#i also don’t do makeup so?? sorry if i messed something up | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

iluvpjo · 3 months

Note

HII SO I HAD THIS IDEA SOME TIME AGO AND IT CAME BACK INTO MY HEAD YESTERDAY SO :^

Imagine you play a role in pjo maybe silena or something and ure at the pjo premier with everyone else (ure dating charlie) n you and charlie dissapear for a bit and when you come back everyone is confused and is whispering like 'why is she walking so wierd?' SKSKDKDKFK IM SORRY

Also can i be 🌻 anon??

REMEMBER TO EAT ENOUGH AND STAY HYDRATED !!

𝒲𝒶𝓁𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝐹𝓊𝓃𝓃𝓎 𝒲 / 𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓇𝓁𝒾𝑒 𝐵𝓊𝓈𝒽𝓃𝑒𝓁𝓁

(Walking funny w/ Charlie bushnell)

Synopsis: (read the request basically for a longer version) basically u n charlie hangout n when u come back ur walking funny 😋

Warning(s): NSFW! MDNI, I don’t think um there has to be anymore warnings…

Pairing: Charlie Bushnell x fem reader

Word count: 1,315K

Note: HEHE hi 🌻 anon!!! Welcome n ily, also ur brain is so smart n sexc for this!!!

*also guys just so yk if u can’t tell I write fics differently to how I write THIS kinda stuff beforehand 😭 like I write silly here but not during my fics ^^

Send me a request! Here’s my req rules :)

Come find me on AO3!

There were loud yet hushed noises echoing around the bathroom that shielded the two of you from the rest of your cast mates, hiding you both away so you could get a quick quickie in before joining everyone. Inside the bathroom stall the two of you were on each other, your teeth clashing as your skin slapped against skin. It was hot and it was lewd, and you were sure you’d die of embarrassment if the two of you ever got caught like this.

“C-Charlie, hurry.. we’ve gotta get back to the premier!” You complained through your teeth, pouting your makeup covered lips. You were sure that your stylist would kill you for ruining your makeup and hair, your mascara was slightly smudged in the corners from your eyes watering — you couldn’t help tearing up a little when Charlie would stimulate you like this. Your lipstick was also a mess, and Charlie knew he’d have to wash your kiss marks off of his neck at the sink before leaving the bathroom together.

“I know sweetheart, but you wanted this remember?” He asked in a bit of a condescending tone, his lips curling up into a smirk as he kept standing there in front of you between your legs. “I- I know..” You huffed and crossed your arms over your chest, pouting your lips and furrowing your eyebrows at him like you were upset at him. But he knew you weren’t, he simply chuckled and shook his head at your pouty reaction, scoffing and mumbling that you were very ‘cute’ when you acted like this.

“I’m not cu- ah!~” Your complaints were cut off by Charlie when he thrusted deeper inside of you, pressing harshly against your cervix and making your stomach ache a little “Hold that thought sweet girl. Unless you don’t wanna cum?” Charlie tilted his head at you as he asked that with this smug smile on his face. “Of course I do!-“ He cut you off again “Tut. Tut. Then be quiet for me sweet girl, I don’t want anyone catching us like this..” Charlie chuckled a little to himself as he watched you accept and grumble to yourself a little.

Charlie moved you carefully so that you were in a better position for the both of you, you were bent over and your arms were holding yourself against the wall. Charlie was standing behind you, his hands gripped tightly on your hips as he rocked himself back and forth inside of your tight pussy. You weren’t the best at taking it from behind, the position would always be a little too much for you— but Charlie wanted you to take it today. He knew you’d have a harder time staying quiet but he wanted to challenge you, plus he found it really cute how you were trying your hardest to stay quiet (even if you were failing!)

“C-Charlie..~” You groaned out, your legs trembling underneath you as his cock kept hitting against your fleshy insides. Your wet slick was dripping onto him, covering his large cock as well as dripping down your thighs a little. “Yes, my love?” Charlie asked you with a hushed voice, “f-feels good..” You whined out and bit down on your bottom lip to muffle your moans. “Yeah sweetheart? It feels good does it? Let me help you feel even better..” You didn’t have any time to question what he meant, he lifted your right leg up and started hitting inside of you at a different angle which had you close to seeing stars.

You removed one of your arms from holding onto the wall, having to use it to cover your mouth. Your moans were muffled, but it didn’t mean that they were silent “mfhh!~ ah!~ fuckk’” You cried out as Charlie’s cock ruthlessly pounded into you from behind. “Fuck.. Sweet girl, I’m gonna cum..” Charlie warned you and you just nodded at him, encouraging him to just keep going. Charlie hissed under his breath as he had to keep quiet as well, letting out a soft gutters groan when he began to cum.

His cock twitched before spurting out his hot seed which painted your insides white, a bit of his cum dripping from your cunt. Charlie took a moment as he had a breather before he then slammed back inside of you, he felt a little more sensitive but he had a goal to make you cum as well. You threw your head back in pleasure, squirming against him when the tip of his cock entered you deeper and got pressed to the hilt. You couldn’t control yourself anymore and you began to cum, your eyes teary and your legs shakey as your pussy clenched tightly around him and came.

“Fuck’ C-Charlie I love you!~” You cried out as you came, your orgasm hitting you roughly like a huge wave. “I love you too sweetheart.” Charlie helped you as you began to recover from your orgasm, helping you sit up against his chest. Your legs wanted to give out, shaking and hurting from just standing there but luckily Charlie was holding onto your waist now. “Don’t worry sweet girl, I’ve got ‘ya.” Charlie reassured you as he slowly helped you clean up a little and get dressed, pulling your panties up and pulling your dress back down etc..

“T-That felt really good.. L-Let’s get back to the premier before they realise we’re gone!” You told him and tried to hurry, Charlie paused you for a moment as he had to quickly use the sink to wash off the lipstick marks. As he looked in the mirror cleaning himself he replied to you and said “I think it might be a little too late for that dear.” He spoke “What? No.. it’ll be fine, I don’t think they even noticed!!!” You were lying to yourself and Charlie could see it, but he wouldn’t say anything because he didn’t wanna embarrass you.

(There’s more writing btw)

“Hey, where’s Y/n and Charlie gone? They’ve been gone for a bit now and the premier is about to start!” Leah complained and began to fidget in her seat as she looked around for them, her head turning and trying her best to look behind the rest of the people sitting around hoping to find them each somewhere in the crowd. “It hasn’t been that long, has it?” Walker asked her and squinted his eyes a bit, Leah huffed and pulled her phone out to show him the time.

“Didn’t we get here almost an hour ago?” Walker questioned as he saw the time “Like around five I think. They’ve both been gone almost the entire time we’ve been here!” Aryan joined the conversation as he heard the two of them talking. They were all discussing about where they thought that you and Charlie would be that they didn’t notice when the two of you actually joined them, only turning their heads around to see you two when Dior spoke up.

“Wait— why’s Y/n walking like that?” Dior whispered to herself, blinking in confusion as she watched. Walker and Leah leaned forward to look past Aryan and Dior, Walker letting out a bit of a laugh “Haha! She really is walking weirdly. Why do you think that is?” Walker gossiped to Leah and Aryan “No idea.” Aryan shrugged his shoulders.

“Sorry we were gone guys! I uh— we got held up.” You excused yourself and sat down beside Dior, Dior looked over at you and was about to say something until she noticed your flushed face and messed up hair. She shut her mouth, turning away and gigging a little to herself, she knew exactly why you were walking weirdly now. Aryan heard her laughing and looked over at you too to figure out what was going on, and he sorta got a bit of an idea too but wasn’t quite sure.

#luke castellan smut #luke castellan x reader smut #percy jackson smut #percy jackson x reader smut #percy jackson #charlie bushnell #charlie bushnell x reader smut #charlie bushnell x you #charlie bushnell x reader #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #charlie bushnell smut #smut #requested #pjo smut #percy jackson x reader #🌷 anon

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cherryredstars · 5 months

Text

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Age Gap, Penetrative Sex, Oral Sex, Facesitting, Breast Play, Body Worship, Praise, Aftercare

Summary: darlin' hold me while you wipe my tears, fallin’ you say i’m wise beyond my years

A/N: An anonymous request that I LIVE for!!! Inspired by @osaemu's fic.

Word Count: 3.9K (Not Edited)

You should have used waterproof mascara.

You should have known no matter how sparkly your dresses were, how perfect your makeup was, or how pretty you looked, he’d always find attention from someone else who did it ten times better. But you had still hoped. Hoped that on your own goddamn birthday, your own boyfriend would spare you even a second of attention. Instead, you’re tilting your head back outside on his shitty mansion’s balcony so your tears don’t ruin your makeup.

If your boyfriend was going to fuck every girl at this party but you, you wanted to at least look somewhat pretty and not like the sad, lonely mess you know you are. You embarrassed yourself enough when you had stormed up to him, interrupted his groupie make out session, and slapped him across the face screaming about breaking up with him. You can feel your chin wobble at the thought, and you sniffle and blink rapidly at the sky in an attempt to banish the new wave of sadness that courses through you. Best present ever! Your late twenties are treating you sooo well!

The sound of the balcony door opening catches your attention, and you’re quick to hastily wipe the tears streaming down your face as you clear your throat. You turn towards the door, ready to give whoever it is a wavering smile and a, Oh! I’m just out getting some fresh air! The smell of cigarettes was so strong haha! I promise I’m not crazy and go around slapping people on my birthday! But, you’re surprised to see Miguel, Gabe’s dad, standing there with a bottle of beer in his hand. And he's staring at you. You sniffle again, blinking rapidly. Gabe’s almost a carbon copy of his father, minus the ruggedness that comes with aging. Miguel also has the working man appearance to him, rough around the edges from hard work that his son doesn’t have. Miguel looks exactly like your usual type, but of course you had to go for his young, stupid son.

You can feel tears beginning to spill from your eyes again and you turn away. You’re sure he’s going to kick you out, question you on why you’re still here after making a scene and slapping his son in front of everyone. You try to muffle your teary hiccup by placing your palm over your mouth as you rest your elbows on your knees. Miguel sighs deeply, moving to sit on the chair parallel to yours. You turn your head slightly as you catch movement, wet eyes noticing the half empty beer bottle Miguel silently holds out for you. You blink at it for a few seconds in confusion, only understanding that he’s offering it to you when he shakes it slightly in his hand.

You pull your mouth away from the palm of your hand and shake your head slightly as you mumble, “I don’t drink.”

He doesn’t say anything in return, taking the bottle back and taking a sip. You study him for a second, waiting for him to get mad or something, but he just looks straight ahead admiring the view as he sips on his beer. After a while, you do the same. You look straight ahead, feeling the tears dry on your face. Your face feels slightly sticky from the tears, and you have a feeling you’ve smudged your mascara and eyeliner.

Now that you’re not focused on crying all the water out of your body, you realize how cold it is outside. You shiver, only lasting a few more minutes before you’ve decided you rather not die of hypothermia tonight. As you’re about to get up, Miguel speaks up.

“I’m sorry about, Gabe. I don’t know how he turned into such an ass. He’s a piece of shit for making a pretty thing like you cry on your birthday.”

When you turn to look at him, he’s already looking at you. You give him a tight lipped smile, shrugging in mock-indifference.

“It’s okay, I didn’t like him that much anyways, no offense.” Then, to lighten the mood, “I’m not an expert on feelings, but I don’t think he liked me that much either.”

Miguel stares at you like he doesn’t believe you when you say you don’t like him, but it’s the truth. You haven’t really felt anything romantic for Gabe in a while. The only reason you’ve stuck by him was because he’s the only person you really know in Nueva York. But now, you’re all by yourself in this big ass city. At least you love your job.

“Yeah, well, he’s an idiot for letting you go. Trust me, sooner or later he’s going to regret it.” Miguel defends you. He looks personally offended at the thought of his son, or anyone, not liking you.

His words make your smile brighten slightly and you laugh, “Thank you, but I really doubt that. By tomorrow he’ll probably forget I even existed.”

Miguel scowls at that, and you yelp when his hand reaches out and pulls your chair towards his. Your knees knock with his, and you have to hold onto the armrest of his chair to prevent yourself from falling on top of him. You look up at him with wide eyes, breath stifling from how close his face is to yours. Your heart beats erratically as he leans in close, the almost red-brown of his eyes getting more detailed. Your eyes can’t help but trail down to his lips. They’re slightly glossy from his beer, and for the first time, you're tempted to try it.

You’re quickly startled out of your thoughts when Miguel’s hand grips your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his. They’re slightly hooded as he looks down the end of his nose at you, and you gulp nervously. His thumb caresses your skin gently, and you have to work hard to not close your eyes as he leans his face down. Instead of the kiss you thought he was going to give you, he shifts until his mouth is close to your ear.

Your disappointment quickly disappears as your breath hitches. His breath his warm against your ear as he whispers, “He should have treated you like a fucking queen.”

Your heart skips a beat, eyes dropping to your thigh as Miguel’s other hand moves to rest on it. It kneads the plush skin softly before sliding up and fiddling with the ends of your dress. His hand looks so big on your body. You can feel the calluses on his fingers, they’re rough and cracked. Totally different from the too soft hands of Gabe. The hard difference between a man who works hard to get what he wants and a boy who expects everything served to him on a silver platter.

Miguel’s hand begins to slip under the edge of your dress, and your body straightens with your gasp as his fingers skim the center of your panties. You can practically sense Miguel’s smile as his fingers ever so lightly brush up and down. You can’t help the way your body squirms at his touch, thighs threatening to close around his hand. His fingers float higher and higher, until they’re pressing against your clothed clit. You can feel yourself dripping into your panties and you whine.

“I can treat you like the queen you are.”

Miguel’s voice distracts you from his hand, eyes moving up to his face as he moves away from your ear. His eyes are glossy with lust, something hot in his gaze. You can feel yourself clench around nothing, and based on the way Miguel’s eyes darken, he felt it too. His words pound against the walls of your brain, repeating and stretching as you think up of what he means.

In the end, all you can let out is a: “W-what?”

Behind the lust, Miguel’s eyes flicker in amusement. His hand leaves your chin, sliding up your face until he’s twirling a strand of your hair around his finger. “Let me show you how you should be treated. How a man would treat you.”

His proposal burns through your stomach, your eyes blinking rapidly as you breathe in deeply. You can smell the slight tinge of beer mixed with the masculine scent of cinnamon and firewood. It makes your brain dizzy, coaxing you to nod in agreement. Miguel’s hand stops playing with your hair instantly, eyes falling over your face for any sign of indecision. He doesn’t find any, but he still needs verbal confirmation.

“You gotta tell me clearly, baby.” He urges, leaning his face close again.

He’s a millimeter away, your lips brushing against his as you say, “Please.”

Your only warning is the rumbling groan he lets out before he’s catching your lips in a searing kiss. You whine against his mouth, eyes fluttering shut as his teeth nip at your bottom lip. You lean more into him, arms hesitantly coming to wrap around his neck and tangle in his hair. Your lips part when you feel his own hand push onto the small of your back, allowing his tongue to slip through. Both of you moan into the kiss when your tongues meet, the remains of bitter beer invading your taste buds. It should be disgusting, should remind you of all the times Gabe slobbered all over your mouth in a drunken make out, but it doesn’t. Miguel is experienced, knowing where to place his hands and where to caress with his tongue. His lips move with calculated confidence where Gabe would open and close his mouth like a fish.

Right as your mind becomes slightly dizzy from lack of oxygen, Miguel pulls away. His eyes are still trained to your lips, now plump and wet with spit. He hisses under his breath, cherishing the yelp you let out as he quickly lifts you as he stands. Your arms stay wrapped around his neck, only tightening as he sets you into a bridal-style carry. His sudden display of strength makes you clench your thighs. Gabe never offered to carry you, mumbling something about not wanting his arms to get sore. But Miguel carries you like you weigh nothing, even trusting to support you with a single hand as he opens the sliding door and closes it behind the two of you.

The loud music hits you full blast, the smell of nicotine and alcohol following. From Miguel’s arms, you can see Gabe still on the couch with his entourage of girls. Even from the distance and colored lights, you can see the redness of his cheek where you’ve slapped him. You’re quickly forgetting about him again when Miguel starts moving, carrying you up the stairs. He pauses in front of the door two away from Gabe’s. Miguel’s room. He opens it and locks it behind the two of you, depositing you on his large bed.

It smells strongly of him, and you have to fight yourself to not breathe in deeply. His sheets feel heavenly against your skin, caressing it like silk. The mattress sinks under you slightly, cocooning your body. It sinks deeper as Miguel crawls on top of you. Your hips are caged by his knees as he kneels, arms holding him up by your head. They come to rest under your head, pulling you up to kiss you again. The two of you sink back into the bed as your tongues clash, and you squeal when Miguel flips you over so you’ve swapped positions. He chuckles against your lips, pulling away and smiling when you pout at him.

“Shhh,” He smiles, hands sliding down to the zipper of your dress. He drags it down slowly, watching as the straps of your dress fall away and slide down your shoulders, “Let me worship you.”

Your thighs tighten around his waist, blinking down at him as he pushes your dress down to reveal your bare breasts. There wasn’t any need for a bra with your dress having built in padding. You gasp when he surges forward, holding you in place with his hands on your waist as he sucks one of your boobs into his mouth. Your hands tangled into his hair, head tilting back with a moan as he licks and teasingly bites down on your nipple. One of his hands slides up to your upper back, pressing so your chest is pushed against his face. He moans around your nipple, hungrily lapping and sucking as he looks up at you. He’s entranced by the way your lips part as you moan and whine, your neck revealed to him as your face faces the ceiling.

He can feel his cock twitch in his pants, distracting himself by giving your other breast attention. His eyes practically roll to the back of his head as you tug on his hair. When he’s satisfied, he parts from your breasts with a final kiss to both of your nipples. They’re hardened and shiny with his saliva, and he’s almost tempted to go back for seconds. But he has other things in mind. You watch him as he lays flat on his back, the hand at your back returning to your waist so his other can reach under your dress. You gasp, hands planting on his chest as he rips your underwear off of you. Your eyes are wide as he brings them up to his nose, squeezing at your waist as he moans at the scent.

He stuffs them into his pocket, both hands now planted on your waist again. He bunches your dress around your waist, looking like a goddess as all your privates are revealed to him. He picks you up, your hands gripping the headboard as he sits you on his face. The noise you let out is close to a scream as his lips instantly attack your clit, sucking it into his mouth. His tongue is warm against your aching bud, your eyes rolling back with another loud moan when his tongue slides against your folds. You want to cry when he pulls you off his face slightly, his chin already sparkly with slick.

“Gods baby, you’re so sensitive. Gabe never eat you out before?” He teases, but he quickly loses the smirk on his face when you whimper out a no. He rolls his eyes, mumbling out pinche imbécil before diving back into your folds.

You can’t help bucking against his mouth, his nose beginning to nudge at the bud between your legs. He groans under you in appreciation, and you feel it throughout your whole body. You’re a whiny mess on top of him, your sounds drowning out the music from downstairs. One of your hands comes to tangle in his hair to help guide your movements, and his hands start rocking your hips to help out. He can feel you clenching against his mouth, your orgasm close. For a second he debates not letting you finish and instead making you come around his cock. But no, he isn’t greedy. He’d let you have all the orgasms you want. You deserve to be deeply satisfied and fucked out. Plus, he needs to make up for all the times his son failed to get you to your peak.

He’s definitely happy with his choice as you fucking scream his name, back arching as you lean against the headboard. Your thighs twitch around his head, your breath heavy as you whine. Your release flows into his mouth like thick honey, and it tastes just as sweet. He can feel himself twitch in his pants again, and he holds you down to prevent you from getting up. He needs to make sure he swallows every last drop you’re giving him. Has to show you how grateful he is that you’re giving him your sweet release. When he finally lets you off, you do so on numb legs. You roll to the side, chest still heaving as he groans.

“Fuck hermosa, taste fucking divine.” Miguel praises, his body hovering over yours again.

You whine up at him, pulling him into a shy kiss that he returns desperately. You can taste yourself on his tongue and you whimper. As he shares your taste with you, his hands finally get rid of the rest of your dress. He pulls away once it’s off, resting his forehead against yours as his hands undo his belt buckle.

“You’re gorgeous, y’know that? A fucking vision. And you’re all mine.”

Your body arches into him at his words, hands exploring the expanse of his clothed chest as he gets his pants off. His chest leaves your hands as he sits up again, rapidly undoing the buttons of his button-up and hurriedly taking it off. Both of you are naked, and his eyes get the chance to explore you as you explore him. He’s built in muscle, a little chub at his stomach that has you leaking onto his sheets. His cock hangs heavy in between his legs, unable to hold up its own weight. It makes your mouth water and you almost beg him to put it in your mouth.

You’re distracted from your filthy fantasy when Miguel’s finger lands at the end of your throat and in between your collarbones. He slides it down, goosebumps mapping where he touched. He brings his finger down the valley between your breasts, dragging it to your stomach, and ending its journey at your clit where he taps on it gently. The whole time he holds his breath as if breathing would disturb the perfection in front of him. It makes your body sing, arching into his touch with a small noise that he soaks up.

