#okay who sent this *eyes certain people closely*

[totalswag]

okay so rafe x brat!reader with a huge attitude towards everyone around her ??? only rafe could make her calm down n behave omg the dream

attitude attitude - RAFE CAMERON

authors note pretty sure you sent me request before you sent me this one but THANK YOU for this idea. i can definitely see rafe being the only one to calm brat!reader down in these certain circumstances. just the thought of rafe doing this ugh only a girl could dream 😫.

requests are still open so feel free to send them my way. if you click on the bold red font it will take you to my ask box lovies!!!

summary brat!reader has a huge attitude towards everyone and her boyfriend rafe is the only one to calm her down.

warnings drinking, smoking, cursing, possible fight, making out, implied smut

Rafe and you were on our way to a kook party, which had been the talk of Kildcare for quite some time. The traffic lights made the drive take ten minutes. Rafe had his right hand on your thigh and the other on the steering wheel.

Rafe let out a breath, turning his head in your direction as you look out the passenger window, "Y/N before we get to the party, please be on your best behavior tonight," you turn your head around looking at him confused.

"And what if I'm not on my best behavior?" You smirk, tilting your head to the side.

Rafe laughs as he turns the corner toward the house. "You already know what will happen, princess," he says in the tone that just gets you going.

One thing about you have a bad attitude towards everyone around you. You have a short temper and become overstimulated easily. Rafe is the only person who can calm you down and behave in certain situations.

You say what needs to be said and don't care whose feelings get hurt. You have no fear confronting someone that's been talking about you or anyone you care for in a negative way.

If anything, Rafe and you are nearly the same, except you are worse.

The party has undoubtedly been the topic of much discussion during the last week. Outside, music can be heard, as can voices. Rafe held your hand as you two entered the big house, which smelled of weed, alcohol, people making out, and bodies grinding against each other. To move around the house, you have to squeeze.

A few guys recognized Rafe- calling out his name, waving, or dabbing him up.

"The fuck you looking at?" You question a group of girls who give you a filthy look as you walk past them with Rafe.

Rafe squeezed your waist after you snapped at the girls, "remember what I said princess."

You rolled your eyes as you let out a huff at his comment but on the inside you wanted to get on your knees for that man. There's something about the way the word princess rolls off his tongue.

Rafe and you parted ways after spending a majority of time together in the first half n hour. He went to hang out with the guys, while you are with some of your girlfriends. You two trust each other enough to be away from each other at parties like these.

He was out on the balcony which wasn't far from where you were. So if anything were to happen he would be there in a second.

Your girlfriends and you were in the living room, sitting on the couch with drinks in our hands after dancing for thirty minutes in the large crowd to the music which was still packed with sweaty bodies rubbing against one another.

"This party is packed," Olivia, one of your girlfriends, exclaimed while gazing around.

The rest of you are nodding in agreement with Olivia's comment.

"Josh will have a lot to pick up in the morning," you say, taking a sip from your drink, talking about the guy who's hosting the party.

You noticed the group of girls you snapped at earlier walking up to where you and your friends were seated; they stood close enough for you to hear what they were saying.

You tell your friends about the little incident. They all agreed it wasn't that big of a deal. You were wondering why they were giving you a dirty look for no reason.

"Can you believe that bitch came in with her guy earlier? I can't believe Rafe is even with that girl," the girl shouts to her friends, clearly affected by the situation. Her friends all agreed and saying their imput.

Who do these girls think they are? You think.

Thalia's jaw dropped as she heard what the girl said. Thalia rushes to look at you, but she already sees you standing up to confront the group of girls.

"This isn't going to end well, get Rafe right now," Olivia runs towards Thalia, pointing to the balcony.

Thalia sprints to the balcony to grab Rafe and the guys. Olivia looks in your direction with worry- she knows you like the back of her hand.

"Like Rafe can do so much better than that sl-" The girl was cut off when you poked her on the shoulder. She turns around about to see who tapped her but shuts her mouth when it's you.

"You wanna finish what you were gonna say?" You ask in a serious tone, crossing your arms over your chest, "because it's really funny hearing you lame asses talking shit about me over something so minor," you remark with a straight face.

Your blood was boiling.

The girl that was talking the most scoffs, putting her hair over her shoulder. "I said that Rafe can do much better than being with a slut like you" she steps close to your face.

Her little posy agreed and putting in their input.

These bitches sound dumb.

You can't help but laugh: "You sound very insecure, you all do in fact," pointing at them. "Calling me a bitch because I clapped back cause you three were giving me a dirty look when I walked in mind my business with my boyfriend?" The tone in your voice indicated that you were not messing around.

She puts her index finger on your chest, "Oh honey that's not us being insecure it's just us stating facts. Plus you are a bitch" she says giving a fake smile.

The moment her finger laid on your chest everything in you was telling you to rip her face off.

You forcefully swap her hand off your chest, taking her off guard with your strength. She glances at you, slightly afraid, but remains calm. Her friends' eyes almost fell out of their sockets.

Other's around have their phones out and waiting for something to happen. To them this is entertainment.

"Am I a bitch for calling you out for giving me a dirty look? Listen, bitch, I have never met you before in my life. I don't care what comes out of my mouth because I'll say what needs to be said." At this point, you are eating the girl up and she has nothing else to say since she knows you are correct.

After you finish your sentence, she rolls her eyes and extends her arms, pushing you back slightly, taking you by surprise. She glances at you, still wanting more. You aren't the kind to fight, but she put her hands on you first.

Your girlfriends rush over immediately. No matter what happens your girls will always have your back.

Before you swung you felt two strong arms wrap themselves around your waist, pulling you away from the fight that's about to happen.

"What did I tell you princess?" Rafe calmly asks you in your ear. He could feel the tension in your body on a hundred.

The group of girls begin giggling, "Aw, you need your boyfriend to pull you away from that mu-" Rafe instantly hushed her up, "You shut the fuck up!" he said sternly, pointing at her and gazing at her straight-faced.

Others around started laughing.

Rafe halted in front of the host, Josh, and told him to kick the group of girls out of the party. Josh nods and instructs the girls to leave due of the ruckus they created.

Rafe took you upstairs to a room for you to cool down. He knows what to do in situations like these- always gives you reassurance, gives you a cold bottle of water, telling you that everything's going to be okay and to take deep breath's.

When your body is placed on the bed carefully, you let out a frustrated sigh, running your hands through your hair, shaking your head. Ranting about the encounter that happened.

Rafe stands between your open legs, gently grasping your chin with his thumb and pointer finger, and tilting your head back slightly to make eye contact with him.

"Princess you are okay, focus on the sound of my voice, yeah?" He says in a calming tone that relaxes you, placing the front section of your hair behind your ear.

The more Rafe calms you down the more relaxed you feel. Words cannot explain how you appreciated him. You can't imagine how you could get out of this moment without him helping you out of it.

"There you go, just keep repeating that," Rafe says as you take long breathes in and out.

Once you calmed down enough you looked up to Rafe, still standing between your legs, looking at you with his blue eyes.

"Thank you for calming me down- I love you," you say, smiling with your teeth, "of course, anything for my girl. I know how you get in these types of situations and it's my job to calm you down" he says before kissing your lips softly.

When he pulls away you ask him the question, "Are you mad at me?" You asked curiously.

"No, I'm not, but it was really hot seeing you like that," he grins as he plays with the gold necklace he got you with his first initial.

You cover your face with your palm, blushing. Rafe takes your hand away, putting it back on your lap and moving closer to you, causing your back to hit the bed's comforter.

You two look into each other's eyes and then kiss. The sexual tension in the room starts to rise. You both crave each other's touch in the most intimate way.

"I want you Rafe," you moan between kisses, "so bad" dragging out the d, running your hands down his clothed chest.

"I'm all yours."

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[sungbeam]

𝐛𝐞𝐝𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐬

jeong yunho x gn!reader

1.1k words, friends 2 friends who cuddle ?, one bed trope, fluff, humor, like two swear words cuz who am i without cursing, snuggling, consequences of yunho being Tall (implied that reader is shorter than yunho)

a/n: im sorry that this kinda sucks ass but yeah,, one bed trope :')

“OH MY FUCKING GOD, I'm going to hate this,” Jeong Yunho swore as his head poked up into the attic space, eyes wide in horror.

When the inn owners said that the attic was hardly an attic, they unfortunately were not exaggerating. It was close to a crawl space, with just enough room for you to stand up straight, and outfitted with an extra long twin bed, nightstand and lamp, a pillow, and two large sherpa wool blankets. The bed was fitted beneath the slope of the roof because the entire space wasn't even large enough to put the bed in the middle.

You were starting to sweat, and considering there wasn't even heating up here, you raced to calm your nerves. “It'll be fine,” you said with a small, anxious laugh.

Yunho moved his terrified eyes up to you. “Respectfully? I'm gonna go sleep in the storm.”

When he moved to descend the ladder, you slid on your knees to grab hold of his wrist. “Come on, big guy. It's one night.”

“Yn, what if I said I was claustrophobic, huh?” He whined, but reluctantly followed you all the way up the ladder and into the attic. He straightened—big mistake. You heard the loud thump as his head met the roof, and grimaced. “Oooow!”

You hissed and reached over to gently rub the place that began to smart when he leaned down. “Are you okay?”

“No,” he whimpered. “Can I sleep in the lobby?”

Around ten minutes later, after many trials and tribulations and head bonks, you and Yunho somehow transferred your duffle bags up the ladder and into your glorified crawl space. They took up the space just beside the ladder and at the foot of the bed, and as you stared at said twin bed, you wondered if Yunho's legs would even fit on it.

Most likely not.

In fact, you were certain that two people couldn't even fit on the bed unless they were either on top of each other or packed together like sardines.

You reminded yourself that it was only going to be one night. This was what the two of you got for leaving five hours after everyone else, just to get caught in tonight's awful storm and stuck with the only “room” available for miles. In retrospect, it was your fault. Yunho had been generous enough in offering to stay behind with you until you finished your last exam.

“You can have the bed,” you told him as you were both crouched by your bags to grab clothes to sleep in. Despite your realization about your counterpart's long limbs and the bed's shortcomings, you wanted to extend an offer of chivalry.

Yunho twisted around and sent you an incredulous look. “What?”

“You drove us up here,” you replied with a shrug. You swiftly draped your sleep clothes over one arm and gathered your bag of toiletries in the other. “And you waited for me to finish my exam and you're kinda being dealt the short end of the stick with this room.”

He sat down on the floor with his knees pulled up to his chest, and though his face was still pulled into the same expression, he laughed. “Yn, I hate to break it to you, but I think you're gonna fit better on that bed than I will.”

You pursed your lips, gazing over at the narrow slot on the floor between the other sloping roof and the bed. That was the only other place someone could sleep in this room. “I don't want you to sleep on the floor though.”

“I know I was complaining, but don't worry about it,” he reassured as he turned back to dig through his duffle. He flicked his wrist blindly in your direction. “You can wash up first; I'll set everything up.”

Since he left little to no room for argument, you resolved to do as he suggested. There was a community washroom on the floor below that you made your way toward. As unfortunate as your accommodation was for the night, you were eager to head back up and go to sleep. Yours and Yunho's friends were all waiting at Seonghwa's cabin already, and perhaps it wasn't just exhaustion that made you antsy for this night to get a move on.

You and Yunho just needed to get through tonight. It would be fine.

When you returned to the attic crawl space, Yunho had everything set up as he said he would. He'd found an extra set of sheets from one of the downstairs closets and laid it on the ground by the bed, then rationed one of the blankets for himself and the other for you on the bed.

You let out a tired sigh and trudged over to the bed to grab the pillow from where it rested on the headboard. You set the pillow instead at the head of Yunho's sleeping situation, then balled up one of your jackets to use as your own pillow. Once satisfied, you climbed into bed, and you were out like a light.

Everything was hazy as you emerged from deep sleep to confused half-consciousness. The room was descended into darkness, the sounds of light rain drumming steadily against the sloped rooftop above your head. Your brain felt like it was stuffed with cotton—why had you suddenly woken up?

Then you heard it.

“Achoo.” Then another one. And another one.

Even half dead, your brain could put two and two together. You rolled over slightly to wave your arm over the side of the bed, hand flapping around until you bumped Yunho's shoulder. “Hey, Yunho.”

Another sneeze.

“Yun, get your butt up here.”

He grunted. “'m fine.”

“You're gonna get sick,” you grumbled with your face half squished against your jacket zipper. That was definitely going to leave a mark in the morning. “Come up here, for fuck's sake.”

He made another noise, perhaps of acknowledgment, before you heard sounds of movement.

You kept your eyes half-lidded to keep as much light out as possible, and rolled over again. As he crawled onto his knees, and then his feet, you opened up your blanket to him so he could join you.

“Pillow,” he slurred—you whined when it hit you in the face. “Sorry.”

In a drowsy drugged tango, you swapped your jacket out for the pillow and Yunho wormed his way onto the bed beneath your blanket. You scooted as close to the wall as you could, but even then, Yunho was pressed flush against you. His arms came around your waist, his nose wedging itself between your neck and shoulder until he was comfortable.

“Your feet are cold,” you muttered. “Get them under the blanket.”

“Too tall.”

“Show off.”

He huffed out a puff of air against your neck like a laugh, then tucked his knees up slightly to fit under the blanket. Your legs were now tangled among his, your bodies curled tightly together. In the morning, you would rationalize it out as creating body heat to prevent either of you from getting sick.

When movement stopped, you voiced into the darkness, “Better?”

A content sigh. “Better.”

Maybe this accommodation wasn't so bad after all.

ateez m.list

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[cheriladycl01]

Ghost - Oscar Piastri x UnknownDriver! Reader Part 1

Plot: Reader is the first female F1 driver of the century, however no-one knows that as you are a ghost on the grid. You started in 2022, coming in P12 in the championship. You get moved to Red Bull Racing in 2023 with the off year for Sergio Perez.

Credit to yrsonpurpose for the GIF

You stayed hidden in your racing suit. Your current team-mate didn't even know who you were, like the rest of the grid. It was fun being all secretive and undercover. You didn't drive with your real name, and when your radio was aired it was only text. You could actually live like a normal person with no pressures. You didn't have to attend post-race interviews, or feel the pressure of the Paps everywhere you went. There was a certain level excitement of getting your first race win and being able to reveal to the grid who you were.

When you'd first been introduced as 'Ghost' people were confused at why you weren't using your real name. But you, as Y/N Y/L/N were always seen in the paddock and garages and you knew some of the drivers and they would often invite you to the after parties.

I mean you were posed as the media manager for 'ghost' which in itself was hilarious. You could post your own memes, and comment on your own driving. It was amazing.

However your home race, United Kingdom Silverstone was coming up.

You were so excited, even though you knew Lewis, George and Lando would be just as hyped up as you for the win. But this was the most motivated you'd been. Your family were in the crowd, the only people who knew it was you behind the helmet.

"Oh Oscar Hi" you greeted the other young driver.

"Hello" he said his thick aussie accent coming through.

"How's the ghost today then?" he asks, you'd been close for a while. He was actually your first friend here, it was funny actually how you bumped into him.

"You'd just finished up in Australia and had gotten your first podium finish in your rookie season. Oscar had been there as a reserve driver for Alpine and as you were fumbling in your drivers room, trying to rip your driving suit and balaclava off. You were making a lot of noise, and you'd tripped over yourself. You slung on your Alpine Team gear, tying your hair up in a ponytail and hiding the sweat under a cap.

A knock on your door had you stilled, you shoved the suit into a crate and moved across.

"Hello?" you'd asked swinging the door open, he jumped back a little seeing how quickly the door opened.

"Erm, hi isn't this Ghost's room?" he'd asked you. He was the reserve driver for Alpine and that's who ghost drove for in their first year.

"Your are not supposed to be here" you'd frowned looking at him.

"I know, but the engineers said i might find you here, to go answer some questions on Ghost's behalf, considering his er win today" he smiles awkwardly at you scratching the back of his neck. He watched as you eye him over.

"Who sent you?" you ask, it had to be the team principle right?

"Marcin, he was asking for you and Ghost" he explains.

"Well, its just going to be me, Ghost is preoccupied right now" you say slipping out and shutting the door.

"Hmmmm, its strange you are in his driver's room. Were you in there the whole race?" he asks cocking his head to the side.

"Erm, yes i don't like all the fuss in the garage so i tend to stay in there and watch"

"Ah okay" he's said before walking off ahead of you to show you exactly where you should be going.

That was how you'd become friends, you'd then heard around the Paddock that come 2023 he'd have his rookie season in McLaren while you moved to RedBull, or well Ghost did.

"You nervous about today?" he asks grinning, the question through you off and your head snapped up to meet his gaze.

"What do you mean, nervous? I'm not nervous. Its not like I'm the one driving... because i'm not" you say, with zero coolness and all the panic in your voice.

"You're rambling, of course you are nervous for Ghost. Today could be the day they take their first win. Would be cool!" he grins pulling you into a hug, he flicks your Red Bull cap a little before you fully tuck yourself into his large embrace.

"Oh yeah, i guess i am a little nervous for ghost but they are a good driver. I'm sure they'll get us some points"

"Yeah they're insane in the Red Bull this year. Rival for Max" he admits brushing a hand through his hair.

"

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[gatitties]

Care and comfort

─ Yandere!bonten x motherly!reader (platonic)

─ Summary: you were just trying to help someone and you ended up being the obsession of a criminal organization

─ Warnings: obsession, stalking, toxic behaviors, kidnapping, slight mention of drugs and stuff related

Part two / Part three / Part four / Part five

You turned on the light in your kitchen, almost tripping over one of the stools because your eyes were still half closed, you had fallen asleep correcting the last report that the newspaper where you worked had sent you. You had noticed that you hadn't even had dinner before, so you made a quick meal before heading back to work, but before you could touch your laptop you heard a crash at the front door, as if someone had collapsed and slammed against it.

It's not that you lived in one of the worst areas of the city, but it was strange that something happened in the wee hours of the morning, you walked slowly, opening the door, or trying to, because the body of a man was blocking the entrance, a few minutes of struggle was enough for the unconscious body to fall to the other side, leaving you to open the door completely and contemplate the man.

He had one of those mullets that were fashionable among young people, several earrings, some scars on his mouth and stains of what appeared to be vomit and blood, okay, you did not want to interfere with anyone who seemed to be a drug addict, but on second thought, it was better to help the man than to have to give statements to the police as to why there was a dead body at your door.

You dragged him home and laid him on the couch, laying him on his side so he wouldn't choke on his own vomit if he ever did, though after further scanning you decided he needed a good shower. You did not feel self-conscious in doing this job, you are of an age and you have worked in many things, among them you had a position taking care of the elderly, all kinds of care being more specific, so no, you did not feel uncomfortable having to wash this man.

You changed his clothes and put his striped suit in the wash, leaving him back on the sofa, you continued with your work, reading and quickly correcting the errors you found, the night passed quite quickly and you fell asleep once you were completely done your work, sending it to the head of the newspaper.

The next morning you woke up with a gun pointed at your temple and that man's pretty eyes staring back at you, good way to start the day indeed.

"Who the hell are you?"

"Are you young people these days so ungrateful? It was you who passed out on the doorstep of my house at two in the morning."

He lowered the gun, seeming to remember some parts of his night, he sat still a little bewildered and with his head elsewhere because of the drugs taken yesterday, he looked at you in silence now noticing his change of clothes as well as the smell of his hair, it was not the smell of his usual shampoo.

"Did you…?"

"Yes, oh, don't be ashamed, it's been a long time since I stopped being interested in that kind of thing, at a certain age the only thing one looks for is economic stability and peace of mind, are you going to stay for lunch?"

He blinked contemplating your calm form, he didn't know if he was still under the pressure of narcotics, but he didn't reject your proposal, Sanzu was anything but embarrassing, however he felt like a little boy next to you being cared for by the mother he never had.

