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loganlermanstanaccount · 1 year

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Rigor Mortis (part 4)

College roommate!Miguel O'Hara x reader

(AO3 Mirror) (Wattpad) Series Masterlist, Main Masterlist,

Part 3, Part 5

summary: You get your laptop fixed... eventually.

warnings: smut!! (finally lmfao) masturbation, mutual masturbation, tiny bit of voyeurism, recreational drug use, dry humping, etc 18+ Minors DNI

a/n: caught up to where the og oneshot ends so i wanted to switch it up!!

Thank you to my beta readers, @tianyhi and @urgonnaneedabiggership (they also write Miguel fics, I highly recommend! my favourite is this series), I couldn't have done it without you guys <3

Join my taglists here

wc: 6.8k (still in shock i wrote all this lmfao, i'm strictly a <4k words kinda gal)

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

lips black and blue and gold.

You're frustrated. Bouncing off the walls, head spinning; and it's for a couple of reasons.

First off: you haven't managed to find a laptop. Money you've worked damn hard for, and you can't really afford a new one. With moving around, you've burnt through quite a bit of your emergency fund. Enough to convince yourself you'll be just fine with a pen and paper in class, and the Google docs on your phone when desperate. It might actually force you to go to the library instead of half assing assignments the night before, you think.

And there's your lab book, which you were smart enough to back up on your computer, but guess what? That's fucked; probably taken apart and sold for scraps by Miguel's mysterious friend , who you've conveniently never even heard of and–

"Just ask for an extension." He says, feet up on the sofa. Oddly enough, you've been doing that more often; spending time together. He's not holed up in his room as much, and spends time studying on the dining table, or pretending not to watch the soaps you've got on TV.

"You're overthinking it. Explain the situation, chula, and it'll be fine." He doesn't even look up, just throws the statement in your direction like the lazy pass of a ball.

You scoff, because he's right, and go back to overthinking. You think you can copy out the ruined half of your labbook by hand, and if you beg your OChem teacher for an extra credit project then–

"If I let you use my laptop, will you stop doing that?"

"Doing what?" You frown as he walks over, and reaches to gently pull your hands apart. He turns your palms over, pointing at the raw edges of your fingernails.

" That. " Mindlessly, you'd been picking at your fingernails, without even noticing. Looking up at him, he rolls his eyes.

"...is that a yes?" You nod, hesitant, and catch the hint of a smile as he pads off to his room.

When he returns, open laptop in hand, he thrusts it into your arms - and sits himself back onto the sofa. This time, he splays out facing you, avocado socks resting on your knee. You fight the urge to push him off, a small price to pay in return for his moment of kindness. He's been doing that more often now, slightly more touchy and maybe even… comfortable around you. Eyes flickering up towards him, you catch his. His brows knead together, and you return your attention to the screen just as quickly.

You're going through the motions, more or less, logging into your college's portal and drafting up quick emails to send to your lecturers. But it's when you open up a new tab, that you see something at the top of the screen and pause. Mouse hovering over an incognito tab, hidden in a nest of referencing websites and scientific journals; it's there. Bold letters, in all caps: WOMAN POUNDED BY BIG BEEFY–

You shouldn't. You really, really shouldn't. Once again, you look up at Miguel, and he couldn't care less; tapping away at his phone, only stopping to look at the TV. Nevertheless, you shift to hide the laptop screen from him. But you're not going to look, or anything. You know better than to take a look at your roommates porn habits, the stuff he drools over whilst he fucks his fist; a big, dextrous palm wrapped around his shaft.

You've done it. Clicked on the tab and nothing's exploded, as of yet. You turn down the brightness, with some shame, as if to make the paused video less explicit. But the image stays, a woman folded under the weight of the man above – in the middle of bullying his fat cock into her pussy. It's amateur; hot and sweaty and sticky, with only the woman fully visible. You suppose your curiosity's been sated, but you can't help but think…

…the woman. She looks like you.

Tilting your head, you can't help but see the resemblance. Not the exact same of course - but her hair is similar, body type, skin tone, eyes. It's not close enough to be weird, you guess, but it's enough that that thought stays - burrows into you like an earthworm into an apple. Scrolling down, you see other videos, with the same woman, other women that look like you - the telltale red bar of watched videos. Evidence, but not really, and it makes you heat up. Your mouth goes dry, and you look over to him: only able to concentrate on the hand he's got spread out at his belly, the brown flesh peeking out - and how it looks just like the one on the base of the woman's stomach in the video.

"...everything ok?" He's looking at you, suddenly; and you attempt to click over to your original tab, discreetly.

He doesn't seem to notice, padding over to your side and leaning into your shoulder.

"Yeah, no, I just…" All you can manage is a nervous smile. "The screen froze, so…"

"Oh." He gives the track pad a swipe. "Seems fine to m–"

He freezes up slightly, and you watch as his eyes flick up the screen. The laptop is eased out of your hands, and he gives a few quick clicks. By the time it's back in your lap, the offending tab is gone. Imperceptible, his jaw shifts.

"...Should be okay now."

You hum, a little amused at the display. He's seemingly unfazed, his little slip up notwithstanding, and leans back to lie up against you. Obnoxious, he splays onto the sofa cushions, his weight practically smothering you as you fight to push him off. You think he likes it – it's the only possible explanation – and gets off from watching you squirm. He seems desperate for a reaction, a child pushing boundaries and pressing buttons to see what exactly makes you tick.

And that's the second thing: it works . He's more touchy, and just as insufferable – jumping at any excuse to be near you, it seems. Miguel has a tendency to hover, follow you around the apartment as you talk aimlessly, and you do the same. You sit by against the doorway to the kitchen whilst he makes dinner; he floats around the door to your room when you try to study. In fact, you've spoken to your roommate more in the past week than you have in the past month; about anything and everything. Sometimes, he actually tells you where he goes during the day; off to lectures of his own, another tutoring session or his basically-an-unpaid-job of an internship. In your words, it seems like with the shit they make him do at Alchemex, he may as well be a full employee: with way fewer perks and a distinct paycut. It's almost as if they're paying for my degree, he says with an eye roll, practically hanging off your door frame.

He does that a lot, now: arms drawn upwards to lean from the oak trim. Especially during lazy mornings in - he'll hang on the frame, and move to tug at your heel, waking you up despite fervent protest. Ultimately, it's a kindness and you don't know how to tell him how much you appreciate it; as he wakes you up on time to get to the library in good stead. You're still waiting on that laptop, debating whether or not to bite the bullet; but for now Miguel obliges, letting you borrow his now and then.

He's not nice, you think his tongue is much too sharp for that; but he is kind, giving you some grace you're not too sure you deserve. It's more than what you've been given in a relationship of 4 years, and you don't know how to feel about it.

Well, you do. Your talk on the living room floor not so long ago flipped a switch and all of a sudden you're paying attention to your roommate; really, really looking at him. He is very, very pretty; with a tendency for lingering touches disguised as something else. And you're out of practice: horny, frustrated, stressed. With the way he touches you; a hand on your back to greet you, a squeeze of your shoulder to tease, bare legs across yours on the sofa; it's a lethal combo.

And here you are, headphones on, prepping to take a dildo. Incredibly self-indulgent, but you need it . You don't quite have the emotional stability for a one night stand (you think if someone touches you just right, you'll fall in love), but this dry spell has taken its toll.

It wasn't just after the break up, either. Mismatched libidos had felt like a steady death knoll. Realistically, you knew Jaime was always too tired after a placement, but it didn't make you feel wanted. You just want to be desirable and fucked within an inch of your life – was that too much to ask?

As a result, your toy drawer had grown: vibrators and dildos, clit-suckers and g-spot strokers; crude once said aloud, but all in search of something. With the stress of school and Miguel, Schrodinger's slut ; it's a wonder you haven't cracked it open earlier.

You're on the floor, its purple base suctioned to the hardwood and towels to cushion your knees. Lower half completely exposed, it's an art , porn on your phone to complete the visage. The screen is smaller than that of the laptop you're used to, only providing some stimulation. And so, as you sink down on its silicone length, you can't help but think back to the sofa - and the videos squirrelled away on an incognito tab. Miguel, hunched over and fisting his cock to someone that looks like you; maybe even thinking of you – although the jury's still out, on that one.

But you keep it close to your chest, rub your clit to the thought of it: you're his type, and maybe he'd fuck into you like the man on your screen. Broad, gorgeous shoulders and you wonder how pretty he'd look with scratches littered down his back, or hickeys sucked into skin: lips plump and messy and swollen.

"Oh, fuck," You say it under your breath, knowing that whilst Miguel is out of the house, it still feels odd to put your lips around the pleasure that thinking of him gives.

You speed up, the slap of thighs ringing out into your bedroom. The dildo is around 6 inches, sizeable; but you can't help but wonder how it compares to Miguel's. He might even be bigger; thicker, most definitely; and you bet his cock is just as pretty as he is. Oh fuck, and he'd tease; press into your hole just to snatch it away at the last second, rubbing persistent circles at your clit. You hear his voice in your head, the low grunts and groans you've memorised from all those nights he's spent with other girls.

"Miguel," You're moaning shamelessly now. "...f-fuck, please–"

There must be something electric in the way he fucks: with the litany of girls in and out of his bedroom, what keeps them coming back? He must talk them through it, whispering filth with his plush lips against their ear, and you wonder what he'd say to you. God , you'd give anything to hear it him say, just once, how beautiful he thinks you are; for him to wrap his hand around your neck and pull you close. You want him to fuck you; hard and deep and desperate.

With that, your pace quickens and you gush around the toy. A spasm of limbs, and you're clamping down on the silicone – an orgasm that leaves you breathless and heaving. You convince yourself it's the taboo of it: fucking yourself to the thought of your roommate, after listening to his grunts and groans for the past couple weeks. He started it … thin walls, and all that.

You ignore the want that lays stubborn at the pit of your stomach, riding through stuttering spasms as your orgasm winds down. You're touch starved, that's all, and Miguel's the closest warm body to latch onto. Nothing more, nothing less. Groaning, you shift, picking up your hips to gear up for another round. Just once more, so you know for sure.

Thin walls. The sound leaks into your roommate's bedroom. But with your headphones on, you can't hear the sounds that echo back: Miguel O'Hara, back home early, with an ear pressed to the wall and desperately pumping his cock.

~~~

"I'm not completely convinced, to be honest." You're in Miguel's car, tongue sticking out as you fiddle around with the dials.

His gaze flicks over, and bats your paws off the dashboard. Flopping into your seat, you watch as he turns up the AC and switches the radio, as if reading your mind.

"You really think I'd go through all this trouble?" He scoffs. "Bundle your ass out of the house and drive all the way here to…. do what exactly?"

"Assert dominance in our shared ecosystem." You say it with finality, and he scrunches up his face in confusion.

"...what does that even mean?"

"Like in that nature doc you were watching the other day."

"Well, the point was that spiders aren't hierarchical in the traditional sense. They form colonies that are… quasi-social, if anything, and–" He pauses. "Wait. You were paying attention?"

You shrug. "I thought it was interesting."

"Seriously?"

"...no, not really."

You laugh as he pulls over to park, in a space next to what looks like an apartment complex. It looks way nicer than your place, with sandy brick and hedges that look well kept. Your laughter peters off. Miguel looks decidedly not amused.

He opens the car door and clambers out as you scramble for the seatbelt. To your surprise, he opens the door for you; stretching out a hand for stability as you get out. When you both walk over to the intercom, your palm burns with his touch, and flexes with the memory of it. It's becoming a problem, his hands. You push down the beginnings of a hazy daydream. He presses a panel, waiting for the buzz.

"Lyla? Could you let us up?"

He waves demurely to the camera, and the receiver clicks. A cheery voice rings back.

"...Us? Who's us, Miggy? Did you finally find a girl that puts up with your shit?" Her voice is singsong, teasing. With a smile, you watch as Miguel bristles, speaking into the slick panel.

"My roommate, Jesus, Ly–" He says the next bit a little rushed, turning away slightly as if you still can't hear her loud and clear. "I thought we went through this, you can't keep trying to embarassmeeverytimeI–"

She talks over him towards the end, rapid-fire banter that you can barely make out.

"You never come and visit, except when it's 2am and you need to break into–"

"Once! It was one time! Déjate, ya está bueno ya–"

[Let it go, that's enough now–]

"Let it go? No, no, absolutely not… what is it that you always say? It's the principle –"

"Can you just fucking open the–"

"What's the magic word?"

He sighs, mouthing an apology to you. "Lyla–"

"Magic. Word."

He mumbles. "Please."

"Please what?"

"Please could you open the fucking door."

There's a pause, and rustling over the intercom. The door buzzes open.

In the elevator up, you keep quiet, trying your hardest not to burst out laughing. Miguel is visibly brooding; arms crossed and brow furrowed.

"Don't." He says, with a pout you almost think is cute. Almost.

"I'm trying really, really hard not to." You put your hands up, as if to surrender. "... Miggy."

"Fuck off." And then, a little softer.

"...I told you I have friends."

~~~

You leave it at that until you're in Lyla'a apartment, when she opens and ushers you in. She looks exactly the way she sounds: pretty, mousy features, with her hair in short, choppy layers. She's bundled up into a plush white robe; heart-shaped sunglasses sliding down the tip of her nose.

Miguel breezes past her, towards the murmuring voices you can just about make out in the front room.

"Lovely to see you too, Miguel." It's under her breath, but when she turns towards you there's a twinkle in her eye.

You introduce yourself, and she pulls you into a tight hug.

"I know," She says. It's ominous, but her voice is light and airy. When you separate, she flashes a wide smile. "Lyla. It's nice to put a face to a name."

"Uhh, sorry. What?" She ushers you further into her apartment as you speak, confused.

