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shatteredfears-arch · 2 years

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aLSO all DC muses being added/are already here, which i’m posting bc i don’t have bios posted for all of them so this is a quick rundown. as generally known, the main plotline of this blog is one big universe, but ofc, there are basis for these characters personality traits. And the main verse that is this blog’s verse has a mix of S/nyder and R/eeves, we don’t accept hate to either here. Also technically J/oker 2019. minor comic and other influences but i take what fits into the main world as my wild colorful brain views it (and yes, as an autistic, I view things differently than the non auts who call me names or choose to insult me-- too bad so sad for u tho i’m friends w the block button)

(obvious content warnings considering the fandom, a lot of these ppl are murderers, one of them considers consent 'optional' canonically, even in her 'good person' phase. some of these people are serial killers. gordon's chill but he's also a cop so that defaultly makes him not great when, like me, you're not white. he's not white either tho, and is trying to fix the issue from the inside, but it's still not a great career. if anyone knows anything abt pamela's backstory, i'm not mentioning it here, but that girl's been through it okay.)

B/rucey Wayne, obvs E/d Nashton, unfortunately, tho he’s technically an NPC/by request H/arvey D/ent, with a different take primarily based on T/elltale, where yknow, he becomes evil whether he’s mutilated or not. stop being gross DC if T/elltale a company owned by gross ppl can do it so can you. H/arley Q/uinn, who’s been here, she’s not an original take she’s based off her og solo run but ppl think ‘oh she’s mean’ means original take when thats LITERALLY WHO SHE WAS BEFORE THEY WATERED HER DOWN TO HEROFY HER I dont accept that arc here. but i'm also not including all the canonical times she's forced consent on others, aka pushing J/oker into sex, breaking into floyd's house and laying naked in his bed and bullying him until he agrees to have sex, pushing ivy into physical contact until ivy agrees no matter how many times they say no. yeah. none of that happens here. but i do recognize it happens in canon, even if the fandom refuses to. al/exis k/aye, aka p/unchline, also a mostly original storyline not entirely following the comics, but idk i think she’s neat du/ella d/ent, aka h/arvey’s bio daughter who he was so disappointed wasn’t twins he chose to ignore entirely, bc even tho i love harv/ey he is a terrible dad. case in point, his daughter’s obsession w villains and calling herself their daughters (she’s been j/okers daughter, ri/ddler’s daughter, etc, her coping mechanism is a piece of work). pre her taking that route tho, but she is presently obsessed with E/dward post TB2022. floyd la/wton, aka d/eadshot, based on older comics, with hints of ss2016 but not a lot, deffo inspo from jltas and games tho. i will never write fl/oyd x h/arley please never ask me, she literally wouldn’t leave him alone and broke into his house and sat naked in his bed until he’d have sex w her in canon. we’re not doing that here. keep that away from me. s/ofia f/alcone, carmine’s legitimate daughter and therefore selina’s half sister. inheritor of carmine’s entire criminal bs, but because she wasn’t a player at the time, now has to become a player in the war for head of gotham crime. jane mo/riarty, technically started as an original interpretation of a moriarty sibling from s/herlock h/olmes, but i plotted and developed a DC plot relating to her in the TB2022 universe, so she’s here now. university professor by day, weaving the web of gotham’s underground criminal schemes by night. J/ames G/ordon, currently a detective in go/tham, not yet commissioner, trusts batsy entirely but doesn’t let the team know about his affiliation with him. uncle to and eventually adopted father of his niece, b/arbara g/ordon, when his brother and sister in law die in a car crash.

P/amela I/sley, who is mostly based between older comics (including her runs in the SS) and A/rkhamverse, NOT watering her down the way the comics and shows did to just turn her into ‘har/ley’s girlfriend’ nor will i pretend the canonical interpretation of their ship is somehow healthy when they’ve beaten the shit out of and mentally abused each other to no end. in general if you want a healthy ship, don’t look towards h/arley, and i/vy deserves better, but all in all I am not watering them down for the sake of romance. they’re villains. we can write them as healthily as we can plot if you want, but pamela deserves better than what the comics and that show have done for her. and the fandom as a whole tbh, which is why i love the interpretations i follow over canon 99% of the time. and if you wanna plot/write w any of them lmk and hit me up w a plot if u have one, or if you wanna try and get to a comic point or game point or anything, it can be discussed, but i will not jump into ships w pamela, alexis, or ivy. everyone else is a case by case basis.

anyways here's the new carrd. almost none of the characters mentioned have bios btw that's why i'm posting this here lol.

#bc everytime i post smthn w pam i get fake accts messaging me abt wanting to write canon scenes that are majorly abusive and getting mad at #everytime i say no lol #'it's a different canon to--' funny how that's only ever said #to excuse hypocrisy #don't think i don't notice i'm autistic i notice almost everything #the slightest hint that you're being weird to me i fucking notice #removing me from your list bc you found sb else who you like writing w more???? yeah i noticed that too lol #i just didn't say anything but i notICED #thx #anyways #abuse cw #sa cw #out.#i love hq don't get me wrong #90% of the fandom including those that recognize that all her ships are abusive not just jhq but h/ivy is too lol #even the ppl that DO recognize that #claim her forcing consent is okay bc 'it's played off as a joke!!!' and no #forcing consent isn't a joke #showing up in a man's bed completely naked when he's already told you no MULTIPLE times isn't okay either #and i'm tired of ppl pretending she's only a victim like she's been a victim yes #but she victimizes others s o much she's a horrible person #and the worst kind of manipulator #she's bubbly and lovably too don't get me wrong she isn't aware she's doing it #but that doesn't make it okay #alexis is so cool tho this bitch LITERALLY manipualted the entire world via social media #to get clear cut off of being held legally responsible for anything #and make the batfam look bad #she's an evil genius it's just a shame that #her current personality is so similar to harley's original personality #ran out of tags BUT if anyone wants me to do this for each fandom things are coming in/out of lmk bc i may

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queerkuro · 11 months

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thinking about kuroo with twists...

#he is so black in my mind and i think about his styles so much #don't get me wrong i'm still thinking about skk #just a side note about kuroo :3 #someone should draw this for me #omg picture!!! kuroo in kenma's room sitting in front of a mirror #kenma is gaming while kuroo is doing his hair #hehehe #i love kuroo :)))#hq #kuroo #wtf jordan

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wyvernest · 8 months

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mating szn

part 1 (part2)

pairing: miguel o'hara x f!gf!reader

warnings: smut, fluff, scent marking, primal play, rutting miguel, possessiveness, reader is ovulating

summary: miguel comes home feeling extremely needy

You're preparing dinner when you hear the opaque glass doors of your shared mansion open for your lover to come in. It's almost midnight, and it doesn't take you longer than a few seconds to realize how tired he has to be.

Miguel walks into the open kitchen, frowning.

"Baby! I missed you!" You jolt to him, pans clattering dangerously as you throw them aside, careful enough not to ruin your work but swiftly enough to get to him as fast as possible.

You curl your arms around his neck, standing on your tiptoes, pressing your chest flush against his hard pecs. His hands grab at your hips, absentmindedly and by habit.

"What's wrong?". You place a gentle, loving hand on his cheek, trying to meet his gaze. But he's not looking at you. His eyes are darting all over your face and body, brows still creased.

He could feel it, your scent. A collection of the whole day, everything you've done. The food, the places you've been. He feels like it's been so long since this morning, when he woke up beside you, kissing along your neck.

He feels a surge of blood rush from his heart and through his lucidity, a shot of adrenaline inexplicably taking over him.

You don't smell of him anymore. Anger bubbles in his chest as he thinks of all the people you must've talked to around HQ, who didn't smell his strong musk on you, who had no idea you belonged to him.

He's never felt like this before. He brushes the unfamiliar feeling aside for a moment, grounded by the silent plea in your eyes.

"I'm good. Just a bit tired." He brushes wild strands of baby hairs out of your face, finally matching the loving look you've greeted him with from the start.

He leaves you to finish the meal and steps into the shower, hoping that an ice cold stream would cool him down. Only it doesn't do anything but worsen the situation.

The second he feels the water spray hit his body, he flinches, unlike the usual relief he gets. His skin is abnormally feverish, the ghost of your body in his arms taunting him further into madness. He soon finds himself desperate to get out, to be reunited with you and the warmth only you could ever provide for him.

Images of your supple body breaking in his embrace flood his already lust crazed mind against his better judgment, and he feels his cock fatten slightly at the memory.

When he takes it in his hand, he nearly starts bucking his hips into his hold, sensitive and insanely needy. He imagines you in the bathtub with him, arching your back over the edge, spreading your legs for him to pound his cock into you under the hot stream, your moans echoing and ringing into the stone tiles.

He can't take it anymore. His body aches for your touch and attention.

Exiting the shower, he pulls a pair of loose boxers up his thighs, the only thing he can tolerate with the fever that has taken hold of him so suddenly.

And then, he focuses on the image of you, standing where he left you, gently stirring in a bowl. You're wearing one of his t-shirts, draped down to the middle of your thighs and over your elbows, an oversized dress.

He approaches you, wrapping his arms around your front and waist, dropping a fraction of his weight on your back just to keep you from moving or fighting against it. You throw your head back, closing your eyes.

His head drops to your neck, kissing here and there, exhales smoldering hot on your throat, stopping momentarily to deeply inhale your scent. Among all others, there is a distinctive smell of you, of your arousal and need for him that drives him mad.

"Wait- Miguel, let me finish this-" You protest, your creamy tone betraying your true intentions.

He groans, kissing your naked shoulder, his hands squeezing your form in front of him.

All tasks are ultimately abandoned as he pushes you against the counter, his defined abs hitting your back, the marble surface cold against your thighs. He presses his fat, hard cock up against your plush ass, his hands fondling your breasts through his shirt, groaning low and quiet in your ear.

With his biceps curled and constricted around your navel, your body goes limp in his hold, trembling ever so slightly as his warm, broad palms squeeze the soft flesh of your tits. He pushes them together, massaging gently, almost experimentally. He flattens them with the heels of his palms softly, only to them constrict his fingers around them so perfectly, fondling and groping away.

"Mm- Miguel, oh-" You breathe out, finding balance on your hands, arching your back into him. You feel your core pulsate with need, swelling up under his movements. You're almost completely wrapped up in his massive body, with nowhere to go.

And just then, you accidentally knock a knife off the counter, startled when it hits the marble floor with a loud clank. He jumps, backing up from your body. Your face is flushed, eyes half lidded, breath heavy, nipples perked under the thin cotton. Landing back to your senses, you move to bend down and pick it up.

His eyes automatically snap to your round ass and the dark wet spot on your panties that invites him so blatantly to shove his cock in between your pussy lips.

He can't help it. He can't control himself anymore.

Balance leaves your position as you feel his rough, eager hands grip your hips, harshly pulling you back into him. The plumpness of your ass hits the girthy shaft of his cock, but before you can look for the lost balance with your hands in front of you, he thrusts his erection up against your clothed cunt, making you whine in need.

"Ay, mi amor-" His voice is rugged and satisfied, laced with a deep groan. A broad palm hits the side of your behind, making the tender flesh ripple against his hard-on. "Te necesito muchísimo ahora." (I need you so badly right now.)

You yelp, perplexed, instinctively grabbing his wrists for balance. He pulls you up with your back against his chest, splaying a cursory hand across your abdomen, sending shivers thundering down your spine and butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

"Miguel!" You playfully fight against his possessive hold, "Is this your way of helping me prepare dinner?!" You free yourself, giggling and letting a wide smile take over your features. Stepping back and extending your arms in front of you in an attempt to shield yourself from him, you chuckle wholeheartedly.

Seeing you resist, he lets out a defeated exhale.

"Fine. I'll be good, lo prometo." (I promise). He motions for you to come closer and trust that he'll behave. Letting your guard down, you approach the counter, eyes fixated on his playfully.

He feels your body heat nearing him, so comfortable and tempting. The smell of you, and everything that drives him crazy about your presence alone. His breaths deepen and quicken abruptly, his cock straining in his boxers, twitching freely against the material, begging to be enveloped in your wet warmth.

He looks down at you like a panther about to pounce, waiting for the perfect moment to do so. Your smile curls wider, eyes shining with lust and a teasing playfulness. His body dwarfs yours, his shadow alone making you feel puny. His shoulders are tense, the same way they are when he's on top of you, riding you into next Tuesday.

He shifts to place a clawed hand on the counter, the sharp edged digits tapping against the surface catching your attention momentarily in the corner of your eye. He exploits the split second it takes you to look down to his arm, snapping and squatting to grab your thighs, throwing you over his shoulder.

"NO! You promised! Miguel! The food!" You try to reason, throwing any and each accusation you can think of, knowing that you definitely don't want him to drop it and leave you alone, truly. And he knows it.

