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luveline · 1 month

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Hotch request! Please sir, can I have a Hotch request? I'm trying to follow what you said about comfort but also Hotch being angry. So I get low blood sugars cause of my diabetes and I'd love if you wrote something about them being on a case and BAU!Reader is really busy trying to get stuff done, so she has a bad low blood sugar and sits down but one of the local officers thinks she's slacking off so she tries to keep going and Hotch comes in and defends her, making sure she has everything she needs and doesn't faint. Love you <3

ty for requesting!! hope this is okay <3 fem, 1.3k

“I understand.” You frown, phone pressed to your ear hard. “I totally understand, but it’s really important that I get to talk to her.”

“She’s on heavy medication,” the nurse replies, unimpressed by your asking, “she wouldn’t be much use anyhow.”

“I understand, but–”

“Listen, I’m sorry, but we have a lot to do here. I’m sorry we can’t help. Bye.”

You groan in frustration, bringing your phone from your ear to see the Call Disconnected notification flash across your screen. How are you and the team ever supposed to get answers if nobody wants to help? Your head rushes. You kid yourself into believing it’s annoyance like a hot flash, you’ve been sweaty for ages, but then reality cuts through. What usually makes you sweaty and dizzy?

“Where’s my test kit?” you murmur to yourself.

The door opens while you’re looking through your bag.

“Agent,” Officer Debs greets, a stout, sturdy woman with sharp eyes, “any news from Georgetown Psychiatric?”

You rummage frustratedly through your things. You should know better than to misplace your test kit. Doesn’t matter. You’ll just have to eat something quickly before you get any worse. “Uh, no, nothing they could help me with.”

“Did you call them?”

Your eyelids are getting heavier. You sit down on impulse, worried you’re gonna fall if you stay standing. “Yeah, I called them.” You’ve had diabetes for long enough to know what to do, but it’s always harder than it felt the last time when your blood sugar drops. It can be so sudden.

Realising you might need help, you clear your throat, about to ask Officer Debs if she can get the glucose tablets from your bag. You should’ve grabbed them —your thoughts are starting to thicken like someone’s poured cornflour into your skull.

“Is now the best time for a break?” Officer Debs asks.

You focus very hard on bringing your attention into the present. “No, sorry,” you say, standing up. You open your phone and direct to the contacts page, clicking your favourite contact at the very top.

Don’t know m where test kit is, you text clumsily. Hotch should still be in the precinct. Do u have it ?

“I hope you’re texting someone about the case,” Officer Debs says sternly.

You shove your phone into your pocket. “Um,” you say, getting confused now, and not wanting to be shouted at. You grab for the page of phone numbers you’d been making your way through, can’t get your hands to work. “I wasn’t. But I’m getting to it.”

“We really don’t have time to waste.”

“I know, but my blood sugar–”

She talks over you. “What’s the point in all our officers working day and night when you FBI agents can’t be bothered to put in the same effort?” Her voice rises. “It’s ridiculous!”

“It’s not ridiculous, we’re trying our best just like you are.”

“Clearly not!”

“My blood sugar,” you say, more insistently. “Stop shouting at me.”

The door opens quickly, creaking hard on its hinge. Hotch doesn’t slam it open, he never slams anything, but he doesn’t hesitate either. “I have it, you left it in the car after you tested this morning,” he says, your kit in his hand. He gives Officer Debs a surprised up and down. “Who’s shouting?” he asks, unimpressed.

You wouldn’t like to be on his bad side. “Hotch, I need a tablet.”

If he’s shocked at your lethargy, he doesn’t say. He ignores the officer from that point on. “Yes, I think so, too.”

Hotch is more efficient than you were, grabbing your tube of glucose tablets and shaking one out into his hand. “Can you take it yourself?”

“You want to chew it for me?” you ask.

He tips it into your palm. “Very funny.”

He opens the test kit on the desk and starts to extract the pieces. It’s quite complicated, especially for people unfamiliar with it, but you’re pretty sure Hotch learned how to use it the day he knew you had diabetes. He wipes his hands with an alcohol wipe and presses a test strip into the meter, careful not to touch the end, before wiping your finger with a new wipe, and readying the lancing stick.

“Gonna stick you, okay?” he asks quietly.

“Mm,” you hum, the glucose tablet like chalk between your teeth.

He sticks you. Some days it feels more painful than other days, but today it’s like a pinprick in a haze. He squeezes your finger, wipes the first drop of blood with a cotton ball, and dips the test strip into the second bead of blood, careful not to jab your cut.

In the five seconds it takes for you to get a result on the meter, he kneels down, pressing another cotton ball to your finger to stem the flow of blood. “Good,” he murmurs to you. The meter flashes on the table. “Not so good. Fifty nine, huh? How’d that happen?”

You shake your head slowly from one side to another. “I’ve no idea.”

“Okay. Well, that tablet’s not gonna do it, honey. Do you have any gels?”

“No,” you say apologetically.

“That’s fine. I’ll get you a drink.”

Officer Debs clears her throat. You may be foggy, but her awkwardness is palpable. “I’ll get it.”

“It has to be full sugar. Coke, if you can,” Hotch says. She nods in understanding and leaves in record time. Hotch turns back to you, his severity melting away. “She was shouting at you?”

“Tried to tell her about my blood sugar. She told me we’re not here to waste time.” You close your mouth, licking the glucose off of your teeth.

“How did you get so low?” he asks.

“Must have done something wrong this morning. Am I okay?”

“We’ll see. I think you’ll be alright.”

“Don’t usually get so dizzy.”

“When was the last time you were below seventy?”

“Don’t know,” you mumble.

Hotch peels the cotton ball from your finger and packs your things away cleanly. “Let’s see how you feel in ten minutes. After your coke. Now… what did the Officer say to you?”

He’s getting his facts straight. Again, you wouldn’t like to be on his bad side. You relay your conversation, Officer Debs hadn’t even been that bad, just uppity, stuck on her own assumptions rather than willing to listen when you’d needed a hand. Her lack of empathy could’ve really affected you. Low blood sugar is no joke.

You tell him, savouring in the warmth of his hand on your leg, how uncaring he is to be kneeling in front of you on the precinct floor. He frowns at you long and hard.

By the time Officer Debs returns, he’s on his feet again. “A word?” he asks her.

You don’t hear all of what he’s saying through the door as you sip your coke. He doesn’t shout, but he defends you with a heavy gravity. Officer Debs speaks up and he cuts her down, something about understanding, and then a more clear telling off, “I don’t want to hear about Agent L/N’s performance from you again. She’s my agent, and if she needs a break, she’ll take one. It’s none of your concern.”

“I understand.”

You feel much peppier when he comes back in, though he appears less so. “You’re nasty,” you say, smiling, happy to be defended, and happier to know you’re not gonna pass out.

He crosses the room. Still frowning, he takes your face into his hands, and he leans down inch by inch, until he’s pressing a soft, soft kiss to your lips. You barely have time to close your eyes before he’s pulling away, thumb pressed into your soft cheek. “Nobody gets to shout at you. Especially over your blood sugar.”

“It’s usually you telling me off for letting it get low,” you mumble.

He stands up straight, leaving you wanting for another kiss you won’t get, hands stolen back from your cheeks. “You’re ageing me prematurely. Drink some more coke, please, sweetheart.”

“What do I get in return?”

He touches your face briefly, as much of a promise as you’re going to get.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble

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peaktora · 5 months

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𝐁𝐄𝐃𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄: 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍 𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍˚◞♡ ⃗ dad!satoru gojo

𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙬 ┊ instead of sleeping, satoru and your daughter argue over what to name her stuffed dragon.

𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩 ┊1.9k words. established relationship (#married). the toddler dialogue is purposefully not structured correctly since it’s words from a toddler. fem!reader. intended lowercase. warning: you will wish you had a kid with gojo after reading this.

𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚.┊this was gonna be a basic thought post, but i got more and more interested in the concept and was like “y’know what? fuck it, ima just make this into a full fic.” so here we are with a more full look at dad!gojo <3.

satoru mumbles, "but i think he likes being called spike,” and it's obvious that he's sulking. you don't even have to look up from your book to confirm it.

“well, you don't know him like i do!” your daughter replies, tucking herself into your side.

you flip through the picture book's pages fast, just getting brief glances of its colorful illustrations. unicorns, dragons, knights, and princesses decorated the pages. after turning the last page, you sigh and put the book down on the nightstand. despite the fact that the book was designed for toddlers, it actually looked interesting. you just know you would love to read it to your toddler. you can imagine yourself reading it to her, seeing the excitement on her face as she explores the world of fantasy—her absolute favorite genre.

but unfortunately, that image in your head will have to wait for another day, because her attention? is completely taken by the debate between her and her father.

how the argument started is beyond you. just ten minutes ago, you and satoru were snuggled up on your daughter’s bed, trying to read her to sleep. and now? satoru and her are in a heated debate over what to name her stuffed dragon. it's tough not to be amazed at how something so easy can become so complicated with him.

"i bought him, drove him around in my car, and wrapped him up in a cute little box for you. i think we know each other pretty well.” satoru smiles and reaches across the bed for the dragon.

“nuh-uh! he not even like you!” your toddler, with her tiny hands and puffed cheeks, clutches her stuffed dragon tightly against her chest. the plushie, its vibrant green scales and friendly eyes, seemed to come alive in her hold.

he retreats back to his seat on the edge of your daughter's bed, his lips curled into a frown as he asks, "how come?"

her mouth opens, then closes again. you look away for a moment to give satoru a look of disapproval, and by the time you return your attention to her, her brows are already starting to furrow. she mumbles under her breath, "because," running her small fingers around the plush dragon’s ear. she looks to be at a loss for words, as if she hasn't come up with an answer to satoru's question.

but that's okay, since you—happily, do.

