#so that they could all love each other enough to bring each other back to life

[needypisces]

there's only so much a body can work out, a body can do

Art Donaldson was exhausted.

He was playing tennis for hours a day, exams were coming up, and with Patrick calling from a new time zone every week, he was barely getting any sleep. Even sliding facedown onto the bed next to you offered little relief for his aching muscles.

You let out a sympathetic cluck at his frustrated sigh, dropping your book and winding a hand into his shaggy hair to scratch reassuringly at his scalp. “Poor baby,” you said. “You’re wound up way too tight.”

He didn’t reply, but you could hear his exhale into the mattress. “You need to relax.” You continued, twisting a loose curl around your finger.

“I’m not so good at that.” He admitted in a muffled voice.

“You just need some help.” You paused for a moment, eyeing the tension in his shoulders, the slight arch of his back. “Why don’t you lie down?”

Art tilted his chin up to look at you. “I am lying down.”

“On your back.”

He scanned your eyes briefly before obeying, shirt riding up his toned stomach in the process. “Like this?”

“Yeah, just like that.” You agreed. You sat beside him and he shifted slightly to maintain better eye contact, bringing up an arm to rest behind his head. The movement drew your gaze to his taut bicep, and you couldn’t resist bending down to bite it, just barely hard enough to sting.

You smiled into Art’s skin at his surprised inhale, but you were the one caught off guard when his other arm swept you seamlessly into his lap.

“Hey!” You said, sitting up straight. “Hands to yourself.” He pouted, hand still gripping your hip, but you weren’t joking. When you started to lift yourself off, he caved.

“Okay, I’m sorry.” He said, propping himself up with both arms now. “You’re in charge.”

“Don’t forget it.” You warned. He watched, chastised, as you dropped your own hands to the hem of his shirt, pulling it up until it bunched at his collarbone. Then, finally, you leaned down to kiss him.

Art was a needy kisser, always waiting for you to guide him, chasing your mouth with his own any time you tried to pull back, whimpering when you licked at the inside of his mouth. You loved kissing him, loved how much it worked him up. He was still a teenage boy, after all.

Once you could feel him properly hard beneath you, you began to descend, teeth scraping his jawbone, his collarbone, his nipple, followed soothingly by your tongue each time. Art’s abdomen was tense beneath your mouth as you pressed open-mouthed kisses to his ribs, his navel, his hips.

The tip of his cock was already sticky when you pulled down his boxers and grasped him in your fist, and you wasted no time in leaning down to tongue his slit. Normally you’d tease him much longer, make him beg, but right now, you just wanted to make him feel better. Art could hardly believe his luck.

You pumped the base of him with one hand and cupped his balls with the other as you suckled at his head. A whine escaped from high in the back of Art’s throat, and it only encouraged you to swallow more of him down.

“Oh,” he gasped, hips bucking into your mouth. “Fuck, please, please.” You moved a hand to rub his thigh reassuringly, a wordless promise, and lowered yourself further until your nose nestled against his pelvis. Art was panting desperately above you, the noises so sweet you couldn’t stop yourself from grinding down against his leg. He moaned at the feeling of your wetness, which only spurred you on more. For a while, the only sounds in the room were your slurps and gags against Art's cries.

Before long, you could feel the familiar signs of his impending orgasm, and you popped off. It took Art a moment too long to comprehend that you were speaking, too mesmerized by the string of drool connecting you to his dick.

“Where do you want to come, baby?” You asked again, hand continuing your work. “Hmm?”

“Is this a trick question?” He asked between shallow breaths.

You couldn’t help but laugh, and Art’s chest flushed pink. “No.” You promised, ducking to mouth at his balls. “Anywhere you want. Do you want to come in my mouth? On my face, or on my tits?” His face was beautifully unforgettable when you glanced up, eyes dazed and cheeks glowing as he tried to form a thought. “Come on, princess, use your words.”

At that, Art’s cock twitched in your grasp and you took him back into your mouth, tongue working at the underside. “On your face,” he finally said above you, and your stomach swelled. “Wanna come on your face.”

“Okay, baby,” you murmured. “Anything for you.” You pulled off long enough to soak two fingers in your spit, simultaneously gulping him back down and pressing the pads of your fingers behind his balls. Art clenched down and let out a strangled moan as you rubbed over his hole. You teased him with the tip of a finger, nudging at the muscle but not quite penetrating him, soaking up the mewls that fell from his mouth.

“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna- you’re gonna make me come,” he panted. His thighs were quivering; he was so close, the tension ready to drain from his body. You gave an encouraging hum, swallowing around his cock, and Art’s gasp broke into a sob as he came. You kept him in your mouth for a moment, letting yourself swallow just a little before pulling off to let him splatter onto your face. Art’s whimpers were delicious as he watched himself coat your swollen lips, your long lashes.

“Good boy,” you cooed, fist still working his cock even as he began to flinch from the overstimulation. “That’s it, does that feel better?”

Art’s head was tipped back as he struggled to catch his breath, but even still, his eyes refused to move from the mess on your face. You kept your eyes on his as you lowered your mouth once more, lapping at the dribble of cum down his cock. He started to whine in protest, it was too much, but you took pity and let him go, rocking back on your heels.

“So much better,” he whispered. “That felt so good, I needed it, thank you."

“Good.” You said, licking your lips. “That’s what I like to hear.”

#ultimately this was born out my desire to help mike faist recover from the press tour #first time posting smut on main dont make me regret it #challengers #challengers fanfic #challengers smut #art donaldson #art donaldson fic #art donaldson fanfic #art donaldson smut #challengers fanfiction #challengers movie #challengers 2024 #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x you #art donaldson challengers #fanfiction #fanfic #oneshot #imagine #smut #mike faist smut #mike faist imagine

[muchlovekatia]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ DRABBLE —

hate sex with theodore nott.

warnings!: degradation ,, swearing piv sex ,, dead dove don't eat !!

.ೃ࿐ 🎞️

〰️

"fuck— you."

theodore nott was a drug you could not stop going back to. he found ways to intoxicate you even in sleep, even in waking. he'd haunt you in your damned grave. and you got off on telling him you hated him. you made it a known fact, even as he pounded into you with relentless speed and knowing eyes. you couldn't get enough of that drug. he knew it.

"still working at that." that smug grin. with his dick drawing and pushing back into your needy cunt, you couldn't think about much at all. after all, he was the reason your back was arching into him more. he was the reason sweat rose and prickled across the plains of your skin, the reason sounds you'd never even known existed before left your throat so fast and loudly. his dick sheathed itself inside you again and again, each thrust eliciting more and more of that feeling. the feeling within you you knew only he could bring forth. "y'know, since you initiated."

"i— fuck— fucking hate you—" you gritted out, and felt a dark chuckle vibrate against your chest. your eyes were screwed shut and still you could imagine the look on his face. when you finally opened them, you found his own gaze was on yours already. you mewled, twisting, back arching and head throwing back to break the stare. it was so hard to think about hating theo then.

"as you've told me before." his eyes fled to that contact. to his dick in your cunt, to your wetness dampening the sheets and coating him. all of him. you could do nothing but lay there and dig your nails into his back, into his hair, his tip hitting that special spot within you over and over and his abdomen slamming against your pelvic bone in almost a pleasurable, painful way with each thrust. "but you do seem to like my cock, huh? filling you up so nicely. look at your beautiful little cunt, taking me so well. like it was waiting for me. did it fucking miss me?" his eyes were on yours again. then to your tits, jerking upwards every time he drove into you. your face screwed in desire and tears were wetting your lash line. his fingernails dug so lovely into your hips. you couldn't bear it. "answer me, slut. you don't want me to stop, right?" you bristled.

"yes— mhm!" your voice threw out. theo's eyes met yours again. and he smiled so beautifully you felt your toes curl. you felt your nipples harden. you felt yourself dancing across that lovely edge, felt his hard cock retreat and bury back within you. "mi— missed you soo much," you drawled, and still, that grin. it grew wider, even. you didn't have time to hate him. you couldn't give into that feeling too soon, or it'd feed his pride. so you threw your head back again, and it was only pulled back to face him once more. his hand on your chin.

"that's what i fuckin' thought. look at me while i'm fucking you." your knees weakened, a heat filling your core so abruptly you moaned out into the sex-tinted air. the sound of your squelching pussy filled your ears. "such a fuckin' brat. thinking you can act like you hate me when you know damn well it's my cock you get drunk off of." his eyes darkened over. your chest pushed into his when your back involuntarily arched. "it's my cock you go home too, huh? my cock you wait for." your pussy clenched against said cock, face twisting in pure agony as your climax awaited at the end of the tunnel. you were so close.

"please, theo!" you mewled, dragging your nails down his back, fat tears trailing your cheeks. you looked like a fucking mess. a mess that made him almost tip over. his thumb pressed into your lips and you obligingly opened your mouth, desperate. his other hand reached down and you felt his fingers on your clit, eliciting a borderline scream from you. one second more and that same finger was in your mouth. he retracted his thumb and patted your cheek, silently ordering it closed. you did so, lips circling over his fingers and sucking off your own wetness. the bitterness of what he was doing to you.

"good girls keep their fucking mouths shut."

.

yes i'm posting twice in like— 2 seconds. these are two works that have been marinating in the drafts folder for a while now.

#harry potter #theodore nott #theo nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x slytherin!reader #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x you #katiasworks #theo nott fic #theo nott fluff #theodore nott fluff #theonottsmut #theo nott rec #theodore nott fic #💼:: katiasworks #muchlovekatia #katiapostsss #theodore nott smut #theodore nott fanfiction #theodore nott fanfic #theodore

[recycledraccoon]

What if....

Damien and Danyal Al Ghul are twins. Danyal takes heavily after Bruce but Damien is a perfect mix of their parents, and he came out of the artificial womb first, so Damien is decided to be the heir.

Growing up in the League is hard, but Damien excels in a way that Danyal doesn't, because for all the potential Danyal has, he hates the killing and there is a rebellious streak evident even as young as they are. A rebellious streak is a...very dangerous thing to have. Grandfather won't kill Danyal, for as ruthless as he is he doesn't kill his own lineage. But that is not to say that the additional "training" Danyal goes through is merciful.

Damien and Danyal love each other, not just as brothers but also in the way partners do when they don't even have to blink to anticipate the others actions in the midst of action. Which is why Damien, not even yet six, can see the way Danyal is being broken down under the burden of their joint legacy.

So many times, in so many of the universes in which he exists, Danyal Al Ghul is or is seemingly killed, of which is the catalyst for his escape from the League of Assassins, and his brother is left behind thinking him truly dead.

In this universe, when the Demon Twins are out on a training mission (an assassination of a target so easy it's beneath the League for anything other than the simplest of first training missions) a massive earthquake occurs.

They are alive at the end, but both their communication devices are beyond repair. Damien is more roughed up than Danyal at the end, but both are dirty and bloodied.

This is an unprecedented opportunity, of which Damien knows deep down he will never get again.

He loves his brother deeply, but Danyal is weak, always hesitating before the kill, hands shaking. Damien loves his brother and fighting side by side, but he values more the quiet moments when Danyal is looking at star maps and trying to match them up with the sky above their home or making snarky comments about their trainers under his breath. (After when they can't hear Damien doesn't laugh but Danyal always knows he agrees and is amused.)

Grandfather's and Mother's additional training to bring Danyal up to Damien's level is making Danyal go quiet and emotionless and Damien is selfish.

(Damien convinces his twin brother to leave the League of Assassins.)

Damien drags himself to the rendezvous point and returns home alone, reporting the target dead and his brother lost under rock in the quake, body unable to be recovered. He is colder, furious at the world and himself. He pushes and pushes and PUSHES himself. He is the last remaining of a set and he will prove himself perfect to carry the title of Heir perfectly and without reproach. He is more loyal day by day, the guilt his selfishness and betrayal of his family a deep sting he can't ignore.

Talia does search, but so many bodies were lost or unidentified inside mass graves. She grieves and then refocuses on her remaining son without looking back. Grandfather laments the loss, but cares little for the spare in the long run.

Meanwhile, Danyal hid himself long enough to sneak onto one of many transports filled with foreign aid. He is small and sneakier than any average stowaway, and remains undetected all the way to the US.

He doesn't go to Gotham to find his father, but picks a direction at random and leaves, until eventually he's picked up and put in the system. Bouncing around until one day, not long after he turns seven, the Dr.'s Fenton and their young daughter are visiting in their search to adopt their second child. (A combination of genetics and radiation from their earliest experiments in college leaving the pair with low fertility rates and very high risks if they ever did get pregnant. The two get procedures early on and adopt Jazz when she is still fairly young, but wait until she is a bit older before adopting again.)

Danyal Al Ghul had an older twin brother.

Daniel Fenton doesn't think he could handle having an older brother again, but an older sister is acceptable.

Danyal left to go full civilian, and when Damien had sent him off decided he would carry that knowledge to his grave if he must. He tells no one, and does not even mention ever having a twin when he goes to live with their Father in Gotham. If Mother did not tell Father of the deceased son, then neither will Damien.

Danyal Al Ghul is dead, and Damien will keep it that way.

.

.

.

.

(The greatest secret is this: The two have never lost contact. It is very easy, during a natural disaster, to steal a pair of burner phones, each with one number only on them and prepaid with enough stolen funds to last years. Danny smuggles his with him in one piece, Damien smuggles his in pieces, ready to be hidden and repaired when necessary. He checks it scarcely, but every few months is enough to make sure his twin is alive. When he goes to live with Father in Gotham, they communicate a bit more frequently. This remains his most fiercely protected secret.)

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dp x dc crossover #dc x dp prompt #dpxdc #dp x dc prompt #danny and damian are twins #oops this was in my drafts for a hot minute might as well post it now while I'm NOT on mobile for once

[wintrwinchestr]

an overture of indulgence (joel miller x f!reader oneshot) 18+

summary: it's been a long time since you've seen joel, and some things have changed, but a lot has stayed the same. namely, how quickly he can still get you on his knees for him, ready to show him exactly just how much you like what has changed about him.

warnings: 18+, smut, post-outbreak, jackson joel, d/s relationship dynamics, pet names (baby, babygirl, sweetheart, sweet girl, etc), body worship, belly kink, talk of weight gain, belly riding, m/f masturbation, lil bit of humiliation kink, lil bit of edging, reader is an adult but age otherwise unspecified, reader is shorter than joel and has hair long enough to grab, let me know if i missed anything :)

word count: 4.3k

a/n: just fuckin outing myself left and right these days huh. idk what came over me with this one. started this late last night and here it is now. belly enjoyers rise!!!!!!! nice comments/reblogs appreciated if you enjoyed <3 you can't kink shame me bc i like getting bullied so now what. also i avoided daddy kink for once in my life please clap. i know i’m spoiling y’all this weekend don’t get used to it.

divider by @saradika

“...Joel?!” you shout, your leisurely walking pace quickly turning into a hurried jog as you leave Tommy behind, making a beeline toward the man you would swear on your life is Joel Miller. A small handful of years ago now, he was kind of your boyfriend, kind of not, kind of something else more complicated and unlabeled, because who can afford to put a label on anything in times like these?

Joel’s head turns in your direction at the sound of his name, and as soon as you spot that crooked scar across the bridge of his nose, you’re certain it’s him.

“Holy shit, I can’t believe it,” you half-cry, throwing your weight into him as you wrap him in a tight embrace. He’s much taller than you, but you still managed to knock him off his balance a little. He envelops your whole body in one of his signature, all-encompassing hugs, and it’s like no time has passed at all.

The two of you had ended whatever it was you had on good terms, no hard feelings or animosity shared between you. It was just hard to maintain any kind of relationship in a world like this, and trying to nurture romance in the Boston QZ was much like trying to grow a rose garden in toxic, radioactive soil. You can put as much care and effort and something like love into it as you have in you, but the circumstances will just never allow it to reach its full potential. The end of your “relationship” was mutual, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. Especially when he had disappeared one day without so much as saying goodbye.

