#I just felt hurt because he couldn’t do something pretty basic
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am I being delusional and over dramatic
#for Valentine’s Day this year I decided to celebrate with my bf#since we usually don’t do anything I wanted to be the one to change that habit because it was starting to bother me and upset me#so I spend money on waxing myself buying lingerie making chocolate peanut butter heart shaped cups I bought a giant heart shaped steak#bought some nice oil for us to use#cook him dinner#we have a good time most of the day#when I originally got to his house he had a balloon tied to some chocolates#and I was like wow he actually did get me something#but turns out his sister bought it for him to give to me#and when he told me that it really kinda upset me a little#I immediately started spiraling mentally because my feelings were hurt#and it’s so silly how quick my mood changes#because I don’t know if I’m over reacting#I just felt hurt because he couldn’t do something pretty basic#he makes a lot of money#and this isn’t about money but I spent over half my paycheck on these items just because I wanted to show appreciation to him#I wanted this year to be different#we have been together for 7 years pretty much#I want to celebrate our love especially on a day where you have an excuse to do that#I know we don’t have a traditional relationship like most couples#but sometimes I want to do cheesy shit#I have expressed this to him#he shows love in other ways but ultimately I feel very unloved#am I being dramatic#am I being crazy I also have very low self esteem#he does like me#anyway we got into an arguement towards the end of the night and it just ruinned everything#I spent the whole day today depressed thinking about maybe if I didn’t say anything we would be fine#🦷
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‘pretty when you cry’
⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ ‘old’ logan howlett x crybaby f! reader
‘don’t say you need me if, you live last, you're leaving —
i can't do it, but you do it best
‘cause i’m pretty when i cry’ — pretty when you cry - lana del rey
summary ;
basically just old man logan & his lil crybaby girl<3
content warnings ;
light ddlg if you squint, piv, size difference, age play/younger & smaller reader implied, corruption kink, oral sex (f receiving), slight overstimulation
old man logan, who both loves and hates having his sweet girl crumble in his arms.
by now, he feels like the only thing he’s good for is ruining. killing. tainting. that’s what he did with you, tainted your damn innocence. and now he hates how big he is compared to you, hates how he always feels like he has to hold back in fear of hurting you, hates how he tries to be gentle with you because you always end up crying in his arms no matter what.
he could be between your spread thighs, scruff brushing against your inner thighs as his tongue works against your heated core, sucking onto your clit whilst you completely crumble — thighs squeezing and trembling around his head, sniffles, whimpers and broken moans leaving your parted lips, tears starting to drip down your cheeks as you pant, the sight making logan pull away as he looks up at you from his glasses, that by now had slipped to the bridge of his nose that you always so badly wanted to kiss.
“baby, baby— hey, look at me darlin’..” he would croon, your sweet taste still clinging onto his tongue as he shifted up to grab your face, watching your pretty glazed eyes full of tears for him: looking up at him. “l-lo..” you would sniffle, voice no more than a broken whimper and it tugged at his heart.
“did i do something wrong? was it too much?” his gruff voice, laced with worry — asked. and god, yes, it was too much: but in the best way possible. you just didn’t know how to explain that you couldn’t help the tears that would take over you when something felt too good.
“n-nothing wrong, lo— just.. just a lot..” you would huff, stomach fluttering as logan would sigh at your words: bringing up a rough thumb to swipe your salty tears away: the other gently tugging your panties back up. “damn it, darlin’. givin’ me a damn heart attack everytime you sob like that, makes me feel like i hurt ya.”
“c’mon. let’s just lay together for a while. probably be better for ya, sweet thing.”
old man logan, who, after a while, would begin to understand that his girl just couldn’t help her pretty tears and sobs. it was a part of her that only he got to see after all, and that’s what made it special.
he began to love having that power over you. loved having the ability to be fucking into you, pretty legs wrapped around his hips perfectly, nails scratching along his shoulders and back where you could reach, your desperate moans mingled with choked sobs ricocheting off the apartment walls — your nails leaving cat like scratches that started to heal in a short while as they weren’t deep wounds — but they still made him groan. one of his hands, the one not on your waist to keep a steady grip on you, moving up to grab your small wrist to stop you; his hand wrapping around it no problem. “easy, baby. i’m tryna be gentle here, but you’re really pushin’ it.” he would grunt, bringing your wrist down up next to your head, easily using that for leverage to keep on his slow and deep pace into you.
“gosh, darlin’, don’t go cryin’ for me right now..” he would groan, watching as you sobbed even more, trying to slow his pace more than it already was to scoop you up into his arms, keeping your smaller body cradled in them as he soothed your sobs with gentle ‘shh’s’ — hips still fucking into yours at a steady pace, just enough to have you trembling under him and for your cries to choke up in your throat with pretty moans, a familiar heat starting to build up in your lower tummy as it made your walls flutter around his thick cock. “uh— mmph, gonna.. gonna cum, lo—“ you would whimper, small hands squirming under his bigger ones, his grip only getting tighter on your soft wrists.
“that right? my baby’s gonna cum for me? gonna cum all over my cock like the sweet girl she is?” logan would grunt, using the best of his force to fuck into you just enough to find your little gummy spot, the one that sent shivers through your small body and made you let out a sob that broke off into a moan as you felt your orgasm quickly take over — hips trembling under his, sweet pussy squeezing around his cock as much as it could as your juices leaked onto him.
“fuck, doll.” he would huff, glancing down and pulling out just enough to see your pretty pussy — flushed and dripping for him, your sniffled cries filling the room once more as you tried to recover.
“gonna be a good girl and finish me off now too?”
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a scripture on having a certain pretty gambler as your boyfriend ; aventurine
summary — radiant and gleaming, dating him feels like basking under the golden glow of the sun, with the promise of the serene and starlit night ahead.
pairing — aventurine (w/ gender-neutral reader)
tags — established relationship, fluff, him as your boyfriend basically, there are no spoilers dwww, i never proofread, 1.2k words ; headcanons
note — congratulations to honkai star rail for being the only game to have aventurine!! this is day 2 of writing for this man until i have him.
Aventurine couldn’t abandon the person that he used to be so he carried him in his hands. Always hesitant, afraid, and seemingly detached from everyone he meets—this is why he seems so distant and disconnected from you at first despite being in a relationship with him. Although he lives his whole life gambling, believing that everything happens and the outcomes gained are due to luck, he’s meticulously careful and cautious just to not get too attached to you lest he gets hurt in the end (he has dealt with the sight of people’s backs as they walk away from him multiple times).
It will take time for him to completely warm up and be vulnerable to you. Although there are moments that he lets the facade slip and he lays himself bare, moments where it’s just you and him in the silence, moments where you comfort him after a nightmare that disturbs his sleep; he doesn’t ask for comfort nor assurance often but you always seem to know when he needs it.
Aventurine loves it whenever you gently comb your hand through his hair. Even if he wasn’t vocal about the matter, you’ll know from the way he immediately relaxes under your touch as you rake your fingers through his locks. It just gives him a sense of comfort, finding serenity and affection in such a small act of intimacy; it reminds him of how simple everything could be (oh, how he wishes it was) with just the loving touch of your hands.
He’s not exactly a morning person but would always wake up early, occasionally before you do. It’s either because he has to leave for work early or it just so happens that he woke up just as the sun was rising. If he has to get ready soon, he’ll take a few minutes of his time to admire you as you sleep, to trace the bridge of your nose slowly and carefully so as to not wake you, to draw and follow the outlines of your features with his eyes. But if he has no plans for today, he’ll stay in bed with you and eventually, fall asleep once more. He holds you so close and so tight (but not tight enough to suffocate you) that it’s hard to slip away from his grasp.
You feel a pair of soft lips on your forehead, the kiss lingering for a moment until you flutter your eyes open. “Are you awake now, sleepy?”
“Mmh…” You grumble, your vision adjusts to your surroundings as you blink multiple times. You could see Aventurine getting dressed, putting on his expensive tailored-coat.
“You’re leaving already? Why did you not wake me up?”
“You looked like you were having a nice dream.”
MATCHING PAJAMAS (heck yeah!!). The time when he saw you wearing one of his pajamas, it felt like something had been flipped inside of him and the thought of getting you one for your own that matches his fills each and every corner of his mind. Although all of the matching things you have with him are not just limited to pajamas—it can range from matching jewelry, matching charms, matching clothing, matching glasses, matching everything. God, he goes into a store, sees something that he likes and asks the staff if they have another one but in a different color that you like.
Perhaps you have never noticed (or maybe you have) but he never wears his glasses whenever he’s around you—when there’s only you and him. There was no need to hide anything from you, not when you adore all parts of his being. He melts whenever you compliment him (he’s a sucker for such words of affection) especially when it’s his eyes, loves the way you look at him as if he was everything you wish for.
He’ll often play games with you or initiate a bet but somehow, he has more losses than wins. “You’re cheating!” You’ll say, pointing at him as if you were an attorney from a game that objects to a statement. Aventurine, however, would stare at you in disbelief (though he’s just feigning innocence) and would answer with a raised eyebrow: “How am I the one cheating when you’re winning?” To which you’ll respond with: “That’s because you’re letting me win. You’re not playing fair, Aven.”
SPOILS YOU A LOT and when I say a lot, I mean A LOT. Everything you'll ask for or even just mention in passing, he'll provide. He randomly sends you pockets of money, a notification on your phone lighting up your screen and the text says: You have received 100, 000 credits. You have to get used to it—it’s one of the ways that he shows his affection to you. He wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer whenever he gives you something either, so, you have to take it or else you’ll have to deal with a sulky man the whole day.
Don’t worry though as he ensures that everything that he buys and gets for you is something you would like—expensive meaningless gifts will always be meaningless, he would rather give you a cheap yet beautiful charm that is of your favorite color or flower than an expensive shiny necklace made out of gold and adorned with diamonds which you’ll never wear because it’s too heavy on your neck or it’s not your preference.
On that note, he also likes seeing you wear the things he bought for you. Maybe it’s obvious, maybe it’s not, but he likes to dress you up, likes to see you put on the clothes he picks for you. Dates where he brings you to a boutique to pick clothes together (for both you and him), dress up, and ask each other if they look good is not so rare between you two. It’s silly but the two of you would end up giggling like children when the other would strike a ridiculous pose to show off what they're wearing (and also, with the intention to make one another laugh); he lives for and craves these moments with you.
Brings you together with him to casinos and lets you watch him while he plays as he regards you as his lucky charm (when he’s actually the one who is lucky here). Whenever he wins a game or a bet, he asks for a kiss from you—he taps on his cheek as an indication of his request but he will not force you if you don’t wish to express such affections in public, rather he’ll ask for something else instead like maybe a smile or ask that you hold his hand. Sometimes, if you’re curious enough, he’ll teach you the fundamentals of the game and what you can do to win. The look of pride on his face says it all as he watches you win and your opponent falls to the floor (you just put someone in debt).
The amount of endearing names that he calls you. If ever you get flustered whenever he calls you with those affectionate endearments, he’ll take the chance to tease you, to repeatedly call you with such names until you throw a pillow or any object at him—he catches it though but will apologize while laughing, saying that he won’t do it again.
You have to be understanding and gentle with him, careful as you tread the light, lest you fall into the dark and see that the tall and strong walls he built around himself is nothing compared to the broken and fragile pieces that are sewn on his skin, and he will leave (out of fear, out of anxiety, out of grief, out of self-hatred). But it’s alright, everything will be, you’ll embrace him even in the abyss and you’ll guide him back to your warmth.
© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works
#honkai#honkai star rail x reader#hsr x reader#honkai imagines#honkai x reader#honkai star rail#hsr#star rail#hsr aventurine x reader#aventurine#star rail aventurine#hsr aventurine#aventurine x reader#aventurine honkai star rail#aventurine hsr#aventurine imagines#aventurine x you#hsr x you#hsr fluff#aventurine fluff#azul.writes
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F1 driver!Rafe x Reader! As someone that loves watching F1, I'm so happy you're doing this, and damn fans can be vicious sometimes so it gave me an idea. Maybe Reader is getting hate online, with jelaousy comments, saying that ''she's not pretty enough, she's so basic looking, I don't understand what he sees in her, I guess anyone has a chance with Rafe,''. And gradually the words get to her, making her really self concious when she's around him in public, girls near him that are (in her opinion) prettier and eventuallys she tries to break up with him, but he does not let her (not in a toxic way, more so because he loves her and isn't going to let anyone come between them)
Public eye || F1 driver!Rafe Cameron x fem!reader
A/n: So sorry this took awhile!!!!!! But thank you for the request it was sm fun to write :)
Warnings: angst, mental health struggles, bullying and online harassment, if theres anything else lmk!
Word count: 2, 946
MASTERLIST (F1 driver!Rafe x fem!reader au masterlist)
Your fingers hovered hesitantly over the comment section of the video, your heart beating just a little faster as you stared at the screen. The clip, a simple moment of you and Rafe walking into the paddock, was already gathering attention. He was beside you, his hand casually draped over your shoulder as you both made your way through the crowd, looking every bit like a power couple.
You could still hear the soft hiss of the shower jets from the bathroom, Rafe taking his time to wash off the stress of the race. You should have been doing something productive, but the pull of curiosity was too strong. Lately, your presence on social media had been growing—both the praise and the hate.
You’d never been one to look at the comments, always avoiding the spotlight, but today… something felt different. You clicked on the comment section, your thumb hovering nervously over the screen as you scrolled down. The first few comments were harmless, even flattering. “You two are perfect together,” one said. “Her smile is contagious,” said another.
Your lips curved into a faint smile as you read through them, the warmth of their compliments offering a brief comfort. For a moment, you forgot about the nagging feeling building in your chest. But then the tone shifted. You could feel your stomach tighten as the first negative comment appeared. “She looks so out of place with him,” one user wrote, followed by another comment: “She doesn’t belong in paddock.”
Your fingers trembled slightly, but you tried to push the discomfort aside. It was just one comment. You kept scrolling. More criticisms followed. Someone commented on your outfit: “Why does she dress like that? She looks like she’s trying too hard.” Another user posted, “She looks so stiff next to him. Does she even smile?” A sharp sting pierced your chest, and you tried to shake it off, but it wasn’t easy.
You’d spent so much time trying to dress right, trying to look the part, but now it felt like none of it mattered. “Her resting face is so rude,” one person said. Another added, “She looks miserable. Why does she always look so cold around Rafe?” You couldn’t help but feel your stomach drop. You knew you had a more serious expression, but it hurt to see it picked apart like this, as if your face wasn’t enough.
You quickly scrolled past more hurtful comments, but the damage had already been done. The video, which had once seemed like a simple moment between you and Rafe, now felt like an invasion of your privacy, like everyone was judging you. You glanced back at the bathroom door, where the sound of Rafe still hummed softly from the shower, completely unaware of the thoughts swirling in your head.
Your hands tightened around your phone, and you felt the familiar weight of insecurities settling in. You weren’t sure why this time felt worse than before. Maybe it was the fact that you were constantly being compared to Rafe’s world now, his fame, his fans, his life in the spotlight. It felt suffocating at times, and the negativity from strangers only made it worse.
You took a shaky breath, trying to pull yourself together. This wasn’t about you. It was about Rafe, and his world. You tried to convince yourself that you didn’t need their validation, but the ache in your chest remained. Before you could sink any deeper into the spiral of your thoughts, the bathroom door creaked open, and Rafe’s voice, still heavy with the sound of water dripping, called out to you.
“Hey, everything alright?” Rafe’s voice was soft as he stepped into the room, the steam from his shower trailing behind him. His towel hung low on his hips, droplets of water still clinging to his skin. His brows furrowed slightly when his eyes landed on you, the tension in your posture giving you away. You swallowed hard, quickly flipping your phone face-down on the bed as you forced a small, unconvincing smile.
“Yeah, just… tired. It’s been a long day.” Rafe didn’t seem entirely convinced. His gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, his lips pressing into a thin line as if he were debating whether to push further. Instead, he let it slide, disappearing into the closet to grab a pair of boxers. When he returned, his tone was casual, though there was an edge of curiosity in his voice.
“Did you want to walk in with me tomorrow?” he asked, tossing the towel into the hamper before slipping on boxers. He moved with practiced ease, his body language as relaxed as ever. It was a question you’d heard countless times before, something routine between the two of you, but tonight, it felt heavier. Different. You nibbled on your bottom lip, his question tugging you back to the comments you’d just read.
She looks out of place next to him… She doesn’t belong there. The words replayed in your head like a taunting echo. You hesitated before replying, your voice quieter than usual. Your fingers toyed with the edge of the duvet as you hesitated. “Uh, I think I’ll come a bit after,” you said finally, trying to sound casual, though the slight tremor in your voice betrayed you. Rafe paused for a moment, his head tilting slightly as he considered your answer.
His brows furrowed just enough to show that he noticed the shift in your tone, but he didn’t push. Instead, he hummed in acknowledgment, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before he climbed into bed. Once settled, he turned his attention back to you, his head propped on his hand as he studied your face. “You sure you’re okay?” he asked again, his voice softer now, laced with genuine concern.
You nodded quickly, your smile brighter this time, though it still didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Yeah. I promise, I’m fine,” you said, hoping the words sounded convincing. But even as you said them, your mind was still swirling with doubt, the insecurities clawing at the edges of your composure. Rafe didn’t seem entirely convinced, but he let it slide for now. Instead, he reached out and tugged you gently toward him, his arms wrapping around your body in a warm, familiar embrace.
His lips brushed softly against your temple before trailing down to your shoulder. “I love you,” he murmured, his voice low and steady, like an anchor. A shaky breath escaped your lips as you nestled into his chest, the comfort of his presence momentarily dulling the ache in your heart. “I love you too,” you whispered back, your voice almost trembling.
~
Walking into the paddock alongside Rafe’s PR manager, Mia, you couldn’t shake the weight of countless eyes on you. It felt suffocating, as though everyone’s gaze was dissecting your every move, every expression. The hum of chatter and camera shutters blended into an almost deafening background noise, and you couldn’t help but wonder what they were saying—or thinking.
Were they silently judging you? Waiting for you to stumble, to make some minor misstep they could pounce on? The thought sent a sharp pang of anxiety through your chest. It wasn’t just paranoia; you’d seen how quickly narratives could form online, how a single bad photo could spiral into accusations and labels. If you weren’t smiling enough, they’d say you were cold, ungrateful. If you stood too close to Rafe, they’d call you clingy. Too far, and you’d seem distant, uninterested.
Your grip on your paddock pass tightened, glancing briefly at Mia, who was confidently walking ahead, her phone in hand, seemingly oblivious to the tension building inside you. She had a way of carrying herself that made it seem like none of this affected her—like the noise bounced off her shield of professionalism. You envied her for that. The click of a camera somewhere to your left made your heart skip a beat.
You didn’t dare look, afraid of what expression might’ve been caught. You straightened your posture instead, forcing a faint smile that felt unnatural, plastered on for the sake of appearances. The effort felt exhausting, but it was what you’d learned to do in this world—pretend you didn’t notice, pretend it didn’t hurt. As you walked, you could feel whispers trailing in your wake, the murmurs mingling with the mechanical hum of the paddock.
Were they talking about your outfit? Your hair? The fact that you weren't walking in with Rafe? It was a never-ending game of scrutiny, and you felt like a chess piece on a board you barely understood. "Hey, are you good?" Mia's voice pulled you out of your spiraling thoughts. Her tone was light, accompanied by a small chuckle as she caught the distant look in your eyes.
You blinked rapidly, turning to her with a startled expression. “Sorry, what?” you asked, your voice slightly shaky. She chuckled again, tilting her head curiously. “Are you okay? You seem nervous,” she repeated, her eyes scanning your face as the two of you approached the Ferrari area. “Yeah! Yeah—I’m fine, just jet lagged,” you replied quickly, your tone a little too chipper to be convincing. You added a casual shrug for good measure, hoping it would sell the lie.
