#this town was like 9 hours away mind you
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thee last time i remember doing secret santa was right after i got kicked out and it was obviously the end of the year and i didn't go to school ever so i didn't even get MY PRESENT! which i only just realised. and anyway the person i got was actually my best friend at that school he was a little gayboy named ben and he was the new kid after me in our class of 10 people. and i put a 20 dollar itunes gift card and a bunch of chocolates in an envelope and wrote his address on it then just chucked it in his mailbox to pretend it got mailed and then my dad picked me up and i left forever 😭 insane move on my part. even though i was like ... 13.
#🐉#this town was like 9 hours away mind you#i think he did message me on skype and it was like are you coming back next year and i felt so bad i deleted mg entire account#that entire school was so weird it was kind of the best school i ever went to just on account of how small it was i guess#they ended up shutting down the following year anyway LOLLL so it's not like i could've dreamt of staying or anything#not that i'd even be able to you know. bc i got kicked out of my house LOL#but like half the kids were kids of like businessmen from overseas#i had a crush on an american girl named bella who was super popular and nice to me and hugged me all the time .. sigh ..#do you guys like it when i tell stories
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No ordinary love
Debrief: Terry promises to come back in one piece and something about those pretty eyes has you believing everything he says.
Warning: fluff, angst, no weapon formed against me shall prosper but against this mans eyes? We never stood a chance.
Terry has always and i mean ALWAYS been persistant. If he had a goal he didnt care about obstacles; that didnt matter. He could sometimes be so one track minded and while you loved that about him its one of the reasons you and him couldn’t date.
“Still look as good as i remember” You hear and your keys fall from your hands with a loud clatter against the freshly painted porch. After a long day at the hospital being the head nurse may pay well but they make you work for your paycheck. And after your 9 ½ hour shift that was only suppose to be 3 just to help cover everyone’s lunch you were so over it.
“What you doing back in town?” You ask reaching down for your keys but he beats you to it taking the heavy grocery bags from your hands relieving your arms for a moment. He could be here today and gone tonight that’s how it was with him and your attachment issues just didn’t allow that, you needed a constant. Fuck the military and mcmap but you also couldn’t ask him to choose you or a career, so you chose for him.
“Damn no ‘welcome back, i missed you, good to see you it’s been so long’?” he jokes trying to look you in your eyes but you avoid eye contact at all cost. You would fold the minute you looked into those electric blue eyes and when he smiled at you instantly you were weak in the knees fuck standing up.
“Its been so long i guess i should enjoy this time i have before you up and leave” you snap before finally looking up at him and it’s his turn to look away. “If im lucky you’ll say something before you leave this time, hmm?”
And yeah he was fucked up for leaving with no good bye but this man was so unbelievably down bad for you that had you made the slightest indication of wanting him to stay he would’ve. You heald his heart in your hand with no regard or maybe you just didn’t know but to hold that much power over someone was insane.
You can’t lie thee Terry Richmond was a fine fine FINE man. God took his time with him if he took 7 days to create earth he took 8 to make Terry and watching him do all the manly things around your home never got old as he hummed along to you playing Sade.
“See something you like?” He ask looking over his shoulder at you as you take a sip of the moonshine from your cup pulling his attention.
“I love a good handyman… might have to get me one im trynna see what that be like” you throw shade sitting on the couch not expecting him to make his way over to you holding your chin in his palm as he directs your head up to him.
“You can get the idea of another man out your head, i got some loose ends im trying to take care of but it’s always gon be you mama… always has been.” He promises and its the one that he doesnt let anything get in his way but you didnt want him to break this. You look away before he squats down pulling your face to his again lips close enough to yours all he had to do was breath heavier and yall would be kissing.
“So you finallygon’ let me take you out on a proper date?” He ask his lips brushing yours and you almost can’t even comprehend what he’s asking you feeling the heat buzzing so much between you two as it always did.
Your tongue grazes your bottom lip and he instantly follows it with his eyes before his thumb follows the trail.
You and i, baby… This is no ordinary love you hear sades voice through the speaker and make the mistake of looking up into his eyes yeah he had you on lock and no key to be found as much as you wanted to stand up you couldn’t.
“Ill think about it” you murmur your lips brushing his before pulling away drinking the rest of your moon shine his eyes watching you with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. He needed to take care of those loose ends ASAP.
And when the morning comes he’s gone… as you expected. You didn’t expect a bouqet of roses and sunflowers on your living room table. You can’t help the smile, you want to be so mad at him but damn this wasn’t no grocery store bouqet this was some professional shit.
Its another 4 days before you hear from Terry again, and in them 4 days you smiled on your way to work seeing the flowers although they would make you sad looking at them before bed. Just a reminder that all you had was an empty promise and empty bed never coming home to a man and really the only one that you knew was for you. Dating was pointless because none of them was him you didn’t even bother anymore yet he was probably out slanging dick left and right so before those thoughts can take over you submerge yourself deeper in the tub enjoying the lavender bubbles and cinnamon scent of the candles you lit.
Fuck, terry smelled like cinnamon.
“Oh so you do remember my number” You speak into the phone, sitting up a bit, voice raspy.
“I deserved that, how was work mama?” He ask and you instantly hear the frustration in his voice. He sounded tired, frustrated and like he wasn’t in the mood for shit yet he was calling you.
“You sound like your day was longer than mine” you admitted running your fingers through the bubbles and he chuckles.
“Yeah… just needed to hear your voice and I can get through anything. You like the flowers?” He ask and it sounds like he’s taping something a nervous tick you know he has. You don’t even let your mind wander into that territory just hoping it has nothing to do with his cousin mike who was always finding himself at the wrong place at the wrong time.
“Yeah a lot… you being safe out there? Wherever you are?” You ask and he laughs this time.
“Yes baby, gotta make it back to you in one piece” and he never said that before, never even called you. He must be in something deep.
“You in trouble with the law?” You tease earning another laugh and the sound of taping gets louder. Leave it to him.
“And im not your baby, either” you add and that makes him laugh… a real one you can’t hide the smile on your face just glad he can’t see it.
“That’s why you smiling ain’t you?” He ask earning an eye roll as you sink back further into the bath. Its silent for a second, a comfortable one and you close your eyes.
“Just…” you trail off not knowing what kind of trouble he was in. “One piece” you reiterate.
“One piece” he promises easing your mind before catching you off guard. “You miss me?”
And you hang up the phone.
The next time you see Terry again is when you’re up in the middle of the night, unable to sleep. You’ve tried a bath, a shower, journaling, reading the Bible and even eating. Ok and maybe catfish, baked mac n cheese and cabbage wasn't exactly a late night snack but it gives you a view of something rustling through the bushes outside and you're quick to grab the knife from the top of the fridge.
You don’t expect it to be a bloody Terry with two bullet holes one in his shoulder and one in his back not close to his spine but as a nurse youve seen enough life changing accidents and you never wanted it to be terry so as you sit on the couch behind you cleaning his wounds you silently pray over him, for him to any God that will listen that this man lives and comes out on top.
“Baby?” He asks softly and absent mindedly you answer not even realizing he called you that; just that he called you. You were stuck in your own thoughts. you stay quiet for a moment until he looks over his shoulder seeing the emotions swirling in your eyes. Anger, sadness, worry maybe even regret.
“Baby girl i'd rather you just yell at me and tell me you hate me than silent treatment” he grinds his teeth turning back forward so you can finish. It feels nice being touched in a tender way he can’t remember the last time somebody did it's just been fighting for the past few days…weeks… months.
Years.
You don’t say anything at first you look for words to say until you think of the only thing you know that will get through his head.
“You promised… you promised me one piece” you feel your eyes start to water and hes quick to turn around quick to face you when he hears the tremble in your resolve.
“I am in one piece…” he tries watching the way your eyes start to water with tears and you stand up tossing the needle and thread onto the coffee table next to his empty plate.
“Are you fucking serious? This aint one piece! This is not a life” you finally yell at him before a tear falls yanking your hand from his grasp. “You and this disappearing act fucking sucks! I never know when you’re leaving or coming back if it’s for days or weeks and when you do come back you leave all these promises of being with me and settling down! When? When the next bullet goes through your spine and you’re paralyzed?” You snap harshly at him through tears you don’t even give him a second to talk or breathe.
“You never break a promise because you pussyfoot around what actually happened. Its like telling a lie— not telling the whole truth is still a lie. I don’t want no more of your promises or half truths.” And he opens his mouth to speak but you arent done yet now that he got you started he was going to listen to everything you had to say.
“ You don’t think I’m worth more than that? I deserve flowers…all the time. And dates not promises of one. I deserve a person i know i can rely on, someone i can come home to because THEY are home not the house. I deserve love and alot of it…all the love i give without expecting anything in return and you know what? Nah. I need that in return. And you can’t provide that so i gotta let you go cause it’s hurting me more to hold on” you cry but articulate so perfectly hes silent. It’s nothing he could say you read him like a book, tore his heart out like some flimsy pages and closed it shut like you closed your heart off to him.
Everything was falling apart, he didn’t think his day could get worse. You had walked away and shut your light off making sure he heard you lock your door. Oh you were done done.
Leaning forward he drops his head in his hands you were the only thing keeping him at ease, the only thing keeping him going and without that he was fully ready to crash out. Ready to kill everybody in that crooked ass police station. Fuck peace, nah now he wanted problems.
Terry was a man that didnt let nothing stand in the way of what he wanted. You are what he wants and right now he was prepared to burn the whole state down if it meant getting you back in his arms, but this time officialy.
Yeah they fucked with the wrong one this time.
Cleaning up everything, the first aid kit, dishes and alcohol he had to clean up his act to he throws on a fresh shirt looking at the flowers you still had on the table even though they were starting to wilt.
You wrap yourself up in the blankets angry at how stupid this whole stupid situation was. It was starting to feel like that episode of spongebob where he keeps asking squidward “are you finished those errands yet” like an ass there are no errands squidward just didnt want to work and why were you so heartbroken over a man who didnt want to put in the work for you.
“Bitch and they were roommates” your coworker gossips over lunch just some leftovers you had thrown together though before you can ask any follow up questions theres flashing police lights, sirens and yelling making the two of you stand up and rush into the hall. Gossip hour would have to wait.
A familiar blonde girl gets pushed past you on a stretcher covered in glass and blood even blue lips. You know her, an unfortunate upbringing but she cleaned up even got a job at the court house and was in school for law.
“Summer?” You ask walking with the stretcher listening as everybody yells commands to another.
“You must be the girl… t-the girl he’s in love with” she smiles clearly dazed out of her mind. “He did 100 miles an hour with no tires” she whispers before passing back out.
Nothing she was saying was making sense and not that you gathered much but what you did gather is that there’s someone else in a car with her. Someone else that needs help so running back to the main entrance all you see is several shelby springs cop cars and damage to the front doors.
“One day somebody is going to take down those fucking crooked cops” you shake your head thinking maybe summer was to dazed and just saying anything.
“Baby girl” you hear behind you turning to see Terry who looks like he’s also covered in glass, this time a bullet proof vest a bouqet of roses and sunflowers in one hand and a vhs tape player in the other.
“Terry wh—“ he stops you pushing the flowers in your hand pulling your face to his and finally kissing you. His lips are warm and he kisses you hungrily holding you as if youre going to run when he lets go.
“Hey man” a security officer speaks up unaware of the situation, stepping too close for either of your liking.
“Shut the fuck up” he fucking barks before pulling you back to his lips licking into your mouth not caring about professionalism, or restraint just you… it’s always been you. Leaning back into the kiss giving him the same amount of passion and intensity he’s pouring into it you feel him relax with a slight groan.
Pulling back from him needing to breathe he chases your lips making you giggle.
“Stop denying me” he gruffs out only for you to swat at his hands pulling at his shirt to see if he's hurt anywhere but he shakes his head.
“One piece baby, i promised” and that was enough for you. No new bullets, cuts scratches anything. He heard you, heard your rant and didn’t say anything words wasn’t enough he had to show you.
“I also promised you a date… hows tomorrow night?” He ask before shaking his head pulling 3 crumpled hundred dollar bills out his pocket and tucking it into the front of your scrubs.
“Nah call out tomorrow, im picking you up at 6” he tells you with a smile this time shocked you pull him down for a kiss.
“Yeah… i did miss you”
#terry richmond x y/n#terry richmond#terry richmond x oc#terry richmond x black reader#terry richmond x reader#terry richmond smut#rebel ridge#aaron pierre x black reader#aaron pierre#aaron pierre x reader
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player 9
𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: finally reuniting with your family after years of working abroad, your six year old nephew doesn't leave your side. he wants you to take him to school, he wants to do his homework with you, he wants to sit on your lap during meals, and he wants you to watch his football practice. how convenient that you're almost always alone on that stadium, and that his coach is just the most gorgeous man you've ever seen in your life. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jeong yunho x reader 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5k 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: footballplayer!yunho, coach!yunho, whippedforhernephew'scoach!reader 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: gagging, semi-public sex, oral (m!receiving), creampie, unprotected sex
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: is it soccer or football? football or rugby? either way, i'd let yunho demolish me in the locker room (or in the middle of the football field). :)
𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲.
"it's called soccer, dumbass."
"no, it's called football, dumbass."
"you don't know what you're talking about." your brother rolls his eyes, then stuffs his mouth with the hotdog you had made for game night.
"there's a ball, and you kick it with your foot. what part of that seems to be the issue?"
"football is an entirely different sport-"
"oh give me a break-"
"god, it's like you both are sixteen again. is that just a natural thing? no matter how old you get you'll bicker like this all your life?" your mother complains, sipping her cucumber water and judging the calories on the table with a single eyebrow raise.
your brother's son, your nephew, laughs in your lap. you laugh with him, seeing the ketchup mess on his face and his sticky little fingers.
"and what are you laughing at, you little rascal? come here!"
the young man grabs the child from your lap, tickling the life out of him as a punishment for mocking his father. he playfully reaches towards you for help, and you do, tickling your own brother to make him stop.
"oh god, my white couch!"
"stop that, our daughter came back after many years apart and you care about the couch?" your father scolds his wife.
"it's not like that-"
"hush! is it 2:1? is it?! yes it is!" he jumps, spilling the beer all over the just mentioned couch.
"oh, heavens." her voice is light, and she looks like she is about to faint.
the four of you snicker, and silently cheer with another hot dog.
you forgot just how boring your town is. you do nothing but lay in your bed watching tv shows, walk to the local bakery, and drive your nephew to school. he is almost glued to you twenty four hours a day, and you don't mind. he is the squishiest thing ever, always listens to you, and helps you piss off your brother.
he doesn't have much of a mother figure in his life. your brother works a lot, and your parents are raising him. his mother died during birth, and even though they begged to save her and not the child, it was too late. your brother didn't want the baby at first. pushed it away, yelled at it, saying it took away his wife and his will to live. then, he started therapy. he started getting better, and started spending time with his child. your nephew has all the love he could possibly get, but your arrival changed him. he has become very attached to you; sneaking out of his room in the middle of the night just to sleep in your bed, making his kindergarten teacher call you mid playing just to tell you that he built a rocket out of clay, to only eating when he sits on your lap and you feed him.
much like this morning.
"auntie?" he mumbles between the waffle bites.
"yes, pumpkin?"
"will you watch me play soccer today?"
"it's football!" your brother calls from the living room. "you broke my kid."
"i didn't break him, i just passed him some of my IQ."
the man sticks his tongue out towards you, making his son giggle.
"don't you want grandpa to take you?" your father makes a disappointed face, teasing his grandchild.
"i want auntie to take me! and then you can meet my coach! and then you can see how cool our new jerseys are! we are only allowed to wear them at the stadium and not take them home because they are new. i really wanted to show it to you but coach wouldn't let me. he says i'd make it rip it as soon as i enter the house!"
"oh, how dare he!" you say, noticing your father's wink as a sign to support him.
"and sometimes he yells at me! but grandpa told me that he just means well, and that he only wants to teach me so i can be a great player like him! did you know that he is going to play the- the- oh no, what's it called again, grandpa?"
"the derby?"
"yes! that! he is going to play in a few weeks! he is so cool!"
he may not be able to feed himself, but instead of that, he can talk. all day long. and just sometimes, your ears become irritated. so you agree to drive him. you blast the music, muting his babbling from the back as he sits in his car seat. can anyone blame you? it's a two hour drive. you don't have the energy for it today.
you finally arrive, and after making sure you've locked your car and rolled the windows up, you finally let him lead you inside. you can barely keep up with him, he is too excited to see his friends. you see other women standing near the group of children, and you let go of your nephew's hand so you can greet them. after all, you'll be coming here quite often it seems.
"hi, just wanted to introduce myself."
"oh, the new stepmom?"
"what? no- i- what?" you're just as confused as them, and you look over to your nephew.
"oh, i'm so sorry! he keeps talking about his new mom and we just thought-"
his new mom? your confusion disappears when you see the little boy pointing his finger towards you, excitedly showing you off to his friends.
"no, no. i'm his aunt." you inform them.
before they get to say anything, the doors on the side of the stadium open, revealing a tall male wearing a jersey. you hear whispering behind you, maybe even a particularly long exhale, and you have to say that you agree with them.
the coach is stunning. he is drop dead gorgeous, and the more you look, the more self conscious you feel about your lazily picked outfit today. he is so tall and lean, his waist probably smaller than yours. his lips are plump and a pretty pink colour, and his hair a dirty blonde, almost a mullet. no wonder all the moms were dipped in makeup and dresses. you wore your brother's hoodie with his favorite football team logo on it, short leggings and zero makeup.
"hi, ladies." he greets, smiling at the group. he surely knows his impact.
his gaze stops on you, catching you red handed. you must've been staring at him weirdly, because he smiles wider your way, then finally lets the kids inside to change and get ready for the practice. all except...
"coach jeong! can my mom please come and watch me?"
"mom?" the coach is caught off guard, glancing your way.
"oh, no no, honey-" you try explaining. that man needs to know you're single.
"please?" the boy puts his palms together, and does his best puppy eyes to convince the man in front of him to let you in.
"well i- i guess. come in then." he holds the door open for you.
other women do not seem to take interest in going in and watching their children. instead, they greet the coach, then head over to the nearby café. your nephew tugs at your hand, smile so wide his eyes turn into half moons and he doesn't even see you.
"you little rascal." you scold him, ruffling his hair.
he runs off to the locker room, and you watch him drag the backpack that is almost bigger than him across the floor.
"well, this is an odd surprise. i didn't know he had a mother. not to be rude, of course."
"oh, i am not. i am his aunt." you finally explain.
"ah, so that's the case. i was wondering. you look so young."
he smells of freshly cut grass and a hint of manly sweat, mixed with some type of cologne. his face is clean shaven, giving you a chance to notice his sharp jawline as you walk together towards the football field.
"he is a gem, really. but, god, can he talk."
"i know. he got that one from me." you joke, knowing your nephew has outbursts of energy often.
yunho laughs, then opens another door for you. you finally step into the green field, nostrils immediately filling up with the pleasant smell of freshly mowed grass. you were never one for sports, but you gladly watched a game or two with your friends and now family. you wouldn't do it willingly on your own, you have more interesting things to do. but you don't hate it.
you also don't hate it when yunho places his hand on your lower back, guiding you towards the chairs where you've seen coaches and other member's of the team sit during matches. you thank heavens for the early winter sun and long sleeves, otherwise he would've seen the goosebumps from an innocent touch like that.
"have a seat. if they kick a ball in your direction, i'm sorry on their behalf."
"real comforting for my first live match, thanks."
the children run out on the field after changing, taking their positions on a white line in front of their coach. you study his moves, and needless to say, you find yourself squirming in the plastic chair quite soon. he is stern. he gives orders, guides them, and cares for them. you are turned on by something as simple as his yelling over the field. you never knew you could be so turned on by someone doing their job.
he starts the warmup, doing the squats and pushups with them. his arms aren't that big, but they are still muscular and decorated with bulging veins.
"coach, remember when you made us do pushups with your backpack on our back?" one of the older kids says.
"yeah, so? want another session?"
"no, no! i was just wondering if you could do the same." the rest of them start smirking, especially your nephew, and yunho scoffs.
"of course i can."
"but not with the backpack! with her on your back!" he points his little finger towards you, and you scoff.
"i don't think that's approp-"
"he can't do it," you accidentally interrupt, trying to save him.
he looks at you, one eyebrow cocked. you swear you could slip off the chair from the sudden rush of arousal.
"oh, really?" he asks, a smirk dancing on his lips.
"really." you decide to tease back, to see just how far it gets you.
"well why don't we try?"
he gets into the position, not even allowing you to decline. the team starts cheering, your nephew the loudest of them all.
"come on, now. sit on me."
you choke on your saliva. he smirks to himself, and you are ready to wipe it off. he likes teasing, doesn't he. little narcissist.
you walk over to him, purposely sitting on his back with force. but he holds, his wide back a comfortable seat. his arms start working his body. and your jaw drops at how easily he is doing the push ups with you on his back. the cheers get louder, seeing their coach effortlessly carry a person like that. he does a few more, just to show off, until you get off of him. your nephew runs over, hugging your leg and cheering for the handsome coach. yunho winks at you, then proceeds to train the boys.
your stops to the stadium become your new hobby. you sit on the same chair, watching the man teach the young ones, occasionally catching a glance or two from him, then arriving home and falling asleep mid day to the thoughts of his arms and voice. some days you fall asleep from simple thoughts, and some days you need a locked door and a buzzing device.
with each practice, he finds a way to somehow touch you. last time, he asked you to help him set up a new net on the goal frame. he couldn't "reach it", so he held you by your waist in the air while you secured it. if he can carry you around so easily, could he also carry you as he thrusts into you back in his office? or in the back of the-?
"guests! get up!" your mother knocks on the door, and you are quick to throw your gadget under your pillow, stopping the fantasies in your brain.
poor thing has been working non stop for the past few weeks, and still doesn't do a good enough job. sure, it gets you over the edge, but seeing yunho's slender fingers spin that ball so effortlessly when he is busy watching the kids play is just making it more complicated. not sure if on purpose, but lots of times he toys with the little hole on the ball that is there for inflating it. he circles it, slowly and carefully, eyes not leaving the green field. your eyes are locked on the ball and the middle finger rotating on the ball, mouth going dry as you almost feel that same finger circling your own hole.
"see? told you he's a gem." he interrupts your drooling one day.
"huh? oh, yes. absolutely." you catch a glimpse of your nephew celebrating victory.
you miss the way yunho bites his lip, hiding another smirk forming. he knows he has you wrapped around his finger, and he can almost smell the arousal off you. at first, he enjoyed teasing you for fun. but now? seeing that you've started showing up in short knitted winter dresses and knee high boots? it gets him going too. especially when you put those sunglasses on when you get in the car and help your nephew in his car seat, looking like a really hot young mom.
a mom he'd like to fuck all day every day in the back of the car after she drops her kids off at school.
"guests? who the hell is it?" you ask more yourself than your mother.
you throw on a sweater and the first pair of jeans you find, then check if you've put the vibrator away just in case a certain child decides to come in the room and snoop. it is securely locked in your drawer, along with a local newspaper cutout with yunho's figure on it, the jersey proudly stating his last name and his player number: nine. he looks dashing, so why not? you're not doing anything weird with it. just masturbating to it. no biggie. everyone does that.
it is a random wednesday and middle of the day. nobody familiar is coming to your mind when it comes to guests. but when you go downstairs and join your mother in the kitchen, you freeze. the big glass door to the patio is open, revealing the very coach you were just touching yourself to sitting on your favorite chair near the pool. your father hands him over a beer, like they do this every day.
"what is the coach doing here?"
"your brother invited him to wish him luck for the game next week." the woman simply explains, lining up the various cheese bites on toothpicks on the oval plate. "here, take this to your father while i grab a few more beers for them. for an athlete, you'd think he drinks less."
