#had to throw in the towel for this drawing
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The Mentor Pt. 6
Finnick Odair x Reader
Summary: Five more years of victordom have passed, but the Capitol is still throwing surprises at you. This time, in the from of
Part Five
A/N: SURPRISE! This is coming back because I felt like it and some lovely folks left comments recently ♥️ we can blame my absence on this semester, but thank putting off a 14 page final paper for this bout of productivity! (Also I was going for a ranch vibe with this pic? I'll start putting his face back on these soon lol)
Warnings: description of blood
Tears welled in your eyes as you finished dicing yellow onions, and you wiped your face with the back of your arm as you turned to scrape them into the pot. Caesar Flickerman’s voice floated in from your living room, the TV playing in the background so you could keep an eye on the quarter quell special. Count on Caesar to draw the whole thing out, emphasizing the significance of the anniversary and whatnot. You couldn’t help but be curious, though. The last quarter quell had fifty tributes, and you weren’t even alive to see it. You had, however, seen its effects on your occasional drinking buddy, so you were certain this year would be a doozy.
It seemed Caesar was finally getting to the point as you began chopping a red pepper. He introduced the President, and your hand tightened around the knife as Snow began his address. That voice haunted your dreams, and hearing it at home was far more unpleasant than anywhere else. You did your best to tune him out. That was, until he announced it.
“As a reminder that even the strongest cannot overcome the power of the Capitol, on this, the third quarter quell games, the male and female tribute are to be reaped from the existing pool of victors in each district.”
Your ears began to ring, and suddenly, you couldn’t hear the rest. Existing pool of victors. Existing pool of victors. Sharp pain brought your vision back into focus, and you blinked to find blood from the backs of your knuckles spilling over your pepper. Though your brain stopped moving, your hands hadn’t.
You took a silent step back from the counter, staring at the ruined cutting board. Tearing your gaze away, you started rifling through cupboards trying to find a towel. The ironclad grip your dominant hand kept on the knife wasn’t helping, but it certainly hadn’t occurred to you to let it go. Out of options, you shoved your hand under the faucet and watched water carry excess blood away.
Vaguely, you registered the pain in your hand as your water heater got to work, but your eyes stayed locked on the drain. A loud ring of the phone startled you out of your reverie, to the point where you’d launched your still-dirty kitchen knife into the wall next to it. But it pointed you in the direction of some towels, at least, and you snatched a clean one from the laundry basket on the stairs.
Sat on the second to last stair, you hunched over to wrap your hand. The world felt surreal as you stared at your shoddily covered wound, only looking up when your door burst open. You weren’t surprised to see Darla. Her scraped knees, bloody nose, and breathlessness didn’t shock you either. She probably fell when running over, but you were sure you looked just as frazzled. Grabbing her a towel from the basket, you nudged her with it before she could sit.
“Answer Finnick.”
She picked the phone up from the receiver, doing a double take when she registered the kitchen knife.
“Howdy,” she huffed, licking her top lip and clearing some blood.
You could barely hear Finnick’s resigned tone from the other end. “Hey, D,” he breathed. “How’s…” he trailed off.
“Well, there’s blood on the cabinets,” your head popped up when she said it. You hadn’t even noticed the trail you’d left in your wake, “Water on the floor, and a knife in the wall.”
The faucet was still on, too, and you definitely hadn’t turned off the stove. It was a relatively generous assessment from her.
“Will you put her on?”
Darla stuck the phone straight in your face. When you grabbed it she reached for another towel, and pushed it along the floor with her foot.
“Finnick,” your tone was almost too even for the circumstance.
“Don’t do it,” Finnick warned, knowing you far too well.
“Save it,” you shot right back, “I know you’re thinking it too.”
“I don’t have a choice,” he said firmly. "They all have kids. Who would I be if I didn’t?”
Though Darla was busy cleaning up after your spell, you weren't stupid enough to think she wasn't listening. “You know I feel similarly,” you chose your words carefully.
Finnick did know, he’d seen what you’d given up for Darla. How you’d put yourself through the wringer for years just to spare her. He had no doubt you’d act just the same now. Only he didn’t want you to. He would’ve hated seeing Darla in there, but he’d be a dead man if you were in the arena with him. Your stubbornness didn’t stop him from making a final plea.
His soft call of your name cut your heart worse than you’d cut your hand. Suddenly, you could no longer bear speaking to the man who’d been your constant for the past five years. “I’ll talk to you soon. I’ll see you soon, Fin. Take care of yourself.” You stood and shoved the phone back on the receiver before he could say another word. Talking to him, thinking about him, neither would help you hold yourself together.
You stepped away from the phone, but stopped in your tracks to look at the knife. Some of your blood still lingered.
“Leave it,” Darla called from the kitchen, “it’s a bold new piece of decor.” She’d taken up interior design in the wake of her victory. You shook your head with a tiny smile tugging at the corner of your lip.
Coming to her side, you both looked down into the pot she’d taken off the stove. Burnt onion wouldn’t make much of a base. “There’s leftover pasta in the fridge,” you offered, sadly.
“Yes please,” she nodded quietly. You passed behind her to heat some up, and she settled onto one of the stools at your counter. It took you a minute one-handed, but Darla seemed too absorbed in quiet reflection to care.
She dug in as soon as you slid her a bowl, but you stopped short before sitting down with your own. She raised a brow.
“I’ll be back,” you shook your head, taking your dish and slipping on shoes. The wind whisked straight through your clothes as you crossed the street.
Darby had never been close with you, nor Darla. He was there when she won, and you could tell he was somewhat relieved to only bring home one casket. But you weren’t close enough for him to tell you that, because he wasn’t your trainer.
He wasn’t even there when you’d won. The story was that Darby was too ill. It was true, only the illness was drug induced. District Ten had only one trainer that year.
The woman who had trained Darby had trained you, and you were the last District Ten victor she’d lived to see. Sam was kind but incredibly sharp. Gentle, yet challenging. Observant and astute, she’d assessed you for all you were and marketed a more palatable version to the good citizens of the Capitol. Beyond helping you survive the games, she helped you navigate the aftermath. Without Sam and without your Nana, you wouldn’t have lasted a month outside the arena. She picked you up and dusted you off again and again like your mother had when you were a girl who thought she was invincible. No time had hurt as badly as losing your first tributes, though, but Sam saw you through that too.
Before your second try at mentoring, however, she’d died. A horseback riding accident was the official story, but Sam had left the leather watch she loved at your house just before. She insisted on doing the dishes after you’d made dinner, and you later found it by the sink. Sometimes you swore you caught glimpses of her long silver braid. Each time it happened, you opened the drawer of your nightstand to stare at her watch.
Her death hit Darby hard, they’d been the only two Ten victors for a while. He hardly held it together during Darla’s games. Afterwards, he fell apart.
You’d been mentoring with Darla ever since, comforting her with each loss as Sam had with you. But you knew Darby had seen this announcement, and everyone in the district knew what it meant.
You stood at his door a few minutes after knocking. You didn’t know what you were expecting, but you felt compelled to come over anyway.
A blue eye peaked from where the door had finally opened a crack. You held up the still-steaming bowl as an offering. Darby pulled the door fully open and stalked off into his house. Trailing after him, and closing the door behind you, you noticed how skinny he’d gotten since you’d last seen him.
“Thanks,” he said, raspy, when he took the bowl from you finally. You could only nod.
“I’m sorry,” you offered, knowing full-well how little it meant. Darby only sighed and shook his head.
He shrugged, stabbing a fork firmly into the bowl. “I always had that feeling,” he shook his head. Your brows furrowed in confusion, and he went on, “that it wasn’t over. Don’t tell me you’ve never thought about it. They own us, of course they’d want us back.”
His passe tone rattled you. You nervously wiped your non-covered palm on your pants, “Right.” You looked around his dusty home awkwardly, “Well, see you soon.” Trying to leave him in peace and for your own, you made for the exit.
“I’ll say hi to Sam for you,” he said from behind you, mouth full. It stopped you in your tracks. You couldn’t even look back at him.
“Thanks.”
————————
The months leading up to the reaping were hellish, with you and Darla trying to shed your rustiness. You insisted you both throw your all into prepping for this, but that was mostly a ruse. Volunteering for her had been your plan since the announcement. At the very least, you enjoyed your time at home with her. You hadn’t gotten any calls about trips to the Capitol, and Finnick told you he hadn’t either. At least they were letting you enjoy your last few months alive.
As Winter went, and Spring too, the day had finally come. Off to die for the second time.
You zipped the fly on a pair of jeans you hadn’t ever worn. Your stylists had shoved them in your closet a long time ago- since they looked exactly like the ones you’d won in. The head gamemaker your year had a background in fashion, and gave tributes plenty of chances to change dirty or worn clothes in for unique ones. People loved the look so much that denim had been a brief Capitol fashion trend. You figured it’d send a message to anyone who knew. After all, you’d cheated death in these once, you could do it again.
You were up early, and since you and Darla had agreed to arrive separately, you took a long walk around your home district. Your long lap, with sights you’d grown up loving and smells you’d always scrunched your nose at, was met with a few pitying glances. Eventually, it lead you to the Justice Building, and you took an extremely early seat. People took their places as the hours passed.
"Remember, it’s just for show," Sam’s voice rang in your head. It was the last thing she said to you before you entered the arena.
“Hey,” your head snapped to your right where Darla took her seat. She looked tense. You took her hand and squeezed it, a silent reassurance. It’s not you. You’ll be ok. I’ll miss you.
The district filed in for the ceremony, unusually unorganized. The only people the Peacemakers were concerned about policing, however, were already on stage.
Your annoyingly vibrant district escort began the ceremony, and you ignored her for as long as you could bear it. “Ladies first,” you blinked to attention, head held high. This was it. Dug your nails into your palm to stop your hands from shaking. You swallowed. I volunteer as tribute. You willed the words to the front of your brain, hopefully convincing your mouth to form them when the time came.
But you didn’t have to. She had called your name. You willed your face to remain impassive as you squared your shoulders. You forced yourself to take a proud step forward. Perception was everything here. You couldn’t look weak, not to the capitol, and not to your fellow tributes.
“I volunteer as tribute!”
Your well-crafted mask fell with the words. Shoulders sank as you turned to her in shock. Not once did you think she’d volunteer for you. But you could almost hear Finnick’s voice reminding you how similar you were. It was why you got along like a house on fire. Only, this time you had been so recklessly loyal to her you’d miscalculated. And it would almost certainly cost your tribute her life.
“Darla,” you breathed, quiet enough for only her to heard, and sharp enough for it to come across as scolding.
She didn’t even turn your way.
You were escorted straight to the train before Darby could even be picked by default. The new (old) District Ten tributes were escorted straight to the train as well. Only then could you confront your mentee.
“What the fuck was that?!” You stood in a rage. She walked right past you toward the couches, but you caught her wrist.
“You don’t get to scold me for saving your life,” she shook her head, and tugged her wrist free.
“Sure I do, when you’ve acted like a fool! It was random, D! We agreed to let it be random!”
“Oh, that’s rich!” She scoffed.
“Excuse me?!”
“You’re still lying! You really think I didn’t know you were going to volunteer for me?” Darla asked, throwing her hands up in frustration. She fell back onto the couch.
You stepped back, anger fully dissipated. “What?”
“You hung up on Finnick nearly every time I’d walk in,” she shrugged, “you’re brave not subtle.”
Your shoulders sagged, and you lowered yourself onto the luxurious Capitol sofa next to her. For a second, you let your head fall into your hands.
“Still,” you persisted, looking straight ahead, “it was going to be me. You didn’t have to-“
“I know what all you’ve done for me,” she said simply. You sat straight up, finding her face with wide eyes. No.
“Finnick?” He wouldn’t.
“Johanna,” she shook her head. Your shoulders sagged. It made sense that Johanna knew, she was almost in the same situation. And you wouldn’t have expected them to keep things from each other, not before they broke up at least.
“Darla,” you started. Why hadn’t she confronted you when she found out? How long had she been holding on to this knowledge? Did she think differently of you?
“You’ve been falling on your sword for me for five years,” Darla said solemnly, “it’s high time I took it away from you.”
Your stomach ached, and tears blurred your vision, “D.”
She pulled you in for a hug when your voice broke. “You gave me my life back,” she whispered, “I’m only doing the same.”
You pulled away from her, wiping vigorously at your face. “I won’t watch you lose.”
She sniffled a wry laugh, “then make me win. Maybe this time it'll stick.”
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Sammy Boy 😎🛹🛹🎸🎸🔥🔥🔥💯💯🎸🎸🔥
The guy of all time
Keep reading to see his glow up! He has changed… a lot these past few years
I threw together a quick collage showing off his glow up and my improvement! February 2021 contains my first ever Sam drawing :3
He used to be so round he looked like a baby 😭
#his pose looks dumb as hell#but I think he thinks it looks cool#been thinking about him ever since he and Alex lost the fave character polls lol#had to throw in the towel for this drawing#Procreate was lagging so much while I was finishing this ;-;#stardew valley#sdv#stardew valley fanart#sdv fanart#sdv sam#stardew sam#stardew valley sam
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Today's Daily Degurechaff is… answering her mail
#dailydegurechaff#youjo senki#the saga of tanya the evil#tanya von degurechaff#i sat down yesterday and put on an 8 hour yt video essay and just. committed myself to drawing ask responses#I made it through five hours before I had to throw in the towel and give up for the night
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fellas.... the art is not going well tonight, I'm ready to start gnawing on my sketchbook
WOE to the artist who tries to draw shit above their skill level AUGH
#IT DOESNT LOOK BAD PER SE BUT ITS NOT WORKING HOW I WANT IT TOOOOOOOO#if i had a hat rn I'd eat it out of frustration SBDHFHDJL#i want to share some kind of art though so djdsjfkdl I'll just. share this frustration LMAO#ignore the alphacritters in the bg btw lol thats there for the kiddos and Sunny in the system dsbdjdkl#i think theyre fun too and they were a cool weird thrift store find so djdkdl#THIS SORT OF STUFF IS WHY IM ALWAYS STARTLED WHEN PPL SAY I HAVE GOOD ANATOMY SKILL OR WHATEVER#i am FIGHTING for my LIFE in this sketchbook SBDHDJKL#i have no idea what im doing dhdkskl i just look at pictures and adjust things til they look right#75% of the time its pure luck the other 25% of the time i maybe have some sort of idea of the right ''vibe'' of the anatomy SHDJDKL#i gotta do some real studies at some point of muscle groups or smth idk dhfkdl maybe skeletal structure would be good#okay anyhowdy im rambling down here sorry SBJDKSL hope everyone is having a good day/night/etc#im going to... give up for tonight and go to sleep maybe djdhfkdl#throwing in the towel bc goddamn. bites my sketchbook. curse my inability to draw vertical angling and whatnot#dandy.cmd#doodlebug.jpeg
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focus on me.
pairing: mattheo riddle x reader
request: I NEED MATHEO OR THEODORE X FEM READER AND SHE JUST LOVES HIS HANDS AND ARM VIENS AND SHE WALKS INTO HIS DORM AND IS GOBSMAKED TO SEE HIS ABS AND SHE WANTS TO RIDE THEM AND SHES JUST SO OBSESSED AND THINKS HES THE HOTTEST MAN IN THE PLANET- AND SHE FOLDS LIKE A PRETZEL WHEN HE GIVES HER THOSE EYES- JESUS IM A CATHOLIC BUT THEO AND MATTHEO COULD BE MY NEW RELIGION-
author's note: big thanks to @writingsbychlo for listening to me rant about this man in her inbox. posting this now so she can wake up to her mans. the way that i would fold for mattheo so fast (theo look away). anyways, enjoy this purely smutty fic 😮💨
You were supposed to be studying.
When you came into his dorm, you specifically told Mattheo not to interrupt you under any circumstances. Usually, you preferred the library but some prat had accidentally set off a dung bomb, which meant closure until further notice.
You tried studying in your dorm, but your fellow housemates decided that there was no better time to throw a back to school bash in the common room than the night before your Ancient Runes exam. Harry and Ron, who shared the same class, appeared completely unbothered as they chugged firewhisky straight from the bottle.
Your roommate Hermione was long gone. Probably holed up somewhere in the dungeons with Draco. You followed your friend’s cue and snuck into your boyfriend’s dorm, narrowly avoiding Filch. It never seemed fair that the Slytherins got individual rooms, but tonight you had never been more thankful for it.
Mattheo had set up a whole battle station for you on his desk. There were fresh ink pots, newly sharpened quills, and blank parchment waiting for you when you arrived. After kissing your sweet and considerate boyfriend, you went straight to work.
By the time midnight struck, the parchment was filled with glowing runes, making your ink stained hands cramp from drawing out the symbols over and over again. To Mattheo’s credit, he kept to himself and read quietly on his bed while you studied.
You were so engrossed in the material that you barely registered him kissing you on the cheek before leaving to take a shower. That little mistake cost you because as soon as he walked back into his dorm with nothing but a towel on, you nearly spilled fresh ink all over yourself.
Water trickled down Mattheo’s chest, the little droplets snaking through his perfectly chiseled abs only to disappear beyond his v lines, which pointed like an arrow to what you knew was hiding underneath that towel.
The fabric hung dangerously low on his hips as he walked over to his dresser to pick out something to wear. You watched with rapt attention as he braced himself against the wood, those delicious, juicy veins protruding from his forearms and nearly making you dizzy with desire.
Finally, Mattheo turned. The silence had caught his attention and he smirked when he saw you ogling him.
“See something you like, pretty girl?”
You flushed. “Just got a little distracted.”
Mattheo’s grin grew. He sauntered over to you, leaning over so that he had you caged against the desk.
“Oh?” he asked, his voice low and husky and absolutely fucking sexy. “Maybe it’s time for a break then. You’ve been such a good girl studying so hard all night. I think you deserve a reward, my love.”
Your breath hitched as Mattheo’s lips grazed yours. He tilted your chin up, giving you a perfect view of those brown eyes. Then he gave you the look and you knew you were done for.
It was a look that said he wanted to devour every inch of you until you couldn’t even recall your own name. You gave in. Of course you gave in. How could you not?
“Maybe for a second…”
Mattheo took the opening. One arm snaked around your waist, bringing you up with him as he pressed you against the desk. His other arm crept up your back until he reached the nape of your neck, fisting your hair through his fingers as he kissed you roughly.
“Do you even know how fucking sexy you are, princess? My smart schoolgirl in her tiny little skirt.”
Mattheo carefully moved your studying materials aside before picking you up and setting you down on the table. He gripped the top of your thighs and brought you to the edge while sliding his tongue against yours. You whimpered as he grinded against you, showing you exactly how hard he was underneath the towel.
“Been thinking about bending you over this table all night,” Mattheo whispered in your ear. His hand climbed higher up your thigh and you felt your body instantly respond to his touch. “Bet you’re soaking wet for me already, aren’t you angel?”
You moaned as he toyed with the waistband of your panties. “Matty, please.”
Your boyfriend smiled at your nickname for him, knowing that he had you right where he wanted you. “What is it that you want, darling?”
“Touch me. Please.”