"Oh, Miggy talks about you all the time. Complaining , mostly, but in that way he gets when he's trying really, really hard to pretend he doesn't care. Like, he texted me yesterday and–"

"Thaaat's enough." You feel hands on your shoulders, and all of a sudden, Miguel is steering you away from her grip. You stumble into her living room, so bright and airy your eyes have to adjust to the light that floods in. Looking around, her apartment is gorgeous; a spacious open plan, floor-to-ceiling windows with a prime view, and lush furniture. Everything about it screams expensive – especially in comparison to your paltry place. Maybe the shock is visible on your face, but you're in awe. She can't be much older than Miguel, right? She looks about the same age, mid-twenties, not too far-removed from college… and it isn't quite adding up.

"How can she afford this? That's what you're thinking." There's a voice on the sofa that makes you blink. A young man with messy brown hair, a set jaw and 5 o'clock shadow calls out to you in between mouthfuls of pizza. "Lyla's… mmhgh… suuper fuckin' rich… mmfgh… that's how."

It's then that you notice there are other people here, sprawled out on the sofa set; boxes of takeout on the side tables next to them. Of course Lyla's rich: only 20-somethings with money to spare have matching sofas.

She's like Beetlejuice, or the Candyman, and pops up next to you when her name's said.

"I work in tech! With a cute little job on Wall Street, and a part-time one white hat hacking." She clarifies. " Ethical hacking."

She giggles like she's told a joke somewhere, and you nod – still not quite understanding.

"...and some side gigs that aren't as ethical." A blond haired man next to Mouthful-Of-Pizza pipes up. "When are you going to introduce us, Miguel?"

He's grumbling in the kitchen area, digging through the shelves for something. He returns with a bag of chips and dip in a container, flopping onto the zebra print throw pillows. Distracted, he waves a hand around the group noncommittally.

"Uhh, Peter, Ben, Lyla." He gestures to you, saying your name, and then to himself; tearing open the bag at the same time. "-and Miguel. All done"

"My turn for questions, now," Miguel says, pointing at Lyla, looking at the boys to his side. "Is she…?"

"...super high? Most definitely." Lyla giggles at Ben's words, for good measure.

"...right. Peter Parker, nice to meet you." He throws a thumb to the back of the sofa, where you notice a little mop of red curls peeking out. "And this is my little Mayday."

Peals of laughter erupt from behind him, and you notice grubby hands with a death grip to the cushion rest. Miguel leaps up, rushing to her side to help her up its back.

"Ayyy dios mio." He scoops her up carefully, "Buenas, Arañita."

Mayday is on his lap now, a little toddler of about 1 or 2, snaking herself around to hug Miguel's chest. She is certifiably the cutest thing you've ever seen: gap-toothed and giggly, with a smatter of freckles like someone's flicked a paintbrush across her nose. And with the way Miguel melts, you can die happy, knowing that you've seen the impossible: Miguel O'Hara, cooing and fussing over the little girl.

"Arañita?" You ask, to no one in particular.

"Itsy-bitsy spider." . ..is the sing-song, choral response from everyone but Miguel. They're mimicking his tone of voice, and he raises his head from May, looking around.

"I don't sound- "

"You do, dude." Peter sighs, tickling the little red head on the tummy; smiling as she collapses into bright laughter. "I don't have a nickname, and I've known you waaay longer than she has."

Miguel covers her tiny little ears, and says, "Eres un pendejo, Parker . "

[you're a dipshit, Parker]

The scraggly man sticks his tongue out in response, and May pulls at his hair for good measure. He yelps, and Miguel passes her over to her Dad. The scene is funny, for sure, but you feel it's warmth more than anything. God, you can tell they've loved and laughed with each other for years; the kind of friendship you'd kill to have.

"We just need whatever's left of her laptop, Lyla," He's blunt, batting away long forgotten chips and dip. "...and then we'll get going. Wish I could stay longer, Arañita, but I've got some work to finish off."

May makes grabby hands at him, and you melt. Who knows how Miguel can stay strong in the face of her big, round eyes.

He gets up to stand next to you, arms crossed. The height difference is stark: his tall, solid frame towering over everyone else. It seems like an intimidation tactic, but you know him just well enough to tell: he's trying not to be swayed by puppy eyes and promises of food.

"You just got here, Miggy." Lyla sighs. "We're going over prep for Jess', and we'll be two minutes, I swear."

"Oh?" His eyebrows light up. "I knew it! You were being evasive on the group chat, and Pete wasn't returning my calls…"

Huffing, he clasps his hand around yours, ready to storm out. "This is an ambush. A goddamn setup!"

"Wait, Miguel, I need my-"

"I'll pick it up later for you, okay?" It's said like an aside, so soft only you can hear it. With his hand around yours, it certainly feels more intimate than it should. And it seems like he realises a little too late, dropping your hand as your faces are mere inches away.

"Um, we should… we should go."

You look past him to the faces blinking at you guys, on the sofa. A pause, and then you're gulping down stubborn feelings to ask a question.

"Jess' ? Is there a party, or something?"

Lyla nods. "Yeah, and Miguel's meant to be picking up cake."

The man in question pinches his nose. "I can pick up the cake just fine. It's the whole… going to a party bit I'm not too keen on."

"Come onnn, you know Jess would love it."

"She'd love to blackmail me with some dumb shit I did drunk, that's for sure."

"It's her birthday, hardass ." Peter whispers that last bit, covering little May's ears like before. "She can have a little blackmail, as a treat."

"You're gonna say no to a surprise party ?" Ben echoes, shaking his head dramatically.

"A surprise birthday?" You light up. "Miguel, you have to go."

His stony demeanor cracks, for a moment. You latch onto it, hellbent on wearing him down. He's always got his laptop out doing work, or cracking open a little notebook to prep a lab. When he's not at home, he's at that internship, or tutoring, or planning a tutoring session. Work, work, work; and you'll be dammed if you let him rot away in a little cage of his own machinations.

"Come on, Miggy." You watch him bristle, prying at that little crack in the surface. This has to be done with finesse: present a challenge, and watch him scramble to prove you wrong. "You're telling me a couple of hours at a party's too much for you? That's it? "

"That's not–"

"S'what it sounds like to me." You shrug, a little smile on your face. The aim is to look as smug as possible; and it seems to be working.

His jaw shifts, annoyed. Lyla catches on, giving you a crazed smile.

"Even your roommate's gonna come." She says, an arm linked in yours.

"I am?" She gives you a little dig, and you're spluttering. "Y-Yeah, I am!"

You can see him fight with his own ego; but it's a one-sided affair.

"Fine. " He strains. "Two hours, max. And then I'm gone."

Lyla gives you a squeeze, and then wraps you both up in a hug he desperately tries to fight off. Ben slots around you guys, and Peter's last to join, with Mayday squealing on his shoulders.

Eventually, you get what's left of your laptop: a little thumb drive with as much as Lyla could save. You'd thanked her profusely, of course; trying to slither out of her vice grip of a hug, as best you could. She's absolutely batshit, the good kind; cryptic, and strange, but with a lot of heart. She makes you wonder, and they all do; just how did they become friends with Miguel? How do they fit?

The man himself seems a little different, as if reinvigorated by being around friends. In fact, you catch him smiling to himself on the drive home. It's sweet; to see a different side of him around people he's clearly comfortable with. If only for a little while, he sheds the heavy weight he seems to carry around.

Around the house, you notice he seems lighter – humming to himself whilst cooking dinner. That very day, you watch the little sway of hips as he stirs a pot; headphones in, singing under his breath. He can't sing for shit, of course, and he'd kill you if you ever uttered a word; but it's a sight you commit to memory, not knowing when next he'll be in such a good mood.

There's still the question of a new laptop in the air, but you feel more settled by the events of the day. You're a little less fucked school-wise, you've got a party to look forward to, and potentially a drunk Miguel to make fun of. He goes to bed early; and you can hear the quiet drone of a podcast from the other side of the wall. He drifts off to the sweet, dulcet tones of Top Ten Genetic Precursors for Early Onset Dementia; one of his favourites, you've determined.

