#it’s just as relaxing now as it was when I was 11
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Time Of Our Lives || Part 11
Part 11:
Liana could easily say she would pay thousands of dollars to fly home on another day. But obviously she didn't have thousands of spare dollars, and the ones who bought her the plane tickets were her parents, along with Art's parents. Of course, seating them side by side the entire way from Stanford home.
Most of the semester she managed to avoid him.
From time to time she would feel a scrutinizing gaze on her and knew it was Art, but every time she looked up to tell him to go fuck himself, their eyes didn't meet.
Now she has to spend several hours on the plane next to him, with both of them remembering the last time they flew together and she fell asleep on his shoulder. Both know she doesn’t plan on sleeping a single moment on this flight. There’s no way that in a moment of weakness, she will touch Art Donaldson by choice ever again.
Liana's leg shook uncontrollably, causing Art to sigh.
He wanted to pull out one of her earbuds and tell her she could relax and that he wouldn’t bite her (no matter how much he wanted to).
At this stage, he already thought it was ridiculous. Months have passed, and she acted as if he didn’t exist when they both knew that if they just talked about it, this horrible period would be behind them.
"I bought the snack you like with the jam." He couldn’t resist and pulled out one of her earbuds. His hand brushed her cheek for a second. If he were a stronger man, he wouldn’t have done it. But even if Art Donaldson is strong in most areas of life, he is very weak when it comes to Liana Levy.
"Can I have it back, please?" She asked with a coldness that never characterized her.
Even before Stanford, when they were younger, and she tried to make him think she didn’t want any connection to him, she wasn’t cold. She would roll her eyes, go into tantrums, and distance herself as much as she could. She was never indifferent to him.
He feared this indifference like a sheep fears a lion.
He put the earbud in her hand and left his hand on hers. She let him for a moment, and he closed his eyes, relishing the touch that lasted exactly three seconds until she recovered and moved away from him as much as she could. As if he might infect her with an incurable disease.
She took the snack he bought for her.
Because if there’s one thing to say about Liana, it's that she can't give up her manners, and even when she’s furious with him to the core, she will do this small act to please him. It made his heart ache and kept him silent for the rest of the flight.
Again, like in a déjà vu feeling, her father was waiting for them, and they got into the car.
"Liana, even if Mom acts coldly, it's not because she's angry. Okay?" Her father suddenly said, and Liana blushed. Art examined her as she shrank into her seat.
"Can we talk about this at home?" She asked quietly, embarrassed by the direction of the conversation.
"No, because Mom is at home, and Art is practically family. Right, kiddo?" Her father smiled at him through the mirror.
God, how he loved her father and the small window he opened for him into her life.
"Anyway, she almost completely fine with everything, and she even wanted to call a few days ago to ask how you were doing." Her father continued. Art didn’t know something had happened between Liana and her mother.
"How long has it been like this?" He suddenly asked, his voice much more confident when her father was in the car because he knew Liana wouldn’t complicate the situation. Especially if she’s already in some kind of fight with her mother.
"Since the day we talked about London, probably. The day Li flew back to Stanford." If her father could, he would give Art her entire life story at any given moment. He really loved Art as if he were the son he never had.
Art started connecting the dots; That’s the reason she came to him as soon as she landed that day. That’s the reason she seemed so shaken, and that’s the reason he thought she had been crying. She and her mother fought that day.
A fight big enough not to speak again for months.
And instead of supporting her and insisting on knowing what happened, Art made that day even worse.
The thought that Patrick was going to erase him from her life sharpened at that moment. He knows Patrick would’ve read the situation better. He knows Patrick wouldn’t have acted the way he did that night.
Art knows Patrick is selfish in every aspect of his life, except for Liana.
While Art happens to be the most selfish when it comes to Liana.
Despite Art’s grandmother ruining all her birthdays throughout her life, Liana loved her as if she were her own grandmother.
That’s how she found herself in a car with Art Donaldson, on the way to her nursing home. Because she couldn’t leave the country without seeing her, and Art... well, he heard about it from his parents and said he would drive her because he also wanted to see his grandmother.
And once again, only Liana knew that Art was a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
"Are we really not going to talk the whole drive?" Art asked. He was dressed nicer than usual and smiling more than usual.
On another day, Liana would have found his smile charming, but the last two weeks at home had been filled with silent fights between her and her mother, who probably wouldn’t forgive her in her lifetime. Right now, Liana wanted to wipe the smug smile off Art's face with a slap. But she wasn’t a violent person, so she simply turned up the radio and looked out the window.
"Are you planning anything for your birthday?" Art asked, turning the radio back down to its original volume.
"Tell me, is this a mental illness? Are you bipolar or something?" she retorted, only causing his dimple to become more pronounced.
"These are really concerning mood swings, I recommend you check it out and really shut up for the rest of this trip that I don’t even know why you joined. You can visit your grandma literally any other day and not with me like a psychopath." She mumbled the last part, causing Art to chuckle.
"Is it amusing to you, Arthur?" she asked, genuinely unable to read the person in front of her. A person whom just a few months ago her instincts betrayed her and made her think she knew all about him.
"It amuses me that you're trying so hard to hate me, Li, instead of taking a moment and talking to me." He said with feigned calmness.
Art knew he was getting close to the point where Liana wouldn’t be able to resist and would just spill everything that was on her mind.
He knew that from the moment it happened, it would be easier for him to deal with her. He knew that from the moment she started showing him she was angry at him and not ignoring him as if he didn’t exist, he would be able to turn things back.
Maybe not to Christmas when she was completely his, but before, when she looked at him and really saw him. When she cared for him because he was sick. When she came to some of his practices. When she was an inseparable part of his day. If she'll leave when she was at that point again, maybe Patrick won’t be able to take over what remained of her feelings for him. Maybe he'd have a chance to be in her life.
"You’re delusional." She muttered, turning up the radio again.
"You look beautiful today. All this to impress my grandmother? You know she already loves you." He turned it down again, still amused.
Liana sighed and rolled her eyes.
This was going to be a very long drive.
"Jessica, you look amazing!" Liana said and hugged Art’s grandmother.
His heart filled in a way he didn’t know it could. How did he never notice? How did he not notice how much attention Liana paid to such an important figure in his life?
And so for a few hours, they sat and played cards and Scrabble with his grandmother and her two friends, and they listened to gossip about the seniors at the nursing home. Liana was so good. So attentive. So present.
"Lia," his grandmother started when the three of them were left alone, "at your wedding, I won't be there, but say a few words about me so that Art’s grandfather hears from his grave and gets jealous." She tossed it out casually.
As if everything in this scenario was self-evident; It was clear to her they would get married, it was clear to her she wouldn't be there, and it was clear to her that her deceased husband would hear.
Art chuckled quietly, watching Liana and seeing how red she was. Even her ears had changed color.
"Don’t worry, Grandma. We’ll talk about you the whole event." If he had been less smug about everything, he would have shut up. But he couldn’t stop himself. He had to see if he could make her blush even more. If there was another button he could press to make her release what she had against him, so eventually he could get back into her life.
"When Art gets married, Jessica, you’ll be there and hold his hand. And at my wedding, you’ll be the guest of honor." Liana said, trying to steady her voice. Art chuckled. The shameless bastard just chuckled.
The look Liana shot at him would have killed any sane person. But Art didn’t consider himself very sane at that moment, and certainly not someone who feared an angry look from Liana Levy.
"She’s dismissing you, Arthur. What are you doing about it?" His grandmother looked amused by Liana’s embarrassment and Art’s feigned indifference.
"Don’t worry, Grandma, I’m on it," he smiled and hugged her.
"Lia, promise me you’ll keep calling me even when you’re far away and fall in love in Europe," Jessica looked at her with a penetrating gaze.
"Yes, Lia, promise her." Art said, causing her to look at him for a moment. At this stage, he wasn’t sure he would survive the day, but it would probably be a sweet way to die.
"Jessica. If until now I’ve called once a week, without missing, nothing will change that." Liana hugged her again, and they moved towards the car.
"You're calling my grandma once a week?" Art didn’t know this. Why didn’t anyone tell him this? He wanted to scream.
Since they were kids, Art was sure he wanted to be much closer to Liana than she wanted to be. And that was fine, he got used to the piercing looks, sarcastic words, and eye rolls.
Stanford changed that. Stanford made them equals.
They saw each other in the same way. They wanted to be close in the same way. They were in each other’s space.
For him, Liana's change happened at Stanford. The change happened this year. And then he discovered things like this. He discovered that Liana was calling his dying grandma once a week and helping her pass the time.
"Can you fucking answer me?!" He raised his voice. He didn’t want to raise his voice. But his patience for the silent treatment, his punishment, had run out. He felt like a little boy who was told to stand in the corner for four months and expected not to explode.
"Arthur-" she sounded bored when he cut her off.
"Art." He said firmly and made a sharp U-turn on the highway, driving in the opposite direction of their home.
"What the fuck?! Art! Where are you going?" she asked, a bit scared by his change in approach. He didn’t answer her and continued driving until he stopped in a place empty of people, surrounded by sand with no building in sight.
"Where are we, Art?!" she asked for the umpteenth time.
Art got out of the car and closed his eyes, breathing heavily, hearing her get out too.
"I'm not joking with you. Take me home. Now!" She crossed her arms under her chest, and he approached her, invading her personal space.
Liana managed to see his eyes up close for the first time in months. They were filled with tears. Her initial instinct was to reach out a hand to his cheek, but she restrained herself from moving. Their breathing was heavy as they examined each other. Art's first tear fell on his cheek.
Every bone in Liana's body screamed at her to hug him.
Every internal and external limb of hers burned with the need to ease his pain. But she knew he didn’t deserve it. She knew that whatever was happening now, Art deserved to feel it.
"Please, Liana." He mumbled. His voice was broken.
This wasn’t how Art planned this day. He planned to dress nicely, drive to his grandma’s, remind Liana of all the things he was good at. Remind her that he was much more kind than he was mean.
Instead, he was crying.
Instead, he was looking at her and realizing that in a few days she would leave, and maybe he would never feel the same way for anyone else. Maybe he didn’t want to feel all these emotions for anyone else. Maybe only with Liana could he feel so much.
Art slowly dropped to his knees.
Not taking his eyes off Liana. Her breathing became even heavier, and her eyes filled with tears too.
She had never seen such a thing. A person willing in the middle of the street to drop to their knees before another person, while in tears.
"Art, get up..." she mumbled, wanting to look around to see that no one was coming, but afraid to take her eyes off the scene before her. Her instinct won this time, and she placed both her hands on the sides of his face, wiping away the endless tears, while Art, like an addict to the feeling, leaned into the warm and gentle touch with his eyes closed.
"Do you even know what you did to me?" she asked, and he opened his eyes, looking at her with longing. With a desire to absorb everything she had to say to him.
"You ruined me, Art Donaldson. You broke me." She said, and he stood up slowly.
"I'm sorr-" he started, and her hand found his cheek with force. Liana wasn’t a violent person. Liana is not a violent person.
"You have no right to ask for forgiveness." She stated. "That was the first time I slept with someone, Art." Her voice sounded like the cry of a wounded animal.
"Did you think about what such a formative experience would do to my sex life? Did you think about the trust issues I would have? That I would never be able to trust anyone like I trusted you?" She cried so hard she couldn’t resist his embrace while his crying intensified.
"I will never be able to behave the way I behaved with you. You used me to get back at Patrick. You used me to win a competition only you participated in." She pushed him a bit away from her, and they stood facing each other again, both trying to breathe.
After a few minutes of this, silence and piercing looks, Art dropped to his knees again, and Liana looked everywhere but at him.
With the last of her strength, she tried to resist the magnetic pull Art Donaldson has on her.
"Li, look at me." His broken voice commanded her without commanding, he couldn’t command anything for anyone. He was on his knees for her.
"You're pathetic." She said. Without blinking. She never talked like that to anyone.
All he could do was nod and hug her leg while she looked up at the sky, again with tears in her eyes, running a finger through one of his curls.
"I will be good. I promise." He said what he demanded from her every time they were intimate with each other. Their gazes crossed once more, "I will be good even when you’re not here. I will be good for you."
HEYYYYYYYYY
How are we doing with that gap of 2 days? I hope it was worth the wait.
I hope that you're not getting tired of this story yet 'cause I'm still obsessed with them all, but I don't want you guys to feel like I'm dragging the entire thing.
Patrick and Liana are going to London in the next part. Who's excited???
You're always welcome to the comments or the ask box and have a chat with me.
also, taglist is open if you want :)
taglist:
@marley1773 @ruyaas-world @apolloscastellan @primlovesdilfs @fangirl-kimora @serenadingtigers @imbabycowboy @do-it-for-kicks @izzywags478 @4deline08 @igotmajordaddyissues @jackierose902109 @ganana @yoitsme-04 @swetearss
#art donaldson x reader#patrick zweig x reader#art donaldson#patrick zweig#challengers fic#the time of our lives
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Starting over In Madrid
Chapter 7 : In the haze
tw : may content explicit sex, +18
Misa Rodriguez x Reader (Nicky/first person)
Chapter 1 ➤ A harder job than I thought
Chapter 2 ➤ Clearly on a bad slope
Chapter 3 ➤ Calmly panicking
Chapter 4 ➤ Hell Clasico
Chapter 5 ➤ Valleys and peaks
Chapter 6 ➤ Paris est magique!
✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧
I woke up at the sound of a particularly loud rumbling motor on the street. My eyes felt puffy. I blinked several times, a bit dazed by the soft light filtering in the unfamiliar room. The first thing I noticed was the tan and tattooed arm laying across my torso, the hand at the end completely limp. My gaze tracked back to the silhouette of a young brunette fast asleep next to me. Her broad and muscular back emerged from the white bedsheets, slowly rising up and down with every breath.
The woman face was turned to the side and pressed comfortably against the pillow. I peered at the profil detaching nicely, close to me, tracing her features: her forehead, her thick brow, still looking a bit furrowed even when she was sleeping, her closed almond eye, I imagined the soft and warm look behind the lead, the bridge of her nose, the small gold ring on her nostril, the tip of it almost brushing my shoulder. My gaze went down to her lips, full, barely parted, all her muscles totally relaxed, to her chin half buried into the comfy pillow.
I resisted the urge of kissing the cute face of Misa, not willing to wake her yet, and I just stay looking at her as something warm and light fluttered in my stomach. I couldn’t believed she was there, next to me, her arm making sure I was still close as she slept.
The warm wings in my guts reached my throat, my eyes prickled when the surge of emotions begun to choke me softy. I sighed, and breathed out, fighting again the need to take her in my arms to hold her tight. But she seemed so peaceful, I couldn’t bring myself to end the sleep she needed so much. I, myself, had had a pretty bad sleep because she had snored nearly all night. But I couldn’t blame her when I wouldn't be anywhere else right now.
I realized with a jolt I did’t even know what time it was in morning. We were still in the Parisian hotel and we had to leave to room at 11’. The sun seemed to push behind the curtains. Had we overslept? Neither Misa or I had thought about setting an alarm.
With the most care I grabbed my phone on the bedside table and turned on the screen. 9’50. Phew ! We still had time to get ready and plan something for Misa to get her stuff. The goalie shifted beside me. I put my phone back on the stool and turned to her. Misa smiled shyly and came closer, her arm still around my waist. I felt the warm blowing of her breath on my neck as she settled herself back to sleep.
I bit back a whine of emotion and rested my mouth on her forehead, inhaling the smell of her hair and cuddling her gently, "Misa, we have to wake up…".
"Dormir mas… porfi…" she grunted against me, her slippy voice was a bit higher pitched.
"We have to leave the room soon." I kept stroking her long hair and kissed her forehead. She grunted and squeezed me again. I ran my mouth on her temple to her cheekbone, laying kisses here and there. Misa began to stir again. When I reached her mouth, the goalkeeper awoke more at the wet contact.
"Humm" she pulled away, rolled on her back and stretched with a yawn, her bare breast emerging from the bedsheets, sending an instant throbbing in my lower body.
She grabbed her phone, scrolled and typed a moment. Her naked body and laid back attitude was beginning to aroused me and I looked away.
"Hayley says hi and hope we had a good night" she told me after a few minutes. I snorted. "Did you sleep well ?" she added.
"Yeah, alright" I said without belief and avoiding to look at her.
"Que passa ? Oh… did I snored ?" she asked with an apologizing look.
I frowned and nodded, apologizing as well for letting her know.
"Perdon Nicky, I know I do, my teammates avoid sharing a room with me when they can."
"That's not a good enough reason not to have you in my bed." I said with a guilty smile. She laughed and dropped her phone.
She swiftly came over me and without warning she kissed me with an intensity I had not foreseen. Her tongue pushed its way inside my mouth, pressing and turning with mine. I moaned, instantly worked up by everything she was doing crashing on my body still numbed with sleep. Her heated kiss, her bare skin brushing against mine, our chests touching, her traveling hands on my sides, her tight between my tights made my head span. The goalkeeper had let me lead the dance last night and wanted her revenge. Obviously, she had planned to make me loose my mind.
Her kisses descended on my neck and I grasped her face, fighting hard to stay sensible. "Misa ! We don’t have time !". The naughty look she gave me back accentuate the throbbing between my legs.
"It can be quick… but I better get to it then", she whispered in my ear before nipping the skin below. I blushed and gasped, out of arguments. My own body had already given up when she reached my breast.
She licked each of my nipples. After sending them hardening, she applied to suck and bit slowly, letting out low noises, clearly enjoying her work on my chest. The moans escaping my mouth became louder with the increasing sensibility. "Keep quiet Nicky, nobody’s sleeping now." Her authoritarian tone excited me more and I placed my forearm on my mouth.
Misa’s tongue went to my stomach, kissing my ribs, making me shiver, licking her way to my pelvis. I was panting with the more and more difficulties I had to remain silent.
My hips began to stir as the goalkeeper settle herself between my spread legs. I rubbed my face and glanced at the woman ready to send me on an other planet. She locked her dark eyes with me, ensnared each oh my tight and drag me down to her mouth in a swift move. I whined in surprise as I felt her tongue between my legs at once. My body was stretched out at full length, my head falling back on the mattress and arms sled upward, increasing the intensity of the sensations.
I couldn’t hold the first whimper when she began to lick me slowly. Her tongue was so precise, the pressure perfect, I quickly put back my palm on my mouth. The muffled cry I let out against it would had been heard on the adjoining floors when she added her fingers, sliding them from up to down to go with her mouth. I grasped hard the bedsheets, trying to stay as quiet as I could while pleasure washed over me wave after wave.
When she pushed her fingers near my entrance I thought I was loosing my breath, and she led them inside, just to curl them without moving more. My feet dragged on the sheets, fighting to get a rest, trying to escape her saturating touch.
Misa kept on doing wonderful things on my core, sending my thighs to tremble. They froze as I felt my orgasm building at an incredible speed. It was too much, too intense, too hard not to moan, to shout, to cry her name. I was going to explode.
The restraint and the liberation melted in a second and sent me silently over the edge but with a force that had my body shaking uncontrollably.
Misa was at my side at once, enfolding and covering me with light kisses. I snuggled in her arms, still regaining my breath, breathing the smell of sex and sweat on her skin. "Misa", I whispered and felt her embraced tighten around me. I had lost the track of time, lost in the feeling of her, blending with enjoyment.
"I’m going to shower" she said after a moment and got up gently. I stretched across the bed, still relishing on the pleasure fading feel, watching Misa checking her phone again. "Quinze minutos !" she boast and flexed her muscles with mischievous eyes.
"Happy with your performance Misa Rodriguez ? One gold medal isn’t enough for you ?" I joked, dragging myself at the edge of the bed toward her.
She crouched in front of me. "Never enough ! Did I won it ?"
I brushed her lips with my finger "Hum… I’m not giving it to you yet, it would be to easy".
She snorted and pressed her mouth on mine. "I take the challenge. You come to shower with me ?".
"I’d love to but I’m a weak women and we’re really running out of time".
"It’s probably wiser", the brunette winked, got up and collected her clothes on the floor before disappearing in the bathroom.
***
I was back in Madrid for three days off now and I could only think about when I could see her again. By see her, I mostly meant hook up again. Far from releasing me, sleeping with Misa had me completely mad about her. I dreamt to hear her soft voice whispering naughty words in my ear, to contemplate her from head to toes lying naked on a sofa, a bed or whatever she’d be comfortable on, to smell the perfume of her skin when I closed my eyes, to shiver under her hands brushing my flanks and grasping at anything they could. But most of all, I was dying to touch her again, to find what she would like best, to hear her sight in delight and to hold her tight when she’d be lost in pleasure.