When you had stumbled upon Tommy and a group of patrollers in the snowy forest outside Jackson just earlier today, you were alone, tired, and losing hope that this rumored safe haven even existed at all. You had heard crackles through the radio in the QZ about the community, and even though it sounded too good to be true, what else did you have to lose anymore? After months of travel and survival and pain and hunger, you’d never been so happy to meet a bunch of strangers in the woods in your whole life. You didn’t hesitate to get on the back of Tommy’s horse, and let him lead you to the sanctuary they spoke of.

As he was giving you a tour, proudly showing off their electricity, running water, fresh food, and clean houses, you had started to look forward to what the future may bring, for the first time in a long time. You could never have imagined you’d ever run into Joel again, that this is where he had ended up, of all places. And now here the both of you are, bodies pressed as tightly together as possible, breathing in each other’s familiar scents and never wanting to let go again.

Joel is the first to break the embrace, grasping your head in his large hands and frantically searching your face for any sign that he could be dreaming, that fate hasn’t really brought you back together again after all.

“Jesus Christ, it’s really you,” he breathes, and you swear his voice breaks just a little bit as he presses his lips to your forehead, closing his eyes as he does.

When he blinks them open again, he meets Tommy’s gaze, who’s standing quietly a few yards back from where you’re having your sentimental reunion. Tommy gives an understanding nod, and gestures that he’ll be waiting inside the community’s dining hall, gathering that whatever this is happening between his brother and some girl he only just met, he shouldn’t interrupt. Joel is grateful for many things today, one of them being the rekindled bond he has with Tommy, the other being how you somehow miraculously found your way back to him.

Small groups of other Jackson residents follow Tommy into the dining hall shortly afterward, and as the sun begins to set behind the mountains, Joel realizes it must be about time for dinner to be served.

He detaches his lips from your forehead, brushing some of your hair away from your face as he takes you in again. “You poor thing, must be starvin’ I bet,” he wonders aloud, giving you a sympathetic look.

“Kinda always am, just as a rule, but yeah,” you reply, trying to make light of your situation. Though, Joel doesn’t seem to find the humor in it the way you do.

“Long as you stay here, ain’t ever gotta worry about that again, that’s for damn sure.” He runs his tongue across his lips as he finishes his sentence, already knowing that whatever meal they’re serving tonight, it’ll be some of the most delicious food he’s had in a long time. He suspects you’ll feel much the same. “C’mon, let’s get you inside. Get you warm and fed for once in your life.”

–

Your heart, your stomach, your soul, all feel full as you relax into the comfortable couch in the living room of Joel’s cozy home. He wouldn’t even entertain the idea of you staying in an empty house all by yourself tonight, insisting that if you’d like some company while you settle in, you were more than welcome to his. He had let you spend as long as you wanted to in his shower, and he didn’t mind if there was hardly any warm water left by the time you were done. He sure as hell wasn’t paying the bill, and you deserved to feel truly clean. He can remember clear as day how he felt after his first Jackson shower, like he had stripped off a layer of grime he hadn’t been able to scrub all the way clean in twenty years. He had gone to Maria to get you some clothes and underwear while you were bathing, and set them silently on the sink counter for you to put on whenever you were done.

And now here you sit, feeling full and clean and satisfied and comfortable and safe, watching Joel stoke the logs in his fireplace as it casts the whole room in a honey orange glow. You take a moment to admire him while he isn’t looking, and even in the dim and flickering lighting, you can see he’s just as handsome as he was the last time you saw him. He looks older, with more gray in his longer hair and meat on his bones, the latter trait likely due to years worth of the hearty cooking you both indulged in tonight. He looks… good like this.

“It really is nice to see you again, you know. You look…” you start, not being able to help the way your eyes wander to his soft lower belly, the way it pushes taut against his tucked-in flannel shirt and just barely spills over the edge of his jeans.

He turns his head away from the fire to face you. You’re not very subtle in your staring, and he knows what you’re referring to right away. He huffs a light chuckle, trying to brush off the way he thinks you’re poking fun at him.

“I know, I know,” he acknowledges, placing a hand on his stomach. “Been tryin’ to get Maria to give me some more patrol shifts, see if I can get some of the weight off. But hey, you try havin’ three square meals a day for the first time in twenty some odd years, see what it does to you, huh?” He pivots his attention back to the fireplace, and he seems to turn his body further away from you on purpose, so that you can’t see the round profile of his tummy as much.

“No! No, it, um… It suits you. I was gonna say you look good, actually.” You’re quick in your reply, trying to make it clear that you didn’t mean to offend him, without letting too much on. 

He scoffs. “C’mon, you don’t gotta flatter me, sweetheart. I know I don’t exactly look the way you remember–”

“Joel, will you stop?” you interrupt, your voice laced with exasperation. “I’m being serious. Do I look like I’m making fun of you?”

He cranes his neck to look back at where you’re perched on the couch, and gives you a once over. “Guess not… Look a lil’ like somethin’ else, though, if I'm bein’ honest,” he says with a teasing smirk. And there he is again, the same quick-witted Joel you remember from back in the QZ.

You choose to engage in his banter, just to see where he’s going with it. “Oh yeah? And what’s that?”

He shrugs, beginning to mindlessly poke at the firewood again. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you look like you might like it.”

He’s just kidding around with you, trying to rile you up, you’re sure. But when he gets silence in return instead of the sound of you jumping to defend yourself with another playful jab, he turns to face you once more, and is met with your stunned expression. 

“Oh…” Joel looks down at himself, then back to you again, just in time to catch your eyes flitting from his middle back up to his face. “What, you like ‘em big, sweetheart? ‘S that it?”

The truth is, you do, you always have. It was never a requirement, of course, as the guys you’d been with before Joel all had varying body types. But you’d be lying to yourself if you said that your eyes didn’t linger just a bit longer on guys with a little more to them, with wider arms and thicker legs and a softer middle. You’ve never admitted your preference to anyone before, and Joel calling you out on it now has your face running hot, skin feeling prickly as he sees through you like you’re made of glass.

“I-I don’t– I mean, I do, kinda, but not like that… Well, it is like that, I just mean–” You stumble over yourself, fearing you’ve revealed too much, wishing you could rewind the conversation and just tell him it was nice to see him again, plain and simple.

Joel lays the fire poker down on the granite ledge of the fireplace, approaching where you’re sitting and cupping the side of your face with his calloused hand. 

“Sh, sh, stop, baby. ‘S alright if you do, nothin’ to be ashamed of,” he comforts, and it takes all the willpower you have left not to let your eyes drift down to his stomach, so close you could kiss it, if he’d let you.

“It’s just… I missed you. I thought about you all the time, wondered what ever happened to you after you left. Didn’t even know if you were alive until today. I’m just happy to see you… doing so well. To see that you’re healthy, and everything.” You swallow hard, hoping you sound convincing enough that he’ll let this go, forget all about your little admission just now. But of course, Joel is as stubborn as he’s ever been, and he doesn’t plan on releasing you from his trap now that you’re ensnared in it. 

“That’s sweet, baby, ‘s real sweet,” Joel says, softly, stroking his thumb across your cheekbone as he speaks. “Thought about you too, all this time. Practically every day…” He rakes his eyes over you, noticing the way his touch has you starting to melt already, how you’re looking up at him with your wide, needy eyes. “Why don’t you show me just how much you missed me, hm? How much you love seein’ me healthy, as you put it.”

You’re stunned into silence once again, jaw slack and pupils wide as you search his gaze for proof that he’s just messing with you, making fun of you just to watch you squirm. But you don’t find any.

“O-okay,” you agree in a half-whisper.

Joel smiles down at you, satisfied. “All these years later, still just the sweetest thing, ain’t you? You still just as obedient, too?”

You nod without even thinking, words catching up with your instinctual response a second later. “Mhm, yeah, I am…” You had forgotten how easy it is to submit to him, how good it feels to let the hypnotizing tone of his voice carry you somewhere far away from yourself, when you need it the most. Whether it was after a shitty day of working for shittier rations in the QZ, or after a harsh trek in harsher weather to a forested oasis, Joel always knows how to make you feel like submission is your most natural state. 

“Good… Kneel for me please, sweetheart,” he commands, and you obey immediately, his hand slipping from your face as you slide from the couch onto the woven carpet beneath you. Like second nature, your hands automatically fold themselves on your lap, remembering how you were never to touch Joel until he permitted you to. He takes note of this, and praises you accordingly. “Look at that, didn’t even have to ask. Such a good girl.”

He’s so enamored with you, he almost forgets where he was going with this until he watches your eyes flash to the growing bulge in his jeans, then back up to him. “Not tonight, sweetheart. Was thinkin’ you could put that pretty mouth to use on somethin’ different this time, hm?”

You knit your brows together, not sure what he means, but he doesn’t let you wonder for long. Slowly, he starts to unbutton his flannel shirt, starting at the top and working his way down. He tosses it onto the ground, then pulls his undershirt off over his head, adding it to the other discarded clothing. Without the confines of his slightly-too-tight button-up, you can see how much he really has filled out. Everything about his upper body is just a little more plush, with petal pink stretch marks adorning the soft skin in various places. You want to make it your personal mission to kiss each and every one of them, commit their exact coordinates on his body to memory.

There's a deep scar, you notice, to the left of his belly button, that has almost successfully disguised itself as one of those pretty marks. It’s definitely new since you saw him last, and it looks like it hurt, especially with the evidence of how crudely it had been stitched back together.

“What happened?” you wonder aloud, worried eyes glued to the healed injury.

He has to peer over the curve of his belly to see what you’re looking at. “Long story. Happened on my way out here, after I left Boston. Nothin’ for you to worry about, sweet girl, hardly even hurt. Forget it’s even there, most of the time,” he answers, still with a dominant edge to his voice that does a mostly good job of convincing you it’s the truth.

“Can… Can I?” you ask, waiting to receive his permission before you move your hands from your lap. 

“Yeah, baby, go ahead,” Joel allows. 

You reach out a small hand to gently trace over the raised scar, then press your lips to it with your hands splayed out on either side of your head, just barely pressing into his belly. He releases a soft groan, cradling the back of your head with one of his hands, applying the lightest amount of pressure to let you know this is where he wants to keep you. 

“Why don’t you keep goin’, sweetheart? Gimme some more lovin’ like that, know you wanna,” he encourages, and you think you get the idea now, what it is he wanted to put your pretty mouth to use for.

With his explicit permission to continue, you don’t need telling twice. You move your face to hover just in front of his belly button, admiring the dense salt and pepper happy trail that sprouts from where his jeans push into his soft skin. You drag your tongue along the hair, nipping at the soft curve of where it disappears into the divot in his stomach. He makes a noise in response, half pained and half pleasured, but he doesn’t stop you. Just for good measure, you place a kiss to the little blushing mark where your teeth had scraped him.

Almost of their own volition, it seems, your hands begin to knead at his stomach as you make good on your promise to yourself to kiss every single one of his stretch marks. You allow your tongue to dart from your mouth on the last one, and Joel sucks in a breath.

“Oh, fuck. Forgot how good that wet lil’ mouth feels on me, sweetheart. Keep goin’,” he says, voice coming out strained. His fingers curl tightly into your hair, and he begins to maneuver your face around his belly. You lathe your tongue over his skin as he does, slicking him with wet, sloppy kisses. “Yeah, baby, you fuckin’ worship it, show me how much you like me like this.”

It’s a little humiliating, but just enough that you like the feeling. You’re breathing hard and fast, letting out little whimpers as your fluttering cunt begins to soak your underwear. He brings your face to a stop at the most tantalizing part of him, the part that truly evidences how much more he’s allowed himself to indulge since settling in Jackson. The ample curve of flesh that just barely conceals the waistband of his jeans, the part you’ve wanted to get your mouth on since you first saw how it strained the lower buttons of his shirt. You latch onto it, massaging the skin around it as you use your teeth and tongue to suck a mark into him.

A growl rumbles from deep in his chest, and he curses under his breath. “Like it that much, huh? Fuck, naughty thing, look at you.”

You’re so fucking turned on, you’re shivering, rocking where you kneel and squeezing your thighs together in an attempt to get some kind of relief. You let one of your hands drift to the hard shape in Joel’s jeans, and it seems he’s enjoying this as much as you are. He spots your pathetic little squirms and as you rut against nothing, and then he’s using his grip on your hair to pull you up from the floor.

“Got an idea. Up,” he commands roughly, and you detach your lips from his belly to obey his order. “Get these off, there we go.” He pulls down your sweatpants and underwear, helping you step out of them. “Christ, you’re soaked,” Joel teases, eyeing the sizable wet spot in your panties as he tosses them aside to join the other forgotten clothing. He reaches a hand toward the apex of your thighs, teasing your wet pussy and gathering some of your slick on two of his fingers. You let out a tiny yelp, but let him play with you, and then he’s bringing his fingers in front of his face and examining the sticky strings of your arousal when he spreads them apart. “All this just from lettin’ you worship all this, huh?” he taunts, patting his stomach once for emphasis. “Who’d’ve thought? Not that I’m complainin’...”

He quickly rids himself of his jeans and briefs, then reclines onto the couch with a quiet groan, stretching out his body along the length of it. Your mouth waters at the sight of his cock, hard and leaking as it bobs against his belly, his precum adding to the dampness still there from your tongue. “Come sit, sweetheart,” Joel says, softly, motioning with both of his hands for you to come closer.

You grip a hand onto the backrest of the couch to balance yourself while you move to straddle him, prepared to sink down onto his length for the first time in way too fucking long. “Uh uh, not there, baby,” he instructs, smirking when he sees how you hesitate in confusion. “Take a seat right here for me.” Again, he pats that most tempting area of his lower belly, and you just about fall apart at the sight of how his flesh ripples in the wake of it.

“Yeah, there you go, good girl,” he praises, both hands gripping your waist as he helps you settle your weight onto his soft abdomen.

“I dunno, don’t wanna hurt you–” you start, but he cuts you off swiftly.

“You won’t, baby. I’m a big man, ain’t I?” he teases, flashing you a devilish and knowing smile. “Go on, sweetheart, ride it.”

You inhale a shuddering breath, then place both of your hands on his shoulders to hold yourself up. You start an experimental buck into his belly, and that trail of dark hair tickles your clit so perfectly. It takes a few tries for you to get the positioning and pressure just right, and then you’re truly riding him, using his full stomach to get yourself off while he watches. 

“God, that’s good. Use it, baby. You love me bigger, love that I’ve been eatin’ so good, prove it to me, c’mon,” Joel goads, and it spurs you on to grind against him harder, faster, as incoherent mumbles and curses tumble from your lips.

“Love it, Joel, you look so good, fuck. So fucking–mmh–so big, makes me so… so–”

“I know it does, sweet girl, I know. Makes you fuckin’ soaked is what it does, god damn. You gonna get my belly all messy, hm? Gonna rub your lil’ cunt all over it, get me all fuckin’ wet, hm?”

“Uh huh, yeah, gonna… I’m gonna–” you whine, eyes shutting tight as your hips pick up their pace. You move your hands from his shoulders to place them on his stomach instead, grabbing at handfuls of his tummy in an effort to create something more solid to rub yourself against. 

You’re already embarrassingly close, the humiliating edge to your earlier worship having gotten you most of the way there on its own. So swollen and sensitive it almost hurts, you won’t need much more to reach your high.