For your part, he was not the first brat you helped, you had married friends, with grown children or adolescents who did not stop getting into small problems, you acted like the aunt who drinks wine and criticizes everyone at family gatherings, for your attitude, they found it easier to access you when they had problems they didn't want your friends ─their moms─ to know about, you always had their backs unless it was something that was detrimental to their health, then you wouldn't hesitate to call your friends to give their children a lecture, even as adults.

That same attitude was the one that made Sanzu visit you more often than he would like to admit, although most of the times he left scolded for coming home drunk or drugged, you never closed the door on him, how could you? You weren't heartless enough to leave him lying in the street when he came desperately asking for help with some of his hallucinations.

Your kindness led him to an obsession towards you, you were like his little lifeboat, his conscious part about all the madness in which he was involved, he began to watch you from afar, observing your interactions with strangers and friends, it bothered him, it bothered him that you were just as kind to others as you were to him, he wanted all your attention just for him. He was also worried about you, he had seen the worst part of the rotten world in which he lived, someone with a soft heart like you could not survive against the predators of this society.

Of course, Bonten executives were not stupid, usually most of them lived in the headquarters, they had private properties where they spent a few days or weeks, but most of the time they were in that headquarter, especially Sanzu, that's why they started to noticing his absence more and more, it's not like he had to explain himself to anyone ─except if Mikey asked him to─ but his behavior was strange, didn't he arrive drugged? It seemed like a bad joke, clothes without a bloodstain? he was definitely doing something outside their radar.

Not that the others cared much, but the Haitani brothers were a bit nosy, like gossips who want to know why their partner seems happier when he comes back in the morning after a night of 'fun'. They discussed it a couple of times with the others when Sanzu wasn't around, and they all agreed that his behavior was unusual, so they began to investigate what he did in his leisure.

This led to an ordinary person like you being watched by two executives of the largest criminal organization in the country. At first they thought that you were a whore with whom he had fallen in love, but investigating more about you, they discovered that you were a lady with an established daily life, there was nothing about you that stood out and yet you seemed so interesting.

"Sanzu please, I need to finish correcting this report, I promise you that later you can have all the hugs you want."

"No."

He tightened his grip on your waist, burying his face in the crook of your neck, you were trying to do your job but Sanzu found your hugs too comforting after you once found him crying ─from being drugged─, killing people leaves obstacles in any person and as much as he loved it, certain deaths of innocent people always ended up flying over his thoughts like ghosts that tormented him from time to time.

The sound of the doorbell made you stop typing, moving the man slightly away to go to open, you were not expecting a visitor which was strange to you, Sanzu felt a chill when you opened the door, meeting the eyes of the youngest of the Haitani directly, he got up quickly without even letting you ask what those guys wanted, he pulled you back before Ran could drag you with him.

"What the fuck are you two doing here?"

"Make sure you don't have too much fun, are you so in love that you forget the meetings?"

They started a little discussion while you looked blankly, you and Rindou looked at each other in silence while the other two talked, you greeted with a brief nod, thinking they were Sanzu's coworkers.

Luckily just when the discussion was getting more heated, a 'ding' coming from the oven threw everyone off concentration, taking advantage of this you got out of the man's strong grip, walking towards the kitchen to see that the cookies you had been working on before were ready.

"There are plenty of cookies for everyone, Sanzu you can invite your friends."

"They are not my friends!"

"That's very kind of you, we'd love to meet our friend's friend."

So you ended up having lunch with the three men in an awkward silence between them, due to the tension of which you preferred not to take into account, Ran and Rindou were quite nice and understood that you were not a love interest, nor did you want it, nor did you seek it. Alarm bells of boys without a mother figure going off again, of course you caught their interest more than before, they knew your background but not your personality, and they ended up falling into that obsession towards you, as if there was something that made them gravitate towards you, was it because of your simplicity? for your kind words? They didn't know it, but they were jealous that Sanzu could snuggle up against you and they would have to keep more of their distance.

Now you had three of Bonten's executives constantly visiting your house, whether it was asking you for small favors or advice on nonsense to asking you to make them cookies or food in general, they just desperately wanted your attention, like babies crying out for their mother.

This cycle of obsession only made the others begin to suspect that they were up to something, whether it was harmful to Bonten or not, Takeomi was the first to notice, Kokonoi the same, he noticed how the brothers spent a certain amount of money, which they didn't used to do that often, followed by Kakucho, Mochizuki and lastly Mikey.

So it led you to be kidnapped by Mochi after doing enough research on you, because they didn't take much notice of it at first when the brothers first noticed. You were tied hand and foot, a blindfold was removed after consciousness returned to you, you found yourself face to face with a man with immense dark circles and eyes full of lifeless, on his right side another man with a large scar on his face, on his left side another man with a small scar on his left eye.

You felt something cold touching your temple, again you had a gun pointed at you, held by the same boy who had kidnapped you, you turned your head also noticing another man with long white hair.

"Who are you and why do you have my executives after you?"

"Executives…?" you looked at everyone carefully, connecting the dots when you saw their tattoos "Oh- so that's why they never wanted to tell me what they worked for… are you some kind of organization? Like arms smuggling, money laundering or something?"

You took the situation calmly, that your life was hanging by a thread right now was not one of your biggest concerns, you had lived a full and happy life up to now, you had no regrets, you were mature enough to understand the point at which you were, the more the years go by, the less afraid you are of the things that used to terrify you when you were young.

"GET YOUR DIRTY HANDS OFF MY MOTHER!"

Everyone was surprised to see how Sanzu entered kicking Mochizuki so that the weapon flew out of his hands, away from you, the Haitani brothers followed closely untying you quickly while all those men had a discussion of looks, the dense silence was broken by your giggle, you were trying to control yourself as much as you could but it was impossible.

"My God, Sanzu, you just called me mom!?"

The boy's face was completely dyed in pink tones, all the attention was now focused on you while you let out a laugh at the slip that your child had, something made the hearts of others clench in pain when they heard your laugh, no matter how bad it sounded, whether it was asthmatic, uproarious, or silent laughter, it was like real music to the ears of all the executives at Bonten, including the leader. As if you had flipped a switch in the mind of their rotten minds, they now had a new interest in you, as if you had further triggered an obsession you were unaware of with the first three you met.

They began to understand why those three felt attracted to you, it was as if your mere presence was intoxicating for them, as if just listening to you or looking at you calmed their broken hearts, many alarms from boys without a mother figure, of course that was a triggering reason, all these men longed for that kind of love that they could hardly experience.

Now you had the criminal organization after you, not in a bad way, more like a bunch of men acting childishly because of your limited attention. One thing they were clear about without the need to speak, you were not going to leave their sight for a single moment from now on.

[sebscore]

please write about the gzd doing twitch streams! she would have the most entertaining ones i think. she react to different grill the grid videos and funny f1 videos too.

GLASS HALF FULL KINDA GAL

pairings: f1 grid x driver!reader 

warnings: swearing. drunk reader. 

author's note: someone asked for gzd to do some streaming! I know it's not twitch, but i'm quite happy with the way this turned out! X 

masterlist

• • • • • • •

''Hello, everyone! I am here again, gracing you with my presence!'' Y/N greeted the thousands of people tuning into her Instagram live. 

She waved at the camera. ''I hope everyone had a great day or is about to have a great day, depends on where you live,'' she grinned, ''I'm here to live out my influencer life and unbox a package that has been delivered to me.'' 

Y/N grabbed the box from next to her so it was more visible on the screen. ''My good friend, Daniel Ricciardo sent me a box of his new wine collection,'' she showed the large logo to everyone, holding the box close to the camera, ''and I'm gonna try it out now.'' 

The young driver opens the package and picks out one of the three identical wine bottles. ''So this is called 'DR3 the Third Cabernet Sauvignon' and it was made in the South of Australia.'' She read the label out loud, an impressed look on her face. 

Y/N held the wine bottle up in front of her phone as if she were a Youtuber showing their viewers the make-up product they were using. ''Very, very pretty.'' 

She took the corkscrew that she had quickly grasped before starting the live and easily opened the bottle. ''This isn't my first time at the rodeo, guys.'' Y/N chuckled as she saw fans commenting about how she opened the bottle with ease. 

''Okay, let's taste this baby!'' Filling her glass with wine, she was excited to try Daniel's new wine. 

The young woman made several comedic attempts at seeming like a professional wine expert; smelling the drink and spinning her glass around. 

''Cheers, everyone!'' She tapped her glass against the screen of her phone. 

Y/N took a big sip from the wine, letting out a big ''Ah'' at the end. ''I love this! Holy Moly, Danny Ric!'' She drank from her glass again, immediately filling it up again. ''I'm a fan!'' 

She glanced at the comments, seeing a certain Australian man camping in there. ''Danny! You're here! I just drank it, it's amazing!'' 

| danielricciardo that's some fine wine

| danielricciardo happy you like it 💙

| danielricciardo say hi to me, pls

| danielricciardo HI Y/N!!

''Hi, Daniel! I miss you, haven't seen you in a while.'' Y/N pouted, waving to the camera. ''You better be there in Melbourne! It won't be the same otherwise.'' She said, trying to come across as threatening. 

| danielricciardo will be there 😎

| danielricciardo miss you too 

| landonorris you're drinking again? 

Y/N rolled her eyes at the entrance of the Brit. ''Fuck off, Lando. People who have won a Grand Prix get to drink on a livestream.'' She teased him, a smirk on her face. 

| landonorris okay, that is mean 

| landonorris drink then i guess 

Before she knew it, her once full glass was empty again. ''Let's fill you up, eh?'' She cringed as the words left her mouth. ''Ew- that sounds disgusting. Forget I said that.'' 

''Dan, good thing you put three bottles in here- I'm really enjoying myself and these babies.'' The 'babies' being the wine bottles. 

| alex_albon a Y/N drunk live? don't want to miss that 

''Albono!'' She greeted Alex, excitedly. ''Where is Lily, though? I want her here.'' 

| alex_albon my presence isn't good enough for you? 😒

''No, your presence is not good enough.'' Y/N bluntly answered, grinning from ear to ear. 

She scratched her voice. ''Am I drinking this too fast? My glass is almost done and I refilled it like 2 minutes ago.'' The driver observed her glass, frowning when she saw it was almost empty again. 

| danielricciardo yes, you are drinking too fast

| landonorris no, you're not

| landonorris drink faster 

| landonorris I can drink way faster 😌

''Norris, are you challenging me?'' She raised her eyebrow at the camera as if she was looking at Lando in real life. ''Accepted, Rumple.'' 

| alex_albon this is a disaster waiting to happen

| lilymhe you look lonely, Y/N 😏💋

''Lily! My wife is here, guys!'' Y/N yells as soon as she saw Lily's comment. ''I do look lonely,'' she smirked, ''I bet you can fix that.'' 

| alex_albon STOP IT 

| alex_albon ENOUGH 

| lilymhe wait for me ❤️❤️❤️

''Alex, you stop it with the jealousy! Never let someone's boyfriend stop you from finding your wife, guys!'' She told the viewers as if she was a teacher telling her students about an important subject. 

Y/N took another big gulp from her wine, leaving it empty. ''Should I just drink from the bottle, cause I don't plan on stopping soon.'' She showed said bottle to the viewers as if they could talk back to her. 

''Oh, fuck it.'' She put her glass away and started drinking from the bottle itself. 

| danielricciardo CALM DOWN

| georgerussell63 You worry me sometimes. 

''Go away, Russell George!'' Y/N exclaimed, waving her hand at the camera. ''You only drink tea, you're not allowed to judge me.'' 

''I'm just joking, you can stay.'' The pretend annoyed look on her face was replaced for a genuine smile. ''As long as you don't judge me, you British tall glass of water.'' The driver quickly added with a teasing grin. 

| georgerussell63 I have to go.

| georgerussell63 I have to make tea 😉

| landonorris BYE GEORGE 👋👋👋👋

''Anyway,'' Y/N gave the camera a sassy look, ''we should turn this into a Q&A! If you have questions for me- please leave them in the comments!'' She loudly clapped her hands together, scaring herself at the loud sound. 

| user1 Y/N, are you drunk yet? 

''No, I'm not drunk,'' the woman answered, ''I have a very high alcohol tolerance!'' 

| landonorris she doesn't

| danielricciardo No, you really don't 

| pierregasly you were on the floor after one pastis 😅

''Shut up and when did Pierre get here?'' Y/N shook her head at her colleagues' comments. ''Gasly, you don't know what you're talking about.'' She dismissed his reply, despite knowing he's telling the truth. 

| user2 there's something behind you

Y/N's eyes widened at the comment, slowly looking behind her. ''Dude- fuck off! Don't say stuff like that! I don't have a ghost in my house!'' She put her hand on her heart, feeling the rapid beating underneath her palm. 

''It would be cool to have one, though.'' She thought deeply. ''Like, I would be less lonely and we could keep each other company… I hope they're like, cool, like not a serial killer, you know? Or a child- UGH! Please, don't let it be a child! I like kids, but I don't want to have one and especially not a ghost one.'' 

| landonorris who is youre favourite driver? 🤭

| georgerussell63 It is 'your', Lando. 

| alex_albon your* 

| landonorris don't you have drivers to hit? 

''My favourite driver? Well, Lando, that's an excellent question! My answer is Lewis Hamilton! My favourite McLaren driver of all time.'' She smiled evilly. 

| landonorris 😑

| danielricciardo excuse me

| danielricciardo that's my wine you are drinking 😤

''Danny, you're my second favourite! And my bottle is almost done so you can see that I'm really appreciating the wine.'' Y/N defended her answer, once again showing the bottle to the camera. 

| user3 How old are you? 

''I'm 23!'' She replied, excitedly. ''That's also the amount of brain cells Lando has, funny enough.'' 

| landonorris meanie 

| landonorris I don't want to be your friend anymore 😢

''Wait- we were friends to begin with? Oh, Lando…'' Y/N dramatically shook her head, sighing in feigned disappointment as if she were a teacher upset with her student. ''You have so much to learn about the real world.'' 

''Also, now that we're on the topic of the real world,'' she started off speaking about the new thought that had somehow found its way into her head, ''Pluto.'' 

''Like, I feel so bad for them. They were just chilling, you know? And then on one tragic day, they were just kicked out - as if they were nothing. I wonder how they're doing these days. I was heartbroken when I received the news. The solar system hasn't been the same without them.'' She bumped her fist on her chest and pointed at the sky, shouting Pluto out. 

| danielricciardo pls stop drinking

| danielricciardo you're doing it again

| user4 WHY IS SHE TALKING ABOUT PLUTO BEING KICKED OUT OF THE SOLAR SYSTEM HELP 

| user5 SHES SO DRUNK OMFG 

''That second bottle is looking very sexy right now, I can't lie.'' Y/N eyed the second bottle in the wine box, pursing her lips. 

| alex_albon Y/N NO! 

| pierregasly dude, you're on live 😂😂😂

| user6 DONT DRINK MORE 

''You know when you tell a child that they shouldn't do something, but it makes them want to do it even more? Yeah, that is what's happening right now.'' The driver chuckled, grabbing the bottle out of the box and opening it with the corkscrew. 

''I already know I'm going to regret this, but frankly, I don't give a shit.'' And with that she took a large gulp of the wine. 

| user7 do you want to become world champion this year? 

Y/N gave the camera a side-eye as she read the question out loud. ''I mean… isn't that kinda the point? HA! No, I'm just doing all of this for funsies.'' 

''But Max will probably win this year again… I'm gonna try to not let that happen, but that Red Bull… it's too good.'' She sighed, getting more real thinking about the season. 

''You know… maybe the real World Championship is the friends we made along the way.'' 

| charles_leclerc oh, you are really drunk 😂

| pierregasly I told you, charlito 

| zhouguanyu24 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

| landonorris someone needs to hack her account and stop this 

''Please, don't hack my account.'' Y/N said in a monotone voice. ''Am I acting bad or something? I'm just answering questions, Lando.'' 

| nicorosberg Hello, Y/N! 👋

''BRITNEY!'' The young woman exclaimed as she noticed the former driver's comment. ''You know how this shit works? Damn, what can't Nico Rosberg do?'' 

''You're still my favourite Monaco-based Youtuber, by the way.'' She winked at the camera, pretending it is the German she's winking at. ''I can't believe I have a World Champion watching my Instagram live.'' 

''You really are a legend for 2016, Brit.'' 

| nicorosberg Thank you! 

| danielricciardo I think it's time to log off, Y/N… 

| user8 NOT HER TALKING TO NICO LIKE THAT 😭😭

| user9 Y/N PLS TALK ABOUT BROCEDES WE KNOW YOU GOT THE TEA ☕️☕️

| user10 lewis and seb watching this : 👁👄👁

''Gentlemen, a short view back to the past-''

THE LIVE HAS ENDED

taglist :: @starsanova @missskid @missthem @rosesintj @evans-dejong @thehistoryone @dreamycloudsworld @alonsogirlie @muushmeg @topguncultleader @the-great-adventures-of-me @love13tter @xcharlottemikaelsonx @kiwisa @starkwlkr @nora_moon @princesselle2111 @valluvsu @thatsadsmallchild @babyyoda89 @milkbreadforlife @fxllfaiiry @hc-dutch @its-ash-not-grey @princessbetsy123 @mehrmonga @nyenye @screechingtrashkid @ahnneyong @holybatflapexpert @itsnotgray @beautycinders @rowansshit @uhhevie @revengze @nylaslife @majx00 @multi-universe21 @jaydensluv @isasalom @gentlemonsterjennie1 @appledashhh @breathinfive @lighttsoutlewis @champomiel @ooooohmicky @koufaxx @flannelforthetoads 

@mysticfalls01 @ghostcorazon @mango-bear @totally-random-person @youkissedareaderinthedark @phoenix-luv @hamilton-mount @calcaneous @aurora-maria @idkiwantchocolatee @anonymous-platypus1

[weirdkpopgirl]

Enough | Jaemin Imagine #14

Title: Enough

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: mentions of kissing -- light makeout session, suggestive dialogue (but nothing crazy)

Word Count: ~1k

Author's Note: This imagine was an idea I had for a very long time, but I just never got to writing it. For awhile, I went back and forth as to which member to give this story to. Ultimately, I'm weak for Na Jaemin, so I chose him. I know you guys like this sort of stuff too, so I hope you enjoy it (not too much though lol). Please look forward to my future works as well. Thank you for reading ^ ^

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Jaemin made his way into your cozy living room with a steaming mug of lemon tea in hand. His eyes quickly found you seated on the floor near the coffee table. Despite the dim lighting in the room, your face was illuminated by the soft glow of the laptop in front of you. Jaemin started to smile, observing how focused you were on writing the story you’d been working on for months. However, his smile froze when he noticed you nibbling your lower lip and sighing in frustration.

Quietly, he shuffled over to sit beside you on the carpet and carefully set down the drink on the table. You picked up on his presence immediately and glanced up at him with a small smile.

“Thank you,” you said, curling your fingers around the handle of the mug before taking a long sip of the warm beverage.

He instinctively reached a hand to tenderly brush a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Everything okay?” he asked in the calm, low-toned voice he typically used during late-night conversations with you.

You hummed in response, holding back from sighing again. “Yeah. I’m just stuck on this certain part of my story.”

“What’s it supposed to be?” Jaemin tilted his head, his dark brown eyes filled with a blend of curiosity and concern. His innocent question unintentionally made you hesitate, your eyes flickering back to the screen before meeting his gaze once more. 

“Well, this is when my main characters are supposed to have their first kiss,” you explained, already feeling the heat rushing to your cheeks. “And for some reason, I’m struggling with the technicalities of it. It’s just frustrating because, I don’t usually have much of a problem with writing kiss scenes.”

Although you felt silly admitting this to your boyfriend (of all people), your frustration outweighed your embarrassment. Jaemin was the type of person who never seemed fazed by anything, but you still expected him to tease you.

