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motherlvr · 11 months

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Your Morally Gray Neighborhood Spider-woman

SPOILERS FOR ATSV, this includes the plot of ATSV

Word count: 2.9k

Pairing: Prowler! Miles Morales x Spider-woman! Reader, Earth 1610! Miles Morales & reader

This is a continuation of Part 1 but may be read as a stand-alone. this will probably be the last part of this for now, thank you for reading!

Summary: During a minor identity crisis, you question your morals. Further adding to your list of problems, it seems like Miles has a twin brother he failed to mention to you.

Warnings: nothing too serious, established relationship with Prowler! Miles, possessive miles, Major spoilers for ATSV, not canon, minimal cursing, jealousy, reader is so silly sometimes, i got sappy at the end sorry, fluffy ending

A/N: just know that if u interact with any of my works then i literally love u with all my heart

You weren't sure where your morals lie, but you assumed they were in the gray area. Matter of fact, you must be colorblind.

Could you even be considered a Friendly Neighborhood Spider-woman anymore? You were sure it was against your moral code to be dating a guy that you had previously described as a "cold-blooded killer." Who were you now? The Morally Gray Neighborhood Spider-woman? It wasn't nearly as catchy. Maybe you were an anti-hero now. Is it possible for a Spider-person to be an anti-hero? Surely not, you thought.

Interrupting your thoughts was the buzz of a phone. Miles' phone. You soon realized your present state, burrowed against your boyfriend on his bed. He had a suffocating grip on you, like he was afraid you'd disappear if he let go. Letting you get a breath of air, he loosened his grip on you to check his notification.

He slowly unwrapped his arms from around you and started to rise from the bed. He pressed his lips to yours before saying, "Lo siento, mami. Uncle Aaron needs me." He started putting on his Prowler gear.

To be frank, you were sick and tired. You've heard the same excuse over and over from Miles. At this point, you didn't understand why he was being so cryptic. What secret is there to hide if you already know he's the Prowler?

"Miles, enough with that vague shit. You keep acting like you're Batman or something." You sass, rolling your eyes at him and laying up in his bed. It was surprising how much he let you get away with. If anyone else had said that to him, he'd claw their throats out, surely.

"Let me come with you, Miles." You suggested, immediately jumping off his bed to follow him. He didn't like that idea. Not one bit, and it was clear on his face. "Hermosa," Miles started, but you interrupted him, pointing a finger at his face. "You know damn well I am fully capable of protecting myself. Just let me into your life, Miles. I want to see what's so important that you have to go and ditch your girlfriend yet again." You dramatically sigh, hoping he'll cave. After a few moments, Miles eventually gave in. "Fine. C'mon, princesa." He sighed and gestured for you to follow him.

He led you to what seemed to be a sketchy, dull, and grimy basement. If he wasn't infatuated with you, you'd wonder whether he was plotting to murder you down here. Upon further inspection, it was actually an apartment. As your eyes scanned the eerie room, you noticed chains hanging on the walls and an abnormal amount of weapons. However, there was also a large flatscreen and a kitchen. You could only assume that this was their Prowler Cave.

Other than the random civilian tied up on a punching bag, it looked like a fairly normal room. Almost cozy, if you were being generous.

Speaking of, why was there some poor boy restrained on a punching bag? You could barely see him due to the punching bag being larger than him, but from your current standpoint, you could only assume he was around your age or younger.

Miles stepped in front of you, holding a hand out to prevent you from taking a step further. Curling your lip in a frown, you shooed his hand away and continued walking, but stopped before the hostage could spot you. He stayed behind, lurking in the corner.

Miles' uncle greeted you both, "I've got a surprise for y'all." Apparently, Miles had let his uncle know in advance that you were welcome into his Prowler cave.

Miles, ever loving his dramatic entrances, jumped down from the corner he was lurking in. You had to stifle your laugh.

Uncle Aaron rotated the punching bag, revealing the unfortunate boy that got restrained upon it. Your jaw fell to the ground. You couldn't believe what you were seeing. How was this possible? You started to wish you had paid attention during Physics.

Attached to the punching bag was a near-identical copy of your beloved boyfriend. His eyes were wide full of fear, and for a second, you felt pity for him. Uncle Aaron left the room, leaving only you and the two Miles.

"Your dad is still alive?" Miles asked his impersonator, astonishingly unfazed by the fact that there was a copy of him staring him directly in his eyes. "What?" The impersonator questioned. "Your father, you said he's still alive." Miles repeated, his voice piquing with interest. "Yeah." The copy replied in a low voice. His face had no remnants of fear, it morphed into confusion instead. "Who are you?" The fake Miles asked, his eyebrows furrowing. He reminded you of your boyfriend in that way.

Your dearly beloved Prowler opened his mask, "I'm Miles Morales. But you, you can call me the Prowler." He said, his accent exposing. Those simple two sentences had more of an effect on you than they should have.

"If I don't go home, our dad is going to die." The fake Miles says with fear in his voice. "Your dad." Miles interjects coldly, lacking sympathy. The hope was slowly fading from the other Miles' face. He shook his head and said, "Please, you have to let me go." with more assertiveness than before. Your boyfriend leaned closer to the fake, "Why would I do that?" he inquired.

Deciding to interrupt their stare-down, you stepped out of the darkness and made yourself known to the fake Miles.

His face lit up with recognition. He whispered your name, "Is that you?"

"First off, how do you know my name?" You questioned, raising a confused brow. This whole situation was starting to creep you out. As you stepped closer to him, both of your spider-senses went off.

"You're like me." You both said in unison.

Your boyfriend was watching this interaction, narrowing his eyes. The fake Miles was only giving your boyfriend more reasons to keep him confined here.

"Look, you've got to help me. In my universe, you were my girlfriend too. Except you weren't Spider-woman. Don't you have a sense of morality? Hasn't anyone told you that with great power comes great responsibility?" The poor guy was practically begging you. You were sure that if he wasn't tied up on a punching bag, he'd be on his knees pleading with you. Which would be a fun sight to watch, you think.

You scoffed at the fake Miles Morales and replied, "You said it wrong. It's, with great ability comes great accountability." Rolling your eyes. This impersonator couldn't even get the quote right.

"That's not-" He cut himself off. "Whatever. You've got to help me, please." The fake Miles pleaded with you. He started to glitch, this universe was taking a toll on him already. As you stared into his eyes, he reminded you of a miserable, dejected puppy. Unbeknownst to you, the less-menacing Miles Morales was only stalling to charge up his venom strike.

Fortunately for him, he didn't need to resort to his venom strike just yet. That would only make this situation harder for him to get out of. He wasn't planning on getting on the bad side of another Spider-person.

"I think we should help him." You broke the silence, turning to your Miles. He was about to argue with you when you continued, "Not only because he's a fellow spider-person, but also because it's harder to resist someone when they look exactly like you, Miles." You grinned, teasing him.

As always, Miles couldn't deny you. He growled to his other self, directing the clone's attention away from you. "You're lucky my girl was here to save you this time, spider. I would've had no issue leaving you here to watch you rot."

As you untied Miles from the punching bag, he mouthed a "Thank you" to you and said,

"Do you guys happen to have a watch that can teleport me back home?" in all seriousness. It was almost comical. "No, but maybe I could help you out." You responded. "I have a good friend, Peter Parker. He's a scientist that specializes in quantum physics, I bet he could help. He works at Alchemax." His eyes seemed to lighten, "You know a Peter Parker?"

On the way to Alchemax, your boyfriend decided the phony version of himself was getting too comfortable with you. He was asking you way too many questions such as,

"How did you become Spider-woman?" The same way you did, Miles.

"How long have you been Spider-woman?" Ever since I got bit by a spider.

"Why are you with the Prowler?" He's not such a bad guy. A few seconds passed and you said, Nevermind. But that's what makes it exciting. You wink at him.

And that's when your lover decided to step in. He interrupted whatever Miles #2 was going on about. "Shut up for once." He snarled at him, towering over his clone. Within a second, your boyfriend had his copy in his grip with his razor-sharp claws in his face, a warning. You noticed sparks flying from the other Miles' fingertips. Why don't I have electric powers? You pondered. Not wanting to witness a homicide today, you pulled your boyfriend away before he could get the chance to slaughter himself. Or at least the morally good version of himself.

Your Miles snaked his arm around your waist possessively. He glared at the other Miles through his screen mask, but you were sure Miles #2 felt his sinister stare. He and you were walking a few paces ahead of his duplicate.

Some days, you weren't sure whether you wanted to kiss him or throttle him during his sleep. Although you couldn't deny that a part of you liked seeing him like this.

“Settle down, babe. He’s not my type.” You reassured him. He almost felt appeased, until he rethought your words. “Not your type? Mami, we look almost identical.” Your Miles said with irritation in his tone. You laughed at his confusion as you shook your head.

Although they were nearly identical in appearance, you noticed clear differences. For instance, your Miles had an intimidating and menacing presence. While the other Miles had more of a "Friendly Neighborhood Spider-man" energy to him.

"No, I mean, he's a little too dorky for me." Your boyfriend seemed to approve of your response, gazing at you. You shivered under his watch.

“I heard that." Miles #2 muttered, following behind you two.

Miles’ gaze was still set on you. He didn’t intend on breaking it any time soon. Although you couldn't exactly see his eyes, you could feel his stare. Nervously glancing the other way, you avoided eye contact. Because you knew that if you looked at him again, you'd pull him in and wouldn't be able to pull away. You felt like you were pinning for him all over again.

You glanced back at him, "Miles, stop staring at me. I might kiss you.” In an instant, his mask was off. He pulled you into a searing kiss, cupping your head with his hands. You reciprocated immediately.

His kiss was demanding and forceful. You could hear the thump of your heart, increasingly becoming louder. It was only a few moments long but felt like forever. He pulled away sooner than you'd liked, leaving you desiring more. “Had to show him that you’re my girl. Sólo mía. Right, princesa?” He stared into your eyes, making your heart pound impossibly faster. You cheekily nodded, the words being lost on your tongue. Miles smirked in satisfaction and closed his mask as you all approached Alchemax.

You strode into Alchemax like it was your second home and looked for Peter's office. Your boyfriend treaded right by your side, while the other Miles strayed behind you like a lost puppy. Which essentially, he was.

Successfully finding Peter's door wide open, you knocked. He looked up from his pile of work. Peter greeted you with a smile, "Come on in. It's great to see you, kid. But, uh, why is the Prowler in my office?" He said to you, his voice barely above a whisper. The Prowler in question was menacingly yet quietly standing in the corner of Peter's office.

Peter looked slightly green, but you consoled him. "Oh, don't mind him. He's my boyfriend." You shrugged. Peter shot you an extremely concerned look, judging your taste in guys, no doubt.

You simply smiled and patted him on the shoulder, "But anyway, Peter. This is Miles, he’s from a different dimension." You pointed at Miles, who stood stiffly next to you.

"We were hoping you could help us create an inter-dimensional teleporter. Or rather, a watch that can jump universes?" You told Peter.

The scientist seemed fascinated by this information about the multiverse. “That's a specific request. Lucky for you guys, I've been working on a prototype. Be wary that it is just a prototype, so there's no guarantee it'll work." Peter said.

"Great! I just have to make sure I get out of here before I either glitch to death or Miguel and his spider-team show up to beat me to death." Miles awkwardly said, scratching the back of his head. His glitching issue was getting worse the more time he spent in your universe.

Spider-team? No one's ever told you about this. If this "Spider-team" really did exist, why weren't you invited? No, you take that back. You could name a couple of reasons why you weren't invited, starting with your boyfriend who was standing next to you in his full Prowler suit. This is what you deserve for not being a Friendly Neighborhood Spider-woman, you sigh.

"Let's hope this works then." Peter says with an unsure tone. He cuffs the watch around Miles' wrist and changes the settings.

Silence falls upon the room as you all observe the watch flash for a moment, and then go dim again. How anti-climactic.

"Oops, sorry guys. Wrong settings." Peter Parker awkwardly laughed and fumbled with the watch again, and then said "Alright, this one should work."

Suddenly appearing to your right is a captivating portal of sorts. It was in the shape of multiple hexagons and had an orange hue. You couldn't take your eyes off of it, you'd never seen something so alluring. Other than your boyfriend, that is. You chuckled at your inner monologue.

Peter was ecstatic, “The other scientists doubted multiversal travel existed, but this is a critical discovery in the history of science!”

Miles, the Spider-Man one, was bewildered. He could finally go home and save his father. “Dude, this is awesome! I can't thank you guys enough. Maybe I'll see you guys again sometime." He smiled, referring to Peter and you.

Miles #2 seemed to be leaning in for a hug when your boyfriend interjected. He stood in front of you and glared at the phony version of himself, "Not too friendly now." he scowled.

“Chill, man! I didn’t mean it like that!" Instead, Miles gives you a two-fingered salute and fist-bumps Peter. "See you around." He finally says, jumping into the portal and wasting no additional time.

The portal closed behind him and you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride. Maybe you weren't a morally gray neighborhood spider-woman after all.

Who were you kidding? You're dating a murderous asshole. You must've been guilty by association.

You just hoped that the dorkier version of your boyfriend made it to his universe, and wasn’t sent to a completely different one yet again.

Shaking off the thoughts, you told the scientist, "Thank you, Peter! You were a big help." You hugged Peter and waved him goodbye. "Anytime, kid." He replied. Your prowler followed you out, his hand settling on your waist.

As you returned to Miles' house, you sat on his bed with him and said, "You know, your cooperation has to count for something. Even if you were just brooding the whole time."

"I'm the Prowler. I wasn’t brooding, ma.”

"Whatever you say." You rolled your eyes at him. "Anyway, you didn't kill him, so that's a start. I'm proud of us!" You gleamed at him as you mentally patted yourself on the back.

"You know I love you, ma. But you talk too much." Miles said, pulling you by the waist into his embrace.

You knitted your eyebrows as you replied, "Babe. It runs in every Spider-person. Didn't you hear how-" This time, Miles was the one shutting you up by pressing his lips to yours in a surprisingly soft kiss. His gentle lips moved against yours, and you couldn't help but melt into his touch.

You smiled into the kiss, deepening it. You didn't need words to show him how deep your affection for him lies. If you could, you'd freeze time to forever stay in his hold.

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Dating the public’s enemy number one had to be diminishing your PR. Not that you had one, anyway.

Initially, you worried that your terribly different lifestyles would inevitably lead to the end of your relationship. The Prowler and Spider-woman was an unlikely combination, after all. You snuck out at night to fight crime and restore justice, while he snuck around with his uncle to be a hitman of Kingpin. But you loved him like no one else could.

He invoked emotions in you that you weren't completely familiar with. Your mind was consumed by thoughts of him. You couldn't breathe with him around, nor could you control how fast your heart throbbed. But you would gladly suffocate if he was the one taking your breath away.

And you had a feeling that your sentiment wasn't unrequited.

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hermosa - beautiful

lo siento - i'm sorry

sólo mío - only mine

princesa - princess

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euaphoric · 7 months

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🕸️ KINKTOBER - DAY 2. 🕸️

Differences

[PAIRING] haechan x f!reader

[GENRE] college au, popular jock x loner, pwp [WARNINGS] angst?, smut, lowkey perv!hc, dry humping, premature ejaculation

summary: haechan was everything you’re not: popular, wealthy, multitalented, and otherworldly attractive. you despise people that get everything handed to them, wanting nothing to do with him— until you get paired up as partners for a project together…

wc -> 2.2k

A/N: so uhhh, this was very much not supposed to be this long but sometimes i just keep going and don’t know when to stop tbh .-. alsoo i hit 1k followers today thanks sm it rlly means a lot 🫶🫶

kinktober m.list

“fuckk, it’s pouring!” you shrill from the sudden heavy downpour, hovering your chemistry textbook over your head which barely shields anything. of course you didn’t predict these weather conditions (and didn’t bother to check your weather app beforehand) so you thought not to bring a jacket. it’s not like it was some light drizzle going on either, it was raining buckets outside— and you were so fucked. you pick up your speed, practically sprinting to the bus stop, completely forgetting that haechan was right behind this whole time. it honestly still hasn’t fully clicked in your mind that you were now lab partners and had to work together for the entire remaning semester. you weren’t thrilled about it, frankly, you were hoping anyone but haechan but since you have the worst possible luck known to existence, you got paired with him by a random draw. now you’re stuck with him for the next 3-4 months…

“damn, i think that’s the first time i’ve ever heard you curse,” haechan quickly catches up with you, taken aback by your choice of language, “wait- here, take this.” he pulls his football letterman jacket off his body, slinging it around your shoulders. “uh- no it’s okay, i’ll be fine.. don’t worry!” you shook your head to refuse but haechan just kept insisting, telling you how he was raised to be a ‘gentleman’ and it’d be morally wrong of him not to offer his jacket to a woman when it’s raining. “just take it y/n, it’s not gonna kill ya!” he promises, only satisfied once you finally cave in after numerous attempts going back and forth. you may have let him win this round but you definitely won’t be going easy on him next time, that’s for certain.

yeah haechan may be nice and all but that doesn’t make him a saint or any different than everyone else, he’s just a regular guy to you, nothing more or less. you’ve known him for a grand total of 2.5 days and on the first day of class you just so happened to be assigned as permanent lab partners with him — the most popular guy at uni practically. haechan was the topic of every girl’s discussion, whether it was wondering if he came from a loaded family, is single or has a girlfriend, or how he can afford a $4,500 pair of sneakers, theres always a spotlight drawn to him somehow. frankly you didn’t give a rat’s ass about any of that stuff, you didn’t care much to make a lot of friends nor socialize with everyone. ever since middle school you’ve preferred to be alone, it’s not something you’re embarrassed about, you just value your education more than temporary friendships.

when it was announced that you’d be partners with haechan word spread around quickly, you couldn’t stand attention being cemented on you but haechan simply thrived off that notion. he craved all the gossip about him because he’s an attention whore— at least, that was your impression of him when you first met. you personally have no interest in getting to know him further than finishing this project, he probably has dozens of girls in his phone he can call to hook up with every day if he wanted to. ‘it’s just for one semester y/n you can do this… you’ll be fine.’ you keep telling yourself over and over. after what felt like ages the bus finally came, saving you from standing in silence with him any longer than necessary. soon as the door opens you make a dash for it, scanning your bus pass and looking for a seat within the crowded aisles. there just so happened to be 2 free open seats near the back so you scurry to sit down as haechan follows, taking the seat next to yours.

just as you were about to put in your airpods and shut out the world, haechan turns over to ask something. “so.. why’d you want me to come to your dorm instead of mine?” his face gets unreasonably close to you, completely invading your personal space. “it’s just.. more quiet i guess.” you awkwardly reply, slowly backing away from his overbearing presence. you must admit though, whatever cologne he was wearing smelled really good. “why’re you assuming that my place would be loud? do me and my friends really seem like that much of obnoxious assholes?” he cocks his eyebrow, confused by your lack of enthusiasm. it’s not unusual for haechan to be uninterested in someone but it’s pretty rare for him to find the opposite. the more you push him away the more he wants to know about you, your cold personality fueled a burning desire inside that he hasn’t felt in ages. it’s like having a one-sided crush, he enjoys the chase of going after what’s unattainable, he loves a challenge.