“Not without me, you ain’t. Gonna be right there with ya. You remember how we used to do it?” Joel asks, as if you could ever forget. He’s referring to your many late nights, early mornings, in his bed or in a back alley or wherever in the QZ, where he liked to make sure you both finished at the same time. You’d always be the first one to reach the edge, because he’d focus all his attention on getting you there before him, just to make you wait. It was never something punishing, just something he liked to do as an extra bit of control and dominance, and he knew it always made your orgasms that much more powerful and satisfying when he would finally permit you to let go.

With your eyes closed, so focused on your own pleasure, you hadn’t noticed that he had reached behind you to start fisting his cock some time ago. But you can hear it now, the wet schlick of his hand moving up and down his shaft as he works himself. “Hold it for me, sweetheart, I know you can. Keep rubbin’ your pretty pussy against me, jus’ like that, almost there…”

You mewl, screwing your face up as you force yourself to slow down your thrusts, muscles tense as you try to keep your orgasm at bay for as long as you can. 

Thankfully, he must be worked up enough from seeing you fall apart for him so easily for the first time in so long, that his permission comes just a few minutes later.

“Come for me, babygirl, soak my fuckin’ belly, c’mon,” Joel growls, and you fall forward immediately, twitching and spasming and crying out into the soft muscle of his shoulder as you ride out the shuddering shocks of your orgasm. He groans next to your ear as he comes, and you can feel the warm ropes of his own release as some of them land on your lower back. You’re both wet, heaving messes, as you embrace each other for the second time today and work on catching your breath.

So exhausted from the day you had, you must’ve fallen asleep against his chest as you laid there, because then you’re being woken up by the dull scratch of his fingertips against your scalp and his familiar voice working its way through the thick fog that clouds your tired brain. 

“You alright, baby?” he asks, and you can hear that he’s smiling, amused at this sleepy little thing he’s got clinging to him.

“Mhm, jus’ tired,” you answer, a barely-there mumble of a sentence.

“I’ll bet… You wanna get cleaned up? Get all tucked into bed?”

You shake your head against his neck, and he chuckles.

“No? Whatcha wanna do then, hm?”

“Jus’ lay here. Missed you. Don’t wanna let… go…” 

Your sentence drifts off into silence before the temptation of sleep allows you to finish it, but Joel gets the idea. He smiles to himself, kissing the top of your head, and hugs you closer. Both of you are still sticky and damp, but satisfied. And together again. And that’s a hell of a lot better than the alternative.

So he agrees, and you stay like that for the rest of the night. Joel doesn’t worry about whether or not he remembered to set his alarm clock for his extra patrol shift the next morning, or if he’ll even hear it all the way from his bedroom upstairs, because it doesn’t matter anyway. He has you, and you made it very clear tonight just how much you like him exactly the way he is. 

Maybe, your rose garden can finally begin to bloom, now that the pair of you have somewhere safe and comfortable and healthy to try your hand at nurturing it again.

tag list: @beefrobeefcal @iamasaddie @rebel-held @dilfgestivo @zliteraturehoe @joeldjarin @kamcrazy123 @hellowoolf @rexamongthestars @stevie75 @luxurychristmaspudding @noisynightmarepoetry @mewantpeepaw @pedritoferg (if your name is crossed out, it won’t let me tag you!!)

#my writing #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #daddy!joel miller #joel miller smut

[mondaysoct]

back home.

pairing: simon ghost riley, female reader tags: fluff, light nsfw word count: 0,6k

your smile, so pure and sincere that made him forget how to breathe for a moment. you’re just the perfect embodiment of innocence and seduction that makes simon’s breath hitch.

he looking at your face as he kisses your cheek. he squeezes you tightly, taking in your scent that made his heart rate faster than usual.

he thought for little bit as he recalled the scent. it almost like... some sort of fruity or flowery scented perfume? or shampoo?

‘you smells nice,’ he thought to himself. you two close enough to make each other aroused by the heat emanating from each other skin.

he feels your skin, your softness in the areas that have just been shaved, and his mind starts traveling into dirty thoughts. your skin is so soft, making him want to mark it with his touch.

"i missed you," he says. "please tell me you missed me back." he wanted to make sure that after a long day work, he was still on your mind, just like how he was constantly on yours throughout the day.

“i missed you too, love.” you spoke.

he traced along your spine in a pattern, he inhaled the traces of your skin. he gently untied your bra so that you felt relieved by the release. his gaze was firm, yet gentle as you felt your body slowly relax under his touch.

his thumb rubbing across your ear gently while whispering your name. he hummed, as he pressed a wet kiss on top of your head. you gently run your fingers through his short brown hair, feeling the softness beneath your touch.

it was silent for a while, and all you could listen to was the sound of his steady heartbeat. you started to rub your head against his warm chest, you were purring slightly nuzzling against his neck, making soft noises.

his familiar scent lingered, along with the smell of gunpowder and sweat from his work. it was a strange combination that you were getting used to.

you straddling his lap, slipped your arm underneath his shirt, soft hands make contact with his bare skin. your nose filled with the scent of his pheromones as you breath in. it’s strong, yet he doesn’t seem even realize that.

you lifted up his shirt and leave hot and sweet kisses and love bites all over his chest. makes him squirm a little in his hands as he tries to contain himself. “y-you…” he whispers.

“yes?” you grinned at him, he saw your teeth, the way your dimples sank and rose again.

as he looks at you, he smirked at your boldness, squeeze your cheeks makes your lips pouting. “don’t do that again…” he stares at your lips as he sees you bring his hand to your mouth. he watches as your tongue teases his finger and lick on it, he feels the heat and moisture of your lips on his hand, he likes it.

he slowly takes his hand away and puts it back on your waist. with one hand gripping your waist while another lightly gripping your hair, he stares into your eyes. "let me take care of you."

he also decided to adjust the pillows around you so that you would be positioned most comfortably as he gently put you down on the bed. he kissed your lips, taking in you all and relishing in the kiss. he smiled against your lips and kissed your nose.

"i hope you don't mind if make a few marks." he smirked and rolled you over in a matter of seconds. you were on your back and he was straddled on top of you. his lips went back to peppering gentle kisses on your skin.

#ℳ—writes #simon riley #simon ghost riley #call of duty #simon riley x reader #call of duty modern warfare #simon ghost riley x reader #cod x reader #ghost x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley call of duty #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #cod simon riley #ghost call of duty

[milflewis]

Soulmate AU

1.

When Sebastian first meets Nico Rosberg — and his hair more specifically — again after the crash, he nearly pisses his pants laughing.

“I see you have a type, eh?” He asks Lewis. He runs a hand through his own blond hair.

“Tell me,” he starts, leaning forward over Lewis’s left shoulder. Bono is saying something in the seat beside Lewis. Lewis’s face is relaxed and calm.

“Did you jerk off to Michael too? Blond, German, very fast. He’d fit in your collection.”

Lewis’s face doesn’t even flicker. When he asks a question about whatever Bono is saying, his voice is steady and quiet. They could be back in their regular driver briefings. Something in Sebastian’s chest swells up, pushing at his heart and lungs, mean and sour.

“Don’t worry,” he tells Lewis. “We all did. Can’t have you thinking you are special, hmm?”

2.

There are stories — old ones — that one hears over the years.

Stories of those who don’t meet their soulmates properly in life, and so join them in death.

Sebastian used to love stories.

When he opens his eyes after going into the wall too fast and too hard, he is standing beside Lewis Hamilton.

Lewis is talking to Ted, the camera on. His eyes are shadowed and his shoulders are curved slightly inwards.

When he sees Sebastian next to him, he startles, mouth falling open. “I — You.”

“Lewis?” Ted is frowning, concerned. “Are you alright?” He has a hand up as if to tell the cameraman to get ready to stop rolling. Or to zoom in on Lewis’s face. Sebastian isn’t sure.

“Um.” Lewis blinks, swallowing. He glances at Ted and then back at Sebastian.

Never let it be said that Sebastian isn’t ever helpful.

“He can’t see me, I think,” Sebastian says, and then mimes a blowjob with his hand and mouth, tongue in cheek, in front of Ted, who doesn’t stop staring at Lewis.

“Right, yeah,” Lewis says, as shakey as Sebastian has ever heard him. “Um.”

“Funny story,” Sebastian says, furious. He wants his dad. He stays looking into Lewis’s tired shocked face. He thinks if he sees his mom, he will never be able to stop crying “Turns out we are soulmates.”

“Lewis, you okay? Do you need a minute?”

Lewis inhales. Sebastian can see him visibly remember there is a camera on him. When he smiles, it is a thin slight of a thing.

“Sorry, man, what was your question again?”

3.

Lewis gets more curled in on himself as the year goes on, face thin. Quieter too. Him and Nico snap and snap at each other’s heels. Toto nearly has a stroke keeping them from biting.

Sebastian is self aware enough to know that he is not helping. That his commentary — one sided that it is as no one other than Lewis can hear him and Lewis rarely responds, not through words nor expressions — is only making things worse for him.

He can’t bring himself to care.

It drives the cold away a little. That short spark of satisfaction and victory when he pokes and pokes and pokes and Lewis keeps a straight face through it all.

Sometimes, if Lewis breaks, either in a flinch or an aborted eye roll, or god forbid, a laugh, then Sebastian can even make himself pretend that he is still alive.

“I have a question,” Sebastian declares. He is standing over by the window, looking out at the paddock.

Lewis ignores him.

Nico is saying something in response to James Allison. He looks tense. The entire room looks tense. Sebastian rolls his shoulders.

“Did you stop fucking Nico before I died, or do you only not like exhibitionism? I could leave if you want privacy.”

This makes Lewis look at him. It is a quick glance, cutting and sarcastic, eyebrows slightly raised. He somehow manages to look pissed and amused and embarrassed, all at the same time.

Sebastian smiles sunnily at him. It is often exhausting to be around Lewis, especially when he is like this. Lewis might be quiet, packed in tightly, but he spills over most of the time. No one can ever accuse him of being small.

“You are right, I guess,” Sebastian muses thoughtfully. “I would not leave you alone. I would be too bored.”

Nico wins. Nico retires. Lewis disappears home for the break. Sebastian follows his brother around for a few months, chattering at him, even though Fabian doesn’t ever respond. It’s not that different from before if he is being honest.

There is a Lewis light in his chest, always pulling. It’s not that bad of a sore, Sebastian reasons. Only a little achey.

4.

Formula One has started back up again when Sebastian follows the tug back to Lewis.

Lewis doesn’t say anything at Sebastian’s sudden appearance in the garage. His shoulders relax slightly though when Sebastian makes a quick quip about Valtteri’s blond — Seriously, Lewis, Sebastian thinks, half fond — hair.

He looks less like a scrunched up tissue someone used to blow their nose with. Sebastian tells him this. He catches Lewis’s badly smothered eye roll in the sleek reflective black of Mercedes’ desks.

He even makes Lewis laugh, startled, when he asks him if he managed to get laid while Sebastian was gone.

“So,” Niki says, sitting down beside Lewis in his motorhome. Lewis hums, pulling out his earbuds. Sebastian is slumped on the floor, back against the opposite wall. They’re waiting to be called for the post practise debrief.

“So.”

The half grin, all teeth and eyes squishing up, that Lewis sends Niki reminds Sebastian of Formula Three. His fingers itch for a steering wheel.

“Are you going to introduce me to your soulmate anytime before I die?”

Lewis goes very still. Stupidly, damningly, his eyes dart to Sebastian before he looks back at Niki.

Niki raises his eyebrows. He, eerily, manages to look Sebastian directly in the eyes. Sebastian waves. Just in case.

Niki’s expression doesn’t change.

Sebastian’s exhale could be a laugh.

“Well?” Niki nudges. “I am not getting older, you know?”

“Jesus, Nik,” Lewis says, automatically, like it’s rote. “I’ve told you. Stop making those jokes.”

“You’re the one who calls me ‘old man’.”

“It’s a term of endearment!”

Niki stares at him down. For the first time in Sebastian’s life — and death — he watches as Lewis Hamilton gives in.

“I don’t need to introduce you. You already know him.”

“Knew him,” Sebastian corrects. Lewis ignores him.

Niki watches Lewis for a moment longer. Lewis, resolutely, refuses to look away.

“This is ridiculous,” Sebastian informs him.

“Hello, Sebastian,” Niki says, and for the second time in not even five minutes, Sebastian wonders if Niki can see him. He doesn’t bother waving this time but it is a little freaky.

“I hate you,” Lewis tells him, sulkily.

“Yes,” Niki says, patting him on the shoulder. “I know.”

“How did you know?”

Sebastian isn’t sure if Lewis is asking how Niki knew that Lewis had a dead soulmate or how he knew that dead soulmate was Sebastian.

“Hmm, last year, you were weird. Weirder after Sebastian. Not how Nigel was, with Elio, or Michael, with Aryton.” Niki doesn’t take his eyes off of Lewis. His voice and face is softer than Sebastian has ever heard or seen. “Just. Weird. And still too, after Nico left.”

Lewis swallows thickly. “Right.”

“Some of me hoped.” Niki stops. He looks over at where Lewis looked earlier, when he is steadily refusing to look now. “When James died, I looked out for him.”

He shrugs. There is something hanging heavy in his face. “We knew each other too well in life, maybe. Or that was all the time we were given. More than most.”

“Yeah.”

Lewis meets Sebastian’s eyes. Sebastian looks back at him.

“And,” Niki says. He reaches a hand behind them and raps on the wall. “These are a bit thin too. I heard you talking to someone, once or twice.”

“Fuck off,” Lewis laughs. He scrubs an open palm down his face.

Niki reaches over to pat his cheek firmly. “You are sleeping better, this is good. Keep it up.”

“Aye, cap’n,” Lewis says dryly.

5.

Jenson: you cheatying slag

Jenson: i knoiw 4 a FACT that you dont know all the wdcs off by heart

Jenson: usinh seb as your own fuckinh wiki is wrong

Jenson: always knew you were a cheater aty your core. fernando warned me about you LOL

Jenson: also. tell seb hes a nerd

#ok so. major character death. but like. also not bc ghosts are a thing here #i’ll tag it anyway just in case #tw major character death #sewis #five head cannons ask game #little fics #anon tag #niamh.asks

[lizard-on-a-window-pane]

5 times you and Miguel walked away from each other and 1 time you didn't

pairing: Miguel O'Hara x reader notes: brother'sbestfriend!Miguel, soccerplayer!Miguel, college au, slow burn, somewhat mutual pining but written from reader's perspective more exclusively, SFW - only slightly suggestive (worst thing is probably a boner), fem reader (pretty neutral though), saying soccer instead of football felt so dirty but oh well, thank you for reading!! word count: 5.9k

You’re having your first lazy day in forever. It’s the first day in recent memory that you didn’t have something to do or somewhere to be. You’re just going to hang out in your apartment and watch your favorite shows or read for fun for once or whatever else you feel like doing. Because you don’t have to go anywhere, you don’t even take a shower, opting to stay in your comfy pajamas, not bothering with any makeup or hair effort, as you lounge around. 

You have the place to yourself now, but you share it with your twin brother Alex, the two of you lucky enough to go to the same university. 

When you eventually hear his keys scratching at the door, you’re sprawled on the couch reading a novel you’d left half-finished for ages despite actually really enjoying it. School really had a way of making you not read. Or at least never full books. 

As Alex opens the door, you’re surprised to hear him talking to someone else. You see his unexpected guest a moment later from your spot on the couch, your college apartment rather small after all. And you’re mortified. Miguel. Alex’s best friend, university soccer team superstar, ridiculously attractive Miguel. 

God, why did Alex not warn you he was bringing someone over? All it took was a quick message, for fuck’s sake. And Miguel of all people? Ugh. Well, it wasn’t like you could tell him. “Hey, brother dear, I have a huge crush on your best friend, so can I please get a warning next time he’ll be around? You know, especially so I’m not looking like a total mess when he shows up?