Instead, Jaemin wore a thoughtful expression, arms crossed over his knees. “Why don’t you try acting out the kiss with me? It might help you get a better feel for it.”

Eyes widening in surprise at his suggestion, you began to protest. “I-I don’t know, Nana. I mean, that’s a bit…” you trailed off, shyness instinctively taking over. 

But then you paused, considering his idea for a moment. It wasn’t actually that bad and might help you with this little dilemma. After all, he was your boyfriend, so being close to each other wasn’t out of the norm. Certainly when you were dating Na Jaemin, possibly the most affectionate man you knew.

“Hm, I guess it can’t hurt to try,” you conceded, moving your hands away from your laptop. 

Taking a deep breath, you turned to face Jaemin properly and he scooted closer with a warm smile. “You said it’s their first kiss, right?” he asked, recalling the brief context you gave him earlier.

You nodded. “Yeah…um. It’s supposed to start off slow and hesitant. But it becomes more passionate since the characters have been pining for each other practically forever.”

“Okay. Show me what you’re thinking, princess,” he said. Both the pet name and his soothing voice sent a shiver down your spine.

At first, you hesitated, before tentatively reaching out to take his hand, bringing it to your cheek. “Maybe it could start with him cupping her face like this,” you spoke in almost a whisper. “And then her hands could just be on his shoulders?”

Your initial unease wore off fairly quickly, and Jaemin felt his heart skip a beat as you continued to test different hand placements with him. He couldn’t help but find how your brows furrowed in concentration and the way you quietly mumbled to yourself, incredibly endearing.

“Then when things start to get more intense, his hands should go here,” you murmured, guiding his other hand to your waist. He suppressed a laugh, noticing how you were too focused to be flustered by the intimacy of the gesture.

Yet, as minutes passed without your lips coming in contact with his, Jaemin’s frustration simmered. He couldn’t stop his eyes from being drawn to your soft, pink lips. Though your touches remained innocent, they only made the temptation increasingly difficult to resist. Growing tired of waiting, he gave into the impulse and leaned into capture your lips with his own. 

Immediately caught off guard, a soft gasp escaped you from the sudden kiss. You felt his hand on your back, pressing possessively, while his lips moved hungrily against yours. Midway into the kiss, you realize how unintentionally teasing you must have been when you were trying to work out the characters’ kiss in your mind. But before you could fully process what was happening, he pulled away. Seeing the light shade of red painted across your cheeks, Jaemin smiled in satisfaction.

“You need to know how the kiss feels so you can describe it in your story,” he reasoned, his voice teasing but earnest.

Despite being a blushy mess, you understood what he meant and smiled back. “You’re right. But I think we should do it again…you know, so I can be more prepared this time.” 

Your words made his grin widen as your arms wrapped around his neck. His lips met yours in a passionate dance, the story temporarily forgotten. Jaemin pulled you closer, his fingers delicately tracing your jawline. He could taste a hint of lemon tea on your lips, and a smile formed as you lightly tugged at his hair. It took all his self-control not to get too carried away, savoring the moment while keeping his desire in check.

 Even though Jaemin has kissed you dozens of times, each one reminded you of how insanely in love you were with one another. And in that moment, the characters and their story faded into the background, leaving only the warmth and connection between you two.

Na Jaemin was positive he could never get enough of you.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

[strwbrryeyes]

tsuki with a reader who’s touch averse yet also touch starved ? reader can’t handle touch from other people (or they feel physically ill or have a huge panic attack) but they crave touch from only certain people (aka tsuki) :3 in the beginning of their relationship, reader has to initiate contact bcus they used to hate surprises and such, but now most of the time, affection is welcomed with open arms ? (unless reader is feeling particularly anxious that day) :P

𖦹°｡⋆ Sweet touch (tsukishima x reader)

⟡ cw: fluff, referencing panic attacks, lmk if i missed anything

⟡ a/n: i tried my best to write this one but i've never been too touch averse (i was when i was younger but have gotten over it for the most part) so i hope i did your request somewhat justice!

Tsukishima Kei has never been one to be known as a softie, everyone would always say he has no regard for anybody but himself and they were somewhat right because there you were, living proof that Tsukishima’s cold demeanor could be broken. No one really quite understands what you see in him but honestly, they were just glad he was good to you. Tsukishima was always so protective of you, always so sweet no matter where you were or who was around. Tsukishima didn’t care what others said about him, he would put up with the teasing from Hinata, Kageyama, and even Yamaguchi if it meant you were happy and comfortable. While you were the most comfortable you’ve ever been in a relationship, it took a while to get to where you were with each other.

Your relationship with Tsukishima was a strange one in terms of physical affection. On one hand, you craved the warmth and reassurance that only his touch could provide but on the other hand, there were times when the idea of someone touching you sent shivers down your spine, your skin crawling with discomfort but Tsukishima never really minded it because he truly loved you and would honestly burn anyone who would may accidentally bump into you on the street. His love for you was much stronger than his want for physical attention.

When you were just getting used to Tsukishima, there were times where he would ask to hold your hand or kiss you and you would allow him to but as soon as he got close to you, you would quickly push him away as you weren’t ready for him to initiate contact since you were the one to always make the first move. Tsukishima was patient though. He never pushed you more than what you both thought fit and would actually be reluctant to touch you more than usual even if you said it was okay for him to in the moment. Tsukishima was just worried. Yet, here you are. Both of you are in love with each other and there is barely a moment where you push away. The only times where you would stray from his touch were when you were having a really bad day whether it was caused by stress or something someone said. Even then, Tsukishima would always find a way to comfort you even if it meant he couldn’t hug you or kiss you.

Now, two years and a half into the relationship, you find yourself with your head on your stoic yet loving boyfriend’s lap watching some random movie you chose as he plays with your hair, you think about how far you have come. 

The soft glow of the TV illuminates the cozy living room, casting shadows across the walls as the movie plays in the background. You shift slightly, nestling deeper into Tsukishima’s lap, the warmth and comfort of his presence. His fingers still trailing through your hair, sending pleasant tingles down your spine as you let out a contented sigh.

"Comfortable?" Tsukishima asks softly, his voice barely above a whisper as he looks down at you.

"Mmm, yeah," you murmur, your eyes fluttering closed as you sink further into his touch. "You're the best pillow I have ever laid my head on.."

"Glad I could be of service." Tsukishima chuckles as he grabs your hand to rub small circles into with his thumb before going back to watching the movie.

Silence quietly falls between the both of you and the only thing you can hear is the movie and the sound of Tsukishima’s breathing which you end up falling into rhythm with.

After a while, you feel Tsukishima shift slightly, and you crack open an eye to see him glancing down at you with a soft smile playing at his lips.

"What?" you ask with a giggle of amusement at the sight of your boyfriend trying to suppress his smile.

Finally, his smile breaks through as he is drowned with affection for you. “Nothing, I’m just enjoying this moment with you.” He says warmly causing a blush to creep onto your face.

Smiling back at him, you reach your hand up to his face and begin to caress his cheek “Me too,” you say in a sweet tone as he leans into your touch “I never would have guessed I would enjoy cuddling with someone who wasn’t my stuffed animal.” You let out a small laugh as he playfully rolls his eyes.

“Well I would hope I’m at least a better cuddler than all of them.” He retorts with a bit of fake jealousy.

“Mmm, let me think…” you say as you bring a finger to your chin to ‘think’ of who is a better cuddler for a few moments “Yeah, I’d say you’re the better cuddler. Only by a bit though.”

“Really now?” He scoffs out actually offended this time “I’ll keep that in mind then the next time you come sleepover at my place.” He says causing you to jump up from his lap so that you’re now sitting up next to him.

“Kei! I was joking don’t think about doing anything drastic!” You blurt out as you take his face into your hands.

“Calm down,” Tsukishima lets out a low chuckle has he guides you back to laying down on his lap. “Now stay there, I was comfortable and you ruined it for a bit.” He closes his eyes as his hand goes back to where he was play with your hair moments before and all you can do is sigh in annoyed love.

“I love you, jerk.” You say as you close your eyes one more time before drifting off to sleep.

“I love you too, dummy.” He says back as he adjusts the both of you were you can both fall asleep without moving too much from your original positioning.

As you both fall asleep, it is easy to see that you are both completely content with each other no matter what obstacles may come your way. As long as you had each other and as long as you supported one another, nothing would ever ruin the love you both have.

[th3crow]

Hey!! Could you make a comfort one-shot where dalton wakes up from one of his travels and the reader comforts him, although the reader is still unaware of his travels. He begins to explain his dreams and is afraid the reader wouldn't believe him but actually does end up believing him and eventually end up confessing, and they kiss boom . If that's no trouble, of course !!

PROJECTING— DALTON LAMBERT

CONTAINS: nightmares, heavy making out,

A/N: love the request! if any of you have any more don’t hesitate to send me a request:)

dalton has currently been asleep for the past hour. the two of you were supposed to be helping each other for your art final. instead, dalton—who had been staying up late every-night for some reason, had fallen asleep quick into this supposed “art night.”

however, instead of waking him up and making him do his work you let him sleep. you’ve seen how he had been showing up to class. eye-bags deep and dark, not being able to pay attention, constantly yawning. so you decided to let him sleep on your bed while you continued working on your painting.

every now and then dalton would twitch, or mumble certain things in his sleep. but was nothing out of the ordinary, it was normal thing for people to do. hell, even your own roommate would sleep talk and sleep walk, so it’s not like it was anything new to you.

every now and then you’d sneak a glance at dalton’s resting body. he looked different, not in a bad way—not in a bad way at all. but something about when he was sleeping was so, peaceful almost? i mean, despite his twitches every now and then—he looked almost calm. it was different when he was asleep and not sneaking snarky remarks in his words, or stressing over his work and family.

at least, he looked peaceful.

you quickly hummed to the music that played through your headphones. lightly sketching the outline of your soon-to-be painting, constantly changing how you want certain things to look. you turned to look at dalton’s canvas, an outline of a door stayed drawn in charcoal. something about the door sent chills down your spine, making you slightly uncomfortable.

“no—no..please..stop.” dalton whispered under his breath, his entire body shaking. you saw him moving out of the corner of your eyes. quickly, you took your headphones off—watching to see if dalton was waking up. “what—what do you want? leave me alone.” he mumbled.

you slowly made your way towards dalton, hovering above him—unsure if you should wake him up or not. “stop…stop…STOP!” dalton shouted, jolting awake from his sleep—causing you to jump.

dalton was breathing heavily, cold sweat stained his skin as he shook—his hands gripping onto the bed sheets. slowly, you made your way closer towards him, looking at him closely. “dalton—are you okay?” you questioned, your hand hovering over his back.

dalton stayed quiet, whispering words so quiet you couldn’t understand what he was saying. his entire body continued shaking as he stared blankly at the blankets in front of him. “dalton, dude, you’re scaring me. are you okay?” you asked, putting your hand firmly on his back.

dalton looked up, his eyes meeting yours as he let out a sigh of relief. his hand coming up to touch the sides of your face. “it’s actually you, right?” he mumbled softly. he noticed the confused expression on your face and moved his hand quickly. “sorry—bad dream.” he said, getting up from the bed.

you stayed sitting down, watching as he wandered around the room—looking at the canvas of a door. “dalton, are you sure you’re okay?”

dalton stopped—turning to look at you. “yeah. like i said, bad dream. there’s no need to worry about it, okay?” he smiled softly, picking up his backpack and his canvas. “i think…i think i’m going to go, okay?” he mumbled softly.

you got up quickly, grabbing his wrist, taking the canvas out of his grasp. “hey, dalton talk to me.” you said, “i’m not going to make fun of you, we all have bad dreams. maybe you just need to talk to somebody, yeah?” you reassured.

dalton shook his head. “no…no, you’re going to think i’m crazy i cant.” he said, closing his eyes softly.

you grabbed onto both of his hands, shaking your head. “dalton..i care about you, okay? you can talk to me you’re my best-friend.” you said.

dalton sighed, moving out of your grasp and towards the bed. “it’s just…” he said, attempting to find the right words. “i don’t know my dreams they’re, they’re more than just dreams and it scares me.” he said, letting out a loud sigh.

“what do you mean?”

“like—i can see myself sleeping and stuff. but it’s not just that, when i’m there i can see everything. i saw you, drawing.” he stopped for a moment. “but that’s not everything, i can see other things too like..like dead people? i don’t know.” he mumbled, shaking his head.

you stopped for a moment, looking at him in silence.

“you think i’m crazy, right?” he said.

you shook your head. “no—not at all dalton. i think you’re talking about astral projection.” you said, moving towards him, placing a firm hand on his back as you rubbed it gently. “but you’re here now, you’re not there.” you whispered softly in his ear. “maybe tomorrow we can do some research, yeah?”

“mhm” dalton mumbled, letting himself relax in your grasp.

the two of you stayed silent. dalton watched you as you rubbed your hand against his back, slightly closing his eyes and relaxing against your touch. you watched him, a slight smile forming on your eyes as you leaned your head against his shoulder.

“i’m always here for you, dalton.” you whispered.

“as my best-friend?” dalton questioned.

you moved your head, your face inches away from each other. “yeah…unless you want it to be something more?”

dalton’s eyes went from your eyes to your lips. “do you want it to be something more?”

you nodded in reply.

dalton hesitated a little bit, unknown to starting a kiss. he placed his lips on yours, his hands grasping the sides of your face as you moved onto his lap. the kiss deepening as you wrapped your hands around his neck before breaking the kiss.

[auras-moonstone]

could you write something about jack and shy!reader where they’re working on a romcom together and she’s very closed off with him bc she likes him and he’s always going to her trailer to hang out despite her being very quiet

okay so i may have reached a new level of cheesiness with this one shot but i kinda love it??? hope you do too🫶🏻💓

the tower at midnight — jack champion

word count: 2,394

pairing: jack champion x shy!fem!reader

summary: jack and y/n are working on a rom-com together. because of her shyness and crush on him, y/n is really closed off and jack is determined to change that.

WHEN Y/N AUDITIONED FOR THE ROLE OF ANNA IN THE NETFLIX ADAPTATION OF ANNA AND THE FRENCH KISS, she would’ve never ever—not even in her wildest dreams—imagined that the boy who played Étienne St. Clair (the love interest) would be Jack Champion, her celebrity crush.

Jack knew he had soft spot for her from the moment they met, at the cast presentation/meeting. Y/N had been standing awkwardly by the door because, just like him, she had arrived earlier than the rest.

“Hi, you must be Y/N” he gave her a wide smile, showing his perfect teeth and cute dimples. Y/N couldn’t believe he was even more perfect in person.

“Hi… yes” she shifted awkwardly. Her nostrils caught the scent of his strong and sweet cologne, and she instantly became addicted.

“I’m Jack! Nice to meet you! I’m really excited to be working with you” Jack’s voice was the complete opposite of hers—loud, excited, confident, steady.

“Thanks, me too” she sent him a soft smile, which was enough to send Jack’s heart beats on a marathon.

“It’s your first acting role, right?” he asked, interested in knowing more about the girl. Y/N nodded shyly. “Don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll do amazing! I know it can seem very intimidating, but you’ll be okay”.

“Thank you” Y/N smiled gratefully. She was completely entranced by him, by his kindness and by his warmth.

“What are you listening to?” he asked, eyeing the earphone that hung from my neck.

“Um, the Mamma Mia soundtrack” she replied, cheeks red as she offered him one of the earphones. He beamed at her, and accepted it. They both sat together in comfortable silence, humming to the ABBA songs as they waited for the rest of the cast.

JACK THOUGHT THAT BY THE PASSING DAYS, Y/N WOULD WARM UP TO HIM AT LEAST A LITTLE. But he had been totally wrong, she even became more reserved than the day they met.

He only heard her voice when they were doing a scene, and it was weird to see the contrast between them when they were playing Anna and Étienne—two friends who were clearly into each other—and the real Y/N and Jack—two people who didn’t interact at all behind cameras. It was like living two lives, and Jack liked what he felt with Y/N when they were doing a scene together. Her eyes held a certain spark when she looked at him, and she blushed so prettily and her soft voice was just so enthralling… she was a great actress and Jack was beginning to think he was really not acting the attraction towards her at all.

Little did he know, Y/N wasn’t acting either. She liked him, a lot, and wished she wasn’t so shy because she really wanted to spend more time with Jack when the cameras weren’t near them. But Y/N knew she would make a fool of herself, and would be extremely obvious about her feelings, and weirding Jack out by her little crush was the last thing Y/N wanted. So, she stayed in her own little bubble while she enjoyed his company during the interactions between Anna and Étienne.

But Jack was not going to let it stay like that. And, one day, after they finished a scene, he followed Y/N to her trailer.

“Hey, do you mind if I stay with you?” Jack asked as she opened the door.

Y/N looked surprised “No… it’s okay” she said in a low tone. Jack smiled and held the door open for her. “Thanks” she muttered, her stomach squirming. He really was perfect.

There wasn’t a conversation at all. And one might think that would’ve been awkward as hell, but it wasn’t. Y/N felt comfortable, and Jack enjoyed her company even when they didn’t talk at all. So they did the same the next day, and the following one, and soon it became their little religion.

Y/N wondered why he kept going—not that she minded, of course. But he could spend his free time with other cast members who actually talked to him, and instead Jack sat in complete silence with her for minutes, not even attempting to make a conversation. She couldn’t help but ask.

“Why do you do this?” her question surprised him, and he paused the game he was playing on his phone.

“What?” Jack asked confused.

“You know, sit with me everyday, when I’m the most boring person to hang out” her voice was little.

Because I like you, he was tempted to say. But he didn’t want her to run away “You’re not boring. Sometimes conversations are overrated, you know? And it feels nice to hang out with you, you make me feel at peace”.

Y/N blushed. No one had ever said that to her ‘make me feel at peace’. Most people left her alone when they got the memo that she didn’t want to talk. Jack didn’t. “I… feel the same about you. I’m comfortable with you, and it’s… funny to watch you furrow your eyes when you are struggling at your game” she admitted, letting out a small laugh.

Jack’s smile appeared almost as a reflect. She had no idea how much he liked her “And I think it’s funny how you squirm whenever a kissing scene comes up in your book”.

Y/N’s body grew hot. “I just like when the characters finally kiss. I get invested a lot”

“Have you read Anna and the french kiss before the adaptation was announced?” Jack asked.

The girl smiled, she loved talking about rom-coms. “Of course. It’s one of my favorite romances. In fact, it enters my top five”.

“Oh, let’s see. Tell me your top” he asked, moving to sit next to her.

“At number five, Kisses and croissants—which like Anna, is set on Paris—, then The Happy Place—it’s really heart wrenching but it’s so good—, The do-over—I love it, it’s very original—, Anna and the french kiss—I absolutely love the whole Paris exploration and the romance and friendship between Anna and St. Clair is impeccable… and then, my absolute favorite is-“

“Wait! Drumrolls” he interrupted her, before making the sound.

Y/N laughed “Better than the movies, of course. Best romance I’ve ever read”.

“Oh, I know that one! I’ve been fan casted as the main character” Jack said.

As if I didn’t know, she said internally. He was the perfect Wes Bennet, and now that she actually knew him, she couldn’t deny it. “I know” she confessed.

“Really? What do you think?”

“The fans clearly make a good point” she said. How was he getting her to talk so much? She never felt like that towards someone. When she was around Jack, she wanted to make conversation.

Jack saw how passionate Y/N was about books, so he hold onto that topic. He loved hearing her voice, and her enthusiasm. “Tell me about this character. I’ve never read the book”.

And so Y/N talked about Wes, about how similar he was to Jack. And said boy was on cloud nine, not only was Y/N talking to him, but he was complimenting him. Well, she complimented Wes, but she mentioned lots of times how he and Jack were literally the same person—so the compliments were towards him too, right? And he loved it.