"because you’re taking his time away from storytime. and satoru, in case you didn't know? when it's time to go to bed, we have storytime.”

your daughter looks up, her face beaming as she screams, "yup! and mommy picks the super-duper bestest stories ever!"

satoru gasps, his eyes never leaving yours as he rises from his bed and holds his chest. "baby, who's side are you on?"

you roll your eyes, "i'm just sa—"

"oh, sweetheart," he mumbles as he rushes around the corner of the bed, his movements quick to reach your side. without wasting a second, he rests a palm on your forehead, checking your temperature with a clear look of false concern. concerned people don’t have to hold back the urge to smile. actually, they don't have a smile at all—but for some reason, satoru does, and he's terrible at hiding it. "are you sick? having some hallucinations? is that why you've decided to side with enemy?”

your daughter giggles, and it only feeds satoru's act.

he turns his head towards the source of the giggles. a playful pout forms on his lips as he teasingly asks, "or did this little munchkin of ours use her princess magic to change your mind? she has a way of doing that to me sometimes, y’know."

his free hand reaches towards your toddler, fingers wiggling in anticipation. as his fingers make contact with your little one's soft, ticklish skin, even more giggles slip past her lips.

she tries to squirm away from his touch, but that's when he adds another hand to the tickle fest, and all chance of escape is gone. at that point, she visibly gives up, curling into herself to try to halt her dad’s tickling.

“i-i don’t have powers, daddy!” you daughter manages to stifle out through her laughs. you smile at the sound—it’s one you'll never get tired of hearing.

"you can't be a princess without powers! every princess has powers!"

“i-i'm n-not a princess though!“

satoru's fingers pause in their spot, his eyes widening in disbelief. "not a princess? how on earth can that even be?"

you’re sure if she needed him to, he could easily write an entire book about how she’s a princess.

he scoops her up from her place next to you, careful not to let her dangling legs hit you in the process. she lands on his hip, her eyes fixated on him as he lovingly whispers, "you're daddy's little princess!" he pauses, then adds, "and mommy is the queen, so that makes me—"

“the king?”

“you’re just so smart, huh? see, a perfect quality of a princess.”

“but princesses have dragons! big ones with so many pretty colors and names! they go—“ she cuts herself off and raises her tiny arms high. with a wide smile on her face, she takes a deep breath and lets out a loud roar.

satoru nods and smiles warmly at her, "oh, i see...well, y’know what? not all princesses have dragons.”

she tilts her head, and you awe at the sight. “they don’t?”

"nope," he says, taking her tiny hand in his, wrapping it securely around his finger. he lightly massages the back of her hand, and it’s soothing—scratch that, reassuring. you can tell from the way your daughter leans her head on his shoulder, tucking herself in the crook of his neck. "you don't need a dragon to be a princess. you're my princess ‘cause you're kind, smart, and full of love. i'd say that's all you need to be one."

"really?" she asks, waiting for his nod before continuing. "okay…but i still want a dragon."

"i get it, munchkin," he hums as he takes the dragon plushie from the bed. "we still haven't figured out a name for this guy, hm?"

“nuh-uh!”

“he looks like his power is being super cuddly. he's so cuddly that he puts you right to sleep…how ‘bout…fluffy?"

“ew.”

“fluffy sounds cute, no?”

"but dragons aren't cute. daddy, they breathe fire."

"wel—" satoru begins, but your daughter interrupts.

“his name should be fireball!”

“satoru, she does have a point,” you assert.

she really did. it was a dragon, not something adorable, but something that’s usually thought of as a villain—or a protector. athough deep down, a part of you just wanted this little debate to finally wrap up so you could finally catch some much-needed sleep.

“i thought i took away all of her princess magic?” satoru frowns, "stop siding with the enemy!"

you can't help but snort at his comment. mostly because, for whatever reason, he’s taking this dispute very seriously. so seriously that he doesn't seem to notice you're trying to do anything to finally get to bedtime. "baby i was just sa—"

"who says this dragon had to breathe fire anyways?" he interrupts.

when your toddler goes to respond, it hits you. "what about fluffy fireball?" you mention. it's a perfect combination of the two. well, okay, maybe not a “perfect” combination, but it's good enough to finish this debate.

if you weren't so tired, you’d stop and ogle the way they ask "huh?" in sync.

you shrug, "well, why not? he is pretty fluffy and spits out fire. there can’t be a better name than that."

your daughter holds out the dragon, looks at it for a while, then brings it up to her ear.

she gives the impression that he’s nodding his head before hushedly saying, "got it." she then turns back to face you and yells confidently, "fluffy fireball agrees!”

"well, i don't agree," satoru huffs. "the name is way too long an—"

“satoru.”

“but—“

"satoru," you say more firmly, and his shoulders sink as he mumbles "okay" beneath his breath.

your daughter lets out a yawn, and your eyes are immediately drawn to her. you signal for satoru to come over to the bed, and he does, bending down to your level.

“is my girl sleepy?”

"um," she pauses and looks at her dragon. "just a little bit."

"i can tell," you say, gently rubbing her back. you sneak a quick glance at your husband, and he looks the other way because he knows it's way past her bedtime. you sit up next to her ear and murmur, "i think fluffy fireball is ready to go to sleepy-time."

she gives the dinosaur a look before asking him, "y’wanna sleep with me?” then, she shakes the dinosaur's head up and down before exclaiming, "okay!"

you watch as she leaps out of satoru’s arms, and plops down on the bed. the room fills with giggles and the creaking of the bed as she scampers towards the middle. once she's next to you, she settles in and gets comfortable.

you can't help but smile as you see her tiny hands reaching out, playfully fluffing the pillows around her. then finally, with a satisfied sigh, she snuggles under the covers, cocooning herself in warmth.

she sets her dragon on her left side, making sure her loyal companion is there to do his job and look after her (the princess). it’s cute really. however, if that dragon becomes even a little bit too comfortable with the job, you know satoru will undoubtedly compete for the position. he'd say, "it can't just show up one day and take my job," or something along those lines. knowing him, he might even contemplate throwing it away—who knows.

you’re jolted out of your trance when your daughter asserts to her dinosaur, "you can sleep on daddies side, he snores."

satoru gasps, “i do not—“

“yes you do!”

“when have i eve—“

"guys," you sigh, feeling the weight of exhaustion in your voice. you cast a glance at both of them, making sure you have their undivided attention before pressing on. "c'mon, let's all take a breather and save the debate about your dad's snoring for tomorrow, okay?"

"but mommy, tell him he snores!" she whines. "he goes—" she cuts herself off to mimic satoru's snoring, and his face is priceless.

"now that’s just rude. how can you speak to me so coldly?” satoru scurries underneath the covers on the side of the dragon. and just like that, your daughter and her dragon are nestled between the two of you.

“this’ll be settled in a family meeting tomorrow. you two have already had one debate today. so right now? lets all go to bed.” you declare, then nestle deeper beneath the covers, closing your eyes.

as the voices of saddened "okays" and "alrights" blend together, a collective sigh fills the room. the sound of a click follows, and even with your eyes closed, the absence of light is unmistakable. it makes you feel even more exhausted than before.

you feel satoru’s arm slide around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him. meanwhile, your daughter stirs slightly, searching for a more comfortable position in the cozy space between the two of you. you can feel her movements, her small body nestled snugly against yours.

you snuggle impossibly closer to your pillow, and take a deep breath.

silence, that’s what follows—and it’s nothing but peaceful. that is, until satoru bursts out laughing. "i don't snore," he blurts out into the darkness, his voice filled with mischief. "i just provide a little background music for the night."

it's at this point that you decide to be extremely biased at the family meeting tomorrow. he’s not winning a damn thing.

#(っˆ ³(ˊ ᵕ ˋก ) ⇢ ˗ˏˋ 𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐀 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 ࿐ྂ #i think this is the cutest scenario i’ve came up with #and the best part is that it’s 100% cannon (bc i said so)#gojo x reader #gojo x reader fluff #gojo angst #gojo x you #gojo headcanons #gojo scenarios #satoru gojo #satoru gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #jjk x you #jjk fluff #jujustu kaisen #jujustu kaisen x reader #jujustu kaisen headcanons

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lightseoul · 1 year

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cw. gn!reader, worker!reader, prohero!katsuki, aged-up (25), pining lmao (if you look extra closely)

“You’re late.”

At the sound of the pro-hero’s all-too-familiar gruff voice, you freeze, ass barely touching the chair you were about to sit on.

From where he sits across from you, Bakugou is now scowling.

Great, you think to yourself. Twenty seconds in and you’ve already triggered the beast.

“Sorry,” you say with the most apologetic smile you can muster. “Something urgent came up.”

At that, his scowl deepens, and his eyes seem to search for something as they flicker over your features. You feel yourself getting warm under the intensity of his gaze.

Three years of working under him and it still flusters you—being studied so blatantly by the #2 Pro-Hero, Bakugou Katsuki.

“What possibly could’ve been more urgent than an important meeting with your fucking boss?”

You internally scoff at his tactlessness, though you manage to seem unfazed on the outside. At the very least, the three years of being the HR head of the Dynamight agency have taught you how to deal with a certain someone.

Bakugou’s eye twitches so minutely, probably out of annoyance brought by the feigned innocence written all over your face.

You could lie and let the conversation move forward. But you’re feeling a little reckless, still reeling from that damned phone call you had a few minutes ago.

So you tell him the truth.

“I just got dumped over the phone.”

You expected a disinterested harrumph in response, not a choking fit over the ice-cold water he just downed.

You jump on your feet, circling the table to—supposedly—gently pat his back. Before you do so, though, you hesitate, hand awkwardly frozen mid-air, wondering for a second if touching any part of your boss’s body could put you in HR danger.

