#been so long since i watched it i had to search the title of the movie...

[kiurit]

the actors (2003) dir. conor mcpherson

#the actors #* #been so long since i watched it i had to search the title of the movie... #always relevant!

[xerotiny99]

2 AM Call // Our Precious #1

2 AM Call (Our Precious series #1)

M.list ┃Next Part

Pairing: Jeong Yunho x Reader

Warning: dom!yunho, sub!reader, suggestive, sexting, phone sex, a lot of dirty talk (seriously, really filthy), masturbating, etc...

Note: if any of the above-mentioned topics trigger you then you can click off. :) also, do not proceed if you're below 18.

An Extra Note: this is a mini - or - a long series, and I'm too lazy to make a different book for it. Hence, I'll be adding all the planned/written chapters of this series in this book. It'll be in second person pov, but instead of writing [y/n] — cause I'm too lazy, really — I'll be writing Angel. So, the reader's name is Angel for this series. This series revolves around polygamy, which means the reader will be involved with ot8; the chapters will unfold slowly from the beginning and follow a storyline.

Gist: being in your sophomore year of college, you meet a very cute and handsome bookstore clerk. You happen to exchange numbers and on the same night, he's all you can think about. When you decide to ring him up, it's 2 AM and both of you have different things on your minds.

Word Count: 5,471

Lehninger.

Lehninger.

Albert Lehninger.

Principles of Biochemistry.

         You grumble under your breath, shifting your eyes chaotically around the shelves of hardcover books aligned in alphabetical order. The wooden shelves feature biochemistry books, and out of all these, you needed only one, which apparently was too hard for your eyes to search. Scorching sun outside is far less preferable than the air conditioning of the second-hand bookstore you were in, so you decide to stay in and pass a few more minutes looking through the books.

Maybe, you could find something worthwhile in store, perhaps something other than textbooks and thesis unrelated to your university work. Sighing, you bend over slightly to grasp the titles inscribed on the spines of several other books.

"It could be here, maybe." you thought to yourself.

"Hi, how can I help you?" a cheery yet raspy voice cuts through your thoughts, "are you looking for a specific book?"

Your attention turns towards the humbly speaking man, and once your gaze falls onto him, and his smile, you hold your breath. He was...ethereal; clad in a beige coloured cardigan and a white turtleneck under it, the man's demeanour was stoic and poised yet friendly and warm. Towering over and looking down at your petite stature, he smiles widely, politely waiting for you to reply. You take a minute longer to stare and notice all finer details on his face; his porcelain skin, pretty pink lips, a straight nose—almost sculpted, and his innocently shaped doe eyes just boring into yours.

There it goes without saying, you were drooling over him. He was attractive, no doubt, but the way he offered you a benign smile made your heart lurch a bit was far more beguiling than his looks. In all seriousness, it had been more than a minute or two since you had been silently checking him out; you had failed to notice the heap of books he was holding in his arms before, but now that you do, you mentally groan at his bulging arms with prominent veins on the back of his hands.

"Hello—"

"—yeah, no. I mean, I was actually looking for...Lehninger—um, biochemistry?" you stutter and ramble, lastly stringing your words into a question.

"Oh, wait. Give me a minute, I'll check it in our database." Carrying the books in his hands, he nudges you to follow him with a nod.

You do cluelessly follow him but enjoy the view of his rear; you really needed to snap out of it! He guides you to the front desk where the cash register was situated, and a computer was stowed away on the other side of it. Thump the books go, having been put down on the desk by him before he leans over the computer to type. Standing on the other side of the desk, you watch him do the work, with your arms folded over your chest.

In the heat of the moment, you're reeling back to checking him out; silverbluish hair styled in a mullet, the puffy strands kissing the collar of his turtleneck, his eyelashes batting every two seconds at the blaring computer screen—you bite down on your lip when libidinous thoughts swarm your mind. His hands, those sleek fingers pressing down the keys on keyboard...how good would those feel as they're pumping in and out of your cunt.

"Oh, okay. Got it!" he squeals softly, turning to you, "looks like we've got one copy of the sixth edition. Would that be alright?"

You flinch, snapping from your thoughts and realising you really needed to get laid, at least to get your mind straight.

"Ah," you take some time to comprehend his words, "sure. I don't mind, to be honest. Only need it as a reference for my assignment."

"You could've issued this book at the university library, why didn't you?" he asks, stepping out from the counter and guiding you back to the wooden shelves.

You look at your feet, stumbling behind him, unsure of what to say. "I believe it's better to have a personal copy instead of issuing it from the library since I'm going to need till my senior year. Couldn't afford a new one, so I thought why not invest in a second-hand."

He heaves out a gentle chuckle, halting his steps in front of a shelf. "That's fair. So, Horizon University?"

"Yeah," you mumble. "Got a scholarship and everything...how did you..."

"It's the only university close by, and I'm in my senior year there, well, at the end of it—only one more month left till I graduate." he starts rummaging through the racks in the shelf to find your book. "Dance major."

"Sophomore year here, zoology major." he hums, looking at you and pulls out a thick book from the shelf. You continue in a hushed voice, "I've still got two years left in that hellhole."

"You don't like the university?" he questions, as a matter of factly.

"No. Not really. Not that I know I can't make friends for fucks sake," you state.

"You haven't met the right kind of people yet, it's fine. You will soon." he flashes you a toothy grin. "Do you need anything else?"

"No, I'm good." you whisper, "I'll hopefully vibe with someone soon, can't be alone all the time."

"Like I said, you will. Hang in there," he reassures you with his smile going deep in his cheeks, "I'll ring this up for you, come on."

By the cash register, you pay the respective amount while he puts the book in a paper bag having the store's name printed on top of it.

As he hands you the bag, he chimes, "there you go."

You take the bag in your hands, but don't leave just yet; you didn't want to leave him. Drawn to his charismatic presence, you stay behind for a long second. You're staring into each other's eyes, intently lingering onto the disguised inklings in either of your minds. The space around you seems so suffocating, heavy and laden with thick air. In the pit of your stomach, there's an urge you want to act on, you want to tear your gaze away from him and continue on with the rest of your day.

But you can't.

And your heart doesn't want to, thinking there's a possibility of you engaging with him on a romantic level.

From the corner of your eye, you watch his lips twitch into a tiny smile; he scurries his hand on the desk and pulls out one of the store's business cards. He has a sharpie ready on him, and scribbles something on the back of the card.

"Just in case, here's my number. Give me a call, or a text. Would like to hang out with you some time," he slides the cards across the desk to you, "I'm Yunho, by the way."

You take the card and slip it in the pocket of your dress; yes, you wore a clingy summer dress with pockets because pockets are a lifesaver.

"My name's Angel."

"I look forward to hearing from you, Angel."

And you did find something better in there, other than books.

The day rolls by as smoothly as it should, after leaving the bookstore you make your way back to your dorm room in the university to keep the book in your room and grab your laptop as you decide to spend the rest of your morning in the campus cafe. Musty notes of coffee linger in the air while you save Yunho's contact into your phone and work a little on your assignment. All your lectures, you whiled the time thinking about Yunho—his face, his voice, his fingers, his body—you were starting to realise how reprehensibly had this man taken up every fraction of your mind.

You weren't complaining, though. But it was proving to be very distracting amidst your lectures. Coming back to your dorm room, lethargic from the humdrum day of lectures and practical work, you lay in your bed. Mindlessly, you pick your phone and go through your socials, especially Yunho's. He has to have an Instagram page at least. And to your surprise, he does. You come across a public account with few of his photos. You didn't get to see much of him however, as the photos were mostly of him either looking away from the camera or hiding his face behind his hands. Heaving an exasperated sigh, you lock your phone and go on about the rest of your day.

As night dawns in, you're back in your bed after eating dinner. You've done all of your nightly routine and are freshly showered. You wear a dark brown cardigan over your black lingerie; really not in the mood to change into sleepwear because of the buzzing heat of summer. Again, mindless thoughts pop in your head and you grab your phone to check any texts from your nonexistent friends. It's not like you didn't have any friends, you didn't prefer to make friends—regardless, you did have one friend in the entirety of your university. He was a bunny-eyed man with deep brown hair, and a baby yet stoic face; Choi Jongho. But you spoke to him occasionally and only interacted when needed to.

