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satoruxx · 4 months

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pairing: gojo satoru x reader | 1.2k words summary: shoko-centric, as in it’s written from her pov, based on yesterday’s leaks bc i finally have some hope, simple bittersweet angst to fluff !! he’s coming back trust <3

shoko’s eyes are focused as she works, but they can’t help but drift towards you, taking in your expression—half hopeful and half terrified as you watch her hands critically.

your teeth are digging into your bottom lip— worrying the flesh with bites and nips that are sure to eventually draw blood.

she wants to click her tongue and rub your shoulder in the hopes that you’ll stop looking so stressed. but she understands—after all, her hands are occupied with the most important thing in your world.

satoru’s body has begun regenerating on its own—as shoko had expected when he was brought back to her. her body had clicked into autopilot when that blue haired kid handed him off to her, her brain choosing to ignoring the overwhelming sense of relief that washed over her when she saw him pulled away from that death field.

so she could only imagine your feelings in this moment—scared, angry, and yet so hopeful.

because that’s what gojo satoru was to everyone—an embodiment of hope. he had been as such for so many years. she has no doubt that even in death he would be the same.

but despite all that, she wants the blue eyed idiot to wake up already—wants to see his lopsided grin and your relieved face when the two of you look at each other. so all she does is continue to work, because that’s what she’s good at—what she’s always been good at.

working in the shadows.

you don’t say anything to her—you’ve known her long enough not to. shoko thinks back to the thousands of times she’s healed you up after missions, thinks of your sheepish grin when she scolded you for being careless out there. you’ve always been careless about yourself.

she thinks you’ve only ever been truly concerned when satoru was the one who was in trouble.

the two of you were idiots—because while the two of you may not give a shit about your own safety, shoko constantly worried about you both.

so she inhales through her nose, keeping her eyes trained on satoru’s body. “he’ll be fine,” she says, voice steadily echoing around the room. she can feel your eyes on her, feel the studying gaze of them, and oddly enough she relaxes under it.

something so familiar about this all.

she hears you sigh, a nod to her statement, and shoko takes it as a sign of agreement.

it has always been this way with the three of you—too many words unnecessary. at one point in time, it used to be that way among the four of you too.

shoko doesn’t know how much time passes. all she can focus on is the energy flowing from her hands to satoru’s battered body and your rapidly steadying breaths. the silence is not unwelcoming—an odd comfort in the midst of the chaos raging not so far away.

something tilts on its axis when his eyes finally open.

shoko feels like her breath has gone cold, settling low in her chest as she watches him sit up. there’s a brief moment of confusion in his face—eyes hazy as he looks at her. she gives him a pointed stare, not trying to betray her emotions, but the expression is enough for satoru to understand that he wasn’t supposed to be here. the haziness in his eyes clear, and shoko thinks she might be hallucinating because he looks almost apologetic.

and then, his gaze travels past her, to the back corner, and when they land on you shoko can see the puzzle pieces click together. his pupils dilate, lips parting in a sharp inhale as everything finally comes back to him.

you choke back a sob—a sound so pained and shoko almost feels as though it’s cut through her flesh. satoru’s eyes are wild, arms reaching for you before his brain can even catch up. he pulls you against him with reckless abandon, your body folding into his like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

which, shoko understands, it is.

your arms are tight around satoru’s midsection, head buried into his chest—as though if you let him go he’ll slip away all over again. shoko doesn’t blame you—she doesn’t take her eyes off of him for the exact same reason.

satoru’s fingers remain tangled in your hair—a tremor to them that only the most observant eyes can pick up.

your shoulders shake with the effort of holding back a plethora of emotions that shoko both understands and doesn’t. satoru’s hands smooth down your hair, chest heaving as he shuts his eyes and presses his nose to your temple.

it’s an embrace that shoko is almost proud to see—a reunion that she’s grateful to be privy to.

satoru pulls back a little, hands cupping your face as his eyes dart over your features—wild and bright with life.

“‘m sorry—” he’s saying, voice oddly steady for the way his fingertips are trembling against your skin. “i didn’t—i thought—fuck, ‘m so sorry, sweets—”

“you came back.” you’re whispering, voice unsteady and thick with unfiltered longing. you pull him back into a hug. “thank god. you came back.”

satoru’s arms tighten around you imperceptibly. a featherlight kiss dusts your forehead—barely a touch but there all the same.

shoko smothers an amused huff. it’s about time.

your voice is shaking even with your cheek pressed against his chest. “i thought that you—”

satoru nods against your temple. “i did,” he answers, licking at his dry lips. “i mean—”

a sharp inhale. you pull back to study his face. satoru’s voice becomes imperceptibly softer. “i saw…”

shoko doesn’t need to ask what he saw—she knows it automatically. you seem to know it too.

“it’s fine.” he’s shaking his head, lips quirking upward—his thumb brushes over the slope of your cheek with the utmost care. “it doesn’t matter.”

you give him a rueful smile, eyes uncharacteristically dewy, and shoko thanks her lucky stars that the expression seems to bother satoru just as much as it bothers her. she watches him cup your face, leaning his forehead against yours with an oddly somber sigh. your fingers come up to press against his knuckles, and satoru smiles, eyes fluttering at the touch.

shoko sees the color slowly start seeping back into his skin, an all familiar flush dusting his cheeks as he looks down at you, and her shoulders drop—a weight lifting.

she takes a step back.

satoru makes eyes contact with her over your head. there’s something there, deep within cerulean blue, that has shoko’s body finally relaxing. he studies her, eyes wide and open, and for the first time in a long time, she sees the message in them clearly.

his lips curl upward at her, an expression so nostalgic it makes shoko think she can hear the sound of teenage laughter—a gentle voice whispering about the good and bad of their lives. she shuts her eyes—helpless.

satoru watches her expression, somehow understanding, and he smiles to himself. his chin tips down at her, an acknowledgment of sorts, that has her feeling oddly emotional.

shoko shoves her hands in her pockets, and for the first time in a while, she allows herself to smile.

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moonstruckme · 17 days

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Hey !

So I've just come out of a week with an absolutely awful cold where I lost my voice and it was absolutely exhausting.

So, if you'd like I wanted to request a poly!marauders x sick reader with fluff and coddling when reader lost her voice and they're being overprotective and soft . Maybe emt!marauders? As you'd like ✨️

Thank you 💕 🌸

Ugh hope you feel better soon my love <3

modern au

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 915 words

Sirius’ thumb draws circles into the fat of your hip, your head heavy against his chest. You’re letting your cheek smush against the material of his shirt, your entire body lax with lethargy. You really feel mostly fine, but it’s difficult not to indulge in some self-pity when your boyfriends are treating you so tenderly.

“Are you tired, love?” Remus’ voice is low and dulcet, his eyes honey-colored in the afternoon light spilling through the window as he watches you from his chair.

“No,” you rasp. His eyebrows stitch together compassionately. “Just comfortable.”

You can very nearly feel the smugness emanating from Sirius at that. He kisses the top of your head, and Remus rolls his eyes at whatever face he’s made that you can’t see.

“Do you want to try to gargle some saltwater before you have your tea?” Remus asks.

You sigh, sinking further into Sirius’ side. “Maybe later.”

“Oh, sweetheart, please stop.” James hisses through his teeth as he carries in a steaming cup of tea. “It hurts me when you talk, you sound so awful.”

You shoot him a wry look—thanks—and Sirius grins.

“I think you sound dead sexy,” he whispers conspiratorially.

You laugh, and even that sounds warped and awful. “Yeah?” you say, reaching up for the tea as James passes it to you. Your voice squeaks, cracking horrifically. “Just like this?”

“Prick.” James sits down beside you on the couch, kicking halfheartedly at Sirius’ leg. “Don’t encourage her.”

You have to quell your giggling before you trust yourself to take a sip of your tea. It’s so sweet you think it might be half honey, not that you’re complaining; the effect is immediate relief for your raw throat. Remus unpauses the film you were watching, and James pulls one of your feet into his lap, massaging it like a stress ball through the material of your fuzzy sock. Sirius is still drawing heavy circles into your hip, and despite your claims of alertness, you’re well on your way to actually falling asleep when you notice Remus has turned subtly away from the TV and appears to be scrutinizing you.

“What?” you ask.

“Sweetheart,” James begs, his fingers tensing around your foot, “please.”

“You really won’t let me check your throat for strep?” Remus asks.

For James’ sake, you confine your response to a shake of your head.

“Why not?” he presses, fully turning his back on the film. “If it was strep, we could get you some medicine. I don’t like seeing you sick, dove.”

You send him a sorry little smile, but your answer hasn’t changed.

“Why don’t you let him just have a look?” James coaxes. Sirius’ free hand comes up, laying flat over your forehead as he checks again for a fever.

“Because it’s gross,” you say, and James winces but doesn’t complain, “and I think my breath must be awful. It’s only been a couple of days anyway.”

“It could be a lot longer if it is strep throat and you don’t treat it,” Remus points out.

James leans closer to you, beckoning. “Give me a breath, and I’ll let you know if it’s horrid.”

“No!” you lean away from him, laughing.

“Why not?”

“Bec—” Sirius takes the opportunity to get his index finger in your mouth, wedging it between your teeth.

“Sirius!” you squeak, all the s’s of his name reduced to vague shushing sounds. “What are you doing?”

James and Remus snicker at your lisping, but Sirius is the picture of cool composure, watching you steadily as you wrap your hand around his wrist. You give a tug, but he curls his finger around the inside of your bottom teeth and holds fast.

“I could sit like this all day,” he says, disgustingly proud of himself, “or you could let Remus check your throat for pesky little spots.”

You stare him down. The problem with Sirius is, he stares right back, and it’s difficult to feel very intimidating when you’ve got his finger sticking out of your mouth. He drops one eyelid in a wink. You’re loath to give into his smugness, but after a few seconds you roll your eyes. James takes your tea from you as Remus comes forward, getting out his phone light and stooping over you, and you allow Sirius to tip your mouth open.

“Ugh, rank!” he jokes, immune to the glare you send his way. Remus ignores you both, steadying himself with a hand at your jaw as he peers inside your mouth.

“Stick your tongue out, dove?” he requests, and you do, heat creeping up your neck. James squeezes your foot sympathetically.

“I think,” Remus says softly, brows furrowing as he looks a moment longer, “you’re in the clear.”

You let out a little cough, curling towards your chest as he steps away and James and Sirius cheer.

“Told you,” you can’t help but say, voice scraping.

“You were right, angel,” James indulges you, squeezing up the length of your calf. “So what does this mean?”

Remus shrugs. “That it’s probably not strep throat. Could be anything else, we likely won’t know unless it gets worse.”

“Steady diet of tea and honey?” Sirius asks gravely.

“Certainly,” James answers in the same serious tone. “And rest. Lots of rest. Probably shouldn’t move on her own.”

“So, business as usual,” you joke. Remus chuckles as Sirius stamps a kiss on the crown of your head.

“Smart girl,” he praises. “Glad the fever’s not gone to your head yet.”

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tacticaldiary · 8 months

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can you do a ghost x head doctor!reader? kind of that scenario where ghost is like, “i don’t want a regular plain nurse; i want reader 🙄” and reader is like, the head doctor of the medical wing or whatever, and doesn’t usually deal with regular military injuries, but puts up with ghost’s shit anyways? 😋

Superficial Wounds, Deep Devotion

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Genre: Fluff; Hurt/Comfort

"Need me to kiss it better?" She quips with a roll of her eyes.

"I'll take anything you prescribe." Comes the smooth answer. It draws out a snort of laughter from her as she turns around with the gauze.

"All you need is to stop scaring away the field medics." She steps in between his legs, wiping down the cut on his shoulder with disinfectant.

Masterlist

"Ghost?" Her head snaps up from the clipboard. "What's wrong with him?" She frowns, pushing down the bubbling panic in her chest.

"He's asking for you to treat him in room Q42."

