#this sounds like casi feelings

[emmylksblog]

OBSESSED // H.FORT

request: can you write about hector being a tease and like obsessed with the reader but like in a romantic way

genre: fluff, smut

warnings: shower sex, never explicit smut only highlighted

words: +2000

a/n: am i getting better at writing smut or i’m just delusional? 🤨

Hector Fort, the rising star of FC Barcelona, was an affectionate and devoted boyfriend who was completely smitten with you. He couldn't help but be obsessed with everything about you, from the way you carried yourself to the way you spoke.

He was always eager to please you and ensure your happiness, whether it was by massaging your feet, tending to your hair, or letting you pamper him with your skincare expertise. Hector was obedient and compliant when you needed him to be and always tried to lift your spirits when you were feeling down.

He was infatuated by you, and his devotion knew no bounds. Whether it was after a tough training session or a hard match, he would make sure to give you all the attention you deserved. Hector could never get enough of you, and it was clear that he thought the world of you. He loved being able to be vulnerable and let you take care of him, and he enjoyed spending every spare moment he could with you, just appreciating your presence and company.

He trusted you implicitly and would never dream of letting anyone else touch his hair, except for you. You were the only person he'd let shape and style his locks, knowing that you'd only ever do what was best for him. In return, he would gladly do your hair or any other thing you asked, just to see the smile on your face and make you happy.

The sound of laughter and banter filled the room as Hector and his friends were engaged in a competitive game of FIFA. You weren't home yet, as you were still out shopping, but when you finally returned, the sight of his friends didn't deter Hector from his usual affectionate greeting.

He quickly abandoned the game to give you a warm kiss on the lips and eagerly helped you unpack the food, his focus being solely on you. He barely even acknowledged his friends as he was so happy to see you.

Hector's teammates, Marc, Pau and Lamine, chuckled and teased Hector about how whipped he was for you, but he didn't seem to care. He was completely smitten and always eager to show his affection for you, no matter who was around.

As he finished unpacking the groceries, he wrapped his arms around your waist and nuzzled his head in your neck, inhaling your scent and giving you another, tighter, hug.

As you thanked Hector for helping you unpack the groceries, you couldn't resist teasing him about how much he had missed you. He grinned sheepishly and ruffled his hair as you stroked it.

Marc, Pau and Lamine, who were still in the living room playing the game, couldn't help but chime in.

"Parece que alguien no pudo aguantar una hora sin su preciada novia eh Hector" says Marc. (It looks like someone couldn't last an hour without his precious girlfriend, huh Hector)

"More like a minute." Pau added.

"You've got it bad, bro." said Lamine while taking a snack.

Hector just shrugged and rolled his eyes at his friends, unfazed by their teasing. He was used to their banter and knew they were just jealous of the bond he had with you. He leaned into your touch as you toyed with his hair, his eyes never leaving your face.

"Can you blame me? Casi muero de aburrimiento con ellos" (I almost died of boredom with them)

You couldn't help but chuckle and shake your head at his dramatic response.

"Oh, poor baby. You couldn't survive an hour without me?"

Hector feigned a pout and nodded sheepishly, leaning into you more.

The other three snickered from across the room, clearly enjoying the banter.

"Oh, shut up, Hector. We're not that bad." says Marc quickly being supported by Pau and Lamine.

Hector playfully scowled and stuck out his tongue at his friends before turning back to you, the pout lingering.

"See how they treat me?" he mock-complained, putting on a dramatic act.

You chuckled and continued to stroke his hair, finding his antics endearing.

"You really missed me that much handsome?" you asked, pretending not to believe him.

Hector smiled sheepishly and nodded, his eyes glued to yours.

Marc sauntered over to where you and Hector were standing in the kitchen, his usually cocky demeanor in place. He greeted you with a warm hug and a smirk.

"Hey, you. Good to see you."

Marc then turned to Hector, who was looking a bit annoyed at his approach, and couldn't resist the urge to tease him again.

Marc chuckled and ruffled Hector's hair playfully.

"Don't worry, bro. I'm not trying to steal your girl away."

Hector swatted at his hand and tried to fix his messy hair as Marc continued to tease him.

"You wouldn't have a chance anyway," he said, trying to keep his cool.

Marc feigned shock, placing a hand over his heart.

"Oh, wow. Eso ha dolido." (that hurt)

Growing tired of the banter between Marc and Hector, you decided it was time to take a moment for yourself. You gave Hector a quick kiss before excusing yourself to the upstairs bathroom to take a shower.

As you left, you could hear the sound of the four boys arguing loudly in the kitchen, their voices and laughter following you as you ascended the stairs.

Hector turned to his friends, who were all still lingering in the kitchen, and shot them a look.

"Come on, guys, it's getting late. You all have girlfriends to get back to, too."

Marc made a pouty face, but Pau and Lamine both nodded in agreement, reluctantly taking the hint.

Marc rolled his eyes, crossing his arms and giving Hector a playful scowl. "Ya me has cambiado por la novia" (so you're already replacing me with your girlfriend, huh?)

"Eres un idiota, además ella es mucho más guapa que tú." Hector responded, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. (you're such an idiot, besides she is prettier than you)

Marc pretended to be offended, letting out an exaggerated huff and Hector just chuckled, giving Marc a friendly slap on the back as a farewell.

"See you around," Lamine said with a smirk, giving Hector a friendly pat on the shoulder as he walked past.

Pau chuckled and added, "Don't miss us too much."

Hector rolled his eyes but smiled, secretly glad for the opportunity to have you all to himself.

"Yeah, yeah. Get out of here."

Hector wasted no time in following you upstairs, feeling excited at the idea of joining you in the shower. He made his way to the bathroom, hoping you hadn't finished yet and he could surprise you.

He softly opened the door to the bathroom, listening for the sound of the shower running before slowly entering.

As Hector quietly entered the bathroom, he heard you call out his name. He smiled and leaned against the doorframe, admiring your beautiful figure through the steamed up glass of the shower.

"Can I join you?" he asked, his voice already a bit huskier.

At your approval Hector quickly disrobed, his eyes never leaving your body as he stepped into the shower behind you. The warm water cascaded over both of your bodies, the steam adding an intimate touch to the atmosphere.

He gently wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close, his touch almost reverent as he began to run his hands over your body.

"Let me take care of you, mi amor."

Leaning in, he began to gently knead and massage your shoulders, his strong hands working away the knots and tension that had built up throughout the day. The hot water and the skillful movements of his fingers soon had you relaxed and moaning in pleasure.

Hector continued his ministrations, his focus entirely on you. He left a trail of kisses down your neck and across your shoulder blades, his lips soft and reverent against your skin.

His hands moved down your back, tracing small circles and lines with his fingertips, sending shivers down your spine.

"You work too hard," he murmured in your ear, his voice a low rumble. "You deserve to be pampered."

He gently turned you around so that your back was pressed against the tiled wall, and he stared into your eyes, his own filled with a mixture of adoration and desire.

Hector lifted your chin with a single finger, his other hand still resting on your hip. His touch was gentle but firm, and his gaze was unwavering.

He leaned down and captured your lips in a deep, passionate kiss, his tongue dancing with yours as the water continued to cascade over your bodies.

You respond eagerly, your arms wrapping around his neck as you moan into the kiss. Your bodies press closer together, the heat of the water and the heat of desire combining to make you both feel as though you're on fire.

You let your hands roam over his broad shoulders and chest, feeling the ripple of muscle beneath the water-slicked skin.

The kiss deepens, become more intense, and Hector presses you even tighter against the wall, the cool surface a stark contrast to the heat of his touch. You can feel the evidence of his desire, hot and hard against your hip, and it only adds to the growing hunger within you.

"I need you, mi amor," Hector murmured against your lips, his voice thick with need. "I want to make you feel good."

He gently nudges your legs apart, his hand trailing down your thigh as he positions himself closer to you. The tension and desire between you is almost palpable, and the steam from the shower only seems to amplify it.

You gasp as he positions himself between your legs, your chest heaving with anticipation. You feel his hands gently grip your hips, and you let your head fall back against the wall, surrendering yourself completely to him.

"Please," you breathe, your voice a near whisper. "Do whatever you want to me."

Hector grins at your request, the possessive and dominant side of him coming out to play.

"As you wish," he says, his voice low and firm.

He leans in and captures your lips in another intense kiss, his hands gripping your hips even tighter as he begins to move against you.

You gasp into the kiss as his hips buck against yours, the friction sending waves of pleasure through your body. You lift one leg, wrapping it around his waist, your body seeking more of that delicious friction.

"Si" you whisper against his lips. "Hazme tuya." (make me yours)

Hector's eyes darkened at your words, and he let out a guttural moan against your lips, his control slipping. He deepened the kiss even further, his tongue tangling with yours in a heated dance.

His hips rocked against you, the movement becoming more desperate as he sought to claim you completely.

Hector's hands grip your thighs, helping to support your weight as you wrap your legs fully around his waist. He backs you up into the wall even further, pinning you against it as he continues to grind into you.

He moans at the feeling of you wrapped around him, his eyes dark with desire. "Te amo" he gasps against your neck.

"Y yo a ti Hector" you gasp back, the words spilling from your lips as the ecstasy builds between you.

Your hips move in rhythm with his, the friction and pressure creating a delicious coil of tension deep within you. You cling to him, your nails digging into his flesh as you seek release.

Hector's breathing is ragged and uneven, his body straining with the effort to hold back. But your words and the feeling of you clinging to him is too much to resist.

He buries his face in your neck, his lips and teeth nipping and sucking at your skin, leaving marks that will surely be there the next day.

Hector grunts as you start to ride him harder, the movement driving him wild with desire. His hands grip your hips even tighter, helping to guide your movements.

"Mierda," (shit) he whispers, his voice a strained growl. "You're gonna be the end of me."

You gasp and moan, your hips moving in a desperate, erratic rhythm as you chase your release. Your hands grip his shoulders, your nails digging into his flesh, leaving red marks as your body grows taut with pleasure.

You can feel his own need growing, burning hotter and hotter as he works to bring you over the edge.

And just as you feel yourself reach the peak of ecstasy, you feel a low, guttural moan against your skin as Hector follows you over the edge, his body shuddering as he comes undone.

You both cling to each other, the hot water still cascading over your panting, trembling bodies.

For a few moments, you simply stand there, regaining your breath and steadying your racing hearts. Hector holds you tight, his arms enveloping you as he presses gentle kisses to your shoulder and neck.

"Mi amor," he murmurs, his voice still thick with pleasure. "Eres increíble." (you're incredible)

You smile at his words, feeling a mix of contentment and satisfaction wash over you. You turn your head to face him, your eyes meeting his.

"You're not so bad yourself," you tease, your voice still a little breathless.

Hector grins and pecks your nose before replying, "I hope that wasn't too tiring for you. We might have to do it again, just to be sure."

You laugh and playfully hit his shoulder, rolling your eyes at his unabashed flirting. But secretly, you're actually considering his suggestion. The way he was able to bring you to such heights of pleasure was addicting.

Hector chuckles and pulls you even closer, his hands roaming up and down your back in a soothing gesture.

"Come on, let's finish cleaning up and shower so we can get to bed."

He grins and winks at you, mischief dancing in his eyes.

You laugh at his wink and nod, agreeing that it's time to finish up in the shower and get some rest. You spend the next few minutes cleaning each other up, the moment now filled with comfortable silence and gentle touches.

Once you're all cleaned up, you both step out of the shower. Hector grabs a towel and gently starts drying you off, taking care to be extra thorough.

"You know," he says as he runs the towel over your shoulders and back. "I may have to start taking more cold showers after being with you."

You laugh and teasingly ask "Oh yeah? Why's that?"

Hector grins and looks you up and down, his eyes heating as he takes in your form wrapped in a towel.

"I think it's pretty obvious," he purrs, leaning in to press a kiss to your collarbone. “I’m obsessed with you.”

You hum in response, enjoying the feel of his lips on your skin. You grab the other towel and start drying him off, taking your time to be thorough as well.

"I think I'm just as obsessed with you," you admit, your eyes raking over his muscled torso.

Hector smirks, clearly pleased with your words. He grabs the towel and finishes drying himself off, before pulling you into his arms.

He wraps the towel around both of you, encasing you both in a warm and cozy cocoon. He nuzzles his face into your hair, inhaling your scent.

"Let's get a move on before I get tempted to have you again," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire.

You chuckle and nod, knowing that if you stay wrapped up like this any longer, you'd both end up getting distracted again.

"Alright, lead the way," you say, stepping out of the bathroom with him wrapped around you, the towel still around both of your bodies.

Hector leads you into the bedroom, pulling the blankets back and guiding you to the bed. Once you're both settled under the covers, he pulls you close, cuddling you against his chest.

"I love you," he murmurs, his voice soft and sleepy.

You smile and wrap your arms around him, feeling content and warm in his embrace. "I love you too," you reply, pressing a kiss to his bare chest.

[joonberriess]

⋆ TAGS — really soft and domestic, TW: this deals with postpartum depression, baby daddy!jk, soft lil kisses, insecure!oc, angsty as hell, this is more of a comfort fic, mentioned baby, oc rlly struggles but jk is super supportive, mentioned past pregnancy, this made me cry, soft hours, jk pampers his lovely gf, CANON AUUUU JK’S JUST JK HERE LMAO

⋆ WORD COUNT — 2.4 k

“vámonos a comer un heladito, tu princesita, cómprame cositas. en mis tacones casi todo el día, dame un foot-rub and ice out mi tobillo,”

Your eyes fluttered under the feeling of lips sliding across your forehead, eyelid, and nose. You hear Jungkook laughing quietly as he envelops you in his strong arms and tugs you close. His murmurs and pestering have you pulling a face in your sleep, nose scrunched cutely given the way he coos teasingly.

“What time is it?” You mumble softly and blankly stare back at him, eyes heavy from sleep.

“Noon.” This has you going stiff, “Relax baby, he’s okay your mom came early to pick him up.” He comfortingly strokes over your side and backside.

You sink back into the sheets and nod, “Why didn’t you wake me?” You mumble under your breath as your eyes flutter shut.

Jungkook pressed more gentle kisses to your forehead with a low rumble, “You need a break, figured maybe we could go out–do some shopping, go to that sushi place you’ve been dying to try.. That sounds good, yeah?” He murmurs.

You hum, “It does, feels like I haven’t been out in forever.”

He waits with a bated breath and smiles softly when you open your eyes and stare back with more clarity, all traces of sleep etched away. “You’re so pretty, y’know that?” He brushes a strand of hair out of your face.

A subtle heat rises in your cheeks as you smile back, “Even with baby barf and spit all over my shirt?”

“The prettiest.” He leans over to kiss your nose, looking into your eyes with a twinkle in his own. He looks at you like you’ve just hung the stars for him.

Shyly, you press a soft smooch to his lips before flopping flat on your back with a sigh, “The fridge’s nearly empty isn’t it?” You mumble, “I’m sorry, I meant to go the other day but I ended up—”

“You’re fine, it’s okay. You know I’m here too right?” Jungkook reaches over to hold your hand, “Don’t worry about it baby, you’ve got your hands full right now and I get it. ‘s okay to ask for help too.”

You look at him with a soft smile, “I love you.” You lay a quick kiss on his cheek and roll out of bed to head to the bathroom.

Jungkook huffs, “Only one? On the cheek too..” He grumbles like a petulant child, sitting up in the messy sheets tangled around his hips and his bare chest out for your viewing.

“Get ready, it was YOUR idea to go out too so don’t make us late.” You fondly roll your eyes, you can hear him whine about something else behind you as the door shuts.

“…..” You pass in front of the body length mirror, pausing for a moment to observe your appearance. Your hands come up to rest over your tummy as you stare long and hard. “…”

You better get ready.

.

“y/n.”

“y/n?”

You snap out of your daydream and look over at Jungkook curiously, “Yeah?”

“I asked if you wanted to check out the fruits, it’s strawberry season and I’m sure they brought out all the fresh stuff.” Jungkook doesn’t seem at all bothered by the fact that you’ve spaced out for a second time since entering the store.

You shake your head, “I don’t like strawberries.” You say disinterestedly.

‘But you ate them your whole pregnancy, what’s wrong now?’ Your brain is screaming at you to just say yes and deal with it but you can’t.

He gives a soft hum, “That’s fine. Is there anything you wanted to get?” He steers the shopping cart away from the fruits, leading you down an aisle filled with spices and other cooking ingredients.

“Um, what was that thing you bought last time? When you made that white stew.” You scrunch your nose, “Ugh I forgot.”

“Ohh, you mean the cream stew mix? Uhh I think it’s down this aisle lemme check.” Jungkook leaves the cart with you as he trails down the aisle looking up, down, and around.

You pick out a few things to try out later on and happily make your way over. “Did you find it?” You curiously peek over his shoulder, damn near yelling because he shoots back up with a ‘ah-ha!’.

“What?” He innocently says after noticing the scowl on your face.

“You scared me.” You huff and punch his arm gently, “C’mon, I wanna get some chips and the aisle is back that way.” Jungkook happily trails after you, telling you all about his upcoming Calvin Klein campaign.

.

“Look,” Jungkook snorts as he holds up a pair of lace g-strings, “you mean to tell me this tiny triangle covers your entire pus–”

“Jungkook!” You hiss quietly after noticing a few older women turn their heads, “Put those down.” You snatch the panties away and toss them back into their respective drawers.

He cheekily grins and picks up another pair of underwear, “What? I didn’t do anything, I was just asking.” He chuckles.

“You are so dumb.” You giggle quietly, “Stop!! You’re going to get us kicked out, I thought I had one baby not two.”

“But babyy this is so boring, jus’ a bunch of girlie stuff and these women keep lookin’ at me like I’m a creep but I swear I’m just trying to help you.” He pouts.

You shake your head fondly, “Here, go find something to buy or do while I finish up here.” His eyes light up and he presses a messy smooch to your cheek before practically sprinting out.

Your eyes slowly turn over to the mannequin sitting tall on the platform donned in a new lingerie set. You stare at it for what seems like eternity while the world goes on about their day around you. Eventually a staff comes to break you out of your bubble.

“Is everything okay miss? Were you interested in our new spring collection?”

“Oh, um yeah, well I’m trying to surprise my boyfriend you know? I don’t know if he’ll like it ‘n stuff.” You murmur softly, eyes lowered and averted from the mannequin.

“Mmm.. what do you like?”

“Silk, maybe a babydoll or teddy..? I think.” You can’t stomach the idea of wearing a two piece, because then that means your….

“We have just the set then, we got a ton of new items for this spring. ” She grins while leading you away.

When you come out of the store, Jungkook’s barely walking back. He has this goofy little smile on his face as he stops in front of you, barely containing his excitement. “Guess what.”

“What did you do?” You giggle softly and eye the bag in his hand.

“I got this for you.” He brings out a large shirt and holds it up proudly, “It says: Best Milf Ever.”

You stare at the words with disbelief and then you’re breaking out into uncontrollable laughter. People around you look in curiosity but you can’t stop, you feel like you’re about to pee from how hard you’re laughing.

And Jungkook?

He stands there with a fond smile, gazing at you lovingly as he puts the shirt back, “You like it?”

You haven’t laughed nor felt this much joy in a while. “I love it.”

.

After having dinner Jungkook takes you out for ice cream. You were a bit burnt out from being out all day so you waited in the car while he went inside to buy the ice cream.

