#and it's easy to say you weren't going to do it after everything's settled | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

zyafics · 14 days

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play fake | part seven

series play fake — ( masterlist )

pairing rafe cameron x female reader

summary when rafe cameron needs to secure a gf in order for his father to see him as a stable man, he enlists the help of a bartender who wants nothing to do with him.

content 18+, eventual smut, angst, fake-dating, jealousy, people-pleasing and independent! female reader, ward cameron pinning rafe and sarah against each other, rafe being an asshole

𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃 ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚

It's easy for you to pretend everything's fine.

You've been worried about the whole Aaron situation for the past week, but you couldn't let that be known. You were handling it—best you could—but, at least, it sets your priorities a bit straighter. You realize whatever the outcome is, you need Rafe to get this job.

So, you were going to play the hell out of the girlfriend role.

To get ready, Rafe picks you up from Sailor to take you to Tannyhill. This time, when you got into the car, it was met with complete silence.

"Hey," you greet, to which Rafe says nothing as he reverses out of the lot and returns to the road. You remember that Rafe doesn't function normally whenever he has these types of events. He's probably nervous about the upcoming gala, a need to impress his father once more and prove to Ward that he's capable. You don't hold it against him. "Okay, then."

You settle back against the leather seat. You weren't going to let him ruin your performance; the curated mood you set up for tonight. You were going to hold out till the gala was over.

Rafe glances over to you once he knows you're looking away. Your chin tucked in your palm as you watch the scenery outside the window. Something pinch in his chest.

His right hand slides over your thigh, exposed from your short work attire, and the warm touch surprises you. You turn back to the blond, tilting your head with a small smile. "Ready to talk to me?"

"Don't push it."

You laugh and the tension in his shoulders loosens. The sound always feels like a constant mark of normalcy.

"Who's watching your sisters tonight?"

"Huh?" You respond, the question caught you off-guard and you wonder if you misheard him. "Oh. Oh. I got a babysitter for them. They should be fine till tomorrow."

He nods, knowing he shouldn’t have asked but having done it anyway. "You could've let them stay at Tannyhill. I have people to watch them for free."

He pauses, holding his breath as he waits for your response. Very few people get this offer and the fear of rejection hangs over him.

"Nice try, darling," you tease, falling back to a sense of comfort, "but I'm fine. I got it figured out."

He‘s not surprised by your answer, but it annoys him nonetheless.

When you reach Tannyhill, you didn't bother to wait for Rafe to give you the boyfriend experience. You knew he wouldn't. Instead, you went ahead and opened the car door yourself, heading straight for the porch.

Rafe was just about to cross over to the passenger side.

Following suit, he unlocks the front door and grants you entry. You step inside, reveling in the details of the estate. Despite only being here a few times, you can recall the key pieces of the house—the crystal chandelier with dangling pendants, the cabinets of beautiful collector items from the Bahamas, the flowery display that Rose curates in her free time. You immediately check off all their placement in your head, strolling over to the staircase to ascend.

"Know your way around my house, huh?" Rafe taunts, sticking his hands in his pockets. You glance over your shoulders with an easy grin.

"Just trying to take notes for the next Mrs. Cameron. Don't worry, it's not for me." You wink, turning back around before you notice the way his smile falls flat.

Reaching Rafe's bedroom, you step into the familiar space and eyed it with suspicion. From social media, you saw that Rafe went to a party right after hooking up with you the other day. You will never admit it to him but you wanted to catch if there's any evidence of another woman.

But instead of finding a pair of panties on the floor, you find the red tulips sitting on his desk. Your guards lower.

After he gifted them to you, you cut off the ends and put it in a glass vase in hopes of rejuvenating the flowers. It worked. You nearly forgot about it since you haven't visited since that day, but you were surprised he kept it after all this time.

You turn around to Rafe once he enters. "You like tulips now?" You tease, to which he glances over to the bouquet.

"I forgot to throw them away."

"Sure." You hum, partially unconvinced but deciding not to take any deeper meaning to it. He probably did. "Well, I'm going to go get ready."

You head into the ensuite, dropping your bags on the floor. As you change into your dress, curl your hair, and put on your makeup, you realize you forgot your lipstick.

Searching through your bag and throwing out used brushes into the sink, leaving a powdered mess, you still couldn't find it anywhere. You frown, "dammit."

Your attire feels incomplete without it, but you're not going to cry over this miscalculation. Stepping out, you find Rafe, fitted with his tailored black suit, sitting at his desk and reading a file in his hands. His concentration breaks when he hears you exit.

His eyes scan over your figure and, while he knows he's already seen you in this before, it does nothing to minimize how captivating you truly look in the dress. The dress he bought. "You look amazing," he murmurs, causing heat to rise to your cheeks.

"Thank you." You say with a laugh, uncomfortable at the way his attention is set on you. You need to expel it. "Unfortunately, I don't have any lipstick on. I probably left it at home."

"You mean this?" He picks something off his counter and holds it out to you and, lo and behold, it was your lipstick.

"Where'd you get that?"

"You left it here," he declares, lifting to his feet and approaching you with it. "The maids were going to throw it away but I assumed that..." He trails off, his eyes finding yours.

"That I wouldn't be able to afford another one?" You supply with a forced smile, knowing it squeezes your chest at how Rafe sees you. A Pogue who can't afford many luxuries. "Don't worry, Kook, it's like seven dollars, I would've bought another one."

That wasn't what he meant.

He remembered that you didn't let him buy you another one so he figured you wouldn't allow him to replace it either. But, he didn't know how to say that without coming off pathetic.

Instead, he returned it to its rightful owner.

Grateful, you take it out of his hand and begin to apply it right there. He watches you as you do, the freshness of plump lips replaced with a coat of red. "How'd I look?"

Kissable. Rafe swallows hard, tearing his eyes away and finding the empty space around your neck.

"Where's your necklace?"

You twist the cap back on the lipstick, tipping your head to the bathroom. "In there. I was going to put it on later."

"Let me put it on for you."

You blink up at him from the sudden offer. "You want to?"

He shrugs. He feels like he's playing a silent dance with you, hoping you’ll take the next step.

A small smile curls on your scarlet-stained lips and a flutter of butterflies release in your stomach. "Okay, come on," you take his hand, pulling him in front of the sink where you left your brushes, "don't worry about that, I'll clean it later."

Rafe honestly didn't mind. He likes the idea of you making a mess in his bathroom, the counter littered with your things. It shows that you were here. "Make sure to make it spotless. I don't want to see this shit tomorrow."

You roll your eyes and pull out the small box wrapped with a golden ribbon. "Yes, darling," you say with a mock, "would never want to disappoint the Kook prince."

He's used to feeling pride in being from Figure Eight, but something about the way you use Kook makes him wish he wasn't.

You take out the necklace from the box, internally reprimanding yourself at how expensive the piece is—knowing how it could be well-spent paying back Aaron—before handing it over to Rafe.

He places it over your neckline, pushing your styled hair to the side for full exposure. You watch him through the mirror, his concentration pinned on clasping the small hole.

"What were you working on?" You ask, filling in the silence as you refer to the file.

"A case for my dad." He explains, frustration slowly building in him because the hook won't puncture through the complicated loop. "He wants to close this deal tonight with one of his partners but they're refusing to budge."

You nod just as you hear him release a swear under his breath, his brows crinkled together and his patience thinning. You know the look. "It's okay," you comfort with a gentle tone, "take your time. It's not going anywhere."

It won't slip through. "I should've gotten you another necklace."

"I guess someone should've listened to me." You tease with a chuckle. Rafe flicks his gaze to meet yours in the reflection, watching your smile, no judgment in sight. His shoulders slacken a bit. "I guess it proves that you should always listen to your girlfriend. What's that saying? Happy wife, happy life?"

"We're not fucking married." He announces bluntly without much thought, his focus too wrapped up on the stupid chain. Your smile falters. Right, you got too carried away in your role. He clasps the ends together. "Finally."

You nod your head in gratitude as you silently slip out of the bathroom once again, making your way to the dresser where you left your purse. Your eyes gloss over the opened file on the desk and you stop in your tracks.

"Wait, I know him." You point to the paperwork, glancing over your shoulders to find Rafe. "He's that guy that owns the hotel chains for the tourists. The one who just bought up all that land near the marsh."

Rafe nods, picking it up. "Yeah. Cameron Development wants it but he handed the negotiation off to his daughter. She doesn't wanna talk and plans on proceeding with the original blueprint."

"But that doesn't make sense." You frown, plucking the case out of his hand. You look through the information. He lets you. "That land isn't a good location for a hotel. It's too close to the wilderness protection area for endangered species. They're going to get hell from the FWS."

Rafe stares back at your assessment. "What?"

"Look," you point to the map where he highlighted where the land is going to be used. "This is where the marsh is. This is where the hotel is going to be built. If you use that land, you'll disrupt the ecosystem and it's going to fuck you over later by the government."

He shakes his head, disagreeing. "We planned ahead for that."

"No. You only minimize it. You're going to cut off a main water source. It'll dry out the fishes and marines. You may be able to hold off the feds for a couple of years but I'm willing to bet it won't last longer than five. Max."

He's watching you, the way your brows knit together and your lips purse as you examine the case. "How do you know all that?"

"I work on the docks," you shrug, giving back the file to Rafe. "Heyward has been talking about how some Kook hotel magnate is planning on restricting a part of the marsh where they make their living. It's worrying them."

Rafe says nothing, glancing back down to the papers. "Well, Cameron Development was planning on using it for residential housing."

You shake your head, settling on the end of his mattress. It's so soft, unlike the one you have back home. "I wouldn't suggest that either."

He knows he shouldn't be taking suggestions from a bartender, but something in the way you held your ground makes him consider otherwise. "Why not?"

"Other than disrupting people’s livelihood? You don't want an alligator to end up on someone's back porch and they can't shoot it because it's part of the endangered species list. The lawsuits would be a nightmare."

What you don't explain to him is that you learned a lot of this because of what your parents drilled in you. They discussed local politics often. They believed it's important to have an understanding about your community and to know when certain corporations or people are about to harm it. That's what Kooks often forget.

"I mean, do what you want but that's my honest opinion." You conclude with a shrug. At the end of the day, it’s not your business.

Rafe watches as you lay back against his bed with a sigh. Your dress riding up; the high slit revealing more of your skin.

He has nothing else to say to that—to you—because, in some ways, you're right. You come in here and break down a problem he spent the past three days trying to figure out. It's maddening how incredible you are.

He throws the case onto the desk. His focus now pinned on you as his knees sink to the space beside your hips and he hovers over you, strong arms pressed next to your head.

"You're pretty smart then, huh?" He goads, his eyes scanning over your face. The necklace tangled with his initials. How you look under him.

You grin. "I told you. I'm not just a Pogue with no brains."

You're referring to his insult at the bar, the insulating that you weren't smart enough because you were from The Cut. He couldn't believe you remembered that.

He should apologize.

No one taught him how.

He changes the subject. "So why is someone like you, who clearly has a knack for these types of things, running a rundown bar in the middle of the docks?"

Rafe doesn't recognize your smile slipping off, just slightly. You don't immediately answer him. Your hand raises to cup the side of his profile.

"Are we going to keep discussing business or are you going to kiss me?" You challenge, because that's the best way to avoid these types of conversations with Rafe.

He scoffs. The way you tease him sends a shot of arousal down his spine. "Who said anything about wanting to kiss you?"

You tilt your head with a raised brow. "Are you saying I'm wrong? Because I have a faint memory of someone saying I was right about a certain necklace…”

He shakes his head, the corner of his lips raising in a smile. "Never said that."

"Didn't need to," you declare with a wink, "I can read your mind."

"Yeah?" He leans forward, his mouth right beside your ear. "Do you know what I'm thinking of right now?" He lowers his hand to travel up your exposed leg, closer to your aching pussy. Your breath hitch. "That I want to rip this fucking dress off and fuck you right here?"

You wrap both your arms around his shoulders. "Yeah," you play along. "I did."

"And what are you thinking about?" He rasps, his eyes searching your face for any sense of affirmations. That you could possibly want him too.

You merely smile, gently pushing him back and onto the mattress. Changing position, you straddle him. "How about I show you?"

Planting kisses on the edge of his mouth, down to his jaw, to his neck, he tips his head back for you. You feel his erection hardening under his pants, pressed directly against your core. "Feels good, darling?"

Rafe draws his hands up your waist to hold you in place. He wants to kiss you now, desperately, but you avoid his lips as punishment. "A little underwhelmed to be honest, sweetheart."

You giggle, slowly rolling your hips. He groans at the sensation, feeling his cock tightens. "Are you sure?" You say, sucking on the curve of his neck as you hear a small moan leave his lips. The low sound igniting heat in your lower belly. “I think someone wants me.”

"That's enough." He announces, grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you into a hungry kiss. Both your hands slide up his chest for balance and you melt into his touch.

Red lipstick marks are covering Rafe all over, but he didn't fucking care. All he wants is to taste you, feel you, that he would gladly take the mess you give.

His hand lowers to your exposed cut of your dress, pushing the red satin away to gain more access. His knuckles brush against your bare cunt. "No panties?" He asks with shock, his darkened blue eyes finding yours. Your shy smile gives him everything he needs. "Bad girl."

Your expression is innocent. "It ruined the dress."

His fingers graze your wet slit. "I have to buy you more then."

You chuckle, before he finds your clit and rubs broad circles around the swollen nub, and your laugh turns to a shudder. "Th–that was a one-time thing."

"Is it?" He muses, his fingers entering you and a whimper escapes. "I bet I can fuck a yes out of you."

He probably could, with the way he handles you. Knowing your body so intimately, what turns you on, when you're about to come. You couldn't give him that satisfaction, pulling him into another kiss and silencing your response.

Rafe gives in immediately. Your lips part and he sucks on your tongue while his fingers rub you faster, little moans leaving you between kisses. You come on his hand within time.

Weakly pulling yourself off, you start to unbuckle his belt and take off his pants—his hips lifts to assist. When you free his bulge from his boxer-briefs, it stands hard and swollen. "Such a pretty cock," you sigh in awe, stroking your thumb over the bit of precum at the tip. Rafe lets out a groan.

"Are you going to ride me, baby?" He asks thickly, his hand landing on your waist in preparation to help you mount.

"Not right now," you declare with an apologetic smile, his expression falling. "I can't ruin my makeup." You look at your kisses smeared over his fair skin. "Well, more than it is."

His hand doesn't leave your hips. "You can always reapply."

You shake your head, gripping around his base, your fingers barely connecting because of his girth. Rafe's breath grows swallows as you start to pump him. "But I can make you feel better."

He loves the way your hand wraps around him, tight enough for him to feel pleasure with each stroke, and his balls soon tightens. "Just like that, baby," he moans, propping himself back by his elbows as you work on him. "I'm about to come."

You notice, with the way his cock is twitching under your palm, and just as he's about to release his load, you dip your head and cover your mouth over the tip.

"Fuck." He grunts under his breath as you suck him clean, your hand continuing to rub him to empty every drop. When he finishes his high, you pull back, wiping your chin with the back of your hand.

"Didn't want to ruin your clothes." You inform bashfully, standing up from the bed. He wanted to grab your wrist and pull you back beside him but the opportunity was missed.

You go to the bathroom to grab a wet paper towel and return with the intent of washing away all your markings on Rafe. As you settle beside him to wipe away the lipstick, he moves away.

"What if I want to keep one?"

"What?" You shed a small laugh. He can’t be serious. "My lipstick?"

He shrugs. "It shows that we're together."

Oh, right. For a blind, hopeful moment, you thought it was because he actually wanted you. More than just a fake title. No, it was just another shield, another way to demonstrate he's committed.

You silently agree, wiping away most of your kisses until the last one is left. Just right under his collarbone, enough to be seen with a good eye but mostly inconspicuous. "Good?" You ask evenly, to which Rafe glances over to the mirror and nods. "Okay, I'm going to fix myself and then we should start heading out."

—

You put on your facade.

It's easy. You just pretend you're someone else—not a lowly bartender from The Cut making ends meet but someone dignified and deserving. You play into the role of being Rafe Cameron's girlfriend with that mentality.

The gala is hosted downtown, at a large five-starred hotel with a massive ballroom. When you enter through the double doors, opened by a pair of waitstaff, you stare in admiration at the exquisiteness at the place. Rafe catches your expression.

“Close your mouth. You’re acting like you've never been to a gala before."

"I haven't." You snap back lowly, before remembering you're in public. You shift your tone to be more friendly. "I mean, this is my first time here."

Rafe's taken aback by your compliance. He knows he should appreciate it, because you always fight back against him on everything, but the achievement feels hollow and disingenuous.

The two of you fall into steps with the room, greeting familiar faces. When Rafe ends up in a conversation with a group of Cameron Development's business partners, you were casted aside in the role of obedient housewife—where the women socialize while the men talked shop—and you didn't like that.

With a gentle hand on Rafe's shoulder, you subtly interject yourself into the discussion.

"Y'know, Rafe's pretty good at that." You praise, causing the eyes of the older men to fall on you. Your fake boyfriend stiffens under your palm, his gaze set on your profile to understand what you're trying to do. "I saw the way he works those cases. He's dedicated and efficient. Business deals are meant to be made with a keen eye and deep considerations. Rafe always does that."

They fall silent for a few moments, watching you with amusement, before a man with a scuffed beard opens his mouth. "And how would you know anything about it? Aren't you a bartender?"

Rafe's jaw tightens at the way those men address you, with such a superiority complex. It reminds him of when he first met you. But, like then, you didn't let them bother you. "Yes and I'm also the sole owner of Sailor. I've been running it by myself since I was eighteen, which has had an average increase of 1.1% profit margins every year since. I know what I'm talking about."

Rafe stares at you, slack-jawed. He didn't know that. The group of men held similar expressions, filled with embarrassment at their misperception of you. "And, if I remember correctly, you had a construction plan for a new shopping center downtown, right? Instead of contracting with Cameron Development and utilizing local labor from the Banks—which Rafe suggested—you wanted to import mainland workers. How did that work out for you?"

You heard Rafe on the phone once, talking about a shopping center being built, with an intended budget of thirteen millions, wanting to cut corners. They didn't listen to Rafe with his recommendations, pinned him as too young and inexperienced to know better, that it ended up costing them twenty-one millions. It's still yet to be finished.

Scuffed Beard shifts uncomfortably under your scrutiny, his eyes flickering amongst his peers with humiliation. You smile sweetly. "I'm not saying this as a critique on your character, sir, I'm sure you're an incredible businessman." You declare, coaxing him with compliments so he wouldn't hold bitter resentment against the Camerons. "But, your organization has an aging board committee. You might want to consider a fresh perspective on things." You glance over to Rafe, in a subtle gesture. "It might even save you millions."

A woman's hand settles on your waist and draws your attention away to say something. When you turn back to Rafe, you present a loving smile, so bright and natural. If he was anyone else, he would've believed that you adored him, but he knows it's a mere disguise.

"I'm going to go mingle, darling, have fun." You raise to your tippy-toes and plant a soft kiss on his cheek. It leaves a faint lipstick stain but you figure it would help him sell his committed act.

Turning your heels, you leave and continue your (fake) girlfriend duties. Rafe watches until you disappear into the crowd and only then does his attention return back to the quieted group of boisterous men who once didn't view him as competent. Their gaze shifts to his, waiting.

"You were saying?" One of them offers, reminding him of an idea Rafe was talking about before you came in—one they were rejecting—and a concealed smirk rises to his lips.

The rest of the night is spent talking and establishing relationships. An orchestra plays in the background while the men gather around, discussing their partnerships. You rarely saw Rafe, except in the passing, and each time his eyes lingered over to your direction, you gave him an affectionate smile, your fingers waving fondly over the separated distance.

All for show.

In the middle of a conversation with a group of Ward's partners, which were talking about golf tournaments and fickle deals, he pardons himself and strolls over to you. You were in the middle of talking to a group of women, hyping up Rafe's reputation as a successful underdog, knowing that, while the women may be casted as gossips, they are also direct access to their husbands' ears.

His hand slides under your waist. "Excuse us." Rafe nods to the housewives, before pulling you away.

"What happened?" You ask quietly, searching his face. "Is there a problem?"

"No, everything's fine." He shakes his head. Something about it warms his heart, but he can't help but wonder if this is the continued act you've been putting on the entire night. "I just... I needed a break."

You nod. "That's fine. It's good to take a breath once in a while. I know it can be overwhelming."

His jaw flexes. Something about your saccharine mood this entire evening feels off. The way you were complimenting him earlier with the business partners feels dishonest. "Stop it."

Your brows furrow together at his sharp tone. "What? What did I do wrong?"

"That." He gestures to you as a whole. "The concern. That pretend. I wanna hear my girl, not the bullshit you've been putting up for everyone else."

You blink in surprise. You can't even fully appreciate him referring to you as his before scoffing at his audacity. "Seriously? You're mad because I'm being too nice? Would you rather I give you an attitude every time you open your mouth?"

He smirks, satisfied. "There you are."

You can't help but roll your eyes. "I can't with you. When I snap at you, you get pissed off, but when I'm nice, you're pissed off. You can't be pleased, Rafe Cameron."

He doesn't understand it either, but he loves the fire behind your eyes when you talk back and he loves the way his name rolls off your tongue. Perhaps, it's something about who you reveal yourself to. How much. The idea that he gets the other side of you—one where no one gets often—that's what he likes. It doesn't matter if it's your attitude or bitter remarks. It's different. Because it feels completely his.

"Yeah." He nods, cupping your cheeks with one hand, running the pad of his thumb over your bottom lip. "What can I say? I love this mouth. Reminds me of when I need to punish it."

You playfully shove him off but you can't ignore the knot twisting in your stomach. Your mind wanders to earlier, when you were giving him a handjob and swallowed his cum. It causes you to rub your thighs together.

Rafe recognizes that look. He wants to rile you further, maybe drag you off to a secluded area and fuck you—but he hears his name being called from behind and he looks up to see his father approaching. His spine straightens, his shoulders tense up.

"Rafe." Ward greets, glancing over to you with an acknowledged nod. "He has just arrived. I need you to convince him to settle on a deal before we lose that land. You're the only one I can trust with this."

He's a bit annoyed that his father interrupted his limited time with you but with the ounce of approval he's giving—telling Rafe he's the only person he can rely on, the one he wants to close the case—he can't help but submit.

When Ward leaves, Rafe looks back at you, his expression is vulnerable for a moment. His father is depending on him and the pressure is kicking in. He wants to ask you to come with him, for moral support, but he doesn't know how to word it without sounding inadequate—like he needs you there to succeed. So, he settles on his silence.

You return to the housewives but, this time, you remain closer to Rafe. You saw the look on his face and, while you wonder if you're overthinking, you wanted to stay nearby.

After his negotiation to the hotel Kook, the man considers his proposal. He tells Rafe that he needs a moment with his company to discuss before making a final decision. Once he left, Rafe releases a heavy sigh, searching for his father when a figure among the crowd makes him stop. Sarah.

What the fuck is she doing here? He has never once seen her attend any of Cameron Development's events, claiming them to be too meticulous and boring. Yet, here she is, wearing a formal dress and heading directly to their father.

Ward greets her with a beam of pride, his arm wraps around his eldest daughter and introduces her to his partners. Sarah reciprocates, waving and nodding along. Rafe could only hear the sound of his own blood boiling.

When his sister goes off somewhere, Rafe makes a direct beeline to his father. He pulls the patriarch aside. "What the hell is Sarah doing here?"

Ward knows the look in his son's eyes. "Calm down—"

"Calm down?" He echoes, incredulous. He hates that phrase. His darkened eyes stare down at his father. "What does that even mean? What's going on? Are you—" He couldn't utter the next words, his anger reaching its peak.

"Rafe, listen. Sarah, she's been out for a couple of months—"

"Yeah, because she fucking ran away."

"Language." Ward's command is sharp, causing his son to fall silent. "That's your sister. She's coming home and I'm trying to make her feel more comfortable."

"Comfortable?" He repeats with an indignant scoff. When Rafe was at his all-time low with his coke addiction, his father kicked him out of the house for weeks. But when Sarah abandons Tannyhill for months, doing god-knows-what with her boyfriend, Ward welcomes her back with open arms.

It isn't fucking fair.

"Does this mean..." Rafe couldn't finish the sentence. He doesn't know if he wants to know. All he feels is this intensifying frustration at the way his father could always accept his perfect daughter but criticizes him at every little mistake. Never good. Never enough.

Ward answers him anyway.

"Yes, I'm still considering her for the company."

He doesn't respond to that. He stares at his father with nothing more than pure, unbridled anger. Anger and rage. Rage and jealousy. Jealousy and hurt.

Ward tries to place a comforting hand on his shoulders, but the eldest son shoves him off. He turns, exiting from the ballroom.

You follow him.

"Rafe. Rafe. Rafe!" You chase after him, breaking into a mini-sprint as your heels click against the marble-floored lounge, before your hand catches his elbow. Your eyes search his hardened face. "Talk to me."

He pushes you away too. "I hate him."

"What?" You blink through the confusion. "What happened?"

"He always picks—" He cuts himself off, his eyes growing teary and he doesn't want you to see. "Fuck."

Someone walks by and Rafe tries to turn away, not wanting to be seen as weak by any passing stranger. You pay a glance to the oblivious man cruising by, before taking Rafe's arm and pulling him to the nearest empty space: a bathroom.

When the door locks, you face the blond. Your tone gentle, your approach cautious. "What's going on? Are you okay?"

"Okay?" He scoffs at your concern. He doesn't feel anywhere near okay. "What the fuck do you think?"

You frown, but you know this is always the first step. His anger always targets you first. "I want you to tell me."

Rafe locks his jaw, frustrated at the way you're being too kind while he's nothing but filled with rage. He doesn't deserve it. "My sister is back and you're asking me if I'm okay? Are you stupid?"

You cross your arms over your chest. Not out of anger, more out of protection. "I'm not part of your family, Rafe, I don't know why that matters. You're being mean and I'm just trying to help."

"Help?" He repeats, disbelief dripping from his tone. "Like you were helping me with my conversations? Talking me up? Making me sound like I was good?"

He's on the brink of a breakdown and you can't seem to understand him. Why is he making it sound like it was a bad thing? "I am. I'm trying to help you."

"You're just lying!" He accuses, his voice cracking from the intensity, stepping back. Like he couldn't trust you. Like you hurt him. "You say some shit, making me feel like you want me, and then you go off and do other shit that proves you don't."

You're not quite sure he's talking about you anymore. It's something more. It doesn't take a lot to figure out who.

You approach him calmly. "Is that what Ward is doing to you?"

Rafe doesn't answer you, staring back glassy-eyed with choked breaths. He's hurt. He feels unwanted. He can't explain it. Sarah returning home, to open arms, confirms something he’s always trying to push away. It means that his life will be more difficult; his goal of getting the family company more challenging. Because he knows, he will always be the second choice to the golden child.

And if you have that, who the fuck needs Rafe Cameron?

"You... you are good." You begin slowly, watching the way he shakes his head in doubt. "I told them the truth. You're an incredible businessman and you care about your company. I saw it at the country club's dinner, I saw it when we were getting ready and I see it now. What's the problem with me letting other people know?"

His insecurities are suffocating him. "You don't believe that."

"I do." You affirm with a nod, stepping closer to him. "I don't lie about that stuff. I admire it, that's why I remember."

His breath is cut short at your admission. Several beats take place before he speaks again. “You admired me?"

You laugh, the melodic resonance making everything feels better, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders while he leans against the sink. "Don't let it get to your head," you warn with a soft smile. "But, yeah. It reminds me of me; how much you care about your family's business."

Rafe doesn't say anything, his broken gaze finding yours. They trace over your features, trying to read any sense of insincerity in them, only to find none.

"Your family's business?" He prompts quietly, using this opportunity to gateway into learning more about you. To let him in—that’s how you earn his trust. You falter.

