#while sick and drinking some hot comforting stuff | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

paddockbunny · 2 years

Text

Repeat Offender

Summary : Charles is recently single and quickly finds himself in a "friends with benefits" situation with none other than his ex-girlfriend's best friend.

Rating : 18+, Mature

Pairing : Charles Leclerc x Reader

Word Count : 7, 345

Trigger Warnings : 18+, Mature & Adult themes, Angsty, FWB situation, PinV sex, Unprotected sex, Oral (female receiving), slight choking, c*m talk & language

Authors Note : Firstly, I had around five or six requests for a newly single charles or rebounding charles so I've amalgamated them all into one. Thank you for the inspo to all of those who requested something to do with this. I'm trying out some first person stuff on this one so although it's labelled as "reader" YOU are in fact the author/reader if that makes sense. I also don't mention Charles' ex by name and that is very much on purpose as I keep my blog as IRL WAG free as possible so none of my stories will feature any of their names, hope you can all understand why. Anyway, this is LOOOOOONG so it has not been proofread yet.

You know when you wake up but your not fully awake yet, you’re like conscious but not alert? Well, that was exactly how I was feeling as the room was ever so slightly spinning and the faint memory of strawberry daiquiri's and vodka shots were beginning to flash across my eyes. So was the deafening sound of the music, the ache in the arches of my feet from stupid heels and the feeling of hands creeping around my waist pulling my ass against a firm crotch while dancing. Then as I slowly crept more and more into consciousness I felt the slight ache from my thighs kick in and the feeling my body had been through it.

Finally, after summoning up the energy to do it, I managed to open my eyes. They felt heavy and dense and I realised there was no way I had made it home because I had slept in my make-up - and regardless of whatever state I was in I would always manage to stumble into the bathroom to at least wipe most of the night out greasepaint off of my face so the fact it was still firmly in place meant the worst. As my vision was struggled to focus I wriggled around in a rather comfortable bed and attempted to pull myself up without a wave of nausea lash upon me. Exactly how much did I fucking drink last night? But then as eventually my eyes concentrated on something and a very loud groan reverberated from my throat. The familiar bright coloured art work that hung from the white wall across from the bottom of the bed was like a vicious, unwelcome enemy. I had studied it far too many times to count and each time it got worse and worse. It was like the eyes of T. J Eckleburg in The Great Gatsby, but instead of the judgment of an inanimate object upon American society, this horrendous painting was judging my piss poor decisions of the night prior which lead me to waking up in this damn bed, once again. And as my stomach lurched I had to force myself to make sure I was in the bed of the man whom the awful painting belonged to.

At an almost glacier pace my head began to turn. Crawling up the sheet clad outline of a pair of calves, knees and up to big, broad thighs and into the covered - yet barely - crotch. The outline of his cock almost visible through the white cotton that was practically failing to protect his modesty. His hips were next, then the outline of abs which yeah ok - I can admit it, I’ve traced with my tongue before so sue me. Then I couldn’t do it any longer. I was just drawing things out. I snapped my head immediately up to his and yup! It was Charles.

“Oh fuck!” I groaned loudly and with an eye roll I drew my hands over my face. Listen, you might be thinking “he’s fucking hot as hell, probably an incredible shag and I’d love to know how big his cock is” but, it’s all the other stuff that goes along with these nights of drunken yet passionate sex with Charles that makes me sick to my stomach each time I wake up here. You see Charles had so much awkward baggage that spilled over into my own life and I really went through several stages of self loathing when I left his apartment and had the embarrassing walk of shame home the next day. “Good morning to you too.” He scoffed loudly but by this point I knew he probably felt as guilt-ridden and dismayed as I felt.

Silence had momentarily befallen us. All I heard was the quick typing of his thumbs hitting his phone screen. It was almost annoying. That incessant tap, tappy tappy tappy, tap, tap as he typed whatever was in his head into a text or whatever he was doing. I couldn’t help it, I rolled my eyes and thought how likely it was that he was probably texting one of his friends telling them how the pair of us had hooked up AGAIN! Most likely he was asking for their advice on how to get me out of his bed. Not that he needed any because there was no way in hell I felt like staying. I wanted to get out of here as badly and he wanted to kick me out. Just as I moved to sit upright a bit more and try search for my stomach lurched and I had to take a few deep breaths not to feel the effects of last nights alcohol. Something which unfortunately Charles noticed and as he asked if I was suffering from a the dreaded hangover, sarcasm laced thick in his voice.

“Why does this always happen? Why do we do this?” I sighed while letting out a long, drawn out exhale. The question hung in the air and I could feel Charles’ eyes suddenly burrowing into the side of my head. I knew there were words teetering on the tip of his tongue and could practically hear his brain working out a response that sounded appropriate for me but thankfully, he remained in silence. There was no doubt he would have been regretting whatever things happened last night as much as I was and yet, he didn’t seem particularly consumed by guilt. He seemed rather carefree right now so scoff I closed my eyes in an attempt to piece the puzzle together remember what the fuck happened last night.

The music was far too loud but the fourth fruity cocktail I currently clasped in my hand made me rather immune and numb to it. I danced just like all the other girls out in the middle of the crowded dance floor. Hips swaying side to side in time with the rhythm. Hair swishing around without a care in the world. Feet aching in stupid stilettos. To have looked at me in that moment anyone would be forgiven for thinking I was a party girl. One of those glamorous girls always out on the town, partying, blowing cash (boys and snow* too probably) but really I hated going out. I hated the stress of finding something to wear, doing the whole routine of make-up and hair and then feeling like I was in the middle of a cattle market. At least the men in Monaco happened to be rich and therefore no girls spent a dime all night from all the free drinks that would get bought. And the fact that someone in my group always seemed to know someone else in another and that meant VIP was inevitable. And I mean come on, who wouldn’t want to be sat in VIP?! Which was funnily enough, where Amelie was pulling me in the direction of and then I sighed when I saw why.

Sat in a booth was none other than Charles and his gang of buddies that I really wish would have been anywhere else in the world tonight and not in this nightclub. As soon as he looked around and saw me heading toward him I swear he rolled his eyes.

“Fucking hello to you too Charles.” I thought, muttering under my breath while I and rolled my own eyes back at him sarcastically. And that was when my mind flashed back to the last time we saw each other. It had been at that shitty dinner where I actually felt sorry for him having to sit the whole night flashing googly eyes at his ex girlfriend hoping she would notice him even though the night before he had had his cock shoved down my throat, me! The one he spent the entire time ignoring. But the thing was, I knew one thing he didn’t and that was she was already moving on with someone who might have been too close too home for him to even comprehend. Yet, with his attitude I said nothing and allowed him to remain in purgatory. Sad thing was, she never even so much as glanced at him the whole meal. Then I remembered what happened after, once everyone had drank heavily and shared cars home. It hadn’t been the first time (nor the second, third or fourth and was actually more like the eleventh or twelfth) that Charles had put the moves on me and I stupidly succumbed to his seductions. But now as I reached the table the thought of his hands being between my thighs, his fingers caressing my desperate clit with the door to his apartment wide open behind us in an utterly voyeuristic display - one that I would never have pegged him as the type to enjoy - danced teasingly through my thoughts. He slid into the booth a little more and nodded in the direction of the now vacant faux leather seat beside him for me to sit in. He looked good tonight and for once that wasn’t the alcohol in my system talking. He seemed to be in good spirits and I figured he must have been celebrating a good race. It was neutral ground so I thought it was something I could talk to him about. When I went to open my mouth to do exactly so, my words were swallowed by his; “Have you seen her recently?” Your mouth parted slightly before closing. You had to bite your tongue before you said something to the effect of “fuck off” or “fuck you” and quickly shook your head to respond to him. Then loudly from across the table one of his friends shouted loudly “shots” and thankfully it distracted Charles from pushing the conversation toward her like he wanted.

Several shots were taken and yet another strong strawberry daiquiri was being drunk while having as everyone sat at the table has as much of a conversation as possible over the loud thumping music. I raised my voice as I leaned forward to answer one of the questions Charles’ friends had asked me. We had met before and yet he did that typical male thing of forgetting who I was and therefore I had to tell him all over again much to my slight annoyance and dismay. But as I was explaining what I did for a living, I stuttered when suddenly I felt the flesh of soft fingertips ghost up and down my bare naked thigh. The action almost made me brake my calm, collected exterior. He couldn’t be serious? We had barely spoken since I sat down nearly an hour ago and as his thumb stroked up and down the skin of my inner thigh I glanced at him. He wasn’t even paying attention, he was doing it just for the sake of it, because he could. And so without a single thought I decided it was time to go and dance again. I wanted to put distance between him and I because we would only end up doing what was by now becoming a habit and falling into bed together.

As I grabbed Amelie and pulled her back to dance with me, I could feel the familiar pulsating throb from between my thighs at the thought of Charles. I tried to push the thoughts of him out of my brain as I began dancing and yet, it was a pointless task as all I kept thinking about was how badly I needed him and how he melted all of my annoyed thoughts of him away with a simple touch of his damn hand. The worst part was, just as Amelie and I settled into moving our bodies one of Charles’ friends rudely pushed between us. I was just about to argue and tell him to get lost when I suddenly felt hands creep around my waist. I didn’t need to look to know who they belonged too and I realised the intrusion in between me and my dance partner had been orchestrated.

“Running away from me?” Charles purred against the side of my neck. Why did he do this? Every single time we saw each other he always got underneath my skin. I hated him for it but I felt powerless against him and his cocky seduction techniques. His hands gripped my waist tighter as he pulled me back so I was flush against him. Our hips moving side to side while he got all the friction of my ass grinding against his crotch. “We said the last time was the last time.” “No. You did.” His words were more direct than I would have expected them to be. Almost like he was annoyed at me for implying I was about to turn him down - as if I could if I wanted too, just having the teasing action of his clothed cock so close to where I wanted it would have had me making a public embarrassment of myself right here in a nightclub. And without warning he used those lingering hands to turn me around to face him. “Let me take you home.” “No, Charles. We cannot keep doing this.” The sheer fact that when I spoke to him he was looking at my mouth instead of in my eyes made me want to kick him in the shin for being so vexing. But right as I was trying to convince myself to stand my ground against him he cast his eyes across my body and fuck, the things it did to me when he looked at me like that. “Charles, we’re playing with fire….”

“So? We’ll both burn together.” He shrugged nonchalantly. And I suddenly realised how we were no longer dancing and simply standing staring at each other while everyone else around us continued. In a regular situation - when alcohol wasn’t coursing through my body clouding my judgment - I would have felt self conscious but right now all I could think about was the fact he wanted me so badly he was out here making bold declarations. For a second the fact his first words to me earlier were about his ex girlfriend entered into my mind and a fleeting crushing feeling passed through my soul. He just wanted me to release his tension, not because he ACTUALLY wanted me. I zoned out briefly as I thought of how bad I always felt the next day and considered if I was strong enough to do it again. But as I was contemplating his hand travelled up to my neck and he made me look at him and I was gone. I wanted him to make me feel good.

How he managed to get us both out of the nightclub so easily I had no idea. His hand was wrapped around my wrist guiding me past hordes of people and out toward an exit. It took all but two minutes until we were in the back of a car heading back to his. It seemed too swift to me, too well thought out and I realised that he was so arrogant because he knew I would say yes and probably pre-arranged the car to pick us up. In that second I knew I should have been so pissed off and angry that he would think I was that easy but I let it slip again because I knew I was using him as much as he was using me. I liked the momentary, fleeting high he gave me. I was like a drug taker, he was the drug, and I was willing to take the short hits when I could. So I was every bit as bad as he was. Charles normally didn’t behave to politely in the back of the cars we took as we went back to his. His hands would be roaming, following suit with his mouth. He always made sure to light the match inside of me before we even got to the safety of his apartment. The fact he could be caught out, someone could tell, seemed to always be the furthest thing from his mind and so tonight, it was different. He sat further away and kept his hands very much to himself. And when I couldn’t help but glance across the car toward him and watched as his jaw seemed to clench I swallowed while nerves buzzed through my brain.

As soon as we got to his apartment building Charles called for the elevator and I couldn’t help but feel the same attitude radiating from him. It was the same attitude he had in the car and I thought about turning on my heels and leaving immediately. I didn't even know how to read him. Which meant I was so caught in the thought of trying to work him out that I missed the ding of the lift stopping on the lobby and sliding open. It wasn’t until Charles practically purred my name and held his hand out for me from inside the elevator that I snapped back into reality due to the look that filled his eyes. You knew it all too well. It was self assured, cocky confidence. He knew I couldn’t turn him down, I couldn’t turn his cock down, I craved it and what he could do with it too much. And so when my high heel clad feet crossed the marble floor and passed the iron thread hold of the lift I felt the surge of excitement buzz throughout my body.