He’d been coming over a lot recently actually. He and Alex were both on the soccer team and happened to share a few classes too, so their schedules really lined up. Usually, it was nice to get to see him. It’s not like either of them paid that much attention to you when they were hanging out, but Miguel was nice to look at. Even now, they seemed like they were coming back from a casual soccer match or something, and he still looked amazing. His thick, dark hair was messy in the way that made you want to run your hands through it; his t-shirt hugged his unreasonably broad chest and shoulders perfectly, and his sweatpants — fuck, his sweatpants — his ass looked miraculous as he turned to put his gym bag down.

Miguel’s looking at you as he and Alex step into the living room. “It’s Saturday, Y/N, and the weather’s finally fucking nice. Why’re you reading a book? You’re such a nerd,” Alex snaps as he plops onto the couch next you, pushing your legs off to make room. 

“I’m a nerd because I’m reading a book? Am I am tomboy because I’m not wearing a dress, too, or are we keeping it to one stupid superficial stereotype?” 

Miguel chuckles as he sits on Alex’s other side. “Cut him some slack, Y/N, he took a soccer ball to the head today. Might be making him even more of an idiot than usual.” 

You can’t help but worry; you love the idiot after all. 

“You okay? Was it bad?” you’re asking as you run your hand over his head looking for bumps. “I’m fine, mom,” he mocks, pushing you away. “And you? You asshole,” he accuses Miguel playfully. “‘Took a ball to the head’?” he repeats, then turning to you adds, “It was him that kicked it!” Miguel starts laughing.

“It was the perfect setup, man. Not my fault you were distracted.” “Whatever,” Alex says as he reaches for the video game remotes. Knowing them, it was time for FIFA.

You’re eager to hide with how you look right now anyway, so you get up to head into your room. “We didn’t mean to kick you out,” Miguel starts kindly. “ You don’t have to go; you were clearly comfortable here.” “Clearly comfortable”? God that sounded bad in your head. He was “super hot”; you were “clearly comfortable.”

“Thanks, Miguel. It’s fine. I was going to —“ but you don’t finish your excuse as you trip on the remote’s charging wire as you step across, falling unceremoniously to your face right in front of them. 

“Mierda!” Miguel yells.

Alex immediately asks, “You okay?,” but it’s Miguel who’s up and over you in the same instant.

“You alright?” he asks softly as his hands grab your hips to help you up. 

His hands on you were the last thing you needed right now. So much for composure. “Fine. Really,” you say, your breath shaky. You’re kneeling on your living room floor; Miguel’s squatting in front of you, close; his hands haven’t left your body even though you’re no longer prone. He just watches you closely, eyes beautiful and concerned. You stare back into them, and after a couple more shaky breaths finally manage to stand up and step away, looking anywhere but at him. “‘M fine,” you repeat. You turn away hurriedly and go the few steps to your room. Once safely behind closed doors, your face scrunches and your stomach sinks at the sheer embarrassment. 

~

It’s been days since Miguel was at your apartment, and part of you is happy for the lack of pressure but another part of you still gets a funky feeling in her gut at the idea that the last memory of you he had was of a clumsy mess. He and Alex have a game today, and pretending to convince yourself that you just felt like it today, you make yourself up more than usual for it. You’re actually pretty happy with your look as you head out to meet some friends at the match. 

They win. Miguel scores. Twice. Alex’s defense is probably the main reason for their clean sheet. 

So, hyped up on adrenaline and victory, they’re laughing and messing around with their teammates as a bunch of people approach the sidelines to congratulate them. Alex spots you and makes a goofy face, always so playful when he’s happy. He jogs over to you and gives you a huge hug.

“Stop, you’re so sweaty!” you squeal. He just holds you tighter and rubs his sweaty hair on you, laughing. When he finally pulls away, Miguel is standing right next to him, smiling at the two of you. “Do I get a hug too?” he teases. “I scored two more goals than he did!” 

You’re not sure if he’s kidding, and you’re sure the chuckle you give in response is somewhat tense.

But, stepping toward him, you just say, “Congratulations,” and wrap your arms around his shoulders without getting too close. Damn, they were like boulders. Miguel wraps his arms around your waist and closes the distance you’d maintained, giving you a surprisingly intimate embrace. You’re struck by the feeling of him around you. He’s sweaty, too, and you can smell his musk, but instead of off-putting, you find it incredibly arousing. You can feel the rise and fall of his breathing where your chest is flush with his. He’s so warm, and you just want to breathe him in and trace every ridge of his body. But the hug is already lingering too long to be normal, and you pull back a bit awkwardly. Miguel is still looking at you, a subtle smile on his face. 

He seems about to say something when a high pitched squeal right next to you startles you. 

“Miguel!” a very pretty girl yells at him as she approaches, unabashedly jumping onto his back. She’s in a cheer uniform. “Oh my god, you were so good!” Miguel’s so sturdy, her jumping on him didn’t throw him off physically, but his face looks a little flustered. “Uh, thanks,” he says politely, putting her down. She just giggles and grabs his arm as she compliments him again. 

You feel so awkward watching this, so you just turn around and walk away. You don’t see Miguel looking after you.

~

You’re at the after party with a couple of your friends. The soccer team was quite popular, and the victory parties tended to be good. You’re mostly having fun, but you can’t help but keep looking over to where Miguel is. Man of the match and man with that face, he was obviously the center of attention. People were coming up to congratulate him left and right. He handled it all so graciously. It shocked you how there was no arrogance in his demeanor; he was just the easygoing life of the party. 

You wanted to go talk to him too, but you’d already congratulated him and didn’t know what else you would say. The last thing you wanted was to embarrass yourself again. You could go talk to your brother, who was right next to him, but he was busy flirting, and you didn’t want to ruin it for him. 

A bunch of people are dancing in the open space between you and Miguel, and the chaos lets you sneak long looks at him without his noticing. But when your friend leans over and asks, “Who do you keep looking at?,” you realize you have to be less obvious. “No one, just curious who Alex is flirting with,” you lie, proud of how quick you were with it. 

“You a jealous, protective sister type?” she laughs. 

“No, just curious.” “Is he?” “What?” “Protective?”

“Um, sometimes, depends. Why?”

“Because that guy over there keeps checking you out.” She nods toward an okay-looking guy chatting with someone on the edge of the dance floor. A second later, he was indeed looking over at you. “You should go talk to him!” “Oh, I don’t know. I’m not so interested.” “Why not? He’s hot! I’m pretty sure he’s on the team too. You don’t have to marry him, Y/N, just go dance! You’ve been weirdly tense all night.”

You look over again, and your eyes meet. Before you can do anything else, he makes the decision for you, walking over to you.

“Hey.” “Um, hi.” You exchange names and pleasantries, and he asks you if you want to dance. Without thinking about it, you glance toward the person you really wish you were dancing with. To your surprise, Miguel is already looking toward you. He looks less happy than before. You look back at this guy quickly, hoping neither of them noticed. 

You feel slightly bad thinking this, using this guy you weren’t super interested in, but you couldn’t help but feel it’d be nice if Miguel saw a side of you that might make him think of you differently, not just as Alex’s sister. It’s just a dance anyway, so, you accept the offer and head to the dance floor. 

You fall into a rhythm with the music, with the guy. The dancing is fun; the guy is fine. Your back is to Miguel, and you can’t resist spinning to catch another glimpse, doing it seamlessly as you keep dancing. Your breath catches when your eyes meet his. 

Miguel watching you from across the room is doing much more to turn you on than anything your current dance partner is doing, but you channel your new energy into your movements. It’s not a well thought out decision, though in the back of your mind you know who it’s for, but you start moving a bit more suggestively. You let your hips follow the music, let your hands come up to your hair as your body rolls rhythmically. Feeling especially bold, you even manage to meander closer to where Miguel is, giving him a better view. 

Unbeknownst to you, this unfortunately also makes Alex, now unoccupied, notice you for the first time. You don’t hear him leaning over to Miguel and saying, “Gross. I hate seeing my sister with random guys. Let’s go get more drinks.” He drags him away, and Miguel, unable to come up with a good reason not to follow, does. 

The next time you spin, all you catch is the backs of their heads.

~

The following week, you’re coming home from classes, and all you can think about is eating. You’d had to skip lunch to finish an assignment and couldn’t wait for dinner. 

When you enter your apartment, you find Miguel sitting on your couch. 

“Hey,” he greets. “Hi.” He’s sitting on the edge of the sofa closest to you, and he adorably shifts over to make room, as if you couldn’t just go around. You weren’t planning on sitting anyway, but now that he’s wordlessly extended an invitation, you do. “Where’s Alex?”

“Went to take a shower. We’re gonna play a couple games when he’s done.” He gestures toward the video game console. “Are the remotes charged?” you joke. “I hear it’s a hazard to have the wires across the living room floor.” Miguel chuckles lightly at your self-deprecating humor. He’s turned toward you, sitting in the middle of the couch, his elbow on the backrest as he occasionally messes with his luscious hair. “I felt so bad that day. Taking over your space and tripping you. When you looked so peaceful when we got here.”

“Don’t feel bad,” you laugh, amused but also masking your stirring feelings at the fact that he had thought about it at all. “I was just a mess that day. And I wouldn’t call my pajamas peaceful, just comfortable. In my defense, though, I wasn’t expecting company.”

“I liked your pajamas,” he teases, and you roll your eyes. “What? I did! I’m all for comfy clothing; have you not noticed 90% of my wardrobe is gym clothes?”

“Yes, well, you can get away with it. You’re a guy, and you look like that,” you say, gesturing at his body before you really realize what you’re saying. You tense as soon as you do. It just slipped out, the conversation getting weirdly easy and comfortable with him. “Like what?” he asks, but he’s smirking, knowing what you meant. You just roll your eyes again. “No, c’mon, chula, like what?” He lifts his eyebrows in challenge, mirth in his eyes. You’re too busy reeling from the pet name to have mental energy to come up with a retort. You’re grateful for what would’ve otherwise been embarrassing: your stomach grumbling. Miguel looks at your stomach and giggles. “Hungry?”

“Starving,” you say, taking the escape route and walking to the adjoining kitchen. He follows. “You can get away with it too, you know,” he says nonchalantly. You think you know what he means but look back at him questioningly. “The clothes. You always look good.” 

You’re glad you’re not facing him, your expression probably revealing your excitement. “Thanks.” “You’re welcome.” He leans on your counter. “So what are you having?” “I don’t know, whatever we have. Haven’t had time to go to the store.” You’re rummaging through your cabinets. “I can make you something,” he offers. You stop and look at him. “What? I’m a great cook,” he shrugs defensively. “Have you never had my tamales?”

“It’s not about you being good or not,” you giggle. “There’s no reason you should have to cook when you’re just here to hang out.” 

He just shrugs again, but there’s a tinge of shyness in his typically confident facade. 

You turn to open your fridge, and he comes up right next to you. “Oh shit, you guys have jarritos. Can I steal one?”

“Yeah, of course,” you laugh. “Grab whatever you want.”

You didn’t think he would immediately… As you bend over to grab something from the drawers, Miguel reaches up to grab the soda, leaning forward. Both of you moving simultaneously, your ass presses firmly against his crotch. You both freeze in panic, prolonging the position, before you jump up at the accidental contact. His and your “sorry”’s and “I didn’t mean to”’s get jumbled together in the colossally awkward moment. Miguel looks down, then back up again looking startled. He scurries around to the other side of the counter, it now separating you. “Jesus, Miguel, I didn’t do it on purpose! You don’t have to put a barricade between us; it’s not like I’m gonna jump you!” “No, no, it’s not that! Fuck, it’s, uh, fuck…” He looks lost for words. His hand comes to his face, covering it in resigned embarrassment. His voice is a mumble through his obstructing hand, “I’ve a bd’ve uh sitch-ation.”

“What?” He uncovers his face with an exasperated sigh. “I have… a bit of a… situation,” he whispers, looking down.

“Oh… oh!” you say, realization hitting you. Probably largely because of the awkward tension, at least partially at the idea of you giving Miguel O’Hara a boner, you start cracking up. He just stares at you, deadpan, his hands coming to his hips. “It’s not funny.” “It’s a little funny.” His glare cracks the tiniest bit. 

“Okay, maybe it’s a little funny. But it’s your fault!”

“I didn’t mean to!”

“Didn’t mean to what?” Alex asks nonchalantly, coming out of his room, lazily drying his hair.

“Nothing!” you and Miguel say simultaneously.

“Okay… should I just pretend that wasn’t really suspicious?” 

“Yes,” you tell him. “It’s nothing, really. Just me being clumsy again.”

His eyes are still skeptical, but Alex just chuckles and nods, letting it go at the look on your face. He heads to the couch with an easy “C’mon, man” at Miguel. Miguel follows, giving you a sideways glance and tense smile. When he sits, he immediately puts a cushion on his lap. You grab the first thing that looks edible in your fridge and head to your room. 

~

Two weekends later finds you at another soccer team party. They’d lost this time, 2-1. Miguel scored their sole goal, and the other team’s second had been a sketchy penalty. If the victory parties were good, the defeat ones were wild. Most of the players, Miguel and Alex among them, were drowning their sorrows, especially after such a disheartening defeat.

You weren’t a player, but you had your own sorrows to drown, and you weren’t stopping yourself from doing just that. You’d hardly seen Miguel in almost two weeks, and the few times you had, he’d been cold, keeping interactions mainly to greetings and goodbyes. You didn’t know if you’d done something wrong, if he was still caught up with your little awkward encounter, or if you were just making it up, your feelings for him needing some outlet. Making up stories by constantly obsessing about him was as good as outlet as you could get sometimes. Alcohol was a better one now. 

A while into the party, you’re at the bar for your… you lost count… numberth tequila shot. You down it, lick the salt off your hand, and stick the lime in your mouth, cringing. 

Your eyes are still closed when you feel a hand on your shoulder. You open them and see Miguel standing beside you. “Maybe switch to water, huh, guapa?” he tells you.

“Why? M’fine,” you slur. 

“Maybe, but you won’t be if you keep this pace up.” “And how would you know?” 

“Just noticed,” he shrugs. 

You squint your eyes accusingly at him. You didn’t know what you’d feel next time you talked to him, but you hadn’t expected to feel this angry. 

“You notice me enough to watch how much I drink but not to say more than two words at a time to me for weeks?” He looks surprised. “Y/N…” 

You cross your arms and lift your eyebrows in an implied “what?”

When he doesn’t say anything, you just walk past him. You end up walking through the dance floor, and though it wasn’t your plan, you kind of like moving to the music. You’re drunk enough to the lack the inhibitions to just dance alone. You’re enjoying yourself, not even bothering to look back and see if Miguel was still there. A bit later though, you startle as you feel a hand on your ass. You turn and find a random guy you’ve never met before, smiling at you disgustingly drunkenly. You’re taken aback, your mind already a bit slow from the alcohol, so you haven’t decided yet how to tell him to fuck off by the time Miguel is in front of you shoving him away. He’s not overly aggressive but, even drunk, easily moves the guy away from you with an angry “What the hell, man?” 

The other guy looks seriously scared and just lifts his hands with a pathetic “sorry, Miguel.” 

“Fucking better be, what the hell is wrong with you?” The other guy stumbles away. Miguel turns towards you, and his expression melts from frightening anger to warm concern in two seconds. “You okay?” he asks, his hands carefully grazing your shoulders. You nod and lean into him. At your seeming comfortable, he lets his arms come around you. 

“Thanks,” you whisper in his ear.

“Of course,” he whispers in yours, and it sends a shiver down your entire body. You stare into his eyes, your hands resting on his chest. 

“Miguel?” 

“Yeah?”

“Wanna dance with me?” 

They don’t call it “liquid courage” for nothing. 