And that's when he feels it. With your ass on his bulky shoulder, he can smell it. Your arousal, dripping hot. His fat cock finally hardens completely, its monstrously girthy shaft poking through the shorts.

You're ovulating.

Groaning ruggedly, he delivers a rough spank to your plump ass before pushing two fingers over the wet mound of your clothed pussy, running them over your slit, teasingly, collecting more of your scent.

He swears the only thing stopping him from fucking you raw right on the kitchen floor is your comfort.

"Okay! You win! Put me down, I'll let you fuck me."

Without a second thought, he places you back on the floor, hands on your hips, talons grazing your tender skin deliciously.

His eyes have reddened, pupils blown wide, exhales hot and labored. You don't want anything more than to wrap your arms around his neck, to press yourself into him, to feel his hard abdomen on your stomach, his pecs on your soft tits, his mouth on your neck.

But you want to see more of how needy he is.

You jolt to the stairs with no warning, climbing the winding wooden steps like a cat. You hear him behind you, his weight put onto each movement as he chases close behind, the staircase creaking under him.

Looking behind before reaching the hallway of the first floor of your mansion, you feel your panties dampen at the sight of the man and the sheer size of him, massive shoulders slightly hunched forward in focus and adrenaline, his height successfully making you stagger on your way to the bedroom.

divider by @cafekitsune

HOPE YALL LIKE IT IMMA CONTINUE ‼️‼️

a/n: primal play is thoroughly discussed beforehand. insisting that your partner has sex with you even after resistance without having discussed the aforementioned resistance is abusive.

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melonn-soda · 6 months

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IM BEGGING... JOUNO X MALE READER...JEALOUSY HEADCANNONS!! nsfw + sfw???

❝ JOUNO X M! READER N/SFW HCs... ❞

Order Up~!

word count: n/a

warning(s): torture & murder, sex, degradation, slut shaming I wanna say, sub bottom male reader, dom top jouno

prompt: self-explanatory

note: I guess I could squeeze this in between writing kinktober. I also don't listen to a lick of Kpop since I hate the industry but Jung kook's song "Seven" is actually crazy what the fuck

fem aligned dni

SFW but kinda not

jouno denies being a jealous person but the way he acts whenever you get too friendly with someone makes him way too obvious

there was a time where you were helping another citizen and he could hear their heartbeat pick up suddenly just from you asking if they were okay

the longer the civilian talked to you, the more he got annoyed with their stuttering heartbeat

he eventually suggested you help out someone else while he threateningly asked if they needed anything else

if things get a little too far, he wouldn't hesitate to torture or even kill a person

someone did end up getting a little touchy with you and he got so pissed he kept that person in the hq's basement (pretend they have one) and starved them to near death

but he still denies being a jealous because he's jouno

if you're friends with tetchou he'll mask his jealousy a bit since he doesn't want you getting upset because he told tetchou off and made him sad

he will listen (and pretend he doesn't care) when you tell him to not worry about other people coming after you

however you never said he still couldn't not chain people up and whip them into promising to not talk to you again

"I am so sorry about him, he just has a little issue in his brain that makes him think this is okay." you apologized, bowing with your hand on your chest. jouno stood there his his arms crossed over his chest and leaning on his left leg, scoffing in disapproval.

"little!?" the citizen exclaimed angrily, "I think your coworker has more a little issue! he's fucking insane! insane, I tell you!!"

they ran away with fear in their eyes, you looking back up with a worried look before it turned into a glare directed at your boyfriend. you just wished jouno could tone it down far more than this.

"what the hell is wrong with you, jouno?" you snarled at the white-haired man, whose head turned in your direction.

his hand was briefly on your waist before he tugged you to press against his body, "what? I just showed them the consequence of stealing what's mine."

"you nearly broke their fucking arm!" you retorted back, "if I hadn't stepped in before anything more happened, you would've ended up killing them!" by grabbing a fistful of his uniform, you yanked his head to your level.

"mm, yeah, but you love that sadistic part of me," he quickly pecked your lips and left knowing that you weren't going to deny it anyway.

NSFW

would punish you harshly depending on the person

more aggressive if that person is tetchou

one time, during a mission, the venue a married couple rented out was playing music for the dance floor and tetchou really wanted to dance

jouno didn't want to dance because it was embarrassing but you decided to dance with tetchou to lower any suspicions people may have laid on you three

so, you and tetchou danced together, laughing and a couple of times tetchou swung and spun you around

some people remarked how cute you both were together and to say jouno was infuriated is an understatement

when the two of you got off the dance floor, jouno pulled you out of the area and into a nearby alley to fuck the brains out of you without any explanation

because jouno is canonically sadistic, he would pull some bdsm stuff on you like: bondage, sensory depravation, spanking, handcuffing (always has a pair of cuffs on him), edgeplay, biting, breath play, collaring, hair pulling, humiliation, most of the terms under impact play

does most of this stuff behind the closed doors of your shared home but if he's feeling especially brutal he might just do it in public if you're fine with it

LOTS of petnames ranging from "love" to "slut" but he loves calling you "doll"

even so, jouno can be pretty mean when it comes to punishments

a loud whimper ripped through your throat as jouno's gloved hand came down in harsh contact against your thigh, damn near your dick. although, the sound came slightly muffled because of the ball gag in your mouth, drool spilling from the edge of your mouth.

"you should've thought twice before pulling something like that, doll." jouno scowled, tightening the leather straps on your ankles but loose enough to leave you some wiggle room.

he walked to the side of the bed and grabbed another vibrator from the nightstand, pressing it against the tip of your dick and adjusting the cock ring currently on you. you continued to complain about all the stimulation albeit unintelligible.

jouno had almost all the toys you both owned taped onto so many parts of your body: nipple clamps, a vibrating dildo, leather bindings, a collar, a blindfold, the ball gag, and now the vibrator and cock ring. it was almost too much for you. and what caused this? you spent the whole day with tetchou instead of jouno.

jouno grabbed a riding crop and smacked it against your other thigh this time, "what's the matter, doll?" he jeered, fingers brushing against your shin, tickling you as his fingers travelled up to your knee, "wanna cum?"

you nodded rapidly, tears rolling down your face from how long you've been edged from the cock ring and jouno suddenly removing all stimulants when you were on the brink of ecstasy. just one orgasm would've been enough to satisfy you.

"too bad. you just can't seem to remember who you belong to, slut." jouno let out a mocking laugh at your pitiful state, "sorry, doll, you aren't getting that release any time soon."

I had fun writing this

#bottom male reader #bungou stray dogs #male reader #x bottom male reader #x male reader #bsd #bsd x male reader #bsd jouno #jouno saigiku #bungou stray dogs x male reader #sub male reader #jouno x reader #jouno x male reader #saigiku jouno #jouno bsd

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kairiscorner · 8 months

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what if miguel and y/n switched bodies for a day bc of sum villain that put a spell on them or smth imagine how weirded out the hq would be to see miguel smiling and all cheerful just not being his usual self 💀💀 and y/n being grumpy and petty

HFIREOGHRJTNVEIFBBREUFI BOO, I ... you have awoken my younger self's love for freaky friday (yeah i liked that movie as a kid BWAHHAHAHAHAH) anyway, I LOVE THAT

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

being in your shoes. — miguel o'hara x reader

"wow... i'm a fucking statue come to life." said miguel's awestruck voice with a chuckle following his statement of disbelief. he admired his palms, then his knuckles and the backs of his hands and arms—every vein and every curve, groove, and bump of his muscular arms were just a sight to behold; and the way his fists looked when clenched, and the way his fingers unfolded like the blooming petals of a flower... it was too much for your heart to handle, which, in this case, was technically his heart—anatomically speaking. as he admired the beauty of, well, himself–you went up to him with widened eyes, which quickly morphed into a scowl. "this is... humiliating." your own voice muttered in a low voice, almost as a growl, but miguel chuckled and ruffled your hair. "ooh," the big man let out a soft sound of curiosity at the discovery that he was practically twice your size.

he pressed his elbow down onto your head, making you–rather, miguel–grumble at this act of degradation and disrespect upon shorter people. "wow, y'know, i wouldn't blame you for doing this to me if we ever got back to normal. hell, i don't even want to go back to normal! have you seen this body?" you asked him aloud with a chuckle, his own chuckle that was hardly ever heard, reverberating out into the atmosphere and making the you inside of his body swoon. "stop laughing, it's not funny, this is a cause for concern." he said with your voice as he folded your arms over your chest and glared at you, instinctively pouting despite his lips not appearing as pouty on purpose anymore.

"oh, shit, you do pout?" you asked him with a chuckle that made you giggle internally. miguel didn't appreciate how you abused his laugh so much that he grumbled and turned on his heel–in this scenario, it was your heel–and stormed out of his office as you remained there; admiring his wonderful body and flexing, asking lyla to take pictures of this rare moment when the photo shots of miguel are candid but also taken with such flare that you'd think he was crazy for agreeing to this–the miguel o'hara everyone knew was... nothing like this.

as you walked down the halls in a pink compression shirt and yoga volleyball shorts, as opposed to the usual spider suit miguel donned on every day–you smiled at everyone you met, even if they didn't greet you first–stunning and shocking everyone out of their minds. wide-eyed lenses and hung open mouths greeted you as you greeted them with a warm smile that nobody had ever witnessed before. it was like an silver lining had unexpectedly shown through as the eternal, dark and thunderous clouds tore the sky asunder and welcomed the first rays of sunshine that the spider society had sworn they saw before... on you. but that sunshine was replaced by a gray rainy day hovering over your head and furrowed eyebrows that didn't complement your soft, adorable, amicable face.

whenever anyone greeted you, with miguel in your body, he'd practically growl at them to a loud silence–he'd nod without even looking anybody's way, confusing everyone into thinking you woke up on the wrong side of the bed today or something really bad had happened to you. as everyone went over to you, patting your shoulder, asking you if you're okay–he's scream in your higher pitched voice that you were just peachy.

everyone was astonished at how boldly angry and furious you were being, and at how boldly sweet and darling miguel was being today–everyone kept referencing that a freaky friday situation must've happened to you two, with only miguel in your body explaining that was exactly the situation, but they all laughed it off as a joke, since it came out of your mouth. "yeah, pequeña–oh, fuck, that sounds sexy–yeah, uh, chiquita–you're acting out of your mind right now, darl." "darl?!" your voice snarled in an angry, squeaky voice, making miguel chuckle and ruffle your hair again. "so sweet for me, chiquita." you said in miguel's voice, teasing him in your body as he grumbled.

oh, this was not gonna be fun for him, at all... but it was gonna be way, way too much fun for you.

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @hearts4gabri @hisachuu @wreakingmarveloushavok @fictarian @yuridopted0 @simsrandomstuff @luvstarrstruck @popeheywardssecretgf @meeom @arachnoia @melovetitties @fable-library @ophanimgold @smokeywhalee @capnshtfce

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l13 · 9 months

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could you write a little smth smth for brat tamer hobie x brat reader

giggles blush squeaks smooches ily and ur writing like i check your blog every day to see your new posts

no bc i just had an epiphany and imagine:

i feel like hobie would try to redirect your bratiness into making you want to be good for him/seek praise

like in response to your "make me," he'd go "But you've been so good for me love, don't need to make you do anythin'. I like it when you're good." and you're immediately putty in his hands, stuttering while trying to find a good enough response, something to piss him off, but he just laughs, giving your temple a soft kiss as he leaves you pouting, "Don't start something you can't finish,"

FAMOUS LAST WORDS cause guess what you didn't stop starting shit

you wanted to get a rise out of him so bad that nothing he did or said, strayed you from your goal.

he was patient at first too, just grinning and smirking while you tried to be bratty, to go against his words but he'd just shrug "You go ahead and lemme know when you're finished," or "S cute that you think this'll work", but then you got bolder, touching and teasing him in public, on missions, around hq and mainly around people, knowing that hobie couldn't do jack shit with them around. Even if he could he'd never ever allow anyone to see you like that, and you knew that, using it to your advantage.

But this is Hobie we're talking about, and there's no way in hell he'd let you win this. As I said before he can be patient- and he was patient for weeks all the while refusing to touch you, turning a blind eye to your teasing, reminding himself that this was worth waiting for.

You, however, were going insane. Not only were you craving his touch, but you thought that you'd done something wrong, thinking that maybe your bratiness was a turn off for him, something that worried you deeply

so hobie wasn't surprised when you walked over to him with a pout on your face when you got home, your mouth already watering at the way he was sitting on the couch, legs spread and all

"Something you need, love?"

you'd drop to your knees immediately, hands falling on his thighs as you apologized over and over, begging him to do something- anything

and he'd coo down at you, "M'baby finally wants to be good, huh? Climb on up, love, 'm all yours," <33

#l13 #anon.<3 #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown hcs #hobie brown headcanons #hobie x reader #hobie brainrot #hobie brown brainrot #hobie brown thirst

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spider999sposts · 10 months

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...while I kept you like an oath. —Miguel O'Hara

🕸previous writings: part 1

🕸synopsis: miguel is done keeping you his secret

🕸tags: fem!reader × Miguel O'Hara

🕸warning: suggestive dancing, but that's about it.