THEIR DYNAMIC COMPLETELY CHANGED EVER SINCE THAT DAY ON THE TRAILER. Jack noticed Y/N had grown more comfortable and confident around him, though she did have moments of shyness—especially when he threw praises at her. That’s another thing that changed: Jack wouldn’t pass the opportunity to shower her with compliments. The first one had slipped out of his mouth, she just looked so gorgeous on that skirt and top, that he couldn’t shut up. At first, he cursed at himself thinking it was going to make her uncomfortable, but then she blushed and gave him a little smile and Jack knew he had to tell her at least one nice thing every day. He realized that flattering her was his favorite activity, and he was very addicted to her reactions.

Maybe it was all in his imagination, but he had the feeling that Y/N liked him back. The blushing, the glances, her little stiffness whenever he got too close—it could be just her shyness, he knew it, but the hopeful part of him told him it was more than that.

“Y/N/N?” he interrupted her reading. That was a new activity they had—Jack asked Y/N if she could read him ‘Better than the movies’, and she couldn’t say no when he pouted. So she read to him during their breaks at the trailer.

“Yes?” she looked down at her lap, where Jack’s head was resting.

“Are you doing something tonight?” he asked.

Y/N frowned “No, why?”

“I just realize, we are in Paris and we didn’t get to explore much. Just the places we have filmed at, and it sucks because it is such a beautiful city”

“So…?”

“Right. Well, I was wondering if you wanted to explore with me tonight. We leave the set earlier today, so it’s a great opportunity. We can have dinner, and then visit some touristic places” he tried to speak confidently, but he was practically screaming on the inside.

“Yes, that sounds really nice, actually” she nodded, not thinking much of it. Jack cursed at her calmness, guess she didn’t understand he was actually asking her on a date.

“Great. It’s a date” Jack said, paying attention to her reaction. Her jaw fell open, and the grip on the book loosened letting it fall to her lap—or Jack’s face to be exact. “Ouch!”.

“Shit. Shit. I’m so sorry, Jack” Y/N apologised, body turning warm with embarrassment.

“You could’ve just said no, you know? Didn’t have to hit me with your book” he joked.

“No, no. I want to… I want it to be a date” she said softly. “Did I hurt you?” she touched his nose carefully.

“Not anymore. The pain is now long forgotten” Jack said looking her in the eyes. She turned her head away, they were too close and he was making her extremely nervous “I love it when you blush, did you know that? I… I like you”

“I got the hint ever since you randomly started to tell me compliments every day” she confessed.

“So you knew that I liked you?” Jack asked surprised. She nodded shyly “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Y/N shrugged “I’m not good at making the first move”

“Well, I am” he smiled smugly, leaning closer to her. He was going to kiss her. She had even closed her eyes, waiting for the feeling of his lips. “No”

Y/N opened her eyes in confusion “What?”

“You like romance, don’t you?” Jack asked, she affirmed with her head “We are in one of the most romantic cities in the world and you’re a fan of romantic comedies. Wouldn’t it be a shame if we have our first kiss in a trailer when there are so many beautiful places where we could have it?” he left Y/N completely speechless. “I’ll pick you up at 8, gorgeous”.

Y/N swooned. This guy was taken out of a romantic novel, there’s no other explanation.

WALKING AROUND THE CITY OF PARIS WITH JACK FELT LIKE A FAIRYTALE. They bought a disposable camera and took pictures of everything—when they went to The Louvre, to Le arc de Triomphe, the Luxembourg Gardens. And now, they were at their final stop before heading back to the hotel. Of course, they had to end their little exploration with Paris’ most iconic monument—the Eiffel Tower.

“Holy shit” Y/N said in complete awe. It was completely dark—as it was midnight already—so the tower shone brightly. The warm flashing lights of the monument reflected on Y/N’s starry eyes and Jack was completely taken by the view—her, of course. “This is completely mesmerising, Jack”.

“I know” eyes never leaving her eyes.

“Excuse moi” the voice of an old woman interrupted them. Y/N turned around and smiled warmly at her. She asked something in french that Jack couldn’t understand, but Y/N nodded and took the phone the woman held in her hands.

Y/N took a picture of the lady in front of the tower, and smiled at her as she handed the phone back. The unknown female looked at Jack, who was watching them with a grin, and said something to Y/N that made her blush and laugh.

“What did she say?” Jack asked curiously when Y/N came back to his side.

“She said that you were very handsome and that we make a great couple” Y/N admitted, smiling lightly but not quite looking at him from embarrassment.

“That was a wise woman, then” Jack smirked. “I didn’t know you spoke french”

“I studied it at school, so I can speak it quite well” she told him.

“Can you say something to me in french?” he was dying to hear her voice in that accent.

Y/N turned around to face him and, with an air of confidence, she said “Tu es le plus beau garçon que J'ai jamais vu. Je t'aime beaucoup et je suis amoureuse de ton sourire et de tes beaux yeux”.

With his jaw almost reaching the floor, his eyes roamed from her eyes down to her mouth, completely bewitched by the sound of her voice and the movement of her lips. He didn’t recognise one word that she had said, yet his heart felt like jumping out of his chest.

“Wha-what does that mean?” he whispered breathlessly.

“I said… You’re the most beautiful boy I’ve ever seen. I like you very much and I’m in love with your smile and your beautiful eyes”

“And-and how do you say ‘Can I kiss you?’ in french?” he asked, fingertips caressing her full lips.

“Je peux t'embrasser?” she answered.

Jack smiled “Yes, of course you can”

Y/N laughed “Dork” she whispered before pressing her lips against his.

Y/N didn’t quite know how Jack manages to make her feel absolutely fearless. But she was in love with the feeling, she was so in love with him that she might stop breathing. She was in love with his cheeky smile, his sweet disposition, his understanding self, his silly jokes, his touch and his loving gaze, and now, one hundred percent, with his kisses.

“I’m in love with you too” Jack said against her lips.

[wildflowerluver]

all i need to hear

aaron hotchner x fem!reader

aaron’s comfort is all you need

cw: one bed + nightmare trope, friends to lovers-ish, nightmare, case details, reader gets injured

wc: 3.8k

༺♡༻

everyone’s allowed to have a tough case. 

j.j. experiences it most with children and rossi with people he’s dealt with in his earlier times at the bau, but you, nothing really seems to stop you. it’s remarkable, really. 

this case seems to be the exception.

the team is sent somewhere in colorado. it’s a small town, nestled in the forest though the mountains prove to be a bigger challenge in locating evidence that the p.d. had indicated.

your anxiety flares when garcia presents the victim list while you’re on the plane. you had left in such a rush that there was no prior debriefing in quantico.

they look like you. 

same hair color, eye color, all of it. 

subconsciously, you know these details aren’t exclusive to you but the uneasiness can’t be shaken. even emily raises an eyebrow in your direction. 

“-we need to get started right away when we land,” hotch’s voice breaks you out from where you’ve zoned out after staring at the pictures. “the unsub is progressing rapidly. we have no time to waste.” 

it’s a miracle you know where to go when you arrive. you missed hotch handing out assignments and chose to follow j.j. and hotch closely instead. you’re still on edge. no one else seems to pick up on your mood and for that you’re grateful. 

the weather doesn’t help either; rain and thunderstorms all week. great for catching an unsub.

____

you’re exhausted, everyone is.

two straight days of work with little time to rest was seriously impacting the cognitive abilities of the team. it happened on certain cases, very rarely, but still occurred.

hotch had stopped the team on the second night, ordering everyone to go back to the hotel to get some rest. hotel rooms were limited and rossi won the drawing for the only single room. everyone else seems to find their pair naturally.

that leaves you paired with hotch who doesn’t say much as you head towards the elevator. he picks up on your body language of not wanting to speak. 

you’re still anxious, on edge. it’s not the sleeping arrangements or the sleep deprivation, it’s the case. 

everything around you is moving too slow or too fast. you can’t even control it. one minute you’re stepping off the elevator and heading towards your room with hotch and the next you're stopping in your tracks at the sight of the room.

one bed.

it’s large enough to accommodate the both of you but your heart flutters at the realization you would be sharing a bed. you don’t say anything and neither does he. two adults can share a bed. it’s not a big deal.

your mind is already drifting back to the past two days.

hotch maneuvers around your frozen form to put your bags in the right spots before he turns to you.

“y/n?” 

you don’t hear him.

“y/n” he tries again, this time placing a hand on your shoulder.

you flinch, though you try to play it off with a roll of the shoulders.

“do you want to take first shower?”

you nod, muttering a quiet ‘thank you’ as you gather pajamas and head in. you try not to think of the case as you shower, though your mind can only drift to one place; aaron. you’re sharing a bed. it’s an odd pairing, given you usually room with emily or even spencer and especially with how you feel about hotch; something only emily knows about.  

you slip into bed without another word to the man in the room. exhaustion creeps in your bones and you know you can chalk your quietness to that.

staying awake to ensure that the sleeping arrangements are okay seems like the best idea. you shut your eyes, promising to yourself that you were just resting until he was finished. you loll off to sleep to the sound of hotch’s shower.

aaron exits the bathroom to see you asleep. you’re curled up on your side of the bed, arms wrapped in a protective manner around yourself.

he knows you're not feeling well, not on a work level but a personal one too.

aaron promises to himself that he’s going to look out for you.

__

you shoot up, clawing at the sheets to push them off of your now sweaty body.

it couldn’t have been later than two in the morning and the terror from the nightmare jerks you out of the very little sleep you’d gotten.

breaths turn ragged as you collapse out of bed and onto the floor. you press your forehead to the carpet, hands clutching at your heart that feels like it could burst out of your chest at any second.

it wasn’t a horror nightmare, per say, but rather a psychological one; where everything just feels….off. adding onto the emotions of the case, everything was becoming too much.

the sobbing comes next.

between the gasps for air and your bawling, it was only a matter of time before aaron woke up. at first, he thought you were simply getting up to use the bathroom. but, the thud on the floor proved him otherwise.

“y/n?”

he must’ve said your name multiple times. it doesn’t seem to register until he’s kneeling down in front of you.

“y/n?” aaron tries again. “can i touch you?”

you don’t respond verbally. squeezing your hands around your head feels like a better option, safer.

his hands find yours, gently removing them from the grip on your hair. he doesn’t let go, doesn’t let up his pressure in the slightest. 

aaron only lets his right hand go from where they hold yours. he keeps his left hand resting on your wrist. his next task is to get your head off of the floor. he moves to cradle your cheek to lift your head up, but your voice stops him.

“aaron-” you stutter. “aaron i can’t breathe.”

“hey hey, sweetheart look at me,” you’re in a state of such panic that the pet name doesn’t even sink in. “match my breathing, okay? deep breath in, deep breath out.”

his instructions make you feel like a child; like you’re at the doctor and they just placed a stethoscope on your back.

but you suppose that’s his job, that’s your job.

you don’t know what’s happening to you.

you never have night terrors, especially not ones on cases.

it takes a few minutes for your breathing to steady. you keep your eyes on aaron, blinking back the tears that are still welling up. you can finally breathe easy and aaron considers that the first step in helping you.

you’ve moved from your prior position of being curled on the floor to settling against the wall, half propped against the ac unit and the other half against aaron’s chest.

it feels odd, wrong, like you aren’t supposed to be this intimate with your friend boss. feelings aside, the embarrassment sets in quickly.

aaron knows some things off when you press your forehead into your knees.

“i’m sorry.” your voice is weak, small.

aaron raises an eyebrow. “what for?”

“i woke you up, i’m sorry. i swear this doesn’t normally happen. i don’t know what caused it. i’m really really sorry for disturbing you,” you ramble off an apology.

“y/n, it’s alright,” he reassures. “i promise.”

you keep your forehead down. for once, aaron feels like he is unable to profile you. the rule the team point in place aside, he can’t tell if you’re flushed with embarrassment or still feeling uneasy from your dream. 

“what makes you feel better when this happens?”

his question is with good intentions but your face turns even more red.

“pressure,” you answer honestly. “i usually sleep with a weighted blanket but it gets too heavy to bring so i left it.”

aaron goes quiet and you think you’ve gone too far. you’re already sharing a bed, you’ve already had a panic attack in front of him, and he’s already seen you cry.

“let’s get to bed.”

he extends both hands to help you to your feet.

when you’re both standing, he doesn’t let go of your palms, but rather guides you over to your side of the hotel bed.

aaron’s hand stays on the small of your back and lifts up the covers to help you in. if you weren’t still terrified, you would have blushed. you lie down and peer up towards the older man.

“pressure, right?” you can hear the underlying tone of permission in his voice.

you hum.

his movements are slow to provide you plenty of time to stop him. but, you don’t. he finally settles behind you, pulling your body to his so there’s barely any room.

instinctively, your arms wrap around his that rest on your stomach.

it shocks you at what aaron was doing. you were cuddling. never in your life had you thought you’d be where you were right now. you want to convince yourself so badly of how unprofessional the situation is, but you just can’t. between the terror you were feeling and your unanswered feelings, cuddling with aaron felt like a dream.

“hotch?” 

he hums into the back of your neck, signaling to you that he’s still awake.

“thank you,” you whisper.

he squeezes you and pulls your body a little closer to his.

“i’ll be right here when you wake up.”

a promise. and for once, you think it’ll stay true.

true to his word, you wake up still in hotch’s arms. you’ve shifted slightly in the night, however; hotch’s arm had snaked under your head to hold you in a makeshift hug. you feel selfish in wanting his alarm to never go off so you can stay like this.

you’re dreading the stereotypical awkward conversation that’s going to come out of all this but in the moment, you don’t care. you’re still embarrassed from your nightmare and hotch filling the void of your weighted blanket was making you feel better.

the bliss ends when aaron’s alarm blares. you quickly shut your eyes, wanting to savor it as long as possible. you feel him shift from behind you, gently pulling his arm away and propping himself up on his elbow.

“y/n, y/n,” hotch shakes you awake. 

you groan, feigning sleep as you sit up and rub your eyes.

“how’d you sleep?”

“better with you there,” you admit.

your words slip out before you can even think. it felt natural to say, like it was a given. hotch’s face stills before slipping into a soft smile. “good, i’m glad.”

silence falls over the room. you’re still close, you with your legs crossed and him laying on his side. he’s below you and you think about how easy it would be to lean down and press your lips together. you wonder if he's thinking the same and the second you see his eyes flicker down to your mouth, you legitimately consider going for it.

but, there’s a knock on the door. turns out you might’ve stayed in bed longer than you realized.

“come on! we gotta get going!”

you sigh.

back to work.

_____

garcia gives the name and address of a potential suspect.

hotch sends you and morgan to the house with a ‘call if you find anything.’

you step away to gather yourself, ensuring that your gun is in your belt and you have your phone on you; simple procedure. you don’t miss how hotch and morgan talk quietly among themselves, the unit chief seeming to be giving instructions. you know they’re talking about you.

morgan doesn’t mention it when he walks over to you. “ready to go?” he doesn’t use a nickname. strange. 

you nod, looking back over at your shoulder to hotch who still seems to still have his eyes trained on you. “yeah i am.” hotch takes one step in your direction.

“be careful.” 

his words are directed at you.

anxiety stabs at your stomach. 

___

hands are pressing to hold your cheeks.

your ears are ringing. everything is too quiet. the blurred figure in front of you is moving their lips, if they’re talking, you can’t hear them. 

it takes a couple long, slow blinks for your surroundings to even make sense. 

you were in the suspects home. you and morgan had gone to do an interview. one he opened the door, he saw you and grinned. you can’t seem to forget the way he made you feel just hours ago. like you were next. he had decided to run not too long after that. you chased him. anything after that was beyond you. 

“y/l/n, are you okay? what happened?” 

you know that voice.

hotch. 

you peer at his now focused face and tilt your head. it takes a moment for you to figure out how to speak. your tongue feels fifty pounds in your mouth. “why wouldn’t i be?”

“you’re bleeding.”

the warm sensation on your forehead seems to set in. oh. something happened.

“something happened,” you voiced.

“something happened,” hotch repeated 

you aren’t at your best. it’s clear to everyone, not just him.

“let’s get you to an ambulance.” hotch helps you to your feet, securing an arm around your waist to help you walk. you’d been knocked out. it was a miracle you were walking and talking as quick as you were.

the ambulance is fuzzy. the lights are too bright. it doesn’t help that it’s late morning and the sun is shining. hotch notices you squint your eyes and uses his palm as a visor with enough room for the emt’s to work.

“no concussion. no hospital. we’ll patch her up with some zipstiches and she’ll just need to take it easy.” you really hope hotch, or anyone, is listening to the emt’s diagnosis and instructions because you can’t.

you’re cleaned and cleared in no time. the pouding doesn’t seem to cease. 

“where’s the team?”

hotch takes a seat at the back of the ambulance next to you.

your knees bump together and thighs press against each other. you’re close.

“they’re at the precinct. we got the guy. he knocked you out. morgan went after him.” he’s talking in simple sentences that are easy to understand.

“oh.”

you couldn’t even help with the takedown.

“you’re cleared to fly,” hotch starts. “we’re heading home tonight.’

thank god.

the drive back to the precinct is spent in silence. you can feel hotch’s gaze on you but you stare out the window. you don’t feel like talking to him, about anything. the team greets you with soft smiles or a squeeze of the shoulder. morgan collects you in his arms, muttering an apology about leaving you behind. you nod into his shoulder. no big deal.

the plane ride back to d.c. and drive to quantico goes by before you know it but you still don’t feel well.

the guy was caught. why were you so on edge still?

the bullpen is suffocating.

it’s a silent agreement that everyone would stay later to finish their reports. some adrenaline had yet to wear off and finishing the initial case report would greatly lessen the workload for tomorrow. 

you stare down at the top of the paper.

just write your statement, it’s not that hard.

everyone around you seems to delve into their work. the pen scratching sends you into another spiral about the case. 

your head hurts.

hotch exits his office, titling his head when he notices you still at your desk.

“y/n? what are you still doing here?” he questions.

it takes you a moment to process the words before blinking twice and looking at him. “was doing my report,” you mumble. the bullpen is eerily quiet.

had everyone already left? did you not even notice?

two hours had passed. for you, it felt like twenty seconds.

you look back towards your report.

you hadn’t even been able to write your name.

hotch walks down the steps and heads to your desk, abandoning his bag on the floor. 

“i think you and i are both aware something happened this case,” his voice has dropped the authoritarian tone. it’s lighter, the one he uses when talking to someone emotional on cases. you supposed that that’s you right now. “it’s okay to have off cases, y/n. we all have them.”

that’s not it.

you want to explain so bad.

you trust him, with your life if it ever came down to it.

“hotch i-” you’re shaking, tongue going heavy in your mouth. it’s easier to drop your head and hide from his burning gaze.

you press your palms to your pants, desperately trying to wipe off the moisture that’s cumulated. hotch appears in your eyeline as he kneels down in front of you. “what’s going on?”

tears form at your waterline.

“hotch i’m scared.”

your voice is hushed.

“i can’t shake the feeling that something bad is going to happen. cases have made me anxious before but never scared.”

he squeezes your hand. “i’m right here, y/n. we caught the unsub. nothing is going to happen, i promise.”

you shake your head, eyes snapping around to check your surroundings. “that’s it. i know we caught the unsub and i’m still so paranoid. we’re alone in this bullpen and i still feel-”

you feel sick.

admitting your emotions is hard, especially in the bau. you profile human behavior for a living, you would think you would be able to manage your own.

“come home with me tonight,” hotch voices. “you’re in no state to be alone.”

he doesn’t minimize what you’re feeling, nor does he try and force you to dive further into your terror past the initial confession. 

you nod, releasing your hands to brush your hair out of your eyes. “right,” you start, “i’m not.” helpless, that’s all you can feel.

“you know it’s not like that.”

you become acutely aware of your interlocked hands. 

hotch sighs. “jack is away for the weekend with jessica so my apartment is empty. i would feel a lot better if you were there at least for tonight.”

you would too. 