All is well, for now. A tentative truce, and maybe, just maybe: you're finally friends with your roommate.

~~~

There's something about dramatic irony that seems to smack you across the face, every time.

You've come to somewhat of a understanding with your prickly roommate, and the stream of women in his bed seem to slow down, for a bit. He's hot, he's a whore; but he's sweet, with an eye for detail. He can read you with a scary amount of accuracy. Antsy and hungry from a long day? He leaves you scratching your head at his clairvoyance when you come home, chucking you a hot water bottle and a warm meal. You go to bed with a full belly, cramps abated.

He's still a prick, of course. Sarcastic comments, and a massive grump – but you've learnt to deal with that. Just a couple of days after a seemingly settled week; what you can't wrap your head around is the pounding music from next door, at fuck-off-o'clock . He shouldn't be awake, let alone interrupting your late night study session.

You're pissed, leaping from your desk to pound at his door. You're thudding towards his room, ready to deliver a well-deserved verbal lashing, and the door just… swings open. Empty; there's a window ajar and music pumping from speakers. Bachata and cheesy 90s R&B; which sounds suspiciously like his sex playlist.

Yes, he has a sex playlist. And it really has no business to sound as good as it does.

Nevertheless, you're resolute. If he's managed to sneak someone, at this hour, you decide he's going to get more than a stern talking to.

There's clattering in the kitchen, and you whip around; half-expecting the giggle of another girl. When you walk in, it's just Miguel, rummaging through cupboards: a half-naked thief in the night.

"Miguel?"

He pops his head up from a cabinet, with a half-eaten piece of bread in his mouth. Caught red-handed, you suppose; and he gives you a little smile.

"S'everyfin' – mmmfggh –" He scarfs the rest of it down. "Everything okay?"

You squint. "No. Not really."

He chuckles, a slight rasp at the edges of his voice. Dickhead – what exactly is so funny?

"You can't have your music so fucking loud, not when I'm studying. It's the middle of the night and–"

Dressed in nothing but a pair of gray sweats, he's busying himself with a sandwich on the counter; clattering around noisily like he doesn't have full control of his limbs. Which is…. weird, admittedly. You'd trust Miguel to slice a grape with a machete – his dexterity is usually unmatched. Not that you'd made a habit of staring at his hands, or anything.

"Are you even listening to me?"

He nods, attempting to keep a straight face, but the faux solemnity does nothing to hide that droop of eyelids and slump of his shoulders. You get closer, pushing him to face you properly.

"Oh, fuck," His eyes are a little red, hair messy and windswept. "Are you… high? "

Miguel O'Hara? High? You'd never thought you'd live to see the day, honestly. His eyes go wide, dropping his sandwich dramatically. And then he's got a big hand at your shoulder, pulling you closer with a finger pressed to his lips.

"Shhh! You can't-" Now, he gets close, whispering your name like he's saying something he shouldn't. "You can't tell anyone."

With the way he says your name it makes you light-headed. It's slow and careful, as if he's testing the way it feels spilling from his lips. And maybe, with the way he smiles, it feels good; tastes sweet wrapped around his tongue.

"I won't." You breathe, and then you're both giggling.

There's something about the way he looks at you, peering under heavy lashes; basically eye-fucking you in the space of your tiny kitchen. You feel bare in a little t-shirt and sleep shorts; suddenly exposed.

"You should…" He starts, cocking his head ever so slightly. "Join me, chula. "

It's soft; sinful, even; said as he coaxes you between his body and the kitchen counter.

You don't trust your voice enough to answer, legs already shaky, so you nod. Slight, at first; and then with a little more gusto as the idea of him and you on his sheets – intimate, alone – creeps in. He stretches out a hand, and you take it; led to his bedroom like a scene you've seen before. All those girls before you; led to the dragon's lair like damsels in a fairytale. Except in this one, you suppose, you're not waiting for a knight in shining armour to save you.

He sits you down on the bed, passing you a freshly rolled blunt. Passing it to your lips , more specifically; hand on your chin as he brings the lighter up to its end. Even prettier up close, all you can do is watch the press of plump lips, and pink tongue sticking out as he concentrates. As he leans in, there's a hand on your bare thigh. You inhale, deeply, and he hums with content.

"Good girl," He purrs, prying it from your lips to take a slow drag.

"You're a bad influence." You murmur, watching as his eyes flutter shut.

"You need to relax," He leans back, arm drawn lazily upwards. "This is helping."

"That's not–" Oh. You feel it now, a steady haze rolling over limbs.

Miguel quirks up an eyebrow, amused.

You repeat, slowly, "You're a bad influence ."

"Does it feel good?" You pause, trying to ignore his low tone; and the steady blaze that it ignites within you. Dragging your eyes to meet his, you see it: want, lust, something heavy that swirls behind them.

You nod, itching for another pull. As if psychic, he gestures for you to come closer; and your lips almost slot against his. He exhales, and you inhale; in the closest thing you've come to a kiss in months. It makes you ache for just a little more contact, for those pretty hands to slot between your thighs and–

"Is this all I need to do for some quiet around here?" He asks, lilting. If only he'd stop talking; interrupting your fantasy with that stupid grin of his.

You're shaking your head, laughing at the sheer gall .

"You're fucking someone new every week, O'Hara. Loud. Who was it the other day? Cathy, Kayla –"

"Sita, actually." He has a strange expression on his face. "And we didn't fuck. Just going over lecture notes."

"Sorry . Must have gotten mixed up with the half-dozen other girls in and out of here. Our apartment's not a brothel , Miggy."

He rolls his eyes, handing you the remnants of the blunt.

"...s'not my fault there isn't anyone fucking you right."

You scoff. "How would you know?"

"Thin walls. " It's cryptic. What the fuck does that mean?

You take a careful drag, and hand the blunt back – trying your hardest not to strangle him. It must show on your face as you tussle with the thought, because Miguel is staring; unabashedly, unashamedly. When you notice, it throws you off.

"... what?" Ready to defend yourself, you huff.

He shrugs. His expression is soft, reminding you of that night, not long ago.

"You look like a painting."

You practically short circuit. You've been complimented before, of course. Hot, by men trying to get into your pants. Pretty, sometimes. Beautiful, the other times. Whether it's been sincere, you don't know – but you're smart enough to not overthink it. It's hard enough to live a life, as it is; and you'd rather not be bogged down by what others think, how you look whilst doing it. And yet, you feel your body betray you; a steady bloom of heat at your heart, like you've been stabbed. So deep, it spreads like blood on the front of a blouse. Like a painting, he says. And you like the way he says it; how it sounds spilling from his lips.

Its implication sits heavy. Like a painting : hand-crafted, silken, soft –

He blinks, the crack of a smile on his face. And it ends in a fit of giggling, if you can even call it that.

"Stop fucking with me." You grumble, and he thinks the way your face scrunches up with disdain is cute. There's probably an implication there he should unpack in therapy – how he likes it when you shout and put him in his place – but he's much too high to care.

"M'not-" He quiets down, flattens his face into something resembling sobriety and gravitas. He gets a little closer, so close you can feel the heat of his body and flutter of lashes. With wide, dilated pupils, he stills - and it really doesn't help that he looks so pretty.

"Can't stop thinking about you, hermosa." His voice is low, slurred with the weight of the blunt he's taken careful drags of. Every word makes you feel hazy, drawn in by his lips. " Fuck, all the time."

"Hear your laugh in my dreams, sometimes." He circles your bare thigh carefully, without breaking eye contact. With a thumb on your chin, he brings you closer, and closer still. Gently, you close your eyes, expecting the press of his lips against yours…

…instead, you get a puff of smoke for your troubles. Reeling, you push him away. He collapses on the bed in a laughing fit.

"... now I'm fucking with you." Rumbling laughter, and you've got the wherewithal to be embarrassed – hand still resting on his bare chest.

A little cruelly, you push down, giving him an elbow to the ribs for good measure and he splutters with surprise – laughing all the same.

"Asshole." You slur, and he grabs your arm to pull you onto the covers with him. You paw at him wildly, wrestling amongst the table of sheets. It's not a fair fight, not really; the wide expanse of his bare chest feels solid, and he's probably got more muscle in his pinky toe than you do in your whole body. Miguel is strong , but plays along regardless, pinning you to the bed with his hands around your wrists - but lets you turn him over just as quick. You're both laughing, the blunt long forgotten but its haze blurring the lines. You straddle his middle, hips flush against his and he keens; head back and cheeks flushed.

"Fuck," It's quiet, said as he writhes below you and you try to pin his hands above his head. Maybe it's the weed, but he lets you: eyes low, breath steady. And you stay like that, for a moment; bodies laid against one another.

You don't know who starts it: the slow roll of hips, the swell of his cock bucking up against your heat. Regardless, you welcome it, letting the heat build up with the pressure at your clit. Your hips sway and all Miguel can do is watch.

Lips parted, head back; and you set a steady rhythm that washes over you both.

Humping against one another, you get more desperate and drag your hands to his chest for purchase. Underneath you, Miguel practically purrs – one hand on your waist and the other clutching yours at his chest.

"So, so pretty…" He sighs into it, wide palm pawing at your ass, shamelessly grabbing handfuls. By now, he's rock hard; and you feel him throb through the thin material of his sweats.

"Fuck, I can't–" You moan, ragged, the roll of your hips gaining speed.

Miguel coos, bringing a hand to your chin to pull you closer to the crook of his neck.

"Too fast, hermosa. S-Slow it down for me." He grips your waist, forcing the pace to slow. Your hips stutter against his, delicious pressure making you cry out. And, God, you're close; pleasure building up at your gut.

"Ohhh, fuck. Just like that, just like–" It's soft, whispered between the press of bodies like a prayer: reverent, intimate, a slew of garbled English and Spanish into the shell of your ear that goes straight to your pussy.

"A-Ahi, ahi–"

[t-there, there–]

Plush lips brush against your cheek, and you try so hard to not float away - with only his words to keep you tethered.

"... no pares lo que sea que estes haciendo–ohh-fuck–"

[don't stop what you're doing, oh fuck–]

The coil at the base of your stomach snaps, and you arch into his touch as he does the same. Miguel spills into his sweats, heaving with the effort. He can feel the clench of your pussy above, and he chases it in the aftermath; craning his neck to finally get a kiss. Limbs heavy, you still manage to swerve so his kisses land at your jaw. He's grateful for the contact anyway it comes and sucks careful hickies into the skin: at your neck, your collarbone, and anywhere else he can reach.

You sink into it, curl up on his chest like a housecat; his hands wandering the gentle slope of your back under your shirt.

Limbs heavy, you pry yourself from his hands ever so slightly. He strains to follow you up, snapping back into the sheets like an elastic band. Still, he kneads at your flesh - bare thighs spilling from your shorts.

" Miguel," You whisper, hand travelling past his neck to cradle his jaw. "Need more…"

You punctuate that last word with a roll of your hips. Wanton, conflicted; he groans .

"It's late, chula. " He says it slowly, hesitant – like he can't believe the words are coming out of his mouth. He's still high, lost in the whispy remnants of that blunt. You've never known weed to make someone more responsible, and you flop to his side, a little childishly.

Miguel makes sure to keep a hand wrapped around your waist, dragging his other knuckles up your exposed tummy so that it rides up to the swell of your tits.

"And you've got that 9am."

You cover your face with the span of your hands, grumbling. From between the gaps in your fingers, you repeat,

" ...and I've got that 9am ."

He traces lazy circles in your flesh. Maybe it's the blunt, or the afterglow of an orgasm; but you make him laugh, a gentle ache replacing the creak and shudder of gears.

"Idiot." He says, kissing it into your skin. And he burns from the touch, fleeting; like the warm flame from paper lanterns, or the flicker of a lighter against cool night air.

Miguel taglist (1): @d1lf-loverrr, @afro-hispwriter @ilovemiguelohara @weedxgirlx420 @ladydovahkiin180 @aaliyuh3 @sweetanimebakery @vvitcxen @rosecoloredlenses708 @daikondal @magikmina @impettywhenyouare @alonelygirlsuicidenote @plushyplants @javi0ca @rheeves @starrfruit @nikirikii @marsbars09 @foxglove-grove @mimooyi @crosshairclown @dead-by-light @kynamitedessert @naarra @wanderlustingcastaway @sagejin @cookielovesbook-akie @tangerineloverrr @gobblegluckgluckgod @wolfiepirate @jxxey3 @ebrysteria @elliemm @manchuria @youngghostpeachslime @weasleybuns

@ilovemuppets @vauriz @bonbyon @aimno256 @ancientbeing10 @tvije @venus1224idkpleaze @neteyamsbulletwound @chickenjefferson-blog @maki-z @jasjasthings @aiyaaayei @hyp-oh-critical @tea-earl-grey-thot @sunset-euphoria @moonsio @akiras-key@szaplsdropthealbum@levanneisdumb @naiya-patel17 @Serostapesweat @strawberrymiguel @yumeeesss @errorundyne-exe @spear-bitch @redsoleily @marsissoswag @slezhara @ye4gerzz @adlct515 @nanam1 @indigocookie @cincocosas-blog @starguiders @path0logicalpeoplepleaser@funkyfishy@whoreloll@eugeab@tarjapearce@maddielikesmoths@egotaestical

#miguel o'hara x reader #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel o hara x reader #kat_writes😼#rigor mortis 😼#spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara smut #spiderman 2099 x reader #atsv x reader #atsv fic

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luveline · 10 months

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maybe miguel with shy spider girl who never holds eye contact with him and he calls her to is office alone for info and she’s just a mess? idk 😭😭

“Miguel wants to see you.”

You smile at Peter B. Parker. It is not a natural nor authentic smile. “Sorry,” you say, “what?”

“Miguel, the big guy! He wants to see you. You reported that weird bubble on 265, right?” Peter’s chewing on gum obnoxiously, seemingly unwise to your panic. Mayday giggles in his arms. “He wants your opinion.”

“I've never spoken to him.”

Peter laughs jovially as Mayday climbs up his front and almost topples down the back of him. “He's a nice guy, you'll like him. Hey, you want some gum?”

You take a stick of gum but don't chew it, the strip of Juicy Fruit powdering your fingers as you ride the elevator up to Miguel's laboratory. You barely know where it is, only that it's in a general direction of which you've never walked in. You haunt the dorms and the library rather than the workshops, content in your quiet life (as quiet as it can be, considering). Every step you take down the red lit hall to his lab is brimming with the want to turn back.

There's a platform set on the floor decorated by computers. You can't tell what's holographic and what's physical, but Miguel O'Hara is undeniably solid. His shoulders alone look thick as a tree trunk where he stands in the midst of it all.

You know it will be less painful to just… say hello. You put your Juicy Fruit in your pocket and clear your throat quietly.

“Mr. O'Hara?”

He waves his hand at you without looking. “Miguel is better. Come here.”

You struggle up onto his raised laboratory. Would it have hurt to build a step?

“Spider-Girl from earth 1421. Yes?”

“Y/N,” you say. “Yeah, that's me.”

He looks up at that, like your name is a curse word, or a surprise. You meet his eyes for as long as you're able to before your gaze crawls to his chest.

“And you saw the distension on 265?”

“Distension… um, you mean when the air looked like it was bubbling?”

“What were you doing when it started? Just give me a run down.”

You clasp your hands together tightly. You feel silly in your suit because somebody convinced you that it was okay to wear stuff on top, so now you're in this big silly hoodie while Miguel stands waiting in his officials. You'd always thought it was nanotechnology, but closer it seems more like a fabric with chameleon technology, or—

“What were you doing when it started?” he asks again, softer now. “You're not in trouble, I just need to get a sense of what happened.”

“I know, I– we were there to– to–” You wince. “To capture an anomaly, Doc Ock 83.” Your hands start to tremble, you're so nervous. “But we had a hard time finding him, he wasn't doing much, and the– bubble started not long after getting there.”

“Was it a precursor to anything? Did something significant happen after it began?”

“Um–” You can't think. What happened? You'd been standing on the street between the last reported sighting of the anomaly with your small team. You're a competent bunch but you only ever get called in for the weak guys, and you weren't sure what to do when things got weird. “I'm sorry, I don't know.” You peek at him, worried he's going to snap at you.

“Just take some time to think about it.”

He smiles —Miguel smiles at you, a juxtaposition to every rumour you've ever heard about him— and takes a step toward you, gesturing at your hoodie. You freeze up, worse when his fingertips point at the hem of it.

“Do you have your drone?”