🕸authors note: wanted to make up for the asshole miguel in part 1!

It's been a full week. 7 days, 9 hours, and 10 minutes ever since what had unfolded at his birthday.

And not a single day passed without Miguel watching you.

He had his eyes glued to the monitors every night. Watching you in your own universe. You stopped being a superhero, and surprisingly that did not break the canon, everyone was allowed to take breaks after all.

Everyday he watched you. He watched you go back to your boring job as a photographer in that horrid journalism job some of your variants' kind share. He watched you grab your coffee in the afternoon, and he watched you interact with your co-workers. It made his blood boil whenever he saw one of them flirting or trying to make a move on you, and yet he could do nothing about it.

Events of the last day he saw you played in his head. The words 'I don't want to be with a man who is so horrified to be with me.' played in his head over and over, like it was some broken record. You just didn't get it, did you? Perhaps he was being too rough too. He might be standoffish and harsh, but he was self aware. Once he got over his pride, guilt washed over his senses. He spent two days of the seven trying to convince himself that nothing would happen to him if you never saw each other again.

And now here he was. At 2 AM. Staring at his monitors with blood red eyes. You'd realised early on that he would be watching you through your gizmo, so you turned it off. When you did, he asked Jess to go and set up a small device to make him be able to see you. Jess told him to just talk to you, but he somehow thought this was the better idea.

He rubbed his eyes. In your universe, the time was the same. It was the weekend tommrow, you were watching that god-awful hispanic soap opera you used to watch with him. You had dozed off on the couch, while the TV was still on.

"Um, boss, this isn't healthy.." LYLA chirped. Miguel rolled his eyes and got up, waving her away. She zipped to his other side to avoid having her hologram glitch. "You should speak for once."

"LYLA."

"I am just saying. You can't keep watching through monitors like a creeper! Do you know what we do with creepers? We gouge out their peepers—"

"Spare me." He moved away from her, getting off his platform. He knew his little assistant was right though. How come a man who is so obsessed with fixing things in the whole wide multiverse, cannot even muster up the courage to love you as loudly and proudly as he could? And to admit that he's wrong?

He needed to do something. And he needed to come up with it, quick.

----

Hobie visited you queit often after what transpired. You cried on his shoulder for a while, and he did everything he knew to do to comfort you. In his odd little ways.

Today was no different. You were sitting on your couch, eating some ice cream, when Hobie portalled in. It was an odd way to enter but you've gotten used to his antics.

"Hey, Hobie. Come sit, the show is about to start—"

"Oi, listen.." He sits next to you, his colours changing then finally setting on yellow. "Let's get ya out today, huh? I have a little something planned for you."

"I don't want to go to your punk concerts, Hobie, I get too overstimulated by all the—"

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Don't worry, it ain't that," He couldn't believe he was doing this. Following orders. But he wouldn't do it if he knew it wouldn't help. "Just a little something. Some people in HQ miss you, ya know? We planned a little get together, thats all." That was half the truth at least.

You were a bit suspicious of him, but you put your ice cream aside. "Are there gonna be drinks?"

"Lots of em."

"The Unnamed?"

" 'M starting to think I got you addicted." He laughed, "Come on, get off your bum."

You 'got off your bum' and walked over to your room, changing the oversized shorts and tee to something a little more presentable. You returned after making sure your hair looked well and your face looked okay, noticing Hobie had already opened the portal.

He moved before you both could enter it, putting a blindfold around your eyes. "What's this for?"

"A kink of mine." He joked.

"I am older than you, y'know?"

"Age is a conceptual idea...unless you're a child, or something, then age is good...—I'm saying that children cannot mingle with adults even if age is—"

You laughed at his stumbling, and you patted...his chest? His shoulder? You couldn't really see. "I've got it, Hobie."

You heard him murmur under his breath, then he led you through the portal. You haven't felt this nauseous before, and it wasn't the universe-jumping.

When Hobie said some people in HQ miss you..he couldn't possibly mean him, right?

Your thoughts were intruppted when you felt the cold summer breeze on your bare skin. Hobie's hand left your shoulder, and you felt him move behind you. "Pretty chilly." And queit. A little too much.

When he removed the cloth from around your eyes, you got ingulfed in a tight embrace. By multiple people.

You could see tufts of blonde hair at your shoulder, and a pregnancy bump pressed against your side. There was also something..crawling.

When everyone loosened their grip, Mayday slid right into your arms. "Ah, that's where the crawling was coming from." You chuckled, giving her a little hug. "God, It's been a week and we already miss you." says Jess. She looked glowing. As she has the whole period of her pregnancy. A hand slung around your shoulder, "Yeah, Mayday and I missed you! Mayday especially. You know how she never eats her vegetable puree except when you feed it to her." You chuckled at Peter's comment. "I've missed you too, guys." You reached over and messed up Gwen's hair. After you caught up with your friends, a few other people came over and talked to you.

It was after a few moments that you realised that you were, once again, on the roof of the Spider Society HQ. It was a casual party it seems, like the ones you had every weekend. You looked over at Hobie and raised your brows. He grinned at you, and even though he was trying to play it cool, he knew you had him figured out. His colour changed from the usual grey to a pinkish hue.

"Hobie Brown, did you lure me here just to bring me back to the HQ?"

"A man never tells his secrets."

You chuckled, but took a long pause after. Your eyes met his for a moment.

"Did he tell you to bring me here?"

Hobie's colours went a deeper shade of pink, but he still had that stoic look on his face.

Before he could answer you, Gwen and Pavitir pushed him into the dance floor. He looked at you, almost remorseful. Just almost.

You did not see Miguel anywhere, so you just retreated to the bar, seeing that Lego Spiderman was bartending. You asked for Hobie's drink but he looked clueless to what you just ordered, so you just told him to grab you a soda. When he asked for what kind, you just set your head on the counter.

You could hear him trotting away.

You didn't want to be here. You didn't want to see him, and you knew Hobie probably has good intentions but you didn't want to return. At least this soon.

You sighed, but as soon as you raised your head, the hairs on the back of your neck stood up. Your senses were going off. Someone was watching you, and you had a pretty good idea on who it might be. Yet when you looked behind you, you saw nothing but the dancing crowd.

Unknown to you that Miguel was just a few steps away. Dodging your gaze as much as he could.

"Breath unregulated. Heartbeat rate is getting higher—"

"Give it a rest, LYLA."

"Maybe I will, but you need to go before you experience a stroke."

Bothered, he shooed her away, but she just appeared on his other side.

"Rude." She mumbled, adjusting her crooked glasses. "Come onnnn, the hard part was getting this whole thing planned right? And it's going so smoothly."

For an AI built by one of the multiverse's greatest geniuses, she had no idea how hard it was. For a man as prideful as him, admitting he is wrong is the hard part.

He just cleared his throat, and held his head up high as he made his way towards the counter.

He noticed the soda can you were sipping on, and a hum came out of him.

"No odd drinks today, It seems."

You chuckled. Sarcastically. And you didn't look at him.

'Comienzo brillante.' He thought.

He leaned on the counter, trying to get a look at you. You weren't even paying any attention to him. It bothered him, there was a feeling in his chest, clawing at him. He knows he deserves this, every action has its equal opposite reaction.

"You came back to my little club-house." That came out meaner than he meant it to be, but it was not his intention. It got you to go at him though. His features softened. Your eyes had a red hue around them, from all the crying, he presumed.

"I didn't. Hobie dragged me here."

For once in his life, Hobie listened to him. Maybe only because he realised how truly misrable Miguel was when he walked in on him watching you through the monitors.

"But you still came."

"I did not know where he was taking me." You replied shortly, putting down your soda. Miguel hummed, "I told him to bring you here."

That made you shoot a glare at him. Thank god, any reaction to his words was enough for him. It showed him that you still cared.

"Yeah, I guessed."

He raised his leg on the foot of your bar chair, and he leaned closer. This was odd. He was at a very close proximity to you, infront of everyone.

"We need to speak." He said firmly, tilting his head at you. "Do we only need to speak when you decide? What if I don't want to speak with you?" Oh, you were trying to get back at him. He couldn't lie, it irritated him. He was a patient man once, but that was long ago.

"But you do." His red irsis glanced at your lips. He was so close that you could smell his musky cologne. It took every muscle in your body not to react to him. You were furious with him, but you could not help it. Your body gave in naturally to him. Put both of you in the same room, and no matter how much you feel like you hate him, no matter how much he upset you, your attraction to Miguel was almost animalistic. Resisting him was like resisting the tides when the moon was closest to the earth.

Almost impossible.

"I–I don't." You didn't like faltering infront of him. You didn't want to show him how he has this hold on you.

Miguel reached up to your face, pushing a few strands of stray hair behind your ear. It was a gentle gesture, and a very obvious one. You pulled away, "What are you doing–"

"For God's sake–" He sighed when you pulled away. "–I...I'm trying to. I'm trying to do something."

"Do something? Miguel, it's been a week since you saw me and—and—" You stood up, your head at level with his chest. "You tell Hobie to bring me here just to play these mind games—"

"¡Dìos Mìo!, I am trying to apologise!"

That was a little too loud. He slammed his hand on the counter and the clap sound it made made some people turn their heads towards the both of you. But their stares didn't last long, Gwen had quickly moved to change the song as to distract them.

You were both staring at each other now. You were panting. His chest was heaving, you could feel his hot breath on the top of your head.

Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose, a habit he only did when he was so stressed he couldn't think straight. He took in a deep breath, calming himself down. You could see it. How his face contorted and how the veins in his forehead stopped protruding.

"I'm sorry." He mumbled, his fingers brushing against yours. "I'm sorry I called you childish, and made you feel naïve when that is not the case." He looked geniune, as geniune as the night he told you he loved you. "You were pretty reasonable. I was the one who.." He struggled a bit to spit it out, but when he did, a smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. "...who was wrong."

You weighed his words for a moment.

"Okay." is all that came out of your mouth. Miguel felt like that was not enough.

"Okay?"

"Yes, okay."

"¿Quieres volverme loco?"

[Do you want to drive me mad?]

You laughed at his question. His harsh features softened at the sound.

"I accept your apology. Is there anything else you wanted to say?" He did not acknowledge your biggest concern. If you were to return to him, you were going to do it on your terms now, not his. And so far, putting aside the face–touching and the finger–brushing, he had not came front with how your relationship was to resume.

Miguel looked across the dance floor, and Hobie gave him a small nod. A song, very familiar to the both of you began playing.

Your eyes widened but you said nothing. Miguel, though, extending his hand to you.

"I owe you a dance,."

"Ah, no, sorry, I can't. You know we can't."

"Aye, Deja de ser terca, hermosa."

[Stop being stubborn, beautiful]

His eyes were practically pleading you. And maybe, just maybe, you couldn't keep up with this tension anymore.

You let him lead you to the dance floor. You felt the eyes of everyone on the both of you. The music got louder.

Miguel's strong arms wrapped around your waist, securing you near him. You both swayed to the beat. His head was lowered enough, you could hear him mumble the lyrics, "Y hemos de darnos un beso...Encerrados en la luna" He twirled you, then brought you back to his chest. "You're a good dancer." You mumbled to him, and he chuckled. "Thank you."

"And a good singer. Didn't know you liked to sing."

"I don't." His arms tightened around your waist, as his lips brushed against your ear. You gasped, your hand holding onto his bicep. "You can just say, I really like this song."

"Andale, eres secreto de amor..." He twirled you again, his hands seemed to get lower and lower by the minute. First they found the small of your back, then, you felt them around your hips. The beat of the song seemed to have changed completely. It was much more sensual now.

Miguel picked up on that, and he turned you around, hips grinding against yours. The friction made your legs wobble. You set your back against his hard chest, and when you did, he bucked forwards, still very much grinding against you. You could feel everyone's eyes on you, you could see how they were staring. Whispering.

"Miguel, they're watching u—" You felt his lips on your neck. He left a tender kiss under your ear, "I know." He whispered. "I thought—"

"You speak too much." He rasped out, his voice strained. You felt his hands roam around your hips again, and before you could register, he turned you around and set his forehead against yours. "I can't control myself around you. I don't like that." He began, closing his eyes. "I don't like not being in control."

"I know."

"But," His eyes opened, and this time, that look in his eyes that you couldn't decipher from last time was present. But you know what it was now.

Desire. Utter and pure desire.

"I'd rather not lose you over my pride."

That was it for you. You cupped his face, and he instantly knew what to do. With one hand pulling you in by the waist, and the other on your cheek. Your lips collided, and when they did, you forgot about space and time. He kissed you dizzy, like his only mission was to make you forget what he'd done, or at least, to make up for being such an asshole, and by the time he was done, you had already forgiven him.

