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bruisedboys · 10 months

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love drunk — miguel o’hara x reader

summary — while miguel deals with a drunk and clingy you, you accidentally let it slip that you love him. requested here

grumpy x sunshine!! spidergirl!reader, no pronouns used but implied fem!reader, grumpy miguel, kind of ditzy reader, drunk reader, established relationship, first ‘I love you’ trope, miguel being lovesick, fluff. so much fluff

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implied fem!reader 1.3k words

Miguel thinks he should never let you drink again in your whole life.

“Y/N,” he says through gritted teeth, irritated now. Actually, he was irritated ten minutes ago but was doing a better job at hiding it. “Come on. Get off me.”

You’re dead weight in his lap. He wouldn’t mind, he likes when you sit on him like this, only you’re in the middle of the bar and there are at least five Peter’s looking his way and smirking, and he can see Hobie Brown laughing at him behind his hand across the room.

“Whyyyyy?” You drawl, your lips slow and your tongue slower. You paw at his chest and give him a glare that’s about as menacing as a puppy. “You’re so mean.”

Miguel sighs heavily. He picks up his hands where they’d been hovering at your sides, unsure whether he should touch you or not when you’re like this, and gets a good grip on your hips.

“C’mon, get up,” he says. He lifts you off his lap with ease, fingers curling around your hips, and deposits you in the booth seat next to him.

To Miguel’s surprise, you don’t flop into his side or try to climb back onto him like he thought you would. Where seconds ago you were like a rag doll, you sit rigid straight.

“What?” He asks you, genuinely confused.

“Sorry,” you say quietly, frowning to yourself. “I didn’t mean that. You’re not mean.”

Miguel blinks at you. “Oh. No, that’s not why I made you get off, sweetheart. I know you don’t actually think I’m mean.”

Slowly, you brighten up like a wind up toy, springing back to life in slow motion with a big smile painting itself across your mouth, all teeth. “Oh, okay. Can I get back on you now?”

Miguel actually laughs. He’s very tempted to say yes, you can sit in his lap as long as you like. He doesn’t, mostly because you’re very obviously past your limit and you need a bed and some water. Neither of which he can get you here.

“You’re funny, cariño,” he tells you, chucking you under the chin with his knuckles. You beam up at him, eyes squinting so much they’re half closed. He indulges himself in a squeezing of your cheek before breaking the news, “No, you can’t get back on me—“ Your face falls, “—But I can take you to bed?”

Your smile comes back so quick it’s alarming, and you nod vehemently. “Yeah, please.”

Miguel manages to get you out of the Spider-Bar (nicknamed by one of the Peter’s, he can’t remember which but Miguel refuses to call it that. It’s just a section off the second floor of Headquarters where Spider-people migrate to drink.) without you tripping over your own feet. He’s discovering you’re a very clumsy, clingy drunk. That, and you really can’t hold your liquor. He’s only had a little less than you and he feels completely fine. Other than the burning in his chest, though he’s pretty sure that has more to do with you and your presence than the alcohol.

He gets you into an elevator and holds you up when you slouch into his side. His arm around your hip and both of your hands clinging like vines to his free arm, tight enough to ache but he can’t bring himself to ask you to loosen your grip a little. He’d be lying if he said he doesn’t enjoy your apparent desperation to stick to him like glue.

The elevator dings and the doors slide open. A gaggle of Spider-Women wait on the other side, Jess among them. The younger girls giggle amongst themselves when they see the predicament they’ve caught their haughty boss in.

“Hey, Miguel,” Jess drawls as she sidles past him, Miguel practically dragging you out of the elevator now and out of the way of the girls. “Hey, Y/N.” She grins at your inebriated state, then looks to Miguel, “Early night?”

It’s almost midnight. Miguel can’t tell if she’s teasing or not. She probably is. “Yeah.”

“Miguel’s taking me to bed,” you pipe up, a lustful tone to your sticky, slurry voice that Miguel winces at. He hadn’t meant it like that. Clearly, your drunk mind had taken it that way. He’ll be sure to set the record straight once you’re safe and alone in his room.

Jess laughs loud. “Right. Well, have fun with that.”

She’s still laughing as the elevator doors slide shut. Miguel sighs. He’s not gonna hear the end of that for at least a week. You tug on his arm and smile up at him sweetly, and he forgets all about it.

“What is it, cariño?” He hums.

“Can you carry me? My feet are sore.”

Miguel indulges you. Partly because you’d asked and he’s yet again been tasked with the challenge of saying no to you (which he fails at every time), and partly because you’re slowing him down and he really wants to get to his room before he meets anyone else. He scoops you up easily, one arm hooked beneath your thighs and the other under your back. You giggle dazedly and hook your arms around his neck tight enough that it’d hurt anyone but Miguel, burying your face in his neck, your flyaway hair tickling his skin.

By the time he gets you to his room you’re half asleep in his arms. He’d let you sleep but your suit is constricting. He deposits you on the bed in the dark and switches on the lamp. He only manages to turn on his heels before you’re grabbing his arm, warm hand wrapping around his wrist with a clumsy desperation.

“Don’t go,” you murmur, eyes half closed.

Miguel pries your hand away gently. “I’m not going anywhere. Just getting your pyjamas.”

You allow it but you make a grab for him as soon as he’s back, hands warm at his waist. He stands in front of you and undresses you out of your spidersuit, then redresses you into the pyjamas you keep in his room. You keep quiet other than the occasional hiccup and despite your amorous comment earlier you don’t try anything, even when you’re completely bare-chested and Miguel is standing over you. While he pulls your shirt over you head, your hands find his hips and grip them like somebody’s trying to take him away from you.

He gives you a glass of water which you skull back like you’re about to die of thirst. He refills the glass and when he comes back you’ve turned the light off and buried yourself under the covers. He thinks you’re asleep until he goes to put the glass on the bedside table and your hand sneaks out of the sheets, reaching for him.

“Miguel…” you murmur, fingers brushing his abdomen. You tilt your head up towards him, searching for him in the dark.

“You okay?” He asks, concerned you’re not feeling well. He hopes you’re not the kind of drunk who throws up everything they drank. Though he can’t say he’d mind looking after you even if you were.

“I’m fine,” you say softly. It’s dark and he can barely see your face but he hears your next words just fine. “Thank you for looking after me … I love you.”

Miguel is so shocked he almost drops the glass of water he’s holding. Sure, he knew you had feelings for him. He knew you care for him about as much as he does for you, which is an inordinate amount. To hear you say it is different. His fondness for you multiplies by about a million and the chasm in his chest feels, not for the first time since he met you, a little bit smaller.

He knows you probably won’t remember it in the morning, but it’s been said and his chest is aflame. He sets the cup down and then crouches next to your lovely, tired face, and cups your cheek. He presses a soft kiss to your temple, and then your lips. Your eyelashes flutter as your eyes fall shut and you smile.

Miguel waits til he’s sure you’re asleep to say it back — vulnerability’s never really been his strong suit. He tucks hair away from your face, feeling a bit drunk himself. Just not from anything he drank. “I love you too, mi amor.”

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louloulemons-posts · 10 months

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Drunk Snuggles

Eddie Munson X Fem!Reader

Summary : Eddie gets a little drunk at a party and wants to cuddle his girlfriend.

Word Count : 1.7K

Warnings : mentions of alcohol, Eddie getting a little sad, it’s angsty for like a second, major fluff, fluffy Eds, none sexual nakedness, use of Y/N, pet names, not proof read.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Laughing as you spoke to Robin, you could feel the music thumping around the room. You were at a house party, it wasn’t something you did a lot but you felt like it.

“I think our peace is going to be disturbed,” Robin said, motioning to somewhere behind you. Turning you saw your other friend Steve Harrington, he looked flushed in his face.

When he reached you he spoke, “You need to come deal with your boy, he’s something else with booze in his system.”

“Where is he?” You asked.

“The garden, I left him on a lounger.”

You nodded and headed through the crowd of dancing bodies to get to the back door. It was much quieter out there, not many people. A few were smoking and others making out.

The curly haired boy lay on a lounger, staring up at the sky. An almost empty bottle of beer loosely hanging from his hand. Making your way to him you could only smile.

“Hey,” you spoke softly, to not make him jump. Hearing your voice he shot up, “Hey!” Attempting to stand and make his way to you, he cackled as he wobbly, nearly falling flat on his face.

You quickly grabbed him, ensuring that he stayed up right. “Careful Eds,” you said, holding him by the waist. Giving you a goofy grin, he sighed, “You’re so beautiful, where did you go?”

“Just talking to Robin babe, I did tell you.”

“Yeah but you were gone agessss,” he whined, lips falling into a pout. “20 minutes isn’t ages.”

“It is, my favourite girl left me for 20 whole minutes, that’s like … a million seconds!”

“A million?”

“Mhm,” he nodded.

“Well I’m back now.”

“Yeah,” he smiled again, hugging you tightly.

You hadn’t seen Eddie get drunk too many times, but on the few occasions you did, you noticed he became a lot more touchy than usual.

“Love you so much,” he slurred.

“I love you too.”

“Yeah?” He asked, pulling away to look at your face. “Yeah, I love you.” He laughed, shyly hiding his face, in your neck.

“What’s funny?” You asked.

“The prettiest girl in the whole of Hawkins .. in the whole world … the whole universe! Loves me, Eddie Munson. Who’d have thought,” he rambled on.

“How much have you had to drink pretty one?”

“Just a couple.”

“Mhm. Sure you did. Should’ve kept an eye on you.”

“I’m sorry, are you mad at me?” He asked, eyes almost teary when he looked at you.

“Oh no,” you said, softly stroking his face, “I’m glad you’re having fun.”

“Mhm, I was. But then you left me! Then Steve said he’d find you, tell you to come and see me if I promised to stay on the lounger.”

“And here I am,” you smiled.

“Mhm! You found me!”

“Course I did, can’t lose my favourite boy can I?”

“I’m your favourite boy?” He asked, tilting his head like a puppy. “Yeah baby, you’re my favourite person.”

His face flushed at that, gosh he was so cute. “Could we maybe go home now though?” He asked.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah I just-” he mumbled something into your neck.

You laughed, “Pretty one I can’t hear you when you talk there, tell me what you said.”

“I wanna … go home and cuddle.”

“You wanna cuddle?”

“So bad,” he said softly, head resting on your shoulder.

“We can do that, let’s go say goodbye and then I’ll drive us home.”

“Home?”

“The trailer Eds.”

“It’s your home?”

“Wherever you are is my home Eddie.”

He looked like he was about to burst into tears, but instead he held the sides of your face and planted a kiss on your mouth. “Love you so much.”

“Love you too baby.”

You unwinded your arms from his waist and took his hand, “Lets go say bye then.” Walking back into the party you saw your friends.

They waved at you as you made your way over, a stumbling Eddie behind you. “Careful,” you said, to which he just laughed.

You hugged Nancy, Steve, Robin and Jonathan goodbye. Making sure they all had ways to get home safe, feeling Eddie almost tugging you towards the door.

“Good luck with him tonight Y/L/N,” Steve said. “Thanks Harrington, see you guys later.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

When you arrived at the car, you helped Eddie in as he had turned into bambi on ice. No idea how to control his long limbs. “Steady babe, mind your head,” you said, placing your hand on his curls and he got into your car.

He pulled his legs in and sighed as he leaned back against the leather seat. Leaning over to do his seatbelt, he pecked your cheek. Once. Twice. Three times.

“Comfy?” He nodded, you smiled. Shutting the door and climbing to your side, repeating the same actions as Eddie had done, you began your drive to Eddies.

The car was quiet, only the rumbling of the engine making a sound. Whilst you changed gears you felt another hand on yours, Eddie linking your fingers. “You okay?”

“Miss you.”

“Sweet boy I’m right here,” you chuckled.

“Not close enough.”

“Well we can be close and cuddle as soon as we get in and ready for bed okay?”

“Mhm. How longs it gonna take?”

“‘Bout 5 minutes Eds.”

Letting out an audible whine, you looked over at your boyfriend. “What?”

“Too long.”

“You’ll be okay. You’ve got my hand and we can talk.”

“What about?”

“Anything.”

He let out a sigh, thinking of something to say. “Can I ask a question?”

“Sure, go for it babe.”

“Why me?”

“Why you what?” You furrowed your brows, not understanding what he meant.

“Why would you want to be with me?”

“Why wouldn’t I? You’re kind, and funny, and a great friend. I love spending time with you. You make me happy, and laugh so much. You’re a beautiful souls Eddie.”

You heard him sniffle. Pulling into the trailer park, Eddie hadn’t spoke since your little speech. “Here we go Pretty one, we’re home.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Turning off the car and climbing out you walked round to help Eddie, finding him tearing up. “Hey, what’s wrong?” You asked, stroking his face.

“You just said … such nice things!” He cried out, “ so nice and I just love you and you love me and it’s just nice.”

“Oh baby, come on let’s get in. You need some cuddles huh?”

He nodded, rubbing his face and taking your hands to get out the car. Locking it, you walked into the trailer. Wayne was lay on the couch watching a show.

“Hey kids how was the party?” He asked.

“It was good we had fun,” you smiled at the older man. “Good I’m glad, have you eaten?” He questioned.

“Baby,” Eddie whined in your ear, arms wrapping around you from behind. “Yeah, there were snacks and stuff so we’re good. Thank you though.” He hummed at you.

“I assume he’s drunk a bit?” Nodding to Eddie. “Yeah, I’m gonna get him to bed.”

“Call if you need anything Sweetheart.”

“Will do. Say night Eds.”

“Night Pops.”

“Night Son, don’t give her any trouble.”

“Would never!”

You laughed, “Come on Pretty one let’s go to bed.”

“For cuddles?”

“Mhm cuddles, let’s go.” Eddie dragged you to his room, throwing the door open. Falling over his bed to turn on his lamp.

“Be careful!” You said, shutting the door behind you. “‘M okay.”

“Come on, let’s get changed.” You went to his draws grabbing some plaid pants, handing them to him.

Taking out one of his old shirts and some shorts for yourself, you went to him. “You want some help?” You asked.

“Please.”

“Okay Sweet Boy, shoes first, can you take your rings off for me?”

“‘Mkay.”

Undoing his laces and pulling his shoes from his feet, you placed them by his others, sliding off your own. “Done it,” he said, passing you his many rings, you placed them on the top of his dresser, yours once again being placed next to them.

“Okay jacket and shirt next,” you helped him get his arms out and his head out of his shirt, throwing them to the washing bin in his room. “Want a shirt? Or just bottoms?”

“Bottoms.”

“Okay pretty one, let’s get you out of your jeans then.”

You undid his belt as his hands didn’t want to listen to his head, along with the button and zipper. Sliding them off his legs, “Want to keep your underwear on?”

“No.”

“Can I do it?”

“Mhm. Never have to ask.”

“That’s sweet babe, but I do. Let’s get em off.” You’d seen Eddie naked plenty of times, not always in a sexual manor, well actually it was less sexual that it was sweet moments.

You’d shower together just because, washing each others hair sweetly, you’d lay together, bare just to be close. He liked skin on skin you’d learned. Comforted him.

