#thank you for the request and im so truly sorry it took so long!!

[waterfallofspace]

could i maybe request 32,47 and 52 for vash? 👉👈 (ft his bf wolfwood)

side note i love all the trigun and jjk fics you've been putting out and the buddy daddies fic,,, omfg i Love them sm

Aha- yes you can non, and I'm so sorry for the wait!! (Honestly I'm not even sure if you'll still be around, so I'm really really sorry if you're not~ But thank you so much for the praise, and the request~)

1.8k words, prompts 32, 46, and 52, story under cut!

32. “Are you sick?” 47. Hiding sneezes  52. “Did you just sneeze?”

~~~~~~~

There are moments that Wolfwood would swear Vash is born of the suns.

A muffled thud pulls Wolfwood from his coffee induced trance. Stumbling into the kitchen, Vash appears to have walked straight into a wall. Eyes half closed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, the only response to this abrupt chance of pace is a yawn. 

“Mornin’,” Wolfwood laughs, the greeting nearly knocking Vash off his feet. As the messy hair tilts in his direction, he notes the sweater hanging around Vash’s shoulders. “Ain’t that mine?” 

It’s a rhetorical question, and they both know it. Wolfwood acquired said hoodie a few months back after some particularly intoxicated gentleman tried to purchase his jacket with it. The refusal was met with some slurred ‘k’p it an’way’ from the form stumbling out of the bar. 

The sweater was much too loose on Wolfwood, the gifter having stood at least two heads taller. Still, Wolfwood was never one to toss out something of possible use, so the hoodie found itself stashed in some corner of a motel closet. It wasn’t until a chance encounter left Wolfwood staying in the same room a few years later that the sweater made its reappearance. 

“Hey Nico, someone left a jacket in here!” 

“Hm? Oh. Forgot about that.” 

“Wait, this was yours? I didn’t know you’d been here before!” 

“I’ve been ‘lot of places, blondie.” 

The second he’d put it on, Vash’s entire face had lit up. The sleeves hung far past his hands, flapping at each movement. He spent the next couple hours just waving them around, convulsing with a laughter that left even Wolfwood smirking. It quickly became his nightshirt, though he’d normally be changed out of it by now. 

“Makin’ a fashion statement today, are we?” Pulling his mind back to the present, Wolfwood catches up with his mouth, gesturing to the outfit. 

Vash seemingly attempts a response. Instead, he only succeeds in a strangled noise that leaves them both wincing. With a light cough into his sleeve, he clears his throat and tries again. “Morning! Sorry about that.” 

Raising an eyebrow, the silence echoes through the room. Wolfwood’s learned by now that commenting on the apology only leads to a never ending loop of ‘quit ‘pologizing’ followed by Vash’s instinctual apologies for apologizing. 

“Want some?” Wolfwood offers instead,gesturing to the coffee leaving trails of steam drifting through the chilled morning air. The response is a chuckle, Vash shaking his head in time with his sleeves. 

There’s a slight shake in his legs, accompanied by his fingers fidgeting through the holes in his sleeves. Once he picks up on this, Wolfwood’s eyes soften. Yeah, definitely not a coffee day. Vash can handle it occasionally, but if he’s feeling heightened anxiety already, caffeine tends to leave him jumpy.

 It’s been a good week. Relatively calm, no angry mobs chasing him out of town. Hardly surprising he woke up anxious. Seems the universe can never cut the poor guy a break. If he has even a moment of peace, something has to come along to ruin it. 

Wolfwood reaches up, lazily grabbing Vash’s hand and begins to rub soft circles against his palm. Vash gives him a soft smile in return, sinking into the chair closest to his and pouring out a serving of juice. 

He’s barely taken a sip before a far off look consumes his eyes. Wolfwood squeezes his hand. Not a word spoken, but a question asked. Vash answers in the form of a hum, laying his arms on the table and resting his forehead against them. 

“Gon’ suffocate like that, needle noggin,” Wolfwood says, noticing Vash’s shoulders shake lightly. Laughter? Didn’t think it was that funny. After a moment Vash emerges, mist lining his eyes. Okay it can’t have been that funny. Maybe… crying? 

“Y’alright?” Despite the rough grammar, his tone is soft. Gentle in a way the blue-eyed dipshit just seems to pull out of him. Despite countless attempts to maintain just a touch of his previously rough exterior. 

Vash shakes his head, which Wolfwood takes to mean no. Before he can ask any further questions, he realizes he misinterpreted the action. Vash’s eyes remain hazy, his metal arm raising to meet his face as he flinches against the back of it. 

“tnsshiew-!” 

“Blessin’,” Wolfwood pauses, analyzing the man sitting in front of him. There’s a pinch to Vash’s brows, his teeth beginning to show as gasps fall from his lips. The light reflecting from drops hanging off his lashes matches the metallic sheen coating his hand. “More?” 

“Y- yeah…” Vash manages to choke out. One breath, two, and he ducks again, this time his voice crackling through the pitchy sounds. “in’kasshhiew-! hh’akkshihiew-!” 

“Another blessin’.” 

“Thanks,” Vash smiles, raising his other hand to swipe away some stray drops migrating down his cheeks. After a breath he pipes up again with a “Sorry-” before seeming to catch himself, and trailing off into a light cough. His knee brushes against Wolfwood’s as it resumes its trembling, dipping in rapid succession as the table shakes. 

Wolfwood reaches down, placing his hand against Vash’s leg. Meeting his gaze, the tone used is lower. “You okay? If somethin’s the matter, you know you can tell me.” 

Blushing under the scrutiny, Vash lets a sniff escape before verbalizing his response. “Yeah, sorry, I’m alright.”

“If you’re sure.”

“Yeah, definitely,” Vash nods enthusiastically, though Wolfwood clocks the way he flinches at the movement. “I’m gonna sit on the couch, put a little music on, you wanna join?” 

Pressing a kiss against Vash’s temple, Wolfwood stands, heading towards the sink to rinse his mug. Not waiting for a more solid answer, Vash heads off towards the radio with a touch more speed then he should have this early. 

A sweet melody begins to swirl through the air, followed by a muffled sound Wolfwood can’t quite make out. Electing to ignore it, he hums along with the rising beats, settling into the couch next to Vash. A few words slipping out as the song begins to slow again, he raises his arm so Vash can settle against his chest. 

The singing soon fades away, a light instrumental taking its place. Wolfwood feels his eyes begin to shut, starting to drift off. The light in the room dulls as a few clouds cover the suns, everything bathed in a peaceful haze. 

A sudden jerk snaps the room back into focus. 

“What w’s that?” 

“Sorry,” Vash shrugs, snuggling deeper into Wolfwood’s chest. “Arm fell asleep.”

“Oh, s’all?” Clearing the sleep from his voice, Wolfwood lets his chin rest against Vash’s hair, breathing in the floral notes. As the rise and fall of his chest leaves them both slightly rocking, Wolfwood lets his eyes shut again. Still, a nagging suspicion keeps his consciousness focused on the form in his arms. 

Sure enough the shudder comes again, this time with an audible “engnkt-!” 

Gazing down, Wolfwood leans back to get a clearer view of Vash’s face. “Did you just sneeze?” 

Vash’s eyes are cloudy, his fingers still pinched round his nose. “S- sorry… I’b dot… dot fidished…. hH’ingkt-!” 

Letting his lips meet Vash’s forehead, Wolfwood whistles. The warmth is low enough that it was easily missed earlier. Combined with the shivers bounding through the frail form huddling in his arms, the fever is obvious. 

“Let ‘em out, blondie. Can’t have you blowin’ a fuse on me.” 

There’s no reply, but considering the panting, it’s not for lack of desire. Wolfwood feels his heart skip a beat as Vash’s canines peek out from between his lips. It’s not unusual for his teeth to show in a smile, but Vash isn’t the type to snarl, so watching them get bared is a rare pleasure. Dropping his fingers, Vash aims for cupped hands, spinning himself towards the couch.

“hh’kNZSHhuh-! hk’PTZSHh-! ARKSHh’oo-!” 

“Bless,” Wolfwood chuckles, the harshness never failing to get a jump outta him. They’ve never seemed fond of being held back, reaching a vocal quality the timid man producing them seems utterly incapable of. 

“Thagks.” 

“Are you sick, or is somethin’ settin’ you off?” Brushing loose strands from Vash’s forehead, the heat seems to have rapidly increased. “You feel a bit warm.” 

“It’s not-” Whatever denial Vash was attempting to produce fades away as his voice breaks, leaving him descending into a rough cough. He begins to lean away, attempting to aim himself towards the floor instead. A squeak breaks free as he slides towards the edge of the couch, only being saved as Wolfwood grabs his arm. 

“Vash.” 

The coughs halt immediately at the name, Vash’s head swinging around to face Wolfwood. The look that he gives could melt anyone, okay? It’s not a him problem, no one could resist those puppy-dog eyes. No one. 

“You sick?” 

With a faint nod, Vash sniffles again. His eyes begin to swim, lip quivering with what seems to be only half irritation. He knuckles his nose, a light huff slipping out. It’s obvious it wasn’t aimed at anyone but himself. 

“That’s not a crime, blondie,” Wolfwood pauses to cup Vash’s cheek, thumbing away a stray tear. “ I’m not gon’ be mad at you for gettin’ ill.” 

“B- but… if I get you sick, I’ll be mad at myself.”

Wolfwood chuckles, a smirk breaking loose as the corner of Vash’s mouth twitch up. He’s never been able to hear someone else’s laughter without joining in. “I won’t let you. Jus’ means you’ll get a chance to take care of me back.”

 “Back?” Vash pipes up, tilting his head in one of his many acts of pure innocence. Ironic, given all he’s capable of. Ever the walking contradiction. 

“Yup. Starting right now, you’re under my care.” Wolfwood grins, starting to sit up. Vash feigns a shudder, earning himself a light slap upside the head. Still, Wolfwood doesn’t miss the way his leg is bouncing again. 

“Vash.” 

Those eyes turn to look at him again.

“I love you.” 

Vash pales, the rose stain against his cheeks blooming up to his ears. It doesn’t matter how many times it’s said, blondie always reacts as if it’s a revelation. “I love you too, Nicholas.” 

Wolfwood slides onto the floor, standing up and pulling Vash close in one graceful movement. Suddenly playful, he lets his lips brush against Vash’s ear. “That’s my shirt, ya know.” 

Vash hums, leg going still. “Need to take it off me?” 

Wolfwood grins, lips greedily meeting Vash’s. He sighs against the feeling, the world dissolving away as the two draw closer until even they can’t tell where one ends and another begins. 

Finally Vash pulls away to direct a “knshhiew-!” into his collar. 

Catching his breath, Wolfwood addresses the earlier question. “For now, you can keep it. At least until you’re better. In case you need some motivation.” 

The laughter that follows pulls the air straight from Wolfwood’s lungs. 

There are moments that Wolfwood would swear Vash is born of the suns. 

[goldsainz]

TOUCH IT — one shot.

pairing: lewis hamilton x reader

MASTERLIST.

taglist: @lorarri @lpab @noncannonships @lunnnix @elliegrey2803 @schumacheer @saintslewis @leoramage @ellswilliams @toomuchdelusion @anthonykatebridgerton @enhacolor @gulabjamoon @woweewoowa @forza55 @ihrtdan @ravisinghs-wife @messycigarette @hobiismyhopeu

request: “it's a lewis hamilton + "touch it" by ariana grande 🥹”

NOTE: this song is amazing! had the best time listening to it while writing this. i hope i did this idea justice, im pretty content with how this turned out. sorry for how i long it took me to get to this 🫶 (also this won’t get a second part)

liked by lewishamilton, roscoelovescoco and 3,084,517 others

yourusername with the bestest boy

view all 46,278 comments

ynfan1 you can’t just post this while we’re all scrambling to see if you’re single or not😭

tchalamet he’s got better drip than you.

⤷ yourusername he’s richer than you. how about that.

⤷ tchalamet okay now.

ynfan2 oh she is slaying even while going through a break up… cunty behaviour all around

lewisfan1 ARE YOU AND DAD STILL TOGETHER OR NOT??

ynfan3 roscoe is a child of divorce💔

lewisfan2 lewis liking from his account AND roscoe’s account… this man is not serious

⤷ ynfan4 need a man who’s obsessed with me like this

ynfan5 her being a dog mum is everything to me

lewisfan3 can’t believe lewis fumbled this hard

ynfan6 so y/n gets visitation for roscoe??

⤷ ynfan7 roscoe would throw a fit if he didn’t get to see her that’s his mum fr

yourusername posted an instagram story!

liked by georgerussell63, niallhoran and 2,397,605 others

lewishamilton Living without you is not truly living.

view all 35,964 comments

yourusername never being without you again 🤍

⤷ lewishamilton A month without you felt like a year.

⤷ ynfan21 A MONTH?! WDYM A MONTH?!?!

lewisfan21 mama y papa

lewisfan22 their break hit harder than my parents divorce

roscoelovescoco Thank you’s for bringing’s mum’s back

liked by yourusername, lewishamilton and 372,018 others

ynfan21 thank you for the y/n pics kind sir🙏

lewisfan23 these two are my roman empire

lewisfan24 the most iconic couple iktr

ynfan22 THE SECOND PIC😭

sebastianvettel After all the pining I had to hear from you both, you better get married!

⤷ lewishamilton Working on it.

⤷ yourusername I’m sorry… WHAT?

⤷ mickschumacher I claim being the flower boy

⤷ landonorris Y/N likes me more.

⤷ yourusername debatable

⤷ landonorris WOW.

⤷ lewishamilton …I haven’t even proposed yet.

⤷ sebastianvettel We’re all waiting for you😊

[ohdeerfully]

hi! I have a request, I've never really done this before but I'll give it a shot. so my request is that Charlie is tasked by heaven to watch over a very special human soul via a device that is like a full 360 VR kind of setup and this soul just so happens to be Alastor's immortal wife (he didn't know she was) whom he thought had died with him during a bad event and wound up in heaven but she didn't and She stayed the same since the 1930s like her looks stayed the same and her love for Alastor stayed too she never once tried to move on even when her new friends in this time tried to get her a guy but she just refused still wearing the wedding ring her gave her

I hope it's not too much to ask it can be changed to whatever you see if you have full creative control over it!