You flush a hundred degrees hot and pull your hoodie up your chest to click the panel of your drone where it dents over your heart. It breaks free, flying up into the air above your head on automatic. Miguel grabs it out of the air and takes it over to his computer, where he syncs the sim and looks through your recordings. He isn't so cruel as to play them without permission, deferring back to you.

You raise your hand and tap the file.

It starts with you talking to yourself. “There's no… what alley was he…” You scrub forward to the middle of the video, just before the distension begins. “Hey, do you see that?” you ask your teammates.

Miguel leans forward. He's standing very, very close to you, and he talks quietly so as not to overcloud the sound on screen, “Here. Does this jog your memory?” he asks.

You look away from him again. But, now he's asked, and now you've seen it, there was something unfamiliar. “After it appeared, the anomaly changed. Doc Ock didn't look like himself. I thought I was seeing things, but here–” You rewind the video and point at the outline of Doc Ock against the bubble. “See? He's different. He looks paler.”

Miguel glares at the screen in concentration. Your comparison must impress him, though it doesn't solve the problem. “Alright,” he says as he copies the file from your drone. You summon it back to your heart. “The next time one of these is reported, I want you to come with me.”

“Oh. Why?”

“Because six people went to that dimension and only one of them flagged this. You have a sharp eye. When you deign to use them.”

You bring your gaze up in a rush, “I– I'm just nervous–”

“I know.” He smiles at you again, not at all the prey versus predator grin you'd imagined, but a more private smile as though you're sharing a joke. He looks at once like a normal man. Is he flirting with you? “Keep your communicator on, hm? I'll call for you.”

“Okay.” You don't know what to do, so you offer him a smile of your own. “See you then.”

He chuckles into himself as though he knows something you don't. “See you, nerviosa.”

You wouldn't need to know Spanish to know he's teasing you.

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jellojelli · 1 month

Text

Aventurine Boyfriend Headcanons

*a/n: I'll never not be salty that he's the only stoneheart I'm missing right now. I could've had the three available, but no, I took a break during his run time*

As always, 🛑Minors DNI🛑

SFW

Aventurine as a boyfriend can feel kind of hot and cold

everyday is different with him, and that can be very challenging. Will you get you're sweet Kakavasha? Or the cocky and arrogant Stoneheart?

Nobody knows. Not even him.

So if you really want this man you have to be paitent and willing to adapt and help him through his somewhat toxic behaviors. Because lets face it, they can be very toxic at times

This is because of his past and the insecurities they gave him when it came to dealing with other people. I mean, he was told when he was young that his worth was only 30 copper coins, and why would someone like you want to stay with someone like him? Especially with the brand he has on his neck

If you're willing to help him or at least just be there for him during his cold phases you'll have his heart forever. I mean that. Aventurine can be the biggest sap in the entire universe if you let him be

Not only can he be a sap, he's a big spoiler. Every credit he has is basically yours at this point

Constantly wiring money to you, bringing home gifts after missions, taking you shopping even though your closet couldn't possibly fit even one more thing, Aventurine does it all, no credit is wasted if it's for you

that being said, he enjoys giving you handmade things too. At first it was sort of like a test, see if you only like him for his money, but once he sees that you love the gift just as much or even more than the bought stuff his walls are crumbling and are in shambles

God forbid you make him something

It could be a little origami made from a gum wrapper and he keeps it on him like it's made of gold or soemthing

and if you make anything that requires a lot of effort, skill, and/or time? Aeons above help whoever he speaks to Ratio and Topaz

He will not, and i repeat, WILL NOT shut up about whatever you've made for him. And if he can bring it with? Yeah, it's another good luck charm no matter if it's a little cumbersome

They wish he'd stop talking and showing pictures of the same thing everyday

I see him as someone to keep a photo of you in his wallet. He goes on missions for a long time sometimes, and he can't always video call you, so the picture in his wallet will have to do

Don't get your hopes up that its something sappy and cute, its the ugliest sleeping photo of you you've ever seen. Hair in knots, drool, face smushed into the bed, and you're in the craziest pose you've ever seen

But he loves that photo the most and he will fight you for the right to keep it in his wallet so don't even try to replace it or take it away from him, you wouldn't win anyways

Don't even think about getting into danger around him or telling him about something stupid you want/have done. He will literally drag you back home and either prevent you from going, or scold you for having done the thing. and if you somehow manage to convince him to do the dangerous thing, he's coming with and shielding you up so much that it's not even a challenge for you anymore

Another thing, because he can sometimes try to push you away you both get into fights on ocassion. Don't take it to heart, he doesn't even mean anything he says, he just subconsiously thinks that you're going to leave him for someone he deems better i mean, you have been hanging around that doc recently....what if you like him more?

He's punching himself in the face though after every mean word he says, so don't even worry about him not feeling bad about the fight or his words, because he feels awful and stupid and he's damn near begging you not to leave him over it

Kakavasha just loves you too much....

NSFW

This man right here is nasty nasty bro

like one second he'll have you against the wall fucking into you like an animal and the next your face is pressed into the mattress as the entire bed shakes and slams against the wall rip your neighbors rest if you live in an apartment

He doesn't consider it a successful fuck unless you can't walk and can't remember anything other than his name, if you can still talk, you can give him another <3

This man is probably into everything under the sun and more

I'm talking toys, hair pulling, spitting, spanking, degrading, praise, if you can think it, he's probably into it tbh

Would he overstimulate you or edge you?

Both

he'd edge you until you're basically crying and then make you cum so much you think you're about to pass away

This man, this man right here, is a certified m u n c h

He'd eat you out breakfast, lunch, and dinner if you'd really let him

His favorite for giving oral is any position where he can keep you anchored right on his mouth so you can't squirm away

Don't even try it hon, he'll grip your hips so hard it bruises and pull you back, giving you a look like you just called him a bitch and slapped him

dear aeons above and below he loves using toys on you

any toy is good enough for him, no matter if you want him to use it on you, or if you want to use it on him

that's another thing, this man can dom and sub with ease. He has no issue doing either or both in a night, whatever it takes to get you to cum is on the table

Fuck/peg this man

he will wimper, he will whine, and he will be a brat the entire time you're pushing into him

And all those kinks he's into? That's not just one way. Every kink he'd do to you, you can do to him without question

Safe word is probably something dumb that he thought of at work instead of working... like IPC, or stonehearts...He's lame but it sure will snap either of you out of it

Aftercare king and you can't convince me otherwise

He knows he can go rough, and maybe just a tad over the top, so you're getting the princess/prince treatment after you guys have sex

Bath, water, food, all the softest clothing he's ever bought you, fresh silk sheets before you lay back down, a massage, you name it, he's on it

Pillow talk for sure, he just likes to hear you talk, doesn't have to be anything serious or thought out, you can literally just ask him if he'd still love you as a worm and he'd be happy to answer <3

It's no btw <3

Masterlist

#honkai star rail #hsr #hsr smut #aventurine smut #hsr aventurine

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j2lx · 2 years

Text

Arguing With Them (headcanons)

Warnings: angst to fluff, arguments (obviously lol), worrying about safety and overworking, insecurities, crying (a lot of crying), mentions of abuse in Sukuna's part and Naoya's part

A/n: I am so so sorry I went on hiatus without notice =( I just came back from my overseas vacation and I was so tired on the trip and when I just came home that I couldn't do much. I finally got the energy to finish this draft that was sitting in my docs for like a month so please do enjoy reading!

Characters: Itadori Yuuji, Fushiguro Megumi, Kugisaki Nobara, Gojo Satoru, Nanami Kento, Ryomen Sukuna (Sukuna has his own body in this but isn't in his OG form), Zenin Maki, Okkotsu Yuuta, Inumaki Toge, Suguru Geto (basically high school Geto, before he became all you know), Toji Fushiguro (he isn't broke in this fic just so it isn't as confusing), Naoya Zenin (he isn't misogynistic (for Fem!readers) cuz he loves you a lot!) x Gender Neutral!reader

Itadori Yuuji

You hardly argue with your boyfriend. You understand him, and he understands you. The two of you never argue much since you both are able to come to a mutual agreement. Both of you get along really well, and think in similar ways, so it's rare for things to escalate into a fight.

When it does though, it hurts the both of you a lot. Guilt tends to gnaw at you two, and you both start to feel bad for lashing out at each other instead of talking it out slowly. Yuuji would be the one who's more affected between the two of you. He won't even be able to sleep after arguing with you because of how bad he feels.

Most of the time, you argue because of your boyfriend's lack of concern for his own safety. He tends to put others before himself in all situations, putting him at risk of injuries and even death. While you understand that the both of you being Jujutsu sorcerers would mean risking your life at times, you just can't tolerate how your boyfriend seems to be unnecessarily throwing himself into situations that could kill him.

Yuuji, being the caring and kind person who makes sure to protect others more than himself, fails to understand where you're coming from when these arguments start. It's his job after all, and it's what he should be doing. He just doesn't understand why you are so concerned when you yourself have to do the same. He doesn't get why you say he's "going too far" and "basically almost dying on every mission".

He's always stubborn and defends himself during these arguments, telling you that he's already doing his best to protect himself. But when you start to walk away and cry, he'll start to reflect and more often than not, he does realise that what you're saying is true. He just gets into the heat of the moment during missions and ends up not thinking about ways he could protect himself better, all while getting the mission done.

When you start to walk away, he'll immediately chase after you and try to apologise to you. Most of the time, all you want to do is make up with your boyfriend and cuddle with him while he holds you close to him. However, if you ever decide that you need time alone instead, Yuuji will sit outside of your dorm, listening to the shuffling of your feet in the room, your soft cries and sniffles, waiting for you to open the door and let him in to comfort you when you feel ready enough.

Yes, arguments with your boyfriend might hurt, and it might be tough to get through to him most of the time, but when he sees how desperate, concerned and sad you are, he'll start to understand. He'll never let you stay mad at him after these arguments because he doesn't want to lose you over something that he should have realised that he was wrong about all along. Expect loads of cuddles and Yuuji being clingy to you after arguments! (Also lots of "I love you"s from him)

Fushiguro Megumi

Honestly, arguments with Megumi occur once in a while, but it hardly escalates into something really big. Megumi isn't always the best at understanding your feelings and trying to see where you're coming from, especially if it's about your safety. He's stubborn and stands his ground in arguments, which makes arguing with him a little… painful.

He tries his best to understand your point of view, really. But you're the most important person to him, and it's natural for him to want to protect you no matter what, right? When arguing with him, it always hurts you more than him, because sometimes it's like he's scolding you and not hearing you out. But after the argument, all the guilt hits him like a ton of bricks and he starts to feel really bad for just lashing out at you.

Arguments with him are the worst when he realises changes in your behaviour. You started to train and exercise a lot in your free time, which confused him. You didn't spend as much time with him anymore and he could tell that you were overworking yourself. When he confronted you about it, you refused to tell him about it and it pissed him off. You were so important to him, and he wanted the best for you, so why couldn't you open up and tell him?

He starts to lecture you about reasons you shouldn't overwork yourself and tells you, in a rather harsh way, that you should tell him what's going on. And the whole time, he doesn't pause to let you speak at all. He's just so worried and annoyed that he goes on and on. He starts getting blinded by his concern and anger that he forgets to listen to you, and even if he does, he tends not to process it before he says something again.

He only knows he's gone too far when you start tearing up, shouting above his voice that the only reason you were overworking yourself was so that you could match up to him, so that he wouldn't leave you behind. And when you run out of his dorm and hide in your own dorm, locking the door the moment you step in, he finally starts to process what you said.

He sits on the edge of his bed, processing everything you said. He feels the guilt of not hearing you out properly, and he knows he has to do something to make it up to you. He knows he isn't the best at expressing his emotions through his words, so he heads to the kitchen and starts to make a cup of your favourite hot drink for you, before heading to your dorm.

He always knocks on your door and asks if you can let him into your dorm. If you don't, he sets the drink down on a table in the common room and tells you to drink it before it gets cold, and then heads back to his dorm. But if you let him in, like you do more often than not, he'll set the drink on the table you have in your room and apologise to you, before asking if he can cuddle with you, which you always agree to.

Kugisaki Nobara

Arguments with her are actually pretty rare! Most of the time, the two of you just try your best to understand each other, and it works perfectly well. The two of you hardly meet a situation where both of you have really different opinions and disagree strongly with each other.

But when that does happen, it gets heated very quickly. One of you would start accusing the other person, while the other has no choice but to defend themselves to the best of their abilities. You both end up really mad at each other because you didn't really listen to each other's feelings and instead, started shouting accusations at each other.

Nobara really appreciates it when you spend time with her on your days off from missions and school. She often takes the initiative to ask you when you're free and then sets aside those few days just to spend time with you. So when you told her that you took up an urgent mission, even though there were other people to handle it, she was really annoyed and pissed off. You had promised three weeks ago that you'll spend time with her on that day, and yet you decided to go on a mission that any other Jujutsu sorcerers could handle instead.

She started out by asking you why you wanted to do that, and when you replied that it was so you could get promoted more quickly, she snapped. She had told you countless times that in the Jujutsu world, you'll forever want to aim higher and higher, and there was no end to it. And yet, you had taken up a mission on a day she specially put aside so that the two of you could go out together.

Accusations and screaming is all that can be heard when your arguments get that heated. She calls you a liar and you retort that she doesn't care about you. She says that she can't trust you anymore and you reply that if she believes that, it's fine by you. It's just her attacking you with her words and you just trying to defend yourself. Eventually, it gets too frustrating for Nobara and she just walks out of your dorm, slamming the door behind her.

In the end, you go on your mission. But on the way there, you start reflecting, and realise that you were in the wrong to begin with. And truth to be told, you don't know how to make it up to your girlfriend. You know that she's always looking forward to these kinds of days, days that she can spend with you, having fun and just hanging out together. And yet, you decided to ruin it all and make her angry by breaking a promise.

When you get back to Jujutsu High, you knock on Nobara's dorm room. You hear a muffled "go away", so you just leave, giving her the space she needs. You head out again to buy her something you know she'll like, and then leave it outside her dorm room when you return. And when she finds the gift outside of her door, with an apology letter, she goes to look for you immediately so that the two of you can make up and cuddle in her dorm after that.

Satoru Gojo

You get into arguments with him mostly because of what he's doing. Be it annoying and teasing you too much, or being too reckless, it's always because he gets too cocky and negligent of himself that the two of you end up arguing. It doesn't happen often, since he listens to your scoldings when you try to tell him to stop being annoying or reckless.