You think back to everything that happened today, it feels nice. You make a mental note to ask Jungkook to take you to a cat cafe sometime later on in the week. “Oh my god.” You mutter in embarrassment.

Jungkook’s walking back with a monstrosity of a ice cream sundae and then your perfectly NORMAL scoop of sherbet with gummies on top. “Jungkook what is all that mess?” You whine.

“What? I wanted triple chocolate with sprinkles and fudge.” He slips into the car and hands the small bowls over, “C’mon you gotta try it.”

“Hell no! This looks like it can either send me to do number three or I’m gonna puke my guts out.” You hiss.

“Number three doesn’t exist, nice try.” Jungkook scoffs softly while pulling out of the parking lot.

“It does now.” You mumble, ignoring his loud laughter.

You can’t hide the face you make while Jungkook eats that horrendous dessert. He doesn’t even care that you’re judging him as he happily watches his little Netflix show he’s been yapping about as of lately.

“I knew it, it was her all along..” He mutters to himself as he eats a large spoonful of ice cream.

“I’m going to the kitchen, you want anything?” You can’t take it anymore as you stand abruptly and pass by.

“No.”

You put your ice cream away and drink a glass of water in the kitchen. You enjoy the peace and quiet, it’s been a cool minute since you’ve had some time to yourself. Between caring for a newborn and balancing your everyday life, shit’s been hard.

Not that Jungkook doesn’t help, but sometimes you feel like you put too much on him. He says he doesn’t care but.. you do.

With a heavy sigh you leave the cup in the sink and trail over to your bedroom. The dainty lingerie bag sits on the corner of the bed, you have yet to try it on but you don’t know..

“Fuck it.” You mutter while stripping down and slipping on the pretty babydoll top and matching thong to go with it.

The soft pink and silky smooth feeling of it has you smiling to yourself over how pretty it is on you. The set even came with a robe so you slipped that on too and tied it securely around your waist before heading back out to show your lover.

“Jungkook.” You call out, “What do you think?”

He pauses his show and looks over, his eyes visibly glaze over as he takes you in from head to toe. “Pretty, I like it—pink suits you.” He beckons you over.

Right, he thinks it’s just a robe.

You walk over with a soft hum and stand between his legs, “I got something else, it’s under.”

His eyes darken and he licks his lips, “Can I?” His hands hover over the sash. You can’t help but shiver with the way he looks at you like he wants to eat you alive. Makes you feel hot.

“Yeah..” Your voice comes out breathier than usual, a hint of excitement underlying your tone.

Jungkook unties the knot and slowly pulls your robe off. “Fuck.” He whispers when he sees the pretty babydoll underneath, he gets a peek at your thong too and he’s nearly drooling.

“Shit baby you look so fuckin’ pretty, look at you,” he gently twirls you around with a low whistle.

His hand hovers over your ass, not quite touching but there. You gently pull his hands closer with a soft, “You can touch.” You murmur.

Jungkook audibly gulps and grabs a fistful of your babydoll, he lifts it up enough to slip his hands around both cheeks. He gives both doughy cheeks a tight squeeze before he’s jiggling it in the palms of his hands.

“Can I baby?” He asks softly, “I wanna take you to bed.” To that you nod.

Before you can get another word out, he abruptly stands and hauls you up into his strong arms. You squeal in shock and hit his shoulders, “Jungkook..! Put me down!” You whine.

“No.” Jungkook smirks as he lands a sharp smack to your ass, “Let me take care of you yeah? Just sit ‘n look pretty for me.” He carries you down the hall and kicks the door open, gently tossing you onto the center of the bed.

You bounce back on the mattress with a soft ‘oof’, he doesn’t let up because he’s already crawling over you and landing a sweet yet heated kiss on your lips. You wrap your arms around him and hug him close, enjoying the soft touches.

Jungkook takes his sweet time kissing you, the kiss is slow and his touches are light and feathery. He holds you like you’re made of glass or something, gently cupping your hips and massaging them. It tugs on your poor heart strings and you find yourself tearing up for no reason..?

He pulls away with a soft pant, pressing his forehead to your own as he stares into your eyes with devotion. “Why are you crying baby? Hm? Why’s my pretty girl sad?” He wipes your tears with his thumbs.

“B-Because, you’re so good to me.” You softly hiccup, “Feel safe with you.”

He brushes your hair out of your face and smooches your nose, “Yeah, what else baby. Talk to me.” He murmurs patiently while cupping the side of your cheek.

“You don’t make me feel alone.” You whisper, and his heart breaks seeing you this vulnerable, “I-I know I haven’t been there for you b-but with the baby and–”

“And who said you needed to take care of me? You already have enough with the baby, you spent nine months carrying our baby and you worked hard to bring him into the world my love. Makes me proud of you baby, strongest girl I know.” He softly smiles.

Your heart races and you feel a knot in your throat as you continue listening to him, “You’re going to be okay—we’re okay. You know I’m always going to be right here for whatever you need, you’re doing so good my love.”

You let out a soft sob and bury your face in his shoulder. These past two months of silently struggling with coming to terms of your newfound motherhood and changes with your relationship finally come to a stop. You feel good knowing that Jungkook is so understanding and supportive.

For a while you thought you were going insane, that it was your fault and you were a horrible mother for feeling so…bad.

Even when you were bedridden for days, void of any life and emotion, Jungkook is still here.

“I love you.” Jungkook whispers.

“I love you too.” You sniffle.

Jungkook helps you slip into one of his shirts as the two of you cuddle for the rest of the night watching silly rom-coms. You know the future will be okay.

Everything is okay.

TAGLIST: @fragmentof-indifference @jungkooksseuphoria @kooliv @angelarin @jjeonjjk7 @lilliankoo @pb-n-juju @ellesalazar @saweetspoiled @laylasbunbunny @prettyprincejk @cherrysainttt @hyunjinswifeee @joongraduatewithonor @hellbornsworld @leire-mia @m1sss1mp @lissful @winkii @lifeless-firefly @exactlygreatcoffee @taestoess @ayalies @floweryjeons @softtcurse @lilspinachwrld @tearyjjeon @littleobsessedkitty @lovelovelovebts @angeljmnie @rerefundslocals @bangtans-mama @thvhoe @maddkitt @tvse @ohjeon @teteswtnr @jkslovey12 @kelsyx33 @milfpo1ice @sluttydidi @ztyur @beomgyuult @shescharlie @sweet-sourhotcoco @lalita-7 @hazzzelsdimension @p34rluv @kook-net @bonita0-0 @vmapy @dahliadaenerys @frieschan @lilyflowerguk @sayokodiary @babycandy111 @looneybleus @ash07128 @gyukookswhore @rrosiitas

[ghettogirly]

how do you think armando would react if y’all had the most passionate sex and you left in the middle of the night, acted like nothing had happened at work

𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐎𝐍:

-> synopsis. you and armando had the best night, yet, why do you still choose to pretend to not feel the same?

-> pairing: 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐗 𝐅𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐂 “𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐀“

-> warning: heavy smut, slight dumbification, mix of bodily fluids, unprotected sex (wrap it up!!), angst, mature language, Selena is really annoying, Minors DNI.

-> authors note: thanks for requesting, hope you enjoy! this is probably my proudest work yet. If anyone wants to be apart of my taglist, comment below.

𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆: Screwin - Summer Walker ft. Omarion.

[🕷️]

𝐅𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐊 and red roses slowly glided off the duvet as he moves up and down, matching the male’s thrusts into the helpless girl beneath. Triads of gasps and moans filled the room as the two made love, slaps echoed throughout while the two lovers’ skin connected with each other.

The connections created a white ring around the latino’s cock, caused by the mix of juices between the woman and him. Selena’s back arched as she gripped on the man’s broad shoulders, giving him small, red scratches that would probably lift up by tomorrow.

“Fuck… just like that.” She breathed, running his hands through his hair as he continued to thrust into her.

“You like that?”

Selena doesn’t even have time to answer, the man diving into her neck. Kissing her soft, melanated skin while he leaves a trail of burgundy marks. He quickens his pace, pushing his whole length inside of her, bottoming her out causing her to whine out in pleasure and a little bit of pain. “Ohhh, fuck!”

“You’re taking me so well baby..”

He laughed at your whining, enjoying seeing you lose yourself further and further for him, seeing yourself get frustrated. “You’re so fucking wet..” biting her earlobe ever so gently as he speeds up his pace. His cock pistoning in and out of you cashing him to grunt, losing the ability to control himself more and more.

“Oh fuck baby, please please please..” Selena babbles, the pleasure now being the only feeling there as it clouds her mind. This being the only thing now controlling her cognition and behaviour.

“Agárrate por mí, nena, ya casi estoy ahí..”

“I can’t, i can’t!”

A random act stops her continuous period of babbling, feeling something enter her mouth. It was his thumb, he quickly pulled it out, it making a small ‘Pop!’ sound while a string of saliva comes with it. Dropping on the woman’s exposed torso. Too blinded by the pleasure going on within her, she fails to recognise what he’s just done, until she feels it.

Wet trails of just saliva lead from the top of her vagina to the clit as he slowly presses on it and starts running gently. Armando wraps his one arm around your shoulders as he now continues to pound into the hispanic woman while circling her clit, sending shockwaves through her body due to the temperature play demonstrated by the man. The hot sensation of your clit contrasts with the cool temperature of your man’s thumb, causing them little hairs on your body to stand up, generating goosebumps. Selena’s jet black hair sticks to the pillow as the sweat generating from her head creates a glue type consistency onto the silk pillow behind her.

Her eyes roll back and she stops clawing on the males back, instead throwing her arms to the sides of her. The emotions of arousal causing her to submit to them being too much for the poor girl. Pulsating on the latino’s dick, her lips part. “I can’t wait, i need to..”

The man looks into her eyes. Her heterochromatic eyes stare right back at him. A connection of lust, passion, and weirdly enough, love. Leaning forward, Armando embraces her into a kiss, roughly attacking her lips like a wild animal chasing its prey. Not getting enough of her taste. The woman engages with it just as hard, seeming as if though, she does not want to let him go either. His thrusts become more erratic, clearly reaching his climax too.

“Let’s do it together baby, i’m going to cum in you so fucking bad. i need to-“

“Oh fuck!!”

Without warning, a rush of pleasure cascades down the light-skinned girl, causing her toes to curl as she releases all her juices on him. The woman’s orgasm elicited a sense of relief from the latinx male as he too begins to move faster, his skin slapping against hers before releasing his load into her. His pace begins to slow down, his hips still jolting but dying down ever so slightly. “te sientes tan bien nena..” Armando whispered to the exhausted woman below.

“I fucking love you.”

[🕷️]

𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐋𝐘 3 am in the morning. Selena looked to the left of her and saw a muscular arm over her stomach with the caramel toned male, nuzzling into her neck. His expression was unreadable but he seemed to be at peace with the slow, shallow breathing he did. Finally having a good nights sleep, the first in a while.

Still, even with the comfort of the man lying next to her, she felt ashamed to be here. Or yet, embarrassed. She slept with her boss’s son again. Only supposed to be a one time thing, yet, she foolishly agreed to be friends with benefits. However now, her feelings were involved. She was confused on what to do..

Sighing, she slowly removed his arm before throwing a shirt over her. Selena began to collect her things, guilt washing over her face as she looked back at the male.

He was still sleeping, his pink lips slightly parted as he begins to exhale out of his mouth too.

“I knew i shouldn’t have done this..” The woman whispered to herself, holding the silver crusted pendant that was hanging off her neck, the one Armando got her. Sadness began to creep down her as she basked in her thoughts, negative thoughts at that. “You’re leading him on, he deserves for you to tell him straight up.”

But, how was she leading him on if she loved him too?

How does she love him, if one day she pretends she hates him?

How do you love him if you feel like you’ve sinned after making love?

A deep voice suddenly breaks her train of thought as she hears a ruffle of sheets on the bed and someone clearing their throat. “What are you doing mamí..?”

Selena looks at him with regret filling her eyes, the brown iris now illuminating as the male turns on the lamp next to him.

“Armando..”

“¿De verdad estás huyendo de nuevo?”

“I am not running away. Don’t fucking insult me like that. We haven’t even established what we are, are we lovers, friends with benefits or am i just a girl you use whenever you’re bored!”

“I just fucking said i love you, dejar de tratar de jugar a la víctima. To think that the first time you did this i thought you was overwhelmed because of how sudden it was.”

“You could’ve just said that in the moment-“

“SHUT UP!” Anger boomed from his voice as he shouted, knocking the lamp over in the process as he looked at you with rage but love in his eyes. “Do not try and manipulate me just because you are confused with what you want.”

That silenced her. At a loss for words, she didn’t even bother saying anything else. Was she really manipulative?

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐄. Not only was she ignoring Armando, still hurt about what he said, he was ignoring her too. Making her job easier, which only hurt her more. Was Selena upset because he was right? She loved him so much but why did she not show him that?

Every-time the group had to talk, they would sit apart from each other. Group celebrations were awkward too, Armando didn’t even glance at the poor girl, treating her as if she didn’t even exist. A game that she started, ended up being ran by the true player as she realised she could never beat him in his own game.

She noticed. As did everyone else too. It wasn’t until Kelly had to ask you what was wrong was where you just fell apart. “I fucked up so so bad Kelly. He hates me.” She sobbed into her hands, her hair a mess as sadness yet desperation hung over her head. All the other woman could do was comfort her as she cried into her arms.

Little did she know there was someone behind that door who heard it all.

However, footsteps trailed away from the door, leaving the love they had behind.

[🕷️] 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒:

“Agárrate por mí, nena, ya casi estoy ahí”-Hold on for me, baby, i’m almost there

“te sientes tan bien nena..”- You feel so good baby..

“¿De verdad estás huyendo de nuevo?” - Are you really running away again?

“dejar de tratar de jugar a la víctima.” - Do not try and play the victim.

[joshslater]

Stained

Similar stories and bonus material on my Patreon.

They say when you are in an accident everything moves in slow motion. That wasn't at all how it felt for me. I was driving down a slight slope toward an intersection out in bumfuckyall, where a truck was waiting at a red light. Why they would put a traffic light out here with nothing but crop fields around is beyond me. Getting some extra revenue from people running the lights perhaps. Not busy enough to warrant the installation though. Maybe to stop traffic when harvesters or whatever pass by, but they would move slowly and be pretty darn visible in this terrain.

The belt tensioner yanked me into the seat at the same time as I heard the crash and I had just time to turn my head back from the fields to see the now milky front window, shattered into thousands of small glass cubes suspended by the plastic film on the back of it, give way to the mass that had been thrown off the flatbed and flung into my windshield. Through the widening gap at the top of the windshield liquid was dumped into the car, all over me, and everything turned into black silence with a strong smell of chemicals.

It all went faster than I could register, and I just sat there still with burning eyes, trying to comprehend what had just happened. I somehow had run into the truck. I heard hurried steps outside and someone first trying to open the door then rapping the side window and shouting "Are you hurt, buddy?"

Was I? My shoulder hurt from the seat belt, and I couldn't see anything, but otherwise I wouldn't feel anything damaged. I fumbled a bit to find how to open the door and once successful responded "I'm OK I think. I can't see though."

"Thank Lord. It's wood stain. Had some buckets in the back. Some paint too. It'll make you dizzy and sick, but I wouldn't worry about going blind. Let me help you out and lay you down. I have plenty of water to rinse you."

Despite squeezing my eyes as shut as I could, reasoning that opening them would probably let more paint in than out, I had no problems finding and removing the seat belt, and stepping out of the car. As soon as I was out of the car he grabbed my arm and led me to a spot in front of both vehicles. My mouth tasted of chemicals and I spat on the ground several times.

"Just lie down here, buddy. Are you sure you aren't hurt?" "A bit sore, but nothing really hurts." "That's a relief. The car is probably a write-off with all the damage outside and in. This is all my fault." Without opening my eyes I let myself be guided to the ground while he talked. I could hear the steps of another person getting closer from beyond my car. "It is?" "Casy, get the big jug!" he told the other person, who answered a curt "Yep" in a young man's voice. "I must have put in reverse while waiting for the light and then... reverse into you," he said, talking to me again. "It's a rental. I'm sure they are used to handling things like this." "Just stay still there buddy, and I'll start pouring."

He began pouring water on my face, occasionally wiping with a rag of some sort. "Open your mouth and take some water. Then swig it around and spit it out." We did that a few times. A few more rinses and I dared to open my eyes. He looked like he sounded like. Trucker cap, beard, grey and blue flannel shirt, blue jeans, and boots. Hovering behind him was a boy in his late teens or early twenties, dressed very similarly in camo cap, blue JROTC hoodie, jeans, and boots. For my part I was wood-stain brown and garden-fence white.

"I'm Cliff, this is Casy," Cliff said and gave me his hand to help me up. As I stood up and looked past his pick up I could see my car. It looked worse than I would have expected. While the collision didn't feel that bad, the crumple zones certainly felt it. A few buckets of paint had landed next to it, but clearly the inside was ruined by the ones that had passed through the glass. I had no hope that my travel bag with what little extra clothes I had brought with me had survived either, as I think I had tossed it on the passenger seat. 

"I'm Bradly" "Casy, give Bradly your pop. He can't taste nothing but paint." Casy did a nod and another dull "yep", but jumped into the truck with ease and was quickly out again with a can of Monster. Ignoring that it was opened and with a third gone, I took an eager sip, swirled it in my mouth, and swallowed. When I had emptied the can the taste of oil and paint was almost gone.

"I reckon we need to hose you down before we can do anything else. Casy can stay here while we bring you to the house to clean you up. Then we can figure out how to take care of the car. How's that sound, buddy?"

"Sounds reasonable to me." "I'm sorry, but do you mind getting on the flatbed." He motioned all over my paint-drenched body. "No. Is it far?" "It's a quick drive."

When you are lying on your back on a tarp next to reclaimed wood, slowly drying into the color of an antique table, seeing nothing but the afternoon sky, nothing is a quick drive. I didn't dare move, not so much because I was lying unprotected in the back of a truck that was driving far too fast for my comfort, but because I was soaked in oil and paint and water, and didn't want to mess anything else up. The wind running over my body was chilling, despite the balmy weather. My shoulder and chest hurt from where the belt tightener pulled me back into the seat. Despite the wind there was a strong smell of paint. I felt lightheaded. My mind began to wander. I should probably call the motel that I would be late, or not arriving at all. I was thinking about how I decided to not have a coffee at the diner to get back on the road quicker. I should have bought one. The apple pie slices looked delicious. Eventually however I would see treetops creeping into view and soon after we came to a stop on gravel.

"Where is he?" a woman asked nearby. "Back there," Cliff answered and opened the tailgate. He extended a hand to help me down. "Hey buddy, this is Sarah!" "Hi," Sarah said smiling. "Bradly"

Instead of walking towards the house she motioned toward one of the barns. "Hose is over there. Then you can take a proper shower after." On Sarah's urging I took off everything but my briefs. She suggested I take them off as well, but didn't press the issue. The water was pretty high-pressure and ice cold. Cold water worked better than hot water Sarah claimed, not that hot water was an option outside the house.