thank you for your brain anon

theres a couple awkward POV shifts in the story and im super duper sorry about that D: im not good at those

An Eternity

alastor x reader (angst) TW: reader is female, reader gets a lil drunk and drives but shes fine(i do not condone this pls dont drink and drive im so serious), yearning goes ouchie ):

join my discord!

◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈

Alastor rarely, if ever, talked about his time alive. He saw it pointless; a waste of time and energy. How could it benefit him if somebody else knew his history? If anything, it would only open up weak points. And, being an Overlord, he couldn’t afford that.

The only hint of his past was a band on his finger that he never took off. Even after decades in Hell, nobody saw him without it.

People often asked, of course, because how in the Hell did the Radio Demon get hitched? Even in life, he was probably just as unusual and off putting. These questions were always met with a dismissive wave and a laugh, but anybody who knew him—which wasn’t many, truly—would recognize the strain in his voice as he brushed them off. Whatever the story was seemed to only grow more painful with time.

He was deep in thought, humming absently as he trailed through the hotel. He ended up meandering by Charlie’s room, which was cracked open. He took this as an invitation to let himself in, cheerfully grinning as he saw the girl sitting on the edge of her bed looking extremely confused.

“Hello, dear!” He announced himself, standing up straight and fixing his bowtie with one hand. “What does this afternoon have in store for the Princess of Hell?”

“Heyy, Al,” Charlie responded, still frowning at the contraption in her hand. It was a rather bulky thing; an unappealing piece of new technology, Alastor decided. Still, he loomed from behind Charlie with a curious bend in his neck. Her shoulders were stiff, and he couldn’t tell if it was from frustration with the thing in her hand or discomfort at him watching her. 

“What is that peculiar thing?” He finally asked, since Charlie made no attempt at explanation. She seemed too focused to really pay him any mind.

“Something Heaven gave me to watch some curious soul they can’t control,” She murmured, fiddling with a couple buttons and knobs. “They’ve got me doing some ridiculous things. I mean, some human soul shouldn’t even concern me. But, they promise these favors will help with my hotel.”

Alastor hummed in response. He of all demons would recognize a manipulation tactic when he saw one—convincing a powerful demon princess to do your chores and promising to help her desperate project in return seemed like something the angels would do. He didn’t care one way or another, as long as Charlie’s naivete didn’t get in the way of his own goals.

He took a few steps back when Charlie stood, seemingly finished with setting up the box. He grinned, amused, when she pulled it over her head. It wasn’t the most flattering thing, and pretty bulky on her face. She looked ridiculous, honestly.

“Modern technology,” He sighed dramatically, leaning down onto his cane as he continued to observe her. “Only getting uglier.”

Charlie didn’t respond to his comment, looking around at what Alastor saw as nothing. She played around with the settings again, and adjusted the straps on her head again, before looking around again. She let out a successful sounding “hell yes” before pulling a remote of sorts from her pocket. She pushed on a joystick.

“What are you doing?” Alastor asked plainly, the building curiosity finally becoming too much. “Why do you have a box on your head?”

“It’s like…” She began to explain, trying to think of how to make sense of it to him. “Like… imagine you were looking through the eyes of somebody else, but still standing in the same spot..?” Her voice tilted at the end, unsure of her explanation.

Yeah, no, Alastor had no clue. But he dismissed it as unnecessary, as he often did with any technology he couldn’t understand.

“I’m seeing… Earth, I guess,” Charlie explained more. “Following around this girl.”

Alastor was only partially listening, humming quietly to himself as he just observed. He wondered if he should just leave—nothing interesting was happening. He was curious to see what antics Heaven was pushing on the Princess of Hell, though.

“Wanna try?” Charlie offered, lifting the headset up away from her eyes. Alastor immediately scrunched his nose up and narrowed his eyes.

“And look as ridiculous as you? Hah! No thank you,” He sat down on a chair near the wall, leaning against the back of it. He threw one leg up over the other. Charlie shrugged in response, and pulled the contraption back down.

Alastor sat for a while, absently thinking about what he wanted to do later as he waited for something to happen.

“Oh! Hold on,” Charlie suddenly said, causing Alastor’s ears to straighten to attention as she reached up and pressed a button. A holographic projection appeared out of nowhere, manifesting through some strange magic. “Forgot I could do that. This is what I’m seeing in here.” 

Alastor stood and walked closer, leaning forward on his cane as he studied the projection. It seemed like some kind of bar. He mused at how different modern bars looked from the speakeasies he would frequent during his own life.

“What heavenly task are you doing in a bar?” He joked, trying to find something interesting in the projection. It just seemed like generic bar business. Loud, flirtatious women and boisterous, over confident men. That, at least, was the same from his day.

“Like I said earlier,” Charlie explained, looking around the room. The projection seemed to follow her movement, and Alastor recognized that he was basically seeing through her eyes. How curious. “There’s some… soul they lost control of. And they want me to report to them about her.”

Alastor was very curious to see what kind of soul broke from control of literal heaven. He watched rather intently, leaned forward against his cane to watch the projection.

Charlie turned another knob, and the sound of tacky pop music and loud chatter began to emanate from the bar scene. Alastor wasn’t a fan of newer music, but he was often forced to listen anyway in the hotel lobby.

“Is it possible to turn down that dreadful noise?” He complained to her, announcing his dissatisfaction.

“No. I need to be able to hear what the woman is saying,” Charlie answered stubbornly. Alastor’s microphone of a cane began to obnoxiously play a song of his choice for a moment in retaliation, but died down after a few moments. After all, Charlie ignored his attempt at aggravation, so there was no point in keeping it up.

Charlie looked around the bar, searching. Finally, her gaze settled on a fancier booth with half drawn curtains. From her angle, she could only see a woman. She looked frustrated.

“---get out of your shell! It’s about time you start talking to some guys for once,” Charlie caught the tail end of the woman’s statement. She was gesturing wildly around, exasperation evident in the jagged movements. “I’m sick of watching you pine for somebody who’s been gone for ages.”

★

“Ten years isn’t ages, Mechiele,” You drew your finger against the table, making shapes with the rim of water that the condensation from your glass left. Nearly a hundred years, more like, You commented to yourself. You never told anybody that you were an immortal being. Nobody believed you when you did, anyway.

You sat your cheek against the palm of your hand and lifted your gaze to your friend, who looked at you with a sharp frown. You shot her a weak smile. 

“Can you just drop it?” You asked, nearly pleading. You didn’t want to cry tonight, being a little tipsy—you were an emotional drunk. You didn’t want to embarrass yourself blabbering about a dead husband.

“Come on,” Mechiele said impatiently, pushing your pleas aside. “There’s so many hot guys in here, I bet one would just love to take a piece of work like you home and-”

“Mechiele.” You hoped your tone was enough to shut her up.

You should’ve known better, honestly. Mechiele was already abrasive when she was sober, but with the amount of drinks she’s had tonight…

“No, no, no! You bum! Get your ass up right now and get out there! And take that ring off while you’re at it!”

Mechiele quickly lunged at you, a much too playful look in her eye considering how pissed you were right now. You yanked your arm away from her grasp, cupping your hand protectively with the other, shielding the golden band on your finger from her.

“Fucking drop it!” You snapped at her, standing from your seat. “I’m going home. You’re too drunk. I’ll drive.”

“You’re so fucking lame,” Mechiele droned, falling back into her seat. She wouldn’t budge when you urged her to stand and come with you. “He’s fuckin’ dead! Get a new man, already! Alastor’s not-”

Mechiele stopped abruptly when you smacked her. It wasn’t an incredibly hard smack or anything, barely enough to leave a red bloom on her cheek, but it was enough. She looked at you through narrowed eyes. You returned the same expression.

You left the booth and stormed off, cursing under your breath about it all. About Mechiele, about this stupid bar, about the tipsy feeling in your head, about Alastor—

You folded your arms together as you briskly walked to your car, yelling in frustration at your heels and ripping them off your feet. The ground was a little wet and cold, but you didn’t care. After making it to your car, you threw yourself in an switched it on.

You thought for a few moments. You were lightheaded after a few drinks, but you really didn’t want to wait for a taxi. You’d probably be fine, yeah? Sure. Against your better judgment, you began to drive.

It was a long drive, but it gave you some time to think.

You missed him. You pined for him. Nearly every night was agony, missing the presence of the only man you’ve ever fallen in love with.

You cursed whatever higher power there was for making you this way—immortal. How cruel it was, to make you live forever to suffer this longing. You didn’t even notice when you ended up in your room, but you let yourself fall face first onto your bed, curling up into a ball.

Even more, you cursed yourself for ever falling in love. You should’ve known it would only lead to an endless torture of heartbreak. You would never love anybody the same; although, you don’t think you’d want to, even if you could.

You were born to suffer. To spend an eternity in life without him.

★

Charlie continued to watch in shock for a few moments, her mouth dropped at the mention of the Radio Demon’s name. The previously hidden woman stepped from the bar, a furious look in her eyes as she stormed away. Mechiele was left with stubbornly folded arms and an empty glass of alcohol.

“Heyyy, uh, Al, how common is your name..? Do you know…” Charlie asked a bit awkwardly. She got no response. She lifted the headset, and realized he was gone. Even still, there seemed to be a lingering feeling of intense static, and the air somehow felt a bit heavier than before.

★

This had to be some cruel, sick joke, right? Heaven had to be toying with him, finally finding a way to torture his soul. His wife—she was dead. It had been nearly a hundred years since he died, and even if she had lived till she was old—

Alastor was pacing his room, ears pinned and eyes wide in frantic thought. Oh, how he yearned for her. He had managed for so long to push the memory of her away, to lock up his loss in a tight cage as he climbed the ranks of hell; it had all come rushing, barreling, torrenting back when he had seen her—or, no, somebody that looked like her—step out of those curtains. It was only a coincidence that that woman looked like his wife, and only a coincidence that she had a dead husband that shared his name.

His wife was in heaven, no doubt; which was where she belonged, of course, but Alastor had spent the last decade pining for somebody who he could never see again. If given the choice, Alastor wasn’t so sure himself if he was kind enough as to not tear her soul from Heaven and down to Hell by his side. Alternatively, even if Charlie’s idea of redemption were to work, Alastor was truly irredeemable. It was all wistful thinking, anyway.

Alastor’s claws dug into the curtains of his window, staring out into the streets of Hell in an attempt to concentrate on one steady stream of thought.

When billions of people touch the Earth, it’s only natural that coincidences like this rise. Right? He tried desperately to convince himself of different possibilities. It just made no sense.

A knocking at his door made Alastor’s grin curl in deadly malice. He really wasn’t in the mood.

He paced to his door, opened it just enough to fit his body in the frame, and glared down at Charlie. She was wringing her hands together nervously, and only seemed to grow more timid as the heavy, almost palpable ambience of his radio static filled the hallway she stood in.

“I’m busy,” Alastor said bluntly. His lips were curled in a sneer.

“I can tell,” Charlie responded. "I know you don't like talking about yourself-" She began to ramble on about him talking to her about his feelings and whatnot, but Alastor didn’t listen as he shut the door again.

Though, the interruption did give his mind a chance to slow. He sat on a chair in the corner of his room, and opted to fiddle with the radio on the drawer next to him. He tuned it—or, more just magically infused it—to play some jazz to try to keep his head level.

It would take some time to rebuild the dam that held back the memories of his wife. Even just the mere thought of her made him feel weak, and he hated it. The only soul he was capable of falling in love with—gone, forever.

Alastor never took the whole “eternity of damnation” thing seriously, considering the power he held and how comfortable he really was in Hell. However, when he remembered her—

Hell truly was torture. And he was cursed to spend his eternity in death without her.

[generalsmemories]

Ginkgo leaves

✧ jing yuan x gn!reader

✧ based on the ask: Since reqs are open, you think you could write jing yuans reaction to his lover being Mara-struck? Thank you! - requested by anonymous

✧ contents: established relationship, angst, hurt/almost no comfort lmfao, implied character death, mentions of other characters, pov mostly written in jing yuan's pov, still usage of 2nd pov (referring the reader as you), mayhaps ooc because jing yuan is an emotional wreck.

✧ a/n: when i tell ya'll i legit struggled to be able to write this entire thing. there's been like 3-4 scrapped drafts because halfway through writing i would just NOT be satisfied with the result. to the anon who requested this, i'm so sorry it took this long - but i hope the upcoming trainwreck makes up for it! a trainwreck im still not actually satisfied with LMFAO. but it's better than the other 5 scrapped works. also not beta-read so fellas if u see a spelling error - no you didn't.

p.s: some mara-struck information i give here are totally fanmade for the purpose of this fic alone, as such don't take whatever i write about mara here as what actually happens canonically to characters (then again most of the playable characters have different symptoms of mara themselves).

"Benefactor, am I correct to believe you're asking me if the general has any specific interests?" Tingyun asks with a snicker, the trailblazer looking away from her prying eyes while mumbling a quiet yes.

"Some of the younger... Can I call them younger? Anyway, some of the younger Xianzhou citizens are very infatuated with the general. Seeing as I've been announced as his honory guest, they do often come and ask me various things to try and gain his favor. So yeah, anything at this point will work - so please!" the trailblazer hurriedly explained, clasping their hands together in a desperate attempt to get anything from the foxian amicassador leaning back with a quirked eyebrow.

"Ahh, love truly makes someone go blind doesn't it," she muses out loud, the trailblazers' eyebrow furrowing together in confusion over the foxian's lady choice of words, "... You're not entirerely wrong with that statement..."

"Do you want to know what his favorite flower is?" Tingyun asks, ignoring the confused question that had been uttered to her, snapping her fan open to hide the cheeky smile that spread across her lips - but anyone could still tell that her eyes were gleaming with mischief as the trailblazer nodded their head.

"He doesn't have one."

"Then why did you even-"

"But he likes ginkgo leaves."

The trailblazers' eyes widened in shock, and rightfully so because the very thing ginkgo leaves are associated with are after all...

"He had a lover once, and as far as I'm aware, his last moment with them while they still had their consciousness intact was surrounded by ginkgo leaves."

