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#still don’t know if it’s any good but hey. it’s something. i’ll take it.
lnlightning81 · 3 days
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Panic - Part Four
Series Title : Younger Sister
Summary : Carlos is out ill and while Lando worries about him Ollie appears at your hotel room stressing because he now has to race
Pairing/s : Oliver Bearman x Norris!Reader
Word Count : 2.1k
Masterlist
Series Masterlist
Oliver Bearman Masterlist
Lando Norris Masterlist
Previous
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It had been a couple of months since the British Grand Prix, and it was now the Hungary Grand Prix. Staying in a hotel room with Lando had become normal, and you stopped bothering about it because, actually, it was nice. Having someone to talk to at all times but also knew that quiet was a good thing. Not only that, but both you and Lando had the same energy levels, which meant there was always something chaotic going on in that room. 
Lando had left a little early so that he could go to the gym before coming back to get you before finally going to the paddock so you were sat scrolling on social media waiting for Lando to get back when there was a knock on the door making you wander over to it as whoever was waiting on the other side kept knocking. Looking through the peephole, Ollie was standing on the other side, so obviously, you opened the door 
“Ollie are you okay?” You asked, looking him up and down for any visible injuries as he walked past you into the hotel room, obviously finding it extremely hard to stay still 
“My parents' flight is delayed. I flew out with Ferrari cause I can but it’s delayed and I’m racing and there’s no one in the garage for me and I don’t know what to do cause its my first ever F1 race and I’ve only ever done practice and help” He rushed out and you looked at him taking everything in that he’d previously just flew at you
“Y/N say something” He whispered, rubbing his face as he paced the room 
“Your parent’s flights are delayed, well that’s okay cause they’ll be here. Flights get delayed all the time. You race all the time without your parents there you qualified on pole yesterday” You rubbed his arm, looking up at him. Why did he have to be so tall? It made comforting him so much harder. 
“Yeah but that’s F2 Y/N. This is F1” He whispered, and you looked up at him 
“Wait what? You’re racing in Formula One?” You exclaimed, taking a step back as he nodded “Okay well today's practice and quali. Wait who’s out?” You asked, confused 
“Carlos. Something about his appendix. He hadn’t been well all week” He explained, and you nodded
“I’ve never raced in his car, and I’ve never raced with his wheel, and I don’t know what to do Y/N” He whispered, and you wrapped your arms around him 
“Well lucky for you, my brother just so happens to be a Formula One driver on the weekends” you joked, and he laughed. You smiled up at him.
“I’ll come stand in the Ferrari garage, Ollie. Please don’t worry about it. The more you worry about it, the more you stress, which leads to bad racing and crashes. Ollie, they have so many drivers they could have put you in that seat, but they picked you, which means they trust you, so you need to enjoy the fact that you’re racing in Formula One!” You smiled, and he nodded 
“I’m racing in Formula One” He mumbled and you smiled watching him now enjoy the fact that he’s actually racing and he’s reached his dream even if it’s not the way he wanted to. Ollie hugged you back with a smile 
“What’s going on here?” Lando’s voice came as you turned to look at him 
“Ollie’s racing in Formula One” you cheered, bouncing over to Lando, who caught you very much used to the energy you have 
“Hey, that's a great man. You’ll do great, just remember to breathe because I forgot to do that the first time” Lando chuckled, placing you back on the ground 
“I’m gonna go shower, then we can get to the paddock” Lando walked into the bathroom, and you hugged Ollie again 
“You should go get ready for the day, but if you want me there, then just give me a text, okay?” You smiled, and he nodded 
“Thank you for that. I needed someone to rationalise my thoughts” You nodded, holding his hand 
“Don’t worry about it. If you’ve not already had a shower today, then go take a nice cold one, drink a bottle of water, and remember to enjoy yourself” You smiled, and he nodded, walking over to the door. You followed behind him with a smile 
“You’re great at the calming down thing” He smiled, and you chuckled 
“I do my best” Ollie walked back to his hotel room as you sat on the bed on your phone, going back to waiting on Lando. When Lando finally walked out the bathroom dressed in his Mclaren uniform, you jumped over to him with a smile  
“You’re so happy today? What have I missed?” He asked, confused 
“Can’t I be happy?” You asked following him out of the hotel room 
“You’re normally hyper, but you seem more hyper than normal” he shrugged 
“Maybe I’m a little happy that Ollie is racing today” You shrugged 
“You like him” He teased poking you in the side
“He’s just a friend” You shrugged
“We’re the same age it’s nice to hang out with someone my own age while following you about the world” 
“Mhm whatever you say. I like him, by the way” He shrugged, pressing the button in the elevator, leaning against the bannister in the elevator as it moved 
“I’m glad you like him” You rolled your eyes, stepping out the elevator and following him out to the Mclaren car awaiting his arrival. Oscar already sat inside, waiting for you both. Getting in the car, Lando forced you to sit in the middle of them, so with a huff, you complied. 
“Y/N has a boyfriend” Lando hummed, wiggling his eyebrows 
“He’s not my boyfriend. We’re just friends” you whined, shoving him away 
“Ohh who?” Oscar asked 
“Ollie. He showed up at our room this morning” Lando hummed 
“He showed up because his parents were in England, and Ferrari just called him up” You rolled your eyes 
“Wait, who's not racing, by the way?” Lando asked 
“Carlos. Something to do with his appendix” you shrugged, and Lando instantly pulled his phone out of his pocket, panicking.
“Oh forgot about your boyfriend” You rolled his eyes, and he ignored your comment as Oscar laughed. 
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Standing in the Ferrari garage felt wrong. Surrounded by red instead of papaya, but it was for Ollie, who was pacing about the place stressed before FP3. Everyone’s eyes were on him after the announcement that he was now driving. Ollie had taken to pacing three small steps slightly in front of you as he spoke to some members of the team. 
Walking over to him gently wrapping your arms around his waist as your cheek rested against his back he tensed up for a second before his hands rested on top of yours and he relaxed now standing in the one place as he spoke to the team member causing you to smile that he was no longer burning a hole in the floor. 
You missed the cameras outside as you kept your arms around Ollie’s waist, but you certainly didn’t miss your phone exploding in your pocket. Charles smiled at you as he walked past back to his driver's room. 
“Hey why don’t you go into the drivers room and relax Ollie” one of the trainers said, joining the small group as Ollie nodded, taking you to the drivers room with him. Sitting on the small beanbag, you smiled at him. 
“You didn’t have to do that” He sat next to you, and you shrugged 
“You were burning a hole in the floor, and I know that you don’t make enough to pay for that” you joked, and he chuckled. 
“Thank you, though. I’m so stressed about today” You smiled softly, turning to him 
“I’ll make a deal with you” you hummed, and he nodded 
“Okay?” He frowned 
“If you get P15 or above in Quali I’ll go on a date with you. If you get P10 or above in the actual race, then I’ll go on two” You hummed, and he turned to you 
“Can I change that deal?” He asked, and you nodded slightly 
“Depends on what you want to change it to” You hummed 
“P15 or above in Quali a date tonight. P10 or above in the race and you become my girlfriend” You quickly turned to look at him 
“What?” You asked, confused. It wasn’t that you didn’t find yourself attractive or other people didn't. It was just that you’d never had a proper boyfriend before. Just teenage boys who wanted to one up their friends in their relationships. 
“Well obviously if I get that high, then I’ll ask you properly and take you on that second date, but obviously, if you don’t want to agree to my deal, then that’s okay. I don’t want to pressure you into doing anything you don’t want to and I’d hate for you to feel uncomfortable while you’re here making me feel like I’ve been racing in Formula one forever” He blurted going off on whatever he was saying with. Gently placing a hand on the side of his face to pull him back into the drivers room, he looked at you. 
“Olls. Please take a deep breath with me. I’d love to agree to your deal. I just didn’t want you to feel like I was forcing you into anything and we all know that I’m not just with you for money or anything like that cause that’s what older brothers are for” You joked and he chuckled 
“Well I guess I’ll be taking you on a couple of dates then” He hummed, and you chuckled 
“Cocky much” you joked, and he smiled 
“I’ll see you after FP3, right?” He asked, and you nodded 
“Of course you will and after FP3. We’re going to get lunch together” You smiled, and he walked out of the drivers room after pressing a kiss to your head. Finally checking your phone just to see a billion texts. 
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Before you knew it, you were watching Quali, and it was the most stressful thing you’d ever watched. Not only was your older brother racing, but Ollie was doing his first ever F1 race and Quali. Ollie’s dad had arrived at the garage just as Ollie went out for Q1, so now he was standing next to you. 
David was stressing more than Ollie was this morning. Ollie got slightly close to the wall just as the cameras turned into the Ferrari garage catching David's face as it happened although you were just as stressed except you had a lot more practice at hiding it after watching races with people from school. David, on the other hand, was new to close family members racing in formula one. 
Ollie got himself through Q1 in P9 and into Q2. David walked over to Ollie’s car to say that he was here and to just focus on the race. You could see Oliver’s eyes as he pushed the visor on his helmet up. The stress that previously showed was no longer there. He looked like a kid in a sweet shop, and you couldn’t be prouder. 
Q2 started, and David took his place standing at the back next to you. The fifteen minutes of Q2 was soon over and Ollie was unfortunately knocked out in P11 but he was a few hundredths of a second away from knocking Sir Lewis Hamilton out of qualifying that was something to be proud of. 
Racing drivers had this thing where even when they drove exceptionally well they’d still beat themselves up even if there was nothing else they could have done and you knew by the look in Oliver’s eyes he was going to do exactly that except you now had practice and a deal you could cheer him up with. 
You smiled, giving Ollie a hug as he walked over after he got out of the car. He was sweaty, but it made you happy to see the happiness on his face. Like seeing Lando doing something he loved. 
“You did so well, Olls. You almost knocked Hamilton out. If you had another flying lap, you would have!” You exclaimed, and he smiled 
“You should go along to Mclaren while I do post Quali interviews. I know Lando would love to have you there, and Max is here today isn’t he?” He asked, and you nodded 
“The whole of Quadrant is here today. Something about Hungary being a good place for a new video? I don’t know. They tried to get me in it, but I refused” You chuckled, and he smiled 
“Be ready for seven?” He asked, and you nodded 
“You know where my room is” You walked along to the Mclaren garage with a smile hugging Max as you stood in hospitality with him and the rest of Quadrant. Ria smiled at you as everyone else was far too focused on Q3 that had just started.
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crybabylulu · 3 days
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Lunch time
(Sugar momma Lin Beifong x sugar baby reader)
Summary: just being a good girl and bringing Lin her lunch
I was currently in the kitchen making lunch for Lin. I decided to make a tofu stir fry and I made sure to make it a little spicy. Once I was done I went to the bedroom to get ready. I did a bit of makeup, fixed up my hair and put on a short dress. After I got dressed up I packed up and made my way to her job. Thankfully it wasn’t a long walk. I made my way inside the station. “Hey.” Mako said as he came up to me. “Hey.” I said and gave him a hug. “Chief is in a meeting.” Mako said. “When will she be done?” I asked. “Not sure but you can go up to her office and wait.” Mako said. “Ok great.” I said.
“Also what did you pack for her?” Mako asked. “I packed your mom some tofu stir fry.” I said. “Stop calling chief my mom.” Mako said. I laughed as I walked up the stairs, I entered the office and placed the lunch box down. I sat down in Lin’s chair and just spun around in it. As I spun around I started to fantasize about Lin. I bit my lip thinking about riding her in her office. I rolled my eyes at the horny thoughts that came to my brain. I could just touch myself in her office chair. No, no no! I sighed.
Actually I’ll just hold that idea for later. I’m gonna have to find an outfit, maybe I can ask Asami for some help then make sure I bring my big bag to bring the strap with me. I’ll have her catch me touching myself in her office and then I’m sure she’ll spank me and then I get to ride her cock. My legs rubbed together. Ok maybe i can touch myself now. The door opened and I turned towards the door. “What are you doing?” Lin asked. “Hostile takeover.” I said. “Very cute.” Lin laughed and closed the door then walked over to me.
I got up and moved from her chair. Lin led me over to the couch and sat me on her lap. “I missed you.” I said. “I missed you too, baby girl.” Lin said and held me close to her. “Oh lunch! I almost forgot.” I said as I quickly got off her lap to grab the food. Once grabbed I sat back down and held out the bag to her. “Thank you.” Lin said as she took it. I nodded and watched her open the food. “I tried something new, tofu stir fry.” I said. “It looks good.” Lin said. “Hope it tastes good.” I said. I watched as she took a bite and then she scooped up more food and held it out to me.
I opened my mouth and let her feed me. “This is good, you did well.” Lin complimented. “Thank you baby, I’m glad you like it.” I said. “What did you eat today?” Lin asked. Oh I’m in trouble. “Huh.” I said. “I said," What did you eat?” Lin repeated herself. “Oh I just ate some noodles.” I lied. “You know better than to lie to me.” Lin said. I sighed. “How did you expect me to eat when I had to cook for you and get all pretty?” I asked. “You need to eat, it’s important. You feed yourself first and make sure you have water.” Lin said. “I had water, just no food and I need to make sure you eat because you don’t eat.” I told her.
“I eat.” Lin said. “No you don't, you run on coffee and green tea. That’s why we agreed I would cook for you.” I said. “You still need to eat, I worry about you.” Lin said. I stroked Lin’s cheek where her scar wasn’t. Last time I touched her scar she wasn’t happy. She pulled my hand away and got snappy at me. I didn’t mean any harm. “I worry about you. You need to take better care of yourself.” I told her. “I’m fine.” Lin said. “This city can’t be safe if you aren’t ok.” I said. “I know, baby.” Lin said and gently grabbed my hand then gave it a kiss.
“We should go on vacation.” I suggested. “Vacation?” Lin asked. “Yeah, why not?” I asked. “I’ll think about it.” Lin said. I shook my head. “Whatever you say baby.” I said. Lin fed me more of her lunch. I like it when we eat together like this. It’s very sweet. “What do you want for dinner?” I asked. “I won’t be home tonight.” Lin said. “Why?” I asked. “I have a lot of paperwork to do.” Lin told me. I guess I’m gonna have to bring her dinner tonight. I just nodded. I’ll probably just actually make noodles tonight I’m not sure. When Lin finished eating we decided to make out until her break was over.
I ran my fingers through her gray hair as we made out. It felt so good to be close to her like this. When her break was over Mako walked me home and I went to crash on the bed. I took a short nap. I'm lying. It was a long nap. I woke up around six pm I had to rush to take a shower. I washed off my makeup then my body. When I finished washing up I dried off then put on Lin’s robe. I went to the kitchen and started cooking. I made enough for her and I to eat together at the station. When I finished I packed up the food then I went to get dressed.
When I was done I grabbed all my things and then made my way to Lin. It was late at night and I know Lin is gonna be pissed off that I’m walking this late but I don’t care. She needs to eat! I made it to her job and went straight to Lin’s office. I knocked on the door and waited for her response. “Come in.” Lin said. I opened the door and saw Lin doing paperwork. “What do you want?” Lin asked. She hadn’t looked up from her work to notice me. Oh I can’t help myself, I'm about to say something dumb.
“I want to gag on your cock.” I said. “Have you lo,” Lin looked up and noticed me and I laughed. “What are you doing here?” Lin asked. “I bring dinner.” I said and showed off the bag. “I appreciate you but you shouldn’t,” “I don’t care. You need to eat.” I said and sat on the couch. Lin sighed then sat next to me. I gave her a bowl then I pulled out mine. “Now let us have dinner together.” I said. We ate and talked about her long day. “I won’t be home tomorrow night either.” Lin said. “Why?” I asked. “Criminals being criminals.” Lin said.
I pouted. “Don’t pout.” Lin told me. “But I want you to come home, I’ll be so lonely without you.” I said. “I know baby but I have work to do. I’ll try to be home soon. I won't be here long.” Lin told me. I just nodded. I don’t wanna lay in bed without her. It’s childish I know but I don’t care.
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The Last Steve Harrington Part 18
AO3 / Part 1 / Part 17
Steve loved the tape. He loved it almost as much as he loved taking his car out for long drives. He didn’t go anywhere; he just rolled the windows down and turned the volume up. Sometimes he parked on the side of the road and laid down on the hood, smoking and looking at the sky, enjoying the quiet and the wind playing with his hair. Other times, he drove as fast as he could on old highway roads, when there were no other cars for miles and only Eddie’s tape for company.
The songs he chose were equal parts expected and unexpected. Steve could tell that Eddie had toned down his own tastes to pick songs that he thought Steve would enjoy. There were a few that he recognized and some that were new. He liked the first song because the lyrics reminded him of Will and Eleven.
Evil power disappears Demons worry when the wizard is near He turns tears into joy Everyone's happy when the wizard walks by
The middle of the tape got much wilder and louder and were all songs that Steve could imagine Eddie screaming and banging his head along to. One of the last songs was probably his favourite, the beat was great and he loved the vocals and lyrics. It was one that he recognized though he didn’t know if it was because Eds showed it to him or if he heard it on the radio on his own.
I've been too long, I'm glad to be back Yes, I'm let loose From the noose That's kept me hanging about I've been looking at the sky 'Cause it's gettin' me high Forget the hearse 'cause I never die
And the last song, of course, was Like a Virgin by Madonna. Steve burst out laughing when he finished the tape for the first time. He loved it. He didn’t know how Eddie managed to create a playlist that suited both of their tastes so well. As curious as he was to listen to the B side – he held off for now. When he got home, he ran for the phone, dialing Eddie’s number quickly from memory.
“Hello!”
“Like a Virgin, Munson? Really?”
Eddie’s laughter crackled through the phone and Steve’s clutched the receiver closer to his ear, as if he could prevent the sound from escaping into the air, could keep it all for himself.
“Courtesy of one Robin Buckley, my friend! Had to be included, she said.”
“I’m surprised she was able to strong arm you, especially with music. Madonna on a tape you made?” Steve tsked into the phone with fake disappointment.
“Steve, that woman is truly frightening when she sets her mind on something.”
“So, it was collaborative? And here I was giving you all the credit.”
“Oh, big word for you, Harrington. I asked for her input, she vetoed one or two of my songs… and then made me put on Madonna. Never asking her for help again,” Eddie mumbled, causing Steve to laugh.
“So,” Eddie drawled out slowly, drawing out the syllables. “You liked it?”
“I loved it! Haven’t listened to the other side yet… I’m saving it, I guess? For when I need it.”
Eddie hummed in understanding.
“Which song did you like the best?”
“It’s near the end, I’ve heard it before but don’t know the name. Back in Black?”
“No need to try and be cool, Steve. I already know your favourite is Like a Virgin.”
“Asshole,” Steve said trying to hold back more laughter, a smile very clear in his voice. “You made the tape, maybe it’s your favourite.”
Eddie gasped in outrage. “How dare you?” he asked in a scandalized tone.  “It is called Back in Black, by the way. By AC/DC.”
“Hey, why didn’t you put any –” Steve began but was cut off by Joyce.
“Steve? Is that you?” she yelled.
He held his hand over the bottom of the phone and shouted, “yeah.”
Putting the phone back up to his ear he told Eddie, “sorry, gotta go. Thanks again for the tape, I’ll see you this weekend?”
“Yup, see ya then. Next time I’ll put Madonna on the tape first so you don’t have to skip so many good songs to get to –”
Steve laughed and hung up before he could finish. He was still smiling softly to himself when Joyce walked into the kitchen.
“Who were you talking to?” she asked.
“Eddie.”
“Oh? Making more plans for the trailer?”
“Yup. And talking about music. I finally finished the tape he made me. Well, the first side anyway.”
She nodded and moved around him, going to the fridge and pulling out ingredients. She was smiling a little and Steve wondered what had put her in a good mood.
“I was thinking spaghetti tonight?” she asked. “You have to show me how to make that sauce you did last time. It was delicious.”
“Sure,” Steve said. “The secret is Heinz 57.”
Joyce popped her head out of the fridge. “The steak sauce?”
“Yup, about three tablespoons.”
“Huh, I never would have guessed,” she said and grabbed the bottle out of the fridge door, adding it to the growing pile of ingredients on the counter.
Steve went over to the sink to wash his hands before grabbing the peppers and onions. He started chopping them and didn’t notice when he started humming happily to himself.
But Joyce did.
Wednesday was a slow day at Family Video. It was just Steve running the store and he had already done all his work for the day unless someone actually came in to rent a movie. Which he highly doubted would happen at –
He glanced at the clock and groaned when he saw it was only noon. He morosely flipped through a magazine that Robin had left, feeling time drag on…
And on…
And on...
He thought about putting on a movie but couldn’t really be bothered to do it.
After what felt like an eternity later (but was probably only thirty minutes) the bell chimed over the door. Steve looked up excitedly when he saw Dustin coming in. The excitement quickly dried up however, when he saw the steely determined look on his face. He stomped over to where Steve was leaning against the counter, eyes angry and hands bawled into fists.  
“Henderson, what’s wrong?”
“You!” Dustin shouted and Steve flinched back.
“What –”
“You won’t talk to me! You avoid me, Steve! I know you do.”
He opened his mouth to deny it but stopped himself from saying the words. Dustin deserved the truth. When he had decided to talk to him at Eddie’s a few nights ago, he thought he would have more time to get his thoughts together. He should have known that Dustin would get tired of his avoidance and do something about it. He had never been the type of person to shy away from uncomfortable situations.