"mom!" you scold, in case he might have super hearing.
you carry the plate in one hand, while you use the other one to fix your hair. yunho is quick to notice you coming towards them, a smile forming on his lips as he examines you head to toe. you look cute in maroon and black, that oversized sweater hiding your waist from him. ever since he lifted you in the air that day to fix the net, he has been dreaming about holding that waist again. he wants to bite into it, leave purple marks all over it, kiss it and whatnot. you are just that addictive, and you didn't do anything but exist.
"hi, coach."
something about you calling him coach is setting his body on fire. it has the same effect on him as the word "daddy" or "sir" would have on someone else. he decides he enjoys hearing it from your lips. he hopes he'll get to hear it in a shape of a moan or gasp too.
"hi, my lovely assistant. did you know that your sister actually knows a thing or two about football?"
"soccer. and no, this dumbass right here?"
all three of you roll your eyes at his correction. yunho snickers, taking a sip of his beer.
"yes. she helps me set up the training ground and comes up with very interesting and actually beneficial stuff. the other day she even managed to score against our thirteen year old goalkeeper!"
you squint your eyes at the man, holding grudge for mocking you. he is half right, you did set up the training grounds for the kids. and you did score against the thirteen year old goalkeeper. go you!
"cheese?" you offer, stopping their little bullying session.
"why, thank you." he takes one, then continues his conversation about the upcoming game.
you run back to the kitchen, helping your mother with more drinks. you hear your nephew somewhere, and his quick and heavy footsteps.
"careful, i'm holding liquid!" you warn before he can bump into you.
you make your way towards the patio again, ready to secretly start flirting with his coach. you don't know how. you'll figure it out. only this time, he doesn't notice you coming, and stands up while still talking to your family. he doesn't hear you warn him over your nephew's loud and bad cover of the teenage mutant ninja turtles theme song, and walks straight into you, spilling the beverages all over his white t-shirt and your maroon sweater. you almost slip on the wet tiles, but his hands are quick to grab your waist and steady you. your body is pushed against his, soft breasts pressed against his own firm chest, your heart almost breaking through your ribcage and hitting his.
"shit, i'm so sorry." he finally lets go, then bends over to pick up the half empty cans of beer.
"oh, just leave it! i'll clean it up!" your voice is squeaky, hands still trembling from the interaction you just had.
his grasp is so firm, you want him to pick you up again just so you can feel that rush of lust one more time. the way his slender fingers pick up the pieces of glass from the floor shoots arrows to your core. a task so simple that it has you wondering if your brain is healthy for getting turned on by it.
"sweetie, will you go get coach yunho a new t-shirt so he can change? yunho, go with her, she will clean that up for you." your father offers, completely oblivious of your death glares.
the young man gladly accepts. he follows you quietly through the house, not yet speaking. you unlock your room, then let him in.
"ah, so this is what this door is? your nerdy little room. always wonder every time i come over."
you rummage through the pile of unironed clothes on the ironing desk in the corner of your room, trying to tell the difference from your brother's and father's plain white t-shirts.
"so you come here often?"
"not that often," he walks over to your nightstand, looking through the window above it, "they sometimes invite me for dinner or lunch as a thank you for training their grandson. say, why do you keep your room locked?"
you plug the iron into the socket, then wait for it to warm up as you turn to face him. his fingers are tracing the corner of the nightstand, somehow seductively.
"to keep my nephew from snooping." you laugh nervously, seeing how close his hand is to the forbidden drawer.
"right," he hums, nodding his head.
the iron makes a sound, notifying you that it is ready for use. you turn your back towards him, ironing the creases in the soft fabric. you hear him walk around the room, probably admiring your poor taste of room decorating when you were seventeen. you didn't manage to redecorate much, only bring in some things from your old home. like the very toy that is buzzing in his hand right now.
"interesting."
"god, give me that." your cheeks are flaming hot.
you hid today's pink pleasure, but forgot about the yesterday's one, also from an interrupted session. he holds the silver bullet vibrator in his hand, playing with the settings on it.
"give it back! it's dirty, how can you even touch it?"
"oh, so it's recently been to places? i don't know, looks pretty clean to me."
you reach for the shiny item, but he is quick to throw it in his other hand. he smiles, amused by your poor attempts at getting the gadget back.
"we can do this all day, or..." he points it towards you, like a magic wand, "you can show me the proper use of it."
your heart drops, and your stomach feels like a centipede is walking all over it. your mouth goes dry, and your eyes feel like they're going to jump out of the sockets.
"what?" you manage to say.
"show me how you use it." he simply says.
"you're crazy. here's your t-shirt." you grab it from the desk, avoiding eye contact with him.
you hear his wet one drop on the floor, and he reaches for the one in your hand. instead of grabbing the clothing item, he grabs your wrist, pulling your body into his bare one. you gasp, eyes looking up into his as his other hand snakes around your waist, vibrator still secure between his fingers.
"those jeans are driving me crazy." he admits in a whisper. "and looking at that bed, i can't stop imagining you using this on your dripping little cunt after coming back from my practice."
you hate that he is right, but you won't tell him that. ever.
"i have more attractive things to masturbate about." you whisper too, eyes dropping down on his pink lips.
"like what?"
"like that substitute coach from monday morning?"
"ah, so your little hole only clenches for song mingi? got it."
he lets go of you, throwing the vibrator on the bed. you gulp as you watch him wear the freshly ironed warm t-shirt, eyes running down to his v-line and defined abs. he is so damn hot.
"i should get back there. wouldn't want anyone to know how desperate you are for me." he winks.
"i'm not desperate!" you reach for a pillow, ready to aim it at that smirking face.
the next few days, you ask your father to take the boy to the practice. he is sad, but if you look at yunho one more time after a good training session, after his jersey starts sticking to his skin and reveals all his curves and hollows, after his sun kissed skin starts shining from sweat, and after his veins start bulging even more, you might drop on your knees at his feet and just take him in your mouth right there in the middle of the field. with nobody around, of course.
the derby is getting closer and closer, and you go to the practice one more time before it accompanying your father. you sit quietly as you watch him fidget in his usual spot. he doesn't yell today. he doesn't instruct. he doesn't do a warmup. he lets the kids play whatever they want, just shushing them when they start cussing and punishing them with burpees. he is nervous about the game, that you know.
"hey," you call after practice.
your father is busy helping his grandson change his footwear, while you busy yourself with comforting the coach.
"it'll be good. you'll win, i know it."
"our goalkeeper is kinda shit. he has been alcoholizing himself the past few days, too nervous about the derby. i'm afraid he is going to get some kind of poisoning, or that he'll show up drunk. or hung over. i don't care about the win at that point, our image will be destroyed."
you hum, looking over at the dark clouds approaching in the distance.
"get some sleep tonight. if you want, call me. i am known to put people to sleep with my talking."
he laughs, sincerely. nothing flirty this time. "will do, darling."
"i'll see you tomorrow then, coach. hopefully with a trophy in your hand."
the game went fabulously. they destroyed the other team, despite the goal keeper being a little hung over just how yunho predicted. they all cheer, your nephew is going crazy in the front row, and so are you. shiny confetti is flying everywhere, some of it landing on yunho's head. he is holding the trophy above his head, pure happiness on his face. he is cute.
the celebration continues in the decorated basketball hall, drinks and food already served and music already blasting. the audience is slowly leaving to join the team in proper celebration, and it takes almost half an hour for the place to properly empty before you can move. a few families stay behind, cleaning after everyone and collecting lost items to hand them over to the doorkeeper later. you and your mother stay to help, collecting all the confetti and food remains.
"miss! miss!"
you turn around, almost bumping into a woman. she holds a backpack in her hand, and hands it over to you.
"would you be a sugar and go give this to player nine in the locker room? their coach had to go and didn't have time to give this to him."
"but-"
"thank you so much! i've gotta run."
and indeed, she does run. your mother nudges you with her elbow, rushing you towards the stairs and to the entrance under the bleachers.
you do not know where you are going. the hallway is empty, and there are no signs on any doors. you almost reach the end, hopelessly dragging the heavy backpack with you. a door to a locker room is half opened, and you decide to knock. receiving no response, you carefully enter, the strong smell of body spray pinching your nose.
"coach?" you call.
he doesn't answer. you set the backpack on one of the benches, then make your way towards the other side of the room. a jersey is discarded on it, the number nine proudly facing up from the bench. you reach for it, feeling the fabric in your hand. he smells so good. not a strong scent, like the rest of them have. he is more of a soft vanilla mixed with slight sandalwood. you bury your nose in the fabric, surprised that even after sweating so much after the game, the jersey isn't smelly and wet.
two hands creep onto your waist, startling you and making you jump.
"i snooped through your things, so now you have to snoop through mine?" he teases.
you feel his naked wet chest press against your thin blouse, and a slight bulge in the back of your pants. he turns you around swiftly, allowing you to take a good look at him. he is fresh out of the shower, smelling absolutely heavenly. his hair is not yet dry, waterbeads sliding down his neck and collarbones and disappearing down his v-line into the towel he has so carefully wrapped around him. it hangs low on his hips, probably on purpose.
"aren't you going to congratulate me?"
"congratulations?"
"i was thinking about a different kind of congratulations. something like..." his finger pulls at the belt hoop of your pants, then lets it snap against your skin, "this."
"you have to play another match to get to that point," you tease.
"do i now?"
truth is, you wish for nothing more than to get down on your knees and have him twitch in your mouth. you so desperately need it. so you let your hand reach for his towel, easily undoing it and letting it fall on the floor. you don't look down just yet, eyes locked with his. yunho finally grabs your face by your jaw, pulling you in for a hot kiss. his tongue is quick to find yours, circling it and rubbing it all the right ways. your blouse doesn't get unbuttoned. ripping it open seems faster to yunho, firm hands shredding the fabric and letting buttons fly to the floor. you gasp at the action, and he is quick to place his hands on your breasts. you're thankful for wearing a decent bra today, not one of those you had as a teen.
"i'll have to see you wearing my jersey and bouncing on my cock one day after practice. think you could do that?"
"i think i very much could," you say, excitement running in your veins.
yunho sits on the bench, trying to pull you into his lap. you stop him, dropping down on your knees. a proper congratulations.
you take a moment to admire his length. he isn't thick, but he is very long. he feels hot under your fingers, eager to be taken cared of. your tongue gets a first taste of him, and soon after, you're struggling to take him in. he is too big for you, but the pleasure is too good for him to back away. he grabs your hair, pushing your head down to make you swallow as much of him as you can.
"yunho?"
you freeze around his cock, eyes going wide. you are hidden by a row of lockers, but only a few steps in and the whole situation would be visible to the poor intruder.
"keep going," yunho mumbles, caressing your cheek.
you slowly start swallowing him again, working your tongue around him.
"yes?" he says, masking his pleasure well.
"everyone is waiting for you, man. they already finished off that fruit tart you were waiting for!"
"let me just take a quick shower and i'll be right there."
"if you say so."
the door shuts, and yunho spares no time in ramming his cock into your mouth a few more times before pulling you off and picking you up. he slams you against the lockers, hands firm on your thighs. he manages to take off your pants, not bothering with the panties. he only pushes them aside, and not even bothering to stretch you out beforehand, carefully inserts his hot muscle inside of you. it is no use biting your hand down to hide the noises, his pace continiously ramming into the soft spot inside of you, making your eyes roll back.
"you'll have to be a bit more quiet, baby." he says, voice low and raspy.
you look at him, your body completely relaxed in his hands as you take every pump he has to offer. yunho looks at you as if he is trying to hypnotize you, with eyes so focused on your face, examining every single reaction you have to his moves.
"we wouldn't want anyone to interrupt again, would we?"
you shake your head, unable to speak. you can only moan, louder and louder, as your fingers desperately tug on his still damp hair. having had enough of your loud noises, yunho carries you to the bench, cock still buried deep inside of you. he lays you on the bench, then reaches over your head to grab something.
"open up for me," he instructs.
you do, and he gently places his jersey between your lips so it muffles your moans.
"good girl," he praises, then continues his moves.
the fabric in your mouth proves itself useful, successfully muffling the noises you make. not long after, you feel the pleasure building up in the bottom of your stomach.
"fuck, you're clenching so much, i'm going to cum soon," he hisses, hands desperately gripping your waist.
you look at him with pleading eyes, hoping he would take the message and make you cum too. he recognizes it, and brings his hand to his mouth, wetting his fingers. he then places them on your clit, rubbing the tense bud in ways that have your back arching from the bench, mentally begging him for release already.
"fuck-" he groans, speeding up.
you bite down on the fabric, focusing on reaching the sweet release, clenching your walls to help him reach his too. he moans, for the first time, throwing his head back as he fucks his seed into you, filling you up until you can't take it anymore and let it spill on the bench. the new warm sensation inside of you triggers your own orgasm, your hands reaching for his as you twitch, orgasm washing over your body in multiple ways.
yunho holds your hands above your head, pressing kisses along your exposed collarbones and neck, calming you as you get down from the high. it takes you a while to come back to your senses, feeling yunho's hair tickling your bare skin as he still peppers your skin with kisses.
he laughs fondly, seeing what a mess he made out of you. removing the jersey from your mouth, he wastes no time in kissing you properly, this time a bit softer than before.
you pull away, the cold air from the air conditioner finally hitting your bare skin and sweat, making you shiver.
"so..." you breathe out.
"so..." he repeats.
"when is your next match again?"
feedback greatly appreciated! 💕
#ateez imagine#ateez#ateez smut#ateez imagines#kpop smut#ateez x reader#ateez x y/n#ateez x you#yunho#jeong yunho#ateez yunho#yunho smut#yunho x reader#yunho x you#yunho x y/n#jeong yunho smut#yunho scenario#yunho imagine#yunho oneshot#yunho drabble#ateez scenario#ateez fanfic#ateez oneshot
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Tickets for Two
Miguel O'Hara x GN!Reader two-shot
Part 2
This is part one of this story that's been on my mind for quite a while.
Summary: Working the graveyard shift at a movie theater has it quirks. It's not the best thing, and it's not the worst.
Well, there is one thing that keeps you from leaving this job.
The huge, gorgeous man who comes in every Thursday.
CW: Nothing for this chapter, just having a crush on Miguel.
Word count: 1.7k
There was something about Thursday nights in the movie theater that always made you exhilarated.
It wasn't the smell of freshly stale popcorn that stunk up your nostrils or the fact that you were able to score the after-hours time slot on this day. The ones many would kill to have because after 9 p.m., the place is a barren ghost town. Oh, no. It wasn't one of those reasons.
It was him.
Throughout the year and a half you managed to survive working here; you've never seen a man like that before in your life. Yes, you've seen your fair share of attractive people come in and out; of course, this was a place to watch the latest hit-or-miss films. But this one, this one was different.
Tall, high cheekbones, a jawline that could shapren diamonds merely by looking at them, those piercing eyes, and those muscles. You always have to pinch yourself to make sure you're not dreaming.
He started coming three months ago for the ‘Traditional Thursdays’ feature presentation. Your theater would show old movies from the 1930's ranging to the 2020's or 2030's. It was a nice addition, as your boss wanted to have that “retro-style feel,” and it was pretty successful… if one were to go at the 9 p.m. slot. That frame usually brought in a decent amount of customers, but you were happy to not deal with that anymore.
You managed to get in the ten-to-one schedule block. It was a ghost town during those hours, especially with the midnight showings. You would lounge behind the concession, eyeing a few nightcrawlers emerge, but you would wait for him.
He would walk through the sliding doors exactly at midnight. Never a minute early, never a minute late. The actual film doesn't begin until 12:10 to showcase the following week's feature and a trailer or two.
So it gives him enough time to head in your direction. He has become a regular for you, always ordering a medium black roast coffee, a small popcorn, and a pack of gummy worms. It got to the point where you realized the items were never going to change, so you made it a habit to have them prepared for him on hand. You barely speak because you don't know what to conjure up, and you certainly don't want to make a fool of yourself, so you stick to the basic “Here's your order” and “Enjoy your film.”
He always responds with a “Thank you” or an “I appreciate it,” and each time, your knees will wobble. His voice was smoother than the butter that you poured on the popcorn. He had you weak. His chiseled profile, his domineering height—he was too good to be true. You want to know more about him, but he's very much to himself. You are intimidated by him; his demeanor can make him seem unapproachable, but that only draws you in more.
There will be a day you will finally find the courage to strike up a conversation. One day.
You just weren't expecting it to be today. You manned the concussion stand, eyeing the time and counting the milliseconds. It was, of course, slow, but you loved it. Easy money to you.
His order was fresh and ready to go; he was going to stroll in less than a minute, and you had to put a lid on your excitement. And like clockwork, he came in and made his way right to you.
Putting on your best smile, you placed the snacks and beverage on the counter. “I got everything ready to go, sir. Piping hot and a new batch of popcorn made.”
“Actually, I want to switch it up. I'm sorry for the inconvenience.”
Your brain practically malfunctioned. Not from the request, but from the fact he uttered more words to you. Your reaction must have given something away as he rubbed the back of his neck.
“If not, that's fine. I don't want you wasting supplies on me.”
Scolding yourself, you shook your head and waved your hands. “No, no! No, sir, it's not an inconvenience at all. I'll gladly ring you up with a new order. Anything for the customer.” You despised saying that phrase as it got so many ungrateful, smug idiots out of problems they decided to cause. But for him? You would repeat it endlessly.
Discarding the usual and clearing the order from the register, you nodded. “What are your taste buds tingling for?” Did you really say those words in that order? Your body suddenly wanted to combust.
The man raised a brow as you chuckled nervously. “That sounded... less dumber in my head.”
His lips turned upwards at that, and your heart stopped. He smiles? He can smile! You never once saw him do that, but if you did, you managed to miss it. He managed to look more radiant; how was that possible?
“Well, my taste buds are craving pretzel bites, fruit snacks, and... can I make my medium roast into a large?”
“Yes, sir, I'll try to get it done before the film starts.”
“No hay necesidad de apresurarse. Take your time.”
“Okay.” You squeaked out, hiding your flustered state from him.
Miguel rested his arms on the countertop and observed the way you moved back and forth, blending new beans and meticulously placing the hot pretzels in a bag.
“Here you go.” You reached down and took a packet of fruits and propped it nicely on the pretzel bag. “Steaming and raring to go.”
“Are you usually precise when making these orders?” Miguel pulled his wallet out and paid for the meal, leaving a nice tip.
“Kind of. Maybe it's because I have more time to do these things, and I like my regulars to enjoy nice treats.” You grinned and went to clean up his usual. “I hope you enjoy.
“I'll be sure to keep that in mind. Definitely keeping sure. Thank you again.”
You didn't know what meant by that as he took up his things and headed off to catch the film. You put your hand to your chest and calmed your heart rate, going on about your night. You honestly believed that would've been the end of that interaction and that the following week would revert back to the same old, same old, but you were far from it.
The next Thursday, he was there, but fifteen minutes earlier, asking for a new item from the menu alongside the other treats. You were once again thrown off, but that didn't mean you got to be near his presence more, and if not longer.
It started off with small extras. A bag of pretzels, sized up on the popcorn, an extra bag of candy—nothing too extravagant. However, as the weeks coasted by, the orders got bigger. A hotdog, flatbread pizza, sliders—those meals took you longer to make, but you did not mind one bit.
You got to chat with him constantly; when Thursday rolled around, you had that extra pep in your step. The conversations ranged from his tedious office filled with people of the same personality, the many tales of strange movie customers from you, or anything that springs to mind. He was awkward, loveable, and sweet, and your crush for him only grew more with each visit. To the point that it was overwhelming.
And it wasn't blowing away anytime soon.
You were fixing him up a basket of curly fries and chicken tenders casually yapping away when the topic of movie genres popped up.
“I'm into animated movies. They seemingly are able to convey more emotions than actual humans.”
Miguel enjoyed watching you; he honestly preferred looking at you than the film he was supposed to see. “I enjoy them as well. They tend to have moments that resonate with you on a higher emotional level.” He tapped his finger on the glass counter. “Do you have any favorites?”
“Hmm.” You rubbed your chin before moving back over to the fries and dumping some extra salt and pepper on them (they barely had any flavor to them). “I like a good Lixar film. It's funny how they're able to give certain things sentiment. Rather it's inanimate or not, they find a way. I mean, they gave a torso and sweater emotions. A sweater!” You poured the fries into the plastic basket and moved onto the tenders. “Now in particular, I love Bouillabaisse. Up is a heartbreaker, but I can understand the older man's pain. Searching Elmo is so gorgeous, especially for the time it came out. And Coco, that's a tearjerker. That ending scene when he's singing to her? Gets me every time.”
“I enjoyed all those as well.” Miguel took a sip of his freshly brewed coffee. “Especially the last one.”
“Oh yeah?” You grabbed some tongs and flipped the tenders to cook them evenly.
“Sí. A bit of a bias though.”
“A bias?”
“I share the name of the main character.” He stared right into your eyes as he said that.
“Miguel.” It was velvety as it slid off your tongue.
Was that a suave way of him giving his name? It never occurred to you that you actually never learned his name. He knew yours because of the required name tag, but you were glad to know it now and took it with no complaints.
“It fits.” You smiled and finally finished and rang up his meal. “I shouldn't keep you from the movie. I hope everything is of satisfaction for you.”
“You already know it will be.” He paid and reached for his goods when he stopped.
You crooked your neck and looked down to make sure you didn't miss anything. His usual and the new meal were there, so you didn't know what was up.
“Is everything okay? Did I mess up your order?”
“Everything is fine. I only want to…” he snatched up a napkin and scanned, even going as far as peering over the counter.
“Miguel?”
“Do you have a pen?”
“Yes?” You took one from under the register and handed it to him.
“Thank you.” He scribbled down at lightning pace and folded it half, sliding it across to you. “I'll see you then.” He bowed his head, snagged up his meal and left.
You had to wait several seconds to recover from your shock when you hastily snatched up the napkin and opened it up. You drew your lips to your teeth to prevent yourself from screaming.
There were ten digits written in blue.
#miguel fanfic#miguel x reader#atsv miguel#miguel o'hara#miguel x you#miguel spiderverse#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel spiderman#miguel o’hara x reader#two shot
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—--
1/?? — Screwed Up
Next part ->
TW!: blood, injury, mentions of death, language, violence
Word count ~ 1000 words
—--
Randall crawled out from beneath heap of metal scraps and junk which was supposed to be the entrance of his home; evident by the old carvings on one of the pieces of cardboard from the couple of kids that liked to follow him around.
'These storms are more of a problem than I thought,' the smallfolk bristled. He sighed, deciding to get to fixing it later, and brushing away the feeling.
He was a busy man with deals to make and suckers to cheat. With his self-built confidence, he adjusted his scarf, tugged at his socks, slicked back his hair, and brushed off his coat. Content with his look, he made his way through town.
Unfortunately, travel wasn't the easiest thing in the homey town (which Randall had never learned the name of in all of his 9 years living there), in fact, it was one of the hardest.
Randall dashed towards the exit of the dark alley, stopping abruptly before he was cast in the light of the orangey last hours of sunshine. He peeked around the corners for the beast that made him believe the "man's best friend" title was bullshit. Good thing for him, all he could see was the metal rod in the ground and the thick chains that it was usually tied to. He was relived he didn't have to climb up the old downpipe today.
There was still dangers that Randall had to face, the most important being one of those big people. Despite the charismatic smallfolk's rather impressive height of 12.7 cm, amongst giants; he was thought of like a rat.
With that in mind, Randall carefully, cautiously, stayed near the towering apartment buildings, making sure he wasn't close to the middle of the sidewalk where all the foot traffic of a couple of people here and there was. Over the half hour or two he was scampering along, there were a few close calls of almost being spotted, but he prevailed and made it to his destination.