Jing Yuan whilst having forgotten almost every single moment with you, does unfortunately remember the exact details of the day that your descent into madness started. Because what he witnessed wasn't a futile struggle you had with yourself to not to destroy everything within your vicinity. Instead, he witnessed the slow process of your bright self becoming an empty shell, only capable of uttering a few words.

It's comical really, even when faced with a curse that struck everyone mad - he found out that it oddly fit your character to not go mad, but instead become the complete opposite of your gentle self. A hollow shell of the person he fell in love with all centuries ago.

Jing Yuan knew he had to end your suffering right then and there when you first started to show signs.

But he couldn't - This wasn't something that had to be immediately dealt with, his hand wasn't forced like it was back when he had to slay his own master down before she took more lives.

No, this was a normal afternoon on what would've been another normal, mundane day in both of your lives. But everything went wrong the moment Jing Yuan heard the breaking of glass, and how there was a lone gingko leaf inside the palm of your hand - a ginkgo leaf that you were staring wide-eyed at with a trembling hand.

You were too far from the veranda to have a ginkgo leaf in your hand.

General Jing Yuan would've ended your suffering the moment you turned around to lock eyes with him, your own face twisted into one of utter fear.

General Jing Yuan would've reported you the to Ten-Lords Commissions as the law had stated. But Jing Yuan couldn't - because Jing Yuan knew that the moment he did, he would never see you again.

So he decided for once he would be selfish. Jing Yuan rarely made choices lately that was based off of his own feelings, but his time with you was cut too harshly, so once again he chooses to be selfish. Even if that meant that it would prolong your suffering just a tiny bit more. "... We can figure something out," was the only thing he could muster up the courage to say with a shaking voice. You didn't say anything, your mouth wobbling a tiny bit and your breathing getting harsher by the second.

But still you indulged him - you always did. So with an equally wobbly smile, you only nodded your head slightly, "... Sure."

That wobbly smile and expression of utter fear was the last genuine expression that truly came from yourself.

The descent to becoming fully mara-struck is usually a fast process, the curse able to completely overtake someone's mind within the same day the symptoms appears - rendering the person completely vulnerable with the only alternative to either hand themselves in to the Ten-Lords or wait for the Ten-Lords to come to them personally.

Your usual easy-going smile was gone, in its stead was eyes that kept going in and out of focus. Almost as if you were desperately trying to keep yourself grounded - a battle you both knew would end with your defeat.

Jing Yuan didn't dare to venture outside of the house. One step out and every Cloud Knight would've been on you within seconds to subdue you. He had first initially resorted to just holding you within his arms for as long as he could, to be able to remember how you felt like after your death.

But with the minimal strength you had left, you had wobbled to the garden, every step taken only making you pant heavily. But even with heavy breaths of air leaving your lips, you had refused to take Jing Yuans hand or offer to even carry you out to the garden. When you had managed to reach the ginkgo tree standing tall at the center of the garden, Jing Yuan was sure you were going to collapse in front of it, taking a quick step to catch you.

But instead you had merely reached your hands up, the falling leaves fluttering gently down onto your palms. And while you were in indescriable pain for the last couple of hours - Jing Yuan could only see a serene expression when you looked up at the ginkgo leaves that were continously falling down.

"... They're beautiful... aren't they... Jing Yuan? It's almost a pity... that these beautiful... leaves are associated with our doom," you said softly. Jing Yuan could feel his breath hitch in his throat when you uttered his name.

You're obviously struggling to convey whatever thoughts you still had to him properly, taking a moment in between words to catch your breath, eyebrows furrowed slightly as you fought against the searing pain that was spreading through every nerve in your body.

There's a sudden gust of wind which causes the pile of leaves in your hands to flutter away from your grasp. Your hand stretches out slightly, almost in an attempt to reach out for them - stumbling a bit in your step. The limp causes Jing Yuan to take a quick step forward with his arms outstretched. Perhaps seeing him in your peripheral vision causes you to stop the futile attempt to catch the escaping leaves, arms going limp against your side as you turn to face him - your once blank expression turning into a somber smile instead.

Jing Yuan thinks that it's unfair how normal you look in front of him - almost as if you haven't been becme mara-struck. Like nothing has happened to you aside from the ginkgo leaves fluttering from your lips whenever you cough. The same cough that causes the general of Luofu to flinch every time - without fail.

And perhaps you can see his inner turmoil, the way he tries to make eye contact with you, but is unable to after a few seconds. The way his hands clench too hard into fist to the point droplets of blood fall down to the grass and stains it a deep red while he bites his own lips to not say a word - lest he says something that he will regret.

And you truly wish that you could tell him everything is okay like you usually do.

But for the first time since the day he lost his friends, you can't.

"... I'm sorry," you finally say, the apology making him whip his head up to you again. Mouth opening to say something to comfort you, to tell you that it's not your fault. But the words are unable to leave his mouth when he sees your arms slightly outstretched towards him with a small smile.

And he can't hold it in anymore.

It only takes him a few wide steps to reach you from his position before he cradles you within his arms. The grip is tight, unbearably tight to the point it hurts, but you don't complain. You're limp in his hold, and if this was any day he wouldn't comment, but the fact that you're not moving a single muscle terrifies Jing Yuan to the core. "... Please," he finally manages to whisper, the rustling of ginkgo leaves around you almost drowning out his quiet plea.

"Please don't make me do this again."

He doesn't ask if the tensing of your body is caused by the pain that's rapidly increasing or if it's caused by his silent confession. He can however feel the gentle hand that rests against the lower part of his back and your head resting against the side of his own. The reassurance you try to give him does nothing to help because he's aware that it probably brought you unmeasurable pain to try to move those limbs - instead the general buries his face closer to your neck and squeezes you tighter.

"... You won't." you whisper quietly.

It takes a moment for Jing Yuan to process the meaning behind those two words.

But it's a moment too late, because before he can get his phone out to usher a command, a few resounding knocks can be heard throughout the quiet mansion.

"General Jing Yuan. This is Xueyi of the Ten-Lords commission. I've gotten information that there's currently a mara-struck within these premises."

Jing Yuan feels his blood run cold, he pulls himself away from you to stare at you properly in disbelief.

You're still staring at him with the same somber expression, however he can tell there's a small pitiful smile grazing your lips, "I'm sorry," you whisper once again.

"I asked her... personally," you start, finally letting yourself rest now that the end is near, slumping down onto Jing Yuan's chest, your ear settling itself against his heart to hear his rapid heartbeats.

Jing Yuan loathes the fact that it's at this moment, with the Ten-Lords commission outside of your door and with him completely broken do you actually look at peace - like your battle against time has finally come to its conclusion.

And naturally, the one who lost is you.

"Half a day... with you. Then she would come and bring me there. You won't have to... do this again."

You're not able to see Jing Yuan's face - and Jing Yuan wouldn't want you to see how he looked like right now. The arms around you is trembling, his mind is racing - trying to come up with anything to give him a bit more time with you.

But for once, the general that had a plan for every situation had nothing in mind.

He's lost. And the prize of the loss this time is losing you forever.

"General, I apologize for the rudeness of what I'm about to do, but this is for both of your safety," Jing Yuan hear Xueyi mutter from outside of the door, before he hears the rattling of the door frame start to slide open.

"Wait- no," it's a quiet request that gets ignored as Xueyi strides in alone, the lack of company making Jing Yuan's eyebrows furrow in confusion.

"... Their last request along with the request for my late arrival here was for the Cloud Knights to not see you like this. Naturally I won't tell anyone of what I've seen today."

Jing Yuan doesn't care about that, he could care less about his image right now, pulling you closer to him while his eyes are downcast - he makes no move to hand you over to the judge.

The puppet judge before him does not say anything - nor does she make a move. What she does however is wait, wait for the general before her that has been utterly crushed and broken by the person in his arms start to accept the harsh truth once again.

If he doesn't handle the mara-struck himself, someone else would - but the end result only serves to punish him in the end, the one left behind.

Xueyi hears a silent breath be let out by the general, her once closed eyes opening up to see the general pull slightly away from you, one hand reaching up to cradle your cheek. Your eyes have long since closed, and you're most likely not even conscious to hear what he's about to say.

"My dear... I'm sorry I couldn't do more for you. But I'm afraid you'll have to wait a bit longer before we can meet again," he whispers, bumping his forehead against your own gently, "I hope you won't fault me for that."

A long ginkgo leaf flutters right between the two of you, eventually settling down on your chest.

Jing Yuan sucks in one last deep breath, "I'm sorry I kept you here for so long - I'm sorry you had to be in pain for so long because of me," he leans in to slot his lips one last time over your own, whispering something that Xueyi can't hear before he rises up, your body limp in his arms.

"Thank you for your service Miss Xueyi, please see them off appropiately." Jing Yuan says, voice sounding eerily calm - almost like his usual self.

When he turns around to finally face her, the puppet's lifeless eyes seem to grow a bit in surprise. Before her is the general of Luofu, his usual easy-going smile present on his lips.

Like he wasn't carrying his mara-struck lover in his arms.

"As much as I would want to accompany you to see them off, I'm afraid I have some urgent matters to attend to," he informs, handing your body over to Xueyi - she doesn't comment on how his hands are still slightly trembling or how he immediately turned a bit to the side to ignore staring at her head-on.

Even though Xueyi doesn't want to ask, she still asks either way, "What are your plans from here on, general?"

Jing Yuan only gives her a close eyed smile, turning his gaze towards the large ginkgo tree with his hands behind his back. He gnaws a tiny bit at his lips, finally breathing out.

A couple of seconds passes by before he opens his mouth.

"I think I'll meditate a bit under this tree before heading back to the Seat. I can't leave Luofu without me for too long after all."

5 SCRAPPED WORKS AND I'M STILL NOT ACTUALLY THAT SATISFIED BUT IF I KEEP THIS PIECE LONGER IN THE WORKS THE MORE I'LL BUTCHER IT SO HAHA - THIS IS THE BEST WE CAN DO AFTER 3 MONTHS OF CONSTANT BACK AND FORTH FELLAS. I HOPE IT SQUEEZED YOUR HEART A TINY BIT NONETHELESS.

[nmakii]

Hi! I'm not the one that requested no one is better than I am.... BUT I loved it so much! I was wondering if you could make a part two say maybe the person we ran away with turns out to be abuse or something like that and we're kinda like 'I fucked up' and realize maybe running wasn't such a good idea.... Anyway you can add your own little twist and you can ignore this if you wish <3

- rose anon 🌹

AND I KNEW YOU’D COME BACK TO ME.

— this relationship wasn’t meant to last long. all is forgiven though. alastor will forgive you.

— tangled reimagined 😮‍💨 didnt even realize it until i finished writing HAHAHAHAHA

a month later, the honeymoon period had died out. to be fair, you hadn’t exactly made a plan…crashing at a motel on the edge of mississippi, not exactly what you had in mind.

living off the scraps of what you took, pawning off your belongings. oh, this was not ideal at all. and, how your lover got when he was angry; he’d bruise your arm from gripping way too tightly whenever you didn’t get enough money. how you started to miss alastor, it’s true what they say— you don’t know what you have until it’s gone.

if you were able to run once, perhaps you could just one more time? he is not as smart as alastor, you should be able to get away easily in the night.

yes, you should. after trading away many of your items, all you have left is but a satchel worth of dresses. new orleans is not particularly far with a car either.

and so, a familiar memory of running away at the dead of night. only now, it is you returning to alastor, just like he knew you would.

when you returned home, it was 2 AM. the house was just as it was when you left, albeit quite dusty now without your care.

you dropped your satchel on the dining table, just as you left it. it’s almost as if your home was abandoned when you left.

in the bedroom, your husband, sleeping peacefully— an arm clinging to your side of the bed, as if holding onto what little scent of you there was left.

when you opened the bathroom door, a silk nightgown was hung, simply waiting to be worn.

after you had changed, you sat back on your bed, the familiar smell of home coming back to you. as you laid in bed, you found yourself facing alastor.

your hands moved to bring him closer, the warm touch waking him scarily quick. “my love, you’ve returned.” he smiled, bringing you close.

your muscles tensed at the pet name, frightening reminders of the last month coming back. “hey, calm down, dear. i’m not mad.” he reassured you, awfully calmly at that. “running away; it was a mistake, wasn’t it?”

you nodded as you relaxed under his touch. “he was awful… im sorry, alastor…” you frowned. “oh, darling, i told you, didn’t i? no matter, all is forgiven.” he cooed, brushing your hair gently with his nimble fingers. “i’ll protect you from all that is bad in this world. no evil will meet you as long as i live. all i ask… is that you stay here, with me, forever— take care of our house, cook dinner, and perhaps even care for our little ones in the future?” he rambled on, a wide smile upon his face as he thinks of your future together. “ah, i’m rambling, we can discuss that in the future. in the meantime, could you do that, dear?” he asked, offering it to you as if you had a choice.

you nodded, not even looking at alastor. “good. i love you very much, don’t you know that, my dear? all i want is for you to be safe.” he told you. “…i” you started, thinking carefully of your words. “i love you too, alastor…” you said.

did you truly love him? of course you did. he took you back after you betrayed his trust, he’s a wonderful husband.

the moment the words fell from your sweet lips, a wide smile found its way onto alastor’s face. a kiss pressed upon your forehead.

his little doe finally returned his affections. it’s only a shame of his that he had to hurt your delicate heart first.

why would a single man be in a luxury store? oh, words cannot describe how thankful alastor is for your foolish naivety.

word on the street, that eugene was quite the heartbreaker. not to mention, that criminal record of his.

convincing him to go through with it wasn’t hard either. seeing a new toy that knows nothing of his record, he was more than eager to play with you. all it took was a bit of cash for him to keep up the sweetheart act.

and now that his doe was home, there’s no use for trash like that man in this world. the bruises on your arm, they were not what was intended.

all he asked was a simple grab, but it seems he got carried away, that piece of garbage.

as alastor forcefully swallowed his anger, he held you close, massaging the bruises on your wrist. “rest well, darling. you’ve been through a lot this past month.” he cooed, slowly lulling you to sleep.

oh, how excited he is that his little doe is home. to celebrate, we need a special meal, don’t we? say, there is a rare meat that alastor has been dying to try.