Mattheo smirked as he tugged your panties off. His lust filled gaze drank you in as he dragged two fingers through your slick folds.
“Fuck. You’re so wet. Is this all for me, princess?”
“Mhm,” you mumbled, nipping at his neck. “It’s not fair. You play dirty, Matty. You can’t just walk in here with nothing but a towel on.”
“Why not, angel?”
You sighed, tracing the hard planes of his chest. His muscles flexed under your fingertips as you gently raked your nails against his six pack. “Because you’re sexy and I can’t help myself.”
Mattheo chuckled darkly, plunging two fingers in your pussy. You bucked against his hand, watching in stunned silence as he withdrew it only to stick his middle and pointer finger into his mouth. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as he tasted you on him.
“This is exactly what I mean,” you whined. “For Godric’s fucking sake, how am I supposed to concentrate after that?”
“Maybe we can compromise, angel.” He shuffled through your parchments and stuck one to the wall. “I’m going to trace the runes inside of you and if you get them all right, then I’ll give you your reward.”
You swallowed thickly and nodded. Mattheo grinned before giving you a quick peck. “Pay attention, sweetheart.”
His fingers dipped through your folds once more and you gripped his arm, fighting the moan from escaping your lips. Mattheo curled his fingers inside of you, drawing a familiar shape.
“Urus,” you said in a breathy voice. “It means strength.”
“That’s right, angel.” He shifted as you ran your hands down his arms. You could feel his veins throbbing underneath your palm as he fingered you. “Don’t get distracted now. I know how much you love my hands. I promise they’ll be wrapped around your throat by the end of the night if you get all these right. Now focus.”
You nodded, eyes fluttering close as he traced another rune. “Algiz,” you answered. “For protection.”
“Hot and smart,” Mattheo announced proudly. “How’d I get so lucky?”
His lips grazed yours and you willingly parted for him, fluttering around his fingers as his tongue slid into your mouth. He pumped his digits inside of you, teasing and taunting.
“Let’s try something harder, princess.”
Mattheo’s skillful fingers prodded against your walls, sketching a complicated shape. You closed your eyes and focused. It was a tricky one, but you remembered the cris cross pattern.
“Inguz,” you said decidedly. “Fertility.”
“That’s right,” Mattheo said with a smile. “You're doing so well, sweetheart. One more and you can have anything you want.”
“Anything?” you asked with a small smile.
“Whatever that devious little mind of yours desires, my love.”
“Okay,” you replied. “I’m ready, then.”
Your boyfriend nodded, staring right into your eyes as he marked the last and final rune. It was an effort not to get lost in those warm, brown eyes. But you steeled yourself, determined to claim your prize.
“Rerth. For luck.”
“Good girl,” Mattheo said with a smirk. “Fitting since you’re getting lucky tonight, angel. Where should we start?”
You bit your lip, cocking your head at him. It was nearly an impossible choice. You wanted to kiss him. Bite him. Lick him. All of the above and more.
But there was one thing that stood out from all the other deliciously sinful choices. You pressed your palm against his abs and grinned.
“I want to ride your abs.”
Mattheo’s eyes widened. He hadn’t expected it, but fuck he was so down. He would’ve given you anything with the way you were looking at him right now.
“You never fail to surprise me,” he said fondly. “Well come on then, let’s make your filthy little fantasy a reality.”
In one smooth move, he lifted you off the table and deposited you on top of his bed. Mattheo reclined against the headboard and watched with hungry eyes as you straddled his stomach. He smiled as you slipped the tie off your neck and looped it around him.
It was a simple move, but so fucking sexy and possessive at the same time. You were claiming him. Mattheo was yours and you were his. You belonged to one another—mind, body, and soul.
Mattheo trailed kisses down your neck and throat, leaving marks on your skin as his deft fingers made quick work of the first few buttons on your blouse. He leaned back and admired his work, his hands gripping your hips while you grinded your soaking wet sex against his muscles.
He didn’t think it would feel this good. There was something about you using his body to get yourself off that fucking turned him on like no other. Mattheo lifted your skirt up, fisting the fabric in his hands and watching as you coated him with your arousal.
The little whimpers you were making sounded like music to his ears. “My good little slut,” he said, squeezing your tits as you rode him with reckless abandon. “You’re so fucking filthy, baby. Using me to get yourself off. I’m just your fuck toy aren’t I princess?”
“So good,” you murmured. “You feel so good, Matty.”
The desperation in your voice set him off. He gripped your hips hard enough to bruise and bucked forward, smirking in satisfaction when you moaned. The ridges of his abs rubbed against your clit, providing the perfect amount of pressure to the sensitive area.
“Keep riding me,” he said in a low, rough voice. “Just like that, angel. Such a good girl for me.”
You closed your eyes, lost to the waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Mattheo gripped your chin, his voice rough around the edges as he spoke. “Open your eyes, darling. I want to watch you cum.”
His rich brown eyes pinned you in place, drinking in every detail. That sexy smirk curved against his lips as he hooked his arms behind his head, admiring the view of his girl riding him.
“Look at you, baby. You’re making such a fucking mess. Such an innocent face, but you turn into a filthy whore when you’re with me.”
“Only for you, Mattheo.”
“Damn fucking right,” he said, sliding his hands under your skirt to rub at your clit.
You bucked against him, riding out the high. Heat exploded in your core and seeped into your veins. Mattheo kissed you roughly, staking his claim on you as he devoured your moans.
“That’s it, princess. Cum for me, pretty girl.”
The orgasm felt like a lightning strike. It hit you all at once, making your walls spasm as you came all over Mattheo’s abs. He cursed when he felt you soaking him through, utterly turned on by the mess that you’ve made. Mattheo had never been harder in his life.
Your boyfriend peppered kisses on your face, pulling you taut to him as you came down from the high. Mattheo brushed a lock of hair behind your ear, tilting your chin up so he could press his lips against yours. He groaned and held your hips down, grinding his boner against your ass.
“I’m not done making you cum, princess. You’ve got one more in you, don’t you angel?”
As sensitive as you were, your pussy throbbed at his words. When it came to Mattheo, you could never really get enough.
“I thought I only got one reward. You’re spoiling me, Matty.”
“There’s no question about it. You’re my spoiled rotten little princess. But this reward isn’t for you, it’s for me.” He smacked your ass, gesturing for you to get up. “Now come on, angel. I was serious about that desk.”
He smirked as he walked you back to his desk, his hands disappearing underneath your skirt as he massaged your ass. Mattheo kissed you roughly before he flipped you over, bending you on the desk so you were face down and ass up. He flipped your skirt up, hissing when he found you soaking wet again.
“You just can’t help yourself can you, princess?” He pumped himself in his hand before sliding the tip of his cock along your folds. “Gods, you’re fucking wet. Are you ready, baby?”
You whimpered, rocking your hips against him for more friction. Mattheo held you in place, fisting your hair in his hands.
“Use your words, darling. I want to hear you beg like the good little slut that you are.”
“Please, Matty,” you whined. “I need you so badly that it hurts.”
He kissed the base of your spine, grinning as he eased his length inside of you. Still sensitive from your last orgasm, you gripped the edges of the table as Mattheo buried his cock within your walls. Your legs felt like they were going to give out any minute, but he kept you upright, cursing when he felt how wet and tight you were.
“Fuck,” he grunted as he thrust into you slowly. Mattheo gripped you from behind, picking up the pace. Your pussy clenched around him like a vice. “Gods, pussy’s so good baby. You’re doing so well. Taking all of me like my perfect little whore.”
Mattheo fucking adored the way you blushed at his filthy words. He leaned over, capturing your lips in a sloppy kiss as he fucked you into the table. He thought he was going to pass the fuck out when you grinded back into him, meeting his movements to take more and more of him. Mattheo leaned over and shielded your head from the wall, making sure you were protected as the table shook underneath you.
The sound of skin slapping against skin mixed with your breathy little moans was enough to send him over the edge, but he wanted to make good on his promise. Mattheo always put his girl first. The boys were right. He might be just a little bit pussy whipped.
Even without the sex, you could’ve asked Mattheo to kill for you and he would’ve done so without question.
“I fucking love you, darling. I’d kill for you. I’d die for you,” he said, every word laced with conviction. “Forever and always.”
“I love you too, Matty. Forever and always.”
He kissed your cheek, the action surprisingly soft compared to how rough the sex was. You felt like you could’ve melted onto the floor.
“Cum with me, my love.”
Mattheo wrapped his arms around you as that familiar heat spread burned in your core. He held you as the orgasm rocked through your body, sharing in the euphoric high while the two of you finished together. His grip around you only tightened, hugging you from behind while he slowly pulled out. You were barely keeping upright as it was, your legs threatening to give out under you.
Without a word, your boyfriend scooped you into his arms and brought you back to bed. He cradled you against him, whispering praises and encouragement while stroking your hair.
“You did so well, baby. I’m so proud of you for remembering all those runes. You’re gonna ace your exam tomorrow.”
“You really think so, Matty?” You snuggled against him, burying your head in the crook of his neck. Mattheo stroked your back and placed a kiss on your temple.
“I know so, darling. You have no idea how proud I am for having such a smart girlfriend. I love bragging about you to our friends.”
You flushed. “Well, I couldn’t have done it all on my own. I had some help from my smart, sweet, and sexy study partner.
Mattheo grinned and kissed you gently. “Glad to be of service, my love.”
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#FERAL FOR THIS MAN#THE DELULU IS THE SOLULU#mattheo riddle#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheo riddle x you#mattheo riddle smut#mattheo riddle fluff#mattheo riddle x y/n#mattheo x you#benjamin wadsworth
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Simon Riley whose favourite hair was always yours.
The first time he touched your hair, you were both deployed. You were walking before him, your hair in a braid behind your head that was almost hypnotizing. You stick your head from behind a wall, and Simon pulls your braid the moment he hears gunshots to keep you away from the fire line. A whine escapes your lips that sounds almost like a kicked dog and you quickly look back to him. "Thank you, Lt." You mutter.
And in that moment, with your hair still in his hand, he knew he was in trouble.
Your hair doesn't glow in the dark, yet it always draws his attention. Like a lifesaver floating in an ocean. He quickly learns that he can't wait to touch it again, so he observes and waits for a chance to do so.
Like when you were rewriting a report on the mess hall, Price told you it was illegible and taking in consideration Price's handwriting you took it to heart. So there you were, writing again the pages with your best handwriting.
A lock of hair in the middle of your face had Simon almost sprinting to you to move it out of your face before you could it yourself. Of course he didn't say anything romantic, instead he said: "You are gonna go blind like that, and you are supposed to watch my back out there."
It wasn't romantic on its own, but his hand remained caressing the hair now behind your ear and when you looked up to meet his gaze, the both of you pulled away from each other as if you had been hit. "That line is dropping, start it again." He comments. "Yes, Lt."
On another occasion, you got late to practice, overslept. Obviously by your bed hair, not even time to brush it. Price quickly told you to fix it and Simon seriously considered if the insubordination would be worth it, because he would rip both his arms off if he could wake up everyday with that sight.
It was at that point that Simon realized he was doomed, because he had not been slowly pulled to you, he fell face first and being honest to himself, he was happy with it. He wouldn't admit it yet, it was easier to believe he only liked your hair.
And as time went on, it became more and more easy to find excuses to touch it.
Like when you got sick that one time, waking in the middle of the night to empty your stomach on the toilet. And it went on until the morning, when he found you sitting on the bathroom floor, too weak to walk back to your room.
Face wet with tears for not being able to stop throwing up, for being tired and for feeling useless. He quickly crouched down, paper towel in hand to clean your face. "Why are you here?" He softly asked, mask hiding his expression but his eyes gave away his emotions.
"I got sick." You mumbled, voice hoarse with the strain of the night.
"That I can tell, love." The nickname caught the both of you by surprise, but neither complained. "Let's get you to bed."
You nod, grabbing his hand to stand up, before another round of nausea hit forcing you to back down to throw up again. He quickly moved your hair out of the way grabbing it at the back of your head. "You are gonna get sick, Ghost. Leave me alone, I'm fine."
"Number one, I'm pretty sure your dinner from last night it's on my hand, so I believe we are past nicknames now." He says, being interrupted before being able to say the second thing.
"Don't touch my hair with puke on your hand!" You say grabbing his wrist, making him chuckle. You barely had energy to pull your head up and still tried to fight him.
"I would never, love. That's the other hand." He said looking as you wiped your mouth, breath getting knock out of him when you lock your gaze on his. "What is it?" You asked, confusing him. "Your name."
"Simon."
"Simon?"
"Simon Riley."
A beat of silence simmered on the bathroom for a second.
"That's a surprisingly sweet name, Simon."
And if the world had ended at that moment, Simon would have died a happy man.
But he didn't, instead he eased his way into your heart.
It wasn't hard, and soon enough Simon didn't need excuses to touch your hair. And touching your hair was the excuse to get you closer to him.
Like when he was dying to kiss your lips, but you wouldn't look up to him. Why wouldn't you look at him? Couldn't you tell it was killing him? So he fisted your hair, pulling back slightly; enough to make you look up but not enough to sting. And when his eyes met yours, he dived right into your lips. Moving his hands to cup your face instead of hair, needing to feel the warmth of your skin. The kiss pulling the air from his lung but still making him feel more alive than ever.
Or like when you finally had the time and intimacy to make love. And when he had you on his bed, knees apart and face buried on his pillow, he fisted your hair again, pulling your head back, because he needed to hear you moan his name while he filled you to the brim. Simon Riley was not a saint, but he would go through the hell his life has been again if it meant he got to experience this. Your cunt milking his dick, your smaller hand grabbing the wrist of his hand on your hip, your moans filling the room and when you looked back to him over your shoulder, his life got meaning and he kissed your lips.
Or like when you would cuddle, and he would do tiny braids on your hair he would forget to undo or tell you about and you would find out hours later when you would try to brush your hair and end up with massive knots. Walking to him ready to throw the brush at his head and you would find him hugging your pillow on his sleep, completely relax and content with himself.
Or like when years later, he brushed the hair sticking to your forehead by the sweat while you pushed his daughter to life. If he could take the pain away he would, but he knew you were the strongest woman in this world and could do it. He also knew you needed his comfort, so he moved his hand from your hair to grab your hand even if you crushed every bone inside.
Your hair was always his favourite, until your daughter was born. Because she had Simon's eyes, but she had your hair. And your hair was beautiful, but his little girl's hair was the proof of the love between Simon and you.
Simon Riley loved your hair, but he loved you more.
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#call of duty#ghost#simon ghost riley#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#cod x reader#cod#ghost cod#simon riley imagine#cod smut#ghost smut#call of duty x reader#cod modern warfare#simon imagine#ghost imagine#simon ghost imagine
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i absolutely need suna x reader having secret sex while the miya twins are a room across🫣
OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD
You had no real attraction to Suna, but it was just one of those nights where your brothers came home after a game, bringing his friends along with him to celebrate, and to avoid sitting in their sweat, they had to shower. Thank god you took yours before the boys made it. Being the last to shower when the floor is wet and it’s steamy already is literally the worst shit ever.
The problem was, Suna never really came over; therefore, he had no real way to know which room was your brothers’.
He had specific instructions to shower and take some clothes from his room. Looking back on it, he should’ve asked which door it is, but strutting back with nothing but a towel on his waist is not an option. So, he resorts to opening every door until he finds what he would think is the room of his teammate. Or rather…either of them?
Instead, the knob twists as you’re fully bent over in your walk-in closet, digging through a basket of clean clothes for a t-shirt. Of course it had to be the second you wanted to change when he walked in, and not when you were comfortably reading in bed with a little light on earlier. There’s no bra on your chest now, just a pair of navy blue lace panties.
Hey! On the bright side: they could’ve been cotton with “kiss my ass” stamped on the back.
Your arms draw up in an effort to hide your chest when you hear the twist of the knob and the door come flying open. Key word is effort, because now your breasts are pressed up against each other, which Suna believes is ten times worse for you than the position he found you in. At least when you were bent over, he had to imagine whatever he couldn’t see.
“Holy— shit!” you exclaim, eyeing the man at your door that’s actively dripping water on your carpet. His hair is fallen and sticking to his face messily, just enough for you to spot his slim eyes. He doesn’t say anything at first.
It’s mainly just him blinking blankly at you while you panic, searching the room for literally anything to provide some decency, but once you render the clear lack of any emotion you currently possessed in his body, it calms your nerves a bit.
He’s seen a woman before. It doesn’t make him any less prone to being attracted to puffy lips and nipples only covered by an arm, but it somehow soothes you to know he won’t make a big deal out of it and maybe not even mention it to your siblings.
Eventually, you throw on the nearest shirt over your head and pull your hair through, dirty or clean, still with no pants to match.
You sigh deeply, “What is it Suna?” It comes out in an irritated grunt.
“You know my name.” His eyebrows raise with surprise, but not as high as the average person’s would.
“Yeah, I do. Is there a reason you’re still here?”
He presses on: “How do you know it? Do they talk about me a lot?”
Your head drops in your palm to shake back and forth. “I can’t do this right now,” he overhears your mumble.
“My bad, I was looking for Tsumu’s room but got jumpscared instead.”
Despite saying this, he still stands in the doorway— not with it cracked, but with it wide fucking open— and it’s then when creaks from the stairs clears the air between you two. He doesn’t move, but you quickly shove him over to peek around the corner, then drag him into your bedroom before whoever it is gets the wrong idea by the view from the hallway.
While you’re turned after throwing him mindlessly into your room, he readjusts the falling towel around his waist. What he said finally hits you a few moments too late.
“Jumpscared?! You? I’m in the comfort of my own room when you barge in with nothing on!” Your hands gesture up and down his body as you scold him. “And don’t talk about my body like that!” Only he doesn’t really look at your eyes. When you’re done, he finds your attention.
“It was really an accident, but I’ll stay until whoever goes back downstairs,” he shrugs. “And why does it smell like sex in here?”
Your cheeks redden. There was a reason you were looking for a change of clothes. “It doesn’t.”
“Yeah, it does.” He flops back onto the bed carelessly, dipping your comforter.
“Stop! You’re getting my sheets wet.” His body has only slightly dried, but with the full head of hair he has, it hasn’t dried at all. “Suna, get up.”
“They probably already are.”
He closes his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest. His stature was not what you thought it’d be. He was tall and packed with muscle in his legs. You could tell that much by the pictures if you didn’t figure it out by the fact that when he’s sitting you’re still face to face, but on top of that, his abdomen was carved and his arms carried some weight too. Nothing compared to the sheer size of his thighs though; they had to be the size of your head. Just by photos he’s an average high school athlete, so it almost appears fake.
Unfortunately, as you were looking, his eyes had opened and he’d been watching you inspect him. Suna will always preach there are benefits to being as quiet as he is, like how he can pinpoint that your fingers come to pinch the edge of your shirt.
You clear your throat in hopes it will gather your thoughts too, then rectify his past statement. “They aren’t.”