The pair of us rode the elevator is silence but my hand remained firmly gripped in Charles’ and his thumb was delicately running over the back of my knuckles. It would be almost fucking romantic if there was any smidgen of a “normal” relationship between us. Now that I had registered the buzz of excitement I also felt the more steady and familiar hit of anxiety that went with it. It was pre-sex anxiety - that realistically I had no reason to have, this wasn’t my first rodeo (certainly not with Charles) but I still had it anyway. The silence would have been deafening to anyone else but right now I was kind of thankful for it. I didn’t want to chat because if I did I would feel guilt and I really didn’t want to feel guilty about what my body craved and desired above all else. The short ride up to Charles’ apartment ended when the lift door slid open and he gently pulled me out behind him. Fuck, I wish I had drunk more. Alcohol would have banished the unfair apprehension I was feeling. I leaned against the wall while Charles opened the door with his key. The curve of his shoulders made my mouth water. The thought of kissing his thick, strong neck while hearing the sound of pleasurable moans escape him sent a pulsating ache through my core. He pushed open the door and held it there with his hand, waiting for me to enter his abode first, ahead of him. And I mustered up all the confidence I could manage to saunter past him and glide into the hallway. The millions he took home from his career driving in fast circles paid off. Charles home was beautiful but like always, I wasn’t here to appreciate it.

Charles hands on my bare arms reminded me of that. He pressed against me from behind and I could feel his semi hard cock already straining against his jeans and I tried desperately to hold it back but a gasp escaped passed my lips as he moved my hair to the side to expose my neck to him. Fuck. The feel of his lips as they pressed delicate tender kisses against my flesh had my mind whirling. I pushed back into him more, instinct completely taking over, and a low groan rolled out of his parted lips and sent tingles up and down my spine. It was dangerous to have allowed myself to think it but I gave in and thought about how it would feel to have been his - properly, as a girlfriend - for all but a few fleeting seconds.

When Charles hands moved from my arms to my waist and I wasted no time. The alcohol came rushing back to me and I turned to him at breakneck speed. My lips finding his immediately. As my hands slowly glided upon the skin of his neck holding him to me. When I let out a small moan it was the sign he needed to start pushing me backward till my back pressed against a cold wall and his tongue pushed into my mouth. He tasted like the liquor he had consumed and as his tongue ran teasingly across my bottom lip he followed it with his teeth and it brought another moan from me, like he knew it would. Charles’ hands left my waist and I felt them slip down to my legs. His fingers skimming the outside of my thighs. I knew he wanted to push my dress up. He was growing impatient and that became very obvious when he yanked me away from the wall and pulled me through his house to his bedroom. The familiar surroundings welcomed me like a sneaky comrade. The walls practically smirked as I was pulled in by Charles. I could become accustomed to these plush surroundings if he saw me as more than a just a hook-up but that was a fucking dumb idea.

My dress was off faster than I knew what was happening. It was around my ankles on the floor and Charles was already making fast work of removing his shirt. His eyes hungrily fixed on my bare chest. He was practically wolf like as his eyes remained on my skin the whole time. I would have blushed if I had been less confident. “Take them off.” It was the first time he spoke since we had left the club. “You heard me.” He flashed his eyes down toward the thin scrap of black lace material that could barely behold the name of underwear. As my eyes travelled down to where his hands were working on ridding himself of his jeans I realised I wasn’t ready to allow him to have all the fun. “No.” I stated. “Take them off me.” My stomach flipped and I watched as a smirk disappeared from his face as quick as it appeared.

“That’s how you want it huh?” He abandoned trying to remove his jeans and his hand suddenly went to my neck and held me firmly before he used it to push me backward on to the bed. My heart hastily quickened. It hammered against my rib cage so quickly it began to hurt. I looked up at him full of expectation but he wasted no time in hooking his fingers around the sides of the only material left on my body and roughly pulling them down my legs and off completely. I watched Charles as he took me in. His eyes casting over and lingering in all the important areas. I bit my bottom lip as my own eyes mimicked his and I took in his perfectly sculpted chest and then his defined muscular abs. The lines on his hips that were line a tempting signal down toward his now erect cock, standing to full attention. He watched me watching him and cockily laughed. “Go on.” He tilted his head and I knew exactly what he was referring too. He wanted head. He wanted me to blow him. And I would have, I would have blown him till my jaw ached and throat couldn’t take anymore, but I reminded him that he wasn’t getting full control.

Much to Charles surprise, I pulled my ankles up and put myself on full display for him. I played him at his own game. If he wanted me to go down on him he had to do it first. I held his gaze and so when he laughed again I wasn’t so sure he was as willing to be a giver as much as a taker, but within a few agonising moments he proved me wrong. Charles was down on his knees and instantly pulled your legs up so you could rest them on his shoulders. And although it was something of an embarrassing confession to make, all of the times we had had sex, Charles had never gone down on me. Not once. So now that his head was between my thighs, mouth so tantalisingly close, eyes locked on to mine, I held my breath in anticipation. Charles gently ran his fingers up and down my dampening folds. I swallowed the breath that was caught in my throat as Charles finally licked a slow, teasing stripe that followed the pattern of his fingers moments earlier. He repeated the action over and over again. Using it to torment me. My hands grabbed hold of the sheets, fingers entwined in the high thread count duvet, when Charles began to pay attention to my pulsating, throbbing clit. Small, short flutters were mixed in with strong kisses. And then a loud exhale left my lips as he pushed two of his fingers inside me.

“Char….” I couldn’t get his name out. My breathing was erratic and all I could think about was what his mouth was doing. As his tongue continued lapping at my clit, his fingers curled up inside of me and Charles immediately found and started massaging that magical spot that made me gasp. And he continued even when I shoved my hands through his hair and gripped on for dead life. My eyes squeezed tightly shut as I felt the first high of an orgasm fast approaching. Swear words were all I could manage. My mouth going between wide open to get as much air as I possibly could and tightly shut with my top teeth digging into my bottom lip practically drawing blood. I was almost so lost in the beginning of the wave of euphoric pleasure that I missed the moan Charles made as he felt my walls start to convulse around his fingers. Fuck. How and why did I not beg for him to do this to me sooner? He was far too good at it. It was borderline obscene how good he was at it. And totally criminal that he had never gone down on me before. Right as I felt every nerve in my body begin to be ignited with the high of a climax Charles removed his mouth and in its place used the fingers of his other hand to draw rapid circles against my clit. The motion made me loose complete control of my mind and his name burst free from my mouth as wave upon wave of ecstasy crashed upon me. The high was undeniable. It took hold of my body and I felt myself quivering as he slipped his fingers out of me, covered in the product of my orgasm.

“Look at me.” Charles voice came quietly but strongly and I did as he requested. I opened my eyes and looked down at where he still remained, between my thighs. He held my stare as he ran the fingers he had brought me to orgasm with back up and down my now dripping folds. A small tremor shuddered through my thighs as he did so. And then with my eyes trained straight on his he raised his fingers to his mouth and licked them. It took a second to register the feeling that I felt in that moment but as he raised to his feet and I saw his cock rock hard, with its purpling tip already leaking pre-cum, I knew it was one that filled me with unashamed excitement. “Turn over.” He demanded and I relinquished the control I had won earlier so easily. Not because he wanted me too but because I wanted too. There was nothing in the world I wanted more than for Charles to fucking rail me into oblivion. I turned and got on all fours on the bed. Ass facing him. It was a position I had come to realise was one of his favourites. Sure he liked watching my boobs bounce as I rode him cowgirl and sometimes if he was feeling slightly more tired he’d fuck missionary, but Doggy was his favourite (like most guys). The momentary lapse of concentration earned me a firm thwack of his hand against the round flesh of my ass. I yelped and lunged forward and I felt the enjoyment radiating off of him. I doubted she let him do that, I doubted she would have enjoyed it. I moaned and after I wiggled my hips around a little he did it again so that a more audible whimper left my mouth.

“Fuck me…” I knew it was what he wanted to hear so I gave it to him. “Please, Charles….” I added more good measure and sure enough, he pulled my hips back and immediately ran his leaking cock over my sensitive folds to collect the mixture of his spit and my juices.

As he lined up at my entrance and pushed the head of his cock inside of me, teasingly slowly, I pushed back for more. It was an action that I knew he would have enjoyed and he groaned as he gave me more of himself. His hand splayed on my lower back and forced me down into the mattress more so I arched for him and then he gave me all of himself. He bottomed out and the stretch from his girthy cock had me once again gasping and gripping the sheets. He stalled for a moment - savouring the feeling no doubt - before he began moving. Slow at first. A steady but slow rhythm that I needed, rather than wanted, to quickly increase. Charles moaned loudly and paused for a second only to surprise me completely. “Your pussy is so fucking perfect. You, are so fucking perfect.” I knew he didn’t mean it in THAT way - he didn’t like me like that, I knew that and he didn’t even need to verbalise it - but his praise made me feel good all the same. I wriggled my hips again to urge him to move and when he did his pace increased. It increased until I was a panting writhing mess. I loved how big he felt at this angle and how he would alternate between giving me quick, short spanks and pulling my hair. And honestly I truly had to focus so I didn’t cum just yet. His cock continually hitting my g-spot could have made me see stars but I didn’t want to give in yet. I wanted more of him so I urged him on my moaning his name over and over and over again through heavy sighs. His hand wrapped itself around my hair once again and this time he pulled me back so my back was flush against him.

“Say my name again.” His voice was lower than I had ever heard it before. Lower than I ever thought possible. The hand that had been wrapped around my long hair was now around my throat, holding my in place against his body as he continued thrusting up into me. I couldn’t focus on words. I just kept thinking about Charles’ lips being on my neck and feeling how fast my heart was going through the vein they lingered upon. His teeth grazed the flesh and his name whimpered across my lips a few times before he finally called me a “good girl” and I almost lost my mind between that and the angle his cock was at. He had to know how close I was. He had to feel how my pussy tightened around his cock and I was beginning to struggle to keep going. His teeth sunk into my shoulder and he groaned as I couldn’t stop the orgasm that came thrashing down upon me. I grabbed his arm so tightly my fingernails would leave marks upon his skin. My whole body convulsed as finally I let go and let the climax take hold of me. The high Charles had given me seemed to be otherworldly and stratospheric. It took me to another fucking planet and none more so than when he groaned, gripped my hips and held me down in place while he himself, found release. I could feel the pulse of his cock inside of me as his hot, milky cum poured out of him. The feeling was insurmountable. The twitch of him as he filled me up seemed the prolong my orgasm even longer and when the shakes that ravaged my body became too much, I couldn’t keep my knees from giving way and so finally fell forward against the bed again. All I could hear was Charles and I’s heavy, exhausted breathing.

As Charles settled down beside me on the bed he ran his hands up and down my back. It was a rather tender, sweet motion for someone who had just railed me into oblivion but I didn’t mind it. Suddenly as I found myself lying still - still recovering from those two incredible orgasms - I felt the alcohol from earlier catch up on me. The room seemed a bit spiny and I really didn’t want to throw up anywhere in Charles all white apartment. But then - right on queue - with his breathing still laboured Charles asked if I wanted anything and suggested a towel and a glass of water. Not to sound like a broken fucking record but this was new, he had never done this before. He had never really spoken after we had fucked so this was totally left field. I nodded and said both would be nice if he didn’t mind.

“Ok, be right back.” I listened to his words but stayed in the same position as I had earlier - mainly because I was scared of being sick and because now I was completely exhausted but also because I didn’t want Charles’ cum to leak out of me and go all over his extortionate sheets. I thought the action of him going to get me things would have been nice for a normal, regular girl (y’know, one he was dating) but seemed unusual for him to extend such gestures to me, his fuck buddy, his hook-up, his piece of ass. When he finally came back clutching an ice cold glass of water and a warmed damp towel for me to clean up with I expected him to hand me my dress as well. But my dress remained on the floor and he stared down at me while I drank from the glass. “Let me.” He motioned when I went for the towel. Charles took the glass from me and placed it on the floor before crouching down there himself. I was about to question him, ask him what he thought he was doing, when he lifted one of my legs and slowly parted them. My breathing all but stopped as he dabbed at my slightly red, a little bit tender pussy with the warm cloth. I let out an unsteady, unsure exhale of air as he watched his cum slowly seep out of me.

“Hmmm….” He purred “I should have told you my pull out game is weak.” He chuckled and in that singular moment he made me laugh. He sat back on his heels and laughed with me and all of the nervous energy in my body disappeared. All I could focus on was the sound of his laughter and how much I liked it and in a different life I would have wanted to hear it every single day for an eternity.

I rushed to try and find my dress, hoping that he hadn’t torn this one like last time. I wanted to spend the least amount of time naked in front of him as possible now snapshots of last night began coming back to me. Charles observed from his place in bed. Watching me as I sprinted around to get back into last nights clothes so I could leave. As the sunlight streamed in through his window it bathed us both in the cold harsh reality of the day and it was very much bringing a self loathing vibe along with it. Suddenly a wave of riotous nausea flashed upon me and my head felt like it belonged in a vice. Through clenched teeth I rubbed my forehead from the searing pain screaming throughout it

“Can I get you painkillers?” His voice had turned soft and was rather strange because it wasn’t what I was used too from him - or was that the narrative my own brain made up for me to believe he was a metaphorical bad guy? “Don’t do that, Charles. Don’t be nice to me.” “Why?” He acted so innocent and I knew he was putting on a front, there was no way he could be so stupid. “Because!” I practically shrieked, “I’m your ex-girlfriend’s best friend and we can’t stop fucking each other.” “I think you’ll probably be her ex-best friend if she finds out about us.” FUCK! He really didn’t need to hit me with the reality stick right now. The smugness was almost woven through his voice and I had to restrain myself from throttling him. But in reality the cold light of day made me feel angry and disappointed with myself, something I doubted he felt about this situation at all.

