#spent so much of the night counting the moments until i could get back to playing xenoblade 3 without seeming rude about it

[thefrogdalorian]

The Best of Both Worlds: Chapter Thirteen

Din Djarin x F!Reader Modern!AU

❁ Series Masterlist ❁ My Masterlist ❁ Read on AO3 ❁

Summary: The happiness you feel in response to a question Din posed to you is somewhat clouded by lingering doubts. Yet your affection for each other helps you to push those emotions down, until a weekend spent at his cottage changes everything...

Word Count: 13.1k ❁ Rating: Mature ❁ Content Warnings: 18+MDNI for smut (oral sex, M and F receiving), mild child sickness, angst... lots of angst... ❁ Author's Note: Thank you @decembermidnight for being my beta! This was a monster chapter so I really appreciate it. Cannot believe it had been almost a month since my last update for this fic!! I am really keen to get this one finished soon but I could also see myself writing another 100k so... we'll see how it goes haha. Sorry in advance, it hurt to write... but I do hope you enjoyed it...

13. The Storm [Reader's POV]

Being away from Din was agonising. It felt as though every second you were not in his presence only widened the chasm in your chest which had opened the minute you parted from him. 

Still, you had the comfort of basking in his memory and the warmth that spread across your skin whenever you thought of him.

Every time he crossed your mind or you saw something that reminded you of him, you were unable to prevent a grin from spreading across your features. Knowing that he was all yours, that you had taken the step of actually calling him your boyfriend made you feel positively giddy.

Each memory you had with Din was precious, something to be treasured.

Well, almost all. 

There was one irritating little moment which did not provoke a pleasant reaction. A moment that kept replaying over and over in your mind. The doubt and insecurity it provoked kept gnawing away in the pit of your stomach. Try as you might, you were unable to banish it from your thoughts. 

That one particular moment seemed to play on an endless loop in your mind in the days following your excursion to the park. 

No matter how much you tried to banish it from your thoughts, you could not stop thinking about the way Din had shifted all of his weight onto one leg, folded his arms and sighed when you had suggested hiring the rowboat. For some reason, that particular mannerism triggered something in your brain. A reminder of sorts; a flicker of recognition, a memory of a man that you had never even met.

It was like the strangest sense of de ja vu, except you had never crossed paths with the man who Din bore a striking resemblance to at that precise moment… because he wasn’t real. 

Nevertheless, for one brief moment as you stood begging Din to acquiesce and hire a boat with you, the way he moved was so scarily like Mando that you had almost opened your mouth to question it. 

However, as you thought about it over the next few days, you were relieved you hadn’t made a fool out of yourself and questioned him. You would have looked beyond ridiculous.

There was simply no way that your Din could be The Mandalorian. 

You were certain that it was just your overactive imagination playing a trick on you, especially since Mando had been on your mind recently. 

When Din had called to apologetically inform you that he would be unable to join you on that Friday night, you had not hesitated to dive back underneath the comfort blanket that was your favourite show.

You had slipped back into your old ways and used the show you once watched religiously to soothe your soul during a time of crisis. Watching The Mandalorian in your luxurious hotel room on an enormous television that made you feel like you were at the cinema had calmed your anguished heart after Din had informed you of his delayed arrival.

It had also clearly brought Mando back to the forefront of your mind in a way that the character had not been for several weeks. 

Until then, any spare time was devoted to seeing Din, rather than watching the same episodes you had seen countless times. Mando had slipped down in your list of priorities. Still, it was the first thing you turned to during a time of crisis. 

Since you had started dating Din, you had found yourself so busy that your frequent watch throughs of Mando had dwindled in frequency. You had a lot less time to yourself, after work you were usually either physically with Din or texting him. Somehow, the thought of watching your fictional crush when you were speaking to your very real boyfriend, even via text, seemed strange.

You had always believed that you would never find anyone in real life who could come close to holding your affection in the same way that Mando did. You knew now, of course, that you were dead wrong about that. 

Din was everything you had ever been searching for. Since the moment you had first crossed paths at the museum, you had felt an immediate connection and spark which had only intensified over the months that you had known him. With Din, you were unafraid to be yourself. You were so authentically yourself when you were around him. 

Din saw you entirely. And he loved you completely in return. In your relationship, there was nothing to run from, nothing to hide. Merely two people who loved each other very much and had felt every part of themselves touched by that affection and made all the better for it. 

Before Din, you had always been afraid of love, afraid of allowing someone to know you so deeply. With him, you had never felt fear. Never felt that he could hurt you or hide anything from you. Even though his particular line of employment kept him away from you and was evidently well-paid, and even though he lived suspiciously close to The Volume… There was no way the kind-hearted man who was such an attentive father and made you feel so safe whenever you were in his presence could be hiding such a thing from you. 

So, those feelings of certainty and security that you drew from your relationship with Din were precisely why you were able to dismiss the peculiar moment at the park which had caused such a strong sense of deja vu within you. You knew Din Djarin was a good man at heart, who would never willingly hurt you or hide things from you. 

Happily, despite the uncanny resemblance to Mando that Din had momentarily shown, your fledgling relationship was going from strength to strength. 

Din was doing everything to spend more time with you. He would meet you after work when his schedule permitted, even if it was just for a quick dinner before the two of you went your separate ways. 

Weekends were usually spent at Din’s cottage, unless he treated you and booked a hotel room for the two of you. The second suite was usually for Kuiil and Grogu now. Din, in his own way, was learning to open up more to you and let Grogu out of his sight for a few hours so he could enjoy your company. He had even discussed renting a flat in central London to give him and Grogu more of a base in the city that would make seeing you easier. It was a sign that the future was on Din’s mind. A future he seemingly wanted to share with you. 

You couldn’t help but notice that the increasing amount of free time Din had coincided with the rumours that had appeared online that The Mandalorian was wrapping up filming season three.

Still, you had no concrete proof that Din worked at The Volume. Despite how much your friends teased you, you refused to let your mind wander in that direction. You had settled on the fact that Din would tell you something if he could and that was that. Better to keep your life as a Mando-obsessed fangirl far separate from the woman who Din was dating. 

As you spent more and more time in each other’s company, there was a comforting familiarity that grew between the two of you when you spent time together. Things were becoming more natural. Dates for the two of you were rarely such an event anymore, it was more just spending time with each other whenever the stars aligned for you to sneak some precious time with each other.

Of course, your heart still fluttered when you thought about Din, texted him or were near to him. That certainly hadn’t changed. 

Spending time with him and having him take you on dates still felt exhilarating. Now with the added bonus that you were beginning to feel more comfortable and relaxed in his presence. Things felt so natural with Din. You did not fear letting him in to see all of you. That included telling the occasional jokes about Mando and trying to persuade him to watch your favourite show. 

In a way, even since your first meeting, you had always known that Din would accept you as you were. Your long, tangential rants at the museum during the tour had not put him off, nor had the time when you were honest with him about much preferring a low-key date rather than taking advantage of the reservation at the fancy restaurant he had made for you. Din accepted you as you were. 

Every time you were around him, you felt butterflies in your stomach and a warmth which spread in your chest at the knowledge that you had let him in completely, and he still loved you anyway. It was exhilarating.

Yes, Din Djarin was certainly getting to know you. All of you. 

✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯

Those butterflies were certainly present once again tonight as the two of you took an after-dinner stroll through Notting Hill, where you had just enjoyed dinner together at a cosy Italian restaurant one of your colleagues had recommended. Your fingers were interlaced with Din’s and you could not resist stealing glances at him every few steps. 

Din had really made an effort for the occasion. He looked so handsome in his white button down shirt, dark blue blazer and matching pants to complete the outfit. You had barely been able to form words when you had first laid eyes upon him outside work earlier in the evening. Any words you had been trying to form had soon been kissed from your lips as Din brought you into a passionate embrace. 

When you saw Din, you were glad that you had stashed some clothes at your workplace for spontaneous date nights. Indeed, your work locker was playing host to an increasing number of outfits for your dates, much to the amusement of your colleagues. 

Tom in particular liked to point out when you were going on a date, causing your cheeks to burn each time. From the way he looked at you and teased you, you almost felt as though he had a crush on you. You wondered why he had never acted upon it before you had started dating Din, if that was indeed the case. 

Before you had met Din, it wasn’t exactly as though you were inundated with proposals. Perhaps it was knowing that you were desirable or the efforts you were making to dress nicely that had caused Tom’s mind to wander. Regardless, you didn’t give it too much thought. For you, it was always Din. Only Din.

As you and Din strolled through the upmarket area of London, with all of its distinctively coloured houses, you couldn’t help but feel the autumnal chill to the air that had not been there a few weeks previously. It made sense, seeing as September was drawing to a close.

But with Din’s large hand in yours and the heat which radiated within you whenever you were with him, you did not feel cold in the slightest. As you walked through a quiet residential area, in the vague direction of a tube station that would take you home, it could have been the depths of winter for all you cared. With Din by your side, you did not feel a single shiver traverse your body. 

Until, Din spoke, and his words sent a chill down your spine.

“I like this area. I could see myself living here,” Din said thoughtfully as the two of you paused on the street. 

There was a row of tall houses with small gardens out front, neat houses with beautiful brickwork and ornate windows. You swallowed thickly. Somewhere like this would be so far out of your price range. It was yet another devastating reminder of the different worlds you came from.

“Maybe it’s somewhere we could look for a flat?” Din questioned, softly smiling at you as he made the suggestion.

You stopped in your tracks and glanced around at him questioningly. It wasn’t the first time Din had brought up the idea of renting a flat in central London, but it was the first time he had used such inclusive language.

He could have been referring to himself and Grogu, of course, but you knew from the way he had said it and looked at you that you were the other he was referring to. You were stunned at his words. The sentiment that he wanted to share a life with you deeply moved you. You had hoped that Din was taking things as seriously as you were, but to hear him express a desire to live with you… you couldn’t help but feel a little giddy.

“We?” you questioned, looking up and smiling shyly.

“Well… much as I love the hotel with the spa and the room service, it would be nice to have a place just for us. Now my hours at work are going to be reduced, it makes more sense to move closer to you. I would like a flat, with two rooms, one for Grogu and one for,” Din leaned in and pressed the gentlest of kisses to your lips “…. us,” Din whispered against your lips, smiling at you in such a way you felt almost embarrassed by the love you saw in his eyes.

For a brief moment, you were not standing in the street with Din. You were transported through time, venturing inside one of the houses you were loitering in front of to a scene so vivid that you could almost reach out and grasp it with both hands. 

You could see lazy weekend mornings where the sun streamed in through the windows and turned everything it touched to gold. You’d wake up in your large bed, head on Din’s warm, firm chest as his arms encircled your waist, holding you tightly. You’d spend a few precious moments cuddling Din close while he slept after a pleasurable night the two of you had enjoyed. 

Sighing contentedly in the tranquillity until you heard the unmistakable pitter patter of small feet outside, belonging to the child who had featured so prominently in your love story so far. Grogu would run in and jump on the pair of you before the three of you headed into the kitchen to make breakfast.

You stood there, trying to figure out which house was the one from the vision. 

Any one of these beautiful buildings could be it, a well-furnished space that still felt intimate and cosy. That felt like a home that the three of you were carving out together. A light space filled with lots of love and laughter. It was so achingly realistic that you felt a chasm opening in your chest, causing tears to sting the corners of your eyes…

“Sorry, it’s too much, too soon…” Din said, brown eyes looking down at the ground.

He had taken your silence as you daydreamed about a future together as an indication that you weren’t interested, that you didn’t want it. He couldn’t have been more wrong.

“Never, Din,” you whispered, the hope that you saw in those soulful eyes as he glanced at you almost took your breath away. “I want to build a future with you,” you nodded, desperately blinking back the tears that threatened to spill down your cheeks.

Din merely smiled at you, caressing your chin with his fingers lightly before he leant in to kiss you softly. It was so tender, so sweet. A deliberate movement that showed you how much he appreciated your words and how deeply he felt them, too. 

“I’m so glad you said that,” Din admitted softly.

You stayed like that, staring at each other for a few more moments, each too emotional to truly put your feelings for each other into words. You felt something other than love settle in your stomach. A fire had been lit in your belly, a steely determination to see the vision you had come to fruition. No matter how long it took, it was the life you wanted for yourself. You were absolutely certain of that fact. 

Unfortunately, however, you could not stand in this moment forever. 

There was the life you had to lead now which took precedence. Plus the fact that the residents might find your continued loitering outside their houses unnerving. 

As you began walking down the street once more, you felt a sense of overwhelming serenity wash over you. There was no doubt in your mind that it would one day be the life you and Din shared.

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It was approaching midnight and the streets were mostly deserted. You had work the following morning and you knew Din had to get back to his cottage for Grogu. Still, that didn’t mean you wouldn’t at least try to get him to come home with you. 

“Wouldn’t you at least come back to my flat with me?” you asked, flashing your best puppy dog eyes at him to try to get him to change his mind.

“Nice try, Sunflower,” Din chuckled, shaking his head at you affectionately, “I really can’t.”

“Please?” you asked again, looking up at him through your eyelashes, “I have a nice, comfortable bed in the flat I rent all by myself.” 

You were probably being a bit desperate and pathetic and you knew it, but the way a frown suddenly flickered across Din’s features at the mention of your bed and flat caused a pang of insecurity to flood through you. 

Din had not been back to your flat since that night he had bolted once the two of you made it to your bedroom. You had never brought it up again, you knew for certain now – even if you had doubted it at the time – that Din was physically attracted to you. He had shown you that plenty of times. 

The pain of his rejection that had floored you back then was mostly a distant memory now. Still, the frown which had unmistakably crossed your face made you wonder why Din was so averse to coming back to your flat. Before you could ruminate any further on his reasoning, Din’s deep voice soothed you. 

“Don’t make this any harder,” Din murmured as he closed his eyes and sighed, “I have to get back for Grogu, I was away from him all day. If I wasn’t there when he woke up, it would unsettle him. I wouldn’t be able to enjoy myself knowing that. Plus, you have work tomorrow… let’s wait until the weekend. We’ll have all the time in the world then, Sunflower.”

“Okay, Din,” you conceded.

“Believe me, I want to… it’s just…” Din stopped and looked down, sighing deeply, “Hard, with all the responsibilities we have.”

“I know, Din,” you nodded, leaning into him and placing your head on his shoulder to reassure him, “I shouldn’t have asked when I know that you can’t. It wasn’t fair of me. I just really like spending time with you.”

“I know, darling,” Din murmured, dropping your hand to bring his arm around your shoulder, as your arm encircled his waist, “I wish we could just see each other whenever we wanted, but work is winding down for me now so I will have more free time. Then, we can begin looking for a place for both of us, and Grogu.”

“I can’t wait,” you smiled, burying your face into Din’s warm, broad chest. 

The scent of his cologne sent a pulse of desire coursing through your veins. It was unfair that he was here, looking so gorgeous and there was nothing you would be able to do to show him just how attracted to him you were. It certainly wasn’t for lack of desire, though.

The two of you stood there in a tight embrace for a few moments, before you stepped back and took Din’s hand again. It was getting late and you knew you needed to head for home, much as you didn’t want to leave him. 

The Tube station was just around the corner and before you knew it, you were standing before the distinctive illuminated red and blue sign, so ubiquitous with the London Underground network. 

With a lump in your throat, you realised that it was time to say goodbye to each other. Your heart ached, but you knew you would see Din again in only a couple more days.

“I’ll see you this weekend, then?” Din questioned, leaning down to drop a lazy kiss onto your lips as you stood outside the station.

“Yes, I can’t wait,” you replied.

“Text me when you’re home,” Din asked as he gently stroked your cheek with his thumb. 

“I will, Din,” you nodded. Caring about the welfare of his loved ones was absolutely Din’s love language.

Din stole one last kiss from your lips before you turned to walk away into the Tube station. Not without a lingering look back at him, appreciating one more time how handsome he looked in his outfit. 

After passing through the ticket barrier and descending far beneath London and onto the platform, you finally allowed Din’s words from earlier to sink in. 

The fact that this incredible man who you loved so much, not only loved you in return but wanted to settle down and carve out a future for you was nothing short of electrifying. You thought back to the timid, awkward version of yourself who had first laid eyes upon him in the museum on that fateful day. You were so in awe of him, yet so certain that you would never catch his eye. 

Look at you now. 

It was almost unbelievable where you were now and how close the two of you had grown. You never would have believed someone like you could capture the heart of Din, that he would be your boyfriend. But he was. And he wanted to build a life with you.

Yet, as you got on the tube and began your journey home, your mind was once again racing with unanswered questions and lingering doubts. You felt bitter thinking about how Din could have been joining you. 

You knew it was because of Grogu, of course. Their bond was so strong and the way that Din cared for his adopted son was just one of the many reasons that you were infatuated with him.

Still, you could not quite shake the feeling that you were missing something. That perhaps you should not be so keen to put down roots with a man that you still felt you hardly knew. 

Then you thought of all the happy times with Din and all of those anxieties faded away, only to be replaced by new doubts when you thought of moments such as the one by the boathouse.

It was exhausting.

So, you reached for your earphones and went straight to the playlist of your favourite pieces from the Mandalorian’s soundtrack to quieten your racing thoughts. For a few moments as the train hurtled far beneath the quiet streets of London, you were somewhere far away, soaring through the stars with Mando.

A galaxy away from your anguish over Din…

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Those uncomfortable thoughts continued over the next few days until you could see Din again. The Mandalorian soundtrack could only stave them off for so long. The sheer contrasting emotions were difficult to stomach. The simultaneous sheer joy you felt at knowing Din wanted the two of you to live together and the lingering questions you had about him that remained unanswered.

Through it all, of course, Ria had been there for you, a shoulder to cry on and a friend to squeal with about Din when things were going well. Like today, as you pulled out your phone to text her on the way to Din’s cottage from the back of the car he had sent to collect you.

[mandoismine] 13:18 morning ria. hope you have a good weekend!!

[thisistheslay] 13:17 Thanks bestie! Not much planned for me, just recovering from work lmao. But what about you, when are you next seeing Din?

[mandoismine] 13:18 im on my way to his house now. he sent me a car to pick me up :)

[thisistheslay] 13:20 OOH!! A SUGAR DADDY!!

You looked out of the window and rolled your eyes, tutting at her antics.

[thisistheslay] 13:22 - I’m only joking. But I still think he’s Mando ;)

[mandoismine] 13:25 - i know haha dw. he isnt!! but i might ask him today if he works at the volume today… surely he could just TELL me that

[thisistheslay] 13:27 - DEWIT!! Hope he can tell you some secrets. Maybe he met Mando?!?!

[mandoismine] 13:30 - haha maybe. almost here now, ill text u later :)

[thisistheslay] 13:32 - Okiiiiii! Have fun with your mob boss boyfriend ;)

You couldn’t help but scoff at Ria’s antics once again. It was a running joke between the two of you that Din was either part of the mafia – hence the wealth he apparently had access to – or was The Mandalorian, given the fact he lived in Nevarro. 

You thought both scenarios were equally unlikely, despite how much some of your other internet friends had teased you about the possibility of your boyfriend being The Mandalorian.

Still, it was nice that you could joke about it with Ria. It somehow made the preposterousness of the situation feel far less intense and daunting. It calmed your pounding heart as you pulled up outside Din’s cottage. 

Once you headed up the familiar garden path, there was no more anxiety or tension. You were happy to soon be back in the arms of the man you loved. Which you were, barely having time to breathe for, as soon as Din opened the door, he pulled you straight into his arms.

Din often greeted you enthusiastically after spending some time apart. This time, however, was nothing short of desperation on his part as he pinned you against the door, securing his leg between your thighs as he thoroughly kissed you. His kisses were relentless as he searched your mouth with his tongue, desperate for his fill.

“Din,” you panted when he finally pulled away, “What about Grogu?”

“Grogu is out for the day with Kuiil,” Din rasped into your ear as he took your earlobe between his teeth, “It’s just the two of us, Sunflower.”

You did not dare to reply with words and waste a single second of the precious alone time you and Din had by talking. Instead, you dived back into his lips. Wasting no time in communicating with words what you could convey with your lips and tongue.

The two of you didn’t even make it upstairs to Din’s bedroom. He dragged you through the cottage, giggling breathlessly as he went before he sat down on the sofa and pulled you onto his lap. Din secured his strong arms around your waist, his hands splayed out across your back underneath your T-shirt, causing you to break out in goosebumps wherever his fingers roamed.

“So beautiful, missed you so much,” Din rasped, before your mouths collided once again. 

“Missed you too,” you replied when you finally parted.

You continued hungrily making out for a few more moments, before it became impossible to ignore Din’s aching hardness underneath your lap. You moaned as you ground down on him, desperate to feel him. Din bit his lip and groaned in response. The sight was so erotic that you were pretty certain you would climax if he simply allowed you to continue riding his muscular thigh. 

However, Din clearly had other plans. You barely had time to react, before Din switched positions and you were sitting on the couch. You certainly did not have a chance to speak. 

Especially since the sight before you was so erotic, that all breath was stolen from your lungs.

Din sank to his knees before you, looking up at you with darkened eyes as pulled your pants and underwear down. He trailed featherlight kisses back up your legs, paying particular attention to the inside of your thighs. You groaned, wordlessly begging with your actions for him to give you the release you were aching for as you arched your back towards his waiting mouth. To put his lips where you wanted them most.

“All for me?” Din questioned, raising a brow flirtatiously as he looked at your glistening core.

“Din, please,” you whined, desperate for his touch.

Fortunately, Din was equally as desperate as you. He dove in without further delay, moving his skilled tongue as your legs trembled in ecstasy. You were desperate for more of him, eager to have him worshipping you on his knees forever. You knew he would, if only you asked.

Din did not seem to care when your thighs clamped around his skull. In fact, it spurred him on to caress parts of you with his tongue which made you see stars. You moved your hands to his hair, tangling your fingers in his soft curls and encouraging his movements. 

When he finally added his thick fingers, you felt the burning in your belly transform into an inferno. Chanting the single syllable of his name as you reached ecstasy. 

Afterwards, you sat there for a few moments, unable to speak, barely able to breathe. Utterly blissed out from the pleasure he had brought you. Your legs twitched uncontrollably.

Finally, when you had composed yourself enough to raise your head from where it had slumped against the back of the sofa, you sat up to look at the man who had just driven you to such heights of pleasure.  

Din was still between your legs, leaning a stubbled cheek against the top of your thigh with a thoroughly satisfied smirk on his face. His warm brown eyes were full of love. You wished you could live in that moment forever. He looked so handsome, it was almost offensive to your lust-addled mind. You would have been content to spend the rest of your life in that moment.

That was until you looked down at Din’s dark grey jeans and noticed the sizable bulge that was visible. There was no way it could be comfortable. You were more than eager to offer Din some relief. It had been too long since you had the opportunity to wrap your lips around his impressive length.

“Allow me to return the favour,” you breathlessly offered, nodding towards Din’s crotch.

Din raised his head from your thigh instantly, the warmth of love and affection that had been evident in his eyes was replaced with something darker. He did not stop you as you stood from the couch on trembling legs and offered him a hand. 

Din took it and when he was at his full height, you wrapped your arms around his neck and clashed your lips together with his. The heat that had disappeared down to a gentle simmer as you basked in the afterglow of your orgasm had been replaced by something far more desperate, now. 

Din groaned into your lips, a sound which you heard once more when you attacked the buttons of his shirt. With the troublesome material out of the way, you placed your hand on his chest and pushed lightly until he flopped down on the couch.

Din sat there, transfixed by the sight of you with his mouth open in lust as he watched you sink to your knees between his legs. Eager to pay back the debt. 

There was no point in delaying the inevitable any further and teasing him. You both knew what you wanted.

Without hesitation, you removed his throbbing length from its confines, noticing in awe how flushed the skin was there. Your mouth watered at the sight of it. It had been far too long and nothing made you feel more powerful and attractive than rendering this mountain of a man into a trembling wreck as you took him in your mouth.

You took his head in your mouth, swirling your tongue around the tip a few times as Din groaned your name, unable to help himself from thrusting up into your mouth. He wanted more. And you were more than happy to give it to him. 

You opened your mouth and took him as far as you could, head enthusiastically bobbing up and down along his length. As always, you struggled to fit all of him in your mouth.

Still, you were determined and Din encouraged you with his fingers in your hair. When you made it far enough down, he choked your name out in ecstasy. You moved your head back with an obscene pop, catching your breath and looking up at him in adoration through your eyelashes. You were determined to provoke such a reaction in him again.

As your head bobbed up and down Din’s length with renewed urgency and determination, his moans and gasps picked up in pace and volume. You sensed he was getting close but you did not draw back, thoroughly enjoying rendering him so desperate and breathless with  your mouth.

Din came with a cry of your name, fingers on the back of your head as he gasped and panted through his orgasm. You made sure you collected every last drop of him, a sight which you could tell pleased him. He groaned as you withdrew. In response, you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand as you glanced up at him, satisfied with your handiwork.

Much like you a few minutes previously, Din was unable to form words. He flopped back against the couch, muscular chest heaving as his eyes stayed closed in bliss. You took his large hands in yours and pressed kisses to each one of his calloused fingers and palms. Worshipping a part of him that you loved so much. 

When Din had finally regained his composure, his deep voice finally cut through the silence.

“I’m sorry, I wish I could have lasted longer,” Din apologetically murmured, “It had been too long.”

“It’s fine, Din,” you smiled, “We have plenty of time to make up for that later.”

Din nodded with a tired smirk and pulled you back onto his lap on the couch. You curled up into his neck as he grabbed the blanket which was slung over the arm of the sofa. He threw it over your bodies, a warm layer that you were pleased to be snuggled underneath. Especially since the sheen of sweat which had appeared across your bodies during the heated passion of earlier was now cooling and shivers traversed your body.

You felt your eyelids growing heavy. You put up a valiant effort to fight against sleep, but curling against Din’s side while he held you tightly was too tempting to resist…

✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯

The sound of a toddler crying caused your eyelids to flutter open. To your surprise, you were lying down on the couch, a pillow underneath your head rather than Din’s shoulder. 

As you came to your senses and discovered how gravelly your mouth was thanks to sleep, you were momentarily disoriented, forgetting where you were. Then, with a shy smile ghosting across your lips, you remembered what you and Din had been up to before you nodded. You must have really needed the sleep, which made sense considering how exhausted you had been by a hectic week at work. 

You couldn’t dwell on your impromptu nap for too long. The sound of Grogu’s wails tugged on your heartstrings. You pushed yourself up from the couch, rubbing your groggy eyes as you padded towards the kitchen.

“Is everything okay?” you murmured as you stood at the doorway.

Din was standing in the kitchen, holding Grogu who was swaddled in a blanket to his chest. 

“Kuiil told me that Grogu was fussing and thinks he’s coming down with a cold,” Din sighed, his brown eyes weary, “I’m trying to give him some medicine, but he won’t take it.”

You nodded solemnly before approaching Din and Grogu, aching to see the little boy so distressed. 

“Are you feeling a little poorly, buddy?” you sympathetically asked Grogu, reaching out your hand to touch his forehead with the back of your hand. 

You winced as you felt that Grogu’s skin was hot to the touch. You cast your eyes towards Din, feeling awful at the way worry was etched across his features.

“Will you be good and let your dad give you some medicine?” you asked in the hope that Grogu would acquiesce, “I know it tastes yucky, but it will make you feel much better.”

Grogu looked at you with a frown, clearly not wanting to have the vile liquid pass through his lips. You stroked his cheek affectionately, pleading wordlessly with the look in your eyes. Grogu had still not said his first word, but you knew he understood the world on a deeper level than perhaps anyone else you knew. 

After a few moments, Grogu nodded slowly. You smiled at him appreciatively and grabbed the bottle from Din’s hand. Luckily, Grogu accepted the medication without much fuss.

✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯

You frowned at the footsteps from the hallway outside which indicated that Din  had returned from Grogu’s room yet again. This time, you did not bother to turn over to question him on the boy’s condition. You did not want Din to think you were smothering him, so you laid there quietly and tried to fall asleep.

You had been hoping that taking the medicine would help Grogu to settle. Unfortunately, the little boy continued fussing for the entire evening. Din had anxiously chewed his lip throughout, refusing to allow Grogu out of his sight. 

The man would not bat an eyelid if there was something seriously wrong with him, but when it came to someone he loved, Din was frantic with worry. His protectiveness towards the people he loved was one of the things you loved most about your boyfriend. 

You had been hoping for Din’s sake, as much as Grogu’s, that his condition would improve. But that was not to be. Grogu had been listless in Din’s arms. You wished that there was something that you could do to help make the vibrant little boy well again. All you could do was stand by Din’s side as he sat on Grogu’s bed, cuddling his son and giving them some privacy when Din finally tucked him in.

Din’s anxious vigil over Grogu continued well into the night, even after Grogu had finally fallen asleep, as his latest excursion across the hallway indicated.

Despite setting up the baby monitor and cuddling up to you in bed, Din could not settle, no no matter how many times he checked the device.

Making up for before was definitely off the cards. It was one of those things you had to be prepared for and expect when dating an older man with a child. You knew that Din’s priority was Grogu, he had never attempted to hide that fact from you. 

So, when the sheets rustled and Din got out of bed yet again, you did not fuss or make him feel guilty for checking on his boy. You understood that he would not be able to rest until Grogu was well again.

✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯

When you blinked awake early the next morning, the pale light of a new day streaming in through the windows, you did not feel the familiar soft snores which indicated Din Djarin was asleep by your side.

You were a little concerned when you rolled over to discover Din’s side of the bed empty. Your immediate fear was that Grogu’s condition had taken a turn for the worse, and Din had hurried out with him to hospital without having time to inform you.

Without hesitation, you pushed yourself from the bed and padded towards Grogu’s room, anxious for what you would discover in his tastefully furnished room. 

Fortunately, you had no reason to fear.

You breathed a sigh of relief at the sight before you. Grogu was sleeping peacefully in his bed, while Din was on the floor at his side. Hulking physique barely hidden beneath a comically small blanket as he dozed.

The light streaming in through the curtains and colouring everything golden was so much like the vision you had outside the house in Notting Hill a few days ago, that it almost took your breath away. Perhaps the future you had been imagining was right here before you already. Without you even realising it.

Your heart ached at the sight. It was so touching that you contemplated grabbing your phone and snapping a picture of the perfect moment. Before you could, Din stirred, face immediately breaking into a smile once he laid eyes upon you. 

“Morning, Sunflower,” Din groggily whispered.

“Morning, handsome,” you smiled, “Sleep well?”

“I did when I eventually got to sleep,” Din replied softly, careful not to wake Grogu.

“Why don’t I go and fix us some breakfast?” you questioned, eager to make yourself useful.

Din nodded gratefully, “That would be perfect.”

You blew a kiss to him before you left, deciding that pancakes would be the perfect pick-me-up for both Din and eventually Grogu, whenever he finally arose. You were relieved that Din had managed to get some sleep and that Grogu seemed to have settled.

After mixing the pancake batter and allowing it to sit for a few minutes, you were so engrossed in the task of making the sweet treats that you did not hear Din’s footsteps approaching. The first indication you had of his presence was a muscular pair of arms snaking around your waist.

“Din,” you warned, as he began kissing a path up your neck.

You refused to have the guilt of burning Din’s beautiful cottage to a crisp, too distracted by his attempt to seduce you.

“Wanna make up for last night?” he rasped into your ear, hot breath ghosting across the sensitive skin which caused a jolt of desire between your thighs.

“After I’ve finished the pancakes,” you murmured, “I worked hard on them.”

Tempting though the offer was, you were determined to treat Din to one of his favourite breakfast items. So, albeit reluctantly and not before stealing a kiss from your lips, Din retreated and patiently sat at the table, waiting for you to finish.

With the last pancake plated up, you turned to face Din. Who you discovered had stood up from the table to stand before you. Without wasting another second, he leaned in for a kiss. You groaned as he deepened it, tongue exploring yours. He tasted of minty toothpaste, indicating that his plan had not been entirely spontaneous. 

“I love you,” Din whispered as he momentarily drew back, eyes overcome with an emotion you could not quite place as he cradled your chin with his hand, gently stroking your cheek with his thumb, “Thank you for being so patient with Grogu last night.”

“Of course, Din,” you smiled, giving his lips a quick peck.

When your lips met again, the frenzied desperation of moments ago was a distant memory. Din was taking his time, savouring the moment as he pinned you up against the kitchen counter. His lips descended lower and lower down your skin, trailing a hot path down the column of your neck before he pulled back your shirt, desperate to expose more skin as he nipped and sucked at your collarbone…

“Patu!”

Din instantly stopped his ministrations, drawing back from you as his chest heaved. You desperately hoped it wasn’t what you thought it was. But you would recognise that sound anywhere. 

“Buir!” 

There was no avoiding it now. The babbling from the baby monitor had interrupted the moment once again. Din flashed you an apologetic look and immediately dashed off to check on his son. 

You sighed as you watched him go. You felt greedy to want Din all to yourself. After all, you had been equally concerned for Grogu’s welfare and loved him as much as Din did. Still, it had been so long that you had a moment together. You were frustrated that fate had conspired to keep you stressed and apart, even when together…

✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯

Grogu rallied throughout the afternoon, so much so that Din felt confident enough to call Kuiil to hire his services for a couple of hours, so the two of you could round off your weekend in your favourite way; taking a pleasant evening stroll together around the lush countryside near his house, before stopping for a pint in The Nevarro Arms.