Mia’s gaze lingered for a moment, but she slowly nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Alright, if you say so. I’ve got to go organise Rafe for his interview. Will you be okay by yourself? I think Austin’s around here somewhere,” she said, glancing around the bustling paddock. “Yeah, of course, go ahead. I’ll look for him,” you assured her with a polite smile.
She nodded, giving you a quick wave before disappearing into the chaos, leaving you alone amidst the buzz of mechanics, media personnel, and fans. You continued walking, your eyes darting around in search of a familiar face. The usual hum of the paddock felt louder now, almost oppressive, as you noticed more phones and cameras turning in your direction. A knot tightened in your stomach.
Normally, you could brush it off, but today the weight of their stares was unbearable. Biting your bottom lip nervously, you quickened your pace, practically darting into the safety of the Ferrari garage. The moment you stepped inside, a voice called out to you, making you pause. “Y/n!” Relief flooded your chest as you spotted Austin waving you over from the balcony of the hospitality area.
“Hey!” you greeted him warmly, embracing him in a quick hug. “Rafe should be done with his interview pretty soon,” Austin said, glancing at his watch. You hummed in response, setting your things down on the table before joining him at the railing. The two of you leaned against it, looking down at the sea of people navigating the paddock below. “Yeah, Rafe and I were planning to head back to OBX for a week after—”
Your words trailed off as your eyes froze on a group of girls huddled together, their phones unmistakably aimed in your direction. Their whispering and laughter sent a chill through you, making your shoulders stiffen visibly. Noticing your silence, Austin followed your gaze. His brows furrowed in concern. “You okay?” he asked, his voice soft but probing.
You swallowed hard, tearing your eyes away from the girls. “I-uh—I’ll just sit down for a bit,” you muttered, moving back toward the table. Austin watched you carefully, his confusion evident. “Do you know them?” You shook your head, avoiding his gaze. After a moment, he sighed, his tone shifting to something more knowing. “Have you been reading comments again?”
The question made your head snap up, your eyes meeting his. You didn’t respond, but your silence was enough. “Y/n,” he said gently, pulling out a chair across from you and sitting down. “You know those are just jealous people who wish they were in your position, right?” “I know,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “But they still hurt, Austin.”
“I know they do,” he admitted, leaning forward. “But think about it—what they’re saying about you… Is any of it true?” You bit your lip, your gaze dropping to your phone as you hesitated. “They’re not,” Austin continued firmly. “Because they don’t even know you. But we do. Rafe does. Don’t let them get to you. They’re just miserable people trying to make someone else miserable too.”
His words sunk in, easing some of the tightness in your chest. A small smile crept onto your lips, the warmth of his reassurance breaking through the cloud of doubt. “Thanks, Austin. I really appreciate it,” you said, your voice softer now but filled with genuine gratitude. He grinned back, leaning back in his chair with an air of casual confidence.
“Anytime. Now, let’s get you smiling again before Rafe gets back, or he’ll never let me hear the end of it.” You chuckled lightly, feeling just a little lighter as the weight of those comments began to fade, replaced by the comfort of a friend who truly understood.
~
The jets in the bathroom continued to hum, the sound blending into the background as you stared at your phone screen, your chest tightening with every cruel word you read. The image of you and Rafe walking into the paddock, so innocuous and routine, had somehow become the catalyst for a torrent of negativity.
Your throat constricted, and you bit down hard on your bottom lip, trying to keep the tears at bay. But it was too much. The weight of their words pressed on you, an avalanche of insecurities crashing down. You dropped your phone onto the bed as though it had burned you, standing there frozen for a moment, your hands trembling.
The bathroom door creaked open, and Rafe stepped out, a towel slung low on his hips, droplets of water clinging to his skin. His carefree, post-shower demeanour faltered the moment his eyes landed on you. “Hey,” he said cautiously, stepping closer. “What’s wrong?” You shook your head, quickly wiping at your cheeks, but the tears had already betrayed you. “Nothing, I’m fine.”
“Don’t lie to me.” His tone was firmer now, his blue eyes scanning your face for answers. He glanced at your phone lying facedown on the bed, and his expression hardened as he pieced it together. “Did you read the comments again?” The lump in your throat grew, and you couldn’t speak, your silence confirming his suspicion.
Rafe let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his damp hair. “Y/n, why do you let them get to you? They’re just a bunch of—” “It’s not just them, Rafe!” you snapped, cutting him off. The words spilled out before you could stop them, sharp and heavy. “This is my life now—being constantly judged, criticised, compared. It’s exhausting. I can’t do this anymore.”
His brows furrowed in confusion and alarm. “What are you saying?” “I’m saying I can’t be with you anymore,” you said, your voice breaking as the words left your lips. “I don’t think I can do this anymore.” Rafe’s face fell, his confident façade cracking in an instant. “What? No. No, that’s not happening.” “Rafe—”
“No!” He stepped closer, his voice low but desperate. “You’re not doing this because of a bunch of idiots online who don’t know anything about us.” “It’s not just them!” you cried, the dam of emotions finally breaking. “It’s everything! The constant attention, the pressure, the way people look at me like I’m not good enough for you. And maybe they’re right! Maybe I’m not!”
“Don’t you dare say that,” he interrupted, his voice rough with emotion. He reached for your hands, holding them tightly even as you tried to pull away. “You are good enough. You’re more than good enough, Y/n.” “I can’t keep living like this, Rafe,” you whispered, tears streaming down your face. “I feel like I’m losing myself.
Rafe’s grip on your hands tightened as if letting go would make your words true. “I don’t care what they say. None of it matters to me. You matter. You’re the only thing that matters.” Your lips trembled as you looked into his eyes, the sincerity there almost too much to bear. “But what if I can’t handle it?” “Then I’ll help you handle it,” he said firmly, his voice softening as he pulled you closer.
“You’re not doing this alone. I love you, Y/n. I don’t care what those people think. They mean nothing to me—nothing.” You let out a shaky breath as his words washed over you, your resolve weakening under the weight of his conviction. Rafe cupped your face gently, his thumbs wiping away your tears. “Please don’t do this,” he whispered, his voice breaking slightly. “We’ll get through it together. I promise.”
For a long moment, you just stood there, your forehead resting against his as you tried to steady your breathing. The pain was still there, raw and jagged, but so was the love in his voice, in his touch. “I don’t know if I can be enough,” you whispered. “You already are,” he replied without hesitation. “You’ve always been enough for me.” And somehow, in his arms, the weight of the world felt just a little lighter.
#f1 driver!rafe cameron x fem!reader#f1 driver rafe cameron#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#fanfiction#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron x you#drew starkey x y/n#drew starkey#outer banks#drew starkey x reader#obx fanfiction#f1 rafe cameron au#f1 driver au#f1 x reader#rafe cameron au#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron obx#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x kook!reader#rafe cameron x fem!reader#outerbanks rafe#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron fanfic#rafe cameron angst#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe obx#obx rafe cameron
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𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 | boyfriend's dad!cillian murphy x reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | for some reason, your first instinct after the breakup was to talk to his parents; maybe because you'd come sort of uniquely close to them, for a relatively short relationship. you might not have gone to their house if you'd known you'd find mr. murphy there alone...
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 4k
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | SMUT (18+ ONLY!! unprotected sex, creampie, oral m and f receiving), age gap (reader's age unspecified, cillian is 45+), hurt/comfort (but, you know, sexual comfort), infidelity, slight manipulation/coercion since the reader is very vulnerable at the time, somewhat inexperienced reader, degradation and praise, a little bit of breathplay, hair pulling, slight dacryphilia?, reader is slightly implied to be an immigrant/foreigner
note: yes I use his real name but this is just fiction and not meant to have anything to do with the real cillian murphy or his life/family so please keep that in mind!
He had a smile on his face as he opened the door and greeted you, but it fell instantly when he saw you biting down on your quivering lip, looking down to hide how red and watery your eyes were.
"What's wrong, sweetheart?" he asked, voice heavy with concern as he reached out and rubbed your shoulder. "Oh, god— come in, come in— what's going on?"
He ushered you into the house, shutting the door behind you and wrapping his arm around you as you sniffled. "I-I'm sorry—" you began instantly. “I thought— I don’t know why I even came here…”
But, actually, you sort of did. You’d been wanting to talk to Cillian’s wife, hoping for some motherly advice, until he answered the door and you abruptly remembered she was in England on business for a week or something. And you couldn’t exactly show up on somebody’s doorstep crying and say ‘oh, sorry, I thought your wife would be home— I’ll come back in a few days’.
You weren’t disappointed by running into him instead, really, you just felt a little weirder about it. The two of you had never actually been alone before.
"Don't apologise," he soothed, "it's okay, just tell me what's happened. Are you alright?"
"Yeah," you sighed, trying to compose yourself a bit as he guided you to sit on the couch with him. "Yeah, I'm okay, I just... um, well, it's sort of stupid—"
"I'm sure it's not," he offered with a small laugh, "if it's got you this worked up."
"We, um... I think we broke up?"
"What?" he breathed, knitting his eyebrows together— he cared more than you expected... but it sort of made sense, Mr. Murphy had always made you feel welcome here. Mrs. Murphy too, maybe ina different way. Yes, it's bizarre to respond to being dumped by going to visit the guy's parents, you needed a sort of... mature, familial presence right now while you were so far from your own.
You took him through the whole drama as efficiently as possible, trying to regulate your crying so he could actually attempt to make out what you were saying. He listened thoughtfully, perhaps with too much attention compared to what you expected— after all, this was stupid college drama and he was so much more mature than all that. Still, you appreciated a listening ear and a shoulder to cry on.
"And, uh, that's how he ended it," you finished with a sigh, sniffling as you recalled the heartbreaking conversation. "He basically told me that he's too young to be stuck with one person, and he needs to 'explore his options'..."
"Then he's an idiot," Cillian groaned, "and I hate to say that about my own son— but he's a fuckin' idiot."
"Well," you mumbled, "I don't know— I thought maybe he had a point. I mean, we're pretty young..."
"But look at you, honey," he offered pityingly, "you can't tell me this is what you wanted."
"No, but—"
"And yes, you're young," he added, "but not too young— not if it's real."
You bit your lip to stop it from shaking any more, and he cooed at you gently as he reached up to rub your shoulder.
“Poor girl,” he breathed. “Honestly, I always… well, maybe I shouldn’t say it now…”
You looked up at him expectantly, and he smiled nervously as he glanced away.
“Well… I guess I always thought that you could do better,” he admitted with a soft laugh, “but, you know, I didn’t want to say anything, of course. He was lucky to have you, and I just hoped he would treat you right, but…”
“I thought I was the lucky one,” you replied with a thin smile and another little sniffle. “He could be really sweet, you know— he used to be. And I always thought he was, uh, sort of… you know, out of my league.”
“Oh, honey, no,” Cillian frowned, moving his hand up to your face and holding your cheek, wiping a small tear away with his thumb. “You’re gorgeous.”
You laughed awkwardly, not sure what to think— or how to think— with him looking at you like that. “I… I don’t know, you’re sweet, but—”
“No, really,” he assured, and only when you met his gaze did you realise how close he was. You wouldn’t call it too close, only because it didn’t bother you like you knew it should. “You’re so beautiful.”
You opened your mouth to say something, but nothing actually came out… there was nothing to say. He was coming closer, you knew it, and you wanted to reach up to stop him just as much as you wanted to shut your eyes and give into it. You ended up sort of splitting the difference: you rested your hands on his shoulders, but didn’t push him away, and gasped slightly just before he kissed you. Even a second of resistance could’ve given you some plausible deniability, but no, you fluttered your eyes shut and kissed him back; it didn’t help that you could feel how warm and strong he was through the t-shirt, holding on tighter to his shoulders with a hum.
His hands wandered to your waist, pulling you into him— and you were like putty, embarrassingly enough. With him kissing you like that, you really couldn’t do anything but let him pull you around wherever he wanted. His lips were soft and gentle, his tongue teased you so carefully, and he even sighed against your skin in the sweetest way… you were totally helpless already.
Sure, some part of you knew how fucking bizarre this was— that you were kissing Mr. Murphy, your boyfriend’s dad— well… ex-boyfriend’s. You weren’t blind, you noticed how attractive he was when you met him, but you’d managed to successfully ignore it since then. It made sense, after all, since the first thing you’d noticed about your boyfriend was his good looks… but Mr. Murphy was handsome in a totally different way. Strong and broad— not especially massive or anything, still a lean guy— with thin streaks of grey in his hair, a patient sort of smile, subtle wrinkles around his eyes that added a sense of wisdom to his expression… really, he was a bit more of your type. But that was something you had forced yourself not to acknowledge— until now.
You sat up slightly, holding onto his neck, breathing in sharply through your nose as you kissed him back a little harder. You could feel him smiling— god, even just that made you feel so desperate— and he even moaned ever-so-quietly when you ran your fingers through his hair.
“Oh, sweetheart,” he breathed against your lips, breaking away just enough to make you open your eyes— his lashes seemed especially long as he looked down at your legs curled up on the couch (and his hands petting them slowly. “You haven’t been treated properly for a long time, have you?”
You whined in the back of your throat involuntarily as you nodded— how could he see right through you like that? It wasn’t like it was bad with your ex, it was just… not good. Not enough. You wanted to feel wanted, not used— not a means to an end.
“Will you let me?” he asked softly, breathing beside your ear on his way in to kiss your neck. You gasped, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to keep him close, head falling back to give him as much of you as he wanted. His tongue was fucking fiendish, the way he used it to tickle along your pulse, the sharpness of his teeth making you jolt only for him to soothe you with his plush lips.
“Yes,” you panted, “fuck— I, god, I can’t believe we’re doing this…”
He laughed a little. “I can,” he admitted. “All I could fucking think about since I met you…”
That surprised you— you’d never noticed anything that would’ve made you think he thought of you that way… but knowing that he, apparently, had made a shiver run up your spine.
He certainly hid it well, playing the part of the slightly-embarrassing dad and polite husband so well that you never would’ve known… oh god, his wife. You didn’t want to think of her now, yet the unavoidable memory stirred arousal alongside guilt in your gut. You had no idea you were this sort of person— but you weren’t really operating logically right now, anyway.
He held your face again as he pulled back, petting your cheek— it made you feel especially juvenile when he did that, holding your chin to examine you. This wasn’t really the ideal state for you to be looked at, in your opinion, with you having been crying all evening. But he looked amazed by you, even if it was just for a moment before he looked down at your body and smirked.
“Take this off,” he instructed, tugging at your shirt slightly. You thought it would’ve been a little more romantic if he helped you out of it, but it was alternatively a bit sexier that he was just going to sit back and watch you strip for him. It must have been his way of demonstrating his power over you, that you were just going to take it off and toss it aside without question. Which, of course, you did.
He smiled proudly at the sight, and before you could even get your bra off, he started to carefully tease you through it— fingers running around the edge, moving the straps off your shoulders, tickling up your sides as you shifted nervously on the couch.
“Look’t that,” he whispered proudly, and you took a second to realise that he was referring to your nipples getting hard enough to poke visibly through the fabric; you felt self-conscious all of a sudden, even if he was clearly enjoying what he was seeing. “So needy, huh?”
“Y-yeah,” you admitted, whining when he reached inside the cups and ran his fingers over your breasts— they usually weren’t so sensitive. “Fuck,” you breathed, shutting your eyes as a way to try to escape his gaze. “I… I need you.”
“Fuck, baby, don’t talk like that,” he groaned, “m’gonna try to take my time with you— how am I supposed to do that if you say such lovely things?”
His lips were on your neck again— and he was leaning you back, laying you down under him, tugging your shorts down with a bit more urgency than he’d had before.
When you were basically naked— or at least, your bra and panties pushed out of the way enough that he could see what he needed to— he purred at the sight, grinning as you hastily undressed yourself the rest of the way.
"Of course he couldn't appreciate this," Cillian sighed, baring his teeth just a bit. "Of course he couldn't appreciate a perfect fucking body like this— a perfect little pussy like this..."
You were about to open your mouth to say something, though you hadn't even decided yet what it would be, but only a low moan came out when he held your legs open and dove between them, humming as he lapped at your clit. You couldn't imagine why you were so sensitive, but your whole body was shaking already just from the gentlest motions of his tongue...
"Fuck," he said, muffled against your skin, before he pulled back enough to bite playfully on your thigh. "Fuck, darling, you taste delicious. Christ. You're too perfect..."
He devoured you again, exploring all over you with his tongue as your thighs kept instinctively clamping down on his head. He kept looking up at you through it all, even when you couldn't stand to meet his gaze and had to arch your back from the pleasure. "Fuck!" you yelped, grabbing tightly onto his hair. "Fuck, Mr. Murphy, I— oh, god..."
"He never made you come like this, did he?" Cillian realised with a groan, nearly growling when you shook your head. "Has anyone?"
"N-no," you shakily admitted, and he moaned around you as he suckled harder on your clit for a moment until you whined loudly.
"Oh, poor thing," he cooed, "how could anyone taste this sweet cunt of yours, and not want to spend hours between your legs?"
He didn’t need to spend hours, though— the taboo nature of the situation seemed to turn your body into overdrive, making you so sensitive and desperate… or maybe that was just the effect he had on you, but it was hard to say.
The point is, all too soon, you were shivering under him, back arching up off the couch, holding on tightly to his hair. He hummed approvingly, even moaning against you as he slid his tongue inside; he must have been able to feel you pulsing, moving closer and closer to the edge, because he shut his eyes tight and seemed to focus harder and pushing you further until you couldn’t take anymore.
“Fuck, fuck!” you sobbed, thighs shaking around his head; there really was no exploration to it, no teasing, he just went right in and expertly played you like he’d done this a thousand times. Maybe he had… but, obviously, he’d never done it to you. Were you that easy to solve?
Obviously, that question suddenly became the last thing on your mind as your orgasm wracked through you. He growled encouragingly, still keeping his pace, but you could barely hear it past the ringing in your ears— and your own cries of his name, of course.
He only broke away when your squirms turned into real avoidance: you could only take so much, especially with him suckling on your clit like that.
You were almost nervous to open your eyes again— and you were right, he looked so gorgeous between your legs, obviously smug with having just made you come, it was nearly criminal.
“Is it really that easy to make you come, honey?” he laughed, petting your legs sweetly as he pulled back, looking up at you with a proud grin. “That’s so fucking cute, baby…”
As he sat up again, wiping the slick off his mouth with the back of his hand, you got this weird, clingy feeling— wanting to chase him even just as he barely moved away.
But he’d sat up for a reason, and you started to realise it when you sat up, too, and noticed the thick bulge in his jeans.
"Why don't you show me what you can do, sweetheart?" he encouraged with a smile, opening his belt for you. "I'm sure you've learned a thing or two..."
Though you still felt terribly nervous about it, you leaned forward towards his lap. Would it be awful to admit your mouth watered when he freed his cock from his jeans and boxers, holding it out for you as a little bead of precum formed at the tip?
"Show me, baby," he whispered again, "and look up at me."
You nervously blinked up at him, meeting his gaze from his lap, as you wrapped your lips around his swollen head. He bit his lip right away and reached up to hold onto your hair, groaning as you swirled your tongue.
"Fuck," he smirked, "you're sort of a tease, aren't you?"
You weren't trying to be, really, but it didn't sound like he minded too much...
"Oh, fuck," he moaned deeply, making you pulse inside as he tilted his head back. "Fuck, baby, that's good— your mouth is so fucking warm..."
He gasped and panted as he held your head, guiding it to bob just a little faster than you had been moving. "Sweetheart," he choked, "you're so fucking good... fuck!"