“Fucking perfect,” he whispers into the darkness of the room, leaning back over you.

You can fill his tip rubbing between your thighs, smearing his precum on your skin. You spread your legs wider for him, and you gasp when he grabs them and pushes them up to your chest and over his shoulders. He kisses the side of your knee, eyes peering down at your face as he guides his tip to your entrance. He rubs it up and down slowly, collecting your dripping arousal and nudging at your clit until your body is jolting in sensitivity. When he brings it back to your weeping hole, it slides in with little resistance.

You moan needily as it enters you, and you clench around his tip. It makes Miguel’s mouth drop with a groan, trying to push past your tightness, “You’re so tight, loosen up for me baby.”

You try to relax your walls, but every time he slides further in, your walls clench in pleasure. It makes him chuckle, and he toys with your clit to help your efforts. It works well, and he slides in easily as he rolls your bud in circles.

“Fuckkk, that’s it baby. Taking this cock so well.”

You whine, back arching as he bottoms out. His balls are flush against your skin, and you squirm on his cock as he begins to slide out. You gasp out when he thrusts back in, hitting against your cervix. Your hands reach above you to bury into the plush pillows, mewling as he starts building up a pace. You try to turn your head away, closing your eyes tight as you moan, but Miguel reaches down so you face him and force eye contact. Your eyes are completely dazed from pleasure, lust threatening to spill through your tears. Miguel groans at the sight, his hips beginning to thrust into you faster. Your gummy walls drag against his length, fluttering every now and then as he works you towards another orgasm. It makes his cock twitch inside of you, and he hides his face in your neck and leaves bruising marks. The way he presses into you makes him hit deeper, hitting that spot inside of you that makes you impossibly close to climax. Your hands leave the pillows to rake down Miguel’s back with hiccuped mewls of his name as you feel your stomach burn.

“I know, baby,” Miguel grunts, teeth clenched as his hips start stuttering. “I know, I’m right there too. Let go, I got you.”

With his reassurance and the persuasion of a few more thrusts, your body tenses. Your mouth falls open in a silent scream, body arching and twitching as you come. Feeling your walls clench so tightly around him makes Miguel explode soon after, moaning out your name. He works both of you through your orgasms with shallow thrusts that slowly dwindle to a halt. He breathes heavily into your neck, groaning as he slowly pulls out of you with a wet squelch. His face hovers over yours, showering you in chaste kisses that have you letting out breathy giggles.

Once Miguel has caught his breath he gets up, carrying you as he stands off the bed and walking towards the bathroom. He places you down on the sink’s large counter top, your body shocked by the cold marble. He parts from you with a slow kiss to your lips, turning to prepare a bath for you. When the tub fills with steamy water, he picks you up again, stepping in and sitting down with you between his legs. You sigh as the water soothes your aching body. Miguel’s hands begin to massage your body, whispering small praises into your skin and leaving kisses along your neck and shoulders. The coziness of the atmosphere makes you sleepy and you try to stifle a yawn.

Miguel smiles against your skin as he hears it, and he begins to run his fingers through your hair, “Go to sleep, I’ll take care of you.”

And just like that you’re asleep.

--------------------------------------------------

The next morning, you’re woken up with kisses along your naked shoulder. You smile before you open your eyes, turning around to meet Miguel’s face. He hums when you turn to him, pulling you against him more and kissing your cheek. You chuckle at the affection, kissing the crown of his head as you rake your hands through his hair.

“Morning, hermosa.” He mumbles to you, eyes shining at your presence.

“Good morning, handsome. Want some coffee?” You reply, smiling wider when Miguel nods.

You get out of bed, grabbing Miguel’s button up from last night off the floor. You button it up just enough to cover everything, and you hear Miguel groan from the sight from his place on the bed. You giggle, promising to be quick as you leave his room. When you go downstairs, the place is still trashed from the party. You roll your eyes at the mess, feeling bad for the cleaners and already knowing you’re going to offer them help. Luckily, the kitchen is still functional and you begin to brew Miguel’s coffee. You hear footsteps approaching as you fill a mug, turning to see Gabe.

He’s rubbing his eyes when he enters, the tell-tale expression of a hangover on his face. He pauses when he sees you, squinting as the sunlight pours from the kitchen window.

“What are you still doing here?” He asks gruffly, eyes falling to the mug of coffee in your hands. You don’t like coffee, he only knows because you complained about it all the time when he got you one.

You roll your eyes at his tone, setting the spoon down on the sink. You grab the mug and begin walking over to Gabe. For a moment, he thinks the coffee is for him and he begins to reach out for it. But he pauses as your hand cups his cheek mockingly and you coo at him like he's simply a toddler with an attitude.

“Now, now, Gabe. That isn't how you should treat your step-mom, is it?”

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stardustloserdoll · 5 months

Note

hii can you do friends to lovers with johnnie x youtuber!reader? and the reader is like friends with jake and thats how they met? love your work btw <3

tyyy 🩷

you know i’ll keep you in my locket

“y/n you made it! come, i want you to meet someone!” jake quickly grabbed my hand, dragging me through the crowd pulling me in many directions. until he stopped in his tracks, “ah there he is.” jake spoke turning back giving me a smile. “johnnieee.” jake sang pulling me next to him with a big smile on his face.

“what.” the guy johnnie said looking up from his drink to look at jake. “this is y/n! remember i told you all about them?” johnnie nodded his head sending a smile towards me “yeah you yapped a bunch about them.” johnnie replied, making me laugh. “you know me, the yap king. anyways, y/n! this is johnnie.”

i smiled waving at johnnie “hey, nice to meet you. jakes also told me a lot about you. i like your shirt by the way.” johnnies eyes lit up “you like this band?” i nodded my head “i love them! i have all of their cds and posters all over my room.” i laughed putting my hands in my pockets. jake watching us with a big smile on his face.

“oh yeah johnnie! y/n is also a youtuber! i think you guys should do a collab together. it should be fun.” jake said wrapping his arms around our shoulders. “im down.” i smiled looking over to johnnie. “yeah me too.”

ever since that day, johnnie and i have been inseparable. every time i saw him, the bigger my crush on him got. i always got nervous and stuttered around him, probably making it obvious i liked him. i don’t know if i’ll ever tell him how i feel..

"hi everyone, today i have a special guest joining me…johnnie!" i smiled pulling him in frame "hi."

"johnnies going to attempt to do my makeup. i glanced at johnnie sending him a reassuring smile."i know he'll do great."

johnnie started applying the foundation onto my face, patting it down softly. "how about we tell them how we met." i said moving some hair out of my face.

"ooh you're right!" johnnie smiled moving onto the eyeshadow and mascara, "alright so we met at a party, and jake introduced us to each other. jake told me a lot about y/n, but i never got to meet y/n, but i'm glad i finally did."

"aww, johnnie." johnnie smiled tapping my knee signaling he was done. “how’s it looking.” i smiled. "it looks. pretty good actually. i made a mess though." he laughed cleaning where the mascara smudged. "i bet it looks great. now, the hardest part. the eyeliner." i said lifting it up to him. "oh god, if you look like a clown by the end of this im so sorry." johnnie held my face gently as he began applying the eyeliner.

"anyways,” johnnie said resuming “back to the story. it was an instant connection, we liked a lot of the same things, especially our humor. since then, we’ve literally been hang out like..everyday. i'd have to say my favorite person ever is y/n, sorry jake."

"you heard him jake. IM his favorite." i smiled sticking my tongue out. "okay, i think i did pretty good." johnnie said leaning back making sure the wings were sharp. "im really excited to see the finishing product." i said clapping my hands. johnnie set the eyeliner down and told me to open my eyes. "guys look at the matching necklaces johnnie and i got."

"we have pictures of each other in them." johnnie smiled opening the heart locket. "he looks so cute in this picture." i laughed raising it up to the camera. "y/n looks so pretty here." johnnie smiled looking into my eyes, glancing down at my lips.

“why are you looking at me like that.” i laughed pinching his cheek. “what do you mean!” johnnie yelled lifting his arms up. “you’re looking at me like you wanna kiss me.” johnnie turned away, mumbling something under his breath. “what was that johnnie?” he shook his head mumbling a ‘nothing.’ “wait i forgot the lipstick.” johnnie reached over and grabbed the lipstick, carefully applying it.

"okay y/n, are you ready to see your final look." i nodded my head and raised the mirror. “johnnie.” i gasped. “I TOLD YOU IT WAS BAD!” i shook my head. “NO ITS SO GOOD! you have a magic hand.” i smiled setting down the mirror. johnnie smirked at my comment making me hit his shoulder softly.

“okay guys, that’s the end of the video. thank you so much for watching! make sure to like and subscribe, andddd if you want more of johnnie i will have his channel linked down below. say bye johnnie!” i wrapped my arm around his shoulder waving. “baaaiii!”

“i had so much fun johnnie.” i grinned setting my hands on my lap. “me too, i always have fun with you y/n.” johnnie smiled as he played with the necklace. “uh y/n. can i ask you something.” i nodded my head “yeah of course.”

“well,” johnnie hesitated “um i’ve really enjoyed spending time with you lately, and we’ve gotten really close. the more i spend time with you, the more i start to fall even more in love with you.” i blushed placing my hands on top of his. “i feel the same way. ever since i met you i instantly fell for you. i love everything about you johnnie.”

johnnies eyes widened at that, a faint blush spreading on his pale cheeks. “well, what do you say we make it official?” i asked holding his hand. “id love to.”

#johnnie guilbert x reader #johnnie guilbert fluff

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kaicubus · 1 year

Text

Distraction P2 | Xavier T.

warnings ✩° : mutual pining, fluff confession, slight VERY SLIGHT angst bc i was listening to enchanted by taylor swift at one point in this, closure, both reader and xavier are 17-18 years old.

pairing ✩° : xavier thorpe x fem!reader

premise ✩° : demanding answers from your rival who stole a kiss from you unexpectedly at the poe cup to distract you, you confront him, this time ready to catch HIM off guard.

word count ✩° : 3.1k

authors note ✩° : a performance was demanded of me. and now i have delivered. ENCOREEEEEEEEEE!!! anyways. OMG I HAD SO MUCH FUN WRITING THIS EEHEHHEHE GIGGLING KICKING MY FEET...hope you enjoy...also expect more fics of xavier bc i love this show and i love him.

From the time you lost horribly due to a certain distraction to the time now, your mind has been scrambled to the point of irrevocable recovery. Still, you didn’t say anything to your friends or your teammates, especially about your plans for tonight.

The feeling of that kiss had been lingering for hours on your lips, how could he catch you off guard like that? You wanted to be angry, you wanted to throw all the books off of your desk and wreck everything around you, but you physically can’t. It’s almost as if the feeling of Xavier’s hands trailing down your waist were keeping you from it all.

You sit up in a panic and shake your head, “Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

“Y/n it’s kinda hard to ignore the fact you lost that completion for us but it’s even harder to pretend like somethings not on your mind. As your friend, we need to talk.

“There’s nothing we need to talk about.”

She sits down next to you on your bed and leans back, hugging her knee to give her stability, “So what I heard was that only you and Xavier made it to shore. Could it be something with him?”

Before she can ask more agonizing questions, you sit up and throw the doors of your closet open. “Woah. Calm down.” F/n says softly, “Look if you don’t want to talk about it we don’t have to. I just want to know if—“

“The reason I didn’t get back in time.” You ignore her, huffing roughly, “I was distracted. That’s all that needs to be said.”

“A bit of both, F/n. A bit of both.” With that, you get dressed into a more comfortable outfit, adjusting your hair and doing other rituals to finalize your outing. It should be fun.

“Y/n.” Xavier raises his brows, “Didn’t think you’d actually come. Considering you hate me and all.” He takes a moment to take in all of you. Your outfit, your hair, your makeup, he can’t help but smile to himself. After all, you look cute, so who is he not to appreciate that?

“Afternoon, Xavier.” Your eyebrows lift on instinct, expressing your disapproval of your presence in front of him already. He has his arm propped up against the frame of his door and the way he leans onto it so casually makes something inside of you self implode. Complete with a parted grin, Xavier locks eyes with you and waits for your response.

“I-I don’t hate you.” Keeping composure wasn’t an option. Looking at him in the eyes even once would remind you of that kiss. In fact, looking at him in general was a guaranteed flashback. “At least right now. I have questions.”

“I think I have answers.” He shrugs, “Though I think that kiss kind of cleared everything up—“

You cut him off with a rough sigh, “Yeah. It’s about that.”

“Ok, so…You going to come in? Or are we going to talk right here?” He glances up and looks around at all the passing students. With a small nod, you find yourself entering his dorm room. Hung drawings and strung along polarioids line the walls, giving the overall atmosphere of the room an artsy aesthetic. It’s not as clean as yours, and he lives alone ever since Rowan was expelled from Nevermore, but it’s still nice.

“Sorry about the mess,” Xavier’s voice tugs you back into reality, “I forgot to clean up. The Amontillado’s and I went out for dinner and you know I had a killer steak, almost lost track of time before I realized that I had a possible date with Y/n L/n. I of course didn't want to miss that.” Even though the words coming out of his mouth are cocky and prideful, he looks at you like all of what he’s saying is exaggerated and sarcastic. He’s good at confusing you.

Still, his subtle gloat makes you roll your eyes, “Was that necessary? The steak? The celebrating?”

“Oh absolutely.” He dips his head down and grins, “Let’s talk on my bed.”

“Sure.”

The two of you sit down on the edge of his bed, and now it becomes increasingly obvious that you're the only nervous one between the two of you. Xavier doesn't shy away from the fact either, instead he steals multiple glances at your fidgety hands and blushed cheeks and grins mischievously.

“Do you remember the kiss? How it even happened?” You start, looking him directly in the eyes.

He raises a brow and continues his grin, “Uh, yeah. Other than the fact it was a few hours ago, I don't see why I’d forget it?”

“You didn't answer me from before. I know that now you told me all of that to distract me from the race, but why were you so adamant on telling me that you like me? You could've kissed me and did that, since it was a fool proof plan.”

“Fool proof?” Xavier raises his hand and curls it to his lips, “Me kissing you, was fool proof? For a distraction? Honestly, if you admit it was, I’m not complaining. But I didn't know you could tell me that if I ever tried kissing you before, you'd accept it.”

Usually, you’d be annoyed. Your face would burn with aggression and you’d feel violent remarks bubble in your throat, but now you can’t even think of anything mean to say. Just another question.

“Did you kiss me just to kiss me? Or was it all just a plan?”

Hearing the question makes Xavier stop his teasing. Lip tucked between his teeth to keep quiet, he looks at you, half wondering if what you just said was serious or not and the other half choosing his next words extremely carefully. Though it doesn’t help the throbbing in his chest seeing the way your head is tilted just enough so that you're looking up at him through your lashes, too nervous to hold eye contact for so long.

A brief silence washes over you both before Xavier rubs the back of his neck, pensive in thought. His feeble attempt at making himself seem calm and collected only makes him shift in his position next to you, accidentally brushing his hip against yours.

“No,” Xavier says, his voice just above a whisper, “I meant everything I said. I never wanted to be better than you, I just wanted to talk to you. I like you a lot, Y/n. I never lied about that.”

You show the side of your face and let your shoulders fall, “I never said you lied about it. There’s nothing you can lie about in a kiss like that. You deceived me, not lied.”

He rolls his lips into his mouth and rubs his hand onto his thigh, “You know, it’s not really deception if I meant it all. I was dressed as a jester you know, secretly funny despite being advertised as a joke.”

His laughter that follows after makes your heart tremble. Looking back at him, your smile falls back into nervousness, “I don’t…I don’t not like you.” You stare at his lips, scared to meet his gaze that’s very clearly fixated on you, “It’s just. I don’t like how you make me feel.”

“How exactly do I make you feel, Y/n?” His eyes travel down, “...I know I make you mad.”

“I’m mad because of the way you make me feel, Thorpe. You walk around like you’re some enigmatic being with all the substance and deep personality in the world. You’re always in thought. Maybe that’s why you do better than me.” You sigh, “I can’t focus right. Probably...probably because I’m always thinking about you.”

Even though for once you’re not yelling at him, Xavier listens to you with genuine interest. You didn’t even know that was possible, frankly, neither did he.

You turn your head up to meet his gaze when you realize he hasn’t said anything all this time. “Xavier?” You say softly, “Why did you kiss me?”

He sways back, draping his hand over yours, “You looked like you needed to be kissed. Maybe that’s why. But it seems like no matter what answer I’ll give you, you’re not going to be happy,” he says, pressing his thumb softly into your knuckles, “And all I want is for you to be happy. At least with me.”

This time, you don’t shy away from his touch. There’s not an ounce of nervousness. In place of it, your body acts on its own and you bend more towards him.

“Can I ask a question this time?” Xavier speaks slow and cohesively, “If that’s ok?”

You’re not sure why, but his question intrigued you. What did he have to ask? What more was he confused about? You stop yourself when you realize that these may be questions running through Xavier’s head when he looks at you. When he looks at you, huh, the look on his face makes your ears heat up and your heart skip two beats at once. Of course, scientifically that impossible, but Xavier makes facts feel wrong in your mind. Just like how it was a fact you hated him. Or it was a fact he wanted to be better than you for the sole purpose of humiliating you. Just as those were shot down and proven to be wrong, so have your previous feelings, now shedding new light onto the hidden ones you've kept locked away.

You could feel his smug face staring down at you, as you wait silently for the question.

“How exactly do you feel about me?” The question falls from his lips, the same lips that’d kissed you speechless earlier today, “Because when I look at you, I can feel you hate me, but you said that’s wrong. I don’t know what’s right and wrong when I’m with you. Usually I’d want this to end but, I just want to know, Y/n.”

How you feel? About him? Your eyes trip into his inescapable stare and suddenly you feel your throat start to close. Of course, you didn't want to leave him short or even worse, assuming your feelings towards him because anything that isn't what you say is wrong and you need to communicate that with him but you just can’t. It’s so easy just to swallow your pride and talk, but every second of silence jabs the knife of uncertainty deeper and deeper.

But you have to say something.

“Xavier—”

“Y/n—” Suddenly, he interrupts. Not intentionally, but because you were silent for so long.

Maybe you and him aren't so different after all.

Xavier’s quick to apologize, but you're faster. “Sorry, go ahead.” The heat on your face only grows hotter so you're forced to pull the collar of your shirt away from your skin.

“No, it’s ok, I was just going to say something stupid.” He shakes his head, causing his long hair to sweep along his perfectly cut jaw, “Go on.”

You roll your shoulders back and inhale sharply, “We both know I don’t like being second best—”

“Obviously.”

You glare at Xavier.

“Right, sorry.”

“And we both know that that obviously has been happening—”

“Not intentionally.”

“XAVIER.” Your rival laughs at your temper, only for you to grind your teeth together in frustration, “I’m trying to tell you how I feel about you—like you ASKED—but you keep interrupting me! PLEASE! Be quiet!”

He chuckles a bit before nodding, “Yes ma’am.”

You decide to ignore that. For now at least. Instead, your nervousness returns now that the uncomfortable silence has returned, but at least you have the spotlight now. An ache in your chest spirals into your stomach as the thought of ‘now or never’ finally settled in. If telling Xavier how you really felt all this time would mean relief from all the negativity bottled up inside you, self loathing tendencies and being the human embodiment of a locked box with no key, you were willing to take the risk of him making any comments towards you.

Reaching out, you take your finger and place it on top of his as a sort of reassurance that everything will be ok if you know this moment is real. He glances at your small gesture, his lips cracking into an unnoticed smirk, and curls his slender finger under yours, hugging it almost.

"I guess there’s no better way to say that...I return your feelings. It’s ironic too because, for all the time we spend together, even if it’s not quality time or anything, I like it. I like it a lot. You actually make what I do fun, I realize that now.” The words become even easier to say, “No matter how much I push you away, it makes you ten times stronger. And I don't think I want to let that go. What I’m trying to get at is I like having you around. I don’t know if it’s your presence, or just you in general, but I don’t want to let go of it any time soon.” It takes another moment before you finally say, “I like you back, Xavier.”

Silence, again. That was...something.

Almost as if the quietness wasn't deafening enough, a small chuckle breaks it and somehow makes the whole situation all the more unbearable.

“What?” Your voice is exasperated, “Why are you laughing?”

“I’m not laughing at you,” He smiles and cuts his hair down the middle, allowing it to fall from each side loosely, “You know you do this thing where when you're talking, you kinda,” he swerves his wrist in a circle and motions in front of his face, “I don't know how to explain it, but it’s really cute.”

His smugness is infectious. Like a virus, it travels into your system and makes you avert your eyes to wherever he isn't looking to distract yourself from the overwhelming palpitations your heart is running. “Hey,” his deep voice speaks, somehow closer to you now, “Is there maybe something else you want to tell me?” Xavier mutters.