“Right… like all the red tabs in this book are for nothing?” He reaches beside him to take it in his hands, then he flips through the pages quickly until he comes across one. “‘I run my fingers down her trembling thighs that yearn for my touch. You’ll take it like a—’”
Before he can finish what you remember is very unfortunately highlighted, you crawl over him to rip it out his hands and throw it. You chuck the literature nowhere in particular with embarrassment that can’t get any higher as he laughs, then you quickly retreat with a knee up on the edge of the bed. His laughter is a sweet sound. It makes sense why he’s friends with your brothers.
You don’t even notice you’re half-straddling him while you point your finger in his face. “What I read is none of your business.”
He spoke clearly and assertively when he read, and the last thing you need him figuring out was how bad your body desired he’d read the words to you again; he was already too observant.
“Of course. Forgive me for saying such vulgar things around my friend’s sister. She would never do such a thing.” Finally, he slowly sits up, which naturally makes you rise with him, so you place your hand on his shoulder to prevent from wobbling. Your thigh is beside his with your foot unstable on the floor. “She’s just so sweet and innocent, and definitely not up here alone reading book porn.”
Your breathing picks up at the proximity and the pressure of a question you can’t avoid. You search between both his eyes that do the same to you. He deserves a medal or something, because fuck— the shirt lifts just a little bit every time you fiddle with it and the lace sticks to your skin like glue. “I— uhm,” you stutter, removing your stability from his body and backing away from the bed.
Of course, to add to the fucking embarrassment, you stumble backward, but he reaches out to you. His hand firmly wraps around your wrist and the other is hooked behind your back when he jerks you back up to him. He only releases your wrist.
“Is that all you read?”
You shake your head. “I read regular romance and fantasy too.”
He nods, “Ah, I see. So you want the prince of a faraway land to twirl you around in his field of flowers saying how much he loves you, then you want him to make you beg to come?”
Your eyes shoot wide at the comment, only stretching the lazy smirk on his face.
“N-no,” you reply, even though that does sound extremely appealing.
“But you do want someone to ‘run their fingers down your trembling thighs’ though, right?”
To emphasize his point, he lets the knuckles of his hand trickle down the back of your thigh, just barely grazing the skin. The sensation shocks you and almost sends you forward. This can’t be happening. Actually, you pray it isn’t, so your eyelids slam shut.
This prompts his other hand to pinch either side of your jaw gently and drag your face to his. “Or lay you back and tell you to take it like a good girl.” His eyes flicker from your eyes, to your lips, then back up, noting the state of disbelief your countenance holds. He flattens the hand that stops just under your ass.
You almost melt in his hold, and this he knows because of the long breath you took after his words. It’s easy to infer you’re fairly untouched by not only your responses but how receptive you were. It was you two, only about an inch from each other now, waiting to see who would make the next move and risk something far worse than just a growing attraction. The twins flash in your head as a beat passes and you swallow.
“Yes. But that has nothing to do with you.”
Suna shines a smile with his teeth. “Your thighs are rubbing together.”
You look him up and down. “So?”
“Can I tell you a secret?”
You don’t look him in the eyes, they drop to your pillows. Before you can separate the thighs in question that are only disconnected by his fingertips, he nudges you forward onto him, bringing your hands back to his shoulders. You’re completely straddling while attempting to keep your eyes locked on his when his entire torso is on display. He leans forward to speak just above a whisper in your ear as if this is a normal occurrence.
“I can feel you dripping all over my hand.” The cool of his breath tickles your neck, only worsening as he continues. “Why is that?”
You’re at a loss for words at first, but you suck it up, holding your own. “Nothing to do with you. Maybe I went too hard earlier.”
He wholeheartedly chuckles at this response. “So you admit it?”
“Admit what?”
“That you were up here fucking yourself to your book?” His voice is an echo behind you since he’d decided to rest his chin comfortably on your shoulder.
“Yeah. Yeah— I guess I do. It’s not like you didn’t come in here and figure it out yourself,” your eyes roll.
“Which part were you reading?”
“Does it matter?”
“Yes.”
There’s a moment of silence. “She’d just decided to drop her toxic ex-boyfriend and his sister came to console her. The way she did it was kind of fucked up, and I think the slow burn is what made me look past it, but anyway— she brings her to a party, the boy she meets there happens to be the barista at the place she orders from every day, and he has a history with the main character’s ex. He hates him even though he’d gotten over it as years passed, but she really wants to get back at him, so they send an anonymous short video of them, um… together, and he gets really pissed off.”
Suna is quiet as he reviews what you just said. He admires your perception of the book and the passion to read. He goes, “You’re into that?” and then it’s your turn not to say anything, even with the amusement lacing his tone. You grow fidgety, and just when you don’t think any more words will be exchanged, he suddenly demands, “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“That. What you just did.” You shifted your weight from leg to leg as the silence grew longer. Just to see, you do it again.
“You’re grinding against me when you do that by the way.”
You giggle maliciously, continuing to go back and forth. It’s payback for teasing you the entire time. He comes to hold your hips still to prevent further movements, but in protest, you create an arch in your back to actually roll your hips down instead, ensuring he felt it.
“Okay, really, unless you want to move like that with my cock nine inches inside of you, I suggest you choose your battles now.”
You finally halt at the words because he was dead serious. He feels scratching along his shoulder blades at your fingers curling up in response, but not removing yourself. He still rests his head beside yours. “Oh, don’t tell me you’re into that too?”
So that’s how he ended up with his back to your headboard, head tipped up, looking at you through his pretty eyelashes as you wrap your hand around his slick length and reposition it to line up. You lower your body down, allowing your walls to open up for him. The stretch hurts only a little just because he’s so big.
You hadn’t kissed him the entire time, so he groans desperately when you wrap your fingers tightly around his neck and come close. He allows you to no matter how hard you squeeze.
This drives up your confidence with your pretty lace panties pushed to the side, making you raise to your feet.
“Shit,” he grabs ahold of your ankles between half-lidded eyes, and his mouth slightly dropped like he can’t believe what the fuck he’s seeing. “If Atsumu could see you now.”
The mention of your brother at all should turn you off, but it doesn’t. It only fuels you knowing that you’re actively riding his teammate. In fact, you must tighten around him, because he knows immediately.
“What? Does that turn you on? Fuckin’ slut.”
You whimper at the words, pressing your lips forward to his. You kiss him the best you can as he hungrily reciprocates.
The bed moves forcefully, but Suna knows the other guys are probably too busy downstairs to hear it, and whoever is in the other room may only potentially be a problem. So up and down you go, now slamming your ass against him and reddening his slightly tan, freckled skin.
“hhhmmm,” you whine, breathing shallow.
The brunette lets you go until your legs burn and you’re slowing pace. It’s driving him insane watching you chase your orgasm, using him like he was the perfect replacement for your fingers, in your own little world with your face twisted up in ecstasy and muscles straining. You were too stubborn to stop when he offered it to you, but he doesn’t mind. Not everyone has legs like his.
He instructs while inching his hips up the bed, “Fall back to your knees.” You do, and he grabs one wrist in each hand before digging his heels into the blanket and pounding up into you at a pace you don’t think you could ever meet. It’s rough and loud and you can feel his balls coming up to strike you from behind. Quite literally, it takes your breath away.
“fuck fuck fuck yes,” tendrils of your hair fall over your face when you lay your head down over his shoulder for stability. Aside from not being able to move, this is the best angle for the both of you. Your tits move over his face, which would allow him to suck and bite as he pleases while holding you still, and with the tilt of your body his fat tip reaches your most sensitive part.
You bounce over and over and he wishes he would have pulled your shirt up first. He’s grunting in your ear dangerously.
“Was this in your book too? Is this when he told her to take it like a good girl?”
You try to answer but it’s incomprehensible with the speed of his thrusts. “Again.”
“Y-yes,” you retry, finally getting something out. He’s satisfied with this, so he lets go of your wrists and pushes you upright, only slowing for the moment. This time, he wraps his fingers around your neck, just enough for you to breathe, while rolling his thumb across your revealed clit. The veins of his forearm show themselves and he peers up at you with a glare as if you were the most irritating thing to him.
How hard you were holding him is nothing compared to how hard he is holding you, and just that thought has your eyes threatening to fall closed.
“Then be a good. Fucking. Girl,” he punctuates each word with a harsh upwards cut of his hips, “and take it.”
“Oh God,” you connect your own weak hands around his, your mouth falling open with every moan that floats into the air. He holds your gaze with his threatening eyes, and if you tried to look anywhere but him, he’d pull you right back. “Suna, I’m coming,” you rush it out like there’s no stopping now. And honestly, you’re currently wishing you didn’t say it at all, because you know if he told you not to, your body would try its best to comply.
“No the fuck you’re not.”
Godammit.
Removing his finger from your nub, he moves the hand to meet the other at your throat. You couldn’t speak even if you wanted to, which you did, just to let him know that this would only make it worse. There’s a movement: you’re coming down on him yourself with the force of the thrust driving you up.
Your mouth creates the words, but they don’t come out. Suna knows anyway. “Please.”
“No.” And it’s as simple as that, because then he says, “Do you hear that?”
Of course you don’t, he just asked to see if you were sane enough to come back to your senses and focus your hearing. His tight hold on you is enough to leave a mark, but not enough to prevent your head from slowly shaking back and forth.
“On the other side of that wall is your brother. Both of them.” Your eyes shoot wide at the same time his thrusts calm down. He still continues, it’s just with a deep grind to prevent the hard slapping of skin, and he brings your forehead to his as he speaks to you. “Come now and both of us are in trouble.”
He has valid reasons to infer that it is specifically the twins, but he’s sure you don’t want to hear those right now. If it was up to him, you would have been throwing your head back and showing that arch he imagines you had before he intruded in on you changing, but holding it above your head like meat to a starving dog was fine too.
“Please let me come Rin, please. I’ll be quiet,” a chaste kiss to the tip of his nose ends your pleading, hoping it softens him up with the use of his first name.
And maybe it worked, because his eyebrows curl upwards with pity when he explains, “We both know you’re too vocal for that, princess. How about we try something else?”
You nod frantically, raising off his length and letting him lay down completely while you wait for directions. He gets situated by moving pillows out of the way. “Come here.”
You realize now the pity he expressed was fake. Swinging your leg over his waist, you begin to line yourself up.
“No. come here.”
You stare at him dumbfounded.
“Up here, towards me,” he ushers his hands. You scoot closer towards his chest with your hands on his pecs, not sure how much closer the two of you can get.
“My face, baby.”
Instead of getting angry with you, he kept his tone. It was little but it made you feel good. “Oh.”
You come to a hover over his lips, contemplating a lot and nothing at the same time, mainly if this man was really under you telling you to do what you’re doing.
“Sit.”
“Are you sure?” You clarify.
“Yes. Sit before I make you read your porn to me.” This brings your eyebrows in with a crease and you drop with no remorse on his lips. His face is smothered somewhere between his eyes. The only thing visible is his damp hair.
Unfortunately for you, he enjoys the thrill of not being able to breathe.
You’re less than two minutes into absolutely grinding on his tongue, chasing the vibrations of his grunts and groans by tugging on his hair. Your other hand is covering your mouth.
Thankfully, because there’s a quick knock, and Osamu’s voice passes through the door. “Pizza’s here. You okay in there?”
You nod as if he can see you. You then realize he cannot.
Shakily, you call out “Yes.” The only way to not moan while Suna slides the muscle between your lips to taste all of your slick is by biting your lip. His fingers grip the fat of your thighs.
“Okay.” In the background there’s another voice, presumably your other brother. Finally, they become faint until you hear the stairs, and you allow yourself a little freedom.
“Rin,” you look down fully expecting to meet his eyes, but you can’t see him past your hair.
“Hmphh?”
“I’m close— can I?” On cue, he pushes in as far as his tongue can go inside your hole. He nods yes, simultaneously flattening it to lick all of you in one stripe before deliberately sucking your clit.
To muffle your sounds, your hand comes to cover your mouth once again and you’re somehow managing to prepare for your eyes squeezing shut at the same time as your muscles tensing. Suna can feel you dripping, literally this time.
this was kinda rushed
©️hxltic
#suna imagines#suna rintarō#hq suna#suna rintaro x reader#rintarou suna#suna haikyuu#haikyuu!!#haikyū!!#haikyuu headcanons#haikyuu hcs#haikyu x reader#haikyuu smut#god i want him so bad#tictalks#haikyuu suna#suna rintaro#suna x reader#suna smut#suna rintarou#suna x you#suna headcanons#hq smut
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CAN U WRITE SOME MATTHEO RIDDLE SMUT?! I GOT AN IDEA!! The (fem) reader obsessed with mattheos abs arms viens hands- anyways- they’re making out in her dorm and she starts dry humping him and eventually c0ckw@arming Mattheo for litteraly hours on end and her skirt covers them up but they’re hanging out with their friends the whole time-
~ Patience ~
[masterlist][Pt2]
Bf!Mattheo Riddle x Fem!reader
Thank you for the idea I’ve been wanting to do something like this so I hope you enjoy it🥰☺️
Warnings:Dom Sub Dynamics, Cockwarming,Orgasm Denial(?),Exhibitionism,Smut.
As soon as the bathroom door opened your eyes started roaming your boyfriend’s beautifully sculpted body as you unknowingly began chewing on your bottom lip, letting your eyes follow the drops of water trailing through the line between his abs.
“See something you like Pretty Girl?” Mattheo chuckled as he strutted out of the bathroom in only a towel. You lightly hummed at his words as your eyes traveled down his prominent veins on his wet biceps and forearms. Your eyes lingered on his large hand holding his towel together as he laughed at your obvious neediness.
“Something you want Princess?” Mattheo asked in a deep, teasing voice as he moved to where you sat cross legged on his bed.
“Yes Sir.” You almost immediately spoke, perking up at his closeness. In any other case you’d be embarrassed at your readiness to respond, but you were far too horny to care.
“Well, you’ll just have to be a good girl and be patient for me, our friends will be here any minute and I need to get dressed Baby,” Mattheo said in a voice laced in false pity before chuckling at your whine as he made his way to his dresser, dropping his towel and showing off his semi-hard dick for you to see. He took his time picking out his clothes as you watched him, squirming and clenching your thighs together. He dressed slowly before pulling you into a passionate kiss by your chin, shoving you to your back and caging you in his arms on his bed.
Mattheo had zero intention of giving you the release you were aching for as he let his fingers trail down your body, fingering the waistband of your skirt before moving back up to your neck, repeating his actions as you whined under him. Your lips moved in sync as his tongue explored your mouth, making you moan lightly and grind on his thigh desperately. He chuckled into your mouth as his door opened, pulling away and eyeing you as you huffed up at him.
“Hey Theo, did you bring it?” Mattheo asked, eyeing you with a smirk before leaving you shocked and frustrated on his bed as he stood to meet Theo and Blaise, walking to the small couch Mattheo had seated next to his bookshelf. You huffed as you sat up and eyed Mattheo who only smirked and sent you a wink before grabbing one of the joints Theo had brought.
“Patience Princess” Mattheo’s voice spoke in your head, making you jump slightly, drawing the attention of the other two boys.
“You okay y/n/n?” Blaise asked through a hit as he lit a joint for himself. You sighed and slightly jumped off the edge of Mattheo’s bed and made your way to his bathroom, feeling his eyes on you as you slammed the door behind you.
“Baby….I know you’re not seriously thinking about finishing alone….?” As you felt Mattheo’s mind searching through your own you pulled yourself up to sit on the counter of his sink, closing your eyes and focusing hard on filling your brain with images of you touching yourself.
It wasn’t even a full minute before Mattheo was rushing into the room and slamming the door behind him, you giggled at his frustration as he eyed you, still clothed and decent on the counter. However, instead of immediately throwing himself at you as you had expected, he roughly grabbed you by your wrist with a whispered growl of “Needy brat”, pulling you from the bathroom as you stumbled to keep up.
When you were dragged into his room you noticed now that Enzo and Draco had joined the others, filling the room with smoke and the smell of alcohol. Mattheo gently shoved you down onto his bed when you got to it, quickly following after you, hands immediately pulling you into his chest.
“Is this what you want? You want to be fucked in front of all our friends Princess?” He spoke in your thoughts, his lips ghosting over your neck, hands gripping your hips and rutting his hard dick against your behind. Your eyes widen as you noticed his hand falling to pull himself discreetly from his boxers and rest himself on the waistband of his grey sweats. Your mind raced with thoughts of him taking you with no care in the world as his mind invaded yours seeking consent.
“Don’t make a sound Baby, you’re gonna hold me while I think on your punishment for being such a needy little brat,” As his words filled your mind, he pushed himself fully inside of you, resting his arm over your waist and his head in your neck, pulling you close under the guise of innocent cuddling as your skirt hid his dick that was lost inside you to the hilt.
Mattheo groaned as you clenched around him, giving you a warning squeeze on your hip as he began conversation with Theo. You were growing more and more impatient as the conversation topic switched from quidditch to parties to holiday plans as you attempted to join in every once in a while, at Mattheo’s orders in your thoughts.
After the first hour you were already drenching the front of his sweats as he pulsed and twitched inside you at every little movement. He could admit, he was growing impatient as well, only he was much better at holding back than you ever were. He began teasing you in your mind as he allowed you to clench around him, ignoring the conversation with his friends as he watched you close your eyes in frustration at his words.
He chuckled at you, conveniently at the same moment Blaise made a joke that went unheard as Mattheo began filling your mind with dirty thoughts. Images of Mattheo pushing you to your stomach and pounding into you had you almost moaning as he warned you of the consequences of making any noise.
“Your pretty sounds are just for me Baby,” He’d speak through the images of the various positions he’d take you in after your friends decide to leave for their own manors.
After the second hour Mattheo began slowly, so slowly it was barley noticeable to even you at first, circling his hips, just as much for his release as yours. Your lips threatened to release moans as his tip rubbed against your g-spot over and over at every one of his movements. He breathed heavily as he restrained himself from destroying you in front of your stoned and drunk group of friends.
Mattheo feared one or all of the boys would see or even hear his actions but it only stirred him on further. The thought of being caught had him aching inside you as he made a mental note to discuss his new discovery with you later on.
As the third hour approached Mattheo decided he’d had enough of his own game. Shocking you as he abruptly pulled out of you, hiding the evidence of your actions as he told your friends you were tired, practically forcing them out the door with no further explanation before leaping back onto the bed.
His hands were immediately pulling your clothes off your body as you tugged at his. He was back inside you before either of you were fully unclothed. You skirt was pushed up your bare torso as he nipped and licked at your chest and neck. You gripped his bare, sweaty shoulders as he pounded into you, finally speaking out loud as he praised your patience.
~~~~
#mattheo riddle x fem!reader#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheo x y/n#mattheo riddle smut#mattheo riddle#smut#x yn#yn#harry potter#harry potter smut#hp#theodore nott#harry potter oneshot#harry potter fandom#draco malfoy#blaise zabini#lorenzo berkshire#oneshot#hp fanfic
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Joel Dealing with his Preggo Wife #9: At the Beach
Can be read with others in series or alone
Summary: You're not too confident at the beach with your body, but Joel's got the best remedy
Warnings: Super fluff!! Some sexy time at the end, unprotected sex, car sex, failed sex, fingering, 1 spank, heavier descriptions of pregnant body
18+ ONLY
- - - -
You complain how hot it is, the grainy sand stuck on on your thighs, the hot sun blistering your sensitive skin, the onlookers you fear are gawking at your enormous size. The fact you have to wear a bikini now despite always having worn a full piece before the baby train docked. But it just wouldn't fit, and you had to buy a NEW (and even larger sized) two piece to accommodate your must larger figure.
