchen, the smell of cookies surrounds the living room, and you take a moment to take it all in. This would be the first of many times you would be coming back alone to your apartment. 
There are countless boxes filled with cookies, as if she had to feed two teenagers and not one. Because she would never know that her son would never come back, too far for her to ever reach again.
“Hi mom,” you whisper, trying not to let the tear fall as memories of Luke and you come back.
“Oh, my darling, you are back!”, she says, her eyes lightening up in excitement as she brings you into a tender hug.
“So sad that your brother couldn’t leave camp, but he always did love to be there,” she says, and you hold her close, letting her believe that the tears that are falling down your cheeks are from seeing her again after such a long time. Not because you had lied to her about your brother staying at camp for the year, and the fact that she wouldn’t be seeing him again.
“Why don’t you go take a shower and then we can eat something and talk! You have already grown so much!”, she says as she pushes you into the bathroom while talking about everything that you will be talking about later on.
The week passes by with her stuffing you with cookies and stories about her friends and family and before you know it a curly haired boy has come back to New York.
“You can give him some cookies!”, your mother says before shoving you a large box of cookies.
“Are these blue?”, you ask her, unable not to feel surprised as you see them, and she has a knowing smile on her lips.
“You told me he liked blue food, and I need to make a good impression on the boy who captured your heart,” she says with a teasing smile, and you groan at the words, your cheeks flushing in embarrassment.
“I am leaving!”, you tell her, and you can hear her laughter ringing thought the hallway, making you smile.
Percy is standing there, leaning against the car in front of the building.
“Please tell me you aren’t driving that car,” you say in teasing tone and Percy rolls his eyes at the words.
“Verry funny, but no we are going with the metro if that is alright with you?”, he says, and you nod in agreement your smile wide as you take in what changed in the last few days. He had gotten even taller if that was possible.
“What are those?”, he asks, and you look at the box in your hands before giving the cookies to him.
“My mother made them for you, apparently you are her new favorite,” you tell him, and a shy smile appears on his lips as he opens the box and sees the cookies.
“They are blue?”, he says, looking surprised at the sight of them and you feel shy as he looks at you.
“Seems like she listened to me when I was talking about you and the rest of the group of course,” you tell him, feeling embarrassed at what he could be thinking right now.
“Of course,” he says with a smirk, and you feel slightly confused before he takes your hand in his, making you look up at him.
“Is this alright?”, he asks, his shy eyes looking into yours.
“Completely alright,” you tell him, making a wide smile appear on his lips.
“Common we need to take the metro to get to our date!”, Percy says, and it takes you a moment to process the words.
“Wait, date?”
857 notes · View notes
hollandsfavbabe · 7 months ago
Text
Wet & Wild II
pairing: art donaldson x reader
synopsis: in which you, a swimmer, and art, a tennis champ, change each other's lives for the better when you challenge his match-like stance on life
warnings: SMUT, porn with a plot, sexually explicit language, cursing, oral sex (f receiving), p in v sex, nipple play, locker room sex, swimmer lingo
word count: 5.5k
part 1
tags💜: @midnightwrriting @no1runawaymilkdad @ihave-aboringlife @blahhucantmakeme @laniirackssss @blood-bloss @lmaoyani @geminiflanagansblog @ruyaas-world @hrlzy @povobsessed @stephstephstephsteph @chakin @10ava01 @lem0ns77 @velvrei @hdhdhdndhdndk
masterlist
a/n: sorry if the tags aren’t working, I tried to include everyone that wanted it. lmk if you have questions on anything. hope you enjoy!!
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A week has passed since the last time you’d seen Art and you try to rid any thoughts of him from your mind as you enter the women’s locker room, the day so early that the sun has only just risen. You’d only spent a few hours with him, but he feels more important to you than a mere acquaintance, especially considering you’d let him have more of you than most people would ever get to. You try to tell yourself it won’t matter if he shows or not, but deep down you know that it will. Regardless, overthinking won’t help you in the water so you shove it down as you steadily pull on your tech suit, careful not to rip the delicate fabric. Your headphones are currently blaring your hype playlist in your ear, but you slide them off once you notice movement to your left as Chloe opens her own locker.
“You ready?” she asks you, pulling out her own racing suit from the depths of her swim bag.
“Not really,” you admit, giving up on stretching your tight suit to your full body frame for the time being as you opt for a tie-back bikini top instead. Your shoulders are ever so grateful. “I’m so nervous.”
“Why? Because of your race or your little tennis boyfriend?” she teases, lips quirking into a classic Chloe smirk. As your best friend, she was the first and only person you told about your interaction with Art at the party and, of course, she had been teasing you about it since. While during practice it was amusing, you are not in the mood for jokes right before a race, especially one of such importance.
You furrow a brow, shaking your head to signal that it’s not the time for such jests concerning the blonde. As the good friend that she is, Chloe immediately understands as she moves to help tie your suit straps, a simple task that you are unexpectedly failing at due to the pressure of the meet ahead of you.
“You’re going to do great,” Chloe comforts, placing an assuring hand on your shoulder once she’s finished with your straps. “I’m sure of it.”
“What if I don’t break the record?”
“Who cares? You can try again next time. If that’s the worst that can happen, you don’t have anything to be nervous about,” she smiles in assurance. “Besides that record is as good as yours -” she makes a gesture to your tech suit that has the most magical of time bending abilities if wielded by the right swimmer. “You’ve worked so hard for this. Nothing can stop you now.”
“Thanks Clo.” you grin at her appreciatively, and though your nerves don’t settle in the slightest, you feel more comfortable living in cohabitation with them now. They’re so much easier to manage when you’re not alone.
It’s only minutes before the rest of your team has arrived and you have hours before your event is scheduled to take place, yet it only feels like seconds before you’re being seated in the waiting room amongst your competitors, tech suit finally fully on. Rousing music plays through your headphones though you are sure to skip any songs that seem even the slightest bit romantic. You try to slip into the right headspace, the line between confident and cocky that has always aided you in not panicking just before you step up to the blocks in the past. You try to find it, using any method at your fingertips, but it’s no use. You can’t seem to find it no matter how hard you try and suddenly it feels as if the weight of the world is crashing down on you when the door opens and your event is called. You stand with the other women and together you line up behind the blocks.
The sun shines much higher up in the sky than it had been when you dove in during warm ups, blaring down to reflect off the red of your cap that bears the Stanford logo in white along with your last name. You take your rightful place behind the starting block of the middle lane, and though you already wrote your heat and lane in black sharpie on your forearm just to be sure, you can’t help but worry that you’ve already missed your race.
It’s only when the head announcer calls your event on the loudspeaker that you stop dwelling on it, her voice echoing through the stands that seem so much taller now that you're in the center with so much pressure resting solely on you. You rake though the rafters to your left, hoping to be comforted by the sight of Chloe or one of your other teammates until you realize that they are more than likely preparing for their own events in the warm up pool.
It's then, just when the swirling hurricane of emotions is hurtling toward you, that you see him. He’s seated in the first row, blonde curls circling his head like a golden crown and a wide smile lighting up his face when he sees that you’ve finally spotted him, one that you can’t help returning as he mouths sweet wishes of luck to you.
Art came. He actually came!
The storm subsides and all of a sudden you’ve lost all your inhibitions. Instead of buzzing anxiety, you are filled with a new light and the confidence of a record breaker. It’s all so clear with Art in the stands and as his presence wafts away your storm of worries, you come to the realization that you can do it. You know you can.
The whistle of an official blares through the speaker and on cue you slide on your goggles and mount the block. You’re really starting to feel the compression of your suit as you bend into your diving position, waiting for the magic words. The signal that it’s time to race and leave everything you have in the pool as you go.
“Swimmers, take your marks…” 
You take one last breath before the sound blares and you dive off the block. It all comes naturally to you and with the help of your suit, you find yourself breaking out farther than ever before.
You only have a few strokes until you’re at the end of the pool when out of nowhere, the girl in the lane beside you starts to catch up to you until the two of you are neck and neck and it doesn’t escape your attention when she flips a split second before you’re able to.
You know it’s not about winning, you told Art that, but it’s as if a fire has been lit behind you and you’re suddenly determined to go for the gold. You push yourself harder than you ever have before and though you're not sure where the energy has come from, you know it’s exactly what you need. You’ve failed if you’re able to get out of the pool without stumbling.
Before long you catch up to the swimmer beside you, taking your first and only breath as you summon the last of your power, pushing through the water like a jet-ski. At once you’re behind the flags and unlike before, there’s no one beating you to the touch pad resting on the side of the ending wall as you slam your hand down and come up for air.