˖⁺‧₊˚ᰔᩚ˚₊‧⁺˖

“have you always been this quiet your whole life?” haechan proceeds to bother you yet again while you’re writing notes for the project down. you thought flat out ignoring him would work in your favor, he’s already asked about five questions already and you’ve yet to answer any of them — he doesn’t give up as easy as you thought however. “no seriously, did i do something? is there a reason why you act so cold towards me?” there he fucking goes again. if he actually paid attention he’d notice that you don’t exclusively treat him any differently than everyone else, you didn’t want a partner for this project and rather work on it alone from the start. he’s so full of himself that he can’t even fathom the idea of someone not wanting to shower every ounce of their undying love and attention for him. “god… do you ever shut up?” you lowly mutter under your breath, getting up from your table to go grab something. thankfully you don’t think he heard you, all you got in return was a simple “huh?” still not acknowledging his other questions, you come back with a pumpkin spice candle, setting it on your window sill to light it. you may or may not have a slight obsession with candles, you’ve hoarded so many to the point you lost count but since it’s fall why not bring out your favorite scent of the season. plus it’ll ventilate the room so you don’t have to be reminded of haechan’s strong cologne, which you actually liked but refuse to give his already inflated ego such a compliment.

after an hour or so of drafting outlines for the project you take a break to get some water, coming back to your motionless partner with a bored look on his face. he made a few contributions but you mostly did the work, which you don’t mind doing anyway since you’re confident in your academic abilities. you’ve been sensing haechan’s eyes on you all night, as you took a sip from the glass you feel the most intense awkwardness, you’re hoping he asks something dumb at this point. “are you a virgin?” he blurts out on a whim. you almost spit out your water, there’s no way in hell he just asked you that. “wait— w-what?” all of a sudden you’re a flustered mess and can’t talk properly, why would he want to know something so personal like that anyway? “ah, so you do talk!” haechan belts out a chuckle, gloating in his small victory, “i just wanted a reaction out of ya and finally got it!” you wanted to wipe that smirk clean off his face, maybe you were right to call him a pretentious asshole the first day you met. “y’know i can report you to the board for asking your lab partner weird sexual questions, right?” you try your best to sound intimidating but it doesn’t seem to faze him one bit, instead he continues leaning in closer. “stop pretending like you don’t secretly like it,” your skin collects goosebumps when his palm lands on your thigh, “‘cause for someone who supposedly doesn’t like me is acting awfully comfy with me right now.” his grin widens as he looks down, you couldn’t believe your eyes when you realize both your legs were intertwined together under the table.

you shriek in a panic, scooting your chair away to the far end of the table, “in your fucking dreams. i actually don’t, perv.” scoffing at his boldness, this is definitely a guy who thinks he can have his way with anyone he wants. even if you did find him attractive that still doesn’t mean you inherently want to sleep him. his face is really pretty though, like way above average, you 100% get why he’s so popular and some part of you wants to find out what all the hype’s about. a little test drive wouldn’t hurt anything, right? “awe, you sound so cute when you swear,” he teases, yet again moving close to you with no regards of personal space, “would sound better if you were moaning it as i fill you up with my cock.” his eyes stare at your lips intensely, wanting more than anything to violently make out with you. that last sentence shouldn’t have made you as wet as it did, but you couldn’t help yourself anymore, you were done trying to fight it. as your lips crash into his, a surge of heat rushes through your body, tilting your head slightly sideways to gain more access. his soft lips felt buttery smooth against yours, melting instantly as he brings his hands to wrap around your waist firmly.

as you run your fingers along the entirety of his length, slowly rubbing his shaft through his jeans. you hear how pretty he sounds when he moans, loving every bit of it in your ear. you keep stroking and feeling haechan’s cock, choosing when to go slow or fast. it made you undoubtedly wet knowing someone like you could turn him on, feeling how stiff his cock got soon as you touched him, pulsating in the palm of your hand. his face scrunches as if he just sucked on a lemon, erratically rutting his hips up as his breathing gets heavier. “ah- shiiit..” he was so far gone, gritting his teeth from the intense pleasure when he suddenly jerks up from out of your grasp. “dammit, dammit, dammit” he whispers under his breath, you strike a confused look when he flinches from you trying to touch him again. it doesn’t make sense how eager he was just a minute ago but is now doing a literal 180. “i already came..” the guilt and embarrassment was apparent in his voice. how could a girl like you even make a guy cum just from simply touching them? he’s definitely had much more experience than you ever will. “i’m not a virgin, are you?” you decide to finally entertain his question, you’ve got nothing left to lose anymore. he definitely wasn’t expecting that answer at all, he was really hoping he could be your first. “yeah, me neither, but you sure do make me feel like one again ..” this is probably the first time something like this has ever even happened to him.

for the past 15 minutes you’ve been grinding up and down against haechan to get his dick hard again, which didn’t take long to do at all. closing your eyes in pleasure as his teeth grazed your skin, biting gently on the sweet spot of your neck. “nnghh~” you mewl, feeling so needy and helpless at the moment, all you could do was continue sensually rolling, massaging, and rubbing your aching core onto his clothed crotch. you really did want more but you couldn’t give it all up too easily, this is all he’s getting from you until you officially say so. “fuck.. feels ssoo gooood..” haechan groans, hips bucking at any slightest movement you make, he needs to fuck your tight cunt so bad. “y-yeah, feels good? wan’ m-more?” you brace your shaky hands on both his shoulders for leverage, feeling the tent in his pants stiffen as you rock your hips in sync with his. the fact you two were acting like some animals in heat, going at it and humping each other fully clothed was surreal to you. it had to be that intoxicating cologne he wore that reeled you in. as you were whimpering and crying out to him, haechan keeps expressing how much he needs you, how badly he wants to be inside. “need this throbbing little cunt to swallow my cock like right now.. i wanna be buried so deep inside.. need to feel your walls clench as you twitch and cum around my shaft, pretty please…” he grunts, already completely whipped and ready to risk it all for you. it didn’t take much for him to cum the second time either, granted he lasted longer than the first time but still wasn’t his best. the way you roll your hips and moan out his name was enough to get the blood rushing through his veins, pushed to his breaking point once again.

you came with him the second time, tangling your fingers in his messy brown hair. a string of curses leave your mouth as you chase your high, still slowly grinding on top of him as you rest your head on his shoulder. “now i understand why you’re so quiet..” he murmurs, veiny hands still finding purchase around your delicate waist. you of course wondered why, which he simply responded with “‘cause your actions do all the talking for you instead.”

#kinktober 2023 #haechan smut #haechan drabbles #haechan x f reader #haechan x reader #lee donghyuck x reader #lee donghyuck smut #nct smut #nct x reader #nct x female reader #haechan imagines

1K notes · View notes

bookyeom · 3 months

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pairing: mingyu x reader word count: 3k warnings: kissing, swearing, Mingyu being a simp

Author’s Note: this fic is part of the Thirteen Valentines event, but can be read as a standalone! also, i would suggest listening to the song listed below to get a feel for the vibe of the fic, but it’s not necessary. (Also, this fic in particular references the iconic 1987 film Some Kind of Wonderful, but I think I explained it well enough for someone who may not have seen it! However, if you haven’t seen it… Watch it. In my opinion, it tops all of those “must-see” movies like Sixteen Candles, etc. I adore this movie. The OG friends-to-lovers.)

nothin’ on you by b.o.b., bruno mars

they might say hi and i might say hey but you shouldn’t worry about what they say ’cause they’ve got nothing on you, babe

You groan as the doorbell rings, your eyes finding the time on your phone. You’d just settled in with your bunny pajamas and your rattiest, biggest, comfiest sweater, and you really don't want to move now. What you want is to disappear into the couch that you’d spent way too much money on, under your favourite blanket, and mindlessly scroll through social media videos of cats for hours while pretending you aren't perpetually single on the holiday of love.

As much as you try to ignore it, the ringing only becomes more persistent, mixed with obnoxious, intermittent knocking. You groan again and stand up, making your way over to the door in annoyance. There are only a handful of people who would dare to be so irritating — Soonyoung if he wanted food, Chan if he wanted to show you a new dance routine, or…

“Mingyu?”

“Hi,” he says brightly, and your brain short circuits. He looks as wonderful as always, black hoodie and sweats, eyes warm as he waits for you to reply like a normal human.

You know that the right answer would be a greeting in response, but all you can think to say instead is, “It’s Valentine’s Day?” When Mingyu’s face falls a little bit, you hurry to explain yourself. “I mean… Do you not have plans?”

Admittedly, that response isn’t much better, but you genuinely don't know the answer to your own question. You had just assumed that he did have plans — you hadn’t even considered the possibility of him being alone today, honestly. You hadn’t really wanted to think too much about it. It wasn’t like it’d be hard for funny, kind, Adonis-among-men Mingyu to find a date. All he had to do was smile at any man or woman in his general vicinity and they’d be under his spell.

You know first hand what that feels like.

Your best friend showing up at your door on February 14th has replayed a thousand times in your brain. You’ve been head over heels in love with him for years now. The fantasy usually consists more of him in a tuxedo holding a huge bouquet of roses, proclaiming his love for you before kissing you passionately, but you can’t deny that you like this casual, tuxedo-less Mingyu just as much — if not more. He’s just… Mingyu. Soft and warm in that hoodie that you love, holding a box of your favourite pizza in one hand, a bag of who knows what else in the other.

“Do you not want me here?” He pouts, and you cave.

You sigh, but a smile makes its way to your face regardless. “Of course I do, Gyu. I just thought you had plans, that’s all.”

“I do,” he counters. “With you.”

You ignore the flutter in your stomach at his words, ignore the soft smile he sends your way when you move aside to let him in. “Alright, then… Let’s be single as hell on Valentine’s Day, together.”

Mingyu beams, stepping past you and into the apartment.

“Movie?” He suggests as he slips off his shoes and immediately makes his way to the kitchen with the pizza. You hear the sound of cupboards opening and closing as he makes his way around with ease, like he knows where everything is like the back of his hand. Because he does. Your heart stutters a bit in your chest at the reminder of how well he fits into your life, how well he knows your apartment.

He knows you pretty well, too, which is actually a big part of the reason you’re so surprised that he’d shown up today.

Because anyone who knows you knows that you’re in love with Kim Mingyu. Even new people who spend just five minutes with the two of you can tell, and you’re basically a pro at dismissing the couple questions by now. It seems the entire world can tell you’re head over heels except for the man himself, and you really don’t understand how he seems to have absolutely no clue. If he did, you don’t think he’d be so cruel as to suggest spending Valentine’s Day together.

And yet here he is, moving around your house like it’s his house, too.

He has no idea, you remind yourself. He’s just alone on Valentine’s Day, and he likes spending time with you. That’s all.

You busy yourself setting up in the living room, making room on your side table for the pizza and whatever else he’d brought. You catch sight of yourself in the reflection of the TV and grimace. Theoretically, you’re both dressed casually, so you shouldn’t feel underdressed for this impromptu hangout. But in reality, Mingyu looks better than everyone else all the time, no matter what he’s wearing. He reappears a few moments later looking every bit the part of an athleisure model with the pizza box, a bottle of wine, and a box of your favourite chocolates in hand.

“A heart-shaped box of Lindt?” You can’t help but blurt out. It isn’t unlike Mingyu to bring your favourite snacks to movie night, but it’s Valentine’s Day, and the chocolates are in a heart-shaped box.

“It was on sale,” he shrugs in response, settling down on the couch, and you want so badly to question the peculiar choice further. You don’t.

You hand him the remote, grabbing the blanket from where it had fallen on the floor at your abrupt departure from the couch while he puts a movie on. He seems to know exactly what he’s looking for, which is interesting considering he’s one of the most indecisive people you’ve ever met.

“What are we watching?” You ask. “Action? Thriller?”

Mingyu runs a hand through his hair, his other arm already outstretched for you to fall back against. You settle in next to him, pulling your knees up and draping the blanket over the both of you.

“I thought we could do something a bit different tonight,” he finally answers after a pause, and you look up at him in surprise.

“Like what?”

He simply nods his chin towards the TV, where the opening scenes of the movie he’s chosen are beginning to play. You recognize the title immediately: Some Kind of Wonderful.

Your heart leaps into your throat.

You’re not sure what to make of this. You’ve never seen the movie, but you know the premise of it: two best friends falling in love. This has to be a joke. You can’t help it as your entire body stiffens, and you tell yourself to relax.

You can’t.

“Why?” You finally blurt out. Your chest feels tight. You don’t know if you’re reading far too much into it, but when have you ever watched a romance movie together? You’ve expressly made sure that you didn’t.

“It’s Valentine’s Day,” Mingyu replies. “Thought it would be nice.”

You’re looking at him again, eyebrows knit together in confusion. He finally acknowledges you with raised eyebrows of his own, meeting your eyes briefly before motioning to the TV with his chin.

“Can you just watch it? It’s a good movie, I promise. Give it a chance.”

You nod slowly, doing as he asks, but you can barely focus for the next hour. Everything has been so strange; the movie choice, the way he’d shown up with wine and chocolate — all of which could have been excused, maybe, if it wasn't for the fact that Mingyu is acting strange, too. He’s normally so pliant against you during movie nights, so clingy. But tonight, despite your closeness on the couch, all he does is rest his arm loosely around your shoulders. No fingers tracing your skin, no pulling you against his side, no getting distracted by your hair and attempting to make a shitty braid with it. No maneuvering his own body so that he’s the one with his head in your lap. It feels like he’s holding his breath, like he’s waiting for something.

What in the world is going on?

It’s excruciating, but you try to focus. You’re almost there when the ending scene begins to play, but your whole body is still tense. You watch as the main characters, Keith and Watts, finally kiss in the middle of the street, and you think you can feel your heartbeat in your ears. You swear Mingyu has tensed up beside you, but you don’t take your eyes off of the screen as Keith finally speaks his confession.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t know.”

“Yeah, well, you’re stupid,” comes the words from Watts, and you suddenly feel tears pricking at the back of your eyelids. This all feels a little too real. Why did he put this on? What the fuck is Mingyu playing at?

“Why didn’t you tell me?” At Keith’s last words of dialogue from the screen, you feel Mingyu’s grip on your shoulder tighten.

“You never asked,” Watts replies, teasing, and you can’t take it anymore. You turn to your best friend, eyes wide, and he slowly moves to turn off the TV.

The atmosphere in the room has shifted dramatically, and you can’t look away from him, frozen. You can’t utter a single word. He’s picking at a piece of thread on his sweatpants, eyes downcast as he avoids your gaze.

It hits you like a brick, the reason why he’s being so strange. It’s because he’s nervous.

There’s no way.

A million thoughts race through your mind, a million reasons why going down this road could be a bad idea. But you have to ask — you have to know.

“Why didn’t you have plans tonight, Gyu?”

He meets your eyes again, and you can barely breathe. His gaze holds firm, intense, as he says, “Because I wanted to have plans with you.”

“On Valentine’s Day?” The insinuation of your words is clear, and you know that Mingyu understands exactly what you’re asking.

His eyes remain steady on yours as he replies, easily, “Yes.”

So simple. Certain. Sure.

You remind yourself to breathe, gathering all the courage that’s left in you to speak again. “‘Why didn’t you tell me?’”

You watch Mingyu’s face as you repeat the words from the movie, your voice trembling just the slightest bit. He’s really looking at you now, a soft smile on his face at your words, and your heart leaps into your throat. He’s stunning. He’s always stunning, but the way he’s looking at you right now has you feeling like you’re walking on air. His gaze is so warm, and you don’t want to look away from him ever again.

“‘You never asked.’”

“Neither did you.” Your words are your own now, and Mingyu nods, using the arm around your shoulders to pull you in against his chest. You flush as he draws you towards him, and you briefly wonder if you’re dreaming.

“You’re right.” He gazes down at you fondly, and your hand lifts tentatively to his jaw. He nuzzles into your fingers, turning to gently kiss your palm, and your eyes don’t leave his mouth. His free hand lifts to rest on top of yours, before he softly runs his fingers down your arm and up to your shoulder, your neck, your face.

“‘I knew you were stupid’,” you quote cheekily from the movie script again. Mingyu’s lips break into a wide smile as he lets out a surprised laugh, canines on full display as he beams.

Then he’s using his whole body to pull you into him, silencing your own giggles with a kiss.

Your breath is caught in pleasant surprise, and you can feel him smiling against your mouth. You’re impressed with how quickly you’re able to respond after your brain factory resets, the feeling of his lips on yours stunning you for only a moment before you react. Your fingers find the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging softly and earning a pleased hum from him. His teeth gently sink into your lower lip in retaliation, and you can feel your entire body react to it. His hands find your hips, helping move you so that you’re in his lap. All you can feel is him as he pulls you in closer and closer, kissing you like it’s all he’s ever wanted to do. He finally breaks away to kiss along your jaw, your neck, your shoulder, before moving to slowly press one final kiss at the base of your throat, and you can feel goosebumps spread across your skin at the featherlight touch.

“I love you,” he whispers softly, and you lower your chin to meet his eyes. You can’t help the giddy smile that’s broken out at his words, and you feel a bit like you’re soaring as he continues, “I’m in love with you. I really am, and I need you to know that.” His hands slide under the hem of your shirt, his fingers gently massaging the skin there, and your forehead falls to his.

“Mingyu…”

He hums, and you pull back to look at him, your fingers moving to softly trace every part of his face. You’ve long since committed him to memory, but one more time can’t hurt. He waits for a moment before he lets out a whine, burying his face into your collarbone.

“Stop looking at me like that.”

You let out a giggle. “Why?”

“Because I’m shy.”

You let out a snort, and Mingyu pulls away to pout up at you. Your fingers gently brush over his lips, his nose, his cheeks, and you can tell he wants to hide again, but he doesn’t.

“I love you too,” you say softly, and his pout is gone. “I have for a really long time now.”

He surges forward to press another kiss to your mouth, and you can’t help but gasp into it. You can tell he’s satisfied with himself as he smiles, pulling back just to say, “Guess we’re both stupid then, huh?”

You laugh, and you can almost feel the happiness radiating off of him as his arms fold around your back, pulling you back in and resting his head in the crook of your shoulder. Your hands move to wrap around his shoulders, your head softly falling to rest atop his.

