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kiirschtein-archive · 1 year

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⋆ 「 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐦𝐢’𝐬 (𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞) 𝐦𝐨𝐦. 」 ⋆

feat. — toji fushiguro x f!reader, kid!megumi

word count. — 1.4k

content. — sfw, non-sorcerer au, established relationship (marriage), mostly just fluffy domestic stuff, reader is addressed as ‘mom/mama/mommy,’ toji’s kind of a bad parent but he’s working on it, brief mention of toji smoking (cigarettes), overprotective!toji, very minor suggestive themes (from toji 🙄 he’s a walking cw/tw)

notes. — idk. this has been incessantly on my brain pretty much from the moment i woke up today, even to the point where i was writing half of this at the laundromat lmao. mother’s day yesterday had me feeling some type of way, so here have some fun headcanons from a strange eldest daughter!!!! (i might end up doing a set of these for gojo x reader too 🤔)

⋆ 「 — he’s not your biological son, but you’ve been around since you started seeing toji when megumi was still a baby. but now, a few years later, you might as well be his real mother. you certainly act like it and feel like it, so toji gladly initiates the conversation about official adoption. it just makes sense. you eventually explain the situation to megumi as best as you can simply so that he doesn't grow up thinking he was lied to or anything of the sort, but as far as he's concerned, you're his mom whether it's by blood or not.

⋆ 「 — and oh, megumi’s a mama’s boy. i imagine he’s just a little bit of a healthier kid vs. canon given the better family situation, but he’s still always a bit of a grumpy baby, appreciating his autonomy and trying to be as self-sufficient and mature as he can be. but he’ll most certainly run to you when he needs help, is truly hurt, or just needing a bit of comfort. you’ve always treated him so softly and kindly with understanding, so he honestly feels more comfortable coming to you most of the time instead of his dad.

⋆ 「 — he likes the way you organize the bookshelf in his room or fold and sort his clothes in special little ways. he gets upset any time toji tries to put a book back in the wrong place or can’t figure out where his damn socks are. gumi will scowl and say, “that’s not where it goes.” or go deadpan and be like, “mom always keeps the socks in the bottom drawer.” disappointed that his father can’t even remember. toji just grumbles and says, “your mama’s gonna ruin you.”

⋆ 「 — has called you 'mom' basically since he was old enough, but don't let him fool you. megumi will drop the big boy act and come out with 'mama' or 'mommy' when something's wrong or he's really excited. he'll come to you with quiet tears and sniffles, a little ashamed that he's crying, but present to you a scraped elbow, "mama... it hurts." you clean up the scrape and explain to him the little medical details in a somewhat understandable way to help him focus on something besides the pain, and you tell him that it'll be okay, and that it's alright to cry. or on the flip-side, you and toji take him to the zoo, little gumi on his dad's shoulders, and he gasps and points excitedly, "look, mommy! look at the big elephant!" and it feels incredible to see him be so spirited.

⋆ 「 — along the lines of the art from this post and the thought i had about it earlier, just imagine that you're at some event (maybe like a birthday party or something), and toji's been hauling megumi around. they're both so over it at this point and are like 'please get me out of this' so as soon as toji walks past the obnoxious inflatable bouncy house, he smirks and just YEETS that kid inside without a second thought. after regaining his breath, megumi just looks at his father with the most EVIL little scowl as other kids bounce around him with smiles. by the look on that child's face you could've swore that his father had just done him the ultimate betrayal.

so gumi slides out and hurriedly makes his way over to where you're sitting off to the side, quietly climbing into your lap for a little bit of solace. he wiggles in close to your chest and you tuck him under your chin with a ‘come here, sweetpea,’ rocking slowly and humming something soft because he always seems to like it when you do.

toji comes over and you look at him through narrowed eyes. "kids are supposed to like shit like that," he says.

"you know he likes when things are more quiet," you respond, and toji rolls his eyes at how you seemingly spoil your son.

"just thought it might be good for him to try and get along with the other brats." toji tries to cover up the fact that he tossed his kid for the sheer personal enjoyment of it.

you huff in disbelief. "oh, like you get along so well with everyone?"

he scoffs and moves in behind you, leaning down to place a kiss on your neck. "i get along with you," he says almost suggestively.

you just keep stroking megumi's hair and give the top of his head a gentle kiss. "yeah, well not today," you say, shooting a smug, resolute smile towards your husband, ultimately taking his son's side.

⋆ 「 — outside of his alone time, megumi would honestly much rather be with you instead of other children. toji thinks it's probably unhealthy and you're inclined to agree, but you also don't want to force megumi into situations that will just make him miserable. so, when appropriate, you don't mind at all pacing around with him in your arms or have him walk next to you (maybe holding your hand if he’s not in a ‘big boy’ mood), teaching him about the things you see in the woods, the park, or even the museum. when toji's not away working, he'll join too because it admittedly makes his heart feel soft to watch you two together. it always has, because you've been doing this with megumi since he was a baby. it never gets old. if it wasn't already so difficult trying to figure out how to do things right by his son, he'd want you to give him even more babies.

⋆ 「 — megumi likes doing things with his dad sometimes too, though. toji tries his best to do it right and watch both his mouth and his temper. you like seeing them getting along, even if it's just quietly watching tv or a movie (probably a cartoon where toji gets kind of into and will ask the occasional question like "why does that one stupid chick keep doing that?" and megumi just shrugs like, "i dunno. she is pretty dumb.") or playing ball outside because gumi's starting to show some athleticism. but you have to remind toji that he can't always be so rough or competitive with games because megumi is literally a child.

⋆ 「 — toji can also be way too overprotective of you two at times. you'll be out and about and he'll just be wearing such an intimidating expression as he walks behind you both, on the lookout for anyone who might want to cause trouble or take the wrong sort of glance at his wife. he'll even snap at people for walking too close or like cutting in line or something petty, and you have to tell him stop acting like an attack dog and looking like the grim reaper because dear god you're literally just having lunch at the park. even at his age, megumi's just eating his ice cream and looking at his dad with his little baby deadpan expression and thinking "this man really needs to take a chill pill." other times he can be more relaxed, however, obviously confident in his ability to protect you. it depends on his mood. but that still doesn’t stop him from being embarrassing and going off on people in public if something happens.

⋆ 「 — you also know all of gumi’s favorite meals and snacks. it’s yet another one of those things where, if his dad does it wrong, megumi expresses a disappointment beyond his years. toji will be making and packing his son’s school lunch just as instructed by the notes you gave him, but it’s by no means as neat and meticulous as when you do it. toji’s got a cigarette hanging out of his mouth with furrowed, concentrating brows, his free hand shakily reaching for a cup of fresh coffee, and megumi’s standing there with his little backpack, criticizing his father the entire time. “mom doesn’t do it like that,” he says.

“well mom ain’t here right now. and it doesn’t matter how the sandwich is cut, is still tastes the damn same.”

gumi doesn’t even physically react, still wearing the same neutral expression, just waiting for his dad to hurry up. “mom says you shouldn’t smoke. and she also says not to use bad words.”

toji scoffs and then smirks. “well mommy uses all sorts of bad words you don’t even know about when her and daddy have play time.”

megumi’s already almost late for school and can barely feel his feet from how tight his dad tied his shoelaces. he also asks you later about “play time,” and you want to absolutely murder your husband over it.

#toji fushiguro x reader #toji x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #jjk x reader #c. — toji fushiguro #hc. — toji fushiguro #fluff. — toji fushiguro #c. — megumi fushiguro #hc. — megumi fushiguro #fluff. — megumi fushiguro #my writing.

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apomaro-mellow · 8 months

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Steve gets the wrong number and starts texting an interesting guy. Steddie, modern au, no upside down

Steve had been feeling pretty good. He’d gone out, had a nice conversation with a girl at the bar and gotten her number. He didn’t feel sparks but she was nice and cute. They didn’t talk about anything too deep but when Steve had asked for her number she put it in and then left with her friends.

He tried not to be too desperate. But he wanted to let her know he was serious and that he would (eventually) be good boyfriend material. So a little before midnight, he shot a text to her to make sure she was alright.

[11:47] Hey this is Steve just making sure you got home okay 🙂

He had debated on the emoji but figured it was harmless and innocent in the end. He put his phone down and got ready for bed, expecting her to text back after a couple of minutes. Unless she didn’t get home safely. Steve tried not to think about that.

After changing his clothes and brushing his teeth he checked his phone. He lit up when he saw that Misty had replied.

(11:52) Sure did Steve-o (11:53) Thanks for your concern 🫡

Misty texted a little different from the way she talked. A bit more…well he wasn’t sure how to describe it. Misty seemed like a really straight-laced woman. She was in the process of getting her education degree.

Steve shot back another message, saying that he had a good time tonight and he really hoped to see her again. There it was. A clear intention. If she responded positively, he’d ask her out right then. But the reply didn’t come as quick as he wanted. When it got around 12:30, Steve finally called it a night. Misty had probably gone to sleep as well.

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[11:47] Hey this is Steve just making sure you got home okay 🙂

Eddie stared at the text he just received. He racked his brain for whoever Steve must be and what he had done all day today, wondering if he met someone but their name just slipped his mind.

But nope. He had spent this lovely Saturday at home, lounging around in his apartment on his day off. He hadn’t gone out. And he hadn’t met anyone named Steve. The message came when he was in the middle of making his near-midnight dinner of mac and cheese. Whoever this guy was, he was clearly checking in on someone.

Eddie looked at his surroundings. Decent place, a bit cramped but big enough for just him and for anyone who needed to crash on his couch. He had popped out earlier to get some cigs and he had in fact made it back safely.

(11:52) Sure did Steve-o (11:53) Thanks for your concern 🫡

And who said he didn’t have impulse control? He thought about it for at least two minutes before sending the message.

[11:55] I had a nice time tonight. Hope to see you again.

Eddie looked at the new text, his chewing slowing to a stop. This Steve guy had met someone, spent some time with them, and was now trying to set up another date. There were a few ways to go about this. For just a moment he considered what a rational person would do, just a moment though.

A rational person might’ve said right away ‘wrong number’ or ‘wires crossed’. But Eddie’s brain didn’t function on rationality. So even though Steve clearly meant to text someone else, Eddie thought of the best way to reply. It did take him a bit to send it, the macaroni was calling to him. But by 1, Eddie had sent something back.

(1:07) You saw me? (1:09) From my apartment? (1:10) Creepy

He went to bed, thinking he’d wake up to a very confused man and when morning came he wasn’t disappointed.

[8:13] What are you talking about? It’s Steve? From the bar?

Eddie checked his clock. It was ten in the morning. Who got up at eight on a Sunday? Eddie’s first thought was a church-goer. Those folks were early risers. But they didn’t frequent bars too much.

(10:29) Sorry man (10:30) I think you got the wrong number (10:30) I didn’t go to a bar last night.

Once he sent it, Eddie belatedly hoped the words weren’t too blunt. It couldn’t feel nice, getting a number error. But after a moment of thinking, he started coming around to the idea that maybe Steve wasn’t such a catch. People didn’t give wrong numbers after a good time. Maybe he actually was a creep.

[10:36] Oh. Well, I’m sorry to bother you.

Eddie rolled from his back onto his stomach. Curse his soft heart. He didn’t know anything about this man and somehow he felt sorry for him. But he wasn’t about to go gushing to a stranger. Who knows what kind of interactions Steve had with this mystery number? So instead, he went the typical Eddie route and tried to lighten the mood.

(10:38) Probably dodged a bullet (10:38) They could’ve been a serial killer (10:39) Or worse someone who jogs in the morning

He put that little dig there just to feel out Steve. If he wasn’t at church, maybe he was the kind to go and workout in the morning. In the middle of making his coffee, Eddie realized he was trying to learn about the dude and thought he might be courting danger. Then he heard a ‘ping!’ and any ideas of caution were thrown to the wind.

Leaning against the counter, the only sound was the percolating as he read what Steve had said.

[10:46] Okay confession. I did actually go for a jog this morning. Is that weird?

Eddie started to visualize this man and another alarm went off in his mind that he promptly shooed away.

(10:47) No not weird at all (10:47) It’s perfectly natural for an insane person (10:48) Didn’t you go drinking last night? (10:48) And then you went for a jog this morning? (10:49) You might just be more scary than a murderer (10:50) Scratch that (10:50) This seems like text book serial killer behavior (10:51) Bet this is how you scope out your targets

The coffee finished brewing and Eddie starting pouring it and it was only then he realized the wall he’d sent Steve accusing him of being a killer. It looked like texts from a crazy person. He looked crazy. His friends had complained more than once about him sending these streams of texts instead of keeping it all in one response. Steve was going to see that and leave him on read, or just block his number.

[10:57] Damn guess I better come up with a new tactic.

Eddie didn’t realize how hard he was smiling until he tried to drink and spilled hot coffee on himself. Alarms were ringing in his head again but he might as well be deaf.

Part 2

#apo writes #stranger things #fanfiction #steddie #lemme know what yall think of the text format #im still figurin it out

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sc0tters · 8 months

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It’s Captain Now | Quinn Hughes

summary: when you take Quinn out for drinks to celebrate his captains announcement you push his buttons landing you up on his bed.

request: yes/no

warnings: mature themes, p in v, oral (fem and m receiving!), minimal degradation used (slut once), swearing.

word count: 2.59k

authors note: okay so I definitely got carried away with how I wrote Quinn in this but it’s for his captaincy so I can’t get bashed for going big. Ending is a bit rushed because I want to go to sleep but I wanted this out today. Sort of felt like a full circle moment for those of you that remember the first smut I did on here with Jack and Quinn’s best friend so I figured it was only fair to do a Quinn and Jack best friend one 😭

Quinn’s brain was playing against him tonight.

You looked good in your little blue dress that barely covered your ass as you leaned over the bar counter to get your drinks.

The hockey player had to say that your strict instructions making him stay sat because this was your treat was something that Quinn enjoyed when you sent him a cheeky grin.

He knew it was wrong thinking about you like this, but Quinn knew that there was no other way for him to see you. Not after the summer.

The sound of your laugh erupted through the house as Jack threw you over his shoulder “let me go Jacky!” You groaned banging your fists on his back.

Quinn looked up from his phone as he heard the noise “can you not kill her before the rest of the boys get here?” He asked smiling as you were thrown onto the couch next to him.

Your breasts bounced in your bikini making it a sight for sore eyes “you’re no fun now that she lives with you.” Jack pointed out as he sent his brother an irritated look.

However those negative feelings were short lived as the knock at the door pulled the younger Hughes boys attention away from the way you smiled at Quinn “I’ll be back.” Jack announced making his way to the door.

The Canucks player had to say that he was surprised when you stayed on the couch with him “don’t you want to see your friends?” Quinn asked cocking his head.

You were quick to shake your head “like sitting with you,” you reached over to tap his nose letting out a giggle at how he scrunched his face “roomie,” you added using his new nickname.

After you graduated you couldn’t find an apartment in Vancouver so Quinn offered you his second bedroom. Not a single thought of hesitation went through your mind when he offered it to you because over your time in Vancouver you grew to love Quinn, in ways you shouldn’t love your best friends brother “you better not be avoiding me y/n!” Trevor called out making you both laugh from the couch.

You got up “wouldn’t dream of it ass hat!” You smiled running over to the boys as you left Quinn to watch you get pulled into a hug by the New York native.

As the eldest Hughes boy felt his heart grow green with jealous he knew it only meant one thing, that Quinn Hughes was in love with you.

You snapped your fingers in front of Quinn’s face “you good?” You asked cocking your head as Quinn seemed to come back to you.

His cheeks were red as the image of you in that stupidly small bikini was still in the front of his mind “y-yeah…sorry,” Quinn was quick to apologise as he chugged back some of his beer.

Despite the fact that you knew something was off you decided to not dig into it “how are you feeling about the news captain?” You smiled innocently as you turned to face him fully.

Quinn felt his jeans tighten as you used his new title “oh my god.” You slapped your hand over your mouth watching him puff out his cheeks.

That was his tell tale sign that he was horny and you had picked up on that years ago “what?” Quinn asked when you threw your head back with laughter.

Part of you wondered if you should really let him know “have you got something you want to tell me captain?” You teased placing your hand on his knee as he repeated his original reaction.

Now Quinn figured out what you were playing at “stop it!” He groaned growing embarrassed.

The teasing didn’t stop during the night, in fact it actually got worse. It continued all the way until you two got home “thanks for keeping me company cap,” you wrapped your hand around his arm as you used him for support as you took your heels off.

Just as you were about to walk away Quinn grabbed your hand pulling you back to him. Your body hit his chest before you looked up to him “you gotta stop saying that to me y/n.” He sighed cupping your cheek as he let the rough pad of his finger rub against the warmth of your skin.

You started to feel bad as you thought it was irritating him “not when you aren’t going do anything about the problem you’re causing.” Quinn added letting his voice float to your ear as his bulge rubbed against your thigh.

A groan left your throat as thoughts came through your head “didn’t mean to do that Quinn,” you apologised as your lips formed a pout.

He couldn’t stay mad at you for long when your hand trailed up his shorts “‘m sorry,” you mumbled palming his cock as the boy stayed silent.

The Canucks player almost drifted off into this state of peace as his eyes went hooded “should show me just how sorry you are princess.” Quinn gasped forcing the words out of his mouth.

A smile formed on your face “wanna make you feel so good cap,” you cooed bringing your lips to his. The kiss was soft as his hand locked in the back of your hair “stop teasing me then baby, fuck!” Quinn groaned feeling your hand just cup his balls.

You giggled as you dropped to your knees “do I make you horny Quinn?” You asked hooking your fingers in the waist band of his shorts pulling them down with his pants as you smiled.

His head fell back as your cold fingers wrapped around his cock “so much baby” he groaned feeling you kitten lick his tip “don’t deserve to be teased like this.” Quinn added as you looked up at him through your eyelashes.

It felt like pure torture as you drunkenly giggled before you wrapped your lips around his cock “fuck me,” he gasped hearing the sounds of your gags along with your own moans that sent vibrations through his body.

Quinn wrapped his hand around your hair as he forced your throat to take his cock deeper “so good baby.” His praise made you clench your pussy around nothing.

Your hot mouth felt like heaven around his cock “ugh Quinn,” your words came out muffled as his cock seemed to swallow them hitting the back of your throat.

All of the tension that had built up in his pants over night were now falling apart as your tongue swirled around him trying to get Quinn to that high as quickly as his whole body tensed “keep doing so good baby.” The hockey player encouraged you as you continued to gurgle around his cock.

His orgasm hit him like a truck as he almost fell over “so fucking good princess.” It seemed like the boy couldn’t settle on a nickname for you as he pulled his cock out from your mouth.

You titled your head up letting your mouth hang open before you swallow his release “god y/n,” Quinn swore he was on cloud nine as he watched you stick your tongue out now empty.

He held his hand out to help you back up “you gonna fuck me like a real captain?” You asked grinning from ear to ear.

If Quinn knew that that you were going to be such a brat in the sheets he would have fucked you weeks if not months ago “I gotta taste you first.” Quinn blurted out cupping your cheeks again as he kissed you.

His tongue slid into your mouth letting him taste his release on your tongue as he pushed you all the way back until your knees hit the pillow of the couch sending you both back onto it “you knew you were gonna get fucked didn’t you?” The hockey player asked seeing your blue thong as your dress pushed up around your waist.

Quinn let his fingers run down your stomach stopping at the fabric of your panties picking a side up so it could snap back against your skin “asked you a question princess.” He muttered pulling the underwear down your legs painfully slowly “hoped you would fuck me Quinn,” you confessed arching your back into the couch.

You should have been embarrassed with how wet you were as Quinn stared down down at your soaked pussy “you know that’s not my name tonight baby.” Quinn mumbled laying his tongue down flat as he lick a stripe up your folds.

Your hands went to his hair “sorry cap,” you were quick to apologise as he smirked to himself “won’t make that mistake again,” you added puffing your cheeks out as Quinn took his two fingers and ran them over your clit a few times before he thrusted them inside of you.

The hockey player locked his eyes with yours “know you won’t because you’re my good girl right?” Quinn asked before he latched his lips around your clit.

It was quick to make you jump forward with pleasure as you gasped “fucking hell cap,” you groaned running your fingers over your chest.

The matching blue bra was seen thrown across the room as you let your fingers trace over the stiff peaks that your nipples had formed “please let me come,” you begged knowing that you weren’t going to last long with how turned on you were when you sucked Quinn off.

He groaned sending shivers up your spine “I promise I’ll be your good girl.” You nodded to yourself as you pulled at his hair trying to get him closer to your core than he already was.

It seemed that Quinn’s brain was telling his tongue to treat you like you were meant to be his last meal “don’t stop,” you groaned grinding your hips against his face as your thighs began to grow shaky.