Readying himself, Randall jumped and caught his hands on the grooves of the decorated stone which acted somewhat like a ladder for the folks that visited. He climbed -- ableit with a bit of struggle -- up the massive building, one that was home to the Bright Market, the "hot-spot for money making." Heaving himself onto the back of the large, glowing sign that read something along the lines of "Pet-ee's," he was met with familiar sight of the bustling stalls.
Randall knew where he needed to be, as did the fools who accepted his offer. Little did he know, though; that it might be his last.
He walked towards the back of market, nearing the edge of the vast roof-top, where he saw the same brute of a man sitting on a makeshift bench; the one who asked for his services in the first place.
The conman leaned against a post, eyeing the client with his usual confident gaze, the phantom of an amused smile on his face. "So, you got the bits?" He inquired.
"I've heard from a friend that you have quite the reputation, Mr. Franklin," the toned man stated with his deep, gravely voice, his fingers tracing his whiskers.
Randall bristled. He didn't tell the man his last name. Things sudden felt a lot less safe. From the corner of his eye, he could spot a handful of others nearing where they were conversing. "...I see you have," he responded, attempting to keep up his charismatic demeanor, though; the change in tone made it known that he had a good idea as to what was going on.
"...They said they wanted the money back," the man said, finally making eye contact with Randall. He sat up at an intimidating height, slowly walking up to meet Randall at just a couple inches of distance. Something was definitely wrong.
The he dared to try and dart off to the side before things got messy- being gutted in the stomach, now pinned between the wall and the brutish man's arm before he could even get two steps away.
Randall struggled to get free, his legs kicking against the other's, searching for to get back to the floor as his hand scrambling to grab at his side for his dagger which had fallen onto the floor.
His eyes widend as the man drew back his arm; fist tightened.
Shit.
...
...
...
In his blurry vision, he squinted, trying to make sense of the growing lights and the loud growl that sounded louder and louder as a silhouette became more clear--
Randall had figured out it was a car before the very second he was nearly run over. 'Those assholes tossed me on the road while I was unconscious!' he realized. Before he could get too angry about it, adrenaline buzzed in his head. He needed to get somewhere safe before something killed him.
As Randall attempted to stand, a shot of pain in his legs knocked him back to the ground. He reeled, sucking in air before he let out a strangled cry. 'Don't do that again,' he noted to himself.
Pitifully and painfully, he reached out his arms and started pulling himself through the gravely pavement, his body scraping against the rough texture as all nine of his fingers grasping and a few prayers setting him on his way.
After a while, the smallfolk's sensitive ears perked up at another noise — this time not a massive car barreling towards him — but instead, it was the stirrings of rain. It didn't take long for him to pelted with the sudden downpour.
Randall idly thought about giving up, yet the illuminating, towering street light ahead, standing out admists the dark, filled him with an odd and unfamiliar sense of hope.
He was close, he could leave this okay.
With that, the now determined and drenched smallfolk trudged through the ever growing puddles, nearing the sidewalk. He thanked the gods that there weren't any big people out at this hour.
Randall was so determined, in fact, that he didn't pick up the final noise over the rain.
The most important one.
It wasn't until the light had flickered that the little conman's focus had faltered, the instinctual reminder to scan his surroundings only now ringing in his head. His mildly articulated ears perked up at the sound of something distant, almost sounding like scraping thuds...? It was rythmatic, a set pace. And like the car, it neared closer, and became louder.
Randall almost shrieked at the sight of two giant work shoes that appeared far too early and far too close, accompanied by two impossibly long legs, arms, and... -He couldn't run, he realized, nor hide. He was at the mercy of a big person of all things.
He was screwed.
Wowie kazowie lookie here!! Me? Writing?? Impossible!
—--
Im planing on making more of these but this is just here for now incase
their first meeting!! First time writing something like this,,
I made a drawing before right here of the final scene ,
#i cant tell if its bad bc i wrote it without anyone else helping me correct it#(bc i thought i was cringe)#so uhmmm........!#sorry if this actually sucks. .#gt#g/t#giant/tiny#sfw g/t#size difference#gt writing#gt fearplay#my ocs#gt oc#gt ocs#writing#g/t writing#tw: injury#tw: blood#tw: violence#tw: mentions of death#tw: language#btw tell/ask me anything youd like#feedback and criticism is somethin g i desperately need rn#oc: Randall
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I Didn't Ask For This (Part 9)
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8
Summary: Marriage had always been something sacred to little Y/n, something dream like, where her husband would come and whisk her away to a fairyland. At least, that's what she had always thought.
All her dreams would be shattered.
But maybe she can salvage them?
•○●⛦●○•
Tw: forced marriage, none more that I can think of, so let me know if I need to add anything.
A/n: I've been soo excited to write this part, especially the ending. Despite the almost whole thing being erased because I didnt save it, I like this part. Hope you do too.
Enjoy!
•○🌑○•
Y/n smiled softly as she stared at the Sidra, standing next to Azriel while leaning against the railing of the bridge.
"It's very peaceful." She murmured.
"That it is. It feels more so at night, because there's more chaos nearby." He offered. She nodded.
They had been walking around the city for a couple of hours now, and it was almost dinnertime. They had decided to rest for a few moments before continuing. She was so tired that she was sure that her legs would fall off if she took another step. Obviously, she hadn't considered the consequences when she promised to spend the whole day with him.
The whole morning and afternoon was spent with him pointing at shops and telling her of how he and his brothers terrorised Velaris in their younger years. Y/n's stomach hurt from how much she had laughed. From those stories, she knew that most of his five hundred years had brought him happiness. And that made her happy, for a reason she didnt want to think of.
He tilted his body so he faced her more. "Where do you want to eat?"
"I don't know...can't you decide?" She glanced at him, quickly turning back to the river, because she couldn't look at him for more than a moment without blushing. Especially with the intensity with which he looked at her. As if she was the only person in the world and if he didn't pay attention to every word she said, he'd die.
She could feel him smile as he straightened. "There is this place along the banks of Sidra. Its the inner circle's current favourite place to eat."
"Okay." She mumbled as she turned to him. "How far is it?"
"Don't worry. I'll carry you."
"Excuse me?"
He grinned, turning away from her and giving her instructions to wrap her arms around his neck, ignoring her protests. She finally relented, his hands going under her thighs to hoist her up. He couldn't look at her, which she was glad for, because all he would've seen was the redness in her face.
She clutched him tighter as he started walking, mindful of his wings. He again started telling her stories.
"There used to be a restaurant there." He pointed to a tailoring shop with a jerk of his head. "When we ate there for the first time, we were obsessed. We made plans all week to eat there on the weekend. When the day came, Cassian starved himself in hopes of being able to eat more. And, because he was so hungry, he gobbled down all the food without chewing. When we were leaving, he started feeling nauseous."
Y/n grinned and rested her head on his shoulder, having an inkling of where this was going.
"As soon as we stepped inside the town house, he threw up all over the threshold. After that he never even stepped foot in the general vicinity of the restaurant, as if it was somehow cursed."
Y/n laughed. "He is... a masterpiece."
"That he is." He agreed. Soon, they had reached the restaurant he was telling about and he helped her settle before he took seat.
As they ate, he managed to get Y/n to tell him about her life. And, because there were not really any happy or pleasant memories in her life, she told him of the less gruesome and painful ones. She watched as his anger grew with every word from her mouth.
When they were flying back, he stayed mostly quiet, as if lost in thought. Before they landed though, he turned to her.
"There is a family dinner tomorrow at the river House. I'd be happy if you came."
She considered it for a moment before nodding. "I'll come."
"Thank you." Quiet joy took over his face as he set her down, his lips twitching as if he was holding back a smile as he kissed her hand before flying away.
She stared at his form until she couldn't anymore, smiling.
Azriel had been extremely adorable today, and she would be lying if she said that she wasn't excited to see this side of him again.
•○🌑○•
The darkness was creeping in again as she stared at her abdomen in the mirror. Her shirt was stuck around her wrists as she clutched the cloth to her chest. The disgusting thoughts and vile ideas she had regarding the disgusting marks on her body swirled through her mind.
She hated herself for it.
She hated everyone who played a role in bringing her to this point.
Everyone who had a hand in turning the hopeful little soul she had been into the unoptimistic female she was today.
Somewhere deep in her she knew it was wrong to think about herself that way, but she didn't care. Her father and the other men's laughs were too loud for her to hear the rational thoughts.
This was the sole reason why she never looked at herself when she changed. It bought back those dark memories and thoughts. But today she couldn't help it.
She was getting ready to go to the dinner with the inner circle when she had peeked at herself, and now she couldn't stop thinking of how disgusting her body was.
She knew if someone came in from the door, they would have an unobstructed view of the map of horror on her back. But she couldn't bring herself to care at the moment.
While she was busy thinking of these things, she didn't hear the soft footfalls nearing her room. She didn't hear them until it was too late.
A knock sounded before her husband poked his head in, the smile on his face disappearing as she pulled the shirt back over her head. She gave him a shaky smile as she watched a muscle feather in her jaw.
"Az– Azriel. Did you need something?"
He didn't reply, entering the room fully, the door clicking shut behind him. He prowled closer, ignoring her questions and attempts at distraction. When he was close enough, he traced lines on her now clothed back, exactly where some of those scars were.
His eyes slowly lifted to meet hers in the mirror, his voice quiet and deadly as he spoke. "May I?" His hands brushed the hem of her shirt. She wanted to say no, but she nodded.
He slowly and gently lifted her shirt as she clutched the front of it so she didn't get completely naked in front of him. His eyes traced the marks on her back with a fierceness that would've sent people running.
"Who did this to you?" His voice sent shivers down her spine.
"My– my father and a few other men."
He met her eyes again, his eyes flashing before glancing down at her abdomen which had gotten exposed. He stepped closer, curling his arm around her around her to reach the scars. His face was murderous, but his hands were gentle. So gentle her knees nearly buckled.
He traced those scars, completely silent. The air was filled with tension as she watched his every move, her eyes prickling.
His eyes slowly lifted to hers again, his voice lower and more dangerous as he spoke. "Anywhere else?"
She knew he was asking if she had more scars. Which she did, so after a moment of consideration, she unclasped the few of the clasps at the top of the shirt and pulled the flaps aside.
A startled gasp full of horror left him as his eyes flew wide.
There, on her chest right above where her heart should be, was a nasty scar.
"How did you survive that!?" He questioned, his voice wobbling.
She smiled. "He wouldn't have let me die that easily." She turned to him. "Before the bargain between us was made, he wasn't that bad. Then he slowly started ignoring us. Mother wasn't talking to him, spending most of her days with me. But then, so deep in despair she was, she stopped taking care of herself. And that was the start of her slow and sure demise." She took a deep breath, tears gathering in her eyes.
"After she died, he only got worse. He started yelling at us, and then hitting us. It soon turned to whipping us." She searched Azriel's face before continuing. "After you left, the Camp Lord kicked us out of the camp, not wanting to share the power when he was no longer getting something out of it. We stayed nearby for a few years before father somehow convinced him to let us back into the camp.
"Later on, we found out that he had made a bargain that he would let the males in the camp beat us for their own sick pleasure. He–"
"What?" He had gone rigid.
She swallowed. "They started an event. It took place every year. The men who wanted to feel like they were great warriors would come and fight with the women, who had no experience. Seeing their opponent, especially a female, beaten and bruised, gave then satisfaction. Some of those scars are the result of this event. But it was stopped the moment Rhysand became High Lord.
"One day, father got so frustrated for something that I can't recall right now, and conveniently, I was nearby. He got a blunt knife that he was about to sharpen, ant stuck it in my chest. It hurt." A tear escaped her eye as she recalled the pain. "And becuase it was blunt, it took more force for it to pierce skin. When he was done and I was nearly dead, he got a healer to get me healed."
At this point, tears were streaming down her cheeks. He pulled her to his chest, his lips ghosting over her temple. He murmured things in her ear, but she couldn't make anything out over the sound of her sobs and her heart beating in her chest as she clutched onto Azriel as if he was the only thing keeping her alive.
He didn't complain, holding her back just as fiercely.
Sometime later, she decided to get dressed. So she pulled away and walked into the adjoining bathroom. When she came back out, Azriel smiled at her.
"I'll drop you off at the house. I have an important thing to do."
She nodded, despite wanting to ask him to not go.
Soon, she was sitting with the inner circle in the sitting room of the River House, glancing out the window continuously, hoping he came back soon.
•○🌑○•
It was somewhere near midnight when Azriel returned, smiling at her. She smiled back, a blush already creeping up her face. He sat next to her. He smelled and looked like he just taken a bath, his hair damp.
Almost an hour later, the High Lord left the sitting room, saying someone had brought some reports for him. Azriel watched him go, his jaw clenching. But when he found Y/n looking at him, he smiled again, relaxing.
It wasn't long before Rhysand burst back in, fuming. He walked straight to Azriel, who was already standing.
"What is this Azriel?" Rhysand waved some papers in front of her husbands face. Confused, everybody sat straighter, somber.
Unease started swirling in Y/n's stomach. If the High Lord was so mad, it must be something important.
Azriel glanced at the High Lord's hand before back at him, speaking calmly. "Those are papers Rhys. More specifically, they look like reports."
Rhysand looked on the verge of murdering someone. Y/n stood. "Tell me why, tell me fucking why, an Illyrian camp was burned to the ground. That too exactly while you were absent."
Her heart stopped as she stared at Azriel, his face void of any emotion or remorse. If anything, he looked proud.
What in the name of the cauldron did he do?
•○🌑○•
Taglist: @bubybubsters @maxxieluvs @bubbbllee @buckyandgeraltsupremacy @waytoomanyteenagefeels @tell-me-a-poem @the-lake-is-calling @spaxxxi @japanese-wonderland-blog @valeridarkness @moonlwghts @deadratio @esposadomd @harrystylesfan2686 @missusbarnes-rogers @whatthefuckshappeningrn @hyacinthoideshispanica @historygeekqueen @lizziesfirstwife @nastynesta @aroseinvelaris @nightless @cleverzonkwombatsludge @kodokunarisu-blog @selillusion @eos-princess @moonfawnx @a-court-of-milkandhoney @emilyo-218 @wannabewolf @ailyr92 @chronically-online-cheese @myheartfollower @hells-sluttiest-new-arrival @marina468 @menaosama @starryhiraeth @hereticdance @mali22 @valencia-rou @azrielsstarlight @marvelouslovely-barnes @luvmoo @starlight-hope @a-frog-with-a-laptop @fall-myriad @alt-ghost @elleofdragons @ruleroftides @5moremin @stargirl1714 @bunnymallowo @ivy-34
Part 10
#acotar#azriel x reader#azriel acotar#azriel spymaster#azriel shadowsinger#shadowsinger x reader#Acotar fanfic#rhysand#mating bond#a court of thorns and roses#azriel fluff#acotar fandom#acotar series#Shadowsinger#spymaster#fluff#azriel fic#azriel fanfic#sarah j maas#acotar headcanon#acotar smut#Acotar writing#acotar fluff#acotar x reader#reader insert#forced marriage#tw forced marriage
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Happy Pride!!!! Living Blood or Lady Mo please!
a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43
Xuanyu disrobes unashamedly, hesitating only at the last second with the sleeve covering her left arm.
Jiang Yanli laughs. “Bit late to be modest, I think.”
“Modesty is overrated,” she returns, which is something that Zixuan would say and A-Yao would think. She slips the rest of the robes off and steps into the steaming bath, letting out a deep sigh of satisfaction.
The changes her body has undergone are even more obvious without the thick layers of the robes obscuring her form. The extra weight seems to have settled in ideal places, not only thickening her waist and limbs but settling heavily along her hips and breasts, which hadn’t exactly been small to begin with.
She sits behind Xuanyu, filling a bowl with water and then pouring it over her hair to rinse it of blood and dirt that had been hidden by her dark hair. Acting as a bathing assistant is far below her station, but Xuanyu had sent all the servants away and she doesn’t mind, really. Xuanyu is her sister, likely the only one she’ll ever have considering A-Cheng’s track record with matchmakers, and she’s been worried about her. This gives them time to speak alone. “How has your marriage with Lan Wangji been? Has he been kind?”
Xuanyu pulls a face, which isn’t encouraging. “I guess. He mostly left me alone, and then we had a couple fights and he was a jerk, and now I think he’s trying to make up for being a jerk, but it’s a little – well, it’s nice that he’s making an effort. I suppose.”
Not as good as she’d hoped, but not as bad as she’d feared. “Sect Leader Lan seems fond of you.”
“Oh, Lan Xichen is great,” she says easily. Better than reaction to Lan Wangji, but still not what Jiang Yanli had been hoping for. Then her eyes light up. “Sizhui is wonderful! I’ll give Wangji one thing, he’s raised a good kid. He’s so sweet, and a great cultivator, and he’s always trying to help out everyone around him. I’m glad Jingyi’s always hanging around – without him, I think everyone would just take advantage of Sizhui’s good nature.”
Well, that’s something. Surely Lan Wangji can’t resist Xuanyu’s charms for long, not when she dotes on his son and gets along with his brother.
“What trouble did you get into on the road?” she asks, running her hand over the wound on Xuanyu’s shoulder. It looks nearly fully healed already and there’s another mostly healed wound on her hip, a thin slice on her left arm, and the shadow of various bruises that were likely much worse a couple hours ago. It’s of course a good thing that Xuanyu has a strong golden core, but Jiang Yanli can’t help a moment of wistfulness.
Her own core never lived up to her mother’s expectations, or her own. If she’d had a stronger core, she could have given A-Ling siblings. A child should have siblings. She would have had a calmer childhood without two little brothers underfoot, but a lonelier one too.
Xuanyu shrugs, lazily scrubbing herself down. “Looks like Xiao Xingchen picked up the girl, A-Qing, while he and Song Lan were separated and was trapped in this place that was basically a ghost town.” How could he be trapped by a place that had no people? “And I’d heard some rumors so when we ran into Song Lan I helped him find Xiao Xingchen, but there was a bit of a fight with someone who didn’t want him to leave. I just happened to get caught in the crossfire, so to speak.”
She’s stretching the truth to outright lying. Before Jiang Yanli can call her on it, her stomach growls.
“Didn’t get a chance to eat on the road?” she teases.
Xuanyu flushes, ducking briefly beneath the water to hide her flaming cheeks before resurfacing. “Things were a little hectic. It may have slipped my mind.”
How has she managed to put on weight while also forgetting to eat? Perhaps Lan Wangji deserves more credit.
“I think I have some candies in my room, if you want something before the banquet,” she offers. “I know the speeches take forever.”
Her eyes light up before dimming and she slumps in the bath. “Thanks, Yanli-jie, but I better not. Sizhui gave me some on the road and I usually love them but just putting it in my mouth almost made me sick. It was awful. And weird! They’re my favorite.”
Jiang Yanli blinks then gives Xuanyu’s significantly larger chest a considering look. It could be nothing. It’s probably nothing. She hasn’t even been married a year and it doesn’t sound as if she and Lan Wangji have been seeing eye to eye.
Then again, the same could have been said about her and Zixuan.
“Can I ask you something personal, Meimei?”
Xuanyu nods. “You can ask me anything, Yanli-jie.”
“Are you and Lan Wangji having sex?”
She turns bright red and ducks beneath the water for so long that Jiang Yanli is starting to get concerned before she resurfaces, still red faced. “Um. We did once. Well – I guess, technically, it was three times, but it was only one night.”
Well. Apparently Lan Wangji has stamina on and off the battlefield.
“One moment,” she says, briefly squeezing Xuanyu’s shoulder. “I’ll be right back.”
It takes one whispered conversation with the servant outside the hall and approximately ninety seconds before her personal healer is standing in front of her. Jiang Yanli ducks back inside to see Xuanyu out of the bath, in a thin bathing robe that’s clinging to her as she wrings her hair out. “I’d like my healer to take a look at you, Meimei.”
Xuanyu freezes, slowly standing straight with a wary look on her face. “That’s really not necessary. The wounds were just superficial and they’re basically healed already.”
“It’ll be quick,” she says, because if she’s right then she can’t let Xuanyu go down to the banquet without letting her know. “She’s very discreet – she’s been my personal healer since I was a child.”
“Jiang Xingyi?” Xuanyu asks, some of her tension draining away.
Jiang Yanli nods, trying to think of some reason that Xuanyu would know her healer’s name, or her reputation, but all the servants are terrible gossips and her health is a frequent topic of derision. “Just your wrist, okay? Your golden core has changed a lot. I just want her to take a look.”
She feels bad about lying, but Xuanyu had lied to her first.
Xuanyu relaxes even further. “Okay, Yanli-jie. If it’ll make you feel better.”
“Thank you,” she smiles, then opens the door to usher Jiang Xingyi in.
The old woman doesn’t smile, but Xuanyu grins back undeterred, and says, “Hi, Granny,” before paling and adding, “uh, um. Sorry.”
Jiang Yanli feels a familiar pang of grief go through her. A-Xian had referred to Jiang Xingyi as Granny, the only disciple both bold and beloved enough to get away with it.
Jiang Xingyi ignores her, instead reaching for her wrist and pressing her fingers against it. Xuanyu fidgets, shifting from one foot to the other, but says nothing as the moments stack on top of one another.
Finally, Jiang Xingyi drops her wrist and steps back. Her stern visage breaks, a smile stretching her mouth across her face. “Congratulations, Madame Lan.”
She knew it!
“Thanks,” Xuanyu answers before wrinkling her nose. “Um. For what?”
“You are expecting,” she answers. “At least a couple months along, I believe, although I’d have to do a more thorough examination to be sure.”
Jiang Yanli moves to embrace her, but Xuanyu’s face drops and she turns dangerously pale. “What? No. That’s not possible. I can’t be.”
“Three times,” Jiang Yanli reminds her, trying to goad Xuanyu into laughter.
But instead she just shakes her head. “No, no I can’t, I – this can’t be happening,” she whispers to herself, grabbing her own arms in a white knuckled grip. “It’s not. It’s impossible. I can’t be.”
She’s young, and this wasn’t a marriage of her own choosing, and it’s so new. Of course she’s surprised and nervous. Jiang Yanli touches her elbow, intending to say something soothing, but Xuanyu collapses into her arms, gripping her waist and hiding her tears in her shoulder.
“Xuanyu!” she says, hugging her back just as fiercely, her heart breaking for the younger girl’s anguish. “Meimei, it’s okay, I know this is scary, but it’s going to be fine.”
“It’s not,” she says, voice thick with tears, “A-jie, this is awful, this is – it can’t happen! It can’t, Wangji is going to be so mad, he’s going to hate me, and everything is ruined and awful, I can’t be – I can’t! I’m going to die!”
Jiang Yanli’s whole body goes cold and she grips Xuanyu even tighter against her. “You’re going to be fine,” she says, pushing her conviction into every syllable.
No matter what Jiang Yanli has to do, Xuanyu is going to be fine.
#oh wwx#our babygirl is going through it#dw everything is going to be fine#wwx is like i'm going to die before i can have this baby and kill lan zhan's baby and he's going to hate me forever#and jyl who obviously has no context for this hears that xuanyu thinks that lwj is going to kill her#which she'd think that lwj would never do but also she saw him during war and she's not the one married to him#and everyone knows he didn't want this marriage and also made a big thing about how sizhui's position won't be usurped#jyl to herself: do i have to kill lan wangji?#prompt answers#prompts are closed#asks#anon#untamed
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Is it Casual now? . CC
pairing: caitlin clark x reader
synopsis: you thought you and caitlin were endgame, but now things are starting to feel a bit different
A/N: will be shifting the “ending” of the song so that we can all enjoy a happy ending lol
My friends call me a loser
'Cause I'm still hanging around
“YN come on we’ve had these plans set for weeks now” your roommate complained from her spot on your couch.
life had been so hectic recently and you barely had anytime to hang out with your girls. so when you heard caitlin was going to be out of town for the week and you had work off, you thought to set plans with your roommates to have a movie night and dinner at your place.
