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xanasaurusrex · 4 months

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comforting clarisse after breaking her spear

clarisse la rue x reader (any godly parent) a/n: i promise this was supposed to be a drabble but i got carried away (:

clarisse was stomping through the camp after capture the flag. everyone was practically jumping out of her way, no one wanting to face her very clear wrath.

by now, everyone knew what had happened right before the blue team won capture the flag. percy, the new kid, and clarisse had been in a pretty heated fight. the ares kids that usually followed clarisse around had backed off, realizing that the fight was a little bit more heated than they anticipated.

percy and clarisse both had a hold on the spear, and when clarisse threw him over her shoulder, the spear had snapped in two.

nobody had seen clarisse this angry in a really long time.

clarisse knew that she hadn't been this angry in a long time. honestly, she couldn't remember the last time she had wanted to rip the world apart half as much as she did right now.

clarisse had spent enough time being forced into therapy by her mother to know that being this angry wasn't good. she was determined, even in her rage-induced haze, to not approach percy jackson right now, because she would only make things worse. yes, she hated the kid more than anything right now, and yes, if the opportunity arose, she would twist his arms right off his body, but again, that would only make things worse.

there was only one person right now who clarisse knew could calm her down enough so that she wouldn't go on a killing spree.

y/n.

clarisse didn't know exactly where she was, but she had a pretty good idea. if y/n wasn't there already, she would be soon.

clarisse completely bypassed all of the cabins and headed straight for the woods. a few people looked at her in curiosity, but a quick sneer from clarisse got them to mind their own business.

the second clarisse had passed the initial wall of trees into the woods, she took a second to take a deep breath of the pine-scented air. just taking a break from practically stomping through the camp, she felt a lot of the tension in her body relaxed. she was here, she was away from the prying eyes and nosiness of the other campers, and most importantly, she was away from percy jackson.

that was a big step in the right direction.

she looked up and to her right, and caught sight of the first tree. it had a circle carved into it. she walked past it, and a few feet later saw another tree with a circle carved into it.

she followed the trail of circle-carved trees into a clearing that she'd found during her first summer here at camp.

originally, clarisse never planned on sharing this area with anyone. it was only hers. it was her safe place from the world, from all the stresses and anxieties that plagued her day and night, an escape from camp.

the clearing was mostly used as her calm down spot, where she came when she was so angry all she could see was red.

like right now.

but then she met y/n, and at the end of their first summer together, clarisse took her here, and showed it to her. and so now, whenever they needed to, they met up here. to just... be for a few hours.

together.

when clarisse finally pushed past the tall grass that was closing off the clearing, and she stepped foot on the grass that clarisse cut every once in a while, she finally caught sight of y/n.

just seeing her made everything feel as if it was going to be okay.

clarisse felt her muscles relax completely, and all the angry thoughts were quieted as thoughts of her girlfriend climbed into her mind, took root there, and made themselves comfortable.

clarisse was okay with that, because thinking about y/n was much more pleasant than thinking about that punk percy jackson.

clarisse stood there for a few more seconds, admiring y/n. the way the sun shone on her hair. the rings that glittered on her finger, every single one of them gifted to her by clarisse. seeing y/n wear them always made her happy, made her feel like she could climb a mountain and barely break a sweat.

she was sure that she had never loved anyone as much as she loved y/n.

it was at that moment that y/n turned around. at first, there was a slight look of alarm on her face, but it calmed as soon as she realized it was clarisse.

"clarisse," y/n murmured, and just that one utterance of her name felt like a siren's song for clarisse, immediately drawing her to her.

y/n was sitting on one of the large boulders in the clearing, a thin blanket already spread out over the surface of it so she could safely sit on the rock without burning her legs.

y/n stood up, and walked towards clarisse. clarisse took a step closer to her, and then they were right in front of each other, faces just a few inches apart.

"hi," clarisse muttered.

"hi," y/n smiled.

the two looked at each other for a few more seconds, before y/n opened her arms, and clarisse immediately fell into them. clarisse's face buried itself in y/n's neck, and y/n didn't hesitate to start stroking clarisse's hair in the way that she knew she loved. the way her mother had always done when she would get overwhelmed as a kid.

clarisse let out a heavy breath, one that y/n suspected she had been holding for quite some time.

"do you wanna talk about it?" y/n asked quietly.

clarisse shook her head harshly, and then hugged her arms tighter around y/n's waist. "not yet."

"okay." y/n responded.

the two stood there hugging for a few minutes, clarisse's tight hold on y/n never wavering. clarisse's breathing was labored and heavy, and y/n knew it was because she was holding back tears.

clarisse was the kind of person who didn't like to cry. even though y/n knew that there were probably tears glistening in her eyes, clarisse was going to refuse to let them fall, because clarisse was determined to be as tough as possible.

y/n couldn't even begin to imagine the pain clarisse was feeling right now. her spear, the one gift clarisse had from her father, was now snapped in half and unusable. that spear had been clarisse's prized possession, the thing she regarded with utmost love and care, and never allowed anybody but her touch.

there had been one time that clarisse had allowed y/n to hold it for a few minutes, but even then clarisse was anxious at the idea of not being in complete control of it, even for a small amount of time.

y/n had heard clarisse's scream as her and the rest of red team chased after luke with the flag. she had been so close, ever so close, and had run even faster when she heard the scream clarisse let out.

when she stumbled onto the beach and saw the snapped spear, she immediately knew what happened.

y/n didn't stay to find out what happened after that, she just saw the way clarisse stomped off in anger, and she immediately rushed away to get to the clearing, knowing that clarisse would need to be calmed down.

and now the two of you were here, standing in the middle of your clearing, holding each other.

finally, after a long time of just standing there in an embrace, clarisse whispers, "that was the only thing i ever got from my dad,"

y/n pulled away to look at clarisse, and felt the small patch of wetness that clarisse had left behind on her shoulder. "i know, honey," she whispered. she took hold of clarisse's hand and pulled her towards the boulder that she had been sitting on previously.

once the two were sitting, y/n directed clarisse to lay her head in her lap. she began stroking her hair again, and occasionally stroking her cheek.

"i'm so sorry this happened," y/n whispered in clarisse's ear. "i love you,"

"i love you too," clarisse whispered back.

clarisse closed her eyes, wanting to block out the visuals of the world, and focus only on the way y/n's hand felt when it was stroking her hair and her cheek, and the comfort she felt whenever she was in y/n's presence.

she loved this. she loved that she had a person who she knew she was safe with, safe to tell anything to.

clarisse was sure that she had never loved anyone as much as she loved y/n.

#percy jackson #clarisse la rue #clarisse larue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse larue x reader #clarisse fluff #xanasaurusrex #guys i'm literally in love with clarisse #expect sm more clarisse content this is just the beginning

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vinvantae · 23 days

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𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐀𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮

Jenson button x childhood sweetheart!reader

Summary: The not so wordless agreement that you and Jenson would someday end up together is thrown into turmoil when he’s invited to your proposal party

Word count: 4.4k

Warnings: none

The snow fell across the fields like a blanket, tucking each blade of grass in for a dream-filled night’s sleep - it would usually be quiet this time of night, but the air was filled with the laughter of the children and teenagers alike who had begged their parents to take their sleds out and venture down the icy slopes. You yourself had been one of them, rapping your fists against the red wood of your neighbour’s door, rocking back and forth on your heels as you waited not so patiently for it to swing open.

“Hi John!” You grinned. “Can Jense come out? I know it’s late but we haven’t had snow like this in years and-”

John smiled and stepped aside, revealing Jenson sat at the bottom of their stairs - shoving his feet into his welly boots. “Looks like someone had the same idea as you, son.”

Jenson looked up from the black rubber of his boots to see his best friend - the tip of your nose and cheeks tinged pink, the pearly whites of your teeth lit up in a big grin. He matched it with a smile of his own, giving his Dad a quick hug before joining you out in the snow, taking your sled from you to carry over his own shoulder. You were wrapped in a big yellow coat, a hand-knitted scarf and a pair of gloves that looked a touch too big for your teenage hands - your boots already covered in a soft layer of snow from the small trek to get Jenson.

“Don’t go too far, and be back by midnight!” John called out. “I’m sure your Mum told you the same, young lady.”

“Yes, boss!” You laughed, arm locked tightly around Jenson's so as not to slip on the icy ground. Your best friend smiled down at you - leaning into you to share your warmth.

Jenson listened to you yap away about all the different things you could make out of snow that would be endlessly better than a snowman. He let his arm drop from yours, moving to loop around your waist so he could haul you in closer - using the cold as an excuse. You gestured towards the moving crowds up ahead.

“The big hill just by the forest is where everyone is, it’s got the best spot for sledging.”

Jenson hummed softly, and you looked up at him. “Yes, but I don’t want to go sledding with everyone. I want to go sledding with you.”

Your nose wrinkled up in a playful disgust, earning a playful shove - a squeak leaving your lips as you nearly slipped on the icy tarmac beneath your feet, but you knew Jenson would never let you fall. His surprisingly strong arm stayed around your middle - holding you close to him. As you looked at him once again, your cheeks warmed - his blue eyes twinkling with mischief.

“You’ve gotta stop looking at me like that, you know what happened last time.” You grumbled, jabbing his waist - breaking eye contact.

Jenson raised a teasing brow. “And who said that would be the worst thing?”

“Jenson.” You hissed quietly, not missing the girls who watched the two of you walking in the opposite direction to the rest of the town. You were well aware of the jealousy that sprung from your friendship with him - you’d been in his life since you were infants, but as the two of you had grown up - Jenson had quickly become established as one of the most handsome boys in school. “Don’t say another word.”

“You know I don’t care what they think.” He grumbled. “I don’t want them…”

You looked up at him, the mischief in his eyes had since faded - replaced with a warm tenderness that you knew he had reserved for you. “Jense…”

“I know, I know.” His sigh was wistful. “I’d give it all up for you, you know that.”

You took his face in your gloved hands, brushing your thumb across his cheeks. “I would never. Racing is your dream, and we’re only kids. You’d hate me in the future for stopping you from chasing your dreams.”

He watched your gaze flutter across his face, trying to get a read on how he felt - but in his silence you spoke again.

“Hey, if you've gone and got all those big racing dreams of yours… and you still want me…”

Jenson’s hand came to rest on top of yours, gently removing it from his face so he could lace your fingers together. “I’ll always want you.”

You laughed, although there was little humour in it. “Jense, we’re only 16. When you’re an adult you may feel different, especially when you’ve got all these beautiful women throwing themselves at you once you’ve won a race…. I would be over the moon if you still wanted me but I’m not going to be disappointed if your feelings change.”

He gave you a sad smile. “…I’ll always want you.”

His forehead came to rest against yours, skin surprisingly warm despite the freezing temperatures. You went to protest again but his lips captured yours in a sweet kiss, you allowed yourself to indulge in a moment of weakness - letting your arms slide around his neck to keep him close.

Letting him go was the right thing to do, being hung up on a girl he knew back home was only going to hold him back. He deserved the right to explore and be free whilst he travelled the world, you’d never ask him to give that up.

Oh, but he wished you had.

He wished you had when he was invited back home after a race season nearly 12 years later by your mother, insisting he had to be at this party. Neither of you were 16 anymore - he was 28 years old, had just come 18th in the championship and felt absolutely miserable. But you? You seemed to be absolutely thriving.

Job of your dreams, beautiful home… and William. Fucking William.

The two of you had been together for almost 3 years now, he was some hot-shot CEO of his own company - money coming out of his ass, private jets, cars. And you knew he spoiled the shit out of you, every time you came to a race to support Jenson - William had insisted on paying for you to have the best experience, despite Jenson offering to do the whole lot for free.

And when he pulled up to the address your mother had given him, he thought his jaw was going to fall through the floor. Sure, he’d seen mansions in his time - but this was a whole different level.

It had a fucking maze in the garden for crying out loud. With a fountain in the middle? Who did this guy think he was? He reluctantly gave his car keys over to the valet, before following others inside - all of a sudden feeling drastically underdressed in his sports coat. He was more than grateful for the champagne that was offered to him as he desperately sought out someone, anyone he knew.

The two of you had grown up together, he thought you had the same friends but he couldn’t recognise a single face. Despite the two of you staying in near constant contact, he suddenly felt like he really didn’t know you at all. The girl he knew would scoff at all this, one of your favourite activities when you came to races past - before William - was making fun of all of the rich people, flaunting their wealth but now you were one of them.

He stepped out onto the back patio, eyes finally landing on your parents - chatting away without a care in the world, your father adorned with a watch and a diamond necklace draped across your mothers neck that he knew they couldn’t afford.

“Jenson! You made it!” Your Mum’s face lit up at the sight of him - she stepped away from the other couple she was with to wrap him up in a tight hug. “Oh she’s going to be so happy you’re here.”

“Have you seen her? I don’t feel like I know anyone here.” He chuckled awkwardly, giving your Dad a hug as well.

“Oh I’m sure she’s just making some finishing adjustments, we need her to look perfect.” She grinned.

Jenson frowned. “What’s the occasion?”

Your mum gasped. “Oh, I was sure William would have told you!”

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “William and I aren’t exactly best mates. I think he only tolerates me because I’ve been around for so long.”

Jenson didn’t miss the look your parents exchanged before your Mum placed a gentle hand on his forearm, giving him a sorry smile. “William is proposing to her, love.”

In that moment, he could’ve sworn his heart stopped - he didn’t know you and William were so serious. He always thought that he was just a distraction until the two of you were both in a place where you were ready to commit. It had almost happened when he got 3rd place back in 2004, but you were so close to a big promotion and you wanted to focus on that. You always wanted to be able to give the other your full 100%, be in a place in life where you were secure - maybe he should’ve just said fuck it and let himself be selfish.

He wasn’t mad at you for dating William, he could never be. But were you really about to marry him? The garden went quiet for a moment, so he looked over his shoulder.

You slowly walked down the stairs into the garden - a long dress in a deep blue hugging your figure, long sleeves to protect you from the cooler weather - a slit in the side allowed you to walk elegantly, your hand still resting against the cold stone of the railing. Jenson wasn’t sure he’d ever seen you with such professional looking makeup, nails to match your dress too. Beneath the jealousy, he felt the urge to tease you - wind you up for becoming one of the posh people you’d always claimed to loathe.

But you looked nervous as you started greeting everyone - eyes flickering around the party, you looked beautiful too, of course, but he recognised the look on your face - he’d only seen it a few times through your life but this was probably the worst he’d seen it. Fear. Did you know what was happening…? And who were you looking for?

William practically led you around the party, his hand never straying from the small of your back - which Jenson could now see was nearly exposed from the low back of your dress, adding to the elegance of your look. Jenson considered going over, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Instead, he loitered around your parents - not really letting himself join in on the conversation either, just keeping a watchful eye on you.

But that didn’t last too long either, the clinking of a champagne glass and microphone feedback filled the garden.

“Evening all, thank you all for joining us.” William had led you to the middle of the patio, his hand still on the small of your back.

“I’m sure she’s loving being the centre of attention like this.” He mumbled, earning a gentle elbow to the side from your mother. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

“Oh, shush. You had your chance.” She snipped at him.

He went to protest but instead shook his head and turned back to the scene in front of him - you were fiddling with the tips of your fingers, trying to avoid eye contact with the onlooking crowd but still glancing up as if you were looking for someone. Is she looking for me?

“As you know, I’ve been lucky to spend the last 3 years with this wonderful woman at my side.” William spoke with a confidence that demanded attention, Jenson wanted to tear his eyes away but he just couldn’t. “She came into my life at just the right time, and I can’t wait to see where the rest of our time together takes us… so…”

Your whole body froze as William sank to one knee, fishing a small velvet box from his suit pocket. “William…”

Jenson wasn’t sure if anyone else heard the tone of your voice like him, or if he’d just made it up - but it sounded like a warning.