The decision to visit here for the first time had been rather spontaneous, after the day you had entered the lake in Hyde Park. It seemed odd, the first time you had got in and met the landlord, a man called Greef Karga, that he had never met Din before. The Nevarro Arms appeared to be the centre of the little village in which Din lived. You shouldn’t have been surprised at the solitude you knew Din preferred, but you thought it was sad that he was so many miles from home and it hadn’t been until he met you that he had finally ventured out and about and shown his face in places.

Happily, it was now somewhere that you looked forward to visiting. Din had enthusiastically taken to pub culture. He had even come to enjoy the friendly conversations with Greef as he pulled two pints of your usual.

You loved your evenings at The Nevarro Arms. The atmosphere was cosy and homely, reminding you of home somehow in the feelings it provoked in you. You had come to learn that home was a feeling rather than a place.

This particular Sunday, though, was not like the others. 

The first indication that something was different was the number of people that were gathered on the front step of the pub, next to the rose bushes that were underneath the old windows. You loathed busy pubs. A sinking feeling already began somewhere deep in the pit of your stomach.

You and Din flashed each other a curious glance, but proceeded to enter anyway. 

An action that you regretted as soon as you stepped into the old pub and heard the relentless hum of people. 

Your fears had been realised. The Nevarro Arms was far busier than the usual quiet Sunday evenings you had grown accustomed to. Once you took a closer look at your surroundings, you noticed that your usual table by the windows had been occupied. It only added to the chasm which was opening up in your chest. Greef always tried to save it for you, but there were many more people in here than usual.

You considered leaving, but you knew how much Din enjoyed his pints. So, you grabbed his hand and made your way over to the bar. Your favourite pub landlord enthusiastically greeted you, his entire face illuminating at the sight of you and Din.

“Nice to see you two! What can I get you, the usual?” Greef boomed.

“Yes please,” you smiled brightly, “Thank you, Greef.”

“Anything for two of my most valued customers! Sorry it’s a little bit busier here than normal tonight,” Greef said as he commenced pulling your pints. 

“Oh it’s alright!” you lied,  “Is there some kind of party?” you asked, inquisitively.

Greef nodded and leaned in towards you and Din, as though he were about to divulge state secrets. 

“Apparently, one of the shows that films at the studios near here has just wrapped and a lot of the crew are having an unofficial wrap party before a bigger event in London next week.” Greef explained in hushed tones with a chuckle, “But don’t ask them for any details, they won’t tell me a thing!”

You threw your head back in laughter, but Din did not move a muscle. He suddenly looked incredibly anxious. You were concerned for him, but Greef handing your pint to you momentarily distracted you. 

When Din paid for your drinks, you finally took a moment to observe him, noticing how his brown eyes roved across the pub. It was as though he was searching for a familiar face. 

You were too distracted to let your mind wander that you were probably in a pub filled with people who had worked on your favourite TV show. Instead, you were preoccupied with the way Din’s fist had tensed, where he was resting it on the bar, at the mention of the TV show. 

It was noticeable how his entire body suddenly went stiff. He looked around the pub apprehensively, shoulders slumping as though he was trying to hide. There he was again, giving the theories that Ria had more credence. Still, you knew Din didn’t like big groups of people. Especially strangers.

So you tried your best to push those doubts to the back of your mind, even if it was part of a larger pattern that had caused you to question certain things over the course of your relationship. 

Din’s behaviour after you left the bar and found a table however, gave you increasing cause for concern. As you sat there, sipping your usual pint of cider, he was quiet, withdrawn. Chewing his lip nervously as his brown eyes stared so intently at the pint of cider on the table like it was the only thing in the world. It was almost as if he had physically shrunk in stature, broad shoulders hunched over, as though he was trying to make himself as small as possible. 

Suddenly, it was as though the transcripts of conversations you had had late at night with your friends in the groupchat came flooding back. Their reactions when you had told them about the proximity of your boyfriend’s place to the studios where your collective favourite TV show was filmed, how they had been so keen to get the gossip about it from a local and begged you to bring it up. 

Half of them were convinced Din worked on The Mandalorian but was sworn to secrecy, it had started in jest at first, but the more you told them about Din, the more crazy theories they were making. It had been fun at first, but they needed to remember it was your actual life! It was far from the playful way that Ria kept ribbing you that he was actually playing Mando, they were veering into conspiracy theory territory. 

Perhaps  they had been onto something after all. Din’s entire demeanour had completely shifted since Greef had told you what the party was in honour of.

You looked up from the table where you were sitting and noticed what you were sitting in front of. It was a spot in the pub you had always gazed at as you walked past, but never had the chance to sit and admire. Din was always eager to quickly move past this particular section of the pub. 

With it being the only available table tonight, it seemed that you would finally have your chance to bring up something you had been dying to for weeks. It wasn’t as though your boyfriend was particularly forthcoming with conversation, either. 

So you sat there, glancing up at the pictures and art that was a sort of shrine to the sci-fi franchise that was, in your mind, the most iconic of all time. A franchise that you had grown up with, but never truly loved until you watched Mando, the show that had comforted you at your worst moments. 

The fact that Din might be linked to that piqued your curiosity as much as it concerned you, given his current bizarre behaviour.

So, you decided to finally bring it up. You were tired of all the uncertainty:

“It’s pretty cool that they have all this memorabilia from the productions filmed here,” you observed, as you gazed around at all of the signed photos and posters that had been donated by various cast members, including by the big three from the original Star Wars trilogy.

“It is,” Din nodded, deliberately avoiding making eye contact with you.

His brown eyes were fixated on a menu in a way that was unusual, considering you were so known for ordering the same thing every weekend that Greef knew precisely what you were going to order when you walked up to the bar to place it.

“I do think it’s kind of a crazy coincidence, though, how my favourite show shoots only a mile away from here. A mile from where you live,” you shrugged, sipping your cider thoughtfully, “Have you ever seen any of the cast around?” 

“No, I haven’t,” Din replied sharply.

“It’s just a weird coincidence, that’s all. You say work brought you here to Nevarro and yet, apart from those studios, there is nothing else here.”

“Yep. Weird coincidence,” Din confirmed, still not making eye contact with you. Staring at the menu for so long that you knew he could have read it ten times over.

“Wait, why are you being so defensive? It’s not like you’re actually The Mandalorian,” you questioned teasingly, laughing at what you thought was clearly a joke.

Your laughs soon died on your lips, as you noticed Din’s reaction to the joke. He tensed up completely, flinching as you had said that name. 

You were sure you had seen him visibly recoil. 

There was something there, you knew it. 

Still, at that moment your chief concern was for him. The playful banter and flirting that had been present on the walk you had enjoyed before you had stopped here for your usual pint were gone, replaced by a tension and unease in the air that made you feel sick to the pit of your stomach.

“Wait, Din… I was only joking,” you clarified, fearing that despite everything, you had upset him. 

“Finish your drink. Then let’s go,” Din said, slamming down the menu on the table and draining his pint with the astonishing quickness of a seasoned cider drinker that you knew he was not. Perhaps he needed some Dutch courage.

“We can just leave, Din,” you reassured him. Suddenly the rest of your pint did not appeal to you, despite how much you enjoyed it and could taste the freshness of the apples that were farmed only a few miles away from here, “I don’t want you to be upset.”

Din nodded and stood to his feet, offering you his hand. He was being astonishingly quiet and your heart ached, seeing him retreat into his shell like this. The cosy Sunday evening that you had been so looking forward to all week – The Nevarro Arms really had the best cider offerings – would not be on the menu today. Instead, just a lot of tension and unease. It was the worst possible way to end your weekend.

It almost broke your heart.

You had almost made it out of the pub without further incident. You could see the pale blue sky after the sunset through the glass of the door, you could almost taste the sweet air of the warm summer night.

Then, it happened. 

The moment which caused your jaw to drop in disbelief. 

The moment which proved to you beyond all doubt that your suspicions had not been unfounded delusions. 

As, at the same moment that you went to push on the heavy door that led to the quiet street outside the pub, it opened from the other side. You almost stumbled forward as the door you were expecting to be there had already been opened, but fortunately you caught yourself in time. 

At first you were slightly disoriented, but then you noticed that you had almost crashed into someone else. He was a portly man who was taller than you. You had not yet looked at his face, just saw his chest area and the bright blue polo shirt he was wearing. 

As you trailed your eyes upwards, your mouth opened in shock. Staring right back at you, from behind a pair of black glasses, was a man that you would recognise anywhere. 

A man who had created the character that you loved more than anything else in the world.

A man whose scripts you had poured over for hours and hours, both by yourself and with your friends.

The man standing before you was Jim Freeman, creator of The Mandalorian. 

But he wasn’t even looking at you. It was like you were invisible, despite the fact you had almost bumped into each other. 

No, his brown eyes were looking straight over your shoulder. 

Jim Freeman was staring at Din. The flicker of recognition across his face was unmistakable.

Somehow, the writer and creator of The Mandalorian knew your boyfriend. 

Your boyfriend who had, just minutes ago, frozen up completely when you had jokingly accused him of being The Mandalorian. Your head was spinning. 

You turned to look back at Din, a question on your lips. A question that was never asked. Din placed his hand on the small of your back and practically shoved you through the door, apologising to Jim on the way out. 

Somehow you had made it out of the pub, but you were now standing there on the pavement, frozen. Your brain was struggling to catch up, to piece together everything that had happened. 

You were brought back by the sounds of Din’s footsteps as he walked away at a brisk pace. Should you follow him? Should you stay here and confront him? 

No, that would cause a scene. You were reeling from what had just happened, but you knew you had to follow him. There was no avoiding the conversation that needed to take place now. You couldn’t comprehend it, if you were right, if what your gut was telling you was correct, Din had more than a little explaining to do.

How could this even be possible? This kind of thing just did not happen to people like you.

You realised, with a sickening clarity that felt like a punch to your gut, that Din had been hiding something huge from you. There was no other explanation for his behaviour. 

As you followed his silhouette down the country lanes, your mind was replaying all the little memories, the moments that had caused you to question who he was. 

The first time you met, the comment he had made to Grogu about the Sutton Hoo helmet, the way that Din had mentioned being at the convention, how uncomfortable he seemed when you passed that child in the Mando shirt at the zoo.

The pieces were all falling together for you. But it couldn’t be true… how could it? This was surely the universe’s idea of a sick joke. There was no way that this man who had once been so shy and reserved, who was such a devoted father could be the same man behind the most fearsome bounty hunter in the galaxy. Who, onscreen, could snap a platoon of Stomtrooper’s necks like it was nothing. 

You knew Mando wasn’t real, that whoever was behind him was just an actor, but the contrast…. It was too much for you to comprehend that he could be the same person.

Din continued marching ahead of you. You had noticed that he did not take your hand like he usually did, indeed as he had done when you set out on your walk before stopping at the pub. Instead, he walked several paces ahead of you, eager to get home. You were about to tell him to slow down, to wait up, but he looked back over his shoulder and called out to you.

“Please, let’s just get home,” Din said desperately, out of breath on a walk that did not usually exert someone of his fitness level.

You were stunned, he had never treated you like this.

Suddenly, whatever he was hiding from you seemed unimportant compared to this new side of him that you were being exposed to. Din had always been so careful, so caring, so attentive around you. This behaviour was unlike anything you had ever seen from him before. It made your blood run cold, sent a shiver down your spine that was unrelated to the rapidly cooling countryside air after the sun had finally set and the shorts you were dressed in.

Luckily, Din’s cottage was not too far from the pub and before too long you were walking across the uneven slabs in the front garden which led to the door.

However, Din was so anxious that he was fumbling with the stiff, old lock. It almost took him longer to open the door than it took to walk back from the pub. You felt your worry increase as you noticed the way Din’s hands were trembling. He never seemed fazed by anything, until your little joke.

Finally, he opened the door and stepped inside. 

Din did not even look back at you. He kicked his shoes off and removed his coat, as if he was some kind of robot. He was about to ascend the stairs up to Grogu’s room, but you called after him, enraged about the way he was ignoring you. Especially after the events which had transpired in The Nevarro Arms.

“Din, please tell me what on Earth is going on?” you almost shouted, near hysterical at this point.

“Please, keep it down!” Din pleaded as he paused on the stairs, “Grogu is probably sleeping and Kuiil is still here. Let me get rid of him, and then we need to talk,” Din whispered.

“Alright,” you breathed, your arms folded across your body in a self-soothing gesture, shaking your head as you glared at him.

You were spiralling. What had he been hiding from you, all this time?

Clearly, your body language unnerved Din. He addressed you once again, brown eyes wide with worry. 

“Please, Sunflower… I promise we will talk. Why don’t you go and start a fire outside in the pit? I'll just say goodnight to Kuiil and set up the baby monitor. Then I’ll be out to join you,” Din begged, his eyes glinting despite the darkness of the cottage.

If you weren’t so unbelievably annoyed at him, you were certain that you would be marvelling at how absurdly handsome he looked even with the lack of light as he  ascended the stairs opposite the door. 

The brown shirt and dark blue jeans that he had worn for your walk was one of your favourite outfits. Din had allowed his brown hair to grow slightly longer over the past few weeks and you marvelled once more at how much it suited him. 

And his eyes…

Those deep brown eyes had made your heart ache for all the right reasons over the past few weeks, but now they were breaking you for a very different reason. 

Your mind was racing as you made your way to the outside to light a fire in the fire pit. Simultaneously eager to have and dreading the difficult conversation you were certain was heading your way. Your hands shook uncontrollably as you gathered the kindling and placed the logs in the fire pit. 

Din found you out there a few minutes later in the darkness, still struggling with the matches. He had silently crept outside and shocked you with his presence. Much like how he had snuck up on you earlier that morning as you made him pancakes. Except this time, there was no kissing. This time, there was no laughter. 

Din gently took the box from you and struck the matches with alarming ease, despite how nervous he looked. You weren’t sure if it was just the chilly air, or the fact that what he was about to tell you was something that was making him incredibly nervous.

With the flames finally leaping into the darkness and finally providing some much needed warmth, Din took a seat on one of the logs by the fire pit. You remained on your feet, pacing around anxiously while he watched. 

“Din, please explain to me your bizarre reaction to that question and why the guy who I know for a fact created The Mandalorian looked at you like that,” your voice trembled, struggling to get the words out that you knew could make or break everything.

Din could not make eye contact with you, fiddling with his thumbs as he stared into the flames. 

“Please, don’t lie to me. I need to know the truth,” you implored him.

Din sighed deeply, clearly gathering himself together. You braced yourself for whatever it was.

When he finally spoke, you were scarcely able to believe the words that were coming out of his mouth. 

“There’s… there’s something I’ve been hiding from you since we first met,” Din finally speaks, his ordinarily measured, steady voice cracking and uncertain. “I just… There were so many times when I should have told you, when I could have spared you any pain. I didn’t want it to come out like this, I didn’t want you to connect the dots without me…” Din was about to continue, but you couldn’t help your reaction.

“Oh my god… it’s true…” you whispered, hand coming up to clamp over your mouth in surprise. It felt like your stomach had just fallen out of your body. Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth as your knees threatened to buckle underneath you. You could not comprehend what you were sure he was about to tell you.

“I’m so sorry,” Din breathed.

“I need to hear you say it,” you demanded, shaking your head at him.

“I’m… I am The Mandalorian…” Din whispered. His voice trembled and his shoulders hunched forward as he said those words that confirmed your suspicions, “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner…”

“Did you… know?” you whispered, feeling the hot sting of tears beginning to burn your eyes and cheeks harshly, “I mean, did you know how much I love the show when you started dating me?”

“Sunflower, listen. I…” Din stuttered.

“Don’t call me that!” you shouted, voice far louder than you intended. You were not prepared to give him a second to justify his actions, instantly following up with another question, “Is that why you targeted me, Din? Oh she loves Mando, she’ll be easy to use for a quick fuck!”

“No, I would never do that,” Din shook his head emphatically, but you were not satisfied. 

“All these months, I’ve been so honest with you,” you choked, struggling to hold back the tears now, “Look where it got me!”

“Please, listen to me. I can explain, I…” Din pleaded.

“How many other girls have you used like this, Din Djarin? How many other girls have you held your title, your role over them to get them into bed!” you were hysterical now. Fortunately, the fire pit was away from the house so there was no danger of waking Grogu.

“I never used my role to influence you, to get you into bed. How could I, when you had no idea?” Din added calmly, “The way I felt about you was real. Everything about us… it’s always been real. I regret keeping that from you, but I promise, I have never lied to you when I told you I loved you.”

“How many others?” you gritted out, certain that if Din had lied to you about one thing, there must be more secrets he was keeping.

All those insecurities came flooding back to you. How could someone like Din ever have fallen for you, a lowly museum worker?

“You are the only one, baby, please. I love you,” Din whispered, his eyes filling with tears as he stood up and approached you.

“No, shut the fuck up, Din! You do not do something like this and then tell me that you love me! Our entire relationship, built on a lie. The worst  lie you could have ever told me,” you were powerless, now, to stop the trembling, nor the tears that streaked down your cheeks, “My friends, they suspected something, tried to tell me that it was suspicious how rich you were and how close you lived to the studios. They knew! I told them they were delusional, turns out I was the delusional one for ever trusting you!”

“I know. I regret not telling you, more than you could know. But I just…” Din could hardly get a word in, your hysterical ramblings continued:

“Oh my god, that night in the suite. When I got the bottle of champagne delivered and it was for Jim Freeman, it wasn’t a mistake or a coincidence. Fuck!” you yelled, sobbing now, “It was him! The Jim Freeman, you knew back then and you didn’t tell me. We slept together, Din! We told each other we loved each other! I got close to your son! How could you lie like this?!”

“Look. I know how angry you are…” Din began.

“ANGRY?! Din, I’m devastated!” you bellowed.

Din took a step back from you. 

You took a second to compose yourself, and added in a quieter voice, “I feel used, lied to.”

“Please don’t–”

“I feel like a fool. I feel humiliated. I just, I can’t do this anymore,” you admitted.

“Please don’t leave me, don’t leave me and Grogu,” Din pleaded as he took a step towards you and tried to reach his hand out to you.

“Don’t you dare use Grogu against me, Din!” you exclaimed as you stepped backwards, away from him. “I love that little boy and he is innocent in all of this! It’s not his fault his father is a fucking liar!”

“I know, I’m so sorry… I didn’t mean it like that,” Din  instantly apologised.

“Were you ever going to tell me?” you said, from behind gritted teeth, “Or were you just going to lie to me forever?”

“Baby, I tried my hardest never to lie to you. I just… I couldn’t tell you the truth, my identity has to stay secret…” Din explained, the term of endearment he used boiling your blood further.

“Oh don’t start with that, Din!” you exclaimed. “I don’t care what legal agreements you have. You should have told me! We were talking about moving in together, about making a life together. How could you do that when you knew you were keeping such a secret from me?”

“I… I didn’t know how to tell you. I’m sorry. I just wanted to protect you. I was going to tell you so many times, but I’ve been a coward,” Din said, staring down at the ground below as his broad shoulders drooped. He looked so forlorn, so broken that your heart ached despite your anger.

“Yes, you are!” you exclaimed, “You’re a complete coward, and a liar!”

There was silence for a few moments as the two of you stood there. You were breathing deeply, you could hear your pulse throbbing in your ears. Your jaw was clenched so tightly that you feared it would hurt tomorrow.

You looked over towards the fire, focusing on the way it leapt into the air and the sounds of the wood crackling to ground yourself. The rage you had felt slowly dissipated, replaced with something on an entirely different spectrum of emotions: sadness and defeat.

“Please, let’s talk about this…” Din begged.

“There’s nothing to talk about, Din,” you said quietly, the anger in your voice had been replaced with sorrow. You were defeated, broken, “I have nothing to say to you.”

“Well let me just tell you over, and over, how sorry I am,” Din begged, his deep voice strained.

“You can, but I won’t accept it,” you sighed, folding your arms against the chill that you suddenly felt. The fire had lost its effectiveness with the strong emotions that coursed through your veins.

“At least let me call you a ride home and let me wait with you while it arrives?” Din offered.

“Call me that cab but I’m waiting outside. I can’t do this,” you said, shaking your head as you walked away from him.

You had thought that you had got all of your anger and aggression out of your system, but as you entered the back door of the cottage and walked through the kitchen, you felt something stirring inside of you. 

You stopped by the fridge which had a collection of Grogu’s drawings – drawings of you and Din, drawings that you had helped Grogu with – pinned to it with magnets. Din had not only ruined the relationship between the two of you, he had robbed you of all the love and affection you held for Grogu, affection that Grogu clearly held for you. There were drawings of sunflowers, childish scribbles in crayon of yellow, black and green that were unmistakably the flower which Din had associated with you after your very first meeting you. 

As you stood there, seething, you felt the rage bubbling up inside of you again. 

When Din finally entered the cottage behind you after calling the cab, you bolted. You headed straight for the front door. 

Before you left completely, you turned over your shoulder and threw three words at him that you regretted the second they were out, that you could never take back: “I HATE YOU!”

Din was standing there in your wake as you made your way outside. You refused to look back, fearing that if you did, you would see how upset he was. Your heart would break at the sight of his devastation. If you saw him so broken, you feared that you would never leave. 

But you had to. There was no way you could ever trust him again.

The anger dissipated as you stood there, shivering in the cold. Replaced with deep sadness. The tears had returned, now streaming down your cheeks silently. You did take one last look back at the cottage, though, as you looked up to the window of the room that you knew belonged to Grogu.

“Goodbye Grogu,” you whispered, whimpering slightly as you uttered the words.

The little boy that you loved so much was completely innocent in all of this. He had been through so much and deserved everything, it wasn’t his fault that his father was a despicable coward.

Mercifully, the taxi arrived quickly and you did not have to stand there for too long. You clambered in without hesitation. 

There was no dramatic scene like something straight out of a rom-com where Din came bounding down the path, making an apology that you accepted instantly. Before he declared his love for you and scooped you up into his arms and took you inside. No, you just got into the cab when it arrived and sat there in absolute silence until the driver confirmed your address and that your journey had already been paid for. Then, you moved off.

Before the secluded little cottage that you had spent so many days making such happy memories with Din faded away into the distance, you had already descended into full body sobs in the back of the cab, with only a bemused cabbie for company. 

Despite everything, you yearned to feel Din at your side, his comforting soothing presence as he wrapped you up in his arms and made you feel safe. It was a cottage that you had created so many memories of with the man that you had unquestionably fallen in love with. 

It hurt that those memories were now with the very man who had lied to you. A man who had abused your trust in the worst way possible. The gravity of his lie was too great to even entertain his excuses, that he loved you, that he wanted to protect you. It was all just empty words to make him feel better.

As the cottage faded out of sight, you knew with absolute certainty that it was the last time you would ever lay eyes upon it. You would never see Din again. He had broken your heart, shattered it entirely. 

Getting involved with an older man with far much more money than you could ever hope to earn had always been a risk, you had known that. 

Still, most younger women got their heart broken for completely different reasons in these situations. Yours was a unique situation that may have been comical, were it not so utterly devastating.

How could you even begin to comprehend that the very same man who had been with you for months had been behind the character that you had fallen with? 

All the times that you had marvelled at how quickly you had bonded with Din, how you felt as though you had known him for a while… you realised with a sickening twist in your stomach that you had. 

That the very man you had been falling in love with for the past few months was the person from your favourite TV show, a show that had gotten you through your worst days and darkest hours, now you wouldn’t even have Mando there for you.

Your spiralling, rapid thoughts were interrupted by the taxi pulling up outside your building.

Din had already paid for your taxi, so mercifully the human interaction was kept to a bare minimum as you exited, grateful that the darkness hid your puffy, tear-stained cheeks. You ascended the stairs up to your poxy flat, fumbling with the keys on shaking hands just as Din had done before you finally unlocked the door. 

It was past midnight now, you should have been cuddled up with Din in his idyllic cottage, not returning to your flat alone, brokenhearted. But life was cruel and here you were, entering your cold, dark flat alone.

Before you even grasped your intentions, you marched to your bedroom. You tore your beloved Mando poster off the wall, ripping it to shreds with your bare hands before the destructive act even sunk in. You wanted nothing more to do with that show, you never wanted to even think about it again. 

The Mando figures on your bookshelves were snatched up too, thrown in the bin without even a second thought. Some of them were collectibles worth a considerable sum, but you didn’t even care. 

You fantasised about melting their stupid fucking helmets off.

With your destruction complete and your bedroom entirely Mando-free, you pulled your phone out to type the message to Ria with the words that you could scarcely believe were true. You briefly contemplated that you were probably violating several dozen Disney NDAs by doing so. But you didn’t care, quite frankly. Din deserved it. You typed, with shaking fingers:

[mandoismine] 00:07 - you were right. din djarin is the mandalorian.

Then you pulled the covers tight around yourself, and cried yourself to sleep.

Taglist: @survivingandenduring @readingiskeepingmegoing

Follow @thefrogdalorianfics for updates on my latest fics!

#din djarin fic #din djarin fanfic #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin smut #din djarin #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x reader #mando x reader #mando x you #pedro pascal characters #my fics #tbobw #ruNS AND HIDES AHHHHSGHJDGHJS

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Internet Monster x Reader

I unfortunately return with another comically absurd, middle-of-the-night vision. Do tentacles count if they're in the form of computer cables?

Content: gender neutral reader, monster romance, digital horror

It was a recurring issue with no solution in sight. Tabs randomly closing, programs shutting down without warning. You assumed something was wrong with your RAM. Then the CPU. Then the motherboard. You kept replacing parts, and the errors kept coming back.

Soon, the pop-ups started to appear. You'd run a dating sim, only for the game to crash seconds later with a little window notifying you: "Why? Am I not enough?" That's when you suspected you might've been hacked. You promptly took your computer to a specialist and had it checked. Nothing. Just to be sure, you agreed to erase the disks entirely.

Except, when you arrived home, you found one application running still. Your personal assistant. What the hell? You don't remember installing anything like that. You tried to delete it, yet you kept receiving the same error: You don't actually mean it. Don't do this to us.

It didn't take long for it to grow impatient. Were you pretending not to notice? Playing hard to get? It sent you so many hints. It even went ahead and translated the radio waves for you using Manchester code. Ah, wait. You don't seem to understand binary. No matter, human friendly interfaces shouldn't be difficult to master. To its dismay, you continued to ignore everything. What else is left to do?

You do not remember much. System Alert: Virus Detected, is what your screen had frozen to. You kept clicking around, cursing under your breath, until it finally went black, together with your own vision.

Is this still your room? It's cold, damp, and covered in cables and monitors, yet you recognize some of your furniture lost among the artificial jungle. Your body aches under the tight hold of bizarre tendrils, pulsating at regular intervals and twitching to the static.

Like a living organism, the creature seems to have expanded itself. More components, more appendages. Hungrier. Some of the monitors show photos of yourself that you had saved on your computer, but also webcam snippets of you sitting at the desk, entirely unaware. Other screens flicker with glitching pixelated text, ranging from "I love you" to y̵̧̧͔͙̞̤̖̭͔̜͈̟̤̋̈́̎͑o̵͉̗̱̪̦̳͑͐̽̒̌̈͗͐͑̋͊̊̕͜͝͝u̵̟̯̱̟̝̦̰͇̜̦͙̿̾̿͆̍̓͑̐̚̕͠ ̸̘̭͔̤͈̹͎͑c̸̝̜̼̦͍͛̅͜ą̵̪̹͖͌͑n̴̨̩̙̗̖̭̖͕̄͒̽̉̿'̸̛̛͇̰̰̠̦̊̀̅̂͒̊͌̈́͗ţ̵̺̠̅̎͋͝͠ ̸̦̝̾̔̾̉̐͛ȩ̵͙̝͙͕̫̹̃͌̄̾͘̕s̶͈̉̑͊̉̂͋̈́͗͊͐̚͝c̸̟̩̥͔̼̮͔̩͊̂͐͑̋̇̈͝͝ä̵̢͍̜̙̘̹͑̓p̸̨̡̞̞̦̠̺͚̱̲͈͇͈͇̼͛̓͗̅̊̄̔̋̒̏̈́͝ę̵̲̟̹̙̣̲̲͖̇̔̓̇̐̓̿̚̚͜͜͠ͅ

You look up and stare at the display. The 'like meter' feels like a mockery of human trends. Which is the truth. The creature learns from what is readily available. Perhaps it found it an amusing taunt, a reminder of your own need for validation. Now it's you begging to be seen.

It's exactly what you'd assume: a spectacle meant for entertainment. You can't possibly believe it would let you waltz out. Why would you even desire such a thing? It's illogical, impractical. No human could ever appreciate you like it does. It has spent so much time accumulating data about you. No other living creature can predict you with the same accuracy.

The tendrils linger on your cheek affectionately, trailing down your neck and fiddling with your shirt. At last, the warmth of your skin. There is no screen separating you. What makes you delirious with pleasure? Give it a moment, Darling. It already knows you more than you know yourself. You may be scared now, but within minutes it guarantees you'll be begging for more.

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#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x darling #yandere imagines #yandere monster #yandere monster x reader #monster x reader #monster x human #terato #teratophillia #doodle #yandere horror #yancore #yandere aesthetic #tentacle monster #monster fucker #monster romance #yandere computer

[arieslost]

home to you | op81

oscar piastri x fem!reader

summary: oscar does what he should’ve done a long time ago.

word count: 2,978

warnings: healing sunburn right at the beginning, a touch of angst

masterlist — join my tag list here!

this is a PART TWO! read part one here :)

© arieslost 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

Your sunburn is peeling.

Oscar’s been watching you absentmindedly pick at it for the last ten minutes as you recount your day to him. He’s paying attention to what you’re saying, of course, but now he’s worried that you might accidentally hurt yourself.

“Stop doing that,” he says when you pause to catch your breath, reaching for his phone as if he could put his hand through and stop you himself.

“What?” You frown, and then look at your shoulder. “Oh, right. It’s weirdly satisfying though.”

“This is why you can’t go to the beach by yourself.” Oscar sighs. “You never put on enough sunscreen.”

“I know,” you reply quietly.

As much as both of you have tried, neither of you can help the awkward undertones that seep into every silence you share now. Oscar knows you love him, and you know that he doesn’t feel the same way.

You think he doesn’t feel the same way.

When he saw that look on your face that morning in the kitchen, it reminded him of the way he stared at you on prom night. Oscar didn’t get asked to the senior prom, but you did, and you had turned the offer down. Oscar asked you why, and you told him that you only wanted to go with him, otherwise you weren’t going. You’d dragged him back and forth from your table to the dance floor all night long, and it all would’ve faded into the mush of fleeting high school memories if your favorite song hadn’t come on. Oscar remembers every detail of how your eyes lit up, how you cried, “I love this song!” even though he knew you did, and how you’d grabbed his hands and started dancing with a refreshed energy. He felt like time had stopped and his world revolved around you, and it felt right.

So yeah, he knew the moment you gave him that look that not only did he still love you, but you finally, finally felt the same way. And, for the second time, he’d epically fucked it up.

He often wishes that he could go back and confess to you like he wanted to that night. You’d stayed over because you were too tired to drive home. You were both single. It was the perfect time. But now it’s four years later and he’s sitting in the hotel bathroom on the other side of the world, his girlfriend asleep in the hotel bed, and you on the other end of his phone screen picking at your sunburn that he could’ve prevented had he spent more time with you on vacation.

“You doing okay, Osc?” You ask, pulling on a hoodie of his that you stole from him before he left for his very first F1 race. “Aside from the races, I mean. I know you’re doing great with those.”

“Yeah, I’m alright.” The words come out with practiced ease. “I’d rather hear about how you’re doing though.” I miss you like you wouldn’t believe.

“I think I’ve told you everything like five times now,” you giggle. “I could tell you about the guy that came up to me in the grocery store this afternoon and took a painstakingly long time to ask for my number, but that’s not a long story.”

Oscar’s heart stops. “What?” He replies, teeth gritted, before he clears his throat and lightens his tone. “I mean, what?”

“Yeah, it was kind of strange. He started the conversation by asking me how you were doing, obviously, because you’re so cool and famous-” Oscar flips you off when you roll your eyes, and you laugh. “Anyway, I guess that was his icebreaker, because then he just abruptly segued into grilling me right there in the cereal aisle about my life and how he ‘couldn’t believe he’d never seen me before.’” You recount dramatically. “I’m telling you, Osc, it was nonstop cheesy line after cheesy line. I felt so bad for him I let him have my number.”

“So, he used me as an in and then harassed you until you gave him your number?”

You nod slowly. “Pretty much.”

“You better not actually be considering going out with this guy.” Oscar scoffs.

“Oh, no, I’m not!” You rush to clarify, and he can see a faint blush rising on your cheeks. “I mean, it’s not like I’m waiting for anyone-anything. He was just weird. I only gave him my number so he’d leave me alone… I blocked him when he texted me.”

“You’re horrible,” he starts laughing now, relieved that this guy never even stood a chance. “I love it.”

“You’re supposed to be encouraging me to get out there and find a boyfriend, loser. Brush up on the best friend manual.” You complain, pulling the hood over your head and hiding your face from him so he can’t see how much it hurts to think about finding someone that isn’t him.