Once I was hosed enough that the water didn't run brown anymore, and I felt I was near risking hypothermia, I wrapped myself in an old discolored beach blanket Sarah handed me and we walked back to the house. I shivered and my lightheadedness had turned into a dull, thumping headache. Cliff and the truck were gone. Sarah grabbed one of the white plastic chairs, placed it near the front door, and told me to sit down. "The white paint doesn't stick too bad to the skin, but we're never going to be able to clean this out," she said and touched my hair. I hadn't felt a feeling like that since I used way too much hair gel for Halloween many years ago. It was like my hair and the paint had formed a helmet. She quickly returned from the house with a trimmer on an extension cord. "Sides are not too bad. I can make a flat top," she said and buzzed away, clearly used to taking care of Cliff and Casy. I cringed when I heard it, and was about to stop her, but changed my mind. Better to let her keep as much hair as possible and decide on the real emergency haircut later.

She then led me through the house and what must have been Casy's room, with a home gym and a gaming setup, to his bathroom. Everything was big and roomy, but I guess it is inexpensive to build large when you have lots of land, time, and resources. "Take as much time as you need and use any of the soaps you want. I'll put some clothes on the bed for you. Just throw your briefs in the bathroom bin," Sarah said and left.

I looked in the bathroom mirror, the first time I saw myself after the accident. I looked terrible. The haircut was ugly, of course, but the uneven stain stains all over my body made me look tan and dirty. Like I had spent all day riding a dirt bike in mud, not the last ten minutes being blasted by ice water. I looked as beaten and spent as I felt.

By "any of the soaps" she meant the Axe Total Fresh 3-in-1 shampoo, conditioner, and body wash that there were four opened bottles of in various places in the bathroom. Somehow Casy managed to both have a messy bathroom without having much in it. The water felt like a blessing on my cold, bruised body. I just stood there for a while, letting the warm water rinse me. Then I lathered myself completely and rinsed off three times in a row. Neither the foam nor the water looked discolored, and when I dried myself with the one towel in the room it didn't become stained. The image in the mirror however looked disappointingly identical to before. The same stained me, but now with a more acute headache. Everything smelled like Axe Total Fresh, and it did my head no favors.

I peeked into Casy's room. No one was there and the door to the rest of the house was shut, so I entered and looked at the clothes laid out for me on the bed. Only one of each, so no options. First black compression boxers with a wide Nike band. Then a pair of green-brown socks that looked like what the army issues. Some lightly distressed blue jeans with a black leather belt. A military green Under Armour T-shirt in a glossy material with "patriotic" print with stars and almost-US flags on it. A hunting camo baseball cap. Finally a pair of well-worn leather boots. I put it all on, including the hat to cover the ugly hair and the boots because I wasn't sure what the indoor etiquette here was. Everything fit surprisingly well, though I guess she could have looked at the size of my ruined clothes.

I opened the door and stepped out of the room, trying to find Sarah, or anyone really. How long had I been in the shower? Probably an hour, if not longer. "Hello?" "We're over here," I heard Sarah shout from across the house. I walked in the direction of her voice and was soon joined by Cliff who emerged from another room. "How are you feeling, buddy?" he asked in a concerned fatherly manner. "I think I'm about to have an episode of migraine." "That something you've had before." "Never."

"Take your seats. You over here Brad," Sarah said as we turned the corner into a large kitchen with a table laid for four. "Bud... eh, Bradly." I tried to correct her, but she had turned to the big cast iron pot on the stove. Casy already sat by the table with a phone in his hand, but his eyes were firmly on me. His face didn't reveal any expressions.

Sarah placed the heavy pot on the table and with a big ladle filled my plate with a dark stew. "Here you go, Bud," she said. As the smell of beef stock, fresh herbs, carrots, onions, and slow cooked, rich meat reached my nose I immediately recognized the telltales. Weakening of the jaw. The increase in saliva. I almost threw myself out of the chair, rushed over to the sink, and managed just in time to throw up into the sink. I realized I was sweating. Then another heave of vomit. "Oh, poor buddy," Sarah said and patted my back.  "Here, drink this," she said and filled a glass of water from a pitcher. My body heaved a third time, but nothing came out. "Thanks," I replied and took the glass with some apprehension, waiting to see if my body would do something else. Once it appeared safe I took the glass and started to empty it.

"Casy, make one of them shakes for him. He needs to get something in his belly." Almost reluctantly, like I had ruined his meal, Casy got up and moved towards a cupboard. "I just need to rest I think," I said, my head now mercilessly pounding in pain. "Out of the question. You need something to fortify you."

Casy quickly scooped powder from a large plastic container into a workout shaker bottle thing, poured in some water, gave it a quick shake, and handed it to me. I had barely put it to my mouth when Cliff said "He can barely stand. Take him to your room for a nap." "Come then," Casy said and led the way out of the kitchen, with me following sipping the chalky mixture. "You know the way though," he said once out of earshot from the kitchen. Back inside his room he motioned at the bed and said "This is a bed," deadpan to me. I wanted to say it wasn't my fault his day was ruined. In fact, mine had gone way worse than his, but my head hurt too much for me to care. "Thanks." I put my back on the bed and was out in seconds.

The hard plastic of the ear protectors was what made me wake up properly, and it took a moment to realize what it was and get them off. Almost ripped the cap off with them. These were the radio/bluetooth kind that allowed you to listen to music while you worked. Bright, orange colored cups with the rest of it black. I got up from the bed and left them on the sheets. Apparently I was already fully dressed, so I headed to the kitchen. Sarah was there preparing things.

"Mornin' Ma'am." "Good morning, Buddy." I took my seat. Sarah filled a bowl with porridge, drizzled honey over it, set it on the table in front of me together with a spoon. "Better hurry. Cliff is waiting for you." "Yes, Ma'am."

It wasn't until I began eating I realized how hungry I was, so it wasn't a problem to be quick. Not having seconds though felt rough. Just outside the house was Cliff, doing something with a quad to which he had hooked a trailer full of wooden poles. "Mornin', Sir" "Morning Buddy! Get up in the trailer and make sure nothing shakes out while we drive down the fields. "Yes, Sir."

Once we came to a stop after a bumpy ride, Cliff showed me how to operate the earth drill to make holes, then how to insert a pole, and with the sledge hammer drive it down so it fit securely. He then let me do that while he was working on putting up wires for the electric fence. After we had been at it for quite a while Sarah called on the walkie-talkie and said sheriff Miller wanted to talk to us. We unhooked the trailer and drove up to the farm on the quad, me sitting behind Cliff, straddling him.

Outside the main house Sarah and the sheriff waited for us. It was mostly a boring conversation between Cliff and the sheriff that I tuned out of, but then the sheriff turned to me and asked "And who is this?" "It's Buddy, farmhand for the summer," Cliff answered and took a slight step to the side to give room for the sheriff. The sheriff looked me over for a second. "You were here yesterday?" "Yes, Sir." "Did you see anyone come by yesterday afternoon or evening?" "No, Sir." "Anything else out of the ordinary happened yesterday?" "Yes, Sir. I threw up, Sir. Hasn't happened in years, Sir." "Hahaha." He turned to Cliff again. "If anything comes up let me know. It's not the first traveler that's gotten lost around here, but they usually turn up sooner or later." "They have a habit of doing that, causing extra work for the local sheriff while they are wandering about," Cliff answered, smiling back. The sheriff shook his head and opened his car door. "You ain't wrong."

Once the car was well on its way up the dirt road Sarah motioned at cooler that was on the ground. "I was about to come down with lunch to you boys, but perhaps you want to eat it up here." "Yeah, let's take a breather. This was a close call." Cliff opened a small tool bag that was hanging on the quad and pulled out another pair of orange ear protectors, if not the same as earlier. He turned the knob on them and put them on my head. Noise was sloshing around in my ears like waves breaking on a beach. Voices were whispering all around me. It was impossible to focus on a single voice and hear its message. Just a school of slippery tadpoles swimming around and around. Impossible to grab. Somewhere far in the distance I could hear Cliff talking.

"Let's go even harder with the programming. We don't need him cognisant for the rest of the day."

[fairlyang]

Para mi 🕷️

miguel wanting you to cum over and over again

w/c: 973

pairing: miguel o’hara x latina!reader

tags: 18+ smut. just a lil thought I had! porn no plot. overstimulation, fingering, praise, aftercare.

"Dame otra mami, tu puedes." Miguel murmured while he pumped three fingers into your poor fucked out cunt. (Give me another, you can do it)

You whimpered and closed your eyes shut, your body feeling so overwhelmed after already having three back to back orgasms. "Hazlo para mi, amor." He whispered making you moan and smile. (Do it for me, love)

He had wanted you to cum over and over him like usual, but this time he wanted to see if you could beat your highest score of three.

Not too much but only because he loved teasing you and edging you way before you get to cum for the first time.

Along with the amount of begging he wants to hear from you, every single time. He just couldn't help but want to hear your little pleads and the way your lips would form into a little pout with the most precious little doe eyes.

It was one of his favorite sights but right next to that were the lovely sounds that came out of your pretty mouth when he'd tease you while you were in the middle of pleading for him to let you cum.

All the little cries and moans always drove him insane. He swore he could cum just from hearing your moans while he ate you out or while he watched you ride him.

Just like he was so close to the edge right now while he was between your trembling legs as he fingered you and kissed along your thighs.

Your hands were gripping on his curls, not sure if you wanted him to stay put or push him away but it was definitely starting to feel overwhelming now as you had barely came for the third time less than five minutes ago.

"M-Miguel- es mucho-" you choked out and tried to move your hips back but his open arm quickly pulled them down assuring you won't move. (It's too much)

"Tu puedes bebé, ya casi." He whispers looking up into your eyes. (You can do it baby, almost there)

You gasped as he went in and started sucking on your clit earning himself whimpers from you. He groaned against you and pulled away still looking you directly in the eye when he licks his lips and all your slickness that was on them.

You moaned out in pure bliss from the pleasure he was giving you but also how he never failed to drive you crazy and always managed to make your cheeks a bright red, especially in moments like these.

"Mira que bonita te ves, preciosa." He says and motions to the mirror that was behind him from when he made you ride him reverse cowgirl in front of the mirror. (Look how pretty you look, beautiful)

He wanted you to watch as you took all of him, the way he held on to you, how he slammed his hips up and started fucking you when you looked too tired.

"Miguel-" you whimpered and felt your eyes getting hazy.

He started fucking you deeper at a faster speed which left you breathless. You finally felt your orgasm getting closer and closer as he continued and whispered the sweetest things. "Siempre tan hermosa." (Always so gorgeous)

"Mi amada siempre tan perfecta." (My beloved always so perfect)

"Tan bella." (So beautiful)

You cried out and started to grind your hips when he went back down to get another taste and suck on your clit again. Your legs began shaking more and you were clenching against his fingers as your juices were slipping out and down to your asshole. "Miguel ya voy-" (I'm gonna-)

He pulled away and curled his fingers up hitting that sweet spot oh so perfectly, "Ya se mami, hazlo. Uno más para mi." He murmured and moaned watching your body's reactions. (I know, do it. One more for me)

"Mírate en el espejo nena." He says and you nod, looking at your own reflection. (Look at yourself in the mirror baby girl)

You looked at how Miguel was on his knees and how breathtaking his body was, as if sculpted by Greek gods and sent down just for you.

His fingers worked their magic on you as they always do, when you then feel your entire body shake as you suddenly cum around his fingers, Miguel slowly down making sure you ride out your high. You let out a mixture of cries and moans all while Miguel himself realized he came against the comforter of your shared bed.

You laid back and closed your eyes, trying to calm your breathing down as Miguel slipped his fingers out of you slowly and gently.

You sighed and still felt your body shake involuntarily. You felt something warm against your skin and you open your eyes to see Miguel cleaning you up with a towel. You give him a small smile which he returns as he gently cleans you up.

He was always such a sweetheart after a night like this, always took care of you and made sure you were okay. He wanted to make sure he didn't overstep even if you didn't use your safe word, just wanted to ensure you were okay.

You feel a dent on the bed right next to you and you're softly moved to the top of the bed, now not on the edge of the bed. Miguel carefully wraps his arms around you and you immediately make yourself comfortable, melting into his loving touch.

He kissed your forehead and rubbed soft slow circles along your back as you finally calmed down. "Te amo tanto amor." He whispered and you hum, yet another blush growing on your cheeks. (I love you so much love)

"Te amo mas" you whisper back and feel yourself dozing off. (I love you more)

[storiesforallfandoms]

all the mistakes ~ machine gun kelly

word count: 2866

request?: yes!

“I just started reading your stuff and I'm in love with the Colson stories!

I was wondering if you could do Colson x reader. Reader finds out she's pregnant by Colson and he doesn't think he's ready to be a dad again and abandons reader but then realizes a couple months later that he's truly in love with her and does everything he can to win her back?

If not, it's okay.. thank you ❤️”

description: in which he comes to apologize for all the mistakes he’s made leading up to the birth of their child

pairing: machine gun kelly x female!reader

warnings: swearing, child birth (not in detail obviously), lil angsty and sad but it ends happy, rpf (if you don’t like it don’t read)

masterlist (one, two, three)

Colson always said he wanted another kid. Especially once Casie started to go through her pre-teen years and he found himself wishing she was still a baby again. He and (Y/N) had talked about it so many times, and they had both agreed that they wanted to have a baby together.

So why did he run away when she actually got pregnant?

Colson could still remember it all so vividly: the look of happiness on (Y/N)’s face when she showed him the positive pregnancy test, the heavy feeling in his stomach that turned to panic that rose into his throat, the sound of (Y/N)’s voice as he grabbed some of his things and left without another word. He could remember the sound of his phone constantly chiming as (Y/N) tried to text and call him, until finally he had to put her contact on mute. It didn’t take her long to give up trying to contact him, though.

He didn’t know why he did it. He had been asked by so many people - his boys, his mom, Ash, even Casie herself - but he had no answer. When (Y/N) first told him she wanted to have kids with him, he had been so excited. So where did his sudden panic come from when it actually happened? Why was he suddenly so doubtful over his ability to be a father again?

He couldn’t bring himself to go back. He was embarrassed for the way he reacted, and he thought (Y/N) wouldn’t take him back anyways. Not that he blamed her. How could she take back the man who got her pregnant and then ran out on her? Because of his reluctance and fear of rejection, Colson didn’t see (Y/N) for months. And he would’ve kept it that way if it wasn’t for Casie throwing his car keys at him and forcing him out of the house.

“You have to go see her,” Casie said as she slammed the door in her father’s face and locked it.

“You gave me my keys, Cas, I can get back in,” he pointed out.

She held up the house key that usually hung on Colson’s keyring. “I took it off. You’re not getting back in until you go see (Y/N) and apologize for being stupid.”

“She’s not gonna wanna see me.”

“You don’t know that! She’s carrying your child, and I’d doubt she seriously wants that kid to grow up without a dad.”

Colson didn’t want to admit that he thought (Y/N) probably got rid of the baby the second he walked out on her. “Cas, come on, just let me back in.”

But Casie just crossed her arms and glared at him. After a few minutes, Colson sighed and rolled his eyes. There was no use in trying to get back in unless he did exactly what Casie wanted, so he went to his car and drove the familiar route to get to (Y/N)’s place.

At least I can get the rejection over with quickly and get back into my own house, he thought to himself.

Pulling up to her house, Colson started picturing the night he left again. He wanted nothing more than to turn his car around and go back home, but he knew Casie could tell if he was lying to her. His hands were shaking as he shut his car off and put the keys into his pocket. He was almost hoping that (Y/N) wasn’t home. Maybe if she wasn’t, Casie would drop it and let him back into the house without having to actually deal with the situation.

But her car was in the driveway, so she had to be home.

Colson made his way up to the front door and raised his hand to knock. He hesitated, unable to make his hand move. His brain was still screaming at him to turn around and go home, but he had come this far. He couldn’t just back out now. At the very least, maybe he could give (Y/N) some closure so they could both move on from this, since he knew there was no way that she was going to take him back.

He finally moved his hand to knock. It didn’t take long for him to hear the sound of footsteps coming towards the door, and when the door opened it felt like the floodgates within him had opened.

(Y/N) was stood there, her belly big enough to tell him that she was still carrying his child. She had never looked so beautiful to him before.

Her eyes were wide, almost like a deer caught in headlights. He was the last person she expected to see on her doorstep, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to slam the door in his face or throw herself into his arms and beg for him to never let her go again.

“Hey,” Colson finally said. “Uh...I’m sorry to surprise you like this. I probably should’ve called first or something.”

“You wouldn’t have gotten through. I blocked your number,” she told him.

Ouch, he thought. I deserve that, though.

“What are you doing here?” she asked. “If it’s to finally get the last of your stuff that you left here, I have it in boxes in the spare room. I can bring it all down and send you on your way within five minutes.”

There was a lot he wanted to say in response to that, but instead he found himself saying, “You probably shouldn’t be lifting too much or going up and down the stairs a lot in your condition.”

Her face darkened as she glared at him. “Don’t pretend you give a shit now.”

Colson sighed and shook his head. “You’re right, I’m sorry. Can I come in? I just wanted to talk, to apologize.”

(Y/N) scoffed. “You leave me when I tell you I’m pregnant - with a baby that you wanted, might I add - and you leave for months, with no calls or texts or anything. And now you think you can come back and just...apologize for all of that?”

“I know, I fucked up - ”

“No, you don’t know,” she cut him off. “You really fucked up. You beyond fucked up, actually. You don’t understand how much it hurt me when you just walked out. You didn’t answer any of my calls or texts. I thought you were going to be happy when I told you I was pregnant. We talked about starting our own family for so long, and I thought you’d be overjoyed for this. But you just walked out and didn’t come back. You do not understand how hard that was for me to deal with, how hard it still is to deal with, while also trying to deal with this pregnancy all on my own!”

She was starting to cry. She mentally cursed her pregnancy hormones for making her so much more susceptible to tears lately. She didn’t want him to see her cry, especially not over him.

When he extended his arms to her, though, she gladly took the comforting hug. She sobbed into his chest, trying to take in his familiar smell and warmth without letting him back in too much. He couldn’t just come in and demand a second chance like this, but she also couldn’t lie and say she wasn’t relieved to see him on her doorstep.

Colson guided her into the house, closing the door behind them and bringing (Y/N) to her living room. They both sat down on her couch and (Y/N) wiped the tears from her eyes. She reached for a tissue from a box on one of her side tables and blew her nose as well.

“I had to start leaving tissue boxes in every room,” she sighed. “Stupid fucking hormones. I cry at everything now.”

“At least you’ve managed to prepare yourself for it,” Colson said.

She sighed and wiped at her face again. She felt so puffy and gross, and not just from the crying. The pregnancy had made her feel so many negative emotions. Even now, when she was supposed to be mad at Colson, she found herself self conscious about her round belly and how it made her look to him.

“Why did you leave?” she asked him. “I thought you wanted another baby.”

“I do,” he responded. “I should’ve been so goddamn excited when you told me you were pregnant. I think I would’ve felt that way if I wasn’t such an idiot instead and started feeling doubt about being a father again.”

(Y/N) furrowed her eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

“I mean...I panicked when you told me. I found myself thinking about if I was cut out to be a dad again. Like, what if I ended up missing so much of the baby’s life the same way I did with Casie? I wasn’t ready to be a dad when Emma was pregnant with Casie because I was so young, and I found myself back in that mindset when you told me you were pregnant. Just this sudden panic and self doubt.”

“But we talked about this. You said you wanted another baby.”