The crowd erupts with applause once you finish and at first you’re under the impression that it’s because of your win until your eyes glaze over at the scoreboard and nearly burst from your skull at the sight of the result.
You had accomplished your goal. There it was, a time faster than the Stanford record glowing right beside your name. But you didn’t just pass it by a few flimsy hundredths. Your new record was more than a second faster.
You can hardly believe it and you know if the proof weren’t right in front of you, there’d only be disbelief instead of this crashing wave of accomplishment and pride. Though you’re in severe oxygen debt from the race, you find yourself screaming in excitement at your gigantic accomplishment.
“We have a new record!” an official announces through the loudspeaker once the other girls have returned to the starting wall, followed by your name and new time. You search for Art again once you’re out of the water, all but failing to suppress your grin as you find him clapping in the stands and smiling down at you as if you were the most precious stone in the world.
Your teammates are filled with the same immense pride when you join them in the locker room once the meet is over. You’ve since changed from your tech suit, switching out the tight fabric for your cozy hoodie, tie-back bikini top, and a towel tied around your waist. The suit in question now hangs in your locker with the rest of your clothes that you had been in the middle of putting on before the congradulations began.
“I fucking told you!” Chloe shouts, clapping you on the back like you had just won the lottery. You imagine such a feat couldn’t match the pride you feel now.
You almost say that you can’t believe it, but the words stall on your lips. You actually can believe it, this is something you’ve been working tirelessly for. And now, after a long hard race, the record title is finally yours.
“Did I see a certain blonde in the audience?” Chloe smirks, nudging you as you wave goodbye to one of your other parting teammates.
“Maybe,” you drawl, trying your best to hide your growing grin, but the thought of the man makes you feel like flying through the air as year worth of buried emotions bubble up to the surface. You haven’t felt anything like this for a very long time.
“You know what that means…” Chloe whispers to you after you pull away from a hug with one of the other girls who like everyone else, is on her way out. The night’s party is being hosted at a house that’s a longer commute than usual in honor of the women’s tenth annual win and unlike your teammates, you aren’t in any hurry to get there knowing the a portion of the celebration will surround you.
“Drinks on you?” you guess, pretending you are clueless as to what she’s getting at. You hope it’s enough to deter her from whatever inevitably grotesque she’s about to say, but you know it’s to no avail as she laughs and shakes her head.
“Nice try,” she smiles, nudging you with her elbow. “I meant that he’s definetly going to fuck the shit out of you next time you see him.”
You cringe bashfully at her words, hitting her on the shoulder as she backs away from your shrunken form.
“Chloe!” you chide, though you both know no real anger lies within your tone. She’s been like this since the day you’d first met her: always the same old loving, indecorous Chloe.
“Just saying.” she shrugs before turning to say her goodbyes to the last lingering one of your other teammates.
You turn to open your locker, finally ready to change out of your damp towel until you’re startled by the clacking footsteps of unfamiliar tennis shoes heading in your direction. You assume it’s another random spectator who had bypassed the many signs clearly stating that the locker room is for athlete occupance only, but at once you find you’re very wrong when you turn to see who it is.
Art stands before you and though it was his decision to invade the women’s locker room, he looks as surprised as you.
“Hey,” he says, almost breathlessly. You’re thankful when you notice that Chloe is fully dressed to your left, just pulling on her knit cardigan.
She smirks smuggly at the sight of him, swinging her bag over her shoulders before sending you a wink and a swiftly muttered, “Told ya.” Without another word she exits, leaving you and Art utterly and completely alone.
“You realize this is the women’s restroom, right?” you jab as you hear Chloe shut the door behind her, though it’s all in good fun. As far as you know, no one is coming anywhere near the locker room for the next several hours.
“I was waiting outside for you,” he states, gradually lifting his hands from their tense place in the front of his jean pockets. “I thought everyone else had already come out, but I guess I was wrong.”
“That’s just Chloe,” you laugh, gesturing in the direction of the exit path your best friend had just taken. “Don’t worry, she won’t tattle.”
He chuckles, amused by your jest before he takes a slow step closer to you. Like a sparkler to your stomach, you become acutely aware of the tension between the two of you, growing like the blush colored blossoms of a cherry tree in spring. “I’ve thought about what you said.”
This makes you smile.
“And?”
“You were right.”
You’re heart flutters, so light that if it weren’t encaged within your chest you’re sure it would’ve floated away. He pauses to take another tense step in your direction, now only a foot away.
“Do you know how Tashi and I met?”
“I don’t, actually,” you say, words laced with a twinge of sarcasm.
“Right,” he laughs, realizing the folly behind his question. It was more rhetorical than anything, but he begins the story like a spider spindiling its web. “Well it was only about a year ago. We met at the US open. Patrick and I both went after her and you know what she told us?”
You wait for the answer.
“She said she’d give her number to whoever won our match. That was the first time I ever lost and it was to my best friend.”
“That’s who was at your match, wasn’t it?” you ask.
Art nods solumnly, though the pain that had been etched on his face from your last meeting has vanished, as if the thorn in his side has been replced by a budding rose.
“I didn’t know Art, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” he urges. “It’s all okay now. I’ve realized that none of it matters anymore and it’s all because of you. If I’m being honest, I thought maybe if I won my match, then Tashi would leave him. But it’s not what I want anymore. I don’t want to be the winner she’s running to. I don’t want to have to earn her love.”
“What do you want?”
There’s a pause, a distinct moment where the glint in his blue eyes from the bright lights above conveys a clever message to you than any words could. Then he speaks.
“I think you know what I want.”
It’s all the confirmation you need to know that he’s finally playing the same game as you. He’s unbearably close now as his head reaches up to gently rake through your stringy wet hair. You welcome his touch, breath catching in your throat at the feeling of his fingers as his lips hover just above yours. If you’re being completely honest, you haven’t stopped fantasizing about it since the night of the party. Since the moment he had kissed you.
“You were right,” he whispers as his hot breath tickles the tips of your top lips with every placid word. “I don’t care about winning anymore. The only point I want to score is you.”
“That’s a really bad joke.” you remark, pointing out the obvious from his corny declaration. But Art doesn’t share your smirk, his face settling in an expression that’s much more sensual.
“I’m not kidding.”
You feel the immediate shift in energy as your smirk fades to parted lips and Art’s longing gaze moves downward from your eyes. What little space left between you is squashed as you allow him to pull you even closer, noses prodigy one another as Art’s fingers drift from the tips of your hair to cup the back of your head. It’s almost salivating the way he looks at you and you’re suddenly eager to remember what he tastes like.
“Can I kiss you?” he asks through a whisper, so quietly that if you hadn’t been right in front of him, you surely wouldn’t have heard it. It’s milliseconds before you’re nodding exuberantly with more urgency than a speeding ambulance (something you might need if your heart decided to beat any faster).
“Pleas-” you start, but Art’s on you before you can even get the word out, covering your lips with his until all you can taste, smell, and feel is him. Everything is him.
He’s gentle with you at first, testing the waters as his lips pass smoothly over yours. You lift up your hands to invite him in, squeezing the toned flesh of his arms before you drag them slowly up to the nape of his neck. You toy with some of the curls that rest there, twirling them between your fingers while sinking into the sounds he makes in return. He lets out a soft moan into your mouth, and at once his tongue melds with yours. You match the new intensity, swallowing each low groan.
Unlike your last encounter, it’s Art who pulls away this time, forcing you to scowl at him in confusion, eyes squinting and lips puffy. He twists his head to the left, glazing at the wide space behind him as he slowly moves the both of you backwards to the nearest flat-board bench until one of its edges grazes the top of his shin.
“What are you doing?” you ask through a whisper, leaning forward so that your lips titillate the tip of his ear which sends inadvertent shivers through his whole body. Art turns back to you, smirking as he leans in for another sloppy kiss, earning a salacious sound from you before his lips shift from yours and trailing from the corner of your mouth to the line of your open jaw where his teeth scrape against your skin. You can feel him grinning as he makes you emit the softest of moans.
“I want to make up for the other night. I said some things - I’m not proud of.”
You give a giddy chuckle as you cup his cheek, amused by the fact that he thinks his past behavior was inexcusable until Art’s head dips to suck on the tender skin of your neck and you can’t help but whine. You’re glad you have the lung capacity of a swimmer otherwise you might’ve fainted from the near constant lack of oxygen.
“Art, honestly-” a sudden gasp is ripped from you as you feel him nipping at your sweet spot, crumbling like a tin can under pressure. “-it’s fine.” you barely manage to finish your sentence.