All of it makes you want to barf and hide in a closet. At the very least wrapped up in a towel—but of course, one towel doesn't even cover over your mid section anymore either!
Not that he's complaining. Joel pulls his sunglasses down to the bridge of his nose to let all the light in and, with no shame, gets a glorious look at you as often as he can. You wearing a two piece with your accentuated body now so drastically changed because of him, just absolutely showcasing the evidence of your love making has him struggling to keep his cock down in his trousers. He wants to put his hands all over you and tell everyone yeah, this body? this belly? This woman? You see her? Mine.
You didn't want to come to the beach. Okay, you did, like, yesterday, when you were scratching his arm off and begging to go sun bathe and wear your new sandals, but clearly, Joel couldn't recognize when you changed your mind last minute in the car ride without actually verbally telling him. He was so busy humming his little 70s tunes on the radio, glancing smiles at you and putting his warm hand on your fat thigh. Completely unaware, despite your reassuring smiles, that you wanted him to turn around right now and go home. Why couldn't the man just read your mind? Why do you have to explain everything to him word for word?
So here you are, a million degrees under the baking sun, sand in your sandals with the whole world of beautiful people apparently on this beach too. You stand there awkwardly, rubbing your arms hoping to shrink down to an ant and scurry away.
Trying to get to your knees is difficult at best, uncomfortable and pathetic, before settling on your bum with that massive tummy in the way of everything. You spread your legs and, fuck, you look like you might as well be pushing this baby out right now in this bloated birthing position. Could they kick you off the beach for looking like this???
Joel doesn’t pay any attention at all. He gets right to being a boy and digging a big hole in the sand like a 14 year old, despite his cracking knees and shifting groans from all the movement he’s got to do.
At least someone here is having a good time.
He carefully scoops the sand with his thick palm, making a smooth, rounded cavern. He even brought a tape measure, which he uses around your tummy first, strangely, and you don't even question it.
Once the hemisphere is dug to his satisfaction, smoothed over with his calloused fingers, he sits back and waves to you.
You're picking little grains of sand off your moon-sized belly.
He coughs again, and you finally look up.
"Ta da!" He boasts proudly.
You throw your hands up defeatedly at his extremely unimpressive hole. "Okay?"
His lips draw tightly to a thin line, doubt crossing his face. “Wait, just—c’mere. Best part."
He grabs your hands and helps you to lie forward so that your belly has room to dip into the hole. And just like that, for the first time in months, you're lying on your front again.
It’s as if a massive ache in your back is suddenly relieved. "Oh my god! This feels amazing!" You cheer. The pressure your baby had been putting on your lower spine suddenly disappears, and all that weight is so perfectly supported by the carefully measured cradle he dug in the sand. It's been so long since you were in this position, you had dreams of the day you could again.
"Joel, you're—“
"Fuckin' amazin', I know darlin'."
He plants a special cooling pillow in front of you so you can rest your chin above the sand, no strain on your neck.
You sigh loudly, and extremely long, not even aware that it sounds like a pornographic moan.
"Behave, you," he tsks with a raised brow, his whispers tickling your ear.
"Mmmm.”
You wave him off, suddenly enjoying the warm heat of the sun on your bare back.
He lathers your exposed skin with gentle sun screen, massaging your shoulders, neck, sides. He takes special care to realllly rub your butt, 'so you don't burn.' Puts an umbrella over you too for good measure. With the reassuring feeling of Joels hands working out your muscles all over you, the crashing sound of waves in the distance and chirping seagulls, and feeling like you aren’t heavily pregnant for the first time in months, you quickly succumb to a nap.
-
Later when he's got food, double fisting some hot dogs, he sits you up and rubs the sand off your belly with a clean cloth. Joel scarfs the first one down, ketchup drooping down his wrist.
But you’re too distracted, and when you tell him its okay, he eats yours without a second thought. You laugh a little. Poor thing probably got baked under the sun too busy taking care of you.
He chews loudly, jaw working close with the amount of meat and mustard and bread bulging out. You lick your thumb and wipe away the droop of condiment spilling from his lips.
He playfully chases your hand with a bite, growling.
you shake your head. “You fucking weirdo.”
“Mmm. My pretty fuckin’ girl.”
His eyes rake over your body—skin radiant in the sun, so smooth and shiny from the oily sunscreen he had smoothed over you. Like something out of a dream. His dreams, to be exact. Not so appropriate dreams he may have already had after only the first week of dating you, and thinking about the day you might be exactly as you are—pregnant with a his ring on your finger.
Delirious with the sight of you, he leans in and starts kissing you, then groping and suckling alll down to your bloated belly.
"Joel, stop, people are gonna see!"
"Let them see, you're so fucking sexy right now.”
"STOP.” You grasp him a bit more firmly to pull his hungry mouth away from going any further down south. “We're not having sex right now. That's final. Now keep your bad boy parts in your pants.”
He pouts and grumbles, drawing away like a scolded child.
You watch as a group of kids play in the water and laugh, or two young girls collect more sea shells than their little hands can carry. Your hand absent-minded rubs over your belly, wondering what your baby is thinking right this moment. If she had thoughts. If she was listening and seeing through you, and feeling what you might be feeling right now.
Joel watches you. He can see that sense of distant longing in your eyes.
Remembers when you first started dating, mid 20s and so young, and the first thing you said was you weren't sure about kids. He kind of knew he wanted at least one, but the more he got to know you, the more he was willing to give that idea up if it meant he got to keep you for the rest of his life. It took five years after you got married before he found you trembling but bravely presenting him a positive test, and he had to fight himself to keep all his emotions at bay in case you didn’t want this. You were so quiet, so unreadable. He wasn’t sure if you wanted to talk about it or not.
Until you both went to your first ultrasound, and from that minute you saw the little blob on the screen, and the nurse said “meet mom and dad!” Your lives changed. The whole car ride home you were babbling excitedly about baby names, the color of the nursery, what your child might look like (you hoped she or he would look like Joel).
You’re quiet right now like you were that day. He follows your eyes to the scene of all the kids playing together, their parents watching over and encouraging the sandcastle building or warning not to go too far out into the water: a happy family.
"I want more,” you say quietly, not really even addressing Joel as your eyes are stuck forward.
He just chuckles and shakes his head. “Baby, we still are working on getting one. Gotta wait before we can have another."
"I want her to have a sibling,” you mumble, holding your belly with both hands delicately.
He bends down and kisses your hand resting atop your swell. “I’ll give you as many as you want.... so long as it doesn't exceed two.”
Your head snaps back. “Three.”
"If there's 2, then that's 4 of us, which is the perfect number to sit at any restaurant. 4 is right. Plus a normal car sits 4 people comfortably. Do you really want a third baby being subjected to a middle seat?"
"Mini van?"
"We ain't getting a mini van. Over my dead body.”
"Well we can't use the truck!”
"Ya can put a baby seat in the truck."
You giggle at the imagery. "You've thought about this a lot haven't you, Mr. Miller?”
He's going off about why 4 also is the perfect number in most rollercoaster carts, but you can't help but just look at him, smiling warmly to yourself that you get to call this man yours.
“—I love you."
He stops mid sentence. A little jumped, but never surprised by your words. He caresses your cheek lovingly, his soft lips finding yours. "I love you too," he mumbles just hushed enough for only you to hear.
Your foreheads touch, as if you wanted your minds to meld into one. You kiss him again, then again a little more firmly. And more. Again, more—more, again. Until you're making out with him a little too passionately, your hand drifting south to his caress his Daddy belly and his Daddy parts—
He hand grabs your wrist to stop you. “Honey,” he warns. There’s a glint in his eye that is just barely keeping his mature brain functioning. With your tits all swollen and hefty with milk, spilling out of that poor excuse of a bra and begging for attention, along with your ass spilling out of that g-string-looking triangle hiding your more than likely wet flower... He’s unsure if he can't keep his erection at bay if you keep acting like this while looking like this.
"I want you," you breathe, your lips crashing on his.
"I want you too,” he hums between your insatiable teeth biting along his tongue. “But..."
"But?"
"You said no sex at the beach."
"I know. I'm waiting for you to get off your lazy ass and take me in the truck."
-
Joel had never packed shit up quicker in his life. He’s bunched up bottles and towels and sunglasses and whatever junk he had brought all up in a towel with one arm and ran barefoot to the parking lot, his other hand dragging you as you wiggled excitedly behind him. He throws it all in the truckbed and unlatches the door for you, helping you up with a quick smack to your sandy asscheek. He gets in and rolls up the windows. Not bothering to check if anyone is around.
You pull him close and start shoving his shorts down.
Its hot and rushed and promising—until you quickly realize your baby does not want any truck-fucking business happening because there's no possible configuration the two of you can get in to have sex with the sheer size of your tummy in the way.
He can sense the tears of frustration welling in your eyes, immediately caressing you as he buckles you in and revs the truck to life.
“It’s okay, its okay, it's okay, we'll have car sex again after she's born, how's that? Just a beautiful girl you are. Too sexy like this. Need to do it on a comfortable bed, that’s all. Can't have ya all to myself whenever I want, huh?"
You nod, desperate to suck up all your tears. Quite frankly you know that you ugly cry, and Joel knows you ugly cry, and you don’t want to ugly cry. You remember that your pussy is wet and waiting to get home so he can spoil you properly.
He continues to adoring rub over your belly, a constant affection of his touch reminding you to stay level. With one hand gripping the wheel, eyes trained forward, he glides down over your naval and urges you to part your legs.
You slip back a bit, giving him the widened access he needs to dip his middle under your bikini bottoms and between your slick folds. You moan loudly, hips arching forward to get more of his finger rubbing along your swollen clit.
“Joooeeeeeel,” you whimper impatiently. He can’t dip any more than an inch of his finger in you due to the stretch of his arm over you belly. Instead, he swipes along your slit, gathering your wetness and smearing it on your nub.
"Ahhh, oh sweetheart, you’re just drippin' me." He retracts his hand and plunges his finger into his mouth, swirling his tongue over and over and sucking your juices clean off with a pop.
You eye his bulge stabbing through his trousers. "I wish I could suck you off right now." You whine, squeezing your achy breasts and hoping he can steal a glance at you.
"Mmm, those were good times, huh?"
You groan, frustrated. Turns out the baby was cock blocking you in numerous ways from doing things you enjoyed in your youth. Your “youth” feeling like it just a few months ago when driving BJs were your favorite way of nearly getting pulled over.
Eventually you do get home, and you throw the seatbelt over. This baby was NOT stealing truck-fucking from you. Not. Today.
Joel can’t stop your rush. You’re clambering over the dash, knee pressing into Joel’s bulge painfully and elbowing his chest trying to get into a position.
"Okay wait—just—OW! Hon—s-urgghh— HOLD ON.”
You maneuver him to sit at the center of the back seat, with your back facing him and ass hovering over his cock. He’s protectively holding your waist in your squatting position. You sit back slowly, moaning as he penetrates your slit. With both hands on either side of the front seats shoulders in front of you, you begin gently rocking and bouncing.
He holds your belly, guiding you up and down, back and forth on his dick
"Fuck. Fuck, I love you, Joel. I cant wait—nnmmm—to have your baby!"
He grumbles in agreement, watching the space where his length disppears into your sopping cunt and comes back wet and shiny from your arousal.
It feels fantastic after waiting so long, being so pent up and needy for each other since—like 20 minutes ago.
And There's about 18 more seconds of this before you're slowing down. Joel can feel it too: the awkward clench, slipping out of you every few seconds, creaking in the truck's seat, the wet scratchiness of the sand still wedged there, your hand on your back from the pain, unable to bounce on him with the weight of you, the overall struggle that’s paving way for very shitty, very uncomfortable, very unsatisfying sex. You stop altogether and sit in his lap with his cock impaling you, almost casually.
"I'm tired,” you sigh in defeat, out of breath.
Joel just nods behind you. He kisses your shoulder blade and helps you off him.
Baby: 1.
You: 0
“Bed is still open, if ya want it…” you mumble into his whiskered cheek before planting a soft kiss.
His excitement jolts him into a frenzied leap out of the truck. “Bathroom, then bed, and I expect to see your legs spread and naked.”
You giggle and the two of you part in different directions in the house.
Joel quickly uses the bathroom before tripping over his clothes while stripping, eager to finally make you cry about how good he’s going to pleasure you.
Only to find you nestled on the couch curled up with your hand perched under your cheek, drooling into the pillow. Even despite your sunkissed skin, the dryness of your lips from the salty ocean air, the sand you complained between your folds and wedged up your ass by your bikini didn't matter. As the afternoon warm sun bleeds from the drapes lulled you to a gentle rest, secure and safe in your own home.
Joel kneeled beside you, cupping your cheek soothingly.
"You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."
You stir slightly, smiling with a hazy half conscious state. "I know," you respond cheekily, before nuzzling into his hand again and falling back asleep.
Joel stays there for hours, one hand resting over your belly, just watching the woman he's fallen so hard for, wondering what in the world he's done to deserve such a blessing.
- - - -
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Where We Left Off
Pairing: Best Friend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: You're in love with your best friend who is determined to make the most of your vacation together.
Word Count: Over 1.2k
Warnings: Light angst, friends reconnecting, unrequited feelings (or so you think), slight feels (it's me), future fun, Bucky Barnes (yep, he's a warning)
A/N: New AU called Reconnect because why not? Meet Dreamboat and Butterfly. For @the-slumberparty 's June's Monthly Challenge : Bikini and Beach, and Smut Hub Summer Camp Bingo @sagechanoafterdark: Choose Your Vibes: Summer. Thank you @flordeamatista for the inspiration and pre-reading! ❤️ Any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
It was a couple of summers ago when you realized you were in love with Bucky Barnes. When you looked back on your friendship, you wondered how it took you so long to realize it. Like how his smile made your heart race whenever he looked your way. Or how you found a solid ground and safe space together, each of you able to confide in the other.
He made you feel safe.
"You're my best friend."
Nothing more.
You stared out the living room window with a sigh, the beach house blanketed by the heavy sound of rain. While it had been bright and sunny just minutes ago, the sky was now dark and misty. You shivered as you wrapped your towel tighter around your wet body, enchanted by the summer storm instead of going to your room to change. It figured you'd buy a new swimsuit for the trip and only get to wear it outside for a minute.
"So much for lounging on the beach."
You smiled softly as you glanced at Bucky beside you, who ran a hand through his long, soaked hair. He hadn't bothered to keep his towel after the two of you rushed back inside, clad in just his blue trunks that matched the shade of his eyes. You scolded yourself for letting your gaze roam along his sun kissed, muscular body.
You didn't have the right to look at him that way.
"Yeah. So much for that," you said, the towel doing little to keep you warm as the air conditioner kicked on. "Maybe our punishment for getting started without everyone?"
Steve, another one of Bucky's best friends, put together a weeklong trip for the gang. So far, you and Bucky were the only two at the beach house. Everyone else wasn't going to be there until the evening. That was why you went for an immediate swim once you picked your room. The storm would likely put the group behind even more and now you were stuck inside with Bucky.
Why had you agreed to show up early?
Why did you have to be alone with him?
Why do I have to love him?
"Maybe," he said with a stretch, drawing attention to his wide chest. "Since it doesn't look like it's slowing down at all, why don't we cuddle on the couch? Catch up a bit?"
"Cuddle?" you scoffed, the sound more bitter than you intended as you turned to face him. "Why would we do that?"
A flicker of hurt passed over his eyes before he blinked it away. "Well, for one, you're cold. I can practically hear your teeth chattering," he replied. He wasn't a fan of being cold either, but he always ran warm. "And two, cuddling never bothered you before."
Your stomach flip-flopped. Bucky was right. He was the only male friend you ever snuggled with. Whenever you had a bad day, he didn't hesitate to throw a heavy arm around you and pull you against his chest. On good days, he found an excuse to keep you plastered by his side. He used to do it so often that most people assumed you were dating.
Wishful thinking.
"I'm sorry," you said, giving him the nicest smile you could manage even though it hurt to do so. "Been awhile since it was just the two of us and even longer than that since we cuddled."
The day it clicked that you saw Bucky as more than a friend was the day he introduced you to Dolores. Everyone called her Dot. The beautiful redhead looked good on his arm and you wondered why it wasn't you in her place. But you put on a brave face and smiled, even as your heart shattered. Because Bucky's happiness meant more than your feelings.
It didn't stop you from crying alone in the darkness where no one else could see.
"That's my fault," he whispered, sliding his fingers into his hair again and tugging harshly on the strands. You noticed he did that when he was upset. "And I'm sorry."
"Friendship goes both ways," you pointed out.
"You never faded out of my life when you dated anyone."
They weren't you, Bucky.
"I guess she was different," you smiled sadly.
The two of you still hung out and messaged each other while he dated Dot, but it was always as a group and the daily messages dwindled to chats here and there. You had the feeling that Dot didn't like you very much. In a way, you didn't fault her for that. Maybe she saw through you and knew you wanted Bucky.
Yet he was the one who broke up with her.
"You're allowed to be mad at me," he said as he took your hand and crossed the room to the couch. "I'd be mad at me."
"Right now, I'm just cold," you said, not wanting to dwell on the past. What good would it do?
He nodded slowly, almost like he was disappointed in your response. "Okay."
You shrieked when he pulled the towel away. It wasn't like he hadn't seen you minutes before in your bikini and you swore his gaze lingered on you long enough to consider it staring, but what was he doing? "What the hell?" you asked, but made no move to cover yourself.
Maybe I want him to see that I'm desirable.
Bucky let out a breath as he looked at you, your shivering having nothing to do with the cold. "You said you were cold, so let me warm you up," he urged, grabbing a blanket from the back of the couch before he took a seat. "Please?"
Silence fell over you as you sat down beside him. He wasted no time putting the blanket over you and wrapping his arms around your shaking frame. You breathed in his familiar scent and found yourself fighting off tears, a bittersweet swirl of longing and comfort settling in your chest.
Because he embraced you as if you meant something to him.
"I missed you," he whispered, running a hand along your back.
Your heart clenched, focusing on the rain falling outside in a melancholy rhythm. "I missed you, too."
"But we have each other again."
"I wish that were true," you whispered.
Why did I say that?
His hand stilled, but you were too afraid to look at him. "What do you mean?" he asked.
Panic bubbled in your chest. You couldn't just blurt out your feelings like this. "I just mean you went from a constant to a fleeting moment in my life," you said, which was the truth. "I don't want things to fizzle after we leave."
Bucky used to be the brightest star in your sky. Then he became the shooting star you missed making a wish upon. But you would forever watch the sky if only to get a glimpse of his bright light.