“I know. I don’t understand it either. It’s just my fucked up brain ruining everything again.”

(Y/N) placed her hand on Colson’s in a comforting gesture. “You’re not fucked up, and you are an amazing dad to Casie. I have no doubts that you’ll be even better with this baby, especially now since you’re older and have experience.”

Colson shook his head and let out a humorless laugh. “I can’t believe I was so stupid to let myself get worked up like that, though. I should’ve been so excited. We should’ve had a big ass fucking party to celebrate, and then you should’ve been moving into my house so we could start this family together. I shouldn’t have run out the door and left you like that.”

“Why didn’t you ever call or text me before now?”

“I felt embarrassed and stupid for my reaction. For the longest time, I just felt like I couldn’t face what I did, or face you. And then the more that time went on, the more I felt like coming back was a mistake. I figured you would kick me to the curb and tell me to never speak to you again. I thought...I thought that...if you even still had our baby, that you’d never let me see them anyways.”

(Y/N) found herself running her fingers along the back of his hand. What he was saying all made sense, and she felt like she believed him. She didn’t think he was malicious in leaving her. He didn’t do it because he was an asshole, he did it because he panicked suddenly and made a bonehead move, then his embarrassment got the better of him and made him overthink the situation even further. It didn’t completely heal the wound that his leaving had left inside of her, but it was enough to make her think she could possibly forgive him.

“If you had shown interest, I would’ve let you see her,” she said. “I would never keep you from your daughter if you wanted to be in her life.”

Tears were forming in Colson’s eyes as he looked up at (Y/N). “It’s a girl? You know that for sure?”

(Y/N) could feel herself welling up again, too. She nodded and got up to get the ultrasound she kept on the fridge. She passed it to Colson and sat down next to him.

“That’s her,” she said. “She was once the size of a peanut when I got my first sonogram, and now she’s a fully formed baby.”

“I can’t believe I’m gonna have another daughter,” Colson breathed.

“In a good way or a bad way?”

“Definitely a good way. I would’ve loved to have a son, but if there’s anything that being Casie’s dad has taught me, it’s that I love being a girl dad.” He placed the ultrasound on the coffee table and turned to face (Y/N). “I love you, too. More than anything, (Y/N). I was such a fucking idiot to ruin us the way I did, but I never stopped loving you in that time we had apart. I wanted nothing more than to call you or to show up on your doorstep like I did today, but I was terrified of what your reaction would be if I did.”

“I love you, too,” (Y/N) replied. It was the truth. She hadn’t stopped loving Colson, no matter how angry or upset he had made her. She loved him so much, and she felt like carrying his child had made her love him even more. “But you hurt me a lot. I meant what I said, you can’t just come in and say you’re sorry and suddenly everything goes back to normal.”

“I know, and I’ll do anything to win back your trust. Whatever you want, (Y/N), I’ll do it.”

“Right now, I want you to be here for the rest of my pregnancy, and I want you to be there when your daughter is born. We can take things from there.”

Colson nodded. “Will you come stay with me and Casie at least? I intended on asking you to move in with me anyways, and I know that’s a big ask right now, but I want you to be there and to start making it your home, because eventually it will be. Your home, and hers.” He put his hand on her bump, thinking about how his baby girl was growing in there.