“Actually, yeah.” You nod, enveloping your other hand over your ear and looking to the other side of him for a brief moment, “I want you to give me another answer.”

“To what question?”

“My feelings.” You whisper comfortably, “Not like last time. Not as a distraction. As a real thing.”

“Are you sure?” Xavier whispers too kneading his hand into yours, “Like, you want me to kiss you again?”

You feel like the breath is knocked from your lungs when you nod your head, “Please.”

He hesitates a little before bringing his cold palm directly to your collarbone, using his thumb to lead his movements to where he wants it to be. The gentleness of his touch makes you even weaker than before. Just barely, the tip of his thumb stretches the corner of your lip, bouncing it back into place when he feels like he’s satisfied. Little touches like that make your head reel. You don't even care that you want to ask how he knows all the right places to touch you, you just close your eyes and let him. Before you know it, that crashing sensation returns. Fuck, have you missed it.

Very quickly, Xavier feels a jolt hit your body as it tenses against his grasp, but as quick as it came, it leaves and you give in. An arm wraps around you, catching your waist and pulling you closer to him, his unoccupied hand rubbing slow and small circles on your back smoothly while he takes the bottom of your lip and nods deeper into your mouth. He’s in no hurry to do anything more, but you can tell he wants to stay here with you for hours. It’s all easily told with his not so secret grabbing and pulling that in this moment, you're all he wants.

There’s something surprisingly methodical, coming from him, in the way he takes in your lip, sucking gently on the pliant skin, then scrunching your hair in between the spaces of his fingers. There’s one spot his touch lingers on though, the nape of your neck. The spot, with an ache for much needed attention, makes you squirm into him when he runs his thumb over it accidentally—almost like a sweet spot of yours Xavier was sure to abuse in the future.

You don't notice it at first, but eventually you realize that through the total mind fuzziness of when he kisses you, you've both ended up further up than you were when you first started on his bed. The way time passes doesn't seem real, kissing him feels like nothing else matters in the world. In fact, being around him, in his dorm room, and just looking at him was all it took for you to forget about everything.

When he eventually pulls back, his body lifting away from you—a second of fleeting panic shoots through your chest at the sudden space between you both. By the solemn expression on his face, eyes hooded with pure relaxation and satisfaction, he can tell you enjoyed the kiss a little more than you should've.

“So, does this mean that I can take you out on a proper date now?” He mutters against your lips, “Because I’ve been having these dreams of taking you to this place out in town. You know,” Xavier kisses his teeth, “Gotta listen to the dreams, Y/n.”

His smugness is now just laughable, so you give in and throw your head back chuckling, “Let’s listen to them then. I’m free tomorrow?”

“So am I.” He leans back in and gives you another soft, quick kiss but instead of pulling away this time, he remains close to your face, his fingers interlocked with yours, “I’m really glad we figured this out, Y/n.”

“Me too.” Your chest flutters.

No one told you how to feel after your first kiss with your sworn academic rival. There were no rules to base your feelings on and there was certainly no expectations to meet up to. But you weren't confused anymore, that was the more important issue. Your head is clear as it’s ever been. Thanks to him, Xavier made that all possible.

#xavier thorpe #wednesday netflix #wednesday xavier #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe x y/n #xavier thorpe fic #xavier thorpe imagine #xavier thorpe fanfiction #wednesday #xavier thorpe fanfic #wednesday fanfic #wednesday fic #wednesday addams #kaicubus

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ghouljams · 8 months

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Medievall au Konig…

King of a neighboring kingdom, who is declaring war. The king and queen, parents of Ghost’s princess, offer her hand in marriage as a peace offering. inviting him over to shortly court/get to know the princess, but falls in love with her lady in waiting? (or any type of servant/help type worker)

God this is dangerously close to my cursed king König from my novel and I am for REAL holding myself back here. This isn't going to be König's new medieval au, but I wanna see Ghost sweat and I love causing the princess pain. So I’m using my cursed König here, because I love him, and also because he’s just a little fucked up, and also also because he is just... incapable of loving the princess lmao

You hate this.

Your maids have spent all day preparing you to meet a man that could become your husband. A king. You pout as they scrub you with perfumed soaps, rubbing scented oils into your skin and hair until every nook and crevice if you is soft and sweet. It's truly the most extensive bath you've ever had, and all you can think of is how badly you don't want it to end. The same with your makeup and your hair, all the primping and poking takes far longer than you would've liked, and yet far shorter than you need. It's miserable, and your maids are too chatty, too excited. They don't leave you alone long enough to cry.

Your parents, well your mother, have planned a rather elaborate dinner to introduce you and the neighboring King. You desperately want to kick and scream, throw things and make a mess until someone takes notice of your misery and puts a stop to it. Your maids tighten the strings of your dress, fix your necklace until it sits just right on your chest, spritz you with perfume, and tip your tiara until it catches the light with the sparkle of tears in your eyes.

"You look beautiful m'lady," your lady in waiting smiles, squeezing your shoulders tight in an approximation of a hug. It's not a comfort. You feel like a horse being trussed up for the market. You say nothing, you think she gets the idea. She's always been a good friend to you. "Maybe he'll be terribly rude and ugly, and the King will kick him out before the meal is over," she suggests.

"One can only hope," you mumble.

Ghost isn’t waiting for you outside your quarters door. Your eyes dart around the hallway, past the knight that offers you an introduction. He should be here, why isn’t he here? He wouldn’t leave you if something important didn’t come up, something must have happened. You turn to your maid, confusion stealing away your anxiety for the moment.

“Where’s Ghost?” You ask her. You hardly have a spare moment to feel sorry you’ve ignored this poor knight who you’re sure is his stand-in.

“Orders of the King,” The knight tells you, “I’ll be your guard from now on.”

Your heart falls. They’re really serious about this. You wonder if your mother put up a fight, if she was the one to suggest it. It feels like a betrayal of the highest order to look at this knight and tell him.

“I’ll be in your care.”

When all you want to do is throw a royal fit and tell him to get Ghost or get out. You suppose you could. You could go back into your room and send word you won’t be attending anything. Be a true royal brat. You shudder to think what would become of you if you did. Without Ghost to protect you, there’s no telling how quickly you’d be dragged from your quarters. Placed in front of your royal guest kicking and screaming, what a first impression that would be.

It feels like a funeral procession walking down the hall towards the formal dining room. Your feet hardly want to carry you, but you can’t run with an unfamiliar knight at your heel. For all you know he’d chase you down under your parents orders. That was the one thing you never had to worry about with Ghost, perhaps you took it for granted how loyal he was to you and only you.

You stop in front of the heavy wood doors. You don’t even get a moment to collect yourself, barely get a squeeze of your hand from your lady-in-waiting before the guards on either side open them. Immediately your worry over Ghost is replaced by anxiety for yourself.

The doors open, the guests at the table stand, and you look up, up, up, at the man you assume is your neighbor King. The height of him, the sheer mass of musculature and masculinity frighten you. You thought Ghost was tall, does this fucker come from a land of giants? The King tips his head to you, and you dip into a low curtsy. As well trained as ever.

"König," your father smiles, a ringing rising in your ears as König stares you down, "this is our daughter, Princess-" You wish you could say he at least seems interested in you. He doesn't. His eyes look bored at best and disdainful at worst. You wish you could say more but the lower half of his face is masked. You'd wonder what that was about, if you weren't so terrified that this man was going to take you away, he doesn't even seem to want you.

The man, König, has an air of violence to him, madness almost. An air you find infecting your mind even as you walk to your seat. The proximity to him doesn’t help the feeling that if any man would be the hand in your death it would be him. You can hardly imagine what a marriage to him would entail. How cruel could he be, when you couldn’t even sense a spark of warmth from him.

You knight pulls a chair out for you, and you sit, moving on pure instinct. König's eyes slide off of you to touch your maid as she leans to speak to you. You barely hear her over the ringing in your ears, your breath coming short as you stare at your place setting. Did you leave your heart in your room? It feels like you must have, you hardly think it's beating.

You feel like every muscle in your body is pulled taught, tightening to keep your skeleton from shaking. You can’t think against the rising wave of dread that settles over your mind. Your vision is so fuzzy, and the crown on your head is impossibly heavy. The weight of awful responsibility. An animal raised for slaughter, that’s all you are, all you’ll ever amount to. Another bargaining chip in your parent’s pocket to be thrown on the table in front of any unwed king they find important enough.

This is worse than an interview with a nobel. There’s no need for a formal meeting between you and a king. If he likes the look of you he can take you. There’s nothing more that needs to happen to make you his. A wedding is a formality. You’re sure that giant of a man has never heard ‘no’ in his life, and even if he had you’re sure that no didn’t last long. Where is your gentle knight? Why do you have to be doomed to a nightmare when so many other girls get to be loved?

Someone touches you. No one is supposed to touch you. You jerk away, the world snapping back into focus with a rush of sound and color. You maid crouches next to you, your hand between hers, concern clear in the furrow of her brow. You look around the table, the startled expression of your parents, König's wide eyes. Your lady in waiting swipes her handkerchief over your wet cheeks silently. Are you crying?

"I'm sorry," you smile at the other people seated at the table, "I'm just- just so excited at the prospect of marriage I suppose." Your lady- your friend fixes König with a sour expression, still dabbing at your makeup. You glance at your mother to try and pick up the conversation, maybe salvage this torture. She isn’t looking at you, her eyes set on König. Her expression is placating, her smile as warm as a crocodile’s. Political, just like you are supposed to be.

The air in this room is stifling. Your parents love you, but they care about you only as far as you’re useful to them. Despite your mother’s previous words, a king is too good a deal to pass up. Just like a princess throwing a tantrum in the middle of the night is too disgraceful to mention in the morning.

“She’s not usually like this,” your mother tells König, her voice sweet, “she must be nervous in the face of a man so…” König raises a brow, despite the full plate of food in front of him, he has yet to remove his mask, “handsome.”

You shove off your maid’s fussing, your skin crawling to be touched by anyone. You’re going to be sick. You hardly mutter an ‘excuse me’ before you’re running from the room.

#cod x reader #x reader #könig cod #könig x reader #könig call of duty #könig fanfiction #könig #knight!ghost #medieval au #even tho he isn't in this lol #it is Ghost's story #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #könig mw2 #konig cod

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localemofreak · 1 month

Text

Honeymoon In Vegas.

(Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader)

(A/n: there’s no music to this, just a little blurb I thought of because- idk, it sounded rad and dumb and sexy in my head.. anywayyyysss- enjoy. Also I’m sorry if it’s super short- I wasn’t really trying to think of anything for this- 😭)

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Story: it’s just a little- I mean very tiny dorky blurb of a part of your little honeymoon with Eddie in the city of Viva Las Vegas, Nevada.

‼️WARNINGS‼️: use of y/n, heavy mention of smut, sexual references, some fluff, reader and Eddie are in their honeymoon phase, mentions of nudity, Eddie acting like a horny dork, it’s giving black cat reader and golden retriever Eddie, not that much going on since I’m lazy but thought of this, etc. (if I forgot something, please tell me!!)

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It had been about three days since you and Eddie decided to officially tie the knot in Vegas while on a little break during his tour..

And it had also been about three days of you and him being trapped in the fancy hotel suite- that was now completely trashed, that you had been spending your little honeymoon weekend in.

All you two have been doing for the past three days has just been having sex, not even really taking a break to try and go out and do things.

You have been just completely cooped up with Eddie- who’s little horny lovemaking machine didn’t seem to be breaking down anytime soon.

It’s not like you had a true problem against him wanting to fuck nonstop- it’s not like he was bad at all, in fact he was quite the opposite.

It’s just after a few days of nonstop love making, you needed a moment to just take a break- do something else besides lay in that bed with your legs feeling completely numb.

Currently, you had decided to get up from the bed where Eddie was laying down next to you slightly sprawled out, his breathing heavy and his chest heaving up and down after round- whatever you guys were on, you honestly stop keeping track at this point.

You were starting to feel hungry, so you decided to get up finally to grab some breakfast.

Your legs honestly just felt like complete jelly at that moment, and you looked like a complete mess- runny makeup, hair everywhere, hickies that littered the skin of your neck.

You honestly looked completely spent- and at that moment, you felt like it to be honest.

As Eddie laid there collecting himself, you had decided to slowly and carefully try to bring yourself to stand up.

Your legs wobbled a little bit but you managed to keep yourself from falling- and the room spun a little as you tried to get the blood to rush through your legs a little since it had been a second since you actually stood up.

As you glanced around, you noticed how trashed the bedroom of the suite was.

There was empty bottles of alcohol and condom wrappers everywhere- also don’t forget the clothes and just overall trash scattered all over.

You could hear Eddie mumbling a little bit as he laid on the messy looking mattress- which you decided to ignore as you grabbed a robe to wrap around your naked body.

As soon as you got yourself somewhat covered, you decided to slowly shuffle out of the little room and into the living room of the suite- that was also connected to the kitchen.

As you slowly shuffled your way into the living room- you noticed how even more trashy it looked.

It was a complete mess- just beer bottles, wine bottles, vodka bottles, all empty and scattered around the place.

Things were thrown around, couch cushions were on the ground and there was trash everywhere.

You knew before you two had left you both would have a big job on picking this shit up so that you wouldn’t get in trouble for basically destroying the room.

After standing there for a moment, assessing the damage with what your tired eyes could see- you soon shuffled your way over to the kitchen to sit down.

A tired sigh escaped from your lips as you sat down, your hands moving to run over your face as you leaned against your elbows on the table- just trying to get yourself all together.

After sitting there for a moment, just trying to collect your thoughts and relax- you soon heard the sound of feet shuffling against the floor mixed with a tired groan.

Eddie had gotten up obviously, seeing you had gotten up- that automatically meant he had to follow you.

You picked your head up from your hands as you glanced over with tired eyes, seeing Eddie wrapped in nothing but a robe.

His hair was messy and slightly all over the place, and his bangs were slightly stuck to his forehead as he scratched at his head while a yawn escaped from his mouth.

“I see you’re up-” you mumbled out, causing Eddie to nod his head and give a little tired but cheeky smirk while he made his way over to you.

“How’s my sexy little wifeee~” he hummed out with a slight chuckle, his body leaning forward to press his head into the crook of your neck.

As you felt his lips kissing at your neck, you just let out a tired sigh and shook your head, your hands pushing at his half covered tattooed chest since he didn’t really tie the robe around his body fully- it kind of just hung to his body.

“Eddie- please, let’s just take a break for a moment.. I want breakfast-” you got out while Eddie pulled his head out of the crook of your neck, a slight chuckle falling from his lips as he just hummed in response.

“Alright, alright- fine, what do you want?” He said, his hands moving to fix the robe he was wearing a little bit but it still wasn’t covering much.

“I just want food- I don’t care what it is..” you muttered out, obviously just hungry as you gave him a little pout- which he couldn’t help but find adorable.

“Hm, I think sausage sounds nice don’t yah sweetie?” He hummed out, the smirk on his face getting wider as he just decided to be an ass and place his semi hard dick down on the table in front of you.

You could hear the small snicker fall from his lips which caused you to roll your eyes as you tried your best to hide the grin trying to appear on your face.

“Eddie- come onnn..” you whined out, which caused him to quickly put his dick back into his robe as he put his hands up in surrender.

“Okay, okay- fine, seriously- nowwww what to do you want??” He questioned, this time actually being genuine as he crossed his arms lightly over his chest while leaning back against the counter of the kitchen.

You just sat there for a moment, your eyes glancing to look up at him as he stood there.

You couldn’t help but admire him- even though he looked like a mess right now, he still looked absolutely beautiful.

“…sausage actually does sound nice- the actual thing though..” you mumbled out, which caused Eddie to crack a dumb little smirk.

“Whatever you want my love~” he hummed out while standing up from leaning back against the counter, which caused you to crack a wide grin up at him as he placed a kiss on the top of your head.

“I love you Eddie-” you said, looking up at him as he smirked down at you before making his way towards the stove to make you breakfast.

“I love you more y/n, my beautiful wife..” he hummed out while your eyes stayed on him- the wide grin on your face as you just admired him.

—————————————

(A/n: I’m so sorry if this is short- I just felt like making the tiniest little shit blurb and I made it- also sorry if it’s kinda bad, I’m just very lazy and kinda out of it, but I also hope you liked it 😭)

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ashdreams2023 · 3 months

Note

hello dear! I don't know if you are accepting requests, but I would like to request a five hargreeves x fem!reader

where the reader is a psychic, and she works in the more "chic" part of the commission and she is interested in Five because of some visions she has of him and nananananana

Anyway, I hope you understood :))

a big kiss from Brazil MWAH!

I reached Brazil?! Y’all I’m worldwide now 😩💕

Five hargreeves x fem reader

Watching

There’s many characters in the commission to say the least, everyone got their story and how they got there, much how you ended up there.

But you weren’t that special, you don’t think so at least, not with your coworker having the head of a cow and speaking fluent Spanish and French.

You didn’t usually interact with other employees there that weren’t in your department, it wasn’t because you thought yourself better than them but everyone other than you moved too fast, worried at lot, but you suppose the calmness comes from knowing what your future is and how very little it takes to change your fate.

It was also noted that your department tended to stay to focus on appearances and self expression, you’ll be mostly found in different outfits and fun makeup, it clashed with the usual uniform but it was fine because in your case, it mattered what you said rather than what you looked.

In your years there you’ve predicted deaths, wars, fallouts and whatever you can think about.

It was your job anyways and no one knew your face to point fingers at who is telling on their little failed schemes.

Although….there has been a change of atmosphere since you began seeing some interesting visions about a certain agent.

Five Hargreaves.

An oldie he was, yet surprisingly this was the first time you’ve seen him do something so….unexpected.

End of the world? His family? A new threat from within? Interesting.

You find yourself watching him, from your department, from the windows, he always walked with a purpose and heading somewhere.

Your coworker likes to tease you about this…sudden interest of yours calling him a call for help and that you need to get laid or something along those lines.

"There’s a thin line between sliver box and a grumpy git sweetie"

"Oh come on, aren’t you even a little curious? He’s so…mysterious"

Your staring had led to some rumors spreading around but nothing crazy, you weren’t the first to show any interest in five but it did become slightly embarrassing when you caught him staring at you during a New Year’s party.

Then you were surprised to find him up in your department looking for you.

"I thought I’ll drop by instead of our regular routine of you staring down at home like a hawk and me pretending I don’t see you"

"Oh…sorry?"

"I’ll accept good coffee and a conversation as a form of apology, meet at six outside."

Did he just ask you out? You weren’t so sure about it but it did happen and there were cameras, and to say the least, you became everyone’s business within a few hours.

"Care to tell me why a woman like you was staring at old me? I know your job here and what you’re capable of" He was so calm it made you shiver but you still kept your professional face on.

"You know as much as me that if I let something out both of us would be counting our days here"

"I see the rumors are true" He smirked

"Which ones?" Your curiosity peaked.

He took a sip from his cup "that’s a subject for another day with a much filling meal"

You bit your lip and chuckled "Are you asking me to dinner?"

The older gentleman eyed you so intensely you could almost feel the blush creeping at the back of your neck "I know a good restaurant in 1987 France"

"Hmm, it’s a date then"

"Only if you keep wearing that red lipstick of yours"

So he was watching you too "don’t tempt me I might rebel off and put something else, mess with you a little"

"I thought your department was too much of a bunch of goody two shoes"

You smiled at him then moved your under the table and kicked foot making him wince in pain.

"Pick me up at 7:30pm and a word of advice, watch out for chainsaw at your next mission" You stops leaving him stunned and clearly interested.

"Will do, will do."

#five hargreaves x you #imagine #five hargreeves x you #five x y/n #five hargreaves x reader #five hargreeves x reader #five the umbrella academy #five x reader #five headcanons #five hargreeves #netflix the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy

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merchelsea · 7 months

Text

can we go back? - oscar piastri

pairing: oscar piastri x fem!bestfriend!reader

summary: you and oscar decided to take a step forward on your friendship to become more and maybe that wasn't the right thing to do.

author’s note: i love oscar i had to write him

warnings: friends to lovers but also idiots who fell in love and can’t deal with it

masterlist

THURSDAY as you stood before the grand mirror in your room, you hurried to complete your makeup before oscar arrived. preparing for your first date was no easy task, especially when you were going out with your childhood best friend.

during all the years you spent together, that was the first time he actually seemed interested in being more than friends. it turns out he'd been harboring a crush on you since high school, though he had hidden it well.

you were filled with excitement, but a tiny part of you was also gripped by fear, worrying that things might go wrong.

you couldn’t give that thought space to grow into you, but it was there, in the back of your mind.

sooner than expected, there was a knock on your bedroom door, and when you opened it, you were greeted by a bouquet of white roses, your first ever. "oh my god, oscar, these are so beautiful. thank you," you smiled, genuinely touched. oscar was dressed in a white long-sleeved button-up shirt and beige shorts, looking as handsome as ever.