The truth was I was feeling like a teenager discovering the wonders of intimacy. Nobody had ever made me feel like Misa did. She was so intense, so complete, soft and caring as well as fierce and strong but also goofy and insecure, all of this wrapped up in the most gorgeous women I had ever hooked up with. With Misa on my mind all the time, I was failing miserably at being back to my daily solitary life.
The goalie and I had exchanged a few texts since Paris and she had offered to honor her promice to teach me football. We had agree to meet tomorrow afternoon at a local stadium in the north of Madrid, the sciudad being a far too risky place, and I had tried to occupied myself since then.
I had a few walks in the city to resume my personal practice of photography. I had always loved to be able to do some work on my own and I like urban photography so Madrid’s uneven rooftops and swarming streets had been a good playground. I had been rather happy with some of the shots, so I had settled in comfy coffee shop in my neighborhood to call Angela. She had wanted to know every details of my trip in Paris, particularly please by the concretization of the ending she had been expected. Having Angela on my side alleviated the stress I felt breaking the rules of my employment contract. She kept saying none of it made sense and so was I when the prospect of being with her was enhancing everything in my life. At the time, it was the thought of our football lesson that was filling me with a peaceful excitement.
***
The sun was still high on the dying afternoon of that early summer day when I arrived at the stadium, fully dress in a Real Madrid training kit, a sport bag on the shoulder. I searched for Misa on the empty parking and I saw her grey car approaching the entrance. She parked right in front of me, waving hi through the windscreen as she turned off the engine. All of sudden, I felt nervous and eager to see her again.
She exited the vehicle, sun rays soaking her head and dazzling her when she straighten up. A broad smile flashed as she came toward me "Hola Nicky! Como estas? Ready to suffer?"
"Hey Misa, muy bien y tu? Hang on, when did suffering become part of the plan?" I protested but her mocking tone had relaxed me at once.
The footballer came closer "I’m going to turn you into the new football star, of course you’re going to suffer! You behave and I’ll be nice" she joked, a glint in her eyes. She was really excited to share her passion and I, myself, was already dying to kiss her.
"I’m not scared of you, you know?" I said lifting my chin and puffing my chest. Misa stopped smiling and frowned, hard, looking at me straight in the eyes. "Ok ! Ok ! I’m a bit afraid of that Misa, the one on the pitch!" Like now, she was very intimidating when she was playing.
The goalkeeper bursted in laugh, "Funciona todo el tiempo! Come on let’s get started", and she invited me to follow her.
We walked to the middle of the pitch. I had put on the smaller football cleats Misa had borrowed and was trying to get used to grip the grass with every step. The goalie was running ahead of me, easily pushing the ball at her feet and dancing with it in a sequence of various rebounds. Her all body was moving so confidently like she felt at home on every football pitches.
"Ok Nicky, we’ll start with controls and passes", she said once we faced each other at the lawn center. "When I send it to you, you block it with the inner side of your foot. Ok?" I nodded. Misa pushed the ball rolling toward me and I angled my foot like she explained. The ball bumped against it and stopped.
"Valé, now push it back to me and I’ll pass it to you and you to me and on and on."
"Got it!" I kicked the ball back to Misa and we exchanged a few passes until I inevitably missed one.
She chuckled "Bueno Nicky that’s it! Now, I’ll teach you how to run with the ball. Come with me".
She demonstrated it, explaining I had to push the ball with the tips of my feet while running. That seemed more difficult to me, but even knowing I had no chance to impress Misa, I was bound to give it a try to the least.
I started to run and immediately had trouble with directions, always kicking too much on the right or left and often breaking the run, instead of sending the ball straight forward.
"Vamos Nicky! Go again until you reach to goal." Misa clapped her hands encouragingly while walking at my sides. I kept on trying but it was laborious and was not used to the cleats and the way the ball rebounded on the shoes yet. I managed to get to the end of pitch zigzagging randomly, and laughing out loud at my poor skills.
"Concentrate!", Misa shouted as I stopped in front of the cage, panting slightly.
"Damned! I really have no gift for this", I said, ashamed. I felt ridiculous to be taught by her.
The goalkeeper grasped my hand. "It’s not about a gift, you just have to focus and practice… a lot", she broke a smile and kissed me on the cheek. "Let’s move on to striking", she said when my thoughts weren’t about football anymore, my cheek hot where her lips had touched.
Misa settled in front of the ball, "All you have to do is kick as hard as you can". She stepped back, ran, armed her leg and shoot the ball to the middle of the net. I applauded, genuinely impressed by her strength even after having seen her play countless times. Misa throw the ball back to me in one agile move.
I readied myself and kicked as hard as I could in a very approximative movement. I was in the penalty area, moreover very close to the goal, but I was satisfied to see the ball enter the cage anyway. "Pero bueno!", Misa congratulated me and send the ball back to me one more time. I enjoyed shooting at it again and again far more that running and controlling.
After a dozens of shots or so, the goalkeeper took her place in front of me and made me move back from the cage, indicating I aim anywhere but at her. With Misa in my sight, it was harder to concentrate. My gaze was irresistibly attracted by her tanned legs and arms, my stomach warming at the soft but serious expression she had when she advised me.
"Nicky! I said don’t shoot at me, right?", she warned when my eyes lasted on her silhouette.
"Yes, yes !", I answered, refocusing on the exercise.
The first attempts were catastrophic with me missing the frame on either sides. Misa made me try until I succeeded at least to put the ball both in the cage and not directly at her but I was becoming frustrating as I kept failing to send it exactly were I wanted and mostly relaying on chance.
"Aim here ! Open your foot more. Focus on your destination!"
"But I am focusing!", I responded and kicked angrily at the ball. To my surprise, the kick was strong and swift, but directly at Misa. The goalkeeper reflexes peeped out, her bare fists shielding her and propelling the ball back hard on the my stomach. The air was drove out of me as pain, not very intense but enough to make me cowered on myself, throbbed in my ribs.
"Oh no ! Nicky you alright ?" I scented the sweet and floral perfume around me.
"You… you just took my breath away, but not the way you usually do!" I croaked and a flattered and embarrassed mixed expression showed on the goalkeeper’s face.
"Tsss Chica ! Lay down a moment".
Once I was down on the grass, Misa sat beside me and checked my belly, passing and pressing her palm across it. "Do it hurt here ?" she asked while applying a light pressure on my ribs". I shook my head. "I think you’ll be ok. I’m sorry but you got me surprised and I didn’t have my gloves on. That kick was actually very good!"
"Kicking hard is the only thing I don’t suck at…" I chuckled and straitened up, leaning toward the goalkeeper.
"Lo siento, you’ll have to work really hard to be next estrella del futbol. You have no more gift for it that I have for photography, Cariño", Misa said, patting my tight.
I opened my mouth wide, outraged, of part of my brain registering she’d just called me dear, when Misa pulled me, my back to her front, in a very sweet embrace. She kissed my cheek again and I felt dazed. "Tsss! I’m vexed by the fact that you seemed really vexed by the comparison!", she added, laughing frankly before faking to pout.
I chortled, not knowing what to say. I turned to her and put my palm on her face. "Er… We’ll have you try naturalistic photography soon, I promise!"
"I’m not sure I want teacher Nicky back, she’s too bossy and narrow minded". She leant her mouth toward mine and stopped at the last moment. "I mean, I don’t want only the teacher part", and we kissed finally. How much I had missed her lips… But shortly, she held back and spoke with strange tone "Misa, your picture is ugly! You’re lazy Misa, you're not working enough because you don’t really like photography!", she mimicked me with a hight pitch voice that I hoped had nothing to do with mine.
I pulled back from her arms to sulk at the bad imitation. "You didn’t seemed to be bothered to be grounded at the museum last time", I retorted.
"La verdad es I wanted to kiss you to shut you up that day !" her words and the light chuckle she blowed on my mouth made me want her badly and I tried hard to dismiss the thought of pushing her on the grass to have her now, in the middle of the desert stadium.
"Mean girl", I said but went close again to relished on her smell and on the warmth of her neck between my hands.
Misa pulled back to speak again, an int of shyness lingering behind the warm notes of her voice "Do you want to come to my place after?"
I couldn’t suppress a gasp before composing a more relaxed face and taking a casual tone, far away from the real burning mess I was becoming inside. "Yeah sure, I’d love to see your home".
I melted back in her embrace a moment, the sun had lowered but was still hot on our skin.
Misa drove us back to her apartment near the stadium in a couple of minutes. I was really excited to discover her place and therefore more of her. We took the lift, the goalkeeper and I got off at the seventh floor, the women pulling out her keys and opening the door on the left.
"After you", she said in a courteous manner and I stepped in. The entrance was wide, between bare and crowded, a white wall totally empty when the other bore many beach style panels and a tall mirror. I heard the door closing behind. "Bienvenida a casa, Nicky", the brunette said happily, "Want me to make a visit?". I approved and followed her.
We stepped into the living, roomy and comfy with an American kitchen and a very large sofa. Wide windows revealed a spacious terrace where I noticed a lounge chair.
"So this is how you’re always so tanned", I said pointing at it.
"You know I’m from Canaria, I can’t live without a sunny spot. I hate winter here…"
As if to illustrate her words, I turned around to see a big Canarian flag on the wall near the kitchen. They were many others decorations in the room, Real Madrid items, framed photos, trophies and medals, music posters…, but like in the hall unevenly distributed and hung randomly on the walls. It was like she had thought about each details but in a messy way. I found it cute.
The bedroom was just the same but messier, the bed looking inviting and soft, a colorful surfboard hanging above the headboard, stuff, folded clothes and probably sport related items covered the furniture.
We ended the visit by another smaller room dedicated to Misa’s training and came back in the living.
"Your place is nice Misa, it looks like you", I said and she smiled wide.
"I’m glad you like it. Now, shower or dinner ?", she asked.
I realized my belly was rumbling with hunger. The sun was setting, it was time to eat, even in Spain. "Dinner please, football lesson got me starving!"
Misa went in the kitchen and opened the fridge. "I have a rest of a paella I ordered yesterday. They gave me for four to the least ! Bueno para ti ?"
"Valé perfecto! Gracias."
We dressed the table and sat down to eat. The food was delicious and the casual chatting coming along even more. My insides felt light. It was good to share this daily moment with someone. Misa made more jokes about our teaching and learning abilities, having me laughing hard. Then, she talked about her arrival in the peninsula at an early age and the hard time she had to get used to be away from her family and to live on her own. My chest tightened as I realized how attached I was becoming to Misa. It scared me all of a sudden and I buried myself in a glass of water, swallowing slowly as I listened to her.
However, the women facing me figured something was going on and put her hand on mine across the table. "Are you ok ?" she asked, a int of worry in her voice.
I looked at her large tan hand on mine, its contact soothing. I smiled, interlacing our fingers while I exhaled deeply. "Actually, I’m better than ok. I’m really happy to be here".
"Me alegro que estés aquí también" she replied, her face so kind I could cry.
We finished the dish more quietly and Misa excused herself for not having any dessert to offer me. She explained she ate nothing containing too much sugar or on really exceptional circumstances. Being an athlete wasn’t easy on a daily basis. She admitted it was a sacrifice for the sweet tooth she was.
"I promise I’ll get rid of all the sweets and chocolates I have at my home before you’ll come", I told her, sneaking an invitation in the same time.
"Leave just one chocolate out of it, please !" Misa begged, bitting her lips and at the bait.
Then, she cleared the table, humming absentmindedly a song when she went to arrange the kitchen. "Nicky, go ahead in the shower, I’ll join you in a minute. Bathroom is next bedroom", she dropped with the most ease.
I wasn't going to be asked twice, I went the small room, taking off my cloth quickly and entering the rather spacious shower cabin that was only separated by a thick glass.
The jet turned on and the temperature adjusted, I stepped into the hot pouring water with delight and let it melt my anxiety and tiredness away. Drops crashed on my face, soaking my hair. I closed my eyes to focus on the sound of it. Deep inside, I was still trying to register what was going on in my life. I had broken the rules by sleeping with the Real Madrid goalkeeper, I was at her home, in her shower, waiting for her. And everything felt surreal. Something like that couldn’t be happening to me.
My deep breath came out in a rasp. I open my eyes again. I was actually there, in an unknown shower peering at a rang of shampoo bottles. It was real, everything was.
Smiling vaguely, I stepped out of the water, selected a vanilla shower gel from Misa’s products and put some on my palm to lather on my skin. Through the glass studded with droplets, I saw the door opening and the blurry shape of the goalie completely naked entering the bathroom. She pushed the cabin door and came inside, her loose long hair partially hiding her chest.
"Hola" she said brushing past me to go to the shower jet, her cheeks more pinky than when I left her. Misa settled under the hot water, rubbing her skin and waving her hair to get wet, eyes shut tight and mouth spitting as the drops streamed down her face. This was one of the most erotic vision I’d ever seen. Unable to tear my eyes away from the scene in front of me, I continued to wash, watching her body getting drenched, hypnotized by gleaming shape of her muscles under the celling light. My eyes lingered on the dark triangle between her legs, passing over her peaked and dripping nipples, to rest on her lips.
I was clearly becoming obsessed with Misa’s mouth. It called me and I rejoined her under the water, my skin covered with foam. The goalkeeper drenched hair were splattered her broad shoulders. She sense me close, her wet cheeks still looked blushed when she glanced at me through the pouring water. Her eyelashes were loaded and packed with wetness, drops falling from her nose and lips.
I pressed my body against hers, my soapy front slipped lasciviously on her skin. Misa opened her mouth to sight, wrapping my neck with her arms and pressing more, and I peered at her with pure lust.
My hand descended on her butt, a low groan of satisfaction escaped my mouth when my fingers sunk in the soft flesh, before I crashed my lips on Misa’s. We kissed roughly, whining, trickles infiltrating between our lips. The diluted taste of her was almost fleshy, awaking something bestial. I pushed my tongue further and the goalkeeper ensnared my head to depend our kiss even more. My fingers grasped tighter her wet bottom as our hips began to wiggle in anticipation. I was so ready for us to just fuck properly, without holding back, as we where not in a hotel with the rest of the team anymore.
Steam from the hot water was filling the cabin with a foggy atmosphere. I ran a hand to her neck and down her front. Misa mirrored me, our fingers meeting at belly level, briefly intertwining, until we slipped them down between each other’s legs. The soft and simultaneous movements on our cores drove me mad. Her tongue and lips kept pressing, demanding while her fingers rubbed more abruptly. I yelped, pleased, so pleased to feel her when she was feeling me.
She pushed her way inside gently. Thrilled, my lips slowed down against her mouth. It was my turn to imitate her, wetness and water allowing to sink my fingers quickly to harvest a low moan from her. A haze enveloped our interlacing bodies, steam clenching to our burning skins as we continue to fill each other, the shower enhancing all the sensations.
Gradually, I quickened the pace and Misa’s mouth dropped open, not responding to my kisses anymore. Her touching slackened as my fingers rocked rhythmically, my other hand finding her breast and rubbing her nipple. The goalie’s fingers stopped moving with her breathy cries getting louder.
She leant her back against the shower wall, the water raining less directly on us revealing our reddenned skins dotted with drops. The new angle allowed me to go deeper inside of her. Misa moaned, whomped, and abandoned her touching on me, her wet lips opening more as my thrust inside and out continued, my teeth finding her neck and bitting the damp and hot skin.
"Más rapido…" I heard her demand and I went back to her face, boring my eyes into hers and crashing on her lips again. I sized her tight, raised it to spread her legs more. The goalkeeper clung at my neck as I buried back my fingers deep, pace fast. The smell of sex spread all around, the taste of her mouth, barely able to keep on kissing, was strong and magnetic. Misa’s breathing became erratical, jerky, whiny. "Más! Don’t stop…", she panted, head falling backward against the tiles and I flexed my legs a little to fuck her whole. I was in a haze, in a cloud, in the sky, feeling her tightening around me, feeling myself dripping not only of water as my own excitation reached a peak.
"Don’t… st.." the end of the word was lost in a cry, Misa’s head felt over my shoulder, her body half collapsing against me as the spasms in her belly rippled on my skin. My fingers accompanied her orgasm on her core, snatching more shouts from her. She clung hard at my neck to keep standing and I hold her tight.
Her hand fell over mine to signal me to stop, witch I seized and unceremoniously pressed hard between my own legs, having Misa to groan in surprise. The pressure relieved me at once, her fingers instantly caressing the sensitive area.
The goalie flipped my body, back to her front, and slide her fingers through my intimacy again. She hungrily kissed my neck, her other hand running on the inside of my thighs to spread them further.
She switched hands, the one that used to caress me crept between our bodies, sliding down my butt to touch my entrance from the back. "Fuck!" I led out at the simultaneous touch of both of her hands on me and I felt getting wetter even with the shower washing down my fluids.
I arched, so ready to welcome her inside and Misa stopped touching my core to make me lean forward. Warm water splattered on my exposed back. The pace she set was slow and thorough. My legs already felt weak, pleasure relaxing the muscles and swelling my lower body. I bent over and clung at the shower tap when Misa’s moves quickened. "Misa… fuck", I whined.
I winced as she added an other finger to stretch me deliciously. "Ow, fuck!", I repeated. The goalkeeper bent over me as well, her waist rhythmically pushing against my butt. "Hum, sì… fuck!", she groaned, squeezing my hanging chest. The swelling in my stomach expanded and sent ripples of enjoyment.
I yelled and swore again when she put the fingers of her other hand back on my core while she was still filling me, fast and roughly. It only took a few more seconds before I felt the liquid warmth dissolved inside of me, she goalkeeper straitening me and holding me tight against her for me not to fall as the intense feel lasted.
Misa flipped me over again to face her, hugging me hard and kissing the corner of my hanging mouth. I brushed my nose against her, breathing in her scent, feeling completely out of this world. "Fuck Misa, I’ll never have enough of this…", I dropped and saw the goalkeeper lips stretch. "Yo también Cari", she whispered, her kisses demanding again.
This women is going to be my downfall, I thought, back at kissing her tenderly, before I crouched between her legs and buried my mouth in her pelvis, her cries filling me up with new energy.
***
A gentle stroking pulled me out of sleep and I found myself staring at an unfamiliar celling, hidden shortly by the face of the goalkeeper overlooking. Misa nose nuzzled my cheek and I rolled toward her, searching her warm body, but found myself at the edge of the bed.
I shook my head to awake properly. The brunette was kneeing at bedside, fully dressed, her hair neatly tied back in a ponytail. I made a frustrated sound followed by an interrogating one.
"I’m going to the gym. You can stay there and go back to sleep, I’ll be back in an hour and a half max."
"Oh ok, you already ate?", I asked in a pasty voice.
"I never take breakfast but I got some bread and jam for you. It’s on the kitchen’s bar", she chuckled at my surprised expression and try to stand, but I hold her back, just wanting to breathe in her scent a little longer. "Thanks for the bread. Train well", I said before I let her go, snatching a kiss on her lips passing by.
I sat at the kitchen table, devouring my toasts with a large coffee when Angela called.
"Hey Angie ! You’re good?"
"Hey ! All good and you Nicky ? I hope I'm not disturbing you ?"
"Not at all, I’m having breakfast, go ahead, what’s up ?"
"I have a few days of leave to take and I wondered if I could come to see you in Madrid ?"
I nearly jumped off the chair. "You’re kidding! Of course! Come whenever you like!", I said, a large smile spreading.
"Great! I can’t wait to see you Nicky! It’s been so long… I think I’ll come at the end of the month, something like that. Now tell me, how’s it going with your goalie?"
"Well, I’m in her kitchen right now while she’s at the gym. So, I’d say it’s going well", I sighted with ease.
"Wow, she’s already invite you to her place, well done. Hang on… what was that sight I just heard?"
"Nothing, I’m feeling great that’s all. Misa’s very sweet and, you know… it feels good to care for someone again."
Angela pause a moment. "Oh no Nicky…"
"What ?"
"Don’t tell me you’ve fallen for her for real ?"
"What do you mean ? Of course I’m into her!" I wasn’t getting Angela’s point.
She paused again, and I took a sip of my coffee, waiting.
"Nicky, are you in love with her ?", she asked and I barely missed to spill my mug as I half choked myself with the hot liquid. "Oh god, I’m right then ?", she added when she heard me caught.
I gathered myself, feeling my heart beat faster, letting silence stretch while I was looking for what to say when her name kept ranging in my head, clouding my mind completely. There was no way I was going to be able to lie, even to myself.
"Er… I think… I think I do…", the confession overwhelmed me as I finally spoke.
"Ohhh Nicky ! I thought you two were mostly about hooking up. That changes things a bit…"
"Hum, what’s the difference between fuck bodies and lovers ? With the fucking clause, both have to stay hidden anyway so…"
"True but… What about her, do you think she does too ?"