He places a few more steady kisses to the column of your neck, working his way down to your clavicle. You tip your head back, an unintentional effect from the sensation of his lips as he lays the last just near the edge of your collarbone before raising his head to look at you and it’s almost as if he can see right through you.
“Does that mean you don’t want what I’m offering?” he questions, glancing down at the steady movement of your chest as it rises and falls beneath your hoodie. You don’t recall when in the last few minutes he managed to move his hands down to your waist, but you can feel them now as clear as ever. He grips the sides of your hoodie, nimble fingers sliding under the thick gray fabric until they find the skin beneath and his touch feels like fire, sparking flames along your hips with every small caress. It’s so hot that you aren’t sure how Tashi could pick anyone over him. You aren’t sure how anyone could deny him for that matter.
“No…” you admit and at once his hands start to travel higher and higher until they reach the bottom band of your bikini, inflaming the whole of your torso as he meets the straps still tied neatly together in the middle of your spine forming a perfect bow. His fingers follow the provided path, meeting at the center of your back as he starts to twirl one of the tails of the knot around his pointer finger.
“May I?” he asks, his tone so deceivingly politely as he gently tugs on the string. He waits patiently for your consent as his eyes pan up from your chest to your expression. You can’t get the words out, already too overwhelmed from the sizzling sensation of his touch, but you make sure to nod with the utmost enthusiasm. Who were you to tell Art Donaldson no when he was so eager to touch you? And you, in turn, were so eager to feel him.
He smiled at your agreeance and instantly unfastened the tie of your suit, pulling on the strand until the entire bow came undone. He lips pressed against yours once more before he settled down on the bench and raised the hem of your hoodie just enough to expose your stomach, peppering kisses to every inch of you.
You released your hold on him to assist in pulling the hoodie over your head, tossing it behind you where it lands in a crumple pile near the metal door of your locker. Without any tension left to hold it up, the triangle cutlets of your bikini slump to reveal two perfect pebbled nipples, leaving the towel looped around your waist as your only source of coverage.
Usually you’d feel insecure being so bare for a man that’s practically a stranger, but from the dazed look Art gives you as he takes in the sight of your figure, you find that you don’t mind it in the slightest.
“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” Art mutters almost involuntarily, sending shock waves down straight to your core. The words came bursting out before he could find the strength to hold them back, his brain too busy processing your beauty to have any control over any sort of filter. You return your hands to his head of blonde curls just as he presses one last kiss to the center of your abdomen, exactly below your rib cage.
The movement is so sudden that you can't count the seconds that pass before he grabs at your breasts, each hand perfectly cupping the mounted flesh. His mouth is slower, trailing kisses up the valley of your chest.
His thumb works the sensitive skin encircling your nipple, running over the hardened peak in an unperceivable pattern that forces another well earned moan from your lips. It’s encouragement for his other hand that immediately drifts upwards to mirror the actions of the other. Every pinch and slight movement is like gasoline to your fire, all pouring in a downward stream to the part of you that grows more needy with every passing second. You could cry from the sensation of it all, the intensity only growing when you feel him pass his tongue over your left nipple. You try to suppress any sounds this time, teeth biting down on your lip as you curve your head back, but it forces its way out despite your efforts. You grip the hair fixed to his crown and pressure him forwards so that he remains in place.
“Shit, that feels - really good.” you praise, your phrase strung together like an old beaded bracelet as changes in pace break apart each word. When Art does part from your breasts, it’s to press wet kisses down the line of your abdomen as flickering thumbs replace his mouth. He pauses as he reaches the softest portion of your stomach, stopping just above the knot that is covering your very bare lower half, and though you don’t recall informing him about your lack of undergarments, you are sure that he already knows.
“I need to taste you,” he whispers against your skin.
He doesn’t ask you for permission anymore, but instead glances up at you from his spot on the bench and it’s everything you need to understand what he wants from you. And of course you want it. You’re sure if he wastes a second longer to tend to your throbbing center, you might just pass out in his sturdy arms.
“Please, Art, I need you,” you’re able to get out, though it’s breathy and delicate from the way that he’s rendered you.
He’s quick to oblige as he takes the top of your towel cover in between his perfect white teeth and yanks the fabric hard enough for it to fall to your feet. He’s on you in an instant, one of his hands moving to support your shaky frame as he slides a knee between yours to spread you open.
He coaxes every cry out of you with his tongue, wet and skilled as he traces it along each fold, his nose bobbing against your swollen clit not dissimilar from his left hand that still lies atop your breast. You press him closer to you as he swirls his tongue around you, over and over and never in the same way more than twice in a row. It’s overstimulation at its best, overwhelming you until you're trembling in his grasp and before you know it, you’re riding the edge of the wave to pure pleasure.
“Fuck, Art! I’m- I’m-“ you can’t even finish your sentence, he feels so good. He hums against you in amusement, the vibrations of his voice meeting your core in a melting sensation that you find yourself grinding into uncontrollably.
“On my tongue,” he promotes against you before licking a steady stripe along your center. It’s then that you know you’re done for. Your cry is almost inhuman as you leap off the edge, diving into the heart of the wave as Art finally relinquishes his hold on your breast and uses the newly unoccupied hand to pierce into your arousal, calloused fingers curling into you as he helps you down from your high. Even after you cum you know you still have more in you. And you can tell from the growing bulge in his pants that Art isn’t done with you either.
He stands to kiss you with dampened lips as the taste of your own arousal invades your senses, but you withdraw from the embrace after only a few seconds to ask him your burning question, desire already regrowing like a flooding river of need.
“Art, I need you,” you start, pulling at the canvas material of his button up. “Please, please fuck me.”
“Oh fuck,” he mumbles before pressing his mouth towards yours and back you up to the wall of lockers that are neatly arranged behind you.
Granted by his permission, you unfasten each button of his shirt until it’s enough to pull it off him which he happily helps you accomplish. You can’t tell who’s more desperate for you to feel the dense muscle of his chest as he places your palms face down on his pecs, granting you the assurance you needed to explore his body.
You take your time, squeezing and prodding just as he had done to you until one of your hands is low enough on his stomach to palm him through his light wash jeans. The soft whimper he returns is nearly enough to send you over again. He pulls back as he lets you undo his belt, eyelids fluttering after you’ve unbuttoned and unzipped the only thing keeping you from him. You’re quick to pull him out, not at all shocked by how hard he is and it’s a major ego boost knowing it’s all because of you.
“See what you do to me?” he whispers against your lips as if you needed more proof of his longing for you. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Please,” you beg. “I need to feel you.”
Art is quick to oblige as his calloused fingers grip the soft skin of your hips, so rough that you can feel every callus from his racket as he pushes you against the lockers, thrusting up into you. While he’s dying to continue, he hesitates so that you can acclimate to his size. It takes no longer than a second as you release a guttural groan and wrap a leg around his waist, aiding him in hitting even deeper within you.
“Fuck!” you cry, throwing your head back against the cold metal as Art nips at your neckline again. You’re drowning beneath the blissful rocky wave and from the sounds that he’s making, almost re-enacting one of his matches just for you, you can tell that Art is too.
It happens so quickly that your mind struggles to understand it, spinning wildly as the wave pulls you under once more along with Art who finishes in a similar amount of time. You lean into his chest, breathing heavily as you take in the heavenly scent of his undoubtedly expensive cologne and slightly wincing as he pulls out of you slowly. He ducks to pick up your fallen towel as he starts to clean you up.
The realization that it’s over doesn't quite hit you until Art helps you get dressed, buckling his belt back up only once you’re decent and in return you hand him a spare shirt so he doesn’t have to redo every button on the one you’d nearly torn off him.
“Thanks,” he smiles gratefully, pulling on your shirt which fits tighter around him than it would around you, though it’s nothing to complain about as every miniscule ripple of muscle is on display.
You’re both thinking the exact same thing as you exit the locker room, hand in hand with the same guilty expression on your face as you pass an incoming janitor who is too busy scowling to ask Art what he was doing in the women’s locker room. It’s obvious from the encounter that it won’t be your last and as Art drives you to the planned frat party, you’re even sure that it’s not the last of the night.
Time proves you right as you’re seated next to Art a few weeks later, curled into his side as you share a large plate of the appetizer combo at a local Applebees. It was the only thing open after a long day of matches and meets and steamy rendezvous in between. The two of you were going on steadier than the trunks of ancient trees as you continue to support each other, you attending all of Art’s matches ( even if it meant skipping a practice or two) and Art cheering for you at all of your meets. You’re not sure if it’s the consistent attendance, but the both of you were only getting better at your respective hobbies by the day, particularly Art who hadn’t lost a match since meeting you.