(Y/N)’s eyes lit up as she nodded. “Give me a few minutes to pack a few things, and then we can head over. I want to see Casie anyways. I’ve missed her so much.”

~~~~~~

A few months later, Colson and (Y/N) were on the way to the hospital in the middle of the night. (Y/N) had woken up to pee and ended up having her water break. She woke Colson with her surprised shriek and he got everything together for the two of them to go to the hospital. Casie was at Emma’s, so Colson texted Emma to let her know that the baby was coming and to let Casie know that she would be a big sister by the time she woke up.

The labor pains weren’t as bad as (Y/N) expected, but they were still certainly the worst pain she had ever felt. Colson stayed by her side through the entire process, just like he promised. He let (Y/N) use his hand as a stress ball, crushing it with every contraction pain she felt. He stayed in the room after the doctor’s announced it was time to push and, even though he did feel a little lightheaded during the birthing process, he stayed to hear his baby girl cry for the first time.

The doctors let him cut the umbilical cord before they washed the baby girl and wrapped her in a soft, pastel pink blanket. The doctor passed Colson the baby and Colson sat next to (Y/N) so she could see her, too.

“She’s so beautiful,” (Y/N) breathed. “Besides the fact that she looks like a little prune.”

Colson chuckled. “Yeah, she definitely needs a day or two to look less wrinkly, but she’s gorgeous. You really did it, baby.”

(Y/N) mustered enough strength to reach out and lightly graze the baby’s cheek with her finger. “She was definitely worth all that pain and the exhaustion. Although, to be honest, I don’t think I can fight the sleep much longer.”

Colson leaned over to kiss her cheek. “Get some rest. When you’re feeling up to it, we’ll get Casie to come see her baby sister.”

(Y/N)’s eyes started to close, but Colson could see that she was trying to fight her fatigue. “We haven’t named her yet.”

“We can do that when you wake up. We have so much time to get everything figured out. You already did all of the hard stuff, let me help out with this side of things.”

She smiled, sheepishly, and forced her eyes open for another moment to look at Colson. “I love you.”

He smiled back at her. “I love you, too. More than you could ever know. Now, get some rest. We’ll both be here when you wake up.”

(Y/N) nodded and finally closed her eyes. It didn’t take her long to drift off to sleep. Colson stood so he could put the baby in the bed that the nurses had brought in to put next to (Y/N)’s bed. She had already stopped crying and had also been lulled to sleep in Colson’s arms. When he had her laid down, he stepped back to look at his two girls. He smiled and couldn’t help the tears that started to well up in his eyes. He couldn’t be any happier than he was in that moment.

[didishawn]

Preparation (Pedri x Reader) smut

Warnings: Pedri makes you ride a dildo to take your worries away from how big he is, some Spanish

Someone asked for Pedri size kink and I accidentally deleted it

Masterlist

Look, Pedri might not be the tallest guy out there, the problem is that his girlfriend- you, is fucking tiny and his cock is way too big to take.

It makes him a bit cheeky, really, that one time you were practically crying and begging him to let you suck his cock, only to go wide eyed and face blank when you saw it, so fucking thick and long -you played dumb, as if you had forgotten what was about to go down, only put him back in his boxers, turned around and went to bed, leaving him with blue balls but with a sense of pride.

But as time passes, he doesn't find your worry for his size funny anymore, tired of his hands being the only ones to get him off, as everytime your hand wraps around his cock, it's only for a few moments before you become terrified again at the realisation your fingers don't even meet while around him.

So your boyfriend starts coming up with a plan, as he isn't sure how many more blue balls he can go through before dying because of being unable of having his cock inside you. One day, he makes what he deems the perfect purchase, calling you over once the package arrives, telling you he has found the solution to the big problem in your relationship.

"¿Es en serio?" you ask him, raised eyebrow as you see the toy in his hands. (are you for real?)

He holds a bright yellow dildo, and while you might not have spent a lot of time watching his cock, you are sure the sizes must be similar.

He excitedly nods, looking so proud of himself "Obvio que si. Mira, tú y yo no vamos más allá porque según tú soy muy grande, algo que no comparto pero bueno" (of course. Look, you and I don't go further because you believe me to be too big, something I don't share but alright)

"Pedri, eres gigante" (Pedri, you are huge)

"Gracias amor, pero el punto es que este es literalmente de mi tamaño, diseñado para ser una réplica casi exacta de mi polla, la única diferencia es que tú vas a montarla y controlar todo, así hasta que te acostumbres y podamos hacerlo de verdad" (thanks love, but my point is that this one is literally my size, designed to be an almost exact same replica of my cock, the one difference is that you are going to ride it and control everything, like this until you get used to it and we can actually do it)

He looks at you expectant and you think it over for a moment "Si que parece ser una buena idea" (it does sound like a good idea)

That makes him grin, he approaches a random plastic chair that definitely was not there before, placing the plastic cock to stand tall in it "Mira, se pega a la silla y todo. Ahora quítate la ropa amor, déjame ver tu preciosidad mientras montas la polla" (look, it sticks to the chair and all. Now take your clothes off love, let me see how pretty you are while you ride the dick)

You are a teasing minx as you strip, completely naked as he sits in a sofa in front of your chair, taking his pants and shirt off, hand around himself as he watches you take the lube to cover the dildo.

You are in your knees above the dick, it's tip poking your entrance as you hover it, teasing your entrance, you take in the tip, already makes you full, full on moaning as you pinch your nipples.

"Lo estás haciendo muy bien, amor" he calls out, enjoying the rosy of your cheeks and the slight tremble of your thighs. (you are doing really good, love)

You continue going down, taking the cock so good, your walls opening around it.

"Mirate, tan pequeña y recibiendo tan bien una polla demasiado grande para ti, que linda que eres" (look at you, so tiny and taking so good a cock that is way too big for you, you are so pretty)

It has bottomed up, all of it inside you, making you want to cum already, you refuse, wanting to enjoy more of the feeling, wanting to prepare to take the true one. You plant your feel on the chair, legs opening to let Pedri see how good you are taking the cock and the throbing of your clit.

You struggle to go up and down, your mind already too hazy and body tired, you are so full, body trembling, everything feels amazing, but you need more, he knows it too.

Cock still in hand, eyes fixated on your pretty little pussy taking the big, bad toy, he walks towards you, leaving you face to face with his enormous dick.

You take your time examining him, the black patch of hair decorating him, his abs, the happy trail and v line, his balls look so heavy, so full, veins looking about to explode, it's red, looks so hard, you can't help but lean over, kitten licking a vein, his hands burying tightly into your hair and loudly groaning out, head pushed back.

You look so small next to his cock, he hits your cheek with it twice, moaning when you try to wrap your lips around the tip, the vibrations of your moans feel heavenly.

One hand controls the movements of your mouth -only his tip fits, he makes a note to also prepare you to deep throat him, his other hand is on your shoulder, moving you up and down on the cock, rougher and faster that you had been, entire body squirming and trembling until he looks down to see you squirting, juices pushing the sad plastic out, the sight is enough to push him too over the edge, rapidly struggling to paint your face white.

"Lo hiciste muy bien amor, mi pequeña chica dejándose follar por dos pollas demasiado grandes para ella" (you did great, love, my little girl letting herself be fucked by two cocks way too big for her)

[hide-in-imagination]

Alright, I'm gonna talk about Margarita and why many viewers prefer Marrey over the main couple because the first season of Margarita just ended and I need to cope somehow.

Fair warning, this will be long, full of spoilers, rants, memes, and some references to Soy Luna because I can't help myself.

Okay so, just to give some context for whoever hasn't watched this show and came upon this post by coincidence: Margarita is a show by Cris Morena (same as Casi Ángeles) and works as some sort of continuation/spin-off of Floricienta because it follows the life of one of Flor and Maximo's children: Margarita.

The thing is, Margarita doesn't know she's Margarita, daughter of Flor and Max, because when she and her brothers were babies, some military man took over Krikoragán (the country Flor and Max ruled, yeah, they were royalty) and so everyone had to run for their lives, basically. Margarita grew up as an orphan because Cris Morena loves orphans, is obsessed with orphans, she can't not have orphans in her shows.

Anyway-- The main couple of the show, which is obvious from day fucking one, are Margarita and Merlín, who happens to be the son of the military man who dethroned Flor and Max lolol

Now, I know this sounds like epic romance, like, the daughter and son of enemies falling in love, blah blah blah. It could have been that way-- If Merlín wasn't so fucking stupid.

Cause here's the thing: Merlín is not a bad person, okay? He actually feels a lot of guilt because of how his father took over the country and basically destroyed Florencia's and Maximo's lives (who btw are M.I.A), so what does he want to do? He wants to marry the exiled princess Margarita as a way to return the throne to them. Noble, right? Sure. The problem is that, as I said, the real Margarita doesn't know she's Margarita. Instead, there's been a fake Margarita walking around all these years (who was tricked btw, she doesn't know she's a fake, she truly believes she's the princess), who everyone calls Daisy.

If you're thinking "Oh, this is giving Ámbar is season 2 when Sharon told her she was Sol Benson so no one would find out it was actually Luna" you are absolutely right, it's pretty much like that. The only difference is that Sharon was already rich before this; in this case, Delfina, Margarita's aunt, needed to lie and say she had found the real Margarita so she could access the fortune.

Anyway, moving on. The thing is, the show starts and Merlín is immediately going after Daisy and flirting with her, because again, he wants to marry her so he can give her back Krikoragán's throne. But at the same time, he and Margarita kinda fall in love at first sight (cause remember, they're the main couple of this show), so he's also seeking Margarita all the time and flirting with her.

So, we're not up to a great start, because it's literally episode 1 and this guy is already playing around with two girls at the same time. And listen, this could've worked, okay? Like, I get it-- He loves Margarita but because of his honorable desire to return the throne to the exiled princess, he has to go after Daisy, even if he doesn't want to. This really could've been a conflict of Love vs Duty, and it would've been fine... but. this. BITCHHH sdjkfnsdkdf.

I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD, MERLÍN IS A PATHOLOGICAL LIAR!!! The number of times Daisy asked him if he had feelings for Margarita and he lied in her fucking face!! Even after Daisy finds out that he wants to marry her to return the throne to her, HE STILL INSISTS THAT THAT'S NOT THE REASON WHY HE WANTS TO DATE HER, HE STILL INSISTS THAT HE TRULY LOVES HER, EVEN THOUGH HE IS GIVEN 94823489 OPPORTUNITIES TO SAY THE TRUTH. And what reaaallly annoys me is that Margarita wants to tell Daisy the truth, because she's her friend. And keep in mind that at no point does Merlín stop flirting and seeking Margarita out, nonono. So, of course, our girl Margarita is like "If you say you like me so much and neither of us can stop feeling this way about each other, then we have to tell Daisy, because otherwise, we're just going to hurt her."

And you know what really annoys me? That Merlín agrees. He agrees, and he tells Margarita yeah you're right let's do that, they had an AGREEMENT-- But guess WHAT? Later that day, Margarita finds out that he didn't tell Daisy ANYTHING. In fact, I think he told her again that he loved her for real, u know, like a LIAR, and Margarita is like ??

"Bitch, didn't we agree we were going to tell the truth?" and Merlín is like "Nah, sorry, babe. I still love you tho." LIKE THE PATHOLOGICAL LIAR HE IS.

Listen, when I tell you Daisy sat them both down and literally ASKED THEM, 100% sincerely and with no ill intent, if they had feelings for each other because if so she would step aside, AND MERLÍN STILL LIED. FUCKING BITCH.

This could've been so different if Merlín actually tried to fall in love with Daisy. Like, if he told Margarita "I really like you, but because of duty, I have to be with Daisy" and stopped flirting with Margarita and actually focused on Daisy. Like, of course they would still yearn for each other secretly, but that would be the fun angsty part of it that would make all of us ship it. If we saw Merlín really try to follow duty but being unable to let go of his love, and eventually Daisy realizing this too, that her friends are in love with each other, and freeing Merlín from his responsibility toward her so they can be together. IT ALL WOULD'VE WORKED OUT FINE. Especially considering that Margarita is the real princess, so when that secret came out, Merlín wouldn't have to choose between duty and love because he could marry for love.

But no. They had to make him a detestable cheating liar. Because, do you think his history with lies ends there? NONONO, MY SWEET SUMMER CHILD, SIT DOWN, THERE'S MORE!

Eventually, Daisy doesn't believe his lies anymore (GOOD FOR YOU, GIRL) and is heartbroken but totally breaks up with him. And you, as a viewer, would think "Oh, okay, so he can be with Margarita now, there's nothing stopping them--" WRONG. Because then Petra shows up: Merlín's arranged betrothed. And Merlín makes eyes at her and seeks her out. And, okay, to be fair, he wanted to convince her to renounce her titles of nobility along with him, but did he need to make eyes for that? Debatable. Anyway, that's not even the main issue. The problem is that Petra somehow CONVINCES HIM to pretend to be ENGAGED FOR REAL, OUT OF LOVE, and show it to the world in a LIVESTREAM, so that they can later on renounce of their titles before the wedding and therefore making it a much bigger scandal internationally than if they just announced it on a regular Wednesday.

And since Merlín is a PATHOLOGICAL LIAR, he AGREES TO THIS!!! This stupid, unnecessary plan!!!

And, of course, for this plan of theirs to work, they have to keep it a secret that the engagement isn't real, so Margarita is none the wiser. Merlín, for once, actually wants to tell her the truth, which would be okay I guess, if it weren't because the main reason why he wants to tell her is because MARGARITA IS DATING SOMEONE ELSE.

Please, picture this for a second. Margarita has been led on and then disillusioned by this guy for like two months by now. Eventually, she decides that enough is enough and she needs to find a new love (GOOD FOR YOU, GIRL). She does find a new guy to fall in love with, who also falls in love with her, and they start a very cute relationship, and then, THEN, THIS FUCKING COACKROACH, BLOODSUCKING PARASITE, has to come SEEKING HER OUT AGAIN because he just can not fucking let her be happy, I swear to god!!

So Merlín goes after Margarita, desperate to tell her that the engagement to Petra isn't real, tells her to keep the secret, and also that he loves her, and that he knows she loves him too, so they have to be together, and she can just forget about her boyfriend because she obviously doesn't love him like she loves him either way.

And listen. Again. This could've worked under different circumstances. If Merlín was somehow forced to pretend to be engaged to Petra for some reason or another, or if he was dating Daisy for real, like I said in the previous scenario, but seeing Margarita with someone else finally made him realize that he couldn't choose duty over love and so he begged Margarita to be with him, it would've been fine. I mean, still shitty for the third-wheel guy, but as an audience, we would've supported it, because they're the main couple and he's the main guy and we want them together.

But NOOOOO because Merlín is literally only doing this out of selfishness!!! I mean, let's keep in mind that the whole world really believes he's really engaged to Petra, and they have to keep it that way for their plan to work. So, when Merlín seeks out Margarita now, telling her that they love each other so they have to be together, what is he really offering her? He literally can't offer her more than dating in secret from literally everyone, because otherwise, his plan with Petra would go to hell. And did he ever consider that Margarita might not be happy with that??? To be his dirty little secret?? Like- she's already dating this other guy, who wants nothing more than to make their relationship public because he really likes her, and Margarita is supposed to set that aside for... secret kisses behind closed doors with Merlín??

No wonder Margarita tells him no. MORE THAN ONCE. And she tells him it's too late now because she's with someone else.

BUT DOES THAT STOP MERLÍN? NO. BECAUSE HE'S NOT ONLY A MYTHOMANIAC BUT HE ALSO CAN'T RESPECT MARGARITA'S WISHES TO SAVE HIS LIFE!!

Remember when they agreed to tell Daisy the truth and he didn't? Yeah. And now Margarita wants to move on but he's like "Nah." And in future episodes, he quite literally puts her on a plane and takes her to Krikoragán with him AGAINST HER WILL !!! I---

And they wanted to make it look comical, I'm sure the idea was for it to be funny, but by this point, we're so upset with Merlín that he could cure cancer and I'd be pissed about it.

I just think it's frustrating because I know what they wanted to do, I know what the writers wanted this story to be, but I'm sorry, you wrote this guy so completely wrong that we can't even sympathize with his struggles anymore. I just don't care if he doesn't want to be prince or whatever-- cry me a fucking river somewhere else.

And here's what's really frustrating about all this.

Let me introduce you to Rey. Real name: Juan, but everyone calls him Rey. Also known as: the third guy in the love triangle. Also known for: EXCELLING AT EVERY SINGLE ASPECT IN WHICH MERLÍN FALLS SHORT.

1. Doesn't lie: Rey is very honest and direct about what he thinks and what he feels. When Margarita asked him at one point why he knew how to pick locks, Rey could've lied and make up some excuse, but instead, he honestly said that his dad is a thief, and so he taught him how to steal from a very young age, but Rey doesn't want that life. Which brings us to the next point:

2. Has a more compelling/interesting backstory: Rey starts off as one of the bad guys of the show. He's conceited, mean, and bullies the neurodivergent kid of the group to the point that he leaves the house they're all staying at (he comes back tho). At first, no one likes Rey, the audience doesn't like Rey, because we have no reasons to. BUT it all changes when we start to see different sides to him. We come to see his mean behavior as an act, an armor he puts on because in the family and socioeconomic context he grew up in (aka, thieves, thugs, the strong devour the weak, bully or be bullied) he had to be like that to survive. We see how incredibly sweet he is with his little siblings and how he works his ass off to give money to his mom now that his dad is in jail. In summary, Rey is the typical character who comes from a shitty situation and wants to escape it, be better. He sees the art he makes as a way of salvation, his ticket to a better life, and when we, the audience, see that, we can't help but support him. It's a tried and true character arc and dynamic: people always root for the underdog.

Compared to his struggles, Merlín's theme of 'I don't want to be the prince, I want to return the throne to this other girl' simply... falls short. Especially when you've got Rey's dad threatening Rey with separating him from his family if he doesn't help him in his bad deeds, and actually does separate him from his family later on in the show, much to Rey's hurt and frustration. Compared to that, Merlín's goals and obstacles seem simply superfluous.

3. He's direct with what the wants/doesn't go after two girls at the same time: Rey, being a bad guy at the start, had a thing going on with the bad girl of the show, Única (picture Ámbar for reference, except Ámbar is MUCH better, maybe I'll talk about that at some point.) Rey wanted an actual relationship with her, but Única was being hot and cold, so, Rey told her that he wasn't interested in being played with and took distance from her. Then he took an interest in Margarita, and when she asked him about him and Única, he was being 100% sincere by saying they had nothing going on anymore and he was 100% single and available, because it was the truth, not at any point did Rey continue to make eyes, flirt, or anything with Única after he took an interest in Margarita-- UNLIKE A CERTAIN SOMEONE.

And once he started liking Margarita, he was honest and direct and told her. He told her he felt some chemistry between them and he was more than interested in seeing it through, and Margarita doesn't really deny there's something there (because she likes him too), she just says it's not the right time (she's still hung up on Merlín)

Which brings us to...

4. Respects Margarita's wishes: Sure, Rey flirts a lot with Margarita at the beginning-- he gets all close, tries to go for a kiss-- and some people could say he was being pushy, but considering Margarita was about to kiss him two times prior to that, it wasn't like he didn't have reasons to believe she might want to. When push came to shove though, Rey asked her: "How long are we going to keep fighting this pull between us?" And Margarita was honest in her reply: "I like some other guy, but I do have feelings for you, I just don't think right now it's the right time. When I feel like it's the right time, I'll let you know." Rey accepted that and he didn't push-- He still spent time with her, but he didn't try to kiss her again or anything like that. He waited for her to make the first move.

And she did. Margarita was the one to initiate their first kiss, in a moment when Rey was being completely vulnerable and HONEST (he could've hid the fact that his dad was threatening him to do bad things but instead he opened up to Margarita about it (MERLÍN COULD NEVER)), and it was a great moment.

5. LITERALLY TOOK A KNIFE TO THE STOMACH FOR MERLÍN: That bad thing Rey's dad was forcing him to do? Well, he wanted him to help two thugs kidnap Merlín so they could ask for ransom, but Rey stopped the kidnapping, getting stabbed in the process of protecting Merlín. Following this, Merlín tells him that he now considers him his brother, because he saved his life.

HEAR ME OUT:

But how did Merlín repay Rey, his "brother", for saving his life?

BY STEALING HIS GIRLFRIEND.

6. Respects Margarita's new relationship instead of trying to sabotage it: Remember how I mentioned before that Merlín could not fucking let Margarita be happy with someone else? Well, this is what I was talking about. Merlín knows Margarita is with Rey and doesn't give a shit. He keeps going after Margarita, telling her they love each other so they have to be together, meanwhile, let me remind you, HE IS PUBLICLY ENGAGED TO SOMEONE ELSE. And sure, no one can 'steal' someone else's girlfriend, said person has a hand on it too, BUT considering Merlín literally put Margarita on a plane and took her to Krikoragán against her will... well, I'd say it was pretty close to stealing.

I mean, remember: Rey is direct, Rey is not up for games. Rey asked Margarita if she still had feelings for Merlín and she lied to his face and said no. Later, when he found Merlín and Margarita alone together for the Nth time, he was rightfully pissed. He told her, quote: "If you want to have two guys fighting over you, be my guest, but I don't want any part of it. I'm not interested in being in a relationship with a girl who isn't sure what she wants."

Keep in mind that Margarita told him several times to back off but Merlín did not, Rey also told him to back off and focus on his own girlfriend (RIGHTFULLY, BC WTF ARE YOU DOING FLIRTING WITH THIS OTHER GIRL WHEN YOU'RE ENGANGED?) but Merlín did not, and even after Margarita explicitly told him "It's too late, I'm with Rey now", Merlín still proceeded to take her to Krikoragán with him. He just doesn't give a shit what everybody else wants, apparently.

And, sure, let's be fair and mention that, by the time he took Margarita to Krikoragán, her and Rey were pretty much broken up-- BUT THAT WAS BECAUSE HE SABOTAGED THE RELATIONSHIP. RELENTLESLLY!!

👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻 ICONIC BEHAVIOR. All second male leads should learn to be like him, tbh.

7. Has better words of endearment for Margarita: Rey calls her Bonita (like Simón calls Ámbar, yes, we stan) and also Marbonita, which is a mix of her name and bonita, which, in case you don't know, means 'cute/pretty'.

Now let's take a look at the reverse. When Margarita and Merlín start dating in the last few episodes of the season, does Rey try to get between them? No. And he's still in love with Margarita, the show makes sure to let us know that. But he doesn't try to sabotage it in any way despite this, in fact, he tells Merlín he's HAPPY FOR THEM ????? EVEN THOUGH HE'S CLEARLY BROKENHEARTED??

MERLÍN COULD NEVER.

Meanwhile, Merlín's love declaration to Margarita right before their first kiss was: "You are the queen of garbage and the queen of my heart <3"

Which brings us to:

Seriously, who wrote this? WHO THOUGHT THIS WAS ROMANTIC? WHO THOUGHT THIS WAS A GOOD IDEA?

8. He's simply better in every way: Seriously. Name any aspect and Rey is far superior to Merlín. The only things Merlín has that Rey doesn't are 1- Money 2- The ability to make Margarita queen by marriage. But Margarita is not some social climber interested in money, so these shouldn't be important factors.

I would say Rey even has more emotional responsibility than Merlín, because even after he broke things off with Margarita and was angry at her for sneaking around with Merlín behind his back, he apologized for it ??? He was literally like "Hey, I'm sorry for being cold and rude towards you lately, I don't want to treat you like that, I'm just still hurt about what happened."

I-

AND YOU STILL EXPECT US TO SHIP HER WITH THE OTHER GUY???? BE FOR REAL !!!

Even in the final fucking episodes of the season Merlín could not stop lying. His uncle was threatening him with killing his little brother if he didn't immediately return to Krikoragán and marry Petra, but did he tell Margarita about this? NoooOoOoo. Their last interaction was him being all romantic and assuring her that this was not a goodbye, even though it WAS A FUCKING GOODBYE AND MARGARITA POINTED OUT THAT IT FELT LIKE A GOODBYE, BECAUSE HE CAN'T. STOP. LYIINNGGGG. Literally, it costs zero dollars to tell the truth, Merlín. He wasn't even threatened to keep the whole thing a secret, it wasn't like his uncle told him "Oh, and tell anyone about this and I'll kill your brother", nonono, he had complete liberty to tell Margarita what was happening, but he. chose. not to.