I took a moment to think about it, recalling the way she behaved when she was with me. My eyes rested on my half eaten toast. "I guess she likes me enough to spend the night and some of her spare time with me. And she can be thoughtful, like I said."
"Ok, sound like a good start. Will I meet her when I come ?"
I almost strangled myself again, imagining introducing Misa to Angela as my girlfriend. My heart tightened at the thought. My Misa. If only she could be my Misa by the time my best friend would visit…
"Er, yes I’ll try to set up something", I said. "Can I call you back latter, I think Misa’s returning from the gym?" I lied because I felt I needed a moment on my own before the actual return of the goalie.
"Of course, take care Nicky. Bye."
"You too. Bye Angie. Can’t wait!"
I hung up, silence pressing at once. Angela had me realize I had fallen deep for the goalkeeper, lowering my defenses so fast and letting my emotions escape recklessly. After my previous relationship and its abrupt ending, I had thought I’d be more careful with who could gain my confidence, but I was amazed by how little control I had above my feelings, especially toward pretty women.
I finished my breakfast confused. Did I know Misa enough to trust her ? I was taking a huge risk by being with her but she had protected our secret conscientiously and seemed to be willing to live whatever we were building together. When I thought about it, I couldn't bring myself to doubt the sincerity of the goalkeeper.
I was lying in the sofa, the morning sun almost completely gone from the room when Misa came back. She entered, earphones on and scrolling her phone. She was still in a training kit, wearing her hair in a loose bun. I greeted her and she glanced quickly at me before focusing back on the screen, having me feeling annoyed by her sudden total lack of attention. Had I been wrong about her ?
Misa pulled off her earphones and some raggaton music filled the room. She dropped her phone on the bar, living it to play the song out loud, then she came to me, feeling the beat, grabbed my hands and heaved me to my feet to draw me into her dance in the middle of her living room. My guts unravelled at the contact with her body moving madly. She began to sing over the music, rather badly, her voice soft and slender but so cute and my guts tightened again.
I melted at Misa's loud dancing, Misa’s mischievous smile, Misa’s goofy manners, Misa’s soft and warm gaze.
I was in a haze again, Misa's haze.
I had no doubt left. I was in love with Misa Rodriguez.
✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧
#woso#woso community#woso imagine#misa rodriguez#woso x reader#woso fanfics#misa rodriguez x reader#fanfic#x reader#writers on tumblr#writerscommunity#writing#misa x reader#x original character#x oc#x female reader#misa rodriguez x oc#woso blurbs#woso smut#futbolista#spain wnt#espwnt#futfem#fanfic art#misa rodriguez fanfic#woso soccer
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Hey bestie! I love your works! I was wondering maybe you could write a fic where Emily is cockwarming Aaron while he’s cleaning his gun and she cums very quick because it’s too sexy for her ☺️
A/N: I’ll give an extra warning for this chapter, it contains gun kink, you have been warned!
I would also like to add that I wrote most of this either on the way to or from @sequinsmile-x, as well as in her apartment.
Title: Love like mine (3/11)
Chapter title: But don’t worry I’ll make sure you don’t forget it
Summary: He wasn’t a cheater. Until her.
Word count: 3,7k
Rating: Explicit
Warnings (for this chapter): Smut, cock warming, gun kink, dirty talk, cheating, hinting at abortion
They spend the day mostly naked, starting off with breakfast until Emily casually strips herself from his shirt and he ends up taking her on her dining room table. It’s hours spent together in between sex and jokes and conversation and Emily finds herself liking the way he’s relaxing in her company, the difference between Aaron and Hotch slowly sneaking through in a way he hadn’t let it before.
He’s funny, a dry sense of humor that she finds that she enjoys and she can tell that he likes the way she challenges him. It had been part of his attraction to her from the start, the fact that he can’t really figure her out.
“Where did you get this?” He asks as he traces the tattoo on her hipbone, faded and old on her skin.
“In Italy.” She doesn’t want to tell him the whole story, doesn’t want him to tell him that after one of the worst experiences of her life she wanted something beautiful to come from it. The daffodil tattoo that she at 15 thought was a good idea, the flower meaning change and new beginnings, something she now rarely paid much attention to. “It was a new start for me.” She tells him simply and he seems to understand that she doesn’t want to talk about it.
“It’s pretty.” He says instead and kisses her hipbone before moving slowly up her body, his tongue tasting her skin until he’s face to face with her. “Like you.”
“You’re not so bad yourself.” She smiles into a kiss and when she hears his sated groan she can’t help the way satisfaction tingles down her spine. She knew he wasn’t hers, she knew that part of why she was attracted to him was because he was taken. Him being married meant that she was safe. She wouldn’t get hurt this way, and that was comforting.
Aaron tries not to think about the repercussions of what they were doing, how this could end. He didn’t want to leave Haley, didn’t really know what he was doing spending his weekend with another woman. But as Emily moaned his name in his ear, he didn’t want to stop.
He gets home early on Sunday morning to an empty house and he tries to ignore the guilt that’s creeping up his spine. He had spent the entire weekend with Emily, his mistress, and the thought of Haley had barely crossed his mind. The clothes he wears smell like her and he quickly puts them in the washing machine, needing to hide every trace of Emily before Haley walks through their front door with his son.
It’s wrong, so wrong, this wasn’t the man he had imagined himself to be. But Emily was addictive, something he hadn’t known he needed but now didn’t know how to be without. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knows that he should come clean, that doing this to Haley was close to evil. But he loved his wife, loved the life they had built and he didn’t want to give that up.
He realizes that it can’t last, not in the long run but then dark eyes and a teasing smile flashes in his mind and for some reason he finds that he’s not ready to give her up.
Being with Emily was something new, something he’d never had before, pleasures and urges he had always forced deep down finally seeming to have room to breathe. She didn’t judge him for wanting what he did, in fact, she seemed to revel in it. Reveled in the way he let go like he hadn’t before, seemed to love the power it gave her.
He hears Haley call for him just as he’s getting out of the shower, only minutes after he had washed the sin off his skin.
“Hi honey.” She greets him with a soft kiss and a smile, gentle and loving and home and he kisses her back. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too.” He tells her, the lie sliding off his tongue almost too easily as he takes Jack from her, the toddler babbling happily in his arms. “How were your parents?”
“They’re good. Maybe next time you can come too.” Haley watches as he tickles Jack with a fond smile. She wasn’t an idiot, she knew something had changed between them in the last few months, knew that he was hiding something from her but as she stood there in the home where they had picked out the color of the wallpaper and argued about what couch to buy and listened to the sounds of their sons laugh, she forced those thoughts away.
*
“Is this a bad time?” She knocks on his office door and lingers in the doorway. It’s late, everyone’s gone home and she had every intention to do the same, but then he had given her that look, the look that meant he wanted her to stay late. So she had told a lie to Derek and JJ when they asked why she didn’t go home, blaming paperwork that she didn’t actually have but it seemed to be enough for them to leave the office.
It had been a strange day, a restlessness in her that she wasn’t sure where it came from. She needed something, but didn’t know what. Felt the need for something thrilling, for the restlessness to go away. She must have walked into his office right as he was about to clean his gun, the weapon disassembled on his desk and for some reason her eyes fastens on it.
“Not at all.” He said as he stood from behind his desk. He looked through the window and saw that the bullpen was empty and he closed the blinds swiftly. When he looked back at her he could see how her eyes lingered on his gun that he had just been about to clean, thinking that it would still be a while before she would have been able to join him. “Emily?”
Her eyes snap to his and she licked over her suddenly dry lips. She didn’t know why the thought of his gun suddenly made want stir in her belly, didn’t know why she suddenly thought about how his gun looked small in his large hands and the precision in which he used it. But she did know that the restlessness she felt made her feel something she never had before as she looked at the weapon in front of her.
“Yeah?” For some reason her voice comes out low and breathy, so familiar to him in the throes of passion that he feels a tugging in his groin.
“What are you thinking about?” He husks as he circles her slowly until he’s standing behind her, lets his lips trail teasingly along the back of her neck as his hands grip her hips to pull her back against his chest. The adrenaline that suddenly rushed through his veins was intense, because he knew this was new, something neither of them had done before.
“N-nothing.” She swallows hard but cranes her neck to give him easier access to her skin.
“Tsk, you shouldn’t lie.” He nips at her neck and she gasps in response. “You’re still looking at it.” The way her body tenses slightly as she looks back at him with wide eyes makes him hum knowingly.
She tore her eyes from the gun, felt his lips turn into a smirk against her neck and when her eyes meet his there’s something dark reflecting in his brown orbs, something feral and new, something that sends a thrill through her body. And she knew she was caught.
He lets go of her and goes to sit down at his desk, a small smile tugging on his lips that he bites the inside of his cheek to keep at bay.
“You like my gun?” He beckons her closer and she walks around the desk to stand at his side. “Answer me.”
“I don’t know why.” She mumbles, shy in a way she usually never was with him and the way her cheeks heat up makes him sit back in chair.
“I’ll tell you what.” He pushes back slowly from his desk, one hand hovering over his fly. “You can sit here and watch me clean my gun, and if you’re quiet, I’ll give you a reward.”
She looks at him questionably, not understanding where he’s going with this. Her eyes shift from his gun to his hand as he slowly reaches for her, his fingers expertly popping the button of her pants.
“What are you doing?” She barely recognizes her voice, so thick with want that it comes out low and raspy.
“I’m undressing you.” He tells her matter-of-factly before pulling her pants and underwear down her hips. When they’re a puddle around her feet he stands to help her out of her shirt, her bra soon following as she stands completely naked in front of him. He tugged on the piercing, a nipple ring that she’d started wearing only a few days ago. “You’re going to sit here and keep my cock comfortable while I clean my gun.”
The whimper that escapes her comes without warning, suddenly so aroused that it feels like her entire body was set on fire. He’s barely even touched her, and yet she knows her slick are shining on her thighs already, her skin flushing as he looks at her with dark eyes.
“Aaron-“ she starts but is quickly cut off as he presses a finger against her lips.
“Quiet, sweetheart.” The nickname falls from his lips without hesitation and if he wasn’t so ridiculously turned on himself he would have corrected himself. But instead he simply drags the zipper of his slacks down, gets his hard cock out and sits back down on his chair.
Emily waits only a second before she straddles his legs, her hand around his shaft as she lines him up with her center. She runs the tip of him through her folds, lets him feel her wetness before slowly sinking down on him with a strangled moan. His hands spread her thighs wider apart, as wide as possible as he holds her tight against his chest, his breathing coming out of hot, short puffs against the back of her shoulder. She slowly starts to grind but his hands tighten and he bites down on her neck.
“No no, sit still, just like this.” He smirks when she forces herself to still on his lap, knows that she more than anything wants to move, to create friction for them both. “Rub your clit for me”
His low voice in her ear caused her to shiver and she squeezed around him return. Her fingers trembled as she does as he says, using two fingers to gently circle the bundle of nerves as Aaron hummed, pleased with her obedience.
“Fuck…” she gasped as she clenched around him again and she heard his low groan against her ear.
“Now watch.” He let go of her hips only to reach for his gun. When he held it up Emily bit back a moan, eyes fastened on it. “Dirty girl, you probably want me to fuck you with my gun.” He cleaned the muzzle as he talked.
She didn’t respond, but her hips buckling slightly and her fingers speeding up against her clit was more than enough of an answer. The danger of his words made her head spin, images of what he was saying flashing in her mind.
“Mhmm, you want me to fuck you with my gun like I fuck you with my cock, hard and deep. You want to drench it, want to ruin it with the mess you’d make.” He continues conversationally as he continues to clean gunpowder out of the barrel.
”Aaron, Jesus Christ.” Her eyes rolled back as heat spread through her, slowly building her orgasm up. The heightened situation made the familiar heat she now associated with him spread quicker than ever before. All she wanted was to move, but she stayed still even as her thighs shook, afraid to break whatever spell he’d managed to put her under.
“You want to clench around the barrel of my gun just like you’re clenching me right now.” Aaron growled at the way her tight walls were trembling around him. He didn’t know what kind of primal desire had set off for her, all he knew that the brutality of it was making it hard for him to control himself. He licked over her fluttering pulse, tasted the vibration of her moan as she trembled hard enough for him to stop what he was doing to keep her on his lap.
“C-can I?” She panted through dizzying pleasure, her fingers moving in quicker and quicker circles against her clit.
“Good girl.” He praised her with a low groan. “Come for me.” He let go of the grip and put down the rag he had used and wrapped one arm around her middle to keep her still, let the other move to tug gently on her nipple ring and then she was coming, a loud cry that he knew would have been heard through the door leaving her as she rocked on his lap, unable to keep from buckling as pleasure spread through her body in powerful waves.
Once she had calmed and he was sure that she wouldn’t fall off his lap he let go of her only to pick his gun up again. He could see how her eyes, heavy lidded and dark followed his movements as he reassembled his gun, slowly, deliberately.
“Did I tell you to stop?” He asked then, his hand wrapping around her wrist to place it back against her clit. “Keep clenching around me baby, make me feel good.”
She whimpered, her clit sensitive to the touch but she did what he said, rubbing slowly over it as Aaron simply held the gun out in front of her again.
“My filthy girl.” He licked a stripe up her neck, her skin tasting of sweat and adrenaline. “You’re enjoying yourself almost too much.” His hand gripped the gun tighter, making sure her eyes stayed on it as he slowly trailed it down her body. The muzzle grazed one of her nipples, the cold steel making her gasp before slowly moving it down her body, letting her feel it gently press against her stomach.
“Aaron I don’t-” Her words were cut off by him nudging her hand away from her clit, only to graze the gun against it, the muzzle scraping it gently. It was cold and hard, the feeling new and she whimpered.
“You’re soaking me.” He let the metal slide over her clit slowly, up and down, up and down, until she was clenching around him again. The barrel was shiny with her slick as he kept moving it against her clit, glinting in the low lights in his office and he grunted against her ear.
“I’m close.” Her hands were gripping his desk, her body trembling as she tried desperately not to move. The sight of his hand, large and strong, holding the gun, something dangerous and risky between her legs was something she knew she’d never forget. It was maddening, the excitement she felt as he brought her closer to the edge. She knew he was getting closer too, his low groans against her ear deep and raspy, the hand not holding the gun gripping her hard enough to leave bruises.
Then he pressed the barrel of the gun a little harder against her clit and she was coming with a guttural whine, her head thrown back against his shoulder and body trembling as she spasmed around him. The feeling of her clenching walls around him was enough for him to come as well, his release hard enough to knock the air out of him as he jerked up against her.
She was still coming down when she heard the thump of the gun hitting the floor and then his hand on her jaw, pulling her face towards his to kiss her deeply. He tastes like Aaron and adrenaline, almost metallic.
“You really will be the death of me.” He whispers once they pulled apart and she smiles lazily, a low hum leaving her.
“Let’s hope not. This is too much fun.” She kisses him again, kisses him until the need for air becomes too much.
When she gets home that night she can still feel him, can smell his cologne on her body, feel his warm hands on her skin. She pretends that thinking about him isn’t something she should see as a warning, that pressing on the bruises on her hips was only to remember the way he had felt as he grabbed at her and not thinking about the way he’d kissed each one after they were done.
She pretends because he’s married. He was a father. He was something fun to pass the time, to use as a way to get frustrations out. Wasn’t he?
*
It’s been three weeks since that night in his office, three weeks of things seemingly falling into chaos. The cases they worked were grueling, somehow worse than ever it felt like. They didn’t get much time to rest, flying to and from DC in a way they usually didn’t. It made Aaron want to be home as much as possible, because he missed Jack, missed Haley. But he also missed Emily.
They never spend the night together while on cases, knew that it was too risky. But as the days passed on, he could feel the tension build, pressure slowly making him close to agitated. He was too mad at the world, the cases they worked, the victims he met somehow getting under his skin in a way they usually didn’t.
And then it’s like something snaps, a local case, an unsub telling him in detail about his victims, all of them children, all of them dead. And Aaron can’t handle it.
She can tell, can tell the second her eyes meet his and she is quick to find him alone.
“What can I do?” She asks and he looks relieved to see her standing in the doorway of his office.
“Can I come over tonight?”
She can tell everything he doesn’t say, sees the anger and the way he wants nothing more than to scream his frustrations out at the world.
“Of course.” When his shoulders lower the tiniest bit she smiles. “I’ll take care of you.”
He calls Haley on the way, lies about an emergency meeting as he knocks on the door to Emily’s apartment door. She opens it with a filthy smile and nothing else and the second he’s hung up she’s on him, clawing at his clothes and kissing him like her life depended on it.
He lets her take charge, lets him get him undressed and up the stairs without question and then she’s pushing him back on the bed, quickly following him as she straddles him. It’s not often he does this, but tonight he feels like he needs it and Emily being her, already knew that even without being told. He sits up to kiss her, hands on her naked waist but she pushes him back against the bed again, hands flat on his chest as she slowly grinds on top of him, a smirk on her lips when he hisses at the heat of her along his shaft.
“I know you like this, having a dirty little secret.” Her lips ghosts over his and when he tries to kiss her she pulls back. “I know you come to my apartment to get out all that tension you can’t with her.” She licks across one of his nipples and when she tugs it between her teeth his jaw clenches as he swallows down a groan. “You use me, but it’s okay because I use you too.”
She’s sinking down on him and rides him until he’s groaning and swearing, her body dragging pleasure from his. When he comes it’s with her name hissed from between clenched teeth, his body sweaty and heavy with pleasure as she lets him enjoy the release he really needed as he relaxes back against her bed.
After, he cleans himself off in her bathroom and when he comes back to the bedroom, he finds it empty. He dresses, buttons every button and ties his tie before combing his hair quickly. When he walks downstairs he looks like Hotch again and Emily smiles at the sight.
She’s standing in the kitchen, leaning back against the same kitchen counter that he’s fucked her on more times than he’d like to admit, looking so effortlessly gorgeous and he has a hard time looking away from her.
“What?” She asks, teeth digging into her bottom lip.
“Nothing, I’ll see you at the office.” His hand gently grasps the back of her neck and pulls her into a kiss.
“I never thought I’d do this.” She admits once he’s pulled away and he looks at her questionably. “Help a man cheat, I mean.”
“I never thought I would cheat, but here I am.” He stays close and she lets her arms wrap around his neck loosely. ”Do you want to stop?”
“No.” She says softly and for the first time Aaron finds himself wondering if maybe they’re getting in too deep.
“I don’t either.” He tells her honestly as he rests his forehead against hers for a brief second.
The moment is interrupted by his phone, loud and obnoxious to his ears and when he looks at the screen he sees Haley’s name flashing on it.
“Hi honey.” He steps away from Emily and she gives him a gentle nod. “No, I’m heading home now, sorry the meeting ran long.”
Emily watches him go, his hand squeezing hers quickly before he heads to the door. Once he’s closed it behind him she finds herself not liking the silence of her apartment. It’s the first time she had ever come close to regret
#hotchniss#hotchniss smut#hotchniss fanfiction#aaron hotchner x emily prentiss smut#aaron hotchner x emily prentiss#hotch x emily#criminal minds smut#criminal minds fanfiction
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A Jackie/Hyde Ficlet, in Honor of My Friend Dena's (@zenmasterlover's) Birthday!
Happy Birthday, Dena!
The digital alarm clock on Hyde's dresser read 12:11 a.m. That was eleven bright-red minutes too late. Jackie should've been in his room by now, in his cot, and wearing the set of pajamas she'd kept in his drawer the last six days. He'd had a hell of a time convincing her to sleep here instead of her huge, adult-less house. It would've been a hard sell to him, too. But her mom never returned from Mexico, left Jackie with no guardian and no safety.
He sat up on his cot, muscles tensing. In the darkness of his room, he searched for his jeans by touch. A pair was folded somewhere on his bureau. If someone had messed with his chick on her way here -- but a sliver of light peeked through the crack of his door. The Formans' lights-off-by-eleven rule applied to the basement on Sundays through Thursdays.
And today was Thursday. He remembered shutting off the lights an hour ago. Still, his pulse tightened as he got off his ass and went to the door. His short-term memory wasn't the most reliable, especially on circle nights.
His socked feet trod quietly on the basement's cement floor. But from the short corridor to the common area, his steps vibrated loudly through his body. Or maybe it was his heart beat. The stereo and TV were off. The outward silence only amped the volume in his skull.
Best-case scenario, Jackie stubbornly decided to stay in her house tonight. Worst-case scenario -- he scrubbed his hand over his face. The cosmos could fuck with him all it wanted. It wouldn't screw with her just because he ... because she was his girlfriend.