"Swear on my mother, you need to get a room." came a sound from behind you. You laughed at Hobie's comment, but Miguel did not. However, he flashed you a playful, boyish grin. "For once, he is right."

"Miguel."

"Scientifically, it would make us feel better." His large palms squeezed your hips, and you squealed a little. "And you know, we should do it to make sure there are no negative underlying feelings."

"Ah."

"It would break the multiverse if we don't do it."

"And of course, the.." You imitated his voice, making it sound deeper than it actually is. "..'fate of the multiverse' is more important than everything, no?"

He cupped both your cheeks again, this tenderness was new. You could get used to this. "Not everything." He whispered.

There was a cold metal against your warm skin, you took a glance at his hand and smiled.

"You kept it."

"Ah, yes, my 'fucking' birthday gift." You shared a laugh, continuing to sway. He pulled a similar box to the one you gave him from his pocket, and handed it to you. You furrowed your brows, "What for?"

"Consider it an apology."

When you opened it, there was a ring similar to his. A promise ring just like the one you gave him.

Engraved inside was today's date. There were words engraved inside of it as well.

'Till the multiverse do us part.'

"Hm."

"You don't like it?"

"Very corny for a man like you."

"You're the one who gave me a promise ring first. We are not 17."

"And yet, you still wear it."

He chuckled at your remark.

"And yet, I still wear it."

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5up3r-50n5 · 10 months

Text

(Ps. I want this to be a funny skit, so no hate pls)

Gwen:*giggling suspiciously*

Miles:Ummm... Gwen? I'm probably gonna regret asking but...what are you doing?

Gwen:MILES! MY MAN! YOU CAME JUST IN TIME!!

Miles:Y'Know what? I better go home! See you late-

Gwen: NHU UH! YOU ARE IN THIS WITH ME NOW!

Miles:I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT ARE TALKING ABOUT

Gwen:Oh Yea you're right, ok so *hand him a pack of wipes*, you know what they are right?

Miles:...Whipes

Gwen:Almost! These are homemade wipes! And guess what they do!

Miles:shit what do girls do with wipes

Miles:...Clean...makeup?

Gwen:WRONG!! Well not really... BUT THESE ONES ARE DIFFERENT! You see these don't clean makeup they applie it!

Miles:

Miles:??????

Gwen:YES! They applies fondation! Light skin fondation! Plus It's hard to clean in even with makeup remover

Miles:Gweeen...you don't want to use it on me...right?

Gwen:Nhaa don't worry double M I need you for my plan

Miles:...Double M?...wait what plan?

Gwen:I want to use it on Hobie-

Miles:I'm in

Gwen:...you didn't even heard the rest-

Miles:I said *get closer to Gwen and put his hands on her shoulders* I.am.in. When do we start

Gwen:That's why I love you

Miles:What

Gwen:I said I'm glad I have you...for this plan

(At Hobie's house)

Gwen:Hobie...we need to tell you something...

Hobie:A'ight but ma'e it quick, I have a date with Pav in fiv' minutes

Miles:Hobie...You're...Shit man is hard to say but you're...white

Hobie:

Hobie:Did you took somethin' on the way her'

Gwen:No Hobie...you have to accept the truth...you're not black

Hobie:Do ya need glasses? Are ya color blind? My skin's literally dark brown

Gwen:I knew you were going to say that, so we took these *takes the wipes*

Hobie:..Wipes?

Miles:Yes

Hobie:OMG...OK FINE BU' BE QUICK ' I HAV A TON OF THINGS TO DO

Gwen:*wipes Hobie’s hand*

Hobie hand:*become light skin*

Hobie:

Gwen:Hobie...?

Hobie:*gets up*

Hobie:*opens a portal*

Hobie:*gets inside the portal'

Hobie:*the portal close*

Miles:Welp! Guess it didn't work

Gwen:Just wait

Gwen's phone rings

Gwen:*picks up the phone*

Pavitr on the phone:CAN YOU TELL ME WHY HOBIE IS CRYING AND BEGGING NOT TO BE WHITE

Hobie on the background:WHY LORD WHY!!!

Pavitr:HOBIE YOU DON'T EVEN BELIVE IN-

Pavitr:OH FOR GOD'S SAKE! I'LL CALL YOU LATER-

Pavitr:NO HOBIE STAY AWAY FROM THE WINDOW! DON'T YOU DARE JUMP-

Pavitr:*ends the phone call*

Miles:

Gwen:

Miles:

Gwen:Wanna try it on Miguel?

Miles:YES

Some Times Later at HQ

Jess:Miguel...?

Miguel:And I thought that my life couldn't get any worst, what a fool

Jess:Tf is wrong with u again?

#hobie brown #pavitr prabhakar #pavitr x hobie #chaipunk #miles morales #gwen stacy #The problematics 4 #Traumatized Hobie Brown #Miguel is next #Tired Pavitr Prabhakar

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ohmykiyo · 11 months

Text

🪦 title ; cuddles w/ hq boys :) genre ; fluff warnings ; lowercase intended characters ; sakusa, suna, atsumu, konoha, akaashi, kita 🗝️ jeilly's notes ; felt cuddly today, and i miss my boys so heres this my loves :) reqs are open!

SAKUSA shuffles lightly under the covers of your shared bed. he's quiet.. almost too quiet. you don't seem to notice as you're scrolling through instagram sleepily.

he's pouting. he knows you can't see it, but as his girlfriend, you should at least feel his clinginess radiating right now. but you pay no mind.

he groans loudly, which catches your attention.

"what's wrong, kiyo?" you mumble, stifling a yawn.

he sneers at you, crossing his arms over his chest. "how're you gonna ask me that without looking at me?"

you roll your eyes. sakusa couldn't see it due to the dark, but he felt it. finally turning your body to face him, you ask again. "what's wrong, baby?"

he stills. silence fills the air. it's not awkward, more like.. comfortable. but, the tension sakusa feels right now is enough to make it awkward.

"'m cold." he mutters.

you raise an eyebrow at him. "but you're under the covers, my love?"

his pout deepens, he's gonna have to say it since you don't get the hint.

in reality, you do. you just wanna hear his small pleas.

he frowns, "wanna cuddle you."

your lips turn up into a grin, drawing wobbly hearts on his bicep with your index.

"c'mere then, baby." you laugh, your arms opening up.

he crawls scoots towards you excitedly. snuggling close, he lets out a content sigh.

he finally turns in for the night, resting peacefully beside his lover.

SUNA yawns tiredly as he walks into your shared home. he smiles slightly at the sight of you on the couch.

you're immersed in some tv series, popping chips in your mouth every few minutes.

he says a little "i'm home!" to grab your attention.

the moment you heard his voice, you jumped up cheerfully. "rin!"

you engulf him in a comforting hug, and he indulges in it. taking in your scent, he whispers, "missed you, pretty."

your cheeks turn red before shoving him gently. he only smirks at your reaction, poking your cheek.

"i missed you, too." you smile. you notice the slight slump of his shoulders and his exhausted eyes.

he is definitely in need of cuddles.

you stare at him intently, "get into your pj's, rin, come cuddle me."

him being absolutely in love with you, follows your orders. walking into the bedroom and shortly coming out in his pj's which coincidentally matched with yours.

"i'm waiting, baby." he smiles, leaning on the hallway wall.

you had just finished cleaning up, so you happily skip to his tall figure.

he grabs hold of your hand before leading you into the bedroom and placing you on the comfy bed.

you open your arms, ready to wrap them around his neck as he lays his head on your chest.

"tiring day?"

he nods, placing soft kisses to your chest and collarbone before going dead silent.

he rests easy, falling asleep to the rhythm of your heartbeat.

ATSUMU lays sprawled out on the bed. he seems to be getting more and more irritated as he waits for you.

you, his perfect little lover, were taking your time doing your skincare. you did this every night meticulously, even on nights when atsumu was needy for your touch.

you hear him from the bathroom, groaning and whining, growing impatient at your slow ass.

"babe, ya might as well kill me while yer doin' allat." he complains.

you scoff, "'tsumu stop being a brat."

he only huffs, a visible pout on his lips.

you finally pack away your skincare products, walking into the bedroom where your petty boyfriend lays.

"'m here now, 'tsumu." you call, waiting for him to acknowledge you.

he looks at you for a brief moment, then looks back up at the ceiling. "go back to the bathroom since ya wanna take 30 fuckin' years doin' god knows what." he says, sarcasm lacing his tone.

"oh really? don't mind if i-"

"don't ya dare finish that sentence." he growls, now sitting up. he stares at you, expectantly.

"whaddya want, 'tsum? you keep staring." you smile sheepishly.

"get the fuck into bed? what're ya doin' just standin' there?" he huffs, "i'm gettin' cold."

you hear the last part, you don't think you were meant to but you did.

smiling cheekily, you take your place beside him, scooting closer to his warm body.

"if you're cold, cuddle me back." you say, nudging your head into his side. he groans dramatically, but complies anyway.

he places a gentle kiss to your head, wrapping his muscular arms around your waist securely.

"g'night, ma princess." he whispers, drifting off.

he sleeps like a baby, your small breaths soothing him.

KONOHA taps on his table impatiently. he's been doing a shit ton of school work and it's stressing him out more than usual.

he sighs, tired and needing a little pick-me-up, he chooses to search for you.

he walks out of his room and shuffles around the house before finding you in the kitchen, watching something on your phone.

"hi, my love." he whispers, hands finding their way to your shoulders. you look up at him, a smile on your face. you put your phone down before getting up to wrap your arms around his neck.

"you okay, aki?" you ask, caressing the nape of his neck.

he lets out a dejected sigh, slumping a little and laying his head on your shoulder. "tired." he mumbles.

you pinch his cheek gently before bringing him into his bedroom.

plopping him down on the soft sheets, you lay beside him, placing his head carefully on your plush thighs.

konoha lets out another sigh, this time a content one. he takes your hand before laying it on his chest as he caresses it with his thumb.

"you sure know me well, don't you, love?" he smiles, looking up at you. you only nod, running your fingers through his dirty-blonde hair.

"take it easy, baby." you whisper.

that was the last thing he head before falling asleep to your warm touch.

AKAASHI waits quietly, his eyes gliding over the words on the book he's currently reading.

he's patient, he waits and waits as you finish up getting ready for bed. his favorite time of the day was when you're incredibly tired and come to him being all affectionate.

he loved that. seeing you all clingy for his touch just warmed his heart.

he finally looks up from his book as you flick off the light to the bathroom. "you ready for bed, my love?"

you nod, a yawn escaping your lips. you make your way to his side, laying there as if you're a dead body. still and unmoving.

he pokes your side, putting his book away. "you're forgetting something, sweetheart." he whispers.

you look up at him with tired eyes, snuggling closer to his chest as you mumble a quiet "goodnight, my love." before he pulls you closer.

he smiles at your sleepy face, pressing one last kiss to your head before dozing off as well.

KITA watches you intently as you get the bed ready for the both of you to sleep in. "i could've done that, y'know?" he says.

you look up at him blankly before continuing to fix up the bed, "you're tired, and you had a long day."

his eyes widen. he didn't think you'd notice.

but the slump of his shoulders and the tired red eyes were enough to give it away.

you pick up the blanket, settling in between the blanket and the bed. you pat the empty stop beside you, motioning for him to get in as well.

a small and unnoticeable smile makes its way to his lips. 'i'm so lucky.' he thought.

he takes his place beside you. you extend your arm for him to lay on, and he complies happily. moving his arm to hold your waist, he mumbles a little "i love you".

your hand makes its way to his cheek, caressing the soft skin gently. you smile, muttering a quiet "i love you more".

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lilasamaaa · 2 days

Text

In the crowd | Carlos Sainz x Reader

Genres | Angst, Hurt/Comfort.

Word count | 3.6K.

Warnings | Alcohol consumption, drugs, mentions of violence.

Summary | Reader's an engineer at Scuderia Ferrari in Maranello. While attending the season's launch party, her drink gets spiked.

Author's Note | Hi all! After the longest time, I've felt the need to come back here for some silly writing. New blog because the last one got cringe. Let me know what you think!

One might think that after two years within the scuderia, the season’s launch parties would make her less uneasy. That after two years of being apart of the engineering team, she would finally be used to attending public gatherings. That after two years, she’d be a natural at walking in the open, feeling the glances slide over her figure. She is stunningly beautiful. Perhaps that's her burden. She doesn't realize it.

When she walks across the paddock or the stands, she knows people are staring at her. She avoids meeting their gazes, feeling embarrassed. She thinks there must be something wrong with her outfit, with her gait. Why else would they stare for so long?