“Would you make me the happiest man alive, and do the honour of being my wife? Will you marry me?”

You risked looking at the crowd one final time, and when your eyes finally met the blue you’d been searching for - you practically felt the tension melt away. Jenson tilted his head a little, raising his brow - you didn’t miss the way the corner of his mouth tugged up into a teasing smirk and you had to bite your lip to stop yourself from returning it. You didn’t miss the way your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him, how in that moment you wanted nothing more than to rush across the garden and have him wrap you up in his arms.

“…well?”

“Oh.” You suddenly remembered the man currently on one knee in front of you. You tore your gaze away from Jenson to look down at him, a sorry smile on your face. “…I’m… I’m really flattered, Will, I am. Uhm, maybe we can talk about this in private?”

The silence of the crowd was replaced with whispers, although he stood behind him - Jenson could see William’s entire body stiffen and his ears turn a dark pink with embarrassment. “…yeah, uh… yeah okay.”

William passed the microphone to someone before walking off, leaving you standing alone - you mumbled apologies to everyone before doing your best to catch up with him, holding the bottom of your dress so as not to trip over your heels. Jenson finally felt like he could breathe again; whilst everyone else was upset and shocked by the scandal before them - he felt relieved, you did still want him.

“…maybe inviting you was a bad idea.”

Jenson looked to your mother, who was still staring straight ahead. “You can’t tell me you didn’t know that there was a chance she’d say no. This was her choice… this has nothing to do with me.”

She shot him a look. “I saw her face when she realised you were here, Jenson. You had your chance with her, why can’t you let her move on?”

“I’ve not had my chance with her… don’t you see that? I’ve been waiting until I can give her the life she deserves and-“

“She doesn’t need to wait, William can give her that.”

Jenson scoffed. “This isn’t the life she wants… I know William wants her to quit her job and play the pretty little housewife but that’s not who she is. You know that, I know that. And proposing to her in front of all these people? Most of whom I’m not convinced she’d even met before today? Her worst nightmare.”

“Jenson.”

“You didn’t have to invite me… but you did.” He stood his ground. “If you wanted this to happen then you should’ve kept me in the dark, but you know deep down, just as well as I do, that William isn’t the one for her. I love your daughter, more than he ever could.”

Before she could speak again, your father placed a hand on her shoulder - bringing her attention to him. “What’s done is done. It’s her choice at the end of the day… and she didn’t say no, they might be working it out as we speak.”

Your mother rolled her eyes. “Yes honey, because that’s how all happy marriages start - with an argument.”

As the two of them bickered back and forth, Jenson decided to make himself scarce and track you down - weaving through the crowds who were still speaking in hushed tones. Poor William. What was she thinking? How embarrassing.

He ignored them, pushing his way inside - listening out for the two of you and seemingly you hadn’t gone far. A nearby door slightly ajar, a raised voice coming from inside.

“This is so embarrassing! All of my friends are here!”

“And almost none of mine, William.” Your voice was a lot more level, calm. Jenson lent against the wall just outside of the room. “Why did you not invite any of my friends?”

“These are our friends.” He huffed, Jenson could hear him pacing back and forth. “God, I just wanted today to be special - I got your parents here, fuck, I even got your mother to invite Jenson and you know how I feel about that prick.”

“Hey.” You snapped. “Keep his name out of your mouth.”

William went deadly quiet, it was scary. Jenson was close to peeking around the corner to see what was happening, but then William spoke again.

“It’s him isn’t it? It’s always going to be him.”

Your sigh spoke a thousand words, and this time Jenson did risk looking into the room - just to see the look on your face at your boyfriend’s accusation. You didn’t look sad, you didn’t look angry… you had a look of acceptance. You stepped closer to him, placing a gentle hand on his bicep.

“I’m sorry, I never meant to hurt you…” Your voice was soft, practically laced with honey. “I love you, William… but Jenson…”

Jenson waited with bated breath to hear your next words - you’d told him before how you felt about him, but this was different. You didn’t know he was there - you had no reason to be gentle with your choice of words. He turned back away from the room, head rolled back against the wall - he allowed his eyes to close.

“He makes me not want to sleep because being with him makes reality better than my dreams… Home is wherever he is.” Your voice was practically a whisper, as if you knew your words would sting if they were any louder. “I just don’t think I could love anyone in the same way as I love him. I… I was selfish with you.”

“I was selfish too.” He admitted, his hand coming up to cup your jaw - thumb brushing across your cheek. “I should’ve just let you be with him. I always knew where your heart truly was…”

“William, this isn’t your fault. Please, don’t blame yourself for this… all of this is on me.”

“I should go. I love you.”

“I love you too.” You whispered. “I’m sorry, you deserve better.”

Jenson froze as he heard the sounds of shoes tapping against the floor, there was no way he could get away without being spotted - so he just accepted his fate, he took a deep breath. The footsteps paused in front of him and he opened his eyes to meet the sorrowful gaze of William. “Treat her well, yeah?”

“I promise. I’m sorry it ended like this, man.” He forced a smile. “Best of luck to you?”

William held his hand out and Jenson shook it, pressing his lips into a line. “You too mate. Sorry for keeping her from you all these years.”

With a gentle pat on Jenson’s shoulder, William left to go sate the crowds - leaving your childhood friend alone in the corridor. He took one deep inhale before stepping into the room - your back was to him, as you looked out the tall window, presumably to watch your ex(?) boyfriend subdue all of his friends.

“Just me and you, under the cover of night… in the forest on that cute mossy stone bridge across the river. The one you like to throw pebbles in.”

You looked over your shoulder with a coy smile. “Sorry?”

“That’s how I’m gonna do it.” He shrugged, stepping up behind you - strong hands coming to settle on your hips, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. “Nothing fancy like all this.”

He relished in the way your cheeks flushed. “That sounds wonderful, Jense… I can’t wait.”

“Not much longer, I promise.” He whispered, this time kissing just behind your ear. “I’d propose to you right now if we weren’t literally at your engagement party.”

You laughed, turning in his arms. “Tomorrow then?”

He couldn’t help the smile on his face. “Tomorrow it is.”

***

Your feet crunched against the snowy ground, nose and cheeks tinged pink as you made the walk from your flat to Jenson’s house - the roads were too icy to drive and you’d always loved the snow, so walking was the easy choice. You smiled softly as you walked through your old neighbourhood, kids laughing and throwing snowballs, parents peeking through the curtains to watch on.

It didn’t surprise you that Jenson had spent some of his earnings to buy a small home here - it was one of his favourite places in the world, yours too. You rapped your gloved hands against the door, rocking back and forth on your heels as you waited.

As soon as it opened, you were wrapped up in Jenson’s arms - a kiss placed on your cold forehead before he stepped out to join you, locking the door behind him. “Can’t believe it’s snowing.”

“I know, especially since it was so sunny yesterday.” You hummed, looping your arm around his. “Where are we going?”

He gave you a soft smile. “Do you not remember the plans we made yesterday?”

“O-oh.” You giggled. “Yeah, yeah I remember.”

“Good.” Jenson pressed a soft kiss to your temple. “Then let’s go.”

“Wait.” You stopped him walking to take his face in your hands, pressing a kiss to his lips. “I love you.”

“I love you.” His voice was practically a whisper. “We don’t have to do this today… you literally just broke up with William.”

You tilted your head, giving him a sweet smile - brushing your thumbs across his cheeks. “I want this. I want you.”

His grin was almost bright enough to melt the snow around you, he took your hand in his and the two of you began the journey - careful to avoid any icy patches, holding each other close for balance. Jenson took the time to give you a full catch up of his next season, Honda had pulled out due to financial issues so Ross Brawn had bought the team and they were starting from what felt like nothing - a big risk, they weren’t… well anything. But he had faith, he had to. After coming 18th, what did he have to lose?

You had nothing but adoration for him in his career, no matter where he ended up - you felt foolish for letting each other put your career ahead of your relationship. You knew you were capable of getting your career goals with Jenson by your side, but you always feared he’d have resented you if you’d somehow got in the way of him getting the wins he deserved.

But as you stepped into the forest, the frozen stream sparkling beneath the bridge - none of your worries seemed to matter anymore. Jenson took both of your hands in his and carefully led you onto the bridge, careful not to slip as he walked backwards. “Your trousers will get wet if you kneel, Jense.”

“Worth it.” He grinned. “I know this isn’t a surprise, but you got to promise to let me get through what I have to say, okay?”

“Promise.” You hummed, taking a deep breath, giving his hands a squeeze.

You bit your lip as he got on his knees, keeping his gloved hands wrapped around yours. “Where do I even start?”

“Might be a bit long if you start at the beginning.” You teased.

“Hey, what did I say?” He hushed, narrowing his eyes playfully at you. “Okay… honestly, I don’t think there’s any words that could truly describe just how much I love you, but I’m going to try my best.”

He almost couldn’t get the words out with the way you were looking at him - a gentle sparkle in your eyes as you held back the tears, the softest of smiles on your lips. He took a deep breath.

“You’re my best friend, my soulmate… I literally cannot remember a life before you and I don’t ever want to picture my life without you. I wish I could specify the exact moment in time I knew you were the person I wanted to spend the rest of time with, but it was gradual, all consuming. You’re my first thought when I wake up, my last thought before I fall asleep and you fill all of my best dreams.”

He let go of your hands to remove his gloves and yours from your left hand. “I don’t care that my career isn’t where I want it to be. My biggest regret is simply that I didn’t do this sooner… I want us to achieve our dreams together. I want us to grow and change together.”

The tears were freely rolling down your cheeks and as he pulled a small black box out of his coat pocket, you felt like you couldn’t breathe. How you felt in this moment was polar opposite to how you had felt when it was William on one knee in front of you - you felt safe, loved… Jenson was all you’d ever wanted.

“So, my love, I’m sorry I’m not the first man to ask you this… but I hope to be the last.” He opened up the box, a beautiful ring inside. “Will you marry me?”

You nodded faster than you ever had. “Yes, oh my god, yes.”

Jenson grinned, and you let him slide the ring onto your finger - and you took a moment to admire it, recognising it as his Grandmother’s, a ring that had been promised to you by her when you were no older than 8 and now it was really on your finger. You looked to your fiancé, who was now standing with an expectant look on his face.

“You gonna kiss me or what?” You purred, running your hands up his chest.

“Don’t have to ask me twice, baby.”

He only gave himself a moment to grin before kissing you with a new vigour - when you brought your hands up to hold his face again, he could feel the press of your ring against his skin and it made his heart race. He pulled back just enough to nudge his nose against yours.

“I told you before and I’ll tell you until the end of time… I’ll always want you.”

───※ ·❆· ※───

Hope you enjoyed!

This is really a birthday present for myself cus I’m fully in my Jenson era but I hope you all like it ♥️

#jenson button x reader #jenson button x you #f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #x reader

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macfrog · 9 months

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mile high sex on fire chapter three

we're going overseas baby! (this is gonna be a three-parter cause i hyperfixated and couldn't stop myself so BUCKLE UP) author's note: i absolutely do NOT condone the use of private jets. they are GROSS and terrible for the environment and just fucking fly commerical ok? but in this ceo!joel ficland, private jets are fuelled by delusion and emit only clean, pure oxygen. thank you for reading. now, with that in mind, please enjoy reader being railed in a plane cabin. i love u all to paris n back 🤍🥐

pairing: ceo!joel x fem!reader

summary: you accompany joel on a work trip to paris, to eat good food, drink expensive wine, and…get to know each other a little better

warnings: 18+ (minors dni!!!) environmental crime, plane sex, fingering, handjob, unprotected piv sex, daddy kink, joel being a fucking exhibitionist menace, creampie, more gf representation, showering together, softdom!joel, sugardaddy!joel, heavy on the flirting, age gap (reader is late 20s, joel late 40s), cursing, very ridiculous spending on very ridiculous things, workplace relationship and therefore odd power dynamic yadda yadda yadda

word count: 6.3k

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist

Joel’s fingers squeeze your hips, his pace quickens even more. “Louder.” “They’re gonna – ah – they’re gonna hear.” “Who?” Joel asks. He knows damn well who. You’re only separated by a thin paneled wall. You’d be fucking surprised if the flight attendants haven’t been hearing you for the last twenty minutes. “Baby,” Joel’s voice coos as he bends forward, sweaty chest flat against your back. His lips line with your ear, his breath hot on your skin. “They get paid not to hear.”

You’ve never been on a work trip with Joel. Usually, he likes to take them alone. Martha told you once about a time a couple years before you started when Joel took an intern to a conference in Canada, and the kid spent the entire first night in the hotel bar, missed the conference the next day, and only just made the flight home, scruff of his neck between Joel’s knuckles.

He racked up a bill of nearly a thousand dollars just on liqueur and finger food. Joel had sworn he’d never take anybody anywhere with him again.

But there’s this client over in Europe he’s due to meet – an annual thing where they sit on the terrace of some luxurious hotel, drink expensive wine that tastes like piss, according to Joel, and have a cock-off over their money and status.

Sounds like fun, right?

You’ve a pretty good idea why he asked you. And he made a pretty convincing pitch: he’d promised you a relaxing weekend. You didn’t have to sit in on any meetings, he’d let you amble around the city by day, take you for a fancy dinner or two at night. All expenses paid. You barely had to lift a finger.

As per the deal, Martha organized the travel documents. Printed them, collated them, handed them to you in a neat little folder with a paperclip on top and a Post-It note with Have fun! written in red ink. You’d slipped it into your bag and followed Joel to his car, nodding to Rand as you ducked under the starlit ceiling.

Joel’s left hand sits around your thigh – because where else would it be? – his right clutching his phone, thumb scrolling as he absentmindedly reads some document. You’re watching the city soar by from behind tinted glass. Before long, it’s the dark green of trees flickering by, and then, canvased by the clear blue sky, an air traffic control tower in the distance.

The Rolls saunters past the main entrance to the airport. You watch it roll by, leaning forward in your seat.

“Wait, what…?”

“What, baby?” Joel asks, looking up from his phone.

You usually knew every fine detail of the plan by heart. It was your job to. But with Martha being in charge of arranging your flight, you’d missed one crucial speck of information this time. And that is –

You’re travelling by private fucking jet.

The car drives across smooth tarmac toward a pointed white plane, bold against the brilliant blue sky behind it. There are four people standing at the bottom of the steps leading into it; what you assume are the two pilots, and two smartly dressed flight attendants.

“How did I never know you had a…?”

Joel smirks. “Never showed you it. C’mon.”

He gets out, strolls around to your door and opens it for you. You’re still gawking at the jet.

“Jeez…” you whisper, hopping out of the car.

“What is it?” he says through a chuckle, leading you across the tarmac.

“I feel so…Everyone looks so…I’m in my fucking sweatpants, Joel.”

He looks at you under low brows, like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. Like he doesn’t want to hear one more word of it. He holds an arm out; his pinkie bumps into your tummy.

“I think you look beautiful, darlin’.”

It might’ve stopped you in your tracks. Might’ve crumbled the entire airport to dust. Might’ve made the sun drop out of the sky. You’re not sure. You wouldn’t notice if you dropped dead right now.

His words, his soft voice when he says them, send a pang of white noise through your ears, echoing around and bouncing off the walls of your head.

You swallow. Digest what he just said. And do your best to forget all about it.

Joel takes your hand and leads you to the plane steps, helping you up. He follows at your heels. “Thanks, Jerry, Lisa,” he says. You give both pilots a nervous smile as you pass.

The airconditioned cabin chills your arms when you reach the top, twisting around to look back to Joel.

“Go on.” Joel nods, palm ushering you inside.