“You’re right,” Steve said. “I have been avoiding you.”
“Why?” Dustin asked in the heart-breaking way of a child trying to understand a fundamental law of the universe. Why would you do that? Why would you hurt me that way? Why why why?
“When you look at me, I can tell sometimes that you’re not really seeing me…” Steve said, holding Dustin’s gaze. “You’re seeing him. You all do, to some extent. Robin does a good job of hiding it but I see it when she thinks I’m not looking. I can take it with the others, I get it. But with you – it hurts more when it’s you because –” Steve cut himself off and looked away, unsure of how to continue without causing more pain. “I needed to know that you saw me, that you wanted to know me,” he finished.
“How was I supposed to get to know you? I tried to talk to you, to include you but all you did was ignore me, even when I was right beside you! I wanted to know you, Steve… but you didn’t let me.”
Steve winced, knowing that Dustin was right. He had unilaterally decided that it was impossible, that Dustin would always miss Other Steve – would always rather have Other Steve – than him. He had stayed away, kept his distance, because he was afraid that he would never measure up to the brother he had lost.
“I was the one who wouldn’t let Eleven give up, you know. She wanted to stop but I begged her to keep looking. I knew you were out there. Then we found you and you’re here… but you’re not – at least not for me,” he said dejectedly, his shoulders hunched and his face defeated.
Of course Dustin would be upset, seeing how Steve had slowly been getting closer to everyone… except him. He hadn’t meant to hurt him, but he saw that he had – deeply. He needed to fix it. He needed to fix it now. The look on his face was one that Steve never wanted to see again. That he had put it there made his chest feel tight with self-loathing.
“I’m sorry. You’re right, I didn’t let you. I kept you at arm’s length because – because I was afraid that even if you did get to know me you still wouldn’t be able to see me as separate from your Steve. Or if you did, that you’d be disappointed…that I’m not –” Steve trailed off. His inadequacies compared to Other Steve were something that he didn’t think would ever go away. The fact that he was in this universe at all was a testament to how much they loved him. How much they couldn’t let him go.
“Disappointed?” Dustin repeated, shaking his head. “I like the things that make you different. You play D&D, you loved Eddie… you fucking lived. I do keep looking for my Steve but it’s not for the reasons you think. Jesus, Steve – you have no idea. I see him sometimes, just like Robin probably does – but it’s because it’s rare that we look so hard. You really are a different person and I don’t think it’s only because of the year you survived alone. So yes, I look for him sometimes but that doesn’t mean I don’t see you. I like you for the things that remind me of him and for the things that make you different.”
That was… unexpected. Had he been misinterpreting the looks everyone had been giving him this whole time? No, he couldn’t have been that wrong. At least not in the beginning. Had it changed and he hadn’t noticed?
His whole worldview was being upended and he didn’t know how to handle it. The uncertainty must have shown on his face because Dustin came around to the other side of the counter. Steve turned and waited until he was standing in front of him – but he still didn’t know what to say. His mind was spinning, hopeful yet confused.
“Do you see me, Steve?” Dustin asked, turning the question back on him. “Or do you see the Dustin you lost?”
The question hurt; the pain cutting because that was the problem, wasn’t it? He wanted Dustin to be able to do something that he wasn’t able to do himself. But how unfair had he been to deny them both a relationship they wanted because of his failure?
“Both,” he whispered the agonizing truth. “Always both.”
He thought this truth would hurt Dustin in the same way that it always hurt himself, but the younger boy smiled at him instead. Small and with so much understanding and Steve was thrown by the maturity he saw in it.
“You haven’t given us enough credit, Steve. We knew when we went looking that you weren’t going to be the same as the Steve that we lost – but we went looking anyway. You think it wasn’t something we talked about? That we might find a version of you that didn’t even know us? That we might find a Steve who was so different from who we knew as to be unrecognizable? It didn’t matter, we needed to know – I needed to know that a version of you was alive somewhere. Then we found your universe. A universe that looked so irreparably different from ours that we didn’t expect you to be like our Steve at all.” Tears welled in Dustin’s eyes and his voice turned raspy as he said with quiet weight, “but you were still his brother.”
“I was,” Steve said around the emotion tightening his throat.
“So, why can’t you be mine?” Dustin asked, voice breaking.  
The question was soft, quiet – brave. Innocently simple. Why can’t you be my mine? And the answer, of course, was that he could be. So why were the words so hard to say? He nodded quickly and the hope burning in Dustin’s eyes cut right through him. He had told himself to fix it; so that’s what he did.
“I can be,” Steve said with determination and sincerity. “I want to be.”
It didn’t matter, in the end, whose memories belonged to whom. Dustin was Dustin and Steve was Steve and everything they had gone through was still theirs. It didn’t matter that Dustin had lost Steve and Steve had lost Dustin – because right now, they were standing in front of each other, alive. With all the shared history of family between them, and how could Steve deny the miracle of that?
Dustin smiled, widely and toothily and rushed into his arms.
“Thanks for not giving up on me,” Steve said into his hair, holding him closer.
“Never,” Dustin said, clutching him back just as tightly.
Steve couldn’t explain it – but the universe felt right all of a sudden. A missing piece of the puzzle had been found and the whole picture finally made sense. His wrong-footed shoes felt right, comfortable even. They released each other after a moment, surreptitiously wiping their eyes.
“Does this mean you’ll play D&D with us?” Dustin asked sheepishly.
Steve barked out a laugh and reached out to ruffle his hair.
“Yeah,” he said around a wide smile. “I’ll play.”
@just-a-tiny-void @mx-jinxous @child-of-cthulhu @awholedamnmesstbh @phoenix0bird @bookworm0690 @estrellami-1 @hbyrde36 @a-gae-af-racoon @novelnovella @meela86 @lenathegay @vampireinthesun @penny00dreadful @questionablequeeries @espressopatronum454 @r0binscript @seths-rogens @fruity-nerd @sani-86 @n0-1-important @swimmingbirdrunningrock @ellietheasexylibrarian @manda-panda-monium @paintsplatteredandimperfect @viridianphtalo @goodolefashionedloverboi @13catastrophic-blues @newtstabber @tinytalkingtina @whole-moods @queenie-ofthe-void @nailbatanddungeon
-Hello everyone, I apologize deeply for how long this has taken. No piece of writing has challenged me more than this… I struggled so deeply to have these characters express their emotions in a realistic way. Every word was painstakingly chosen, rewritten, changed, changed back, deleted, and agonized over. That whole scene changed so so many times and I really love certain moments and I am completely unhappy with others. I would love any and all feedback! -If you'd like the full playlist for Eddie's tape please check out my note on this chapter on AO3 :)
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padfootastic · 2 years
Note
Can you be awesome and give me some well thought out prongsfoot headcanons? (If you have the time), I want to write a story with then and I need more on their dynamic, than just the basics.
(Friendship and Romantic! 😁)
omg hi yes!! i’ve never gotten an ask like this, i don’t think, and my hcs usually develop during stories so let’s see if i can do it :p
x
- soulmates in every universe, if not romantic then definitely platonic. they’ll find their way to each other, always.
- james has a crooked nose that sirius loves kissing. he’s very possessive about it, actually
- j might be generally a bit thick bc of the whole spoiled-only-child thing but he’s particularly attuned to sirius’ moods and emotions. i can imagine him writing long ass letters to his parents in the first few years whenever something tripped him up (which was, ykno, everything considering how sheltered he was) to so for help and sirius featured a lot in this (mum, how do i help with nightmares? mum, he doesn’t like treacle tart what do i doooooo, mum he wasn’t allowed to fly as a kid this is a travesty, mum he’s sad a lot and chai doesn’t always help, mum i don’t know how to make him smile etc etc)
- this one’s controversial, i think, but i love thinking of sirius as modelling james’ behaviour. we know he grew up being fed violent hatred + a superiority complex the size of Everest yeah? fully believe his process of unlearning started with james (the first time he used the word mudblood, our boy probably clutched his pearls, scandalised, ‘what are you doing u can’t say that!!’ so sirius started turning to j as a barometer for how to act, sometimes, bc he realised he couldn’t trust his family (and by extension, his own) behaviour. this isn’t instant, mind, but a gradual, time & labor intensive process and even after he grew out of it, i think sirius had this subconscious tendency to look for james’ approval.
- i hate the whole ‘james matured for a girl’ arc so my take on it is that his ‘growth’ came from a combination of ailing, elderly parents + rising war tensions + most importantly, sirius. end of 5th year he got a first hand view into the treatment his best mate received by his family and that horror made him want to be the best he could for sirius. i’ve always seen james as a protector and a caregiver, someone who takes people under his wing & looks after them, and i don’t think it was ever more obvious than around sirius. post 5th year, he gained a focus that he lacked before and would spend a lot of time just picking up on skills that could help him be better. duelling, defence, first aid, knitting, cooking etc etc. anything to feel useful.
- the shift from friendship to romantic would be tricky & probably require outside intervention or a lot of time, i think. they were already so close as friends that it just never occurs to them to take it any further ykno? their hearts & souls are intertwined, they’re super physically affectionate, and they’re already each other’s no. 1. so someone either has to bring it to their attention, they take yeaaaaars to realise ‘huh. this isn’t how i feel towards others’ or they live a wonderfully fulfilling qpp life together.
- i’ve talked about this before but physical!!! affection!!! and not just in terms of like, kisses or hugs but touch. they’re always in contact in some way. it’s comforting, safe. arms around waists, shoulders, hips/chin resting on the other, leg slung across, hand on a back or leg. you get it right? it’s subconscious, it’s natural, and they don’t even realise they’re doing it unless someone points it out
- sunshine and sunshine protector!!!! james was loud and brash and took all the space in a room. he was also sensitive bc he’s not told no often so when it has to be done, u need to do it in a certain way so he doesn’t internalise it as a personal failing and shut down. sirius is the best one to do it bc he can stand up to james w/o being intimidated + realise that the carrot works better than the stick w him. there’s a very real risk of his light fading out. at the same time, this makes sirius very protective of him. it’s why i wrote shovel talk. even in a universe where lily & sirius were friends, i think he’ll have a Talk with her to confirm her intentions. sirius is not willing to take chances with his james.
- pet names! james called sirius darling and my love and honey and sweetheart because he’s an old soul in a young body. sirius called james love (and sometime babe/baby). their go to for each other was ‘si’ and ‘jamie’ respectively, which was a term of affection on its own bc only they used it, no one else.
- james has *always* been attracted to sirius; he just didn’t realise it bc he thought this was how everyone felt towards sirius. ‘oh yeah he’s so ethereally beautiful, it’s just like, a fact of life and everyone knows it’ and thinks the random boners are normal until one day he realised that, no, that’s not actually the norm & he’s just a simp who thinks everything sirius does is perfect (think chin in hand, heart eyes, sighing)
x
ok i’m gonna cut myself off here bc this is already criminally long but i think it’s pretty clear i can go on for days lol. i tried to include both but i’m not great w romantic so i hope that came thru 🙈🙈
pls tag me in ur story when u write it (even if the hcs don’t help lol u can still use them in a process of elimination to find ur niche)!! i’d love, love , love to read it + always here if u wanna brainstorm 💜
#james potter#sirius black#prongsfoot#gosh this became so long. i was worried i wouldn’t have anything to say and then i couldn’t stop 💀 had to cut myself off after a point#friend this is the first piece of fandom content i’ve written in over a month so thank u sm for the ask#still don’t know if it’s any good but hey. it’s something. i’ll take it.#i’ve talked about james as sirius’ moral compass before but i don’t mean it in a ‘he couldn’t think for himself’ way#rather that when he doubted himself—which was a lot—he’d always go to j for confirmation#(it’s a bit of projection for me bc i do something similar w a friend of mine too)#and whenever he worried he was being a little too much like his family—james would set him straight#just wanted to clear that up bc i’ve seen someone vaguing me ab this and i don’t want them to get the wrong idea again lol#also re james: i can relate to being loud & Too Much. someone once told me i talked too much and i stayed quiet the entire day#not one word escaped my mouth. made people v uncomfortable#i’ve done the rubber band against my wrist thing too & i can see james doing something like that#ig regardless of how one writes j&s the one think i’ll look for is this implicit understanding and bond?#like they’re always each other’s no. 1 and it’s absolutely unconditional. like even when they’re fighting they’ll take care of each other#that’s the relationship i look for (which i don’t often get lolcrie)#but yeah. that’s me. doesn’t have to be everyone 💀#i didn’t mention it here bc i’ve talked ab it so much but also fully think j was the only one who could fluster sirius#like the boy had a great poker face; probably also a rbf; prided himself ron being a master of his emotions#then along comes one jfp with his doe eyes and stupid fluffy hair and bright big smile#sirius has never blushed so much in his *life*#also think people who don’t know them (aka non hogwarts folx) would probably get the wrong-est impression of sirius if they see him around j#bc he’s everything that he’s *not* around him#it’s actually really funny to imagine lol#mhm ok ye gonna shut up now. thanks for the lovely ask anon & sorry for all the word vomit!#pen’s asks#pen’s notes
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emmyrosee · 2 months
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Sukuna hates how petty you can get when you’re fighting.
There is a part of him that loves your stubbornness, sure, like when you huff at him and make him work for your affection, but right now, you’re on day three of the silent treatment, and he’s losing it.
You enter a room and he’s already in it, you leave. You’re talking to yuuji and he comes in, you stop talking immediately. You haven’t been staying the night anymore, and you haven’t given him a kiss goodbye any time you’ve left. Even his ma is questioning what he did wrong, and he can’t give her a concrete answer.
He’s losing it.
Hes spammed texted you, he’s been trapping you in rooms by leaning in the doorframe, he’s been trying to get yuuji to be his messenger, but nothings working. You’re not biting.
“You’re over complicating this,” yuuji shakes his head and thumbing through channels. “Literally just apologize.”
“At this point I don’t even know what I’m apologizing for!”
“Well they’re on their way over, thinking you’re going to apologize, so you’d better figure it out.”
“You’ve been an immense help, thank you, asshole.”
As if on cue, there’s a knock at the door, and when Sukuna takes a deep breath and answers it, you nearly spin on your heel to leave.
“Oh I don’t think so,” he snips, grabbing your hand and pulling you in the house and trying not to focus on how you’re not even fighting against him, and that’s how indifferent you are to him. “We’re talking. Like it.”
“Hey dawg!” Yuuji cheers, clicking off the tv and waving. You wave back, your streak of not talking in front of Sukuna continuing. The younger chuckles, “I’ll let the adults duke it out. See ya!”
The room fills with silence as yuuji leaves, making Sukuna immensely uncomfortable. The way you’re looking at him has him uncomfortable, you’re making him so uncomfortable, and he just wishes you’d toss your pride to the side and talk to him and cuss him out or something.
“You look… good.”
Nothing.
“I’ve missed you.”
Nada.
“I made out with someone else because I got sick of you ignoring me.”
You scowl at him.
“Okay, I was lying. I was hoping you’d cuss me out.”
No dice.
“You’re acting like a fucking child!” He takes a deep breath in to try and ground himself, and you merely watch him with a hurt expression.
Okay. That didn’t help his situation.
“Fucks sake,” he grumbles, making a move to guide you backwards. He’s got you backed into a wall, hands on your shoulders while your arms stay nonchalantly crossed.
“I don’t get why you’re so mad at me; what did I even do?” He snaps, leaning close to your face threateningly.
You blink unamused.
Oh.
You’re gonna speak alright. He’s gonna make sure of it.
“Speak.”
You merely look him up and down and turn your head.
“Talk! Now!”
You let a tired exhale through your nose pass.
“I said i was sorry, and i know you know that was hard for me, why am i still being punished by you?” It’s bait to make you mad and talk, he knows he hasn’t apologized to the most sincere of his ability, but he hasn’t done anything wrong.
“Maybe I’ll tickle ya, how about that?”
That, does, have your eyes widening but you still don’t spare him a breath. He smirks, “I’d bet you’d hate that, huh? Holding in all that laughter and begs for me to stop, knowing I’m not going to until you talk to me… and I’ll do it too. You know that.”
You merely cross your arms over your chest tighter.
He shrugs, “you asked for it.”
And he’s gotta say, he’s impressed with how little you’re fighting back from him scooping you in his arms and tossing you on the couch, straddling you, even taking your two wrists in his massive paw and holding them above your head. Your lips wobble in anticipation, and he’s got you booked now. “Any last words? A quick ‘I hate you,’ maybe?”
You blink, bored, almost calling his bluff, and he comes up to smack his face in frustration. He wasn’t actually bluffing, he did have full intentions of making you scream, but he was so sure you’d crack under his gaze, even a quick kick to him as he was adjusting your body.
No dice.
With a shrug, hands come down quickly to tickle the meat of your ribs, settling in the dips and scratching at the bones maddeningly. He sees your lip become wobblier, and he smirks down at you. “Nothing? Not even a giggle? You must be pissed at me.”
You screw your eyes shut to ignore him and he clicks his tongue, “now you can’t even look at me? That sucks.”
He leans down to nibble at your neck and ear, whispering little words against your skin to make you squeak. But it isn’t until he cheats and uses his mouth to blow a raspberry on your sensitive neck, an area he’s so used to pressing loving kisses to, that you finally crack.
“YOURE SO CHEAP!” You scream, followed by a flurry of laughter and struggling from his tight hold. Your laugh is whiny and desperate, feet digging into the couch while his fingers merely slither up and under your arms.
He smirks against your skin, “gotcha.”
“Fuck off!” You squeal, tugging as hard as you can in his grasp. “Stohop it!”
“Are you gonna keep ignoring me?” He asks. You shake your head back and forth, but he cocks a brow. “Is that a no? Are we going to talk about your issues with me, or am I going to have to tickle you for the next few hours?”
“HOURS?!” You howl.
He shrugs, “you ignored me for three days, least I deserve is to tickle you until you sob.”
“I wasn’t-“ you’re cut off by a flurry of your own giggles. “This isn’t-“ a few more yowls of your laughter when he digs in more. “FUCK OFF!”
“Nah,” he snickers. “This is more fun.” He does, however, stop his torment and pulls back, but he does look down at you impatiently. “Speak,” he echos from earlier.
You let out a few more titters slip past your lips, but you do sober up slightly, “you don’t even care that I was mad at you.”
“Uh, I was about to tickle you until you died, I think I cared too much-“
“No, Sukuna. You just didn’t want me to be mad. You never apologized and you never even bothered to try and make it better…”
This, oddly, has Sukuna’s heart twisting, squeezed with emotions and realization that he did mess up, pride couldn’t save him now and if he wanted to fix this, he’d have to prove it.
He sighs in truce, “I’m sorry, babe.”
“….”
“What?”
“That’s it?”
He rolls his eyes, “what else do you want me to say?”
“I want you to care that I was hurt!” You whine, raising on your elbows. “I want you to understand I was hurt, that you messed up! Not be so prideful and not admit it!”
“Alright, alright, jeez,” he groans. He locks eyes with you, and he knows you’re not going to like it, but he leans down to kiss you, using his two hands to cup your jaw, letting his thumbs stroke your bone lovingly. “I’m sorry. It must’ve sucked having to deal with my shitty ass apologies before. I never should’ve pulled that shit, and I hated not having you by my side.”
This, has you softening.
He presses another kiss to you, “I missed your laughter. I missed you scolding me. I missed you being sarcastic… don’t pull that silent treatment shit again, will ya?”
You hum happily, “don’t piss me off and I won’t have to.”
He blinks unamused, and as the thought of tickling you again crosses his mind, you lean up to kiss his lips giggling softly in the warmth. “I’m kidding. You and I both know you’re not going to stop pissing me off.”
“Love when you answer your own demands,” he chuckles.
The tightness in his soul loosens as you submit to his affections, and he does make a mental note to never piss you off so bad again where you go back to happy to never talk to him again. He hates it more than even he knows, drags him down and he feels like he’s missing a crucial part of himself.
But it is good to know he can get you back out of that funk.
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peachesofteal · 5 months
Text
Light On - single mom/neighbors fic Simon Riley/female reader Prompt: Your apartment floods. Inspired by and for @liliumbosniacum
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"I need to take leave."
Simon's phone is pressed against his face, one hand holding the device, the other with a canvas bag in his hand, it's contents overflowing: blankets, baby clothes, your pillow.
"Everything alright?" Price sounds suspicious, but more curious than anything, and Simon sighs.
"Neighbor's flat flooded. She's got nowhere else to go so I'm letting 'em stay with me for a while." Price, thank fucking god, doesn't push it any further, disconnecting with a rumble about checking in with him next week, wishing him a happy holiday, and a parting good luck.
When he hangs up, you're standing hesitantly in his doorway, pile of clothes in your arms.
"That the last of it?" He asks, and you nod.
"Are y-you sure this is okay?" You're still upset, shaken, and he doesn't blame you. You were terrified when you woke up to bone chilling, ankle deep water, frantically shouting about a burst pipe into the phone over Emmaline's shrieks.
"It's okay, sweetheart. I've got plenty of room." He does. His flat is larger than yours, and though they're both two bedroom floor plans, his bedrooms are bigger, and he has two bathrooms, compared to your one. "I got the crib reassembled in the guest room." He motions to the door that's half opened, a few bags of Emmaline's stuff collected on the floor.
"Thank you." you murmur, and then step forward, burying your face in his chest. He holds you there, rubbing your back, working his thumb into the knot that sits at the base of your neck. “At least we saved the tree,” you laugh, wet and sad, and he hums, bowing to press his lips to your forehead.