The praise made your chest fill with warmth, even if there was still some part of your brain that was recovered enough from the orgasm to remember how horrible this all was. It was horrible, but perfect— and feeling his cock throb against your tongue was perfect, too.
You’d never been told you were so good at this before, but he kept moaning and petting your head encouragingly, whispering the most wonderful and filthy things. “Just like that, honey,” he cooed, “mm— pretty thing… knew that mouth of yours would feel so fuckin’ good… just keep sucking my cock, sweetheart.”
That you did— harder and faster, stroking what your mouth couldn’t fit, moaning softly around him. As you tried to take it deeper, desperate to please him, you gagged on his thick head.
“God, it’s so cute when you choke on it, baby,” he chuckled. “Do it again.”
This time it was almost too much, but he held your head down and groaned deeply. It would’ve bothered you more— not being able to breathe— if he didn’t sound so sexy right then…
Thankfully, he pulled you off just in time, making you yelp as he held you by your hair— only to kiss you hard, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. Moaning, you melted into his arms, and let him guide you to straddle his lap. Feeling his jeans against your thighs and his shirt against your chest made your heart skip.
He took another long look at you when he broke away, a new darkness in his bright eyes.
“You’re so sexy,” he laughed softly, running his hands over your nude form and raising a brow as he watched goosebumps break out over your skin. “God, I need to be inside you…”
You bit down on your lip but it didn’t do much to suppress your whimper; lifting yourself up a bit, you grasped his cock and slid it through your folds, guiding him to your entrance.
You both gasped when he slipped inside, even when it was the slightest penetration— his whole head wasn’t in yet, and you just knew it would stretch you more than you were used to.
“Oh, fuck,” he moaned loudly, tilting his head back, “you’re so wet, sweetheart…”
Lowering yourself, you took in a shaky breath, whining slightly as he opened you up one inch at a time... and each one seemed somehow thicker than the last. His fingers seemed to dig deeper into the skin at your hips and ass the lower that you sank onto him.
You could barely believe that you took it all; that you relaxed into his lap fully even when you feared being split in half by how thick he was. “Oh my god,” you blurted out, operating on instinct as you started to move— grinding back and forth, desperate for friction despite having been satisfied by his incredible mouth just a few minutes ago.
"Fuck, there you go," he encouraged with a growl, looking down at your hips rocking in his lap. "Ride me, just like that— fuck, ride my cock, little fuckin' whore..."
You whimpered at the insult, holding tighter onto his shoulders, but it only made you move faster. "S-so... so deep, Mr. Murphy," you whimpered.
"Yeah? You can take it," he promised darkly, holding tighter onto your waist as he dropped his head back with a low groan. "God, you're tight— fuck."
You gasped as he bucked his hips up, creating more pressure against your over-sensitive clit. "Oh, fuck," you breathed, struggling to cope with all the sensations he was giving you.
Both of you settled on the right pace, and he switched between resting his head back against the couch (giving you a nice view of his gorgeous neck, how could just a neck be so sexy?!) and looking down to watch you go. “So fuckin’ cute,” he praised— though you were sort of surprised to hear him describe you that way at a time like this. “So needy, honey… you want more, don’t you? You wanna go even faster.”
Now that he said it: yeah, you did. You bounced up and down, your moans coming out all shaky and uneven because of the movement, and he grinned proudly.
His hands wandered up from your waist to your chest, groping you eagerly as you gasped out his name in response. “Love these tits of yours,” he informed you, sounding oddly sweet for how dirty of a compliment it was. “Took everything in me not to stare at them when you’d come over for dinner… see what you do to me, sweetheart? Haven’t felt this desperate since I was your age.”
Oh, he knew exactly what he was doing, reminding you of how much older he was at a time like this. He purred when he felt you clench on him, obviously affected by the comment.
“Should’ve known you’d give in right away,” he went on, softening his voice to nearly a whisper as he watched you move with heavy eyes; you angled your hips back and moaned louder, his cock rubbing against just the right spot every time now. “Hungry little thing like you— now I wish I hadn’t waited so long. We could’ve been doing this the whole time… I could’ve shown you how much better it can be, when somebody really takes care of you.”
Whimpering, you felt another heady pang inside you— if he kept talking like that, you wouldn’t be able to keep your head on straight… then again, the fact that you were here proved that you were less stable than you thought.
“Faster, sweetheart,” he ordered again suddenly. “I wanna see how desperate you can get.”
You furrowed your brows together, almost pouting, but did exactly what he wanted— you wondered if you looked as pathetic as you sounded, riding him recklessly, chasing another peak even when it took all of your strength in those shaking legs.
He grabbed you by the jaw and guided you into another desperate kiss— all teeth and tongue and low moans. “Good fucking girl,” he snarled. “Good little slut.”
“Fuck,” you panted, moving faster. “Fuck, I’m close—”
“I know, honey,” he cooed, nodding as he moved his hand down to your neck. “Show me how bad you need it, sweetheart. Let me see it, I wanna see you come for me.”
Tossing your head back, you cried out his name again— why did you always do that when you came?— and felt it overtake you. It was even heavier than the last one, even more numbing and draining, and you didn’t even notice how hard you were digging your nails into his shoulders.
When your body failed and you came to a shaky stop, he didn’t give you much time to catch your breath: he grabbed you tight, guiding your head to rest on his shoulder, and began to buck his hips up into you quickly.
“Oh my god, oh my god!” you whined, overwhelmed by the feeling, holding onto him tightly just to have something to keep you grounded.
“Fuck, m’gonna come inside you,” he warned with a growl. “Gonna fill you, baby, you’ll be so fuckin’ full of my come—”
You sobbed and buried your face in his neck, starting to cry again for a completely different reason than before.
“Tell me you want it,” he ordered, speaking roughly right against your ear.
“F-fuck, I want it,” you gasped, “I want you to come— fuck— come inside me—”
He choked out a few more swears, he held you tight enough that you started to imagine what his bruises would look like on you tomorrow, and with a low groan of your name, it all suddenly slowed to a stop. You moaned weakly when you felt his cock flexing against your walls, even more heat pooling inside you. With what little energy you had left, you softly kissed his neck— until he seemed to come back to reality and pushed you back enough to be face-to-face with you again.
You realised suddenly that you were still sort of crying from the intensity of it all, and got nervous with him staring at you like that. “I’m sorry,” you sniffled as you wiped your face.
“Don’t apologise,” he told you again, moving your hands away so he could look at you himself. “Besides, you look even cuter when you cry.”
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My father loves me with every inch of his manhood.
real dad leon x virgin reader
🌹 warning: 18+, p in v, oral (m recieving), creampies, incest, size difference, dead dove, tummy bulge, squirting, rape kink, baby trapping, murder, gore, leon’s gross and weird so beware! and enjoy :)
divider credits to @firefly-graphics
Oh, what a mistake she was! Leon felt a fool for thinking she was the one, maybe the sex was satisfying at first but God slicing through her felt even better. Her pussy was never tight enough anyways, and he’s a man with needs. That’s why he made you watch. Pretty little daughter, hardly resembles her whore of a mother. You’re trapped in a cage down in the basement, watching your daddy straddle your mommy.
And flesh was ripping. Audible. Blood was everywhere, flowing. Her eyes were wide. Just like her wounds as he slowly plunged the knife back inside her body. Again, again, and again. Ignoring your muffled cries, stupid silly girl. It’s okay, he had plans for you.
“Dad—daddy, please stop! She’s dead! Mommy’s dead!” You screamed with all your might, but it only earned a raspy chuckle. You were just… so shocked to be disgusted by your father. And even more so when he stood up and grabbed your mother’s hair, shoving her face against the glass you were behind. A gasp leaving your lips, her face was fucked up. You didn’t want to look at it.
You squeezed your eyes shut, hiding behind your palms as you turned away.
“She’s prettier like this, baby. No? You don’t think so?” Leon asked, her neck was slit. A gaping cut, multiple stab wounds over her décolletage. Blood coating her jewellery that he bought her, maybe he’d pass it down to you. That shit was expensive. Plus, you liked pretty things. Pretty girls did. And you were very, very pretty. That’s why he was hard, and it was not because he’d murdered your mother.
Okay, maybe a little bit. He liked the control. He watched you sob, back hunched over that he could see your spine in the cute dress you wore. You were such a sweetheart, your closet consisted of a fashionista’s dream! Heels, frilly socks, garters, purses and accessories. Much better than your mom, she was just basic. At least to him.
“Baby, it’s alright. I love you, that’s all that matters. You don’t need mommy.” He cooed, releasing the grip on her hair and kneeling down, watching as you meekly peeked through to look at him. Soggy tears all clumped together and your lips pouted. He felt his stomach flutter. “Yeah, attagirl. Cm’ere, I’d never hurt you.”
You always wondered why you were just a little bit fucked up in the head, yes mommy’s death hurt but daddy was just so much more important. Mommy couldn’t protect you, her press-ons would probably fall off if she even tried. But daddy was strong and he’d tear down anything to help you. Your shaky hands touched the ground, crawling over to him and pressing your palm against the glass.
“But you hurt mommy.” You doubted. Foolish, right? You expected him to be irritated but his eyes were soft as he looked down at you, but there was something in there. Something dark. Something that wanted to ruin you. He pressed his own palm to the glass, so much bigger than yours. “I miss mom, please… she—she…”
“Shh, don’t worry about her. You gonna let dad come in there with you?” Leon asked, he was dirty with blood but his dick hurt the longer he looked at you. In his eyes, you were perfect. You just needed a little tweaking. His dick could do that.
You looked at your mother’s limp body, wanting to puke. You should’ve hated your dad, but you couldn’t. You actually think you hated your mom a little more, she wasn’t the greatest individual.
Little feet of yours pattered on the ground, you were just a toddler in need of some love. Dad was never around, at least not much. He was gone for weeks at a time, so you’d always go to your mother but she was busy as well. On the phone, talking to Katie. Katie was her best friend since university, and as much as you stood by her legs, grabby hands wanting to be picked up, she paid no mind to you.
“No, no, no. I told her she couldn’t just nitpick about everything, Katie! She just doesn’t listen, and now she wants my advice? That’s not happening.” Your mother scoffed into the phone, hardly sparing you a glance as she shooed you away and leaned against the kitchen counter. “Honestly, I’m glad Mark cheated on her. Maybe that would teach her a lesson.”
Or another time when you were a little older, just beginning elementary school. You were scared. You were never good at socialising, and as your mother opened the car door she ushered you out quickly, still on the phone.
“Oh my, really? That’s great news, I’m sure Graham is a nice guy. Is the ring good? I mean, if he isn’t emptying his wallet on you then he’s probably not going to be a great husband Katie.” Your mother chatted, and you looked up at her, hoping for at least some reassurance.
No, she didn’t care much about you. You were just an annoying addition to the family because Leon wanted children. That’s when she got a little turned off, but she stuck with him because he gave her cash. And while he was off on missions, you observed everything.
Also, the first day wasn’t great. You got bullied.
Teen years you were a little smarter, always eavesdropping on your mother. But she started getting a little TMI with Katie, and you figured it was just the best friend privilege. You didn’t have much of that growing up, kids avoided you.
“He’s perfect, Katie. He has it all, you know? I don’t know why I even bothered with Leon, he’s such a prick sometimes. He doesn’t make any time for me and it’s just frustrating! Like, you know that italian restaurant I told you about? A few months ago, they had an all you can eat and I told him about it and guess what,” your mother rambled, openly admitting her afair. This is where you held a dislike for her deep down because how dare she? “He went on another goddamn mission!”
You thought back to all of that as you stared at your mother’s dead body, maybe dad was right. She deserved this, you don’t know why you felt guilty. So you nodded, and the grim smirk that had crossed his face made you a little uneasy.
Leon stood back up, digging into his pocket for the key to the cage and once he entered, he almost orgasmed in his pants at the sight of you looking up at him from the ground. He shoved you back against the glass, eliciting a little confused noise from your lips before his bulge was in your face and you felt sick.
“Oh, baby. You didn’t think I was going to come in ‘ere and pamper you or something did you?” Leon asked rhetorically, not much care in his tone as he unzipped his jeans and pulled his dick out of the confines. Big, bigger than the ones you’ve seen in porn. Except they were all circumcised and bare to fit standards but he wasn’t, his pubic hair was shaggy and he pulled his foreskin back.
“D—dad, no! This is wrong!” You exclaimed, feeling the bulbous tip press against your lips making you tilt your face to the side.
And now the softness was gone as he grabbed the hair atop your scalp, tugging hard and straightening your head. It hurt, your lips parting in surprise.
“Shut up, pretty. Should be thanking me, mmm..” Leon cut himself off with a groan as he pushed into your warm, wet mouth. Your tears had come back, streaming down your puffy cheeks as your lips stretched around his cock. “Been working for so damn long, providing for you. Got you cute things to make you happy and I got rid of that fickle bitch.”
He felt your throat stutter around his dick as you gagged, making his abdomen clench. Tight mouth, tight pussy, pretty face and a cute body. It made sense though, he made you after all. And he knew that deep down, you liked this shit. You could’ve used your hands to stop him, but you didn’t.
“Hm, smart girl.” He praised, pulling almost all the way out and then shoving his hips forward. A warm and gooey sensation in his gut, he could’ve cum right there. Your mom didn’t like blowjobs, figured it’d give her wrinkles. As if she wasn’t boxed up on botox. That he paid for.
“You just need dad, I know you do.” Leon repeated the action, feeling your hands finally press onto his thighs but you made no attempt go push him off — instead your nails dug into his skin, your vision blurred with tears as you watched him, his Adam’s apple bobbing.
And his words, well, they made your panties feel wet. You didn’t know what it was because the only time it felt like this was when you got your period and didn’t realise you needed pads, you avoided tampons; doing enough research because ignorant momma didn’t want to teach you a thing, and you heard of TSS and it scared you.
Your throat was constricting the harder he thrusted, lips closing around his dick until your cheeks hollowed out. You were sucking his dick, like a popsicle. Because in a depraved way, you liked the taste. It was musky but clean, like he used soap on it or something. And your nose was buried in his pubes each time he bottomed out, different variations of grunts leaving his mouth.
“God, better than your mom. So much better,” Leon moaned weakly, tightening his grip on your hair as he thrusted with increased fervour. He just wanted a taste, he didn’t want to cum inside this pretty mouth. Save that for another day. “But you don’t need to breathe, right baby?”
“Ggmmph—“ You tried, feeling his fingers pinch your nostrils effectively suffocating you as he stilled his movements. Your throat was even tighter now, and he felt jittery, biting down hard on his lip. He always wanted to choke a girl this way.
When you started turning all blue, he pulled out of your mouth and grinned darkly, pulling his hand away as your mascara was running down your face and your nose was all snotty. Cute. He liked the messy type.
“Sorry, baby. Did I hurt you?” Leon asked condescendingly, putting his hands beneath your armpits and forcing you to stand up as you coughed and stuttered, feeling brainless and dizzy. You couldn’t reply, the world was spinning right now and your dad was about to rape you. And you were letting it happen.
For two reasons, you knew it was absolutely pointless to try and stop him and you didn’t hate this. You remember a few accounts on twitter that post incel porn and you would cum faster to that, rubbing your clit.
“Time to test your pussy, but I hope you don’t mind honey. Dad doesn’t have a woman now, you made me kill her.” Leon muttered, bunching the hem of your dress up at your hips and pressing his fingers against the soaking wet gusset of your panties, feeling your engorged clit.
“You little slut, you’re getting off to this. You’re wetter than ever,” He degraded meanly, pulling them to the side and rubbing the head of his dick against your slit, watching as you jumped and convulsed, head tilting back against the wall as you weakly protested. “Daddy’s dick is just crying for this pussy, baby. Be a good girl and take it, okay?”
You sobbed, eyes fluttering closed as he pressed his dick into your entrance and then shoved it inside, breaking your hymen almost instantly as you squealed from the harsh intrusion and immediately grabbed his shoulders.
“F—fuck, fuck! Dad!” You cried, hearing his shaky exhale as you clenched down repeatedly. He was too big, you could feel him in your stomach. You tried pushing him away, but then his large hands snaked around your hips, pulling you up and straight back down onto his throbbing cock.
“You’re… a fucking virgin?” He questioned, shaking his head and then laughing mockingly. His sweet girl was cursing now, that was new. He thrusted at a slew rate, one hand moving up your body, touching the bulge in your lower abdomen, ghosting over your breasts and then grabbing your chin.
He squished your wet cheeks together, pursing your lips like a fish as whined.
“Answer me, baby. Tell me you’re a sweet virgin.” Leon said, tightening his grip painfully when you didn’t answer making you flutter around his dick. Slick gushing down his heavy balls, the plap, plap, plap noises reverberating through the basement.
“I—I’m a… sweet virgin, daddy..” You whispered, eyes opening wide to look up at his reprobated face, though he looked a little red himself as he moved his hips rhythmically feeling your chubby pussy pull his dick in like a suction cup.
“Yeah, a sweet virgin turned whore.” Leon mocked, stilling his hips until his tip pressed against your cervix, watching as your expression contorted into a mix of pain and perverted pleasure. If he was a better man, he’d feel guilty. But the blood on his hands served to say that he was maybe a little, or a lot, deranged. And it’s alright because he knew you were too.
“Dad… please,” you moaned, feeling too full. You needed him to move, to touch your abandoned clit, to give you something other than the pain you were feeling. “Please just… move, just fuck me.”
Leon tilted his head, had he really corrupted your little brain? He hummed, resuming his movements and watching as your lips parted in a silent gasp, and then the punched out moans that escaped you. Yeah, he knew it. You were a perfect little thing, toes curling the harder he got, the frilly socks were a little stained and looked miniature in comparison to his boots.
“I am fucking you, honey.” He muttered, pressing a few kissed along your jawline as your head leaned up and your eyes rolled back when his fingers ghosted across your clit, rubbing firm circles around the sensitive bud. “Cute little pussy need a baby inside it, right?”
There you go, with a shaky scream you clenched down hard on his dick. The words were enough to bring a clear liquid squirting out of your pussy, his hips stuttering as he moaned, you were just convulsing, back arching into him as your breasts bounced until they were peeking out of your dress.
“Yeah, you do. Fuck, squirting around me like a goddamn slut.” Leon grunted, voice a little more hoarse at this point. He was nearing his own orgasm, and he wanted to fill you up completely. He wanted to do so much to you. He wanted to crawl up inside you and watch his sperm take, watch the entire beautiful process of conception.
He thrusted a couple more times before pausing inside, his warm and gooey cum filling your womb up completely until you felt like it would leak out of your mouth.
The beads of sweat that had formed on his forehead made the front strands of his hair a little wet as he watched you pant and tremble in his hold, his arms wrapping around the arch of your back and holding you against him. Yeah, he was a dickhead but he cared.
“You’re perfect, baby. Such a good girl.” He murmured, kissing the top of your face as you melted into his embrace. He didn’t bother pulling out. “Gotta keep you plugged up.”
A million times better than your mother, and speaking of which he’d need to dispose of her stupid body. Maybe after another round, and then a bath. And then a night of sleep.
#leon kennedy#leon scott kennedy#leon kennedy x reader#fantasy#smut#leon kennedy smut#leon scott kennedy smut#leon kennedy dead dove#dead dove#leon scott kennedy dead dove#leon kennedy x femreader#leon kennedy x you
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Huloo, just read Yandere cheater and it was hook line sinker for me, do you still do request? If so can you do a Yan! cheater but the reader is like one of those cold stone face to others but warm to their friends and family but especially soft towards someone they really like? (In this case the cheater). Im curious about your take 😭. Scenario would basically be the same same I guess, like Yan! Cheater jumped to conclusion and, being an idiot, decide revenge cheat is the solulu to his delulu thoughts.