"Yeah." You admit weakly. Every bone in your body is screaming at you to remain silent, to keep him out, but you can't help but continue forth. "I inherited it after my parents' passed away in an accident."

His eyes widen, at you revealing this glimpse into your past. Discomfort settles in your stomach, at letting another person in, but you can't help the way your chest lightens ever-so-slightly.

You don't want to deal with it.

Leaning forward, you press a soft kiss on his lips. Tender and warm, Rafe's hands immediately draw up to capture your waist before reciprocating the touch. It turns hungry, passionate, and when you pull away, breathless, you flick your gaze up to him.

"Want to know something else?" You ask in a whisper. "I haven't stopped thinking about your cock all night."

Rafe feels himself hardening at your confession. You have that effect on him now. “Yeah?”

You nod with a timid smile, playing with the buckle of his belt. “Can I blow you?”

He couldn’t say no to that.

Unbuckling his pants, you remove them within seconds. The corner of his lips quirks into a smirk. “Eager, are we?”

“I told you.” You say as you pull down his boxer-briefs, his cock springing free as your hand immediately wraps around the length, stroking slowly. “I want you in my mouth.”

Rafe can’t begin to express how it makes him feel hearing you say those words, your attention set on getting him as hard as possible.

Instead, he removes his blazer and sets it on the floor.

Your smile grows. “Didn’t know you would throw away good money like that,” you tease, glancing at the jacket that is probably worth more than your entire closet. “Thought Kooks have to take care of their things.”

“I am.”

The knot in your stomach tightens. You know you shouldn't like the possession behind Rafe's voice but you rub your thighs together to satiate the feeling. He notices, his arrogance grows tenfold. "Does my girl like that? Does she like knowing I own her?"

Rafe is probing you but there's a sense of comfort in knowing that he has this effect on you. When you quiet down, his words being too real and your hands stopping at the base of his cock, he wonders if he went too far.

Until you whisper, "I like it when you take control."

"Yeah?" He can feel his skin pricking with excitement. "The girl who always has something to say wants me to tell her what to do?"

Your cheeks flush with heat before you nod. "Good. Now, kneel."

You sink to the floor, your satin-covered knees pressed against his jacket to soften the blow of the hard ground. When you align yourself in front of his groin, you dribble a bit of spit over the head before spreading it over his length. Rafe lets out a low moan.

"I like hearing how I make you feel." You sigh fondly. "It lets me know how to please you."

Fuck, Rafe thought to himself, the idea of you getting turn-on by pleasuring him sends all the blood straight to his pelvis. You feel him twitch under your palm.

"And I think you like that too," you observe with a small smile, "you like having me as your own personal slut, don't you?"

He doesn't get to answer before you tilt your gaze up to meet his, taking his cock in your mouth. Rafe lets out a groan, the admission of your words tonight igniting desire all over his body.

The way your eyes connect with his as you slowly take him in, inch by inch, drives him insane. Your hand syncs with your mouth as you cup him, twisting and rubbing.

"Shit," he whimpers, the way you squeeze him feels incredible while your head sinks deeper, causing a small gag to form from the back of your throat. "That feels so good, baby."

The praise goes straight to your core. Your thighs are slick with your own arousal, aching, but you refuse to move till he comes. Your tongue flicks over his length, rolling around his tip.

"You're doing so well." He grunts, his voice thick as his fingers grips at the root of your hair, his climax quickly approaching. "Just like that, I love hearing the way you gag on my cock."

You do it again, louder, this time triggering a guttural moan from him.

Your technique grows more confident as your hands fall to play with his balls, and your head bobs up and down his shaft. When your cheeks hollow to add suction, it doesn't take long before he feels his muscles tightening. He's close.

"Are you going to swallow for me, baby?" Rafe rasps, causing your heavy-lid eyes to find his once again. "I know you can."

You nod. "Yes."

His hot cum shoots to the back of your throat in fast spurts while you take it all. His moans complement his orgasm, riding out with loud praises and noises you can't help but fuel your own desire.

When you swallow all of it, you pull back, his softening cock pops out of your mouth. Your hands settle on the flat of your thighs and you look up to him with doe eyes to ask. "Better?"

Panting, he answers. "Not even close."

He reaches down and hauls you to the sink, making you giggle at the way he handles you. Your ass settles on the granite counter and Rafe wastes no time to pull you to the ledge, pushing your dress up to your hips to reveal your glistening, bare cunt.

"You're this wet from sucking dick?" He teases, massaging your slick inner thighs. You bite your bottom lip, nodding along.

"Just yours."

He loves it. Tonight, you're simply perfect. Saying everything he wants to hear. Everything he needs to feel. He gets hard again, so easy under your influence.

You notice, glancing down to his hardening erection with a teasing smile. "Already?"

He chuckles, capturing you into a kiss. He tastes himself on your lips, the acknowledgement signals a primal urge, while his knuckles brushes against your throbbing clit, causing you to jerk into his hand.

"Rafe." You whimper, breaking from the kiss, your eyes meeting his with desperation. The feeling between your legs growing unbearable by the second. "Please, make me come."

This time, in a bathroom, your plea is met with a different consideration. He smiles before nodding once, lining the crown of his cock against your wet folds. "Only 'cause you ask so nicely."

Rafe pushes in, slow and steady to let you adjust to his girth, while your hands clasps around him for stability, your nails digging into his shoulder blades. Then, his thrusts begin to speed up.

"You like that, baby?" He asks, his free hand rubbing your swollen clit simultaneously to his penetration. You nod vigorously, your eyes closing shut from the pleasure. "Your pussy feels so nice around me."

"Like it was made for you." You supply with a moan.

“That's fucking right. Like it's mine."

His hand raises to the cleavage of your dress, pushing down the satin to reveal your tits. He's never been happier to know you decided not to wear a bra and pinches a pierced nipple between his fingers, causing your head to tip back with a raspy mewl. "Just like these." He adds, knowing the way he's playing with them will make you reach your peak faster. "Fuck, these are my favorite things."

The way he's teasing you, fucking you, feels so good, but you can't help but release a small laugh at his assertion. "Of course they would be, you whore," you say with a wispy smile.

He abandons his play, causing you to let out a small whine, when his hand cups your cheeks, jutting out your pout. "Nah, this mouth is." He closes the distance, kissing you, before drawing out your bottom lip with his teeth. The act is so surprising, you clench around his cock.

It causes a shudder to pass through him.

"God, you feel perfect," he confesses, his thrusts growing less controlled as he's deep inside of you, feeling every little response between your legs. "You should've been mine a long time ago."

The fabric of your dress falls back over to your pussy while Rafe wants nothing more than to watch how he pumps in-and-out of you. The frustration of the cover makes him roughly push back the material against your hips.

"I'm going to rip your fucking dress off."

"Don't you dare." You warn with a weak glare, the pleasure building too strongly for you to feel any genuine hostility.

"Thought you didn't want it?"

"I never said that."

"What is it, then?"

A moan ripples out of you as you lean forward, your lips fall next to the shell of his ear in a whisper. "My boyfriend got it for me."

Fuck, that got him and he spills in you, this time, the motion leaving him more jerkily and unstable than before. Despite the overwhelming sense of pleasure coursing through his body, he isn't finished. Knowing you haven’t came, his fingers fall back down to your clit and begin to rub in tight, fast circles, trying to help you reach your own orgasm.

You do, following quickly after, that he feels your walls clenching around his warming cock. When you ride out your high, you're breathless as he pulls out.

There's silence, and you expect him to get dressed and leave the room, but he surprises you when he focuses on helping you clean up. From wiping away his cum around your thighs, to fixing your hair, and helping you off the counter.

You don't know how to feel from the gesture; your heart clenching from his gentle acts.

Only then does he redress himself, picking up the wrinkled blazer off the ground and throwing it over his shoulders.

"Wait," you reach out, pulling him closer to the sink as you grab a wet paper towel and wipe away all the smudges of your lipstick over his lips. Your voice is soft. "I can't let you go out there looking like that."

He watches you as you work, wiping away any residues clean.

"I don't want to go back out there." He admits quietly. "I just wanna leave. Are you good with that?"

The question came at a surprise. "You're asking for my permission?"

He rolls his eyes at the look on your face, his shoulders relaxing. "Either that or you're going to get pissed at me again for taking you out before you're ready."

You chuckle. "We can leave. I just have to say goodbye to the housewives first."

"Had to get the word out for your bar?"

"Nope." You shake your head, realization striking you that, throughout this entire night, you spent no time thinking about yourself. Your hand lands over the doorknob, and just before you twist to open, you spare a glance over your shoulders at Rafe. "We were talking about you."

You leave first and Rafe's momentarily stunned that you used your one opportunity to talk about him rather than advertise your bar as a catering option for these plentiful Kooks. His chest warms and he soon follows you back to the ballroom where you pay your farewells.

Off on the side, trying to avoid his father, Rafe waits.

When someone taps his shoulder, his jaw clenches, not wanting to face Ward, only to turn and find the hotel magnate standing before him.

"We talked it through." The man declares as you pull away from the final housewife to return to your boyfriend’s side. "You got yourself a deal."

He hands Rafe a card, scribbled with a personal number at the top. The eldest Cameron reaches out to take the small card from him, rejoining their hands in a formal shake.

"Thank you, sir." Rafe expresses, keeping his voice neutral. The man nods.

"You got a good head on your shoulders. Keep it up." He declares, before nodding to you in recognition and leaves.

It takes a few moments for it to register. How it happened. How it worked out. When Rafe turns to you, your elation is too hard to contain, and you tackle him into a hug.

"You did it!" You beam, louder than the normal convention, and catch the attention of the nearby housewives who watch the interaction between the two with awing amusement. As you pull back, your hands clasps around his shoulders. "I'm so proud of you!"

Those words mean a lot to him. Especially now knowing that they're genuine coming from you. He doesn't know how to react, especially with the look on your face, the expression of complete pride from his success. "Really?"

You nod frantically, your cheeks hurting from how big your smile is. "What did you say to him? How did you convince him?"

His fingers mess with the business card in his hands and he shrugs. "I told him what you told me."

You can't believe Rafe listened to you. "So, what are you going to do with the land? Are you still going to build alligator-infested houses?"

He knows you're teasing him but he chuckles anyway. His adrenaline comes down to a neutralized comfort. Safe. He can't help it. Your presence, your words, and your kindness drives something deep in him.

"No." He shakes his head. "We're going to use the difference to invest into the fishing industry on the docks, benefitting from their stock value."

What he's not saying is that your argument held value to him. That his decision to help the Pogues is because of you. But, you take it either way, the announcement bringing a realm of good news for the first time in a long time.

Your chest is overwhelmed with such gratitude, you almost confess something you shouldn't.

"That's good." You settle with a gentle smile, clearing your throat. "I guess this means we can both go home to a satisfying conclusion, huh?"

That was the goal. But now he's not too sure he wants to depart from you this early. Knowing who you truly are—not just putting up a mask and caring about him in public, but genuinely proud of him, supporting him, always in his corner—he doesn't want to separate just yet.

So, he does something out of his comfort zone.

"It's getting late and it'll be a long drive to your house. You should just stay over."

This is the second time he's asking you, holding his breath to see how you would respond, and when your smile softens just a bit, almost in a way to let him down, he thought he got rejected again.

You know you shouldn't. You know this is only going to complicate your personal and professional lives. You know you should go home and place some distance from Rafe, to save you and your heart.

But something in you clench about the offer. It feels too similar to hope.

You nod. "That sounds like another great idea of yours."

— part eight here —

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lovelettersfromluna · 6 months

Text

Supercut

Summary: “In my head, I play a supercut of us.”

an: halfway through writing this I decided that this isn't technically the finale hehe, more of cam girl!Ellie come, this is just the end of them being stupid. mwah mwah love you all more than you know.

Warnings: SMUT!! 18+, MDNI, angst, cam girl!ellie, Ellie is a real idiot in this one tbh, arguing, hurt/eventual comfort, toxic!Ellie, tribbing, making out, pet names, this one is a little short im sorry, lmk if I missed anything!!!

Read part 1 here, and part 2 here!

You know that gross feeling you get whenever you look back at old pictures or videos? You know, the one that you feel at the pit of your stomach, and it makes you really happy but also really sad? What's that called again?

Oh, right. Its melancholy

It's that feeling where you have a specific memory, and you know that no matter what, that time is gone. You can't replicate it, and the only place that it will live is in the confides of your own mind

And it sucks, because you don't even know when those moments are going to be made. There's no warning in your brain that the day you have planned is going to be so impactful to your life, that you will constantly chase that feeling, trying to replicate what it was that made that time so blissful so that you can feel that same warmth again.

You don't even get the chance to savor it while it lasts.

It almost makes you feel like you never wanted those times to happen to begin with, because you would have been fine without them. Sacrifice one of the times of your life so that you wouldn't have to spend countless nights laying in bed, only hoping that you will experience something that can even come close to how it all felt in the past.

Most of the time, it's easy to simply look back at those memories, feel that disgusting mixture of happiness and sadness, and then move on.

But for some god awful reason, you can't seem to do that this time.

This time, it lingers. It sits there, knocking at your chest, demanding to be acknowledged, to have all of your undivided attention, giving you no choice but to think about how fucked up this all is, how all of this was a complete and utter mistake, and how you have no way in taking it back.

It makes you wish time travel was real, yearning for some mad scientist to come out and say 'look everyone! you can reverse the mistakes you've made in the past!'.

But that doesn't happen, and you have no choice but to live with the icky feeling that settles at the pit of your stomach, and refuses to go away.

You weren't entirely sure what would happen after that night with Ellie, the night that she laid her weight on top of you, fucking you into her mattress over and over again, whispering the sweetest words into the nape of your neck, holding you the entire night through once you were finished, silence overcoming the space as you both fell into a blissful sleep.

It was hard to really tell where you both stood, but you weren't an idiot.

You knew, that you and Ellie had made love that night.

It was truly like nothing you had ever experienced. It was like you were constantly in that delicious state before sleep, where the world is soft, and everything is so comfortable right before you reach the point of unconsciousness, and everything feels so utterly perfect.

That's what it felt like, and you knew that from the moment Ellie had pulled you against her chest, and pressed a soft kiss to your head before you both fell asleep.

It happened, but God....you really wished it hadn't.

Because now? Things were so much fucking worse.

The feeling Ellie gave you scared you, and it made the ugliest thoughts fill your head when you woke up. You felt wrong, the skin on your body feeling filthy for doing something so intimate with her, with your roommate. You felt like you were taking something that wasn't yours, something that was never meant for you in that way.

So you ran.

Not far, of course. You were lucky enough to wake up before Ellie, gently peeling yourself from her body, your stomach sinking whenever she mumbled something gently in her sleep, her hands mindlessly reaching for your body before she fell back into her deep slumber.

You stood over her for a moment, watching as her eyes flickered in her sleep, lips parted as she snored gently. The feeling you had when you watched her sleep scared you, because you felt...like you wanted to stay with her, protect her, hold her in your arms and ignore the reality of how much this was fucking with your head, ignore the fact that she had simply wanted help with her work.

It wasn't supposed to be like this.

You inhaled deeply before you left her room, closing her door gently before you quickly went to your bedroom, tugged on a t shirt and jeans before you grabbed your jacket and left the apartment.

You stayed out in the city all day, that day. You were like a ghost, trying to sort out the feelings that were settling in your chest, opting to simply ignore them instead. You made sure to leave your phone at home, knowing any texts from Ellie wouldn't do you any good with how you were feeling.

You didn't return home until later that afternoon, the sun setting, slowly casting the familiar darkness of night onto the city that you had come to know. You wished you could stay out longer, avoid the situation more, but it was only gettin colder, and you knew you had to go back to your apartment sooner or later.

When you got there, you were greeted by silence. You don't even hear Ellie's usual music playing from inside her room. You frowned softly, looking around a bit for any signs of the girl there. You looked down, finding that her leather jacket and helmet weren't where they usually were.

Ellie had left too.

You should've been happy at that, giving you even more time away from the girl than planned, yet you can't ignore the ugly tinge of sadness and annoyance that lingers at the back of your throat at the thought of here simply...leaving.

When you got to your room, you quickly grabbed your phone, wishfully thinking that there would be a string of messages from your roommate, asking you where you've gone, and if everything is okay between you both.

But when you unlock your phone, there's nothing there.

Not a single call, or a single text.

And you suddenly realized, that great minds think alike.

So, that's how things go with you and Ellie after that. There isn't a grand scene of love, where you both confess that you had both felt that way from the moment you set eyes on each other, there isn't a happily ever after where you become her girl, and she becomes yours. There isn't any of that, you two simply go from being friends, to barely being roommates.

You guys never speak about it. There's never a conversation that happens to even clear the air, pretending as though that night in her bedroom never happened.

There's a sense of hostility that follows after all of it happens, because Ellie won't even fucking look at you now, let alone stand in the same room as you. If you're in the living room, she's in her bedroom, and if you're in the kitchen, she leaves the apartment to go eat somewhere else.

It leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, because you can practically feel the hatred she has for you radiating off of her body whenever she's around, and it's a shock to you that you two are still even living together. The Ellie that would once sit in the living room with you, practically tugging your body to sit on her lap, has succumb to someone who barely even exists to you anymore.

And it doesn't even end there.

Ellie never really had girls in and out of the apartment before, even before you and her started filming and having sex. She was pretty strict about letting others into her space, only ever bringing around girls she was dating long term, or her designated filming partner. You never had a problem with it, letting Ellie know time and time again that the place was half hers, and she could bring whoever she wanted.

But that seemingly changed after you and her happened.

Because suddenly, there's a different girl at your apartment every night, and Ellie is fucking them ten different ways into the next month.

And it always happens to be on the nights before you have to wake up early to go in and open the record store.

She becomes relentless.

You first noticed it happening when she breezed past you on a Friday night, clearly dressed up for a night out. You couldn't really ignore the way your core tightened at how fucking good she looked, the feeling quickly overshadowed by the way she yet again left the house as if you weren't sitting right there.

After getting yourself to bed for some much needed shut eye, you were rudely awakened by the sound of your front door slamming open, followed by the sound of tumbling and soft giggles..

Which then slowly turned into the sounds of Ellie fucking a girl in her bedroom that was directly across from yours.

And it kept going, night after night, the sound of Ellie pleasuring another woman was all that you were left with. Not even your headphones on full volume could drown out the banging of Ellies headboard against the wall.

You have never been a jealous person, especially when it came to Ellie and her sex life. However, after what happened between the both of you, and the very clear fact that Ellie was indeed doing it out of spite..

You really couldn't ignore the fire you felt at the pit of your stomach whenever you heard some random girl moaning out Ellie's name to the top of her fucking lungs.

It was then that you came to terms with the fact that enough was enough.

And you had to move out.

It wasn't long until you wouldn't leave your room.

You seriously couldn't stomach the way it felt, being ignored by Ellie, her constant avoidance a reminder of how much of a bad idea it was to agree to filming with her in the first place. If that wasn't enough, constantly seeing her leave the apartment to go meet up with another girl started to hurt even more.

And you really didn't want to face the truth behind that.

There was something unsettling that came with the feeling it gave you, because how could you go from not even batting an eyelash at Ellie walking out of her bedroom with Julia, to feeling tears prickle at the edge of your eyes every time you heard her fucking someone else across from your room.

Because it's cruel, and you know you were wrong to leave her the way you did, but she left too. You knew that what you did was wrong, but surely you didn't deserve all of this? And why would she even want to hurt you like this in the first place? Surely you were the only one that felt this ridiculous conflicting feeling that only brought you stress.

And yet, you only found new ways to torture yourself.

It happens one night after work, you're tired and all you want to do is peel off your clothes and hop into bed.

Opting to grab your laptop, wanting to watch some mindless video on the internet to lull you to sleep, you are suddenly faced with something that had been waiting to haunt you.

A link to one of your videos with Ellie was still on your browser.

She had sent it to you a while ago, wanting to show you how well it was doing, and all the positive feedback that it was receiving, you meant to watch it at the time, but never got around to it. Now, it was sitting there, collecting dust until you decided to open it.

And you knew you shouldn't have, because that chapter of your life has closed, and you intended to keep it fully closed.

But curiosity did kill the cat, didn't it?

You didn't think twice before opening it, the link quickly flashing across your screen and taking you to Ellie's page. The thumbnail is of the two of you, the last video you guys had filmed. Its you, straddling Ellie on her bed, her strong hands gripping your hips, probably forcing you to grind down on her lap.

You feel your core tighten at the sight of it.

You don't look at it much longer, or read the comments either, because you know they will all be asking where you've gone, and whether or not you were coming back.

Instead of closing your laptop and going to sleep like you should have, you kept scrolling through Ellies page. You come to find the usual, seeing that she had been live the past few nights, as well as posted a few videos for her viewers to catch up on, none of it out of the ordinary.

Something does catch your eye however.

Its a video that was posted a few nights ago, and you can barely make it out, but you can see a thumbnail of Ellies tattooed hand pushed between a girls thighs, doing what you can only assume to be fingering her.

And that girl is definitely not you.

She had found herself a new partner.

It’s no shock that she did. She’d been actively fucking other girls, someone in and out of your apartment almost every night, something that she had made sure to make very clear to you…

But there was just something about actually seeing it that hurt like hell

You slammed your laptop shut, a bit too hard, but you were suddenly filled with something foreign to you, something that you hardly felt for anyone.

Quickly grabbing you blankets and tugging them over your body, you squeezed your eyes shut to try and erase the image of Ellie with another girl from your brain, the image slowly tainting the deepest corners of your mind so that you won't ever be able to do just that.

You couldn't do this anymore.

Ellie was just as bad at talking about her feelings as you were.

Because the morning after you and her had sex, she wanted nothing more than to wake up with you, kiss you, hold you, move on from this agonizingly slow phase that you two were in, where she was allowed to do the things that she always wanted to do, just conditionally.

She wanted to wake up, and move forward whatever the fuck you and her were stuck in.

But you didn’t. You simply woke up before her, and left, leaving Ellie to feel like a fucking idiot.

Because maybe she read into the entire thing wrong, maybe you didn’t feel anything for her, maybe you really did only see her as your roommate and nothing more than that….

Maybe that look in your eye that she was sure she saw when she was fucking you, was all in her head.

So when you ran, she did too.

And soon, Ellie’s sadness turned into anger, and all she wanted to do, was hurt you the same way that you hurt her.

She wanted you to hear her with other girls, she wanted you to see her with other women on her streams, she wanted you to see what it was that you’d lost, what you’d stupidly lost when you decided to run away from her the morning after it all.

But maybe she’d taken it too far.

Because Ellie’s anger turned into something that she didn’t want, because no matter how much noise she made, how good she tried to look whenever she was getting ready to go out with some random girl, no matter what she did to make you jealous, you never batted an eyelash her way, you never once reacted to anything that she did that was directed at you for the sole purpose of getting your attention.

And not only did it further prove to Ellie that you didn’t give a fuck about her, but it also made her so much more frustrated with you.

Did you seriously not have a fucking soul? Could you not even acknowledge her? Hurt for her? Feel hurt by her? Why wasn’t it working? Why weren’t you…..why couldn’t you just…..

Why couldn’t you just fucking want her.

Ellie was truly at her last straw, because being with other women was something she already didn’t like doing, but it was slowly eating away at her, picking away at her insides and making her feel hollow inside, a shell of who she used to be when she was with you.

And when she didn’t think things could get any worse, she found you doing something she only saw in her nightmares.

She hadn’t really noticed it at first, but slowly, your belongings began to disappear from the apartment. Particularly in the living room.

Your stack of blankets would get smaller and smaller as the week went by, the dorky little figures you had littered around different shelves and the tv stand started to disappear too, little parts of you started leaving, one by one, and Ellie was too far up her own ass to even notice.

Maybe if she had, she could’ve convinced you to stay.

In all honesty? Ellie probably wouldn’t even have realized you were leaving until it was too late, the girl far too consumed in her little revenge streak to notice the slow but sure disappearance of you, the way the remnants of you slowly began to leave one by one.

It just so happened that on a day that you were packing up some of your boxes, you had left your door cracked open, thinking that Ellie wasn’t home.

She was passing by your room when she heard a soft huff, the sound quickly catching her attention as she slowly walked towards your door, catching sight of the various opened boxes scattered around your room that was already looking sparse due to packing it all the way.

That. That was the straw the broke the camels fucking back.

Because suddenly, Ellie is pushing your door open, the force from her hand making it slam against your wall, the loud sound making you flinch to look over in her direction with wide eyes.

“Ellie?” You question softly.

The sound of her name rolling off your tongue makes a shiver run down her spine, because god….had she missed the way you said it.

Her eyes are angry, eyebrows furrows together as her eyes scan your room, looking at the boxes, your half empty closet, your empty book shelf.

“What the fuck is going on here?” She spits out, her tone making you wince slightly. It’s the first time you’ve heard her speak to you in almost an entire month and it’s so fucking hostile, so pointed.

This really wasn’t how you wanted this to go.

You let out a soft sigh, bringing your palm up to ran along your face as you look down at the boxes as well, heart sinking at the thought of going.

“Look…Ellie…I was planning on telling you…I just-“ she’s quick to cut you off, walking further into your bedroom as her eyes scan the walls, watching as they began to grow emptier and emptier the further in she looked. She scoffs, her green eyes finally landing on yours, her smoldering grip enough to take your breath away.

“Bull-fucking-shit. You weren’t going to tell me anything, and you know that” she argues, nostrils flared as she stares at you with eyes filled with that same glare of hate that you saw every time she’d glaze over you within recent weeks.

And she was right. You had no intention of telling her anything. She would learn that you were gone once you were gone, because that’s what you did.

You always ran.

You let out a sigh of defeat before you step away from her, fully intending on continuing packing. You didn’t want this to stop you, or put anymore obstacles in your way of leaving. This was what you had to do, and you knew that.

“I can’t stay here anymore, Ellie…things are fucked up between us and I just…I won’t deal with it anymore” you mumble out, your voice tired, weak. A clear indication of how you felt towards the entire situation. It was draining you, and you knew that for your own well being, you had to get out.

The sight of you packing as if she wasn’t in your room, trying to figure out why you were leaving, makes her even more upset. It blinds her from your words, from the weakness in your voice, in your appearance. She ignores it because the anger she feels is much easier to indulge in.

"So that's it? You're just gonna leave? Without saying anything to me?" she barks out, her tone making you feel worse than you already do.

And then it all stops, because why the hell are you feeling bad when this isn't even your fault.

You slowly turn to Ellie, your eyebrows furrowed as you stare at her in disbelief, cocking your head to the side slowly before you start to speak.

"Are you listening to yourself right now, Ellie? Do you ever stop to think for one second that not everything is about you?" The tone of your voice is so calm, words so slow and articulated, it barely even sounds like you're mad.

And it scares you, and it scares her.

You don't stop there, you couldn't even if you wanted to.

"This wasn't my idea, none of it was. I agreed to help you because you asked it of me, and I clearly have no fucking sense of boundaries. I get that what I did was wrong, and I shouldn't have left you that morning, but no one is fucking perfect" You defend, your own breath become more shallow the more you speak, your anger and frustration finally rising to the surface.

"This isn't good for me. You aren't good for me, you've been fucking different girls every goddamn night just to hurt me, and you're a fucking liar if you deny it." you spit out, making Ellie wince slightly, yet her eyebrows never unravel from how furrowed they are, and the frown on her lips is still there.

When you said it out loud though, she realized just how bad it was.

"I did it to get your fucking attention...not to hurt you" She barely whispers, staring down at you. You can't help but laugh softly, scoffing at her words before you give her a gentle sigh.

"Oh it got my attention, Ellie. It got it so much, that I can't bare for you to have it anymore..." you mumble out softly before you turn away from her, unable to stare into her eyes for any longer.

"I don't know what happened between us that morning...but I want nothing more than to just..forget about it all" You let out meekly, feeling yourself reduce to that small ball of insecurities once again.