Once you gathered practically everyone in the restaurant’s attention and Bakugou has stopped coughing, you hesitantly circle back and sit on your chair.

“Are you okay?” you ask, as he wipes his mouth angrily with his napkin.

“‘m fine,” he croaks, not meeting your gaze for a moment before finally looking you in the eye.

He looks like he has something to say, but his words never come. His mouth merely opens and closes ever so slightly, you could’ve missed it if you weren’t staring at it.

Why are you staring?

“Great,” you shoot him a smile, grabbing one of the menus and thumbing through the decidedly sticky pages.

A pause.

“...You could’ve canceled, you know.”

At the sound of his uncharacteristically quiet voice, you look up, surprised.

“What?”

He sighs, probably irritated by your confusion. “You could’ve canceled the meeting,” he explains, “I would’ve understood.”

You can’t help but smile at him, the feeling of gratitude blooming in your chest. At the sight of it, he looks away, solemn.

“A commitment is a commitment,” you reply. “We already blocked off the hour to meet with the restaurant owner, and I don’t want to waste your precious time off patrol.”

“...Even though you just got dumped?”

Your heart throbs painfully at the mention of what just happened to you, but you quickly school your expression into a neutral one.

“Especially because I just got dumped.”

He chuckles. “What, you the type to throw yourself into work when life gets extra shitty?”

You playfully roll your eyes at his jab. “Don’t act like you don’t do that yourself, Bakugou-san.”

“I wasn’t,” he defends, smirking as he leans back against his seat. “Was just curious.”

Before you can even register what he just said, a waiter suddenly appears to your right, startling the both of you.

Bakugou then proceeds to order for himself, and as he does so, you study his face despite yourself, heart weirdly thrumming at the implications of what was just said.

“Make sure to have the report ready by 5 PM tomorrow,” he says, breaking the silence as you walk towards where he parked his car. “‘m planning to stop by the office to read it before the night shift starts.”

“Got it.”

Before you know it, you’ve already arrived. Despite yourself, your heart sinks at the thought of going home. Whether it’s because you literally just got dumped unceremoniously or because the surprisingly pleasant meeting is coming to an end, you don’t know.

Bakugou turns to face you, a hand in his pocket and the other fiddling with his keys. “You sure you don’t need a ride?”

You nod. “The bus station is just a few blocks away.”

A silence falls upon you.

Again—there’s that serious look on his face as he studies you so intensely, it almost feels like scrutinizing. You’ve always felt vulnerable under Bakugou’s sharp gaze, but today it’s been extra piercing.

Finally accepting that it’s the end of the day and it’s time to go home, you nod again—more cheerfully this time—before you turn to leave.

You’re about a few feet away from him when he calls your name.

“For what it’s worth,” he semi-shouts, “it’s that dumbass’ loss.”

tagging. @katsukis1wife @rinalou @loverboyrin @brunnetteiwik @beabe19

#we love an emotionally constipated bkg #confess to yn NOW #bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou imagines #bnha imagines #mha imagines #bnha scenarios #mha scenarios #mha x reader #bnha x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou imagine #bakugou drabble #bakugo x reader #bakugo x y/n

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st4rymoon · 8 months

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♱ 𝐒𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞 ♱

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟕: 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐱 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐲 | 18+ | 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭

𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎’𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Warnings: DARK CONTENT! This is your warning! 18+, Predator x prey, language, cursing, fearful situations, handcuffs, dubconish but it’s consensual?, rough sex!, mean Miguel, pet names, hair pulling, p in v, fingering, unprotected sex!, breeding kink, possessive miguel

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫-𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭

Miguel felt like an asshole but he couldn’t stop thinking about what he read in your journal. Both of you went on a fall vacation together deciding to take a break from the stress of running the spider society.

You’ve been dating for around a year now and yesterday he did something he thought he’d never do. While you were in the shower, your journal sat on the nightstand only inches away from him full your secrets.

He was fighting himself internally but the urges got the best of him. Scanning through the pages his eyes stopped at his name, he read the words written on the dainty pieces of paper.

He could feel his face heat up as he took in your deepest desires. His eyes widening at the words ‘I want to feel the adrenaline rushing through me as he stalks through the woods and finds me’ he couldn’t stop reading.

Once you were out of the shower your journal was back in its usual place. You walked out with a towel wrapped around your body, the fresh droplets of water dripping down your skin as you made your way to the bed and changed into your pjs.

Ever since then you could tell Miguel was in his head more that usual. He would watch you with far more precision, his eyes would lingering on your for seconds too long.

You were on the couch, watching some tv as you munched on some popcorn. Miguel said he’d be back in a few so you wasted no time to get comfortable. A few hours passed when you heard the door open.

You turned back with a smile as you faced Miguel, your faced dropped in amusement as he walked in with a full black outfit and a duffel bag in hand “did you rob a bank?” You joked as he walked up to you.

“Ha ha very funny” he hummed as he placed the bag next to you “go get changed into this, we’re going somewhere doll” Miguel hummed.

You smiled and picked up the bag, making your way to the bathroom. You placed the bag onto the counter and rummaged through it.

A set of black panties and a bra with a matching dress and some shoes. What in the hell was this man planning? Both of you robbing a bank?

You laughed to yourself as you changed into the things he gave you and fixing yourself up in the mirror. Once you were finished you walked into the living room, in front of you sat Miguel with his legs spread and hands between his legs as he leaned forward. His head tilted up as he saw you walk over to him.

“Where are we going this late at night? The bar?!” You jumped as you remembered the tasty drink you got a few days ago. Miguel shook his head as his hands trialed up the sides of your thighs.

“siéntate” he hummed, pulling you onto his lap and pinning you onto him. His face dropped into the crook of your neck, his tongue softly running up your neck and sucking softly. You let out a moan as his fingers made their way to the back of your dress and lifting the thin material up so he could play with your panties.

“Miguel” you whined as he moaned into you “I read that little journal of yours sweetheart, what did you mean about stalking you through the woods mhm?”

You tensed up in his lap “I- I- it wasn’t-“ you didn’t know what to say now caught red handed. You felt your body heat up in embarrassment “why are you reading through my journal in the first place?” You tried to change the finger pointing to him “don’t switch the conversation honey, you really want me to hunt you down in the woods? Catch you like a fox hunts a bunny?” He hummed.

You whined at his words, he was pushing you to talk and you couldn’t bare his teasing. You had a dirty secret you thought he’d never find out. You’ve always had an on going fantasy of playing cat and mouse games in the woods. Not with strangers but with someone you could really trust, someone you could live out your sick fantasies with.

It really didn’t help realizing a year into your relationship with Miguel that he drew you these fantasy’s even more. You fantasized about him hunting you like prey, his huge figure stalking the woods in mere silence with his spider man capability’s.

You’ve never thought about it with your ex’s, you felt like you always had the advantage being spider woman if you’d follow threw with it. But with you and Miguel having spider abilities and your own special talents, it seemed far thrilling.

You didn’t say a word as Miguel’s gaze burned through you “answer me” he sternly spoke. All you did was nod your head “words” he cooed, your checks being squished by his hands as he held you up to his face.

“Yes, I’m sorry you had to Read th-“ before you could apologize his lips crashed onto yours. You could feel him throbbing in his slacks as he softly bucked his hips onto you.

“Don’t apologize muñeca, don’t do that” he moaned, a string of saliva sticking to your lips as he pulled back softly “do you trust me?” He hummed.

“Of course I do Miguel. I trust you with everything I have in me” you whispered while trying to attach your lips onto his again. He let your lips connect but he still continued to speak “what if we played this little game of yours here? We’re in a cabin, woods all around us. But you’ll be safe love, I took care of everything already”

You kissed him rougher, Moaning into his mouth in agreement. “Yes” you nodded, Miguel smiled at the way your body warmed up in his hands. It didn’t help help that you were ovulating, he could smell your hormones radiating off you.

“Let’s go”

Miguel closed the door behind you and guiding you to the edge of the house “let me explain the rules” Miguel sighed. There was a new version of Miguel in front of you, he stood with his arms crossed with his eyes trained on you. It felt he was sizing you up while purposely trying to scare you.

“Firstly, the woods are safe, nothing inside that can hurt you or me. House is off limits no hiding inside. You don’t have to worry about getting lost I have that taken care of.” Miguel hummed. “Now for the important rules you’ll enjoy”

You squeezed your legs together as you stared up at him. Miguel chuckled as you did “ one, the most important rule if things get too much, use our safe word”

“Red, I know” you shrugged as you cut him off “good. If you manage to keep hidden from me, which I doubt, the game will end in 2 hours and you’ll know when they are up. You’ll win if the 2 hours go by. If I catch you and you get away, the game will continue on. If I catch you, I’ll get to do what I want with my prize”

You bit your lip, you didn’t fail to notice the bag he had wrapped around his back and you wondered what he had inside. Rope? Hand cuffs? A knife maybe? You didn’t care, you wanted all of it.

“If I win what will I get” you pout “what ever you want doll” Miguel winked. You nodded “lastly, no webs allowed until I catch your or you win. No swinging in trees but I’ll allow crawling. You listening? I know you love to break the rules but just know the game will end if you do” Miguel hissed while pointing a finger down at you.

“Yeah yeah” you rolled your eyes “when can we start?” You sigh. He hummed at your cockiness “you’ll get a 40 second start, once I say go you run” he nodded.

You repaid the nod and started into the eerie woods. You couldn’t wait for it to start, even though darkness swallowed everything around you; only allowing you to see the shadowed trees and rocks scattered along the tree line, you loved it.

“Ready sweetheart?” He hummed. “Yeah”

“1…2…3…” Miguel slowly counted, he paused for a few seconds making you look up at him. Before you could say anything he yelled go.