“Can you put these on so I can get changed?” You asked.

“Mhm.” He quietly took the pants off you and began to slide his feet in. Sliding off you jacket and top you slid into his. Doing the same with your own jeans, getting into your shorts.

Placing them in the hamper, you opened another draw, pulling out some wipes. You cleaned your face off in front of the mirror. Looking in it you saw Eddie watching you, now in his pyjamas.

“Beautiful,” he said.

“Hm?”

“You’re beautiful.”

“So are you.” He flushed again, dropping onto the bed and chuckling into his hands. You couldn’t help but grin, wiping off any remaining mascara and threw the wipe into the trash.

“Come on then let’s cuddle.” Shuffling up the bed, you both climbed under the blanket. Turing off the light, Eddie rested his head on your chest, wild curls everywhere. “You want me to tie it up?” You asked.

“Can you play with it?” Sleep evident in his voice.

“Sure thing.” Fingers running through his curls, his arm wrapped around your face and he snuggled into your chest. “I love you Y/N.”

“I love you too Pretty, now get some sleep.”

“‘Mkay.”

Kissing the top of his head, he hummed, soon drifting off into dreamland. You following behind not far after, the sound of Wayne’s show playing quietly filling the darkness.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Thank you so much for reading! Please leave any requests 🤍

#eddie munson imagine #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x yn #joe quinn #joe quinn imagine #eddie stranger things #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie x y/n #eddie x reader #stranger things #stranger things imagine #joseph quinn #fluff #oneshot #imagine #louloulemons

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sidekick-hero · 9 days

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I can't stop thinking of Eddie as Cyrano de Bergerac.

He's in the drama club, he's known for his way with words, his ability to bring whole worlds to life with them. Few people know that he also writes poetry, poems about love and loss, society and justice, whatever comes to his mind. Many of them are about a mysterious person with gold-flecked eyes and autumn hair, constellations on his skin, and the sun in his heart.

Eddie guards his notebook full of poems like a dragon guards his hoard of gold. And yet.

And yet Susie Bowers finds it where it fell out of his pocket when that asshole Tommy Hagan pushed him against the lockers. She reads it and realizes how devastatingly beautiful Eddie's words are.

It makes her think… think about her crush on Steve Harrington, the fallen king who is still the most eligible bachelor at Hawkins High. Especially since he refuses to just take girls home to fuck them. No, he wants to date. He wants to fall in love. It's catnip for everyone, but at the same time so frustrating because no girl has managed to catch his eye yet.

Maybe this little notebook is her ticket to a relationship with Steve Harrington.

She approaches Eddie and shows him the notebook, pulling it out of his reach as he attempts to grab it. She offers him a deal: she won't spread copies of all his cute little writings all over the school, exposing his deepest secrets for everyone to see and ridicule. In exchange, Eddie will help her sweet-talk Steve Harrington.

Eddie agrees and writes love letters to the boy he's been in love with ever since he found him drunk and depressed on the side of the road after his girlfriend dumped him. He had taken him home, listened to him ramble on about what he had done wrong, why no one would want to love him, and then put Steve to bed and watched him sleep until morning to make sure he was okay.

He left before Steve woke up, and the next time they saw each other at school, Steve didn't even look at him. It had broken his heart and inspired most of his poems, because nothing inspires like heartbreak.

And now Eddie can tell Steve all the things he thinks and feels about him - just to make it seem like it's written by Susie.

It seems to work, because Steve replies to her letters. His replies are simpler, less lyrical, but just as earnest. His words are sweet, and he's funny and thoughtful.

He's everything Eddie knew he was going to be. And Susie couldn't care less, she just wants to go out with him, have him take her home, have everyone know that she's Steve Harrington's girlfriend.

They go out. After a dozen letters, he gives in and asks her out.

Eddie cries himself to sleep that night.

Someone knocks on his bedroom window. Confused and a bit nervous, because he doesn't have only friends in this town, far from it, he goes to open it.

And finds Steve Harrington standing right outside his window.

"What -"

"Did you mean them?" Steve asks and he can't tell from his tone what he's thinking.

"What?"

"Your letters, did you mean what you wrote or did you just write down what you thought I wanted to hear so I'd go out with Susie?"

His tone doesn't really change, but Eddie can see his eyes shining in the dim light coming from his bedroom. He looks upset, and Eddie wants to fix it, but he doesn't know what answer would do that.

So he chooses the truth. "Yes. I meant every single word I wrote in those letters."

"Then why didn't you send them under your own name?" When did Steve get so close? And why is the window sill digging into his stomach?

At Steve's question, Eddie can't help but laugh bitterly. "Did you look at me, Steve? I'm the town freak! A fuckup. Trailer trash. A small-time drug dealer who failed his senior year. Why would anybody - why would you want to get love letters from me?"

Steve nods, not saying a word as he turns and walks away. And okay, he deserves it, he guesses. Hanging his head in defeat, he shuffles away from the window and face plants on his bed, letting fresh tears fall from his eyes.

Until there's another knock, this time at his front door.

He's out of bed in record time, almost breaking his neck in his haste to get to the door. It can't be - it's impossible that this is -

Steve is standing on his front porch, looking devastatingly handsome in his light-washed Levi's and red sweater. His date outfit.

He walks up to him before Eddie can say anything and cups his cheek.

"I've been looking at you, Eddie. All I've done since the night you brought me home and listened to me and took care of me, I've been looking at you. Looking and waiting. Hoping. Wanting you to give me a sign, any sign, that it wasn't just chivalry that made you do this, but the fact that you cared. About me. But you never did."

"Steve," Eddie whispers, but Steve isn't finished.

"And then I get these letters, and all the words, they sound like you. I couldn't be sure, not until I read the line, 'You deserve someone who wants to love you, all of you, the good and the bad and everything in between. I want to be that person. I want to love you.' You're the only one I've ever said that to. I knew it had to be you."

"But why? Why go out with Susie?"

"Because I had to be absolutely sure that it wasn't Susie. And after ten minutes with her, I was. I drove around until I couldn't… I had to talk to you. To see if you mean it. If you want to love me."

Eddie kisses him.

There's nothing else on his mind but the need to finally kiss the boy he's been in love with for almost a year.

Steve kisses him back, soft, tender, then deeper, dirtier.

When they pull apart, both gasping, Eddie leans in closer because his next words are meant for him and Steve and no one else.

"I want to love you long after my body crumbles to dust and my soul finds yours in the afterlife. I want to love you as the ocean does the moon, forever bound, forever following its call, until the end of time."

#steddie #steddie au #steddie ficlet #eddie x steve #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things ficlet #my writing #don't ask me where this is coming from but it refused to go away until I wrote this down

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the-ace-with-spades · 2 months

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(I adore fics where Johnny’s family loves Ghost from day one, but, you know…angst)

Soap and Ghost had been together for almost two years. They never name the relationship, really, but it's serious and they both know it.

Thing is, Johnny's seen Ghost's face a total of four times, counting Las Almas.

Well, he sees parts of it regularly, more than others. Ghost will either roll the balaclava up when they're reading together in bed or when they're eating. Sometimes, when Soap wants to go out and Ghost indulges him, he goes in public in just either a face mask or a gaiter and Soap can see his short wavy blonde hair sticking all over the place and

The four times he had seen Simon’s face in it’s whole — obviously, Las Almas; one time when he was unconscious and bleeding from a head wound and Johnny had to check; one time when they took a shower together, Simon stayed with his back toward him through most of it, but when they finished, he let Johnny dry off his hair; one time, when Johnny asked him to see him for his birthday presents, a few minutes after midnight.

Johnny wasn’t sure why exactly Simon didn’t want to show him his face. It wasn’t a trust thing — he trusted Johnny with more than his own life — and it wasn’t like he was ugly — he was downright sinful. He never drilled the topic because he didn’t care, if SImon wasn’t ready, then he wasn’t ready, but if he had to guess, it was all to do with identity and being seen. No one knew his face — people could know his name, Simon “Ghost” Riley, but they wouldn’t know the man behind the mask. Wouldn’t know the people behind Simon “Ghost” Riley.

(Johnny wasn’t completely off on the assumption — Simon didn’t want anyone to know his face because faceless people weren’t missed. Faceless graves — like his own — didn’t have people to leave behind, and faceless soldiers didn’t have loved ones to find and he was both. No one could get hurt if he remained faceless. Or at least that’s what he’d been telling himself.)

And Johnny is okay with that — if Simon never showe him his face again, he’d still love him all the same. Johnny’s family? Not so much.

They’re supposed to be in Glasgow for five days total, leaving after Boxing Day. Johnny gives them all a warning, that Ghost is a bit shy and doesn’t like showing his face, he’ll most likely stay covered the whole time, he might be wearing a balaclava, or a mask, he probably won't eat at the table.

When they arrive at his parents house, it almost seems like everyone forgot. Like everyone thought it'd be more mild or that Johnny was exaggerating.

There are looks. There is silence. People can't stop staring.

His mam takes one look at Simon’s balaclava once they enter the living room and looks funny at them. “Ah thooght Ah tauld ye boays tae strip doon.”

“Mam, lea him alane,” he tries but he can tell that Simon is getting tense and his mam is getting tense.

His mam, who is usually the sweetest person ever, is uncharacteristically quiet and curt whenever Simon is around. Simon doesn't really know how to make it better — Johnny's never seen him so silent outside of stealth missions, he just stands there like a sore thumb, not making anything less awkward. He didn't expect him to — Simon's social skills are lacking and he loves him that way — but he expected his own family to not make such a big deal out of that mask.

His da is stern and silent, which is as disapproving as he gets. His sisters are a bit weirded out, but mostly focused on teasing Johnny, even making fun of the mask. With a stupid grin, his older sister asks, “Does he keep it oan in bed?”

Johnny doesn't say anything to that, even though his face feels red. His sisters stop laughing.

“He does?” When Johnny tries to step out of the room and avoid the conversation, his sister’s tone changes. “Hae ye e’en seen his face?”

“O’ coorse Ah hae,” he spits out. He doesn’t specify it was only four times — he doesn’t think it’d help. “And ‘s a bonnie ane, alricht.”

It doesn’t save the situation and his sisters are also weirded out and wary from then on.

The kids do not care — they ask maybe two questions, tilts their head as Simon explains and that’s it — and Johnny breathes a little easier as soon as his nieces push Simon outside to help them build a snowman.

The judgment doesn’t stop. Johnny’s blood boils any time it shows and even though Simon says it’s all fine, he can’t stop feeling angry about this. They just can’t get past the mask.

Christmas Eve and Christmas Day are difficult to Simon and Johnny knows it. He’s given him the option to omit the family dinner on both those days if he’s not feeling alright enough to spend those days in crowdy house filled with a flock of loud and cheery people of all ages.

Simon knows this. He also knows that if he says he wants to stay at Johnny’s flat for the time being, Johnny is going to insist he doesn’t have to go either, that he’d prefer to stay in with him and not go for the Christmas dinner. Which he also knows is bullshit — Johnny loves Christmas, loves spenidng time with his family, that was basically why he kept on insisting Simon couldn’t stay alone at the base for Christmas another year in a row. It was the main reason why he agreed to go with Johnny in the first place, he was pretty sure if he didn’t go with him, Johnny would insist he stays, too.

So Simon stays in for Christmas Eve — or rather goes to a pub while Soap spends the day with his parents — but insists they go to Christmas dinner.

His family is disappointed to see him there, to the point the usual manuevering around politeness and disapproving go onto a backburner.

“John said yer nae a fan o’ Christmas,” Johnny’s mum says to him pointedly.

“That’s right.”

“And yet ye’r ’ere,” she notes.

Johnny is far away from the earshot and he doesn’t want to lie to her so he admits, “If I didn’t come, Johnny would insist on keepin’ me company.”

“How come ye dinnae try to hae a bit mair cheer fur th' holidays then? Put a bit mair effort in for ma baby.”

Johnny notices and soon enough, he’s next to him, their arms brushing, Johnny’s hand on the small of his back. “Lea him alane, mam.”

“It’s fine,” he says even though it’s not fine. They deserve an explanation, even just to know what they son is getting himself into. “My family was murdered on Christmas Eve. I’m—I’m trying.”

The silence falls over the room — Johnny’s mum, dad, his sister, all present, not looking at them. Simon closes his eyes, tries to breathe.

Johnny rubs his back. “Let’s gae home.”

“I’m not ruining Christmas for you, Johnny,” he says. Before Johnny can deny it — and he knows he’d try — he tries to placate, “Let’s just have ourselves a minute to calm down.”

Maybe it’s the way his voice is perfectly levelled or the way his hand trembles as he squeezes Johnny’s, but he lets him leave the room.

He steps outside — to the backyard. Sits down on the step to the garden and lets the snow soak through his jeans and the top o his balaclava.

The kids come outside, tripping over Simon’s legs. They were all oblivious to the trails and errors of Simon’s integration into the family, so they approach him as always

“Whit's wrang?”

There’s just something so innocent in having a six-year-old girl covered from head to toe in pink and glitter worry about you. Simon would never admit it in front of Johnny, but he finds the accent cute.

Simon takes off the mask.

The kids all look at him and look at him, a bit unsure maybe a bit fearful — it can be a scary sight, he admits, the elongated, jagged smile that sticks to him no matter the mood, makes him more crazy than he already is — but only one of Johnny’s niece keeps her eyes on Simon’s face.

Shily, she asks, “Does it hurt?”

“No,” he replies. When she smiles, he smiles back.

Not anymore.

This is Johnny’s family. Simon can deny it all he wants, but Johnny’s seen him as family, as someone he’d leave behind, and it hadn’t been unrequited. He can’t hide behind a mask forever and maybe this was the kick he needed.

He steps back inside when his hands turn numb. He doesn’t put the mask back on.

Johnny’s eyes widen. “Simon?”

Simon just—smiles. He can feel the scars pulling on the corners of his mouth, the stiffer skin, but he’s not faceless. He’s not been faceless for a while.

Edit (29/03/24): This is now a WIP for a minimum 15k fic, titled don't shoot me, santa, that will have 4 chapters and will be posted (hopefully) later in the year

#this is like a very shortened version with some points cropped out #maybe this will be a full-blown fic at some point #who knows? not me for sure #idk maybe closer to christmas or sth if i have inspiration #i headcanon soap speaks scots whenever he's home/speaking freely and softens the accent otherwise #i love glasgowian accents but im not good at writing them so #ghoap #ghostsoap #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #cod #call of duty #q #charlie writes #op

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its-time-to-write · 11 months

Note

hi! Could you please write something with like reader opening the door one day when Roy stars knocking for training but reader and Jamie aren’t open about their relationship yet? I think it would be cute xx

I also thought this was cute. Not sure if anyone notices/cares, but all my titles are song lyrics based ever so loosely on the vibe I am trying to convey. Thanks for another great request!

what it is

Someone’s aggressively knocking on the door and as you roll over to check the time. It’s 4am, and you poke Jamie who is fast asleep beside you.

“Babe,” you whisper, “someone’s at the door.”

Jamie groans and mumbles something incoherent. As your eyes adjust to the darkness, you can tell something’s off. You reach out your hand and feel his forehead. It’s burning up.