[formulafics]

Hi, love your fics!! ❤️❤️ Could I request a charles x reader? One where she's also a driver (your choice which team) and she's from Poland and their flags just look like 🇵🇱🇲🇨 and it's like a "funny" coincidence to the fans or something, maybe it's a charles and y/n thing to always point out how similar their flags are

★ IF YOU CANT BEAT ‘EM, JOIN ‘EM | CL16

Scenario: time and time again, your flag gets mixed up with your boyfriends’, and vice versa. this time around, something a little more interesting than just a mixed up flag happens.

Pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader (mclaren driver)

A/N: i’m so sorry this has taken me so long to get to! thank you so much for your patience 🫶🏻 this is actually such a cute idea, i love it. i hope you enjoy the fic! <3 ALSO THIS IS MY FIRST CHARLES FIC ‼️WHO CHEERED?

charles_leclerc

liked by arthur_leclerc, oscarpiastri, f1, yn_ln, and 1,360,155 others

charles_leclerc good to be back on the podium…even with the flag mishap. i wouldn’t want it to be any flag but @/yn_ln’s.

view all 12,345 comments

yn_ln i could say the same for your flag. congrats on p2 baby you deserve it! 🥰

scuderiaferrari if you can’t beat them join them. right @/yn_ln ?

⤷ yn_ln 👀

⤷ rizzciardo hey so what does this mean lol

landonorris get a room

⤷ yn_ln bet 🤭

leclercnorrisrussel WE CAN BE WORLD CHAMPION I SAID

lovelyleclerc yk its a good day when yn and charles are on the podium together

lovelyleclerc WAIT A MINUTE WTF DO YOU MEAN FERRARI

yn_leclerc

liked by charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc, landonorris, alex_albon, georgerussel63, and 864,562 others

yn_leclerc (accidentally) took his flag, joined his team, and now taking his name. 🤭❤️

thanks lando for taking the pictures 🫶🏻

view all 9,652 comments

charles_leclerc through sickness, health, and mixed flags 😂

⤷ yn_leclerc forever and always baby ❤️

landonorris thank god i don’t have to spend another year with you

⤷ yn_leclerc just bc we aren’t gonna be teammates doesn’t mean we aren’t friends 🤨 you’re not getting rid of me that easily mister. also i gave you photo credits i expect you to be nicer

pierregasly congratulations ❤️ love you guys

maxverstappen1 💙

georgerussel63 congrats guys 💙

carmenmundt so happy for you both! congratulations, mr and mrs. leclerc! ❤️

paularon_ @/arthur_leclerc can be the flower child at the wedding!

lovelyleclerc SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP ARE YOU SO SERIOUS RIGHT NOW

ferraricharles BABE WAKE UP YN AND CHARLES ARE ENGAGED

stardustf1 serving parents more than ever with this one

yn_leclerc and scuderiaferrari

liked by charles_leclerc, alex_albon, f1, paularon_, arthur_leclerc, landonorris, and 876,542 others

yn_leclerc a wise man once said “if you can’t beat them, join them” and join them i did. 🤭 can’t wait to see what the 2024 season brings!

view all 7,672 comments

charles_leclerc i love you ❤️ can’t wait

⤷ yn_leclerc i love you more

oscarpiastri thank you for the seat

⤷ yn_leclerc your welcome pls take care of lando

⤷ thumbsuplando CRYING I ALREADY MISS YN AND LANDO SO BADLY

scuderiaferrari happy to have you! 🥰

lovelyleclerc everytime i get the notif that you post, i go insane. i just wanted you to know that!

norrisnation i’m gonna miss you in mclaren but im so happy for you 😭🧡

ynsnumberone MOTHER

⤷ rizzciardo it truly isn’t a yn post if there isn’t someone in the comments calling her mother

thank you for reading! all feedback is appreciated! — dae <3

💌 | @renarots @jsjcue @lovstappen @illicitverstappen @treehouse-mouse @minkyungseokie @lokietro @spidersophie @arkhammaid @vellicora @stopeatread @motorsp0rt @leclercvsx @cixrosie @piasstrisblog @vroomvroomverstappen @harrysdimple05 @sadieurlady @fastcarsandshit @kortneej81 @i-love-ptv @pretty-little-bunny382728 @elliegrey2803 @yagirlhayes

[the-s1lly-corner]

Love that you opened requests for TADC!

Could you please do a scenario where Jax pulls a prank on the reader and locks them in a closet, but he has no idea that they have claustrophobia? They end up being found by someone else later, and Jax ends up feeling really bad about it?

(honestly love me some hurt/comfort)

Thank You!

Aftermath of a Prank (Jax x reader w/ claustrophobia)

wasn't sure what to name this since "jax traps you in a closet and feels bad" doesn't roll off the tongue that well LMAO i hope you enjoy this! imma admit, usually when it comes to writing for new characters i read up on others interpretations of them to get a decent handle of them + the canon stuff but i think im gonna wing it this time

It's not often that Jax genuinely apologizes to someone for something he did. often time he will give a huff and a half hearted sorry, or try to play the entire thing off... but there was something different about the current situation at hand

You see, Jax thought it would be funny to get you stuck in a closet, for one reason or another to push some joke he had in mind. What he did not have in mind, however, was the possibility that you were afraid of tight spaces.

Afraid you were, even more so because the closet was dark as well.

Jax was already long gone, claiming that he was going to run off to do something before departing. You asked him to let you out, thinking that he had simply pretended to leave.

But he truly had.

Discomfort turns into fear. Unsure calls for help turn into yells, which turn into you attempting to punch and kick the door open. Your eyes burned with hot tears.

You couldn't have been in there for more than ten minutes before Gangle opened the door, nearly catching your fist to her mask. It likely would have broken and revealed her tears, had her comedy mask not already been broken. She only squeaks in surprise, too stunned to move out of the way but thankfully you were able to reel yourself back in at the last second.

You muttered a quick apology before pulling yourself from the tight space, trying to steady the wobble in your steps. You and Gangle did not exchange any words, with you making your way to your room.

Word gets out. Gangle tells Kinger what happened. Kinger tells Pomni. Pomni tells Ragatha. Zooble finds out, but they don't care enough to gossip around. Before long Ragatha is telling Jax about it, with her own hunch that the rabbit was the one to blame.

Could you blame her? Jax has a bit of a track record...

Point is, Jax eventually finds out how scared you were through the grapevine and for once he actually feels bad about something. Annoying and spooking someone is one thing, but to instill genuine terror was another thing.

He wants to apologize, but it's such a foreign thing that he keeps putting it off. Days pass, with you now avoiding him, which only make him feel worse.

After another day of you only giving him dry responses he ends up cornering you, finally having enough of the guilt eating him up

Apparently not learning his lesson the first time but I digress

"Look," He said, square pupils fixed on you.

A sigh

"I'm sorry, okay? I didn't think you'd flip,"

Not perfect, but it's a start.

"If I knew I wouldn't have, I swear," he added when he was met with silence. From seemingly out of no where, he pulls something out

An object you like, be it a flower a book or something else that he found lying around the circus

You took it, observing, then looked back up at him. He did look remorseful, even if he didn't really say it.

That would have to do, that's the best you're going to get from him. Baby steps

From that day forward, you notice that Jax lightens up around you, pranking you less and generally being a little less annoying when it comes to you

[spectersgirl]

heyyy!! so i just started s5 of suits and (spoiler if you haven’t seen it!!!!) harvey’s panic attacks were introduced after donna left and IM HURTING FOR HIM. but i think that’s such great angst material lol so if you’re still taking requests maybe something with that?

Hiiiii friends!

I know I've been gone for... quite a while... but I'm hoping to start writing more frequently again! I've undergone some massive life changes over the last few months and the stress of that basically caused me to completely burn out creatively. That being said, I have a TONNN of requests in my inbox and a few of them are generally in this same realm, so I will be using all of them for this piece, I hope that's okay with you all <3

The other requests were

"soft harvey just around his girl in a tense moment?!"

"hiii! i love your writing! i was wondering if you could write a fic where harvey had like a bad day at work and he just goes home and collapses onto the reader. like just hugs and softness and cuddles galore!"

I referenced actual events and lines from the show but changed up the context a little bit, obviously.

I appreciate you all for reading my work and liking it enough to request anything from me. I've never had such a positive response to anything I've created before, so this all means the world to me. Truly, thank you :')

Be With You

Harvey Specter x Reader

--------

It was nearly 11pm and you were teetering on sleep, having worked all day and come home to do a much-needed cleaning of your apartment followed by a glass of wine, when your phone loudly pinged on the nightstand. You fumbled for it and turned on the small bedside lamp next to you. You smiled when you saw it was your boyfriend, probably just saying goodnight, you'd assumed.

"Hey, can I come over? Please? I really need to see you right now."

A pit formed in your stomach reading the words on your screen. Though you hadn't been dating Harvey all that long, you'd spent a lot of time together, but he'd never sent a message like that.

"Of course, is everything okay?"

You couldn't help but worry, it was simply in your nature. You stared at the bubbles that indicated he was typing, which seemed to take an eternity.

"Not really, it's been a rough day and I just really need you."

Your heart lurched, Harvey had rough days all the time as a lawyer, but none had caused this response from him. You wondered what could've possibly happened. You got up, going back out into the living room and took a seat on the couch as you lit your electric fireplace with a remote.

"I'm sorry :( come over whenever, I'll unlock the door for you."

You did just that and looked down at the pajamas you'd chosen, just some shorts and a tank top. You decided they were fine enough for Harvey to see you in. You busied yourself with some TV to pass the time until he arrived. He was there in 20 minutes, and you immediately clocked the visible exhaustion on his face as he walked inside.

He dropped his jacket onto the couch without saying a word. You opened your arms for him as he walked to you and wrapped himself around you in a hug that felt like he was clinging to you for dear life. You stroked the hair at the back of his neck as he breathed you in, and you felt that he had been sweating.

"Are you okay? Do you want to talk about it?" You asked hesitantly, still cradled in his strong arms.

He shook his head before pulling back, allowing you to really look at him now. His eyes looked like he'd been crying, and his cheeks were flushed. Your heart plummeted into your stomach.

"Not right now, I just need to be with you." He said, his voice slightly hoarse.

You nodded and sat with him on the couch, laying your head on his chest while you listened to his heartbeat. He absentmindedly stroked your hair while staring into the fireplace, debating on whether he wanted to fully open up about everything that was on his mind.

When he finally spoke, his voice was laced with nerves, and you sat up at full attention.

"I... A while back, right before I met you, Donna had left my desk to go and work for Louis. When that happened, I started having panic attacks. It felt like I couldn't think, couldn't breathe, it just completely took over my entire body until it passed. She came back to work for me, and then I met you, and I think that combination helped me tremendously."

You nodded, listening as he continued.

"I didn't want to tell you about it because I didn't want you to worry or make you think I was weak, and since I stopped having them, I didn't think it was important anymore, but today... I had another one."

"Harvey, I would never think you were weak for being honest about your feelings or your struggles. I'd like to think you'd be understanding and supportive of me if I was going through the same thing."

"Of course I would!" He said definitively.

"Exactly. So, do you want to talk about it? Or do you want to sit some more?"

He sighed and ran his free hand through his hair.

"Donna told me she didn't want to be on my desk anymore, she said she wanted more. I get that, but I just don't know how I'm going to do what I do without her help."

"Did she say what she meant by 'more'?" You asked softly.

"She said she didn't know."

Harvey hung his head slightly, looking down at the floor. You could tell how much this was affecting him, normally he had all the answers and didn't sweat about getting what he wanted, but this time felt different. You knew how much he and Donna had been through for them to get to this point, so it never occurred to you that someday she might want to leave her position. You idly rubbed circles on his back.

"Maybe you can still give her more and keep her at the firm with you?" You suggested, desperately trying to come up with a solution to soothe the pain you knew he was in.

"I'd love that, but ultimately if she wants to go, I have no choice but to let her."

You sighed and laid your head on his shoulder, you yawned and briefly closed your eyes as he placed a kiss on the top of your head.

"You tired?" Harvey asked softly, suddenly noticing that it was long past the time you normally went to bed.

You nodded, sitting up again.

"Yeah, but I knew you needed me." You answered, looking up at him as you grabbed his hand, kissing the back of it.

"I'm sorry baby, I didn't mean to keep you up." He replied, feeling guiltier than he had when he walked in. The time hadn't even registered to him after the day he'd had.

"No, no. It's okay, this is what partners do. You should be able to lean on one another, it's a balance. I'm glad you trust me and our relationship enough to want me to be with you for this while you process. Now, are you sleeping here with me or are we going back to your place? Because I know you, and I know you won't admit you don't want to sleep alone tonight."

Harvey smiled weakly before he pulled you in for a soft kiss.

"I love you, Y/N. So much." He whispered against your lips when the kiss broke.

The admission made your heart skip a beat. Neither of you had said the L word yet, but you knew from the moment you saw him that he was it for you. Harvey had felt the same but didn't want to come off as some crazy boyfriend that knew you for all of five minutes, so he buried those feelings deep down for as long as he could bare.

"I love you too, Harvey." You said, a smile growing on your lips.

"Let's stay here tonight, I don't want to spend another second not in a bed with the wonderful, gorgeous, brilliant, selfless woman that I love." Harvey declared, standing and taking you with him.

"Uh oh, you're gonna make me cry." You warned, sensing the impending waterworks.

"I'm just getting started."

[tommysversion]

hello!! i saw you were taking requests and i couldn’t find any set rule list, so please ignore this if it’s not something you’re comfortable with ❤️ but what maybe some smut where they’ve been in jackson for a bit and the girls there don’t get the hint that he’s taken and reader gets jealous and is the dominant one? also totally marks him so they know. (sorry i don’t usually request smut so im not really sure if i should add more or not but i really like your work so i wanted to try) anyway, thank you if you get to this and again, truly no issue if you don’t. i hope you have a fantastic day/evening 🥰❤️

Hi anon! Sorry this took so long, I had the big writers block for the last few days! I hope this is what you’re looking for!