"Is he bleeding?" The urgency itches just below her skin but her cool professionalism doesn't crack. She doesn't deal with superficial injuries, only the most complex cases. She's seen it all. Mangled faces, guts hanging out, disfigured bodies.

So the fact that they were asking for her-...

Wait.

"Is command asking me to see him?" She says slowly.

The soldier shakes his head. "No ma'am. It was a request from the Lieutenant himself."

She releases a slow exhale, relief tingling. "I'll see to it." She dismisses him with a wave, starting down the hall.

Simon had this...habit of seeking her out. It was a perk of his rank, she supposes, but she'd been the only one to treat him ever since they'd encountered each other way back when she was an on-site combat nurse.

It's impossible to forget seeing him for the first time. That skull mask of his was splattered blood red, a bullet wound in his shoulder as he sat on one of the dusty cots in the emergency tents they'd set up in the middle of the desert.

They'd just clicked.

She ended up treating him again after that, and that's when he started personally requesting her.

It hadn't taken long for the spark between them to explode into something intense and loving. He was the anchor to her stressful life, unshakable and a steady presence. She was his person, one of the only people he trusted with his injuries and his heart, the warmth that let him focus on being better.

Swinging open the door without knocking, the man in question sits there in all his glory in front of her.

Admittedly, the first she stares at is his chest. He's shirtless, a cut that she can tell is superficial and non-fatal from all the way by the door.

"You can come inside." His voice is amused and knowing, the bastard.

"Inviting me into my own house?" She swallows, but listens. The door is kicked shut behind her. The moment it's closed he tugs off his mask, the weary lines of his face much more prominent under the harsh fluorescent lighting of the room. "How was your op?" Stopping by the cot he's sitting on to press a quick kiss to his sweaty head, she breezes past him to the medical trolley nearby.

"Fine. Did what we had to." They both know he won't volunteer any more information. Just as she doesn't confide in him with every horrific injury she deals with, he doesn't expose her to the horrific things he has to do. A mutual withholding of information for the peace of mind of both parties.

"Thought you weren't due to come home until tomorrow. I was gonna meet you on the tarmac and everything."

"Surprise." He deadpans, making her snicker.

"You know, for the big bad Ghost you are, you sure need to cause such a fuss about a little cut." Gathering what she needs, she casts him a glance over her shoulder.

"Thought it was your job to make sure I was in the best state possible for deployment?"

She loves this back-and-forth they have. He does too, if the relaxed way he leans back on his arms is anything to go by. It had taken years and years to get to the place they are right now. Years of work, of communication and trust.

"It's my job to take care of the worst, highest profile cases."

"I'd say this is pretty urgent." This playful side of him came out when they were alone.

"Need me to kiss it better?" She quips with a roll of her eyes.

"I'll take anything you prescribe." Comes the smooth answer. It draws out a snort of laughter from her as she turns around with her spoils.

"Can I prescribe you to stop scaring away the field medics?" She steps in between his legs, wiping down the cut on his shoulder with disinfectant. He doesn't wince or cringe or even flinch at the burn, eyes fixed on her face as she works.

"I'm a Lieutenant, I can do what I want."

She pauses, raising an eyebrow. "Are you really pulling rank on me right now?"

He hums, sliding up to hold her hips, tugging her closer. "Don't seem to mind it when we're alone, love." A smirk tugs at his mouth when a flush creeps up the back of her neck. God, he loves that look on her.

"What's gotten into you?" Shaking her head but unable to push down a smile, she works on securing the gauze, taping it down. "Getting clingy, are we now?"

He...well he can't deny it. He doesn't want to tell her the reason for it either, even if she's subtly fishing for answers.

He'd been an inch away from getting shredded by flying shrapnel from a car bomb today.

If Gaz, quick-witted, sharp, Gaz hadn't yelled and yanked him to cover behind a brick wall he would've been embedded with scraps of metal and rusty nails.

Dead, as his namesake.

Ghost wasn't afraid of death. Ghost got up every day ready to not see the sunrise again. Ghost was a cold blooded machine ready to do whatever his orders were.

But Simon wanted to live.

Simon wanted to come home to her. Simon wanted the last thing he saw to be her smile. Simon selfishly wanted her more than any victory his rifle could earn him.

Ghost had been unfazed, Simon had realised the inevitability of the avoided consequence.

Lips press against his bare shoulder. Right, left, and then gently on the gauze. It brings him back to the present, his grip on her tightens for a moment. Her gaze is soft, knowing. Because of course it is. She's the only one who's been able to get into his head like this, been able to crack the code to thoughts he himself doesn't have the key for.

"Any of other glaringly dangerous injuries I need to take a look at?" His eyes follow the smooth line of her neck as she tilts her head towards him. He exhales, shifts, and pulls her closer without warning, banding a strong arm around her.

"Dunno. Think you might have to conduct a comprehensive examination."

She laughs against his lips and goes down with him when he shifts farther up the cot.

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(1/09/2023)

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li0nn3stuff · 1 month

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Aemond is a pervert for you

English is not my first language, be kind.

Modern!Aemond x fem!Reader

You are in a relationship with modern!Aemond

Warnings: male masturbation, smut, dubcon?

She was just laying there, next to him, sleeping soundly. Aemond knew she was sore and exhausted. His perfect girl. He knew she’s had a stressful week, but still, when he came home today, he found the table prepped with all of his favorite plates, cooked perfectly, she wore his favorite dress of hers, and she welcomed him with a big smile. There wasn’t really a reason for all of that, she said she just wanted to do something sweet for him. He felt his heart flutter, and all he did was take her face in his hands and kissed her deeply.

They ate dinner together, and just after dessert, he finally had his favorite meat, as he grabbed her by her hips and pulled her to sit on the edge of the table, as he sat back down on his chair, feisting between her legs, again and again. He made her cum four times like this, then he brought her in their bed, finally slipping his cock inside of her with a sigh of relief. He fucked her hard and fast, pushing her down the bed, praising her for being such a good girlfriend. She fell asleep right after everything. Even if her week had been stressful, she still managed to prepare this dinner just for him, and even if he reworded her enough, he still wanted more, even if he shouldn’t. He should respect her, and let her sleep peacefully, taking the rest she needed. He shouldn’t feel his cock swell just at the sight of her naked body, laying just beside him, so close to use and touch. Aemond took a deep breath, staring at her face as she laid on her side, facing him.

He caresses her face, drawing the shape of hers with his fingers, looking how sweet and innocent she looked. He passes his fingers on her lips, and she unconsciously parts them. Aemond takes a deep breath and he caresses her chin, nose, cheekbone, and her neck. His hand started drifting lower on his own accord, tracing the line of her shoulder and arm, quickly finding her soft, plump breast. His thumb brushes over her nipple, which immediately gets hard.

The sight of it just makes him grab her breast softly, feeling the weight of it in his hand as he slowly gropes it. He lets out a low grunt as his other hand drifts down to his cock, fisting it as he slowly moves his hand up and down. He looks at her beautiful face, remembering how her expression was contorted while he kept eating her out. He can still hear her pleadings as she cried out, begging him to slow down, that it was too much.

Fuck, he needed her.

He always needed her, he always needed to feel her. His hand clamps down tighter on his cock as his gaze drifts down to her thighs, her legs one over the other. He lets go of her breast, trailing his hand on her belly, down to her puffy cunt, where he slowly moves his thumb over her lips. She had so much struggle when she took him for the first time. His sweet girl wasn’t used to cocks as big as his. He smirked at the idea that whoever took her before him, wasn’t as big as him, and he couldn’t make her feel good as he could. It took time for her to accept him quickly, letting him thrust all inside immediately without keeping back in order to not hurt her. She still struggles today, but only if he doesn’t prepare her enough.

He stops and caresses her thighs. If she was so sore, he could have settled with just slipping his cock between her thighs.

No, he wouldn’t.

He would have never been able to settle, not when his heaven was just right there. How her walls squeeze him is just the best sensation he could ever feel, the way her cunts is so tight but always tries to accommodate him, keeping him inside, the way she gets wet, how hot she is.

Aemond started moving his hand even faster, he was so hard, just by looking at her. He needed her, now. His hand went back to her cunt, as he carefully slipped his hand between her thighs, caressing her clit slowly. She takes a deeper breath in her sleep, and Aemond hugs her close, letting go of his cock. He knew it was wrong, really wrong, he should have let her rest. He just couldn’t, not when his mind was so filled with her. Not when he was surrounded by her, her sweet scent, her sounds, so fresh in his mind, clouding his reason.

She moves slightly, whining as if she was uncomfortable. Aemond presses her to her chest, his hand moving away from her cunt, raising slightly her leg so he could put his cock between her thighs. He lets go of her leg, and he is immediately filled with the beautiful sensation of her body. He tries to move his hips slowly, to not wake her as he moves his cock back and forth. She mumbles softly as she fixes the position of her arms. Aemond looks down at her as he grabs one of his breasts again, clenching his fingers around it. She lets out a louder whine.

“Aemond…” She mumbles as she slowly opens her eyes, looking up at him. Aemond watches her, lost. He looks at her eyes, so big, looking at him in confusion and he just can’t take it anymore. He digs his fingers back on her thigh tightly, raising it, and he just pushes inside her, groaning. She gasps loudly, letting out a loud whine at the uncomfortable stretch, clamping her hands on his shoulders, as he keeps pushing and pushing, forcing her to just take him, as she cries out.

“Shh, just take it- fucking take it-” he groans louder, bringing one of his hand back down, drawing circles around her clit to get her wet. She cries out again as she hides her face in his chest.

“Aem-ond- ah, please…” She keeps on whining, as he finally pushes his cock completely inside, letting out a long sigh of relief as he keeps on stimulating her clit, getting her wetter, so he can finally start moving harder.

“Shh, it’s alright, it’s just me…” He tries to calm her down, as he feels her cunt clenching so much it almost made him come right on spot. She cries out again when he starts thrusting quickly, roughly, pushing his cock in and out, hard.

“I know, I know, baby- Fuck, just.. a little bit more-” He said. He already felt himself on the verge of the orgasm, her cunt was just squeezing him so much, without preparation she just couldn’t take all of this. He keeps thrusting, and soon her cries turn out in moans, as he keeps working her clit, knowing it was her most sensitive spot.

“Aem- Oh- Aemond… Too- too much… please-” She sobs but he just can’t stop. He starts moving faster, filling the room with a loud sound of skin slapping, as he feels her walls starting to clench even tighter, making him moan.

“Just cum, pretty girl- please- Just… cum,and I’ll cum too-” He breathes out. Aemond was not a person to beg, but he needed this so much he would be embarrassed of himself if it didn’t feel this good. “Let me fill you up, I need this-” He moans again as he feels her body shake and her walls spasm so beautifully that he cums, as hard as he ever did. He groans as he hugs her tightly to him, giving her a last few lazy thrusts as he takes his hand away from her clit, wrapping his arm around her waist.

“I’m sorry, baby, it’s alright now…” He whispers in her ear as she hugs him back, trying to calm down too, both of them panting hard.

“Sleep.”

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elryuse · 7 days

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IU smut please

Lavender Flowers

IU X MALE READER

Tags : Iu Smut, Sex, Drama, Younger manager male reader

Jieun inhaled deeply, the calming scent of lavender filling her senses as she approached Y/n's tiny office. It was a feeble attempt to mask the nervous tremor in her hands and the frantic drumbeat of her heart. Today, she had a surprise for him, a gamble on a secret desire that had been simmering for weeks.

Y/n, her younger manager, defied all expectations. With his tousled black hair perpetually falling into his eyes and a smile that could melt glaciers, he was a whirlwind of youthful energy compared to Jieun's composed, mature demeanor. Yet, there was a captivating vulnerability in his eyes that always seemed to draw her gaze.

He was hunched over his laptop when she entered, his brow furrowed in concentration. "Jieun-noona?" he greeted, a flicker of surprise crossing his face as he looked up. "What a nice surprise."