“I’m sorry love.”
“It’s alright.” You shrug. “Nothing I could control.” You’ve got a point there, and he appreciates the approach, marvels at your ability to not be angry or frustrated with your neighbor, even though it wasn’t really their fault as well. He’s irritated for both of you, anxious over visualizing what would have happened if the chunk of the ceiling that fell was misplaced and landed on you, or Emma.
You pull away, face twisted up into something that looks painful, tears on your lash line, and he frowns. “Hey, hey. It’s okay, sweetheart, c’mon. It’s alright.”
“I know.” You cry, clamping your hand over the bridge of your nose and trying to turn away. “It’s just all her gifts we-were in my room and now they’re ruined, and-“
“Okay, so we’ll get more. We still have plenty of time.” He reassures, rubbing his palms up and down your arms until you come back to him, letting him fold you back into his embrace. “We’ll fix it. Don’t worry.”
“We will?” You sniffle, and he nods.
“I’m on leave, until after the holiday, so I’ll be around, we can go shopping and replace everything. It’s going to be alright. I promise.” That word slips out of him again, promise. I promise, just like he told you this morning when you were frantic and he said it was okay that you stayed with him, I promise, just like he assured last night when you apologized for Emmaline crying for most the evening. “Okay?” His chin rests on the top of your head, and he turns to kiss you, the touch as soft as he can manage. You hum, and then sigh into him.
“Okay Simon.”
“I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“No.” His refusal is immediate, and you look at him in near exasperation.
“Simon I can’t kick you out of your bed! You’re too big for the couch, anyway, and I don’t mind, I’ve slept on a couch plenty. Plus I’ll be able to hear better, when Emmaline wakes-“
“Sweetheart.” You’re in the living room, bouncing Emmaline in your arms, walking back and forth in front of the fireplace. She’s wearing a red and white striped onesie, like a candy cane, and Simon chuckles when she makes grabby hands at him as he approaches. You sigh, and he tucks his hands under her, lifting her away and into his arms, pleased at how you instantly relax and stretch your back and shoulders in response. “Think you’re getting too big for mama, baby girl.” You roll your eyes, playfully knocking your elbow into his side, and he grunts. “You’re not kicking me out of my own bed.”
“No?” You turn with a hand on your hip, other one holding a half full bottle.
“No, well. I mean-“ he falters, suddenly losing his confidence. “I’m happy to let you have it, or…” He can’t get the words right, can’t communicate what it is he wants to tell you, too worried about scaring you off or being too forward, pushing you too far.
“Or?” You look so pretty, standing in his flat, your belongings, Emma’s, strewn about, just your presence alone making this place feel more like a home than it ever has before. He feels dizzy, overflowing with emotion when Emma lays her head down on his chest, and you smile at her, looking back up at him, delicate, sweet smile on your lips. He bends, tilting your face upwards to meet his, lips ghosting against one another as Emma coos from his arms.
“Or… we can share it.”
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togenabi · 7 months
Text
pick me up
roronoa zoro (opla) x reader
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♡—zoro never paid your jokes or pickup lines any mind. that is, until something happens that makes you stop.
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word count♡— 3.2k
genre♡— mild angst, fluff, straw hat!reader
content notes♡— opla zoro, fem!reader, reader wears a dress and tells very bad jokes, creepy dude oc, don't be creepy be cool yall, reader pulls off a heist with nami, zoro gets jealous, alcohol consumption, no use of y/n, barely proofread
also on♡— ao3
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author's note♡— this is a request from anon! I'm sorry if I tweaked a few things, I'm not the best at angst hhhh I hope you still like it!
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“Okay, okay. Wait. I got it this time.” You say, already trying to keep from laughing. 
“Why were the kids having trouble in pirate class?”
Zoro only side-eyes you with his arms crossed, vehemently unimpressed. 
“Because they were overbored!” 
Watching for his reaction intently, you keep your eyes focused on his face... Nothing changes. 
You tsk, but aren’t seriously discouraged. This is how he always reacts to your jokes, after all. “I’ll get you one of these days, Roronoa Zoro.”
The swordsman only sighs, leaning back into his seat to take a nap. “You do that.”
“Don’t listen to him, love.” Sanji says from the other side of the kitchen as he cleans the counter. “I thought that joke was good.”
“You’re lying, but I appreciate the sentiment, Sanji.” You grin at him. Focusing back on the book you were reading, you miss the amused, challenging look Sanji sends Zoro.
Everyone hears Luffy approaching the kitchen before he enters. “Guys!” He bellows. “We’ll be reaching land soon. Be ready to leave in fifteen minutes!”
The majority of the day is spent restocking supplies. You were all split up into pairs, but before you left, Luffy pointed to a restaurant with a flashy, illuminated sign on top that reads: ‘Bistro of Light’. How cringey of them.
“We should meet there for dinner! You don’t mind taking a break, right, Sanji?” Luffy asks eagerly, and you think that no one could say no to him when he’s so enthusiastic. Sanji nods, and you all go through the town until the sun starts to set.
The inside of the restaurant is just as ridiculous as the sign outside. Chandeliers of every color hang on the ceiling. Huge fish tanks and fountains lined with lights almost blind you. You laugh when looking at it all causes Zoro to wince. 
“Hey Zoro,” You call for him. “You know what’s faster than the speed of light?”
“...”
“My heartbeat when I think of you!” You wink at him, proud of the joke even when he only sighs and looks away.
Usopp walks up to a receptionist standing behind a desk. “Hey. Table for six, if you would be so kind.”
“I’m afraid we’re at full capacity at the moment.” They respond. “You’ll have to wait, is that alright?”
Everyone shares a look. Except for Luffy, who looks dead set on eating here, you all feel unsure about waiting.
“When’s the next table going to be available?” Usopp asks. “We’re actually a really big deal. It’s gonna be really embarrassing for you guys if you don’t let us in.” The person frowns, face screaming, ‘is this guy serious’?
But before they can reply, a booming voice enters the restaurant. A tall man, dressed in a pristine white suit and wearing jewels on every finger, pushes you out of the way to yell at the receptionist. You stumble, but thankfully Zoro is there to catch you.
“What on earth is going on here?! Why are there so many people crowding the entryway?!” He fumes, angrily gesturing to your group. 
“If they’re not going to eat, then I strongly suggest—” The rich man freezes suddenly, his eyes trained on you.
You keep your face as emotionless as possible, but you die laughing inside when Nami swipes a brooch from his jacket while he’s distracted with you.
“Ah,” The man says. His tone softening a considerable amount as he walks over to you. “I thought I had the best jewels in my treasury, but you're the most radiant gem I've ever laid my eyes on.” It takes everything in you to not back away. Zoro tenses beside you.
“Why haven’t these guests been guided to a table?” He asks, turning back to the receptionist.
“We’re at full capacity, Sir.” Oh. He must own the place. It makes sense that the owner is as gaudy as everything else in here.
“That won’t do.” He looks back to you, and you swear you could feel your skin crawl under his gaze. 
“I am Helios. Welcome to my establishment.” The man introduces himself with a flourish, bowing to you. His jewels and gold accessories glint in the light. “What might your name be?”
Reluctantly, you introduce yourself. Had this been a normal situation, you would have turned around and walked away from him the second he saw you. But, you could feel the crew going hungry, and you’re sure Nami will want to snag another ring or two—so you play nice.
Helios smiles, repeating your name. He was probably trying to sound romantic, but he’s not doing anything for you. Not when Zoro says your name much better.
You keep Zoro’s voice in mind, remembering how nice it sounds. It’s easier to smile at Helios that way. Time to lay on the charm, “I was really looking forward to having dinner here. I don’t suppose you could help us out?”
“Follow me, my dear. You deserve to dine upstairs. The view is simply spectacular at this hour.” Helios holds out his hand to you, but Luffy—bless his soul—grabs it to shake it zealously.
“Thanks so much for letting us eat here, Mr. Helios!” Luffy claps him on the back. Helios looks dumbfounded, and the crew does an impressive job keeping their composure. 
Helios tries to walk beside you as he guides you all upstairs, but Zoro is steadfast on your right, and Nami smartly positions herself on your left. Luffy and Usopp tug the restaurant owner along, chatting his ear off. You almost feel bad for him. 
Nami murmurs, her voice carefully silent so only you can hear. “Treasury, huh?”
You smile. “Of course you’d be curious about that.”
“Think you could get us to his mansion?” She dares you, eyes aglow at the promise of a good heist.
“I know I can.” You pause walking to check your reflection on an ornate, sun-shaped mirror. After fixing your hair, you grin at your friends. “I’m irresistible, after all.”
Maybe if you weren’t busy buttering up your host, you would have noticed that Zoro wasn’t eating properly. Normally, you would force him to eat. You would pile food on his plate, telling that joke about fake noodles being impasta that always cracks you up.
Zoro frowns at the meal in front of him. The fish seems to frown back. Sighing, he decides to just order another drink. But no matter what he consumes, a bitter taste always blooms in his mouth afterwards. 
The glass in his hand almost cracks when he hears your voice sucking up to Helios again. “So, you own this place? Do you live around here?”
Helios leans far too close towards you, but you grin and bear it. “Would you like a private tour, my gem?”
You place a hand on his arm, he may read it as affection, but you hold him so he keeps that distance. “That sounds wonderful.”
Zoro huffs under his breath. He needs another drink. 
Thankfully, Helios serves good booze at his manor. Zoro almost didn’t want to drink any of it, but he needs alcohol in his system if he has to watch you flirt with this idiot so Nami can rob him blind. Whatever she steals better be worth all this, or else he might punch something. Or someone. Preferably Helios.
You share a look with Nami and give her an imperceptible nod. With that signal, she passes by and pretends to lose her footing. Wine seeps into your clothes, staining the fabric and sticking it to your skin. Did she really have to pick red wine? You liked this shirt.
“Oh, my dear!” Helios gasps. “You should get cleaned up. I’ll have my servants draw you a bath and bring you fresh clothes.”
“I’m so sorry, I should’ve watched where I was going.” Nami loops her arm through yours. “Let me help you with that.” 
And so, with another fake smile sent Helios’ way, you rush with Nami to find the treasury.
“Be quick.” Nami says once you enter the luxurious bathroom prepared for you. 
As tempting as the bubble bath is, you only take a few wet towels to tidy up. You step into the curtained area, about to strip when Nami holds out a hand to stop you.
“Wait.” She says, her tone serious. A teddy bear holding a rose is propped up on a shelf behind you. Tapping its eyes, Nami scowls before throwing the bear into the trash bin.
“A camera?” She nods. “Seriously? What a creep.”
You and Nami inspect the room. It’s not clear if there are other hidden cameras, but she stands guard in front of the shower curtains just in case.
“Hey,” She starts. “Did you notice Zoro acting weird tonight?”
You frown as you change into the dress Helios prepared. “What do you mean?”
Nami hums in thought. “He’s just…” A dumbass, she wants to say, but doesn’t. “He seems extra grumpy.”
That causes you to laugh. “I guess I should prepare more jokes for him when we get back.”
She winces. “...I’m not that sure he likes those.”
“Hm… Maybe not, but,” You pause to think. He may not laugh loudly as Luffy does, but he never shot you down for being bubbly around him. “Zoro would have told me to shut up by now if he didn’t, right?”
“Huh.” Nami says. “You got a point.”
You push the curtains aside, grinning at her. “Come on, let’s break into that treasury.”
“Of course, my gem.”
“Oh my god, if that sticks I’m going to be so mad.”
The treasury was a vault full of everything from jewels to ornamental weapons. Nami playfully crowned you with a diamond tiara, and she put on dangling emerald earrings that looked stunning on her.
After filling your bags and pockets with the most you can carry, you and Nami head out to find the others. You run into Usopp on the way back to the lounge.
“I see you two cleaned up well.” He jokes. “Luffy and Sanji are in the kitchen. I was just on my way there.”
“Where’s Zoro?” You ask.
“With Helios. You know him, still drinking.”
“We should leave soon.” Nami insists. “We risk getting caught the longer we stay.”
“Right.” You hand Usopp your bag, his eyes widen comically when he feels how heavy it is. “I’ll just go say goodbye, I’ll catch up with you guys later.”
Before you even enter the lounge, however, you hear Zoro speak your name. Are they talking about you? You press your back against the wall, straining to hear their conversation.
You almost wish you didn’t.
“She tells the worst jokes and doesn’t know when to quit it. Thinks she’s hilarious but she’s really not.” Zoro speaks in that deep voice that would usually be comforting to you—but his words now pierce through you painfully.
“What exactly is your relationship with her?” Helios asks, and Zoro is silent. It feels like your heart crumbles for every second he doesn’t answer.
You’re friends! You’ve been dreaming of more but, you’ve always been friends.
…Aren’t you? Doesn’t he think so?
“I don’t know.” Your heart fully shatters. What does he mean he doesn’t know? “She just sticks to me a lot. It can get annoying.”
“Well. That’s unfortunate, but it’s nothing to sob over.” Helios kisses his teeth. “I don’t care about her attitude. All that doesn’t matter as long as she has that pretty face.”
You wait for Zoro to say something. Anything. You want him to cut Helios where he stands.
But he doesn’t. The silence drags on. The air feels like it’s pushing you down, crushing your lungs. You have to get out of here.
You burst into the kitchen, trying your best not to cry. Nami immediately rushes to you, holding your shoulders to steady you. “What happened?”
Letting out a shuddered breath, you whisper, “You were right.” It’s impossible to think straight right now. “I want to leave.”
You look to Luffy, still shaken up. Your captain’s expression is serious as he nods. “Go ahead, we’ll get Zoro and catch up.” Not needing to be told twice, you head out the door.
Before she follows you, Nami hisses at Sanji, “Talk some sense into that dumbass, won’t you?”
The entire walk back to the Going Merry is silent. You’re grateful Nami doesn’t immediately press you for what happened, but you know that you should answer her questions. You finally get the words out in the safety of her cabin.
You sit cross-legged on the bed, and everything comes pouring out. “He called me annoying.” 
“Zoro?” She asked, offering you a box of tissues.
“Yeah.” You sniff, taking the box.
“I’m sorry. That was fucked up of him to say.”
Unsure how to properly comfort you, Nami gets up and retrieves extra pillows from a storage compartment.
“Why don’t we have a girl’s night?” Nami asks, offering you a smile. It pulls a smile out of you too, the first one you mustered since Zoro crushed your spirit. 
“I’d like that.” 
Zoro is confused to find that you and Nami had left before them. Luffy gave Helios some lame excuse that you weren’t feeling well, but Zoro knew better. If you were really sick, the whole crew would be panicking and rushing to get to you.
He stares at Sanji and Usopp, trying to piece together what really happened. They both turn away from him, refusing to say anything.
In the next second, a maid rushes out, panting and screaming, “Mr. Helios! The treasury has been robbed!”
Fine. Answers can come later. For now, they need to run.
Once they’re back on the ship, Sanji follows Zoro into his cabin. He stares at the chef blankly, “Get out.”
“Did you do something?” Sanji leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Get out.” Zoro repeats, about to push him out of the room when Sanji speaks your name.
“She was upset. Asked to leave as soon as possible.” Sanji’s gaze is almost menacing, and his frown deepens when Zoro’s face falls. So, that’s what happened. You had heard him.
“Fuck.” Zoro groans, running a hand through his hair in frustration.
“Everyone noticed you getting bitchy over Helios.” Sanji notes “Did you confront him or something?”
Scoffing, Zoro sits on his hammock, the fabric dips under his weight. “It was something, all right.”
Wanting Zoro to explain himself unpromptedly, Sanji just watches him and lets the silence hang in the air. After a solid, suffocating minute, the swordsman caves.
“I called her annoying.” Zoro breathes out deeply. “I said her jokes aren’t funny and that she sticks to me a lot.”
“Man, that’s screwed up.” Sanji gapes. “I thought you cared about her?”
“Of course I do, but I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.” Zoro defends. “Luffy’s the only one who laughs at her jokes, and she’s always by my side.” 
Sighing, Zoro continues, “...but I never minded any of it. I learned to care for those parts of her a long time ago. I was only trying to get that shithead off her back.”
“You’re an idiot.” Sanji concludes. “You have the emotional depth of a sink, sometimes.”
Zoro, surprisingly, doesn’t insult the chef back. He stares at the wall, slouched and looking the most empty Sanji’s ever seen him.
“What should I do?” He asks. “How should I make it up to her?”
Sanji’s eyes light up, he beams and claps his hands together in excitement. Even if Zoro hasn’t heard it yet, he already dreads the chef’s suggestion. 
“I have an idea.”
When you woke up the next morning, you had every intention of avoiding Zoro like the plague. It was still really difficult to look at him, the hurt you felt still stings your heart. 
But unfortunately for you, he had other plans. 
You’re gazing out into the sea on the forecastle deck when you hear a familiar set of heavy footsteps. You sigh. “I don’t want to talk, Zoro.”
“I’m not here to talk.” You turn to him questioningly, but you really shouldn’t give him the time of day. Wasn’t he the one who complained about you clinging to him?
You don’t say anything. Only glaring at him and hoping he sees how disappointed you feel. Zoro stands here, appearing strangely vulnerable. If you weren’t so hurt, you would have hugged him by now. 
But you are. So he has to wallow in the awkwardness of the consequences of his words. He—wait. What’s that on his face?
“I…” Is he… blushing? “I’m sorry I wasn’t around in the past.” 
You make a face and blink at him. What is he up to?
“...Can I be part of your future?”
That knocks the wind right out of you, your jaw practically falls to the floor. Did Roronoa Zoro just use a pickup line? On you? You can’t help but glance at your surroundings to check if the sky is still blue.
No—hold on. He can’t win you over just like that. He needs to explain why he said what he did. 
“You said my jokes are the worst.” You grumble.
“They are.” Zoro looks straight into your eyes as he speaks. “But you’re one of the best things to ever happen to me.”
“You said I always stick to your side.”
He doesn’t miss a beat and answers earnestly, “You do. And I wouldn’t want you to be anywhere else.”
“…You said you didn’t know what our relationship is.”
That causes Zoro to pause, searching your eyes as if he’ll find the answer in them. “…I don’t.”
Oh, this impossible sword-brain of a man. Your lips quiver, and you realize you can’t fight back your smile anymore. “I love you, Zoro.”
His expression shifts from anxiousness to shock, relief, and a bit of something else... 
“I love you, too.” Ah, of course. Love, that too.
Slowly, tentatively, he raises his arms, inviting you to an embrace. He’s adorable, looking a teensy bit nervous that you wouldn’t want to hold him. Giggling, you rush to him, wrapping your arms around his waist as he envelops your shoulders. 
“I bet Sanji taught you to apologize with that line.” You murmur into his chest. “If you tell me another one…” Zoro cringes, his frame tensing. 
“...I’ll give you a kiss.” His expression lifts, seriously considering it.
After a minute, Zoro clears his throat. You almost squeal in excitement.
“Roses are red, violets are blue…” A classic. This is going to be good.
“I’m sorry if I made you feel awkward, I just want to have dinner with you.” You gasp, squeezing him tighter. 
“Yes! That was perfect.” Laughing, you reach up and hold his face to keep your promise. 
You plant a sweet, short kiss on his lips. When you pull away, he’s looking at you like he would fight anyone for you. He probably would, if you’re being honest.
“You’re perfect.” He breathes, mouth against yours and then he’s kissing you again.
Hiding behind a pile of crates, the rest of the crew whoop and cheer. (Silently.)
“That was such a good line!” Luffy whispers.
“I still think he should have used the ‘I don’t speak angel’ one.” Usopp whispers back.
“What are you talking about?!” Sanji angrily, quietly mutters. “That was perfect because he apologized and delivered the line.”
“Shut it, you guys. I was right, he didn’t last a day with her mad at him.” Nami holds out her palm. “Pay up.” The others groan, handing her some berry. All’s well that ends well.
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verstappen-cult · 2 months
Note
If you are taking requests, i was thinking of a poly!lestappen. Where the reader is a F1 presenter and she's excited that Oliver is doing hus debut at Ferrari because its one of her favorite drivers in F2 and both Max and Charles get jealous. Like she asks Charles to take care of Oliver since he's still 18 and its his debut.
You still have forty minutes to spare until you have to go live, so, you make your way to the track, where everyone’s waiting for the Drivers Parade.
You spot your boys pretty easily, they are standing close but deep in conversation with different people. Max is talking with his teammate and Lando, while Charles is talking with Ollie. You really don’t want to interrupt but the Monégasque has already seen you, and for the looks of it, he’s telling the younger boy about you because he turns his head in your direction, a bright smile on his face.
“Hey, pretty girl.” Charles greets you, his arm finding your waist in a second. He loves having you close to him, touching any part of your body.
“Hey, Charlie.” You kiss his cheek, wiping the lipstick stain. “How are you feeling, Ollie? You did amazing yesterday!”
The british boy blushes, a shy smile dancing across his lips. “Oh, thank you. I’m excited and nervous too.” He looks at Charles for a second before turning to you. “Charles has given me some advice, so, I’m feeling a little more confident.”
Lewis calls Ollie’s name, waving at him from the back of the room.
“I’ll see you after the race, I hope?” The younger boy asks, and you nod. He waves goodbye to you and his teammate for a day, and walks away.