You looked into the woods and sprinted in, darting around and pushing past the trees as you looked around for a good hiding spot. You could hear Miguel counting in the distance, his voice fading away as you ran deeper into the woods.

You didn’t know how far you were in the woods but you knew you made some distance. You couldn’t see the light of the house, just pitched black with some highlights illuminated by your spider vision.

You sat with your arms wrapped around your knees as you sat behind a rock, making sure to quiet your breathing and listen to your surroundings. You perked up at the sound of foot steps. Your eyes darted around, nose smelling everything around you as your senses heightened.

No fucking way it was Miguel, it couldn’t end this fast.

Your heart was beating as you heard the crunching growing closer. You looked down at your feet, a few inches away you see a small shadow and hear a ribbit.

The crunching and flopping of a frog jumping around making you sigh as you noticed it stop near your feet. “Scared the shit out of me frog” you whispered.

Your moment was cut short as you heard whistling from behind “I can smell you love, you’re lucky it can’t lead me to you. You just fill all of my fucking senses” Miguel’s voice hums. Your legs squeezed together at the sound of his voice, the tone cold as the echos of his whistles ran through you.

You knew he was walking, the crunching and his voice sounding as if from the ground. You didn’t even think about him behind above you, even more of a precaution.

Not only did you have to watch out from down low but also from above. You could hear him getting closer, your heart heated in your chest as you looked around the ground for a rock.

You found a decent sized rock, peeking from above you and listened closely to the sound of his whistles before you picked a direction and threw the rock.

Miguel’s whistles stopped as the rock hit the ground, his footsteps running towards the rock in hopes of catching you.

You got up and ran, crawling onto a tree and hiding inside the leafs. “Aren’t you smart, trying to distract me? Thought you’d know better doll, now I know I’m close” he mocked.

You watched down below as you waited for him to appear. The heavy crunching of leafs letting you know he was on the ground.

A few seconds of silence was unsettling, no crunching, no whistles, just howls of owls and crickets filled your ears. He could be anywhere, for all you knew he could be behind you.

You heard a crack of a branch from behind you making you jump out of the tree. You heard Miguel’s dark chuckle from behind as he jumped onto the ground sprinting after you.

“This is just too easy” he cooed. You ran faster than you ever had, faster then you do when you run from enemies or anomaly’s. Miguel was surprised by your agility and speed but he wouldn’t give up.

Your heart was racing as you swerved through trees. You dumbly took a turn to slow, allowing Miguel to grab a fist full of your hair and yank you onto his chest. He hummed as you clawed at his chest, you had the fight in you, you didn’t want him to win this easily.

You twisted your leg behind his, dropping him onto the ground and loosening his grasp. He cursed as you ran even faster than before, a loud curse echoing behind you as he couldn’t catch up.

You were back on the ground, deciding that being in trees was a worse idea. You could feel the slick between your folds soaking your panties, your pussy was throbbing at the remembrance of how rough he was.

The way he yanked you onto him like you were nothing but a pillow was making you crazy. All you wanted to do was to move your panties to the side and rub your swollen little clit for some relief, but you knew better.

Minutes went by with nothing but the sounds of nature, your body relaxed as you finally got back to your normal breathing.

But as always, you could never get too comfortable.

You heard crunching yet again, this time you stood up quiet and walked behind a tree, hiding yourself behind the large bark.

You listened as the crunching stopped. You knew you really pissed Miguel off because he was so damn quiet now. Not a peep from him. No condescending words or teases.

You took a breath, eyes closed as you listened closer. “You look so damn pretty” you heard from besides you. Your eyes snapped open and looking to your left, there was Miguel leaning on the tree besides you.

“Shit” you cursed, running with force as you tried to get as far away from him. “Not again sweetheart” he hissed as he wrapped a hand around your mouth, pinning you onto his back and this time allowing himself to fall back onto a tree.

His other hand wrapped around your waist as he lowered the both of you onto the ground. You kicked at his legs as he whispered praises in your ear.

“Oh come on, give it up already I won” he hummed. You could feel how hard he was as he sat you up on his lap, his legs wrapping onto yours to cage you between him.

“You smell so fucking good honey, pussy is begging me to touch you” he moaned as his hand slipped into your panties.

You let out a moan as his calloused fingers ran through your folds, your slick coating his thick fingers as he groaned at the sound of how wet you are.

“Oh honey, listen to how wet you are. My poor little girl needs me huh?” He hummed into the crook of your neck. “F- fuck” you panted out, your nails dug into his arms as he rubbed on your swollen clit “I can feel you throbbing against my fingers doll, pussy is begging for me honey” he cooed.

You squirmed and whined as his hand wrapped around your throat; facing you up to him. The moonlight lit up his face as you stared up in awe at him. “Aww look at you, mi muñequita chula” Miguel was taking in the sight before him.

His beautiful girl spread wide between his thighs, eyes shimmering up at him. “Ple- mig” you cried “remember, I won so I’m in charge” he cooed.

Your body was shivering in need as he teasingly rubbed your clit. He pulled away as he turned you around to face him, he kept you pinned with one hand as he rummaged through his bag.

You pulled out some handcuffs from the bag, his hand kept you pinned on his chest as the other gripped your wrists and pinned them onto your back.

You moaned at the feeling of the cold metal tightening around your wrists. He was kind enough to not tighten them up too much to hurt but just enough to make it slightly uncomfortable to move.

Miguel was going crazy, your scent filled his senses, everything about you was driving him crazy. The way you looked so damn weak made him rock hard, he knew you couldn’t fight back with your hands cuffed, he knew you couldn’t protest.

“Need you” he huffed as he unbuckled his belt and kicked his boxers off. His cock flung out onto his stomach, pre cum spilling out of his angry tip as you whined in need.

You gasped as he ripped off your black lace panties and pulled your dress down, exposing your tits out for him. Miguel rubbed his tip between your folds, groaning at the feeling of your soaked pussy leaking all over him.

He aligned his tip into your oozing hole, pushing his hips into you as he stretched you out. A loud moan spilled out of you as he pistons his hips into you, his cock filling you to the brim as he holds your hips down onto his.

His eyes watched the way your plush tits bounced along with his hard slams. His head fell onto your tits, his mouth lapping and biting onto your skin as he fucked himself into you.

The way he held you felt so much different than he usually does in bed, it felt like he was ravaging his last meal. He fucked you on the damp soil, in the middle of the woods like he was giving into his deepest urges.

“Couldn’t believe you liked things like this doll, practically fucked myself into my hand thinking of something like this the first time we kissed. Imagined how you’d taste in this situation” he hissed.

You were bouncing along with his hard slams dumbly, your wrists slightly hurting from the restriction. His hand wrapped around you throat, pressing onto your throat as he lost himself in your pussy.

Your eyes were rolled back in your head and inaudible sentences spilled from you as the over whelming feeling of living out your deepest fantasy came true.

“You’ll never leave me, I’ll never let you go. You’re mine sweetheart, I’ll kill for you if I had too. Anything” Miguel muttered. You pussy clenched around him, his words making you moan as he picked up the pace. His pubic bone rubbed against your clit perfect, you fell onto his shoulders as you moved your hips onto his.

Your orgasm crashed upon you hard, your pussy throbbing and gushing around his fat cock. He continued his brutal pace, overstimulating you as his fingers played your with over worked clit.

“No no no” you cried as you shook onto his fingers “shhh” he hummed. He closed his eyes in ecstasy as he felt himself pulsing inside your walls, cock dripping pre cum into your cunt as he threatened to burst inside you.

“Fuck- fuck” Miguel hissed. A primal moan rumbled out of him as he spurted his seed inside you. He fucked his load into your tight cunt in hopes to make himself a daddy.

He envisioned you growing plump with his child as he rides out his high “a- ah ah fuck” he whined out. You could hear the wetness of each others cums as he overstimulated himself. He was shaking as your walls squeezed him perfectly.

You let out a tired moan as he finally slowed his pace and stilled inside you. Miguel unlocked your handcuffs weakly, allowing you to wrap your arms around his shoulders.

You sat there for a while, cock buried inside you as both of you took in the cold air. “I love you so much” Miguel whispered as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his hands moving down to your dress and lifting the fabric back up your chest.

“Lets get you back home”

#smut #marvel smut #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara imagines #miguel ohara #miguel o hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o hara #kinktober

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tkingfisher · 1 year

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So I write all sorts of things (fiction, fanfic, screenplays) and my mind is cluttered garden of flowers and weeds and shiny ideas, and I'm wondering how to form a writing practice to clear it into tidy rows? Is it possible to shepherd untamed ideas into order?

How do you manage all your wonderful worlds, characters and inspiration and not feel haunted by the story bits and pieces in your head? Any practical tips beyond dark magic?

Thank you, you are such a constant inspiration for me, both prose and just your presence. <3

*laugh* Oh god, Nonny, if I ever find out, I’ll tell you! When you read books, you’re getting the Instagram-filtered view of a writer’s brain, all the flowers that grew out of the compost heap, carefully composed and shot in optimal lighting. The real inside of my skull is a magpie nest of Neat Shit I Read/Saw/Thought Up While Lying Awake At 2 AM. There are characters and ideas in there that I’ve been trying to get into a manuscript since I was twelve and typing on an Amiga 500.

But, that said…really, I think it’s okay. Creativity is inherently untidy. The compost heap can be corralled into a very pretty box made of sustainably harvested materials, hand-stained by traditional artisans being paid a living wage by an employee-owned company, but as soon as you lift the lid, it’s all worms and coffee grounds and old potting soil and cow shit and the vegetables you swore you were gonna eat this time before they went bad. That’s what compost is.

Nevertheless, having been in the business for…uh…fifteen years now? (@dduane is snickering at me, I can feel it) and having written nearly forty books, I can offer three bits of something less than advice. It’s what I do. It may not work for anyone else, but it’s what I do.