"I'll make it up to you. I have this whole week to start," he promised, rubbing his chin along the top of your head. "I don't care what Steve has planned. I'm all yours."
You squeezed your eyes shut because you knew you'd cry if you didn't. He wasn't yours. Not really.
"I'm yours, too, Bucky."
I always will be.
Surely Bucky will sweep us off our feet, right? Love and thanks! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
#navybrat writes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x female!reader#bucky barnes#best friend!bucky barnes#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes au#reconnect au#dreamboat and butterfly#navy and roo's sleepover#SmutHubSummerCamp23#sebastian stan x reader#sebastian stan x female reader#sebastian stan x female!reader#sebastian stan x you#sebastian stan
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Period comfort with hazbin characters
ft alastor, lucifer, fallen!adam and husk
gn afab reader! no y/n used, and you arent in a relationship with alastor, just besties <3 all the other boys have a crush on you.
there will be more parts, may not be period comfort tho, just more hazbin/helluva characters comforting the reader while theyre sick
cw: mentions of period sex, adam is chubby, slight ooc
mdni please<3
Alastor
The smell of blood draws alastor to your room, hes a little worried that you're hurt, but its nothing he cant fix. As he enters your room, and sees you curled up in the fetal position he goes and sits next to you
"Darling, whats the matter? It's a wonderful day and you're spending it in bed! I believe Charlie is baking cookies! You-"
"go away alastor. i'm on my period."
"Well why didnt you say so!"
Alastor disappears into his shadow, and returns a few minutes later with a hot water bottle, a bottle of cold water, some pain meds and dark chocolate. He throws the items on your bed and smiles at you expectingly. You shoot him back a smile of appreciation. Even tho alastor and you had your moments, he's still a good friend when he needs to be.
Lucifer
Lucifer has a crush on you, and its no secret either. Every day he sits next to you during breakfast, he always makes sure you eat enough. He always does Charlie's silly little trust exercises with you, just being in your vicinity makes him happy. When you dont come down for breakfast, he gets worried, he made your favourite for you- pancakes! He decides to take some to your room. When he enters, and sees you curled up on the bed, he sits the tray of pancakes on your bedside table and sits next to you
"Hey, you didnt come down for breakfast, are you okay??"
you shake your head no, and he seems really concerned. He hates seeing you in pain, its horrible. Suddenly he remembers something- lillith acted like this when she first came to hell, periods. In the garden of eden, lilliths periods didnt hurt her, but as soon as she came to hell, it felt like her uterus was stabbing her, luckily luci fixed it
"Can i help?"
You stare up at him, eyes slightly watering from the pain and nod your head, anything to get rid of this. Luci carefully peels back your blanket and rests his hands on your groin, you shiver at the feeling of his warm hands, its nice. Theres a bright glow of golden light, and suddenly, the pains gone, the period pain at least, you still have a headache, and you're still pretty exhausted. You pull luci into a hug, he hugs back, giving you a kiss on the head
"Want me to run you a bath, sweetheart?"
"Yes please"
Lucifer hops up and heads into your ensuite, he starts a bath, making sure to get some really nice smelling soap and bath salts. He puts some rose petals in the tub to make it look pretty, and a couple of rubber duckies. Lucifer cares so much, hes so sweet.
Adam
Adam doesn't really understand the whole 'periods thing'. They didn't have them in heaven, so he doesn't really know what to do when you wake up grabbing your stomach. He pulls out his phone and decides to have a look online to see if there's anything he can get that will help, theres products from the vee's, but he doesnt trust those fuckers. He scrolls across an article that says orgasms can help with period cramps. When adam first shoots the idea at you, you're hesitant, period sex isnt something you've done before, and it seems a little scary, but you let him. He puts a towel under the both of you, and he makes sure that you 100% wanna do this before he gets started. When you guys have done, your pains are pretty much gone. he pulls you on top of him and you just lay there for awhile, enjoying the warmth from adams soft belly <3
Husk
Husk isn't too educated with this stuff either, but he knows how to take care of someone when they're sick. He doesn't realise you have your period at first, he just thinks it's a stomach bug. He gets you some chicken noodle soup and a few painkillers, when you explain to him that you have no appetite because of how bad the pain is, it suddenly clicks in his brain what's happening. He gives you a small kiss on the forehead, then walks out. He goes to charlie asking for help, she gathers together a basket full of snacks, pads, tampons, a menstrual cup, period underwear, hot water bottle with a cute cat cover and some noise cancelling headphones, in case things get overwhelming. Husk brings it back to you and lets you snuggle into him, something he doesn't allow very often. You spend the next few days cuddled up in bed, playing with husks ears watching movies. He helps you when you need to shower, and also keeps your hot water bottle hot. he just really enjoys taking care of you, not that he'd admit that
#husk x reader#adam x reader#alastor x reader#lucifer x reader#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel#hazbin alastor#hazbin lucifer#hazbin husk#period comfort#aromantic alastor#helluva boss x reader#hellaverse#alastor altruist#alastor#lucifer#adam#husker#hazbinhotel#hazbin#radio demon#alastor the radio demon#the radio demon#happy hotel#vivziepop#blitzo#helluva boss#hazbin angel dust#angeldust#gender neutral reader
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hi! i love your small “teenagers” series sm! could you write hobie and reader babysitting mayday in miguel’s lab (or office?), and he comes back to it seeing it all in a mess with like crayon scribbles, stickers, and glitter all over the place? no worries if you can’t! thank you for your stories 🙏
OMG I LOVE THIS part 5-
𝐓𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬... 𝐏𝐭 𝟔
“Can we use your lab for like… a few hours? Peter left us to watch Mayday, and we don’t have anywhere else safe to go where she can’t leave. She already made us chase her around the whole building.” You asked your dad, out of breath as Hobie held mayday.
He sighed “As long as it’s not messed up when I get back..” he eyed Hobie, and you both left to his lab.
You put her down on a table, and pulled out a snack.
When you looked back, she wasn’t there.
“Where’d she go?” Hobie said.
“W- she was just there!”
“I looked away for a second, I swear.” He put his hands up in defense as he looked around the room.
She was upside down underneath a table, head almost to the floor.
“Mayday! You can’t run off like that.” You picked her up, she giggled and started to climb on you.
“Or just ignore me.” You sighed, and hobie looked around in the bag now. You placed her on the table again.
“Here.” He handed you apple sauce, which you took, and started to feed to her.
He smiled at it.
“You’d be a good mom.” He said, randomly.
“Really? I feel like I’d be shitty.”
“You wouldn’t.”
You smiled at him, and when you got distracted mayday grabbed the apple sauce and spilt it all over the floor and table. She giggled as she started to play with it.
“Mayday!” You groaned, picking her up again.
“I got ‘er.” He said, grabbing her from you.
You sighed “Thank you.” And looked around for something to clean it with. Miguel kept his lab clean, so there had to be something. You looked through the drawers, and grabbed some paper towels. The second you look back, Mayday is throwing glitter everywhere.
“Hobie! Where the hell did you get glitter from?”
“She got it from the bag.” He shrugged, smirking as she continued to make a mess.
“The kids a real anarchist. Making a mess of the place.” He folded his arms and nodded.
You sighed, cleaning up the apple sauce and then trying to clean up as much as the glitter you could.
Then she pulled out more from the bag, crayons and stickers. Seemed innocent. Until she started to crawl around and drew on the walls.
“Mayday!” You groaned, running after her, but the second you did she started to climb the walls.
“Mayday Parker, get down here this instant!”
She put the crayons in her mouth, drawing with them in her mouth and hand, and sticking stickers on the ceiling and walls.
“Hobie! Are you gonna help?”
He sighed, picking up mayday. She flailed her arms around and stuck a sticker on him.
“My dads gonna kill me.” You said, looking around the lab that was filled with crayon markings, pink glitter all on the floor, and stickers on the walls.
“I won’t let him.” Hobie put his arm around you.
“Chaos child.” You looked at mayday, which she laughed at.
#hobie brown fluff#hobie brown x reader#hobie brown#spider man across the spider verse x reader#miguel o’hara#teenagers hobie brown series
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7.5: the perilla leaf 》 series m.list
note: nah cos why did u guys blow up 6.5??? jus cos it was nasty sex ????? WAS THE MIRROR SEX CH NOT AS HOT ???? 😭 jus kidding … hello to my new readers !! hello to my day 1s !!! i’m so glad u’re here <3 enj this ch as we are near the end … i know i took a hot minute... but now u guys will know WHY. pls lmk ur thots ,, i am in desperate need of validation cos i’m losing motivation 😀✊🏽 mwah ,, wuv u all ,, until next time !
warnings: this ch is lengthy !!! i'm too lazy to do a word count... anyways,, miscommunication (jk & mina, mina & oc, eunwoo & jk & oc, etc etc), rejection (take a wild guess 😛) and jealousy ((take an even wilder guess)) angst & implied smut (((pls do not be like jk,, he’s such a douche in this ch))) oc has mean girl vibes... etc etc👨🍳✨
taglist request: send a request with the title of this fic “c2u” // DO NOT comment here or on the masterlist . it gets confusing and i prefer answering and tagging through asks !!!
🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @taetaecatboy @pb-n-juju @miss-rainy-days @firesighgirl @whoa-jo @vantxx95 @pamzn @kakixaku @casspirit0705 @tae165 @defzcl @sopebubbles @leefics @ggukkieland @bebebutbetter @yoongimentita7 @boraength @era-genius @4ksj @vampcharxter @miss-jupiter @floweryjeons @taegijns @jeonqkooks-main @ellesalazar
fic taglist: @mint--yoongs @bloopkook @suciedad-divina @xelenavazquezx @kyjjk @parkinglot-nights @skzthinker @thisisaburnphone @rrjkive @hyuneyeon @chemicalclub @bbtsficrecs @ronyiboniyy @italiekim
//
When Yuna meets you, she's wearing Taehyung’s jersey.
You keep your mouth shut about it, hoping if you don’t bring up her situationship with Taehyung—she won’t bring up yours with Jungkook.
It’s simple girl logic. Something you’ve always loved about Yuna is that even though she is the nosiest human to ever exist—she knows her boundaries when it comes to you. With that, you’ve always felt safe with her. Eventually, you’ll tell her everything. Besides, what fun is being in a situationship when your loving friends come in with their thoughts and concerns? Evidentially bringing the truth to light and ending your delusion?
No fun!
Speaking of delusion…
“Oh my god,” Yuna gasps as she makes an effort to block your view. You huff at her, annoyed at how childish she’s acting. She waves her arms frantically, trying to keep you focused on the other side of the bleachers. Isn’t that ridiculous? For someone trying to get you to avoid looking a specific way, she draws all the attention to it. “Babes, whatever you do, don’t look—___, seriously? Stop! Please, you’re just going to—”
In disbelief, you grumble; “why is Mina wearing Jungkook’s jersey?”
Your own words make you want to throw up.
What the actual fuck.
She’s standing a few feet away from the soccer team with her friends. The towels in their hands—at this point should be pompoms—make them look so… Entitled? You don’t even know half of the girls she’s standing with. Yet, you hate them.
You despise them and the way they look so perfect.
They’re all wearing a team member’s jersey… Mina just so happens to have Jungkook’s on. It makes you wonder… Did he give that to her? Did they meet after you two fucked? Did he really mean it when he said, “quickie?”
Did he mean anything he said to you at the party? Not that he was making promises... It's just irritating because you almost believed him.
Believed in being his girl.
... Whatever that means.
His words were sweet but the way he looked into your eyes was his entire tell. They were sweeter. He had a softness in his gaze. It looked genuine—you swear it was.
“I think the jerseys are from last season… Look!” Yuna tugs the fabric of the jersey sleeve to you and begins to point details out. “See? This is Taehyung’s from this season. It’s made of thinner material and even the colour is lighter! Mina’s is—”
You turn the other cheek, not bothering to entertain the rest of this conversation. What was the use? You’d only hurt yourself with all the overthinking and cause drama between you and Jungkook. Besides, you have faith in him. He knows how you feel when it comes to Mina… He wouldn’t push it, right? And if anything… You can’t seem to think of a reason why he would be upset with you right now.
The quickie was just a quickie.
Not much to say. He was normal—until he left. Jungkook had left without saying goodbye and it made you feel a little weird. Not even a text? Not even a heads-up? Not even a kiss? Odd of him.
Again, it’s nothing worth starting a fight.
… And besides, when were you guys the type to fight over things like this? You two aren’t dating. Communication—in this sense—is it really necessary?
“Shit,” Yuna nudges you. “She’s waving at us. Wave back so she doesn’t know we’re talking shit—”
“We’re not talking shit,” you hiss. “Who even cares?”
“Okay, jealous era!” Her words earn an eye roll from you. Quickly, you give in and flash Mina a faint smile and wave your hands at her. She giggles and returns to chatting with her friends.
“Remind me again… Why did I come?” you groan as you take a seat. Ignoring you, Yuna sits down beside you and takes her phone out. You peek over and see that she’s texting Taehyung good luck. “Do you go to all their games?”
“I try to.”
“Why?”
“What do you mean why?” Yuna snorts. “Taehyung likes the support.”
You bite your tongue.
Should you even ask? It’s probably safer to assume, right?
“Do you like Taehyung?” Your words come out of your mouth before you can stop yourself. Afraid of her reaction, you brace yourself for her defensiveness. Instead, her lips curve into a smirk.
“Do you like Jungkook?”
Stupid question.
Just when Yuna thinks you’re about to react to her question, the crowd begins to cheer. You two turn your attention to the field where your Uni’s team and the opposing team all come out and shake each other’s hands. Then, they run a small lap around the bleachers and briefly greet everyone.
You watch Jungkook in silence. You don’t cheer his name or even wave. It doesn’t matter though. He sees you.
When he does, he playfully squints his eyes and tilts his chin up. With both of his hands, he makes the OK hand gesture and brings the circle parts to his eyes. Then, he flips one.
69.
Your eyes widen. As you throw your head back to laugh, out of instinct, you give him the middle finger. He chuckles and returns your gesture by blowing you a kiss.
Mina watches as he blows his kiss towards you.
Her cheers go quiet. For a split second, you two make eye contact. She smiles at you shyly. You gulp and turn your attention back to the field. Shortly, the game begins. As the crowd cheers, she finds her mood again. Meanwhile, your attention goes back and forth to Mina, cheering on the sidelines, and Jungkook, playing like losing isn’t an option.
For some reason, you feel a little bad. She’s so supportive and cute (you hate to admit it)… And he’s… Well, why does it matter what he is? All you know is that he isn’t hers.
Yet, he isn’t yours either.
Jungkook scores the final goal.
Of course, he does.
As the crowd goes wild, you can’t help but join in. His teammates run to him, engulfing him like the ace he is. Jungkook pokes his head out and looks at the crowd. When his eyes land on you, you offer him and smile and a thumbs up. He sticks his tongue out at you before he returns to his victorious team.
Shortly after, Yuna guides you down to the field the minute your area clears. As she does this, you can’t help but feel a little nervous. What were you going to say to him? Even if you had already seen and spent time with him today, right now feels a lot different.
The way to the field isn’t that long of a walk. Suddenly, you’re standing across from him. He’s saying his last few goodbyes to his teammates and hanging back with Taehyung. Yuna sprints to Taehyung, happily congratulating him and teasing his soccer moves. You watch in awe as the two bond and laugh together. Walking to Jungkook, you keep your head high.
He would be happy you showed up, right? You didn’t text him that you were coming… But this is a good surprise! At least, you hope it is. He mentioned not telling you about the game because he didn’t feel like begging you to come. Well, here you are. No begging and no sour attitude. You’re here for him.
It’s all shits and giggles until Mina beats you to him.
He’s only a few steps away from you, but in an instant—he feels so far away. You pause, wondering if you should continue to walk to him. It doesn’t matter if he was watching or waiting for you to come to him; you can leave right now. You could turn around and just wait by the bleachers. Or… You could just go home.
Perhaps there’s a look in your eye that gives your thoughts away or maybe, your friends just know you too well.
Yuna catches you backing away. She glares at you and side-eyes the direction towards Jungkook. In response, you shake your head with a polite smile—a smile that is trying to mask the fact that you kind of want to rip Mina’s cute head off.
Polite.
Just as you’re about to turn away, you feel someone grab onto your forearm. Looking up, you realize it’s Eunwoo.
“When we were dating, I almost always begged you to come to these games,” Eunwoo complains, grinning ear to ear. “Funny seeing you here.”
Eunwoo isn’t on the team.
He doesn’t even play soccer, really. Basketball is more of his thing. In all fairness, he loves sports and a lot of his friends are on the soccer team. When you two were dating, you were almost never together on Friday nights because of these stupid games. He’d beg for you to come with him and you’d reject and promise him your Saturday night.
“You aren’t even on the team,” you laugh, earning an embarrassed grin from him. “What’s the point of going to a game if your boyfriend isn’t on the team?”
He tilts his head. Suddenly, your words sink in. Did you really just say that?
“I came with Yuna!” you attempt to save yourself. “She always comes to these things… For Taehyung or something.. I—I just thought I’d c-check it out.”
Eunwoo gives you a funny look.
You aren’t sure if he bought your excuse but you’ll pretend like he did just to salvage any dignity you have left. Everything feels so embarrassing right now. Nothing is going your way and you just feel so out of place.
Is it overstimulation?
You came all this way to see one person—why are there so many other people?
“Are you here to see Jungkook?” Eunwoo asks bluntly. “You know… Since he’s on the team.”
Eyes widened, you shake your head profusely. “Ew! W-what? No! Who said that? I’m here because my friends are on the team and—”
“You’re a bad liar,” he interrupts you. “Always have been. You should stick with being honest.”
You huff at him. Out of everyone here, he’s probably your safest option when it comes to admitting the truth. In a way—in your way—you give in.
“He’s talking to Mina.”
“Oh,” Eunwoo turns his head, seeing for himself what all your fuss is about. When he takes it all in, he turns back to you with a shrug. “She’s cute.”
“She is cute… You should date her.”
Eunwoo rolls his eyes before engulfing you in a bear hug. He ruffles your hair, knowing you hate it when he does this. You groan and shove him away from you. As you compose yourself, he sighs.
“Yah, ___,” Eunwoo lifts his finger and points at you. With a serious tone, he warns you: “Don’t be so obvious with your jealousy. It hurts my feelings that you never acted this jealous when it came to me.”
You smile at him sweetly. “That’s because you’re a well-trained dog.”
“Ouch!” Eunwoo laughs, pretending you hurt his heart. “Yes, it’s true. What can I say? Any day being your bitch is a good day to be a dog… That’s why I’m still begging for you back even though I broke up with you.”
With a whiney tone, you say, “oh, shut up.”
“Still a no to the whole getting-back-together-with-me thing?” he winks, sightly kidding and slightly not. You cross your arms and shake your head at him. He attempts one last time. “Awh, come on! We can even fake date just to get a reaction out of Jungkook… I have no problem betraying friendship for love.”
“Oh my god, shut up!”
This time, you roll your eyes at him and tell him he’s being ridiculous. You remind him that his little drunken confession at the party was close to meaningless. He knew from the very start that you’re the type to move on when things end. Good or bad, you never look back. You’ve lived your life this way for so long—you can’t recall whether it brought you more luck or pain.