He reached the basement shower. It was used only for storage, and he exhaled a heavy breath. Jackie's backpack leaned against the sofa. Beside it were her wedge shoes. Jackie herself was curled on the sofa, asleep. Her biology textbook and notebook lay open on the spool table.
Freakin' late-night test-cramming. He'd become a bad influence on her.
The Formans couldn't spot her backpack, shoes, or school crap, or else the jig was up. So he took care of those things first and brought them to his room. Then, carefully, he slid his hands under Jackie's upper back and legs. She muttered an unintelligible sound near his neck. Her eyes remained closed, and the weight of her body in his arms was comforting.
His pulse finally relaxed when he lowered Jackie onto his cot. Awkwardly, he crawled behind her on the mattress. He pulled his blanket over both of them. She muttered again when he adjusted his legs to fit beside hers, but she hugged his arm to her chest.
"Endoplasmic reticulum," she said.
"I got it," he whispered by her ear. I got you, he said in his mind. And she had him.
#that 70s show#that '70s show#jackie x hyde#jackie burkhart#steven hyde#ficlet#birthday#zenmasterlover
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a little to the left
2.6k words, gallavich + brief appearance from liam
; canon compliant/post season 11, domestic gallavich, hurt/comfort, trauma, dissociation, vomiting, gentle mickey milkovich
Most days Ian doesn't notice them. The blanks, the disconnect in his mind, the gaps in his memory like potholes in a road filled with oil slick and rainwater. They've been there since his late adolescence, weaving their way into his consciousness and embedding themselves into the membranes that separate his brain from his skull, so that he's used to them. He doesn't have to notice them, not when he can get by just fine without acknowledging them. But that's only on most days.
Some days the blanks are deep and pitch black, tripping him up or even swallowing him whole. His mind becomes a black hole, everything in disarray and stretched, twisted, deformed until it's all unrecognisable. His childhood is a jumble of scenes from a movie watched on a drunken night, parts of it covered with lumpy, expired Wite-Out and others blotted with blood, smeared and dirty. The confusion makes his head pound and bile rise in his throat. For the longest time he didn't connect the two things. He's been having depressive episodes since he was seventeen, always accompanied by aches and nausea, and it was easy to lump the blanks and gaps in with everything else the depression brought on.
But he's older now, taking medication and watching his routine so that the depression rarely rears its ugly head anymore, yet the days of darkness, confusion and agony persist. They come when he least expects them, when he has a day full of errands to run with his brother or a day he's promised to spend babysitting his niece or nephew. He goes through the motions the way he's taught himself to do on even the hardest days, but it feels like wading through raw sewage in nothing but his boxers, grime and filth splattered against his thighs and clinging to the inside of his nose. He barely survives it, throwing up everything he eats, sometimes before he can reach a toilet bowl, and crawling into his bed deaf to the worried murmurs of his husband.
It takes him years of survival, white-knuckled and tense-jawed, before it begins to make even a little sense to him.
"Hey, Ian."
Liam's voice pulls Ian's attention from the comedy rerun he and a sleepy Mickey are watching on the TV. He looks to where his youngest brother is sitting at their kitchen table, school laptop illuminating his face and an old, chewed-up pen in his hand.
"What's up?" Ian asks, lifting a hand to run his fingers through Mickey's hair. His husband grunts softly, pressing his face down against Ian's shoulder. Liam takes a breath, hesitating before he speaks again.
"You know the club you worked at?" he asks. Ian feels Mickey tense against him, and has to stroke his thumb against his forehead to keep him from cussing at the kid.
"Yeah, what about it?" Ian asks, trying to keep his voice lighthearted. "You aren't thinking of getting a job there, are you?"
"No," Liam says quickly, grimacing at the suggestion. Ian feels something in his chest relax. "I'm writing a paper on CSA for my psych class - you think it'd be okay if I interview you? Interviews get us extra points."
"CSA?" Ian asks, raising an eyebrow. Liam hesitates again, looking sheepish and guilty all of a sudden.
"Childhood sexual assault," he clarifies after mulling it over for a long minute. The second the words leave his mouth Mickey lifts his head from Ian's shoulder and glares at the teen.
"Write a paper on those fuckin' drooling dogs or something, man," he says, which would be funny if it weren't for how his jaw clenches once the words have left his mouth. "Leave your family outta that shit, we got enough people lookin' at us like social experiments already."
"Right," Liam mumbles, but his eyes don't move from Ian, who feels his face stiffening like concrete. "Okay, sorry."
"Nah, it's fine," Ian whispers, his voice barely audible even though he tried to speak normally. He turns his head away from his brother, back to the TV. The blue light of the screen suddenly takes on a purple tinge, spotlights moving against the inside of Ian's eyelids and illuminating dark, dirty floors soiled with bodily fluids and pills that had been crushed beneath someone's shoe. His veins throb in his arms, skin suddenly too tight for his flesh, like he's waking up with a bad hangover, dry-mouthed and disoriented.
"Ian."
He feels his lips forming a frown on his face but they don't belong to him, invisible fingers pulling down the corners of his lips to turn him into a sad mime. Mickey's hand, warm and rough cups his cheek. He blinks and the dirty floor disappears, replaced with worried blue eyes and dark, furrowed brows.
"Hey. Baby."
"I'm fine," his reply comes, automatic and without thought, before he even thinks the words. Clearly, this does nothing to soothe Mickey, eyes darting around Ian's face. His thumb rubs Ian's temple, stroking the vein that feels like it's about to burst. "I'm... I'm fine."
Mickey draws in a sharp breath, looking like he's ready to scold him, but he doesn't say anything. He shoots Liam a brief but withering look, before leaning in to kiss Ian's forehead.
"Okay," he mumbles, and slumps back against the sofa, but not without guiding Ian's head to rest against his shoulder.
Ian's chest is tight and aching, but he's fine. He's totally fine.
When he wakes up the next morning it's to Mickey yelling from the kitchen.
"Ian! You want coffee?"
He stiffens in their bed, his husband's voice sounding foreign.
"Ian?"
No, it isn't his husband's voice. It's the name. Ian. He squeezes his eyes shut and tries to recall the last time he heard that name, but all his mind can offer are broken, fragmented memories of strangers whispering Curtis or Clayton or Benjamin in his ear, their breath hot against his skin. The familiarity of the names is soothing and torturous all at once, and before he knows what's happening his stomach is squeezing, pushing. He sits up but barely manages to lift his head from his pillow before a stream of weak, beige-green liquid pours from his mouth, puddling on the sheets and dripping down his chin. He stares at the pool of vomit, gears moving in his head like he's looking at an old friend.
"Hey, man, you want coffee or-"
Mickey's voice stops just as abruptly as his movements, the man standing in the bedroom doorway like a statue. Ian turns his head to look at him, the small movement dizzying, and feels that same squeeze in his stomach. This time he has the foresight to move his hands, catching the little mouthful of hot, caustic stomach acid in his palms.
"Ian, c'mon, don't do that," Mickey whispers, approaching slowly and taking hold of Ian's wrists. He allows himself to be manoeuvred, watching as the vomit sloshes from his palms and lands on the bed sheets. The name on Mickey's lips makes Ian's skin prickle, and he curls into himself. He's too big for it to really work, but he must have been small enough once. Must have been small enough to fold into himself like an ashen baby bird, all skin and bone and ruffled feathers. He tries to curl into himself further, trying to remember where the instinct comes from, but all he sees is a bottomless pit. Panic curls around his throat like barbed wire. "Come on, you gotta wash your hands. I can help you."
"No, I..." Ian mumbles, his own voice startling him. He stares down at his palms, feeling fabric against his skin. Expensive fabric, yarn woven into fine cotton with 2% spandex, fabric he's never been able to afford, not even on his wedding day, but that he must have touched at some point. Blearily, he looks at Mickey, meets his worried gaze through thick tears that refuse to pour down his cheeks even as he blinks over and over. His breath catches in his throat. "I don't feel right."
"That's okay. I got you," Mickey reassures him. Lips press against his forehead in a sweet kiss. "Come on, babe. It's okay."
Mickey takes his hands, not recoiling or frowning when the still-warm vomit touches his skin. He smiles, soft, small, scared, and helps the redhead stand up.
"You're fine. I got you," he repeats, and kisses the dense patch of freckles on Ian's shoulder. The touch is familiar, and this time the familiarity is comforting without also being nauseating. He holds on tight to Mickey until their hands are under the running water of their bathroom tap, and as soon as their palms are separated he finds himself leaning into the other man, curling up again, trying to make himself smaller. He can feel Mickey watching him, gauging his condition, taking in his expressions and reaction to every little touch. "You're okay, Ia- baby."
Ian looks up, looks at Mickey's wet lashes when he bites back the name on the tip of his tongue. He doesn't understand why or how, but Mickey always knows what to say and, more importantly, he always knows what not to say. He drags in a deep breath that doesn't really reach his lungs and drops his head so he can hide his face against Mickey's shoulder. Hiding. Even if he can't seem to think of much right now, he knows he's good at hiding.
"Sorry I threw up," he mumbles into Mickey's shoulder, which makes his husband chuckle.
"I've seen you puke before, man," Mickey says. "That fuckin' sushi Debbie made us all eat last year? Playing drinking games with Sandy?"
Ian recognises the memories like the face of a quiet classmate in a yearbook - he can place them in the right environment, but can't picture them doing anything, not even opening their mouth to say 'present' for attendance. He winces, the effort of trying to pull forth images he knows are there making him dizzy.
"C'mon," Mickey whispers, turning off the tap. "Let's get some breakfast in you. Pepto Bismol with your meds maybe."
"Wait," Ian pleads, not ready to open his eyes and face the world yet. Not when he can't remember his place in it. Again, Mickey takes it in his stride. He pulls Ian into a hug that's firm enough to ground him and gentle enough to remind him that Mickey loves him. The reminder is enough to ease the jelly feeling in his joints just a little, Mickey's thumb moving back and forth against his shoulder blade like it's all he's ever wanted to do, and Ian takes a deep breath. The just-woke-up smell on Mickey, a smell that he knows he's always loved, even if he's never been sure why.
"I love you, man," Mickey murmurs sincerely. Ian relaxes just a little more.
"I love you too."
The day goes by slowly, every bit of it like pulling teeth. He downs his medication and food Mickey gives him even though his stomach twists nervously with each swallow. They watch cartoons on the sofa and Mickey smokes through a pack of cigarettes before dinner, his eyes flicking back and forth between Ian and the TV so often that he must not be getting any of what's on the screen. The vigilance is comforting, a reminder that he really is sitting on their sofa and not just dreaming up the four walls around him, so he doesn't mention it to Mickey.
By the late afternoon he's falling asleep, tired just from keeping his eyes open and his food down. He lays his head on Mickey's lap, nose pressed into his husband's thigh and shuts his eyes when fingers immediately find their way to his hair, running through his curls and brushing stray hairs from his forehead.
"You wanna head to the clinic tomorrow, check your meds?" he asks.
"Maybe," is all Ian can muster the energy to say. Mickey hums, thumb rubbing his brow bone.
There's a long pause, long enough that Ian almost falls asleep, before Mickey speaks up again.
"You did good, Ian."
Ian. The name finally sounds familiar again. No bile rises at the sound of it and there's no ache in his chest as he tries to place it. Relief washes over him, icy and overwhelming, and pulls him under.
The next day he wakes feeling disoriented but not nauseous. His head is on Mickey's chest, his heartbeat steady and reliable where it thumps against his cheek. He takes a deep breath in and lifts a hand to trace a fingertip along the tattoo of his name on his husband's skin, his heart fluttering the same way it used to when they were kids and Mickey would show up at the corner store looking for him. His body feels like his own again, every organ, capillary and freckle back in its rightful place.
He makes coffee while Mickey sleeps in. He knows after a day like yesterday that Mickey must've been up half the night, watching him sleep as though his next breath might not come, and feels a little guilty at the thought. When he carries two mugs of coffee back to the bedroom and a pack of Oreos pinched between his teeth, Mickey is waiting for him, a smile on his lips.
"Morning, mister," he grumbles, voice sleep-rough in a way that makes Ian giddy. Ian drops the Oreos on the bed and leans in for a kiss, hungry for Mickey's touch more than anything else.
"Good morning," he replies, handing Mickey his mug and settling in next to him.
"You feelin' okay? Wanna hit the clinic after breakfast?" Mickey asks cautiously, watching Ian's expression for any telltale signs that he's hiding something.
"Nah, I'm... I'm okay," Ian mumbles, shrugging. "I don't know what was up yesterday, it was like everything was a few inches to the left or something. I couldn't remember shit."
He looks at Mickey and smiles at the crease between his worried brows.
"I'm okay now, Mick. Seriously."
Mickey grunts, frowning in a way that lets Ian know he's sorting his thoughts into words that make sense. They're halfway through their coffee before he's ready to speak, but Ian doesn't mind the waiting. He doesn't mind much when it comes to Mickey these days, at least not as much as he claims to.
"Y'know, Svetlana had days like that," he says, slow and unsure. "She'd get pukey and shit, couldn't hold a conversation... It was weird, 'cause she was always so fuckin' headstrong y'know? Seein' you like that..."– Mickey pauses, reaches out to cup Ian's cheek for a moment and rubs his thumb over the freckles on his temple. –"Maybe you should see a shrink, talk about the stuff that happened at the club."
Something clicks in Ian's head at the mention of Svetlana, all of the blanks, disconnects and gaps in his mind making a little more sense now.
"Yeah. Maybe," he sighs, and turns his head to press a kiss to Mickey's palm. "Thanks for not freaking out."
"Anytime," Mickey says with a small, worried smile. Just a couple of years ago Ian would've felt guilty for being the cause of his worry, but he understands it now. They're husbands. They're always going to worry about each other.
"I love you," he tells Mickey, which earns him one of those shiny-eyed smiles he adores with all his heart.
"Love you too, Red."
Maybe tomorrow he'll book himself an appointment at the clinic. Today though, all he wants to do is make up for the time he lost yesterday.
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A Legacy of Brambles and Thorns Abridged Analysis: Elizabeth "Lizzie" Hearts
If you haven't read A Legacy of Brambles and Thorns by @c-rose2081, I highly suggest you do, as it is one of my favorite Ever After High rewrites! I would also suggest you do it before diving into my analysis, as it will contain spoilers for what has happened thus far in the story. (also, this very likely won't be proofread, so if you see any spelling or grammatical errors, no you don't.)
Lizzie Hearts is a fascinating character in this version of Ever After High. We don't know much about her other than a few details here and there from other characters when she first makes an appearance- saving Briar from being poisoned by an assassin. By doing this, Briar now owes Lizzie a boon of sorts, but interestingly, Lizzie makes it so Briar has a favor from her:
"...The wonderlandian girl stepped forward, standing on her toes to place a kiss right on Briar’s cheekbone. Startled, she reeled back in confusion, but the future Red Queen took her face in one hand, sharp nails ghosting against her skin. Lizzie continued to stare for a while before something crossed her face and she visibly relaxed. Humming a bit in her throat (the first sound Briar had heard from her) she stepped back, walking off without a word.
“Ooh, Lizzie likes you,” Maddie chirped. “You’re a lucky duck!”
No one gave an explanation as the three Wonderlandians made their exit, heading back down the hall and around the corner towards the Castleteria. Briar stared in their wake, lifting a hand to feel the smudge of red lipstick left on her face. “Darling, I think I’m hallucinating.”
“Not hallucinating,” the knight confirmed with a faint laugh. “You just received a token from the future Red Queen. Consider that a great honor.”" (Act 1, Chapter 11)
The audience soon discovers what exactly the favor Lizzie will call upon for Briar to fulfill: to return with her to Wonderland and be her champion, which is confirmed by a prophecy:
"A champion of white bears the scales and a champion of red bears the sword." (Act 1, Chapter 14)
Here's some interesting... Lizzie made it clear at the end of Act 1 that she does not like Snow trying to control the people with destiny:
"“But I will not go empty handed. The Ever Queen is a traitor, playing favorites to the White Court when she’s already promised to be unbiased. The treaty between Wonderland and Ever After is broken, and I cannot leave here with nothing. My people are in grave danger, threatened by the ivory regime. Destiny is not meant to be used as a guise for power, it is meant to be unique and ever changing, if not sometimes unfair. I will not allow my people to be bound to something falsified...”" (Act 1, Chapter 29)
This, followed by her actions in the rest of the chapter, confirmed something to me about the new Queen of the Red Court.
Elizabeth "Lizzie" Hearts is a hypocrite.
This was even confirmed by the author herself when yours truly sent in an ask expressing this!
"...(So yes, she is totally a hypocrite. If not a different flavor than Snow and with slightly different intentions)"
For further context, as I know I cannot just call Lizzie a hypocrite before moving on: After the death of her mother, Lizzie's soldiers invade Ever After High. At some point, Lizzie kidnaps Briar, manipulates her into agreeing to being her champion, and then drugs her into a forced sleep.
(WARNING: this is where it gets a little incoherent, so be warned lol)
Here was my initial thought: Lizzie says she doesn't like Snow controlling people via destiny, and then, in the same chapter, lies to Briar in order to get her to fulfill the prophecy. Now doesn't that sound familiar?
(Another little tidbit: you could argue that all the things Lizzie has done for Briar since they met was a tactic to get Briar to trust her, so she'd be more willing to agree to be her champion. Just, y'know, something to think about, too.)
But here's where it gets complicated: Lizzie is doing this for the Greater Good, in order to keep her kingdom, and by extension, her people, safe. While this doesn't excuse her actions, it does separate her from Snow White's reasonings for using destiny with the people of Ever After- control.
Something else that also piqued my curiosity is how in the story, Lizzie Hearts/Briar Beauty is tagged, and in Chapter 14, Lizzie mentions this:
"“She has ferocity and courage in her eyes,” Lizzie admitted, counting her cards as they laid before her. “But something else too, which is nay impossible to explain or describe. I wonder if it is the same feeling mother had upon finding my father as her champion.”"
She also calls Briar "my love" a few times at the end of Act 1.... hmmmmm...
It's all just so... fascinating to me. I have a feeling sometime in Act 2, Briar will call out Lizzie (I'd be surprised if she didn't), and maybe that'll be a little plot point, or maybe it won't, who knows!
This was just me word vomiting onto a tumblr post, but I really enjoyed doing it, so maybe I'll do it in the future with another eah fanfic character :)
#nonny's nonsense#ever after high#eah#lizzie hearts#briar beauty#ever after high fanfic#eah fanfic#ever after high rewrite#eah rewrite#fanfiction analysis#fanfic analysis
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For 20 years, Harvest Moon’s A Wonderful Life has been The One That Got Away and this week I have finally caught it. See you all in a month.
Just kidding (maybe… xD)
#you have no idea how hard I tried to play this game as a teen#it’s just as relaxing now as it was when I was 11#and antiquated in almost every way#but that will not stop me#harvest moon#story of seasons#a wonderful life
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Am I being a petty bitch and just sitting in the bathroom waiting for my younger brother to come upstairs so I can switch on the shower and say I’m gonna be a while? Yes. Yes I am
#my younger brother has a selfish habit of only showering when he wants and not taking into consideration when the remainder of the family#I live in a house of five btw#need to either use the bathroom or whatnot#my mom wants to take a relaxing bath and this is the only night in the week she can? sorry mom. I’ll be 45 minutes in the shower#my older brother is out at the gym and says he needs the shower at exactly 9am when he gets home? sorry. that’s when bitch boy wants the#shower#I need to come upstairs and brush my teeth for bed cause it’s like 11:15pm? so sorry. even tho he’s had all night and has school tomorrow#hell shower when he wants#so now I’m purposefully sitting in the bathroom just waiting for pay back#there is no level to which I won’t go to destroy this 14 year old#s things#I meant 9pm but I’m on a rage shush
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actually looking up flight tickets just so I can go to a con over the weekend with shelby in september
#so many cool people are gonna be there ok!!!#i love how we spent 11 years deliberating over when to visit each other and now its just#you wanna come over for a weekend of fun and relaxation? you bet your ass i do
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My second playthrough of Engage is going well (just finished chapter 17) and I’m still enjoying the gameplay and have definitely had a better time getting supports with my knowledge of how to game the arena as well as having access to the new support-gaining options from the start. However I’m starting to worry about the game’s long-term replayability.
In most FE games, even if the gameplay is only so-so, I can power through several runs basically because of shipping - I’d play the game multiple times to get different paired ends. I’ve already complained about that a lot in other posts, so I won’t rehash it here beyond saying obviously that’s not possible in this case. Sure, you can get different paired endings for Alear, but honestly most of the pact ring scenes and ESPECIALLY the endings are weak. Even for the people who care more about the self-inserting and picking who they want to be with as opposed to matchmaking, I doubt this would be satisfying enough on its own to merit multiple runs of the game.