Knowing that he was the one causing you to let out those moans and it wasn’t that little black vibrator that you hide in your makeup drawer was a total boost to Quinn’s ego “gotta ask for it like a good girl.” He mumbled somehow having you hear his words perfectly as he went back to sucking your clit whilst his fingers get your pussy occupied.

You were surprised you could even get the words out “please let me come captain.” You begged digging your hips into the couch “I promise I’ll be your good girl as you fuck me.” Those words caused him to grunt and that set off your orgasm.

Now Quinn wasn’t a cruel man, he wasn’t going to stop you because he said no. Instead he was going to fuck you through it and make you pay afterwards “shit Quinn!” You cried leaving that as the real cherry on top of the cake as he retracted his fingers from your pussy.

You were in trouble now “get up,” Quinn’s tone was serious making you listen to him quickly “why?” You asked following his request.

Quinn glared as he reached behind you to grab a handful of your ass “you didn’t listen to me baby so now I have to punish you,” he sighed softly slapping the your skin.

It was hard to concentrate as you rubbed your thighs together trying to alleviate some of the pleasure you felt “so go get naked and wait for me on the bed.” With that Quinn sent you off to his bed room leaving you oozing with anticipation as you got rid of your your dress laying down on his bed just like he wanted you.

But of course the moment Quinn saw you he had other ideas “face down baby, ass up.” He barked causing you to roll over onto your stomach as you heard him get rid of his T-shirt as it fell to the ground.

Quinn had to admit that you being so responsive to him was earning you some brownie points “now you know how to be a good girl for me huh?” He asked cocking his head as he joined you on his bed quickly reaching into the drawer for a condom.

All you could do was nod as you tried to hold back a squeal of excitement “please fuck me captain.” You begged feeling his hands wrap around your hips as his fingers dug into your sides.

There was no doubt about it that your were ready and Quinn was done waiting. So he took his covered cock as he ran it over your clit a few times before he thrusted inside of your pussy. The angle was perfect for him as it like his cock get wrapped up by your tight little cunt “baby ready to by my dumb little cock slut?” He asked thrusting his cock at a painfully slow pace as the hockey player continued to bottom you out.

Your whimpers practically lit Quinn’s skin of fire “yes cap, I’ll whatever you want.” You pleaded just wanting him to move faster.

Thankfully for you it didn’t take him long as those words seemed to trigger a switch in his head causing him to listen to you “so fucking good.” Quinn groaned letting his lower half do most of the work as he let his one hand reach down to rub your clit “if you behave for now on you might even be allowed to come without permission.” The hockey player proposed enjoying how your ass looked bouncing against his lower torso as your pussy swallowed his cock.

It felt like he was on cloud nine “wanna be your best girl,” you cried out feeling your eyes flutter as the boy continued to bottom you out.

He managed to hit spots that no dildo could dream of “you are my only girl baby,” Quinn cooed squeezing his face like he had eaten something sour as your pussy hadn’t stopped clenching around his cock.

The sound of skin slapping only added another layer of pleasure for both of you as the room went silent with you both trying to focus on only one thing “c’mon cap please,” you begged feeling like your legs were going to give out from under you.

Quinn smiled as he used his other hand to reach down and tease your breast as he remembered you doing it early “oh shit,” you swore feeling it.

The hockey player pressed warm kisses up your neck stopping by your ear “be my good girl and come for me.” Quinn mumbled letting his hot breath fan against your ear.

That was all it took for you to come as your body dropped to the mattress as you shuddered letting your hands grab at the comforter beneath you “so fucking good baby,” he cooed helping you through your orgasm as his own was caused by that.

Quinn pulled out of you with heavy breathing as he lay down next to you, with the little energy you had left you turned to look up at him “you okay?” The hockey player asked brushing your hair out of your face.

You nodded as you let out a yawn “let’s run you a bath,” he mumbled scooping up your body like you were a child.

Your hand went to his jaw as you squeezed it forcing him to look at you “for us,” you corrected Quinn as you smiled watching him shut the bathroom door behind you two.

Now this is how you spend your first official day as captain of an NHL team.

#quinn hughes smut #Quinn Hughes imagines #quinn hughes oneshot #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes x reader #oneshots #imagines #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #nhl imagine #nhl oneshot #hockey smut #nhl smut #amber writes fics

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boy-cow000 · 2 months

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Drained

Spencer x Gn!Reader

Warnings: Mostly Fluff, Mention of a case, Spencer feeling rough

Summary: After a particularly long case Spencer happens to lock himself out of his apartment. In need of help, he stumbles into the home of the only non-bau friend he has left. However, he finds himself much more comfortable with you than he originally thought.

Word Count: about 890

A/N: Pretty short blurb because I’ve been dying to write again but I’ve been too lazy to rub my two brain cells together and produce something :,D btw IDK what season this is in so use your imagination

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Spencer couldn't be more thankful for his job. Knowing the lives he saved and the people he helped was enough to get him through most of the especially rough cases. However, this most recent one had been particularly troubling. The random small American town they had been flown to was not known for their technological advancements, to say the least, and the lack of documentation had made Garcia's job almost impossible. On top of that, the intrusive and misguided opinion of the head chief of police had completely skewed the case in the wrong direction. Needless to say, Spencer was rightfully exhausted, along with the rest of the members of the BAU.

After landing and leaving the jet, he told himself that all he had to do was head home so he could finally sleep. Truth be told, it wasn’t even that late; the plane had landed around 8:20 PM. Yet, sleep was the only thing on Spencer's mind after that 48-hour case.

It took him some time to get home, but at this point, nothing but the sweet relief of his bed mattered. Except, much to his dismay, he seemed to have a little trouble finding his keys. Unfortunately for him, that “little trouble” turned into a full-blown panic very quickly. Spencer tried to remember where he had put it. Mentally swatting away the thick fog laying over his mind, he let his head smack against his front door in defeat when he realized that his keys were left on the jet. Calculating his options, it became apparent there weren’t many. His coworkers were probably already sleeping, and it's not like Spencer had a history of having an extensive list of friends. Well, except you, that is. Spencer didn’t feel like paying upwards of 65 to 120 dollars for some locksmith to come in the middle of the night, so you were starting to seem like the best option. Knowing you didn’t live far away, he grabbed his things and started to text you. On the drive over, he began feeling a little nervous. He wondered if the reason you weren’t answering was because you were asleep and if he was going to bother you.

Upon arriving, he felt at ease seeing the lights in your apartment on. He fumbled with his bags but managed to get to your front door without dropping anything. He was so tired. Blinded by the light of the inside of your apartment, he resorted to a curt “hi” once you opened the door. You let him in a bit panicked; to be frank, you didn't know why he had suddenly asked you if you could crash. You were still happy to see him, however.

After explaining the situation, you let out a sigh, knowing nothing serious had happened. You told him to make himself at home while you figured out where your extra covers were. He took off his shoes and sat himself on your couch, awaiting further instruction.

When you came back, you saw Spencer, palming the socket of his eyes. Your heart stopped for a second, worry took over, and you wondered if maybe the case was weighing on him more than he’d like to admit. You rushed over.

“ Spence! Are you okay?” You laid the covers on the edge of the couch and rested a hand on Spencer's shoulder.

Spencer peeked into your eyes for what seemed like forever—a breathless moment between his answers. You felt your heart form a lump in your throat; your cheeks flushed, and you suddenly felt guilty. What if Spencer was actually doing terrible and you couldn’t help him because you were too busy wrestling with the effect he had on you? Eventually, you broke the intense eye contact, and Spencer sighed in return.

”I’m fine, really. It’s just… I was exhausted a minute ago, and now”

”Not so much.” You finished his sentence for him. He let out a light chuckle and bumped shoulders with you. He must’ve been delirious, because you couldn’t think of another reason why he would’ve been comfortable enough for all that physical contact. Your torso stiffened, and while still trying to calm yourself down, he let his head roll onto your shoulder and nudge itself into your neck. Spencer was going to kill you if he kept this up.

Spencer snaked his arms around you, entrapping you and making you fall back into the couch a little. You grabbed his opposite shoulder, hoping to lay him back, but his head bobbled a little lower, and it was clear he was no longer awake. Spencer kept snuggling, and it was making it increasingly harder to get yourself out of his grasp. An incoherent thank you left his lips before he fully fell asleep. So you sat there, absolutely surrounded by Spencer. Glaring at his slumbering state. Overtly aware of his faint sent, of his hair brushing against your face, of his slowed breath on your neck, of his hand grasping your waist, of him.

Your own exhaustion was catching up to you at an alarming pace. Despite your brain and dignity screaming at you not to fall asleep in his arms, your thoughts were starting to blur. Eventually, you fell asleep, caged in, breathing to the sound of his heartbeat. With that, tomorrow promised itself to be interesting.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #dr. spencer reid #spencer reid moodboard #spencer reid angst #doctor spencer reid #criminal minds angst #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid fluff #spencer x reader #spencer x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x gn reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine

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astraystayyh · 9 months

Text

The alternative

Brother's best friend changbin x reader. Fluff and slight angst. (Han is the brother).

Based on my interpretation of The Alternative by Lyn Lapid (if u can, play it after the •••)

You've diligently chased the idea of being with Changbin out of your mind. That is until he picks you up from a bad date, making your steadfast resolve unravel all around you.

skz song series masterlist

"Yn?" Changbin’s voice echoes clearly through the phone, and you startle, leaning away to check if you mistakenly dialed the wrong person. But there it is- Han's contact name illuminating your screen, confirming your intended call.

"Changbin? Where is Han?" you ask hesitantly, confused as to why your brother did not pick up his phone.

"He left his phone at home. I wasn't going to answer but I saw five missed calls from you, so I figured something might be wrong. Are you okay?" he asks, his voice softening at the last question.

His concern tugs at your heart, causing you to bite your lower lip forcefully. You've been sitting across from your date for the past two hours, and yet Changbin managed to pay more attention to you in the span of five seconds.

"I'm okay, don't worry about it," you reassure, trying your best to sound composed.

"Did you need something?"

"I just... I'm on a date right now and I wanted Han to come pick me up. But it's okay."

"Did they do something to you?" he asks, his voice carrying an edge to it that hadn't been present moments ago.

"No!" you quickly reassure. "I just... I don't know, it feels off but it's okay. I'm sorry for bothering you." The practiced apology rolls off your tongue effortlessly, without you having to think about uttering it.

You're accustomed to shrinking yourself, trying your hardest not take up space with your feelings. It has become second nature to you to bury your problems in a dusty box at the back of your mind, as soon as they threaten to affect those around you.

"Where are you?" he asks as you hear shuffling from his end, "I'm coming to pick you up."

"You don't have to," you murmur, regret already welling up inside you. You should've stopped calling your brother when he didn't pick up the first time.

"You are uncomfortable. That's reason enough for me."

You attempt to contradict him, but the words dissolve in your mouth, swallowed back down your throat. There's something about Changbin's unwavering voice that makes you pause. You don't have the strength to contradict him.

"Okay, thank you," you exhale a ragged breath in relief. "I'll text you the address."

You hang up, leaving the bathroom you were hiding in and sitting in front of your date once again. They resume talking, but you tune them out, your thoughts solely revolving around Changbin- the way the planets rotate unwaveringly around the sun. His concern made a pleasing warmth seep through your heart, like a sun ray piercing through clouds after a gloomy day.

You dig your fingers into your palm, desperately trying to banish thoughts of him- just as you’ve been doing for the past few months.

You met Changbin before you knew he was your brother’s best friend. In the campus café, where he almost spilled his drink on you. You thought he was adorable, apologizing profusely to you, a faint pink hue tinting his cheeks. And then he bought you a cookie, three to be exact, because he didn’t know which flavor you’d prefer. A token of his remorse as he explained to you. He was a year older, and you found talking to him as natural as being with yourself.

But for some reason, your brain didn’t register that this was the Changbin your brother told you about. Until you’ve visited Han’s dorm for the first time and there he was, opening the door for you. Changbin was never yours to begin with, a reminder you continually admonish yourself with, but you still felt as if you lost him that day.

You knew it wouldn't be wrong, per se, to date him. But the potential confrontations that would unfold from it made you recoil into your hiding. Loving Changbin holds within it numerous uncertainties, and you cannot venture into the unknown, regardless of how much you yearn for it. For him.

“Yn!” a loud voice startles you, and you snap your head towards the entrance of the restaurant where you find Changbin. He’s clad in grey sweatpants and a snug black t-shirt, standing out like a sore thumb in the high-end restaurant. He didn't take the time to change, you realize, his sole focus on reaching you as quickly as possible.

"We have to go!" he says, as soon as he's in front of your table, and your date glances at you curiously.

"You do?" they ask and you chuckle nervously. "We do?" You didn’t think of an excuse as to why you needed to leave so suddenly, and you hoped Changbin did.

"Yes, come on," he urges, outstretching his hand toward you. "There is an emergency… You know, with Han, very urgent."

"Who's this? And who's Han?"

"I already told you who Han is," you roll your eyes, grabbing Changbin’s hand and rising from your seat. "Maybe if you stopped talking about yourself for a second then you'd remember."

Changbin places a couple of bills on the table, a polite smile on his face. "For the dinner", he says, before pulling you outside with him.

"What was that?" you chuckle as soon as you're out. Changbin doesn't let go of your hand as you walk to his car, and you can't find it in you to drop it.

"What?" he giggles, "did you not like my acting skills?"

"Did you have to shout my name from across the restaurant?" you playfully punch his shoulder and he feigns a wince.

"I had to be convincing," he nods solemnly, opening the door for you. His hand rests on the top of the car, ensuring you don't bump your head while getting in.

"Here," Changbin hands you a pair of slippers from the backseat, and you furrow your brows in confusion. "I assumed you'd be wearing heels and your feet are probably tired, so I brought you this," he explains, and you are suddenly thankful for the dim lighting in the car that's hiding your crimson blush.

"So, tell me, what did they do? Do I need to beat them up?" Changbin asks once more and you groan, leaning your head against the car window.

"They're so... pretentious. The only thing they care about is themselves, their career and their achievements. They even tried to downplay mine so they'd feel better about themselves."

"It's their loss honestly, for wasting a date with someone like you."

"You're the only one who thinks so," you smile sadly, trailing your fingers across your knee.

"What do you mean?" he asks, turning his body around to give you his undivided attention.

"This is my fourth bad date in a row. I think I'm just destined for horrible relationships," you try to joke, but it did weigh heavily on you. Was there something wrong in you that prompted everyone to treat you so lowly?

"You are very smart and witty and interesting. I like talking to you, especially about things you are passionate about. It's their loss for not seeing it. Doesn't mean you are any less incredible," he says, his voice filled with genuine conviction.

A surge of emotion pulses through you, your heart beating wildly in your chest like a bird fluttering its wing to break free from its cage. You've always thought Changbin was all these things as well, but you never knew he held you with the same regard.

"Thank you," you beam at him, "for this and for coming to pick me up."

"Don’t mention it," he responds with a warm smile before sudden mischief dances in his eyes. "You know what? We should go on a date right now."

"What? What are you talking about?"

"A fake date," he clarifies and your heart chips a little more at your foolish hope. "So you'd see how well you deserve to be treated."

"You don't have to do that," you shake your head. 'You shouldn't do that', you wanted to add, 'it’s hard enough to forget about you'.

"I want to," he insists, his assurance evident in his smile. He leans in, reaching over to buckle your seatbelt, bringing his face mere inches from yours. His cologne envelops you, trapping you in a web carefully woven by him. It was unfair- for him to smell this nice and not be yours.

"You look pretty," he compliments, his penetrating gaze locked with yours as the seatbelt finally clicks into place.

"Is this how you start all your dates," you chuckle, in an attempt to calm your racing heart.

"No, I'm just saying the truth," he replies simply, starting the car and resting his hand on the back of your headrest.

"So, what are you craving?" he asks, and you sigh in defeat.

"Can we have fried chicken?"

"Of course, we can," he replies with a smile, shifting the car into reverse and leaving the parking lot.

•••••••••••

You hoped your time with Changbin would be horrible, you wished you’d feel bored or uncomfortable, just so it’d cement the idea that he wasn’t the one for you. But unsurprisingly, you had an amazing time. Your stomach ached from laughing so hard throughout the night, and there was a new found lightness in your steps as you walked around a picturesque garden.

You knew that you will revisit this night countless times, that you’d sift through every detail- every time your eyes met and every time you made him smile. That it’d keep you warm on cold nights when you’re all alone.

"Here," Changbin says, handing you a plucked rose. "You deserve a bouquet but I didn’t plan on this, I’m sorry," he smiles sheepishly and you giggle, taking it out of his hands.

"Thank you," you grin happily, before taking a step forward toward him. There, you tuck the rose behind his ear, smoothing down his hair in the process.

"I’m blushing, aren’t I?" he chuckles, bringing a hand to his flushed cheeks and you gleefully nod.

"You’re matching the rose," you point out and he shrugs happily. "Pink is my color."

You admired how Changbin didn’t shy away from his emotions, embracing them without reservation. It made you feel secure, in the sense where you’d never have to second guess his words and their truthfulness.

Changbin takes out his phone to play a soft melody, before putting it in his back pocket.

"Let's dance."

"Changbin..." you trail off. It feels bittersweet to get a taste of what you could have, of what you two could be. He'll move on, surely, going on real dates while you'd still be stuck on the way he makes you feel.

"It's part of the date package, come on."

You sigh, before grabbing his hand in yours. They fit so naturally together, and you think you can easily commit the sensation to memory- the coldness of his palm and the callouses on his finger pads. With a few more holds, you're certain you could recognize his touch among a thousand others.

Changbin raises your free hand and places it on his shoulder, before holding your waist gently, swaying you from left to right.

Being with him felt like pressing on a blueish bruise, a pleasurable pain you would willingly endure to have him by your side. You're already in his arms, you told yourself. Maybe you should tune out the thoughts in your head berating you, and finally follow what your heart wants.

You suck in a deep breath, before tentatively leaning your head on his chest. He immediately brings his hand to your hair, smoothing it down gently. His chest is broad, serving as a shield for the delicate emotions flowing within him. Because Changbin is gentle with everything he does and everyone he meets. And you'd settle for this, for being his fake date if it meant experiencing his gentleness for the rest of your life.

"Can I tell you something?" you say after a while.

"Sure."

"I think this is the nicest date I've ever been on. I wish all of them were like this."

"They could be if you want to."

"What do you mean?"

"I've always liked you, yn. From the moment I’ve met you,” he confesses easily, and his words feel like the hands of an expert violinist, tugging at your vulnerable heartstrings.

He likes you, you aren't alone in this feeling, and for a second, raw happiness courses through you at this thought. But it's fleeting, like the sugar rush you'd get when you eat too much sweets. And so it naturally wears off, as the consequences of his words dawn on you.

"Changbin, we shouldn't," you shake your head vehemently and he frowns. "Why?"

"Because you're my brother's best friend." The excuse streams from your mouth instantly.

"But I'm still Changbin. Your Changbin if you'll have me," he adds softly.

"Han will find it weird, and if we don't work out then your friendship with him will become strained and-"

"Why are you thinking about everyone but yourself?" He interrupts. "Don’t you want this?"

A few silent beats pass by, and Changbin doesn't stop swaying you around, his gentle place lulling your heart to calmness, clearing the foggy thoughts in your mind.

"I do," you finally admit, and a smile lightens up his face instantly. It's so bright that it makes you second-guess the words you're about to say. "But I don't want to risk our friendship too."

"Love is a risk, I understand, I agree. But what's the alternative, yn? if it's not having you at all then I'd risk it," he drops your waist, his hands cradling your face tenderly. "You are worth the risk to me."

You’ve stopped dancing, the music long forgotten by you. "You really think so?"

"I know so."

"What if we things don't workout?"

"What if they do, hm? we can never really know until we try. And i want to try with you. Please, give us a chance?" he smiles at you, his vulnerability on full display. He's offering you his heart on a silver platter, not caring if you'll safely guard it or pierce it through, as long as it's yours.

You gaze into his warm brown eyes, before glancing at his tousled hair and the rose tucked behind his ear. And your fear doesn't matter anymore, not in the face of the man in front of you.

"You have amazing convincing skills. Have you ever considered being a diplomat?" you tease and his eyes widen slightly. "Is this a yes? are you saying yes?"

"I am," you giggle, an uncontrollable smile drawn on your lips. "And... I've always liked you too. I think Han might've suspected it because whenever I brought you up, he glared at me," you confess with a laugh, as Changbin presses a soft kiss on your wrist. Right where your pulse is. Beating wildly for him.

"He’ll have to deal with it. Now tell me, is tomorrow at 6 pm good for you?"

"What for?" you giggle, as he waltzes you around once more, a cheeky smile adorning his face.

"Our first real date, of course.”

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bigfatbimbo · 1 month

Note

I have a post sex angst idea for you (with Vox ofc !)

Imagine after you’ve been particularly cruel to Vox you get up to get water or something but he stays right where he is, still crying.

You end up having to sit back down, reassuring him that you weren’t being serious and that you do love him.