You’re both jokingly arguing over who gets the last quesadilla when a familiar woman stops near your table, joined by a man you’d never seen before, though you recognize him from several of Art's detailed stories. He straightens beside you, gathering himself to greet the new company.
“Hey guys, long time no see!”
“Art,” Patrick nods to his friend before smiling to you and offering his hand, one that you take without a second thought. “I’m Patrick.”
“I know,” you admit. “I’ve heard a lot about you. You must be Tashi.” you turn to the girl and you can’t help, but analyze the peculiarities of her expression. It’s clear she is content with her own man of choice, but something about the way she looks at you tells you that she’s still involved in the tennis philosophy you managed to screw out of Art. She looks at you like you’re a player she’s lost to. And from what Art’s told you, you're certain it’s the first time Tashi has lost.
“It’s nice to meet you.” she fakes a smile before pulling Patrick to the door, careful not to stay long enough for the conversation to lead anywhere important. It’s awkward and strange, but you know it’s for the best. You’re not particularly interested in anything she has to say anyways.
“Did you see that?” you ask, pointing in the direction of the doorway that the couple had used for an easy escape.
“What?” Art wonders, looking towards you in anticipation.
“I think she’s looking for a new winner.”
Art leans in to peck the apple of your cheek, assurance that no matter the circumstance, he’ll never be available to the likes of Tashi Duncan again.
“Must be because I’ve won,” he reasons, “-because I have you and there’s nothing she can do to separate us.”
You smile at his sweet words, praying that he never ceases to use his talent for affectionate poetry as you lean in to kiss him. Whether he wins or loses or even never plays again, you couldn’t care less about the outcome of his career. As long as Art’s happy, you’re prepared to take on any challenge you’re put up to, whether on the court or in the pool.
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cupcakeslushie · 7 months ago
Note
For your brainwash au, do we get so see exactly how Donnie got captured by Kendra? And would this au be a full comic or just bits and pieces here and there? (Not pressuring just curious) Love the au and I hope you’re having a good day! :)
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Don’t know why, but I felt like writing this part out instead of drawing it! (Sorry for bad grammar. I wrote this lying in bed, sleep deprived and did no editing)
——
The sad, pained look on his little brother’s face is enough to set off that dark protective fire in Donatello’s belly. And Michael has been a tiny storm of negative emotions since Leo slapped the small cast on his ankle. Donnie may not be able to pick apart and decipher all of the subtitles his brother is feeling right now, but he knows he’s in pain, and that’s enough.
“How many strips of bacon do you think we can get from Meat Sweat’s corpse?” Donnie ponders as he wraps an arm around his little brother’s shoulders, and carefully pulls him closer. Mikey lets out a quiet huff, but the joke doesn’t land the way Donnie had been hoping.
“Michael?”
“I’m okay,” Mikey assures. Then a hesitant second later adds, “it’s stupid.”
“Oh well if it’s stupid, allow me to grab ‘Nardo. He might be able to help you better.”
That gets the laugh he was looking for.
“I’m not in pain or anything. It’s just, tonight was the midnight signing of Joshua Bear’s new cook book. He’s a YouTuber chef that I’ve been following for years, and I went to his first release…I really wanted the second for my collection.”
Donatello does vaguely remember Angelo telling Raph something about this event last night, during dinner. He’d been so excited, and now he looks crushed at the idea of missing it.
“What if I went?” At the suggestion, Mikey’s face becomes brighter than a super nova, almost too bright for Donnie to stare at directly. It takes a moment for Michael to really calm down enough to speak.
“You’d really go wait in line for three hours? Just to get a book?” Donatello laughs at the question. Any opportunity in which his brothers were interested in the world of literature, no matter the subject (except maybe geology) was a time to be supportive.
Mikey pulls him in for a tight hug, and holds up his phone to snap a picture of them. Donnie snorts and slides out of his little brother’s hammock, careful not to disturb it too much. Mikey is already bouncing enough that he’s in danger of falling out.
“Yes, yes. Sing my praises on all your media socials. Let the world know how I’m your favorite older sibling!” Mikey drops the phone to his chest and holds his arms up, practically vibrating for one more hug. Donnie complies. He’s long given up maintaining his bad boy image when it’s just the two of them.
“You’re the best, Donnie! Really!” The words do a hell of a job replacing that previous fury he’d been harboring, the smile and warmth coming from Mikey, now fully restored. The proper order of the universe righted with a simple solution. This was what he loved most about being a brother. Fixing his siblings problems, in any way he could. And if healing the broken bone outright was (for now) out of his control—at least he could do this.
Donnie glances at his watch and notes he should get going if the turn out is going to be as big as Angelo predicts. He sneaks past the living room where he can hear his other two brethren yelling over a game of Mario Kart. He has zero interest in either of his brothers tagging along. He loves them, but neither are suited to standing in a long line for hours. For the last Jupiter Jim reboot, Donatello was seconds away from a double fratricide before they were even allowed into the theater.
Besides. He’s practically 18 (in four weeks). He can run up to the surface for a few hours, without having to call upon the archaic buddy system.
———
He’s in line for about an hour, when he sees suspicious movement out the corner of his eye. A young woman, parting the line a little ways ahead from where he stands, walks quickly into the closest alley. That alone might be no cause for alarm—maybe it’s a short cut. But the tall, hooded creep trailing after her, has his metaphorical hackles rising. It’s a clear case of sinister intentions. He quickly glances around to see if anyone else has witnessed this, but he’s the only one who seems to be showing any type of concern. Typical New York.
“What a town” Donnie sighs. He doesn’t bother asking the old man behind him to save his spot, seeing as he’s practically at the end of the line, and quickly races to the alley to play hero.
It’s a deep one, the lights of the street not quite hitting all the eerie nooks and crannies. Plenty of blind spots.
“Hello there? Stalker and or damsel in distress? Is anyone in need of assistance? Anyone hopefully bear maced and in need of a being escorted to the nearest precinct?”
No answer.
The non-existent hairs on Donnie’s arms stand straight up. Just as he’s reaching for his ninpo to materialize a bo-staff, something thick wraps around his neck from behind. The arm is almost as big as Raphael’s, if lacking in the muscle department.
But before his can break the hold, the solid feeling of a needle slides into the meat of his neck and something rushes into his veins. Within seconds he’s released and stumbling from the lack of support.
Someone is talking to him. It takes a second of his gaze bouncing around to pick them out. Mildly embarrassing, considering they’re standing right in front of him now. Out of all the colors popping in and out of his vision, Donnie only just catches the same turquoise hoodie that seemed to belong to the unassuming young woman.
A honey pot trap, he realizes, stumbling and falling pathetically backwards on his own ass.
He sees pink hair and is almost relieved, if humiliated. With all their enemies, the Purple Dragons are D tier. But the chances he can free himself before his brothers even notice his absence is high. Just the thought of the savage teasing he would be forced to endure if his brothers found out—Donatello is not eager to hear any of it.
As the nauseating colors finally bleed away, and start to leave black growing in their wake, Donatello swears to cause a big explosion on his way out.
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panandinpain0 · 1 year ago
Note
Miss Granger x female Slytherin I beg you 🙏🙏 but a nice one
Summer Lovin'
Sorry this took so long! I've got a schedule out now so I'll be doing these requests more regularly <3
Enjoy!
@@@
Requested by: Anon
Hermione Granger x Fem!Slytherin!Reader
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The fresh smell of new books would always cheer Hermione up. Not that she was in a bad mood, but it cheered her up nonetheless. Hearing the bell ring above the door was something Hermione had been longing to hear all year, the smell of a citrus scented candle wafting around the sunlit shop.
The walls had chipped brown paint on them, a warm timber color that seemed to be fading, showing the true age of the building. The wood floors had colorful rugs placed here and there, the children’s section a burst of color against the serene atmosphere. Waving to the man at the front desk, someone she’d seen there often over the years, Hermione was on her way to find a new book.
She walked slowly down the fiction aisle, her finger skimming the spines of each book. When she found one that caught her eye she pulled it off the shelf, reading the synopsis on the back.
“Looking for something exciting?” a voice asked, making Hermione flinch in surprise. She looked up at the person next to her, eyes wide. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” she laughed and held her hands up to show that she meant no harm.
“You’re fine, it’s just very quiet in here,” Hermione reassured, smiling gently at the girl in front of her. “And yes, something exciting. I’ve been reading non-fiction these last couple of months and decided to switch it up.” She waved the book in her hand around slightly.