You step forward and turn right, standing in the doorway to a pristine, white-walled, wooden interior cabin, leather seats dotted against the walls, dark brown glassy tables between them, soft gray carpet at your feet, vacuum cleaner lines still visible. There’s a long plush couch on the left wall, today’s newspaper on the side table next to it.

You feel Joel’s body shell around yours, his chin dips against your ear.

“Like it?”

“Not really. Feelin’ pretty guilty about all the air pollution.”

“How many trees you want me to plant to make up for it?”

You tut. “What are you doin’ in business? You’re so funny.”

You wander off without looking back, heading for one of the window seats.

“Uh,” Joel clears his throat, “there’s a separate cabin up back, too, if you want it.”

“Separate cabin?”

He nods. “’s got a bed. It’s cozy.”

A bed. Of course this asshole has a fucking bed in his private jet.

The pilots file in behind him, dipping into the cockpit. The flight attendants follow, and begin preparing for takeoff. Joel strolls over to the seat opposite yours, giving your legs a nudge under the varnished table when he sits down.

You both click your seatbelts into place, relax, and look out the window as the jet rolls by the airport, heading for the runway. The engine fires up properly, a deep hum you feel rattling up your spine, and then you’re pulled forward, body pushing heavily into the soft leather of your seat.

The plane races down the runway, the grass and trees blurring into a mix of dark and light green, before you’re lifting off the tarmac and into the air, your tummy flipping a little from excitement and maybe some nerves, and…Joel’s gaze on you.

When your eyes meet his, he scans down. Your little black t-shirt, skin tight. The way your breasts rise and fall with your breathing. Down to the waist of your sweatpants, then further down your legs. You know exactly what’s going through his mind.

And, honestly…being on a private jet on your way to a free weekend in Paris, accompanied by the best sex you’ve ever had…? Goes against a couple of your core beliefs about the world, but you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t on your mind, too.

The flight attendants let you guys know you can unbuckle your belts now, and, like a hive mind, you both unclip them and stand.

“Was gonna go check out that, uh–”

“I’ll show you to it,” Joel cuts in, taking your bag and leading you down the aircraft. He dips his head as he walks, the cabin too small for him to stand straight. You follow like a fucking dog, trying to hide the spring in your step.

Through a door concealed to look like part of the wall is a small room with a double bed, soft white sheets untouched. There’s a little TV on the wall opposite, a small table with another comfy chair by one of the windows, and a rail for hanging up clothes. The shades over the windows are pulled almost all the way down, sunlight splintering through and lining the soft carpet.

Joel wasn’t wrong. It is cozy.

He sets your bag down on the floor and closes the door behind you. You notice he locks it.

The corners of your lips tug, your eyebrows raise. “Might be classier than my bedroom.”

He scoffs, and you turn, falling back onto the bed and kicking your shoes off.

“Alright,” you announce, flat-out on the sheets, “I’m gonna get some shut-eye.”

Joel looks surprised. Almost – offended. “Sh…You’re gonna sleep?”

“’s why you got a bed, ain’t it?”

He narrows his eyes, runs his tongue along the bottom of his teeth. Steps forward. Sticks a knee between yours. “Not exactly.”

You smile up at him. He’s pulling the jacket from his shoulders, plain white tee underneath. He looks so fucking good. The man always looks so fucking good. He tosses the jacket to the floor and bends down over you. Hands pressing deep into the bed either side of your head, torso hovering over yours. Hips just too far away for you to lift yours up to meet them.

You take hold of his wrists. “Then…show me what it’s for.”

Joel looks from your lips to your chest, then back up to your eyes, grinning like a devil. He lifts one hand and his fingers come down to play with the drawstring of your sweatpants, tugging painfully slow on them. You want to whine, but that’d be letting him win too easily.

He loosens the waist and his fingers find the hem of your tee tucked beneath.

“You gonna show me those pretty tits, baby?”

You nod, biting your lip as he peels your top from your body, your back arching, arms splaying out on the bed. Joel uncovers your chest and slips the top over your head, discarding it to the side and leaning back to take the view in.

You didn’t wear a bra today. Wanted to travel in as much comfort as possible.

One of your wiser choices.

“Fuck, darlin’…” he breathes, eyes set on your perky tits, your round, hardened nipples. His reaction sends a fleet of electricity down to your core.

“C’mere,” you whisper, taking his shirt in your fists and dragging him down against your naked torso. And then his hips are there, right against yours, and you grind up into him, feeling his bulging crotch between your legs.

Your fingers dance along the hem of his shirt and he lifts off of you, letting you tug it over his head before his chest is pressed back against yours. You part your lips and he fills your mouth with his tongue, hands in your hair, body grinding against your own. He’s pushing you further up the mattress until you’re both in the center, disturbing the sheets and shifting the cushions decorating the bed.

Joel’s hand trails down your naked stomach and under your pants, cutting past the lace of your underwear to cup your mound, middle finger daring ever lower. You moan and drag your hips forward to edge his fingers further, until they’re dipping between your folds and your body’s rolling with pleasure.

“Yeah,” Joel murmurs, “that’s it, huh? That’s what you want?”

“Uhuh,” you nod, bottom lip between your teeth, eyelashes batting in a plea for him to keep going. Keep fucking going.

His mouth dips between your jaw and your shoulder, teeth picking up your hot skin to suck a bruise while two fingers push inside of you, lifting your back from the mattress and into Joel’s rock-solid body. Some noise escapes his lips, something caught between a laugh and a groan.

“So tight, baby,” he murmurs, drawing a smile across your face.

And then your hands are messing around at his waistband, fingers fumbling with the button. Wanting him in your hands as much as he has you around his own. Needing to feel what you’re doing to him, since he’s well aware of what he’s done to you.

Joel’s hand slips gently out from under your pants and his weight lifts off of you. In the slivers of light streaming through the cabin windows, his silhouette steps back off the bed and shoves the denim down his thighs. His jeans hit the floor and as quick as he left you, he’s back pressing into you again, hard outline of his length nudging against the top of your thigh.

You slip a hand under the elastic of his underwear and take hold of his cock, while he picks up where he left off between your legs. Your lips connect, breathing laughs and pants and desperate moans into each other, hands working to push each other closer and closer…

Joel’s fingers pump in and out, curling just enough to hit your G-spot every time. His thumb’s bumping at your clit, pushing waves of pleasure with each circle. He adds a third finger when you start to gasp, the movement of your fist around his shaft becoming messy and staggered. You’re trying to focus on him, trying to get him there as fast as he’s getting you, but he’s so fucking good at it, and you’re starting to fade out of the cabin.

Your eyes roll shut; head falls back against the bed. You’re still trying to fucking jack him off, as if he’d even let himself cum in your hands before he’s been inside you. But you’re desperately trying not to give him the satisfaction of having you unfold on his hand less than ten minutes into this. Desperately trying not to give in to him and his stupid private jet.

“It’s okay, baby,” Joel whispers in your ear, pressing a delicate kiss to your hair, “you can cum. Do it for me.”

“F-uck you,” you whisper, and you cave.

Let’s put it down to the air pressure when you’re this high up. In fact, let’s just say: you’re on a plane, and you’ve never had anything remotely close to sex on a plane before, and that’s why, when your orgasm bursts through, you cum harder than you think you’ve ever done before. It’s because of how fucking insane this is.

Let’s just say.

You come to with your face buried in the crook of Joel’s neck. His chest is vibrating, Adam’s apple bobbing. You pull back and notice the dimples in his swollen cheeks, the crow’s feet by his eyes, and then…the wide smile spread across his lips.

“That feel good, darlin’?” he asks through a laugh.

You curse at him again, eyes screwing shut. His hand’s still between your legs, slowly moving in and out, lulling you through the tail end of your orgasm. Your hands have deserted their original job; they’re clutching Joel’s shoulders. You don’t even remember grabbing onto him.

“Got somethin’ that’ll make you feel even better,” he breathes, and before you’re fully awake, his hands are on your hips, flipping you over. He drags your pants down your legs, discarding them to the floor beside his.

You sigh when he pulls your ass up into the air, resting your ear on your folded arms. Accepting defeat, or maybe just…letting him do what he does best.

Joel slips your panties to the side and runs his cock up and down your dripping cunt. You flinch, still sensitive, and feel him slow down.

“Gonna make you feel real good, alright?”

“Mhm,” you reply, eyes closing again as he lines up.

It sounds like a bit of a dumb thing to say. Joel makes you feel good every time his hands are on you, without question. Even that first night, in that dive bar, before he’d ever really done anything. His hands sent electricity through your body that you failed all weekend to rid yourself of. But you hear what he’s really saying.

You haven’t had each other yet without someone on the other side of the wall, waiting for one of you. It’s always been a rush, always been about that race to the finish line just to satisfy your needs, and then return to Earth as soon as you’re done.

There’s no need to rush to that finish line this time around. Nobody’s waiting. Joel can do whatever he wants, can fuck you however he likes, and have you under his hand for as long as he wants. As long as you both last.

The bed makes sense now, doesn’t it?

He pushes inside you, thick, hard, full. You gasp, face burying into the comforter, legs spreading to accommodate his size. Your fingers grasp onto the sheets, nails digging into the soft fabric as he fills you up, pulls halfway out, and rocks back in.

“Fuck, Joel,” you cry, and his hips slam into yours.

“Huh?” he asks.

“Daddy,” you correct yourself, still gasping.

“Better.”

Joel pounds into you, strong grip on your waist, pulling you up and down his cock at a punishing pace. His grunts match your whines. Your hand stretches out to grab something – anything – to hold onto, to steady yourself as your body begins to collapse.

“Daddy,” you mewl again, muffled by the cotton of the sheets, like it’s the only word coming to mind. “So – fuckin’ – good.”

“Louder, baby,” he replies, groaning when you tighten around him.

You whimper. “F-fuck, daddy.”

Joel’s fingers squeeze your hips, his pace quickens even more. “Louder.”

“They’re gonna – ah – they’re gonna hear.”

“Who?” Joel asks.

He knows damn well who. You’re only separated by a thin paneled wall. You’d be fucking surprised if the flight attendants haven’t been hearing you for the last twenty minutes.

“Baby,” Joel’s voice coos as he bends forward, sweaty chest flat against your back. His lips line with your ear, his breath hot on your skin. “They get paid not to hear.”

His hips crack into yours again once, and then halt. You cry out, the sudden feeling of him in his entirety, filling you up, pushing right up against your cervix, too much to bear. Too much to be muffled by the mattress beneath you.

“Let – them,” Joel’s hips drag back, slow, leaving you empty, “hear – you.”

He thrusts forward again, painfully, and you moan. Loud. “Ah, daddy,” you cry out again, and you swear Joel’s chest rumbles behind you with a laugh.

“That’s it, good girl. Tell ‘em how good it feels.”

You feel your mind start to slip, the cabin going with it. Your eyes roll closed, your mouth falls open. The only sound escaping your lips a whine, over and over, shaped just like the word daddy, daddy, daddy.

Joel’s forehead rests on the crown of yours, his voice a soft hum at the nape of your neck.

“See? Sound way too pretty to keep quiet, darlin’.”

He’s panting, words spilling out of his mouth between gasps and grunts. Hips are snapping at a grueling pace. You reach for his wrists again, planted in the bed either side of your head, and squeeze as if it might relieve the building tension in the pit of your stomach.

But he’s going so fast, so hard, fucking you dumb. And you can feel him start to falter, when your walls hold him snug, tightening around him as you reach your high.

He cums when you do. You feel him empty inside you as you hurtle through your own orgasm, rippling bliss all around your body. You both cry out, filling the tiny room with groans of pleasure and release together.

Your hips give, fall flat to the mattress, Joel still inside, slowly rocking back and forth, pushing his cum deeper and deeper inside you.

His elbows sink into the bed at your shoulders, caging you under his body as the remnants of your highs wash away. He’s running soft, wet kisses from your neck down the top of your spine. When your body stills, the pulsing of your cunt a mere flutter, he slips out from between your legs and pushes up off of your body.

Joel collapses alongside you atop the tangle of sheets and pillows, skin sticking, bodies thrumming with energy. You roll over to lie next to him. Chests rising and falling in unison, fingers intertwining at your sides. You’re staring at the ceiling, head tilting to rest on Joel’s shoulder, and he places a soft kiss to your hair.

You glance up to look into his brown eyes, lit by the thin rays of bursting sunlight seeping through the windows. The way the light moves across him as the plane turns, brilliant rays sweeping over the horizon and reflecting every angle of his face.

When he notices you, he dips his chin, and you prop yourself up, pressing your lips to his. Joel holds your jaw softly, thumb grazing over your cheekbone. His other hand scoops around your back, holding your body close to his.

“Sleepy,” you mutter, and he nods.

“Get some rest,” he tells you, but you’re already laying your head down on his chest.

Your heavy eyes blink the jet out of view; Joel’s hand stroking your hair sends you off to sleep.

----------

You wake under the white sheets, still wrapped up in Joel’s arms, to the sound of voices on the TV. Some comedy movie. Sounds like Adam Sandler. Joel mutes it when he notices you stirring.

“Afternoon,” he mutters, voice husky.

“Hi,” you reply softly, and his hand runs through your hair. “How long was I out?”

“Only a little while. They’re probably getting ready for lunch. You want me to head out first?”

You nod, suddenly feeling ashamed…and hungry. “Yeah. ‘n can you…make sure they don’t ask?”

“They ain’t gonna ask,” he groans, laughing as you roll off his body and let him up.

You watch as he dresses himself, toned arms pulling his tee over broad shoulders; tan legs slipping back into neat jeans. He slings his jacket over his arm and bends back down over you to let you kiss him again – slow, deep. Something of a thanks, a you’re welcome, maybe. A marker, anyway. A prelude to this weekend.

And then he slips out front. You lock the door behind him and start collecting your clothes, hopping around the cabin as you pull them on.

Before you leave, you grab a hoodie from your bag, feeling a little more exposed than you did when you first boarded. You toss it over your shoulders and open the door.

“Couple more hours,” Joel tells you as you sit opposite him, propping your ankles on his lap. His hands run over your socks, brows furrowing when he notices the pattern. “Bart Simpson?”

“Comfiest socks I own. Good plane socks.”

“Alright.”

“Go on. Make fun of ‘em.”

“I didn’t say anything. You want somethin’ to eat?”

You smirk. “Sure.”

He pours you a glass of water from the metal jug on the table between you both, and one of the attendants appears as if by magic on your right.

“Got you gluten free stuff,” Joel says as you gulp at the ice water.

You almost choke. “Seriously?”

His face twists, confused. Mirroring your astonishment. “Yeah. You think I’d let you starve?”

You almost laugh before you hear it, and realize how sweet it is. You didn’t even know Joel noticed this stuff. Didn’t think it’d be on his radar.

“Thank you,” you whisper, lifting your glass to mask the blush burning across your cheeks.

Joel nods once. Then turns to the attendant and asks for a burger, side of fries, side of onion rings. “We got sweet potato fries, Len?” he asks.

“Think so,” Len replies. “Want them instead? Or both?”

Joel thinks it over for probably two seconds, before he shrugs and says, “Both. Thanks, man.”

Len turns to you, but you’re still staring at Joel. “Unbelievable,” you mutter.

Joel holds his hands out. “I’m hungry.”

You give Len a smile. “What’s…What can I have?”

“We got gluten free flour, bread, pasta, uh…garlic bread for sides, too. And a couple desserts.”

“What the f…?” You stare at Joel. “You didn’t have to–”

“Just order, baby,” Joel says, palm facing you, stopping you from going on.

“I’ll, uh…You do fried chicken?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I’ll have fried chicken, side of fries, and coleslaw, if you have it, please.”

Len nods curtly and heads back up front, leaving you and Joel on your own again. You finish your thought.

“What the fuck?”

He’s chuckling. “What?”