Giving him all the praise and soft kisses he could ask for.

This might be stupid but due to his huge ego he probably would get a little touchy at being degraded after a while.

thanks for listening to my insane ramblings 🙏😭🫶

warnings —mentions of smut, dom reader implied, hurt/comfort, light angst, kinda just fluffy though

a/n — I’m loosing touch with these characters. I have like one fic left in me, at best.

summary — After being a little too mean to Vox after sex, and making him cry, you have to give him loads of comfort.

Usually, you waited a little longer before getting up and leaving him on the bed. But, tonight specifically, he looked so genuinely worn out you figured it was common curtsy to offer him a glass of water. Especially after how you treated him.

He’d look so pretty, tears still leaking out of his face as he sniffled and fought to calm down from his euphoric headspace. When you kissed him on the head and told him you’d be back, he didn’t really pay attention.

Instead, he lied there halfheartedly and thought about what you’d said just moments before. You were especially mean tonight. So mean thats he’d forgotten what the initial punishment was for in the first place. But now that the ecstasy wore off, he’d was simply left with all of your cruel words flooding through his brain.

It wasn’t fair, he thought. You’d been so mean, and you’d said so many untrue things! But despite Vox not fully believing your words, the idea that you believed them was far worse. The haunting thought that you hated him, that you pitied him and that’s why you’re still here. He couldn’t stand that.

Maybe it was the mildly incoherent mindset he currently had, or maybe he was overwhelmed, or, fuck, maybe he just missed your warmth. But, for whatever reason, more tears streamed down his screen as he sat there in defeat.

When you arrived back in the room, you simply stared at Vox for a moment, taking in the view. He was still crying. You get during sex, but this long after? Something was wrong.

“Sweetie, are you okay?” You ask gently, setting the water glass down and sitting on the bed, “Did I hurt you?”

It was true, you had been particularly rough with him, but he looked further hurt than a physical sense.

He shook his head, “You, uhm,” he struggled to keep his voice steady, “Called me pathetic. And useless. You don’t really mean—“

He cuts himself off by a loud buffer and then an even louder sob. You don’t respond at first, just quietly tutting and pulling him into your chest.

“My baby,” you coo sadly, rubbing your hands up his shoulders comfortingly as he buries his screen in the space under your neck and clings onto your side, “My sweet boy, of course not. I didn’t mean any of that. You’re amazing.”

He sobbed harder at that, the shock of praise getting to him obviously. You continued to rub his aching body softly, pressing down on his tense shoulders and scratching his back.

“You took it all so well, i’m so proud of you, Vox” You pressed your lips onto the top of his screen and he looked up at you, letting out a watery whimper.

“You said you hated me,” Vox’s eyes darted down and his mouth curled back to let out another chocked sob. “You sounded like you meant it. You don’t hate me, right? Not like—“

Not like everyone else, he meant to say. Instead, he cut himself off and glanced up at you awaiting your reassurance.

Your hands fell on either side of his screen and you pressed your lips against his. “I love you more than anything in the world.” You moved to kiss his cheek, and then his chin, and then his other cheek, purposely making the kisses as unbearably wet as possible.

He let out small giggles at the sensation, “Stop it, stop it!” He pulls his face away to hide it in your chest, his tears finally slowing down.

“Well, I mean it, sweetheart. I think you’re the prettiest, smartest, most amazing, beautiful, boy on the world. I love you,” You feel his screen heat up on your collarbone and you rub his back some more.

“Thank you,” Vox spoke uncharacteristically soft, probably embarrassed from his outburst now that his mindset was clearer.

“Of course, baby,” You said, noting to go easy on him the next time you fucked. Maybe you’d be more praising too. After all, it was true. You meant it.

a/n — I think this is officially one of my last posts in this fandom. Or at least full drabbles.

I know that i’m still going to do a power bottom Velvette fic, but after that, I think i might be done!

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel smut #dom reader #inbox open #hazbin hotel vox #vox x reader #hazbin hotel fluff #vox smut #vox x you #sub vox

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thetriumphantpanda · 10 months

Text

nobody sees, nobody knows

Alright, here we are, me adding my two cents into the dbf!Joel trope which we all love so much. I've read so many incredible fics like this so hopefully mine can stand up with them all. This will be a series, so strap in for more of our favourite neighbourhood DILF.

Pairing | dbf!Joel x female reader

Summary | Back to Texas with a degree under your belt and a school girl fantasy to fuck your dad's best friend. What could go wrong?

Warnings | I mean, dbf!Joel comes with his own warning right? Other than that, swearing, alcohol consumption, age gap (Reader is 25, Joel is 36), dirty talk, and fingering.

Word Count | 3.3K

PART 2 | MAIN MASTERLIST

There was something about summer in Texas that just hit differently. The way the heat crawled on your skin from the moment you woke up to the moment you tried to sleep at night. The way your father used it as an excuse to cook primarily on the grill, regardless of the food, and the way your mother always made sure the fridge was stocked with cold drinks. The way traffic seemed to cease to exist during the high points of the day, meaning you went to the store every day at midday to buy ice cream. The haze you got from sipping cold beer by your parents’ pool which made you want to do reckless things like you’d done in New York before you realized that the beady eyes of your parents would be all over you if you tried. Reckless things like tell Joel Miller you’d wanted to fuck him for years.

Every time you’d come home from school, and he’d be there you could have sworn he’d just gotten more and more attractive. The last time you were home, for Christmas and New Year’s, you could have sworn he’d started at the gym, his biceps bulging in the arms of his fitted t-shirt, when your dad commented on it, he's chalked it down to particularly heavy lifting on the job he was working then. He’d had his hair cut in a way that made his face even more handsome and you’re pretty sure the last few times you’d been home he’d noticed how you’d flourished too.

There were moments where you��d catch his eyes as they drew themselves up your legs, or the time you decided to test your theory and wear a low-cut top and your best bra to a dinner party. His eyes had trained on your chest for most of the night, there was a moment where you’d stood up and leaned over the table to pick up the salt instead of asking him to pass it. He’d choked on his drink and your dad had slapped his back to try and help him. At least you knew he was thinking like you.

Neither of you had tried crossing the line though. Past the point of no return. You wanted him to make the first move, save yourself the embarrassment of rejection if it came, but it felt like waiting for Joel Miller to kiss you was like waiting for rain in the drought Texas was currently experiencing. Useless and disappointing. You wished sometimes that you could burrow into his brain and figure out what it was that he was really thinking about you. You suspected there would be some code of honour he was sticking to because you were his best friend’s daughter – sure it might complicate things, but you weren’t going to be back in Texas forever – what was the worst that could happen during the secret, torrid affair you’d been cooking up in your head since you arrived back from college a week ago?

“Did you hear me when I spoke to you?” Your mother’s voice pulled you from the daydream you were having whilst polishing the cutlery.

“Sorry mom, I was miles away.”

“I know!” She exclaims, “I don’t know what’s gotten into you since you came back, you’ve been away with the fairies,” She sighs, “I said, once you’ve set the cutlery out back can you help your dad with filling the fridge with the beer, please?”

You hum in agreement which is enough to send her back to the endless chopping she seems to be doing at the kitchen counter. It was just a cookout with the Millers and few other family friends to celebrate your return, but you think your mother thinks she’s catering for a garden party at the White House with the number of sides she’s preparing.

You make quick work of the rest of the cutlery, wanting to avoid any more questions about why you seem miles away all the time – you can’t exactly tell your mother it’s because you’re thinking about how Joel might eat your pussy.

“Need any help, old man?” You greet your dad in the garage, he’s on his knee’s pulling out bottles of Budweiser to stack in the fridge.

“Here, grab these and start putting them in,” He’s smiling, he’s always been an overly happy and laid-back man, “I hope we’ve got enough in.”

“How many people are you expecting?” You chuckle, taking a bottle from him to add to the growing number already stacked on the shelves.

“Probably ten or so,” Hu shrugs, “But one of those people is Tommy Miller and he’s not changed a bit since you’ve been away.”

“Between your drinks and mom’s sides we could host the entire neighborhood.” You joke.

You continue to fill the fridge up with drinks until there’s no room left. Your dad stores the leftover crates next to it for refilling throughout the evening, “Now, go and make yourself look nice, everyone’ll be here soon.”

You’d be lying if you said that you hadn’t picked your shortest and lowest cut dress for the evening. It was a pale blue colour, with pink flowers dotted about the material. It fell to your mid-thigh and you had to keep reminded yourself to kneel down instead of bending over, in case people who you didn’t want to look caught an eyeful of the scant lace covering your ass.

There are a few people milling around already, cold beers in hand, mainly some of your dad’s older friends, who have all congratulated you on graduating and then moved on to talk about mundane neighborhood gossip.

“Now, where is that smartass?” You hear from the sliding doors; it’s Tommy and he’s bounding over to you to give you a hug.

He scoops you up into a bone breaking hug, “Congratulation’s girl, your dad said you graduated top of the class!”

He’s set you down and you can see Joel standing awkwardly next to him, “He’s exaggerating, I wasn’t top, although pretty close to it,” You turn to Joel, “Hey there.” He bends down to give you a one-armed hug and a peck on the cheek.

“Good to see you back, sweetheart.”

“Good to see you too, Joel,” You chirp in response, “Where’s Sarah?”

“She’s at camp for the first part of the summer,” He explains, “Back in a couple’a weeks, she’ll be thrilled to see you again.”

“Boys!” Your dad’s booming voice interrupts your conversation, “Good to see you both!” He turns to you, “Why don’t you go and get these two some beers, I need to speak to them about fixin’ up the attic.”

You turn quietly and head for the garage. Of course, you’d become waitress at your own welcome home party. It takes no time at all for you to come back with three beers, two for the Miller brothers and one for yourself. You hand them off wordlessly, but you don’t miss how Joel grips the bottle just above your fingers, brushing against them. Of all the places for him to grab the bottle, that couldn’t be a coincidence, could it?

The rest of the evening goes by as expected. You spend most of it running around helping your mom set the food out, fetching more beers for everyone and trying to field questions from everyone about what you’re going to do in Texas with an MA in Archival Studies. You bite your tongue every time, and reply with something like, “I think I’ll probably work in an archive.”

The night is winding down, your mom already in bed having finished her wine too quickly, your dad sat outside in the quickly fading sunlight with Joel and Tommy and a few other stragglers. It fell to you to make aa start on the dishes, which is what you were currently doing. Rinsing them off over the sink before stacking them in the dishwasher, pausing long enough each time to take a sip of lukewarm beer.

“They got you tidyin’ up your own party?” You hear from behind you. It’s Joel.

“I’m the only one sober enough not to break anything.” You shrug without turning around to face him.

“Seems a little unfair if you ask me, sweetheart.”

“Well, why don’t you make yourself useful and help?” You counter, “Then I can be sat outside drinkin’ beer with you all.”

You hear his boots on the floor and then he’s next to you, reaching around to grab the pile of cutlery on the side, he opens the dishwasher further to put the cutlery in their designated tray and then stop, “Has no-one ever taught you how to stack a dishwasher?”

You pause in your rinsing to look up at him for the first time, “What do you mean?”

“This is awful sweetheart,” He chuckles, “You’ve got the bowls and plates in the wrong place – you’ll be doing three washes if you carry on like this.”

“Well, go on then, maestro, show me how to stack it.”

He’s unloading everything you’ve put in so far, apart from what you suspect he thinks was his expertly placed cutlery, and you’re watching as he’s stacking in completely differently to you. Annoyingly he’s not wrong, the way he’s doing it means you’ll likely fit everything in at once, “Can’t believe you’ve lived on your own for five years and didn’t learn how to stack a dishwasher.”

“Joel, I was in a dingy studio apartment in the ass end of New York, you think I had a dishwasher?”

“Well, consider yourself taught now, I don’t ever wanna see a dishwasher looking anything less than perfect, you hear me?”

“Loud and clear, Mr Miller.” You watch as his eyebrows raise at your new greeting, oh. He liked that.

He picks up your almost empty beer bottle and hands it to you, “Go on, down the rest,” He’s grinning, “Then go and sit down and I’ll get you a fresh one.”

You decide to push it a little further, “Yes, sir.” You watch as he swallows deeply at your words before you’re brushing past him, far too close than necessary to go and sit down.

It’s another hour of sitting around in the garden before everyone else is gone – Tommy is finishing off his beer and telling Joel he’ll be heading to his to crash.

“I’m going to call it a night too,” Your dad says, “Stay and finish your drink though Joel, there’s no rush, I’m sure this one can keep you company with her stories from New York.”

And then you’re alone with him, finally. He’s taking a long drink from his beer bottle, which you mirror, realizing suddenly that you didn’t eat much, and you’ve drunk far more than you probably should. You’re not drunk, but there’s a pleasant buzz through your body that’s making your eyelids a little heavy.

When the light goes off in your parents’ room, you figure it’s safe, “I’ve seen you staring at me, you know.”

He doesn’t miss a beat, “You make it hard not to, sweetheart.”

“Do you want me, Joel?” You don’t know where you’ve come from all of a sudden, but this confident girl isn’t someone you recognize.

“It ain’t a question of wantin’ you sweetheart, it’s a question of doin’ the right thing.” You watch as he rubs his hand over his forehead in frustration.

“But you do,” You push him, “Want me?”

“Course I do,” He’s swallowing thickly again, just like he did in the kitchen, “But I can’t have you.”

“Says who?” You pry.

“Says the fact that I’m one’a your dad’s best friends, not to mention far too old for you.” He’s looking at you and taking another big drink from his bottle, like if he finishes, he can leave you alone.

“No-one has to know,” You shrug, “Could be our little secret?”

“You been readin’ too many of them romance novels,” He snorts, “It don’t work like that, if they find out they’ll fucking kill me.” He’s tilting his head to the window of your parents’ room.

You stand from your seat opposite him, walking around the table to stop just in front of Joel, “Come on Joel, have a little fun for once.”

There’s a moment where you can see the cogs whirring in his brain, trying to weigh up being shot for touching his best friend’s little girl and finally satisfying the craving he’d wanted for a while now. Then, he’s putting his bottle down on the floor next to the chair he’s sat in. You watch closely as he shifts his position to sit more towards the edge of the chair, before one of his hands reaches out to grip the back of your thigh, just above the crease of your knee.

“You’ll be the death of me,” He mumbles before he looks up at you, “C’mere.”

He’s pulling gently on your leg as he shifts back in the seat, guiding you so your hips are straddling his. You try not to press yourself too fully into him just yet, letting your clothed heat rest above his lap. One of his arms comes to wrap around the back of your waist, the other tangling in your hair at the back of your head whilst he looks at you with eyes that say he wants to devour you.

“You gonna kiss me, Mr Miller?” You ask, innocently.

“Oh darlin’, I’m gonna do so much more than that.”

His head is tilting to the side and looking up at you from your higher ground, perched on his lap. Then his lips are on yours and God all those years of longing were worth it. They’re pressed tentatively against your own, but you can feel they’re slightly chapped. His hand resting in your hair grips a little tighter and he’s moving your head slightly so that when he opens his mouth against yours it’s the easiest thing for you to open yours right back and let his tongue into your mouth.

You let out a gasp, swallowed into his own mouth when his hands drop back to your thighs before they’re trailing up the small skirt of your dress to cup the cheeks of your ass, “You wear this for me?” He pulls away, speaking before he’s trailing his lips along your jawline, “Thought you’d get me worked up in this tiny little thing, naughty girl?”

“It worked, didn’t it?”

He huffs a breath out of his nose as if to say, of course it did. He’s trailing his hot mouth down your neck now, dragging his teeth along your skin before licking with his tongue to soothe any red marks he might leave. Your head is thrown back as his hands drag you down so you’re sitting flush against him. You can’t help but notice the bulge in his jeans when your clothed pussy makes contact with him.

You’re whining as his hands are on your hips under your dress, the hot skin of his hands setting fire to you, “What do you want, pretty girl?” He asks, his tongue trailing down to the valley between your tits.

“Fingers,” You rasp, “Make me come with your fingers Joel.”

He lets out a low chuckle against your skin, “Needy little thing, already beggin’ me to finger fuck her.”

But he’s already obliging your request, one of his hands is moving down from your hip to the front of your panties, running his thumb over the material from top to bottom, “God, I can feel how wet you are already,” You look down and he’s grinning, “I’m gonna take these off, sweetheart, but you gotta promise to keep quiet okay?”

You nod in agreement before you’re lifting your hips up, just enough for Joel to hook his fingers in the waistband of your underwear and pull them down enough so his hands can touch you. He mimics the same movement he’d done over the material, this time his fingers touching the bare skin of you seam and he’s groaning when he feels the slick gathered near your tight hole.

“God, you really are wet, aren’t ya?” He chuckles, a flush creeping over your cheeks, “Ain’t nothing to be embarrassed about sweetheart,” He reassures, “Means I’m doin’ somethin’ right.”

You feel one of his thick fingers slip inside you, just a little, before he’s dragging the slick he’s gathered up to run light touches over your clit. You bite down on your lip to keep you from crying out into the dark, hips bucking into his hand to try and get more friction from his fingers. He takes the hint and is pressing his finger more firmly into your bundle of nerves and it’s becoming increasingly more difficult to keep quiet.

When Joel’s hand drops from your clit you almost cry from frustration, put then he’s sinking two of his fingers straight into your soaking pussy and the relief is palpable. He��s moving them in and out of you, curling them in just the right way that has your hips moving in time with him, literally fucking yourself on his fingers. You let your head fall into the crook of his neck, placing kisses to his skin as you ride his fingers.

“This what you wanted, pretty girl?” He asks, his free hand coming to cup the back of your head against his neck, at least this way you could make some noise – testing out your theory you let out a throaty moan, listening carefully as his skin muffles most of the sound.

“I need… god Joel, my clit, please.”

With his fingers still buried inside you, working you to the edge, his thumb moves to your clit, resuming the circles his finger had been drawing over it before, “I can feel your pussy gettin’ tight around my fingers,” He’s turned his head so it’s buried in the hair at the side of your head, “You gonna come for me, sweetheart?”

You push back from him a little, looking down between your bodies where you can see his hand working you and that’s really all it takes. Your legs are shaking and you’re biting down on your lip hard enough that you can taste blood as pleasure bursts through you – not even you had made yourself come like this. Ever. Joel’s fingers have stilled inside you, but he’s still tracing your clit with gentle movements of his thumb, reveling in the way you jerk through the aftershocks of your orgasm.

“Did so well for me, pretty girl.” He coos at you once he’s pulled his hand from your pussy.

You’ve collapsed onto his chest to catch your breath, but you’re already subconsciously grinding your hips into his, God you want more. You’re about to reach for his belt when you can feel something vibrating in the pocket of his jeans.

He’s mumbling an apology, lifting you just enough to fish his phone from his pocket. He answers without looking at who is calling. You can hear Tommy’s voice through the phone from your place, draped over Joel’s lap.

“You just turn it to the side, jackass,” Joel is mumbling in answer to Tommy’s question on how to work his shower, “You’ve used it a million times,” Tommy say’s something you can quite make out, “No, not that one, the one underneath it,” Joel is sighing, “You were not this drunk when you left, if I find you’ve finished the good whiskey I’m gonna kill you,” Another sigh to a question you couldn’t quite hear, “Fine, I’ll be there in a minute.”

Disappointment is pooling in your stomach. You don’t want him to go, not when there’s so much unfinished business here, “I gotta go, sweetheart.” He’s mumbling, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips.

“But what about this?” You ask, reaching between you to cup his cock through his jeans, “Let me help you.”

His hand is gripping your wrist, “I would love nothin’ more, but I gotta go before Tommy floods my house,” Another kiss to your lips, “Next time.”

“You want to do this again?” You ask, almost surprised.

He takes the hand that had been buried in your pussy not minutes before, lifting the fingers he’d fucked you with to his mouth before sucking them right in front of your face, “Now I’ve gotta taste for you, sweetheart?” He raises an eyebrow, “Of course I wanna do this again.”

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rashomonss · 2 months

Note

Hello! I was wondering if you could pair Simeon with the dumbification prompt for the Valentines Treat event 🥰 thank you for taking the time to read! I love your stories btw <3

hello hello!! so sorry I’m getting to your request so late! I planned on getting the valentines requests in a lot sooner but i ended up getting into a car accident and this past week was absolutely insane haha but i’m good now

but that’s besides the point! ofc you can and thank you sm! I’m so glad you enjoy my work, i hope you enjoy this, i enjoyed writing it. tbh I always love writing for simeon he’s one of my favs haha. anyway love ya! (♡ˊ͈ ꒳ ˋ͈)

Warning: NSFW (read at your own discretion) / gender neutral

“my cute little slut”

“What was that my love?” Simeon said with a smile.

No coherent response came from your lips, just moans and mewls of his name. Babbles or things here could be heard there as he made you finish for the hundredth time tonight.