“seriously, you’re just gonna ditch us off?” another one of your roommates chimed, slightly irritated. you were scrambling around your apartment, throwing things into your overnight bag for when you arrived at caitlin’s place. “caitlin shoots you one quick text that she’s back in town earlier than expected and you’re immediately at her beck and call?”
you rolled your eyes. you knew what they thought of caitlin, that she was a player and only wanted you for one thing. but to you, it felt different, like she genuinely wanted you there at her side
I've heard so many rumors
That I'm just a girl that you bang on your couch
“she just wants you for a quick fuck, YN”
you’ve heard it all before. and you were very aware of how bad it looked from the outside. caitlin would only reach out late at night, never took you out, never bought you gifts, or offered to come over to your place. no wonder everyone thought you were just a booty call, every possible flag was blazing red.
and you often had your fair share of skepticism when caitlin called you up at 2 am with a “sorry i hadn’t called all week, you down to come over?”. but you always felt so worshipped when you were with her, completely blinded by the attention and false promises.
I thought you thought of me better
Someone you couldn't lose
she fucking stood you up. again.
you were sat at a bar, swirling the contents of your lip stick stained class. the classy black dress you wore suddenly felt suffocating and your eyes welled with tears. you couldn’t stop staring at the blaring 9:30 on your phone, thinking back to your conversation with cait the night before.
cait <3 : yea baby i can do 8:30, how does that bar down town sound?
you : that sounds really nice, see you then :)
it was your fault really, you kept hoping she would change. that maybe one of these dates would actually mean something to her, but after sitting in a bar alone waiting for an hour for her arrival, you were starting to lose your optimism.
sick of waiting, you paid your tab and left, not even thinking of texting caitlin back.
You said, "We're not together"
So now when we kiss, I have anger issues
“i missed you last weekend, cait” you muttered, pushing her face away from the crook of your neck, letting your head fall back against the pillow.
she had sent yet another text to you a few hours ago, asking if she could makeup for standing you up. of course, you gave in immediately.
she had sweet talked you so nicely when you arrived at her apartment. whispering in your ear, leaving trails of kisses down you neck and abdomen, taking your clothes off so gently. but the thought of her possibly abandoning you again lingered in the back of your mind.
“i know, i already said im sorry,” she attempted to seduce you with a kiss to the cheek “am i not showing it well enough?” now a kiss to the jawline.
she knew what she was doing, trying to act all innocent with flattery and kisses. if you weren’t so sick of the back and forth between the two of you, you would have let it convince you.
“cait, please. i want to talk about this”
“what is there to talk about?” her voice, once inviting was now laced with anger and irritation.
“don’t get defensive with me” you sat up, pushing her off your vulnerable body “i’m just trying to tell you that what you’re doing is hurting my feelings”
she looked at you expressionless, fingers rubbing at her temples.
“i want to spend time with you and it hurts when you ignore me and stand me up and-”
“yea, well we’re not together so…” she cut you off sharply.
it felt like a punch to the gut, hearing her say that. yea it was true, you weren’t together, but you don’t just act like the person you’re fucking isn’t worth anything to you.
“wow” you didn’t even know what to say. your eyes stung and you chest heaved with humiliation. did she truly think this wasn’t “together”?
You said, "Baby, no attachment"
“YN i really don’t know what you want me to say…i thought we both agreed that this was a casual thing?” she tried to tell you as you angrily picked up your discarded clothes from her bedroom floor.
“i don’t care what we SAID, caitlin” you stopped, buttoning up your shirt, looking her in the eyes “it’s what we keep DOING.”
“what are you talking about?”
“i know we said this was just a casual thing, but- but things started to change. we…ugh i don’t even know how to say it, but it just feels so different when we’re together. more than a casual hookup.”
she’s looking at you confused, pleading for an explanation.
“like when we hooked up that time after Iowa’s big game, you were knee deep in the passenger seat and eating me out? is that casual?”
she scoffed and rolled her eyes, but you egged on.
“or when your mom invited me to her house on Long Beach last summer? what about that, is that causal now?” your face felt hot as you raised your voice to her. you had surprised your self with these accusations.
“I hate that I let this drag on so long, caitlin, and now I hate myself”
all she did was stare, studying the features of your face. every crinkle in your nose, the way your lips quivered with anger, and every twitch of your right eyebrow was now forever embedded in her mind. she knew you were right, deep down, knew that she had fucked up so bad and that you only hated yourself because of her. she knew that her inability to commit had caused you pain and her avoidance issues had gotten out of hand.
“i’m sorry” she admitted, “i’m so fucking sorry that it hurts”
“caitlin, why? am i truly just a quick fuck to you?”
your question nearly knocked the wind out of her. she stood off the bed and meandered over to where you stood at the door, your pants still undone and your items thrown haphazardly into your overnight bag.
“no,” she breathed “you’re so much more than that”
it’s like you couldn’t speak, unable to do much else other than stare at her quizzically.
“i know i’ve treated you like shit. that i’ve fucked up far beyond fixing”
“so why don’t you show it? why sit here and tell me that it’s ok to ignore me and stand me up because we’re just ‘not together’? i don’t get it cait”
her hands ran over her face in frustration, she hated the confrontation. having to tell you all of this was sending her into a spiral. things were fine before tonight, she was able to do want she wanted and ignore all her feelings. and it all came crashing down the second she had gotten you into her bed, instantly faced with reality. tonight was it. she needed to be honest with you.
“i didn’t think i could love someone as much as i love you” she blurted out, which was followed by a deafening scoff from you.
“i’m serious,” she retorted “obviously i haven’t shown that, i’ve done nothing but be cruel to you. but the moment i met you, i knew you would have some sort of hold on me. and it scared me, YN”
you tried to interrupt, to take another stab at her childish behavior, but she kept going.
“i was so scared that i’d lose you, that you’d see through me and all my issues and eventually realize that i’m not worth having a real relationship with. so i tried to keep my distance from you, tried not to see you so it didn’t absolutely tear my heart apart, but i couldn’t help myself. i needed to have you, just a little bit, so i what it felt like to be loved by you. i just couldn’t risk ruining you, taking away a genuine life that you truly deserve all because i’m fucked up and avoid everything. and hooking up with you, to be completely transparent, has only made it worse because…because now i’ve seen what i actually lost”
“you,” there weren’t any words to express how you felt right now “you don’t need to avoid me, cait, you won’t ruin me. i know what i want in a relationship. it’s you, i want you”
“i’m just scared you’ll finally see past this whole thing and see that you don’t actually want me like that”
“i know you. i know that past this,” you waved your hands, gesturing between the two of you “there’s a different caitlin clark. one who doesn’t undermine herself and recognizes that she’s deserves real love just like how i deserve it. one that can address her commitment issues before they get out of hand like this did. one that won’t stand me up, that won’t shoot me down because she has ‘practice’. i know that the real you is perfectly capable of change.”
“i’m scared.” was all she managed “but i want to do better for you, i don’t think i can be without you, please let me fix this”
it came out as a desperate whisper, almost incomprehensible, but you heard her loud and clear.
“it’s going to take some time…but i’m willing to work on this.”
“i swear to god, YN, i’m going to be so much better. i’m done with the hookups and the late night texts. i just want you. all of you”
your hand found her cheek, pulling her towards you gently to place an intimate kiss on her lips.
“i believe you”
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I Work Too Hard, Can You Fuckin' Pay Me?
Part 9 - Y/N moved to escape some of thier looming troubles from Westview, to the place that their best friend said would make a difference. New job, new digs, will Y/N make a change for the better, or leave another city with their tail between their legs?
A/N: Struggle bus is in town, and decided to make a stop on this one. Here y'all go.
TW: Angst, Intersex reader, reader has some... not so great coping habits, sexual tension, smut
Word Count: 1.7K
Read Pt. 1 HERE Read Pt. 2 HERE Read Pt. 3 HERE Read Pt. 4 HERE Read Pt. 5 HERE Read Pt. 6 HERE Read Pt. 7 HERE Read Pt. 8 HERE
Just Tell It Straight To Me
You awoke to the sound of the rain pattering against the window, the early morning light casting a soft glow across the room. Wanda was still nestled against you, her warmth seeping into your skin. You couldn't remember the last time you felt this content, this... whole. You brushed a lock of hair from her face, marveling at the way she looked in the soft light. Her breathing was even and peaceful, a stark contrast to the turmoil you had felt just hours before.
For a moment, you just watched her sleep, feeling the steady beat of her heart beneath your palm. It was a feeling that was both foreign and familiar, like slipping into a warm bath after a long, cold day. The rain outside seemed to be whispering a gentle melody, echoing the rhythm of your own heart. You didn't want to move, didn't want to break the spell that had been cast over you both.
But eventually, the call of the day grew too strong, and you gently extricated yourself from her embrace, sliding out of bed. You pulled on a t-shirt and pants, the fabric brushing against your still-sensitive skin. The house was quiet, and you padded softly down the hallway, not wanting to disturb her. In the kitchen, you start a pot of coffee, the aroma filling the air. The mundane task felt almost sacred, like a promise of a new beginning.
As you waited for the coffee to brew, your mind drifted back to the night before. The way she had looked at you, the way she had touched you, the way she had whispered reassurances into your ear—it was all still so vivid, so real. You felt a swell of emotion, a mix of happiness and fear. Could you do this? Could you let someone in again? The question lingered in the air, unspoken but ever-present.
When the coffee was ready, you poured two mugs, adding a splash of cream to hers just the way you had observed before. You carried them back to the bedroom, the warmth of the mug a comforting weight in your hand. She stirred as you approached the bed, her eyes opening slowly to meet yours. The smile that spread across her face was like the sun rising over the horizon, chasing away the shadows of doubt.
You handed her the mug, and she took it with a murmur of thanks. The warmth of the liquid seemed to meld with the warmth in her eyes as she took a sip. You sat on the edge of the bed, sipping your coffee, watching the way the rain painted patterns on the window. It was a silent moment of understanding, a quiet acknowledgment of the shift that had occurred between you.
"Thank you," she said finally, her voice still thick with sleep. "For last night."
You took her hand in yours, lacing your fingers through hers. "Thank you for... everything," you replied, your voice equally soft. You chuckled at the memory of last night. "So much for taking it slow."
Wanda sat up, her eyes never leaving yours. "We'll take it as slow as we're comfortable," she promised, her thumb tracing circles on the back of your hand. "We'll face whatever comes together."
You nodded, feeling a weight lift from your chest. "Together," you echoed, the word feeling more right than it ever had before. You knew it wouldn't be easy that there would be challenges and moments of doubt. But with Wanda by your side, you felt ready to face them all.
The rain continued to fall, but it no longer felt oppressive. Instead, it was a gentle reminder that the world outside was moving on, and so were you. You took another sip of coffee, feeling the warmth spread through you, a symbol of the warmth that had been kindled in your heart.
You leaned over, pressing a soft kiss to her lips, feeling the promise of the future in that simple gesture. The fear was still there, lurking in the shadows, but it was no longer in control. With Wanda, you had found someone who understood the complexities of your soul, someone who didn't shy away from the messiness of your past.
The rain grew heavier, the sound of it a comforting symphony that surrounded the room. You lay back down beside her, your legs entwined as you sipped your coffee. "What do we do now?" you asked, the question hanging in the air like the mist that clung to the windows.
Wanda took a deep breath, her eyes searching yours. "We take it one day at a time," she said, her voice strong and steady. "We communicate, we support each other, and we don't let fear dictate our decisions."
You nodded, feeling the truth of her words resonate within you. The rain grew louder, a soothing lullaby that seemed to whisper of new beginnings. You set your mug on the nightstand and pulled her closer, feeling the warmth of her body against yours. "I like the sound of that," you murmured.
Her hand found yours, her fingers interlacing with yours. "We'll figure it out," she said, her voice filled with determination. "We're in this together."
The day stretched before you, filled with the promise of rain-soaked walks and lazy Saturday afternoon movies. You knew that outside the walls of Wanda's house, the world was waiting, full of challenges and uncertainties. But in that moment, you didn't care. You had Wanda, and she had you.
You lay there, the rain a soothing backdrop to your quiet conversation, sharing stories and dreams, your hearts beating in sync. The storm outside mirrored the tumult you had weathered within, but here, in the sanctuary of her arms, you felt at peace.
As the rain began to taper off, you both grew restless, the desire to explore the newness of your relationship overwhelming. Wanda leaned over and kissed you, her eyes shining with excitement. "Ready for round two?" she asked, her voice filled with mischief.
You grinned, feeling the heat of her kiss still lingering on your lips. "Always," you said, pulling her back down to you. The world outside could wait. For now, all that mattered was the warmth of her body against yours, the way her breath hitched when you kissed her just right. You tangled your hands in her hair, deepening the kiss, feeling her respond with an enthusiasm that matched your own.
Wanda's fingers trailed down your chest, her nails leaving a trail of fire in their wake. She pushed the t-shirt up, her eyes dark with lust as she took in your bare skin. You shivered, the anticipation making your cock twitch with need. You broke the kiss, looking into her eyes, searching for any sign of doubt. But all you saw was desire, a mirror of your own feelings.
With a growl, you rolled her onto her back, the mood shifting from tender to carnivorous. You kissed down her neck, feeling her pulse race beneath your lips. You nipped at her collarbone, her gasp of pleasure making your cock throb. You kissed across her chest, teasing her nipples before taking one into your mouth. She arched her back, her nails digging into the sheets as you suckled her, feeling her body respond to your every touch.
Her hands found the hem of your pants, pushing them down as you kissed your way down her stomach. You could feel the wetness between her legs, and your mouth watered at the thought of tasting her again. You spread her thighs wider, kissing the inside of her thighs before finally pressing your mouth to her pussy. She tasted even better than you remembered, and you felt your arousal spike as she moaned.
Wanda's legs wrapped around your head, her hips moving in time with your tongue. You licked and sucked, her cries growing louder with every stroke. You could feel her getting closer, the tension in her body tightening like a bowstring. And when she came, it was like a symphony, her body shaking with the force of it. You didn't stop, though, wanting to wring every ounce of pleasure from her.
Her orgasm subsided, leaving her panting and trembling. You kissed your way back up her body, feeling her soft skin against your own. Her eyes were hazy with satisfaction, but there was still a spark of hunger in them. You positioned yourself at her entrance, her eyes never leaving yours. And with one swift movement, you slammed into her, filling her completely.
Her nails dug into your back, her legs wrapping around you tightly as you began to move. The sound of your bodies slapping together filled the room, a rhythm as old as time. You felt the tension build again, her walls tightening around you as she neared her peak. You could feel yourself getting closer, too, the pleasure building to a crescendo.
You leaned down, capturing her mouth with yours as you felt the coil of your orgasm begin to unfurl. Her moans grew louder, her hips rising to meet yours, urging you on. And with one final, desperate thrust, you came, filling her completely. You collapsed on top of her, her body still spasming around you as you both rode out the waves of pleasure.
For a moment, there was only the sound of your panting breaths and the fading pattern of rain outside. You felt her heart beating rapidly against your chest, the thud of it matching your own. You rolled onto your side, pulling her with you so that she was nestled into the crook of your arm.
Her head rested on your chest, and you could feel her breathing slowing as she dozed off. You kissed the top of her head, feeling something inside you shift. This was it—the start of something new, something that could either burn with the
You lay there, stroking her hair gently, feeling the rise and fall of her chest against yours. The rain had stopped, leaving the world outside quiet and still. It was as if the universe had held its breath, waiting for this moment. The weight of your decision, of what you had done, felt heavier than it ever had before. But there was no regret, only a strange mix of excitement and anxiety that filled every fiber of your being.
#communicatethrulyrics#wlw fanfic#lesbian nsft#wanda x reader#wanda maximoff fanfiction#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff smut#wanda maximoff x female reader#wanda maximoff x you#wanda maximoff fluff
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— Daybreak
genre : tags. fluff, summer romance, small town romance, angst (?), found family (?)
pairing. barista!sungho x fem!reader (she/her used)
wordcount. 3714
a/n. submission for the onedoornet summer event. i love writing stories set in the summer tbh most of my stuff is set in summer lol. this is heavily inspired by summerstrike, favorite k drama !! ty to @ddingdongz + @loserlvrss for helping beta reading this.
@onedoornet
Picture this. An empty room, your empty room, with you in the middle of it taking in the nothingness of it all. You tried to see it a different way, but that was all it was, an empty room that would probably stay that way unless you chose to fill up the space. A thought that often crossed your mind but never got any further.
The summertime somehow made it worse for you, with no plans you were forced to stay 24 hours in that void. The hours you would have usually spent in the office performing remote tasks with radio noise thoughts, you now have to spend in complete consciousness. You would try to distract yourself, but it was always the same thing every day, the same dreams wasting away.
This was the only life you knew; you had a job and place to stay, you had to find contentment in what you had, but it was harder than that. Maybe you had to seek out new perspectives to understand how to live again.
Run away and leave it all behind, the first step would always be the hardest but once it was done, it would be up to you. Small drops make a mighty ocean, right?
One day was all you needed, you would take the first bus in the morning to wherever it leads you and then… you would just try to live for once. Forget that your room is empty and that your dreams aren’t as easy to achieve so you could have a clear mind for the future.
No matter how much you planned, you would never know what exactly you would meet there so you kept the planning minimal, trusting fate to make the day memorable.
At 4 am, you were ready at the bus stop waiting with three other people in complete silence, half asleep as you stood there. The bus arrived soon enough, and you let yourself doze off by the tinted windows, counting the cars passing by.
8 am and you were finally there, you weren’t entirely sure where “there” was, but you were somewhere else and that felt like an achievement in itself. The sky was already well lit up, clear and blue. Everything seemed so new, so different even the sky looked a different shade of blue. The seagulls cried loudly echoing back and forth as you walked along the roadside, the ocean filled the horizon swaying along with the wind, crashing against the sandy beach.
You made up your mind to stay on the beach for a while, long enough for hunger to settle in, and you would figure out your next stop from there. You had been used to seeing crowded beaches so much in your life that you had forgotten how beautiful the ocean was, how calming the beach could be. The fresh smell of sea-life, calm breeze rushing through your hair as you sat there on the sand watching the push and pull.
You thought of taking a commemorative photo, but you had the funny idea to “forget” your phone this morning. You had this useless attachment to it, even when you were doing nothing productive on it. So, you figured it wouldn’t be necessary, and maybe you were right, but you wanted to keep this image safe from the inaccuracy of memories.
It was just as you dreamt it, the quiet, the peace, you could sit there for ages, let the sand envelop you and become a timeless myth, an artifact forever tied to the spot, but you had other plans.
Checking the watch around your wrist, you read the time, 9:43 am. A good time for breakfast. The problem now was finding where to eat breakfast, but you needed to not know so you could want to find out. So, you walked around, letting your feet lead you wherever, through all sorts of streets looking around for any kind of food.
It felt like a long search, but you had walked for less than 30 minutes before you found a nice cafe, deeper into the town, further from the beach but it held the essence of the ocean, encapsulated in all sorts of trinkets decorating the space.
A chiming ring echoed across the room as you stepped in, not a single person in sight for the first few minutes. It seemed empty despite the sign on the door that read “open”, so decided to move on. Almost like he heard your footsteps, ready to walk out the door, a tall young man came out from the back, tying his hair together and out of his face as he smiled at you.
“Welcome, please make yourself comfortable, I’ll be right with you.” You took a couple steps closer, completely hypnotized by the young man’s beauty, taking a seat right by the counter.
He somehow looked the part, exactly how one would imagine a barista in a small town in the middle of nowhere, precisely out of a daydream.
He handed you a menu before retreating back to the kitchen in the back. You scanned through meticulously, picking enough food to keep you filled for the rest of the day.
He came back out to meet you, this time with a name tag on, Sungho you thought as he asked you for your order.
“Long trip?” He smiled at the small list you had picked out from the menu, you nodded in response with a thin smile trying to ignore the urge you felt to stare at him.
“It might take a few, I’m the only one in today.” you let him know you were in no rush, and just like that he left the room with a thumbs up and a smile.
It was a shorter wait than you’d expected considering it was just him in the kitchen. He’d started bringing over side dishes for you 10 minutes in, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows as he placed the plates in front of you. A few strands fell out of the grip of the hair tie falling perfectly on his face, he sighed, shaking the hair at his face before looking at you.
He thought about it for a second, leaning in as he spoke, “Sorry to ask this but could you push this strand behind my ear?” you stared at him wide eyed, blinking at his face right in front of yours.
You reach for the hair hesitantly, carefully pushing it behind his ear. He flashed a thankful grin, backing up completely and out of the room.
After nearly an hour you got your full meal, your first meal of the day, and probably your last, so you ate it like it was. Big portions, cheeks filled, satisfied groans. Completely forgetting the other presence in the room.
He was looking at you, watching you purse your lips as you chewed on the food, the moment you looked up you were met with his stare, your eyes widened from the sudden eye contact.
“Sorry,” he chuckles nervously looking away from you, “…Are you here on vacation?”
“Oh yeah, I’m just here for the day.” you answer finishing the last crumbs off your dish.
“What are you hoping to find here?” He asks curiously with an amused expression. The question sets you off into a whole explanation on your boring life and your strong will to see new things. You aren’t sure you will find what you were looking for here but that’s somehow part of the journey.
“…I guess I just want to see the world now, instead of locking myself inside.” you let out a light laugh, as if to lighten the mood after your slight rant.
“That’s really cool. I think you’ll like it here.”
“Really?” you beam, he lets out a light chuckle as he nods grabbing your empty plates to clear the space.
“Honestly. I could show you around a bit if you want.” he disappears into the kitchen as he suggests it. You sit there with a smile on your face waiting for him to enter the room again to accept his proposition.
“I’d love that, I didn’t really have a plan so you’d be helping me out a lot.”
“Perfect. I’ll just clear up this place and close up for the day.” you mouth a quiet oh, surprised he would close the whole shop to help you. He notices and smiles reassuring you, “Don’t worry it’s usually empty on Saturdays.”
After a short wait he steps out with a light linen summer shirt, his hair is untied, shaping his face perfectly. When you thought he couldn’t get more attractive he just embodies the idea of a summer crush. He gives you a gentle smile gesturing for you to follow him out the back door, you watch him lock the doors waiting closely behind.
This was one of those things you would have never done a month ago and standing there you realize how absurd the idea of following a man around in a place he knew so well while you knew nothing about was, but for some reason you felt you had nothing to lose in the moment. Maybe it’s ‘cause he’s incredibly attractive.
He introduces you to his bicycle, letting you know that that was his means of transport and so it would be yours. Biking seemed more appealing to you, it had been a while since you had been on a bike so when you hold onto him as he rides by the beach it feels like a lost memory that you had forgotten in the midst of all your working. You listen to the seagulls cry, feel the nice summer breeze on your face as the hot sun taps on your skin reflecting yellow beams onto the canvas.
Even his presence feels like a strongly cemented part of the memory, like he made it whole, you could feel him so close under the thin fabric of his shirt and it made you realize that the touch of a human was something you had been missing for the longest time.
“It’s really nice here.” You hum, resting the side of your face on his back.
“Yeah it feels like home.” He says with a smile looking over his shoulder to look at you.
“Isn’t it home for you?” He nods as he turns back to the road, turning into streets, waving to the townspeople, before answering you.
“I guess you’re right..” he let out a light chuckle, his bright smile lingering as he continues, “I actually moved here when I turned 18, I just needed to get away and I found myself here.”
“Wow, that's such a bold move.”