“Hence the fiction section,” the girl commented, smiling with amusement when Hermione agreed. “That one is one of my favorites.” She gestured to the book Hermione was holding.
Hermione looked back down at the book, reexamining it. “Is it any good?”
“I’d like to think I have pretty good taste,” she replied, skimming the titles of the books on the shelf in front of her.
“Are you looking for something to read?” Hermione questioned, holding on to her book with more certainty than before.
“No, I just come here to find pretty girls to talk to,” she replied, her face completely serious.
Hermione was slightly taken aback, hesitating before asking, “Really?”
The girl’s serious face morphed into a smirk, shaking her head calmly. “No, I was being sarcastic. But that does tend to be one of the perks of this shop.”
Hermione laughed nervously in response, nodding her head before tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.
“Yes, I’m here to find a new book to read. Any suggestions?” She motioned to the shelf they were standing in front of.
Hermione turned serious as she inspected the spines, her eyes catching a specific one. As she pulled it off the shelf she asked, “How do you feel about a mystery with a romantic subplot?”
“Sounds right up my alley, if I’m being honest.”
Hermione handed her the book and they both made their way up to the counter to pay.
“You’ll have to let me know how you like the book,” the girl insisted, scribbling something down on a nearby paper. Ripping it off she handed it to Hermione. “This is my house phone, don't be surprised if my parents answer.”
“I won’t…” Hermione trailed off as she realized she didn’t know the girl’s name.
Catching the hint, the girl stuck out her hand for Hermione to shake. “(Y/N) (L/N), at your service.”
“Hermione Granger,” she returned.
“Hermione?” a voice called from outside the shop, catching both girl’s attention. Hermione’s father waved to her through the window, motioning that it was time for them to leave.
“Ah, I’ve got to go. It was a pleasure meeting you! I hope to hear how you enjoy my book as well.” Hermione smiled, cheeks pink as she said goodbye. She scolded herself as she walked away, reminding herself that she had a new friend and she shouldn’t expect anything more. Well, she had a new and very attractive friend. There’s a difference…
A Week Later…
Sniffling, Hermione gently closed the book and placed it on her lap, wiping at her tears. It had been a wonderful yet heart wrenching book, in which the main character lost the person which they loved most. She took a deep breath as she looked out of her cracked window, reflecting on what she’d read. Taking a sip of the tea that had gone cold, long forgotten after the climax of the book started, she stood up.
Hermione had been using the slip of paper (Y/N) had handed her at the bookshop as a bookmark, so as not to lose it. Now, she’d use it for its actual purpose. Gliding down the stairs, Hermione found the landline in their kitchen, dialing in the number and holding it to her ear.
As it started to ring she felt pangs of nervousness with each ring that sounded. Should she actually call her? It wasn’t a prank, was it? She didn’t think it was- they both were interested in reading and it’d be nice to have someone to talk to about it… What if she’d been making fun of Hermione the whole time and-?
“Hello?”
Clearing her throat quickly, Hermione recovered from her surprise at the voice. “Yes, hello. This is Hermione Granger, I was wondering if I could speak to (Y/N)?”
“Just a minute,” what seemed to be (Y/N)’s mother responded. Hermione heard a distant shout for her, with a “your friend’s on the phone!” after.
After another moment a different voice echoed through the phone.
“Hey, bookshop girl! Hermione, right?” (Y/N) teased through the phone, and her ease comforted Hermione from her anxieties.
“Yes, it’s Hermione. I finished the book you recommended, just now actually.”
An excited gasp could be heard, followed by a, “Did you cry? How much did you cry?”
Hermione let out a somewhat offended scoff and shook her head, even though (Y/N) couldn’t see it.
“For your information I did cry, it was a sad ending! How come you didn’t warn me?”
“What would be the fun in reading it if I’d told you how it ends?” Hermione could hear the smile in her voice.
“I suppose you’re right,” Hermione sighed back, sitting down on a stool near the counter. “Have you finished the one I gave you yet?”
“Yes, I did! You know, I always do the same thing with mystery books. I think I’ve figured out who the culprit is within three chapters and am always completely wrong by the end of the book.”
Hermione chuckled, “I also thought it was Mr. Barnabee until chapter sixteen.”
“It so should’ve been him, right? And that crazy reveal in sixteen where Gracie the mistress pulled out the handkerchief- it was exhilarating.”
“I take it you liked it?” Hermione twisted the phone cord around her finger, giving her hands something to do while they talked.
“Oh yes, I thoroughly enjoyed it. Any more recommendations? I was going to go back to the bookshop this weekend to feed my addiction.”
“Addiction?”
“Of literature.”
Hermione snorted, laughing at the response. “That’s a bit dramatic, don’t you think?” The smile in her voice was evident.
“Not at all. I can’t seem to stop and it’s draining my bank account.”
Hermione giggled again. “How about this, we can meet up and shop together?”
“Even better. I’ll be there Saturday at noon.”
“I will too.”
“Bye.”
“Bye.”
As the line clicked to signal (Y/N) had hung up, Hermione bit her lip and sighed. She stopped mid-giggling and shook her head, scolding herself again. She’d found another friend who enjoys reading just as much as she does, that doesn’t mean she can’t still scare them off. She needed to tone it down.
The summer had ended as soon as it began as the girl’s read together. They started going to each other’s houses to read, and Hermione had gotten into the habit of laying her head on (Y/N)’s lap, listening to her tell the most wondrous stories from the books.
They laughed together, cried together, damn near did everything together. None of which helped Hermione get rid of her feelings in the slightest. Little did she know, (Y/N) had started to harbor feelings for her as well, what with so much time spent with each other.
Today they were reading separately, Hermione sitting against the headboard of her bed while (Y/N) laid at the end, legs hanging off as she fingered the corner of the page. It didn’t seem like she was actually reading, but lost in thought.
Hermione’s gaze kept darting from her book to the girl in front of her, blushing every time she was almost caught.
Truth was, both the girl’s were trying to figure out how to tell the other they wouldn’t be at home for the school year. They couldn’t very well tell the other that she was a witch! Well, they could, but they didn’t know that yet.
(Y/N) shifted her position to sit up, facing Hermione and abandoning her book.
“‘Mione?”
“Hm?” Hermione set down her book, giving (Y/N) her full attention.
“I need to tell you something.”
“What is it?” She began to worry, her own problems shoved to the back of her mind.
“Summer’s almost over… I just wanted to tell you that I won’t be here when school starts back up.” (Y/N) bit her lip, picking at the skin of her nails. “I’m attending this boarding school, it’s a live-in…”
Hermione let out a somewhat relieved sigh at the admission, setting her book aside and scooting towards (Y/N) on the bed. Taking her hands in her own, Hermione smiled at her.
“I won’t either for the same reasons.” Her worry drained away as she saw (Y/N) shoulders relax and a smile appear on her face. They still wouldn’t be seeing each other until winter break or summer, but at least she wouldn’t be leaving Hermione behind. They both had reasons for not being home.
“Can I send you letters?” (Y/N) asked, playing with Hermione’s hand that rested between them. She knew it probably wouldn’t be the best idea to have a muggle sending letters to a wizarding village, or castle, without knowing, but what she didn’t know couldn’t hurt her- right?
Hermione seemed to be going through the same possibilities in her head, but ever since she’d met (Y/N), her priorities had been a bit skewed.
“Yes, you can. I’ll write down the address,” Hermione got up and scribbled on a piece of paper, handing it to (Y/N). She put it between the pages of her book immediately without looking at it, knowing she wouldn’t remember a lick of it anyways. When she sends her first letter Hermione can just look at the address she wrote from to write back.
Hermione sat back down on the bed and the two girls shared a look of understanding. They wouldn’t see each other in person for a while but that doesn’t mean this friendship had to only be for the summer.
(Y/N) reached across the bed and wrapped her arms around Hermione’s neck, pulling her into a hug. Hermione returned the gesture, arms around (Y/N)’s waist as she tucked her head into her neck. She just knew (Y/N) and the boys would get along so well if they’d ever get the chance to meet.
“I’ll miss you,” (Y/N) whispered into Hermione’s hair.
“I’ll miss you more.”
“I doubt it.”
“Don’t fight me on this, you won’t win.”
Hermione pulled (Y/N) back and they both laid on the bed, laughing together.
A Week Later…
They’d said their official goodbyes the night before hugging and holding hands until it got late enough that Hermione knew she wouldn’t want to wake up the next morning. When they parted, (Y/N) had kissed her cheek, handing Hermione a book she’d bought her as a farewell gift.
Sitting in her parents car, Hermione read the synopsis on the back of the book, smiling and flipping through the pages.