The knocking continues and Jamie lets out another groan and says something that sounds like raining? Oh. Training. You remember he trains every morning at 4, but you’ve never seen who he goes with. He just kisses you in your sleep and is back right as you wake up for the day.

You roll out of bed, grab one his sweatshirts from the floor, and pad downstairs to the door.

You swing open the door mid-knock. The man on the other side lowers his fist, looks at you all squinty for a moment, then says, “Who the fuck’re you?”

You return the look. “I live here. Who the fuck are you?”

The man scoffs. “No, you fucking don’t. This is Jamie Tartt’s house. Jesus fucking Christ, is he fucking blowing off training because of a fucking one-night stand?”

Oh. You know who this is. This is Roy Kent. You didn’t know he was the one training Jamie, but you guess it makes sense based on how much Jamie talks about him. It’s Roy Kent this, and Roy Kent that, and Roy says I need to eat more protein, and Roy said my hair looked funny today, does it look funny to you?

You sigh. You and Jamie have been together for three months, and you basically live at his house. You’re really only at your flat to change clothes. You have a toothbrush, pajamas, and half a wardrobe at Jamie’s. Your books have started to make their way onto his shelves too, as you read them and then leave them for him to start. That was a little bit of an accident at first, after you left This Side of Paradise one night and came back to a different bookmark on page 34.

Anyway, Roy Kent doesn’t know you’re dating Jamie, or that anyone is. You suppose in his mind, Jamie is happily single, fucking around like the twenty-something year old footballer he is.

Roy is still looking at you expectantly, so say, “I do live here. Why don’t you come in?” and hold open the door a bit wider.

Roy’s face says fuck it, and he follows you inside to the kitchen.

“Can I get you some tea?” you ask quietly, although Jamie can sleep through anything.

Roy seems surprised by the question, but says, “Yeah, sure,” as he stands by the kitchen island.

“Jamie’s sick,” you say. “He’s still asleep upstairs. I doubt he’ll be up for training today.”

“Right, yeah,” says Roy, “I’m sorry, but who the fuck are you? Jamie’s not fucking supposed to be doing the whole one-night stand thing, he told me it’s too fucking distracting from training.”

You chuckle. “That’s comedy gold right there. Yeah, no, I’m not a one-night stand. I’m his girlfriend.”

Roy’s impressive eyebrows lift in shock, and you laugh again and give him your name. “Didn’t know I existed, did you? I’m not one for crowds or a big fuss. I told Jamie if we made it four months than he could start telling people. He was a little upset, but,” you shrug, “no point in making it a big deal if we just break up, right?”

You can practically see the wheels turning in Roy’s brain as he does the math.

“So you’re telling me that you’ve been fucking dating this little prick for three fucking months, and he hasn’t fucking said anything?”

You nod.

“Fuckkk,” Roy whispers, “that makes so much fucking sense.”

You quirk an eyebrow at him.

“He’s been less of a prick recently,” Roy explains, “More considerate, been carrying around fucking books and shit. Not fucking flirting with everything that fucking moves. Thought maybe he was just taking beating Zava too fucking seriously.”

You nod and move to pour the tea. You and Roy both turn as you hear footsteps coming down the stairs. It’s Jamie, who is wearing a headlamp, pajama shirt, athletic vest, and a single sock. And, thank God, pants.

“Ready for training coach,” he says with a salute, but the action almost makes him fall over. He looks all pale and sweaty, with bags under his eyes.

“Told you he was sick,” you say.

“Fuckin’ hell,” is all Roy can come up with.

Jamie seems to notice you for the first time and breaks out into a smile. “Roy! Look! I have a girlfriend,” he says, words a little slurred while pointing to you.

It’s punctuated by a “Jesus Christ,” from Roy as Jamie wobbles, unsteady on his feet from his fever.

“Alright, mister,” you say. “Back to bed.”

Jamie frowns. “Always so mean,” he says. He does an imitation of your voice, “No Jamie, you can’t tell Roy about us. Yes Jamie, I know Roy’s your best friend. No Jamie, I don’t think you love Roy more than me.” He looks at Roy as you sling his arm around your shoulders, supporting him at his waist. He puts his fingertips on your lips as he says, “See what I have to put up with?”

You roll your eyes and suppress a smile as Roy says, “What you have to put up with?”

Jamie is so loopy right now. He lays his head on yours and smiles again. “Look at this. Me two favorite people, finally meeting. You should stay for dinner, coach.”

Roy rolls his eyes and shakes his head. You can tell he’s trying not to laugh as you both mutually decide not to point out that it is now 4:30am and dinner is a long, long way away.

“Let’s go get you out of those clothes and into bed,” you say as you start to lead him back to your room.

Jamie casts a look back at Roy and wiggles his eyebrows. “Babe, you can’t just say things like that in front of granddad. Might give him a heart attack. Old people are such prudes.”

“Go to sleep, Tartt,” Roy says. He looks at you and says softly, “I can see myself out.”

You smile and wave with your free hand. “It was nice to meet you,” you say. “Hopefully we can meet again under more normal circumstances.”

Roy nods once and does what you think is a smile? He turns and heads out the door as you maneuver Jamie upstairs. Jamie Tartt has a girlfriend. And a good one at that. What is the world coming to?

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt #ted lasso

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milesmolasses · 11 months

Text

pretty baby (e-42 miles x black! fem!reader)

— car rides with miles nvr fail to make u queazy

— ⚠️: light cursing, slightly suggestive, slight angst, kinda sensitive reader

"you are unbelievable, y'know that?"

sitting in the car scrunched up with your legs close to your chest, you turned your whole body away from the driver's seat, trying to avoid any and all contact with the driver. after what happened today, you didn't think you could ever face miles again, too embarrassed to talk to him the entire car ride.

"it wasn't even that big a deal baby, i'm sure nobody even cared like that," he chuckled. he thought it was childish how such small moments could affect your mood for such wildly long periods of time.

"I sucked the syrup off your fingers miles, in front of all your friends. i'm humiliated!" you cried, putting your hands over your face and bending down into your lap; anything to avoid eye contact with him.

looking back at the road with a smirk on his face, he said, "if it makes you feel better, I didn't mind it..-"

"MILES!" you whined as you snapped your head in his direction. "how could you say that to me right now?!"

"oh– ok i'm sorry baby, but that doesn't mean you have to act like this-!"

you rolled your head back as you groaned and covered your face with your hands again; he didn't get it. the way you were perceived was extremely important to you, especially in front of people who you deemed important. you didn't want your boyfriends' friends to perceive you as some sort of sex fiend.

"just drive miles. you don't get it."

furrowing his eyebrows, he turned the block and pulled into a mcdonalds parking lot near your house. "then make me understand, hm? why are you letting this stupid shit affect you?"

"oh my god miles just take me home, please I don't wanna talk about it–"

"no, see 'cause now you have my attention, what's the matter?" if there was one thing you knew about miles, it's that he won't let shit go, especially when it comes to you.

"miles, i swear to god if you don't drive me home i'm gonna get out this car and walk," you threatened. you could feel tears begin to form in your eyes and the burning feeling you get in your gut when you're about to cry. miles noticed your chest rising and falling, a telling sign you were about to cry; this only pushed him further.

"you not goin' nowhere. not until you talk to me, so here's what we gon' do; we will sit in this car and we won't move until you start talking," he said as brought his hand up to your face, wiping the tear that escaped your waterline before it could drip and ruin your makeup.

your face scrunched up at the small gesture and you pressed your lips in a tight line. suddenly the burning feeling burned even hotter, and the saliva in your mouth began to increase. more tears slipped from your eyes. in a soft yet pleading voice, you asked, "please, can I just go home?"

he furrowed his eyebrows as he looked at your state and it was then he could tell this was a real problem. "ay baby.. eres mi vida. talk to me," he cupped your face with both of his hands as they caught the tears falling. with your face smushed in his hands, he leaned in to give you a smooch, not caring if your lipgloss got all over him– he just wanted to see you smile for him.

"I don't want them to think badly of me miles.. they all looked at me funny and were cheering when I did it. I humiliated myself in front of them," you spilled, not wanting to keep it in anymore. and to be honest, it felt weird crying in your boyfriends' hands and not into your pillow alone in your room.

putting his forehead to yours, he said, "hey, look at me; you don't always have to worry about impressing everybody. everybody don't matter, you understand me? only me and you, ok? ion' wanna see you crying over some pinche pendejos who don't got they own girls and haven't matured since middle school."

you giggled softly as you sniffled your nose.

"there's that pretty smile," he mumbled as he gave a kiss to the top of your head.

"my pretty girl…”

you could feel your face get warmer after what he said, the indication, that big yet subtle word “my” sticking out to you like a sore thumb.

“what, you like that? like when I call you that mi vida?” you knew he would never let you live this down, and this would be one of your many nicknames he would use on you to get you flustered to his own advantage.

“shut up—”

“what, you don’t wanna be my pretty girl?” he inquired whilst leaning back to look at you, feigning disappointment.

“of course I do miles-”

“then lemme hear you say it chiquita— c’mon I wanna hear you say it,” he said sounding very suave. you grew weak in the knees whenever miles deepened his voice while speaking to you, and he definitely used this to his advantage. thank goodness you we’re sitting down because lord knows if you were standing, you wouldn’t be able to hold yourself together without bending over backwards for him.

your eyes wandered to anywhere else in the car, not wanting to see the look on miles face when you said what you were about to say, “i’m your pretty girl.”

“yeah, I know that’s right.”

– i wanna be his pretty girl so bad lol

#earth42 miles #miles morales #miles morales x reader #miles g #prowler miles #spiderman miles morales #across the spiderverse #into the spider verse #earth 42 miles morales #earth 42 miles x reader #miles x reader

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takenbypeter · 4 months

Note

Hi! I LOVED your Wonka x reader fic! Could I maybe request something?? Maybe one where she's the last one stuck in the laundry after everyone else gets rescued and he needs to go back for her? I love angst and fluff haha

All good if not! Love you

Trapped In Your Own Thoughts

Willy Wonka x reader

Words: 961

I am loving all the Wonka love I'm seeing, every time I write for a new character I wonder if anyone will actually request for them so seeing people request for Willy Wonka truly makes me heart melt

Abacus, Piper, Larry Chucklesworth, Lottie Bell, Noodle and you stood in a straight line across from Mrs.Scrubbit as she peered from behind the counter.

What you thought was going to be a tiresome scolding from the woman turned into something unexpected as she laid pounds of money out on the table. She first stated how Mr.Wonka had settled a deal with Mr.Slugworth covering all your bills. And one by one she went down the line addressing every individual until it was just you and Noodle left.

“It’s funny,” Scrubbit says as she stares at the last pile in front of her before glaring directly at you, “Mr.Slugworth didn’t seem to leave a single sovereign for you. Guess you're not important eh?”

You stilled, unable to believe your own ears as Scrubbit smirked at your disheartened reaction. “…this must be some sort of mistake,” you muttered before getting cut off.

“—No mistake at all,” she grinned a toothy grin, “in fact your name didn’t come up at all. So don’t just stand there. Back to work with you,” she ushers and stunned you look around trying to wake yourself from this nightmare that you found yourself trapped in.

“Go.”

With a wave of her hand, you walked past them shutting the door behind you. “Now, for our dearest Noodle…” you heard her voice fade away as you walked to the laundry room in a daze.

You could not believe this was happening. Of course this would happen to you. You shook your head unable to stop the thoughts from swirling as you walked down the hallway past all the now empty rooms, past your own room until you came to the laundry doors.

Climbing down the steps and looking around at the now lifeless room, it was impossible for you to do anything but dwell on the whole situation.

You were stuck here. Alone.

Being here with a group was one thing but alone? That was something you wouldn’t ever wish upon your greatest enemy, (that is if you had one).

This had to be an error. Why would everyone else be free except for you? It didn’t make any sense.

Then your mind slipped back to what Mrs.Scrubbit said about Willy making the deal.

Did he know you were to stay back? No he couldn’t have. Right? Right. You tried to assure yourself before you even had the chance to doubt him any further. That man was too good and too precious for him to accept this deal knowing you’d continue to be held captive like this.

You went back and forth, replaying Mrs.Scrubbit’s words, trying to figure out what could’ve happened.

Was Mrs.Scrubbit right? Were you just unimportant?

Your mind goes back to those few late evening conversations that you’ve shared with Willy. It was kind of silly for you to think anything from that. It was foolish in general for you to think so much of the young man, especially when you’ve only known him for a short period. But you couldn’t help but feel hurt.

Was it that easy to forget you and move on?

Maybe all those experiences just meant something to you.

You could only grind your teeth as you dove deeper and deeper into your self deprecating thoughts. It was difficult to pull yourself out when there was nothing else or knowone else to distract you.

Your thoughts silenced as a screaming pile of bedsheets fell down the chute landing with a hard thud.

The fabric shifted and you spotted familiar brown curls pop out followed by Willy’s head. “I can’t wait for that to be over,” you heard him say as he grunted while climbing out from the chute.

“Willy…” you let out, more surprised than anything to see him.

“Come with me, we’re getting you out of here,” he declared, running up to you without wasting a beat, “we already gathered everyone else, so let’s go.”

He runs back to the chute, waving for you to come over and you do so. Willy prepares an empty cloth bag as well as some laundry so you have a gentler landing and he then pats the empty spot.

You prop yourself up occupying the chute and with your legs bent you hug them close as he scrambles to tug the bag up over your legs.

Thinking about it now, your wandering beliefs were all so idiotic, but for some reason in that moment, you couldn’t stop them from slipping past your lips.

“I thought you were going to leave me behind,” you chuckled.

You meant for it to sound as just a childish passing statement but Willy immediately paused his movements, his arms coming to rest on both sides of the chute around your legs.

“I’d never leave you behind,” he voiced.

It was impossible to stop a tiny shy smile from spreading onto your lips, “yeah, I know but, I don’t know it was just a passing thought.”

“Hey,” he lowered himself to meet you at eye level as you sat, “I would never leave you behind,” he repeated his statement from earlier, his tone soft and delicate yet firm.

It was a simple phrase, but coming from him it meant something to you.

A new concern popped into your head, “wait, what about the contract?” You questioned, suddenly worried about the consequences that would follow.

Willy replied with a smile that told you he already had an answer ready, “don’t worry about that, we have a plan.”

You nodded, allowing yourself to trust the boy before he wrapped your head tying a simple knot.

“I’ll see you on the other side,” he said, giving your leg an affectionate pat before sending you on your way out.

#willy wonka x reader #willy wonka fanfiction #willy wonka fanfic #wonka x reader #wonka fanfiction #wonka fanfic #wonka 2023

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backwardsbread · 2 months

Note

Your “Hazbin Hotel Characters Forgetting an Anniversary” has become a comfort post of mine. You did such a good job with it and did amazing in capturing their personalities as well!

I was wondering if I could request an Adam fic? Like one where he realizes that he actually cares about reader, but he goes about showing that in the strangest ways? He may be a massive obnoxious jerk in the show, but he somehow made his way to being a favorite of mine in the show.