(If your requests are closed, please ignore this, Id be embarrassed)
I would have finished this way earlier today, slowly back to posting I hope yall are proud of me Warning: non con touching * blood * mentions of rotting meat and killing people * yandere themes ofc
yan cheater x gn reader
„SMILE FOR ME ALRIGHT?”
“I like when you smile, you look really cute when you do” “Haha aren’t you a charmer?” “Listen, I am serious! Your smile is special, not many can see it bunny.” “I love you” “I love you too.” Your face doesn’t reflect on how you are feeling, unless it is someone that you actually care about. It is only natural that people can’t tell what you are feeling, and that comes with its pros and cons.
People won’t know if they hurt you. Ciaran was pretty, but underneath all of that hid a disgusting freak. Too bad you have learned that when you saw the man you love kiss someone else. You remember he kissed you with such passion not even a few hours later. You hate to admit, he looks pretty even now. Standing at your doorstep, red hair clinging to his face. Make up slightly smeared because of the water. Ciaran looked beautiful, even if messy and wet. It made your blood boil. You wanted to rip his hair out, punch him and then curl into a ball and cry your eyes out. Instead you kept leaning against the door frame, the scent of rain calming you down. You didn’t say anything to him, and he didn’t to you. He knew that you found out, and you knew his only regret right now was that he didn’t hide well enough.
The more you look at him, the more sick you feel. You waited for him to come back though, so you could spit on his face and throw him out of your apartment. You didn’t even bother with a suitcase, a trash bag fitted his personality more. “I have nothing to say to you Ciaran, take your shit and get lost.” Your voice was cold, monotonous but it made him shudder. You threw the bag into the closest puddle and finally slammed the door in his fucking face. There was something about you, Ciaran couldn’t put his finger on it. He doesn’t know why you are so attractive to him. Your eyes are cold, dead just like your expression that you wear. It’s like making eye contact with a corpse. Despite your very dead expression, you are quite attractive. Beautiful. It made his heart flutter, so it was only natural that he tried to get close to you. With time he got to see more of you, your little traits. Likes and dislikes. What you listen to, and what you eat.
The best part was when your stoic expression was replaced with a smile. He lived for those moments, but then it got boring. Can you even blame him? It all felt lukewarm. He needed that excitement back, and you couldn’t give him that. That is, he thought you couldn’t. But he was wrong. Ciaran wouldn’t admit it of course, it would hurt his pride. He was too proud, and you were just difficult and used.
He couldn’t admit that after just a week his body ached for your touch, scent. He wanted to see you smile again, hear you speak, touch you.
Every single time he tried to crawl back to you, you welcomed him with an ice cold stare and blank face. After God knows how many times he appeared in front of your house, you didn’t even bother opening the door and soon enough you moved away.
How could you? Leaving him wailing in the dirt in front of the place both of you called home. You are so cruel, didn’t you say people deserve a second chance?
Maybe he just needed to try harder.
The house breathed with you, calm and unbothered. The air felt heavy still and moist, in other words it stank in here quite badly. Slightly rotten food with the mix of your sweat made you gag. You laid still in your bed, eyes tired, achy and dry from the lack of sleep. You feel like you are going to suffocate in here. You listen to the melody of the forest surrounding your house, the gentle sway of the trees and cicadas. It’s dark, why were you up again? Your eyes start to wander around the room trying to adjust to the soft light of the moon. It’s dark, you see your furniture and that pile of clothes that looks a lot like a human now that you stare at it.
You turn on the light, it blinds you and you close your eyes and hiss in pain. When you open them again you see the same pile of dirty clothes. It looks normal, like a pile of unwashed clothes would. You thought it was.. nevermind, brain tends to imagine weird shapes when you can’t see shit. That’s what it was, you sigh as you get up. The air feels stuffy.
If it wasn’t for the crippling anxiety you would open the window, you can’t see outside but it can see you. That makes you worry.
You dragged your heavy feet to the kitchen to grab something to eat even though there is not much you can choose from. You need to go shopping. Your stomach recoils at that thought. Ciaran just waits for you to leave. He is probably not very happy that you have ignored him as much as you did. His gifts lay unopened at your front door, slowly piling up. The sweet scent of rotting meat emitting from them. Just thinking about it makes you weak in the stomach. The kitchen is dark, after the bedroom incident you didn’t bother even turning on the light. Your poor eyes. Your shaky hands search for the least dirty cup so you can at least drink some water.
After your break up, Ciaran hasn’t left you alone. Blocking him didn’t help, the police didn’t help. He made sure you were alone, with no one to help you. Your ex successfully tracked you every single time, that's why you are stuck at home. Looking and smelling like shit. It has been a week without him trying to contact you but you aren’t sure he finally moved on. You will sneak out of the house, leave everything and just escape this madness. You will be free. There is a warm breath on your neck.
The glass shattered against the wooden floor. “Did you miss me?” he rasped out. He smelled like forest. His voice goes through your ears, making them ring. You didn’t respond, praying that your brain is imagining things. It surely is, he imagines how he nuzzles into the crook of your neck and his hands slowly wander around your body.
You feel weak in your knees, hands gripping the sink in an attempt to get some stability. Ciarans cold hands painfully dig into your stomach. You feel like you are going to puke.
Then everything stops. You turn around and you are greeted with the sight of your kitchen. No Ciaran.
You raise your shirt, no marks.
You were going crazy or the lack of sleep is really getting into you. Forget the water or food, you are going to sleep. Ciaran is not here, you are safe and you need sleep. Badly. The floorboards creak against your weight, the trip to your room. It’s like being like a kid again, and you feel like someone is chasing you so you run up to your room to turn the light on and scare the evil away. The thought of it makes you chuckle. Something feels wrong though, you look at your front door. It’s open.
Fuck the sneaking, you are ready to run to your room when someone grabs you. Their hands are sticky, warm. The metallic and sweet rotting smell fills the room. “Bunny, bunny calm down. It’s okay, I am here finally.” “Ciaran, Ciaran please…” you choke out as he squeezes your frail body. “Ahh how I missed that voice of yours.” he moaned into your ear and hugged you tighter. You want to cry, you want to throw up but you can’t give him the satisfaction of that. You can show him any basic human emotion, that’s what he wants.
He kissed your neck, nipping at some places. Like he used to, when you two were together.
“You missed me too, right bunny? you missed my voice?” “Ciaran leave my house.” “But baby why? We are finally together again.” He let go of you. Your body ached, head pounding and all of your senses screaming to run.
“Aren’t you happy? Please bunny, smile for me like you used to.” His hands grabbed your face, fingers jamming into your mouth forcing it to open. It hurts, you can taste the blood coating his hands. He forces you to smile and you stop yourself from actually throwing up. Your thoughts are muddy, body weak. You claw at his hands but he grips you together. Nails digging into your gums, you gag. Ciaran beams at you, happy. Smiling widely, just like he used to.
“Now, was that so hard?” he hums.
You try to protest, but you are unable to speak. You are so tired, so weak. He took notice of that. Kissing your forehead.
“Oh my poor baby, you are exhausted waiting for me right? Don’t worry, I will help you.”
The last thing you remember is pain, the amazement on how strong his head is and a small thought that no matter how far you run. Your loving ex will find you.
#tw yandere#yandere#oc yandere#yandere oc#yandere x darling#oc tag#yandere blog#gn reader#oc#yandere x reader#yandere writing#yandere cheater#yandere cheater x reader#yandere cheater oc#male yandere#male yandere oc#male oc#reader#gender neutral reader#x reader
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Hihi! I’m in an angsty mood, so if it’s no bother would you mind writing falsely suspected traitor!reader (gn) with Gaz, ghost, soap, velikan, roach, Keegan and Krueger (I’m sorry, I don’t know your character limit, it’s completely up to you how many and which of them you want to write for!!) but they only find out reader is innocent after they already tortured reader?
Reader does forgive them but is very much traumatised, believing it’s something they did in order to bring suspicion to themselves, so reader starts to act differently. More meek and withdrawn, always keeping their head down and voice quiet, flinches and has low self esteem, …etc
Of course no pressure to write this at all!! And I’m sorry if any of the phrasing is weird, English is not my first language 😅
Hope you have a great day/evening!
a/n: I’m pretty sure I have a request just like this in my inbox and drafts somewhere lol (my drafts from old old requests are still gathering dust I’m so so so sorry to the people who requested btw)
Gaz:
-heart shattered with the most painful look on his face when he found out you didn’t lie to him. That you were innocent.. that when he was doing everything to pull info out of you and treating you like scum, that your answers of ‘I’m not lying!’ And pleas were all.. real
-went to you the second he could, shivering in self hatred especially when he saw the wounds he had caused on your body
-once you finally got back to good terms, he could see all the damage he did and it hurt him so much. He wanted YOU back, the loud, funny, unworried you… he didn’t know what to do
soap:
-held you so close for so long as soon as he figured out you didn’t lie to him. Or the team.
-tried everything and I mean EVERYTHING to try to get you back to how you were before it all
-every time you flinch or whisper, he can feel his guilt stabbing him though the heart, he can just imagine how you must feel.. and to think he could have helped.
-If he wasn’t so close to the rest of the team, he probably would have yelled at all of 141 for even assuming you were the traitor
ghost:
-feels so utterly guilty, like a wound was given to himself rather then you
-hates the fact he genuinely thought you would ever do that to him
-tried to distance himself from you now that you were back… he was just so guilty
-what if he hurt you again? What if you were still mad? What if you hated him now? He just couldn’t face it.
-when he found out you forgave him, an invisible weight was lifted off of him. But as he saw you be so quiet, he could feel his hands sake and his body almost collapse. He did this. He hurt his lover. He could never trust himself with you like he used to again.
-was oh so careful with you since then.. but could never shake the guilt
velikan:
-he HATED you when he thought you were a traitor. He had deleted every photo. Burnt every gift. Broke any shared thought. So finding out he had lost all of that hurt him so much he sat and cried for days, begging and pleading to anything that time could rewind and that he could have his memories and gifts back
-he tried so hard to make new ones with you to, he basically followed you like a lost puppy. But he knew even though you forgave him, he was damned to feel guilt every time you weren’t your same old self
-he missed his memories of you in photos and pages of his journals, he missed your bright smile and loud confidence, he missed all the things you changed from trauma he didn’t stop
-he hated himself for hating you when you were so innocent
keegan:
-he felt rage, rage at his teammates, rage at the captain who reported you for suspicious activity, and most of all, rage at himself for not protecting you like he always promised you he would
-couldn’t stand seeing you flinch, couldn’t stand not being able to reassure you that it would be okay and that he would protect you if it ever happened again
-because he knew his words of protection didn’t mean anything now. He had failed to protect you and even participated in harming you for something as simple as a claim…
kreuger:
-he thought that as soon as he started to fix things, you yourself would get fixed. But he was so wrong
-tried anything he could think of to make you feel safe to be yourself again, and whenever it didn’t work he’d secretly shed a tear
-it was like seeing his lovers ghost.. you weren’t you anymore, and it shattered him so much that he couldn’t fix it
-he could fix his guns, he could clean up your wounds, he could tell you that it was okay to be yourself again, he could fix the broken mirrors in his room, but he couldn’t fix you. He couldn’t get you back the way he remembered you, and he knew no matter how many years of therapy kortac paid for, it still wouldn’t fix you perfectly…
#cod angst#requests open#cod mw2#cod fic#luci44_writing#cod headcanons#cod hcs#headcannons#krueger call of duty#krueger cod#krueger x reader#cod krueger#sebastian krueger#keegan russ x reader#keegan x reader#keegan russ#cod keegan#keegan x y/n#keegan x you#keegan p russ x reader#keegan p russ#keegan russ x you#velikan x reader#velikan cod#velikan headcannons#velikan#john soap mactavish#soap cod#soap mw2#soap mactavish
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Jason joins Dani in being forced to have a check up by Frost Bite by Danny and Jazz. They commiserate on having ghost health problems.
(I went in a slightly different direction on this)
Jason sighed. Jazz patted his knee and kissed his forehead before saying, “It’ll be okay, dearest. Sit tight, I’ll go get Frostbite, alright?”
Jason huffed again but nodded. He ignored the scathing glare from the teen next to him. Jazz left and Jason sat in silence in the room next to the seething teen. He felt tired and prickly, like the cold air was getting sucked into his body. After a while of looking around the room and cataloguing everything, he asked, “So… what’re you in here for?”
“Why was Jazz kissing you?” The girl asked angrily. Jason glanced at her and observed her features, noting the heart shaped face, the sharp eyes, and delicate features with a hint of wildness.
He squinted. “Are you Jazz’s sister?”
The girl, Dani or Ellie he realized now, sneered. “Yes. Are you dating Jazz?”
“Yeah,” he said carefully. “We’re dating.”
Dani huffed, crossed her arms, and then answered, “I’m here for a checkup. I got into a fight recently and used too much power, so Danny made me come here so Frostbite could check me over too. What’re you here for?”
“Jazz said that the ectoplasmic rot in my soul was getting better,” he said, trying to recall what Jazz had explained to him before, “but I still need to be looked at because my case is a little uncommon.”
Dani nodded. “Yeah, mine too. My genetic makeup is unstable, so I can’t use my powers too much or for too long. I’m weak, but I have to try.”
Jason blinked. “Weak? You seem pretty strong to me. And that’s not a compliment because you’re my in-law. What do you mean by genetic makeup?”
Dani scowled, but she also looked pleased. She explained softly, “My creator, Danny’s enemy, made me to be an assassin and replacement. But… he messed up when he created me. I was supposed to be Danny’s clone. But I think Vlad didn’t have the heart to kill me using the portal like what happened to himself and Danny… so I’m unstable. He couldn’t stand to hurt me when he made me, but he had no problems trying to erase me later… and he’s the one who made me weak.”
Something dark flashed over her face, something like love and rage and regret and something that Jason related to like two people with holes in their hearts.
He chuckled humorlessly. “I kinda get it. I got killed. I was being stupid. I wanted to find my mom and she sold me out to the Joker.” He smiled, amused, as Dani hissed at the mention of the clown. “I was tortured and then when I tried to save my mom one last time… I was killed in a final explosion. I was forgotten. Almost nobody went to my funeral. I was buried and remembered only as a “good soldier,” and when I woke up in that coffin… I clawed myself out and was basically a zombie. Then I got tossed into a Lazarus Pit and I was trained to be an assassin too.”
He gave Dani a small smile, who just stared at him. “And you know what’s worse? When I came back to my senses, I found out that my dad didn’t even avenge me. The Joker is still alive, just killing other people. Taking other people away from their families. My dad didn’t even care about me. He slit my throat and saved the Joker when I gave him the chance, even though he used to tell me that he would never abandon me. So I kinda get it. Especially about a dad who made you, gave you everything, and when you finally did what you had to and completed your mission, he abandoned you for a better model. That’s what happened to you too, right?”
Dani nodded slowly. She looked at her hands and kicked her feet idly. “And now we’re fucked up because of them.”
Jason snorted. “Fuck dads. That’s what we have siblings for.”
A smile bloomed over her face. “Yeah. Fuck dads! That’s why we have big brothers and sisters!”
“We’ll be okay, squirt,” Jason grinned as he reached over and ruffled her hair. She immediately gave a cry of outrage, batting away his hands, but he continued, “We’ll make it through this. After all, we’re survivors, right?”
Dani gave him a critical look and then nodded. And after that, they sat together in amicable silence until Dani grew him into another conversation. When Frostbite finally entered, Jason didn’t feel so terrible anymore. After all, he had someone here who also related to him.
#dc x dp#dcxdp#dp x dc#dpxdc#danny phantom x dc#dp x dc crossover#ask#jazz fenton#anon ask#jason todd#dani fenton#dani phantom#danny fenton#phantom family#dp frostbite#vlad plasmius#vlad masters#anger management ship#hardcover ship#jason x jazz#ty for the ask!#danielle fenton#danielle phantom#oooh I love this ask actually now that I think about it some more
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Last Caress
SUMMARY: Jonathan finds a way to still have fun with his favorite plaything, even after scaring her to death
WORD COUNT: 1.5k
WARNINGS/ADDITIONAL INFO: DEAD DOVE, DO NOT EAT. Smut 🔞, necrophilia, noncon (unsure how to categorize corpsefucking consent wise, but I'm calling it noncon just to be safe), rough sex, accidental death, panty stealing, slapping, references to Jonathan being a rapist, some light misogyny, Jonathan is basically just an incel and a creep in this, maybe a little delusional
Not beta'd because how do you even ask for that with a necro fic. I am clearly having a weird one.
He hadn’t meant to hurt you, at least not permanently. You were too much fun to toy with, the way you squirmed and panicked and cried every time you realized he was near. Most of his victims weren’t nearly as fun as you. You’d changed the way you drove to work, the way you dressed, the rhythm of your gait, where you parked your car, all in a vain attempt to avoid his terror, but he tracked you down every single time, enjoying the puzzle of it all. And whenever he found you, you would scream in the most delicious way. Some nights you’d beg, some nights you’d dart down darkened alleys, some nights he didn’t even need to dose you with fear toxin for you to collapse into a pitiful, fearful mess.
Even when he didn’t confront you, you were a joy to watch. How you desperately tried to convince the Gotham police department that you were being stalked, only to be met with apathy from officers who were likely on the payroll of some other criminal, or who just plain didn’t care. How your hands began to tremble so badly that you could no longer accurately type at a computer, nearly getting you fired from your job. How you couldn’t sleep at night and curled your entire body into a tense ball any time you heard a noise that even remotely resembled the hiss of aerosol spray.
But now you were dead.
Your heart gave out during your nightly game of cat and mouse. When you first collapsed, he thought you had fainted in fear, an exciting new response for him to explore, but upon closer inspection, you weren’t breathing and had no pulse. Jonathan would’ve thrown a tantrum of disappointment right then and there if it wasn’t for one detail: your body was still warm and lifelike to his touch.
This wasn’t the first time Jonathan had handled a corpse, but he was much more used to preserved cadavers that had been donated for medical research. Intellectually, he knew that this was no different and that over the next 12 hours, your body would cool and stiffen, but for now you were soft, pliant, looking no worse for wear.
There was no way to transport your body back to his place without blatantly carrying your corpse through crowded city streets, but luckily for Jonathan, most Gothamites lived their lives by the motto, “if you see something suspicious, mind your business.” If anything, having you around made his commute home quicker: two occupants in the car meant he could drive in the carpool lane.
Once home, he unceremoniously tossed you on the bed and began inspecting your body more closely. He had never had the chance to see you this still; he always kept his distance while watching you sleep, and during the wakeful encounters, you were always struggling to get away from him. You were pretty, and part of him regretted not pumping you full of sedatives and having his way with you while you were alive. Your skin was slightly clammy as he stroked your face, although your lips still felt plush and soft as he dragged his thumb over them. He wondered how you might look with a bit more of a healthy flush across your face, and what you might have been like with a wanted partner.
“I don’t suppose you’ve seen the movie Weekend At Bernie’s?” he quipped as he positioned your body into a more natural looking position. “Of course not, you’re too young.”
Cutting your clothes away would’ve been easier, but he wanted to undress you by hand. It was so much more intimate that way. The clothes you were wearing were unfussy, making it that much easier for him to unbutton your blouse and slide your pencil skirt down your legs.
He couldn’t help but be disappointed in what you were wearing underneath: a cheap looking bra that matched your skin tone and plain cotton panties that were starting to fray at the elastic waistband. It was practical, sure, but couldn’t you have worn something a little more special for such an occasion? It’s almost like you didn’t want him to fuck your corpse.
As flimsy as the bra looked, it proved troublesome for him to remove, and he eventually settled for pulling your breasts out of the cups. They felt so soft in his hands, he couldn't help but moan as he kneaded them roughly. Not having to care about your pleasure or comfort was its own reward, especially as kneading turned to slapping and pulling. He could be as rough with you as he wanted; after all, what were you going to do, complain?