“You…This is…Nothing, you just…you blow my mind, every time.”

Joel shrugs, grinning. “Blow your back out, ‘n all.”

“Alright.” You snatch your ankles from his grasp – Bart’s toothy smirk slipping from between Joel’s fingers – and sit up straight, looking out of the window to the dazzling sky; bright blue on top and fluffy white clouds beneath.

Your food arrives shortly after and the pair of you eat in comfortable silence. Joel checks through his emails, you sit back in your seat with your headphones in. It’s nice, not having a phone to answer or Joel’s schedule to fix. Nicer, still, having him feet away from you, giving you all the attention you could possibly want at the drop of a hat.

You land in Paris at 10PM local time. Straight off the plane and into another sleek, black car, driven by a gray-haired, sharp-suited man named Denis whose hand Joel shakes before climbing in beside you. He slides into the leather seat and you fall against one another, your head on his shoulder. Partition wound up, though neither of you feel much like doing anything that’d require privacy. Your eyes are tired, heavy, you smell like eight hours’ worth of plane, and you’re basically salivating at the thought of collapsing into a huge, soft, clean bed.

Which is exactly what the pair of you do when you reach the hotel. You’re in some extravagant suite picked by Joel; you manage two glances around the dark place before he’s leading you by hand off to the bedroom, cases still parked at the front door.

And before you know it, you’re sinking into the plush sheets of a king-size bed, limbs entangled with Joel’s, city lights twinkling through the window into your sleep-glazed eyes as you drift off.

----------

Day breaks across Paris around seven in the morning. You wake with the blue glow of the sky, dusty pink on the horizon bleeding upward as the sun rises higher. When your eyes open and adjust to the light, you glance over Joel’s still sleeping body and notice the view behind him, split in half by the silhouette of the Eiffel Tower.

The curtains are still pulled back – neither of you noticed nor had the energy to shut them when you arrived. You’re both still in your clothes from yesterday, too. Joel managed to kick off his shoes, and you remember him pulling yours off before he fell into the bed next to you. You didn’t even sleep under the bedsheets.

You push yourself up off the bed, stretching your back and glancing around. This room is fucking nuts. Gold accented – gold handles, gold light switches, gold frames. Pretentious modern art decorating each wall, an upholstered headboard that almost touches the ceiling in front of you. Marble-topped nightstands with spotless silver lamps, glinting in the light.

You roll off of the bed, Bart Simpson socks landing on soft carpet, though his face has been awkwardly twisted around your ankle in your sleep. You shuffle off to a door on the left, leading down a small hallway – past some fancy ornate vase – to the living room: a wide, open space with the same floor-to-ceiling windows as the bedroom, looking out to the same view.

Two velvet couches sit opposite one another, a white marble coffee table sat between. Behind them, a dining table with eight chairs. Gleaming varnished wood. And then, through a couple more doors, a kitchenette with modern white cabinets, a coffee machine, a microwave.

Fucking. Nuts.

You hear Joel stirring in the bedroom and wander back through, dazed with sleep and amazement at this place. He’s rubbing his eyes when you walk in and spring down on top of him on the bed.

“Mornin’,” he grumbles, voice thick and husky. His hands fall onto your thighs, sat either side of his waist, and his eyes flutter open. “You’re energetic.”

“Have you fucking seen this place?”

“I have. Stay here every year.”

You press further into him, feeling a swell in his jeans and doing your best to ignore it.

“Can we go explore?”

“Outside?”

You nod eagerly, despite the way his face screws up.

“Baby,” he sighs, “I’m still in my damn jeans.”

“So, go shower. Get dressed.”

He’s not done protesting. “We travelled for, like, nine hours straight yesterday.”

“’n now we’re here and we ain’t here long, so let’s go do something. C’mon.”

You lace your fingers through Joel’s and pull him up toward you, sitting in his lap on the bed. He buries his face in your chest, mumbling something incoherent into the cotton of your shirt.

You giggle. “Huh? Can’t hear you.”

Joel pulls back with a sigh and rolls his eyes dramatically. “Alright,” he says, “go get ready.”

You leap off of him with a quiet squeal of glee.

As you pace around the suite, dragging your case into the bedroom, fishing some clean clothes and your toothbrush out, practically skipping into the marble-tiled shower room, Joel lays back in bed watching your every move. Smiling, eyebrows lifting with encouragement anytime you look over to him. Head resting back in the crook of his arm, sleepy eyes taking in all of your excitement.

You’re rinsing shampoo out of your hair when he slides into the shower behind you, a quick kiss to your shoulder.

“No sex,” you tell him with a pointed finger, squeezing the lemon scented gel into the palm of your hand.

“No, ma’am,” he says with a smirk, dipping his head to let you lather up the suds in his salt and pepper hair. “So, where we goin’?”

You shrug. “Wherever. Lots to do in Paris.”

“Wanna get you somethin’ nice,” he says, eyes screwed shut as he runs his head under the flow of water, “a thanks for comin’ with me.”

“I think maybe the private jet, the hotel room, plus the free trip in itself is thanks enough, Joel.”

But Joel disagrees. Heartily, apparently.

He takes your hand and helps you out of the car on a tree-lined street, tall cream buildings on either side. It looks like a movie set. You’re following Joel’s lead, spending more time craning your neck to look up at the huge, ornate windows guarded by black balconettes while he guides you across cobblestone toward the smoothly paved sidewalk.

You’re not even paying attention to where he’s taking you until you’re stood in the middle of a glistening store, plush rug under your feet, lavish chairs in the center of the room, a rainbow of fashion surrounding you.

“What…? No, Joel.”

“Hm?” he asks, eyes scanning the room. He takes a step, and you tug on his arm.

“I can’t fucking afford Gucci,” you whisper, pulling his body back against yours.

He hands you a bemused smile, eyebrows low, corners of his lips pulled. “All expenses paid, baby.”

Your arm falls limp and he drags you through the store, past mannequins in patterned gowns and silk shirts, past shelves of obnoxiously huge purses and accessories gleaming in the spotlights from above.

Your fingers stay locked around Joel’s hand, your head swiveling so much you worry it might fall off, looking from the vibrant floral wallpaper down to the spotless tiled floor, glancing politely at attendants and then dipping your head and wandering by them behind Joel.

“See anything?” he asks, turning to you at the opposite end of the store.

It’s ridiculous. This entire trip…is ridiculous, and you’ve only been here twelve hours. Following around at Joel’s heels like a puppy, watching as he clicks his fingers – no, before he even gets the chance to click his fingers – and everything and anything either of you could dream up just…happens. Right in front of you.

He won’t let up. You know him. If you tried to pull him back outside onto the street, he’d buy you something for the hell of it.

You know him. So, you decide to use that to your advantage.

“Gucci…I dunno…” you muse, squinting at him.

“Not your thing?” he asks, and he seems curious, but – you know him. You know that behind that polite mask is a smirk thick enough to make your knees wobble. He knows what you’re doing. “Where to, angel?”

You lead him out of the store. Feel his shadow behind you, watching as you thank the doorman and take a left around the corner, passing under the shade of the gently rustling trees. Arm in arm, you arrive before a huge archway, pristine windows surrounding the door to…

“Dolce & Gabbana…” Joel looks up at the stone writing atop the arch. “Alright. Classy girl.”

You giggle, pulling him past the wrought-iron fence and inside.

It’s sleeker, moodier. Less in your face. Suits you a bit better, though you can’t quite swallow back the guilt that sticks in your throat as you saunter around, Joel right behind you. It catches you when an assistant touches your arm, snapping you out of your daze, and asks if you need anything.

“No, thank you,” you reply, mirroring her smile. “Thank you.”

She nods and floats off.

Joel’s frame shells around yours, dipping his jaw to lean against your shoulder. “What about that one?” His eyes flit up to a mannequin just past a lit table of purses.

“The black one?”

“Mhm.”

“You like that?”

He repeats, a little more exaggerated: “Mhm.”

You shrug. “I do look good in black.”

“Look better in nothin’.” Joel steps forward and takes the tag between two delicate fingers, deliberately hiding it from you. He turns back, lifts his eyebrows in question. “Buy you it if you promise to wear it tonight.”

You smile. This man knows how to barter. And you take no convincing at all.

“Alright,” you accept, “deal.”

----------

Three hours later, you’re strolling down another cobbled street with an ice cream in your hand. And not much else, by the way. Joel’s taken all the shopping bags back to the hotel. He slapped your hand away when you tried to lift one of them from his clutches.

The wind sifts gently through your hair, cooling your face and neck, toying with the hem of the oversized shirt you’re wearing. It flutters the French flags overhead, red, white and blue blowing in the breeze. Cars roll by, engines humming as they weave in and out between one another, horns calling out in the distance.

Joel hadn’t let you come up to the counter to pay with him, had insisted you stay right where you were standing, and when he finished up and laced his fingers through yours, it was like a surge of energy had shot through him.

He led you out of the store and into another, and another, and another…until his hands were wrapped around, what, six bags? All carrying different components of your outfit for tonight.

And then he’d noticed the time – unlocked his phone with a curse under his breath, and kissed your temple. Midday. He was meeting Jean-Marc in an hour.

“You wanna come back with me? Chill at the hotel?” he’d asked, dialing his chauffeur’s number.

“I’m good,” you said, smiling sweetly as he squeezed your shoulder. Then, he pulled his wallet from his back pocket and handed you his card.

“’case you see anything else you want.”

“Joel,” you protested, but he’d shut you up by clicking his teeth and walking off, leaving you to follow after him, shamelessly beaming.

He’d apologized another three times before Denis had pulled up, then once more as he loaded the trunk with your bags.

“See you later. Enjoy your meeting,” you teased, laughing at the way his face twisted into a grimace as the car rolled off.

It’d been a pretty nice afternoon. You’d dipped into a couple more stores – though, without Joel to impress, the low-cut dresses and short miniskirts were somewhat less exciting.

That is, until you passed by a lingerie store. You stood outside for a second, peering by your reflection in the window to study what lay behind. Suddenly lace and satin – and the idea of Joel seeing you in them – seemed a lot more enticing.

You’d pieced together an entire getup: bra, panties, garter belt, even a pair of stockings, and a silk robe to go over the top. You handed over Joel’s card, ignoring the way your cheeks began to heat and focusing instead on how smug you felt, and skipped out of the store, bag in hand.

You’d called Denis five minutes ago to ask for a ride back to the hotel. He called you Madame, he said Nonono every time you apologized for bothering him again, and he promised he’d be there in less than ten minutes.

You pace back and forth along the curb, waiting for the shiny black Maybach to pull up. You’ve checked your phone, like, five times already, kinda hoping there’ll be a text from Joel. You swing the bag between your fingers.

A door swings open behind you, giggles filter out into the street, and you turn to see a couple bounding out of a jewelers, hand in hand. She flicks her left wrist up, tilts it in the sun. It’s hard to ignore the light bouncing off of her ring finger. You feel nauseous at the sight.

Suddenly the Parisian street dissolves, and what sweeps over in replacement is a long, empty lawn, maple trees swaying menacingly in the distance. There’s a blur of bright blue sky, sunrays bursting across your vision. Your hand comes up to shield your eyes, and there he is. There he was.

He was on the grass. You told him to stand up; his suit trousers would be stained green. He did it anyway. Trembling hands, expectant stare. You stuttered and stammered your way through a sentence fueled by shock and horror and…resentment.

And then you did it anyway, too.

The crackle of tires coming to a stop on the road in front drags your fraught gaze from the couple, now strutting off down the avenue. You reach for the door handle, but Denis is already out of the car and leaning down, hand on your back as you duck into the backseat.

----------

taglist: @nobodycanseeinsidemysoul @@isimpforfictionalmen @lizzie-cakes @sarahhxx03 @tobuildahomeinthewoods @whatsliferightnow @regalwhovianbrowncoat774 @casa-boiardi @earthtogrogu @sexygaypalpatine @cool-iguana @serenaxpedro @brittmb115 @pattwtf @pascalpvnk @jediknightjana @mrsquill @uncassettodiricordi @gracieispunk @hellishjoel

(lmk if i’ve missed you out & check my taglist info for how to be added!)

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clockwayswrites · 4 months

Text

A Broken Sort or Normal, Epilogue

WC:1383, Masterpost

Danny glances up from his fight to fit the cufflink into the sleeve of his rich blue suit and smiles at what he sees in the mirror.

“You know, it’s supposed to be bad luck to see the bride before the wedding.”

Wally grins, easily, from where he leans against the door frame. “I’m the one in white so I think I’m the bride, in this case.”

“Oh, so putting the bad luck all on me?” Danny asks as he turns to appreciate how his fiancée looks. Wally really is stunning in his white on white tux. Danny hadn’t been able to stomach the idea of traditional black and white tuxes, not with Phantom still being such a raw wound. Wally hadn’t minded in the least going with a brighter color palette.

“Never,” Wally promises. “We’ll face whatever comes together.”

It’s a vow that Danny unquestionably trusts. Since the curse broke, Wally has been there for every step of it— and Danny has needed a lot of help with steps. Danny’s weakened core not only handicapped him as a ghost but as a living. Many days Danny is able to pass through it all relatively unaffected, other than the cold ache that has settled into his bones, but other days are harder. Other days Danny walks with canes braced against his arms. Other days Danny needs his wheelchair. Other days he can hardly get out of bed unless he goes ghost. And through it all Wally has done everything that he can to make things easy for Danny.

They have a house now, one story and carefully renovated so that on the days Danny needs the wheelchair he can still move around easily. There are electric blankets and soft pillows and this ridiculous massive bean bag that’s big enough for them to both sink into on the bad days.

And there are good days too. There are days where the aches are just a background note, days it all doesn't hurt so much, days where he can fly. Oh how Danny had missed flying. Of all the things that came with being a halfa, flying is what Danny had missed most– not because he could help or be a hero, he missed flying just for himself.

The first time he had felt stable enough to fly, Wally had whisked them out to that same field their first date was in and let Danny loose. Danny had flown for hours, darting around, doing tricks, and floating among the clouds. When he had come back down to earth, Wally had been there, picnic waiting and the biggest smile on his face.

So like everything in Danny’s life, it’s all a balance: the good, the bad, the effort… Danny loves it all.

He loves it not just because it reminds him of how much living means, but because of how deeply it shows that Wally cares. Wally’s love is one thing he can never question. It’s a certainty that Danny has needed through all of the aftermath.

Once Danny had been released from the Watchtower’s medical, he had started small dealing with it all. Coworkers were easy to reply to and he could trust that informing a few would spread the news to the rest. They didn’t push for more than he was willing to give, though he had known he would come back to questions and rumors.

Everyone else was harder.

He had set a video call with Sam and Tucker at the same time. It was maybe a little unfair to not give them each their own call, but he just didn’t have the energy for that. They weren’t kids anymore and hadn’t been for a long time.

“God, Danny,” Tucker started at the same time as Sam said his name.

He held up his hand and their mouths shut with a clack. His smile was tinged with sadness, but it was a smile. “Don’t. You two didn’t do anything horrible.”

“Dude,” Tucker said and for a moment Danny was back in high school. Tucker looked good, still in bright colors and with his hair expertly shaved on the sides with a little pattern. “We forgot about you.”

“We left you alone to deal with all that,” Sam said. Her hair was a more natural shade of black now and her smoky eye an expertly done wing. It was odd to see her lips red instead of purple.

“Because of a curse. You forgot because of a curse,” Danny said, “and then you just did what anyone does, you went on to have a future. It’s not like we had some big fight or anything, you both just moved on with your lives.”

“That still had to hurt,” Sam said.

“It did,” Danny said honestly. He didn’t see the point of pretending the past hadn’t happened. “But that doesn’t mean it was either of your faults. The last thing I want is anyone doing anything for me out of guilt, especially since in this case it’s misplaced. It’s okay that you both grew up. I did too.”