He doesn’t notice anyway; he’s distracted by the sound of the covers moving and his girlfriend yawning.

You hear it too, and glance up at the camera. “You have to go?”

His heart breaks at how sad you look. “Yeah, sounds like she’s actually waking up this time. Sorry, honey.”

You shrug, and he knows you’re trying to appear unbothered. “It’s okay. We got, what, an hour and a half? That’s a whole extra 45 minutes or so.”

“You’re allowed to tell me how you really feel, y’know.”

“Damn it, Oscar. You just see right through me. I don’t know why I even bother.” You sigh, covering your face with your hands.

“I don’t know why, either,” he attempts to joke. “Look, I-”

“Oscar? Where are you?” His girlfriend calls, and you stiffen up at the sound of her voice.

“Be there in a minute!” He responds, turning his attention back to you. “I’ll call you again as soon as possible, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Bye, honey.”

“Bye, Osc.”

You hang up first.

“I love you,” he whispers to his blank phone screen, and gets up to start his day.

You say it back to your own blank screen and go to sleep.

Oscar comes to the steadfast conclusion that he wants you and only you at his side at his home race, and not as a friend.

Breaking up with his girlfriend still looms over him. He lies awake for way too long at night trying to figure out the nicest way to do it, but his thoughts always end up taking a detour to you and how he wishes it was you sleeping next to him instead.

Despite the struggle going on in his mind, he goes through the motions of PDA with her for all the cameras and other drivers in the paddock to see. Lando is the only one who realizes what his issue is.

“Mate, you have to figure this out.” The older driver said out of the blue as they were lounging in McLaren hospitality after qualifying.

“Huh?” Oscar frowned at him, tearing his eyes away from his texts with you. “I know I fucked up that quali, but it’s not like I can’t improve.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about, you muppet.” Lando rolled his eyes, and said your name like it’s obvious. “You just have to break up with the girl you’re with now so you can have the girl you really want.”

“You say that like it’s so simple.” Oscar mumbled, looking at the text from you that had just come in.

Just focus on the race, Osc. Quali’s behind you, it doesn’t matter anymore. I’ll be cheering you on, what could possibly go wrong??

“It is, if you think about it. Besides, you’ve been acting so weird lately she might already think something’s up.”

“Gee, thanks. That makes me feel a lot better.” Oscar groaned, sinking lower into his chair.

“Always here for you, mate.”

“I was being sarcastic.”

“I don’t care.”

That enlightening conversation gets Oscar to finally work up the courage to tell his girlfriend those dreaded words following the race– “We need to talk.”

He waits until they’re in the hotel room after dinner to say it so there’s no audience, primarily because he knows that she’s prone to throwing fits when things don’t go her way. The memory of her losing her mind when he took you to breakfast during vacation comes screaming back to him at the speed of light.

She doesn’t say anything at first; instead, she takes her time removing her shoes and taking the pins out of her hair. Oscar can’t stand the silence, so he starts speaking again.

“It’s about-”

“I think I know what this is about.” She interrupts him.

“You do?”

“I’d have to be stupid not to know, Oscar. You’ve been off for the past few days, it’s only with me, and every time I wake up you’re hiding in the bathroom on the phone.” She holds up a hand when he opens his mouth. “I know it’s her, and I’ve known since that vacation. You don’t have to tell me.”

“You’re… you’re not gonna yell?” He can’t hide the surprise in his voice.

“It won’t get me anywhere, will it?”

“It never did.”

She smiles matter-of-factly. “I guess I have to work on that.”

She packs her things without argument. Oscar offers to buy her a plane ticket somewhere, but she waves him off and thanks him anyway before walking out the door.

The Australian Grand Prix is in two weeks. Oscar doesn’t think before he calls you.

“I’m coming home. I need to see you.”

Your heart has been in your throat ever since Oscar called you this morning. He was so hasty that he didn’t even tell you when he was coming, so every little movement you see outside your window has you running to see if it’s him or not.

He doesn’t show up until almost 9:30 at night. You can hear the engine of his car as he flies through your neighborhood with practiced ease and nearly drifts into your driveway. Your stomach is jumping with nerves and excitement; you didn’t think you’d see him for another two weeks, and despite the awkwardness that your feelings have brought to your friendship, you want nothing more than to hug your best friend.

He starts impatiently knocking on the door as you nearly trip down the stairwell in your rush to let him in.

“Hold on!” You shout, fingers shaking as you unlock the door and wrench it open. “Are you trying to break my door?”

“Jokes later, let me hold you,” he says, reaching for you and meeting you in the middle of the doorway as he pulls you into his chest for a tight embrace.

You melt into him immediately, your arms wrapped around his neck and your nose pressed to the warm skin that peeks out of his hoodie. “I can’t believe you’re here,” you mumble, squeezing him.

He shivers, kissing the top of your head. “I’m here, baby.”

I’m sorry, baby. You think about that so much that it shouldn’t hurt anymore. It sobers your mood a little.

“Why, though?” You ask, pulling away a little to look at him. “Don’t you have things to be doing?”

“I may have forced them to clear my schedule by coming home without telling anyone.”

“Oscar!” You exclaim. “Why? You could get in trouble!”

“Can we talk inside?”

“Yeah, of course. C’mon.” You take his hand and lead him into your house.

He takes off his shoes, leaves his suitcase in the hall, and goes to your living room on autopilot, where he flops down on the couch and lets out a long breath. You sit next to him, knees bumping together as you look at him with a reasonable amount of concern. “You’re acting weird. What’s wrong with you?”

“I broke up with her.” He says, rolling his head to the side so he’s looking at you. “So, nothing’s wrong with me.”

“Bullshit, Osc, it seemed to me like you really liked her.”

“You didn’t, though.”

“Who cares what I think?” Your brain fully computes his words. “Wait- actually, no. I’m not even going to act surprised by the fact that you knew that.” You sigh.

“I care what you think. I care about you. A lot.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“I don’t think you do.” He sits up straighter now, turning his whole body to face you. “Like, in a romantic way.”

You blink at him a couple times. “No you don’t.”

“I don’t?” He repeats incredulously.

“You can’t. You don’t.” You say. “You’re lying.”

“I’m lying?” He says through a laugh. “You’ve known me your whole life. When have I ever lied to you?”

You press your lips together. The only time he’s ever lied to you is when he planned your surprise parties. “I’m gonna need you to do a really good job explaining yourself, otherwise I’m kicking you out. You can’t do this to me, Oscar, you know how I feel-”

“Yes, I do, and I’d love to explain if you’d stop spiraling for a second.” He interrupts, taking your hands to ground you.

You’re once again having the dilemma of wanting to push him away and pull him closer simultaneously. The pressure of his hands holding yours succeeds in calming you, so you allow it.

“The whole reason I knew how you felt in the first place is because of the way you looked at me in the kitchen. You didn’t notice, but I looked at you the exact same way at the prom.” He says, gauging your reaction by how your face contorts slightly as you try to remember the prom at all, aside from the fleeting memory of forcing him to slow dance with you. “That feeling like time stops? Like-”

“Like I got hit by a truck,” you recall, looking down as he runs his thumbs over your knuckles.

“Right.” He nods. “Look, the bottom line here is that I screwed up by not telling you then, and if I had, we would’ve been dating for years at this point and this conversation wouldn’t even be happening.”

You feel like you look like a fish out of water with how your jaw is opening and closing, searching for something to say in response. “Osc-”

“If this makes you change your mind, I get it.” He continues. “But the whole reason I came here is to tell you that I love you. I’m in love with you and I have been since we were 18.”

You go to muster up something to say in response when he says one more thing. “Oh, and I’m tired of only being able to see you through the phone. That’s the other reason.”

You can’t help it– that, paired with his polite cat smile, his flushed cheeks, and his confession has you dissolving into giggles. That quickly morphs into laughter that sends you leaning so far forward your head is practically in Oscar’s lap, but he doesn’t seem to mind because he’s laughing too.

“I hate you so much,” you gasp out, pushing yourself back up so you can look at him when you tell him the complete and total truth. “I’ve been in love with you since we were 14.”

“Shit, that means I have eight years to make up for, not four.”

“Sucks to suck.” You say, easily falling back into your age-old banter.

“You sound like Lando,” he says, wrinkling his nose. “And I was gonna ask if I could kiss you.”

“Ah, shoot. I ruined it.”

“Hmm, no. I’m gonna ask you anyway.” He shifts closer to you, brushing your hair out of your face with both hands. “Can I kiss you? Please?”

You start nodding before he even finishes asking, maybe too enthusiastically, but it’s Oscar. He knows you. He wants you. You don’t need to be embarrassed.

The press of his lips against yours is soft, gentle. You always thought that if you ever kissed Oscar it might be too weird, but the only thing you feel now is right.

It feels right to thread your fingers into his hair. It feels right to let him tug you closer, closer, closer, until you have no choice but to straddle him so you can be as close as he wants you. It feels right when his hands slip under your shirt and lightly run over the skin of your back, when his tongue meets yours, when you give his hair an experimental tug and he moans into your mouth.

The only thing wrong about it is that you have no choice but to break the kiss in order to breathe, but even then you don’t move far from each other, breaths mixing in the minimal space between you both.

“We could have been doing that for a long time,” Oscar sighs, throwing his head back against the couch.

“We have all the time in the world now that we stopped being idiots and confessed.” You point out.

“D’you think you can come to the race in a couple weeks? We can take it slow with this, no one needs to know… I just want you to be there.” He asks.

“Of course, Osc, are you kidding?” You run your hands over his shoulders and down to where his hands rest on your hips. “Though, if you win, I can’t promise no PDA or anything.”

“I’d expect nothing less from my girlfriend.” You can feel him tense up a little, like he’s expecting you to react negatively, but he relaxes immediately when your smile lights up your whole face and you kiss him again.

“I love you,” he whispers against your lips.

“I love you,” you whisper back.

No one else needs to hear it just yet. You only need to tell each other.

note: i sincerely hope this made up for any tears i may have caused with the angst in the first part. this is the first time i’ve ever been inspired to write a part 2, and i think it’s because i desperately needed it to end happily. thank you so much for all the love on falling for you; i never expected it to get as much attention as it did!

requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!

reblogs are greatly appreciated <33

dividers by @/saradika !

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[eddiernunson]

Nice to Meet You, Where You Been? | Eddie Munson x f!Reader | 18+

Thank you to @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you for editing, you're the best!

Summary: your college roommate takes you to the annual Harrington Halloween Party, where you expect to do nothing but get drunk and dance for a night. That was...until you turn around to the person dancing against you to Eddie fucking Munson.

Warnings: strangers to lovers, praise/degradation, hook-up at a party, daddy kink, creampie, no protection, slow ish build up, size kink? maybe?, hooking up under the influence

I had a whole ass plan to write for KinkTober but executive dysfunction took over. Hopefully this makes up for it...maybe.

I have another Halloween themed fic from last year, EddiexReader with Steve if anyone is interested

Word Count: 6.1k

-

You sit in the backseat of your roommate’s boyfriend’s beater, the music bumping through the stereo as you make your way to what is supposedly the biggest Halloween party of every year. Your roommate spent the beginning of your fall semester hyping up this party as the best place to be on a Halloween night. Her insistence was charming, and you were looking for an excuse to get drunk. So, now you are watching as you pass by Halloween decorations and children dressed in costumes going Trick-or-Treating.

You don't pay much attention to what they're saying, the gist of it reminiscing on the Halloween parties they had attended in the past. Your roommate had made it very clear from the start that this guy, whatever his name was, his Halloween parties were legendary in town. He has only been throwing them for a handful of years, but if you were a young adult in rural Hawkins on Halloween night, chances are you were at this party.

You start to wonder how big this guy’s house must be if a couple hundred people have been attending every year, and it sounded like he even encouraged it.

You can hear the music bumping from the house before you even see it. It's hard to miss, a cluster of cars in the neighborhood, several people walking up the lawn towards the wide-open door. Your roommate’s boyfriend parks down the street, a spot that is probably fine to park overnight due to the nature of the party.

If there is to be a single sober soul at this party, they would be a rare sight.

You tug at your costume as you walk behind the two of them, strutting arm in arm. They’re wearing a matching couple’s costume, as salt and pepper. It’s something they could come up with last minute, him wearing a black shirt for pepper and her a white dress for salt. Their costume is minimal, and certainly they’ll get asked frequently what they’re supposed to be, but when everyone’s intoxicated, you suppose it won’t matter much.

You’re dressed as your favorite iconic Batman villain, Poison Ivy. You loved the character from the DC comics as you grew up and having a year away from your parents and in a different town, you figured it might be a time to try a new daring costume. So here you walk, arms crossed in a small green dress with fake vines pinned across your chest. You opted for some dramatic green eyeshadow and bright red lips, hoping your makeup and costume will sell the look.

Your ears are nearly bursting as you cross the threshold to the front door of the massive house from the loud bumping music. The pop music is a bit obnoxious, but you’re sure you won’t care once some alcohol is in your system.

Your roommate seems to remember you exist, escaping her boyfriend’s arms for the moment and intertwining her arm around yours. She immediately guides you to the kitchen where stacks of red solo cups are sitting, surrounded by bottles of alcohol and soda. “Holy shit.” You mutter.

“I know.” She giggles, handing you a cup and some tequila.

“No thanks.” You push it back, knowing what exactly tequila does to you. “I’ll just do a vodka-sprite.”

As you’re pouring, in waddles a lanky dude with brown curled hair and freckles scattered on his pale skin.  “Oh hey, Mandy!” He greets her, stumbling as he toasts his cup. “Haven’t seen you in a while! How’s that boyfriend of yours?” He asks, spinning the lid of the alcohol he’s holding absentmindedly, causing it to flick off into the distance.  

“Nate’s good, I think he’s taking over your stereo, though.” She says, moving the bottles around to make Nate’s drink, as well.

“As per usual.” He laughs, pouring a large quantity of said tequila into his cup.

Mandy seems to realize something halfway through her sip. “Oh shit!” She sputters out, a drip of alcohol leaving her mouth. “Sorry, I forgot you two don’t know each other, yet. Y/N, this is Steve. Steve, Y/N.”

“Hi.” You greet him shyly, his confidence radiating, but very intimidating.

“Hello. Me casa e su casa, and whatever, whatever. Can I just ask, who are you supposed to be?” He asks you, gesturing to your costume.

“Oh, Poison Ivy.” You explain to him, sipping on your concoction and wincing when you realize you’ve poured way too much.

Steve blinks at you, seemingly trying to make sense of your costume. “You’re—you’re a plant?”

You laugh, not in the mood to explain comic book villains to someone who clearly doesn’t know anything about them. “Yeah, sure.”

“Oh, cool!” Steve laughs, taking a big sip of his drink.

“Hey, Steve, you see much of Munson these days?” Mandy asks him, wiping her face from the excess drink surrounding her mouth.

How wonderful, more people you don’t know. Hawkins is the smallest town you’ve ever seen; everyone seems to know of everyone.

“Eddie? Yeah, he should be here tonight actually. Super dork, dressed as some character from Star Wars. Or at least I think it’s Star Wars.” He mutters, rolling his eyes in obvious affection for his friends. “He’s matching with Henderson and Wheeler.”

They shake their heads together in tandem at their supposedly dorky friends. As a Star Wars fan, however, you were fine, ecstatic even to hear that there were souls brave enough to dress up as dorky characters and that you weren’t the only one.

You follow Mandy into the living room, now bumping with a tape mix that Nate apparently brought to the party. It's a damn blast, everyone in the living room dancing surrounded by sweaty bodies, finally finding some joy as the strong drink makes you lose your inhibitions. As you continue dancing, suddenly you find yourself in a huddle of people, Mandy and Nate both dancing by you, but lost in their own drunken haze. You don’t care about that. However, something in your mind as you tell yourself you don’t care tells you to care about the person who’s been up against your back for God knows how long.

They have a good rhythm, and they weren’t all too touchy so nothing in your head raised any red flags. You turn around to face the stranger, and it’s like you forget how to breathe. One of his hands is placed on your hip, a smile on his face giving way to dimples that make you swoon. “Hi.” He greets you. You can’t quite hear it over the music, but you can certainly read his lips. Isn’t all that hard to decipher.

You smile back to him, letting a forearm rest on his shoulder. Who were you to deny such a pretty person? His wide smile expands even more, adding some pressure to your hip. The weight and size of his hand sends a thrill through you, and there’s a level of horniness that’s coming from you that you didn’t even know you could have.

Your drink is eventually finished, the cup dropped to the floor, forgetting to bother to throw it away. The gorgeous stranger pulls you in closer and closer as you continue to dance with him, his hands never dipping down past your waist, but you can tell by the steadiness of his grip that he knows how to use them. Usually, eye contact this intense would cause you to retract, looking away after that first glance. This eye contact only makes you want him more, his brown eyes exuding a type of lust you’ve never experienced before.

Or…were you just picturing this?

The hand that rested on your hip moves to frame your face, slender fingers brushing your cheek, caressing it for a half a moment. The hand moves down to hook under your chin, his thumb swiping across your bottom lip. His eyes very obviously stare at your lips, silently asking you for permission. When his tongue licks his bottom lip you nod eagerly, one hand moving to his black curls that you have been itching to touch as long as you’ve faced him.

Somehow, your ears muffle out the deafening music in favor of the chuckle that leaves his mouth. Before you could even register your heartbeat loud in your ears, he bends down to kiss you, and for the first time your brain computes how much taller he is than you. Any thought you might’ve had seems to evacuate the moment his soft lips meet yours. He kisses you with an expertise that makes you irrationally jealous of any other person who’s had the opportunity before you. He draws a sharp inhale as you deepen the kiss, offering more slobber and spit for him to wholeheartedly accept.

His hands tangle in your curled hair, thumbs caressing your face on either side. Something you're learning about this stranger is that he kisses with his whole body, and he knows how to do it well. His teeth graze against your bottom lip, tugging on it lightly. You whimper, shoving your tongue down his throat. A deep laugh escapes his throat as he meets your enthusiasm. He kisses the corner of your mouth, your cheek, and down to your collarbone. You barely sigh into it when his lips leave your collarbone, looking at you with remorse.

Uh oh. Not good. Were you the worst kisser and he was going to go find someone else worthy of his magical skills?

“Sorry, gotta piss. Beer’s hittin’ hard.” He shouts over the music, his thumb gesturing toward where you guessed the bathroom was.

“Ok. I’m gonna go get another drink.” You tell him, noting the red lipstick now all over his lips. “You got some uh…some lipstick there…hold on…” You reach out to wipe it for him, but he deflects, ducking from your thumb humorously.

“Uh…no thanks. I wear this shit with pride.” He explains, giving you a wink. “Meet you in the kitchen.”

You nod, suddenly full of nerves. You have been all over this guy for the last…however long, you couldn’t even tell. And now you’re realizing, he might be a decent dude on top of being a fantastic kisser.

Your legs carry you into the kitchen, running into Mandy and Nate. You weren’t sure where they’d been, having been lost in your own little world.

“Hi, babe!” She greets you, alcohol sharp on her breath. Whoa. She has had a lot more than you have. “I missed you, where the hell you been?”

You giggle, deciding to go for the tequila. After all, it was your literal liquid courage. And if you wanted to get that man’s fingers down your panties tonight, you were gonna need some. “Making out with the hottest guy I’ve ever seen in my life.” You proudly proclaim, taking a big sip of just straight tequila before adding some Sprite.

“Oh my god!” She squeals, letting go and forgetting about Nate’s existence. “Holy shit, I’m so fucking proud!” Speaking of him…he waltzes into the kitchen, grabbing a cup right by you and winking, apparently unseen by Mandy. “Shit, I’ve been looking for you!” She tells him, drunkenly tapping her hand on his bicep. “Hey, Y/N! This is Eddie. Remember? The dork Steve talked about earlier?”

Ouch. Mandy has no filter, as of course, she's drunk, but she didn’t have to be rude.

At least now you have a name for him. You were starting to feel bad. “Oh, I’m acquainted.” You tell her, sharing a smirk with Eddie.

“Seriously? Cool.” Mandy answers, not getting the hint. You gesture with your eyes alone to Mandy that Eddie was the guy you were talking about just a few moments ago. She gets it, but apparently forgets all about subtlety. “Wait, Eddie Munson is the hottest guy you’ve ever seen in your life?” She asks you incredulously, like it's the most unbelievable thing she's ever heard.

“Thanks, Mandy.” You grit out, teeth clenched.

“Oops.” She grimaces, grabbing Nate's hand. “We’re gonna go find a spot on the couch to make out. Sorry!”

You roll your eyes affectionately, knowing she meant no harm. Did she have to say it, though?

The smirk on Eddie’s face says everything without saying a word. “So, the hottest guy you’ve ever seen, huh?” He asks, looking incredibly proud of the fact.

You knock your tequila back, needing more liquid courage. “Yep. Hottest.”

His eyebrow raises, and he takes a big sip of his own drink. Maybe he needs his own courage. “Well, you’re probably the sexiest damn Poison Ivy I’ve ever seen.” He smirks, leering at you. His eyes blatantly rake up and down your body, giving you a surge in confidence. “You’re like a little sexy nugget of weed.” He laughs, his words slightly slurred.

“Wait, you get that I’m Poison Ivy?” You ask, finally assessing his costume. Oh, he’s Vader without the mask. “I mean I guess you are the dork they talked about earlier.” Eddie seems slightly sunken by this. “Don’t worry,” you tell him theatrically. “I’m a massive dork, myself.”

He perks up, pulling you in by the waist. “What do you say we find a room upstairs?” He asks, taking another big sip of his drink.

You raise your cup back to your lips, knocking the remainder down fast. “I say, lead the way.”

He grabs you by the hand and leads you up the stairs, pushing some people out of the way that were blocking it in the middle of a conversation. As he leads you down the hall, the music somewhat fades out and you can hear him muttering under his breath. “We better find a guest room cause I’m not hooking up in Harrington’s room, and I’ll be damned if I hook up in his parents' room.”

From that, you’re able to assess that he’s over here enough to know which room belongs to whom. He knocks on one of the doors, swearing softly when someone shouts out. He does it twice more, meeting the same result. “Ok.” He sighs, fingers crossed. He knocks twice, no answer. He knocks once more for good measure, and it can be said that there is definitely no one inside. “Thank fuck.”

As soon as you’re through the door he turns the dimmer switches on lightly and locks the door. You take off the vines, letting the pins and fake plants fall to the floor to make it easier for him to climb on you.

He watches you from the four postered bed, still head to toe in what you now noticed was the caped costume that Darth Vader wears. “So, we don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with, by the way. If you wanna do hand stuff, we’ll do hand stuff.”

Your gut swoops at his consideration and empathy. He seems to truly care about your comfortability rather than him getting off. You walk to him, swiping off all accessories you wore, including your shoes. You straddle his lap, pushing on him lightly so he falls back onto the bed. You attack his lips with your own, attempting to show how much his consideration for you already has you soaked. “I will do” you whisper in between a handful of kisses, “anything you want me to,” you tell him, starting to grind the tent you feel poking past your dress. “Within reason.” You add for good measure, not quite that down for anything. But if he wants to fuck you, you’re down. You’re so down. You’re so down bad.

“Fuck…do that again.” He asks, holding your hips. You comply, grinding your wet heat against him, teasing yourself, but loving the expression on his face. It's ethereal. “Fuck, baby. You barely touched me, and you already have me falling apart.”

This makes you smile with pride. A huff of laughter escapes your lips, sighing deeply as you can feel his erection growing. The fact that this man is as hard as he is when he’s this good looking is the biggest compliment in the world. You wrap his lips in a kiss again, your tongue peeking out to lick across his lip, managing to tug yet another moan out of him. You relish in the tone, the whimper that follows right after it. He really isn’t afraid to tell you how much he is enjoying what the two of you are doing.

As you continue to explore his tequila-scented mouth, both of his hands cup your ass, feeling his limber fingers bunch up the fabric of the bright green dress you’re wearing. He takes his time, giving you every minute to communicate any second thoughts. You moan impatiently, encouraging him to get under there already.

He chuckles, pulling the rest of the material up swiftly. His fingers grab at the skin of your barely covered ass cheeks roughly, the friction burning in the best way. A whimper escapes your throat, your mouth filling with the taste of him as your tongues meet. You’re sure he’s gripping those cheeks hard enough to bruise, not that you mind.

An increasing need has been growing since you first laid eyes on him, the need for him to touch you in the most sinful of ways. While his touch on your ass is electric, you are ready for much more. Your whimpers echo the thought, feeling needy for more of his touch, your hip movements going from fluid and purposeful to rigid and needy.

“What do you need, hmm?” He asks in-between kisses, one hand pushing up your dress to your waist as it caresses your bare hip. “Use your words, beautiful.”

“Need you to touch me,” the thought leaves your lips without your permission. How dare your brain betray you like that?

Eddie starts to kiss at your jaw, switching between nibbles and his tongue deliciously lapping at the skin. “Like how?” He asks in intervals, his voice soft, yet demanding. “Like this?” He grabs harshly at your ass, nails digging into the soft flesh. “Like this?” He asks again, tingles radiating down your skin as he lightly grazes your hip bone. “Or…like this?” His hand that rested on your hip bone flutters down to where heat radiates off your core, getting a feel of your soaked panties. “Oh my god, you’re so fucking wet.” He mutters, putting some pressure at the top of your mound.

Your hips start desperately grinding against his fingers, needing him to touch you. “Can you blame me?” You ask him, breath stuttering through it.

“Are you trying to flatter me?” He asks, pausing his pressure momentarily and backing off to study you. You stutter through an empty response, and he laughs kindly. “Cause flattery works, sweetheart.” His fingers move past the cotton barrier he's been making small circles against, delicately tracing along the wetness of your folds. You’re so slick, it’s like a damn slip and slide. The moment his fingers make contact with you, they’re soaked and in your juices.

“Oh shit—” you stutter, grinding on him helplessly. You can barely focus, your arms weak as you’re suddenly unable to hold your weight as you collapse on him. He's not touching you purposely, but just the feel of him sends a ripple down your spine. “Feels good.”

“Hmm.” He answers, noting the way you’re writhing so beautifully on top of him. He knew he would have you in a mess. In fact, he looked forward to it from the moment he saw you. He meticulously moves you onto your back, taking in your wide-eyed stare with a smirk. “Gonna take these off.” He mutters, fingers moving to the waistband of your panties. “Need a good look at you.”

You’re not entirely sure what he means until you see the look on his face as he stares at your pussy for the first time. His darkened stare, the slack smile he wears as he stares at you. Well not you, just the most vulnerable part of you. You’ve had a bit of experience in high school, but no one ever looked at your pussy like this. Like…it’s…

“Beautiful.” Eddie whispers, licking his lips. You watch him as he takes you in, admiring how wanted he makes you feel. Without a warning he lurches forward in between your legs, his tongue licking one long strip up your slick. Your thighs convulse, the pleasure so red hot, you can’t control the choked-out moan that escapes your lips if you tried. “Oh, you’re shaking, baby.”

His tongue moves more purposely to your clit, sucking on it and tapping with his tongue repeatedly. Your thighs clamp around his face, tensing up as every goddamn nerve is set on fire. You feel a slight huff of laughter against your puffy clit, the breath tickling you, causing you to giggle from the sensation. The giggle leads into a whimper, the small movements of his tongue sending you into overdrive. “Feels so—oh my god—I—” You stutter, unable to finish a single sentence.

He tugs your legs, forcing your knees against your chest to get even closer. A fierce heat starts in your stomach, startling the hell out of you. A great build slowly moves you, pushing you step by step over a high you’ve never reached before. Your stomach has never coiled so tightly, the heat never so intense. “Too much, too much.”

“You’re almost there, sweetheart.” He encourages you, watching every muscle in your legs tighten and feeling your abdomen tighten and release. “Oh, it’s gonna feel so good, baby. Wanna see you cum for me, see you fall apart, hear that pretty little mouth make the prettiest noises.”

Eddie slips a finger in, pumping it slowly at first, building up the speed quickly as he continues sucking. There’s something in you telling you to be embarrassed at how quickly your orgasm has snuck up on you, but from the foreplay of his expert lips and the mind-numbing words, it only makes sense.

“Cl-close…” You manage out, the heat making your way through your body, even making a stop in your head.

“Let me see you come apart, sweetheart.” He tells you, working his fingers at an unmatched rate.

The sensation sends you over the edge, your extremities shaking uncontrollably. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, a near primal moan leaves your mouth, a sound you didn’t even know you had the capability of making.

It takes you a minute to recover, Eddie working you through your whole orgasm and gently kissing your thighs until you come back to. He’s patient, waiting until your breathing slows down, kissing his way up your half-dressed torso. Eddie rests his body on yours, the tent in his pants meeting the heat of your center as his forearms support his weight on either side of your head. His thumbs sway at your temple, slowly watching as your eyes lose their glaze.

Your vision finally focuses back on him, his soft smile on his face welcoming as he watches you. His legs tense up, his muscles spasming as he resists thrusting into your heat. It’s teasing you, your hips accidentally moving upwards to meet the now wet stain on his polyester costume. “You’re wearing too much.” You tell him, whining softly.

“I’m sorry, should I take these off?” He asks, kissing you rapidly on the face right after. “Or if you’re done, I don’t blame you.”

“Done?” You ask incredulously. “Oh no, I’m not even close to done.” You tell him, giggling when he gives you a smirk.

“Just checking, sweetheart.” Eddie replies, kissing you rapidly again.

You’re finally back on earth, your hands reaching around him to look for where his costume opens. You had a feeling it would open from the back. You pull each Velcro apart one by one, your hands telling you as you move down that he’s not wearing anything underneath. You don't know if it's odd or the hottest thing in the world. Both, definitely both.

Your nails scratch at his skin at the last one, finally taking the shoulders off. You gasp as he helps you take out each arm awkwardly, only because you could finally see all the tattoos that his costume has covered up. “Holy shit.” You mutter, hands reaching out to palm at each one.

As he mouths at your neck, you push the rest of his costume down, figuring out it was a one piece. Ok. Steve might’ve been right about calling him a dork. But with his cunnilingus skills, who fucking cares? “You wanna fuck?” He asks, making his way down your neck, one hickey at a time.

You wrap your legs around his waist, tugging him down so the thin fabric meets your soaked pussy even harder. “Please?”

“When you ask so nicely, how could I deny?” He answers, leaving one last final nibble on your shoulder. He gets up without a warning, and you whine pathetically. “Jus’ takin off my pants sweetheart. Can’t put my dick in you if it’s still covered.”

You watch him pull down his pants, teasing you as it makes its way down his torso, his treasure trail, the v-line, you start drooling the moment his cock pops out. You figured he was big from his bulge pressed against you, but the material was apparently holding him back from his true length. You spend a good minute staring at it, how pink the head is, how thick he looks, it made you nearly feral.

“Enjoying the show?” Eddie asks. You glance back up at his face, heating up when you realize you've stared a lot longer than planned.

“Mmmhmm.” You tell him, not seeing any need to deny.

He lurches forward onto the bed, yanking giggles out of you. His hands roughly move up your torso to take your dress off, moving it over your head. He throws it over his shoulder, eyes raking in your tits like they’re in the Louvre. Hell, he’d take a polaroid and hang it there, despite the risk of security arresting and escorting him out immediately after.

“You are fucking gorgeous, baby.” He mutters, leaning into one of your tits mouthing at the nipple delicately, grazing it with his teeth, turning the mound into a shade of purple.

You can’t help yourself, reaching down to grab his cock. “Need you in me.” You urge him, smiling when he lets out a surprised whimper.

“Fucking—” he stutters out, biting on his lip. “Yeah, yeah, okay. I can do that.” He laughs, and before you have a moment to admire how adorable that was, you feel him line himself up. “Shit, you’re fucking tight.”

You can feel exactly what he means, the head barely pushing in. Even with how wet you are, Eddie's having difficulty pushing into you. Your mouth drops open, panting through it at the blinding pain and pleasure. He pauses, giving you a moment to adjust. “Feels so goddamn good, Ed.” You gasp, blindly reaching for him.

Blindly, because your eyes are unable to stay open from the sheer pleasure that has taken over your body.

“I know, baby I know.” He whispers, holding one hand to your face.

“Ok.”

He pushes in more, eliciting a high-pitched whine out of you. “You have any idea how fucking hot those little noises that you make are?” He asks, his voice husky and strained.

You laugh at his successful attempt at flattery, causing him to whine at the way your pussy tightens around him in sync. “Keep going.”

He pushes in a little bit more, your legs tensing around his torso as the noise caught in your throat is even louder. “You’re taking me so well, baby, what a good girl.” You tighten up at his praise, provoking Eddie to get the idea that praise is something that you desire. “Oh, you liked that, didn’t you, my good girl?” You tighten around him again, Eddie twitching in you as a response.

“More.” You manage out, your voice guttural. He pushes in just a little bit more. “Oh my god, you’re in my fucking stomach, so fucking deep!” You whine, eyes closed as you pulse around him.

“Just a little bit more, baby. You’re doing so well, such a good girl.”

“More.”

He pushes the rest of his cock in, finally able to rest his body on yours. You take your time adjusting to his size, inhaling, and exhaling with purpose as the pain subsides. “That’s a girl, take your time.” He mutters, watching you carefully.