So if that aspect and reason to replay the game is gone, what’s left? Gameplay, obviously. And yes, the gameplay is good - great, even! This is the most fun I’ve ever had in an FE game when it comes to actually playing the maps. However I can already feel myself falling into complacent gaming - I KNOW from a previous run which characters are better (unless they get super RNG screwed) and which combinations of emblems/units works best, and I find myself defaulting to those rather than experimenting.
It doesn’t help that this game makes it kind of difficult/punishing to do so. There are A LOT of resources to track and use in this game, and they’re all somewhat limited. Up until chapter 17 you’re limited on how many master/second seals you can get, and even once you have unlimited access... they’re expensive! And more than ANY other FE game, this one makes it hard to get money. Even knowing NOT to spend as much money donating to the countries on a second run, you’ll probably run out of cash FAST between buying seals, weapons/staves, and forging the weapons.
There are certain units that basically NEED to be reclassed in order to perform well - in particular, Anna, Etie, Lapis, and maybe Clanne would be better in classes they can’t promote to naturally. But it’s hard to justify using them and wasting TWO seals (a master AND second seal) when the rest of your army only needs one seal to do well or comes as a VERY good pre-promote. That’s not even getting into how due to the relative lack of seals and their cost, I’m less inclined to reclass units just for fun or to see how they fare in radically different roles.
3 Houses had a lot of flaws and overall the gameplay is NOT as good as Engage, but I DID appreciate being able to build my starting class however I pleased. It was a tedious process, but it was rewarding to play the same route multiple times and use most of the same units, but with VERY different classes/roles. In particular, the more balanced, well-rounded units were SO fun to teach since they could perform well in almost any class!
Meanwhile in Engage, I spend a lot of time LOOKING at the classes available to everyone and thinking it might be nice/fun to reclass some people, but ultimately, they’re doing “well enough” in their default class and I can’t justify wasting the seal(s) just for an experiment that might not pan out. If I use that seal, either one more person doesn’t get to promote/reclass or I’m wasting 2500+ gold.
That’s not even getting into the scarcity of the forging resources or how quickly you can blow through your bond fragments (and in ways that aren’t ideal) if you’re not careful. With so many resources to manage, all of which you CAN technically gain more of but only through playing extra battles (which are at best boring or difficult, and at worst DEADLY on classic), it really feels like you’re discouraged from experimenting. You want to hold onto as many resources as possible for as long as you can, so you can’t throw them around for fun to see what works.
What this game needs (as several people have pointed out already) is some kind of new game plus. There NEEDS to be a version of this game where you carry over at least SOME of the things you gained/accomplished into a new game. Personally I’d like to see it carrying over your donation levels, emblem bond levels, and MAYBE bond rings and the weapons you had/forged (though obviously removing any engravings. Also probably still erasing all the special S rank weapons).
I don’t see HOW people are expected to “complete” the game without that, honestly. Donating to the countries is too much of a money sink for one contained run, but if you had multiple playthroughs to do it, it wouldn’t be an issue. Especially since you’d get a bunch of money at specific chapters each run, and if you retain weapons too, you’d spend less of it on forging. If you don’t retain weapons... well, at least the higher donation level means you’re getting more iron/steel/silver from every map from the start, so you don’t HAVE to do skirmishes just to get resources.
Retaining bond levels means you don’t have to waste fragments getting the SAME bonds and skills and conversations with the same units. Instead you can chip away at the CBA bond level for every Emblem/unit pair. As for bond rings, I’d mainly want to see them retained so you don’t have to deal with as much gatcha hell in getting all the rings.
And of course on a new game plus, with all the extra resources at your disposal and less ways you NEED to spend it, you’d be free to experiment more with reclassing units!
I’m just disappointed because I genuinely LOVE this game but there are so many ways it could be better and give me a reason to keep playing it. A lot of the characters are great and I honestly see a ton of shipping potential in the supports... but they all go nowhere without paired endings. The gameplay is the best it’s ever been for FE, and I’d love to experiment and come at it with different units and builds... but I’m so scared of wasting valuable resources that I’m mostly unwilling to experiment and instead stick to the units that are reliable as-is.
#fire emblem#fire emblem engage#fe17#we should be getting one more free update to go along with the 4th dlc#so there's a slim chance we'll get new game plus or paired endings then. but i wouldn't bet on it#it's just depressing because honestly EITHER ONE of those by itself would mostly save the game for me#either i could focus on shipping and replay for different paired endings#or with new game plus i'd be able to relax and actually use my resources. so the gameplay would get a shake-up#and every run being more unique i'd be able to get by more on gameplay alone. right now it's getting a bit stale#for the record i haven't bought the dlc so i don't know how much it impacts the whole resources issue#i know you get a bunch of free money which would be nice but... the story AND gameplay are SO tightly designed#around having specifically 12 emblems (plus the lategame spoiler)#HOW am i supposed to get into chapter 11 or 22 when I have an army of dlc emblems?#or 17 which is explicitly a 6-on-6 emblem war? but uh with dlc that's very much not the case#hell the final battle specifically wants you to have and use all 12 emblems. but if you have dlc you probably used some of them instead#i like the added CONTENT of the dlc - more maps and more characters that the units bond with#but i don't like how they break the story and probably also the game. so i've abstained.#i know i COULD buy the dlc just for the story. but it would feel ridiculous to HAVE these characters and powers and NOT use them
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summary: you've been helping your neighbor, gojo satoru, out by babysitting megumi. when megumi's catches the flu, gojo relies on you for help.
a.n.: megumi is ~4-5 years old, and is extremely attached to you. a little angsty, mostly fluffy, a sprinkle of smut at the end. cursing, female reader.
~
The first time Megumi got sick, Gojo panicked. Not the frantic, frenzied sort of panic, but the quiet, desperate kind that he did his best to hide. But you noticed it - the way his fingers trembled, the way he barely looked you in the eye, the way he repeatedly ran his hands through his hair.
It was usually you who made the elevator trip up to Gojo’s high-rise loft to babysit Megumi a couple of days a week. That’s why it took you aback to see him at your door at 11:53 at night, looking stricken as he told you Megumi refused to eat all day and started throwing up.
You followed him to his place immediately, your heart squeezing at the sight of Megumi bundled up in his bed, his little face scrunched up in discomfort.
“Hey sweetie, you’re not feeling so good?” you cooed, kneeling as you placed your cheek against his warm forehead. He shook his head, though his flushed cheeks and labored breathing were enough confirmation that he was sick.
“He’s running a fever. Probably a cold, but you should take him to the ER just in case,” you told Gojo, watching as his shoulders tensed. He was slightly older than you, but still young to have a child; you could imagine how anxious he was feeling about Megumi’s first ER visit.
“I can come with you,” you offered, watching his shoulders relaxed ever so slightly.
“Please,” he said lowly, looking at you like you were his salvation.
You made quick work changing Megumi out of his sweat-soaked clothes and prepared a small bag of his favorite snacks and toys. You caught a glance at Gojo’s awe-stricken face before you scooped Megumi into your arms and followed Gojo to his car.
The silence in the car ride was heavy, Gojo’s stress was obvious in the way he gripped the steering wheel so hard his fingertips turned white.
“He’ll be okay. I’ll be here until he is,” you said gently.
His eyes flicked to you for a second before he swallowed roughly. He nodded, murmuring his thanks before you lost him to his thoughts.
Megumi was seen within the hour, the perfect patient as he allowed himself to be examined without a fuss (As long as you held his hand the entire time).
“It’s the stomach flu, pretty common for this time of the year. I’ll send you home with some medications, just be sure to keep him hydrated,” the doctor said.
“Let mom and dad take care of you, alright Megumi? You’ll get better in no time,” she said kindly, patting his head as he nodded sleepily. You looked at Gojo, waiting for him to correct her. But he didn’t.
As soon as she left the room, Gojo sank into the chair, exhaling heavily as he placed his head in his hands. It was strange to see a man so proud and confident to look so…tired. So human.
You stood between his legs, gingerly laying your hand on his shoulder.
“See? Megumi will be just fine,” you said, swiping your thumb back and forth over his skin.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve felt scared like that,” he admitted, reaching up to cover your hand with his.
“It’s how you know you’re a parent,” you said, moving your hand to cup his cheek.
He finally looked up at you, a mixture of relief, exhaustion, and something else painted in those eyes of his. You watched him wordlessly as he leaned into your touch, his long lashes fanning across his cheeks.
After a beat, his eyes snapped open, looking downwards as a sleepy Megumi tugged at his pant leg.
“Home now please?” he asked groggily, barely able to keep himself upright.
The two of you laughed as Gojo lifted him into his arms, Megumi settling his head on Gojo’s shoulder.
“Let’s go home,” he said, wrapping his jacket around Megumi. You could’ve sworn he was looking at you as he said it, though.
~
Sick Megumi was unexpecedly clingy. The first few times you babysat him, you were taken aback by how quiet and independent he was. Most kids his age demanded constant attention, but he was happy to be left alone with his two dogs. You did find out that shadowpuppets was a surefire way to get him to laugh, though.
You tried getting Megumi to rest in his bedroom, but as soon as the preschooler realized you weren’t right next to him, he’d get up to wander Gojo’s loft, tearfully calling your name until he found you. That's why you decided to settle down on the leather recliner in the living room, Megumi asleep on your chest with a blanket draped over the two of you. You were immersed in your Kindle before the sound of the front door unlocking dragged you back to reality.
Gojos strolled in, stopping in his tracks when he noticed the two of you. His sharp eyes eyes softened as he approached.
“Welcome home. You’re back early,” you greeted quietly, your heartbeat quickening as Gojo lowered himself to a crouching position so he could sneak a look at Megumi’s face.
His eyes flickered to yours, full of emotion you couldn’t quite place. He swept a few strands out of Megumi’s eyes, studying him like he needed to confirm that he was breathing.
“I may or may not have snuck away,” Gojo mused, eyes full of warmth and mischief.
“Careful, or this one will begin picking up some bad habits,” you teased, rubbing Megumi’s back as he stirred.
“Nah, he’s too much of a goody-two-shoes. Besides, there are more important things than work,” he said fondly, and the way his eyes flowed between the two of you while he talked, it felt like he was talking about you too.
You averted your eyes as you blushed, thankful that Megumi chose that moment to wake up.
His little fists rubbed against his half-closed eyes, looking between you and Gojo like he was wondering if he was dreaming.
He reached his hands out towards Gojo, who readily scooped him into his arms.
“Alright, I’ll get going then. I already gave him his meds and a bath so he should be okay for the rest of the night,” you said, gathering your things as you sat up.
You leaned forward to kiss Megumi goodbye, only to be stopped by the tears welling up in his eyes and the grip his hand had on your own.
“Don’t go,” he said, almost making you cry with how sad and adorable he was.
“Not fair Megumi. You don’t even cry when I leave,” Gojo teased, rubbing his back as you laughed.
“Gojo is home now my love, I’ll see you tomorrow though! I’ll already be here by the time you wake up,” you promised, wiping the tears from his soft cheeks.
Megumi sniffed as he shook his head, reaching his arms out towards you. You took him back into your arms, giggling at Gojo’s feigned hurt expression.
“I’m hurt, Megumi,” he said, making a show of wiping fake tears from his face.
“Oh no, look how sad he is Megumi! Don’t you want to spend some time with him?” you said, inching closer to Gojo, whose arms were outstretched.
Megumi looked at him for a second before shaking his head, burying his face in your neck.
You laughed even harder at Gojo’s expression, unable to find Megumi anything except utterly adorable.
“Fine, I get it. I would’ve chosen her too,” Gojo said, throwing you off with the affection in his smile.
“I can stay untill he falls asleep,” you mouthed to Gojo, hoping he could read your lips. He smiled at you before leaning into your space, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke.
“Or you could stay for dinner. As a friend, not a babysitter,” he whispered, sending shivers down your spine.
“I couldn’t impose,” you replied, a bit more breathlessly than you intended.
“Nonsense. I’ve been dying to cook you dinner while you sit prettily in that chair,” Gojo said, seemingly pleased at the blush revisiting your cheeks.
How could I say no to that?
~
The sun had set long before you were finally able to get Megumi to bed for the night, the moonlight seeping into Gojo’s living room through the enormous windows.
You allowed yourself to sink down onto his couch, the exhaustion from the day wearing on you. Though Megumi’s fever finally broke, he could barely keep his food down today, forcing you to go back and forth bathing him, changing his bedsheets, and cooking different meals to see what he could stomach.
The click of the door being unlocked made you jump, the familiar sight of Gojo making you forget about how tired you were.
He sauntered towards you, looking so enraptured that he didn’t speak a word.
You froze as you understood why. The usual modest clothes you had on were long forgotten after repeated trips to the bathtub to wash the vomit and sweat off Megumi. The chaos of the day left you in your underclothes - a thin tank top and cotton shorts - which Gojo seemed to be studying as though he’d never seen them before.
“Welcome home,” you began shyly, sitting up as you attempted to cover yourself with a pillow.
“Sorry about the outfit. Long day,” you continued sheepishly.
Gojo’s eyes finally snapped up to yours, somehow making you feel more naked than ever.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said, something unreadable in his tone.
He changed out of his work attire - taking off his watch, loosening his tie, and stripping off his jacket. Completely normal things to do when you get home. But he captivated your attention, unable to tear your eyes away from him.
“I can’t believe I’m jealous of a child,” he said to himself as he sat to join you on the couch, looking sinfully handsome with his hair tousled and the top buttons of his shirt undone.
“What do you mean?” you pressed, feeling your self-control begin to slip as you smelled as his cologne wafting towards you.
“Megumi gets to be with you all day. Gets to hug you, hold you, lay his head on your chest. I’m jealous,” he drawled.
You heard it again. That voice in the back of your head begging you to give in to the pull you constantly felt towards Gojo.
You dared to inch closer, well aware of his gaze roving up and down your body.
“You can do those things,” you said slowly, never breaking eye contact with him. And just like that, he snapped.
He was on you instantly, pinning you to the back of the couch as his lips moved against yours, desperate and demanding.
You kissed him back with the same fervor, shamelessly roving your hands over the smooth expanse of his chest, until you reached his hair. His silvery locks were just as silky as you expected, and you couldn’t help yourself as you gave them a light tug.
The deep, guttural sound that came out of him sent a wave of pleasure throughout your body. You felt your breath leave you as Gojo laid you on your back, positioning himself between your legs.
“I’ve wanted you since the day I saw you,” he murmured against your ear. His lips began moving from your jaw down your neck, causing you to gasp and squirm as he smiled against you.
“I kept myself on a tight leash for Megumi’s sake,” he started, trailing kisses across your shoulders.
“But you in that outfit? Fuck, I knew it was over for me,” he said, pulling back to admire how flushed and breathless he made you.
You grabbed the edge of his collar, tugging his lips to yours to return the favor. You wrapped a leg around his waist, pulling him even closer to you, his ragged breathing music to your ears.
“Fucking finally,” you said between kisses.
The sound of a thud coming from Megumi’s room caused you both to freeze. You rushed over to check on him, relieved to see he kicked his water bottle off his bed in his sleep. Sighing, you dragged the blanket back over his sleeping form, walking back to where Gojo sat on the couch.
His pupils were blown out, his lips bruised and swollen.
“Maybe we should continue another time, I don’t wanna wake him up,” you said, surprised at Gojo’s lack of protest. Instead, he tugged you into his lap, placing a soft kiss on your cheek.
“Free your schedule next week. Megumi’s gonna spend a day with Uncle Nanami, and I’m taking you out on a date. And we’re gonna end the night in my bedroom, where you can be as loud as you want.”
#gojo fanfic#gojo fluff#gojo satoru#gojo x you#gojou satoru x reader#gojo x y/n#jjk x reader#female reader#gojo x reader#jjk fanfic#megumi fushiguro#jjk megumi#megumi x reader#jujutsu megumi#jujutsu kaisen megumi#fushiguro#megumi fluff#fushiguro fluff#jjk drabbles#jjk imagines#gojo headcanons#gojo hurt/comfort#gojo drabbles#baby megumi#jjk fluff#jjk gojo#jjk smut#satoru gojo#gojo smut#jjk satoru
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Simon with an s/o who has a cat
Prt.2 here! <-
He hates your cat 😭
Their literally mortal enemies it's ridiculous
The cat glares at Simon 24/7 and he stares right back
You finally make it home after a stressful day at work ready to shower and relax. You open the front door and call out, "I'm home!" You get no response. It makes your brows furrow in confusion, having been used to a little furry friend lying on your unused shoes waiting for you to get home or hearing the heavy steps of your boyfriend making his way toward you. But today there was no welcome wagon for you.
Your heart immediately racks in worry the once steady beat of it moving to an unnaturally quick pace. Your hands move faster to remove your shoes and jacket wanting to look for the person and cat that once populated your apartment.
You call out again, "Simon? My Baby?"
"In here, dove." At the sound of your lover's voice, you're on the move heading to where his voice had been most prominent.
When you get to Simon- in the bathroom -he's clad in only a towel water still dripping from his hair and body and condensation on the mirror signifying he's just gotten out of the shower. Then your gaze goes to his face and his eyes aren't on you they're focused on something on the counter.
Your cat.
They're staring at each other both of them refusing to look away from one another. They were barely blinking. Then you realize why Simon's having a glaring contest with your pet, it's because the cat was on his clothes refusing to move out of pure stubbornness.
Suddenly you're glaring at the both of them too, "Are you guys being serious right now? This is getting ridiculous," you tell them and with Simon's response you roll your eyes and walk away.
"Oh, this is deadly serious, love"
Sometimes when Simon walks by your cat it latches onto Simon's leg kicking and biting the shit out of him (your poor boyfriend is just about ready to chuck the cat into outer space)
Your little fur baby definitely steals or tries to steal food from Simon's plates. Simon swears the cat gets stronger when determined to get into his stuff
Simon's cups have been knocked off of tables more often then not being left to clean up a mess that isn't his
Your looking up from your plate of food as soon as you hear grumbles and silverware clanking roughly against a porcelain plate. You smile a little at the sight in front of you. Simon's pushing your cats head back away from his food, while the cat uses all of his strength. Simon's scowl at the animal only gets deeper when he sees you smile at his unfortunate situation.
"You better not be smilin'," He says annoyance clear in his tone.
Now your laughing, a sound simon usually adores, one that makes his body relax, one that makes him feel safe, but now it has him clenching his jaw and has his eyebrows furrowed.
"Make 'im stop," He growls.
You pretent to think about it for a moment, pointer finger tapping your chin in faux thought, "I don't know si... this is thoroughly entertaining. What's in it for me if I help you?" The vein on his arm looked like it might burst at your question.
"If you don't get this dammed cat away from me it's gonna go missin'," you roll your eyes at his dramatics but called your cat to you regardless.
When you cuddle with one of them the other gets sooooo jealous
Simon will literally toss your little baby off the bed
The cat hits and claws for simon to get away from you
(Your constantly having to scold them its like having two children)
These two will argue with each other Simon's voice is stern its how you imagine he talks to new recruits and your cat is meowing loudly at him clearing cussing him tf out
Groggily peeling open your crused eyes open but quickly closing them as the bright morning sun peeked through your bedroom window you start to awaken. You rubbed into your eyes with the back of your fist before opening them again moving to look at the clock on the bedside table.
11:23
You slept in, or really someone let you sleep in because to your right your boyfriend seemed to have long since left the bed leaving the side he usually accompanied empty and cold.
You stretched and groaned the sheets and blankets moved with you weird groans and grunts leaving your yawning mouth as your joints crackled and popped. You sat up in bed still drowsy with sleep barley aware of your surroundings but still you gripped the enormous blanket and wrapped it around yourself as an act to shield the breezy-ness of the winter weather that leaked into your apartment.
Mreeeooow!
Your head whips to the door at the loud sound. Your cat was talkative but he was never very loud about him. This time the usual cute sound was replaced with an almost screech that made you cringe.
You take a deep breath before standing up and making your way to your room door. Once you open it the sounds of your cat get louder and now you can hear Simon too. His voice is booming but isn't loud it's stern and serious but filled with frustration and anger.
As you walk down the hall to the living area your duvet drag behind you on the floor. The floor creaks and groans under your feet alerting the two others in your home. Both their heads snap towards you. Your little baby's ears are pinned back in airplane mode and his pupils are dilated. Your big baby has his nose scrunched and lips downturned into a frown.