Your panties, however, he removed with the utmost care. While he would've preferred something prettier, they would make a fine keepsake. They smelled like you, maybe even tasted like you. He’d have to be careful with them to preserve the scent as much as possible, but he anticipated them coming in handy on future lonely nights.
Wanting to taste you, he spread your legs and curiously extended his tongue. Jonathan could count the number of women he’d tasted on one hand; most of his partners were less than willing and keeping a struggling victim pinned down didn't lend itself well to tenderly exploring a woman's folds with his tongue. You weren't especially wet anymore, which was disappointing, but he rationalized that beggars can't be choosers. Still, there was enough of your essence left for him to savor how you tasted, even if it was just a whisper of flavor.
Realizing that a dry, dead pussy would be no fun to fuck, he momentarily left you to retrieve the lotion he kept in his nightstand. He rubbed a generous amount between his hands to warm it up, and began the familiar process of pulling himself out of his pants and pumping himself to hardness. Even as you lay there lifeless, he found you absolutely irresistible in the way only something unattainable could be. Your body was like a precious, delicate bauble that he couldn't wait to smash to pieces.
It took a few tries to angle your body correctly and push himself inside, but once he was fully sheathed inside your pussy, he began thrusting with wanton abandon. The outside of your body was cooling, but inside you felt hot and tight. He swore he could feel your walls fluttering around him, even if he knew it was impossible.
“God, I bet you were the hottest little slut when you were alive." He panted out, imagining how you would've looked flirting in bars and going home with random, faceless men. Of course, he knew you seldom went anywhere other than work and home, futilely attempting to avoid Scarecrow, but you had a whole life before your first encounter that Jonathan could only speculate on. Maybe you were prim and proper, maybe you were carefree and fun. It didn't matter now, you were only going to exist in his fantasies now.
The movement from Jonathan's sharp thrusts jostled your body and made your head loll to the side. Not liking your new position, he grabbed your face and pulled it so you faced forward.
“Look at me, whore." he snapped as his movements grew rougher. "You think you don't deserve this? You're better than this? God, you're pathetic.”
Even as your head drooped to the side after he let go, he smacked the exposed side of your face, with all the contempt he’d ever felt, not even for you, but for the abstract amalgamation of every woman who had ever avoided or rejected him.
“Not so fucking high and mighty now."
He punctuated his statement by spitting in your face, satisfied by how all you could do was lie there limply, with a lifelessly serene look on your face. There was no rejection, no fighting back, just a perfect little pussy to fuck.
As much as he wished he could spend an eternity inside you, Jonathan felt his orgasm approaching. He groaned loudly as he spilled his seed inside you, feeling no need to hold back as he rode through the waves of his climax. His come only made everything feel hotter and stickier, an absolute perfect ending to what had started as a disappointing evening.
Once he was completely spent, he lingered on top of your body, pondering what he would do next. Originally, he was going to shove you in a trash bag and unceremoniously shove you in a dumpster, but now that just seemed… cold. Cruel, even.
Not that he was ever one for sentiment, but when he looked at you now, he felt what he could only describe as something dangerously close to affection. He could do you a kindness, clean you off and redress you, and drop you off anonymously at the coroner’s with whatever identification you had on you when you collapsed. Your family would be given definite answers about your fate, and an intact body to bury. Hell, if he was going to clean you up, he could even warm your body up in the bath and enjoy one last cuddle, something he had never shown much interest in before.
Jonathan had never thought to play favorites with his victims. But now, you were definitely his favorite.
#jonathan crane x reader#jonathan crane smut#jonathan crane fic#jonathan crane x y/n#cillian murphy x reader
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Food for thought for sub Boothill: wireplay!
Mechanic reader who helps with repairs all up inside him and maybe an update has him tingle each time they touch his wires, or graze his ports, or the potential opportunities 🤤
I only did minor researches about cyborgs to have a basic understanding, so most of the things I write down will be purely fiction. Also sorry that it turned out as angst instead of NSFW :(
Feel free to ask for a second part to make up for it
Warning: (a little) angst, we are screwing around
Boothill had hinted at the fact that he can’t feel with his mechanical body parts for a while now. For him, who has been like this for so long, one would think he had gotten used to it. Yet that wasn’t the case. Were you to ask him if it bothered him, he’d answer no without an ounce of hesitation. This used to be the truth, until he fell for you. In other words, if you were to ask him the same question now, the response would be much more heartbreaking.
To get a simple comparison, it was as if your body didn’t belong to you. Despite him technically being able to do anything, it felt as if he couldn’t at the same time. Serving as an echo and reminder of his hopelessness prior to gaining this body. It was only a small price to pay considering the sin he committed by being the sole survivor, his path of revenge was fuelled with nothing but pure rage. A second life, filled with endless possibilities, at the loss of his own humanity, not the worst of his sacrifices.
The most regrettable change he had to undergo was the loss of sensation. Everyday, a numbness that wouldn’t vanish engulfed him from the bottom to his shoulders, pretty much mirroring his inner emotions. How losing the sense of touch could throw one into a deep abyss of endless emptiness was unimaginable. To think this would have such a huge consequence on his psyche was unpredictable, he believed it wouldn’t come this far, since he still could feel from his shoulders up to his head. He was horribly wrong.
Whenever you embraced him, some kind of guilt mixed with adoration would eat away at him. Boothill craved your touch, more than that he wanted to feel your warmth when he hugs you, not just the cold iron. At the same time he wished you’d find someone else. Staying by his side would only bring problems, considering the high bounty on his head. You deserved it, you deserved so much better than this icy, robotic body of his. Sometimes his true thoughts would slip out and he’d accidentally tell you how it’s a pity he can’t feel anything. Soon after he’d chuckle and tell you not to worry about it, as well as how he’s grateful for his current life, since he’ll be able to carry out revenge this way.
You have long figured out his concerns, and no matter how you showered his body with love and affection, he only seemed to condemn himself more. This wasn’t something you could just accept like that, seeing your lover being so down caused you nothing but grief. Especially with the thought in mind that you couldn’t help him- no. That’s not true. You could if you wanted to, it’s never too late to learn new things. Besides you had a basic understanding of mechanics and things related to it, since it is a part of your work. Even if you had never done something this high-tech, it doesn’t mean it’s impossible. Giving it a shot wouldn’t hurt no one, right?
After coming to such resolves, it got shaken again by your endless worries. You had no idea where to start, nor how a cyborg works. Besides the IPC is way more knowledgeable about this than you, so what’s the chance of success? How were you going to achieve that goal anyway? Uncountable amounts of questions flooded your mind, chasing away any traces of confidence you previously had. That’s when you reminded yourself as to why you wanted to do all of this in the first place. It’s all because of him, he wanted to feel, and who were you to refuse his request? Thus began your secret operation, to program a small device that works as a sensory aid. This took you so long that boothill also noticed you hiding something from him, yet he never asked, respecting your wish to keep it a secret.
One day, after you were sure that it was done and hundred precent safe, you mustered enough courage to present the idea to him. Your heart was in your hand while you explained it to him, on what exactly you would have to do as well as what this little piece of metal can do. With trembling hands, you held the small chip. It was only as big as a pingpong ball, yet it took you months to refine it to perfection. Suddenly breathing was like the most difficult task in the world, as well as speaking. Your breath was short and ragged as you stumbled over your words, trying your best to explain the situation. It was hard to believe you were suggesting the idea of doing modifications on your dear boyfriend.
Boothill was initially grinning, wondering what kind of present you got him. When he saw your nervous stutters and the gift in your hand, his expression loosened up a little, thus he was smiling meekly now. Without beating around the bush, he clasped his hand over yours, then said, “m’ mighty fine, ya’ do what ya’ want, no need to force it, aight?” His hand was cold like always, in contrary to you he didn’t quiver, simply because he couldn’t. Even so you knew this was very shocking to him, you noticed by the indescribable look on his face. There was his usual cheerful air, brave smirk and reassuring yet chaotic vibe. Though a hint of bitterness was hidden behind these layers.
Why? That’s what he wondered about. You spend all your free time on this, just for him, because he accidentally pitied it once or twice? Even though he appreciated the thoughts and efforts, he still felt bad. Yet there was something else too, scepticism. If this were to work, would things get better? Doubt, suspicion and most prominently fear engulfed him. What if it just doesn’t work? You must be so disappointed if that were the case. Or something might go wrong and he never gets the chance to hold you again, that would be way worse than his current fate. Frankly enough, he is already grateful to have a place to call home again, which is why he doesn’t want to be too greedy.
You nodded, then said, “I want to try, okay?” He saw your determination, so he had to reason to refuse you, giving you a smile as he replied, “don’t mess me up too much, darling.” After getting his consent, you made him lie down on the working bench. If he didn’t knew any better, it almost felt like you were a doctor. You started with removing his cover, using a cordless screwdriver to get rid of the metal plates on his torso. This way you can access his central parts and inner systems. Operating on a human being was stressing, especially because it was someone dear to you too. It took you a while until you properly understood his body and how everything worked, many wires were placed everywhere, so many that it confused you. There were also artificial bones to help stabilise and protect the wires as well as countless devices, similar to the task of real bones. Some kind of blue liquid was being pumped to his heart, keeping it alive. You found many chips for various purposes, yours in contrary looked like a joke. This was overwhelming at first, but after studying him for a bit, you came to understand most of it.
Behind his pelvis was his oil tank, with the energy conversion device being right next to it. It was connected to every single part of his body, since it was the machine delivering energy through every wire. There were also many other human-like parts; an artificial lung, an oxygen cylinder to store the air needed to keep the brain alive, an artificial stomach which was more like a storage for bullets. The department that you needed the most was behind his chest, where his motor for motion skills are. It was located alongside a few other big systems. If you could somehow connect the control system with your little chip there, then he might be able to turn on or off the sensor at free will. No doubt it was a bold gamble, but you were willing to try.
After hours of endless finger-work, to the point sweat was dripping down your chin, you finally managed to attach the device to the right place. A total of 52 tiny wires were needed to properly connect everything, the last thing you had to do was to reattach his covers. Before moving on to that part, you tapped your self made chip gently, wondering if he would be able to feel anything already. During the entire time you were working and basically experimenting on him, Boothill stayed quiet, not wanting to disrupt you. Though this time, he let out an irritated gasp, “huh.” It was strange, something wasn’t quite right. That means you did manage to make modifications to his body, the question is if it’s a good thing. “Boothill, are you alright?” You asked him immediately, worried that you made things worse. “Shucks cutie, m’fine, I’m not that frail.” Once again he retorted to his usual fun demeanour.
It wasn’t a lie, he was fine, but that doesn’t mean nothing happened. Though he didn’t know how to describe it neither. Somehow it felt like electricity was send to his brain, stimulating his nerves. The sensation he just experienced… it was weird yet familiar. Could it be whatever you did worked? Was that bizarre sensation the sense of touch? It’s been so long, he doesn’t know nor remember anymore. “I’m done, can you see if you can turn it on?” You said hesitantly, almost sounding as unsure as him. Boothill looked through his system, and there has indeed been a new feature unlocked. He downloaded it swiftly, a little on edge as he waited. 98%…99%… and done. “How do you feel?” The anticipation in your voice was as clear as day. This was the most intense part of your operation after all, it was if it bore fruition.
“I really don’t feel a difference.” He told you honestly, his brows furrowed. It seems he also kind of hoped for it to work, guess his expectations were too high. Your heart sank, all this work for nothing. In an instant, you grabbed his hand and brought it to your chest. With a disappointed and guilty tone, you spoke, “I’m sorry, I made you go through all that for nothing.” Then you held his iron hand tightly, as if to apologise to him. As soon as your skin made contact with him, his hand twitched and he pulled it back. A dumbfounded look was on your face along with the grief. When you stared at him, totally confused, you noticed his face heat up. “Boothill…?”
“Your hand’s warm.” He stated, lips slightly parted which revealed his sharp teeth. “What?” You didn’t quite catch the meaning behind his words, hence the question. Boothill sit up very abruptly and pointed a finger to his body, “touch m’ here.” Despite you not understanding the situation, you obliged anyway, tapping his torso with your index finger. “It worked!” The cyborg stated, blinking a few times in awe. “My forking goodness, this shirt works.” “You mean…?” Your own eyes widened, staring at him in disbelief. It worked? Your little amateur operation there? “It worked.” You had to repeat those words that seemed so unfamiliar in your mouth.
The realisation hit you, your hard work payed off and it wasn’t unnecessary. In an instand you pulled that man into a hug, wrapping your arms around his torso, holding him tightly. “Hey now, don’t squeeze me so suddenly mother-fudger, hahaha.” Boothill laughed, returning your embrace immediately. This feeling was what he subconsciously missed. For the first time in years, he could feel the warmth of another. He can feel it when something is touching him, when you are caressing him so gently.
Even though first and foremost he looks unbothered, only happy about this new function, he was deeply shaken by it. His bottom lip trembled due to the overwhelming emotions swirling around inside him. If he could cry, he would. Partly because he’s so grateful for your deeds, also because feeling so many stimulations when he literally couldn’t for years is a bit overwhelming. It wasn’t bad though, your hug felt so nice. To think the first thing he gets to feel after being senseless all these years is not anything fighting related, but the soft feeling of your tender embrace. How lucky he was. If he dared to be a little more selfish, then he’d wish this moment could last forever.
#AHHHH IDK IF ITS GOOD T^T#boothill x you#honkai boothill#boothill star rail#boothill honkai star rail#boothill x reader#hsr boothill#boothill hsr#boothill#boothill x y/n
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Love triangle?? With atsv characters
Basically a love triangle between them, their spider alter ego and you … ?
Gwen has been longtime best friends with you and Peter for what feels like forever. Even after peters passing, you and Gwen remained close. Throughout the years, it was only natural for gwen to fall for you, her best friend. Peter had often encouraged her to try and go for it, but she never gave in to the temptation. Not when she has been lying to you for so long about who she really was. While her dad did often speak his mind on the mysterious spiderwoman and his doubts, you always seemed excited talking about her. It didn’t take long for her to find out you were not only a huge fan, but definitely had a bit of a crush.
This was amusing to her, obviously. But it also made her wonder if you felt nothing for the real her, and you just liked some alter ego of hers because she was cool and saved the day or whatever.
How you and spiderwoman met, was not under the best of circumstances. As you can imagine.
Growing up, you were always pretty tough. Fighting for and defending Peter against bullies, it was what drawn gwen to you right away. You always stood up for others, and perhaps in the real world it’d get you in more trouble, trying to help a defenses old man against some mugger, you nearly got real hurt in the process. Thankfully, your celebrity crush was there to web him up.
She remembers the look you gave her, you were so.. awestruck.
You never looked at her like that. Not the real her, anyway.
“Thank you spiderwoman!” you say with glee, a word she would almost never use to describe you.
She clears her throat, seeming off guard by the way you greeted her. Or perhaps she was caught off guard by how beautiful you looked in the moonlight. Is it hot outside or is it just her suit?
“Uh… uh…” she hesitates for a moment, before displaying faux confidence. She nods in understanding, “anytime, hopefully next time I’ll see you under better circumstances, cutie.” she says with a wink, before swinging away.
There’s practically hearts in your eyes, did spider woman… just flirt with you?!
Meanwhile, gwen is freaking the hell out over the fact she just said that. It’s certainly easier to flirt under the mask, she supposes.
You didn’t shut up about spiderwoman for the next week.
Miles was one of your best friends, had been for over a year now. Although this friendship, to many seemed newly found, to you both it felt like you knew eachother forever. You often ignored how Ganke never failed to mention that’s something people in love say about eachother.
Ganke was a close friend to the both of you. He was also very much aware of how miles was keeping this huge secret from you, and he often relayed to miles how he should just tell you already. Miles said no, everytime. So ganke had to resort to desperate measures, on one of your many hangouts with the two males.
“Hey, I’m curious.” Ganke starts, “what do you think of Spiderman?”
Miles nearly chokes, he looks wide eyed at ganke, as if ganke just killed a cat. Honestly, ganke is surprised miles hadn’t brought up Spiderman to you himself before, but honestly miles was terrified of what you actually thought, to the point he didn’t want it mentioned at all in front of you.
But your immediate grin makes miles almost audibly sigh.
“I think he’s awesome! Way cooler than the other one to be honest like wow have you seen that suit? Nice color.” Miles couldn’t help but notice the way your eyes lit up in excitement. How come he hasn’t heard you talk about spiderman before if you liked him so much?
“Hey, miles?”
“Huh?!” he yells, his voice becoming so high pitched it sounded like he was just hitting puberty, making you laugh.
“I- I mean.. yeah… what’s up?”
“Do you think he’s … cute?” you ask, rather curious what miles thinks of spiderman.
Ganke almost laughs at how wide miles eyes are, somehow even wider than before.
You would eventually have the chance to meet spiderman, which was not something miles would be happy about. A fight with a particularly … tough villain had caused much damage to the city. Miles swears, today he had to pull up at least 3 buses by his webs.
However, the bus you were in, as plain as day. He couldn’t see anyone but you, the other people in the bus being a blur to him.
He was scared, so so so scared. The moment you’re out and safe, he wants to hug you. He almost does, but he’s able to restrain himself once he feels gwen tug his arm, warning him of how weird that’d be.
He sighs, but he sees you smile at him, grateful. He’s blissfully unaware of how hot your cheeks are, seeing him in the flesh, in person.
You wonder if he’d be okay with signing an autograph.
Hobie was never the type for being subtle. He was blunt, but because of his casualness about it people do not take what he says seriously. He didn’t plan on making a strong effort to hide being spiderman from you. Because he trusts you, with his life in fact.
You two have fought together on many different occasions, way before he became spiderman. People didn’t like either of you, when you were young at least. Strong and unafraid, and like him, you often spoke your mind about things. Granted, you were a lot nicer about it but still. It’s something he definitely likes about you. To him, falling for you just felt natural. Like it was meant to happen. Like falling for you was second nature.
But over his time of becoming spiderman, he had … well… found out you had a major crush on his alter ego. You did not shut up about how “babygirl” he was. And while this was amusing at first, it annoyed him a little. Did that mean you weren’t interested in him, as hobie, romantically? And if you did find out who he really was, would you still like spiderman? Or would it ruin the imagination for you? And if you did, would it only be because he’s spiderman?
A lot of questions circle his mind, a lot of worry and it isn’t like him. He really hates it. Only you can manage to do that to him.
Eventually, the two of you do end up meeting.
You were known for being a fighter, laws or not, you didn’t care, maybe a bit headstrong in your beliefs. Maybe you got too caught up in things, as you often did. Difference was, hobie was not there to back you up. As he often was.
Not this time though, as apparently Hobie had some unfinished business to deal with. You had no idea what that meant, but you trusted hobie enough that he wouldn’t go off doing something stupid without you.
You were not hobie however, and did something stupid without him.
While yes, the guy had harassed you first and you had every right to be angry with him, you probably shouldn’t have provoked such a big and muscular looking guy. There’s no way you could take him in a fight, but you could always try.
Before you even had the gall to fight this guy, before he can even pull the first punch, webs are shot his way. You gasp in surprise, turning behind you to see the one and only.
His movements are quick, and honestly, spiderman struggles for a little.
If even he struggled during that fight, you didn’t stand a chance. But you’re too busy absolutely fangirl/boy/theythem’ing to even care.
Once everything was said and done, Spiderman turned around to take a look at you. He was relieved you weren’t banged up or anything, though you couldn’t tell. “You aight?” he asked, and typically he was so cool and collected, but around you he had no idea how he should be acting. Thoughts from before still clouding his mind:
He lets them go for a moment upon your excited squeal and has to hold himself back from laughing.
Pavitr mentioned spiderman quite a bit, and very early on when he first became the masked vigilante. He was quick to gauge your opinions, because in his mind you’re thoughts and feelings matter the most to him.