“That’s not going to happen.” I snap back at him. “Because there is no “us”, there never will be an “us.” Your voice lowered and you knew it sounded sadder than you intended. It didn’t stop Charles from continuing however. “Right…..” he rolled his eyes “until you’ve had too many strong cocktails and vodka shots and then you won’t be able to say no. Just like you always.” With his words lingering in the air I had to fight the urge to yell at him that I was never the instigator and he was the one who always came after me. I desperately wanted to fucking correct him and scream at him that he used me to forget about his ex, about Ferrari, about all the pressures of the life he leads and that it was HIM that sought ME out, not the other way around. But for some unknown reason, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I didn’t want to start an argument with him. I pulled on my dress hurriedly once I found it, no longer wanting to be so naked in front of him. All I wanted was to get the embarrassing walk of shame back to my apartment over already. I busied myself from the silence by looking for my shoes and I almost missed Charles getting out of bed and getting dressed.

“I’ll give you a ride home.” I heard him say as I pulled up the covers and found my black heel under them at the bottom of the bed. I now felt uncomfortable in his presence after the last words he spoke. Instinctively I told him; “It’s fine, I’ll call an Uber.” “I’m not suggesting. I’m telling.” He stated bluntly and this was new, this had never happened before. He was rarely awake when I slunk out the door of his apartment - because it was always his apartment or hotel room never mine - so this was completely foreign to me. “If you’re sure.” I half expected him to say of course he didn’t mean it, laugh, explain he was messing and to call that Uber immediately. But he just nodded and picked up my other heel from beside the door and held it out to me. I tried to avoid his eyes. I didn’t want him to see any emotion at at all behind mines so I took the shoe and shoved it on to distract myself.

We didn’t speak the whole ride to my apartment. The silence was only somewhat uncomfortable but for some strange reason things felt rather calm. Sitting in the passenger seat of Charles’ Ferrari - which I had never before sat in - felt somewhat surreal. I was hyper aware that the seat still practically bore another girls name. It still belonged to her and he would have her back without so much as blinking. I kept my eyes on the roads as Charles expertly drove the expensive luxury vehicle around them. Hoping the red lights would turn green as soon as we approached them.

“I do like you, y’know?” Came abruptly from Charles mouth when we turned onto my street, my apartment building in sight. I thought my ears were deceiving me so I broke my trance and glanced at him. “I know you probably think you’re just a rebound or….” He trailed off as he put the blinker on to pull over into the lane he could stop in to let me out. I could see the front door to my building and I had never seen a more welcome sight. “…but it’s not like that.”

I was desperate to ask what it was in fact like, what exactly he thought was going on but thankfully he brought the car to a stop and I could finally jump out and escape the awkwardness. There was this uneasy feeling in the car that hit me like a led balloon and right in the middle of my chest. I hated it. I wasn’t used to it, especially not with Charles. I was used to feeling annoyed, frustrated and fuck, disappointed by him. The first few times we fucked I’d have said I felt used but that went away because I enjoyed our trysts as much as he did. And besides I didn’t need validation from him. I didn’t need him to need me. But then right now, as I waited to get out of the car with my hand on the door handle, it hit me how badly the words he had just spoken were actually all the things that I craved and desired above all else and it was startling. Then Charles said my name so gently, totally unlike he had ever said it before, and I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. “I’d like to take you out sometime, properly. On a date.”

But before I knew what I was even doing I pulled the handle, pushed the door and started getting out of his car. He yelled my name so I would stop and for a second I did but I couldn’t bring myself to do it, to fall for him. “You know that can’t happen, Charles.” I managed to say in something struggling to be above a whisper “you don’t want me, you don’t even really like me, you’re still in love with her.”

The elevator ride up to my apartment felt like it took an eternity. The words he had spoken rang throughout my head as if a bomb had gone off and I was momentarily deaf. Fuck him. Fuck his bullshit and fuck how I fucking felt right now because of him. I was right for telling him that he was wrong and he still loved his stupid ex but it hurt because being with him always did. Being picked up and dropped all the time hurt. I wanted to be one of those girls who would have fallen for his words, whose stomach flipped when he told them he liked them, but I wasn’t and mines didn’t. I knew it was just about sex. I wasn’t his type. I wasn’t right for him. I’d never be his girl….and yet as the doors opened to my floor, I couldn’t wait till the next time I could fall asleep beside him and hate myself for it the next day.

*snow = cocaine

2K notes · View notes

spenceragnewfics · 3 months

Note

Could you do a sick fic? Where either spencerbor yn gets sick and the other takes care of them?

Sorry this is so short but I hope you enjoy!

SICK DAY | Spencer Agnew X F!Reader

TW: None I can think of

Word Count: 663

Description: Spencer hates being sick, but thankfully, he has Y/N to help him get better

Spencer HATES being sick. There was nothing more inconvenient than being sick, especially when you have his job. He has no idea how he got sick, everyone he’s been around has been healthy as far as he knew. It doesn’t change the fact that he is laid in bed, tissues all around, different cold medicines on his nightstand, and very congested Spencer.

Luckily, he has Y/N. The woman has been taking care of him all day. Making sure he had plenty of tissues, medication, and was comfortable. Also, she’s made sure he’s had no Kickstart.

“Y/N! I’m sick! I should be able to,” He’s cut off mid sentence as he coughs, “be able to drink whatever I want.” He whines, looking at his girlfriend with sad eyes. She doesn’t budge, “You need electrolytes and plenty of water. Not caffeine and buckets of sugar.”

Spencer rolls his eyes before coughing more. Y/N kisses his forehead then looks at him, “You’re not too hot. Do you feel cold?” He shakes his head, pulling the covers off of him.

Crawling into the bed, she leans against the headboard as she pulls him against her chest. He wraps his arms around her as she starts to play with his hair. “Wanna watch Star Wars? It always helps to watch your favorite movie while sick.” She says, looking at him. “Yeah, start from the first one?” He asks as she laughs. “Anything you want, Spence.” She says as she pulls up the first Star Wars movie.

About half-way through the third movie, Spencer is cuddled against her side in a deep sleep. Moving slowly, she moves him to lay down on his side as she gets off the bed.

Kissing the top of his head, she starts to clean up around the area. Picking up empty water bottles, making sure all the tissues are in the trash can, and checking the medicine to make sure he’s taking it like he needs to.

Once the area is clean, she goes to the kitchen to grab some Gatorade then heats up some chicken noodle she made earlier in the day. Walking back to their bedroom, she sets the food down on a table before walking over to him.

“Baby, I need you to wake up. It’s time to eat and take your meds.” She says gently as she shakes him. Spencer groans, not wanting to wake up as he cuddles Y/N’s pillow. The action makes her smile as she plays with his hair, “Please, it’ll make you feel better.” Leaning down, she kisses his cheek then eyes which wakes him up a little.

“Hey, sunshine.” She teases as his blue eyes open. “Hey, sunshine.” He says, voice full of sleep. “You need to eat and take your meds.” He groans before sitting up. She brings over the food, setting it in front of him.

Spencer eats then takes his medicine. Y/N sits there with him, making sure he’s doing what he needs before taking the stuff and walking back to the kitchen. When she gets back, Spencer is laying back down continuing where he fell asleep with the movie.

When he sees her, he opens his arms, wanting her to cuddle and who is she to deny a sick man’s request. She climbs back into bed and pulls him to her chest, getting in the potion they were before.

“Thank you for being my nurse.” He says against her chest, slowly starting to fall asleep again.

“It’s not a problem, especially when I’ve been able to keep you away from your phone all day so you can’t see any chaos.” She teases as his eyes widen. “Oh shit, I need to-”

“Nope, you are going to sleep. You can deal with any hypothetical chaos later.” She says, securing her arms around him. He doesn’t protest as the room goes quiet except for the sound of the movie. The couple falling asleep in each other’s arms.

#smosh #smosh cast #smosh games #smosh mouth #smosh pit #spencer agnew #spencer agnew x reader #smosh imagine #smosh x reader #fluff #spencer agnew fluff #romance #spencer agnew imagine #imagine #romantic #spencer agnew fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #youtube

105 notes · View notes

brooooswriting · 1 year

Note

sam carpenter x reader (already established) where reader defends sam from people that believe in the rumors. maybe at sam’s job?

thank youuu

Bartender and murderer

Sam Carpenter x reader

You loved visiting Sam at her job, the bar she worked at was quite nice, the drinks were good and she looked incredible hot while mixing drinks. On slow days she’d stay by your side as long as she could and you’d talk about your days and other stuff, if it was full you were fine with just watching her. Sometimes you were annoyed by the other costumers, some were rude to her for things that weren’t even her fault. It was hard for you to just sit there at those moments but she could handle herself, you knew that. Others would flirt with her the whole time, also not your prime time. You’d sit in your chair and sulk until she walked by so you could pull her towards you and kiss her in front of them.

But today was different, Sam had a bad day, you knew that. She woke up with a headache, Tara was mad at her for no reason because she didn’t get enough sleep, her coworker called in sick which resulted in her having to work a double shift. It was shitty, you were supposed to go on a date tonight. Which made her mood even worse. But you decided to visit her anyway, it might not be the best date but any time spend with her was good enough for you.

It was busy today so you sat at the end of the bar and watched her working, waiting for her break so you could finally comfort the stressed girl. There were two girls starring at her the whole time which annoyed you deeply. It wasn’t new that people started at her she was hot and you were obviously not the only one who thought so. When Sam walked around the bar, waters in hand and nodded towards the door you quickly stood up and followed her outside the front door. She was leaning against the brick wall, waiting for you to arrive.

“Hello pretty girl” she grinned as her arms wrapped around your waist to pull you closer, her lips pressing soft kisses to your lips. Your hand rested against the side of her neck, your thumb stroking the side of her jaw. She parted and gave you one of the waters, knowing that drinking alcohol dehydrated you. You were about to say something when her coworker showed up at the door.

“Sorry to interrupt Sam but the boss wants you back inside” his voice was apologetic and he was quick to disappear to give you your privacy back. You stood up on your tippy toes to press another kiss to her lips before you parted from her. “Let’s go back inside. I don’t want your cute ass to get fired” you laughed and walked away. She was on your tail, laughing about what you said before overtaking you to open the door for you.

By the time you got back your seat at the bar was taken so you settled for a booth in the corner next to the two girls who had been starring your girlfriend down. They didn’t seem to notice you settle down directly behind them as they just kept taking.

“I can’t believe that they are letting a murder work here in a bar, together with drunk people” one of them said causing you to freeze. Your eyes focused on the girls as if you could kill them with your look, but you decided to wait it out. They haven’t said her name yet and maybe, just maybe, they were talking about someone else.

“Yeah, I mean she killed her boyfriend and about 7 other people. That’s crazy. She’s crazy! She should have stayed in woodsboro, New York is already unsafe enough” The other spoke up, leaving no room for you to think that they were walking about someone else. Your blood boiled and you were about to stand up when the girl whose back was to you started talking again.

“I know. The poor girl she just went out with. I bet she’s dead, she probably intoxicated her with the drinks here and then bam. She killed her, I wouldn’t be surprised” that was enough for you. You stood up nearly throwing over the table and walked over to the booth beside you. You were furious, you just saw red which wasn’t typical for you but very much understandable right now.

“I’m the girl she went out with and I’m neither intoxicated nor dead. And I would appreciate it if you didn’t say stupid shit like that about my girlfriend” you told them as nice as you could. This took up all your self control. You were starring them down, one of them was slowly sinking into her seat while the other one flared back.

“Then you’re not even a small tad better than that murder” she said while standing up and throwing a drink at you which made you gasp. You had seen it happen to Sam quiet often lately but it has never happened to you. The anger was radiating off of you, everybody close enough could feel it. And even tough you were about 10 centimeters smaller than her, way less muscular and slimmer, nobody could hold you back.

You took all your knowledge about football and all your experience in American football together and tackled her to the ground. Due to the moment of surprise, it was easy to overpower her. You sat on her hips, holding her down while one fist connected with the side of her face. She screamed, probably more in surprise than anything else but she screamed nonetheless which gave you a bit of satisfaction.

“You crazy bitch” she screamed back trying to get out of your grip but the adrenaline made you stronger than you normally were. A crowd had already formed around you which distracted you for a moment, it gave her the opportunity to roll you two over. She was quick to deliver a punch to your gut and your face, looking all smug about it. The anger you felt seemed to give you superpowers as you turned the whole thing again but this time you held her arms up with both of your hands.

“Do you know that you’re ruining her life? There are four people who witnessed everything! They all said that she wasn’t ghostface and that she defended them! She had to fight against somebody she fucking loved and people like you are reminding her of that. Every. Fucking. Day. Do you get how fucked up that is?! You are sitting here letting her serve you while you accuse her of murdering not just the people in woodsborrow but me too?” Your hand squeezed her wrists tighter and tighter with each sentence. You looked up to see the one on the bench look down in shame which you counted as a win.

“Fuck you” the girl grunted as soon as you stood up. Before you could even react her fist connected with your cheekbone, you could immediately feel the swelling. “And fuck your psycho girlfriend” she added, you knew she was just trying to fuel you on and it worked like a charm.

You got one or two good blows too before someone finally stepped in. You could feel her nose breaking under your fist which made you cringe, you weren’t the biggest fan of violence. The girl whose been sitting in the booth the whole time was pulling her friend away, the look she gave you was full of sympathy and it was apologetic. But in that moment you didn’t care, you just wanted to make the girl regret what she said about your girl.