And on the occasion that the argument does escalate, it's always him trying to defend his own actions by giving you random excuses. And if that doesn't piss you off enough, he never gives you the space to cool down after arguments. He'll cling to you, because "the argument is over" and he clearly thinks that it's fine to stick close to you when you clearly need your own space.

It's the worst when you get into arguments with him over his safety. His only excuses are that he's "the strongest" and since he "hasn't died yet, you don't have to worry". And while you don't disagree that he's the strongest, and know full well that he won't bite the dust that easily, you just can't help but worry. Yes, Satoru understands you like no other, the only thing he'll never comprehend is your worry for his safety.

Maybe it's because he's just that confident in his own abilities, or he just doesn't deem it necessary for you to worry over him when he promised that he'll return home to you no matter what. Regardless, he's stubborn when these kinds of arguments happen, more so than usual. He'll pick on everything you say, use things he's said in the past, just do absolutely anything to win the argument when that's not exactly the point. In the heat of the moment, he always forgets that it's you worrying about him, that you're scared for him. And instead of trying to reassure and comfort you, he starts to defend his own actions.

You're always the one to step back from the arguments and head to your shared bedroom to just have some space for yourself. However, your boyfriend takes that as a cue that all's well and good, and that you're on good terms with him again. He'll knock on the bedroom door, and no matter what your response is to that, he'll enter the room and start clinging to you, hugging and kissing you when all you really want is time away from him. He only gets that when you tell him to leave and shove him away from you.

He'll give you all the time in the world after that, just so that you can calm down as much as possible. And instead of distracting himself from the sadness of being pushed away, he sits outside the bedroom door, listening to every sound you make. He has to will himself not to burst into the room when he hears your quiet sobs, and just curls up into a ball, hoping that you'll calm down soon.

And when you finally let him into the room, your eyes red and puffy, he'll pull you into a hug while apologising for how unreasonable and annoying he was. He spends the rest of the day cuddling with you and being at your every command. He would do everything and anything, literally anything, just to cheer you up and make you feel better.

Nanami Kento

Arguments with him are super duper rare. He really tries his best to understand your feelings and will never lash out, even if you're being unreasonable sometimes. He's able to reason with you very well, so the two of you hardly get into arguments if there's ever something that's bothering either of you.

That doesn't mean that there are no arguments at all. Of course, when arguments do happen, Kento tries to let you understand his side of the story and hears you out no matter what. But when it does escalate, he knows when to end the argument and give you some space. There will be raised voices and even shouting, but at some point, he knows that it's not going to help solve anything and gives you the space to calm down.

The worst argument you had with him was over him being "obsessed" with hunting down a curse. You heard of this unregistered special grade curse with a patchwork face, and you knew just how dangerous it was to track it down. But you knew that your boyfriend was trying to help out and protect people from this curse by finding it and exorcising it.

Even so, you couldn't really understand why he had to work so hard to hunt it down, even working overtime on most days just to get information and track the curse's location. It wasn't just that he was spending less time with you, he was risking his own life and safety by trying to accomplish his mission. And you drew the line at that. You couldn't lose Kento. So you confronted him about it one evening after he came back from working overtime yet again.

It started out fine, just you telling him to give it up, or at least not work so hard over this matter. You expected him to understand, to listen to you, but you were wrong. He started to tell you about the mission, why it was important, why he had to do his best to search for it even if it meant that he had to work overtime. And that just leads to you shouting at him, telling him how neglected and scared you feel. And he starts to raise his voice too, saying that you don't understand how important his work is, even though you're a Jujutsu sorcerer too. Both of your voices fill your shared apartment, just pointless screaming that isn't helping either of you to come to a consensus.

After a while, Kento calms down and approaches you slowly, wiping away the tears that flowed down your cheeks without you even noticing. He goes to the kitchen and hands you a cup of water before going to your shared bedroom, giving you some space and leaving you alone in the living room to think about what happened.

He always waits for you to calm down fully and look for him. The last thing he wants is for him to cause you to feel more upset by approaching you while you're still mad at him. Rest assured though, after you go to look for him, he'll apologise very sincerely and do whatever you want to do with him. Expect lots of cuddles and kisses, and even a date later in the week!

Ryomen Sukuna

Arguments with your boyfriend are not exactly common, but they do happen more than should. He's not the best with emotions, but he's really trying his best to understand your point of view. He knows that he needs to start being gentler and more sympathetic, and he's really working on it.

But more often than not, arguments with him do escalate quite badly. He's stubborn, and most of the time he forgets that communication is a two way thing. It's not that he's shutting you out on purpose, he just doesn't register that he needs to let you voice out your opinions so that he can hear you out.

Most of the time, arguments occur because of how overprotective your boyfriend becomes when you talk to another guy. You've told him before that men have taken advantage of you before, gained your trust before throwing you around and using you for their own cruel plans. And whenever Sukuna sees someone being nice to you, he panics. He doesn't think that they're genuinely trying to be nice to you. Instead, his brain thinks of the worst case scenario and immediately his body acts to protect you in case they do anything to you.

It wasn't the first time Sukuna had to meet a male colleague of yours. Considering that you both were Jujutsu sorcerers, most of your colleagues were his as well, and he slowly managed to warm up to them without feeling the need to protect you from them, because he trusts them enough. But when he met your new make colleague who was going to be your mentee, he kind of lost it. Your boyfriend immediately glared at him when he tried to help you carry some documents back to the office, scaring your mentee.

When you got back to your shared apartment, you confronted Sukuna about his actions. To you, it was just plain unreasonable that he had scared someone innocent and who had done nothing to harm you. Your boyfriend got frustrated that you couldn't see it from his point of view and told you to just let him protect you so that no one else would take advantage of you. And while you could see where he was coming from, you couldn't tolerate the fact that he was going around intimidating people who were innocent and had no plan to abuse you like the people you encountered in the past. So you shoved him away and told him to leave you alone as you left the apartment and went to stay over at Shoko's place for the night.

The next morning, you were greeted by your mentee the moment you got to the campus of Jujutsu High. He shared about how Sukuna had apologised to him for scaring him, and had warned him not to take advantage of you, which he assured you he had no intention of doing. Upon hearing that your stubborn and somewhat unapologetic boyfriend actually apologised to someone who wasn't you, you couldn't help but feel a little touched and decided to find him after work to make up with him.

You managed to catch up to him as he was leaving the campus and immediately reached to grab his arm, stopping him in his tracks. You wrapped your arms around his torso and pressed your face into his chest, apologising for being irrational the previous night, and thanking him for looking out for you. He smiled before picking you up in his arms and pressing a kiss on your forehead, whispering an apology as well. He put you down gently and you both walked hand in hand, ready to go back home together.

Maki Zenin

You and Maki have arguments, yes, but they hardly occur. The two of you prefer to sit down and talk about it calmly instead of lashing out at each other, since talking it out makes the both of you more comfortable with sharing your views and helps make the atmosphere less tense.

During the extremely heated and intense arguments, that are few and far between, it becomes much more difficult for the both of you to take a step back and it usually ends up in the two of you ignoring each other for a while.

It's not uncommon to see Maki work out and train in her free time, considering that she wants to work hard to get promoted and just get stronger in general. Anyone who knows her would know that she works out almost everyday during her break time, and you're used to that too. In fact, you do enjoy joining in with her, or just watching your girlfriend while she trains.

But sometimes, it gets a little too much. It's not that you want to be the kind of clingy s/o, nor do you want to disrupt Maki's training regime and deprive her of the time she has to work out, but it's been bad to the extent that she only has time to eat and sleep outside of classes, missions, training and working out. Due to it being the season where more curses appear, all of you at Jujutsu High have been assigned more missions and life has been busier than usual. You would've thought that with the number of missions she was assigned, your girlfriend wouldn't have the time or energy to work out when she got a break (if she got any), but she clearly proved you wrong.

You decided to talk to her about it one day. It wasn't just about the way she spent her time, but also about her health and sleep schedule. You were more worried than anything, and you just wanted to make sure that she was alright and safe. Maybe it was the stress from all the missions, or it could've been the weather, but for whatever reason, Maki was more pissed than usual when you tried to talk to her. You explained the situation calmly and yet she could only snap that you wouldn't understand. And when you tried again to ask her about how she was feeling, she said that she was fine in a deadpanned voice. You got frustrated and ended up shouting at her, which led her to shout at you too. After she made her point she turned to leave and didn't talk to you for the next few days.

Even after the whole argument, you still wanted to look out for your girlfriend as much as possible. That led you to going to the teachers and requesting for them to give Maki fewer missions, just so she wouldn't push herself too hard on a daily basis. And little did you know that a certain blindfolded teacher mentioned it to your girlfriend in passing one day during training.

As a result, you were shocked to see Maki outside your dorm room on a weekend morning, considering that she usually went for jogs at that time. She explained that Gojo has told her about what you did, and apologised for being mean to you. You did the same, admitting that it was probably not right for you to disturb her when she was in the middle of getting ready for a mission. You invited her to spend the rest of the day with you, and the two of you let the rare time you had away from missions and training pass while spending time catching up with each other.

Okkotsu Yuuta

Arguments with Yuuta almost never occur, just because you two get along really well and never actually had a good reason to get into an argument. You two are like relationship goals, being able to understand each other's emotions and adapting the needs of the other party.

Even when things escalate, it never goes to the point of leaving a permanent, unforgettable scar on either of you. The two of you are both very emotional, and neither of you can bear to see the other person crying. So your arguments never escalate beyond a certain point, because you just can't stand to see each other hurt because of what had been said.

The only time you've had a super heated argument with Yuuta was when he finished his training overseas and was going to come back. Despite the fact that he kept telling you that he was going to return home to you soon, the date kept being pushed back. It was a full two weeks since the initial date he was supposed to come back home, and yet he was still overseas because of the missions he had to take up at the last minute.

You were slowly becoming more and more impatient. It's been months since you've seen your boyfriend, and the time you've spent apart just gets longer by the day. Did he not care about you anymore? It started to seem that way. You were normally an understanding person, and you knew how hard your boyfriend had it, considering he was a special grade sorcerer. But if you had to spend just another week away from him, you knew you would break. You decided to call Yuuta, just to let him know that you needed him back as soon as possible.

The call didn't go as you expected at all. You started by telling Yuuta how much you love him, and that you really can't do it anymore. That you can't spend any more time without him by your side. And Yuuta, with guilt laced in his voice, told you that he had to stay for six more days because of the appearance of a special grade curse. And that's when you broke. With tears trickling down your cheeks, you asked him if he even loved you anymore in a shaky voice, before hanging up on him and going to sleep, hugging the plush toy he bought for your birthday to comfort yourself.

You didn't hear from Yuuta the day after that and resigned yourself to the fate that you wouldn't see him until a week later. The last thing you expected was to hear a knock on your door the first thing in the morning, and for your boyfriend to be standing on the other side of the door, his bags and luggage still with him. He handed you a small bouquet of flowers with a small teddy bear on it and hugged you to his chest tightly. You could hear the tremble in his voice as he whispered apologies in your ear, and you pulled away from the hug to give him a peck on the lips.

After he placed his baggage in his dorm room and took a shower, he headed straight for your room to cuddle with you. The two of you talked things out, apologised to each other and started to plan for what to do if he got sent on a long trip again. Needless to say, you both spent the rest of the day in each other's arms, kissing and cuddling to your heart's content.

Inumaki Toge

You and Toge never had an argument before, as weird as it sounds. Of course Toge is a prankster and he loves teasing and flustering you, but he never goes overboard and never causes you discomfort of any sort. The two of you just never had anything to argue over, and you were thankful for that.

Well, that held true until… that happened. That's when you learnt what arguments with your boyfriend were like. And it wasn't even a normal argument. It was a horrible and scarring experience for the both of you. You just shut him out and Toge basically couldn't defend himself because you were ignoring him.

It all started when a new second year student transferred from Kyoto Jujutsu High to Tokyo. They were randomly assigned a buddy from the second years in Tokyo and it just so happened to be your boyfriend, Toge. At first, you were happy for him. Because of his cursed speech, it was difficult for him to make new friends and you had a feeling that this buddying experience would help him gain a new friend.

The warm feeling of happiness slowly turned to bitter envy when your boyfriend's buddy started to cling to him more. They basically spent the whole day together, and the only time they weren't together was during bedtime. From training to doing homework together, Toge's schedule suddenly became dedicated to them. And despite knowing that Toge loved you and only you, jealousy washed upon you and you couldn't help but feel more and more insecure by the day.

It got so bad that eventually, you couldn't even bring yourself to get out of your dorm room, unless it was for classes or training. You didn't want to see his buddy clinging to him, and your boyfriend paying them the attention they were seeking. You decided that you had enough one night, and took your phone from the bedside table and sent a message to Toge that said, "I hope you and your buddy are getting along, because it certainly seems so. If you don't want to be with me anymore, you know you can just tell me right?" And with that, you switched your phone off and tried your best to go to sleep.

You didn't leave your room for the entire day the next day and tried to distract yourself from hunger by reading the books you had. However, by the time it was evening, you were so hungry and desperate for food that you had no choice but to leave your room. And when you opened your door, you saw a lunchbox tied to the door handle on the other side. Without even opening it up, you knew it was from your boyfriend.

You immediately went to his dorm and knocked on the door. It took less than 10 seconds for the door to open and for him to pull you into a tight hug. Toge then dragged you into his room gently, and gestured for you to sit on his lap after he settled onto the edge of his bed. He placed a small kiss on your nose and muttered, "S…Sorry." You instantly felt your heart soften; hearing your boyfriend speak words other than onigiri ingredients was something that rarely occurred. You apologised before cupping his cheek and kissing him roughly on the lips, the kiss conveying all the emotions and love you felt for each other.

Suguru Geto

Yes, arguments do happen but they don't last long nor are they super intense. No seriously, your boyfriend is one of the most compassionate and sympathetic people you've ever met, so it's not often that he can't understand how you feel.