Continuous tears fell from your eyes and you tried to think just how you got into this situation. However it was a bit difficult to think when Simeon’s cock was filling every inch of you.

“Shh it’s okay, don’t even try to bother with thinking love, I’ll just fuck all those thoughts out of your pretty little head.” Simeon smiled.

Though his voice did not match his pace whatsoever.

It was rough and deep, he made sure to hit all of your favorite spots and he practically knew your body like the back of his hand.

“Look at you, aw what a precious little thing for me. You’re taking me so well MC” Simeon said softly in your ear as his fingers worked at pinching and massaging your nipples. You were getting close, he could feel it.

It wasn’t that hard to not notice the way you would clench around his cock each time you came. Though he loved that about you. Your pretty little hole belonged to no one but him.

And, no one but him could make you feel this way.

No one but him could take away all your worries and leave you a dumb fucking babbling mess on his cock.

That was a luxury he alone had, and boy did he love it.

You had come to visit him early in the afternoon at Purgatory Hall. Luke and Solomon went out to buy dinner so Simeon was alone for a while.

Because of this you figured he was the best to vent to about your current troubles.

He understood from the moment he saw you that something was wrong, and when you explained to him how your week just continued to get worse he listened intently and gave the best advice he could.

However he also explained that he would be there for you in any way he could…and of course one thing led to another and next thing you knew you were naked on his bed with your face down in the pillow and your ass in the air.

Simon started out slow and steady making sure to tease you just a bit. He’d bring you close to an orgasm then stop and continue at a slow pace again.

After a good amount of time it drove you absolutely insane to the point you began squirming and begging him to just fuck your brains out.

So, ask and you shall receive.

Simeon wasn’t gentle in the slightest after you spoke. He grabbed your hips and roughly pounded into you until he was satisfied. You came at least twice before he finally finished in you.

That didn’t stop him though. After that he flipped you around on your back to face him and teased you as he continued to pound into you, filling you with his cock.

“You’re taking all of my cock in your tight hole so well, only I can make you feel this good huh love?” Simeon said with a chuckle.

You didn’t respond as he continued talking, all that left your mouth was moans of his name and how it was too much. He in turn noticed and began to slow down with each thrust until you noticed.

“-C”

“MC”

“MC are you listening to me?” Simeon asked with a teasing smirk, his voice now finally reaching you. He had been talking to you for a bit but you never responded so he finally stopped causing you to squirm and beg for him to move again.

“’m listening I swear” you cried out.

“Really what did I say then?” He chucked. His dick throbbed inside of you and you tried to move your hips for any type of friction since he refused to grant you any, but it was no use, Simeon just pinned down your hips with a smile.

When you didn’t respond he laughed and pulled completely out of you.

A whine was about to leave your mouth again as you were getting prepared to beg, but his cock returned inside you in less than a minute causing a gasp to leave your mouth instead; your back arched and your hips buckled into him as you came just from how deep and harsh he entered.

“You’re just a dumb little slut for my cock aren’t you?”

His words had you tightening around his dick in an instant. Out of everyone in the Devildom you never expected an angle to say something that dirty to you. It shocked you but you loved every moment of it, he could tell.

“Uh huh” you cried as you gripped the sheets beneath you.

“Who’s the only one who can make you feel this good?” He said, followed by another hard thrust.

“You” you cried softly.

“I can’t hear you love”

“You- AH…!”

Before you could even string together a sentence he made you come again. Fresh tears left your eyes as he rode you through your orgasm straight into another one.

“Don’t stress with anything else for today my love, just let me fuck you till all you can think about is me and me alone” Simeon said as another orgasm ripped through your body.

You didn’t bother answering him, besides you couldn’t even really understand what he was saying. Your mind went blank as he continued fucking you and even going so far as to whisper a few praises and a few degrading comments with each thrust.

Orgasm after orgasm he had you remember just who’s cock you were coming on.

After all his name should be the only thing you remember in that fucked out little head of yours.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #omswd #obey me smut #obey me simeon #obey me simeon x reader #obey me simeon smut #rashomonss sweet valentines treat

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writingstoraes · 11 months

Text

three words, eight letters 💌

pairing: charles leclerc/fem!reader

type: written imagine

word count: 4.01k (got carried away)

notes: ok ik there are several of this prompt here but i wanted to give it a whirl :]] also in a slump with my ig imagines so i figured i should finish this since its been a draft for such a looong time lolol no warnings, this is just very fluff-coded!

about: the three times charles almost said "i love you," and the one time he finally did.

Charles wanted to tell you the three aching words he's stored in containment. All he wanted was the right time and the perfect moment, but for the love of his and his alone, he just cannot find it.

He had been racking his brain on how to tell you - because when he looks at you, it's like those three words are just going to explode out of his chest. Every time you smile, laugh, or even breathe in his direction, he realizes just how smitten he was for you. He thought about just saying it out of the blue, unplanned but also when the time felt right. But he also thought about going about it as if it were a proposal because you deserve nothing less than the best he can give.

There were times he thought it was too early to say.

You had just been dating a few months in, and though he felt strongly for you and he did love you, he didn't want to say it too fast or too early out of the fear that it might drive you away.

It's no secret Charles was no chef. He gets a good laugh when other drivers tease him about it but he doesn't pay it any mind. Some people are just good at other things, like how he sucks at cooking but can drive a car that goes as fast as lightning. It is also no secret that he wanted to impress you with skills other than driving - so he doesn't know what entered his mind when he realizes he's on his way to the supermarket as he decides to try and cook dinner.

He scoured the internet for an easy recipe, finally smiling to himself when he finds a simple pasta dish he thinks he can do. To an average person, the dish was really easy to make. So simple that an unsupervised child could follow it. Directions were clear and the website had pictures - he just needs to make a simple sauce, cook some pasta, and grate some cheese. He tells himself nothing could go wrong, what he was about to cook was absolutely just elementary. But he's not an average person, he was Charles, and he is a terrible cook through and through.

Having convinced himself he could cook something so simple, he had forgotten how he messed everything up. He's pretty sure he blacked out, because when he came to his senses, the pasta was overcooked, and the sauce mysteriously evaporated into the air so the pan was just red drops with charred pieces of cheese on the side. He tried to taste it, and he deems it inedible. He was so occupied with cooking it had slipped out of his mind that you were coming over, so the next thing he hears is the sound of your soft knock on his door.

The kitchen was an absolute mess and the apron he wore was extremely dirty — he almost thought about pretending he wasn't home and not answering the door. Of course, he doesn't do that, so he lets you in and the first thing you smell, is cheese.

"Were you cooking?" was the first thing you ask him.

He didn't answer, instead, he planted a chaste kiss on your lips and hurriedly walked back to the kitchen.

He had expected you to laugh once you saw the mess he made by trying to cook just to impress you, but surprisingly, no chuckle erupted out of you.

"Sorry," he says softly, taking off his apron and quickly cleaning up the pots and the bowls he used up.

"I wanted to cook you dinner. I found this recipe online and I thought it was easy," he sighs. "Cooking absolutely hates me. You're okay with getting takeout for now?"

He really did expect you to laugh.

But the second sentence that came out of your mouth: "I'll help you clean up."

It didn't take a lot of time to clean everything up. Thanks to Charles' inability to measure things, he had a ton of extra ingredients, and since he seemed to really like the dish he aspired to cook, you decide to make it for him.

Charles sat at the counter watching you calmly cook the recipe he'd intended to accomplish, your hair parted to the side while you wear the ridiculously messy apron he had worn earlier. He watches you cook the pasta and the sauce at the same time, able to keep your eye on both without neglecting the other. To your defense — the recipe really was easy. But Charles didn't seem to think so, which was why he was sitting on the counter with heart-shaped eyes.

"See, this is what it should look like when the pasta is done cooking," you hold up a piece, cutting it in the middle to show Charles it has cooked through.

"It helps if you check it from time to time if you're not sure. For the sauce, I think you just had your heat on a little too high, but that's okay — you can do it right next time." you smile softly at him, eyes squinting before you shift your attention back to the pan.

Charles had tried cooking before. But up to this day, you were the only one patient enough to actually teach him how. And it didn't help that you looked so beautiful while doing so; hair parted to the side, apron hanging a bit loose on your body, and a smile so captivating it blinds him a little. You weren't perfect, you did laugh at him eventually, but not before guiding him through the recipe he'd chosen. And quite surprisingly, he could cook this same exact dish properly for Arthur next week.

It was clear Charles was no help in the kitchen, so he resorts to hugging you from behind, head resting on your shoulder, breathing slow and steady. He gets a whiff of your shampoo and your perfume he absolutely loved. Your hands soon make their way on top of his that rested on your stomach, thumb rubbing circles on his. Charles was pretty sure you could feel him smile widely behind you, a thought he chooses to ignore because he didn't care anyway, he was at his happiest.

"I lo—" he starts, catching himself off-guard. For a moment, time stops; and he's not sure what to say next. He thought it was too early, but he wanted to say it.

"I love pasta, you know that?" Charles continues, trying to save whatever he's left with. Thankfully, you didn't notice his desperate attempt to cover his supposed mistake.

He tells himself: maybe next time.

Charles' mother had been pestering him for a long time about meeting you. Every time he came home, he was greeted with, "When am I going to meet your girlfriend?"

Even his brothers, Lorenzo and Arthur, were all so ecstatic about meeting you properly for the first time. The two see you around the track for brief periods of time, but in their defense, you haven't introduced yourself properly to Charles' family. It didn't help that Charles himself talked about you like you hung the moon and stars, and made the universe using your own bare hands, because his whole family, mother and brothers aside, all wanted to meet you.

The two of you were finally headed to Charles' childhood home, finally about to meet his entire family. And the word entire was an understatement because everybody was there. From aunts, cousins, and his nieces and nephews, all of them were anticipating your arrival. A lump forms in your throat just by the thought, but you try to battle it with a deep breath as you fixate your eyes on the mirror.

"Do you think they're going to look at this dress and think it's too revealing? Or too short?" you shout from the closet, straightening out the creases of the crisp white dress you were wearing.

Charles enters the room and he swears he could have just died right then and there. How you manage to take his breath away with minimal effort remained a mystery to him.

"I think..." he drags the second word. "I think they are going to be completely in love with you."

"Hopefully not in the same way I am, because I don't plan on sharing you." he softly chuckles, giving you a reassuring smile.

Technically he had said the l word already but to him, it didn't count, only because he didn't say it to you directly.

An hour into meeting you, the entirety of Charles' family adored you wholeheartedly. He didn't want to give credit to himself but he knew they would find no reason to not love you, though he reminds himself to tell you he told you so when you get some time alone together later. He could listen to his family members praise you all day. You had managed to meet each and every one of his side of the family present at the dinner and Charles could not help but admire how carefree you were at interacting with people he held close to his heart. His mom could not stop raving about how great you were and kept asking why he did not introduce you earlier that it makes her slightly mad, which was followed by a hearty laugh and an assurance that she loved you to bits.

You just managed to dazzle and charm every person you talked to. His brothers adored you and you managed to get along so well with them even if your most apparent common denominator with them was racing. His aunts could not stop telling Charles how beautiful you were and how you seemed to be so kind and fit so well with him. They were already asking Charles when's the next time you visit and you haven't even left his home yet. For some odd reason, you got along well with his uncles, too.

But the cherry on top, the last straw, and the tipping point that tugged the heaviest on the strings of Charles' heart were seeing you with his nieces and nephews. He was fond of children, gleeful every time he sees one on the paddock, especially when they are clad in colors of red and yellow, his team's staple color scheme. However, he never knew how disastrous it would be for him to see you with children.

There you sat on the patio, his niece behind you as she messily tried to braid your hair. You had a big smile on your face, laughing at the somewhat theatrical act his other nephew was performing in front of you. In your hands was a glass cup with gelato and a small spoon, raising the spoon occasionally to feed the little girl tying your hair. His lips slowly form a smile and he feels his chest was bound to explode any time soon. He stood there and realized that he was completely, utterly, and irrevocably in love with all that you are. In other words, he was down bad, and he wouldn't even dare deny it.

After the festivities of getting to know each member of his family, you and Charles were finally given time alone in the kitchen. Everyone else was occupied setting the table and fixing everything up for dinner. You were part of it though, he just found you getting the pies in the oven after you volunteered to do so.

"I told you so," he says, slightly taking you by surprise, not enough you drop the pies though.

You turn to him with a sheepish smile, "Told me what?"

"That they would love you," he replies.

"Well, I am very loveable. Can't blame them."

"I know you are. That's why I lov-" he transitions into telling you what might be one of the most important things he's ever going to say in his life.

"Charles, dinner's ready!" Arthur calls out, cutting his train of thought. The two of you shift your gaze to the dining area, seeing Arthur and Lorenzo waiting for the two of you.

That's why I love you. That was what he wanted to say.

Charles sighs, telling himself that maybe getting cut off was a sign that this was not the right time. He'd repeat himself, but he thinks there are other times when he could tell you he loved you without interruptions.

"What were you saying?" you ask, not wanting to hang him out to dry.

"Oh. I said I know you're loveable. That's why I love seeing you charm every single member of my family."

Charles was not having the best day. His own team had botched his home race for him once again and on top of that, he had gotten a 3-place grid penalty in Monaco. Don't get him wrong, he was ecstatic to be home. The warm welcome of the fans was unbeatable. Banners, posters, and the Monaco flag waved around the streets of Monte Carlo.

This season has not been good to him so far. So just once, he wishes to catch a break.

The two of you were walking around the paddock as Charles was headed to the Ferrari motorhome to prepare for the race. His hand was on your waist as he guided you in the sea of people. The track was entirely at capacity - engineers, celebrities, VIPs, reporters, you name it. A few meters from the garage, a reporter from a well-known sports channel calls his attention.

It was routine, and Charles was used to it. You were standing not too close beside the cameraman, just watching Charles answer the questions he was asked. The reporter's inquiries were the usual, he had asked how Charles felt about the penalty, how he thinks the car will perform, what upgrades Ferrari is planning on implementing, and all the likes. You watch intently, giving Charles a small smile every time his gaze went your way.

Though the reporter fixated on Charles' "disappointing home race", his words, Charles knew how to handle the questions and answered them composed and professionally. After all, he has been doing this for quite some time. Deep down, it stirred you slightly as it seemed like the reporter was only recognizing the lapses on Charles' side and insinuating that it was entirely his fault.

You tried to pay it no mind until he makes a passing careless and offensive commentary that you could not just let pass.

"I guess some fans were right - monegasques today have nothing to look forward to. Wonder how they feel when their only driver is not only in a horrible car but is tussling with being nothing special."

Nothing special.

Nothing to look forward to.

Something in your ears rang and your vision went dark. You could see Charles' face drop from where you were standing and your heart absolutely broke for him. He proceeds to nod his head toward the cameraman and made haste and you did not hesitate to follow him right away. If you felt distraught and angered after that comment, you wonder just how he felt after hearing it, and at his home race, nonetheless.

"Charles, wait," you jog slightly, seeing as his pace was a lot faster than you. You could tell he just wanted to get out of there. You reach for his hand, tightly grasping it and he stops walking.

"I'm sorry you had to hear that," he says lowly, upset written on his face.

"Why are you sorry? It's his fault. He was offensive and careless. He humiliated you and worse, what he was saying was not true."

"C'est bon." It's okay. You two were finally at the garage, a little far from the reporter. Deep down, though Charles wanted to at least defend himself, he feels all the energy he has left had been sucked out of his body.

"No, it's not. He doesn't know what he's saying. I don't want to let him get away with that, he can't just go around telling people things like that. You may be too nice to tell him off but I'm not."

"You don't deserve this," you say with conviction, walking away from the garage and prepared to give the reporter a piece of your mind.

You don't plan to cause a scene, you knew better than that. You weren't going to shout or curse, but you wanted to get your point across. Soon after Charles follows you, clearly trying to stop you but was too late when he saw you already talking to the reporter. He had no choice but to walk closer to you, grasping on what you were saying.

Your voice wasn’t loud. From where he was standing, he could see how calm and composed you were while you gave the reporter the lecture he was probably not expecting. The track was fairly busy and noisy. You could hear engines starting, and conversations of people he doesn’t know, which caused his inability to understand and hear what you were saying.

He just stood there - watching you defend him from the asshole of an interviewer, your hands making small gestures for emphasis. The reporter’s face slowly displayed guilt and resentment as if he was clearly affected by whatever it is you said. Soon, the noise around him subsided and the only thing he was able to hear was the last thing you told the reporter.

“I don’t ever want to hear you talk like that about Charles ever again. If you’re only going to disrespect one of the most hard-working people I know, better to not approach him in the slightest. He did not pour blood, sweat, and tears into this sport just for you to utter those words to him.”

Your voice remained soft but it was steady. You turned your heel against the reporter and a cameraman who was clearly surprised by what he just witnessed. You walk back to him, giving him a small smile.

He wanted to just stand there and stare at you. No one has ever done that for him before. He had his fair share of disrespectful interviewers and questions that downright offended every fiber of his being but he always chose to not pay it any mind. It did not help that you were the kindest person he knew — so seeing you decide right away to defend him like that just made him feel all sorts of things.

The two of you proceed to walk back to the Ferrari garage, your hand tightly grasped by Charles. At the time, he desperately wanted to embrace you and whisper just how much he loved you. He wanted to drag you to a discreet corner and just hold your face while he tells you the three words he’d been keeping to himself.

But he remained frozen in awe of you, and so he fails to tell you once again.

“Can I-” Charles starts, trying his best to get up from the couch.

“I already told you. The answer is no,” you reply firmly, shifting your gaze to the man with the slightly swollen cheek.

He huffs a little bit loudly, wanting to show his disappointment.

“Baby, the doctor said no strenuous activities. You just had your wisdom tooth extracted, so no, you can’t go skiing with Joris.” you say as you walk toward the couch, fluffing the pillow his head rested on and putting a soft blanket on top of him.

“Please just rest. You lie down right where you are and I will be preparing dinner soon. I just have to finish something first.”

“My favorite?” he asks, putting on the sweet tone you were always soft for.

“Anything for you, my patient.” you smile, planting a kiss on his forehead.

“Okay. I’ll rest,” he sighs, adjusting himself on the couch to face sideways. “You take care of me so well.”

Charles was under a lot of painkillers. His dentist appointment had been rescheduled hundreds of times as he claims to be too “busy” to get his wisdom tooth extracted. If it weren’t for your incessant nagging because he was already in pain, he probably wouldn’t have pushed through with it. He tried his best to look tough in front of you, but as someone who drove cars that are as fast as lightning, you could tell he was nervous.

The doctor had to reassure him that there would be anesthesia plus painkillers to combat the pain he would be feeling after. After finding out he was medically allowed to eat a ton of ice cream after the procedure, he was more than happy to oblige.

However, the combination of Charles, anesthesia that’s wearing off, plus painkillers is not equal to a drowsy Charles. He had more energy than usual and was naughtier than normal. In other words, he was hyper. He was not muttering nonsense like the famous wisdom tooth aftermath videos on YouTube nor did he want to sleep all day. He wanted to do so many things he was about to get overstimulated. So no matter how weak in the knees Charles usually made you nor how you always give in when he asks you for something, skiing and going to the gym for a heavy workout after he just had his tooth extracted were just things you cannot say yes to.

Not long after, the ever so fueled with energy of a boyfriend you had was deep in slumber on the couch. He probably tired himself out from listing a thousand reasons why you have to let him go with Joris and his friends today. He was ceaseless, after all. His lower body was covered with the blanket that you put on him earlier, chest slowly heaving up and down, mouth slightly apart, and lightly snoring.

He looked so peaceful. For a while, you just sat beside him and went on to study the features of his face. The pointed nose, the tiny freckles that are most evident when the sun hits them, and the eyes that seem to contain galaxies and universes in it.

“I know you’re staring, chérie,” he quietly says, eyes still closed.

“No. I’m just checking to see if your face is still swollen.” you reply, playfully rolling your eyes at him.

“Not swollen. Just say you’re looking for an excuse to study my beautiful face.” he teases, shifting himself so he’s now in a seated position.

“That’s the anesthesia talking, Charlie,”

“Wore off already.”

“Fine, I was staring. You’re so pretty, how could I not?” you say, shrugging your shoulders before standing up to prepare dinner.

“I love you.” Charles says before you could even move away far from the couch where he was seated.

I love you.

You stop in your tracks, your back still facing the Monegasque who was clearly waiting for a response yet slightly relieved he told you what he had been wanting to say for a while now.

“I already know what’s going through your mind,” he says, lightly laughing. “This is not the painkillers nor the anesthesia talking. I’d spent so much time debating on when to tell you.”

“So many accidental “I love you’s” thrown away. Figured there’s never a right time. I love you every single day so why wait for a perfect moment?”

“I love you. So so much.” he repeats.

You turn to him with a smile you can’t contain, walking over to him and engulfing him in what seemed to be the tightest hug you’d ever given anybody.