Your voice is laced with tiredness and a little deeper than it normally is, "What are you two arguing about this time?" The back of your hand is rubbing one of your eyes again as you speak.
"The little fucker is bein' disrespectful, he's not listenin' to me."
The cat meows loudly in response to Simon seeming trying to say he was lying.
You sigh and move to pick your cat up, he turns to putty in your arms and nuzzles his head against your chin. You walk towards Simon now. Leaning into him and humming contently when he wrapped his arms around you and the little one in your arms pretending to be annoyed but fully relaxing against your body.
#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley#cod mw2 x reader#cod x reader#ghost x reader#simon riley x you#simon ghost riley x you#simon riley fluff#simon ghost riley fluff
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just friends (roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader)
summary: you and steve have been just friends for years now. but how long can you convince everyone you're 'just friends' before it becomes a lie?
or steve harrington is your super hot roommate and everyone thinks it's stupid you guys aren't dating yet.
uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.
✶ just friends (again) (part two)
✶ the library
tags: roommate!steve, kinda shitty boyfriend!eddie, pining, fluff, angst, casual dominance from our casual dominance king steve, honestly going to try so hard not to make this a series but you know me.
a/n: i've wanted to write roommate!steve for so ages. you can thank a much-needed new girl binge and my tendency to take my frustration out on my mop for this.
The bass-heavy bump of music came at Steve full force before he even stepped out of the elevator. He paused, staring down the door of your shared apartment knowing that the sight that would welcome him would not be pretty.
In the kitchen, you were hunched over the handle of a mop, furiously dragging it over a sliver of tile. Teeth gritted together, face flushed and damp with sweat, hair disheveled and pulled away from your face, a pair of cotton shorts and an old t-shirt rolled up to the shoulders—you were a mess.
You were sad.
"Uh-oh." Steve stepped into the room, calling over the booming music. "What happened?"
You jumped a little, accustomed to the quiet of the apartment on Saturday nights. Steve almost always spent weekend nights at the bar down the street hitting on girls too sweet for him. You usually had until at least 11:30 to do whatever you wanted before some random girl came scampering in, clinging to Steve and giggling as they fumbled to his room.
But he was home early. And no matter how long you'd lived together, or how well he knew you, you still hated being seen like this.
So, you never took your eyes off the mop, scrubbing away a sauce stain on the tile.
"Nothing." You shrugged, flicking wisps of hair out of your eyes.
Steve watched you whirl around to drag the mop toward the bucket again. You stabbed it into the soapy water with a vengeance, nose scrunching with every slosh and splash. Steve leaned against the doorway and quirked a brow.
"Yeah? You're playing your sad music, though."
Your sad music consisted of a handful of hard rock records that most people would consider music for a dive bar—but you only ever played it when you were staving off tears. The louder you played it, the more upset you were.
Steve knew you a little too well.
This comment went ignored as you slapped the mop back on the floor and continued an angered scrubbing. Steve sighed, scratching at his temple. Most of the time, it was best to leave you alone. Sometimes, you needed to talk it out. It took a little coaxing—a pizza and a cold glass of Coke with a straw usually did the trick—but eventually, you'd spill.
And Steve would fix it.
Calm you down, help you figure it out, offer some advice. He gave pretty good advice for someone still struggling to get his own shit figured out.
Steve could tell from the way the song went unsung, the way you huffed every time the mop head flipped, the way you started stomping your foot when you found a stale French fry under the stove—you needed him to step in.
Pushing off the wall, Steve crossed the room and placed his hand over yours on the mop handle.
"Hey. Hey, come on."
You struggled at first, scowling at him as you tugged on the handle. "Stop it."
He sighed again. He was always sighing at you like a disappointed teacher.
"Hey." A little firmer this time, accompanied by a sharp snatch of the handle from your grasp into his. When you dropped your hands and obliged, the furrow of his brow relaxed. "Thank you. Now, why don't you go take a shower. The house is clean enough."
You frowned, wiping at the sweat on your head. "I just—"
Steve pressed his hand flat into the small of your back, steering you toward the door. "Seriously, honey, it's fine. You do stink, though."
That made your lip twitch—a semblance of a smile—with an amused little huff. You took a step toward the door, slippered feet scuffing. You looked over your shoulder toward Steve standing where you left him, still holding the mop.
He waved you off. "Go on. Take a nap, too.”
You nodded, flashing a tight-lipped smile. "Thanks, Steve."
He watched you shuffle away, shoulders slumped and eyes down as you went. He propped the mop against the kitchen counter and shook his head at the mess of cleaning supplies on the table.
When he heard the bathroom door clamp shut and the hiss of the shower head turn on, Steve rushed the front door again.
He opened it a smidge, enough to fit his head in and smile sweetly at the girl waiting in the hall picking at her nails. She perked up, stepping toward the door eagerly.
"Hey," Steve cooed, voice dripping with honey. "I'm so sorry, my roommate got sick all over. I think s-he needs to go to the doctor, so...would you mind if we raincheck?"
The girl—Sarah, as he would recall later on—broke into a concerned pout, clasping her hands over her chest. "Oh my god, that's terrible! You're so sweet taking care of him."
Steve chuckled, a breezy smile on his mouth. "Yeah, yeah. Thanks for understanding."
She tipped her head, adjusting the purse strap on her shoulder. "Of course. Call me when he's feeling better?"
Steve nodded, knowing the phone number in his back pocket would dissolve in the washer in a week, and he had no intention of ever calling her to begin with.
"Yeah, for sure. Night."
"Goodnight."
He waited until the elevator dinged, watching the doors close on her grinning face, before pulling back into the apartment and locking the door. He blew a sigh out of his cheeks, head shaking as he headed toward the hall.
The shower had stopped, and he could hear the soft, wet patters of your feet behind the door when he leaned against the wall beside it. He knocked two knuckles gently into the wood.
"Honey?" he called. "Need anything? Wanna order a pizza?"
He waited, adjusting the hem of his shirt to spread out a wrinkle in the fabric. He knew what the answer would be, but he couldn't always be so obvious. He had to pretend that he didn't know you like the back of his hand, because everyone started telling him how weird it was.
"You've lived with this girl for two years and haven't boned? You're either gay or dumb as a box of fuckin' rocks," is what Max told him when they met for lunch a few months ago.
Everyone said the same thing. His sister, who teased him at birthday parties and summer barbecues that you were always his date for. Sabrina did everything in her power to push the two of you closer together at family events, ensuring your seats were always paired and your activities were always coupled up.
"You look at her like a dog with a bone," she teased last Fourth of July.
But Steve only shook his head, glancing your way where you were helping his mother decorate cupcakes. You were dating some guy in IT at the time. Total fucking nerd. He made you pay for most of the dates.
"Nah...we're just friends. She's got a boyfriend."
We're just friends was probably Steve's most popular sentence in the English language since the day he met you. A pair of college graduates who had no clue what the hell they were supposed to do with their lives, roommate-matched by the apartment complex and so content with each other that you just kept renewing the lease.
When you finally replied to his question, your voice came like a small, pipping whisper behind the door. "Yeah...but with mushrooms this time?"
This time, as if you didn't order a mushroom and sausage pizza every time. Steve smiled, pushing off the wall.
"Okay—"
"And—"
"And sausage, I know. I'll call 'em."
"Okay."
While Steve called the pizza place a few blocks over, you clutched a towel to your chest and padded to your room. You pulled on the softest items you owned and sat on the end of your bed. A long day of cleaning certainly tired you out, but that wasn't what ailed you.
It was the fight with your boyfriend last night at the bar, when he yelled at you for laughing at Steve's jokes even though you always did. He thought you were too close, too "chummy" to be just friends.
Unbeknownst to Steve, we're just friends was one of your most common phrases, too. You should've had it engraved on your forehead at this point.
"Hey." Two knuckles on your door this time before it skittered open. Steve popped his head in and grinned at you. "Wearin' my favorite sweatpants? Must be feelin' better."
You glanced down at the black sweatpants on your legs, snickering softly. Steve thought they hugged your ass perfectly, and loved the way they flared at the calves. The logo right on your left ass cheek was especially beautiful.
When you opted to leave that soft noise as your reply, Steve stepped into the room. He flopped beside you on the bed, springs squeaking shrilly.
"Wanna talk about it?" he asked.
You shook your head down at your lap, rubbing at your eye. You hated crying, and so far today you'd been doing well swallowing them down. Steve had only seen you cry once, and you avoided him for three days after.
Something about vulnerability made you cower.
"Okay...wanna watch a movie?"
You sighed, shifting a little away from him. Steve clocked it with a brow-furrowed frown.
"Steve...you don't have to make me feel better. I'm fine."
His lips parted to reply—most likely in protest—but the door chittered on its hinges once more with the small butted head of your tuxedo cat, Ted.
Steve immediately stood and scooped Ted up, turning to bring him to the bed. He scratched under his chin and brought forth a low humming purr immediately.
Not even cats could resist that pretty boy charm.
"Well, I reckon this lil guy will do a better job of cheerin' you up," Steve cooed, plopping Ted beside you.
A quiet giggle slipped from your mouth as you reached to swoop his tail. "Reckon?"
Steve shrugged, a sheepish grin on his mouth. "Just came out. I turn Southern in a crisis, darlin'."
He was just trying to make you laugh now, and he couldn't help but mirror the sound when it proved effective. Though, it also proved temporary. You soon settled on your side, tugging Ted to your chest with a fading smile.
Steve ran his fingers through his hair, gathering a chunk of it at the top to pull. A stress tick. You tried not to feel guilty for causing it.
"Well...alright." Steve shuffled backward toward the door. "Pizza in fifteen."
You nodded into the pillow. "Okay. Thanks."
Steve lingered a beat too long, eyeing your balled up form on the bed before slipping into the hall. You'd been sad plenty times over the years: breakups, let-downs, missed jobs.
But the guy you were dating now...you really seemed to like him. He was over all the time, practically living here at one point. Steve didn't really understand what you saw in the guy—Eddie. Steve scoffed to himself, head shaking. Stupid name.
You met Eddie at the auto shop where he worked. He gave you a discount on your oil change, and his tire talk was so smooth that you went on a date two days later. Six months later, and things still seemed to be going smoothly despite the pair of you having very little in common.
Usually, you dated harmless little nerdy guys. Steve actually laughed in the face of a five foot eight finance bro who threatened to "hurt him real bad" if he got in the way of your relationship. You dumped him that night, and the pair of you still laugh about it to this day.
But Eddie was...different. Sleeves of dark ink and a chainlink on his belt. A handful of chunky silver rings and another one in his nose. He always clinked in with a nod Steve's way and a hand on your ass, and it seemed that every time he kissed you in front of Steve, he looked him right in the eye while he did it.
Steve didn't like how small you made yourself around Eddie, and he didn't like how much Eddie seemed to enjoy it.
For everyone's sake, he hoped it wasn't Eddie that made you sad. For once, he wasn't sure he'd win that fight.
✶ ✶
There were many things about your behavior that night that concerned Steve.
Number 1: You only ate three pieces of pizza, and he got one small mushroom-sausage with extra cheese just for you.
Number 2: You didn't let Ted in when he scratched at your door, and Steve had to bring him to his own room for bed.
But worst of all.
Number 3: You didn't say goodnight.
So, Steve went to bed with Ted curled at his feet and a lump in his throat. Whatever you were upset about was bad, he could just tell; and everything in him was itching to make it better. He had this terrible, stupid ache to make life easy for you, and it never really went away.
He opened all your jars, refilled all your water bottles, made sure your phone was charged when he saw the little red bar. He bought more of your favorite snacks when he saw them running low, picked up things that "felt like you" when he saw them at the store. You had an abundance of miscellaneous yellow items sitting on your windowsill because you told him it was your favorite color two years ago.
In Steve's eyes, everything yellow in the world belonged to you.
Steve stirred in a half sleep for hours, kicking at his covers and offering murmured apologies to a miffed Ted who meowed at him. His concerns, however, came to a head when the sound of muffled shouting startled him completely awake.
He grabbed his phone from the nightstand and tapped the screen, rubbing his eyes clear to read the 1:15. He wondered which couple in the building was fighting this late. His bet was on Jax and Monica in 1F who were always on the outs.
"You think I'm a fuckin' idiot? I see the way he looks at you!"
But that was Eddie's voice.
"I don't understand where this is coming from."
And that was yours.
Steve shot up, fumbling for his glasses in their case somewhere in his nightstand drawer. He shoved them over his eyes, swinging his legs over the bed.
"I'm tired of competing with your fucking roommate."
"You don't—you aren't! Eddie, please, you know we're just friends."
"Spare me. You're a shitty liar. Hey! C'mere, I'm not done talkin'."
Oh, hell no. Pants abandoned, Steve swung his door open with banging force and rushed into the hall.
He found the pair of you in the entryway, Eddie's hand around your arm and your cheeks soaked with tears. You still had your pajamas on, and those little yellow slippers Steve bought for you last Christmas.
Both heads turned when Steve hurried into the room, tailed by a confused Ted butting at his leg.
Eddie huffed, motioning toward Steve. "Oh, great, of course you're here."
Steve braced his hands on his hips, glaring at the raven-haired man. "I live here, dick-wad. Remove your hand."
Eddie ignored him, still wringing your arm out. You cast your eyes away from Steve, ashamed by the state he found you in.
"You live up my girlfriend's ass, Harrington. And I'm kinda tired of you being there all the fucking time."
"Remove. Your. Hand."
"Stop," you sniffled, wiping the tears from your cheeks though it wouldn't do much to hide the pink rims of your eyes. "Eddie, he's my friend."
"If he's gonna be your friend, then we're done."
You gaped up at him, more hot tears bubbling over and stinging your eyes. "W-what? Eddie, that's—"
Eddie shrugged, smug and uncaring. "You heard me."
Steve's eyes moved your way, and he could only stomach the absolute heartbreak on your face for a split second before he was stepping forward.
"Alright," he barked, and then he was shoving the arm Eddie was holding you with. "Let her go, Aerosmith, and get the fuck out."
Eddie let you go, but spun sharply to face Steve. You weren't sure whose glare was more frightening.
Eddie stepped until he was toe-to-toe with your roommate. "You like fuckin' another man's girl? You like my sloppy seconds, you pussy bit—"
Steve might not have been much of a fighter, certainly didn't fare well with a man who lifted cars for a living—but he certainly excelled at being discrete.
Which is how he got a right hook in before Eddie could fight back. Which is also how Eddie ended up on the ground, and unable to stand again for a few moments.
"Jesus, Steve," you scolded, peering down at your boyfriend with wide eyes. “You knocked him out!”
Steve cleared his throat, ignoring the buzzing pain in his knuckles as he swept them through his hair and motioned toward Eddie.
“Hm? Nah, honey, he’s just…he’s takin’ a nap.”
Though still numbed by shock and worry, you couldn’t help the amused snort that rippled through you. Steve’s lip quirked, and he glanced at Eddie when he groaned on the floor.
“Um, well…let’s get you up, bud. Yeah, you’re okay, c’mon.” Steve began talking to Eddie like a child, cooing as he helped him to his feet by the arm.
And maybe he wasn’t nice about walking him to the elevator, watching him crumble to the floor as the doors closed. Maybe the shiner swelling on Eddie’s cheek filled Steve with incredulous joy.
But he swallowed all of it down when he returned to the apartment and found you standing right where he left you. If you were ashamed of your tears this time, it didn’t show. You grew inconsolable, and Steve had no other thought in mind that didn’t involve picking you up and taking you back to bed.
So he did just that, letting you soak his bare chest with tears as he went. When he sat you on the bed, he tipped your head up by the chin and wiped your cheeks.
“He’s not comin’ back tonight, sweetheart, it’s okay.”
Sniffling, you let him dry your tears and pull strands of hair from the sticky residue. “He thinks we were cheating. I t-tried to tell him…that we’re just friends.”
You deflated with a hiccuped sigh, and Steve’s smile was full of pity and pain. He rubbed his thumbs into your cheeks, nodding his agreement.
“Yeah. Just friends, honey.”
Your eyes fluttered with exhaustion, and Steve swallowed thickly. He pinched the edge of your pillow to pull it down, and gently coaxed you down by the shoulders. He pulled the covers up to your chin and plucked Ted from the ground to join you on the bed.
“He ain’t worth your tears, honey. Get some sleep.”
Sniffling again, you nodded quietly. Steve flashed another smile, and stepped back toward the door. As he reached for the light switch, he glanced over his shoulder to find your eyes again.
“Goodnight, Steve,” you whispered.
He shut the light off so you wouldn’t see the way he closed his eyes, like it pained him to hear you with another cry in your throat.
“Goodnight, honey.”
Steve sat awake until 6 a.m waiting for Eddie to come to his senses and return for vengeance. But he never came. In some way, Steve knew that would hurt you even more.
So in the morning when you woke, he greeted you with a handful of sunshine yellow daffodils and your favorite coffee. A soft kiss on the head and a scratch at Ted’s chin on his way out.
“Gonna meet up with a friend today. Call me if you need me, ‘kay?”
He went home with the first girl he met at the bar that day just to get you out of his head, and lied about it when he came home.
Just friends. Yeah, right.
#rolly!#steve harrington#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fic#steve harrington angst#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington au#steve harrington blurb#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington x fem#steve harrington comfort#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington one shot#roommate!steve harrington
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❄️ Kinkmas — 11. Breeding ❄️
Neteyam x female omatikaya reader
⋆｡° ✮ Minors dni 🔞
⋆｡° ✮ Kinkmas Masterlist
⋆｡° ✮ Warnings: smut, knotting, breeding kink, mating cycles / in heat, rough sex, creampie
⋆｡° ✮ Translations: tìyawn = love
It wasn’t fair that Neteyam could still be so calm and collected, when you were reduced to a writhing mess beneath him.
But by eywa, it just felt too good to stay calm and collected.
Neteyam was long and hot and thick, and knowing him, every thrust of his cock was aimed precisely to spend the maximum amount of time sliding against your g-spot. Not that you were complaining. From the beginning he had set an unexpectedly fast, unrelenting pace, fueled by one specific thought.
"I’m gonna put a baby in you, tìyawn", was whispered into your ear, rutting into from behind until your arms and legs were shaking in their effort to hold you up. "I‘m gonna pump you so full of my cum, make you swell all nice and round with my child so everyone knows you belong to me. And you‘ll look so pretty like this."
You’re a shuddering wreck, taking the brutal pounding of your mate’s cock while your moans grew louder than your lungs should be able to muster.
"Nete– I‘m– oh eywa, it’s too much", you mewled helplessly. "M‘gonna come, fuck, I’m gonna c-come again!"
"Yeah? Come for me then", Neteyam said breathlessly, punctuating his point with a purposefully hard thrust of his hips. "Come for me and I will knot you, I will breed you just like my cock hungry little mate deserves."
Your pussy was so very sore, fucked more than raw, ripe red and ridiculously tender, but you didn’t care. You weakly pressed back against him, clenching hard around Neteyams throbbing cock as you came for what felt like the hundredths time that night.
"There’s my good girl", he praised lowly into your ear, nibbling at the sensitive lobe before he whispered, "Look at you, so pretty when you come. I think you deserve my knot now, don’t you agree? Want me to knot you, tìyawn?"
Neteyams hips only increased their pace, taking you harder, hands holding you tighter, tail coiling around your ankle to spread your legs impossibly wider. You were so full already, it was hard to imagine there’s any more room for his knot, but you want it so bad it physically hurts to not have him buried even deeper inside you.
"Neteyam", you wailed, "Neteyam, please! Pl-ease knot me! I need you, just please…"
"Keep moaning my name and I’ll give you just want you want, pretty thing", he groans his response and it doesn’t take you even a second to follow his command. His name falls from your spit slicked lips in incoherent brabbles and moans, greedily pleading for more until you finally feel it– hot and sticky, pouring inside you like molten wax, and you take every last drop of seed you’re given. If you could drink another load to help the process, you would.
Neteyam has always come so much during his ruts that you imagined you could probably bathe in it, but now that his seed has a purpose, it’s a torrential flood that threatens to pervade every centimeter of your body, and you could feel it drench your insides and pour down your thighs.
The feeling of being filled to the brim like this is like a cooling salve to the burning of your insides, the cure to your heat, but his knot is what you really need. But it’s also what threatens to turn your vision black.
"C-Can’t, I can’t! It’s too big", you whimper, fighting to hold still as his knot pushed past your entrance, but couldn’t help squirming as it grew past the point of exquisite and crossed over to too much.
It didn’t hurt per say, but there was a dull ache that you knew you would be feeling for days. You couldn’t believe that Neteyam was still coming, couldn’t imagine what that felt like to him, how overwhelming it must be, yet he seems so calm as he whispers soothing words into your ear.