Un-Advice The First: If you get a shiny idea and you are super excited by it? Go ahead and chase it. Pull up a new page in Word or whatever and slap down a couple thousand words while it’s exciting. I know that this absolutely flies in the face of common wisdom, but quite frankly, my enthusiasm is a much rarer commodity than my time, so if I’m excited about something, I write it down until I’ve taken the edge off.

Then I usually save it into a big folder called “Fragments” and go back to work on whatever I’ve got a deadline on. (Usually. Sometimes the edge doesn’t wear off, and I wind up with another book. Which, y’know, darn.)

There are vast numbers of people who will tell you that a shiny idea is a sign that something is wrong with your current project and the solution is to knuckle down and work! through! it! And those people are probably right for them, and I trust they know how their own brains work. Me, though, I got ADHD like a bat has wings. My hard drive is a vast swamp of story beginnings, neat ideas, random scenes. And that’s okay because I still get books finished.

In fact, it’s better than okay. Not that long ago, my agent sent a novella to a publisher and they said “We’ll take that novella and three more novels. What’ve you got?” And I ended up plundering my hard drive and sending the editor a good dozen random beginnings until we found one that we both liked, and then I wrote the rest of that book. And then another one. If I hadn’t had all those fragments lying around, though, it would have been a miserable experience of writing book pitches and trying to think of stuff I could get excited about. (This may not be how some editors work, but it’s how my editor and I work, anyhow.)

Un-Advice The Second: Trust that everything will find a home eventually.

This one is easy to say and hard to do because sometimes you get that overload that if you’re writing the book about, say, werebear nuns, you aren’t writing the one about the alien crustaceans. Or worse, you feel guilty. If you don’t use that one cool thing, was all that time you spent on it wasted?

Breathe. Be easy. Every single cool thing does not need to go into a single book. There is no sell-by date on the neat character. You will probably write many books in your life and all those random characters will find a home. (Seriously, the werebear nuns were lurking for like a decade.)

For me, at least, when I find the spot where something fits, it often snaps into place like a Lego. Easton’s backstory as a soldier from a society where soldiers were a third sex had been kicking around in my head for a few years, derived from about three different sources, and then I wrote the opening to What Moves The Dead and all of a sudden Easton was there and alive and they had strong opinions about everything and I had ten thousand words practically before I turned around.

You can also stave off guilt by writing some of your ideas in as highly personal Easter Eggs. A couple of my books have references to a white deer woman, a heroic deed done by a saint and the ghost of a bird, and a woman with dozens of hummingbirds on tiny jeweled leashes. Those are all characters and stories I’ve had vague notions about, but haven’t managed to work in anywhere or learn much more about. Still, the passing reference is enough to make me feel like I haven’t abandoned them.

(The advantage to this is that once you DO write those in, the readers are all “oh my god, she foreshadowed this a decade ago, she must have planned this all out in advance!” Then you look really clever and well-organized and no one has to know that you have no idea what you’re doing.)

Un-Advice The Third: Write the kitchen sink book.

At one point, I had so many stray ideas that hadn’t gotten into a book yet—the tree of frogs, the dog-soldiers, the stained glass saint, the albatross and the shadow of the sun, and also I wanted to write something with Baba Yaga—that I hauled off and wrote a book where I just put in everything and the kitchen sink. It’s called Summer in Orcus. There are bits in there that I had been cooking in the mental compost heap for decades, but that weren’t enough on their own to sustain a whole book. The phrase “antelope women are not to be trusted” showed up in my head some time in college. It’s a fun little book and I’m proud of it, but it’s very much a patchwork quilt of weirdness. But it’s also written so that if later on, an antelope woman shows up in another book in another context, that just adds to their mythology, it doesn’t break canon or whatever.

(Pretty sure I’m not the only one who has done this, either. China Mieville has said that he wrote Perdido Street Station because what he really enjoyed was writing all the weird monsters.)

So yeah, that’s my advice, for what it’s worth. Some days I just tell all the fragments and ideas that I promise that I’ll get them a home eventually but I need to write this thing here now. Sometimes I throw down enough words to get the story stabilized and then I’m okay to move on. Sometimes I write multiple books simultaneously.

Any method you use to write the book, so long as it doesn’t hurt you or anyone else, is a perfectly valid method. If anyone tells you different, you send them to me.

(…god, I hope that was the question you were actually asking, Nonny, and that I didn’t go off on a completely different tangent when you just wanted to know how I keep track of a plot or something.)

#long #rambling #writing

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mizzarh · 5 months

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Couldn’t stop thinking about what would've happened if Matt actually answered the door, when Karen and Foggy showed up at his place completely wasted. So I made a few excerpts

[TRANSCRIPT: PANEL 1: Karen is laughing. Foggy bangs on the door: “Open the door Murdork!” PANEL 2: Matt opens the door: “You’re really making a lot of noise, Foggy”. Karen is giggling to herself. Foggy is excited: “He’s alive!" PANEL 3: Karen hiccups. Foggy puts his arm around Matt, visibly drunk: “Listen! Did I ever tell you that my mom really wanted me to be a butcher?”. Matt smiles to himself: “You don’t say” PANEL 4: Karen grabs Matt excitedly but stumbles over her words: “MATT! We HAVE to go to Mexico to pet.. the d-donkeys”. Matt humours her : “Right, what are we even doing here?” PANEL 5: Foggy has crashed on the couch and snores loudly PANEL 6: Matt supports Karen: “Let’s get you to bed, miss Page”. Karen is losing her balance: “sorry” PANEL 7: Karen lies in a bed while drifting off to sleep: “…the donkeys though..” PANEL 8: Matt looking softly at her: “get some rest” PANEL 9: Foggy is hungover on the couch: “Oh I’m so not drinking again. As in ever”. Matt is carrying two coffe mugs and smiles smugly: “rough morning?”. Karen is struggling next to Foggy:”I swear to god, Murdock”]

#and matthew being a smug dork while everyone else is hungover is just 100% him #i like these three ok <3 #daredevil #Matt Murdock #Foggy Nelson #please excuse the corny dialogue lol #charlie cox #deborah ann woll #elden henson #fanart #marvel #procreate

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hotmencore · 1 year

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"𝐈 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬" 𝐂𝐋𝟏𝟔

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x girlfriend!reader (she/her)

Summary: Charles is modelling for a magazine, and the photographer captures a heart warming moment between him and his girlfriend.

Warnings: None, pure fluff

Word count: 500+

A/N: I don’t know if i really like this or not, it was very rushed, so let me know what you think! Thank you for all the support so far, i really do appreciate it.

Likes and reblogs are much appreciated! Copying and reposts are not! My fics are only posted on tumblr, under this account, @hotmencore

Charles was shooting for GQ magazine, and asked for you to come with him, as he wanted you there to see the clothes and photos before the public and his fans could.

Everything went wonderful. The clothes Charles was to wear fitted him perfectly from head to toe, and truly complimented his good looks. You tried not to gawk at your boyfriend, but honestly, you couldn't help it. He just looked so handsome. There weren't too many outfits for him try on, but the photographer wanted many angles and poses from Charles, some even with his helmet. But you didn't mind, not one bit. Charles was travelling a lot, which was a given when you 'signed up' to the whole dating an f1 driver thing, and you also had your own job to think about. So when you were both able to be in Monaco for a while, you two wouldn't waste any opportunities in spending it with each other.

Charles was handed his last outfit to try on, whilst the photographer set the camera up for the last round of photos. Charles changed quicker than the photographer was done setting up, so took the opportunity to embrace his girlfriend.

"Chérie, come here" Charles softly beckons you to him.

You stand up from where you were sat behind the camera, and walk over to Charles stood in the middle of the floor with a grin. Straight away, his arms softly wrapped around your frame. One of his hands weaved delicately around your lower back, whilst the other lightly cupped your face, causing you to look up into his eyes. He looked so mesmerizing.

"You are so beautiful mon amour, i could simply look at you for hours" You could feel your face start to heat up. You had been dating for a long time, but he never failed to make you feel just as precious as he did the first night you two met.

Charles confirms the redness to your cheeks with a smile, as his forehead lowers to softly rest on yours, his hand now moving from your cheek, to now lovingly secure you in his hold with a link of his hands behind your back. You both just stayed there, looking into each others eyes. In that moment, it felt like no one or nothing else mattered in the world. It was just you two. Charles leaned down ever so slightly more, and softly pressed his lips to yours. Reciprocating immediately, your arms moved to rest on his biceps as you two shared your sweet moment.

Minutes after, Charles started on the home stretch for the shoot, as you resumed your position from behind the camera.

A few days later, the photos had been released, and a copy of the magazine came through your letterbox. You and Charles sat on the couch cuddled up together looking through the magazine for his article. All photos were absolutely perfect, and right at the end, one unfamiliar one revealed itself to you both. It was a photo of you and Charles, from the moment you shared at the shoot, your foreheads together as you both stared lovingly into each others eyes, smiles plastered on both of your faces. You must have not realized the photographer had completed her new set up, and she clearly found the moment too sweet not to capture in a photo.

Now, that page of glossy printed paper is hung up in your shared home, so that you can both treasure the memory as much as you treasured the moment.

#1000 likes? tysm!!!#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #f1 imagine #formula 1 #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc one shot #f1 x reader #charles leclerc fluff #cl16 #cl16 x reader #cl16 imagine #charles leclerc x yn

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anikaluv · 11 months

Text

JUST FOR PRACTICE —

❤︎︎ pairing: Miles (e!42) × fem!reader

❤︎︎ genre: fluff (slight angst?)