My heart- opening my inbox and seeing this made my day-

I’ve also been obsessing over Adam fics lately so seeing something with Adam get requested made me SO happy! I am happy to oblige~!

Adam x Gn!Angel!Reader

~Feelings are Fucked~

Warnings‼️: Adam being Adam, mutual pining, swearing, maybe OOC?

~Not proofread~

Listen. I don’t gotta tell you that Adam is always up his own ass.

Dude is OBSESSED with himself.

He would be the type of guy to be like;

“Oh yeah, have you heard of the BIBLE?? I’m kinda in it, no big deal.”

He’s on his own mind 99.9% of the time. His needs, wants, desires.

He’s so Self centered it’s not even funny-

So IMAGINE how he feels when you start to pick your way into his thoughts. And he has no idea why.

(Obviously Adam was the superior being, why should you have all people be on his mind??)

It’s easy for him to brush away these random thoughts of you. He could easily distract himself with material things to get his mind off the topic.

Eventually when distractions stop working, he feels like he’s going crazy.

He’s got a lot of things to do in Heaven, yet you feel like the most important ones to him.

I can see Adam being a huge flirt in the beginning. If he can get you to fall for him as hard as he has for you, he’ll consider it a win.

But he doesn’t really realize how much of a dick he comes off as. He absolutely makes a fool of himself majority of the time.

Gives the vibe of him saying something lowkey offensive while laughing and you just staring at him blankly and asked ‘What’s so funny?’

It’s frustrating for him how he can’t seem to get to you.

He doesn’t ask for advice from anybody, but I can definitely see Lute giving her 2 cents while Adam is ranting about how ‘annoying’ you are.

Her biggest piece of advice being for him to just stfu sometimes and actually listen to you.

Adam will never admit how much that actually helped him, it seemed like such a simple solution that he just hadn’t been doing.

So instead of being this overbearing flirt, he’ll just listen to you talk, occasionally chiming in with his own banter. Through this he learns a lot more about you.

And he makes an effort to show you he’s been listening.

You mention your favorite candy? He grabs some for you whenever he’s out getting snacks.

You mention a favorite scent of yours? Suddenly his whole house smells like it whenever you come over.

Got a favorite flower? He just so happened to see some at the garden and brings you one.

Of course he makes sure to follow up his kind gestures with a flirty or snarky remark. Trying to be this big tough guy despite how sweet he’s being to you.

He doesn’t realize how much of a total sap he’s being and how obvious his feelings are for you.

I can totally see Adam’s love language being gift giving and physical touch.

He’s not good with words. Never has been, never will be.

So he often shows his care for you by poking your side or cheek, resting his head or chin on your shoulder, ruffling your hair, or keeping one of his wings behind your back to make sure your close to him.

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

Adam was walking along the streets of heaven with you, ranting about how his superior Sera, was supposedly being a Karen.

In his words she ‘wouldn’t get off his dick’ about his behavior and language. You listened to Adam’s ranting, letting him express his frustrations despite how petty the situation might’ve been. You occasionally let out hums of acknowledgment and nod towards him to show you were listening.

While you’re paying attention to him, a few angels who seemed to be in a rush, nearly bump into you from behind. Adam catches a glimpse of the angels coming your guys’ way, and extends his wing out to shield you from the other angels.

He grabs your hand, bringing you closer to him while his wing wraps around your torso. He waits for the angels to pass by, giving them an extremely fake smile as they flew by. Once they were out of sight, Adam’s smile falls and he grumbles to himself, pulling his wing back to his side.

“Stupid, fucking… can’t watch where they’re going?”

He keeps your hand in his own, continuing to grumble how some angels needed to mind their business and watch where they were going. The two of you continue to walk, but Adam’s voice seems to drown out, and you can only really focus on your hand in his own.

Sure Adam had been affectionate to you many times, but never in public. It wasn’t something that bothered you either. You just felt anxious butterflies fly around your stomach, a sense of pride welling up in your chest that Adam was holding your hand. As the two of you are about to reach your destination, you finally speak up to Adam before you would have to depart from him.

“Hey, are you.. doing anything.. tomorrow evening?”

You ask, scratching the back of your neck a bit with your free hand. Warmth spreads across your face as Adam just kind of stares at you for a moment, pondering.

“Uhh, got a few boring ass meetings after noon, but otherwise, I’m chilling for the rest of the night.”

“Would you.. want to go out to dinner tomorrow? If you’re up for it.”

Your question seemed to go over Adam’s head of what your intentions were. Free food was free food, (and time spent with you was a plus)

He lets his ego take over for a bit, putting a proud hand over his chest. His grin shines across his mask, spreading from ear to ear.

“I suppose I can make some time for you. As long as I get to pick the place.”

You can’t help but chuckle, face flushing hues of pink when Adam agreed. You smile brightly, finally letting go of Adam’s hand.

“Sounds good! Let’s say around 5 or 6?”

“Don’t rush me babes, I’ll text ya when I’m headed over.”

Adam says nonchalantly, crossing his arms. Despite his attitude, you watch his eyes shift away from you, avoiding your gaze. He’s embarrassed and you can tell by how his guard started to come back up. You had learned these little telltale signs Adam had. You chuckle, simply waving to Adam, wishing him good luck on his meeting and telling him you’ll see him tomorrow.

Adam smiles genuinely, giving a small wave back, before turning towards the large angelic building to head inside. Lute was waiting by the door for him and she just so happened to hear your guys’ little exchange. Adam’s whistling to himself, his heart beating fast in his chest but he can’t put his finger on the exact reason as to why.

Lute looks towards him, raising a suspicious brow. She sighs seeing how Adam was oblivious to what he had just agreed to. While holding the door open for Adam to enter the building, she speaks.

“You know they just asked you on a date, right?”

Adam’s whistling comes to a complete stop, his body freezing where he stood. Lute glances up at him, pressing her lips together so she doesn’t laugh at Adam’s look of shock.

“They fuckin’ what??”

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin adam #hazbin adam x reader #adam x reader #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin x reader #x reader #character x reader #hazbin lute #hazbin hotel lute

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preeningpisces · 1 month

Text

JJK Men & Their Love Languages

I’m of the belief everyone feels/gives love with all 5, but I'm picking their top ones for giving & receiving.

Includes: Choso, Geto, Gojo, Nanami and Toji

Let me know your thoughts 🩷

Below the cut! Pure fluff

Choso

Giving: Acts of Service

♡ Choso is fiercly protective and doting, it only makes sense that his way of expressing affection is doing everything he can to make your life better. Being loved by Choso is becoming a bit of a princess LOL he will offer to do just about everything for you. Oh, you forgot your phone in the other room? Sit back down he'll get it. You need to carry in groceries? Don't worry about it, he'll bring them all in and put them away. He feels the need to take care of the people he loves

Receiving: Physical Touch

♡ His body is brand new! Like Gojo he's touch-starved, but because it's all new to him it amazes him that you choose to be with him. Not just in the sexual way, but simply the act of hugging him, or playing with his hair makes him feel loved and cherished. Grounds him in his body. He can’t separate physical from emotional, sees them as one in the same when it comes to love & intimacy

Geto

Giving: Quality Time

♡ Making an effort to seek you out and spend time with you is a sign he’s into you, because he really enjoys his alone time! Love from him is taking time/effort to plan dates/hang outs, prioritizing you & not making you feel like you’re just getting his leftover time. It shows his attentiveness, that he knows what you enjoy doing. He isn’t the type that invites you over & just plays video games the whole time—he always has something in mind that you’ll both enjoy, even if it’s as simple as watching a show together. Or just something you enjoy! As long as it makes you happy

Receiving: Gift Giving

♡ I think this one might come as a shock but hear me out. Gifts don't have to be bought, they can be as simple as seeing a cool rock and giving it to your partner. For Geto the reminder that you're thinking about him when he's not around, and that you know what he likes makes him feel loved. Honestly, non-material things are usually more his speed. Sending song recs, funny memes, sending updates about your day, facts you think he'll find cool, etc. He’s very considerate & observant of the ppl he loves, having it reciprocated means a lot to him

Gojo

Giving: Physical Touch

♡ Physical touch doesn’t equal sex. For Gojo, being in love means being vulnerable, and allowing himself to turn off limitless. Because he has so much space between him and the world, he’s pretty touch-starved, and is almost clingy with you. Always wants a hand or arm around you, cuddling, etc. Gojo is kind of emotionally constipated, so he's better at expressing affection physically than verbally. Childish in the way he likes to pester you affectionately, like poking or pinching you. Prepare for bear hugs where he squeezes the shit out of you

Receiving: Quality Tme

♡ Gojo is a living legend, it's almost like the name Satoru Gojo doesn't even refer to him as a person anymore--just the Strongest. Because of this, Gojo feels loved when you see him for him, and want to spend time with him because you like him for just being Satoru. Inviting him over to watch a movie, or hell, just play on your phones in each others presence makes him feel wanted. It’s his presence you want, not his name

Nanami

Giving: Gift giving

♡ You know he fucks w/ you if he’s spending his $$ on you. He shows his love quietly, and through his actions. Love from him is picking up your favorite pastry when he gets bread for himself, buying the shirt you pointed out in the window shop & surprising you with it; he doesn’t make a show of giving it to you, instead he’ll just leave it folded where you can find it. Secretly enjoys when you make a big deal about it tho. It shows he always has you on his mind, and pays attention to the things you like. He just likes to see you happy and smiling!

Receiving: Acts Of Service

♡ Nanami is the type to bear others’ burdens. We hear him say things like ‘leave it to me,’ ‘I’ll take care of it,’ etc. Someone who wants to take care of him makes his heart leap. Someone who is concerned about his wellbeing, and checks up on him. Someone who will offload some of his stress simply because they care, and aren’t looking for something in return. Knowing what he needs and how to help him without needing to be asked

Toji:

Giving: Acts of Service

♡ I’ve touched on this before but Toji takes care of you when he’s in love. Very passively, similar to Nanami, but I think he gets more embarrassed if you make a big deal of it. He’s the type to go put gas in your car for you, or wake up early to scrape the ice off your windows & shovel the driveway so you aren’t late for work.

Receiving: Words of Affirmation

♡ Toji was raised to believe he’s trash & not good enough, I think hearing encouragement & being appreciated verbally means a lot to him. Telling him you need and want him makes him feel loved. Not necessarily sappy things, more of appreciative commentary/observations if that makes sense—things that are grounded in reality. Saying he’s the moon to your stars or something isn’t going to mean shit to him. But telling him you couldn’t have done X without him? That’s what makes him feel loved. Lowkey has low self-esteem, pls tell this man he's means the world to you :(

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banquetwriter · 29 days

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hey !! I’d like to request a Johnnie x reader that has to do with you guys getting into some kind of fight and it’s just super bad so you leave and you guys go without talking and eventually Johnnie comes and apologizes to you and you guys talk it out

୨୧ Puffy eyes ୨୧

pairing: Johnnie Guilbert ♡︎ Reader

warnings: ୭̥⋆*｡ screaming, arguing, lots of crying, Johnnie being desperate lol, not edited

summary: ʚ Johnnie and you fight and the makeup that happens after • fluff/angst ɞ

Words: 2891

An: Tara is my #1 and NO ONE can change that, the I'm doing my requests out of order bc i had more inspo for this one lol

You hadn't had ANYTHING to eat today. You were helping a friend out by watching her kid so obviously you couldn't leave the kid unattended. After a few exhausting hours, you had to help your different friend go shopping at a formal event they had coming up.

It was safe to say your brain was fried and scrambled. You set your bag down on the counter and fill up a glass of water. You took a second to let yourself sit in your misery before placing the empty cup in the sink and making your way to your shared room with Johnnie.

You slowly creaked open the door, he was sitting on his phone in his editing chair. You didn't even say anything, just sat your bag down and flopped onto the bed. But to your surprise, Johnnie doesn't say a thing, he just continues to type away on his phone.

Realistically it wasn't a big deal, sure it was annoying but texting people made him nervous so he was a slow texter. You rolled over onto your back looking up at the ceiling, then to your boyfriend.

You stared at him for at least a minute before you were fed up. “Johnnie?” you asked in a small voice. He silently looked up at you, not even putting his phone away. “What?” he asks after a beat of silence. You try to speak by opening your mouth but nothing comes out.

You get tears well up in your eyes, how embarrassing, you eventually managed to stutter out your thoughts. “N-nothing i-i just wanted to m-make sure you were ok.”

“Yeah. I'm fine,” he said looking back down at His phone. You wanted to cry, your annoying day wasn't getting any better. “OK, good. Let me know if you aren't,” you said, but your words seemed to fall on deaf ears. He didn't react, just continuing to text.

You inhaled sharply trying to prevent the tears threatening to spill from leaving your eyes. “What's wrong with you?” he asks in a bored tone.

The phrase takes you by surprise. He didn't ask what was wrong or if you were ok he asked what was wrong with you. Like it was some sick joke. “What?” you ask, staring at him, your eyes were already droopy, and could barely hold steady.

“You're just all whiny and bitchy right now,” he said, shrugging. You were taken aback. Never in your time dating Johnnie has he EVER said anything like this to you. “I’m-” you started trying to compose yourself from blowing over.

You're interrupted by the sounds of a digital keyboard clacking away. You look back at him to see he is no longer looking at you or paying any sort of attention to you but is instead texting again. Your sadness and pain turned to anger in a second.

“Who are you texting?” you ask in the most level-headed voice you can muster. “What?” he asked looking up again. “I asked ‘Who are you texting?’” you repeated. He stared at You blankly like it was a joke you were pulling on him.

But there was no joke, you were dead serious. “Just work stuff,” he muttered, continuing to type. Jealousy and suspension ran through your body, curious as to why he was acting so angry. He was also hiding who he was talking to.

Was he cheating?

You cursed yourself as soon as you thought about it. No. Johnnie would never. But would he? “No I get that but who?” you asked, sitting up. He eyed you in a funny manner, “Someone I'm trying to collab with.” he said, for once in this whole conversation not looking down at His phone.

“Cool. But who is it?” you ask again your suspicion growing tenfold. “Just this girl I-” You don't let him finish before you cut him off. “Girl?” you ask in a loud voice. His phone turns off automatically from inactivity. “Yeah. Is there a problem with me having female friends?” he asks, turning his chair towards you.

You squint your eyes at him as if to ask ‘Are you serious?’. “No, I have no issue with you having female friends. I am in what I thought was a very secure relationship. What I have issues with is you treating me like a little bitch and then hiding who you're texting, when it's some girl you're gonna “collab” with.” you say adding air quotes around your words.

The tension was thick, laced with the mallace your words held. “Woah. ‘What you thought was?’” he quotes sitting forward in your chair. “Hey, you listened to me for once! Good job!” you replied in a mocking cheery voice.

“So you're just gonna fucking dump me over what I do for work?” he said standing up. Your world felt like it was spinning. ‘Dump him?’ you hadn't mentioned breaking up with him but… if that's the first thing he thought of maybe he wanted that.

“Dump you?” you ask. “When have I said anything about that? I'm just upset with you,” you said, your tiredness gone. “Yeah upset at me for doing work!” he shouts at you. Johnnie hasn't yelled at you this whole time you've been dating.