"Shhh, you can take it, I know you can. Just relax for me, yes? You’re doing so good, tìyawn."
Neteyam’s knot then expanded itself so huge inside you, that you’re not sure how it’ll ever leave. Right now it felt as if you’ll be plugged with his cock until the end of time. You know, logically, that it’s for a specific purpose, that you wanted this, needed it, and that it’ll go down after a while, but at the moment, you really can’t imagine anything else. Your body has already been molded to the shape of his cock, his knot, and for a moment it hurts to think you‘ll be separated from your mate again at some point.
Your body is still trembling, still wracked with the remnants of pleasure, but Neteyam is draped so thoroughly over you, like a warm blanket, it makes you never want to leave this position again. Neteyam kisses the tip of your ear and nuzzles into your black curls, sighing happily, "My mate, you feel so good around me... I can’t wait to see you pregnant with my child, truly. But I wouldn’t mind if it didn’t take just yet, if that means I can have you like this over and over again."
He‘s now back to kissing every part of you that he can reach from his current position: your neck, ears, hair, cheek, shoulder, sometimes nipping and sometimes licking, and you squirm under the raining love, giddy in delight. "You’re insufferable", you giggle. "But even if it does take, what’s stopping us from having another, hm?"
At this, Neteyams ears perk up and his tail stands up straight in excitement.
#avatar12daysofkinkmas#Neteyam#neteyam sully#atwow neteyam#atwow#avatar the way of water#avatar 2#avatar#neteyam x female reader#avatar neteyam#neteyam smut#neteyam x female reader smut#neteyam x human reader#neteyam x reader#neteyam x na'vi!reader#neteyam x you#neteyam sully smut#neteyam x omaticaya!reader#neteyam x reader smut#neteyam x y/n
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PAIRING ! husband!sunghoon x house wife!reader
SYNOPSIS ! some domestic moments of your married life with sunghoon.
WARNINGS ! SMUT MDNI!! reader likes to bicker and scold hoonie but its bc they act like a married couple, very brief handjob, hints of shower sex, oral (f. receiving), there's a small argument moments but its like old married couple fighting, nipple sucking lmao, there's no actual sex sorry!! ALSO SORRY IF ITS BAD I WROTE THIS IN ONE SITTING
wc: 3.7K
a/n: happy early valentine's to my baby @pshaven i love you wifey mwah !
“Sunghoon, seriously, I need to leave.” you said with a huff as you tried to break free from your husband’s embrace. “Just a little bit more.” he replied, words muffled as his face was hidden in your neck. “Hoon- You know I have brunch with your mom” you reminded him “And besides that, if I stay here I won’t get out anytime soon.” you felt him smirk in your neck at your words, making you roll your eyes at him. His hands started moving inside your shirt, caressing the skin there. “Hoon! Please, let me go. I need to shower” you insisted trying to push him off. It wasn’t even 11 in the morning and he was already managing to make you annoyed. With a deep sigh he rolled onto the side, letting you go.
You walked towards the bathroom, turning the shower on and undressing yourself. You got in, feeling the warm water on your feet. You let yourself immerse in the warm feeling before getting to your shower routine, letting your muscles relax for a bit. There were very few moments where you could fully relax and take a break from the world. Even though you didn’t actually work and were just a housewife you had a lot to do around the house and you knew people didn’t really take you seriously when you said you felt tired or like you needed a vacation but maybe jealousy speaks louder volumes. It wasn’t your fault your husband chose to give you this lifestyle and the opportunity to not work.
You were in the middle of scrubbing your hair when you heard the shower door open, making you open your eyes to see Sunghoon in all his naked glory, standing there and staring at you with a smirk. “Seriously, Sunghoon?” you said closing your eyes again and returning to washing your hair. “You really aren’t giving up, huh?” You turned your back to him as you rinsed the shampoo off. He didn’t say anything but you felt his hands circle your waist as he pressed himself (and his boner) on your backside.
“Oh my God! Sunghoon, I seriously can’t be late for your mom!” you said, hands still moving on your hair. “I promise I’ll be quick, yeah?” he said as his hands moved upwards to massage your boobs, making you bite your lip and contain any sounds that tried to come out. “Yeah, no, Hoon. Sorry.” you replied turning around, now facing him. The look he was giving you usually would be enough to have you on your knees but today you swore to yourself you would be on time to meet with his mother.
“Move! I need my body wash.” you tried to sound unbothered, but the flicker of your eyes between his eyes and his cock showed him you weren’t so unaffected. He chuckled at your behaviour, grabbing you by your waist and pulling you close to connect your lips with his. Your eyes instantly fluttered close as you felt his plush lips move against yours. Your hands moved to his shoulders as you pulled him closer to you, his cock rubbing against your stomach. One of his hands made its way to your cheeks, angling your face to the side to deepen the kiss. His tongue swiped against your bottom lip asking for permission, making you moan as you felt his tongue rub against yours.
Your hand moved from his shoulder down his torso until it reached his already hard cock. You grabbed the base, moving your hand up until it reached the tip, making Sunghoon moan as he pulled away from the kiss. “Acting so hard to get for what, mnh?” he said smirking against your lips. Your hand squeezed his dick, making him hiss at the feeling. “Yeah yeah, whatever, make it quick.” you said turning around, bending over slightly for him. “I need to leave before 11:30.” Sunghoon laughed at your antics. “Wow, so romantic, baby.”
It was around 7 in the afternoon when you started making dinner. Sunghoon still hadn’t come from work and you knew he was gonna be in the office until a little later since he had texted you about an important business meeting or whatever. You decided to make his favourite dish since it has been a while since you’ve made it and you wanted to reward him for working so hard this past month.
Sunghoon’s company has been having a lot of great deals coming up and while that was good it also meant he spent longer in his office. You were worried that he was overworking himself, since you knew how he gets when there’s important stuff going on in the company. Still, Sunhoon always made sure to give you his attention whenever he could, always answering your texts and calling you in his breaks and obviously, when he got home he always gave you more than just his attention so you always try to give him rewards with your domesticity you knew he craved after long days.
The smell of homemade food filled Sunghoon’s senses as soon as he got home. A smile making its way to his lips when he caught a glimpse of you cooking, still not noticing him as your back was turned to him and you were so immersed in preparing the meal. He walked towards the kitchen, being careful not to scare you. The warm light from the top of the stove made the whole scenery look so domestic and Sunghoon wished he could take a picture of you at that moment. You must have felt his presence as you turned to look at him, already smiling up at him. He leaned down to kiss you, a happy sigh leaving his lips when he did so. When you pulled back you noticed how tired and droopy his eyes looked, making you frown a little bit.
“Everything ok, baby?” he asked, hands reaching to caress your cheek. “Yeah, Hoonie. You just look so tired.” you answered as your lips pouted slightly. He let out a deep sigh but smiled at you nonetheless. “Yeah, but it’s nothing being with my sexy wife can’t fix.” he said giving you a wide grin, making you playfully roll your eyes at him. “Shut up, dork.” you replied, turning back to the pot to get back to cooking.
A comfortable silence sat in the air and it was just you cooking and Sunghoon leaning back on the counter as he observed you carefully, unconsciously smiling to himself. “I can feel you staring at me, dude.” you told you as you kept on with the cooking. “And you had to ruin the moment.” he said rolling his eyes “And so what? Can’t I look at my beautiful wife?” he said as he moved to hold your waist from behind. “Whatever, Hoonie. Let me cook.” you said wanting your space to cook. “I’m letting you!” he said as his face moved to your neck to start peppering kisses on the area. “Sunhoon, I’m serious!” you warned but still rolled your head slightly to the side to give him more access to your neck, making him smile as he bit on the skin softly.
“If the food burns you’re paying for take-out!” you said in a warning tone but Sunghoon knew you were enjoying the attention he was giving you. “You should take a break baby.” he said grabbing you to turn around. “Sunghoon, let me fin-” you were cut off by your own squeal as he pulled you to sit on the counter. He reached to turn the stove off so the food wouldn’t actually burn and you were left staring at him dumbfounded. “Sunghoon, the food-” he cut you off by giving you a peck on the lips. “Relax, baby.” He said getting on his knees in front of you, your eyes following his every move. “Just need to taste one thing right now.” his hands reached for the hem of your sweatpants. “Can I?” he asked looking at you with his puppy eyes, making you nod eagerly at him. He pulled your pants down along with your underwear, not wasting any second to bury his face in your warm cunt.
When things weren’t so busy in the company Sunghoon would take some days to work from home. Normally, for any wife who has a busy husband, this would sound like heaven, but not to you. At least not today. Unfortunately for Sunghoon (and for you), it was cleaning day, which meant you were gonna go through all the rooms including his home office and make some noise with the vacuum cleaner which also meant it was gonna bother Sunghoon during his online meetings or distract him from work overall.
You were in the middle of vacuuming the hall which had access to his office when his door burst open, making you look at him, still vacuuming. His face sported a deep annoyed frown, making you raise a brow at him. “May I help you?” you said turning the electronic off. “Actually, yes.” he said in a very annoyed tone. “Could you not vacuum when I’m working?” you looked at him shocked that he was asking such question. “Um, no I actually can’t!” you answered starting to get just as annoyed as he was. “Y/n, I’m literally working right now and I can’t focus at all.” he said, complaining as if you weren’t working as well. “Oh! And what am I doing? Playing house? Jeez, Sunghoon, you can be quite the asshole sometimes.” you rolled your eyes at him and walked off to the living room, leaving him standing there as he watched you disappear in the corner.
Sunghoon was back in his office and it had been some good thirty minutes since your small argument and even though he was annoyed at the time he knew it wasn’t your fault and you were just doing your work. He was starting to feel bad and as much as he wanted to keep working, the heavy feeling in his chest kept reminding him to go apologise. Sighing, he rolled his chair back and leaned back, rubbing his eyes with his hands. He got up and left the office quietly, looking for you in the living room.
When he reached the room he saw you sitting on the couch as you surfed through the different TV channels, rolling his eyes and biting back a scoff when he saw you stopping on the stupid reality show you loved so much. He walked to the couch, making you look at him just for a very quick second before getting your attention back on the show. He sat next to you, thighs touching yours. His hand landed on your legs, rubbing it up and down in a comforting manner. Your eyes flickered from his face to the TV, waiting for him to say something.
“Baby…” he started “What?” you said, eyes not moving from the big screen in front of you. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I know you were working just as much as me. I’m sorry, baby.” he said, moving closer to you. “You were a little mean, not gonna lie, Sunghoon.” You said playing with a loose string in your old shirt you usually wore to clean the house. “I know I was, baby. This client was annoying me, and even though this isn’t an excuse I want you to know I didn’t mean to let it out on you.” he said as he brushed hairs that came out of your bun away from your face. “It’s ok. I forgive you, Hoonie.” you smiled up at him, curling yourself on him. His arms instantly wrapped around you, pulling you closer to his chest as he leaned down to kiss your cheek, lingering there for a while. “Stay here for a little bit?” you asked, looking up at him. “Of course, baby.”
You swore you loved Sunghoon very dearly and if there was a bad thing about marrying him it would be your inability to sleep properly without him beside you. While, yes, that was true it was also a curse because of Sunghoon’s little sleeping problem. Sunghoon snored very loudly when he was really tired which consequently pulled you out of your sweet sleep. You tried all you could think of. You covered your head with a spare pillow, you covered your ears with your hands, you elbowed him in the ribs but he wouldn’t even budge.
Annoyed you sat up on the bed and shook his arm, making him let out a hum and look at you. “Turn to the other side, you’re snoring.” you told him with furrowed brows. He let out mumbled words you couldn’t even understand, probably annoyed you interrupted his sleep but still turned around, his back now facing you. Sighing, you laid back on the bed, your head hitting the fresh silky pillow.
You felt bad for waking him up just to stop him from snoring since you knew he was probably tired from a long day at work but your sleep was also important! Your eyes fluttered shut as you felt sleep take over your body again. Just as you were about to fall asleep again a loud snore followed by a sigh made your eyes open wide.
Your hands gripped the sheets as you let out an annoyed sigh. “For fuck’s sake.” You whisper-yelled as you sat on the bed, feet blindly looking for your slippers. You grabbed your pillow and walked towards the living room to try and get some quiet sleep. Your feet dragged on the floor as you tiredly made your way to the couch. You threw your pillow on the couch and grabbed the blanket that you always threw on the armrest. You laid back down, sighing happily when you felt instantly take over you.
Sunghoon looked at the clock on his bedside table, seeing it was still a little past six. He sighed softly as he turned to your side of the bed but felt nothing but the cold of your sheets. He forced his eyes open and lifted his head when he saw you weren’t lying beside him. He rubbed the sleep off his eyes and got up to go look for you. First, he looked in your in-suite bathroom but you weren’t there. He walked barefoot through the halls until he reached the living room. There he saw you laying, curled in the white fluffy blanket you usually shared on movie nights.
Sunghoon smiled softly as he walked towards your sleeping figure. He shook your arm slightly, making you shake a little bit as you woke up. “Why aren’t you in bed, baby?” he asked when you were finally looking properly at him. “Maybe because someone was snoring like an ogre and I couldn’t sleep.” you answered in a groggy voice, making him chuckle at your response.
“What time is it?” you asked laying your head back on the pillow. “Just a little past six.” he answered “Come back to bed, yeah?” you groaned feeling comfy and warm on your couch. “Carry me?” you asked, smiling and extending your arms towards him. He smiled and shook his head but still crouched to grab you and carry you to bed, kissing your head in the process as you both made your way to your shared room.
The weekend had finally arrived and you and Sunghoon had been waiting for a day like this since forever. You both woke up late and had homemade brunch and were now lying on your shared bed watching movies and just talking with each other. You were cuddled on his chest and he had his arm wrapped around you as you both seemed to be immersed in a random romcom playing on the screen in front of you. Both of you had been quiet for a while, the only thing heard was the movie playing.
You were starting to get bored of the same rom-com plot playing over and over in each movie. You rolled your head back against Sunghoon’s shoulder and just stared at him, admiring his perfect features. He was so into the movie he probably didn’t even notice you staring. It was in moments like this that you wondered how could have you bagged a husband and man like him. Your eyes moved from his plump lips to his perfect straight nose that you loved to sit on so much.
You were getting needy for his attention so you started to leave love bites on his neck, making him look at you with a surprised look. You smiled up at him, making him mirror your expression as you kissed the spots you previously bit, soothing the red marks. “‘M bored, Hoonie.” you whined as you pressed your face in his chest. “You want to change the movie?” he asked, grabbing the controller. “No!” you said sitting up “I’m bored.” you said again but emphasizing the bored with a suggestive tone. His eyes widened in realization but his expression quickly changed to a playful one.
Sunghoon said nothing as he laid you against the many pillows displayed on your bed, making you let out a squeal. “And what does Miss wanna do, mnh?” he asked, biting his lip as his hands slipped inside your shirt, caressing your stomach. “I don’t know, Hoonie…” you said giggling as you spread your legs further so he could fit in between them. “Then I don’t think there’s anything I can do, baby.” He said sitting on his knees, making you whine at him. “Hoon, please!” you begged not really sure for what. “Tell me, baby. What do you want, mnh?” he said hovering over you again. “Just do anything! Please!” You said grabbing him by his nape.
He pulled your shirt up, letting it rest just above your breasts. The sight was enough to make him feel himself become hard in his sweats. He took one of your nipples in his mouth as his hand played with the other. You moaned at the delicious feeling, your fingers tangling themselves in his hair as you squirmed against the bed. “Hoon…” you moaned when you felt him graze his teeth on your sensitive nub. He pulled away to suck on the other nipple, giving it the same treatment as the other, a string of his spit falling on the valley of your breasts.
“Please, Hoonie, need more!” you whined softly, grinding your clothed pussy against his stomach. Sunghoon pulled away from your breasts to look at you. Cheeks blushed, eyes shiny and lips parted. Even though you have been married for almost three years now, you never failed to impress him with your beauty. He smiled at you, leaning down to peck your lips multiple times as he giggled like a fool in love (exactly what he was). You felt your cheeks warm up at his antics, giggling at the feeling of his lips on yours. “Whatever my baby wants.” he said moving south.
Thankfully you hadn’t worn any pants underneath your shirt so he had easier access to your panties. He buried his nose in your clothed cunt, giving it a lick through your panties, making you moan and grind against his face. “H-hoon!” you moaned quietly. His hands caressed your thighs, moving upwards as he reached for the hem of your underwear. “Can I, angel?” he asked for your consent, making you nod at him. He pulled your panties off of you, revealing your glistening cunt to him. He let out a shaky sigh at the sight of your bare cunt on display wet just for him.
He used his thumbs to spread your folds, revealing you fully to him and lowered himself on you, moaning when your sweet juices hit his taste buds. His tongue licked a stripe from your hole to your clit, sucking on the little bundle of nerves, making you let out a breathy moan as you grinded against his face, smothering him in your essence. “Hoon, fuck!” you moaned loudly as you felt his tongue flickering your clit. “Shit! So good. Hoon!” He moaned in satisfaction, grinding against the mattress, trying to get some relief of his own. His tongue moved to your hole, slurping on your wetness.
Sunghoon felt like he was ascending to heaven as he inserted his tongue in your hole, feeling more of you. You kept moaning and grinding on him, fingers pulling him closer to your cunt. Slurping sounds along with your moans and whines were all that was heard in the quiet room as he immersed himself in your pussy. His tongue alternated from sucking to flicking on your clit when he felt your hole clench repeatedly, meaning you were about to cum. “Hoon! Please, don’t stop!” you moaned out loud. He could also feel himself come close to his own release as he kept grinding himself against your sheets.
His hands moved from your folds to embrace your thighs to pull himself even closer to your cunt. His tongue started moving faster on your now sensitive nub. “Shit, Hoon! S-So close!” you screamed as you felt your body twitch. He seemed to suck even harder on your clit, motivated to bring you your sweet release. With a couple more flicks of his tongue, you felt the oxygen being knocked out of your lungs as your body stilled and your vision turned white. “F-Fuck, Hoon!” You moaned as you came on his tongue, hole clenching uncontrollably as his tongue now moved to your hole to slurp at the juices that were starting to drip out of you.
It also didn’t take him long to cum as he felt your hole clench around his tongue, his body shaking as he felt his sticky release stain his underwear. With a final suck, he pulled away from your pussy to not overstimulate you. You lay there, panting as you came down from your high. His face was covered in your slick and a smile adorned his lips, making you giggle at the way he looked like a lovesick puppy. “Thank you, Hoonie.” you said, pulling him down to peck his lips. “Everything for my princess.” he replied as he kissed you again before getting up to prepare you a bath.
#enhypen x reader#sunghoon x reader#enhypen smut#sunghoon smut#enhypen hard hours#sunghoon hard hours#sunghoon fluff#enhypen fluff#enhypen fanfiction#sunghoon fanfiction#enhypen imagines#sunghoon imagines#lee heeseung smut#jongseong smut#sim jake smut#jake sim smut#heeseung x reader#jongseong x reader#sim jake x reader#jake sim x reader
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woven in cartier
pairing: miguel o’hara x fem reader
contents: one bed (i love that trope sry not sry), miguel teaches reader spanish 🥸, fingering (yes again), nipple play, and oral (f receiving)
author’s note: sugar daddy miguel just has a special place in my heart as a broke college student 😫
word count: 5k
million dollar man (part one)
Miguel had gotten the flights for Cabo late since he figured you two could just start sightseeing in the morning. Despite the fact that you assured him arriving an hour beforehand was good enough to get the whole check-in process done, he still insisted on arriving three hours early to the airport. You held back from teasing him when he complained about the two hours that the two of you had to wait for loading, though you couldn't help the self-satisfied smile that came across your face. "Ay okay, I get it. I'll shorten the time to an hour and a half next time," he told you, poking your cheek after noticing your expression.
"Do you mind putting my suitcase up there?" You asked him, taking advantage of how easy it would be for him to just extend his hands and reach the overhead bin. "Yeah, just go ahead and take a seat," he responded, taking your carry-on and setting it up there with his own. You buckled yourself in the seat, the amount of space in the first class area allowing for you to recline back as much as you wanted.
You would've never been able to picture a couple months ago that the first time you'd be flying would be in first class, or that you'd even be going out to a vacation at all. You couldn't help but think back on all the worry you'd had when you first joined the website, the thought almost amusing now that you're here with Miguel.
"Hey, you okay?" Miguel's voice seemed like the calm in the storm, his voice serving as something that grounded you. "It's just my first time flying, I'll get over it," you assured him, your leg bouncing up and down at the anticipation of when it would take off. miguel reached over, his hand clasping over yours as his thumb ran small circles over your fingers.