Opening the messaging app on your phone, you almost make sure to have a double take when you see Yunho's name at the top with very recent messages from him. Yep. It was him. You checked it twice only to be sure and it was his contact number. Stifling a squeal, you open your chats.

Yunho: Hey! Just wanted to make sure you got to your dorm room safely. And how's that book working out for you?

[Sent 22:39 pm Read 1:06 am]

So, he needed an excuse to text you. How adorable.

You: Hi Aren't you quick to text me? ^^ It's alright. And... The book makes me want to hit my head against a wall.

[Sent 1:07 am Read 1:07 am]

Yunho: Ouch :( I have no idea what works in biochemistry. Sadly. But hang in there! And ofc Thought I'd keep you company since you're a loner.

[Sent 1:09 am Read 1:10 am]

You: I have friends, mister!

[Sent 1:10 am Read 1:12 am]

Yunho: Yeah You do Imaginary friends don't count.

[Sent 1:12 am Read 1:13 am]

You: I do have a friend! Don't underestimate me.

[Sent 1:14 am Read 1:15 am]

Yunho: "a" friend I'm not tbh But who's this friend?

[Sent 1:16 am Read 1:17 am]

You: He's in my department We've got couple of classes together

[Sent 1:17 am Read 1:18 am]

Yunho: well then I'll let you talk to him

[Sent 1:19 am Read 1:19 am]

You felt a pang of pain bubble in your chest, but your mind couldn't figure out why you were hurting over his response.

You: Why do you sound mad?

[Sent 1:19 am Read 1:35 am]

Yunho: I'm not :)

[Sent 1:35 am Read 1:36 am]

You: k.

You roll your eyes and blink away the weirdness. Now, your silly anguish had been replaced with anger and frustration. In fact, you wondered why you felt so silly about this ordeal when he was the one to initiate texting you. They say men have a golden rule of texting, that is, they'd wait three days until texting. But it turns out Yunho was little too eager to talk to you. Shaking your head, you sit up straight in your bed and puff your cheeks. Your eyes glaze over your reflection in the full-length mirror in front of your closet.

An idea sparks your curiosity, and you smirk to yourself. Bringing your phone back in your hand, you angle it at a specific point to get your entire body in the frame. You take a mirror selfie, perched by the edge of the bed, your cardigan loosely hanging over your shoulder to expose your lingerie and a good amount of your cleavage, your hair flowing down on one side of your shoulder, and your eyes remain emotionless. Having no perceivable clue of your behaviour, you slump yourself back in bed and purposely send the picture to Yunho. You wait for a minute to pass when you text him back.

You: *sent attachment*

You: Oh god! Didn't meant to send it to you. Can you delete it, please?

[Sent 1:45 Read 1:45]

Yunho: Oh ... Well I saw it. And it's only fair if you... *sent attachment*

[Sent 1:46 Read 1:47]

You feel the buzz in your head, upon checking out the attachment he sent you. Thinking it'd be a normal photo, you didn't pay too much attention to it, but maybe you should have, and you did exactly at your second take of the photo. It was him, obviously; he was sitting in a gaming chair, legs widespread, wearing his loose sweatpants under a haze of dim lights of his room. One of his hands held his phone as he clicked the picture, while the other palmed his crotch. And then you saw it, his boner, protruding from the sweatpants. You mentally tried to gauge his size by the pronounced outline on his pants. And you were impressed.

The heaviness in your head grows when you notice his sly smirk in the photo, and the bulging veins on both of his hands; he wanted to rile you up, just the way you did. Though, if there could be a difference, you did it out of spite and he was doing it to get back to you. Squeezing your thighs together, you tried to control your urges, the same stupefying urges you got when you saw him in the bookstore this morning. The suppression of your desire leads to you heaving out a deep breath, wanting to get back at him for ruining your peace with that photo.

You: someone's all worked up. what were you thinking about?

[Sent 1:50 am Read 1:51 am]

Yunho: Just something Or someone

[Sent 1:51 am Read 1:52 am]

You: I wouldn't mind taking a peek in your head ;)

[Sent 1:53 Read 1:53]

Yunho: Do you really want to know what I'm thinking about?

[Sent 1:54 Read 1:55]

You: Yes Unless you don't want to.

[Sent 1:56 Read 1:57]

Yunho: I'd be the one to ask you that Are you sure you want to know?

[Sent 1:57 Read 1:58]

For some reason you could picture him with a conceited smile on his face, still sitting on the chair and his legs wide apart while he rubs his cock through his sweats.

You: You like teasing don't you?

Yunho: Oh I love it

You: I'll tell you what. I've been thinking about you since the morning

Yunho: Hmm Likewise I've been thinking about all the things I'd do to you if you were here with me

You: and what would you do?

You draw in a sharp breath, chest heaving up and down when your mind fogs with the thoughts of him doing filthy things to you.

Yunho: For the starters... I'd gently kiss your lips While ripping the buttons off your sweater Taking it off Letting my hands roam your body

Reading his texts, you pull at the buttons on your sweater, one by one and eventually shrugging it off from your body. You tremble slightly as you proceed to text him with one hand.

You: Go on...

Yunho: I'd pin you to the bed Make sure your hands are above your head Kiss you so hungrily. use my hands to feel all of you. And take off whatever that's remaining on your body Id tease you a hell a lot Fukc Ferl your bdy shuddre under mine when I drg my fingerss down to yor wet pussy Pusj my fingers deep in you knuckles feep Make you mewl as my fingers pumped in and out ... Fuck I want you so bad

That was the point of no return for you, you were deeply invested in this game, in this stupid act of desperation where all you could think about was his texts. It brings your colourful imagination to mind, visualising his texts as you rub your fingers on your now-aroused cunt through your dripping wet panties. you noticed the typos in his texts, probably from him typing with his one hand while his other remained busy. 

Taking a deep breath, you rest against the headboard of your bed, your legs spread a little to make it easier for your hands to rub you. You bite your lip, thinking more of him, thinking of his sleek fingers sawing you out while he's knuckles deep in your cunt.

You: I want you too So so bad I want your fingers in me I want you to loosen me up nice for your cock to pound into me

You finally decide to push your panties to the side, while ghosting your fingers over your clit before you let them submerge in your heat. Your arousal coats your fingers as they slick back and forth, at a steady pace, in your cunt. Your mind is already long gone to the end where you were only yearning for him to make you feel good. Noticing how your phone hadn't buzzed for a long time, you shift your attention to it and instead of his texts, you see him calling you. Hesitation knocks at your door, but you're too far gone from rationality to think about it. As you answer his call and press your phone to your ear, you hear his ragged breathing. It brushes your ear and tickles you, springing up goosebumps on your skin, as though he was right next to you in your bed.

"You really know how to make a man all worked up, don't you?" he hisses, "don't worry, princess. I'll make you feel good."

You take in another deep breath through your mouth, bringing your fingers out of your cunt. Hovering them over your chest, you push the cups of your bra down and grope your breasts; you pinch your nipples, fondle and knead your tits to get yourself in the mood. He doesn't know about it, but your fantasies run wild—with him as he fills his hands with your tits, groping and fondling them, maybe even more.

"What is my Angel doing right now? Are you touching yourself at the thought of me pinning you down to the bed and fucking you relentlessly?" he asks, and your mind pictures it word to word.

"Yes. I want you to—I want you to fuck me foolish—make me—make me see stars—while—while your cock rams into me..." you stutter, struggling to strip yourself out of your lingerie.

"Pretty filthy thoughts for a beautiful face like yours, Angel." His tone is teasing as he continues, "wanting a stranger you just met to do all these vile things to you...you're a cum-slut aren't you?"