There’s no doubt Harry and Ron would hear more about (Y/N) than they’d care to, but that’s just what comes with being friends, you hear about each other’s crushes whether you like it or not. Not that Hermione would ever admit to it being a crush. Or that she’d touched the place (Y/N) had kissed on her cheek every time she thought of her…
Arriving at platform nine and three quarters, Hermione bid her parents goodbye with a hug and ran straight into the brick pillar. Coming out on the other side, Hermione took in the air, already feeling the magic thrumming through it, as if she could taste it.
Taking her bags off of the cart she had pushed them in with, she left it near the entrance and searched for her friends, specifically for the family of redheads, knowing Harry would most likely be with the Weasley’s.
Eventually she found Ron and Harry with them, and they boarded the train. Now they walked down the aisle, searching for an empty compartment, Hermione leading. Suddenly, as she was looking through the windows of one of the doors, someone ran into her. She was pushed back into Ron, who helped her stand back on two feet.
“Oh, I’m so sorry! I wasn’t looking where I was going- ‘Mione?” the extremely familiar voice gasped in shock.
Looking up, Hermione met (Y/N)’s gaze. “(Y/N)?!” Hermione asked back with just as much surprise.
“I didn’t know you were a witch,” they both said at the same time, laughing with each other after.
“Well, this makes things much easier,” (Y/N) admitted, pulling Hermione into a hug after handing her the bag that she’d dropped back.
“You two know each other?” Harry asked, gaze darting down to (Y/N)’s green and silver tie.
“We met over the summer,” Hermione filled in, also taking in (Y/N)’s uniform (but not for the same reasons). “I had no idea you went to Hogwarts,” Hermione repeated, moving out of the way as a few people passed by.
“I didn’t know you went here either! There’s an empty compartment just up here.” (Y/N) led them just two doors up and opened it, letting them all enter and following after.
“So how did you two meet?” Harry asked, looking slyly between the two as they sat across from Ron and himself.
“At this muggle bookshop, we were both looking for something to read and started spending time together,” (Y/N) explained after putting Hermione’s bag above them next to her own.
They spent the rest of the time getting to know each other, Ron still holding a bit of distaste for her house, but pushing that aside as they talked about the Chudley Cannons together. Harry had liked her from the start, well- as soon as she said she disliked Malfoy about as much as the rest of them.
Once they arrived at Hogwarts they got off the train, knowing they’d have to separate soon. (Y/N)’s Slytherin friends waved in the distance, calling out her name.
“Well, I’d better go now. It was a pleasure meeting you two, and it was a welcomed surprise to see you, Hermione.” (Y/N) smiled and took Hermione’s hand, kissing the back of her knuckles. Hermione’s face heated at the action, Ron and Harry deciding they should just start walking to avoid making things awkward.
“Don’t be a stranger. Now that I know you go here I want to spend time with you,” Hermione admitted, not letting go of (Y/N)’s hand until she did it herself.
“I promise, I’ll see you as much as possible. And hey, now we recommend wizarding books to each other.” (Y/N) winked and hugged Hermione goodbye, walking away to see her friends.
Hermione bit her lip before turning to where Ron and Harry had waited for her. She jogged to catch up to them, and they started walking to the carriages.
“So, a Slytherin?” Harry teased and Hermione elbowed him in the side, Ron throwing his head back as he laughed.
This was going to be an interesting year.
End
--
Hope that was okay! Thanks again for requesting <3
-Author Max <3
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Lost Comfort
masterlist
summary: dean hurt you when he was a demon, now it’s hard to sleep next to him
paring: dean winchester x female reader
rating: R for language, violent themes
word count: 1.1k
warnings: please read! talk of serious sexual assault, demon!dean being worse than he was in the show, (he wasn’t even that bad in the show, but he’s bad in this), language
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“Dean, stop, this isn’t you!” you shrieked, pushing the demon’s arm away. It was no use. Dean was stronger than you when he wasn’t a supernatural being, but now you didn’t even stand a chance.
“C’mon, sweetheart, I know you love me,” he laughed, black eyes staring at you.
“Of course I do Dean, but I know you love me too and this isn’t love! Please get off of me!” you sobbed.
Your eyes flung open, a thin layer of sweat coating your forehead. You blinked away the dream and took in your surroundings, before realizing Dean’s arms were wrapped tightly around you.
“Dean, let me go,” you said. It came out as barely a whisper. Even if he was awake he wouldn’t have heard you. “Dean, please- fuck, let me go!” you repeated, but you were still barely speaking. “Dean let go!” you screamed, which woke him up.
“Y/n?” He furrowed his brows. “Hey, you okay?”
“Dean let me go! Now!” you cried. He flung his arms open and you hurried out of the bed. “God fucking damn it! I told you to let me go and you didn’t!”
“I- I’m sorry, hun I was asleep I swear I didn’t hear you,” he said quietly as he sat up.
“This was a mistake, I can’t sleep next to you! What was I thinking?” you scoffed. “I’m sleeping in the Dean Cave, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Wait, no don’t go! I’ll go sleep on the couch, you stay here!” He got out of bed but didn’t miss the flinch you threw when he walked towards you. “I’m so sorry.”
Sam suddenly burst through the door; gun in one hand and holy water in the other.
“What happened? He a demon again?” Sam asked you, his eyes wide.
“Just a bad dream.” You shook your head. You brushed past Sam and walked towards the Dean Cave before stopping in your tracks. You hurried back to yours and Dean’s room.
“I still love you, Dean, I just need a bit of time, okay?” You smiled sadly, noticing the tears now on his face as he nodded.
“I love you, take all the time you need,” he replied.
With that you left.
“Dude, what the fuck happened?” Sam asked, putting his gun and the holy water down. “She’s never left you after a dream before, has she?”
“I- I think the dream was about me,” Dean whispered. “Fuck, I really hurt her this time Sam. I- I don’t think she’s gonna be able to forgive me.”
“This is Y/n, Dean,” Sam started, “she’d do anything for you. I think she just needs time.”
“But you don’t know what I did.” Dean let silent tears fall as he thought about what his demon self had done to you.
“I mean, it couldn’t have been that bad?” Sam scoffed a little then Dean looked at him. “Right?”
Dean bit the inside of his cheek and shook his head, looking down. “I r-ruh—god, I can’t even say it out loud.”
“Oh god,” Sam muttered, internally jumping to (correct) conclusions. “It’s been like two weeks, Dean. Of course she can’t stand to sleep next to you.”
“But it wasn’t me!” Dean cried. “I hate myself so fucking much for taking this stupid fucking mark and letting it consume me.”
“Dean-”
“Don’t get me wrong, I do not blame her if she doesn’t wanna ever see me again, but fuck! I’d do anything to fix this.”
“Just give her space.” Sam shrugged. “I think that’s all you can do right now. Whatever future your relationship with her has, is completely up to her.” As he turned to leave, he added; “But also be prepared for her not to forgive you for this. I don’t think she’ll be able to.” With that Sam left.
**
“Dean please!?” you screamed. “Dean, I love you! I know you’re in there somewhere, please stop!”
You woke up alone in the Dean Cave, beads of sweat rolling down your temples.
“Shit!” you mumbled, letting tears fall.
You sat up on the couch and tucked your knees into your chest. You checked the clock and realized you’d only gotten about forty-five minutes of sleep since your last dream.
You tried to go back to sleep but every time you closed your eyes you were met with the horrid memories; Dean hovering over you with his demon eyes.
You tossed and turned for a while before you realized there was only one person in the world who could make you feel better and he was the one person you couldn’t stand to touch right now. You huffed to yourself as you got up and left the Dean Cave.
When you opened the bedroom door you were met with Dean crying softly into your pillow, facing away from the door.
“Hey,” you said quietly, your voice laced with trace amounts of fear. His eyes flung open and he slowly sat up.
“Hey, uh- what’re you- what’re you doing here, uh, Y/n?” He stumbled over his words and wiped his tears away with his hands. He put his feet to the hardwood to stand up but you backed away and shook your head. You didn’t want to be that close to him.
“I- I’m still scared of you, I’m sorry,” you whispered. “But I love you,” you added quickly. “I love you so fucking much and I know I can’t sleep next to you, but I can’t sleep properly without you. So, I uh, I’m just gonna sleep in here… on the floor.”
“What? Honey you can’t sleep on the floor,” Dean said. “I’ll sleep on the floor, you can have the bed.”
“No, cause then I’ll feel bad about kicking you out of bed,” you mumbled, causing Dean to smile a little.