“Oh my god,” you hear him mumble after a few moments of silence. You hum in question, and he moves to look up at you again. “I’m so excited to date you,” he says, his face full of genuine joy. You can feel yourself flush crimson as he continues, “I’m going to date you so hard. You can’t stop me. I’m going to hold your hand all the damn time, you have no idea.”

“I can’t fucking wait, boyfriend.”

A/N: thank you so much to everyone for all the love on the other fics so far :) Here’s the fifth of our Thirteen Valentines just in time for the holiday/Carat Day! Who better to celebrate with than Kim Mingyu himself? Special shoutout and dedication to the best girl @tae-bebe, who fell victim to the Mingyu enemies-to-lovers trope irl :) xx

Please please please reblog if you can to spread the word, and check out the Thirteen Valentines masterlist! If you want to be added to the taglist, send me a message :) Your kind comments and reblogs don’t go unnoticed, I promise.

Taglist: @waldau @wqnwoos @gyuminusone@savventeen @eoieopda @minisugakoobies @wheeboo @lvlystars@darkypooo @christinewithluv @bella-l (Strikethrough means it wouldn’t let me tag you, I’m sorry!)

#Mingyu fluff #mingyu angst #mingyu imagine #mingyu x reader #mingyu x you #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #seventeen imagine #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #My writing #thirteenvalentines #kmgfic

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demonpiratehuntress · 4 months

Text

worth the wait

Trafalgar Law x F!Reader

summary - you wait for Law to confess, going through everything ranging from jealousy to frustration, but no matter how you feel, you want him to confess on his own.

warnings - maybe some angst but mostly fluff, this is my FIRST TIME writing for Law so i sincerely apologise if I get him wrong

a/n: i'm still busy with the Sabaody Archipelago arc so im not very accustomed to Law yet but i like him so i wanted to try

You know he doesn't mean to make you feel this way. You know he doesn't intend to make you seethe with anger yet also burn with jealousy and drown in sorrow as you watch the woman flirt with him. You know he has no clue about your feelings, or that the woman is flirting, and you know he doesn't mean to hurt you.

But that doesn't stop those feelings.

You take note of how much prettier the woman is than you, how much bustier and curvier. Law doesn't seem to be the type that goes for looks, but sometimes you cave to insecurity and imagine him being convinced and led off by one of these local whores. And it brings up many unpleasant feelings you wish you could go your entire life without feeling.

Bepo, Shachi and Penguin all sit at the table with you, each one having taken a turn to suggest that you put an end to it by going and telling Law how you feel. But you denied all of them, insisting that Law should be given the opportunity to confess to you on his own if he felt that way, without being forced into it or facing the awkwardness of not reciprocating. If he really felt that way about you, then you wanted him to approach you on his own, when he was comfortable.

Even if you had to hurt longer because of it.

Your eyes lingered on your dark-haired captain as he listened to the woman sitting next to him at the bar, his face showing clear signs of disinterest. Usually Law was quick to tell people to leave him alone if they were bothering him, so you were unsure of what to think. He wasn't interested in her, but he wasn't telling her to go away??

You sighed, leaning back in your chair as you stretched, "Okay, I've had my fun. I'm going back to the Polar Tang." You pushed your chair back and stood. "See you guys later." Before they could protest, you left.

Law turned to watch you go, a frown forming on his lips. He wasn't aware that something had been bothering you, but now he was sure of it. You usually didn't leave until he did, and certainly not without taking someone with you. He excused himself without looking at the woman talking to him, and gestured for Shachi, Penguin and Bepo to follow as he too left the pub.

You sighed as you lay back on your bed, letting your mind wander. You had to reign it back in when your thoughts immediately went to Law and that woman, though, and you tried to think of something else. Taking a deep breath, you looked at your blanket and mindlessly studied the pattern.

A knock pulled you from your bland, and frankly, boring, task. You sighed once more and forced yourself out of bed, going over to open your door. You expected it to be Shachi or Bepo coming to check on you, so you were not ready for who was actually standing there.

"Law?" You frowned, confused.

"Are you alright, (Name)-ya?" The doctor asked, his posture slightly awkward. If you hadn't known him as long as you did, you wouldn't have noticed. "You left a bit early today."

You bit your lip, "Yeah, I just...got a bit tired."

He saw right through your lie, as you should have expected him to.

"Something is bothering you."

"What?" Your eyes widened. "No, nothing-"

He scoffed, "I'm insulted you think I wouldn't notice when one of my crewmembers is bothered by something."

Crewmember. There it was. You tried not to flinch, letting out a shaky breath, "I'm fine, captain. Honest." Before he could press further, you closed the door. That may have not been smart, but you didn't want to tell him the real reason.

Law frowned, but if you didn't want to discuss it with him, he wouldn't force you to.

Law couldn't sleep.

Well, he usually had trouble but tonight was for a different reason. He was kept up by concern for you, and plagued by confusion over what was making you behave so weirdly. He tried to think of every possible thing that might have upset you, but he couldn't connect anything to your behaviour.

Then he recalled what he'd overheard in the pub, the conversation between you, Shachi, Penguin and Bepo that you thought he hadn't heard.

"Maybe you should tell him how you feel."

"No, I can't. I won't. If he feels the same, I want him to tell me on his own terms, when he's ready. No sooner."

That hadn't made sense when he first heard it, and he automatically assumed you were talking about a crush you had on someone, which made an ugly bubble of jealousy grow inside him. But now...

Now it all clicked.

You liked him. You liked Law. But you didn't want to tell him, because you wanted him to be comfortable when he eventually did decide to pursue a relationship with you.

Now at least he knew what to do.

You woke up the next morning feeling groggy and tired. You hadn't gotten much sleep, maybe two or three hours max. Your body protested to you getting up, but you eventually managed to pull yourself out of bed and get ready for the day. You would be leaving the island today, so you needed to go help the others get the submarine ready for departure.

The short conversation you had with Law last night suddenly slipped into your mind, and you internally cringed. That was awkward. You wanted to avoid him, but since he was your captain that was virtually impossible. And it would also be difficult to explain.

You sucked it up and joined everyone else for breakfast.

You didn't get very far with that, since Bepo informed you that Law wanted to see you in his room halfway through your meal. You stiffened, but nonetheless promised to go when you were done.

"Captain?" You swallowed thickly as you stood outside his door and knocked. "You wanted to see me?"

"Yes," came his familiar voice from behind the door, before it opened to reveal the man who gave you butterflies each and every time you saw him. "Come in." He stepped aside to give you space to walk in.

You avoided meeting his gaze and you stepped into his room, your heart racing at the speed of light. It was causing bile to rise at the base of your throat, but you tried to ignore the nauseated feeling your nervousness was bringing with it.

"Am I in trouble?" You asked anxiously, fiddling with your boiler suit.

"No," he stated simply, before taking a seat at his desk. It was a while before he spoke again, writing something before turning in his seat to face you. He studied your expression, before sighing. "You don't have to look so scared."

You chose not to say anything, casting your gaze to the floor instead.

"(Name)-ya. Look at me."

When you didn't, the doctor got up again and walked over to you. He gently gripped your chin in his hand and moved your head upwards so you could look him in the eye.

"You're very cute when you get shy on me."

Out of all the things you'd expected him to say, that was nowhere on the list. Your eyes widened, heart almost stopping. Your butterflies grew, and fluttered around more wildly in your stomach.

"It took me a lot longer than I thought to figure out why you get easily flustered around me," he began again, "I'll admit I'm not as adept at romance as I am at medicine, or how did Penguin put it?"

"You're book smart, not street smart," you managed to say, laughing a little bit at the jab Penguin had teasingly made at Law, when he thought Law wasn't around.

"Yes, that," Law chuckled, a rare sound that you liked hearing. Then he smiled at you, really smiled at you, and your heart flipped. "So you should have come to me about your feelings. I wouldn't have thought of it as forced if you told me first, considering I have no experience with this." Suddenly he became the nervous one, a side to him you'd never seen before. "There was no way I would confess if you didn't."

You supposed that made sense, and you managed a small smile, "Sorry, captain. I just wanted to make sure you'd be comfortable."

"I..." He bit his lip, "I'm always comfortable with you."

That admission was followed by Law using his grip on your chin to guide your face closer to his, so that he could press his lips to yours. He kissed you lightly at first, testing the waters, then deepened it as soon as you reciprocated the kiss. He dropped his hand to grip both sides of your waist, and pulled you flush against him as your lips moulded together in a slow, passionate dance. You grabbed his upper arms for support, fearing you would fall over from how good the kiss felt, and only when he sensed you might just faint he pulled away.

With a cocky smirk.

"I didn't know I made your knees weak," he teased.

You stuttered and babbled out something incoherent, the brightest blush settling on your cheeks. He chuckled and wrapped his arms around your smaller frame, letting you rest your head on his shoulder as he embraced you. He kissed the top of your head, and you sighed contentedly, happy to finally be in his arms.

"Next time, don't wait so long to tell me something so important."

"Okay, but you were worth the wait."

He blushed.

#one piece #op #trafalgar law #law x reader #law x you #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law x you #one piece law #one piece trafalgar law

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deanbrainrotwritings · 3 months

Text

— KEEP THE LIGHTS ON

SUMMARY : “Hi!! First time requesting a fic so if this is dumb.. well yeah. A fic where Dean and the reader are about to do it (😏😏) and hes very focused on her thighs/hips area and she's got stretch marks there and he traces/kisses/grabs them? It's rough, intense, and passionate? 😳😶 okay love you and your writing byeee 🏃‍♀️” — anon

PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : none

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), smut, as always unspecified skin colour and weight (lol),

WORD COUNT : 2.0k

A/N : close your eyes song title. I loved this request as soon as I got it, and that’s why it didn’t take long! I’ve seen some stretch marks are lighter than the skin and others are darker than the skin and also that they feel like grooves so, I hope this is okay! *insert Scott Pilgrim and the L-word scene bc I can’t say ILY* AND HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY Xx

You’d never been so comfortable and confident with a man before. Comfortable with yourself. Confident in your own skin.. Every insecurity you had in every other aspect of your life, sex-releated or not, flew out the window because you knew Dean.

He had a way of making you feel beautiful all the time. Either with his facial expressions when you caught him staring, his words when you were alone, his actions at any chance he had to get his hands on you. He was very expressive, wordlessly so, and gesticulating.

You had to get to know the real him to understand him and, you know… he’s complicated. He’s guarded, but beneath all that there’s a soft centre to him, like a brownie. And overall, he’s sweet and good and soft. Perfect. Like a brownie.

Eventually, getting a read on him gets easier, but not entirely easy. Which is why he was currently taking your breath away with his lips moving down your neck and his hands tangled in your hair as he guided you down the hallway to his room. But only after admitting he’d been wanting to get you in his bed for years and you’d be damned if you let your fears and worries get in the way of getting your first taste of him after pining for him almost as long as he’d carried a torch for you.

You had to be stupid to believe that Dean was shallow and cared only about a woman's appearance or attractiveness. You never thought you weren’t enough all those times Dean left with or hit on any women but you. All you thought was that he simply didn’t see you that way, which was only half of the truth. He wanted something more than one night with you and he just didn’t have the guts to tell you so.

But tonight, after a sleepy hangout at the Dean Cave, after watching a variety of movies that Dean liked—movies he excitedly wanted you to enjoy as well when you said you’d never watched them before. And then going to the kitchen to get more snacks for the next film…

Well, you don’t really remember what led to it, maybe you said something in your exhausted state. Or maybe he did. You had a feeling that if you made the first move and confessed something you wouldn’t have in the right state of mind, he’d hold it over you and tease you about it—if everything went well.

Or maybe it was just a buildup of every little thing that the two of you shared with each other and all the history and all of everything else that you were.

Now that you had his mouth on yours, quick and firm and desperate for attention and for a taste of you… You had a feeling making your stomach flutter. To some extent, the two of you were very aware of each other’s feelings and still decided to do nothing about it.

What a waste of fucking time.

Still, something about waiting made this much more intense. Your skin ignited at his touch when his fingers snuck up into your shirt. Your flesh became warmer and warmer after each rapid heartbeat, excitement from his wet, breathy kisses. The air in your lungs failed to escape correctly, failing to reach the full capacity of oxygen the more thrilled you became.

You wanted to devour him whole. But all you could do was kiss him back with as much passion and fervour as you possibly could. Your palms smoothed up scarred skin, flushed and warm and taut. Your nails scratched and your fingers tugged at anything of his that you could hold onto.

When you got to his room, he’d made your head spin more than it already was from his kiss when he pushed you into his bedroom door to shut it.

“Sweetheart,” he moaned against your mouth and your breath audibly hitched. The sound of his voice, the way he spoke that pet-name to you made your stomach clench and your clit throb. Or maybe it was the way he pinned your lower body to the door with his hips and the way he held your gaze when he flexed his hand beneath your shirt, his fingers spread across your ribcage.

His other hand moved back up to your cheek and his thumb brushed against your cheekbone. Your lips parted at first when he did that and your eyes searched his curious eyes longingly, but he seemed to be on his own mission. You bit your lip anxiously instead as you attempted to maintain eye contact, your cheeks burned when his green eyes dropped down to your lips. All you could feel was his erection pressed into your soft skin through the flimsy layers of his pyjama pants.

And then his cock twitched.

It was driving you crazy.

Being this close to him felt like a chemical reaction. You bubbled as he came into contact with you and you could probably evaporate into nothing if you were just a reactant. You never thought you’d feel consumed entirely by a person as if they were a reagent. You’d be embarrassed if it were anyone else but Dean who made you feel this pathetic.

Your eyes reacted faster than your body when Dean dove back down to capture your bottom lip. He sucked on it softly and rolled his hips into you and you breathed shakily against his mouth at the combination of pleasant sensations that occurred simultaneously.

You buried your fingers in his hair and then you felt his own gripping your hips tightly. God, you wished he’d dig into you and mark you permanently, but instead your thoughts ran through the imaginary engine of a plane and turned into smithereens when his tongue entered your mouth.

He lifted you up and his hands slid roughly from your ass to your thighs. You clung to him and kissed him hard, pouring yourself wholly into the kiss until he drunkenly stumbled to his bed and dropped you into it. All the while, he was still completely attached to you and getting more desperate now that you were as malleable as dough in his expert hands.

He pulled away from you breathlessly, lips parted and wet and red and perfectly kissed. His cheeks puffed a little and he had a tiny smile that shined mostly in his eyes when they fluttered open. You thought you’d be sucked right into his dilated pupils as he admired you beneath him, but he went right back to your neck and your cleavage while his hands pushed and pulled away at your clothes to get you naked.

For the fraction of a second, your body snapped out of the trance he’d placed you in when you felt his fingers trace and dip gently into the marks on your skin. The magic was gone only for a few moments when you opened your eyes to him between your bare legs, he looked up at you in surprise. Surprised at your reaction.

“What?” He frowned at you. The cute pout made your eyes brighten and your body relaxed once more as you smiled down at him.

You were hesitant and he was patient. And then his expression mirrored yours, smiley. But he was so soft, with those crinkles at the corner of his eyes, and those dimples above his pillowy lips. He didn’t even make a big deal out of it and that made you release a soft breath and with it, the tension disappeared from your body.

“Are you sure?” You asked him, pressing your teeth into your bottom lip. He lifted a brow at you before both brows came together in amused confusion. He slowly pulled himself up your body and shamelessly dropped his hips at your centre, practically grinding his covered erection against your bare, wet core.

You inhaled sharply and he smirked at you. He slid his forearm up beside your head to balance his upper body above yours and continued to brush his thumb against the lines you were more than familiar with that resided at your hips.

“Wanna hear it explicitly, is that it?” He murmured, his tongue dipping out to pull his lower lip into his mouth. Then he planted his teeth on the shimmering, plump flesh. What a journey.

You were amused when your eyes flickered back up to his and you pulled your own lip between your teeth. He was cocky and maybe it didn’t help that you were a mess beneath him, but you couldn’t help yourself.

“I’m gonna fuck you hard in my bed,” he told you. Your eyes widened slightly and you breathed unevenly as he rocked his hips against your heat. “But first, I’m gonna memorise every inch of your body and I’m gonna make you wait ‘til I’m satisfied. And only then,” he whispered, dropping kisses along your cheek and jaw, “I’ll give you what you want.”

You licked your lips and allowed Dean to move lower to pepper kisses along your breasts until he slowly made his way back down between your legs. Part of you wanted to whine when he brushed his fingers over your stretch marks again, but there was something about how casual he was about them that made you want to see where this was going.

“What do I want?” You grinned down at him just as his lips made contact with the lines in contrasting colour to your skin. He smirked and looked at you through his lashes. His warm breath tickled your thighs when he chuckled and you shivered, bumping his bicep playfully with your knee.

“Me, I hope,” he answered, almost bashfully. He buried his fingers into your hips and pulled at your skin, following the lines that decorated your body while keeping his eyes on you. You squirmed as he continued to touch and mouth at your stretch marks. “But mostly, my dick.”

You laughed, “what?” And Dean nipped at your hip, along a few lines on either side of your body and your body shuddered pleasantly.

“You asked what you wanted. I said: me and my dick,” he recapped for you playfully. You rolled your eyes at him, but you couldn’t help smiling. Dean went from playful to sexy and dragged his lips down your pelvis. Your hips wiggled in anticipation and your breath became shallow, but Dean only breathed against your soaked cunt. “If… all ‘a this proves anything.”

The warm air slipping between his lips aroused you to the point of wanting to pull his face between your legs and trap him there with your thighs. You felt yourself turn hot at his words, both from embarrassment and from lust.

“Dean, please,” you begged with a whiny laugh.

Instead of replying with something witty, he swirled his tongue around your ntrance with a moan. You felt his spit and you held your breath when he flatted his tongue and dragged it up to your clit. You closed your eyes and arched your back when he sucked and flicked the tip of his tongue against your clit.

And then it was all gone and your body became loose once more. You opened your eyes to Dean pulling his shirt over his head, exposing the freckled skin you’ve always wanted to kiss and mark with your mouth when you patched him up on hunts.

Before you could get your hands on him, he got out of bed and pulled his pants and boxers down his legs swiftly. He barely gave you time to see, to admire what you came to accept as the prettiest cock you’d ever seen.

“I told you,” he smirked, slipping between your legs and lowering himself on your body to kiss you. “I’m takin’ my time.” You groaned in protest against his lip, but eventually every complaint you had on taking it slowly dissipated from your mind as he pushed and pulled at your body in ways you didn’t think you’d liked until he began working your body.

You didn’t want to admit it, but dammit… Sex with Dean was better and more satisfying than the sex you had with any other man.