Dirty talk was never your cup of tea, it made you cringe internally but there was something about Yunho's deep and sultry voice that made you wet, insanely wet. You bite your lip, conscience half gone to the sound of his trembling breathing, and rub your clit—the sensation only brings butterflies in your stomach, because in your mind those were his fingers and not yours. In your mind everything you did to yourself was replaced with him, and it was enough to get you started.

Biting back on a moan, you reply, "yeah...I want you to—I want you to do all the vile stuff to me."

You hear certain shuffling in the background alongside a long pause and then, your ears catch up on his soft little grunts. Nothing prepared your imagination for what you were thinking; him in his bed or just in his gaming chair, with his cock out, stroking himself at the thought of you.

"Your—your wish is my command," he growls, his deep voice resonating in your ear, "would love to finger your tight little cunt, drawing out these pretty moans from your mouth..."

You slide one finger down your slit, and eventually ease it in your hole; it brought discomfort at first, a little, but when you started moving it deep within you, you felt your walls clench slightly around it.

"Fuck...yes, I want you to spread—spread me open with your fingers."

He did not need to know that you were fingering yourself, your voiceless grunts and whispers were enough for him to imagine it. Picturing you plunge your fingers into your cunt, he increases the pace of his hand stroking his cock; though, he keeps himself steady. He couldn't really help himself and gradually increases the rhythm of his movements.

"Add another finger, baby." he mumbles, closing his eyes and leaning back against his chair.

You oblige, adding another finger in your hole.

"How does it feel?"

"Good—feels good, Yunho." You mewl his name, scissoring your fingers inside of you.

"You're doing great, princess. Now, curl your fingers..." he manages to squeak out in a whisper, pumping his cock with busy motions.

His chest rises and falls rhythmically to your moans, and you do as he says; curling your fingers inside you, you feel a certain warmth lingering in your stomach. You were getting close to your climax, without even having to anything more—the knot strikes a jolt of tightness in the pit of your stomach, and you moan out loud. Really loud.

"I want you to feel me, Yunho." you breathe out, aroused. "I want to feel you too—feel your cock sliding in and out of me—fucking me good with it."

"Oh baby," he goes silent for a second, focused on stroking himself, "I'll fuck you good—I'll fuck you till you're begging for me to stop..."

"Ah fuck," you arch your back off the mattress, trying to chase your high.

Your fingers plunge in and out, increasing tension in your stomach and gut; your tightness was gradually easing up, and so you decide to insert another finger in. The stretch stung, however, pleasurable, making you whimper his name out loud.

"Yunho...!"

"Yes, baby, I know." he winces in diversion. "Hold on a little longer, I'm close—I'm close too."

He breathes out, increasing the pace of his hand; his cock slick with his precum and it spreads along the shaft as he continues to pump himself. You could hear the strain in his voice, indicating you, he indeed was close to his own climax; you were too, knowing your fingers were hitting your sweet spot every time they thrusted in you. Keeping your phone on loudspeaker, you set it on the nightstand and use your other hand to rub your clit. You increase the pace of your fingers, flesh squelching, your juices lightly lapping against your fingers—the knot tightens delicately in your stomach as your tempo remains constant.

Yunho bucks his hips into hands, composing himself as he thrusts his cock into his hand, thinking about your tight cunt. He has a colourful mind too, picturing himself rocking his hips so that his cock hits all of your deepest parts. His lungs convulse, fighting the urge to moan but it breaks out of his lips anyway. He moans your name, shaking and struggling to hold his phone next to his ear—he does the same as you, sets his phone aside while keeping it on speaker.

"Such a dirty little slut, fingering herself to the thought of my cock thrusting into her," his voice gives you a push, fuels your soul with the fire it lacked. In retrospect, he needed something too, to tip him off his edge as he fucked his hand. "Fuck...needs my cock to make her happy..."

"Yes, please," you cry, tears rolling down the side of your face as your fingers do their work.

Your high was approaching you, so close, almost there. The limit to hold it in was past the point, he could say something and you would be riding down your orgasm—you needed him, his voice, his words. On the other hand, Yunho's patience was running thin, he wanted to finish it off—feeling the warmth of his hand pushing him to his edge, he smirks to himself and throws his head back.

"Are you close, princess? Cause I am..." he grunts.

You nod your head, pursing your lips together to make a gentle sound of humming. You didn't realise it yet, but you were bucking your hips to your fingers, letting them curl and slip in deep inside you; grinding your hips against your fingers, you let out a satisfied groan—the tightness in the pit of your stomach comes undone. Rummaging your hand to hold the headboard behind you, you brace yourself as your high washes over you with a vehement intensity. You let our shaky breaths, well beyond being breathless, as your fingers slowly make their way out of your heat. Your chest rises and falls, tremors spread under your skin with your juices dripping down your inner thighs.

"Fuck, princess..."

His groan is a little static, coming from your phone as it leaves your imagination to run wild. You picture him slumped in his chair with his load spurting out to stain his lower abdomen and clothes. In reality, Yunho breathes through his mouth, letting it fall agape when his high comes crashing down onto him. He had never felt such rush of satisfaction by only indulging himself with you on call; he had never felt himself cumming so hard for anyone with any real action, but here he was, panting and shaking, stroking off his climax as he grimaced at his hand full of his cum.

There's a long moment of silence between you two, and in that silence, the post-orgasm clarity sinks deep within you. The thought of you being so indecent with a man you met in the morning, not even knowing him for more than a day, brought some coherence to your mind. Though, the best is to let it go and keep it in your bounds of inadvertent thrills of late night.

Your body feels languid, and tired; wondering the same for him.

"That was..."

"It happened in the moment," Yunho breathlessly pronounces, "we're just two strangers who have nothing to do with each other, right?"

"Well..."

You sit straighter in your bed, staring at your phone as you bite your lip; you were waiting for him to speak.

"Well what?" he mumbles, a sly smile stretching his lips.

"I thought...never mind. I'm way over in my head." You shrug it off, pulling the sheets over your body as the embarrassment drowned you out. "It's fine, we'll pretend this never happened."

"What? Are you crazy?" his voice is much clear now, with the obvious tone of bewilderment. "Gosh, Angel. You don't know how hard I came for you. I can't pretend this never happened; instead, I wouldn't mind giving us..."

He trails, dragging his words in a whisper with hopes of you completing him. "...giving us a try, like just keeping our relationship exclusive to sex?"

"If you're down for it." he mumbles, "I don't want to do anything that you're uncomfortable with."

"I'll think about it."

You smiled to yourself, thinking about that possibility. When the sun rose to a new day, you found yourself pondering. Not exactly in the 'deep venture' of it, but you just kept your mind busy with Yunho's proposal and thought of the consequences if you were to ever agree to it. Friends with benefits with a soon-to-graduate hot senior? That sounds tempting, a lot, it also fuels your infatuation with him. But on the other hand, you didn't want to go down that road with him. There were second thoughts in your mind, of course there'd be—you maybe, sort of, liked this man, after all, he does give off the vibes that he'd be a great boyfriend. You didn't want to ruin that possibility with him.

The rest of your day goes as scheduled, you attend a few of your lectures in the morning. Currently, it's afternoon and you have last of your classes to attend. Amidst all the excitement and stress, your friend, Jongho texts you, asking you to get him your lab-coat for his practical class. You find him standing in front the chemistry department, smiling and engaged in a chatter with someone else. And upon noticing it from afar, the person who he was talking to was Yunho. It was such a contrast, both were happy-go-lucky kind of guys, but Jongho seemed more innocent than Yunho (after the night you had spent with him, it was hard to picture him being anything but innocent). You could make it out from his tall built, and silver-bluish hair styled in a mullet, regardless with his back facing you. Hesitation stricken, you somehow manage to make your way to him; because Jongho had already noticed you even before you turn around and run away.

"There she is!" Jongho glees, and Yunho turns around, meeting your eyes. "Thank you so much for bringing it, I really despise prof. Yuen when he gets all judgmental about 'forgetting' to bring a lab-coat to his practical class."