"you're welcome. I know these are your favorites, so I thought..." he began to explain, somewhat nervously. "well, I'm glad you like them," he finished, handing you your purse as you both prepared to head downstairs.

after finding a vase and placing the roses in water, you bid farewell to your mom and left the house. oscar had chosen to take you to lunch, a familiar choice to make the date feel less strange. there was no room for strangeness, not after taking this step forward.

upon arriving at the restaurant, the waitress promptly approached your table, leaving little room for conversation. you both ordered drinks first and decided to select your meals later.

you tried to get into every topic you could think of, both of you making an effort to keep a conversation, but it was just weird. it didn’t feel right. oscar looked like a whole different person.

you tried to engage in various topics, each of you making an effort to keep the conversation going, but something felt off. oscar seemed different, like a changed person. he was nervous, his usual habits absent. this wasn't the oscar you knew.

you wondered what might be going on in his mind but couldn't come up with a reasonable answer. finally, the waitress returned to take your food orders, but your meal was consumed in an uncomfortable silence.

it was frustrating to be sitting across from your best friend, sharing a meal in such awkward silence. "this is so strange," oscar commented once the waitress collected your empty plates. you nodded and managed a smile. "I'll pay, just to make up for putting you through this." he offered, reaching for his black leather wallet.

"no, you won´t." you protested, taking out your wallet as well, but he managed to snatch it away from you. "yes, I will!" he grinned.

after paying, he walked you home. in front of your door you invited him to come in, and he declined but stopped you from getting in as well.

after paying, oscar walked you home. at your doorstep, you invited him inside, but he declined, though he stopped you from entering as well. "hey, I'm sorry for this. maybe asking you out on a date wasn't a good idea..." he began, and your heart raced, fearing the break. "maybe I messed everything up," he continued, running his fingers through his hair. his words came out in a rapid stream, and you had to piece together the meaning. "not that I don't like you; I love you, but... this date didn't go as I expected."

love. he loves you. that was all your heart could hear and before you knew it you were smiling like an idiot.

“I don’t know what got into you but you were not my oscar in there.” you point your finger in the streets direction.

"I was trying to impress you, I don't even know. lando gave me some tips, and I just followed them. I guess it didn't work." the british might be skilled with women, but you didn't love oscar for his ability to please the opposite sex. you loved him for his care, his lousy jokes that always made you laugh, his habit of crossing his legs, and how he always maintained eye contact.

“oscar, I fell in love with my best friend, not with lando’s tips.” you took his hand into yours and with the other one, removed his sunglasses. “if you wanted to impress me you could’ve just been yourself.”

he squeezed your hand and remained silent while looking into your eyes. the sentence "i fell in love" playing in loop inside of his head.

"fell in love?" with his free hand he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear.

"fell in love, osc." you placed your hand on top of his and caressed it with your thumb.

oscar smiled as much as he could before leaning in. he looked deeply into your eyes, just as your mother appeared, wondering why the door had been left open for so long.

"oh, I'm sorry. I just- you two continue whatever you were doing." she rushed in with a grin planted on her lips, as she had been fantasizing about the two of you getting married since he took you to prom.

"oh my god." oscar laughs. "she's going to call my mum." you chuckled. "she absolutely is."

you both stood in an akward silence for a while, uncertain whether to pick up where you left off or not.

"i should probably go." oscar said, not wanting to but feeling the need to.

"yeah, you probably should." agreeing was the last thing you wanted to do, but what more could you do? "when will you leave for the US?" you asked, trying to make sence of the timeline.

"this sunday. my flight is at 4 p.m." you nodded, and he indicated his intention to leave. your mind wanted to stop him, but your body felt paralyzed.

"well, goodbye, osc."

"goodbye, y/n."

SUNDAY you rushed into your car, determined to get there as quickly as possible. making a last-minute decision was already risky, but this one was even riskier. if you missed this opportunity due to overthinking, you'd never forgive yourself.

oscar would be leaving in thirty minutes, and with the distance between your house and the airport, you were unlikely to make it on time.

but what would this world be without a little faith? you had to believe.

that "believing" might result in a few traffic violations for running red lights and overtaking where you sh(c)ouldn't, but you were undeterred. when you finally reached the airport, you rushed inside, scanning for a papaya-colored shirt, not even certain if he was wearing one.

your watch displayed 4:46 p.m., and you quickly realized you wouldn't find your long time bestfriend anywhere. you reluctantly accepted defeat and returned to your car; you were too late.

closing the door of your bmw, you heard a brake noise coming from your left and shoot your head in that direction. your eyes fell over a papaya colored shirt and its owner. oscar was right there.

you immediately hopped out of the car and hurried toward him. he was beginning to sprint, trying to catch that plane, so you yelled his name before it was too late again.

the McLaren driver turned to face you, initially looking puzzled but breaking into a smile once he realized it was you. "what the hell are you doing here?" he asked, walking toward you. you wrapped your arms around him in a tight hug.

"I need to talk to you," you whispered, and he closed his eyes, savoring the moment. realizing he had indeed missed his flight, you both decided to head to a coffee shop a short distance from the airport. oscar ordered a much-needed coffee, and you asked for a bottle of water.

"you don't want anything to eat?" he asked again.

"if I eat now, I might throw up," you replied, your nerves being a wrcking mess on your system. the thought of almost kissing him and then not speaking to him left you in turmoil. you couldn't help but imagine what life would be like without him, and it was a depressing thought.

"you can't get into that plane without having a proper conversation about what happened." you demanded, panic evident in your voice. "what would you do if you hadn't lost it? never talk to me again?"

you knew he could never do such thing, but the mere thought of that made you sick to your stomach. he remained silent, not wanting to overstep.

"why the hell did you leave, that day?" you asked, bewildered.

"why the hell did you let me leave?" he retorted.

"i couldn't stop you."

"you know you could. one word and i would have came back. you know that."

"it didn't seem like you wanted to stay." you replied, a hint of frustration in your voice.

emotions were running high, and no matter how heated the words felt, you were getting closer and closer, with onlookers easily sensing that this was not a "I'm going to slap you" kind of proximity.

"I damn sure wanted to," he admitted, his eyes shifting between your eyes and your mouth. your eyes betrayed you when they did the same.

as the emotional tension grew between you and the papaya driver, the coffee shop around you seemed to fade into the background. the undeniable chemistry and connection you shared couldn't be ignored any longer.

without another word, you closed the distance between you, capturing oscar's lips with yours. the kiss was filled with all the unspoken words, the longing, and the pent-up emotions from the past. it was a moment of pure clarity, a confirmation of the love that had been silently brewing for years.

when you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless and wide-eyed, caught up in the electrifying moment. it was a defining point in your relationship, marking the transition from best friends to something deeper and more profound.

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lovings4turn · 4 months

Text

୭ 🗝️ ✧ ˚. 🪩 rum and revelations . . . (l.s.)

— after one too many drinks at a party, logan forgets how to keep his own secrets. but drunk words are sober thoughts, right? (1k words)

+ inspired by this ask from my lovely dolly — i know this was a sugar n spice saturday ask but it just made my mind go BRRR so i had to write a full fic!

+ contains fluff, drinking and drunk behaviour, mentions of vomiting but no one is actually sick. divider from cafekitsune

“woah, sorry!”

before you can react, logan is slumped against your side, essentially placing his full body weight onto you. high-pitched laughter escapes his lips as he attempts to steady himself, placing a hand onto the wall you’re both leaning against as he regains his balance.

there’s no mistaking it. he’s drunk. absolutely shit-faced, to be more precise.

but you can’t really blame him. all of his hard work and determination had finally paid off, and just a few hours earlier he’d earned his first points of the formula one season. what kind of friend would you be to deny him the chance to celebrate? especially when such a large party had been thrown, a friend of one of logan’s friends offering up their house to host.

“feeling okay?” you ask, an amused smile tugging at your lips as he lifts his head.

“never better,” he responds.

even his voice suggests he’s a little worse for wear. his accent has somehow grown thicker, and his words are a little sluggish, slurred together in a blur of vowels and consonants with a meaning wrapped up somewhere in the middle. a couple of glasses of champagne paired with tequila shots and rum and cokes will do that to a person, you suppose.

any conversation dies on your tongue as logan slumps forward once more, warm forehead resting against your shoulder as he emits a low groan. if it weren’t for his shoulders shaking with laughter, you would have been concerned.

“this is what you call ‘never better’?” you tease.

without thinking, you lift your hand to his hair, carding your fingers through the blonde strands in a motion that you hope is soothing. logan’s response comes in the form of an incomprehensible groan, and you can’t help but laugh yourself.

“i think it’s starting to hit me,” he admits, removing his head from your shoulder.

his eyes are a little glazed over, and though he’s smiling, there’s a far away look on his face that indicates the copious amounts of alcohol is starting to catch up with him.

“alright, let’s get you some water,” you say, the smile audible in your voice.

you and logan are no strangers to taking care of one another. you had been best friends for the past five years or so, so you’d had your fair share of looking after the other when they got a little too carried away at a party. still, you don’t think you’ve ever seen logan this bad.

you take his hand in yours, lifting his arm until it’s draped around your shoulder in an effort to support his weight. he stumbles alongside you, mumbling inaudible comments to himself and bursting into gratuitous laughter as he trips over his own feet.

some divine force must be on your side, as you’re able to find an empty room without trouble. god knows how you would have reacted if you’d… interrupted something between two other partygoers.

you lead logan over to the queen sized bed, sitting him down despite his protests that he’s perfectly capable of doing it on his own. luck was certainly with you, as the room you’d selected bore an ensuite bathroom.

“wait here,” you instruct, striding over to the bathroom and filling a glass with cold water.

as the crisp water fills the glass, you check yourself over in the mirror. when you think about it, you’re not sure why. sure, you don’t want to be walking around with smudged makeup, or your hair a mess, but it’s also just logan. he’s seen you at your very worst sober, so why should it matter how he sees you now, when his vision is likely double?

you thrust the glass into his hand, cupped palm coming to sit under his chin as he greedily downs the liquid. a few droplets hit your hand, and you hold back a shiver at the cold temperature.

“y’okay?”

“i’m not gonna vomit, if that’s what you mean.” he jokes, and you smile back.

it’s quiet for a moment, until logan speaks again.

“thanks, y/n. i’m sorry, you should be enjoying yourself. yet you’re here taking care of me.”

logan exhales, throwing himself backwards until his back hits the mattress.

“don’t apologise, logan. if there’s any night for you to get shitfaced, it’s tonight,” you reason, giving him a smile. “anyways, ‘m happy to do it. long as i know you’re okay.”

“you’re too nice,” logan mumbles, his tone once again far away, as though his mind is somewhere else entirely. “y’know, this is why i like you so much. you’re always so nice to me.”

suddenly, your heart is in your throat.

“what?” you ask, forcing out a laugh.

he’s drunk. you reason. he has no clue what he’s saying.

“i mean, y’always there for me. at every grand prix, even when i’ve fucked a race, you’re in the garage for me. you always answer my calls, and you’re just really nice. and really pretty. my god, you’re so pretty,” logan mumbles.

his eyes are closed, and it’s apparent to you that he has no idea what he’s saying.

“oscar’s tired of me talking about you, actually. though he promises it’s not your fault. it’s mine, for talking about you so much. oscar thinks you’re great.”

you’re glad he’s out of it, because it would be impossible to hide your flushed cheeks and dropped jaw.

“of course,” you respond, begging your tone to stay even. “we’re best friends. and i’m fucking amazing.”

logan scoffs a laugh.

“yeah, ‘best friends’. not like i’ve been in love with you since we met or anything.”

it’s clear his tone is begging to be joking, but the alcohol prohibits him from being convincing. your heart is in your throat, and you swallow it down, praying it doesn’t try to crawl back out. instinctively, your hand finds itself in logan’s hair once more and you sigh, biting back a smile.

“we’ll talk when you’re sober, yeah? i think you’ll be quite pleased with how the conversation turns out.”

logan nods at this, leaning further into your touch. when he finally responds, his voice is thick with sleep.

"mm, sounds good. love you."

your heart skips a beat as you smile.

"yeah. love you too."

🏷️ tags : @faerieroyal @starriesworlds @itscrzy

#.° ༘🗝️⋆₊ becca’s drabbles #logan sargeant #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant fluff #logan sargeant x you #logan sargeant blurb #logan sargeant drabble #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fluff

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cheolhub · 11 months

Note

IM STUPID i thought you meant we can send in a max of three number and member pairings for you to choose from for ur milestone event 🧍‍♀️pls ignore my first ask (ONLY IF U HAVENT GOTTEN TO IT YET AJDJSK)

can i have “Could he make you feel as good as i do?” + “We’re not just friends and you fucking know it.” For gyugyu 🥺 i still haven't recovered from the oneshot you posted yesterday 🧍‍♀️

FWB!MINGYU

prompt. “could he make you feel as good as i do?” + “we’re not just friends and you fucking know it.”

wc. 915

warnings. fwb!gyu, fem!reader, mirror sex, jealousy, possessiveness, gyu is a bit rough, dirty talk, pet names, cumshot, tears, kinda angsty? — MINORS DNI 18+

note. god u sent this the first week of march for my THREE KAY event… now im at 4k, and i am so sorry 🤣 anyway this wasn’t proofread and it’s literally a mess, but i hope u like it anyway ;-; thank u sm for requesting (even if it did take me 8 years to get to haha)

“would you look at that?” mingyu laughs against your ear. “might wanna redo your makeup once i’m done, baby, you’ve cried it all off.”

he’s not wrong. when you open your eyes and take in the sight in front of you and nearly choke on a sob. you’re a mess– smeared eyeliner, mascara staining your cheeks and lipstick smudged around your mouth– no longer ready for your date. the one that starts 15 minutes from now.

when you’d told mingyu– a friend who you occasionally frequently fuck– you were ready to start dating again, he thought you were bluffing. how could you want to date anyone else when he was right in front of you? you and him are practically dating– you go out and do couple-y things then you go back to one of your places and you fuck– you just lack the label.

and that’s because both of you needed something sexual, but neither of you were ready for a relationship.

now that you are– now that you’re going on a date with some fucker who probably doesn’t even deserve you– he’s upset. beyond upset, actually. he’s livid.

that’s why he bent you over your bathroom’s vanity, pushed your dress up and makeup products to the ground and thought to prove himself to you.

now his hand tugs at your hair, essentially forcing you to stare at yourself while he reduces you to a mess like he does every time his cock is inside of you.

“mmh, could he make you feel as good as i do, huh? you think he knows how to make this pretty pussy feel good?” the question comes through gritted teeth and it finally clicks in your dumb little brain. “i don’t fucking think so.”

“y-you’re jealous?” you’re able to ask, though it’s choked. his reply never comes, but his thrusts get harsher– merciless– and you take it as a wordless admission, crying out your next words, “me ‘n you are jus’ friends, g-gyu!”

he tugs at your hair harder and the other hand that resides on your waist squeezes your skin gratingly. “we’re not just friends and you fucking know it.” he replies, voice hushed and raw with emotion.

you do. you know it. you and mingyu are glued at the hip both figuratively and literally. there’s no one on the earth that makes you feel a quarter of what you feel for him. and you also know there isn’t a single man who could fuck you as well as mingyu does.

but when you told him you wanted to start dating, he brushed you off with a “yeah, right,” and it made you believe that there wasn’t a chance with him. you figured that the idea of you and mingyu being together was simply a dream that would never happen.

though, you’re not so sure anymore because he’s spewing out possessive words faster than you can comprehend while his cock stirs you up.

what you didn’t know was that you’ve always had mingyu in the palm of your hand. he was whipped. wrapped around your finger. he doesn’t want to share you– he never has.

“he’s never gonna make you feel this good,” he confidently states. “you’re made for me.”

“fuck!” you cry, tightening around his cock at the affirmation. “mingyu, please!”

“that’s it, pretty, say my fuckin’ name.” he moans, sloppily thrusting into you as his mind runs away from him. “look at me and tell me how much you like it.”

your eyes nearly cross as they try to find him in the mirror, but when they land on his, you feel yourself grow even hotter. “love it. i love it, gyu.”

he smiles triumphantly like he’s won the lottery. he’s sure that this is better, though. you? admitting to the fact that you love the way he fucks you? fucking priceless.

“yeah? you love my cock?” he asks, cockily, yet he knows the answer.

you give him a broken nod, “so much!”

“why don’t you cum for me, baby. cum all over this cock ‘n show me how much you love it.” he coaxes breathily, continuing to fuck you into oblivion.

you can’t stop yourself as soon as you hear his request. the tight coil in the pit of your tummy comes undone as you sob out his name. you trap his twitching cock between his spasming cunt all the while he fucks you through your blinding orgasm. every second feels more euphoric than the last, more tears running down your face at the pleasure.

mingyu isn’t far behind you with the way you grip him so heavenly. he’s quickly pulling out, the hand in your hair coming to wrap around his cock. you whine at the loss of his warmth, but you’re pleasantly surprised when you hear the lewd noise of his hand vigorously pumping himself and the sounds of his pretty groans.

he lets out a string of curses, hand moving quicker before his body jerks and his ribbons of his cum spurt out. some of it lands on your bare ass, but the majority ends up on your date outfit. he can’t help but smile at the fact that he’s ruined your pretty outfit. one meant for someone who isn’t him.

“actually, i think you should cancel your date.” he pants. “ be sure to tell him that you’re taken now.”

he watches the way you nod and he can’t help but feel proud of himself. you’re his and he’s yours.

#mingyu smut #svt smut #3k milestone #[💌: cryoculus]#★︎ — kai !

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rafetopia · 6 months

Text

𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

- 𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!exgf!reader, topper thornton x fem!gf!reader (only mentioned)

genre: smut & minor angst -> 18+only

warnings: smutty stuff, mentions of past toxic relationship, some soft!rafe, some mean!rafe, name calling, mentions of drugs, choking (in a non sexual way), ass slapping, cheating, unprotected sex, lmk if k forgot something

words: ~3.3k

request: okay!! i wanted to request a rafe x reader based off the song ‘why are you here’ by machine gun kelly. write it however you want🖤 (by anonymous)

summary: after seeing your ex rafe in the club, you have to learn once again why the two of you never could’ve worked out, no matter how much you both wished you could

note: this is a repost from my old blog, which is why you might have seen it before. also i don’t remember if it’s proofread

also big thank you to my baby @chaos-mybeloved for beta reading this one for me

also i’m sorry for the format idk how to format my stuff

I hate that I saw you again last night

You were with somebody and so was I

Met you in the bathroom at 12:05

And I fucked you again

We can never be friends, yeah, yeah, yeah

“Baby, I’m gonna get another drink, you want one?” Topper screamed into your ear, trying to drown out the noise.

You shook your head with a smile and focused back on the music. They were playing your favorite song, there was no way you’d stop dancing just for another drink. The dance floor was full and still, most eyes were fixated on you, as you moved your body perfectly to the rhythm of the song. You were no professional dancer but you sure as hell knew what you were doing.

Concentrated on the music, you didn’t notice the new pair of eyes watching you from the corner of the dance floor. The young man was talking to the girl next to him but his gaze never moved from your body. The blonde must’ve noticed as her voice grew angry but the man didn’t seem to care. He wasn’t even listening to the words thrown at him, his attention only belonging to you.

The song was coming to an end and you opened your eyes back up, slowly adjusting to your surroundings. You did that sometimes while dancing, closing your eyes so you could focus more on the music and enjoy the moment instead of getting distracted by the people around you. You looked around, trying to see if you could find your boyfriend when your eyes met his. A sudden feeling of sadness and anger rushed through your body, keeping you from focusing. Your mind was all over the place, tons of thoughts blocking your mind all at once.

Unsure of how you got there, you found yourself in one of the club bathrooms, hanging above the sink. You tried to keep the tears inside your eyes and normally you were good at that but when it came to him, everything was different. You placed your hands on the sides of the sink, trying to keep your body from falling down when the door to the bathroom opened. You didn’t need to look up in order to know who it was.

“I’m pretty sure the tits on the door stand for “women”.” You spat out.

“(Y/N)…”

“What do you want, Cameron?” You hissed, now turning around to look directly into his light gray eyes.

His gaze went down to the ground, clearly trying to avoid your anger. “I don’t know… You looked sad and I… I wanted to see if you were okay.”

“I’m fine.” You hissed, turning away from him. You looked into the mirror but the girl you met looked far from fine. Sure her makeup and hair looked perfect, but her eyes told a different story. They were watery, seconds from bursting out into tears. She tried to keep herself together but the presence of the boy behind her made everything harder.

You took a deep breath and looked at the boy in the mirror. His hair was a mess, sure it looked good, it always did but not because he put any effort into it. His lips were smiling but his eyes never were good at lying. You had always loved his eyes, the way they sparkled in the morning sun or the way they lit up when you told him one of your unfunny dad jokes that always made him laugh. He always sounded so beautiful when he was laughing, a sound you haven't heard in a very long time but missed terribly. He was in pain, clearly and it hurt you but it wasn’t that that was your fault. At least not completely.