“okay.”

hotch helps you to your feet, grabbing both yours and his bags and shoving the file into it. it can wait until tomorrow. he guides you out of their building and to his car.

___

you’ve been in hotch’s apartment before. only a few times, though, when you’ve watched jack.

it’s how you remember it. it feels like a home. jack’s drawings and tests cover the fridge and artwork sits in frames on the walls. 

“do you want to watch something on tv? or we can go to bed,” hotch asks after only a moment and you weigh your options. as much as you want to stay up, the adrenaline from the case has already started to wear off.

“bed,” you answer quietly. you’re unsure of where you’re going to be sleeping. it feels awkward to ask. 

you pick at the cuticles to distract yourself from the silence.

“if you’re more comfortable, i’ll make up the couch,” he offers.

no. no. no.

“absolutely not,” you laugh. you realize how your tone sounds and take a stride over to him, leaning against the wall. “i slept really well when we shared the hotel room.” it took courage to admit that.

“so you’ll sleep in mine? with me?” he sounds hopeful.

you don’t want him to think you’re throwing yourself at him.

“hotch-.”

“aaron,” he corrects you.

right. you aren’t at work. still, referring to your boss by his first name when you’re so used to his last feels odd. but then again, so did cuddling.

“aaron,” you spoke. the last time you had used his first name was when you had your nightmare. “are you sure?”

“i am.” 

you smile. “then we can share.”

aaron guides you to his bedroom, pointing out where the ensuite is and handing you an extra toothbrush. you get changed in the bathroom and splash some water on your face. you were sharing a bed for the second time - this time by choice.

he’s not in the room when you exit. you assume he’s somewhere else in the apartment, locking things up. you slide under the covers, choosing the same side you did back in the hotel room.

your phone buzzes on aaron’s beside and you pick it up to read the message.

take the day off tomorrow and get some rest. you all deserve it.

you smile. usually aaron gives you a late start after cases. a day off is a luxury.

you can hear his footsteps padding down the hallway and you rush to put your phone down. aaron enters the bedroom, smiling in your direction at the site of you curled in his bed and places a glass of water he’s holding down.

“how are you feeling?”

you peer up at him.

he’s standing at the edge of the bed, arms crossed and eyes boaring into you.

“better,” you admit. it’s not a lie, you feel safer at his - with him. 

“and your head?”

your fingers drift up to where the bandage lays. it feels like days ago that you got hurt when it was merely a few hours prior. “it hurts a little but i’ll live.”

“well hopefully the medicine kicks in soon,” he adds. “i also think getting some rest would help.”

“i could get some rest if someone would get in bed.”

he raises his hands. mock defeat. 

aaron then moves to lay down in bed, leaning over to turn the light off.

you can still make out his face from the moonlight that pours in through the window. he’s looking at you, waiting for you to say something.

“i forgot my weighted blanket.” there’s a hint of amusement in your voice.

aaron beams.

“come here,” he spoke.

you waste no time in all but launching your body at his. he’s on his back and you curl into his side, head on his chest and legs intertwined with his.

“is this okay?” you ask earnestly.

“more than okay,” aaron answers. 

you hide your smile in his neck, toying with the hem of his t-shirt. “going shy on me?” his tone is teasing. busted. you pull your head back slightly and peer up at him.

“i’m really proud of you, you know,” hotch starts. you raise an eyebrow. “for this case i mean. i don’t know, you seem like a lot doesn’t affect you and when it did, you still prevailed.”

the deep blush that spreads across your cheeks is thankfully hidden by the darkness.

“really couldn’t have done it without you,” you try and emphasize the last part. it’s true, you really wouldn’t have been able to stay together if he wasn’t there.

aaron stiffens and for a minute you think you misunderstood his prior words.

“i’m here for you, always.”

“promise?” 

he leans down to press your foreheads together.

“i promise.”

[lvrslvt3]

ANOTHER BLANKET | h. lewis

main masterlist | youtube masterlist

pairings : harrylewis x reader

summary : reader is being harassed by a creepy man harry is a little too late to save her. [ words ]

warnings : creepy man, verbal sexual harassment, very mild violence, alcohol use, drugs mentioned. established relationship

notes : this is my first ever fic so i’m very sorry if it’s bad and for any mistakes, if you have any suggestions or requests feel free to say.

halfway through the third day of the festival you had left most of your group to go and see another band with a few of the girls you had met — not interested in the artist the boys were obsessed with.

obviously, despite harry trusting you with his life, the boys had instructed you to meet them by a certain group of port-a-loos so they could take you back to the campsite safely, the girls you were with had kept you company until it turned quiet and they had to leave to find their own tent, meaning you were now stood alone.

your outfit was way too revealing for the current weather since you hadn’t fully realised how cold it would be until now, when all the adrenaline and excitement was rushed out of you and all you wanted was to go to sleep. you were almost leaning against the makeshift toilet as you waited.

sighing out, you glanced down at your phone but harry hadn’t sent any more texts except the last one only ten minutes ago reading ‘on my way’. crossing your arms you tried to find any body heat as you looked for your boyfriend and his group of friends.

“you cold?” the voice almost made you jump but your body had slowed down with todays activities. at first glance you could tell that the man speaking to you was on something with his fuzzy looking eyes and slurred speech. you weren’t sure what he was on but you didn’t want to be around it.

you didn’t answer his question directly, instead just shaking your head with a polite smile. “i’m fine, thanks.” you expected him to go away but instead he continued to stare you down, causing you to pull up your low waisted trousers a little more to hide yourself from the creepy man.

“just waiting on my boyfriend and his friends to come and get me…” you felt extremely uncomfortable in his presence, so you used the trick you usually did. men — especially ones that are drunk or on drugs — didn’t fully respect you until they knew you had a man.

of course he was different, a lazy smirk finding its way onto his dirty looking face. “so?” he shrugged while taking a step closer to you, now only a little bit away from where you stood backed up against the loo’s.

you glanced down at your phone and typed out a text quickly before sending it, simply saying the words ‘hurry, creepy man’ because you knew it would have harry running across the field until he found you. “are you okay?” you questioned the man in hopes he would back away.

you were trying to keep him distracted so he wouldn’t be solely focused on getting close to you. “i am now i’m with you, baby.” his bad attempt at being smooth made you physically cringe, but you stood up straight instead of showing weakness.

“my boyfriend is on his way right now, he’ll be here any second.” you stated in hopes on scaring him off. instead, he took another step until he was directly infront of you. he smelled disgusting but he didn’t seem to notice or mind.

“i don’t see any boyfriend, girl—“

he reached out his hand to touch you just as you kicked him straight in the balls as hard as you were able to. he let out an very audible grunt before falling to the ground quickly after.. “you little bitch!” he swore out before hissing in pain again.

you took a few steps away from the man on the ground, ignoring his rambles when you heard the noise of people trecking over the grass using a very fast pace. the sudden noise only installed more fear in you — right up until you realised who it was.

harry, ethan and tobi were running toward you full speed, all of them looking relieved when they saw that you were fine. “there’s my little guardian angels.” a smile graced your face at the sight of them.

harry immediately began to check you were okay before wrapping an arm around your shoulders and placing a kiss firmly on to the top of your head. “jesus christ, you scared the shit out of me.” finally, you felt safe.

“no worries, i handled him.” you referenced to the man still on the ground. “what the fuck did you do to him, y/n?” ethan chuckled slightly at the agony the man on the floor was currently experiencing.

“i only kneed him in the balls, he’s overreacting.” you brushed the creepy man off while leaning further into harry’s chest, beginning to walk away from the scene, feeling glad the boys hadn’t spoken to the drugged out man.

“you’re not going off on your own again—“ harry squeezed your shoulder to get his point across, “i’ll come wherever you want, ‘kay?” he peered down at you as you nodded with a small smile on your lips.

“where’s the rest of yous?” you questioned as all four of you joined the much smaller crowd walking towards the tents. most people had headed straight for bed while others took there time. “they copped out early.” was the answer.

“yeah, like big losers.” ethan’s own comment sent him into a fit of laughter, far too drunk to realise that no one else was joining in. tobi chuckled slightly at his friend until they finally reached there campsite. you all had paid extra for a nicer area, in which there wasn’t campfires set by drunks ready to burn down all of your belongings.

“night, tobs, thanks for making sure i was okay.” you gave the boy a half hug before glancing at ethan that was already stumbling off to go and find his own tent. “need any help with him?” you referred to the almost black out boy.

“nah, he’ll be fine.” tobi answered before following after the ginger. “come on, then.” harry wrapped his arms properly around you to lead you to your shared tent, climbing in quietly to not disturb anybody else.

“i feel dead.” you murmured with a grunt while harry zipped back up the opening. you quickly changed out of your restricting clothes into a baggy shirt and some pyjama shorts, finally able to become fully comfortable.

“we’ll don’t die until monday,” harry joked as he aswell changed into sweatpants to sleep in, “i’m not driving home with those idiots.” he referenced to your friends that were currently in there own tents.

you only chuckled before climbing into the large sleeping bag you had purchased together, a very thin mattress underneath that kept you both off of the ground by a few inches and made sleeping a lot easier for the both of you.

“hurry up.” you groaned out while harry set his clothes away, “i’m freezing.” you complained until he finally climbed into your shared sleeping bag, the goosebumps on your arms slowly fading as you snuggled into him for warmth.

“alright, babe, i already have a blanket i don’t need another.” he teased you but held you closer until you were practically draped over him. you didn’t even bother to react — too used to your boyfriends teasing comments.

instead you let the silence respond to him so you could finally close yout eyes and let exhaustion take over. thankfully, you fell asleep quickly thanks to your sore limbs and harry’s overly warm body making the sleeping bag feel like your own personal oven.

[adventuringblind]

Nerospicy has never been so cute

Oscar Piastri x Nerodivergent!reader

Genre: fluff... angst if you squint.

Request: nope but they are open! Max, Charles, Oscar, Lando, George, Daniel and Pierre are on the list. Also open for poly fics if anyone is interested.

Summary: just cute fluff between Oscar and his autistic coded partner

Warnings: idk people who can't mind their own business IG

Notes: This is self-indulgent, and I do not care. I just wanna feel supported, okay? T_T

Also, I've sent up my account to let tips be enabled. I was debating whether or not to say this because i dont want to sound like im begging, but frankly, people opinions do not matter me me. If you like my writing and want to support me, please consider tipping my posts or my blog. I put a lot of effort into my writing, and it would mean the world to me. Obviously, I won't have my feeling hurt if you ignor this but I wanted to put it out there.

Masterlist

You weren't sure if you'd ever fit in with people. Something about you always felt different from others.

Maybe it was that you didn't understand their antics. Their jokes weren't funny to you, or you didn't understand them. They seemed you as sensitive, but you're really just incredibly empathic.

You were interested in things that they weren't. You hated certain foods, textures, and feeling in general.

Then somtimes it all became too much. Alone in a dark room with headphones in. Attempting to soothe yourself from the overwhelming feelings running through your mind and body.

Your friends wanted to go out of a Friday night. Previously, you were feeling alright and decided to go with. Instantly regretting your decision as soon as you walked into the door of the club.

It was here that you met Oscar.

He didn't really want to be here. He'd given into the pleas of his friends who didn't want to go without him. He liked people and going out to have fun, but he wasn't in the mood right now.

He noticed you sitting at the bar nursing a drink. You looked like you wouldn't bother him, and the bar was already crowded, so he sat down on the stool next to yours.

You briefly looked over at him. Finding your drink to be more entertaining than the male next to you.

You were getting more overwhelmed by the second. The discreetly hidden earbuds only help so much. The vibration of the bass and the lights combined made you want to puke. You wanted to get out of there, but your body was ever so slowly shutting down.

Oscar noticed how your body was shrinking into itself. He didn't want to stare, but it was obvious you were in distress.

"Are you alright?" Asked the Australian.

You didn't look up at him, and words became too difficult, so you settled for shaking your head no.

Oscar thought about it for a minute. "Do you want to get out of here? I'm not in the mood to party, and you don't seem like you are either." He grimaced at how awkward he felt like he sounded. "I promise I'm not a serial killer or something." He laughed but it was more at himself then anything.

Eager to leave, regardless of who the man was, you stood up and made your way towards the door. You didn't have a tab, just water in your glass to make you feel like you belonged.

Once outside the door, you breathe a sigh of relief. Less people, less vibration, and less light.

You wanted to cry, though. Your body still feeling everything.

"Do you need anything? A ride home even? I probably seem like suck a creep right now." Oscar rubs his temples.

For the first time, you fully examine the male. Shocked to see kind features and gentle eyes. He was wearing a plain t-shirt and jeans.

"Thank you." You managed. Not wanting him to feel like a weirdo any longer.

He paused and looked up at you. Wanting to find your eyes but noticing your eyes did not want to find his. "I'm Oscar, by the way." He reached out his hand for you to shake.

Which you did hesitantly. "I'm Y/N."

~

You had explained to Oscar that you didn't live close to here. Over an hour away at best. You'd been exploring the town with friends earlier in the day when they decided to end the night at the club.

He offered you a stay at his apartment for the night and then he could take you home in the morning.

"Actually, can I take you on a date first?" He'd found you intriguing and beautiful, and he didn't want this to be for one night.

You were nervous, to say the least, but when he offered to take you anywhere you wanted to go, the deal seemed appealing. Furthermore, there was a music store you wanted to look at that your friends had passed by. So when he offered, you pointed him in the direction.

"Can I ask you something?" His eyes never left the rode, and you were grateful for it. It helped the conversation flow easier for you.

"Sure." You shrugged.

"Why are you wearing earbuds?"

Oh. You dreaded this. Talking about the way your body and mind work had yet to end well.

Your hesitancy did not do unnoticed, so Oscar quickly followed up with "you don't have to answer if it's uncomfortable."

"Well, it's just that- loud noise makes me overwhelmed, and things like headphones help drown it out." You fumbled.

"Oh I use those at work too sometimes cause it can get loud."

He seemed so natural saying it. His calm demeanor helping you to read him a bit better.

He then proceeded to tell you about his job and ask questions about you. He was very clear when he spoke. Eventually helping you to wind down.

This guy you just met was taking you on a date. Was it a good idea to out yourself? Probably not, but if you didn't care for people opinions much. "I'm autistic."

"I was wondering that but didn't want to ask. I had a friend in school that was, and in some ways, you seem similar to him." He hit his head on the steering wheel. "I'm not trying to stereotype. I'm sorry that probably sounded rude."

You laughed at him. His response was one of the best you'd been given. "It's alright, it's actually kind of cool that you picked up on it."

When you arrived it the music store it was ten minutes to close. The records lined the walls, and boxes of CDs were packed to the brim. Not many people use them nowadays, but it felt comfortable in the little store.

You and Oscar browsed the music and talked about the different kinds of music you like. It felt natural. Even when you knew you were info-dumping, he just listened intently and asked questions about your interest.

Soon enough, the shopkeeper asked you both to leave. You waved a thank you and slid back into Oscar's car.

"Thank you for indulging me. I really enjoyed this." You were shocked to hear that come from him. Mainly because you felt like you talked his ear off.

The drive to his apartment was quiet, but not the awkward kind.

He opened the door for you when you arrived. His apartment was comfortable. It's not super empty or overly decorated. It's just comfortable.

"Right, so you can borrow some of my clothes for tonight and take the room, and I'll take the couch." He didn't even give you a chance to protest as he sped off to gether the essentials.

You two didn't do much sleeping that night. Wasting away the time. The clock moving two fast for your liking. You two spent hours conversing and laughing with each other.

Somewhere along the line, Oscar passed out on the couch, and you had made your way to his room like he said to.

You two exchanged numbers when it was finally time for you to leave his car. He promised to stay in contact with you.

A promise he followed through on. It didn't take long til you were following him around to races.

You were mostly watched from the quiet places in the McLaren paddock. Sometimes, it even curled up in Oscar's driver room. He didn't mind, though, making it a small game you played between the two of you.

You and Lando got along nicely as well. Oscar only getting frustrated when it comes to both of you and your eating habits.

You were manageable, but Lando was just ridiculous in his eyes.

You didn't actively say your autistic but definitely explained why you are the way you are. Eventually, people came to their own conclusions. The gossip pages included.

You didn't really understand the criticism at first. People had always misjudged and misunderstood. But when they started nitpicking your every move, it became annoying.

The names didn't bother you. It was them saying Oscar deserved someone who wasn't as weird.

It followed you everywhere. These labels that the media had given you.

You were happy with Oscar. He treated you so well, and you were doing your best to support him. You two created your own small routines that you enjoyed.

You couldn't even walk through the paddock without journalists trying to question you. The physical souch of their bodies and shouting so they could be heard sending your body into overdrive. You liked the environment of racing, but this was over your limit.

You were so glad you texted Oscar you had arrived. Him responding that he was already on his way to you.

He noticed the journalists first, then you at the center of attention. Your hands in your hair and your breathing rapid. You looked like you might scream.

His legs moved faster than his mind as he put himself in between you and anyone else. Very gently, placing a hand on your shoulder to try and guide you away.

You did end up screaming. Your body needing to release all the pent-up emotions you'd been wanting to release earlier. Thankfully, it was somewhere private and muffled by Oscar's jacket.

You didn't want the so close like that. They were too much. They questions they asked were incredibly invasive. Some even going as far as to ask about intimate things.

You managed to explain to Oscar what happened. His listening intently, watching you play with his fingers in the pattern your head had come up with.

"I'm sorry. I'm not trying to make things hard for you."

Oscar smiled and simply shook his head. "You aren't making things difficult, and on the contrary, you and your nerodivergent brain have never looked so cute."

"I just got done screaming and trying to self-soothe."

"It doesn't matter. You still look absolutely adorable." He kissed the top of your head, hoping to convey what he was feeling without words.

Am hour later, Oscar had posted to his socials about you. A letter to anyone who wants to form an opinion.

"Leave my girlfriend be. Neither of us likes having our personal lives invaded. You like to assume things but don't have all the facts. I love her very much, and that should be all that matters."

As you read it and looked at Oscar, who was giving you a goofy smile for being proud of what he'd just done. You realized just how much he loved you. Despite your labels, he saw past them and loved you for you.

[loulouwrites]

MOMENTS . ALFIE SOLOMONS

summary: alfie's third child is about to be born, and he reflects on the births of his eldest children. warnings: pregnancy, childbirth, traumatic birth (but it's all okay), strained familial relationships, angst (not as bad as usual), swearing, murder, drinking, unedited wordcount: 2.4k a sequel to home but can be read as a standalone. <3

Alfie called his wife's name from the bottom of the stairs, his exhasperated shout echoing up the staircase and into the master bedroom. There was no response to his call, save for a pained scream that he was almost certain was not directed at him.

He breathed a sigh, climbing the stairs to at a time and knocking on the bedroom door, his wife's cries muffled by the heavy oak door. He called her name again, louder this time. "The kids are bein' fuckin' mental, I don't know what to do with them."

The door swung open, revealing a very angry old woman. Ms Abrams was a stern woman, she had delivered hundreds of babies, including all of the Solomons children, his wife insisting she was the best midwife they could ask for - she was also one of the few people Alfie was genuinely scared of. So scared he had considered stopping getting his wife pregnant just so he'd never have to see her severe, wrinkled face ever again.

"Mr Solomons, your wife is in labour, I will not have a repeat of last time," the woman hissed at him, swatting him away with a blemished hand.

"I don't know what to do with them," Alfie said, desperately, his hands thrown out at his sides. Ms Abrams gave him a pointed look that caused him to shrink back slightly, memories of her beating him with a heavy Charles Dickens book during Bessies birth flashing in his mind.

"You're their father, Mr Solomons - figure it out," she slammed the door in his face before he could protest, and he was left to figure it out alone.