You don’t get irritated easily. It’s one of the things Joel likes about you, actually. You tend to be the level headed one, the one people go to in a crisis because you’re damn near impossible to piss off. Damn near, but not quite. And lately, people have been pushing your damn buttons. Everyone has a weakness, and yours is Joel. 

You know he’s handsome. Hell, you’re not the only one who knows it. If he wasn’t so caught up in… well, being Joel, he’d probably be able to have any of the women in Jackson that he wanted. Somehow, he wanted you. Long before you even arrived there, too. Your relationship is concrete. Infallible. Only, there are a few women who don’t seem to have gotten the hint. 

They flirt with him, right in front of you sometimes. He doesn’t seem to notice, doesn’t seem to care, and whenever you bring it up? He’s dismissive of it. 

“I don’t care who’s lookin’ at me, darlin’, I’ve only got eyes for you.” 

Sweet words, yes. And it’s not that you don’t trust him. You do. With your life, with your heart and your soul. 

It still gets to you. Especially when he gets so pissy whenever anyone so much as looks at you. Oh, sure, you like it, and you love the possessive way he fucks you whenever it happens… but it’s given you an idea. Everyone knows now not to flirt with you or touch you, because you’re always, without fail, covered in love bites or have Joel with you, his hand on the small of your back in a not so subtle possessive way. 

It’s your turn. Time to flip the cards, as it were. 

——

Sunlight streams in through the window; it’s snowed overnight again, of course, but it looks to be a beautiful day. 

You’re awake first, for once; you’ve noticed that he sleeps better beside you. Oh, he still has his nightmares, and you’re certain he always will, but you’ve noticed a definite improvement. 

Your idea still bounces around your mind, a way to keep those pesky women away from him for good. Maybe if they know, without any reason to doubt, that he’s yours… they’ll back off. If he was anyone else, you might be nervous. But he’s not anyone else, he’s Joel. Your Joel. 

The thought gives you courage as you curl your body into his, press slow kisses up his chest. That’s new, too. Since settling in Jackson, you’re both far more at ease with sleeping in very little clothing, or, in this instance, naked. 

Your fingertips trail along his arms as you kiss over his heart, keep kissing up to his throat, along his jaw. 

“Hmm? Mornin’, darlin…” His voice is always so much more heavily accented first thing in the morning, sleepy and content. You like that, the change from being instantly alert to allowing himself a moment. 

“Hi there.” You keep on kissing, along his jaw to his lips, kissing the corner of his mouth. 

“Didn’t get enough last night, huh?” He doesn’t sound annoyed, not at all. For all he comments about being fifty six and not able to keep up with such a pretty young thing, he does a damn good job. Honestly, his stamina is fucking impressive. That, and you can feel him, hard against your stomach. Time to put your idea into practice. 

“Never.” You agree, before you roll, catching him off guard enough that you can straddle him, keeping him flat on his back on the soft bed. 

He raises an eyebrow, amused at your sudden movement. He’s used to you being the submissive one, begging him to be rougher, harder, being pinned beneath him or on all fours, occasionally against a wall or on the couch if you can’t make it to the bed. It happens. Even when you ride him, he has the control, and you both know it. 

He’s not used to this, to you straddling him with a sense of purpose, a glint in your eyes as you lean down and kiss him again, a searing kiss to his mouth that’s all passion, all desperation, like he’s the purest drug left in the world and you’re addicted. 

Without breaking the kiss, you grind down against him, letting his hands drift to your waist, guiding you. Slowly, you brush your bare folds along the length of him, enjoying the way he watches you, pupils blown wide. 

You can’t let yourself be distracted, no matter how much you want to be. 

“What’s gotten into you, huh?” His voice is hoarse, heavy with arousal as you kiss the corner of his mouth again, circling your hips, teasing the tip of his cock with your wetness. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” You reply, kissing his throat, finding a nice spot to leave your mark. Before he can answer you again, your kiss turns to a bite, sucking a deep purple mark into his throat as his hands shift lower, settling on your ass. 

You can feel his cock throbbing against you; it’s almost embarrassing how much you want him, how easy it would be to simply cave, beg him to roll you over and pin you to the bed. But this isn’t about you, not right now. This is about Joel, and about making sure those damn annoying women in town know that he’s yours. He’s yours. 

“Gonna tease me all morning, baby?” His tone makes it clear he doesn’t mind, not in the slightest, even if the haze of sleep has been replaced with lust. 

“Maybe.” You concede, leaving another mark on his collarbone. “I can see why you do this to me, now…” 

It certainly looks nice, the contrast of the purple marks against his olive skin. 

“Usually I fuck you, too.” Joel comments, and you laugh. 

“Is that your way of begging?” You ask, admiring the string of marks on his throat. Not bad, honestly. Not bad at all. 

“Sweetheart, if I was begging you, you’d know it.” He tries to sound stubborn, but you choose that moment to tease him again, brushing yourself against the tip of him once more. There’s a slight catch to his voice as he says it. 

“Are you sure?” 

He rolls his eyes. “Really, what’s gotten into you?” 

You smirk, lean down and press a kiss to his lips. 

“Maybe I just wanted to prove a point.” Your own resolve is failing slightly, just enough to cut your teasing short; maybe if you had slightly more control, you’d tease him for longer. But you know him, know his patience is limited, even for you. 

“And what might that be?” His hands are still on your waist; you move your own hands to his arms, keeping his movement limited; he’s not taking control, not this time. 

You don’t answer him for a moment, shift yourself, guide yourself to him, sink down onto him slowly. 

“That you’re mine,” you say finally, as every inch of him fills you; it takes a fair bit of effort to sound so in control, considering. He’s not exactly small, not so big he hurts you either, just right, perfectly filling you, the tip of him stroking against your sweet spot. 

“That so?” If Joel had his arms free, he’d be torn between crossing them behind his head, lazing back and just letting you have control, or seizing your waist and flipping you over, taking back control. He’s used to being the dominant one, but this? He could get used to this. There’s something appealing about the way you’re acting. 

“Yes.” You don’t dignify him with a drawn out answer; there are much better ways to punctuate what you’re saying, like circling your hips slowly, letting him feel you tighten around him. There’s an advantage to this position; you can use his arms to brace yourself as you start to ride him, slow at first. 

You can’t help the surge of confidence that comes with having him in this position. You know what sort of man he is, know exactly what he’s capable of. The fact that he’s willingly submitting to you, even if it’s just for curiosity sake… it definitely makes you feel good about yourself, encourages you to keep going. 

“C’mon, sweetheart, this all you got?” There’s an amused glint in his eyes; he knows you’re holding back on him, knows there’s strength in you that you keep hidden away. He’s seen glimmers of it, like when you marked him, but honestly, he wants to see how far you’ll go before you break. 

“Shut up, Joel.” You roll your eyes, lean down to kiss him. He meets you halfway; props himself up so you can change positions, so you’re more sitting in his lap than anything. You have to admit, you like the intimacy of it, the way his chest is pressed against yours. His arms encircle you, but he doesn’t try to take control of the situation, content with letting you ride him, setting the pace, trailing kisses along his chest. 

Even like this, you still have the control, are still the one calling the shots. You wrap your arms around his neck to steady yourself, riding him faster, finally allowing little sounds of pleasure to fall from your lips when he moans. 

“I dunno where this came from, sweetheart,” he mumbles into your ear, “but I kinda like it.” 

You laugh, curl your hands into his hair, your laughter fading into moans and mewls as he starts to buck his hips up to meet you as you ride him, getting deeper, bringing you into a perfect rhythm. 

You need something to do with your mouth to quiet you; you suck another mark into his throat to occupy yourself, satisfied when he groans. 

“Fuck, darlin’, you’re getting good at that…” Joel’s hands caress your waist, up your back, as though he’s trying to memorise every inch of your skin. He could spend all day touching you, and it wouldn’t be enough. 

“Learned from the best,” you reply, resting your head on his shoulder as you pick up your pace. He meets you each time, rocking his hips up to match your pace, for once keeping his filthy mouth to himself in place of a string of moans and growls. 

“You’re mine.” You remind him as you kiss him once more, as close to your release as he is to his own. 

“And you’re mine,” he confirms, hands settling on your waist, holding you in place as he bucks up into you, drawing your climax out of you, satisfied by the loud gasps and moans that fall from your lips. He doesn’t get long to be smug, though; your tightening around him is enough to bring him to his own release; you bear down on him, keeping him inside you, taking every drop that he has to give you. 

He shakes his head, half amused, as soon as he can catch his breath. 

“If anything comes of that… that’s on you.” He warns you. Not that he’d ever abandon you. Never. 

“Oops.” You wriggle on him, getting him deeper, proving your point. 

He drops a light kiss to your lips. 

“You should show this side more often,” Joel says, and then smirks, “you’re cute when you’re jealous.” 

You scoff, admire the string of bites and marks along his chest, collarbones, and throat. 

“Somehow, I think they’ll get the message.” 

[navstuffs]

hi!! i really love your writing and i would love if you could feed me with a request (only if you're comfortable with it, ofc) 👉🏼👈🏼 what about a leon x reader where reader is passing through a very tough depressive crisis and is really not fine mentally speaking — and leon just try to help and comfort them through this? 👉🏼👈🏼

anyway, thank you for your fics, they really helped me these days 😭💗

Anchor

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x GNPartner!Reader

Summary: It is 1 am when Leon Kennedy knocks on your door. He shouldn't be there and you shouldn't have opened it. 

Warning tags: hurt/comfort, angst, leon almost died, reader is suffering with anxiety due to past events, can be read as platonic or romantic (you choose)

Writer's Notes: hello! first of all, im sorry i took so long to write this request for you. i changed some stuff and i hope you don't mind (reader is still depressed). thank you so much your kind words and i hope this fic serves as comfort for you!! <333 stay safe anon!

for more painful leon's fics, check my masterlist. i have some happy ones too :)

It is 1 am when Leon Kennedy knocks on your door. It is the third time that week only, the fifth of the month. 

It starts when you don’t appear at work after two weeks since his return, and no one knows where you are. HR informs you are sick, which means you are still alive somewhere in the world, just sick. Okay, but sick with what? Sick how? Are you in the hospital? Do you need any help? Leon knows you don’t have family around, like him, and you are pretty much alone - like him. 

So, as any regular worried friend would, he calls and texts. He wants to hear your voice and guarantee that you don’t need help and have everything you need. That you truly are okay. No answer. HR has guaranteed him you are not dead, but what if you—no, he shouldn’t think about that.

The next step is going to your house. He knows where your address is and wouldn’t be a complete weird appearing there in the afternoon. No answer. Leon won’t be a creep as far as looking at your windows, at least not yet. He won’t go as far as busting your door and checking how you are feeling because he needs to confirm you are okay. You might just not be home.

On the second visit, Leon got awfully close to kicking your door. Before he could do that or even knock, he saw a shadow pass over the window. Though Leon told himself he wouldn’t, he looked inside just in time to see you disappear to the second floor. So, at least you are really alive, Leon’s body filling with relief. It could have been a bad case of flu, and you don’t want to contaminate anyone.

One more week passes, and he visits your house two more times. Those times you didn’t even bother to hide yourself, lazily lying down on the sofa in a way Leon couldn’t see your face (oh yeah, now he is definitely peeking out your windows). So you are genuinely ignoring him or truly sick with some contagious disease. Maybe Covid?

The fifth time he knocks on your door, it is 1 am and Leon is deeply not only worried but bitter. He was sitting in his apartment alone, wondering what you had and why you didn’t open the door for him. You two are colleagues, and Leon would dare to go as far as to call you his friend if anyone asked. How many times have you brought him soup while he was sick? Brought him meds, kept him company? Checked on him until he was finally all better?

It would be only fair if he did the same.

Leon grabs his keys without even thinking: You will open the door for him tonight. And if you don’t, well, he will kick it open. To hell with the civil approach.

-x-

All the courage slips away from his body when he notices the kitchen’s light on. Leon can’t see anything inside since you decided to make his life harder and close the curtains. So, instead of kicking that door until it’s down, Leon goes back to the gentle approach (like the idiot he is): he knocks.

The door opens not even ten seconds later, and Leon blinks, surprised. You are there. You, not a trick of his eyes: a fluffy and long blanket covering your body, only your face peeking with a familiar expression Leon recognizes immediately - he had seen in his own mirror before.

“You won. What the fuck do you want?” Those are the first words to him in weeks.

“May I come in?” 

You ponder for a moment, your eyes red, and Leon wonders when you last slept. You walk away, leaving the door open, and Leon follows inside, locking the door behind him. 

Your house isn’t in the best state. He had been here before and thought you weren’t the most organized person (“I can find myself in my own mess, Leon.”). The mess had grown too much from normal. There were tons of take-out boxes on the kitchen counter, pizza boxes, and fast food bags. At least you had been eating—not the best food ever, but feeding. He could work with that.

And the bottles—oh, those Leon would identify anywhere. You weren’t a heavy drinker, and you mentioned plenty of times you didn’t know how he liked whiskey. Now, there were countless empty bottles of whiskey, beer, and vodka, so much so that the place looked like a bunch of frat boys had a party just the night before and didn’t bother to clean.

Leon follows you to the living room as you fall onto the couch. An old Simpsons episode plays on the TV screen. There are still some bags and bottles on the floor, but fewer. Your eyes focus on the TV, not really watching or paying attention to him.  Leon stands there, keeping a safe distance from you and gathering what to say. 

“I came to check on you.” Leon starts, his eyes glued on you. “You haven’t called or texted me back. The HR said-”

“I am sick. I wanted to be left alone.”

“I know, but-”

“I could complain about this to HR, you know? It could be considered an invasion of privacy, and you could lose your job. “

“I was worried about you.”

“You saw me in the window that day, didn’t you? I’m alive and breathing. Now get out.”

You hide your face in the sofa, conversation clearly done on your side. It feels like an impossible battle to win. Leon then tries again, “Do you need anything?” 

“No. Get out.”

He sighs, turning on his heels. Leon wants to say you can call if you need him, any time, but Leon knows you wouldn't. This is an impossible battle to win, Leon realizes as he starts to leave. But then he freezes, a memory piercing his thoughts. Leon comes back to the living room, your face still hidden.

“No.”

“What?” 