"You'll be fine, don't worry. I've got you, mi cielo. Let me know if you need to pop your ears or anything, I got some gum back at the gift shop," he whispered, his voice just soothing enough to calm you down. You nodded, taking a couple of deep breaths as the plane started to move down the runaway.
You tapped on his shoulder after a couple minutes of being up in the air, asking him for the piece of gum now. He took the pack out of his pocket, handing it over to you. You grabbed one of the pieces, unraveling the gum out from the plastic packaging and stuck it in your mouth in hopes that it would ease with the change in altitude.
You handed the pack of gum back to him, his attention on you just to make sure that the sensation wasn't too bad. After a couple minutes of chewing, the pressure in your ears began to build up before eventually releasing in a 'pop.' You were able to relax with much more ease, your head resting against Miguel's until you eventually fell asleep.
"Hey, wake up. You slept for most of the ride," you heard in the distance, your eyes opening up to see that the plane was slowly beginning its descent into the airport. "Thanks for letting me sleep on your shoulder, I hope it wasn't too uncomfortable for you," you told him, rubbing your eyes as you tried to get rid of the tired feeling coursing throughout your body.
"You don't need to thank me, I'd give you everything that your little heart desired and more if you asked," he told you, unbuckling his seatbelt once the light above the two of you turned on. "The time's 11:39 PM and we just landed in Cabo San Lucas, Mexico. Please stay seated until the plane has come to an immediate stop," you heard above you, the pilot's voice coming through the small speaker.
"Swear I told them to give us two beds," Miguel spoke up after coming inside the hotel room to only notice one king sized bed in the middle of the bed. The two of you had touched on some lines of intimacy, but it'd never went as far to where the two of you shared a bed together. "I don't mind if you don't mind. Plus I'm guessing that all the rooms are full," you assured him, placing your suitcase in the corner of the room.
"You sure? I don't wanna push you into anything you're not ready for," he told you, setting his suitcase down next to yours. "I don't mind like I said, plus you'll be like my own body heater," you teased, taking your pajamas out of your suitcase and heading into the bathroom to change.
Despite the fact that he'd fingered you inside of a dressing room and almost made you cum, changing in front of him and sharing a bed almost seemed like something too intimate for the situation the two of you were in. But, you couldn't imagine yourself wanting to do these things with anyone else after experiencing what Miguel is like.
You came back to see that Miguel had changed into a pair of grey sweats, his upper body completely exposed to your ogling eyes. You saw a pendant hanging around his neck, a image of the little girl you'd seen around his house inside. His upper body was hairy in a way that didn't make him seem unkempt, but rather made him even more attractive if that was even possible.
You laid down next to him, the feeling of the sheets underneath you cooling down the warmth that lit up inside you just by being in such close contact with Miguel. "You don't have to sleep by the edge, ven pa' acá," he spoke gently, his arms inviting you to sleep closer to him when you turned to face him. (come over here) You scooted over next to him, his hands wrapping closely around you as he kissed your forehead.
"You sure this is okay? I can sleep on that sofa if you want me to," he murmured, his eyes meeting yours as he waited for your response. Your eyes drifted over to the sofa on the corner of the room, the size of it looking like it would barely fit you comfortably. "You'd probably fall and break your hip, old man. I like having you next to me anyways," you told him, your head nestled against his chest.
"Buenos dias. We're going out to a dolphin boat ride later just so you know," Miguel greeted you as you opened your eyes, the smell of pancakes overtaking your nostrils. You sat up on the bed, noticing that Miguel had brought you breakfast and set it down on the nightstand next to you. A combination of eggs and pancakes along with a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. You figured you might as well indulge in it while it was still warm before getting in the shower to get ready.
"Thanks," you spoke up, letting out a yawn before getting up from the bed. You sat down on the sofa with your plate of food, savoring the taste of the pancakes with every bite that you took. You'd never get accustomed to the feeling of living luxuriously, no matter if it was something as minuscule as just eating pancakes. Miguel laid down on the bed and scrolled through the tv, wearing a white t-shirt along with the grey sweats from last night. You weren't sure of why, but just the thought that he woke up and immediately got dressed just to get you breakfast caused butterflies to take flight in your stomach.
You heard the bathroom door close behind you but you didn't think too much about it, Miguel's hands finding your waist once you finished getting undressed. "Do you mind if I join you in the shower? It'll be less of a water waste, y'know," he asked you, his hands forming small circles on your waist.
You were already pretty certain you did want him in there, but the way that his touch electrified your skin with every caress turned that into a definite yes. "I mean since you're offering to save the planet, what kind of monster would I be if I said no," you told him with a teasing tone in your voice, opening the curtain to get in. He followed suit behind you, letting out a small chuckle at your words.
"Look at us being quite the environmentalists," he retorted, the cool water hitting both of you when you turned on the faucet. The water pressure was much more different than what you were used to, even that was much better than the shitty shower head you had back at your place. You were surprised to find the soap that you used, turning around to look at Miguel with a raised brow.
"No era nada, I was just in the store and I was aware of the trip. Thought you might've liked to have your soap than the standard bar of soap," he brushed it off, dismissing it as if it weren't a big deal. (it wasn't anything) But for someone who hadn't had that kind of effort out into them, it was a gesture that you appreciated.
"Would spend every last penny in my bank account if it meant i got to see you like this everyday," he mumbled against your neck, his hands coming up to your breasts. You moved your head back to give him more access to your neck, his lips eager to take every inch that you were giving him.
His thumbs pinched your nipples as his lips hovered above your neck, his lips closing around your pulse point as he kissed it. You could feel yourself forming into putty just by the motion of his hands, the way that he was touching you was too enticing to not give in. His mouth moved down to your breasts, engulfing your left one as his hand played with your right one.
His movements were in sync, his tongue rolling around your nipple around the same time that his thumb and pointer pinched around the other one. Your hands went down to his wet hair, the strands at the ends taking their natural wavy form. Your fingers dug into his scalp, but he didn't seem to mind the sting given the moan he released around your nipple.
He pressed a kiss to your breast before exchanging places with his hand, his tongue swirling around your right areola with the same eagerness that he'd shown for the other one. "Don't stop, please," you whined, the pleasure that he was providing your nipples going down to your cunt.
"Get against the wall for me, mamita," he told you, pulling away from your breast with a 'pop.' You did as told, his hands spreading your ass apart once he'd kneeled down. His tongue lapped up the slick that was leaking out of you from the attention he'd given to your nipples, running a stripe up from your hole to your clit. His tongue plunged inside of your vagina, eagerly lapping at the slick dripping down out of you.
His tongue came up to your clit, swirling around the nub before his mouth connected to it. He started to suck on your clit, his tongue occasionally moving around it while his finger went into you. Your slick coated his finger every time he pushed it in and out of you, the angle that he was curling it allowing stimulation to your g-spot.
"Oh fuck," you muttered underneath your breath, your body pressed up against the cold tiles while he kneeled behind you. His tongue felt like the most delicious form of torture, each swipe getting you closer and closer to cloud nine. The feeling of the cold water hitting your body as well as the warmth you felt igniting inside of you as he buried his head into your pussy was enough to make you delirious. You felt yourself getting closer and closer to that orgasm, your hips pushing back against miguel's face to meet his movements. "Miguel, you told me to alert you thirty minutes before the boat ride," you heard Lyla, Miguel's phone assistant chime in.
The moment was ruined the second that Lyla spoke up, Miguel's head removing itself from your cunt as he stood up. "Alright, thank you," he spoke loudly enough for the assistant to recognize, the alarm that he'd set up turning off. "Now I'm starting to feel like you're doing all this on purpose," you grumbled, getting off from the wall as you reluctantly reached for the bottle of body wash. "Maybe I am. It's so fun seeing you get all annoyed when your orgasm gets ripped away," he responded, his eyes crinkling in amusement at the glare you gave him. He lathered some soap onto your back, his large hands rubbing it in effectively.
You got dressed in a rush as the alarm on his phone kept beeping, alerting that the two of you would be dangerously close to missing the ride. You grabbed the Chanel bag that he'd bought beforehand, following Miguel out of the hotel. You could've sworn the ghost of a smile creeped up on his face when he saw you with the purse, the color coordinated with the outfit you'd chosen for today. The two of you managed to arrive at the dock before the boat had a chance to take off, the tour guide giving you both a dirty look as they let you guys in.
The boat took off shortly after the two of you sat down, the tour guide speaking through the megaphone about what you assumed were some of the landmarks in the area. After seeing your puzzled expression, Miguel took it upon himself to be your translator of sorts.
"He's just saying that they offer swimming with dolphins after the tour if you're interested in that," Miguel finished up, the boat slowing down as some dolphins came out into view. "Y'know, they're actually pretty cruel animals so I don't get the whole excitement," Miguel muttered in your ear, his hands wrapped around your waist as he stood behind you while you pointed the dolphins out. "You're the one who paid for this so don't blame me for getting excited."
"¿Quieren una foto juntos?" you heard from behind you, a woman looking at the two of you with a smile. (you guys want a picture?) "Si no es mucho problema," Miguel told the woman, passing her the cellphone with the camera app already set up. (if it's not too much of a problem) Miguel kneeled down a bit to be at your level, his arm wrapping around your shoulders as he smiled.
As corny as it was, a dolphin managed to jump up at the same time that the woman clicked on the camera. "Muchas gracias," Miguel thanked the woman after she was done, the woman shrugging it off with a smile. "No era problema. Ustedes me hacen acordar de mi marido y yo." (it wasn't a problem. you guys remind me of my husband and me)
The rest of the boat ride was pretty peaceful, the currents proving to be pretty weak at this time of the day. You went with Miguel down to the bar when the boat turned around to head back to the dock, sitting down on the stool next to him. "Hola, ¿Qué tal? Me puede dar uno de tequila porfa," Miguel ordered, the bartender nodding and getting to work immediately. (hey, how's it going? can i get one of tequila please)
"What do you want to drink?" Miguel asked, turning to look at you as you glanced through the menu board. "I'll just get a virgin cosmo," you responded, looking up from the drink board over to him. You couldn't help but feel a bit of at a disadvantage hearing Miguel speak so fluently with the people around him while you were left to try to piece the words together.
"You mind if I ask why you chose Cabo out of all the vacation spots? Just curious why you chose this one," you inquired, taking a sip from your cocktail before shifting your attention up to him. He stayed quiet, his gaze going from you to the boat windows before he took a swig of his drink.
"I chose Cabo because it was my daughter's favorite place to come to. Before she passed away, I took her to different vacation destinations such as Greece and Italy but she took a liking to this place. Despite it being a tourist spot, I'm guessing it's because it helped her connect to her roots more," he responded after a couple seconds, his gaze coming back over to you after he was finished speaking.
"I know I haven't really spoken to you about her all that much, partly because it just hurts so much to think about her in the past tense. Like as a memory rather than a person. But you're a special part of my life now, and I thought you would've liked to know more about her," he added, his hands playing with the rim of his glass.
You reached over, holding his hands in between your own. "I'd like to know as much as you feel comfortable sharing. Take things at your own pace, there's no time limit for how long you grieve her," You hoped your words were reassuring enough, since you didn't have any experience when it came to dealing with loss at that level.
"I appreciate the fact that you're willing to even listen. I know that you didn't exactly agree to be hearing about this kind of trauma when you signed up for that website," he seemed almost guilty in the way that he spoke, like he regretted sharing the burden with you.
"It may not be what I signed up for, but it doesn't mean that I see you any differently. If anything, I just see you as more resilient. Please don't ever hesitate in talking to me about what you're feeling," you assured him, bringing his hand up to your mouth and pressing a kiss. He seemed to appreciate the gesture, giving you one of his rare smiles before going back to drinking his tequila.
The two of you went back out to the boat deck as the trip was coming to an end, enjoying the feeling of the light breeze against your skin. His hand was resting on your thigh throughout the duration, his touch only adding to the feeling of relaxation that you felt.
The boat stopped by the dock, Miguel allowing for the rest of the guests to get out before he helped you up. He held your hand and guided you back to the hotel, his pace matching yours so as to not rush you. "You wanna out to the hotel jacuzzi? You were really excited to put on that new bathing suit you bought," he asked you, referring to the new Louis Vuitton one you'd bought a couple months back.
"Yeah, we can do that. I might need you to help me pick one out since I bought a new one from Victoria Secret the last time we went," you responded, following him inside the elevator once it opened. "Surprised you managed to get any shopping done during that last trip," he mumbled underneath his breath, pressing the button for the fourth floor.
You felt a bit flustered as he brought that back up, since the two of you just kept brushing over the sexual tension like it wasn't anything too serious. "Surprised you came up with that lie so fast," you tried to tease him back, but your words didn't have the same effect that his did. He let out a small laugh, following you out of the elevator as the two of you headed to them room.
You placed the two sets in front of him, hoping that he’d give you a concrete answer to settle your dilemma. "Well, I think they'd both look good on you," he offered his bit of advice though it wasn't helpful to you while you were struggling. "That doesn't make the decision any easier. just help me pick one out," you practically whined, his expression remaining the same as he leaned against the headboard.
"Think I'll have to see you try them on just to make a good decision," he suggested, the smirk on his face doing nothing to hide the eagerness he felt towards that idea. You picked up the Louis one, changing in the bathroom before coming out to show him. You even went as far as doing a little twirl, receiving a whistle as a form of approval.
After doing the same with the Victoria Secret one, he seemed to be thinking about the decision harder than the last time you'd asked. "Go with the first one, you should save the one you're wearing right now for the beach tomorrow," he finally spoke, seeming to come to the conclusion that you'd made originally. You took off the set you were wearing now and changed into the Louis Vuitton one, coming back to see him changed into a pair of black swim trunks. He grabbed a towel and some flip flops for the both of you, locking the door once the two of you were outside.
You sat in between his legs, the warm jets hitting your skin to ease some of the tension that'd built up during your exams week. You leaned back against him, closing your eyes as you allowed yourself to just bask in his company for the time being. His hand gently traced circles on your thigh, your legs opening to give him as much access as he needed.
"So needy for me, muñequita. I left you all high and dry in the shower earlier hm?" His voice dropped an octave as he whispered into your ear, his hand coming to your inner thigh. You could only nod as his hand pushed the material of your bikini to the side, your cunt exposed for him.
You muffled a moan when Miguel turned one of the jets on, the water pressure hitting your clit at the angle that you were sitting at. "Answer me or I won't touch you, chula. Are you that needy just to have my fingers inside you?" He asked, his fingers just barely hovering above your vagina.
"Yes! Please, I've been thinking it about it since the shower. Could barely focus on those damn dolphins!" You exclaimed, eliciting a chuckle from him in response. He inserted one of his fingers into you, the water pressure proving itself to be a bit difficult. He quickly adjusted to that, establishing a good rhythm as he pushed his finger in and out of you.
His hand pulled away from your cunt abruptly as the door to the jacuzzi room opened up, a couple around your age appearing. They seemed to have a disappointed look on their face upon seeing you and Miguel, like they were planning on doing the same thing you'd done with him prior. "Think we ruined their plans," Miguel murmured in your ear when they walked away, thinking the same thing you had.
"Serves them for ruining our plans," you responded, feeling his erection hit your back the more you leaned into him. Despite the fact that he had a very evident hard on at this point, he did nothing to act upon it. The two of you decided to head back into the hotel room after the water had cooled down, your frustration evident when you stepped into the shower to freshen up.
"Hey, would you mind teaching me Spanish?" You asked him after the two of you finished showering, mostly doing nothing except relaxing in bed. "Any specific reason why you want to learn?" He inquired, looking over at you expectantly. "It's just, I feel like if im here in Mexico, I should at least do the minimum and learn a bit of Spanish instead of expecting everyone to be accommodating," you explained, his expression softening up a bit as he sat next to you.
"Alright, we're gonna go over some basic phrases just so you can get around. Now, I do have to say that it does change from region to region. Like while something means kid in one area, it can mean a completely different thing in another one," he let you know before he started with the mini lesson.
"Okay, so when you're speaking to someone with authority or someone older than you, you want to use 'usted.' But if you're talking to someone casually, like you're doing to me, then you can use 'tú.' It's more about respect than anything else," he started off, waiting for you to finish typing it out in your notes app before he started to speak once more. He went on to talk about how mostly everything was gendered in the language, with a few exceptions. Truth be told, he was proving to be more patient at this tutoring thing than you would've imagined.
"'¿Donde esta el baño?' is how you ask where the bathroom is, 'damas' or 'mujeres' indicates that it's for women," he added, gesturing for you to repeat what he was telling you. You couldn't help but notice the difference between the two of you as you spoke, the accent making all the difference. despite the fact, Miguel still looked proud of you for making the effort. "I know rolling the r's can be kind of difficult but it does kinda change what the topic you're talking about. Like with perra, you have to roll them otherwise it just sounds like you're asking for a fruit," he continued on, your notes app quickly filling up with the notes he was giving you.
"You're doing better than most tourists, don't worry. At least you're taking the initiative in trying to learn," he assured you, rubbing small circles on your back as you laid on your stomach. "You sure?" You were unsure of how well you were doing, since no matter how hard you'd tried in the past hour, you couldn't get the words to sound the same way that he made them sound. Though you knew that he had more experience with the language growing up, a part of you also felt a bit defeated from not being able to master the simple sentences that he'd given you earlier.
"You're not gonna learn it today, it's gonna take time. I'm willing to keep teaching you if that's something you want," he offered, like he wasn't already buried under enough responsibilities as it was at work. "I'll always make time for you, cielito lindo. Tu me importas mas que esos viejos arrugados del trabajo," he told you after you expressed your concern with how busy he was. (you matter more to me than those wrinkly old men from work) The two of you stayed quiet for a couple minutes, his hand gently running circles on your back. "Do you mind standing up for me? I have somewhat of a surprise for you," his request came out of the blue, but you obliged and got up from the bed.
"Stay still and close your eyes for me, muñeca," he told you, your eyes shutting once he was finished speaking. You were relying on your hearing to discern what he was doing, listening to the way that the bed creaked as he got up and the sound of the drawers opening.
You felt his body warmth behind you before he even touched you, your body being able to discern him in any environment you were in. "Alright, don't flinch. Got a snake in my hands," he muttered, his words eliciting a feeling of fear inside of you. You felt a cold metal against your chest, a small shiver running down your spine at the contact. "Alright, you can open your eyes now," he told you, stepping back to gauge for your reaction.
You were half-expecting him to be serious about the snake but when you looked down, you saw a gold necklace on you, his name adorning your neck. "I got the idea after seeing you with the nail. I wanted to get it in mexico since I wasn't too sure about the gold quality back in the states. I hope it's not too much," he told you, your hand coming up to touch the necklace like you wanted to make sure that it was real.
You turned around and faced him, a smile on your face as you hugged him. He still wasn't too good at receiving these sudden embraces, but he was getting better at being able to reciprocate them. His arms came down to your waist, holding you close to his body for a couple seconds. “I love it, thank you."
The words that you wanted to tell him were that you were starting to fall in love with him, but you decided to restrain yourself from admitting it. Swallowing them down felt like swallowing a bunch of dirt, the admission almost threatening to burst out of you with every day that passed by. You knew that you liked to spend time with him, but you never imagined that it would escalate to love.
The last thing that you needed to hear was that every gesture that he'd done was solely out of providing with his responsibility as a sugar daddy, that he only saw this as what it originally was. A transaction. How funny that you'd thought you'd be the one taking advantage of their feelings, without the consideration that you might be the one to catch feelings too.
You knew that Miguel had a tendency to destruct relationships whenever he felt like he was getting too close to a person, that he had enough on his shoulders without having to worry about his actions might inconvenience someone else. So you decided to simply settle for just being his sugar baby, despite how much you longed for his company in even the most mundane tasks.
The truth was a hard pill to swallow, knowing that you couldn't do anything about the love that was developing towards him despite the fact that every bone in your body was telling you to fuck the consequences and just admit it. But, you preferred to be in his life repressing these feelings than running the risk of just not being in his life at all.
#muchosbesitos#miguel o’hara#miguel o’hara smut#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o’hara x y/n#miguel o’hara x you#smut#miguel o’hara spiderman 2099#miguel o’hara across the spider verse#miguel o’hara fic#miguel o’hara imagine#miguel o’hara fanfiction#spiderman 2099 smut#spiderman 2099#spiderman smut#atsv miguel#miguel atsv#miguel 2099#miguel fanfic#miguel ohara#miguel spiderman#miguel x y/n#miguel x you#miguel spiderverse#miguel x reader#miguel smut#miguel fic#miguel imagine#spiderman across the spiderverse#spiderman atsv
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