Sams coworker stepped in before you could charge at the girl again. He put his hand on your shoulder, hoping it would calm you down. Which it didn’t. You were about to get away when a tall figure suddenly appeared in front of you and threw you over it’s shoulder, it was Sam no doubt. She carried you outside where she put you down again. It was silent for a second.

“What the fuck y/n? What were you doing there?” Sam asked, carrying anger herself. You grumbled some words while kicking some stones around like a five year old who didn’t get what he wanted. It annoyed Sam even more that you were acting like a child, her eyes rolling as she watched you acting like that. She waited nonetheless, she knew you’d open up eventually.

“They were starring at you” you finally said with a huff.

“Y/n, we talked about this. I’m sorry you’re jealous but you can’t-“ she started annoyed that you’d act like this because of your jealousy.

“No Sam! They were starring at you, talking about how you’re the murder of woodsboro! They said that you intoxicated me and tried to murder me. God Sam, they implied that you’d take advantage of me” you explained, pacing up and down the street. A habit you developed when you didn’t know how to deal with your emotions. “I knew that it’s not the 19th century anymore and I don’t have to defend my girls honor but I’m not letting anybody treat you like that. I couldn’t let them spread rumors like that, I already hate the fact that these other rumors exist” you continued.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t know” she mumbled, hating the fact that her past was the reason you get into fights.

“Don’t” you walked closer to her, your hand carefully finding her cheek, “don’t do this to yourself! You’re a great person who’d do anything to protect her family” you told her and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek.

“I love you” her voice was soft and loving while her hands slid under your shirt and pulled you closer, her skin warming yours. “I love you too” you mumbled and pressed a kiss to her lips before parting.

“I’ll call Chad so he can pick me up okay? You work your shift and then come home so we can have the rest of our date” you pressed another kiss to her lips, she hummed and pulled you even closer. When your lips parted you took a moment to stay in each others arms.

When you parted you texted Chad to pick you up, Sam didn’t want you walking alone at night. When he arrived he quickly said hi to Sam before turning to you. “What happened to your hand?” He asked at some point, suddenly coming to a halt.

“I got into a fight because two girl called Sam a murder” you said nonchalantly, your shoulders shrugging which made Chad grin. “Nice” he only added and gave you a high five before continuing the walk.

#reader insert #brooooswriting #sam carpenter x y/n #sam carpenter #sam carpenter x you #sam carpenter x female reader #sam carpenter x reader #melissa barrera x reader

413 notes · View notes

persephoneflowerpetals · 1 year

Text

Disney Hades x Pregnant Reader Headcanons

Back at it again with some more headcanons lol! I simply adore my f/os being all domestic, so this was really fun to write! And as always, these headcanons are pretty self indulgent lol. Enjoy!

He doesn’t believe it at first because he’s so in shock, so once you tell him you’ll have to say it again for him to really get it lol

He kinda always wanted an heir to his domain (even though he complains about hating the place and wanting to rule on Olympus instead)

Now that he knows you’re pregnant he’s all about preparing for the baby to come

He gets a little nursery ready and attempts to baby-proof the place as much as he can (he’s not completely successful since the underworld is so big and dangerous, but he wants to make sure the baby stays safe when it starts learning to walk and crawl)

He also comes up with tons of names for the kid and will constantly suggest them when they pop into his head

“Hey, babe. How does Dionysus sound? A girl name? I dunno, I’m still thinking about that, but it should definitely be a name as pretty as yours that’s for sure.”

This god is more than willing to become your faithful servant during your pregnancy

Got a certain craving that’s hard to find? Don’t even worry about it, he’ll find a way to get it for ya

Feeling sore and achy? One massage and living heating pad (aka him) coming up!

Also he won’t let you do much while you’re pregnant

No picking up heavy stuff, no chores, no work, only rest and relaxation for you

If you actually want to do some things he won’t let you do then just let him know, it’ll take some convincing because he’s stubborn and hard-headed, but he’s nuts for ya, so he’ll give in eventually lol

Also this god is super clingy when he learns you’re pregnant

He is by your side almost 24/7 to make sure you’re okay

He’s constantly checking on you and making sure you’re happy and comfortable (that’s mainly his anxious side coming out because he’s really nervous about having a baby)

Hades is gonna have a lot of pent up emotions about all of this (mainly anxious and apprehensive feelings), so you may want to talk with him about it if he looks stressed

He didn’t have the best dad growing up (I mean, he literally tried to eat him and his brothers) and he doesn’t know anything about kids or babies, so he’s really nervous that he’s gonna mess up and become a horrible parent to his kid

Please reassure him! He really needs to hear good things from somebody (especially you)!

If you start getting nauseous and getting morning sickness he’ll totally be there for you holding back your hair (if you have long hair lol), wiping your face, and giving you water

Also if you get sick somewhere he’ll get Pain and Panic to clean it up lol

And if you get sick on him by accident, well that’s okay too, he knows you can’t help it

This dude eats worms and spends his days with dead, slimy souls floating in a river, so he can handle some vomit lol

If you’re in “nesting mode” as he calls it and you just want to nap for most of the day then he’ll make sure the place is absolutely silent so you can rest

He may have Pain and Panic guarding the bedroom door while you rest if he has to work or go somewhere while you’re resting, but if they get too loud he’ll get angry

Honestly, if anybody’s too loud he’ll get angry and pretty much just roast them (if he ends up waking you up from that he’ll feel bad and profusely apologize)

He will wake you up when it’s time for a meal, though, but he’s alway super gentle about it

He’s constantly checking on you to make sure you’ve eaten or have had enough to drink, he wants to make sure you and the baby are healthy at all times

Not only does this dude dote on you, but he spoils you like crazy (as if he doesn’t already when you’re not pregnant lol)

Lots of soft, fluffy pillows and blankets for you to sleep on

Hot bubble baths so you can relax

Top quality meals

Anything you desire is yours, only the best for you, babe, no expenses spared

He always has to be touching your baby bump when he’s around you, it’s just the way he is

He’s a very handsy god, so he already touches you all time time anyways, but when you’re pregnant his hands are constantly on you in almost an overprotective way

Even while he’s sleeping with you he’ll just always have his hand on your belly as if it’s instinct

He also loves to “gossip” with the baby

He’ll lay with you while he rubs your baby bump and talks to the baby about his day or the other gods or stuff that ticks him off

“What do you mean they can’t hear me? Of course they can hear me! Now where was I? Oh yeah, so Zeus says-“

Oh and he totally freaks out when he feels his first kick

“Did you feel that!? They just kicked! What a little fighter, huh!? Gonna be tough just like their dad! I’ll have to teach you how to beat up kids on the playground!”

And if you think he’s all riled up now, you should see him when the baby comes lol

#hercules #disney #hercules 1997 #disney hades #hades #hades disney #hades hercules #disney’s hercules #hades x reader #disney hades x reader #x reader headcanons #headcanons #disney villain x reader #pregnant reader #domestic headcanons

616 notes · View notes

nwjn-z · 1 year

Note

Hello~ could I request Stan knocking on reader’s window in the middle of the night sad bc Randy’s being… Randy? So they go out to Stark’s Pond and sit on the bench while he rants and they drink n stargaze n stuff?

Late night confessions — feat. Stan Marsh x reader

warning(s): yelling, drinking, swearing

author’s note: OMG ANON IM SO SORRY I DIDNT UPLOAD THIS SOONER IVE BEEN REALLY BUSY, here you go tho i know it’s late asf but i hope you like it😞

It was 2:34 am, and the quite mountain town of South Park was in a peaceful slumber, but the Marsh household was anything but quite and peaceful.

“ALL YOU WANT TO DO IS DRINK AND MOPE IN YOUR ROOM ALL DAY INSTEAD OF HELPING YOUR FAMILY!” Randy seethes to his son.

“HELPING YOU WITH YOUR STUPID FUCKING WEED FARM ISNT HELPING THE FAMILY YOU DICK!” Stan spits back.

“You know what Stan? I am so sick and tired of your shit. You don’t do jack shit all day, you never want to help out with the family business, and when you do decide to help you always fuck up. You are going to get no where in life with this kind of attitude Stanley.”

All it took to push Stan over the edge was bringing up his future. Ever since starting high school, Stan biggest anxiety was what he was going to do with his life. The fear of ending up a “waste of space” kept him up at night.

“Seriously fuck you dad.” Stan sniffles as he storms out the house, wanting to be anywhere but “home”.

Stan gets in his car and makes his way to town with only his phone and wallet. He needed comfort right now. He needed to go somewhere that was familiar, somewhere that he felt safe at.

Stark’s Pond was special to Stan. Growing up it was his favourite place to be, where he hung out with his friends, where he had his first kiss, and where he had his few good memories with his dad.

But he didn’t want to be alone right now, he wanted to be with someone he could talk to, who would understand him, who could make him forget all about his problems, who could make him feel good no matter what, he needed you.

You were up late for no particular reason. It was summer so you were off your normal schedule. You mindlessly scrolled through your phone while the rest of your family was fast asleep.

When Stan made his way to your house he began to climb up on to your balcony. When he managed to do so he couldn’t help but stare at you through the space in between your curtains.

He saw you laying on your stomach swinging your legs back and fourth and holding a pillow to rest your head on while you where preoccupied with your phone.

You where so beautiful to him. You always had been since the day you two met. He loved your hair, your eyes, the way you talked, how you were always to quite yet kind, the way you made him feel so weak. He loved it all, he couldn’t get enough of you. He wanted nothing more than to make you his.

He continued to stare, looking longingly at you with hearts in his eyes until you noticed him staring and freaked out. He saw you jump and threw your pillow at your window before you realised it was him. You cursed him under your breath while you opened the curtain to open the window for him.

“You scared the shit out of me.” You told him,

“I’m sorry I just got distracted.” he replied.

“What are you doing here, it’s almost 3 o’clock!” You said,

“I know im sorry, I just really need someone to talk to I just had a huge fight with my dad and I don’t know where else to go.” He says as his mind rushes thinking back to the fight as he tries to hold back tears.

“Hey hey it’s okay I’m sorry, we talk if you want I’m here for you.” You say sincerely.

Hearing your sweet voice speak to him so gently after being yelled at and berated makes him break his composure and hot tears stream down his face.

You immediately pull him into you and caress the back of his head as he buries his face into your neck, holding on to your waist for dear life.

After some time he reluctantly pulls away and wipes his face.

“I came over to ask if you want to go to Stark’s Pond with me.” He mutters as he tries to compose himself.

“Let me get my jacket.” Is all you say in response wasting no time getting your jacket.

“We’re gonna have to leave through my window, I don’t want to wake my parents.” You say zipping up your jacket

“Okay” he says meekly.

You both make your way out your window with Stan helping you get down. You get into Stan’s car and he begins to drive.

As you make your way to Stark’s Pond, you can’t help but stare at him while he drives. He has one hand on the bottom of the stirring wheel and the other hand on the gear shift. His hands are rough from years of sports and roughhousing outside, yet whenever you felt them they were so soft.

Your daydreaming was cut short when he came to a stop and you realised you weren’t at Stark’s Pond.

“I’m gonna grab drinks real quick, you want anything?” he asked

“I’ll just have whatever you are having, even though you shouldn’t be drinking.” you say in disapproval of his habit

“Yeah I know but I kinda need it right now.” he responds somewhat bashfully.

“I guess” you say.

As you sit in the car waiting for him you start to wonder why he came to you. I mean you guys are close friends but you thought that him and Kyle were closer, that he would go to his childhood best friend for things like this. Right?

You aren’t left with your thoughts for long as Stan quickly makes his way out the store and back into the car.

He gets back into the car and after a couple of seconds he starts to drive again.

The convenient store wasn’t far from Stark’s Pond so you arrived fairly quickly.

“We’re here” Stan announces

You simply reply with a hum in acknowledgment and make your way out the car with him.

You sit down and he hands you a drink before cracking open his. You two sit in silence drinking until your thoughts from sitting in the convenient store parking lot make their way back into your head.

“Hey, why did you want to hang out with me of all people?” you say still leaning your head back staring at stars

“What?” He asks, almost dumbfounded

“I mean like why not Kyle or Wendy even, they’ve known you longer and probably better than I do so I just thought you would go to one of them for something like this.” you tell him honestly

“Do you not want me to come to you?” He asks, worry written all his face and voice.

“WHAT!? NO! I mean i just thought that like, you would think I wouldn’t be any help you know?”

“Nah dude that’s bullshit, besides why would I go to my ex about my problems.” he chuckles lightheartedly

“I don’t know I thought she would get you I guess.” you say as he shakes his head “no”.

“Oh well what about Kyle then, surely he’d be your first responder or something.”

“Kyle doesn’t know shit about me at this point, anytime I try and talk to him about the things I go through he just doesn’t get it.” he responds truthfully

“We’re still best friends and all but, he just doesn’t understand why I can’t just “get over it” you know? It gets really fucking frustrating.”

You take a minute to process what he said but before you can say anything he begins to speak again,

“You aren’t like that though. You’re always so nice and never make me feel stupid or crazy for feeling the way that I do.”

His words flustered you. Only you made him feel comfortable and safe? You felt your heart clench at the thought. Without thinking you put your hand over his and finally look over at him,

“I’m glad I can be that person for you.” You say sincerely with a smile on your face

And just like that Stan just couldn’t take it anymore. You were truly the most amazing person he has ever known. You’re sweet, kind, and genuine soul made his heart swell and his face smile. He couldn’t hold back the words that left his mouth in that moment,

“I’m so in love with you.” He says with hearts basically in his eyes.