You can't hold your tears in anymore. His loud demeanor cuts through your already fragile heart like a razor blade. You don't say anything letting your tears fall. Johnnie's face contours with regret at his words. “Y/n I-” he begins but you cut him off.

“I was never upset at you for doing your work. You treated me like shit and ignored me to text another girl, one you won't even tell me the name of.” your voice was calm but filled with anger. You slowly stood up reaching for your bag.

Johnnie followed suit trying to hold you. You smacked his contact away from you, his arms still outstretched as he slowly took a step back from you. Your eyes had turned into faucets, leaking all your sadness out. “Don't call me. Don't text me. If you think I am going to break up with you over a tiny argument, maybe we shouldn't talk at all.” you spat between your tears.

“Y/n no! I didn't mean-” but the rest of his words don't register as you grab your bag and run out of the room without bothering to close the door. He follows you, saying things your brain doesn't let you pick up. You practically ran downstairs where Jake was walking into the house.

He noticed something was clearly wrong and started to say something that you again couldn't hear. You brushed right past him leaving your house and getting into your car. You didn't know what or where you were going; you just drove.

You found yourself heading towards Tara’s house. You didn't know if she was even home or could have people over. You say in your car resting your forehead against your steering wheel. You reluctantly picked up your phone and dialed Tara’s number.

“Heyy girl,” Tara said. You tried to keep your voice level but failed. “Um, Tara? Are you home?” you asked, your voice breaking. You peeked in her driveway not seeing her flashy pink car. “Omg y/n I'm not no are you ok? What happened?” she asked quickly.

“Me and Johnnie got into a fight and he-” your voice broke with a sob. “I'm shopping right now but give me 15 I can be at my house! Where are you right now? Are you still there?” she asked in a panicked voice. “No, I left, I'm at your house,” you said, your voice creaking.

“Ok hang tight I will be right there,” she said before hanging the phone up. You put your phone on Do Not Disturb not having time to deal with anyone's bullshit right now. You stayed in your car just sobbing your eyes out.

It wasn't like you and Johnnie hadn't had arguments before but they weren't like this at all. He hadn't ever yelled. They usually get resolved quickly. But that was all gone now. You two probably weren't even dating anymore.

The idea just made you cry harder, you could see through bleary eyes that Tara had pulled in. She hastily got out of her car and ran to yours. You undid your seatbelt and opened the door. Tara’s arms were on you in an instant.

You continued to cry as she pulled you out of the car and helped you into her house. All you could do was bawl your eyes out on her couch. Tara ran around her house finding you some tissues then a cup of water then some vegan chocolate (better than nothing right) and eventually, she door-dashed you some Taco Bell.

By this point, your blubbering had cooled down and you were able to recount the argument to your loving friend. “He yelled at you? I don't think I've ever heard his voice get loud enough to register a yell.” Tara mumbles while taking a bite of her food.

You wipe your tears away nodding your head in agreement. “I don't even think we are together anymore,” you said, shrugging your shoulders. It's crazy how life can be so perfect then it comes crashing down out of nowhere.

“I don't think that's right y/n,” Tara says looking at you opening a sauce packet. You just shrug in response, how could this happen to you? You two felt so perfect. It was all broken now huh?

After a moment of silence, Taras's phone goes off. “Oh god, it's a call from Johnnie,” she mutters while picking it up. “Hello?” she asks, standing up and waking to the other side of the room.

You could tell she was trying to not let you hear the conversation. Fortunately or unfortunately you did hear. “Johnnie I don't think we should be really-” she stops for a second, you can't hear what he is saying but you know it's something long as for the next several seconds you hear nothing.

“Johnnie Johnnie calm down please,” Tara said, her voice much calmer than it was when she answered the phone. “I'm not going to tell you where they are-” Tara was cut off again. You can't hear him clearly but you can't tell he is hysterical.

She lets out a deep sigh, “Yes Johnnie they are safe I promise I'm looking at them right now.” she mutters, turning around to look at you. She looks at you for a little before you can hear the hysterical sounds again and she rolls her eyes looking back at the backdoor.

“You sniffle slightly looking down at the table before Tara comes pattering back over to you. “You need to talk to that boy soon,” she comments with an exaggerated look on her face.

You take a deep sigh and check your phone. Since you still had DND on you couldn't see any of your motifs, you unlock the phone to see that Johnnie had called you 48 times in a row. With several voicemails.

You turned on the first one to listen, checking the timestamp that was minutes after you left the house. “Hey, y/n please I'm sorry I didn't mean to make a big deal I was just upset earlier.” the voicemail clicked signaling it was the end. The next one was 30 minutes later.

“Hey, y/n please I'm getting really worried about you calling me back as soon as you can.” your heart burned as you heard his worried voice.

The next few voicemails were minutes apart.

“Y/n please I'm sorry where are you? Are you safe? Call me back, I'm sorry.” his voice was breaking and high-pitched.

“Y/n you have to call me back I'm so worried about you. Please I'm so sorry I promise we can work this out just call me.”

“Y/n, please! I never meant to hurt you. I swear that girl didn't even mean shit I didn't even wanna collab with her please.” he was sobbing now.

“Y/n please I'm gonna keep calling you until you answer.”

You checked and he had called you so much apparently he needed to call Tara to make sure you were ok. You felt your heart pinging after him wanted to just hear his voice again.

Just then your phone goes off with a call from Jake. Taras's eyes shoot up trying to see who it was. “It's just Jake,” you mutter before answering the phone. “Hello?” you ask.

There is silence before Jake answers back surprised, “Hey sorry I didn't think you would answer me um, look I know you're totally pissed at Johnnie which you have every right to be but do you think you could call him back? Uhh, I am not exaggerating when I say he is having a full-blown freakout right now.” Jake spoke the last part quietly.

Johnnie presumably was in the room with him so you took a deep breath. “Yeah, I can call him just tell him it will be a few ok? I didn't ignore his calls on purpose I had Do Not Disturb turned on,” you said looking at Tara while you spoke.

“Ok gotcha no worries just soon please he is freaking out right now,” Jake said again. “Bye Jake,” you muttered, hanging up the call. You took the phone from your ear and scrolled around till you found Johnnie’s contact. You took a deep breath before you called him.

He picked up instantly,“Y/n? Oh my god, you don't know how happy I was when you called. Are you ok? I mean I know you aren't ‘ok’ but are you safe?” he rambled for a second.

“Johnnie?” you asked quietly. There was silence on the other side. “Yes?” he croaked out quietly. “One question at a time, please calm down,” you said sadly. “Are you safe?” you took a deep breath. This was the Johnnie you fell in love with. The one who cared about you.

“Yes I'm safe at Taras,” you Said which did not make Tara happy, as she quickly made a cutting motion at her throat. “Ok. Ok good,” he said quietly. There wasn't any noise for a second. Both of you feel like kicked puppies.

“Can we talk in person? Please? I miss you.” he said, his voice filled with sadness. You would love to but you feared what would happen so close after the argument. “Yeah, we can just not today,” you promise him. He stays quiet over the line, you can feel his heart breaking.

“Yeah of course whenever you feel comfortable, ok?” He was trying and failing to sound very positive. You hung up the phone and spent the next few hours trying everything Tara thought would make you feel better. It was a sweet attempt but there wasn't much that could cheer your mood up.

Eventually, you made a makeshift bed on her couch and fell asleep. In the morning you borrowed Taras's bathroom and got ready. You hugged her goodbye and promised her that if you needed anything else you wouldn't hesitate to call.

Full of nerves you made your way to your own house. You stepped out of the car and unlocked your front door. You walked into the usually lively space that was now empty and sad. You gripped your bag tightly and made your way upstairs.

You opened the door to your room, and the sight you saw nearly shattered your heart into two. Johnnie, still wearing his clothes from yesterday, was clutching one of your sweatshirts. His eyes were bloodshot and puffy. Dark circles sat under his eyes.

He looked up at you as you entered the room. He didn't move, he just stayed on the bed. “Sweetheart-” you began dropping your bag and going to his side. He quickly wrapped his arms around you, nearly suffocating you with the force of holding you.

“I'm so sorry, I was upset because my computer crashed while I was editing and so I lost the footage and- it doesn't matter I'm sorry,” he mumbled into your shirt. Wet hot tears slowly slid down his face and made their way to your clothes.

“Johnnie, did you sleep last night?” you whispered towards him. He just shook his head no. “I forgive you. I promise. It was a stupid fight. I promise you I didn't and don't want to break up ok?” you said finally playing with his hair slightly.

“What did I do to deserve you?” he cried to you pulling away and meeting your eyes. “I don't know but it has to be something pretty good.” you joked. He laughed, wiping a few tears from his eyes. You assisted him with wiping them away by placing small kisses under his eyes.

You silently pulled him into the bathroom, getting him situated on the counter. You stood in between his legs cleaning off his day-old make-up. He sat silently as you tenderly cared for him. Eventually, you got him to drink a glass of water and helped him change into comfy clothes.

You lay down with him, being a big spoon of course. He made a million promises to you before dozing off. Your argument wasn't finished but it could take the back seat.

#johnnie guilbert x reader #johnnie guilbert angst #johnnie x you #johnnie #jake and johnnie #johnnie x reader #johnnie guilbert x you #johnnie guilbert fluff #johnnie guilbert #j

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rottiens · 2 months

Note

What are some random headcanons that come to your mind about Stalker Geto and Priest Toji? Both nsfw and sfw are welcome 😌

LURK | GETŌ SUGURU

✮ tags. . fem reader, stalker!getō, canon au, 18+ mdni ꒱₊˚⊹ divider credits. — playlist.

✮ wc. . 1.1k

✮ notes. i had to physically restrain myself from making this a whole fic, lord have mercy. what have you done to me? i'd like to explore this au more in the future and i'll be talking about toji in another post but give me time bc i need to recover from this.

the thing is, he justifies everything he does. he knows exactly the order of your coffee, and he sneaks into your apartment at night for the same reason: your good. he's just looking out for you, let him take care of you.

Satoru manages to get his friend to finally admit it.

"It's not being in love," he says. "I just admire her. she's strong." that's all, he assures him.

Despite Satoru trying, and provoking him with the situation, laughing in his face and joking about it, Satoru fails to make Suguru break down and admit it. Suguru inwardly recognizes that it's nothing more than a fleeting admiration that will pass soon, he's nothing more than infatuated with you and the way you deal with problems, kill curses, talk to people. He likes that about you, he doesn't like you, there is an abysmal step between one and the other— He tries to reason with himself.

However, he can't help but slide his eyes over you as if it's a must every time you enter the room, he doesn't know and hasn't asked Satoru if he feels it too but there is a magnetism to which he is attracted when you enter the room. He stops talking suddenly, clenches his jaw and Satoru notices the muscles tense —of course he does it with those all-seeing eyes—, before he can turn around in search of what his friend is admiring, Suguru speaks again, pushing the oval glasses on the tip of his nose up with his middle finger to cover his eyes completely and watch you in peace.

Oh, you're cute. He has to bite his lip and fake a laugh at something obviously not funny so his friend won't notice. He slyly looks you up and down, your hair is tousled, he imagines you running out of your house, leaving your phone behind and having to come back to get it because you're always early, that's why he's here.

But it's 10:48AM, he checks his wristwatch before returning to Satoru. You're forty minutes late and the thought makes him frown. Before he can stop the train of thought he's thinking about you, and the scenarios that could have happened to keep you from being early. You are always on time. He knows that.

You catch him looking, not really. You don't know because you can't see his gaze, but Suguru knows you're watching him out of the corner of your eye and with the sunglasses in between serving as a shield, he lets himself immerse in you without being overwhelmed by the fear that he'll be caught. You glance sideways at him again and soon flee to the table before you weighing up the idea of whether you should have tea or coffee.

You go for coffee, of course. With three sugar cubes, a pinch of cinnamon powder and a spoonful of honey. He's realized for a while now that he's good at those things, at remembering things you do, at remembering your coming and going patterns, how you take your coffee, the wrinkles your nose makes when you laugh, how uncomfortable you feel in your uniform sometimes, how dirty your shoes almost always are.

He sees you pick up honey and a spoon and it makes him smile. Next to him, Satoru laughs.

"Man. You really like her."

At some point Satoru moved to his side to look at you from the same point of view as Suguru. You turn to catch both teachers staring at you, suguru purses his lips into an awkward smile and raises his hand to wave at you. Satoru on the other hand, yells at you as if you’re not a few feet away from them and calls out euphorically with his hand for you to come closer. Suguru knows he is going to try to do something to leave you two alone talking and only this time Suguru allows it.

With coffee in hand you approach them both. His heart is about to burst out of his rib cage, his muscles tense as if ropes were squeezing them, he licks his upper lip looking to moisten his mouth and when you are in front of him he inhales slyly, you smell as if you have just stepped out of the shower, fresh, sweet, maybe that is the reason for your disheveled hair, maybe that is the reason for your tardiness.

And well, maybe he did have a crush, he could admit that to himself at least. A crush that would die soon, because Suguru wasn't one to date the same person for too long, people made him lose interest fast and he knows it would be the same with you.

That was two weeks ago. It's just a crush, he keeps repeating himself.

You're just his co-worker, another teacher, he tells himself. He's doing this for your sake.

He was supposed to check your apartment, exorcise a curse he saw slipping through a window as he walked past your place early in the morning, it's all a funny coincidence that he was in the right place, at the right time really and he decides to sneak out because he wants to look after you, that's all. He was going to come in and out and not touch anything, the sound of rain coming from the bathroom tells him that you'll be early for Jujutsu High today and he should get out of there soon. It's just that he didn't plan to find the red thong laid out as an offering for him on the bed, next to your pillow.

Suguru bites his cheek hard, his teeth that make him bleed control him just a little, the pain brings him lucidity but not enough to stop him when he takes two long strides to the bed. As if in a stupor he stands rigid on the edge of the bed contemplating the fabric that glistens with a wet trace in the center.

Suguru stretches out his fingers as instructed and takes it in his hand. Trembling he brings it to his nose and inhales shamelessly, his breathing heard in the four silent walls. His chest aches, his heart pounding. It smells like you, and he rubs the tip of his nose on it, closes his eyes, his long eyelashes flutter and all the blood rushes to his cock, he's so hard he can't think.

He flutters his eyes open returning to the warmth of your apartment, to the dull noise caused by a silent house, he hears footsteps upstairs from the neighbors or maybe it's yours because he no longer hears the water falling and without wasting time he puts the thong in the pockets of his uniform pants. There is another place where he should be now.

He was supposed to be in the teacher's room first when you arrived, he was going to see you earlier today and that's what matters most to him right now.