"Hey, no worries," you smile at him, handing him your lab-coat. "I have his practical class day after tomorrow, till then the coat is yours." You laugh it off, awkwardly glancing at Yunho.

Jongho notices the out-of-ordinary ogles you made at Yunho, chiming in, "oh right, Angel, this is Yunho. I live with him and six other guys. But that's not important and ummm.." he looks at Yunho, scratching the back of his neck, "she's Angel, my only friend in this university."

Yunho smiles warmly at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he does. "Oh so, it's her you can't stop chattering about?" he chuckles lightly, "and what do you mean 'your only friend' aren't we your friends too?"

Jongho rolls his eyes, "you guys are nothing but a pain in the ass. Just today, in the morning Wooyoung and San drank all the milk and kept empty containers back in the refrigerator. I had to crunch on cereals before heading out for my morning classes."

"So, are you tainting all others because of those two individuals?" Yunho retorts.

You purse your lips together, ineptly crossing your eyes between them; you were aware of Jongho's living condition, but you could have never expected Yunho to be one of his flatmates. It was true, Jongho lived with seven other guys from the university, some of them having a full time job, and at times he would complain about them to you. Though you never really focused too much on what he had to say, or even catch their names.

"Uhhh..." you trail, offering them a tight lipped smile.

"Angel, come on, back me up." Jongho grumbles.

"I can't say anything about your flatmates, Jongho." The chestnut-haired man rolls his eyes, and you continue, "but I've always listened to your rants."

"I bet you're a good listener, Angel." Yunho taunts you, "and an even better friend to him."

"She is," Jongho breaks out in a smile. "Hey, you should totally come over on Thursday. We've got a game night planned."

"Uh, Jongho, I don't think I'd want to play board games with eight guys." You mutter under your breath.

"Who said we play board games?" Yunho says, drawing his brows together. "Though, it'll be fun for a while, having a girl over."

"Yes, Angel. You should consider it. Just—just think about it okay?" the enthusiasm in Jongho's voice isn't hard to ignore. "Now, I've got a class, so I'll see you in a bit."

With that he disappears, leaving you and Yunho stranded alone with nothing to talk about or a lot to talk about.

"What a lovely coincidence," Yunho begins, smiling at you, "the girl he talked about was you all along; well, he painted a pretty picture of you in our heads."

"I see Jongho as anything but more than a friend." you pout, "and this game night, should I even consider coming?"

"Well, it depends on you, princess," he smirks, "it depends on whether or not you could keep your hands to yourself. Because I'll be there."

"Oh, don't put yourself on a high pedestal, mister." You roll your eyes, "I'll think about it."

"Don't you have a lot to think about already?" he steps closer to you, towering over you as he leans close to your ear, "I don't think I can go on without touching you for the entire time you'd be there, so really do think about it."

He straightens up and mumbles one last time before leaving you completely high and dry.

"And if you do come, I will really fuck you senseless."

Next Part ┃ M.list

#ateez #ateez smut #ateez yunho #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #jeong yunho smut #jeong yunho x reader #jeong yunho #yunho x reader #yunho smut #smut

[morwap]

𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐃𝐎𝐕𝐄, 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐋 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑

remus lupin x fem!reader

angst/fluff??

nav | r.l m.list |

modern au!, film director!remus, swearing, long distance, the title is from a lyric i thought was in a jeff buckley song,

───────✧ 𓆩♡𓆪 ✧───────

now you stared at your phone, the pit in your stomach grew and grew. did he even want you to see it? maybe you’re just fucking delusional and it’s not even about you.

you can remember everything, like it was glued into your brain, every single shot and scene deliberately thought out by only someone that knew you. a part of your life told on screen by someone else’s perspective, but it was also a part of his life.

did you expect it? no, not at all. all you did was want to watch a movie, which made you think it was fate once you realized what was going on.

you knew it was wrong to get on your phone during a movie, knowing you were probably being written about on r/assholes, but you had to know.

typing the title of the movie with a few typos and then searching for directors, writers and producers. you saw it, the name you knew that would show but you just needed to know it was for real.

written - directed - produced by Remus Lupin

you shut your phone off instantly.

the characters names were different of course, but the posters in the female leads room were yours, the way she dressed was yours, the way she did her hair was yours, the way she did her skincare was yours, even the text messaging scenes were how you typed. It was you.

you watched as the characters texted some even being the exact messages, getting close so fast, sharing secrets and telling each other everything.

it would switch from each point of view.

arguments told from each perspective, you could tell he tried to get your feelings portrayed correctly and all you could do was smile.

the distance and longing told between the two characters, told you how he felt. once the characters had met face to face, it was an exact play by play of how it went. the nervousness that went through the characters went through you too.

once you heard the song you knew what scene was coming. the female lead walked around his bedroom, looking at all his things and teasing him as his vinyl started to spin and music started to flow. soon enough their lips were locked.

you were surprised when it didn’t end when the two characters slowly lost contact, it showed how badly they wanted to text but since it had been long they didn’t know if it was appropriate.

the characters went on in life, then by fate went back to each other. what stuck with you was the male lead saying “it only takes one phone call”. Is that what he wanted? you left the theater quickly once the credits ended.

now your finger hovered over contacts, you scratch your head before finding his number. you sighed and closed your eyes then quickly pressed call.

there was barely a ring before you heard his voice.

“y/n”

#remus lupin x you #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin #marauder era #marauders #marauders x reader #the marauders #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin angst #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin my love #film director!remus lupin #fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fandom

[aphroditesmoon]

Could you write Xavier X FemReader in which the reader is Wednesday’s family member (sister, cousin, etc) and her and Xavier we starting to get close then all of a sudden her starts acting cold/rude so she thinks she did something wrong and he hates her when in reality Xavier has started being mean is because he’s been in love with her since he saw her but she’s been getting really close with Tyler so she confronts him and he does an angry love confession????

it's you I think of

xavier thorpe x reader

summary: xavier tries to win the heart of the other addams sister, but she just doesn't seem to get the message.

warnings: bit angst but mostly fluff

A/N: Thanks for requesting anon! hope you like this!

°°°

"So, is your name based on weekdays too or?" The long haired boy started as he stands beside you, observing your position as you shoot your arrow and misses again.

You sigh and he steps closer with your back to his chest as he guides your hand with the arrow. "Here, like this."

You feel your heart speeds up but says nothing as you watch him take the lead and hits the arrow straight to the aim.

He slowly steps aside and smiles at you. You give a small smile and gives him your name.

He fakes gasp, "Oh she speaks?" When you roll your eyes and drop your smile he immediately makes it clear he was just joking.

"I know, I'm not easily offended, there's been worse things said to me." You state, picking up another arrow to practice.

"So, do I have to assume you are as terrifying as your sister?" He asks with a teasing grin.

"Oh no, I'm afraid she has already claimed the title of homicidal psychopath in our family, truly the pride and joy of the Addams name. As for me, You'll learn soon enough." You explain, this time your arrow hits straight to the aim, You lower your bow in pride.

"So you mean to say we might end up close enough for me to learn about you myself?"

he had too many questions.

You shook your head and thank him for his lessons before walking away to your dorm room.

°°°

Despite being roommates with Yoko, she has not made a single effort to befriend you, as glad as you are for the peace, you could tell it's because of the growing closeness between you and Xavier, the girls were ignoring you in solidarity to Bianca.

You were thankful for that.

It wasn't that you asked Xavier to befriend you, but he was persistent in knowing you, and he seems to respect your boundaries enough to not push you or cross the line, so you accepted his friendship, it was nice to share the quietness with someone else sometimes.

He has even let you sit in the corner of his shed to watch him paint and sketch.

That was probably your favourite activity these days, the comfortable silence and watching him fully concentrate on his artworks.

Today was one of the days you'd get to watch him work, he had sat beside someone else during their classes together that afternoon, but you assumed their routine still remained.

Walking towards the shed, you notice chains around the handles of the door. It was definitely locked as you try to pull it off.

This was confusing, if he wasn't coming today then why wouldn't he tell you?