Eunwoo doesn’t care for your little speech. Instead, he laughs and continues to push your buttons.
“Wow, you must love Jungkook at this point. You know, you can just say that, right? You loveeee—“
You lunge yourself to him, attempting to playfully put him in a chokehold. He’s a lot taller than you so you struggle. Honesty, it’s cute and he can’t resist you. Eunwoo laughs and bends his knees, pretending to struggle as you seek revenge. He gives in, letting you have your way.
Meanwhile, Jungkook can’t concentrate on his conversation with Mina.
The big smile on his face faded as he watched you turn away when you were only a few steps away from him. How could you do such a thing? You walking towards him made him so happy. It was a sight he had been daydreaming of for the past few days. Though he saw you just hours before, he didn’t expect to see you at the game.
He thought you didn’t care.
Yet, there you were.
Shit, how does he even begin to explain how it felt to see you there? How annoying it was when you threw your head back to laugh, and his heart raced like never before? He was obsessed with you. Every little thing you do—he was your number one fan.
Except for moments like these.
Where you hesitate as you walk towards him. Where you get distracted and forget about him just because your ex showed up.
Where you give up.
“... And so, I guess… What I’m trying to ask is if you’d want to grab dinner with me and my friends? And then maybe we could do something after that�� Alone? Like just the two of us?” Mina’s voice cuts in, interrupting Jungkook’s thoughts of you. “We could watch a movie at my place? My roommate went home for the weekend so we’d have the place to ourselves.”
He stares blankly, trying his best to process everything Mina is blabbing about.
“Ohh… Thanks for the offer! You know the team and I usually celebrate with dinner together, right? ” Jungkook says it happily as if he isn’t rejecting her. “Next time?”
Idiot, Jungkook thinks to himself.
No next time. No this time. No nothing.
Why does he do this? Why does he always push things back for Mina when he doesn’t even want to reschedule? He doesn’t want to reject her… But he does.
Within seconds, the disappointment in Mina’s eyes fades when she comes up with a solution. Her eyes light up, believing in the compromise she’s about to pitch. “Then maybe I could join you guys? Taehyung and Yuna already know me and—”
“But it’s a team thing.”
Mina’s eyebrows furrow. Slightly offended, she pushes the conversation. “Oh… But Eunwoo goes. Yuna does too. She isn’t on the team—she’s just dating Taehyung.”
“No, she isn’t,” Jungkook laughs, finding the assumption cute. “At least, not yet.”
It’s not that funny, though. Mina doesn’t laugh and the silence between the two is heavy. Her facial expression drops, indicating her mood shifts to something less enthusiastic.
Annoyance?
Desperation?
Hurt.
“___ isn’t on the team. She isn’t dating you… But she’ll be there, right?” Mina chokes her words out as if she’s accepting her defeat. Saying this is a wildcard, but she plays it anyway. “Or what I mean to say is that she’s not dating you… Not yet. Haha.”
Jungkook opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. It’s dry and it’s… Nothing. No words, no thoughts.
He can’t think of a defense and he isn’t even really sure what he’s supposed to say. In his lifetime, he has gotten more than a handful of confessions… But for some reason, this one feels painful.
Pitiful.
“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Jungkook breathes. He scratches the back of his neck and looks at Mina shyly. “I really appreciate the support—I really do. It’s just… I never wanted yours.”
Mina stares at him blankly.
“Okay, I get that… But… This is what you do when you like someone. You do thoughtful things they never ask for. You sit through their practices even if it’s pouring rain or hot as fuck. You wash your towels with their favourite laundry detergent because they mentioned they're sensitive to strong scents—no, actually… I think you drive them home and ignore the other girl who sits with his friends and waits for him… Right? You blow her kisses from across the field instead of the girl that helped set up for the game.”
Jungkook’s heart drops.
“Mina—”
“I waited for you and you never came. You didn’t even text me. Do you know how that feels? To wait for someone and they don’t even—god, I like you so much I made myself look sooo stupid.” Mina groans in frustration. She puts her hands to her face, taking a breath in before continuing to get things off her chest.
“I should’ve left. Instead, I stayed and checked my phone every two minutes in case you texted. Then, I thought, okay… At least I can try to bond with your friends. But you know what? All they could talk about was you and ___. I sat there, listening and nodding like an idiot.”
Fuck.
Jungkook wants to sympathize with her, but can’t find the words or the strength to reach out. As he hesitates, Mina gathers her final thoughts and makes her last few moves. Abruptly, she shoves the towel in her hands to Jungkook’s chest.
“She didn’t even know you joined the team again after quitting. She has never gone to a game until today. She doesn’t even chant your name or cheer when you score a goal. She’s over there, flirting with her ex-boyfriend while you’re here rejecting me.” Mina fumes. “Is that who you’re going to pick over me? If so, fine. Nice choice, Jungkook. I wish you the best. Thanks for wasting my time.”
“You chose to be here. Look at yourself. Why are you even wearing that?” Jungkook points at the jersey she has on. Mina tightens her lips, suddenly feeling ridiculous. She pushes past him but pauses when Jungkook mumbles the words, “You led yourself on.”
Sharply, Mina raises her voice. “She doesn’t even want you.”
Ouch.
Mina’s words hit Jungkook right in the heart. Right in the spot where his insecurities and overthinking take place—the words strike him.
They hurt him.
They kill him.
“Don’t speak for her,” he warns, gaze lowered and stern. “She may not have cheered as loud as you during the game, but who fucking cares when she was chanting my name the other night… Or was it before the game today? I can’t remember. Fucked around too much to remember.”
Mina darts Jungkook a glare. “You’re an insensitive asshole. Do you know that?”
Jungkook huffs, beginning to feel frustrated. “Your feelings are yours, my feelings are mine. So, you don’t get to say shit about ___ to me—not about the way she treats me or her choices. I’m a grown man, Mina. I can figure it out when I need to pull out and how much shit I can take.”
“Mind giving me a few lessons, then?” she asks, eyes beginning to tear up. “I think I put up with yours for a minute too long.”
Everything becomes difficult in that exact second. There’s so much empathy Jungkook wants to express, but can not. He should not. He needs to pull away now or else he would be doing exactly what she’s accusing him of doing—leading her on.
“I’m sorry, Mina,” Jungkook apologizes softly, truly feeling stuck. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”
Mina sighs, eyes watery from the tears that threaten to fall. “You’re a grown man, Jungkook. You can figure it out when you need to pull out and how much shit you can take.”
Jungkook lowers his head, feeling bad for his harsh words. A part of him hates how this interaction went down. He could’ve been kinder. He should’ve been kinder. At the same time, it feels like this is all worth it. There’s no better way to end things than just to cut everything off.
Still, he attempts one last time.
“Mina,” Jungkook raises his face and looks at her in the eyes. “Look, I was as honest as I could be. I didn’t know I would like her so much. I didn’t know I’d feel this way about her at all… It just happened. I don’t mean to be an asshole. I didn’t mean to lead you on. I’m so sorry. With my whole heart, I am so fucking sorry."
Mina gulps, a little taken aback by his words. There’s a relief in her heart when Jungkook expresses his feelings to her. At least, there was clarity.
At least, he was honest.
At least, it ends like this.
She balls her fists and raises them. Waving them in the air, slowly and cutely, she smiles at Jungkook one last time.
Softly, she cheers, “go, Jungkook. Go.”
In the past, the friendgroup seating arrangement was a no-brainer. The order always went: other friends, you, Yuna, Taehyung, and then Jungkook. This was the blueprint.
Tonight, it’s different.
It earns a few confused looks, but nothing major. No one thinks twice about it. Maybe that’s because they didn’t catch the small moment in between—the one where Jungkook tugged on the hem of your crewneck and you complied. Taking a seat beside him, he keeps his hands near yours.
Though the restaurant is packed and busy, sitting beside Jungkook feels slow.
Was this even possible? For time to feel like it slows down when you’re beside him? It’s like every gesture he makes, every word that comes out of his mouth, and every stolen glance at you feels mindlessly slow. Yet, your heart races beside him. Even then, you can’t deny how gentle he is.
How every fingertip brush he makes is intentional. How he eventually hooks his pinky onto yours. How he inches closer and closer to you. Each time, you look away and pretend you don’t notice it. You do. You really do.
It feels strange.
Back at the field, it felt like he didn’t pay attention to you. Was it because of whatever he and Mina had discussed moments before? He didn’t talk about it when he joined you and Eunwoo. Instead, he kindly greeted you two and excused himself to quickly shower at the locker room before heading out to dinner. You and Eunwoo agreed to wait for him.
So, you can’t put your finger on it.
He was acting strange, but it wasn’t like anyone else was saying anything about it. A part of you wonders if it’s all in your head. Even though he had acknowledged your presence and excused himself politely—it felt like he was distant.
It hurt your feelings.
Why is he acting so weird? The possibilities you make in your head feel limited. The entire way here, you kept replaying moments between you two recently. What could have gone wrong? What could you have done wrong? What about him changed his mind about you? These thoughts flooded your mind so much that you didn’t even realize that he tugged on your crewneck for you to sit down beside him.
Now, here you are.
Mind racing with anxious thoughts, sitting beside the man who is the cause.
Your mind is telling you one thing, but his actions are proving otherwise. You don’t know which to believe and it makes you unsure of what to do. Everything is muffled and you can barely make out the small talk happening around you. The only thing clearer than your confused feelings are Jungkook’s gentle touches.
… That is until Yuna and Eunwoo begin to argue.
“Don’t you usually sit beside her?”
Yuna dismisses him. “Who cares?”
“I do,” Eunwoo protests. “If anyone is going to steal your seat, it’s going to be me!”
“No! You can’t. You can sit beside Taehyung—”
Eunwoo crosses his arms at her. “I thought you liked me. Am I no longer your favourite?”
His words trigger Yuna’s shoulders to drop. She bites her tongue and side eyes Jungkook. Jungkook catches her look and simply clears his throat. Then, he nudges you.
“Let Yuna sit beside you.” Jungkook’s tone is serious yet casual. You tilt your head at him and give him a weird look.
“Why does it matter?” you press. In all honesty, you aren't sure of what answer to expect. You're just poking the bear just because you can.
“I’m sitting beside you,” Jungkook points out. “It only makes sense that Yuna sits on your other side. Your favourite people in the world, you know?”
Unfazed, you shake your head. “Be honest… Do you not want Eunwoo to sit beside me?”
“I’m sitting beside you. Focus on that.”
You huff. “It’s yes or no, Jungkook.”
“Or.”
He answers without a lighthearted tone. Without a smile. Without the intention of miscommunicating what he wants. You can’t help but pity him. It’s obvious he’s a little sensitive right now and considering how he left things with you earlier—maybe you should be kinder. Maybe you should cater to him tonight.
But… At the same time…
Jungkook is being difficult, so maybe you should run the same play.
Okay, fine.
Since the ball is in your court, you shoot your shot.
“Eunwoo,” you say sweetly, “sit beside me. Yuna can sit beside Taehyung.”
Taehyung, who is sitting across from you, gulps. He instantly feels like he’s caught in the middle. Between trying to please every request Yuna throws at him to catering to his friends—when would this agony end? When could he finally have peace and not get poop anxiety from all this drama?
“But ___—”
You hush your best friend. Yuna pouts and glares at Eunwoo. Truth be told, she doesn’t care if she’s the one sitting beside you or not—she just didn’t want it to be Eunwoo. For Jungkook’s sake; she wanted it to be him. But by the looks of it, Jungkook is in a mood and you’re way too in your head tonight. Ultimately, she accepts her defeat and slumps beside Taehyung.
Taehyung tries to cheer her up by pointing at her favourite foods. It works. She instantly smiles and sits up with pep. He lets out a breath of relief and shares a look with Jungkook. A, that-was-a-close-one kind that makes Jungkook laugh. You watch as he laughs and can’t help but feel your annoyance begin to fade.
Okay… It’s confirmed. He’s in a weird mood tonight, but he’s still Jungkook.
He is still your Jungkook.
As Eunwoo settles beside you, he strikes up a conversation with the other teammates around him. On your left, you just hear Eunwoo talking your ear off. On your right, Jungkook goes on his phone and goes quiet. Only every so often would he chuckle or make a side comments.
It’s then that you realize you hate where you’re sitting.
So, you do the only logical thing you can.
Flirt with him.
Slowly, you place your hand on Jungkook’s thigh. You lean forward, pressing some weight on him. He puts his phone down and looks up at you. Cutely, you smile at him and take your hands off his lap.
Patting his head, you softly tell him; “Jungkook, you played well.”
You run your fingers through his damp hair and look into his eyes. You bat your eyelashes a few times, attempting to act cute. Deep inside, you hope this works. You hope you win him over.
You do.
Right then and there, all his plans go out the window. He will never get used to this. He loves hearing praises from your lips. In complete trance of how you say it, what you say, and why you say it—everything. He craves for you to be obsessed with him the way he is with you.
So, fuck it.
He could pause his sulky attitude for you.
Anything for you.
Jungkook’s lips curve into a half smile. “Don’t be cute.”
“Why?” you pout. “Is it working?”
“Are you trying to entice me?” He chuckles before leaning close to you and lowering his voice. “It’s working, I’ll admit that… But it’s kind of shameless of you to be trying so hard right now. Our friends are here, ___… Don’t start shit you can’t finish, pookie.”
Playfully, you hit his shoulder. “I always finish.”
“Is that so?”
You look at him as innocent as possible. “Yeah. Thanks to you.”
Jungkook goes dizzy.
As he’s about to make a shameless remark, the waiter squeezes himself in between you two and places water down for the table. Everyone thanks him and reaches for a cup. Jungkook hands you one and you drink it.
“Thirsty as always,” he shakes his head at you fondly.
Then, he takes a sip of his water. By complete accident, some water spills and gets the corner of his mouth and a bit of his chin wet. You laugh, put down your cup, and tug on your sleeves. Without much thought, you move closer to him and use your sleeves to dry him.
“You always spill your drink,” you nag. “Are you a child?”
He stays still, not wanting you to move away. “No.”
You taunt him. “Baby.”
“Who the fuck is baby?” Jungkook mimics.
Lowering your gaze, you send him a warning look. He laughs and puts his hands up in surrender. As you finish cleaning him up, you sneak in a final comment. “Yah, a lot of girls would break up with you if you do this shit on a first date… Such an ick. Imagine going out with a guy that needs a sippy cup.”
Jungkook rolls his eyes at how extensive you’re stretching this out. “It’s charming. I make it charming. My girlfriend would just have to get over it. It’s that simple.”
“Sure,” you agree with a sarcastic tone. “As if I can ever get over it.”
At this point, Jungkook is going to lose track of how many times you’ve made his heart skip a beat. This is completely unfair. How do you say shit like that so easily and captivate him without even knowing? Should he say something about it?
As he opens his mouth to speak, he loses his chance.
“___, Jungkook,” Eunwoo chimes in, “Since this is ___’s first time eating with the team… Should we just order our usual?”
Jungkook nods, agreeing with the suggestion. You do the same and state you feel indifferent. Eunwoo then goes on and on about the food. He tells you about the dishes he thinks you’ll like and which ones you should avoid due to your preferences. All the shit he says are things Jungkook has noticed about you before—it just annoys the hell out of him that Eunwoo is telling you all this shit like he’s still your boyfriend.
He isn’t.
So, he should shut the fuck up, right?
Jungkook’s thoughts are put on pause when his phone vibrates. He looks at the notification and reads:
Yuna [8:07PM]: stop making that face
Yuna [8:07PM]: idk if u're jealous or need to shit
Jungkook [8:08PM]: lol but like did u see her flirting w me 😌🤘
Yuna [8:08PM]: yes. do u want a medal or smt?
Jungkook [8:09PM]: she wants me fr 🦄💕
Yuna [8:11PM]: is that why she nd eunwoo look like they're abt to kiss?? 😳
Instantly, Jungkook looks up from his phone and turns to you. You're just laughing and talking with Eunwoo. No kissing in sight.
Yuna [8:11PM]: made u look 🤣
Jungkook [8:13PM]: not funny.
Yuna's laughter fills the room. You turn to her, breaking away from your conversation with Eunwoo.
"What's so funny?" you ask.
She shrugs with a smug smile on her face. Pointing at him, she teases, "Jungkook's in a mood."
You look at Jungkook and see him roll his eyes. He sinks into his seat and mutters a few inaudible words. From the looks of it, you can almost swear that his eyes were a little teary. Was he about to cry or something?
"You okay?" you ask him softly. Your concern grows as he lifts his face and looks at you. He looks tired. Exhausted even. "Do you wanna talk?"
Jungkook feels a sense of relief.
You care.
Thank god you care.
In response, he squeezes your thigh. “I’m good,” he promises. “You okay?”
You nod, leaning in. “More than.”
It happens so fast. Your eyes fluttered closed, and you were barely an inch away from his lips. He even dipped his head—and then you caught yourself.
Holy shit, were you just about to kiss him? In front of everyone? When did this become second nature? You want to believe that only you caught yourself… But it’s too late. Jungkook was bracing himself.
He knew what you were about to do. He was giving in too.
As you break away, his heart breaks a little. Laughing awkwardly, you turn back to Eunwoo and continue your conversation with him. At this point, he isn’t sure if he’s just hangry or purely annoyed with everything and everyone. He feels so alone. He hates that you’re right beside him too.
He’s so fucking over this.
When the food arrives, the spread is breathtaking. Maybe it’s because everyone is hungry as fuck and the game was a huge success, but the mood suddenly lightens. The smell of meat being grilled and the sound of the side dishes being passed around was music to everyone’s ears.
As Jungkook grills the meat, he places the first one ready on your plate. He continues to pile your plate. With lingering eyes, Taehyung groans out in frustration.
“Yah!” He cries, “that’s unfair. You can’t possibly give ___ all that meat! Give me some!”
Yuna hits him playfully and tells him to let Jungkook be. She reaches over to the other grill and places meat on his plate. Taehyung huffs, and sinks into his seat.
“Jungkook used to put meat on my plate first.” Taehyung continues to whine.
You all hear him but choose to ignore his words. You aren’t even sure how you’re supposed to act with this. Jungkook was always sweet to you. He has always looked out for you. He has been a gentleman… Now that you’re paying attention to him—you can’t help but feel so infatuated.
You're drawn to him.
“Do you even eat that much meat?” Eunwoo teases, as he reaches over your plate and picks a piece of meat off. He shoves it in his mouth and you laugh at him. His cheeks are all puffy from the food he stuffed in.
“No, but that doesn’t mean you can steal it off my plate,” you mutter. “You’re such a thief.”
“I stole your heart once upon a time,” he reminds you. “I’ll be the thief if you’re the cop.”
You cringe at him. “Thank god you broke up with me.”
“You used to love my lines!” Eunwoo jokes, suddenly ruffing your hair like how he did at the field. You shove his hand away and groan at him.
Jungkook witnesses it all.