#cw dark content #stalker geto #wr #geto drabbles #jjk drabbles #geto x reader #geto x you #geto x y/n #geto smut #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #geto suguru x y/n #geto suguru smut

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sohnric · 3 months

Text

bad idea, right? – k. sunwoo

pairing: soundcloud rapper! sunwoo x gn! reader

genre: exes to lovers, angst, suggestive. i know this is toxic as fuck dont @ me sometimes i like to write shit like this because it's realistic...

word count: 4k

warnings: a whole lot of arguing, swearing, both of them being toxic and childish, a heated makeout session, overall just..messy. so messy.

a/n: similivinlife u inspired this. not my proudest moment but oh well 😵 the original of this draft was for the fic dancing in my backseat on @rrxnjun that i didnt end up using and revamped for this, so if u see any similarities it is because both fics are mine :P and once again, as always, thank u @csenke my sweetest beloved for beta reading 🤍

“I don’t think you can imagine the things I have to deal with about that track, like, I was literally in the town yesterday and around six people stopped me and wanted the backstory and I don’t know what, and it’s really, really annoying–”

Your voice cuts off, being replaced by a beat that makes acid taste on your tongue and hair stand up all alert, like a feral cat’s would when you try to get close to it, making you immediately turn off the song, letting a scream out into your pillow. There’s a storm of emotions inside of you as you take the phone you’ve been listening to the new song on back into your hand and pull up his number– because you blocked him everywhere else in hopes of never seeing his face again– and shoot him an angry text about the matter.

you [7:21pm]: are you kidding me???

you [7:21pm]: you are really so damn egoistical for doing this

you [7:21pm]: really don’t think about anyone else except yourself huh

you [7:21pm]: ignore my messages again like the last time and i swear to god i’ll send someone to beat your ass

Fingers quicker than your own thoughts, you hammer down the messages on the keyboard, laced with the fury that’s been shaking with you ever since you learned that he released a new track that included yet another one of your voice messages you sent to him. It was excruciating to listen to, to say the least– your dignity stripped away slowly, piece by piece with the unsettling realization that your personal matters are now out there in the open, for everyone to see and judge, for the whole world to pick apart and analyze. Which is kind of funny, considering the nature of your breakup– you’re not so sure his fans would like what they would find out about him, had they dug deep enough.

Not saying that you are innocent in this matter, of course– you just don’t think it’s really fair to not have the platform to tell your side of the story.

don’t pick up [7:24pm]: feisty one aren’t ya

don’t pick up [7:24pm]: what’s this about

Clenching your jaw as you stare at the messages popping up on your screen only a few minutes after yours get delivered– which is unusual for him, to say the least– you work your way through another angry reply.

you [7:25pm]: your song???

don’t pick up [7:25pm]: did you like it? ;)

A dry chuckle escapes your throat at the last message. Of course you didn’t like it. You weren’t really a fan of the invasion of your privacy. You didn’t like the fact that he once again used your voice without permission, letting the whole world listen to your angry words that were addressed to him and only him. What was there for you to like about the song? His cheesy lyrics? The way he acted like he was way above you, belittling you with the power he had over you with all those voice messages?

you [7:26pm]: yes i loved the invasion of my privacy a lot, thank you sunwoo

you [7:26pm]: isnt this illegal? ill look into it

don’t pick up [7:27pm]: now you’re being ridiculous.. its just a song y/n :)

Was he being serious? Just a song? What about the prying eyes staring at you whenever you walk through the campus? What about the whispering behind your back whenever you sit in the school cafeteria? The pointed fingers whenever someone recognises that it’s you– the one that dated the good-for-nothing Soundcloud rapper and then broke his poor little heart. Was it ever really just a song?

you [7:28pm]: you cant be fr rn..

don’t pick up [7:33pm]: ah…let’s just talk abt it then

don’t pick up [7:33pm]: i’ll pick u up at 8?

Staring at the messages on the screen, you let out another dry chuckle. The skin of your fingertips tingles when you swipe across the surface of your phone, opening the messaging app once again and tapping on the little bubble on the bottom, making the keyboard appear. The gears in your brain turn in swift motion as you try to sound nonchalant in your response, typing and deleting the message again, never getting the tone quite right.

Responding to your ex boyfriend’s jabs and teasing in person seems to be easier for you, contrary to popular demand– you don’t have much time to think of your answer before the time frame between your arguments would turn too awkward with the silence, so you just say the first thing that comes to your mind. It comes naturally to you, though, and while you don’t particularly enjoy the fury and adrenaline that his smug smirks and jarring words make you feel, the tension his sudden messages built up only makes you more hesitant.

You haven’t met up with Kim Sunwoo since the day you ended things, and you know damn well there’s a good reason for it.

Seeing him around campus or at parties of your mutual friends is a whole other thing than being with him in a closed space, all alone. It’s been a month since you ended things and while you are fairly certain that Sunwoo is a major jerk that is out to ruin your life, you can’t really tell if you’re actually over the major jerk that is out to ruin your life.

Seemingly letting Sunwoo know that you have the chat open, letting him watch your chat bubble pathetically appear and disappear in consistent time intervals, another quick message is shot your way, making your heart drum against your rib cage in even swifter motions. Running your hand through your hair, you sigh and drop the phone into your lap, helpless.

don’t pick up [7:40pm]: i’ll take it as yes

Sighing to yourself, you stand up from your bed and put on some presentable clothes. You don’t want to give Sunwoo any ideas, and that’s why you only change into clean sweatpants and a tank top, not putting much effort into your appearance at all. You need to send him the signal of being nonchalant– although your stance on the way he uses you in his songs is full of anger and resentment, you don’t want it to seem like you care much about the man himself at all.

Dragging yourself out of your room and putting on your shoes, you bump into your roommate Aeri passing you by with a mug of tea, her hair in a towel as she just came out of the shower. “You’re going somewhere?”

“Going out,” you grunt.

“Oh?” she hums, leaning into the doorframe, “with who?”

The question catches you off guard. Turning around on your heel, you flash her an innocent smile, brain thinking of every possible solution you could use to not tell her that you’re going out with the exact person you’ve spent the last few weeks grunting over in dismay. “No one important,” you start, when her face morphs into a distressed frown.

“Is it Sunwoo?”

“Look, I-”

“It is fucking Sunwoo! I heard you scream into your pillow just now, I should’ve known it was that prick again,” she grunts, her guess confirmed by the very obvious discomfort on your face, suddenly in a hurry when you try to get out of the house in one swift motion and save yourself from the cross-examining conversation that’s surely about to happen judging by the look in Aeri’s face.

“I gotta go-”

“What about all your ‘I don’t ever wanna see him again’ talk?” she sighs, clearly disappointed with your life choices.

“Look, it’s about the songs he’s been putting out. He’s being an ass about replying back to my messages and god knows I’m not calling him, or else he’d record it and put it in another song like the freak he is,” you squint your eyes at her, making sure your intentions are clear to your worried roommate.

“Oh, right, because he’s going out with you just to talk,” she mutters, “when all you two have done since you broke up is argue. Mhm, seems about correct,” Aeri adds, making the situation even worse than it already was, because she’s right, after all– when have the two of you held a normal conversation in the past few weeks? Seeing him tonight might just be the worst idea of your life– right after deciding to date him, of course– and you’re completely aware of the fact.

Opening your mouth to answer with a jarring comment meant to put your roommate back in her place, the words are taken off your tongue when you hear the ring of your phone, the notification on your screen flashing with his messages.

don’t pick up [8:04pm]: youre 5 mins late

don’t pick up [8:05pm]: come out

“Look, I gotta go. We’ll talk about this later,” you mumble as you take your bag off the hanger, Aeri’s disapproving eyes following you as you head towards the door.

“Right. Have fun,” she ironically sings, knowing very well what Kim Sunwoo’s intentions are for the night. Still, you fakely gag to her comment before you’re out the door and walking down the entryway.

As your figure walks out of the apartment complex, you almost don’t notice the man. You were expecting him to be waiting just behind the door, resting against the wall as he usually did back when you two were dating. The sight that meets your eye shocks you a little when you find him leaning against a 2007 Audi A4, the silver exterior of the car contrasting with the darkness of his clothes, hands folded on his chest as he watches you with an overly-confident smirk.

“Took you long enough,” he teases as you finally cut through the distance.

“Didn’t know you were so eager to see me,” you bite back, eyes scanning the vehicle. “Did you finally get a car with that new profession of yours? Or is that another one of your friend’s again?” you point towards the car, making the boy chuckle.

“Mine,” he says, “my ‘good-for-nothing career’ is taking off, as you may have noticed,” he hums, referencing all the arguments you two used to have about his dreams and ambitions, making you wince a little at the comment. You never believed in him ever making it big– you just didn’t think his dreams were ever really realistic– but judging by the way it’s been going for him, you must admit you may have been wrong with your snarky arguments before.

“Well, it’s not much, then,” you mutter instead, pretending to judge the state of his old, used-looking car.

“Gets the job done,” he shrugs as he peels himself off the door, opening the passenger side and sparing you a short glance. “Hop in?”

Sunwoo doesn’t wait for you to sit down so he can close the door after you– instead, he walks around the front of the car to the driver’s side, getting in himself– much to the gentleman he’s always been. Making sure you slam the door shut with as much force as you can, just to anger the man and his new toy, you fasten your seatbelt and watch as Sunwoo winces, but doesn’t mention it when he turns the engine on with a turn of the key and drives off the parking lot.

“Where are you taking me?” you ask, watching as the male snickers to himself. The calmness of his composure makes you oh so annoyed, making you despise every second spent together with him in the small space breathing in his cologne and listening to the songs playing through the speakers, reminding you of the playlist he’d always put on when he was given the privilege of the aux cord.

“What? Are you scared I’m gonna kill you?” Sunwoo jokes.

“Seeming that you’re batshit crazy, one can’t know what to expect from you nowadays,” you grunt, making him cheese with amusement.

“I thought I was just ‘a loser Soundcloud rapper that can’t do anything in life’,” he repeats to you a sentence you uttered out upon your breakup, the emotions getting the worst out of you after the way he’s been treating you. “Would a loser like me kill you? I don’t think so.”

“Very funny, Sunwoo,” you ironically bite back, rolling your eyes at his composure. The fact that he seemingly has the upper hand on you in the conversation makes you falter a little bit. “I just wanted to talk about the songs you’ve been putting out.”

“You wanted to tell me how much you like them? Thank you, I’m flattered–”

“No, you idiot. I wanted to talk to you about how uncomfortable they’re making me feel!” you yell out, making the male wince.

There’s a momentarily silence in the car as the male drives, the streetlamps disappearing out of sight as he drives away from the city, into more sparse areas. His voice is a little more serious when he speaks up now, the lack of teasing in his tone making shivers run down your spine. “I don’t think it’s that serious, really.”

“Really?” you chuckle. “Because I don’t find it fun when people stop me on the street and ask all about our relationship, Sunwoo. Because I don’t know if you noticed, but you never asked for my permission when you used those.”

The sound of your own voice resonates through your brain, the first voice message he ever used in one of his songs (the one that made him finally more popular, funnily enough) making you sigh out in the darkness of the car. ‘Just.. I dunno, I said sorry, I apologized, I don’t know what more you want me to do.. like, what’s going on? Literally nothing, so like.. can’t we just… move on from this and… fucking let it go?’

“One would think you’d stop sending me these after the first one,” Sunwoo utters out, voice low and almost a little amused, which makes you tip over the edge.

“And I would think you wouldn’t use audio of me being vulnerable with you in a fucking song that everyone would hear, Sunwoo!”

“Oh, did you mean that part where you called me a hypocrite for hanging out with my friends from high school without telling you? Or the part where you cursed me out after you broke up with me because I dared to text you again–”

“I was trying to pierce things back together!” you yell, making the male quiet down, resulting in taking a right turn towards a dead-end, the road approaching a forest. Not a single soul is to be found around here except the two of you, and when he turns the engine off, but stays staring ahead of him towards the trees, you continue with everything you’ve been holding inside of you– instead this time, your voice is more quiet, not having to scream over the sounds of the car anymore.

“I was apologizing. I was trying to make us work, Sunwoo. And just because you didn’t see it or didn’t have it in you to pay attention to me that night, it doesn’t give you the right to exploit me for your gain and make a fool out of me in front of everyone,” you say, watching as the male chews on the inside of his cheek.

“You are the one that broke up with me,” he says into the silence, “not the other way around.”

A moment of silence hangs over you two like a heavy jacket. You were well aware of the fact– you broke up with Sunwoo after the night he went out with all of his female friends from high school, not telling you a thing about it before you found out through an Instagram story of one of them. You knew he was being petty, you knew he was doing it just to get back at you– because you never passed out on a chance to make him feel jealous, getting back at him for all the controlling comments he would make whenever you went out to clubs with your girlfriends– but it still drove you up against the wall and made you break.

Maybe you and Sunwoo weren’t made for each other. There’s no denying that you loved each other– you just didn’t really know how to handle your relationship. You never really learned how to handle problems. How to resolve issues. Both of you were too immature for the other, and it would never work– you only came to this conclusion after many tear-filled evenings, but coming to peace with it is still yet to come.

“I don’t see how that’s relevant to this conversation,” you say, shaking your head in disbelief.

The male scoffs, turning his head towards you, meeting your eye. “Did you even listen to the songs?”

“Of course I did, how else would I know–”

“Then you must have noticed that I’m not making fun of you, or putting you on blast, or belittling you, or whatever you and your friends have said about me for the past month,” he counts on his fingers as he recites the words with an annoyed tone, big eyes bearing into yours.

“You exposed me being vulnerable.”

“I’m vulnerable in these too!” he urges out, eyebrows furrowing at you in exasperation.

“That’s your fucking choice! Don’t drag me into it!”

While you must admit that none of the lyrics Sunwoo’s ever written about you were lies, or making fun of you or throwing harsh words in your direction, you still feel as if a chunk of you has been thrown out in the open, for anyone to pick apart and poke around. You always told Sunwoo you liked his way with words, and there is no denying that his lyrics, although they were painfully honest, were quite beautiful. If you weren’t the one the songs were about, maybe you’d even like them. Maybe you could give them a listen without feeling like you want to crawl out of your skin. Maybe you could add them to your playlist without feeling ashamed that you’re still thinking about the male, picking apart your relationship like every outsider has been doing since the songs went viral, but instead, finding places where you could’ve done things differently and kept him by your side.

It was hard to listen to his words and see the reflections of your past flashing in front of your eyes like a movie. While you admit that he did the timeline of your relationship justice, you do despise the fact that his words are getting to you so much.

You don’t like hearing about the things you’ve done wrong. You don’t like listening to him apologize– although he would never do so directly. You don’t like to hear him say that he misses you, because it makes it hard for you to keep your fair distance from him.

“I don’t know what I was thinking… Can you drive me home, Sunwoo? We’re clearly not on the same page about this,” you say, averting your gaze from him towards the window.

“No.”

“Sunwoo, can you please drive me–”

“Not until we talk about this, no,” he says firmly, watching you foam over with fury.

“What else is there to talk about?”

“Us!”

“There’s no us anymore, Sunwoo! And I think it’s the time you come to terms with that and stop abusing our failed relationship for your stupid songs,” you bark, throwing daggers into his skull with your fierce eyes.

“So you get to go and post angry tweets and badmouth me in front of your friends, but when I cope in a perfectly respectful manner, it’s wrong?” he argues, scoffing and shaking his head at you.