“Listen…” He started, not sure if he should continue or just turn around and leave. “I… I’m sorry that you’re sad. Don’t like seeing you like this.”

“Don’t like seeing me like this?” You laughed. “That’s funny.” You turned around, now facing him directly. “Now be honest Cam-”

“Stop calling me that.”

“But that’s your fucking name now isn’t it?” You paused, walking one step closer to him. “Now be honest, why are you here, Cameron?”

“Like I already said (Y/L/N), because I wanted to see if you were okay.” He pressed, his face now only inches away from yours.

“Hmm. You see, I was okay I was having the time of my life until you and your blonde accessory of the week waltzed in.”

“Ohhh, my accessory of the week hm? Says the one who’s fucking my best friend.” His eyes were dark and his voice turned low. It was obvious how angry he was, something that had never stopped you from topping it off once more.

“That’s right Rafe Cameron, I’m fucking your best friend.” You paused, knowing if you’d go down that road, there would be no going back. “And guess what, he’s better at-” You wanted to continue but got cut off by Rafe's hand around your throat.

“Better at what sweetheart hm?” He whispered. “Tell me, darling.”

“There it is.” You grinned wickedly. “There’s the Rafe Cameron I know and hate.”

That hit him. It was obvious, his grip tightened around your throat and his eyes flickered. He knew you were mad at him but knowing you actually hated him, hit him harder than he thought it would. He wanted to say something, he wanted to spit out a response so dark even the devil would flinch but he couldn’t.

Your body tensed at the loss of oxygen flowing through your throat and you felt your heart fasten but you didn’t flinch. You met his dark gaze and countered with an even darker one. It was like when you were still together, you would challenge and provoke each other until one of you snapped. It had always been like this and it never changed even after you broke up.

He opened his mouth, about to say something when he stopped and let go of your throat. You gasped for air, your hand automatically wandering to your throat. He had done this shit before but never as strong and tight as he did now. His gaze wandered down to the hand on your throat and something in his eyes changed as if he was sorry. He held his hands up and took a few steps back until his back met the wall behind him.

“You know I… I…” He tried but clearly struggled with finding the right words. “I… I’m…” He looked at you, hoping for you to say something but you stayed silent. “You know what, forget it.” He pulled out before ripping the bathroom door open and making his way outside.

Split seconds later and his lips crashed onto yours. You didn’t quite remember how this happened, how your arm reached after him, how you pulled him towards you, or how he smashed the door back shut behind him, all you knew was how much you needed him, how much you missed him.

His hands wandered around your waist as he pulled you closer to him. You had only been making out for a few seconds but you could feel his hardened erection on your body, which turned you on even more. Your hands wandered through his hair, something that you had always loved to do when you were making out.

“Let me show you who the better lover is, sweetheart.” He whispered into your ear. “Bet Topper can’t make you scream the way I’m about to do.” His mouth wandered down your neck, gently kissing and sucking on your soft skin while his hand pushed down your left strap. Your dress was tight but it wasn’t enough to make it fall down your body but it was enough to make your left tit fall out.

He smirked at the sight of your exposed nipple before leaning down and gently sucking on it. He got more passionate with each second, causing you to grow impatient. You placed your finger under his chin and pulled his face back up to yours.

“I need you, to fuck me, Rafe Cameron. Now.” You whispered.

“Mhhh so needy for someone who hates me so bad.” He hummed with a grin on his face. “What would your boyfriend say if he saw his girl like this, all wet for me already, hm? Bet he can’t make you wet like this that fast.”

You rolled your eyes and hopped on the sink behind you, spreading your legs wide apart leaving him no choice but to look down at your exposed thong that was barely enough fabric to cover your folds. You gently let your hand wander through his hair before pulling him towards you. “I. Said. Fuck. Me. Rafe Cameron.” You smirked and continued: “Before I go out there and tell everyone that Topper's dick is bigger than yours.”

His eyes widened in surprise. “Is it?”

“Oh god.” You groaned before pushing his head down to your crotch.

He chuckled before placing his teeth on your thong, ripping it from your body with one quick pull. You moaned at the sight of it and let your head fall back onto the mirror. He got down on his knees and started tongue fucking your pussy like there was no tomorrow. He had always had his special ways, techniques only Rafe Cameron knew how to use but this boy never failed to surprise you. You tried to keep quiet, afraid someone would hear you but he made it very hard when he added his thumb to the party. Soon, he started rubbing soft circles around your clit, something that had always been your weakness.

“Rafe…” You moaned out. “I’m close.”

He didn’t answer but you could feel him smirk against your soaking wet pussy. He sped up his pace, even adding another finger knowing how much you’d always loved it. You tried to hold on to the sink you were sitting on, nearly breaking off a nail as you press your fingertips against the cold ceramic. He could feel your walls tighten around his finger and shortly after, you were cumming all over him. He removed his finger and sucked off your juice, something he’d always loved to do.

You were still holding on to the sink, trying to prepare for what was about to come next. From experience you knew, there was no way in hell he’d let you go without having fucked you at least once, and regarding the boner that was pressing against your stomach, he wouldn't make an exception now.

He smashed his lips onto yours, not leaving any room for you to breathe. Your hands wandered down and unbuckled his belt, quickly exposing his hardened erection. You were about to push him inside you when pulled away.

“Uh, Uh, turn around for me baby, let me see that pretty ass of yours while I fuck you.”

He didn’t need to tell you twice, you quickly hopped off the counter and turned around making him able to slide right into you, causing you both to moan out at the sudden contact.

“Fuck (Y/N) you’re still so tight.”

“What, did you think Topper’s dick is so big it would’ve stretched me out?”

You could see his eye roll through the mirror, causing you to chuckle silently. “Glad to see you still have that pretty big mouth. Let’s see what we can do about that, huh?” He whispered into your ear as he leaned forward, his eyes never leaving yours. He reached into his pocket and pulled the ripped piece of fabric before shoving it into your mouth. “Now, we don’t want anyone to find out what a dirty little slut you are now do we?” You nodded quickly, hoping it would get him to finally start fucking you.

Your hopes were heard and soon you were met with his hips thrusting into your ass, making clap sounds every time your skin touched. His hands held onto your hips as his thrusts got faster and faster with every move. He pulled your hips closer to him, changing the ankle which made him reach the spot that made you lose all your senses. You wanted to scream out his name but instead, felt tears forming in your eyes caused by your inability to do so.

This of cource didn’t go unnoticed by him, causing him to grin and only sped up his pace, fucking you even harder than before. His eyes wandered from your face down to your ass where he watched it wiggle because of his movements. He loved the sight in front of him, you being all messed up because of him, salty tears rolling down your face, colored black mixed with your eyeliner, and your ass presented in front of him, begging him to get slapped. In fact, it was his favorite sight. He tried not to think about it too much but he tried to burn that image deep inside his mind, scared he wouldn’t be able to see it again that fast, if ever.

He wished he could’ve gone like this forever but there was still the risk of getting caught and even though he didn’t care, he knew you would, and believe it or not but upsetting you was the last thing he wanted. So he softly let his hands slide over your body, down to your clit where he placed his finger for support. You let your head fall back onto his shoulder, as he still leaned over you. He loved the way your skin felt on his, a feeling he had never felt with anyone else. He loved the way your hair smelled when you let yourself fall back, even though he hated having hair on his face.

You weren’t able to moan his name out loud but by the way, your nails dug into his thigh, he knew you were close and so was he. He sped up once again, causing you to reach your high almost synchronized with him. You could feel his cum shooting through your body as you tried to recover from your own orgasm.

Even though you were able to free yourself from your own panties by now, you still had trouble catching your breath which didn’t go unnoticed by the boy, still inside of you.

“Hey, are you okay?” He asked softly.

You nodded and gave him a happy smile through the mirror, causing him to smile himself. Oh, much he missed that smile. How much he missed you in general. But he knew you didn’t work out, you tried several times and it always ended in tears.

He slowly pulled out and quickly grabbed the piece of paper that you were handing him before you got yourself your own. The both of you cleaned yourself up and got back dressed. He wanted to say something, how much he enjoyed being close to you like this again but the words didn’t come out.

You watched him silently as he struggled to close his belt because it was stuck once again. You silently laughed at the sight in front of you, the boy that just fucked you mercilessly against the sink in the bathroom of your favorite club struggling with a task as simple as closing his belt. It reminded you of a side of Rafe, that he barely showed anyone these days. The side where he allowed himself to struggle, where he allowed himself to be human and not that perfect business robot, Ward Cameron tried to force him to be.

I'm a demon in the night

She's an angel with the white

Told me keep on all the lights

I'ma show you what you like

Help you put back on your clothes

Make sure nothing's on your nose

Ain't even tell my closest homies, nobody knows

“Here let me help you.” You said as you stepped forward and took the matter into your own hands. “I thought you’d thrown this thing out by now, it has been causing problems since the day I bought it for you.”

“It’s still working.” He answered, but there was a shift in his voice. He sounded harsher than before as if someone got into his mind and reminded him how he was supposed to act.

“Whatever you say then.” You mourned as you slid the belt into the buckle.

You got back up, ready to leave when he pulled you back. “You shouldn’t go out like that, here let me fix you.” He grabbed a piece of paper and poured some water on it, before softly removing black makeup stains from your face. He was very careful, not wanting to hurt you. “I think that’s it but maybe you should… like redo that or something… I don’t know. You always used to do that.”

“Right.” You grabbed into your bag and pulled out a thin, black eyeliner. “Do you want to do it? You used to like doing it.”

“Sure.” He chuckled. He wasn’t particularly good at drawing your eyeliner but you didn’t care. It always felt special when Rafe did your makeup, no matter if it looked perfect or not. You never let anyone do your makeup but there was something about the expression he made once he finished that you just couldn’t resist.

“You know… we could try to stay friends, at least.” You proposed carefully. “If you want to.”

“I don’t want to be your friend, (Y/N). When will you get that into your thick skull that this will never happen?” He spat out as he handed you back your eyeliner. “Like we could never be friends. Like… like what would we even do… as… as friends? Like, what would that friendship be good for?”

“Geez, as you wish Cameron, but know that this… whatever this was… will never happen again.” You paused, trying to fight back your incoming tears. “Like ever.”

“Fine by me.” He mumbled under his breath, but still loud enough for you to hear.

“Good, it’s settled then. I go back to Topper and you can go back to snorting coke off some whores ass.” You spat as you grabbed your bag and stormed out of the door.

He saw you walking through the crowd and stumbling back into the arms of your boyfriend.

Rafe knew he fucked up, but it was for the better. He knew how the both of you could get when you didn’t share the same opinion on something. He knew what power his words held over you if he lost control and said things he never wanted to say. He had seen you before, broken down on his kitchen floor between shattered bottles of glass after the both of you lost it. It was painful, seeing you walk back to Topper, the boy he used to call his best friend. He knew he’d go back to snorting coke, he could already feel the lack of substances in his blood and deep down, he knew Topper was the better man. He knew he wouldn’t hurt you the way he did, he never could and he was right. Topper could never hurt you the way Rafe did but that wasn’t because he was the better man, it was because Rafe had something that Topper never would. You loved him.

I hate that I saw you again last night

You were with somebody and so was I

Met you in the bathroom at 12:05

And I fucked you again

We can never be friends

#jas writes ❥#rafe cameron #outer banks #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x female reader #outer banks fanfiction

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ghostchems · 5 months

Text

infernal - terzo x f!reader - part three

art by the insanely talented @stainedlilac!

author’s note: sorry for the delay but i've been tinkering with this for a few months! i get married in a week so this is my wedding gift to you all. it's here and he's stoney-baloneyed and hot and bad and our poor reader is falling right into his trap. we got some defiling of a scarf this chapter. it's about 4.1k words. part one here, part two here. ao3 linky.

“She’s not even listening!”

Your eyes blink into focus on Catherine who is laughing. You groan and lovingly give her a dirty look.

“It’s Friday, let me zone out if I want to.” You slouch in your seat and twirl your glass in your hands. What had they been talking about? You try to remember but they are right — you absolutely have not been listening and you do feel bad about it. It’s been harder to make plans ever since you started your new job, despite the normal hours. Most nights you come home exhausted but also strangely excited for the next day to start. This is the first time you’ve seen your friends since and you should at least try to pay attention.

“Okay, okay I guess zoning out is okay. I guess you can’t do too much of that at your new job?” Erica chimes in and leans over the table closer to you. “I feel like whenever we didn’t have calls we would always have these zone out staring contests.”

“Oh my gosh, yes. And then we would realize that we’ve been staring at each other for a weird amount of time.” You give a soft laugh. You do miss working with Erica but you don’t miss the job. Catherine starts to chime in about how she barely has any time to zone out as a teacher and your mind starts to drift again, having heard this kind of talk from her so many times before.

You think about what happened today. There have been situations over the last few weeks that made you ache in ways you know you shouldn’t for your boss but today might have been the most intense one yet.

You can’t stop thinking about it.

***

You walk into the den and immediately smell the strong aroma of marijuana which means that you are getting goofy Terzo. There is still some hesitation in your steps, not wanting to bother him especially since from what you can see he is in the middle of watching something. You take a few moments to scan over the den. In the corner of the room is a wooden bar with a fancy cabinet behind it filled with fancy liquors and crystal glasses. You’re surprised by how stylish this room is compared to the rest but then again, the lights are off.

Terzo is snuggled up on the couch in a t-shirt and shorts, his body draped across the couch entwined in a blanket. Your gaze drifts to the television and you gasp, giving up your position in the room. Terzo’s eyes immediately find you and he gives you a sleepy, sideways grin. His makeup is smudged which is common but it looks particularly messed up around his eyes. He’s been wanting you to come in here to see him, his mind wandering from the television every so often to think what would happen if you did — and now you’re here.

“Ah, toppolino! Come, have a seat.” He slinks into the corner of the couch, offering you the space next to him as he gives it a few pat, heavy-lidded eyes giving you a flirty look. You swallow thickly, hesitating for what feels like an eternity before you relent, your feet feeling heavy as you walk over to the couch. You take a seat where he gestured and he’s quick to offer you the half-lit joint between his fingers, his shoulder leaning against yours as he quirks a brow. A breath catches in your throat — you’ve worked for him for weeks now and he always offered but something always held you back from accepting.

Not today.

You take a deep, long drag as he holds the lighter to the joint, his eyes never leaving your face. It burns but you don’t cough, perhaps trying a bit too hard not to. Terzo is so pleased, his smile only widening as he watches you inhale and exhale the weed. He feels a rush from you finally giving into this temptation, having tried to lure you in since you started. You don’t know that he’s been eagerly awaiting you to accept because he saw it as another step closer to doing what he wants with you. He’s slowly trying to wear away at your boundaries, especially after your reaction to him raising his voice to you. Terzo knew he could get you to play along.

You feel him relax next to you, leaning in to rest his head on your shoulder as he turns his attention back to the television. Your eyes stay trained on the floor for a long moment, caught off guard by him. A blush rises to your cheeks. You choose not to think too hard about it and end up being your gaze up to focus on the footage playing.

“I didn’t think you were in an acoustic band.” You say after a long moment of silence, becoming distracted by the video. It’s of him, dressed in the clothes you’ve grown so used to seeing in photos, performing to a small crowd of people, flanked by two men in masks. Terzo laughs, deep and full, and it makes you smile. He doesn’t laugh like that often.

“I am a man of many talents, puffetta. This was to give the public a little taste of myself and the new album. We did a handful of these acoustic shows.” He picks up some blanket and smoothes it over your lap, heat rising through your chest up to your cheeks as his hand lingers in your lap for a moment. He notices. He always notices. Fingers lightly drift up the top of your thigh before he gently takes your hand in his. Your breath catches in your throat. Terzo’s touch is so soft, his hands feeling like butter as he places your own in his lap.

“You have a very nice singing voice.” Your voice comes out quiet like a house, almost shy about complimenting him on his talents. But in truth, it draws you in like a siren song. The way he moves his body, using his hands to accentuate the lyrics, and the deep eye contact with the camera and those in the crowd, is all but an act of seduction. You almost catch yourself swooning at the way he croons before remembering that he is sitting right beside you on the couch, his thumb brushing against the back of your hand that’s currently in his lap. The weed is hitting and you find yourself staring at the way his thumb moves, the way it feels against your skin, your eyes hazy and your cheeks starting to burn.

“Grazie a mile. I see you like my dance moves too, eh?” He nudges you playfully and you giggle. Giggle! The weed is hitting. You are comfortable next to him, eyes hazy as your attention shifts from him to the videos and then back to him every so often. The more you look at him the more you notice how the brightness of his face starts to fade until his lips are pressed into a straight line. Maybe it’s difficult for him to watch this, his glory days, which seem to be such a thing of the past for some reason.

“Have you thought about getting the band back together? Or doing some solo shows or something? You look like you belong on the stage.”

“It doesn’t work like that, toppolino. My time was up and that was that.” He gives a sigh, shaking his head. There’s genuine sadness in his voice. You don’t understand how it could be so difficult for him to perform again but you choose not to pry. If he wants to talk about it, he would and his short response tells you all that you need to know. Silence passes between the two of you and Terzo lets go of your hand only to curl both of his arms around your waist. You rest your own hands on your stomach and he places his own on top of yours, fingers stroking gently at your wrists. It’s like he knows every way to take your breath away.

Terzo slips his shoulder behind your back, his chest pressing against you and he rests his head on your own shoulder. The two of you continue watching in comfortable silence, his wonderful singing voice filling your ears, his quips and jokes making you giggle. You feel moved by his former self and you feel… bad for him. You never had before but now, seeing how much he thrived in front of a crowd, how at ease he was and how their energy fed him compared to him living completely alone in a giant house makes your heart feel heavy in your chest. It doesn’t last too long, though, his deft touch and the way his exhales tickle your neck clouding your mind along with the weed.

Even with the slightly uncomfortable topic of conversation, Terzo is buzzing. It is taking all of his self control not to pull you into his lap and slip his hands between your legs, to feel if you are as aroused as he is right now. He wants to taste you. He wants to make you whine, to make tears stream down your face from how good he makes you feel, to hear his name dangling off your lips while you are completely at his mercy. Terzo grits his teeth as he holds himself back, trying to revel in the moment without pushing too far.

You start to feel hot. Tension building inside of you that is making it hard to focus on the video. You become all too aware of the way you’re breathing, chest rising and falling with each deep intake of air. Your head starts to feel heavy and you lean back, further pressing your back against Terzo’s chest. He makes a quiet, surprised groan, his hands squeezing your wrists tighter. Your cheeks flush and you feel a familiar throb between your thighs, shifting your body to try and stifle it but it just makes you press even further into him. It feels like something is about to snap inside, a bad decision about to happen even though it’s all you want right now until —

ZAP!

You swear you see a flash of green and then there’s a sharp pain on one of your wrists. A surprised yelp spills out of you and you quickly snatch your hand from his grip. Terzo moves impossibly fast, somehow already on his knees in front of you, your delicate wrist already in his hand.

“Oh no, have I hurt you?” He sounds sick with worry, his fingers lightly brushing over the spot.

“Just a shock. It’s all—“

“Non muoverti, prendo del ghiaccio.” Terzo murmurs and climbs quickly to his feet, leaving you alone in the room as videos of him play on the tv. You have no idea what he said. You run the pad of your thumb lightly over your wrist, reaching the mark only for it to sting from your touch. He’s back and on his knees before you again, already having your wrist in hand as he presses an ice cube wrapped in a paper towel to it. His sleepy, black locks fall into his face as he looks up at you. You watch as he stays focused on you and your reactions while he knits his brows, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth. Care is written all over his face.

It makes you feel wanted.

“I am so sorry, toppolino.” His voice cracks as his eyes drop down to your wrist. He wants to kiss it better so badly. How could he have done that to you? What even was that? Terzo’s mind flickers back to how you felt against him, how warm you were in his arms. He feels a pang of anger for having that moment ripped from him. You reach out and lightly tousle his hair.

“Don’t worry.” You smile shyly and pull the ice cube from his hand so that you can hold it yourself. “I should check how the landscaper is doing.” You almost feel guilty for leaving him but you’re a teensy bit too high to handle the intensity that is radiating off of him. Terzo nods slowly but he still stays kneeling in front of you as you stand. The look in his eyes sends shivers down your spine. You reach out and ruffle his hair as another reassurance but you can’t help but get caught up feeling how soft it is beneath your fingers before leaving the room.

Terzo stays on his knees and presses his face against the cushion of the couch after you’ve gone. Your scent lingers on the blanket. He groans quietly and digs his hands into it, bringing it up to his face. He was so close. So close. Terzo could almost taste you.

How much longer could he wait?

***

“New job is taking up a lot of your time, huh?” Erica asks as you eye your drink, contemplating if you should have another. There’s judgment in her voice but you ignore it, chalking it up to her being maybe a little bit jealous that you’ve escaped the call center.