"Just dropping by to see how the king of chaos is handling his kingdom," she teased, forcing a playful smile that felt strained even to her own ears.

Y/n chuckled, a sound that sent shivers down her spine despite the playful banter. "Barely surviving, Noona. The Schedules were a nightmare."

Jieun crossed her arms, leaning against the wall. "Well, that's what you get for taking on a diva like me."

The playful exchange masked the turmoil within her. Jieun had always maintained a professional distance with her managers, but with Y/n, the boundaries had started to blur weeks ago. It began with stolen glances across the recording booth, then late-night discussions that stretched into the early hours, filled with laughter and an unexpected connection that left her breathless.

"Maybe you need more lavender in your life, Manager Y/n," she said, reaching into a small, brown paper bag. "Stress relief, courtesy of your favorite artist."

Y/n's eyebrows shot up in surprise. He looked from the bag to her face, his eyes lingering a beat too long on her lips, sending a jolt through her. "Lavender isn't exactly my go-to scent, Noona."

Jieun's cheeks flushed a warm pink. "Well, you might learn to appreciate it. It's supposed to do wonders for anxiety."

He finally took the bag, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Anything from you, Noona, is a wonder."

The words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken desire. Jieun felt a boldness she never knew she possessed rise within her. "Tell me, Y/n," she began, her voice barely a whisper. "What about lavender fields under a full moon?"

Y/n's breath hitched. He looked up from the bag, his eyes searching hers. In that moment, the air crackled with unspoken possibilities. "Noona," he started, his voice hoarse. "I…"

Before he could finish, Jieun took a step forward, closing the distance between them. Her heart hammered in her chest as their gazes locked. "Let's find out," she murmured, her voice husky with a desire she hadn't known existed.

With a swift movement, she cupped his face in her hands, her thumb tracing the soft line of his jaw. His eyes widened momentarily before his gaze dropped to her lips. The tension in the air was thick, charged with a potent mix of forbidden desire and a budding connection.

Jieun leaned in, closing the remaining gap. Their first kiss was hesitant, a brush of lips that sent a jolt of electricity through her entire body. Y/n, taller by a head, responded with a surge of raw hunger. He pulled her closer, his body pressing against hers.

The scent of lavender mingled with the sweetness of her perfume as they explored each other's mouths with deepening passion. The kiss was a revelation, a collision of pent-up emotions. Jieun felt a fire ignite within her, a yearning she hadn't known existed.

Y/n's hands roamed her body, sending shivers down her spine. He cupped her face, deepening the kiss, his tongue dancing with hers. Her breath hitched as his touch ignited a flame in the pit of her stomach.

"Jieun," he whispered against her lips, his voice thick with desire. "We shouldn't…"

Jieun, her inhibitions melting away like ice under a summer sun, pressed her finger to his lips. "Shhh," she murmured, leaning into his touch. "Not now."

With a slow, deliberate movement, she unbuttoned his shirt, her fingers trailing across his bare chest, sending a jolt through him. His breath caught in his throat, and she could feel him stiffen in her arms.

The air in the small office was thick with desire as they continued to explore each other. Clothes were shed in a flurry of heated whispers and stolen glances. Jieun reveled in the feeling of his touch, his strong hands sending shivers down her spine as they traced patterns on her skin, igniting goosebumps all over her body. As they moved closer, the scent of lavender mingled with the heat of their bodies, creating a headier aroma that fueled their passion.

The afternoon sun cast long shadows through the office window as they finally pulled apart, breathless and tangled. Shame threatened to bubble up within Jieun, but it was quickly extinguished by the raw need that pulsed through her.

Y/n, his hair a mess and a dazed look in his eyes, mirrored her emotions. He ran a hand through his hair, his chest rising and falling rapidly. "Jieun-noona," he began, his voice hoarse.

"Shh," she cut him off, her finger finding its way to his lips again. "We'll talk later." In that moment, words were unnecessary. All that mattered was the warmth of his body pressed against hers, the feel of his heart pounding a frantic rhythm against his chest, a perfect echo of her own.

They spent the rest of the afternoon locked in each other's arms, the small office transformed into a haven of stolen moments and whispered promises. As the world outside faded away, they explored each other's bodies with a newfound tenderness, their initial passion evolving into a deeper intimacy.

When the last rays of sunlight dipped below the horizon, casting the room in a soft golden glow, they finally disentangled themselves. A blush rose to Jieun's cheeks as she realized the precariousness of the situation. "I… I should probably get going," she stammered, gathering her scattered clothes.

Y/n, his eyes filled with a newfound desire, reached out and gently tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Stay," he pleaded, his voice husky.

Jieun looked into his eyes, seeing a raw vulnerability that tugged at her heartstrings. The professional boundaries that had once separated them had been shattered, replaced by a connection far deeper. With a soft smile, she surrendered to her desires.

"Alright," she conceded, her voice barely a whisper.

The next few weeks continued in a haze of stolen kisses, lingering touches, and nervous glances at the studio door. Every night, entwined in the lavender-scented sheets of Jieun's king-sized bed, the weight of their secret relationship pressed down on them.

"We can't keep doing this, Y/n," Jieun sighed one evening, her voice laced with a bittersweet mix of fear and longing.

Y/n, nestled against her, his eyes closed, held her tighter. "But I don't want anything to change," he mumbled sleepily.

Jieun shifted in his arms, turning to look him in the face. The moonlight painted a soft glow on his features, highlighting the vulnerability in his eyes. "Neither do I," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. "But there has to be a way… a way for us to be together."

Y/n's eyes fluttered open, gazing at her with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine. He cupped her face in his hands, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through her. "Jieun," he began, his voice thick with emotion, "I… I love you."

The words hung in the air, heavy and unexpected. Jieun's heart leaped in her chest. A myriad of emotions flooded her - fear, surprise, and a joy so profound it threatened to overwhelm her.

"Y/n…" she started, her voice choked with emotion.

He silenced her with a finger to her lips. "Don't say anything," he whispered, his eyes searching hers. "Just let me hold you, let me know that you feel even a fraction of what I feel for you."

Tears welled up in Jieun's eyes. In that moment, all her doubts and anxieties melted away. The fear of the unknown, the sting of society's judgment, none of it mattered. Y/n's love was a beacon in the darkness, a lifeline she clung to with all her being.

Without a word, she leaned in, their kiss a silent testament to their forbidden love. When they finally broke apart, breathless and flushed, a sense of calm settled upon them, much like the calming scent of lavender that lingered in the air.

Jieun reached over to the nightstand, her fingers brushing against a small, delicate vase filled with dried lavender. It was the same bag she'd brought Y/n weeks ago, a symbol of hope for something peaceful amidst the chaos of their feelings.

"Maybe," she began, her voice barely a whisper, "maybe our love is like lavender. Unconventional, perhaps, but beautiful nonetheless. It might not fit the traditional mold, but its fragrance can fill a room with a sense of peace, a reminder that even in the most unexpected places, something beautiful can bloom."

Y/n looked from the vase to her eyes, his gaze filled with understanding. "And maybe," he said, his voice thick with emotion, "just maybe, like lavender, our love can survive a little drying out, a little pressure, as long as we have each other."

He pulled her close again, the scent of lavender mingling with the warmth of their bodies. Their future was uncertain, a field of lavender stretching out before them, some blooms vibrant purple and some faded, but all part of the same beautiful landscape. Together, they would navigate it, their love their guiding light, as fragrant and enduring as the fields of lavender they dreamt of one day exploring, hand in hand.

#iu #kpop smut #lee jieun #lee jieun smut #kpop #kpop x reader #kpop x y/n #x male reader #beautiful #sexy content #apreciation post #update

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yuki2sksksk · 4 months

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I was thinking of my younger times where I was obsessed with crossovers and at that time I was into My Little Pony, TMNT and Transformers Prime and then I remember @its-elioo crossover fics and read them and I feel like my inner child is rolling around in excitement because we finally find a well written crossover with MLP and Transformers.

Was stress relief sketching before deciding to whip out scenes that I love from her fics. The redesigns of Fluttershy and Bumblebee are hers.

I've always loved Fluttershy and Bumblebee so I adore their interactions. And adding Predaking as her new best friend? Absolutely.

Talking about Predaking, I remember that time in high school in art class; we had to do some kind of ink marking on clothes and the teacher let us pick any picture to draw of, so I chose the Predacon symbol to slap on the white shirt. I don't know where that shirt is now though.

#mlp #mlp art #my little pony #my litte pony friendship is magic #transformers #tfp #tf rid #mlp x tfp #mlp crossover #transformers crossover #drawing #Digital art #fluttershy #transformers bumblebee #transformers prime #transformers robots in disguise #crossover fic

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tarjapearce · 9 months

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As My Own

Miguel O'Hara x Daughter'sRoomate!femreader .

Don't think I have forgotten about the requests 👀.

WARNING: Fluff. A tiny squeeze of angst, Rotting tooth fluff, daily snippets of life, anxious dad.

Summary: Gabi wants a mom. And who is Miguel to deny such wish?

Requested Here. Hope you like ❤️ Feedback is highly appreciated.

Sighing for the third time in a row, Miguel looked fondly at the pictures of his daughter through the years, until she grew out to be a lovely young lady, whose talents in soccer had earned her a scholarship in college.

Despite being terrified of the idea of Gabriela spreading her wings and soar into life itself, he knew the moment would come sooner or later, more like, right now. He was unpacking some boxes into the apartment Gabi would be staying, and if he was honest, the idea of her sharing a room with someone else didn't appeal that much on his trust issues.

If it wasn't for the house renovations needed to be done ASAP, he'd make sure to get Gabi a place for her own.

------

Emancipation had taken a toll on him and his mind, The once girly and colorful room filled with drawings, trophies and medals with a soccer player motifs, soccer star posters, some consoles and games, was now an empty space full of memories.

When Gabi gave him the news of her moving out completely, made his heart to shrink and break, but he knew that he had to let her go. Gabriela was 19 at the time, doing good at college, had found herself a half time job and a new roommate. The last one seemed the most preoccupying thing on the list. Was it a man? Did she eat well? Did she get along with them? Probably had gotten her a couple of fights, were they older? Was his Solecito safe?

It had been three years since she left home and pursue her superior studies and a professional soccer player career.

His mind was racing with the infinite questions and his stress gnawed at his chest, his phone buzzing interrupted his accelerating thoughts. He opened the message log and sighed in relief to see Gabriela's name on the screen.

He tapped at the message and his heart nearly melted at seeing Gabi with a goofy expression on her face, her hands making a V sign as she hovered over a small table set for two.

"Dinner time with Roomie~"

The caption read. The food looked delicious and esthetically pleasing at the eye. Nearly Michelin star awarded restaurant quality.

(Name) 's food is amazing! . Btw Im free next week, so come over, I miss you Papa.

Gabi had texted him some couple of hours later. (Name) ; at least he now knew that Gabi shared space with a woman. He didn't trust college guys at all. At least, he could sleep a bit better now. However, something had caught his attention, despite Gabi's competitive traits, she rarely loosened herself around others. And the picture only proved him right.

Gabi was unabashedly goofy and silly on the picture, with a genuine smile on her face. Whoever you were, he was grateful for making his most precious treasure comfortable and safe.

-----

The first time you met Gabi was quite the experience, you had just returned from work to find a lot of boxes loitering the entrance and part of the living room. Books, some baskets with soccer balls and equipment, Somw clothes and more books.

The burning smell immediately alerted you as smoke begun filling in the room. Rushing you opened the window and started to dissipate the smoke away with a towel.

"Oh my god! I'm so sorry!" The young and tall woman panicked as she came out of the bathroom, body wrapped in a towel, just like her hair. Skin still sudsy with soap.

The chaos was tamed, leaving one of your favorite collectible pots, charred and useless.

"I'm really really sorry! I'll get you a new one."