And Ellie finally softens when she sees it, because you never let your guard down this much.

She inhales deeply, taking a step towards you, trying to get closer to you. You don't step back, or flinch, you simply ignore her, carrying on to pack your things as if she wasn't there, standing above you.

"You hurt me too...you know" she mumbled out, her voice finally dropping that hostile tone that she had when she first walked in. You're quick to turn towards her, spinning around to set your eyes that were quickly growing redder by the second.

"And Im sorry!" you shout, your voice going the loudest it had yet, it makes Ellie flinch.

You sigh out tiredly before you bring your hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. "If I could go back and do it differently..I would..but too much has happened, Ellie...I don't..." you trail off, struggling to find the proper words before you sigh softly, finally speaking again.

"I don't see you the same way, anymore" you mumble out.

This makes Ellies heart seize up, because what do you mean by that? What are you trying to tell her?

You move to sit on your knees, you bare legs coming in contact with the cold, wooden floor as you begin packing more things in a different box. There's no more fighting, there isn't anymore arguing, or anger, it's just silent, the occasional sound of your clothes hitting each other when they hit you settle them in the box. You don't even bother to turn around and yell at Ellie, or even tell her to get out.

And maybe thats what's hurting her the most. You never yelled, you didn't cry or beg, you didn't do anything when she knew you heard her, saw her with those other girls. All of them were nothing to her, sorry attempts at trying to grab hold of your attention again, get you to show just a little bit of fucking anger, so that she knew you still felt something for her, so that she knew she still had you.

But it was clear to her with the way that you disregarded her after it all, as if she didn't even matter, that she didn't have you anymore.

Did she ever? Did she ever have a chance with you? Was she all in her head? Were you simply just a good friend? A decent roommate who promised to help her out when she needed help? Was all of it just....

Pretend?

She feels like she's running out of options, because she assumed that if anything, you two would fight and end up in a heated, passionate love making session where you two would admit what you had felt all along.

But Ellie was slowly coming to the conclusion that she was being fucking delusional.

Her decisions didn't let up thought, because soon, she's on her knees next to you, grabbing your wrists gently in her hands and pulling you to face her. She feels her heart break when you refuse, trying to pull away from her grasp, mumbling soft complaints of how you needed to finish packing.

When she finally tugs you a bit harder, forcing you to look at her, she feels the weight of her mistakes finally settle on her chest, because you're crying. Your eyes are puffy and your cheeks are stained, and it's all her fucking fault.

She bites back a whimper, tugging her bottom lip into her mouth as she feel her own throat burn with tears.

"Hey...look at me...come on...where's my pretty girl...come on.." She tries over and over again, voice breaking, making you whimper as you try tugging your arms from her grasp.

"Don't you see how fucked up this is, Ellie? We were just screaming at each other and now...now you're calling me your girl" you plead with her, the words bubbling past your lips as the mere sight of here forces more tears from your eyes, making it harder and harder to talk.

Ellie can't talk her way out of this one, not with you. She knows there isn't much she can do, or say, and she feels like she's all out of options, because you're right. All of this is so fucked up, and it makes her insides burn because she's hurt, and you're hurt, and it feels like there's nothing she can do to fix it.

She does the only thing she feels will work. She kisses you.

It's filled with everything. Passion, longing, happiness, sadness, anger, everything that had been pent up between the both of you is poured into the kiss, and it's enough to make you feel dizzy.

But you don't pull away, you melt into her, just like you always do. She feels it too, feels the way you let you defenses down, taking it as a chance to tug your wrists up and around her neck, her own arms resting on your hips as she pulls you closer, her lips working against yours.

"Im....fuck...im so sorry, baby....never meant to hurt you" She mumbles against you, her words coming out as a breathy sigh against your lips, making you moan softly against her. She pushes her tongue into your mouth, giving your waist a soft squeeze.

"M'sorry too..Ellie....shouldn't have left..." You whine against her, and she's quickly shaking her head, gently tugging you up to stand with her before she's pulling you too your bed.

"Just...lemme take care of you..alright" She hums against your lips before she gently pushes you back to lay on your bed, her own body crawling over yours, resting her weight on your body as she goes back to kissing you.

It's so slow, and sensual, and it feels like the entire world is quiet, like you're fading into her, and she's fading into you, and you both are becoming one. It feels so fucking right, and the hole that had been growing in your chest is finally filling up, the essence that is Ellie slowly acting as the medicine that you needed all along.

Ellie rolls over, gripping your hips and tugging you to straddle her waist as she lays back against your bed. Her green eyes eat you up, strong hands already running along your hips and thighs, giving you a squeeze before her hand creeps up your t shirt, pushing it up a bit before it slips under, grasping your boob and massaging it in her hands.

"Fuck...look at you...missed you so much, pretty girl....you can't even imagine.." She sighs softly under her breath, eager hands roaming your body hungrily, as if they've deprived of you for so long, missing the way your skin spilled out from under her hands, always so responsive for her.

You tug your bottom lip between your teeth as you watch her practically worshiping your body with her hands, a soft whine leaving your lips as you rest your hands on her hips, pushing up her t shirt a bit as your thumbs rub small circle into her pale hips.

Her hands rest on your hips, forcing you to grind down onto her lap, making you whine softly, the feeling her her sweats bunching up right at your core, your cotton pajama shorts leaving much too room to be exposed by her touch.

She sits up, grabbing the hem of your shirt before she tugs it off your body, groaning softly as her lips immediately latch onto your nipple, biting and sucking. You moan softly, arching your back a bit and forcing more of you to her mouth, hands wrapped around her neck, toying with the hair at the nape of her neck.

Ellie pushes you back, resting you to lay down before she tugs your pajama shorts and panties off in one go. You promptly spread your legs for her, letting her settle between them, the small gesture making her groan, her strong hands gripping your thighs, grinding against your bare pussy.

"Fuck...such a good girl for me..." she sighs softly against your lips.

You whine, reaching down and tugging at her own pants, fumbling with the waistband of her shorts that hung oh so fucking low.

"Off..wanna feel you.." You moan softly against her, resulting in a soft chuckle from her. She presses one last kiss to your lips before she nods.

"Whatever you want baby...fuck" she mumbles softly under her breath when she pulls back to start tugging her own clothes off, catching a glimpse of your soaking wet pussy and naked body in the dim light of your room.

She looks so fucking desperate, nearly tripping over her sweats as she tugs them off, tossing them somewhere else in your room. It's like she can't get the clothes off quick enough, immediately settling between your legs again once she's naked, groaning softly a the feeling of your pussy against her body.

Her eagerness makes you giggle, and Ellie feels like she's on cloud fucking nine when she hears it, so soft and gentle. She pouts softly, staring down at you while she's already moving to position her pussy over yours, tossing your leg over her shoulder.

"What are you laughing at...hm?" She questions softly, her hips slowly moving against yours as she lets out a soft moan, eyes never leaving yours.

You can barely get the words out, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you feel her slick pussy against yours, clits bumping together in a way that has you nearly salivating.

She chuckles above you, a soft groan following the noise as her lips graze along your calf.

"Thats what I thought...fuck....your pussy is too fuckin good, princess' She moans out softly, her hips moving slowly against yours.

You moan loudly, your hand coming to grip her thigh as you move your hips in tow with hers.

"F-fuck, Ellie....you...that feels so good" you babble out, your other hand gripping the sheets beneath you as she fucks her pussy down onto yours.

Ellie smirks softly as she watches you, watches the way you fall apart beneath her.

"Thats my fuckin girl....you're the only fucking one I need...fuck...." She groans, turning her head a bit to kiss your calf again before her teeth sink into you, biting and sucking your skin, making you moan loudly.

You feel her speed up, hips growing desperate as she chases both hers and your orgasm, making your head spin as your nails dig into her thigh, sure to leave marks in the morning.

"Im....god...Im close Ellie.....fuuuckkkk....dont stop" you gasp out, low, lust filled eyes staring up at her as she continues bullying your pussy with hers, both of your arousal squelching together, making the most explicit noise you've ever fucking heard.

"Come on baby...want you to cum for me...can you do that? Fuck...I feel it too....that's it, pretty girl.." Ellie is babbling too, her lust clouded braun barely uttering words that are comprehensible.

You see her eyes squeeze shut, her moans getting louder and more high pithed, sounding so fucking pretty above you.

You feel like you'll explode, your back arching as the familiar feeling settles in your core, your pussy getting wetter and wetter as you feel your orgasm grow closer.

"A-ah! Ellie!" You scream out as you come undone beneath her.

And she isn't far behind, leaning down and crashing her lips against yours, forcing you to swallow her moans as she cums hard against your pussy, the both of you breathing hard as her hips sputter, pussy sliding around sloppily against yours as she becomes so fucked out, that she loses her rhythm completely.

And just like before, she lays there, on top of you, trying to catch her breath, face tucked against your neck, hands keeping you close, as if you'll disappear in thin air at any given moment.

There's so much going through your head, trying to figure out what it is that happens from here, where you and here go, what steps to take after, all of which come up with blank answers whenever you try to figure out what to do.

You assume she will fall asleep on you as she did before, knock out immediately and leave you to lay there with your plaguing thoughts.

She doesn't, though. You hear a soft hum from her lips, her hands squeeze your waist gently, before she speaks against your neck.

"I love you...so much.." she sighs out, her voice breaking a bit as if shed break down at any given moment.

You aren't sure what you'll do from this point on, but you do know one thing.

You won't run away from Ellie, ever again.

#ellie williams #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #ellie tlou #ellie x y/n #ellie the last of us #ellie x you

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futureplayboibunnie · 8 months

Text

Aphrodesiacs Pt.10 (Finale)

Miguel O’Hara x fem! spidey! reader

You and Miguel were bitten by the same spider…what could possibly happen?

okay grand finale for y’all. I REALLY BUST MY ASS TO MAKE THIS A LONG JUICY ONE. i was listening to once more to see you by mitski writing this soooo.

NSFW AS ALWAYS 18+

You kicked Miguel out that night.

Yes, it was petty. Yes, it was bitchy. But you really couldn't be around him, not when you had to go to HQ tomorrow. You got a taste of his lifestyle and you found that it was enough.

You didn't want to be a secret side fling but you didn't want to be in a relationship either, you were confused, and being near Miguel never made you clear-headed anyway so you found it very easy to kick him out. He wasn't saying the right things to you and to be honest, you didn't care if it was petty. You wouldn't settle, even if it was Miguel. But then again, it was Miguel- the man that makes you bend to his will, the man that makes your pussy sore and your body ache, the man that can make you cum over and over again until you're biting into the bedsheets. Your mouth went slack at the mere thought. You had to put your foot down, although it felt so fucking good, you wouldn't reduce yourself as someone he fucks from time to time.

You really weren't looking forward to Monday.

Monday morning was hell.

But as it approached nightfall, everything became worse.

Miguel was pacing in his office, his trembling fingers rubbing the skin of his forehead. He couldn't work properly, not when you so casually said 'leave' and shut the door in his face. He couldn't lie, it definitely stung, almost like he was being rejected by the popular girl in high school, reducing him to an awkward, idiotic mess in front of a pretty girl. The thought made his eye twitch, embarrassment twinging at his chest. The issue that was heavier than the embarrassment was the frustration and regret, he couldn't help but feel sad about it- but he would much rather die than show it. After all these years of keeping himself hidden, keeping busy with his work, with his role as a leader...he really didn't know how to open up to anyone. The only person he had ever gotten properly close with was you, and that was just sex. He hadn't had an intimate conversation about his true feelings with a woman he wanted before. It was always just about the sex. But with you, it had always felt like it was something more, maybe it was the spider, maybe it wasn't- he just wanted to be...near you. Lyla had heard him humbling to himself, cursing in Spanish. She was looming over him trying to see what was up with him but he just waved her away.

What if you were already fucking someone else? Did you hate him? What if you never spoke to him again? His jealousy over hypothetical scenarios was messing with his head. He frowned. Miguel felt a surge of anxiety and insecurity flow through him.

Miguel won't cost his dignity to approach you first though, it was always a challenge between you two, this cruel dance of death, the constant miscommunication, the back and forth. You were both just as stubborn and as unrelenting as each other.

Maybe if he just gave an excuse to see you, maybe if he had you in front of him he could actually talk about it instead of being a cold, unfeeling monster everyone saw him as. Miguel's face dropped as soon as he thought that, his brows furrowed in misplaced anger. The truth is... he was afraid. Miguel hasn't been afraid since Gabriella disappeared in his arms. Now he was about to lose you too.

He didn't want to risk it, he needed to do something.

Miguel pressed a few buttons on his watch, scrolling down to your name and alerting your watch to come see him. He didn't want to make excuses anymore, he just felt lost and you were the only one to find him, you were the only one to save him from eternal damnation. You were his sin, his haven, it felt...it felt like you were his everything at this point. This weekend gave him a glimpse of heaven and now he was aching for it back, yearning for it like a clawing dog at a closed door.

When you saw the notification on your watch, your lips curled downwards and your face shifted into a grimace. You let out a deep sigh, your face softening a little. Okay, another chance. Another chance to see him. You hated that you wanted to see him, but you just had to. Although you stood by your decision, you still felt a fraction of guilt just kicking him out like that. All you wanted from him was to tell you how he felt, not just about this tension between you but his feelings, your chemistry. If there was a future outside of this, if his heart was ready for it, to be open to love. You were scared to admit it, you didn't want to but you had to....you were falling in love with him. That weekend taught you so much about yourself, but it barely told you anything about him. He was unreadable, unknowable. All he was able to show was anger or frustration. You wanted to know if you were important enough for him to let you in. You just wanted to know him. Not just as Spiderman 2099. Not just as the spider that happened to bite both of you. Just Miguel. The heart he loved from, the brain he thought from. You wanted to love him, but he was so hellbent on pushing you away and you didn't want to force him to want you.

You knew this was a necessity. One last time, one last chance before you decided what you wanted.

Anxiety coursed through your bloodstream but you didn't show it as you finally walked into his office and Miguel felt your presence immediately, like your scent was his sustenance. You walked in confident but it always felt like Miguel saw through you, but you didn't know that, again, he was unreadable.

His eyes pierced through yours, a sad and frustrated look carving into his face, he couldn't tear his eyes away from you, he never did. Miguel threw his head back, signaling for you to hop up on his platform. You huffed reluctantly and swung up swiftly. when you landed on your feet next to him, his presence already formed goosebumps on the back of your neck but you were still defensive so you crossed your arms with an intent look.

"You wanted to see me." You say flatly.

“We left things...abruptly.” His voice was low but unconfident, he didn't know how to start, he needed you to take the lead for him.

“Think that was best.” It felt like the words were getting lost in your mouth, you still weren't looking at him and it made Miguel frown. His hand raised to grab your chin softly for you to look up at him and when you did you were met with sad, insecure, guileless eyes.

“Please just...look at me.” His voice was just above a whisper, a plea for something he wasn't sure of. Your mouth opened to speak but your brows just tensed, a moment passing between you as he touched you softly, almost affectionately.

You grabbed his wrist and let his hand fall off of your skin. “What do you want from me, Miguel?” You breathed impatiently.

“Just talk to me cariño.” The softness of his voice contrasted against the frustration on his 1 face, harsh lines of uncertainty and anger played on the softest parts of him, your cold words twisting the knife even further- but he still won't give you the power to hurt him. Miguel wasn't sure if he was capable of letting anyone in, let alone you. The thought slashed through the forefront of his mind and it made his heart hit his gut. He was scrambling for something, his mouth went dry and his hands went numb.

If only he stopped being so self-righteous, so bent on sabotaging everything good in his life. You sighed.

“I don't wanna be some...casual fuck buddy that's of momentary use to you.” A grimace plastered your face as you said it, you didn't want to be reduced to a hole that he fucks from time to time, you wanted him but you're not stupid, you still had your dignity.

Maybe Miguel pried it out of you before, but now you were just irritated. Your hands went to cradle his face, desperate eyes meeting his, searching for an answer but he didn't say anything, his face wasn't giving anything away. “I need more, I want more...” You lean in, lips parting into sullen apprehension, pleading with him to see you. Your fingers rubbed his neck, but this time it was him that was prying your hands off of him.

“What you're asking of me is not something I know.” His utterances were gruff and stern but it was clear he wasn't actively seeking to hurt you, he just never liked articulating how he was feeling, but he wanted to change that- but people don't change overnight.

The sad look on your face just turned into one of surprise defeat.

“Am I not worth trying for?” You breathed and Miguel didn't like the way such a question caught him off guard, it was like his ears were ringing with it, with anxiety...with fear. It's not something he's prepared to deal with, he watched your eyes dim, and your brows raise in disbelief in front of him in real-time and it made him feel even more guilty.

“You're enough for me now.” Miguel lied through his perfect teeth and his answer was making you even more upset, slivers of sadness echoed through him. You let him lie though.

“Then why are you trying to change me?” Your voice faltered a little, and it sent shockwaves down Miguel's spine. He watched as your nose pinched pink like you were about to sniffle in sadness but you kept your guard up, you definitely wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

“I'm not.” He said matter of factly, his face softening for a moment when his fingers brushed a few strands of hair behind your piping hot ear. “Don’t you see? It's you who's changing me.” You felt the depths of his voice scream in sincerity, soft-spoken. His gaze will always be as haunting as it is captivating, the one that makes you feel that you can finally see through him, but it was a beautiful illusion of the bliss he could bring you but never actually could.

“What am I to you, Miguel?” Miguel felt that you were actually withholding your anger from that and even then it still stung, you were still venomous yet harbored a tragic sadness that he couldn't help but feel guilty for. He was making you this miserable and you weren't even in a relationship. The passing thought struck him like lightning. “I know I'm not being fair or rational right now but I want more... need more from you.”

Miguel breathed out in frustration, placing his hands on your shoulders as if to shake some sense into you. “I want to. I want to give you more. I just-“ He forced the words out of him, manning up for the first time other than putting his fists in other people's faces.

He wanted to be good. He wanted to do good for you. But like he told you, he was never a good man to begin with. His lip quivered for a second but he didn't want to be weak in front of you...but you were breaking down his walls, at his door yelling to come in no matter the consequence. It would get you killed. “I don't want to hurt you.”

“Why? I'm not this fragile, breakable object that needs to be kept behind glass at all times. You recruited me, you know I can take care of myself, so why is all that changing now?” You were tired and angry and you just wanted him to want you, to fight for you.

"I'm the one that needs to protect you, no one else can do that but me.” He gritted out, his teeth clenching together.

'”What about me? What if I want to protect you? What if I want to take care of you for once?” That was all you were trying to get across, that you wanted to love him, that you wanted to care for him.

“No.” He said simply.

“So, you can want me but I can't want you? That's such backward logic, Miguel. I just..I want you to know that I care for you, I want you. Not just Spiderman or the aphrodisiacs we've become - you. I want to know you, I just want you to let me in. Why won't you let me do that for you?”

“Because you're mine now!”Miguel's grip on your shoulders tightened. He was practically yelling at this point, he couldn't do this.

As much as he wanted to tell you, the words just died in his mouth. Miguel wanted to cry, he hadn't let a tear shed in so long, and now he was this pent-up ball of emotion that he couldn't even fathom let alone differentiate. He hung his head in between you, his head now facing the floor as his breaths started to turn into heavy pants. “Because you're mine now...I’m the only one that can protect you. But what is that worth when I’m so capable of hurting you. I don’t… I don’t want to hurt you.” He repeated gently, almost solemnly and all you could do was stare at him wide-eyed, stilling at his unexpected outburst. A tear dripped from his eye, he couldn't face you looking this weak. “I'm supposed to hold it all together, to protect everyone, to keep everyone safe, To keep you safe. I can't be weak, I can't be weak- I have to hold everything together.” He choked out, spluttering and then it all just clenched at his heart:he started quietly sobbing, his head still downcast but his hands softening on your shoulders. Your lips parted in pure unbridled shock, gaping down at him as he fell apart. You really couldn't fathom this, it was all happening so fast.

“I've failed.” Miguel stifled. “I've failed as a leader, a father, a lover. And it's all my fault...I can't hurt anyone else.” Miguel couldn't stop the tears streaming down his face, and then he felt it- your warm touch softly trailing the outside of his face, lifting it up seeing he connected with your sad, eager eyes. That look could make a man fall to his knees, and Miguel honestly felt like it, his knees went limp. Your hand gripped his face as you leaned into his body, he blinked his tears away as his gaze fell on you. Your beautiful face was ashen with sadness and he hated that he was the reason for it. But you were holding him like he was water in your hands. Your soft fingers smoothed away his tears and it was like he was at the altar begging for your forgiveness.

Miguel looked so beautiful. His heart was opening and breaking at the same time and you felt like the luckiest girl in the world.

Miguel O'Hara was crying out in front of you, red eyes now a subdued hazel that you could fall in forever and never look back. All you wanted was to take care of him like he has for everyone else, to show him that he's worthy of love.

“Look at me...” You tipped his chin up and his lip quivered. “You are not a monster. You are not just Spiderman. You are not what you think you are, I've seen you up close and observed you from afar and this weekend has taught me so much about myself and what I want. All I want is to take care of you, to want you.” You had never been this honest about anything. The sincerity coursing through your body oozed out of every pore, radiating your need to want him. Miguel felt his heart stutter and his face freeze, he clenched his jaw to stop tears from pricking at his eyes as your words hit him like a brick. “Don't be the mask, let it out.” You added quietly. You gripped the back of his neck and placed it on your shoulder, your arms wrapping around him as if you would die if you ever let go.

Miguel stilled and then he melted into your embrace, feeling your warmth, he felt like Icarus being dragged into the relentless flames. Your acceptance of him was almost enthralling. You grasped his head into your hands, your eyes flitting from feature to feature as you felt him quite literally freeze in place-your fingertips were the salve to all wounds, the medicine to all sickness and Miguel was as damaged as can be. The walls he manufactured were nothing but dust between his fingertips, your unshakable will to not let him go, to love him as he is, guilt ridden and desperate, made him feel limp. Miguel's underbite clamped in an attempt to stop crying in front of you like this, to be so vulnerable in front of a woman was as foreign to him as being happy. He hasn't been happy in a long time and now you were here wanting to make him all better.

"You have no idea how much you mean to me.” Your grip on his face tightened as if to show him how serious you were. Miguel sniffled and melted into your warm hands, turning his head slightly to kiss your palm. Silence whipped through the air, the crackling of nothing but each other's breaths keeping you both steady as you tried to find the words to say, and this time you were hellbent on being clear. “The moral ambiguity of your actions doesn't scare me, I feel like you don't understand that. The mistakes you made in your past don't define you. Bad people don't care if they're bad...and I know you're good. In your heart, I know you're good...It's why I love you.”

Miguel's eyes widened a fraction and glazed over twice. He felt his mind turn to white noise but he heard you clear as day, the words falling like scripture. Like you were meant to say it. The words felt so sweet and liberating in your mouth but your heart was plunging further and further down, afraid of his reaction. You loved him. The silence that settled between you was palpable, and he couldn't tear his eyes away from yours.

Miguel didn't say anything, he just grabbed you by the waist with his right arm, pulled you close, and smashed his lips against yours. The tears smeared his face and then dried into his skin. Your kisses were always passionate, but this was like wildfire spreading onto the ocean. A fire in December. Warmth in the darkness. Miguel's tongue seeked to find yours, a soft tangle of lust and tenderness- something that he thought he would never be able to have. He sucked the sadness out of your lips and it felt beautiful.

“Let me take care of you..” You whispered sensually in between kisses and Miguel groaned, his fingers pinching gently into your skin. “Let me love you.” Your soft tender sighs were the glue that seemed to hold him together, he paused, pressing his forehead against yours.

“Are you sure?” He was hesitant, unsure if you were willing to see past all of his mistakes, to love him as he is, to be intimate.

Instead of answering, you pressed your fingers against your watch to form a portal to Miguel's place, to show him that you don't care about anything other than him at this moment, that you were willing to accept him as he is. You weren't afraid of proving it, if you had to you would, and right now you were desperate to prove just how much you wanted him, Miguel's eyes widened when he felt the portal beam right beside you, giving you a soft hazy look as you extended your hand, offering him to take it

“Let me prove it to you.” You whispered and that was enough to do Miguel in.

You were his calling, a siren guiding him through muddy waters. He intertwined his fingers through yours and you felt like your soul was being bound to his with every second your soft touch traced against his. Whenever Miguel's hands were on you, they were calloused and rough, his talons protruding from his fingertips aggressively but this time...it was tender, it felt meaningful- his touch was gentle, the way he was holding your hand and letting you guide him to a fate he wasn't even sure of felt surreal. He just can't leave you alone.

You lead him into the portal as your grasp on him is firm, a warning for him to show that you weren't letting go, not this time. As you both stepped out of the portal into his living room, it sealed behind him and left you both blinking at each other compressed by the thick tension. Thank God for this watch, honestly, it could take anyone anywhere.

“Wait...” He muttered hesitantly as he stopped you in your tracks. Turning around, your gleaming eyes were lasered on him and you shivered into his touch as he put his hands on your waist as a means to stop you from going to the bedroom. His free hand went to cradle your face as his thumb caught on your lip. “Did I hurt you at all? When we fucked did I hurt you?” He murmured sensually and it sent a permanent smattering of goosebumps to dimple all over your heated skin. Miguel's eyes were dim with curiosity and most importantly seriousness.

“No. Never. You never hurt me.” You confirmed and it settled the pace of his beating heart a fraction, but it was always racing when he had his hands on you. “We've fucked but...You’ve never made love to me.” Your voice was honeyed and low, the words slipping from your tongue as you suggested it.

Make love?

Oh, baby, you don’t know what you’re talking about. He doesn’t make love.

All he knew was to fuck. Hard and animalistic. But that wanton scorching look in your eyes, so desperate for him to be gentle, to make you feel wanted. And fuck, he wanted you to feel cherished by him.

He hadn't been so intimate with another woman like this, even with the mother of his own child.

Your eyes were wide, lips wet and eager but not eager in the way that he always knew you to be, you were desperate to show him something new, you were taking control and he was following along. It was refreshing.

His thumb was brushing over those perfect lips, plush and pink with heat and blush. You were so damn beautiful it was haunting.

Your eyes fluttered closed and your sweet mouth pressed against his softly, pecking kisses at his lips as you slung your hands around his neck and rubbed his scalp tenderly. “Let me make love to you…” You breathed low and thick and Miguel felt his cock harden already, he whimpered into your mouth and your brain committed the once-in-a-lifetime sound to memory. You made Miguel O'Hara whimper, you felt like the luckiest girl in the world. Miguel melted into you, his atoms jumping within his body to the point where he leaned into you so eagerly. You opened your mouth to deepen the passionate kiss, he was going so fast but you placed your hands on his chest. “Go slow baby...Need you to go slow.”

Your low voice shot straight down to the tip of his cock and it pulsated within his suit. Miguel listened to you and his mouth moved slowly, his tongue massaged against yours gently, tasting the mouth he adored. You tasted even sweeter like this- this slow waltz of passion allowed him to savor every second of it. The fact that you were on your tiptoes wanton for his lips made him realize how sincere of a moment this was.

"You're so beautiful it hurts.” He pulled away and breathed raggedly. His words were making you so malleable, so bendy under his will and you wanted nothing more than to please him. It was at this moment that you grabbed his hands laced it between your fingers once again and led him to the bedroom. “On the right.” He said huskily.

You opened the door and Miguel trailed behind you like a lost puppy, eager to follow your every move like he was in a trance. He closed the door behind him and that's when you realized it was going to be a long night. Your hands slipped from his and you took a few steps forward so you were near the foot of his bed: You reached out and quickly turned on his bedside light. You wanted to see his face. Miguel just leaned against the door, watching intently to every microdose, to every fraction of a move you made- waiting for your next move. At this point, you wanted to test him. You let out a soft breath with the part of your lips and felt the zipper of your suit. Miguel tore through your clothes like a knife through hot butter just with the sharpness of his talons, this time you wanted to make this slow and less immediate. Miguel's eyes were fixed on you, eyebrows tensing with a strive he hadn't felt before. The tips of your fingers toyed with your zipper and you pulled it down hesitantly. You hear Miguel let out a short breath when you slide out of your suit, slivers of skin piercing his peripheral with your shimmering glow. The fabric pooled at your feet and you stepped out of it, only left in your pretty underwear and bra set. Even subconsciously you were dressing up for Miguel.