He would quickly learn you loved the guy, so he proudly continued doing the whole superhero thing. However, as time went by he had seen your admiration for Spiderman develop into a crush. Only upon your first meeting with him, though. He couldn’t blame you, he supposed that in your eyes this guy saved your life from imminent peril. In his eyes, he was just doing something that was common sense. Saving you while you were trapped in that bus was not something he needed to think twice about.
And he certainly didn’t think twice about hugging you, either. Despite you two not really being acquainted with one another. He was quick to come to his senses, about to pull away, but you held on. And he realized you needed this hug as much as he did. He combs his fingers through your hair, as if second nature. Just like he normally did, and he was the only one that ever did that. You didn’t seem to catch on in that state, but little did he know how grateful you were towards him. He could only imagine, but it was a fraction to how you truly felt.
“Thank you, spiderman.” You say with such softness in your voice, he’s never heard it from you before.
And from that point on, he did not stop hearing you gush about the arachnid. While he often laughed this off, he wondered if that meant things would be weird between you two if he told you the truth.
#spiderman x reader#spiderman india x reader#pavitr prabhakar x reader#pavitr x reader#hobie brown x reader#hobie x reader#spiderpunk x reader#spiderwoman x reader#spidergwen x reader#gwen x reader#gwen stacy x reader#miles morales x y/n#miles morales x you#miles morales x reader#atsv x y/n#atsv x you#atsv x reader
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Book Lovers // Quinn Hughes
Word Count: 5K
Summary: Quinn x fem OC author
Content: prolonged meet cute, flirty banter, fluff. Truly, I saw the clip of Quinn sharing he's a reader and knew I had to write something based on that.
Quinn took a deep, contented breath as he perused the shelves before him. He had a rare day off and was doing one of his favorite fall activities: book shopping.
Normally, he just went to Chapters or Barnes, depending on what country he was in, but he’d decided to explore a new place. He’d been discussing books with Lauren, the new social media manager, and she’d ranted about how they and Amazon were “destroying local markets and harming author profits.” Most of her argument had gone over his head but he took away enough, so here he was at Thomas’ Tomes–the closest locally-owned book shop to his apartment. He figured that was as good a place to start as any and it certainly didn’t hurt that it was a block from his favorite coffee place.
Which is how he found himself, pumpkin spiced latte in hand, soaking in the relaxing energy of the cozy shop. He’d already selected a few historical fiction novels and was scanning the mystery section he’d just entered. He pulled his phone out, scanning his notes app for the title Lauren had recommended. She’d said it was pretty gruesome but he figured he could handle it…probably.
“Can I help you?” a voice nearby asked, startling him. “I’m sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. Are you sure a mystery book is a good idea?”
His gaze rose to meet warm, golden brown eyes filled with amusement. “What do you mean?”
“It’s broad daylight in a public setting and you almost dropped your PSL because I greeted you.”
“You didn’t scare me, I was just in my own world” he argued, but felt his cheeks pinkening. She really had set off a fight or flight response just by doing her job.
“Of course” she replied and he couldn’t tell if he was being sensitive or if there was a teasing glint in her eyes. “My offer still stands.”
“I’m sorry what?” he asked, confused and scrambling to keep up.
“To help you find something…preferably a book. I don’t know how much help I’d be beyond that.”
“Oh sure, yeah, thanks” he mumbled, setting his stack of books down on the table next to him so he could more easily show her his phone screen. “Someone recommended this book to me, do you have it in stock?”
He caught a whiff of something earthy and relaxing as she leaned closer, her eyes scanning the note. “Ah, yes we actually have a display over this way. Theo’s a local author.”
He picked up his items and followed her, moving much quicker than he anticipated having to to keep up as she weaved through the store. “Have you worked here a long time?”
“My whole life essentially” she chuckled, throwing a grin over her shoulder. Just as she turned back, they passed a window that set her red hair aflame in the midday sun.
“Oh, yeah? No labor laws then?” he teased, he hoped, successfully.
“I mean, I basically harassed my parents to let me stock shelves or talk to customers. Now I’m slightly less enthusiastic about inventory.”
He laughed at her light tone, drawing to a stop as she did. “Wow, is this a series or something?” he asked, taking in the full display.
“Well, the one your girlfriend recommended is the first in a new series” she answered, pointing it out. He was about to correct her but she continued quickly, “And the sequel isn’t out until early next year, so you’ll be waiting a bit for answers. Maybe start with this one?” she suggested, pointing out a title with the fewest books available.
“Only a couple copies left, it must be popular. Have you read it?”
“More times than I can count” she huffed.
“You’d think if you kept rereading it’s because you enjoyed it, no?” he chuckled.
She simply shrugged, turning fully to meet his gaze, “Well, what’s the verdict? I do feel the need to warn you, these books are much closer to horror than just a normal mystery or thriller.”
“Why does no one think I can handle these books?” he sighed in mild annoyance, grabbing the one she’d recommended off the shelf.
“You just don’t seem like a horror enthusiast, that’s all.”
“How could you possibly know that?”
“Do you want me to answer genuinely?” she responded, eyebrow quirked in a challenge he couldn’t help but rise to.
“Sure but if you hurt my feelings, can you at least give me a discount?” he joked and she snorted out a laugh.
“You’ve got yourself a deal” she smirked, offering her hand to shake on it, which he did. He wasn’t at all surprised when her handshake was firm and she maintained eye contact the entire time. “Well, you have two historical fiction books with you and that was the first section you went to when you walked in.”
“You were watching me?” he laughed, earning him an eye roll.
“It’s 11AM on a Tuesday, there’s not much else to do,” she replied, gesturing to the otherwise empty store. “Plus, it’s a fun game to play when I procrastinate on doing actual work. Anyway,” she emphasized, closing her eyes briefly to seemingly get herself back on track. “Once you found those, both of which are part of long, ongoing series, you debated going left to nonfiction or right to mystery. My guess is, you normally would go pick out some biographies, maybe some historical nonfiction or even, oh, maybe some kind of ‘how to maximize yourself’ guide. How close am I?”
He felt his cheeks warm from pink to scarlet, “I mean, close but that doesn’t mean I can’t also like mysteries…” he argued weakly.
“True enough, who’s your favorite thriller writer?” The long silence was answer enough so she continued, “If you want, you can go pick out a nonfiction book and I’ll throw the thriller in for free.”
“You don’t have to do that, my feelings weren’t that hurt.”
She shrugged, “I can’t in good conscience let you pay for that book, you must have done something to piss off your girlfriend.”
“My coworker, actually” he corrected and her eyebrows rose. “What?”
“What did you do to the poor girl?”
“Nothing! I even took her suggestion to shop locally.”
“Our hero” she fake swooned and he rolled his eyes, making her laugh. “Fine, how about when you’re done you bring up your haul and I’ll throw in a surprise? I feel like you’re making it a pride thing to buy the book now.”
“Color me intrigued, we have another deal” he replied. “My name’s Quinn, by the way.”
“Dora” she replied but a loud snort erupted from near the registers. “Fuck off, Richie” she snapped, turning away from him to seemingly go yell at whoever laughed at her.
Quinn tried to relax back into the calming routine of ambling through a bookstore but he kept hearing her voice and couldn’t focus on much else. He grabbed a biography Jack had recommended, both dreading and eager to be teased by the redhead.
“Don’t let her manipulate you into buying that garbage” the guy, presumably Richie, called as soon as Quinn was in his line of sight.
“I’m doing no such thing! Tell him, Quinn” she replied, cheeks flaming red in annoyance, her golden eyes fierce with indignation.
“My coworker actually recommended this author. A different book but still…” he shrugged, placing his other selections on the counter. He noticed her eyes appraising his selections and the quick, amused quirk of her mouth before she whirled to focus on Richie.
“See I told you!”
“I’m sorry for not believing you” Richie said, seeming sincere to Quinn’s ears but Dora’s eyes narrowed. “It’s just that Theodora here often tries to swindle impressionable young men to improve her book sales.” The heavy emphasis on the girl’s full name made Quinn pause.
“Wait a minute…” he blinked rapidly, processing this new information. “Your family owns this shop, right? Thomas’ Tomes?”
“...yeah” she grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring daggers at the giggling Richie.
“And when you gave your name as Dora, he laughed. And this book, it’s written by Theo Thomas. And he just called you Theodora, which I think means you wrote this?” he questioned, feeling proud of himself for putting the pieces together and a little embarrassed it took him so long.
“He’s solved the mystery! Maybe he can handle your book after all, dear sister” Richie teased.
“I was going to tell him!” Theo argued, grabbing a pen and opening the book. “That was the surprise, Quinn, now you have a signed copy of the book. You’re welcome, you can thank my asshole brother for ruining the reveal. I also signed a copy of the one your coworker recommended, can you pass it along to her? On the house.”
“Are you sure?” Quinn questioned and she nodded, shifting to ring up the rest of his purchase.
“Theo, stop” Richie huffed, shifting her away from the till. “You need to stop procrastinating and finish that last round of edits, they’re due within the week.”
“It’s just garbage anyway, you said so yourself” Theo replied mopily, sitting down on the stool next to the register.
“Oh come on…” Richie sighed, pausing his scanning to give his sister his full attention. “I was just messing with you. I know the sequel’s giving you a hard time but you’re at the finish line now, just a few more days of work then it’s out of your hands. And you’re an incredible, if worryingly grotesque, writer so I have every faith it’ll be amazing.”
“Did you hear that, Quinn?” Theo asked, grinning widely. “He finally admitted I’m a good writer.”
“Oh fuck off, you guilted me into it!” Richie replied, grabbing the debit card from his outstretched hand. “Quinn, right?”
“...yeah?”
“Quinn, can you please take my sister anywhere other than this shop? The cafe, the movies, a strip club? I literally don’t care, she’s driving me nuts.”
“Richie! I’m sorry, he’s kidding, he knows that would be a weird, rude thing to request of a total stranger.”
“A total stranger you’ve been flirting with…” he mumbled and Theo jammed her elbow into his side.
“Here, let me walk you out…” Theo said, grabbing his bag of books and rapidly leading him away from her brother. Once the cool fresh air surrounded them, she turned quickly towards him. “I am so sorry, Richie thinks he’s funny when he’s really just weird.”
“I have two brothers, I get it” Quinn assured her, reaching to grab the bag from her hands. “It was nice to have someone sign something for me for once.”
“Do you sign things for people often?” she questioned, confusion evident in her eyes as she scanned him, trying to place who he may be.
“Most nights yeah” he chuckled shyly, embarrassed by his comment. “Forget about it though…”
“No, no, I’m curious now” she smiled, head tilted in appraisal. “Not an author, I’d know you already. You definitely don’t give off musician vibes…but I don’t think I’ve seen you in anything either so not an actor. Who are you really Quinn? Here I was feeling bad for putting you through the ringer for my own amusement back there and you were a celebrity the whole time.”
“I wouldn’t go that far” he laughed anxiously, running his hands through his hair.
“Well you’re either someone of import or completely delusional and just handing out signatures to people on the streets, so which is it?”
“I’m a hockey player.”
“...okay, and?”
“We’re in Vancouver.”
“Yes, I’m aware.”
“This is a huge hockey city! You don’t know the Canucks?”
“I don’t live under a rock, of course I do” she scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “I was raised in a bookstore though so sports aren’t high on my list of interests.”
“Are they on your list at all?”
“Take a wild guess, Quinn” she replied sarcastically. “I guess you’re a big deal then?”
“I mean, I am the captain…”
“Is that normally what gets girls interested in you?”
“Damn, tell me how you really feel” he answered, averting his eyes and trying to play off how the quip hurt him.
“Hey, I’m sorry” she replied, her voice gentle as she tugged softly on his coat sleeve “That’s not how I meant it. I guess I’m just surprised you felt the need to try to impress me when I’ve been waiting for you to ask me out since I walked over to you in the shop.”
He was briefly stunned into silence, causing her to rapidly continue, “Oh god, I’m leaving. I hope my book doesn’t traumatize you and I’m sorry for assuming you were trying to impress me, that was weird and presumptuous of me.”
It was his turn to grab her sweater sleeve lightly, “Can I have your number?”
“Are you sure you want it? I’m clearly an expert at putting my foot into my mouth…”
“I’m 100% sure but only if you’re interested. There's no pressure.”
Theo reached into the shopping bag, adding her number to her signature before returning it. “Text me when you finish chapter eight, not a minute before okay? You need to know what you’re getting into here.”
***
Theo sighed, finally closing her laptop for the night but not before catching the time: 1AM. She’d procrastinated most of the day before forcing herself to do the one chapter she’d promised herself she’d get done. She was confident in the overall story but she felt like a single thread was missing that would lead to the next book’s central plot. Should the apparent villain be more gray and get a redemption arc? Or should she double down? Or maybe…her phone vibrating across the desk stopped her obsessing.
Respectfully, your mind must be a truly terrifying place. What the FUCK was that twist?
She smirked, butterflies tentatively taking flight in her stomach at the unknown number’s text.
I’m sorry, who is this?
How many men do you secretly sell your book to, sign said book with your number, and give detailed instructions on when they can use that number?
At least three today that I can think of, so any additional information would really help.
It’s Quinn.
Ah yes, the biography and historical fiction lover! What twist are you referring to?
I think if I typed it out I’d get flagged by an FBI agent or something…that was gruesome
I tried to warn you…
Take my advice, try harder with your next group of guys
I’ll do my best. I suspect the more I’d try to warn you off the more you would have dug your heels in though
Nah, I don’t have a competitive bone in my body
Of course, my bad. Will you finish the book or is it too much? You can always give it to your girlfriend
*Coworker. I wouldn’t be texting a beautiful girl I just met if I was in a relationship
How charming and reassuring of you!
Are you always like this?
Like what?
Chirping
…I’m sorry what?
You don’t know what chirping means? That’s disappointing given you're a writer, Theo…
Please, enlighten me
Chirping is a hockey term for when you’re ribbing someone. During a game, guys will chirp or make fun of each other to get under their skin.
Are you saying I’m getting under your skin?
I’m saying I feel like my brain has to work overtime to keep up with you
That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me
That can’t possibly be true
As she mulled over what to say next, the three blue dots popped up so she paused until his response appeareed
Can I ask you a forward question?
Shoot
Are you free tonight?
Are you asking me on a date?
Not quite, I’m asking you to come to my hockey game
And why’s that?
Because you’re clearly smart and cute and have a twisted mind that I’m curious to learn more about. But you gave me a warning, so asking you to go to my game is mine
Ah, so since you passed my test you want to see if I can pass yours?
If you want it to be a challenge, sure. I just think it’s fair for you to get a glimpse of my weird life before I actually ask you out. Just like how you showed me a glimpse of your weird brain.
Challenge and pre-date screening accepted. Where do I go and when?
Which is how Theo found herself weaving through the crowds at Rogers Arena. Quinn had offered to get her a second ticket so she’d have company but she figured it was fair she went it alone since he was game to read her book. How terrifying could a hockey game be in comparison to a brutal serial killer story?
Quite scary, it turned out. The crowd was electric, the arena was sold out, and the noise was deafening. She’d never admit it to Quinn but she did watch some basic hockey rule videos on YouTube so she wouldn’t be totally oblivious. By the third period, she felt settled into the rhythm of the game and was actually enjoying it a bit. Especially when a fight broke out and she could cheer for violence against a random man she didn’t know alongside thousands of people. There was something very cathartic about the experience.
It also turned out that Quinn, in this world, is a big deal. She’d immediately noticed that a huge percentage of fans were wearing his jersey. And as the team warmed up, Quinn had traded a puck for a piece of candy causing the teenage girl to scream in hysterics afterwards. It was both bizarre and fascinating to watch given she’d met this random man the day before at her family’s store. Maybe she should have asked for a signature, it probably would sell for a pretty penny…
A roar from the crowd pulled her attention back to the ice and her heart dropped to her stomach. Fights were a lot less fun when you knew and had budding feelings for one of the guys involved, especially when who he was squared off against had almost half a foot on him. To her surprise and relief, Quinn could hold his own, using speed to his advantage. When they both fell to the ice before finally being separated, she took it to mean it was a draw but the crowd screamed like he’d single handedly won the championship game, even as he was guided off the ice by the officials. There was less than three minutes left in the game so she hoped that was why rather than that he was hurt. She worried her lip between her teeth as she pulled out her phone.
Idk if you’ll see this before the end of the game but are you okay?????
She sighed as the minutes passed, the final buzzer sounding without a reply, so she stood to leave with the tide of people. Just as she tucked her phone in her pocket, she felt it buzzing insistently with a phone call.
“Quinn, are you okay?” she asked without greeting him. She was focused on his answer but noticed a few fans within hearing distance whip their heads towards her at his name.
“Yeah, sorry I jumped right in the shower after the major.”
“I don’t totally know what that whole sentence means but I’m relieved you’re alright.”
His warm chuckle through the phone made her toes curl. “Did I scare you off?”
“I’m offended you’d think so” she replied but if he’d been with her, he’d easily tell she was a little shaken by the experience.
“If you say so, Dora…” he teased and she laughed loudly, accidentally drawing more attention her way. “Can I take you out for a drink then?”
“Yeah, I’d like that. I’m currently in a sea of your most devoted followers though so I’ll need some help finding you.”
He stayed on the phone as he guided her through the arena to the parking deck where he’d meet her shortly, only hanging up once she confirmed she was at the right car by reading his license plate number back to him. She scrolled through her phone while waiting but she felt eyes on her. She couldn’t help but be a little uncomfortable at the thought that these strangers knew Quinn’s car or at very least understood players would be emerging into this section of the parking garage. As a lifelong Vancouver resident, she obviously knew how hockey-obsessed her city was but she never thought much about these details.
She heard male voices approaching from the opposite direction of where she’d come so she tucked her phone in her purse. Quinn emerged with a tall blonde, their two heads bent together in serious conversation. When a young boy approached, they both paused, kneeling down to greet him and sign his jersey. They repeated the motion a few times before excusing themselves from the small crowd that had formed.
“Hey! How’d you like the game?” Quinn asked, briefly pulling her in for a hug.
“I really liked the fighting until you were involved, then it was less fun” she admitted, smiling to greet Quinn’s companion. “I’m Theo.”
“Elias, good to meet you. Enjoy the rest of your night and maybe help Theo into your car before loading up, yeah?” Elias suggested and she felt her brows furrow. Quinn quickly glanced back towards the small group of people and her eyes followed his, noting that several phones were out and seemingly recording everything.
“Thanks man, drive safe” Quinn replied, placing his hand on the small of her back to guide her to the passenger side “Sorry about that.”
“It’s fine” she replied despite her confusion and frazzledness. He must have seen it on her face though because he quickly unlocked the door and helped her in. A moment later he was in the driver’s seat, backing up and speeding through the parking deck.
“I think this is the longest silence I’ve experienced in your presence” Quinn mused at the long, but not uncomfortable, quiet that had settled.
“I’m sorry that was just…”
“A lot? Too much? I can drop you off if you’ve changed your mind, I get it” he nervously filled in.
“Quinn, stop,” she laughed. “That’s not what I was going to say, it’s just a lot to process. I really thought you were trying to, like, gas yourself up when you said people wanted your signature daily but the girl you gave a puck to almost burst into tears afterwards”
His cheeks flamed a deep crimson which she found wildly endearing, “Yeah, it’s a lot to process for me and it’s my life.” She took in his tired eyes and the dark circles beneath them.
“Why don’t we go back to my place? I have a full bar cart and you seem like you could use some quiet” she offered.
“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
“Quinn, I extended the invitation, of course I’m sure. Just take the left at the next light.”
She guided him through the city to her apartment, allowing silences to stretch while he seemingly decompressed from the game and its aftermath. Contrary to his initial impression, she was comfortable with quiet and enjoyed when someone’s company didn’t require constant banter and attention.