“I hope you know I’m still saying no to the skiing.” you laugh.

Charles chuckles, and you could feel the vibrations of his laughter from his chest. His grip on you only tightens, sighing in relief.

“That’s okay. I’d rather be with you anyway.” he says, squeezing you once more before breaking away from your embrace.

“Hmm, swaying me with pretty words, Leclerc?” you raise a brow.

“Never!” Charles smiles sheepishly as he puts both his hands up in defense.

“For what it’s worth — though you’re like a child hopped up on sugar earlier, I love you too.”

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

tagging: @slytherheign <3

notes: i think this is my first time writing something this long! i also have a 3.5k word work in progress but i cant find the will to finish it lol very angsty though!

thank u sm for reading and lmk what u think hehe <3 also pls send requests for ig imagines for charles! will try to do it as soon as i can!

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jinnie-ret · 7 months

Note

chan getting a call from 9th member reader, its late and hes still in the studio. he hears readers quiet voice telling him that theres someone following her as she walks back to the dorms from a late night solo dance practice session. chan has that Protective streak that makes him Panic the moment he thought something was wrong with how they were speaking into the phone so to find out they were in genuine danger and not just scared because there was a spider?? i just know that man is Terrifying to anyone who puts his members in danger, especially their only female member knowing how dangerous the world is for women

night stalker

bang chan x ninth member!reader (platonic)

genre: angst

content warnings: stalking, violence

word count: 1.1k

summary: chan does his best to save you in time after you call him in a panic about someone following you late at night.

Hi! Sorry it's late but I hope that this fits the vibe you wanted! I ended up writing it as a platonic relationship but it is still a Chan focus x reader!

As always, like, reblog if you enjoyed, and my asks are open for any requests you may have. And let me know if you'd like to be tagged when I post :)

BANG CHAN'S MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

Chan was a leader through and through. The leader of Stray Kids. A protector to his kids. Being the oldest member too, as well as being the eldest of his siblings, gave him these instinctual habits to always check up on his members. So when he got a call from you, at 1am, scared out of your mind, his brain went into overdrive. One, because the way your voice shook, and two, because he didn't know you were walking back to the dorms, alone and in the dark.

"Hey, Chan? I-I think there's someone following me..." you whispered into the phone, your hand shaking as you did your best to maintain your pace of walking.

Being the only female member of the group, and being the youngest, Chan couldn't help but look after you in a slightly different way to the other members. Of course, he loved all of you the same, but unfortunately there were differences in being a female idolised figure. The sexualising comments... he hated how it came with you being a girl. And he knew, that the fear of someone following you late at night, would have come true eventually. He just didn't prepare himself for how he'd feel when it happened.

"Y/Nnie? It's 1am... where are you? Talk to me," Chan rushed out his words, face frozen in horror as he pushed himself back in his desk chair and started grabbing his belongings to leave and find you.

To save you.

"They're definitely following me... shit. I'm near those 24 hour convenience shops," you did your best to inform Chan of your surroundings, despite the pounding of your own heartbeat overwhelming your senses when you realised your paranoia had struck gold this time because you were right to be scared.

One pair of footsteps followed yours.

"Ok, listen to me, Y/Nnie, stay there, I'll come and meet you and I'll take you home, yeah?" Chan rushed out of the company, speed walking his way along the route to where the road of convenience shops.

"No, no, I can't just stay where I am... what if something happens? I'm scared, Channie," your voice broke as you did your best to keep a hushed volume.

"I know you're scared sweetheart, but I'm on my way, just stay on the phone," Chan spoke through his slightly heavier breaths, doing his best to get to you ASAP.

"I'm going into a shop, I don't want to be outside anymore, I'm scared if something will happen to me," you rambled, the ding of the chimes on the door heard by Chan.

"Ok, tell me where you are, can you do that for me?" Chan reassuringly asked.

"I'm, in that blue shop, you know the one with the dodgy neon light?" you tried to calm yourself down, beginning your path of going up and down the aisles, but the chimes were heard once again, "they're here. They followed me in."

"I'm about 3 minutes away, just stay on the line, it's ok, it will all be ok, is there anyone else in the shop, Y/N?" Chan spoke firmly, wanting you to know he was close by.

"N-no, just an elderly cashier, but she wouldn't be able to help if-"

"There will be no if, Y/N, don't finish that sentence sweetheart, I'm nearly there," Chan cut you off, maybe because he didn't want you to take your mind to that place, or maybe because he didn't want to be in that place either.

"Ok, please hurry I'm - hey! Get off of me!" your whispers turned into shouts as you were grabbed and winded by the punch of your night time stalker.

"Y/N! Talk to me! What's happening?" Chan's fast footsteps pounding against the concrete roads would have been heard by you if it weren't for your phone's abandoned spot on the ground.

Your stalker said nothing, yet had clear intentions as he hauled you into a free standing shelf of jars of cooking sauces. And your body took it with you to the ground as several of them smashed.

"Ahhh!" your shout of pain was heard before your body went flying.

"Y/N?!? Shit, I'm nearly there, I can see the shop from here!" Chan's words speedily echoed into the night.

Your attacker fled. Like the true coward he was. Yet you were thankful for your saviour that entered the shop moments after.

"Y/N??"

It took you a moment to realise that it was his voice playing out in real life, and no longer over the phone.

You groaned as you sat up, crawling away from the smashed glass behind you.

"Y/N! It's ok I've got you, I'm here now sweetheart, I'm sorry, I should have got here sooner..." Chan fussed over you, lifting you into his arms and checking you over as you held your stomach and stood in wobbly feet.

"Home, want to go home," you cried out, but no tears left your eyes, you were just feeling overwhelmed and in so much pain.

"I know, I know, I texted our manager to meet near us in a car, we'll get you home," he hushed you, supporting your weight as you left the shop.

"Where? Are they here? Are they close?" you panicked, not wanting to be waiting around in the open any longer than you needed to be.

"It's ok, calm down, I've got you, yeah? The car is over there," he guided you into the back of the car and sat with you, dealing with explaining things to the manager as the drive home began.

"How badly are you hurt? Let me see," Chan pushed your hair back out of your face, looking for any trades of pain which were so clearly written amongst your features.

"My back and my stomach, it'll probably just bruise though..." you winced, head resting against the seat of the car.

"Do you think you'll need the hospital?" Chan worriedly asked.

"No, but... I think I'll need a break... maybe... I don't know I just need to get my head around this, oppa," you leant against him, reveling in the comfort that not only his presence brought you, but the soothing circles he rubbed into your shoulder.

"Ok, ok, we can do that, we'll take all the time you need. I'll get you straight to bed and I'll explain it all to the members, don't worry, ok, I've got you," Chan laid out his thoughts, his priority right now being you. Everything else that came later he would deal with. He didn't want to put you under anymore stress than the current experience you just had. It was only fair that way, he thought.

tagged: @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @backintomykpopphaseagain @hannahhbahng @sakufilms

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eveningepiphany · 8 months

Text

welcome to the final show | H.S, part 4

my masterlist!

summary: suddenly it’s not just you and harry anymore, and not only do the general media want an explanation, but so do your friends and family. however, the two of you are only just figuring things out yourselves.

warnings: paparazzi, anxiety surrounding leaked images, fluff, comforting, confessions, make out session, sexual content!

a/n: no because i am so thrilled for you all to read this. these two are so much fun to write about. I hope you enjoy <3

(I was on the fence about including smut, but I decided i wanted to! if that’s not something you want to read, a little warning will come up when it’s about to begin. plot wise you won’t miss anything if you choose not to read it!)

———

There’s a certain type of love that comes around once and a while. It’s rare.

And it’s an all consuming kind. One that when you think about it you feel it to the bone.

And oh, had you done a lot of thinking. Overthinking was pretty much all you’ve been doing the past two weeks.

You obviously are attracted to Harry. Physically, emotionally… just in every sense of the word. That’s nothing new for you. And even throughout the points of denial since forming a personal relationship with him. It’s the truth.

You’ve probably gaslit yourself out of it more times then you could count. However picture evidence of you holding hands with him in the homely streets of Italy is kind of a slap to the face.

And despite how cute you think the photos may be, you are still inexplicably panicked about them.

It’s the morning after the photos got posted. And you are genuinely still in shock. You struggled to fall asleep last night after the images first came out— your brain in complete overdrive for god knows how long until you fell asleep.

And this morning you’re ignoring the influx of messages and calls you’re getting from family, friends, and people you’ve met through love on tour.

Several texts from your own sister coming through half an hour ago. All of them including the word ‘fuck’. Shes definitely mad you didn’t tell her this had happened.

Either way, you’re left pacing the length of your hotel room. Heart still near racing in your chest as you try to figure out what to do, and how to handle something like this.

You held hands with him, you remind yourself. You didn’t get caught making out with him… the act for you came across as still something bordering platonic— even though you wished it were anything but that. This could eventually blow over.

You sigh out, leaning against the wall of your hotel, this was considerably more simple when the rest of the population had no idea it was happening.

Now they do, and they have a lot of questions. Plus, it makes it significantly harder when it’s about things you don’t even have answers to.

Harry hadn’t messaged you since everything had happened. If he even knows is beyond you.

But it felt wrong talking to anyone about it without talking to him first.

You felt a sense of guilt. Because this easily will stir up drama for him. Stuff like this spreads so fast, and you’ve seen it happen 100 times. But now you’re no longer in the back seat just watching it unfold. There will be articles, posts, even snippets in the newspapers about it. And whether or not it’s something he’s accustomed to, you still feel at fault. Like you could’ve been more careful, more considerate.

You move to sit on the edge of your unmade bed, staring at your phone that you’ve left on the bench top. How do you even approach it? What do you say to him?

You quickly decide you don’t really want to, at the moment. There is too much going through your head, and you’re still a bit freaked out about it all.

So another anxiety shower is. Which for right now, is your best and favourite option.

Standing up, you head to the bathroom, leaving your phone out in the room, allowing it to continue buzzing while you decide it’s time for some hardcore self-care to calm yourself down.

On the other side of things, Harry is also freaking out. He woke up to texts from a couple people, asking about a headline?

And for people he knows personally to be reaching out about trashy posts on the media, it’s almost always a bad sign.

One being from James, who has been off ‘The Late Late Show’ too long for him to withhold himself from making bad jokes when they present themselves.

Are they even allowed to put that many exclamation marks in the title? Overkill if you ask me. 😪😪

But when he reads the link and sees the image of himself with you, his anxiety immediately shifts from being personal.

[ 1 attachment link] : Styles Has Found His Next Musical Muse, But She’s Actually a ‘Hardcore Fangirl!!!’”

He’s almost positive you will have seen the leaked images. There is no way you would have missed this unless you were still sleeping.

Guilt nearly slaps him in the face. You do not deserve this. He already knows that you’re probably being slammed on Twitter and in comments of these pathetic articles.

And that is never nice. He hates it enough when it’s himself, and that’s after a decade of learning how to deal with it.

His concern for you leads to a text, one he doesn’t want to make, but does anyway. Purely for the fact he needs to know you’re alright.

Because the worst thing that could happen is you having some kind of anxiety attack after reading something online, and not having anyone there to be with you to talk you down. Regardless of how confident you can appear to him, he’s not taking the chance.

Hi love, can you please let me know you’re alright?

He sends it through, and then he typed out another one after it’s been about five long minutes without a reply.

I am very possibly overreacting right now, but do you need me to come over?

Another ten minutes go by,

I’ll be over in about 15. x

He is aware this may be over the top. You could be asleep. You could be just processing what’s happened— since he still remembers the first time things like this happened to him. And it’s a really weird experience.

But he is undeniably protective of you. That is one thing he can’t lie about.

And even more-so, he’s terrified this will scare you off. Because if it’s too much for you, he has no clue how he’d deal with it. Since it’s way too far out of his hands now.

Even though he knew well that this was a easily plausible situation. And it’s almost surprising how long they’ve gone without it happening earlier.

In his own time, he’s been overthinking plenty too. Wondering if it’s normal to want to lay your entire life down for someone two weeks after meeting them.

Maybe if he were 16… but pushing 30… it might be a bit harder to justify.

But somehow, despite knowing how stupid he probably seems, he leaves his bedroom after throwing on some shorts and a tshirt. Going out and grabbing the keys for his car from the kitchen.

Gemma is out there cooking toast, and she turns around to see him near running out the door.

“Harry!” She says, and when he stops to give her a quick greeting she interrupts him.

“Don’t worry so much.” She sighs.

Immediately confused, he frowns, frozen in place, “what…?”

“I’m assuming that this Y/N you’ve been on about really likes you too, okay? There’s no way she doesn’t. So just treat it like any other relationship or friendship you have. No matter the circumstances you met under. If you like her, you like her. Don’t let shit from the media get to either of you.”

Her advice comes just when he needs it, as it always does. And even though he acts like she doesn’t, she knows almost everything there is to know.

A small nod, “Thank you Gem…”

She gives him a warm smile, one that’s always encouraged him.

———

You hear the knock on the door while you’re standing in the bathroom, finishing applying a face mask. Stood clad in your shorts and black boob tube.

And after finally calming down a bit, it gives you another wave of panic. Since after waiting a few moments, the rapping on the door continues. You were hoping they would just go away, whoever it was.

You quietly leave your bathroom, going down the short hallway to look through the peephole in the door.

You don’t even get your eye up to it before you hear the all too familiar voice on the other side.

“Y/N, it’s Harry…” He was a bit muffled, but you didn’t even think as you start unlatching the locks on the door.

The look of relief on his face when you finally peek out is almost palpable.

“Hi…” you say quietly, pulling the door open further, letting him come in quickly.

He has two cups in his hands, and once he’s inside your room, he is fast to place them on the nearest free space.

“What are you—“ you don’t get through the sentence before he breaches the distance between you, tugging you into a hug, uncaring of the face mask residue getting on his shirt.

He squeezes you, “‘M so glad y’alright.”

You take a deep breath. So, he knows.

You feel immediately bad for not letting him know earlier, before he felt the need to come over.

“Did you call me? I’m so sorry, i was in the—”

“I texted you couple times— don’t be sorry. I don’t want it to seem weird I came rushing over… i was jus’ worried about you.”

You slowly draw back, “I was going to text you, I just didn’t want to… i didn’t know how to go about it, i guess?”

He pulls away, “I am so fuckin’ sorry this happened.”

“Why are you apologising? I should be…”

“Why should you apologise? You of all people do not deserve to be dissected by people in the media. Ive dragged you into something you didn’t deserve to be dragged into.” He says, sounding exasperated.

“You aren’t at fault for any of this, H. I feel like I’ve stirred up unnecessary drama up for you…” To this he immediately shakes his head.

“You haven’t. I was just worried about how you’d perceive it all… and fuck— i didn’t want it to scare you off.”

You both seem to realise that you were freaking out over each other. Starting to laugh together, realising how stupid you both probably sound.

“Okay… we sound really silly.” You sigh, moving to grab the cup he’d placed down prior to your very quick debrief.

“But seriously, Harry,” you lead him over to sit down on the edge of your bed with you, “I am still sorry. I feel like I’ve caused unnecessary… assumptions.”

He frowns a little, “assumptions?”

“About us. You know…” you shrug, eyes avoiding him, doing a terrible job at acting nonchalant.

“That we’re together? That what you’re so shy about, hm?” He teases, and you physically cannot handle the way he says it.

“I— well— Yes, sure that’s what I was going for.”

You gently scratch at the dried edges of your clay face mask, and he watches quietly, wishing he could see the blush that’s risen on your cheeks underneath it.

“Why were you showering so early— It’s like midday, I thought you said you showered in the evening?” He asks, out of the blue, causing you to frown.

Your answer comes out unsurely, “I have anxiety showers sometimes. It calms me down.”

He cocks his eyebrow, “Is that why you were literally dripping wet when i came over the other day?”

He pins you with his gaze, and you don’t reply for a few seconds. You were hoping he broke the silence himself, but it was clear he was waiting for a response.

You blurt out, “You make me nervous!”

To this he laughs, “I make you nervous?”

“Not… all the time.” You amend, “Just sometimes.”

You remove yourself before he can ask more questions, and you go to wash off the face mask in the bathroom, while he’s still stifling his laughter.

You emerge after washing it off with cold water, and his eyes follow your every step as you go to sit back down.

“Yknow, Y/N, if I didn’t know any better I’d—“

He’s cut off by a bang on the front door.

You were only scared for a second, until you heard a shrill feminine shout from outside it. One you know to be your best friends classic angry voice.

You were relieved for only about another second before you realised, she will probably break that door down if you don’t let her in.

Oh god.

“Y/N Y/L/N. LET. ME. IN!” You can picture her angry little face. And you’re almost a bit terrified of her.

But you have to hide Harry. Like you have to actually hide him.

“Harry— you— fuck, get up—” You whisper, trying to stay as quiet as possible, grabbing his wrist.

“What is happening?” He sounds awfully confused as you manhandle him around the hotel room, trying to find an adequate place to hide a 6 foot tall man from your fired up best friend.

“She may kill you— she loves you— but she’s very mad at me right now, because I didn’t tell her about,” you pause as you try to label again whatever the two of you were, “us… this… whatever you want to deem it.”

You realise the cupboard is about the only reasonable place, unless you make him climb down the balcony.

“Are you—“

“Y/N! i already KNOW you’re in there!” She calls from the door again.

You tug the door of it open, “Get in!”

You half push him inside it, “I’m so sorry, but just, just sh okay??”

He nods hastily, and you quite literally shut him in there.

“I’m coming!” You shove the takeaway cups into a kitchen cupboard and rush to the door.

Letting her in, she practically storms past you. And you pray to god you can get rid of her in a short period of time.

“I’m sorry!” You say to her, grabbing her hands.

“How could you not tell me something like that?!” She barks, shaking your arms like an angry child.

You do feel bad, because you would also be pissed if it were the other way around.

You try to explain, clutching her warm palms tighter, “To respect his privacy! I wanted to, so, so badly but I just… I didn’t want it getting out.”

She groans, pulling you in for a tight, yet still frustrated hug.

“But you know I wouldn’t have told anyone!”

“I do, i know. I’m sorry.” You embrace her, “but every time we were together there were other people… and I just hadn’t figured out how, let alone talked to him about it.”

She calms down a tiny bit, and sometimes the best way to describe her is like a miniature tornado. Her anger is very quick to bubble over and turn her into this fired up, yelling ball of energy. Yet it dissipates shortly after she lets it all out.

“Okay, well I get that, of course. But… wait are you two actually— have you slept with him?” You pull back from the hug and give her a shocked stare. Her ask stuns you for a moment.

You’re hyperaware that he is listening to this conversation.

What is he thinking right now— you can’t help but wonder. And you have to physically force yourself to push the thoughts that come with such a question aside.

“I— why would you ask me that!” You hiss at her, sounding guilty, even though you’re just throughly embarrassed.

“Because he's Harry Styles!” She exclaims, “who happens to be a very gorgeous man, and I would not be surprised if you wanted— I don't know— in his pants?”

“We are just friends!” You drag your hand down your face. Internally pleading that she stops saying embarrassing shit.

“Whatever you little liar. Acting like as if you haven't said on multiple occasions just how bad you wan—“

“OKAY!” You interrupt, trying to keep the frantic tone out of your voice, “I get it. I really do, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. But look, I have so many people I have to call and— i think my whole family also want me dead— so can we maybe get a coffee tomorrow? Talk it over, and you can ask all the questions you want.”

At your proposal, she seems to realise you mean it. And despite the confused look on her face at the fact you’re kicking her out to call what is basically her own adopted family, it seems she understands.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t wanna seem pushy. I was… just also in shock. Tomorrow at 10?” She smiles.

You start both walking over to the door, “that’s perfect.”

Tugging her into another hug, she huffs out an ‘I love you.’

You laugh and give her a chaste peck on the side of her head, “I love you too. I promise I wanted to tell you on my end. I just didn’t want to fuck anything up…”

She nods, pulling back, “I know. And if you need anything, or anyone before I see you tomorrow, don’t forget I’m only a few floors up.”

“I won’t.” You open the door for her, and bid a final goodbye. And once it’s shut, you realise how badly you want the ground beneath your feet to literally swallow you whole.

Despite the embarrassment, you quickly rush over to let Harry out of the cupboard you’d shoved him in.

And as he steps out, adorning a smirk and clearly stifling a laugh, you apologise profusely.

“God— I am so incredibly sorry.”

A proper abashed grin spreads across his face, one that flashes his dimples. Reminding you of the sign you took to the last show, telling him how pretty you thought his smile was. You still think the same.

“Kind of exciting hiding in a cupboard. I never even did it as a teenager.” He chuckles, brushing a few stray curls from his eyes.

“Do I look a little more youthful? As gorgeous as ever?” He teases.

“I am so sorry you had to hear all of that, she has a… she lacks a filter.” You excuse, cheeks flaming as you try to dig yourself out of the hole your best friend has unwittingly buried you in.