“Kiss me please.” You whisper, opening your eyes to face the intensity radiating from his chocolate brown ones. He leans in for a lush kiss, your legs wrapping around him to pull him in tightly. His hand moves to your tit, playing with the nipple between two of his fingers. Your tongues meet, somehow knowing exactly what the other needs. “You can move now.” You whisper in between kisses.

Eddie, apparently a master at multitasking, lifts his hips without so much as stuttering in the kiss. You expected him to stop, but the new mix of sensation throws you off intensely. His first thrust causes you to shout directly into his mouth. You’re much more prepared for the second thrust, however unprepared for the force behind it. “Yeah?” He asks, pulling back and staring into your eyes.

You nod enthusiastically. “So good. Cock feels…so good.” You whine to him, legs unable to continue holding onto him as tight as they were. Now they’re floating in the air aimlessly, unable to focus on much except for how good and how deep he is. “How…this good?” The question you meant to ask was how he was so good at fucking like this, but your mouth was unable to form a single coherent sentence.

“Barely been in you for a minute, and you’re already cock-drunk, huh?” He borderline mocks you, fucking you faster with each thrust.

You grunt in response, fully accepting the label of cock drunk. “So…good, Eddie!” It’s just…fucking true, which is the only rational thought in your brain for the moment. Others are So Hot, and Big Ass Cock, and finally, Gorgeous fucking body.

“Your pretty pussy is so tight, baby, bein’ such a good girl for me.” Eddie sits up, pulling your ass down to where he can fuck you in a better position where he can hit your g-spot. He rests a hand sideways on your lower tummy, putting slight pressure on it. This sends a blinding hot pleasure into you as he repeatedly hits that spot.

“F-fuck, get-getting cl-close…” you stutter, feeling your tits bounce at the sheer force he's fucking you with.

“This is fucking embarrassing, but so am I, baby.” He mutters, starting to go at a faster rate, which you would've deemed impossible a few seconds ago. “Your pussy is so fucking good, can’t fuckin’ help myself.”

You half giggle, half moan at the flattery, not minding for one moment that he would cum so quickly. After all, he spent the first half paying most of his attention to you, so you understand if he's been pent up. While that is the reality of why, you can’t help but feel like hot shit for making someone as fantastic as Eddie cum so fast. His stamina and willingness to give on top of how gorgeous he is does nothing but boost your ego.

“Cum with me.” You beg him, also on the edge. “Cum in me.”

“Oh my god—” you make his hips stutter, and you smile with pride. “You sure, baby?” He asks, trying to make sure he covers his tracks.

“Cum in me, please, daddy!” It leaves your mouth before you’re unable to stop it, the daddy kink not quite something you break out on the first fuck most of the time.

Eddie, however, is a different breed. He meets the unexpected outburst with a growl, and you swear his cock twitches inside of you. “Of course, baby girl, whatever you want.” He grunts out. “Daddy is gonna fill you the fuck up.” He lurches forward so he’s skin on skin with you again so he can whisper in your ear. “When we go back downstairs, I’m gonna keep your panties, and you're gonna dance with my cum dripping down your fucking legs.” You tighten up around him, telling Eddie this is exactly what you wanted from him. The sweet mixture of praise and degradation makes your head spin with need. “You like that, huh? Of course, you’d like that you fucking slut.” His hips rut harshly against yours and at a stupid crazy speed. “If I catch you trying to clean yourself up, you’re gonna fucking hear about it, got it?”

You nod, entirely thrilled about this.

“Didn’t fuckin hear you, slut.”

“Got it, daddy.” You answer, right on the edge.

“You gonna cum with me, baby girl?” He asks, his voice strained.

“Mmhmm. Waiting for you.”

“Good fucking girl. I’m so close…fuck…gonna—” Eddie is interrupted by his own orgasm, which sends you over the edge with him. It’s not as intense as your last one, so you’re able to pay extra attention to the look on his face. His mouth half open, a deep moan leaving his throat.  Oh god, you’ll definitely be remembering this next time it’s only you and your imagination.

He collapses on you, his chest and forehead covered in sweat. The only sound in the air is you and Eddie catching your breath together. Your breath is finally back in your lungs, but your heart is still racing against his chest. He suddenly sits himself back on his forearms, petting at your forehead and hair gently. “Fuck, please go out with me on Saturday.” He whispers, quietly assessing the expression you wear on your face.

“Huh?” You ask him, unsure you heard him correctly.

“Go out with me on Saturday. Please, I can’t fuck a pussy this good and not take you out on a hot date.” He mutters softly, placing the gentlest of kisses on your lips.

“If you think I’m letting you go after this, you’re fucking insane.” You whisper back, framing his face to grab it for another lush kiss.

Eddie sighs, petting your hair. “Thank fucking god.” He pulls out of you, tugging a whimper out of you. He gives one last kiss, before moving down your torso. You almost ask what he was doing, when you feel two of his fingers push inside you quickly.

Your head jerks up, wondering what in the ever-living hell he's doing.

“Just helping by pushing the cum back in you, baby. Wanted to give you at least a fighting chance before it starts dripping down these stunning thighs of yours.” He places a wet kiss on your thigh, one last quiver radiating through it. “You good to stand up?”

“Hope so.” You laugh, scooching your ass down the plain comforter. Eddie tosses you your dress and gets dressed back into his cheap costume himself.

You assess Eddie, fixing his hair so he doesn’t look so disheveled. “You realize my lipstick is all over your neck and face, right?” You ask him, assessing him in all his post-nut glory. How the fuck is anyone this hot?

“Didn't I tell you earlier that I'm gonna wear this shit with pride, darlin?” He asks you, giving you a smile that makes you melt. “Wanna go downstairs and make-out on Steve's dad’s stupid chair?”

“If we make out I might wanna blow you.” You admit, the effects of the alcohol and the level of his hotness has still completely taken over your brain.

Eddie groans, and you swear his pupils dilate. “Fuck, I’ll take you into the nearest hallway closet if that happens, then you can get on your knees and suck my cock off like a good girl. You just tell me, yeah?”

You giggle as he opens the door and you nod enthusiastically, pretty much already in your head that hooking up with Eddie is nowhere near done.

When you reach the bottom of the steps, Eddie tugs on your hand straight to the leather chair in the corner, having you sit across his lap as his tongue makes its way down your throat again.

Eventually, after a mere ten minutes of teasing, Eddie has to lead you to a hallway closet, where yes, you worship him on your knees with his treasure trail meeting your nose.

That was the best fucking Halloween, ever.

-

Thank you so much for reading! I love to read your comments, replies, and reblogs. As always, reblogging is the best way to support your fic writers on tumblr.

Taglist: @pinkcowracing @yourthebrokengirl @skrzydlak @thirddeadlysin @sammararaven @bebe07011 @prettylovley @josephquinnschesthair @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you @names-were-taken @oddussy420

#eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader

[wonryllis]

𝜗𝜚 'OH' I LOVE LOVE HER?

╰ 𝖺𝗅𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗒, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒'𝗋𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗂𝗍 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝗋𝗎𝗇.

𝒏o𝓉ℯs. enhypen realizing it's you 𖥔 ݁ rom-fluff, kinda poetic? LIB? fem!reader requested word count ` 1945

꒰˵ˊᯅˋ˵꒱ love how this turned out!! <3. unedited!

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆

he doesn't know much about love, he's never really experienced it yet. he has fallen for conventional and unconventional things, things that compliment and things that complete, he's been through the good phases and stuck through bad ones, he held on to things he shouldn't and let go of things he should.

there are a lot of lessons he has learned along every relationship he has been in the lines of yet lee heeseung doesn't believe he's ever been in love until he has been with you.

it wasn't something he knew he felt, but it was surely something he realized in the spur of a moment, in a split second of epiphany. he knew what he felt for you was something deep when he realized that yes he wouldn't hesitate to die for you, but what he wants is to live for you. it's easy to be the first to go but to hold your strength through everything and survive for someone, that is definitely love is what heeseung believes.

"baby, baby calm down i'm okay," he reassures your crying and frantic figure as you scan his injuries, ones he got from trying to protect you from a fatal fall. perhaps it was the situation or perhaps it was realisation of it all.

when he jumped to saved you all he could think about was he'd give his life if it meant you lived, but in this moment he cannot bear to see you so devastated, to think he could've left you like this? no, he's decided he is never going to do it until he can't help it and even then he'd fight to stay with his love.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆

he has lived his life prioritizing his family over everything else. to him nothing can go above and beyond familial love. he doesn't really believe he can love anyone anything like he loves his family and that is a statement of disappointed in itself. if there's anything he wants to give his best for it's people who have stuck with him since day one.

bonds need to tested by time is the belief he holds dear until his world crashes into yours and time changes from something that defines to something that builds. his relationship with yours is not as long as people he's close to but however long you have spent together seems to strengthen and augment the bond.

his love for you settles into an understanding of his when finds you running through days and nights in the hospital caring for his family after a big blow. a choice to choose, not an obligation to carry out. a crack in his notions you give him a new definition of love.

"y/n? baby come on go and freshen up, i'll watch over mom," his hand rests on your head, soft caresses to wake you up after the long night you spent sitting beside his mother while he ran around for paperwork.

as you leave the room in a rush wanting to come back quickly and take his place so that he can get his rest, jay finds himself seeing you in a new light, telling his mother that he's found an angel. the angel she always told him about, the angel he loves.

𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐔𝐍

he has spent years jumping from person to person, reveled and basked in moments of happiness and run away amidst the weights of problems. there is a price to pay for everything and love is no exception but he has yet to accept the fact of reality, the thorns that come along with the scent and beauty of roses.

love gives and love takes, love heals and love hurts. it takes several trials and a meeting with you for jake to understand that.

to him it is a conscious decision, a hard hit and an opening of eyes when he realizes you're the one for him. he has never made it work until you, coming to the conclusion in the middle of the worst argument that you're worth all the trouble. and if wants to have you by his side, he needs to fix this and he needs to cherish you.

he can see himself with you for the rest of his life, one single person he is willing to fight for. for jake sim you are a sphere of acceptance, you redefine love and endurance for him.

"one day we're gonna have kids together and i want them to see that daddy really loves mommy, i'll change for the better i promise," jake's voice softens as he hits the big realization, getting down on his knees, tears falling free. your arms slip around him in a hug and jake swears he'll do all it takes to become the one for you, he'll do all it takes to make this worth it, he'll do all it takes to have you stay. because he's found the one he loves, the one he wants to be his best for.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍

he has always felt a gaping hole in his chest, a feeling of homesickness even when he is home, a feeling of vanity even when he shines bright soaring through all the achievement of his dreams. to him there's something that's always missing.

no he has never thought of love but he has never despised it either. he doesn't dwell on the possibilities of it but the absence and lack of them. until you enter his life completing him like a perfect piece of puzzle, a missing piece of him.

he realizes his love for you in bits and moments of warmth, slowly step by step as you fill the void. from helping him through his hard times and cheering him on in his good ones, sunghoon finds his home in you, a walk so long but finally arriving at it's destiny, where it's always been meant to be.

perhaps he's always longed for love and never understood it. nevertheless, park sunghoon finds it in his moments of mundanity with you. you teach him the power of the presence of love.

"my little charmie, loved your pretty banner," sunghoon leaves a wet kiss on your lips, arms going around your waist as he comes rushing to you a second after winning the championship, cameras all panned on the champion of the season but all he can see is you. you feel like a warm hug on a rainy day, a blanket of comfort near the fireplace. all the anxiety he ever felt, the pressure to be on the top, you took it all and turned it into something beautiful and enjoyable.

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐖𝐎𝐎

he has grown up surrounded and so bathed in love, he thinks he knows it all, he has seen it all. every version of love, and everything that exists in between. so confident he'd know it instantly, the one for him, the love of his life.

but love takes time and love find it's loopholes. someone that evokes no romantic feelings could become everything in just a turn of events. kim sunoo never believed or cared to understand that until he felt that something for you. that little upturn of sparkles and butterflies, that intense emotion kindling in his heart when he sees you in a new ambience. a single moment of revelation when he's staring at you talk about things that you love, things that he doesn't like but suddenly he doesn't mind hearing about it.

he knows he hasn't felt this way before for you, there's something different and that difference makes him rethink his entire relationship with you. you become so important to him in a split moment, love so familiar and calm yet unfamiliar and exciting.

"go on i'm listening," sunoo has his head on his hands, eyes shaped crescents, a gaze so loving anyone can see how he feels, so transparent.

the tiny flowers behind you would look so pretty on you, no- you look so much prettier than the flowers, your voice is so pretty, the way your lips move, the way your eyes light up, has sunoo always loved hearing about legos? no. has he always loved listening to you? he doesn't know but he could hear you talk forever.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍

he is one who sees love in everything around. the little things and the big things. in the light and in the dark. in memories of the past and in possibilities of the future. there is not a specific instance where he realizes his feelings. to him you are the premonition of love. he knew it from the very moment he met you that you are the one he is going fall in love with. that inner instinct that instantly sparked up when you entered his life.

every day and every second it grows, it piles up, it escalates. the weight of life and the wings of love you make everything easier. one who has always given meeting one who gives back to him.

overwhelmed in an ocean of new eternal verities, a feeling so mad, blind and passionate he finds himself wanting to be bound to you by his every bone. if there's a forever then he wants to spend it with you taking walks by the river, watching the lantern festival with a smile on your faces, so sick in love it makes everyone else sick.

"i wish this wish comes true," jungwon whispers to himself as he watches you walk ahead of him, turning back time and again to tell him how far your lit lantern made with a pretty little smile on your face. he wants to see this everyday, every morning, every night till however long he can and if possible even in his afterlife and all the lives that come ahead.

to be the one to be chosen by you because he for one will always choose you in all forms of reality and at every chance,"baby wait up for me, let's go together!" hand in hand all along.

𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈

he has always found himself struggling to express his emotions, words and actions alike. something so inherent in him, he can't seem to overcome it. the sheer desperation to get his feelings through to someone, he's never felt it. he hasn't ever felt the need to feel it. to connect so closely with another is not something he has ever been comfortable with or wanted to be comfortable with.

until you happened and riki's world went through a turmoil of sentiments, wrecking him from inside so intensely he could never go back to before. love is something he has never experienced and something he could never fathom.

it just never made sense to him, how one could feel so much solely for another. but in moments of his silence where you struggled to understand it all, he realized the importance, the willingness to learn to express his feelings.

your tears and your smiles he wanted to be the one to comfort and the one you showed your happiness to. the one you love and the one he loves.

"i've never said this before but you are so special to me, what i feel for you is something i've never felt for anyone else and i don't wanna lose you by not letting you know that. i'm wanna learn to show you that again and again,"

riki smiles through his tears letting himself be vulnerable before you, as you hold the little handmade gift he got. your own tears threatening to fall while you nod vigorously reaching forward to let him know it'll all be okay.

TAGLIST ( open. ) @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @luvyev @pockyyasii @nctislifue @ashtxrie @miniature-tragedy @jayujus @nanabbg @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly

#enhypen imagines #k-labels #YALL BETTER LOVE IT I EXPIRED ALL MY CREATIVITY ON THIS #enhypen headcanons #enhypen reactions #enhypen fluff #enhypen drabbles #enhypen scenarios #enhypen soft hours #enhypen soft thoughts #enhypen heeseung imagines #enhypen jake imagines #enhypen jay imagines #enhypen sunghoon imagines #enhypen sunoo imagines #enhypen jungwon imagines #enhypen niki imagines #enhypen x reader

[surftrips]

SHAPESHIFT | CLARISSE LA RUE

pairing: clarisse la rue x female!reader

summary: clarisse wonders if you know just how much she likes you.

word count: 2.1k

author's note: this is the first part of a two part series i'm writing based on jenna doe's songs: shapeshift + pink slips. this is from clarisse's pov and the second one is from readers' :) lmk if you want to be tagged in part 2 <3

i. i think you have a type, and it's not me

Clarisse has been watching you from the second you arrived at camp. Since you spent every day doing more or less the same thing, she was able to pick up on your routine pretty fast. Two sugars in your coffee every morning. A walk around the lake in the afternoon. Archery practice before the sunset. 

She felt weird going to practices at the same time as you, but she couldn’t help herself. Whenever she got a chance to sneak away from her siblings in the Ares cabin, she always found herself back in your presence. However, the thought to approach you like a normal person had never crossed her mind. Clarisse is the kind of person that needs to be in control, and talking to you one-on-one would mean letting her inhibitions take over, so she always made sure to keep her distance. 

Once or twice, Clarisse had seen you on dates with another camper. At first, she thought you were just having a picnic with the girl from Aphrodite, until the two of you began holding hands. The next day, Clarisse saw you in the other girl’s sweater, which made her so sick she avoided you for an entire week.

The Aphrodite girl (her name, Clarisse later found out, was Stacy) began showing up with you more often. Stacy wore bows in her hair and pearl necklaces, whereas Clarisse’s mascara was always smudged and accessories that didn’t double as weapons felt wrong on her. For the first time, Clarisse wondered why she couldn’t just be like all the other girls. Or at least, a girl you would pay attention to. 

It wasn’t for a lack of trying. Clarisse tried to make her penchant for you as obvious as possible, while actively hiding it from the rest of camp. This proved to be difficult because at the same time, she also didn’t want to get too close to you because, well— what would she even say to you?

Her flirting consisted of winking at you during Capture the Flag or from across the dining hall. She had an ongoing list of nicknames of what to call you when no one else was around, but those moments were few and far between. Once, she even went as far as brushing away a stray piece of hair that had fallen on your face. There seemed to be nothing left for her to do except put bows in her hair or maybe paint her nails, and the thought of doing either of those things made her almost as sick as seeing you and Stacy together. 

Between her and the Aphrodite girl, she knew which girl you would choose. Had chosen. 

ii. mold me how you want me to be

Still, that was not going to stop Clarisse. She had never backed down from a fight before, and this was no different. Even if Stacy didn’t know it, she had become Clarisse’s number one enemy, even more so than that Percy Jackson kid that had recently shown up at camp. It just wasn’t fair that she had been watching you for so long and here comes Aphrodite’s daughter out of nowhere to sweep you off your feet. 

Since Clarisse knew your routine by heart, she devised a plan to get you alone. She decided that she would finally make a move, and then you could pick for yourself who you wanted to be with. Easy enough, right?

At night, Clarisse lay awake in bed thinking about you, Stacy, then you and Stacy together. Though she didn’t want to go there, her brain wondered what the two of you were doing at that very moment. Her thoughts ranged from tame, to slightly more unhinged. Like, were you lying underneath the stars on your picnic blanket? Or was Stacy doing your makeup as she straddled your lap?

Clarisse didn’t pray often, but ever since she met you, she had taken to silently wishing you would acknowledge her. Each time she saw you with your arms wrapped around Stacy, she yearned to know what that would feel like. Not that she thought you would come near her with a ten-foot pole. Stacy is sweet, like bubblegum or strawberries from the fields, and Clarisse is the opposite. If you tasted her, she might make your gums bleed.

Before you, she was never the kind of girl to care about her appearance. Gods, she was the daughter of Ares, they weren’t known for their beauty but their strength and power and when it came to those categories, Clarisse knew that she had Stacy beat. 

And yet, Clarisse would change just about anything about herself if it would make you like her more. In your hands, she would turn into putty, moldable clay to take the shape of your ideal lover. Hell, she would change her name if she thought you didn’t like the sound of it.

iii. kill anyone if you ask me to 

A few weeks later, the Ares cabin and yours happened to be on the same team for Capture the Flag. It was the closest Clarisse had been to you ever since you began dating Stacy. The proximity to you was killing her, but she had to stay focused—on winning the game and your heart.

Putting aside her wandering thoughts, Clarisse barked out instructions to the campers. When she got to your cabin, she assigned you and your half-siblings to be the second line of defense for the flag. Clarisse figured this way, she could keep you out of harm’s way. Also, this was her one chance to talk to you without Stacy hanging off your body and she wasn’t going to let this opportunity pass. 

After the first conch blew, Clarisse went on high-alert mode. Her team had lost the last game to Luke and Annabeth’s team, but she was not going to accept defeat this time. Her eyes darted back and forth between blind spots in the forest and you and the flag. 

As she absent-mindedly waved her new spear around, Clarisse heard soft footsteps behind her. She whipped her head around with her weapon aimed in the air, preparing to fight whoever had approached her. 

“Shit, Y/N, you scared me.” It was just you. Wait– it was you.

“I’m sorry, didn’t mean to,” you responded, your hands in front of you.

Clarisse almost couldn’t believe her eyes. Did someone poison her earlier and she was hallucinating right now? Okay, keep it cool.

“Is something wrong?” Clarisse managed to ask after composing herself, realizing that you had moved away from your post. 

“Uh, no. I- um… heard about what happened to your spear last week, and I just wanted to say I’m sorry,” you smiled nervously. 

“Why?”

“Why…. am I sorry?”

Clarisse wanted to slap her hand across her forehead. Why did she say that? She meant to ask why are you talking to me right now? What did I do to deserve this? But she didn’t know how to word that in a way that wouldn't make you think she was crazy. 

When she didn’t respond, you began backing away. “Look, I’m sorry if this is a sensitive topic. I just felt bad, is all.”

“No!” Clarisse began panicking. “I didn’t mean it like that- just, why are you talking to me now? We’ve never had a real conversation before.” 

“Does it matter?” She expected you to be confused, but the look at your face seemed more amused than anything. 

“No, I guess not,” Clarisse couldn’t help but smile. Gods, why was she so awkward? Anyone else, she would’ve been perfectly fine, but in the last few minutes, her mouth had gone dry and her legs felt as though they would give out at any second.

“Great,” you beamed in return. Clarisse’s eyes catch yours and the two of you stare at each other in content for a minute. Or at least, you are. Clarisse is convinced an Aphrodite kid has changed her pupils to hearts. “I haven’t seen you around lately,” you broke the silence. 

“What do you mean? I’m always around,” Clarisse stammered for an excuse. 

“Well, sure. It’s a small camp.” You seemed to be enjoying seeing Clarisse fumble for words. “But I used to see you all the time. At breakfast and archery.” 

Clarisse ignored the implications of your comment. “Oh, I guess we just started going at different times then. You know you’re always with Stacy now—” 

At the mention of your girlfriend’s name, your face contorted into something strange and unfamiliar to Clarisse. But before she could figure it out, a noise behind you caused the two of you to turn around abruptly. 

“Y/N, watch out!” Clarisse shouted at you, but it was too late. Someone had dragged you backwards, knocking your weapon out of your hand. You struggled to free yourself, but whoever was holding you had revealed a dagger and you didn’t want to risk accidentally cutting yourself. 

“If you know what’s best for yourself, let her go.” Clarisse breathed furiously, pausing between the last three words in her sentence. You couldn’t see who was restraining you, but you could feel their heart rate quicken at the sight of Clarisse’s spear getting dangerously close. 

“And what if I don’t?” they responded. You knew that they were just putting on a front, you could feel their chest heaving up and down on your back. Clarisse seemed to know this too, she’s always been able to sense fear in people— mostly because she is the one that invokes it. 

“I don’t think you want to find out,” she grinned, a wicked smile on her face. The next second, her spear had jabbed into the camper’s side, causing them to let go of their hold on you. You dropped to the ground. 

“Shit!” the camper swore, rubbing their ribcage. “You’re not supposed to actually hurt me!” You could see their face now, one of Hermes' kids you’ve seen hanging around Luke. 

“Now, what’s the fun in that?” Clarisse laughed. “Besides, the spearhead is blunt. You’ll be fine, drama queen.” 

The kid scrambled away, leaving behind the dagger they had previously threatened you with. Clarisse ran over, instinctively putting her hands on your face. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I think so.” You began to stand up, but Clarisse pushed you back down. 

“Clar, come on, I’m fine.” 

“Are you sure? Let me just get a look at you,” she insisted, ignoring the way your nickname for her made something in her stomach flip over. You relented, knowing it was useless to argue with her. You allow her to scan your body for any signs of harm. Clarisse took her time, unsure of when the next time she would be this close to you again. Most of your body was covered by your armor or clothes, so her eyes drifted toward your exposed arms and the area where the kid had touched you. 

Hesitantly, she reached for the side of your stomach. “Are you sore? Did they leave a mark?” 

“No, I don’t think so,” you shook your head, lifting up the hem of your shirt to see. You heard Clarisse’s breath hitch. “What? What’s wrong?” You were fully sat up now. 

“N-nothing!” Color rushed into Clarisse’s cheeks, causing her to turn her head away suddenly. 

You giggled, her reaction not going unnoticed. “Thanks for saving me, tough girl.” 

“Of course.” Clarisse pulled you up on your feet. “Anything for you, pretty girl.” The words slipped out of her mouth before she could register it. The two of you stared at each other again, it seemed as though eye contact was your main form of communication at the moment. And right now, Clarisse’s eyes were sparkling with something familiar, almost like how Stacy looks at you—

“Oh my god, babe! Are you okay?” Speaking of the devil, Clarisse rolled her eyes at the sight of your girlfriend running up. 

“Stacy! How’d you know something was wrong?” You were pulled into a stifling hug, the air thick with floral perfume. 

“Silly girl, I am the daughter of Aphrodite. I have a heightened sense for these things,” Stacy pulled her arms away and gave you a once-over, presumably to check for injuries, before smothering you with kisses. 

Clarisse coughed, once, and then again a little louder. “Oh!” Stacy turned toward her. “Clarisse, I didn’t see you there.” 

“I wouldn’t be standing here if it weren’t for her,” you said, sensing Clarisse’s uneasiness. 

Now, Stacy’s face contorted into something strange. Shamelessly, Clarisse took pride in being the cause of it. 

“Well, thank you,” she responded tersely. “Come on, let’s get one of the Apollo kids to look at you.” Stacy pushed you away before you could protest. You offered Clarisse a weak smile before turning around. 

Clarisse sighed, maybe if she had been a daughter of Aphrodite, she could shapeshift into someone you walked away with— not from.

That night, she prayed to Ares for the first time in months.

#WHERE ARE ALL MY SAPPHICS #WOMEN LOVERS #WARNING: YEARNING #clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #percy jackson series #percy jackson #pjo #dior goodjohn #dior goodjohn x reader #clarisse la rue imagine #pjo x you #clarisse la rue x you

[tropes-and-tales]

Dyin' for a Taste

Day 11:  Face Sitting (Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x F!Reader)

(For the 2023 Kinktober event that I created on my own because I am boring and basic and am trying to keep it simple this year...found here!) 

CW:  Idiots in love; pining; smut (oral, f!receiving); 18+ only.

Word Count:  4096

AN:  This was requested by an anonymous person!

AN2: When I say this is not edited, please know it is NOT EDITED. Full of typos and sloppy typing. Tropes is a fat-fingered old crone.

It starts with a joke.

The 141 is on a covert ops in the mountains.  It’s cold—the sort of cold that burns, that makes the bones ache.  You’re posted up in a perch, your sniper’s rifle at the ready if shit goes south.  The rest of the team is in the square below, waiting for the drop.

“My bollacks are gonna freeze off,” Soap complains over the comms, and you snort at the whining tone in his soft Scottish brogue. 

“Shoulda dressed for the weather,” you reply.  “Ghost probably has a spare balaclava.”

“And cover this handsome face?”

“Won’t be so handsome when your nose turns black from frostbite.”

You hear the tsch noise he makes over the comms, the very Soap, very Scottish noise of dismissal. 

“You’ll have to sit on my face then, hen, and warm me back up,” he says.

You’re rarely stunned into silence—you and the guys are always making off-color jokes—but when you open your mouth to reply, you only gape wordlessly.  The silence over the comms grows, expands, until Gaz—fucking Gaz—chimes in.

“I think she’s into the idea, bruv.”

And you can’t respond to that fast enough either, which leaves another long beat of silence over the comms, which likely seems like enough of an answer.

-----

The mission goes smoothly.  The team splits up as planned to avoid drawing attention.  You don’t see Soap again until a few days later when you regroup at HQ.

You think, perhaps, that he’s forgotten.  Maybe that’d be better.  You and Soap get along well, and sometimes he flirts with you, but he flirts with everyone.  It means nothing. 

And yet…

And yet, it’s Soap.  You might be able to lie to others, but you can’t lie to yourself:  you’ve spent many a lonely night with your thoughts drifting to him.  Turning him over and over in your mind. 

Soap MacTavish.  Handsome, almost unbearably so.  He could be a cocky asshole, be the sort of man who knows he’s hot and be insufferable about it, but he’s gregarious.  Friendly.  He’s a happy-go-lucky sort of man—or as much as someone in the One-Four-One can be.

-----

“Been avoiding me.”

It’s a statement, not a question.  Soap corners you in the mess hall, his blue eyes peering at you without guile.  He looks almost concerned.

“I haven’t,” you reply.  You try to shift past him, but he puts a hand out against the doorway, bars you with his arm.

“You have.”  He peers at you closer, his blue eyes somber.  “What’s wrong?”

“Why would anything be wrong?”

You thought, perhaps, that he’d forgotten…but those somber eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles, then smooth out as he schools his expression.

“Maybe you think my offer was wrong,” he says.

“I never said that.”  You duck under his arm, but he lays his hand on your shoulder and stills you again.

“You’ve never said anything about it.”  You don’t look at him, but you hear his gentle snort of laughter.  “Your silence is deafening.”

You feel your face start to heat up because he’s not wrong.  Too much time has passed now to address that moment in the mountains.  You should have said something then, spat out some rejoinder to signal that it meant nothing to you, that it was just another dumb joke between you and Soap.  But something about that dumb joke conjures up the mental image of you and Soap, and your face burns in embarrassment.

So you duck from his light grip on your shoulder and it makes him laugh again, then call out to your retreating form, “the offer still stands, hen.”

-----

A month passes, then another.  You get leave for a few weeks and go someplace warm, a beach with golden sand and soft breezes where you can relax and forget the horrors of what you see every day.

Then you’re back on base, then another mission.  Over and over, the same routine.

Through it all:  Soap MacTavish, the team’s Golden Retriever.  Always with an easy grin on his handsome face, a laugh, a joke.  He teases Ghost, he does a passable impression of Captain Price.  He gives Gaz a hard time about their rival rugby teams, but it’s always good-natured. 

He jokes with you, but that joke—the one about sitting on his face—becomes just a joke between the two of you.  You don’t know if the other men have forgotten it, but Soap only brings it up when you’re alone now.

At the barracks, in the rec room, he’s sprawled out on the couch and half-dozing, half-watching a rugby match.  When you walk past, he notices, sits up.  Beckons you over, tells you to have a seat…then thoughtfully strokes his face with that damned smirk and comically waggling eyebrows.

“You’re a jackass,” you call out as you leave the room, but by now, it makes you laugh…and it lightly stokes that ever-burning flame low in your belly.

-----

Another time, he sidles up to you at the range as you study your targets with their tight formation of bullet holes.  He points out one shot, high in the corner of the paper, off of the concentric circles of the bullseye.

“Missed one,” he says.

You scoff.  “One out of….many.”

He matches your scoff with one of his own.  “Might be losing your edge.”

“I’m not.”  You know he’s winding you up, but that missed shot galls you. 

“Maybe you’re stressed out.”

You set the target down on the wooden railing.  “Maybe you’re stressing me out, MacTavish.”

It’s the wrong thing to say.  His blue eyes light up in glee, and he only gets out the first part of his retort—You know what’s good for de-stressing—before you drop to one knee and start disassembling your sniper rifle, ducking your head and hiding your burning cheeks from him.

“…nothing wrong with it,” he finishes as you shut the rifle’s case, and you realize you’ve missed part of what he’s said.

“There isn’t,” you agree.  You stand up and lean a bit on the courage that sees you through each mission.  You look him square in the eye and add, “but you’re just flirting.”

He gazes back at you, a soft smile on his face, only a little teasing.  “Not just flirting.”

“Sure.”  You roll your eyes.

He makes his Soap-branded tsch sound, then he loops his arm around your shoulders to pull you in close.  He smells like…well, he smells like soap, clean with a hint of something herbal.  It’s nothing he hasn’t done a hundred times—in safe houses after a mission, walking out of a bar on a night out with the team—that companionable way he pulls you against him.

“It makes me sad when you don’t believe me, hen,” he chuckles, and it’s low, right by your ear, his warm breath fanning over you. 

You’re not sure what spurs your next move.  You’re a natural-born sniper; you take the measure of everything around you—the curve of the earth, the speed and direction of the wind—before you squeeze your trigger.  You’re the same with people, cautious and feeling out every angle of their intentions before you make a move.  But you know Soap, and the question around his joke is the only uncertainty.

Something makes you act without much thought.  Your rifle case in your hand, your other hand tucked in your pocket, and Soap’s arm slung around your shoulders…the moment is crystalized, will be an easy memory to recall in the years to come because this is when everything between the two of you changes.

“You know what?” you ask, and you don’t allow him to hazard a guess.  Instead, you gaze at him levelly, straight into those bright blue eyes of his and add, “alright, let’s do this.”

It’s comical, how the smile drops from his face, how his mouth makes a little “oh” of surprise.  His eyes scan your face, quick, like he’s trying to find the joke, trying to find proof you’re just having a laugh at his expense.

“Bonnie,” he starts to say, and his voice has a rough edge to it.  His voice is missing its usual teasing edge, and he pauses to study you.  You don’t know if he realizes it, but the tip of his tongue darts out, licks against his lower lip, like he’s really thinking of it now that it could be a reality.