He sighed and his eyes fluttered closed when he saw how you looked under the golden glow of his bedside lamp, he saw you perfectly. Your frame was even more beautiful than the last time he gawked at you. His jaw clenched and his teeth gritted when his eyes wandered to your lips. You were biting it and small marks indenting the soft flesh. “Come here..”

Miguel stalked up to you slowly, playing along with you, feeling the gorgeous reality set over him.

You wanted to make love to him, and he wanted to make love to you. To feel you intimately, slowly, passionately. He wanted to take the time to memorize the way you react as he makes you feel good. When he fucked you, he only got flashes, now he wants the whole thing. He was hungry for it.

He was in front of you now, your breath mingling with his, and your eyes flitted from gorgeous feature to feature. Miguel's hand traced up your thigh in barely there touches and you hung your head to watch his ministrations and it felt like you were spellbound by his mysticism. His finger hooked onto the side of your underwear and twirled it gently. “Hmm.” He hummed in a clipped tone and his eyes met yours in a powerful connection. He watched the black of your eyes burst widely, you clearly liked what he was doing.

He was being so gentle with you, so slow. It felt so damn sexy. This waiting. This tension. It felt like the beginning of all of this but…better.

“Tell me, Cariño...What do you want me to do for you?” Miguel whispered as his fingers hooked under your chin to tilt your head back up, he noticed that your lips were already swollen by a few kisses. You were so gorgeous like this, it was inhumane.

“Undress me..” You murmured sweetly but the force of your words seemed more like a diverted beg. Miguel was savoring every second of this torturous process, watching the little twitches of that perfect body of yours under a magnifying glass.

“Hmmm. That what you want?”

"Mhmmm.”

With that, Miguel placed his palms on your back, feeling the straps of your bra as he traced his fingertips over the hooks, teasing you, watching the way your face and body reacted to his barely-there touches. You reveled in it, the uncertainty of the touches he put on you. He finally unhooked your bra, the snaps liberating you as the tension is being relieved bit by bit. You stifled a moan and that sound was so much hotter than a usual moan, you were suppressing it making it clear that you were already getting aroused.

And fucking hell, it was arousing. He wasn't even in you yet. See, before when you and Miguel were yearning for each other, neither of you was thinking straight. All you both needed was to fill each other, Now after that, there was something missing.

This feeling of emotional need was what was missing. This emotional connection and chemistry.

Miguel watched with creased intent eyes as he tugged the pretty bra off you, your breasts bouncing out of its confines. His eyes flicked to yours, one soft palm caressing your chest, that telltale squirm told him everything he needed to know.

“Such a beautiful body, such a pretty face. Like you were made for me Carino.”

“Miguel...” You whimper out slightly.

“What is it, baby?” His voice was gruff and smooth all at once, a velvety mixture of husky and sensuality. It was like he was cooing down at you. “Hmm?” You darted your head down as an indication to strip you of your underwear.

Miguel's lips parted as he understood immediately, his eyes didn't rip away from yours as he slowly bent down to his knees. He hooked his arms around the back of your legs and kept eye contact with you, a surge of arousal washing between you. He planted a few trailing kisses up your thighs and you squirmed into him lime clockwork. His fingers shimmied down your underwear delicately and you stepped out of the flimsy fabric.

“Kiss me.” You say under your breath in such a sweet voice. How could he ever say no to that? The last time he couldn't really remember it, he was so taken over by his primitive instincts that it was all over in flashes-relish every last bit of you.

Miguel let out a sharp breath as his fingers kneaded the soft flesh of the back of your thighs before he cupped the globes of your ass, he was taking his time to feel you, to memorize it all and commit it to memory. Every time he touched your skin, it felt like he was touching God or angel matter. As his mouth placed teasing kisses on your lower stomach his aind was beginning to reel. You were arching into him, your fingers sinking deeper into his hair. He gave you one last look as a confirmation and all he got back was a pretty blushing face with a slack jaw and parted lips. “Need you…” You muttered and that's when his mouth started to suckle on your pussy, his lithe tongue moving up and down and in and out, he was keeping you guessing and it made you all the more frustrated and wet. His nose nudged your swollen clit and it made your body jolt from the aftershock.

“You always taste like heaven incarnate...” he mumbled between licks and all you could do was moan. You were caught off guard when he started to suckle on your clit, his pace was torturous, so slow and you were becoming more and more needy.

“Miguel...Please I-“ You tried to protest but you weren't even sure what you were protesting for and before you could even get off he rose from his knees and wrapped his arms around you, his mouth shutting you up.

Miguel's hands were placed firmly on your ass, squeezing tightly whenever you moaned into his desperate mouth. Your lips were melting into each other and blurring into a slow, wickedly passionate make-out. “It was like my name was supposed to come out of your mouth.” He felt like a teenager about to lose his virginity he was that excited. Your arms hung around his neck and your tongue was so sweet in his mouth, exploring unhurriedly but he knew you were at your threshold- even though he got a taste, you were still reeling from the fact he wouldn't let you finish.

Your mouth unsheathed from his and you both took a beat to gawk at each other. A dark look fell onto Miguel's eyes as he saw your cheeks pink and red with arousal. His hands cradled your pretty face and you looked like a doll in his palms.

“Want me to make love to you, yeah? Make you feel just how deeply I need you?” His voice was strained and low, seduction scraping at his vocal chords and it sent waves of neediness course through your body. The connection your gazes held was a simmering fire that was beating with passion. It was impossible to look away

“Yes." You breathed out sensually, an angelic hazy daze clouding your brain as the word just fell from your lips.

“You're so beautiful, querida.”He kissed your forehead tenderly and your breaths became even more rapid when you felt your legs go limp. He was holding your face like you were a jewel, you leaned your head forward to kiss him on the lips and Miguel just held you back with just the might of his palms. “Easy ángel...” He murmured. “Be patient f’me. You wanted me to make love to you, let me take my time with you then mi amor. Let me feel you.” His easy words just made soft moans roll from your tongue, he was doing a damn good job at making you feel not just wanted but cherished.

Miguel planted a kiss on your temple, you were squirming in his touch, rolling your body onto his. “You know, I haven't been doing well without you...Even after a day, you make me lose my wind with just how badly I need you.” he planted a kiss on your cheek and whispered hotly in your ear. “I got you baby, stay still f’me." He then kissed the corner of your mouth and then fully engulfed your lips with his. You were red hot with anticipation, your senses skyrocketing with every second but the reality was slow and agonizing- it was perfect. You decided to take the lead now, you got Miguel on the bed and he leaned up on the headboard, your head was in between his clothed thighs and you pouted. Miguel quickly rid of the holographic suit and his rock-hard cock sprung free in front of your face. The look on your face was priceless, a mixture of eagerness and seduction- it was a brain fuck.

“Let me taste you too.” Your tone was doused in pure lust and before Miguel's eyes could widen, your tongue stuck out and licked the head of his leaking cock. It wasn't like the first time you gave him head though, this was solely focused on him, no challenges, no teasing, no games. Just making him feel good. You gave kitten licks to his sensitive slit, those barely-there touches already driving him to the sharp edge. Your warm, wet mouth finally covered his tip, suckling gently and swirling him with your tongue, the salty taste of him you craved was already filling up your senses, he tasted so good.

“Mmm..fuck.. you're too good to me, so good f'me.” He let out a strained groan as his head tipped back slightly. You lapped him tenderly, sliding him down your throat, little by little. It felt...loving.

Miguel felt himself still in place when your warm mouth left him hanging, it was you who was prepping him this time. You crawled onto his lap with this innocent glimmer in your eyes, a look that was of mere longing and yearning, a face so eager to please. You settled between his thighs and Miguel's face was steely and serious, he really wanted to show you exactly the kind of love he harbored for you but you had other ideas and Miguel was uncharacteristically allowing you to do whatever you pleased.

“Wanna ride you...” You say softly as your hands massaged at his shoulders and Miguel is already letting out small groans at the slightest bit of contact. You placed your hands on his and guided them to your face, the pads of his fingers traced over your skin and you tilted your head to kiss his palm, then you caught one of his fingers in your mouth, suckling and twirling your tongue around the tip of it softly. Miguel sighed deeply at the pretty sight before you let it go with a pop. “Can I do that for you?” You breathed out.

This all felt so...personal.

Like you were reaching to the darkest depths of who he was and loving him anyway.

It made him burn for you. Miguel's cock was slapping against your stomach, your eyes darted from his face to his length and it made you wet your lips. “Mhmm.” He rasped, his big palms landed on the dip of your waist, helping you guide yourself on him. Before he could though, you leaned in and chastely kissed the tip of his nose, the bridge of his nose, and his forehead. Jesus Christ, it was like you knew exactly how to make him putty in your hands. You gave him a lazy smile as you rose up and eased yourself down on his cock, your pretty pussy swallowed him up entirely like always- even after he's fucked you so many times, he still never got used to how wet and tight your pussy was. Your eyes never broke from his as your tits pressed into his chest, you whined in his ear and his hands burrowed in your soft sweet hair, the strands falling down like a waterfall. "Ah...Mig-“

"Always taking me so well. Do you have any idea just how good you feel, mm?” He grunted out, his big arms wrapping around you entirely, trapping you in him. He was always balls deep inside you, there was no space left between you and that was just how you liked it. “My pretty girl. My beautiful girl. I need you.” He cooed.

You moaned when your hips started subconsciously moving, grinding down on him and making discernable shapes on his cock. Miguel watched you with awe equated to being starstruck, you were bouncing on him and rutting your greedy cunt on him trying to get yourself off on him. “You always- Fuck. Fill me up so good.” You moaned out, your mind all hazy from his brute strength alone, he was forcing you to stay put on his thighs, spending whatever time you needed to please him. Miguel slowed you down as he caught your supple lips with his, it was a desperate kiss that was bursting with flames and then your pace got slower, savoring the kiss. You broke away with a moan and sunk your teeth into his shoulder blades, Miguel's mouth was on the crook of your neck peppering you with the sweet kisses you were aching for, and you felt him inhale the scent of you deeply. His hands apathetically palmed your tits, he rolled the nipples between his nimble fingers, pulling and nipping on them with his teeth and smoothing them with a suckle.

Hm.

He's not known for being kind.

But feeling you like this made him thaw.

Lord, he just wanted to please you, make you feel good and you were just as inclined to do the same thing-bursting each other up with the flames of passion.

“Mmm. Slow yeah? Slow for me. Take your time for me, baby.” He mumbled out through strained pants, you were jerking on him steadily and his eyes tore away from yours to stare at the bulge of your stomach- he was so fucking deep in you it bulged out of your tummy. Miguel's ego skyrocketed at the sight. Fuck, that perfect body of yours would be the death of him. "Look how fuckin deep I am- He pressed the bulge on your stomach and it made your body twitch wildly, you quite literally felt him pulsate inside of you and it made you clench even harder around him. He felt an orgasm approach him, teetering off that blissful edge that tipped between sweet heaven and damning hell.

God, he felt too good, stretching you and bottoming out into you.

When you pressed your forehead against his and whispered “I love you” to him, that was it.

Miguel moaned and rolled you over so that he was on top of you, his legs trapped you in place and his cock was still aching inside you, craving your friction. He weaved his fingers with yours as he pushed in and out of you, Miguel's knuckles turned white as your palm flatted from bliss into the mattress.

He had never done this during sex before, the simple intimacy of hand-holding turned into something so much more consuming. Miguel's figure loomed over you, his eyes piercing and moody, a whirlwind of passion and emotion making his eyes crystal clear than before.

You stared at Miguel.

Miguel stared at you.

Watching each fraction of your body intently, the way your face moved with every thrust, the plush of your cheeks pillowing whenever you whined, the crease of your eyebrows when he hit that spongy spot so deep inside you. The eye contact was driving both of you insane.

“This what you wanted? Me to look after you? Me to take care of you?” He questioned lowly, the strained words coming out in a deep husk. He was deadly serious, it was easy to see when he was glaring at you. That steely resolve melted slightly when you rolled your body against his, your bodies slid together so closely that not even a sheet of paper could fit through.

“Yes, fuck, yes.” You whispered against his lips, your soft breaths were being knocked out of you with a very torturous slow thrust. It made your collision all the more beautiful. Miguel had fucked you so many times during that weekend but this, was otherworldly, this was the true connection, this was lovemaking. He was cherishing you, treating you like pearls and gold in his hands and it made you feel lucky to be alive, The electricity was hot, the gaze you both shared was simmering heat encased with something other than just chemistry.

“I'm not hurting you am I?” He asked inquisitively, his voice cool and suave.

“No, no, no, no, no....No, fuck, you're perfect.” You responded in pleading tandem, your eyes widening with a worrythat he would stop

“I love you, you know that? God, I love you.” He babbled and that's when you felt his thrusts falter and your nerve endings singe, it was like he was taking your beating heart and meddling with it to go faster, to give in.

“I love y-“ Miguel cut off your words with a scorching kiss, his fangs nipped at your lower lip and his teeth bit the supple flesh and pulled back, it snapped back into place and a shaky moan fell from your swollen lips and hs grip on your hands tightened.

You were so close.

This sizzling passion was eating you up alive.

Miguel watched your body react to him and it was a sight created in heaven.

“Miggy...Mig...I'm g'na cum...Just wanna cum for you.” You moaned drunkenly. Miguel's lips captured around your nipple, suckling it and grazing it with his teeth before his eyes latched onto yours again.

“Cum for me baby. Wanna watch you cum for me.” He breathed out raggedly, his gaze dimming and hair in disarray.

Your pussy was so drenched for him as always, but this time you were leaking, the slow pace offering a new and rare kind of satisfaction. When his cock nudged and ground on your clit, you knew you couldn't hold it in anymore. Hot euphoria washed over you in waves, and a new kind of electricity coursed down your thighs anf you soaked his dick in your wetness. “Thaaat's it...I'm right here, I got you.” Miguel fucked you through your mind-altering orgasm.

It was so different. So surreal. When that list final whine fell from your pretty lips, he was already cumming before he could even stop himself. He spread your insides a thick stringy white, spurting out how much you meant to him. His strained pants were soaking your glowing skin, and a thin layer of sweat coated your body in the dim room.

“Shit...”He muttered before your lips collided with his. Your tongue delved into his mouth, taking what he would give you like you were a cat chasing after a mouse. Miguel rolled off of you to your side but his arms were still wrapped around you, your lips still connected in that heady unforgettable kiss. Your hands nestled in his hair, your gentle fingers raking through the strands as you broke away from his mouth and when you looked back into his eyes Miguel's gaze was just as piercing as before.

Miguel stared at you.

You stared back at him.

Your cheeks stained pink as you gave him a lazy fucked out smile. Miguel had the urge to fuck you like that again now. He loved what he had just experienced though. Missionary was so much better like this. It was so much better when he looked into the eyes of the woman he loved. When you kissed him on the forehead and told him you loved him, he knew that this was different.

A sudden wash of defensiveness tightened at his chest. You should've walked away from him. He should've walked away from you...but you didn't and that was a risk in itself, no one knew how it would unfold.

Miguel had his temper.

You were stubborn.

What if- What it-?

Miguel watched you like a lovesick fool, your pretty face warming his cheeks and dimming his eyes. He contemplated you for a moment, your presence, your smile, your warmth.

Was it worth it?

Yes.

He wanted to wake up to you every day, he wanted to take you out to dinner, make you feel special, make you his.

You both just gawked at each other blankly, sweet words filling the sweet atmosphere. All this yearning, all this pining lead up to this.

You were flustered. He was flustered.

You felt so fulfilled, so wanted, so needed by him- it had never been like this with anyone.

Miguel was facing his fears head-on with you by his side. His anxieties were quelled with every moment he spent here with you, he found that your soft breathing and guileless eyes were what was keeping him afloat.

Y’ALL I HOPE U LIKED THIS SERIES!!! the amount of support is unbelieveable ilysm! i will be writing an extra bonus chapter for u ;)) iknow i def need to do a masterlist and i will get on it soon i promise (tumblr deleted my old one smh)

taglist (giggles): @thel0velykey190 @scaleniusrm @drefear @mafer383 @i-feel-violated @crowleysthings @avatar-lover @wyvernnest @rowboatweeb @schniti-is-in-the-house ri @d1lf-loverrr @iamv1n @ro99se @nxrdamp @mrssabinecallas @jesmynsjoys @xiylio @leahnicole1219 @reine-sans @tallmanlover @neverlandlostchild @axerrri @frieschan @plzfeedmebread @rorel1a @z0mbiekat @rey26 @stunkbiggu @honeycovered-bandaids @hearttjason @brittney69 @thyroidissues @4imhry @pinkliquor @realalpacorn @dr-skazka @simoniithehomii @aisyakirmann @deezisnotreal @synamonthy @bread6069 @iite-cool @thedevax @soymiguelsesposa @heartthrobinsblog @siidmm @queerponcho @luvingmyships @dhollandhs @kehlanilopez @lyrasdrawer

#spiderman 2099 #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara angst #miguel o’hara smut #atsv miguel #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o’hara x reader #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara

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cutielando · 4 months

Text

i'll take care of you ~ jj maybank

my masterlist

You woke up to the sound of your phone ringing. You reached our for it and when you saw who the caller was, you immediately sat up and answered it.

"Babe? What's wrong?"

JJ's heavy breath was the only thing you could hear.

"JJ? Is everything okay? What's going on?" you pressed, panic settling in your chest.

"Can I come over? I'll explain everything" his voice was so small, you could barely hear him.

"Of course you can, baby"

"I'll see you in 10 minutes" he said and hung up, not giving you a chance to say anything else.

It wasn't weird to get phone calls from JJ in the middle of the night, but he was never this distressed. Your mind started coming up with all kinds of scenarios, one worse than the other.

The 10 minute wait seemed like forever before you heard the all too familiar knock on your window.

You immediately jumped and opened it, being met with the bloody and bruised smiling face of your boyfriend.

"What happened to your face?" you asked while helping him enter your room without making too much noise to wake up your parents.

"Nothing serious, it's fine. Doesn't hurt as bad as it looks" he shrugged his shoulders and laid back on your bed.

You stood rooted in your spot, staring at him. You knew where the bruises came from all too well, but it didn't help that JJ was still trying to hide them from you.

"J, please just tell me the truth" your voice was small, knowing that JJ couldn't deal with screams and anger.

"I am, it's nothint that hasn't happened before. I'm used to it, it's fine" he was now sitting up, patting the spot next to him.

You bit your lip but complied and sat down, putting your right hand on his knee.

"I'm sorry you have to go through this, baby" tears started streaming down your cheeks by now, sobs fighting their way out of your body.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, it's just how he is. He's not always like this, you know, he has his good moments" the fact that he still tried to defend his dad, beaten to a pulp by him, brought even more tears and sadness in you.

"You don't deserve this, baby. Nobody should ever lay a finger on you, let alone a hand. You deserve so much better" you rested your head against his shoulder, squeezing his knee in comfort.

He brought a hand down to his knee and took hold of yours. You interlocked your fingers and squeezed, knowing how much JJ needed to feel you there with him.

"I have you, and that's all I need. Don't be so hard on yourself, it's not your fault" he whispered, kissing your forehead.

"Please let me take care of you. I'll talk to my parents and see if you can stay here for a while. They can even become your legal guardians until you turn 18. I know they'll do it, and you'll finally have a safe place that you could call home" the idea seemed so simple and easy for you, but it seemed like such a stretch to JJ.

"I can't ask you or your parents to do that, babe. Being a burden to your family is the last thing I want to do" he tried to reason with you, but you weren't having it.

"No, you listen to me. I am not letting you go back home, JJ. My parents love you and I know they are going to want to help you. Please don't push me away, let me help you" you were basically begging him at this point, but you didn't care.

Nobody deserved the life that he had, and you'll be damned if his father touched him one more time. You were going to do everything in your power to make sure he'd never received another punch or insult from his dad ever again.

"Okay" he finally whispered after a while, chewing on his bottom lip.

You let out a big sigh of relief you didn't know you were holding and wrapped him in your arms, silent tears falling down your face.

He buried his head in your neck, taking in your familiar scent and warm hold.

He finally felt like things could finally take a turn for the better. Like he would get a new chance at life.

All because of you.

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venuslore · 4 months

Text

𖥔 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𖥔

summary ; after being rescued, emotions are high when jj finally comes to terms with what happened between you on the island.

notes ; jj x best!friend reader, ANGST, profanities, eventual fluff, kissing. let me know if i forgot any !

do not transfer, translate or share my work to any other sites.

nobody in the entire world had ever made you feel so unapologetically yourself as jj maybank did. from the moment you met him, you knew he would become a constant in your life. just talking to him felt as easy as breathing. it was comfortable and warm, and he made you feel seen - jj made everything feel easy with you.

and yet, as you stood on the lawn outside his house, you had never been so afraid of doing just that as you did now.

ever since you got back from the island that jj had dubbed ‘poguelandia’, things had been significantly different, like, something had shifted the dynamic among the group. john b was acting weird, sarah was nowhere to be found, kie and pope were on lockdown, cleo with him, and jj… well, jj had been distancing himself, but specifically from you.

it all felt so wrong. you were pogues, you were meant to have each other's backs through everything, so why did you all feel so disconnected?

with each and every step you take, your nerves only seem to intensify, knowing that you were only a few seconds away from seeing jj. the way things had been left with him you weren’t expecting him to be excited to see you, but you wondered if he would even care that you were there.

making your way around the bend of the house, you're immediately taken when you catch sight of the yellow tape and eviction notice stuck to the front door. do the other’s know about this? you think to yourself. is this why he’s been so closed off from the rest of us?

you all knew that it was going to be the hardest for jj to come back to kildare. he had no one to welcome him back or tell him how worried they were, and now his home was being taken away from him. it hurt your heart to know how much he was dealing with, and there was very little you could do to help ease the burden.

sure, he may not like the place as much anymore, but it was all he had left after luke bailed on him. everything other than the pogues, everything other than you - which, at the moment, you weren't so sure about either.

you hear him before you see him, the sound of metal clanging together followed by an array of curse words filling the air, and your heart sinks as you turn to see him over by the marsh, working on his bike. he looked so peaceful, despite the swearing, and in his element, unaware of your presence and the fact that you were only a measly fifteen steps behind him.

had you not already seen the eviction notice, you would've been arguing with yourself to leave, but there was no way you could do that now. you were there to check on jj, and if anything, he was going to need you now more than ever.

a lot had happened on the island, and so many memories had been made – ones that you would cherish forever, while others you wished you could forget altogether – but you never once imagined how different things with jj would be now.

as you slowly approach the blond, you try to think of something to say to break the ice but come up short when you eventually reach him, deciding on, “do you need a hand?”, instead.

jj takes a quick look at you before returning his attention to his bike, “what are you doing here?” he asks in a way that makes you believe he doesn't want you there.

the bluntness of it catches you off guard, immediately setting off a panic inside you, and you fumble over your words for a moment before settling on what to say next. though you were sure from the way he looked at you, that he didn't really care.

"well, we haven't really spoken since we got back and i just... i wanted to make sure that you were okay," you lift your shoulders into a small shrug, hands fiddling with the hem of your shirt as you offer him a friendly smile - a smile that's fast to fade when he finally turns to look at you properly.

“i’m fine,” is all he says.

you thought that after spending an entire month together, he would know better than to lie to you. you could tell that he wasn’t fine, that something had severely changed in jj. the light that once filled his eyes while you were on the island, spending your days in the sun catching fish, going for late-night swims and making coconut bras, had surely vanished. replaced by dark circles that encapsulated his eyes, proving that he hadn't been getting much sleep either.

“are you sure? because i just-”

“i’m fine,” he repeats, cutting you off in the process. “in fact, i’ve never been better.”

you gesture back to the house where the front door was covered in police tape. “what’s going on, j?”

this time when he speaks, he purses his lips with what you can only assume to be irritation as he continues sifting through his tools again, “i said i’m fine, y/n. just leave it.”

you don’t push him any further, knowing just how stubborn the maybank boy was. he wouldn’t let someone help him unless he was tied down and forced to. jj hated handouts, he hated feeling like he owed someone, so he preferred to do things via his own methods.

“okay. i’ll get out of your hair then,” you nod, burying your hands into your pockets now. “just let me know if there’s anything i can do.”

if he hears your words, he doesn’t bother to show or acknowledge it, too busy tinkering with his bike to pay you any mind. though, you don’t make it very far, only a couple of steps, before he’s opening his mouth to speak once more.

“haven’t you already done enough?” he mutters, scoffing as though he couldn’t believe the audacity of you wanting to help him.

a mix of emotions floods over you as you take in his words, the comment setting a pang off in your chest, and you turn back to him with disbelief, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

there was a bitterness to his words that lets you know his attitude towards you was about so much more than just wanting to know if he was okay. he spoke as if he was blaming you for something, and there was only one thing you knew it could’ve been.

one thing that you knew jj would be willing to use against you.

the cool night air nipped at your skin as you and jj lay on the sand, heads resting in your arms, as you stared up at the starry night sky. you didn’t think you would ever get used to this – sharing such a serene moment with jj – but it had quickly become a nightly ritual in your new island life. if you weren’t watching the stars, you were sitting by the fire, or on nights when the water was still a little warm, you’d be sneaking in a late-night swim.

“would you stay here forever if you could?” the question comes from him so abruptly. “i mean, if you had the option to go back to the obx or stay here, what would you choose?”

“it depends, am i staying here alone or are you guys here with me?” you roll onto your side, resting your head in the palm of your hand as your view changes from the night sky to the blond who seemed to hold the entire galaxy in his eyes.

jj chuckles to himself, “we’d be right here with you, always.” he scrunches his nose at the end, though it feels like there’s a secret weight to the question you don’t know about.

“go back, obviously,” you roll your eyes, watching as jj’s face contorts into an expression of faux sadness, and you playfully tap him on the shoulder, before sitting up, “i’m kidding. i’d choose to stay. if it’s where you’ll be, then so am i.”

a small silence ensues as jj thinks over your answer, and just as you had predicted, there was more to the question than he was letting on. he didn’t care so much about whether you would go or stay, he cared about whether or not you would leave him.

“what about you? if i were back in kildare, would you stay, or would you come back?” you twist his question.

his brows meet in the middle as he sits up to join you, and he pouts his lips as he pretends to be thinking really hard about it, “i’d go… wherever you are.”

“yeah?”

“yeah,” he nods, sharing a look that seemed to only be reserved for you. his eyes dancing over your features and his lip tugs up into a smirk, “after all, what’s paradise if you can’t share it with the people you love?”

you knew he didn’t mean it the way you wanted him to, but hearing him say it, and hearing him say that he would follow you back, ignited a feeling in your tummy that no one else ever had before. there was something about the way he spoke with you as if nothing else in the world mattered, and with the way the moon and the stars were shining down on him, you couldn’t help yourself.

you lean forward, but where you expected him to pull away, he meets you in the middle. there’s an urgency to the kiss, like, he had been waiting for it just as long as you had, and the second your lips touch, you feel sparks exploding inside your chest.

if anywhere in the world is worthy of being called ‘paradise’, you think, it must be this moment right here.

he tries to deepen the kiss, pushing into you more, but before he can pull you closer, pope’s voice calling out to you both causes you to pull apart, and you’re left breathless. your chest rises and falls dramatically as you try to regain your breath, while jj coins his fingers through his hair.

“we, uh, we should probably go,” jj swallows hard, but something in him has changed. he refuses to meet your eyes, refuses to show you any sort of emotion. he doesn’t even wait for you to answer before he’s dusting off the back of his pants and heading back to the group, leaving you bewildered by what had just happened.