“Did you came here to give us a good luck kiss?” You hear your boyfriend’s voice behind you and then a kiss being placed on the top of your head.
“You know it’s something that would never change.” You stand on your tiptoes, kissing Max’s lips briefly, turning to Charles you do the same. “but I also came here to tell you to take care of Ollie,” You say looking at your brown-haired boyfriend. “But you are already doing a good job, so,” This time you look at Max, giving him your best puppy eyes. “Would you do that for me? Just wish him good luck or something before the race, I’m sure he would appreciate that.”
Charles and Max look at you with eyebrows raised, confusion in his eyes.
“What?”
“You came here for that?” Charles says, sounding a little hurt.
“I came here to give my boyfriends a good luck kiss like I always do,” You try to explain that by talking slowly. “But I also came for Ollie. I’ve known him and his family for as long as I’ve known you two.”
But that’s not enough for them, because Max rolls his eyes and looks away.
Okay. They’re acting weird.
“Wait,” You try not to laugh when a thought crosses your mind. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous.”
They avoid making eye contact.
“Oh my God,” And this time you laugh, because you can’t believe it. Sometimes you forget how childish they are. “You are jealous of an eighteen year old boy. Are you aware of that?”
“Well, when you say it like that…”
You shake your head, closing the distance between you and Charles to kiss him one last time. You do exactly the same with Max.
“Good luck, pretty boys.” They watch you walk away, but then you are turning around, stopping to glare at them. “If you don’t take care of Ollie, we won’t be celebrating tonight.”
“What? That’s so unfair!”
“He’s the enemy!”
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mostly-imagines · 4 days
Text
Guard Dog vol. II
jason todd x fem!reader
aka don’t fuck with jason’s gf pt. II
3 in 1 blurbs
warnings: mild standard gotham violence, in the 3rd section: attempted sexual assault and panicky thoughts afterwards from reader
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“Sweetheart, this is…not good.”
You turn your head over to him, where he’s frowning, hands on his hips as he inspects your bedroom window.
You tilt your head, looking it over from your place on the couch. “What’s wrong with it?”
He sighs, “Well for one, the lock is broken. But even if it weren’t, this thing would be so easy to break.”
“It’s the lock the place came with.” You shrug. At least it has a lock. In Gotham that’s kind of asking a lot.
“Yeah, I can tell.” He frowns at the window once again, moving over to stand behind the couch. “I’m getting you better locks.” He looks to you, “I can install them tomorrow?”
You tilt your head up to look at him, “You don’t need to get me new locks, Jay…”
“Okay.” He kisses your head, “I’m getting them.”
You sigh in defeat, though your smile makes it lose its credibility. “Tomorrow’s fine. I assume you’re staying the night, then?”
He makes his way to the kitchen as he says, “Well, I’m not leaving you alone here with this piece of shit the only thing between you and Gotham.”
“I’ve lived here for two years.” You say flatly.
“Don’t remind me.” He mumbles as he moves behind the counter. “Actually, your door chain’s broken too, isn’t it?” It is, but that’s his own fault.
You had a long day a couple weeks ago and had a very long, very hot shower the second you got home. Unfortunately, it had slipped your mind to text him that you were home safe and he’d broken through the chain in one try to make sure you were okay.
You hum, “It wasn’t doing much anyways.” Clearly.
He grimaces as he heats up the stove for dinner.
You laugh lightly, “What?”
He looks back at you with a frankly adorable frown, “I don’t like that.”
You’d never thought much of it. You hadn’t had any—well, many—problems living here before, and you still had your deadbolt and handle lock.
“It’s okay. I’m safe here.”
He looks like he strongly disagrees. He comes back over, sitting next to you, taking your face in his hands. “Will you please let me set up some security measures around here?”
“Did Jason Todd just say please?” You say in faux-shock.
He rolls his eyes at you, “I’m serious.”
You sigh, contemplatively. “I don’t want my apartment looking like the Home Alone set.”
He laughs at that, “It’s not going to. You won’t even notice most of them. Just do it for me, please?”
“I’ll agree, but only because I know you’re going to do it anyways and I’d like to pretend I have control over this.” That’s not true, you’d agree to literally anything if he said please that sweetly again, but that’s your business.
“Fair enough.” He smiles, kissing your cheek.
No, it’s not fair at all.
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It’s late. You’re not even sure how late but the city has calmed from its usual noises, indicating that your boyfriend will be home soon.
You’re coming up heavy on cramps tonight and according to the mockingly empty spot in your medicine cabinet, you’re out of ibuprofen. Yeah, it’s late, but the store on the corner is a three minute walk and fuck your stomach hurts. Jason wouldn’t like it if you went out without telling him though, so maybe you should wait until—
The sound of the living room window sliding open breaks you away from your thoughts, followed by a clatter of something hitting the ground.
You walk back into the dimly lit room, finding your boyfriend sliding the window shut again, holsters abandoned on the ground. He turns and collapses onto the couch face first, body immediately gone limp.
“Hey, baby.” You bite back a laugh, coming over to rub his muscled back from behind the couch. He groans into the cushion in response. “Why don’t you go get in bed?”
He hums almost imperceptibly, sitting up and rubbing his eyes roughly with his palms.
He stands and takes your hand in his as he passes by, tugging you towards the bedroom. The deep ache in your abdomen reminds you of your earlier train of thought. You pull your hand back, stopping in your tracks.
He turns back to you with a frown, wanting to know what could possibly be getting in his way of falling asleep, holding you close.
“I gotta go pick up some ibuprofen. I’ll be right back.” You say quietly, not wanting to disturb the quietness of the night for him. His frown deepens as you head towards the door, watching you.
You’ve got your purse in hand and are reaching for the handle when you hear his footsteps following in suit. “Hey, it’s okay. Stay here, I’m just going to the 24 hour store on the corner.”
He shakes his head, “You’re not going out in Gotham alone at two in the morning. Put your coat on, it’s cold.”
You do as you’re told, shrugging the coat on as you glance over at him. “Jason, it’s okay. You’re exhausted, go to sleep.”
He ignores you, throwing a sweatshirt on to cover up his armor, and follows you out the door; albeit far more sluggish than usual.
He was right though, the night air is bitter and slaps your face with every step forward you take. He lingers a few steps behind you, honest to god almost falling asleep mid step a couple times.
Frankly, you’re not even sure what kind of fight he’d be able to put up in this state. Though, he’s surprised you plenty of times before. In any case, his head snaps up every time there’s any sign of movement around, instantly on alert.
He trails behind you as you browse through the narrow aisles, hands stuffed in his sweatshirt.
As you’re standing at the store counter paying, his neck is craned forward, resting on your shoulder. You rub soothing circles into his hand with your thumb, though you’re sure it’s not doing anything to help his exhaustion.
You’re walking back home, the bite of the air a bit more forgiving in this direction. There’s another man walking down the sidewalk approaching, hands in pocket.
Jason’s too tired to bother with subtlety, glaring directly at the passerby before he could even think of trying anything. And it works, because the guy averts his gaze real quick and speeds up past you.
He continues working at his post from just behind you all the way until you’re back inside your apartment.
He takes the medicine container out of his pocket and cracks it open for you, wordlessly filling up a glass of water after. You gulp down a couple of the pills, and he takes the glass and bottle out of your hand the second you’re done, setting them on the counter.
He turns to you, eyes barely open, mumbling, “Can we sleep now?”
You smile at his fatigued state and take his hand, leading him to the bedroom.
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Your neighbor likes you. You know it, Jason knows it.
The worst he’d done was flirt with you, badly, and shut his mouth real quick whenever your boyfriend emerged from your apartment.
And Jason let that go; he knows better than anybody that you’re heavenly and sweet and clever, of course this fucking guy likes you. Jason set an unspoken rule with himself, that he won’t get violent with any guys unless they put their hands on you. Something he knows for absolute fact your neighbor has not done.
At least he hadn’t until a couple of hours ago. You’d been in the hallway at the mailslots, your boyfriend nowhere in sight, when he decided it was the perfect time to make a move. Make several moves, actually.
You’re sitting on the couch, knees to chest, still trying to wrap your mind wround what had happened when Jason sees you. You stopped crying a while ago and you’ve entered the phase of…well. That happened.
Your hear keys jingling outside the door, followed by your boyfriend's entrance. He’s carrying some grocery bags and has a book tucked under his chin.
He lets the bags slide off his arms, and sets the book on the counter with them, beaming, “You’re never gonna guess what b—“ His smile drops when he sees you. “What’s wrong?”
You shake your head, “Nothing.” But your blinking feels off all of a sudden, and you can’t remember what you usually do with your face when you’re not lying. It doesn’t matter though, you could be an academy award winning actress and you’re still sure Jason would be able to see right through you with a single glance.
He frowns, “Don’t lie to me.” He moves towards you, kneeling down in front of you. “Please. What’s wrong?” His eyes are pleading now, already worried.
You don’t want him to worry about this. He already worries about you too much and he’s got all his vigilante stuff and…you just want to believe that this is a manageable situation and not a problem. Not something that affected you.
“It’s just…it’s not a big deal, okay? I can handle it—”
His posture stiffens and his voice suddenly goes low and serious, “What happened?”
You know where this is going. “Jason. Promise me you won’t do anything.”
His brow furrows, and his frown turns to something closer to anger. “Did someone put their hands on you? Who?”
“Jason—”
“Who did it?”
“The neighbor, b—” he immediately snaps to a stand and starts towards the door. You hurry to grab onto his hand before he can escape your proximity, “Jason. Please don’t.”
The break in your voice is enough to make his rage falter and turn back around to face you.
“Baby, if he touched you—” His eyes are pleading, begging you to let him go take care of this. If not for you, then for him.
“It wasn’t—he didn’t do anything. He didn’t get to. I hit him and he backed off.” Which is…sort of true.
He stares at you. “In the hallway?”
You blink. “…Yeah?”
He takes off towards the bedroom wordlessly. You follow quickly on his tail, watching him sit on the edge of your bed, opening his computer and clicking through it quickly.
You slide over next to him, and see that he's pulling up a file under the name of your building and today’s date. It takes you two seconds too long to realize what he’s doing, the thought only sinking in right as you see the hallway security camera footage on the screen.
“Jason—” you try to close the computer but he bats your hand away.
He forwards through the footage, as you scramble trying and failing to reach past him, various building occupants coming in and out of frame rapidly.
“—please just listen to me.” But he did listen to you, and he heard that someone tried to hurt you. That was all he needed to hear.
He stops when he sees you enter the frame, watching closely. He sees you flipping through the mail. He sees your neighbor slither out of his apartment and stand far too close to you. You take a step back only to be met with two steps forward by him. He says something to you, probably asking where your boyfriend is.
The angle doesn’t show his face, but it does see yours, and you look incredibly uncomfortable. You don’t answer him, which evidently was enough of an answer in itself.
Your neighbor tries to brush some of your hair out of your face but you snap your head away, stumbling back a little. He uses your lack of balance as an “excuse” to grab onto your waist, pulling you close to him.
Your hands are out in front of you and you’re shaking your head as he pushes towards you. His lips land on your neck and you try to move backwards, but he grabs your wrists and holds you in place.
You fight against his grip, and upon realizing that your struggling doesn’t matter to him at all, you dig your nails into his wrists so hard you draw blood. He groans in pain and his grip on you loosens.
You snap your hands away and push yourself away, locking yourself in your apartment. Your neighbor lingers for a moment, shouting something at the door before trudging back into his apartment and slamming the door.
Jason snaps the laptop shut, coming to a stand once again. His fists clinch at his sides. “That was not nothing.”
No, it wasn’t. But you feel so helpless right now. You sure as hell felt it in the hallway, and it keeps lingering in you and you’re not sure why. You couldn’t do anything then, you can’t do anything now…it feels like all the bad things in the world are closing in on you and you just have to let it happen.
“I…I don’t want anyone to die because of me…” your words aren’t quite matching your thoughts, but this is the closest you can get right now.
He pulls back to look at you, brows furrowed. “It’s—it’s not because of you. It’s because of him. Baby, if I were on patrol and saw him grab some other girl like that I’d do the same thing.”
You know that. You know that. But communication seems impossible right now even though it’s the only tool you have to stop things from closing in.
“No, I know that. I know…it’s just…” Things are closing in anyways. Alright, this is happening now. Your eyes start watering and your voice trembles.
“Fuck, baby.” His hand flies to the back of your head, other arm wrapping around your middle, pulling you to him.
You feel a bit silly, crying over the potential death of someone who tried to hurt you, in front of the Red Hood of all people.
“I’m sorry, I—I don’t know. It’s—it’s too many bad things. I can’t…”
“Okay. Okay. It’s okay. I’ll stay here. I’m staying here with you, okay?” You nod into his chest, tears dampening his shirt.
This is a temporary solution, you know that even now. But you think once it expires, it might be easier to accept whatever Jason’s going to do later.
He’s quiet for a few minutes, holding you in his arms as you sway back and forth lightly.
“Will you forgive me if I kill him?” He whispers into your hair.
You roll your eyes but smile nonetheless. “Don’t.”
“Is that a yes?”
You pull back to look him in the eyes, face setting. “I’m getting the feeling you’re going to do something regardless of how this conversation ends.” He says nothing. “Just, please, don’t kill him.”
He holds you tighter and you do the same, laying your head against his chest again. You feel him press a kiss to your head as he takes a deep breath.
You think on it for a moment, figuring it needs saying, “And don’t get in trouble.”
Your neighbor comes home late that night, trudging through the front door with a perpetual frown. He opens the door to his notably unlocked apartment. He drops his bag on the ground with a thump and flicks on the lamp next to the door. He shuts the door and turns the lock when the red elephant in the room pipes up.
“Hey, bud.”
He jumps, spinning around, “Who the fuck—oh, shit.” He freezes the second he sees him, sitting in the armchair across the room. The Red Hood nods, loading the gun in his hand.
Your neighbor stutters, “What—what are you doing here?”
He looks up at him, cocking the gun. “You put your hands on your neighbor, yeah?”
He looks fake-shocked at the accusation. “What? No, I would ne—which neighbor?”
He can’t see it, but Hood’s face drops into a deadpan. “That is really not helping your case.”
Your neighbor eyes the gun nervously.
Hood sighs, “I’m not going to kill you. I’ve been told it’s bad manners to execute someone the first time you meet.” He glances down the nail marks on his arm and steals his jaw. “No. What’s going to happen is you’re going to break your lease and move out. Within the next week.”
The neighbors eyes widen, “A week? Are you insane?”
Hood tilts his head a bit before shaking it, “Nah, you’re right. By tomorrow night.”
“This is my apartment. I live here, I’m not going anywhere. And unless you’re secretly Saul the landlord under there, you can’t do anything about it.” He crosses his arms, clearly feeling very proud of himself. Well, killing him isn’t the only option, is it?
“Yeah, I thought you’d say that.” Hood clocks him hard on the head with the frame of his gun. He goes down quickly and loudly, clutching his head, groaning. “The alternative is getting beaten half to death and hoping whatever hospital you end up at knows what they’re doing.”
Honestly, neighbor boy is pressing his luck as is. Maybe it was a bad idea for Jason to bring the gun.
“Fuck! Fine! I’ll go!” He wails.
Hood kicks his abdomen with the side of his boot, though not nearly as hard as he wanted to. “Shut up. You’ll disturb the neighbors.”
The neighbor groans again, quieter. He mumbles something about Hood being crazy but it gets lost under the grunts of pain.
Hood crouches down next to him, patting him on the head with the barrel of his gun. “Don’t worry, bud. I’ll check up on you. And if I ever see you so much as look in the general direction of another girl I’ll put a bullet in your head. Sound good?”
Your former neighbor drops his head to the ground, hand still clutching the growing swell on his forehead.
1K notes · View notes
intoxicated-chan · 11 months
Note
Oooh how about Yandere Miguel who locks his s/o away in an apartment like place (it's actually really nice) that's hidden somewhere in the spider society headquarters that only he knows about because he's extremely possessive and he's afraid of them getting hurt. Since they are just a regular human being, there's not much they can do about it. When he checks on them he's all loving and sweet but he's still very controlling. Maybe Miles or Gwen accidentally finds them and attempts to rescue them and Miguel gets PISSED.
Don’t Think You Can Escape
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✿ฺ Paring ➳❥ Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader
✿ฺ Summary ➳❥ Miles and Gwen continue to run from the Spiders, but at a dead end, they come across something neither of them knew.
✿ฺ (A/n) ➳❥ Inspired by “Love Taste feat. Jamie Paige & Shiki” by Moe Shop. I’ve got an announcement! Celebrating the movie’s release, I will be releasing my own Miguel O’Hara book! Be on the lookout. Anyways, requests will remain open for a few more days before I close them. You guys have the best ideas!
✿ฺ Word Count ➳❥ 2.6k
✿ฺ Content Warnings ➳❥ Female reader, angst, pet names (Amor, baby), blood, bruising, branding, violence, talk of marriage, threats, death, choking…
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“This way!” Gwen shouted, dodging the incoming webbing from the other Spider members.
Miles followed her closely, following her and taking turns that she thought she was familiar with but it led them to a dead end. His head snapped in the direction of their shouts.
Gwen’s gizmo was tossed a while ago, realizing that there may be a chance of a tracker, she didn’t want to take any chances.
“What now?” MIles heavily panted, their voices getting louder by the second.
She takes a second to think, she places her hand on the wall as support but it lights up. She could hear rumbling on the other side, like something turning. She pounded her fist against the metal wall and it was clear that it was hollow.
“Miles, help me open this.” She said.
“Are you sure?”
“We don’t have any other option.”
“Alright then.”
Miles stood on one side and Gwen on the other, they both used their webbing to force the hidden, metal doors open. Both of them loudly grunt as the doors slowly opened.
“One three.” Miles nodded, “One… Two… THREE!”
The two simultaneously jump in at the same time, practically tackling each other. The doors slammed shut with a loud bang and soon, they could hear other voices up against the door. It made his heart drop, yet he relaxed when the voices dispersed.
Gwen stood up first, taking off her hood and mask to take a good look around, “What is this place?” Miles asked her.
She hesitated in shrugging, “I’m… I’m not sure. I don’t think I saw this place on the map.”
“Didn’t think the gizmo had a map.” He stood as well, “Could it be another sector?”
This time, she shrugged, “It clearly wasn’t labeled, otherwise we’d be caught by now.”
“Okay then, what now?”
Gwen looked forward and into the dark but barely lit tunnel, “We keep moving forward.” She walked into it.
“I’ll follow your lead.” Knowing that Gwen knew the headquarters better than him.
The two walk through the long, narrow hallway. It made Gwen shiver and keep her guard up. But she kept her sights forward, following a light that seemed to be peeking out from under the door.
Their footsteps rang and Miles swears he could hear his heart racing. As much as he enjoyed a break from being chased, he began to worry. What happens now? How will he get out? What about Gwen?
All kinds of questions raced through his head… Was either of them going to get out of here?
“Miles!” Gwen looked back at him, worried, “I know that you’re panicking but I need you to focus, everything will be alright.”
“Will it?” Miles huffed, arms crossed, “You saw how freaked Miguel was. There’s no way out of this, I’m sorry I dragged you into this.”
“Hey, we’re in this together. Okay?”
Miles takes a deep breath, “Okay.”
“Besides, we can think of something when we’re inside.”
Miles stopped in his tracks, “Insid-?” A door. Windows, a few feet from the door, pitch black and barred.
“I think this might be the place Peter was talking about.” Gwen smiled, walking up to the door.
“He knew about this?”
“It’s more like suspected. He saw Miguel disappear a couple of times and believed he had a secret place to get away, this must be it.” Slowly she twisted the doorknob.
Miles reached out and grabbed her wrist, “Then are you sure we should be sneaking into a place where Miguel visits.”
“I said suspected. It’s a chance this may now be it and besides, he’s too busy running around the base looking for us.” She ignored Miles’ protest and opened the door, it was unlocked, “Now that’s suspicious.” She mumbled.
The two enter the room. Both of them were awed.
It was like a normal home, furnished well, like any other home. The home smelled freshly cleaned, but plates and cups were set on the table, like someone was expecting guests. While Gwen looked around the rooms, Miles’ attention was to the photos.
It was Miguel, along with a woman. He followed the array of photos. At first, the woman seemed to be happy but as the photos went on and on, he could see it in her eyes… Fear, fear and more fear.
“I always knew Miguel was crazy but-”
“No.” Gwen immediately retorted.
“Didn’t you see the photos, he’s obviously obsessed with this woman.”
“It can’t be him.”
Miles sighed, “Gwen it’s him. This is probably the home to bring her to the base.”
“That’s the thing, she’s already here.” Gwen pointed to a room, “I saw her when looking around, sleeping soundly, too soundly.” It remained silent between the two.
His head snapped to the direction of the door opening, “Hide!” She harshly whispered, pushing Miles into what seemed to be a guest room, and shoving him into the closet.
Miguel entered the home with a heavy huff, slipping off his mask and his hair puffed up a little. He runs his hand through his hair a couple of times before calling out, “(Y/n)! I’m home!” But all he is met with is silence.
But that’s when he hears the slow footsteps, “Miguel?” You groggily spoke, “You’re home early.”
“Actually, I’m home on time. Did you sleep?” You tiredly nod, “Did you just wake up?” You nod again, “Awe, my poor baby.” He cooed, welcoming you in his arms.