But when he truly fails to see where you're coming from, either because he thinks that what he's saying is more justifiable, or because he thinks that you're overacting, then the argument does escalate into something more heated than usual. He'll still hear you out, but he's likely going to continue to defend himself.

With a boyfriend who's a special grade sorcerer, it's only normal for you to have to spend time away from Suguru at times. It could be because of long missions overseas or just emotional distance because he can't spend much time with you. No matter what, he always makes it up to you after all his missions and assignments and spends lots of time with you.

Maybe it's because you never really showed strong opposition to Suguru going on more and more missions. You knew it had to happen, considering he was one of the four special grade sorcerers and that he was needed by the Jujutsu world considering his strength. But recently, your boyfriend started taking up more missions volunteeringly. And considering that he had never done that before, it felt weird to you… almost like he was trying to distance himself on purpose, which you were pretty sure wasn't the case. Nonetheless, you decided to talk to your boyfriend about it. You wanted to make sure that he wasn't pushing himself too hard unnecessarily, and that he wasn't being pressured into taking on these missions.

When you finally got down to confronting your boyfriend about the issue, he merely shrugged it off and said that it had to be done. He didn't really seem to acknowledge the concern you were showing him, which frustrated you and led you to snap at him, telling him about how he just doesn't seem to care about you or anything you do for him anymore. He then snapped back, saying that if you cared so much, you'd just leave him alone.

He instantly regretted his words, and even more so when he saw the tears welling up in your eyes. He muttered a quick "sorry" before he walked towards the door and prepared to leave your shared apartment to give you some space, like he always does after arguing with you. But instead of letting him leave as you would usually do, you pulled the hem of his shirt and whispered, "Stay. Please."

And stay he did. Your boyfriend sat down on the couch before pulling you onto his lap, comforting you by stroking your hair and whispering sweet nothings to you, all while you stuffed your face into his chest, letting his smell calm you down. After you calmed down enough to look at him, he kissed you all over your face and offered to make you your favourite dish for dinner that night, which of course you couldn't say no to. And you both knew that after you talked things out during dinner, everything would be alright again.

Toji Fushiguro

There was hardly any reason to get into arguments with Toji. He protected you, took good care of you and most importantly, showered you with love and made you feel so happy just by being with him. However, that doesn't mean that your relationship is always smooth sailing.

Arguments with him always escalate, but that's mainly because they hardly occur and your boyfriend doesn't really know how to deal with it. All his life, he's needed to fend for himself, so it's only natural for him to do the same during arguments with you.

You recently introduced Toji to a job. You used to work as a cashier in a bookstore and after contacting your previous colleague, who was now the manager, about job openings, they told you that there was an opening that just so happened to fit Toji perfectly. The job scope was mostly helping with organising the books in the bookstore, which your boyfriend definitely could do considering his strength and height.

Everything was going really well and he even got commended on his performance at work. Of course, you were really happy for him because he finally had a job and could earn money to support the both of you and the family he wanted to build with you. But that happiness was short lived after you realised that he started betting with his earnings like he did in the past. You couldn't help but feel a little bit betrayed because you thought he would know better than to go back to doing things like that, especially after learning how hard it was to earn money again. But old habits die hard, and you knew you had to stop it before it was too late.

You got Toji to sit with you and talk about how his job was going, before you slowly approached the topic of him betting his earnings. When you did reach that point, you asked him why continued to do it, as gently as you could so as to not make him feel attacked. But when he said that he was merely enjoying life and only betting a small amount each time, something in you snapped. It wasn't that you didn't want Toji to do what he liked to do, but you just couldn't accept that he forgot all about the future and saving money to start a family together. And so you lash out. You tell him that you suddenly feel alone in working towards having a better life and a family together, all while he tries to tell you that he was trying his luck to maybe win big and let you rest instead of working.

Somehow, that managed to make you soften up and as much as you wanted to stand your ground, you couldn't help but walk up to your boyfriend and press a kiss on his cheek. The mere fact that he was doing it so that there was a chance that if he won, he would let you rest and not have to work yourself so hard made you feel touched by his way of thinking.

Toji mumbled an apology, telling you that he didn't know you wouldn't approve of what he was doing and you could feel a wave of guilt wash upon you. You had never set any guidelines on how he should spend his money and you felt bad for making him apologise for doing something he liked with the money he earned himself. You muttered an apology as well, before pressing your lips against his to convey all the feelings you can't put into words.

Naoya Zenin

Arguments with him are the worst. The very very worst. They don't happen very often, but they always escalate quickly because he just lashes out and says everything he wants to say without letting you say anything, frustrating you in the process.

Almost every argument you have with him will escalate, and he just doesn't get that he should listen to you. He doesn't think that your insecurities might be bugging you, which is why the argument even starts. He doesn't stop to process that you're probably feeling really extreme emotions, that you're just desperate for some kind of affirmation and comfort from him. He doesn't realise that he should be gentle with you, instead of arguing with you.

Naoya doesn't spend much time away from you, he knows full well that if he does, your fears and insecurities would probably get the better of you. However, when he starts to do it subconsciously, you can't help but want some form of reassurance that he isn't doing it on purpose. It's your fear that he's still in contact with the Zen'in clan, the very people who abused you for months on end, the people he saved you from.

When you go to him, asking him about why he hasn't been spending as much time with you, he gets frustrated. He doesn't realise that he never told you about all the extra missions he's been taking on to save up more money to surprise you with a vacation for your birthday. He doesn't realise that you're scared, scared that he's going to turn against you and exploit you because you think he's spending time with the clan members, planning to bring you back to them.

And he just lashes out. He doesn't even give you time to explain yourself, he just starts telling you to learn to take care of yourself, to stop relying on him, to stop being "clingy and whiny". He doesn't stop shouting at you, saying that you don't understand why he's even doing all this. And it's true that you don't, because he never told you. He just gets so frustrated that he just continues yelling at you, until you can't hold it back anymore. You just break down in tears and run to your shared bedroom, slamming the door behind you.

Only then does he realise that he's taken it too far. The image of your tear-stricken face gets stuck in his mind, and he starts to feel really remorseful. He remembers you telling him that if he leaves you for too long, you get scared that he's leaving you. And yet that never crossed his mind when he was lashing out.

He goes to the bedroom, and knocks on the door asking if he can enter. And you never answer, too caught up in all your negative thoughts to process that he's trying to reach out to you. He always enters as quietly as possible, so it always catches you off guard. And when he sees how you look at him, your eyes shining with fear and sadness, looking at him like he's one of the clan members who abused you, he tears up too, because he never meant to hurt you that much. He grabs the blanket from the bed and wraps it around you snuggly, pulling you to his chest and letting you sob with him while he mutters apologies over and over again.

I think I went… a little crazy considering the length of this. I was honestly very tempted to make this into a hcs + short fic post and if this gets enough comments or asks requesting for a short fic part, I probably will do it =) Hope you enjoyed reading!

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lvis44 · 1 month

Text

Sweet Escape - Wedding Pt. 2 // LH44

Lewis Hamilton x Y/N

Warnings: Language, Alcohol Consumption, Angst, Anxiety

Word Count: 5.4k

Summary: Paradise is supposed to be fun and relaxing... a Sweet Escape, but when unspoken feelings and jealousy rise to the surface, everything can be turned upside down in the blink of an eye.

Notes: The second part of our wedding... I was reading my doc and figured this part was solid enough to be put into the universe lol. More to come but, once again, I do not know the timeline. I hope this holds you guys enjoy and this holds you over in the meantime! *insert Lil Wayne - Sorry 4 The Wait - here*. I've said it a million times and I will say it a million more, I cannot get my brain to stay in one tense while writing so ignore it the best you can lol. I LOVE YOU GUYS!

I am not a professional writer and all of this is a work of fiction and is strictly for fun. Enjoy! xxx

Previous Sections: Prologue - Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight - Epilogue - The Wedding Pt.1

You’re not sure how long you’ve been staring at the dark ceiling when you hear your phone start to vibrate on the side table, causing you to groan. Just because your nerves are keeping you awake doesn’t mean you want to talk to anyone. When you see his name flash across your screen your first reaction is to laugh at his insistence but quickly anxiety washes over you. Every possible thing that could be wrong flashing through your mind as you answer his call.

“Lew?” You croak out, your voice dry in your throat.

“Hey. Shit, I didn’t wake you did I? Just needed to hear your voice and this can’t possibly count as me seeing you before the wedding.” He’s quiet on the other end, probably trying not to wake Miles in the other room.

“No, can’t sleep.” You admit. You’ve thought a few times throughout the night that you should have given in and let him hold you tonight, knowing you more than likely already would have fallen asleep.

“Neither can I, my nerves are going crazy.” He sounds vulnerable and you can’t help but worry.

“Not backing out on me, are you?” You attempt to joke, even though the anxiety is real.

“What? No, baby, never.” He laughs at the absurdity of your question, making you feel that much better, “No, I’m just stressing over the whole thing. Thinking maybe we should have just run away and eloped.”

“We still can.” You giggle, knowing he’s joking but understanding the feeling.

He joins you in your laughter before falling silent. You know he’s too deep in his own thoughts so you let him settle on what he wants to say.

“I’m just worried something will go wrong like the catering will be shit or the decorations won’t be right. I don’t know, I just need it to be perfect for you. Perfect for us.” He finally shares, his voice is tired.

“Lew, the only thing that could possibly ruin tomorrow is if for some reason we legally can’t get married. Even if we end up in a courthouse, I’m ending the day as your wife. Everything else is just an excuse for us to throw a kick ass party.” You try your best to assure him.

His laugh comes through the phone before he lets out a sigh, “You’re right, nothing else matters. This is why I’m marrying you ya’ know.”

“Why? Because I would have said yes even if you proposed with a ring pop?” You tease him, your smile spreading across your face.

“Well that,” He laughs, “but also because with two sentences from you, I’ve felt calmer than I’ve felt since the second I got here to the hotel. You always manage to make everything seem okay and truth be told as long as I have you, it is.”

His words hit you deep, knowing how much he means them.

“You know you’re supposed to save the vows for later, right?” You joke, trying not to choke up, knowing if you’re too sincere with him right now you will end up in tears.

“I love you Y/N.” He says simply, aware you're trying not to get too emotional.

“I love you Lewis. You wanna stay on the phone?” It’s something you’ve done many times while he’s been away and the distance has gotten to be too much. You barely talk, just content in the sound of each other's breathing and the rustle of the others sheets.

“If you don’t mind?” He sounds nervous again, like he feels like he’s asking too much of you.

“Always. Good night Lew, I love you.” You say quietly, settling back into your bed.

“I love you baby.”

You don’t say another word, both falling asleep quickly after your chat. The comfort of each other being all you needed to truly relax.

* * *

Charlotte's soft voice ringing through the room is the first thing you hear as you try to adjust to being awake. The second you start to come into yourself, the nerves come flooding in.

“You didn’t hear a word I just said, did you?” Charlotte is laughing as you sit up in bed. Your phone is still sitting on top of the comforter next to you, the call now having ended. You can only assume Lewis is already awake and getting ready or his phone died. You can’t help but smile at the memory of your conversation last night, both of you needing a moment of solace within the other.

“What?” You ask groggily, attempting to wipe the sleep from your eyes.

“Well, to start I said Good Morning Ms. Soon to be Hamilton,” She started, her voice much too loud before realizing and quieting right down, “then I told you that hair and makeup are on their way to the venue and the car will be here in about an hour.”

You raised your eyebrows at her as she sat down on the bed.

“I know, I should have woken you up earlier but I heard you talking in here at almost three in the morning, I assume with Lewis, and I wanted you to get some sleep,” She explains softly, putting her hand up to stop you as you go to respond, “there’s a light breakfast here if you want some, but you have plenty of time to shower and grab some food. If you don’t eat now, I’ve already scheduled some food for you at the venue that you can eat while they're doing your hair before you get your makeup done.”

You let out a sigh, thankful that she has thought ahead, you go to thank her but she starts again.

“I’ve already confirmed with four different people at the venue that your dress is there, hair and makeup has a place to set up, your room is on the other side of the building from Lewis so you won’t run into him, and all of the decorations have arrived and are being set up. The only thing you have to do today is let us take care of you, know that Miles and I have everything under control, and get married!” She finishes her spiel with a smirk, knowing that everything she just covered were concerns running through your mind, always proving even further why she was your Maid of Honor.

“Thank you, you are an absolute angel.” You say as you grab her hand.

“I do have to ask, just being nosy,” She starts, laughing gently, “was it Lewis on the phone last night?”

You feel yourself blushing unnecessarily, there being no reason to be embarrassed for talking to the man you are about to marry.

“Yeah, neither of us could sleep, just needed to talk to each other for a second.” You say sheepishly.

“And that right there is why you two are getting married today baby!” She says enthusiastically, once again much louder than you would prefer for the time of day.

“I’m gonna take a shower,” You tell her as you push yourself out of bed, feeling your stomach growl, “food will be there for me?”

She laughs at your need to double check before nodding, “Yes there will, I heard that, you need some food.”

“Leave me alone.” You grumble, laughing softly to yourself too as you stumble to the bathroom.

“You’ve got an hour, let me know if you need anything.” You hear her yell as she makes her way out of your bedroom to let you shower in peace.

It feels like you’ve entered an alternate universe once you are out of the shower. You ended up taking longer than anticipated and were being rushed to get dressed before ushered downstairs and into the back of another town car. Charlotte had a small bag packed for you and said she would take care of your luggage that was still in the room after the wedding, keeping the suite for the bridal party to stay in after the event.

Your jaw almost dropped when the car finally pulled into the venue. You had been there before, a few times actually, over the last two summer breaks with Lewis, trying to finally decide. But now… now it was snowing, a winter wonderland surrounding the manor that had been deemed a castle by almost everyone around you and you couldn’t help but agree. A castle had been a dream of yours as a kid but never something you found realistic as an adult, safe to say realistic wasn’t in Lewis’ vocabulary when it came to your wedding. You had been watching Downton Abbey for the third time one night and made an offhand joke to Lewis about how you should get married at Highclere Castle, from then on he had made it his mission to find something that fit the bill. His first thought had been the castle itself but it hadn’t been an option, instead he found a place just outside of London that you had never heard of, something your wedding planner had never even seen, it was perfect. It was large and regal but still fit with both of your styles, allowing it to be decorated with a fine line of modernity and tradition.