"Don't you worry. Just... be careful. Don't leave the stove on when you are away. You could've burn the place down"

Gabi nodded sheepishly and looked down, when she noticed your chef uniform, the logo of a prestigious place she could only dream to afford in a couple of months and a place where he wanted to take her Papa as a surprise, standing out in your chest.

"Im (Name), the other tenant. Nice to meet you." Your voice was firm, yet kind. The kind of kindness that could insult anyone and still sound charming.

"Gabriela O'Hara. Sorry for your pot. I'll get you a new one"

"Ah stop it. It was just a family relic passed on generation to generation that now will end up in the trash."

You couldn't help but laugh at her panicking and guilty reaction.

"I'm just messing with you, sweetie. I got Ceci on a promo back at the supermarket. Don't worry. It's just a pot. We throw at least one daily at the restaurant. What were you trying to make anyways?"

Gabi didn't know if to be shocked or be laughing at your attitude. She settled for confused.

"Cause it smelled like cheap Mac and Cheese"

Her cheeks flushed and you just chuckled knowingly.

"Freshman?" Gabi nodded and you smiled almost endearingly at her.

"Such a cutie! I remember my first semester at college. Such a mess, terrible food and a terrible roommate"

"You're graduated?"

"A long time ago, yeah, Culinary school is something else. Don't get in there if you like having perfect skin."You chuckled and rolled up your sleeve, showing a few shares of scars and burn marks.

"Anyways, let's have a couple of rules okay? If you follow them, who knows? it can take us places." You grinned.

"No boys after 10 pm on weekends, and if you do, keep it low. Thin walls. Same applies to me, but don't worry about it. Im way too tired to actually do something about bringing my libido back."

Jeesh

Gabi's cheek flushed as her stomach fluttered anxiously.

"You can use my tools for cooking with the only condition to leave them clean and back at their place. Got it?"

She nodded at every reasonable rule you gave her. You had warned her that sometimes you'd be out of town due work, and that left her on charge of the place. It was brought to her attention that despite the place being small, it was conditioned enough to make it almost fancy looking. The kitchen specially.

Of course things just grew from there. At first Gabi was shocked to find you were a couple of years younger than her Papa. And that you had been single for quite a time now. Couple of years to be exact.

But that mattered little as her growing fondness for you was borderline adorable. You had helped her through some really bad times, like getting her a part time job at your workplace after being fired from the college coffee shop, something she never had the guts to tell Miguel.

Then you of course helping her out in her cooking skills, to at least stop eating plain ramen and packaged food bags.

"You're an athlete, you must feed like one."

"But I can't... afford it-"

"Uh uh. Shh." You shook your head and taught her to buy the right sort of meals even under a tight budget. Sometimes she would even find meals prepped for her whenever she had run short on money.

You were there when she got her first college date, and also were there when the young man turned out to be a fuckboy and a prick. Wiping her tears and feeding her a freshly made creme brule. A favorite of hers. You had also Dropped her and picked her up in her soccer practices whenever time allowed you so. She seeked guidance in you

She was there for you when depression was making it's way into your head, she was also there when she helped you to recover from a hang over after another failed date, and nursed you through your terrible period cramps. Even though sometimes harmony seemed disrupted by external causes, such as stress, work and feeling particularly wistful and blue, you'd always find comfort in eachother.

You were amazed by the fact that you realized that she was like the little girl you always dreamed to have.

"How come you don't have children?" Gabi had asked carefully. Despite the trust you hsd built over the years, there was some things you still couldn't bring yourself to discuss so openly, until now.

"I..."

"Sorry if I'm overstepping"

"Nah. I think it's time I actually come clean about some stuffs."

"Are you sure?" You nodded and sighed

"I can't have them"

Surprise drawed into Gabi's eyes as she stared at you.

"Infertility?"

"Yup. But... It's fine. I've come to terms with it, so..."

You trailed and she swallowed as her hand was placed above yours.

"For all it's worth? I'm sure you could have been an amazing mother."

Could have been

" To me, you... you are."

Gabi mumbled as tears swelled up in her eyes, threatening to fall. You stared at her, heart leaping in your chest

"Like... You are like the mother I never had... My Papa is amazing, but sometimes I actually yearn for a different kind of love." She hiccuped and you frowned, holding her closer.

"Like a mom. I want... I want to go shopping and talking about boys and how stupid they are. I want... to be cheered on by someone else at my games and not only my Papa."

Your heart felt breaking bit by bit as Gabi broke before you

"Don't get me wrong, I love Papa to death but... It's hard, y'know?"

"Ah, cariño." An endearment term you had learn from her, "You are such an amazing kid. Im sure that whoever comes into your life to take that spot needs to be amazing, because you're such a special young woman. Look at you, bright future ahead, smart, so so pretty and brave"

But Gabriela didn't want a stranger as her mother figure. She wanted you.

Gabi hid her face on your chest as you held her close, consoling her as much as you could. She remained there until she looked up at you with a suspicious glare

"Maybe I can introduce you to my dad" Your cheeks flushed bright red and she gasped, a bright bulb of an idea popping in her mind, sadness remnants vanishing from her body almost instantly

"No, Gabi, cariño-"

"You can meet him this weekend!"

"That's too soon, I am not prepared! Plus I have work remember?"

"He's staying all weekend, don't worry."

You had seen her adoring Papa through pictures she had showed you. The man was attractive, and looked certainly way too out of your league but of course you never told Gabi about it. You just shrugged it off with a 'Oh, cute'. But now that her plan was on set, you couldn't say no to her.

"Besides, I think it's time for you to actually meet guys. And this time no excuses like Im busy or stuff like that."

"Okay, okay. But if things don't work out-"

"I know, I'll drop it." Gabi rolled her eyes.

-----

Even though the recipe for a certain disaster was cooking, you tried to be optimistic about it. A bit of positive thinking wouldn't hurt you from time to time. However, your shift turned out a bit trickier than usual, since the restaurant had been reserved for a main event for important people.

In the little chance you had, you sent Gabi a little video of how crowded it was, and apologizing cause you didn't know if you were making a double shift and wouldn't be able to meet Papa.

Gabi just sent you a picture of the both with a "Miss you! Dad just came"

------

3 am. 3 am and you were finally done, no more stuck up clients pretending to love raw fish and meats, people that were just actually there for the food pictures and to be able to brag about they were there. Your feet ached, and so was your headache. The good thing was that the company allowed you to take some food home.

Keys tinkered as you grabbed them to finally turn them in the keyhole and entering home and closed the door, angry and heavy steps alerted you as the hulking figure of a man stood in the dark, as the dim lit red iris flashed at you. You had to crane your head up to meet his deep eyes.

Now you wondered where Gabi had came out so tall.

"H-Hello..." You gulped and he sighed, hard expression melting slowly.

"Sorry for... the late hour."

"No, no. Discúlpeme I mean, forgive me. Though someone had broke in, until I heard the keys a bit too late. I'm Miguel. O'Hara." He offered you his large hand that easily engulfed yours.

"Oh, so you're... Papa" you shook it gently. He was warm, and chuckled. "Im (Name). Gabi never stops talking about you." You gave him an amiable smile and put your containers on the dining table.

"Nice to meet you" you began unpacking, aligning the recipients carefully on the table.

"How's... Gabriela doing?" His deep voice snapped your focus for a moment and your eyes darted to his form. Sweatpants in grey, a white fitting shirt that snugged his form a bit too nicely for a short stare. Hair slicked back, pouty lips, thick brows and his deep... red eyes? He certainly was even more handsome in the flesh than in the pictures.

"Oh, she's amazing. Her practice in soccer has improved even more. She has a final next week."

His brow arched at how much information you knew about her.

"I apologize, she fell asleep in your room, despite me telling her that the couch would be-"

"Ah don't worry about it. My bed is big enough for two, and she isn't a kicker in her sleep. So make sure to rest properly. Oh! And welcome for the weekend. Would you like something to eat?"

Miguel shook his head and softly smiled at you. You were pretty. So so pretty that his mind was almost in shortcut when you were removing your chef robe, in the kitchen exposing a bit more of skin. Your left arm was adorned with little burn marks and cuts, you poured yourself a glass of wine when you felt his eyes on you.

"Want some?" You offered the wine and he nodded, a bit reluctant at first.

"Has Gabi acted out of place while I'm gone?" You giggled as you poured him some wine.

"If by out of place means sleeping one hour later than she is used to, yeah. She has." Your hands gave him the cup and he leaned on the table. Gabi groggily came out your room, lured away by the delicious smell of food.

"Hey" She mumbled and hugged Miguel and then hugged you, and remained with her arms around your waist. You kissed her forehead and she smiled.

Miguel entered in spectator mode.

"Hey, cupcake. Want some food?"

"Can I have it tomorrow?"

"Got you a Creme Brule." She grunted happily.

Gabi smiled and went through the bags, popping a chocolate coated strawberry on her mouth.

"Still, I'm too tired to actually eat. Got Papa and I some takeout."

"Takeout?! The good sort of thing I hope" Gabriela groaned as she made her way back to your room.

"Don't steal the fluffy sheets!"

"Yes, mom. Take a bath first, you smell like garlic." she mumbled and went to bed.

Your whole face was as red as a strawberry not because your smell, but for how she had called you, you gulped down the wine and sighed. Miguel stared at you and his chest couldn't help but constrict a little more.

" I apologize for that, Gabriela is..."

"Quite receptive to smells? Yeah."

"And she called you mom." He was more surprised about it than anything else.

"Ah hehe. Yeah, she had been calling me accidentally that a bit more often."

"Does it makes you feel uncomfortable?" He sipped his wine

"Not really. I find it cute. She eh... talked to me about growing up and how things had been for her."

"I must thank you. You have fed her, taken care of her and now even protect her."

"She's a great kid." You nodded proudly. "Couldn't find a better roomie, and a friend. You did a good job raising her, Papa."

Miguel cleared his throat and gave you a small smile.

"I hope she hasn't-"

"Relax, she's been nothing but a good kid all these years. You gotta trust her a bit more."

"It's the people around her that I don't trust"

"Ouch..."

"I mean, not that I dont... just... carajo." you giggled at his cursing as his brows knitted together

"I mean, my daughter trusts you enough to sleep in your bed, call you mom even, so... would be kinda dumb to say that you're a bad person... And I'm not making any sense right?"

You gave him a bashful smile and it was your turn to clear your throat.

"She's been busy at playing cupid. She thinks she is subtle..." You bit your lip and poured yourself a bit more of wine as Miguel rubbed his face, tiredly.

"What about, today at 7 pm?"

"At 7pm what?" He coked an eyebrow to you and Gabriela poked her head out of your room, sighing with exasperation.

"Por Dios pa, Te está invitando a salir!" (My god, Papa, she's asking you out.)

You just laughed and put the food in the fridge

"If you're up for it, that is. It's fine if you don't-"

"Make it at 8. Traffic has lowered by that hour."

"Alright." You smiled and took your chef coat with you.

"Sleep well, Papa."

He downed the remnants of his wine and smiled to himself. He had a date.

------—----

And a second, and a third and a fourth and a fifth. You were such an enjoyable being to hang around. You shared little silly texts, learnt a bit more spanish thanks to him to slowly bring down your language barrier. Even though you understood some words here and there, you wanted to understand so you could also feel part of the secret and long conversations the two O'Haras shared when it came to you.

Miguel was the first in making a move and kissed you around the fourth date. Nervous as you were, you finally felt good enough to just allow yourself to indulge in his company and what he had to offer. Great company, laughs, delicious make out sessions you didn't thought possible at your age.

Gabi had found you both eating each other's mouth in the livingroom

"Get a room!" She'd yell as she locked herself, headphones up her ears, but a beam in her face. Her chest swelled in joy knowing her cupid stunt had paid off.

--------

"You sure about that?"

"Yeah, pa. Like... She's the best. She's so sweet and... makes me happy cause you are happy."