❤︎︎ cw: cussing, nail biting, Miles (e!42) is named Myles (creative Ik), Miles (e!42) teases reader a lil bit <3

❤︎︎ summary: Spider-Man!Miles and Prowler!Miles as Twins where you have a crush on Miles (e!1610) and Miles (e!42) suggests you make out with him for practice.

❤︎︎ w/c: 1.6k

❤︎︎ a/n: I was reading miles morales x reader fics then I thought of this and went “It would be so cool if someone wrote it”. Then I did, cause I’m a bitch who gets shit done. 😘

PART TWO EXTRA

You and Miles have been inseparable since y’all were born. You two seemed to be tied together like a knot. You could always fondly go back and look through memories of him holding your hand while leading you through forests, him sharing his PB&J’s with you during lunch time, and him protecting you numerous times from bullies as the years went by. He was always there for you.

So much that you’ve fallen head over heels for him.

Yet you were too scared to ruin the deep friendship you two have. Too terrified of the chance that everything you two had going to waste because of your feelings, so you kept to yourself.

Which leads you to the present day, you sit on Miles’ bed as he takes a shower before you start the study session you both had planned.

Nervously, you fidget with your fingers, eagerly awaiting his return. The truth is, you don't need these study sessions. As an all-A student, you grasp the subjects effortlessly. However, you seize any opportunity to spend time with Miles.

Your mind wonders as curious eyes scan his room and land on his sketchbook. Your instinctively get up and reach for it, not caring for the overstep of privacy because c’mon, you knew this guy before you knew how to walk.

Excitement courses through you as you eagerly flip through the pages, revealing beautiful sketches of family, sunflowers, among other things. However, as you reach the more recent pages, your heart starts to sink.

Gwanda, Miles' so-called friend who conveniently always seems to be "out of town," yet he never ceases to endlessly complement her and fills his sketchbook to the brim with pages of her. What's so extraordinary about her? You've known Miles since you both were starting to crawl, while she has only been in his life for a few months, and suddenly she's this incredible person?

With a heavy sigh, you set your sketchbook down, feeling your vision blur as you make your way back to sit on Miles' bed. Tears well up quickly as you bury your face in your hands, sobbing silently. Unfortunately, the sound of approaching footsteps awakens your senses. You hastily wipe your eyes with your sleeve, although it's already too late.

"Oh great, looks like la llorona (crybaby) is sobbing once more. What's the matter, ma?" Miles strolls in, his voice oozing with condescension. He leans against the doorway, owning a smug expression. You can't help but roll your eyes and let out an exasperated groan at the mere sight of him.

Myles Morales. The worst person you’ve ever met. You’ve always wondered how him and Miles are even related. Ever since you were little he’s been a stick up your ass. You would always go back and flinch through memories of him pulling your hair as you scream and cry, him destroying all of your brand new dolls because they “needed a makeover ” , and him notoriously bullying you numerous times mercilessly as the years went by. He was always there, annoying you.

You cross you arms and let out a exasperated huff as you turn away from him. “Don’t you have someone else to annoy Morales? I’m not in the mood.” Myles chuckles at your childish behavior and struts into the room to sit beside you.

He inspects your face, frowning at your red eyes and stuffy nose. “I’m serious, mami. Those pretty tears only look good on your face if I’m causing ‘em.“ Myles softly grabs your chin and moves your face towards his. He raised his fingers to softly wipe your tears as you look deeply into his eyes.

Your heart quickens yet instead you release the insult bubbling in your throat. "Thanks for your oh-so-worrisome concern, Morales," you retort, venom lacing your words. He smirks in response. “Anytime, princesa (princess). I’m serious though, you cryin’ cause of my brother again?” You nod slowly looking away from his pitying gaze.

You bite your nails as your eyes look around the room once more landing on Miles sketchbook. Pain flickers in your eyes, catching Myles' attention.

The realization settles in Myles which is showcased by his new scowl on his face. “Ah I see, Its cause of that lil’ white chick, right?” Your eyes widen at how Myles was able to guess it correctly, you nod again slowly and try to concentrate on breathing before you continue wailing. “I just don’t understand, what’s so special about her? Was I ever even special to him if I could be replaced so easily?” You clench your fists, digging your nails into the fabric of your jeans, scrunching them up as your lip quivers.

Myles sucks his teeth in annoyance, followed by a deep sigh that catches your attention. “Why don’t you just tell him this, ma? Bet that’ll make him realize what’s in front of him.” You quickly shake your head, rejecting the idea. "I can't. It's not that simple. If I confess how I truly feel, what if it ruins everything? I can't risk that," you explain anxiously. Myles rolls his eyes at your dramatic response.

"There's no way it would go down like that, but let's entertain your idea. Are you saying all it would take is courage for you to confess to him?" he asks, testing the waters. There’s a different look in Myles eyes, they’re filled with mischief as he slowly scoots towards you.

“Well, yeah, I guess? Why?" You answer your voice layered with curiosity at Myles newfound demeanor. You tilt your head in confusion, What was he planning?

A gasp escapes your lips as Myles firmly grabs you waist tightly. His big hands pull you against him harshly. Instantly his lips lock with yours, showcasing deep desire as his kisses you. Your eyes widen momentarily before you surrender, closing them gently and placing a hand on his chest.

You wrap your arms around Myles' neck, deepening the kiss, your tongues intertwining desperately. He tastes so sweet, like slightly burnt caramel. Your body molds into his, feeling the hard contours of his muscled yet lean chest beneath your palm as you press into him.

You let out a soft whine against his lips, the sound echoing with a mix of pleasure and longing. Your breaths become heavy, synchronized with the intensity of the moment. Your mind becomes fuzzy, confused how you got to this point.

"There's no way it would go down like that, but let's entertain your idea. Are you saying all it would take is courage for you to confess to him?"

“Well, yeah, I guess? Why?"

“Why not just practice the having the real thing wit me?” Myles watched you scoff at the idea and laughs softly.

“I’m serious, ma. C’mon, just for practice, it’ll only be fo a lil bit. Just imagine I’m him” Myles brings his face closer to yours making your noses brush against each other.

“It’ll only be for a sec right?”, you question Myles nods, sensing he’s winning you over. “Promise, mi alma (my soul)”

You nod your head, and that gave him everything he needed.

Now you have your arms wrapped around Miles neck, playing with his braids as he layers kisses across your collarbone, leaving a trail of tingling sensations in their wake. Myles tugs at your shirt rising it up to lay his hand against your waist skin to skin. The heat from his hand placed on your waist shoots heat throughout your body.

You begin to sway, your strength ebbing away as your mind becomes blissfully hazy. Myles, ever attentive, keeps you steady, his hand resting firmly on your back while the other remains securely on your waist. He rises slightly, locking eyes with you, a playful chuckle escaping his lips as he delights in your slightly intoxicated-like state.

“C’mon, mi vida, you can’t be tired yet. I just got you.” he playfully teases, causing your face to twist with confusion. You lean your head into his shoulder leaving kisses along his neck.

Myles takes up your hand and interlocks it with his fingers. He tilts your face up to him. You look into his eyes and see something there, you just can’t tell what. He places kisses laced with adoration across your face, feeling like lighting sparks erupting across your skin.

“Mami, I haven’t always been the nicest to you, I admit that, but I also wanna admit that I-“

Right on cue, you once again hear the steps of someone walking towards the room. It must be Miles finishing his shower.

Your suddenly feel a wash of consciousness rush through your senses as you try to shuffle and fix your wrinkled clothing and correct your shriveled hair. Myles watches you and smirks at your attempt to clean up.

Miles soon steps into the room wearing a fresh set of clothes, “Sorry it took me so long, I got way into my shower playlist haha. You ready to sta-“ He eyes land on you and Myles, you watch as his face turns to confusion.

“Imma take that as my sign to leave” Myles gets up and heads to the doorway and starts to head out, before he turns his neck around to say one more thing. “I’ll see you around, ma. Let me know if you ever need more practice aight?”

EXTRA: You hurriedly shuffle to your backpack to go get your notebooks and supplies you usually use for your study sessions. As you do that Miles can’t help but watch as his brother slowly struts out the room pride written all over his face. Miles swore that as his twin left the room his could see a lipstick stain adorning Myles’ neck.

ENDING A/N: Thank you for reading this- Ion know if imma keep writing I just felt like making this at 2 am lol. Also please lmk if this is fast paced or not, that was on my mind while writing this whole thing. 💀 Love ya’ll babes <3

TAGS:

#anika❤︎︎writes #miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales × reader #across the spiderverse #into the spider verse #miles morales spider man #prowler miles #earth 42 miles x reader #atsv miles #atsv #earth 42 miles morales x black!reader #earth 42 miles x you #earth 42 miles fluff

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blossomgaz · 4 months

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Dear readers around the world...

You reallyyyy need to understand that if you don’t like a trope or type of fanfiction, you can do so much. And no, one of the things isn’t talking shit about others on Twitter or in the tags of a post or the comments of the author. But I’ll give you the list:

Read the warnings; if it doesn’t meet your standards, scroll.

Block the writer, so you don’t see their work anymore.

Click “not interested” if it is ever suggested for you to read on your home or 'for you' page.

Block the specific tag of “dead dove”, “dark fic”, or anything else you do not enjoy.

Dark fics can be very triggering to the reader, I agree. Yet, at the end of the day, they aren’t hurting anyone apart of the story. The characters you are ranting about are absolute pixels or art of an artist in a comic. They won’t get offended or hurt (paraphrasing here: “Simon would hate you if he saw what you guys do”). Simon doesn’t exist. Simon is a character from a video game. From a comic. He won’t get offended. And the OG artists of Simon/COD? I swear to you that they, most probably, do not want to read fan fiction about their work, but, if they do, they will, indeed, read the warnings and scroll past if it doesn't satisfy their needs.