It hurt and it would always hurt, at least a little, but Danny didn’t want any false care now.

Sam chewed on her lip and Danny smiled a little at the sight of the old habit. “I’m still sorry.”

“Me too,” Tucker said.

“Thanks, that does mean a lot, but it’s okay, really.”

There was a level of peace from that talk. Sam and Tucker both asked if they could reach out sometimes, and Danny said yes but with zero expectations. They were different people than they were as children and Danny knew, because he had lived it, that without Phantom there wasn’t much for them to talk about. And Danny had no plans to talk about Phantom. That part of him had ended with a wish seven years ago. He didn’t want to rehash or relive it now, even with them.

Jazz… Jasmine was harder. Sam and Tucker losing touch was just part of growing up. His own sister ignoring him though, that wasn’t the same at all. If it wasn’t for his nieces, Danny didn’t know if he would even be trying with Jasmine, even as apologetic as she was. There were some things that were too hard to come back from.

“Are they here?” Danny asks and looks back down at his stubborn sleeve.

Wally steps forward and takes the cufflink from Danny. He’s gentle as he fits it into the slot and secures it. “They are. And all our friends are here too. Just remember that you don’t have to talk to them any more than you want to. It’s okay to be taking things slow. It’s okay to decide that you can’t do this with her. You know I’m with you whatever you decide.”

Danny raises Wally’s hands to brush a kiss across each set of knuckles. “I know. I’m so lucky to have you. Is it bad that part of me making an effort with them is so that my nieces have family other than their moms and our parents?”

“Nope. I think that makes you a really good uncle. I mean, where would I be without Aunt Iris? Family like that can mean a lot and if that’s the only reason you have for dealing with your sister, then that’s enough,” Wally assures him.

It helps Danny relax some.

“Okay, good. We’ll just… see how it goes. I’m not going to focus too much on them today, not when today is about me and you.”

“I think that’s all good. You’re just wrong about one thing though,” Wally says, his grin just a little mischievous. Danny loves that grin.

“And what’s that, Mister West?”

“Well, soon to be Mister West,” Wally says, “it’s that I’m the lucky one. I could have lost you so many times and so many ways and despite everything, today I get to marry you. I don’t think there’s anyone luckier than me today.”

“Well, not to have our first fight,” Danny teases, “but agree to disagree.”

“I think I can live with that.”

Danny laughs. There’s nothing funny about that, but the laughter bubbles up in him all the same, not from humor but from joy. “Living, that sounds like a very, very good plan.”

---

AN: Aaaaaah we are done!! Not everything is perfect, but Danny is alive and living and Wally is going to be with him for all of it <3. Thank you all for coming along for the ride on this! It's been unexpectedly delightful to write these two together and I'm glad to finally wrap it up with (hopefully) a nice bow.

And yes, this will be going up on ao3 but I need the brain functions to go back to the start and give it a good polish! I'll likely do it chapter by chapter weekly to give myself and my darling beta @mokulule time.

Until then or the next thing here, stay delightful, darlings!

#dp x dc #quick death ship #danny/wally #abson

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sl-ut · 3 months

Text

streamer!ellie hcs

been thinking about gamer!ellie williams x fem!reader a little too much lately so here are some random ass hcs

she's a pretty big streamer on twitch, plays a lot of different games but she particularly likes rpgs bc she thinks they're the most fun kinds of streams to watch

she plays gta online (on nopixel ofc) A LOT

her rp character is definitely like a druglord or something lol

speaking of, total stoner

she usually smokes right before her streams to help her settle down (she gets kinda nervous before her streams)

she's up front about her drug use (just weed don't worry) w her fans, but definitely doesn't wanna smoke on stream bc she knows there are younger viewers watching

she streams at night, probably around 8:30-9pm AT THE EARLIEST

has a boss set up. she has an extra room in her apartment for streaming, has lots of fun little figurines and posters of her fav games/movies/artists, led lights (always set to either blue or red), and custom display, keyboard, and headset

off-topic, but she'd also an astrophysics major and is on the DEANS LIST??? our girl is so casually smart and doesn't even try that hard like

she's such a nerd, always been a big star wars, harry potter, and lotr fan since she was a kid

she casually drops the gf bomb on stream one day and the internet just about blows up

lesbian twitter died a little that day

she's kinda secretive about it tho, didn't even really mean to mention her gf (she hadn't even asked her to be her gf yet and she already publicly announced that she was off the market)

for plot purposes, i've always really liked the idea that y/n is also a public figure? maybe she's a small actor/singer or an influencer or something

y/n texted her during the stream saying "u got something u wanna ask me???"

ellie was trying so hard to not turn red and end the stream

a few days later, everyone's fav lowkey singer/actor/influencer happens to soft launch her new gf (everyone was a little sus but no one really assumed that it was ellie bc why would it be??? they've literally never interacted on the internet before?)

except what they don't know is that ellie had been really high one night and decided to shoot her shot, sending a risky dm on insta and almost pissing herself when she saw that she had actually responded

begins talking about the relationship more on stream

doesn't reveal who her gf is for a while tho, but when she gets a text from y/n asking for her help for a sec she'll just tell her chat that she'll be back bc she needs to "go help the missus"

such a loser fr

finally hard launches on y/n's bday, posting a photodump from the past few months that they've been together

lesbian twitter died again

two of the hottest internet gays off the market? oh no

but everyone really loves it

ellie likes when she brings her snacks or a drink during the stream, inviting her to sit on her lap and chat for a bit while they're waiting to join a server or something

she bought an additional gaming laptop so y/n could stream with her sometimes

ellie does random super loser stuff when this happens, like if they're playing gta she's taking her on a long car ride around the city bc she's roleplaying as y/n's sugar daddy

loves using her platform to hype up her gf's work

always reposting new songs or casting announcements that her gf is involved in, and loves being her date to big press events

omg i might have to make a little modern!ellie fic bc i love this smmmm

#reader insert #x reader #imagines #lesbian #ellie williams x reader #ellie x you #ellie x y/n #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie the last of us #ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie smut

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christinesficrecs · 4 months

Text

I had a request for newer fics, so here you go! Also, some other recent fics were posted here.

They’re all together ooky, the Hale family… (Snap, Snap) by DropsOfAddiction | 12.4K | Explicit

Derek realises that he’s probably squashing Stiles a little bit, right at the same moment that Stiles apparently realises that he’s still holding onto Derek’s face.

They both definitely acknowledge Derek’s nakedness at the same exact time, judging by the alarmed look on Stiles’ face.

“So, you have no clothes on,” Stiles removes his hands and holds them above his head in surrender, cheeks a muddy red.

“In my defence, I was covered in fur less than two minutes ago,” Derek rolls his eyes and he pushes himself up and off him, hands covering his junk for Stiles’ sake.

“You’re still kind of furry now…” Stiles sits up, blinking rapidly, clearly just as weirded out as Derek. “Oh my god, pretend I didn’t say that. I’m not looking or anything.”

Derek smirks, because that… that was a lie and he cocks an eyebrow at him.

as dear as a brother by endversed | 10.3K | Explicit

“You are not allowed to sleep with him,” Scott says.

“You’re not the boss of me,” Stiles scoffs.

Stiles and Scott become best friends at college. Derek is Scott's hot older brother.

Take Me Away From Here by Hedwig221b | 33.5K | Explicit

Derek Hale looked terrifying. With his broad frame and muscles, with his wild black hair and thick beard, with his eyes the color of blood and fangs of a killer. Despite his kindness and his apparent attraction to Stiles, he was still a stranger, a predator, a wolf.

The thing is, Stiles would deal, but others might not. People found Lord Hale horrid, monstrous and unapproachable.

If Stiles stood behind him, no one would touch him.

He’d be safe with the wolf. If not from him, then definitely from everyone else. And that was enough.

Messily Ever After by KaliopeShipsIt | 20.3K

When Stiles and his blue slushie have a literal and quite splashy run-in with an adorable five-year old flower girl and her panicking daddy in the middle of the mall, the last thing he expects is to get a date to a stranger's wedding out of it.

Let alone, a boyfriend and a kid.

His Accidental Touch by Hidden_Orchard | 12.8K | Explicit

It happened accidentally, the first time. All the many and varied times afterwards, Stiles would hold his hands up and admit full responsibility for. But that first time – pure chance.

Derek needs a cuddle. Stiles - generous man that he is - would never deny Derek something he needs.

An Alpha's Misunderstandings by Dexterous_Sinistrous | 48.5K | Mature

And Derek was there, as if it was a simple twist of fate.

There were so many ways Stiles wanted to forgive Derek, but then he came to his senses.

He wouldn’t risk Charlotte’s safety for that hope–never again. ~*~ Stiles and Derek are parted by war and misunderstandings, only to find each other again.

Red, Red, Red by loserchildhotpants | 9.4K | Explicit

“Just… it’s weird, I’ve been - uh. You ever, like, dream of something? Something you’ve never seen before, but then you see it out in the world?”

everywhere, everything (every day) by nerdy-stilinski (Captain_Ameriyeah), S3anchaidh | 14.3K

Derek’s never been the best at making decisions. That’s how he keeps waking up with Stiles in his arms, but never under the right circumstances.

Or: Derek agrees to a pack vacation and instantly regrets it.

Matchmaking in Fandom by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella) | 13K

It wasn’t like it was a secret that the showrunners made terrible decisions when it came to their own show, so why he’d had actual faith in them not fucking the movie up, he had no idea. Really, it was his own fault.

He hadn’t even set the bar high for the movie! The bar was so incredibly low, like mid-shin height, and they somehow managed to get it subterranean. That was talent. A bad talent, but still a talent.

if i'm not made for you, then why does my heart tell me that i am? by EvanesDust | 13K

When Derek’s kids write out their Christmas lists, they insist he writes one too. Not long after it's deposited in Santa's mailbox, he's reunited with the man of his dreams.

Stiles.

Derek can't help but fall for him again. It's really too bad Stiles is so obviously taken.

...or the one where Derek’s a grump who makes assumptions about his pregnant omega neighbor.

#sterek #sterek fics #ficrecs #fic rec friday

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mikareo · 6 months

Note

megumi doing smth pls

⌗ THIRTEEN YEARS ₊ ˖ ་. megumi fushiguro x fem reader (2.6k)

⊹ ⠀⠀ 3 times megumi wants to tell you he loves you, and the 1 time he does.

contains; attack on titan au, marleyan!megumi, eldian!reader, aot spoilers!!! (season 4), forbidden lovers, fluff, angst, kissing, major character death, cannabalism? (titans), annie cameo! author's note; here u get an old draft (psa none of this will make sense if you haven't watched attack on titan!!!!)

i. what is love at first sight

it's almost human instinct; knowing which people are more likely to have good fortune. some are simply born with an advantage— these people having the freedom to walk along the river bank, skip flattened rocks down streams, and laugh with their peers. with families who shop in the market together, hand-in-hand with woven baskets strewn over their shoulders, and all the time in the world to live their lives to the absolute fullest as true freelancers facing the rising sun that sees tomorrow and the day after that and the day after that.

but in the truth of it all...the sun doesn't shine on everyone.

there are countless amounts of souls who aren't as blessed as marleyans like megumi. souls entangled with the devil herself, ymir, a woman who singlehandedly birthed the 'race from hell'...which he's never fully agreed with. everyone he knows refers to eldians as humanity's sin, but it's not their fault their biology is simply different.

humans are humans, right? they've done no wrong by being born. especially the warrior candidate he's been staring at for the past hour from a distance. you can't be that bad. after all, you're beautiful.

okay, yes. he has a little crush. he can't help it! one day, he was minding his own business on a walk home from the lab, when gojo had the bright idea of sneaking a peak at the warrior training. that's when megumi first saw you and his world stopped. sure, you were covered in mud and crawling through trenches with a rifle strapped to your back; but that didn't make him any less awestruck. since then he's hidden himself in the same bush, week after week, just to get a glimpse of your face.

"she's a cutie. you've got good taste." okay, creepy.

megumi rolls his eyes, glancing up at his mentor who's the only person who knows of his little secret. "don't you have women to harass?"

"ouch, sassed by a ten year old. i see how it is." gojo chuckles, ruffling his black hair and crouching down to the younger boy's level. "you see her out there? she's killing it. i heard she's the top contender for the female."

"i hope so." his blue eyes are locked on you, watching as your focused expression turns to determination whilst helping your teammate off the ground. "she'll have a better chance of living that way."

"...and maybe your family will let you meet her."

ugh, his family. since he was six, the zenin's have raised him with their questionable values and ideals. as the leading researchers in the modern world, they've revolutionized how eldians are studied! at least that's what he's been told. to be frank, he doesn't care about the right or wrong battle they've propagandized to the rest of humanity. all he cares about is knowing your name and telling you how pretty your eyes are.

"i want to talk to her, at least once." his voice is quiet, but gojo hears.

"why? you wanna tell her you love her?"

he hates him so much.

"no!" megumi exclaims, pushing back the older man in defense. his cheeks are bright red from embarrassment and he can feel the flames emitting from them. "i just want to be her friend, that's all. why do you always make things so weird?"

it's amusing to gojo how his little friend is so flustered. usually megumi is a shy boy, keeping to himself and avoiding contact with his peers; but whenever the conversation topic is you, he seems to perk up...and gojo loves to tease a lovestruck kid.

"don't worry," he smirks, "you'll understand your feelings when you're older. you don't need to tell her quite yet that you love her."

love you?

"just shut up and let me watch." megumi grumbles, resting his head in his hands as you're jumping up and down after being praised by your captain. he wishes he could make you that happy one day. "it's not love, i'm serious."

he'll understand what love means when he gets older. for now, he'll just imagine confessing.

ii. what is love that is forbidden

you're a lot more annoying than he thought you'd be.

after having been selected as the new female titan, your ego is boasting with energy and won't stop boasting no matter how often megumi tells you to zip it. though he was excited to meet you, his thirteen year old self now wishes you'd give him a moment of peace. instead, you insist on following him around whenever and wherever you can and yapping his ear off with comments on everyone and everything about your day. please, just give him a break.

"uh, fushiguro..."

he sighs with exhaustion. "what?"

"i think i locked us in here."

dammit.

"you forgot the key?" he asks.

"i forgot the key." you confirm.

of course you did.

with an exhausted grumble, megumi settles himself on the cold, cement floor of the supply closet you'll both call home for the next few hours. it's both of your days off, but he'd wanted to prep his supplies for his training on monday; to which you, of course, invited yourself along for the ride. you'll stay out of the way. it's fine, he can just ignore you. that's what he told himself...though, it's impossible for him to ignore you.

it's likely that no one will visit the storage room until the evening time— with most of his colleagues at home with their families, cooking a warm meal with lamb and stew. it's also uncommon for any of the researchers to be in liberio on their off days. megumi's just the special kind that doesn't think he'll be plagued by breathing the same air as eldians.

"mind if i join you?" he knows you're asking a rhetorical question and you know he'd never reject you.

with a small plop, you take a seat next to him. he's used to your warmth by now— considering you to be an essential part of his every day, despite how much he enjoys complaining about you— and leans his head against yours. it's obvious that you're sleepy. though, you never indulge in conversations about your training, megumi is well aware of how overworked you are. he can't imagine fighting in wars at this age, especially wars in which you're fourteen meters tall and smashing through brick walls; which is why he tries his best to be there for you when you need him.

your life is a battlefield and he's the peaceful conclusion.

"you know..." the sound of your voice is faint, a great contrast to your usual noise and megumi can tell something is wrong. "when they find us here, they're going to think i kidnapped you."