Bumping into Bianca as you're walking back to your dorm, you gave it a chance and asked her if she knew where Xavier was.

Her scoff and smile was mocking. "Aw, did he finally decide drop your deadweight of an ass?"

You raise your eyebrows at her challenged.

"That's weird, last time I checked, it was you that got dumped." Indulging in her baffled expression, You walk past her to continue looking for your friend.

He wasn't in the library or any of the classes. The last place there was to check was his room, a place you don't think you're allowed to.

°°°

The next day was busy as everyone prepared for the rave'n dance. You weren't much of a partier, but you had hoped to ask a certain someone, so you made an effort to search for a decent enough dress.

You snatched the first dress that caught your attention, not liking the whole experience you had force yourself to go through. It was emerald coloured dress, giving in to the assigned flora and fauna theme this year.

Stepping into the local coffee shop, you were met with Tyler as he prepared you your usual.

"You look burnt out, went hiking or something?" He questions.

You chuckled. "Dress shopping." He raises his eyebrows and grin.

"Oh you're going to Rave'n then? Didn't seem like the type that would, got a date?"

Your smile slowly drops as you shook your head.

He nods understanding. "Well, I mean, if you're looking for one, I'm always free this Saturday." He winks and you bite your cheeks.

His attention snaps to the door as the bell rings.

and a customer enter. You turn around and widen your eyes in suprise to see Xavier.

His too as he takes your appearance in.

He walks closer, turning to look at Tyler, then back at you.

Tyler uncomfortably backs away from leaning at the counter to you and clears his throat.

"Uh, want a coffee?" He asks Xavier slowly.

He nods carefully, before taking a seat next to you, watching Tyler move to the espresso machine.

"Didn't know you two are friends." He starts.

You let out an annoyed laugh and glares at him.

"Really?" He blinks, not understanding what you mean.

"You don't answer my texts, didn't tell me you weren't going to be at the shed, and now you're talking to me like you haven't been ignoring me?" You snapped.

"Wha- I've been busy, I forgot-"

"You've been busy, you forgot, which one is it?" You Interrogate.

"Both! Look, I'm sorry alright, I should've let you know, I forgot." He explains as Tyler brings you both your coffee.

Xavier's eyes wanders to the paperbag in your hand. "Is that a dress? You're going to the rave'n?" He asks suspiciously.

"Why shouldn't I?" You ask defensively.

"I didn't say you shouldn't, I just- I mean, do you have a date?"

You instinctively nodded. "I'm... going with Tyler! Right, Tyler?" You immediately turn to him, silently begging him to agree.

Tyler, playing along, nods and confirms.

Xavier's expression changed, and the guilt in his eyes turns blank as he processes what you said.

"Oh." Disappointment laced his voice for some reason. He snatch his coffee and stand to leave. "I'll uh, see you later then." He says briefly before leaving.

you feel the pit of your stomach churn as you thank Tyler.

°°°

The Rave'n dance was unspeakably boring. You'd rather be in your room and read with Chopin playing in the background.

Instead you're stuck here awkwardly eating your cake with Tyler by your side.

You spot Xavier by Bianca's side as they walk in together, his eyes meet yours and the betrayal you feel was deep. He had gone back to her.

You excuse yourself to the bathroom, feeling Xavier's gaze burning through your back as you walk away.

You pull back tears and touched up your lipstick after repeating the breathing exercise Kinbott has taught you.

Feeling less upset and more out together aftet successfully preventing a breakdown, you walk out towards your date.

Only to find him on the dancefloor with your sister, Wednesday.

Of course, he had only asked you to get close to her. No one ever wanted you for you.

You were glad you didn't really like him and disappointedlu went to grab a drink. You scan the room and notice Bianca dancing with Yoko, It was then that you notice Xavier wasn't anywhere to be seen. You frown and walked out while no one notice. The idea of knocking on his door was halted as you remember you weren't allowed there, If you were caught, it wasn't the punishment you were scared of but rather the embarrassment.

There was only one option left.

°°°

Climbing through windows and walls, you pull out a small screwdriver, unlocking the window next to his bedside, before pushing it open and jumping in.

As your feet lands on his bed, you hear him yelp and swear loudly. There he was in all his glory, in front of the bathroom door.

"[name]?!, What the fuck? Did you seriously just climbed through my window-"

"You weren't at the shed today, and you stopped sitting next to me in class. In fact if I'm remembering it right, you didn't even want me in the shed with you last week too." He turns quiet, eyes not meeting yours.

"You're avoiding me, why?" You ask, making him scoff and turn away from you as he walks towards Rowan's old bed.

You walk to him, pulling him by his hands to look at you.

"Did I do something? Have I offend you?" You go straight to the point.

He frowns. "Offend me? God are you clueless or something."

Saying that you were confused would be an understatement.

"Let's say that I am, spell it out for me then."

He shook his head and pushed your hand away. "I'm not- I'm not offended, okay? Just leave, okay? Go back to your date, and not by the windo-"

"I'm not leaving until you tell me what's wrong." You insist and he sighs.

you two stood like that for a few seconds, refusing to grant eachother's request.

You broke the silence first, unable to take it anymore.

"Xavier, you are my first friend ever, besides my old pet tarantula spider that was accidental killed in our washing machine." He makes a face of disgust.

"I- What I mean is, If I had done anything to hurt you, it was probably accidental, I am not the best when it comes to making friends, let alone, keeping then." You notice his body relaxing as his gaze softens.

"I would understand if you no longer want to associate with me, but I would be very grateful if you could tell me why." You pleaded, heart breaking.

You didn't think you could ever feel this upset.

People had always assumed you were as heartless as your sister, given your awkward and introverted personality.

But the truth was you used your antisocial personality as a wall againts human interaction because you were sensitive. Your heart was the opposite of Wednesday's.

Xavier sighs and closes his eyes briefly before looking at you firmly.

"You didn't offend me, well- not really, it's just-"

"Its- I avoided you, because I thought you didn't feel the same way I did." His confession did not clear anything up for you.

You scrunch your face confused.

"Feel? Feel what?"

His lips became a thin line as he rolls his eyes.

"[name], I like you"

"I like you too, I just told you that-

"No, I-" He sighs loudly again.

"I like you, more than a friend, should. And I thought I've been dropping multiple hints since we met but it seems you've gotten none of them, I thought you just weren't interested in me like that, or else you would've seen them, wouldn't you?"

Your eyes widen as understanding fills you.

The brief silence scared him as he tells you to forget about it and leave.

"Wha- No, no Xavier, I do like you." You immediately tells him before you could stop yourself.

He freezes and his yes scan you for any lies or deceit.

"Right, and you're definitely not saying this because I'm your only friend and you feel bad."

You shook your head but he still looks unconvinced.

"You went out with Tyler. Fucking Tyler. How does anything you do backs up what you're saying?" Tyler's name sounds like a curse coming from his tongue, And you have to admit, it makes you like him more.

"It does make sense what you're saying, but if Im only saying this because I'm lonely, would I do this?" You challenge him.

"Do what?" He asks, eyebrows furrowed.

You answer him by pulling him down by his vest and meeting your lips with his.

Automatically he reciprocates it and his arms move to wrap around your waist.

You smile againts his mouth and you feel him copy it.

Breaking the kiss to catch a breath, he grins at you, all his sulking seemingly gone.

"So just to be clear, you're not doing this because you feel bad or anything right? I don't know, maybe you should convince me again, just to be sure."

Your face breaks into a smile as you grant his wish.

#xavier thorpe fanfic #xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe x you #xavier thorpe wednesday #wednesday netflix

[bad268]

I remember you said you’d be so down if clingy Kimi became a series so here’s another “clingy” kimi request.

Kimi antonelli w a short reader. (She’s not short she’s just average size but he’s not convinced).

He’s picking her up any chance he gets to, he’s kissing her forehead and treating her like a stuffed animal. His behavior is prominent during f2 when Kimi gets a DNF coz something went wrong w the car. When he gets to the garage, he rushes to look for reader and when he finds her he’s picking her up and making a beeline to drivers room for a cuddle and reassurance.