Miguel considers you for a moment, but a soft smirk is whispered across is sharp features. He nods slowly, and his hands move slightly further down your back. You close your eyes at the sensation of his hands running along your body. You run your hands up his chest slowly and wrap your arms around his neck. When you open your eyes, you see his crimson ones boring into you. 

You start moving a bit more as you focus on the music to relieve some of the tension you’re feeling. He follows your lead, and soon you’re dancing together much more easily. As a couple of songs go by, you’re both moving freely, staying close to each other the whole time.

You’re so exhilarated, and he seems as enveloped in you as you are in him, so the next time the beat calls for it, you let your body twist rhythmically in his grasp. Your back is now flush with his chest, your ass on his crotch, your hand reaching behind you on his neck, in his hair. His hands are firm on your hips, and when you roll them against him, you hear his whispered “Fuck, mami” in your ear and feel his arm come around your middle, pulling you into him. His hips move in rhythm with yours. You’ve probably never been so turned on in your entire life. You keep this up for a delicious while. You can feel Miguel is hard through his jeans, but he makes no sign of being embarrassed, just continuing to dance with you with expert hip movements that make your imagination go wild. Of course he’d be an amazing dancer. Of course you’d imagine what else his hips could do. 

You twist back in his embrace, coming to face him. He holds you close, and you bring a hand to his face. He leans into your touch. You move your face up slightly, and he seems to be following, moving his down. You’re so close, even think you feel your lips graze his, when someone bumps up against you, making you stumble. 

Miguel’s strong arms catch you, but the moment is gone, and a second later, he looks startled.

“You okay?” he asks, stepping back a bit, speaking loudly to keep his distance. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you assure, but he seems off. 

“Let’s get some air, huh?” 

You follow him outside, the sudden change in ambience making your head spin a little. You lean against the wall, and he puts his hand on your shoulder. 

“Sure you’re okay?” You nod but don’t say anything, maybe a bit drunker than you thought, trying to ground yourself. He leans on the wall next to you. His body is warm where it grazes your side. You can feel his gaze intermittently on you. You get a little dizzy again, and you lean onto his shoulder. He just lets you, and you stand like that for a while. 

His fingers graze the back of your hand.

“Want me to take you home?”

You nod into his body. He wraps a firm arm around your shoulders and leads you away from the party. 

You’re home before you know it, the whole journey a blur dominated by his warmth by your side. When you reach your front door, you lean on it and look up at him. His subtle smile elicits your full one. “Thanks,” you whisper. “’S no problem,” he shrugs. “You’ll be okay?” “Yeah,” you nod. You’re already sobering up. “You?” He chuckles and nods. 

“I wasn’t the one downing tequila shots like water,” he teases. Your cheeks warm, and you look down as you chuckle. 

“Wasn’t that many…” 

He laughs.

“It was, cariño.” Again with the pet names. 

“I’m still surprised you noticed.” “I always notice you,” he responds without missing a beat. Your eyes snap up to his, and you see the longing there. 

You stare at each other for a heavy moment, then, drunk more on the sensations of your earlier almost-kiss than on alcohol, chasing that feeling, you lean up to try again. Your lips are a breath away from his when he looks down, effectively rejecting your advance. You pull away, mortified. 

“Sorry, I… sorry,” you stutter as you scramble for your keys. You turn to your door. “Y/N,” he whispers, his hand holding your wrist softly. “It’s okay,” you say, looking back him, wiping tears from your eyes. “You don’t have to say anything; sorry I misunderstood.” 

You quickly go inside and close the door. You lean on it, crying. Miguel, eyes closed, fists clenched, rests his forehead on the opposite side. 

~

Miguel doesn’t come around for a while. Even as days pass, you can’t stop thinking about your night together. Confusion, sadness, embarrassment — all mixing together into a terrible cocktail.

Another match day rolls around, and you can’t stomach the idea of watching Miguel play, of potentially having to talk to him after. You tell Alex you’re really sorry to not support him this time, but that you’re not feeling well. He worries over you a while, unhelpfully but adorably emptying your medicine cabinet onto the kitchen counter, looking through stuff, suggesting this and that, telling you to text him anything you needed that he could bring you after. 

A while later, you’ve just slumped down onto the couch, when your stomach sinks at the sight you’re met with. There, at the corner of the room, lie his cleats. He’d been cleaning them the night before and had clearly forgotten to put them back in his gym bag. 

“Fuck.” 

You lift yourself up, grab them, and head over to the stadium. 

When you get there, you pound at the locker room door, and it opens — of course, you couldn’t catch a fucking break — to Miguel O’Hara’s gorgeous face. Though he looks at you intently, you can’t quite read his expression. Then he yells over his shoulder, “Ale!” 

Alex jogs over and, upon seeing you, lets out the biggest sigh of relief. 

“Oh, thank God. I fucking love you.” He reaches for the cleats you’re holding up to him and gives you a  bear hug. “Saved my fucking life, Y/N/N. Thank you.” He kisses your forehead. “You don’t look as sick. You’ll be okay?” He’s clearly in a rush to get back but wants to make sure you’re alright. 

You nod and playfully shove his chest, pushing him back into the locker room. “You’re the best!” he yells over his shoulder as he saunters back. Miguel is still just standing there, all geared up for the match. It crosses your sick mind how good the uniform looks on him. 

“You’re sick?” he asks. 

“Nothing I won’t get over.” You offer him a weak smile. He’s nodding slowly, considering. 

“Stay for the match?”

“Miguel, I —“ “Please.” You’ve never heard him plead before. You’re head is nodding before your mind can catch up. He just nods too. “I’ll find you after.” And with that, he jogs back into the locker room. 

You’d never known ninety minutes could drag on for eternity, with a half-time’s worth of eternity in between. You’re sure you’re heartbeat was elevated the entire time, your mind and emotions reeling. What was Miguel going to say to you after the match? You had absolutely no read on him during your short interaction before. Then again, apparently you weren’t always great at reading him. 

Minute after minute trickles by. At the end of the second half, your team up a goal (yes, Miguel’s), the ref announces an unusually large number of minutes. You moan with everyone else, for your own reasons. What was a potential leveler compared to the leveling of your heart?

Slowly, the minutes pass. The other team builds a mounting attack; they get a good attempt; they miss. The whistle blows; the crowd cheers, and you, you’re frozen in place. 

You thaw yourself slowly as the players shake hands, go to their respective huddles. By the time they’re roaming the sidelines freely, you’ve only just managed to leave your seat. 

As you descend the bleachers stairs, you catch sight of Miguel. He’s obviously searching, halfheartedly ignoring the congratulations coming from all sides. His eyes eventually meet yours, and as soon as they do, he’s running over to you, meeting you much closer to the bleachers than the field. 

He comes to a stop right in front of you and just watches you. You just watch him. “Congratulations,” you say. He chuckles, lightly shaking his head.

“Thanks.” 

He takes a step closer to you. “Y/N…” “Yeah?” “I…” “Miguel!” you’re interrupted. “Congratulations! Way to pull it out!” “Thanks, yeah, thank you,” he says hurriedly, looking back over to you. “Listen, I just, I wanted to clear things up after how we left them.” You nod, worrying your bottom lip, your arms wrapping around you defensively.

“I didn’t want you to think that —“

“Congratulations, Miguel! Did it again, man!” And a slap on the back.

“Uh-huh, yeah, thank you,” Miguel responds, turning away, approaching rudeness. “For fuck’s sake,” he says, much more softly. “C’mere.” He grabs your arm and drags you around the bleachers, stopping when you have a semblance of cover. He’s looking around to make sure no one else is about to talk to him, and his worried looks right after he’s just won makes you laugh. The sound draws his attention fully back to you. He smiles at seeing you smiling. 

“Where can a guy get a little privacy, huh?” he jokes. “Probably not still by the field where he just scored the winning goal, I’m guessing,” you tease. He chuckles. Then he takes a deep, sobering breath. “Listen, Y/N…” 

His tone sounds apologetic, and it makes you immediately think the worst. He probably just didn’t want you to be embarrassed. Wanted to fix things so they wouldn’t be awkward if he hung around, which he’d obviously want to do given Alex was his best friend. 

Already fighting back tears, wanting to beat him to the punch to save face in whatever way you could at this point, you cut him off. “Miguel, you don’t have to explain anything or anything. I’m sorry I made more out of a good time than I should have. Please don’t let me keep you from hanging out with my brother even if I’m around, and I hope we can still be friends.” “What? No, that’s not… This isn’t about Alex. I mean, well it is a little bit.” He’s looking unsure. “Just keep things how they were before. It’s all fine.” “Is that what you want?” He looks serious. “What do you mean?” “Is that what you want? To keep things how they were before? To still be friends?”

“I… well… it’s what you want, isn’t it?” “I never said that.” “You didn’t have to. I tried to kiss you, and you pretty much said no to that. Twice.”

“I didn’t. Well, once, yeah I did, but it was only because I was worried you were too drunk. I didn’t want to take advantage of you. And, also, maybe a little bit because I panicked, okay?” He sounds more vulnerable than you’ve ever heard him yet. “I was worried it’d be weird with Alex or that I’d fuck it up with you, and I just, I don’t know, I panicked. And the other time wasn’t my fault. I was going to kiss you if you hadn’t stumbled.” “Someone bumped into me!” “I’m not blaming you! I just, it just, it made me remember you were drunk, and I didn’t want to be like that idiot guy I’d had to push away a while earlier.” “You’re nothing like that guy,” you say sternly. “I…” He’s started to look frustrated, unable to find the words. He runs his hand over his face, takes another deep breath. “What if you try now?” “What?” “I don’t know how to tell you. So maybe I can just show you. Try again, and no one will bump into you. I won’t panic, and I won’t think of all the things that could go wrong. I’ll think of how I’ve been feeling since that night. Absolutely fucking miserable. It’s been eating away at me; all I could think about was making it right with you, but I didn’t know how, didn’t know if I should. But I can’t take it anymore, and if you feel the same way, then, fuck, let’s just stop getting in our own way.” 

“Miguel…” “Yeah?” “That was pretty good for not knowing how to tell me.” Your face forms the slightest teasing smirk, your eyes lighting up at the realization of what he’s telling you. “Shut up and kiss me already,” he says, rolling his eyes, unable to help his bright smile, pulling your body to his and bringing his lips onto yours. 

You pull him into you, reciprocating eagerly. He moans into your mouth, and you feel his towering body sink onto yours. His arms are tight around you, one hand cupping your head, bringing you close. His kiss is fervent, desperate but concentrated. 

You run your hands in his hair, and he chuckles gruffly, the sound muffled by your chasing mouth. You lose yourself in his embrace. You grip him tightly, breaching into his mouth, wanting to kiss him as much as wanting to be kissed by him. You could feel the beginning of a beautiful push and pull as your mouths move together, your bodies mold into each other’s. 

You want to kiss him forever, but some loud cheering nearby startles you slightly apart. Miguel is looking deeply into your eyes. He kisses you again, lets his forehead rest on yours when he pulls back. You’re smiling when you say, “You should probably get back. I’m sure people are looking for you.” He groans dramatically and hides in the crook of your neck. He kisses it before saying, “I just want to be with you.” 

You giggle, nuzzling his face with yours, holding him close, your hand in his hair.

“Yeah, me too.” He hums into your neck. He plants another kiss there, and one on your cheek on his way up, as he lifts his head again. His rough hands caress your face tenderly. 

“This is good,” he says simply. You laugh and nod. “Fuck ‘em. I’ll go over there at some point. Let’s just stay here a little while longer.”

“Okay,” you smile. 

Miguel leans back into you, kissing you and kissing you and kissing you. 

#miguel ohara #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x you #spiderman 2099 #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel ohara imagine #miguel ohara oneshot #miguel ohara fluff #miguel ohara angst #across the spiderverse #spiderman #atsv #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman fanfiction #slow burn #mutual pining #bbf!miguel #soccerplayer!miguel

[wosoluver]

I have a request for Lena Oberdorf x Bayern Reader.

On the topic of her transfer to Bayern. This request is full on fluff with maybe a little angst of them being apart.

Reunited

Can we please get one about Obi loving domestic life with Reader when they see each other (cooking together, cuddling while watching movies & even versing each other at video games). But misses it dearly when the two have to be apart for months on end due to their commitments with their respective clubs. Sure the two see each other during the national break but that’s not enough. So Obi decides to transfer to Bayern to be with Reader 24/7.

Reunited.

Lena x reader

"Finally reunited!" you said as you put your seatbelt on.

"Only for a little bit though." she said turning on the engine, to drive to her apartment from picking you up at the airport.

"Don't say that, we have a couple of days." you grabbed the hand she had in your thigh, intertwining your fingers and kissing the back of it.

"Sorry schatz. I swear, I'm very excited to spend time together."

You were a Bayern Munich player, and your girlfriend, well, she was one of your best rivals. She played for Wolfsburg.

You can say it took a lot of concessions, to make the relationship work.

"Okay love, I'm going to shower. Can you order dinner for us?"

"Yeah. Movie night or game night?"

"Game night!" you said disappearing into the bedroom's in suite.

"How does it feel to lose for the third time in a row?" she asked as you pouted your lips.

"You cheated this last round!"

"Well, all is fair in love and war." she tried to reason.

"And which one was it? Love or war?" she had distracted you, by removing her sweatshirt, staying in only a pair of shorts and a sports bra.

It would've been fine if she did it because she was hot. But she did it exactly to distract you. Flexing her muscles at any chance she got.

"Both. I wanted to win the game and I love to see you drooling." she said teasing you.

"I didn't drool!"

"You so did." she said pulling you to sit on her lap.

"Fine. How could I not? I'm dating the embodiment of a goddess."

That would have been enough, if she wasn't already turned on by you naturally.

"I think it's time we go to bed." she said with a naughty look on her face.

"Good Morning my love." she said kissing your temple. You opened your eyes, taking in Lena's sleepy and puffy face, as a ray of light came through the window.

"Good morning liebling. Slept well?"

"The best I have, since the last time we slept in the same bed." she would always bring up the fact you guys were separated by over 400 kilometers, constantly.

"In a couple of years, this will be our lives everyday." you reassured her, the best you could every time.

"I'll die of happiness when that happens."

This woman made your heart feel like it was about to explode.

"How about we cook some breakfast? I can make your favorite."

"Yes! I've been craving it." giving you a kiss before getting up. "Let's go."

"I've never seen you get up so fast in my life." as you followed her to get cleaned up.

"I don't know how you make this taste so good. Usually healthy versions of things taste like cardboard." as you prepared the pancake batter.

"We can't really break our diets, so. Also it's just a good recipe."

"Don't play it on the recipe. It's all you. Take a complement please."

"Thank you, schatz. How about we make a smoothie to complement it?"

"I'll start cutting the fruits." but before she could turn, you grabbed her attention.

"Hey..." you said dabbing a finger in the liquid and tapping it on her nose.

"Oh, it's on." letting out a mischievous grin.

You had the day all to yourselves. Not wanting to waste your time with anyone that wasn't each other, you decided upon watching movies. Only movies ever allowed to play by your girlfriend, was Disney movies. Not that you would ever complain. And you had chose the first one. Tangled.

Cuddling up to her. She was almost always the big spoon, only setting for other option when she felt extremely needy. So you laid on your back, as she placed her head on your chest, cuddling to your side the best she could, since you were a bit smaller than her.

You spent your time focusing partially on the movie and partially in gently combing her hair through you fingers and massaging her scalp.

"They are just like us. I'm obviously Flynn, good looking, funny, has a hot girlfriend."

"And I look nothing like Rapunzel."

"No, but you would probably defend yourself with a frying pan, if someone broke into the apartment."

She never failed at making you laugh. You loved that about her.

Every time you spent more time around eachother, she was more and more sure, of wanting to marry you. Of taking the decision to ask for a transfer.

She hadn't brought up yet. She was waiting till it felt like it was the right moment.