“How about this; we both sleep on the floor by our sides of the bed. That way neither of us feel bad about the other, we’re far enough apart, and we can see each other from under the bed.”
“I’d like that.” You smiled softly. “Can I maybe use your pillow though, looks like you soaked mine,” you laughed a little, causing him to do the same.
“I’d actually prefer to use yours,” he replied and tossed you his pillow. “Smells like you.”
You took a whiff of the pillow now in your hands. “Is that the aftershave I bought you?” He nodded with a smile. “Perfect!”
You waited until Dean was on the floor of his side of the bed before you went to your side and laid down. When you put your head to the pillow, you were met with Dean’s soft smile a few feet away.
“Is this okay?” he asked, you nodded.
“I love you, Dean,” you whispered. You reached an arm out under the bed so Dean did the same, your fingers touching in the middle.
“I love you so much, Y/n.”
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merriclo · 2 years ago
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today has been fucking wild holy hell
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hoe4sports · 8 months ago
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Expantion
Alexia Putellas x Reader
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Summary: After a miscarriage, you are pregnant again hopeful that this time will be it. But this time, things are not what you hoped they would be.
Oh my god. Oh my god. Something is wrong. The midwife is taking an extra second look at the ultrasound. She’s stopped talking. She’s stopped smiling. She’s stopped everything. She’s just looking. Her eyes glued to the screen without as much as an emotion on her face. She’s moving the probe. And looking some more. Oh no. Not again. Your heartbeat was increasing. It felt like it was about to beat through your chest. You had miscarried once already. The first IVF attempt had surprisingly worked. Only to be ripped away from you after 2 months. No heartbeat. No baby. No future. You had decided that you were ready to try again just shy of Christmas. It was now May, and summer was fast approaching. Alexia had been stuck in traffic as practice had been running late, and she was just around the corner. You couldn’t even imagine having to tell her that once again; your body had killed her egg, her baby. The first time it happened, she didn’t say much. She was so supportive that I t hurt. But when she thought you were sleeping, she let her tears flow. How was she gonna react to this again? What was a third try gonna look like? Would she even want to go for a third try? You didn’t know if that was a possibility. Due to the poor state of her eggs, you didn’t get many good eggs from her, and very few of them had matured into good quality embryos ready for transfer. It had all happened in a short amount of time: from kissing her for the first time to buying a house and trying for a baby all in the span of 3 years. What if she couldn’t handle this? You got nauseous by the thought of it.
“Sorry, I’m just gonna go and get the doctor. Just wait here mrs.Putellas.” The midwife said as she stood up and walked out. You reached for your phone as you pulled your sweater down causing the gel to stick to the inside of your sweater. You didn’t care. You didn’t want to see the tiny bump. You didn’t want to let the doctor see the bumb. You didn’t want the doctor to tell you that your baby was dead. You wanted to hide the bump, and to run away so you didn’t have to deal with reality just yet. You had to once again tell Alexia that you fucked up. It couldn’t have been anyone else’s mistake. It had to be yours. You had been so careful, but you had that one piece of shrimp you shouldn’t have had a few weeks ago and you had a stomachache a few days ago without connecting in to the pregnancy. Alexia had insisted on seeing a doctor, but you insisted that you were perfectly fine. And now you were paying the consequences for it.
“Hola, mi amor, lo siento mucho. The traffic was horrible, so I parked upfront. Don’t expect anything but a fine” the Spaniard sang as she walked into the room, a little out if breath. Her smile quickly faded as she saw your serious grin. “Preciousa, are you okay, no?” She asked with a shaky voice as she pulled a chair out to sit close to you while she grabbed your hand. You shook your head as tears formed in your eyes. “Ale, she said that she was gonna get the doctor to come look” you mumbled as your head hang down. “Oh” alexia said as her good energy died out. “I’mo sorry” you said as you buried your face in your hands. “I’m so sorry, ale. I’ll do better next time, I promise” you said as a tear escaped your eye. “Amor, let’s wait for the doctor. It will be okay. I can get some time off and we can travel, just stay at a resort and relax in the heat, si?” She said as her hand touched your belly as if it was purely routine. “But for now, let’s wait for the doctor” she said as she kissed the side of your tiny belly that were still covered by your sweater. You nodded as you tried to distract yourself with the thought of going on vacation. Thailand would be nice, or Bali. Or south-Africa. Greece was also nice, but you had already been there. Cap verde was close and had lots of beautiful beaches. You sat in silence for a while until the door swung open again. “Sorry again, Mrs.Putellas, let’s take a look now shall we” the older woman said as she gestured for the doctor to sit down on the chair to look at the ultrasound. You unwillingly leaned backwards and pulled up your sweater awaiting your penalty. The midwife pointed on the screen and the doctor nodded. “Mhm, I see” she said as she moved the probe around on your belly. You held your breath terrified of the words that were about to come out of her mouth. You didn’t wanna hear it. You gripped Alexia’s hand hard and got a second of reassurance when she squeezed back.
“So, the results. Two things.” The doctor started as your heart-rate skyrocketed. Alexia gripped tighter in your hand and you felt her skin becoming somewhat damp. “First: Your little girl is perfectly fine, she’s small for her age, but she’s getting there” the doctor said as you gasped. Your little girl. A girl. A girl with long blonde hair and blue eyes looking like her mami. “A girl?” Alexia said as her eyes teared up. The doctor nodded as she smiled. “A girl, a princesa” she said as she smiled. She turned around the screen of the ultrasound so you could see your daughter. She was moving her legs slightly, but she still wasn’t big enough that you could feel it. “The second thing i wanted to tell you is, well, exactly that. Second. The second baby is also a girl. Twins. Most likely identical.” She said. Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped. “Que? There’s-there’s two?” alexia said as she scooted closer to the screen as the doctor pointed out the second twin. “Si, dos, correct. She was just hiding behind her sister, which is why she hasn’t shown herself yet” the doctor explained as she gave tons of information about how check ups were gonna have to happen more often than before. You didn’t catch any of it, as you were just releaved that the baby was alive. Your eyes were glued to the baby on the screen. Well, the babies. The girls. Your two girls. They were fine, healthy and growing. You were snapped out of your thoughts when the doctor and the midwife left the room to allow you to breathe. None of you said a word. The room was dead quiet.
“I-I guess we need to go shopping again” she stuttered while looking it you. You nodded. “Two cribs, two strollers, two carseats for both of the cars, oh my god! Do we need a new car to fit the girls??” She panicked as her eyes widened kicking your brain into action. “Babe, it’s okay. There is two girls. They are both healthy. Everything is good. We are all good.” You said as you stood up and embraced her. She held you tight. “God, I just can’t believe it. There are gonna be little girls running around soon. Not just any little girls, our little girls” she said as she wrapped her arms around you kissing the top of your head. “Yea, our little girls. And twice the love” You said as you breathed in her scent instantly calming you. “Our perfect little girls” she said as she placed a hand on your belly. «Our perfect little girls» you repeated as she kissed you.
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passengerprincessblog · 2 months ago
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"Love and Affection" Lewis Hamilton Short
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Summary: Y/N wakes up sick and Lewis takes care of her.
I roll over in bed, my eyes heavy and my limbs weighed down like lead. I glance up at the high ceilings of Lewis’s bedroom; it’s vast, luxurious, and usually makes me feel like I’m waking up in a dream. But today, everything feels muted, dulled by the scratchiness in my throat and the ache in my head. I let out a low groan, hoping somehow the sound might bring some relief. Soft sheets cocoon me, but even they can’t provide any comfort right now.
“Lewis?” I try to call out, but my voice comes out weak, hoarse, barely a whisper. For a moment, I worry he won’t hear me.
I press a hand to my forehead, feeling the unmistakable warmth of a fever. I feel miserable, and the only thought in my mind is, Where’s Lewis? A pang of guilt hits me—I probably slept through his morning routine again, and he’s probably gone off to start his day. Why do I always sleep in so much? I feel the sting of helplessness, and before I know it, my eyes are misty. I grab the water on the nightstand, take a slow sip, letting it soothe the burn in my throat, even if only temporarily.
Just then, I hear footsteps in the hall. A flicker of hope stirs inside me, and a moment later, Lewis appears in the doorway, one of his EarPods in and the other dangling from his ear. His eyes fall on me, taking in my disheveled state, and I see concern flood his expression.
“Did you call me, baby girl?” he asks, pulling out his EarPod completely. His gaze softens as he steps into the room.
“Yeah…” I whisper, sinking back into the bed. “I don’t feel good.” My voice sounds rough, like sandpaper.