“wait, jj,” you follow after him, but he doesn’t bother to stop, his mind solely on getting back to the others. “jj, stop, can we just-”

“no, y/n. we can’t… we can’t be doing shit like that,” he looks disappointed as he stops dead in his tracks. “just… it never happened, okay?”

that was your last night on poguelandia and had you known it would be the last, you certainly wouldn’t have let it end the way that it did. you had tried to talk to jj the next morning, but with the events that followed over the next few days, your mind had been elsewhere.

it was hard trying to get used to being back home, to not waking up with your friends, but eventually, the kiss with jj was all that you could think about; consuming your every thought.

it’s jj’s voice that cuts you from your thoughts, filling you with the same guilt that had been riddling you for the past week or so, “look, i really don’t have time for this.”

“just like you don’t have time for me anymore?” you retort, earning yourself a pointed look from the blond. you didn’t mean for it to sound so harsh, but it was the truth.

he snickers, dropping the tool in his hand on the table, before leaning against it, “no. it means, i don’t have time for this. look, you don’t need to worry about me anymore, okay? just… go, y/n. go back to your family, and your home, and let me be.”

the sound of your heart thrumming rapidly in your chest fills your ears as tears prick at the corners of your eyes. this wasn’t the jj you had spent the last month with, he was rigid and cold, and there was a look in his eyes – a twinge in his gaze as he looked at you – that made you believe that this was all your fault.

jj had never been so ruthless with you before, and seeing your best friend in such a way had you sick to your stomach.

“where is all of this coming from, j?” your voice is shaky, and yet, the only answer you’re met with is silence as your biggest fear manifests before your eyes.

you felt so small – small enough that you hoped the world would open up and swallow you whole – while jj busied himself with his tools once again, moving on as if he didn’t have a care in the world. like, everything that had happened that night, and everything he had said, was because of you. as if he hadn’t played a part in it too.

deciding that you weren’t going to take all the blame for this, you walk to the other side of the table so that he has no choice but to look at you, “you can’t just shut me out like this, okay? you’re my best fucking friend, j, and i’m not going to let you push me away.”

for a split second, jj closes his eyes as his head falls between his shoulders. you wondered what was going through his head, if he even cared about how you were feeling, or if he was just thinking of a way to get rid of you. but the words that leave his lips aren’t what you were expecting at all.

“please… just go home, y/n.” he lets out an exasperated sigh, but when he sees the determined look in your eyes, he knows that you’re not going anywhere. so he takes matters into his own hands and starts to walk away.

“jj, please stop. if i could take it all back, i would. i would take it all back in a heartbeat, but i can’t,” you feel a weird sense of deja vu as you follow behind him desperately, much like you had that night on the island. “i see the way you look at me, how much you resent me for it, okay? i see it. and i’m sorry. i’m sorry that i ruined everything.”

there’s a falter in jj’s movements as he hears the last bit, knowing damn well what it felt like to be the reckoning of all chaos in your own life; to continue down a path that he knows he shouldn’t, but does anyway.

jj looks sad as he slowly turns back around to you, clearly regretting how he had reacted to everything. he starts toying with his fingers, anxiety and worry written all over his face.

“y’know, i keep trying to tell myself that what happened between us meant nothing, that it shouldn’t have happened,” he pauses, heaving a deep breath. his movements become jittery, one hand slightly balled as the other clenches at the air. “but no matter how hard i try, i can’t stop thinking about it and about how badly i wanted it to happen.”

“so why do you keep pushing me away?”

“because it was wrong, and i knew that it was wrong but i still did it anyway.”

“was it wrong because we’re pogues or was it wrong because it was me?” your question lingers in the air for a moment, the silence almost torturous.

all that could be heard was the gentle rise and fall of the waves in the distance.

jj opens his mouth to speak, but he closes it before he does, giving you the answer you needed. you had tried to brace yourself for his answer, but nothing could possibly have prepared you for the hurt you were now feeling.

“got it,” you nod, drawing in your bottom lip and clamping your teeth down to hold back the tears that were begging to see the daylight.

you knew that being a pogue was important to jj – you were the only family he had – so much so that he would end a friendship over it. you knew that there was no getting through to him now, and after everything you’d heard, you didn’t want to stick around any longer.

turning around, you bury your hands into your pockets and start to walk away, not caring about holding back the tears anymore as they slowly start to roll down your face. your vision blurring and eyes glazing over as you trudge across the overgrown grass.

“it was wrong because we’re pogues,” jj’s voice causes you to turn back. “and being a pogue means that we stick together, but i can’t… i can’t lose anyone else, y/n. especially not you.”

confused, you take a step back in his direction, wiping away at the few tears that had fallen, “jj, i’m not going anywhere. you know that, you know -”

“-no, i’m dead serious. i’m not going to risk losing you or fucking this shit up like i do everything else. i won’t do it,” he grits his teeth, hands reaching behind his head before falling back to his sides out of frustration. “and i don’t know why everyone leaves me, but they do – maybe i’m cursed or something – but i sure as hell am not going to let that happen with you.”

“that’s not going to happen, jj.”

“you don’t…” he pauses, a pained expression on his face before it softens. “...you don’t know that.”

you could see that he was in just as much pain as you were over this, his baby-blue eyes glazing over with a mixture of fear and despair. you take another step towards him and, at first, he moves to take one back but stops when you reach for his hand.

“do you remember what you said to me that night? about staying on the island?” he nods. "you said you'd go..."

"... wherever you are." he heaves a deep breath.

"i meant what i said, j, and i know that you meant it too," you move closer, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his body suffusing through him. "and i mean it when i say i'm not going anywhere."

“you promise?” he feels almost stupid for asking it, but he was craving the reassurance.

and you give it to him, “i promise.”

with delicate movements, he lifts your hands to rest against his chest, his eyes not daring to leave your gaze for even a second. he gives you a warm smile, and you smile back, the pad of his thumb rolling over your knuckles before he drops them to caress the sides of your cheeks.

a seed of fear had awoken in your tummy, but when he raises his brows at you, you know that he was certain about what he was doing. you nod, giving him approval and he meets your lips as everything you had been holding back erupts into a long, passionate kiss. jj’s hands move to the back of your head where he pulls you in closer.

this kiss was nothing like the one you shared on the island, it was full of promise. a promise to each other, that no matter what was to happen between you both, you would never leave the other because you were pogues for life, and pogues stuck together.

#— ꒰ ‧ ₊˚ vee daydreams ˖꙳‧ ꒱#jj maybank ᰔ #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x fem!reader #jj maybank x you #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank oneshot #jj maybank one shot #jj maybank angst #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank fic #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank fanfic #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank #jj maybank x pogue!reader

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twst-drabbles · 2 months

Text

Malleus 15

Summary: A way home was finally found a year after you rejected Malleus's advances. Once you got home and were settled in, an invitation made it's way to you, written to you by Malleus Draconia, King of Briar Valley. How many years have passed?

(I've been on an odd writing spree, but for my original writings. It's weird, but I'll take it! Anyways, have a what-if situation of a King Malleus still yearning for the Prefect! Might continue it if people are interested enough in this what-if scenario.)

"Then would it be possible," Malleus reaching out to you as you faced the star-filled sky, "for you and I to share in each others lives?"

…and so the day finally came. When Malleus would gather up his courage and confess in the way all faeries do, in sentences layered over passionate feelings.

Honestly, the thought of being in a relationship with Malleus didn't sound all that bad. He's a sweet man, if a bit air headed with how easily lost in.

You do feel bad, honestly, for the fact that your feelings never ran deeper than general interest. You don't yearn for him, you can't. Especially not when you know that he's a prince. If you want to love him properly, if you want to build upon this general interest, you'd have to accept that specific part of him.

However, when you imagine the future laying before you, you see that it has nothing to do royalty.

Malleus has done nothing wrong. It's just unfortunate that he's a prince. His future was simply not one that will mesh well with your own.

"My life in my own," you said, "I don't intent to share it anymore than I already have. I'm… simply not interested."

You knew him too well. You can't pretend to be ignorant and go through hoops just to convince yourself that surely he didn't mean that, that he meant something different and that it's all platonic. Because, to you, that's just an excuse to not be blunt and say no. To avoid hurting the other party.

But avoiding what needs to be said is worse.

So, you had to reject him and leave it at that. You didn't like hurting him, but you also can't delude yourself and think that everything will somehow work out, especially since your feelings don't match his own.

Malleus didn't push and you didn't make him leave. And so you both stayed, continuing on as you always have, two people with positions too unique to truly be ignored.

The day came that you would leave. You said your goodbyes, you had your parties and feasts, and when all was said and done, you were relieved to be leaving. To finally go back home.

You waved to them all, to all the people you've met along the way, and passed through the mirror without a second glance back.

Time barely passed by when you got home. So little time, in fact, that your phone was still near to full battery. Dust didn't collect on your bed or dining table like you expected, and there wasn't a single voice message or text asking about your whereabouts.

It's as if you didn't vanish at all. Well, to be fair, you weren't the kind of person to keep in constant or close touch with anyone. You liked your alone time a little more than the average person, but it wasn't anything to make you feel guilty over.

In fact, you're relieved, that only a minimal amount of time has escaped you. You didn't have to go home to frantic worries, to people getting angry out of concern for your sudden disappearance. Everything was calm and level. It was easy enough to go back to the routine you had before.

You missed this, you will admit that. You missed the air and scent of your bed, the grocery store and all its busy chatting, the scent of baked or fried snacks surrounding the local flea market, and even the way the wind flows through the trees. Sure sure, the land you were previously in had all these things, but they weren't yours if that made sense.

Honestly, after a while, you were almost convinced that everything that went on back in Night Raven College was just a dream. If only because, like a dream, you can really only enter and exit such places once.

But then an invitation entered your hand.

Addressed to you, handwritten in such a way that can only be taught in professional calligraphy classes. It tells of a tour around the gardens in the abode of the King of Briar Valley.

King, huh? Has that much time really passed? Putting that aside for a moment, you can't say you were shocked that, out of all people to be able to send a letter right to you, you would place your bets on Malleus.

That being said, you couldn't say no. It's been a while but you're familiar with Malleus's language. A simple tour just for the sake of a tour? No, that's not it at all. He probably misses you. And, to an extent, you miss being over there. A visit is probably due right about now.

And, if things go the same way as they did last time, you'll be gone then back in the blink of an eye.

So, you wrote your reply and placed in on the nearest full body mirror.

You probably should've practiced your landing when it comes to mirror traveling. You fell right through, though you were lucky enough to grab the edge of the mirror before you could crack your knees.

Immediately, you were hit with the scent of cold and old magic, that sharp scent, not quite ozone, less metallic than that, less chemical-like than that. It was neutral magic, subdued in smell but overpowering enough to fill your sense anyway.

It's been a hot minute since you've been here. You're not quite to magic anymore, and you couldn't help but start coughing and clearing your throat.

Then, you were practically washed away with the smell of fresh rosemary.

"You…" And, as you expected, his voice stayed the same, and yet you can hear it, that small bit of quivering, as though he can't believe what's before him. "So, the invitation did make its way towards you, dear Child of Man. Are you alright? Are you sick?"

You held out your hand and coughed into your hand, trying to get this weird stickiness out.

"I'm, ugh, I'm fine, Hornton," Ah, should you really be calling him that now that he's king, apparently? Ah, who cares, you're the guest, you can be forgiven. "It's been a bit. Not all that used to magic anymore, is all."

And then, you looked up. Before, you wouldn't say his horns were malleable or soft, but there is a difference to them. Their color has darkened, and there these silver decorations about them that made those horns seem longer than they actually are.

There was a laugh. "Are my horns truly such a marvel? Well, if you so ask, I won't mind you touching them, if only to prove to you that they are no mere illusion."

"No, I'm good on that front," you sighed then finally looked to Malleus's face. "Huh. You look… older."

Older, and that's honestly kind of concerning for you. He isn't aged, not in the same way you've felt around Lilia. Yes yes, Lilia has a youthful face to him, but after a while, you can't help but notice the little things that betray his true age. Much like now, where you can see the slightest dips in his eyes, near his mouth.

Like most fae, they seem forever young, but the signs don't skip anyone no matter long they stay alive.

The fact is, enough time has passed that Malleus visibly aged.

Malleus, in all his kingly regalia, closed his eyes and took a deep breathe in. "It hasn't been that long. How many years…twenty? Perhaps thirty or less? Ah but, that's an age for children of men, isn't it? And yet, time hasn't so much as glanced at you. You look just the same as I remember, perhaps more youthful. But, that aside, I'm glad to know that this invitation made it you, before life has left your body."

…thirty years? Thirty years? So, time really does pass by differently in your home, huh? That's… you don't know what to think, honestly. Awful? Interesting? It certainly doesn't feel good.

"That long? How much did I miss?" Were there reunions? Letters written to you but could never be sent? And how is everyone else doing with their lives? Are they still alive? Did someone die an early death potentially? And what about families? Did they start some?

…ugh, you hate this feeling. You only have theories and questions and already you're feeling left out from it all.

Well, all you can do is take it one step at a time. Get to know what has happened, and move forward from there. You have no choice but to do so.

Malleus placed a gloved hand on his chin. "…it would take too much time to say right now. Perhaps I'll tell you all that I know as I walk you around the garden? You did accept the invitation, did you not?"

Your mind wasn't quite here, so you just nodded with a, "Right, right."

"Then," Malleus turned, his hair much longer now, perfectly groomed without a knot in there, "shall we be off?"

And you followed, feeling a bit awkward in the fact you were just wearing casual wear.

"…is that lipstick you're wearing, Hornton?" Probably not what you should be focusing on, but you couldn't help but notice. You're more used to his pallid lips than that luscious color.

"Hmm? Why, yes. It was shade recommended to me by one of my servants. If I remember right, this was something crafted by Schoenheit."

"Oh, so his stuff's world famous now, I take it?"

"World famous? Hmm, not quite sure what that entails, but the influence has made its place here. So, influential enough. Does it look odd on me?"

"Don't worry, it looks nice."

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst-drabbles #twst-drabbles exclusive #drabble #diasomnia #malleus draconia #reader insert #years later au #malleus

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zeezelweazel · 3 months

Text

Rachel Daly & Millie Bright| New Experiences|

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I was planning on writing more fluff but all the smut ideas hit me like a truck so here you go ig, also this is loooong

I'm kinda nervous to post this idk why (the proof reading was very rushed, not my best work)

TW: Strap on use, fingering (reader receiving), oral (Millie receiving), face sitting, praise kink, dirty talk, slight breeding kink

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You've been dating Rachel for almost a year now and obviously you've met Millie more than once. The two best friends were soulmates and you won't lie, at first it bothered you a little. How they were so impossibly close with their matching tattoos and their inside jokes. It made you feel like you have to compete for Rachel's attention and time.

Then you realised how crazy that sounded so you shifted your attention to trying to be friends with Millie. You two bonded really fast and Rachel was delighted over your new found relationship.

Now some time has past and the three of you have settled into a comfortable dynamic. Although no matter how much time you spend with someone, there are always things about them that you must discover.

You and Rachel are cuddled up on the couch with Millie on the other side with your legs draped over her lap as a boring rom com plays on the tv. The movie was something that you guys found playing already and decided to leave it, the plot being about a woman discovering her love for women after years of dating men.

Everything was going smoothly until the two best friends decided to make an innocent joke.

"Good for her, but I'm sure that it's not that easy to realise you like women after dating men your whole life."

"Pssh please, one night with us and you'd be head over heels Bright."

Millie turned to Rachel so they can continue their little scramble but your mind had simply stopped working. Surely Millie must be joking. There's no way she's not only straight but also has never been with another woman before. Sure, you've never talked about her sexuality with Millie before but you had simply assumed. Which sounds bad but at the same time, could you really be blamed?

"Wait wait wait. Millie, you've never been with a woman before?"

Rachel looks at you with a smirk you can't identify at the moment and Millie just smiles and shakes her head.

"Nope. Never. Shocking ain't it?"

You only hum in response and focus your attention back towards the screen. Just when you thought the night was about to continue as normal, Rachel reached down and squeezed your thigh. You gulped knowing that this conversation isn't over just yet.

It was almost midnight when Millie left. You and Rachel were getting ready for bed. You noticed your girlfriend throwing pointed glances at you but not really saying what she wants. Finally you've had enough so with a huff you pull her into your side on the bed. Rachel chuckles slightly before finally revealing her thoughts.

"So about what happened earlier... You were a tad bit disappointed that Millie isn't interested in women."

Rachel said it so confidently that it made you laugh at first but once you noticed she was serious you started playing with your hands anxiously.

You'll admit you've spent a fair share of time ogling your girlfriend's best friend. It's not like cheating, of course not, it's just that Millie was an objectively attractive woman. A gorgeous, tall, mascular woman that you've fantasised about once or twice. Or more than that.

You thought you were not being obvious about it but Rachel knows you better than you know yourself. It's also fortunate that Rachel knows Millie better than anyone. She's caught her best friend looking once or twice. She couldn't blame Millie, you're drop dead gorgeous.

The recent events tied everything together, it's just too good of an opportunity for Rachel to brush it off without doing anything.

When Rachel realised you weren't going to answer she tugged you to her side and pulled you in for a side hug.

"I've seen how you look at Millie babe." Rachel leaned in and whispered in your ear. You froze completely at her words, not knowing how to react. Rachel smirked teasingly and you blushed trying to hide your face in her shoulder.

"I don't blame you. Millie is really hot."

Your eyes almost bulge out of your skull after hearing your girlfriend's words. You move back to look at her, trying to gauge her reaction to see if she's lying or joking. When you realise she's completely serious you bite your lip in thought.

"Are you really saying what I think you're saying?" Rachel only nods in response looking at you with an almost hopeful look." I don't want Millie to be uncomfortable. I mean she's never been with a woman before and what if she thinks we're creepy, or disgusting or-"

"Woah pause. Millie would never. If she doesn't like the idea she'll simply tell me that and then we'll forget this ever happened."

You ponder over it a few moments as Rachel quietly runs her hands up and down your sides. When you finally nod, Rachel grin in triumph and lays down on the bed.

"Good. I'll talk to her tomorrow."

When Rachel came home grinning from ear to ear and pulled you in a passionate kiss you thought she was just in a mood. But after she pulled away she told you that Millie had miraculously agreed. You really didn't expect her to but you'd be lying if you said you weren't giddy at the thought of a threesome with your girlfriend's best friend.

It took a lot of preparation and long talks with Millie about your boundaries and your kinks but everything was finally sorted and ready. You were almost pacing in your living room waiting for Millie to arrive. Rachel is trying to play it cool but you could tell she was nervous as well. It's not like you two have done this before.

The tension in the room is broken by the sound of the doorbell ringing. Rachel jumped up from the couch and all but ran to the door. Millie seemed to be anxious as well, her more than you and for good reason. With everyone anxious the atmosphere was a little awkward. You didn't dare to make the first step, opting to look at the floor instead.

After a few seconds of silence Rachel finally decides to break the ice. She pulls Millie closer by the fabric of her shirt and frames her face with her hands. Millie's face flushes red and she nods her consent. Rachel finally pushes their lips together, softly at first, expertly sliding their lips together. Millie groans softly into the kiss and her hands fall on Rachel's hips to pull her closer. You watch as the two best friends kiss and warmth grows in the pit of your stomach as the kiss turns more passionate. Rachel gasps when Millie squeezes her hips and grinds down on her which allows the taller blonde to slip her tongue in Rachel's mouth.

Your eyes are dark with lust as you watch the scene in front of you progress and you rub your thighs together desperate to relieve some of the pleasure in between your thighs. You weren't expecting Millie to take the rains so easily, especially with Rachel usually being the dominant one in the bedroom, but it's definitely a welcome surprise. When the defender sucks on Rachel's tongue she whines and her hips twitch. Millie pulls back then and Rachel chases her lips only to be lightly pushed back by her best friend's strong hand. Millie is smirking confidently when she turns to look at you.

"Can't let you have all the fun now can we, Rach?"

Without another word you pounced on her, your kiss wet and rough as you tried to consume one another. Realising that you three have been standing in the hall this entire time you string Millie towards the bedroom, your lips not once leaving eachother. Once you reached the bedroom Millie pushed you on the bed. You fell on the cushions with your eyes stuck on Millie who looked a bit uncertain on how to continue. Rachel slipped behind Millie, reaching around to rub chiseled abs over the defender's clothes but her blue eyes were fixed on you.

"Take your clothes of baby."

You nod fast at Rachel's command and take your clothes off slowly, making sure to give the two women watching you a show. You take of your shirt first, revealing the lacy white lingerie you picked out. You bite your lip as you feel your pussy grow wetter when you see Rachel slowly undressing Millie, taking of her clothes piece by piece as she kisses along her neck and whispers in her ear hotly.

"Doesn't she look so pretty? Do you want to fuck her Millie?"

You moaned needily when you heard Rachel's raspy voice. Millie's eyes were dark with lust, she licked her lips and gripped the sides of your bottoms. With a nod you gave your consent and Millie tugged down both your pants and your underwear at once.

Millie was bare on top as well, save for her bra. Rachel had now moved next to you and swiftly unhooked your bra. You whimpered when the cold air hit your stiff nipples and Millie groaned at the sight of your soft breasts completely exposed. Rachel reached over and took her best friend's hands on her own to guide them to your chest. Millie instinctively squeezed and groped your tits, her big palms covering the entire soft expanse of your breasts. Rachel, ever the impatient woman, moved to your neck instead as she nipped and sucked bruises on your skin.

Millie started twisting and tugging on your nipples and you moaned loudly bringing one of your hands to tangle in Rachel's soft blonde hair.

"Please, lower!"

Rachel smirked against your neck when you begged. She pulled back and started rubbing your thighs as you let them fall open. Both women turned their attention on the wet patch that very obviously formed on your panties.

Rachel slowly slid them off and you whined as she took her sweet time, teasing you as much as possible. Now you were lying beneath Millie, completely bare as both women stared you down hungrily.

Rachel moved closer to Millie and positioned her hands once more. Taking the defender's hand in her own, Rachel guided one of Millie's thick fingers through your slippery folds and your hips bucked while your mouth fell open.

"Feel how wet she is for us. Such a good girl, dripping all over and making a mess."

You whimpered and tried to grind up on Millie's finger, tired of the teasing from the blondes. Rachel tutted disapprovingly and held your hips down with her free hand to stop you from moving. She kept their fingers going up and down until she focused on your throbbing clit. Millie's rough fingers making tight circles over the sensitive nub. The sight of your girlfriend teaching her best friend how to touch a woman, how to touch you, turned you on in ways you'd never imagine.

Millie started gaining confidence quickly, her fingers now moving on their own, even dripping lower to tease at your gaping hole. Rachel decides that Millie is fine on her own for now so she reaches back and unhooks her best friend's bra as well. Millie groans when her best friend starts planting wet kisses on her neck. Without wasting any time Rachel's hands moved to her breasts to twist and pull at her nipples, similar to what the blonde was doing to you a few moments before. Millie took pity in your whining and finally shoved two fingers inside your wet pussy. Your hands gripped the sheets tightly, a futile attempt to ground yourself as Millie's fingers set up a punishing pace. Millie turned her head and started making out with Rachel again. Their tongues were moving against eachother, your girlfriend doing a great job of swallowing all of Millie's moans as her nimble fingers continued touching her chest.

"God Millie, fuck! I'm so close don't stop."

Rachel grinned at your words her lips moving down to connect with yours in a bruising kiss. Millie seemed to be more motivated to make you come, using her other arm to rub your clit while her hands kept moving.

"Curl your fingers when you're inside, she loves that." You groaned when Rachel said that but the breathy sound soon turned to a high pitched moan when Millie curled her fingers and hit your g-spot repeatedly. You couldn't control your hips anymore, you started grinding down in time with the blonde's thrusts.

"That's it baby girl, come for us." Rachel cooed in your ear and your thighs started shaking while you toppled over the edge, head thumping on the the sheets while your eyes rolled in the back of your head.

Millie was good with her fingers. Way too good for this to be her first time. Her fingers were thick and big, a huge difference from Rachel's long and slim ones. Your chest was heaving from the deep breaths you were taking desperate to gulp down as much air as you can. When you opened your eyes what you saw made heat immediately pool at your lower belly once more.

Rachel was now sitting on the bed, mouth stuffed with Millie's fingers as she sucked and licked to clean them from your juices. Rachel was still wearing all of her clothes but not for long. you moved closer to the blondes and tugged on your girlfriend's shirt, a silent question to remove it. Millie removed her fingers from Rachel's mouth and quickly got rid of the of the offending garment.

It didn't take Rachel much to push the taller woman on the bed and get on top of her, their lips crashing against eachother. You saw your girlfriend pushing Millie's pants and underwear down, helping the taller woman remove them completely.

"I want to taste you." It was a whisper swallowed by the wet sounds of their lips brushing against eachother with passion but you heard it non the less. Millie nodded hurriedly and pushed Rachel lower. Her cunt was wet and aching and the only thing that will help is Rachel's mouth on her. Rachel looked at you before getting on her knees and she licked her lips before smirking.

"Why don't you sit on Millie's face sweet girl?"

Both you and Millie flushed red at the suggestion but both of you are eager to jump on the opportunity. Millie looks a bit unsure as to what to do when you climb over her face. Rachel pats her spread thighs to get her attention, knowing what her best friend is feeling even without being able to look at her face.

"Just focus on what I do to you so you can do it to her, yeah?"

Rachel doesn't see Millie's strong nod but she doesn't seem to care as she dives in anyway. She runs the flat of her tongue through Millie's sloppy folds and the defender moans, thrusting her hips against Rachel's face. You slowly lower your pussy on Millie's awaiting face and the other woman immediately copies her best friend's movements. Rachel lets Millie grind on her tongue relishing in the moans from both her and you as the sweet taste of Millie fills her senses.

Rachel grips Millie's thighs and pushes her head closer and moves her tongue higher to tease the blonde's throbbing clit. Millie's hips twitch against Rachel's face and her loud moans vibrate against your own clit. You throw your head back your hands clutching Millie's blonde hair as you curse loudly.

Your thighs start shaking, a second orgasm coming quickly since you're already very sensitive. Rachel decides this is the perfect moment to take Millie's clit in her mouth and suck. The blond stops working her tongue against you with her head so full of oust and pleasure. You whine pitifully at being denied but soon enough Millie sloppily takes the swollen bud in her mouth and your mouth drops open in a silent scream. It doesn't take much for you to come again with a yell of Millie's name.

You fell boneless on the bed next to her and watch breathless when Millie threads her fingers through Rachel's hair and tugs her closer. Rachel, you think, always looks so unbelievably attractive like this. On her knees with her face pushed against a wet and hot cunt her expression dazed and completely pussy drunk. Millie is close, you can tell with how her hips seem to be out of control and how her legs are wrapped around Rachel, twisting and pressing down on the sides of her head.

Millie comes with a low groan but keeps Rachel's face pressed against her core using what strength she has left to ride out her high on the blonde's tongue. Soon Millie lets her best friend escape and Rachel comes up for a filthy kiss, letting the defender taste herself on her tongue.

You quickly notice that Rachel is still wearing too much and most importantly the woman has been so focused on Millie and you that she hasn't come once tonight. Your eyes brighten dangerously when a great idea pops in your head.

"Rach is wearing way too much." You turn to Millie who is now propped up on her elbows watching her best friend with a hunger in her eyes. Rachel shifts her eyes from you back to her best friend and her face flushes red at your predatory gazes. Millie finds her dominance back and grips Rachel's thighs to drag her up the bed. Rachel's surprised yelp is muffled by Millie's eager mouth. The defender easily dominates the kiss and tugs Rachel's bra off. She doesn't waste any time before she roughly gropes her breasts and moves down to suck and bite the soft flesh.