The entire time, he feels like he’s being tortured. Sure, you’re allowed to have other guy friends. Sure, you’re allowed to have exes… So why was this bothering him so much? Eunwoo is a good guy too! He’s his friend and it’s not like Jungkook has dibs. If we’re being realistic—Eunwoo had you first.
Cue Jungkook’s insecurities.
Do they know how long it took for Jungkook to get to where he is with you right now? How long he had to wait just for him to be able to hook your pinkies together under a table? How long it took for you to sit down beside him without arguing? How long it took for you to accept his presence? How long it took him to get you to act cute?
Too long.
And here Eunwoo is—a mere ex-boyfriend—getting your banters and treating you like you’re still his.
It makes Jungkook sick to his stomach. He’s losing his appetite by the second.
His thoughts are put on pause when Eunwoo proclaims: “___, look! Our favourite… Perilla leaves!”
Jungkook’s eyes bulge.
You smile at Eunwoo and practically celebrate with him. As he picks one up with his chopsticks, another sticks to it. As you pick up your chopsticks, you take the other side and peel the perilla leaf apart. Together, you and Eunwoo giggle and wrap the perilla leaf with some meat. Suddenly, he brings his wrapped perilla leaf to your mouth. Happily, you eat what he offered.
“Good bite, baby.” Eunwoo praises you.
With a mouth full, you childishly hit him and scold him for not taking a bite himself. Eunwoo listens and picks up another perilla leaf. You two repeat to peel them a part and—
Jungkook wants to kill himself.
Oh god, he wants to rip Eunwoo’s head off.
To make matters worse, Yuna attempts to be of rescue.
"Eunwoo," she gasps. "Aren't you being a little too shameless?"
Eunwoo shrugs as he prepares another bite for you. "Yuna, just because there's a goalie doesn't mean I can't score."
That does it. Something inside Jungkook snaps. He wants to be so mad at you—no, he is so mad at you.
How could you do this to him? How could you let Eunwoo say such things?
Don’t you know what this all means? Falling in love. Marriage. Children. A whole fucking nuclear future with someone that wasn’t him. It’s fucking insane you’d let Eunwoo go this far… And right in front of Jungkook? Were you serious? Do you hate him this much?
In a hurry, Jungkook takes his phone and opens his iMessage. He taps on your name— which is easy because it’s pinned—and sends you a text.
Then, he puts his phone down and begins to shove food into his mouth. He stays quiet and glares at the meat as if the meat did him wrong too. He can’t even begin to express how he feels—it’s just all over the place. He is all over the place.
When his text is sent, your phone vibrates. You glance at Jungkook, a little confused as you see that he sent you a text. Sliding your phone open, you tap on his message.
mfker [8:32PM]: video attachment
Curiously, you tap on the video. As it loads, you turn down your phone volume just in case it was too loud. When the volume icon goes away, your screen reveals a familiar zooming in shot of Jungkook's face. He rolls his eyes and you hear yourself laugh. Suddenly, the angle switches to you holding the camera out at arms length.
You see the corner of your face. Your boobs. Your ass. His abs. His smirk. Him. Naked.
Your hands fly to your mouth, stopping yourself from gasping out-loud.
The sex tape.
Your sex tape with him.
In a split second, you shut your phone and turn it over. Wide-eyed, you push yourself away from the table and make the effort to excuse yourself. Everyone acknowledges your announcement but for Jungkook. He doesn’t even look up.
As you get up, you turn to him. You utter under your breath, “meet me outside. We need to talk.”
The minute Jungkook slams his car door shut, you get right to the point.
“What the fuck was that?”
Jungkook settles into his seat, unafraid of your anger. He was unashamed. What he did was reckless, yes, but it was no mistake.
With a nonchalant tone, he answers you. “What? The video? You told me to send it to you.”
Groaning, you bring your hands to your face. “Not during dinner! Not when our friends are sitting beside us! That was fucking embarrassing. Are you trying to humiliate me? That shit is private. It's us intimate. What kind of game are you playing—”
“I’m not playing any fucking game,” Jungkook controls his rage. “Why are you so embarrassed? Because it’s me fucking you in that video and not Eunwoo?”
Your eyes widen at his words.
You want to scream. Instead, with a calm and slow tone, you confront him. “So… That’s what this is about?”
Jungkook sighs heavily, clearly fed up with this conversation already. He doesn’t answer you. Instead, he reaches over and opens his glove compartment. As he rummages through, you huff at his avoidance. When he finds what he needs, he aggressively shuts the compartment closed. You watch as he brings his device to his lips. Inhaling, he takes a hit of his vape.
You glare at him.
“Can you do that on your own time? I’m trying to talk to you.”
He turns to you and blows a puff at you.
“Jungkook,” you warn him, “stop it.”
In response, he shrugs and takes a final hit.
“I didn’t even know you vape,” you say quietly. “Aren’t you supposed to take care of your body and shit? As an athlete?”
He chuckles at the label. Athlete. Sure, that’s what he was… But he was also on a break for a good amount of time. He was also human.
“I’m just stressed,” he admits. “You make me stressed.”
You laugh and take the opportunity to grab the vape from his hands. Without much thought, you open your door and toss it out. He rolls his eyes and just as he’s about to open his car door to retrieve it—you catch his wrist.
“Can you focus on me?”
As much as he hates to admit it, your words will always win him over. Even though he hesitates, he surrenders. Jungkook settles himself into his seat again and puts his hands on the wheel. Bowing his head, he shuts his eyes and takes a moment.
Silence fills the car as you two try to figure out which direction this conversation should go. So far, not so good.
You attempt once again. This time, you go from a different angle.
“Why did you leave me earlier today? I know you were busy but… You didn’t even say goodbye.” In all honesty, you hate it when you say shit like this. You feel so weak and like you could let out a sob in between words. Not to mention the fact that you’re rarely in this position. This was new. You have never fought for anyone the way you fight for Jungkook.
“I had a game.”
Jungkook’s concise answer irks you. Was he fucking serious? Could he try even just a little bit?
“I know you had a game.. At least, I found out through Mina’s Instagram post… Which… I mean, you didn’t even bother telling me you had a game. Yuna goes to those—I can too.”
No.
That’s not even what you really mean to say. What you mean to say is: I want to go to your games. I want you to want me to be there. I want you to care if I’m there or not. I want to be the one wearing your fucking jersey.
Jungkook responds plainly, “I told you… I didn’t feel like begging for you to come.”
“You don’t have to beg,” you pitch. “I would have—”
“You would have what?” he sneers. “Would you have come then? Without me asking? Without me telling you? Or did you come out of spite? Like, the fact that Mina was around me and you weren’t… Is that what brought you to me today?”
Hilarious.
Wow, what a dick.
“No,” you object. “I came because you came over for a quickie and then left. Without a word. Without a kiss. It was unlike you. I wanted to talk about it but you’re acting like this and I can’t—I don’t understand what’s going on. Jungkook, what’s going on?”
At this point, you're practically desperate. You reach for his hands. Eyes searching for his, he shakes your grip off his hands the second you intertwine them. You furrow your eyebrows, completely confused and shocked at his rejection. Wasn’t this what he wanted?
“I hate you.”
Suddenly, your throat feels dry. In an attempt to calm your mind, you search for his hands again. For the second time, he pushes yours away. Then, you brace yourself. What he says next could ultimately be the end… Right? This is where everything is headed.
The end.
Then, he says the oddest thing.
“I hate perilla leaves.”
You tilt your head at him. “What?”
“Are you going to marry him?”
You blink.
“Who?”
“Eunwoo.”
For a moment, you wonder if he’s joking. Was he actually serious? Your question is answered as Jungkook lifts his head and looks at you with a sad expression. It takes you by surprise. Come to think of it—you’ve never seen him upset. At least, not like this. Not sad. Not defeated.
“You’re mad at me… Because of a perilla leaf?”
Your loss for words. Unexplainable. Unbelievable.
He looks at you with despair. “Do you not get it? ___, the next thing to happen after you peel perilla leaves with someone is holding hands with them. Then, you fall in love. Marriage. Babies. What about me? What happens to me, huh? What happens to us? You don't even hold my hand.”
You’re dumbfounded.
“Jungkook, you can’t be serious…”
“He patted your head. Are you a fucking dog?”
Sharply, you mention, “I patted your head too.”
It doesn’t matter. He looks at you dead in the eyes. “Eunwoo is supposed to be your ex-boyfriend, not your fiancé.”
You almost gag. “He’s not my fiancé—”
“You peeled the perilla—no. You let him feed you. Fuck you for that.”
Frustrated, you curse. “Holy shit, do you hear yourself?”
He doesn't utter another word. Instead, he stays quiet. Then, when you open your mouth to speak, he beats you to it.
“I hate Eunwoo.”
A beat.
“I hate Mina.”
Just as expected, Jungkook provokes you.
“What the hell does Mina have to do with this—”
“Everything!” you express rather triggered. "Look, I don't know what you expect from me. I’m not going to go to your fucking practices with a towel in my hand ready to wipe your precious golden sweat. I’m not Mina—”
Jungkook cuts you off only to repeat his question. “What the hell does you not being Mina have to do with all of this? How does that justify the perilla leaf?”
At this point, you feel like you're losing your mind. Childishly, you chant: “Fuck the perilla leaf. The issue is that you're all about her. Mina this, Mina that! You’re so fucking annoying with her—”
Jungkook snaps. “Are you this insecure?”
“Fuck that,” you grumble. “She was wearing your jersey today. How do you think that made me feel?”
He glares at you. “You’re fucking insane if you think I rather see her wear my jersey over you.”
“Why’d she have it on then?” you interrogate. “Are you fucking her too?”
Line: crossed.
There's madness in Jungkook's eyes. His chest burns in slow anger and feels like he's overheating from everything you've said and done thus far. He's tired.. He feels like he's losing.
Fuck it.
One last fight.
One last try.
“Are you fucking serious?” Jungkook slows down his words, trying his best not to raise his voice. It’s so fucking hard. He’s so irritated by your attitude and your fucking delusion. “___, I acted like a total douche to Mina today so she’d leave me alone. I feel horrible already, but I also feel relieved. So, stop it. You don’t have to hate her. You shouldn’t hate her. You don’t need to make these fucking assumptions because that’s just out of line.”
Like fire, your own anger consumes you. “Are you defending her?”
“There’s nothing to defend,” he insists, voice beginning to tremble. “Holy shit, I was such a douche to her already so you can chill.”
You glare at him. “I am chill.”
Lies.
“You gave me a blowjob that one time so I wouldn’t make it to my dinner plans with her,” he comments. “That was a pretty bitch move.”
Out of reflex, your mouth drops a little. You can not believe it. Did he really bring that up? “Excuse me?”
Jungkook blinks at you. “It was a bitch move. I didn’t mind, though. Why? Because it felt like you wanted me. Every time you make me feel that way—I can’t let that shit go.”
“So what? Do you want me to say thank you?” you spit. “Are you fucking kidding me? I don’t care if you—”
“You never asked for it, I get that,” Jungkook interrupts you. He takes a minute. Suddenly, he recalls his moment with Mina at the field and feels his heart break a little. So... This is what it feels like to be on the receiving end. “What I’m saying is that I stopped entertaining her because I—well, I thought it would ease your heart. You overthink so fucking much, I'm beginning to run out of solutions. Do you even know how much I hate your jokes? The ones about me talking to other girls? I hate them. I only talk to you. I only think of you. Only you.”
Your heart drops.
“I never asked for any of that.”
Something is wrong.
All your words are wrong. Everything you want to say is not coming out of your mouth. What you mean to say to him is; oh my god. You didn’t have to do that for me, but I feel so seen and heard that you did.
Jealousy has always been a funny thing. Never has it been triggered the way it is when it comes to you and Jungkook. Though some may argue this to be toxic, it is simply the truth about relationships. Jealousy is a healthy emotion as long as it is expressed and validated moderately. It’s so hard to be upset with Jungkook when his confessions are so wholesome. He did a kind thing for you. He did it to bring you peace. Here you are, acting ungrateful because you can’t fathom the way he cares for you.
Jungkook huffs. “___, that’s exactly it. You never need to ask when it comes to me. Whatever you want, I give. I fold. Tenfold. That’s the fucking cycle we’re in and I’m beginning to get sick of it.”
A silence falls upon you two. All you hear are the raindrops from the sky begin to splat on his window. For a moment, you get so lost in your thoughts, that your head begins to hurt. After a few more moments of silence, you realize it isn't your head.
It's your heart.
It feels like a knife has been stabbed into it—his and yours. All at once, it just aches. You both feel it. Your hearts grow tired and fragile.
Truly, it's ironic how the gentle silence is ruined by such brutal words. It's then when the knife, that was stabbed into both of your hearts, twists.
"What do we do now?"
"I think we need a break."
#bts fanfic#bts scenario#jungkook scenario#jk smut#jk angst#jk fluff#jungkook jealous#jk x yn#jungkook x reader#bts x reader#bts series#bts fic rec
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The Full Moon (Admiral!Bob Floyd x Reader)
Summary: Bob comes home one night from an event but the sight of something in front of you makes you a little hornier than usual
Warnings: SMUT! MINORS ARE STRICTLY FORBIDDEN!!! Breeding kink, so much other shit I can't even list out here, you guys know the drill (lol).
Tagging: @bradleybeachbabe @sebsxphia @rhettabbotts
Events, events, events, one after the other with no real end in sight. Bob was sick and damn tired of it, one Navy ball or fundraiser after another and hardly any time to spend with you or the babies at home, something he really needed now that winter had hit and another holiday would be around the corner.
His head, his shoulders and whole body were so tired it was a miracle he could get through the front door of that big Victorian house he shared with you and the kids, let alone march up the stairs to the sanctuary of your shared bedroom. Thank God Rooster and his wife had offered to take the kids and let them have a sleepover with Nicky and Pete. He couldn't have imagined having to keep Auggie and Patrick from running wild before bed.
Up to the room he went and into the bathroom, stripping off his dress blacks and hanging everything up on the door-hook. Bob sank right into the hot bath, letting out a long breath that he had forgot he had been holding in. He scrubbed every part of him down with the Irish Spring body wash and even let it foam in the hot water to help him relax.
When he had enough, Bob stepped out into the bedroom, letting the water out of the bath and throwing the towel into the laundry basket on the other side of the room. Bob's skin pricked with goosebumps as the cooler air in the bedroom surrounded him, more so now that he was completely naked.
He hadn't even seen you standing in the doorway either.
He hadn't heard your feet padding on the floor nor did he sense you sneaking up behind him until he felt it, a sound, hard smack on his left ass-cheek which had been exposed for your eyes to see.
"Well ahoy there Admiral!" you exclaimed, delivering the hard smack to his ass.
Bob yelped, turning around suddenly, cupping his junk in his hand and an over-exaggerated scowl on his face. There you were, (Y/n) Floyd, his lovely, sweet little wifey looking all innocent in your low cut, lacy white nightgown and a laughing smile on your face.
"Stop grabbing my ass," Bob said rather flatly, the expression still on his face.
"But the full moon was out and little wolfy couldn't help but howl," you said teasingly.
"Yeah well, little wolfy did more than howl," Bob pointed out.
You giggled a little, still blushing at your husband's naked form standing in front of you.
Yet the expression on Bob's face seemed to soften as he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your lips, catching you completely off guard and drawing a small moan out of you.
"Shhh, not another word," Bob told you gently.
You moaned again, the tingling between your legs becoming almost unbearable as his fingers parted the front of your nightgown, never once breaking the kiss that kept you both together. You arched your partially exposed breasts against his gentle fingertips, moaning when they brushed against your nipples.
Bob drew you in close, your leg flung across his hip as he buried his face in your neck and rutted against you. His groans, though quiet, were still obscene, more so when his hand pushed up the filmy skirts of your nightgown to caress your bare ass.
"You've been hiding this pretty little ass from me, haven't you Mrs. Floyd?" he groaned.
"Oh Bob.....please!"
Bob trailed all the sloppy, open mouthed kisses he possibly could between your cleavage, wanting to draw it out as slowly as possible. He very carefully laid you down on the bed, slipping his already hardened cock between your legs and moaning at the wetness that had already gathered.
"So wet for me, aren't you sweetheart?" he mumbled against your skin.
You could hardly get the words out, wanting him to push his cock further in. You reached in between the both of you, your hand a little cold despite your body feeling like it was on fire.
"Ah-ah!" Bob chided gently, moving your hand aside. "No more grabbing, Mrs. Floyd."
You feigned a pouty look before he smiled and kissed you again, the softness of his lips just enough to make some of your slickness gush onto his cock.
Bob's hips began rubbing against yours, slowly at first but as you both began to reach your high, his thrusting grew more rigorous as obscene thoughts began to fall off his tongue and out of his mouth.
"Wanna give you another baby Mrs. Floyd," Bob mumbled, his hips rubbing against yours. "Can't tell you how pretty you looked with Deidre.......all round and full with her resting in your tummy. Wanna get you full again."
You hissed and swore under your breath as he whispered all that dirty talk into your ear. You felt the wetness between your legs getting worse as his lips nipped at your ear and down your cheeks again. You both let out something akin to a moan and a whimper as Bob's hips stuttered against your own, your lips grazing against each other's as your rapid breathing began to even out.
You felt Bob's lips curling into a smile against your cheek before he kissed you and his heart beating fast in his chest as he lay on top of you. "Gimme a minute and I'll clean us both up," Bob groaned.
You kissed the crown of his head, your fingers running through his curling dark blonde hair that was still wet from the bath. "No need to hurry Bob," you assured him. "We've got all weekend."
You both helped clean each other up as best you could but soon, the sleepiness had gotten to you both. You and Bob both lay against each other in bed, himself still naked as you rested your head on his bare chest, listening to the sweet sound of his heart beating in your ear. Your gentle kissing and caressing was putting you both to sleep, totally relaxed and at ease with each other.
"Did you mean what you said Bob?" you asked.
"About what?"
"About......wanting another one?"
Bob smiled sleepily. "Sweetheart," he said sweetly. "There's always room for one more in the family and so much love to go around."
You smiled and pressed a sweet kiss to his lips as you fell asleep in each other's arms, yet the smiles on yours and Bob's faces had said it all, those same smiles you wore on the nights that Auggie, Patrick and Deidre had been concieved and the same stirring you felt in your belly when it had took.
#top gun maverick#robert bob floyd#bob floyd x reader#admiral!bob#admiral!bob floyd#admiral!bob floyd x reader#dagger squad
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greetings from austin, tx
cowboy like me chapter one
alright hwfg. first part of a dbf!joel series i'm gonna be working on. i hope you guys enjoy 🤍 please feel free to send in any requests or ideas, i'm constantly writing this so would love to know your thoughts!!!! love u all thank u sm for being the best
pairing: dbf!joel x fem!reader
summary: you return to austin after graduating to find everything as it always was. well, most things...
warnings: age gap (reader is 23, joel is 48), little bit of alcohol consumption, and lotsa flirtin and allusions to...something more
word count: 2.3k
series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist
The doorbell rings and your dad jumps up. “Ain’t got no cash ready. Be right back.”