“Oh, definitely. He’s kind of a mess.” You smile and end up sliding your drink to the center of the table, deciding you’re finished for the night. It is Friday but you still have to drive home and you’re not trying to stay out for longer than you have to. “Rich, though. And also loves weed.”

“He sounds perfect. Maybe you found yourself a sugar daddy.” Catherine speaks up and you find your cheeks flushing red. It’s not the first time you’ve thought of Terzo as daddy.

“He’s already paying me a lot.” You give a shrug, attempting to push the thought of how he had yelled at you, his anger making your core ache for him in a way you’ve never felt before. “But maybe — I might be open to it.” They both giggle. Your mind starts to wander, thinking about what he might be doing now.

Terzo clocked the scarf you removed from your neck that morning. It’s a deep red with a black floral design and a silky texture. You left it on the entryway table and when you left for the day you didn’t notice that it was gone. In fact, you completely forgot all about it. Terzo had grabbed it and slipped it into his pocket before scurrying up the stairs to hide it away in his bedroom. Now, he is laying in bed with it in his hands, feeling the soft satin against his fingers. Maybe he would keep it forever, hidden away in a drawer in his room for him to use when he is missing you. Maybe he’d start a collection of your things.

He hums quietly, tilting his head back against one of his pillows as he brings the scarf to his face. Terzo takes a deep inhale, breathing in your scent and then giving a rumbling moan. He was so close to having you today. He could see it in your eyes how badly you wanted him and then he ruined it. Terzo pulls the scarf from his face, dragging it down his chest before settling it against his shorts. His cock is already bulging and throbbing underneath the fabric just from your scent and reminiscing about earlier in the day. He is certain that the seed is planted, all it needs to do now is take root and grow.

But it would have been so easy to take you today. He could have moved his hand closer and closer to that spot between your legs, lightly drifting his fingers along the seams until you couldn’t take it anymore, begging for him to go just a bit further. You would have spread your legs wide from him as his hand slipped down your pants, toying with the waistband of your panties.

“Fuck.” Terzo’s hips jerk from the scene he has come up with in his mind, pressing your scarf more firmly against his bulge. His thoughts are a blur now, jumping ahead in his little fantasy to think about how your tight little cunt might feel around his pulsing cock. Terzo would keep you in his lap, hands firm on your hips as he pushes in as deep as he possibly could. He imagines what you might sound like, soft little sounds spilling from your lips while you take him. And then, he would stay still and make you squirm, make you beg for him to move his hips, to take you and –

A growl catches in his throat as he makes a mess in his shorts, his hips stuttering and his free hand fisting into the covers. Terzo could never finish out his fantasies of you, always reaching the point of no return before any real action could be thought up. His chest rises and falls, giving strangled breaths as he closes his eyes. How long would he last when he finally fucks you? His lips curl into a small smile at the thought – even if he cums early he would make sure to play with you until you're a whimpering mess. He sits up in bed and lifts the scarf to examine the damage: if there are any cum stains on it. None that he could see. He hums in satisfaction, dropping the scarf back in his lap but his gaze stays fixed on it.

An idea crosses his mind.

You’re about to ask for the check when your phone lights up. A frown crosses your face as you focus on the message preview.

You left your scarf. Come get it. Now.

“What is it?” The concern in Erica’s voice snaps you out of your trance. The color has drained from your face, anxiety brewing in the pit of your stomach from his tone. You left your scarf and Terzo sounds pissed about it. Is he in one of his moods? He has hardly ever texted you nor has he asked you to come by after hours before. You suck in a deep breath and grab your phone, slipping it into your coat pocket.

“Duty calls.” You offer a weak smile, your heart pounding in your ears. “Everything’s fine. Uh, just shoot me a venmo request for what I owe for dinner, alright?” Before they get a chance to respond you’re walking away from the table, brisk steps as your breathing starts to speed up. You can’t help but feel like you’re in trouble even though you don’t know how leaving a scarf could be a punishable offense. Your brain typically jumps to the worst possible conclusion, especially when your boss is the one aggressively texting you at 7:30pm on a Friday evening.

“Hey! Wait!” Catherine is chasing after you, nearly out of breath. You blink and realize you’re already at your car door, your feet having taken you where you needed to go while your mind raced.

“I said you could shoot me a Venmo request—“

“No, no, this isn’t about that. I promised my brother I would ask you-“

“Dylan?”

“Y-yeah, he’s been asking about you. A lot. He wanted me to ask if you were interested in getting dinner with him sometime.” Catherine is nearly out of breath as she rattles the question off to you. To say you are frazzled is an understatement. You’ve had a crush on Dylan since you were a kid and even though so much time has passed since then, the two of you having grown up, you still had a soft spot for him. You wish you could take a moment to fully comprehend the fact that your childhood crush is asking you out for dinner (through his sister, which isn’t the best but can’t win ‘em all) but the gnawing stress of Terzo’s text overrides everything.

“Sure, yeah!” You are frantic, quickly getting into your car and then shouting through your window that is not rolled down. “Give him my number or whatever!”

And you’re driving away. There is no way you can think about anything right now, your thoughts running together in strings that make no sense. But there’s no way Terzo could be mad at you because you haven’t done anything wrong. Your feet slam on the breaks, throwing your car into park and opening your door in one swift movement. The rambling thoughts that had been clouding your brain disappear once you see him standing on his porch, waiting for you. You suck in a deep breath and hold it for a moment before getting out of the car, forcing yourself to mellow out. The last thing you want to do is march up there guns blazing.

He is absolutely delighted. You came when he texted, sparing no time and not even giving him a heads up you were on your way over. He must have weaseled his way deep into your head and it makes groan to himself, eyeing you in your car. Terzo wonders what else he could ask of you.

“Buonasera, toppolino! You did not answer my text.” Terzo waves to you, the scarf dangling off of his fingers. He doesn’t sound angry whatsoever which is baffling to you. You end up standing right in front of the porch steps and he is towering over you on the top step, his shoulders broad in his smoking jacket. Terzo’s face is blank but there is a spark of mischief in his eyes as he starts to twirl the scarf in front of you. “Is this a gift you left me, eh?” He’s wearing his smoking jacket again but with a dress shirt underneath that is tastefully unbuttoned to expose his dark chest hair. You’ve seen it plenty of times before — he had a knack for being shirtless in front of you but this felt far more enticing, like he had framed his chest just for you.

“I forgot it! I don't even remember wearing a scarf this morning.” You cross your arms, eyes narrowing at him. Still a goof it seems. “Was it really important to have me pick it up now? Was my scarf bothering you?” You’re teasing but there is an edge to your voice because how could you not be annoyed at the situation? He worked you up for no reason. You left dinner with friends for this. Terzo’s lips twitch into a grin and he tilts his head, eyeing you suggestively.

“Scusi? I am being a gentleman, puffetta.” He dramatically walks down the stairs until he is on the last step, still towering above you as he brings the scarf up to your neck. Your breath catches when his fingertips brush along your neck, looping the scarf around your neck and making sure to touch your tender skin more than is necessary. “I don’t want that pretty little neck of yours to get chilly.” You forget why you were frustrated with him in the first place as he touches you, your lips quivering and your skin burning from the sensation. Terzo is so handsome in this light, the dark paints around his eyes making his mismatched irises glow. He cups your jaw and tilts your head back, looking over his work of tying your scarf firmly around your neck, thumb lightly grazing along your cheek.

You look delicious to him with your lips parted and your eyes half-lidded. Terzo could easily take it too far, he thinks about gripping your neck and squeezing just to see what would happen but baby steps. You would be begging for him to touch you sooner or later. His thumb swipes at the corner of your lips before pulling his hand away from you and taking a step back up another stair, miraculously not tripping over his own feet. The two of you stand still and stare at each other before finally you adjust the scarf around your neck that he tied just a tad too.

“What does puffetta mean?” You break the silence. Terzo’s brows shoot up as he tucks his hands into his jacket pockets, giving a small shrug.

“Smurfette.”

“Smurfette?!” That has never been one of your guesses.

“A term of endearment, puffetta.” He watches you flounder deliciously. “I’ll see you Monday morning.” Terzo winks and turns on heel, walking inside his quiet mansion and turning off the porch light to leave you in darkness.

The nerve of him. The absolute gall to have you show up here only for him to dismiss you so quickly. You breathe heavy, realizing that your legs are wobbling from the way he had touched you.

You want more.

#papa emeritus iii x reader #papa emeritus iii #terzo #terzo x reader #papa emeritus x reader #ghost fanfic #ghost fanfics #ghost fanfiction

154 notes · View notes

doobea · 7 months

Text

DAYTIME SHOOTING STAR - REO MIKAGE

synopsis: Being a college student sucks. Having a crush on your best friend also sucks. Your best friend having a crush on your other best friend is . . . kinda the worst. In which, Reo is hopelessly in love with you but you’re hard crushing on Nagi.

-> MASTERLIST. -> PLAYLIST.

contents: second lead syndrome feat. fem!reader & reo, heavy narration in the beginning as per usual whoops, also in an au where bluelock never happened LOL, summer festival arc, unnamed love interest for nagi, a little wink wink at the end, no more angst i promise!! word count: 4K a/n: omg im slowly getting back into the writing groove but man life has been something else ;-; sorry for the long wait friends but here is the second to last part hehe

ALTAIR -> prev. -> next.

“You should’ve tied it first before putting it up,” Reo says before handing you a brush.

Reo’s hair always looks well-kept, unlike the disheveled mess of Nagi’s, and definitely not like the nest of your current hair. There are maybe at least eight bobby pins in your hair right now that are struggling to keep themselves in place as you manage to tangle your locks into a twisted bun. And, now looking closer into the vanity, your makeup looks almost too gaudy, and cheap.

“No shit,” You cringe at how defensive you sound as you take the brush from him. Reo flinches just slightly as your fingers make quick contact but levels himself out again soon as they disappear.

There’s hardly ever tension between you and Reo. You two have always been the closest and the only time where you did have an argument was over something stupidly mundane.

It’s been almost two weeks since his ‘proposition’ and you haven’t said or done anything in that regard. Nagi had suggested going to the summer festival to lighten the mood. He even added later on that he might invite the girl he’s been interested in. You still don’t know how to exactly feel about that. Needless to say, a group activity might lessen some of the tension if you weren’t fussing over your outfit for tonight.

Summer festivals weren’t a thing for you growing up, but you’d gotten accustomed to the lifetime exposure via social media and live streams. You’ve only attended one back in middle school but it was a small local festival, maybe the size of three blocks. The one tonight is apparently the biggest one around the area, students around campus have been raving about it since last month and have already flaunted their traditional outfits online.

You’re starting to second-guess yourself. Your hair, makeup, the color of the yukata—all of it is starting to clash together.

You start removing the bobby pins and grab a brush, tugging at your stands in frustration.

“Hey, you’re going to give yourself split ends if you do that,” Reo chastises, his tone gentle. Then a sudden realization that he has always been gentle when it comes to you. He holds out his hand again, as if he’s expecting you to return the brush.

So you do.

“Sorry,” You watch as Reo pulls up a chair behind you.

Silently, he begins to work on your hair, combing from the bottom up. He takes the time to brush out each knot without tugging at your scalp. You take this time to distract yourself by going on your phone and eyeing everyone’s outfits for tonight.

Bachira posted his yukata about an hour ago with Isagi, Chigiri, and Kunigami mingling in the background. The caption read: #readyforparisfashionweek #groupgoals. It’s his usual selfie pose, a cheeky tongue out accompanied by a peace sign, while the rest of the group seemed to be walking towards the festival grounds with popsicles in hand. It’s a cute photo and it makes you wonder if you’re able to post something similar later tonight, maybe without all the weird feelings fluttering around in your mind.

Suddenly, you feel a sharp pinch.

“Ow!”

“Sorry, sorry,” Reo pauses and sets the brush down on the vanity. Yeah, your hair is super tangled.

You look up from your phone, only to meet his eyes in the mirror and, for some reason, this makes you want to hide.

“No, it’s okay,” You reply lamely and snap your head back to your lap. To be fair, if you had done this yourself most of your hair would’ve left your scalp.

Reo picks up the brush again and, by the time you’re done scrolling through your front page, he’s combed through most of the the tangles, now producing long strokes through your locks. At some point, he abandons the brush and replaces it with his own fingers. You can feel his blunt nails and digits rake against your skin and something about how he drags from the crown of your head to the nape of your neck makes you uncomfortably warm and drowsy. Warm like when your mother would used to scold you for missing a mark on an exam and drowsy like how your body would decompress in bed after a long day out.

“You tired?” Reo gives your shoulder a few squeezes and you jolt in response.

“No,” You’re quick to deny and rub your eyes to shake away any hint of evidence. There’s no way you plan to sleep the night away. “I still need to plan the rest of my outfit.” You ball your fists into the fabric of your yukata and hear Reo breathe out from behind.

“Hey.”

Reo rolls his chair back enough to view your outfit from the vanity and puts both of his hands up in front of him, his fingers making a makeshift photo frame with you in the center of it. His lips finally crack a smile, probably a genuine one throughout this whole weird side-stepping period that you two created, and pretends to take a picture.

“I know you probably don’t care but,” and this time he actually pulls out his phone to snap a photo, ignoring the small sound of protest from you. “I think you look good the way you currently are.”

Your eyes are downcast again, and you feel the need to avoid his gaze because… because what? He’s making you nervous? Or that you feel weirdly guilty about something? You still haven’t brought up the bracelet to Reo but why would you? Maybe there’s a small part of you that’s afraid of something being there. And is that something supposed to be there to begin with?

“Thanks…” You say eventually.

The summer festival is infinitely larger in the city than the one you experienced back home, and the pictures on social media doesn’t capture its full widescale vibrancy. The main road to their university is closed off for the festival, and the usual vehicle-packed two-lane road is now flipped into a row of street food vendors and local artisans. There’s a constant drumming sound and chanting echoing in the background, growing louder and louder the further you go in since the main road leads to an old shrine up the side of a small mountain. Even with all of the traffic of couples, families, and students alike, it feels intimately smaller here compared to the countryside.

“Should we head to the taiyaki vendor? I’ve heard that the guy who makes them is a top private chef,” Nagi’s date—you think her name is Nanako—is clinging onto Nagi’s arm and pointing in the direction where you vaguely see a line slowly wrapping around the block. Guess the taiyaki man is popular.

Nagi shrugs, not in an uncaring manner, but in a way where it can be read as ‘I’m happy with whatever you decide’ type of way. It’s weird seeing him like this, especially since you’ve been by his side for the past four years.

And the girl, Nanako, she’s everything that a guy could possibly ask for. Aside from her flawless skin and cute voice, she’s been nothing but kind and generous towards you and Reo throughout the evening. The Hermes gift baskets were one thing (seriously, how did Nagi manage to find an heiress of all people?) but the fact she said she wanted to get to know you better and suggested a one-on-one brunch next weekend is another story. She’s nice, helpful, and recently found out that she’s even trilingual with the way she helped out three separate tourists on the way here.

You feel silly for thinking you could possibly be better. You can’t even bring yourself to hate her.

“Actually,” Reo speaks up, there’s a tinge of playfulness in his voice as he starts to guide you by the shoulders towards the opposite direction. “I think we’re gonna check out the steamed buns at a different stall, but we’ll meet up later for the fireworks, yeah?”

Nanako blinks while Nagi simply nods.

“Sure, let us know,” Nagi waves you two off and you fight off the urge to pinch Reo in the arm.

“What was that about?” You loudly whisper to him once out of earshot from the couple.

Reo pinches the bridge of his nose and scoffs. “I’m doing you a favor.”

“I would’ve been fine,” Your elbow makes an impact on his ribcage. “Now she’s going to think I’m weird.”

“Since when did you care so much about his date?” The word date makes your stomach physically flip on its side.

“I don’t care about his date,” You turn away from Reo, now refocusing your attention back on the festival and inhaling the savory scents from the bun vendor in front of you. There’s no line so that’s good, you’ve been saving your stomach all day for this. “I only care about making a good first impression, that’s all.”

“Then don’t force yourself to do things you’re uncomfortable with,” and you hate the face that you make in response to that because he’s looking at you with an ‘I told you so’ smirk. You wonder if Reo knows how stupid he looks with that expression, along with his stupid perfectly fitted yukata, with his dumb shiny sandals, his well-tied back hair, and—

“Two steamed buns?” The vendor calls out beside you.

“Yes, please,” Reo slips past you and hands over the man more change than needed. He’s always been generous, especially when it comes to local businesses. “One red bean and one custard.”

The two of you don’t speak again until you manage to find an empty bench by a long staircase at the base of a hill. Your hands are both stuffed with boba, giant fried squid on a stick (Reo claims it’s the best in town), a takeout container filled to the brim with takoyaki, and steamed buns. One thing you will say about the festival is that city prices are nearly triple the prices you would see back home. Seriously, it should be a crime to charge 1500 ¥ for a dozen takoyaki balls. But who are you complaining? Reo’s been paying for everything tonight anyway.

“So, how is it?” Reo watches you closely as you take a bite out of the fried squid. It’s annoying, seeing how his eyes widen with every chew and movement you make, and you could’ve sworn he held onto his damn breath as you swallowed.

But he’s right. It’s really, really good. Though, you can’t let him have all the satisfaction tonight, right?

“The ones back home might be better,” You say with a fake pout and you almost break character from the way his eyebrows contort in confusion. You take another bite, and another, before saying, “Maybe I should bring you guys there sometime. Doubt you’ll survive on farmland, though.”

“I did boy scouts when I was younger, I think I’ll be fine.” He replies, simple and overly confident in tone.

Reo? Out in the wild? Willingly as a child? Yeah, sure.

“Don’t give me that look.”

You take another bite from the squid. “What look?”

He stares blankly. “You think I’m incapable out in the woods? That I depend on civilization too much?”

“Oh,” You roll your eyes, didn’t expect him to get so touchy on the subject. Maybe Reo secretly wants to prove to you and everyone else that he can do everything without feeling the need to rely on his privileged background.

You nudge your shoulders towards the shrine on top of the wooded hill, its stone stairs dimly lit by warm lighting from the paper lanterns on each side of the steps. You don’t need to say anything to let Reo know that you’re challenging him. The ‘hide and seek’ part is implied. One thing about Reo is that he’s stubborn, so of course he’s going to say yes in order to prove a point that he might fail. But isn’t that what makes him fun to be around?

“Race you?”

He finishes his drink before standing up, clutching the rest of the leftovers in one hand as he extends out the other to you. “You’re going to hurt yourself if you race against me, dummy.”

“I can be athletic like you, too,” but you take his hand anyway. Somehow, it fits nicely against yours.

“You can say that if you win.” Reo laughs.

“Which I will, by the way.” You shoot back.

Reo gently tugs you close to his side, weaving through the crowds and towards the steep steps leading up to the shrine. He throws you a smile, one that you can’t tell if it’s filled with some truth or dramatic for the sake of being dramatic. “Little do you know, I always win.”

You hate how he’s always right.

How many times has he been right today? Probably one too many for your liking.

“Still having trouble finding me?” You hear his teasing voice in the shadows behind the trees…no—wait, maybe he’s behind the shrine instead? Ugh, it sucks how his purple yukata also blends perfectly in the night too.

“No, my eyes are just adjusting to the dark.” You reply back.

“Pfft, you said that like five minutes ago.” His voice is clear, he’s definitely near you.

You tiptoe around a few tree roots, searching behind the large bush in front of you, only to be disappointed when it’s empty. “Yeah, well, they take a while to adjust.”

God, he can be so annoying when he wants to be.

A distant roar of thunder interrupts your and Reo's banter as you continue your unsuccessful hunt. The sky darkens, and raindrops begin to fall, increasing in severity gradually before completely blurring the already dark surroundings.

“Well, this is just great,” you mumble.

Reo finally emerges from the shadows, that being a tree a few feet away, hands over his head in a last-minute attempt to keep himself dry. “Looks like we'll have to take shelter,” he says, motioning his head toward the shrine.

You both start running towards its small wooden flight of stairs, evading developing puddles and screaming as the rain soaks you to the bone.

The wooden frames and panels from the building provide some needed shelter, but the storm is relentless. The air inside is warm, humid, and damp, the scent of ancient wood fills the space. You and Reo catch your breaths, both of you overlooking the hazy festival grounds from the entrance. Unlike your situation, at least the people below have actual tents and umbrellas.

“Well, at least we're not wet anymore,” Reo says, glancing around the room.

The sound of rain hitting the roof echoes through the empty space. The dim light from the lanterns cast shadows on Reo's face, giving his features a softened appearance. You slowly find yourself eyeing the way his wet hair clings to his forehead and the way his yukata sticks to his frame.

Weird, everything today has been so fucking weird. Why are you sending your best friend goggling eyes right now when you should be feeling distraught that your crush is probably sucking his date’s face off. Actually… maybe don’t think about that.