His brows knit together as he crosses the room and sits on the edge of the bed. “Don’t feel good? What do you mean?” His tone is a gentle scolding as he presses the back of his hand to my forehead, the coolness of his skin like a balm.
“Baby…” he murmurs, his voice laced with worry. “You’re burning up.” He sets his EarPods and phone down, his hand lingering against my cheek, soothing me with his touch.
“I told you, you need more rest,” he says softly, a hint of reprimand in his tone, but I can tell he’s more concerned than anything else. He stands up and disappears into the bathroom, leaving me with a pang of guilt.
“I’m sorry…” I murmur, my voice small.
He returns a moment later, arms full of various pill bottles and a couple of little medicine cups. He looks focused as he reads the instructions on each bottle, muttering under his breath about doses and timing. Finally, he pours a couple of pills into his hand, holding them out to me.
“Here, take these,” he says, his voice gentle but firm. I take the pills from him, feeling a strange mix of relief and embarrassment as he watches me like a hawk. Then, he pours some syrupy medicine into a little plastic cup, handing it to me with a sympathetic smile.
“And this…” he says, holding it up. I make a face, dreading the bitter taste, but he raises an eyebrow, giving me a playful yet stern look. I roll my eyes but obediently swallow the medicine, grimacing as it slides down.
“Ugh, gross,” I croak, my voice rasping more than I’d like. Lewis’s expression softens even further, and he reaches out to gently tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, his fingertips lingering on my cheek.
“My poor baby…” he murmurs, stroking my cheeks with a touch so tender it almost makes me want to cry again. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.” His warm hand cradles my face, his thumb brushing gently along my skin, and I lean into his touch, finding comfort in it.
I frown, feeling even more vulnerable under his gaze. He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead, the warmth of his lips a stark contrast to the chill I feel from the fever.
“I’m here… all day. I’ll take care of you,” he whispers, wrapping his arms around me, pulling me close in a gentle embrace. I nestle into his chest, feeling his heartbeat steady and strong beneath my ear.
“Thanks, lovey,” I say softly, feeling my eyes close as I relax into his hold. His arms feel like a fortress around me, a place where nothing bad could ever reach me.
He pulls back slightly, patting my head with a comforting smile. “Let me go make you some soup, okay?”
I nod, too tired to say anything else, and he kisses the top of my head before heading out of the room. The bed feels colder without him, and I sink back into the pillows, letting my eyes drift shut as I listen to the sounds of him bustling around in the kitchen.
After what feels like only a few minutes, but could have been longer, I hear him come back. He’s balancing a tray in his hands with a bowl of steaming soup, a small glass of juice, and a couple of crackers.
“Look at you, all pampered,” he teases, setting the tray on the nightstand before carefully helping me sit up. “Got your royal treatment right here.”
I can’t help but smile, despite the way my throat aches. “You know… I don’t deserve you,” I murmur, my voice barely a whisper.
“Shh,” he says, ladling a spoonful of soup and holding it up to my lips. “None of that, alright? I’m here because I love you.” He brings the spoon to my lips, and I take a small sip, the warmth spreading through me. It’s comforting, the taste of the broth, and the way he’s taking care of me.
As I eat, he stays by my side, chatting about the most random things—what the weather’s like outside, some silly video he watched, even a story about his training mishaps. He does everything to make me smile, and it works. I feel lighter, less like I’m weighed down by the fever.
“Thank you for being here,” I say, setting the empty bowl aside. My throat still aches, but I feel a bit better, even if it’s just because he’s here.
He tucks me back into bed, adjusting the covers around me. “Always, baby girl. Now you rest,” he says, brushing a soft kiss to my forehead. He reaches over, dimming the lights, and I close my eyes, feeling his hand in mine as I drift off, comforted by his warmth and love.
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gay-dorito-dust · 11 months ago
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OKAY hear me out
Soft!Jason with a very touchy S/O, like we all know Jay alr has SO much trauma and he needs to constantly be touching them, making sure they're still with him, and the S/O, they're more than happy about this (LOVE LANG IS PHYSICAL CONTACT), constantly holding hands, little shoulder bumps, snuggling, forehead touches (!!!), bascially giving a Nick/Charlie vibe here but STILL
lol sorry about the long rant this thots just stuck in my head
(also can i be 🐺anon?)
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Yes you may be 🐺 anon. :)
Jason wouldn’t consider himself to be a touchy person or someone who’s primary way of showing appreciation and love through physical touch like you. And yet after everything he’s been through and done, Jason finds himself extending out a hand and wordlessly intertwining your fingers together, letting out a deep sigh of relief as everything became okay again. All just because he was holding onto you.
You made everything okay for Jason.
So you knew when it was really bad whenever Jason was practically clinging onto you with no intentions of letting go. His grip was like a vice that would tighten at any signs of movement as he thought you were trying to pull away, when in actuality you were just trying to adjust yourself to a more comfortable position, and his breathing was uneven and ragged like he had just ran a marathon without any breaks. He’d go even further by burying his face deep into your chest just so he could feel that you were alive and still with him.
It hurt you to see him like this, it truly did, and so you’d respond to his need for touch in kind by running your hand up and down his back and resting your forehead against his head, pressing kisses into it every now and then whenever you heard the sound of pitiful, soft whimpering coming from the back of his throat as you cooed softly at him gentle reminders that you weren’t going anywhere without him.
‘I’m here. I’m right here Jason, you can feel me breathing can’t you?’
‘Yeah.’ He murmurs and you press a kiss against head.
‘Then that should be more than enough proof to know that I’m not leaving you, not now, not ever and I’ll prove it everyday if I have to.’ You tell him and you truly meant what you said as the following days you would do a plethora of things to set Jason’s mind at ease and quite any and every inner demon he had that tried to make him think otherwise.
In the mornings you would snuggle yourself further into Jason. Making sure that your forehead was pressed against his, rubbing your noses together and kissing his eyelids until they flutter open to reveal his beautiful eyes, making sure that you were the first thing Jason saw and welcoming him into the morning with a soft smile and a series of kisses scattered to his cheeks, jaw and lips.
‘Good morning handsome.’ You greeted him.
‘It’s always a good morning when you’re the first thing I see angel.’ He greeted you back in kind, voice low and raspy as his hands on your lower back kept you within close proximity.
‘It looks like someone’s been reading too much Jane Austen as of late to be this romantic first thing in the morning.’ You teased, smiling more at his words as he shrugs. ‘Guilty as charged but I don’t need Jane Austen to be romantic when it comes naturally whenever I’m with you.’ You smother him in more kisses after that because you were unable to come up with anything that could compare that to.
In the evening when you and Jason were starting to settle down after an eventful day, you could often be found sat next to him on the couch as he read his book while holding onto your thigh with his free hand, his thumb would trace patterns into your skin; Whereas you would go through your phone and occasionally pressing you knee against his. It was a relaxing moment the two of you often found yourselves in that it might as well have become somewhat of a tradition; sitting in comfortable silence with one another doing your own things in tandem.
However Jason -whenever he felt you weren’t close enough to his liking- would press his shoulder against yours and lean in to press a kiss to your temple before going back to reading his book. ‘I feel like I’m rubbing off on you with how much more touchy you’ve been lately.’ You told him after a while and Jason bookmarks his place in the story and puts the book down on the table infront of you before looking over at you.
‘Does it bother you when I do that?’ He asks, feeling a little vulnerable.
‘No.’ You said without hesitation and grabbed his hand, intertwining your fingers together and kissing each and every one of his knuckles before resting your conjoined hands on your lap. ‘I love that you feel comfortable enough to reach out to me for physical comfort. It means a lot and I’d never want to undermine that.’ You continued and you could see Jason visibly relax as a smile graced his lips.
‘You almost scared me half to death there sweetheart.’ He says in relief. ‘And the reason why I reach out for you for comfort is because you bring me comfort and bring my mind some semblance of peace.’ He admits and you couldn’t help but squeeze his hand as a silent way to echo his sentiment that he too brought you comfort. Jason smiled and brought your hand to his lips, mimicking you by pressing kisses to each and every one of your knuckles while maintaining eye contact with you; It was a simple enough action to make anyone flustered at the intensity of his seemingly never ending devotion.
‘I love you Jaybirdie and thank you for choosing me to be your safe place.’ You said softly.
‘I love you too sweetheart and thank you for being my safe place.’ Jason replied, pulling you in by your joined hands, caging you against his warm chest, as he shifted his position to lay down on the couch where you both took a well deserved nap.
No nightmares or night terrors greeted Jason that night as he help you in his arms, dreaming of nothing but you and only you and your smile. His safe place.
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