"You'd be the only child, you're aware of that right?"

Gabi nodded upon remembering your words and your condition.

"Having a little sibling at this point would be awkward anyways."

"That doesn't mean I can't try-"

"Oh my god stop..." Gabi shook her head and Miguel smirked

"Payback for not telling me you were fired." She grunted as Miguel held her tightly.

"I think it's time to try something new."

"You'll ask her to marry you?!" Gabi gasped excited with a beam on her face

"Relax, Solecito. We're still knowing each other. And we wanna make sure that things work out before thinking in something so important as that."

"If you let her go, I promise that I won't talk to you again."

"Ouch."

--------

Bit by bit you had small milestones in your relationship with Miguel, you visiting his home back at New York, you staying a weekend in said home, you being introduced to his friends, sharing carneada with his friends, and of course, being found by Gabriela about to have sex, none of you mentioned it during dinner.

To make things even more convenient and better, your restaurant had opened a second branch in New York. Gabi was about to graduate college and of course, you both were saddened that soon you'll part ways. The both were too enraptured enjoying your mother-daughter relationship you had created that forgot about the future.

It didn't help to her sadness when you told her about you and other crew members of your work were selected for a three months workshop in France.

Despite your own sadness, both O'Haras cheered you to go.

"Three months is gonna be torture without you, but time goes so fast. You'll be back sooner than we expect it." Gabi had spoken. And of course, after her graduation, and a kiss goodbye, you flew to France.

Communication wasn't an issue since you talked every day. And still, the gnawing feeling of not being with them made you wish time to fly. You spoke every night with Miguel, telling him how much you have missed him. Even though work had kept you both busy enough, you'd always find a way to talk or text.

And when you came back? It felt like floating in a dream.

"Mom!" Gabriela rushed to you and crushed you in her arms, sniffling and holding you tightly.

"I missed you soo much, cariño." You kissed her forehead, Miguel joined a bit later with a rose bouquet on hand. He pulled you in for a deep kiss.

"Missed you, preciosa".

What sealed the deal for him was seeing you sharing a moment with Gabi. You were brushing her hair as you caught up eith the things you learned in France and how excited you were for them both to taste them.

He asked you to move in with them. And god he loved the feeling of you being around. Gabi was happy, he was happy and you were as well.

Everything about you had captured his heart. Your personality, your way to carry on things, the subtle ways you guided Gabriela without imposing in her autonomy, How much love you seemed to have for them, the delicious feeling of your skin against his on bed.

He proposed a year after. He wouldn't let you go, no no. You were too perfect for him, and a perfect Mom for Gabriela.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x you #t writes✨#miguel o'hara x reader #atsv miguel #dad miguel o'hara #gabi o'hara #Fluff #miguel fluff #miguel o'hara fluff #fem reader #atsv fluff #astv fanfic

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slytherinslut0 · 6 months

Text

MATTHEO RIDDLE- Beg For Me

Chapter Fifteen-Info: You and Mattheo have been butting heads for months, since you were assigned as his tutor, and one day during a session full of tense bickering, he has enough.

(This will essentially be a toxic book where we are Theos fucktoy. No love here, very minimal fluff.)

Tags: this chapter is literally just angst. complete freakin angst. two broken hearts that refuse to acknowledge it. pretty poetical. i know i said no love but now im not so sure.

****FIND THE REST OF THE CHAPTERS HERE.

"You're coming with me, Emily," you asserted, arms crossed over your chest, your eyes narrowing at her as she was lazily sprawled out on her bed, clearly uninterested in your predicament. "There's no way in hell I'm going alone...you can bring Michael."

Emily let out a dramatic groan, her hands instinctively flying to rub her tired eyes. "But...there's a Gryffindor party that night too...we'd much rather go to-"

"Emily!" you interrupted, advancing across the room toward her bed. You leaned against the footboard, your expression pleading. "Please, please...after everything that happened with Berkshire, I'd prefer not to go back into their bloody common room by myself...plus I don't even drink! Like I don't even know-"

"Okay, okay!" Emily hastily sat up, cutting you off as she sensed your rising panic. "Gods, you're giving me a headache...I'll talk to Michael about it..."

A sigh of relief escaped you, but the tension still clung to your shoulders like a heavy cloak. You spun around, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on you as you threaded your fingers through your hair in frustration, each strand a tangible reminder of your racing thoughts.

Your mind buzzed with a whirlwind of worries. What should you wear to fit in yet not draw too much attention? How would you deflect offers of drinks without seeming rude or standoffish? And most pressing of all, how did you even find yourself entangled in this mess? The truth was, your inability to refuse others had led you down this labyrinthine path, a maze of social obligations you couldn't escape.

Emily's voice broke through the heavy silence, as delicate as the softest feathers--cautiously adjusting her tone now that she'd sensed just how stressed out you were.

"Hey, you'll be fine," she reassured, her words a gentle caress in the midst of your turmoil. "You're with Tom, he'll make sure no one bothers you, I'm positive of it."

Emily's comforting words washed over you, but beneath the surface, your thoughts spiraled into a tumultuous whirlpool. The past two weeks had been a stark contrast to the passionate chaos you'd experienced with Mattheo. Since ending things with him, your tutoring sessions had turned quiet, punctuated only by the distant echo of pages turning and the bland murmur of academic based conversations.

Although Mattheo continued to give you his full undivided attention in your sessions, the silence hung heavy between you, a reminder of the void left by your fractured connection.

And in the midst of this emotional vacuum, you found unexpected solace in Tom's company. The regular meetings continued, but they had expanded beyond the boundaries of academics. Flirting had entirely woven its way into your conversations, each playful word adding a charged tension to the air. Now, his invitation to the party on Saturday night dangled before you like a tempting, yet daunting, prospect.

However, regardless of his advances, your feelings for Tom were far from romantic. It wasn't love that stirred your heart when you thought of him, but rather a sense of obligation. The Guild, with its intricate web of social dynamics, demanded a delicate balance. To maintain your position, you felt compelled to go along with Tom's desires, to keep up the facade of mutual interest. It was a game you didn't want to play, but the stakes were too high to ignore.

As Emily's reassurances attempted to quell your anxieties, the knot of obligation tightened in your chest. The looming party represented not only a night of uncertainty but also a reluctant sacrifice to uphold your standing in the Guild. The weight of your choices pressed down on you, a reminder that sometimes, obligations could feel as suffocating as the absence of passion.

"Yeah," you responded, your voice a grumble underlined with frustration. "Talk to Michael and let me know what he says... I'm heading up to the Tower, I just need some time alone."

Emily's expression softened, sympathy flickering in her eyes. "I'll handle it," she assured you. "Take your time up there, lots of stars to count, wouldn't want to miss one because you're rushing..."

You rolled your eyes at her snark, chewing on your lip to stifle your grin. "Yeah, yeah." You said. "Thanks, Em."

With a bleak smile, you grabbed your bag and pushed out of your dorm room, mind racing as you made your way up to the tower, the castle covered in its usual blanket of darkness, given it was already past eleven pm.

You thought back to that first week of tutoring sessions after you and Mattheo had called things off, how every moment spent in his presence felt excruciating. Sitting in such close proximity to him--being forced to look into his deep, intoxicating eyes, trace the scars that adorned his skin, and fixate on those perfect lips while knowing you'd never get to be anything other than platonic was a torment for your already aching heart.

For those initial days, your mind was a battleground of conflicting emotions. Thoughts of what it had felt like to have his hands exploring your body, pulling you close against his firm frame, haunted your every waking moment. His newfound silence only served to further infuriate you, although the reasons for your frustration remained elusive--you had wanted this separation, knew you needed it more than anything, yet part of you resented how effortlessly he seemed to cast everything aside, as though it had all been a meaningless fling to him, despite the amounts of passion you'd experienced.

The internal turmoil left you in a relentless tug-of-war between contentment and bitter disappointment. With every missed touch, resentment began to coil in the pit of your stomach. Despite yearning for the way he made you feel, your chest was a maelstrom of conflicted emotions. Gratitude warred with irritation; you were thankful that your life lacked complications that could jeopardize your post-graduate career, yet infuriated that Mattheo hadn't even tried to fight for you.

It stung, the way he seemingly dismissed you as though you were just another girl, another notch on his belt, disregarding the depth of what you shared.

Or, you guessed at this point, what you thought you had shared.

As you settled into the quiet solitude of the Astronomy Tower, the vast expanse of the night sky above became your sanctuary, the stars twinkling like distant diamonds against the vast canvas of space. It was your haven, a place where you could lose yourself in the mysteries of the universe. Surrounded by your celestial charts and notebooks, you immersed yourself in your research, the quill in your hand gliding over the parchment as you recorded your observations.

In the midst of your cosmic exploration, a sudden intrusion shattered the tranquility of the Astronomy Tower. Mattheo, his presence unexpected, settled down beside you. The mere sight of him sent your pulse racing, a rapid drumbeat in your ears. You shot your head around, scanning the surroundings as though you'd forgotten where you were, your mind racing with questions. Why the fuck was he here? The unexpected encounter left you beyond shocked, your eyes wide with surprise and curiosity.

"Matt-" your voice faltered, the surprise of his presence momentarily stealing your words.

"Couldn't sleep," he muttered, his voice carrying a weight of restlessness, as if the night sky outside held answers he desperately sought. "Don't allow me to interrupt."

He cut you off before you could regain your composure, not even bothering to spare a glance in your direction. His eyes remained fixed on the stars, his silence echoing louder than any words he could have spoken. The unspoken tension between you hung in the air, heavy and palpable, a reminder of the unresolved emotions that lingered beneath the surface.

"Um, okay." You cleared your throat, attempting to steady your voice, and resolutely returned your focus to the celestial tapestry above.

The stars glittered, seemingly oblivious to the complicated tornado of emotions unfolding below. As you continued your silent analysis of the night sky, you became aware of Mattheo lighting up a cigarette. His movements were deliberate, every flicker of the lighter, every draw from the cigarette, seemed to carry a weighted significance. Despite your attempt to ignore him, you could feel his eyes on you, his gaze like a tangible presence that bore into your skin, even without direct contact. The night stretched on, the only sounds the soft crackling of burning tobacco and the occasional rustle of paper as you made notes, each moment steeped in a tense stillness, waiting for something to break the fragile equilibrium.

And then, Mattheo's voice sliced through the quiet of the night, his question hanging in the air like a challenge. "What are you even doing?"

His question caught you off guard, a shock registering in your eyes as you assumed he was merely asking to mock you. Nevertheless, you gathered your composure, your passion for your research overcoming your initial surprise.

"I'm studying how stars and planetary alignments affect magic," you explained, your words measured yet enthusiastic. "The positions of celestial bodies influence magical energies, shaping the potency of our spells. Understanding these cosmic patterns is like deciphering the universe's manual for mastering magic."

Mattheo's eyes narrowed, a hint of skepticism coloring his voice. "Stars affecting magic?" he said, his tone dismissive yet laced with a sliver of intrigue. "Seems a bit far-fetched, Raven."

His words hung in the air, laced with icy indifference, yet there was an undeniable glimmer of curiosity, a flicker of interest that betrayed his cold exterior. You met Mattheo's skepticism with a determined gaze.

"It may sound far-fetched, but it's already been proven that magic is intertwined with the cosmos," you replied, your voice steady. "The alignment of stars and planets creates unique energy patterns. Understanding these patterns can give us an edge in harnessing magic. It's not about belief, it's about tapping into the natural forces of the universe..." you let your words linger for a moment, finally dropping your quill and releasing a long sigh. "Why are you always so dismissive of everything? Don't you have dreams Mattheo, don't you have passions?"

Mattheo took a slow drag off his cigarette, the ember glowing brightly before he released a plume of smoke that danced in the air, curling and twisting like ethereal tendrils. His eyes, usually guarded, met yours, holding a glimmer of something unreadable.