"Average" (Andrea Kimi Antonelli X Short-ish! Reader)

Clingy Antonelli Universe (can be read as a stand-alone)

Fandom: RPF/F2/F3

Requested: Clearly (I didn't make being short a plot, but it's there lol)

Warnings: None

POV: Second Person (You/your)

W.C. 1053

Summary: Kimi needed some reassurance after that race (and you're never leaving his side).

Join my 1K Celly

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Pinterest)

Immediately after the race, it was like you could not get a second to yourself. It was normal to you, but for some reason, this race brought out a whole different level of cling out of Kimi. 

This DNF was not something he needed when he was in the title fight. However, it was only the sprint race! He would be starting on the front row for the feature race. Still, it was not fun to have to retire when your breaks start smoking in any situation.

You knew as soon as you saw that Kimi’s car was smoking that you were not going to have any personal space for the foreseeable future. It was not something that happened a lot, but when it did, you had no objections. 

He made his way out of the car after parking up in the garage, so the mechanics could get started on it and hopefully, fix the brakes before the feature race. Immediately after his helmet and balaclava were off, he was searching for you. You were not standing in your normal spot in the back of the garage, so he had to do a little bit of searching.

It did not take too long as he found you standing with Toto and Susie at the pit wall. He walked straight up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he listened to a couple of his team talk about the plan for tomorrow. Eventually, you could feel him getting restless just standing there, listening to all of the things that went wrong and what he would need to be aware of tomorrow. You subtly gave a look to Antoine, and he immediately caught on, letting you two go. That’s when Kimi turned his attention to Toto and Susie. 

“I’ll do better tomorrow, I swear,” Kimi sighed as he looked at them and fidgeted with his (and your) hands. 

“That’s not necessary, Kimi,” Toto said immediately, “It’s not your fault. It’ll be fixed for tomorrow, and we’ll get to see your real potential then.”

“Thank you,” He smiled as he turned to you. “I think now’s a good time to head out, right?”

You nodded, knowing what was next. He placed his arms on the back of your thighs, and he prompted you to jump into his arms. The team was used to it at this point, having been witnesses to this earlier in the season, but you had long since cared about their thoughts of it. You would do anything to make Kimi feel better, and if being as close to you as physically possible made that happen, you would not stand in his way.

He carried you back to his driver’s room. It was a ritual at this point. He would retire the car, pick you up, and then you two would hide away in his driver’s room and watch a show or movie until the race was over. 

He set you down on the couch before going off to take a shower and change while you took out your laptop. It was always the same movie that cheered him up, so you queued it up while you moved to grab a water and snack.

Of course, Kimi. being the taller mf he is, put all of your favorite snacks on the top shelf. And sure, you could get a chair and grab them yourself, but you heard the shower turn off. It would take longer to find a chair, grab the food, get down, and put the chair away than it would to just wait for Kimi to grab them for you.

It did not take long for him to come out of the bathroom, wearing a pair of sweatpants and a white t-shirt. He was also holding a Prema hoodie, but you knew he would give it to you. You just stood by the shelves of snacks, pouting and waiting for Kimi to notice you. He set the hoodie on the couch before he saw where you were standing.

“Are you too short to reach?” He chuckled lightly as he slowly walked over to you, easily grabbing the snacks from over your head.

“I’m not short,” You groaned as you wrapped your arms around his waist as he grabbed the snacks. “I’m average. You’re just tall.”

“Pff, ‘average’,” he tsked as he shook his head, “Whatever helps you get by.” He then turned to wrapping one arm under your arms to lift you up and carry you to the couch. He set you down, helping put the hoodie over your head. Then, he went to grab all of the snacks to put them on the coffee table. Kimi laid down behind you and pulled you down to lay on his chest. “Is this okay?”

“If it makes you feel better, it’s perfect,” You whispered as you placed a small kiss on his jaw before resting your head on his chest and carding your fingers through his hair. “You know tomorrow will be better right?”

“Yeah,” He sighed as he fidgeted with the hem of your (his) hoodie. “It just sucks when the head of your future team is watching you retire the car and there is nothing you can do about it.”

“You may not be able to do anything about it now, but what you told the team will help them solve the problem for the feature. You’re on the front row tomorrow, and everyone knows that P2 has the best line into turn 1. It’s better the car retired for the sprint race.”

“You’re right, when are you not?” He laughed as he planted a kiss on your forehead before leaning forward to press play on the movie. “Seems like you always know what to say in these kinds of things.”

“I just know you, and what makes you feel better,” You chuckled with him. “Plus, deep down, you know that it wasn’t your fault. And you know that tomorrow will be better. I’ll be there for your prerace ritual, so no bad luck for the feature race.”

“You’re not leaving my side ever again,” He teased as he held you tighter against his body. “At least, during a race weekend. I’ll carry you around if I have to.”