While you held each other under the blankets, you noticed she wasn't paying attention at all. So you brought up what you thought was bothering her.

"Aren't you supposed to be looking for a new apartment? I thought your lease was ending this summer."

"I've looked at some but, not one of them felt right." she mustered all her courage for her next words. It was now or now.

"It will only feel like a home, if I have you with me."

"What do you mean?"

"What if I moved to Munich?"

"That would be amazing! Are you planning to leave Wolfsburg next year?"

"Actually, I'm asking for a transfer over the summer."

"Are you messing with me?"

"I'm serious. All is fair in love and war, I want to move into a more competitive club and I want to be with you, close to you, not having to take a plane just to kiss you."

"You are?" You instantly jumped up on the bed.

"Yes." she said laughing as you jumped on the bed.

You landed on top of her. Pulling her into a hug.

"Love, I can't breathe properly." she said under you.

"Sorry, right, you have to be alive for that to happen." she pulled you back to her.

"I love you." she left a kiss on your forehead.

"And I love you." you said placing a kiss on her lips.

Hope you like it! Thanks for sending this in 🩷

#woso x reader #lena oberdorf #lena oberdorf x reader #dfb frauen #futfem

[letsquestjess]

The Bad Batch and A Day at the Beach (TBB x GN!Reader)

Summary: What could be more perfect than a day at the beach with the Batch?

Warnings: Going to put an 18+ on this one simply because Hunter likes to get a bit handsy.

A/N: Happy May 4th everyone! After the end of The Bad Batch, I got something together to spread some smiles. May the force be with you!

-- -- -- -- --

Hunter

The beach holds a special place in Hunter’s heart, especially the less-crowded, secluded spots. And spending a day at the beach with the person he loves? Perfection. He couldn’t think of a better way to make memories with loved ones than in the great outdoors, surrounded by the soothing sound of waves lapping the shore and the tranquil atmosphere. 

On a sunny afternoon, he proposed the idea of heading to the beach, and in no time, you found yourself descending the steps to the sand. He was the first to make it onto the smooth stretch, his eyes scanning for the perfect, remote spot. You followed along, the grains comfortably warm beneath your feet as you helped him set up the towels and the parasol. You’d had the foresight to put on your swimming gear before heading out, and as soon as Hunter saw you, he couldn’t resist touching you. He softly muttered compliments in your ear and hinted at going for a refreshing swim. The cooling waters beckoned you to stay a little longer, and you happily obliged, splashing each other until you were both completely drenched. The feeling of the water against your skin was pure bliss as you savoured it before drying off. Reluctant to leave, you both spent the evening strolling along the beach, feeling the sand between your toes, and your hand in his. Eventually, you found a flat rock to sit on, where you snuggled close and watched sun setting behind the crashing waves. 

Echo

Although Echo doesn’t have a strong dislike for the beach, it can be quite time-consuming due to the risk of grains interfering with his mechanics, so he prefers to plan and allow plenty of time before heading to the coast. He can be counted on to bring a beach bag packed with everything you could need. Towels, sun cream, bottles of water, insect repellent, a little first aid kit with bacta and plasters, spare hats because there is always someone who forgets theirs. He is well prepared. 

When you and Echo first went to the beach together, it took him a little while to unwind, but after a short time, he found his spot next to you on the sand and let out a sigh of relief. It had been so long since you had seen him relaxed, and you couldn’t help but notice how he serenely closed his eyes to bask in the warmth of the sun. Having discovered a hidden spot, he felt confident enough to remove his shirt, and mindful not to disturb him, you nestled yourself in his lap. With an arched eyebrow at your blatant staring, he locked eyes with you and pulled you into a tight embrace. He had an afternoon of relaxation and the love of his life in his arms. What more could he want?

Wrecker

Wrecker absolutely delights in days at the beach. He rarely asks, not wanting to inconvenience anyone, but when he does, he packs every fun activity he can think of to share with you and his family. He wants to create lasting memories and by the stars does he make those days extra special for you. 

During one outing to the beach, he insisted that you all play volleyball. The game proceeded with laughs and a few debates about the scoring, but you were all having fun. Wrecker sensed the opportunity for an equalising point and lifted you up as the ball soared over. You spiked it back down over the net and scored. Lowering you back down, he couldn’t contain his excitement and cheerfully jostled you. As soon as you touched the ground, he pulled you into a tender kiss that ignited a desire to score as many points as you could.

Crosshair

For the most part, Crosshair enjoys a day at the beach, but he has to take certain precautions to protect his sensitive eyes. As long as he has his super strength sunglasses, parasol, and cap, he’s ready for the sun. While he occasionally takes part in games, his favourite pastime is strolling hand in hand with you along the sand as if the entire galaxy exists solely for the two of you.

On one unforgettable occasion, he surprised you with a kite he had made. The breeze was just right, and he showed you how to operate it. With his guidance, you watched as the patterned fabric sailed against the clear blue sky. He was patient and gentle, and as you looked over your shoulder while he was explaining how to keep the strings steady, you noticed a calm reflected in his eyes. Catching him off guard, you kissed his cheek, and he lost his train of thought until you gently prompted him to continue his instructions. 

Tech

Although Tech enjoys scanning and researching the coastal life, tides, and flora, he prefers spending most of his beach days engaged in conversation with you. The peaceful atmosphere provides him with the ideal setting to sit and chat with you, free from any distractions, in a space where he feels at ease. 

During one of the brightest days on Pabu that year, Tech traipsed back from the shoreline with his trouser hems rolled up to dry off his feet. He stowed his datapad into the beach bag, and instead of rambling about his discoveries as he might have done in the past, he let you lie down in his lap. He soaked in the sunlight and grabbed some of the tiny fruit pieces you had packed. Popping one into his mouth, he put the next into yours. Throughout the afternoon, your conversation meandered from one topic to another, punctuated by bursts of laughter and little quips. Occasionally, Tech would surprise you with a gentle kiss on your palm as you reached up to brush sand off his cheek, or on your forehead as you shared a new childhood story with him. In his state of pure bliss, he showered you with kisses, relishing every moment of your perfect day together. 

#tbb #the bad batch #tbb x reader #the bad batch x reader #tbb x you #the bad batch x you #tbb hunter #tbb hunter x reader #tbb hunter x you #tbb echo #tbb echo x reader #tbb echo x you #tbb wrecker #tbb wrecker x reader #tbb wrecker x you #tbb crosshair #tbb crosshair x reader #tbb crosshair x you #tbb tech #tbb tech x reader #tbb tech x you

[jenniekrj]

“I said,delete it.”{Roommate!Dom!Hyunjin x Sub!F!Reader}

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Warnings:Mentions of drinking alcohol and smoking weed,blowjob,fingering,cum play,daddy kink,choking,spitting,riding,unprotected sex,spanking,creampie,oral sex and just straight up filth.

A/N:The tumblr algorithm works on reblogs,so please consider rebloging so it can reach more people,enjoy!! 💖

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hyunjin has been your roommate for over a year now and it has been great.Sure you didn’t know much about each other,but you still really liked his company around the place.

All you knew about him is that he would often go to parties,come home late at night drunk and high,bring girls over and have the nastiest sex with them,smoke lots of weed and just smoke in general,have parties at your shared apartment and cook really good food.He seemed very popular and like everybody just wanted to be around him.

At some point,all the pornographic moans that came out of his bedroom did annoy and bother your sleep,but his kindness and calm energy made up for all the disturbances.

Last week,he started following your Instagram.All he did was just view your stories and very rarely like anything you post.You guys never chatted on there,but why should you? You have his number and you literally live with the man.

Hyunjin was almost everyone’s type,he was muscular,tall,handsome,funny,smart,he had a few tattoos,charismatic,strong and he was two years older than you.Just your type.

It was your second year of college and you made a few friends,they were the best.On the other hand,Hyunjin had a whole group and there might be more that you don’t even know of.

Every weekend he would invite his friends over and pull an all-nighter with them.You knew his friends since they follow you on Instagram.You only ever said a simple ‘Hey,how are you guys?’ whenever you saw them.

-

It was a Saturday night and you were very bored,all you did all day was lay in your bed.You were thinking of ways to cure your boredom when you suddenly got the idea to post some pictures on your Instagram account,so you got up and picked an outfit from your closet.

After you put the outfit on you posed in front of the large mirror and snapped a couple of photos.You were wearing a baby blue lace mini crop top with a white mini skirt and some knee high socks.

You weren’t lying if you said you dressed this slutty just for Hyunjin to see,you had the most massive crush on the older and it wasn’t just some random crush,it was a sexual type of crush and you couldn’t help it.You posted the photos with the caption, “Is this sexy enough for you?” It was obvious you were trying to get someone’s attention,and it might’ve worked.Not even five minutes later and your post had so many likes and comments,people loved this look,especially Hyunjin.

You were scrolling around on your feed when a notification pops up,it’s from none other than Hyunjin,he sent you a DM.Of course,you rush to his profile and check the DM.

“Delete the post,I saw it already.”

Is all he said.

“What? Who said it was for you?”

You replied back,you wanted to seem hard to get even though this post way mainly for him to see.

“I said,delete it.”

He said before barging into your room.

“You really think I’m gonna let other people see what’s all mine,hmm Y/N?” Hyunjin said as he grabbed you by the arm and pinned you against the wall. “But,we’re not even dating,why do you care?” You replied back,trying to push back the urge to just kiss him right there.Your voice was shaking and almost filled with stutters,but you couldn’t show him your weak side,you wanted to see how far you could push him. “You belong to me,Y/N.I’ve seen and heard how you touch yourself to the sounds of me fucking other women,so don’t act all dumb right now.”

What? How’d he know? How’d he know you get wet by just the thought of him? It’s insane how well he knows you when you’ve barely spoken to each other,but you liked it.

“Mmm,how about you get the fuck out of my face?” You said,trying to seem intimidating,but Hyunjin wasn’t having it. “How about I fuck that attitude out of you? You’d like that,wouldn’t you?” It’s almost like he read you,and you enjoyed everything about it.

“Make me.”

“Bet.”

Was all he replied before smashing his lips onto yours,he pulled you closer into a rough but sloppy kiss and you just let him have you.His hands ran all over your body and your arms were wrapped around his neck,occasionally caressing his face and tangling your fingers in his hair.

Hyunjin moved his lips down to your neck,he slightly bit on your skin only to find your sweet spot,once he had found it he started sucking hard.He grabbed your ass,giving it a few light smacks.

“Get on the bed.” He said after he pulled away,signaling with his head towards your bed.You laid yourself onto your bed,with only your elbows holding you up.

Hyunjin dropped to his knees and kissed all over your inner thigh.You sighed a little before you had realized he was getting higher.He ran his fingers up and down across your clothed clit.He then slid your panties off and almost immediately attached his lips to your swollen cunt. “Fuck,you’re so wet.All for me,right?” Hyunjin said before licking up your folds while maintaining eye contact.You cried out a ‘yeah’ only for him to slap your thing and say “Use your words,princess.” Even though he knows you can’t utter a proper word,he still wanted to tease you a little. “Come on,don’t make me say it again.” Hyunjin says into your pussy which makes your head fall back. “Yes yes! Oh- please just go faster,I’ll do anything for you daddy,please.” You practically scream,not yet processing what you had just said.

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

“Since you’re so nice.”

He said before his tongue thrusted in and out of your pussy.It drove you insane at how good he was.Though,you were expecting this because of how loud the women were whenever he brought them over.

“I- cum please..” you managed to speak as you rolled your hips. “Go on,cum for me like a good slut would.” Hyunjin encouraged you and you came almost immediately after he spoke.You came all in his mouth and all over his face. “Fuck,you taste wonderful.” He praised.

He sat next to only to say, “Get on your knees.” and of course,you did as he said.You almost immediately dropped to your knees and started undoing his sweatpants.Once they were off,your eyes widened at how large he was and he just smirked.

“Too big? Or are you just weak?”

“Don’t fucking call me weak,Hyunjin.”

“Cutie.”

You rolled your eyes and started stroking his dick,he rolled his head back and his right hand went to your head. “Open up.” And you did.

You licked the slit on his tip as he groaned,you could tell how much he enjoyed this.Your eyes started getting watery as you slowly took his whole dick in. “Come on,be a good girl and take all of me.I know you can.” Hyunjin said with a moan coming after his words.

You started bobbing your head as tears fell down each one of your cheeks,even though it hurt you still loved it.His grip on your hair tightened as he moved your head closer to his veiny cock. “A-ah fuck,I’m so close.” He moaned out and came right after his announcement.

You felt your mouth get filled with a warm and thick liquid that tasted sweet.You were about to swallow,but Hyunjin stopped you and said, “Open your mouth.” You did as he said and he stuck two fingers in,he moved his fingers all around your cum-filled mouth and soon took them out,only to put them into his mouth and lick all of the cum off of his fingers. You swallowed and got up to sit next to him,but Hyunjin had other plans.He laid down and pulled you on top of him.

“Ride me.”

“What?”

“Come on,don’t run away from it.”

“I’m not,I just..”

“What? What is it,sweetheart?”

“I’ve never done this before.”

“It’s fine,I’ll teach you nice and slow.”

You nodded your head and positioned yourself above his still hard dick and slowly lowered yourself onto him.You gasped at how much he stretched you out and he just let out a dark chuckle. “Hyu-Hyunjin it’s too much.” You stuttered as you breathed out. “I know ma,but you can take,right? Aren’t you a good girl?” He said as he caressed your face. “Ye-yes I am!” You said as you started moving your hips.

“You like that?” Hyunjin said as he thrusted up into you and your response was just moans and whimpers. “I’ll take that as a yes.” He chuckled.You bounced up and down on his dick and all you could think of was how good it felt.

“Go faster,ma.” Hyunjin said after spanking your ass and grabbing onto your neck,basically chocking you.You tried to go faster even though your legs gave up a long time ago,but you went on and soon felt a knot in your stomach.His thrusts were becoming sloppier and you knew he was close. “I’m gonna c-cum,daddy.” You said. “Me too,princess.” Hyunjin said before you both came together.

His cum filled your cunt and now it was oozing out of your heated hole.Once you both came down from your high,you fell down onto him,your head now on his chest.Hyunjin flipped you over,now he was on top of you.He grabbed your jaw and said, “Open up,baby.” He spat in your mouth and you swallowed.Hyunjin leaned down and kissed you,but this time it was a passionate kiss,slow but still somewhat messy.Your tongues moved in sync as his hands slowly massaged your tits.He pulled away,leaving you panting and breathing heavily.

You laid there for a couple of minutes when it hit you that his friends are still coming over in a few minutes.Your eyes widened and you tried to push him off of you. “What’s wrong?” Hyunjin questioned. “Your friends,aren’t they coming?” You looked at him with a slight pout. “Yeah,but that’s nothing to worry about and you said you would do anything,

right my love?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

#blackpink #stray kids #hyunjin #hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin #enhypen #ateez #seventeen #shinee #nct 127 #tomorrow x together #kai #kpop #exo #aespa #monsta x #itzy #loona #nct #nct dream #nct u #nct wish

[lover-of-mine]

Welcome to the use of blue and green with 911 couples is not confined to clothing and how I believe this applies to buddie since season 2, a masterpost. (this does contain an explanation of the use of blue and green in the more obvious way, the clothes, so even if you don't believe the other elements of the scene part, this could still bring some clarity on the way blue and green is important)

Okay, so, after 706 a lot of people said they thought about me with the buddie/bathena blue and green scene, and I LOVE THAT, but a few people also came to ask me to explain more about the blue and green in general and why that is important and I realized my blue and green thoughts are scattered into multiple posts because I did figure out more stuff since I wrote the first one and season 7 is giving me more things to support the 2 main color theory theories I have when it comes to buddie/Buck, so I decided I need to write one long post about it all, including thoughts on 706 specifically.