You couldn’t tell Dean that. Never. It’d go to his head. Rightfully so, but still. All you could think about is the embarrassment he’d cause you to feel by reminding you, every chance he had—with that smug smirk of his—about how good you said he makes you feel. Better than any other man.

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dean winchester masterlist

month of love 2024 masterlist

do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or republish my work on another platform

#dean winchester x reader #dean x female!reader #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester x you #dean winchester smut #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x female!reader

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undead-supernova · 2 months

Text

make me thaw / Masterlist

pairing: Steve Harrington x gn!reader

plot: Steve has to house sit for his parents and has to resist the urge to call you to come over

warnings: not just having mommy or daddy issues (it's that secret third option!), intimacy issues, angst/comfort, pronouns never mentioned

wc: 1.8k

song inspo: I Wouldn't Ask You by Clairo

note: this isn't like any big thing, but I thought the little concept was interesting. anyways, have some angsty Steve

It wasn’t like he didn’t want to call.

There are just certain things that one must experience alone, things that are just too complicated for someone else to truly understand. Things that someone can’t articulate, so why even bother trying at all?

Or, at least, that’s what Steve had thought his whole life.

Because Steve hated his parents. No, it was something that extended past hate. Steve loathed them. He loathed the way they waved their hands around in dismissal. Loathed the way they came in and out at their leisure, only asking how he was when they felt rather obligated. Loathed his mother’s negligence, his father’s absence.

The thing he loathed the most was how much he truly loved them.

But they weren’t even here.

No, they were in Sicily. Another one of their infamous arguments ensued when his mother found love letters from another woman in his nightstand. And instead of trying to deny it this time, his father decided to take his mother on a nice vacation. Some sightseeing, fancy dining.

Nothing said “I’m sorry for cheating on you for the sixth time” like a three-hundred-dollar bottle of wine next to the Mediterranean Sea.

So he was called to house sit for a few days, making sure their cat was fed—the one obtained after the fourth "mistake".

Steve wanted to tell them to fuck off and that they could call literally anyone else. But his father offered him a good amount of cash, way more than Family Video was giving him and he just…caved. Couldn’t look his father in the eye when he was told that part of the deal was to never tell anyone about his infidelity. Keep his mouth shut, especially to that little plaything of his.

He looked around his childhood bedroom, feeling a weight beginning to push him further into the mattress. Frames that once held his awards now hugged paintings of Mr. Harrington's favorite vacation spots. Carpet now ripped out in exchange for hardwood flooring. Walls coated in a new shade of off-white. Potpourri sitting on a new dresser to mask his scent. Boxes of his stuff sitting idle in the attic.

And maybe it was a byproduct of hunting monsters and evil spies, but Steve thought the house was haunted. If not haunted, then haunting.

And he could’ve fooled himself into believing he heard echoes of his parents arguing downstairs. Even in the dead quiet. Even in the midnight hour when the rest of Hawkins was lulling in and out of slumber.

It was freezing cold in here, colder than it’d been before—even in the dead of winter. A sweatshirt, thick sweatpants, and fuzzy socks weren’t even enough. Nothing was enough.

Steve didn’t know why, but he thought of you. Thought about how you’d never actually been in this house. You were a more recent friend, a more recent something or other. A friend that he appreciated, a friend that he was too terrified to entertain as anything more than just a friend.

And, sure, you were a friend that he’d tried to introduce to his parents. For whatever reason. But when you walked into the foyer and introduced yourself to Mr. Harrington, he took one look at you, snorted, and walked away. You’d turned back, resigning to sitting by the pool, wondering out loud what made you so laughable.

Steve had tried to comfort you, tried to explain that his dad was just a prick. He hated everyone that didn’t look or act or dress just like him. His dad called it weakness.

And Steve was the weakest of them all.

His knees had brushed yours and his lips trembled as you nearly made what he told himself was a mistake. In that moment, he almost let everything go, had almost let himself wake up to the idea of something new.

But instead, he shook his head and stood up. Walked away. Stood by the car and waited for you to get the hint and follow him. Blamed the rudeness on wanting to get to your shared shift on time. Let the car fill with The Psychedelic Furs and deprived it of conversation.

Because, just like this house, Steve was cold.

After everything with the Upside Down, something he swore he’d never think of again, Steve retreated into himself. Sure, he was still running around with Robin, Dustin, Mike, Lucas, Max, and Erica. But those were just things now. Low stakes.

He didn’t have to let himself find new ways to break his heart. He didn’t have to put you in any compromising position when he could just stay silent.

And that’s why he didn’t call.

Clink.

Steve’s attention diverted towards the window.

Clink.

Without so much as a flinch, Steve sighed and made his way over. He half expected a new monster to appear, an added cherry on top of his loathing.

But as he peered out, he spotted you with your arm pulled back, ready to launch another acorn. The reflection of the pool lights shone off of your smile that only widened as you noticed him.

Eyebrows furrowing, he quickly lifted the windowsill.

“What’re you doing here?” he asked, leaning out.

“Came to hang.”

“Could you not use the front door?”

Tilting your head in confusion, you said, “I’ve been knocking for the last five minutes.”

“Oh.”

“Are you gonna let me in or what?”

Steve watched you unzip your beat up backpack, bottom lip tucked between your teeth. He felt bad that he hadn’t spoken much since he let you in, but you didn’t seem to mind.

He sat up against his headboard, arms crossed as he stretched his legs. You were on the other side of him, cross-legged. Not close enough to accidentally touch, but not so far away that you couldn’t be there if he needed you.

But he didn’t need anyone.

You pulled out a large thermos, gesturing towards it as if you were presenting him with an award.

“I give you…ginger tea,” you said, imitating an announcer.

“You could’ve just brought the bags. We have a kettle.”

“That’s no fun.”

Despite his comment, he took the thermos from you. Warm, was his first thought followed by, Thank you.

But he said nothing, opting instead to drink the tea.

What was there for him to say? Steve was elsewhere, lost in his head in ways that he couldn’t decipher.

“Robin and I missed you at closing tonight.”

And you were here, offering him some relief that he didn’t want to feel. He didn’t need it.

“Is that why you came?” he asked.

You shook your head, going back to rummaging around your bag. “I was thinking about how shitty your parents have been and how uncomfortable it must be to just sit in an empty house.”

Here you were, caring. And for whatever reason, he couldn’t stand it.

“It’s not like I haven’t been doing that my whole life.”

“That’s true,” you agreed. “but that doesn’t make it any easier when you find a real family and then have to come back and sit with what used to be your reality.”

“You don’t need to take care of me.”

“Sure I do,” you said simply.

Like it was a no brainer.

Steve shook his head, wanting the thought of an us to leave his head.

“Life isn’t fair,” he stated, watching as your face began to fall. “And…and this is just the life I was given, you know? And everything that came after that—all the pain, all the bullshit—it’s just…”

Steve trailed off, unsure where to go from there. Unsure where the words were supposed to fall.

Until it came.

“My parents suck. They have no real relationship. I don’t even know why they stay together. And they think that what they have with me is family. Maybe that’s what they were brought up with. I don’t know. But that’s…that’s not it.”

“And knowing that gets frustrating,” you stated, fingers reaching out toward him.

Your hand rested on his knee, the warmth matching that of the thermos. Trying to diffuse his anger, trying to unveil what was hidden.

“Love doesn’t last,” he whispered.

“I don’t think you really believe that.”

Your fingers ran against his knuckles, seemingly soothing him. But there was that hardness in his chest, the kind of protection that couldn’t be torn down so easily.

Even if you were getting good at it.

“What are we, then?” Steve asked suddenly, nearly sounding defensive.

He thought you’d pause. Thought you’d pull your hand away. Anything. But you didn’t flinch, didn’t miss a beat while continuing your absentminded pattern.

“We’re best friends,” you said with a shrug. “Mixed with a hint of something extra.”

“Doesn’t that just complicate things?”

You glanced up. “Not for me.”

“Why?”

“Because I know you like me back.”

Steve paused, unsure of what to say to you. Unsure of what to think about this conversation. It was supposed to be awkward, right? This wasn’t supposed to feel comfortable.

But it did.

“I don’t understand.”

“The things you’ve been through the last however many years. Your parents,” you explained. “Of course you don’t want to risk falling for someone else or give your heart away. How could you when your own parents can’t even recognize that they have hearts?”

Steve watched you, nearly begging you to be anything besides understanding. Anything besides caring.

“You don’t have to tell me,” you continued. “I just know. I mean, I suspected for a while. But we almost kissed that day. You know, after your dad laughed at me?” He nodded. “I just knew it was a matter of time and…I decided not to push it unless you said something.”

“I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to switch it on anytime soon,” he explained, solemn as he looked back over at the empty thermos. “If I could just kiss you and, I don’t know, make everything magically reappear, I would. But…” he trailed, sighing before his eyes met yours again. “I just can’t.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to,” you replied, eyes trained on your hands. “I’m willing to wait until you’re ready.”

“But I’m just like my shitty parents,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m like ice.”

You shrugged. “Well, ice thaws.”

Steve watched you, watched the way your eyes stayed put on his hand. Watched as you stayed like that, all hopeful and at peace in his room. Perfectly content with the idea of waiting. Not rushing, not arguing.

He thought of his parents, how he’d never seen them engage in physical affection; intimacy. How they could never just have a civil conversation about their emotions. How they could never admit the truth without having to pay a toll.

There was nothing between them that mirrored this.

And maybe Steve was starting to understand what you meant.

#steve harrington x reader #Steve Harrington x gn!reader #Steve x gn!reader #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington angst #Steve Harrington x you #steve harrington imagines #I just kinda came up with this and I know it's not like the best thing ever #but I like how simple it is

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flowersandbigteeth · 1 year

Text

Your vampire boyfriend gives you a ride home

General Plot: As a bartender, you meet a lot of people. You never expect to meet the vampire you met at one of your jobs again, but he's kind enough to offer you a ride home.

A/N: ADDITIONAL WARNING: This is a story for the older tumblerinas that I had in my mind. When I turned 30 I suddenly felt like there were no vampire stories for me? So this is with that in mind. If you're not 30+ you might not really like it, unless you want to pretend to be a jaded 30-something for a while...I've been dying to do more mind control yanderes and this was a good space for it

Vampire (Julius) x female reader (30+)

Word Count: 4k

W: sfw vampire fluff, yandere vampire, mind control/hypnosis, light kidnapping?

“You don’t look like you belong here,” the vampire said to you, leaning against the bar you were standing behind. You were filling in for the usual bartender at these kinds of parties, a much younger woman with big boobs. That’s what they always asked for.

“If that’s a crack at my age, you should know I’m also too old to fall for negging,” you shot back, finding somewhere else to look.

He chuckled.

“The opposite, really, you’re the most interesting woman here,” he said, smiling, revealing long fangs. He picked up one of the glasses of blood you were pouring and took a sip, looking out over the slew of 19-23 year old girls and boys the vampires had invited to entertain their party.

“These kids are just that,” he said, “children. They look like children, baby faces...”

He turned back to you.

“Women look like they have secrets,” he said, his sharp, red eyes peering at you over his glass, “I bet there’s a few things you’ve seen, maybe done, that will follow you to your grave.”

You looked a little incensed and shrugged. It was true, what grown woman didn’t have secrets? You’d all done something you hoped never saw the light of day, it was part of making mistakes and growing up. He wasn’t unique for guessing that.

“The same goes for me,” he laughed, looking at his drink and spinning the glass, “but that’s what makes you so much more fascinating. I won’t be so trite as to compare a woman to a glass of wine, but there’s something alluring about complexity. You’ve had heartbreaks. Triumphs."

"You’ve gotten high on your ego. You’ve been dragged down and humbled. You’ve created your own tragedies that you’ll always regret and they have formed you into a layered person. All things these kids have yet to experience. There’s nothing wrong with them…just…I’ve never been interested in innocence.”

“You’re bored then,” you said, ignoring his musings and wiping down the bar. It was late in the night and most of the vampires had found willing humans to feed from, no longer needing your services. The sooner they all filtered out to whatever dark caves they disappeared off to, the sooner you could pack up and go home.

“I’m here to serve drinks. I’m not good company,” you said blandly, “sure a handsome guy like you could find better pickings at a bar uptown.”

Sure he was handsome, with deep brown skin and black locs swept away from his face trailing down his back, but all vampires were good looking. They also liked to play games and drink blood, neither of which sparked your interest.

“I guess you caught me,” he said, “I hate coming to these things. I arrange them for the clan, so I have to be here, but parties got old a long time ago.”

He looked you over, considering what was under the crisp white button down you were wearing.

“But you’re wrong about one thing, I’m not going to find a more captivating woman anywhere else,” he said. “I’ve lived a long time, but I’ve never met someone who piqued my interest quite like you do.”

You laughed in his face.

“I’m sorry, but that sounds like a line,” you said, smirking, “and I’m a bit too complex to fall for those, too.”

You appreciated it, anyway, but you weren’t letting the smooth talking vamp make headway with you. You were going to go home alone to another peaceful night drinking tea and reading novels in bed, not getting chewed on, tossed aside by a vampire playboy, and taking an awkward Uber home at 4am. While that had been fun at 23 it had long since lost its shine.

The house lights went up and you almost let out a sigh of relief. The party was finally over.

“That’s my cue to make myself scarce,” you said, giving him a smile, “have a nice night, mister.”

You turned your back on him to pack up the rest of the blood bags you hadn’t used and when you flipped back around he was gone. Not thinking much of it, you finished cleaning up and headed home.

–

Julius watched you from across the room. You’d never know he was there, slinking in the shadows. He was jealous of the way you were smiling at the man in front of you as you mixed his drink. He made a joke and you giggled, making his blood boil.

You weren’t taken with the man, just doing your job. There was a conference at the hotel and the after party was filled with forty-somethings mingling and sloppily dancing to 2000’s hits in ill fitting business casual.

Before he walked away Julius watched him slide his business card across the counter to you. You chuckled at his back as he walked off and dropped it in the fishbowl someone had placed on the bar for the raffle, making his rage deflate a little bit. He wasn’t the only man you rebuffed.

Julius was a hunter, though, in his 597 years of life he’d perfected his craft. He’d identified his prey and nothing would shake him off your trail. He’d been watching you, showing up to the parties you bartended at and creeping on you from the shadows. It had been weeks since he’d first talked to you.

In that time he’d learned your name was (Y/N), what catering company you worked for, and your home address. He knew the names of all your friends, who you were closest to and who you had drama with, and enough about your troubles to get a pretty good picture of you as a person.

He was fascinated with your complicated smiles and the walls you put up to keep people out. From following you, he knew you were self reliant and a homebody. You didn’t go on dates. You always turned men down even when you found them attractive. He’d watched you go home to read one of your spicy books alone night after night.

He was starting to learn what was a fake facade you put on for your customers and what genuinely pleased you, but it was all from so far away. You were a pretty bird that he could only observe. He wanted to get closer, but he didn’t want to frighten you away. How to arrange a meeting?

He glanced at the 40-something who had approached you, pulling him into the shadows and looking at him with his swirling red irises, whispering something to him before releasing him again.

When the party ended, fairly early due to the crowd, you packed up your bar and loaded up the van you used to transport the liquor and coolers.

“Looky here, it’s you again,” the man from before slurred as he appeared behind you.

You jumped, startled and narrowed your eyes at him.

“I’m just about to go,” you said, hurrying to put the last of the coolers in the van, but there was still some stuff to load.

“Why don’t you let me give you a hand, doll?” he asked, stumbling towards you, obviously drunk. You had no idea how he got so drunk because you didn’t remember giving him that many drinks.

“I’m really fine,” you said, holding up your hands to warn him off.

The drunk took this as an invitation and fell into you, trying to plant a kiss on you.

“Hey get off!” you growled, pushing at him.

“You started it, doll,” he purred in your ear, his hands finding your hips.

You were just going to push him away when he was suddenly removed from you.

“Get lost,” a deep voice said and the handsome vampire you remembered from the vampire party you catered a month ago appeared dragging the guy off of you by the collar.

The man blanched, looking suddenly very lucid and terrified, disappearing down the alley.

“Thanks,” you gasped, catching your breath, “that guy was a creep. If you hadn’t of been here…”

He smiled at you, flashing his sharp fangs.

“How auspicious that we meet again,” he said, “maybe this time you’ll let me introduce myself before you scurry off.”

Shaken from the attack and thankful for his help, you stuck out a shaking hand.

“(Y/N),” you said.

He took it, but instead of shaking it he folded himself down and kissed it.

“Julius,” he said.

You pulled your hand back, even though your heart fluttered a little. No one had ever done that before.

“Well…like I said, thanks…I should get going,” you said, slowly turning back to your stuff and putting the last of it in.

“It’s been a pleasure,” he said, “maybe I’ll see you again.”

You glanced out of your rearview and he was still standing there when you started the van and took off. There was a loud grinding noise and you hurriedly brought the van to a stop to try and figure out what it was. Julius appeared by your driver’s side window and pointed for you to roll it down.

“Seems we meet sooner than expected,” he laughed, “someone stole your back tire.”

You jumped out of the van and clucked in your throat when you saw that indeed, someone had stolen the tire from the van.

“Just great,” you groaned, fishing in your pocket for your phone to call someone and just to make your night, your phone battery had gone dead.

“Need some help?” Julius asked.

You turned back to him, rubbing your head.

“Yeah, actually, jeez…I’m so sorry to impose like this but is there any way I could use your phone or something to call someone?” you asked.

He smiled at you.

“I can do you one better and give you a ride home if you want,” he said, “we can call the tow truck in the car. I’d hate for you to have to sit out here in the dark on an obviously dangerous street until someone comes to pick you up.”

You looked around, acknowledging that you’d both been accosted and had your tire stolen on this street. It wasn’t looking good for your prospects.

“Okay…” you said, “but let me send a picture of your driver’s license to my friend…just you know, to make sure you’re not a wierdo.”

He chuckled, pulling out his wallet. He was happy to hand it over, because it was fake.

“Of course,” he said, “that’s perfectly reasonable. I want you to feel safe with me.”

He handed you his phone and you snapped the picture, typing in your closest friend’s number that hadn’t changed in the twenty years you’d known her. She was on vacation in Italy and wouldn’t see it, but this was all just to discourage any funny business anyway. He didn’t have to know that.

Ironically, since he’d been stalking you, Julius did know and smirked as you sent the message. When you were done you passed him his phone back and he led you to a sleek foreign sports car parked in the back lot.

“This is niiiiice,” you laughed as he opened the door for you, “I’m shocked you still have all of your tires.”

Julius stiffened imperceptibly and if you’d thought about that statement for a minute or more you might have saved yourself a lot of trouble. Or maybe you were already stuck in the spider’s web and it was too late.

Whatever the case, the door shut with a click as you sat down and Julius swung around to the opposite side to slide into the driver’s seat. To your surprise he tugged your chin to face him. You would have been annoyed or startled, but when your eyes met his swirling red ones you only felt a sense of peace.