“Here, park in this spot, my neighbor’s away this week so no one will care if you're there.”
He did as instructed and she went to open the car door, nearly knocking him with it, “Jesus, Quinn! Did you sprint over here? I can open the door myself, you know…”
“I didn’t sprint, I just moved quickly. And I know you can open the door, I just wanted to do it for you” he mumbled and she smiled at his nervousness.
“Well, thanks and I'm sorry for almost injuring you. It seems like something that could really fuck with your job.”
“Just a little” he chuckled, offering his hand to help her out of his truck. She took it, enjoying how warm and calloused his fingers felt against her own. He went to remove his grip but she squeezed his fingers in a silent request to keep holding on, which he did.
“This is a great spot” he complimented as they rode the elevator up to her floor. “I guess the writing’s really working out?”
“I moved in about a year ago. I’d been doing pretty good but then my most recent book, the one your coworker recommended, kind of blew up. Which is great but also has made getting the sequel done a bit stressful” she admitted, reluctantly releasing his hand to unlock her door.
“Why’s that? Wouldn’t the success kind of add to your confidence?”
“It did, for a little, but if this next one tanks then it just proves it was a fluke and then what?” she questioned, flicking on the lights. “Penny!” she called, squatting down to pet her beloved dog.
Penny wiggled into her body, pushing her over and onto the floor making Theo chuckle. “Settle down, it’s only been a few hours.”
“She’s beautiful” Quinn complimented from behind her, closing the door as he stepped inside. Penny was immediately investigating him, sniffing his hands as her tail wagged excitedly. “What a sweetie. You said her name’s Penny, right?”
“Yeah, short for Pennywise” Theo elaborated as she stood back up to slip her shoes off.
“Of course, how silly of me to not make the connection” he chuckled.
“I mean, I’m named after a horror novel character so I had to continue the family tradition with my own child” she explained, making her way towards the kitchen.
“Are you really?”
“Yeah, Theodora from Haunting of Hill House. Richie was named after Tozier in Stephen King’s It.”
“That makes your choice of genre less surprising.”
She laughed and shrugged, “What can I get you to drink?”
“Honestly? I don’t really drink, I just wanted to see you tonight since the game didn’t scare you off.”
“I tried to tell you, I don’t scare easily,” she teased. “I don’t really drink either. Hot cocoa?”
“Sounds great, thanks” he replied and she busied herself getting the ingredients together. “Seriously though, what did you think of the game?”
“Like I said, it was fun until I worried you were hurt, then it was significantly less enjoyable” she answered, handing him a warm mug. “Want to hang in my library? Your book taste is questionable but I still think you’ll enjoy my collection.”
“Why is my taste questionable?” he scoffed but followed her down the hall.
“It’s just very…dude bro-y.”
“How elegant” he teased and she rolled her eyes.
“Maybe not elegant, but accurate, no?”
“Whatever, Dora” he grumbled and she laughed.
“Is that going to be a thing? You call me by my least favorite nickname when I annoy you?”
“To be fair, it was you who offered that name up.”
She sighed, sipping her drink and settling into the couch in her study. She watched as he slowly made his way around the room, every wall lined with books from floor to ceiling. “This room is incredible.”
“Thanks” she beamed, genuinely thrilled at the compliment. “It’s kind of my pride and joy, aside from Penny, of course.”
“I can tell,” he replied earnestly, settling beside her. “There has to be some nonfiction in here, right?”
“Sure, if you’re into true crime, psychology, forensics, and/or mental health memoirs.”
“I actually really enjoy psychology, it’s helped my game a lot.”
“Really?” she asked and couldn’t hide the surprise from her tone which earned her a light glare. “I just meant that hockey seems much more physical than cerebral.”
“Oh it’s super mental actually” he argued and she nodded her encouragement for him to continue. “Okay so tonight for example. I didn’t have to drop my gloves and fight but doing so showed my team that I have their back and the other team that even though I’m smaller, they can’t push me around. Since I’m a quieter guy, I choose my actions carefully to kind of speak without speaking if that makes sense.”
“It does but you’re not small, silly. Not that it would matter even if you were but you’re not.”
“I’m hockey small” he corrected and she didn’t know enough to argue. “Oh, another example. When a player is approaching the goal, they have to strategize what they can physically do while also anticipating the goalies expectations. Which is hard because the goalie is doing the same thing. So, it becomes really strategic in addition to the skill you need to play at this level.”
She nodded, genuinely intrigued by this new element of the game she watched tonight. He must have taken her silence for boredom because he quickly continued, “I’m sorry, I can be a bit of a hockey nerd.”
“Don’t be sorry, it honestly makes the game more interesting to me to think of it that way. Plus, I already knew you were a book nerd, what’s one more level of nerdiness?”
He rolled his eyes and she laughed, lost in their deep blue. The air shifted between them, tension developing where there had been none. She set her mug down, eyes dipping to his lips and back up. She really wanted to know what his mouth would feel like against hers.
“I come with a lot of baggage” he admitted quietly and she shrugged.
“Don’t we all?” she asked, matching his quiet tone. She couldn’t help herself from raising a hand to gently trace the curve of his cheekbones. “I really like looking at you” she mumbled before she could think the comment through.
He chuckled softly, covering her hand with his own, “I really like looking at you too, weirdo.”
She grinned at his response, closing her eyes as his mouth finally met her own.
A/N: Sorry for the cut to black, I'm debating if I want to continue with this OC so let me know what you think! It's my first OC in a very, very long time so sorry if the grammar is wonky in spots.
#quinn hughes#quinn hughes x reader#quinn hughes blurb#quinn hughes imagine#quinn hughes fic#vancouver canucks#quinn hughes oc
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All of your fics have me daydreaming over here 🫣
Wouldn’t it be so cute if Joel accidentally said something to you where he basically admitted that he has a crush on you, or how he finds you attractive, and how red in the face he would get- like clearing his throat and averting his gaze or trying to cover it up
Part of me also imagines it in a “miss congenitally” way where fem!reader is then teasing like “you think I’m goooorgeous, you wanna kissss me, you want to loooove me” without realizing that he’s *actually* falling for you UGH my heart
AN | Please, this is so soft and I love this concept! 🥰
Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader
Warnings | Language
Word Count | 2.2k
Masterlist | Joel, Main
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
You liked Joel. Really liked him. And you were fairly certain that he liked you too. But you were also fairly certain that he would never admit that he felt that way.
So what did that leave you with? A whole lot of fun and teasing. You might as well have some fun with it, right? Right.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
“Hello there,” as soon as you spotted Joel, you flounced over to him, a big smile on your face. He was tending to his flock of his sheep, but stopped and turned around to face you. It was cold but you could still see the pink rising up in his cheeks. You were breathless by the time you reached him, heart pitter-pattering wildly in your chest, “Joel.”
“Hey sweetheart,” you liked it when he called you that. It always made your face flush up with warmth, “what’s up?”
“Nothing,” you shrugged innocently as you hopped onto the fence and made yourself comfortable, swinging your feet back and forth. He tutted softly and eyed you suspiciously, “what?”
“Nothin,’” he echoed your words, teasing you affectionately.
“What?” your eyes widened as your mouth formed a small pout, “don’t be mean!”
“I’m not,” he laughed and oh. You like the way his singular dimple showed up, and the way his eyes crinkled in the corner. He was wickedly handsome and it always made you weak. He reached over and gently brushed a few rogue locks of hair out of your face, “I just like giving you a hard time.”
“Have you ever considered not giving me a hard time?” you took some of the feed out of the bucket and tossed it to some of his sheep.
“I have,” he mused as you raised an eyebrow softly, “and I’ve decided that I will not be doing that. It’s too much fun to mess with you-”
“Hey!”
“Affectionately,” he promised, as he watched your face go through a range of different emotions before you settled on a happy little smile, “what’re you up to you, trouble?”
“Nothing much,” you replied softly...which wasn’t a total lie. The entire truth was that you’d been looking for him because you missed him. It wasn’t even that it had been so long since you’d last seen him, you just liked being around him. You tried not to make it so obvious that you were…into him, but you weren’t sure how well you were hiding it. Considering that half of the people in Jackson teased you about it, you were pretty sure that it was…obvious, “had some time to kill and wanted to spend it with my favorite nuisance.”
“I’m the nuisance?” he scoffed playfully before pinching your side, causing you to squeal and squirm as you slid off the fence. Before you even had to worry about falling into the mud or hurting yourself, you felt a strong pair of hands wrap around your waist, “easy, trouble. Don’t want you to go hurting yourself.”
Your brain was currently consumed with the thought of him still holding onto your waist, despite the fact that he no longer needed to. You opened and closed your mouth a few times before only nodding shyly. It always seemed like he could see right into your soul, into your heart. You couldn’t hold his gaze for much longer otherwise you were sure that you’d spill all of your secrets.
“Thank you,” you whispered, slowly and reluctantly pulling out of his grasp. You swallowed thickly, before flailing your hand around, “I-I should go. I have to do…things.”
“Things,” he repeated, his accent twanging slightly on the word, “what kind of things, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“It just so happens that I do mind you asking, Miller,” you lied, finding it easy to smile one again from the affection he so openly offered you. He wasn’t a hard man by any means, not these days anymore, but he still wasn’t so free with his heart with many people. You happened to be one of the few that he cared so deeply for, “so, I gotta get going.”
“Uh huh honey,” he watched as you slipped past him and out of the small enclosure. Before running off, you turned around to offer him a meek little wave, “have fun with those things!”
“I will!” you stuck out your tongue at him, but he was laughing, “see you around, Miller!”
“See you around,” he stood there and watched you run off, a dopey little smile on his face. He exhaled slowly, shaking his head in amusement before turning back to his little flock.
“You guys make me sick,” Ellie popped out of nowhere and stood next to Joel, petting one of the sheep - Gort, which happened to be her favorite. Joel couldn’t help the deep belly laugh that escaped him; it made Ellie smile too. He was laughing a lot more these days and Ellie really liked that, “disgustingly cute.”
“What?” he looked at her in surprise, “her? Me?”
“Definitely her,” she felt a warm blush creep into her cheeks as well; she had a bit of a crush on you but it wasn’t anything serious. She nudged him in the ribs, “you’re pretty when you blush, don’t worry about it, Joel. But the two of you together - absolutely precious and heartwarming.”
“Ellie.”
“Just ask her out or something,” she suggested and Joel absolutely blushed and felt himself fumbling like a nervous boy rather than a grown man, “go to a movie, make her dinner, get a little act-”
“Ellie,” his eyes widened as the girl started to laugh, “don’t you dare finish that sentence, kid. You shouldn’t even know about that!”
“I just turned fifteen old man, in case you forgot,” yeah, she really liked to make him squirm, “we had a party and you were making eyes at her then too. Besides, I already know about sex, Joel. You don’t have to give me that talk.”
“Good - I wait, what were they teaching you in that FEDRA school?”
“Not the point - but you didn’t deny that you were making heart eyes,” she ducked out of his reach, giggling wildly as she ran in between the sheep, “ask her out!”
“You better keep running!” he started running after her, both of them laughing like the fools they were.
This life really suited both of them. Now he just needed to get the girl - you.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
"Need some help?" you turned around at the sound of his voice and almost fell off your ladder in the process. He was at your side and caught you in mere moments, "whoa there, trouble. You need to start being more careful!"
"It would help if you weren't sneaking up on me all the time," you were definitely trying to ignore the fact that he was currently holding you in his arms against his chest. He laughed, deep and hearty, and you could feel the sound vibrating in his chest.
"I don't consider it sneakin' if I'm coming up to you in broad daylight and announcing my presence," he gently set you back, and wiped some dirt off your face. His touch was a juxtaposition of rough and soft and managed to send shivers down your spine, "there - all better. Beautiful."
You'd already been warming up under his gaze but as soon as that singular word came out, you almost combusted on the spot. Part of you was sure that you had imagined it, a delusional bit of hope, but you also swore you could see the pink creeping into his cheeks.
"What did you say?" you looked at him with big, wide eyes and that's when it hit Joel. He'd actually voiced his innermost thoughts out loud. To you. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, "did you call me beautiful?"
"What? I, ugh, no?" He shrugged his shoulders as if to try and play it off. But you both knew he was lying, "I'd never say that!"
"Umm…thank you?" You were trying to keep your laughter contained. His face turned bright red and he groaned as he scrubbed a hand over his face.
"No, I didn't mean it like that. You are beautiful but I didn't mean to say it like that…?"
"Are you sure, Joel?" This time you had the upper hand as you reached over and brushed his hair out of his face, "are you asking me or telling me?"
"I'm telling you that you're beautiful-"
"Oh! So you do think I'm beautiful!" A huge smile spread across your face as Joel looked like he wished the ground would open up and swallow him while.
"I…fuck," he hung his head and sighed deeply.
"Oooh, you think I'm pretty!" You were going to have way too much fun with this. You were bouncing on your feet and gently nudging his shoulder, "Joel has a crush on me! He loves me!"
"I-" he couldn't even defend himself because everything you were saying was true. He just wasn't quite sure if he had been ready to admit that. But the way you were looking at him made it feel like you might have felt the same way.
"You wanna kiss me, don't you?" You had no clue where this burst of confidence was coming from him, but for once you liked it, "'s okay, Joel. You can admit you're madly in love with me."
Joel's head was spinning and he felt a hundred different things at once. All he knew was that it was suddenly overwhelming.
"I have to go," was all he could get out as he gently pushed past you. You made a small sound of surprise as you watched him go, his shoulders slumping. Oh. You really hoped you hadn't overstepped any boundaries or just made things completely awkward.
"Fuck," you groaned at yourself, "fuck."
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
You decided to let things cool down for a few days before seeking him out again. You really just hoped that you hadn't messed things up with him.
You found him outside the small bar, leaning against the wall and staring up at the sky. He must have sensed you because he looked over and caught your eye, a pointedly neutral expression on his face.
"Hey," you walked over to him, hesitantly but relaxed when he didn't seem to recoil.
"Hey," he replied, offering you a small nod. The two of you fell into silence for a bit as you looked up at the stars. You liked being able to see them here; they were so clear it felt like you could have touched them.
"Umm," you broke the silence after a bit and swallowed down your nerves, "Listen, I just wanted to apologize for the other day. I didn't mean to…make things weird. I shouldn't have done it."
He made a small sound before he turned to face you full on. Joel studied you for a moment, leaving your heart beating wildly. Before you even realized what was happening, he gently took your face in his hands, brushing his thumb over your cheek.
His eyes flicked to yours, almost as if searching yours for permission. You gave him the most subtle of nods and he quickly closed the gap, pressing his lips to yours in a soft, tender kiss.
When Joel did something, he didn't go halfway, he fully committed. And he kissed you as though his life depended on it, like it was the only thing he ever wanted to do in life.
You pulled apart only when you needed to breathe, and even then it was reluctant. The smile you gave him almost made him weak in the eyes but he returned it, without hesitation or question.
"What you said," he paused for a moment, "it wasn't wrong. You're right, actually. All of it was true."
"Joel, I'm -" and then it hit you, "wait, what."
"It was true," he repeated, "all of it."
"Oh," you blinked a few times, "oh. You love me?"
"I do," he confirmed and it felt like your entire body was on fire, "I guess it just took you to finally get it out of me."
"I thought I said all the wrong things," you admitted breathlessly, "I was afraid I'd fucked everything up."
"No," he promised, "you didn't at all."
"You love me," you said dreamily as Joel just grinned at you, "and I love you. Wow."
"Wow," he teased softly, "what am I going to do with you, trouble?"
"Kiss me for starters."
"Yeah," he touched your cheek softly, "I can definitely do that."
#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller x fem!reader#joel miller x you#joel miller one shot#joel miller imagine#pedro pascal#tlou#tlou hbo#the last of us
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Part 6: The Shadows Sing
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 7
Azriel didn’t know why he felt so shocked.
He had seen her use her shadows, but he didn’t believe himself. Shadowsingers were so rare! It didn’t make sense that they were two alive at the same time.
His head was spinning.
He was almost 500 years older than her, so maybe it wasn’t that weird that they were two?
She had rushed out the cabin once more. However, she let her shadows stay behind.
“Can you ask them to go away from my mouth?” He asked his shadows.
“They’re scared,” they answered.
“Tell them we won’t hurt them or their mistress,” he continued.
Azriel wouldn’t dream of hurting you. He couldn’t even think about you being hurt without going a little feral.
“They say that when Pretty Eyes’ feelings are too strong she has control over them, so they can’t let go right now. They know you won’t hurt them.”
Azriel realized something important.
“She can’t usually control them?” He asked.
“No, master,” his shadows answered. “Only hide, talk to and shadow walk.”
So she’s a secret shadowsinger and she can’t control her shadows. Doesn’t sound like an easy life.
He felt himself worry about her.
She didn’t eat, she lives alone in dangerous forests and she couldn’t control the shadows that basically was connected to her body.
“They want us to help her,” his shadows told him.
“With what?”
“Surviving.”
He had waited for her to come back for over two hours before he left. He soon realized she was doing her best to spend as much time as possible away from her cabin.
He left the rest of the food out for her to eat when she got back.
She hadn’t eaten a lot for breakfast. Azriel expected it to not be because she didn’t like it, but because she wasn’t used to having that big portions.
He hated thinking about that.
He felt himself distant the entire day. Cassian easily beat him in combat training and he didn’t manage to follow any conversations during the evening’s family dinner.
In the end, he decided to step out on the balcony to get a break. His head was spinning with thoughts.
Y/N was so young! But she still must have lived through many horrors. She must have gotten her shadows somehow. Also the naga that bit of her foot must have been traumatic. And the fact that she didn’t dear to tell anyone about her being a shadowsinger. Someone must have terrified her.
He hoped that someone wasn’t him.
He heard the door to the balcony open. The steps told him it was Nesta.
“Can I sit?” She asked him.
He just nodded and moved over to make place on the bench he sat on. She sat down.
“Cassian’s worried about you,” she stated. “I’m too. You’ve been distant lately. More than usual I mean.”
Azriel guessed he had been spending a lot of his free time away. Either in the library trying to learn about The Middle or in The Middle trying to learn about you.
“Soooo,” she continued. “Who’s the girl?”
Azriel turned to look at Nesta with an eyebrow raised.
“You’ve been way too smiling lately,” she explained. “I think everybody knows there’s someone. No one has just dared to ask.”
Azriel suddenly realized how much he needed to talk to someone about you. He felt lost. He wanted to help you, he had promised your shadows that he would, but he had no idea how.
“There’s this female,” he started. But he suddenly didn’t know how to continue.
“You’re dating?” Nesta asked.
Azriel thought for a few moments. But he was so overwhelmed by all he was feeling for you, he couldn’t communicate.
“She hadn’t even tasted chocolate for cauldrons sake!” He almost yelled out. “She’s young, she hunts for a living, she has basically no food and she hadn’t even tasted chocolate.”
Nesta only looked at him with wide eyes. It wasn’t usual for him to have such outbursts.
“I saw her on the battlefield against Hybern and have been dreaming about her ever since. And then we met again and I have done my best to get to know her, but she’s terrified. But I just can’t leave her alone.
“I’ve also recently found out something else about her. Something that changes a lot. But she won’t ever let me help her.”
It was Nesta’s turn to think.
“If she’s been living in survival mode for this long, it might be hard for her to realize that something is wrong,” Nesta tried to explain. “If she hasn’t had anyone to trust, it won’t be easy for her to trust you. If she hasn’t gotten help from anyone before, she maybe doesn’t realize you want to help.”
It did make sense.
Y/N acted skittish and she definitely had trust issues. Azriel wanted to be the person that you could trust. He needed to make sure you were save and happy in your life, but he knew you were under too much stress to life a good life.