“I am not leaving. Not before I know what is wrong.”

“I am sick.”

“Yes. So I have heard.” 

You don’t turn to look at him, and that’s fine. If you want to be stubborn, so could he. Leon can wait. The episode on the TV finally ends, and as the familiar opening plays in the background, you slowly turn in his direction, one eye appearing first, then the other, as if expecting Leon would be gone by now. Unlucky for you, Leon S. Kennedy didn’t give up that easily, especially for his friends.

“I don’t know what you are feeling, but I know that face.” His voice manages to sound neutral.

Of course, he does. Of course, your partner, the legendary D.S.O veteran, would know. You, just a newbie, would have no idea what he went through, but Leon didn’t seem the kind of person to crumble for anything. Leon would probably be fine if you were the one to get shot, not him. He wouldn’t have panicked, he wouldn’t have started crying, screaming for someone to help them, losing themselves in a sea of despair and pain.

“Hey…”

Blood. So much blood in your hands. You are useless, you can’t help him as Leon’s face loses color-

“Hey.”

He deserved someone better—someone much better as a partner—not you, a weak agent who thought you were strong enough to stand by his side. Oh, how wrong you were.

Leon calls your name, more urgent this time, and your line of sight is filled with the face of the man you considered your friend right at your path—concerned blue eyes, his hair tickling against your face. His forehead is in concentration, the faint ghost of a beard, as he speaks soothingly. “Hey, look at me. You are safe. Deep breaths, come on.” 

The visions mix as you blink: Leon losing blood in your arms, unconscious, back to being safe, his worried eyes staring at you.

Your rapid breathing noise fills the room, your heart wanting to burst as the pain spreads over your body, the pain worse than being stabbed or punched. You keep your eyes on Leon - he is fine, he is safe, he is well, he is worried sick about you- as he continues to nod and tell you to breathe.

It takes a while, Leon’s hands on your shoulder as you finally calm down, the tears rolling freely from your eyes.

“I am sorry.” You manage to whisper. “I am so sorry.”

“You are safe. We both are safe.” Leon declares, and you take that in. Right now, yes. But what about tomorrow? What about-? “Hey, eyes open at me.” When had you even closed them? “Come on. There is no one else, just you and me. And we are safe.” 

You nod, not arguing back. Finally, you sit down, and Leon takes two steps back. “Water?” 

“I think there are some in the fridge,” you reply, cleaning your tears. Leon leaves and quickly comes back with two bottles, unbottling them for you. You shake your head, but Leon insists, and you drink in small sips, the cold liquid refreshing your dry throat. When was the last time you had any water? Or took a shower? Or slept?

Finally, you give him space on the couch to sit. Leon doesn’t, and you point your head to your side, and he sits, keeping a safe distance from you. You two say nothing for a while, simply looking at the TV to watch Bart Simpsons on his shenanigans. 

“I am sorry.”

“Would you stop that?” Leon sighs back, frustrated. 

“No. I am sorry.”

“Fine. I forgive you. Are we good now?”

“No.” 

“I knew it wouldn’t be,” Leon replies with a sad smile.

“You could have died, and I didn’t-” Leon says your name, but you continue “-let me finish. I didn’t help. I didn’t move. I did nothing.” 

Leon didn’t want to talk about this, knowing it was inevitable. The day he took a bullet for you: not one, but two. Leon noticed before you, his reflexes quicker than yours. It was his responsibility anyway.

You only watched, shocked, as the bullet pierced his leg, then his chest. You didn’t move or flinch; you just froze, your hands closing and opening nervously as Leon fell right in front of you. You had been fortunate that the backup team had arrived on the other second, finding in the middle of the swarm of bullets a screaming you protecting Leon with his own body, all training thrown out of the window. You two should have been dead. Life had given you and him another chance, since no other vital organ or vein of Leon had been damaged.

You don’t remember much after except asking for your resignation that same day and getting a “No” as an answer. So you decided to get on sick leave until some higher-up got tired and fired you.

“I did nothing.” Leon tries to interrupt you again, but you continue, “You could have died, and I did nothing.”

“It wouldn’t be your fault.” 

“What? Of course, it would!” 

“No, it would not.” 

“Can you fucking stop trying to make me feel better?” Your tone is so angry, so vile, that Leon almost flinches. 

Death is always in the back of his mind. Every time he is out there, he could die. He is expandable; they all are, but he couldn’t just let you die. You a much smarter version of what he once was during Raccoon City. The same bravery, but not foolish as his. Much sharper. Leon knew why he got paired up with you in the first place, the irony not completely lost in him. 

It would have been fine if Leon died that day he protected you, but not okay if you did. Not on his watch. Not now, not ever.

“I can’t help it,” Leon replies, a sad smile on his lips. “I can’t help it, especially when a friend needs my help.” 

A friend? 

Do not grow attachments. Wasn’t that your first lesson? It had been hard to be paired up with a man who hated it at first, then to learn how to laugh at his silly jokes or admire how far Leon would go for anyone. For anyone, except himself, stupid brave man.

You open your mouth and close it, simply lying against the sofa with your eyes closed. 

“So, let me help you?” His voice is warm and inviting. 

It would be best if you said no. You should kick this man out of your living room, out of your life, and never go back to that stupid job fighting an endless battle that would end with you dead or someone you cherished dead. You don’t know how Leon does it, but as you open your eyes, his blue eyes look straight at you awaits in hope. Waiting to comfort you, support you to the best of his abilities, and be your friend.

The pain is still there, vivid in your soul and mind, but there is hope. Right there, in that tiny spot you gave Leon S. Kennedy. That’s why you shouldn’t have opened that damn door, you realize, but it is too late. You limit on nodding.

[tartigglez]

hi congrats!!!! could i request megumi +orange!!!

"warmth"

・❥・megumi x gn!reader

・❥・0.7k

・❥・back on my emo megumi agenda, first dates, silly kisses, fluff nothing important, no real plot, reader is a dog person

・❥・GOD I HAVEN'T BEEN ON HERE IN SO LONG THIS IS A VERY SMOL MEAL IM SO SORRY FOR MY TARDINESS ANON!!

・❥・if you want to request a prompt from this event, click on the orange title!

it’s hard to find home when the only place you are ever truly comfortable is in the shadows. 

megumi has known this since he was a mere child, ever since the manifestation of his cursed technique he has known that that is where he belongs.

but he was wrong, he realised this after he met you, when you coaxed him out of the shadows, when slowly but surely, he was less haunted by the destiny of sorcery laid out before him. 

on your first date with megumi, he was really quite stoic, and seemed quite unbothered by your presence altogether. this was odd, considering he was the one who had asked you out in the first place. well, sort of…

“we should get dinner later” he had grumbled, not phrasing it in such a way one would ask a person they had a crush on if they’d like to enjoy a meal together at all. 

“sure!” you’d optimistically agreed (although you were internally questioning him), and that was that. 

when this dinner actually happened, megumi was rather awkward. he either wouldn't talk at all, or ask how your food was before turning almost as red as the crimson tablecloth laid out in front of you both. it was the sort of date that was hard to tell if it was really even a date at all. you wondered if he had just asked you to a meal as friends, but quickly realised that couldn’t be right, since any time you’d eaten out with him and another one of your classmates right after a mission, he’d be much more relaxed. 

in all reality, you didn’t know much about megumi. when in public, it was a little hard to discuss curses, so that was off the table despite being just about the only thing you had in common with him, because, of course, it's also rather difficult to talk about much other than curses inside the confines of jujutsu tech. 

eventually though, your awkward silence gave way to a common love that you both have, dogs! of course this was indirectly related to his shikigami, but the other people in the restaurant didn't need to know that. 

the date seemed to pass quickly after that, with megumi discussing the personalities of his “pet” dogs whilst wearing a slight smile. 

after insisting on buying your dinner for you, he quietly walked you to the outside of the restaurant, standing for a moment, trying to think of something to say. you however, had a trick up your sleeve. 

a kiss.

you placed a hand on his shoulder, leaning up on your tiptoes and giving him a quick peck on the cheek, before running to the nearest cab. 

“see you on monday, megumi! thanks for dinner!” 

however, he was still frozen, and only managed to speak a quiet “bye” as your taxi drove off. 

and in that moment, megumi fushiguro did something rather rare, and smiled a genuine smile. 

“gumi, have you seen my hoodie?”

“your hoodie? is that what we’re calling it now?” he teases, practically smiling through his words. 

“shut up~ you know it’s my favourite”

“only cause it’s mine” he mumbles, gesturing you to come closer to him as he sits on his bed, beckoning you to cease your search. 

“fine, maybe that's why…” you trail off, coming over to the bed and taking a seat on his lap. 

he looks up at you with those eyes. so loving and pure and calm and nothing else matters when he looks at you like that. in conclusion, he wants attention. 

“what's wrong honey?” you ask, running a hand through the hair at the back of his neck, meeting his eyes with yours, tilting your head a little.

“nothin’, just thinking” he whispers.

“about what?”

“that's for me to know.”

and he does know. he’s thinking about how it’s been three years exactly since he took you out to that shitty restaurant, or how you came to his dorm at 2am two weeks later and said nothing, just pulled him in by the collar of his pyjamas and kissed him. how you never cease to surprise him. how bright his love for you burns. how that warmth can never truly be extinguished. 

sfw masterlist || event masterlist

© tartigglez, 2023. do not copy, translate or repost, reblogs appreciated

[ad0rechuu]

HONEST (BUT HAPPY) ACCIDENT. ━━ PSW

prompts / plot. ━━━━━ first kiss, kissing each other breathless, nose kisses & holding hands while running through the rain

requested by @mundayoonimnida. ━━━━━ gn! foreigner! reader x university student! park seonghwa , fluff/slice of life , staring: yn & seonghwa (+ unnamed friends) , tw: rain, slight anxiety, kissing, mentions of both star wars and legos, the reader wears lip make up, overuse of the word pretty because the author loves that word , wc: 685 , notes: i know the request is technically female reader but i ended up not using any pronouns so it’s gn! thanks for requesting lovely im sorry that it took so long! the request was wonderful

[ listening to . . . ] CAndY EyEs doLLS by Tommy February6

masterlist | credits to @ari-shipping-stuff for being my beta reader / writer <33

SEONGHWA COULD NOT BELIEVE HIS OWN ACTIONS.

It was truly unlike him to do something like this. He knew it, and even you— who was now staring with wide eyes at him— knew it.

Your thumbs had stopped caressing his wet hands like they previously did as you two stood underneath the bus shelter. You didn’t let go however, not even once. That little fact gave him hope that he hadn't ruined everything, despite still feeling like letting the earth swallow him.

He hadn't meant to kiss you. It was an honest accident.

It was just.. The way you had shown up as he walked back to his dorm after class, grabbed his hands, and pulled him out of the rain only a couple moments before. The way you gently scolded him about the mere possibility of getting sick made him feel so cared for— so loved that his body moved before he even knew what he was doing.

Truthfully, he hadn’t know you for that long. Only 343 days to be exact. Back then, you were just the pretty foreign exchange student, but something about you made him fall head over heels. He was a fool for you since the day you first exchanged words when you were assigned to work on a class project together in one of your shared classes.

He was so happy to find out you two had mutual friends, giving him an excuse to keep hanging around you after the project ended.

Seonghwa could never not melt in your presence. Especially not when he found out you two had similar interests like Star Wars (he couldn't even be bothered when you'd said that Star Trek was just as good to you) and building Legos.

After he happened to buy one of the sets you were interested, you two spent the whole night building it together. It had eventually become a weekly occurrence where you would build Legos or rewatch the movies and theory videos. All the while, Seonghwa stole glances of your pretty lips, wondering if they’d feel as soft as they looked.

Well.. Now he knew!

It was definitely not the way he had planned to confess. You were so beautiful inside and out. You always took care of him and protected him out of the kindness of your heart and made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside. You honestly deserved a better confession.

But that was not how it went, and now you were looking at him with those pretty eyes. He watched your expression with a nervous, awaiting look on his face.

“I-I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me, you just—! It was uh… an accident! Yeah, an accident! I’m really sorry, Yn.” He stuttered as he moved a step away.

With the distance he created in between you and him, he tried to let go of your hands, only for you to tighten your grip on them, pulling him closer instead.

“An accident?” You asked, the mere thought creating a slight tremor in your words.

“Yeah, I didn’t mean to confess like this—”

Seonghwa continued to stumble over his own words, but those few were enough for the corners of your mouth to lift up in a wholehearted smile. You wrapped your hands around his neck, staring into his brown eyes, and placed a kiss on his nose, effectively silencing his self-deprecating confession.

Finally, Seonghwa looked back at you, the hearts nearly jumping out of his eyes as they met your own.

He wrapped his arms around your waist and you slowly leaned in, lips coming together in a entirely new sensation, moving clumsily but in-sync, full of emotion until the both of ran out of oxygen.

Slightly panting, you looked at each other once again as you parted, with a knowing but loving smile, as well as your cosmetic lip color apparent on both of your lips. You breathlessly exchanged your feelings before reuniting in the third kiss of many to come.

Sure, he didn’t mean to kiss you right there and then. It was simply an honest but happy accident.

networks. @cromernet

notes. PLEASE LEAVE FEEDBACK THIS IS MY FIRST WORK BACK AND IM VERY NERVOUS ‼️i love writing seonghwa its probably one of the easiest members to write for me but still it was v fun <33

taglist. @yuyusuyu @seonghwaddict @tocupid @leo-seonghwa @aestheticsluut @mrowwww @i-luvsang @yourfatherlucifer @cybrsan @kodzumo @gyumibear | send me an ask to be added to the general obey me or kpop taglist (or both ofc)

[its-avalon-08]

hearts intertwined (hamilton x sister! driver!rosberg) p14

chapter 14: double agent

series masterlist

avaspeaks - im so so so so so sorry i havent updated this series in so long. requests are taking up so much time! here you go anyway, pt14!

Y/N and Nico sat in the quiet comfort of her Miami apartment, the city lights twinkling outside the window. The post-race buzz had faded, leaving a comfortable silence in its wake. They'd been reminiscing about their childhood, sharing stories of pranks pulled on unsuspecting neighbors and the countless races they'd staged down their suburban street.