“I’m taking you to your house,” he said, evenly.

You nodded, believing him because he’d hypnotized you. He’d ensured that you didn’t struggle while he took you to his. He wanted to talk to you, not watch you sleep in his passenger’s seat.

Having stalked you for a month, he wanted to hear your voice…see your eyes flicker when you spoke with him. When he let go of your chin, it never even occurred to you to tell him where you lived.

Instead you leaned forward and nervously fussed with his music system, swiping through songs on the touch screen. His scent was filling the space, some kind of expensive cologne mixed with a masculine musk unique to him, and making your head a little swimmy and maybe your heart a little fluttery.

You strategically avoided situations like this, chronically single for a reason. Significant others came with compromises and you were happy with your life. Over years you’d built it to be what you wanted it to be. No, you weren’t rich, but you could buy the things you wanted, within reason, and had a comfortable roof over your head filled with the things that comforted you.

Your own frugality and ingenuity gave you a lot of pride. You’d DIY’ed a bunch of things to make them nice and you did your own car maintenance. You felt whole. The idea of changing your world, carefully crafted over the course of decades to make room for some unreliable stranger seemed simply unappealing.

Now you were all fluttery and your hands were sweaty and it annoyed you. It was a threat to your way of life.

“You listen to Death Cab…?” you snorted, staunchly pushing him away with the first thing that caught your eye, “what are you a moody teenage girl from the early 2000’s?”

He smirked at you and reached over your hand with his larger, cooler one, pressing play.

The stormy, proggy guitar riffs that were enigmatic in 2004 drifted out of the speakers all around you. You jerked your hand back, cheeks burning.

As the music pulled you back to an earlier time when you smoked pot with some boy who’s name and face you didn’t even remember anymore while you avoided a party on a rooftop, listening to this song filtered through the shingles under your feet.

Oh, instincts are misleading…you shouldn’t think what you’re feeling…

You’d believed in love then. Maybe you’d thought you’d loved that boy that you couldn’t even remember. Just like the song love was campy, but annoyingly poignant and you felt your eyes water with some kind of wistfulness you weren’t used to feeling.

Surprising even yourself you snorted when another song you recognized played.

“I had my first time to this song,” you laughed, blushing at admitting something so personal on a whim, but smiling to yourself, “god, how things have changed…”

We looked like giants, in the back of my gray subcompact, fumbling to make contact…

He tipped his head to the side, glancing at you while trying to keep his eyes on the road. He really just wanted to look at your glowing face on the brink of tears at a silly album he had in his music collection.

“You’re telling me,” he laughed, “want to hear what I had my first time to?”

Your head snapped to him, interested. A vampire’s song? You had to know.

He flipped through the songs until the sound of lutes and flutes filled the car and you couldn’t hold back your giggle when a deep voice singing in Italian bellowed something that sounded maybe like opera?

He smiled at you, tapping his hands on the steering wheel and flashing his fangs.

“You laugh, but this was extremely popular in my time,” he said, “Guacomo was a genius!”

You gave him a pacifying nod, smothering a snicker and remembering that oldies in vampire time was very different from yours, as he sang a few lines with a booming baritone.

“It’s kind of a bop,” you said, acknowledging that the flutes were nice. Giving him a devious look you asked him a question he liked.

“So where was it?” you asked.

“My first time?”

You nodded and he laughed.

“In a brothel my father took me to. I was so frightened I almost couldn’t do it, but she was a kind woman. Took me right in my chair in the middle of the performance.”

He was too polite to ask you yours, so, because it was fair, you told him.

“Mine was in the back of a Chrysler Sebring,” you chuckled, “on a very rainy day after I finished a job interview.”

He laughed out loud.

“After a job interview?!” he chuckled, “naughty girl. Did you get the job?”

You nodded and he grinned. The air in the car had cleared and you’d gotten so comfortable you hadn’t even noticed he’d stopped until then.

“Where are we?” you asked, looking around at the underground parking lot he’d driven you into.

He looked into your eyes.

“You asked me to bring you to my house,” he said, “we are getting along so well you don’t want the night to end just yet. You want to have a cup of tea, but you’re all out.”

“Oh, right,” you said, chuckling that you’d forgotten and letting him help you out of the car.

He had to stifle his grin as he led his unsuspecting little lamb up the elevator that would deposit the two of you at his penthouse.

“This is beautiful,” you gasped at the lovely apartment.

It was wide and open with an almost 180 degree view of the city and the river running beside it. Stars sparkled in the night’s sky, above the light pollution. His decor was sleek and modern in light, cool colors.

You jumped as a vampire servant appeared, silently taking Julius’ coat.

“Bring my guest some tea,” he said over his shoulder as he led you out onto the terrace wrapping around the building. A small swimming pool was built into the balcony with a hot tub, but he led you to a couch under an elegantly designed propane heater.

Somewhere in the back of your mind you had the sneaking suspicion something wasn’t right, but it had been so long since you’d been alone, intimately with a man you were kind of getting drawn into the attention and the environment. The weather was a little chilly, but it was warm under the heater.

He cupped your elbow as he got you comfortable on the couch, sliding next to you. Not too close to spook you, but close enough to be a bit thrilling. He’d played this cat and mouse game with a thousand other women, but no chase was as exciting as this one. He didn’t plan on having you for a night and then tossing you aside.

His plans for you were much, much bigger. Some part of him had been looking for his dream woman since his first time, but women had always just been…unmemorable. It didn’t matter if they were glamorous, perfect vampires like him or innocent human twenty-somethings, he found them utterly dull, until you.

When he’d first spotted you in your crisp white shirt, he’d immediately frowned. He thought someone had put a spell on him or a glamor on you. He’d never responded so viscerally to a woman before, his cold heart thudding in his chest. And when you’d put him off…he’d been sure you were sent from the Goddess herself to punish him.

You weren’t perfect, like some plastic doll. Your face had character, framed with the rogue gray hairs you stubbornly refused to pluck or dye and fine lines around the corners of your eyes. Your boobs weren’ that ideal ratio teenage boys who’d never been near a woman’s breasts before had determined was beautiful and your stomach wasn’t tight. But all of those imperfect strokes painted a ceaselessly lovely picture for Julius.

You looked like he’d dreamed you with all of his favorite little quirks, the way your teeth were spaced and the shape of your nose…they would all seem not quite perfect to anyone else, but to him…they were exactly what he would have chosen if he'd designed you himself.

He knew it was a little cliche, but he had to ask. “It’s surprising a sophisticated, pretty woman such as yourself is still single,” he murmured, glancing over your face.

Your cheeks warmed slightly.

“I like my life,” you said, confidently, “never needed a man, I guess.”

“Maybe never needed,” he agreed, “but never wanted?”

You swallowed thickly as a pot of tea and a cup was set out for you by the silent butler.

You took a sip of the too hot liquid before answering.

“Romance just never seemed important,” you replied, “I have friends. I can buy myself everything that I need.”

He scoffed.

“Now that’s interesting,” he said, patting his knee, “because the only thing I can confidently say I’ve learned in all of my 597 years is that love is the most important thing. Everything else…dust…but love never had a form. It lasts forever, hovering in the aether. Even death can’t kill it.”

He narrowed his shrewd eyes at you.

“I see we have to disconnect you from your comfort objects,” he said, thoughtfully.

You wrinkled your brow at him, a little confused, but just laughed it off. People said strange things all the time, maybe you’d missed something.

“I want you to kiss me,” he said, this time to you.

“What?” you asked, a little taken aback at his direct approach.

He smirked.

“As an experiment. If you really aren’t missing anything, then there’s nothing to worry about. You’ll kiss me, it’ll mean nothing and you’ll have won the bet.”

“Your wager is I am missing something?” you asked, “something you have?”

He nodded, an amused smile playing on his lips. You chuckled.

“Okaaay, that’s one of the more interesting lines I’ve heard to get a kiss, but I’ll bite,” you said, then gave him a more serious look, “but only one. This isn’t an invitation.”

He nodded innocently, agreeing.

You couldn’t help but like Julius. He was handsome and a little bit charming. Kissing him wasn’t really a hardship. You were willing to try it. Carefully, you placed your tea cup on the saucer and smoothed your hands on your pants. You gave him a careless look to let him know you were absolutely not going to fall for this, before, leaning in and pushing your fingertip under his chin to lift it just a bit.

Then you tipped your head to the side and pressed your lips against his. He let you stay in charge for just a moment, his cool lips moving just slightly under your warmer ones. Then you felt his hand take yours, pulling it aside, while his arm circled around you nudging you into him. His tongue brushed your bottom lip as he deepened the kiss and you saw sparks when yours automatically followed his, just lightly scraping one of his fangs.

He had a slightly coppery taste with a bit of spice and your mouth watered just a bit, tasting him. Your lips and mouths moved together like they’d always known one another. Like this wasn’t your first kiss, but one you’d given him a thousand times, yet was never less exciting than the first. You would have been startled if you hadn’t been so lost in it.

He didn’t want to pull away from you, knowing he could push for more…but again, he didn’t just want one night with you. He had to be careful how he approached you, so he let his mouth drift from yours, delighted when your head followed his just a bit, chasing him.

His red eyes sparkled down at you.

“Did I win the bet?” he asked.

“Hmm?”

He chuckled and you blinked, your eyes focusing and your sense slowly coming back to you. You hurried out of his arms.

“No,” you said, quickly.

“No?” he asked, very amused, because he knew you were lying.

You tried to school your very guilty features. That was a good enough kiss it was actually difficult to lie about. You definitely wanted another one, but you absolutely did not want to ask for it. Your emotions were all over the place. He read the slight panic rising in you and, though it was amusing, decided to play the long game.

“Why don’t we call it a night?” he said, “you won the bet, so I’ll give you a favor.”

You looked at him.

“What?”

He shrugged.

“Whatever you like,” he said, “think about it…a favor from a vampire is valuable. Don’t waste it.”

You chuckled at him and shook your head at the strange statement.

“I should probably be heading home,” you said, finally.

He grinned at you with a knowing look and tipped his head to the side, his eyes sparkling.

“You’re too tired to go home tonight,” he said evenly, “you want to sleep in my guest room.”

You yawned as his hypnosis worked and your eyes got heavy.

“I’m so tired,” you said, “thank you for offering me your guest room. I think I’ll head to bed now.”

He nodded and waved his hand. To your surprise the butler eerily appeared.

“He’ll show you to your room,” he said and you followed the butler out, only glancing back once over your shoulder to see Julius was watching you with glowing eyes as you walked away.

#vampire x reader #vampire x human #vampire fluff #monster x reader #monster x human #monster fluff #yandere x reader #yandere x female reader #yandere fluff #male yandere #x reader #sfw monster fluff #sfw fluff

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oncewhenalongtimeago · 9 months

Text

Always an Angel, Never the God Pt 2

Pairing: Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III x Runaway!Reader

Words: 3119

After a few months alone in the sky, you find yourself with an unlikely roommate.

Tags: Gender neutral/intended Female, Runaway Reader, Angst, Unrequited love, Requited love, Heartbreak, grief

You grind your teeth, eyes watering as a heavy booted foot pushes you down further into the wooden ship floor. The ship rocks angrily as does your dragon, struggling against the barbed netting.

“Who are you? A new vigilante?” The leading trapper, Erik son of Erik or something, asked, bending down above you. He had, coincidentally, been the one to shoot you down.

“Where is your… hideout?” He leaned down into your ear at your silence, speaking in a raspy whisper. You got the vague impression he was trying to be intimidating, though the end results were more in favor of making you blush.

You were thankful for the hard wood covering your face and, therefore, your embarrassment. Of your belongings, you were only able to manage a mask and had taken to running around ensconced in furs with nothing but a dagger to your name.

You’d recon you looked much like a wild animal, straddling your nadder bare of a saddle. You had not done too well on your own. It was hard. You had always been a team player if by team player you meant a leech on society. At least, you had been told so.

So of course you had, unwittingly, stumbled onto dragon trapping territory. Extreme sport dragon trapping territory. It didn’t help that you and your nadder hadn’t been on the same page, you two being unable to sync in the way you’d seen the other riders with their dragons, which left a bitter taste in your mouth.

He’d go left when you were trying for right, and when you finally decided to just go with it, he would change his mind and throw you for a complete loop. It was safe to say that even if you got out of this mess you never wanted to step foot on his back again.

You breathed a silent sigh of relief just as the trapper let out an annoyed one, stepping off of you in favor of yelling at his men for damaging their goods. Meaning, your nadder. Was he really yours, though? He did try and make a break for it without you.

While debating whether or not you should try at the ropes shackling your arms together, you grunt frustratedly, noticing a new tear in your garb.

After running away and getting captured, you had not expected to be kidnapped again by some insane-looking madman in a mask. Though you did look like two of a kind, so it was fitting.

Your nadder had its wings torn irreparably, so, unfortunately, you had to retire him early.

You found small comfort in that it hadn’t abandoned you on the ship that one final time, though the irony that it had led you here was not lost on you.

He visited sometimes. He took to life in the sanctuary very well.

You didn’t, a borderline prisoner before you’d been able to win over the trust of the resident feral gorgon. Sort of. She was a woman who let you see her face, more on accident than anything else. You hadn’t let her see you or hear yours. However you weren’t inclined to speak of her nicely, least of all in your head, after the number of weeks you spent trapped in a cave at her behest.

Finally, you’d been let out. Let out enough to walk more than just the short stretch of stone and greenish ice that made up your prison. The endless turquoise was beginning to make you sick.

Recently, you found a real friend in the sanctuary, and this dragon, it was truly yours. Affectionately named, fed and groomed, you two were almost inseparable. It was the kind of friendship with a dragon you’d completely missed out on on Berk.

It was hard to maintain given your captive status, but that was alright.

There probably wasn’t any social profit involved in being a vigilante, which is why you assumed the crazy dragon lady had taken to speaking at you in her spare time. About the dragons, what they ate, what she had to do. Pointedly she gave away nothing of their true secrets, not that you wanted them, nor anything of her vigilant-ing. Not verbally, though the influx of injuries both on her and the dragons spoke volumes.

She did give away her name.

You groan, rubbing your eyes under your mask as you cradle the thing to your face with the other.

“You’re quite attached to your mask,” Valka said amusedly, shifting the logs roasting in the fire with a stick, pushing them back and forth as you sat in silence. You hardly ever spoke a word, nowadays.

Her dragon, the stormcutter, stared at you with large eyes through the licking flames.

Neither of you mentioned that the only real reason you’d been able to keep your mask so long was that she’d been kind enough to let you. An allowance you’d been given on a whim. One you clung to with all the nervous energy of Fishlegs to his dragon cards.

“... I’d rather not be,” You grumble, voice raspy from disuse, “It’s stuffy.”

“Oh,” Valka looked at you, amused and maybe a little surprised to hear you speak at last, before going back to tend to her fires, “I was starting to think you couldn’t speak.”

“Funny.” You said, lifting a sharpened stick off the ground, spearing it through a slimy, gutted fish from the basket beside you. Your nose wrinkled as you heard the sharp point break skin. No amount of faux stoicism could make it seem pleasant to you.

“I have a few questions,” You grimace under your mask as she asserts herself. She can ask them all she wants, but there’s no guarantee you’ll answer.

You might, probably, as keeping secrets hasn’t always been your strong suit. She’s certainly been trying to open you up for a while. You’ve not given her any leeway before though, no reason to give her any now.

“How did you tame your dragon?” She asked, pushing a particularly thick dragon searching for morsels. Valka guides its head gently away with her spare hand before any of the other dragons crowding around them get any ideas.

You wait for a moment, still wondering whether you should follow along. Eventually, you decide to answer.

“Wasn’t me. Someone else back home did it,” You huff, “I just followed along.”

“...But not very well,” Valka hums. It’s obvious she doesn’t believe you. Unfortunately for her, that is not your problem.

She pulls a small trout off her own stick, tossing it to a crowd of young dragons, who you knew had acquired a taste for the cooked, through no fault of your own.

You should feel offended, but you know she’s right. You lean away from a wandering dragon snout as it searches you for morsels. The stormcutter, after a look from Valka, shoos it away with a large wing.

“Where are you from?”

You feel the embers from the fire as they rise, the furs of your coat becoming nearly unbearable, your skin heated up rapidly. You wrinkle your brow with annoyance as you feel a drop of sweat slide down the side of your face.

“Where are you from?” You retort pointedly.

She studies you cautiously, as if she could glean your intentions from your body language. And she very well could. Or the heat was getting to you, the wells you’d spent in solitude had finally done some real damage to your psyche, and you were hallucinating.

“Berk,” She says. You sit back, surprised, “And you?”

“...None of your business.” You wonder how long it had been since she had left. You pray she would not know you.

Valka raised her eyebrow.

“I’m serious.” You ground your heel into the dirt. It was a touchy subject, still.

“Berk, too. …Stop looking at me like that.”

Valka leaned back against the ice wall where you rested, looking out over the empty ocean as dragons flooded to and fro the sanctuary. You squinted far into the distance, as if you thought you might be able to see through it if you tried hard enough.

Your hair tugged wildly by the winds out from behind your mask as you sat, one leg extended and the other bent as you leaned back against one arm.

You probably looked as you felt, weary and unkempt after a long flight over the seas with your dragon, who clambered among the icy spike-lined wall with clawed hands. You felt refreshed yet somehow at odds with yourself still.

You cared little for your bedraggled demeanor the same way you hadn’t cared for much at all in a while. It might have made a cool picture had you not slipped and fallen onto your face on the ice just a few minutes prior. Whether you had broken your nose or not on your mask had yet to be uncovered. All that mattered was that Valka hadn’t seen.

Dragons crowed. Through the cracks in the walls of the sanctuary, the wind would whistle through if it hit the right angle. Louder than anything else were the sounds of the waves crashing against rock.

But between you and Valka, it was silent. A contemplative silence, the kind of silence you shared with others after a long thought or a hard day’s work. That’s how you knew she was going to break it.

“Why did you leave?”

You are annoyed at the prospect but are no less expectant. After the moment passes, you are not surprised. However, it feels as if you are the one who should be asking.

“Why did I leave?” You ask, “Does it matter?”

A loose chunk of ice falls off the side of the sanctuary as a large titan scrambles violently down the side, chasing after a bright yellow baby. You spot a shape through the fog, distant and blurry enough to resemble a bird though there are no birds here. You pointedly do not think of your small hut, even less of green eyes, and tiny, fading freckles.

Valka tilted her head in your direction, reaching a hand out to scratch Cloudjumper under his chin as he lowered himself towards her, “It mattered to you.”