Rachel bites her lip to stop any noises from escaping because the blonde always embarrassed about being loud. You move from the bed to the drawer underneath the bed and pull out Rachel's favourite strap to use. Seven inches proud, this strap is rarely worn by you since Rachel has a hard time taking it but this was a special occasion and after all you won't be the one to wear it.

You take the harness and turn to the two women on the bed. Rachel is now completely naked hips grinding down and desperately trying to find much needed pleasure against Millie's hips. Millie pulls back when she notices you, much to Rachel's dismay, and her eyes widen comically when she notices what you're holding. Rachel gasps when she sees her favourite strap and gulps when she realises that she'll have to take the whole thing tonight.

"Let me help you put it on Mills. Baby grab the lube, you'll need it." Rachel scurries off the bed and you make quick work of the harness, tightening the straps around Millie's hips. Rachel hands you the lube and gulps when you motion to her hand with your head. Rachel squirts a gracious amount in her hand and looks directly at Millie's eyes when she takes the strap on her hand, slowly moving her hand up and down. She coats the strap in lube and makes sure to put enough pressure so the strap presses against Millie's clit.

When Rachel deems the strap ready she happily lies down and spreads her pegs for you and Millie, her pussy glisening with arousal. Millie grips her thighs and positions herself, ready to enter Rachel until you stop her with a hand on her stomach. She looks at you confused but you only grin, throwing a teasing glance at Rachel.

"She can't take that yet. Let me get her pussy ready for you."

Rachel whines and hides her face in her hands but the embarrassment is soon overtaken by pleasure when you enter her with two fingers. You make sure to go slow and give Millie a good show, scissoring your fingers and stretching her tight hole. Rachel moves her hips in time with your thrusts but it doesn't do anything to help, the shallow and slow thrusts only serve as teasing. When you meet no resistance you add a third finger in and Rachel throws her head back with a frustrated groan.

"I can take it! Just, fuck, get on with it!"

You chuckle at her desperation and slowly take your fingers out, turning to look at Millie who's eyes are firmly locked on her best friend's dripping pussy." What do you think Millie?"

The blonde doesn't answer, instead she takes the strap in her hand and runs the head up and down Rachel's folds. Rachel's breath stutters when the head teases her hole.

"Fuck Mills stop teasing -"

Rachel's sentence is interrupted by a loud moan when Millie finally enters her, pushing in only a few inches of the thick appendage. Rachel spreads her legs wider, a clear invitation for Millie to go deeper.

The taller woman goes in and out with short but powerful thrusts slowly pushing the strap deeper. Rachel tries to keep quiet but she's fighting a loosing battle. The length of the strap keeps going deeper and deeper stretching her out in ways she's never experienced before. You lay next to her and your hand goes to tease at her nipples while your mouth creates new bruises on her neck.

"No need to do that love. You know I love how loud you're. And you know you're too much of a slut to keep quiet anyway."

Rachel whimpers and clamps down on the strap and Millie groans at the resistance. You perk up and grab Rachel's knees pulling them up until they're almost by her ears. The new angle allows for a better angle and Millie pushes the strap all the way down, her hips flash against Rachel's.

"Gods, fuck! Millie harder!"

You simply stared amazed, Rachel had never been able to take the whole thing before. But with the help of Millie she was being pounded into the mattress seven inches moving in and out of her. Millie's eyes moved from Rachel's face, filled with pleasure and flushed red, to her full tits bouncing in time with the strong thrusts. You decided to help by bringing your hand to her neglected clit, the sensitive bundle of nerves twitching and throbbing. Rachel almost screamed when you started rubbing hard circles against it.

"I'm close, don't stop!"

Of course she doesn't, instead Millie starts moving her hips faster and Rachel's voices closes up as her moans turn into sharp breaths. The most prominent sound in the room is the lewd sound of their hips slapping against. Rachel finally comes with a scream and Millie collapses next to her exhausted.

After a long shower session, cuddle time was due. Rachel was bundled in your arms with Millie next to her. Your usually over confident girlfriend was quite timid and very sore after the pounding she received so she was content with laying in your arms while you and Millie talked.

"This one won't be able to walk tomorrow, you know." You say and tap Rachel's hip teasingly."And since it's your fault you're going to carry her wherever she wants." Rachel only smiles against the soft skin of your neck when Millie gasps.

"I was that good wasn't I?" Millie gloats after a few seconds of silence.

"Oh rubbish! I can make her take a bigger one."

Millie scoffed and Rachel slapped your stomach.

____________________________________________________

#wlw #female reader #smut #woso #woso smut #woso imagine #woso x reader #millie bright smut #millie bright x reader #millie bright #rachel daly smut #rachel daly x reader #rachel daly

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firesnap · 6 months

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So tired of sometimes I'll be sitting around and something will remind of the disaster of c!Tommy's dsmp finale and I just think about how easy it would have been to fix it. Everything today, with the time of year, has reminded me of it and now I can't get it out of my head.

Like, they could have had him plan to leave. Have him either decide to go after Wilbur, not because he needs Wilbur, but because he understand why Wilbur needed to get out of there. Like if you weren't going to kill the antagonist of the series, which means Tommy would never know peace, then free Tommy at least. Break the c!Crime cycle too of Tommy following Wilbur because that's just what it does and change it up to he's not following, they're just ending up in the same place because it's something Tommy wants.

Or they should have killed the bad guy. Ideally. And end with Tommy finally building a home that's not out of dirt. Have him write a letter to Wilbur saying he gets why Wilbur needed to leave to show he's now longer in that frenzied depression over it. Have him and Tubbo become settled and happy without that looming threat of harm to them or someone they care about. But we know why someone would never let that happen.

There were so many easy options for how to end it right there, but Tommy got suckered into being told that a reboot of a server that people struggled to do anything on and had been essentially dead for a year was possible.

I dunno, like the angst person in me secretly loves that Tommy's last arc was just him spiraling because Wilbur was gone but like... the story person in me is going "is that really how they wanted it to go when they were setting up Tommy to be this big pov arc at the start of everything. It's just depressing." It's also been done before. The cycle of Wilbur leaves Tommy's life and Tommy becomes depressed, reckless, and subjected to horrors had happened twice at that point and knowing it never changed is just a downer.

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wosoluver · 20 days

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To undo a mistake

Part 4/17 - previous - next

Lena x Bayern player!reader, Ana Guzmán x Bayern player!reader

That therapy session was... something. To say the least. Your eyes puffy once again.

We didn't talk much. I practically just dumped all my problems to her. But it felt good to get everything out, to someone who wouldn't judge you but also wasn't allowed to give too much of her opinion.

When you walked out, Ana wasn't there yet. So you just decided to sit and wait.

It took her around 10 minutes to show up.

"Hey. Have I made you wait for too long?"

"No, not at all. So do you want to go get some coffee? I'm out of practice today and you probably don't have many friends here yet."

"Your the one that looks like you could use a friend. Let's go. You drive, I don't have my license yet."

"First of all, ouch. Second of all, let's go. You'll be my passenger princess." - You said it excited.

Lena never really let you drive, you were always the passenger princess.

And you quickly tried to wisk the memory away.

You were both in comfortable silence in the car. Only the sound of Ana's music playing in the back. And yes you were forced to give her the rights to dj. Passenger princess' rule number 1.

You stop at your favorite place. It was never too crowded, which you were thankful for.

"I'll go order, what do you want?"

"Whatever your having, is fine."

After ordering and getting your coffees you go sit on a quiet corner.

"So, how are you adapting to Germany?"

"Oof- it's so fucking cold here. Not even in the coldest winters we get this temperature in Colombia."

"You'll get used to it after some time. A few jackets and coats and you're good."

"And you? Had a nice time in therapy?"

"Oh yeah. So much fun!" - you answered equally as ironic.

"I can tell by your puffy eyes.

I think today was my first time not crying in there."

"Must be hard. I've never had a bad injury. But it seems like the worse. Lena went through-" - you cut yourself off before you could say anything else. Your face dropped. Here you were again. Everything you think of, brought up Lena, one way or another.

"And Lena is-"

"My ex. I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking when I said that."

"It's fine. Do you want to talk about it?"

"No." - but then you proceeded to dump everything that had happened into the conversation. - "It's just, my head is still trying to wrap around everything. She already has a new girlfriend. And I'm still dealing with my feelings.

She broke up with me, over the phone can you believe that? I never felt so meaningless, so betrayed. Our five month relationship thrown into the trash. All of that, because Munich is too far from Wolfsburg for her taste."

"Wow, you had a lot to say for someone that didn't want to talk about it." - she said that hoping it would easy the anxious face you had going on. - "It's okay. Time works differently for different people. You have the right to mourn your relationship.

Is that what has been driving you down?"

"Yeah, I just wasn't ready to see her. I'm still in love with her. I mean was. After what happened Saturday, I think it might be time to except it's over."

"You still had feelings for her? Even after what she did?"

"Yeah. I guess I was just hopeful. I felt like in some way things weren't over yet. I just- It just didn't make sense. Lena is not that type of person. She would never do that."

"But she did. Look, if she meant to hurt you or not, you'll probably never know. Unless you talk to her."

"I am not going to talk to her."

"Then you'll have to settle for the unknown."

"I think I will. Can we talk about your feelings now? I've humiliated my self enough."

"Fine. You were right when you said I needed friends." - she let out a deep breath. - "When I first got injured. I was very hard on myself. Specially after hearing the diagnosis and that I'd have to go under surgery. I stressed my self over when I shouldn't have.

I pushed everyone away.

The hardest thing, when we are hurting, is to remember others are most likely going through something too."

"But that's kind of natural I guess. To be so into your own head you forget about others. It's just- there is such a thin line between being compassionate towards people and putting their needs and feelings before yours. To be honest I've never been good at navigating though it either."

"Yeah, I've been getting better about it I think. Therapy has helped me understand a lot of things. The most important of them, I think it was acceptance.

I feel so much better since I accepted that I have no control over this type of things. I couldn't change it even if I wanted to. I just have to go through it. And soon enough I'll be back playing once again."

"It's good to know your coming out better from this one. Sometimes things happen for a reason, and sometimes it's for the better"

"It's getting late, we should get going."

"Yeah. I'll give you a ride home."

For the rest of the day all you could think about was what you two had talked about.

Maybe you could use some acceptance yourself. Of how things were, and not what you think they should be.

And stop worrying so much about what you had no control over.

That's how it works when you live right? Life happens.

Have you guys been wondering what's been like for Lena? Well next chapter is Lena's pov!

It's still an Obi fic I swear.

I think from this chapter on, it's finally going to be good writing. I wasn't liking how things the previous parts came out.

#woso x reader #lena oberdorf x reader #lena oberdorf #vfl wolfsburg frauen #fc bayern frauen

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atxxzist · 5 months

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sweetest lies | c.s (02)

prev // next // series m.list

pairing: choi san x f!reader

word count: 7.3k

warning: not any i can think of

a/n: not much drama but lots of trips down memory lane

in all honesty, you can't remember when the line between respect and infatuation started to blur when it came to yunho.

you met him at the age of twelve, just as you were about to enter junior high. you had found him crying outside the choi's residence one afternoon, and was shocked by the news; both of his parents' passing and that he was now one of them, because the choi only had one son and he was nothing like the sweet and obedient boy in front of you.

despite him being younger, you had a lot of respect for him because he was smart and treated everyone he ever came across with only nothing but kindness.

yunho wasn't only well mannered and pleasing to the eyes, but he was hardworking--a trait that made him incredibly easy to like, although you did felt bad at times because you were afraid he was pushing himself to meet the expectations of those around him.

but he was never fazed by any of it--the hard work, or the efforts he had to go to. he simply did it because he wanted to.

by the time he finished high school, he had enough trophies, medals, and certificates to fill his entire room.

yunho💕: can we please talk

the sigh that leaves you is both the contrasting combination of irritation but also relieved, because you weren't sure what was gonna happen after last night.

if you were gonna have to be the one to go out of your way to settle things or whatever they are at this point.

you leave him on seen just long enough to be petty, until another text comes.

yunho💕: i'll come to your workplace after you get out?

y/n: 👍

yunho is there and waiting for you just like he said he would, the moment you catch the other's gaze, you think he must've swallowed down some tension. he usually isn't one who's ever nervous about anything.

it's a lot of awkward fidgeting and humming under breaths until you two agree on a bench just outside of the office, just about when the area's cleared of most of your coworkers.

it's like an air of dreaded silence, considering you've never got into a fight with yunho before, the moment feels never-ending.

"h-how are you feeling?" he asks, everything about his voice to the question surprising you.

a part of you wishes he had said something else, or at least for the delivery to come out meaner just so you'll have another reason to get over him and not think about the million others why you can't.

"how do you think i'm feeling?" you reply, a little snappy in nature that yunho almost wants to be surprise by the tone, but he knows better than anyone that that's just how you are.

you have a way of showing emotions, often times flip flopping between vulnerable and cynical, the latter of which he always believe to be a defense mechanism.

"sorry..." he mumbles, like the word falling out of defeat. "i should've told you sooner. i mean... i was going to."

you can't help the scoff that slips despite yunho doing his very best to make the conversation as tame as a situation like this can be. but you suppose you also hold some rights to complain and be a bitch about it.

"yeah, but you didn't. i had to walk in on you and my own sister myself."

yunho recoils from the sentence, your delivery poking at something he's not sure what is, but he knows he don't like it.

"i didn't know you were coming," is all he says, calm in his voice but also ominous to a degree.

you cross your arms, continuing to stare ahead. the entire time, the both of you haven't looked at the other once.

"i was able to get off early and texted you like a bunch of times."

"i don't always have the constant need to check my phone, so i'm sorry."

he's apologizing, but there's an impatient edge to his voice that if you just continue pushing it, he will burst; at least it feels like it, the undertone of his response not sitting well with you.

a moment of unpleasant silence passes before you speak again.

"so it's true what san told me? all this time, you've always had someone else? and you've never thought of telling me any of it?" that same hurt and betrayal multiplying by the second just bringing up the reminder.

you add on, "and of all people, that someone is my sister? just when exactly did it even fucking happened?"

yunho opens his mouth to say something only to retreat with a sigh instead, waiting for just long enough in order for the appropriate words to strike.

"it just kind of happened naturally, i guess."

naturally. it stings more than it should, the visual in your head of the progression day by day as your sister's smile or small quirks catches the interests of yunho to the point he falls for her, and she falls in return.

that he sees what everyone else sees, and it's the part you hate the most.

the attraction toward one another built on a foundation similar to gravity where one cannot help but to be pulled toward each other. unlike you and yunho. even if you were magnet, he most likely still wouldn't stick.

no matter how much you try pushing the thought away; know that you're being immature and unreasonable, bitter is a feeling you've always acted on.

consumed by the jealousy and rage that your sister once again, took something from you.

"oh... i see," you murmur, yunho could've missed it if he wasn't next to you, but he can hear very clearly how your voice drops after, following with a dry chuckle that makes him turn head.

"tell me, what is so special after her?" you hold his gaze, your head now tilted as the mean and mocking look in your eyes says everything. "what made you fall this hard when i was the one who was actually by your side?"

now you're starting to really push it, yunho doing his best to contain the brewing temper but you have such a way with words that knows how to hit exactly where it hurts.

"she's really that fucking good, huh? that you--"

"--stop talking about your sister like that!"

the outburst takes you by surprise, your body flinching at the sudden crank of volume, yunho sounding and looking the most angry you've ever seen since almost 11 years ago when a group of boys were picking on you.

"can you for once, leave your sister's name out of your mouth?"

his heaving chest and stern look on his face is something entirely new. you didn't even think yunho could ever be this pissed off about anything before.

it leaves you speechless, your mind scrambling for something to say in return just to make yourself feel a little better.

"this is exactly why i couldn't tell you," he says, now calming down but still serious as he runs a hand through the front of his hair. "i knew you wouldn't be able to face the truth."

“because he didn’t want to hurt you,” he unveils, much to your stunned reaction. “he knew you’d lash out and act exactly the way you did when you saw them back at the party.”

"and what would that be?" you push, really setting yourself up for all the hurt and pain that's about to come because yunho is absolutely right.

"that me and your sister love each other."

his words sink in like a bad ache, your brain still refusing to accept the pain receptors but it's all very real. the heavy and uncomfortable sensation running through your chest and the curling of your grip as they tighten.

you don't wish to hear any more of how perfect they are for each other, or more specifically, how more perfect she is for him than you.

"but i love you, too."

it's awful and cringe and makes you regret it the second it comes out, but you literally couldn't think of anything else.

"no..." yunho talks under his breath, shaking his head. "i'm not sure you've ever really loved me."

you draw back slightly, the puzzled expression on like he's accused you of a crime you didn't commit.

"i don't think you love me," he finishes off.

yunho didn't want to tell you (just yet) for numerous reasons. the fact you wouldn't be able to accept the truth is one thing, but he mainly held it back for this long because he didn't want to hurt you.

no matter how frustrating you can be at times, often than most acting on impulse and letting the unreasonable voice in your head get the better of you, he didn't want to be another someone who had let you down.

disappointed you and tossed you away; and for your sister of all people.

he grew up with you and watched as you go from a somewhat lively and carefree person to the one you are today.

how, you actually used to love and care for your younger sister, always by her side to protect her and fend off anyone who thought any less of her.

he's watched and sat through dinners and social events of family members comparing the two of you, able to vividly recall the both embarrassed and sad look on your face when they'd all praise her instead.

how much prettier, smarter, and better she is than you.

and he was definitely there when your parents sidelined you for your sister's accomplishments, over the years also a witness to the relationship that soon turned sour and leaving a huge wall between you guys.

he can't remember the last time you two even spoke to one another without all the lingering tension and bitterness up in the air.

so he more than anyone knows how much of a sore spot just talking about your sister is, the prolonging of the revelation one that is to protect you from the hurt he knew you'd undoubtedly experience.

but he's afraid that it's been going on too long; the need to tear the band aid right off and tell you everything for what it is.

"of course i love you, yunho." your soft tone rips him from the thought and to the desperation in your eyes.

"if you love me then you would be happy for me."

you've never been shy of letting such a thing be known, whether saying it outright or making implications of it. yunho always well aware to the fact that you've been silently hoping he'd take matters into his own hands one day and ask you the long awaited question or say those three words.

but truth be told, even if it wasn't your sister, it would've been someone else.

not because he don't think you are wonderful and worth loving in your own little ways, but because ever since he turned 18 and graduated high school, his cognition much more developed and refined, he was sure of a suspicion he had quite some time ago: that you don't actually love him. at least not for the right reasons.

"how can i be happy for you when it's her of all people? you know how she makes me feel!"

that all or most of it is just to one-up your sister, this twisted game having turned into obsession and masked under the pretense of love, succeeding in convincing yourself to believe it as well.

"i know that you've spent all your life being compared to her, and i understand... but don't you think it's time to grow up a little and start facing those issues?" his voice turns a serious, reprimanding tone without coming off too harsh.

"i'm not some trophy to be won over to prove who's better, and just because i like your sister doesn't make you any less. i'm sorry that the adults were so awful to you growing up, but it's time you start loving yourself. not look to someone else for validation just to feel better temporarily, but i want you to be happy..."

he pauses to catch his breath, an empathetic expression washing over before closing it off.

"i should've told you sooner, i'm sorry. i was a coward. but i don't want to carry any more baggages or be responsible for someone else's entire self esteem. let's free ourselves... from each other."

you stay quiet and yunho's not sure what to make of the lack of reactions, but although he's said everything he's always wanted to, the guilt blooming in his chest weighs heavy; it's always been too easy to sympathize with you.

another reason he's sure made you cling onto him as hard as you did, was because he was really the only person to accept you for who you are.

yunho never asked for anything, or for you to change.

if someone was to tell you that one day, you'd go out of your way to look for san, you would've laughed and told them to go fuck themself.

but you're standing in front of the door to his condo--somehow surprisingly able to recall the location just from the trip earlier today, and silently going over everything currently wrong with your life and how you have no one else to talk to about your problems but san.

the one person you swore up and down to that you wouldn't even give the time of day to if you and him were the last people on earth, but now seeming like the only option.

you place a few knocks but for all you know, he might not even be home. he could be back at his parents' place or fucking off somewhere else.

the door comes apart when you were least expecting it, san's figure standing before you with his black shirt, sweatpants, and hooded beanie.

his rather dull pair of eyes turning a wide one when he sees it's you. it's not everyday that you'd come waddling through the front of his doorstep. or at all.

"i thought christmas is still a month away," he remarks lightheartedly, the comment honestly slipping before he can even fully process the strangeness of the situation, or the fact you obviously look like you had been crying.

"can i come in?" you ask, the soft, vulnerability of the question takes san a step back because he most definitely expected a snide comment in return.

"yeah, sure..." he replies hesitantly, widening the door and moving aside but unable to help but be suspicious that at any given moment, you just might come clear it’s all just a cruel joke.

you stay still in position, gaze fixated on the interior that you saw this morning until you hear the shutting of the door and snaps around.

"missed the place already?" he lets another one slip, a smirk at the corner of his lips that prompts an eye roll from you.

but he might just be doing it because he's not sure what to make of a conversation if you're both not spewing hateful things to each other's faces, or that he just remembered what he said to you this morning and feels just the slightest awful about it.

the complete and utter silence from you makes the scene both uneasy and unsettling, he lingers in the awkwardness for a few more seconds before opening his mouth, only for you to beat him with words that's been dying to get out.

"i'm uhm... i'm sorry," you utter lowly, sounding and appearing ashamed by the way your fingers fiddle with each other at your front, san almost can't believe it.

"pardon?"

"i'm sorry, about this morning."

because all it took for you to realize how pathetically nonexistent your social life is, or that you practically chased off anyone who has ever given the slightest fuck about you, is that other than yunho, you're not sure who else to confine in.

who can stand you and listen to your problems; and now that he's the cause of it, the lack of a support system you have is quite eye opening in a depressing sort of way.

"oh," he says, sounding similar to a whisper and eyes downcasting to the floor for a quick second. "it's fine, really. i didn't think too much of it."

not of what you said because you've definitely spewed worse things before, but he did think a lot about what he said and how carried away he got.

you might've called him a manwhore and told him to fuck off more times than he can count, and he'd retaliate with sensual remarks bordering offensive, but there seems to be some kind of unspoken ground rules between the two of you and he might've broken it.

he still grew up with you nonetheless and holds some weird, sentimental value over the fact.

you just nod, both of your body language so unusual and the atmosphere oddly pleasant.

he breaks the silence with a rather heartfelt apology, "i'm also sorry. that was a really mean thing to say."

"no." you shake your head to rebut. "you were right. i was just in denial."

your mind races back to the departure not even two hours ago, like you can almost hear yunho's voice through the flashback.

"you should probably start heading back. it's cold out here," yunho says, the swift glance at your attire makes him wonder how you're not shivering just yet.

"i can walk you to your car," he adds.

"i'll be fine."

your cold, cut-throat tone stops him dead in his track, yunho only able to stare as he tries to predict your next movement.

"you can go."

the words die in yunho's throat, a tiny protest on the horizon but he knows it's best if he leaves you alone for now. take the time to dwell in your own emotions as you try to process the changes, and eventually and hopefully, accept them.

he nods, clearing his throat the same time he stands up and takes one last look at you, giving into the last thing he wants to tell you.

"i hope you won't think of it as a loss, but instead, i want you to see it as an opportunity to find yourself."

"also, thank you for looking after me last night. if you didn't, i most definitely would've ended up on the news, or worse."

san's stoic expression soon morphs into a somewhat cocky smile at that, one eyebrow raising to complement it.

"this day cannot get any weirder. i mean, not that i'm complaining." he shrugs, and it makes you want to yell at him for ruining the moment.

"no, really. thanks to your stalkerish behavior, i was able to wake up in one piece," you snark playfully, half expecting him to be offended, but it has the opposite effect with his smile growing even bigger.

it's not the first time he so shamelessly takes pride in the fact.

most of your greetings or first words upon seeing him always within the line of "did you follow me?" given ever since your parents got acquainted with the neighbors next door and forced you kids to get along, choi san has had a knack for following you since the mere age of nine.

you still remember his much smaller figure back then trailing behind you and around the entire perimeter of the gated community, annoyingly pleading for you to play with him or else he's gonna wipe his boogers on you.

he was very much a kid of his words and had done exactly what he said he would when you told him to get lost, smudging your new shirt with what he'd call "shrek" because he was a disgusting nine year old boy who liked to name his boogers.

it was the first out of many that you made him cry, retaliating with a hard push to his shoulders that sent his frail body to the cement, and in turn, got you in trouble.

(if you try that now, you'll get it handed to you)

it was the start of your dislike for him that only seemed to grow the older you two got. because san went from being a defenseless little kid whose most threatening act was to tell your parents, to a middle schooler with wider, meaner vocabularies, and by the time he entered high school, you practically had no chance against him.

if he wanted to corner you in a room or put another of his snot on your new shirt, you were just gonna have to put up with it.

"how do you, by chance, always know where i'm at?" you ask genuinely, thinking back to all the instances he just so happened to be there.

"you're predictable," he simply says, making you raise an eyebrow in response, wondering if that's the case or if he just pays way too much attention to you, which, you never fully understood.

you both existed to piss off the other person, but san always knew more about you than the other way around.

"hmm," you dismiss it with a hum, followed by a pretentious act of checking the surrounding because you have a big favor to ask him, and your lips at the moment feels like they don't want to cooperate.

"san," you call even somewhat sweet-sounding, it might be the calmest you've ever said his name, watching as some kind of amusement takes over him and he reacts with a head tilt, hands shoved inside the pockets of his pants, replying with a cool, "yeah?"

"can i stay over? just for tonight?"

you almost expect him to crack a snarky comment, something in the fashion of how he's been waiting for this day where you practically get on your knees and beg for his help, but where you're predictable, san is quite the surprise.

he doesn't drop any smart comments or take the very tempting chance of rubbing your helplessness in your face.

he just nods and proceeds to state, "but you're gonna have to tell me why you're here."

you scoff.

"you literally already know why i'm here."

you think you're gonna go crazy if you have to retell (and relive) yours and yunho's 'relationship', and how disillusioned you were in all of its expectation.

"yes, but i'm gonna need to know how you managed to piss off so many people for you to show up here of all places."

you didn't have many friends growing up, san recalling you being tough as a nail and frightening most of the kids away, girls and boys.

most of the time, if you weren't busy sniffing yunho up who was right by your side, you were alone at a table ripping stickers from sticker sheets and decorating the journal he's seen you with since the first day he got moved to the same school.

he still doesn't know what's in it, but he knows you gave a kid a black eye once when they tried to steal it.

the only other people he's ever seen you with besides yunho, were hongjoong and seonghwa.

it was during his first ever college party, an invitation by a fellow classmate and now friend, mingi.

he might've had far too many drinks that night and a small makeout session that left his shirt wrinkled and neck stained with kiss marks that he just needed to find a restroom and get cleaned up; it being the first party and all.

that was how he winded up near the hallway of you and two males, one of them leaning on the wall with a drink in his hand, and the other debating with you as both of your voices fight to become the dominant one.

none of you guys noticed him as he quickly slipped into the found restroom, too entirely distracted by your own interests.

he assumed they were sophomores just like you, and he was right.

he wasn't as surprised that you were even capable of making new friends, but more so at the fact that yunho wasn't there.

probably the only instances he'd see you at a social or public event without yunho was when you were with them, sometimes even using either hongjoong or seonghwa to locate your whereabouts because you were whatever they were at.

his and your friend group even started banters on the occasion and just do stupid party shit together sometimes.

but by the time you were about to graduate and leave school, you stopped hanging out with them for some reason he never dared to ask.

it was a bummer for sure because san's never seen anyone just click with you as much as they did.