Nico had a smile on his face, a shadow flickering across his features. They sat in comfortable silence for a while, the sound of the gentle waves lapping against the shore providing a soothing backdrop.

Finally, Y/N broke the silence. "Nico," she began, her voice hesitant, "there's something I need to ask."

Nico met her gaze, a flicker of apprehension crossing his features. "What is it, Y/N?"

"Lewis," she started, then took a deep breath. "Do you… do you ever think about fixing things with him?"

Nico's smile vanished. The question hung heavy in the air, a silent echo of years of unspoken tension. A muscle twitched in his jaw, and Y/N sensed the turmoil simmering beneath his calm exterior.

"Lewis," he finally choked out, his voice thick with emotion. "Every time I see him, Y/N… every time I hear his name, it's like a punch to the gut. We were… we were more than teammates. We were friends. Brothers, almost."

He paused, his gaze averted, lost in the memories that flooded back. "The rivalry… it consumed us, Y/N. It poisoned everything. We pushed each other to our limits, yes, but at what cost? We lost each other in the process."

Tears welled up in his eyes, his voice cracking with raw emotion. Y/N's heart ached for him. The rivalry everyone else saw as thrilling competition, she witnessed firsthand as a slow, agonizing erosion of a once strong bond.

Without a word, she reached out and squeezed his hand, her touch a silent display of understanding and support. "I know, Nico. I know."

He leaned into her touch, his voice a mere whisper. "We were so focused on winning, on proving ourselves, that we forgot what truly mattered. The joy of racing, the camaraderie… and most importantly, our friendship."

Y/N listened patiently, her presence a balm to his emotional wounds. As Nico spoke, the pain of the past seemed to seep out of him, a heavy weight finally lifted.

"Maybe… maybe one day," Nico said, wiping away a stray tear, "we can try to rebuild what was lost. But for now… for now, it still hurts too much."

Y/N offered him a comforting smile. "I understand, Nico. But at least now you've spoken it out loud. That's the first step, right?"

Nico nodded, a flicker of hope returning to his eyes. He squeezed her hand, a silent thank you for her unwavering support.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the beach, a newfound understanding bloomed between them. The path to reconciliation might be long and arduous, but the first seed had been sown. Perhaps, one day, the bitter rivalry that had driven a wedge between Lewis and Nico could be replaced by something stronger, something akin to the friendship they once shared.

switching sides (y/n is such a menace)

Stepping out of her room for a breath of fresh air, Y/N's eyes landed on a solitary figure silhouetted against the moonlit Miami skyline. It was Lewis, perched on the hotel balcony, a bottle of beer dangling precariously in his hand.

Curiosity piqued, Y/N walked over, the oversized Red Bull racing shirt hanging loosely on her frame, barely concealing the shorts underneath.

"Lewis?" she called out softly.

He looked up, startled, then a flicker of a smile crossed his face. "Y/N. Shouldn't you be getting some rest?"

"I could say the same to you," she countered, leaning against the railing. "Care if I join you?"

Lewis gestured to the empty space beside him. "Of course. Want a beer?"

Y/N shook her head. "Not tonight. Just wanted some company."

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, the rhythmic hum of the city below providing a backdrop for their unspoken thoughts.

Finally, Lewis spoke, his voice tinged with a hint of melancholy. "The race was… intense."

Y/N chuckled. "Understatement of the century, wouldn't you say?"

A smile played on his lips. "You pushed me hard, Y/N. More than anyone else on the grid."

Her cheeks flushed. "Just doing my job," she said, though a playful glint danced in her eyes.

The air crackled with a sudden awareness. Gone was the tension from earlier; in its place, a comfortable familiarity bloomed between them.

They reminisced about past races, shared stories, and laughed at each other's jokes. As the conversation flowed, a new vulnerability seemed to emerge in Lewis's voice.

Lewis smiled, but a shadow lingered in his eyes. "Speaking of friendships," Y/N continued, her voice dropping to a quieter tone, "do you… do you ever think about fixing things with Nico?"

The question hung heavy in the air, the weight of years of rivalry pressing down on them. Lewis's posture stiffened, his jaw clenching tight.

"Nico," he finally said, his voice raspy. "It's… complicated. The competition, the pressure… it drove a wedge between us. I don't even know where to begin."

Y/N listened intently as Lewis stared out at the moonlit cityscape, his voice low and strained. "It started subtly, Y/N. Back in the early days, when we were both hungry rookies, pushing each other made us better. We thrived on the competition."

He took a swig from his beer, the clink echoing in the quiet night. "But as the wins started piling up, the rivalry became… obsessive. Every race was a battle, not just between us and the other drivers, but between us two. We'd analyze each other's moves, scrutinize each other's tactics, it was relentless."

A bitter smile played on his lips. "We both started questioning every interaction, wondering if it was genuine or just another mind game. The trust, the camaraderie, it slowly eroded, replaced by suspicion and a constant need to prove ourselves as the better driver."

Y/N's heart ached for them. "Did you ever try… talking about it?"

Lewis shook his head, his gaze filled with regret. "Ego got in the way. We were both so focused on winning, so determined to dominate the sport, that admitting our insecurities felt… like a weakness."

He let out a humorless chuckle. "The irony, of course, is that the intense rivalry ended up weakening us both. We lost sight of the joy of racing, the thrill of the competition. All that remained was a bitter animosity."

Y/N leaned against the railing, her voice a soft murmur. "It sounds like you both let the competition consume you. Forgot what truly mattered."

Lewis nodded, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. "We did. And the worst part? The media loved it. They fueled the fire, turning our rivalry into a spectacle for the fans. It was a constant reminder of the friendship we were destroying, brick by agonizing brick."

He turned to Y/N, a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes. "Maybe… maybe if we had just stopped, talked about what was happening… things could have been different. We might have saved our friendship."

Y/N saw the pain flicker across his face, a flicker she recognized all too well from her own conversations with Nico.

"Maybe," she said, stepping closer to him, "maybe just a conversation. A chance to acknowledge what went wrong. It won't erase the past, but it could be a start."

Before Lewis could respond, Y/N surprised him by engulfing him in a tight hug. The unexpected gesture took his breath away, but then he wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her hair.

A single tear escaped his eye, tracing a warm path down her cheek. In that moment, a million unspoken words hung between them - apologies, regrets, and a yearning for something that had been lost.

Y/N held him closer, her heart aching for the pain that had fractured their bond. "It's okay, Lewis," she whispered. "It's never too late to try."

They stood there for a long time, two souls seeking solace in the quiet embrace of the night. The moon cast a soft glow on them, a silent witness to the tentative steps towards a reconciliation that stretched far beyond the confines of a racetrack rivalry.

The future remained uncertain, but for the first time, a flicker of hope had ignited, a spark of redemption for the fractured relationships that had haunted them for far too long.

exclusive feature! here's a talk with y/n---

author - y/n why are you meddling with brocedes?

y/n - cause it gives you a banger chapter 15

author - fair enough, continue <3

y/n - you have no idea what is about to hit you! ly

credits for gif - @lewishamiltongifs

taglist: @laura-naruto-fan1998 , @xoscar03 , @torossosebs , @jajouska , @lindsayjoy444 , @barcelonaloverf1life , @charli123456789, @heyheyheyggg

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

leave a like! leave a comment! reblogs are appreciated!

[lustkillers]

hi! I absolutely love your stories! would you mind writing some Gabriel (Columbus) or Clyde (Elecktrick Children) fluff (or smut?)? maybe something fluffy that ends up steamy please? thank you! 🫶🫶

NOTHING THE MATTER WITH A KISS!

⊹₊ ⋆ summary. - who knew he was head over heels for you?

┃ tags/warnings. ࿐ ❪ nsfw freak shit, unprotected sex, overstimulation, fingering, softdom!clyde, sub!reader, standing sex?? fluff & bad writing im sorry </3 ❫

⊹₊ ⋆ pairing - clyde x fem!reader

⊹₊ ⋆ note - this request twisted knobs in my brain RAHHHHH but i hope i did this justice!! this is also a short one, i'm so sorry!! the 13 going on 30 roman fic will be published soon (hopefully) !! not proofread. my inbox is open for requests, so feel free to drop anything!

CLYDE watched you as your hips swayed to the music playing in the background of the apartment you both shared, his lips tugging into a smile.

The music was loud, a bluetooth speaker emitting tunes that had become your favorite over the last year, despite neither of you knowing where it wilfully came from. It suddenly struck him how truly happy he was in this moment - with you.

He stood up and walked closer to you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he rested his chin atop your shoulder. You could feel the subtle heat of his breath on your neck, sending a tingle down your back. He could tell that was pleased with being held by him as he felt you sink into his embrace.

He noticed the way your eyes sparkled when he approached you, and a feeling of contentment surged through his veins. He wanted this moment to last forever, he never wanted it to end.

You swayed against him with a smile, a heat traveling to your cheeks as you allowed yourself to melt into the space that seemed so perfectly crafted for both of you. He took his hand and placed it gently on your chin, turning your face towards his before pressing a soft kiss onto your lips. The sudden electricity of the kiss caused both of you to stiffen momentarily in surprise before melting into one another again, your arms wrapping around his neck as you locked your lips together in a moment of unspoken tenderness.

However, it got heated. His lips explored yours with a newfound hunger that had been unfulfilled till then. You felt your heart skip a beat, and couldn't help but return his intensity as you two lost yourself in each other's embrace.

Clyde’s veiny hands found its way to your soaking pussy as you softly moaned into his mouth. His hands were gentle but dominant, and before you knew it you found yourself pushing your hips against his touch, giving in to the strong craving within. He could feel your eagerness and responded with more intensity as he inserted a finger inside of you while he continued exploring your lips with deep kisses.

You gasped at the sudden pleasure as he explored different angles, sending a wave of warmth and bliss throughout your entire body. His fingers gradually increased in speed and intensity as you started feeling yourself getting closer to climax.

His thumb circled your clit, causing you to cry out in pleasure as you felt yourself getting closer and closer.

"Fuck, Clyde!" You cried out, "C-Can I please cum...?" You asked him desperately, your voice shaking with lust.

Clyde felt your body start to tense up and he smiled in satisfaction, giving you one last long kiss before pulling away. With a mischievous smirk on his face, he replied, "Let go f’me.."

And with those words you could feel yourself start to come undone as the waves of pleasure crashed over you. You cried out in bliss, letting go of all your worries and concerns as the orgasm took hold of your entire body.

Your back now found itself laid on the couch, your breathing labored as you looked up at Clyde in admiration.

His blue eyes looked down at you with love, his hands stripping you both of any clothing you had. His lips trailed down your body, setting off fireworks within you as he made his way to pleasure you even more.

He guided his aching, hard cock to your entrance, pushing himself inch by inch into your tightness. You moaned in pleasure, clutching onto his shoulders as he moved slowly but firmly inside of you. He kissed you passionately, which made the sensations more intense with every thrust and moan that escaped from your lips.

Clyde was panting in your ear, his breath hot and heavy as pleasure cascaded through you both.

"Good girl..." He kept on chanting into your ear, the syllables heightening the moment even further as you felt your orgasm reach its pinnacle.

His thrusts were becoming erratic, the sounds of his hips colliding with yours filling the air.

"S-Shit... Cum with me," He groaned, pushing himself deeper into you as the pleasure came to its climax.

You held onto him tightly as you both shuddered in pleasure simultaneously, breathing heavily and crying out to one another. As the intensity of the moment died down, Clyde looked into your eyes with love and kissed you passionately.

Both your bodies were sweaty, sticking to each other as he laid on top of you.

"I love you," He whispered softly, his arms wrapping around your waist as you both held onto each other in solemn bliss.

You hummed, "I love you."

Maybe you should dance more often.

[kazucinth]

Could you possibly write some headcanons for Varian with a s/o that he finds out is a mermaid<6)[>

Notes: I’m quite proud of this HAHAH im sorry if it took quite long! But thanks for the request!! And here you gooo!!!

💞It wouldn’t take long for varian to find out your a mermaid

💞it would be quite difficult to get in the water, and get back out without Varian noticing

💞Yet he would notice how you would be irritated when your were out for long and tried to make an excuse ao you can get back.

💞He would notice whenever he went to your place you would always seem to have just gotten out of the shower

💞at first he brushed off the thought, and thought that maybe you just like bathing? Or you may have a skin condition

💞When Varian had asked you about this, because he began to grow worried if you truly had a condition, and he wanted to help, but the way you couldn’t think of a reason and were nervous. His suspicion began to grew

💞He didn’t want to push further so he let it slide

💞The way Varian found out was a complete accident

💞When you both were hanging out near the beach on the borders, you both were fine because nothing wrong would happen right? Wrong.

💞Varian had decided to teach you a bit by splashing water to you, and as a natural instinct you began splashing each other, and got up to chse each other until you had slipped on a wet part and fell to the water, Varian tried to reach you and laughed when you fell, till he noticed a tailpoking out of the water beside you and recoginzed it was a mermaid’s tail!

💞He would ask questions that you would be comfortable with, and be enamoured with your tail, and how beautiful you looked in the water as a mermaid, how could he not notice this?

💞When you decided to tell him the reason you were hiding it, he would completely understand.

💞Varian would search a book that contains about mermaids, whether fictional or not so he could grasp the concept of mermaids and you

💞He would be impress by your ability to switch into a human, and turn into a mermaid by the contact with water!