In Maranello, there’s a bakery at the corner of the HQ building where she stops every morning. The cashier always offers her something extra. A coffee. An additional pastry. She finds him polite, very customer-oriented. One morning, as she was freeing her croissant from the paper napkin it was wrapped in, she’d discovered a phone number scrawled in pen ink, with a hastily drawn smiley face. She’d stared at the napkin, perplexed, seated at her desk. He must have made a mistake, she thinks. It must have been meant for the customer before her. The one with the beautiful blonde curls and the Chanel perfume. She didn't call, didn't send a message. She continued to visit the bakery. The cashier never mentioned the number, proving her theory.

Someone brushing past her brings her back to earth. The party is in full swing, and she’s just not. She spots her colleagues bustling around the buffet and the bar, engrossed in lively conversations. While some don't even notice her, others wave their hands, encouraging her to join them. She forces a smiles, returns the wave. Then she tightens her grip around her clutch. Anything to make her feel like she’s in control. To make her forget that the music’s too loud, the lights too vibrant, the air too hot.

She doesn't remember ever feeling comfortable in her body. Years of growing up in an unstable family where love was doled out sparingly do that to a person.

"Hey," comes a familiar voice. She turns her head, her big eyes catching sight of Livio’s, one of her colleagues. "Are you not dancing?" he continues, a drink in hand. His whiskey breath hits her straight on. She discreetly glances at her watch, noting that it's barely nine.

"I haven't had enough to drink for that," she replies, trying to dodge the invitation.

"Let's go get you something then," Livio responds, grabbing her arm and heading towards the bar.

She's noticed that men always do that with her. Not just her colleagues, but people she doesn't know either. She's too kind, too gentle; she never raises her voice. So they grab her by the hips, the arms, the wrists. Anything is an excuse to touch her. She hates it.

"What do you want?" Livio asks.

Nothing, really, but she can't say that.

"Something sweet, please. I don't like strong alcohol," she replies. Livio seems to ponder her question for a second, his mouth pursed.

"I have something for you to try, wait," he continues, signaling to the bartender. "You're going to like it, don't worry."

A few seconds later, a glass of Plymouth is placed in front of her, and she looks up at Livio. Does he think I've never tasted gin in my life? she wonders, puzzled. She would like to refuse the drink, ask for the cherry liqueur she discovered last time indeed. But already, Livio has grabbed her glass and hands it to her with a big smile. "Salute," he exclaims, downing his own glass in one gulp.

Cries and applause suddenly echo in the large reception hall, causing her to turn her head. It takes her a few minutes to understand the reason for this sudden commotion. Until she sees them, a few meters away.

Charles and Carlos.

Her eyes can't seem to tear away from the two pilots making their way through the crowd to a small stage where a microphone is set up. It's tradition : to kick off the season in style, the entire team eagerly awaits the drivers' speeches. Everyone wants to hear their words, their encouragements, their hopes and goals for the season.

A friend once asked her if she knew Charles and Carlos personally. She can't really say yes. That would be a lie. She's exchanged words with each of the athletes before, giving them information about the race, their car, and the expected weather. These exchanges have always been brief and cordial. Professional. Nothing more.

Even though... No, she thinks, lightly shaking her head. That was nothing. But still...

It had happened just before the race in Singapore, last year.

A friend from engineering school had moved there at the beginning of the year, and they had agreed to meet for dinner at a fancy restaurant in the city. It was an opportunity to reminisce about the years spent at Polytechnique, studying (a bit), suffering (a lot), and getting drunk (a whole lot).

She had chosen a long emerald green silk dress, slit up to mid-thigh. The perfect balance between classy and sexy. She had no intention of charming her companion - notoriously attracted to men, anyway - but this meal was the perfect excuse to leave her eternal Ferrari jumpsuits for something more feminine.

In the long corridor leading to the elevator, she'd suddenly felt on a catwalk, letting herself get caught up in the moment and rolling her hips perhaps a tad too exaggeratedly. The person emerging from the corner at the far end of the corridor surprised her, but not enough to disrupt her stride, her heels clicking against the floor.

She had recognized him immediately, of course.

Dressed in a simple fitted black polo and a pair of dark jeans, his eyes had not left hers throughout their crossing. When the two had finally reached the same level, she'd breathed out a small "Good evening, Carlos," suddenly insecure about everything. Her outfit. Her gait. The messy bun revealing her neck. The cleavage leaving no room for a bra and showing the beginning of her breasts.

He had passed her, nodding in acknowledgment, and each had continued on their way. She was certain... No, almost certain, that she had dreamt the words that had followed.

"That's one lucky guy."

Yes, she was almost certain she had dreamt it. Watching the Spaniard in the distance take hold of the microphone and tap it gently to check the connections, she became increasingly convinced. There was no chance that this man, chiseled from marble, could have noticed her. Desired her.

His accent echoes throughout the room, and she instinctively closes her eyes, as if bathed in the gentle sun of Madrid. She's not listening - not really - only catching words here and there. "Truly an honor," "Very impressed by your efforts," "Promising changes." But her mind is elsewhere, between Maranello and Singapore, tethered to the memory that makes her lower abdomen tingle in the sweetest of ways.

"And now, it's time to celebrate!" Carlos says as the room erupts with joy and anticipation.

"Earth to you?" comes a much less pleasant voice than the one that has just quieted down.

"I'm sorry, what?" she says, returning her attention to Livio.

"Oh, wow, you've got to be kidding me. Is it just me, or are you completely absorbed by this guy?" Livio replies, his mouth twisted in a grimace.

"Who?" she asks, genuinely confused.

"Sainz. You were hanging on his every word."

"I just think it's nice that they're giving an encouraging speech. Both of them," she explains, avoiding the Italian's gaze.

"Yeah, okay. Should we get another drink?" he asks, taking hold of her arm again.

She wants to protest. She can still taste the gin at the back of her mouth. It can't have been more than twenty minutes since her first drink. But Livio is already almost dragging her behind him, clearly determined not to let her escape tonight. And once again, that hand locks around her arm. Firm. Not open to discussion. She feels something almost territorial in the gesture, something that strongly displeases her, so she vows to mention it to Livio. Someday. Not tonight.

This time, he doesn't even pretend to care about what she wants to drink, ordering two whiskies straight away. She hates it. The taste, the look, what this alcohol does to her mind and body. But Livio has already slipped two bills to the bartender, and a moment later, the amber liqueur lands in her right hand.

While her drinking companion is already tilting his head back, clearly unaware that this type of alcohol is to be savored and not downed in one go, she observes the glass, intrigued by the few bubbles that are forming on the surface. I had no idea whiskey could do that, she thinks before bringing the liquid to her lips.

A few minutes later, she's managed to shake off Livio by claiming she needed to use the restroom. She crosses paths with Carlos walking in the other direction, maybe three people ahead of her, but he doesn't notice her.

In front of the restroom mirror, touching up her lipstick, her focus changes as she sees a drop of sweat trickle down her temple and slide slowly onto her cheek. I'm rather cold, though, she thinks, almost suppressing a shiver. Her head suddenly feels very light. She blames the alcohol. Putting her lipstick back in her clutch and tucking a strand of hair that threatened to escape from her bun, she pushes the restroom door open again, bracing herself to face the social world once more.

Passing by the buffet, a wave of nausea washes over her, forcing her to stop for a few seconds, leaning against the table and closing her eyes.

"I thought it was you," echoes the sunny accent in her ears. With her eyes still closed, she wishes their new encounter, one that she'd admit she's dreamed about, had happened differently. At a better time. A time when she wasn't battling a fierce urge to throw up.

"Are you okay?" Carlos inquires, raising his hand as if to support her but stopping halfway.

She takes a few seconds to push the unpleasant sensations from her body as far away as possible before lifting her head, opening her eyes, and being rewarded with the exquisite sight of his luscious hair and amber eyes.

"Hi," she manages to utter in a faint voice. "Great speech," she continues, still leaning against the table.

"You look pale," the driver responds, looking concerned.

The words escape her lips before they even reach her brain. She regrets them instantly. Something inside her just give way, like a dam.

"Sorry. I must have looked better in Singapore," she says.

Carlos widens his eyes, surprised, before letting out an awkward laugh.

"Sorry for staring at you like that, that night. You were... Well, you are...," he continues, seeming to search for his words.

She would so love to hear the rest, to know what he was going to say. But dizziness seizes her, and she feels herself tipping against the table. Well, almost, because suddenly, an arm wraps around her waist, pressing her against a chest that, yes, she's also dreamed about several times. But not like this. Not in this state.

"Hey," Carlos says, his voice tinged with worry.

"I'm so sorry, this never happens to me. I must have had one drink too many, I—"

"I saw you at the bar not even ten minutes ago," the Spaniard continues. "No alcohol hits you that fast. Not even shots."

"I'm fine," she says, and the pilot understands that she's saying it not only to reassure him but herself as well. And, as if the words had commanded it, the fog in her mind dissipates a bit. Enough for her to gently detach herself from the pilot, finding her balance on her own two feet again. She'd like to take advantage of this newfound clarity to keep the Spaniard close to her. Him, that she never crosses paths with, whom she never speaks to, and yet who appeals to her so much.

But Charles arrives. He smiles at her, asks if she's okay, if she's enjoying the evening, and oh, "I'll borrow him for a moment, I'm so sorry, sponsors, you know," and oh, once again, she finds herself alone at the buffet, watching the two men walk away, Carlos still watching her as he reluctantly retreats.

"I was beginning to think he'd never leave," Livio says, leaning against the buffet, his hip brushing against hers.

She wants to scream. Oh, how badly she wants to.

Sensing that she's not going to respond, the Italian tries his luck again.

"Should we dance? You seem intoxicated enough, now."

She doesn't even have time to respond before her colleagues guides her onto the dance floor, eagerly pressing his body against hers. His breath, previously tinged with whiskey, now betrays hints of tequila. The guy never has enough, she thinks, twirling reluctantly.

And there it goes again. The nausea, the queasiness. Spinning her around like a puppet doesn't help, she tells herself. She comes to a halt, cutting off Livio's momentum, causing some dancing couples to narrowly avoid colliding with them. Feeling vulnerable, she tries to get away, to seek refuge elsewhere. But her wrist is once again trapped.

"You don't look well. Come on, let's get you some fresh air," Livio says, heading towards one of the large glass doors.

She's often been described as naive by her loved ones. She believes that the whole world means well towards her, never suspects anyone of ill intentions. She would even say about herself that she has no instincts, let alone survival instincts. No sense of danger. Yet, perhaps for the first time in her life, something deep inside her is screaming not to follow the man. Her signals are on alert. Everything is flashing red in her mind. For her, it's a first. So, without thinking, without worrying about offending her colleague, she acts.

"I don't need to go outside," she says, trying to free herself from his grasp. She's sweating. She feels the unpleasant sensation of a thin layer of dampness creeping over her neck, her back, her hands.

Her feeble resistance is no match for Livio's strength, as he pulls her outside despite her protests. The music is too loud for anyone to hear their altercation. Divided between the buffet, the bar, and the dance floor, no one pays attention to this mismatched couple, to the determined man dragging a struggling woman behind him.

The door closes heavily behind them, stifling the sounds of the party, captured on the other side. It's cold outside, she feels it because her whole body shivers. But she, who was cold just a short while ago, feels like she's boiling. She raises her hand to her forehead, wiping away another bead of sweat that's formed between her eyebrows. What's happening to me? she thinks internally, troubled. Alcohol has never put her in such a state before.

"I'm so glad I ran into you tonight," Livio begins, either oblivious or indifferent to the young woman's condition.

She doesn't respond, feeling her head spinning, leaning against the wall behind her, gasping to try to catch her breath. Trying to control the burning heat that's engulfing her body.

"You look really beautiful tonight. Quite a change from the work overalls, huh!" the man continues.

She's not exactly sure at what moment he slipped between her legs, facing her, just a few centimeters from her face. But he's there, too close, forcing her to turn her head to the side to avoid his gaze - and his alcohol-laden breath.

"I said, you look really beautiful tonight," Livio says. "Are you not going to say anything?"

"What do you expect me to say to that?" she says, jaw clenched.

"Do you find me attractive?" the man asks, meeting her gaze.

The warning signals reappear along with the nausea. She barely has time to push the man away and lean to the side before emptying her stomach inches away from his feet. The naivety stops there. The pieces of the puzzle fall into place, realization hitting her painfully.

"What did you do to me?" she asks, her knees giving way under her weight, sending her crashing to the ground. He sneers, rolling his eyes, as she crawls a few meters, trying to put some distance between them. She's now sitting on the ground, her back to the wall.

"What? What are you talking about?" the Italian replies, offended.

"Did you put something in my drink?" she asks again.

"Come on, now. I've been helping you ever since you said you weren't feeling well. What kind of monster do you think I am?"

For a moment, her colleague's wounded look makes her seriously doubt herself. Maybe it really is just the alcohol, she thinks, trying to calm her racing mind. After all, why would someone deliberately choose to harm her? Why jump to that conclusion? Livio has always been charming. A bit clingy, but charming.

"I'm sorry for implying that. I'm gonna head back inside," she says, trying to stand up.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Livio answers, pushing her back down.