“Yeah it was so out of character for me but I needed to and it was probably the best decision I’ve made.” he slows down his peddling gradually before stopping in front of a big house. You had been riding uphill for a while and now you could see why.
The whole ocean right beneath you, you could see everything so clearly and it was so beautiful. You could feel your eyes glistening as you looked at the landscape with so much marvel. A sudden realization that life isn’t supposed to be dull, it’s meant to be filled with beauty and splendor.
“This is so…” you look around searching for a greater word to describe all that you are feeling but nothing comes close.
You only realize you are still on the bike once he gets up, taking your hand to help you off as well. He looks at you pleased, that you enjoy the sight as much as he did when he’d been here for the first time.
“Come, let me show you something.” You follow behind him eagerly, watching him ring the doorbell to the only house that stood on the hill.
The door opens soon enough and there stands an old lady with the kindest smile and soft rosy cheeks. You watch him give her a hug as he greets her, letting her place a kiss on his head.
“And this is your girlfriend.” Before either of you is able to deny the claims, she gives you a warm hug. Such a loving hug you don’t want it to end, the type of hug you needed daily.
“Such a lovely girl, what’s your name darling?” You give her a polite smile as you answer, letting her soft hands hold onto your for a little longer.
You glance up to find Sungho staring at the both of you with a soft smile, your eyes meet and he gives you an apologetic pout.
“Mamie,” she turns over to him still holding your hands, “I wanted to ask you a favor.” She rushes over to him.
He leans towards her and whispers a few words to her, making your curiosity grow, her smile grows as she listens to his request and as soon as he’s done she goes back into her house, leaving you there clueless.
You turn over to him, narrowing your eyes with curiosity, he flashes a smile before turning away, waiting for her to reappear.
“Here you go darling.” She walks up to you and hands you an ethereal conch shell. You had never seen one before but you never knew they could be so pretty. You stare at it for a couple seconds completely in awe, before looking up to her with a grateful smile.
She stretches her arms out once again for you, hugging her tightly as you thank her. “Sungho could use the company. He doesn’t like mentioning it but I know. So if you’re ever thinking of coming back, don’t hesitate, just come, okay?”
After saying your goodbyes, you get back on the bike, riding downhill back into town. Her words stay stuck on your mind as you ride through the small streets, a reminder that you would be leaving after today and you would have to accept that. Every part of you wanted to stay.
“Was she a relative of yours?” you ask looking over his shoulder, arms still wrapped around his waist and he peddles.
“Not biologically. When I first got here I was stranded but she took me in, and I stayed there on the hill for a while.” He explains as you arrive on a market street, a small crowd walking through the street, “This is where the fun happens, trust me.”
He parks his bike in a hidden spot, helping you off and ready to guide you through the small market. You glance up at him amused by the liveliness in the street, such a crowd in such a seemingly empty town.
A light tap on the back of your head makes you look down at your hand, you look up at him curiously. He takes your hand in his as you stare into his eyes with a puzzled look, pulling you closer, and leaning to your ear.
“It can get a bit rough so just stay close, okay?” You nod at him, letting him guide you through the small crowd.
As you walk together, he tells you about each stand and how the market works, how it changes depending on the month and the regular stands that people line up for. It could have been the least interesting topic but for some reason you were fascinated by the community, the dedication of each person to hold a stand as early as 7 in the morning.
“Do you hold a stand for your coffee shop sometimes?” He smiles at the question, nodding in response.
“Sometimes, but it’s mostly for festivals or big events. The market is more for the necessities and street foods.” Just as he mentioned it a savory smell hit your nose, you turn to the stand beside you watching the lady behind it cook the snack with extreme focus.
He notices you staring and stops in front of the spot, to let you taste the speciality. The lady looks up from her workspace and her expression brightens as she sees Sungho, and even more when she notices you.
“Sungho! Is this your girlfriend?” He shakes his head letting out an awkward laugh. “What are you waiting for?”
“She’s not from here.” She frowns for a second before glancing at you.
“Do you like the town?” She asks you, hands still working on the food making. You nod, answering her with a polite smile.
“She likes it here. You’re stalling.”
“How am I—“
“Here’s a snack young lady, take care of the boy for us, okay?” You laugh softly as you accept the treat, he reaches out for his wallet and the lady smacks his hand. “Keep it and start saving up for the ring.” She laughs a mocking laugh before going back to her work, leaving the both of you stunned.
Walking away neither of you speaks for a bit, just snickering as you walk side by side, “I’m sorry about that.” He says with a smile, you shake your head completely dismissing it, giggling as you did.
You walk around a bit more, eating your snacks together and looking at the different stands. Watching the owners show off their craft, getting interrogated by the townsfolk on your relationship. You enjoy every moment with him, even just walking in complete silence feels right and you just met him.
All your life you had been looking for this, you dreamt of being close to someone beyond the materialistic standards, of being with someone you could just be with and right now that was all you could feel. You hadn’t come to this place to find someone to help you out of your misery but you found someone and it was nice.
But it only makes you dread the moment when his comforting presence wouldn’t be so close. He stops by one of the stalls, and you follow. A jewelry stand, handmade crafts with sea life trinkets, pearls, shells, squid ink, it is all so unique. You watch him look at the pieces, scanning through the selection before landing his eyes on one.
He takes it from the display, a teardrop shaped pendant with sea water inside, dangling off a silver chain. He glances at you and then at the necklace, before asking to pay for it. After that he keeps it to himself, fidgeting with the paper bag it was in, waiting for the right moment to hand it to you.
The walk soon ends and you take the bike once again, this time he rides you down to the beach, almost as empty as in the morning. You sit together on the sand just as you did in the morning and for the first time since you saw him you check the time. 5:27 pm, the day is nearly over, but you’re still enjoying it.
“When will you be heading back? I’ll take you to the station.” He says quietly, eyes on the vast horizon.
“I’m not sure I was planning for 7:30 maybe?” He nods, registering the information. “When is the last bus?”
He turns to you, surprised by the question and somewhat relieved, that you didn’t want to leave so soon, “10pm, they don’t go too late here since nobody is really coming and going.”
Those 5 hours seem like nothing, you want to stay forever but it would be irresponsible, irrational, you had to go back. You sigh, it wouldn’t be responsible to tell him how much you enjoyed his company today, since you weren’t sure when you would be back but you could feel the words itching at your throat.
“I really liked spending time with you today, y/n.” He says, staring at the sand below you, voicing out your thoughts before you can.
“I did too, you really did make me like it here.”
“I’m glad.” He turns to you with a smile, it takes everything in you to not kiss him then and there. His hair flows in the wind, orange sun shining on his skin.
“I don’t want to leave.” The words slip out mindlessly, as you stare at him.
“Then don’t.” His stare shows more intent, all the begging he couldn’t do, his eyes reveal, “You came just like I did, with a backpack and now look at me, I’m running a coffee shop.”
You give him an apologetic smile, it was too much for you leaving a whole life behind. You could come back eventually, but right now you couldn’t stay.
“You can come work with me at the shop. The ladies in town are so welcoming, they’ll help you with everything.”
“Sungho… it’s not that easy.” He sighs, nodding as he turns back to the calm ocean view.
“I know… It was worth the try though.” He laughs softly, you smile, taking his hand in yours.
“I promise I will come back though.”
“I’ll be waiting.” You feel your heart bounce at the sound of those words, he makes you feel so special in everything he does.
You stay there on the beach till the sun sets, enjoying the last moments together without thinking of the looming separation that is awaiting you. Once you reach the bus station, it’s about 9:48 pm and time is still moving as much as you wish it would stop for you.
You look at him once more, one last time, he finally hands you the paper bag with the necklace he’d bought earlier. “A small souvenir, just for memories.”
You ask him to put it on for you and he does. Pushing your hair aside, standing so close behind you, you could feel his breath. He comes back to your view after hooking it, looking at you with a pleased smile. Such a small pendant, yet it elevates your beauty in so many ways.
The last call for the bus brings you both back to the moment. You both walked towards the bus the whole way in silence, waving each other goodbye as you entered the vehicle. You watch him out the window, as the bus starts he stands there looking at you. The words are inaudible but you can tell what he says as the bus drives off: “I’ll miss you y/n.”
#boynextdoor#bnd x reader#gs.files#boynextdoor fluff#onedoornet#boynextdoor fanfic#boynextdoor imagines#boynextdoor x reader#park sungho x reader#boynextdoor sungho#sungho boynextdoor
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Low honor John with prompt 5, 10 by ddarker dreams
like father like son hehe
9/13
-🧨
My jaw is on the FLOOR at these prompts because of what they imply, so let me do my best to make this not all that triggering. Do expect creep behavior and possibly beyond that.... I haven't seen much of RDR's Low Honor John, but I have heard how he speaks to women... so.... Here's John being an icky man. Please be VERY wary of trigger warnings. This is MEANT to be revolting. It's low honor John, after all.
Prompts Here
Yandere! Low Honor! John Marston Prompts 5 + 10
"I’ve denied myself long enough."
"Your body won’t lie to me."
Pairing: Romantic
Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Stalking, Creep behavior from John, Infidelity, Intimacy, Biting, Kissing, Forced "affection" implied (possible assault), Manipulation, Sexual themes but nothing happens graphically, Theft, Breaking and entering, John watches you sleep, Forced "relationship."
You are such a guilty pleasure.
Wedding vows mean nothing to a man without morals. Sure, John is a married man, one with a wife and son.... However, he's still almost drooling when it came to you.
Poor you had no idea you had attracted a man such as him.
You had "met" him when he was visiting your town. You were working with the general store, looking all cute in that outfit you always wore. He couldn't help but stare... giving you some "compliments" to see how you shy away from him.
It doesn't matter if you hate him... He wants a taste so bad.
You told him off each time he tried to be close. You called him sleazy, a creep. He doesn't deny such things... He's an outlaw, already scum.
Regardless of what you say, he's determined.
"You say that now, baby... but you'll be begging for me soon enough."
He was kicked out of the store, yet he's a persistent man.
John began to stick around after that last encounter. Often riding his horse into town just to hunt you down. Even at night he tracked you to your home, watching through your window as sick fantasies filled his mind.
God, He could feel warmth pooling in places it shouldn't.
John is Infatuated with you. Obsessed with the thought of you being his. You really know how to make a man question his wedding vows....
John couldn't help but get a little impatient. He'd spend hours away from home just to catch a glimpse of you. He always wrote to Abigail that he was hunting down members of the gang. In reality, he was watching you like a hawk from your window.
Sometimes John would try to court and woo you when you were out and about. He'd approach you, a crooked grin on his face as he speaks to you. His words are crude, his touches are inappropriate...
You even smell amazing to him.
You're adorable... He wants you so bad.
Due to his time with the Van Der Linde gang... John's a master at breaking and entering. He occasionally slips into your home to steal clothes or trinkets. Sometimes... He even just likes to watch you sleep.
John wants to make you his. He'd do anything to make you his. Including more unhinged acts... You just spark something primal within him.
He feels like a damn animal.
John can only watch you from a distance for so long. He's aware you simultaneously hate and fear him. Why wouldn't you? He's used to the wandering outlaw life.
But that won't stop him from making you his...
John loves a good challenge.
Poor you barely saw him coming. John was sure to memorize your routine, to know when you got home and when you went to sleep. John knew all sorts of things about you.
He's done all sorts of things to have you....
It was easy for him to slip into your home like usual. He either looked for a window or tried the door. Regardless... John quickly slips in, excitement coursing through him as he stalked through your home.
Poor you... just wanting to get ready for bed. Your back was turned, fidgeting with your sleepwear, only for John to lean against your doorframe. Even in your sleepwear... he's drooling.
"Hey there, sweetheart..." John purrs like a predator surveying prey. Even when you're startled you're adorable. "You look so cute tonight...."
"It's you...!" You gasp, heart frantically beating like a rabbit trapped by a wolf. John can't help but grin. He likes being the wolf...
He likes innocent little rabbits at his mercy....
"It is me..." John growls playfully. "Did you wear that thin little thing all for me? I knew you were interested in me, sweetie...."
"Get out of my house! You're deranged!" You plead, but such pleas fall on deaf ears as John stalks closer. Why would that stop him?
He's killed men he didn't like....
"I’ve denied myself long enough." John grumbles, yet his tone is excited. "You know how long I've been watching you? Having to use clothes to get by? I can barely stay loyal to my own wife... Not with you being all cute and coy...."
John sees you trying to duck behind him, but the outlaw is much more experienced. He wraps his arms around your torso, shoving you backwards roughly. You're pinned to the wall of your home quickly, his grip tight as his lips ghost against your neck. He can't help but press flush against you... carefully tasting your skin like he's a starving man.
"You say you hate me, call me disgusting... I've been called worse...." John mutters, eyes glancing up at you with desire. "I know you don't really hate me... Nah... You know we're meant to be, right?"
John kisses your neck, nipping at the skin with a groan. You feel revolted at his behavior, pushing against him. In response, John merely pins your hands to the wall as he nips your collarbone.
You freeze when he places a leg over you, caging you against his muscled frame.
"Sure, tell me you hate me. Tell me I'm horrible. Tell me you're not mine...." John murmurs against your flesh, using another hand to gently touch your skin. "But I know one thing for sure..."
John grins, a sadistic gleam in his eyes as he pulls you tighter against him, just to hear your whimper.
"Your body won’t lie to me." John chuckles, sighing softly. "You'll know you're mine... especially by the end of tonight, Darling... but don't worry... I'll be gentle."
John then cups your face, breath hot on your face as you tremble.
"Now... let me show you where you belong, Darling...." John coos, touch becoming a little less rough as he scoops you into his arms.
Tonight, John will finally get what he wants, you'll be all his tonight...
You'll be all his EVERY night... Forever.
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our place | trent alexander-arnold
pairing: trent alexander-arnold x reader summary: just a peaceful drive along the coast, enjoying each other's company author's note: as I always say... english is not my first language so sorry me if there are mistakes —feel free to tell me— and my requests are open!👀
The car hummed steadily along the coast, the sky a soft wash of pinks and oranges as the sun set in the distance. Trent’s hand rested casually on the gear shift, the other holding mine. We weren’t saying much—just enjoying the simplicity of being together. The wind blew through the open windows, filling the car with the salty sea air, and I couldn’t help but smile at how peaceful it all felt.
“You’re quiet,” Trent said, glancing over at me with a teasing smirk. “Planning your next move in case I make you drive?”
I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped. “If you’re expecting me to take the wheel, you’re dreaming. I know my strengths and driving isn’t one of them.”
Trent chuckled, giving my hand a small squeeze. “You’re just scared because you know I’ll be an annoying teacher.”
“You? Annoying? Never,” I replied sarcastically, though my grin gave me away.
He glanced over, a playful glint in his eyes. “You think I’m kidding, but one day I’ll get you behind the wheel. Mark my words.”
The drive continued in comfortable silence, the kind of silence that only came after spending years together. We didn’t need to fill every moment with words, and sometimes, that’s what I loved most about us—how easy it was. How natural.
I remember the first time we met, on that cold, rainy afternoon in London. I had just moved into the city, lost and carrying boxes up a flight of stairs that seemed never-ending. Trent had appeared out of nowhere, offering to help, his lopsided grin catching me off guard. He was polite, too polite even, and his easy charm was disarming. I didn’t realize until hours later that he was that Trent Alexander-Arnold—the rising star of English football. But at that moment, he was just a boy who helped a stranger carry boxes in the rain.
“You look like you could use some help,” he had said, his voice warm despite the rain pouring down around us.
I had laughed, wiping the raindrops from my face. “Is it that obvious?”
He had grinned, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “A little. Let me take that for you.”
“Thanks for the help,” I had said, extending my hand. “I’m—”
“Exhausted?” he had joked, cutting me off. “I can tell.”
I had laughed again, feeling an instant connection. “Yeah, pretty much.”
“I’m Trent, by the way,” he had said, extending his hand once we had finished unpacking.
““y/n, I’m completely exhausted,” I had joked, wiping the rain from my face. “But it’s nice to meet you too.”
That had been the beginning. From that moment on, our lives became intertwined—late-night conversations, spontaneous coffee runs, long drives through the countryside when we needed to escape the city. Everything with Trent felt easy, natural, like he had always been a part of my life.
We started dating 9 months later and moved in together 1 year before. Our flat was small, but it was ours, filled with mismatched furniture, memories of trips we’d taken, and the kind of love that felt like home. Every corner of that space held a memory—a favorite song hummed in the kitchen, late-night dancing in the living room, lazy Sundays spent tangled in each other’s arms and now.
Now, here we were, 3 years later, driving down the coast, just the two of us, no destination in mind. Trent had always been spontaneous—he’d wake up one day with an idea, and before I could blink, we’d be off on some adventure. I wasn’t like that by nature, but being with him had made me appreciate these unplanned moments.
As we neared a little seaside town, Trent slowed the car down, pulling into a parking spot near the beach.
“Let’s get out,” he said, turning off the engine.
I followed him out of the car, the sound of waves crashing in the distance and the faint chatter of people walking along the boardwalk filling the air. Trent slipped his hand into mine, leading me toward the sand.
“What’s the plan?” I asked, smiling up at him.
“No plan,” he said with a grin. “Just thought we could walk a bit.”
We strolled down the beach, our feet sinking into the cool sand as the last rays of sunlight faded below the horizon. It was the kind of evening that felt like it could stretch on forever—quiet, peaceful, but full of unspoken things.
“Do you remember the time we got caught in the rain?” Trent asked.
I laughed, nodding. “Which time? There’s been more than one.”
“The first time,” he said, grinning. “When we were moving your stuff into your flat.”
“Oh, yeah,” I chuckled. “I thought you were just being polite, helping me out. Had no idea you were this big football star.”
He shrugged, a playful glint in his eyes. “I wasn’t that big back then. You were the one who caught my attention, not the other way around.”
“Smooth,” I teased, leaning up to kiss him softly.
He smiled against my lips. “I mean it, though. I’ve always been yours, you know that, right?”
I felt my heart swell at his words. I knew. I had always known. “And I’ve always been yours.”
“Do you ever think about the future?” Trent asked, his voice breaking through the soft lull of the ocean.
I looked at him, surprised by the question.
“Of course. I mean, I think about it all the time. Why?”
He shrugged, his eyes focused on the horizon.
“I don’t know. Lately, I’ve been thinking about it a lot. Us, I mean.”
I smiled softly, watching the way the fading light danced across his face. “You’ve always been the future-planner between us.”
He turned to face me, his expression more serious than before.
“Yeah, but this feels different. I’ve been thinking about what it’d be like to marry you.”
My breath caught in my throat for a moment, and I stopped walking, letting his words sink in. We’d joked about marriage before, in passing, but this felt different. The way he said it, the way he looked at me—it wasn’t just a casual idea anymore.
“Are you serious?” I asked, my voice softer than I intended.
Trent smiled, taking both my hands in his. “I’m always serious when it comes to you.”
I let out a shaky laugh, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness bubbling up inside me.
“We’re really doing this, aren’t we?”
He nodded, his thumb gently brushing over my knuckles.
“Yeah. I mean, I don’t see why not. I’ve known for a while now that you’re the one.”
I bit my lip, trying to keep my emotions in check, but it was impossible not to feel overwhelmed by how much I loved him in that moment. Trent had always been good at making me feel loved, but this was different. This was him laying everything on the line, telling me he wanted a future together, and I knew without a doubt that I wanted the same.
“I love you,” I whispered, stepping closer to him.
He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. “I love you too. And you know what?”
“What?”
“This will be our place,” he said, motioning to the beach around us. “The place where we decide to spend forever together.”
Later that evening, after grabbing some food from a local spot, we found ourselves sitting on the sand, wrapped up in blankets, watching the stars as the waves rolled in. It was one of those perfect nights where everything felt right.
Trent nudged me with his elbow.
“You know we’re going to have to tell people eventually, right?”
I groaned, burying my face on his chest. “Do we have to?”
He laughed, pulling me into his side. “Yes, we do. But... let’s keep it between us for a little while longer. Just you and me.”
I smiled, leaning into him. “Yeah. Just us.”
For now, that was all we needed.
#trent alexander arnold#trent alexander arnold x reader#trent alexander arnold imagines#football imagines#requests#trent alexander arnold one shot#trent alexander arnold fanfiction#trent alexander arnold imagine#footballer imagine#football imagine#trent alexander x reader#trent alexander x you#trent alexander imagines#trent aa
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Mint Chocolate Chip | Check-in 9*
Summary: Based on this ask. You and Harry take a much needed vacation.
A/N: Enjoy this smutty fun beach vaca featuring a bit of jealousrry. 6k words (went a little overboard).
Warning: 18+ only, NSFW, this is kidnapper!harry x reader and so this might not be your thing, smut, possessiveness and jealousy, punishment, and plenty of fluff.
Mint Chocolate Chip Masterlist
Harry had gotten spooked pretty badly when you were recognized at the restaurant and then when you both saw your face on the news on your birthday. He knew you would just tell anyone who questioned you that you were with him willingly. But that didn’t make him feel a whole lot better about it. He didn’t like the questions or the prying. You two had been in your little bubble in his house for long enough that you’d both gotten used to the way things were.
But he couldn’t keep you trapped inside forever.
Well, actually he could if he wanted. He had all the means to do it and he had your complicity. Your loyalty.
And in many ways that all appealed to him. Locking you inside and never letting you out again after that disaster of a dinner outing and knowing your face had been on the news and people were looking for you.
Making you happy, though, was also important to him. You’d proven your devotion to him. You weren’t going anywhere. You had many chances to break free and run away during the random days when he was not in the house for hours at a time. You were allowed in the backyard and could even simply unlock the front door and walk away. But you were always there waiting for him when he returned.
Which was why he wanted to show you his gratitude.
It was time to take you on a vacation. To a place somewhere you could both be out in the open and where no one would recognize you.
He’d researched places and vacation types. States with pretty mountains and cabin retreats. Beaches in California and Florida.
“What do you like better? Going to the beach? Or like a big city? Mountains?”
You looked up from the book you were reading. You had her legs draped over Harry’s thighs as you rested on the couch after dinner. He had been intently looking at something on his phone.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean for vacation. You and me. I was thinking we could go somewhere for a week. What do you like best for a vacation?” Harry reworded.
You put your book down and slid your legs off Harry, sitting up straight as youx` faced him, “You want to take me on a vacation?”
“Of course, I do. Think it would be good for us both.”
The idea of going on a vacation with Harry worried you a little. You definitely would have enjoyed laying on a beach somewhere with him and eating seafood under a palapa but you were worried about being spotted. About Harry getting upset or nervous. Honestly, you worried more about him than you did yourself, which was crazy when you thought about that with a rational mind.
“Um… I would love to go to a beach. See the ocean. But how can we do that?”
Harry knew you couldn’t fly anywhere. He was certain the moment you got to the airport and checked in your name would be flagged in the system and the police would be called. He considered getting you a fake ID and passport but the vacation idea had been spontaneous and he didn’t have that much time to put something together like that.
“We’d take a road trip. Rent a small beach house or something.”
“A road trip. To a beach somewhere. Okay. I like the sound of that.”
. . .
Between you and Harry, you both found a beautiful small beach in Northern California and picked a one-bedroom beach house on Airbnb, not right on the beach, but across the street and up a path. It was an eight-hour drive away, but it would be fun, and you two planned on stopping at the small diners and antique shops along the way.
You had it all mapped out. The spots you’d stop at if you had time, the route that took you to a mom-and-pop hamburger spot that had glowing reviews, a nearby small-town museum you could pop into, and a lake with hiking trails to stretch your legs.