"Everyone dreams, Raven," he said, flatly. "But life isn't a fucking fairytale, sometimes dreams are crushed before they're born."

Your silent reaction spoke volumes as you studied his face, the way his chocolate curls framed his brooding eyes, holding countless secrets within their depths. Mattheo's words slowly dug into your shoulders, heavy with the weight of harsh truths. You released a long sigh, the reality of his words settling in, before you cautiously spoke.

"If everything was dipped in gold, it'd never grow..." you whispered, your voice soft yet resolute, as you turned your eyes back to the stars. "And not everything sweet is sugarcoated, Mattheo...sometimes life stings, and you have to fight for what you want, but that doesn't mean you toss away the wand, does it?"

For a moment, Mattheo's silence hung heavy, punctuated only by the soft exhale of smoke curling from his lips. The tendrils of fog obscured the canvas of stars, casting a mysterious veil over the night sky. When you turned to meet his gaze, you discovered his eyes already fixed on you, their depths shimmering with an enigmatic intensity.

"Even stars burn out, Raven," he said, his voice a low, gravelly murmur that seemed to echo the somber truth of the universe. "Sometimes, there's nothing you can do but watch."

Something panged in your chest, a jolt of pain spreading through you as Mattheo's words settled into the night air. For another brief, fleeting moment, your eyes met, and there was a flicker of understanding between you. You glimpsed his lips, and he glimpsed yours, a silent exchange of unspoken sentiments.

Swiftly, you looked away, turning your attention to the moon, its silvery glow casting an ethereal light upon your face, silently gathering yourself as you fought off the heat that was swarming your cheeks.

"You know what I appreciate more than the stars?" Mattheo's voice cut through the night, a hint of intrigue in his tone as he finally shifted his gaze off of you. "The moon."

You raised an eyebrow in curiosity. "And why is that?"

"It's the one constant," Mattheo replied, his gaze fixed on the night sky. "Stars might fade, flicker, but the moon persists...it's just...there." His voice was calm, almost distant, as if he was lost in thought. "No drama, no shows...just silent influence--one that can pull an entire fucking ocean from shore to shore...that's a power that can't be diminished. Subtle, yet absolute."

You nodded slowly, your eyes meeting his in the dim light of the night. The world around you seemed to fade away as you felt your pulse increase, an unspoken tension hanging between you.

"Silent influence," you murmured, your voice thoughtful. "A power that commands without demanding, a force that shapes without shouting…I think it’s a potent reminder of strength in simplicity."

"Beauty, too," he whispered, his voice almost a caress. "A reminder of the beauty in simplicity."

The words danced around you, laden with prescribed meaning, and you couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to this conversation, something unspoken yet deeply felt. A vast silence filled the space around you, thick with a growing tension as Mattheo's eyes, intense and unreadable, locked onto yours, their depths echoing a multitude of emotions. You felt his fingers graze against yours as they were planted on the ground next to your thigh, a subtle yet electrifying touch.

At the feeling of his flesh grazing yours, even in as something as simple as this, your breath hitched, and a rush of heat surged through your body, making every nerve ending tingle with anticipation. After two whole fucking weeks, just as you’d finally stopped moping, just as you finally felt as though you could breathe without thinking about him, it was as if the universe itself had conspired to bring you two together in this charged moment, leaving you both suspended in a space where words were unnecessary, and the raw connection between your souls spoke volumes--his hand, touching yours, this is how galaxies collide, you thought.

"It's been two weeks since you've even bothered to bloody look at me, Mattheo..." you whispered, your voice trembling like fragile autumn leaves in the wind, scared to acknowledge the reality of your situation, but knowing you needed to. "It all meant nothing to you, yeah?"

Mattheo's gaze remained unwavering, his expression stoic and seemingly emotionless as he absorbed your words. His silence spoke louder than any response he could offer, leaving you with a hollow ache in your chest. The pain of his indifference cut deep, a stark contrast to the fiery passion that once consumed both of you.

Finally, he spoke, his voice low and filled with a restrained yet undetectable emotion. "Even if I said it didn't, would it really fucking matter, Raven?"

At his words, your heart rung, realizing that no matter how desperately you clung to the fragments of what you once shared, the reality was undeniable--the passion that once ignited between you two had flickered out, leaving only smouldering embers in its wake, and there was no reason for you to be upset over it--given that this was exactly what you fucking wanted.

Yet, with a heavy heart, you turned away, your gaze fixed on the distant horizon, searching for solace in the vast expanse of the night sky. You found yourself unprepared for the intricate complexities of your current reality--finding it amusing how your parents had dutifully cautioned you about the monsters lurking under your bed and the cruelty of schoolyard bullies, but never bothered to forewarn you about the captivating chaos that a disheveled boy with pretty eyes; ones that seemed to hold the fucking galaxies in their midst, and a demeanour infused with smoke and silver-tongued eloquence, would bring into your life.

"It would matter to me, yes." Your voice quivered as you confessed, the vulnerability in your words palpable in the night air--you kept your eyes fixed out in front of you, not daring to look at him. "I haven't been able to stop thinking about you, Mattheo..."

Mattheo scoffed, pulling out another cigarette, his movements deliberate yet filled with a sense of bitterness.

"You seem perfectly happy distracting yourself with my brother," he retorted, the words laced with a harsh edge.

Frustration welled up within you, your hands rising to your face as you rubbed the tension from your eyes, trying to find the right words amidst the chaos of emotions.

"Gods, you're unbelievable...that's exactly what ruined us, Mattheo," you said, your voice firm and weary. "Your constant issues with your brother, your need to control every damn thing... I just can't decipher your fucking intentions. Whatever 'us' meant, it drowned in the chaos you brought into it."

Mattheo's expression remained unreadable, a storm of emotions flickering behind his eyes. He took a slow drag from his cigarette, exhaling the smoke calmly before he finally spoke, his words weighed down by an unspoken burden.

"Maybe some things are just meant to drown, Raven." He said, bluntly. "You and I both know that."

You met Mattheo's gaze squarely, your eyes filled with hesitation and the weight of unspoken truths--his flat dismissal of your words bothered you, sparking irritation through your veins, but you couldn't drop his prior insinuation regarding his brother--it was time you cleared that up once and for all.

"For the record," you began, your voice faltering slightly, "I don't feel anything for your brother. I never fucking did. It was never, ever about him." The confession hung heavy in the air, your heart pounding as felt as though you’d revealed a vulnerable piece of your soul. "It was always about you," you added, your voice barely above an audible whisper. "I..."

"Stop," he said, his eyes flashing with a mix of anger and desperation. His body tensed, as if bracing for an impact. "Whatever you were about to say, don't say it."

Mattheo's voice came out as a sharp command, cutting through the tension like a knife through the darkness. His words lingered in the chilled night atmosphere, a heavy barrier between you, guarding his emotions like a fortress wall. Your throat tightened, constricting like a vice around your words. Each beat of your heart felt like a war drum, its thunderous rhythm drowning out any other sound.

"Why?" You hardly croaked.

"Because," Mattheo replied, his jaw clenching with the intensity of his suppressed emotions. "There are two fucking things in life you can't take back, Raven--bullets and words.“ he paused for a moment, inhaling a sharp breath. “Always make sure you hit what you aim at, and that you mean what you fucking say.”

Mattheo's words hit you like a tidal wave, crashing against the fragile walls of your resolve. The words rolled around you, creating a unstable bridge that stretched across the chasm between your bodies, threatening to collapse under the weight of suppressed emotions--and after a moment that felt like an eternity, you exhaled, accepting his now-hardened demeanour and deciding to just drop it, you switched the subject.

"I...I was just going to say...Tom invited me to the party in your common room on Saturday," you whispered, voice trembling as much as your fingers were. "I plan on going."

Mattheo's body tensed, his jaw tightening even further, as if to mask the rising anger within him. He avoided your gaze, his fists clenching involuntarily, struggling to contain the emotions surging beneath his calm exterior.

"And do you think that's a good idea?" His words sliced through the air, sharp and pointed, echoing the turmoil within him. "Have you ever attended a party here, even once?"

You shook your head, your voice barely audible as you admitted, "No, but I can't say no to him, Mattheo...I can't jeopardize my position in the guild. I've worked so hard for it, my entire educational career..." the desperation in your tone was palpable, the weight of your responsibilities bearing down on your shoulders. "It's rather maddening how quickly I transitioned from one Riddle capable of shattering my fucking future to another...it's like I can't catch a break."

The space between you and Mattheo sat heavy with unspoken words, an abyss of silence that seemed to stretch on endlessly. The soft glow of the dim light accentuated the shadows dancing across his face, emphasizing the muffled frustration etched into his features. Each puff of his cigarette punctuated the quiet, adding to the palpable tension in the air.

"I wasn’t planning on going to that," he finally replied, his voice carrying an unusual firmness, as if he was trying to convince himself too. "I quit all that shit."

Your voice caught in your throat, shock freezing your words as you tried to process his revelation.

"You-" you began, but he cut you off, his tone flat, devoid of its usual edge.

"Drinking, drugs," he said, his eyes meeting yours with a glint of determination before he gestured towards the cigarette between his fingers. "These are next."

You struggled to find your voice, your mind racing to comprehend the magnitude of his decision. The man who had drowned himself in alcohol more times in one week than you could count on two bloody hands had fucking quit it all. It was almost impossible to believe.

"Wow," you breathed, your words laced with a mix of disbelief and exasperation. Part of you still rolled with disappointment over his absence at the upcoming event, but a flicker of hope dared to spark within you. "That's great, Mattheo...that's a huge step for you..."

Mattheo's silence hung in the air, his eyes searching your face as if seeking answers in the depths of your gaze. Time seemed to stretch, the weight of the world seemingly sitting heavy between you. With deliberate slowness, he blinked, extinguishing his cigarette on the ground beside him, never breaking eye contact.

"You're too good, Raven," he whispered, his voice surprisingly steady, resonating with a mixture of admiration and regret. "Such an angel...you should know, I was never unaware that you fucking saved me."

His words hung there, pregnant with meaning, as if he was acknowledging a debt he could never fully repay. The vulnerability in his eyes was a stark contrast to the usual stoic facade, revealing the depth of his emotions in that fleeting moment. Mattheo's gaze continued to bore into yours, his eyes intense as if he had stumbled upon something precious he couldn't bear to lose.

In a move so gentle it felt like a caress, his hand lifted to your face, his thumb tracing a feather-light path over your cheek. His voice, soft and tender, carried a weight of sincerity that resonated deep within you.

"Everything will work out..everything you've worked so fucking hard for will eventually pay off," he whispered. "I would have never deserved you."

Your stomach twisted, and your heart seemed to pound against your sternum with a deafening resonance, drowning out the world around you. You couldn’t feel your fingers or the cold or the fucking emptiness of your heart because all you could feel was him. All you could focus on was the overwhelming fucking urge to climb into his lap and kiss him until you couldn’t breathe, kiss him until the only thing embedded within the tastebuds on your tongue was his fucking taste. He is everywhere, he is everything--in every pulse of your desires and the depths of your soul, and then he whispered,

“I will be there, for you, on Saturday,” his voice was a low, husky murmur, filling you with warmth. “Just incase.”

And as he withdrew his hand from your face, the loss of his touch was like a phantom ache, a reminder of the connection you desperately fucking craved. His eyes, deep and intense, lingered on your lips for a fleeting moment, a silent testament to the desires that simmered beneath the surface. As he pulled himself up to his feet, he broke his eyes from yours, and with deliberate steps, he retreated, the distance between you growing--but just when you thought he would disappear into the night, he paused, glancing back over his shoulder.

“And to answer your question--yes, I have dreams…” his voice, laden with a mix of vulnerability and yearning, hung in the air like a fragile promise. “But they’re only good when you’re in them.”