“You already do, so it wouldn’t be any different.”

~~~~~

© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

#andrea kimi antonelli x reader #andrea kimi antonelli #kimi antonelli x reader #kimi antonelli #kimi x reader #f2 #f2 x reader #f2 x you #f2 imagine #f2 fanfic #f1 #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #fomula 1 #formula 2 #formula 2 imagine #formula 1 #formula 2 x reader #prema team #prema racing #mercedes amg petronas #bad268 #ship268 #thing268

[cutielando]

conflict of interest ~ rafe cameron

my masterlist

Everyone on the island knew you were the Kook Princess. That title had long been taken from Sarah, specifically ever since you started dating Rafe Cameron, the renowned Kook Prince.

Life with Rafe was everything you had ever imagined it to be and so much more. 

He took care of you, made sure you never lacked anything, spoiled you rotten with gifts, spa days, holidays, boat days, movie nights, adventures, everything you could ever think of.

You two loved each other more than anything, your shared love proving to be a force to be reckoned with.

However, not everybody believed that what you and Rafe had was unbreakable. Amongst that crowd was also Topper, Rafe's best friend.

Topper knew how Rafe was, they had known each other ever since they were little kids. He knew how possessive and protective Rafe could get over things, especially over you.

But he couldn't help it.

He couldn't help the way your presence made him feel, the way butterflies would just go wild inside of his stomach every time he would hear your laugh or see your smile, he would just go numb every time he would smell your perfume, the sweet flowery scent he had come to obsess over.

Breaking up with Sarah meant he got to see other people, explore the island a little more. And the lucky bee had been you.

You didn't like Topper. Not in the slightest. You had always found him a little weird and too much of a soft puppy dog who couldn't think for himself.

Your heart and everything belonged to Rafe and only to Rafe. 

Of course, the both of you had seen the way Topper would stare at you at parties or when you would hang out with the other Kooks at someone's house. The way he would be way too eager to help you with anything just so he could get some time alone with you.

Rafe had been furious at first, of course. He couldn't even fathom the possibility of someone stealing you away from him. That was just not an option. He loved you way too much to let himself lose you.

Especially to someone like Topper.

Which is why the current situation you had found yourself in was not favorable for anybody.

Rafe had only left you alone for maybe 2 minutes while he went to the kitchen to get a refill for the both of you. You had been left talking to a good friend of yours when Topper suddenly appeared in front of you, drinking out of a red cup and swaying from side to side.

"Heyyyyy, Y/N" he was slurring so badly that you could barely understand what he was saying.

"Hi, Top" you smiled at him and redirected your attention back to the conversation you had been having with your friend.

That didn't seem to satisfy his need for conversation, because the next thing you know he was pulling your arm so he could get you to face him.

"Can we talk? I've got somethin I've been meanin to tell ya" he said, his grip not letting up.

You looked around, your eyes searching for Rafe. You knew Topper was harmless, but you were very uncomfortable with the way he was touching you and you knew Rafe would cause a scene if he saw it.

"Topper, I really don't think it's a good idea right now" you said, plastering a convincing fake smile on your face while subtly trying to get him to let go of your arm.

Your attempt proved unsuccessful.

"Come on, don't be a bitch. Rafe doesn't even have to know about this" Topper continued to insist, downing the remaining alcohol from his cup before grabbing your other arm. "I've been meaning to confess something to you, way before you and Rafe got together, I just didn't have the courage to do it. I think you need to know how I feel" his eyes were staring at you so hopeful, like a puppy in the rain.

It made you feel a little bad, but once you saw Rafe over Topper's shoulder marching through the crowd, his face contorted in anger, you knew a fight was most probably about to go down.

"You better watch what you're going to say very carefully" Rafe threatened from behind Topper, his eyes trained on the grip the blonde had on you.

You could see Topper's demeanor change, even drunk knowing that he shouldn't have even thought about messing with Rafe's girlfriend.

"Yo man, I was just playing a little, you know how I get at parties and shit" Topper finally let go of your arms before turning around to face your boyfriend, trying to talk himself out of the shitty situation he had found himself in.

"No, no, no. I'm curious now. What was the important thing that you wanted to tell my girlfriend while I wasn't here?" Rafe crossed his arms, his stance all that more threatening.

By this moment, you had backed down from the two with your friend, watching their interaction closely. You knew Rafe was about to lose his shit any moment, and you also knew better than to get yourself involved while he was this tense.

"I was just trying to make conversation and keep her company while you were away. You know how many creeps are at these parties" Topper slurred, sniffing and searching Rafe's eyes for any indication as to what he was thinking.

"Topper, I'm going to give you one last chance to tell me what you were doing with my girlfriend before I beat your ass so hard you won't feel your body" Rafe's voice had now turned downright dangerous, which you surprisingly found hot.

"I wasn't trying to do anything, man, she's yours and I would never-" Topper couldn't finish his sentence before Rafe punched him in the face, making Topper drop down on the floor in front of you.

Rafe kneeled down over his body and started punching him repeatedly, each time repeating "Stay the fuck away from my girlfriend" until he had to be physically pulled away from him.

One look in your direction and you knew your night had come to an end. You took his hand and let him lead you to his truck, not minding the blood that had transferred to your hand.

"Are you okay?" he questioned once you were both in the safe space of his car, his breathing now back to normal.

You nodded, looking worriedly at his bloody knuckles.

"I should be asking you that" you mumbled as you took his right hand in yours, inspecting the bruises already starting to form.

He shrugged, seemingly not in any pain which was a relief to you. "I'm fine, Topper has it worse than me. I'm just glad nothing happened and I came in time"

You leaned over the console and kissed his cheek, showing him that you weren't mad at him for getting into yet another fight.

"My knight in shinning armor. What would I do without you?" you joked, but there was truth behind your words. You really didn't know what you would do without him.

"I love you" he kissed your palm, intertwining your fingers with his.

"I love you too, my big bad boy"

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[deanbrainrotwritings]

— WILD FLOWER

SUMMARY : dean gets hit by a spell when fighting a witch and assumes it was harmless or ineffective. he was wrong, but at least he wasn’t dead. he’s a woman now. 

PAIRING : fem!dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : sam winchester

WARNINGS/TAGS : nsfw(18+), smut, fingering, oral sex, fem!dean (idk, that’s not a warning), misgendering?

WORD COUNT : 5.5k

A/N : title from RM’s song. this was new but very interesting, and I don’t regret it. I imagined dean as a combination of margot robbie and elizabeth olsen?? yeah, idk lol, yall can picture whoever you want. (I hate my 18 year old writing, but here it is) XXX

Dean grunted as he let himself fall into the backseat of the Impala. Sam and Y/N looked at each other and Y/N sighed, shaking her head as she debated walking into the backseat with Dean or riding shotgun. 

“Dean, keys,” Sam reached his hand inside the car and Dean whined quietly, but started to search his jeans for the keys. Y/N watched Dean struggle with finding the keys, a loving smile growing on her face, and he held them out for Sam to take at last. “Sit with him, make sure he doesn’t die or something,” Sam joked to Y/N.

“Fuck you, man,” Dean grunted, moving slightly as Y/N slipped in the backseat with him snickering at him. Dean snuggled into Y/N, mumbling softly against her thigh as she played with his hair.

“You feeling okay, D?” 

He hummed softly and nodded. “‘M just sleepy.” 

She wanted to scold him for jumping in front of her when the witch cast her spell. He knew that she couldn’t be hurt, she had no idea why he would do that. Maybe it was just a habit, but it’s been a long time since he’d treated her like that, as if she were fragile and could easily die. 

She was worried, but he eventually fell asleep with his face pressed into her stomach, curled up on his side. He looked so adorable when he slept, a little smile tugged at her lips and she took the blanket they kept in the backseat and placed it over his body. 

“Think he’s gonna be okay?” Sam asked quietly as he drove, glancing at Y/N through the rearview mirror. He also looked concerned, his eyes wide and puppy-like, his teeth chewing at the inside of his cheek.

“S’long as I’m alive, he’ll always be okay,” she promised, caressing Dean’s cheek with her thumb. Sam let out a shaky breath, relaxing in his seat while his hands flexed on the steering wheel.

“Thanks, Y/N,” Sam murmured, focusing on the road. Y/N looked away from Dean and gazed at Sam with a little smile, her eyes soft. “I’m glad you’re always here and have our backs. I know it was your choice to come with us all those years ago, but.. you’ve stayed with Dean and me—even after everything. I know anyone else woulda run for the hills, but you actually love my brother in ways I’ve never seen anyone be loved. He deserves you and you deserve him, you two make each other so happy…” 

She blinked at Sam, confused by his sudden speech, she figured he must have been anxious at Dean’s current state. Still, his words had impact. It was no secret she was head over heels for Dean and it was no secret he was just as in love with her. It made her stomach clench delightfully, her face heating up as she imagined how easily everyone else can see the love they have for each other. 

She looked down at Dean, smiling wider at his peaceful face before quietly saying, “you don’t need to thank me, Sam.” 

“No, I know… I just… I’m glad you’re in our lives,” he told her bashfully, smiling at her through the rearview mirror. She looked up and smiled back at him, letting out a small laugh that made him relax immediately.

“I’m glad you’re both in my life too,” she said quietly. A peaceful silence descended within the Impala, the occasional little rock hitting the metal frame while Sam drove as smoothly as he could back to the motel they were staying at. 