When you arrived in Cloverdale the first stop was the hamburger dive. It was cute. You both stretched as you climbed out of the vehicle and Harry looked so… young… unbothered. You hadn’t seen him look like this ever. Perhaps it was the fact that he could be out with you and not have to worry at all. That he wasn’t keeping you in his house as his captive. It was as if something had been lifted. He’d been unburdened.
You slid your hand into his and stood on your tiptoes to kiss his chin, “I’m hungry. How about you?”
The burgers were good but the tater tots were the star of the meal. Both you and Harry agreed. You got a vanilla milkshake with strawberry topping stirred in and Harry got an iced coffee.
You skipped the museum but decided on a quick peek at the park with the lake and the trails.
It felt nice to be on your feet and walking around outside. The town was beautiful and the little park hidden at the center was cute and maybe even nicer than the photos you’d seen online.
The last few hours to the beach house were peaceful. The traffic was nearly nonexistent. You could feel the last bits of stress and anxiety fall away and Harry’s sudden demeanor lightened even more.
The house was cute. It was in a small neighborhood with a handful of other small houses. A trail at the end of the road led you down to the beach and the ocean could be seen from the living room window.
But before you could really get into vacation mode it was necessary to get some groceries. The house had all the basics already. Coffee, salt, oil, water, and even a bottle of wine from one of the nearby vineyards, courtesy of the host.
The small shop up the road had everything you needed. You perused the wines while Harry loaded the basket with food you two might want during your week. You’d planned on going out to eat as well, but much of your time would be spent lounging on the beach and sleeping in, according to Harry.
“That’s my favorite one. It’s a good price too,” you heard a voice from behind you as you were looking down at a bottle of a red blend. You turned to find a young man looking over your shoulder.
You lifted the bottle up, “Really? Well, then I guess I’ll add this to the basket,” you said with a smile as you placed it in your small cart.
“Lots of good wineries around here. We’re pretty proud of the grapes that come from this area. You new here or just passing through?”
“Oh, just sort of passing through. Staying for a week just a few blocks away. Small beach vacation.”
“Interesting. Not many people choose this town for a beach vacation. What made you choose it?”
“Um… well it just seemed so quant and nice. Plus all the vineyards nearby and trails.”
“You’ll be around for a week? Where are you staying?”
You shot your gaze toward Harry who was already looking at you from the other side of the small shop with an unreadable expression, “Yeah. A week. Just got in today. And, uh, me and my boyfriend are staying not too far from here. Rented an Airbnb close to the beach.”
The young man’s brows raised, “Ahh… I wasn’t sure if he was a boyfriend or uncle…” he laughed quietly. You frowned.
Harry was a bit older than you but you didn’t imagine he looked like an uncle. And you were already losing your patience with the guy. He hadn’t done anything wrong but you weren’t used to small talk with strangers anymore. The guy was grating.
Suddenly Harry’s warm hand was on your shoulder as he pulled you into himself. His other arm reached around your frame and held it out to the young man, “I’m Harry, this is my girlfriend, Y/n. You are?”
The guy grinned and reached out to grasp Harry’s hand in a shake that seemed far too aggressive and you weren’t sure if the jostle of the shake came from Harry’s end or the other’s.
“Chris. Nice to meet you both,” his hand fell back down to his side as Harry brought his other palm up to your arm, holding you a bit possessively, “I was just sharing with Y/n here about the great wineries we’ve got nearby. Some of the best wine in the world comes from this region.”
“Is that so? We’ll be sure to enjoy some of the best wines during our stay here then. But, we do have to be going so… It was a pleasure to meet you.”
Harry pulled you away and guided you to the register to buy everything. You hadn’t experienced Harry being jealous before. You’d never had the opportunity. And you weren’t sure that that was what that was just now but you also weren’t dumb. You knew Harry was very possessive of you.
On the car ride back you picked a radio station and pulled a bottle of wine from the bag, “Can’t wait to crack this one open. Says it’s reminiscent of strawberries straight off the vine,” you read from the label.
Harry smiled at you and nodded, “Yeah that does sound good. We can drink it on the beach if you want. I’m ready to get my toes in the sand.”
So that’s just what you did. You put your bathing suits on and stuffed a bag with towels and the bottle of wine before walking up the trail to the lovely sandy beach and finding a spot to toss your towels and uncork the bottle.
The sun was already beginning to set and the wind had picked up but it was still nice and balmy. The backdrop of the waves crashing and birds soaring above, the smell of the ocean, and a few stragglers walking in the distance felt very much like you were living in a romantic movie.
Harry handed you the bottle of wine and you laughed, realizing you both forgot cups or glasses but also just tossing aside concern for that small detail. You brought the bottle up to your lips and took a drink of the red blend, which turned out, your pallet was not quite sensitive enough to pick up a single strawberry-from-the-vine note the label boasted.
You looked back down at the bottle as you gulped the red liquid down your throat and pointed at the label, “Tastes nothing like strawberry. But it’s good.” You smiled as you handed the bottle to Harry who mimicked you in putting the bottle to his lips to take a drink.
He laughed as he brought the bottle down and shook his head, “It’s like those wine tasters who put in notes of pencil shaving and charred almonds. I never taste those sorts of things. Just tastes like…” you both grinned and said the word “wine!” in unison as you laughed.
Despite the lack of strawberry flavor the bottle of wine, Harry’s company, and the sand under your toes felt incredible.
Harry pulled you into his chest so you were sitting between his legs and had your back against him. The whole scene was romantic. You were outside on the beach with a bottle of wine in your lover’s arms as you watched the sunset slowly until the sky was pink and purple and orange on the horizon.
Harry nipped at your neck and sighed making you giggle and pull away but he held you tight and laughed into your neck, “So, Chris was awfully friendly. What did he say to you before I got there?”
You rolled your eyes but kept the grin on your face, “He was just talking about the vineyards and the wine. Recommended this one,” you said as you tapped the empty bottle, “Asked why we chose this spot for vacation. That was it really.”
“So he’s nosey. And he has questionable taste in wine.”
You snickered and shook your head to turn and look at him, “Were you jealous?”
Harry squinted his eyes at you and licked his lips before looking out toward the ocean, “Of course not.”
You leaned back into him and smiled. He definitely was.
. . .
When you walked back to the little house up the trail Harry kept hold of your hand. You hadn’t had many moments with him away from his house. Having him holding your hand and keeping you steady as you stepped carefully over the small rocks and the sand along the dark trail made you feel like you did when you were a kid. It was fun and the darkness was exciting. But it also gave you a sense of safety with his hand wrapped around yours as he led you carefully through the path. But there was also the fact that you’d had half a bottle of wine.
“I’m already having so much fun, Harry,” you said as you entered the house and Harry sat the bag down next to the door.
Harry smirked and locked the door, grabbing your hips and pulling you in, his wine-stained mouth connected to yours in haste. You hadn’t expected it at all. He had been quiet the whole way back, which wasn’t out of the norm for him. Harry wasn’t much of a talker, you did well to fill in the silence with your near-constant rambling. But still, you hadn’t thought he’d be all over you the moment you stepped into the door.
“Let’s go test out that bed,” he spoke quietly and turned you around to walk you toward the bedroom.
Now, the thing was that your sex drive was high. For Harry it was. You were sure that no one else could make you feel the way he did. Obviously, you were a virgin before you met him but he was so good at what he did and the way he made you feel, the way you’d get wet for him in an instant, just the way he trained you, you were usually begging him for his come every night. He liked to act as if he was aloof or didn’t need it because he loved to watch you squirm, hear you beg…
But tonight was different. He wanted you and he was being quite handsy suddenly. Needy even, you’d say. He was already hard in his shorts when he put you on the bed and pulled your bathing suit off.
He gave you little preamble before pasting his lips to your cunt and bringing you to your first orgasm for the night. He made it messy and noisy too. His moans vibrated off your body and sounded through the room as he fed from your pussy. His fingers and hand were drenched and he wiped his face through your folds until he was coated in your arousal from the bridge of his nose to the bottom of his chin. You were breathless and shivering as you called his name.
And you had no time to recover before he was wrecking your insides with his long cock. The bed rocked under his thrusts and his dirty words were whispered into the room, “My pussy, my girl… no one gets to have this. You’re mine, aren’t you?”
You gasped and nodded, unable to form words when your lungs were searching for air from the way he pounded into you, punching into your guts and rendering you a breathy mess under him.
“S’right. My little girl. All these holes are mine to come inside.”
You weren’t in the head space to think about what he was saying. You just knew that yes, you were his. Your holes were his.
But Harry was making a point. He knew he didn’t need to but his jealousy and possessiveness got the best of him when he thought about the way Chris tried talking to you. And he saw the way the guy looked at you. Harry wasn’t dumb. He knows the look.
“Tell me pup,” Harry spoke his words in gasps as he moved in and out of your beautifully tight and warm pussy, “Who do you belong to?”
Your words came out in punched breaths, “You! Harry! I… only you!”
The way Harry was dipping in deep and fast felt so yummy. You loved how he felt when he was connected to you. You imagined that his cock inside of you was like some kind of Lego piece to your little Lego piece. As odd as that sounded – it made sense in your brain. Every time he was inside of you the pieces fit together so nicely and made something even better than they were before. Something bigger. Something complete.
“Fuck, pup! You’re so good. So fucking sweet and you’re all mine. Gonna breed you, baby. Want my babies, pup?”
Harry had been hinting a bit lately. More often than not lately. You didn’t know if it was a heat of the moment kind of thing or if he really wanted to knock you up. But you would happily be a mother to his children if he wanted. And while he was railing you deep with his big cock making you braindead you especially loved that idea.
“Yeah… uhghhh! Yes! Fuck!!” His pounding didn’t let up and the bed underneath only got louder as the springs danced under your back. The thud of Harry’s heavy balls to your skin was wet and you could feel them pressing into you each time he bottomed out.
“M’gonna make you a mommy. Fuck my come into your womb and no one can have you when they see you pregnant with my babies.”
You panted and felt sweat at your temple. Harry’s words were tight and grunted as he spoke between heavy thrusts.
“It’s so deep! Harry!!” It was deep. It felt especially sharp and achy with the way he was punishing your pussy with his cock. But you could handle it. You’d handled him going in harder many times.
Every plunge and smack of skin, the squeak of the mattress, and panted words and gasps only got louder as Harry neared his end. His moans were beautiful. You loved making him feel good like this. Loved when he came inside of you and orgasmed because your pussy felt so good. Because he loved you so much.
“Better feel your pussy squeezing around me again, pup. Come on, baby. Fucking come all over me,” Harry clenched his jaw as he spoke, holding himself back. He wanted one more from you. Selfishly he liked knowing he could make you come over and over again so you knew how good he could take care of you in the way no one else could. And also because he loved how you felt when your pussy spasmed around his cock as he came, the way you milked him and his balls drained into his cock and poured into your body as you shivered and pulsed around his throbbing dick.
Your ears began to ring as you started to come again. Harry’s thick tip was continuously poking into your little spot on the inside that made your toes curl and that did you in. The stretch and the deep thrusts into your soft aching little part on the inside had you shaking and shouting his name in orgasm.
Harry saw stars as he finally allowed himself to drain into you, fucking himself in as deep as possible so his come would stick and get in deep, his wide crown pushing it up into your guts. Your slick, hot walls wrung his cock out like a rag, making all of her sperm drip into you with each pulse and contraction from your little muscle. He was rendered silent as he felt himself being siphoned by you. His mouth hung open and he trembled over you, his arms barely holding himself up, his thighs quivering… he hadn’t realized he’d been so on edge. He was responding to your pussy the way you responded to his cock.
And of course, the rest of the night was sweet and soft. Harry helped you clean up and doted on you. You both lay together on the couch and watched TV as you faced Harry so you could watch him. You loved looking at him and rubbing your hands over his tattooed chest and upward to the scruff on his neck and face. You kissed his nipples and sighed to yourself about how lucky you felt as you fell asleep in his arms.
The next few days were all spent in the dizzying heat on the sand and splashing around in the ocean a little. The waves were strong so you didn’t go in too deep, at Harry’s urging, “Don’t want you to get hurt, pup. Stay close to the shallow parts.”
You visited a vineyard attached to a winery and bought a case of wine that you both loved to bring back home with you. And every night the sex was filled with lots of dirty talk of getting you knocked up and making you a mommy.
But last night, Harry had gone easy on you. He didn’t pound into you or make you sore all over like he often did. No spankings or hair pulling. He fucked you sweet and slow and kept his cock stuffed inside of you until he’d long softened in order to make it stick. Make the come stay inside and get you where he wanted you.
So that meant that today you were feeling extra spicy. A soft fucking sometimes meant you turned into a bit of a brat afterward or the following day. There was something in you that needed the brutal fuckings in order to keep you subdued.
You were on the towel and pulled your bikini top off as you laid flat on your tummy so you could get a tan on your back but Harry swatted your bottom as he hovered over you possessively, “What the fuck are you doing, pup? Want everyone to see your tits?”
You giggled and looked up at the man, “Just needed a nice tan. Don’t worry. You’re the only one that gets to see the front, Harry. Don’t be so boring.”
Harry scoffed. He was anything but boring and you knew it. But he knew the game you were playing.
He looked around and the beach was mostly empty. There were some people in the distance but no one would see what he was about to do.
“Boring?” He said as he yanked you up by your arm, your tits out. He pulled you into his lap and draped you across his thighs as he pulled your bikini bottoms down just enough that he could spank you hard.
You grinned as you yelped at each of his rough smacks and felt your backside burn from the sensitive skin of your bottom getting a beating. You kicked your legs and turned to look at Harry, “Hey! I don’t deser-“Your back talk was cut short when he issued you another spanking.
“You deserve exactly what I give you,” another strike to the exposed flesh of your ass, “Went too soft last night and now you’re acting like a little terror.”
You put your face into the crook of your arm as Harry continued punishing you right there on the beach with your tits bare against the towel, small granules of sand covering your damp skin.
When he felt you were finally somewhat mellowed he lifted you up and handed you your bikini top.
“Put this back on right now or we’re going back to the house.”
As if that were a punishment for you. He’d only gotten you even more worked up with the spankings and now your nipples were hard and your pussy was wet. You bit your lip and gave him a look of challenge but you put your bikini top on. Your ass couldn’t handle another swat. You were sure of it.
But now the problem was you couldn’t sit on your bottom at all over the towel and the small bits of sand were irritating your rear.
“I’ve got to go get into the water for just a bit. Come with me.” You stood up and gave Harry your sweetest puppy dog eyes.
Harry shook his head, “Gonna stay right here. You go on. But don’t go in too deep.”
As you walked away Harry became very aware of how red your ass and your thighs were. Your bikini bottoms covered the most severe markings but the parts that were exposed were very obviously red and spanked. He rolled his eyes, hoping no one saw what he had.
Once you got into the ocean and let the cool water soothe your bottom you turned to look back at Harry and waved at him and then stuck your tongue out. You didn’t know why you’d done it. You were just in a mood. You needed him to obliterate you since it was your last full day. Something about being on vacation and being in public with him really did something to you. Made you feel naughty and liberated all at once. You were having a really good time on your little getaway. It was just what you both had needed.
“Water’s great today!” You heard a familiar voice and turned your head to see Chris.
“It really is! The waves aren’t too crazy either. Haven’t really been able to get in too deep.”
Chris walked into the water toward you with a grin on his face, “Oh no? Are you not used to swimming in the ocean? There’s a technique you know.”
You shook your head, “No. Haven’t swum much in the ocean. The waves are so strong that they pull me under,” you laughed as you lowered your bottom half down to let the water submerge up to your rib cage.
“I could teach you. It’s not too difficult. Just some basic rules for when the waves are coming at you. It’ll make you safer in the water too.”
“Oh… well. Okay!” You looked out to where Harry was and realized he was lying flat on his back. He hadn’t even noticed that Chris was talking to you. You smiled to yourself just knowing that when he realized you were out here with him he’d probably come out into the water with you finally.
Chris gave you an example as a small wave came ashore jumping into it as it neared and explained how the timing was important. He held your hand to help you jump into the waves so you got the feel for how you should be moving into the water.
“Okay, now let’s do it a little more in the shallow so the waves feel stronger. You’ll see.”
You followed him closer toward the shore and you could feel the waves more intensely.
Suddenly Chris’s chattering stopped, “Are you… okay? Did you get dragged on your butt in the sand from the waves?” He seemed genuinely worried about the state of your bottom.
You laughed and nodded. Actually, that was a great excuse. You kind of wanted to tell him that your lover had just spanked you for being a brat but you were sure Harry would hate that, “Yes. Like I said. I am not a strong swimmer so I got taken down in the water to the sand on my butt.” You laughed.
Chris squinted and you realized he was inspecting your bottom a bit too closely when suddenly you heard Harry, both of you turning to see the tall man with broad shoulders stomping his way toward you. Uh oh.
“Let’s go. We need to get some lunch.” Harry fumed.
“Oh, but Chris is just showing me how to swim in the ocean properly. He’s just trying to help me stay safe.”
Harry did not like this one bit. He didn’t like that Chris had been ogling your backside with his red handprints all over, or that he was near you in the ocean at all. And that he was acting as if he was trying to protect you somehow. That was Harry’s job.
“Is he now? And what’s the best way to go about that, Chris?” Harry said as he began to slosh into the water nearing you until he was at your side in the water, “Because from what I just saw you were more so staring at her bottom. Is that how you show her to stay safe?”
Chris’s eyes got wide as he shook his head, “No! Of course not! She told me that she’d gotten taken down by a wave and that her butt hit the sand. I was just concerned because that’s really a lot,” he cleared his throat keeping his eyes on Harry.
“Your concern is noted. Now,” he looked back down at you, putting his hands at your shoulders and leading you out of the water, “Let’s get going before the waves take you down again, pup.”
You smiled and waved at Chris, “Bye! Thank you so much for trying to help keep me safe,” twisting the proverbial knife in just a bit more. You knew Harry would be fuming by the time you two got back into the house.
And he was. But fuming might have been an understatement. It was the first time Harry’d had to deal with such a thing with you.
When the door was locked, Harry kept his hands at your shoulders as he spoke into your ear with seething wrath, “What the fuck is wrong with you? Why don’t you behave when I fuck you softly? Hmm? You need to be treated like a slutty brat when I fuck you don’t you? Need to be smacked around a little?”
Harry let go of you as he pushed you down to your knees and lowered his swim trunks just enough that his cock was out.
“Suck til I’m hard then I’m gonna treat you like you the way you seem to want.”
You nodded and smirked as you began working on his cock, spitting and licking and sucking all around him. He grew hard in your mouth and hands fast. His length was always a shock to you when you saw it up close. Harry’s dick was big. But that was part of what made you love having him fuck you. You loved being wrecked by him.
When you began to bob over him, spit covering his cock to his base he gathered your hair up and pushed you down on him, holding you in place with both hands, “Mouth needs bruised just like your bottom,” he groaned as he filled your tight throat, causing your eyes to water with your nose brushing into his pelvis.
You grabbed onto his thighs as he began to slowly roll his hips into you. He bit his lip and closed his eyes to just feel you. He didn’t want to give you the pleasure of hearing him moan.
The way he was fucking your mouth wasn’t too out of the ordinary. Though he normally was a bit more vocal you figured it was part of the punishment you knew you deserved. You gurgled and gagged around him as he continued stuffing himself into you and you knew to just take it.
When he pulled out you gasped and swallowed but then leaned forward to put him back in your mouth but he only pulled your hair harder to keep your lips off of him. He pulled you up by your hair and then pushed you against the couch, so you were bent over the arm with your red bottom facing up.
The sudden movements were unexpected but the moment he buried himself into your pussy, splitting you in half you sighed and cooed at him, “Fuck me. God yes!”
Harry rolled his eyes and shook his head. You were incorrigible. Impossible to correct at times. But fuck if he didn’t love you and the way you took him.
He gave you no mercy as he began railing you deep, the couch being pushed the slightest and banging into the wall, “You don’t get to come. You’re only here to hold my sperm and take your punishment. Maybe then you’ll turn into a good girl.”
His hand held you down by the back of your head into the cushion as he continued bucking into your pussy, reaching deep into your tummy. The delicious sound of wet cunt being fucked and stuffed repeatedly had your head spinning. You could record the sound of yourself getting railed and get off on that alone.
Harry pushed his fingers into your hair to grip harder and put his other hand at your low back to keep you down as you kept arching your back and trying to push yourself onto him harder. You wanted it harder.
Harry finally let out a choked groan as he felt you clench hard and watched his cock fuck into you. He would never grow tired of fucking your little pussy and watching your soft skin turn red from his fingers and spankings. Your face was smushed into the couch but he could see your mouth was wide open and your eyes were shut. He loved that you loved it.
Suddenly he lifted you up by your hair so he could speak filth into your ear, “Little slutty wet hole all f’me. Puppy wants my come and my cock all the fucking time. Isn’t that right?”
You tried nodding but his grip was tight as his chest was pressed into your back, his hips rolling into you in punishing thrusts.
“Gonna come inside of your cunt and over and over again until we leave tomorrow. Teach you a lesson about being needy and slutty. Always soaked for me and begging to be stuffed full,” his words came out in gasps and you could tell he was about to come.
You sighed and licked your lips as you let him use you for his pleasure, happy to take whatever he gave you.
When his grip tightened harshly at your hair and his wet lips licked your ear he moaned and jerked his hips into you, his balls pressed against you tightly as he throbbed and pumped his come into your tummy.
He breathed hard and pulled his other arm around your middle as he held you close to his chest, filling you to the brim with his sperm.
You hissed when his cock reached into you so deep and he kept himself submerged in that achy spot, never letting up pushing into you. It felt as if he was going to tear your pussy in two for a moment.
As he came down, his harsh grip on your hair and around your middle loosened as he lowered you back to the couch and finally pulled himself out.
You lay quietly and sweetly as you caught your breath. You hadn’t come, of course, but you were certainly feeling the flow of endorphins from making Harry come.
And just like always, he tenderly helped you clean up, kissed you, and spoke to you as if you were the best thing he’d ever had, “Took it like a good girl. Such a soft little pussy, but even better is that I get you and your pretty eyes and these beautiful lips. What would I do without you? Huh?”
“I love you, Harry.”
Harry grinned as he smoothed his hands over your naked body, “I know pup. I love you too.”
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Forgive Me (Pt. 2)
Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x female reader
Summary: After reconciling in your bedroom, Miguel disappears on you for a week. Giving up on any hopes of romance, your friends plan a night out for you to cheer up. Too bad your boss makes an appearance and catches you with an attractive stranger on a stormy night. Read Part One: here
Word Count: 4463 words
Content: Miguel being a rude bastard, Miguel asking for forgiveness (again), arguments, possessiveness, alcohol consumption, tobacco consumption, 18+ (minors DNI), no p in v but things get spicy at the end, female fingering, finger sucking, misogyny, insecurity, swearing, hurt and comfort, office sex (no p in v), questionable Spanish
Note: ANGST! Got carried away once again. Lowkey not proofread. I love angst and Miguel being vulnerable. If you are into angst, you will enjoy this. Feel free to correct my Spanish and ask for any other cw to be added. Thank you for the 1K+ notes on Pt. 1. Have fun, horndogs ;)
It has been seven days since you last saw Miguel O’Hara.
After spending a full 48 hours by your side, he had gone back to work. You decided to join him at Alchemax the next day but found his office empty. At first, you thought he was occupied with Spider-Man business, so you kept yourself busy with answering his overflowing email box. Slowly the sun set behind the skyline of Nueva York and the messages ran out, leaving behind a feeling of uneasiness in your stomach.
You [sent Friday, 6 pm]: Hey, are you coming to work today?
You [sent Friday, 10 pm]: I’m going home for the night. Call me when you are home. I miss you :)
You [sent Saturday, 5 am]: Are you okay?
You [sent Saturday, 1 pm]: I’m getting really worried. Where are you?