"Dad, Bessie got into your office again!" Benjamin called from the bottom of the stairs, the giggles of his little sister following his voice.

When Benjamin had been born, eight years ago, Alfie had been mortified by the entire experience. His wife had woken up in the middle of the night, in unbearable pain, gripping onto his arm so tightly that in the haze of sleep, he had reached for the gun he always kept in his bedside table.

When she had told him to call for the midwife, he had done so without hesitation, and when there was no answer, he had sent Ollie to collect her and bring her to the house personally - it was a terrible first impression for both Alfie and Ms Abrams.

When the old woman finally did arrive, she had instructed Alfie to leave.

"Go to the pub or something, it's what most men do."

But Alfie was not most men, and had insisted he be close by, just in case. It had not impressed Ms Abrams, who had rolled her eyes at the gangster as if he were a spoiled child, before telling him to wait downstairs for however long it would take.

It was three hours in when Ms Abrams came running down the stairs, hurriedly asking him where the phone was, and he directed her to it wordlessly. He asked to her what was wrong, but she had ignored him, speaking into the phone in a tone that Alfie knew too well - panicked.

His head went fuzzy as he watched the woman clutch the phone to her ear, speaking in a hushed tone to whoever was on the other end.

"We need a doctor here immediately," she had said, and Alfie had started for the stairs before either of them could blink. He ignored the protests of the older woman, rushing up the stairs and into the bedroom too fast for her to catch up and stop him.

He didn't know what he was expecting - maybe blood, maybe his wife lying lifelessly on the bed - but there was no red stains on the sheet, and she was lying on the bed, very much alive, though pale and tired.

"Alfie," she breathed out, her head flopping back on the headboard. "What's happening?"

He had no response, he just lingered in the doorway helplessly.

What was happening?

"Get out," Mrs Abrams pushed past him, a man in a nice suit following behind her, giving the scared husband a polite smile as he squeezed past.

"No," Alfie spat at her. "You tell me what's going on."

Neither of them responded, sharing a worried look, before the man kneeled at the bottom of the bed, ensuring his wife that everything was going to be fine.

Ms Abrams glanced at Alfie, and with a heavy sigh, placed a hand on his shoulder to push him out of the room, closing the door halfway so she could speak to him through the crack.

"The baby is in distress," she said, holding a hand up when Alfie went to interrupt her. "It'll be fine, Mr Solomons, the doctor is here now. I'm certain it will all be fine."

But Alfie could read the midwife's face.

She wasn't certain - how could she be?

Eveything worked out, Benjamin Solomons was born one hour later, his cries filling the house, and Alfie shot up from where he sat on the floor outside the bedroom, waiting for the door to open.

"Your son is here, Mr Solomons," Ms Abrams said, smiling for the first time since he had met her all those hours ago. He nodded at her, pushing into the room as the midwife and doctor left, not paying any mind to them as he approached the bed where his wife lay, with a now quiet baby in her arms.

Alfie had seen babies before, though they were at least a few weeks old, cleaned and dressed properly, ready to meet strangers. This one, though, was purple and swollen, with his eyes scrunched shut and his lips pursed as he took in his new surroundings.

Benjamin was an ugly baby - but he was theirs.

"Bessie, please stop," Alfie sighed at his daughter as she sped around his study, throwing pieces of paper in the air, laughing when her dad would try and catch them before they hit the floor.

She was a fast two year old, she seemed to have endless energy that didn't burn out until the very end of the day, Alfie swore she tried to tire everybody else out first.

The knock at the door interrupted Alfie's protests, and he gave up, scooping the little girl into his arms and making his way to the front door, stopping in the foyer at the sight of his mother-in-law greeting her grandson and stepping into the house.

Her eyes flickered from Benjamin to Alfie, and the smile fell from her lips, pursing into a look of disgust.

"Alfie," she nodded, scoffing when the man ignored her, spinning on his heel as his daughter laughed, reaching her arms out to her 'bubbee'.

He was sat at the kitchen table with Bessie, pretending to listen to her babbling when the woman walked in, hand in hand with Benjamin - they had always gotten along - and it pissed Alfie off like nothing else.

"How long has it been?" She asked, pulling off her gloves and sitting in the chair opposite him.

"Four hours," Benjamin said proudly - he had been counting.

"Might be a while yet," she sighed, turning to her grandson. "Why don't you take your sister to the shop and get yourselves some sweets while we wait?" She was already reaching into her purse to pull out some coins before Alfie could protest.

"Sweeties!" Bessie laughed from her seat, jumping down and pulling her big brother by his hand out of the door.

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't do that," Alfie grumbled, crossing his arms tightly over his chest.

"They're just sweets, Alfie, it won't do them any harm," she waved a dismissive arm. "Besides, it looked like you could use a break," she let her eyes trail across the room - he would admit, it had been tidier.

"Surprised to see you, don't usually show up for these things," he was challenging her, and from the way she sat up in her seat, she was ready for it.

"I'm her mother, Alfie, she asked me to be here."

"Well she's emotional," he shrugged calmly. "Pregnancy brings out her meloncholy side."

"I'm trying to be a better mother, I would appreciate it if you let me."

"Yeah," Alfie scoffed, "too little too late for me, love."

"Glass houses, Alfie," the woman glared at him. "You've hardly been an outstanding husband."

"Never threw her out on the streets, though, have I? Let me tell you somethin', you can see her as often as you like but if you dare come into my home and try and poison her, or my children, against me" he leaned forward in his chair. "Your body will be floating in the thames before those kids get home from the shop."

She seemed taken aback by his comment, and it made Alfie want to throttle her, if it wasn't for his wife upstairs, he probably would. She opened her mouth to respond, but was interrupted by the two children running back into the house, the front door slamming shut behind them.

"Dad, she stole my cola cubes," Benjamin whined, pointing to his younger sister, who had a sly grin on her face and her hands tucked behind her back.

"I'm going to go and check on your mother," she spoke to her grandchildren, offering them a smile as she left the kitchen.

"Is mummy hurt, daddy?" Bessie asked, climbing onto his lap, a white bag of cola cubes in her hand.

"Yeah," Alfie nodded, "but not for long. It'll be over soon."

Bessie's birth had gone much smoother than Benjamin's had - from what Alfie could remember.

He hadn't been home when his wife had gone into labour, he had been at the bakery, dealing with business that could not be delegated to anybody else.

The was a rat in the bakery, and after months of searching his men had finally figured out who it was. The phone rang in his office incessantly, but nobody heard it over the sound of the man's screams from the main floor.

Rats didn't die quick. That was his policy when it came to such matters, and this day was no exception. It had taken hours for the man's body to finally give up, for his body to slump on the floor with little fight left in him, and that's when Alfie shot him in the head - like a lame horse.

It was divine retribution in a way. This man died while Alfie's daughter was being born - there was a clear winner in the scenario.

He had drank rum from the distillery after, the phone had stopped ringing and it was quiet again, and he took a moment to himself, drinking half the bottle before he decided it was time to call it a night.

He didn't drink the rum out of guilt for what he had done, nor had he done it in celebration - he just needed a moment of silence, a moment to cleanse his mind of what he had done before he went home and hugged his son and kissed his wife.

He had come home stumbling, Benjamin was already in bed, fast asleep and the house was eerily quiet - until he stumbled into the bedroom that is.

The screams were delayed when they hit his ears, a frown on his face when his bleary eyes lifted from the carpet to his bed, where his wife was sat up, a screaming infant in his arms and an unimpressed look on her face, the midwife stood at her bedside seemingly shaking with rage.

"Fuckin' hell, you had another one?" He laughed, throwing his head back. He was still laughing when Ms Abrams approached him a book from the bedside table in her hands, delivering a smack to the side of his head, knocking his hat onto the floor. "For fuck's sake," Alfie groaned, cradling his ear with his hand, but the woman didn't stop, hitting him repeatedly with the book until he backed out of the room.

"Go and wash the smell of rum off of you and get youself together, man," she hissed once she had him backed into the wall outside the bedroom.

He didn't argue with her, shuffling into the bathroom before she could get another hit in.

"Her name is Elisabeth, by the way," she called out after him.

Bessie was finally in bed when Mrs Abrams came into the kitchen.

"You have another son, Mr Solomons," she said plainly, her coat already on her shoulders and her bag in the crook of her elbow.

Alfie got up from his seat and nodded greatfully at her before he rushed for the stairs, glaring at his mother-in-law as she passed him, heading for the door.

Benjamin was already in the room when he got there, kneeling on the bed to gaze at his new baby brother in wonder, and Alfie approached cautiously, coming to stand at the side of the bed, placing a hand on his wife's shoulder and looking down at the baby.

It didn't look much different to the other two when they had been born, it had the same purple and swollen face, the same scrunched up expression on its face, though he was much smaller than Benjamin had been.

"What's his name, mum?" Benjamin asked bouncing up and down on the bed, trying to contain his giddiness.

"I think your dad should choose this time," she said, looking up at her husband with a dazed smile on her face. Benjamin's head turned to his father expectantly, and Alfie froze. He had had no part in the naming of his first two children, their names chosen before he had a chance to process they were even born, it had annoyed him until this very moment.

"What about Isaac?" He offered eventualy, and mother and son shared a thoughtful look.

"No," they spoke in unison.

"Fine," Alfie sighed. "Benny? What do you want to name him?"

"Noah," Benjamin said proudly, and the husband and wife shared a look, nodding together in silent agreement.

"Benny, go to bed, now." Alfie spoke, ignoring the frown on his son's face as he clambered off the bed.

"I heard you threatened to throw my mother in the Thames," she said when the door closed behind Benjamin.

Alfie shushed her, moving to sit on the bed. "Don't talk about her, Noah's listening."

Her eyes began to droop shut and Alfie gently took the infant from her arms, holding the little thing bundled in a yellow blanket, watching as his eyes began to close too.

Alfie was the last only one who didn't sleep that night, keeping a hold of his youngest son until the sun came up.

[nervousgardenerkid]

Private, not secret

a/n: me being happy cause my no sabo ass can finally start using the little spanish sayings i've learned/said throughout my life😭😭not sure how to feel about this or how it ended....just the thought of miguel coming home and COMPLETELY unwinding and being putty in ur hands....it does something to me okay?? i just wanna take care of him pls as always i hope u all enjoy this and credit to the gif owner! <3

warnings: none really! cursing, some spanish, (that's probs not good i'm sorry my luvs i wasn't taught my native language </3) miguel being soft then grumpy lol, not proofread (that's a warning itself).

no pronouns are used in this story and there wasn't any specific races mentioned so everyone can read!! i'll probs do a translation of the phrases i used later👁️👄👁️

There was one thing that was certain about Miguel O’Hara, and that one thing was how private he was about his life. It was no surprise to anyone at headquarters how private he was about his life outside of Spiderman. For all they knew, Miguel practically lives in his office. From the moment they stepped foot into the building, to the moment they walked out, Miguel would be there staring at the screens that were in front of him.

There was something different about today though. Something different about this week. It hadn't been the best week for any of the Spider-people down at headquarters, meaning it definitely wasn't a good week for Miguel. Anomalies were escaping, villains were destroying cities, and Hobie missed a morning debrief again, yet Miguel hasn't blown up yet. Not even a cold icy glare was sent their way.

“This is weird…” Peter mumbled to himself as Mayday crawled up his body, sitting on his shoulders giggling as he watched Miguel talk to Hobie calmly.

Gwen lowered herself down from the ceiling hanging upside down beside him.

“I was thinking the same thing.”

She flips over, landing on her feet effortlessly.

“Doesn't he usually start yelling by this point?” Pavitr asked, following closely behind Gwen.

Peter slowly nods his head, his eyes not leaving the sight in front of him, but widening more when he sees Miguel laugh at something Hobie says.

“Did he just…?” Peter mumbles quietly to himself

“Oh yeah, he did,” Gwen says while grabbing onto Mayday.

“Awe nah,” Miles said, swinging next to them.

“Yall remember when he tried literally killing me?! Ain't no way bros just out here laughing now.”

“Laughing with me too at that,” Hobie said while turning around and watching Miguel leave before facing his friends again with a sly smile.

“You all thinking what I'm thinking?” Hobie asked.

“We go home early?” Peter asked while taking Mayday back from Gwen, placing her in her carrier.

“We kidnap him for questioning-”

“We follow him home-”

“We leave him alone to bathe in his happiness!”

Four pairs of eyes all fall on Pavitr as soon as the words leave his mouth, causing him to nervously clear his throat.

“I’m just saying…maybe it's best if we leave him alone. I mean, do we really want Miguel to be angry and start yelling at us again?”

-

“I guess we do want Miguel to yell at us.”

Pavitr whispered harshly, earning four loud shushes as they hung off of a random building.

“Are you sure this is the right place?” Miles asked quietly as he put his hands up near his eyes, peering into the window.

“Has to be,” Hobie replied with a smile as he grabbed onto Mayday who was crawling up to the roof.

“We followed him here ourselves!” Gwen exclaimed. “He has to be here.”

Peter gasps and ducks out of your eyesight, pulling down Gwen and Pavitr with him and shushing everyone.

“Oh my god, we should've listened to Pav-”

“Yes, you should have.” Pav cut off with a smile.

“This is someone else’s house!”

Miles whispered as he kept looking at the window, silently thanking the universe for his invisibility powers.

“Miles! Get down already!” Gwen said while looking up at him, but her words go into one of Miles’ ears and out the other as he watches Miguel walk into the home with a familiar scowl on his face.

“Wait! Miguel just walked in.”

Interest peaked from everyone as they all make their way over to the window, peeking inside and gasping when they see you jump into Miguel’s arms

“I don't believe it…” Gwen quietly said to herself.

“Huh, well that's something I didn't expect.” Peter followed.

“Oh, this is great! Miguel is in love with someone! Do you think anyone else knows? What about Jess? Or maybe even-”

Pav’s words are cut short when Mayday starts banging on the window when she sees the large familiar man her father works with. Gasps leave the mouths of everyone when they hear the exchange between you and Miguel.

“Miguel…why is there a baby sticking to our window?”

“Dios mío, pinche Parker…”

Peter feels his heart drop when his last name leaves Miguel’s lips. He reaches up ready to grab his beautiful daughter (and possibly say his last words to her) but grabs onto a chiseled face instead.

“Oi, he's a dead man now, yeah?” Hobie whispers to his friends.

Peter slowly looks up, giggling nervously when he sees Miguel's face in his hands still.

“Parker, let go of my face.”

Peter quickly drops his hands and starts stuttering over his words to explain why he's there with everyone until Miguel holds up a hand to stop him.

“You five,” he said, gesturing to the group. “In the house.”

The group wastes no time as they all swing into Miguel’s house carefully trying not to knock anything over. It's now that they take the time to look around his decorated home, smiling when they see pictures scattered along the wall. The place is nice, it screams Miguel and someone else, they just don't know who yet.

“Parker. Your baby, please.”

Peter looks back over at Miguel who stands perfectly still as Mayday begins to climb over him into the arms of a giggling you.

“She is just adorable! Mira que lindo, Miggy! Don't you just want to eat her up?”

Peter’s heart swells when Mayday giggles at your compliments, his eyes widening a bit when he sees Miguel smile at you.

“Yes, cariño she's cute, but I think she needs to go back with Peter.”

Peter steps forward with his arms out, chuckling when Mayday jumps into them. Miguel turns to face them all, ready to send them back home when he sees the looks on their faces.

“Fine,” he sighs. “Ask away.”

“Are you the reason he’s nicer now?”

“How long has this been going on?!”

“Does he glare at you when you mess up things too?”

“This couch is lovely. I have to know where you got it from.”

You laugh softly as questions are thrown your way a mile a minute. Miguel grumbles to himself as he walks over to the kitchen table, your hand in his as he drags you to sit onto his lap.

“You happier at work now guapo? Hm?”

The team collectively gasps when a pretty rose color makes itself evident across his cheeks as your hands run through his hair, tangling itself with the strands resting on the back of his neck.

“Mi alma...not in front of them.” he quietly whines while hiding his face on your shoulder.

“No way he's blushing right now,” Miles mumbles under his breath to Hobie.

Miguel shoots him a glare, his eyes glowing red as you let out soft coos and bring his head against your chest.

“Yah Miggy, cálmate por favor,”

You look over at the spider people standing around in your living room, getting up from Miguel’s lap and walking over to the fridge.

“Are you guys hungry?” you asked while looking over your shoulder and smiling at them.

“I didn't make enough dinner for all of us but I'm sure I can find something to cook real quick!”

“Amor, they were just leaving-” Miguel starts, but is cut off quickly.

“I could eat some food.”

“I'll take some water if that's okay!”

Peter walks over to Miguel’s food, grabbing a piece of food from his plate and humming in contentment when the flavors melt on his tongue.

“This is amazing! What seasonings did you use?”

Miguel can't even comprehend what's happening as everyone rushes over toward you, stealing your attention away from him. He takes a moment to let everything sink in as his eyes fall on you smiling and laughing while holding Mayday in your arms. His heart swells at the sight in front of him, feeling nothing but happiness at the fact that you get along with people he's grown close to over time. That happy little bubble he's in quickly pops when he sees Peter standing over the stove with Hobie and Miles, eating the food you cooked as if they haven't eaten in years.

“Please, have some. We insist.” Miguel said under his breath, his arms crossing over his chest.

“Fank…you!” Miles said with a mouthful of food. Homie and Peter followed him giving him a thumbs up with a smile.

Miguel takes a deep breath, his hands flying to his face pinching the bridge of his nose as he makes his way over to you while mumbling under his breath.

“No puedo mas, no puedo mas, no puedo mas.”

He smiles as Mayday jumps from your arms into his, his hands finding their way under her tiny arms as he lifts her into the air laughing with her.

“Do you really need your daddy Mayday? I'm sure you can stay with me and mi vida, no?”

Mayday laughs, her hands loudly coming together as she claps, then puts her hand into her mouth when Miguel settles her onto his shoulders.

Peter quickly gulps down the food that was in his mouth as Gwen lets out an awkward chuckle.

“Something tells me we’ve overstayed our welcome…”

Peter nods his head quickly, snatching Mayday off of Miguel and offering you a smile.

“Yeah, we should head out soon, pretty sure MJ is cooking lasagna tonight.”

The rest of the group walked toward the window they entered in, their heads looking over their shoulders waving goodbye to you as they thank you and hope to meet again soon. Miguel wraps his arms around you from behind as he watches them all filter out the room one by one, swinging their way back home.

He sighs and rests his head on your shoulder.

“Everything okay Miggy?” you ask quietly as you reach out behind you to play with his hair.

He nods his head, his arms squeezing you just a bit tighter as he starts to leave kisses where your shoulder and neck meet.

“Just tired cariño, even when I'm away from work I can't escape them.”

You chuckle and turn around to face him, your arms draping around his shoulders as you place a kiss on his cheek.

“They just wanna see what's got you so happy at work now guapo,” you whisper quietly. “They’re your friends and they love you.

Your hands come to rest on his cheeks, your thumbs gently caressing his skin. He leans into your touch, a small scoff leaving his lips.

“They aren't my-”

“They are your friends.” you lean up a bit to gently place a kiss on his lips, smiling when you pull away and watch him follow your lips.

“They're your friends and you love them, Miguel.”

He smiles, placing another kiss on you as his hand tangles itself in your hair, attempting to bring you closer to him.

“Fine,” he mumbles, pulling away with a smile. “They're my friends and I love them, but not as much as I love you.”

Your hands slide down to his chest and grip the shirt he's wearing, bringing him closer to you, ready to get lost in the feeling of him before a voice breaks you both away.

“Awe, we love you too Miguel.”

“Pinche cabrón- Parker! Go home!”

[dyns33]

The Big Cat

It was difficult but I wrote for Miguel O Hara ! Took me weeks, and I’ll try again, but I don”t know why, it’s super hard to write about him. 

It was mainly to laugh and annoy him that Y/N was saying that Miguel was more like a cat than a spider.