“God, you’re unbelievable. You’re comparing two vastly different things–”

“Do you not like the songs because you feel exposed, or do you not like them because I’m saying exactly what you don’t want to hear?” he asks, eyes bearing into yours with such heaviness you feel like you could cut the tension with a knife.

“Like what? That you think I regret breaking up with you?” you scoff, shaking your head in disbelief.

“Why else would you pick a fight with me every time I call? Why pick it up at all?”

“Why do you call, then?” you challenge him, chewing on the bottom of your lip. The male leans closer to you, sparks dancing in his eyes when his voice resonates through the car like a low thunder, making the tips of your fingertips buzz and your heart beat faster.

“You know exactly why I call.”

“To make me angry and get me to scream at you?”

“If that means I get to talk to you,” he shrugs, a subtle grin overtaking his features, a churn of your stomach warning you of the dangerous area you just entered.

Eyes never breaking contact with his, relishing in the way his hungry gaze picks you apart, you attempt to conceal your true feelings with an annoyed comment. “This isn’t going anywhere,” you muse, “god, I never wanna see your face again.”

He clicks his tongue on the roof of his mouth, teasing you. “That’s what you said last time,” he says, “so what are you doing in my car then, babydoll?”

The pet name makes your stomach drop, the lightness in your head coming back to you as you furrow your brows at the male, trying hard to come up with a smart remark. Your brain turns into liquid and there’s buzzing in your ears as you try to focus on staying calm and true to your best judgment, but the moment Sunwoo’s head leans even closer to your face, his words render you both speechless and thoughtless as he mutters a sentence that’s barely louder than a whisper, yet powerful enough to pull you in.

“Stop fighting me for once, will you?”

Your lips are pushed against his with force, the kiss mirroring the essence of being starved of each other for the past month. His plush lips move against yours with the skill that only a man you’ve spent tens and hundreds of nights kissing would acquire, his hand placed on your jaw to steady you, adjusting the pace of his kisses just the way you always liked it.

A force that’s greater than yourself brings you out of your seat and into the driver’s lap, giving the male better access to your throat as you settle comfortably under your newly acquired human chair. His strong thighs flex under you when you thread your fingers through his hair, bringing him back up to connect your lips together before he breathlessly pulls away, gazing at you with a boyish grin on his face.

“Why did we even break up again?” he jokes.

You reply to him with the same lightness of your tone, shrugging. “Because you were a jealous, possessive prick and I had a short temper that always egged you on?” you say, watching as the male pretends to ponder on the information, humming to himself.

“I think I can put that past me.”

“Can you?” you joke, tracing his cheekbone with your thumb, a sly smirk playing with your lips as you lean over him and press a firm, yet short peck to his swollen lips. “Or will you make another mediocre song about it?”

“Don’t call them mediocre,” he squints at you, eyes tracing your face when your hands slip further down his face to cradle his jaw, thumbs padding his lips.

“I easily outdid you on your own song, Kim Sunwoo.”

“That’s why I add you in, actually.”

“Really?” you snicker, tone full of fake disbelief. His hands hold your sides when you lean over the man and latch yourself to his neck, dragging out kisses up and down his warm skin. “Will you make a song for each of our arguments, then?”

Teeth scraping the skin of his throat, you find the male humming under you in pleasure and satisfaction. He has you right where he wanted you– and although this is not how you imagined the night to go, you don’t find yourself disappointed with the turn of events. The previous annoyance is still there, but now is shielded by the need in you, the longing for him you can’t really battle whenever he is around.

Settling deeper against his body, you feel the male slip one hand into your hair, tugging at the roots of your hair gently to bring your face back to his, averting your attention away from the love bites you’ve been placing on his skin.

“Unless you give me another topic to write about,” he suggests, his hungry lips swallowing your reply.

You and Sunwoo were never really good for each other. Too messy, too turbulent, but too consumed with the other to ever truly let go. Seeing him tonight surely wasn’t the best of your ideas– but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t silently hope the evening would turn out this way.

You and Sunwoo were never the ones to make good decisions when it came to the other one anyway. What’s one another badly calculated step in your relationship gonna do?

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hecateslore · 2 months

Text

💌

supervisor!Simon

You get back to the office. Crossing your fingers no one saw you and Simon eating each other's face before you guys walked in. You huff and groan as you sit back down. Getting ready to stare at the screen for three and half more hours.

Were you shitting where you eat? People always say don’t date your coworker or sleep with them or do anything with them because it’s a recipe for disaster. Which is kind of true, You and Johnny are a prime example. Maybe he was a little awkward, maybe you read too much into your guy’s dinner, it was just dinner.

Maybe it wasn’t to you. Did you like Johnny? Do you like Johnny? It’s hard to tell. You always find yourself talking too much around him, not in a good way either. Half of the time you don’t even know if he’s listening. He told you he was hitting on you when you trained him. You guys would talk almost everyday, So what happened?

It was Simon, of course it was Simon. He’s loud sometimes, very straightforward and loves to make people uncomfortable. It was definitely Simon. You can’t help your attraction. And you really can’t help it now when he’s always kissing you and being so touchy.

You’re shitting where you eat. all over it.

Simon sat in his office twiddling his thumbs, just dickin’ off. He thought about your guy’s conversation at lunch. ‘Johnny’s such a kiss ass’ was his initial thought, then he actually thought about it, does Johnny know about the gala?

Do you still talk to Johnny that way? Simon sits up in his chair. The thought sat uneasy with him. You weren’t his girlfriend, he wasn’t your boyfriend. Of course he’s attracted to you and maybe he has thought about you a couple times before bed and So what? He was the one who kissed you, you kissed him back. Kisses sometimes mean a great deal– to simon. You said you weren’t going, but you can always change your mind.

So he walks out of his office to your desk. There you were lost in thought. He taps your desk to get your attention, “Hello?” you ask, “You’re not busy this weekend?” he asks. You shake your head no, “We talked about this already.” you intone, Simon rolls his eyes, but then starts scanning the room for Johnny. “Why don’t we hang out?” he suggests, “I see what you’re doing.” you chuckle. “I’m not doing anything, I just want to see you this weekend, or this week– doesn’t matter.” he shrugs. “Simon,” you warn quietly. Simon didn’t like that, he knows you’re catching on. “You didn’t tell him no.” He mentions, “I didn’t say yes either.” you mention. “Just drop it.” you finish.

Simon walks back into his office, he could see Johnny getting up to talk to you. He wished he could make out what you two were saying, probably making plans. Simon rolls his eyes and sits back on his desk.

Tuesday, Simon sits at Victor's desk. Johnny was being very chatty. Especially with you. It was probably a part of his whole scheme to “get you back”. Simon could feel his eye twitch. He lets out a big sigh and goes back to watching victor continuously screw up. “You messed up the date,” he notes. He only rolls his eyes again, and stares at the back of your head.

Johnny goes back to his seat and Simon gets up dragging the plastic chair behind him. Sitting right behind johny, “weekly monitoring”.

“You’re watching me now?” Johnny chuckles, “just need a reason to get rid of you.” Simon responds. “I bet you do.” He ribs. “You’re funny.” Simon crosses his arms.”I get that a lot these days.” Simon watches Johnny fill out spreadsheets, exactly how you do, It makes him want to vomit. “People are telling you this?” he jabs, Johnny only chuckles at Simon. “a specific person, maybe.” He looks at Simon. “And who’s that?” Simon cocks a brow. Johnny only sits up in his seat. “A good friend.” His blue eyes drift to where you're sitting. Simon sits back in the chair,A scowl on his face as he watches the monitor over Johnny’s shoulder.

If Johnny wanted to be funny Simon could be hilarious. Simon could be comedian of the year.

SImon leaves the chair at Johnny’s desk and walks over to you, he hovers over you and you look up at him and smile, “hi.” you say with a small grin. Simon places his hand in the middle of your back and starts to rub circles. Simon is a genius. He might lose his job, but he’s a genius. “You okay?” he asks with the softest tone he could muster up. Obviously seething with annoyance and agitation from Johnny. “Someone is gonna see.” you warn quietly. Simon looks over his shoulder at Johnny, his brown eyes dead set on set on him.

“I’ll fire them.” Simon looks back at you, who’s already looking at him. Your eyes big with worry, Simon sighs at you and takes his hand off. He was still hovering, and super sure Johnny was staring. You're quiet for a minute, Simon thinks he pissed you off.

“Meet me by the bathroom in like 5.” you say and move him out of the way with your chair, bumping into his legs.

And that's exactly what he did. In 5 minutes he was standing by the water fountain checking his watch. You come out of the bathroom with a paper towel in your hands, drying it, “I had to use the bathroom.” you nod. Simon liked when you did that, overshared whenever you wanted.

You go in for a hug wrapping your arms around his torso, taking in his clean smell and cologne. You let out a big breath and Simon chuckles at you. “You smelling me?” he asks. “I’m having a day.” You mumble, Taking another long sniff. He kisses the top of your head and then rests on top of yours, “I thought we were gonna do something risky.” he admits. You sigh, “This is good too.” he assures you.

“This better be good.” you swat his back playfully. “Ouch.” he teases. “Let me see you.” he cups your cheeks, “What’s the matter?” He asks softly. You can feel your frown and the heat around your eyes from the tears that threaten to come up. “I’m just having a weird day.” you wipe your eyes before the tears fall. He hums and kisses your left cheek, “I hate those.” he kisses the other.

You let go first, “I should get back to work.” You sniff. Simon watches you adjust your sweater and wipe your face. “Thanks for the hug.” you smile meekly. Going in for another one, a side hug this time, reaching up a bit to kiss Simon's cheek. He smiles at your action, “Just tell me whenever.” he shrugs. You chuckle softly and walk back to your desk.

Simon stands in the middle of the hall for a bit. All alone.

Wednesday you didn’t come in, you said you needed a break and that your head was hurting all morning, which was half true. You needed a break, from Johnny’s constant pestering, “did you make your mind up yet?” “Are you free to go?”. It’s exactly like how he was when you two first started talking. Always around, always asking questions, being overly flirty and then stopping random, very hot and cold. Whatever Simon and you had going on didn’t help either. Especially tuesday by the bathrooms. He was so warm, so calm.

You lounged around all day, laying on your couch, then back to your bed, to the shower and then back to bed. Grabbing snacks here and then. You wished you were laying with Simon again. His big body pressed against yours, his big hand resting carelessly on your thigh. You missed him, and it only was one day.

You shift around in bed trying to get comfortable, you grab your phone to check the time. It was an hour after everyone got off. You think about calling Simon, just to hear his voice, listen to him complain about people he should fire. You go to your contacts, your thumb hovers over his name. You click on it and put your phone to your ear, squeezing your eyes tight just in case he doesn’t answer. The phone rings twice, “Hello,” he says.

He sounds tired, annoyed, bothered. Or you were reading too much into it. “Hi.” you say, You can hear him shuffling around on his end, probably looking around for something. “How was today?” you ask. “It was okay,” he sighs, “How’re you?”

“I’m alright, just hanging around.” You look around your room, and start to feel around your bed, wondering if Simon could fit on your mattress, he probably has an Alaskan king. “The office was quiet today,” You smile at his comment, “Quiet huh?” you grin. “You coming tomorrow?” he asks. “I guess.” you sigh, “What’s that for?” he says. “I want to sleep in again.” you chuckle.

You wonder what Simon wore on wednesday, what he said first thing in the morning, which shoe he put on first. It was getting to be so much, “He’s only a man” you try to convince yourself. A man that takes up your mind 24/7. Sometimes you want to step out of your skin, shake it and step right back in. You swear you’re going mad the way you look for him in everything. You miss him when you’re not at work, you miss him at lunch or when he’s in his office during a meeting. You want to be near him as much as you can.

You never say anything, you two just sneak away and kiss. You pretend it’s not getting to you, endless days of him holding you and smothering you with affection in private. You act as though it’s natural, and that you crave nothing more. And boy are you feeling it.

When Friday comes Simon stood at the back of the office, watching Johnny sit on his phone. You sat at your desk waiting for time to pass until lunch. You wanted to go home, Simon and Johnny were being weird, constantly making Jabs at each other in passing. Saying snarky comments everytime you would try to talk to either of them, and it was giving you a headache.

Johnny stops by your desk and asks if you want to grab lunch and that was a quick and polite no. You wanted to say hell no, but that’s unprofessional. Simon asked what you were doing for lunch and you said nothing, which was true. You sat with your headphones trying to block everyone from your mind. You had your head down and from afar it looked concerning. Linda tapped your shoulder and you almost snapped on her, but held it together, some people were sending concerned looks.

But no one was more concerned than Simon, he was staring, trying not to bother you, but he could see something was wrong. He’s seen this picture before.

Over the weekend you ignored Johnny’s text messages and Simon’s calls that stopped after saturday. You layed in bed and slept all day. You wanted to go back home and be with your mom and dad. You hear a knock at your door, and maybe it's one of your neighbors asking you to move your car. When you go to unlock it, you check the peep hole and see Simon, with a potted plant and a plastic convenience store bag.

You sigh and open your door. “Hi.” his voice hoarse. “hi.” you say, He looks over you and frowns, “I wanted to check on you.” You nod, “Thanks.” you say inviting him in. “It’s spotless in here. '' he looks around. You snort, “that’s what happens.” you say grabbing the bag he handed to you.

“You okay?” He looks at you again. “I’m alright.” you say avoiding conversation. You guys sit in silence for some time. Simon notices your puffy eyes, and how disheveled you look as if you’d been sleeping all day. “You want to go lay down?” he asks, You can feel the tears well in your eyes, “Sure.” you say, voice wobbling a bit.

Simon takes his hood off, only in his compression shirt (slut!) and sweats, You get under your covers quickly and try to bury yourself in your pillows. “I was gonna go to the gym,” he lifts up the blanket and slides in, “But I was worried about you.” He finally gets comfortable and pulls you close. You lay in his side, his big arms around holding you.

“You don’t have to worry.” You look up at him, “I know, but I do.” his thumb rubs the skin of your arms, “Sometimes it’s nice to have people to worry about.” He sighs.

“I missed you.” you say quietly, “I missed you too.”

He squeezes you, and your hand comes up to his abdomen and you rub it softly. You both lay on your bed, trying to match each other's breathing.

“Simon, I want this to go somewhere,” you admit.

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softtdaisy · 11 months

Text

DESCRIPTION I All your relationship with Charles was based on dares. How far can it go before it becomes too much?

PAIRING I Charles Leclerc × fem!reader

WORDS COUNT I 3,7k

A/N I I never thought I would go this far with this story but I'm so happy with the way it turned out. I really hope you will like it as much as I loved writing it 💜

Ever since the day you met, you and Charles had been playing the same silly game. In French, they called cap ou pas cap. The idea was to dare the other person to do something.

It all started during your parents’ wedding.

Being six years old at a wedding was the funniest thing to do. You were watching adults having fun, drinking and dancing together. You were sitting at a table, imagining your own life as an adult. How you would be singing out loud, dancing like tomorrow didn’t exist and finding a cute boy to love if you didn’t have someone already. You imagined all the cool clothes you would be wearing, clearly better than those they were wearing now.

You were so focused on the life you were dreaming for yourself that you didn’t see the cute boy walking to you. “You’re bored too?” he asked shyly.