Okay, so easy pattern to spot first, the blue and green thing is used with a lot of couples throughout the show, core couples, adjacent couples, random people in calls, the blue and green is used in a major piece of clothing in a couple, a shirt, a jacket, a dress, after s6 the use of pants was introduced more explicitly, and that has transferred to s7, but it is something heavily used since s2 (I can't find a conclusive example in s1 and the first obvious example is madney's first scene in 206) (this will have a bunch of tiny images because I'm trying to stay within the image limit, but if you click on them you can zoom in if tumblr doesn't decide to hellsite, I made them high quality enough)

And it is not just about meant-to-be couples, it's literally just a way to exemplify romantic connection. And while it is used a lot with most of the couples we see, the easiest couple to track is madney, since they have a lot of blue and green scenes, tracking back all the way down to their first scene, but bathena also have quite a few scenes. I love the scene at the station in 308 (last column, 3rd row down) because the cutout of kid Bobby makes it so there's a double blue Bobby there.

So the clothes element is very easy to track. It is a very real aspect of the show. And that is interesting when you consider the actual color theory aspect of it, because blue and green are analogous colors, which means they are right next to each other in the color wheel, and that's a color scheme used to create a harmonious look, it's about cohesion, creating visual unity, and it is what this accomplishes, the couples look balanced even if we don't fully register why, they just naturally work well together and that translates even if you don't know color theory.

This is the part we know exists in the show, but the thing is, I don't believe the show only uses that with the clothes, and again, madney is the easiest way to track that.

I noticed this while making a 512 set for the hiatus rewatch since I was focusing on the scenery to pick the shots I wanted because something about that episode is that it is green in nature since it is a Saint Patrick's Day episode. But everything about madney that episode is blue and green even when madney isn't dressed in blue and green. Pretty much everything about it has blue or green elements.

Maddie is wearing blue in the video, Chim is wearing green when he watches it, she's in blue while she's alone (even her hospital gown is blue, and that's not a common thing for the show), he's in green when he's alone, so we are still in the color scheme, there is a lot of green in the background that makes Chim and his vest stand out, we have green walls, that green bench, the blue red sox merch on the walls. But when they meet again, they are in neutral-colored clothing, contrasting with the background, and when Maddie tells Chim she wants to go home, both of them have blue and green shirts that are covered by a jacket, so the blue and green are not a focal point even if it's there, probably because they are not back in a place where they can get back together yet, and they are explicitly in blue and green in 601 when they do get back together.

They also did the whole make the episode blue and green with 706.

The backgrounds are very blue or green or both, a lot of the people are wearing blue or green, Maddie's phone is green, Chim's car is blue, there is a lot of blue and green happening there.

Something else about madney being blue and green is that their house has a lot of blue and green decorations. So, I definitely wanna say that the blue and green are being completed by other elements of the scene.

But I obviously have examples with other couples.

While doing the rewatch sets for 606 I noticed there are a few examples using Henren and other elements of the scene, 606 is also the episode that allowed me to include pants into this madness.

The thing about henren is that they don't have a lot of blue and green scenes, the 2 we had before s7, because s7 did gave us a few more, are in when they decide on fostering and when Eva comes back the last time, but since their color palette is based on patterns a lot, I decided maybe I should expand my definition of what counted, that gives us one of the flashbacks, because Karen's pants are patterned in green and Hen's shirt is patterned in blue, they also have Hen in green pants for one of the dates and there's the blue lighting, there's the scene with Hen in a blue hoodie and the green background. So more elements of the scene were being employed there.

Another couple is Eddie and Shannon. I will be honest, it took me a WHILE to clock they had an explicit blue and green moment in the form of Chris' birth. BUT, looking at them season 2 and the flashbacks in Eddie begins, they have moments where Eddie is blue or green and Shannon has blue and green detailing, her jewelry, her nails, her car, background of a scene. Also when they are fighting about Eddie reenlisting, they keep switching holding blue and green stuff. Shannon has a blue cup, Eddie is holding a green bottle, the rag on Eddie's hand is blue, the oven mitt next to Shannon is green, so even though Shannon is never a fully blue or green character, she always has blue and green accents.

Randon addon, but Thomas and Mitchell, the gay couple from Buck, Actually that is the couple that shows Buck what love is supposed to look like, they have a lot of blue and green details in their montage, the car, the driveway, the transition from a green cake to a blue cake, I just love that.

Now that we have all of this established, let's talk blue and green applied to buddie.

So, using the established, just the top, point of focus of the outfit, buddie has 3 blue and green outfits, technically 4, but we will talk about the hangar later, because I have a lot to say lol, the loft scene in 613, the station scene in 617, the hangar scene in 704, and the dispatch scene, the street scene, and the wedding in 706 (I will also talk more about 706 later)

One thing about buddie in blue and green is that they tend to have similar shades to past scenes with past love interests.

I don't know why they repeated the shooting combo, I guess it's just because Taylor's greens tended to be less earthy than Eddie's usual shades, but, I was scrolling through bucktaylor blue and green scenes to see if I could find a match for the hangar, and I do think that works, but I was fully ready to go full delusional here and say Buck's hoodie in 706 matches Shannon's nails in 207, because they do, BUT, that one seems to be a double kill and I don't have to sound all that crazy, because it seems like it is a bucktaylor combo from 509 too (the lighting on the loft is obviously different from two scenes in natural sunlight, but they are similar enough)

(Wait last minute addition that you don't know it's a last minute addition and can read more about here, but all thought s6, Buck and Eddie have matching blue and green phone cases, and the 706 scene seems to also somewhat match the shade of the phone cases from last season)

And these are the explicit ones, I would say the 706 scene is even more on the nose since bathena are also in blue and green right next to them.

Now, for other elements of the scene tho, we can go back down to the beginning. As in the you can have my back any day scene.

(Yes, I know the blue is because of the sirens, and it will eventually be red, but since red is such a prominent color for Buck, I can't really mind that all that much because I also have a color-theory theory that deals with the idea that Buck is red in scenes about doing the right thing about love and what more right for Buck than Eddie?)

But since I'm trying to stay within the image limit, let's rapid-fire some scenes here. If we ignore the uniform (I am choosing to because they don't have a lot of room with the uniform, it is what it is, and sometimes a scene will happen in the firehouse) Eddie is wearing blue after the tsunami and the will reveal, Buck's wearing blue after Chim goes after Maddie, Buck's wearing blue in the kitchen talk in 511 (and yes he's wearing blue because Taylor is wearing green, but he's still in blue), the shirt Buck has under the red jacket during the breakdown is blue, Buck is wearing something blue(ish) when they talk about the couches, Eddie is wearing blue on the poker date, Buck is wearing green on the cemetery. In the Carla scene, when Eddie shows up, they're not in the kitchen, and the backgrounds behind them are somewhat neutral. But funnily enough, it's only green behind Eddie there. (if you read my eddie fell first essay, you know I will die saying this is the moment that Eddie is done for so, love when an insane thought solidifies another lol), after the tsunami, we have green scrubs dude behind Eddie when Eddie sees Buck, even though most scrubs in the show are blue and everything behind Eddie is white, we have Buck and the blue of the tent, when they turn around, there's the green thingie behind Eddie and Chris, and the scrubs behind Buck are blue. Grocery store, the toilet papers behind Buck are blue and the outside along with the flowers behind Eddie are very green. Shooting, whatever that green thing behind Eddie is, Mehta's uniform, more blue uniforms, and a green medical person. 511 I just think are funny because Buck is wearing blue in the kitchen but everything about Eddie is white, and that's a fun contrast to the Carla scene and 517 is funny the way one side of Chris' room is mostly green and red and the other is yellow and blue and how Buck is on the green side and Eddie is on the blue (including his shirt). And the poker date, Eddie is in blue and the tables and chairs are green.

Considering using the pants, we also have the post-tsunami talk, the will reveal, and the 504 talk where Eddie has green pants on. Sure, the post tsunami talk, Eddie is both blue and green and there are no blue elements on Buck, but the will reveal, Eddie is both blue and green and the wall behind Buck is blue, and the 504 talk, Eddie has green pants and Buck has a blue hoodie on, considering the way the season 6 had the pants being in used with henren in 606 and with the girls from the oil well (both queer couples, I might add), I kinda wanna say that the 504 talk is traditionally blue and green lol

We also have my Roman Empire, aka the cemetery scene.

Because here's the thing, the sky is only blue behind Eddie and Buck is dressed in green. And also considering the way that they were being pretty consistent with Eddie being green and Buck being blue and the general breakup feelings surrounding the cemetery scene, the fact that bucktaylor switched colors mid-relationship, aka, when Buck tells her he kissed someone else, this is very interesting to me, because the colors in that scene feel like something that was accomplished on post-production, so they are like that on purpose.

This is also something that is used in the gym scene in 705, because Buck is wearing a green coat and Eddie completes the blue and green with the towel and the bottle, and considering green is Buck there is something wrong color and Buck is beating himself up for lying to Eddie, the switch in colors when applied to Buck usually means something.

With all this, let's talk blue and green in 706. Bathena is in 2 different blue and green outfits, the Buckley parents are in blue and green, bucktommy and buddie.

The bucktommy blue and green is very interesting because for one I had to swatch the color of Tommy's shirt and also because when talking about the blue and green in general, the shades tend to match, so to have Buck in a very light mint green and Tommy in a very dark, almost black blue is... a choice, especially considering that bucktommy did match during their date in 705, and Buck is in green, Buck in green is never a good sign (meta on that here), and considering Buck switches colors during crisis, I'm curious as to why they already switched the colors for them, since green is Buck's breakup color.

And the buddie of it all, well, they spent the whole episode matching, literally with the costumes for the bachelor party, but they also stay in their blue and green combo for the duration.

And to have buddie matching even in the bachelor party when the dude Buck is dating is there during the madney wedding episode is definitely a choice, even more, when you consider the way that Eddie is the one who is supposed to be the third wheel, in the costume design of it all Tommy was the one who was the odd one out, and considering the general married behavior buddie was exhibiting during the episode, it's a choice.

And since I'm already here, let's talk hangar scene.

For starters, with this scene, we had a blue and green scene for buddie 3 episodes in a row, which is something on its own, BUT, I will say that I watched the clip of this scene before 704 aired and said "oh, buddie just went canon", because here's the thing, for starters they are in blue and green and Tommy is in shades of beige, so the color on their clothes is the focus, but they are not really the focus, and they do match, but we have to consider the way Buck is wearing a maroon hoodie under his blue and Eddie is wearing a black jacket over his green. That clearly meant some sort of development was coming they're just not fully there yet. For me at least. Because the show has Eddie in the army green armor and Buck in the red jacket of love, and to have Eddie in the army green but with something over it, not using it to protect himself is something, and Buck not being in his brighter reds is also something.

To have this was very interesting for me, Eddie most of all because he's wearing black a lot and I have theories but I can't figure out why. But those are all colors used when Eddie is protecting himself and Buck is trying to understand something, so interesting. And then there's the actual dialogue of the scene "wait, you're not thinking about jumping ship?" "uh, no, I'm just, you know, keeping my options fluid." There is literally no more on the nose way to say don't jump ship than to literally have Eddie say don't jump ship. All that paired with the very obvious blue and green, definitely meant a plan was just set in motion for me.

I will link my Buck and the use of green and red again if you feel like reading more color theory theories. And also a theory about the use of blue and yellow this season.

Anyway, I think this is all, if you read this I love you 💜

tagging the ones of you who asked me about this or interacted with the post I asked about this: @dangerpronebuddie @missmagooglie @steadfastsaturnsrings @millymaki @inell @bella-bothered-and-bewildered @sparkedblaze @frihetstyrke @ilostyou @your-catfish-friend @estheticpotaeto @marmarthehatterverse

#this is SO LONG OH DAMN #i need to sleeeeep #but yeah #heres the long ass blue and green post #911 #911 spoilers #911 meta #buddie #buddie meta #oh final count of screenshots before i narrowed down to this ones was 302 :)

[jeeaark]

in a timeline where the illithid invasion never happen, a world where the absolute never existed, what would greygold's life be like? or maybe even lae'zel's? a world where they stumble upon each other without all the destruction around them.

The funny thing is.

Without squids trying to ruin their life, Greygold would have never discovered the power of friendship

Worse even, they'd still be a dispassionate lone ranger with questionable bird ethics surviving the wilderness and living off raw eggs like a weirdo.

Meanwhile, Lae'zel is still a Vlaakith devotee and if they stumble upon each other without a plot to drive them to work together and get to know each other... Bad things would happen! Someone would probably die. Most likely Greygold. But! Lets say. A plot did happen.

Buckle up buckaroos. This train thought went off the rails enough that I had to draw pics. Faster than writing out a 13k+ fic (for me anyway).

Let's say Greygold got the 'steal the githyanki egg ' job from Esther. Let's say they succeeded in sneaking in and out without too much of a fuss (mostly involving cat familiar distractions). And something Unfortunate happens before Greygold could complete the quest, leaving Greygold with an egg that eventually hatches:

And the githyanki child is not your average run-of-the-mill space lad either (Who loves eating raw eggs now too. It's fine. Builds character. Probably) But uh yeah, that whoosh accidentally cosmos-signaled all the githyankis and Vlaakith to which she reacts with a 'Wtf? Did anybody just get Prince of the Comet vibes from that? With a "I love egg" aftertaste? No? Just me? Hrm.... I do currently have a lot of free time on my hands....Fetch me that child. I want to study him like a bug. I'm suddenly feeling... Creatively ambitious with a side case of nefarious today. Might bury an old big secret if that kid is replacement-viable.' Thus search patrols investigate-

And never return.

After the first surprise patrol disaster, Greygold has been putting their danger ranger skills to good use via setting up counter-ambushes for all the constant surprise attacks. Classic "who is hunting who?" ordeal.

Nonetheless, there is more of them than there is of Greygold, so they resort to hiding in the Underdark after realizing the githyankis don't have dark vision and it's more environmentally dangerous than the surface. It is also a fun learning experience for the kid. Search patrols continue to never return. Until-

Lae'zel can't help but notice her mission orders do not add up and her rationality has a mighty need to make sense of it before solving problems with immediate hostility. Meanwhile this has been Greygold's first super tiny dose of kindness involving people interactions in years. Instant crush. Chase Shenanigans Ensue. Until child makes their first hunting trap. Instead of catching food, Lae'zel is captured. It also turns out the over-the-top trap involves sinking sand and a nest of Ankhegs (giant burrowing man-eating bugs). Greygold tries to help Lae'zel. For Reasons.

Something akin to mutual respect is formed. Stuck working together. Get to know each other. Discuss contradictions with mission. Verdigris worms his way into Lae'zel's heart (as much as she loathes his name). Escape the Ankheg nest which had terribly escalated because a giant fire ant invasion decided to overrun the ankheg nest at the same time.

Everyone is covered in bug guts after this.

Something something bond over experience enough to trust and listen to each other's opinions. Short Rest. Negotiate. Discuss plans to investigate Da Truth together. Shenanigans Ensue. Then Bad Shenanigans Ensue. Argument Ensues, resulting in Lae'zel Splitting Off. Verdigris disagrees with this approach and chases Lae'zel in order to bring back. Unanticipated Ambush happens at most inopportune moment. Greygold is Captured.

But they escape. Not before confronting Vlaakith's projection and discovering her plans and secrets thanks to one extremely curious Verdigrisgold (Verdi for short omg so long) with ridiculous super psionic powers.

And then they coincidentally interwovenly meet/save/recruit their bg3 companions anyway because there are no mindflayer abduction to stall certain ill-fated situations from happening to certain Companions-to-be and I need for them to be OKAY. So. Greygold discovers the power of friendship again. But is also now co-parenting a fate-of-the-githyanki-freedom child with Ex-Vlaakith-devotee Lae'zel. How's that for an AU timeline?