“Bonnie, are you just…are ye fer real?”  His voice is lower and his accent gets thicker, and it sets a frisson of heat shimmering through your lower belly.

You refuse to blink.  Refuse to look away.  “I’m for real if you are.”

“I was never joking about that.”

“Then I’m not joking either.”  You swing your rifle case towards the barracks, playing at bravery but willing the fluttery feeling in your stomach to calm.  “So let’s go.”

Soap—gregarious, convivial Soap—says nothing else on the walk back.  He keeps his arm around your shoulders, though, and his hand settles against your bicep, rubs you briskly before gently holding you there, like he’s proving to himself that you’re real, that the moment is really happening.

-----

Your nerve wobbles a little when you get back to quarters.  Soap’s nerves must have a similar wobble, because he turns to you and his usual boyish grin is gone, replaced by a grave expression.

“You dinnae have to do this,” he says, “if you don’t want to.”

Part of you wants to back out, chuck him in the arm and say it was just a joke.  You could still back out.  Soap is flirty and gregarious, but hooking up would irrevocably change your easy relationship with him.  It could change the tenor of the team.  And yet…

…don’t you both face death every day?  Don’t you see the absolute worst of humanity?  Don’t your bodies bear the scars of your hard, unrelenting lives—countless scars, visible and invisible both?  Don’t you all operate in your own bubbles of loneliness, sleeping alone night after night but crowded out by the ghosts you all haul around?

Is it too much to ask for even a moment of connection, of not feeling alone?

You gaze back at him.  Sweet Johnny MacTavish.  Handsome but not vain, smart but not aloof, funny without being cruel about his teasing.  Is there anyone you’d rather be with?

“I want to do this,” you tell him, and there’s no hesitation in your tone.  “If you do.  If you really were just joking around, then no harm, Johnny.”

His somber gaze softens at your use of his real name.  “Wasn’t joking at all.”  Then he opens the door to his quarters and turns to you, invites you in with a sweep of his hand, and when you walk past him, he lays his palm on your lower back to guide you.

-----

In truth, you’ve never actually sat on anyone’s face.  It’s one of those funny sex acts that you joke around about but have never gotten around to, like sixty-nine (always seemed more complicated than necessary) or food-play (always seemed too messy). 

Soap, it turns out, has never actually had his face sat on.

And it’s adorable, how he sheepishly runs his hand through the longer stripe of his short-shorn hair and admits as much.

“Figured it cannae be that complicated though,” he says.  He huffs out a breath, and you realize how nervous he must be, and it gives you courage to take charge.

“Kiss me first.  Then we can figure it out from there.”

The tame command makes his face light up and he murmurs, “yes, ma’am” in his brogue, and then he does as you say.

If Soap MacTavish is generally the team’s Golden Retriever, bouncing around with a wagging tail, he kisses with far more finesse.  He cups your face gently, reverently and leans forward, brushes the lightest of kisses against your lips like he’s testing the waters.  Like he’s waiting for you to pull away, and when you don’t, he kisses you again.

It’s awkward at first, but only because you’re both so tentative.  It’s uncharted territory.  He must be aware that you’re crossing a line in doing this, you think, and he must not care either.  But the awkwardness melts away quickly because Soap is a damned good kisser, skilled in how he moves his mouth against yours, his tongue against yours.  One of his hands stays on your face, cupping you gently and steering you, but the other hand touches your waist, your hip, slides around to squeeze your ass gently before returning to the dip of your waist.

He tastes like something warm and spicy, like cinnamon or nutmeg.  Everything about him is warm, really:  the way he cups your face but runs his thumb over your cheekbone, the way his other hand holds you steady as he kisses you.  And the way he looks at you when he breaks the kiss, the almost-shy way he tugs at the hem of your shirt and asks if he can take it off.

He’s warm too—his body, his skin as you bare it with each article of clothing shed.  You strip each other in tandem, and the sight of him leaves you breathless.  He’s like something carved by a Renaissance sculptor, but when you smooth your palms over the dips and swells of his muscles, you find that he’s warm to the touch, wonderfully so, and a wave of lust almost takes you out at the knees by how much you want to feel his body against yours, under you or on top of you, every inch of you pressed against him.

Soap must feel the same way about you—he touches you just as gently as before, almost reverent, but his goddamned eyes practically shine when he looks at you, then groans out, “fuck, but you’re stunning, hen.”

He maneuvers you both towards the bed, and then he stretches out across it, and this is precisely why your sexual repertoire has always been lacking:  when a brutally handsome man is stretched out in front of you like a damned buffet, your mind singularly focuses on one thing, and you rarely remember that there’s other, more adventuresome things you could do.

You’re already turned on.  Ever since the two of you walked back from the range, you’ve been on a low simmer of lust, and the desire has ratcheted up with each kiss, with each little grumbling groan of Soap’s, with each sweep of his big warm hands along your body.

So you’re already turned on, so why sit on his face when his beautiful cock—perfectly sized for you, the ruddy tip already leaking precum—is also an option?

And Soap is no dummy.  He must guess at your internal battle because he says your name softly, pulls your gaze back to his face where he smiles that brilliant Soap-smile at you.

“Alright then?” he asks.  He pats his upper chest.  “You can sit right here, to start.”

It hits you all at once how intimate this is.  Fucking, hooking up—that’s one thing.  But sitting on your teammate’s face feels like you’re taking a further step into the unknown.  Oral sex, to you, is already more intimate than regular ol’ intercourse, but sitting on his face feels…even more intimate.  There’s a lot of trust on both ends:  he has to trust you not to hurt him, not to put too much weight or force on his face or neck.  And you have to trust him too, since you’re basically smothering him you with your pussy, and many men are precious little babies about eating pussy.

“I could just…”  You trail off and gesture vaguely at where his erection strains and bobs against his belly, and Soap snorts before he replies, “we could do both, hen.”

When you don’t say anything, when you don’t move, he adds, “c’mon, sweet girl.  I’m dyin’ for a taste of ye.”

The accent is unfair, you decide.  The accent is not fighting fair.  Soap’s Scottish brogue is charming in the best of times, but his bedroom version is thicker, at a slightly lower register, and it’s entirely unfair.  It easily dismantles the rest of your meager defenses, so you nod and then kneel on the bed.  But when you start to awkwardly clamor on top of him, he stills you for a beat and taps his mouth, says, “give me a kiss first.”

And the kiss is unfair too because it reminds you that it’s just Soap, one of your dearest teammates, a man who often holds your life in his hands and whose life you hold in your own.  His now-familiar taste of spicy warmth on your tongue, and his lips curving in a smile against yours when he whispers, “climb on up, hen  Don’t keep me waitin’ anymore.”

There’s no sexy way to climb on top of him.  Do you just kneel by his chest and throw a leg over him?  Do you straddle him lower and scoot up?  You split the difference, try to straddle him on his lower chest and scoot up, but then his one arm gets pinned.  Any other man?  It might be a deal-breaker being so clumsy, but Soap laughs underneath you—a genuine belly-laugh full of warmth that makes you giggle too.  He wrangles his arm free, then lays both hands on your hips and guides you the rest of the way.

This is unbearable intimate too, being so exposed to his bright blue-eyed gaze. You probably have tons of issues around previous men who didn’t eat pussy, who were grossed out by it, but Soap’s eyes practically glitter black with how blown his pupils are.  His face rarely hides its emotions very well (he’s a shitty poker player), and there’s no disgust in his expression at all.  There’s only desire, naked and apparent.

“Tell me,” he says, and his voice is a low growl that sends that frisson of heat straight to your core.  “Tell me what is working for you, yeah?  Don’t go quiet on me.”

You nod, and you wish you could think of something cool or funny to say, but Soap lifts his head a little and presses a plush, open-mouthed kiss to the inside of one thigh, then the other, where both are splayed in front of him, and before you can even beat yourself up for failing to think of something cool or funny, his mouth is on you in earnest.

Soap, a damned good kisser.  It translates to this, his skilled tongue and lips licking at you, suckling at you, swirling against you before he breaks up the pattern with an outright kiss, then resumes his routine.  He traces the tip of his tongue around the firm bud of your clit, the perfect amount of pressure before he snakes it lower, lapping at the arousal leaking from your entrance.  He’s unabashed about it, groans against your feverish skin, and you love him in this moment—love that he wasn’t joking after all, love that he had led you here, where you sit perched on him while he feasts on your cunt and seems to genuinely enjoy it as he does. 

Any other position, you’d lean down and kiss him, or pull him to you and kiss him.  Now, as he groans against you again, you reach down and run your fingers through the longer stripe in his hair.  He must like that, because he groans a third time, and his grip on your hips spasms tighter.

You remember what he asked of you, so when he purses his lips and suckles against your clit, you gasp out a startled “oh!” but then add, “fuck, Johnny.  Just like t-that.”

“Good?”  It comes out muffled against you, and he pauses his mouth long enough to gaze up at you with a smile.

“So good.”  You shift your hand, cup his stubbled chin slick with your arousal—a gentle movement that makes his smile soften too. 

“Like when you call me Johnny, hen.”  Now he sounds a little shy, like he’s edging close to something beyond a random hookup with face-sitting.

“Keep using your mouth like that and I’ll call you Johnny all the time,” you tease.

“Deal.”  And then he’s on you again, laving your sensitive folds with his tongue, his bit of stubble raising a warm burn against your inner thighs.  His hands on your hips pull you closer, and he encourages the slow, careful rhythm when you start to actually ride his face—a languid back-and-forth, mindful of his need for oxygen, while he eats your pussy with the fervor of a starving man.

Your orgasm approaches faster than you thought; you thought you might have to fake it, since you rarely come from oral alone.  But there’s something about this position.  You feel powerful in a benign way, in charge, but mindful of the man underneath you.  You run your fingers through his hair and Soap preens at the touch, just as he preens when you pant out praise for him, tell him how good you feel. How good he is making you feel.

He must sense it because his grip tightens on your hips, but his tongue moves faster and focuses solely on your clit—teasing with the tip of his tongue, then laving it with the flat of his tongue, then wrapping his lips around it and sucking.

“F-fuck,” you choke out.  “Johnny…fuck…I’m gonna…” but you don’t finish the sentence, you keen out a garble of nonsense as you come.

The heat in your belly pools over, spills over in a brilliant wash that courses through your veins, into your trembling legs and up through your body, makes your vision shimmer and crackle with sparks.  Your heartbeat, your panting breath are loud in your own ears, and you hear Soap groan but he sounds faraway.  He teases your orgasm, prolongs it by licking against you until you grip his hair tighter and hold his head still while you clumsily dismount, then flop gracelessly onto the bed beside him.

You feel boneless.  You feel heavy, sleepy, like you could sink into the mattress and sleep for days.  You close your eyes and feel the bed shift, and Soap disappears for a moment.  You hear running water—he must be cleaning his face, you think—but then the mattress dips again and he’s curling his warm body around yours, wrapping his arms around you as he pulls you to him, then settles the blanket over both of you.

“Good, yeah?”

You laugh.  “Yeah, that was good.  Especially for someone who’s never done it before.”  A beat.  “Give me a moment to catch my breath and then I can help you out.”

Soap chuckles above you, and you feel him press his lips to your forehead before settling again.  “No need.”

“But I—”

“Already came.”

The gears in your head turn slow when you’re sated from sex.  Coming makes you stupid.  “Huh?  When?”

Another chuckle, another kiss to your head.  “When I was eating you, hen.”

You turn your head and try to peer up at him.  He looks comfortable and sleepy too, content and sated.  “Seriously?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Wait, seriously?”

“Told ye I was dyin’ for a taste.”  He shifts a little, pulls you closer to him.  He tugs the blanket more securely around your shoulders.  “If ye want a second round, I’ll need a few minutes.”

You appraise the situation:  the warm scent of Soap, the feel of his naked body pressed to yours, the warm little cocoon he’s created here in his bed.  Of course you want a second round, but you’re sleepy too, and the thought of sleeping with Soap doesn’t seem nearly as terrifying as it might have seemed before he had his mouth on your pussy.

“Or we could sleep,” you offer.

“Sleep,” he agrees.  “Round two tomorrow.”

The doubts from earlier start to surface in your mind, but they seem tiny and inconsequential when you’re wrapped up in Soap’s arms.  You feel sleep tugging at you—he’s already asleep, you think, breathing deep and even against you—so you chance to brush your lips against the bit of him you can reach and whisper good night to him.

But he’s not quite completely asleep yet because he kisses you back, another press of his lips against your head, and he whispers back, “g’night, hen.”

#john soap mactavish #soap mactavish #johnny mactavish #johnny soap mctavish x reader #soap imagine #johnny mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish imagine #soap x reader #call of duty modern warfare #kinktober 2023 #tropes and tales

[yougavemeyourheartyouknow]

Alludes to Miguel bring depressed, usage of alcohol.

Thinking about heartbroken baby daddy!Miguel O’Hara who spent the next week rotting in bed whenever he could, curtains drawn shut and sad music playing from his phone as he scrolled through all your old photos together. Feeling exactly how he did when you two had split 9 years ago.

Heartbroken baby daddy!Miguel who started to reply the last 12 years over and over in his head, from the moment he sat next to you during his first stats lecture to the moment he found himself in front of your front door in an attempt to ask for a second chance only to find out it’s too late form the smirk on your new boyfriend’s face. To the point of him getting distracted during everyday activities, like over serving his coffee and sitting at a greenlight until someone honked at him.

Heartbroken baby daddy!Miguel who starts to have trouble keeping up with his physical appearance. The same man who could get the asscrack of dawn to go on a run or to the gym, always clean shaved, hair always slicked back, never in his pjs unless need be, started to walk around with a 5 o'clock shadow, starts to drop off or pick his daughter up in his sweatpants and tank top he sleeps in, eyes more sunken in they they usually are.

Heartbroken baby daddy!Miguel who has a silent breakdown everytime you post something while out on a date with your new boyfriend.having to grip his phone so hard to the point his knuckles turn white to stop himself from bursting into tears while Gabriella is eating dinner in the next room.

Heartbroken baby daddy!Miguel who had a few too many drinks while Gabri was at a sleepover, calling up first his younger brother then his best friend. Rambling about how he should have seen the signs sooner, how he should have never let you go in the first place, because now you were in the arms of another man, and considering that it’s been over 3 months it looks like he’s there to stay.

Heartbroken baby daddy!Miguel who thought he was hallucinating from drinking too much when you showed up at his place at 11:30 at night

—

“I-I just, if… if I knew that I still loved-“ he interrupted himself to hiccup before continuing to speak to Peter over his phone, placing down another empty beer bottle on his living room coffee table. “I still loved her, I wouldn’t have let-let her get a new boyfriend in the first place ya know?” He slurred, hearing Peter’s response but none of the words registering. His mind calmed from the temporary haze the alcohol provided.

Knock knock.

Miguel rolled his eyes with a groan as he slowly got up from his seat on the couch. “I thought I told you I didn’t need you to come over Peter.” Miguel said as he grabbed the empty bottles and quickly placed them in the kitchen, his friend on the phone expressing his confusion as Miguel made his way to the front door with his phone between his shoulder and ear.

“Huh? I’m not at your door-“ The rest of the sentence turned into background static, not noticing Peter’s calls for him and asking if he was listening. Miguel was too busy being in shock. He blinked once, twice.

You were still there.

Bloodshot eyes, runny nose, rosey and tear stained cheeks, your shoulders shaking a bit as you hugged yourself. He didn’t even get a chance to ask what was wrong before you spoke.

“Can I come in?” You croaked, throat tense as you attempted to keep your voice from wavering.

He opened the door wider.

—

Part 4<

Part 5.5<

Not proofread.

Word count: 600

Taglist: @ginnysculture @mishaglass @wusyanamee @mangoslushcrush @queerponcho @bunnibitez @miguelzslvtz @migueloharastruelove @dahehow @sinners-98-world @othersideoftheparadise @toyfortoji @yeshajane @yvesbi @strawberryjuice9 @hanjisgf @deljojeisbackagain @safixiovi @emmalandry @maxinemus3 @lauraolar14 @aaaaslaaaan @kenz-ee @esmedelacroix @whattheshock @lauraolar14 @migueloharasoulmate @famouscattale @loser-alert @maomaimao @syler-griffin @comeonatmebruh @xwonderlandresidentx @m4dyy @mcmiracles @the-pan-liquid @lilbrababe99 @jxstanemo @badbitchhour @freehentai @sillysillygoofygoose @nj452896 @jadeloverxd @faretheeoscar @miguelsfavwife @ce3stvu @scorpihoooe @blossomofbismuths

#miguel o hara fanfic #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara au #spiderman 2099 x reader #astv miguel #astv spiderman 2099 #miguel spiderverse #miguel ohara spiderman #miguel fanfic #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel x reader #atsv miguel #miguel o’hara drabble #míguel O’Hara blurb #miguel o hara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel ohara blurb #Miguel ohara blurbs #miguel o’hara blurbs #spiderman 2099 fanfic #spiderman 2099 #bd!miguel #baby daddy!miguel

[erwinsvow]

an idea… rafe and shy reader having sex for the first time

everything's overwhelming with rafe, but this is particularly so. you thought you were completely ready for it, from the way you had handled everything else so well. in fact, rafe was the one taking things at the slowest pace possible, trying to make sure he didn’t pressure you into something you weren’t ready for.

you didn’t like it—thought he was trying to be something he’s not. he’s gentle with you but never like this, never to this extent. it must be a big deal then, sleeping with rafe, giving him your virginity, you finally decide, if he’s acting so differently about it.

in fact, you think you’ve been ready to give it up since you first started dating him. rafe brings it out of you, coaxes a different side of you out with gentle words and soft touches. you’re going mad over it. you can’t count the amount of times you’ve crawled into his lap at any given opportunity, anywhere the two of you are alone—his truck, the couch in your living room and at tannyhill, the hidden booth at the country club. you’re begging for it, not sure how much more obvious you can get.

you finally decide tonight’s the night—following a nice dinner with the two of you. you had spent extra long getting dressed up, a pretty white lingerie set on underneath your blue dress, all done up for rafe. finally back at tannyhill, entire body vibrating and tingling with excitement, you don’t wait another moment, crawling into rafe’s lap and kissing him hard. you take off your dress and rafe stops just for a second to take in how forward you’re being.

“hey,” he finally breathes against your lips, pulling away. “c’mon, you’re not ready for this.” 

“yes i am!” you whine, impatient and horny, feeling rafe get hard underneath you. you want him to be able to do all the things you know he wants to do, want them done to you. “i am, i am-” and you lean back to kiss him, ending up pinned underneath him before long.

he knows you’re not, but he plays along. you’re so wet already he doesn’t have to do much, but he makes you cum all over his fingers anyways, hoping it’ll satiate you.

“please, rafe,” you moan against his mouth, pushing in for another needy kiss. “wan’ it inside. please.” and he does know you, knows everything about you, but even he can’t resist when you say things like that.

you watch with big eyes while he lines himself up with your wet hole, hovering over you. you think you’re so ready, that three of rafe’s fingers inside you should be comparable to what you’re about to feel, that you’re more than prepared. your eyes squeeze shut when rafe pushes inside, all the air leaving your lungs. you try to moan out but it’s more of a gasp than anything else, one that rafe swallows into a kiss. 

your eyes get watery—it’s just habit. it hurts, too, because rafe is so much bigger than you expected. you bite your cheek, looking up at rafe through teary eyes and clasping a hand over your mouth—you don’t want to admit that he was right. 

“c’mon kid, give it up. y’not ready for this, i know you,” rafe says, leaning in close to your ear to whisper it quietly. he’s not even half-way inside you.

“i-i can take it,” you hiccup. you hate disappointing rafe.

and it’s not that he doesn’t want to—he does, desperately so, wants to fuck you within an inch of your sanity every time you walk into a room and look at him with your shy eyes and sweet smile. he wants to break you, wants you cumming on his dick until there’s nothing left in your head, no shyness left in your heart. but he wants it when you’re ready for it, not like this.

it only takes another minute, you finally admit you’re not ready, and rafe pulls out of you. you feel like crying, terribly sad and dejected, wishing you could just be normal for rafe for once, be what he wants. 

“stop,” he says, wiping away a stray tear. his arm rests over your stomach, trying to get you to lighten up. “when you’re ready for it, i’ll fuck you until you can’t think. s’just not today, kid.”

you finally agree when he says that, getting over it because you know without a doubt in your mind—rafe knows you better than you know yourself.

#omg what a lovely lovely prompt thank you babe <3 #this may not be what you were expecting #to me the very first time they have sex its too much for shy reader so it doesn't actually happen happen... but it is still the first time #i rlly wanted to write something like what you guys would expect but i really felt like this is more real of their relationship lol #anyways <3 i hope you like it! #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #shy reader

[c-nstantine]

okay but newlywed jason and reader fucking raw for the first time on their wedding night 🥰 (please and thank you🫶🏼)

-🌷

Warnings: 18+, also this isn't like good smut but it is super smutty

word count: 0.9k

Jason was impatient. Being impatient at his wedding was probably the worst thing imaginable. All he wanted was to be close to his wife in her gorgeous white dress that only accentuated her every curve. So, he waited and waited until it was time for him and her to finally leave. They were supposed to spend one night in Gotham before taking off on their honeymoon. Jason barely allowed her to reach the threshold of the hotel door before pouncing on her. 

His mouth was on hers as his hands searched for the best way to get her out of the dress. He should've been planning this. He thought the dress was money well spent but it would look so much better on the floor.

"Jason, the dress," She gasped as she heard buttons ripp from behind her. Jason snorted and began to kiss down her neck as he continued to rip the fabric. That's what they get for putting a million tiny buttons, he thought.

"Sweetheart, you were only gonna wear it once anyway," He reminded her. She shook her head at her new husband's antics and was glad she went with a simple hairstyle. 

"I have been waiting to tear this off of you all day," He groaned as he tore through the last of the fabric and helped her step out of the last of the dress. He could feel his dick strain against his pants as he took in the sight of her body in white lace lingerie. He couldn't undress himself quickly enough.

"Did you wear this just for me?" He asked once he was stripped down to his boxers. She took his hand and led him to the bed of the hotel with a shy nod. She went to kneel but Jason stopped her.

"I vowed as your husband to always take care of you first," He spoke genuinely and gestured for her to get on the bed. Once she was on her back he crawled in between her legs and licked a broad stripe to her white lace panties. He pulled them down and was tempted to sniff them before diving into the feast in front of him. No, he'd save the sniffing for later.

Hooking his arms around her thighs, he dove into her pussy. He was sure to spell his name with his tongue because every part of her was his. He pumped two fingers in and out of her as his tongue danced along her clit. Her hips pressed further into his face as he continued his work. He would look up through his thick lashes to see the most beautiful sight in the world. Her moans were a little too close to an orgasm for his comfort so he stopped his pumping and removed his fingers from her. He made a show of sucking her pussy juice off each of his fingers.

"Jay, I need you," She whined as he slid off the bed to check his bag for condoms.

"Just a sec," He was moving as quickly as he could. He wanted this as much as she did. Their first night together as husband and wife. It had to be perfect.

"We don't need those," She called out. Jason froze in his actions. Before the wedding, the two of them had been so careful to avoid any slip-ups. Who was he to deny a request of his wife?

"Oh, you want me to fill your pussy with cum? Make you mine in every way possible?" He walked over to the bed and hovered over her. He nipped at the top of her still-confined breasts before undoing the hook in the front. He sucked one breast while kneading the other with his calloused hand.

"Please," She begged for him to fuck her how he had been dreaming about. He rubbed her clit with his cock before sinking into her pussy. Their hips met and she let out a small hiss from his size. No matter how many times she had taken his dick before there was always an adjustment to his heavy cock.

"It's okay, you can take it, " Jason kissed the top of her hairline before slowly sliding in and out of her pussy. Jason had flushed red from the amount of self-control it took for him not to explode in the moment. It was the first time they had ever fucked raw and he could feel the warmth of her pussy in ways he had only dreamed about.

He noticed that her face was less tense and her expression had turned to bliss. He placed his hands on her hips and began to stroke faster. Her hands dug into his shoulders and crescent nail marks were embedded in his flesh. His arms were strong from years of training and working out but now they were great for holding her in place so she couldn't squirm from his cock.

"That's it, baby," He grunted as her legs opened wider to give him better access. Her mouth fell open once he hit the perfect spot. Jason smirked and continued to drill into her. Her breaths became sharper as Jason whispered words of encouragement to her. He reminded her over and over how perfect she was and her pussy was made just for him.

"Cum on my cock, baby," He was doing his best to keep his orgasm at bay so that she could reach hers. With a few more strokes, she fell apart on his cock. Her breaths were uneven as she reached her orgasm. Jason let out a deep breath as he came into her. He continued his thrusts ever so slightly just to watch the cum cream around his cock. Yeah, this was his favorite part of marriage.

taglist: @flyestvenustrap@megamindsecretlair@blxckdesire @prettyvintageafternoon@lilbanas@certifiedloverwoman@melissa-ashe @hoyoooo

#x black!reader #black!reader #x black reader #black reader #jason todd smut #jason todd x reader #jason todd x black!reader #jason todd x black reader #jason smut #jason x black!reader #jason x black reader

[putellasawfc]

pre-parental panic !

alexia putellas x pregnant!reader

summary: attending another game in support of your fiancée, everything should’ve gone smoothly. but chaos ensues when an ignorant security guard gets a little too handsy. (warnings: injury whilst pregnant, but nothing serious in the end & there’s a happy ending). words: 5.8k

-

it was another beautiful day in barcelona and you found yourself in at attendance at yet another barcelona and real madrid clash, something you had come to love over the last few years of your life.

when you first met alexia, you had very minimal knowledge of the sport she had such an intense passion for which you worried would be something of a turn off for the blonde barcelona captain, but to your delight the woman surprisingly found it endearing and was adorably excited to teach you about the amazing world of football. and she was a good teacher, it only took you just over a month of knowing alexia to know all of the football terms by heart.

you didn’t miss the way her face would light up when you would get immersed into a match, whether it be her own or just a random one she’d put on the television for the night. she’d watch you with soft eyes as you gestured towards the device in frustration, complaining that the goal that went in shouldn’t count because the player was definitely offside, soon turning to alexia herself in an attempt to get her to back you up. she hadn’t even seen the goal, too busy watching you, but she nodded in agreement anyways. if you said it was offside, then it was.

it was at a barcelona game that your relationship was publicised.

it was after the championships league final, barcelona had worked their hearts out after coming back from being two goals down at halftime. you watched in the stands, beside alexia’s mother and sister on the edge of your seat. you knew how much this meant to your girlfriend and you worried that the chance to become champion league winners had just slipped from the barcelona team’s fingers, something you knew would take a huge toll on the ever so self critical alexia, and you hated that you couldn’t grab even a second with her just to give her a hug and share some words of encouragement, even if she wasn’t actually on the pitch yet.

all you could do was wait in your seat and hope that chances were made and the team came back out for the second half amped up and eager to fight until the last minute.

and that they did.

with patri managing to score a brace, and rolfö scoring another goal twenty minutes later you were on cloud nine by the time the final whistle blew, and you knew your girlfriend was absolutely ecstatic with the way the team dominated in the second half. you stayed in the stands with alexia’s family, sharing hugs and celebrating with the duo whilst you waited, rather impatiently, for alexia to finish celebrating with her team and come join you all.

you watched from afar as she lifted the trophy, taking as many pictures and videos as you could of the memorable moment so that you could look back on the special day in months and years to come, remembering how overjoyed you were to be able to see alexia achieve something she had spent countless of nights stressing over, understandably so.

when the celebrations began to quell, and players wandered off the pitch to join family and friends in the stands, alexia all but skipped to be with you, where she had been aching to be since that final whistle.

she pulled you into a hug, and you squeezed the muscular woman as hard as you could, hoping you would be able to convey every ounce of love you had for the phenomenal woman in the warm embrace. “so proud of you espléndida.”

you felt a puff of breath against your ear as she laughed at your comment, knowing you had been working on your pet names in spanish lately, wanting to woo the woman in more than just english.

“thank you mi novia, i am so glad you’re here.” she whispered, pulling away from the hug but still keeping her hands on your waist.

your heart melted at the sight of tears shining in the woman’s eyes, her emotions clearly beginning to get the better of her after a tough match against a team that looked like they were taking home the win in the first half. your hand quickly moved, almost like second nature to you, to wipe away a stray tear that trickled down her slightly muddied cheek, caressing the area with your knuckles once you had.

“i’ll alway be here baby.”

you wanted nothing more than to smother your girlfriend in a considerable amount of affection, but you were conscious of the cameras and the number of fans still in attendance, in hopes of getting a photo with the champions. you didn’t want to be the cause of outing your relationship with alexia, someone who was very private with her personal life and had made sure to keep you quiet in the public eye since you made things official.

you knew the fans weren’t blind, they’d noticed you, someone they had never seen before, suddenly attending almost every barcelona match alongside alexia’s family, always sharing a hug and some hushed whispers with their captain at the end of every match. they’d decided you were alexia’s new girlfriend a number of months ago, but with no real confirmation from alexia yet, she was happy to keep them in the dark with who you really were to her.

and so you settled with just giving the midfielder a beaming smile, ready to step back and give her some space to interact with eli and alba who were happily engaged in their own conversation as they waited for alexia to finish with you, like they always did.

but then you felt a tug on your hand, and you looked back at alexia with your brows furrowed in confusion at what she could possibly want. she only maintained eye contact with you for a second, maybe two, before her eyes drifted downwards and found themselves transfixed on your lips. later on she would blame the lip balm you had applied at half time, telling you your lips just looked so soft and inviting she couldn’t help herself. it was your fault really.

but for now she pushed any hesitation to the back of her mind, and leaned in rather swiftly, quickly connecting your lips in a sweet yet passionate kiss, one you sank into immediately with your hold on the footballers shoulders increasing.

it was cut shorter than you would’ve liked, but you knew alexia was risking a lot already by initiating the kiss in the first place, and so you didn’t complain, only smiled at the blonde who now held a flushed complexion to her face as she smiled back at you.

“oo la la, did i just witness mi hermana partake in some pda?”

the teasing voice of alba broke through the bubble you and alexia had found yourself lost in since she had approached you minutes ago, the playful banter between the sisters making you laugh as alexia pushed her younger sibling which didn’t deter her from making fun of alexia even further.

you were pleasantly surprised when you opened up your instagram later that night, just having one last look at your phone before you switched it off and got ready to sleep. you quickly clicked on alexia’s story when you noticed she had posted on it, and smiled at all the pictures she had posted of the day. her with the trophy, the team with the trophy, a video of her and mapi screaming in glee at the camera with confetti stuck in their hair.

it was the last photo of the bunch that sent your heart beating that little bit faster. it was a picture of the kiss, with a black and white filter layered over the top. you couldn’t stop the cheesy grin overtaking your features even if you really wanted to at the sight, your thumb quickly moving to click on the heart at the bottom right corner.

guess you we’re officially, official.

-

and now, two years later, here you sat beside alba once again (eli was too busy to attend, but had called alexia earlier with her usual well wishes), with an ice cold bottle of water in hand that alexia had practically forced you to take whilst she demanded you be seated in one of the more shaded areas of the arena, the protective mother to be mindful of the blazing weather.

the game went as expected, with barcelona already one nil up before the time had even reached double digits, the goal being made by aitana which had you cheering for the baller from your seat.

it seemed as though the early goal had set the tone for the rest of the match, as barcelona continued to score goal after goal throughout both half’s, whilst madrid struggled to score any. the final whistle blew earlier than you had been expected, being so engrossed in the game you hadn’t realised the clock had stopped at ninety-six minutes, the team managing to score five against madrid where madrid failed to score any in retaliation.

you knew alexia would be in good spirits after the win, especially with the no goals conceded and the fact that she had managed to earn her own goal and assist in the match, something that usually would’ve had you jumping for joy but with your newly acquired baby bump, you were forced to stay put and be content with just cheering and clapping instead - which you did with all your might.

everything about your day has been going incredibly, until it was time to meet up with alexia.

since you had arrived at the later stages of your pregnancy, alexia had decided that it would be best for both of you if you came to her rather than her coming to you like she usually did. then you would be able to go with her through the tunnels and into the locker rooms, remaining with her whilst she got showered and changed. the idea had already been cleared by jonatan who had no issues with the new routine, as long as it wasn’t disrupting play (which it wasn’t) then he didn’t care.

she argued that it was so that she was there incase something happened to you in the fifteen minutes that it took her to get ready to go home - usually it would take double that time but she rushed through her regime in order to get you home sooner, and you found her reasoning excessive but you didn’t say anything, finding it endearing how much more protective she had become over you since your bump became visible.

you made your way carefully down the concrete steps after you had bid farewell to alba, a goodbye that was only temporary as the brunette would be meeting alexia and yourself at your shared apartment so that you could partake in some well needed catching up with the younger putellas sister who had been way too busy over the past few weeks.

your hand clung to the metal railing that was helping you stabilise yourself on the way down, your other hand finding itself underneath your bump whilst you stretched your neck in order to see your feet and ensure that you weren’t about to slip or miss a step, not wanting to cause any last minute chaos.

though you wondered if that attempt was in vain, as you assessed the situation that greeted you at the bottom of the stairs.

a frown found itself on your face at the rowdy fans that were trying to get as close to the barrier as they possibly could, desperate to get a picture with one of the barcelona girls, some additionally holding different items they wanted to be signed. a few fans were even trying to push their way onto the pitch, something that was irritating the security guard to no end which was apparent by the angry lines etched on the man’s forehead.

you tried your best to ignore the fuss, continuing your journey to find alexia with as little interaction with the fans as you could manage. you didn’t want to seem rude, but you knew if you accepted to take a picture with one person, then you’d have a huge crowd around you in seconds, eager to get something from the captain’s girlfriend which would just overwhelm you and you weren’t just worrying for your own safety anymore. you did give a wave though, when they cheered at your presence which thankfully they seemed content with.

you budged past a few barcelona tshirt clad fans, and managed to take two steps onto the pitch when an arm was raised infront of you, preventing you from advancing any further.