——————-

Find sixteen->

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tteokdoroki · 1 year

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Look me in the eye tell Nagi doesn’t stand behind his girlfriend groping her boobs like stress ball. Non sexual. Just squish 💀🥲

grabs you by the face and looks you directly in the eye - you are so right!!!

you hear the jingle of his keys and the door opening before you see him but don’t bother to look up as you work on finishing off the dishes.

on good days, nagi greets you with a call of your name — languidly, albeit excitedly, making his way to whatever room you respond from so he can flop into your lap and have you play with his hair as a way to wind down. today, there’s nothing but silence only interrupted by pockets of nagi’s sneakers squeaking against the hardwood floors of your homey hallways before the warmth of his chest is pressed up against your back.

“hey baby,” you coo, voice brimming with considerateness and affection as you continue to wash dishes from the night before. “bad day?”

seishiro makes a noncommittal noise before his head drops to your neck, snow white locks tickling just under your chin while his hands settle on the gentle slope of your waist — itching to move upwards.

“wanna talk about it?”

“mmh, no. don’t wanna be a bother.” he replies absentmindedly, twirling a loose thread on the hem of your (his) shirt to distract from the thoughts weighing heavy on your mind. “s’too much of a drag to think about anyways.”

as nonchalant as your boyfriend presents, you can always tell when something irks him a little more than usual. “ you’re never a bother to me, seishiro. don’t be silly, feeling like this might go away if you tell me.” you choose your words carefully, hearing him hum against your shoulder as his lashes flutter against your skin. nagi’s quieter when he’s in a bad mood, his face is usually blank but his deep grey eyes will tell all — so as you lean forward to place a plate on the drying rack, you spare nagi a knowing glance.

your shirt rides up when you lean forward and so do his large and calloused hands, reaching your supple chest before you can even realise. blue lock’s genius lets out a sigh of relief as he squeezes your breasts between his fingers — choosing that exact moment to speak.

he’s just happy that you’re wearing nothing underneath his clothes. “i think reo’s mad at me again.”

“oh baby, what makes you say that?” resuming your task, you rinse the suds off of your favourite mug and listen intently — smiling to yourself when your boyfriend gives you another squeeze.

“i dunno…i got partnered up with isagi for drills today…” nagi pushes your boobs up and breathes out in content, rolling the warm mounds of flesh in the palms of his hands. “‘n he just seemed mad, bringing up the fact that i chose isagi over him at the second selection. such a pain. s’been years, shouldn’t he be like… over it?” squeeze.

proud of him for communicating his feelings properly, you angle your head to give nagi a kiss to the side of his own. he bristles at the warm contact of your lips against his skin, letting your chest go with one hand to draw loving patterns over your tummy.

“i can see why he might be hurt or upset but, like you said, it has been years and you needed to do what you thought was best, to become the best.” you shrug simply, ignoring the heat bubbling below your surface as seishiro squeezes and pinches and massages all of the places that make tick. you decide to worry about that later, because right now all he needs is comfort and stress relief. “you didn’t do anything wrong baby, but if this is still bothering you by tomorrow then you’ll need to talk to reo about it, kay?”

these a beat of silence where nagi trails kisses down from your neck to your shoulder before slumping against you entirely. “yeah okay, it’ll be a hassle. but i will.” he mumbles, dropping his arms to wrap securely around your waist — with no intention of letting you go. “can we go for a nap now? my feet hurt ‘n i wanna lie on your boobs.”

“seishiro, i’ve been letting you cop a feel for the last ten minutes!” you squeal as he pinches up your sides again, playfully. “these dishes aren’t gonna do themselves!”

you feel the white-haired player smirk against you, nuzzling his head into the junction of your neck one more. this time he sneaks his hand under the cotton material to pinch one of your nipples,

“dishes can wait, you know it feels better if i touch you when my clothes aren’t in the way, angel.”

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scarthefangirl · 11 months

Text

Admit it

Hobie brown x fem!reader

Request: Can I get a hobie brown x stubborn fem! reader. Like they obviously like each other but won’t do anything about bc of her. Hobie keeps asking what’s up and she just brushes it off. Turns out, she just wants to protect him.

Warnings: Some language, angst, poorly written lmao, not proof read

Story type: Blurb

PART 2 |

Masterlist | REQUESTS OPEN

After a particularly pressing mission, your new focus was on the grumbling in your stomach.

I grab a tray and fill it with food, rushing to an empty table. As I take my first bite, hear a tray slamming down across from me. I glance up and see Pavitr smiling at me over the table.

"So," He says cheerfully, drawing out the 'o'.

"Yes?" I ask, mouth full of food. The second I have enough swallowed, I take another large bite.

"You and Hobie…. What's the deal?" He inquires and my face immediately heats up. I take a moment to swallow my food and reply simply,

"There is no deal."

"You guys flirt all the time! You obviously like each other." He presses. My heart races at the thought of Hobie and I consider confiding in Pav. Nausea twists into my stomach and I just shake my head and take another bite. The topic is not up for discussion. "Y/N, you deny your feelings every time someone asks. Why won't you admit you like him? You guys could be so happy." My chest tightens and for a second I nearly forget how to swallow.

"There's no feelings." I shrug.

"Admit you like him and spare us all this agony of waiting!" He exclaims and luckily I am saved from Pav's interrogation when Hobie takes a seat next to him, Gwen and Miles plopping down next to me.

"Admit she likes who?" Hobie asks with a smirk, although he already knows who he was asking about. I just stuff my mouth with my lunch, barley taking a break to breathe. Throughout lunch I catch his gaze on me, not attempting to hide it, and I feel my stomach churning.

I survive lunch unscathed and head to the only place I feel like I can really breath, the roof of the building I was just eating in. I sigh in relief the second I step into the open, freshness of the outdoors. I take a seat, dangling my legs off the edge. I breath in and out evenly, staring out at the vast view of headquarters. The spider people walking and flinging around look like ants from my elevated position.

I sit like this for a while. Calm and away from the stress of headquarters. But it is ruined when a voice calls out behind me, drawing nearer.

"Y/N what are ya doin up here?" The familiar British voice rung in my ears, immediately placing butterflies in the pit of my stomach.

"It's peaceful," I say, looking at Hobie as he sits next to me. "Or, it was." I tease. We settle into silence, both staring forward. He bounces his legs as they dangle and I can hear his heavy breathing, subconsciously matching it. His proximity causes shortness of breath and I am about to get up when he speaks, breaking the silence.

"Its a beautiful view." He states and I nod. We both turn to face forward again, the wind humming in my ear and blowing my hair gently. I wish we could be here forever, sitting in each others quiet presence. But we can't.

I notice him scooting closer, slowly. If I blinked I wouldn't have even noticed him closing the gap between us. I can't help the sick feeling overcoming me, making me want to free fall off the edge.

We both look at each other, holding eye contact. Normally one of us would ruin the moment with a snarky comment, but instead he begins to lean in slightly. I feel his breath and it sends shivers down my spine. For a minute I want to kiss him, well, I always want to, but for a fleeting second I almost do. I wish I could freeze time, just like this, and stay like this forever.

"I- I can't." I whisper, heart breaking as I pull back. I turn away, missing the hurt flash across his face. This isn't the first time I've ended a moment before it can begin. I know I'm leading him on, but he makes it hard not to succumb to the moment. But a certain spidermans voice rings through my head in these moments, clearly saying "You have to keep your distance."

"This is one fucked up game darlin," He sighs with a humorless chuckle and I know he's right. He doesn't understand how bad I want to be his everything. He doesn't understand how much it hurts me to be the bad guy. He doesn't understand the longing I feel.

"You're so good at games though," I laugh, and he knows what I'm getting at.

"I flipped the board one time in the game of Life. It is a major misconception of real adult hood. Not everyone wants to get married or have kids or go to university," He rolls his eyes, and I don't mind his rant. I chuckle and like that, it's like the almost kiss never happened.

"You guys completed the mission?" Miguel questioned harshly. Everyone nods and he continues, "How was the performance?"

"Everyone did well," Gwen says and everyone hums in agreement. "Pavitr and Miles did exceptional with getting the people out." She adds.

"Y/N you specifically disobeyed orders and went into the building when you were supposed to be helping Gwen." Miguel snaps and I feel embarrassment bubbling in my stomach.

"She don't follow rules, if she did she'd be boring." Hobie says which earns a vicious glare from Miguel. Hobie puts his elbow on my shoulder, head in his hand, and leans his weight on me. I feel scarlet crawling up my neck and spreading onto my face. I catch Miguel's fixed glare on me and look to the ground.

"Hands off Brown." I grin and step to the side, causing him to loose balance for a moment. He passes me a dirty look and I laugh at him.

As everyone is leaving, Miguel tells me to stay back. My shoulders tense and I can't bare to look him in his red eyes. "Y/L/N. Have you been following my orders?" He demands.

"Hmm, what were they again?" I pretend to forget, scrunching my face and holding my chin to annoy Miguel. It works, his scowl deepening.

"Y/L/N, I tell you everyday. You can't date Hobie. You have to keep your distance. It's better that way."

"I know. I know, okay?" I groan, wishing he wouldn't stress it so much. It only makes it hurt me worse. He just pinches the bridge of his nose, no doubt mentally cursing me.

"You can't disrupt the canon." I roll my eyes at his comment.

"I know." And with that I turn around and stomp out. I can't stand this. Not being able to be with the boy I'm head over heels for, all because I'm supposed to have my first kiss with someone else.

That's my fucking canon event. My first kiss, and then other bullshit. I can't kiss Hobie because that's not my canon first kiss, and have to keep my distance because its canon that my first kiss happens on my first ever date so I have to wait to go on my first date for some idiot from my universe.

I'm so entranced in my thoughts as I walk aimlessly around, not knowing where I plan on going, when I bump into Hobie. I nearly fall but he catches me and helps me get my balance. Again, blush creeps onto my face.

"Now you're literally falling for me," He smirks, the lighting causing his rose ring to sparkle. I narrow my eyes and snort. "You alright?" He asks in a mocking way.

"Yeah, sorry," I grumble and step out of his grasp.

"Didn't you fall on me the first time we met?" He reminisces, walking with me as I shuffle forward. I remember as well, I had just joined and I had pissed off a spider cat, I was running from it when I bumped into him and took him down. I immediately fell for him, ironically.

"I can't forget when we first met." I start and his eyes widen in surprise at my sentiment. "But I'll keep trying." Which causes him to glare at me andd flip me his middle finger.

"Aren't you miss snarky?" He elbows me and I laugh. We walk together for awhile, to nowhere in particular. Eventually we catch up to Miles and Pav, who wiggle their eyebrows at us.

"Ooh, look at the love birds." Miles nudges Pavitr, a sly grin on his face. Although I know where they are coming from, it doesn't stop my heart from dropping.

"Where?" I play dumb and look around with a fake jaw drop.

[Two days later]

We have finished working for the day and a lot of my spider friends are chilling in one of the many living rooms in headquarters with me.

"Anyone else starving or just me?" Peter b asks, Mayday crawling on his shoulders. I nod hastily in agreeance. "Im going to get some dinner, who's with me?" He stands and a few others do too.

"I think I'm just going to head home to eat, but thanks!" I smile and wave them off. They linger outside for a moment, trying to decide on something.

"Want to go back with me and grab a bite together?" Hobie asks, staring into my eyes. I avert his gaze, cheeks burning.

"I'm okay, thanks though." I say with a faltering smile. My eyes fall to the floor as I hear the murmurs of the group quiet at the sound of my rejection.

"Another time then." He smirks but I notice the grimace behind his expression.

"Maybe," I lie for his sake and head back to my universe as quickly as possible.

"I can't believe you did that!" Pavitr gags in disgust.

"it's not so bad," I shrug and take another bite of the mayo lathered corn. Miles shudders in disgust and Gwen rolls her eyes. I lift another spoonful to my mouth when the spoon is snatched from my hand as Hobie takes a seat next to me. He stuffs it into his mouth and swallows, then makes a scrunched up expression that leaves me staring slightly.