"i mean what else would the zenin heir be doing with a titan shifter?" you start to choke on your words and he instinctively wraps his arms around you. "you don't need to comfort me, fushiguro. we both know i'm going to be punished after this. you can't apologize and make everything okay like usual."

to your surprise, his pointer finger touches your cheek and gently wipes away your running tears. "...fushiguro—"

"it won't always be like this." he interrupts you, cupping your face as if you're a rare gem that he can't afford breaking. "when i'm in charge, i'm going to change things. you won't have to do this anymore. i won't let them do this to you anymore!"

the two of you are a mess on the floor, crying in each others arms, and wishing that the world was a better place. "you still have thirteen years left. please...please keep fighting for me. i promise i'm going to save you."

"fushiguro..."

"call me by my first name."

"...megumi."

you're beautiful. he wants to kiss you so badly, but he knows now isn't the time. he wants to hold your hand in public, but he knows you'll be berated for doing so. he wants to tell you he loves you, but he's too afraid.

megumi fushiguro is a coward.

...but he's a coward in love; and one day, when he's taller and stronger, he's going to be able to tell you that. he's going to be able to protect you.

iii. what is love that is hopeless

"hold still." megumi's voice is soft, his fingers of the same gentle malice as they tend to your open wounds that haven't quite healed yet. with titan steam wafting from the slashes scattering your forearms and shoulders, they blow into his face in a fury of pain. "dammit, i said hold still."

his brings both arms down to your shoulders, heart breaking at the sight of you wincing in retaliation to his force, but carries on. there's no telling what you would've gotten yourself into if he hadn't insisted he care for your wounds; after making it publicly known that he's to be the only researcher allowed within your vicinity after your tireless warrior missions, none of the other researchers even attempt to get near you. he hates how often you put yourself in harms way in order to save your comrades. you're too brave. you've never been just a warrior of marley, but more or less a warrior of all people.

"i've been sitting here for an hour already, megumi." you roll your eyes, swinging your legs over the metal rims and turning to face your very pissed off best friend. "i'm tired and i'd like to get at least an hour of sleep tonight."

his expression is somewhat terrifying. if you didn't know megumi was such a scaredy cat, you'd be intimidated by his reddened cheeks and eyes of fury. it's almost as if he's an inflamed torch held against fluorescent lighting, pasty and saturated in fear and exhaustion. "i need to make sure you're okay."

"well, i have another plane to catch at dawn," you deflect his concerns. "there's some issue i was assigned to when i landed this morning. i guess one of our enemies isn't afraid of titans yet."

"you're not going."

he's firm in his statement. megumi doesn't like how his colleagues take advantage of you and your abilities. they're working you to skin and bones. if they were the ones checking up on you after every battle they'd know so, but they wouldn't treat you with as much care. his only wish in the world is to keep you safe, which he's doing an awful job at as of yet. "i don't want you getting more hurt than you already are."

"as if it matters." you scoff, leaning towards him in an attempt to get him to back off. "i'll just give 'em a little taste of my titan and they'll run away like mice. it's easy, 'gumi. trust me—"

"life isn't a game!" he's furious.

"well mine is!" you're angry as well.

why don't you get it? why can't you just run away with him?

"i only have four years left! four years, megumi! i don't care if i die tomorrow or the day after that or the day after that. i'm going to either way. you don't have that problem. you don't understand."

without warning, his lips are on yours in his best attempt to stop you from spouting all of his fears and worries from your mouth. he doesn't want to hear it. he just wants to pretend none of it is happening, and you're going to be okay. you are going to be okay. he'll make sure of it.

it takes a moment for you to respond until your intertwined in a feverish kiss that sends his medical supplies clanging to the floor— but megumi doesn't care about order, all he cares about now is being as close to you as possible. he's dreamt of this moment for years. what you taste like...feel like...sound like. he knows you're his soulmate. what he doesn't know is why it's taken him so long to kiss you.

but before your connection can move forward and become something more, your touch is gone.

"i'm sorry, i can't do this." there are tears creeping from the corners of your beautiful eyes. "i—"

he calls out your name as your figure dashes out the door, wishing that he was able to confess. he wants to tell you he loves you so badly; except he doesn't have the bravery he needs. with four more years left, megumi has two things on his agenda.

1.) find a way to save you.

2.) tell you he's yours forever.

iv. what is love everlasting

he's finally become a monster like the rest of them.

from the first time he saw you, he told himself he'd be your savior. he made countless promises that he'd find a way for eldians and marleyans to live in peace, that he'd find a way to save you from this shitty war; only to be the very person to lock you in chains, awaiting imminent death as the next female titan will be born.

megumi wanted to be brave. he wanted to stop being such a coward, but some people just aren't capable of changing so much— and what a disappointment that is.

"hey, fushiguro?" when did you stop calling him by his first name? "can you keep a secret?"

he's not supposed to be civil with you. his orders are to chain you up, inject the child, and watch as she devours you; but you're his weakness. he can't resist you. "of course i can."

a smile graces your lips. it's not a smile of happiness or joy...it's one of anguish and pain. "i wish i ran away with you. i should've run away with you. even though we only had four years, we could've been happy."

why are you saying all of this?

now of all times?

you should've told him years ago! you should've let him know your secrets before he let them change him! before he distanced himself from you and became distracted with his work!

"...megumi..."

"yes?" he's desperate to hear you.

"...i don't want to die."

a thought crosses his mind. it's a scene in which two main characters beat all odds and escape the chains and prisons they've faced, running off into the sunset, never to be seen again. this scene has a happy ending, one where there's a small and intimate wedding with no witnesses except the meadow's flowers. he lifts your veil away from your eyes and murmurs sweet nothings as you kiss him to start off your forever. his heart wants that to be true. he wants that to be true. it's too late, though. you have no time left. your thirteen years is up. his thirteen years of knowing you is up. it's time to say goodbye.

"i can't save you." he's struggling to get his words out while maintaining his composure; and your heart breaks as his promise does as well. "i'm sorry."

he's a monster.

you hang your head, nodding and accepting your fate as he makes his way down the stairs. seeing you like that, knowing what your fate is, almost causes megumi to pass out from lightheadedness. he knows he shouldn't be worrying about himself. after all, you're the one who's about to die. he has a whole lifetime to continue living, and your lifetime was a mere twenty-six years.

gently, he takes the newest warriors hands and tells her what he's about to do. the blonde girl nods along to his words, trying her best to ignore your radiating hopelessness as she's about to become the next you; and megumi injects his needle into her neck.

he wants to look away so badly as she grows into a pure titan with eyes locked on your frail body, but he doesn't want it to end like this. there's gotta be something that he can do to help you. anything to save you from this fate; but to no avail, he's powerless. so powerless that the only thing he manages to do is mouth three seemingly meaningless words as he locks eyes with you.

"i love you."

⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⊹₊｡ reblogs are greatly appreciated! ˚₊⊹

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aliaology · 6 months

Text

NOW THAT WE DONT TALK

summary: jack realizes yns music is quite literally a call out, directed towards him, and his brothers egg it on. pt.3

series masterlist

“i called my mom, she said ‘that it was for the best!’ remind myself the more i gave, you’d want me less”

jack could’ve hit his head against the counter ten more times and the song would still be ringing through his ears like a splinter that wouldn’t come out of his hand.

quinns hand made contact with the back of jacks head. “knock it off, jack.”

jack groaned, shoving his head into his arms. he groaned again, this time the noise being muffled due to the his arm. “she wrote a song about me, quinn.”

quinn rolled his eyes. “you don’t know its about you” he told.

jack scoffed, head shooting up. “she literally called me out. the parties, that stupid red sea reference, even the chorus. its so obviously me. and then her newer single that dropped thirty minutes ago?’

quinn shrugged, “could be about trevor”

jack rolled his eyes, “no way in hell, quinn. they never hooked up and her newer one is about some guy hooking up with her later on—“

“you sound obsessed, jack.” quinn told. jack looked down, embarrassed.

“whats jack obsessed with?” trevor asked, walking inside the kitchen. he stole a grape from jack and popped it into his mouth.

“y/n’s song” quinn spoke.

trevor scoffed, “why are you so hung up on it? its just music.” trevor shrugged.

“hes upset because hes getting called out.”

jack groaned again, head hitting the counter.

quinn rolled his eyes again. “you’ve gotta stop doing that dude. listen— she probably made these ages ago and just now got to releasing them.”

trevor popped another grape in his mouth. “not too sure about that, but i know she started writing them when you two broke up.”

luke slowly walks in. “seriously? you guys are torturing the man talking about his ex.”

jack nods, signifying lukes words to be true.. luke goes into the cupboard to grab a plate. “just ignore it.” he shrugged.

trevor snorted. jack sent the boy a glare, causing his laughter to abruptly stop. “how can i just ignore it? shes getting big and her music is everywhere already.” he asked.

quinn gave him a look. “then face it, jack. you can’t keep putting yourself in denial for something you caused.”

jack let out an exasperated groan for the 100th time. “gee, thanks quinn. way to make me feel better.”

“dont start giving him shit, jack.” luke spoke.

jack rolled his eyes. “whatever, im going to my room.” he got up and went for the stairs.

all three boys looked around at each other. silence fell through the room. suddenly, the sliding door opens. “whats going on?” cole asked.

“quinn picked his side of the argument.” trevor spoke, slightly glaring at quinn.

quinn gave one back, “dont act innocent, trevor. you screwed her over too. you and jack need to own up to it and stop cowering like little kids. you are both in your twenties for fucks sake. grow up.”

quinn went off to his room, leaving a wide eyed group of boys behind.

jacks brows furrowed as he listened to the song in his earbuds. his girlfriend napped next to him as he sat up on the bed. he hates to admit it, but he kinda deserved this.

“lets fast forward to three hundred awkward blind dates later. if shes got blue eyes, i will surmise that you’ll probably date her. you dream of my mouth before it called you a lying traitor, you search in every model—“

he stopped the song, taking his earbuds out and tossing them to the floor. he cheated, and now was dating the girl he cheated with. it was sad, really.

fiona, she was a woman who loved money. jack, was a man who loved attention. maybe that’s why they were together. but she wasn’t horrible like people said, right?

quietly, he went to tik tok and made a fake account, that way she knew he didn’t stalk her profile. i mean— she has no idea he even uses it still.

jack searched fionas name up, ultimately clicking on her profile. she had one video up. he clicked on it.

ick ick ick ick

she was lip syncing that really terrible audio that went ‘he chose me, he dont want you. he chose me’ and honestly, jack was appalled.

but before he could open the comments, she started to wake up. he swiped out of the app and deleted it, tossing his phone to the side afterwards.

“hey baby.” he smiled.

now that we dont talk!

tags! @honethatty12 (if u want tags, just ask <3)

#hockey #jack hughes #nhl imagine #new jersey #new jersey devils #nhl #nhl hockey #quinn hughes #jack hughes x reader #luke hughes #trevor zegras #cole caufield #mitch marner

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hyunsvngs · 7 months

Text

kinktober !

kink: knifeplay

pairing: kim seungmin x fem!reader

wc: 3k

knifeplay: consensual BDSM edgeplay involving knives, daggers, and swords as a source of stimulation.

It was perfect. You had fake blood all over your room, staining your once blue sheets, but the costume was perfect.

For Halloween, your friends had decided to host a party at one of the dorms. You and your best friend, Jeongin, had decided it would be the best idea to dress up as Sidney Prescott and Ghostface. Your costume was quite easy - you already had an old denim jacket you could cover in blood, and a basic lilac top to go underneath it. When put together with a simple black pair of jeans, you felt completely ready. Your costumes were going to be the best.

The Instagram pictures would be amazing, too, you decided while walking to the party. You didn’t have a long way to walk, and it was quite amusing listening to the kids screaming for candy outside people’s doors - but all you could hope was that one of the members of 3Racha had actually cleaned the dorm this time, and not left it all on Hyunjin.

Music was already booming when you arrived, reverberating around your sober brain and making you wince. Would you regret coming here?

You realised you really did regret it, when the front door swung open and you were met with fox-like eyes in a… a fucking Pokemon trainer costume. Felix emerged from behind him, sharp yellow ears perched on his head and his cheeks covered in red.

“Listen,” Jeongin began, gloved hand reaching out to you. You sighed, shutting your eyes. “It was Felix’s idea. Look at him. He’s really convincing, and I’m sorry I didn’t text, but Chan’s put this stupid no phone ban on and-”

“Look!” Felix chirped, and when you finally saw him… well, you understood what Jeongin meant. He was in yellow dungarees, tail wrapped on a string around his waist and little ears bobbing with his glee. When he looked at you, his face fell. “Oh. Oh, I’m so sorry. Did you guys have something planned, or-”

“No, not at all, Lixie,” You murmured, pulling him in for a hug. He really was so cute. No one could resist him. “I’ll find my Ghostface somewhere.”

Felix nuzzled into the hug, wrapping his arms around you, before he was squealing. “Seungmin’s dressed up as Ghostface! Oh, Innie, did you plan this?”

You blinked, turning to Jeongin. Seungmin was your arch nemesis, but only purely on the basis that you both had some heavily unresolved sexual tension. Jeongin wouldn’t do this to you - or so you thought, because when you looked at his face, he was looking extremely guilty. “I know you have some… issues, but it needs to end now. It’s making things awkward, and, and… you can take pictures together, y’know? Then be friends,” He was mumbling, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. His Pokemon hat obscured most of his face, but you could still see the pout on his lips. Fuck this. You had the two sweetest men in front of you apologising, expecting you to be angry at them, but even you weren’t that mean.

You sighed, finally pushing past the two figures to enter the party. You were immediately attacked by a black plastic streamer dangling from the ceiling, and you swatted it away with a grunt. “It’s fine. Let’s do the pictures, then.”

It had always been the plan - to take pictures all together before the party really got into full swing. You had a feeling you’d been a little late because there were already quite a few people there. Still, you diligently walked into the kitchen behind Felix and Jeongin anyway, where everyone was standing around, conversing.

There he was. Ghostface mask pulled halfway off of his head to reveal dark, menacing features and a black cloak draped over his slender figure. Chunky black boots made an echoing noise as he tapped his foot impatiently on the tile, sipping out of a glass with one gloved hand and the other holding - a knife. It glinted in the light as he spun it around with his fingers, playing way too comfortably with the blade. Oh. Oh, no. Someone was playing a practical joke on you.

“Is that knife real?” You squeaked, and Seungmin turned to you with a glare. “Like, it’s not a prop…? Why do you have a real knife?”

Seungmin raised an eyebrow, then his lips were curling upwards with a smile. “To finally kill you with.”

“Haha, that’s so funny,” You deadpanned, but half of you was considering if he was being genuine about it. It wouldn’t surprise you - he was a sadistic fuck, always had been since you met him. It was why you wanted him so bad. “Let’s take these pictures. I’m already over it.”

Felix fiddled with his camera, flicking off the lens cap and trying to get it in the perfect position on the counter. You scurried in front of Seungmin as he walked over after placing his cup aside. Once Felix had set the timer, he ran in front of the lens and clutched onto Jeongin. Oh, yeah. What was Seungmin supposed to do, given that you were matching?

You had your answer quickly. With one gloved hand, he pulled his mask down and pulled you into him by the waist, and then he was positioning the knife at your exposed collarbone. It nipped teasingly, the blade threatening to draw blood. You looked down in shock, only to see Seungmin’s hand confidently holding the handle - god, was he skilled with this? He hadn’t killed people, hopefully, but… what if he was into something like this?

Wetness pooled in your panties at the thought. It’s a kink straight out of your deepest, darkest desires. The idea of being too scared to move in case the knife bites at your skin, dripping crimson liquid down your body only to be lapped up by the blade again… yeah. It was hot, and for some reason, with your fake-enemy pressed against you, it was even hotter. You didn’t even blink when the flash went off, too focused on trying to keep your breaths even.