"it's complicated," you tell him when he finally brought up the question, seated across from you on the single sofa while you take occupancy of the big, modular one.

similar to how you've dealt with most of your problems, you don't like talking about it or reopening wounds of the past. but if you're gonna be using san as a getaway, you figure you owe him at least an answer.

something about his current state and attentiveness a telltale sign that you can trust him. though to be frank, you never felt threatened or endangered with san having so many knowledge of you in the palm of his hand. oddly.

you tell him of the last conversation you had with hongjoong before the both of you declared you two were better off without each other.

the conversation a heated one, but neither about stupid politics or gross food combinations.

one that ended nastily and with a lot of bad feelings that leaves enough grudge to fill an entire room, unable to bear the sight of the other for more than a minute at most.

"tonight. at chan's party. he said he can hook up some equipments and i can just bring my laptop. so it's like a reveal party or whatever," hongjoong informs over the phone.

"oh shit, tonight?" you repeat, pacing around your room to find something to wear.

"yeah."

"i uh... i can't," you break the news, catching yourself in the mirror and recoiling almost immediately because you know how much of a shit friend you're about to sound. "i promised yunho we'd catch a movie. i'm actually getting ready right now."

the silence from hongjoong's end makes you nervous, but it wouldn't be the first time you blew him and seonghwa off for yunho.

you realize that day, you have a limit, and it would only be fair that so does others.

"it's just a movie. can't you reschedule?"

the shift of tone going from cheerful and excited to impatient takes you by surprise, having to scramble quickly for what to say in response.

"i can't. yunho's gonna be busy for the rest of the week."

"okay? so am i. it's probably still gonna be in theaters for the next couple of weeks or so anyway."

"i already said i'm going and we're leaving in like 20 minutes," you say, the annoyance in your voice very clear to hongjoong.

"it's a fucking movie, y/n," he states, the more careful tone from before all gone, unable to believe you. "you're acting like it's not gonna be available online a month or two from now."

you fume through your nose, time running shorter as you spend it arguing with hongjoong over the phone.

"and it's a fucking song, hongjoong. show me on your laptop or send it some other time. beside, i already told you i'm not going to another college party for the rest of the year. they're always so filthy, filled with stupid people, and i always end up making bad decisions."

hongjoong scoffs from the other side and you don't miss how dry and sarcastic it sounds.

"i'm asking you to come listen to a song i've been working on for almost two years, not for you to come snort some fucking coke."

"well it's too late. you should've called earlier."

"maybe i should've, but i also thought you were gonna be better than this and not leave your friends for a guy who barely gives a shit about you."

granted, you both did say a lot of fucked up things that day that neither can take back, and you were, undoubtedly, furious at the time (and especially at that comment) and only thought of how to hurt him the same in return.

the guilt passed with time, but you wouldn't ever tell him that you knew you were in the wrong. everything all your fault because you always placed yunho above them despite knowing that deep down, the two cared for you and treated you like family.

they always looked out for you at all parties and never pressured you to do anything you didn't want to. all the stupid, bad decisions were by your own choice because you were too sad and depressed and didn't want to hear any more of your sister's acceptance to one of the big three universities, nor read another email from one of your professors about withdrawing the class before you'd most likely end up with an f.

but you're too prideful, selfish, and a bit ashamed, you won't ever admit it to hongjoong's face. especially not after all these years.

"that's it?" san exclaims after you finished.

"well, yes."

"if you know you were wrong, you should just apologize. nothing good about prolonging some bad blood. especially when it could be easily mended."

you admit the scene is a bit bizarre; san giving you advice and you sitting calmly as you try to digest his words that doesn't trigger a nerve, because for once, it actually sounds somewhat reasonable, though unrealistic (according to you).

but you suppose it's what this night is gonna be all about.

"it's not that easy," you counter, "a sudden apology all these years is... weird."

san chuckles, picking up the manner in which you curl your hands together in your lap as you said that.

it's hard to take your tough act seriously sometimes, because he can see the guilt or fear in your eyes and that you just want to give into it.

"yeah, and look at where that behavior got you," he says, not mean or intending to hurt. if anything, he actually takes sympathy on you "stuck talking to someone you don't even like."

you twitch an eye for a second at that.

"but i'm not having too bad of a time so far."

"hmm," he hums, quick to move the topic along. "i suppose you haven't eaten?"

"i had lunch... a couple hours ago."

well, it was more a snack that you had gotten from the vending machine because there was no time this morning.

"i could probably whip up something real quick."

you watch as he stands up and trails to the kitchen, opening and closing cabinets left and right before a smile quirks up on his lips.

"buldak or shin ramen?" he waves both of the packages as he awaits an answer.

"shin ramen. i don't feel like destroying my stomach tonight."

he nods it off with a light snicker, your lips puckering from the silence after and deciding to throw in a lighthearted tease.

"i thought you were gonna be making steaks or call for delivery."

he looks up from the pot he was washing and sends a smirk your way, completely unfazed.

"i'm a 23 year old guy, of course i don't know how to cook. but if you want to call for delivery, suit yourself."

"if you're gonna be living by yourself, it would be beneficial to learn how. but i'm good with just ramen for now," you reply, eyes moving away to wander the area before fixating on san again.

"you have any extra towels?" you ask.

"should be in the bathroom."

"okay. then i'm gonna head in for a quick shower while you do that."

you can see his nodding from where you're at, stopping as you have the bathroom door halfway open and looking over your shoulder to bother him with one last question.

"uh, do you have any extra shirt and shorts i can borrow? just for tonight. i'll return it by morning. i've just literally been wearing this thing for almost two days now," you refer to the red dress, not as satin or clean as it was yesterday.

your boss almost went into cardiac arrest when you showed up with it, considering the strict dress code, but he took pity of a story you made up and was honestly just relieved you even showed up at all—though you did get a written warning for the late arrival.

"i should. you can go to my room and pick them out for yourself."

you're a tad taken aback by the freewill but thanks him anyway before going into his room and taking the first black t-shirt and shorts you see because it feels wrong in every way even if it isn't.

you catch the sight of him humming a tune under his breath and rocking his head to it before you disappear off into the bathroom, releasing the giggle you've been holding.

"this is definitely overcooked," you pass the comment while examining the soft, mushy, yellow strands of noodles in front of you.

"i might've gotten distracted," san explains, sitting in the stool beside you on the kitchen island where he might've been for a while, it makes you think back to the soft call of your name after you finally got out of the shower and stuffed yourself into his clothings.

"i gotta give it to you. it takes a real lack of skill to mess up something as simple as ramen," you poke fun at him, the words more casually sounding than anything because you're used to putting him down, but still taking a sip of the broth nonetheless because he worked hard on it--more or less.

he smiles it off, and even while guzzling down the noodles, you don't miss the way his gaze lowers to your chest, and then legs, prompting you to cower just slightly because it's just you and san in a big, almost empty condo.

san's good at making you feel a lot of things, but nervous and flustered usually weren't the cases.

"you look good in it," he says casually, your heart bursting in relief because you have no idea what the hell you thought he was gonna say.

you look down at his shirt you're wearing before meeting his eyes again, mustering an unnatural sounding, "thanks."

you return to your food and let the thought die, but san's gaze burning the side of your face makes you snap back.

"what's wrong?" you ask, and you can see him tensing up from the question.

"so what after this?" he breaks it clear and direct, though filled with joy just sitting and talking to you, the air never this nice and pleasant before, he's also curious to an extent. about you and the steps you're gonna take.

you shrug, releasing the spoon and chopsticks in your hold before engaging in a silent stare-off with him.

"i haven't given it much thought. i was kind of busy burying my relationship with yunho, whatever that is."

he lets a quiet hum of acknowledgement coast by, figuring it's fair enough you would need time, only for you to start talking again.

"but there are things i've always wanted to do, too," you tell him a little shy, because it must sound crazy that you also have your own dreams and wants beside yunho's attention.

yunho was many sources of your happiness, but he also held you back in many ways. not he the person, but the ideals and expectaions you've built for him.

you've had a lot of chances and opportunities to better yourself, and you threw them all away for a fantasy in your head.

true friends, ambitions, some sort of true calling that you're not existing just to exist--you don't have any of those at the age of 24.

"yeah? and what are those things?" he asks, so much enthusiam, you want to believe he actually cares what you have to say.

"it's not that big of a dream or goal," you say with a chuckle, like he might find it ridiculous. "i just want to... travel."

you await his reaction, your heart wrapped in a foreign warmth when he just smiles.

"a dream is a dream. no matter how small or big," he comforts you, "but traveling is definitely not anything small. where do you want to go?"

"everywhere," you answer, "i want to go to many places... but preferably anywhere but here."

he cranks an eyebrow.

"you're not planning on running away, are you?" he questions, the delivery innocent enough but also slightly concerned because he thinks there's a chance that might be exactly what you plan to do.

"no," you reply, giggling only shortly.

"i hope you won't think of it as a loss, but instead, i want you to see it as an opportunity to find yourself."

you're still mad at yunho and hate how he chose your sister over you, but if anything, you hate how reasonable and logical he still managed to sound amid all of it.

that you pretty much placed everything else on the backburner just for the hope that his reciprocated love would fix the sorrow and unhappiness you experience on a daily basis.

"just brainstorming," you assure, "thinking about what i can do, now that i don't have to consider yunho and leaving him."

leaving him for your heart's desire, so afraid that you would let the chance slip right through the palm of your hand if you did. but now, there's nothing left to lose and you suppose it's a conflicted and warped up feeling of freedom.

san nods to it, snapping himself out of the trance and catching just how immersed he was to every word that you said.

"i should probably finish the noodles before it gets cold," you say, once you realize how long it's just been sitting there while you two talked.

you get two gulps out of it before you're pulled away by a question.

"why do you care so much about what others have to say about you and your sister?"

he's aware it's a bit blunt and inappropriate considering how well it's going, but he doesn't say it to be mean but because he wants to understand you.

he's been there and has seen as much as yunho have, watching you throw nasty glares your sister's way or growing irritated at the drop of her name.

he knows there's psychology behind how all of this works (that he's unfortunately lacking of knowledge about), but he wants to hear it from you. why you always put yourself down and chooses to live in your sister's shadow when you're as equally capable.

"you wouldn't understand," you mumble, refusing to look him straight in the eyes although he isn't shying away from it one bit, going to pick at the noodles with your utensils.

"if you tell me, i might."

the shift of atmosphere is heavy, the air no longer lighthearted but now serious as silence fills it briefly.

"is it because you're insecure from always being pitted against her?"

you still don't answer, instead taking a bite out of your bowl and hoping he'll just let it pass because you're aware in some ways that you're gonna sound unreasonable, childish, and petty.

just an older sister jealous of her younger one because she's better in every way.

but you've always been one to sit and brew in your own emotions and anger until they eventually turn into something much worse.

"if you want some help, you need to talk to me. i understand you might not want to, but i promise i won't run off with the information or use it against you. i'm much better than what you give me credits for."

you swallow and drop the utensils, facing him on and releasing a sigh.

"yes," you say, "i care so much about what others have to say about me and her because i already know they'll just talk down on me."

"and why would you assume that?" he asks.

you scoff, as if he's making you state the obvious.

"because i always fall behind on everything. even small things like socializing and making friends comes so much more naturally to her," you say, strong at first but tapering out eventually. "but it's not as easy for me... i-i find it hard talking to people or trying to make friends."

and even when you do, you seem to have a habit of driving them away.

san takes a deep breath and stares at you in pity.

"but you shouldn't be measuring your worth based on your sister's accomplishments or setting her as the standard. comparison sucks, i understand. and i know it's easier said than done, but you're great in your own ways. trust me."

you don't say anything back, not because you don't want to, but it's how your heart takes a dive and leaves you speechless hearing san tell you that.

a light pink blush makes an appearance on his cheeks but he's quick to move it along with a clear of his throat.

"what i meant to say is, i've been there before. you really think i was spared any of it when yunho of all people is my stepbrother and i'm the biological son?"

you suppose if she was your stepsister instead, it might be a lot worse.

but with san, he's always been nonchalant like nothing ever bothers him. it would be a lot easier for him to dismiss it.

"well if only i could be as carefree as you," you mumble.

"it definitely bothered me at first, but i didn't see why i should be losing sleep over it. me and yunho are two very different people after all who does our own things. i'm proud of what he's achieved so far, and he's always had my back when needed."

when the night drags on and you're both getting too tired for overwhelming conversations, you go to bed in the spare bedroom after helping him clean up and let today's event sink in. so many things to process at once.

despite all of yours and san's history and indifferences, you can admit that there may be a thing or two you can learn from him.

so unusual seeing his irritating and cunning self turn so much more soft and empathetic, you're starting to feel bad for all the times you've cursed his name over simple mishaps.

thinking back to what he said earlier and being surprised he even had the kindness to do so.

"comparison sucks, i understand. and i know it's easier said than done, but you're great in your own ways. trust me."

that san would be able to make one of your worst days into something a lot less worse and even comforting.

then you think about yunho, wondering if he's right about the fact you never loved him, before drifting off.

when san wakes up in the morning, he almost forgot you had stayed over until he makes way into the kitchen and the yellow sticky note plastered on the front door takes his attention.

thanks for letting me stay the night :) you're kind of pleasant to be around when you don't think with your dick. btw i left your clothes in the laundry basket. see you around i guess - y/n

next // series m.list

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#ateez angst #san x reader #choi san x reader #ateez x reader #ateez series #yunho x reader #fic: sweetestlies

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b0r3dtod3ath · 10 months

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Ok so I have had this idea for a while and it’s like Wilbur and reader are married and they decided they wanted a baby.and like how Wilbur is with you during the pregnancy and after you have had the baby.

a/n: pls, i'm in such a dadbur mood bc of you. i love this concept. i even started rewatching all the wilbur an tallulah clips (edit: i named the kid tallulah bc why not)

warnings: afab reader, mentions of trying to get pregnant - nothing smutty, mentions of infertility,

word count: 1.5k

masterlist

You always knew you both wanted to have kids, you spoke about it many times but it was always limited to the phrase "one day". You and Wilbur were happily married for about 6 months before the final decision was made. The comfort of settling down and feeling established in your late twenties added to the feeling that something was missing. You had a stable income, Wilbur was happy doing music. You loved each other, in fact there was so much love that you felt the need to give it to someone.

Getting pregnant wasn't as easy as you thought. Sure, it had its benefits but for some time it was a struggle. Nevertheless, you were there for each other all the time. It started to become a bit stressful for you. What was wrong? It shouldn't be that hard to do. Maybe you weren't necessarily sad, but you were disappointed or sometimes even angry and started losing hope. Wilbur noticed that your attitude has changed. He knew that as your husband and the dad of your future kids he had to take care of you. He held you every time the test came out negative, he would talk to you - a lot of the time praising you for how strong you were. He didn't want any of you to be alone with their emotions. Like he said "it was teamwork". "Maybe we just have to forget about this, try not to overthink it. Let it be. I feel like it's taking a toll on us. If it happens, it happens, if it doesn't, it doesn't" he said while you were laying in his arms on the couch. "And how do you imagine this?" you say not understanding how you could just "stop thinking about this". "I think we are under too much pressure. Constantly checking, doing tests. Let's stop this. Lets stop all this baby making and obsessing over damn lines on a plastic stick. We stopped making love. That's the key. We started treating it like a task".

It wasn't easy but with time you two stopped thinking so much. The topic came back when you started feeling nauseous. It was unusual for you to vomit and you have even fainted once. Wilbur knew something was different this time and suggested taking a test. Who would have thought that two tiny lines would make two people this happy. Wilbur immediately showered you with kisses, hugging you tightly. He was constantly repeating "We're gonna be parents, I'm gonna be the dad, you're gonna be the mum, we are having a babyyyy. MUAH''. Holding you with one hand on your lower belly Wilbur called his mom not wanting to wait anymore to share the news with her.

The only problem was that he was supposed to leave for tour in a week. He insisted on canceling the shows and staying at home but you disagreed. You would be alright, it was gonna be less than two months, everything was gonna be fine. With a bit of arguing he agreed on leaving. "Please tell me if anything happens, update me all the time. You know, I don't want to miss out on anything and I want you two to be safe and healthy." he said hugging you, his chin resting on your head. "I know, I will. Don't stress too much, please. The tour is gonna be over before you notice". You know your husband had a tendency to panic a bit. You appreciated him being literally overprotective but you never wanted him to feel stressed. He had asked his mom to visit you every week just in case. She was so happy for you two, she knew you were going to be great parents but she also knew you had a lot to learn. She was very helpful - not only did she do what her son asked her to do but also she gave you a lot of support in terms of any questions or fears related with raising a child. However, Wilbur called everyday, even a few times a day. He was constantly asking how you were feeling, if you were alright.

Wilbur told his friends about the pregnancy but he decided not to reveal it on the internet yet. When he got home he didn't leave you alone for even a minute. He never missed a doctor's appointment, he would always get the food that you were craving (even if it meant going to the store at 2 am) and he helped you in the most basic tasks like tying your shoes. He was constantly on a search to make this time easier for you. "Honey, you don't know how strong you are for carrying this baby" he said as he laid on the bed next to you. He rested his head on your belly trying to hear something. You hand went to brush his hair. God, you wished the baby had his hair. "What are they telling us, huh? Have you heard any messages?" you said jokingly. He scrunched his face as if he was really focused "Wait, wait. Oh! I think they are trying to tell us something, captain! They say they would like to join us on board very soon!". Wilbur has developed a habit of keeping his head next to your belly. Having a hunch that the baby can hear him, he would often sing lullabies or slow little songs that he came up with. He knew his singing calms you down as well as your child.

Thankfully, your daughter was born healthy and strong. Wilbur was scared that once you go to labor he will panic, but actually he did a great job at keeping it cool and doing his best. Although, It probably was the adrenaline that helped him. Either way, you were both very happy and tired. You were out like a light while Wilbur was seated in a chair next to your hospital bed, newborn in his arms (he wasn't used to it yet so it felt a bit unnatural) as he was gently singing.

The baby was definitely daddy's girl. You could have sworn he has some sort of talent when it comes to kids. Wilbur woke up to the sound of your baby crying. His tired groan filled the room as soon as he realized your side of the bed was empty. The floor let out a creek as he carried his way through the hallway. As he opened the door he saw you standing in the middle of the room, slowly rocking the baby. You turned around when you heard him “I fed her, I changed her diaper. I don’t know what is wrong” even with dimmed light he could see small tears forming in your eyes “Oh honey, I’m sorry.” he kissed you on your cheek. “You little trouble maker” him taking the baby was like lifting weight off your shoulders. You loved being a first time mother but it was tiring and caused a lot of stress. Sometimes you felt that the baby loved Wilbur more. The tiredness made you more clingy than usual as you held your husband that was trying to make your baby fall asleep. After a while of you three holding each other and gently swaying the cries quieted down. After Wilbur put the baby down he looked at you “Aw, baby, you're about to fall asleep on your feet. Now let's get you to bed”.

When the little one got bigger you started going for walks with her. A bit of sunlight and fresh air never hurt anyone. It was also a great way to use some of her energy. As you were to leave the flat you send a quick text to Wilbur letting him know that you are going out. “Here honey, hold my hand” you said to your daughter as you were approaching a crosswalk “Where’s dad?” “Dad’s at work. Don’t worry, he’s gonna be back for dinner”. You could see that she wasn't very pleased but quickly got distracted by colorful wildflowers that were growing near the sidewalk. As she was picking the flowers you heard a ping “Wanna come to the studio? Boys insist. They haven’t seen Tallulah in a while”. Wilbur’s bandmates were like uncles to your child. They have seen her grow up, they like to play with her and sometimes they babysit her for you and your husband to go on a little date. You didn’t want her to distract them from finishing the album they were working on but they missed her so you gave in. “Sweetie, how about you pick some flowers for your uncles and we go visit them”. As soon as she heard you she had started running around trying to find the best flower for each one of them. On your way to the studio you barely kept up with her. She ran up the door and started knocking but it was still too quiet for them to hear so you gave Wilbur a call. Once he opens the door she quickly hugs his leg and continues to chaotically run up the stairs. Not wanting to wait any longer to meet her uncles she leaves her giggly parents behind.

June 29 2023

#writers on tumblr #fan fic writing #wilbur soot imagine #x reader #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur imagine

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alexawynters · 5 months

Text

Scarlet Whispers pt. 3

Gif not mine

Master list here

Author's Note: Nightmare portion written by @Never_Trick_OnlyTreats on AO3 - I outsourced the nightmare because it was a struggle my first time trying my hand at it, so thank you so much for your help with that scene!

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Female!Reader

Trigger warnings (let me know if I forgot to tag anything): Mentions of past child abuse, ongoing adult child abuse, stalking, horror, dubcon, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, gaslighting, angst, smut. There will be bits of fluff tho.

Rating: M. Minors DNI

A few days pass as you and Wanda settle into a rhythm, which you are currently referring to as a roommate situation. You hesitate to label it anything else since other labels seem... unbefitting. Everything feels so complicated, and you find yourself with more questions than answers. Whenever you try to ask Wanda about her plans for you, she distracts and flusters you, causing you to forget what you were trying to ask in the first place.

After casually exploring the grounds, you notice that Mount Wundagore no longer looks the same. Instead of the gloomy stone temple in the mountains, Wanda has transformed it into an idyllic countryside cottage. The weather outside is always perfect, with a gentle crisp breeze and the sun shining just behind the clouds. It feels like a perfect autumn day. The small cottage is surprisingly spacious inside for something so small, with multiple rooms including an office, living room, gaming room, quaint kitchen, and a library that you’re pretty sure resembles the one from Disney's Beauty and the Beast. There is only one bedroom which you and Wanda share, though Wanda frequently reassures you there is no pressure from her to do anything.

You are amazed by the witch's incredible powers and the careful consideration she put into creating your new "home". It seems as though she knew exactly what you wanted and turned it into a reality. The thought and effort she put into making it comfortable for you warms your heart. As always, after some time passes, you can't help but wonder when reality will catch up. You still have exams to complete, job applications to submit, and a life to live. When will you be able to return to that? Surely you couldn’t stay here forever, life simply didn’t work like that.

Wanda made an effort not to leave you alone for too long, especially if she knew you wouldn't be engrossed in an activity that would occupy your time, like playing a video game. When asked where she was going, she would dismissively say she was ensuring your safety, being intentionally vague on the details of what that entailed. You never fully believed her, partly because of the intense look in her eyes. However, she could easily distract you from her plans, and if you insisted, a brief glow from her eyes would suddenly have your mind immersed in another activity, causing you to completely forget what you were originally talking about.

The witch didn’t like to use her powers on you excessively; it felt like cheating. Nevertheless, she couldn't afford to have you scrutinizing her actions and movements too closely, especially when she would return, often covered in blood, from removing any possible threats that might have been trying to take you away from her. She couldn't risk you questioning her and discovering the truth, not until she had complete control over you. Wanda needed you to desire and depend on her, and for that, she needed your trust and happiness.

Most days, you would wake up with Wanda's arms wrapped tightly around you. Early on, you discovered that she preferred being the big spoon, and you had no complaints about it. Once she held you, she wouldn't let go anytime soon. While initially awkward for you because you weren't used to physical touch from others, especially from someone you found so beautiful, she made it easy for you by never demanding more than you were comfortable giving. When Wanda woke up, her raspy voice, and thick accent, would greet you with a good morning, usually asking if you wanted breakfast.

That was another adjustment you had to make - having regular meals. You had become so accustomed to skipping meals and practicing intermittent fasting that you originally felt a bit queasy when you learned that Wanda wanted you to eat three full meals a day. At first, you declined her offer, but Wanda insisted, after she somehow managed to make you admit that you had been practically starving yourself in an attempt to lose weight. Because of this, she was insistent that you would now have three meals a day, and that you would eat all of them in her presence. Although you felt a bit annoyed by said insistence, you secretly appreciated her concern. You remembered how your mother would praise you every time you went down a pant size, unaware of the fact that you were going days without eating to achieve it.

After breakfast, Wanda would ask if you wanted to watch a movie or go to the library to read a book. If you chose to watch a movie, she almost always let you pick. Once in a while she would decide what to watch, you found it endearing to learn that she enjoyed classic sitcoms such as Dick Van Dyke, and Bewitched. If you opted for the library, you both had your own books to read, snuggling together in the nook by the window, enjoying the warm glow of the sun.

For lunch, Wanda would usually prepare it herself, using fresh herbs and ingredients from her garden. At times she would ask you to accompany and help her, you always agreed. Unable to help but follow her around like a puppy. If Wanda wanted you around, you were happy to be included.

After lunch, you would either watch more movies or play video games for a few hours. Some games were multiplayer, where you would take turns beating each other at Mario Kart. Others were single player, where Wanda would ask you questions about the characters and the plot, or why you made certain choices in the RPG. Unlike when other people in your life had asked, you loved answering any questions she posed for you.

This went on for a few weeks, but eventually, you needed to know what the future held for you. One night, while Wanda held you as you were drifting off to sleep, you decided to ask, knowing in this moment there was nothing she could use to distract you.

"Wands?" you asked, quietly. If she was actually asleep, you didn't want to disturb her. Part of you almost hoped she wouldn't answer, dreading breaking the spell of the last few weeks.

The redhead hummed her acknowledgement.

"I-" You curse yourself for faltering so quickly. You knew you should have rehearsed this in your head at least a few more times.

"I don't mean to sound ungrateful. The last few weeks have been... nothing short of... the most amazing of my life. But what are we doing here? I've missed finals. I have to go back and reschedule my proctored exams to see if I can still take them or if I have to wait for another semester. I need those to get my degree so I can get a job and start my life. As much as I appreciate spending this time here with you, when do I get to go home?" Your voice is quiet, afraid you have upset the witch who has shown you nothing but kindness. Probably the most kindness you have ever experienced in your entire life.

Although you can’t see it, Wanda’s eyes emanate a deep red as she delves into your mind in search for the source of your thoughts. Once she is satisfied that she has identified the core issue - your desire for independence and refusal to burden others - she begins to reassure you.

“Darling, why would you ever want to go back home to those.. people? After the way they treated you? Besides, you don’t need your degree, a job, or any of that. Everything you need, I can provide for you. It’s no trouble at all, detka, I promise you. You have no idea how… happy… I am that you are here, and I would do anything to keep you that way.” Her grip on you tightens slightly.

You can't fully grasp the extent of the truth of her words, or the extreme measures she has taken to bring you to this point. From your perspective, your parents, the very individuals who were meant to love and care for you have harbored resentment towards your very existence your entire life. The thought that this woman, a mere roommate, who has already done so much for you, could one day develop the same resentment for you as your own parents is agonizing. You don’t want to overstep your welcome in her life.

You have some idea of the lengths she has gone to. You know she has crossed universes to find you, although you still cannot understand why. You are not her deceased lover, and you never will be. Despite sharing the same genetic makeup, you are unsure if you could ever measure up to someone so courageous. It all still feels too good to be true, as if she’s gone to too much effort for someone like you. You worry that she will be disappointed when she discovers the truth - that you are not good enough. Accepting her kindness feels like an act of deception on your part, even though that couldn't be further from the truth.

You fidget uncomfortably. It hasn’t occurred to you that you have been silent for some time until you feel slender fingers running themselves soothingly through your hair. “Oh detka,” she whispers softly, her voice compassionate. “They really broke you, didn’t they?”

Your boy stiffens as you feel the unmistakable sensation of lips pressing themselves gently to the crown of your head, resting there for a moment. Surprisingly, the urge to flee doesn’t come as you had expected, and you allow yourself to relax into the witch’s embrace.

Wanda takes a moment to contemplate her phrasing. "You could never be a disappointment to me, darling. Even if you don't have powers like your other self, or if you never return my feelings, I don't ask for any of that from you, Y/N. All I ask is that you stay here with me, and I will take care of everything. Let me help you, rebuild you. Let me love you, and you won't regret it, I promise, darling."

You consider her offer. It sounds appealing. Nonetheless, you can't help but feel cautious. After all, nothing comes for free. You also feel uneasy about how effortlessly she can read you, leaving you vulnerable and defenseless. While you don't want to offend her, you have reservations about the idea.