💞I feel like he would conduct an experiment on how to make you hydrated and how to add in the duration of your human form, so you wouldn’t have to worry about your skin itching or getting irritated when you last longer out of water

💞overall he cares about you, and he doesn’t mind if your a mermaid, just PLEASE don’t keep it a secret from him, this boy admires your for who you are and loves you💕

[aliorsboxostuff]

Hi! If your requests are open I have one! Just saw ATSV yesterday and its rotting my brain agsisghagdh anyways-

An M!Spider!Reader who is one of Miguel's trusted agents with a tendency to overwork himself to make sure that his teammates are kept safe and ignoring his own health in the process. This understandably makes Miguel very concerned but this man cannot healthily express this are you kidding? What I'm saying is classic troupe of patching you up while scolding you in Spanish and then maybe they kiss a little bit and well if you want to make it a little spicy I wont stop you >:]

Thank you very much! Genuinely makes my gay little heart happy when I see writers like you who exclusively write for gn/male readers, y'all are the backbone of the x reader community fr 💜

A/N: im so sorry this took so long this was months ago but a mf forgot and wow here i am yippee!!!! As usual, if yall find any spelling mistakes pls inform me as i’m always praciticing this damn 2nd language lmao. Lets see if my writing skills is still any good LOL enjoy!! <333

Careless 

Tags: Miguel O’hara xM!Reader, Spidey!Reader, Lyla, Miles Morales, Gwen Stacy, Spider Society, No Smut, Kissing , Fluff, Reader is another spiderman, Soft!Miguel, slight OOC, patching up, healing fic, non-graphic description of wounds, mentions of blood and cuts 

Yet, with all that said, Miguel likes to remind himself that no spidey truly comes home unscathed.

Ever since the new guy joined the team, he quickly rose in the ranks and became Miguel’s right-hand man. He’d usually go on patrol, jumping from one universe to another with the man as they capture and contain anomalies like the bugs they are. Miguel puts his trust in him, well, as much trust as a man like Miguel can put in someone. But despite the short time the newbie has been in the Spider society, he has managed to capture Miguel and most of the Spider people's hearts so easily. 

He’s a comet that passes by the compound. Each time he returned from a mission, the spiders would gather around him, congratulating him on another successful mission and inviting him to drink or eat together.  A aswarm would always gather around the portal they knew he would come out from and each time, without fail, he would emerge to cheers and smiles. It wasn't like everyone else wasn't doing a good job, they were all doing what they were supposed to, but somehow the newbie was liked all around, solidifying Miguel’s slowly growing infatuation with him. 

But despite the trust and praises he gets, a spidey doesn't come home unscathed, not every time. Sometimes he’d come back from one of his solo missions with a broken rib or two, bruises in more places than necessary, a torn muscle here a twisted ankle there. He’d limp his way into the infirmary, an army of other spideys following him in worry yet he’d dismiss them easily with a simple wave and a; “It’s nothing guys, I’ll be fine,”

Miguel hates it.

Whenever the man goes on missions with the leader of the society, without fail, he will come home with nothing more than one or two bruises that would heal in a couple of hours if not minutes. Miguel would roll his shoulders back and the man would simply shake his head furiously like a dog before prancing to greet his waves of fans. Miguel didn't need to pay attention to him unless they were doing teamwork. He would run around by himself, track down the anomaly with him, and they would contain it easily and transfer it back just as easily. 

He might not look like it, but when Miguel brings a teammate with him on duo missions, he’s expected to cover their back and vice versa. Miguel will break any skull that dares to hurt his team and he hopes for the same response from his teammate. The newbie never disappoints. 

Miguel would find himself enraged, almost cornered by an anomaly, and there come’s Prince Charming with a devastating kick towards the anomaly’s side which sends it hurling into another building. Miguel appreciates their duo missions, the main reason he puts himself with the newbie. 

Not to mention, he makes a great team leader too. He’s carried out several missions with the younger ones, mainly Miles and Gwen, and despite it all, they always return successfully and with a snack in hand. When he goes on missions with Hobie, they’d somehow come back with a new intricate playlist created and when he goes on missions with Pavitr, they’d come back with pockets full of trinkets ready to give them to the other youngins. All in all, a solid team leader.

Yet, with all that said, Miguel likes to remind himself that no spidey truly comes home unscathed.

—

You were on a mission with Miles. One of your duo missions with the boy, rare considering Gwen usually tags along. But today she’s got a mission with Pavitr and Peni, which leaves you and Miles for some quality Dude Time. 

It was a sunny day in the universe Miles and you dropped in. As the two of you swing from building to building, talking about Miles’ thing with Gwen and laughing at how embarrassed he gets, continuing the topic to buying a new Lego set for Pavitr and Hobie as the two of you swung past a Lego shop, when suddenly the anomaly reveals itself.

Another variant of Doc Oct holding themselves up with their extended metal arms. You can handle a Doc Oct alone, and with Miles helping you, the mission was expected to be so easy you were already thinking about what to have for dinner. 

But things don't always go according to plan, does it?

It strikes 8 pm when Miguel gets a notif from Lyla that an arriving portal was opened into the containment site of the compound. The man clicks his tongue, dropping from his platform before making his way to the site. Every step he takes he leaves his foul mood like a repellent, making the other spidey avoid him, cutting the middle path of the other spideys like a blade. His scowl is not helping his case either way.

The last portal should've been at 6 pm.

The door slides open, and a slight hiss rings out into the room. Inside the evenly lit expanse of the room, he easily spots yours and Mile’s spider suits in between all the other anomaly's dingy outfits. Miguel takes a breath before he stalks towards the two men, their backs to him.

“Ugh, my rib is killing me,” You groan, pressing in the code to store the anomaly in its cell.

“You're telling me, this bruise is going to be a pain in the butt to heal,” Miles sighed, holding his left arm. “But if it weren't for you, man, I’d be dead meat,” 

“Oh come on Miles, none of us knew the guy would send a gas truck our way,” You scoff. The terminal beeps and the thrashing anomaly is contained. 

“The fact that it burned on its way towards us was also something we didn't expect.” Miles laughs at what you said as you find yourself cringing. You knew there were going to be burn marks on your leg.

“No, but seriously, thanks for covering me back there, I thought we’d-”

“You thought you’d what?” 

Miles practically jumps into your arms as the both of you screams. You shut your eyes and it seems like Mile’s did the same before a stern cough makes you peek through your eyelids. There, in front of you, stands a solid wall of muscle and anger. Miguel has his arms crossed, eyes so sharp it could cut a mountain in half. The slight scowl on his lips would be cute if it weren't for the pure bloodlust as he gazes down into you, making you gulp.

“Heeeeeey Miguel,” Your pathetic excuse of a smile was met with nothing but him deepening his frown. Okay alright yup.

Miles awkwardly scuffles down your arms. He coughs into his fist, pulling at the edge of his suit. “Hi there haha…”

Miguel stares. “The last arrival portal should've been at six.”

Not a sound from you or Miles. Miguel holds back a growl. 

“You two are late.”

“Right, ‘m sorry Miguel, I promise this would be the last time, it was just that- See me and Miles here; we didn't realize that this Doc Oct was gonna be slightly more insane than the others-” You ramble, Miles quickly nodding along. 

“And haha, well, one truck lead to another and next thing ya’ now, bam! We got uh… hurt,” A nervous chuckle left your lips. Miguel replies nothing.

“B-but! I covered Miles from the fire! So he only got a couple of bruises, I promise the kid is fine and it wasn't his fault either so let’s just-”

“Enough.” He barks. You practically clamped your mouth shut. 

The doors hisses open again and Gwen comes running in, worry on her face. She sighs in relief as he spots Miles hiding beside you. “Miles! Thank goodness you’re okay!” 

Miguel turns as she runs and wraps her arms around the boy. “You came back so late!”

“I’m sorry Gwen, things got a bit out of control,” Miles pats the girl back reassuringly. “I just got a bit beaten up, nothing I can't handle,” 

Gwen pulls back and grabs the boy's face before turning it left and right and up and down, her eyes scanning like a hawk. She deems it enough as she stops, hands firmly holding Miles’ arms. “You always say that,” She sighs. 

You can't help the small relieved smile on your lips as you watch the two teens catch up with each other before Miguel makes a gesture with his hand.

“Gwen, go take Morales into the infirmary.” He says as he nods to Lyla that popped up on his brace. “And make sure he doesn't get out of bed for the next two days.”

“What?! But it’s barely a scratch-” 

“Now, Morales.” The man stares them down until eventually, Miles relents with a sigh and lets the girl usher him into the Infirmary's direction, the two of them shuffling next to each other, Gwen's arm around Miles. 

You hear something along the lines of ‘detention’ from Gwen as she laughs before the door slides close, leaving you with an enraged lion in its territory. You gulp as Miguel fixes his red eyes on you.

“You. Come with me.” 

And that's how you find yourself walking down the halls of the many living quarters of the compound. You followed silently behind Miguel’s broad shoulders, in any other day you would find it hard to resist not ogling those massive arms, but tonight Miguel was practically a walking beacon of rage. The smallest misstep would make him burst and thats the last thing you want to happen. 

“Miguel, I'm sorry, okay?” You try, catching up to walk beside him. “I promise this will be the last time I’ll come back from a mission late, plus, I won't bring anyone else with me too if I ever do it again. I swear this won't hap-”

His sudden halt catches you off guard and you bump against him. You scratch the bridge of your nose with a slight frown from the impact. The dimly lit hallway made it a slight challenge to read the nameplate but you managed to make out ‘O’Hara’ and with that, your stomach drops.

“Um… Miguel, this isn't my room…” 

The door opens. The room is pitch black. 

Miguel makes his way inside. His red eye glows before he commands; “Sit.” 

Fear brought you to sit on his bed, not a crease in sight which only struck your fear deeper into you. You could hear your heartbeat, terrified for what's to come. The worst thing Miguel could do would probably chew you out in the comfort of his room, away from any possible witnesses, and then maybe take you out of commission for a while as your punishment. 

You gulp as the man sets something beside you. It was a box, hard to make out what it was but it seemed heavy. Miguel clawed and the large hand extends towards you and you screw your eyes shut, hell did you pray to any god that was willing to listen to you so please please please-

“Bring your face closer.” 

Huh?

Cautiously, you open your eyes to Miguel’s face inches away from you, a warm light bathes over his features, making the lines of worry and fear evident. “Let me see your wounds.” 

You blink, once, twice, owlishly, making the man before you sigh and cup your jaw softly. He turns your face to inspect it before he brings his other hand which wipes your fringe away from covering any other possible wounds. 

He hums. “Looks like just scratches.” 

The mystery box turns out to be a first aid kit. Miguel flicks it open and rummages around in it before he pulls a couple of bottles and bandages out. 

“Take off your suit top, we need to treat that burn before it gets worse.” He demands. You cough before awkwardly peeling off what's left of your suit before dropping it on the carpeted floor. You need to get that repaired.

You couldn't bear to meet Miguel's eyes. Not when he’s kneeled in front of you, his usually intimidating body looking small as he’s hunched over. He looks tired, his frown is a mixture of worry and annoyance, but there is something beneath it. Something you don't dare to think about but you know. You always knew. From the first day, you finally managed to see that crack in Miguel’s hardened exterior, you’ve been scared to make another move toward him. Behind this wall of a man, is a heart guarded with spikes and what he has in his eyes right now as he’s wrapping a cooling pad around your arm is something that petrifies you. 

“Next time you’ll be doing missions with me and me only. I won't be assigning you to any other spiders until you learn to take care of yourself,” He huffs, unveiling another roll of bandages.  He pulls at your shoulder which makes you turn slightly. 

"Fucking hell, ¿cómo puedes ser tan descuidado? You run around saving everyone else but who’s going to save you, huh?" He huffs, wrapping the last of the bandage slightly too tight which makes you wince. He notices but does nothing. 

Once again, he holds your chin between his fingers as your gazes suddenly meet. Miguel growls with how you won't meet his eyes, firmly pointed anywhere but into Miguel’s red eyes. He sighs before letting you go as he takes out some ointments. He puts the substance on your cheek and under your slowly blackening eye, then down your jaw where you know a pretty bad bruise taints your skin. You feel his movement slow before his hand rests on your nape, sending jolts of warmth through your body.

“Cuídate, ¿eh? Cuídate." His voice devastatingly soft. 

Confusion and a steady wave of feelings start at the bottom of your heart, which only worsens as you finally find the courage to look at Miguel. To your surprise, his eyes are wider than usual, pools of crimson oozing with care as he scans your features. His thumb rubs at the base of your skull. “I can't lose my right-hand man.” 

He sighs. “Please, necesito que estés seguro por mí,"

You inhale sharply. Without realizing it, he's practically inches away from you. Your heart races, beats out of your control when Miguel rubs your nape again. 

“Miguel…?” 

A beat passes. Silence. 

Before Miguel growls roughly and promptly stands, taking the med kit with him. He makes his way to what you assume was his wardrobe. Panic rises beside you, making you wave around your hands. “I- Um- Miguel please I didn't mean to- Oof!”

Something was thrown at you. Something soft and large and is this hit shirt and… boxers?! 

“Change your clothes. You can't sleep in those.” Miguel points out, his scowl now a pout on his lips. 

“But-”

“I'm not saying this twice.” He growls before he slides into the bathroom and leaves you in his bedroom along with the pile of his clothes in your arms. 

You slowly look down at what you're holding. Carefully, you slide off what's left of your suit and drop them in a discarded pile before pulling on Miguel's clothes. To no one's surprise, you're practically drowning in the shirt. His boxers barrel fits you and the first goes over your tighs easily. You feel smaller even for your height and stature, but it feels… safe. 

The door of the bathroom slides open to reveal Miguel standing with slightly damp hair as he's drying it off with a towel and in nothing but gray sweats. Something grows within you and it’s definitely something else besides your heart. 

“Ah, you're done,” He glances toward you before setting the towel down neatly. He saunters to the side of his large bed, pulling the covers off before sliding in. An arm keeps the cover slightly open, before he raises an obvious brow.

“Get in here and sleep,” He huffs. 

You jump and quickly slide beside Miguel, careful to keep an inch of a distance. But that was deemed unsuccessful when the man beside you pulled you to his side, and his arm wrapped protectively around your middle which made you drape your hand over his chest. Before you can squirm, he locks his chin over your head with a content sigh. 

Shit, he really is a giant lion. You sigh. 

“Sleep. You need your rest to heal.” Miguel’s voice purrs through you while you're practically glued to his side. You chuckle slightly before pressing a peck just below his jaw.

“You sleep too.” You smile. “Good night Miguel.” 

You hear Miguel hum before he presses his lips to your crown. “Good night.” 

Translations:

how can you be so careless? = cómo puedes ser tan descuidado

Take care, huh? Take care of yourself. = Cuídate, ¿eh? Cuídate.

I need you to be safe for me, = necesito que estés seguro por mí,

Reblogs are appreciated <3