"What? why?" she asks, surprised.

"It wouldn't be very wise to parade in front of your colleagues and superiors in such a poor state," the Italian begins, his tone almost mocking. "It really doesn't give a good impression of you. It's not very professional."

"I haven't done anything, just had a few drinks," she responds, annoyed. "There's nothing wrong with that."

"You're so wasted you can't even stand. At a work event. Do you want to get fired or something?"

She opens her mouth to speak, to defend herself, but no words come out. She can't seem to figure out if Livio is with her or against her anymore. His words are harsh, aggressive, but deep down, the engineer probably isn't wrong. She struggled to secure a position here, at Ferrari. Even though she believes herself to be fairly skilled at her job and puts in long hours, there are hundreds of others doing the same work as her every day. And hundreds more who could replace her if the need arose.

She's not indispensable. She's not even that good at speaking Italian, having always had more ease in English or in French, even though she spends the majority of her evenings reading books in the language. She's just a tiny cog in the machine. She thinks about Carlos, too. What would he think, seeing me stumbling in the middle of the dance floor like a mad woman?

"Let me drive you home," Livio says, extending his hand. "Spare you the embarrassment.

She hadn't realized how tired she was. The offer is rather tempting. Getting back to her apartment, her cat, her bed. Above all, escaping the crowd. Forgetting this evening. Forgetting whatever she thought there was with Carlos, too, while she's at it. As a stronger wave of sleep washes over her, she temporarily closes her eyes.

"Come on," he says. "Let's get you in the car."

After her brain, her legs refuse to cooperate too. Her body barricades itself, trying to keep her firmly sheltered. Losing patience, Livio hoists her up, throwing her over his shoulder. She wants to protest against the position she finds herself in. That's so unladylike. Her last few connected neurons grapple over strange thoughts. I hope nobody sees my underwear, she thinks before her brain disconnects once again.

She's so far gone, yet the next words sound crystal-clear in her ears.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going?"

Sounds like Carlos, she thinks, delirious.

"What does it look like to you? I'm bringing her home. She's wasted," she hears, and she thinks it might be Livio, because she feels his body shaking with each words.

"There's no way I'm letting you leave with her. Put her down."

"Yeah? So you can have your way with her?"

"No, so I can punch you in the fucking face," the accent-thick voice shouts.

She must have passed out for good because she doesn't remember anything else. When she wakes up next, which feels like an eternity later, she's sitting against a wall, this time indoors, wrapped in a golden emergency blanket. There's no more music. Opening one eye, then the next, she's met with Carlos' brown ones. She tries to speak but her mouth feels dry. The Spaniard hands her a glass of water, helping her bring it to her lips.

"I somehow managed to look even worse," she jokes, reminiscing their earlier encounter.

"The paramedics have just arrived. They're going to take you to the hospital for a check-up," he says and she nods.

"Thank you, Carlos," she replies.

"I haven't done the half of what I would have wanted," he says, regret filling his voice.

"What do you mean?"

"This has to be the worst timing ever, But I... I actually wanted to ask you out, before Charles interrupted us and before, well... this," he says, gesturing around them.

He doesn't see it, but hidden under the blanket, she pinches her arm. Hard. Just to make sure she won't wake up a second time. Seeing that nothing changes, she lets out a little laugh.

"If you wanted me to wear that silky green dress, I'm so sorry, but I ruined it in the washer."

"You can wear a garbage bag for all I care," Carlos replies, looking at her fondly. "You'll still stand out in the crowd."

#f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 x reader #formula 1 #f1 imagine #carlos sainz #charles leclerc #formula1 #f1 2024 #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you

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redskull199987 · 11 months

Text

Homecoming

Hobie Brown x female!reader

Word count:1.7k

Warnings:slightly getting hurt, some nudity, but it's fluffy in general

Summary: atsp!spoilers, this sets place before the major events of atsp, but it still features some things from the movie, so spoiler warning to be sure.

You were the one and only Spider-Woman in your dimension for about three years, when you met him. Hobie Brown. It didn't take long for you to join the Spider Society. And it took even less time for you and Hobie to fall in love…

Masterlist

Today was probably the worst day, you had in weeks. It felt like everything that could possibly go wrong, eventually went wrong.

It was supposed to be an easy mission. Go in, get the villian, get out. But obviously, it didn't work out that way.

Miguel had teamed you up with Gwen and Pav today. Not that you minded, but you usually went on missions with Hobie, so it felt unusual.

Nevertheless, everything went perfectly fine, until you were supposed to leave the universe to get the villian to the HQ.

You had no idea why and Miguel had yet to figure it out, but your watch malfunctioned and send you on a journey through several universes, you weren't supposed to visit. It took the entire day and finally after fighting off one too many villians, that weren't yours, Miguel finally got to you, stopping you from helplessly traveling around.

After you and Miguel returned to the HQ, Pav and Gwen immediately went to apologize to you, while latching onto your arm, pulling you to the infirmary. You told them over and over again, that it was not their fault, but you knew your friends. They were always worried. That's what friends are there for after all, you thought to yourself, as the nurse inspected your wounds.

Fortunately they weren't that serious. You just had a laceration on your head from a pretty nasty fight with a Doc Ock variant and some scrapes and bruises here and there from the day of running around random universes.

"We're really sorry, Y/N", Gwen mumbled and petted your shoulder, as your wound was being cleaned.

"It alright, Gwen. Don't worry, you guys", you smiled and nudged Pav slightly. The boy was sitting next to you, leaning his head against your shoulder. He was yours and Hobie's best friend here by far. Sometimes it felt like you two had adopted him.

Instead of trying to talk to him, you just ruffled his hair and smiled at him. That seemed to lift his spirits at least a little bit.

"Should we take you home?", he offered, as you were finally dismissed, a bandage adorning your head now.

"Nah, I'm staying over at Hobie's tonight, so don't worry.", you smiled, promising the two of them that you were fine.

You were about to say your goodbyes as you saw the pained look on Gwen's face. It took you a minute, but then you realized that she probably didn't have anywhere to stay for the night. She couldn't return to her universe and she didn't want to disturb you and Hobie.

"Hey Gwen", You said and as you hugged her, you pushed the keys for your apartment into her hands, "You can crash at mine today, if you want."

She smiled thankfully and hugged you once more, much tighter this time.

"Thanks", she mumbled into your shoulder.

You only petted her back:"Of course. Oh and, leftovers are in the refrigerator if you get hungry."

"I really appreciate it, Y/N", Gwen said once more before finally opening a portal to your world and stepping through it, waving one last time at you and Pav before she finally disappeared.

"And you're sure, you'll be fine?", Pav asked, as you hugged him now too.

You only chuckled:"I'm fine, don't worry."

He nodded understandingly:"Say hy to Hobie from me."

"Will do", you laughed and waved at him as he left to his world.

You Were alone now. The HQ was pretty much empty at this time of the day. The only light you could still see came from Miguel's office. He practically never left. You debated for a second, if you should go to him and thank him again, but you decided against it. Your aching muscles screaming for a bed.

Finally pulling your eyes of off Miguels office, you looked at your watch and hoped that it wouldn't malfunction again. You cautiously tapped in the code for Hobie's universe and after a few seconds, a portal opened in front of you.

"Here goes nothing", you mumbled to yourself, pulling your mask back over your head and stepping through the portal.

You didn't even realized that you had closed your eyes, until you opened them again. Much to your liking, you were greeted by the familiar city of London, adorned by various street arts, you had grown to love over the months.

You breathed in the cold night air, as you made your way through the city, swinging from building to building. You heard the sirens of the police and thought about stepping in whatever fight was going on, but for once in your life, you just wanted to get home.

After a couple of minutes of more swinging around, you finally reached Hobie's apartment. And in typical Spidey Manner, you entered through his bedroom window. His room was shrouded in darkness , but you could see light coming from the bathroom.

"Hobie!?", you called out for him, as you stumbled over to his bed, flopping down shamelessly.

"Babe?", you saw his head peeking out from the bathroom, a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth. As soon as he saw you, he discarded it and made his way over to you.

"Are you alright? Are you hurt?", he asked, seemingly worried, "Gwen told me about what happened but I couldn't come help you, I was on a mission with Peter B."

You finally sat up, pulling your mask down, but before Hobie could panic about the bandage on your forehead, you assured him, that it was fine.

"Don't worry", you mumbled, "I'm fine, just tired."

"C'mon", he smiled and nudged your shoulder, as he stood up again. You slowly followed him to the bathroom.

You squinted your eyes at the bright light, leaning your head against Hobie's shoulder.

"Pav says hy", you mumbled, as he helped you peel out of your suit.

Hobie chuckled, knowing that your friend would've found a way to greet him, even if they didn't see each other today.

"Of course, he did", Hobie grinned, as you had finally made it out of your suit.

"Wanna take a shower?", he asked.

"You joining me?", you smirked, a bit of your cheekiness returning now that you were reunited with your boyfriend.

"If you ask like that, my love", Hobie smiled, turning the shower on and discarding his t-shirt and sweats on the floor. You watched as he stopped under the steaming water, letting it run over his head with a sigh.

It didn't take you long to join him. You leaned into him, as the water ran down your body.

"Your bandage", Hobie smiled, pointing at the soaked gauze on your head.

"Can probably take it off now anyway", you muttered.

"Here, Let me-", Hobie mumbled, carefully taking it off for you and throwing it out of the shower, perfectly hitting the trash can thanks to his spider senses.

"Thanks", you mumbled, lifting your arms around his neck. You softly kissed him on the cheek, feeling Hobie's hands rise to rest on your waist.

"I missed you today", Hobie mumbled, as he rested his chin on top of your head, starting to slowly sway to a non existent tune.

"Missed you too", you agreed, burying your head even deeper in his shoulder.

You heard him chuckle at your antics and he lightly pulled back to look at you. You had barely time to say anything, as he leaned down to plant a soft kiss on your lips. You sighed contently. Finally feeling his lips on yours again, made the whole day suddenly seem worth it.

Almost out of breath, you finally parted. You only looked up at Hobie and smiled. He had a dreamy expression on his face. Like he was in heaven. Something that you rarely saw.

"Let's go to sleep", you said, pecking his lips one more time, before turning the shower off and stepping out.

You almost instantly felt a shiver run down your neck at the cold air, but Hobie came to safe you, wrapping a towel around you from behind.

"Thanks", you smiled, drying yourself.

After finishing your evening routine and getting into comfortable clothes, Hobie had of course given you some of his, you finally found yourself in his bed, snuggling up to each other. Both of your suits Were discarded on the floor, Hobie's guitar was standing at the other end of the room and for once in a while, you felt like a normal human being.

"I love you", you mumbled into Hobie's chest, as he hugged you tightly.

"Love ya too, Hun", Hobie smiled and softly kissed the top of your head, "Now sleep, you deserve it."

You wanted to complain, but your tired eyes voted against it, so you only got comfortable, pulling Hobie even closer to you and it didn't take you long before you drifted off into a peaceful slumber, Hobie not taking long before doing the same.

Bonus:

As you woke up, you were confused, as to why you didn't find Hobie next to you. It took you a few minutes, for your body to completely wake up, before you realized that you were laying on the floor. You sat up, looking around confused. You couldn't help but giggle, as you spotted the culprit, who had pushed you off of the bed.

You saw Hobie laying in the bed, his arms and legs spread out like he was a seastar, snoring softly. His pillow was laying next to you on the floor, the blanket barely covering him still.

With a small grunt, you pushed yourself up, but instead of going to the couch in the living room or starting to make breakfast, you simply laid down on top of Hobie. He shuffled for a second, but eventually pulled your body closer. You nuzzled your head back into his shoulder, enjoying the slow morning with your boyfriend.

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thetempleofthemasaigoddess · 5 months

Text

How I long for the time, when your lips would kiss mine

Mihawk x reader.

Title is an excerpt from Blind and Frozen by Beast in Black (again).

This brief fic is the conclusion of a story that started with Built a haven for your love (until I let you fall apart) and continued with (and if nothing brings you back) Surely, I'll roam through life in black.

*****

Three months later.

You smile, more satisfied than greedy, as Vice-Admiral Garp slids a parcel across his desk, close enough to let you take it.

"Thirteen million berries, including the bounty you were owed since last year." he explains as you lift the parcel to stash it in your satchel, without bothering to open it to count the bills neatly stacked inside: you know you can trust the Navy - regarding the money you are due even if not about everything else "Don't take it the wrong way, (name), but I was surprised you had decided to take on this assignment: it is quite a bit below your usual level."

"I am aware. I have been... in poor health, which is why you haven't seen me in a while, and I wanted something simple to make sure I had gotten back to full fitness. From now on I'll be only taking on level three bounties, as usual."

Garp nods, promising to call you when your services will be required. "Got plans for tonight?" he idly adds, leaning back in his chair as he observes you rising from yours.