Speaking of warnings: all big fic writers (my experience) that write dark or even dead dove fics do warn you that they are posting such things in bold and red letters at the top of every single post. Help them help you, people. If you see those red letters, scroll past.

So, to conclude, you have a choice that doesn’t include calling writers rapists if they write non-con or dub-con, pedophiles if they write (legal) age gaps (since I think that is why this title even began on Twitter), incest-enjoyer because they write pseudo-incest, or a beastiality-enjoyer because they write about animal-human hybrids, etc.

LIFE IS TOO SHORT FOR YOU TO WASTE IT ON TRYING TO GET PEOPLE OFF FANDOMS OR OFF YOUR FANFIC HASHTAGS. JUST IGNORE THEM AND ENJOY THE WORK THAT YOU WRITE OR READ BY OTHER PEOPLE. AND, DURING THAT, LET OTHERS WRITE WHAT, if you go check their amount of followers and notes (and no, just to be clear, you don't need to open an explicit smut non-con fanfic to check those), A LOT OF PEOPLE ENJOY EVEN IF IT DOESN'T INCLUDE YOU.

Thank you.

#cod #call of duty #simon ghost riley #rant #ghost #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #cod x reader #cod mw2 #john soap mactavish #soap x reader #john price x reader #john price #konig x reader #konig cod #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick

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band--psycho · 1 year

Text

Harvey Specter x Reader- Stop Being So Stubborn

This story was requested by a lovely anon!!

Thank you so much for the request! (I'm also going to put this as a story for my A-Z Writing Challenge)

I hope you all enjoy this! 💛

Third Person POV

“Looks like Y/ns finally gone home,” Mike stated, sipping his coffee before looking over at the office across from Harvey’s.

Pretty much everyone at the office has been telling her to go home and rest; Harvey knew that even though he was one of the very few people who hadn’t said those words to her, partially because he didn’t want to get his head bitten off.

“I wouldn’t be so sure on that,” Harvey replied, not lifting his eyes from his paperwork once.

Y/n was as stubborn as he was, he knew her and he knew that just because she wasn’t in her office didn’t mean that she’d gone home.

On late shifts such as these, the most common place to find Y/n was down in the library.

So once Mike left, a few moments after their conversation, that’s where Harvey headed, but not before stopping off in the kitchen to make Y/n a much needed hot drink.

“I thought I’d find you here,” he said as he entered the room.

A small sigh left Y/ns lips, “Congratulations on using your excellent detective skills,Mr Specter.”

The sarcasm in her voice was clear, as was the frustration at the interruption.

“It wasn’t that hard, I could hear you sneezing from the hallway,” Harvey pointed out as he made his way closer to her:

“If you’re here to tell me to go home you’re wasting your breath,” she mumbled; her slightly bloodshot eyes fixed on the book infront of her.

Harvey was silent for a few moments as he sat down on the chair next to her and placed the drink he’d made her next to her, before saying, “You need to rest,”

He could tell she hadn’t been sleeping, not because of her snappy mood but because of the dark circles under her eyes.

For a brief second her eyes left the page and glanced over at the hot drink now next to her.

“I’ll rest when this case is over,” she mumbled, turning her attention back to the book she was reading.

“If you don’t rest, you’ll make yourself worse and potentially lose the case,” Harvey was trying to be reasonable; make Y/n see that there was no way she could go into court and present the case, when she was like this, and win.

He knew how hard she’d been working on this case and how much she wanted to impress everyone by winning it; the case meant a lot to her, he didn’t want her own stubbornness to be the reason she lost it. He didn’t want all her hard work to have been for nothing.

“I’m fi-”

Before Y/n even got the chance to finish that sentence she went into a coughing fit; which then made her eyes water.

“You were saying?” Harvey said with raised eyebrows as he looked at Y/n and nudged the hot drink closer to her.

“Shut up,” Y/n mumbled, sipping on the hot drink he’d made her, hating that she’d inadvertently proved Harvey right, but also savouring the brief relief the hot drink provided her throat.

“Sweetheart-” Harvey began; his eyes soft as he looked at her, silently urging her to just stop being so damn stubborn.

“I need to finish this case,” the bluntness in her reply was an evident sign of her frustration; and the fact that Harvey only ever called her sweetheart when he was worried about her.

“And you can,” he assured her as he placed his hand on top of hers lightly, it made a small wave of relief wash over Y/n, knowing that she didn’t have to fight him about this anymore; because she didn’t have the energy to do so.

That was until a singular word made all of that relief vanish, “Tomorrow”

“Harvey-”

“If you don’t, I’ll tell Jessica to give the case to someone else,” Harvey interrupted, trying to ignore the guilt that gnawed at his heart when he saw the anger building in her y/e/c eyes.

It was a low blow; he knew that, but he was running out of options .

“You wouldn’t,”

“Do you really want to test that theory?”

“Blackmailing is illegal, you know,”

Of course he knew.

But he also just didn’t really care about that.

He cared about her.

And making sure that she got the rest she so clearly needed.

“I’m aware, but if it means you can get some rest then I’m willing to do it,”

Y/n stared at him; as if trying to work out if he was serious about the threat he just made.

“Fine,” she sighed in defeat as she closed the book she was reading.

“Good,” Harvey concurred, “now drink your drink so we can get out of here,”

The shock was evident in Y/ns eyes at his words.

“I can get home by myself,” she stated bluntly, putting her bay over her shoulder.

“It’s 10pm, in the middle of winter and you have a cold, like hell are you walking home, I’ll drop you there,” Harvey wasn’t asking; he was telling her that this was happening.

He didn’t want her walking home, alone, not this late.

“I need to go to the store-”

“What’s this?” She asked cutting off her own sentence as Harvey handed her a small bag.

“I asked Donna if she could get some medicine from the store,” Harvey explained.

It wasn’t much, just some cold and flu relief, throat sweets, painkillers for the headaches he knew she got.

He watched as the anger that had been burning in her eyes began to dwindle, “If I didn’t have a cold right now I would kiss you.”

The words came out of her mouth before she could stop them; but she didn’t regret them, not really.

Her and Harvey had always been close and especially recently, their connection only seemed to grow.

Harvey tried to stop a beaming smile from touching his lips but he couldn’t.

“How about we take a rain check for when you’re better, I’ll even take you out for dinner,if you want?” Harvet asked, and although he looked calm, his heart was racing so fast he was almost sure Y/n could hear it.

“Mr Specter, are you asking me out on a date?”

“Miss Y/l/n I believe you were the one who said you wanted to kiss me,” Harvey countered, “and yes, yes I am,”

He didn’t give her time to answer; they could discuss all of this tomorrow right now, it was getting later and Harvey was aware of that.

“Now let’s get you home.”

Tagging:

@little-diable @rebelwrites @xacatalepsyx @wild-rose-35 @withmyteeth @yn-ymn-yln @munsinner @maximoff-xmen @vintagecarsandrecordplayers @book-dragon03 @bookworm1767 @fangirlfandomss @wretchedmo @mayans-mc @dana-is-snax @happilysparklyunknown @samanthaofanarchy @mrsamerica @navs-bhat @tinystudentmiracle @that-one-enthusiast @malfoys-demigod

#harvey specter #harvey specter x reader #harvey specter imagine #harvey specter imagines #suits x reader #suits harvey specter #harvey specter suits

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undeadcannibal · 1 year

Note

Could you do headcannon of the Taskforce 141 boys having a civilian fem!spouse? I’m not a soldier so I am curious to see what they are like and how they meet said spouse. ❤️

Summary: Headcanons for how Price, Soap, Ghost, and Gaz meet their civilian SO

Genre: Headcanons, request(s) Characters featured: Price, Soap, Ghost, and Gaz!

Warnings: none!

A/N: Hopefully you enjoy these! I had fun coming up with different ways they’d meet ‘em. ( Gif credit: xxx )

Price―

He’d be in the middle of a discussion with some of his friends when one of them casually mentions the name of a dating app that’s supposedly hot right now.

At first, he doesn’t care. Reassures himself he’s too old and busy to waste his time with such a thing... until he has a rough night during his downtime. Loneliness weighing heavily on him to the point he finds himself downloading the damn app during a moment of weakness.

At first, he doesn’t use it much. His profile is simple: he’ll post a few photos of himself, vaguely mention what he does for a living, what he’s looking for. And that’s that for a few months. Whenever he had the time, he’d swipe through a couple profiles here and there, but nothing serious had ever come from it.

Until 6 months later, when he finds himself humoring that deep ache in his heart, browsing through profile after profile until he lands on yours.

He knows better than to be fooled by looks, but he’d also be a liar if he said that he wasn’t smitten with you the moment he’d laid eyes on your photo. With a swipe, he silently hopes that the two of you will match, and when you eventually do, he’s over the moon but plays it as cool as he possibly can.

When he takes you out after talking for a while, he properly wines and dines you, doesn’t even kiss you after the first date either. Instead, he’d taken your hand in his and kissed it before asking if he can take you out again.

It takes a few years, but when he proposes, he goes all out in every way possible but makes sure to keep it all private. He can’t stand public proposals.

Soap―

He was home for the holiday season when he’d met you in a super market. You’d looked as lost as ever when browsing the food, so he couldn’t help but ask if you were okay. You mentioned that you were shopping for a relative but weren’t local so you had no idea where to even begin.

He’d helped you grab everything you needed before he felt a rush of anxiety hit him like a train. He’ll never understand what drove him to feel as if he couldn’t let you go without at least asking for your number, but he was thankful for it for the rest of his life.

You’d talk to one another over the phone throughout your entire stay and long afterwards too... By the time the holidays are rolling around again, the two of you had been long-distance for quite sometime, but it’d be the first time seeing you in person after so long. After spending the holiday together between both of your homes, Johnny can’t help but want to keep you in his life for as long as you’ll allow it.