“That's okay love, but I am a little curious…”

You frown at his careful words.

He takes a step closer as he continues, “what so badly did you want to do to me that you told all your friends about?”

At this, you completely turn your face away from his green-eyed stare. Because you cannot trust yourself.

He doesn’t realise the dangerous game he’s playing with you right now. Especially while he’s standing in-front of you like this. Tattooed arms out, beautiful face and jawline on display.

“Y/N, darling. I asked a question.” His voice has turned to honey. He’s talking you in a way he never has before. With a tone that is almost demanding an answer, laced with a undertone of seduction.

“Stop it.” You hiss, flicking his solid chest with your hand.

He steps forward, and you step back in response. He backs you up all the way to the edge of your bed.

“Stop being a flirt.” You scoff, finally holding eye contact for more than a second.

His pupils have blown out a little, and the stare he’s giving you is something you want burned into the underside of your eyelids.

“Why? Is it working.” He chuckles, demeanour softening a tiny bit as his hand slides down your arm.

You don’t reply.

“Please tell me, Y/N. I want to know. Y’know I’m nosey.”

“Resorted to begging, I see.” You snort, heart still hammering behind your rib cage.

“If it works, I can do plenty of it.” He playfully remarks.

You try to not reply again, but you’re met with a silence. Somehow he knows you’re going to fill it with a fumbled half-confession.

“I don’t even really remember. I was probably tipsy on some wine. Said some stuff to… the girls. After a show.”

“After a show?” He smirks, “Which one?”

“Barcelona. And maybe back at… another. One or two others.”

“But that’s all I’m saying!” You interject, hoping he takes that as enough of an answer.

He laughs at your attempted defiance.

“Anyways, what even— what are you getting at here?” You ask, because truly, his flirting is heavily confusing you. In every way possible.

“Remember when you told me I had a the prettiest smile?” He lightly grazes your hip with his warm hand.

“I— yes. That was like, 2 weeks ago. What’s your point?” You are biting at your bottom lip.

“Don’t get feisty.” He coos, “Everytime I smile around you, I think of that. And then, I wonder what other things you think about me. What other parts you see of me and consider as pretty.”

“And, can you blame a man for wanting to know what dirty things you’ve said about him to y’friends?”

Jesus Christ. A part of you melts at his words. He is watching you like a hawk, gauging your every little reaction. But you’re clinging to any part of you that’s trying to keep this from heading in that direction. Even though you know it’s not because you don’t want to.

“We really shouldn’t… H.” You state, voice almost shaking with an unspoken need. One that you’re trying to keep from bursting through the seams.

“Why not, Y/N?” He asks, making it sound like a challenge. Causing him to be met with a quick jump in your voice.

You are pulling at every part of your strength right now to justify why this is a terrible idea.

“Because, Harry. I am a fucking fangirl for you. Not in a casual way either, like bordering a little bit insane! It’s horrifying, and very embarrassing! And this is a horrible idea, because I don’t think you understand the kind of—“ You don’t get to finish whatever you were about to say, because he kisses you. With his all.

It feels like he pours every once of his being into it. The way his smooth lips press into your own, fuelled by a heat that is felt in the very pit of your stomach. Your knees almost buckle at the sensation.

You grab his shoulder to stabilise yourself. And your lungs are already drawn of all their air.

In actuality, it mustn’t have lasted very long— maybe a couple seconds— before he pushes the back of your knees against the bed, forcing you to sit down.

He draws in a breath after you seperate, “I don’t care if you have photos of me on your fucking bedroom walls, baby.”

“Could not care less, look at you.” He leans down now, kissing over your lips again in separate, doting pecks, “y’so gorgeous, and genuine. I love that you love what I do.”

You’re in a bit of shock, looking up at him with widened eyes. Because obviously you’ve imagined kissing him before. Probably a thousand times. And that dream has somehow sprung to fruition.

How exactly? you’re still unsure.

“I— Harry.” You say, with no real purpose, clutching onto his broad shoulders.

The way you whine out his name drives him almost insane, and he drops down onto his knees between your spread legs. Giving him easier access to kiss your mouth.

His hands snake around your waist, and he lets his lips slot back over yours.

You loose yourself in the act, your own fingers skating up his back and into the hair at the nape of his neck.

It’s so fucking soft. And you use it to press his face closer to yours. He’s surprised when you’re the one to part your lips and dart your tongue out first.

Skating along his pink bottom lip as an invitation.

He accepts it happily, clutching at your waist while he lets his tongue dip into the heat of your mouth. You can’t help but groan at the sensation, and feel the warmth start to gather between your thighs.

He was kissing you like a starved man. And slowly everything you knew started slipping from the forefront of you mind. All you could feel and focus on was him.

How his muscly frame filled up your senses—and the area between your knees— paired with the glide of his tongue over your teeth.

—((sexual content from here and onwards))

His hands tracing over several parts of your body, even going to pull you closer with his hands cupping your bottom. Squeezing at the swell of your ass playfully.

You bite your teeth down onto his lip and drag it backwards, eliciting a moan from the back of his throat.

Your hips push forward, brushing the front of your shorts on his torso, causing his jaw to go lax.

The two of you seperate for air, panting, and his eyes veer south, looking at where you’re pressed against him.

“Fuckin’ Christ. Look at you, needy little thing.”

You bury your head into his neck, kissing along his sharp jawline. Unable to control your slowly circling hips.

“So, y’willing to share what it is you wanted to do to me yet? Given that you’re practically grinding on m’chest.”

You hum a maybe, and he lets out a deep laugh.

“After Barcelona,” You start, and he works to coax the answer out of you with his hands and lips.

“Mmhm…” he acknowledges, mouthing against your clavicle.

“You had looked so good that night… and I got a little tipsy after the show, back at our BNB.”

“You were in those low rise black pants, and that tiny cropped vest. And my god— i said to all the girls that if you were down, I would happily let you take me. Anyway you wanted.”

“Anyway?” His hoarse voice asks.

“Anyway. Fingers, tongue... cock.”

At the first mention of something genuinely sexual, he almost looses it. Envisioning your spread legs with his head pressed between them.

“But I didn’t just say that because I was tipsy. Or because of the outfit you wore.” You allude quietly.

He can’t wait another second before he’s pressing his already swollen lips back against yours. And hard.

“Want everything off you.” He fists at your boob-tube.

Your body is hotter than a thousand suns, and your need for him is literally tearing through you.

It’s clear this was your tipping point. There was no going back to something casual and platonic. The way your whole body ached to have him was unfathomable.

“Strip me.” You beg, arms lifting so he can tug the thin black material over your head, leaving your breasts in a strapless bra.

He runs his tongue over the exposed skin, hands sliding to the clasp at your back to get it off you.

He moans aloud once he sees you, briefly recalling the times his gaze has dipped to your cleavage in those little sundresses you wore while you were out together, and how he would always be wishing for a moment like this.

He laves his tongue over your nipple, before quickly occupying himself with the button of your shorts.

“These off too?” He confirms, voice gravelly with want.

Hastily, you nod, “Yes, all of it.”

Your sheer eagerness is turning him on even more. You always seemed a tiny bit reserved, so hearing you beg for your clothes to get torn off…

“Ass up,” he asks, watching as you lift it from the bed so he can tug the shorts from your waist and down your legs.

Left in nothing but your underwear, he slides his hand over your front to see how wet you were.

You moan as his fingers brush over your clothed-clit. And you notice now that your arousal has wet through your panties.

“Fucking hell. You realise you’re absolutely drenched, right baby?” He near moans, rubbing a gentle circle over the fabric.

“I—shit— I’m sorry, didn’t think I’d gotten so…” You’re almost a little embarrassed at the amount of arousal between your legs.

He hooks his fingers into the crotch of your underwear, peeling them down your thighs.

Your bare cunt had him almost light headed. You were genuinely glistening, and your slick had already spread to the hood of your clit.

“Darling don’t be sorry. Y’got the prettiest little pussy. Cant believe you’re this wet.”

“What did it for you, huh?” He asks finger running through you, eliciting a groan from both your throats.

In a pleasure-filled haze, you slur out a reply, “You. Just all of you.”

You squirm under his featherlight caress, and take a moment to watch him gaze at you. There is nothing but this look of admiration and desire in his eyes.

“Wanna see you, Harry.” You plea, tugging at the hem of his shirt.

He waits not a second to slip it over his head, and your hands immediately run down his torso. Staying quiet as he lets you indulge.

This is something you have thought of in a million different ways. His chest is built like that of a Greek gods, and his tattoos are an added bonus.

You feel the ridges of his abs under your fingertips, and you trace over the butterfly tattoo as well.

His breath flutters in and out of his nose. But using your hands doesn’t satiate you.

You need him on your tongue.

“Stand up.” You ask, and he doesn’t question you, he just obliges.

You keep him stood between your bare legs, but lean your neck inwards, tongue jutting out to run a solid strip up his stomach.

A rumble comes from him, akin to a growl as you move to of his pecs. Gliding your tongue over the hair-dusted flesh, and enveloping his own nipple into your mouth.

You’d never done this before, since sucking on a guys nipple is less of a commodity… but the reaction it works out of him is perfect.

The way he throws his head back, sharp jaw tilted to the celling, and hair falling from his forehead.

“Oh… oh god.”

You draw back, grabbing his shorts and pushing them down. Kissing both the laurels that sit atop his hips before cupping your hand over his bulge, covered by black Calvin Klein briefs.

“Can I take you out, please?”

“Such nice manners, good girl.”

Good girl. The words float around in your head, and something else inside of you comes undone.

Not sure if it was your self respect… or some other part of your morals. But you could go feral simply over those two words.

You bite down on your lip as you tug the briefs down, watching his cock slip up.

Lord.

You almost salivate. It’s perfect in every way you’d want it to be. A flushed red tip, dotted with beads of pre-cum. And of course it’s big.

For an already perfect man, it’s hard to believe you can strip him completely, and still not find a single flaw.

“Staring pretty hard… you a little intimated?”

“It’s big.” You state, hand coming to wrap around its thick base. “Want it in me.”

He leans down, picking you up by your thighs. You laugh in reaction, him manhandling you into the centre of your still unmade bed.

There was a sense of intimacy that was being shared as he pulled you forward, so you were straddling his hips.

Both of you leaned forward to lock lips, kissing feverishly as you touched over every inch of skin you could. Eventually, both of your hands falling between the others legs.

You stroked over him, and he careful slid his middle finger into you.

He worked you until you were near dripping down his hand, and were scraping your nails along his shoulders.

“Harry— need you…” you beg.

“Want me to take you right now?” He asks, cock throbbing in your hand.

“Yes. I can handle it. Promise. I’m clean and on birth control if you wanna go bare.”

“Only if you’re sure. I trust you.”

“I am… just want to feel you.” You plead.

“Need you to tell me how y’want it first, pretty.” He coos, curling his finger inside you.

You moan in response, and he slides it out shortly after so he regains your attention.

“I—“ you stutter, now feeling empty, “anyway you want, I said that earlier.”

“No, baby, how do you like it?” He asks again, smiling against your skin.

“Anything, hard or gentle, I’ll come either way. Look at you— as if I wouldn’t.”

He pulls your core to his, rubbing the tip against your slick hole, “Then tell me as we go how you’re doing, and what you want or need okay. Want you to feel really good, m’kay?”

You nod, and he starts to sink into you, already pulling a moan from your lips at the stretch.

He on the other hand struggles to hold himself together as your warm walls part for him.

“Fuck, fuck… you’re so tight, Y/N.” He groans, pulling you down nearly all the way— stopping before he reaches the base of his cock, taking a moment to adjust so he doesn’t come before he’s all the way in.

“Mm-“ you whine out, nails digging into the warm muscle on his back, “Harry…”

Once he’s composed himself, he lets your hips sink the down to the base of him. You both take a moment to feel it. Panting, because the heat and the connection you’re both sharing is only describable as euphoric.

“Y’okay?” He sighs out, clutching your waist with firm hands.

“Yes… so fuckin’ full.” You moan out, hole fluttering around his length.

He carefully draws his hips back, pulling out a little only to push it back in.

Just that small movement has you reeling. And you’re quick to realise that this is probably going to be the best sex you’ve ever fucking had.

“Look at that, your cunt swallowing me up. So fuckin’ hot.” He whispers, slowly starting to pick up the pace.

His fingers move to play with your clit, and he notices the reaction that courses through your body the second he rolls it between his fingers.

You buck your hips against him, and he brings his lips down to suck on the side of your breast.

“Mark me.” You encourage, wanting him to leave you with bruises from his mouth.

“Dirty thing,” he moans, fucking up into you, “so fucking wet too. All f’me isn’t it?”

The dirty talk causes you to clench around him, and he picks up on it.

“Jesus, you really are? Like when I say dirty stuff too, clearly.” He grunts.

“Yes, fuck! Please touch me.” You ask, needing to feel more of him, to the point it consumes your senses.

He touches you almost everywhere, with his hands, lips, tongue. All over your body until you genuinely can’t think of anything else.

It leaves your body shaking, and he can tell you’re not going to last much longer going by the clenching of your cunt.

“I’m gonna come if you keep squeezing around me like tha’.” He curses, keeping a fast pace with his hips as you feel the beginning of your high approaching.

It starts to bubble up in the pit of your stomach, “God— you’re so deep.”

“Yea, love? Feel me all the way up here?” He splayed his hand on your lower abdomen and you nod.

“Gonna come soon… please.” Your thighs are going weak from trying to hold your body up, and he notices, flipping you around so he’s on top of you.

The new angle has you biting down on your palm to try and stop yourself from crying out.

“Taking it so well. M’not far off either, baby.” He groans, his thrusts faltering as he bottoms out.

He pushes two fingers past your lips, allowing your tongue to swirl over them before he is removing them. Taking them down to rub over your swollen clit.

The added stimulation is what’s going to tip you over the edge.

“H—fuck—Harry! I’m gonna come!” You moan out, nails scraping down his bicep.

“Good fucking girl,” he prompts, fingers flicking over your clit, “let it all go for me, gush all over my cock.”

His words send you spiralling. And they’re the final push you need before your cunt clamps down around him with a loud moan tearing out of you.

“Fuckfuckfuck!” You’re writhing around him, and he curses at how tight you’re clenching him.

“That’s it, keep fucking going— ride it out on me.” He hisses, hips finally faltering as he feels his cock come inside of you.

Twitching between your warm walls as his stomach muscles contract and ripple with the intensity of his release.

He near buckles on top of you, his body weight pressing against you. And The two of you are panting, still shivering out slight aftershocks of your orgasms.

His forehead rests against yours, and you lean forward to brush a kiss against his parted lips.

Gently, he pulls himself out. A tiny hiss coming from his lips at the sensitivity.

He rolls over, bringing you to lay down on top of him. And you feel the partial heaving of his damp chest below you.

“Thank you…” You mumble out, sounding almost shy.

He picks up on it, “Don’t sound so nervous, darling. Y’were amazing.”

This brings a smile across your lips. It’s safe to assume that maybe things around you are complicated. But actually between the two of you, it’s anything but.

You like him, so much. So you just say it.

“I like you, Harry.”

And he affirms your statement with a kiss to your temple, and says quietly, “I like you too, Y/N. A lot.”

And this feels like an unspoken agreement that maybe the media is only going to get more riled up about the two of you as time goes on, but what you have is something genuinely worth fighting for.

Plus… they already know so, what’s the worse that could really happen now?

———

that was a long one!! hope you all loved it, and thank you so much for the support on this series. and don’t worry, you will definitely still be seeing more of them in the future. 🤍

taglist:

@harrystylesgirlie @purple9950 @teamspideyman @rociolunaa21 @spiritofbuddha @lemonhrry @deamus-liv @Iquvlly @kuntxrgraudunkelbunt @hsfanficsrecss @hsstylesrings @saturnheartz @victoriasigaard @lilfreakjez @mrsvxder @skxawngs @theekyliepage @hannah9921 @shiffpring @multifandomsw @roslastyles420 @slutforcoffein @kittenhere @stylesfever @butterfly-lover @daniizstyles @padf00ts-l0ver @sunflowervol18 @laurxn-robinson @kkr102 @superlegend216 @jerseygirlinca @cherrysulewski

+ all the anons who sent stuff to my submission box, thank you to you guys too, all my love

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reverieblondie · 7 months

Text

Clumsy Kitty

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara X Blackcat Fem!!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Smut with Some Plot, Blowjob, Slight hair pulling, Teasing, Unprotected Penetrative Sex.

Summary: You became a thief to help you get over your mundane life. Turns out being a big time thief is not so easy…especially when you have a grumpy spider-man always throwing you off your game, if only there was a way to get back at him.

Part 2

A/N: I really love the idea of a clumsy Black Cat interacting with Miguel. The thought plagues my brain! I hope you all enjoy it! I have a lot more fics in the works so please look out for them!

Word count: 5,637 (edited to the best of my ability, if you have any tips on editing please share with me!)

“You have gotta be kidding me…”

Groaning as you hang from the ceiling you try to break out of the cords you are tangled in. Well, this is embarrassing, Black Cat tangled in cords suspended in the air in one of the many labs in Alchemax. Yep, this is just the cherry on top of your little escapades.

Stealing things and breaking into places became a recent hobby of yours. Tired of your mundane life, you wanted excitement, you wanted the rush of doing something bad, So what do you do? You become a thief of course! Was this the most rational way to solve your boredom? No, but it's not like you were hurting anyone with stealing, you were just scratching that bad girl itch by taking things that didn't belong to you and breaking into places that seemed impossible to enter, you loved the rush and high your actions would give you, it was downright addicting.

Though there's only one thing wrong with your new life of thieving, it turns out you are really, not the best at it. Sure, there were a few times you were able to make it out with the goods you wanted. But you were usually not successful in your adventures in Nueva York, and it was all thanks to one blue and red-clad hero, Spider-man.

Spider-man always seemed to show up and it would cause you to spiral out of control. Whether it was his intimidating figure or that gruff voice, his presence always turned your brain fuzzy and caused your thighs to clench. It couldn't be helped, he was a magnet and you were helpless to his pull.

Your first ever encounter with the hero you would remember forever. It was one of the first high-profile places you had decided to break into. It was a museum that was housing a very famous jewel for an exhibit, and you just knew you needed to get your hands on it. So dawning your iconic catsuit you made your way to the museum. Breaking in and grabbing the jewel seemed to go off without a hitch, however, you must have hit an alarm somewhere because the Public Eye could be heard in the distance.

Scrambling to the roof you stopped dead in your tracks, there he stood. Having seen pictures before you instantly recognized the icon in front of you, a dark cobalt blue suit with glowing red accents. Impossibly broad shoulders, towering height, and muscles that bulged from his suit leaving little to the imagination. Your mind felt like it blue screened, as you stared at him. How did he get here so quickly? Why is he so massive? Is he going to spank you? Wait what? Scratch that!

You two just stood and studied each other for a moment, the tension high, your nerves going haywire being in his presence, you couldn't help the rush of heat dropping to your lower stomach. Does he realize how imposing he is? And why was he turning you on so much? Is it the thrill of stealing or is it just him? Your mind was racing, and he just stared at you. It seemed like he was studying you. Though you couldn't read any expression from that damn mask of his you suddenly had the urge to rip off his face to reveal what you could only assume was a dreamy man. Wait, why are you acting so thirsty? He's here to stop you, not to ravish you! You're a bad girl, he's a good guy, take a mental image of him for a later daydream and get out of here! Then a commanding voice grips you and makes you snap to the present.

“Hand that over, Now!”

The simple demand rolled from his tongue making your brain fuzzy and limbs turning to jelly. The familiar rush of heat dropping to your stomach turning into a coil. The mix in your stomach, a storm of nerves and arousal. Feeling your breath hitch you just stared blankly at the hero.

He just spoke to you! Say something, do something!

Standing dumbfounded for a moment you begin to walk to him slowly. He teased from your approach getting ready to defend himself, however he didn't need to. Before he could even comprehend what was happening you placed the jewel in his hand. Staring at him with stars in your eyes as you just backed away. You tried to speak, but it only came out a subtle whine as you turned to run off. A tilt of his head said it all to show his confusion about your silent surrender, he didn't even chase you down when you escaped, most villains put up a fight and you just gave in to his demand? That was a change of pace.

Getting back home you were pacing around your room kicking yourself. That was so lame! You could have said something! Gave him a fight! Flirted a little! Made an impression! Oh wait you did, as the worst thief ever! Handing over the loot as soon as he demands! What kind of thief does that?

Plopping down on your bed you throw your head into your hands feeling the embarrassment still aching within you. Hopefully, next time if you run into the hero you will handle yourself like a proper theif and not whatever the hell that was!

----

Finally, your second chance has come! And things were going much better than the first encounter. What did you steal this time? Some important-looking technology from some important-looking building, honestly, you didn't think that what you were taking would be all that missed, but here you are getting chased by your new favorite hero. After your first meeting, you had done some research into Spiderman and you came out of it with a bit of a crush. Was it taboo to have a crush on a hero when you were participating in bad behavior? Yes, but he was just too amazing to ignore.