“You have to make her realize you can help her, without you needed anything back from her,” Nesta said. “You have to learn her to ask for help.”
“What do you know about the hunting group in The Middle?” Azriel asked Rhys.
It had been a week and he still hadn’t dared to go back to you.
He had spent his days being busy with missions and told himself that he’d been too busy to visit you. Even though he knew that he did have time, but was too nervous to go.
The fact that you’re a shadowsinger too made him nervous.
He didn’t like to know that she would understand the horrors he’d been through. She’d been through similar things.
He also hated that she’d been traumatized enough for her to get her shadows.
He really wanted to hold her.
“I don’t know much,” Rhys answered. “They were forced to hunt for Amarantha, so that’s when I heard about them first.”
Azriel felt his chest lit up with anger as he realized you’d gone through terrors Under The Mountain.
For 50 years you’d hide your true powers from the most powerful person at the time. It’s not weird you lived in survival mode.
“They had to give weekly reports and they always sent the same female. The poor girl was only 18 when it all started. She had a hard time to say at least.”
Azriel felt his heart stop. Y/N was turning 70 years soon. She would have been 18 at the time Amarantha took over.
He could throw up.
Rhys had known about her?
“To be honest, I don’t even know if she’s alive,” Rhys continued.
Rhys had known about her and didn’t try to save her? He felt himself start getting mad at Rhys. This young female had gone through way too much.
“Did she have a prosthetic leg?” Azriel asked before he could think.
He needed to know.
“Yeah,” Rhys said nodding. “She had lost both her wings and her leg. Surprised she’s lived this long.”
Her wings?
Her wings!
She wasn’t only a shadowsinger, she was illyran. An illyran that lost her wings.
“How did you know that?” Rhys asked him.
He felt himself getting angrier and angrier. He tried to hold back, but he soon felt himself wanting to yell at Rhys.
Before he could start, his shadows came storming through the door.
“Pretty eyes, help, friends, help,” they were screaming at him.
Before Rhys could utter another word, Azriel had shadow walked away.
He landed in the middle of your cabin. But you weren’t there.
“Where is she?” He asked his shadows.
He soon felt something pull his wrist. He looked down and realized it wasn’t his shadow. It was a lot lighter than his, a lot smaller as well, but its determination and pull was as strong as his own.
“Can you show me?” He asked it.
He didn’t wait for an answer as he covered himself in his shadows and prepared to shadow walk away.
He landed besides a lake and soon saw you.
You sat on a stone just a few meters from the lake. You were soaked and shivering.
But what worried Azriel, was the fact that your shadows were out.
They immediately surrounded him, pulling him towards you. Azriel followed their pull. He moved slowly, trying not to startle you.
He crunched down next to you, but you didn’t acknowledge him. Your shadows moved back to you. They swirled close to you, obliviously trying to warm you.
“Hi, Y/N,” he whispered. You still only stared straight ahead. “Can you hear me?”
When your only reaction was to start shaking even more, Azriel sprung into action.
“I’m going to shadow walk us to your cabin, okay?” He asked, but he knew you wouldn’t answer. “I’m going to pick you up now.”
He moved towards you and carefully lifted you up into his arms. He made sure to move slowly, so that you could move away or signal for him to stop if you needed it. You were so light and little in his arms. He wanted to hold you forever.
To his surprise, you only snuggled deeply into his chest. The warmth that spread through Azriel’s chest lasted for multiple days.
As he landed in your cabin and carefully sat you down on your chair.
“Can you ask them to change her clothes?” He asked his shadows.
He watched his shadows intertwine with yours as they spoke. It was a weirdly wholesome to watch his companions, they looked extremely happy and relaxed.
“We’ll have to leave, but they’ll change her,” his shadows informed him.
He felt himself grow stubborn. He wouldn’t leave her, he couldn’t leave her. Not in this state. She was freezing and shaking, he needed to help her. He felt such a deep need to protect her. He wouldn’t leave her. They’d have to throw him out.
“We just have to wait outside,” his shadows informed him. “We can come back in later.”
Azriel realized just how much you meant to him.
Azriel had spent the longest three minutes of his life waiting in his shadows outside your cabin. When your shadows came to get him, he basically ran back inside.
They had helped you into your bed and had tucked you into a blanket full of holes. You had stopped shivering and you had gotten some color on your cheeks.
However, your eyes were closed and your chest raised and sank in a comfortable speed. You were asleep at home and Azriel felt himself calm down.
@i-have-a-thing-for-the-dark @saltedcoffeescotch @rcarbo1
#acotar#azriel#azriel fanfic#azriel x reader#azriel x y/n#azriel x you#azriel shadowsinger#azriel x shadowsinger!reader
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how xdh would confess to you
-> words count : 3.3k words
-> genre : xdh members crushing on you, fluff
-> warnings : is extremely cute
-> sorry if I made any mistakes, english is not my first language.
-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated !
-> masterlist | xdh masterlist
GOO GUNIL - MUSICAL
i think that he would be friendly with you from the get-go, always making sure that you feel included in the group conversation.
other than that, i see him as someone who’s very in touch with his own emotions and feelings so he would definitely be quick to notice that he has a crush on you.
but even if he’s aware of that and that it’s pretty obvious from the way he looks at you, he doesn’t want to confess.
even if he acts confident in front of you, a part of him is still anxious about being rejected.
poor baby cannot help but overthink everyone of his interactions with you, thinking that he’s cringe and awkward - which is untrue because you just think he’s so cool.
when you told him that you’d always wanted to learn how to play the drums, he nonchalantly proposed to teach you the basics.
but gunil hadn’t realized that it would mean spending a lot of time alone with you, and he couldn’t help his heart from beating faster each time he was too close to you, or that you’d look at him with a proud smile on your face because you succeeded in doing what you had just learned.
“- Did I do it right this time ?”
Gunil was so focused on not cooing at you from how cute your concentrated face was while playing on his drums, with his sticks, that he only snapped out of his haze when he heard your voice.
“- Uh, yeah, pretty much. But for this part, you should do it more like this. Here, let me show you.”
He got closer to you, his back pressed against your back as he grabbed your hands over the sticks so he could demonstrate exactly how the combo should be done. You could feel the heat of his body behind you, and his hot breath hitting the skin of your neck. You shivered and a blush started to creep up your cheeks - even your ears were red, you could feel it. Your mind drifted away from the drums, only focusing on Gunil and how he was driving you mad.
“- Y/N ? Are you alright ?”
It was your turn to be snapped out from your thoughts, quickly turning your head in his direction, only for your gaze to fall into his, his face much closer to yours than you thought. You tried to open your mouth and say something, anything to explain why you were distracted and that wasn’t the truth. But Gunil didn’t let you have any chance as he leaned in to lightly kiss you, his hands still holding yours. Your eyes widened in surprise and you let out a gasp as he pulled away.
“- I…”
Your voice was shaking, and noticing your shocked expression, Gunil cringed at himself. He let go of your hands, burying his face in his palms to shake off the embarrassment. What was he thinking when kissing you just like that ? He was an idiot.
“- Listen, I’m sorry, I don’t even know what took over me, but I’m sorry. I won’t talk about it ever again, we can forget all about it, I’m s-”
This time, it was Gunil who let out a gasp when he felt your lips crashing against his instead. He barely registered the sound of his drumsticks hitting the floor as he got lost in your taste. And this time, when you pulled away, he had a big smile on his face.
“- Took you long enough.”
“not gonna take me long to take you on a date now, baby.”
KIM JUNGSU - CHARMING
do i really need to explain that he’s the most gentleman to ever exist ?
like he’s so caring and sweet towards anyone, it makes me tear up.
so you can bet that with you - his crush - he’s even more observant and warmhearted and it feels good to have someone watching over you that much
the type to send you little texts to remind you to eat or drink water when you’re studying hard or working a long shift.
also the type to put his hands around the corner of things when you bend down so you won’t hurt yourself (i’m crying i need him so bad).
his hugs !!! oh my god i just know that he gives the best hugs ever and that he loves to engulf you in his embrace every time he sees you to say hi.
so like the gentleman he is, his confession would be so fucking romantic (i’m crying again).
he would ask you out to dinner, bringing you to a fancy place where he would’ve reserved the best table for the two of you.
praising you the whole fucking night honestly he just fell in love even more seing you in your pretty outfit, and knowing that you made so much efforts for him is making him weak in the knees.
“- Thank you so much for tonight, Jungsu. I really had a great time.”
You walked as slowly as possible, even if the night was cold and that you could still feel the chilly air despite Jungsu’s jacket sitting on your shoulders since the moment he saw you shivering. You didn’t want the night to end, nor did Jungsu. He wished he could’ve spent the rest of his life by your side, simply admiring you. Both of you had big smiles aborning your faces, hands brushing against each other without any of you daring to take it.
“- It was amazing, yeah. I should be the one thanking you for agreeing to go out with me.”
You chuckled cutely, a pretty blush spreading across your cheeks, and Jungsu couldn’t help staring at you like he did all night.
“- If I can be honest, I’m glad you made the first move because I was too anxious to do it myself.
- Then I’m glad to have man up for once.”
Both of you laughed together, and disappointment filled you up when you noticed that you were now in front of your building, and that the night would’ve to end eventually. You stood in front of Jungsu, finally finding the courage to grab his hands in yours as your eyes dived into his sparkling gaze.
“- I know I’ve said it a million times now, but thank you for tonight. And I think I really wouldn’t mind going out with you again.
- I’ll keep that in mind, then.”
Jungsu grinned at you, and the urge to kiss your lips overtook him. But it was only your first date, he didn’t want to overstep any boundaries. So he simply squeezed your hand in his one last time, wished you good night, and turned away. He wanted to slap himself for being such a coward. He had only took three or four steps in the direction of his car before he said “fuck it” and got back to you.
“- Jungsu ? What are yo-”
You were interrupted by his lips capturing yours, his hands cupping your face. You closed your eyes as you melted under his touch, your hands going up to wrap around his neck and kissing him back. Soon enough, it was impossible to keep on going because you both were smiling too much. Jungsu pulled away, his forehead resting against yours and pushing a stray hair behind your ear.
“- I’ve waited all night for you to do this.”
“if i had known that, i would’ve kissed my girlfriend sooner.”
KWAK JISEOK - CHILDISH
he’s truly so fun to be around, a day with him is never boring.
you like to pretend like he’s not that funny, but he is, and he makes you laugh all the time.
you know that when you have a bad day, you only need to spend some time with jiseok and that he will cheer you up without even trying because his mere presence just makes you feel better.
he’s so comfortable to be around, it’s like you had known him for years.
jiseok is also very playful too, he loves to tease and especially you.
that’s how the members know he has a crush on you ; because he’s constantly bugging you, trying to get your attention.
whenever you walk in a room, his eyes suddenly illuminate, and whenever you walk away or talk to somebody else, he looks like a lost puppy (i’m dying, he’s too cute).
he thinks he’s slick, but he’s really not - the way he’s always trying to rizz you up kinda gives it away.
he pretends it’s only for fun and giggles, but truly, he hopes that one day you’ll catch on because he wants to go out with you.
“- Hey Y/N !”
You sighed and rolled your eyes as Jiseok put his arm around your shoulders, a smirk already stretching out his lips. You already knew what he was going to do, he always did whenever he saw you. And you acted annoyed every time even if you lowkey liked the attention, even if it didn’t bother you that much.
“- What do you want this time, Jiseok ?
- Just wanted to ask you something.”
You could feel the pick up line coming, you knew him all too well by now.
“- Go on.
- Do you believe in love at first sight ? Or should I walk by again ?”
The proud grin on his face didn’t flatter, even as you groaned in annoyance. Jiseok wouldn’t let your lack of positive reactions discourage him. He didn’t have the balls to tell you all about what he was feeling straight up, and the only way he knew to confess was by telling all these stupid pick up lines. If only he wasn’t such a loser, he could’ve asked you out, tell you he liked you. But everytime he looked at you for too long, his hands were shaking and it was as if he couldn’t even talk properly anymore, and he chickened out everytime.
“- I don’t think it’s gonna be necessary, I’m already in love.”
Jiseok was ready to manage another rejection but hearing you flirt back left him speechless. He opened his mouth and closed it without letting out any words a few times, his cheeks progressively growing more and more red. You chuckled at his lack of reaction, finding him even more cute like that.
“- Cat got your tongue now ? Come on ! You’ve been flirting with me for months and now that I’m finally saying yes you’re getting shy ?
- You just catched me off guard, that’s all !”
It was your turn to grin proudly as Jiseok buried his blushing face into your shoulder. He was so fucking embarassed, but he couldn’t help the smile stretching out his lips.
“does this mean i can finally take you out ?”
OH SEUNGMIN - JOKING
he’s a menace, always up to tease you with a pretty smirk on his face.
but he’s also very sweet because he has a soft spot for you, it’s honestly pathetic from his members point of view how down bad he is for you.
seungmin is constantly praising you, even for the tiniest things : you did good at your exams = praises ; or you cooked something new and it was tasty = praises.
he’s also always complimenting you, be it your outfits, your hair or makeup ; you can bet that he will tell you you’re pretty as soon as he sees you.
he’s a little playful with it, calling you darling just to see the blush spread on your cheeks.
however, he’s not immune to the effect you have on him either, and he doesn’t really try to hide it.
you could only be smiling at him, or passionately talking about something you liked and he’s grinning like a lovestruck fool because he thinks you’re so amazing.
even if sometimes you feel like you can be annoying or boring, seungmin always makes sure to remind you that he’s there to listen to you, that he’s interested.
despite that, he would not confess first because you already know how infatuated he is with you, he wants you to make the first move.
“- Seungmin ! It’s not funny, I need to study ! Give me my book !”
The boy chuckled as he held out your book higher, clearly out of your reach. He wasn’t doing this to be mean, obviously. You just looked so cute with the pout aborning your lips, and the way you jumped to try and get your belongings back was also too adorable for him to give up just now.
“- You don’t need to study, darling, you’re already smart.”
You wanted to stay mad at him but his praises made you flustered once again, still not used to the way he was always adoring you. But you really needed to work on this, because you didn’t want to fail your classes, obviously.
“- It’s not a good reason, give it back !
- Only if you give me a kiss.”
Seungmin was visibly very satisfied with what he came up with, his smirk widening as your pout intensified. He didn’t believe that you would be bold enough to do it, but it wouldn’t hurt to ask. Little did he know you had enough of his games. You were already smitten by him, he didn’t need to aggravate that by flirting with you every chance he got.
“- Okay, if that’s what it takes.”
You stood on your tippy toes to reach his lips, lightly kissing him as you closed your eyes. Seungmin didn’t even have the time to register what was happening before he let go of your book, his now free hands coming down to hold your waist and kiss you again. When you pulled away, surprise was still visible in his eyes, and it was your turn to chuckle.
“- For once, you’re the one blushing.”
“not for long, darling. it’s my duty as your boyfriend, after all.”
HAN HYEONGJUN - SHY
my favourite boy ! he’s so cute i think he’s gonna kill me one day, i swear.
when gunil first introduced you to the guys, hyeongjun was very quiet and didn’t talk to you much.
it wasn’t that he didn’t want to, it was only that you were so amazing that he didn’t know how to approach you.
so you’ll have to make the first move to engage in conversation with him, but despite him being a little shy at first, you discover that he’s sweet and passionate, and that you love him very much.
and hyeongjun loves you very much too, so much that it’s painfully obvious for everyone else to watch.
so much that his members started to tease him about his crush on you, even if you’re there. hyeongjun denies and denies all the time, especially since you’re joking about it too and that he’s convinced it’s because you’re not interested in him.
despite that, you seem to really enjoy your time with him as you’re always seeking his answers in group talking, or waiting to spend time alone with him.
“- Hey, Hyeongjun ! Look who’s coming !”
Hyeongjun turned around and discovered that you were the one Jiseok was talking about. His friend had a big grin on his face as he witnessed Hyeongjun cheeks’ growing red as you entered their dorm. Sometimes, he hated his band members for being able to read into him that easily.
“- Hi guys ! How are you ?
- Well, Hyeongjun is always well when you’re here, Y/N.”
Yes, he definitely hated Jiseok, he would have to sleep with one eye open that night. He glared at his friend coldly, but you only giggled and teased him further. It hurt a little sometimes to have you laughing at his crush like that, even if he always said it wasn’t true, he wished it would be.
“- Do you need help ?”
Hyeongjun was straddled by your voice as you came into the kitchen where he was finishing up cooking for everyone. He told you what you could do to help him and he tried to stop his hands from shaking and kept a casual conversation with you.
“- The boys seem really adamant about your crush, they love to tease you about it.”
You weren’t looking at him when you said that but you had a little grin on your lips. Hyeongjun stared at you for a few seconds, trying to decide if he should say something now or not, but his heart took the decision for him before his brain could think about it further.
“- Would it be so bad if I really had a crush on you ?”
You snapped your head up to look at him, but he couldn’t hold your gaze for long, his cheeks heating up again the longer he felt your eyes on him. Your eyes were sparkling with joy, your smile eating your face as you watched him nervously run his hand through his long hair. You stopped him from biting his nail when you carefully grabbed his hand, his eyes finally falling into yours.
“- Well, since I have a crush on you too, I don’t think it would be a problem.”
“i’m gonna be the one to tease them now because i have the prettiest girlfriend in the world.”
LEE JOOYEON - SILLY
he has such a good vibe, i feel like you can only smile and be happy when you’re with him.
he’s the type of friend you can do stupid things with and he isn’t gonna judge you because he does stupid things too.
he could be considered childish at times, but you love it because you can do everything you want with him and he makes you laugh so much.
definitely the first one you come to whenever you feel down, and he’s extremely grateful that you’re this comfortable with him.
i think he would be very touchy with you, he always wants to hug you or cuddle when you’re both watching a movie.
his other way to hint that he has a crush on you is by flirting every so often, with this cheeky smile of his (screaming).
so when a game night gives him the perfect occasion to make a move, jooyeon is gonna take it.
“- Okay so your task is to propose to someone !”
Jooyeon immediately locked eyes with you upon hearing his dare. It was finally his chance to tell you how he had been feeling for some time now. You grinned at him like you did every time you knew he was going to do something a little stupid. Jooyeon got down on one knee in front of you, grabbing one of your hands in his and looking you in the eyes.
“- Y/N, will you make me the happiest man alive and be my wife ?”
If you hadn’t known him for years, you would’ve thought that he was serious. The way Jooyeon seemed to really be waiting for an answer made your breath hitch in your throat, your heart beat faster and butterflies come alive in your stomach.
“- I guess I don’t have a choice.”
Everyone around you was whistling and screaming “kiss”. And honestly, you wanted to do it. You wanted to reach forward and kiss Jooyeon. You searched for a response in his eyes, but all you could see was adoration. So you didn’t think further and you cupped his face to peck his lips. This time, it was his breath that was knocked out of his lungs, his brain unable to process what had just happened. And as all your friends cheered, the world around you dissolved, tunnel vision to Jooyeon’s face that you were still holding gently.
“- You know… I wouldn’t mind becoming your wife for real.”
That big smile you loved so much took over his features, making it hard for him to kiss you again, and again, and again. You were giggling the whole time, letting Jooyeon hold you in his arms and twirl you around as if you really were a newly married couple.
“it’s too soon for now, but one day i’ll do it. one day i’m gonna marry you, baby.”
-> i don't allow any copies, reposts or translations of my work.
#xdinary heroes#xdh#xdinary heroes x reader#xdh x reader#xdinary heroes fluff#xdh fluff#gunil x reader#goo gunil#jungsu x reader#kim jungsu#jiseok x reader#kwak jiseok#gaon x reader#seungmin x reader#oh seungmin#o.de x reader#junhan x reader#hyeongjun x reader#han hyeongjun#jooyeon x reader#lee jooyeon
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