2 years down the line, the two of you are visiting his family again when he decided to propose to you, and when you accepted, best believe both him and his family were excited and quick to initiate a group hug in celebration.

Ghost―

When Simon is off duty, he doesn’t know what to do with himself. He struggles with finding things to keep himself occupied while he’s home. Stress and other emotions make even the simplest of tasks difficult for him. So, over time, he’d developed a habit of heading down to a local park to try and relax. Sometimes he’d take a book, other times he simply sat at a bench and allowed himself to get lost in his own mind. Mostly, he’d sit in silence and just enjoy watching the world pass him by.

One day when he’s walking over to his usual bench, he sees you there with a book in one hand and a drink in another. Captivated by the words on the page to the point that you don’t even notice him when he sits down on the opposite end of it, not saying a word or even glancing at you afterward. Instead, he simply watches you out of his peripheral vision. Wondering what you’re reading that has you so engaged.

He didn’t speak to you then. Instead, he’d allowed it to happen a few more times until you finally broke the silence between you two. Glancing up at him from behind your book with a shy smile as you introduced yourself to him. Behind a dark disposable mask, Ghost’s lips quirk upwards into the smallest of grins, thankful that you’d taken initiative. After you greet him, you do your best to make the occasional small-talk before you’ve to leave.

The same thing happens a few more times before he finds himself purchasing a burner phone just so he can give you a number to reach him at.

From there, the two of you would get to know one another better, sharing park dates together before you began to suggest other types of dates. Next thing Simon knew, the two of you were officially together and he was absolutely mad about you, thinking about you every second of his days. Despite the fact, he’s a complicated man with a lot of baggage, so he takes his time with your relationship.

4 years later, he’s the one to beat you to the punch and proposing to you in the very same park you met at after he takes you on a picnic.

Gaz―

IMO, Gaz seems like the type to frequent a coffee shop/cafe he enjoys to the point he’s basically a regular. Has his own favorite table, order, and everything. That is, until one day he arrives a bit later than usual and he sees you sitting there.

Normally, he would have just let you have the table but before he could even turn away to find another one, you were asking him if everything was alright. He couldn’t find it in himself to say yes and turn away. Instead, he somehow manages to not only ask if you two can share the table, but give you a dazzling smile after he does so as well. Taking special notice in how you had blushed afterward.

He wouldn’t ask you out right away. Instead, he’d build up to it. Gives you his number that first day so you two can get to know one another better while he’s off duty. He has to head back for another mission soon, but rest assured whenever he has any time off and it’s safe to do so, he’s spending all of his free time messaging and calling you. Getting to know you better.

Eventually, after the two of you have spent a few unofficial coffee dates together, he works up the courage to ask you out on a proper date. He’s upfront - but vague - about what he does and how it can affect his free time, but thankfully, you never cared. Instead, you’re just happy he finally asked you out after months of beating around the bush.

After your first date together, it’s all downhill from there. He’d fallen head-over-heels for you to the point even his fellow Task Force members noticed and teased him about it. Even more so after he’d gush about how he swears “you’re the one”

Little did they know by the end of the next year, the two of you would be engaged~

#call of duty x reader #task force 141 x reader #john price x reader #soap x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #gaz x reader #headcanons #cod headcanons #requests #opened mail #my writing

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eldritch-thrumming · 5 months

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watched that new jennifer lawrence comedy on netflix and like. should we make it steddie?

steve’s a rich kid who grew up having to be self sufficient because of his parents traveling constantly for work. he’s basically a mini adult, but because of that, he sees himself as a lot more mature than the rest of the people his age and by the time he’s ready for college, he’s missed out on a lot of the social milestones that young men his age are experiencing. instead of going to prom, he’d hung out around the house with his weird nerdy band geek best friend having marshmallow eating contests and watching bad rom coms. instead of going to graduation parties, the two of them had built a tent in the harringtons massive backyard and gone night swimming before camping out.

enter his parents, who are less worried abt steve coming out of his shell for his own independence and comfort and more worried that he’ll embarrass them at his ivy league in the fall. there’s been a long line of harrington men attending yale and they’ve paid a lot of money to even get steve a spot there, so if he fucks this up, if he doesn’t join the right clubs and make the right friends, they’re worried it’ll all be a waste.

so they put an ad on craig’s list. eddie and his bandmates are trolling the boards, looking for any odd jobs they can find to try and raise the cash they need to record a demo at the local studio. jeff points it out as a joke and, after laughing at the poor pathetic dweeb whose parents think he’s such a dud they’re trying to set him up with a stranger, they scroll on. but later that night, eddie pulls up the page on his own phone while he’s lying in bed. the offered amount is more than enough to pay for their studio time and then some. eddie calls them and sets a meeting.

when he gets to the harringtons beach house, he’s nervous. he’s a townie and townies are rarely invited into the massive homes that line the shoreline. he knows what he looks like and he knows that the rich tourists who infest the beachside towns every summer tend to steer clear of him when they see him around.

but he needs the money and after meeting with the couple, he thinks this kid probably needs all the help he can get and so he decides to meet their son steve.

turns out steve’s a lot more attractive than he’d imagined and he’s only a couple of years younger than eddie is. he’s also a lot more flirty and charismatic than eddie had assumed. turns out, steve doesn’t lack the ability to make friends or get dates, he just really hasn’t been interested in anyone… at least, not until now.

they hit it off almost immediately. eddie’s never had this much fun with anyone he’s ever tried to date before. steve is funny and smart in very specific ways and his best friend, robin, is a riot. eddie’s not sure how steve’s parents don’t see any of that, but then steve tells him all about how he’d grown up basically alone, how he’d had to make a lot of his own fun growing up, how he’d rarely ever even seen his parents between the ages of 11 and 18. they hadn’t even made it to his high school graduation. steve reveals to eddie that he’s not even sure he wants to go to yale at all, that he only agreed because he’s not sure what else to do.

and eddie tells steve about his dad, abt how he’d gone to jail when eddie was 13, on a job with eddie in tow. he tells steve abt how his mom was heartbroken afterwards, would barely get out of bed to even pick him up from school. he tells steve abt the car accident, the flashing lights of the police car that had picked him up one day and taken him to a foster home before wayne had been called down from upstate to come collect him. wayne had moved out onto the island, trying not to disrupt eddie’s life more than he had to, but prices down here were so much higher and he’d had to work all the time. he’d done so much for eddie and eddie is so grateful… he just wants to pay him back anyway he can.

they reveal things to each other no one else knows and suddenly, as the summers coming to a close, eddie realizes that he’s been falling in love this whole time. but before he can tell steve abt the deal, before he can apologize and come clean and confess his feelings, steve has some kind of massive blowout with his dad. and his dad—in all his anger—tells steve the truth. he tells steve how steve is so pathetic that he and his mom had had to buy him a boyfriend.

steve is, obviously and understandably, beyond devastated. he confronts eddie with tears in his eyes, begging eddie to tell him it isn’t true, that his dad was a liar and he’d just known where to hit him hardest. but eddie can’t deny it. that is how all this started.

eddie doesn’t see steve again, not around town, not at any of their usual haunts, and soon the school year is starting. steve, eddie assumes, has moved into his dorm at yale and is, hopefully, making new friends. by the time thanksgiving break comes around, eddie can finally think about steve with only a tiny ache in his chest. he and the band have recorded their first demo, thanks to that harrington money, complete with the saddest love song eddie’s ever written.

and suddenly steve is there in the bar eddie works at, where he’d been taking steve on their nights out all summer. his brown hair looks extra soft and he’s wearing a quarter zip with the yale logo emblazoned over his heart. they stand there and stare at each other for a moment too long before they both try to speak at the same time.

“no, me first,” steve says, and eddie really can’t deny him this. he’s the one who ruined everything, after all. “what you did to me was terrible.” it’s straightforward and factual, but eddie’s face burns. “you hurt me. a lot.” eddie watches as steve swallows. “i told you things i’ve never said out loud.” eddie opens his mouth to speak, but steve powers through. “but now i’m up in connecticut and i’m meeting all these new people. and some of them are great. but i can’t help but compare them to you. everyone i meet, i think of you. and no one is as fun as you, and no one makes me feel as good. no one sees me like you did.”

eddie’s speechless for a moment, mouth dry. he swallows. steve’s looking at him expectantly. “i was always honest abt how i felt about you, stevie. i really was falling in love with you. or… i mean…” eddie pauses, runs a hand through his hair. “i mean, i love you. i am in love you, like, currently. ongoing. probably in perpetuity which, uh, you know. is like, forever or whatever.”

“yeah?” steve asks softly, a small smile curving on his lips. “forever or whatever?”

eddie can feel himself returning that small smile, nodding. “yeah,” he responds, “ no biggie, though.”

steve laughs. “i kind of disagree. cause i don’t know abt you, but i’ve never been loved in perpetuity before. seems pretty big to me.” eddie shrugs as he watches steve close the distance, smiles widening. “i’m pretty sure i love you too, you know.”

“pretty sure?”

“i’m trying to be a little aloof abt it. not reveal my whole hand too soon.” they’re standing chest to chest now, eddie can feel steve’s breath on his face, they’re so close.

“right. makes sense,” eddie murmurs, staring steve’s wet pink mouth. and then they’re kissing.

and they kiss until gareth comes into the bar for the start of his and eddie’s shared shift and turns the club soda spout on them.

they have a lot to talk abt. but thanksgiving break is a whole week long and after that it’s only two weeks until winter break. eddie has a lot of time to make it all up to steve, in any way he can, in perpetuity.

#steddie #here have this thing is this anything???#steddie au #steddie ficlet #steddie rom com au #steddie blurb #steddie fanfiction #steddie ficlets #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fanfic #steve harrington x eddie munson

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