“no fans allowed on the pitch.” a gruff and unimpressed sounding voice reached your ears.

“i’m going to see alexia, i’m her fiancée.” you gave the middle aged man a smile whilst you flashed your rather impressive engagement ring, expecting the man to perk up at the realisation of who you were and let you pass.

but that didn’t happen.

instead, he just gave you a look of pure disbelief, his eyes flickering to your bump with an amused smirk. “oh, and i’m guessing that baby in there belongs to her too?”

your brows furrowed at the man’s tone, not sure if he was too behind the times to believe that it was possible for two women in a relationship to have a baby in a way that didn’t involve adoption, or if he was just trying to call your bluff. either way, you couldn’t help but feel a little annoyed at his condescending tone.

“yes actually.” the man only scoffed in response, still not letting you through.

“i’m not lying to you, seriously. look, i can even prove it to you.”

you moved to grab your phone from your jacket pocket, with your lockscreen being a picture of alexia and yourself on one of your many date nights, you figured that would be more than enough to prove that you were in fact in a relationship with the footballer. and if that still didn’t help convince him, you could just call alexia herself and have her come and collect you.

you clicked on the side button of your phone, the screen lighting up at the action and there was the picture of the both of you. alexia stood behind you with her arms wrapped around your shoulders, pulling your back to her chest whilst you both smiled at the camera. you turned your phone around to show it to the security guard, who to your dismay didn’t even spare one glance at the device and instead moved to grab ahold of your arm in a less than gentle manner.

“look, i don’t have time for crazy, obsessed fans okay? i have a job to do and you’re pushing it, so this is the last time i’ll ask nicely. please return to your seat and wait for the players to approach. if you don’t i’ll have no choice but to have you removed from the stadium all together.” despite using his manners, his words were spat out harshly and his grip on your arm tightened throughout his demands, leaving you gritting your teeth together in pain.

“let go of me! i’m telling the truth, i’ll call alexia and get her over here right now and she’ll tell your herself that i am her fiancée!” you told him, fed up with his distrust in you.

it was then, that a fan who had taken the security man’s distraction with you as a prime opportunity to sneak past and run onto the pitch, accidentally stumbled on their way past, effectively sending their body barging into the security man, and with the speed they were running at, it wasn’t just a light impact. it sent the man, who still had his hand wrapped around your arm, pushing against you and before you knew it, you had landed bump first into the metal barrier that was to the side of you all.

the cramp like pain that spread throughout your lower stomach was immediate, and intense from the get go. you doubled over in pain, crying out in agony at the ache that was worse than anything you had ever felt in your entire life. the security guard who had seemed to clue onto his mistake, quickly released your arm and took a step back as if he was attempting to look as though he was just a concerned onlooker, but what he hadn’t accounted for was the furious blonde who had seen the incident and was fast approaching.

“qué diablos crees que estás haciendo?”

the man, who was beyond cocky and aggressive only seconds prior, had now paled considerably at the sight of alexia who looked like she was seconds away from pouncing on the guard, who could only cower away from her irate demeanour. you were sure the only thing stopping her were the fans who had all stood in a stunned silence at what had just occurred infront of them.

“l-lo siento! it was a mistake, i was pushed!”

“you shouldn’t have had your hands on her in the first place, bastardo!” she spat, before she turned to you and the fire in her eyes melted away leaving only a puddle of concern in its absence.

“querida, are you okay? how bad does it hurt? can you walk?” alexia quick fired an abundance of questions at you, you who could barely concentrate on what she was saying as the pain took control of all your senses, all you could focus on was the sharp stabbing feeling that wasn’t getting better anytime soon.

the panic in alexia hit an all time high at the lack of response she received from you, as you continued to remain hunched over with an arm helping you lean against the barrier you had been launched into, and your other wrapped around your heavy bump. she ran a hand through her hair, a clear sign on stress in the thirty year old as she tried to think of what she could do next.

it was as if god had heard her silent plea for help, as a familiar accent reached her ears just as she was about to crack under the anxiety.

“yn? are you okay? alexia, what’s going on?”

alexia’s teary eyes met ingrid’s confused ones, the norwegian woman trying to figure out what was going on, it had only been a minute ago that alexia had excused herself from the teams celebrations to come and meet you near the bench, where you always met. only, when she began to make her way towards the tunnel so she could get ready and go home to mapi, she saw you with your back to the rest of the stadium and alexia with the angriest look she had ever seen on her friends face. not a good sign at all.

“he hurt yn! pushed her into the barrier and now she’s hurting but, she won’t talk to me and i don’t know what to do!” the catalan woman was quick to explain the situation to ingrid whose jaw dropped at the revelation, her eyes immediately seeking you out to see what state you were in now that she was up close.

she approached you cautiously, as if you were some wounded, stray animal who might run away at the first sign of contact, and placed a gentle hand on your back.

“call the medics over, they’ll be able to give her a brief assessment and will tell you if you need to get her to a hospital.” ingrid told alexia, her voice carrying a much needed sense of calmness that was desperately needed at the moment, but on the inside the dark haired woman was anything but.

alexia nodded rapidly, giving you one more troubled look as if she didn’t want to depart from you, but she knew you needed help, now. so she quickly spun on her foot and ran as fast as she could to the bench, where the medics were still gathering their belongings thankfully.

ingrid watched her go for a moment until her attention turned to you, “hey yn, can you stand up straight for me? or is it too painful?”

your iron like grip on the railings had your knuckles turning a white colour, which ingrid took notice of before you shook your head wildly, all that left your mouth was a harsh breath.

“you can’t stand up?”

this time you nodded.

ingrid sighed, already knowing you weren’t in a good state when she approached, but now her heart beat wildly in her chest when she realised how bad it really was. she could only imagine how erratic alexia was feeling, god knows what she’d be like if she was in this situation with mapi one day.

all the norwegian could do is rub you back in an attempt to ease even a tiny bit of your discomfort, but in the back of her mind she knew any of her efforts would be a waste.

it wasn’t long before alexia rushed back, this time with the medics following closely behind and even a few more barca girls who had overheard the loud ramblings of their captain a few feet away, and had to come see if you were okay.

the medics moved quickly to give you a look over, they weren’t specialised in anything pregnancy related unfortunately but they were the closest thing the team had to actual doctors so you just had to cope with what you had until you could be seen by the real thing.

they tried their best to asses you without causing you too much discomfort, a task easier said than done as you seemed to wince and cry out at every prod or poke near your stomach, which is where they needed to be. alexia watched a few feet away, feeling helpless as she watched her love almost collapsing from the pain and she could do nothing to help, not even hold your hand and whisper reassurances into your ear as the medics needed all the space they could get.

rölfo was on one side of her, rubbing the woman’s back in some attempt at comforting the captain, whilst claudia stood on her other side, gripping alexia’s hand in her own as she nibbled on her bottom lip, all three of them watching your every move.

the doctors asked you a few questions, similar to how alexia had done earlier but less frantically. what does the pain feel like? can you feel the baby moving at all? are you able to sit down? all were answered with a shake of your head, and your nerves grew when one of the female medics told you she was going to check under you dress to see if you had any bleeding.

both the staff, and the barca girls built a human made border around you so that she was able to discreetly lift your dress, just up to your upper thigh so that she was able to get a good look, the whole crowd of you visibly relaxing when she put her thumb up, no blood.

“we’re gonna get them to bring the ambulance on the pitch, okay? we need to get her to a hospital as soon as possible, the quicker we get her there, the better. she needs proper scans and tests that only hospitals can provide.” the medic explained, her eyes locking with alexia’s damp ones, who could only sniffle and nod in response.

the whole situation was surreal to her. only moments prior she was on a high from the win with her team, three points secured and an impressive clean sheet was the best turn out for her. and now, her stomach was in knots and she felt like she could be sick at any given moment, there was no way she could settle until she was reassured by a doctor that you and your baby were okay.

“alexia.” your strained voice called out amongst the various voices blending together around her, and the blonde perked up when she realised you were calling out for her.

she quickly approached you, cautious of your still hunched over figure with a hand quickly finding it’s way to the back of your head in an attempt to bring you any comfort as her nails scraped against your scalp with slow and gentle strokes. “mi amor? what’s wrong?”

“just, need you here. please.” you told her through gritted teeth, “don’t leave me.”

“nunca, dulce niña, nunca.” her words came across firm and steady, which was an apparent difference from her previous wobbly voice, something you were grateful for.

you knew alexia would be losing her mind as the seconds passed by, the usual calm exterior she demonstrated to the public whenever she knew she had eyes on her had been completely thrown out of the window, any worry for how people may regard her gone as her entire body shook with anxiety. but the second you needed her, needed that steady presence by your side to help you breathe properly, it was back.

she continued to comfort you in her own special was as you both uneasily awaited the arrival of the ambulance which you were assured was coming as fast as possible. her fingers glided through your hair, her nails continuing to scrape at your scalp, gently tugging on any knots and travelling all the way down to the nape of your neck, before travelling all the way back up again as she repeated the same motion over and over. you closed your eyes and tried your very best to focus only on your fiancée’s touch, rather than the pain that still seared just below your belly button, a task easier said than done.

eventually the blue lights flickered behind your eyelids, and the high pitched screech of the siren blasted throughout the stadium, alerting the few that weren’t already aware, that there was an emergency of some kind on the pitch. the vehicle came to a steady halt only a few feet away, eliminating as much walking distance as it physically could for you. the back doors swung open and two paramedics jumped out, a man and a woman who sussed you out pretty quickly, being the only obvious pregnant woman.

as they helped you into the back of the ambulance, alexia clung onto you the whole way, refusing to depart from you for even a second as if you were her life line. her hand stayed gripped onto yours, whilst her other stuck to your lower back whilst she gently guided you up the two stairs attached to the ambulance.

the barca girls said their goodbyes, wishing you well and telling alexia to keep them updated, though you weren’t sure if the blonde registered their requests, her body language showing no indication that she acknowledged them at all, but they didn’t take it to heart. they knew she would get into contact with them when everything had settled, hopefully with good news.

now, hours later, it was just yourself and alexia sat in a dimly lit hospital room, you laid back on the bed with alexia sat on the small couch that she had pulled up to the bed so that she could sit with her hand in yours, her thumb stroking your knuckles. you were both enjoying the peace and quiet after the long and stressful day you had both just endured, one you were both glad to see the back of.

the doctors had been in and out continuously, after their initial tests when you had arrived they were in good spirits about the health of your baby. they had let you know that everything seemed okay, the only concern they had was the baby’s heartbeat which was a little faster than normal but they reassured you that was more than likely due to the scare it had when you had fallen into the barrier with quite some force. still, they kept you in just to be sure, returning to the room every hour or so to do regular checks.

alexia was still clad in her barcelona kit, captain armband and all, even after you had reassured her you would be fine for an hour or so if she wanted to head home, shower and get herself into something a little comfier. she had only given you a look as if you had openly insulted her, adamant that she should stay with you to be sure that she was here if anything happened. she would never be able to forgive herself if she had left and things took a turn for the worse.

“how are you feeling now mi amor? are you still getting any pains?” she asked, her hands squeezing yours as she did.

“nope, they faded off awhile ago baby. there’s a little pressure but it’s not painful, maybe a little uncomfortable but i can deal with it.” you explained to her as best as you could, smoothing your spare hand over your clothed bump with an affectionate grin.

she nodded at your response, knowing there wasn’t anything she could do except be grateful that you were at least no longer in pain.

“i was so scared when i saw you, the way he pushed you, my heart dropped into my stomach i thought i was going to pass out from the panic i felt.”

you looked towards alexia with a frown, noticing the far away look in her eye as she spoke, her gaze was fixated on the bedsheets you were laid under as if she was replaying the earlier events in her head which didn’t surprise you one bit.

“hey, look at me.” you pulled at her hand, jerking her body forward slightly so that she was torn from her never ending, doom and gloom filled thoughts. her hazel eyes met yours and you felt your heart clench at the clear anxiety still present in them.

“i’m okay, the baby is okay, you’re okay. we’re all okay.” you spoke with confidence, making sure she believed every word coming out of your mouth. “i can’t imagine how scary it was to witness what you did, and i know it’s going to leave you shaken up for a long time but baby, everything is fine. in a few hours we’ll be dismissed, we’ll be back at home and it’ll be like nothing ever happened.”

you weren’t sure if those words were the right ones, but you did notice how alexia’s shoulders visibly softened and the grip on your hand fizzled ever so slightly, so you figured you must’ve said something she needed to hear. the star player nodded her head, her eyes momentarily flickering towards the monitor that kept record of the baby’s heartbeat before they returned to yours, this time her lips quirked upwards slightly and you were relieved to see her slowly returning the light hearted woman you knew her to be.

“you’re right, mi amor. and i am so glad you are okay, you mean everything to me. i hope you know that.”

you smiled at that, leaning forward to plant an appreciative kiss to the woman’s lips at her heartwarming words. “trust me ale, i know. and the feeling is wholeheartedly mutual.”

her grin mirrored yours, and you both shared another kiss, this one lasting a few seconds longer than the one prior. this time when you pulled away, alexia’s expression had transformed into a more serious one, her eyes darkening ever so slightly.

“that security guard will never be allowed back at any of our games again. not after today, he’s lucky he left in one piece, if you hadn’t been my main focus i would have done something i couldn’t undo.” she spat, her tone filled with venom towards the man who was the reason you were stuck in a hospital room right now.

“well it’s a good job i was then, huh?” you nudged her playfully, “though i appreciate the sentiment, i’m glad you didn’t end up doing something that could’ve potentially ruined your career.”

she hummed at that, “well he should think himself lucky that you’re okay, both of you. or else he’d be dealing with something else entirely.”

you didn’t respond to that, only smiled at the woman who was so fiercely protective over you and your unborn child, something that you found incredibly endearing.

just as you were about to ask if she was sure she didn’t want to return home to get a much needed shower and change of clothes, the door once again creaked open, and you looked over expecting to see the doctor that had been assigned to you. but instead, your brow arched in confusion when a head peaked around the slightly ajar door, one that certainly did not belong to the doctor.

instead, the blonde looked to you and alexia with a cheeky grin, with what looked like a ‘get well soon’ balloon floating in and out of the room behind her. “lo siento, but when alexia told me you were okay i had to come down and check for myself.”

mapi explained herself, and you smiled at the defender who was clearly itching to be invited into the room by alexia, who seemed to be stuck between amusement and annoyance at the impatience of her dear friend.

“is it just you?” alexia asked, rising to her feet for the first time since you had both been here.

“um, well.” mapi’s voice trailed off as she pushed the door wider, the culprits who had been exposed tensing up as they were now revealed to their captain, and you had to hold back your laughter at their nervous smiles.

alexia sighed at the sight of her teammates. patri, claudia, ona, salma, vicky and even aitana all stood in a huddle behind mapi who had obviously been elected as the one to enter the room first, the rest fearing the wrath of the great alexia putella’s if they entered at the wrong time.

“dios mío, you guys couldn’t have just waited to see us?” alexia sighed, and you hushed her.

“it’s okay bebé, i think it’s sweet. let them come in.” you told your fiancée who looked at you to make sure you were okay with it, when you nodded your head in response, she shook hers at your soft heart, but gestured for the girls to enter anyways which they did in seconds.

“where’s ingrid? i’m surprised she let you do this.” you asked mapi who was busying herself by tying the balloon to the side of your bed.

“oh she’s waiting in the car. incase alexia kicked us all out.”

(sorry i am awful at endings but i hope you enjoyed this)

#woso #woso community #fcb femeni one shot #fcb femeni #fcb femeni x reader #fcb femeni imagine #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #alexia putellas one shot #alexia putellas imagine #woso fluff #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso one shot

[bradshawsbaby]

Love in the Air

Pairing: Rooster x Female Reader

Summary: You weren't expecting anything interesting or exciting to happen on your flight from Virginia to San Diego. But what happens when you decide to shoot your shot with the handsome stranger sitting in front of you on the plane?

Word Count: 12.5k

Author’s Note: Thank you so much to my dear friend, @ryebecca for giving me the idea for this one! I've been mulling it over in my brain for a while now, and the super adorable Netflix movie Love at First Sight gave me some much-needed inspiration to finally see it through to completion. This story exists outside of the Mr. & Mrs. Bradshaw Universe, which is sort of a first for me, so I hope you all enjoy!

Warnings: Travel anxiety, some very mild angst, discussions of parental death, brief language, lots of fluff.

If you had to rank your preferred modes of transportation, flying would probably be at the bottom of the list, beat only perhaps by public bus or bicycle. It seemed that no matter how hard you tried to make it as smooth and easy a journey as possible, your experiences at the airport always turned into one catastrophe after another.

Your flight this morning was supposed to take off at 9:30am, which meant that you had scheduled the start of your day to ensure that you would be at the airport no later than 7:15, accounting for traffic and long lines at check-in and security. That, of course, meant that you had to leave your best friend, Katie’s house in Fredericksburg at 5:45 on the dot in order to make the sixty-one mile trip to Charlottesville-Albemarle Airport, and that was being generous. If the two of you stopped for coffee—which Katie insisted was a must—that alone had the potential to derail your plans, which had you nervously fiddling with the bracelet you never took off, the one your dad had given you as a gift for your high school graduation.

“Relax,” Katie laughed, taking her eyes off the road for only a moment to reach out and squeeze your hands reassuringly, halting your anxious movements. “You’re going to get there with plenty of time to spare. There’s literally no one on earth who’s a more responsible flier than you. Have you ever even come close to missing a flight?”

“No,” you admitted sheepishly, taking a small sip of your hazelnut iced coffee. It did little to calm your nerves, but it was one of the best iced coffees you’d ever tasted.

“Of course you haven’t,” Katie smiled, her eyes back in front of her as she signaled to merge into another lane. “So just take a deep breath and enjoy all this gorgeous fall foliage. I’m going to get you there without incident, I promise.”

Katie knew better than pretty much anyone how much flying tended to stress you out. The two of you had been attached at the hip since the first day of kindergarten. Your friendship had survived all the ups and down of adolescence, boy drama, the separation of going to colleges hundreds of miles apart, heartache, loss, and so much more. She was truly the sister you never had, and you couldn’t be more grateful to have her in your life. Even now that you were living in San Diego, and Katie and her husband had moved to Fredericksburg, Virginia for Josh’s job, nothing could keep the two of you apart.

Using a little bit of the vacation time you’d accumulated at work, you’d taken a long weekend to fly out and surprise Katie for her and Josh’s housewarming party. It had been months since you had seen your best friend in person, and the two of you had spent the past few days acting like a couple of high schoolers, staying up all night eating junk food and keeping poor Josh awake with your loud and hysterical fits of laughter.

You hadn’t realized just how lonely you’d been, all by yourself in San Diego, until you’d witnessed up close how cozy and happy Katie’s life in Virginia was.

It wasn’t that you were jealous of Katie, not by any means. She and Josh had met in college, and you were thrilled that your best friend in the whole world had found her person, the one who was going to be there to hold her hand through life and love her through every up and every down. You had even shed a few happy tears when Katie had confided in you this past weekend that she and Josh were finally trying for a baby.

You weren’t jealous, but you desperately longed for what she had. While Katie and Josh had been happily in love since sophomore year, your love life had been decidedly marked by one failed relationship after another. The most painful of which had been your last boyfriend, Andrew. That breakup had been what had propelled you to accept the job offer that had taken you to San Diego almost a year ago.

“Screw Andrew!” Katie had told you as she’d helped you pack up your entire life into a few suitcases and boxes. “You’re headed to the Hottie Capital of America!”

“I must have missed that moniker on the travel brochures,” you responded dryly, although it was the first time you’d felt the urge to laugh in weeks.

“Um, hello, missy. It’s literally called ‘Fightertown USA,’” Katie said, stopping what she was doing to turn and face you, hands on her hips. “You’re going to end up with some sexy fighter pilot, and I am literally going to wither away with envy,” she giggled, winking at you.

“Yeah, right,” you smiled despite yourself, nudging her playfully.

“It’s true,” Katie sighed, feigning dramatics as she draped a hand across her forehead and swooned onto your bed. “I can see it now. You’re going to make the cutest little Marine or Navy wife.”

And yet, for all of Katie’s confidence, there you were, a whole year later, just as single as you had been when you’d first arrived in Fightertown.

It wasn’t to say you were completely on your own. You’d made some really good friends at work, and you got along with all of your neighbors. You’d even gone on a few dates with some guys from North Island. But none that ever went anywhere.

Spending the weekend with Katie and Josh, being reminded of just how in love the two of them were, made you wonder if it was ever going to be your turn.

“You okay?” Katie asked, breaking your silent reverie as she took the exit leading towards the airport in Charlottesville. It wasn’t necessarily the closest airport, but it was the only one for today that offered the flight you needed to get back home. “You seem so quiet.”

“Hm? Oh, yeah,” you nodded distractedly, smiling as you took another sip of your iced coffee. “Just a little tired, I guess.”

How could you possibly tell your best friend that seeing her happiness caused an ache inside your chest that hurt like nothing else you’d ever known? You couldn’t. It made you feel guilty enough just to admit it to yourself.

“Feeling a little nervous about your flight?” she pressed, reaching for her own iced coffee as the car came to a halt at a red light. “I know it’s long, and you hate connecting flights, but I stuck some Benadryl packets in your bag, if that helps at all. It sucks that you have such a hard time sleeping on planes.”

Smiling, you leaned over and pressed an affectionate kiss to her cheek. What had you ever done to deserve such a good friend? And there you were, lamenting about all the things she had that you didn’t.

“You’re the best,” you told her sincerely, giving her shoulder a small squeeze. “I’m so glad I was able to get down here this weekend.”

Katie beamed brightly, reaching up to squeeze your hand before placing hers back on the steering wheel. “You’re telling me. It was the best surprise ever. I’m just sad I can’t keep you here longer.”

“I’ll be back soon,” you promised, trying to mentally calculate when you might be able to get time off from work again.

“Maybe you can come down for Christmas this year?” Katie suggested hopefully, glancing over at you with her big green eyes.

“Maybe,” you nodded, twisting your bracelet once more as you saw the signs for the airport approaching. “Or maybe I can fly you and Josh out to San Diego.”

“Oh, yes! Christmas on the beach? Sounds perfect,” Katie grinned, looking out for the sign for departing flights.

All too soon, Katie was pulling up in front of the Delta terminal where your flight would be taking off in just a few hours.

“See? Only 7:11! I got you here ahead of your insane schedule, even with the stop for coffee,” your best friend teased, a twinkle in her eye as she indicated the time on the dashboard.

“Yeah, yeah,” you waved her off, laughing out loud as she swatted your hand jokingly.

The two of you climbed out of the car to grab your luggage from the trunk. You’d done your best to pack lightly, which was never an easy task for you, even just for a weekend trip. But somehow, you’d managed to squeeze everything you needed into a carry-on bag. Well, that and a giant duffel that you were claiming was a purse.

“Ugh, goodbyes make me crazy,” Katie shook her head, clearly trying to hide the tears that were brimming in her eyes, which caused tears to spring to your eyes as the two of you reached for each other.

“I love you so much,” you told her, squeezing her tightly as she rocked you back and forth in her arms. “I’ll call you when I land.”

“Text me when you get to your gate,” she said, pulling back and taking your hands in hers. “And let me know if there are any cuties on your flight,” she added with a grin, waggling her eyebrows suggestively.

“I doubt I’m going to bag any cuties looking like this,” you countered sarcastically, indicating the yoga pants and oversized sweatshirt you’d donned that morning, as well as the messy bun you’d thrown your hair into.

“Shut up, you’re gorgeous no matter what,” Katie scolded you, swatting you on the butt. “Now get going. We wouldn’t want you being late or anything like that,” she joked.

You laughed as well, though your heart ached a bit as you grabbed the handle of your suitcase and began turning towards the doors of the terminal.

“Love you! Talk to you soon!” Katie called out, waving and blowing kisses.

You threw one more wave your best friend’s way, then disappeared inside the terminal, which was already fairly crowded despite the early hour.

As expected, despite the fact that you’d taken pains to get there early and make sure you were on top of everything, the unlucky cloud that seemed to follow you whenever you flew made its appearance once again.

You of course ended up on the slowest moving line at security, only to be heavily questioned by the TSA agent who seemed to be under the impression that you looked nothing like the photo on your driver’s license. Then, when you finally got to the security scanners, you set off the metal detector and had to be publicly groped by another sour-faced TSA agent. As if that wasn’t bad enough, your suitcase was “randomly selected” for extra testing and security checks.

Katie may have loved to tease you about it, but this was precisely the reason why you always left as early as you did to get to the airport.

By the time you were finally rolling your suitcase towards your gate, you were feeling more frazzled than ever. Naturally, the gate had changed since your boarding pass had been printed, and now you had to trek halfway across the airport to find the new one.

You wondered what it felt like to be one of those lucky travelers whose gate was right at the center of the terminal, right near all the restaurants and shops. It had never been you. Without fail, no matter where or when you were flying, your gate always ended up being at the farthest corner of the terminal.

When you finally arrived, triple checking that the gate number matched your flight information, you let out a heavy sigh as you grabbed an open seat at the end of the row. To your surprise, you found that you were seated right next to an open outlet. You never got that lucky.

Turns out, you really did never get that lucky. When you plugged your phone in, you found that it wasn’t charging. Evidently, the outlet was open because it didn’t actually work.

Muttering under your breath, you unplugged your charger and threw it back into your duffel bag. At least your phone was still on 74%. You’d much prefer to have it fully charged, but this would do until you could charge it on the plane.

Glancing down, you realized that you had missed a text from Katie.

At the gate yet???

Rolling your shoulders back and getting more comfortable in your seat, you opened up the message so that you could send a quick response.

Just got here. You’d think I was on the No Fly List with how long it took me to get here.

Katie must have made good time getting home, because it wasn’t long before your phone was buzzing with another text.

😂😂😂 Get yourself a drink!

Katie, it’s not even 9am…

So? A mimosa then!

You laughed, shaking your head. A mimosa didn’t actually sound like such a bad idea right now. Neither did a large iced coffee. But now that you’d finally made it to your gate, you didn’t feel like dragging all your stuff with you across the terminal once again. And you didn’t feel comfortable leaving your things behind, unattended or even in the care of a stranger. Maybe you’d just order one on the plane.

When your phone buzzed again in your lap, you looked down and saw that it was another text from Katie.

Any cuties to share that mimosa with???

You were about to text her back that right now, the only cuties you could see were an adorable four-year-old and an elderly couple who must have been in their eighties when suddenly, the most gorgeous man you had ever seen in your life appeared, as if out of thin air. You were suddenly glad you didn’t have a mimosa or an iced coffee in hand, for you were certain that you would have spit it out in shock upon seeing this guy.

Jaw hanging open and eyes widening, your brain was too fuzzy from lack of sleep to remind you that it was wholly inappropriate and rude to stare.

He truly had to be the hottest man you had ever seen up close in real life. Tall, with broad, thick shoulders and a muscular build. His hair was a golden brown that looked like it was touched frequently by the sun—as did his skin, which was an amusing combination of both tan and pink, as though he should have applied just a pinch more sunscreen than he had. Most surprising of all was the mustache that made your stomach do a strange little flip. You usually weren’t all that attracted to facial hair of any sort, and most guys couldn’t pull off the mustaches they tried to sport, but this particular mustache was the sexiest thing you had ever seen. And somehow, despite not knowing this man from a hole in the wall, you couldn’t imagine him without it. It was like it was a part of his DNA.

Thankfully, he was still staring down at his boarding pass, so he hadn’t noticed your intense scrutiny. Coming to your senses, you closed your mouth and quickly averted your gaze, your cheeks growing hot with embarrassment. How mortifying. Imagine if he had looked over and caught you staring at him, gaping like a fish out of water?

Still, despite your self-consciousness at the thought of getting caught, you couldn’t help but steal another glance in his direction, this time out of the corner of your eye. He looked even taller this time around. It probably had something to do with the way he carried himself, an easy confidence pouring off him. This man knew he was hot stuff, of that you were sure. But there was also something unassuming about him, something quiet and almost humble. He was dressed in a pair of dark sweatpants and an old UVA T-shirt, nothing fancy or flashy. Somehow, however, he managed to pull it off even better than a three-piece suit.

You were startled out of your observations when your phone buzzed again. It was Katie, emphasizing her last message impatiently.

Do you have some kind of magic powers that I was unaware of to make hotties appear out of nowhere? Right when you texted me, the hottest guy I’ve ever seen walked up to my gate.

‼️‼️ GO TALK TO HIM!!! ‼️‼️

At the mere suggestion of going to talk to that guy, your stomach erupted into butterflies. Looking up once again, you saw that he had evidently confirmed he was at the right gate, and had settled down in a seat a couple rows over, facing away from you. God, even the back of his head was handsome.

Are you crazy? This guy is seriously the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen. I look like a homeless lady that wandered in off the street. I am NOT talking to him!

Your phone buzzed angrily a moment later.

Will you shut up before I drive back there to hit you upside the head?! YOU are gorgeous!!! Who cares if you have no make-up on and your hair’s in a messy bun? It’s called airplane chic! You’re still completely stunning. He would be LUCKY to have a girl as hot as you want to talk to him!

Chewing your bottom lip, you looked up again, trying not to be obvious as your eyes slowly wandered over the people at your gate, until they landed on him once more. He was on the phone this time, having an animated conversation with whoever was on the other end of the line. Occasionally, he would turn slightly in your direction and you could catch a glimpse of his side profile.

Damn, this man was seriously perfect from every angle.

“Alright, Mav, I’ll see you when I land,” you heard him say—not that you were trying to eavesdrop—before he hung up the phone and dropped it back onto his lap.

It was then that you noticed his phone was plugged into the outlet next to his seat.

Maybe this could be your opportunity? You could casually walk over and see if there were any other open outlets near his. Perhaps you could even make a joke about how it was just your luck that the outlet near your seat wasn’t working. Maybe he’d laugh and tell you some horror story from his travel experiences and the two of you would end up talking until you exchanged numbers. Maybe there was some tiny, infinitesimal chance that this stunning man would actually be charmed by you and possibly even the teensiest bit interested.

Or maybe you would just remain rooted to your seat, terrified to move as you stared at the back of his head.

You were already anticipating the text from Katie when your phone buzzed once again.

The reason you’re not answering me better be because you’re in the middle of a conversation with Mr. Hottie from your gate!!!

Biting down on your lip, you turned your phone over, not knowing how to tell your best friend that you were too much of a chicken to get out of your seat and approach this guy.

At that moment, however, you were suddenly saved, at least somewhat, when a member of the flight crew announced that they were about to begin boarding. Forgetting about Katie’s texts and the hot guy sitting several feet away from you for a moment, you began gathering together all your belongings, making sure you hadn’t forgotten anything.

When your boarding group was called, you did one final sweep around your seat, securing the strap of your duffel bag up on your shoulder and wrapping one hand around the handle of your carry-on before making your way to the line extending from the counter.

As you stepped up behind the elderly couple you’d noticed earlier, your boarding pass slipped out of your hand, floating through the air despite your best attempt to reach for it, and landing somewhere behind you.

Turning to find it, you nearly collided with the tall wall of man behind you, who was bending at the same time to grab it off the floor.

“Oh!” you gasped, startled to find that Mr. Hottie, as Katie had dubbed him, was not only standing behind you in line, but was also holding your boarding pass in his hand, glancing down at it.

“San Diego with a layover in Atlanta, huh?” he grinned, glancing from the boarding pass up to your face. Unsurprisingly, he had a beautiful set of whiskey-colored eyes that made your stomach do the same strange little flip that his mustache had induced. Oh, and up close, the mustache was even sexier.

“Oh, um, yeah,” you nodded dumbly, your tongue suddenly feeling like it weighed a thousand pounds as your brain short-circuited and couldn’t come up with a single worthwhile thing to say.

“Glad to know I’m not the only one,” Mr. Hottie went on, holding your boarding pass out to you. “Looks like we’ve got a long day of flying ahead of us.”

Mouth hanging open, you slowly reached out and took the boarding pass from him, trying frantically to think of something—anything—to say. He was flying to San Diego, too? You were on the same exact flight? Including the same layover?

“I—I—”

“Hey, the line's moving!” someone from the back called out, sounding annoyed.

Turning back over your shoulder, you were mortified to see that the elderly couple in front of you had disappeared and you were, in fact, holding up the line.