But you’re too tired to push him away, the house was freezing and you needed something warm. You felt one hand come to your neck and his claws lightly dragged over where used to be your-
“Where’s your necklace?” He demanded the second he felt the open skin, “Where is it?” He growled.
“I-I took it off.” You managed to say, scared that he may dig his claws into you.
“Why?” His voice was like a growl, dark and deep.
“Because it was hurting my neck, it left a bruise.” You cowered. Your necklace was more like a choker. It was mainly black but it had red and blue stripes, along with gold ornaments.
It wasn’t because of the pain you took it off, it was because his last name was engraved on it. It made you feel worthless, like someone’s property. Before you took it off, you began pulling off the small gold pieces and then when he wasn’t home, you tore it into pieces. Hopefully telling Miguel that you didn’t need it or that there was no need.
“You should’ve told me sooner.” His voice returned to normal as he released you from his arms.
“But I did.” You mumbled.
“Where is it?”
“One the dresser.” You watch him enter the bedroom and come back a few moments later, the choker in hand.
“Must’ve been hurting you a lot.” Miguel can see little droplets of blood left behind, “Don’t worry about it.”
You let out a sigh of relief.
“I’ll get a new one.” Your heart dropped, “I was thinking about it for a while.”
“Do you think I could go with you?” Your hurriedly asked, “If I can chose a-”
“No.” He sighed, “I said it before and I’ll say it again. You stay here, why can’t you understand that?”
“I’ll stay with you-”
“No!” He shouted, “I’ve given you everything! A home, food, clean clothes! Aren’t you grateful for everything I did for you?!”
Your eyes begin to water, “O-Of course I am!”
“Then why don’t you just listen to why I say no?!”
You jump, “Miguel…” You whimper, “You’re scaring me.”
His blood red eyes soon turned to his beautiful brown ones, they softened, “Perdóname, amor.” (Forgive me, love.) One hand comes to cup your face, “It’s just… It’s dangerous out there, you saw it yourself. Remember?”
“I do…”
“I wouldn’t want to hurt you.”
“...Why would you hurt me?” You begin to panic, “I-I thought you said-!”
“That I wouldn’t hurt you. I mean it, but when it comes to breaking the rules I set, I must do what needs to be done. I’ll just have to cut off your beautiful legs. Breaking them wouldn’t be enough.” He kissed your forehead, “I’ll be back in a couple of hours. I love you.”
His grip on your face tightens when he doesn’t hear the words, “I-I love you too, Miguel.”
It made him smile widely, “Be patient for me, amor. I’ve got a surprise for you.”
And with that, he’s out of the door. Hearing the doors lock, you’re left alone in the empty and freezing house.
You cry on the spot, finally breaking in fear. Your body felt uncomfortably hot, your breathing became staggered and it felt like you were gonna vomit. Your arms wrapped around your body tightly that your nails dug into your sides. Your chest grew right as you fell to the tile floor. Shaking and hyperventilating, your stomach churned as you remembered his words.
“I’ll just have to cut off your beautiful legs… Breaking them wouldn’t be enough.”
Who knows how long you remained on the ground, all you could do was shake. Your chest stung and your heart raced, you were in pain all over again.
“Um, (Y/n)? Was it?” You let out an audible gasp as you saw the two teens in the room.
You pushed yourself off the ground and hurried away from them, “Wait!” Gwen put her hands up, “We’re just here to help. I’m Gwen and this is Miles.”
“Who are you- How did you get in here?!” You choke on your words, wiping the tears from your red eyes.
“We’re just running from the same man.”
You quickly shake your head, “You guys can’t be here!”
“We would’ve left sooner but… We can’t just leave you here.” Miles kneeled in front of you, “Let us help you.”
“Y-You can’t!”
“Yes we can.” Gwen agreed, “We just gotta pack up and get on out of here. I can get that started. Miles, watch her in case Miguel comes back.”
“How did get like this?” Miles asked, “I saw the photos.”
“...I met him after he lost his daughter and I didn’t think it was right for him to try to get into dating so soon but people grieve in different ways. We were supposed to take things slow but… But he talked about marriage and it made me scared. I tried taking a break but he found me. From then on, it went downhill.”
“I always knew he was crazy.” Miles mumbled.
“He’s great at manipulating people, he owns a business.” You responded. Then you heard a thud outside, “Miles, hide.” You push him away, not knowing where he went.
The door opened and in comes Miguel who doesn’t look pleased, “I heard them.” He starts, “No, I heard him.” He stepped closer, the choker nowhere to be seen, “Where is he?”
“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You clear your throat.
“¡No me mientas!” (Do not lie to me!)
“I’m not lying!” You moved back when he reached out to you, “Please, believe me Miguel!”
“Last time I did, you ran out on me! I have every nerve to not believe you.” He pushed you up against the wall, “Where is he?!”
“Leave her alone!” Miles comes around and lands a clean kick, knocking Miguel off of you, “Are you alright?”
“Miles…”
Miles puts on his mask, “Gwen will be right behind you-!” He dodged Miguel’s webbing, “Just run!” Then he charged at Miguel, taking him head on, “Go!”
You got up and rushed out the door, “(Y/n)!” You heard Miguel, “Get back here!”
You run faster. Your bare feet are padding quickly across the cold, metal floor. Then faster and faster until you nearly run into the wall. Whatever hopes you had are nearly gone when you realize that it’s just a dead end.
“(Y/n)!” You heard Gwen, she lands next to you, “I need you to listen to every word. I’m going to open the door and let you out, but it’s impossible for me to go with you. But! There are others out there, they are willing to help you. Just run and I promise you that someone will come for you.”
“What about Miles?” She hands you to the bag she quickly packed.
“I’m heading there once I know you’re out of there.” Using her webbing, she does the same as before, forcing one side of the door open. She grunts loudly, “Go!”
You jump, tumbling on your feet as you hear the door shut. The sound rang through the base and all that was left was silence. Even on the other side of the door. Nothing could be heard.
You stand, looking around. There was not a single person in sight. But you continued walking, walking, and walking… You continued to replay Gwen’s words in your head, not wanting to give up hope. But slowly it died as you continued wandering aimlessly around the base.
“Lonely isn’t it?” You gasp, freezing in place. You didn’t have to turn around to know who it belonged to, “Just like how it’s going to be when you leave. All alone and there is no one to turn to.”
You scoff, keeping your back to him, “I’d rather be alone for the rest of my life than spend one more minute with you.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“Yes I do!”
“Come with me and I’ll forget this ever happened, we’ll have a fresh start. Or you can continue with these foolish games. You know that you’re better with me than without me.” Miguel sticks his hand out for you to take.
For every step you take back, he takes on towards you, “How will I know things would be different?”
“You gotta trust me to know.”
You breath hitched when you felt your back hit the wall. Miguel towered over you with ease, and you hated the look in his eyes. Sorry… You hated how soft and apologetic his eyes looked. It also terrified you.
“Where’s Miles and Gwen?” You ask him now that he’s in front of you, “Where are they?”
“You have the nerve to ask me that right now?”
“I do!” You retorted, “Now where are they?” You demanded.
Miguel sighs, “They are in a place where they won’t bother us nor say anything.”
“You didn’t!”
“It had to be done!”
“You bastard! They were kids!” You dropped the bag and pushed him as hard as you could which had no effect on him, “They’ve done nothing wrong!”
“You weren’t there!”
“So?! That doesn’t give you the right to kill innocent children-!”
Miguel’s hands came around your neck in an instant, you felt the heavy pressure. Panic sets in, trying to breathe, doing anything you could do to get his hands off and breathe. Your eyes rolled back as your vision darkened. Your attempts to kick or push Miguel off fail.
Then he throws you at another wall, the pressure knocks whatever air was left and he watches you have a coughing fit. You’re too weak to even crawl away from him when he kneels down, “Why must you be so difficult? Why don’t you understand? After all these years, you still don’t understand that I am the only person who will ever love you.”
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© 2023 Intoxicated-Chan, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without permission.
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bookshelf-dust · 2 months
Text
baby love, my baby love
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gif by @corrodedcherry
eddie munson x fem!reader
word count: 1,880
warnings: swearing, reader had a not so good day, some hair washing, reader is nude in a non-sexual way, casual intimacy, lots of lovey-dovey things
a/n: hello! i am still very tentatively getting back into writing, but i wanted to write something sweet and comforting and soft and all those things. and eddie is the best provider of all that. this is so cute i almost made myself nauseous. lemme know what you think!! happy reading!!! <333 lots of love
————
“Where’s my girl at?”
Eddie’s voice rings throughout your small apartment, echoing slightly due to it not being fully furnished. His tone is almost giddy, words taking on a little twang after having spent the day working with Wayne. 
You bury your face deeper into your pillow, fighting a smile at the way he speaks to you. From your place on the bed, you hear his keys smack the wall as he hangs them up, hear his boots thudding across the kitchen tiles as he makes his way to you. 
When Eddie appears in the doorway to your shared bedroom, his arms are raised, fingers working to quickly tie his hair up in a knot. His biceps flex with the movement, drawing your eye to his pale skin. A brilliant smile spreads across his face upon seeing you. 
“Hey, bug,” he says.
You flush. You never thought you’d allow someone to call you love bug, let alone any variation of it. You certainly didn’t think you’d like it. It’s who’s saying it that’s converted you.
You’re laying on your stomach, hands crushed under your cheek. You try to smile back at him, but it comes out much less enthusiastic than normal. It’s a very tired gesture. 
Eddie notices, kicking off his shoes and crouching before you. “What’s the matter sweet girl? You’re wearing your outside clothes still, and you look pretty pitiful.”
At least he’s honest.
You blink and let your eyes flutter shut. “Long day. Headache. Upset.”
He brings his hand to your face, brushing his fingers over your temples. “Oh, I’m sorry, bug. I know you just wanna feel all better. Is that it?”
You nod, eyes still closed. He starts to laugh playfully just because of how pitiful you really do look, at how small and scrunched up you’ve made yourself. When he kisses your cheek, you feel his smile against your skin. It makes you beam, despite how you feel. The tingle Eddie’s lips leave behind makes it seem like the first time no matter how long it's been. You’re all soft for him, and there’s no denying it. But hell, he’s the same way. 
“How about…” he trails off, rubbing the tips of his fingers up and down your spine, tickling your lower back where your sweater has ridden up. “How about I take care of you? Run you a bath, for starters? I know you like that.”
Your eyes open, happy to think about how nice it would feel to sink your tired body into a hot basin full of bubbles. “Okay, Teddy.”
“Yeah? C’mere then,” Eddie says gently, holding his hands out to encourage you to sit up. You slowly push yourself away from the mattress, and he easily pulls you to stand. “I’ll get the water warmed up for you.” 
You give him a poor little salute, making him laugh, and then stick your fingers through his belt loop so you don’t have to do as much on the short walk to the bathroom. When you get there, Eddie bends to cut the water on and push the drain plug down. You wrap your arms around his waist and fold yourself against his warm back. You close your eyes once again, hearing him squirt a hefty amount of bubble bath into the tub. You’ll be lucky if he doesn’t flood the bathroom.
The plastic top clicks shut and Eddie rises, grabbing hold of your hands and spinning around in your grip. 
“Don’t like seein’ you all drained, baby,” he says. Eddie’s hands cradle your face, long and pale fingers beginning to rub at your temples. It feels so nice to have that pressure be pushed away, to feel his body so close to yours. At this rate, you’ll forget you even had a headache. 
“Wanna tell me about it?” Eddie asks. “Or do you just want to have a chill night?”
You open your eyes and push up on your toes to kiss his nose. “The latter,” you say. 
He chuckles, knowing you never used that term until you started reading Jane Austen. 
“M’kay, bug. That works for me.” His eyes twinkle mischievously. “You want a kiss? I think you deserve a good one.”
That gets you to practically melt. I fucking love this woman, Eddie thinks. He feels breathless each time you look at him that way. You look at him like he hung the stars, like he is your knight in shining armor. He kisses you in that way that thanks you for making him feel so loved. So cherished.
You thread your hands in Eddie’s hair, fingers pulling at the chunk at the nape of his neck where it’s most sensitive. His mouth is warm against yours. He smiles at your playfulness, breaking away to kiss both cheeks. 
He bends and drags a finger through the water. “It’ll be plenty warm enough in a second, bug.”
You give him a tired thank you squeeze as he presses a kiss to your jaw. 
“Need help undressing?” he inquires, a wolfish grin spreading across his face. 
You gently backhand his stomach, watching as he feigns severe injury. “Perv,” you joke. 
Eddie sits down on the toilet seat lid so that he can be prepared to turn the water off when he deems the tub full enough for you. Really he’d just like to see you surrounded by a huge pile of bubbles for his own amusement, but also because he knows it’ll be the thing to coax that pure, joyous laugh out of you. The sound he’d bottle and keep on his nightstand if he could.
You remove the little bit of makeup you’d been wearing with a cotton pad, sighing in relief to have it all off. You take out your earrings and slip off your rings, setting them in an ashtray on the counter you’ve been repurposing ever since Eddie decided to cut back on his smoking.
You take off each of your socks, one hand gripping the countertop for balance. As you slip your belt off, Eddie finishes preparing your bath and turns to face you. He holds his arms out, ready to collect your dirty clothes and accessories so that he can put them in their rightful places. 
He takes your belt from you only to be cheeky, snapping the thick leather as loud as he can manage. He makes himself laugh. 
You turn to the side when you unbutton your jeans, flushing and shy at his attention even after all this time. Even knowing how beautiful he finds your body. How much he loves how soft you are. After all, your body allows you to live. It allows you to spend time with him, and that is all he’ll ever ask for. It doesn’t matter to him what state your body is in because it is yours. And you are his. 
Eddie smiles watching you shimmy out of your snug jeans. You hand him your pants and t-shirt, now only in your bra and underwear. You don’t give yourself the time to be self-conscious, longing for the hot bath water. You turn and quickly unclasp your bra. Eddie playfully flicks your bum. It always deserves appreciation in his eyes. 
When you hand him the last of your items, he presses the sweetest kiss to your tummy, thumbs rubbing at the indentations left on your chest from your bras underwire, as if he can make them go away just by sheer will. 
“I love you, bug,” Eddie says, looking up at you with those watery doe eyes. His kisses your stomach again.
“I love you same, Teddy. Now let me take my bath. It’s rather chilly in this house, don’t you think? I refuse to freeze.”
Eddie laughs to himself as he walks off, taking your clothes to the hamper and storing your bra and belt elsewhere. He never could’ve imagined a world where preparing a bath for his partner would make him as happy as it does. 
————
Eddie is kneeling on the bathroom floor. Your back is pressed against the side of the tub, and he’s washing your hair. Well, really he’s already given it the scrub and cleanse that it needed, now he’s just trying to make weird shapes out of it. 
After you’d sat in the warm water until your toes pruned without actually bathing, he jokingly offered to do your hair while you washed your body. 
You hadn’t even thought about it. You were enjoying the way the bubbles came up to your chin, the way you were completely encapsulated in the safety of them. The way Eddie sat there on the rug, telling you about his day. About the different things he’d fixed on which cars—nothing you understood in any fashion, but something you always wanted to hear about.
“You could make good money doing this, you know. You’re very talented,” you quip, scrubbing your calf with a washcloth. 
Eddie snorts, kissing your wet shoulder blade. “What? Give head massages?”
You ring out your rag, having completed your washing ritual and made sure everything got the attention it deserves. 
“Mhm. That felt so good.” 
You pull the drain plug up, letting the water out. Eddie stands and acts as though his back is going to give out on him. You quickly turn the shower on, just so you can make sure you got all the conditioner out of your hair and feel completely clean. Eddie has never done this rinsing routine after a bath, but loves to see you do your little happy dance when you’re all clean and wrapped up in a towel.
He holds out a hand as you step over the rim of the tub, bowing for added effect. “How was your bath, m’lady?”
You lead the way out of the bathroom, on a search for pajamas. “I’d say it was the best bath I’ve ever had the pleasure of taking, good sir.”
You hug your fuzzy towel to your chest, pushing up on your tiptoes to kiss Eddie’s full lips. He blushes at the eye contact you’re giving him. He knows how it makes you nervous, but getting to have all of your attention like that makes him tingly.
“Thank you for helping me, Teddy.”
“Anything for you, sweetheart.” 
You turn to the side, gripping a round, wooden handle and pulling open your top dresser drawer. Eddie kisses your cheek. Sometimes you think Eddie’s kisses are lifesaving. They’ve surely contributed to your stability. They’re healing. And so is the way he cares for the people he loves. The way he so effortlessly does things just because he only wants to see you happy.
Eddie ends up picking out your pajamas while you pick out his. You’re in your own bottoms, but one of his Iron Maiden t-shirts. You told him you should match, so he pointed you in the direction of another, and you made sure to choose pants for him that had red in them, just like yours. 
Before you can sit down on your shared bed, Eddie takes your hand and leans down to whisper in your ear. His chin brushes your jaw, lips parting in a bright grin before the words ever leave his mouth. 
“Now, what do you think about going to get milkshakes?”
————
please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33
note: none of the gifs or images i use are mine! i get most of my images from pinterest or here, and gifs from about the same. please let me know if i ever don’t credit someone properly!
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rockettothestars222 · 2 months
Text
Summary : After the battle with Adam, Alastor disappeared. Everyone was sure he was dead, but you knew better than that. You find him injured and vulnerable in his broken down radio tower, and decide to give him a hand with his wounds.
Tags : GenderNeutral!reader, reader is shorter than Al, soft!Alastor, sorta, fluff, lots of fluff, hurt/comfort, Alastor is losing it
Notes : My first Tumblr one shot! Hopefully this isn’t too OOC, but writing a character who hides any sign of real emotion being vulnerable is difficult. Enjoy!
Word Count : 2,418
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——————
You breathed, Hell’s fiery air stinging your lungs as you looked around at the death and destruction that surrounded you. You look back over your shoulder, Charlie’s quiet sniffles taking your attention. Lucifer was knelt in front of her, his hand brushing her cheek, a weak attempt at comforting her after her life’s dream was just destroyed. You frowned, your brow creasing together as you felt a hand on your shoulder. Looking up, your gaze me with Angel Dust’s.
“You did good out there,” he smiles down at you, an excited squeal coming from the pig in his opposite arms. You muster a strained grin, but his fades. “Still sucks though, huh?”
You nod, dropping your grin, “Yeah, still sucks. I can’t believe it’s all gone,” you look away from the arachnid, your eyes casting over the destroyed hotel once again. Angel nods, his arm drifting around your shoulder and giving you a squeeze, the best, and really the only, form of comfort he knows how to provide.
“We’ll rebuild it,” he squeezes you again, before releasing you and approaching Charlie and the rest of the group. You follow behind, though your gaze remains astray, scanning the battleground. Looking for any sign of someone alive. You know deep down who you were looking for.
Alastor, the overlord you’d grown to call a friend.
Not everyone would consider him that, but you were an optimist. You hoped he’d consider you the same. No one in Hell would be as kind as he had been to you without considering you some sort of friend. Or, well, as kind as an overlord like him could be. And everyone was convinced he was gone, but you weren’t that naive. Alastor, if faced with death or fleeing, would flee. He was snarky and a bit egotistical, sure, but he wasn’t an idiot.
“Uhm, hey, I’m going to get see if I can find any of my stuff out here. Maybe some of it is salvageable,” you call to the rest of the group, stepping closer to the mess that used to be your home. The ground cracked beneath you as you stepped across the rubble. Charlie, who’d seemingly made her peace with the tragedy that had occurred, looked to you, rising to her feet.
“Do you want any help?”
“No, no, I got it,” you were lying to your teeth, but you had to see if he was out there. She looked at you with sympathetic eyes, walking closer and wrapping you in a tight hug. Your arms wrap around her waist, squeezing her close.
“Be careful out there, okay? I don’t want you getting hurt on anything. We’re going to go and get something to eat, try and relax a bit before we start rebuilding tomorrow. Text me when you’re done, you can meet us out there, okay?” She pulls away from you, her hands still resting on your shoulders as yours fell to your sides.
“I’ll be careful, I promise,” you assure, smiling as the taller girl pulls away from you fully, waving you goodbye as she approaches the rest of the group. You watch as they leave, before turning back to the rubble, that strained smile of yours dropping. You rubbed your cheeks. How did Alastor do that all the time?
And with that, you were off, wandering as your eyes scanned the area, reminiscing as you came across bits and pieces of the place you’d called home for the past 6 months. Broken pieces of Sir Pentious’ old machinery make your brows furrow together, a feeling that you could only describe as grief swallowing your thoughts for a brief moment, your chest tightening. You stared at that machine for a good few minutes before tearing your gaze away, trying to look at anything else.
And there it was.
A good 30 feet from you was Alastor’s radio tower. Some of the windows broken, dented, and on its side, but for the most part it was still in tact. You began to walk towards it, without much thought. He’d spent a lot of time there before you’d all started preparing for the extermination. He was insistent it was the best part of the hotel.
The closer you got, the more hesitant you became. If the trail of blood in the dirt wasn’t off putting enough, the green glow that was emitting from tower surely was. But these two things sealed one thing in your mind: Alastor was alive. Of course he was, you’d known that. But that small strand of doubt was planted in your head by the others.