Jumping rooftop to rooftop using your grappling claws to help you swing and climb. It had taken you days of practice to make it look effortless. He on the other hand climbed and swung using his sharp talons and neon red webs that glowed oh so gorgeous in the night, you just assumed that the actions must have always come so easy to him.

“Get back here now cat!”

That same rough voice yelling out towards you just makes you want to purr, maybe your persona was getting to you but you didn't care. You just wanted him to yell and bully you and you were not going to apologize for that. Have you been fantasizing a bit about the spider hero? Yes, but all the fanfiction you had stumbled on and read during your research did not help your case. Some of these writers come up with the tastiest scenarios.

“No can do spidy! you have to catch me first!”

Finally getting the flirty banter down you were turning to give him a cheeky wink, an action you were sure would make his head spin but, devastation accords. Right in the middle of your turn, that you had rehearsed in your mind, you clumsily tripped over your own feet and landed straight to the ground, right in front of Spider-Man. You're supposed to be agile like a cat, not fumbling like a fool!

Spider-man slows his pursuit from a sprint to a jog to a walk then standing above you looking down at you. He studies you for a moment placing his large hands on his tapered waist, you feel like you could cry, you just wish a portal to another dimension would swallow you up but you were not so lucky. He crotches down, not seeing you as a threat at all, scooping up the tech then swings away back to where you stole them. Great, he didn't even speak to you or try to apprehend you after you fell. This is truly the worst moment of your life. You gathered yourself off the floor and sulked away back home, trying to put your pride back together.

----

Now you are hanging from the ceiling in some dingy lab, helplessly tangled. This was not helping your confidence whatsoever. The goal was to steal some stuff to improve your tools and suit, but no, you get tangled in some random cords! Unbelievable, This can't get worse. Then you spot him climbing through the side window and walking towards you, you stand corrected, this did get worse. Can't catch a break with this guy!

Stopping right in front of you, face to face with him you could better see the subtle pixelating glow of his suit and the intoxicating smell of his natural musk.

“What are you doing?” he spoke slight confusion in his serious voice

“Oh you know, hanging around” You chuckle at your cheesy joke but he just remains stoic.

“You're really bad at this” he speaks frankly before quickly popping out his talons and swiftly cutting you free.

You crash to the floor before you quickly spring back up facing him dusting yourself off.

“What do you mean?” you quickly quip back

“I mean you're really bad at the whole stealing thing” he motions his finger in a circle in the air.

“I think I'm just inexperienced, give me a few more chances and you will see” You start following him as he starts moving to leave, forgetting about even sealing anything, you're just excited to have a dialog with him.

“You're lucky I don't throw your clumsy ass in jail.”

“Why don't you then?”

“Because you're not a threat to anyone but yourself” he whips around and pokes his finger out to you. This sudden confession takes you aback for a moment.

“What? I am a threat! Look at these claws!” you pop out your mechanical claws trying to show him how dangerous you are, he turns and looks at your hand unimpressed you assume before sighing and turning away.

Making his way out of the window you clumsily follow behind him. The hero makes his way to the roof of the building, scaling the sides with little effort. It takes you a bit more effort to complete the climb following him. Note to self-practice climbing to build endurance.

Thoughts swirling in your mind, it's odd to be speaking to him so casually, you're a villain, albeit a not-very-good one but you still are one. You two should be fighting or chasing each other. Though you should probably be thankful you are not fighting the guy who was way more skilled and massive. You were not a good fighter, but it was irritating that he didn't even see you as a threat, you could be a threat! Not that you wanted to be but who the hell does he think he is to undermine you to your face?

Reaching the rooftop he stands walking away from you as you fumble behind him trying to catch up. He looks back at you as you try to catch your breath, though you can't see his face you can feel a scowling glare piercing through you.

“Go home kitty, I have more important matters to deal with than play with you”

With that, he shoots his blazing red web in the air and swings away. Fantastic, he sees you as nothing more than just some fool to not take seriously.

Standing there an ache fills your chest, every time he was around you looked like an idiot, clumsy and brain-fuzzed with inappropriate thoughts of things he could do to you but you didn't expect him to undermine you so bluntly. It was a major blow to your bad girl ego.

Clenching your fist into tight balls you feel your frustration hitting its peak. Yelling out to him in desperation you shout to his fading figure.

“You know what spiderman? You better watch out! I might just surprise you!”

----

Okay yes, what you were doing could be classified as stalking, but you were burning to get back at Spider-Man. He had seen you look like a fool three times too many, so it was now time to make him eat his words. But how do you get back at a superhero? Well, your idea is: You find his secret hideaway, steal his stuff and leave him a note telling him how he shouldn’t be so cocky. Who could see you as some clumsy thief after that?

The plan was in full effect: you had found him cleaning up the streets of Nueva York, beating up a gang blue and bloody. Watching him work was pretty thrilling, he moved with such force and skill. He was something to reckon with, for a moment you find yourself thinking you might rethink your plan, but you quickly shake the idea away. Spider-man was going to be knocked down a peg by you, this was definitely going to change how he sees you.

What he had said had stirred something in you that you just couldn't ignore, it was almost like you wanted to impress him. To get his attention and see you more than just some clumsy thief, who knows maybe he would be into it? Good girls like bad boys apparently, do good guys like bad girls? Well, you hope so.

After he finished his fight with the gang he started swinging through the city. You made sure to keep your distance so he wouldn't catch you as you kept a watchful eye out for those iconic glowing webs. After a while, you lost him in the cleaner division of the city. You looked around at the pristine buildings. Most of them were brand new, they were always developing and getting rid of buildings so everything looked unfamiliar to you even though you have lived in Nueva York all your life.

Looking around one building caught your eye, it was tall but wasn't the tallest in the city and didn't seem to have any windows besides some at the very top. There was something about this building that you couldn't shake. Call it a hunch or just natural intuition but you knew this building was hiding something, hopefully, it was hiding Spider-Man's secret hideout. Approaching the building you looked to see if it housed a company of some sort but you didn't see anything. -suspicious.

Needing to find a way inside, you scope out the buildings outside. The only possible opening you saw for yourself was a window and it was quite the climb to reach it. It would be worth it though, if this was really where Spider-Man was hiding, he would for sure be surprised by this sudden intrusion to his private space. The ultimate fantasy was you breaking in stealing some stuff then leaving him a cheeky note, he would be so impressed by your skill he would hunt you down and beg you to join him to fight crime. Then he would make sweet love to you, twisting you and bending around in many positions making you cum over and over again with him.

Squealing in excitement as you climb you almost fall having to adjust your grip. Maybe it would be better if you kept the fantasies at bay for now. The climb felt like it lasted forever, huffing and pushing through your exhaustion, your fantasy driving you to your goal. Popping your head up to look through the window, you are met with your reflection, dammit. Well, time for the tried and true method, breaking and entering!

Unsheathing one of your sharp claws you start cutting through the glass. You struggle to cut a hole large enough for you to crawl through, it's rigged and wavy on the sides, truly unprofessional looking for a thief but whatever. Pushing the glass slightly it doesn't budge. Applying more force and using your body weight you finally get through the glass with a crash. Wincing you hope the sound wasn't too loud to make anyone notice, as you stand, brushing yourself off, you finally look around and are frozen by what you see.

People in costumes all over the place have their eyes glued to you, some wear masks and some do not but there seems to be a theme to all of them, a spider theme. Your brows furrow, a costume party?

It's not until you see some of them swinging from webs and walking on the ceiling does it dawn on you that this isn't a party of normal people.

During your state of confusion, you spot him, your Spider-Man. He’s staring at you, his eye lenses raised in surprise. He seemed to have been talking to people before staring at your sudden intrusion. This wasn't your plan at all, but just go with it! Quickly finding your bearings you point to your Spider-Man face flushed but still determined.

“You have underestimated me Spider-Man! I found your little…Clubhouse?”

As you shout out to him he walks over to you staring intently, eye lenses furrowed. His approach makes your breath shake and speech clutter into a rambling mess.

“I'm…I'm not so clum-clumsy now huh…”

You finally stumble out as he now stands inches from you. Then your breathing stops as the mask that has been hiding his face disappears revealing his crimson eyes, perfectly high cheekbones and full lips. His ravenous hair slicked back, the rich color brown beautifully complemented his tanned skin. Shit, he’s even more gorgeous than in any kind of fantasy you could imagine.

He stares at you for a moment before he quickly grabs your arm and starts dragging you behind him. As you are tugged through you look at the spider people staring at you. Some would avert their gaze from you, while others just stared, you swore you could even hear some snickering and laughing at the scene.

“Poor thing, he's probably going to kill her”

“How did she find us?”

“Looks like Miguel has a pet cat now”

Listening to the muttering of the people your ears perk at the name, Miguel? Looking back up to Spider-Man dragging you along, his name must be Miguel then. You didn’t expect to find out his name and see his face so suddenly. But now you knew more about him, and it was exciting you.

Miguel continues to drag you through the massive building, not meeting your eye of course, you pass by many things in the building looking around in awe as your arm is held in his strong grip, almost certain that you will have bruises tomorrow.

Finally, after the walking and a quiet elevator ride you are in a dark cluttered room, a holo agent appears to welcome Miguel back, but he only responds with a gruff command of Do not disturb.

Releasing his death grip on you he turns to face you once more. His face alone sends butterflies in your stomach no high alert as he looks down at you. Scrunching his face before closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose, he takes a deep breath before he starts pacing.

You watch as he paces around for a moment, muttering to himself as you just stare patiently. Your eyes take him in as you watch him move left and right left and right your head swiveling in tandem with his movements. Muscles under his tight suit seeming to get tighter as he paces. It was almost mouth watering.

“Miguel?” You say in a sweet question.

Turning his head to you instinctively from hearing his name, he winces when he realizes that you now know his identity, "What" he barks in your direction.

Trying to come across as unfazed by his annoyance you just chirp a “nothing” to the seething man. His eyes scan you for a moment up and down before returning to his pacing.

You go to say something else but he quickly holds his large hand up to you, effectively causing you to bite your bottom lip to silence yourself. Opening his crimson eyes again he stares at you, this must be the look he always gives you. Furrowed brows, one slightly raised. His full flips in a furrowed pout. Any moment he could either yell at you, grab your throat and slam you into a wall, or grab your face and kiss you passionately. The intensity of his stare has you fidgeting slightly picking at your figures, a bad habit that only occurs when you're nervous.

Full lips opening you hear him breathe out a question to you

“Why are you here gata?”

Skin tingling from his simple question it takes all the nerve you might have still had straight out of you.

“I wanted to surprise…”

“Surprise me? I am surprised actually, it's shocking you didn't break your neck climbing up the building?” he cuts you off irritatedly

“Well, I almost fell a few times…” you nervously laugh.

Staring at you he doesn't laugh at your quip. This was not your plan at all.

“Do you get off on being a shocking pain in my ass?”

Eyes widen at his question, you look to your feet, shit. This isn't how this is supposed to go. Sure you know you're a pain but you just wanted his attention. And yes, that sounds kinda of pathetic but, he is your crush as odd as it is.

Your breaking in and entering places started the rush for you, but getting to interact with Spider-Man made it all the more tantalizing. There is no way you can admit this to him though, especially now. He's irritated enough by you, plus he would most certainly reject you. Snapping his fingers at you causes you to look up at him.

“Tell me Cat”

Moving your eyes away from him, you feel less like a thief and more like an employee getting reprimanded by a supervisor. Miguel leans to meet your eyes. Noting your flushed features and rapid heartbeat, the realization hits him like a ton of bricks.

The feeling of fingers on your chin snaps you back from your inner spiraling. As you are now forced to look at Miguel, his breath fanning on your face from his proximity those crimson eyes boring into you.

“Are you trying to get my attention, kitty? Because you have it, now what?”

His smooth voice has your body flushing with a warm heat, ruining your panties in the process. Is this happening? Is he flirting? Is he into this? Into you?

“Whatever you want” You speak too quickly, wanting to punch yourself for sounding so desperate.

His thumb brushes against your lips making your knees weak and breathing to spot “Then get on your knees” his smooth voice commands.

Being all to eager you drop to your knees in an instant looking up meeting his red eyes pooling with hunger. He slowly slips his thumb in your mouth feeling your tongue and pressing down to release your drool.

“You know, you're not like others. They are not so eager for my attention,” he says with hooded eyes as you roll your tongue over his digit. You just nod, leaning in to grab his firm thighs running your hands up to palm his stranded cock you can feel as it grows and twitches in his suit.

“Just to warn you, once we start I won't be able to stop”

You just suck on him looking up at him to convey your response.

“Don't say I didn't warn you''

With that, he removes his thumb soaked from your drool, and his suit dissolves away. Watching his tanned skin be revealed to you from the dissolving light. His cock springing out towards your face.

crouching down towards you and grabs the back of your neck pulling you in for a rough kiss. keeping his intense eyes on you as you kiss him back in a fever. Pushing his tongue in your mouth he feels as you eagerly meet him with yours, desperate to taste him. Grabbing and pressing your hands to his solid chest to support yourself, slowly getting drunk from his kiss.

Miguel breaks the kiss standing up from you, pumping his massive cock, almost teasing you with its girth and length, taunting you to take all of him in.

Grasping onto him you feel the silkiness of his cock and the ridge of each vein. The slit of his cock pebbles with glistening precum as you keep pumping him with your hands, licking and tip to take in his tangy taste you are sure to get addicted to.

His large hand drifts to your cheek rubbing his thumb on your face.

“Look at you being a good girl, you ready to take it kitty?”

He takes his cock back into his other hand and slaps his tip to your lips. You instantly parted your lips, eyes completely glazed over in lust for him. He slowly slips his cock through your parted lips. The heat and girth make your mouth water as he pushes inch by inch into your wet walls. Whining at the intrusion in your mouth you use your tongue to rub against the thick bottom of his heavy member, enticing him to push in deeper. His cock twinges at your eager licking and he grabs a fist full of your hair as a warning.

“Breath through your nose” he demands

Before you know it you feel his hips buckling into you more, slipping himself deeper down your throat. Miguel was a big guy so of course he was down your throat causing you to gag and whine on him, he went to pull out to give you relief but you clung to his thighs not allowing him to leave you. Throwing his head back, a moan escapes him from your needy hold.

Lolling his head to the side as he starts to steadily pump his cock into your drooling mouth, he can't remember the last time he's seen such a beautiful sight. Doe eyes glazed over looking up at him, face flushed, tears streaming down from the constant gagging, cheeks sucked in, his cock sliding in and out of your mouth as your saliva drops from your chin to your clothed thighs in that black skin tight suit that he just wants to rip off you. Continuing his rutting into you he just smirks.

Swiftly he shethes himself fully in your mouth down your throat, your nose pressed to his trimmed hairs. Petting your head keeping himself in as you adjust to accommodate him he breathlessly gives you a command.

“Purr for me kitty, I want to feel how much you like it”

Without hesitation start to purr, the vibrations sending him over the edge as he starts thrusting in your eager mouth, bottoming out each time. Feeling you rocking, he looks down to see you rubbing your clothed cunt desperately on your hand.

“So needy gata”

cooing to you, as you just continue your pursuit on your hand, shame and embarrassment hit you for acting so desperate. But the pleasure of the sensation of your fucked throat and pressure on your clit has you rolling your eyes back in bliss. Sure, he can call you needy all he wants, but you don't care as you get close to your high.

Thrust becoming more sloppy and his moans starting to slip out in a consistent hum you know he's approaching his release. Swiping your tongue in a fever around him to bring him closer you tighten your grip on his thighs to continue your grinding. A throbbing of his cock and the quickening of his breath is your warning before he is releasing his thick cum down your throat, that you can't help but swallow down with an urgent fever. Quickly he slips out of you, making you cough at the sudden emptiness of your throat.

Coughing you didn't realize how much you were desperate for air during his throat fucking. Crawling away from him, not to run away but to get a break to catch your breath, you feel a quick swipe on your clothed pussy, then sudden cold air hitting it as all your arousal starts dripping down your puffy folds to the ground under you. You whine at the sudden exposure and before you can turn your head to see what's happening you feel Miguel's large hands on your hips pulling you close to him.

“Don't tell me you're done gata? We haven't even started” he taunts while swiping two of his long fingers around your folds.

Looking back at him you press your cunt to him whining for him to keep touching you, he hums in response.

“Good kitty”

He continues to brush your folds, teasing your swollen clit every so often with a rub or a flick to make sure you were soaked enough to take him. Pushing on your back to lower your chest to the ground keeping your hips raised in the air. He watches as your needy hole grips around nothing begging to be stuffed. Slapping the head of his cock to your slick folds, he makes you whine you jump forward and hum at the abuse.

“Oh? You're a sensitive one huh?”

One last slap echoes through the room with your moaning before slipping into your velvet walls causing your fingers to spread out and grip the floor as he pushes himself in keeping his large hand on your hips. Slowly rolling his hips into you, his massive cock splitting you open deliciously, the stretch making you moan out and arch further into him as he keeps his slow pace pushing himself deeper and deeper.

You're instantly coming undone on him, clamping down on him as you gasp from your release. The tightness causes him to bully into you harder still keeping his torturous slow pace. not even all the way in and your already creaming on his cock.

Your breath is completely knocked from you once he's bottomed out, he places his hand on your lower stomach, and he feels his hard cock bulging through you. He moans at the feeling, pressing harder and rubbing the tip through your soft skin, causing you to cry in pleasure and shudder at his rolling hand.

“Oh, you feel that don't you? Filling up that tight little pussy.” he leans over to your ear “Don't forget to breath kitty cat, I don't want you passing out”

Before you can quip back or ask what he means, he's slipping out of you to the tip then slamming back into you in and out in rapid succession, the air in your lungs getting banged out of you. Leaning over you again, he holds your head up by your chin. His chin rests comfortably on your shoulder and he breathes in your ear.

“Breath kitty, come on”

taking in deep breaths as your told he treats you by fucking you harder, completely rocking your body past what you though was your limits.

“That's my girl”

He continues his pace, sweat rolling down his tense muscles as he continues to fuck you relentlessly. You can't help but feel like he's trying to break you. Grabbing one of your outstretched arms he curls it so you're able to rub your clit.

“Touch yourself, I want to feel you cum on my cock again.” he pants in your ear.

Giving into his demands you rub quick circles on your spent clit, the coil in your stomach being rammed into by Miguel's brutal length. Your pussy starts to grip him harder, making him fuck into you faster than you thought you could even handle.

Knocking all air from you, your lungs are burning. It feels like you're running a marathon, sweat rolling down your body, the heat being trapped in your catsuit. Almost Like he can sense your body overheating Miguel rips your cat suit like it's made of paper. You moan at the sudden cooling of your wet skin. Kissing all over your bare back, Miguel's large hands grab onto your bouncing breast, causing your nipples to suddenly peak from his pinching and tugging.

“Come on kitty, cum for me,” he says breathlessly, gripping harder onto you.

“Miguel…” You start to moan, your cunt clenched around him, the echoing of wet squelching and skin slapping together egging you both on. Before you know it you're squirting on his hard length, screaming in pleasure then quickly in overstimulation as he doesn't let up, only pushing harder and harder. Your third orgasm hits you too fast and leaves you crying out as your brain completely shuts down to a white fog. The pain mixes into unbelievable pleasure.

Finally, you feel your insides heat up. Feeling Miguel's cold sweat dropping onto your back as he finally came again with a loud moan and shuddering of his muscular body. The heat of his hot seed paints your insides white, as his cool sweat drips down on you. The mix of hot and cold has you twitching underneath him as he slows his thrusting to a snail's pace. Your eager pussy milks him of all his hot load.

He finally pulls out of you after he is thoroughly drained. You feel the sticky mix of both your arousal leaking out to your thighs. Rolling to your back you press your fingers to your fucked hole in a vain attempt to keep the warmth in.

Miguel stands up and examines you, he chuckles to himself as he watches you try to keep his seed inside. Scooping you up in his arms he walks you to his office bathroom to clean you up. Exhausted, you rest your head on his warm chest, slowly catching your breath. Sure this wasn't your plan but you have a feeling that you have been successful in surprising him. As he carries you can't help yourself falling asleep in his arms.

----

“Miguel! What is everyone talking about saying you have a pet cat now?”

Peter walks into Miguel's office but promptly freezes when he sees you asleep on a couch wrapped up in a large blanket. Miguel turns from his screens to meet Peter's confused gaze. Miguel looks towards you with affection watching you blissfully sleep.

“Yeah, a stray followed me home. I think I’m going to keep her”

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jgracie · 28 days

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💭 DO YOU THINK I HAVE FORGOTTEN ABOUT YOU?

masterlist | rules

in which jason wakes up on a random bus with a random girl and the feeling of your hand in his

pairing jason grace x fem!reader

warnings none as far as im aware!

an my first piece of writing on here!!! very very excited :) i know this has probs been done SO much but i had to make it my first fic LOL feel free to give any feedback!