Margarita found out later anyway and called him, right as Merlín's plane was taking off, and you know what his last words to her were? "Please wait for me. Wait for me for your whole life."

WAIT FOR ME FOR YOUR WHOLE LIFE?? MY DUDE, YOU'RE ABOUT TO GET MARRIED TO SOMEONE ELSE. YOU WANT HER TO STAY SINGLE INDEFINITELY WHILE YOU SOMEHOW FIND A WAY TO EITHER 1-DIVORCE OR 2- GET PERMISSION TO HAVE A MISTRESS?

And I know this was supposed to be a very emotional moment. Merlín was crying and everything. The actor is good, don't take me wrong, we have nothing against him. But the characteeerrrr. I just can not sympathize with him anymore. He always has 49238 chances to be honest and communicate and make things less complicated, but he ALWAYS. CHOOSES. TO MAKE THINGS WORSE !!!

And I'm not saying his character should be perfect-- ALL characters are allowed to have flaws, in fact, they have to have them, otherwise they wouldn't be believable. But when the same character keeps making the same mistake over and over and over again, I'm sorry, but my patience only goes so far.

(Also, a lot of people like to point out that Merlín is 21 and playing around with two 17-year-old girls. Personally, I wouldn't criticize him for it because we don't know how old Rey is, and if later on we find out he's 21 too or something, everyone's going to have to swallow their words 😂)

Alright, so this was my rant about why the main couple of Margarita is so annoying and most people in social media are begging for #MarreyEndgame

Do I actually think Marrey has a chance to be endgame? To be honest, no. Looking at the narrative, I don't see how they could make it make sense after the ending of season 1. If the ending had been different, there could've been more hope, but with the way things are, it just makes more sense for Margarita to end up with Merlín. How could they make her end up with Rey without the viewers being genuinely confused? Because everything is set up to build Marlín. The only way to get Marrey would be to kill Merlín off (*cough* like in Floricienta season 1 *cough*). Or, I don't know, have Margarita lose her memories?? And while she has amnesia she falls so in love with Rey that once she gets her memories back she's unable to get back together with Merlín?? But I can't see the writers doing something so drastic.

Of course, they could just say fuck it and give the people Marrey even if it doesn't make any sense in the narrative. By this point, I'd be cool with that, but I don't think Cris Morena cares enough about what the audience wants to do that. She knows the story she wants to tell and she's not going to change it because some people are pissed about it. Because when you're in this industry, you learn that you can't please everyone-- Why would she try to do that now? For numbers? For money? Would it really make that much of a difference if she doesn't make Marrey endgame? Doubtful. Sure, some people will not watch season 2 if there's no Marrey, but even then, people have to be watching to find out if there is Marrey or not, so... 🤷🏻‍♀️

Anyway, this was long, so if you read all of it, I'm both grateful and very sorry kdfjns.

RIP Marrey, you were bigger than the whole sky, you were more than just a short time 🥀

[professor-amaryllis]

:{ A Video file is embedded. Valencia Island, Orange Archipelago. 8/29/24 1:03 am. }:

There's a stillness, a weight that sits as heavy as the thick fog that creeps over the gentle waves of the moonlit sea. Even through the recording the tense atmosphere is hard to ignore, the two figures sitting on the low brick wall watch as the local lapras and lapup doze in the warm waters as if desperate to look anywhere but at each other. The smaller figure, Casi, risks a glance over, but if the gardevoir notices she does not react.

“Rose, I-” Casi falters, the sound of his own voice so loud in the silence seems to startle even himself. He shakes his head trying to focus but something seems to interrupt his train of thought, and he looks over more attentively at the pokemon beside him.

Rose makes no move to look at Casi.

“I'm here because we have to talk about this sometime and I'd prefer it to be now before you come home with us.” It’s hard to tell from where we watch whether he is trying to convince Rose or himself. “Once I have a talk with Ivy we're leaving Valencia.”

“What do you mean no?” There’s a slight incredulousness to Casi’s voice, and he turns to look at the taller pokemon that seems to be paying him no real attention. “You want to come home don't you?”

Casi flinches, something in the unheard response striking a nerve. “I'm not leaving without you. If I had any intention of doing that I would've left months ago when you wouldn't even stay in the same room as me.”

It seems whatever response that the pokemon wanted to hear, this simply wasn’t good enough. She sighs, the statue stillness broken as she turns away from him. There's a quiet moment, as if Casi is waiting on something.

“I was... scared before.” Casi doesn't seem proud of his own answer, hesitating and scratching wrist with his opposite hand. “I got in too deep and by the time I realized that much it didn't feel like there was any time left. So I panicked and left. Thought maybe leaving a note would make up for it but…”

Rose tenses, an angry tremor in her shoulders and what we can see of her expression narrows.

“It was a mistake. Leaving you like that without an explanation... And it was a mistake not going back on it once I realized that too. Then life got in the way and…” Casi’s hands ball up in his lap and his body tenses as his words shift from trying to convince to a more uncomfortable tone, every word careful, like it has to be forced from him. “Did you ever see the newspapers that came out? All the ones saying Melody died..?”

This question seems to catch Rose off guard, perhaps a nerve touched, and she blinks as she looks back at him, some small guard lowering as she finally seems interested in what he may say.

“...I thought it was too late to go back. Which was still cowardly of me. I mean that was... Three years in between that? At least. Maybe less honestly. And all the things I thought I was going back to went up in smoke the moment I got home... I lost my job. One boss had disappeared, the other suffered from some sort of..” He makes some vague gesture with his hand, as if the rolling of his wrist would conjure the Unovan word he's looking for. Eventually he seems to find it, or something close enough. “Mental breakdown I guess. Fired everybody pretty much on a whim. Left Aracelis to care for his son while he worked in Area Zero alone and then when Aracelis left it... Fell to me. For a while.”

It seemed for a short moment like perhaps Casi had broken through Rose’s defenses, but as the words tumbled from his mouth, whatever small opening that he had made slammed shut once again. As hard as it may be to read her body language, the way she shrank back into herself, arms in front of her left little to be questioned.

“I... Yeah... He's um.. The point is I didn't make the best choices and I can't take them back. I can't pretend that I did right by you or Melody or anyone and when I found out that you were still around I insisted I come along.. Because I can't fix what I did before but the least I could do was make sure you get to come home to A.. Amy. To Amy.”

Casi’s voice quiets as he stumbles over the words, and there's a sincerity as he continues.“You don't have to forgive me, but I wanted to at least see you again.”

Rose won’t look at him, but there's something sad in the way she holds herself that seems to resonate with Casi, his expression becoming more determined and his words more forceful and genuine.

“You can leave, I'm going to make sure of it. Ivy can argue all she wants but there's no justifiable reason to continue to keep you here. You and Miairu aren't dangerous and I find it hard to believe your needs are being met on Valencia if she believes that you somehow are. I'm not giving up on that even if you decide you never want to speak to me again.”

There’s a long pause, Rose staring out over the water as her hand brushes up and down her opposite arm, as if thinking.

Casi Visibly chokes up at whatever response he hears, and he has to swallow back the tears that threaten to fall. They both stare out at the fog rolling across the water for a long while before Casi manages “...I’m sorry.”

Casi looks over at Rose, reacting to some unheard statement. His words feel carefully picked, deliberate as if sorting out his own thoughts in real time. “It's hard watching someone deteriorate like that... Not knowing what to do. Not knowing if there's anything you can do... And you were just a Kirlia back then. At least for part of it.”

Rose looks down at her hands, focusing so intently on them that it almost looks as if she’s ignoring Casi, if not for his responses.

“...I really hurt her. Didn't I? I hurt you.” There's a settling tinge of disbelief in his words, and Casi seems to make no attempt to conceal from Rose that fact.”After spending so much time trying to be a part of her life I sort of assumed she'd get over me. That all the sweet talking aside she didn't... Care.”

Now it's Rose's hands that shake, her eyes that water. What walls she has been keeping up seem to crumble down as she tries desperately to hold them together. Casi takes her hand and through his own tears runs a thumb over her hand in what he hopes is a comforting gesture. His voice is weak now, a tremble running through them as he forces out the words. “I'm here now. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry Rose.”

Rose makes a real audible sound for the first time since Casi joined her here, and it's almost startling how the quiet sob can sound so extremely loud in the openness of this space. She leans into Casi, folding down into the smaller figures arms as he hugs her close, gentle despite his own obvious pain. She seems so much smaller as her tears fall. It takes a few moments for their shaking breaths to settle enough to speak at all.

“I won't.” Casimir's voice is soft and broken, the words a promise of the most serious kind. “I'm not going to leave you here. No matter what it takes, we're going to bring you home.”

Rose nods weakly into his shoulder, her shuddering breaths slowly coming back under control. She makes no effort to pull away, and for a few peaceful moments all that can be heard are the quiet waves below and a soft, hummed melody.

[Transcript ends.]

// here's the full story with rose's side of the argument! Telepathy isn't recorded on video.

There's a stillness, a weight that sits as heavy as the thick fog that creeps over the gentle waves of the moonlit sea. Even through the recording the tense atmosphere is hard to ignore, the two figures sitting on the low brick wall watch as the local lapras and lapup doze in the warm waters as if desperate to look anywhere but at each other. The smaller figure, Casi, risks a glance over, but if the gardevoir notices she does not react. 

“Rose, I-” Casi falters, the sound of his own voice so loud in the silence seems to startle even himself. He shakes his head trying to focus but something seems to interrupt his train of thought, and he looks over more attentively at the pokemon beside him. 

[Why are you here?] There’s not much emotion in her ‘voice’.

Rose makes no move to look at Casi.

“I'm here because we have to talk about this sometime and I'd prefer it to be now before you come home with us.” It’s hard to tell from where we watch whether he is trying to convince Rose or himself. “Once I have a talk with Ivy we're leaving Valencia.”

[No.] Rose doesn’t move or react, but she sounds harsher, just barely.

“What do you mean no?” There’s a slight incredulousness to Casi’s voice, and he turns to look at the taller pokemon that seems to be paying him no real attention. “You want to come home don't you?” 

[Why are you here? Why bother now. You should have left again.]

Casi flinches, something in the unheard response striking a nerve. “I'm not leaving without you. If I had any intention of doing that I would've left months ago when you wouldn't even stay in the same room as me.”

[That’s not an answer.]

It seems whatever response that the pokemon wanted to hear, this simply wasn’t good enough. She sighs, the statue stillness broken as she turns away from him. There's a quiet moment, as if Casi is waiting on something.

[... Why did you leave? Why not now.]

“I was... scared before.” Casi doesn't seem proud of his own answer, hesitating and scratching wrist with his opposite hand. “I got in too deep and by the time I realized that much it didn't feel like there was any time left. So I panicked and left. Thought maybe leaving a note would make up for it but…”

[How could it?] 

Rose tenses, an angry tremor in her shoulders and what we can see of her expression narrows.

“It was a mistake. Leaving you like that without an explanation... And it was a mistake not going back on it once I realized that too. Then life got in the way and…” Casi’s hands ball up in his lap and his body tenses as his words shift from trying to convince to a more uncomfortable tone, every word careful, like it has to be forced from him. “Did you ever see the newspapers that came out? All the ones saying Melody died..?”

This question seems to catch Rose off guard, perhaps a nerve touched, and she blinks as she looks back at him, some small guard lowering as she finally seems interested in what he may say.

[Not then. Later. I didn't mean to.]

“...I thought it was too late to go back. Which was still cowardly of me. I mean that was... Three years in between that? At least. Maybe less honestly. And all the things I thought I was going back to went up in smoke the moment I got home... I lost my job. One boss had disappeared, the other suffered from some sort of..” He makes some vague gesture with his hand, as if the rolling of his wrist would conjure the Unovan word he's looking for. Eventually he seems to find it, or something close enough. “Mental breakdown I guess. Fired everybody pretty much on a whim. Left Aracelis to care for his son while he worked in Area Zero alone and then when Aracelis left it... Fell to me. For a while.”

[A…son.]

It seemed for a short moment like perhaps Casi had broken through Rose’s defenses, but as the words tumbled from his mouth, whatever small opening that he had made slammed shut once again. As hard as it may be to read her body language, the way she shrank back into herself, arms in front of her left little to be questioned. 

“I... Yeah... He's um.. The point is I didn't make the best choices and I can't take them back. I can't pretend that I did right by you or Melody or anyone and when I found out that you were still around I insisted I come along.. Because I can't fix what I did before but the least I could do was make sure you get to come home to A.. Amy. To Amy.”

Casi’s voice quiets as he stumbles over the words, and there's a sincerity as he continues.“You don't have to forgive me, but I wanted to at least see you again.”

[I can't leave. You should go back to your family.] It's not really possible for telepathy to have a volume, exactly, but if it could Casi would swear that this was quieter.

Rose won’t look at him, but there's something sad in the way she holds herself that seems to resonate with Casi, his expression becoming more determined and his words more forceful and genuine.

“You can leave, I'm going to make sure of it. Ivy can argue all she wants but there's no justifiable reason to continue to keep you here. You and Miairu aren't dangerous and I find it hard to believe your needs are being met on Valencia if she believes that you somehow are. I'm not giving up on that even if you decide you never want to speak to me again.”

There’s a long pause, Rose staring out over the water as her hand brushes up and down her opposite arm, as if thinking.

[I wish we had left too.]

Casi Visibly chokes up at whatever response he hears, and he has to swallow back the tears that threaten to fall. They both stare out at the fog rolling across the water for a long while before Casi manages “...I’m sorry.”

[She got bad, after. Quiet. She wouldn't say, but I knew. Can't hide them from me.]

Casi looks over at Rose, reacting to some unheard statement. His words feel carefully picked, deliberate as if sorting out his own thoughts in real time. “It's hard watching someone deteriorate like that... Not knowing what to do. Not knowing if there's anything you can do... And you were just a Kirlia back then. At least for part of it.” 

He was never good at hiding his surface level emotions, and he was making absolutely no attempt to conceal them right now. There was grief resting there. Older than a lot of the emotions he's been letting bubble up to the surface.

[I tried. Turned it down, made it quiet. I don't know if it helped.]

Rose looks down at her hands, focusing so intently on them that it almost looks as if she’s ignoring Casi, if not for his responses.

There's what seems like a memory here, Shared through her telepathy. The vantage point is much lower than one might expect. Aiko sits on the bare bed of an absolutely ruined room, holding something in her hands, nearly shaking with anger. Images flash here and there of the rampage that led to this, torn cloth and books scattered from desks. A kirlia's hand settles on Aiko's arm and the shaking starts to settle

“...I really hurt her. Didn't I? I hurt you.” There's a settling tinge of disbelief in his words, and Casi seems to make no attempt to conceal from Rose that fact.”After spending so much time trying to be a part of her life I sort of assumed she'd get over me. That all the sweet talking aside she didn't... Care.” 

He isn't sure what Rose can see, if anything, in his memory. It's not strictly visual to begin with. It's more focused on feelings. Snippets of things. Little interactions between Casi and the shiny Kirlia. The two of them making blackout poetry, doing puzzles, buying food, getting kicked out of the library. There was care there. Patience. Understanding.

[She didn't want... I didn't want... you to go.]

Her voice can't break, thought alone is immune to the weaknesses of the body and yet she struggles to put her sentences together, to translate her thoughts into what is not the most natural way for her to speak. Instead there is pain, loneliness, worry, anger, all spilling out all at once and nearly overwhelming to Casi's senses. Nights of empty rooms flashing by, any company never staying more than needed. Never paying them any real care. It becomes clearer that Aiko never let anyone else close enough to.

Now it's Rose's hands that shake, her eyes that water. What walls she has been keeping up seem to crumble down as she tries desperately to hold them together. Casi takes her hand and through his own tears runs a thumb over her hand in what he hopes is a comforting gesture. His voice is weak now, a tremble running through them as he forces out the words. “I'm here now. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry Rose.”

Rose makes a real audible sound for the first time since Casi joined her here, and it's almost startling how the quiet sob can sound so extremely loud in the openness of this space. She leans into Casi, folding down into the smaller figures arms as he hugs her close, gentle despite his own obvious pain. She seems so much smaller as her tears fall. It takes a few moments for their shaking breaths to settle enough to speak at all.

It's a flood of both their thoughts, their pain, their grief, their memories of the closeness they had and the longing to have it back. It seems like more is being communicated non verbally than there is verbally, but Casi still makes the effort to speak those feelings out loud.

[Don't... leave. me. Don't leave. Don't leave me. Here.

Please.]

“I won't.” Casimir's voice is soft and broken, the words a promise of the most serious kind. “I'm not going to leave you here. No matter what it takes, we're going to bring you home.” 

Rose nods weakly into his shoulder, her shuddering breaths slowly coming back under control. She makes no effort to pull away, and for a few peaceful moments all that can be heard are the quiet waves below and a soft, hummed melody. 

Casi can feel the smallest doubt in the fear that already grips her that Rose seems unable or unwilling to hide in this state of openness that she so rarely allows anymore. But that pales in comparison to the longing that she feels for the comfort that Casi offers. Something she couldn't believe she would ever have again. A thank you doesn't need to be spoken when it is felt so deeply.

[throne-for-queens]

I hate this news. And funny enough when they first got together I would have been happy for them bc that's before we knew everything about their relationship and how toxic it is. Why bring an innocent life into this off / on again thing they have? And why would he want the next mother of his child (sounds so weird to say) be a woman who doesn't love him and just is using him for clout?!? It's insane. It's gonna be a LONG rest of the year + 2025 when the baby is due and then forever how long they can milk being in the spotlight w/ this baby. It's sad. I feel he may even take a step back from music with the baby coming and he should I guess but maybe this is end musically for him... Bc it's just going to be about the baby and that's what MF wanted. I just hate he didn't have a real woman who loved him to give him another child.

On a lighter note I'm rooting for a son for him so it's his first and to be petty bc then she won't have a girl ha. And he only needs ONE princess - Casie! :) (FYI she's going to have a 1/2 sibling! That must be exciting for her she seems good with kids from how she and Ash's son play etc.)

So I understand what you said about if this had been at the beginning of the relationship, you would have been way happier for him because, prior to knowing any negative things about this relationship, it's easier to feel happy for a stranger if you will. But it's kind of like hearing baby news from that friend you've been rooting for to leave her boyfriend, and then the baby or the marriage further solidifies that they're never going to leave. Now don't get me wrong, I love children, and I think children are a blessing, and I know he will be a great father to this child. I always imagined him with someone different, so it's kind of surreal to see that she's the one that was chosen in the end. But I do hope that this child will be a great addition to the little family he's created, and I hope that whatever the gender, this child is welcomed and loved beyond measure.

(and to be fair, for anyone who's panini pressed about the friend analogy I used, I'm going to put it this way. Celebrity or not, if I wouldn't encourage someone to continue a relationship in real life, then I won't push it for him. Now I hope that they've resolved most of their issues prior to the baby, but if not, the baby will not fix anything.)

[sneasedtomeetyou]

:{ A Video file is embedded. Valencia Island, Orange Archipelago. 10/24/24 8:40 pm. }:

The first thing you can make out is the sound of shaky breathing and the rustling of leaves, the shaky vision of the camera and the darkness of the surroundings make it hard to really make out much else. There’s a rushed, hurried feeling to it, and more than once the camera or what one can assume to be one of the subjects of the video runs into an unexpected branch and there's a moment of hushed laughter before moving on. 

Much of the video goes on like this, a few minutes of this stumbling journey before finally they slow, heavy breaths in the new quiet- well as quiet as the deep forest can truly be- overtaking the small… trail? There's a flash that blinds the camera for a moment (and the cry of a much perturbed Porygon inside of it) and a quiet Kantonian command before the gentle glow of a Mareep’s star-shaped tail dimly lights up the scene, letting us see it sort-of clearly for the first time. 

To call this a trail is generous at best, overgrown and forgotten over the years, but it seems to be of little consequence to our subjects, aside from the stray leaf or stick in their hair. At the head of our ‘adventuring party’ is Bellamy, obviously the most affected by the ordeal, leaning on their cane, laughing softly at Casimir who is, well, absolutely not all that affected. Casi twirls in place, a manic sort of energy and excitement radiating through him that even the Gardevoir and Meowscarada trailing behind them seem to have trouble not finding a little humor in. Her Weavile seems to be much more preoccupied with the forest around them, alert and casting glances in every direction. 

“That was perfect we should do that again we should do that a hundred times actually I think Ai—”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself Tenshi, there's still a ways to go from here.” There's an affection behind the words, despite the warning. “We have to go, there’s n—”

Amy’s words are cut short by Casi grabbing them by the shirt collar and pulling them down into an excited, almost desperate kiss that seems to take the wind and any real fight out of the taller woman(?), melting a little bit into the touch. When Casi finally lets her go, there's a redness creeping across their cheeks that is just possible to catch.

“I uh- right. We um. We need to go.” 

“Sure thing, Kemansou~”

Casimir prances ahead down the trail before Amy can quite react. After a shake of the head they curse under their breath and with a laugh they, and the rest of the group, turn to follow her into the dark. 

:{ Transcript ends. }:

[vampire-chokehold]

the wisp sings

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Peter B. Parker x MJ

Summary: So, no, Miguel doesn’t know how to say no to Peter, because every time he’s ever said yes, he’s felt like the luckiest guy in the multiverse.

"Would you let us make you happy? Please?" says Peter softly and Miguel closes his eyes to take in the air between them.

Warnings: too much angst, but there's a lot of fluff too!

Words: 4,363

Read on AO3

At the top of the tallest building in Nueva York, the air seems different. It doesn't feel as if it is trying to choke him from the inside out; his lungs collapsing with each breath he takes. Up there, every emotion feels small in comparison, just a speck of dust in the universe. He can let go for just one second, of everything, of himself, of all the ghosts that haunt him.

To celebrate one's step closer to death. Qué cosa tan extraña (what an odd thing to do), Miguel thinks as he looks at the date on his wristband, its soft light lingering on his hardened features in the darkness of the night.

Another year, another birthday he dreads to celebrate. For what? There is nothing he can think of that would make him any more miserable than being around people wishing him a happy day. He hasn't had one in forever.

The cars on the streets draw a map of light streaks and their sound, muffled with those of the city –the careless people of Nueva York–, seems like white noise to him. Like static, a nice and soothing background music for his thoughts. He follows their movement with his eyes, from one end of the street to the other, like a pendulum.

It is somewhat peaceful, to drown in his sorrow like this. The grief makes him almost numb in his chest. Casi (almost).

If life were any different, he might enjoy birthdays. Maybe he would feel content around people, all their smiles shining with the white of their teeth, and his too. Maybe he would blow a candle or two, eat a piece of cake, and open the presents with glee. But life isn't always –no, it never is– as we expect it to be, as we wish it to be. And Miguel has come to know this the hard way.