You walk around the broken and dented structure, before finding that the hatch inside was already open. You drew a final breath before pulling yourself up and inside. As you heaved yourself into the tower, you were met with something hard to look at. Alastor had his back turned to you, one arm over his chest, one arm helping him hold himself upright against the control panel of the tower. His overcoat had been thrown to the floor, it was a rare sight to see him without it. You frowned, pushing off of the floor and standing. You wanted to move closer, but weren’t sure you could do so without startling the overlord. If you’d managed to get this close without him noticing, you knew he must be very deep in thought.
“Alastor?” You tried, your voice soft. Even so, Alastor’s whole body stilled, his head turning sharply to look at you, his horns and shoulders growing two times their normal size. He had a wild look in his eye, but seemed to calm as he realized it was you, his body relaxing, and returning to its original position. His expression had turned sour, despite the constant smile.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he replied, his voice hoarse as he looked away. You frowned, stepping closer, avoiding the pools of blood on the ground.
“Alastor, we thought you were dead,” your voice was back to its normal volume.
The static sound, that was nearly a constant whenever Alastor was near, seemed to grow louder as his entire body span to face you, almost as if he were going to get angry, but he stumbled, both of his hands going back and gripping the control panel behind him. Now, you could see the giant gash across his chest, blood seeped into his shirt. Your eyes trailed from the bottom of his wound, up to meet his eyes. There was something behind them that you couldn’t quite place.
There was a beat of silence before you piped up again.
“He really got you, huh?” You point out the obvious, walking closer. Alastor tried to straighten himself, only using one hand to keep himself upright as the other found its way back to covering the wound.
“It is nothing that I can’t handle,” he assured, pressing his arm closer to his body. You stopped in front of him, looking into his eyes as you placed your hand on his. He wretched away, his rear pressing fully against the control panel, his hand sliding back. “Don’t.”
“Alastor,” you began, but he cut you off.
“Perhaps you misunderstood, I am FINE,” he growls, pushing himself away and walking around you, you turn to follow him with your eyes. “He may have hit me but I’m alive. Of COURSE I am. I mean, if I weren’t what would people think?”
Your brows furrowed, “what are you talking about, Al?”
“I have been a wonder to everyone since I manifested here, if I died for the princess of Hell and her low life sinners, I would be regarded as some,” he paused, clutching his chest as he turned away from you. “Altruist.”
He spat the word like it was the worst thing to ever leave his lips.
“I would be regarded at the ‘Oh so powerful Radio Demon who DIED for a chance at a redemption that isn’t even POSSIBLE.”
You walked closer to him, placing a hesitant hand on the small of his back. He glanced over his shoulder, and your expression softened.
“Alastor, no one is expecting you to die for us. All I want from you right now is. For you to let me help you,” you searched his face for any sign of agreement, but he was nearly impossible to read. A sigh escaped him. “You’re really hurt, Al.”
“I know,” he murmured, his ears flicking back as he turned to face you. He walked back towards the control panel, you trailing behind. You assumed him accepting that he was hurt was the closest thing you’d get to him saying, ‘I need help.’
“You should sit. It’ll be easier that way,” you looked up at Alastor, who was avoiding your gaze like the plague. You assumed he was ashamed of the situation he was in. He sat on the edge of the counter, snapping his fingers. A roll of bandages and pads of gauze appearing in your hands. You sat them down on the control panel beside him.
“I could have done this on my own, my dear,” he looks down at your hands as they reach for the buttons on his shirt, gently unbuttoning the first few.
“I’m sure you could have,” you murmur, though not fully paying attention to his words. You reached the last few buttons, pulling his shirt open. You could feel your face flushing as the his undershirt slipped off of his shoulders. It was a little unbelievable that the big bad Radio Demon was allowing this, but you supposed coming face to face with a second death was enough to allow a miracle.
Bending down slightly at your waist to reach better, you take some of the gauze, pressing it firmly to his wound. Alastor took a sharp inhale, his ears shifting back further than they already had been. Your frown grew deeper as you looked up at him, your free hand taking his, gently stroking your thumb across his skin.
“Alastor? Is this okay?” Your eyes scan his face, that somehow managed to display pain all while wearing that signature smile.
“It’s fine. I don’t want to hear a word about this when you’re done,” he winced, squeezing your hand as you began to wrap the bandages around the bottom half of his wound. You rolled your eyes, nodding.
“Not like anyone would believe me. I mean, you? Hurt? Impossible, right?” You pressed another piece of gauze to him, causing his claws to dig into your skin. It didn’t break, but it stung a bit. You tried your best not to show it — however hard that was — you didn’t want him to think that this, whatever this is, wasn’t okay.
“That’s not what I’m talking about,” he looked down at you, his brow creasing. You both fell silent, the crackling of radio static tickling your ears. You wrapped the rest of his wound in silence, your free hand grazing down the bandages, just barely making contact.
“You know,” you start, rising to your normal posture, finally removing your hand from his. “Letting someone help you doesn’t make you any less powerful.”
Another beat of silence as you grabbed the hem of his shirt, pulling it back up over his shoulders. His hands, in one swift motion, grabbed yours and pulled you between his legs, closer to his chest. You looked up at him, your eyes widening as they met his. Just inches away from your own was The Radio Demon’s face. His eyes were pitch black, red radio dials replacing his pupils. His neck was contorted, smile stretched further than you imagined could be comfortable.
“You. Don’t. Understand,” he growled, his breath hot against your face. You tried your best to remain composed, not looking away from him as his grip on you tightened. “You are not ME. You could not possibly imagine the position I am in because of that DAMNED hotel.”
“You’re right.”
Alastor’s grip loosened immensely, his neck snapping back to be in it’s anatomically correct shape. His eyes fluttered a few times before returning to normal, he looked almost confused by your agreement. He stayed silent, even his static flushing to barely a hum.
“Alastor, I don’t know what it’s like in your shoes right now. But if you ever wanted to TELL me what it’s like, I’d be here to listen,” you, gently, squeezed his hands in yours. Alastor’s eyes scanned every inch of your face, over and over and over. Looking for any sign that you were going to use this vulnerability against him. To hurt him. To knock him down from the tower he’d built for himself. But there was none. Your expression held nothing but genuineness.
He briefly considered telling you everything that was troubling him, briefly thought about scaring you away so he didn’t have to face you, and though still brief, his thoughts lingered on the consideration of pulling you closer and thanking you for treating him like he wasn’t the monster he knew he truly was. But he did none of those things. He didn’t have time to unbox what all of those thoughts said about him. He just smiled down at you, a real smile, his left hand caressing your face.
“Thank you for helping me, my dearest,” Alastor’s voice had returned to its normal chipper tone, but it didn’t seem as fake as usual. Not when it was directed at you. A grin of your own blossomed across your face as you placed your hand on his, leaning your cheek into his hand. You turned you face a bit, placing your lips against his palm for a short moment, all while never breaking eye contact. If you didn’t know better, you’d of sworn a light blush crossed Alastor’s cheeks.
“Anytime, Al.”
Alastor cleared his throat, his ears flicking back into an upright position as he pulled his hands away from you and pushed himself up and off of the control panel. He straightened his posture re-buttoning his bloody and tethered undershirt. You quickly grabbed his overcoat so he wouldn’t try to bend over and grab it himself, and ushered back over to him. He took it from your arms, putting it on and dusting it off as if that would mend its holes and cleanse it of the blood that stained it.
“Well, I should be going now,” Alastor approached you, taking your hand for a final time and placing a kiss to your knuckles. “You are truly a diamond in the rough, darling. I’ll be seeing you soon.”
“Wait, where are you—” but before you could complete that question, he disappeared in a flash of green light and dark smoke. You blinked, your face flushing as you recalled what had just happened. You were almost unsure it was real.
You’d have to tell Charlie the new hotel was going to need a radio tower.
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steddiealltheway · 3 months
Text
Eddie’s having a strange day.
For once in his life, he’s not being treated like absolute shit by all the dumbass jocks of Hawkins High School.
In fact, they’re not even engaging with him at all. They’re looking at him, but they’re just not saying anything. Even when Eddie pretends to drop his stuff in front of Billy Hargrove, he doesn’t even laugh at him.
And while this should feel like the best day of Eddie’s life, he has an underlying feeling that this is all very very wrong.
Then, he knows the universe has decided to fuck with him or something when Tommy Hagan meets him at his “business transaction” table and instead of buying anything, he leans in and whispers, “Meet me at skull rock after school today.” And fucking plants a quick kiss to his cheek.
And hey. What the hell was that?
Yes, he’s seen the way Tommy looks at Steve Harrington to know there’s no way that there’s not a part of him that wants him in a way that is definitely not platonic.
But Eddie isn’t Steve Harrington (who makes every guy feel a little bit gay) he’s Eddie Munson. And this does not happen to him.
But, he reasons with himself that, hey, maybe he’s in a coma or something and this is his only chance to see what life would be like if he was… liked? That doesn’t seem to be the right word, but he doesn’t know how else to describe it.
Or maybe the universe decided he needs a break from his horrible second senior year.
Doubtful.
Nonetheless, he decides what the hell, why not go to skull rock and see what Tommy Hagan wants, despite everything in his being screaming THIS IS A BAD IDEA!!!
And a few feet into the forest, he hears the quick crunching of leaves and sticks as something approaches him and is nearly startled out of his skin by Steve Harrington of all people.
“You need to leave,” Steve pants out.
Eddie glances around and wonders if this is real.
“Eddie, I’m serious. You need to leave. Right now.”
Eddie crosses his arms. “Why?”
Steve sighs and runs his hands over his face. “Oh my god you remind me of Henderson. Okay. The basketball team is planning to ambush you because Billy thought it was a good idea or something. I don’t know. I overheard it in the locker room. And you have to leave.”
Eddie takes a moment to let it all sink in. And yeah, it adds up with the rest of the day, but also… “Why should I trust you?”
“Huh?”
“You’re Steve Harrington. You’re on the basketball team. What if you’re part of the trap?”
Steve shakes his head. “I’m not really friends with any of them.” His head whips around when a cracking noise sounds out a good distance away. “Let’s go,” Steve says, grabbing Eddie’s hand and tugging him away.
Eddie plants his feet and stays in place. “You’re going to have to prove to me in some way that you’re not in on this.”
Steve runs a hand through his hair and pinches his lips together. “I don’t know how!”
“Then tell me why you’re going against all of them to help me.”
Steve’s brows furrow for a moment before he puts his hands on his hip. “Because I’ve been on the receiving end of a Billy attack and that was before he lost the little control he had over his sort of sister that like kept him weirdly grounded or something. But ever since, he’s been itching for a fight, okay? And he doesn’t hold back. He could kill you.”
Half of it doesn’t make sense to Eddie, but something about Steve’s tone makes him believe that he’s telling the truth. But there’s still a small part of him that wants to doubt him.
“Kiss me.”
“What?” Steve asks, exasperated.
“If you’re in on it, you won’t be able to. Tommy barely even got my cheek-”
“He did what?”
“And,” Eddie continues, ignoring Steve, “if you’re not in on it, you’ll know that this means literally nothing to the both of us, and I’ll run back to my van immediately.”
Steve stares at him for a second as if he’s out of his mind - which he is, really - before stepping closer and asking, “You’ll really leave? Straight away? No poking around the woods because you’re curious?”
“Yeah,” he confirms with a nod. He smiles at Steve’s hesitation and says, “So, you are in on i-”
Only for Steve to quickly close the distance between them, weaving his hands into Eddie’s hair and pulling him close as he kisses him deeply, lingering for a few moments before pulling away, breath coming out heavier than before.
They both stare at each other for a moment, neither of them saying a word until another crunching sound appears closer than before and a voice calls out, “Eddie?”
Steve takes Eddie hand and runs, only for Eddie to pull him the other way toward his van, still slightly not trusting him although he’s pretty sure Steve’s tongue may have grazed the inside of his mouth. But that’s a thought for a later day.
As soon as the van is in sight, Eddie lets out a deep breath, happy to see it’s untouched before he runs and unlocks it, yelling for Steve to get in before starting it and taking off.
Once he’s on the road, he turns to Steve and asks, “You think we lost them?”
Steve nods and sighs, “I hope they don’t find my car though.”
“Where is it?” Eddie asks, quick to turn around when Steve directs him.
He’s not far from where Eddie was parked before, but with the risk of being discovered, Eddie is quick to stop his car and tell Steve, “Go!”
But Steve takes a moment and looks back at him, and Eddie’s suddenly scared that maybe he read this all wrong and Steve really is in on the trap. But then Steve asks, “And what if I asked you to convince me to go?”
It takes Eddie a second to register what the hell he’s talking about before he’s glancing back at the trees, searching for any movement before leaning over and breathing out, “I have got to be in a coma or something.”
There’s a brief sharp pain in his arm that has him yelping before he registers that Steve pinched him. “Maybe not,” Steve says, leaning closer to close the distance between them again, deepening the kiss in the short amount of time they have and quickly pulling away, leaving Eddie desperate for more.
“I’ll see you around. Thanks for listen to me,” Steve says before hopping out of the van and running to his car.
Eddie takes a moment to breathe before realizing he needs to get the hell out of there, and he quickly speeds off wondering if this is real life.
-:-:-:-:-:-
The next day, things go back to the way they used to be, but any time Tommy sees him, he turns an ugly shade of red which is accompanied by laughs of, “Eddie Munson stood you up.”
It’s nice at first, but two periods in, he’s already had enough of the dumb jabs people take at him until someone knocks a notebook out of his hands and it goes flying toward a nice blue pair of Adidas.
Eddie bends down at the same time as the other person does, and they both grab the book. When Eddie glances up, he makes eye contact with none other than Steve who gives him a small, private smile.
“Harrington,” Tommy says in an accusatory tone that has Steve frowning before standing back up, leaving the notebook in Eddie’s hand.
As he walks away, he turns back and gives him an apologetic smile that makes Eddie wonder if this is what Romeo and Juliet felt like.
The thought makes his nose wrinkle up before he stands up and goes about his day as if he doesn’t know what it’s like to be kissed by Steve Harrington. And a big part of him hopes that maybe he’ll get another weird day where Steve Harrington plays hero for him. And another part of him hopes that if he really is in a coma, he’ll wake up with Steve waiting for him on the other side.
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nereidprinc3ss · 2 months
Text
light of the morning
in which spencer sneaks into bau!reader's hotel room and they share a little more than just the bed
18+ (smut) warnings/tags: softdom!spence x sub reader, munch!spence, unprotected piv sex (dont do that), creampie (hate that word btw) praise, mentions of having to be quiet because morgan is right next door LOL, fluffy, established co-workers/friends with benefits, soooo idiots in love a/n: here is the promised smut. i am literally kicking my feet and twirling my hair and giggling and blushing at my own writing. I'm gonna have a freak out. requests are open like my legs
It’s late when the knock finally comes. Late enough that you’re dozing on the bed above the covers. 
It takes you a moment to reorient yourself—you’re rubbing your heavy eyes when you finally get the door. 
"Hi."
"Hey," says Spencer, hands awkwardly shoved into his pajama pants pockets. It’s funny, really. He never gets any better at this. 
You step aside and he enters the room, looking around as you close and relock the door. 
"Did I wake you?"
"How could you tell?"
"You’re in pajamas. And you look tired. I mean—you don’t look bad. You never look bad, I just meant… you don’t look tired but you’re not—I didn’t mean to—"
"Relax," you yawn, putting him out of his misery. "I was joking. I know I look tired." You glance at the digital clock on the nightstand. "It’s late. We have to be up early tomorrow."
"Yeah, I got, uh, sidetracked. Sorry."
He was reading. If it was anyone else, you'd be offended--but a sinkhole could open up under Spencer's feet and he probably wouldn't notice if he was absorbed in a book.
You shrug, a knowing smile lifting the corner of your mouth. 
"It’s fine. But I don’t know if tonight is a good night. I really am exhausted."
His eyebrows dart up. 
"That’s fine. That’s totally fine. I’ll just, uh—"
When you don’t move from in front of the door, he pauses, unsure. You bite the inside of your cheek, studying his rangy frame and choice of clothing. Blue pajama pants, slippers, grey CalTech zip up hoodie. It feels wrong to describe a 6'1 man as adorable, but that’s how he looks in his sleep clothes. There’s a very real chance, you find yourself thinking, that you are the only member of the BAU to ever see him in something other than slacks and a button-down. He looks so cozy that you kind of really want him in your bed even if he’s not doing anything but sleeping. The invitation slips out before you can think too hard about it. 
"You could… stay, anyway, if you want?"
His mouth parts slightly, and those eyebrows raise again. There’s a moment of awkward silence and you are very much beginning to regret your offer, wondering if you somehow violated the sanctity of your co-workers/friends with benefits situtationship. Clumsily you try to backtrack. 
"Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, you can—"
"No, no! You didn’t, I just don’t want you to feel obligated to invite me to stay in your room. I’m right across the hall, I can go back if you want me to."
You smile awkwardly, silent relief replacing the brief anxiety. 
"It’s fine. It’s not like we haven’t shared a bed before." And not like you wouldn’t have ended up doing it tonight anyway, if things had gone as originally intended.
He chuckles, looking to the floor and nodding. The blush on his face does not go unnoticed by you. "Fair enough."
It’s incredibly endearing how nervous he still gets after six months of this little arrangement. 
"Do you wanna get your stuff, or…"
"No, that’s okay. I’ll just go back early tomorrow. The chances of someone seeing me leave your room are significantly higher if I do it so soon after entering."
You squint, unable to tell if he’s fucking with you or if that’s an actual statistically sound probability. And then you realize, blissfully, that you don’t really care. 
"Okay, well. Make yourself comfortable. I’m just going to brush my teeth."
Once you’re enclosed in the bathroom, hotel vanity lights blinding you as you brush, you find that there is a jittery sort of apprehension buzzing in your chest. But that’s silly. As you yourself pointed out, the two of you have shared a bed many times over the past few months. But the sleeping together is always a byproduct of the sleeping together. Never have you shared a bed in a completely decent, virtuous, strictly non-sexual manner. It’s always been a matter of convenience—less bother if he doesn’t have to worry about sneaking back into his room in the middle of the night when you’re both exhausted. Or maybe that’s just what you’ve been telling yourselves. 
You rinse your mouth out and exit the bathroom, flicking off the light and finding that Spencer has indeed made himself comfortable. The hotel room is dark and he’s already under the covers, fiddling with his phone. 
"What time should I set the alarm for?" He asks, looking over at you as you crawl into bed, drawing the covers over yourself. "I was thinking 6:23. That should give me enough time to—"
"Sounds perfect," you affirm, wiggling under the blanket as you get comfortable. He schedules the alarm and sets his phone on the bedside table, dousing the room in complete darkness. Your eyes stay open despite, waiting for them to adjust. A few moments of utter silence and stillness pass, and you can tell Spencer is completely stiff next to you. 
"Spencer."
“Yeah,” he answers immediately. Like he’s even more wired about this whole situation than you are. 
"You know you don’t have to avoid touching me at all costs, right? I’m not a leper."
He looses a nervous laugh. 
"I know. We’ve just never really done this."
You frown at the darkness.
"We’ve definitely slept in the same bed before."
"Yeah, but… this feels different."
That, you can’t argue with. Can friends with benefits share a bed just to be near each other? Does that blur some line? And why does it feel more intimate than the sex? 
Screw it. If there is one thing you don’t want your relationship with Spencer to be, it is uncomfortable. Uncertain, you can work with. But not uncomfortable. You reach for him, hand sliding under the duvet—and find his hand already waiting for yours. 
"I don’t think it’s that different," you lie, interlacing your fingers together slowly. 
"Prolonged physical non-sexual contact does have measurable health benefits…" the words are murmured, like the moment is fragile and he doesn’t want to shatter it. 
"Can’t argue with the facts," you breathe, trying to modulate the shakiness of your voice. But you have a feeling you’re doing about as good of a job at concealing your nerves as he is. He shifts.
"Can I…"
"Yeah."
Your heart is pounding as he slips one arm under your neck and the other around your waist, pulling you close. Instinctually you curl into him, slinging your top leg over him as you’ve done before, but always dismissed as post-sex brain chemicals making you feel all warm and fuzzy. A neurological reaction that is so solidly scientific, neither of you ever questioned it. But it feels bigger now. 
He exhales as you settle against each other—a sound of relief that mirrors your own. He’s so warm, so safe as he envelops you, physically and sensorially. In such close proximity, so clear-headed, you notice each layer of his scent. Toothpaste, lavender, vetiver, detergent. You sort of feel like a creep, but you can’t deny how comforting it is. Nor can you deny the pirouette your heart does when he begins minutely rubbing your back, like he’s not even thinking about it. 
"Goodnight," you whisper into his shirt. 
"Goodnight," he whispers back. 
You fall asleep pretty quickly after that. 
------------------------------
It’s unclear what wakes you up—maybe it’s the blue-grey dawn light filtering in through the filthy window (doubtful, it’s still mostly dark) or maybe it’s the blinking green digital clock on the nightstand. 5:02 AM. Your alarm will go off in an hour and 21 minutes.
Sometime in the night you shifted, turning over in your sleep, but Spencer is still holding you close. The arm slung so casually over your waist is slightly domineering, but you manage to rotate again and face him once more. Mere inches away from his face you can see every detail. His expression is so peaceful, it makes your heart ache. 
But you’re just friends. 
Perhaps he felt you moving, because his eyes flutter open and you watch as they flood with consciousness. He takes you in, takes in his arm over your waist. For a split second you’re nervous he’ll pull away. 
"What time is it?" His voice is scratchy with sleep. 