You open your mouth, but you are only able to choke on your breath. No one has ever said something like that to you, not in a long while. You don’t understand why it’s hitting you so hard. Maybe it’s the isolation.

You blame the burning of your eyes on the biting wind.

“Why did you leave?” You ask in return, once you’ve taken time for yourself, though you have an idea. You can’t keep your voice from sounding a little bit scratchy.

You unhook your dagger from your belt, trying not to seem so attentive. Instead, you take to carving random shapes into the ice. A gronkle. A nadder.

“I was taken.” She sighs, quieter now. Lost off in memory as you both often are.

The nadder’s spikes are much too long. The gronkle looks more like a sandwich than a dragon.

“Taken?” You prompt and you begin on the outline of a fury. The result is shallow and scratchy.

It’s one of your own designs, not the same as the one Berk uses. Astrid liked the other one better, not yours, so that was the one Hiccup went with.

“I didn’t leave,” She insisted, almost as if she was trying to convince herself of the fact, “I had a son, and a husband.”

You’ve seen her by the fires, while trying to sneak out of this hellish ice maze. She talks to herself then. On particularly paranoid days, she’s slept by you, in the same caverns, so you’ve heard it. She talks in her sleep and says things she would never say awake, or had you been around. It’s all so very unsettling.

“Really?” You remarked with false astonishment. The facade is flimsy, but you figured you’d give her the benefit of the doubt. The grace to assume that you’d no idea what she was on about.

With prompting, you might have seen it earlier. In her slim form, the one she kept hidden under thick furs and thicker armor. You squint. They have the same eye color. The same hair. They both have higher cheekbones, though her son more resembles his father in that aspect. That is all.

Valka shoots you a reprimanding look. Cloudjumper, now creeping down the wall behind you, taps you on the back of your head with its tail at her behest.

Valka was of the air. Though he had the same flighty tendencies, he was very grounded, like his father, though he might either be proud or loath to admit it. He loved flying, yes, but he loved inventing and processing and routine just as much, if not more.

He did when you were close. Of course he did, he spent his whole life on it. You couldn’t really say you knew him anymore.

You didn’t pin Valka as the type to enjoy the same in any sort of manner. But that suited you just as well. You found that as time went by and as you were granted more freedoms, you appreciated it. It made it easier for you to forget. To ignore.

In the end they, you and she, she and you, were one and the same.

“But what does it matter, if you never went back?” You grumble, pushing your dragon’s head away as it nudges you towards the cliff, crooning for more flying time.

You guessed that was why she clung so viciously to the safety of her sanctuary. Why she hated other people so much, why she’d had no faith in the humanity of other people, why she’d held you here so strictly. If things could have been different, then what did she give it all up for?

Though you’d never had something else. Not even the option. You’d never been given it. Valka hadn’t been given it either, but there was a sure difference between something being there and not.

The atmosphere is silent again, tainted with some darker undertones. If you’d had to put a name to it, you might have called it grief.

“I want to leave.”

Valka doesn’t look surprised at your request. And indeed, it’s been no secret that you wanted to leave. Maybe she was glad for it, or maybe she was sad at the news.

After all, you settled into each other's presence long ago. You had a good sort of companionship.

And from that companionship, you learned a lot without even trying, just by watching. Eventually she took notice and she took an active part in teaching you the truths she learned during all her years in self-imposed isolation.

You two weren’t incredibly close but you could tell Valka was grateful for the company, grateful to have someone maybe even a little bit like her, even if most of it was spent in silence.

You still left the Drago fighting for her. It wasn’t your fight, it was hers, and you made that clear.

Neither of you brought up Berk. Ever.

You were content to just come and go as you pleased, for a while. Nonetheless, despite your freedom, you felt restricted to the small world of the Sanctuary and the empty skies around it. There was no place for you on the ground or by the seas, where hunters and trappers swarmed by the thousands and Drago’s armies grew by the day.

You spent so much time learning from her and yet it felt like no time at all. Which was why you were shocked when you’d truly learned how much had come and gone in full.

You were out slinking in the shadows, seeking shelter from a storm on the same small rocky outcropping of island that had a shipful of trappers stranded, in a rage and a panic as they attempted to recover their assets. The winds had been too rough to fly, so you had no choice but to wait and listen.

You didn’t believe it at first. It had been…

Months.

You wondered if he’d been married, yet.

Years.

The idea hurt, not as much as you’d thought it would, still not as little as you’d hoped.

Under clear skies, you found an inn, untouched by everything except grass and trees.

You asked, “What day is it?”

The large man, a burly viking scrubbing down a wooden cup with a torn old rag, had looked down at you skeptically from behind a beaten pine and stone counter.

Two years. It had been nearly two years since you left Berk. Just as Valka’s attachments kept her at the Sanctuary, you needed to go. To run.

Since you had heard it, spoken it, the urge to run, to fly hadn’t abated at all, going from a wispy thought at the back of your mind to a full blown need. Your dragon too had become antsy, maybe feeding off of your nervous energy. Eager to take off, to fly new skies.

“Are you sure?” Valka asked searchingly. You two were stationed over a heavily planted cliff over a large main pool which consisted of the main cavern within the Sanctuary, once again in front of a fire, eating your own meals as the dragons below ate and exchanged fish.

You were already packed, your mask secured as it had been for all two years you had been in this place stuck between confinement and dwelling. You almost regretted it, not telling her your name, but you couldn’t bear yourself to her knowing who she was, not truly. Not until you’d washed yourself of that particular weight.

“Yes,” One day you would, if you ever saw her again. Once you were released from the heartache and pain of your own making, “I am. Thank you.”

You started out into the pale foggy sky, mounted your beast as smooth as you’d ever done, which is to say, not smooth at all. You’d only ever managed it right when Valka was watching, anyhow. It was odd how that worked, maybe the peer pressure was finally starting to kick in.

As you took off and the sanctuary became smaller and smaller both to your eyes and your mind, as the tight bundle of chains in your chest dropped and the world opened up to you once more, you felt light, and free.

Once again, there was no one to watch you and no one to hurt for besides your and your dragon. Endless opportunity. Thousands of ways to keep going.

You wondered what your face looked like.

You couldn’t wait to see it again.

#hiccup haddock #hiccup x reader #how to train your dragon #httyd #x reader #fanfiction #httyd imagine #httyd fanficiton

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moistmailman · 4 months

Text

Baldur Gate 3 AU

*At the camp where everyone is celebrating the defeat of the goblin camp*

*Pyrrha is sitting off by herself watching everyone celebrating; she looks very distant and deeply in her own head*

???: Hey, is this spot taken?

*Pyrrha slightly jump before turning to see a blond paladin standing over her with a sweet smile*

Pyrrha, awkwardly smiling: Oh, no. Here. *scoots over*

Jaune, sitting down: You seem kinda jumpy, everything okay?

Pyrrha, smiling: Yeah, everything’s great. We saved the tieflings and defeated all the goblins with little to no trouble.

*Pyrrha looks over to see Yang trying to out drink a random tiefling*

Pyrrha, chuckling: It’s a great night. A night of celebration.

Jaune, smiling: I know. Everyone seems to be on board but you, though. How come you’re all the way over here by your lonesome self? *nudges Pyrrha’s shoulder with his playfully*

Pyrrha, awkwardly: No reason. Just….lost in my thought is all. Got a lot going on in my head at the moment.

Jaune: Is it about your memory?

*pyrrha paused for a brief moment, almost questioning something to herself*

Pyrrha:….yeah, you got me. Like an open book.

Jaune, comfortingly: Hey, I’m sure that your memories are going to come back one day. Just a matter of time honestly.

Pyrrha: You think so?

Jaune: I’m certain. Besides, I’m sure there has to be some sort of magic out there that can help you. It’s just a matter of when and not if.

*Pyrrha pauses before looking off in the distance, obviously questioning something*

Jaune: You okay?

Pyrrha:….what if I don’t like what I was?

Jaune: What?

Pyrrha: W-what if….what if the person who I was before isn’t something i would want to know about? What if it’s just better to stay ignorant?

Jaune: Why would you think that?

Pyrrha, shrugging: I don’t know. *forces a chuckle* Maybe I’m just paranoid, you know? I’m probably just over thinking things.

Jaune: Look, I don’t know what kinda person you were in the past, but if there is one thing I’m certain of is that you must’ve been the sweetest woman in all of Baldur’s Gate.

Pyrrha: How can you be sure though?

Jaune: What other woman would take on an entire army of goblins to save a bunch of strangers she has never met before?

Pyrrha, blushing: I didn’t do it alone, though. You guys help.

Jaune: So? You still went through with the plan, regardless of how dangerous it could me. You put your neck on the line for strangers. I don’t know about you, but that’s something only a good person would do. A great person in fact. One of the bests.

*Pyrrha pauses for a moment for slowly smiling*

Pyrrha: You’re right. Thanks, Jaune.

Jaune, smiling back: No problem.

*as the party goes on, Pyrrha lies her head on Jaune’s shoulder as she watches everyone else have a good time*

*Yang and Nora were having an arm wrestling contest with Toby cheering them on and Weiss looking in disappointment while Blake is busy reading a book next to them with a subtle smile plastered on her face*

*Ren was entertaining children with his magic as he mad miniature fireworks for them to clap at*

*Pyrrha takes a deep breath before turning to look at Jaune, who was smiling while watching the party unfold*

Pyrrha, I’m her head: He’s oddly handsome for a paladin as scrawny as him, but his heart seems to really make up for his lack of muscles. He looks so sweet right now though. So nice, caring…..and vulnerable….

*suddenly a splitting headache creeps up on her as a dreadful and unfortunate familiar sensation appears*

A voice in Pyrrha’s head: KILL……KILL……KILL….KILL

*Pyrrha grits and teeth and clenches her eyes shut as she tries to ignore this enticing nature she has*

Voice: KILL….KILL….KILL HIM!!!!!

Pyrrha: *resists*

Voice, getting louder: KILL HIM! SNAP HIS NECK! CUT HIS THROAT! CAVE HIS SKULL! KILL KILL KILLLLLLL!

*Pyrrha starts to visibly shake as the voice is getting more powerful and demanding, but as fast as it appeared, it disappears, becoming nothing but a thought.

Pyrrha: *looks down to see Jaune squeezed her hand, which seem to what kill the urge in her*

Jaune, comfortingly: Hey, you okay? You look spook.

Pyrrha, finally finding her voice: Y-yeah. Thanks. *squeezes his hand back* Just lost in my thoughts again is all.

Jaune: You’re going to be alright?

Pyrrha: I-I…..I hope.

*Jaune gives Pyrrha a reassuring squeeze on her hand, which calms her nerves down even more, having her relax once again and burying the urge she just had even deeper away*

*the party goes on all night as Pyrrha soon wanders off to sleep, her head still on his shoulder the whole night*

#rwby #pyrrha nikos #jaune arc #arkos #!dark urge pyrrha #yang xiao long #weiss schnee #blake belladonna #lie ren #ruby rose #Rwby au

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killmongerskeeper · 1 year

Text

Crashing Waves // Chapter 3 // Namor

Pairing: Namor x POC Reader

Warning: Spoilers, Mentions of Violence

Chapter 2 // Chapter 4

When your eyes fluttered open the first thing you saw was the crystallization of what seems to be a cave. You slowly sat up to see a blue woman sitting at the edge of your bed.

"Where-"

“You're awake.” A soft voice called out to you as the wet cloth was taken from your forehead.

"Where am I?" You mumbled as she placed a cold hand on your forehead.

"You will be okay. Just rest while I go retrieve K'uk'ulkan." She said in a soft voice before getting up to walk away. In her absence you shifted some of your powers to your neck and head to get rid of the throbbing headache. You phased the green hue away as you could hear footsteps approaching. The man from earlier appears in the walkway, dressed in a more casual outfit littered with vibranium and gold. He stared down at you before kneeling down to your eye level.

"How are you feeling, surface dweller?" He asked you and you gave a small shrug.

"Where am I?" You asked a second time since you didn’t receive an answer from the first woman. You looked around the cave and only saw one entrance, and it's underwater. Fuck.

"Our home. We brought you here because you seem to be more important to that operation than just being there to verify the findings." He said to you as you swallowed the lump in your throat.

"I'm just a college professor. Nothing more. I studied lots of folklore and know more about mythology than any of them did.” You responded with a shrug.

"So tell me, if you were just trying to protect the vibranium, why did they have you tag along?" Your voice was caught in your throat as another one of his people entered the space. He was huge and scared you a little bit. You didn’t know what would happen if you didn't cooperate. You were already underwater, god knows how deep from the surface. Last thing you needed was to go missing down here. You opened your mouth to speak but nothing came out as they all watched you attentively. As if waiting for you to pull some stunt against their leader. Instead you reached your hand out to his forehead causing the blue woman behind him to tense.

"Jach ti' u utsil k'ana'an ju'uno'ob ma' att"

(It's in your best interest not to attack.)

"I'm sure if she wanted to attack, she would have back on that ship." Namor stated as your hand began to glow from the green energy flowing from it. You softly touched Namor's forehead as you decided to show him why you were there instead of saying it. Brown met brown as the two of you stared into the others eyes. He seems shocked that you were displaying such an ability. You pulled back as your breath hitched before tilting over. He caught you by the arm before sitting you up right before your body could hit the ground.

"I'm fine. It happens." You said to him as worry crossed his features. The others seemed on edge after your presentation of your powers.

"So the surface dwellers wanted your help because of your attachment to Wakanda? You are Wakandan?"

"No, I'm not a wakandan. They saved me and gave me a chance. The least I can do is help them protect what's theirs." You stated with a frown.

"How long have you been able to do that?" He questioned, his curiosity getting the better of him.

"Since I was a little girl. My abilities manifested after the death of my family. Given all the time I had alone I learned how to control it." You told him as he stared, silently urging you to continue. "I've only evolved them since then.”

"You can show people your own memories. What else can you do with your abilities?"

"Je'el u páajtal in kaambal le t'aano' ti' le yaano'ob"

(I can learn the language of others.)

Every pair of eyes were on you now. Full of confusion and amazement. Now you had Namor's full undivided attention.

"Cha' k"

(Leave us)

With that, the others left the area and it was just you and Namor. He took his spot leaning on the wall as you remained silent. Curious to what he was about to ask next.

"Amazing. So you are different from the other surface dwellers. Well you definitely have my attention now."

"I've told you about me. Now it's your turn, your highness." You said crossing your arms and he looked down at the floor before crossing his arms.

"The tale of my people is one I hold dear to me. They once thrived. But slowly they started to succumb to the diseases brought by the conquistadors. Smallpox to be more specific. To survive, they consumed a blue plant found underwater by a shaman as an attempt to help cure their sickness." He started and you looked on as your brain put two and two together.

"My mother who was pregnant with me at the time didn't want to because she didn't know what it would do to me. They talked her into it. Claiming that I would be the first born to their new world if she went through with it. So she did. After sometime they all fell sick. Their skin turned blue, they suddenly couldn't breathe the air. The water was calling them. Welcoming them to their new home. What they didn't know was that the plant had traces of vibranium, changing their anatomy and biology in the process of consumption." He told his story as if he's done so a thousand times. You sat patient as he turned to mess with the beads on his bracelet.

"Soon after my mother gave birth to me. I looked different with my pointed ears and the feathers on my ankles. I became the first born to their new world, destined to become Talokan’s king. As I grew older, my mother began to grow sad as she missed the surface world. She made me promise to bury her in the surface soil when she passed. I kept that promise. We took her to the surface, but what I saw up there made me despise the surface more than ever."

"The violence, the enslavement of those people. It made something snap inside. I killed them. Killed them all. A Spanish man of faith cursed me as he died by my hand. He called me, 'El Niño sin Amor', 'the child without love'. And I took my name from there. Namor. Because I have no love for the surface world. And I want nothing more than to watch it burn." You didn’t say anything to his reasoning. Because at one point in your life, you wanted to burn the world yourself for what happened to your family. Killmonger gave you the chance to do so. While Shuri and T’Challa gave you a chance to be a noble spirit. To go against vengeance. You can see Namor living up to his vengeance and that frightened you. You saw what they could do to people. What could happen to you.

"And murdering the people on the ship? What good does that do?"

"They tried to take what didn't belong to them. We wanted to protect it just like you did."

Taglist: @missdragon-1 @zooni92802 @22carolina08 @bonnapple @arcaerin @bontensbabygirl @simpingfor-wakasa @secretpostts @gardenof-venus @batfam-sitcom @caldodemazapangourmet @naiomiwinchester @moneteguiza @gnkkstarz @aut0matic-supers0nic @historygeekqueen @violet-19999 @euphoricsirens @emberfulclass @pixiest1ckz @randomtumblerusersblog @tired-hungry-angry @aykxz98 @yepimthatperson @hangesbaee @aeilani @juicyj28

#Black Panther 2 #Namor #namor x you #namor x reader #poc reader #reader insert #black panther imagines #wakanda forever #crashing waves fic

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writingintheshadowsforever · 1 year

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Namor Imagine Series Part 4

Your first day in Talokan could've went better. Namor revealed that you would be staying in the underwater cave. Where he initially kept Shuri and Riri prisoner, but the cave had been changed around to make it more homey. He wanted to ease into this new lifestyle and knew asking you to be in the underwater city capital would be too much. So for now you would call the cave system home which wasn't too bad.

It was when he was giving you a tour of the cave system showing you. Where his main space was located things took a turn for the worst. One of the generals walked into the room with a spear in hand. It was the woman you recognized as Namora. She took one look at you and spoke in their mother tongue to Namor.

He gestured for you to wait by the wall with the painting of his history on it. While he went off to the side to talk to his general. Without access to your kimoyo beads or Groi. There was no way for you to understand what their were saying. But the tones of their voices gave the topic of the conservation away. Namora sounded frustrated and would shoot you a menacing look every now and then. Namor sounded like he was doing his best to keep his cool, but you could see the muscles in his back tensing up. He was starting to lose his patience with her. The intense discussion went on for about five minutes before Namor finally snapped.

"She is your queen now you will give her the same respect. You give me" he roared angrily.

You flinched at the not only the volume of his voice, but the emotional intensity of his words as well. The only time you ever heard him sound so angry was when he invaded Wakanda, and while Namora was able to keep a straight face. You could see the hurt in her eyes. She felt betrayed.

Her beloved king who she has served for God knows how long just brought an outsider into her home. A man she trusted with her life just choose you. A woman of another nation that was just their enemy a few days ago over her. You made your way over to them placing a hand on Namor's shoulder.

"Namor can we talk for a quick second?" You asked him.

Namor didn't even bother to acknowledge you his eyes boring into his general's. As he waited for her to look away and back down. You could see Namora know had balled her hands into fists, and was doing her best not to tremble. This wasn't going to end well.