It was also somewhat true.

Between his fangs, claws, heels, and demeanor, the leader of the Spider Society often looked like a big cat. Grumpy, territorial, asocial.

When he wasn't out in the field shutting down an anomaly, he stayed in his office, growling when someone came uninvited, and even when they were invited. 

It was hard to be close to him, but many of them tried. Some managed it, a bit, like Jess and Peter. Y/N too according to them, although she wasn't always sure.

 She remained hopeful, telling herself that if she really bothered him, he would have sent her back to her dimension a long time ago.

Even when she stood against him during the Miles affair, she was the only one not to be sent back to her universe. He didn't change his mind, but he listened to her, mumbling and sighing, because she didn't understand anything, but he didn't yell at her, he didn't threaten her, and she wasn't thrown into a portal. 

But maybe he hadn't done it yet because he wasn't cruel. Y/N had no one in her dimension. People didn't like her, they saw her as a criminal, she had no friends, her crush (whom she hadn't even held hands once) had died falling from a roof.

The spider society was the best thing that had happened to her, and without her being able to explain why, she really wanted to be close to Miguel, the big cat.

Y/N wondered if it was irony when it was she who was turned into a cat by an anomaly. She had barely had time to teleport to HQ and now she was meowing desperately through the halls, trying to find someone who could help her.

Of course, it had to be the big cat.

It was always difficult to know what Miguel was thinking. He spoke little, and his face didn't often show emotion, except when he was angry. Very angry.

Regarding the animals, it was also difficult to know what he thought of them. There were Animal Spiders, but it wasn't the same. He treated Ham, Spider-cat and T-rex with respect, talking to them as if they were human.

Real animals were different.

     "Hola." he said calmly, with his monotonous tone, approaching her. "Are you lost, little thing ?"

     "Meow !" was the only answer Y/N could give him.

     "Don't be afraid, amor. How did you get in here?  Someone took you ? Well, whatever. You must be thirsty. Come with me."

Y/N had already seen Miguel with Peter's baby, and some children during missions. She knew he could be sweet. But he had never been like this with her, so it was a surprise to find herself in his arms.

He carried her to his office, where he offered her some water, before putting her on his lap and stroking her head. Dreamy. Y/N couldn't help purring. Eyes closed, enjoying the feeling, she didn't see him smile. Miguel never smiled.

     "Lyla." he said pressing down on his computer. "Find out whose cat this is and how it got into HQ."

     "I'm waiting."

     "... Please."

     "Right away, boss !"

As his virtual assistant disappeared to complete her task, Miguel continued to pat her head while concentrating on the screens of his many computers.

Most of them showed universes where certain anomalies had been reported, and which he watched very carefully. Others from the universes of spiders who had caused problems, like Miles, or who needed to rest, like Jess. There were images of a variant of Miguel with a little girl. And there was a screen with Y/N.

She stared at it, suddenly stopping purring, surprised to see herself here and not understanding why.

Like the big cat that he was, Miguel took note, looking down at her.

     "What ? Do you want something, amor ?"

     "Meow !"

     “Hmm. Oh, her ? A nuisance, don't worry."

     "You mean your tu pequeño favorito, tu dulce sueño, tu..."

     "Lyla !" Miguel growled, waving his hand to blur the apparition, which made her laugh even more. "Shut up."

     "Okay, I won't say anything about your secret. And I couldn't find anything on the cat, the cameras had a weird reception problem, and then we can see it hanging around the halls."

     "It's not normal, find the reason for this concern. And... I don't want any comment, but I thought that Y/N had to take care of an anomaly. It's been several hours, she doesn't didn't send in her report. Did she come back ?"

     "I think so ? Her watch beeped in this dimension. I'm inquiring, boss ! Don't panic, I'm sure your querida isn't far."

     "Callate, idiota !"

Sometimes Peter B. annoyed everyone by saying that his daughter had magical powers and that holding her in your arms made it possible not to get upset.

Y/N could now tell that her cat version had managed to contain Miguel, who was flushed with rage, visibly ready to destroy everything around him and yell at Lyla, but just breathed very hard, gently holding her against him.

     "I'm sorry, amor... It's fine." he reassured her by patting her neck. "It's just... I'm tired."

There were some things Lyla had said that had troubled Y/N, but the tall spiderman's sad look caught her full attention. She had never seen him like this.

There had been the story of the dimension he had destroyed. Moments when he stared into space. The huge Morales disaster, when some wondered if the spider society still had a reason to exist if their leader made so many mistakes.

Luckily, the majority had come to Miguel's defense, because as spiders they had all made mistakes, lots of mistakes, always thinking they were making the right decision and wanting to do good. Y/N was one of those.

Their support had seemed to please Miguel, even if he had hesitated to give up his place and go into exile. Since then, he had made efforts, he had been more careful.

Even if he continued to behave like an aggressive and grumpy feline with the younger ones who hurt themselves a little too much, and with Y/N who loved to tease him, and who also hurt herself a bit, sometimes.

     "Meow." she said, rubbing her nose against Miguel's face, which brought up a sad smile.

     "Thank you, mi amor. that's nice. I thought after Morales... But there are always anomalies. Always worlds to save. And always... Why can't she pay attention ? It's although she protects the little ones, like she protected Miles. She was right, I should have listened to her, but I couldn't risk destroying the entire multiverse for one man if she was wrong."

     "I know, you already told me." tried to say Y/N. "Except that you were wrong, you never really said it, because you're too proud."

     "Exactly. I knew you would understand. I didn't want to hurt the kid, or anyone. It was a shock when I saw his dad get up and everything was fine. So I thought I could... We could... But no, it's still too risky. And I don't think she'll want to. But she could at least take care of her own safety ! Mierda ! I've already lost... Everyone I love die. I don't want this to happen to her. I'm tired, amor. So tired."

Since he hadn't said her name, Y/N wondered if he was still talking about her, because she found it hard to believe that Miguel O'Hara, big lonely cat, was talking about love, and especially the love he felt for her.

If she teased him so often and wanted to be close to him, it wasn't because she was sociable. It was for another reason that seemed ridiculous and stupid. Until now.

Without realizing it, she had started to purr again, clinging to his neck. That seemed to help him a bit, as Miguel stopped shaking, caressing her and muttering a few words in Spanish.

It worked, until Lyla came back.

     "Uh... Boss ?"

     "What ?" Miguel muttered, keeping his face in Y/N's fur.

     "Uh... No one knows where Y/N is."

     "... What ?"

     "Her watch beeped here, but we can't track it. No trace of her, no one saw her. The anomaly she was supposed to capture was attached, but not brought back."

     "No. No no no !"

This time the cat was forgotten, placed on the desk for Miguel to get up quickly and run around the building, not knowing that the person he was looking for had been on his lap for almost an hour. And Y/N had no way to make it clear to him, not having her powers to follow him, and Spidercat not being there to do the translation.

She wandered all the same in the corridors of the Spider society, crossing several spiders which caressed her all the head before continuing to seek her.

At the end of the day, they all gathered in the cafeteria, Miguel in the middle, mumbling, shaking, rubbing his eyes trying to stay calm.

     "... No one found her ?"

     "No." replied Peter B., touching his shoulder. "Gwen, Miles, Hobbie and Pav went to town. Jess and Ben looked into other dimensions. I searched the whole building with the others."

     "... But her watch is there. The anomaly was captured and unconscious. If she... Where is she ? Peter, where is she ?!"

     "Calm down, Miggie. Y/N is gifted, smart and strong. I'm sure she's fine."

     "What if she's not fine ?!" Miguel shouted, baring his fangs. "If she's hurt, or worse ?! I shouldn't have sent her on a mission alone ! I should have..."

     "Do you want to hold Mayday ? It would be nice if you held Mayday."

     "I don't want to hold your baby, estúpido, I want to find Y/N ! Where's Y/N ?!"

     "Meow."

All the spiders then looked at Y/N, who had sat by Miguel's feet and was staring at him, purring. At first they thought it was cute. Then they wondered how a cat had entered the building.

And then, Miguel the first, they understood.

     "... Y/N ?"

Normally, Miguel would have been reassured, while completely panicked by realizing that he had said a lot of things to Y/N in passing that she was a cat, and he would have gone and locked himself in his office asking Jess to find a solution, unable to face the situation.

It was a surprise for Y/N to find herself back in his arms, the big cat hugging her tenderly, caressing her neck and holding back what looked like sobs.

     "Amor, I believed... I believed... Never do that again."

Throughout all the examinations and searches for a solution, he held her against his chest, growling when someone tried to take her from him.

It didn't take long for Lyla to figure out how the anomaly had transformed Y/N, and how to return her to her normal form. It was then that Miguel went to hide in his office, refusing to see anyone. Especially Y/N.

The big shy cat was sulking again in his corner.

Luckily, thanks to Hobbie, Y/N knew how to get in without being spotted. Very useful for pranking and annoying the boss. Very useful also to force him to have a discussion about his feelings.

     "Hi Mig !"

     "… What do you want ? Give me your report on your last mission ?" he asked without turning around.

     "Oh, that. Yes, why not ? So, I found the anomaly, I caught it, but they turned me into a cat, I ended up in the spider society where a big sulky cat took good care me, because he has a soft heart under his muscles, and he loves me very much."

Y/N smiled then, waiting for a reaction, but nothing. Miguel continued to stare at his screens, showing no sign of annoyance or anger. She then guessed the face he was making. She jumped on the platform, near him.

Contrary to what she had thought, he did not move. He didn't hide his moist eyes, his sad and broken expression. He stood there, waiting for her to laugh at him and tell him that he was stupid, that he had made another mistake, that he had no right to be happy, to have someone, because anyway as soon as he loved someone, that person was hurt.

     "And I love that ridiculous big cat a lot too. Lyla has found a cure, I'm me again and hopefully the big cat will come out of his den to come and have a coffee with me at the cafeteria ?"

This time, Miguel turned a little towards her, looking lost.

     "... End of the report ? Happy ? We did a great job, it really deserves a coffee."

     "Y/N..."

     "For real. Great teamwork. We'll have to do this again. Well, not the part where I'm transformed, nor the part where you're scared because you thinl that I'm dead, but the long talk about feelings, the hugs, the purrs. It was mostly me, but I'm pretty sure you were purring too at some point."

     "Y/N."

     "I understood what you were scared of, and I guess I was scared of the same thing, and that's why you're avoiding me, and I wasn't trying to be more than your friend, but actually..."

     "If I say yes to coffee, will you stop talking so much ?"

     "No. Maybe. I do talk when I'm drinking, but it's rare, and I'm a bit cold afterwards because my clothes are wet. It's difficult to talk and drink at the same time."

Miguel sighed, frowning at his eyes, as he often did, but Y/N saw that he was hiding a small smile behind his hand.

He agreed to follow her to the cafeteria, where he sat across from her to watch her drink her coffee and listen to her talk over and over. The other spiders were intrigued, because the boss never came to the cafeteria.

Peter B. took a photo, because according to him it was important to have memories of the first date.

     "It's not a date." muttered Miguel.

     "My heart is bleeding, Mig. Ouch. I thought we had something special."

     "It's just a coffee. For our first date, we'll go to the best restaurant in Nueva York, not the tower."

     "Aaaaw, Miggie."

     "I have pictures of Miguel holding cat Y/N."

Letting Peter take pictures was obviously not a problem for Miguel. But when Miles had finished his sentence, he turned to the young spider, who didn't seem to see the problem.

     "What ? That was so cute ! It looked like a cat daddy with his baby cat !"

     "I agree. I have pictures too." Lyla said as she appeared near the kid. "A lot."

     "... Erase them."

     "Send them to me." said almost all the other spiders at the same time. 

     "Morales."

     "It's sent !"

     "Miguel, don't start chasing the kid again !" Peter shouted as he followed them down the halls.

Y/N let them, knowing that Miguel wouldn't hurt Miles. He was only furious that evidence of his vulnerable side existed, because like cats, he was proud and stupid. So she finished her coffee waiting for him to come back to shyly ask her when they could go on their real first date.

[chixkencxrry]

mi sol

Summary: You get a new job as a caretaker at a mysterious estate two towns over. The salary is good enough for you to ignore certain things -- at first. Soon enough you have no choice but to get away. Too bad you're in for life. (one-shot, plot with porn) Vampire! Yandere! Miguel O'Hara x Fem! Reader

Warnings: eventual SMUT, masturbation, p in v, pussy eating, somewhat YANDERE! MIGUEL, YOUR CONSUMPTION OF MEDIA IS ON YOU! NOT PROOFED

fanart by @yeagersatorubar (twt)

The email had come in the middle of the night.

It was from an unrecognizable source. An acceptance to something, some job you didn’t remember applying for. A caretaker job two towns over. You rubbed your eyes in the blue light glare of your rickety laptop, lips pursued as you read.

“When did I apply for this?”

Attached to the close of the email was a number and name. A woman named Lyla was the contact. The name of the property was Stone. You dialled the number. If the person was sending the email this late, you didn’t worry about your call waking them up. 

“Hello. You must be our new caretaker.”

You cleared your throat – taken aback. “I, uh, yes. I am. I hope it’s okay that I’m calling this late.”

The woman chuckled. “That’s fine! You’ll learn that we keep odd hours here.”

“Right,” did you really need the money that much? You eyed your room. It was pink, with posters half hanging. It had been your childhood room and you still occupied it. It made your mouth itch. You needed to leave. “When do you want me to start?”

Though as your taxi pulled up to the estate, you found yourself regretting it. Maybe regret was too strong a word. You found yourself reconsidering it. Had you done something terribly stupid by coming here? By packing your things and telling your parents they could fuck off?

It had taken four hours to get here, the sun had set and it was twilight now. Would it be too early to run back with your tail between your legs? Were you so weak that you had to give up? 

“That’ll be 50$.” the driver grunted, growing impatient with your slow movement.

You baulked and shoved the bill into his hand. Out of spite, you took your time to get your bags out – making sure you didn’t miss one. You could have sworn you heard him curse as he drove off. Rolling your eyes, you slid your phone out to get to your emails – Lyla had sent you the code to get in. Turning your flashlight on the keypad, you punched the code in and continued your trek up the property. It was a long walk that left you huffing. 

Once you met the great doors, you knocked the lion-faced knockers loudly a few times and waited. When you went to try for a second time, it pierced your skin, making you hiss. Your finger slipped into your mouth and you sucked. 

The door swung open to reveal a fashionable dress auburn-haired woman with heart-shaped sunglasses. She grinned at you. All sharp, white teeth. “Hello! Aren't you an earlier riser?”

You bristled. “Pardon?”

“Are these your bags?” She turned her head inside the mansion and whistled. “I’ll get Ben to bring them in.”

Lyla was the assistant of the owner of the house. A real recluse, she claimed. You didn’t mind. They had paid you a freaking signing bonus when you agreed. Who gave signing bonuses to caretakers? Dumb rich people. This guy could be a troll for all you cared. As long as each salary came with the flourish of that, you could never meet the man. 

“It's more of a managerial position really.” Lyla clarified after showing you the lion’s share of the house. “Ben takes care of the heavy lifting. Or Peter – he doesn’t show up much though, new father and all that.”

“We have cameras in the common areas. Bedrooms and baths are off limits of course. You’ll get access to them.”

“So, Mr. Stone just wants me to look after the place? Make sure it's clean and in order?”

Lyla stilled, causing you to bump into her. Her pale face twitched. “Mr. O’Hara. Don’t make that mistake again.”

“Sorry. It’s just the name of the estate –”

Lyla shook her head. “Don’t make that mistake again.”

“My bad.”

The tour continued on silently. Lyla stopped at the West Wing, where a portrait of a young family hung. They were dressed in regalia from at least three centuries ago. It was of two beautiful boys, a stately-looking woman and a cold-faced man. You shivered. You hoped the man was not Mr O’Hara.

“Don’t worry,” Lyla seemed to read your mind. Her pointer finger landed on the taller of the two boys. “That’s Mr O’Hara.”

You relaxed. Even though it was an old photo, the bright-eyed kid couldn’t be too different from the man who had just hired yourself out to. 

Right?

***

Miguel felt warm.

For the first time in a century, he felt the warmth of you in the walls of his prison. It was like feeling the sun again. Like tasting wine, luscious and dark. You were home. He hadn’t risen yet. His meal sat by his window, eyes glossed over with compulsion. Miguel didn’t want to see you without eating. It had been so long after all. So very long without your touch, the brush of your lips, the scent of your hair, the feel of your pussy.

He throbbed with want for you. 

Rising from his coffin, his talons fell. Piercing two holes in the side of his meal’s neck, Miguel made sure to drink his fill until it was cold and listless. His fangs, his fangs he would keep for you. 

It was funny how it started. He had run into you while on a hunt. Well, you hadn’t noticed of course. You had been on a date, smelling of want and looking like sin in red. He wasn’t worthy of you. But that man touched you and lips had planted on your skin – he was lucky Miguel hadn’t killed him right then and there. He had been too caught up in you. Looking at you. Seeing you. Flesh and fire before him. The curls of your hair, the flare of your hips, the drag of your voice and the thrill of your laughter.

That man did not deserve any of that.

All of that belonged to him. 

In the computer age, everything lay at his fingertips. He found you with ease. Found where you lived. Who you were now. Everything that the web of connections could provide. He knew what books you read, what songs you liked, your favourite bands and flower. 

He also knew you needed him. You were twenty-five and unemployed, living with your parents and your art wasn’t selling as you’d liked. How that desperation clung to you, how that desperation made you sweet to him. 

A gurgling sound distracted him. 

Sneering, he looked at his feet to see the meal had not totally died. Rolling his eyes, he tore the heart out of its chest and sucked the remaining blood. He cursed. 

Now he’d have to shower before seeing you. What a nuisance.

After cleaning off the blood, he watched the surveillance footage of Lyla giving you the door and waited until she’d left you alone like he’d asked to find you. He didn’t want an interloper. He wanted you alone to create a repertoire. 

Running his fingers through his hair, he checked his teeth in the mirror — all traces of blood were gone. His talons were retracted, fangs disappeared but his eyes were still red from feeding. Would that freak you? He didn’t want to change it.

Tapping his smartwatch, he ordered Lyla to bring him a pair of contacts. 

“Why? Won’t it just dissolve in a few hours?” 

“Because I said so.”

“Well, now I’m not gonna bring them on principle.”

Miguel snapped. “Lyla…please bring the goddamn contacts.”

“They’re already in your room, fearless creator. Vanity drawer to the left.”

Miguel switched the watch off. Carefully, he placed the contacts onto his eyes. They stung a little but he only needed it for a few hours. They would be long dissolved and by then his eyes would return to their true brown. 

You were beautiful in the kitchen. Hair tied up in a bun ontop of your head. Messy curls sweep to your forehead. Lips, pinked and plumb moving as you chewed. You seemed to try to make yourself seem smaller. Crouching over the plate of chicken salad Lyla had prepared for you. She couldn’t cook – his golem, but she tried. They had so few human guests these days after all.

Miguel cleared his throat, making you jolt and stare at him with big eyes. Your lashes fluttered, and you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and stood. “Oh, hello! You must be Mr. O’Hara.”

Your offered hand hung for a moment. He eyed it. Bare, delicate, your nails sharpened to a humanly acceptable point. He realised he’d been staring for longer than necessary and took it, glad he fed so his body warm. Your hand slipped in with ease. He gripped it and shook it, saying your name. “Call me Miguel. It’s nice to meet you. Lyla gave you the grounds tour?”

“Oh...no, she, uh, showed me the house and my quarters but not the grounds.” You titled your head, looking out the window. “I figured it was too dark out, no?”

Excellent. “We have very good lights. If you’re finished eating, I can give you the tour myself.”

“Yes! Definitely.” So eager. How promising.