"Five."
"Why are you awake? We have over an hour til the alarm goes off."
"Sometimes waking up early is okay."
His eyes flicker between your own, and momentarily you’re paralyzed as you realize this is a limbo state for the two of you in which you’ve never operated. You don’t know what’s acceptable. You don’t know what to do. Being close to him feels so good, that the idea of separating hurts. But you don’t want to make him uncomfortable, or—
He leans forward and kisses you softly. In the blue light of dawn, rather than frenzied and hidden in the dark, a desperate tear of clothes and teeth and hands—it’s almost freeing. All the anxiety you were feeling just seconds ago begins to melt. 
Friends. 
"You looked anxious," is his whispered answer after he pulls away a moment later, like a kiss is the simplest remedy in the world. He brushes a lock of hair behind your ear. "We should go back to sleep."
"I don’t want to go back to sleep."
The corner of his mouth twitches as he studies you.  
"No? What do you want?"
Emboldened by your mutual indiscretion, it’s your turn to kiss him. You feel him smile against your lips, hand finding the back of your neck and raking up through your hair to pull you closer. 
The delirium of sleep seems to have softened you, filed down the rough edges of your boundaries and kicked away the lines in the sand. What’s a kiss or two when you’ve just woken up? A small, innocuous display of affection while you’re still barely conscious. Nobody could fault either of you for that. People don’t think clearly when they’ve just been asleep.
So what if your lips part against his, and his other hand finds its way under your shirt to stroke the bare skin of your waist and hips? So what if you hitch that leg over him again and press closer?
Spencer breaks the kiss, still ghosting over your lips. 
"I thought it wasn’t a good night?"
"It’s not night time anymore, is it, genius?"
You sneak another kiss, nipping his bottom lip gently as you pull away. 
Instead of whatever array of responses you were expecting, Spencer smiles slightly, eyes almost sparkling in the faint light. The hand on your hip moves to your face, gently thumbing across your cheek. He begins to say something, and stops himself—biting his lip to hold back the words. 
"What?" you ask, heart dropping. Illusion fracturing. 
"I was just—" he begins, pausing for a moment before the words all come out in a rush. "I was just going to tell you how beautiful you are, but I don’t know if that’s something I should say, or if it would feel too… I don’t know…"
He trails off. A rare instance in which he doesn’t have the words. 
You do. Intimate. Real. Romantic. And he’s right, it does feel too much like all of those things. But that doesn’t mean you don’t like it, perhaps more than is strictly good for you. 
"It’s fine. Thank you."
He continues chewing on his lip for a moment. 
"Did I just ruin the mood?"
"No," you laugh, "not at all."
"Thank god," he sighs, surging forward again. 
"Since when do you thank god?" You manage between kisses. 
He moves to press his lips to your jaw and down your neck. 
"Do you want me to talk about the historical and cultural transition of religious expressions into ubiquitous secular colloquialisms right now?"
"Kind of," you breathe.
"No you don’t," he murmurs against your neck as his hands find the hem of your shirt. "You want me to take your clothes off."
Well, he’s not wrong there. 
You help him tug the shirt over your head before leaning back into the pillows as he situates himself over you and lavishes more kisses down your neck and collarbones, pausing to suck a mark only when he knows it’s low enough to be covered by your clothing later. 
You gasp when his lips brush over your nipple, before running his tongue over the sensitive skin. He glances up at you, and though his mouth is occupied, you can see the humor in his eyes. He loves how sensitive you are—how easy it is to get a reaction out of you. 
Of course, you continue to prove him right when he takes the other into his mouth, trying to hold back your little whimpers as he darts his tongue over the peak. Maybe somebody else wouldn’t hear them, but Spencer does. He’s hyper attuned to the sounds you make. Something of a catalogue has begun to form in the back of his mind; he knows exactly what each noise means and how to get them out of you. 
Once satisfied, he moves to press a kiss to your sternum. 
"You’re gonna be quiet for me, right?" Another kiss above your bellybutton. "Because Morgan is sleeping right on the other side of that wall, and we don’t want to wake him up."
"I’ll be quiet," you promise, somewhat breathlessly. Spencer’s mouth trails lower until he’s pulling your shorts down your legs, leaving you completely naked. He tosses them somewhere on the floor and hooks your legs over his shoulders. 
"Good." He plants one last kiss to your thigh and the next one lands right between your legs. 
You regret the need to be silent almost as soon as he drags his tongue over your clit. It’s not like the two of you have ever had the privilege of making a lot of noise, as the hotel rooms are always so close to each other, but it doesn’t make it any easier. 
Instead you opt to rake your hands through his hair and try to take deep breaths. But he knows exactly what you like—he knows starting light and slow, teasing around your most sensitive spot will work you up to the brink of insanity, just like he knows gentle circles make your back arch and elicit the prettiest little moans. 
"More," you beg, and the hands wrapped around your thighs rub soothingly, reassuring you that if you can just be patient you’ll get what you want. 
He takes your aching clit into his mouth, sucking lightly and you’re forced to clap a hand over your mouth, muffling the sob of pleasure you can’t hold back. Spencer keeps it up until you’re practically riding his face, teasing your dripping entrance with the tip of his tongue when you get too close. 
"Fuck, please, Spence," you whisper through your fingers, hips rutting in your desperation. Somehow it always ends up like this—with him in charge and you begging. Not that you have a problem with it, of course. 
He hums into you, and if the way his tongue moves back to circling your clit with newfound fervor is any indication, is apparently satisfied with your entreaty. 
You gasp and try to control your breathy moans, but his mouth feels so good on you that your vision is going out and you’re losing touch with reality ever so slightly. You use the last of your brain power to bite down on the back of your wrist, hoping it adequately muffles the noises you make as you come on Spencer’s tongue and he greedily continues lapping at you. There’s really no way of knowing—your ears are ringing anyway. 
When you come to a moment later he’s peppering kisses on your thighs, rubbing your hips gently. 
"So pretty," he murmurs, climbing back up so your lips can meet again. "Everything about you is pretty."
You paw at his shirt, signaling that you want it off as you moan at the taste of yourself on his tongue, feel your slippery arousal staining the kiss. Spencer helps you, sitting up briefly to unzip his hoodie and pull off his shirt. 
You’re the one to drag him back down, and you notice that he pulls the covers back over the both of you in a sweet gesture he probably didn’t even think about. 
"Need you to fuck me," you beg, reaching down to try and undress him further. 
"So crude. What happened to my nice, sweet girl?" He mumbles against your neck, but helps you with his pants anyway. 
"You must have me confused with someone else."
"Doubtful."
You don’t have much time to consider what that could mean before he’s running the head of his cock over your clit and you’re gasping into his mouth, saying please like it’s the only word you know. 
"There she is," Spencer croons, slipping inside you slow enough for you to feel every inch but quick enough for it to expel all the air from your lungs. Once he’s opened you all the way up, impossibly deep and close, you’re seeing stars, barely breathing. His head has dropped to your shoulder but now he drags his lips up your neck and jaw. "We okay?"
It’s been a while, you realize, since that last case in Maine. He always takes some getting used to. Hardly able to think around the pressure of his cock you nod, trying to string together a few words. 
"Fuck, I need a second." The words come out choked, but you manage. Spencer rubs your hip, his lips brushing yours as he speaks. 
"Relax, sweetheart. I don’t want to hurt you."
He curses to himself, dropping his head momentarily. You’re so fucking soft, and warm, and perfect, he can’t think straight. But he has to try because he has to take care of you. 
"Spence," you gasp, failing to verbally communicate the intensity of the physical sensation. 
"I know, baby," comes his sympathetic coo. "You know you can take me. Deep breaths."
"Mhm," you squeak, trying to take follow his directions and soften your muscles. Spencer keeps rubbing soothingly over your hips, stomach, whatever he can get his hands on, really, pressing kisses all over your face and telling you how good you are, how perfect you feel for him. After a few moments he feels you fluttering around him and experimentally pulls out halfway, before pushing back in equally as slowly. Your jaw drops as he begins to leisurely fuck you, arms wrapping around his back. He gets deeper than you expect every time, rubbing you raw and stretching you out in the most delicious way. 
"Perfect, baby. Such a good listener, did exactly what I asked."
You cry out when he begins fucking you impossibly deeper, but still so slow and sweet.
"You feel so fucking good for me," he groans. "This is what you were made for, huh?" You agree enthusiastically, eyes fluttering shut. 
"Only for you."
Just three words—but he wasn’t expecting to like hearing you say that as much as he does. A strong desire to possess you overtakes him—one that he’ll probably have the decency to feel guilty about later, but for now feels fucking fantastic and intoxicating. 
"Only me?"
You moan an affirmation. 
"Good. I don’t want anyone else fucking you, do you understand me?"
"Yes!"
"I’m the only one who gets to touch you," he breathes, speeding up ever so slightly, "nobody else is going to feel you like this. Such a good girl, spreading her legs for me at five in the fucking morning. You’re not doing this for anybody else, baby."
"Uh-uh, please, pleasepleaseplease Spence—"
He knows what you need, reaching a hand down between your bodies to rub your clit. 
You gasp an airy, high pitched curse, hips twitching but unable to escape the near-punishing rhythm of his own. It’s obvious that your orgasm is close, but you can’t even warn him, too overwhelmed with pleasure. He kisses you, swallowing your moans that have probably become just a bit too loud given the whole hotel thing. 
No words are exchanged between the two of you as you near the finish line for a change, open mouths slipping against each others in what is too messy to be called a kiss. Your orgasm body-slams you, a choked silent scream as you tighten around Spencer and he seems to come at nearly the exact same moment—deep inside you, slowly rolling his hips in a few more strong thrusts as he finishes. 
You let out a delayed moan at the sensation of being filled up, still pulsing around him as he comes to a halt, buried inside of you. He drops his head to your neck, and you can feel each breath against your flushed skin. Other than the panting, you’re both silent for a while. Spencer seems to gather himself sooner than you do, finally breaking the quiet. 
"You okay?"
All you can manage is a little squeak, at which he looses a breathy chuckle. His hand slides to your hip, gently stroking the skin with a thumb. 
"Need your words, angel girl."
"I’m okay," you coo into his shoulder, but he has to strain to hear it above his own breathing. 
"Yeah? Why so quiet?"
But it seems that at least for the moment, he’s gotten all the words he can out of you. When he tries to move, you whimper indignantly, clutching onto him tighter. 
"I really did a number on you this time, huh?" He laughs when you nod into him. "Are you falling asleep?"
"Mhm," you hum dreamily, little puffs of warm air slowing against his neck. 
"You can have…" he cranes his head to check the digital clock, "48 minutes."
"An hour."
He settles his weight on you once more, pressing a chaste kiss to your throat. His voice is low and gentle as he admonishes you. 
"I said 48 minutes."
But it doesn’t matter—you’re already asleep, or close enough to it. Spencer takes the opportunity to shift you to your side, and the way you wrap around him like a vine even unconsciously makes his heart ache. He really should go now—the earlier he gets out of your room the less likely certain complications will arise—but how can he possibly leave you like this? A vulnerable, dreamy girl with tangled hair haloing around her on the pillow case, clinging to him with blind trust that he’ll watch over her as she sleeps? No—there’s no way he’s leaving yet. Instead, he brings you closer. 48 perfect minutes will go by far too quickly, he’s sure. 
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messylustt · 10 months
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౨ৎ ‧˚
𝐞𝐥 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐨 (𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥) — 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐬
miguel o’hara x fem!reader. 3.2k words
fic masterlist previous part pt seven next part
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angst but kinda fluffy? straight after; mention of past violence (minor) — you wanted to know what those spanish sentences miguel made you say meant, him having kept that to himself. and when you do, having scouted miles, you’re left…well…shocked. your friends are also left shocked wondering who asked you to say those things. when you go to question miguel about it you find him in a state you’ve never seen him in before.
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You had desperately wanted to translate the Spanish Miguel had chosen not to tell you. So much so, that you had began to scout HQ for a Spanish native speaker. You were too prideful to use your phone for translation, plus Miguel said nothing on not asking someone.
You remember Miles saying his mum was Hispanic. Even if his Spanish wasn’t top notch you’re sure he’ll understand at least a few words. Understand the sentences Miguel made you say.
You spot Pav talking with some other spider variants, using large hand gestures. "Pav!" You call, walking up to him.
He shifts his gaze to you, a smile soon following. “Y/n. How are you?”
You smile. “Good…yeah, no I’m good. I was just wondering if you knew where Miles was?”
“Oh.” He spins. “I swear I saw him over there.” He points in a random direction. “…now he’s gone. Maybe with Gwen.” He nudges you, raising his brows. You chuckle, understanding the meaning of those raised brows.
“Well, this will only take a moment. I just need translation for something.”
“Translation? To what language?” Pav asks.
“From Spanish to English. And I heard Miles knows a bit.”
“Ah…wait, but doesn’t Miguel fully speak it?” Pav pauses. “Yeah, he’d know a lot more than Miles.”
You nod. “He just won’t tell me.” You mutter under your breath.
“What was that?” Pav asks, brows furrowed.
You look back up. “Miguel’s just kind of busy right now.” You had no idea if he was or not. “And so I thought Miles might be free.”
“I see.” Pav nods. “Come on, I’ll help you find him.” Pav begins to head down one of the paths in the communal area where bunches of spider variants sat and stood talking.
“Miles!” Pav called out to nowhere in particular. “Miles!?”
“Is yelling his name really gonna help?” Your brows furrow.
“I like to think yelling will conjure up the whole ‘spider-sense’ thing.” Pav says, still gazing around. “Wait, maybe I need to sound more in distress.”
You chuckle, looking around. And that’s when you spot Miles and Gwen. “Miles!” You walk over with a smile. Pav is hot on your heels.
Miles turns, and copies your smile. “Y/n, hey.”
“Okay look, I’m sorry to ask this but can you translate something for me?” You ask, hopeful.
Miles tilts his head slightly. “Yeah, sure. As long as it isn’t French, or Dutch, or Russian. Or practically any language I don’t know.”
Your smile widens. “No, no. None of those. It’s just Spanish.”
“Oh.” Miles stands straighter. “I’ll warn you I don’t know a heck of amount. But I can give it go.”
“Thank you.” You grow more excited in way. All of last night you had been thinking about what you had said, really trying not to just roll over and grab your phone.
“Okay, so it’s two sentences.” You begin. Miles nods. “The first one is…’Me encantaría usar…tu cama para otras…cosas’.” You say it somewhat slowly, making sure you got it right.
When you look back to Miles, he’s staring at you blinking. You stare back. “What?” You ask.
“Um.” He scratches the back of his head. “I’m probably hearing it wrong.” He mutters to himself before he’s looking back to an expectant you.
“What was the second one?” He asks, a little more curious this time.
“Uh…’¿No crees que…me vería bonita atrapada entre…tus sábanas?’”
Now miles is staring at you. You eye him, brows furrowed. “What does it mean?”
He coughs. “Who said that to you?”
“Oh, no I said it to someone.” You answer. “Well, they asked me to say it…”
“You said it someone…” he drifts off, slightly gulping.
“What? Is it…bad?” Your brows are further furrowed. “Come on, Miles, please. I’ve been dying to know what it means all of last night.”
“Well, the first one…it means ‘I’d love to use your bed for other things’.” He mutters it out extremely quickly. That you think you don’t catch it right.
“What?”
“And the second one means ‘don’t you think I’d look pretty trapped in your sheets?’.” Miles’ has looked away, scratching the back of his neck again, clearly a fraction flustered.
This time you’re staring at him, or more so through him. Then you blink. “What?” You repeat stupidly. That can’t be right. Why did miguel ask you to say something about his bed…
Now you weren’t dumb you were just…in shock. Because how does that make sense. And as the words settle in your mind a little more, you begin to feel the familiar burn in your stomach.
Recently your skin had begun to feel hot. In specific scenarios, around a specific someone. Every moment that he had touched you in some way you had either been injured, or fainting, so you hadn’t realised the reactions in the moment. But now, having your mind clear and your body healthy enough your skin grows prickly.
Then there was the touches on your chin…
At first you thought that they were a form of showing his superiority. It seemed like something he’d do. But when you really thought about it, you realised that he wasn’t grabbing Peter’s face like that, he wasn’t leaning over a chair that Gwen was sitting at.
Now you’ve grown hot. And your cheeks are probably bright red, considering how Pav is eyeing you. “Um.” You nod. You don’t know why you’re nodding. You just need to do something that isn’t stare off into space.
“Who, um, asked you to say that?” Gwen asks.
You shift your gaze to her, still slightly stuck in your own head. You felt the urge to fan yourself, but realised how implicating that would seem. Miguel got you to say that stuff? That seemed to be a repeating question in your head.
“Oh, uh, nobody.” You didn’t really want to tell them that it was Miguel. You felt it would put pressure on something that you were sure wasn’t even something. It wasn’t…right?
But now as you quickly thank miles and skim past them, your mind is whirring. Did Miguel…? You press your lips together at the thought, unbuttoning the first button of your dress shirt. You were sure you were reading into it. Though…part of you was actually hoping the underlying meaning you were thinking of was the truth.
You were even slightly shocked at yourself at this revelation. It’s as if it had always been on the tip of your tongue. Not falling off because Miguel is well…Miguel.
;;
“What was that about?” Pav asks, watching your leaving form. Gwen watches you go as well, eyes narrowing in her own inspection.
Miles was still going over the sentences in his head, really double checking he got them right. “Yeah…nah, that’s right.” He mutters. “My translations right.”
“Who asked her—“
“Asked who what?” Hobie appeared, clearly just back from a mission, as he leaned against Miles, resting his arm on his shoulder.
“Y/n.” Gwen says. “She asked Miles to translate something for her.”
“See, I knew this guy would be helpful.” Hobie slightly shakes Miles’ shoulders.
“I think someone has a crush on y/n.” Pav says, making Hobie shift his gaze to him.
“Who?” Miles asks, suddenly interested in the small ordeal.
Pav shrugs, but Hobie shakes his head, scoffing. Pav hadn’t seen you and Miguel interact a hell of a lot. Gwen didn’t pay that much attention to people’s gazes, and Miles was well…new. So, maybe Hobie could give them a break, but he still couldn’t believe how oblivious they were.
Hobie began to figure out Miguel’s little crush on you when Miguel had called him in for a last minute mission that Miguel could have easily done himself. He hadn’t needed Hobie.
And when Miguel’s jaw clenched at the mention of how he was supposed to be hanging out with you, Hobie began to clock on.
“Come on, you lot.” Hobie says staring at them. “Tell me, who speaks Spanish here? Fluently?”
Gwen looks down, thinking. “Miguel.”
Hobie nods. “Uh huh.” He presses, seeing their slightly furrowed brows. “Oh bloody hell, you lot are thick.”
“Oh…” Pav mutters. “Oh!” He realises, and Hobie gestures to him, sighing in relief.
“Thank anarchy.” He mutters, thankful one person caught on.
“Miguel likes y/n?!” Pav practically exclaims, earning a few side glances from other spider variants.
“It’d seem so.” Hobie smirks.
;;
Later that evening, you stood, not meaning to feel as flushed as you were. Standing in front of Miguel's bedroom door, you felt hot, your breathing quickening. After having found out what he got you to say—and having gone through the stages of confusion, denial and then shock—you've arrived back to sweaty palms.
You take a breath, knocking, but instead of the solid feel of the door, your hand falls through, the door having been cracked open a fraction—your nervous state must have forced you not to notice. It swings wider and your breath hitches.
Miguel's room is a mess, and not just his bed this time. Things are smashed, and his chair is thrown, lying lifeless on the floor. You then shift your gaze up to a heaving Miguel. He finally notices your presence, meeting your wide eyes.
Miguel had always been someone who was controlled. Sure, he got agitated easy, and clearly had some anger issues to deal with, but 'messy' was never a word you associated with him. And here he was hair ruffled, wet from the outside rain, and covering part of his eyes. His chest heaved to a mismatched beat, as his nose twitched in a snarl, his fangs very visible in the dim light. He looked like the definition of ‘a mess’.
"What are you doing here?" His low tone breaks you from your silent stance, your lips coming closed to rub against each other in...thought? You weren't entirely sure.
You gulp. "Did something...happen?" You scan his body for injuries, but find none. You glance at his open window. "Did you go on a mission?"
"Did you need something?" Miguel doesn't mean for his tone to come out so harshly. And watching your face twitch a fraction made him grind his teeth in annoyance at himself.
"I was going to ask you something, but..." Now you weren't so sure that this moment was the right one.
Miguel gulps, turning slightly away from you. "If you have nothing to say…go."
Yes, Miguel was acting clip and rude with you. And yes...maybe he did turn away so he wouldn't see your expressions. But then he hears your steps slowly draw closer. He shifts his gaze back to you.
Right now was the worst time to see you, he didn't want you to see him, he wanted you to go.
"I thought you had nothing to say?" Miguel briskly asks, but you caught the slight crack in his harsh tone. A crack that displayed a mix of emotions—stress, anxiety,...fear?
Before you know it you're moving closer, your feet, the rain and his breathing filling the other wise silent room. "Now's not a good time." His tone cracked even more. This time with anger.
You stop, a decent distance away. And maybe you should leave, leave him to this. But what is this? You voice that. "What is this?" 'This' as in the mess. 'This' as in Miguel's body language. He looked like he was not even a minute away from exploding.
"Are you...okay?"