“So, what now?” you ask, mainly rhetorically. The storm isn’t showing any signs of letting up anytime soon and you briefly spot the leftovers from earlier just outside of the shrine’s steps. You quickly rush out to grab them.

“Well,” Reo’s voice cuts through the rhythmic pounding from the rain and finds a dry corner to settle down. He pats at the empty spot next to him and closes his eyes. “Wanna talk about it?”

And this is the main thing you wanted to avoid all month.

You want to say no but, since you're such an expert in 'Reo-speak' and 'Reo-body language’ for today, you can tell with one look in his eyes that he's not taking 'no' as an answer.

"It's been difficult," You admit, allowing yourself to plop down next to him, shoulders briefly touching. “I’m sorry if things have been tense between us, I honestly didn’t know what to say or make of it.”

"I know," Reo replies, slowly as if he's hesitating to continue the conversation that he brought up.

Reo shuffles closer and eyes the large bell in front of him. “I should be the one saying sorry. That was dumb for me to even suggest that.” His teeth clenches around the sentence and he can’t keep up his usual sarcastic tone and his voice drops, sounding gentle and almost self-loathing.

He’s done an expert job at keeping a distance within the past two weeks. Only really reaching out if Nagi felt too lazy to contact you himself, but even that was at a bare minimum. There’s a part of you that wants to understand and question the imaginary meaning of your friendship, whether he meant anything by it. The idea of him actually having feelings and shifting the dynamic even further is a thought you’ve been entertaining since the start of the day.

“It wasn’t that dumb,” You attempt to eat some of the leftover takoyaki, only to realize that most of them have already fallen apart from being soaked. “Ugh—I mean I appreciate the sentiment and I guess it did work…”

“Don’t eat that,” he places a hand over yours as you attempt to go in for another bite. His hand feels oddly warm and comforting. “You’re going to get sick.”

“And you’re not always in charge of me,” though you eventually do follow his suggestion. There’s absolutely no chance for you to feel remotely satisfied from a soggy, cold meal in this predicament.

“You should at least take care of yourself.”

“Ok, I take it back, maybe you suck at distracting me.”

You end up pushing the rest of the food to the side and resting your chin on top of your tucked knees. There’s a long moment of silence you both allow to pass before your internal monologue shifts into overdrive.

“I’m—I’m an idiot too, Reo. I feel gross with myself.”

Reo remains quiet, waiting for you to continue, and you find solace in the silence. You're not sure where this conversation is heading, but it feels like a long-overdue reckoning.

"I mean, I don't even know why I feel weird about it. Nagi's a good guy, and Nanako seems great. They're happy, and that should be enough, right?" You release a heavy sigh, trying to articulate the tangled mess of emotions.

Reo shifts beside you, his gaze focused on the raindrops sliding down the shrine's entrance. "Jealousy?"

The word hangs in the air, and you hesitate before nodding. "Yeah, maybe. I shouldn't be, and I hate admitting it, but I am. It's just so stupid."

"Feelings aren't stupid," Reo says softly. "They're just... complicated. And it's okay to feel jealous. Happens to me all the time." The last bit is barely audible but you manage to pick it up.

Your eyes lazily drift to his wet frame again. Anyone who’s soaked head to toe in this muggy weather with shoes covered in a gritty mixture of dirt and tiny pebbles should look gross. His small ponytail had come undone some time ago, and the black tank top underneath him is now slightly peeking through from the faint dim lighting provided by the remaining lanterns. You’re positive that you look like a mess, and that any regular person would also look like a mess, and yet here is he looking like some kind of pulse-quickening, smoke show of a train wreck you couldn’t look away.

The sound of the next thunder rumbling fills the silence between you two.

Then, Reo calls out your name. The way he says it is completely different. His voice is deeper, your name falls through his lips rapidly and sharply. It sounds nothing like the way Nagi would say it, dragged out and elongated. You’re usually no good with picking up symbolism all too well but you’re not that dense. It doesn’t take an idiot to figure out that there’s something in Reo’s tone that makes the purposiveness of your name painfully obvious.

It comes slowly but you find yourself relishing in it when his hand reaches forward, brushing away some of the wet strands sticking around your face. “You shouldn’t have to compare yourself to anyone,” Reo tucks a few locks behind your ear before pulling away.

“Sometimes it’s difficult not to,” you swallow the growing knot down your throat and sink further against the ground.

“Hey, look at me for a second,” Reo calls out.

He caresses your face once more, this time with a different intention. His palm rests heavily on your cheek and Reo tilts your chin upwards. His eyes pierce directly into yours and… you can’t tear yourself away. The scarce lighting is able to make out the soft redness on his face and you find yourself pressing your face against his touch again.

Your arms hesitantly entangle themselves around his neck, watching closely as his Adam’s apple bobs at your slightest movements. You also take this moment to realize that he smells really good. Leather, cardamom, and hints of vanilla. It’s some expensive brand by Tom Ford, a cologne you remembered him receiving from his parents during his high school graduation party. The rain and muggy summer air only amplified the scent but you didn’t mind it.

Reo tangles his fingers into your hair and leans in, pressing his lips to the temple of your head. He breathes out of your name and you can feel his body shift, almost rocking side to side. You note that Reo always does that when he’s extremely nervous.

At some point, his lips move down and hover over yours, barely millimeters apart. You try not to think too much of your own painfully disheveled state, or the fact that you’re still fucking confused about what’s happening right now. Is anything of this supposed to be okay?

Fuck it.

Your arms tug Reo’s head forward enough to close the gap and your lips meet in the same kind of fast-forward, slow-motion feeling that you always see in those cheesy romance movies growing up. Reo’s lips feel far smoother and fuller than it has any right to be and you’re fairly certain that the faint citrus taste is from the chapstick he always carries. You’re becoming hyperaware of everything going on — from the heavy breathing from both ends of the party, to his silky, damp hair tickling your hands, down to the rapid pulse hammering against your chest and neck.

A quiet noise of approval spills from you and Reo pulls you closer, his hands now find residency around your waist and back to prevent you from stumbling over, almost to remind you that he’s your anchor.

Eventually, you finally break for some air.

As you gasp for breath, Reo leans his forehead against yours, both of you breathing heavily in the humid air of the shrine. You can see the reflection of his eyes, dark and intense, studying your face as if searching for answers.

Reo pulls back slightly, his hand still resting around. "I like you. I like you for the past few years now and I don’t want to hide that anymore.”

The fact that your body is still halfway pulled into his lap melts away every ounce of apprehension from your bones. This is not a dream. This is very much real.

For a brief moment, you wonder if it’s worth bringing up questions of when and why. Your background doesn’t exactly fit into the Mikage’s standards of high luxury and... again, is this even okay?

Just when you’re starting to process the weight of Reo’s words, the sliding doors fly open and an all too familiar voice cuts through the air.

Nagi appears at the entrance, his eyes widening as he takes in the scene. “Am I interrupting something?”

TAGLIST - OPEN

@celestair @kitorin @popponn @yoisami @anurst @katsukiiishoe @yuzurins @vitaniangel-blog @kunikame @miwafei @astruoise @faeroow @wooasecret @limerence-lu @jaynawayna @iloveblogging2 @futuristicxie @rinlvr @au-ghosttype @wavetokio @yuusami @phtogravi @funnibunneh @idontevenknow129

#blue lock #bllk #blue lock imagines #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #doobea writing #reo mikage x reader #reo mikage #DAYTIME SHOOTING STAR - REO MIKAGE #bllk reo #reo x reader #mikage reo x reader #blue lock x you #blue lock x female reader #why did this take me weeks hmm #reo *shakes head*

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moonystoes · 26 days

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Prom date - Elisa De Almeida x reader (highschool students) pt.3

Summary: It's the day you have been waiting for, except you didn't spend it with your date.

Warning: slight homophobia and bullying (it's paul and his minions smh), too much yap guys im sorry, no kissing nothing it's KILLING ME TOO OKAY? unrealistic corny shit but they're 14 in 2012.

wc: 7.799k

a/n: hey y'all... did you miss me? i want to apologize for this chapter because it's yap and a mess to be honest. but it has been a while since the last time i wrote. i also want to say sorry for the people that were waiting...again, i'm still pretty new to writing, and if you have any advice please help me out!!

Here: part 1 part 2

Wednesday, 19th of december 2012

You were always excited about the idea of prom. The makeup, the dress, the dance, the romantic glances, and obviously the kiss that would be your first. But now the only thing that's on your mind was Elisa.

In these two days, Elisa has been acting slightly differently around you than before. She would give you a small nod of acknowledgement with a small smile or the usual frown. Yet, it still seemed like there was a barrier between the both of you, and talking to each other still felt impossible.

You stared at your reflection in the mirror making sure your ‘picture-smile’ looks good. Sam was next to you, holding a large pink make-up palette with an eyeshadow brush in her other hand.

You hated sleeping in class for one reason, and it's your silly mouth. Whenever you wake up you end up saying something stupid. And based on the way Elisa was looking at you, you knew you had said something dumb at the nurse office that day.

You had tried everything in your power to remember what you said, but nothing had worked.

“Girl it's not that serious, you're acting as if you confessed your love or something.” Sam groaned out, waving the pink powdered brush around. Your eyes widened and turned to look at her, “Sam! Don't say that, she's a girl!”

“So?” She shrugged, dabbing a glittery shade on your eyelids.

“So? You know so. Girls shouldn't like girls like that, don't be stupid.” You frowned, closing your eyes so she can work on your eyelids again.

“Why not? I don’t give a shit.” Sam looked away from your eyelids and stepped away to look at you with a confused glance. Both of you have never discussed anything like this, but she still felt offended thinking that you thought she was against it.

Silence filled the room, your hands playing around with the cheap acrylic nails you glued on. “Really?” You whispered.

“Pfft, yeah. Who cares? We're in highschool now. At least we're not doing drugs.” She laughed. She started tapping a different shade to your eyes, while humming to the song playing on her phone.

“Well, the government does.” You shrugged, your silky straightened hair moving around your shoulder. You felt Sam stop tapping your eyes before she asks, “the government does what?”

“Care. Same sex marriage isn't allowed, that's what I meant.”

“Wait, you searched up about that?” Sam accused you as she stepped away again from your face to glance at you. You opened your eyes in shock as you moved the hair away from your face, “what! No…I just assumed that.”

Sam's face dropped as she gave you a disappointed glance, but your embarrassment made you look down to your sweatpants. You didn't want to admit to Sam that you've searched about it, and you also would kill yourself if she finds out about the Quora comment you made.

Sam has already suspected something weird about you this whole school semester, and at first she thought it was about how stressful school is. But she noticed that whenever she talks about Elisa to you, you'd look away and try to make the conversations shorter. What made her realize what's going on is whenever Elisa walks past you, you'd look at her hoping for some reaction. A smile, a nod, even just a glance, you've always hoped Elisa would acknowledge you.

It was when the both of you were sitting at lunch with your two other friends when you brought up her nonchalant responses to you. Lucia and Suzan looked at you confusingly, responding with a ‘she jokes and is really friendly to me’.

Usually you wouldn't care, saying that it's not an obligation to like every person in school and you'd respect her friendships. But when it came to Elisa, you would complain about it everyday to her.

She hoped that you'd speak to her about your newfound crush on Elisa, but you'd always swerve and act dumb whenever she brings Elisa up. However, she understands it's very difficult to come out, especially when you still don't even know what you are in the first place.

So she shrugged and decided to apply blush around your cheeks. After that, you stood and wore your floral dress, avoiding Sam's eyes.

Sam has been talking a little too much, about her new favorite show, the side character she's obsessing over, her new favorite snack, and many things she started blabbering about. When Sam talks too much, it means she's either hiding something from you or is trying to distract you. Both conclusions are awful, so you shook her off and started wearing your jewelry.

Sam's loud mouth slowed down as you stared at your complete reflection. She pulled your hand to sit on the bed before you left to the venue. She held into it and said, “If Paul doesn't treat you well, it doesn't matter okay? You're there to experience your first prom, not your first date with Paul.”

You looked down at your intertwined hands and sighed, feeling like she knew something you don’t. Did Paul say he would ditch me? Does she know about that? She continued, “Besides, you look too good. If he treats you badly, you can literally get anyone else.”

You huffed and looked away from her, “Yeah like who?”

“Every guy. Literally,” She said in a duh tone. She stayed quiet for a second before adding, “probably Elisa too if what they say is true.”

You looked up to look at Sam, “no way, I'm not her type.”

“And how would you know her type?”

You stayed silent and awkwardly shrugged as you looked down. “Amy's probably her type, just like everyone else.”

Sam sighed loudly and wrapped her left arm around your shoulder, “I wish you can see yourself the way these boys do. You're smart, gorgeous, kind, hardworking, and so many more. Amy is cute, yeah… but she's not the whole package.”

You bit your lip trying to suppress your smile,and leaned into her touch. “Thanks, I'll let you know what happens when I come back.”

Sam nodded and stood up, realizing that you're heading out right now. “Is he coming now?”

You turned and looked at her, “who?”

Sam's stomach sank when she realized the situation, she sighed loudly, “oh my God are you actually telling me he's not even taking you there.”

Giving her a forced smile, you stood up and wore your heels. “I don't care about him at this point. I feel like…my crush on him was never real you know. Like… I was attached to the hope of us being close like how we were when we were kids, I wasn't actually hoping for a relationship with him,” you exhaled calmly, “I just want to experience prom, I don't care about the romance part, especially not with him anymore.”

Sam was glad that you were officially over Paul. She knew he wouldn't be a great partner and she wanted what's best for you. But she knew that there was something else. Because for you to get over someone, you'd have to be distracted enough to forget about them. That's how you are.

Sam walked you to the car outside, your parents both standing with a camera to take pictures. You were glad they didn't know about American prom traditions, because it is embarrassing how Paul isn't here to take pictures with you as well as the corsage and flowers.

After the awkward posing, your father got into the car and dropped you off at the huge venue the school rented for today. As you stepped out of the car, fear started brewing in you. You were late because of the long lectures from your parents so the building was filling up already and you were the type of person who would come first to everything.

You hoped you would not find Paul as you took a deep breath and entered the poorly lit room. It was filled with blue decorations, blue foil curtains around the walls and entrance, blue balloons, blue flowers, blue ceilings, everything was either blue or white except the yellow lamps that created a ‘romantic’ atmosphere.

“Hey you're here!” A sudden noise came from behind you, feeling a hand on your shoulder.

You turned immediately, finding Paul wearing a classic white and black suit and a red tie. You gave him a fake smile and replied, “yeah I just came here, I hope you're not mad that I'm a bit late.”

Paul gave you a bright smile, the one that makes your anger and disappointment in him slightly fade away, “don't worry, I didn't even notice you weren't with me anyways!”

He grabbed your elbow and dragged you to the tables not realizing the face drop in your face. You didn't know if you should feel offended or just cry, your stomach dropping as you felt slightly sick.

“Hey guys, my date is here.” He pointed at you, introducing you to his friend group. You've known them, they were all in your class and you've talked to them previously.

Adam glanced at you and waved, “you didn't tell us it's y/n!” You looked away from them, trying to hold in your frustration and disappointment. He called you his date and didn't bother to introduce you by your name, but it's okay because you ARE his date. He just called you what you are… you can't get mad at that.

But he didn't even tell them it was you? So he hid the fact he asked you out for the past 2 weeks? You remained facing away from them, hugging your bare arms into yourself as you hoped you could find someone to run and talk to. Adam, Paul and his friends were chatting about video games and football. A part of you wanted to join the football conversation, but you knew they're going to mock you because you're a girl.

So you pulled out your phone and texted Sam a quick update message letting her know that Paul was disappointing just like how the both of you were expecting. You turned it off when you heard Yousef talk about Elisa.

“I can't believe Elisa actually came.” You looked at Yousef, realizing he was facing the food and drinks table. You turned immediately to find where she was. After moments of looking around, you found her standing around the drinks area laughing at something Marie said, her hair neatly styled to the side. You have noticed that Elisa's hair is always styled well, but this time it looks like she took longer to perfect her look. She was wearing the usual black and white suit, except with a pink tie.

You wondered what Marie had said to make her laugh that hard, and you looked around her to check if she had a date. You knew Fleur was recovering from her injury, but what if she brought someone else?

Your gaze was interrupted when you heard Paul mutter something, “No matter how much she dresses like us, she can never be us,” You turned to look at him in surprise, “imagine being a lesbian and trying to dress like us yet you get no dates.”

Your shock turned into anger, “Paul, what the fuck!” You couldn't believe he is your date, let alone your best friend as a kid.

The guys all laughed at what he said and how you reacted, Paul looked at you in shame and he tried to pull you away from the group.

“No let go of me! You can't just say stuff like that, it's rude.” You angrily pushed his hand away from your wrist. Out of all the things Paul did, this was the worst of them. Because he was not hurting you, he was hurting Elisa. Elisa the sweet girl that did nothing wrong to him.

“Y/n come on she can't hear us it's okay.” He pulled you closer as he whispered to you. His soft brown eyes looking at you to let you know how sincere he was. You felt disheartened, this was the guy you had a crush on. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down to not cause a scene. You can't behave this way for Elisa, they'll know. Wait…they'll know what? You glanced at Elisa to make sure she didn't hear him, now she's standing alone as Marie and Adam were dancing to the upbeat music playing.

“So just because she can't hear you, it technically means you didn't say it? Paul, you still said it!” You whisper-shouted at him. You exhaled slowly as the anger faded into shame. Shame in thinking he was sweet and precious. Shame in still expecting more from him no matter how much he ignored you.

“What can prove existence y/n? It's for you to have proof of something or remember it. No one can prove what I said to Elise, and she didn't witness it. You know what this means?” You gaped at him in surprise, is he turning this situation into a philosophical study? “What I said doesn't exist in Elise's world. She doesn't know about it, okay?” he held your hand and pulled you into him, leaving his right arm around your shoulder.

Your insides churned as you felt disappointed, not in Paul this time, but in yourself for not letting go of him and defending Elisa. You didn't even have the energy to correct him for saying the wrong name. For now, you're thinking of a plan to stay away from him.

The boys started talking about other stupid topics as Paul's arm remained on you. Instead of listening to them, you focused on Élisa's back as she was standing a few meters away from you. From this angle, it looked like Elisa had a new haircut for today. Her shaved sides looked cleaner, the suit she was wearing was fitting her shoulders so well as if she got it tailored. You glanced back to Paul when you realized you're putting too much focus on her.

You quickly took off Paul’s hand off your shoulder, telling him that you’re going to the bathroom. Your tense muscles started to calm down when you had finally escaped him and his annoying friends. Walking in the dark hallway to somewhere quieter, you decided to stop by the drinking area and get yourself cold water to calm yourself but you were interrupted by someone.

“I thought you were here with Paul?” You turned to the voice and found Elisa pouring herself a sprite, her first two buttons of her shirt were open and the light pink tie was loose. You froze in place as you looked at her this way, the orange hues from the lights hit her left face making her sharp jawline pop and her prominent nose stand out. You sighed quietly as your hands started to shiver, but you couldn’t blame the cold for this one. You know exactly what this is now.

“I don’t care about him.” You gulped the water and threw the paper cup in the trash.

“Did he hurt you?” She stepped closer to you as the loud music was making it difficult for her to hear you. But your flustered state made you step back, “no, he just said something rude about someone I care about…”

Elisa’s face changed from frustration to confusion, “who?”

You felt like the first day of school all over again, the unnecessary nervousness consuming you as you folded your arms against your chest, “why do you care?” you snorted and looked at the dancing couples at the new slow music playing.

Elisa figured out that you probably didn't even want to be around her, she was the one that approached you and started this conversation anyways. But why wouldn't you say who Paul was talking about? She has been nicer to you, right? Are you guys friends now?

Elisa froze as she thought back to how she has been treating you since that nurse encounter two days ago. She realized that she was just dramatic for thinking that the way you viewed her changed, a small smile and a nod doesn't make you guys friends. Besides, she was the only one that had reacted differently. Yours were the same, glancing away and looking down.

“You're right, I don't care.” She frustratingly mumbled, turning away from the table and you and pretending to care about the cringey gross couples dancing (she wishes she could have a girl and dance like that).

Your chest ached at the thought that she doesn't care, but you exhaled a breath you were holding when you realized she stopped asking who it was. You also didn't understand why you worded it that way in the first place. Why did you say that you cared about her? You wondered how she'd react if she knew about what happened, and really hoped she wouldn't find out about your new attraction.

You thought back to what Sam said, is it not that bad and you were being dramatic? Your parents were never religious, but they still never showed any sort of awareness about gay people. You thought about how your parents would react if you brought Elisa as your girl, and just the thought of her being yours made you smile.

You needed to accept it, but you didn't know how. So you glanced back at elisa now that you have admitted it to yourself, that you like elisa. Her face was still facing the couples, her hand holding the filled glass as her other hand was folded almost like yours.

“Why pink?”, you stuttered out, hoping to hear Elisa's voice again even if she was glaring from frustration.