Jason would say he’s never experienced anything crazier than what he was going through at the moment, but he couldn’t recall anything from before he woke up on that bus - not even his own age, or his so-called ‘friends’, one of which was holding his hand right now. She was pretty, but something about it felt very wrong. She didn’t hold his hand like how he was used to, which was another strange thing. Out of all memories his brain could’ve retained, it chose the feeling of someone’s hand in his.

“Jason, you okay?” The girl asked, snapping him out of his thoughts. Nothing was okay, but Jason managed to keep his composure as best as he could. As the day progressed, he eventually figured out many things: his friends’ names (Piper and Leo), the fact that he’s a demigod (that one came to him naturally) and that there was a special extraction team looking for him and his friends. However, none of it was what he was looking for. While he enjoyed gathering more information about the puzzle pieces of his life, ever since Jason had opened his eyes on that bus, there’d been a specific memory that definitely wasn’t fully gone. He’d almost gotten it when he remembered the way someone’s thumb would gently stroke his hand as their fingers interlocked, but it wasn’t fully there yet, not until Piper asked him about the bracelet he hadn’t even noticed he was wearing.

It was simple, just purple and white beads on a string with an initial that definitely wasn’t his dangling off of it, but Jason was surprised he hadn’t noticed earlier. As soon as he laid eyes on it, he knew it was one of his most prized possessions.

Without missing a beat, Jason said, “Oh, this? It was a gift from Y/N.”

Ever since then, nothing was the same. All Jason could think about was her. Somehow, the bracelet had unlocked the vault of memories of them he didn’t even know he had. It didn’t matter if he slept in the cold, harsh atmosphere of Cabin One or on a random piece of ground during their quest, his dreams were always the same. Their first meeting, him helping her with her sparring, her laugh – Gods, her laugh! If that’s what it sounded like in his dream, he couldn’t even begin to fathom what it must be like in real life. All of these little moments slowly began coming back to him and when Jason found out that they’d all be going to Camp Jupiter, his home, he was buzzing with excitement. He’d begun journaling his experiences out of fear that he’d forget again, and he couldn’t wait to be able to tell you all about what he was up to.

Time flies by when you’re having fun. Soon enough, Leo was done with building the Argo II and the three, along with Annabeth, began heading for Camp Jupiter. That’s when the worries began consuming Jason’s mind. As far as he was aware, despite clearly sharing some romantic moments with you, you two never formally started dating before he got whisked away by Hera. It's been months since that happened, what if you found someone else? He wouldn’t have blamed you, he probably broke your heart.

Surprisingly, it was Piper who comforted him. Piper, who’d been fed a fantasy and led on simply for the sake of some Goddess’ schemes. Piper, whose heart he definitely broke the moment he mentioned your name.

“It’ll be fine, Jason,” she said, standing next to him as Camp Jupiter slowly began coming into view, “the worst is over. I’m sure Y/N will understand once we explain everything. She clearly loves you a lot, trust me.”

For some reason, maybe her godly heritage working its magic, he did believe Piper. Although things had been awkward with her, she meant a lot to him, and he’d felt really bad during the conversation they had after their first quest together, so he was glad she wasn’t secretly mad at him. Turning away from her, Jason now gazed upon the shapes of his home with a newfound confidence.

And then he saw you. Whatever his brain managed to come up with in his dreams paled in comparison to the real thing. You seemed to glow and glimmer and shine and all those wonderful things as you walked towards the Argo II with Reyna. While Percy and Annabeth had their heartfelt (albeit strange) reunion, you shared your own.

“Jase!” You said, running to him. Immediately, he picked you up and spun you around. He knew he was probably getting really strange looks from his fellow Romans, but he didn’t care. This wasn’t about them.

Putting you down, Jason wiped a stray tear from your cheek as you began to speak, your voice shaky with nerves, “thank the Gods you’re back! I was so worried when Percy came here and didn’t remember anything, I prayed day and night to anyone who’d listen to bring you home to me with your memories intact. I don’t know what I would’ve done if…” You faltered, unable to even utter the words out of fear they may come true.

Luckily, Jason had many words for you, starting with these: “do you seriously think I’d forget about you?”

#jason grace x reader #jason grace x you #jason grace x y/n #jason grace #jason grace x fem reader #percy jackson #pjo #percy jackson x reader #pjo x reader #jason grace fanfic #pjo fanfic #percy jackson fanfic #jason grace drabble #cynwrites

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ohtobeleah · 10 months

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Way Down We Go // Jake Seresin

Summary: Burnout isn't an academic exercise. No. It's an all-consuming, systemic condition. It's your entire body sending you one clear message. Something has to change and it has to change now.

Warnings: Angst. Mental health talks. Jake Seresin x F!reader. Friends to Lovers to ex’s to enemies to friends to lovers trope.

Word Count: 3.5k

Author Note: Based off my own recent experience with Burn Out. Writing this helped me process some of my pent up frustration with accepting the fact I experienced my first real major burn out at 24.

In 2019, the World Health Organisation officially recognised “Burnout” in its international classification of diseases. Studies show that aviators who report signs of burnout have enlarged amygdalas. The area in the brain that regulates fear and aggression.

But burnout isn't an academic exercise. No. It's an all-consuming, systemic condition. It's your entire body sending you one clear message. Something has to change and it has to change now.

Put simply, Burnout comes from a deep imbalance. Too much stress with too few rewards. You're exhausted. Depleted. You no longer have patience, pleasure of serotonin. This is the end unless–

You turn it into something else and find your path to recovery. Pick the pieces you want from your life and find a new way forward. But sometimes it isn't all that simple. Sometimes the all-consuming is just that, it's all-consuming–

And sometimes it's easier to drop the deadweight than to try and carry it on your shoulders.

“Anyone see Rouge today?” It was Hangman's tone that sent a shiver down Roosters spine as he scoffed down the turkey sandwich he had slapped together this morning in the rec room. “We’re on the schedule together after break and I haven't seen her all day?” Rooster knew exactly where you were. At home, probably in bed under a plethora of blankets just trying to catch up on some sleep.

“I uh–” Rooster was raised by an intelligent and loving woman who had always told him not to talk with his mouth full, but in times like these where every second mattered, that rule seemed more obsolete with every day that passed him by. He did however, make an effort to cover his mouth as he chewed and spoke. “Actually I think I’m with you this afternoon, Mav just hasn't had a chance to change the schedule.” It wasn't technically a lie.

“Is Rogue not in today?” Jake frowned as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Or is she just avoiding me or something?” You and Jake Seresin had a complicated history. On again and off again romantically, on again off again friends, but these days it seemed to be that the two of you were more off than on. To the point where if you could avoid it, the two of you would ignore each other's existence completely. It was easier that way.

Which meant Jake didn't know just how bad things had gotten for you. He didn't know you’d decided to take an extended leave of absence from work until you could figure out just what the hell was wrong with you. He didn't know that Rooster had been at your house last night on a welfare check mission. He felt it was his responsibility, after all you were his uncle's daughter.

“Kerners decided to take some time off work.” Rooster explained the best he could without giving too much detail about your personal problems away. “After yesterday's mishap, she got spooked and asked Simpson for a few days to collect her thoughts.”

Jake swore his heart left his body when he saw you lose control for those few seconds. All he could do was watch on in pure horror as you tried to regain control of your fighter jet after getting caught in his jet wash. You panicked, something that was completely out of the ordinary for you which led to you losing control of your F-18 for those brief moments in time.

Jake wanted to talk to you after you landed, but within seconds of touching down you were heading straight for the locker room to grab your things. Unbeknownst to him it was your final straw. He hadn’t seen you since. And now Bradshaw was telling him you weren't in at all and wouldn't be for a while? Things weren’t adding up. Not to Jake. This wasn’t like you at all.

“What aren't you telling me, Rooster?” Jake pressed as he paced up and down the rec room with his arms folded. He cared about you, he just didn’t know how to convey that care. He’d never not care about you.

“I’m not not telling you anything.” Bradley replied, he looked like a deer caught in Jake's headlights. “We should get ready for our next hop man.” Bradley tried his best to change the subject, the subject being you and your mental stability. “I’m sure if Rogue has something to say she’ll say it.” He shrugged as he stood, knowing that Jake was probably the last person you would ever want to come clean to about being so vulnerable. “We better get going.”

“You’d tell me if she wasn’t alright, wouldn’t you?” Again, the tone Jake used sent a shiver down Bradley’s spine. He knew how tramaltious your relationship was. “If Kerner wasn’t alright you’d let me know?” Jake didn’t need Bradley to reply, his silence spoke louder than any excuse he could make up on the spot. “Dammit Bradshaw—“

“She didn’t want you to know!”

“Know what!?” Jake hissed. He didn’t raise his voice in fear of bringing any sort of unwanted attention to the situation, but he was worried. Worried about what he didn’t know, worried about you. The best friend he couldn’t talk to. The love of his life he couldn’t admit to. You were the only woman in the world who knew how to take his breath away, in more ways than one. “God Rooster, just tell me what’s going on!”

“She’s afraid to burn in—“ Bradley sighed as he held the bridge of his nose and hung his head in shame. You trusted him like an older brother and yet here he was, spilling your dirty mental health laundry to the only person you begged him not to tell. Jake Seresin, the love of your life that drove you insane. Your best friend who you couldn’t confide in, the only man who made you want to shoot for the moon and capture all the stars too. “She took an extended leave, told the Admirals they either needed to sign off on the paperwork or they’d be signing her death notice.” It was hard to hear because to Jake this was coming out of nowhere. “She just needs time.” Jake didn’t know how to respond, but most importantly he didn’t know how to react.

“I don’t have time for all this melodrama, Rooster.” Jake shook his head in disbelief. “If Rogue wants to throw her career away because of a few bad days so be it but I’m not sympathetic.” It was the only response Jake knew how to give, but he was panicking on the inside. “I’ll see you for pre-flight checks.”

“I think it’s more than just a few bad days, Hangman.” Bradley wasn’t going to say when he saw you last night he hardly recognised you. “She’s hid it well.” In all the time Bradley had known you, he’d never seen you this bad before. It was serious. He’d experienced his own burn out a few years back just after the Uranium mission. Before you joined the Daggers. It had taken its toll on him a hell of a lot more than he was prepared for. “She hid it so well I didn’t even know something was up until she was on the edge already.”

In that very moment Bradley came to realised why you didn’t want Jake to know you were struggling, you didn’t want him to know that if given the chance you’d quit tomorrow because the burn out you were in was so entirely consuming that it made it hard to even get out of bed. When was the last time you ate?

“She hid it so well it’s almost hard to believe, don't you think?” Jake snapped over his shoulder as he left the rec room, completely in denial about the fact you didn’t let him in.

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

The entire day had passed you by before you even contemplated the idea of getting out of bed. The idea in and of itself seemed exhausting. Expending any kind energy other than the minimal amount to breath seemed like a chore.

Your stomach grumbled as you sat up and looked out the window that nestled itself beside your bed—pushed up against the wall just the way you liked it. It was dark, the day had passed and even though you couldn’t be bothered doing anything, the idea you’d wasted a full day in bed made you feel like shit. Plain and simple. You felt like crap and there was no one else to blame for that intense feeling of disappointment than yourself.

As you climbed over your mess of linen and covers, a not so subtle knock began to echo out through your apartment.

“Rooster!” You groaned, pressing your forehead into your mattress as you slumped in defeat. “Go away! I told you I’m fine!” You weren’t fine, you just didn’t want anyone worrying about you. You had this under control right? Even if you didn’t know what was happening to you.

When the knocking persisted you knew you had to let Bradley in, he’d camp out in the hall before he left without seeing you.

“My god I told you I’m fine!” You groaned as you made your way down the hall. Still in the same clothes you went to bed in yesterday afternoon. “I don’t need you doing welfare checks on me every dam—“ As you opened the door, it took you a second to register that it wasn’t Bradley standing out in the hall. “Jake?” You frowned, suddenly feeling a hell of a lot more vulnerable than you did six minutes ago. “What are you doing here?”

“Bradshaw said you’re on leave?” Was all Jake said as he stepped into your apartment, it still felt like home despite the fact he hadn’t been over in months since your last bust. “What gives Rogue?” He was still in his flight suit, usually Jake showed before leaving base. But you were the priority right now. He just needed to see you. See for himself what the hell was going on.

You watched as Jake made his way into your home, into your sacred space without so much as an afterthought that he may be intruding. He never did think his actions through if he wasn’t inside an F-18.

“Is that your way of asking me if I’m alright?” You rolled your eyes as you shut the front door, making a note to lock it behind you in case any other nosie aviators with callsigns that belonged to the flightless bird community came knocking.

“It’s my way of asking what gives—“ Jake made sure to correct you. “So what gives? It’s not like you to take a break, you’re as good as they come—don’t actually get any better if you want my personal opinion.” It wasn’t a secret that you and Jake rotated as ‘The Best’ like a rositery chicken. He was on top one week and suddenly it was you by just a few points. But the sentiment remained, you were the only one who ever came close to matching Jake Seresin. It was just in your DNA.

“Yeah I don’t remember asking for it.” You hissed, pushing past Jake as he stood in your hallway like a fungus you needed to get rid of before it had a chance to infect you. “Just because I’m the best doesn’t mean I don’t deserve a break from time to time.”

As you made your way down the hall toward your bedroom, Jake noticed the way your shoulders slumped just the slightest bit. He noticed the way you looked as if you hadn’t been out of bed all day, the way your hair looked like a bird's nest atop your head. And he wasn’t sure why you were wearing the T-shirt he thought he’d lost three weeks ago but as it turned out you had it all along.

“Y/n—“ Jake sighed as he watched you disappear into your room without so much as an explanation. “Wait.”

“I need to shower.” It was the toneless way you explained yourself that sent warning signals off in Jake's mind as he followed you.

“Hypothetically if I were to ask if you were doing okay would you tell me the truth?” You and Jake hadn’t always been so short with one another, but it was just the way it was now. It was the dynamic you were used to but loathed so much. You just wanted him to love you the way you saw in all the Disney films that were crammed down your throat as a kid.

But Jake couldn’t. It wasn’t in his DNA.

“Probably not, but like I told Bradshaw last night, I’m fine, just needed some time off work.” You shrugged as you fished through your dresser for a fresh pair of socks. Jake just stood off to the side, unsure of what to make of the mess that was your room. Usually you made it a note to keep your space clean and tidy. But when Jake looked around all he saw was complete chaos, a quick look into the inside of your mind looked like.

“Isn’t that what weekends and annual leave is for?” He mumbled just loud enough for you to hear.

“Couldn’t wait—I’m taking this unpaid and uninterrupted, so if you’ll excuse me, I need to shower.”

“Don’t lie to me.” It came out more like a plea than a demand but it still didn’t sit right with you. You knew Jake Seresin didn’t care about anyone but himself. You’d known him long enough to know that he was selfishly egomaniacal. He didn’t care, not about you anyway. “Don’t lie to me Kerner—“

Jake had stopped you from moving any further towards your ensuite, with a gentle hand wrapped around your forearm.

“I’m. Fine.” You had grit your teeth together to stop yourself from breaking. The force was enough to make your jaw ache. “Let. Me. Go.”

“Really?” Jake challenged. “Because I’m standing on a pile of washing that smells like the inside of Fanboys locker.”

“What has that got to do with anything!” As you ripped your arm out of Jake's grip he was quick to follow you into your bathroom. “I’m behind on laundry, big deal.”

“It’s a big deal for you!” You could feel yourself crumbling the more Jake pressed you for the truth. “I don’t know what’s going on but—“

“Oh what exactly do you want me to say Jake? That I get up and then all day I'm tired, and that I wanna take a nap all day?” Everything you had been trying to hold in and deny was finally bubbling to the surface. “Do you want to hear me say that I have no motivation? That I don't wanna do anything.”

“Y/n—“ Jake tried to interrupt as you threw your stuff on the bathroom floor in a heap. “It’s—“ There wasn’t a single thing Jake could say that could comfort you once the damn had been broken, you had held it all in for so long.

“That I don't want to work, I can’t Jake because if I’m not in my own mind than I could kill myself up there or even worse–I could kill one of you!”

All Jake could do was to stand there and listen as you let him know everything you had been struggling with for the past few months, slowly losing yourself day by day. You didn’t know what was wrong with you, why you felt this way, why all the enjoyment and all of the life had been sucked out of you.

“I don't want to talk to anyone, especially you!” It was then you shoved at Jake’s chest, completely fed up with your emotional turmoil. He didn’t fight back, no. Jake simply held you close to his chest as he pulled you into a warm embrace that you so desperately needed. “I don't want to hang out with anyone, I don’t wanna watch TV or read a book or even go on my phone but at the same time as all of that I'm so bored! I don't care about anything because all that I care about is just surviving.”

“You’re burnt out Rogue—“

“I’m not!!” Jake swore black and blue that was what you’d been trying to get at. “I can’t be burnt out!” He was even more confused than he was when Rooster had tiptoed around the situation earlier that same day. “My dad burnt out when he was at the height of his career and you know what he did?” Jake knew, he loved your dad like his own. Ron Slider Kerner was one of the best men Jake had ever had the pleasure of knowing. “He became a goddamn airline pilot!” There was anger in your voice, a deep sadness that Jake didn’t understand, what was so wrong with being an airline pilot?

“Y/n, Y/n—“ Jake held you as tight as he could. He hadn’t held you like this in what felt like forever. “You’re gonna be okay.” Your head dipped just perfectly under his chin as you broke, there was nothing worse than crying into the arms of the man you loved and hated all at once. “I’m here, you’re gonna be fine.”

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” It was the sadness in your cry for help that broke Jake's heart the most, how long had you been dealing with this by yourself? How long had you been telling the people closest to you that you were fine when you really weren’t. “Why can’t I just—“ You couldn’t breathe. “Why can’t I—“ You couldn’t finish your sentences without nearly gasping for air. “I—I can’t—“

“Okay, you’re alright, come with me. Something about Jake Seresin that surprised you the most was the way he dealt with panic attacks. For a guy as level headed as him he sure suffered in silence for the longest time. But you knew—it was one of the reasons you thought Jake couldn’t stand you half the time.

You knew his biggest weakness. Himself.

“Sit.” Jake led you over to the side of your bed as he knelt on his knees before you. “Now just breathe with me alright, I’ve got you.” It was the calming tone in his beautiful voice that had you giving yourself entirely to him. You didn’t want to be trapped inside your own head anymore. “There’s nothing wrong with you Rogue, everyone goes through burnout, it’s a part of life.” Jake wasn't diminishing your feelings, but from his own experience he knew that there was a weight on your shoulders you needed to rid yourself of. “And it’s real, and it’s valid and it doesn’t mean you aren’t incredibly good at what you do.”

“I can’t handle the pressure—“

“No, you put too much pressure on yourself, that’s what you can’t handle.”

“Oh what do you care Jake!” He’d never seen you like this, so lost and so broken. “Why are you even here right now!”

“Because I care about you! Why else would I be here, huh?” Jake cupped your cheeks gently as he wiped away the tears that streamed down your supple cheeks. “I care about you and when Bradshaw told me you took a leave of absence I knew something was up. This isn’t you.” It was the truth, it wasn’t you and that’s why it scared you so much. You didn’t feel like yourself. “Baby, this isn’t you.”

All you did was cry in Jake's slightly rough palms as he kneeled before you and tried to do what he could to just be present. He hated seeing you like this, so out of your mind and dealing with an existential crisis. But Jake knew what it was like to experience burnout.

“I can’t be burn out—“

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not real?” That was probably the stupidest thing Jake had ever heard you say. “My mum always used to say that being burnt out was just an excuse for not being good enough, it was a cop out.”

“Something tells me that’s a reason why your parents divorced huh?” You couldn’t hold back the small chuckle that escaped through the sobs. “Y/n, what you're experiencing right now is so real it’s not funny—burnout is real and I reckon once you accept that? It’s going to be easier to overcome than to fight off.”

“You seem to know an awful lot about this for a guy who’s as confident as ever.”

“Contrary to popular belief Rogue, I wasn’t born the best.” Jake winked as he leaned in to kiss your forehead. “How about you go have that shower and I’ll order some food and we can talk about it, all of it.”

“Is this your way of trying to get in my pants?”

“Mmm—it usually would be, but no, not this time.” Jake admitted as he graciously helped you stand as you sighed out a deep breath. “I’m here to help, can’t leave my wingwoman behind.”

“I love you Seresin.” You smiled softly as you pressed your lips together in a fine line. It was hard to admit, but you’d never not love Jake. “Thanks for showing up.” Jake mimicked your smile before his lips pressed into a fine line of their own. He nodded softly before you turned on your heels, heading into the bathroom before shutting the door behind you.

“I love you too.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

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