"I am flattered, Vice-Admiral, but I never mix business and pleasure."

"That was not what I meant. I was simply wondering if there was a reason why a certain man who never spends a minute more than he has to here at our HQ has been sitting in the waiting room for almost two hours twiddling his thumbs."

The mental image makes a smile blossom on your lips; you don't bother trying to deny it, since it would be clearly pointless. "Figuratively, I imagine."

"Probably. Still..."

"Still, thank you for your time. I'll see you soon, Vice-Admiral."

Garp laughs; he seems to find the whole matter highly amusing, which means it is probably a good thing he is discussing it with you and not with the other interested party.

"He was very worried about you; I could feel it in his voice." he suddenly adds, almost as an afterthought.

Mihawk is alone in the room most of your (less memorable, but still dear to your heart) meetings have taken place in, an half-empty glass of red wine in front of him. He is perfectly still, sitting and apparently lost in his thoughts, but the moment you appear at the door he turns to look at you, relief evident in his gaze... or maybe, just maybe, it is you who are able to perceive it.

A simple, inscrutable smile is the only answer he receives, and a moment later you have left his office and are walking down the corridor toward the room Garp mentioned.

"Hello."

He reaches you at the door a moment later, Yoru hanging from on his shoulders, and for a moment you remain face to face, silent as you simply relish being in each other's presence once more. His hand brushes against yours; holding back from hugging him is the hardest thing you have ever had to do.

You happily follow him when Mihawk suggests you go outside to talk, but once you have reached the plaza facing the Marine HQ neither feels the need to actually speak; night is falling, a beautiful sunset painting the sky of a hundred shades of red.

"Has your leg healed?" he asks after a while, as you unhurriedly walk down the pier, the salt-laden air making you feel at home; after all, you were born on an island.

"Perfectly, thank all the Gods. And I took down the pirate i was sent to kill in two days, which means I haven't gotten rusty despite fifteen months of indolence." you happily inform him "I have started with something easy, so as not to overexert myself, but I am tired of sitting around doing nothing; I am ready to get back to business."

"That is good to hear."

You smile, finally taking his hand. "I have missed you." you murmur; it is easy, even pleasant, to utter those words, because no matter how usually strict Mihawk is in judging others, you know you don't need to hide from him, not even the most fragile, most painful part of you "I am so sorry I never called or wrote, I... I needed to be alone. To come to terms with what I had discovered."

"I know, (name). I am not crossed, and..."

"And?"

He sighs; for a moment you simply know he wants to ask whether those three months actually helped, if your heart healed along with your leg or the pain of knowing you will never be a mother, never raise the children you have wanted for nine years, is still part of you, slowly gnawing at your heart like waves gradually wearing away the sturdiest rock. If he did, you are not sure what answer you would give, because you don't have one for yourself. Rationally, you know the passing of time will help, at least a little, and since you have always thought suicide is not the answer you can't help moving on, or at least going on, by inertia if nothing else, and the occasional moment, hour, or even day, of sadness and complete despair doesn't prevent you from cherishing the small and great joys life still throws your way, from the gentle, protective hug of your mother to the pleasure of seeing your bullet, shot from half a mile away, hit the bullseye in the middle of the target's skull... to being finally back in the presence of the man you have never stopped thinking about, even though you had forbidden yourself from using him as an incentive to get back to what you had been. You don't want to be the sort of person who needs her loved one's affection to carry on; you want to be better than that, for yourself first of all and for him as well.

"It is good to see you." Mihawk says after a while; he can't read your mind (or at least, you have no reason to suspect he can; on the other hand, you wouldn't be too surprised...) but you could swear he knows what you are thinking, what you are feeling, or maybe he simply has the gift to say what the person in front of him needs to hear "I have missed you. Again."

"I'm sorry..."

"You don't need to apologize. I just meant..."

"I know, Mihawk. And... I feel the same."

Silence falls between the two of you, and while it is not uncomfortable or tense, as usual when you are with Mihawk, you perceive you can't simply enjoy it as you let time pass you by. You have already wasted so much of it, fifteen months after your first night together (a night thinking back to which makes you still shiver in such a pleasant way; a night that was the beginning of something marvelous, even if not what you hoped) and three after you had quietly confessed to each other you both wanted to be more than simple acquaintances and drinking buddies. You are still young, and rushing things rarely helps, at least when feelings are concerned; but as you said, you have been idle for so long, and you want, you need, to regain control of your life.

"A new restaurant has just opened not far from here; it is pretty good, I am told." you mention after a moment, suddenly thinking back to Garp's conjectures "Would you let me buy you dinner?"

Mihawk grimaces. "I'd be more than happy to dine with you, but you have to let me take the bill."

"I have earned thirteen million berries twenty minutes ago. I think I can afford a dinner for two." you point out, relieved that scowl was not due to the prospect of spending the evening with you.

"That changes nothing. I would have imagined a noblewoman would have been keen on respecting traditions."

You smile; Gods, you are so happy to see him your heart is singing. "Then..." you begin, lowering your voice to an intimate murmur as you take both of his hands in yours, the distance between your bodies reduced to a breath "What if I let you pay for the dinner, and then I take care of dessert? In my inn room?"

Mihawk sighs, his usual serious demeanor betraying his actual feelings: amusement, and relief, and desire. "I suppose an after-dinner drink wouldn't hurt."

"Great."

He kisses you - on the forehead, since you're still in public; when you raise your eyes to his, you can see him smile. "Let's go, then."

The descending night hides you in its dark mantle as you set off along the pier, your fingers still interwined.

#One Piece #One Piece Live Action #OPLA #Dracule Mihawk #Mihawk #Dracule Mihawk x reader #Mihawk x reader #Steven John Ward #Bellona's stuff

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ladystardust-thinks · 9 months

Text

high-achiever - e.u.

Request by: @stilessbaseballbat

Hello! Can I request an imagine with Eggsy where him and the reader are appointed to train the newbies, but they become too competitive and split the group in two - One is Eggsys group and the two the readers. They make a bed which group will pass the Kingsman training? (you can choose who wins and what the loser is going to have to do)

Eggsy Unwin x Fem!Reader

A/N: It hasn't been long since I got that request. Sure. I totally didn't have it in my wips since forever. Anyway, I feel a little boring because of the choice I made on who wins but eh it's okay. It was like 4am. I'm proud of the OCs though 'cause I think they're pretty lovable. (aka I love them and they're my pretty little babies so you also have to love them, no pressure.)

Any feedback, is good feedback!! Correct me on anything you think is wrong.

word count: 2.1k

Tags/Warnings: She/Her pronouns!!, Jealous Reader if you squint really hard, kinda ooc eggsy?, OC x OC, reader is an overachiever, bad writing? English is not my first language, I learned it entirely out of social media, mention of a dog being shot (but not really), mention of reader having a dog (again, only if you squint.), Use of Y/N

"Gawain! Get up!" Eggsy's voice echoes loudly through the woman's house as he swings all the curtains wide open. She winces at the sudden light and curses the boy through her teeth.

"Y'know Galahad, I have heard rumours about people saying good morning as a greeting. Also that is a total violation of privacy. Do you know that? It's important to me that you know that." The girl whines shoving her tired body towards the kitchen, pouring coffee in a mug.

"Good morning, Gawain." Eggsy pauses. "Alright, now, the trainees list just came in and Merlin told me we are to train them. So take a look at it." He pushes the papers towards her and she takes a sip from her coffee, not making an attempt to take the papers. She looks up at Eggsy like he had killed her whole family.

"Why are you all that excited?" She asks rhetorically, not waiting for an answer. "Well, first of all I've been there and it's interesting to see newbies in my position and second of all it's going to be something to add to my successes. I'm high already but I am aiming higher."

He answers in a matter-of-factly tone and sits opposite to the girl. "What makes you think you are going to be all that good at it. I mean I am going to be there sure but-" She was rudely cut off.

"Are you implying you are better than me, Gawain?" The agent says slowly with a smile forming on his face.

"I wasn't implying anything, actually. I thought that was obvious. But before you rudely cut me off and-" She grunts in annoyance. Yet again being interrupted. She didn't like being interrupted.

"Then we can put it to the test. Drink your coffee and get dressed we are going to HQ." He states and starts wandering around the house, almost too comfortable, opening her closet and pulling out her suit, throwing it on her bed.

"You're doing it, again! I don't really appreciate that! And how did you even get inside my house? I never gave you a key. The door was locked, the lock isn't broken. What the bloody hell! You can't just sneak in like that." The woman complains kicking Eggsy out of her room as she starts to change her clothes. "We are Kingsmen, Gawain. Nothing is ever locked." She heard him say behind the door.

***

The newbies were in their cabin and they looked terrified in this sort of fun way. Y/N couldn't help but wonder if she also looked that terrified her first day at HQ. No. She thought. She was too confident. Her friends and family were sure, that was going to be the death of her. She was always sure of herself. Always. She had always been competitive.

Her parents still teased about stuff she'd do when she was little, like crying when she'd land on someone else's property while playing Monopoly.

They didn't even pressure her into all of those academic successes, she just did it.

The competitive part of her - if not her only part - is also what brought her where she is, doing something that Merlin, probably, wouldn't really like. But just like there wasn't one bone in her body that wasn't competitive, there also wasn't one that wasn't a winner.

***

"Do we get to choose who's in our team?" She found herself whispering at Eggsy while the newbies conversed with one another. "If you have your eye on someone that you think would make it easier, then no." He answers nonchalantly.

"Damn it." She swears under her breath, disappointed. "But we could choose eachothers teams. Like I choose yours, you choose mine." He murmurs.

"Okay. Then I'm giving you Marie." She says checking the document in her hand to make sure she got the name right. "Why Marie?" Eggsy asks, genuinely curious. "I don't know she seems annoying, she'd talk your ear of and get you distracted."

"Oh. Well that's good, because I actually think she's quite-"

"Then no." She changes her mind and shakes her head, her eyes still at the trainees looking over the cabin like lost puppies.

The blonde smirks, he marks his coworker's initials next to 'Marie Brown' on his own document. "Marie?" He says looking at the group of people right in front of him, searching with his eyes for the short redhead. "Yes." She speaks up. "You're with Gawain." He states.

The girl sprinted towards the, not-so-thrilled, agent excitedly. She smiled with all her teeth and squealed, standing tall, next to her.

She threw a sarcastic, tight lipped smile smile her way, then turned to look at Eggsy, the grimace never leaving her face. He just tried to hide his giggles under his breath and smiled, looking only forward because he knew if he turned to look at the woman's expression, he'd break down in laughter.

Marie grasped her mentor's shoulder proudly and Y/N's eyes widened but Eggsy's ability to hold his laugh was only getting worse. She nudged his rib with her elbow and coughed. "Okay, Elliot, with Galahad." She marked the initials G.U. on her document and let a breathy laugh out.

His eyes widened and his eyebrows went up, he turned to look at her and Elliot walked over to him. "Hello, sir." He sniffed and put his hand out for Eggsy to shake. His voice was shaky. Eggsy looked at him, then back at his sweaty hand and shook it.

Elliot let go from Eggsy's hand and wipped his hands on his uniform, fixing it and clearing his throat, as he walks next to Eggsy.

"He does realize that we are almost the same age and I am not his teacher, right?" The agent turns to Y/N and she snorts shortly. "Dont be mean," she says quietly "that's my job." She continues.

"Well, this is going to be fun." Eggsy mumbles under his breath. Suddenly regretting ever planting the idea of a bet in the girl's head.

***

"Okay, so." She clapped once to get the attention of the newbies. "The next days are going to be full of missions and tests, but you have to keep two things in mind. Always listen to your mentor and of course always look at the bigger picture. You're going to be in danger, multiple times through out this training process. If you look too closely you don't think practical, you think hypothetical. And a Kingsman doesn't have time for hypothetical."

Eggsy found himself staring at the young agent while she spoke with such loyalty and dedication. There was always this on going banter between them, about who is better at this or that, little things. But it had been amusing for him how she took everything so seriously, like she just had to win. Even if that was just an unserious game of rock-paper-scissors. He couldn't help but wonder why she was so competitive, with everyone but especially him, at most times.

That being the only trait they had in common.

How competitive they both were.

In general they we really different, she was serious most of the time and she always went by the rules, more logical than emotional, she'd always follow a good piece of advice. Eggsy was a free-er soul, he is emotional, he gets attached really easily. A smart-ass if she's ever met one. And he had this weird hero complex she could never understand, this 'I'm saving the world.' kind of attitude. She wanted to wipe that smirk of his face, bring him down to earth, shout 'We're all saving the world here!' at him.

***

"Hello there." Agent Gawain told the newbies, wet like cats, seeming miserable.

"What the hell was that?!" Hayley whined, a trainee from Eggsy's team. "That was your first quest, and if it was hot in here you'd be thanking us now." He answered the blonde girl's question.