"That's putrid." He grimaced and I shrug once more.

"You just don't have an exquisite palette like I do." I puff my chest out and grin. He digs into the contaminated corn again, scooping another bite and eating it. "I thought it was putrid?"

"I don't believe in consistency," He gives me a side eye and I roll my eyes.

"Why don't you just admit you guys are in love?" Gwen blurts then turns pink in embarrassment. I immediately turn my head from Hobie, praying he doesn't notice the fluster evident on my face.

"Yeah Y/N, admit it." Hobie mocks and I shake my head.

"there's nothing to admit. I don't like Hobie." I say.

"Yes you do." The table says at the same time, including Hobie.

"No i don't."

"Oh please, admit it already." Miles groans.

"No, there isn't anything to admit."

"Yes there is," Hobie smirks and I fight the burning sensation that stings my cheeks.

"No." I press.

"Yes." He continues. Gosh, I just want to strangle him.

"No. Stop it." I say, heart dropping. I can't like him why can't he be okay with that? I can tell he feels guilty for pressing, which makes me feel bad for snapping. "Sorry, I'm sorry." I close my eyes tightly and sigh, getting up from the table and going to my safe place. The roof.

I am welcomed with a gush of wind that blows my hair into my eyes and mouth. I have to continuously brush the hair away as I sit in my usual place. Even with the hair in my face and the wind burning my skin slightly, its still calming. Until its not.

"Y/N!" Hobie calls in a sing-song voice and I close my eyes in aggravation. He takes a seat next to me and I feel a lump growing in my throat. I just want to hold him and kiss him and hug him and never let him go.

"Do you pretend to like me, or pretend not to?" He asks and it takes me a second to understand.

"I don't do either." I say flatly, standing up to leave. Miguel would want me to walk out and keep my distance. And that's what I am doing, walking away, until Hobie uses his webs to bring me tumbling into him. I gasp in fear that I'll fall over the edge but Hobie catches me. I pant to catch my breath as i sit wear I was before.

"I should push you off this damn roof, Brown!" I shout.

"Oh please, you're fine. You're just proving my point. I know you, if you didn't like me than you would've pushed me." He chuckles and then gets a serious look on his face. "Why do you act like you don't like me? Am i-" he groans, embarrassed of his next question. "Am I doing something wrong?"

He's looking at me with the saddest expression I've ever seen him make and it nearly causes the lump in my throat to escape into a sob, but I manage to keep it down.

"You're not doing anything wrong Hobie." I sigh and gaze into his eyes, my own glossed over.

"Then what is it?" He demands, "You owe me an explanation!"

"I also owe you like 40 bucks, so what?" I try to play it off, despite the crack in my voice, hoping we can toss this in the bin of 'forgotten' moments. We have a lot of them.

"Y/N." Is all it takes for tears to spring out of my eyes. He looks surprised, scooting back slightly. I rub extremely hard at my eyes with my hands until I've relatively stopped.

"Sorry the wind got in my eyes." I laugh, but its not even half hearted. When he looks at me I know he doesn't believe a thing I say.

"Just tell me the truth." I meet his eyes as he speaks and feel my heart breaking at how badly I want to smash my lips against his. We stare into each other's eyes so deeply it makes me want to shuffle off the edge. My face twitches towards his and then I pause.

"I can't Hobie." I whisper but it is pointless to say anything, the look we're sharing tells enough truth. Before I realize what we're doing I am swept in the moment and we begin to kiss. Its better than I've ever imagined. His kisses me delicately, like I am fragile. I suppose I am, considering this may be the only time we kiss. We should savor it.Despite his gentleness, I kiss him with urgency and desperation. I need this. I need him.

After a moment, reality comes crushing in. I'm kissing Hobie. My first kiss, Hobie Brown. I can't do this! This is it, I've ruined everything. It's self sabotage. This is just making it harder than it has to be. I am about to pull away and tell him it's a mistake, but before I get the chance Miguel's voice booms from behind us.

"Y/L/N!" He shouts an I flinch, scrambling away from Hobie. Immediately I burst into tears. Its too much. "I've told you countless times not to do this. You had ONE rule." He yells and confusion clouds Hobie's face.

"I've ruined everything." I whisper to Hobie, but really to myself. Tears stream down my face as Michael's large shadow covers me in shade. "I'm sorry." I tell Miguel, throat tight as I keep myself from sobbing.

"It's too late Y/N. There's no going back now." He says it dangerously low. "Get up." I obey, and as I turn to follow him away I glance back at Hobie, who is no doubt utterly confused. I'm sorry, I mouth to him sadly.

I tried to stay away from him, but I couldn't.

part 2 ;)

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deliciousangelfestival · 26 days

Text

Be Mine

Character: soft!dark Lloyd Hansen x Lawyer!Female Reader

Summary: "Didn't I tell you before? I'll make you my wife," he murmured. The secret relationship between the heir of Hansen Corporation and the company lawyer took a dramatic turn.

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

A/N: By the way, this is the male version from Love Me A Little

'Click'

As you entered, the heavy click of the door echoed through the spacious penthouse apartment, exhaling deeply to release the pent-up stress from another grueling day at Hansen Corporation.

Working as a company lawyer had its perks but came with many responsibilities that grew taller each day.

Switching on the lights, you were startled to find someone seated on your plush couch. Your uninvited guest exuded an air of confidence, legs crossed casually as he waited for you.

"Stressful day?" Lloyd's smooth voice broke the silence, his gaze fixed on you with a hint of amusement.

You blinked, momentarily taken aback. "Lloyd. What are you doing in my place?"

"I made a spare key," he replied nonchalantly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

You resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of your nose in frustration. One of the downsides of working for Hansen Corporation was your complicated relationship with its heir, Lloyd Hansen.

The relationship between you and Lloyd was complicated and steamy at the same time. However, you knew you had to end this secret relationship since he would be engaged to another influential family, much like his own.

Rolling your eyes, you made your way to the fridge, craving the cool relief of a bottle of mineral water. Opening it with a satisfying hiss, you took a long drink, the cold liquid soothing your frayed nerves.

As you reached to set the bottle down on the counter, Lloyd intercepted it with a smirk, taking a swig of water while holding your gaze steadily.

With a frustrated sigh, you held out your hand, palm open. "Give me the key."

But Lloyd's smirk only widened. "No," he replied teasingly, daring you to challenge him further.

You heaved a heavy sigh, the weight of the situation pressing down on you. "Lloyd, you're going to be engaged to someone. We have to stop this."

Lloyd fell silent, his expression inscrutable. Sometimes, his silence unnerved you, sending a shiver down your spine. Then, he let out a low chuckle, sending a chill down your spine. "And throw away all the memories we've made in this place? I don't think so."

His arms crossed defiantly over his chest, his gaze unwavering. "I never thought you could be this cold. Am I the only one who's invested in this?"

Leaning in closer, he locked eyes with you, his voice low and intense. "Besides, I don't like her at all. Her eyes lack the fire that burns in yours. Yours are brighter, full of determination and resilience. That's why you wanted to be with me."

Your jaw clenched as you met his gaze head-on. "So what if I'm ambitious and a workaholic? At least I know where I stand. We can't be together, Lloyd."

But he reached out, cupping your cheeks in his hands and drawing you closer. "That's what I like about you," he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. "You're a hardworking woman."

His touch sent a shiver down your spine, but you pushed his hand away, the intensity of his gaze unnerving you. "Stop joking, Lloyd."

But his expression remained serious as he spoke, his words sending a shockwave through your senses. "I may enjoy making jokes, but not about this. I'm serious. You won't be my mistress. I'll make you my wife."

You gasped, disbelief coursing through you as you struggled to comprehend his words. Pushing against his chest, you tried to put distance between you, but his grip only tightened. "Stop it, Lloyd."

But his resolve remained unshakeable as he locked eyes with you, determination burning in his gaze. "I'm not joking. I'm dead serious. I'll make you my wife."

You couldn't believe what you had just heard. Your heart pounded in your chest, threatening to burst from the sheer weight of Lloyd's words.

Without a second thought, you seized his hand and practically dragged him towards the door with all your might. Despite his towering stature, you were fueled by a surge of adrenaline, determined to put an end to this madness. "You need to go," you insisted, your voice strained with urgency.

But Lloyd only chuckled, his amusement evident even in the face of your desperation. "I'm not joking," he insisted, his tone resolute. "I'll show you just how serious I am this time."

You hummed in response, successfully pushing him out of your apartment. As the door clicked shut behind him, you leaned back against it, your chest heaving with exertion. Closing your eyes, you let out a heavy sigh, willing your racing heart to calm.

It would be a lie to say you had never dreamed of becoming Mrs. Hansen. But you knew deep down that it was impossible, given the vast difference in your social status.

#########

A few days had passed since the tense encounter with Lloyd in your apartment, and you returned to work at the company, trying to maintain a sense of normalcy. You hadn't seen or heard from him since that night, and you hoped it would stay that way.

But as you focused on reading through a stack of documents, the hushed whispers of your colleagues caught your attention, drawing you into their gossip.

"I never thought a playboy like him would get engaged," one of them remarked.

Another nodded knowingly. "Well, it's normal for the 1% like them to strengthen their connections and business through marriage."

You gritted your teeth, the bitterness rising within you at their nonchalant discussion of Lloyd's engagement. But before you could voice your frustration, one of your colleagues let out a piercing scream, "OMG!!! OMG!!!" Causing everyone to turn and stare.

"What the-?" you began, but your words trailed off as the screaming girl approached you, her phone held out eagerly.

"OMG... You and Lloyd?" she exclaimed, her voice shrill with excitement as she thrust the phone towards you.

Your eyes widened in shock as you looked at the screen, revealing a photo of you and Lloyd cuddling intimately on a beach resort. The realization hit you like a ton of bricks—Lloyd had posted the photo, for all the world to see.

As the realization sunk in, the office erupted into chaos, with whispers and gasps spreading like wildfire. "Turns out there's a secret romance in the company," one of your colleagues remarked, fueling the fire.

One of your colleagues chimed in with a speculative question. "Does this mean the engagement is cancelled?"

"Shit," you cursed under your breath, feeling the eyes of your coworkers boring into you. With a sense of urgency, you gathered your composure and swiftly left the floor, making a beeline for Lloyd's office.

Whatever his intentions were, you needed answers, and you needed them now.

You didn't bother knocking; you simply barged into his office, disregarding even his secretary's attempts to halt you. As you entered, you found him lounging in his leather chair, every inch the powerful and commanding figure.

He was already waiting for you, his eyes gleaming with a hint of mischief.

"What are you planning, Lloyd?" you demanded, your voice dripping with both frustration and anticipation.

A smirk played at the corners of his lips as he leaned back, the leather creaking beneath him. "To show the world the woman I love," he replied, his voice husky with desire.

Your pulse quickened at his words, your body responding to the raw intensity in his gaze. "Your family will never accept someone like me," you protested weakly, though the fire in your eyes betrayed your true feelings.

Lloyd's expression softened as he rose from his seat, moving closer until there was barely any space between you. "Stop doubting yourself, my love," he whispered, his voice low and seductive. "My family knows about us, and they've given us their blessing. They can't wait to welcome their future grandchildren."

Your breath caught in your throat as he trailed a finger along the curve of your jaw, sending shivers down your spine. "I'm not pregnant," you managed to whisper, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart.

But Lloyd only chuckled darkly, his touch igniting a fire within you. "That's why we have to work hard," he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear in a tantalizing caress.

Leaning in close, he whispered into your ear, his breath hot against your skin. "Didn't I tell you before? I'll make you my wife," he murmured, the words dripping with desire and determination, igniting a fierce longing within you.

You shivered at the sensation, your senses overwhelmed by the electric tension between you. Unable to resist any longer, you closed the distance between you, your lips meeting in a fiery kiss that left you both breathless and hungry for more.

"Oh, how you wish you could hate him."

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