“What!?” You respond eyes wide and face flushed

“WHAT?!” he yelps, “OH MY GOD IM SO SORRY I DIDNT MEAN IT LIKE THAT I MEAN I DID BUT NOT IF YOU DONT WANT ME TO AAAHH IM SORRY JUST FORGET I EVER SAID ANYTHI-“

“I like you too, well love.” you say honestly having waited for this moment for what felt like an eternity,

“Wait what?Really!?” Stan says, dumbfounded but simultaneously feeling his heart burst with joy

“Yeah dude” you respond with a lighthearted laugh, but before you could say anything else you felt the slight wetness of his lips on yours, relishing in the feeling you close your eyes and lean in, completely melting in his touch.

“You love me?” he asks smiling, wanting nothing more than to hear you say those three words over and over until he can’t hear anymore,

“I love you.” you say, more than happy to repeat that phrase till your voice gives out.

#south park #south park x reader #stan marsh #stan marsh x reader #stan marsh x y/n #stan marsh x you #stan x reader #stan marsh headcanons #stan marsh sp

161 notes · View notes

the1975attheirverybest · 7 months

Text

The First Time

A/N: sweet Ace ( @ughgoaway ) being sick and lacking sick fics has made me realize that every time I see a mutual fall ill, they, too, post about there being a lack of sick fics in 75blr land. That, and, the period fic I posted a couple of days ago wasn’t good so I’m giving yall this instead. feel better, Ace 💗 And also anyone who may be reading this while ill in the future.

Warnings: none.

Matty dabbed a few drops of aftershave around his neck and freshly shaved face, singing to himself softly. ”baby?” He called out to Amelia, turning the bathroom lights out and shutting the door behind him. “Do you think the no facial hair look makes me look boyish? I mean I’m nearly 35 I think-“ he stared at her, frowning, as she rummaged through her makeup bag. “Excuse me, what exactly do you think you’re doing?” “doing my makeup?”

“you’re not meant to be doing your makeup. You’re meant to be in bed. Resting.” He rushed over to her, placing his hands on top of hers to stop them in place.

“Matty, im fine!”

“you hear that ‘d’ sound that your blocked nostrils added to the end of ‘fine’? Yeah, that’s not meant to be there.” He stated emphatically. “You’re not fine-d”

She rolled her eyes, prying her hands out of his. “I have a meeting. I’ve been working on the designs all week. Todays the day we show it to them.”

“You can email it to someone else and they’ll fill in for you, can’t you?”

“Matty, Please-“

he moved in tandem with her, blocking her path every time she attempted to take a step.

“Get out of my way; please.” She rubbed her red nose.

“I can’t do that I’m afraid.” He shrugged. “Get back to bed.”

her arms crossed over her chest defensively, “I don’t want to and you can’t make me.”

“‘course I can, Darlin.’” Matty grinned, charming as ever. “I’m being gentle right now just cuz you’re ill and all that. But if I have to be rough, I will. Not letting leave the bedroom.”

“Matty-“

“You’re running a fever, baby.”

she could hear the concern in his voice. His determined features softened as he looked into her glassy, tired eyes. “Please, Amelia. I hate seeing you in so much pain.” His hands squeezed her shoulders. “Please, baby? Take care of yourself. Do it for me.”

*** Matty set a tray down on the nightstand. “Got you some tea. Careful it’s piping hot.” He warned as she reached for the mug, “right, shall we get you into something more comfortable?” from the dressed, he pulled out her favorite graphic tee of his, and a pair of joggers, proceeding to dress her. “oh my- this tea tastes like shit.” Amelia groaned, nearly spitting out the beverage. “I can put on my own clothes, you know.”

“it’s…medicinal. No caffeine or any of the good stuff.”

She stared at him, mouth agape. “what?”

“nothing, i just- never pegged for the kind of guy who drinks medicinal shit tea.”

“I don’t. Bought it on my way home last night cuz I noticed you sniffling.”

“you-“ Amelia placed a hand on her heart. “Aww, you noticed me sniffling?”

Matty crawled into bed next to her, pulling her into his arms. “Drink your shit tea. It’ll help.” He kissed her forehead. *** “Can’t tell if you’re crying or just sniffling.” He glanced down at her. “b-both.”

Matty’s brows shot up. “You’re cryin’? I was joking! Amelia, are you alright ? What hurts baby tell me please??”

“N-no, no. Nothing hurts.” She giggled, wiping her own tears with the back of he hand. “It’s good. Good crying.”

“what the fuck?”

She laughed again. “Okay, this is embarrassing, but…I used to fantasize about this.” She blushed at her own words. “When, you know….Back when we were fucking. I wished that you were my boyfriend. And whenever I would get the flu or something, I- would daydream about you being there. To comfort me. To look after me. And now…. This is the first time that either one of us has been sick since you asked me to marry you...i love you. That’s all.”

Matty’s heart fluttered. With her head resting on his chest, she couldn’t see the huge smile on his face. “loser.” He said. She jabbed her elbow into his chest. “Fuck off.”

he kissed her head.

“I’ll deny all this tomorrow. It’s the fever talking. None of it is real.”

he chuckled. “Amelia?”

“yeah?”

“I love you, too.”

*** Amelia’s eyes fluttered open, startled by the cool sensation over her forehead. She stirred, a damp wash cloth surprising her by falling off her head.

“s-sorry. Should’ve wrung it out a bit more. Did I wake you?” Matty whispered softly. she shook her head. Still half asleep, scanning her surroundings, trying to piece together the details. “you hungry? I’ve made soup”

she sat up, readying herself to receive the bowl, Matty promptly fluffing up the pillows and stacking them behind her back. “Thanks, my love.” She smiled up at him.

He watched her take her first sip, excitedly, then quickly looked away. “oh my god. Matty!” She squealed. Turning around, he hid his satisfied smile. “that’s- that’s my grandmothers recipe, isn’t it!”

Matty could no longer play it cool. He turned right back around hopping onto the bed next to her. “Yes, yes it is. Do you like it? Is it accurate? Called your sisyer. She helped me out.”

Amelia set down her spoon. Knowing Matty lived and died by her praise, this was a moment worth remembering. “Matty- I- if we weren’t already engaged, I’d ask you to marry me right now.”

#matty healy fanfic #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy fluff #matty healy x oc

81 notes · View notes

transmascaraa · 2 months

Note

Heyyy, Nyx! Can I request HCs for a sick!reader? I am currently suffering with a cold and would love some comfort stuff.

Characters: (Genshin) Lyney, Gorou, (Danganronpa) Makoto, Shuichi, and Rantaro

Thank you so much, and have a great rest of your day!! Mwah! 💖/p

multiple characters headcannons!

a cold.

characters: gi · lyney, gorou — dgr · makoto, shuichi, rantaro

author's note: your cold is probably gone by this time and all😭 so sorry for the lack of posts i literally have no motivation for some reason💀 but anyways i hope you enjoy this either way^^

♡ Lyney

-will do EVERYTHING to help you.

-tea is a MUST.

-breakfast in bed is also something he told himself he HAS to do.

-in case of magic shows or missions from 'Father' while you're sick, he'll cancel them.

-you're his top 1 priority along with his siblings and he wants to show you how much you mean to him.

-migt act totally fine outside but his brain is a mess cuz of how worried he is for your health.

-he'll cure you from your sickness 100% so you can trust him(but reassure him not to worry too much)

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

⑅ Gorou

-also gonna care for you like CRAZY

-"No working while they're sick." he told himself repeatedly.

-tea, of course.

-he'll bring the tea to your bed if it makes you feel better.

-same thing with breakfast. he wants you to feel better.

-not gonna let you leave your bed and doesn't give a fuck if you complain with 'puppy dog eyes' cuz he's just gonna leave the room

-will measure your temperature every day.

-he just wants it to pass asap.

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

✿ Makoto

-very similar to gorou, in fact.

-breakfast in bed with tea.

-cleaning everything for you.

-making you rest in bed until you're 100% as good as new.

-there's always tea. you've drank your morning tea and can't drink any more?

-don't worry, he's gonna always have hot water waiting in case you tell him you're thirsty

-no going out and if you want fresh air he'll have to be with you outside. FOR A SHORT TIME ONLY.

-otherwise he'll just open a window for you.

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

✧ Shuichi

-he'd be so worried but like won't show it AT ALL.

-NOT ONLY breakfast in bed, but also dinner and lunch.

-you ran out of candy/snacks? he's gonna go out and buy some of your favorites.

-everything you eat is with tea. whichever tea you like, he'll make it for you.

-no going out just to not make anybody else sick.

-you swear you've never known you had THAT MUCH tissue boxes in your house. but alright

-windows are almost always open for fresh air unless you feel cold.

-tucking you in AFTER you fall asleep because that's him for some reason.

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

✷ Rantaro

-a gentleman at heart.

-he's gonna drink tea WITH YOU in bed.

-he's gonna sit next to you while you eat breakfast(either in bed or not).

-will bring you whatever you need, like food, tea, blankets, pillows, etc.

-probably will spend your sick days with you in bed mostly.

-measuring your temperature whenever you look a bit tired, and kisses your cheek if you don't(if you do, he kisses your forehead)

-very trustworthy for stuff like this.

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

it's kinda good??

idk lmao

i hope you like it^^

| @run-dennys-is-on-fire | @mariaace <3 |

42 notes · View notes

flowerpotmage · 2 months

Text

Tight Grip, Broken Dam (18)

<< Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter >>

You don’t question it anymore, when Miguel appears in your bed at night. He’s not there for sex, no, you’ve never even kissed—though you would be lying if you said you weren’t open to the idea of kissing him. He’s there for comfort. For rest. If only it could stay so simple.

Pair: Miguel O'Hara & GN!Reader

Word Count: 3.5k

Read this chapter on Ao3 here. If you like my work, please consider leaving kudos there as well! You do not need an account to do so.

You’re tired and a bit sore the next morning, your makeshift bed on the floor less than ideal after your long night out. But that’s nothing new, really—you’ve woken in worse condition after a night of vigilantism on many a previous occasion. So you rise; go to the bathroom, and then to the kitchen to make breakfast–

Ah. You’re out of groceries.

You dress, head to the same cafe by your house as usual, and then venture onwards to pick up the bare minimum of groceries. You’ll figure out what else you need later, now that you’re going to have to go back to doing all of your own cooking (your chest clenches, ribs squeezing tight around your lungs like a child’s finger-trap toy) and you’ll only be cooking for yourself and your much lower standards.

You hastily shove that train of thought aside, sloppily put the groceries away, and shower. You have lunch with Karen soon, and a meeting with Ellison after, and you don’t want to smell like midnight vigilante dumpster alley encounters for either of them. You scrub away under the hot water, exfoliating and soaping and shampooing and conditioning—the tightness around your lungs and the lump in your throat urging you on as if achieving ultimate cleanliness will help reset the thing that aches inside. It doesn’t, of course, but there’s still some part of you that feels an awful lot better when you dry off, the scars across your ribs disappearing under your towel.

“I’m so sorry for canceling yesterday,” Karen says later when you’re seated across from one another at a small place between 7th and 8th. “Matt said you missed my text and came all the way up here.”

You wave her off. “It’s fine, really. Matt and I ended up getting sandwiches and then I spent the rest of the day at the park.”

She smiles, grateful for your apparent magnanimity. “Good, I’m glad the trip wasn’t for nothing.” She pauses. “How are you feeling?”

You pause. “Better,” you say, looking down at your menu and chewing the inside of your lip. “Honestly, I, uh–”

“Hi!” your server greets, appearing as if from thin air. “Do we have any questions about the menu today?”

You’re saved from the awkwardness of opening up to Karen for just that much longer as you pick back up your menus to order. When he leaves, menus with him, Karen turns her attention back to you.

“Better is good,” she says, bringing the conversation back on track.

You nod, deciding not to talk about Miguel right now after all. “I’ve got a meeting with Ellison after this,” you say instead. “Apparently we finally got a press list for that donor gala next month and he wants to go over some things.”

Karen beams. “I was wondering who got that assignment! Ellison didn’t want me to take it, with all the vigilante column stuff, in case a conflict came up,” she says, then waves the thought off with her long, pale hand. “That’s amazing, I’m so glad he picked you.”

Lunch continues, and you find that time with Karen does wonders to lift your spirits. She tells you about a recent night out with Foggy and Matt while you were ‘sick,’ and how Foggy nearly broke three glasses because he wasn’t paying attention to his pool stick before losing to Matt.

“Matt beat him?” you laugh.

“He’s surprisingly skilled at pool,” she laughs with you. “Foggy’s not bad, he just gets… carried away telling his stories after a drink or two.”

It’s hard to mistake the fondness in her voice, and the lump threatens to return to your throat. “He’s pretty good at telling stories, to be fair,” you say.

Karen laughs lightly. “That he is.”

You’re in a far better mood after lunch, and promise to see one another soon before parting ways. It seems Ellison had a good start to his day as well, and he’s practically bouncing on the balls of his feet when you make it into his office.

“Feeling better?” he asks.

“Yup.”

“Good. I got a peek at the guest list, and this is going to be big for you.”

You frown. “I thought it was a standard donor gala?”

He shakes his head. “Well, mostly.” He hands you two sheets of printer paper with a list of names, stapled together at the top left corner, then leans on his desk, arms crossed. “There’s a few big names on the list. Donors who usually don’t attend, yadda yadda.”