He can still feel her tiny fingers poking his cheek, the warmth of early morning falling onto his shut eyelids, as Gabriela tries to wake him up with a feliz cumpleaños on her lips. He can still see her eyes drawing two half moons on her face, accompanying the widest of grins. He can still taste the coffee on his lips –too sweet for his liking, but how can you refuse your child when she is more excited about your birthday than you? He could never say no to her.

What does he have to look forward to now apart from a few more wrinkles around the mouth, soreness after a complex mission, and the loneliness of going back to a home that is no longer a home but a haunted house?

No breakfast in bed.

No drawings of him and Gabi where his face doesn't look as mean as it does now.

No wish that can ever come true.

So there he is, hiding away like he always does –his chest tight and his eyes stinging with the imminent cry forming in the pit of his stomach. It was a quiet day at HQ and he knows that if he had stayed in his office, he would have spent hours looking at all those memories that he so desperately wants to bury deep beneath. He kind of hoped for a crisis to happen so he can distract himself, to dive into the violence.

"Hiya, boss, I know you ask not to be disturbed today, but Peter is looking for you and he says it's urgent." Lyla appears on his side in a blinding orange light.

"I highly doubt it, Lyla. Tell Peter I will deal with whatever tomorrow," he pushes the button to send his IA away, the light disappearing with a gentle beep.

He looks up into the night sky, the stars almost nowhere to be seen with all the light pollution.

Peter, he sighs. That is something to unpack for sure.

"I must insist, Miguel. Peter seems really serious, and you know he's never serious," the hologram appears again, this time with Lyla looking at him with furrowed brows and crossed arms.

Her expression makes him stop to think for a second. What if Peter is actually in trouble? Can he just shrug it off and ignore him? "Did something happen to Peter?" He finally asks, the worry in his tone too apparent for what he'd like.

"He sounds hurt, but I do not have any more information to disclose. I could run a diagnostics and try to determine if-"

"No, déjalo (leave it)." Miguel cuts her off as he stands up over the ledge of the building. "I'm done moping anyways."

With quick gestures, he taps at his bracelet, it beeping under his touch. A red and yellow flashing portal opens to the side of the building, waves of energy spreading up and down into the darkness. Miguel looks up at the sky one last time as if saying goodbye and then jumps off into the abyss.

The lights devour him as his body crosses the portal back to Earth-616B.

He runs out of the blinding lights, almost stumbling onto the grass in front of Peter's house. He would have liked to play it cooler, but his mind gets the best of him imagining all sorts of tragic scenarios. Peter never calls Lyla looking for him, so this has to be something important otherwise he would just wait for him to come back to pester Miguel about whatever is going on inside that silly head of his. So, of course, he runs.

With his heart almost in his mouth, he knocks on the front door.

One very long and anguishing minute passes before he decides to open the door –uninvited–, yanking the handle with too much force. The house is quiet, too quiet, and his mind rushes to paint him morbid images of Peter bleeding to death on the sofa. He walks into the living room with the sound of his beating heart hammering in his temples and the air squeezing its way down his throat. He stops himself as he comes to realize what is really going on. Just as he starts to read the banner that hangs from the wall, the words bright and colourful, Peter emerges from behind the sofa wearing a silly party hat. Next to him, MJ is holding Mayday with the biggest of smiles drawn on their faces.

"Surpriseeeeeee!" they shout in a surely unrehearsed manner as they spring into view.

Miguel, for once in his life, is speechless. He remains there, his hands still in fists to his side and his heart racing in his chest, his mouth going drier by the second. His eyes dart frantically from Peter to MJ to the banner saying happy birthday! and the realization hits him hard, too hard for what it is, really. But he can’t help it. Mierda (shit).

“Hey, you alright, Miggy?” MJ says from behind the sofa, her expression no longer cheerful.

Peter, next to her, has now dropped his hand and is wearing a confused look on his face. He goes to Miguel and nudges him with his elbow. "Bet you didn't think I'd remember, eh?" he says putting his hands on his hips, taking pride in a successful surprise, trying to lighten the mood that had suddenly shifted.

"I thought you were hurt. I thought something had happened." Miguel said in a quiet tone, looking down at his hands while he unclenched them.

"Well, that was part of the performance! I must say, I'm quite the actor. MJ always says that I-"

"I thought you were hurt, Peter," he repeats, this time his tone is too harsh and he looks up at him, his eyes pleading.

Everything feels too close, too constrained. The room suddenly looks like it's closing in on him, their questioning eyes piercing his thick skin like fire through ice. Peter touches his forearm with the softest of fingers and it burns. Tengo que salir de aquí (I have to get out of here).

Miguel turns on his heel and practically bolts out of the room, gasping desperately for air as he steps out of the house. He bends over his middle, balancing himself with his hand over his knees and he tries to breathe. He opens his mouth wide and he takes in a gust of air but it doesn't seem to be enough. The corners of his eyes are going black and there's a tingling feeling creeping up the back of his head.

"Miggy, are you okay?" he feels a hand on his back, warm and solid unlike everything else around him. "What's going on?"

Miguel doesn't move, doesn't say anything. He tries to ground himself but he feels he's starting to lose control. Peter's face comes into focus in front of him, the Spider-man kneeling on the grass as he takes his face in his hands.

"I'm here. It's okay. Breathe," his words sound so distant, Miguel can't even recognise them on his lips, the severe tone so uncharacteristic in the other man.

He looks into Peter's eyes and he wishes he could drown himself in them. How is this person so calm all the time? Peter smiles the warmest of smiles and he feels himself melt.

"Tell me what's going on, Miguel, let me in," he leans a bit closer to him and Miguel feels he's breathing the same air Peter is letting out.

Some people cannot speak without smiling and Peter is one of them. The way his eyes curve into two crescent moons and the side of his mouth wrinkles when he grins makes him feel like all that's wrong in his life doesn't matter that much.

He's come to love his carefree disposition; even when everything goes haywire, Peter is able to joke around. Cool, calm, collected. That's just who he is. Miguel wishes he could be more like him, but it isn't in his nature. He will always be a freak, cut and sewn into a monster that feeds off the people he mistreats.

"Peter, I…" he starts and then falls silent. Peter nudges him to go on caressing his cheek with his thumb. "This is too much. Too personal. Me, here, celebrating with you, MJ and Mayday. I just can't. No puedo, todo esto es demasiado para mí (I can’t, this is all too much for me)."

"To celebrate your birthday? Too personal?" Peter chuckles and he lets himself fall back, ass completely on the damp grass. "I mean, I imagined you being the kind of guy that doesn't like to age a day, but having a piece of cake and opening some presents never did anyone any harm, am I right?"

Miguel doesn't notice, but Peter's relentless positivity brings him back to reality; the way his eyes flutter all over his face, clinging to his eyes, his lips, his nose; and his soft hands on his face. There it is, how he always manages to bring him back to shore, even when he's sure he's done for.

Peter's expression changes, turning serious, but in his eyes, there's still that softness around the edges. "I get it, I really do. These things, they bring back the past…" he looks up to the night sky, his neck long and beautiful under the porch light. "But I do think you deserve to be happy, Miguel, despite all that's happened." Peter then sits up, bringing his face too close to Miguel's. "Would you let us make you happy? Please?"

Miguel doesn't know how to say no to Peter, he never has. Right from the start, he has let him do whatever he wanted with him. He has tried to stay away, to never cross that invisible line hovering between them.

But Peter is relentless.

He would nonchalantly come into his office and ramble on about whatever was on his mind even though Miguel would never answer or even look at him, but it became a habit –a habit he now can’t live without. Eventually, they grew to be close friends, despite Miguel’s efforts to push him away, and even more than that when Peter asked him to meet MJ.

He admits that the first time he set foot in Parker’s residence, his heart was beating so loud in his ears that he barely listened to a word any of them said that night. He ate and drank and talked as if it wasn’t that big of a deal for him, but inside his stomach, there was a whole hurricane of butterflies trying to make their way out.

Soon those sporadic dinners became a regular thing. Sometimes, Miguel brought empanadas, although he always apologized for not having time to cook a proper dinner as MJ did. Peter took care of the drinks, inventing cocktails that tasted much better than they looked. Gradually, routine began to feel more and more natural, and Miguel suddenly found himself sharing his life with two people.

Although he initially felt strange, as if he were intruding on something, occupying a place that clearly wasn't his, Peter always did his best to make him feel like a part of their existing relationship. And MJ, with her gentle hands and radiant smile, always welcomed him with open arms. It was very difficult not to feel loved when he was with them, and of course, it was very difficult not to love them back.

To be in a relationship again was unthinkable for Miguel. After all the people he had lost, being open to the possibility of all that suffering resurfacing –that is if it had ever disappeared– made him too vulnerable.

As open as a gushing wound.

Naked.

So, no, Miguel doesn’t know how to say no to Peter, because every time he’s ever said yes, he’s felt like the luckiest guy in the multiverse.

"Would you let us make you happy? Please?" says Peter softly and Miguel closes his eyes to take in the air between them.

“Yes,” he breathes.

MJ had baked Miguel a birthday cake with his name on it between pink hearts made out of strawberries.

"People our age shouldn't have to blow out the exact number of candles corresponding to our age. It's a rule in this house," she says as she lights the single candle stuck in the middle of the cake. "Make a wish, Miggy."

Miguel closes his eyes before exhaling all the air from his lungs. He doesn't like making wishes because he knows that the one wish he would ask for is impossible to fulfil, but he feels that he owes it to MJ and Peter for all their effort. What to ask for? Love, health, money, those things that are usually requested from the universe as if magic exists?

To forget? To heal?

The small flame of the candle quickly extinguishes, leaving behind a wisp of smoke that dissipates amidst the applause from MJ, Peter, and Mayday. A shy smile forms on Miguel's lips as he sees how happy they are. Their joy is truly contagious.

"MJ, it looks amazing. I think I deserve at least two slices," says Peter as he extends his plate. He leans on Miguel's shoulder and whispers in his ear, "What did you wish for? For a drop-dead gorgeous boyfriend?"

Miguel can't help but laugh because, despite everything, Peter always maintains his teasing personality. "I already have that, idiota (idiot)." he responds, turning his head to look at him, raising both eyebrows in a playful manner.

MJ leans on the table in front of them and with a finger, she takes a bit of icing from the cake and smudges Miguel's nose. "Did you know that secrets whispered in the ear are considered rude?" she makes a mock frown while sucking her finger.

In the past, Miguel would have been mortified with embarrassment, but he has grown accustomed to their innuendos, and he himself has become comfortable responding to them, a far cry from the stoic character that everyone knows.

He leans over the table and takes MJ's hand, her finger still moist with her own saliva. With the tip, he wipes off the icing and then puts it in his mouth, slowly sucking on it while maintaining eye contact with her. MJ's face turns the same colour as the cake in an instant.

"Before this becomes something, I think you should open the gifts," Peter's smile is huge as he picks up Mayday in his arms. "Shall we find that beautiful drawing you made for Miggy's birthday?"

Miguel can't help but melt every time he sees Peter interacting with his daughter. At first, he played tough and ignored all the times Parker tried to show him photos of the little one, but deep inside, there was a warmth slowly growing.

Mayday is nothing like Gabriela, yet they are two peas in a pod. He sees in her everything he misses about his daughter, and although the memory is like a relentless knife digging into his side, having her close makes him happy. Having them close makes him terribly happy, despite the fear.

Suddenly, silence envelops the room where MJ and Miguel are left alone, but it's not uncomfortable; quite the opposite. When did he start feeling at home in a home that wasn't his?

"Are you okay, Miggy?" MJ asks with a sweet voice, cupping his cheek with a hand that looks ridiculously small on his face.

Miguel looks at her, and although his instinct is to retreat into himself and put up a barrier between his heart and her, he gently places his hand over MJ's and lets the weight of his head rest on both of them. He closes his eyes in a sigh that feels like the first breath of the day. "I still struggle... to come to terms with all of this. I've been alone for a long time, and... it's hard."

He struggles to find the words, especially in front of MJ, who is always so in tune with her own emotions. Honestly, Miguel sometimes feels emotionally inept, and he can't help but question what he can offer her when she's already with Peter –even though he and Parker are like day and night and have nothing in common. Physically, he has no doubt that he fulfils certain fantasies for both of them, but emotionally? Why would anyone want to be with such a broken person who can't relate without dragging along a bag of traumas and misfortunes? Nevertheless, he feels grateful that MJ insists that he learns to communicate better. He wants to be better.

MJ turns his face slightly, now their lips so close that Miguel feels like he's crossing his eyes to see her better. "You know I love you, don't you?" her voice is barely a whisper, as if no one else in the universe is worthy of hearing those words, words that are only for him. "That Peter and Mayday and I love you."

Love. When was the last time someone told me they loved me? He tries to remember, but he can't place the memory in his mind. There are many things he doesn't remember. About Dana, for example. Neither how he felt all the air leaving his body when he first saw her, nor how the world stopped when their lips met, nor how his skin turned to fire with the touch of her fingers, nor how her lips curved upwards, forming the most beautiful smile he had ever seen. Miguel doesn't remember when was the first time he was told "I love you." And although he doesn't remember –or so he thinks – an entire lifetime that now feels as distant as unreal, he carries the memories tattooed under his skin, etched into his bones until the day he dies.

"I love you too, MJ. I love you all." Miguel says it as if his life depends on it, with all the air and all the love he carries within. And then he kisses her gently and with a certain impatience, with the hunger of someone who has long yearned for forgiveness.

"Then everything will be fine. We don't need anything else," MJ responds, and her eyes are also like crescent moons when she smiles like Peter’s. Like Gabriela's.

MJ and Peter had difficulty choosing Miguel's birthday present. They couldn't agree on what Miguel might want or need, considering how reserved he is about the things he likes.

"I know you're not a gift person, and that's why it's been bleeping difficult to find something that would suit you, but I think I nailed it this time," Peter proudly says as he puts a poorly wrapped package in Miguel's hands. "Sorry, MJ, I win."

Miguel takes the gift reluctantly, with the embarrassment of knowing that too many eyes are watching him, and he opens it carefully.

"Go ahead, big guy, break it! The best part of opening gifts is tearing the paper! Use those claws that I love so much!" Peter encourages him, laughing. Miguel rolls his eyes but follows his advice and tears apart the remaining unopened paper.

In his hands, he has a black jumper that seems to be handmade. He looks up and sees Peter staring at him with an expression full of love.

"Did you make this?" the surprise in his voice is more than evident because when did he learn to do something like this? Peter nods, his lips curving into a proud smile. "I had no idea you had this skill, Parker."

"Knitting? Well, it's something Aunt May taught me, I don't quite remember why. But how did you not know? I told you I made this for Mayday!" he shows him the Spider-Man mask that the girl is wearing, and she giggles in his arms.

Miguel looks at the jumper in his hands again, caressing the material with his rough fingers. It's so soft. He unfolds it and opens it in front of him. And it's huge!

"I wanted you to have your own jumper. One that fits you. After all, you always come home after a mission, and my clothes never fit you properly. Don't get me wrong, we love that you're practically naked all the time! But winter is around the corner, and maybe... well, that." Embarrassment starts to colour Peter's ears pink as he runs a hand through his hair.

"Peter, I love it. It's... it's perfect. Gracias (thank you)."

“Ok, now it’s my turn!” MJ interrupts them and slides in between to hand him her present.

It's a small box, wrapped with a red ribbon. Miguel opens it and finds a USB drive inside. Puzzled, he looks at MJ for an explanation.

"I made you a mixtape! So you can listen to it in the office when you're alone and missing us, or when we're here and we want to dance... or do things that aren't exactly dancing," she laughs, slightly blushing, and plants a kiss on his lips that tastes like pure bliss. "There's a bit of everything in there, but they're songs that remind me of us."

"How do you know what kind of music I like?" Miguel raises an eyebrow, teasingly.

"I have my ways. A little birdie once told me they heard you singing... and I improvised! I hope I got it right."

¿Qué hice para merecer todo este amor? (what did I do to deserve all this love?) Words won’t come out of his chest, lumped up in his throat like a ball of concrete. He had wanted so desperately to be loved again, and there he is, with more love than he can handle. He feels like he was going to burst with love at any moment.

They are the song he sings every night in his sleep, a song of redemption.

"Thank you, MJ." His eyes soften as he looks at her. "Although I won't be listening to it in the office." he hugs her tightly and kisses both her hands with such tenderness. Everything feels like melting.

After Peter clears his throat in mock annoyance, Miguel stands up, still holding onto the jumper (feeling like he doesn't want to let go) and the tiny box, and gently kisses Peter on the lips. Mayday, caught between the two men, laughs and tries to grab Miguel's face. When they pull apart from the kiss, Miguel holds Mayday in his arms with tenderness.

"Mayday, would you like to give him your gift?" MJ asks with a loving voice, placing a piece of paper in her extended little hand.

"Let me see. ¿Es para mí? (is it for me?)" he says in a higher-pitched voice than usual, something that always makes Peter laugh because it contrasts greatly with his grumpy tone as a super important and intimidating boss back at HQ.

Mayday had drawn a picture of the four of them, and even though the girl was still young, it was perfectly clear who was who. A stick figure with red hair, another one with a pink bathrobe, and him, wearing the Spider-Man suit. Did she draw fangs on me?

There it was again, that tingling in his hands, that cold sweat at the back of his head. The vertigo of terror at the possibility of losing them too. How could he recover from such a loss? Again? He couldn't fathom his life without Peter, MJ, or Mayday. The time he spends with them feels like a wound healing: sometimes it stings and makes him want to run away, but most of the time, it feels as natural as breathing. He knows that before finding himself alone in emptiness again, he will do everything possible to keep them by his side. But this time, he won't make the same mistakes of the past.

"Don't you think we look great together?" MJ whispers by his side, resting her cheek against his arm and running her hand through his hair from his nape up, the sudden contact bringing him back to reality, calming him. She always can tell when he’s spiralling.

And she is right. MJ is always right.

They look great together.

And fear won’t take that away from him, ever again.

[i-think-i-did-it-again]

Fuck buddies X

Warning: searing, drinking, smut Author note: it's a superrrrr long one! Not sure if there'll be a part 11 but I love this story so much so never say never!

It had been almost a month and a half since you last saw Colson. You keep replaying that night in your head over and over again. You desperately try to cling to anything about that night that can give you comfort. The way he kissed you, the way he spoke to you so softly, how he wanted to comfort you when you cried. You felt yourself going through the motions of your day, not really focusing on anything in particular. You’d get up, go to work, come home, eat dinner, clean the dishes and go to bed. The weekends were for laundry, housework and grocery shopping. Being a two bedroom apartment with a tiny kitchen and just you living in it though, that hardly filled your day and you weren’t much of a chef so groceries were just the essentials.

You can feel yourself becoming more and more reclusive as the days go by. You haven’t really seen or spoken to any of your friends. Not because they’ve been ignoring you, it’s more you ignoring them. You’re not trying to be rude, you just don’t really feel like talking to anyone these days. Jacob has texted you a couple of times here and there but as your responses grew more and more blunt, his messages stopped coming. You’re trying to give yourself a clean break and even though that feels hard at times, you feel yourself growing more and more each day.

A knock on your door pulls you out of your robotic laundry folding. You’re not in a particular rush to answer it but you stand anyway. When you open the door, a very apprehensive pair of eyes are staring back at you. Ashleigh and Sophie share a look with each other that you pretend not to notice and then they each flash their largest, fakeest smiles. 

“We brought wine!” Sophie flashes the wine bottle in her hand and they push past you before you can protest. 

You grab your folded washing of the coffee table and place it all on your bed, shoving the half finished basket in your wardrobe. When you come back into the living room, Sophie is pouring wine into 2 glasses that Ashleigh is holding. She hands one to you before sitting on the couch and resting her feet on your coffee table.

“So, we have a proposition for you,” Sophie grins and your stomach immediately drops. She plonks herself down on the floor in front of your TV and straightens herself as a form of weird intimidation. “There’s a party tomorrow night–” she begins but you cut her off before she can continue.

“I have plans to…um do something,” you stutter out and they both roll their eyes at you.

“If you’re going to lie, at least make it sound convincing,” Ashleigh interjects.

“I just…I want to hang out with you guys, I really do, I just…I can’t face him, not yet,” you take a wobbling breath and slump yourself back against the couch cushion.

“We know everything. Rook told us. Most of it was bits and pieces that you’d told him and that…Colson told him but we think we have a fairly good understanding of what went down,” Sophie says and then drains her entire glass of wine. “We just don’t want you locking yourself away in the hopes that all your feelings will magically fade and you can stand to be around him again. That’s why when we say proposition, we actually mean kidnapping.”

You’re so mad at yourself for allowing them to drag you to this house and force you to ‘have a good time’. One thing you’re grateful for is that Colson is clearly avoiding you because you’ve been here for an hour and a half and you still haven’t seen him. The music is pumping, the liquor is following, everyone is talking, laughing and dancing and all you can do is wish you were home in the silence of your apartment. After a while, the noise and the overly drunk people begin to get on your nerves. You know you shouldn’t but you decide to sneak upstairs to the solace and quiet of one of the bedrooms. You contemplate sitting in Casie’s room, maybe find a good book to read until you can leave without anyone causing a fuss but you don’t want to invade her privacy like that. 

You spot Colson’s door at the end of the hallway and even though you want to be strong, you’re desperate for some kind of connection with him, even if it just means sitting on his bed for a few minutes, imagining he’s there with you. You know in a month, you’ve made a lot of progress. You don’t cry when you lay down to sleep at night anymore. Your chest doesn’t ache quite as much when you think about him. You don’t want to destroy all of that but you just need a moment to pretend the last few months haven’t happened.

You push the door open gently, checking to make sure the room is empty. When you’re sure the coast is clear, you step into the room, closing the door softly behind you. His room looks the same. Messy, manly and all Colson. There’s a few astrology books strewn across his bedside table, there’s writing paper on his bed and his black graphic acoustic guitar. There’s a bunch of scrunched up pieces of paper on the floor and all the lyrics are blacked out and destroyed. There’s half empty bottles of liquor everyone, empty coffee cups, empty pill bottles. The room is a mess and 100% Colson’s. His scent is everywhere. You can smell his cologne on every surface, the faint musk of weed. You sit on his bed, close your eyes and just soak it all in.

“Hey, Y/N, you in here?” there’s a knock and then the door begins to slowly open. 

You quickly jump off the bed just as Rook opens it fully. He smiles at you sympathetically and you feel like the biggest loser in the world.

“Hey, I was just…” you look around the room, not entirely sure what a good explanation for why you’re in Colson’s room would be. “Um needed to pee but all the other bathrooms were occupied.”

“Are you sure it had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that you looked completely fucking miserable downstairs?” he quirks an eyebrow at you and blush bright red.

“I came here under protest ok, I never promised anyone that I’d be happy while doing it.” Rook laughs and you slump back down onto the bed, throwing your body back so you can stare at the ceiling. “He hasn’t even come anywhere near me,” you whine and you feel so pathetic, it’s sickening.