There weren’t that many children in the room that night. Not many of your parents’ friends brought them. But some couples couldn’t accept to let their children home. Just like the Leclerc.

You knew Lorenzo because your dad had been tutoring him a few weeks ago.

You knew Arthur because his mom came to your place to introduce him to yours.

But you never met Charles. You knew you were the same age, your mothers kept saying you should hang out together one day. You knew he was doing karting which is why you never saw him before. You knew he looked adorable because you’ve seen pictures of him.

You knew that your parents quite hoped you too would fall in love. But you were also big enough to know it was a little too early to think about that.

“Yes, I’m quite done with dancing with adults that try to say something funny. They’re not funny.” You rolled your eyes and made Charles laugh. He sat next to you, taking your answer as a right to stay with you. And it wasn’t like you would ask him to walk away.

“They keep telling me I must be breaking every girls’ heart and I don’t have the courage to tell them I don’t even have a girlfriend.” He sighed and took your drink.

You were acting like little adults in your own world. Drinking like life was too difficult to deal with, when all you had to care about was homework and karting for him. You chatted about some people you knew, mostly your parents’ mutual friends and some of their children like two gossips. And when the photographer asked if he could take a picture of you, you posed like two old friends.

It wasn’t until it was almost midnight that Charles offered to play a game of dares. Taking a picture with Arthur’s comforter. Both sharing a dance with someone the other had picked. Stealing someone’s piece of cake.

It started nicely. You had no idea that this would be the start and the thing that ruled your whole friendship.

You and Charles started to hang out more, or as much as you could since you had to ask your families every time. You had a weekly snack on Wednesday, and you convinced your parents to bring you to as many of Charles’ races.

As the years went on, it became easier to be best friends. You were calling each other all the time, sending stupid texts and would take the bus to each other’s places without your parents being there.

But never did the dares stop. They evolved with you.

As little children, you were still daring each other stupid and innocent things. Telling your parents, a whole crazy story that had actually happened in a movie. Asking Charles to steal his brother’s clothes and wear them for as long as Lorenzo doesn’t notice. Stealing a glass of wine…well this one wasn’t too innocent, and you both developed a hate for wine.

From children you became teenagers. And the dares became more adult. Or you tried to make yourself look more adult. You never dared each other to do dangerous things or anything. Just…stupidest. Like kissing someone you barely admitted having a crush on, missing a karting appointment to go to the beach (to your defense, it was your birthday) or participating in the school theater play. You were still a little mad that this started as a little dare, and you ended up with the main role.

But worse than that, you became teenagers that were slowly developing feelings. And none of you hesitated to dare the other some things that would make them jealous. You did kiss Max Verstappen after a racing kart when, stupidly, Charles dared you to kiss the winner. He thought he would win. He thought he would finally be able to kiss you, even if it was through a game. Thinking it would be less weird for the two of you.

He didn’t expect you to maintain the dare and kiss his worst opponent.

“I can’t believe you kissed him.”

You were in his family car, driving home from the race. His dad was outside, ordering food so you could spend the rest of the evening together at home. Charles was at the front. You could see him with his arms crossed and his angry face through the rearview mirror. “Then you shouldn’t have dared me to kiss the winner.” It wasn’t that you didn’t understand why he was mad. It was obvious. But still, it was his dare. Not yours.

“I was supposed to win!” he yelled, turning around to face you.

“And how is that my problem Charles? I didn’t ruin your race.”

His dad came back right after your reply. So, you didn’t get to hear his own answer to this. But you had time to think about it. The problem wasn’t that you kissed Max, even if you were pretty sure that he wouldn’t be that mad if it was anybody else. It was that you didn’t kiss him.

You spend the whole trip silently thinking about that.

“Charles wait!” you screamed when you were finally at this place and leaving the car. At first, he kept walking like he didn’t hear you. It was Charles: ignoring the problem rather than facing it. Even if the problem was one of his favorite people in the world.

Since he didn’t want to listen to you, you took the fan you brought to the race and threw it at him. “Eh!” he yelled, finally turning around to face you.

“Good, now you’re listening.” You walked to him with a big smile. You noticed how close he was to just walk away again and avoid the confrontation. But you didn’t give him the time. You grabbed his wrist to make sure he won’t leave. “I dare you…”

“Oh god, can we please st…”

“To kiss me. Charles.”

He didn’t expect that. And you could tell from the way his eyes grew big and his mouth opened without a single word coming out. “That’s where the problem lies, right? You thought I would kiss you there. Then I dare you to kiss me now.”

And he did. Because you had promised to never break a dare. And because he had been dreaming about this moment for so long.

So, Charles broke the small distance between the two of you. He approached his face so close to yours that you could feel the air coming out of his mouth. Your eyes stopped blinking to not miss every single moment of this. How he licked his lips. How his eyes were going down and forth between your eyes and your lips. How he brought his hand to your face.

You closed your eyes only when his lips finally touched yours.

It was a simple kiss. One shared but two teenagers who still had a hard time dealing with their feelings. That couldn’t find the line between game and reality.

It would be lying to tell you both didn’t abuse the kissing dare. It was almost like you couldn’t do it otherwise. It would be wrong.

You did it when you were both jealous of someone else. Especially because when you were both 18, you were playing with fire and flirting with more people than you should. You wanted to see which one would break first. Which would stop the game and say it’s over.

As much as you believed in yourself, you were convinced you would be the one giving in. Charles’ kisses were phenomenal. But they weren’t healing your broken heart. The one that kept breaking each time you were seeing him with someone new.

But Charles was the one who changed the game.

You were lying in his hotel bedroom, after partying during the post-race celebration. You were drunk, you were tired, and you were cuddling like it wasn’t hot outside. But you couldn’t resist Charles’ arms, how no matter where you were it will always bring you home. To a safe place where nothing could happen.

You looked at him, lying shirtless, with his wet and messy hair all around the pillow, his hand caressing your back. He looked like a living dream. Your living dreams. The one you had since you were a child. You brought a finger to his face and started to trace his lips. “Kiss me” he mumbled. You weren’t sure you heard him right. You sat up slightly to look at him right when he turned his head to look at you.

“You didn’t ask properly.” You replied with amusement in your voice.

“I don’t want to ask properly anymore.” He said, bringing his hand from your back to your neck.

Before you knew, your face was just above his. One movement and you kissed. One movement and you admit that it was more than a game for you.

One movement that you did.

That night, you didn’t need to dare him to make love to you either. For once, the game was put apart and forgotten.

And during the first weeks of your new and official relationship, you completely forgot about dare. You were living your love naturally. Without the constant thought of asking each other to do crazy things. Then it came back one day. Out of nowhere. For a stupid dare that didn’t even mean something. Just Charles daring you to go skinny dipping in your pool since you were alone.

But hearing him dare you was like listening to a song you haven’t heard in years. Eating a meal you haven’t been eating in months. Seeing a movie you haven’t seen since childhood.

It felt wrong. It felt weird. Somehow a little relieving too. Like nothing had changed.

And so it’s started again. Childish dares like you used to do. More sensual ones now that you were a couple. Stupider ones because you wanted to play with the limits. And sadder ones when you were arguing.

When it was good, the dares were fun.

When it was bad, the dares were terrible.

“Stop blaming me for your bad performances Charles!”

The Monaco GP was over for hours now. And Charles didn’t win either of the two F2 races. Worse, he couldn’t even finish them. You could understand that he was mad, that he was angry at the team for losing his home race. Here. In front of everyone.

That didn’t mean he had to let it all go on you.

“Then what am I supposed to do, hm?” You hated when he talked like that. Like a pretentious brat who couldn't understand that not everybody agrees with him. Like you were too stupid to understand that he could be angry.

“I don’t know, control your anger? Or at least, not fuming against me.”

“You don’t have to come if you can’t accept my bad moments. Don’t inflict that on me that.”

He wasn’t even looking at you. Drinking a stupid beer on his friend’s balcony, because he didn’t even want to come home and face his parents. Watching the party happening outside like a poor boy that wasn’t invited. It was wrong. He was invited. He didn’t want to celebrate somebody else, selfishly.

“You’re being mean, Charles.” You sighed, walking to him, hoping you could finally calm him down.

But then he hit. Harder. “You know what?” he asked, not even turning to you like you were important enough. “I dare you to not come to the next race. So, you won’t suffer from my terrible nature.”

He knew you wouldn’t say no. None of you ever said no to a dare. So, you waited a few seconds, expecting him to break it. But that never happened before either. When a dare was said, you had to respect it.

So many things happened in a month. So many things that made Charles regret even daring you this. He should have kept it to himself. Let the anger disappear before saying something so stupid.

He needed you in Baku. He needed you by his side after going through the worst event of his life.

But he dared you not to come.

And you respected it.

You watched your boyfriend doing a perfect race weekend from home. Winning the race for someone that wasn’t there. You should have been there. Hugging him. Kissing him. Telling him how proud you were instead of texting.

It made you realize how bad this situation was. How childish it was.

“This can’t go on.” You told him when he came back.

“What do you mean?” Charles asked without even needing an explanation. He knew.

It was obvious to the both of you that something had changed. That none of you had the heart to play those silly games anymore. But more than that. You both weren’t so sure you knew how to live with each other without them. Your whole relationship had been ruled by dares. Making decisions through them.

“Is this really the life you want for us? Not being able to talk to each other or ask anything without having to put dares between us?”

Selfilishy, you hoped Charles would reassure you. Take the bigger role and make sure you still believe in your relationship.

The truth was he was just as confused and scared as you were. Worse, he felt guilty and knew it was wrong. But he wasn’t sure he was mature enough to stop that.

“I don’t know.” He sighed and you looked at him silently, waiting for more. “I don’t know what I want, I don’t know what we can do. I know nothing ok? Life has been a mess and I know nothing anymore!” You could see in his eyes all the anger and frustration he was keeping for himself.

“I’ve spent most of my life with you. Look what we became.” There was something more in what Charles just said. More than just a fact you already knew.

He spent most of his life playing with you. But now, at 20, was it really the life he wanted? Was it how a sane relationship was supposed to be like? And if you don’t stop it now, how could you know how far you’ll go?

“Charles, I dare you…” you started with a broken voice.

“Wait, no, we can…” he tried to stop you. Because he perfectly knew where this was going. He knew the game. He knew the outcome.

“To stop seeing each other for five years.”

There it was. The ultimate dare. The one you both needed but refused to see. The one you had no other choice to say to finally find a way of getting better. Feeling better.

Being better lovers.

Charles didn’t even try to negotiate or change your mind. Because if you didn’t say it, he would have. For once, he was happy to not be the one taking the rough decision. “Can I get a last kiss?” He asked. No dare. No obligation. Just a request from a broken heart to another one.

And you were glad you accepted it. You kept the feeling of his lips on yours for weeks after that day. It made things a little easier.

At least it did until you started to forget how he tasted. Or how it felt to be in his arms. Or the smell of his perfume. Or how good you used to feel after he made love to you like you were the most important person in the entire world.

Five years was a lot. But you both understood after a while that you clearly need it to grow up and be a better person.

Not seeing him didn’t mean you couldn’t follow his career. You even cheated one day, during the first year, for the Monaco GP. You hide in the crowd to watch him race. A part of you thought that he didn’t win because the universe was waiting for the day you would be together again.

You watched Charles dating other people too. People that weren’t you. People that could touch him and love him like you were supposed to. Like you used to.

That was what made you start a relationship on your own. At first you secretly claimed it was to learn how to be a better girlfriend for Charles. But as the years went on and you noticed he was still with the same girl, you convinced yourself you had the right to be happy with someone else too.

Five years went faster than you thought. When the new year started, your only thought was that you were getting him back. But you couldn’t be sure you would. Maybe Charles loved his new life like it was. Maybe he didn’t even remember the dare or the date you could finally reconcile.

Maybe he didn’t love you anymore.

When Charles received the invitation, he knew it wasn’t a coincidence. As much as it broke his heart to see your name linked with your fiancé, he knew.

Your wedding was happening right on the date the last dare was supposed to end. You were getting married on the day Charles could finally see you again.

Charles didn’t forget about you either. You were always on his mind. When he started a race, he wanted to make sure you would hear about him winning. When he posted pictures with one of his girlfriends, he wanted to make you jealous. When he was alone, he was dreaming about you being by his side. For good.

None of his relationships lasted because he could never love them like he loved you. It wasn’t a surprise that he accepted to come to your wedding alone. Not like he would have brought anyone else, anyway.

“You look…stunning.”

Charles found his way to your dressing room. He waited a little to make sure you were by yourself. He didn’t have the heart to face anybody. Worse, face your fiancé.

But you were alone. Sitting in front of the mirror. Knowing deep well that today would change your life. Either for better or for worse.

When you turned around and saw Charles standing there, you knew the answer.

“You came.” you got up immediately, taking a step toward before stopping. You needed a minute to appreciate it. He was here. The same young adult you left five years ago today was in front of you. Looking more beautiful than ever. Looking more adult, more confident. Exactly like you always imagined Charles to look like in the future.

“You invited me.” He replied. Doing exactly the same thing. Appreciating the view of the woman he loved. Except he had to deal with something more. The sight of you in a wedding dress. Something he always dreamt to see. But for him. Not for any guy. “I would have traveled to the other side of the world to see you today.”

Facing each other, you realized why you decided to get married today. It would be the ultimate proof that your love was big enough to fight for.

“Do you love him?” His arms were crossed against his chest, like he was waiting impatiently for an answer. He looked like a professional negotiator here.

“Charles…”

“I said, do you love him?” The way he looked at you directly in the eyes was like the confirmation you needed. You both grew up. None of you need those stupids games anymore to be honest and say what you need to say or do what you need to do. Charles didn’t have to force you to speak the truth by daring you to do it. You were both honest and adults now.

Adults are still in love with each other.

“I don’t.” You started walking towards him like he was the light at the end of the tunnel. The one you’ve been chasing all these years and that you were finally seeing. You knew you could do no wrong by walking to him. “I love you, Charles.”

One second. It took him one second to grab your face between his hands and give you the passionate kiss you both needed. Again, you could feel the determination on the way he was holding you tight, making sure you wouldn’t leave again. Or the way he was kissing you so deeply almost like he needed to discover you again. Entirely. One of his hands got lost on your perfect styled hair.

Charles was here to destroy the engagement you made. So you could make a new one with him.

“Can I make one last dare?” He was breathless against your mouth. It reminded you of the countless times you let your excitement take the upper hand and have sex in the first intimate place you could find. You didn’t even have the strength to reply, too busy thinking about how bad you wanted his lips on yours again. So you simply nodded at his request.

You saw a smile growing on his face. “I dare you to run away with me.”

Eight words. Eight words that you never even wished to hear.

“You can never say no to a dare.” He told you the night you met.

You didn’t plan on saying no today. At least, not to him.

So you took Charles' hand. Or actually offered him yours.

Making a pact. Accepting a dare for the last time.

“I won’t let you go ever again.” He told you once you were sitting in his Ferrari, ready to ride together and forget about the mess your love created.

“Dare?”

“Dare.”

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