Seungmin dropped his hand once the picture was taken, and then he yanked the mask back again. He was staring at you with a bewildered expression, but he looked somewhat impressed. Pulling you to one side by your arm, he gripped your waist again, trapping you against the wall so he could whisper into your ear. “Did you get turned on when I held that knife to your neck?”

“No, what’s wrong with you-“

“I heard you holding your fucking breath,” Seungmin hissed. “That’s fucking insane, you know? Dressing up as Sidney and then getting all… like that. It’s like you wanted me to do it.”

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. Seungmin’s eyes flitted around your face. “I was actually meant to match with Jeongin, so maybe I wanted him to.”

“Oh, c’mon,” Seungmin scoffed, rolling his eyes. He pinched his temples, and then he sighed. “I know you want to fuck me. God, I want to fuck you too, so bad. I’m sick of playing this stupid push and pull when I could be upstairs fucking you with this knife to your neck right now.”

Your eyes widened. You let out a puff of air, trying to find the words to say, but you only noticed that fuck, Seungmin was awfully close all of a sudden. His breath was heavy on your burning cheeks. When you looked around the room, you could see that no one had noticed the two of you - Felix was too busy still jumping around and Changbin and Jisung had dressed as Peter Pan and Tinkerbell. You wanted to coo at Changbin, his bulging arms so adorable in the little green dress and wings, but you were definitely more engrossed in what Seungmin had to say.

“The party. We can’t leave, you know?” You finally spoke, and Seungmin pulled back. You wanted to cry. He looked around the room, nodding, before he was pulling the mask back onto his face and obscuring his annoyingly perfect features.

“Half an hour. Jisung’s room, upstairs. Is that alright with you?” His voice was muffled, and you had to crane your head a bit to hear him. You nodded nonetheless, and he gave you a quick wave before disappearing into the crowd of dressed up men.

You sighed heavily. This was about to be the longest half an hour of your life.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Jisung’s room was chaotic. You had literally no idea why Seungmin had decided on his room out of everyone’s - surely Hyunjin’s would be better, or even Chan’s with the mood lighting? You opened the door anyway, entering the small room and stepping over piles of clothes to lay back on the bed. At least the bedsheets were cleaned. Jisung’s lamp was the only source of light, leaving the room basked in a creepy orange Halloween atmosphere. It definitely fitted the setting.

It had been exactly half an hour. Seungmin was late. Was he ever late? In your whole pseudo-friendship, you were sure he’d never been late, and-

The door burst open and a masked figure emerged. You jolted, sitting upright on your hands and blinking at the man in costume. It briefly crossed your mind that you couldn’t even be sure it was Seungmin, and then he was tearing the mask off, throwing it aside.

“It’s still me,” He said, tone soft. Was he a mind reader as well as a borderline psychopath? You nodded, wiggling forward on the bed when he sat across from you. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Did you bring the knife?” You responded. Seungmin burst out laughing, and then he was bringing it out from his jean pocket, beneath the cloak.

“You are very fucked up. Has anyone ever told you that?” He murmured. You stared at his gloved palms as he threw the knife aside, moving on the bed to pin you down against the mattress. You wiggled impatiently, spreading your legs to allow him between them. Your chest heaved, staring up at him with doe eyes as he blinked down at you.

“‘M not fucked up,” You mumbled, pouting. Seungmin chuckled.

“What was it Billy said in the movie again? ‘It certainly fucked you up, it made you have sex with a psychopath’? Is that not what’s happening right now, baby?” His breath was hitting your face again, and you just couldn’t help it this time. With one hand on the back of his neck, you pulled him down, pressing your lips against his in the filthiest kiss you’d ever shared. Seungmin groaned, hands meeting your waist and delving into your mouth with his tongue. You let him nibble into your bottom lip, let him nearly draw blood with his teeth until you were whining, bucking your hips up for more.

You whined, chasing his lips for more kisses. You heard fabric rustling, and then Seungmin was pressing an ice cold blade to your neck. You shifted immediately, laying back against the pillow and looking up at Seungmin obediently. He just smiled, appearing borderline menacing in the dim lighting of the room. You were so fucking wet.

“You do get off on this,” Seungmin mused. He leaned back on his ankles, letting the knife drag down your body. With a clean swipe, it was cutting through the fabric of your tank top and leaving you in just your bra. “Should I make you bleed, hm?”

“You can- you can do anything you want, Seungmin,” You sighed, arching your back to get more of the feeling of the blade against you. Seungmin bit his lip, dragging the blade down to your jeans. He wouldn’t be able to cut through that fabric - it’s too thick, he’d need something sharper. You could practically see the cogs turning in his head and then he was shaking his head, unbuttoning your jeans and yanking them down your legs. They balanced precariously on one ankle, and you kicked them off before eyeing Seungmin up and down. “Are you… gonna get naked, or?”

“I have different plans for tonight,” Seungmin replied quickly. He gripped the knife firmer this time, until he was dragging it down to your underwear. You knew you were wet, and you shut your eyes and moaned loudly when he pressed the blade into the wet spot forming in the fabric. You thanked every god that the music was still just as loud as earlier. “I’m going to finger you and play around with this knife. I don’t think you could handle more tonight.”

He was right. Another thing that irritated you beyond belief was the fact that Seungmin seemed to read your mind. First with your silly knife play kink, and now with the fact that you definitely couldn’t handle full blown sex tonight. You would’ve tried, and gotten yourself all fuzzy over it - but he knew better.

“Okay,” You agreed. He hummed once more, and then he hooked the blade into the lace of your underwear, cutting them off of your body. He was a bit heavy handed though, and your legs thrashed when the blade nicked your skin just a little, causing a small crimson red cut to bloom on your hip bone.

“Oh, would you look at that?” He ogled the cut, running his thumb over it. It made you whine in pain, yet he ignored you and thrust his thumb into your mouth. The taste was tangy, a bit too metallic for your liking but the whole thing was so fucking hot you couldn’t deny him anything. “Did you like that, too? Okay. We’ll explore that another time.”

Seungmin threw the knife aside once more, and then two long fingers were pressing into your folds. You laid there with legs spread, letting him explore every dip and crevice in your pussy and examine how wet you were. You knew you were dripping, and he did too - it was just a waiting game.

You squirmed, bucking your hips up. “I’m wet enough. I promise that I am, just-“

You gasped when he pressed the knife against your throat again. You hadn’t even seen him grab it. “Stay fucking still,” He warned. “I decide when you’re ready.”

Well, you could definitely get on board with that. Seungmin sunk his middle finger into you nonetheless, meeting no resistance. Your hole was dripping around him, leaking down to his knuckle and making him sigh in approval at the sight. He still had his gloves on, the faux leather buttery and smooth inside of your hole. “This pussy’s tight, huh?”

“I’d clench it for you,” You breathed out, letting one of your hands grab your tits over your bra. The knife was still pressed tightly against the column of your throat, but you managed to pull your tits out of the lace, making Seungmin’s eyes instantly flit down to your pebbled nipples. He started to thrust his finger inside of you, the material of his gloves dragging on your rim. “I’d- I’d clench around your cock, Seungie. Make it so tight for you.”

“Yeah?” Seungmin breathed. On his next thrust in, he pushed another finger in, and then he was curling two directly at that lovely spongy spot inside of you. “I’ll look forward to it, baby. Do my fingers feel good?”

“So good,” You gushed, tweaking your nipples with your fingers. “It’s so good, and- the knife, oh god-“

“Is it like you imagined, yeah?” He moved up to your side, easing his pressure on the blade so you could turn your head and kiss him. It was just as filthy, and he moaned in approval when your walls fluttered around his digits. When he pulled away, a string of saliva connected you both. “Maybe next time, I’ll fuck you with the handle of the knife.”

You keened, starting to bounce your hips against his hand. He obliged with your movements, pressing his palm up against your clit and letting you grind the sensitive bud into his calloused hand. It was just the right amount of soft and rough, making your toes curl in your socks and your orgasm build steadily, a white hot pleasure in your pussy.

“It’s- I need it-“

“God, do you even know what you need?” Seungmin chuckled, kissing your cheek. “I think you need to cum for me, don’t you?”

You nodded erratically, letting your head fall onto his shoulder. Seungmin dropped the knife to his opposite side once more, replacing it with a firm grip to your throat with his spare hand. The sight of his gloved digits around your throat and restricting your airflow had you wailing once more, gripping his wrist and grinding with renewed fervour.

“I think- oh, I’m gonna cum,” Your lips parted, letting out muted moans and whines at the feeling of his fingers inside of you. “Oh, yeah, I’m gonna cum!”

“Cum for me then, no need to make a noise,” Seungmin was still amused, and you gasped before you were cumming. “That’s it, there you go.”

You felt your hole gush around his fingers, soaking the material of his gloves with white cum and your clit throbbing through your orgasm. It felt good, not only to cum but to also finally have some tension resolved with such a prominent person in your life.

When you finally came to, you were still gasping, breath heavy and burning your lungs with every exhale. You heard Seungmin coo at you, laying back and dragging you onto his chest.

“Good?” He questioned, and you nodded.

Then, something hit you. “Seungmin?” He hummed in response. “You cut my shirt open. What do I wear for the rest of the party?”

Seungmin stopped breathing, and then he burst out laughing, full body laughs wreaking havoc on his body.

“It’s not funny!” You whined, but you were giggling too, slapping his chest playfully.

“You can wear the cloak, baby,” He kissed your nose. “I have clothes on underneath.”

You hummed, nodding. “You still have to wear the mask though.”

“Fuckin’ freak,” He mumbled, but he was still grinning.

“You like it.”

Seungmin kissed you again, chaste and sweet. “Unfortunately, yes.”

793 notes · View notes

tonixe · 10 months

Note

Hey can I pls have upper moons with a goddess storm/ororo Munroe reader? Or a scarlet witch/Wanda Maximoff reader?

♰ ★ 𝖀𝖕𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖒𝖔𝖔𝖓𝖘 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖆 𝖌𝖔𝖉𝖉𝖊𝖘𝖘 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗

n.o.t.e.s - OMG YES, I LOVE THIS IDEA!

w.a.r.n - None, doma being a menace, and the reader not reading the room.

p.a.i.r.i.n.g - various!Uppermoons x godess!reader

w.c - 675

You slowly opened your eyes to see a man with oddly but bright rainbow eyes staring at you. As you blinked several times before pushing yourself far away from the man.

Before the creepy figure chuckled " She's awake!" his odd monotone voice, made your body shake. As you quickly whipped your hand across your body sending a gust of red magic going towards the unknown man before he quickly dodges the attack.

While you stood up, trying to balance yourself onto the ground. "WHO ARE YOU" you yelled, as you looked at the blonde-haired man, baring your teeth at him. Before you stared around your surroundings, you saw a bunch of people—no demons. Staring at you, "What the fuck" you cursed under your breath, as the demons looked at you curious.

"Where am I" you barked at him, you felt your hands turning warm as your eyes glittered with red color. "You're in the Infinity Castle, thanks to the biwa lady!" he clasped his hands together, giving you a smile. You lowered your hands down. The color of your eyes flickering into their natural color.

"Where's the exit" you muttered, "A-"

"There are no exits" Akaza cut Douma mid-sentence, looking at your pissed-off figure. "What do you mean there are no exits, why am I here!" you yelled, walking to him but stopping mid-way.

"No exits, how the fuck did I get here" you barked, "You were here before any of us" Daki interrupted, you as she looked at you oddly.

She crossed her arms against her chest, she was young but dressed in revealing clothes, "How old are you" you said, pointing at her, "HUH? WHAT IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?!?" she exclaimed, puffing out her cheeks.

"You look 14, and I don't think kids are supposed wear something like that" you said out, before registering what you said.

"HUH?!?" she yelled before she almost attacked you before her brother grabbed her. You cocked your head at her before you felt a strong aura spawning behind you, you immediately saw the demons bowing down.

Before you turned around to see a man, with black hair and red crimson eyes. His aura was creepy for you, as your body conscious started heating up, feeling your eyes glittering with color.

The unknown man gave you a look, that made you shake to your core. You manage to look at him in the eye, though fear paralyzes you.

Before his body-chilling voice ranged through the infinite castle. "What's the update on the blue spider lily," he said, nobody said anything, the atmosphere was tense.

"I said, what is the update" he yelled out, before someone spoke up, "W-well, Lord Muzan. The location of it is unknown, but I do have some information about" one of them, you guessed demons said. His whole appearance was odd to you, it was a body coming out of a vase, and his eyes and mouth were in opposite places.

"Well, are you going to be an idiot or say it," Muzan said, it was a flashed, that the demon's head was in his hand. Before the he started rambling about the information he had, when he was done, his head was throwing to the ground, as you at the head rolling.

"Since you guys can't find a simple flower, I found something better," Muzan said before he shortly degraded the uppermoons.

"You" you were snapped out of though, as he pointed at you.

"You're going to find it" he said, turning his body towards, shortly all eyes were on you.

"Me?" you pointed at yourself, "what is a spider lily" you questioned, deadpanning. "Huh," Muzan said, "Do you seriously don't know what a blue spider lily is" Muzan said, twitching his eyebrows.

"No.." you said, cocking your head to the side.

"Are you serious right now" he closed his eyes, and put his hand on his nose bridge, in a pissed-off expression.

The upper moons just looked at you incredulously, "So.. could I go home now?" giving him a smile.

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tarjapearce · 8 months

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I had a cute idea of the soccer family and it’s like wife reader and Miguel after a long long day and they finally put kids in bed clean the kitchen from dinner and their both ready for bed in their sleep clothes and they decided to watch a movie but the movie its a sad movie when a kid dies or get really sick and the wife reader gets really sensitive about that cause she imaginé the movie kid as her own kids and start crying and Miguel it’s trying to comfort her (I already ask for this in another page but I think you would get this better) I think it’s a cute idea, love your writing. 🫶🫶

Omg, I saw a movie that reminds me so much to this!!! . Not precisely physically injured but yeah. Hope you like! ❤️✨

(If you're into drama, Watch it ❤️)

The quietness after another successful day in the O'Hara household meant another victory for daily activities. Benjamin was changed into his little blue and red onesie, and put to sleep. Gabriella was tucked in bed; You and Miguel were ready to enjoy a little time together before going to bed.

Miguel had been zapping through the channels, you cuddled him and he put an arm around your shoulders.

His eyes were settled on the tv, the scene of a blonde little girl looking at to what seemed to be her legal guardian, confused as to why there was a new lock in the door.

The movie title displayed on the bottom, 'What Maisie Knew'

"She's such a cutie" You mumbled as you watched the little actress making an appearance in school holding hands with a man as he walked her towards the classroom.

---

As the movie advanced you couldn't help but to cling to Miguel, he was as tense as you were. Seeing the characters fight over the custody of their only daughter and making her to choose gave your heart a doleful flip.

Eyes couldn't help but gloss at a certain scene, the little girl being awaken in the middle of the night just cause her emotionally neglecting mother thought it was a good idea.

Resentment, pain yet understanding were one of the primary things the movie had stirred within your pot of emotions but soon sadness joined.

How could a mother do such thing to her only child? Still was beyond you. You had tried to be empathic with the character, but still, was something your mind couldn't quite grasp.

Her neglect and abandonment was deliberated. Sussan didn't fight for her unless she saw Maisie being happy with others.

Fat tears rolled down your cheeks and Miguel frowned

"¿Estás bien?" (Are you ok?)

His hands pushed you closer to him on his chest as your head shook. He turned the TV off.

"How can she do that? Resent her own child to be happy. Like, she is a child! It's not Maisie's fault she's been an unstable woman."

Miguel gave a deep exhale and rested his head ontop of yours.

"You know that not many parents are meant to be."