Part of Miguel's facade broke at that. "I'm perfectly fine. Do I not look it?" He spits this, fully turning to you. Some droplets of water, that had drenched his hair slides down his cheek.
You know not to be taken aback by Miguel's words. But you'd never seen the word 'crazed' written in his eyes before...'frantic'. "No...you don't look it." You say, eyeing him. "You look...you don't look like yourself."
Miguel mockingly nods, his tongue dragging across one of his fangs, and actually drawing blood. "Right." He forcibly chuckles. "I forgot, I'm supposed to look...what? Composed? On task? In control?" He's stepped closer to you, each word coming out like a snarl.
"Not everything stays the same." Miguel is saying. "Not everything goes the way we plan." He grits out 'plan' like he despises the word altogether.
And as you glance from his hair to the window, to then his too clean of a suit, you realise something. It wasn't a mission, but he had gone somewhere.
"Miguel, where did you go?"
"I didn't go anywhere." He scoffs out.
"Yes you did." You say, narrowing your eyes in thought. And maybe now would be a good time to leave, leave him be. But of course you wouldn't, 'worry' now tieing you up tight. Then you pause. "Why are talking about things that don't go to plan? What hasn't gone to plan?"
"You know, you can be real nosy sometimes." Miguel wanted to punch himself. Why did he say that? You had never been nosy, only observant. Maybe too much for your own good, but it was surely a talent of yours. And here he was shaming you.
But in this moment you weren't fazed. Something was wrong. "Miguel, you've clearly just come in here angry. You're hair's wet from the rain, so obviously recently. Your room is a mess. It's never a mess. You're...never a mess."
"Oh, plenty of things can become a mess, y/n."
"Yeah, but never you. Sure, you've gotten angry before, but you've never trashed a room. There's glass on the floor...you broke that mirror." You gesture to the one hanging on the wall, a prominent fist imbedded in the middle.
"Don't tell me you're gonna deduce where I've fucking been by the glass?!" He was yelling. Not at you. Never at you. At himself. But he's always been very good at projecting. Especially when you're around.
"No." You breathe. "I'm asking you." You say, letting a hint of your concern shine through. You were concerned. Very concerned. Maybe Miguel would have noticed your concern, if he wasn't slowly loosing it. If the messed up room wasn't enough of a tell, he's hit his peak.
"What happened?" You ask again, and this time you finally get a response.
"I fucked up, okay?!" He exclaims, his heart pounding a mile a minute. "I can't take it back. And I've tried. I've really tried. But you know what? Maybe this is meant to happen. Maybe I'm meant to screw everything up."
You stare at him. "What are you talking about?"
"I..." Miguel drifts off, fisting his already disheveled hair. "I let them take it..." Hs voice has softened. But not to a nice kind of softened—a broken one.
You step a fraction closer. "Who? And take what?"
You can visibly see Miguel's strength ebbing away. He looks exhausted, and all in all done. Done with everything. You didn't like that look, you didn't like the inclination of it. "Miguel." You say slowly.
But he's going farther and farther back into his mind, getting tangled up in thoughts you could tell had begun to haunt him. Screwed up? What had he supposedly screwed up?
Then before your mind could work on overdrive, millions of questions wanting to surface, and before Miguel could step further back from reality, you stepped much, much closer, reaching up on your tip toes. And then you wrapped your arms around his neck...hugging him.
Miguel is frozen. Entirely frozen. His mind stops trying to murder him and the drowning sounds in his ears fade away. Now he can hear your breathing, a nervous beat clear. He doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t know if he should do what he’s thinking.
But then you’re slowly drawing back, arms leaving his body. And he can’t have that. He swiftly wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you back to him, as his hands clench around your shirt.
Your breathing hitches as Miguel’s breath hits your collarbone, his head choosing to rest in the crook of your neck, his lips grazing part of your skin.
No. He had told himself he wouldn’t think like that anymore. It was exhausting, and he was tired enough as is. His grip tightened around you. To all the doubtful voices in his head, he was using you to say ‘shut the hell up’.
You could feel Miguel’s entire body practically slump against yours. And though your cheeks were red hot, and your heart was screaming you wrapped your arms back around his neck, your wrists meeting together by his hair.
For once Miguel heard silence. He had always had too many voices in his head telling him this and that. And that ‘this was what has to be done’ and that ‘no, you can’t get distracted’.
Now he felt a much relieving calmness engulfing him. You. His breathing slightly shuddered against your neck, the open of his mouth leading his fangs to lightly brush across your skin.
You shivered at this, earning Miguel to lean his head back. But he didn’t let your waist go. You stopped those voices and he’d be damned if he let you step away from his body now.
Your breathes met, as did your gaze. You were close, the seeming millimetre making you seem even more so. You could feel Miguel’s fingers fiddle slowly with the back of your shirt, your front still pressed against his.
“I’m…” You gulp, your voice coming out much shakier than you intended. “Sorry…I probably shouldn’t have hugged you.” You could practically taste his breath.
“Yeah…you probably shouldn’t have.” His tone is breathy, sounding out of body, as his gaze flickers to your lips.
They’re dry—of course. And now at the close proximity licking them made you feel ten times hotter. You prayed he couldn’t see your blushing cheeks.
“I’m sorry that I just…sorta came in.” You felt you had to fill in the silence. Miguel didn’t seem to mind it though, cause it meant that he could listen to your voice. And replacing your voice with the one’s in his head is probably the smartest choice he could ever make.
Well maybe the second smartest choice… He stared at your freshly wet lips, breathing harder. His thoughts had changed from ‘how much more could he take’ to ‘how much more…more…more’. He wanted more. More of your closeness, this seemed to not be enough.
In response to his thoughts his hands glided up your back, making your body lean more against him. Chest to chest.
“A-and I probably shouldn’t have assumed all that stuff…” you breathe out, as Miguel tilts his head, looking down at you. It’s safe to say your were flustered.
“I think you did alright.” He partially whispered.
“Well…you’re not throwing a chair..so..” Stupid, stupid, stupid—you think to yourself. “I mean…”
And to your shock you notice his lips begin to curve up. And not just to stop at a certain point. No. His lips continued to widen until he was smiling. An actual, genuine smile, that oozed amusement, and it made him look…happy?
“Careful.” You say. “You look like you’re expressing a ‘sparkly emotion’.”
“Oh no.” His grin doesn’t fall, and it only makes your heart beat faster. “We wouldn’t want that…would we?”
You quickly shake your head, and Miguel presses his lips together with further amusement, his eyes darting. “…cute.”
You freeze. And Miguel seems to realise his small slip up, as his eyes grow a fraction wider. He had slipped up in English. Goddamn English. You understood.
But what he didn’t know was that you understood a lot more than just that word. And as the reason for your arrival to his room came back to you, the simple word ‘cute’ seemed to mean a whole lot, lot more.
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I’m sorry this one’s kinda short, and not too much is going on. but I wanted them to have a close moment like this before they…well…y’know.
at this point I’ve decided to do nine parts (it fits better) so next part…mhm…FINALLY we can get some closer HaPpIniNgS
plus next part im gonna go onto a deeper dive of where Miguel went and who the masked men are — i just needed a bit of tension filled fluff
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st4rymoon · 10 months
Text
𝘚𝘢𝘺 𝘪𝘵
*+:。.。 Miguel x afab Reader
Summary - Miguel finally had time to visit your universe , little did you know Dr. Strange would stir up some jealousy inside Miguel.
Warnings - 18+, unprotected, language, semi-public sex?, ass smacking, cream pie, jealous Miguel, pet names [doll, sweetheart, honey, good girl], mirror sex. Strange flirts with you in front of Miguel…, possessive Miguel, pussy eating, edging, teasing
Continuation of this series! (Pt.4) → Consequences
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Miguel finally worked things out so he could visit your universe, Jessica happily volunteered to take care of everything while he was gone. She was thrilled to finally see Miguel happy, blabbering about you, he wouldn’t shut up about how excited he was to see your life.
You were anxious about him seeing your universe, the both of you have been together for around 7 months. Although you were supposed to take Miguel with you when you first went back, an incursion began to form in another universe but as always, Miguel fixed it.
But now that everything is settled and Miguel finally asked if he could go and see where you grew up you happily obliged. The only thing he was silently dreading was being introduced to Dr. Strange.
You suspected from the first time you met Miguel that he idolized Dr. Strange due to his fascination but it turns out it’s quite the opposite. Miguel knew about the mess other Stranges have caused, yet Dr. Strange was talked about like a cryptid or folktale.
The other spiders claim to have met Dr. Strange yet Miguel doesn’t seem to believe them since he’s never personally met him.
“Ready?” You smiled as you walked up to Miguel. He was tense, he’s done this thousands of times, traveling through the universe was like breathing to him but he felt like his heart was about to explode.
“A little nervous” he chuckled. “Nothing to be nervous about, let’s go”
Once the both of you arrived, Miguel wasn’t as tense. Your universe wasn’t very different from his which he liked. “I have to go check up on my sister, please don’t bring up any of the spider stuff up… she doesn’t know” you awkwardly smiled.
“Of course, my mouth is sealed” he winked as he wrapped his arm around you “Lead the way”
You made it to your sister’s apartment, you could hear her music blasting from inside. Your sister was the wild child, being only 3 years younger than you she got up to much more mischief even with you being a human spider.
You knocked on the door, once, twice, and still no answer. Finally, you knocked loud enough causing the door to fly open “YOU ARE HERE!” She yelled, jumping into your arms and pulling you inside.
“You must be Miguel? My dear sister won’t stop talking about you when she’s here. Always Miguel’s this, Miguel, that it’s annoying” Your sister smiled as she hugged Miguel.
“I’m flattered” Miguel Chuckles as he returns the hug. “Also I forgot to tell you that wizard guy came looking for you, he said to call him whenever you could” your sister nodded.
Your eyes grew wide. Why the hell was Strange needing you? You automatically think it’s something horrible, he usually never contacts your family if he was looking for you.
“Strange came over? Did he say anything?” You questioned “Nah he just said you work for him at his museum thing and he needed help finding a book” she shrugged.
Shit. It must’ve been that damn book of Vishanti he’s been bothering you about. He had you fetch it for him as a ‘sorry I went to another universe and fell in love with another spider’ apology gift.
Strange was pissed when he found out what had happened but surprisingly said it was meant to happen anyways which was something you’ve never heard strange say.
“Hey, sis? Would you mind if I go see what Strange wants? I promise I’ll be back, I’ll even bring you some ice cream” You smiled with a dramatic grin and your eyelashes fluttered as you looked at her.
“Ew don’t do that and yes you can” she shooed you away as she walked back into her kitchen. “Nice to meet you, Miguel!” She waved as something popped into her oven.
“Fuck! My cupcakes” she whined as you closed the door behind you.
“So what do you think strange wants with you?” Miguel asked as soon as you both were out of the apartment “I’m not sure honestly, the only thing I can think of is the book of Vishanti but I’m not 100% sure why” you sighed.
“You’ll finally get to meet him though! He’s um…. Let’s just say passive-aggressive as a heads up” You rubbed your arm as you looked over at Miguel. You couldn’t imagine the disaster that would happen if both of them got into a fight.
Both stubbornness and believing they are always right is something they have in common. “We’ll see how we get along” is all Miguel mutters.
You made it to the sanctum, the giant building standing tall as you look back at Miguel “Ready?” You smiled “Yup”
You walked into the giant building, it was completely silent as both you and Miguel’s footsteps echoed through the building. “Strange what the hell do you want!” You yell as you look around.
“Hey sweetheart” you hear Stranges voice boom from the left. You rolled your eyes as he walked into view with a confident stride. Strange's pet name wasn’t new to you, you don’t believe he says it in a flirtatious way, more of an enduring way. “so this is that Spider-Man right? Are you as annoying as the other spiders coming in and out of there?” Strange teased.
You can see Miguel’s jaw clench tight as Strange walks down “Can you be nice you shit, yes he’s my boyfriend” You scoff as you move towards Miguel.
Miguel didn’t say a word as he stood there, arms crossed and jaw clenched. “Anyways what do you want Strange” you hiss while pointing a finger at him “Just wondered where you were is all, it’s boring around here with no spiders especially when my favorite one disappears for a while, how couldn’t I miss her?” He teased.
“If you went and bothered my sister just because you missed me I can get 5 other spiders here right now if you want, you’ll surely be occupied” You shrugged.
You could hear it in a stranges voice that he was purposely trying to make Miguel mad. “No, but when will I have you back here?”
“You act like you don’t call me whenever you need help, I was rarely ever here. I don’t know if you're acting this way because Miguel’s here but don’t you ever flirt with me.” You hiss.
“Gosh, I’m joking! Wanted to see if this spider had the temper everyone was talking about” Strange laughed out in amusement.
Miguel was silent, you know he was fuming inside by how red his eyes were. “Let’s go” you seethe as you drag Miguel out by the arm.
He doesn’t move. He stands in the same spot, staring at Strange with narrow eyes “Do you have a bathroom?” Miguel blurted out. “Uh yeah it’s to the rig-“
“She can show me” Miguel Blanty replies as he drags you by the arm “Miguel let’s go you can go at my sister's” you whispered.
“Where’s it at?” he asked as held onto you close. “I- this way” You gave a confused look as you pointed him to the restroom.
Before you could turn he pulled you into the bathroom with him. “God he pisses me off” Miguel groaned as he buried himself in your neck. A shaky moan spilled out of your mouth as his actions took you by surprise.
“What’s up with you?” You chuckled as he lifted you onto the sink. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders instinctively as he began to rock into you.
“I don’t appreciate him disrespecting both of us like that” he sighed, his arms running up your thighs as you kissed down his jaw. You had a clue of where this was going and you loved it.
“Think I should fuck you loud enough for him to hear huh? Let him hear how pretty you sound when you're begging me to cum in you? I think I should” he purrs.
You whine at his words, your hips bucking to his as his hand snake onto your throat “yea…” you pant out, already out of breath from how fast your heart was beating.
Miguel knew the power he had over you, he could have you melting in his touch within seconds. You hummed in pleasure as his fingers unbuttoned your jeans “You want it doll? Say it, tell me what you want” Miguel coos.
“Yes” is all you could get out as he tugged your jeans down, tossing them onto the ground “Yes what sweetheart?”
You could feel your cheeks burning in embarrassment. Where you really going to fuck Miguel in the sanctum? It wasn’t professional on your part but you couldn’t help but feel turned on as Miguel whispered dirty praises in your ear.
“Fuck me” it came out desperate and pathetic, Miguel loved it more than you can imagine. He chuckled at your response, obeying instantly as he pulled your panties off.
You were struggling to get his pants off, the need making you jitter while you unbuckled his belt. He leaned in for a kiss, Moaning into your mouth as he tossed your hands to the side and removed his belt and pants in seconds.
“How can I resist something this gorgeous huh? Look at you” he mocked as he held your face up to his and chuckled at how red your cheeks were. He ran two fingers down your folds, groaning at the wet sound of your cunt when he plunged his fingers inside you.
You let out a shaky moan as he shoved two fingers into you, pulling them out with a smirk as he licked them clean “Taste so good” he purred before kneeling to your pussy.
“Miguel please need you inside me” you pleaded “Shh doll you’ll get what you want, patience” his arms wrapped around your plump thighs, tossing them onto his shoulders as he lifted you to his face.
You leaned onto your elbows, staring at Miguel as he stared at your pussy in awe. He licks his lips hungrily before burying his face into your cunt. You let out a loud cry as he licked and sucked on your clit, fingers tangling into his hair as he moaned into you.
Your head fell back onto the mirror, back arched off the counter as Miguel lapped at your soaked pussy “Why’re you covering your mouth huh? Let him hear you” Miguel seethed as he looked up at you.
He ripped your hand away from your mouth, using one hand to keep your hands pinned onto your stomach and the other to keep you from squirming.
You never got tired of the way he held you down so easily, you didn’t know it was possible for someone to keep you still with only 2 hands but Miguel made sure you knew he could.
Your moans grow heavy and loud as you feel your stomach fluttering, the back of your heels digging into his back as your thighs squeezed around his head.
He moaned at the feeling of your thighs locking him in and before he knew it your orgasm washed over you. That little add of vibration of his moan tipped you over the edge causing you to let go.
“That’s right baby, let him know” he mumbled as he pulled away from your thighs. His mouth and chin were covered in your slick, his lips connected to yours as he pulled you onto him.
You pulled at his boxers, dragging them down to his knees causing his cock to spring out onto your stomach. You clenched around nothing as you noticed how big he was on your stomach.
You had no idea how he always managed to fit inside you, even when you felt like he was splitting you in half. Your hand wrapped around his cock, aligning his thick tip onto your hole.
He pushes in softly, hands on your waist as you buried into his chest. Loud groans came from both of you as you wrapped around his cock perfectly, your nails digging into his shoulders as he picked up his pace.
“Migu- mi-“ you stuttered as he looked at you in admiration, his eyes watching the string of spit from your sloppy kiss drip down your chin as he fucks you brainless.
“Yeah doll?”
You didn’t know why you were saying his name, you had nothing to say. You just bounced along with his hard thrusts as he stuffed you full. He switched positions quickly, turning you around and lifting your ass in the air.
“Want you to look at yourself, look at how pretty you fucking look” he hummed. You were met with your own fucked out reflection, cheeks burning red and saliva all over your mouth as you stared at yourself in the mirror.
He didn’t waste any time pushing into you, his fingers digging into your hips as he watches your reflection in the mirror. Your eyes connect to his, a smile formed on his lips as your mouth hung open at his new angle.
Your eyes rolled back, your hands holding onto the counter as he fucked you hard onto the marble sink. “Oh m- my” you moaned out “who makes you feel this good huh? Say it, who?” He cooed, his hand palming your ass before his heavy hand slapped onto you.
You moaned at his smack, your body jerking as the new feeling made you clench. “Miguel” you panted as he picked up his pace “Not loud enough honey” he seethed, earning another harsh slap on your ass.
“Miguel, you Miguel please please I- I’m so cl- fuc” you whine out as his hand snakes onto your clit, his fingers impressively playing your body like he’s done it all his life.
“Huh?“ he grunted “I can’t hear you doll” he clicked his tongue after his words, his pace slowing as he looked as if he was going to pull back “NO! No Miguel please I- Im so close don’t stop pleas-“ you cry out. You were so lost in the pleasure you didn’t realize why you were even fucking in the bathroom.
You forgot about the whole strange situation, your pleads and begs echoing in the bathroom as you thrust onto his hips for friction.
You hated being edged, he knew that but he loved seeing you like this. Fucking yourself onto him when he decides to tease. His eyes burned into you through the mirror, your teary eyes looking up at him as he rubs your ass.
“Good girl”
He thrusts into you once again, this time his fingers playing with your clit with precision. His name spilled out of your lips, your hand wrapping around his wrist as you felt yourself reaching your 2nd orgasm.
His free hand pinned your hands onto your back, giving him a better grip for him to slam into you even harder. The pornographic sounds of slapping skin and moans fill the room as you stare at yourself in the mirror.
Your eyes fluttered as you felt yourself shake, tears streamed down your face as the orgasm hit you hard. Miguel’s eyes watching your tears stream down as you moaned his name was something he could never get tired of.
“That’s it doll, let it out. Let it alll out” he hummed. His eyes glued onto your pussy, the wet sticky slick sticking and stringing onto his lap with each thrust. The white ring forming around his cock made his eyes roll back, he felt himself twitch. “Shit b- ba- doll fuck”
His body slouched forward as he thrusts harshly, his fingers holding your hips as he took in your tight walls. His heavy pants and groans sounded like music to your ears, you lazily looked up at him and his messy strands of hair stuck to his face.
He dropped onto your back, kissing your shoulders as he filled you full of his seed. He stayed inside for a few seconds, waiting to come back to earth before pulling out of you. He watched as he spills out of you, the white warm liquid dripping down your thigh making you shiver as you heavily panted.
Your hair was a mess, eyes puffy and red, and cheeks burning. Miguel looked just as fucked out as you did, his lips puffy from the amount of biting he did, hair sticking to his forehead, and cheeks blushed.
“Don’t you look pretty?” He coos as he leans forward to grip your face, teasingly moving it side to side as your droopy eyes stare at him through the mirror. You chuckle at his actions, slumping completely onto the counter as you eased your heart rate.
“You okay?” He smiled at you as he lifted you back up “mhm” you nodded as he pulled you into a kiss.
Miguel grabbed some paper towels, turned on the sink, and cleaned you up. He cleaned himself up soon after, collecting his leftover seed and shoving it inside you with his fingers before putting on your panties “Make sure we don’t miss any” he cooed.
You stood up straight as he buttoned your jeans back up, you held yourself onto the counter as you watched him buckle his belt. “I need to fuck you in front of mirrors more”
You stood anxiously as the actions you both did sink in. You just fucked your boyfriend. In your boss's bathroom. Well, could you call him your boss? You didn’t know but you considered him one.
“Hope he heard all of it” Miguel chuckle as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder before pushing the door open. As soon as you walked into the hallway your eyes darted around, waiting for strange to appear and say something.
Both of you walked to the stairs, seeing Strange walking over awkwardly as Miguel smiled at him “We found the bathroom, thanks. Nice meeting you” Miguel cockily smiled as the both of you walked down the stairs.
“He knows you’re mine now”
Tag-list: @tati-the-fangirl @mxtokko @taleiak @zelzablues
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