You raise an eyebrow and then look down at the list, scanning through it for anyone familiar that might jump out at you. It’s mostly names you don’t recognize, privately rich upper east side-types, one or two vaguely familiar old money surnames, someone with the unfortunate first name of Wilson, and—

Your eyebrows fly up as you look at Ellison. “Stark and Potts?”

Ellison nods, eyes glittering behind his glasses. “Yup. And you are going to get quotes from them.”

The absolute last thing you want is to be on Iron Man’s radar, but…

You nod. “Alright.”

You get started on your research the next day, searching up the names on the lists and taking notes. You’ve got three and a half weeks since the event isn’t scheduled until early November, but with a list this long and how much time you spend on your… extracurriculars, you want to get started early.

Your phone buzzes on the kitchen counter next to you—the couch in the living room behind you, where you frequently do your work from home, untouched. You shift on the stool, stretching your back, before you pick it up to find a text from Karen.

Drinks at Josie’s tonight, 8:30! You’re invited :)

Your fingers hover over the screen. Why not? you think, and tap out a reply:

See you there!

Josie’s is slightly fuller than one would expect for a Wednesday night, but not overly crowded. There’s a pleasant level of background noise from the voices chatting under the music, and for once the fact that it’s warmer in the bar than it is outside is actually enjoyable: the sunset had long since taken the ambient warmth of the city concrete away with its retreat below the horizon.

Foggy warmly thumps you on the arm when you show up. “Good to see you back with the living!” he says. “Let’s get you a drink.”

True to his word, Foggy gets you your first drink before convincing the group to play teams at the pool table. Him and Karen against you and Matt, losers buy the drinks.

“Don’t worry,” Matt says, something about his grin devilish and full of mischief. “I’m better than I probably look, and you can tell me where the balls and pockets are.”

You grin. Even if Matt ended up being terrible, you think you’d be able to keep your team afloat with your secret talents. “Fist bump,” you say, prompting Matt to lift a fist for you to tap.

“Why do I feel like I’ve made a horrible mistake?” Foggy groans.

Matt grins wider, ducking his head to hide it. “I don’t know, Foggy. Did you think you were setting our friend up for failure here by pairing them with the blind guy?”

Foggy shoots Matt perhaps one of the most dramatically exasperated looks you think you might have ever seen, the kind one can only muster when a particularly dear friend is pulling some particularly specific bullshit. Matt must know, because he laughs, a full and happy sound—but you’re busy trying to pretend you haven’t noticed the scars on his knuckles when you bumped your hands together.

“Even if Matt was trash,” you say out loud, trying to shake the realization off and join the banter and putting on a fake-serious voice. “I think I could keep our team doing fine. You’ve made a mistake, Mr. Nelson, putting me in the position of being your enemy.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Foggy says, swiping up the chalk. “Talk a big game if that makes you feel better. Now, let’s play. Karen, you first?”

“My pleasure,” she says, eyes twinkling. “Prepare to lose,” she directs at you and Matt. “Horribly.”

You and Matt win in a landslide.

“Okay, you cheated,” Foggy says over the next round of drinks.

“How could I have possibly cheated, Foggy?” Matt asks. “You just underestimated our companion here.” Matt pats your upper arm with the back of his hand to punctuate his sentence.

Foggy shakes his head and mumbles something into his drink while Matt smiles and takes another sip of his own.

“Well, I demand a rematch,” Karen says. “New teams.”

With fresh drinks ordered and teams switched, Foggy and Karen set the table up for a new game while you stand to the side with Matt, watching them. This game ends up being more evenly matched—you and Karen against Matt and Foggy.

Matt sinks the winning ball.

“Aha! Take that,” Foggy says, pointing a finger at you and Karen playfully. “Now go,” he makes a shoo-ing gesture with his hands. “Losers buy winners drinks.”

“You’re such a sore winner,” Karen teases. “What do you two want?”

It’s at the bar that you start to lose a little steam, the couple gently tangling their fingers on the counter a few seats away catching your eye. A memory flashes through your head of a few weeks ago, you and Miguel walking to breakfast and you resisting the urge to hold his hand—

“You doing okay?” Karen asks. She follows your gaze to see what’s caught your attention and then looks at you again with gentle curiosity and patience.

You sigh, rubbing your hands on your face. Josie sets down a round of shots, and you throw one back. Karen raises an eyebrow when you drop it back down on the counter and ask Josie for another.

“There was… this guy,” you say, looking down at the counter and pressing your finger on a whorl in the wood.

Karen blinks, Josie sets down your refilled shot. “I didn’t know you were seeing anyone.”

You shake your head. “It’s… it was complicated. He was…” You shake your head. “He was complicated.”

“How long?” she asks, and she follows your example when you start to collect the small glasses for the group.

You pause, thinking back, and nearly grimace at how what you’re about to say is going to sound. “Almost a year.”

She grimaces in sympathy. You feel bad about omitting the details, like the fact that you and Miguel hadn’t actually been together, but that wasn’t the point, was it? You were hurt, and you needed to talk about it. Plus, the feelings were mutual. You felt somewhat sure of that, since he’d all but explicitly said it, and you’d been living like a couple for most of that almost-year—

“Well, fuck him,” Karen says as you reach your table again.

“Fuck who?” Foggy asks. “And what for?”

“Some asshole,” you shrug and pretend it doesn’t hurt to call him that as you set the drinks down and sit. Karen next to Foggy, you next to Matt.

“We could always sue him for you, if you like,” Matt jokes, gently bumping his shoulder into yours.

You chuckle, taking a sip of your drink.

“To fucking assholes!” Foggy declares loudly, raising his drink and you nearly choke. Karen laughs and slaps his arm, chastising him loudly. Still, your group raise their glasses and toast to his intentionally crass words.

Matt leans in after the drinks are lowered, asking quietly: “The personal stuff that came up, I assume?”

“Yeah,” you mumble, looking down at your drink and tilting the glass in a circle.

Matt nods, leaning out of your space again. “Screw him,” he agrees.

“You need more drinks,” Foggy decides, already pushing his seat back to go get them.

“No,” you laugh. “Foggy, really—”

“We just got shots—” Karen adds, but your protests are ignored as Foggy is already halfway to the bar counter, determined to drown any lingering sorrows.

So determined, in fact, that for the first time in years you actually get a little drunk.

“My god,” you slur, leaning back on the brick of Josie’s out front. “How did you d’this?”

“Don’t– don’t touch that,” Karen says, also drunk, as she pulls you off the wall.

“Ugh,” you say. “How do you do this all the time?”

“Strong constitutions,” Foggy says. “We all have—we have high con stats.”

“D&D,” you say, pointing at him. “Nerd.”

“Takes one to know one,” he retorts.

You groan in mock defeat, Matt chuckling off to the side.

Karen says your name, long and drawn out like she just realized something terrible.

“What?” you ask, turning towards her.

“You can’t go home like this.”

“I’m fiiine–”

“You’re in Williamsburg,” she insists. “That’s sooo far.”

“That is far,” Foggy says.

“It’s like, twooo trains, max” you insist.

“Two trains too far,” Foggy rebuttals. “While drunk.”

“Crash on my couch,” Matt says, both hands resting atop the end of his white cane. You suspect the reason he isn’t swaying is because he’s somehow gotten very, very good at standing still. “I live closest, you can catch the train home in the morning.”

Foggy and Karen exchange a look.

You nod, ignoring them. “Yeah. Yeah, that works. Good couch?”

“It’s decent,” Karen says, tone nothing but casual and bordering on chipper. “I stayed on it when I was suspected for murder and my apartment was an active crime scene.”

“I can’t believe that’s how we met you,” Foggy says.

Plans settled—Foggy and Karen will split a cab back to their respective apartments, and you’ll walk with Matt to his—the four of you hug and part ways.

”I’m this way,” Matt gestures down the road with his hand, cane grasped firmly and drawing a straight line from the sky to the ground. “Do you feel up to walking?”

“Yeah,” you say when you remember he can’t see you nod. “Yeah. God, I haven’t been drunk in years.”

Matt frowns a bit, light concern creasing between his brows. “You sure you’re okay?”

”Yeah,” you confirm. “It’s just sooo weird now.” And then, at his doubtful expression, you tack on: “C’mon, let’s get going.”

It really is an easy trip back to his building. You’re more focused on walking normally and not accidentally saying or doing something too Spider-y in front of him than on making conversation, so the chit-chat is minimal up until the building is in front of you.

“Oh, we’re here?”

”We’re here,” Matt confirms. “Do you mind stairs?”

You wave his question off. ”I can do stairs in my sleep.”

Matt laughs. ”I’m at the top,” he says, and leads the way.

His apartment isn’t what you expected, the ceilings high and somehow heavy while being made of so much open space. There’s a sort of barebones, worn, industrial thing happening with the interior design; the brick of the walls is exposed, and the colors are dark and brooding like fall. There’s not much in the way of decoration—-a simple couch, a coffee table, and a side dresser against the wall (no television to be found, naturally) mark the designated living room space. A small dining table sits behind the couch, the kitchen sectioned off by a tall counter, a similar concept to your own home. Off to one side, a step higher than the rest of the apartment, is his bedroom.

”Make yourself comfortable,” Matt says. “Water?”

”Sure,” you say, wandering past the couch to the absolutely enormous windows that line the wall. “Your heating bill in the winter must be as big as these windows.”

Matt laughs. “Heavy curtains help insulate the place.” He approaches the living room, two glasses of water in his hands, and you go to meet him. “Plus sweaters.”

“Thanks,” you smile as you accept one of the glasses from him. “Didn’t have you pegged as a sweater guy.”

“I have quite the collection,” he says, sitting in the chair. “I’ll let you borrow one tonight. I don’t know what you have on now, but I’ll bet it’s not nearly as soft. Or comfortable for sleeping in.”

You hum in agreement. “Entirely possible.” You pause. “Thanks for hanging out with me the other day,” you add quietly. “And for letting me crash here tonight.”

”Hey,” he says warmly. “Any friend of Karen’s is a friend of mine.” This time it’s his turn to pause. “Well, most of them.”

”Sounds like there’s a story there.” You raise an eyebrow, curiosity piqued.

Matt shakes his head. “One for another time. Let me get you that sweater, and a pillow.”

Matt rises from the chair but you remain on the couch, forcing yourself to drink the water despite your lack of thirst. Enhanced healing be damned, you’re not going to risk exacerbating any potential hangover via dehydration. He returns shortly, a pillow under his arm and the promised sweater atop a folded blanket that looks far warmer than the one draped over the back of the couch.

”Here you go.” He stops by the end of the couch, setting the pillow on the end carefully and handing you the blanket, sweater, and a surprise pair of sweatpants between the two. “Bathroom is over there, if you want to change.”

Gratefully, you do, slipping back from the sparse, chilly bathroom with your own shirt and pants folded clumsily. “You weren’t joking about how soft this is.”

He’s also changed into his own pair of cozy sweatpants and a slightly stretched out sweater. “I left some ibuprofen on the table for you,” he nods towards the two little brown pills by your cup of water. “Just in case.”

”You’re a saint,” you say, sinking into the couch. “Ohhh my god,” you can’t help but groan. “Karen was right about the couch.”

Matt laughs again. “When Karen vouches for something, I always listen,” he smiles, though you sense an undercurrent of seriousness with his words. “She’s never let me down.”

”She’s pretty great,” you agree, turning your head to look at him properly when a memory from Josie’s returns to your awareness. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” he says, after the most microscopic of pauses—-but a pause nonetheless.

”How’d you get those scars on your knuckles?”

The hand at his side twitches, and after another short second of surprising stillness, Mat sits in the chair by the couch. “My dad was a boxer.” His words come quietly. “After he died, I started practicing myself, and…”

“When…” you swallow. “How long have you been practicing?”

”I started about… not long after it happened.” He leans back in his chair, getting comfortable. “So I think I started about… nearly twenty years ago?” He shrugs.

”I’m sorry.” You hope he knows you mean it. “Is that where you get those mysterious bruises from, too?”

“Something like that,” Matt nods, a gracious incline of his head, the corner of his mouth quirking up. It falls again during a short pause, and then he asks: “Have you lost anyone?”

Your throat gets tight. “My aunt, a few years ago. She raised me by herself.”

Quiet sits for a moment, before Matt echoes your own words. “I’m sorry.”

You sleep heavily that night, after conversation with Matt ends and he retreats to his room, sliding door left open.

When you wake in the morning it's to the smell of coffee and toast.

“Mgh?” you mumble, a slur of disoriented sound when you lift your head from the pillow. Miguel doesn’t usually make coffee—

“Good morning,” Matt says from the kitchen area. “Coffee’s almost ready if you’d like some. And toast.”

Your stomach sinks, reality catching up as you let your head thump back down onto the pillow. You swallow. “That sounds great.”

If Matt notices anything about your voice, you hope he brushes it off as lingering sleep, or the after-effects of a bad dream. He’s gracious enough to put a mug and a plate on the small table for you, and you shuffle around the couch after dragging yourself upright.

“Anyone ever told you you’re a wonderful host?” you ask after thanking him and swallowing your second bite of buttered toast.

“I could stand to hear it more often. Though I suppose that would require having more guests.”

“Where’s our Garden Spider?” Peter whispers to Jess. “I haven’t seen them in weeks. Have you?”