“Hmm?” Elisa turned back to look at you with confusion and bent down to hear you. Now that the both of you are standing next to each other, she can see your face clearly and the effort you made for today. The soft pink makeup around your eyelids, the red pouty lips, the straightened hair, and the tight-fitted dress that made her eyes struggle to not look down. And all of this made her heart tighten, because all of this was for Paul. Not for her, for a guy that is a piece of shit and treats you awfully when she can treat you better.

Elisa kept in mind that when she said she can treat you better, she didn't mean it literally. She doesn't like you. In fact, she can't stand you no matter how many sweet interactions you can get into, you'll always be grossed out by her…or maybe you just can't stand to be around her for some reason (she has one in mind). She just said that theoretically, if Elisa had a girl, she would’ve treated her way better than that stupid guy.

“The tie,” you shakenly point at her tie as you avoided eye contact, “why the color pink?” Your mind started filling up with many thoughts, on why you even thought of this question, or what if she thinks you were mocking her outfit? You could’ve said anything else to start a conversation. You were never like this, you were socially bubbly and knew exactly what to say in situations. Why are you suddenly behaving this awkwardly?

It seemed as if Elisa had forgotten what she was wearing the way she looked down to look at the tie you were talking about. She stood up straighter and thought for a second. Normally Elisa would feel somewhat offended by the question, but she knew you meant no harm in asking and you looked like you were just curious, “to show people that at the end of the day I am still a girl.”

You stayed silent for a moment, confused by the response she just gave you, “but… pink is just a color I mean… how does that even, you know what? Nevermind.” You cringed out at the way you spoke to her. You should’ve just stayed quiet, especially by the way Elisa is side-eyeing you right now.

She cracked a smile when she saw your panic, “I know, I’m just kidding,” She turned around, now her front is facing the table edge on your right. She rested her hands on the edge as she leaned closer to you, making you lean back to the point where your butt is almost on top of the table. “I actually bought this awhile ago when I thought Fleur was coming with me before she injured herself.”

“Oh,” you looked down at her hands gripping the edge of the table, “so I’m assuming Fleur was meant to wear pink, right?”

She nodded, but before she responded you screeched out when you realized the music changed, “Woah, not this song!” She looked at you confusedly as you jumped off the table and looked around you embarrassed, “sorry I don’t even know why I did that. This is my favorite song of all time and I kinda got excited.”

Elisa laughed awkwardly, looking around the same direction as you to see what you’re looking for. But her eyes froze when she noticed it was Paul, and he was also looking around possibly for you. You knew Paul was looking for you, because no matter how many things he forgot about you, your love for this song is unforgettable.

You turned your glance to Elisa, realizing she’s also looking at Paul, “hey, I don’t want him to see me…he’ll probably try and get me to dance with him but I can’t even stand him after what he did today.”

“Umm… So do you want me to cover you or what?” she scrunched her face in confusion as she opened her suit jacket in a way to try and hide you from anyone behind her, including paul.

You were stunned for a moment, gaping at her before bursting out from laughter. For a second, you forgot about the fact you were trying to hide from Paul as you saw Elisa's pink flushed cheeks seeing you laughing at her awfully failed attempt. But you were thankful nonetheless, “I don't think this would cover me completely but thank you.”

She slowly returned the jacket back around her waist, buttoning the first button and turning around to check for Paul again. Elisa knew her face was probably red and burning, but in her defense, what was she supposed to do? She tried not to face you until her face cools down a bit so she tried to look for ‘Voldemort’ again. When she saw him, she smiled. Paul had stopped looking around and concluded that you probably was still in the bathroom. So now Elisa knew that Paul won't have to treat you like shit, “damn how much do you like this song that he even noticed you were gone?”

“Um… I used to sing it all the time back when we used to hang out together. The obsession was intense.” You suddenly felt so pathetic for your crazy obsession, but when you looked up to see Elisa, she had a fond smile.

“Yeah, I get it. I had a crazy obsession with one video game to the point where Fleur and Marie avoided me because I kept talking about it.”

You glanced back and saw Paul talking to Amy. And right now, you were glad that he was talking to her. Because you can just spend your time talking with Elisa and he won't even think about you.

“If I was really drunk and no one was around, I would be dancing right now.” You mumbled, frowning as you were humming the song. Elisa giggled at your comment, she took a step to the dark hallway and pointed to the place next to her.

“No one is going to look here.” Elisa's voice came out way more unsteady than she had expected. It's not like she's asking you to dance with her, she just wanted you to feel comfortable and enjoy prom. And it's your favorite song, anyone would want to dance to their favorite song without judgment, right?

You sighed as you looked down to cover your blushing face. Although your face doesn't usually turn red, it does show somehow that you're ‘blushing’... well, that's what Sam says when you do anyways. Is Elisa asking to dance with you? There is no way that's what she meant, you had just admitted your crush on her to yourself and now she wants to dance with you, is this a dream?

Besides, she doesn't like you. Her little nods and glances mean nothing. What if she talks bad about you to her friends, maybe that's why she glances at you… to find something to talk about. But as you looked up to Elisa, her face contorted to a stressful frown and you had just realized that she probably thinks that you're rejecting her.

“Okay,” you gave her a small smile as you walked towards her to the unlit hallway. Elisa gave you the same soft smile, her cheeks turning pink. In her head, a million thoughts are running through her head. Is she about to have a girl dancing with her like the couples she just called gross and cringey? Were you actually going to dance with a girl? Elisa thought you were against that, she thought you wouldn’t even accept the idea of being around her.

But right as you stepped near her, the music abruptly stopped making the both of you groan and slack your shoulders. “Are you serious? I didn't even get to enjoy the best part.” You talked under your breath as you awkwardly stepped away from Elisa, realizing you were getting a bit too close to her.

Elisa was frustrated as much as you. She actually didn't give a damn about the song, but the thought of her dancing with you in your cute dress and bright smile made her pray that the song would be playing for a whole hour if possible. But she had to remind herself that she didn't necessarily want to dance with you specifically, she just wanted a girl in her arms, any girl. Or maybe that's one way of trying to convince herself.

A loud voice from the speakers echoed through the venue, “hey everyone, I am Michael and sorry to interrupt your dance, but we will reveal prom king and prom queen now. You were able to vote for the contestants for the whole past month. And now, we have the list. For prom kings, we have me, Paul Badosa, and Adam Nuñes. For prom queens, we have y/n l/n, Amy Moreau, and Jasmine Ali,” You turned to look at Elisa with a look of distress. If Paul and you win, you would have to dance in front of everyone. You didn’t want to be around Paul, and just the thought of his hands around your waist gave you goosebumps…and not the good kind. “Drum roll please… the winners are Paul Badosa and y/n l/n, congratulations! And please come to the front for the crown and the dance.”

Elisa was praying for you not to win it when she heard Paul's name. But now she realized that you need help escaping this place before they try to look for you. She turned to look at your anxious face and tapped your bare shoulder, pointing to the small neon ‘exit’ sign on the end of the pitch black hallway. You gratefully nodded and walked to that door, knowing that if you decided to run you would either trip or your heels would make too much noise. You can hear the students calling out your name and looking for you, but you chose to ignore it. You didn’t want to dance with Paul, everything would be uncomfortable.

Once you delicately and slowly opened the door, you turned around to thank Elisa. But you didn’t expect her to be this close, your face almost bumping into her chest. You stumbled backwards from the shock, and Elisa wrapped her arm around your waist before you dropped. From the sudden surprise and fear of falling, you wrapped your arms around Elisa's shoulder, trying to find balance on your uncomfortable heels.

For a moment, the both of you froze clinging into each other. Elisa slowly stepped forward, making sure the both of you are completely outside so the students don't find you… especially in this sort of position with her. You didn't want to let go of her so you pretended to struggle with your heels. Embarrassment started filling Elisa when she could feel her heartbeat speeding up and she closed her eyes begging that you can't feel it against your chest.

You were the first to let go; you were afraid if she noticed something different with the way you were behaving or if she was uncomfortable with the way you were clinging onto her. Elisa's focus was nowhere near you, she was trying to calm her gay heart. Obviously, she had hugged girls before. But it was you, in a cute dress, in a party, clinging into her… that's different.

The both of you were avoiding each other's eyes while trying to calm down, you looked at the door behind Elisa to make sure it's closed and decided to ask, “why didn't you stay? It's prom and you should enjoy it.”

“And you're going home alone? You don't even have a ride and it's dark outside, it's not right.”

You sighed gratefully, pulling out your phone to look at how far is the venue from your house. Surprisingly, it was just a 20 minute walk. And although this may seem too far away, you knew it wouldn't be that bad.

You refused to call your parents to pick you up from here. You didn't want them to know that Paul had basically ditched you and humiliated you and Elisa around his friends. You felt shame knowing what happened, even if it wasn't your fault. It's embarrassing to not celebrate prom and leave early… especially when you were the ‘popular’ student in class.

“It's okay Elisa, the venue isn't far off from my house.” You opened Google maps for you to follow the steps.

“Y/n it's still 8 at night, why don't you contact your dad to take you the same way he dropped you off?” Elisa blurted out. She was worried about you walking alone, another reason to hate on the inconsiderate idiot Paul. She also hoped that you didn't notice that she knew how you came to the venue, not wanting to admit to you that she was eyeing all the way from the outside when you came through the open entrance.

You stayed quiet for a moment, not wanting her to know the reason why you would rather walk in heels for 20 minutes rather than contacting your parents. You groaned, “I just don't want them to know I left early, they're going to ask me all about it.”

From your frustrated tone, Elisa understood exactly why. She stepped forward and pointed to the sidewalk, hoping you would lead the way to your house.

“Elisa, I'm sorry.” Your features suddenly contracted into a pout, remembering how stubborn Elisa is and how she would never accept a ‘no’ response.

“Y/n, it's okay. It's not like I was enjoying looking at couples dancing and wishing I was in one,” She exhales, “Besides, the only reason why I came here is because I promised Fleur.”

She stepped forward again, turning around to face you and waving her arm over. Elisa felt that she may have been sounding desperate, but it's okay right? It's not like you were uncomfortable with her walking you home. You seem more relaxed around her, and maybe her assumptions about you were false. She saw the soft grateful smile on your face as you followed her, holding up your phone to follow the map.

It was a blissful silence between you guys for a short while. Both secretly enjoy each other's company while also panicking on what to say. You bit into your lip as you prayed that you'd stop shaking from the chilly weather, goosebumps all over your arms. It's the south of France in December, and you're just wearing a dress.

Elisa turned to look at your phone to see where the both of you should go after the turn, but she noticed your fingers shivering as you were grasping your phone. Her body stiffened, realizing that it’s her duty now to protect you from the cold. She wanted to impress you, but she also wanted to take care of you, suddenly feeling protective of you and your health. Elisa’s fingers slowly unbuttoned her suit jacket and she slowed down from walking to remove it.

Elisa wasn’t aware that you were also glancing at her. The moonlight made her look like she came from an anime. Because there is not a single actress that can portray the angelic scenery in front of you. Your eyes traced her neck and collarbone from your view, and you didn’t notice Elisa had slowed down until it started to become difficult for you to shamelessly stare at her without turning your neck.

When Elisa stopped, you copied her and decided to wait for her. Until you realized that she had removed her jacket and is handing it to you. Elisa was breathing heavily, her lips between her teeth as she waited for you to take it. She was afraid that you would see this gesture as ‘weird’. But when she saw you grin at her as your hand accepted the jacket, her shoulders loosened up and she confidently walked again. Elisa prayed that you can’t see the panic in the way she’s walking, she wanted you to view her as calm and collected.

But you weren’t even thinking of the way she was standing or walking right now, you were a blushing mess at the sweet action. You followed her to thank her, “thanks, but you probably need it more than me.” You were still holding onto it, refusing to wear it.

“No, it’s okay! I’m wearing two layers beneath this,” she shook her head as she pointed at her dress shirt, “I promise I came prepared.”

You grinned brightly, lifting the large jacket and wearing it. The sleeves were reaching your fingertips, and the edge of the jacket had reached even below your butt. You buttoned all three of the buttons, accepting anything that can keep you warm in the winter wind.

Elisa was eyeing you from the corner of her eyes. She tried to mask the pink of her cheeks when she saw how big the jacket looked on you. She was aware that she is taller than most girls, but it’s difficult for her to notice that when she is lanky and skinny. Seeing you swim in her jacket made her smile in pride, and also because she thought you looked adorable that way, in her jacket under the streetlight.

“Wow… so you were planning to give your jacket to another girl, I see.” You sarcastically accused her as you nudged her shoulder. She bit her lip as she looked away, “no, that's not what I meant! I just…it was cold so-”

“I know, I'm joking.” You giggled when you saw her stammer. She nodded at what you said and stayed quiet, stuffing her clammy hands into her pockets.

You glanced back at the screen of your phone, realizing there is only a minute left before you reach home. You glanced back to Élisa and asked, “Hey, I want to thank you for all of this. Even when you said you didn't even want to stay there, I still feel rude dragging you out,” You smiled at her, hoping that she'd accept the offer you'll make, “Do you want to come over and have dinner with me?... and my family of course they'd be grateful to meet the person that walked me home.”

Elisa's eyes widened at the thought of your parents seeing her. She immediately declined, “no it's all okay actually, thanks.” She gave you a respectful smile, hoping you wouldn't take offense in her refusal. But she can see the embarrassment and the way your lips frowned, and now guilt is filling her heart. She didn't mean to make you sad, she was just worried about how your parents would react when they see her.

You shrugged her response off, hoping she can't read the disappointment in your face. Your parents taught you that if someone helped you, you have to offer them something back in gratitude. Whether it's candy, dinner, gifts, etc. So for Elisa to leave prom and walk you home, you felt the need to give her something back.

“This is my house, it's pretty small but I'm an only child so…” you pointed at the house when you spotted it as you turned to Elisa, “I want to give you something since you aren't coming in. Can you wait?”

Elisa nodded eagerly as a response. She felt like she couldn't breathe this whole walk with you, and she knew she needed a small break to recover from what happened the whole day. She saw you step inside the house wearing her jacket, she screeched when she realized your family will see you with it, “wait!”

But you had already stepped inside and you found both of your parents in the dining room eating dinner. They saw you and gave you a smile, “Hey, how was it?”

“Good. Mama, where did you put those fancy chocolates?”

Your father didn't say anything, he was only staring at the oversized suit jacket you were wearing.

“Ohhh, is it for Paul?” Your mom winked at you, her left hand pointing at the kitchen cabinet.

You sighed in frustration, not knowing what to say. If you said no, they'll ask who. And Elisa clearly doesn't want your parents to know her, and you also don't want your parents to question everything that happened with Paul.

So you didn't respond and grabbed the box of candy. But when your hands reached out for it, you noticed the suit jacket. Shit! Your parents would definitely question everything because of this.

You ran quickly outside, opening the door and shutting it behind you.

While you were away, Elisa was scanning your house out of curiosity. When she looked up to the lit bedroom upstairs, she noticed a shadow staring outside directly at her. She nearly jumped from it, closing her eyes in embarrassment. But who would that shadow be? She saw a glimpse of your parents when you opened the door, and you are an only child.

She took a deep breath and slowly looked up again, but the shadow wasn't there anymore. As she tried to take a step forward to see it from another angle, you opened the door.

She flinched and looked back at you, “oh, hi! Hi again…”

You looked at her strangely and smiled, “I didn't want you to go home with nothing, thank you.” You handed her the box of chocolate.

Elisa looked at the box, it was her favorite holiday chocolate. She isn't allowed to eat them at all because they were expensive and prestigious, only for special occasions.

“Oh wow, are you sure?” She hesitantly held out her hands to take it.

“Yes, and also this.” You passed the box to her and removed her jacket, handing it to her too.

Elisa was stunned for a moment, the warm outdoor lamp your house had made the scene in front of her look straight from a movie. The way your hair danced around your shoulders, the way you were removing her jacket. She quietly accepted it, opening her mouth to say something but nothing came out.

You turned around to open your door, giving her a small wave and closed it behind you. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, hoping your parents won't barge in and ask you a million questions. When they didn't, you sneakily walked on the stairs to your room, but what you saw made you scream.

“WHAT THE FUCK SAM!” You almost tripped down the stairs from your heels. Sam was on the top of the stairs with a sly smirk, she had seen the whole encounter of you and Elisa. She was surprised to see you hand out those chocolates, because you refused to give her a piece of them from how special they are to you. So why did you give them to Elisa? She also saw the jacket exchange, and the way Elisa was standing there admiring you.

You took a deep breath, turning around to glance at your parents to see if they heard you. Your dad gave you a disappointed glance, and your mom showed you a hand gesture that means ‘wait’ (which means you're basically fucked but she can't do anything since your friend was there).

Sam pulled your arm and dragged you to your room, she shut the door with the key and jumped on your bed, “how was prom with Paul?”

You awkwardly walked towards your closet, pulling out a pajama set as you thought of a way to respond, “um… did you not see my message?”

“Oh I saw it,” she replied, “I was just wondering if he redeemed himself at the end? I heard that you won prom queen, but I don't see you with the tiara.”

You turned to look at her, “can you leave so I can change?”

She nodded and left the room. She was waiting for you to say what happened, she still didn't understand how you came home with Elisa while also wearing her jacket. She hoped you'd be honest and tell her the truth. Sam had gotten 3 calls from Paul asking where you went, he said he was embarrassed that you had ditched him and how he had to receive the crown alone. He also asked where were you, but she didn't have an answer to that, she didn't know either. And when she tried to call and text, it seemed as though you were ignoring her (now she thinks you were too busy with Elisa).

You opened the door to your room as your left hand was wiping the makeup on your face, “I'm too tired to speak, but I basically ran away ‘cuz I didn't want to be around Paul.”

“And who dropped you home? Did you get a ride?” Sam was pretending as if she didn't see you outside, and you glanced at her weirdly. Did she see us? Would Elisa be okay if Sam knew about this? It was nothing, right? She was just being a kind person.

“No, I didn't get any rides.” You responded, the third makeup wipe is now stained black from the mascara.

“Yeah no ride because she doesn't have a dick.” She snorted as she snacked on the barbecue flavored chips.

Your hands stopped rubbing your eyes as you turned to look at her with an open mouth, “Sam! What even was that?”

“Why didn't you tell me that you and Elisa ran away together? I thought we were besties.” Sam had tried so hard to not be hurt by this, but the both of you were friends for a while. And she thought you liked her by now to tell her everything. She understood why you wouldn't tell her about your crush, but why not tell her about this? Aren't you both friends?

“Sam, you are my best friend… I was just worried you'd see it differently.” You exhaled as you sat down next to her, holding her hand now that you've cleaned your face.

“See it like what?” She knew what you meant, but she needed you to say it out loud, maybe then it will be easier for you to speak about your feelings out loud.

“Sam… you brought up me looking pretty enough to attract Elisa, and I thought that maybe you would make jokes when you find out that she walked me home.” You looked down at your bare feet, they were sore from all the walking you've done tonight and you just need a rest.

“Okay… I'm sorry I did make jokes, but I just wanna know what happened for you to even gift her those chocolates!”

You groaned loudly, covering your face with a nearby pillow, “She left prom to walk me home! That's the least I could've done.”

She laid in your bed, removing the covers to get cozy. “And she gave you her jacket, she's really sweet you know? She's just a little awkward around you.” She can feel herself dozing off as she mumbled.

“Well, that's the reason why I don't think she likes me…But Sam, today I was really happy,” You smiled as you thought about what happened today, “She did everything she can to make me feel safe and comfortable.”

You laid next to Sam and waited for her response, but you could hear her light snores and she turned around to pull you into her, just how the both of you usually cuddle in sleepovers.

You couldn't sleep, just smiling at what happened with Elisa.

“Shit! Did she walk home alone?!” You shrieked as you stood up and took your phone from the bedside table, but you froze when you realized that you didn't have any of Elisa's socials. You went to Facebook and searched up her name. You stumbled on around 15 accounts until you found an account with a username ‘delameida5elel’ and the picture was Elisa holding a football with Fleur and Marie. You pressed on it and found a recent post,

Prom would've been better if I knew how to socialize around pretty girls :((

You froze, reading the sentence over and over to check if your eyes were fooling you. Elisa actually likes girls? And what does she mean it would've been better if she knew how to socialize around pretty girls? Is she saying that today wasn't good and she wanted to talk to actual pretty girls? Elisa didn't have fun today with you and hoped she'd be with pretty girls, unlike you.

Your happy spirits suddenly went down feeling like a sad deflated balloon. At least she's home safely or else she wouldn't post that.

You threw the phone at the table nearby and laid stiffly back. Sam's arms came back around you, but you pushed them away and shuffled all the way to the end of the bed and turned away from her.

I fucked up.

----

~does your mom ever pull the italian hand and you panic and pray?

~Google maps app was created just 6 days before prom😝

guys let me know what you think i need to hear your thoughts

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