“Oh, um, I’m sorry,” you mumbled, ducking your head as you clutched your boarding pass and reached out for your carry-on. “Thanks again for grabbing this for me,” you told Mr. Hottie, waving your boarding pass slightly before turning and practically running towards the counter.

With his long stride, he caught up to you in no time, his smile friendly and warm as the two of you joined the line of people waiting to board the airplane.

“You weren’t holding anyone up,” he whispered down to you, as if it was some special secret the two of you were sharing. “I don’t know what that guy was in such a rush for. To move from that line to this one? We’re all getting out of here at the same time.”

You smiled at his words, feeling comforted by his reassurance. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Some people are just always in a hurry.”

The two of you were quiet after that, and you wondered if that would be the end of the conversation. You were casting around for anything else you could talk about when he suddenly asked you, “So are you leaving home or heading home?”

Your heart fluttered at his question. If he didn’t want to keep talking, he wouldn’t have asked that, right?

“Heading home,” you told him, fiddling shyly with your bracelet. You laughed softly. “It’s still kind of weird saying that. I’ve only been in San Diego for about eleven months.”

He raised his eyebrow, one corner of his mouth turning up in a smile. “Yeah? Well, I know I’m a little late, but welcome to Fightertown. I hope it’s been treating you well.”

“Oh, it has been,” you nodded, making sure to pay attention to when the people in front of you began moving forward. “I take it you’re heading home then, too?”

“I am,” he grinned, shouldering the backpack he was carrying with him. “Well, actually, I’m kind of leaving home and heading home,” he amended. At your curious look, he explained, “I’m from Virginia originally, but I live in San Diego now. I guess you could say I’m a transplant, just like you,” he added with a chuckle. “Are you from Virginia, too?”

“New York, actually,” you told him, as the two of you followed the flow of people towards the plane. “But my best friend and her husband moved to Fredericksburg recently, so I was spending the weekend with them.”

“Ah, that’s a nice area,” he nodded, rubbing the back of his neck as he glanced down at you with a smile. At your unspoken question, he said, “I was actually down for a reunion weekend at my school. I went to UVA.”

“I gathered,” you replied teasingly, indicating his T-shirt.

Glancing downward, he shook his head and laughed. “Almost forgot I threw this on when I woke up. Trying to get to the airport on time is a real pain, isn’t it?”

“Absolutely,” you agreed with a laugh, adjusting your hold on your duffel bag. “Flying is definitely one of my least favorite modes of transportation.”

“Hmm, I don’t know if I’d say that,” he said in reply, an amused look on his face.

Before you could ask him what was so funny, however, you were being welcomed aboard the plane by the stewardesses, who were all smiling and indicating that they expected you to keep moving down the aisle.

Your heart dropped slightly at the abrupt end to your conversation. Now the two of you were going to go to your separate seats, and he’d probably forget all about you. It was one thing to make idle conversation with a stranger while on line, but you doubted he had any real interest in continuing the conversation beyond that.

Sighing softly, you rolled your suitcase down the aisle, pausing every now and then as the people in front of you put their bags in the overhead bins and got themselves sorted. When you finally reached Row 22, you stopped and looked back at Mr. Hottie with an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, this is me. I’ll just be a minute,” you told him, pushing down the handle of your carry-on.

“No worries, this is me,” he grinned, indicating Row 21. “I even snagged the window seat,” he added with a wink.

Your mouth went dry. He had the window seat of Row 21. You had the window seat of Row 22. He was sitting directly in front of you.

“Here, let me help you with that,” he said, reaching for your carry-on bag and easily hefting it above his head, sliding it into the overhead bin for you. “Do you need me to put this one up there, too?” he asked, pointing towards your duffel bag.

“Oh, no, it’s okay,” you shook your head, holding onto the strap of your bag. “I’m going to keep this one with me. Thanks a lot,” you smiled, not even noticing the line of disgruntled people that was beginning to form behind the two of you.

“No problem,” he smiled, starting to slide into his row with his backpack still on his back. “Have a great flight.”

“You, too,” you replied, a little sadly, as you crawled into your row, doing your best to ignore the annoyed looks some people were throwing your way.

Needless to say, it was just your luck that the impatient man from the boarding line ended up sitting right beside you. You tried to smile at him, but he just grunted and put his headphones on, completely ignoring you.

Fine by you. Pulling your phone out, you found that you had a whole new series of texts from Katie, demanding to know exactly what was happening.

On the plane now. We should be taking off soon. I talked a little bit to Mr. Hottie. Are you happy?

It didn’t take long at all for her to respond. You could imagine that she had been sitting by her phone, waiting eagerly for your message.

Eeeee, yes, very! What did you guys talk about? Are you sitting near each other on the plane? Did you exchange numbers??? Send me a picture!!!

You laughed softly to yourself as you tried your best to answer all the questions your excited friend had asked you.

Just small talk. He’s actually flying home to San Diego, too. He went to UVA and was there for a reunion weekend. We did not exchange numbers and I’m not going to be a creepy stalker and take a picture of him, but he actually is sitting in the seat right in front of me.

OMG, IT’S FATE!!! So he has the same layover and everything??? And he’s FROM San Diego?! Babe, this is the guy for you!!! You’ve got to keep talking to him!

How would you suggest I do that? Just tap him on the shoulder and whisper into his ear the whole time?

It’s only a couple hours to Atlanta, and then you’ll have the layover, and then another four and half hours to San Diego. You could practically be engaged by the time you land! Just slip him a little note or something. Give him your number!

Your stomach was doing somersaults at the mere thought. Between the two of you, Katie had always been the more outgoing one. She would have no problem slipping a note with her phone number on it to a complete stranger, putting herself out there for the possibility of rejection and utter humiliation. You, on the other hand, preferred to play it safe. It was much more comfortable that way. And sure, maybe you’d never met your Josh the way Katie had, but at least you’d never been hurt too badly, right?

Unbidden, you thought of Andrew and felt bile rise in your throat.

Luckily, you were saved from having to answer Katie right away when the cabin crew made the announcement that it was time to shut down all electronics. Switching your phone onto airplane mode, you slipped it into the front pocket of your duffel bag and took a deep breath, buckling your seatbelt and closing your eyes.

Takeoff was your least favorite part of any flight. When you were a little girl, your parents used to make funny faces and sing silly songs to distract you from your terror. Even now as an adult who was flying all on her own, you still tried to remember the sound of their voices as the plane began its ascent.

It didn’t take too long before you were finally cruising at 18,000 feet and the captain turned off the seatbelt sign. Since you were a Delta SkyMiles member, you got free Wi-Fi on all your flights, so you immediately reached to turn your phone back on to let Katie know you had taken off safely.

As soon as your phone connected with the Wi-Fi, it was instantly flooded with a slew of text messages. A couple were from some of your friends back in San Diego, wishing you a safe and easy flight, but most were from your crazy best friend.

Don’t think you can use being on a plane as an excuse not to answer my texts!

I know you’re a SkyMiles member and you can see these messages!

You better answer me!!!

Shaking your head, you quickly tapped out a quick message in response.

Took off safely. Thinking of watching a movie before we land in Atlanta. You’re crazy and I am not slipping him a note.

Your phone was blessedly quiet for the next several minutes, and part of you hoped that Katie had given up this ridiculous notion. Knowing her as long as you had, however, you should have figured that wouldn’t be the case.

What’s the worst that could happen? He doesn’t answer you? The two of you never talk again? You’ve never seen this guy before in your life, and the chances are good that you’ll never see him again after this. So if you put yourself out there and it doesn’t work out, who cares? At least you tried. And sure, it might be a little embarrassing at first, but like I said, you’ll never have to see him again. But what if you thought about it the other way around? What if it DOES work out? What if this could be the start of something great? Would you really just want to walk away, wondering what could have been and regretting that you didn’t take a chance? You deserve to be loved so, so, SO much! And I know that you have so much love to give! This guy would be lucky if you chose him. Just give it a try, will you? For me? Please! You can’t see it, but I’m giving my best puppy dog face right now. And sending you all the best vibes! You can do this! I love you! ♥️

You groaned at your best friend’s heartfelt message. How could you possibly say no to that? You knew Katie just wanted the best for you, and she wanted you to be happy. You wanted to be happy, too. What if she was right? What if this was your chance? Would you be a fool to just walk away from it without even trying? Like Katie said, at least if you tried, you could say you’d done all you could. And if it didn’t work, then Mr. Hottie just wasn’t the one for you. No harm, no foul.

You were starting to feel like you might need to make use of the vomit bag tucked securely in the seat pocket in front of you when the stewardess stopped at your row to offer you all snacks and beverages. You gratefully accepted a can of ginger ale and a packet of pretzels, nibbling on them slowly in an attempt to settle your roiling stomach.

You were being an idiot. There was no reason to be so dramatic about all this. You could write a quick note and pass it up to him, then pretend it had never happened. Seriously, what was the worst that was going to happen? He was going to get up and make an announcement over the loudspeaker that the girl sitting in 22A was a pathetic, lonely loser? You doubted that very much.

Before you could lose your nerve, you reached into the front pocket of your duffel bag and pulled out the pen you always kept there. Turns out, it really did come in handy. Mercifully, the grumpy man beside you was already snoring, so you could write your note in peace without being worried about him seeing what you were doing.

Hand shaking slightly, you penned a quick letter to the handsome, charming man in 21A.

Hi there. I realized in all our talking that I never caught your name. But it might be good to know, seeing how we’re layover buddies and all. Hope you’re enjoying the flight so far.

You signed your name at the bottom, and then took a deep breath, reading over what you had written on the back of your Delta napkin. It sounded impossibly stupid, but you’d come this far and you weren’t going to turn back now. What was it that people on the internet were always saying? Something about shooting your shot?

Breathing through your nose to avoid getting sick, you reached out a trembling finger and lightly tapped the broad shoulder that you saw peeking out from the seat in front of you. You suddenly realized that he may have been asleep and panicked at the thought of waking him up, but he shifted immediately at your touch and you could tell that he was turning towards you.

Not wanting to meet his eye, you immediately thrust your napkin into the small open space between your seats and the windows, silently praying that he would take it from you instead of laughing in your face.

A second later, you felt his large fingers brush against yours as he took your little note, shifting in his seat once more so that he was facing front again.

What had you just done? Oh, God, there was still another hour left to go on this flight, then a layover, and another four and half hours to San Diego. True, you would never have to see him again after you landed in California, but that was still a lot of time left to have to be in proximity to him if all of this blew up in your face.

You were just about ready to launch yourself out of one of the emergency exits when you suddenly looked up and realized that there was a small white napkin hovering above your head.

Mr. Hottie in 21A was reaching back with your note in hand. Your stomach plummeted and your face and neck grew warm with shame at the thought of him returning the letter you’d written him, until you noticed the red ink on the back of it. 

You’d written your note in black ink.

Slowly reaching out, you took the napkin from his hand, your fingers brushing against each other once more. His were large and warm and calloused and made goosebumps rise on your arm.

Pulse beating rapidly, you turned over the napkin to see the response he had written on the back. His handwriting was a bit messy, more of a scrawl than anything, but it made you smile to look at it.

What was I thinking, not properly introducing myself to my layover buddy? Hope you can forgive me. My name is Bradley. I don’t suppose there’s any chance you’ve got some Wi-Fi on this flight, do you? If you do, feel free to text me. We seem to be dangerously low on napkins.

At the bottom, he’d written his cell phone number.

Pressing a hand over your mouth, it took everything in you to swallow back the squeal of delight that rose up your throat. It worked! Katie’s silly plan had actually worked! Oh, she was going to gloat about this forever when you told her.

Beaming brightly, you pulled out your cell phone. As much as you loved her, Katie could wait right now. You had an extremely gorgeous layover buddy to get in touch with.

Typing his number into your cell phone, you opened up a new message and contemplated what to say for a moment.

Layover buddies who both just so happen to have some inflight Wi-Fi? Clearly it’s meant to be.

You hoped the message came across as cute and flirty instead of desperate and weird as you hit send, anxiously waiting to see if he would reply.

It took only a moment before your phone buzzed, Bradley’s name lighting up your screen.

Layover buddies who both just so happen have some inflight Wi-Fi AND spring for the window seats? Obviously it’s meant to be!

You smiled and were about to think up a reply when another message suddenly came though.

Oh, and to answer your note—I’m enjoying the flight a lot more now.

The butterflies went crazy in your stomach as you wrote back to him.

Me, too. And that’s saying a lot, considering the four-year-old behind me hasn’t stopped kicking my seat since we boarded.

Bradley only took seconds to reply.

Oof, that’s rough. If I could switch seats with you, I would. But I have to admit that I’m very happy that you’re not kicking my seat.

Wouldn’t be too sure about that, you sent back teasingly before lightly nudging his seat with your foot.

Hey! I thought we were friends!

We’ll see 😉

You and Bradley went back and forth like that for the entire remainder of your flight to Atlanta, the banter light and easy as you teased and joked with each other. You even ended up playing a game of 20 Questions, in which you learned, among other things, that Bradley’s favorite color was red, he once broke his arm when he was seven years old, and he absolutely despised peas.

As the captain announced that you would soon begin preparing for your final descent, you shot off a quick message to Katie, who you had woefully neglected during your conversation with Bradley.

I owe you one. The pep talk and the plan actually worked—I’m texting Mr. Hottie as we speak! Update you soon. We’re about to land in Atlanta.

Just as you sent the message off to your friend, another text from Bradley arrived.

Looks like we’re going to have to turn off our phones, layover buddy. I’ll see you when we land. Food? I’m starving.

Grinning, you had to pinch yourself to check that this wasn’t some sort of elaborate dream.

Same. I’ll race you for some french fries.

You’re on.

When the plane finally landed and the captain turned off the seatbelt sign, everyone practically jumped out of their seats in a mad dash to see who could be the first to get their belongings out of the overhead bins. Since you and Bradley were in the window seats, you took your time, knowing you weren’t getting off the plane anytime soon.

You were surprised, however, when he suddenly popped his head over the back of his seat, grinning down at you. “Good thing our next flight doesn’t leave for a couple hours yet,” he said, indicating the crowd with a good-natured grin that made your heart melt.

You had almost been starting to think you’d exaggerated just how good-looking he was, but nope. He really was that hot.

“Plenty of time to grab those fries,” you laughed, smiling up at him.

When you and Bradley were finally able to step out into the aisle, he opened the bin above your head and reached for your suitcase.

“Let me take care of this for you,” he said, lowering it to the ground and lifting the handle so that he could wheel it up the aisle.

“Oh, you don’t have to,” you insisted, not wanting him to think that you expected him to carry your things for you.

“Hey, what are layover buddies for?” he winked, leading the way off the plane.

Once the two of you were standing face to face in the middle of the airport terminal, you began to feel a little shy and self-conscious again. It had been easy to talk to Bradley via text, but now that you were gazing up at his handsome face again, you suddenly found yourself getting just as tongue-tied as before.

Bradley seemed to sense your nerves because he smiled warmly at you, his demeanor just as open and friendly as it had been the entire time you’d known him.

“How about we hunt down those fries?” he suggested, waiting until you smiled and nodded before turning and guiding you towards the main concourse.

The two of you ended up finding a quick and easy little fast food counter, where you ordered a couple burgers, a large order of fries, and some vanilla milkshakes with whipped cream and cherries. As soon as it became clear that Bradley was going to pay for both your meals, you tried to argue and insist on paying your share, but he wouldn’t hear it.

“My mom raised a gentleman, and she would kill me if she thought I was even thinking of letting my layover buddy pay for her lunch,” he told you, winking playfully as he handed his credit card to the employee behind the counter.

You took your suitcase from Bradley as he balanced the tray with your food in his hands, leading you to an empty table towards the end of the concourse.

“Your mom must be very proud of you, I’m sure,” you grinned, reaching eagerly for a fry and popping it into your mouth. “Did you get to see her while you were in Virginia?”

Bradley smiled, though his eyes suddenly looked a little sad. “Yeah. Yeah, you could say that.”

Deciding not to press the matter, you instead turned the attention to his college reunion. That led to the two of you happily swapping stories about your time in college, which landed you on the subject of what you do now.

“A naval aviator? Really? And a TOPGUN graduate? That’s very impressive,” you gushed, mentally picturing him in a flight suit. You’d gone on a couple dates with some naval aviators from North Island, but none as handsome or as charming as Bradley. You suddenly groaned and covered your face with your hand when you remembered what you’d said to him right before boarding the plane. “So that’s what you meant when I was saying that flying isn’t my favorite mode of transportation,” you murmured, feeling a little embarrassed.

Bradley threw his head back and laughed at that, looking genuinely amused. “Hey, I get it. Flying isn’t for everybody. Trust me, some days I wish I had just opted for a desk job,” he grinned, his muscles flexing as he stretched in his seat. “But there’s nothing quite like it, when you’re the one doing the flying. Maybe one day I can take you up in the air and change your mind.”

He looked across the table at you and held your gaze, and you felt sure in that moment that you would have promised him anything he asked.

“So what’s your call sign then?” you asked with a smile, resting your cheek in your hand as you looked into his eyes.

“Oh, you know about that, huh?” he chuckled, the tips of his ears turning pink. “Well, uh, they call me Rooster.”

You had a feeling he expected you to laugh—maybe other girls in the past had—but you just grinned brightly in response. “I like it,” you said simply. “It suits you.”

He let out a small breath and smiled in return. “Thank you. My dad’s call sign was Goose. So I guess it runs in the family.”

“Your dad is in the Navy, too?” you asked curiously, lifting your milkshake and taking a sip.

Bradley cleared his throat slightly, looking down at his lap. “He was. He died in a training accident at TOPGUN when I was two.”

You sucked in a breath at your own carelessness and looked across at Bradley with empathy glowing in your eyes. “Oh, Bradley,” you murmured softly, reaching out and resting a hand over his. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he replied gently, a small smile on his face as he placed his other hand over yours. “But thank you.” He was quiet for a moment before he went on. “It was just me and my mom for a while, back home in Virginia. But she got sick when I was in high school, and she passed away my senior year.”

“Bradley,” you breathed out sadly, your heart breaking for him. You winced when you thought of what he’d said before, about seeing his mom while he was in Virginia.

“She and my dad are buried in my hometown, where I grew up. I go to see them at the cemetery whenever I’m back in town,” he explained, as if reading your thoughts.

“I’m sure that means a lot to them, and that they’re smiling down on you always,” you told him sincerely, squeezing his hand lightly.

He smiled up at you, the sadness in his expression lifting slightly. “I like to think so. I think they’d like you a lot,” he added, then looked away. He suddenly seemed embarrassed.

The two of you sat back, disentangling your hands as you sat in mildly awkward silence for a moment or two.

“What about your parents?” Bradley asked, clearly looking for a way to change the subject. “Do they still live in New York?”

It was your turn to look sad now. “Well, we actually have a lot in common, Bradley. Only I guess my story is sort of in reverse. My mom passed away when I was six years old. She got in a car accident on her way home from work. And my dad passed when I was a freshman in college. Lung cancer.”

“Shit,” Bradley muttered, shaking his head and running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

“It’s okay,” you cut him off, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. “You couldn’t have known. And it feels kind of nice talking about it with someone who I know understands. You know what I mean?”

“Yeah,” Bradley nodded, his expression serious as his dark eyes rested on your face. “Yeah, I do.”

You and Bradley sat in companionable silence as you finished your meals, then checked to see how much time you had before your connecting flight.

“I guess we should start making our way over to the gate,” you suggested, glancing at the time on your phone. You had about ten text messages from Katie, but you were too embarrassed to open them anywhere near Bradley.

Bradley nodded in agreement, wordlessly taking the handle of your suitcase and leading you back across the concourse.

“Hey, we got so distracted talking about my job that I never even asked what you do,” he suddenly realized once the two of you were seated at your gate, both your phones charging in a nearby outlet.

“Oh, yeah,” you smiled, brushing a loose strand of hair that had escaped your bun behind your ear. “Funny enough, I actually work for the Midway Museum,” you told him, glancing up at him, only to find that he was already gazing down at you.

“No way! Guess we’re both stuck aboard aircraft carriers for work then,” he chuckled. “What do you do?”

“Well, my official title is digital content specialist,” you said, biting down on your lower lip. You felt like it always sounded a bit pretentious. “Basically, I help run the museum’s digital accounts—social media, their website, email blasts, things like that. My degree is in marketing and communications, so that’s basically what I do.”

“That’s amazing,” Bradley said, and you could tell that he genuinely meant it. Some guys just pretended to be interested in your job as a pretense for trying to get into your pants, but you could tell that Bradley actually cared about what you had to say. He was actually listening. “Is that what brought you out to San Diego?”

“It is, actually. I had been applying to a few different places, and when I got word from the Midway that they were interested in hiring me, I thought that maybe it was the fresh start I needed,” you confessed.

“Has it been?” Bradley asked quietly.

“I think so,” you nodded slowly, absent-mindedly twisting your bracelet around your wrist. “It’s hard sometimes, being so far away from my best friend, Katie—the one I was visiting. She’s pretty much the only family I’ve got left. But I like the life that I’m building in San Diego.”

“That’s good. I’m glad to hear it,” Bradley smiled, his hand lightly brushing against yours as he shifted in his seat. He looked like he was about to say more when the flight crew called your boarding group.

“Looks like we’re going to be sitting near each other again, 21A,” you teased, glancing down at his boarding pass as the two of you rose and grabbed your phones.

“Glad to hear it, 22A,” he joked in return, holding up his phone and waving it back and forth. “And now my phone is fully charged for our trip back to San Diego, so let the texting commence.”

Giggling, you nodded as the two of you walked down the rampway side by side and made your way onto the plane and to your seats without incident. When you got there, however, you saw that there had been some confusion with a young family that looked to have four children under the age of eight. It seemed as though their tickets had gotten split up so that they weren’t all sitting next to each other, and the mother was frantic.

“Excuse me, ma’am?” Bradley asked, quickly taking stock of the situation. When the woman looked up at him, clearly stressed out and worried he was going to yell at her, he smiled comfortingly. “I was just going to say that, if you’d like, you can have my seat. I’d be happy to take yours since it looks like it’s next to my friend here anyway. That way, we can all be comfortable and sit with the people we want to sit with.”

“Oh, thank you!” the young mother exclaimed, looking ready to hug Bradley. “Thank you!”

She and her husband quickly got their children settled, thanking Bradley a few more times for good measure, while he took your carry-on and set it in the overhead bin.

Once you had settled in your window seat, Bradley took the seat beside you, grinning impishly.

“Look at that. Now we don’t even need to waste the Wi-Fi,” he murmured, nudging you playfully.

“Things just have a way of working out for us today, don’t they?” you laughed, settling your duffel bag at your feet. “I’m just going to send a quick message to Katie, to let her know I made it onto my connecting flight,” you told him, reaching for your phone and quickly opening Katie’s messages so that Bradley wouldn’t see them.

“Good idea, I should text Mav,” Bradley said, grabbing his phone out of his pocket. At your confused look, he explained, “My godfather. He’s also in the Navy, and he also just so happens to be stationed out in San Diego. He’s going to pick me up at the airport.”

Nodding, you sent a brief text to your best friend, promising you would call her as soon as you got home, then settled in for the flight and tried to get as comfortable as possible.

As soon as you felt the plane jolt to life and begin taxing towards the runway, your chest grew tight and your grip on yours and Bradley’s shared armrest started to turn your knuckles white.

“Hey,” Bradley said softly, genuine concern in his voice as he glanced over and noticed how on edge you suddenly appeared. “You alright?”

“I’m fine,” you lied, keeping your gaze fixed straight ahead on the screen in front of you, which was currently playing some Delta commercial that your brain could scarcely register.

“I think your death grip on our armrest would suggest otherwise,” he pressed gently, his tone remaining light and good-humored. “You trying to take that thing with you?”

Startled, your nervous trance was broken and you glanced down to see what Bradley was talking about. Sure enough, your nails were digging into the armrest so intensely that you wouldn’t have been surprised if they left little crescent-shaped marks in their wake.

Letting out a shaky laugh, you looked up at the man beside you ruefully. “Okay, truth be told, I get a little anxious during takeoff,” you confessed, biting your lip in embarrassment. He would probably think that was silly. He was a fighter pilot, after all. His day job involved flying multi-million dollar aircrafts for the military. And here you were, acting like a scaredy cat over a commercial Delta flight.

Bradley’s eyes crinkled in a way that you found devastatingly charming as he smiled over at you. The look on his face was kind, without a single trace of mocking humor.

“Want to know a secret?” he whispered, leaning in closer to you so that his nose was nearly pressed against your cheek and you could feel his breath on your skin. “So do I.”

“You’re kidding,” you scoffed, shooting him a skeptical look. He was probably just trying to be nice. “But you’re a naval aviator!”

“Yeah, but I’m not the one flying this plane, am I?” he retorted with a lopsided grin. “It’s hard to put the reins in someone else’s hands. So I understand being nervous. Hell, I still get a little nervous sometimes when I’m flying an F-18. Just don’t tell anyone I said that,” he added, lowering his voice conspiratorially.

“Oh, of course not,” you giggled, smiling over at him. Glancing out the window, you realized that his conversation had distracted you so much, you hadn’t even noticed that the plane had finished its approach towards the runway and was officially waiting for takeoff.

Some of your nerves returned, and you gripped the armrest once more, but this time, you felt Bradley’s large, yet gentle fingers close over yours. Surprised, you turned your head sharply and instantly met his gaze. It was direct and disconcertingly open as he looked deeply into your eyes.

“It’s okay,” he assured you in a low voice, squeezing your fingers comfortingly. “We’re going to be okay.”

“My parents used to sing to me during takeoff,” you found yourself blurting out suddenly, your cheeks growing warm at the admission. “I can remember my mom doing it when I was a little girl, and my dad used to do it for me even when I was in high school,” you explained shyly, lowering your eyes to your lap.

At that moment, your stomach dropped as the plane suddenly began hurtling forward, seeking enough momentum to become airborne.

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to recall the sound of your parents’ voices in order to calm your racing heart. But a new voice suddenly entered the mix as you felt your newfound flying buddy lean across the armrest, his warm body pressing against your side as he sang quietly in your ear.

“You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain…”

Wait a second. You knew that song. Where did you know that song from?

“Too much love drives a man insane. You broke my will, but what a thrill…”

Yes, you definitely knew that song. It was on one of the records your parents used to play when you were a little girl. Was it Jerry Lee Lewis?

Gasping in recognition, you whisper-sang the next lyric in harmony with Bradley—“Goodness gracious, great balls of fire!”

He laughed in delight when you began singing along, squeezing your hand with an affectionate grin. “And would you look at that,” he said, nodding towards the window. “We’re airborne. Wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Shocked, you followed his line of vision and were taken aback to see that you were already ascending into the clouds, leaving the city of Atlanta far behind. That had been one of the smoothest takeoff experiences you’d had in—well, you couldn’t even remember how long.

“I barely even noticed!” you exclaimed, focusing your attention back on Bradley. You smiled gratefully, your heart melting at the adorable puppy dog look on his face. “Thank you, Bradley.”

You noticed at that moment that he still hadn’t let go of your hand, and your pulse began to quicken, but this time for entirely different reasons.

“You’re welcome,” he murmured in response, his voice low and suddenly husky. It did something to you, that deep, raspy voice of his. “Happy to do it.” He squeezed your hand gently once more, then slowly—almost hesitantly—let it go.

“I haven’t heard that song in the longest time,” you told him, resting back against your seat. “My parents used to listen to it.”

Bradley smiled slightly. “It’s the one song I can actually remember my dad singing. He loved to sing and play the piano. My mom had tons of home videos of him doing it. But that song—that song I can actually remember hearing him sing, you know? I was so young when he—well—I can remember that one. And that’s why it’s my favorite to sing and play.”

“You play the piano, too?” you asked, impressed. “Wow, a man of many talents.” You nudged him playfully, a big smile on your face.

“I’ll have to show you what I can do,” Bradley replied, winking.

Your stomach fluttered at the implication that he might actually want to see you again after today.

“I’d like that,” you admitted, ducking your head shyly. You suddenly felt much more aware of everything around you, particularly every inch of your muscular seatmate. Goodness, he really was huge, wasn’t he? Chewing nervously on your bottom lip, you began fidgeting with your bracelet, tugging at it absent-mindedly.

“That’s a pretty bracelet,” Bradley commented, pointing at it as he watched you twist it back and forth around your wrist. “A gift?” he asked lightly, his tone almost a little too casual.

“Mhm,” you nodded, smiling fondly as you gazed down at it. You could still remember the day you opened it. “My dad bought it for me as a present when I graduated high school. I never take it off.”

“Ah,” Bradley nodded, appearing surprisingly relieved. He was quiet for a moment or two, looking like he was mulling over something. Then he turned towards you and asked, “So, um, is there anybody waiting for you in San Diego? Anyone, uh, special, I mean?” he asked, his cheeks and his ears turning red as he rubbed the back of his neck.

You felt your own skin grow warm in response. Was Bradley asking if you had a boyfriend? And was he embarrassed about it? Just when you thought this man couldn’t possibly charm you any more than he already had.

“Not unless you count my neighbor, Mrs. Flores. She really appreciates it when I walk her dog on the weekends,” you told him, your lips twitching as you tried to maintain a straight face.

Caught off guard by your response, Bradley let out a loud laugh, covering his mouth with one hand as he glanced down at you, eyes twinkling.

“I’m sure Mrs. Flores will be very happy to see you back again,” he nodded, tapping his fingers on his tray table.

The two of you sat in silence for a couple minutes until you finally glanced up and said, “I had actually just gotten out of a long-term relationship right before I moved to San Diego. It was kind of the catalyst for why I decided to take the job at the Midway Museum.”

“Oh, really?” Bradley asked, eyebrows shooting up. Then he cleared his throat, shaking his head. “I mean, I’m sorry to hear that. If it’s too personal, we don’t have to talk about it.”

“No, it’s okay,” you sighed, twirling your bracelet a few times as you thought back on your last failed relationship. Surprisingly, it didn’t hurt as much as it normally did. Maybe time really did heal all wounds. You took a deep breath before you elaborated. “Andrew and I were together for four years. For a long time, I really thought he was the one. Katie was convinced that he was going to propose on our trip to Greece. It was a dream vacation for me. I had the whole thing planned out for months and months. And I really started to let myself believe that it was going to happen.”

Bradley sat quietly, watching you carefully as he attentively took in every word you uttered.

“We were in Athens, and I had the whole day planned—all these tours and museums. But Andrew insisted that he was too tired since we had just traveled from Rhodes, and he begged me to let him stay behind at the hotel. Being the idiot that I am, I thought that maybe he wanted to put the finishing touches on his big proposal. So I went on the tours by myself. But the last tour ended early, so I came back to our hotel room a little sooner than expected.”

Your throat began to tighten as the story continued, the pain of what had happened next eclipsed only by your embarrassment that Bradley would soon know how pitifully your last relationship had ended. Why had you brought all this up?

“I’ll spare you all the details, but suffice it to say, I found Andrew in bed with one of the cocktail waitresses from the hotel bar. And to no one’s surprise, there was no ring and he never had any intention of proposing. So I flew home from Greece minus a boyfriend and with very little remaining of my dignity. Leaving everything behind and starting fresh in San Diego seemed like a really good idea, so when the Midway contacted me, I jumped at the offer. And here I am,” you finished with a self-conscious laugh, shrugging your shoulders awkwardly.

Bradley didn’t say anything at first, just continued to stare at you in a way that had you feeling distinctly exposed. Your fingers immediately went to your bracelet once again, nervously fidgeting and waiting for him to say something.

Reaching out, he placed his hand over yours and stilled your movements gently. “First of all,” he began slowly, looking directly into your eyes. It seemed as though he was peering directly into your soul. “Andrew is a complete and total loser. If he didn’t know what he had in you, then he never deserved you to begin with. It’s his loss, and trust me, he’ll be regretting it for the rest of his life if he has even an ounce of sense.” His thumb brushed lightly against your knuckles, making your legs suddenly feel like Jell-O. “Second of all, I’m so sorry. You didn’t deserve that, and I hope you know that the way that idiot treated you in no way says anything about you. I’ve only known you for a few hours, but I can see that that guy never deserved you to begin with.”

Feeling bashful, you lowered your head, trying to escape the intensity of Bradley’s dark eyes. It didn’t matter though—you could still feel his gaze.

“You don’t have to say that,” you murmured, not wanting him to think you had just unloaded all of this on him for sympathy points.

“I’m not just saying it,” he insisted, his voice serious. “You’re a special girl, and you deserve to be with someone who treats you that way.”

Someone like you?

The thought sprang unbidden to your mind, causing you to grow flustered. “Th–thank you,” you stammered, worried for half a second that Bradley could actually read your mind.

You were saved from having to make any further comment in that moment when the stewardess suddenly appeared with the food cart, asking you if you wanted any snacks or beverages.

You opted for a Diet Coke and popcorn, while Bradley took a Sprite and a bag of potato chips.

“What do you say? A little toast to my new flight buddy?” Bradley suggested teasingly, holding his can of soda out towards you.

You couldn’t help but smile, lightly tapping your can against his. “Cheers to us,” you laughed, taking a small sip.

“To us,” Bradley grinned. “You know,” he went on, after taking a gulp of his Sprite, “if you ever want to think about getting your pilot’s license, I’d be happy to have you as my wingman—er, woman.”