She glances around, then shakes her head. “I think we should stay out of this one, Peter. Miguel’s… he–”

“Uh, yeah. I’ve noticed.”

“What are you talking about?” Gwen interrupts, appearing as if from thin air. Following close behind her are two other Spider-Men—Peter recognizes Hobie, of course, and he thinks he recognizes the second from a new recruit file from the last meeting, Pavitr—who are wrapped up in their own discussion.

“Adult stu–”

“Just catching up,” Jess cuts him off. “Is that Pavitr?”

Peter’s inquiries are sidelined for now, not that he wholly minds. He’s always happy to see Gwen, and sometimes Hobie, and meeting a unique Spider-Man is always interesting.

But he’s going to get to the bottom of this.

<< Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter >>

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara x y/n #except i don't use y/n lmao #spider's in their friendful visitor era woohoo

16 notes · View notes

btsficsandsuch · 1 year

Note

Hey there! I have a request of Taehyung taking care of very sick reader with high fever (fluff ensues) from like an ear infection or strep throat. Please? If not that’s cool. Take care!

Hope this is okay!

Teddy Bear

As soon as your eyes opened you felt it. The burning throat, feeling cold but hot at the same time, a headache. You knew it was strep that, something you caught quite often since you were a child. Quickly you got dressed and made your way to the nearest pharmacy to get some medicine along with some throat lozenges, tea, and some ice cream to help soothe your sore throat. When you finally got back to your apartment you were surprised to find your boyfriend Taehyung laying on the couch watching tv.

“Hey Y/N, I was wondering where you went to.”, he said while getting off the couching walking towards you. Quickly you put your hands up to stop him, “No Tae, you better stay away from me. I have strep throat and I don’t want you to catch it. It’s probably best if you go home.” “Why didn’t you say something? I could’ve stopped and got you something on my way here.”, he asked. “It’s okay. I’m all set but you really should go. You can come over in a few days when I’m not contagious any more.”, you said sadly because you really didn’t want him to leave. “Alright Y/N, I really hope you feel better. Let me know if you need anything.”, he said before blowing you a kiss.

The trip to the pharmacy really took a lot out of you so you quickly took some medicine and then got under your blanket to try and sleep this off. About two hours later you woke up after hearing a loud crash coming from somewhere in your apartment. “Great, this is the worst time to get robbed.”, you thought to yourself as you tiptoed down the hallway. Thankfully you weren’t being robbed but what you saw still made your heart jump, but in a good way. Taehyung standing over the stove stirring a pot while reading something on his phone. “Babe what are you doing here?”, you asked. He jumped a little before setting his phone down and that’s when you saw the recipe he was reading. “I’m making you soup. I’m sorry it’s probably not that great. I tried following the recipe the best I could. My mom and Jin both recommended it for a sore throat.”, he said while grabbing a bowl out of the cabinet.

“Here, drink some water. You need to stay hydrated. I added some lemon and honey. It’s supposed to be good for your throat.”, he said while placing the cup in front of you. Happily you sipped on the warm liquid, “Tae I told you not to be here. You could get sick.” Gently he placed the bowl of hot soup in front of you, “I know but I’m willing to take that risk. Plus I spent yesterday with you so I probably already have it anyways.”

“I’m sorry. I really hope you don’t get sick.”, you said feeling terrible. He smiled, “Don’t be sorry Y/N. I went to the store and got you some more stuff.” You watched him walk over to the entry way and come back with a bag. “The medicine you bought didn’t have a fever reducer so I got you some of this medicine that does. I also saw you bought ice cream but didn’t get chocolate syrup and everyone knows that is essential so I got some. I also got you this. It’s the most important tool to feel better.”, he smiled. You laughed and reached out to grab the stuffed teddy bear he was holding, “Thank you Tae.”

After you finished your water and soup he took you into the bathroom and turned on the shower. He handed you two tablets, “Put these on the floor of the shower. The hot water will dissolve them and they’ll mix with the steam. Take deep breaths while you’re in there as they’re supposed to be good for your throat and also help relax you.” You nodded and slowly stepped in the hot shower following his instructions. The shower helped you more than you thought and you were now laying comfortably in bed with Taehyung rubbing your back.

“Thank you Tae. You really didn’t have to do all this for me.”, you whispered. “It’s no problem Y/N. I just want you to get better. I hate knowing you don’t feel well.”, he said before placing a kiss on the top of your head. “I just really hope you don’t get sick. I would feel absolutely awful.”, you said snuggling a little deeper. “We’ll deal with that later if it comes to it. Just get some sleep Y/N. I love you.” “I love you too.”

It didn’t take long for you to drift off thanks to Taehyung keeping you comfortable. The following morning you felt just the tiniest bit better but it was better than not at all. You felt Taehyung start to stir but you froze when you heard him start to cough. When he said good morning you could hear how scratchy his voice sounded. You internally kicked yourself for not forcing him to leave yesterday. Slowly you looked up and were greeted with big brown eyes and shy smile, “Guess it’s a good thing I made so much soup yesterday huh.” Playfully you rolled your eyes before throwing on your robe, “Yes it is Tae. I’ll go heat some up for breakfast.” Taehyung nodded, “Then ice cream for lunch?” “Anything you want babe. Get some rest. I’ll come get you when the soup is done.”, you laughed before placing a kiss on his cheek.

#bts #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts imagines #bts fluff #taehyung x reader #taehyung fluff #kim taehyung #taehyung #taehyung fanfic #v

76 notes · View notes

i-literally-cant-with-this · 11 months

Text

Upon further inspection, I guess I wasn't the first one to hornily stumble on these two. I don't care. It actually gives me a sick satisfaction to see all the art out there of these guys together. So. Disgustingly. Hot.

☆ Thinking about an unlikely duo ☆

★Friends!Katsuki/Dabi who see you at the Cafe all the time when they're there grabbing a bite or something to drink.

★Friends!Katsuki/Dabi who are tired of seeing you sitting alone with your cute face plastered in a book and only water in front of you.

★Friends!Katsuki/Dabi who come over to you and tell you you're sitting at 'their' table. They're not assholes about it. Quite the opposite. They sit down, one on either side of you and get comfy in the little booth.

"We don't mind sharing, isn't that right, Kats?" Dabi says in a voice that's just laced and dripping with sex.

"Mhm, that's right, Dabi. We actually prefer to share our stuff. Especially with cute little things like you." Katsuki put an arm around your shoulder and played with your earlobe.

★Friends!Katsuki/Dabi who have absolutely no problem convincing you to go back to their shared apartment.

★Friends!Katsuki/Dabi who are both kissing each other and you before you're all even through the front door.

★Friends!Katsuki/Dabi who have their clothes and yours off by the time you're all in Dabi's room where the bigger bed and toys are -- also where Katsuki sleeps from time to time because when your housemate has such a nice cock, why not take advantage of your roomie benefits?

★Friends!Katsuki/Dabi who make you feel so good and comfortable between them that you don't even think about it when they start using toys on you.

★Friends!Katsuki/Dabi who share you in the most mind blowing way when Dabi has you and Katsuki sit on his chest and he eats your cunt while Kats fucks it. His balls slam into Dabi's chin as you grind your clit on his mouth. And Katsuki's cum drips from your pussy onto his tongue. But that just makes it so much more intimate. Don't you think?

★Friends!Katsuki/Dabi who make you cum over and over and over until you can't take it anymore and fall asleep in their arms.

★Friends!Katsuki/Dabi who cuddle you after and whisper sweet nothings in your ear as you drift off to sleep.

★Friends!Katsuki/Dabi who make you breakfast in bed the next morning and give you a very thorough tongue bath before letting you go home.

★Friends!Katsuki/Dabi who you can't get enough of and call up for a booty call when you need a good fucking. Or just some company. They don't care. They like your pussy (and personality) just as much as you like their cocks (and personalities).

Tagging ::: @callm3senpaii @darkstarlight82 @arlerts-angel @bakubunny

49 notes · View notes

draco-dormiens · 2 years

Text

THE STRANGEST OF PLACES - Chapter Three

draco x fem!ravenclaw reader / postwar au series

warnings: conversation has sexual themes towards the end, strong language, alcohol, the characters are 18 in this story fyi :)

wc: 3906

masterlist

pls let me know if you want to be tagged!! tags below:

@slyth3rin-princess @lovesanimals0000 @cappgyuccino @lightning1ce @onlygetaway @honeyyypeach

Chapter Three - Christmas

Christmas Day Draco woke to another silent house. Through the curtains he saw snow hurtling down, a small heap pressed up against the window. As used to being alone as he was, your invitation had played on his mind ever since you left. If you asked because you felt sorry for him, then he'd rather you laugh in his face about how pathetic his life was instead. There was nothing Draco hated more than acts of sympathy, mostly because he was so sick of them. People would assume he needed comfort, or that he needed their company, but he had built himself a wall and he was perfectly happy staying alone within it. (Or so he had trained himself to believe, anyway)

He dressed himself and headed down the stairs, a Merry Christmas from the house elf along the way and stood by the tree to observe the gifts beneath it. His mother had left a note with his name on and several neatly wrapped gifts. He sat crossed legged on the floor and began reading his mother's note.

Merry Christmas, my dear. We hope you like your gifts. Wish you were here. Mother x

A smile crept across his face, putting the card down and ripping the first few open. It was the usual stuff, his favourite cologne, cauldron cakes, a knitted green jumper, new shoes, new suit, even a bottle of fire whiskey. He popped the cork out and sniffed the amber looking liquid, and suddenly a wave of memories came rushing back from his time at school, before all the madness and heartache. The first night he got drunk, he was almost sixteen, at the end of his fifth year. Himself, Blaise Zabini, Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy Parkinson snuck out into the night to drink and smoke cigarettes. He got so plastered that him and Pansy ended up in his private dorm room and one thing led to another. Does he regret it? He didn't really know. But Pansy thought that it meant they were destined for each other and became even clinger than normal after that. He took a swig of it and exhaled after, tasting the bitter, sugary substance on his lips. He kept sipping away at it as he opened the rest, and then took himself, the whiskey, and a box of cauldron cakes to the one drawing room he liked. With a flick of his wand, the fire was lit, and he plopped himself down on the couch for a long day of nothingness. After nearly half the bottle of fire whiskey and a tray of cauldron cakes, he started wondering what you might be doing right now, and then cursed himself out loud for even thinking it.

Your Christmas morning was very different. Draco had crossed your thoughts when you woke, but your mother had soon taken your mind off it when she burst through the bedroom door in a Santa hat and a hot cup of tea. The morning went by like it usually did in your house, presents, your younger siblings arguing over what the other one got (they get the exact same thing), and then a slap-up Christmas dinner and midday nap for your father. Being a muggle, he was huge fan of muggle alcohol, and kept a rather stocked up stash when it was Christmas. He'd drunk three glasses of wine before 12:30 and passed out in his armchair with a paper crown on his head from a cracker. You loved Christmas. It was about family, friendship, and the act of giving. Hermione had sent some peppermint toads and a Christmas card from her family, and Luna had crafted you a beaded necklace with your initial dangling from it. They should have opened their home baked cookies you had gifted them by now. After resting your stomachs for a while, you helped your mother wash the dishes as the rest of the house slept peacefully, a muggle Christmas movie going unwatched on the TV.

"So, how is that project of yours coming along?" your mother asks, "getting on with your partner?"

"He's fine," you tell her, drying off a dinner plate, "he's really stubborn and argumentative, likes everything his way and his way only, but apart from that he's okay. I think we're sort of friends at this point, but it's hard to tell with him."

"Oh my," your mother laughs, "he sounds like a treat. What's his name, again?"

"It's Draco. Draco Malfoy."

She froze for a moment, and you saw from the corner of your eye. She began scrubbing away again.

"I'm familiar," she tells you, looking across and smiling, "can't say I have that much of an opinion."

"I'm going to guess it's the same as everyone else's," you chuckle, "I'm not the biggest fan, but he seems to be mellowing a little since we started on the project."

"Maybe that's your influence," your mother nudges you, "you have that effect on people."

"Well, he complains at me a lot, so I doubt it. He's just one big mystery, I know nothing about him apart from that his parents leave him alone at Christmas."

"He's alone today?" your mother exclaims, passing you a soapy tray to dry, "that's awful. Did you invite him over?"

"I asked but I think I just made him feel awkward," you said, cringing at how shocked he looked, "we're only just getting on with one another."

You mother fell quiet for a second, and then left momentarily and returned with a wrapped present.

"Here," she says, handing it over to you with her yellow-gloved hand, "take this to him."

"What? I can't do that," you shake your head, looking at her like she'd just asked for your presents back, "we don't know each other well enough for me to just turn up at his doorstep, on Christmas."

"But he's alone, darling," you mother says softly, "and as a family, we never leave one out, even if they've made bad choices in the past. Go. Take them to him. It's only chocolates."

You sigh, knowing that it was a nice gesture. You wouldn't have to stay long, just take the chocolates, wish him well, and come home. It was an easy enough task.

"Fine," you say, taking the gift, "I'll be back soon. Thanks, mum."

Malfoy Manor looked as daunting as ever in the early evening dusk and white sheet of snow. It stood, grey and foreboding, with one light on in a top left window. You stood for a while contemplating whether this was a good idea, taking a few steps forward and then shuffling back.

"Just knock on the door, hand it over, and leave," you tell yourself, "It's just a nice gesture."