“I think he honestly believes that’s what you want,” Rook lies next to you on the bed, resting his hands behind his head.

“In what possible universe would I want him to feel he can’t move freely around his own home?”

“What do you want?” Rook turns his head to look at you, a serious expression on his features.

“Oh Rookie, how much time do you have?” you take a deep breath and you finally admit the thing you’ve been trying to deny for so long. “I just want him to love me as deeply as I love him and as tragic as it is to admit, I would probably keep sleeping with him if it meant he’d stick around.”

“I guess neither of you are very good at reading the other person,” Rook shakes his head and you’re so thrown by his blunt tone that you have a million questions.

You lean up onto your elbow and stare down at Rook, ready to bombard him, but before you even say a word, the door swings open violently. You jump off the bed at the sound of it slamming into the wall behind it, almost coming off its hinges in the movement. Colson is staring you both down, eyeing your bewildered expression and Rook’s casual position on his bed. You look at Rook and he just looks at you and shrugs. You’re not really sure what the look on Colson’s face means. It is a weird twist between a smirk and rage.

“Well, well, well I guess I shouldn’t have expected anything less,” he chuckles humorlessly. “I ignore you at my party so you thought you’d get back at me by fucking my best friend in my bed?” 

Your jaw drops and the blood drains from your face. You want to cry and smack him across his stupid face at the same time. Sure, it doesn’t exactly look great. You, lying in his bed, with Rook but you thought he knew you well enough to know that you’d never stoop to that level, no matter how much you thought it would get his attention. It’s more something he would do just to get his own way.

“Oh fuck off Kells,” Rook stands up and folds his arms across his chest. “That’s not what was going on and you know it.”

“Oh and how the fuck would I know it?” he scoffs, not taking his eyes off you.

“Because if she wanted to fuck me, she’d be naked and screaming my name right now as she came all over my dick,” Rook grins and Colson’s face drains of all colour and his stare shifts to Rook.

He steps forward, ready to take a swing but you quickly place your body between Rook and him. At last second, Colson drops his fist, his face filled with murderous contempt for his best friend. Your heart is pounding and the room is spinning. Why the fuck would Rook purposely goad him like that? It’s like he wanted to get his ass whooped.

“Colson, you know he didn’t mean it,” you try to soothe him but you know the sound of you defending Rook is definitely not helping the situation. 

“Get out of my fucking way, Y/N! I’m going to fucking kill him!” Colson screams in your face and you flinch away from the sound. He’s so close you can almost feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest.

You’re so grateful for the loud music right now because no one from the party can hear the commotion going on above them. The pure, unfiltered fury in Colson’s voice is so confusing to you right now. He was the one that accused the two of you in the first place, why would he care that Rook is just joining in on his twisted fantasy? It’s not like it would ever happen. You’ve never seen him that way, he’s alway only ever been a friend to you. Someone you confide in when you feel like you have no one else to talk to. He’s been one of the best friends you’ve ever had.

“Oh calm the fuck down man. Just tell her what you’ve been dying to tell her since the nightclub! Goddamn, I need a fucking drink. You two are not to leave this room until you grow the fuck up and talk to each other like adults.”

Rook pushes past you, not even fazed by the death stare Colson gives him as he leaves the bedroom. As soon as he leaves, Colson’s lips are on you and you’re so taken aback that for a second, you kiss him back. Suddenly you remember the promise you’d made to yourself that night he left your apartment for the last time. You will not be sucked in by him, no matter how hard he tries. You push him away and stumble back, creating some distance between your bodies, and he whimpers. Colson physically whimpers at the loss of your touch.

“I’m–I’m sorry, we can’t. I told you,” you hold a hand to your forehead as you try to regain some composure around him and catch your breath.

“No,” he says so simply but with so much assurance that you have to do a double take. He folds his arms across his chest and stares you down.

“What the fuck do you mean no?” you ask dumbfounded.

“I mean no,” he steps towards you and you step back until you’re literally pinned to the foot of his bed. “Just because you say it, doesn’t mean I have to go along with it. I want you and I’m not accepting your decision to end things.”

“What the fu–” he cuts you off by crashing his lips to yours again and you can’t actually comprehend what’s happening. He kisses down your neck, talking every few kisses against your skin.

“You’re saying no because you think that’s what you should say, it’s not actually what you want. You want me, I can feel it.” he holds his hand over your heart, feeling it pound against your ribcage. “Your body tells me exactly what you want and it’s me.” 

He kisses the pulse point on your neck and a moan escapes your lips. You don’t even try to shove him off you. You meant what you told Rook. If this is what it means to have Colson in your life, you’ll take it. Anything is better than the emptiness you’ve been sitting in for the past month.

“If you want me, you have to answer one question,” you sigh as he licks just below your ear drum.

“Anything,” he whispers in your ear.

“What have you been dying to tell me since the nightclub?”

Colson flinches away from you and is suddenly 10 feet away from you on the other side of the room. His cheeks are flushed and you can see all of his male glory begging to be released from his jeans. He’s panting so hard you can hear his breathing from where you stand.

“You said anything,” you defend yourself and he laughs. 

An actual, real Colson laugh. The laugh you love the sound of whenever you hear it. You know it means he’s truly happy and it always makes your heart swell to hear. He sits on the edge of his bed, pushing the papers and guitar away and pats the spot beside him. You sit next to him and he surprises you by grabbing your hand in his, lacing his fingers in yours.

“I really should’ve put a condition on that,” he jokes and you laugh half-heartedly. “Fuck it,” you brace yourself for the worst and you’re fighting so hard to just focus on exactly what he’s saying. “I’ve had…feelings for you for a…well a long time, I guess. It started way before we slept together. I was trying so hard to suppress it or pretend it didn’t exist but that night in your apartment, I just couldn’t help myself. I thought I’d messed it up by crossing that line and I panicked. When I got home, I was so fucking angry at myself that I just used the fuck buddy thing as a shitty bandaid to fix it.”

“I…I’m sorry but I just– I don’t know if I can believe you,” you let go of his hand and stand up, creating distance between you. You can see the hurt on his face but he doesn’t make any attempt to try and touch you. “That dinner you were so mean and after the way you’d acted already I just, I couldn’t believe how you were treating me, in front of everyone. Telling Carly about us was such a low blow.”

“I know, fuck I know. Seeing Jacob just drove me over the fucking edge and I know that is no excuse and if you let me, I will spend forever making it up to you.”

“Colson, we both know you’re only telling me this now because you don’t want to lose me as a friend or because you don’t want me telling people about how we’ve been secretly hooking up for almost a year.”

“I’m telling you this because you asked!” he’s on his feet now, completely ignoring the distance you tried so hard to create.

“I’d convinced myself that even though it wasn’t how I wanted things to be between us, at least it meant I’d get to touch you and kiss you. I had this fucking dumb idea in my head that there was never a chance in hell that a woman like you, could fall for a guy like me,” he rubs the back of his neck uncomfortably.“The more times we did it though, the harder it was becoming to not tell you how I felt. I got this genius idea that if I started coming over drunk, it’d help keep my mouth shut. It was so hard to push it all down because I don’t know if you’ve noticed but sex with you is like 10000 orgasms rolled into one.” 

You know in his own strange way, Colson is trying to compliment and you tell you how deep his feelings for you are all in one cheesy line. 

“After that last time when I let the voices in my head get to me and I ran like a fucking bitch. I watched you sleep and my mind just kept telling me that you deserve someone better. I knew that I’d finally gone and sabotaged the closest thing I had to an ‘intimate’ relationship. I should’ve just told you all of this when you told me on my birthday how you felt. I just– I wanted you to have better, that’s why I came over and tried to end things but you refused,” he smirks at you and suddenly how he acted early made sense. He was using your tactic against you and so help you god if it didn’t fucking work perfectly.

“I really liked that day with you,” you confess and he tilts his head in confusion. “That day that we spent in my apartment, just hanging out together. It was the best day I’ve had in a long time.” 

He reaches out and strokes your cheek, your eyes fluttering closed. He just stands there, stroking your cheek and you enjoy every second of it. There’s no words you need to share right this second. You have so many questions that you need answers to but for right now, you’re just enjoying being still. Having this chance to just stop and breathe for a second, the aching in your chest gone because Colson is here with you, you can think clearly for the first time in weeks.

“I had such a hard time just admitting how I felt. I didn’t want anyone to know. Rook knew bits and pieces but I don’t think he ever actually grasped my feelings for you, not completely anyway. In the restaurant that night, I spotted you from the moment we stepped in there and the only reason Rook and I were so deep in conversation was because we arguing about how badly I’d fucked up. Jacob being there just made me feel worse and worse about it and that’s why I lashed out. I wish I could go back to that night and tell Carly to shut the fuck up.”

“I wish I could go back to the night and punch her fucking lights out. Of all the women you could’ve picked…”

“Yeah, I know. She was always more of a headache than anything.”

He’s staring at you now, a question burning in his eyes. The scrutiny of his stare is so intense that you have to look away. You walk back to the bed and sit down but his eyes continue to watch you. You’re starting to feel self-conscious about why he’s staring and it’s raising your blood pressure so much you crack.

“Ok, just say what you want to say before you give me a brain aneurysm from the stress!” you yell at him, running your hands through your hair.

“I have no right to ask this, I know, and you can curse me out if you want to but I just need to know…Did you and him…sleep together?”

Suddenly you see that vulnerability that you were honestly starting to believe didn’t exist. He looks so unsure of himself, so insecure. You wonder if that’s how he’s seen you this past few weeks and that’s why it’s taken him so long to finally tell you how he feels. You want to quell his chaotic mind so you tell him exactly what happened when you left the restaurant. How kind Jacob was to you, how kind he was to Colson actually. He didn’t have to talk to you about him at all but he did. He wanted to show you exactly what Colson has just told you. You wonder if you should text him and tell him what Colson said but you push that thought away for now.

“Ok, good. I’m glad,” Colson chuckles and you give him a quizzical look. “I know this is a strange thing to confess but I have slept with someone since the first time we were together. I didn’t want to make you seem cheap by sleeping with other women. Like I said, you deserve better.”

You’re shocked to say the least. You can’t believe that all this time you thought he was still banging his way around LA and instead he’d been almost…faithful to you in some weird twisted way. You’d never talk about exclusivity when you worked out your ‘rules’. You feel bad for assuming that Colson would be like that but in your defense, up until 2 minutes ago, you didn’t know that Colson saw you as anything but a hook up. 

“I really want to kiss you right now,” you confess and the grin that lights up Colson’s face makes your chest warm and your heart literally skip a beat.

He steps towards you slowly, holding your face in his large hands. He leans down to you so steadily, grazing your lips gently at first. As your lips move against each other, the kiss becomes more intimate. Your lips part to allow Colson to slip his tongue in. Your hands begin to explore his body as your tongues war for control. He concedes and finally allows you to take the lead. You run your fingertips under his t-shirt, across his taut stomach and he shivers at your touch. You run your fingers along his hips, to his back where you lightly run your nails down his back. He moans into your mouth but quickly pulls away. You’re left breathless and slightly confused by his self-control.

“I want to wait, until everyone’s gone,” he nods his head towards the door and now you’re even more confused.

“Why?” you ask him, embarrassed at his rejection until he leans down to whisper in your ear.

“Because I want to take my time with you,” he tells you and now it’s your turn to shiver.

[jinx-on-mars-19xx]

The "Lonely Road" music video, where they’re playing house (and he probably already knew about the pregnancy), was released during Casie’s birthday week 🎁. Not the best birthday gift for a teen who’s close with her dad 💔. He could have waited to make the reveal, but he didn’t, so maybe he’s learned from that mistake and wants to approach things more THOUGHTFULLY in the future.

I think he’s really sensitive about including his firstborn, and he might have been upset 😢 that the pregnancy reveal excluded both him and her. His like on the post about Casie and him entering a new family chapter is the confirmation we were all waiting for: she’s pregnant, and it’s his child.

But that like definitely gives off the vibe of a family of three. I think the arrival of the baby has created two separate families, and it’s only a matter of time before we see that take shape: him, Casie, and the baby, and then her, her sons, and the baby. To quote our beloved Kamala, this situation is like a Venn diagram.

The tweet he liked suggests it’s a new chapter, and he seems to view it as just another season or era that will eventually come to an end. Deep down, I think he wants to expand his nuclear family of three again, but I just doubt Megan and her sons are the addition his heart is dreaming of.

I hope the best for his family: him and his two children! 👨‍👧‍👦

I hope it can expand later on, with the right woman [and her kid(s)] ⏳. I am sure in this case he would be more than willing to be a father figure to eventual "stepkids", unlike now.

Note: Megans kids are all innocent angels 👼🏼👼🏼👼🏼. They are so lucky to have a mommie like Sharna 💚 in their life! Bless them!!

Okay I'm going to try and answer all of this one but it's more a statement than a question and I think you said a lot very eloquently. I feel bad for Casie, she never seems to be included when Megan leads the charge and I wouldn't be surprised if that's what he's been upset about. Or maybe he's just decided yet again he doesn't want to deal with the public and yet again she's done it anyway.

I haven't seen the liked tweet and I stay away from Twitter if I can help it, Instagram is bad enough but I want to bring everyone here updates so I have to use some kind of social media. It's definitely seemed this whole time that the families have stayed separate, like when he takes Casie to an award show. Even when they're all together it feels odd. It sounds like he hasn't made blending the families very easy either and I won't defend him on that but if he believes the stuff she's said about her ex maybe he was rude to the man. Maybe they even agreed to keep everything separate mostly, I mean his daughter is a little too old for a new mom but hopefully if this is his kid then all the children can bond in some way.

I like the thought of him finding someone to be a good stepmom to his kids but I'm also just not sure he's a settling down type of guy. It never seems to work very well for him, though that might be his taste. I believe at first he thought he was getting his dream but that's also on him, people are never as perfect as they appear on screen and he was in love with the idea of her. She was in love with the idea of him. You can't build a family on illusion.

I genuinely hope she can be healthy someday, she has children who deserve to have a good relationship with all their parents. I just don't think they're healthy for each other at all and this baby won't fix that. I think as a society we've seen that a lot already to know.

[eridanidreams]

Fiction Friday!

This has been a fucked-up week for me; I missed WIP Wednesday (well, actually I posted a new kiss-related chapter of my Starfield fic instead), but I had intended to do more for ockissweek24.

And in honor of the Deus Ex prequels--YES, Eidos, I will keep talking about it--(and a hearty screw you to Embracer group), I give you this snippet from Odysseus Gambit...

Context: Adam and Sloane are undercover in an augmented MMA death-match competition; their cover is that of long-time partners... and lovers, and Adam has just rather dramatically won a tag-team fight after Sloane went down under an EMP...

Adam stood in the middle of the ring for a long moment, his opponent unconscious at his feet, blood oozing down his face, breath hurling itself into and out of his lungs in harsh gasps, the crowd’s ecstatic screams mingling with the adrenaline pounding through his veins to leave him light-headed. Another breath. Another. Sloane— she was struggling to pick herself back up, arms and legs still refusing to work quite right after the EMP; at the sight, something broke inside of him. Without thinking, he strode forward, reaching down to pull her to her feet; either she was taken by surprise or he was more forceful than he’d meant, because she lurched forward, off-balance and awkward with it. He caught her instinctively, wrapping his arm around her waist to brace her. She stared up at him, eyes wide, looking as dizzy and shocked as he felt, that ridiculous pink ponytail streaming down her back, her chest heaving against his. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips.

Pure need roared up inside him. Couldn’t fight it. Didn’t think he wanted to. Even the annoying voice in the back of his brain was silent for once.

Adam’s mouth closed on Sloane’s with the desperation of a drowning man who’d just found air. There was nothing gentle about it—he breathed in her gasp, his fingers sliding up her spine to entangle themselves in her hair, half-caress, half-restraint. It was good, so good—and when, after a moment of surprised stillness, she threw herself into it, it went from good to fucking amazing. Her mouth was alive under him, tongue dueling with his, teeth nipping at his lips, his beard. Her hand wrapped around the nape of his neck to hold him at least as fiercely as he was holding her. The other wandered down his back to clamp on his ass, pulling him hard against her. Her body molded itself to his, the bare skin of her stomach scorching through his torn t-shirt. She tasted like blood and sweat and hot, ferocious woman, and all he could think of was drawing this out as long as he possibly could, all too aware that the moment that had allowed it might never come again. He wanted to devour her, to brand her touch into his skin, her taste onto his tongue; to drown out the screams in his head with the sound of her pleasure, to drown out the screams in hers with his voice crying out her name. Wanted to shatter her armor of winter stone, to fuel her hidden fire with his breath on her skin.

Distantly, he could hear the referee’s voice over the gleeful cheers of the crowd. “The princess and the monster, the beauty and the beast! The winners, Tatiana Zhernakova and Dominic Bishop!”

The world oozed in around them, along with the reminder that here and now, they weren’t—couldn’t be—Adam Jensen and Sloane Delacourt. Here and now, they were Dominic and Tatiana, fighting partners and… Adam suppressed a groan… off-again, on-again lovers, and he’d just proclaimed to the crowd that they were ‘on’ again.

Sloane was going to kill him.

Adam broke the kiss off, taking a bare moment to appreciate the sight: Sloane, cheeks rosy with arousal, lips reddened and kiss-swollen, eyes flashing mingled anger and desire intermixed. Didn’t need a CASIE to see that every line of her body was screaming that she wanted more—and she could damn well feel him pressed hard and hot into her and know the same was true for him. Belatedly, he realized the ref was addressing him. “Dominic… your fans—” fuck, they had fans? “—are thrilled with your victory, but I think they’re even more excited about that kiss. Anything you want to tell them?”

Adam—Dominic—cleared his throat. “I’d say,” he said, in the smooth, slightly higher voice he’d adopted for Dom, “that’s for me to know and them to imagine.” Sloane—Tatiana—had folded her arms across her chest and was scowling out at the crowd, which only inspired them to more enthusiastic heights. He put on a cheerful smirk, adding, “A gentleman never tells a lady’s secrets.”

“You’re no gentleman!” someone shouted, to scattered laughter. “Tati likes bad boys!” came another comment. And a third, “She’s no lady!”

Adam didn’t know if the flush on her face was still from the kiss, or anger at the way he’d inadvertently put her on the spot, or just plain embarrassment, but he’d never admired Sloane more than he did right in that moment when she pulled on the mask of Tatiana and gave the crowd a sultry smile. “Nyet,” she said, planting a fist on one out-thrust hip, “I like bad men.” She shot Adam a look from beneath lowered eyelashes, eyeing him up and down, and fuck he wanted to throw her up against the nearest wall. Or floor. Or whatever would goddamned hold them while they screwed each other senseless. “Perhaps we should… discuss,” she added, toying with the ponytail. “In… private.”

The ref addressed her next. “Didn’t you say earlier you wanted to fight without distractions?”

Tatiana gave a throaty laugh. “Darling,” she flicked him playfully with her ponytail, “if he can kiss like that after that fight? Then he can probably still fight after what I have planned for him.” Adam damn well knew what she had planned wasn’t what she was implying, but try to tell his dick that. “But first,” she nudged the unconscious Kaczka, “a bath to wash the stink off.” She gave Tatiana’s trademark twirl, ending with her elbow bent just in the right place for him to take it.

“You heard it from her,” Adam managed to say, taking her arm on cue and giving the crowd a two-fingered little wave of acknowledgment. A bath? No. Even that little bit of touch was sending everything into overdrive. He needed a cold shower. Two of them. Or—not a cold shower. A hot shower. With her. Hands, slipping on each other, the water somehow cool against the fevered heat of their bodies—

The elevator doors closed between them and the rest of the world.

[spanishskulduggery]

Hey there, I always learn so many interesting new things on your blog. The way you answer everything in a very detailed way helps me understand Spanish so much better! <3

I was wondering for a while how you express in Spanish where in a book/movie/task you are. Phrases like "I'm in the middle/end/beginning of the book/movie..". "I'm at page 13/minute 35", "I'm at the part where the hero almost dies", "I'm at exercise 6 out of 9". (etc)

I've once been told to use "ir por" for one of those, but I've never seen it used context and it just sounds weird to me. Is there one phrase you use everytime? Or is there a different one each time?

Thanks in advance :) <3

I'm going to need the native speakers to add to this because I can only speak from my more limited experience here

So again, followers please let me know what you would say or what sounds natural to you

-

For these, you're more likely to use estar en or estar a OR you can use ir; it's often a matter of preference... I tend towards ir when I am actively reading or watching something, and estar when I am at a certain point specifically

estar en el principio = to be in the beginning

estar a la mitad = to be halfway through "estoy como a la mitad" = I'm like halfway through / I'm about halfway through

estar al final = to be at the end/ending

You can also see casi "almost" used here... like casi estoy al final "I'm almost at the end", or you can phrase it a different way like sigo en el prólogo "I'm still in the prologue"

You can use ir por in these like voy por la mitad "I'm halfway through", which to me feels more like "I'm working on it" rather than "this is where I am"

You can say things like estoy en la última página "I'm on the last page", or estoy con el último "I'm on the last one"... I'm not 100% sure what is most common, but you can see ir used too

voy por la página 45 [cuarenta y cinco] = I'm on page 45

voy por la segunda temporada = I'm on the second season (of a show)

voy por la tercera parte = I'm on the third part

I think estar en could also be used here too... like estoy en la página 45 to me reads the same as voy por la página 45 the only thing is that ir to me conjures a feeling of motion while estar is static... sort of like "I'm in/at" vs. "I'm going through"

If you're talking minutes my experience is it's estoy en el minuto X... like apenas estoy en el minuto 5 "I'm hardly five minutes in"

My instinct for specific problems is estar en el seis de nueve "to be on six of nine" or something like estar en el ejercicio seis de nueve "to be on problem six of nine"... the "out of" is usually de

Sometimes you see estoy en el último "I'm on the last one", estoy en el número tres "I'm on number three"... I think in some contexts and with certain verbs you could use con like estoy con el primer ejercicio which feels like "I'm focusing on the first exercise"

You'll also see things like voy por la primera temporada de siete "I'm on the first season out of seven (seasons)" for TV shows, or voy por la segunda película de la serie "I'm on the second movie of the series". In both cases I think estar would make sense here too

-

Note: You will also see the verbs pasar "to pass", or something like alcanzar "to reach"... like he alcanzado la última parte "I just reached the last part" or something like that, sometimes llegar a "to arrive to/at" as well

-

Side Note: You didn't specifically ask for this, but this also shows up with ages... this is more regional though. You often use tener for a specific age [because tener is just the verb you use for "to be X years old"], but estar or ir/andar por approximate ages or age ranges

I think in Spain you say something like estar en la veintena "to be in your twenties", estar en la treintena "to be in your thirties" etc etc

In Latin America you often say estar en los veinte (años), estar en los treinta (años)

Another one is andar por "to be in"... like andan por los ochenta (años) "they're in their eighties"

-Note that andar por is "to be around", so it could be like anda por los quince (años) which is like "he/she is around fifteen"... it could be a whole decade, or it could be "approximately + specific number"