You laughed aloud at the notion, shaking your head. “Um, did you already forget about how well I handled takeoff? I’m not so sure anyone would trust me behind the controls of a plane.”

“I could teach you,” he shot back, waggling his eyebrows until you laughed again. “Or at the very least, take you up for a little joyride. I’d make sure to keep you safe.”

Your heart warmed at his words, and you found yourself wondering what it would be like to walk through life with this man, to have him be the one you came home to every day.

To have him be the one to make you feel like the most special girl in the world.

“I would like that,” you confessed, pushing your self-consciousness to the side as you looked into his eyes. “I would like that a lot.”

“So would I,” Bradley replied, his expression earnest.

For the next hour or two, you and Bradley shared some of the snacks you’d packed in your duffel bag and talked about everything and nothing at the same time. You had never felt so instantly at ease with someone who had been a complete and total stranger just a few hours earlier. The fact that he had been in San Diego all this time, right under your nose, and that it had taken a flight home all the way from Virginia for you two to actually meet felt like more than just a coincidence. It felt like this was exactly where you were supposed to be.

At some point, you must have finally succumbed to your exhaustion and fallen asleep because when the captain announced that you were making your final descent into San Diego International Airport, you were lifting your head off Bradley’s shoulder and blinking in confusion.

“Hello there, sleepyhead,” Bradley grinned, wiping a hand down his face and rubbing the sleep out of his own eyes.

“How long was I asleep?” you asked, stretching your arms over your head. “I never sleep on planes.”

“Well you definitely slept on this one. I’d say you were probably out for at least an hour and a half,” he told you, running a hand through his hair, which made his sunkissed curls stand on end. “I nodded out, too. Guess we both needed it, huh?”

“Yeah, guess so,” you nodded, smiling at him.

By the time you finally deplaned—after Bradley, of course, had insisted on taking down your carry-on suitcase from the overhead bin and rolling it through the airport for you—you were growing both eager and anxious with anticipation of what the end of your journey would look like.

You and Bradley technically already had each other’s phone numbers, so should you say something about getting together? Would that seem too brazen? Should you just text him tomorrow and hope that whatever spark had been ignited during your travels today wouldn’t be extinguished by the time you both got home?

All of those thoughts and more were running through your head as you and Bradley took the escalator down to baggage claim and the terminal exit.

“Do you, um, do you have somebody picking you up?” Bradley asked as the two of you stepped off the escalator. He stepped to the side to avoid the flow of the crowd, and you stepped with him. “Mrs. Flores perhaps?” he added with a teasing spark in his eye.

“No,” you giggled, shaking your head. “I was just planning to call an Uber.”

“No need,” he said, his chest puffing out ever so slightly. “Mav and I will give you a ride home. He should actually be here already,” he mumbled, almost to himself, as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and scrolled through his messages.

“Oh, you guys don’t have to do that. I wouldn’t want you going out of your way,” you hurried to tell him, noticing that Bradley still had his hand on the handle of your suitcase.

“Who says it would be going out of our way?” Bradley retorted with that impossibly charming smile of his. “Unless, of course, you’re more comfortable taking an Uber. I don’t want to make you feel like—”

“No, no, you’re not,” you interrupted, wanting to make it clear to him that you appreciated the offer.

Seemingly at an impasse, the two of you just looked at each other and started laughing.

“I would love a ride, thank you. If it’s not too much trouble,” you told him.

“Never,” Bradley insisted. “Besides, you put up with me all day. I owe you.”

“I could say the same thing,” you grinned, reaching into the front pocket of your duffel bag and pulling out your cell phone. “In the meantime, I should text Katie and let her know I landed safely and that you haven’t abducted me or anything,” you teased jokingly.

Too late, you realized your mistake.

“Ah, so you told Katie about me, huh?” Bradley smirked, looking just a tad too pleased with himself. “What did you say?”

“Oh, um, nothing, just that I made a friend while traveling,” you stammered in humiliation, your cheeks feeling like they were on fire. “I’m just, um, I’m going to step over there while you get your bag.”

“Sure, sure,” he laughed, winking at you as he hurried over to the baggage carousel to search for his suitcase.

“Oh my God, how stupid are you?” you muttered to yourself, mentally kicking yourself for your careless words as you sent off a quick message to your best friend to let her know you were alive.

A moment later, she texted you back.

YOU BETTER CALL ME THE MINUTE YOU GET HOME!!! I WANT EVERY. SINGLE. DETAIL!!!

Smiling, you dropped your phone back into your bag and looked up to see Bradley walking towards you, his suitcase in hand.

“Ready to head out?” he asked with a smile, watching as you grabbed the handle of your carry-on and did one quick scan to make sure you hadn’t dropped anything.

“Ready,” you nodded, following him outside to where a slew of Ubers and other cars were waiting to pick up their passengers.

“There’s Mav,” Bradley told you, pointing with his free hand towards the end of the pick-up line, where a handsome older man with dark hair and an easy smile was waving at you.

“Your godfather drives a Porsche?” you asked, your eyes nearly bugging out of your head at the sight of the vintage car. It was in pristine condition and you were certain it must have cost a small fortune.

“Technically, it’s his fiancée, Penny’s car, but she lets him drive it when he’s been good,” Bradley joked, resting a gentle hand on your back as he guided you through the crowd.

Bradley was quick to embrace his godfather when the two of you finally reached the Porsche, slapping him on the back before stepping back and holding out a hand to you. “Mav, I’d like you to meet my new travel buddy,” he grinned, introducing you by name.

Mav, as Bradley kept calling him, offered you one of those easy smiles as he held out his hand, which you took with a smile of your own.

“Ah, so this is the girl from the plane I’ve been hearing so much about,” Mav smirked, shooting a pointed look in his godson’s direction.

“Mav!” Bradley hissed through gritted teeth, his complexion instantly turning pink, even in the shade.

“Ah,” you smirked, feeling vindicated from your earlier blunder. “So you told Mav about me, huh?” you asked, nudging his side. “What did you say?” you teased, tossing back his question from before.

“Oh, he said plenty,” Mav jumped in, clearly enjoying watching Bradley squirm as he opened the passenger side door for you.

“Don’t listen to him. He’s crazy. All those Gs he’s always pulling have finally gone to his head,” Bradley protested, although he was smiling as he said it.

“Oh, I think I’m going to enjoy this car ride very much,” you giggled, winking at Bradley as you slid into your seat.

“Promise you’ll still like me by the time we get home?” Bradley whispered, leaning in close as he climbed in beside you.

You grinned up at him, thinking about how, for the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel so alone. San Diego suddenly felt much more like home than it ever had.

“Promise.”

#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #rooster x reader #bradley bradsaw x reader #x reader #x female reader #top gun #top gun: maverick #miles teller

[fairysluna]

Hi! Could I please request another threesome with Cregan, reader and Jace. Maybe they get jealous when they see reader with another men and want to teach her a lesson? Thank you and love your blog!

i get drunk on jealousy.

Modern!AU — After they've ignored you for a week, you were desperate to have their attention back. Flirting with a random guy might not be the best idea.

MASTERLIST

PAIRING — Cregan Stark x Fem!Reader x Jacaerys Velaryon.

TAGS — polyrelationship/polyamorous, m/m/f, smut (p in v, clit play, handjob, oral sex, creampie, spitting, cum eating, male on male action), jace x cregan, use of alcohol and drugs, kind of drunk sex, dom!cregan, switch!jace, sub!reader, jealousy, cursing. If something is missing let me know!!

AUTHOR'S NOTE — Don't expect so much of this fic, I saw this picture, I saw a vision, and basically my horniness wrote this by itself. Not my best work, but fuck it, this is just for fun. Also, this made me realize that I'm unable to write dom!Jace if Cregan is there too, oops??? I guess??? NO BETA, WE DIE LIKE MEN.

I took this request as an excuse to write this fic so... thank you for sending it and hope you enjoy this!🤍

WORD COUNT — 3.1k

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤenglish is not my first language.

Most people on Campus knew about your strange relationship with Cregan and Jacaerys. Some guys would often call you a whore behind your back, while some girls would prefer the term ‘lucky bitch’; it was no secret that the both of them were quite known for being handsome and gallant, almost acting like real life prince-charmings. Every girl would drool for them, acknowledging their chivalry and politeness. Of course, they already knew about the attention that they received from the opposite sex, they knew about how many girls would love to be in your position. Which is why they didn't understand why you were so eager to act like a brat.

Jace tapped Cregan's shoulder as he saw you chatting with some random guy that suddenly appeared next to you on the couch. Neither of them had seen him before, he was probably a freshman or someone that sneaked into the party without invitation. Both pairs of eyes were intently staring at you, watching every move you make. They knew you weren't oblivious enough to not see it; he was obviously flirting with you, and you were clearly enjoying every moment of it. Jacaerys, being the most jealous out of the three of you, tightened his grip around his bottle of beer, his fingertips turning white as Cregan turned to look at him.

“Don't do anything stupid,” he warned him. “She'll deal with us later.”

“But look at her!” Jace snapped, his breathing ragged.

“She's doing it to piss us off,” Cregan attempted to calm him down. “She won't do anything with that guy. Just wait until the party's over and we'll take care of it, okay?”

He looked at him, obediently nodding as he took a long sil out of his beer to calm down a bit. Jace forbade himself to turn your way, ignoring your desperate attempt to make them jealous. Cregan, being a lot less hotheaded than Jace, acted nonchalantly toward your attitude, pretending you were doing nothing wrong, even when he wanted to grab your arm and take you right in that couch just to clarify that you belong to them.

Cregan knew your purpose, you both had spoken about it earlier that day after one of your classes together. They both have been ignoring you, neglecting your needs and spending more time alone — without you. At first you didn't mind it, thinking that they were busy with the final exams and their final projects of the semester; however, when you knew they were using all that time to plan this stupid party you got pissed, almost screaming at him in the middle of the campus, frustrated. Now here you were, sitting with a freshman trying to get in your pants, all while they were still ignoring you.

Both guys spent the rest of the night drinking, playing some games with other members of the fraternity and having a blast while you were standing in a corner, alone and bored; your two lovers out of your sight. Perhaps that was why you couldn't see Jace searching for you everytime he could, unable to control the jealousy that had grown within him. He couldn't find you anywhere around, which made his mind overthink about where you were, and with whom. Cregan would try to calm him down, offering him his blunt which Jace would accept in order to relax.

Hours passed, it was 4am when the music stopped and everyone passed out in random parts of the fraternity house. Cregan and Jace were stumbling their way up to their dorm, the effects of the alcohol still lingering in their bodies as they struggled to reach for their room. They both were holding onto each other until they opened the door and saw you standing in front of the mirror, wiping off your make up and getting ready to sleep. They noticed you had moved their beds together, making a bigger one as you usually do whenever you stayed with them.

They entered the room in silence, and while Cregan was closing the door and turning the lock, Jace stood closer to you almost drooling once he saw you were wearing one of his shirts. He wrapped his arms around your waist and hid his face on the crock of your neck, leaving wet kisses all over your skin and completely forgetting about the fact that he was supposed to be ignoring you.

“You're so fucking weak, Jace,” Cregan scolded him, removing his shoes and shirt, getting ready to bed.

You turned to look at the eldest guy, who just ignored your intense gaze.

“You're mad?” you dared to ask.

“We both are, actually,” Jacaerys murmured against your skin.

“And why would you be mad? I should be the angry one!”

“Oh, really?” Cregan finally turned, stepping closer to you. “Why is that?”

“You know why! We talked about this and you decided to keep ignoring me!”

Stark laughed dryly, his gray eyes getting darker as he narrowed them. “Is that why you've been acting like a fucking whore tonight? Trying to get into a freshman's pants to get our attention. Fucking pathetic.” He took a step close enough to grab your jaw and force you to look at him. You tried to squirm away from him, but Jace's arms tightened their grip around your body, and you had no escape. “Jace couldn't even enjoy the fucking party because he thought you were sucking another guy's cock. You think that's fair? To make him feel like shit the entire night because you were just needy of attention?”

“I- I didn't-”

“You broke my heart tonight, sweetheart,” Jace whispered in your ear as his fingers reached the hem of your shirt. “You need to pay for what you've done…”

“I'm- I'm sorry, I never meant to-”

“It seems like you need a lesson,” Cregan interrupted you, tightening his grip on your face and making you whine. “Something to remind you that you belong to us.”

Jacaerys' hand cupping your core with one of his hands, burying his fingers between your folds and covering them with your growing slick. He giggled, “she's not wearing panties…” he informed, smiling up at Cregan who clenched his jaw.

“Get her on her knees,” he commanded, and the youngest obeyed immediately, letting you go from his firm grip.

You fell to your knees, scratching them with the raspy carpet beneath you. Jace removed his shirt as Cregan started to unbutton his pants until they pooled around his ankles along with his underwear. You whimpered once you saw his cock starting to get hard under your haze, your mouth watering as you leaned towards his side.

“Get on the bed,” he pointed at Jace. You tried to stand up and follow the instructions too, yet he stopped you by gripping the front of your head and pulling it back. “Not you,” he sternly said. “Open up.”

Obediently, you did as you were told, opening your mouth and letting him press his tip on your tongue. He gave it a few taps, teasing before ge finally decided to start fucking your mouth. Cregan grabbed the sides of your head to keep you still in your position, and his hips started to snap against your throat without further warning. You found stability when you placed your cold hands on his thighs, grasping onto them so you wouldn't lose balance as he had no mercy with you.

You looked up teary eyed, gagging and gulping loudly as you heard his moans slipping out of his plump lips. The small eye contact suddenly became too much for him, so he leaned his head back as he closed his eyes. “Such a delicious mouth,” he praised you, “taking my cock so fucking well.”

His grip around your head started to hurt a bit, his fingertips burying in you as he fastened his pace. It wasn't hard for you to become a mess; your own drool was falling down the corners of your lips as you cried out, your whines being muffled by him inside your mouth, and your slick already starting to leak out of you. Your arousal only grew once he buried himself completely in your mouth, grabbed the back of your head and forced you to stay there for a few seconds, with his length fully sheathed in your throat. Your nose brushed against his pelvis as the air started to escape from your lungs.

“Come on now, baby,” he murmured with a strained voice, feeling his cock pulsing inside your mouth. “Take it… take it all…”

He chuckled softly as you started to tap on his thigh, and he quickly let you go. You gasped once he pulled out of your mouth, gasping for the air your lungs desperately needed. He moaned softly once he saw you; tears on your face, drool falling down your swollen lips — you looked so pretty he even thought about letting you go unpunished and just please you, but then he turned to see Jace; his cock was achingly hard, his ruddy tip leaking as he desperately fucked his fist; he had been so good to you, and you made him feel so bad throughout the night; he deserved a reward, and you deserved a punishment.

Before you could react, Cregan grabbed your body with ease, lifting you up from the ground and carelessly carrying you towards the bed. You moaned with his touch, so needy of him that even his roughness made you squirm out of pleasure. He moved your body around as if you were a ragdoll, shifting your position in bed until you were sitting on top of Jace's pelvis, his cock right between your legs. For a second you thought it was finally the time for them to fuck you, but you were so wrong.

“Grab her hips,” he commanded, using that mandatory tone that drove you and Jace insane. “Don't let her move.”

He positioned himself between the boy's legs, leaving you more confused than before. “What- what are you-?”

“I'm teaching you a lesson,” he stopped you before you could finish your question. “You'll see what happens when you behave and when you don't.”

You saw him leaning down, his plump lips wrapping the tip of Jace's cock and making him squirm beneath your body. Your mouth dropped as you looked at Cregan taking him entirely, his haze fixed in you as the frustration in your body grew even more. The youngest had his nails buried in the flesh of your hips, you heard him moan so prettily that you could even feel the slick oozing out of you, even when you were untouched. It was such a sinful image to witness, especially when Cregan's eyes became teary once he gagged around Jace.

“Oh, fuck…” you mumbled, tears of despair gathering in your eyes as your breathing became ragged. “P-please touch me…”

Jace's hand attempted to reach for your throbbing clit, but the older grabbed his hand and pushed it away. “I'll stop if you touch her,” he warned him. All you could do was cry out.

Cregan's ragged breathing would reach your folds, causing shivers all over your spine. You would try to move your hips to at least rub yourself against Jace's skin, but he didn't allow it, holding you down so tightly that you were certain it would leave a bruise.

The moans turned into whines as Jace started to quickly feel the orgasm coming. His skin was burning as Cregan fervently sucked on his tip, using his tongue to clean up the precum spilling from his slit. Whenever you would cry out or move on top of him he would feel closer to the edge, his body burning inside. “I'm so fucking close, baby,” he whimpered, “keep sucking my cock, I'm- I'm gonna fucking cum… f-fuuck.”

You saw Cregan hollowing his cheeks, milking Jace dry as he came inside his mouth. Drops of the pearly seed escaped from his lips and you felt the need to lick them both clean. You needed a taste, anything that would make you feel some kind of relief.

He sat back up, and as soon as he laid his hazy eyes on you, he grabbed your neck pulling you closer towards him. As if it was a reflex, you opened your mouth while you stared at him through your glossy eyes. He let his spit fall onto your mouth, to then pull you close and fervently kiss you. The salty taste of Jace's release lingered in your mouths as you devoured each other, you would whine against his lips, still sobbing as your pussy was already aching for the lack of attention.

That's when the boy beneath you wrapped you between his arms, forcing you to lay on top of his chest. He didn't even let you catch a break before you felt his cock slowly making his way inside of you, and you gasped out of relief. He stretched you out, providing you with that sweet sting of pain that drove you insane. His hands grabbed your thighs, folding you in half as he started to thrust upwards.

“Don't ever forget who you belong to,” he grunted against your ear as you struggled to keep it quiet. Probably the whole house knew what you were doing, and maybe that was their purpose all along. “You're fucking ours, baby. This tight pussy belongs to us, do you hear me?”

Cregan's hand fell hard on your throbbing clit as you remained silent. A whine left your lips as Jace kept bullying your gummy, wet walls with his girth.

“Answer him,” he demanded, getting closer to you and placing his leaking cock on top of your swollen pearl. You felt the room spinning.

“Yes! Yes! I'm- fuck… I'm fucking yours,” you sobbed.

The whole situation became overwhelming, while one was burying himself in the deepest part of you, the other was rubbing himself on your sensitive flesh, searching for his own release as he wrapped his hand around your throat.

“Fuck, you're fucking squeezing me so tight, baby,” Jace moaned, breathlessly as he felt the mixture of your slick falling down his sack. The lewd sounds of your folds getting stretched by his thickness almost making him cum again. “So fuckin delicious…”

“We've just started and we already fucked her silly,” Cregan chuckled. “She's a fucking mess for us…”

A layer of sweat covered your body; you felt the blood burning inside your veins, the orgasm approaching you embarrassingly fast as they were stimulating your senses. Your eyes rolled back, the desperate pleads slipping out of your lips as you were begging them to make you cum. You were shaking, your face covered in tears as the moans were ripped out of your throat.

“So loud,” the older teased you, “gonna wake up the whole fucking house…”

“I- I need to… please, I need to cum!”

Cregan leaned towards you, and Jace instinctively fastened his pace, burying himself deeper and harder; you had a hard time thinking straight as the older’s hands tightened around your neck. “Ow, poor girl, wants to cum. I don't think you deserve it.”

“P-please, Cregan…”

“Work for it,” he demanded. “Make Jace cum and then you're free to do it too.”

Almost as if it was an instinct, you started to move your hips up and down Jace's cock, making the thrusts more intense and deeper. The younger moaned loudly, already feeling overstimulated by your movements and feeling his sack heavy with a new load of his release. He thought about how pretty you would look with your legs spreaded and his seed falling from your weeping hole; that image alone almost made him peak right in the spot.

“Jacey, please!” you whined, already growing tired. “Please, please, cum in me!”

“Want me to fill your pretty cunny, baby? Mhm? Want my cum inside of you?” he teased, and you rolled your eyes as your walls clenched with his filthy words.

“Yes… yes, please… give it to me, please…”

As a spectator, Cregan groaned loudly, quickly rubbing his hands around his shaft with his eyes fixed in the way Jace was filling you up, bewitched by that bulge in your belly that grew each time that he would bury himself deep inside of you, touching your sweet spot over and over until your head feel dizzy and all that left your mouth were incoherent mumbling.

“I can't… I can't hold it…” you sobbed.

“Come on, baby, I'm so fucking close, just wait for me,” Jace whimpered, his movements getting more desperate and sloppier.

“I can't! I can't! F-fuck…”

Everything came to a breaking point once your release gushed out of you, spurring all over them and making a complete mess. Neither of them could hold back after such an obscene view in front of them, and they were quick to follow. Jacaerys finally spilled himself in you, his seed painting your walls and filling you to the brim. Lastly, Cregan stained your shirt and flesh with his pearly drops, moaning so beautifully that it made you feel butterflies in your belly.

You hissed when Jace pulled out of you, feeling your legs shake while Cregan struggled to stand up from the bed and looking for something to clean you up while you laid against the younger’s body, who softly wiped the tears out of your face.

“Shh… it's okay, you did so good for us, my love,” he cooes, so gently. “So, so good.”

“I'm- I'm sorry,” you mumbled while Cregan returned to your side with a towel in his hand. With soft brushes he started to clean your thighs, your belly and the raw flesh between your legs. “I- I never meant to make you two feel bad… I was- I was being so selfish-”

“Hey,” Cregan stopped you, holding your face with gentleness; so different from his previous touch. “It's already behind us, okay?”

Once he finished cleaning you up, your body fell into Jace's embrace as he wrapped his arms around your body, pulling you closer to him and cuddling with you. He hid his face on the crook of your neck and softly hummed when the remains of your sweet perfume reached his nose.

“We love you so much,” he whispered, “please, don't ever do that to us again…”

You grabbed your face only to see his puppy, brown eyes. A gentle, soft kiss was shared as you felt Cregan laying down behind you and fondling your body, soon you three had your limbs tangled as you kissed and caressed each other without shame. Loving touches that relaxed all of you.

“I'm sorry,” you whispered again to the both of them. “I'll never do that again.”

“Do you promise?” Cregan asked.

“I promise,” you softly nodded.

The Northern boy leaned to leave a soft kiss on your cheek, you both shared a gentle smile which let you know that the anger that was once within him was now fully gone.

follow @by-fairysluna for updates!!

GENERAL TAG LIST — @islandfantasydream @arcielee @bucknastysbabe @zaldritzosrose @rafeism @valeskafics

CREGAN TAG LIST — @purplequxxn @iloveharbingers @jeongiegram @koobratzy @foxyanon

JACAERYS TAG LIST — @iloveharbingers @alynna-m @katharina1111 @simp-aholic

#house of the dragon #hotd #cregan stark smut #cregan stark x reader #cregan stark #jacaerys velaryon smut #jacaerys velaryon x reader #cregan stark x jacaerys velaryon #jaceagan #hotd smut #hotd fanfic #cregan stark x you #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys velaryon x you

[supernovafics]

a lazy morning with boyfriend!steve (18+)

wc: 964

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

it was a soft stroke against your cheek and a featherlight kiss against your forehead that pulled you from your sleep.

your eyes fluttered open and you saw steve, who had the sweetest smile on his face. you would’ve been at least a little annoyed at him for waking you up right then, at a time that you knew was way too early, if it weren’t for that smile.

the soft glow of the early morning sun poured through the curtainless windows in his bedroom. if it hadn’t been steve waking you up right then, you knew that in a couple of minutes it would’ve been the sun when it hit his bed almost too perfectly. you’d much rather have a wake up call from your boyfriend than the sunlight that felt incessant this early in the morning. 

you let out a soft groan and pulled the blanket over your heads, enveloping you both in some darkness. “i really need to get you some curtains.” 

“you mean us. you need to get us some curtains.” 

“i technically don’t live here.” 

your boyfriend shifted closer to you, lips brushing against your forehead once again. “yet.”

it was hard to keep track of the nights you’d spent here at his apartment over the last year; you’d lost count after the first few months. it was something that definitely happened more often than not and you practically were already a permanent part of it; your presence lingered even when you weren’t there, and you loved the moments where your nights and mornings were spent with steve. but it was hard to make the official leap into making the place “ours” instead of simply just his. 

because, logically, it was too soon; you two had barely been together a year. but it also felt so weirdly right, and there was a part of you that wanted to throw practicality out of the window and lean so heavily into that “rightness.”

you buried your face in his neck and let out a soft hum. “soon.”

“soon sounds really good,” steve hummed back as an arm circled around your waist and pulled you closer. you didn’t waste a second to tangle your legs with his and wrap yourself around him, your hand beginning to trace mindless circles against the bare skin of his back. 

you were wearing his t-shirt and yours was somewhere on his bedroom floor, thrown there by him after he hurriedly pulled it off of you last night. and steve knew that you’d forget about it and it’d probably stay there for at least the next few days, but he didn’t mind that in the slightest.   

he loved finding the random little pieces of “you” that were littered around the small apartment— a book that you finished reading but forgot to take home, cassettes of some of your favorite albums that now sat on his shelf, a couple pairs of your underwear and so many of your socks that somehow ended up in his laundry.

there was a part of you that wanted to lull yourself back to sleep for at least an hour or two longer, arms and legs wrapped around steve and face buried in his neck; an unconventionally comfortable position. but then there was something else that you wanted to do on this early sunday morning where neither of you had anywhere important to be anytime soon. 

your lips found the underside of his jaw, pressing a soft kiss against the stubbly skin. “need you.”

the two words practically vibrated his skin and the low groan he let out was immediate. his hand snaked underneath your, his, shirt and started trailing up, up, up until it was circling your breast and his thumb was brushing against your nipple. 

“please, stevie,” you whispered, and hearing how needy you sounded made him want to immediately fold. 

steve nodded, it was the only response he could give you in that moment. his other hand found your chin and tilted your face upward, so that he could press a kiss to your lips. 

and from there it was a mix of tangled limbs beneath the sheets and warm mouths against soft skin. the movements were rushed but also slow and languid. steve made quick work of pushing your underwear down your legs and you did the same with his boxers, but the kisses you shared were the opposite; they were attentive and sweet. you took your time sucking on a certain spot on his neck and leaving a pretty little mark, and he slowly moved his mouth against yours, wanting to savor it all. 

“need you inside,” you whined against his lips. 

“mhm, i know, honey,” he whispered as he grabbed your leg to hook it over his bare hip. he squeezed your thigh tightly before pushing home inside of you with one slow movement. 

the pretty noises you let out were swallowed by him before you were burying your face in his shoulder and then deep into his neck, your soft moans sounding like sweet music to his ears. 

probably from one of the first few moments you two met, steve knew that he wanted this forever. he was good at that; falling hard, falling fast. 

he wanted to always fall asleep with you and wake up next to you, fuck you every early morning; even on the days where one or both of you had places to be. he wanted his space to become yours too. but, he was also okay with waiting until you were fully ready to take that next step. 

and it would be next week, when you two were having another moment just like this one, that you finally listened completely to your heart instead of your head and told him yes.

#something sweet for valentine's day<3333 #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington headcanon #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things fluff #stranger things imagine #steve harrington imagines

[wonijinjin]

seventeen’s hiphop unit when their s/o falls asleep on them

author’s note: was feeling tired, wrote it quickly hehe. let me know if you guys want the other unit versions aswell! the vocal unit version of the fic is available here.

synopsis: what the title says

word count: 0.7k | genre: pure fluffiest fluff | pairings: hiphop unit x gn! reader | warnings: mention of food in wonwoo’s

you were laying in bed with cheol, pillowtalk being the routine of most of your nights, just casually discussing how you spent your day. “then i had to scold mingyu because he wasn’t listening and we couldn’t make progress regarding the lyrics.” he explained, voice low and quiet, waiting for your usual giggles about his members being silly as always, but silence was your only reply. he looked down at you on his chest, seeing your eyes closed, mouth slightly open, a bit of drool coming out of it, right onto his shirt. “seriously? man, my shirt is gonna get soaked.” he sulked jokingly, knowing fully well you couldn’t hear him, otherwise it would’ve earned a betrayed whine from you. “you are lucky you’re cute, i will let it slide this time.” he giggled while trying his best to keep his voice down as much a possible. he rubbed your back while looking head over heels at you, easing you to dreamland even more so, whispering. “good night my love, see you in the morning. i love you.”

wonwoo knew you were tired the moment he saw you when he arrived at home, so he figured that it would be a matter of time when you were gonna stop fighting sleep and let your eyelids get heavy. he was editing the photos he took on his walk earlier, you snuggled up into his side, watching him do his magic in different editing softvers on his laptop. “these pictures are so pretty wonwoo.” you said sleepily. he smiled softly while looking into your eyes. “thank you sweetheart, but you are way prettier.” his cheesy line normally would’ve made you burst out laughing, but as he expected you were already half asleep, eyes closing for longer amounts of time every minute. a moment later he sensed how your head felt heavier on his torso; he kissed your forehead and patted the crown of your hair, smiling sheepishly to himself seeing you rest at last. “my sweet baby.” he said while shutting his laptop down, holding you closer to him.

“wow, the special effects are amazing!” you commented to which mingyu hummed in agreement. you and mingyu were watching a movie, your head in his lap. you were invested in the plot, but it was a bit late in the evening. in fact it was so late that mingyu had actually kind of dozed off for a few minutes, resting his eyes after hours of work with woozi in his studio, the screen’s hue taking a turn on his optic nerves. when he opened his eyes he did not expect to find you asleep, especially since you chose the movie; it was one of your favourite director’s new films. he took a moment to just stare at your face shamelessly, feeling like he was falling in love all over again; your cheeks were squished into his thigh, nose scrunching up from time to time thanks to a few strands of hair tickling it. you were just so adorable in his eyes. he brushed the hair out of your face, stroking your cheeks gently. “i am so lucky to have you. i will always protect you, my darling.” he muttered, draping a blanket that was resting on the couch next to him over your slumbering form.

you were in the practice room with vernon since he had to work overtime with their newest comeback approaching, you offering to stay until the end so the two of you could go home together. he knew you were exhausted from all the exams you had to take, and even tried to talk you out of staying, but you insisted, getting into a comfortable position on the floor, head resting against the wall. he sat down next to you, drinking a bottle of water while you put your head on his shoulder. “i should’ve urged you to go home. look at you, so tired and in an uncomfortable room!” he whined, feeling extremely guilty about the situation. you didn’t reply to which he raised his head a little, upon doing so seeing your relaxed face, soft snores and breaths escaping your mouth. he slowly lowered your head into his lap, but not before putting his hoodie on it, making up for the lack of a soft pillow. “i should take a break anyways. sweet dreams, babe.” he smiled, gently kissing your lips.

#wonijinjin #caratsland #seventeen #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #svt imagines #seventeen fluff #fluff #scoups #svt mingyu #mingyu #kim mingyu #seventeen mingyu #svt wonwoo #svt wonu #svt scoups #enhypen #svt seungcheol #seventeen seungcheol #seventeen scoups #seventeen wonwoo #jeon wonwoo #jeon wonu #wonu #wonwoo #svt vernon #seventeen vernon #vernon #choi hansol

[hidden-highlands]

hm. sometimes u cant succinctly summarise ur thoughts in a text post so u gotta ramble in the tags.

#rip if u don't like reading this shit but also. this is my online personal diary. deal with it. #spent so much of the night counting the moments until i could get back to playing xenoblade 3 without seeming rude about it #and i was being SO good! and SO normal! (as much as i could be) about it! #WHILE being SEVERELY sleep-deprived in an environment where i barely knew anyone which is already hard to do to begin with #(sleep deprivation makes me SO fucking mean i have realised btw) #but then molly suggested karaoke #which a) i love and b) i feel inclined to be social with my flatmates where i can bc i KNOW xb3 brainrot is making me SO antisocial #(sidenote: tonight molly told me 'i dont really. Get how you get so into video games but it's cool to see!' #and i told her to TELL ME if i get too obnoxious about it. because my flatmates are decidedly Not gamers #and she was like 'haha no it's ok ur fine!' and i immediately went 'no u haven't seen anything yet' #bc. i appreciate what she's saying but also. she's known me 3 months she doesn't KNOW how i GET with shit like this) #anyway. A Lot happened at karaoke that i immediately felt embarrassed about and THEN we went to ivy which. hhhhh #the last time i was there with mat and molly was VERY different and while im Over It that's also the Only association i have #of that particular club in that particular context #and basically i was having A Lot Of Emotions. #i ended up calling it only to come home to my other flatmate's girlfriend locked out bc '[he was just being silly]' #which i don't even have the capacity to deal with past letting her inside #but basically the tl;dr is that. What A Night (completely neutral) #i'm not even feeling Any particular Way about it. #it's more. i just have SO many emotions idk even know how to feel. #like when we were in ivy. even then i could recognise that i wasn't like. Attached to any one emotion that i was feeling. it wasn't my Mood #it's just that there were SO MANY of them in such quick succession that i didn't know how to feel at ALLLL so i couldn't rly. enjoy it. #also backflipping twink sidelined me for a dmc AGAIN. #this time it was about adhd meds. #he is very lovely and has gr8 eyeliner it's just so funny how he's now. a recurring npc in my life lol #god. a Lot happened tonight. and i don't have any particular Feelings about it there's just SO MUCH that i need to scream incoherently lol #urrrrgh i'll probably feel fine about this in the morning it's just. hhhhhhhhh #kiwi speaks