#What the hell do I even tag this as #bg3 spoilers #I GUESS ??????? #lae'zel #Greygold #Bg3 AU #The only reason Greygold even knows that what Verdigris is is because of their craftsman background. #Originally was GreenGold. But. Easy Weed Joke. #Somehow. The Emperor is also involved -Somehow- #I am now suddenly realizing that I accidentally made up a mandalorian AU.... HRM. Still a fun thought.

[ramblingoak]

Getting Home Safe

Mushy May In Lucifer's Hollow: Day 4 - First Aid

Secondo x Dewdrop

This fic is set in an alternate universe in a town called Lucifer's Hollow. For Mushy May I'll be using the prompts to post little snippets of life for the humans and ghouls that live there 💙 Thank you to @forlorn-crows for putting Mushy May together!

~ In Lucifer's Hollow Secondo is the Fire Chief and Dewdrop teaches art at the high school. ~

Warnings: angst regarding someone getting hurt but otherwise just fluff, a little suggestive so nsfw, 18+ mdni, 670 words, thank you to @ghuleh-recs for the dividers and @foxybouquet for helping with Dewdrop's nickname (fuocolino means "little flame")

“You should’ve gone to the hospital.”

Secondo hummed, tilting his head back when Dewdrop’s light fingers continued to clean the cut on his head.  He could feel the irritation coming off the fire ghoul in waves.  As soon as Secondo had gotten home and Dewdrop had seen the bandage he hadn’t stopped grumbling. 

“I wasn’t going to drive all the way to the hospital, fuocolino.”  He snaked an arm around the ghoul’s slender waist, trying to bring him closer but the ghoul wouldn’t allow it.  “Aether took care of it just fine.”

“It needs stitches.”  Dewdrop slipped away from Secondo’s grasp to search through the first aid kit.  “We could call Omega I’m sure he wouldn’t mind doing it.”

“Omega is a veterinarian and in case you haven’t noticed I am a man.”

“Trust me I’ve noticed.”  A spark of something flitted between them.  Secondo debated on getting up and hauling his fire ghoul to their bed but he stayed still, knowing Dewdrop wouldn’t be happy until he’d said his piece.  “I just wish you’d be more careful.  You’re the Fire Chief aren’t you supposed to stay behind a desk all day?”

There was an edge to his tone that Secondo didn’t like so he stood up, pleased when Dewdrop finally allowed himself to be tugged close.  

“My job is to keep this town safe, sÌ?”  He raised an eyebrow when Dewdrop stayed silent, only continuing when the ghoul gave a small nod.  “Sometimes that means I have to go out there myself.”

“Yeah, yeah I know.”  Dewdrop relaxed slightly, leaning against Secondo more.  “I don’t need the lecture grandpa.”

“Nonno?”  Secondo said the word with a playful growl, sliding his hands just below Dewdrop’s ass and lifting him to set him on the table behind him.  “Che monello sei.”

“Did you just call me a brat?”  The amber eyes of his ghoul seemed to light up from within and his tail started tapping against the tabletop in agitation.  “You better watch it, I've been doing Duolingo an-mmph!”

Dewdrop’s lips were warm, just shy of being hot.  The inside of his mouth even more so when Secondo swept his tongue in.  His fuocolino channeled his irritation into returning the kiss, the claws on the tips of his fingers digging into Secondo’s shoulders as he held on.  After what happened today Secondo just wanted to lose himself in his lover, all he wanted to do was carry him to bed and bury himself inside of him.  But he understood Dewdrop’s worry, it was something the ghoul had brought up when they first began dating.  

His fuocolino didn’t want to lose another loved one. 

Eventually they had to pull away for air, both of them taking deep breaths as their foreheads rested against each other.  Secondo carded the fingers of one hand through Dewdrop’s hair, marveling like he always did at the soft, golden strands.  

“The only thing I want to do at the end of the day is come home to you.”  Dewdrop smiled at Secondo’s words, his tail wrapping around Secondo’s waist.  “Even if it’s to you being cross with me.”

“Well sometimes you deserve it.”  

Secondo just smiled softly but that was enough for Dewdrop to see he agreed with him.  After one last kiss the older man pulled away with a sigh. 

“Go ahead and call Omega if that will make you feel better.”  He rolled his eyes at the ghoul’s triumphant grin but in truth he was willing to do whatever it took at that moment to make him happy.  “But I think he’s on a date with Terzo so prepare to be bitched at in Italian.”  

Dewdrop gave him a feral grin before hopping off the table and going for his phone.  

“There’s something you should have figured out by now, nonno.”  Secondo just raised an eyebrow when Dewdrop moved close again, his phone ringing in his hand and his eyes gleaming with mischief.  “The Emeritus brothers don’t scare me.”

If you'd like to be added/removed from the tag list (or if I accidentally left your name off) of this fic or any of my others please leave a comment or send me a dm! Thank you 💙

My Masterlist ~ My Archive of our Own ~ My Ko-Fi Tip Jar

More snippets from this verse are on my masterlist under "Ongoing Series"!

Previous Mushy May days: 1 / 2 / 3

#secondo x dewdrop #secondo fanfiction #the band ghost fanfiction #ghost band fanfic #mushy may 2024 #tales from lucifer's hollow #oakie's writing

[nicksbestie]

Touch Starved - N. Sturniolo

(headcanons!)

Summary : nick not being used to having access to such loving touch, but not being able to stay away from it <3

Warnings : none!

Pairing : Nick Sturniolo/Male!Reader (romantic)

A/N : i love this idea <3 discussed with @nickgetsmewetter

~ he denies wanting a hug when you first asks him, but seconds later he's changing his mind and pulling you close

~ he's the littlest spoon, feeling safe wrapped up in someone else's arms

~ he begs for you not to get up and leave in the mornings, even when you have to work

~ he becomes the reason that they're late to filming if they have recording to do in the morning because he refuses to get out of your arms

~ he's obsessed with the way that you gently rub his back, short nails softly running up and down, to the point that he never sleeps with a shirt on anymore

~ he never knew that he loved having his hair played with until you were gently running your hands through it one night, and now he asks for it to fall asleep every night

~ he doesn't sleep well unless he's in your arms, regardless of where he is. he could take a nap in the car and as long as you're there with him, it's the best sleep he's ever had

~ he is always holding your hand, regardless of where you two are

~ he's always sitting next to you, legs touching if he can't be any closer

~ he always plays with your rings, spinning them around your fingers, tangling his fingers with yours

~ he loves when you gently trace his tattoos with your fingers

~ soft massages between the both of you, each one of you loving the way the other's hands can perfectly massage the knots of tension away

~ he leans on your shoulders when he gets so tired that he has to be helped to bed

~ deep kisses, always. not even because you want it to go further, simply because he can't get enough of feeling your skin against his

~ eye contact from across rooms, or even when you're filming, and you can see how desperate he is to be touching you in some way

~ he blushes so hard every time you hold his face in your hands, which is always accompanied by telling him just how beautiful he is

~ when you read a book he reads it too, because he's resting his head on your shoulder

~ he loves when you lay your head on him and tell him all about your day

~ when you're cuddling, you always leave soft kisses on his shoulders and he loves them so much more than he'll ever admit

~ if he wakes up and you're not in bed, he'll come find you and bring you back to sleep because he needs to be held now that he's used to the feeling

taglist : @blahbel668 @mattsgirlfrieeend @69isabella69 @mayhem-72 @iculdstealurgf @iluvm4ttsturni0l0

@sturnioloslife @heartsforkarina @nervousrebelglitter @sturniclo @elliegrace-7 @mattsturnioloisbae @strnilo

@dazsha19 @patscorner @hailee22sstuff @tworosesblackthorn @h3arts4harry @getosuckers @knhxa @scoobydoosnack

@tapesmatts @st7rnioioss @st7rnioiossblog @jamiesturniolo @sofie-1 @muwapsturniolo @graysturns @certifiednatelover

@bitchydragonparadise @haunted-headset-alt @skyslondon @matthewsturniolosgirlfriend101 @alivzstuff

~ if you'd like to be added to my taglist, click here!

~ my inbox is open, come chat!!

- i’m also tagging @thenickgirl bc i think she’d enjoy this

#nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #nick sturniolo x reader #nick #nick sturniolo x you #nicolas sturniolo smut #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo imagine #nick sturniolo smut #nick x y/n #nick x reader #nicolas sturniolo headcannons #nicolas sturniolo x y/n #nicolas sturniolo oneshot #nicolas sturniolo fanfic #nicolas sturniolo imagine #nicolas antonio sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo x reader #nicolas sturniolo x you

[liketwoswansinbalance]

CONSIDER: Shadows and Light

The Symbolism Surrounding Rhian, Rafal, and the Pan

Fun fact: Under certain conditions, a flame will not cast a shadow.

⸻

As we saw in Rise, Rhian could turn into a golden glow, turn into light, his non-human form, just as Rafal could turn into a shadow.

And those facts bring me to how the Pan subplot and the brothers' main plot might parallel each other more than we may think.

That Hook had to kill the Pan’s shadow was probably no accident. It likely couldn't have been a coincidence—it has to be a casual quality of the magic system in SGE and Peter Pan lore in general, no doubt.

So, we have: killing the shadow (the Pan's or symbolically, Rafal himself).

Rhian killed the shadow to his light.

And besides, an excess of light eradicates all shadows, and fire, specifically, can cast very distorted shadows because it's always in motion, and therefore, it's restless. This could mean fire as a light source could affect the shadow's "power," its appearance, just as Rhian, like a fairy-tale Nemesis (perhaps?), might have weakened Rafal as Rhian became stronger, and that Rhian had been a force that changed or warped Rafal as a person, while also becoming colder himself. Meanwhile, Rafal's hair curled slightly and he gained more color and warmth to his complexion towards the climax of their tale.

I wonder if, in getting his magic back from Hook when it was released, Rhian had been further corrupted or overpowered enough, to overpower Rafal (while, all the while, the Storian had been stripping Rafal of the magic he held) because it didn’t dissipate by itself, with the loss of his immortality(?). Hook could have been acting like a temporary storage unit for that magic, until it returned, meaning the Storian may not have been able to rescind it from Rhian directly.

(And did Kyma release Rhian's magic when it was transferred to her? Or did it just disappear/dissolve without returning to its owner?)

Then, we can ask ourselves: what was the only move that could kill Pan? Somehow, magically killing his shadow. His life source. The apparent source of his immortality.

And, Rhian killing the source of his former immortality (his brother, and as a result, their bond along with Rafal's death)? Well, that’s killing a shadow, too.

Thus, the two plots line up exactly.

Rafal was once Rhian's shadow, in a sense, the person who stayed by him, who saved him again and again. Thus, Rhian destroyed himself, to an extent, by killing that shadow. He not only killed his life source, the love that kept him alive, by severing the twins' bond, but lost a part of his identity when he killed Rafal. Thus, he ages. Like the Pan as he died, Rhian was no longer a perpetual youth, no longer a young "lost boy."

And sometimes, Rhian's shadow strayed too far and left him (Rafal deserting the School at the start), just as Pan’s shadow isn’t always right by the Pan himself. The Pan's shadow had a life and will of its own, seemingly, like Rafal did.

Rafal getting his own life, by venturing out, beyond the School, was one step away from having his identity always tied to Rhian. Maybe, just maybe, Rafal wasn't inseparable, inconceivable without Rhian (the light source), his other half. But, Rafal always did revolve around Rhian (when Rafal had his few, less selfish moments). Because, he simply can’t be brought up or thought of alone, at least not in the tales, in their world. One brother's presence always summons the other's to mind, when you talk about them. That’s how locked together, how insoluble their combined identity was, or plural roles were. The shadow was tethered to his object. They can’t be torn apart, not even in memory, which makes the nature of the tales themselves all the more reductive, dehumanizing, even.

#school for good and evil #rise of the school for good and evil #fall of the school for good and evil #rafal #rafal mistral #rhian #rhian mistral #the pan #peter pan #sge #sfgae #the school for good and evil #tsfgae #rotsge #rotsfgae #fotsge #fotsfgae #my post #my theories #my analysis #symbolism #imagery

[blueroyalgirl]

5yearsofRWRB

👔 chapter 4 🎉

Please be so serious, Alexander 😳 *personal* SENSUAL? Have we asked ourselves what the actual fuck as of late?!

Half naked selfies from bed, and a little autoerotic asphyxiation. Jesus christ on a bloody bicycle! 😫

This feels so child-like 🥺 But he’s talking about hiding away from a whole world’s scrutinisation. And soothing himself between huge responsibilities that he doesn’t even really want to do. The way he says ‘Alex’ at the end is so pleading with exhalation.

Absolutely despicable behaviour! Not only is it super shitty to make Alex feel like he’s less than in those moments but each parent is saying, “you are your father’s son” in this moment, not mine, and vice versa.

They have both abandoned him throughout his life. Oscar abandoned him without notice when he was a teenager and now the way Alex operates in life is informed by that abandonment, showing up in his relationships or lack thereof (and they suffer because of his fears, understandably). His mother abandons him when she puts on her president mask, and she has to put the world before him. And again when she exploits his dreams for her campaign and calls him Diaz when she’s pissed off.

The perfect amount for someone. That kind of stillness. Being able to just breathe around someone effortlessly and not mask, or try, try, try because you’re just… good enough. Henry listened to Alex and somehow inferred his needs, and found the right words.

I really liked this insight into how each of them see their parents, how aware of everything they are, and the biases they have.

June seems closer to Oscar and feels sidelined/let down by Ellen. She also can see much clearer when their mom exploits them, and pushes too much. Alex still feels hurt, and abandoned by his dad (rightly so), but would also just love for things to go back to normal (sans fighting). 🥺

His mom’s the president and it seems like he believes she did the best she could for the most part, knowing she had to sacrifice to get to where she is (to do good in the world, something he wants to emulate). It’s also often easier to side with/feel closer with the parent that stays (even when they disappoint you) and Ellen pushes him, helps him, something he thrives on. And like he said, Oscar has a more laid-back approach.

I got to this part and was all overcome with, “I fucking love the way he speaks” like, THAT’S MY BFF HENRY?! 😍🥺💙

After sitting with the book in my mind for so long, and reading so much fanfic, and watching the movie so many times, and then coming back to the source, it’s just so comforting knowing their distinct voices now. When you read something for the first time you’re learning them filled with so much anticipation and that’s exciting, and then there’s also this feeling of: the comforting sound of familiar voices that warm you up, and make you laugh, stir the butterflies, make you cry, thrill you, and bring immense, insurmountable joy! ✨💕

Tipsy, plump lips, flushed cheeks Henry hanging onto his bottle, clinging to wherever Alex is as he dances with other people.

Alex likes to show off for Henry while he watches 😇

I washed my hands of us at the club

You made a mess of me

I pictured you with other girls in love

Then threw up on the street 😭🤮

Alex feeds/thrives on other people’s energy.

Henry drains.

I love this moment so much. It’s so telling of how Alex feels already, even though he doesn’t seem to realise it himself. They’ve already trauma bonded, they’re already friends. He’s infatuated with him and can’t wait to talk to him at all hours of the day and night. He’s enchanted by him when he sees him for the first time in person again, compelled by him almost as he puts on a show for him, their eyes always lingering on each other. And now under the moonlight, after admiring his beauty, he just… want to be there for Henry. Absorb the weight of what sits heavy on his shoulders. Make him feel… light again. ✨

Soft lips, soft curls. Nobody kisses like you. <3

*screams*

(Poor Henry, running away in the snow…)

#rwrb book #rwrb #firstprince #red white and royal blue #alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor #henry fox #rwrb chapter 4 #5yearsofRWRB #alex and henry