Taking a deep breath, you walked up to the doors and knocked. After a few minutes, the tiny house elf appeared at your feet. He smiled brightly.

"Merry Christmas, miss Y/L/N," he said, "are you here to see Master Malfoy?"

"Well, actually, I suppose you could pass these-"

"Y/L/N?"

You look up from the elf to see Draco stood just behind, dressed in his green hoodie and sweatpants. His hair is little more tousled than normal, and he's holding an empty cauldron cake box.

"Draco," you say, "I was just dropping this off for you."

He pads over to you, and the elf moves out of his way, but not before he shoves the empty packet into the elf's tiny arms.

"You bought me a gift?" He says, taking the box from your hands and eyeing the wrapping paper.

"I just thought, as you're alone today, you might like to see a familiar face," you tell him as he unwraps the bow from around the box, "even if it's mine."

He removes the packaging to reveal a box of chocolates, and the ghost of a smile curls at the corner of his mouth. Of course, he had lots of girls give him presents in the past, lots of secret admirers and heart shaped gifts, especially at Christmas. But this was different, this was an act of kindness and selflessness, and it was for him. He didn't understand why, but you were here, and suddenly he didn't feel so alone anymore.

"Thanks," he said, looking up at you and smiling a bit more, "that was, uh, real nice of you. You didn't have to."

"I wanted to," you shrug your shoulders, "I should probably get going. Merry Christmas, Draco."

"Wait," he calls, and you turn back to see him awkwardly stood in the doorway. That sounded far too eager, he thought, "do you want to come in for a bit? I can't offer you much, just tea. Think there's some cake somewhere. And we have these."

He held up the box of chocolates, and there was a hopeful glint in his eyes that you would say yes, although if you mentioned that he'd probably throw the box at you and slam the door in your face.

"Sure," you agree, thankful as the cold had started making your toes numb, "tea sounds great."

He took you inside and you walked through the now familiar corridors to the drawing room you first met him in, the fireplace roaring and empty boxes of cauldron cakes on the coffee table, along with an empty bottle of fire whiskey.

"Sorry about the mess," he says, quickly gathering up the rubbish, "I just sort of like cauldron cakes."

"Seems that way," you giggle, taking off your coat and basking in the heat of the fire, "is that all you've eaten today? And the whiskey, have you had any water?"

He stopped what he was doing and looked across at you warming yourself in front of the fire. The outfit you had on was nice, he thinks, but he physically shook his head to rid the thought. I need to slow down on the whiskey. You seemed so casual about asking him, like you were his mother or something, and it wasn't the first time you'd made him think of her, either.

"I uh, well, I haven't had time."

"Haven't had time?" you said, spinning to scold him directly, "Draco, just because it's Christmas doesn't mean you shouldn't eat properly. You need to eat some proper food."

He begins to grin, really grin, and it was strange but nice to see. It even made you smile back.

"What?"

"Have you come here to tell me off, Y/L/N?"

"No, of course I haven't," you defend yourself, going over to him and taking some of the rubbish from his hands, "and I don't tell you off, I inform."

He just keeps grinning, and you can't help thinking how nice his smile is. You look down at the empty whiskey bottle in your hand and contemplate knocking yourself out for a few hours.

"C'mon," he says, and you look back up at his smiling face, "I'll make us some tea."

Time seemed to go by so quickly from the minute you got there. You drank tea in his favourite drawing room whilst the fire burned away, played a game of chess, and after a glass or two of water, cracked open a bottle of wine and began drinking it. It was expensive wine, but Draco said that his mother had so much of it that it was almost a waste not to drink it. The entire time you were thinking about going home, but each time you thought about it the less you wanted to go. The wine was good, and surprisingly, so was the company. Draco was turning out to not be as tightly wound as you previously thought, especially with some wine in him.

"That is not how to you play this game," he slurs, glass half full in his hand, two almost empty wine bottles on the side. You giggle, and it's so infectious he can't help himself, and you know you've never been this drunk before, not even on your eighteenth birthday party.

"S-shut up," you hiccup through your laughter, trying to line the cue up with the ball on the pool table, "I know what I'm doing Malfoy, just w-watch."

You go to hit the ball and completely miss, breaking down into a fit of laughter, and so does he, and it's so refreshing to see someone who is always miserable laugh like that. He makes his way over to you, putting down the wine glass and taking your arms from behind.

"Look like this," he tries to show you how to hold it, chest pressed against your back but far too drunk to even care, "hold it like this, and then try."

He tries aiming you, but it fails miserably, and you both end up in another fit of laughter. You drop the cue, but Draco stays behind you, and your head falls back against his shoulder.

"You're so funny," you tell him, gasping for air as you did so. His laughter dies down, but you're still giggling to yourself.

"You think so?" he asks you, and you turn around, face an inch away from his and your cheeks are rosy and eyes hazy from the wine. You're pretty. He thinks you're pretty. Or does the wine think you're pretty? He didn't know right now. He was running on cauldron cakes, chocolates, whiskey, and wine. Oh, and some bread that you made him eat.

"Y-yeah," you hiccup again, "like, I find you really annoying but I kind of like it when you laugh. Is that weird? That's weird, right?"

"No," he shakes his head, feeling so dizzy he just might collapse, "I mean, I don't think it's weird? Is it weird that I think you're really pretty tonight?"

His words register slowly in your mind, and suddenly you feel a lot more sober, remembering you'd just said that you like it when he laughs.

"Woah," you chuckle breathlessly, pushing him away slightly for some space, "I think we've drank too much. My mum is going to murder me."

He starts to understand his words himself, and then repeating what you had said about his laugh, and his stomach does a small flip, and he thinks he might vomit.

"Yeah, way too much," he agrees, stepping away and leaning against the wall, "we should call it a night. Can you make it home?"

"Oh shit," you grumble, holding your stomach because of the nausea, "I cannot apparate like this, I'll be violently ill."

Draco runs a hand down his face. The room is practically spinning.

"You can stay in one of the spare rooms," he manages to get out, not without having to hold his head to stop the spiralling, "I have some clothes you can borrow."

You just nod, tired and drunk and in need of a toilet right now. You can explain to your mother tomorrow, when you're not wanting to throw up over a pool table that probably cost a million Galleons.

The room he gives to you is so neat and tidy you feel bad about using it, but it had a toilet to empty your guts into and water from the sink. After some serious glugs of water and a few moments over the toilet seat, you start to feel a bit better. Draco had disappeared for some time, doing the exact same thing, but he was standing over of his private bathroom sink after vomiting up everything he had digested that day. He looked across at the clock on the side. 1:30am. That's how long you had been there drinking with him. It had only felt like a few hours.

"Fuck," he mumbles to himself, looking up at his reflection. You'd only come to hand over a gift, and now you were being sick in his guest bathroom. He kept thinking about calling you pretty, and each time he feels like lurching again. How utterly embarrassing, he barely knows you.

"Merlin, I'm pathetic," he says to himself, pulling away from the sink and taking a few deep breaths. He heads towards your room and knocks on the door gently, and soon after it clicks open and you appear, looking much more yourself.

"Better?" he asks, and you just nod in relief.

"So much better," you sigh, "are you?"

"I'm just so hungry now," he says, and you laugh at his answer.

"Snacks?" you suggest, "I think I might need something to dry up the wine."

"Sounds good," he said, gesturing for you to follow him, "and I know the best place to eat them."

Draco's pantry is like a muggle supermarket. You tell him this, but it goes unappreciated. You both take an armful of biscuits, crackers, cheese, and Christmas cake, followed by a more sensible choice of pumpkin juice. He takes you to the very top floor of the house and into a room that you think is going to be the attic but ends up being like the Astronomy tower at Hogwarts. There's a giant window in the roof and all you can see is stars, moonlight shining in and casting a beautiful light across the room. It was breathtaking.

"I can't believe you have a place like this in your house," you say, putting down the snacks on the floor as Draco pulls out a huge blanket and lays it on the ground, "the best I have is my bedroom window."

"This is my favourite place," he admits, sitting down and patting the space beside him, which you take happily, "I come here a lot to think."

He screws open a pumpkin juice for you, and you take it with a thank you, as he begins opening all the snack packets and previewing each one as he did so. As he's munching and opening, you just stare up at the black sky with little white specs across it. It's all so far away, and you wonder who might be looking back at you and not knowing it. They might just think they're looking up at the stars, too.

"Thinking hard?" Draco asks, breaking your thoughts.

"I was just thinking how big the world is, you know?" you tell him, "Like, all those little specs in the sky are something, and we're just here. Looking up at them. A small piece in a big puzzle."

Draco looks across at you staring up at the sky, and even with less wine in his system, he thinks you're pretty when the moonlight hits your face, and that outfit is cute.

"That was deep," he says, and you look across at him with a glint in your eye.

"I like being philosophical," you said, "can't handle the truth of the universe, Malfoy?"

He laughs, and then takes a sip of his juice.

"You know, you're the last person I'd imagine bringing up here."

You scoff, but you're still smiling.

"Gee, thanks."

"That wasn't a jab," he chuckles, "I just meant that a week ago we hardly knew one another."

"I guess we don't know all that much now." You admit, looking back up at the ceiling. He peers across at you, and for a little while, he just looks. How much a week can change is truly unbelievable.

"What do you want to know?" he asks you, and he gains your attention once more.

"What do you mean?"

"About me," he elaborates, "what do you want to know about me?"

You stare back at him, but this time you really look at his features. His eyes are a grey, blue colour, and his hair is so unnaturally white he could have bleached it. His jaw was sharp, like his nose, but he was overall quite handsome. Minus his awful attitude sometimes, he was quite a catch.

"Have you ever loved anyone?" you find yourself asking him, and you aren't entirely sure why. Were you curious if the great Draco Malfoy has ever been in love, or were you asking because the wine was still very much in your bloodstream? Either way, he seemed to really think on it.

"No, I don't think so," he answers quietly, looking up at the stars, "I've been with a few girls, but not really had a girlfriend in my eighteen years, so I'd say no."

"Not even Pansy Parkinson?"

He laughs. A genuine belly laugh, and the sound makes your heart feel happy.

"Merlin, no," he says as he calms down, "she was a friend if anything, we hooked up once but that was it. I don't even see her anymore."

"You slept with Parkinson?"

"Yeah?" he says casually, "what? I'm not exactly proud of it. She was my first."

This time you belly laughed.

"Seriously?" you say, and he just nods as he sips his drink, and then wipes his mouth on his sleeve.

"Alright, now you know mine, who's yours?"

You fell quiet and began to play with the rim of your pumpkin juice bottle. Should you tell him? You weren't entirely sure you could trust him yet, but when you looked back at him, there was something that told you he wasn't going to blab it to the entire school.

"A muggle guy," you admit shyly, expecting him to scold you to the ends of the earth, but instead he just hums and drinks his juice.

"A muggle, huh?" he says, "was he, like, your boyfriend?"

You could tell he was uncomfortable asking you that because the label on the pumpkin juice bottle just became interesting to him.

"No, he wasn't my boyfriend. I have muggle friends who don't know anything about this world, and it was one of them. He was sweet. It was at my seventeenth."

Draco just nods.

"I was fifteen."

"Huh?" you almost spit out your drink, but Draco seems unphased.

"Well, I was almost sixteen. It was just before the summer of our fifth year."

You wipe your mouth on a nearby napkin.

"I don't know why I'm surprised, really," you said, "you do have a reputation."

"For being a dick?"

"Yep."

He just bites his lower lip, smiling as he did so. You caught him doing it, and your eyes fell to where his pearly whites sunk into the flesh of his lip. Was this guy attractive or were you still drunk?

"You've changed, though," you say quickly, and his eyes fall on yours again, "you're still an arse, but this last week I've seen you change. It's good."

Draco doesn't say anything for a moment, but he's looking at you and his eyes are dancing across your features and the moonlight is reflecting in them and if this was anyone else the situation would have been romantic.

"I don't want to be the person everyone thinks I am," he confesses to you, his eyes still locked on yours, "I don't want to be the person you think I am. The other day, when you threw that stupid drawing into the fire, that was the nicest shit anyone has ever done for me. Can you believe that?"

You just listen, absentmindedly leaning towards him as you do so. He continues.

"People don't know but I find socialising really tiring and awkward, especially if its genuine, and honestly I just want someone to hang out with. That's how sad I am."

"I don't think that's sad," you say softly, and his eyes are on yours and you're closer and he smells so good and you realise, that was no Amortentia, that's just how delicious Draco smells, "besides, we're buds now, right?"

He chuckles deeply, taking those grey eyes away and putting them back on the sky above you.

"Yeah, we're buds now," he agrees, looking down at you through the corner of his eyes, "and you're not bothered what your other friends might think."

"Why would I be?" you say, "you're not the devil, Draco. Anyway, I get to choose who I'm buds with."

"You're not half bad, you know that Y/L/N?"

You sit up a little straighter and look him up and down playfully.

"Neither are you, Malfoy. And call me Y/N, yeah?"

He smiles and forces some air through his nose.

"Y/N," he repeats, "alright then."

disclaimer: i do not own hp or any of the characters in this story

dividers from: @firefly-graphics & @happy-ash-edits

#draco malfoy #draco #draco x reader #draco x y/n #draco x you #draco x ravenclaw!reader #draco x female reader #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x female reader #draco lucius malfoy #draco fanfiction #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #hpff

267 notes · View notes