"What was surprising, something that has never happened before, was that all of you failed. We had to drain the water so you don't drown." Y/N told her trainees. They all looked at eachother awkwardly, ashamed, as the experienced agent put her hands over her chest disappointed.

"Are you kidding me? We almost died for your stupid training and we get scolded like we're little children? I am not dealing with this crap." She got her luggage from under her bed and pushed through Galahad and Gawain so she can leave. Eggsy grimaced, his nose scrunching and his eyes squeezing shut. "She left." He heard a familiar whisper from next to him. "I know." He said. "Okay. Hopefully by the next mission we won't have anyone storming off." He turned to the rest of the group.

***

It had now came down to the final choice. The two final trainees for the decision to be made were, ironically enough, Elliot and Marie.

The trainees were both at different rooms, one across from another. Agents Gawain and Galahad were both leaning on different walls, one across from another.

Both waiting nervously to hear the gunshot from their trainee's gun. The woman made a clicking noise with her tounge as the man constantly tapped his foot against the metal floor. "Nervous, Galahad?" The agent asks the blonde. "Never, Gawain." He answers.

Gunshots are heard from both rooms and the agents let out a breath they didn't know they had been holding, realisation came to them immediately and they locked in eachother's eyes. "Does this mean...?" Eggsy started. "I think so? It hasn't happened to me before." Y/N says confused and both Elliot and Marie come out of the rooms.

"I almost shot my Barney..." Marie says to her mentor with wide eyes, holding her dog close to her chest. "Yup I know, he's alright, Mar." Agent Gawain hugs her trainee, remembering how it felt to even think of shooting Stevie when she went through her own training.

"I- Me too." Elliot says, still shocked. She sees Eggsy over Marie's shoulder, as he sighs, grimacing yet again, questioning and giving two hesitant pats on Elliot's back she couldn't describe as confrontational. She laughs on Marie's shoulder and Eggsy rolls his eyes at her.

"Okay. I mean. Good news is...you're both Kingsmen now. And you have your dogs!"

Y/N says letting Marie go.

"Congratulations on your dedication."

Marie and Elliot start talking and Eggsy discreetly takes his coworker away.

"So it's tie?" He whispers.

"I guess so." She shrugs.

She looks back at Marie and Elliot. Elliot awkwardly laughs as he makes a depressing attempt to touch Marie's arm and she giggles putting some of her hair behind her ear.

"Well that's akward." She says and Eggsy follows her eyes and also looks at the, now, young Kingsmen.

"Let the kids be. They're living their love."

"You're making me have a mid-life crisis before my time, we're like two years older than them."

Eggsy sighs theatrically. "Yes, but they feel like my kids already. Look at them opening their wings."

Gawain rolls her eyes.

"Must be sad for you. Now you can't make a move on Marie." She says sarcastically.

"I just said that so you wouldn't put her on my team. Marie's not really my type."

"What's your type then?"

"I don't know. Witty, smart, boring agents that can't bare losing?"

"Sounds very specific for the sake of 'not knowing'."

"Familiar too doesn't it?" A proud smile plays around Eggsy's lips as he is staring at her.

"Yeah, it does. Thank god my type is annoying, funny, immature agents that I just can't get off my back." She grins.

"I'm pretty hard to get rid of. Would you break a rule, Gawain?"

"Only if I am to break it with such good company, Galahad."

I would love to read your thoughts, i hope you enjoyed the story. Have a gorgeous day. Mwah!

-Shad

#Eggsy x Reader #Eggsy Unwin x reader #Eggsy x Fem!reader #eggsy unwin #eggsy unwin x fem!reader #eggsy unwin x reader #kingsman #kingsman the secret service #taron egerton #taron egerton x reader

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ohmyeyesmyeyes · 1 year

Text

social media shy

f!potterer!reader x quinn hughes

warnings: swearing

(sidenote: qhuggyhes is quinn's private account - only mentioned once)

liked by analuisacorrigan and 25,145 others

ynofficial: holy mac'n' cheeseballs i'm gonna be in vogue

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fan1: *takes deep breath* I'M SO PROUD OF YOU

fan2: no more gatekeeping, only girlbossing

fan3: we must gatekeep her from the stinky men though

fan4: you're so beautiful

fan5: i actually can't wait

liked by jackhughes and 34,136 others

ynofficial: can someone get me a cat? i'm in desperate need of a housemate that purrs when cuddled. a cat would also keep me company in this big apartment

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fan6: my grandma's cat just had kittens and she's in vancouver if you're interested?

ynofficial: ooh yes please!

fan7: what's wrong with your current housemate?

ynofficial: he smiles and falls asleep on me and leaves vancouver for work often :/

fan8: what's wrong with a smile?

ynofficial: it makes me like him even more that's what's wrong

liked by _quinnhughes

qhuggyhes: please don't play the guilt card i WILL fold

liked by ynofficial

fan9: repping lana as we should

ynofficial: the one and only

liked by drewstarkey and 33,197 others

ynofficial: meet harley!! she's so adorable i just want to cry...also she's an incredibly annoying bedmate at times (but she's cute so i'll let her off)

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fan10: you're a crazy cat lady now, welcome to the club

ynofficial: i'm honoured

fan11: i'm assuming harley is the cat?

ynofficial: your assumption would be correct yes

trevorzegras: and harley is YOUR cat?

ynofficial: stfu yes

jackhughes: i see what you did there. clever.

ynofficial: idk what you're talking about

fan12: why the sudden influx of nhl players?

fan13: i don't even know who any of them are

ynofficial: neither do i

liked by lhughes_06 and 42,192 others

ynofficial: i want you to know i take being a cat mother very seriously and that i'm going to start referring to home as HQ for personal reasons

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lhughes_06: HQ being harley and...

ynofficial: you used to my favourite

lhughes_06: what am i now?

ynofficial: on thin ice

fan14: pretty sure luke hughes has a brother called quinn

fan15: yeah he does

fan16: quinn is in the second photo and i think the last?

fan17: wait does hq = harley/quinn????

_quinnhughes has added to their story

liked by analuisacorrigan, zoeydeutch and 53,971 others

ynofficial: new 'dainty florals' set on the market!

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fan18: are you on the market too?

fan19: LMAO no

fan20: i'm analysing her hands now

fan21: POV you're here bc of that twitter thread

fan22: me

fan23: the moon mug is giving fairy garden and i love it

liked by ynofficial

liked by lhughes_06, bradytkachuk and 78,182 others

_quinnhughes: been busy lately

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fan24: babe we all know *wink wink*

fan25: that's definitely y/n

fan26: quinn rn: sorry i haven't been posting i've been having a lot of sex

fan28: everyone knows

jackhughes: and i'm still patiently waiting

liked by _quinnhughes, _eliaspettersson and 61,513 others

ynofficial: congrats on your-

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fan29: -record breaking of 263 games to assist 200 times?

liked by ynofficial

jackhughes: 🐔

ynofficial: bet

fan30: even the fucking cake is canucks themed

lhughes_06: if you don't i will

ynofficial: it's cute you think i'll let myself be blackmailed

fan31: it's impossible for it not to be quinn at this point

liked by ynofficial, trevorzegras and 71,480 others

_quinnhughes: i was told to say 'alexa play cornelia street' as a caption

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bradytkachuk: you're so whipped

liked by _quinnhughes

fan32: this is literally the same place y/n posted in her last post

jackhughes: TAG HER

fan33: jack losing his patience is all of us rn

_quinnhughes went live 3 minutes ago!

liked by ynofficial, _quinnhughes and 89,134 others

jackhughes: because these two IDIOTS are refusing to actually do anything about it, i'm taking the matter into my own hands for my and your mental health. this is ynofficial and _quinnhughes and they are 100% dating and 1000% in love to the point where it actually melts me. thank you and good night

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lhughes_06: i didn't think you'd ACTUALLY do it

jackhughes: do not underestimate me

_quinnhughes: and then you wonder why luke is y/n's favourite

fan34: WE THANK YOU FOR YOUR SERVICE!!!!

liked by jackhughes

ynofficial: i hate you

jackhughes: you wish you did 😘😘

fan35: i love how y/n and quinn are so private that the only way their relationship would ever get exposed is if someone did it for them

fan36: fr they fit each other so well

fan37: THEY! ARE! PARENTS!

fan38: omg y/n has a harley and a quinn in her life

fan39: HQ makes sense now

#quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagine #nhl social media au #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey fic #hockey imagine

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tainted-liquor · 8 months

Text

'Baby Mama.˚ *꒰ঌ✦໒꒱ * ˚.

Father!Hobie Brown x Mama!BlackFem!Reader Ingredients: Extra sugar, kisses, and tons of smiles! TWs: Dumb dad Hobie, cussing, thas it W/C: 891 A/N: You have a son🥺

It had been about 3 months since you and Hobie welcomed a tiny bundle of blue into the world. To say he was head over heels was an understatement; he was enamored. There were a couple of times where he popped a nigga with the force of a bullet train in the name of your son, Renzo, for various reasons. He popped Miles for "holding him the wrong way", judo-flipped Pav for attempting to hold the baby's hand, and absolutely smashed Miguel for even breathing too hard at his son during his nap time. He was the most adoring and doting father you had ever seen before Lil Renzie could even open his eyes.

Initially, Renzo wasn't a planned baby, as fucked up as that sounds. Hobie didn't quite believe in bringing another life form into an economy that was falling apart at every turn, rendering it impossible to live without relying on some sort of capitalist company. But by no means take this as a hint that he was in ANY capacity a deadbeat, absolutely not. He hated the idea of bringing a child into a world of pure evil but hated the idea of abandoning a human being somewhere out in the world even more and leaving all the responsibility on his mother. If the kid is his, IT'S HIS. So when he got the call that you were in labor, he dropped whatever it was he was doing.

"Yeah love, y'alright?" He cooed almost as soon as he answered the loud ringtone of his 1000 BCE phone. "Hey, so I don't wanna worry you or anything, but my water broke n' we're on our way to the...Hello?" You pulled your phone to your face to look at the screen, only to see that Hobie had hung up. You thought that maybe the call dropped and he was out on a mission, but no; Hobie was rapidly approaching your location from his watch, heaving and panting as he practically flung himself out of HQ. It took him a total of 2 minutes to seemingly appear by your side. "I'M 'ERE! IM 'ERE WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENIN'-" He yelled in the middle of the hospital. From that point forward, everything was chaos.

It took several midwives and you to calm him down, and 9 doctors to wrestle him out of the delivery room when it came time for you to push. Best believe he was still there every step of the way, despite the plethora of faculty asking for him to leave the room. At the end of the day, nobody wanted beef with the 6 foot 5 tall ass punk man with the meanest resting bitch face of all time, so they miraculously left him alone and let him be present for the entire birth. And when your son was finally born, he started baby bawling right along with him. Yes, he was crying as loud as humanly possible.

"Here, sweets you hold him-...are you crying?"

"No." He muttered with his eyes literally full of tears.

From that day forward, all he ever did was spend time with his son. Whenever he went to HQ he would insist on keeping Renzo so you could "get some rest", sticking him to his back as he did idle tasks, getting into nonsensical babble wars, and helping him learn how to stick to walls. Whenever he was allowed to dress up Renzo, he had the little homie dressed down in spikes, black leather, and a mini version of whatever outfit he had on without fail. He even made him a mini version of his guitar out of some plywood, rubber bands, and spare metal. There were times when Hobie would help Renzo "play" his fake guitar, muttering some of his song lyrics in the process.

You woke up from your cat nap to hear giggles coming from Hobie and Renzo in the living room. You shuffled your way out of your bedroom to see what was happening, and instantly covered your mouth so they wouldn't realize you were there just yet. Hobie stood in the middle of the living room, arms crossed, and staring at the tiny baby on the couch. "Ah-! Don't laugh at me, young man. You need to start learning how to be a proper Spider-Man!" he 'argues' as he holds back giggles. Renzo offers him a sleepy blink and yet another fit of laughter as he falls over on his side. You silently emerge from the doorframe, picking up your son and holding him near Hobie's face.

"C'monn, he's only a baby! Tell daddy I don't need to be a Spider-man just yet" you coached with a kiss to the side of the baby face. "I need to focus on being mommy's baby!" you giggled. "Ahh, c'mon. He should be able to stick to walls already, yeah?" He snickered. You rolled your eyes as you watched Renzo practically jump from your hands to Hobie's, earning a loud laugh from your 'husband.' "See? Proper Spider-Man! Yeah, mate!" he chuckled as he held a squirming Renzo. He watched as his tiny feet kicked and danced in his red and blue "Spider-Punk" onesie Hobie knicked from his world. You watched as his small grin turned into a full grin and his waterline pricked with tears.

"Don't cry, Hobie."

"'m not."

#atsv #across the spiderverse #into the spiderverse #hobie brown #hobie brown x reader #spiderman #spider punk #into the spider verse #spiderparents #hobie x reader #atsv hobie #hobart brown x reader

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