You [sent Saturday, 5 pm]: I emailed you in case you lost your phone. Call me asap.
You [sent Sunday, 7 pm]: I’ll see you at work tomorrow.
You [sent Monday, 9 am]: Lyla said you’re okay but won’t tell me what’s going on. Says I don’t have clearance. Please call me.
You [sent Monday 10 am]: Are you actually ignoring me?
You [sent Tuesday, 1 am]: My best friend you’re an asshole and I should never let you near my pussy ever again.
You [sent Tuesday 1:23 am] Are you ghosting me? You know we work together, right?
You [sent Tuesday, 3:30 am]: I hate you Miguel O’Hara.
Friday rolled around and your best friend had enough of your drunk late-night facetime calls. She gathered a group of your high school girlfriends and decided a night out in the town would be the perfect remedy. “Fuck him, babe,” Katy states, sliding a shot glass across the table. “You should report him to HR for being an ass.”
You laughed and tipped the glass into your mouth. The tequila burnt its way down your throat. “I’m just going to find a new job. I can’t be dealing with this shit right now.”
Your friend Soo let out a burp. “Did you let him hit it?”
You shake your head. “No,” you cough. “We came close to it, like above the pants stuff— do you think that’s why he’s ignoring me? Because I didn’t put out right away?”
“Bitch,” Katy chides, slapping the tabletop, “be fucking for real. You look like a busty, hot secretary from some comic book. He should be lucky you let him touch your tits!”
Your friends nodded along in agreement. Katy grabs the sides of your chair and spins it around, facing you to the restaurant bar. “You see that guy there?” she points at a man with messy blond hair in an open-collar white shirt. “He’s been eyeing you all night. Go talk to him right now.”
The tequila must have heightened your bravery as you found yourself walking across the dimly lit restaurant and to the wall. Stealing a glance at him from the corner of your eye, you ask the bartender for, “a rum and coke please.”
“You can add her drink to my tab,” the man says just like you hoped he would. “I hope you don’t mind. I saw your friends fussing over you earlier and you looked like you needed a drink.”
“Is it that obvious?” You ask, letting out a laugh. “You’re right, I do need a little pick-me-upper tonight.”
“My name is John,” he says.
You introduced yourself and slide in the empty seat next to him. “So, what’s going on with you?” he questions, sipping his beer.
You carefully lift your drink from the bar top and circled the rim with your index finger. “I’m not sure if I wanna’ trauma dump on a stranger.”
“Sometimes talking to strangers helps.”
You contemplate his words and sigh. Your friends would kick you if you said the name Miguel O’Hara again in their general vicinity. You chose to divulge a little to the mystery man. “Things got a bit complicated with someone I really cared about. Everything was going well and then he disappeared suddenly, and I don’t know why.”
John listens to you carefully, nodding to himself. “You know what I do when I’m confused?”
“What?”
“I take a smoke break to chill out,” he answers, standing up. “Care to join me?”
You downed the contents of your glass and follow him out a door that open to a back alley behind the restaurant. Rain pours down heavily, and you both huddle under a dingy metal shed. The cold air bites your arms sharply as John lights the end of his cigarette and brings it to his mouth. “It can be frustrating when you’re left without answers but a girl like you has nothing to worry about.”
You smile at his words. You take the cigarette off his hand and take a drag. The smoke fills your lungs, making your head spin a little. The light-headedness reminds you of how you felt last time when Miguel was in your arms. Airy, free, and light. No matter what you do, all your thoughts lead back to him. You shake away the memories and pass the cigarette back to John.
“What the hell are you doing out here?” a stern voice asks.
A man melts out of the shadows in the alley and into the light shining from a streetlamp above. You recognize him. “Miguel?”
He doesn’t look at you and keeps his eyes focused on John. “Who is he?” he asks with a deep frown.
“Listen, I’m off work right now,” you clear your throat, sticking your nose up in the air. “I don’t have to explain—”
“Look, man,” John interrupts, “no need to get all worked about this. We are just talking.”
Miguel lets out a harsh laugh. “Yeah, right,” he spits and gets in his face. “You could have done that at the bar. Why the fuck are you out here alone with her? What were you planning on doing?”
“Mr. O’Hara!” you exclaim, stepping in between them. “You are out of line!”
He raises his eyebrows at your formality but keeps his attention on John over your shoulder. “Buddy,” John says, wrapping an arm around your waist and moving you to the side. “She is allowed to talk to whoever she wants. I suggest you leave us alone now.”
The touch doesn’t go unnoticed by Miguel. His nostrils flare and his eyes turned red with anger. He steps closer to John until he is looming over the poor man. You often forget how big your boss is compared to everyone around him. The scene looks almost comical with how John tries to puff out his chest. “Te calmas o te calmo,” (Calm yourself, or I’ll calm you down) Miguel snarls.
Whatever John sees in his face is enough to make him reconsider. He holds his hands up in surrender and backs away slowly. Stopping in front of you he pushes the half-burnt cigarette into your hand and whispers, “If this is the guy you were talking about, then maybe it’s a good thing he disappears. I’ll be inside if you still want to talk.”
He walks away from the alley and into the restaurant, leaving you with Miguel alone in the alley. You watch in silence as his body trembles, and you can’t tell if it’s from anger or the rain hammering away at his back.
He breaks the silence. “So, you’re letting strangers into our private business?”
You snort loudly. “You don’t get to speak to me like that,” you tell him, taking another drag. “Especially after disappearing on me. You can’t just strut back into my life and tell me who I can confide in.”
“I was tending to some urgent matters,” he says, brushing his wet hair away from his forehead. “So I took the time to handle them. I can’t be around you every second of the day acting as your lap dog.”
The heat from the cigarette burns your skin. “What the hell is wrong with you?” you raise your voice, throwing your hands in the air. “You’re acting like I want you on a leash! I just wanted to know you were okay.”
“Clearly I’m okay,” he replies, rolling his eyes.
Your lips tug into a deep scowl at his tone. “Did you ever stop to consider how your actions affected me? How lost and confused I felt waiting by the phone every day?”
“It wasn’t intentional,” Miguel matches your tone. “You know I am a busy man, and that I have responsibilities. But you’d rather live in some fantasy land where I’m just some monster out to hurt you! You can’t begin to understand the weight I carry on my shoulders.”
Anger surges through your body. “How am I supposed to understand when you don’t tell me anything? Hell, your AI knows more about you than I do. It’s like you only care about missions or work and nothing else—”
“Sometimes in life, personal matters have to take a backseat,” he cuts you off, harshly. “Not everyone can put on a short skirt and high heels, waltz into work, type a few memos and then call it a night.”
“You misogynist fuck!” You scream back at him, resisting the urge to slap him silly. “I hate you!”
“I hate you too!” he yells back in your face with bloodshot eyes.
You spin on your heels and begin walking towards the main road. Rage begins to bubble inside you and reaches your throat. You turn around just as you reach the sidewalk and call out, “You know what? It doesn’t matter if you disappear again because I have hated you since the moment I met you. I hated you when everyone at work warned me about you. I hated you all those times you dismissed me like an afterthought. And I hated you when you came to my room that night begging for a second chance. So, I don’t care if you hate me, or think I’m useless or unimportant cause have hated you longer and harder and for better fucking reasons!”
You take another drag from the cigarette and then crush it underneath your pretty high heels. You make a right at the end of the alley and begin walking up the street. Warm tears spill down your face as you shiver in the rain. Katy was right, he was an asshole. An asshole that made you feel dumb for having a normal job or human emotions. But maybe you were just an idiot for falling in love with a man who didn’t respect you. Love wasn’t supposed to be this hard, but here you were feeling small and crying at the side of the road.
The sound of screeching tires brings you out of your self-pity. A sleek black car pulls up on the other side of the road and the passenger window rolls down. Miguel’s face emerges from behind the glass. “Ven aquí!” (come here) he calls out.
You ignore him and keep walking ahead. You have no idea where you are going, but you would rather eat rocks than speak to him.
From the corner of your eyes, you see Miguel make a sharp left, almost hitting oncoming traffic and pulling up beside you. “Get in the car!”
Your feet don’t stop moving so he slowly inches his car to match your speed. “Estoy harto. (I’m sick of this) Let’s talk!”
Honks and yells filled the night as people grew frustrated with his speed. “Stop,” you hiss, bending down to the window. “You are embarrassing me!”
“Get in the car then,” he says, with a clenched jaw. “You’re gonna’ catch a cold in the rain.”
“Stop pretending like you care,” you snarl, kicking the side of his car.
“A-YO LADY!” a man yells out of his yellow cab. “Get in the damn car! Your boyfriend is holding up traffic!”
A pleased smirk spread across Miguel’s face at the man’s remarks. You let out a frustrated grunt and yanked the door open, slipping into the passenger seat. “Put your seatbelt on,” he says, picking up speed.
You begrudgingly obey but wished that his car would get rear-ended so hard that his fat head would go through the windshield. “You look like you want me dead, babe,” he commented with a nervous laugh.
“Don’t call me that,” you snap, adjusting the belt over your soaking dress. “Where are we going?”
“Back to Alchemax,” he points at the GPS screen. “The freeway flooded, and it will be a while until it clears up. I have a spare set of clothes I keep in the office for overnighters. You can change while we wait for the storm to blow over.”
“I don’t want your charity,” you grumble, crossing my hand over my chest.
“I know,” he says. “I just want to take care of you.”
You disliked how your stomach felt at his words. “I left my bag behind at the restaurant.”
“I picked it up, it’s in the back seat.”
“I didn’t pay my tab.”
“It’s taken care of. Your friends know you’re fine, too. Just relax.”
Miguel leans over to turn your seat warmer on and warmth spreads across your chest and down your limbs. He drives in silence with only the soft white noise of radio static playing in the background. Occasionally you tear your gaze away from the furiously working windshield wipers and steal glances at his face. The headlights from other cars make the slopes of his cheek and the plumpness of his lips visible even on a stormy night. His warm complexion has turned pale, and you ponder if it was because of your interaction earlier.
You both pull up into the Alchemax parking lot and get out of the car. The security team must be watching through the cameras, wondering why one of their lead engineers was coming into work late at night with his drenched secretary. You quickly follow him into the elevator and up to the floor with his office. He opens the office door, and you slide inside into the dark space.
“Lyla,” he calls out and the room illuminates on command. “Lights.”
Miguel walks up to a storage cupboard and retrieves a towel in one hand and fresh clothes in the other. He passes them to you, and you quietly enter the adjacent washroom to change. You peel your damp dress off your skin and shiver as the chilly air hits you all over. Rubbing the towel quickly over your cold skin, you slip into an oversized t-shirt and shorts. It takes two knots of the drawstring, but you manage to keep the waistband tied around your naval.
You find Miguel waiting for you outside. He had changed into a shirt that hugged his slender waist and pants that hung dangerously low under his taut stomach. He pulls the towel out of your hand and drapes it over your head. His hands gently rub the threads against your wet hair in soft, circular motions. You lean into his touch involuntarily. “I can do it myself,” you complain but made no move to reach for the fabric.
“I know,” he replies. “I want to do it for you.”
“Please don’t.”
“Hmm?”
“You’re doing that thing again,” you said, “and it’s messing with my head.”
“What thing?”
“The thing where you start acting kind after being mean,” you explain in a small voice. “I don’t like it. It’s confusing”
He tugs the towel back so you can look into each other’s eyes. “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad,” he speaks, gently. “I just lost my shit when I saw you with him.”
“You cut off all contact when all I wanted was to know if you were okay,” your voice shakes as you stare at your feet. “You left me all alone, what was I supposed to do? Wait for you to change your mind?”
“I know I messed up, baby. I was wrong” he sighs, inching down his forehead to meet yours. “I should have communicated with you, but sometimes on missions, things get complicated. I don’t always like the things I have to do, and recently I’m having a difficult time making peace with it. It’s like the harder I try to do the right thing, the more damage I do. So sometimes, it’s just better to be alone rather than pretend I’m okay around other people.”
His words hurt your heart. You knew that his missions take a toll on him. In the past whenever you tried to inquire about its contents he wouldn’t answer. You wouldn’t push, afraid that he’d pull away, but it seems that he was pulling away regardless.
“When you’re gone,” you clear your throat, trying to speak through your narrowing trachea, “I worry that you might be laying dead in some universe, and I’d be none the wiser. I know that being Spider-Man is a sacrifice, but I don’t care about the world. I only care about you. So, when you treat me this way, it’s like I can’t breathe.”
He cups your face and places a soft kiss right on your cheekbone “Forgive me.”
“You say that a lot,” you remind him with a frown.
“I know,” he nods, “and I still mean it. I’m just an idiot who doesn’t know how to find the balance in life. I love that you care about me, and I want you to continue caring about me.”
“I don’t know, Mr. O’Hara,” you said. “I can’t ignore the way you speak to me at times. It feels as if you think we’re not equals. I am not some idiot. I am not beneath you just because I work under you.”
He groaned at the sound of his last name. Every time you called him that, it made the space between feel bigger. “I have seen a million universes, nena, (babe) and you are not beneath me in any of them,” he curls a damp strand behind your ear, “Unless we are in bed, then you’re definitely under me.”
“Miguel!” you chide, punching him in the stomach. “No es broma! (It’s not a joke) I’m being serious!”
He lets out an oof and backs away. His fangs poke out from underneath his curled lips and in that moment, he looks as carefree. He wraps his large hands around your arms and holds your attention. “I know broken trust isn’t easily mendable, but I’m going to try my hardest. I won’t leave you out in the dark or make you feel small. I’ll think twice before I open my stupid mouth. I’ll even ask Lyla to give you full access to my missions. Wh-when you see what I have to do- what I must do, please don’t hate me.”
“Miggy,” you pout, reaching for his face. “I was really, really angry when I said those things to you. I can never hate you. My heart won’t let me.”
His toothy grin appears again, and Miguel draws you into him. His smooth lips find yours and he cranes your head back to find the angle that leaves you breathless. You run the pads of your thumb gently across the slopes of his cheeks. It never ceased to surprise you that his skin was so soft under his stubble. Without breaking your kiss, your shuffle back and walk him to his desk chair. You smile into his lips as he shakes his head when you move him back and down to sit. His hands wrap around your wrists. “D-don’t leave,” he cries out.
You shake your head and take a seat on his lap with your legs dangling off the side. Miguel’s hands find your jaw and he turns your mouth to his. You wrap your fingers in his hair and tug him closer. You let out a content hum as his fangs softly dig into your lips, breaking the skin. The taste of metal fills your mouth, and you pull away to look at him. He sits in your embrace, with red-stained lips and is just as breathless. “Sorry,” he sheepishly says. “I usually have them under control. It’s just you’re in my office and in my clothes. It’s making my head spin a little.”
You laugh at his words and gently pull his hair back. Pressing a wet kiss to his exposed throat you ask, “Miggy, how come we haven’t had sex yet?”
“Honestly?” he lets out a choked moan.
“Honestly,” you hum, licking his jaw.
His hands suddenly grab you by the elbows and spin you around on his lap, so his chest is facing your back. His warm breath hits the nape of your neck. A shiver runs down your spine. “I haven’t fucked you yet because once I’m inside you,” he whispers into your ear, “I’ll never want to be anywhere else. I wouldn’t want to eat, sleep, work, or be Spider-Man. I think I’ll just want to stay buried in you all the time.”
“Miguel,” you moan, clutching your thighs together.
“Tsk-tsk,” he clicks his tongue. “Don’t hide from me.”
His large hand slips between your thighs and pushes your legs apart. He turns the chair around until you’re both facing his work desk. “Up,” he commands, slapping the side of your thighs.
You gingerly obey and place your bare feet on the edge of his desk. His hands slip under your shirt, and he fumbles with the knot. Impatient with the knots, he uses a sharp claw to cut through the drawstring. Your breath hitches as he pushes the loose shorts down your legs and off your feet. He wraps his fingers behind your knees and draws your legs apart. He puts his chin over your shoulder and bunches your shirt up to get a good look at your pink underwear. “Baby,” he coos. “You gotta’ let me have this once we are done. A little souvenir for when I’m away.”
Your stomach tightens at his suggestion. You glance at him and then the office door,. “Someone will see us,” you nervously gulp.
“You let me worry about that,” he says and presses a kiss to the side of your forehead, “and just relax. I’m not gonna’ let anyone else see my girl spread out like this.”
He runs his knuckles down your bare stomach and across the clothed cunt. Electricity shoots up your body and you almost curl up in his arms. Miguel’s fingertips find a quickly dampening spot on the fabric. “Huh,” he huffs. “Is this me or rainwater?”
You cry, arching into his touch.
“I guess it’s just me,” he grins against your shoulder.
He slides your underwear off your legs and tosses it on the table. It lands on a pile of paperwork you had put aside from him earlier in the week. Miguel stops breathing at the sight of your glistening, swollen pussy. A loud moan escapes your throat as his fingers part your folds and glide back and forth. You were sure that the security guards patrolling this floor would have heard you down the hallway. You almost miss his question over the sensations of pleasure spreading through your body.
“Do you want my finger inside you?”
You nod against his cheek and reach behind to clutch a fistful of his hair to brace for impact. He lowers his down until his thick, middle digit is nudging your opening. You must have been soaking his thighs with how easily his digit sinks inside. You bit your lip harshly to contain the sounds threatening to escape your mouth. It’s your turn to hold your breath when Miguel’s other hand begins to stroke your clit. Once, twice, thrice.
When he speaks, his voice is hoarse. “You clench around my finger every time I flick your clit.”
Not that you needed proof, but Miguel does it again and you shake with pleasure. “See?” he gasps, and captures your lips in a sloppy kiss.
He he pulls back to hold your eyes and you breathe his shaky breaths in. You close your eyes and imagine how it would look to hold his hard cock in your hands while he played with your pussy. He tears you away from your fantasy by hooking his fingers inside on an angle. You almost arch completely off his lap. He moves his free hand away from your clit and presses you back into him. His hard bulge pressed into your ass.
“Here?” Miguel moans and licks your lips. “Tell me where? Right here? Ah, here.”
His fingers find that spot again and he massages his fingers against it. You nod furiously and my hands move to claw forearms. He softly bites your shoulder in retaliation and his free hand resumes working against your clit, picking up rhythm. “Can I put another finger inside?” he asks, breathing hard. “I promise it will feel good.”
“Oh-kay,” you gasp, rocking your hips on his hand.
His index finger slithers into your pussy, and you forget how to speak. You begin to twist and turn in his lap. He pulls away from your clit to press down hard against your stomach so he can keep you in place. You slide your ass over his crotch with every movement of his fingers.
“Mig-Mig-Mig,” you pant, moving your hips to his set rhythm.
“Good? I bet that feels so good.”
“Gah—”
He presses soft kisses onto your cheek as you sink into his arms. You begin to tighten further around him. You realize that this is exactly how you always want to be—full of Miguel’s fingers, touch, and love. His tongue slips into your mouth as his fingers begin curling into you faster. Your moans and groans echo through the office. His left hand leaves your stomach and reaches for your clit again. It takes seven swipes, one for each day he left you alone, for you to seize around his finger. His mouth never leaves yours as he drinks all of your pleasurable cries.
Slowly, the current leaves your body and you’re able to take in your surround. Your cheeks burn with realization. Miguel had just fingered you open on his desk at your workplace. The very same desk you set up for him every morning. Your fingers slide up to his hair and you hide your face in the crook of his neck. “Don’t be shy now,” he chuckles, “One day I’ll fuck you all over this office, nena.”
You shriek and lightly slap his arm. Miguel gently slides his fingers out of your cunt, eliciting a soft groan, and brings his to his mouth.
He hums with eyes closed at the taste. “You taste so good,” he mumbles around his fingers.
“Ugh,” Lyla gags at a distance. “Be glad I activated noise cancellation.”
A/N: Thoughts?
#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara smut#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel ohara#spider-man 2099#angst#migurl o'hara angst#spider man: across the spider verse#miguel o'hara fic#spiderman#miguel o'hara x you#miguel o'hara x y/n#miguel o'hara x f!reader#miguel o'hara x female reader#atsv#miguel spiderverse#spiderverse#my fic#fic rec#my post#miguel o'hara spice#miguel o'hara headcanons#miguel o'hara fluff
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Smile For Me
Hi, @supermarvel-fics! I'm your squealing Santa this year. It's my first time writing for the Scream series, but I really hope this fic is to your liking. I'm a big fan of the series myself :D. I hope you have a great holiday season and a wonderful 2024!
Word Count- 2,169.
Warnings- Swearing, mentions of death, and tickling.
Fandom- Scream (1996).
Pairing- Stu Macher x Reader (Friends to lovers- two characters falling in love and character A finds out character B is ticklish (ends in kissing and confessing) Characters are both 18 in this fic.
It’s been a string of dark days for Woodsboro, California, as the Ghostface attacks ravage the town. Stu distracts you from your worries by inviting you over to his place. What was supposed to be a chill night of movies turned into playful tickling and heartfelt confessions.
Diiiiing!
High school didn’t usually dismiss at 9:00am. You didn’t crawl out of the warmth of your bed for two hours of instruction. But, these weren’t usual times.
A killer was on the loose. People were going missing, lives were being lost. Woodsboro High couldn’t keep you safe. So, they sent everyone home with a strict curfew to be enforced in the evening.
Even in a crowd, you felt afraid. Ghostface could be anywhere. He could strike at any time. You didn’t even bother going to your locker. Instead, you were one of the first students in the hall, holding your backpack strap in a death grip.
You walked as fast as your feet could take you. But, someone behind you was faster.
Unlike you, Stu was thrilled to have a siesta from school. He burst out of his boring history class with a huge grin. He scanned the crowd for you and, when he saw you, he pushed his way forward.
“(Y/N!)
In the commotion of the busy hallway, you didn’t hear him approach. So, when two strong arms hoisted you into the air, you screamed.
“No, NO! Let me go!” Your limbs took on a mind of their own, flailing about violently. If Ghostface was gonna take you out, he’d have a fight on his hands. Stu yelped and, after getting clocked in the jaw, he immediately put you back down.
“Hey, HEY! It’s just me!” Stu wailed. He rubbed his jaw, wincing. “Fuck, that hurt…”
You sighed an exasperated sigh. “Damn it, Stu.” You stepped towards him, closing the gap, and tenderly put a hand on his jaw. “You scared the hell outta me. I’m sorry.”
For a moment, Stu’s eyes softened. The two of you had been friends since elementary school, and it wasn’t really a secret that he adored you. He made an agreement with Billy that they weren’t allowed to hurt you. Ever. You were his calm in the storm that he and Billy were bringing to Woodsboro.
And, for you, Stu was your light in the darkness. The Ghostface attacks had you on edge. You hadn’t been sleeping well, lacked focus in class, and constantly looked over your shoulder. A part of you wished that Stu took the ordeal more seriously. But, a larger part of you was grateful that he still found ways to make you smile. He leaned into your hand and gave you a little pout.
“Sorry enough to come by my place tonight?” Stu’s pout turned into a bright, hopeful grin. “My parents won’t be home, and Randy hooked me up with some killer movies. All that’s missing is you~.”
He ended his statement with a poke to your nose. You smiled, playfully batting his hand away. Then, you released his jaw and sighed.
“I don’t know, Stu. I’m tired.” You replied. Then, as if on cue, you yawned deeply. “I haven’t been able to sleep because of, well, ya know.”
Stu nodded. But then, he gave you another bright smile, leaning his taller frame towards you. “That’s exactly why you should come over! Ghostface’s got nothing on me.” He bragged and flexed his muscles. “Look, I’m so buff, I’ll totally protect you, (Y/N).”
You regarded him with a smirk. Then, you reached up to feel his bicep. Stu gasped and made a dramatic show of leaning into you. You tried to hold him up, but he was too heavy, and he nearly made you fall. You yelped and stumbled back into a nearby locker, scolding him without malice.