So you tried another tactic hoping it would work. You moved your body between them, and took his face in your hands with a firm grip. "My love I need to speak to you alone." It wasn't a request this time. Maybe it was the fact you used the same name of endearment that he used for you, or maybe it was the sharpness of your voice. Either way this time you got his attention as his eyes glanced down to meet yours. "Send her away please."

Namor gave her a quick command without hesitation. Namora turned and stalked out of the cave. The second she was gone you pulled away from him. "What was that?"

"I will not allow her or anyone else to disrespect you" Namor said. In his eyes did nothing wrong, but in yours he had done everything wrong.

"Namor you might be able to prance around Talokan with me on your hip, and declare that I'm the queen of your people. Without the civilians or the children putting up a fight or questioning things. But your army is a whole other story. There very job is to cautious of outsiders like me especially considering. They helped you lead an attack on my people just a few days ago. It's going to take time for me to win them over." You explained to him.

Namor took in every single one of your words, and gave you a nod. "Then what shall I do?

"Just let it happen naturally like this marriage remember. How you said we can learn to love each other."

"Yes."

"Well Namora and the others will learn to trust me you just have to give it time. I want this to work Namor and be as real as possible."

"I want the same thing" He said.

"Good so you're okay with holding off on the actual marriage part for now?" You asked with a raised eyebrow.

Namor frowned as the gears in his head started turning. "Are you trying to back out?" His voice got dangerously low.

You held eye contact with him not missing a beat when you answered. "No I wouldn't be here if I was going to do that. I will stay here and get to know you, your people, your way of life, and one day I will love Talokan as much as I love Wakanda. One day I will be willing to lay down my life for this place, and that will be the day we marry. I know you just wanted an alliance between our two nations, but you said it could be more. I want that Namor don't you."

Namor regarded you for a few seconds not giving away anything, and honestly he had you worried for a second. That he was going to laugh in your face and set the date of marriage for tomorrow. But then he let out a soft sigh. "It might take power to earn a throne, but the trust of your people is required to rule a nation."

"Is that your way of saying yes" You replied.

"Yes my queen I will give this time" He confirmed.

"Good thing I'm going to need you to do something for me then. While I'm down here earning the trust and love of your people."

His eyebrows furrowed in question as to what else you could want, but nevertheless Namor gestured for you to continue.

You knew he wasn't going to like what you were about to say, but you had to try at least. Your peace of mind depended on it.

"I need you to make peace with my mother."

#mcu imagine #marvel imagine #namor x reader #namor imagine

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radiant-reid · 2 years

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ohmygod cate!! okay so ive been thinking, could u pLEASE do a blurb or a oneshot with an angry love confession? i live for that trope and like imagine the reader puts herself in danger for spencer and then he acts all petty and rude the whole day and then reader is completely done w his shit and then they have an argument and BAM

okay so this is incredibly cliche but i love this concept and UnitChief!Reid

He's not talking to you in the car, and you're terrified about what it means. What he is doing is gripping the wheel tight enough to turn his knuckles white and his jaw clenched in a way that's somehow attractive and scary.

It was hard enough to get on the team, let alone be in law enforcement as a woman, and you get hit with the need to say something and defend your actions. "Spencer, I-"

He doesn't let you get a word in. "No." He cuts you off in his authoritative tone. "Don't even bother trying to justify your actions with a weak apology."

Ouch. You expected him to be harsh, but that was mean. Even though he's your boss, you still consider him a friend.

So you sit in silence. No music and not even the humming of the air conditioning. It's a strategy, you assume, probably why he insisted on only you going with him in the SUV.

You have to shove the feeling of dread in your stomach down when you get to the hotel and out of the car. He still takes your bag out of the trunk with his because he always does, but he's furious, barley looking at you.

You're fucked, truly fucked, and able to do nothing but dwell on your behavior in the elevator.

Instead of handing you your bag at your door and calling it a night so you can go and cry, he walks in behind you like it's his room.

He almost caves when he sees the tears in your eyes because he knew from the day he met you he never wanted to see you crying, but then he remembers the feeling of his stomach dropping in his chest when you ran in there and he's the fear shifts to fury.

"So?" He asks, staring flatly at you.

You don't really have a right to be, but you're mad. "You're ready to let me talk now?"

"Don't be insolent." He demands.

You huff out a dry, insincere laugh as you cross your arms across your chest defensively. "You're not my mom, you can't tell me how to act."

"I am your boss." He reminds you. "And I will not tolerate behavior like that on my team."

"What? You don't want agents that will do the right thing?" You keep pushing the boundary instead of backing down.

He raises his eyebrows like he's unsure if you're serious. "I'd rather agents that listen to my direct instructions."

"Maybe I should transfer then." You offer, although there's no chance you will. You love everything about the BAU, expect Spencer being mad at you.

"Okay. Have the paper on my desk on Monday and you can be gone on Tuesday." He snaps coldly before he can think it through.

You throw your hands up in the air in frustration. "Fine! I will. It's not like you care about what I think."

"Don't start with that." He warns, genuinely hurting you feel like that. But he's not in the mood to talk it out with you, instead, his anger flows out. "You're listened to equally!" You've never heard him yell like that before and it's so unnatural it's uncomfortable.

"Not my take-down ideas." You remind him like he could forget the past hour.

He huffs loudly. "Not when they're stupid and nearly get you killed!"

You seriously do not understand it. You've seen other members of the team do it, and it seems like bullshit that you're being treated like a child.

"Everyone else has done it!" You shout back, blood pumping through your veins.

"I don't love them the way I love you! And I can't even tell you that because I'm your boss! So when you do stupid shit like trying to get yourself blown up, I'm going to be angry!." He reveals before he can stop it, not taking a breath. He cannot have that happen again.

His hand comes to cover his mouth when your eyes widen. Your brain is racing and you're so confused. "Fuck, Y/n, I'm so sorry." He quickly tries to save face, hoping you'll let it slide, even though he's not an idiot and he doesn't believe that. He's already preparing for the meeting with Barnes who will be even more pissed than he was.

Then it's all quiet.

Your heart stops beating in your chest for a second before racing even faster, but with a different emotion. "What?" You ask, voice cracking and so much fainter than before.

He folds, immediately. Seeing you cry feels worse than being scared for your safety. His embarrassment is genuine and he talks. "I shouldn't have said that and I should have yelled at you. I'm sorry for making you uncomfortable." You don't say anything while you process it, but he takes that as his answer. "I'll go."

Before he can slip passed you, you reach out to grab his hand, stopping him before squeezing it. "I love you too." You tell him truthfully.

"You really don't have to say that." He assures you, still in shame of what he did.

"Spencer Reid, I love you." You repeat, catching the smile he knows is too inappropriate to fully show. "And I hate you being mad at me." You're close to tears thinking about just a few minutes ago.

"I hated you being in danger." He admits. "And I'm really sorry for yelling at you."

You shake your head, unable to imagine how horrible you'd feel if he did something similar. "I'm really sorry for doing something dumb."

"Please don't cry." He begs, pulling you into his chest in a hug that you definitely need.

You do cry against his shirt, but they're not sad tears.

"Hey." He says when you pull away after an entire minute of hugging and he cups your cheeks. "I thought I told you not to cry."

"I'm not very good at listening to you, though." You joke, earning a chuckle from him that makes you smile. "Are we good?"

"Yes." He assures you. "But you should get some sleep."

You nod before realizing what that means. "No, stay with me, please."

"It would be my pleasure." He agrees easily, omitting saying, I've been dreaming about it for months.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #spencer reid blurb

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hed-romancer · 2 months

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season 5 episode 3 of camp camp was amazing, actually

okay so i didn't really like season 5 episode 1, and episode 2 while better, was pretty mediocre to me. Nothing funny, nothing that really moved character interactions forward (besides the slip that david is upset gwen isn't a counselor), some stuff that felt out of character (david doesn't seem the type to worry if he's a good counselor or not so much as worry about literally anything else), and some stuff that was supposed to be funny but was actually unfunny and out of character (the campers choosing to try to open the freezer before even letting anyone know about the cave in). It really was just okay, and only that good bc i love anxious!david

episode 3, however, was absolutely wonderful.

on one hand, you have some of the greatest jokes of the series (david switching over to word associations after explaining exactly nothing, the cut back to the boys where david is taking notes on something nurf is saying, nerris immediately thinking someone born in 1985 must be dead now) (though i'm not exactly a fan of the implication that cj is a child predator being played as a joke).

On the other hand, you have honestly one of the best portrayals of what its like being a tween/young teen girl in media.

ered doesn't know what she's doing, and feels unprepared by her two dads to become a woman, so she goes to gwen to ask for advice, who she thinks is a cool adult woman but is also just so happy to be thought of as cool that she's not even sure what she's agreeing to do. ered asks all the questions she hasn't been able to ask, and gwen realizes quickly she doesn't have all the answers, but still fakes it anyway.

nerris goes off and finds the diary of a kid named jessie, and as they read it they feels seen in a way they never have before. they read more and falls in love with jessie, only to realize that jessie was a kid in 1985, and concludes jessie must be dead by now.

nikki ends up at a spa, and tries new "girly" things, that she previously derided, and finds them enjoyable. once she sees the sum of all the ways she's changed herself, she panics, and realizes she's looking like what she used to hate. how can she still be herself if she's enjoying this?

nikki and nerris go running to ered and gwen for advice, and gwen says "goddammit". ered, realizing that gwen doesn't know anything either, takes helping the younger two on her own. she tells nerris that feeling lost and unsure doesn't mean you're alone, that we've all felt that way. she tells nikki that while its okay to question who she is sometimes, she can be whoever she wants to be and the questioning doesn't make her any less herself.

and it's just chef's kiss. nerris getting a first(?) queer love and realizing it's not gonna happen and not knowing how to handle the heartbreak because it's their first time experiencing it. nikki exploring femininity and realizing it can be enjoyable, even if its not what she usually does, just for her own sake. ered realizing older women don't have it figured out either, and even if she doesn't know everything, she's still gonna step up and help the younger two out. i just love it.

it's literally what becoming an older girl/enby is like. trying to figure it out, helping others try to figure it out, realizing those older than you haven't figured it out either.

#camp camp #cc ered #cc nerris #cc nikki #cc gwen #cc david

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toxic-ship-tournament · 1 year

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ROUND 3 / POLL 4

Lucille x Jo (@radioactive-dragonlover) vs Amaro x Calamari (@hottopicabbacchio & @corpsoir)

who makes up your ship?:

Lucille and Jo

why does your ship deserve to be considered the most toxic?:

Lucille is a rich woman who has nothing to do in her life, she's eternally bored and wishes for something new— something fresh to happen. Jo is a quiet woman with some repressed violent tendencies and who works minimum wage bug is struggling to make ends meets. One night, Jo decides to rob Lucille's mansion and kills her without meaning to in the process, escaping the scene anxiously thinking she's going to go to jail once the body is found. However, Lucille wakes up the next day, with the events of the murder burnt into her mind but her body spared of any wounds. Turns out getting killed is EXACTLY the spice in life she was waiting for! So she decided to track down and knock on her murder's door— not to rat her out, but to ask her to do it again. Jo wasn't really for murdering again, especially with how anxious she ended up getting in the aftermath, but begrudgingly accepts. And it seems that Lucille IS actually very fun to kill for her, too. Cue to Jo murdering Lucille on a Weekly basis, getting very Gay about it each time. Lucille get the thrill of death she wanted, and Jo gets an outlet for her violence. A relationship starting as purely transactional at first slowly turns into a murder romance. They're both kinda fucked up in isolation to one another but complete eachother awfully well. Like "you two are perfect for eachother but never pull anyone else into your bullshit" kinda deal. They keep eachother contained. You feel me.

ship tags/playlists/pinterest boards?:

Ship tag on my art blog ( nihonium-art ) : Undying love ( although fair warning for gore ) Playlist : https://spotify.link/TPbt2y12Syb

****

who makes up your ship?:

amaro (he/him, by hottopicabbacchio) calamari (he/they, by corpsoir)

why does your ship deserve to be considered the most toxic?:

Amaro used his stand (make you fall in love) on a lot of people, Calamari came around and he used his stand on them for one night too, but Calamari kept coming back after the effect wore off so Amaro continued to use his stand for a bit being afraid of him leaving/because he thought it would be fun. Eventually, Amaro realized that he had stopped using his stand on Calamari and actually fell in love with them. They have a good 3 year run where they're together and fine and in love UNTIL. one day going on a job for information (mafia business), Amaro is talking/flirting some of the information out of the guy theyre after and Calamari over hears some guys talking about how "Amaro is after another one" and how they had been affected by his stand power before. It gets Calamari thinking if Amaro had used his stand on them before (yes, but only at the beginning) and they start thinking that the whole relationship had been a lie. They get in a big argument - Calamari confronting Amaro while Amaro desperately tried to prove to Calamari he hadn't been using his stand for years - and they end up breaking up. After about a month, Amaro gets worried about not seeing Calamari around and goes to their apartment that he still haa the spare key too and goes inside to find him. Instead, he finds a mess and Calamari eating cold pizza in an empty bathtub alone. Calamari half agrees for Amaro to stay and help them clean, which they assume and know thats the only reason they would have come, and doesnt believe Amaro about their relationship no matter what he tries to say. Over time - a cleaning session maybe once a week or so with Calamari making as little talk to Amaro as possible and Amaro just wanting to make things right again - Calamari suddenly realizes that he might be falling in love with Amaro again and confronts him about using his stand again and tells him to show her to them. Amaro had made a vow to himself to not use his stand around Calamari ever again, but caves and shows Calamari that the swords (where his stand power is) are all still there. Currently, they are working on getting back to how they were before, but there is still Issues and Problems <3 They both want it back but Calamari still cant trust Amaro but Amaro had never been in love with someone like that before

ship tags/playlists/pinterest boards?:

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4AcBeDHX48BYcmdda13KNL?si=fkg9IR4NT5Klw4bUt-0QoQ&utm_source=copy-link playlist by hottopicabbacchio, character tags on both op blogs under amaro avvoltoio and calamari pavone

#lucille x jo #amaro x calamari #radioactive dragonlover #hottopicabbchio #corpsoir #toxic ship tournament

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silvervioletvalentine · 1 year

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❣️!I watch it begin again!❣️

Pairing: Mick Schumacher X Cherrie!

Word count: 6k

Summary: in which on Wednesday in a cafe , she watched it begin again.

It was a miserable Wednesday the day that Cherrie finally walked away from the place that she had once called home for the very first time, she struggled not to break down and cry right in front of the strangers on the street.

Pursing her trembling lips as she fumbled for her phone out of her bag, calling her best friend like she had promised she would the moment it was over.

For the past eight months she had spent everyday telling herself that it would be the last, that she wasn't going to be somebody else's second choice anymore .

But it wasn't that easy and everytime he had took her into his arms and promised her that he would make things right, that she was the one he wanted .. she would cave and give him another chance.

Because love was foolish and love gave you painful hope that time would heal and change things. But some times it never did.

Hearing the man that you had dreamed of marrying, silly , childish dreams of their Rocky and barely there relationship, If she could even call it that, becoming forever . Telling her that she was just 'too immature and too young to understand where he was coming from.' He had argued to her with a straight face when she asked him why he wouldn't tell anyone else that they were together.

She felt so stupid and so fucking dumb for letting herself be dragged along as a body for him to use whenever he was bored .

When work as a big CEO got too much for him , using her as a stress reliever behind closed doors. Before making some excuse to leave the next morning when she pleaded for him to stay , willing to give him every piece of herself just so she didn't have to be alone.

And maybe she was too young and immature to understand . It would explain her naiveness to let a man nearly twice her age string her along like a puppet.

Telling her friends that it was okay, that he just wanted them to be private , that he would tell her he loved her someday. That he would change.

He never did .

And Cherrie wished that she had listened to the warning signs instead of blindly stumbling right past them. Too afraid of being alone to listen to her friends tell her that it was a bad idea, not listening when they told her what kind of man he was.

She had been so desperate for affection that she had mistaken heartless fucking for love. Letting him use her and control her like some pretty barbie doll to amuse him when he had nothing better to do.

Letting him drag her along to galas and work dinners, a smirk on his face as he displayed her beside him like a trophy, Cherrie just smiling and keeping quiet like he had told her to as he told his work friends that she was 'nobody. Just someone to make sure that I get home safe.' Laughing that smug laugh of his as bathed himself in whiskey and ignored her all night . Cherrie driving him home at the end of the night like she had been instructed to do.

She felt sick and so fucking angry at herself as she thought back to how awfully she had let him treat her.

How she had lowered herself for a man that truly didn't give a shit if she was alive or dead.

So Angry at herself that it took her walking in on him fucking his ex girlfriend , who apparently had never been an ex at all, for her to finally pack her bags and leave him behind like she should have so long ago.

She felt like the brainless airhead that people liked to assume she was whenever they saw her pretty face and long legs.

'All beauty and no brains.' He would laugh with his friends as though she couldn't hear them.

And maybe it was true. Because what kind of woman would let a man do this to her for so long? Why had she turned a blind eye to what was right in front of her? He hadn't even tried to hide that he was playing her around . So why had she let him?

Sniffling to herself as her friend finally picked up his phone, his voice changing to concerned the minute he heard her crying.

"What happened?" Lewis immediately demanded to know , the smile dropping from his face as he straightened up in his seat.

Mick looking at him in concern as he watched him frown while clutching onto his phone tightly , the two having been getting lunch Together when she rang him.

Cherrie got into her car, roughly wiping at her eyes as she put him on loudspeaker, dropping her phone onto the passenger seat as she started up her car quickly .

"I left him. I caught him fucking his ex who apparently isn't his ex. He never fucking left her in the first place!" She groaned out in misery, utterly ashamed of herself.

Lewis gritted his teeth, closing his eyes with a wince at the self hatred he heard in her voice. Knowing that she would be blaming herself for this.

"It isn't your fault Cher. I told you he was an asshole. Do you want me to sort him out?" Lewis asked her . Already planning on giving the man a mouthful the next time he saw him.

Cherrie let out a watery laugh at his protectiveness , grateful that he was her friend.

So grateful that she had took the job as his assistant years ago when she was just eighteen, Lewis having seen her crying outside a restaurant after being verbally abused by a customer again. He offered her a job on the spot , taking her underneath his wing and building her up when she doubted herself.

He became like an older brother to her and it hurt him to see her letting herself be treated so terribly by a man that couldn't care less about her.

In his eyes , she deserved the world. She was sweet , caring and the most selfless person he knew. And people unfortunately took advantage of that.

A little like somebody else he knew. He thought to himself with a subtle look towards Mick who looked concerned at his sudden change in voice, giving him a small smile and mouthing 'it's Cherrie.' At him quietly , getting a slow nod in return. Having no idea who she was.