When you pulled up to the front door it looked as though you had stepped into a movie, the snow painting the perfect backdrop despite your hesitance. You hadn’t been sure about a winter wedding but Lewis was impatient and winter was his favorite season. He had done so much of what you had dreamed of that you couldn’t help but agree, knowing it didn’t matter when or where you got married, as long as it ended with him.

Charlotte was quickly ushering you and your mother inside and out of the cold. The entrance was bustling with people moving flower arrangements, chairs, tables, everything you had asked for being set up right in front of your eyes. Charlotte was pulling you down the hallway to your left before you had a chance to even take it all in.

“I’m sorry, I know I’m rushing around but you can relax the second we get you into the bridal suite. I promise.” She was apologizing from in front of you while you tried to keep up with her brisk pace, your mom close behind you.

“Are we late?” You couldn’t help but ask, feeling nervous all over again.

“No , we’re perfectly on time, but the damn men are early and I will be damned if Lewis wins and sees you before you’re at the altar.” Her voice is serious and you can’t help but laugh out loud. It truly isn’t that big of a deal to you but the moment you mentioned it being part of the plan Charlotte and Miles made it their top priority for the day of the wedding.

“It’s really not that big of a deal.” You continue to laugh at Charlotte as she slows down once you’ve reached the doors of the suite. Secretly you wouldn’t mind a quick hello, or even just a glimpse at his beautiful face, but she was determined.

“It’s part of the plan therefore we will be sticking to it, everything will be exactly how you want it today.” Her voice is stern before she opens the door to the suite and welcomes you in.

You’re immediately welcomed by the crew you had hired to take care of everyones hair and makeup. You had spent a while choosing the perfect team and had been in touch with them frequently over the last few months and the familiar faces made you excited. Charlotte tells you to take a seat on the plush couch off to the side and makes her way over to talk with the crew, making sure everything is taken care of for you. Your mom comes to join you on the couch, mimosas in hand with a shocked look on her face, acting as if she doesn’t know where they came from. You giggle as you happily take one from her hand while someone sets food on the small table in front of you, immediately reminding you of how hungry you were back at the hotel.

“You should have something to eat, even if it’s just a nibble. You have some time before you need to start getting ready.” Your mom tells you softly, gesturing towards the spread sitting in front of you.

You nod, leaning forward to grab a pastry as you watch Charlotte in amusement, animated as ever while she gets everyone and everything organized. You take a moment to sit in silence, well as silent as it can be with people bustling about, letting yourself take it all in. You continue to eat as much as you feel you can keep down before someone is suggesting you get in your robe. When you come back from the changing room there are many more people in the room, everyone finally arrived and ready to get ready. You had decided to keep the wedding parties small on both sides. You had Charlotte as your maid of honor, your cousin who had become a sister to you over the years, and your childhood best friend. Miles was Lewis’ best man, Nicolas, and Daniel. Your mom was getting ready with you as well as Linda, Carmen and Lewis’ sisters.

As you sat in the chair watching your hair transform, joking and laughing with your stylist Javier, you took in the sight around you through the mirror. Both families and friends blending into one big happy group, laughing together and sharing mimosas. You were thrilled at the thought of everyone becoming one large family, beyond excited for the next chapter of your life.

“Ladies! I need to say something before everyone starts with their makeup,” Charlottes voice commanded the room getting everyone's attention, “thank you! Okay, I just need to start by saying Y/N, I love you so much and I am so beyond thrilled that you are marrying my second best friend,” she sends you a wink as you both laugh with Lewis not even in the room to defend his decade long friendship, “he is like a brother to me and you very quickly became my little sister. That being said, I want to stress to every one that today is supposed to be perfect and WE are going to make sure it is,” her words are firm as she gestures around the room to your bridesmaids, “these two mean the absolute world to me and after everything it took to get them to this point I will not settle for ‘okay’, we’re looking for perfection.”

“Char, it’s-” You try to stop her, feeling like she’s making far too big a deal out of your day.

“Nope, Y/N, let me say this, you deserve it.” She shushes you before continuing, “I want everyone to have an absolute blast but most importantly I NEED Y/N and Lewis to have the best day of their lives. Annoying guest? Figure it out. Issue with the rings? Find me or Miles. Trouble with your dress? Suck it up, today isn’t about us.” Her voice is that of a strict teacher as she lectures your family and friends and you can’t help but roll your eyes and laugh before the comment about the rings latches on to your brain, “Y/N, babe, I love you so much and I am so happy for you. You are marrying the best human I know, well second to you of course, and I cannot wait to see the life that you two create together, I know it will be magical. Cheers everybody!”

You barely even register the sweet words she directs at you as she finishes her speech, your body working on auto pilot to raise you mimosa for her toast. The moment she sees the look on your face she’s rushing over to you.

“Hon, what’s wrong? You look worried.”

“What’s wrong with the rings? They’re here, right? They look correct? Nothing’s broken? You said there’s a problem with the rings, what's the problem?” You rush out your new concerns, not taking a moment to think once she’s in front of you.

“What? No, no, everything’s fine. Why would there be a problem with the rings?” She asks you confused for a moment before the realization dawns on her face, “Oh sweetie that was just an example, everything is totally fine. It’s exactly like we talked about, I have your band and Miles has Lewis’, I even texted him when we got here to make sure he had it. Do you want to see yours? I have it in my bag, I can go grab it.” Her words of reassurance are rushed as she tries to calm the new anxiety fluttering through your mind.

“No, oh my god, sorry, I just…” You shake your head, wanting to laugh at yourself for becoming so panicked so quickly, “I think my brain just blacked out after I heard ‘issue with the rings’, I don’t know why I let that freak me out so much.”

“It’s okay, you have a lot going on and this is a big deal, don’t worry about it, it’s what I’m here for.” Charlotte calms you, rubbing your forearm as she squats in front of your chair.

“Alright beautiful bride! Ready to make that gorgeous face even better?” Javier’s voice comes excitedly from behind you, rubbing your shoulders as he tries to coax you to turn around so he can start on your makeup.

You take a deep breath, the reality of the day settling into the pit of your stomach, before turning around, ready to be transformed. You’ve had him do this look on you numerous times, wanting to make sure it was exactly what you wanted and you trust his skills, but still the underlying anxiety refuses to leave you. You had opted for a more natural look, similar to what you would do on the day to day but elevated, you wanted to look like yourself, like the you that Lewis fell in love with. As you sat in the chair being pampered, listening to people bustle around behind you, a billion new scary thoughts and anxieties swarmed through your head.

You know you’re making the right choice, there is no one in the universe better made for you than Lewis and no one who you could love or love you more than him. You know everything is taken care of and planned to your liking, but you didn’t place each flower or taste every dish prepared today. You know all of the most important people in your life RSVP’d yes, but you haven’t laid eyes on them today, you don’t know if they’ve arrived on time. Every single detail that has been a stress in the back of your mind for the last year has now become the only thing you can think about. You’re trying so hard to let them slip to the background, to stay in the moment, enjoy the laughter of your bridal party and the random chatter from Javier, but it doesn’t work.

Your mom is the first to notice, seeing you with a furrowed brow and your eyes shut tight as Javier steps away to grab something.

“Sweetie, what’s wrong?” She asks quietly, her hand resting on your shoulder, giving it a tight squeeze.

The sound of her voice almost brings you to tears and you can’t quite explain why. You look at her through the mirror, noticing the deep concern on her face.

“Everyone wants it to be so perfect, what if it isn’t? I asked everyone to travel so far and what if it lets them down. The Hamilton wedding is supposed to be THE event, what if it’s not right or something goes wrong or it isn’t what people were expecting?” You ramble so quietly you’re worried she won’t be able to hear you.

“Oh, my sweet girl,” She says through a pout, wrapping her arms around your shoulders and meeting you cheek to cheek, “not an ounce of what you just said matters, I know you’re nervous but don’t stress yourself. Today is supposed to be one of the best days of your life, not because of how fancy it is or what caterer you hired, but because you are marrying a man that will love you, protect you, and take care of you for the rest of your life. I know that it feels like it’s all about the party and the flair, but today you are taking a step for you and Lewis and that is all that matters, you are building your life with an amazing man who would move mountains for you and that is all that matters. All you have to worry about is making it to the end of the aisle, saying I Do, and kissing your husband. We’re all just lucky that we get to witness it.”

“Fuck,” you breathe out with a dry laugh, “you’re right. It’s just so much.”

“Just keep reminding yourself that that beautiful man is going to be legally yours till death do you part.” She laughs before kissing your cheek, lightening your mood as you picture his perfect face. While her words do ease your nerves a new very important thought pops into your head, a new non-negotiable.

“Charlotte.” You call out urgently, aware of your time crunch.

“I’m here, what do you need?” She asks quickly, rushing to your side like a lady in wait.

“Lewis,” You start, watching as her eyebrows shoot up in a disapproving look, “no I know, I won’t look at him or let him look at me, I just need to squeeze his hand and hear his voice, I promise.”

She still doesn’t look quite convinced as you plead with her, “Y/N, no seeing Lewis was a very hard rule from day one of wedding planning. Are you sure?”

“Char, please, figure out a way so I don’t see him, we’ll stick to the rules but he’s been there to calm me down and make sure I’m okay for every major thing in my life for a more than half a decade and I don’t know about you but I’d say this is a pretty major thing! It won’t be any worse than me talking to him last night, I swear.” You plead with her, grabbing her hands, suddenly very set on needing to at least speak to Lewis before walking down the aisle.

“Okay, okay, yes, I will make it happen, but before you get into your dress, just in case, gimme a sec.” She agrees as her face softens, seeing your desperation, realizing that she too would need Lewis for a moment before something this big. He may be your lover, your fiance, the man you are about to spend the rest of your life with, but at the core he is your best friend, the man that has been there for you since you showed up at game night years ago, your other half.

Charlotte quickly leaves the room after squeezing your hand and telling Javier he can start working again. You assume she’s headed to find Miles, or she’s gone straight to Lewis. You start to get anxious yet again that you may be causing Lewis anxiety, you should have told her to tell him that you’re fine and just being selfish, remembering the moment of fear you had last night when he had called you.

You’re not sure how long it takes her but once your makeup is finished she has returned and is requesting for you to follow her. You feel silly walking out of the suite with pinned hair and your robe on but all you can think about is talking to Lewis, eager to hear his voice as if you’ve just started dating. Charlotte ushers you down a hallway to an empty room with a door on the other side. You’re far enough away from everyone that the noise has quieted and you can subsequently feel your brain calming down, realizing just how overstimulated you’ve been for the last few hours. Charlotte guides you to the far wall of the room, next to the door frame, turning you to back up against it before gently knocking on the door. It takes only a second for the door to open, Miles’ smiling face appearing next to you.

“Well hello beauty, you look fucking incredible.” He says before leaning in to kiss your cheek.

“It’s not fair that I don’t get to see her.” You hear your fiance whine from the other side of the wall, making you giggle and your cheeks warm.

“All in due time brother, you’re the lucky one though, you get to see her at the altar.” Miles says teasingly, leaning back through the door to look at Lewis before coming back to you, “So I have your fiance here as requested. Char and I will give you guys some privacy.”

“Thank you Miles, I’m sorry if this is a pain, I just needed a minute.” You tell him, reaching out to squeeze his arm.

Before he can respond, Miles is bursting out into a laugh, “Love, this was a help on my end, mans has been so annoyed that he hasn’t been allowed to see you all day, he hasn’t shut up about you once. Enjoy, you evidently both need it.” He says as his laughter begins to die down, sending a disapproving look into the room behind you where you assume Lewis is giving him the same back. “You guys have five minutes, and absolutely no peeking.”

“We won’t.” You and Lewis both promise in unison, making both of you giggle as Charlotte and Miles walk away to another room to give you your privacy.

“I mean it!” Miles turns around to yell, still walking backwards as he points his finger at you, “ I will know just by the look on bruvs face if he caught a glimpse of you, don’t you dare.”

“We’ll be good, I promise. Thank you guys!” You yell back at him as they disappear through a nearby door.

“Hey you.” You hear Lewis’ soft voice after a moment, your heart swelling just upon hearing the recognizable timbre.

“Hi.” You squeak, forgetting everything you had wanted to say when you asked Charlotte to make this happen.

“Are you okay?” He asks you, his voice filled with concern and care.

“Yes, oh my god yes,” You start, your anxiety of concerning him coming back tenfold, “I’m so sorry, I just, I don’t know, I was getting really anxious and then I realized that I haven’t had a big moment in life without you either being right there or calling me for like more than five years and then I got worried that I wouldn’t make it through something like this without talking to you first, which is silly because I know I’m literally preparing myself to marry you, like I’m going to see you at the altar in like an hour but I don’t know, my mom said all this stuff about how amazing you are trying to calm my nerves and then I realized I absolutely had to at least talk to you and I’m sorry if you were busy, I’m not trying to be needy, you just calm me and this day is so much and there's so much going on and it has to be perfect and-” Your words are rushed, not thinking them through as you ramble to him, not stopping to even take a breath.

“Y/N,” Lewis cuts you off, his voice firm but gentle, “it’s okay, please take a breath.”

You drop your head, almost embarrassed by how calm he sounds with the emotions swirling around in your head at the moment. You listen to his request and take a deep breath, trying to calm your breathing and your mind.

“Good, now another.” He instructs you calmly as you feel his hand sneak around the door frame and brush your hip.

The moment you see his skin you reach down and grasp his hand firmly, needing him to ground you as you take yet another deep breath.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper as you squeeze his hand, trying to breathe like he wants you to.

“Baby, you have nothing to be sorry for,” He starts softly, squeezing your hand just as firmly, “I know this whole thing is a lot and there’s so much going on, but none of that is important. I don’t give a fuck how anything goes as long as I get to end the night married to you, that’s all that matters today,” His voice is soft as he assures you, washing over you like a warm blanket before it turns cheeky as he adds, “well I also want to see you in that dress and obviously whatever you have underneath it.”

You want to laugh and cry at the same time, amused by how easily a stupid (yet serious) comment could lift your spirits, simply because it came from him. Amazed that the same sentiment that has been spoken to you by everyone around you with no avail, could take a burden off your chest simply because they came from his mouth.

“I love you so much Lew.” You reply, squeezing his hand so hard you’re worried you’ll hurt him, trying to fight back tears as you do.

“I love you so much my sweet girl and I will tell you just how much when you meet me at the altar. You’ve changed my life, you’ve made me a better man, a better human, you’ve made me happier than I knew was even possible and I want nothing more than to marry you today. I don’t care how that happens, if you want to run away right now and head to vegas we can, at the end of the day I just want you. You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me and nothing matters besides us. This whole castle could burn down right now and as long as I still had you I truly would not care. I love you so much and today is going to be incredible no matter what happens, but I bet you nothing will go wrong because we planned it and we’re pretty amazing.” He sealed his words with a kiss to the back of your hand, chuckling as he finished. His lips on your skin gave you a whole new sense of confidence and ignited a fire in the pit of your stomach.