"Wanda, I... I appreciate your offer. That's incredibly kind of you, but we can't stay here just the two of us forever. That's not healthy, and it's not how the real world works. I don't want to trade one prison for another, as beautiful as it may be," you add, trying not to offend the witch.

"I like you, and I would love to get to know you, but I also want to go out and live my life. Ideally, I want to have a job, a home, and friends of my own outside of these walls. We can still visit each other. Do you understand?" you ask, turning in Wanda's embrace and hoping she can see the sincerity in your eyes. You've never truly experienced freedom before, and now that it's within reach, you're unwilling to let it slip away so easily.

A range of emotions flicker across the witch's face before a stoney mask settles over it. "The world isn't safe out there, Y/N. Why do you need a degree, a house, friends when you have me?" Her voice grows louder in her exasperation, causing you to shrink in fear. "I can create anything you need. Isn't this house enough for you? What don't you like about it, hmm? With a wave of my hand, I can transform it into anything you desire."

Her voice turns frustrated. "Why do you even want to work? It's not enjoyable. Wouldn't you prefer to spend your time here, with me? You can do whatever you like, and I can provide for us. You don't have to worry about anything. You don't need anyone or anything except me!"

By now, her voice has practically risen to a shout, and you are recoiling in fear. After all this time with the former avenger, you had forgotten how powerful she was. She had only done her best to provide for you and care for you, asking nothing in return but your presence. Suddenly, you understood why she felt like you might be ungrateful, and you only had yourself to blame. Shame and fear roil in your gut. Still, it had been a while since you had felt fear like this, not since she had taken you from your parents. The only thing keeping you in her arms is her unnaturally strong grip on you.

"W-Wanda," you whimper. "Please stop, I'm sorry."

Realizing she has scared you, Wanda takes a slow, calming breath, in an effort to de-escalate herself. She knows that she won't earn your affection if she continues like this, but the redhead is furious at your lack of gratitude. Wanda has put in so much effort to create your ideal life, and yet here you are, wanting to return to the misery of the "real world."

The witch mentally scoffs. She has grown tired of this argument that she has already had with you multiple times. Not that you recall, of course. Each time seems to end the same, and Wanda is frustrated that she never manages to clearly express her thoughts on the matter enough to convince you.

With a wave of her hand, red phosphenes surround your head, and you unwillingly close your eyes, drifting into a magic induced sleep. The argument is long forgotten by you as she holds you tightly. Something must be done to suppress this independent streak of yours. If you can't be molded to accept her as your provider, then you will be forced to accept it. She considers that perhaps she will have to have a firmer hand in manipulating your mind.

It's not ideal, but Wanda is unwilling to risk losing you. She has already come so far and done so much. As she gazes upon your sleeping form, she contemplates the rules she has broken for you, both in terms of human laws and magic. The people she has murdered.

It would devastate you to know that after those first few nights, Wanda had gone back and eviscerated your parents, and decimated your home. There was nothing redeeming about them. Yes, she had promised not to harm them, but after witnessing all they had done to you and seeing your panic attacks during those first few nights, the witch couldn't restrain her anger. Unbeknownst to you, there was nothing left for you to return to.

To have come so far only to lose you now? Wanda closes her eyes, tears sliding down her cheek as she envisions the consequences if you were to find out. Her heart aches at the thought of your possible rejection. No, the witch thinks firmly. She cannot bear to lose you. She is willing to wait indefinitely, to do whatever it takes. At this point, what do ethics and morals matter?

She would never force you to love her, but Wanda is not above subtly influencing events to win your affection. If that means making a few alterations to some of your memories, so be it. The witch drifts off to sleep, her body wrapped possessively around yours, as you dream on, unaware of the danger you are in.

You know the minute your eyes open that this dream isn’t like the others. You’re lying in bed next to Wanda, but you can’t shake the sensation that something is wrong. You carefully slip out of her arms and pad softly to the door, opening it as quietly as you can. You can’t quite explain it, but the need to run is screaming inside your mind, an echo of the countless other nightmares you’ve had. As soon as the door latches behind you, you take off. If you can just make it to the front door, you can be free! It should only be a few more feet, after all… but the hallway stretches before you impossibly, and that dark laughter you recognize all too well rings in the darkness around you.

Just keep running, you urge yourself. It can’t be much further. Yet with every footfall you find yourself no closer, and her laughter only seems to grow stronger as you push yourself to run faster. In your peripheral vision, something slithers, but each time you turn your head, there is only the dark hallway. The sweat pours from you, and you realize that you will never make it to that door, that freedom. You sink to your knees in that godforsaken, never-ending hallway and feel the despair swell inside you, just as you feel a familiar presence behind you. You turn slowly, terrified to face her…

You wake up suddenly, your body snapping up in bed, rigid, and ready to run. Although you can't remember the specifics of the dream, your shirt is soaked with evidence of your fear. A cool hand gently presses against your sternum, rubbing soothing circles on your body.

"You're alright, darling. It was just a bad dream. You're safe here with me," reassures Wanda with her soothing, raspy voice, thickly accented in the early morning. "Lie back down, Y/N. It's still early, and we can still sleep." Strong yet comforting arms pull you into a warm embrace, and once again you drift off into the darkness of your dreams, this time blissfully free of nightmares.

Time passes in a similar fashion, with Wanda taking care of you and keeping you entertained. During this period, you found yourself becoming increasingly drawn to her. Wanda had made it clear that she had no expectations of you other than your presence. She didn't want you to replace her deceased wife, nor did she expect you to have romantic feelings for her. The witch simply wanted to be near you and protect you.

This was a new experience for you, as genuine altruism was not something you had encountered often in your life. True to her word, Wanda never pressured you for anything more than you were willing to give. As a result, you found yourself developing feelings for the older woman.

It would strike you with sudden clarity in the most unexpected moments. The redhead would laugh with you during a movie, her hand coming up to cover her mouth. This endearing sight and sound would bring a tender warmth to your soul. At other times, she would be busy in the kitchen, preparing one of your favorite meals. As you helped, you would occasionally feel her hand caress your lower back as she passed by, ensuring you wouldn't bump into each other, while managing to avoid being intrusive to your orbit.

Some of your favorite moments were when you could just exist in your own world on your Nintendo Switch, wandering through the halls of your home. Sometimes, you would nearly bump into a wall, just like you often used to at your old house, but instead Wanda would gently guide you back on track, while she continued doing whatever else she was occupied with - usually being on her phone or reading a book.

She would follow quietly behind you without saying a word. She never made you feel bad for being clumsy and uncoordinated. In fact, she didn't seem to consider it a problem at all. A simple gentle touch to your side for adjustment and a quiet "hmm" to get your attention, but she never made a big deal about it. Her actions made you feel cared for; even if you still worried about inconveniencing her, she continued to insist that you weren't.

Wanda always wanted to know what you were thinking but made an effort to ask instead of simply taking that information from your mind at her leisure. Conversations with her could last for hours, with topics flowing effortlessly between the two of you. Rarely did you two run out of things to say. Even when you did, the silence was not overwhelming. To your delight, you discovered that you could coexist in the same space, each doing your own thing, and still feel content in the other's presence. You had never felt this comfortable with anyone before.

There was one day recently that stood out in your memory. Wanda was making adjustments to the house, and you casually mentioned how the drapes in the library could look prettier if they were a different color. You suggested that a new color would make the room brighter and more inviting. Without hesitation, Wanda took you to the room you had referenced and with a flick of her wrists, used her magic to make the change.

It was these little things that caught your attention and made you feel seen. This particular instance made you believe that she genuinely cared about your opinion and was willing to make the effort to meet your specifications.

As Wanda changed the colors and asked for your opinion, all you could focus on was how incredibly beautiful she looked. She was in her element, completely at ease with herself and her abilities. Put simply, she was stunning, almost otherworldly. Your mind didn't even process that she was asking about the color of the drapes when you replied in a soft, breathy whisper, "Perfect."

Upon hearing the tone of your voice, the witch paused in her actions and looked at you with curiosity. She didn't need to read your mind to understand what had happened. A delighted smile slowly formed on her lips, completely charmed by you. Part of her wished to take this moment and playfully flirt with you, since her favorite activity was causing you to become flustered. Instead, she decided to cherish it as a sweet and endearing moment, and let you get away with it.

"I'm glad you think so, darling," she said in a soft, knowing tone, and you realized you had been caught nonetheless. Bright red bloomed across your cheeks, reaching all the way up to your ears.

You mumbled a quick "The colors look great, Wanda. Thanks," before hastening to escape her scrutiny.

Although she didn't want to, Wanda allowed you to make your escape. She bit her lip as she watched you flee, knowing that you hadn't experienced much kindness after enduring so much trauma. Seeing the progress you had been making brought her a great deal of happiness. Maybe one day you would be receptive to her advances, but for now, she would be patient and give you the space you needed.

She didn’t often actively read your mind these days, you still had yet to master shielding your thoughts from her. Not that she wanted you to. Additionally, being so familiar with your other variant, she was intimately aware of your mannerisms and facial expressions. While there were some differences and new quirks for her to learn, she found that she loved each new aspect she discovered. Wanda almost couldn't wait for the day when you would finally be hers completely and when you would embrace her love for you the way she desired.

You were growing more comfortable with her, Wanda could tell, simply by observing your reactions to her. The way your body would relax and lean into her touch, the way you appreciated the small gestures she did for you and how you tried to assist her wherever you could, even when she didn't necessarily need it.

Wanda certainly couldn't mistake the lingering glances you would give her when you thought she wasn't looking. She knew you would never objectify her; the few times your thoughts did wander in appreciation, were often followed by an immediate scolding from yourself. But sometimes, she wished you wouldn't get after yourself so harshly. Wanda wanted you to see her in that way. Craved it, even.

Unfortunately, you didn't seem to understand the distinction between objectifying someone and appreciating them. Throughout your life, your parents conditioned you to believe that you were a predator of some sort. Consequently, whenever you felt any attraction towards someone of the same sex, self-loathing would kick in almost immediately, accompanied by a deep sense of shame. Your conditioning making you believe that you were no different from a man on the street who harassed women, thereby making them feel unsafe.

As you quickly left the room, you couldn't help but notice the way Wanda's knowing gaze had lingered on you. You intended to spend the rest of the day hiding out in the gaming room, trying to process what had just happened. Your Imposter Syndrome was rearing it's ugly head, making you doubt yourself. While Wanda's constant reassurances that she only wanted your presence and nothing more had been comforting in one way - at least you didn't have to worry about her making any inappropriate advances. However, another part of you had begun to wish she would, inspiring deeply conflicting emotions in you.

What if Wanda never saw you that way? Someone like you could never hope to measure up to a superhero. You were simply... you. Knowing that she was the widow of your Avenger variant left you feeling inadequate to say the least. Besides, what if Wanda was being honest about not wanting anything more from you? What if all you were to her was a means to get over the grief of her lost wife?

It was this thought which sparked a new fear within you: what if, once she finished with you, the witch simply discarded you like so many others had and moved on? Your stomach tightened into knots, and your breathing quickened. Thoughts raced through your mind as you realized how much the idea of being abandoned, now that you finally felt at home for the first time in your life, terrified you.

If she grew tired of you, your only choice would be to return to your parents. Considering the way you left, it was unlikely that they would welcome you back with open arms. While you were only a few exams away from completing your degree, it dawned on you that you had been constantly stressed and overwhelmed long before Wanda had come into your life. Did you really want to go back to that? Was having a job after earning the degree even worth it? You had few, if any, friends, and if they weren't upset with you for disappearing for however long you had been gone, it would be a surprise. You had nowhere to go.

As your thoughts spiraled and your body froze in place, Wanda could practically hear your unshielded anxiety screaming at her all the way from the library where she had remained. At first, she thought maybe there was an intruder within their home, but that was impossible - her wards always alerted her to any external presence. No, she realized the threat must be internal. Fear gripping her, Wanda waved her fingers, opening up a portal directly to you.

The sight she came upon was heart wrenching. You were curled up on the couch, clearly trapped in a panic attack, completely disconnected from reality. Although Wanda had been trying lately to respect your thoughts and not delve into them without permission, she needed to understand the root cause of your fear in order to support you better.

Not that she needed to go far, your thoughts were so loud, but they were also disorganized and scattered, like a whirlwind. It took her a moment to decipher exactly what you were afraid of, but once she figured it out, the redhead regretted not taking more time to reassure you earlier.

"Oh darling, no, hey. Honey, listen to me," she said, kneeling in front of you and taking your hands in hers. She rubbed soothing circles into them, trying to provide comfort. As much as she wanted to pull you into her arms until all your fears evaporated, she knew that unexpected hugs often had the opposite effect on you, as even your Avenger variant occasionally struggled with anxiety attacks.

“Y/N, can you hear me? Can you focus on my voice for just a moment? Please?”

Her soothing voice barely interrupted your thoughts, and if Wanda used her magic just a little to help her reach you, well, that was in your best interest. You didn't move much, but your eyes lost their unfocused look, to meet finally shifting to meet Wanda's, indicating that you were paying attention.

“Darling, you are perfect, just the way you are. I will never discard you, okay? I didn’t come this far to let you go. This is your home now Y/N. Our home. And I’m never letting you go, alright? I don’t expect you to be a superhero, Y/N. I like you just the way you are, and I would never abandon you, lyubov moya.” Throughout her words, Wanda was continuing to rub soothing circles into your hands, occasionally straying up your arms to grip you reassuringly.

“Can you breathe with me please? We’re going to take some slow, deep breaths. In for four, hold for four, and then out for four, okay Y/N?”

You nodded, blindly following her words.

The former avenger spent the next few moments guiding you through breathing exercises. These exercises were designed to calm the parasympathetic nervous system, and as she went through them with you, she continued to speak quiet reassurances and hold your hand. The goal was to keep you grounded in the present moment. She wanted you to focus on what you could hear and feel, while also settling your breathing.

It worked. Within a few minutes, you regained your calm, or at least as calm as you could ever be. This wasn't the first panic attack she had witnessed from you, but it was certainly the most intense one. The way Wanda always came to your rescue, assuring you that it was perfectly normal to have these moments and helping you recover from them, made your heart melt a little more for her. Especially when she brought you back to your shared bed, helped you change into your favorite comfy pajamas, and snuggled up next to you for a nap to help you overcome the episode.

Truly, Wanda was your savior.

A/N 2: I've never done a taglist before so I hope this works? @dorabledewdroop Chapter three, hope it lives up to expectations!

#Wanda maximoff x reader #dark!wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x f!reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #dark!wanda maximoff #dark!wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #dark wanda x reader

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flame-resistant · 9 months

Text

You were so warm, he just wanted you to hold him a bit longer.

Content: He was just trying to understand how you saw him. All he got was more confusion.

Hating was such an easy emotion, one he was programmed to feel from such a young age. Everything made him itch: the kid across the street eating ice cream, the sickly cute couple making out on the train, the fundamentals of society. It was such an overwhelming feeling, but oh so easy to fall into.

You were supposed to be the same, just like everyone else in this god-forsaken world. So why didn't he itch when you smiled at him? Why did he allow you to put chapstick on his lips? A voice in his head saying it would be so easy to end your life. Just one touch and these new feelings would be gone.

He almost did it. Your napping form was in his bed, next to him as he played another solo round of LoL. Losing was a rare occasion, but sometimes it happened. His master always reminded him that it was an important lesson to get stronger. Still didn't mean he wasn't annoyed when the computer won. Throwing the controller to the floor, he huffed in annoyance ready to sleep off his frustrations. Forgetting you were also in bed with him, the two of you talking before his game. Seeing you however made him stop, the irritable look still plaster to his face. Why couldn't you sleep in your own damn room?

A scratch at his neck was heard as he eyed your form, teeth gritting as it got more apparent he had a bad itch. The only solution he was taught was to hurt, his free hand subconsciously reaching to touch. Just make the itch go away.

Moving just in time, he quickly pulled back. Crimson eyes were in shock, an odd feeling of guilt settling in his chest. He slept on the floor that night.

Avoidance became a norm for him when dealing with you. If he needed something, Kurogiri would speak on his behalf. If you tried to touch him, he would flinch away. Not even allowing you in his room anymore. The same cold look masked the true feelings. A voice somewhere deep asking to be touched again. Just once!

He thought he would lose it when you were hellbent on checking on his wounds. it was a fight, so what? Master said it was good to feel pain, that it would make his hatred stronger. A hoarse voice echoed in his small bedroom.

"Stop."

Eyes looked up at him from your squatting position. Was he really this stubborn? You decided, yes he was. Well, two could play that game. Giving him a stern look, you grabbed his arm. Pulling the hoodie sleeve up to get a better look at the cut.

He could kill you, he should kill you for being so damn defiant. Though that little voice in his head told him to stay put, at least for now.

Your hands were surprisingly gentle, at least for someone who was always treated so roughly. Was this what real kindness was like? He wasn't sure if he liked it or not. As you wrapped the now-cleaned wound, he asked what was on his mind for a while.

"What do you want?"

Confusion was your first reaction, not understanding the context. it took a few seconds to realize he meant what did you want in return for helping him.

"Nothing, boss. That cut just looked gnarly."

Now it was his turn to look at you oddly. Nothing was your response? Really?

"You must be pretty stupid then."

Perhaps, you wouldn't deny that. You did decide to join a terrorist organization, after all, a poor one at that. Shrugging your shoulders, you packed up the bandages, ready to head out when his voice stopped you.

"I didn't say to leave."

Turning back to face the blue-haired villain, you waited patiently for him to speak. At least say something about why he told you to stay. Though from the looks of it, you weren't getting an answer anytime soon. He didn't even look like he knew the answer. The awkward silence continued until he crossed his arms uncomfortably. Eyes squinted in frustration as he tried to understand why you even cared. Why you wanted to hang out with him, talk to him, just deal with him.

"Do you see me as a child?"

A what? Again a confused look was your take. A head scratch in trying to decipher his conclusion. Maybe you were dumb because you just weren't understanding his words.

"Why would I think that?"

"Because you're nice to me and you said you didn't want anything. So what, I'm some kid now?"

You could tell he was getting frustrated himself, shaking your head you did your best to get him to calm down. You both knew it would end badly if he continued down this tangent.

"No! I see you as a friend, a comrade."

Silence, the tension was thick in the air as he continued to stare you down. At least now he didn't seem offended or at least not wanting to destroy his room. Your words were...different. A friend? He couldn't remember the last time he heard that word. Maybe, just maybe he thought of you as the same. A twitch from his finger, red eyes staring into space as he tried to figure it out. Friends...

"Prove it."

Did he mean that? A hesitant hand reached out to the man, making sure it was safe to do as you pleased. Not seeing any resistance from him, you pushed onward. Your hand now brushed through his somewhat greasy locks, pushing them back to see the scars from his scratching. The other hand moved to his arm, trying to pull him closer. Again, he didn't deny your touch, almost like a puppet just following your lead. Was he used to being controlled? You hoped not.

By the end, he was pressed to your chest as you hugged him. It was awkward, sure, but it seemed he liked it. Or at least was tolerant of it. His eyes closed as you petted his head. You were so warm, he just wanted you to hold him a bit longer. Pulling away after a few heartbeats, you looked down at the mellowed villain.

"Want to play a game, I know you have an extra controller."

A blink as he came back from his daze, but nonetheless he nodded in agreement. You were friends, you said so yourself. It was always more fun to play with a friend.

#flameresistant #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki fluff #shigaraki imagine #shigaraki mha #shigaraki bnha #shigaraki x y/n #shigaraki my hero academia #shigaraki tomura #tomura shiragaki #emotionally repressed shigaraki #just give this boy a hug

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romanoffsbish · 1 year

Text

Going Off Script…

Scarlett Johansson x Fem!Reader

Prompts

"For years I have yearned for you, in secrecy and silence."

Today was the last day on a Marvel set for you, at least that's what the audience is meant to believe after the scene you're shooting today. There's talk of bringing you back for the final film of Phase 2, but for now you'll be leaving due to other projects you'd been slotted to be working on. It was bittersweet, you'd been working closely with all of these people for six years now, and saying goodbye never was easy.

Scarlett was truly the most heartbroken when you told her that you'd be parting ways. She was your scene partner, the chemistry was palpable, and that translated into every press junket. Whenever a project was rolling the two of you were attached at the hip, and on the off months the two of you would manage to link up at random. A lunch here, a mutual party there, and in all the time the two of you spent together you'd found your heart was breaking every rule you ever set for it by falling for her.

———————

Scarlett was a beautiful woman, inside and out. It's not a shock to you that you fell, but she was forbidden, like the apple in the garden of Eve. For most of your time getting to know one another she'd been married, so when she got divorced shortly after Age of Ultron you were stunned, then you were almost hopeful. It's not that you were going to shoot your shot, but before you could even ponder the silly idea she was already talking to another. It truly broke your heart, and Scarlett was none the wiser to your feelings, but she did feel your hurt at the time since you spent all your time avoiding her.

When she finally confronted you at Comic Con a few years ago she could see you weren't doing well, all her anger faded instantaneously, and all she did was pull you in for a tight embrace. Since then you've remained inseparable, you decided to allow her to love you the way she could, and your heart would just have to deal. Still, you are good at keeping your guard up, and that's why you began going to auditions. You didn't have a contract with Marvel like the original six did, you were actually only meant to be in two films, but the chemistry between you and Scarlett secured you a stable role.

Seeking another opportunity felt deceptive to you, Kevin took that chance on you all those years back, and because of your inability to squash your feelings down you betrayed him. You guess he kinda already knew why , because when you told him you were unavailable for the next year it didn't seem to shock him. Instead he gave you a sad smile as he wished you well, and vehemently reminded you that you'd always have a home with Marvel.

Right now you were sat in the makeup chair, getting a fancy face painting as they were giving the illusion that you'd been involved in a scuffle., "Y/N/N, are you sure you have to go?," the blonde, who sat next to you in her red wig, and selected outfit whined, her lips jutted out into a pout that had you mirroring the sad expression., "Yes Scar, for the millionth time, I have to go, I don't think I can turn down the projects I already signed on for.," you chuckled, but truthfully neither of you were amused.

Scarlett settled into her chair with a huff, she never understood why you'd been auditioning in the first place. Of course other projects were fine in the off seasons, but to go out and find ones during Marvel's shoots was ridiculous. She knew you well enough to know something had happened to make you decide to leave. She'd just never considered it was a person, and moreover she never considered herself.

The both of you traveled onto the set together, her hand held tightly to yours, your heart ached at the innocent affection, because it would never mean to her what it did to you., "This is our last scene together Y/N/N.," she whispered, the melancholy obvious in her tone. Lightly you'd squeezed her hand for comfort, and she smiled gratefully., "Yeah, so let's give the fans everything they want."

A clap brought you out of your bubble, you looked up to see one half of the Russo's staring at you and Scarlett expectantly, and once the both of you gave your attention to him he began to instruct the scene., "Okay ladies, remember, you're in the process of making your great escape before Ross could capture you, but Elvira is rather hesitant to leave with Natasha, and this dissension erupts in a fight to end their ties.," you nodded at Anthony, then turned to Joe who had something to add., "Y/N, Scarlett, you have dialogue, but please feel free to improvise, we are in no rush today since this was the final scene, and it would be nice to see you two give this a genuine go.,"

Scarlett pulled you in for a hug, a gesture that the two of you adopted since the second film., "It's showtime baby.," she beamed when you giggled at her deepened voice and words, her heart began to crack though when she thought about this being the last time you'd be doing this, so even though you went to pull away to start the scene she just held you a little tighter, and no one on the set dared to question her.

When she pulled away you watched her wipe away a single tear., "Let's do this thing.," you were always terrified watching her softness evaporate when getting into character, she was a master of stoicism at this point, and you were still just in awe of her talent., "Let's."

"Elvira! Let's go, I have a connection who was able to secure me a jet, and a place for us.," Natasha instructed you, her hand was on your arm, tugging you forward, but you shook her off, and her face contorted into anger, but her eyes showed genuine hurt., "I'm sorry, but I'm not getting arrested for you Vi, so come now, or you're on your own."

The two of you stood still in the set up hallway, staring at each other, both clearly with so much to say, but without the ability to express the words., "Fine, then I guess this is it, after all we've been through together you're just going to give up, hm?!," Natasha once again shouted at Elvira, but you could tell this was Scarlett, something about the way she looked at you like you were breaking her heart lead you to snap.

"For years I have yearned for you, in secrecy and silence.," you said the line, a total improvisation., "But I won't do it anymore Natasha, not when all I ever wanted was to love you, not have to watch you love everyone else.," genuine tears began to stream down your cheeks, the air was tense, and the room was eerily silent., "You never said anything."

"So much for being a spy right?," you bitterly chuckled., "Let's not pretend like you didn't know Nat, you were just willing it to not be the truth.," Natasha took a step towards you, face falling when you stepped back., "Vi, please.," you shook your head, tears flying off your face., "No, Nat, don't lie to make me feel better.," you pulled it together long enough to smile at her., "It's okay, we'll be better off apart, safer even.," you grabbed the handle of your suitcase, and walked off the set, leaving Scarlett to finish.

Natasha fell to her knees, no longer did she care to hide her tears, she was alone now, it was safe to be vulnerable with only herself. Her hand reached into her back pocket, pulling out the only thing she had left of you—a photo from one of Stark's parties, the love was clear in your eyes, but something you failed to see was how her's had shined just the same.

After a few moments of silence, the main lights in the studio turned on, and a roar of applause sounded off., "Ladies, I'm almost certain you nailed it in one take, that was phenomenal."

Scarlett lifted herself off the floor, shoving the photo back in her pocket, then she was looking at you with a fixed glare. Without even paying the men any mind she made her way over to you, grabbing you by the arm, and dragging you to the first secluded area she could find., "Scarlett, what was —.," the blonde shut your rambling down with a passionate kiss to your lips, one that had your brain short circuiting.

"Are you seriously that clueless Y/N?," she asked in a pant, shoving at your chest for an emphasis on her anger., "I've loved you for almost as long as I've known you! My divorce was because of you, but before I could try to get you, you dropped out of my life, and once I had you back I wasn't risking losing you again."

Shocked didn't even begin to describe the state you were in, not only did she actually kiss you, but she has been pining after you just the same. "Y/N, for the love of God say something!," her scowl deepened as you giggled., "Sorry, did you think that was for you? Scar, it's called acting.," you deadpanned, then when her face fell even further you began to laugh wildly., "Oh gosh, I wish you could've seen your face just now."

Scarlett was having none of your games, so she tried to rush passed you to leave, but you were faster, catching her by the arm you shoved her into the wall, an involuntary huff hitting you in the face., "Scarlett, I only disappeared because I couldn't watch you fall in love with another.," her features softened at the confession, as misguided as it may have been., "Y/N, I wish with all of me that you'd have just spoke to me. Those were tabloid rumors, none of them even a bit true, and you even know that now after all this time. I haven't dated since, and that's all in part to my heart belonging to you."

"We're idiots.," you concluded with a groan, one that she met a soft giggle., "Yeah, we are.," then without any warning her arms wrapped around your neck to pull you in for a kiss., "Yearn no more, for I am yours my darling.," you smirked against her lips, then after the soft moment her tongue had slid into your mouth. Deepening the kiss, and had it not been for the Russo's assistant's persistent search, you're not sure just how far this moment would've gone.

"We'll finish this later pretty girl.," Scarlett mused, winking at you in a way that screamed 'This isn't even remotely over.,' it was then that you knew exactly where this was going, and you couldn't have been more excited to get off.

———————

1,859 Words

❤️ Kaitlyn 💋

#scarlett johansson imagine #scarlett johansson #scarlett johansson pov #natasha romanoff #gxg #natasha romanoff x reader #scarlett x you #scarlett x fem!reader #scarlett x y/n #scarlett x reader #scarlett johansson imagines #scarlett johansson x you #scarlett johansson x y/n #scarlett johansson x female reader #scarlett johansson x reader

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