Lewis had tried to get Cherrie to meet mick before and each time she just gave him a look and told him to stop trying to set her up with the other drivers, that she had a boyfriend. That She didn't need anybody else.

'A bad boyfriend. Mick is really nice. Nothing like the asshole you're seeing.' Lewis would immediately counter back to her. Before Sighing in defeat and letting the subject go , not wanting to make her upset .

"No. Because you'll break his face and he's asshole enough to sue you for it." She started to calm down a little .

Just sadness setting in as she realised that she was alone again. Just like she had feared.

She sighed , swallowing. "Where are you? I don't wanna go home . I'll just sit crying all night like a loser." She muttered , just wanting to spend some time with her boss/ best friend and forget about her messy life for a minute .

To pretend that she hasn't been played like a fool by a guy that couldn't even make her orgasm.

Christ. What an idiot she was!

Lewis felt a plan form slowly in his mind, giving another glance towards mick who had gone off to order another hot chocolate for himself, also to give him privacy on his call.

He smiled to himself sneakily "I'm at the Robinson's cafe. You know the one right?" He told her, crossing his fingers and hoping that the universe would let his plan work.

He just wanted Cherrie to be happy.

She hummed, turning her car around in the direction of said cafe .

"Yessss I do. Are you alone? I don't wanna hang out with loads of people.. I look like a mess." She groaned , having had no chance to even change out of her gym clothes after finding out her boyfriend wasn't really her boyfriend at all. She had all but ran away.

Lewis hesitated, hated lying but did it anyways. "Er yeah. Don't worry about what you look like. I'm sat at the back away from others anyways. No one will see you." He told her, smiling up at mick as he slowly returned to the table, a questioning look on his face.

Lewis just gave him a thumbs up and nudged him back into the booth quickly.

They quickly said their goodbyes and Cherrie sped towards the cafe as fast as she legally could. Already craving one of their hot chocolates and something to eat.

Pulling up her car , she got out and made the short walk into the cute little cafe that had quickly become one of her favourites over time.

Lifting her oversized sunglasses ontop of her head so she could see better, walking towards the booth where Lewis said he was.

Only to slow down warily as she spotted somebody else sitting opposite him.

"Lewis.." she muttered with a annoyed sigh as she realised he had lied to her , that he wasn’t alone like he said he was at all.

Her voice Quickly gaining their attention.

Striking blue eyes immediately locking onto her own.

She paused in her step , tucking her messy hair behind her ear and giving the blonde a shy smile, mentally cursing Lewis out for not telling her that he wasn't alone. Letting her stand there in front of mick while looking like a hot mess.

She crossed her arm in front of her chest to cover the toothpaste mark on her old gym shirt that she hasn't bothered to wash off, grimacing to herself .

Mick swallowed, straightening up in his seat as he looked up at Cherrie silently . His lips parting in awe, taken aback by how pretty she was.

Lewis smirked to himself subtly, casually nodding towards the table for her to join.

"You got here quick. You alright?" He said bringing her into a quick hug before not so subtly shoving her into the seat besides mick before she could slide into the booth beside Lewis instead.

Cherrie fell into the leather seat , startled. Narrowing her eyes at her friend , wondering what the hell he was playing at .

Clearing her throat, she played with a napkin on the table so that she had something to fidget with. Having never been the best at meeting new people.

"Yeah. I mean.. I didn't know that you weren't alone. If you're busy I can leave-" she started to say not wanting intrude.

Surprisingly it was mick who quickly shook his head , his cheeks flushing when they both looked at him with raised brows .

Smiling a little shyly at her , "we weren't busy. You don't need to go." He blurted out before he could even stop himself . Trying to ignore the knowing look that Lewis was currently giving him.

Cherrie just laughed a little and slowly relaxed into her seat, still fiddling with the napkin in her hands.

"Okay..." She looked at him quietly before remembering her manners. Trying not to face palm at herself.

"I'm Cherrie. It's nice to meet you. Lewis has told me about you before.." she introduced herself , wondering why her stomach was turning as he gently shook her hand with his own , his eyes never leaving hers.

Mick laughed bashfully "good things?" He hoped. Glancing over at Lewis too.

Lewis just grinned at them "of course. I just told her about us skydiving. She refused to come with me so I had to take you instead." He said , watching the way the two young people in front of him fidgeted and blushed like teenagers . Barely able to hold eye Contact.

Cherrie rolled her eyes at him "I'm not jumping out of a plane. I feel sick just standing at the top of an escalator." She muttered , glancing over at the counter as she wondered what drink she should order.

Mick followed her sight and hesitated for a moment, glancing down at his own drink before gently nudging her arm with his .

Smiling shyly when she glanced at him curiously , nodding towards his drink .

"You can have my hot chocolate if you want. I just got it but ..I've already had one. Don't really fancy it now." He lied . Sliding his drink over to her carefully.

He did want the hot chocolate. That's why he ordered another one.

But.. he had the prettiest girl he had ever seen in his life sitting next to him and he wanted to impress her.

He Wanted her to like him.

Cherrie looked down at the drink in surprise , hesitating briefly as she glanced between the cup and mick unsurely.

"Are you sure? I can just get my self one it's no big deal-"

Mick shook his head quickly , cutting her off with a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Feeling his heart pounding the longer he looked into her pretty eyes.

"No, no. It's okay. Saves wasting it.." he insisted .

Smiling to himself as he watched her hesitate for another moment before giving in and lifting the cup up to her lips, taking a long sip.

Face softening as she let out a quiet sigh, savouring the sweet taste of the hot chocolate. Smiling to herself happily .

It was just what she needed.

Unware of the way mick Couldn't look away from her, until he randomly spoke up again after a minute of comfortable silence.

"I'm mick by the way." He blurted our before grimacing as he realised that she had literally just told him that Lewis had already spoken about him to her before.

She obviously knew who he was.

Lewis hid his amused grin behind his own drink, trying not to laugh as he watched mick's face go red when Cherrie let out a small giggle.

Glancing over at him with a amused smile , feeling her sadness start to dissipate just like that.

"I know. But thanks for introducing yourself." She giggled , unable to look away from the sky's in his eyes . Utterly Mesmerised .

And just like that, Lewis watched it begin again.

'Took a deep breath in the mirror

He didn't like it when I wore high heels

But I do

Turn the lock and put my headphones on

He always said he didn't get this song

But I do, I do'

The first time that Cherrie realised that maybe love didn't have to be full of hurtful comments and judgmental glances was while she was getting ready for another dinner with friends. Lewis having invited her along like he usually did.

Mick was sat on the edge of her bed, watching her get her finishing touches ready. Having offered to drive her to the restaurant with him seeing as he was going too.

Refusing to let her go alone, he had casually told her that 'he would drive her so that she could enjoy the wine that she liked there.' Having noticed the way she always liked to have a glass or two with her food.

The fact that he had noticed something so small about her habits made her heart swell. Having never been allowed to drink with her ex boyfriend , she was always the one that drove him home drunk instead.

She only ever got to have a glass of wine when he was gone. She never got to enjoy it at a restaurant, usually sipping on water the whole night .

She hadn't expected mick to even notice something like that about her.

The two of them had grown closer over the last two months with Lewis making sure that they all regularly hung out together before conveniently leaving them with a pretend phone call. Excusing himself and leaving them two alone together as soon as he possibly could.

He may not have been subtle in his intentions but it worked.

The two of them were already close friends and slowly becoming more as Cherrie spent most of her day texting mick whenever they couldn't hang out in person.

He called her each morning and each night, being the first person she spoke to when she woke up and the last person that she spoke to at night . She had gotten used to seeing his smiling face and pretty eyes.

Mick always making up some excuse to turn up at her door, whether it was with a random bored game for them to play or with a hand full of flowers between his fingers that he had picked from a field because 'he thought she would like them.'

Cherrie cherished the days that they could spend together and each day that passed by she could feel the sadness and self hatred towards herself slowly start to fade away.

Broken Pieces of her heart slowly being sewn together again with each pretty smile he gave her.

She hadn't told him about her ex or about how much he had hurt her. But mick knew the outlines of it, having asked Lewis about him once when he caught her crying while throwing pictures into the trash can once night .

Feeling nothing but anger and sadness for Cherrie when he heard what an asshole she had been dealing with for so long.

He had promised himself to make her realise that she was worth more than cheap sex and quick goodbyes.

Determined to show her in little ways that love didn't have to be something you regretted. Didn't have to be something you wished to forget .

Mick thought that she was amazing. He thought that she was the most beautiful woman in the world.

He was just too shy to tell her so yet.

So instead he hoped that she could read into the little things he did for her, that she could feel his affection through his careful actions , that she could see it in his eyes.

Cherrie held up a pair of high heels in her hands, chewing on the inside of her cheek as she hesitated to put them on even though they were her favourite heels to wear.

Mick frowned at her once he noticed her hesitating to put them on.

"They'll look pretty with the dress you're wearing." He told her, smiling at her in awe as he gazed at the way the material clung to her body, showcasing her Silhouette perfectly .

She looked beautiful.

Cherrie gave a shy laugh, tucking her hair behind her ear as she looked into the mirror at her own reflection.

Biting down on her lower lip anxiously "I know but.. I'm already tall without them. I'll be taller than you if I put them on. You don't want me towering over you.." she sighed sadly about to change into some flats instead.

He never liked it when she wore high heels. Telling her that no man wanted to be shorter than the woman beside him. That he refused to look up at her when they spoke.

She had always wore flats their whole relationship despite how much she had always loved wearing high heels. They had used to make her feel confident and empowered until he shamed her about her height.

Mick frowned at her, confused . Taking the heels from her hands before she could throw them back into her closet.

"So? I don't care." He simply responded back , smiling at her.

“They'll look amazing. Put them on." He told her , a hopeful look in his eyes as he waved the heels at her encouragingly .

Cherrie blinked at him, surprised . "Really? You .. you don't mind that I'll be taller than you?" She couldn't believe it. Slowly sliding the heels on while keeping eye contact with him.

Mick just laughed and shook his head, standing to his feet and standing next to her.

Looking at their reflection in the mirror and grinning at the way she was a few inches taller than him in her heels.

"Not at all. I think it's cool. Plus if anyone bothers us you can just use them as weapon and scare them away for me." He teased her, tugging the strap of her dress back into place gently .

Cherrie felt colour bloom across her face, heart feeling light as she stood beside him in her heels that her ex had never let her wear.

Mick sighed in amazement , pulling away from her to pull his phone out of his pocket, lifting it up in her direction.

"You look amazing. Like a model. You should wear the heels every time we go out. They suit you." He said honestly , biting down on his lip to try and curb his own infatuated smile as she posed for him, letting him take her picture with a shy little giggle.

"Okay.." she breathed out, feeling lighter than she ever had as she walked beside him, side by side.

Mick offering to hold her heels for her at the end of the night as she stumbled out of the restaurant , full of her favourite wine and her heart feeling like sunshine as he beamed at her.

Her heels that her ex had hated dangling between his fingertips as he helped her into his car , kissing her cheek and driving her home without any expectations from her.

He just kissed her cheeks, tucked her into her bed and whispered to her that he was going to sleep on the couch. To come to him if she needed anything.

And he stayed the morning too. She didn’t have to beg for him to stay because he didn't leave.

He stayed.

Her ex used to tell her that he didn't like the music she listened to.

But he wasn't there anymore and Cherrie sat on her couch crossed legged with Mick sitting behind her, encasing her body with his bent knees as he leant his chin on her shoulder and looked down at the playlist on her phone.

One of her AirPods in his ears as she played him her favourite music. Quietly looking at him from the corner of her eye to see his reaction.

Expecting him to laugh and tell her that her taste in music wasn't something he enjoyed. To turn it off and do something else. Like he did.

But mick just smiled and nodding his head along to the David bowie song that was playing.

"That's from the labyrinth soundtrack right?" Was all he mused as he wrapped his arms loosely around her waist from behind, pressing the side of their cheeks together as they listened to the music together.

Cherrie glanced at him in surprise , as the world falls down playing in their headphones clearly.

Smiling at him happily, stomach filling with butterflies.

"Yeah! It's my favourite album. I like listen to them all when I haven't got time to watch the movie. My mom used to sing it to me when I sick to get me asleep.. I just love it.. I can turn it off if it's not your thing.." she hurried to assure him ,not wanting him to be stuck listening to her music if he didn't like it.

Her ex used to scoff and tell her to 'get this rubbish off' whenever he caught her listening to it. He refused to watch the film with her too.

But Mick just smiled and kissed her cheek, snuggling into her with a sigh of content.

"No . I love it. You love it so I do too." He murmured to her , closing his eyes in bliss as he listened to Bowie’s voice in his ear. Quietly singing along.

I'll paint you mornings of gold

I'll spin you Valentine evenings though we're strangers 'til now

We're choosing the path

Between the stars

I'll leave my love

Between the stars

Missing the way Cherrie swallowed thickly . Her smile softening into something warm and full of hope as she couldn't look away from him, a giddy laugh escaping her when he whispered to her with a hopeful smirk.

"You wanna watch the labyrinth in bed?" He offered.

And just like that Cherrie fell in love.

Walked in expecting you'd be late

But you got here early and you stand and wave

I walk to you

You pull my chair out and help me in

And you don't know how nice that is

But I do

Her ex used to be on his phone whenever she arrived to the table. Barely even glancing up at her as he impatiently muttered for her to sit down and order something.

He would spend their date talking about himself while she sat pretty and smiled. Barely saying a thing.

But as Cherrie walked into the restaurant, the minute mick spotted her walking towards the table, he jumped up from his seat with a giant smile lighting up his face.

Waving at her happily , running a hand over the back of her head affectionately once she was close enough.

Leaning down to give her a kiss. "You look beautiful." He breathed out in awe as he pulled out the chair for her without looking away from her eyes.

Cherrie glanced down at the chair and smiled, slowly sliding into her seat. Heart fluttering in her chest as he tucked her into the table , making sure that she was comfortable before taking his own seat again.

He didn't waste a second in taking her hand, squeezing the palm of her hand three times with a gentle smile on his face .

"I missed you." He told her unashamedly , sliding over a glass of her favourite wine.

Smiling bashfully as she glanced down at the plate of pasta in front of them.

"I hope you don't mind but I already ordered your favourite . I know you'd be hungry after running after Lewis all day.." he giggled , grinning at her like a lovesick fool.

Cherrie just smiled and shook her head in awe, taking a bite of the pasta and sighing in disbelief.

"You always know the right thing to do and say mick." She murmured To him. Still in shock that someone could care so much about her.

Used to a rolling of the eyes and her ex snapping at her to hurry up and finish her food so they could leave. He never ordered her favourite food. He only ever let her get a salad.

Cherrie didn't even think that he knew what her favourite food was . It was always about him.

But Mick knew. Of course he did. Because he wasn’t him.

Mick just smiled and kissed her knuckles gently , looking across the table at her like she was his whole world.

"That's because I love you. I don't have to try or pretend about anything. I just want to make you happy." He told her honestly .

His face full of bashful shyness despite the fact that just the night before he had his head between her thighs and his tongue down her throat all night .

But it was looking at her from across a candle lit table that had him blushing like a lovesick fool, unable to get used to how beautiful she was.

And now she was all his to admire and love. Mick couldn't believe how lucky he was to be given the chance to make her feel what true love was like.

Cherrie tried not cry. Squeezing his hand and lifting his fingers to her lips, kissing his fingertips gently and smiling at him in adoration.

"I am happy. You make me happy." She said and for the first time in a long time she truly meant it.

And you throw your head back laughing

Like a little kid

I think it's strange that you think I'm funny, 'cause

He never did

I've been spending the last eight months

Thinking all love ever does

Is break and burn, and end

But on a Wednesday in a cafe

I watched it begin again

It was in a run down diner than Cherrie realised that mick was the one.

With a large plate of French fries between them, and one equally as large milkshake with two straws being passed between them frequently .

She giggled to herself making mick glance over at her with a curious raise of his brow.

Smiling simply because she was.

He chuckled in confusion, watching the way she seemed to be about to say something only to close her mouth and shake her head to herself .

"What? What were you gonna say?" He wanted to know. He wanted to hear every thought she had, no matter how silly it was.

Cherrie flushed , shyly glancing up at him as she chewed on fry.

Laughing when mick picked one up and threw it at her face, managing to catch it in her mouth making his eyes widen , clapping loudly.

"Talent." He joked , wiggling his eyebrows at her. Only to laugh when he threw another fry and she missed it with her mouth. It bouncing off her cheek and back onto the table instead.

They both giggled like little kids.

Mick quickly nudging her foot underneath the table , not letting her get away with it.

"No come on! Tell me! You were gonna say something . I saw the look on your face!" He wouldn't let it go. Looking at her patiently , still grinning at her fondly .

Cherrie hesitated before looking down at the plate of fries , cringing to herself at how lame she was gonna sound.

Her ex had always told her that her jokes weren't very funny and that she was better sticking to laughing than she was joking.

But mick... she glanced up at his Soft eyes and pretty smile and sighed .

Mick wasn't him.

So she stopped being afraid of embarrassing herself and giggled, resting her cheek in her hand as she nodded to the plate between them.

"Did you know that the first French fries weren't actually cooked in france?" She grinned , barely able to speak through her own childish laughter.

Mick jokingly rolled his eyes, grinning at her widely.

"Oh god! Here we go.." he tilted his head , eyes never leaving her own. A expectant look on his face.

Cherrie smiled "they were cooked in Greece."

She could only watch with love in her heart as Mick threw his head back in laughter , laughing like a little kid.

His cheeks flushing red in humour as he struggled to stop giggling, nudging her foot with his own and shaking his head at her fondly .

"You're so funny baby. Was that from that little book I got you ?" He laughed referencing the children's joke book that he had bought her in a random brick a brack shop.

Having spent the whole night passing jokes back and forth to each other in bed, a bottle of wine between them as they cuddled up in a pile of laughter , kissing her between each joke. Marking the pages of their favourite ones so far .

Cherrie nodded her head with a giggle, the weights lifting from her shoulders as she saw the pure love written across his face for her.

And just like, the bad memories of her ex were replaced with new , beautiful ones with mick.

Mick. Who liked her in high heels. Who loved her favourite songs. Who watched her favourite movies. Who laughed loudly at her silly jokes .

Who always reached for her in a crowded room. Who knew her favourite food and happily picked her up from a drunken brunch with her friends.

Mick. Who wasn't ashamed to love her. Who bought her joke books and only drank her favourite wine.

"I love you." She told him honestly.

No one else coming to mind anymore when she thought of the word 'love.' Mick's face was the only one that came to mind.

And she felt nothing but love as she watched it begin again.

#mick Schumacher imagine #mick chumacher fic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 oneshot #formula one imagine #formula 1 imagine

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