***

Mr. O’Hara – no, Miguel, led you out by placing a hand on the small of your back. It was large and spanning and brushed against the rise of your ass before it fell to his side again and he resumed a respectable distance. He smelt of sandalwood and citrus. An oud wafted from him. This immaculately dressed older man with lines on his face creating dimension. He couldn’t be much older than you, but everything about him seemed grown whereas you seemed like a child playing dress up in adulthood. 

The grounds were massive. Three acres he’d said. There was a small rose garden that led out to a private lake. A family mausoleum that made you shutter when you passed it. Arched trees bent over the manicured green. The entire place was immaculate. 

What on earth did they need you for?

“Did the pass caretaker retire?”

Miguel shook his head. A small fence came into view. You saw dried-up shrubs and trees, barren spots and a small shed. “She passed.”

“My condolences,” you whispered softly, fingers brushing along his arm to comfort him briefly. “What is this?”

“It used to be a greenhouse.”

There was nothing green about the space. Clearing your throat, you let Miguel guide you back to the house. It was late now. You grew tired. So, very tired. “You have a beautiful home.”

“Thank you.” His eyes peered curiously at her. She swore they flashed red but that may have been her weariness showing. “I hope you can be comfortable here.”

His gaze was intense. You found it difficult to look away – it caused a dizzying effect on you. Turning away, Miguel and you went back into the house and he escorted you to your quarters. “Thank you for this opportunity. I’m really excited to dig in.”

He smiled – all white teeth. “No. I’m pleased to have you here. You have no idea how much.”

When you finally closed your door you let out a slight squeal of excitement. Biting your lower lip, you traced your fingers along the door. You had not expected Mr. O’Hara to look like that. Sure, he was certainly a mature man. The lines on his face told you that he was at least mid-thirties and the way he carried himself like a grown man would. 

God. You didn’t know how you were going to make it out working with such a specimen. You could barely keep it together on the walk! Running your hand over your hair, you went to your laptop bag and pulled the small notebook out. You googled your new boss, disappointed to find nothing much. There was one link that had his name, a record from an archive three hundred years ago. When you clicked it, it bounced back. 

Frustrated, you closed it and decided to just go to bed. 

Weeks passed by, and a monolith of activity passed. You devoted your all to the house but particularly the greenhouse at the back of the property beside the lake. It became a passion project of yours. Lyla and Ben were helpful of course – they made sure that you got all the aid and materials you needed to realise your vision. 

You became closer to the other members of the house. Lyla was kind and a good guide for you. Miguel was something.

It was not that you had an extensive working history but you were quite sure the interest he seemed to pay to you and your tasks were a little extra attention. In some regard, it unnerved you. But in another, you liked the praise and appreciation you received for every task completed. You also didn’t mind being in close proximity to him. There was no denying that Miguel had become a crush of yours and the star of your private fantasies.

Look at him. All harsh angles and sharpness, but his actions, his words were rose petal soft. God. He was a delicious man.

Another thing that struck you as strange was the utter loneliness of the house when the sun was up. When they had called themselves nocturnal creatures, you had merely thought it meant that they slept very late or worked very late in the evening. You were wrong though – they were completely gone during the day. In the afternoons they rose, bright and colourful as your energy dwindled down. 

“Techies,” Lyla had explained. “We work best at night – what can we say!”

It felt like bullshit but the pay was too good for you to make it your business. By the beginning of your third month, you know the place like the back of your hand. Well – most of it but for the wing Lyla had warned you against. One particularly slow day temptation had gotten the better of you. Could your curiosity be blamed for your next act? You crept into the area, floorboard creaking as you looked. It was not a different hallway than the others. 

A painting sat at the edge – but it was too poorly lit for you to see from your end. Squinting, you walked closer. The painting held a tear. It was a woman no doubt, soft-featured but you only saw up to her lower lip on which sat a mole. Something pulled at you. 

You stretched forward, fingertips brushing the dried oil and hanging paper. Pushing it up to see the face, your breathe hitched at the sight. 

The hairs at the back of your neck stood up and your stomach turned. You ran back to the other half of the house, heart speeding in your chest to jump through your ribs. You closed your door – the feeling of your skin getting ready to crawl off your body not leaving. You rubbed your ribs beneath your bosom. 

Everything about that had felt wrong. 

Since you began working here – you hadn’t taken a weekend off. Packing your bag hurriedly, you made a call to your mother, placing her on speaker. It rang for only a few moments.

“Hello, little stranger.”

“Mom – I, I need to come home.”

The panic in your voice set her voice on edge. “Baby? Is everything alright at your job?”

“I just got a bad feeling, Mom. I just need to come home.”

“Okay. Call an Uber.” Logic was your mother’s failsafe in times of duress. 

You shook your head. Ubers didn’t get this far out. You would have to walk a mile into the town to order one or call a taxi. “No. They won’t come here. I’ll head to town and catch something.”

“Call me when you’re there. Okay?” Your mother cautioned. 

“Okay...I will.”

Packing your things took longer than anticipated. You looked at your watch – it was almost five. It usually got dark around six. Shouldering your haversack and duffel bag, you snuck out of the estate and made your walk down the winding road to the town. 

Your bags felt heavy and the road took forever. Eventually, you found a bus stop. It was just about twilight now. The blue sky became a warm orange. Warm day dying into a cool evening. 

You sighed, back hitting the seat of the bench. The app told you the next bus to town was coming in the next twelve minutes. You just needed one ride to the inner city and there you could easily get an Uber home. 

Closing your eyes, you felt relaxed for the first time in an hour. 

You were safe. You were going home. 

***

He knew you were missing the moment the sun had set. 

Miguel had stretched the entire expanse of the property – searching everywhere for you. All of your things were gone from your quarters. Even your dirty laundry was gone. It was still full of your scent. He dug his nose into the rumpled sheets. Lilac and Lily. His talons dug through them – he picked up notes of fear and curiosity. Fear? What had made you fearful?

Miguel went to the abandoned wing. Your scent filled the air. Had you been snooping little girl? The painting. You’d seen your first iteration from so long ago. 

“Lyla,” Miguel roared. “I want everyone on the ground looking for her. She doesn’t leave this town – do you hear me?”

“Louder than necessary but okay.”

He drove from the estate, through the town until he picked up your scent. His talons dug into the steering. Rage fuelled him like no other. Had you really thought you could leave? He thought he could be patient, be kind, and wait you out. Then you left. 

What made you think you had the right?

His journey halted. Miguel retracted his talons and exited, fangs extended as you sat leaning back on a bus bench. About half a mile ahead, he could hear the incoming sound of the bus. You would get the chance. 

“Where do you think you’re going, mi sol?”

You jumped up, eyes wide. “Miguel! How did you?”

“I can find you anywhere.” He said gruffly. “You leave without notice at all your jobs?”

“I, uh, I was just taking the weekend off.”

He clicked his tongue. “You’re lying to me. You were snooping. Come back with me.”

“I’m not going back.” You snapped. “I don’t know what’s going on in that place but it's not natural.”

Miguel grew tired but he knew he couldn’t be heavy-handed. He had to be smart about this. “You’re right. I’m sorry about that go to your family. But know on Monday you’ll still have a job and a home with us.”

You were so easy to lie to that he almost felt bad.

The bus came and he fell back, watching you leave. The bus moved slowly down the dusty road. It was a long ride back to town. He tapped his watch and made a phone call. “Lyla. I need an accident. Now.”

“Fatal or fatale?”

He sighed. “I’m not in the mood for this right now.”

“Well, she doesn’t seem to be in the mood for you either.”

“Crash the damn bus, Lyla, now.”

“Already sent something that way, bossman.”

“Ayudame dios.”

Keeping up with the bus wasn’t a problem. Through the woodlands, he could see a creation jumping through – all fur and bolts, his favourite hairy bot crashing into the bus from the front, making the driver stop immediately. The wolf sat growing, padding its way to the front sidewheels before he punctured it with his teeth tearing through. The bus leaned to its side, dipping. He watched, from his parked spot, morbidly as the great machine broke the side window, paw reaching in. He heard you scream and smelt the faint scent of your blood. 

Miguel decided it had gone too far then, chasing the creature off. 

The driver of the bus came out first, assessing the damages. You shivered, trembling as you climbed down with your bags on your shoulders. You had been crying. Salty tears rolled down your cheeks. “How long until someone gets out here.”

The driver scratched his head. “Best luck you got is to hitchhike. They’ll come get me in an hour or two. Sorry, darling.”

That was his cue. Miguel started the car and drove by slowly. It was tinted so you excitedly jumped up and down, glad to think it was a kindly stranger. As if he would leave you to be picked up by some ill-thinking stranger.

He stopped, rolling the windows down. “Need a ride?”

You looked stiff with fear. The driver, however, beamed at him. “Oh, sure young man. This lady is heading into town. Think you can give her a ride?”

“Sure I can.” He unlocked the door, pushing it open. Miguel smiled at her, showing his sharp teeth. “Get in.”

Nodding, you hurriedly got into the vehicle. Your curly hair fell to your face as glossy eyes watched him. Miguel turned the radio on and a storm warning came out. 

“What are you?”

“Let’s get back to the estate and then I can explain.” Miguel made a sharp U-Turn and drove past the wreckage, racing back to the property. 

He could smell your fear, the hint of your blood, he looked down seeing a little blood blooming beneath your white dress. It formed a little cloud. He hissed, he hadn’t meant for you to get hurt. “Are you in pain?”

You kissed your teeth instead of responding to him. He sighed. He had expected that – you always, without fail, had a bad attitude when he fucked up. Miguel cursed himself, he should have removed that painting. Why hadn’t he thought clearly? “I didn’t want it to come to this – if you had just let me explain.”

“What is there to explain?”

The estate was coming into view now. Rising like a terrible moon on the horizon.

“It wasn’t you in the painting.” He clarified. “Well, not you. A version of you.”

He punched the code in, the gates opening as he drove up and slamming shut behind the two of you. “That doesn’t make any sense, Miguel.”

You clutched your bags, walking ahead of him as you entered the house. You set them down and Miguel smelt your blood more. “Let me fix you up. Please.”

You flinched but allowed him to lead you to the other side of the house into the very wing that had made you run. Miguel tucked his hands into his pockets. Watching you carefully step ahead. He tried hard not to look at your ass, the switch and sway of the hefty cheeks but he tried to keep his mind on task and out of the gutter.

Which was hard since you looked and smelt like you.

“Are you human?”

“No.”

You gasped, wrapping your arms around you. “Okay.”

Miguel could positively hear your mind working. You turned to look at him, eyes narrowed as if to find the answer in his face. Miguel decided to make it easy on you. He opened his mouth, fangs dropped. 

“Shit!”

“Shit.”

A familiar door came up. His hand settled on your waist, stopping you from going further. He felt you shiver under his touch. The faint scent of your arousal wafting upward. His gums shivered. 

“C’mon,” his voice was gruff. “It's right through here.”

It had been decades since Miguel had let anyone but Lyla in. Having you here – where he slept, fed, and worked as a sort of rawness he had missed. He had missed you. Miguel had learned to love this new version of you, you sang as you worked along the house. Danced to pop songs and cooked in the early mornings before the sun rose. 

“Sit here.” he directed you to a chaise lounge, eyes gazing back. “Take the dress off.”

Your lips quivered with a mounting argument but common sense seemed to reign for a moment as you slipped it off. Just watching you made him harden. The black cups of your bra barely keep the fat of your tits in, through the thin lace, he could see the puckered areolas of your breasts. The high waist of your thong dug into the subtle curve of your hourglass figure.

Merida. 

Miguel set the tools down on the bed and cleaned the wound. It wasn’t too deep, just a flesh wound that didn’t need stitches. He brought his thumb to his fang and nicked the skin, pressing the open hole to your wound he smeared it with blood. 

“Jesus Christ…that’s a health code violation.”

He snorted, leaning forward and licking it clean. After his saliva had wiped it off, not even a cut remained. “All better, mi sol.”

“What does that mean?”

“My sn.” he translated. “You’re my sun. Always have been.”

“So you’re a vampire.”

“I’m a vampire.”

You hummed. “And the woman who looks like me in the painting?”

“My wife when I was human.”

“Ah.”

“And I’m a version of her?”

“One of many.”

“Did you kill them?”

“God no.” The idea made his skin burn. “I could never, never hurt you.”

“But you’re a vampire, Miguel. What kind of promise is that?”

“Every time you’ve been in my reach, I loved you until you left me. Until old age took you or until sickness took you.”

Miguel fell to his knees resting his head on your lap. Your face read on incredulity but the fear had vanished from your scent. Curiosity with hints of want. 

“I’m going back to my room.” You stated, picking up your bloodied dress. “And tomorrow night, we’ll talk.”

“Okay.”

***

You couldn’t sleep. When you got back to your room, you shower and change. Texting your mom to know you’re alright. You try to listen to music. To watch a movie. To read but nothing gets you sleep. 

Perhaps it's simply a side-effect of finding out your work for vampires. 

Rain began to pour outside, it was a soothing sound – you blushed as another thought came to mind. There was another way to get you to sleep. Opening your door, you peek outside, making sure the hallway was clear.

Closing your door, you twist the look and step out of your nightshirt and slide your panties off your hips. Digging into one of your bags, tucked at the very bottom was your prize. The blue vibrator stuck out to you. Catching your lower lip with your teeth, you sat at the edge of your bed. Raising one leg and keeping the other down, your legs were spread. 

Your thumb rose the speed to your usual one as you teased your clitoris with it. Eyes closed, you imagined a familiar scenario. Your back against a wall, legs hooked by a faceless strong man. He would take his time with you first. Fucking a thick cock in and out of your wet cunt. 

Your head fell back, as the man in your imagination sped up, fucking you harder. Back hitting the wall. As your height came – you murmured a name and a face appeared in your imagination. 

“Miguel.”

Your climax was instant, spraying wetness onto the edge of the bed, a few droplets dampening the carpet. You set the vibrator aside, collapsing onto the bed. Hands roamed up and down the length of your body, and you vibrated with desire – Miguel’s hands would be bigger than yours, rubbing along your figure, grabbing and biting. He would want you. He would let it be known how much he needed you. 

Your fingers went back to your pussy, rubbing the sticky substance about before slipping a finger in. His fingers would spread you better. Fuck you better. You were sure. 

“You look delicious, mi sol.”

Eyes flickered open – Miguel stood at your door with glowing red eyes and mouth parted in hunger as he stared. His hair was not gelled as usual, falling curls making him look dishevelled. Shamelessly, you added a second finger. The wet sounds grew louder. In the quickness of a blink, he appeared in front of you. He squatted in front of your pussy – inches from your furious fingering.

“That’s it, baby. Make yourself come.”

You snapped like a whip. Miguel growled before you, eyes never leaving your wanton form. “Tell me I can touch you.”

“You can touch me.” you whimpered.

He sighed, a hand resting on the mound of your pussy. His thumb stroked your clit. “Tell me I can kiss you, mi cara.”

“Kiss me.”

Miguel’s lips planted themselves on the folds of your pussy. He kissed and sucked, tonguing the insides of you while he strummed your clit. He took his time. Savouring the flavours of your pussy, moaning as he ate and tasted every crevice of you. 

Your fingers threaded his curly hair, gripping them as you ground against his face. His lips sucked on your clit, his hand moving from your mound to your thigh to keep your legs open while two of his thick fingers sawed into you. 

Messily, you sprayed his face, hips moving maddeningly against his pretty face. Miguel sucked it down, licking and nipping at your trembling centre. When he rose, his face was shiny and he grinned down at you. 

“Say you want this.”

How could you not? “I need this.”

You watched with earnestness as he pulled his pants down, slipping them off. His T-shirt went next. His body was better than you had imagined. The bounce of his thick cock. Begging to be made shiny with your pussy.

“Spread yourself for me, baby. Let me see this pretty little pussy.”

Your fingers spread yourself, you watched as he stroked himself, coating the large member with pre-cum. He bowed his head, spitting on your wet cunt. Miguel’s thumb rubbed the saliva in, using two of his fingers to open the weeping carven. Slowly he entered you – his thickness making you gasp. 

Your hands gripped his shoulders, moaning as he bottomed out. You whimpered, groaning as he started to move. Your legs wrapped around him, nails digging into his shoulders. 

“You’re doing so good, mi sol. Taking my cock so deep.”

His hips snapped, taking his time as you grew used to him. Miguel was certainly bigger than any toy you owned. His cock dragged along you like he was making sure you took him so deep you didn’t know where you ended and he began. 

“Such a good girl. Mi vida. Mi luz.” His hand went to your throat, squeezing it slowly as his eyes stayed on your face. Memorising every O your lips made. It was disconcerting. But when his hips sped up, shaking the bed and making you mewl – you couldn’t care less. 

Miguel’s head bowed, lips to your neck as he kissed his way down to your breasts. You felt his teeth graze the soft flesh of your breasts. He didn’t have to say what he wanted. You wanted it too, you could feel the tremble of your upcoming orgasm. 

“Do it.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. Teeth sinking into the flesh and sucking. You creamed his cock, shouting obscenities as your orgasm shuddered through your entire body. Stars dotted your eyes, your toes curled and your bite your tongue so hard it bled.

Miguel’s hips went faster, hips snapping hard into you that it pained you ever so slightly. His cock twitched with an especially vicious plunge, painting your walls with his cum. Fangs retracting, Miguel licked your nipple, lips kissing it as he held you close. 

The high of it all slowly died down. You felt the thickness of his cock and the fullness of his seed. Your fingers traced along his arm. “I’m guessing you’ve been hearing me most nights for the past three months.”

He kissed your sternum and then your lips. It was a passionate kiss. And you realised – your first kiss. How backwards the two of you had done everything. How unjust – because it seemed Miguel was a damned good kisser.

 “And every night I touched myself to your sound.”

Your pussy clenched around him at the thought. Miguel smirked. “Aren’t you sore?”

“I’ll worry about that later.”

“As you wish.”

***

“So you’re sure everything is alright now?”

You rolled your eyes, reassuring your mother for the fifth today. It had been a solid week since you’d left and returned. Your mother still didn’t believe it was totally consensually – despite the fact that you had invited her and she’d come and see that you were totally alive and well. 

“You can’t blame your mother for worrying.”

“I know.” Your eyes flickered outside the greenhouse. It was night now. The other members of the house would be up soon. Your mother and you finished talking soon after. It seemed like on cue as you finished the call Miguel came into the greenhouse. Pulling off your muddy gloves, you smiled at him. At your side in and second he kissed your forehead and set his hands around your waist. 

“Hello, mi luz.”

“Hi, baby.” You kissed his mouth. “Did you feed yet?”

He hummed a confirmation, caging you against the desk. Miguel picked up a seed packing, explaining it. “Hibiscus? I don’t think those grew here.”

“Well, they’re not native,” you said. Slipping out from him, you dragged him down to his knees to see a box of soil you’d been working on. “But I’m sure I’ve got the soil mixture down. In the next few months, we’ll see how it goes.”

His hand rubbed along the side of your body. “That’s incredible, baby.”

Standing up, you looked down at him and blushed. “Well, its no machine wolf.”

“Mhmm.” His hands held your hips, squeezing the globes of your ass cheeks. He smacked the fat, groping it unashamedly. His nose pressed to your groin. “You’re an incredible woman. I hope you remember that.”

“Kiss up.”

His eyes flashed, and his lips spread to a mischievous grin. Miguel fell back onto the ground of the greenhouse. You smirked setting legs on either side of your hips. You unbuckled his pants and took his member out. You stroked it, spitting on the tip of it, before rubbing up and down. His hand raised your skirt up, a talon stretching out and cutting the side of your panty off. He pulled it off, baring your pussy against the rough material of your jeans. 

Hips raised, Miguel pulled you onto his cock, grinning as you whimpered at the sudden intrusion of his thickness. Your hands pressed to his hard chest, crying as he fucked up into you. 

Yes, you thought, eyes rolling back, everything was more than alright.

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