"It only makes it worse to know that she is aware of everything that is going on. I just... ugh, I could... I could never do something like that. Marrying someone out of spite, dragging your kid into a grown up fight, and make her choose!"

You hiccuped and he wiped away your tears.

"It's just a movie, mi amor."

"I know. Still... It's so damn awful knowing that parents like these exist. I couldn't help but imagine Gabi like that. And God... I swear I'd fight with teeth and claws for her."

Miguel chuckled, a bit sadly. The sudden image of him and you fighting over Gabriella and Benjamin surely didn't sit right on his chest.

"You know we are far from perfect, right? Marriage wise."

You nodded and clung to him once more.

"But know this. We'd never get to that, ok?"

"Promise?"

"Te lo prometo. You're stuck with me forever, cariño." (I promise)

His lips kissed your forehead.

"Besides, think it as a win for Maisie. She gets to have loving parents that truly look after her wellbeing and those cabrones will think twice before having a kid again."

"At least they know they're shitty parents."

"Cierto. But don't think too much about it." (True that)

He cradled you in his arms and caressed your hair.

"That movie is banned from this household"

Miguel chuckled and nodded.

"Need a glass of water or tissues?"

"Hold me?"

"Of course."

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #soccer family ⚽🕷️#gabi o'hara #t writes✨#dad miguel o'hara #wife reader #THAT MOVIE IS SO GOOD AND HEART WRENCHING 🙃🙃#miguel o'hara fluff

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richea · 1 month

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Inomata’s Design Notes & Memories - Destiny Cast

Some notes:

I’ve linked images of each thing she references below.

Unlike the first batch of Eternia characters I previously posted, these were in Japanese. And unlike the Destiny 2 ones I translated, she talks about her experiences with the characters in the game and not just her design processes!

The book in question is this one.

What I think about most when designing characters is their colors and the components to their look. The characters are displayed as such small sprites, so in order to be able to differentiate them from each other, I give each of them a specific color palette and unique accessories to each of their outfits.

Stahn’s thing was his scarf. I also made sure his shoulder pads, gloves, and boots looked huge.

Rutee is supposed to be a thief, so I made her look a bit like a ninja. I didn’t want her to look too girly, so I gave her shorts and exposed her navel. For colors I went with red and black, since that’s a distinctive palette. Whenever I’d do boss battles, she’d always be joyfully picking 2 gald off the ground instead of healing my very low HP characters (laughs). I thought about removing her from my party to prevent this, but then I’d feel bad, and it just made me think “this is all part of her plot” (laughs).

Philia is a priestess through and through. I went for white and green to give her an earthly feel (laughs). Her glasses and braids were a strong request from Namco. I came up with designs for her, but they didn’t have the glasses or braids, so they were repurposed for the priests in Straylize Temple. It was the basis for Philia’s design as well as Elraine’s in the sequel. Philia has her eye on Stahn, but he eats too much and he oversleeps. I feel like they’d work out better if Philia was more the assertive type herself (laughs).

Woodrow is an archetypical handsome man, so I didn’t have much to stress about when designing him. He’s a king, so I wished he had a stronger atmosphere behind him. I almost never used him when playing the game though (laughs). When you break into Dycroft, I thought, “it’d be really cool in a narrative sense to use him here, but he’s just so weak”. But you get special dialogue if you take him along, so I went “tsk” and brought him anyway. “Just stick to the backlines and don’t die” (laughs).

Leon��s really easy to draw, so again I didn’t have much to stress about when drawing him. He has a princely vibe to him, so I gave him white tights, but everyone was taken back by it! I thought, “is it that weird?” and ended up making them less tight fitting (laughs). He acts a bit snobbish, gets seasick easily and refuses to eat vegetables, so he really crosses off a lot on the “young master” list. He’s also really fun to use in battle (laughs). He has a really low defense stat but he hits fast, so it’s crucial that you string your combos together. When paired with Stahn, if you can isolate your bosses in the far side of the screen, they go down quite fast. Then I see the popup that Rutee’s picking gald off the floor again and I just use healing items on him (laughs).

I wanted to make Chelsea cute and small, so I based her image off of little birds. I gave her a palette of pink, green and blue, and made her hair look like a cockatoo or parrot. Her bloomers look like a paper lantern and I find them quite cute (laughs). Her life story makes me want to cry though. She’s fine and all in the first game, but in the sequel, she’s still wearing those bloomers from when she was a kid, living all alone on a snowy mountain. And if you go through her drawers, you can take something that Woodrow gave to her. I felt so bad, I thought “even though it’s so out of the way, I’ll go buy all the items you need!” (laughs). Then she makes all of these bows for you, but by then, I’d already enhanced my weapons a lot… But I felt so bad that I never Refined them and thought, “I’ll keep these on me forever” (laughs).

Johnny’s original idea was “troubadour,” but as the story progressed and I gave him his hat and all sorts of plumes, he came out a bit comical (laughs). He’s a really fun character to have in your party though, and I fell in love with him right away. I love that his tone-deafness does physical damage to the enemies (laughs).

With the Swordians, they have the will of humans and I wanted to incorporate that into their designs, but it didn’t seem to fit so I went for something more inorganic. Berselius alone has a creepy aura to him, and when Destiny 2 came around I thought “But his owner is such a nice person! Is it really okay for him to have such a creepy design?” but then I thought well, maybe Harold just likes things that way (laughs).

#seines translation #tales of destiny #tales of destiny 2 #mutsumi inomata #tales design notes #inomata mutsumi

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xmalereader · 10 months

Text

Miguel O’Hara x Black Cat! Male reader || 3 ||

|| Masterlist ||

Authors note: This one has a bit more angst into the story also these are not accurate to the film! I made my own changes in order to keep the whole found family together also thank you for 7K! 😫 damn just a week ago I had 6.8k and quickly got to 7K! Thank you everyone and enjoy this next part!

Summary: Miles has been MIA and Noir has grown worried over the disappearance of his own little spider.

Warnings: Slight ATSV Spoilers, fluff, angst, mentions of spider bite, universe, fate, found family au, miguel is trying his best, black cats fate changes, reveals, humor, co parenting, language.

Word Count: 2.1K

— || Part One || Part Two ||

—

“You weren’t suppose to be Spider-Man.”

Miles had been MIA ever since he got back from his last mission in capturing Spot. He was hard man to catch but after some time and working as a team they were able to capture him and put him on lock down, making sure that he was no where near anything that could help him escape.

It was Noir who noticed the teens absences after a day. The kid was usually attached to his hip and never left his side, other times he would come see him and rant about things that happened in school or the times that he saved people and the stories he would tell, but not today.

Miguels lab was too quiet.

It irritated him.

Even though Miguel and him have started to fix up their marriage again, he was still under house arrest until further notice from his own husband, not being allowed to leave without permission, but the cat was getting anxious. A small voice inside his head was telling him to search for the kid, to check up on him and see how he’s doing. The parent inside of him wanted to crawl out and do what a parent would do when their kid was suddenly missing.

So, without Miguel’s knowledge he leaves base.

He makes sure to block Lyla from tracking him in case Miguel finds out that he’s gone. As much as he cares for his husband he didn’t want to deal with his anger if he were to find out that he left without giving him a reason. When arriving to Miles universe he makes sure to appear on the rooftop of his parents apartment, knowing that it was the weekend and that the kid usually spent his time at his parents house, being with them and catching up.

With slow movements he looks over the roof to where Miles bedroom was, getting ready to climb down and slide the window frame open only to freeze when he sees Miles dad leaving the apartment with a deep sigh, following after him is his wife. “Don’t worry. I’m sure he will come back and help.” Said Rio as her husband shrugs his shoulders. “Spider-Man hasn’t showing up in nearly two weeks. Who knows if he’s coming back.”

His words catch Noir by surprise, eyebrows furrowed as he stays hidden on the rooftop and watches the couple interact with each other before he quietly slips inside Miles room to find it empty. He takes in the teens room, never had he entered the kids room without permission until now, taking in the interior and the way the kid kept it organized and messy at the same time.

He found Mile’s sketch book lying open on his bed finding the open pages to a sketch of both him and his uncle, simple drawings that the kid liked. He reached down to pick up the sketch book, only staying on those pages before closing the sketch book and setting it down. The rest of kids room is messy and clothes was scattered everywhere, in the pile of clothes he finds his spider suit and frowns.

The kid never left without it as he gets down on one knee to pick it up, holding it in his gloved hands before hiding it under Miles bed and looking out the window, getting an idea of where the kid could possibly be as he jumps out the window, using his grappling hook to swing across the city as he searched for the kid.

The sound of traffic can be heard below him as he swings across the city, focused on finding the kid that he doesn’t notice the familiar red and blue following after him.

It only takes him a few minutes to reach the clock tower, landing on top to find the teen sitting on the edge, wearing a hoodie as he stares at the city view.

“Figured I’d find you here.”

His voice startles the poor teen, jumping in surprise as Miles sighs in relief. “You scared the hell out of me!”

Y/n chuckled as he sits down next to the teen. The two sitting in silence as they take in the city’s view and sunset. “You’ve been distant.” Y/n finally speaks up, glancing at the kid who lowers his head with a small shrug. “Sorry, just been…going through something.”

The thief wants to roll his eyes at the kids excuse, knowing that it was something more as he moves closer to the kid. “Sure its not something else? I mean, I’ve seen you upset and you still do your job as the cities hero but—‘spider has been missing for 2 weeks?’ Doesn’t sound like you.”

“What are you, my mom?”

“Technically, I’m still your guardian whenever you are a hero.” Y/n shot back, nudging the kid on the shoulder playfully, earning a slight laugh from him.

It wasn’t until he fell silent again, giving Miles the time to finally get the courage to speak. “Remember the mission I had with the others on capturing Spot?” Y/n nods at his words. “Well, he showed me something that I wished I didn’t know.” Miles sighs deeply, nervously playing with the strings of his hoodie, eyes focused on the material.

“What did he show you?” Y/n asks.

Miles hesitates before speaking up. “That I wasn’t suppose to be Spider-Man.”

Y/n froze at the comment, eyes widening under his goggles as he glared at nothing, blood boiling.

“He said that the spider that bit me actually belonged in another universe and that someone else was suppose to be bitten.” Miles continues. “I wasn’t suppose to be Spider-Man in the first place.”

“Miles—“

“That makes me an anomaly doesn’t it?” Miles turns to Y/n with sad eyes, realizing the mistake that’s happened in his own universe the realization that this whole time he thought he had a purpose only to find out that it was all a mistake. “Think Miguel will be upset?” Miles next words cause Y/n to blurt out. “I don’t give a damn what he thinks.”

Not knowing the Miguel was hiding behind the pillars, listening into the two.

“But, I’m an anomaly. I could destroy my own universe!”

“Or you can change it.” Y/n’s words catch him by surprise while the adult sighs deeply. “Not everything has to go according to plan and not everything can go the way it needs to be.”

“But, there’s a universe out there without a Spider-Man—!”

“They don’t need to be bitten by a spider to be Spider-Man.” Y/n’s voice grows stern with the kid. “Yes, that universe is in need of a hero but it doesn’t have to be a spider. Before Spider-Man they were once a smart kid and the universe will always find a way to fix things on its own. They may not have super strength or webs, but they damn sure know how to create something new.” He reached up to lift his goggles and mask, slipping it over his head as he smiles faintly at the kid.

“I’m still an anomaly…” Miles mutters.

“Then so am I.”

Miles stares at him confused. “What do you mean?”

Y/n’s fingers tracing over the tinted goggles, sighing deeply. “Ever Black cat is the same. They betray people, use them, greedy, a good thief.” He laughs. “But most importantly they always use Spider-Man in their own little mind games.”

Miguel shifts in place, leaning his head back against the pillar.

“I’m nowhere near that.” Y/n shakes his head. “I became a thief because I was struggling, later I found Miguel and his daughter and put my second life on hold to focus on my relationship only to get married and have a family I always wanted. A happy family.”

Miles listens intently.

“Even after I lost my daughter…and then Miguel I still remained loyal to both him and Spider-Man. Yeah, we have our quarrels here and there, but I never stopped loving him. Never used him like others would, never moved on because of how wrong it felt and whenever I got to close to him again I wanted to run away, to stop our future from getting bad again. I grew afraid until now.” He explains to Miles, eyes focused on his gloved hands. “I changed my own fate and so far it’s been going well.”

Miles sighs softly after listening to Y/n’s explanation knowing that everyone’s fates changes, weather its good or bad the universe always finds a way to fix it. “You think my universe will be fine?”

“Your universe will be fine, Miles.”

Both Y/n and Miles whip their head over their shoulder to see Miguel standing before the two, hands on his hips, wearing his spider suit as his mask dissolves away, showing his face to the two. “Your universe won’t suffer.” Said Miguel again, giving Y/n a soft kick on the thigh, indicating for him to move while Y/n glared at him playfully and moves aside, giving him space to sit between the two. Clearly the cat already knew that he would get caught by his husband but didn’t think that he would react in such a calm manner.

Miguel grunts, siting down between the two and sighing deeply. “Y/n’s is right, not everyone’s universe is perfect. Yes, you are an anomaly, but that doesn’t mean that your fate can change and their isn’t anything I can do to fix it. So, all we can do is sit back and watch as the universe decides for you.”

Miles nervously picks on his sweatpants, picking on a small lose string as he pulls on it gently a nervous tactic that he picked up along the way. “I guess my universe wanted you both to be in it, right?”

Both Miguel and Y/n look at Miles with content smiles while Y/n looked at Miles proudly. The kid had gone through a lot as his first few days as the cities hero, losing his uncle along the way as the poor kid suffered on his own, unable to tell anyone that he was their when his uncle died without revealing too much of his true identity until he met Y/n the talent thief that was also Miguels husband. The thief couldn’t have been happier to have met Miles, cherishing the kid and taking him under his wing and treating him like his own son too.

“Guess they really did.” Y/n is the first to speak up, standing up from his spot and rounding Miguel to tussle Miles hair before standing near the edge of the clock tower. “Now, I think its time for Spiderman to make an appearance, don’t you think?” He questions as he slips his goggles on, giving them a knowing smirk as he held out his grappling hook.

“Meet you both at the bank!” He shouts, jumping off the building with a laugh as Miles watched Y/n swing away, turning to Miguel with a confused look on his face while the other sighs deeply. “He’s just giving you a reason to make a good entrance.”

To show the city that their hero has returned while Miles slowly smiles at the idea of Y/n using himself as bait in order to “lure” Spider-Man out, knowing damn well that he was speaking to him not too long ago. “Want to help me?” Miles asks Miguel as the older hero raises a brow in surprise before his lips twitch into a grin. “He won’t go easy on us.”

“How about a bet?” Miles stands from his spot. “Whoever catches him first gets my moms special empanadas.”

“Your mothers empanadas are good, better than Y/n’s.”

Miles laughs. “Don’t let him know that you said that or he will kill you!” He shouted as he too jumps off the clock tower, using his hoodie to hide his face as he swung back home to pick up his spider suit that he left lying in his bedroom, stepping inside the room as he quickly changed into the suit with Miguel waiting outside for him.

“Come on kid, we don’t have much time if we wish to catch Noir.” Said Miguel, sticking his head in the window with his mask still off while waiting for Miles who struggled with putting his suit on. “Yeah just give me a second!” He grunts while trying to slip on his suit while Miguel watched the teen struggle with putting it on, reminding him why he changed his own suit design to nanotechnology, making it easier to use.

“Miles—“

“Done!”

“What the fuck?!”

Both Miles and Miguels eyes widen as they turn towards Miles bedroom door that was thrown open. “Hello, Mrs. Morales.”

#male reader #miguel o’hara x male reader #miguel spiderman #miguel o’hara x reader #black cat au #black cat reader #black cat marvel #au #crossover #found family #black cat series #BlackCat tag

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