He jogs off past you down the hall, but your eyes remain locked on Joel, who notices you once your dad’s gone. Or so you think.
“Rude to stare, darlin’,” he tsks, bringing his beer to his lips.
“Wasn’t starin’.”
“No?”
Summer. Texan summer. One of the few things drawing you back halfway across the country to your hometown: bright, sunny, so hot the car bonnets burn your fingertips. It had become a running joke between you and your dad: he’d send a picture of Austin’s scorching sunshine, and you’d reply a picture of New York’s grey skies.
You were ready to come back home.
That is, until your flight landed onto saturated wet tarmac, during the rainiest month of the year. It hasn’t let up in the five days since.
You stumble off the bus into a torrential downpour and throw your hood back up, but it’s no use. By the time you arrive at work, your clothes are soaked through, your hair is plastered to your shoulders, and your mood is worse than ever.
Sal hands you a towel from the back when you walk into the office, but not before giving a hearty laugh from his desk.
“You oughta be gettin’ yourself a car, anyway, lady. Now that you’re back home.”
You give him as sincere a smile as your cheeks will allow. He’s your boss, sure, but he’s also a buddy of your dad’s. Gave you a part-time job for some extra cash when you were still at school, and has taken you back on now you’ve graduated. It’s in your best interests to keep him sweet.
The hardware store is the same as it always was. A little dim, a little dusty; same old tools and same old customers, but homely. You get to work unpacking this morning’s delivery, hauling boxes off of the trolley and filling the shelves. The day passes quickly enough, and you’re folding up empty cardboard boxes to waste the last half hour of your shift when a voice hums from behind you.
“Well, hello, darlin’.”
You stand up straight and spin around to find Joel Miller before you, trademark flannel and subtle-but-still-there smile on.
“Hey, stranger,” you reply, smiling back, before he opens his arms and pulls you in for a bear hug.
Joel Miller. Same as always: tall, rugged, handsome, dark hair and beard singed with grey, warm and sweet-smelling, grumbling, mumbling Joel. His chin rests on top of your head for a second before you pull away, and he looks you up and down.
“Been meaning to come over to see you since you got back, your dad said you were pretty busy unpackin’. Thought I’d give you a few days. Everything alright?”
“All good,” you reply with a nod. “I accumulated a lot of crap in New York.”
He smirks, shoulders jerking a little with a laugh. “Didn’t realise you’d gotten your job back in here,” he looks around, “you likin’ it?”
You shrug. “It’s money. And I know how things are run. Sal’s a good guy.”
Joel nods. “When do you get off?”
You glance down at your watch. “Five minutes.”
“You want a ride home?”
You take a deep breath and breathe out a, “Yes, please,” with a sigh. It’s been a long, damp day.
“I’ll just go grab these,” he holds up two boxes of nails, “meet you outside when you’re done, kid.”
He brushes past your shoulder heavily as he passes, something he always used to do when you were younger. You snort when he mutters, “My bad.”
Joel Miller and your dad have been best buds since, like, the eighties. Your dad has a few years on Joel, but they’re as close as can be. Grew up on the same street, saw each other through girlfriends, marriage, children, divorce. Never one without the other, all that.
Joel’s daughter, Sarah – four years your junior – is a freshman out west, somewhere in California. Another of the reasons you thought it was time to come home: your dad and Joel must feel pretty lonely having both of you gone.
When you’ve grabbed your hoodie and bag and made your way back out front, Joel’s being served by Anna, a girl you went to school with. She stayed here in Austin, has some side hustle selling makeup and perfume. She flutters her eyelashes at Joel as she rings him up. You cringe as you find place at his side.
“Ready?” he murmurs, looking down at you.
You nod.
“How’s things, anyways, Mr. Miller?” Anna asks, even as he’s turning to leave.
“Uh, good, thanks. Good luck with the…makeup.” Then he gives a low grunt and makes for the door.
“Not much of a talker,” you mutter to Anna, and flatten your lips against one another in the form of a goodbye.
Joel’s sat out front in his truck, looking down the receipt.
“Girl charged me for three boxes. If she wasn’t talkin’ so damn much about her perfumes…”
You pull your seatbelt over your shoulder. “Why don’t you go back in there and get your money back?”
“What, and subject myself to her battin’ eyelashes again? Almost blew me off my feet.”
Your head falls back against the headrest with laughter. “You know, you were the first thing she asked me about on my first shift back.”
“I bet I was, baby,” he replies, switching the ignition on and reaching an arm behind your seat as he reverses back.
You spend most of the drive home catching up, telling him about New York and listening to what antics he and your dad have gotten up to since your last visit home. It’s easy talking to Joel, easier than with your dad. He hums and grunts, lets you ramble, tells you what he thinks, then the pair of you fall back into comfortable silence until the next conversation sparks. No judgement, no lectures. Just Joel.
When you pull up in your drive, Joel casts you a meaningful look and says, “He’s really missed you, y’know. We both have.”
“You both have?”
“Sure. Gets quiet ‘round here at times. And with Sarah gone…It’ll be real nice to have you back again.”
“I’ll keep you on your toes, Miller.”
“Holdin’ you to it.”
“Joel? Hey, buddy.” Your dad’s voice breaks apart your conversation and you both turn to see him approaching from the garage. “Hi, kiddo.”
“Hey. Joel came in to get some stuff, gave me a ride home.” You hop out of the truck, and Joel wanders round to meet you.
“Well, thanks, man. You say thank you?” he asks.
You glance awkwardly at Joel, muttering a thank you like some little kid. He shakes his head softly in return, giving you a look that your dad misses, but you understand.
“C’mon inside, I was just tidying up. Stayin’ for dinner, Joel? I bet this girl’s been chewing your ear off about NYC…” Your dad’s voice fades away as he wanders back into the garage, and you and Joel begin to follow.
“Ain’t no need to thank me,” he whispers, leaning into your space.
You nod appreciatively. “My presence is thanks enough, I know.”
He nudges you toward the house.
Your dad orders in pizza and you set the table while he and Joel sit to discuss a potential new client. Joel sits at the edge of the table, turned outward to face the sliding doors, elbow hooked over the back of his chair. As you maneuver around them, placing mats down, you can’t help but note how fucking good he looks.
Tousled hair, unshaven beard. A broadness that even his own shirt can barely hold in; from where you’re standing, you can see where his neck meets his toned shoulders, skin tanned from the sun and the tiniest burst of chest hair over his collar…
The doorbell rings and your dad jumps up. “Ain’t got no cash ready. Be right back.”
He jogs off past you down the hall, but your eyes remain locked on Joel, who notices you once your dad’s gone. Or so you think.
“Rude to stare, darlin’,” he tsks, bringing his beer to his lips.
“Wasn’t starin’.”
“No?”
“Uh-uh. You got a stain on your shirt.”
His brows furrow and his head instantly snaps down to his chest. “Where?”
You snort, wandering over to put his plate on the mat. “My bad,” you whisper, leaning over, “must’ve been the light.”
Joel’s breath wavers only for a second, before your dad re-enters the room and he’s forced to compose himself.
“Alright, let’s see…Pepperoni, bleh, keep that one on that side of the table, please, and plain cheese over here.”
“See you haven’t improved Dad’s taste in pizza,” you say to Joel as you pull your chair out beside his and sit down, cross-legged.
“He – he’s immune to change,” he replies, then, only once he’s regained composure, adds, “or improvement of any kind.”
“Hey,” your dad protests, lifting a slice. “Cool it on the insults, here. You’ve been back six days,” he points a greasy finger at you, then steers it in Joel’s direction, “and you’re the one who turned down Lois last month. Talk about improvement, she could turn your life around, son.”
“Who the hell is Lois?” you ask, mouthful of pizza, aiming for chill, but coming across overly interested.
Joel shakes his head, only looking at you briefly from the corners of his eyes. “Receptionist at Clark’s Plant Hire. And I didn’t turn her down.”
“She asked you out?” Your knee brushes against his waist. He feels it; you know from the way his body tenses.
“She…said she’d like to go for a drink, sometime. I said yeah, maybe…some time.”
“Ouch. Poor Lois.”
He turns to face you now. “Don’t give me the same spiel your dad did, alright? I can decide for myself when I’m ready to be…datin’.”
“Wouldn’t he be nice with a receptionist from a plant hire on his arm?” Your dad fades into the background as you and Joel back-and-forth.
“If you don’t think you turned her down, why say you’re not ready to be dating?”
“Ha! See, my little girl,” Dad waves his slice of pizza around, “she got a degree, Joel. She’s smarter ‘n us. She’s got you on that one.”
“What is your degree in, again? Law?” Joel speaks through his teeth.
You beam back, happy to have riled him. “Film.”
“Film. My mistake. Must’ve felt like I was bein’ interrogated or som’.”
You decide to pull it back then. Enough discussing Joel’s love life – it doesn’t interest you much, not for the right reasons, anyway. The conversation shifts naturally to your degree, your graduation, and the year you spent living in the city afterward.
When most of the pizza is gone, the three of you sit idly chatting; the last Rangers game, the neighborhood barbecue coming up, the weather. Right as your dad voices concern about a job he has next week, his cell starts to ring in the living room.
As hasty and tactless as ever, he jumps up and almost knocks his chair flying. You and Joel laugh quietly as he bounds off in search for his phone.
You turn back to Joel, who’s playing with the label of his beer bottle.
“Hey.” You nudge him with your knee. He grunts in response. “Hey,” you say, clearer, this time pulling your legs up and over onto his lap. “Didn’t mean what I said about that Lois lady. I’m sure you had your reasons, and it’s none of my business. Or my dad’s.”
He stifles a laugh, sucking a breath in until his chest meets his chin. Then he lifts his head to look over to you. “Sorry I snapped. Wasn’t all serious, but I don’t want you thinkin’ I’m mad with you.”
“You can be, if you want.” You lean forward. “Just not for long, okay? It’d be a long summer with just my dad to hang with if Sarah’s gone and you ain’t talking to me.”
This time he laughs. For real. You mirror his swollen cheeks, glad to see you’ve amused him. He puts the bottle on the table and his hands fall to your ankles, where he gently rubs with his thumbs.
“When does she get home?” you ask him.
“Couple weeks. Still got finals and all that to worry about.”
You nod knowingly, muttering, “Rough.”
He gently lifts your legs from his lap and stands, towering over you, your chin inches away from his belt buckle as you look up at him. He doesn’t move, just brings a hand down to cup your jaw and tilt your head back ever so slightly with his thumb under your chin.
You can feel your pulse in your throat. You know Joel can, too. You clench between your legs, an ache forming there, and the only thought behind your eyes is him remedying it.
You bring your hands up to settle behind his thighs, trying desperately to send him a message through your doe eyes. Something in the way the corners of his mouth rise almost imperceptibly tells you he hears you loud and clear.
Your dad bursts back into the room like a bat out of hell, and the two of you spring apart.
“Supplier had some trouble with directions,” he mutters, tossing his cell onto the counter.
Joel grumbles in response, then, like nothing at all out of the ordinary just happened, begins gathering the bottles and gestures to you to grab the pizza boxes. You follow him over to the sink where you set the boxes down and he runs the bottles under the faucet, filling them up and pouring the dregs of beer down the drain.
Your dad’s busy clearing the placemats from the table, babbling to himself about work, when you feel Joel’s shoulder lean into yours.
“Trouble,” he murmurs.
You tilt your head and furrow your brows in response.
“You,” he breathes, “are nothin’ but trouble.”
You smile back at him gleefully.
Trouble, indeed.
#joel miller#joel miller fic#dbf! joel miller#dbf!joel#joel miller x reader#the last of us#tlou#tlou fic#dbf!joel miller#joel tlou#pedro pascal#joel miller pedro pascal#cowboy like me
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Hi! Idk if you’re taking requests, but maybe a sequel to ‘headache’ with Alessia, where this time reader is the one with the headache?
part one
headache 2.0 II a.russo
alarm bells had sung out in alessia's head from the very first moment she'd woken up this morning, having fallen asleep with you tucked up beside her she was surprised to find the bed empty.
sitting up and rubbing her face tiredly she'd blinked the sleep from her eyes and checked the other bed, maybe you'd wanted some space.
but no, that one was also empty which further peaked her suspicion.
"babe? are you here?" she called out, frown deepening when she didn't receive a response at first. then after a few beats of silence pass she heard what sounded like the faintest of hums from the bathroom.
quickly kicking off the duvet she tied her hair up and out of her face, padding toward the open bathroom door, heart falling into her stomach at the sight of you laid down on the floor with a towel over your face.
"baby?" she was knelt beside you in an instant, gently peeling off the wet towel as you blinked a few times, wincing at the harsh white light of the bathroom and groaning quietly. "what's happened? are you hurt? sick? did you pass out? throw up?" alessia helped you to sit up, checking all over you as you softly pushed her away.
"i'm fine less." you brushed off her concerns with a sigh that didn't pass as okay. "well i just found you asleep on the bathroom floor, so something is up pretty girl. talk to me!" alessia worried, still fussing over you as you gently pushed away her hands, pinching the bridge of your nose.
"i just have a bit of a headache and i thought the cold tiles and a wet towel might help." you admitted, eyes closed as alessia reached up to flick off the bathroom light. "oh my love." the blonde's face softened, quietly murmuring that the floor was hardly clean and helping you up to your feet and back to bed.
"how bad is it one to ten? don't lie please." she all but whispered, squatted down as you sat on the edge of the bed, still pinching the bridge of your nose hoping it might relieve some pressure. "a six? seven maybe? it was worse before but it keeps going up and down, i woke up around four i think." you mumbled quietly.
"hey why didn't you wake me?" alessia frowned, thumb gently carressing your cheek. "didn't wanna bother you." you grumbled quietly, the obvious strain in your voice causing her heart to break a little further.
"my beautiful girl you are never a bother, we've spoken about this before." alessia assured you with another frown, kissing the crown of your head as you nodded and mumbled a near inaudible apology.
"i'm gonna go talk to sarina babe you cannot train today." alessia decided for you seeing the obvious wince of pain flash across your face once again.
"i'll be fine less! please. we're only in the gym today and i can handle that, i just need some water and some food and a tablet." you argued, alessia biting her tongue knowing just how stubborn you could be, especially when it came to national camps.
"fine. but i'm still telling her you've got a headache so she keeps an eye on it!" your girlfriend warned as you nodded, also not having the energy to go back and forth. "i can go down and bring you up some food baby? give you an extra hour or two of rest." her tone softened again as she looked at you sympathetically.
"no no it's okay. can you get me a bottle of water though please?" you requested softly, a cold bottle from the fridge in your hand within seconds, a sigh of relief leaving your mouth as you pressed it against your closed eyes.
whilst you did alessia raced around the room, drawing the curtains and trying to make the room as dark as possible, swearing quietly as she stubbed her toe on the end of the bed, biting down on her bottom lip to stop her from yelling out she took a few deep breaths.
"come here and lay down baby, we still have some time before breakfast." alessia moved to sit up against the headrest of the bed, tapping the space between her legs as you managed to shuffle over. laying down your head rested in her lap and her fingers carded through your hair.
"is this okay?" she asked softly with a frown, bending down to mumble the words against your forehead, leaving a lingering kiss on the warm skin as you nodded wordlessly, melting into her tender touch.
"i love you lessi." you whispered out as the blonde swooned, ducking down again to this time press a sweet kiss to your lips, whispering those same three words right back.
~
"maybe this wasn't the best idea." alessia mumbled, herself wincing at the sudden change of volume as the two of you entered the dining hall she couldn't imagine how it would feel for you. "it's fine." you dismissed with a small sigh, tucking yourself more into her side.
"what do you feel like you can stomach babe?" the blonde asked quietly, pressing a tender kiss to the side of your head, her arm draped protectively over your shoulder as you cuddled into her side.
"whatever you're having, maybe some eggs though please." you whispered, alessia nodding and ordering the two of you eggs the way she knew you liked, grabbing some toast and fruit for the pair of you as well.
"good morning lovebirds!" alessia winced as mary appeared beside her, throwing her own arm over your shoulder as the striker was quick to shove her off. "oi! feeling a bit possessive are we less?" the goalkeeper teased, earning herself a withering glare.
"she's got a headache mary and you're as loud as a foghorn. shut up or go away!" alessia warned sternly, smiling in thanks to the chef as she grabbed your shared tray.
"jesus alright! no need to bite my head off." mary rolled her eyes, staying behind to grab her own food as alessia guided the two of you to an empty table on the opposite side of the room, as far away from everyone as the two of you could get.
"i can feed myself lessi my head hurts not my hands." you cracked a smile as the blonde attempted to offer you a forkful of eggs, picking up your own cutlery.
"just trying to take care of you is all baby." alessia kissed your cheek sweetly, the two of you falling into a comfortable silence as you ate, your body still tucked securely into her side.
but of course that peace didn't last.
"oi ya left me on read this morning kid, not appreciated!" alessia's eyes nearly bugged out of her head as lucy teasingly smacked the back of your head, taking a seat with her breakfast and missing the pain which flickered across your face.
"lucy!" alessia seethed, fussing over you as you mumbled you were fine, gently prying away her hands.
"what? she's not made of fine china less she hits me about all the time." the older girl rolled her eyes unknowingly. "she's got a fucking headache and you just smacked her right where it hurts!" alessia growled protectively, lucy's face paling as she paused mid mouthful.
"shit! sorry kid." the northerner winced apologetically as you waved her off wordlessly, the pain starting to set in behind your eyes now from the harsh light of the hall, training your gaze down to the table instead.
"good moorning england!" alessia winced now as ella, grace and georgia joined the three of you, ella screaming at the top of her lungs as she dropped herself down across from you, grace and georgia chattering away.
"what no good mornin back? where's ya manners gone then!" grace teased as she greeted you and you remained silent, pulling you into a headlock as alessia was on her feet within seconds, yanking the younger girl off who paled at the sight of the scowl on her face.
"i was jokin round with her less honest!" the blonde apologised with her hands in the air, wide eyed and terrified of the striker who suddenly sent a mean glare to the entire table, stood protectively behind you.
"whats in your shorts this morning then less? why do you look like somebody pissed in your cereal." ella sent her a toothy grin, lucy stamping on her foot and shaking her head as the mancunian frowned in confusion. "what?"
"she's got a headache would all of you please shut up and keep your hands off of her and to yourself!" alessia warned firmly, dropping back into her seat and tugging you tighter into her side, arm again wrapped securely around your shoulders.
"a headache? aw poor baby!" ella teased, lucy sighing with a wince as even georgia shook her head to signal ella to lay off.
"tooney would you like to get through today being able to talk? because i'll personally shove my hand in your mouth and tie your tongue in a knot if it means you shut up!" the blonde threatened seriously, rendering her best friend speechless.
"lessi it's fine love, eat your breakfast please." you murmured knocking your knee against her as she fixed the girls with one final glare, kissing your cheek and going back to eating, an awkward silence settling around the table.
"so less would you prefer we call you nurse russo or doctor russo?"
"right thats it come here tooney!"
#alessia russo x reader#woso fanfics#woso imagine#woso x reader#alessia russo#woso blurbs#engwnt#woso
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