“Stuhu!” You laughed and grabbed onto both of his arms to keep yourself upright. Stu snickered and hovered over you. He gently shook your hands off of his arms and took them into his own. He squeezed them affectionately, thumbs rubbing the top of your hands, and his blue eyes gazed into yours.
“Let me protect you, alright?” He asked softly. You froze and held his gaze. There was a sudden warmth in his eyes, and you felt your cheeks heating up. After a beat, you nodded.
“Alright, if you really promise to protect me.”
Although the safety of your home comforted you, you needed a distraction. And, Stu seemed happy to deliver. Stu confirmed this with a wide grin.
“Awesome!” Stu cheered. He suddenly scooped you up, making you squeal, and carried you through the crowds. Once out of the school, he put you down, patting your back. “Come by at six tonight. Oh! And bring food! Can’t have a movie night without food.”
You smoothed out your clothes, returning his grin. Honestly, he could’ve gotten lost in that smile. “I’ll bring the best of Woodsboro’s culinary delights. You can count on it.”
Stu whooped and did a fist pump. Then, with another laugh, the two of you parted ways.
Burgers, fries, and sodas spelled the perfect night-in for you. Stu’s house wasn’t too far from yours, but your older brother insisted on dropping you off. You waved goodbye as he pulled off and carried the food to Stu’s door. You had to put the sodas down to knock on the door. Seconds later, the door opened, and Stu greeted you with a huge grin.
“There you are! Right on time.” He gave you a quick hug and helped you bring the food in. Once inside his home, you felt your shoulders drop. You’d been over his home so many times, it brought you a sense of peace. A rarity in the current state of Woodsboro. You followed him to the living room and set the bags down. He did the same. Then, he turned to you, playfully pushing you back onto the couch.
“HEY!” You caught yourself with your hands, snickering. Stu flopped beside you, and you lightly shoved his shoulder. “That’s how you treat someone who brought you food?”
Stu chuckled and cozied up to you, putting his head on your arm. “Maybe.” He smirked. He reached forward to grab the remote and his fries. “Now, shhh! The movie’s starting.”
You rolled your eyes, but otherwise relented.
Stu picked out a scary movie for the two of you to watch. His head was still resting on your arm and, despite your best efforts, you flinched at the jump scares. You shielded your eyes from any more scares, and Stu looked up at you curiously. He smiled.
“D’aww, you’re kinda cute when you’re afraid.” He cooed. He poked your cheek, snickering as you reeled away from him.
“Cut it out, I’m not cute.” You argued, keeping your eyes shielded. You moved your hands when you felt him shift under you. He sat straight up, suddenly poking your side. You slammed your arm to protect the area. “Aha! Stu!”
“I don’t know,” he mused, now harboring a playful glint in his eye. “That’s the cutest little giggle I’ve ever heard. And you know what?”
You didn’t respond, but when you felt the couch cushion dip, you jumped to your feet out of instinct. Just in time too, because Stu had scooted closer to you, wriggling his fingers in the air. You giggled nervously, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “Stu, don’t you dare-”
“Oh, I dare, (Y/N)!” He grinned mischievously. He made the conscious effort not to dip into his Ghostface voice. “I wanna hear that adorable giggle again.”
He shot up from his seat and lunged towards you. You yelped and narrowly dodged him. You ran behind the couch for cover and tried to run around it. But, Stu mirrored your movements, moving left and right with you respectively. “Where ya goin’~?”
“I’m gonna kill youhu-” You snickered and made the last minute decision to grab a pillow for self-defense. Stu’s eyes widened and, after a dramatic gasp, he covered his mouth with both hands.
“You’re gonna kill me? With a pillow? Oh my god, have mercy!” Stu pretended to sound terrified. Then, he suddenly vaulted over the couch, easily ripping the pillow from your hands. “I don’t respond well to threats! Now, you’re gonna get it!”
You screamed and took off running. Stu’s grin widened; he loved a good chase. He stayed hot on your tail and chased you through the house. He easily caught up with you and, just before you could book it upstairs, he wrapped both of his arms around your waist. He dragged you back to the couch and tossed you onto it.
“Baaad move, (Y/N)! You don’t run upstairs when someone’s chasing you!” He playfully chastised. He straddled your waist and poked at random spots on your torso. You squealed and bucked your hips, giggling frantically. “Haven’t you watched any movies?”
“Nohohoho!” You whined and wrestled with his hands. You managed to get a couple of pinches on his sides, making him squeal, but he was faster and stronger than you. He gathered your wrists into one hand, holding them above your head. Then, with his free hand, he alternated pinches along your hips. You arched your back and giggled harder. “Thihihis isn’t fuhuhuhny! Lehehet me gohoho!”
“Nope! No can do, I’ve gotta have those cute (Y/N) giggles.” Stu snickered and suddenly reached up to spider his nails along your neck. “Give ‘em to me!”
You yelled and scrunched your neck. “NOHahahaha! Stuhuhu stahaha!” You protested and whipped your head around, trying to avoid his fingers. After a couple more scratches, his hand found your side, and he squeezed at it rapidly. You arched your back again. “STUHUHU!”
“(Y/N)~” He responded in a singsong voice. He scritched across your stomach to get to your other side. “Poor baby, does it tickle?”
“Yehehehes!” You whined and fell deeper into your giggle fit. “Plehehehehease stohohohop!”
“But I haven’t even tickled your armpits yet!” Stu argued. Your eyes widened and you looked up at him, only to be met with a smug grin. “What? That wouldn’t be a bad spot, would it?”
“NO! Not there, Stu, plehehehease!” You started giggling again when he poked and prodded up your side. You squirmed, trying to roll away from you, but his weight on top of you kept you pinned to the cushions. “Plehehease nohohot thehehere!”
Stu smirked up at you, teasing your rib cage with his blunt nails. That was your second worst spot; you squirmed around more violently, gasping in between giggles.
“Here I come, (Y/N)...” Stu taunted. He pinched at the spaces in between your ribs, earning short barks of laughter. “I’m gonna get you..”
You shook your head back and forth, laughing harder as he kept moving up. “Nahahaha dohohon’t!”
Stu’s eyes sparkled with mischief. Would you fall for one of the oldest tricks in the book?
“Don’t what?” He asked, leaning down to nuzzle into your neck. You snorted and pushed your head against his, making him chuckle. “Hmm~? Don’t what, buddy?”
“Tihihihihickle mehehehehe!”
No way. Stu switched to the other side of your neck to nuzzle. You pinched your eyes shut, now full-on laughing. “Well,” he breathed into your skin, making you laugh harder. “If you insist!”
Stu let go of your wrists and, in one fluid motion, plunged his wiggling fingers under your arms. You screamed and slammed your arms against your sides, which trapped his hands in place.
“NOHAHAHA GEHEHEHT OHOHOFF OF MEHEHEHE!” You kicked your legs against the couch, your loud laughter filling up every corner of the room. “PLEHEHEHASE!”
“Listen to you, listen to that pretty laugh!” Stu laughed along with you and drilled his thumbs into your armpits. You squeezed your arms against your sides even more, falling deeper into a pit of laughter. “You’re such a cutie. Tickle, tickle, tickle, cutie pie.”
You blushed and writhed under him, laughing yourself silly. While tickling your armpits, Stu returned to nuzzling your neck. He blew quick raspberries into it when he felt especially mischievous. As much as you kicked and laughed, you weren’t going anywhere. It was the raspberries that pushed you into hiccupy laughter, and after one more raspberry, Stu stopped tickling you.
You breathed heavily. Ticklish sensations still plagued you, so you were still very giggly. “Youhu’re suhuhch an ahahashole.”
Stu laughed. “You don’t mean that. You love me!” His eyes softened again as he looked at you; disheveled hair, a wide smile, those beautiful (e/c) eyes. “Right? Cause I’ve definitely got a thing for you, (Y/N).”
You looked up at him with wide eyes. Your face spelled surprise, but somewhere in your heart, you already knew. “Really?”
Stu climbed off of you so that you could sit up. “Hell yeah, I do.” He repeated, patting a spot beside him. You obliged by scooting beside him, so that you were pressed against him. “Want me to prove it?”
That’s what you needed. Proof. Something sweet to seal the deal. You nodded. Then, wrapping an arm around you, he leaned down to kiss your lips. Deeply.
You leaned up into that kiss and smiled. Stu smiled too. He’d kill to keep that smile on your face.
#scream 1996#stu macher#stu macher x reader#squealing santa 2k23#ss2k23#scream tickle#lee!reader#ler!stumacher
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Little Bit Better Than I Used To Be
Catch up: Chapter 1 (Starry Eyes) || Chapter 2 (Save Our Souls) || Chapter 3 (Dancing On Glass)|| Chapter 4 (Merry-Go-Round)|| Backstage (1) || Backstage (2) || Chapter 5 (Danger)|| Backstage (3) || Chapter 6A (Love Walked In) || Chapter 6B (Without You) || Backstage (4) || Chapter 7 (Stick To Your Guns) || Chapter 8 (Time For Change) || Backstage (5) || Chapter 9 (Take Me To The Top) || Backstage (6) || Chapter 10 (Home Sweet Home) || Backstage (7) || Chapter 11a (Nightrain) || Chapter 11b (Nothing Else Matters) || Chapter 12a (Handle With Care) || Chapter 12b (I’m So Tired of Being Lonely) || Chapter 13a (Angel) || Chapter 13b (She’s My Addiction) || Chapter 13c (Patience) || Chapter 14a (Where Do We Go Now?) || Chapter 14b (Where Do We Go Now?) || Chapter 14c (Where Do We Go Now?) || Chapter 15a (Dreams) || Chapter 15b (I Sing A Song of Love) || Chapter 15c (You Can Do This If You Try) || Chapter 16 (Let That Feeling Grab You Deep Inside || Chapter 17A: Never Tear Us Apart || Chapter 17B: It’s Tough To Be Somebody, And It’s Hard Not To Fall Apart || Chapter 17C: I’m Wishing, Lord, That I Was Stoned || Chapter 18: Turn The Page || Chapter 19A: When You’re Alone, Do You Let Go? || Chapter 19B: Heading For A Spin || Chapter 20A: I Don’t Need Nothing When I’m By Your Side || Chapter 20B: I’m Walkin’ Down This Rocky Road || Chapter 20C: You’re The Only One Who Gets Through To Me || Chapter 20D: Together We Can Make It A Dream || Chapter 20E: My Main Objective Is To Get You To Turn Your Mind Around ||| Also posted at AO3
Chapter 20F: Heaven Isn't Too Far Away
I don't need to be a superman
As long as you will always be my biggest fan…
-- “Heaven,” Warrant (1989) [click here to listen]
North Carolina || March 1989
“I’m sorry that I’ll miss you in L.A., but I’m really glad you’re going out there. for the rehearsals. Especially since you won’t be making it to Europe.”
Jenny Fraser Murray sighed into the phone. “I’m torn, Claire. On the one hand I’ll be so happy to have a few days away from the kids – Ian’s mom is a godsend. But on the other hand I don’t want to be away from them for even a minute.”
“Ian will be happy to have you to himself, though.”
Claire heard Jenny smile through the phone. “He said it will be like old times. When we were dating, and we’d sneak off behind the amps to make out before a gig.” She paused. “Something you and my brother probably do all the time now.”
Claire smiled. “When we’re together, yeah.”
“I was really surprised when Jamie told me you weren’t going out to L.A. Is this the longest you’ve been apart?”
“Yeah.” Claire twirled the long telephone cord around her wrist. “I’m not going to lie, Jenny, it’s been incredibly hard to be away from him for so long. But at the same time, it’s been really helpful.”
“How so?”
“Just…it gets intense with him. And as much as I love him, and as much as I know he loves me, we both needed the time to breathe.”
“I hear you. So what have you been up to this week?”
Claire leaned back in her chair. “There’s a clinic in town – I got in touch with them right after we moved in, and I’ve been going in every day to volunteer. Just a few hours, helping out with some of the walk-in patients. Cuts, burns, broken bones – lighter stuff.”
“Sorry. One sec.” Jenny’s voice was muffled over the phone, but Claire could still understand the words Maggie and share and your brother. Clearly the Murray kids were giving their mom a run for her money today.
“That sounds like fun, Claire. Or your idea of fun, anyway.”
“It feels so good to be a doctor again, Jenny. It’s a far cry from surgery, but – ”
“But it’s something. Something you’re good at, that you enjoy. And it’s something that’s all yours.”
“Exactly. When we get back from Europe, I want to do something more permanent at the clinic. I spoke to the woman who runs it – they’re definitely open to it. I told them everything about my past, and my license – they’re willing to work with me.”
“That’s awesome.” The line clicked. “Ah – Claire, I’ve been waiting for Ian all morning. This is probably him. I’ll call you later, OK?”
“OK. Say hello to him and the kids for me. Talk you soon.”
“Take care of yourself, sister.”
Jenny hung up.
Claire glowed a bit. Glanced up at the clock on the wall, and crossed the kitchen to make some tea.
Ten minutes later, snug on the couch that was one of the only pieces of furniture Jamie had shipped from his old house in LA, Claire dialed a 212 number on the touch-tone phone, set the receiver on the arm of the couch, and pressed the speakerphone button.
“Dr. Germain’s office. Jeanne speaking.”
“Hi Jeanne – it’s Claire.”
“Hello, Claire! Right on time, as always. I’ll transfer you over.”
A few clicks on the line, and then –
“Good afternoon, Claire!” Raymond’s voice boomed through the telephone. “Did you make it to the clinic after we spoke this morning?”
“I did!” She sipped her tea, tucking bare feet under her folded legs. “Three hours have never flown by so fast.”
“That’s wonderful. Are you still open to what I suggested in our session this morning?”
“I am. He’s not on yet, is he?”
This was the second week that Jamie, Claire, and Raymond had held their daily sessions – via telephone while Claire was home in North Carolina, Jamie was with the band in Los Angeles, and Raymond at his office in New York. Raymond had recommended they start meeting during Jamie and Claire’s time away from each other – and to help them all get comfortable working together before the Europe tour kicked off in a few weeks.
Speaking over the telephone was not as ideal as being in person – but it helped them all get into the new routine. Raymond met individually with Jamie and Claire each morning, followed by a group session in the afternoon. Claire and Jamie spoke with each other outside of their time with Raymond, of course – Claire called Jamie’s hotel room as his wake up call every morning, he spoke with her before bed every night – but the conversations with Raymond were different. Focusing on topics that were deeper than Jamie telling Claire about rehearsals or meetings with the label, and Claire telling Jamie about a patient’s antics at the clinic or how she had finally gotten around to staining the bedside table they’d picked up at a garage sale.
Raymond had approached working together in a very pragmatic way. He struck a balance between getting to know one another and probing deeper on certain topics – after all, there were many things that Jamie and Claire still didn’t know about each other. But there was no timetable – Raymond insisted they work at their own pace, because the real work would happen once they were in Europe.
Claire and Jamie actually looked forward to their time with Raymond. It helped them focus on themselves, and on each other, in a new and refreshing way. It bridged the thousands of miles between them, during their time away from each other. And having that separation – together with the telephone, and not needing to look at each other to speak – was indeed a good opportunity to explore some topics.
“I’m here. Hi, Claire.”
“Jamie,” she smiled. “Where are you?”
“I’m at the label’s office. Colum dragged me here to meet with the suits. I said yes, as long as I could get lunch delivered and an office for an hour. So excuse me if you hear some chewing.”
“What’s for lunch?” Raymond’s voice crackled through the line.
“In-N-Out. My favorite, a double double with a chocolate shake. Claire, the more I’m here, the more I don’t miss being in L.A. But this…this I miss.”
“Well, as your doctor,” she teased, “I’m also grateful for your arteries that we don’t eat that kind of food at home.”
Jamie snorted. “So what did you do at the clinic today?”
“Splinted a broken thumb and stitched up a gash on a little boy’s head.”
“You sound like you’re smiling. I love that it makes you happy, but I’ll never understand why.”
“If I may,” Raymond interjected, “there’s a little more to it than making Claire happy. She and I explored that this morning.”
“Yeah.” Claire sipped her tea. “You’re right, Jamie – it does make me happy. It makes me happy because I enjoy doing it. But more than that, it gives me a sense of purpose. I’m helping people, I’m making a difference.”
“And?” Raymond prodded gently.
Claire pursed her lips. “And, it’s something that’s only mine.”
The line was silent for a long moment.
“Jamie?” she asked gently.
“You mean, something that’s separate from our life together, Claire?”
“Jamie,” Raymond responded, “if you’re thinking that this is something meant to replace you, or any aspect of your relationship…trust me when I say it’s not. When Claire and I spoke about this earlier today, she made it clear that that’s certainly not the case. It’s a way for her to build her own identity, as Dr. Claire Fraser. Because she’s left behind who Dr. Claire Beauchamp was – the surgeon and pill addict. And she’s also built an identity as Claire Fraser – wife to Jamie Fraser.”
“And I love being Claire Fraser, Jamie. I do. God, I wish I could hold your hand right now.” She sighed. “But I need to find out who Dr. Claire Fraser is. In my time at the clinic, I’ve started doing that. And I’m still tied to you. I wear your letter and your ring on my hand, and your name on my driver’s license and my heart. This is…just…more than all of that. There’s room for more.”
Still Jamie remained silent. Claire’s heart began to race.
But Raymond let the silence stretch.
“Jamie…” he finally interjected after a while. “Do you want Claire to keep exploring this side of who she is? Who she could be?”
“Of course,” Jamie replied instantly. “I want nothing more than for Claire to be happy, and for her to be who she’s meant to be. She’s meant to be a doctor. She’s known that since she was a little girl, and that’s so awesome she knows that about herself. I still don’t know who I want to be.” He paused, chewing. “And I know that she’s also meant to be with me, to be my wife. That’s another part of who she is. Am I right, Claire? I’m not off base?”
“You’re right,” she said softly.
“OK. So – I know that she’s a doctor, and she’s my wife. I also know that there’s a huge part of her, that she hasn’t been able to grow for the entire time we’ve known each other. We’ve focused so much on our…our love, and our sobriety, and my music. But now I see that that’s been at the expense of other things. Like, her being a doctor. And I honestly feel kind of terrible that while I’ve been recording new music and touring and performing and dealing with my own shit, that’s all taken over and hasn’t given her the space to explore and grow.”
“That’s one way to look at it, Jamie.” Raymond’s voice was so focused, and Claire pictured him scribbling in his notebook. “But you can’t beat yourself up over it. Does what Jamie said, resonate with you, Claire?”
She rested her head on her arms, folded on the arm of the couch. “It does and it doesn’t, Raymond. Yes, I stepped away from medicine while I was getting clean, and then it was more important to me to figure out how to be with Jamie, and then get used to life on the road, and focus on my marriage. So I decided to push medicine to the background. To support Jamie in the way he needed, the last tour. I made that choice. Jamie didn’t force it on me – I would have said something if it wasn’t what I wanted. And now, I’m choosing to grow this side of myself again.”
“I don’t ever want you to think that I don’t support anything you want to do, Claire,” Jamie said softly.
“I don’t ever even think of that, Jamie. And if I did, I’d tell you.”
“I hope you would. I wouldn’t ever want that to be a misunderstanding between us. I will support whatever you want to do, you know that, right?”
“That’s a good segue way,” Raymond spoke softly.
Claire cleared her throat. “I’m glad you’re with Colum today, Jamie, because I’d like you to ask him something for me, for the tour.”
“Okay…he already agreed to have a doctor on standby, you know. If we get pregnant.”
“I know. I love that you did that for us, Jamie. But this is something new. When we’re in Europe, I’d like to find a way to volunteer at local clinics wherever we are. To spend time doing that in every city. I know that it won’t always be possible, of course – but I want to give back, when I’m on the road. I don’t want to just stop when we leave North Carolina – I want to keep going. I want to keep exploring this side of myself. And I know that everywhere we go, there will be people who need my help.”
“I would love for you to do that, Claire.” She could see him grinning. “God I wish I could hold you right now, so tight. I want you to do this. This is fucking awesome.”
She swallowed. “I miss you so much, Jamie. I love you, and I love being with you, and I can’t wait to be with you on tour. But I need to have something consistent that’s my own. I can’t be with you all of the time. And this helps me to do that.”
“Fuck yeah. I want this for you. Think of how cool it will be.”
“Yeah!” she grinned ear to ear. “And even if I’m pregnant, I can still do it. For a time, anyway.”
“I’ll speak to Colum about it today. The label or the local promoters have got to have connections. And I don’t want there to be any publicity. I don’t want people to think you’re doing this for the PR.”
“And you’d be OK, Jamie, with Claire being away from you during the day?”
“Yeah, Doc. Um…being here in LA without her, I’m more comfortable saying that now.”
“Versus before you left?”
“Yeah. I – Claire, I love you so much, but we were spending too much time together. It was…suffocating.” He paused, clearly uncomfortable with silence on the line. “Baby, talk to me. Fuck, I hate that I can’t see you. Talk to me. Does that make sense to you, what I said?”
“Yeah.” She sighed. “I get it, Jamie. I love you so much. I want to be with you all the time, but it’s not healthy.”
“Raymond, does that make sense?” Jamie’s voice was rushed, almost panicked. “Am I making sense? That I want to be with Claire all the time but I know that’s not a good thing?”
“It does, Jamie, and you are. You didn’t mention this to me before – is this something you’re only realizing now, in this conversation?”
“Umm…yes and no. I mean, I miss Claire so much right now that it actually hurts. But it’s been so fucking great to be here with the band. Angus’ girlfriends are out of town, so we’ve been spending a lot of time together, just me and Ian and Angus. And Colum, too. It’s been so much fun. I’ve been so busy. Almost too busy to think of anything else.”
“So – those fears we talked about during my visit. That without Claire beside you, you’d somehow fall back into addiction. That you needed her as your anchor, your constant reminder to stay sober. Do you still feel that way?”
“A little bit. But it’s not a big fear front and center every moment of the day. I mean, it sucks to come back to an empty hotel room, and it’s hard for me to sleep alone, but I know that’s temporary. And, I know that on the Europe tour I’ll be very busy during the day, probably more than I was the last tour. So even if Claire was with me all those hours, it’s not like I could really do anything with her during that time. I’ll be busy, and it’s not fair to her to just sit around without me. She can use that time more productively. Like volunteering at local clinics.”
“Good. I know that it was really difficult for you to fly out there on your own, and I’m glad you called me before you left for the trip, too, because I think we’ll all agree that you staved off a panic attack by doing that. But now that you’re there, do you understand why I had recommended you spend some time apart?”
“Yeah. Claire, did you understand from the beginning?”
“I did. But that doesn’t matter, Jamie. What matters now is that you understand. And that we have a new plan for Europe.”
“I love you so fucking much, Claire. I need you, baby. I can’t wait to see you again.”
She blew a kiss through the phone.
Jamie coughed. “Um, Claire? I need to tell you something.”
“Are you all right?” Raymond cautiously asked, after about thirty seconds of silence on the line.
“Um…yeah. I got another tattoo.”
“O..kay…” Claire replied.
“Was this planned, or impulse?” Raymond asked gently.
“Um…I’ve been thinking about it for a while, and I knew what I wanted, but I decided a bit last minute.”
“I see.” Claire spoke slowly. “What is it, and where is it?”
“It’s the outline of the state of North Carolina. On my left arm.”
Claire couldn’t help but smile. “Where? In that space between the koi fish and your mom’s name?”
Raymond chuckled. “The two of you, I swear.”
Jamie laughed. Free. “Yeah, Claire. I don’t even want to know how you guessed that.”
“What can I say,” she laughed. “The perks of being a rock star’s personal physician.”
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