You wished so badly that you could see him, that you could properly kiss him, but you reminded yourself that you were close to the finish line, that he would be all yours soon.

“I love you too, so so much, thank you for this, I’m sorry if I interrupted, I just needed to hear your voice and be close to you.” You admit to him with a sigh as you lean back against the wall.

“You’re never an interruption, whenever you need me I’m here, always. Besides, Miles wasn’t lying, I’ve been going crazy since we left the rehearsal dinner wanting to see you, touch you, kiss you, talk to you, literally anything. I know we’ve gone weeks apart from each other but everything feels different right now.” He tells you, making you smile, that you're not completely alone in your desperation. You take a moment, leaning against the wall in silence as you hold his hand, letting your nerves wash away.

“Alright, love birds! Time to go get fancy and hit the altar!” Miles’ voice cuts through your moment as he hollers and claps, returning to the room.

You let out a sigh, wishing your moment with Lewis could continue but reluctantly begin to move away from the wall. Before you can get too far, he is gripping your hand and pulling you back to place a kiss on your hand before leaving a lingering kiss on your pulse point.

“I love you Y/N, just come meet me at the altar. Nothing else matters.” His words are muttered into the skin of your wrist before he finally lets you go and Charlotte is ushering you away back to your suite as Miles stands guard making sure Lewis doesn’t cheat and sneak a peek at you.

“Feeling better?” Char asks as you make your way down the hall.

“So much better, I feel perfect.” You say through a smile, meaning it wholeheartedly, “ I’M GETTING MARRIED!”

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rlqfpdl · 6 months

Text

All I want is you

Apollo!Fem!reader x Jason Grace

Summary: You can’t help but admire Jason. Not knowing he’s doing the same.

Contains: fluff. Characters might seem a bit ooc.

A/N: I noticed the lack of Jason fics so hope you all enjoy this one. I had such fun writing it. Feedback is always welcomed and reqs are open <3

Word count: 1.1k

His skin seemed to glow perfectly, his eyes sparkled with the sun. His perfect silky blonde hair was a bit messy, like he had just woken up. Gods, it was flawless, like gold. His slightly tilted glasses made him look cuter than when he didn't have them on. If you didn't know any better, you would say you're enamored, captivated, charmed, enchan…

“Stop staring, you're drooling,” Will said, pointing towards the corner of his lip and casually continuing to eat his breakfast. You brought your finger towards your lip to confirm. How embarrassing, you thought. “I wasn't staring. I don't know what I could ever be staring at,'' you defended, avoiding Will's gaze. Suddenly, your plate was really interesting as you fiddled around with some pancakes. Smooth, gaslight your brother into thinking he's the crazy one.

“Sure lover girl, let's pretend you weren't ogling at Mr. Sparky over there,” Will just knew how to push your buttons. Both of you being top healers meant you knew each other better than the rest of your siblings. Sadly, that also meant he knew your weaknesses all too well like a certain blonde he kept talking about.

“He's way out of my league” you rebutted. You didn't give yourself enough credit. Most would assume you were a daughter of Aphrodite if it weren't for the distinct freckles and soft glow that every Apollo kid seems to have.

“Yeah well, he likes you back. you guys just need to be a little less shy” he stated as if it were a fact. But it wasn't, well, at least not for you. Jason was just too handsome. Sure, the Aphrodite boys were too, and so were some of the Hermes boys, but Jason was just different in your eyes. It wasn't only about looks; it was his caring personality and how nice he could be. Not that it was a surprise, but considering he is the son of Jupiter you would have thought he would be a little more conceited.

”You know, you keep saying that, but I don't see it. Plus I can't think of crushes right now; we have to prepare the infirmary.” both you and Will know that deep down, you wanted to believe that Jason liked you back but were always ‘too busy’ to talk about your feelings.

Especially on capture the flag days, You weren't one to participate; fighting isn't your thing. You were half decent with a bow but just awful at playing, landing you with the amazing job of nursing everyone back to health. You would think people knew better than to slash each other to almost death, knowing that their desert privilege was on the line. But that never seemed to stop anyone from creating more work for the Apollo cabin.

You sighed as you prepared some of the beds in the infirmary, having gauzes and ambrosia ready at your disposal. Singing softly as you worked, maybe you weren't blessed with amazing archery skills or astonishing arts abilities, but you had other skills in your favor. Like your voice and talent with the lyre. Most of the camp would agree that you were the best singer from the Apollo cabin, often leading the sing-alongs at the campfires or just singing sweet children's songs to the little ones at camp.

Caught up in your singing and folding of sheets, you didn't hear the conch being blown or the screaming campers celebrating their victory or announcing their complaints over losing. So, to say you almost had a heart attack when you heard a soft voice call your name was truly an understatement.

“Gods Austin you scared me,” you said, looking at your brother as he smiled softly, “Sorry you just have a patient ready for you, doc,” he said, smirking slightly as he was up to something. “I'll attend some; tell Will to take care of the rest” You turned around, not looking at your now creepily smiling brother. You started putting a little tray on one of the beds . Austin continued talking, “Oh but there is this camper who has specially requested for you,” he said as he dragged said camper towards you. “Okay well bring them up; i don't have time to attend everybody,” your voice started to faint as you looked up towards this oh so special camper that requested you.

“I can come back at another time if you're too busy,” he said sheepishly, scratching the back of his head with rosy cheeks, he was embarrassed. But now you sported matching red cheeks as you looked at him intensely in awe of his presence. “No, you fine Jason please sit” you gestured towards the bed. “I got nicked with a sword; it's not that bad” he explained, tilting his head, his voice was ringing in your ears like a charm.

“Can i touch your face” you mumbled as you began to study the small gash he had from afar. “Sure,” Jason stuttered a bit, his face getting a little bit redder. You softly touched his jaw, further inspecting his injury. “Well, it's not deep enough for ambrosia or nectar, but it's still kind of deep,” you stated grabbing a cotton ball with a pair of tweezers “I’m just going to clean it up and heal it ,” you said, your voice shaking a bit. Jason could only muster a hum as you placed a tiny amount of alcohol into his wound. He winced at the sting, but it didn't seem to bother him that much, especially with how gently you touched his face.

Both of you fell into an uncomfortable silence, not knowing what to say, faces a bit too close to each other, entering in panic mode. Yet Jason built up enough courage as he whispered a faint “Your voice is so beautiful.” You couldn't help but look into his blue eyes, eternally getting lost in those precious sky-blue irises. Your faces got closer slowly, instinctively, as if it was the only way to respond. Trying to wrap your head around the boy's words truly left you speechless. But life decided to ruin this perfect moment as you heard someone speak.

“I need some help with some Ares kids,” Will said standing there, clearly seeing he had interrupted something. “Right,” you responded brushing off nonexistent dust from your camp shirt and looking back at Jason. “Your wound should feel better now, let me know if it doesn't,” you said, all giddy at the thought of him coming back. He just nodded shyly, trying to say anything as you walked closer to Will but ultimately stayed silent.

“Your voice is so beautiful, marry me Y/N” mocked Will as both of you walked towards the other side of the infirmary, punching his stomach, “Shut up” you whispered. Gods, Jason Grace might just be the death of you.

#percy jackon and the olympians #hero’s of olympus #jason grace #fanfic #ria fics #jason grace x reader #jason grace x you #will solace #apollo!reader #apollo cabin #jason grace fluff #tooth rotting fluff

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orgasming-caterpillar · 3 months

Text

And It's Too Cold//It's Too Cold

Songfic Based On: Sweater Weather, The NBHF

Nico was in the cooldown room when it happened. Towel in hand, he was wiping the cold droplets trickling down his torso when Lewis burst open the door. (They didn't even use the cooldown room at the same time anymore.)

“Nico.”

The name left his teammate's mouth for the first time in weeks. Nico's throat didn't have to tighten like that— he wasn't going to speak anyway.

“I need to talk to you,” Lewis said, something desperate in his voice that Nico wasn't sure was real.

All I am is a man

Nico’s words were careful, deliberately stern. “What do you want, Lewis?”

I want the world in my hands

“To talk to you- about the race.” Abu Dhabi. 2016. “You won. Congratulations. I still won the championship.”

That seemed to snap something inside Lewis. In a swift motion, he lunged at Nico. But his childhood friend was much too familiar with his tactics, he knew about his speedy attacks and had swift reflexes to match. All those teenage years spent wrestling on hotel beds weren't for nothing.

“I don't fucking care!” Lewis shouted, his collar grasped in Nico's hands, Nico pushed all up against the wall. “I don't fucking care that I won the race!”

“You seemed to care a fuck lot about it on the track, mate,” Nico spat.

Lewis jerked his shoulders, hitting his head on the wall in the process. “Why can't you see, Nico?! Why can't you understand? I can't take this anymore.”

I hate the beach

But I stand in California with my toes in the sand

“Take what, Lewis? Because all I've been doing this year is take and take and fucking take. You haven't taken shit compared to what you've put me through.�� His eyes were burning now. He needed Lewis out of here.

“I can't take this— you pretending I don't exist. I will take the accidents and the crashes and the goddamn fistfights, but I can't,” —his voice broke, eyes welling up, and Nico had the urge to wipe them before any tears fell— “I can't take this, Nico.”

Use the sleeves of my sweater

“You really think you're the only one suffering? How self centred, how typical of you, Lewis.”

Let's have an adventure

“...What?”

“You think this doesn't hurt me? this non stop fighting and competition, and never making up? Open your fucking eyes. I don't like this any more than you do.”

Lewis' hands dropped from his shoulders, chest heaving. The air between them was electric, too dangerous to breathe in.

Head in the clouds but my gravity centered

“Then why do you do it?” It was the smallest voice Nico had ever heard.

Because it's better than admitting the truth. Because it has less consequences than saying 'I love you.' “Because you started it.”

Touch my neck and I'll touch yours

Dark eyes trailed from his wet hair to the damn skin of his torso, not in a lewd way, but like a man recalling all that he has to lose. When he looked back up, there was a hope in his eyes that Nico couldn't bear looking at. “And will you stop if I stop?”

You in those little high waisted shorts, oh

This was a terrible idea from the beginning. The Karting, the trip to Greece, the ride-or-die friendship, all of it— terrible.

Oh, she knows what I think about

“Stop fucking thinking so much, Nico, it can't get worse than this.”

It really couldn't.

And what I think about

The answer came in the form of a desperate hand grabbing the back of Lewis’ head to bring him closer.

It was a gunshot, the way their lips met each other's. It was the sweet shock of love after a lifetime of yearning. It was like their first sip of too-strong whiskey at fourteen, knowing they've crossed a line they can never go back to.

One love, two mouths

Lewis’ surprise melted into eagerness in a split second. Nico tilted his head and grabbed his bicep. Lewis had grabbed Nico's face with both hands like he was something dear and precious.

It really was a terrible idea, and nothing could ever fix it; but if they were going to burn they'd go down singing in the flames.

One love, one house

“Take off your shirt,” he grunted. Lewis obeyed.

Smooth brown skin burned under Nico's freezing palms. He grabbed a handful of the pecs, moaning into the kiss.

No shirt, no blouse

“Is this—” Lewis pushed him away. God give him dignity, Nico almost whined. “Is this a confession thing? Or a goodbye thing? Because I have no idea what I'll do with a goodbye fuck.”

Just us, you find out

Nico had no idea either. He didn't want to leave Lewis. But for now, the only thing on his mind was the throbbing heart under his hand. They were here. ‘Leaving’ seemed like something out of a hazy dream. “I don't know.”

Nothing that I wouldn't wanna tell you about, no

Lewis had this look on his face— like he wanted to run away but his feet wouldn't take him. Nico wanted to tell him that there was nothing he could have done to change anything. There was nothing that could have ended up with them anywhere other than where they are. He didn't say anything.

'Cause it's too cold for you here

“Do you really? Or is this another game?” Yes, Nico wanted to yell. He knew what Hamilton was asking. 'Do you really love me?’ and he wanted to yell, Yes, yes, yes. I do love you. I do. I'm sorry. All he could do was nod.

And now, so let me hold

Both your hands in the holes of my sweater

Lewis put a hand on his cheek, kissing him again. Only this time it was so much more gentle, yet hurt so much more. Somewhere in his subconscious Lewis seemed to have realised that this was probably the first and last time they will ever do this; and he did it like he wanted to remember.

And if I may just take your breath away

There was so much Nico wanted to say, and he couldn't say any of it. He wanted to scream.

We will never be the same again, he wanted to say. I will never love another like you. A moan. You've destroyed all that I was. A sigh. Do not destroy what I am. Hands caressed his body, so soft it was painful. Build me a pyre, and I'll still whisper your name as I burn. A prayer. I love y—

“How do you want this?” Lewis whispered, hands working him out of his pants.

I don't mind if there's not much to say

Nico grabbed his shoulders, using the stability of Lewis’ hands on his thighs to wrap his legs around his waist. He relished in the way Lewis groaned, he would never hear it ever again.

Sometimes the silence guides a mind

To move to a place so far away

Lewis was gentle, so gentle. They both loved like an ocean. With Nico it was a tsunami; desire coursing through his veins as he groped, wrecked, swallowed everything that came in his way. And with Lewis it was this; sweet, gentle and relentless like moonlit waves in the darkest hours of the night. What choice did either have but to drown?

The goosebumps start to raise

“More,” he whimpered, arching his back against the wall. The soft gaze with which Lewis was watching him was more violent than any fistfight they've ever had.

And then I watch your face

Put my finger on your tongue 'cause you love to taste, yeah

It hurt— even with how tender Lewis was being. Maybe more so because of that. He harshened the pace at Nico's request, hiding his face in the crook of his neck. Their hearts beat in sync, thudding against the ribcages pressed together.

These hearts adore, everyone the other beats hardest for

Strangling begins with holding. Cannibalism begins with a kiss. They both bring grief and hurt and madness; what is love if not just tender violence?

Inside this place is warm

Outside it starts to pour

He reached the peak of his pleasure first, spilling onto their abdomens. Lewis followed right after.

Coming down

One love, two mouths

They stayed like that for a while; chests heaving, foreheads pressed together, hearts broken like the promises they made at fourteen.

One love, one house

No shirt, no blouse

“Don't leave me, Nico.”

Just us, you find out

Why do you speak to me and why do I try to understand? he thought. We no longer speak the same language.

Not a word was uttered.

Nothing that I wouldn't wanna tell you about, no, no, no

“We can fix this.” That damned hope.

'Cause it's too cold for you here

“Put me down,” was what Nico chose to say. Lewis did, searching his face desperately for an answer.

And now, so let me hold

Both your hands in the holes of my sweater

Nico picked his pants off the floor, pulling them on without another word. Lewis spared them both the pain and stayed silent as well.

'Cause it's too cold for you here

He was wiping his torso with a spare towel when Lewis finally spoke.

“You promised, Nico.”

Nico looked at him, no longer caring about the wet streaks on his cheeks. “We made a lot of stupid promises.”

And now, so let me hold

Both your hands in the holes of my sweater

“You said we'd race together. Forever. You said you wouldn't race without me. Then why should I?”

Wasn't forever such a sweet lie? It wasn't nearly as long as people thought it was.

Both your hands in the holes of my sweater

“I'm leaving racing for good, Lewis.”

And it's too cold, it's too cold

Lewis was silent for what seemed like hours. “I love you.”

With a single whispered phrase, Nico shut the door behind him. “It'll pass.”

The holes of my sweater…

#f1 fic #f1 ships #f1 rpf fic #brocedes #lewis hamilton x nico rosberg #sunshine and britney #madhav ke lekh #brocedes angst #brocedes smut #formula 1 #formula one #f1

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