Thankfully, the sun wouldn’t start rising for a few hours which meant they could catch a little sleep on their last night at the motel before heading off to the Bunker. More importantly, Dean would get some extra sleep—and Y/N was thrilled that he would be able to sleep fully until morning.

Dean whined and nuzzled into Y/N’ stomach when she tried moving him out of the Impala so he could sleep in a bed. He slapped her hand away and mumbled some nonsense into her tummy until Sam returned to check on them and roughly slapped his brother’s shoulder.

“Ow,” Dean flinched, slowly getting up to rub his shoulder with a pout while Y/N and Sam laughed at how childish he sounded. “You’re both mean…” he muttered, pecking Y/N’s lips just because he could before sleepily stumbling out of the Impala, stretching and rubbing his eyes. Y/N took the opportunity to gently smack his ass as his jacket and shirt rode up his body. 

He smirked at her, pulling her into his arms to kiss her which made Sam groan in disgust, mostly playful. She giggled into the kiss, clutching Dean’s shirt as he held her face in his warm palms.

“Alright then,” Sam cleared his throat. When Dean held Y/N in place, his tongue lazily slipping past her lips as he tilted his head for a better angle, Sam scratched the back of his neck and rolled his eyes. “I’m gonna shower,” he said quickly, and made his escape. Dean chuckled, finally pulling away from his girlfriend.

“Will you make me sleep on the couch if I don’t wanna shower?” He gave her his best puppy-dog eyes, it made her smile adoringly at him. Dean could surprisingly pull that look off quite well and she had to resist rolling her eyes—mostly at herself for melting as soon as he looked at her that way. 

“Just sleep in clean clothes and brush your teeth,” she murmured, kissing him softly. He hummed quietly, nodding his head, accepting her proposition. 

“What if I sleep naked?” He wondered with a smirk, staring down at her. He bit his lip, raising his brows as he held her close to him. She laughed and rested her head on his chest, her ear pressed over his heart, listening to the cadence of his relaxing heartbeat.

“I would love that, but unfortunately, we share a room with your brother…” She moved away from him to close the door. He groaned in annoyance, holding her pinky with his. “I know,” she said dramatically, tugging him to the motel room, fully intertwining their fingers, “if only you could sleep naked next to me at all hours, every night.” 

He chuckled softly at the thought, spinning her around to face him with his arms around her waist. She gasped dramatically as he opened the door, but before he could kiss her, she put her finger to his lips, “better yet, what if you were naked at all hours, every day too?” He stumbled in with a laugh, kicking the door closed, and pressing her against the wall.

“Is that what you picture if we have our own home?” He murmured, kissing her passionately and sloppily dragging his lips down her neck. “Me, walking around naked so I can fuck you whenever I want?” He grabbed the back of her thighs and lifted her up so she could wrap her legs around him. 

“Dean…” she moaned, “we can’t…” 

He rutted against her slowly, her hands twisting in his shirts, as his warm breath fanned over her neck. He was already hard, it was driving her crazy to feel him against her clothed core, wetness pooling between her legs.

“Fuck,” he grunted, pressing his forehead against her shoulder, “I know.” He let her down gently and kissed her forehead. “Sorry,” he whispered, kissing her forehead again before he pulled away and started to strip.

“Don’t apologise for that,” she chuckled, stripping off her dirty clothes and putting on a clean pair of panties as he stood there, naked.

“I was apologising to your panties, mostly, and your pussy,” he bit his lip and nodded at her playfully, “because I bet they’re soaked, just ruined, and that you were expecting my dick inside you.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her and she chuckled, stealing a shirt from his duffel bag and grabbing some new boxers for him.

“I…” she laughed, shoving his boxers against his chest, “stop distracting me.” She walked past him as she put his shirt on and laughed when he pulled her into him again. His warm hands moved up her sides, lifting the shirt she wore as he pressed himself against her, his cock squeezed between their bodies. “I’m serious,” she chuckled, looking over at the bathroom door where the water was still running as Sam showered.

He sighed and let her go, dramatically putting his boxers on and standing there with his hands on his hips. “Better?” He asked, rolling his eyes playfully when she peeked at him from over her shoulder and then smiled at him.

“Not really, but I asked you to, so, I guess.” She smiled at him and pulled him closer to her. He moved with her smoothly, holding her close and plopping down on the bed with her in his lap. “Sammy's gonna come out soon,” she warned as he kissed her again and kneaded her ass, his hands warm and rough. 

“I know,” he whined, falling back on the bed, closing his eyes, his thumbs rubbing circles on her hip bones. “Don’t get mad, I don’t wanna brush my teeth, I’m still a little tired from the spell.” Her eyes softened and she leaned over him, kissing his hairline, dropping another kiss on his forehead.

“I’m never going to get mad at you, you know that, Dean.” She kissed his nose and then his lips before climbing off him and laying down with her head in the pillow. He turned to look at her tiredly, but managed to smile at her happily.

“I know, I just like being dramatic.” Instead of claiming his spot closest to the door, he settled between her legs, nudging them apart with his knees. 

“I love you so much, Dean,” she murmured, wrapping her arms around his neck, she brought him down to rest his head on her chest. He quickly relaxed, a soft sigh warming up her chest as he nuzzled between her breasts as comfortably as he could. 

“I love you, Y/N, so much,” he mumbled shyly against her chest. His face heated up, but he hoped it made her smile. Her fingers began combing through his hair, and matched with her steady heartbeat and her warmth, they lulled him until he fell back into unconsciousness again. 

When he woke up, it was already sunny outside. He knew Sam must have gone out for a run, and after that, to pick up some coffee and tea for Y/N. He sneaked his hand under his girlfriend’s shirt with his eyes closed. Dean felt her stir when his fingers gently brushed against her nipple, a shudder rippling through her that made him smirk.

He lowered his hand and tugged at her panties, hoping to rouse her. It made her moan softly in protest. When he went to kiss her, a curtain of honey-coloured locks scared the shit out of him and he nearly screamed at the top of his lungs, but settled for a quick, “oh, shit!” 

He stumbled off of Y/N and his wiggling on the bed woke her.

“Dean?” She rubbed her eyes and blinked at the naked woman on the bed who was looking down at herself in shock. It sobered Y/N and she scrambled far away from the unfamiliar woman. “Dean?! Is this some kind of joke?” Y/N got out of bed, her eyes trailing up and down the woman’s body.

“Y/N, it’s me! It’s Dean!” In his attempts to get up, his boxers fell from his slimmer, curvier body, and Y/N froze, staring at him in the eyes. Green eyes. Dean pulled the boxers up and held them at his waist. 

“What?” She asked quietly.

“It’s me. It’s Dean. I’m Dean,” he said more calmly, making his way to her on the bed, walking on his knees. “Im kinda freaking out, babe,” he admitted quietly. Y/N’s eyes flickered down to Dean’s breasts again and then Y/N started to laugh. “What? What’s so funny? Sweetheart, we need to find out what happened! What the fuck is going on?” He didn’t care that she was laughing, he still moved in for a hug which she easily gave to him, her arms wrapping around his, her, neck.

“I’m sorry, D,” she murmured, burying her face in his neck and smelling the same scent that always came from Dean. “I think it was the witch, honestly,” she mumbled, pulling away slightly to look him in the eyes, his green eyes and cute freckles that she always loved. 

“But she’s dead…” Dean whispered, sitting down, his long hair covering her chest. “S-shouldn’t I…? Then why is the spell still working?” He wondered exasperatedly, running his hand down his face. “I need some clothes. And-and we need to get to the Bunker, read up on this shit…” he started to ramble as he got off the bed, letting his boxers fall.

“We can call Rowena,” Y/N suggested, but Dean was too busy rifling through his duffle bag. “D, slow down, I’ll let you borrow some of my clothes.” She got off the bed and stopped Dean, who was still pretty tall. He instinctively leaned down to kiss her, his fingers tangling in her soft hair. She kissed him back, to his surprise, as if he were the same, as if it didn’t matter to her that he was a woman now. At least for however long he had to be one before they turned him back.

“I wanna wear that dress that drives me crazy when you wear it,” he murmured playfully against her lips. She laughed at Dean, pulling away completely to dig through her duffle bag for a pair of her underwear and a bra. “Babe, your boobs are bigger than mine,” he pouted, experimentally holding his breasts in his hand and rolling his nipples between his fingers. He gasped softly and Y/N’s face heated up as she watched him touch himself. “Shit, am I pissing myself?” He stopped touching himself to look between his legs and then relaxed when he realised what was happening. “Oh,” he said with wonder.

“Stop that,” Y/N chuckled, placing the bra back into her bag while Dean pulled Y/N’s underwear on. She then took out the dress Dean was talking about, wondering if he was serious or not. “Are you sure?” She asked, holding it up for him to inspect it—even though he’d seen it millions of times. He rubbed his thighs together and then looked up at her, his face flushed.

“Uh, yeah,” he said, getting up and taking it from her, letting him help putting it on. She bit her lip, realising that he was turned on right now. “Man, why am I so wet?” He whined as Y/N fixed the straps of the thin and soft dress. 

“I don’t know,” she murmured, fixing the dress on Dean’s body and grabbing the white, silky strap of cloth that went around the waist to make a neat bow at his waist. “Why do you think you’re wet?” She asked, tilting her head.

“Uh,” Dean looked down at himself, bit his lip as he blushed and then looked at her. “Probably because you still turn me on and I’m wearing your panties,” he told her, licking his lips, he stepped forward, watching her stand up straight as he came closer. “I mean, I know wearing panties always feels good to me, but it’s always different when I know they’re yours,” he confessed, looking down as he sneaked his hand under her shirt and into her panties. Both their breaths started to pick up and he moaned softly, finding her as soaked as he felt. 

Just then, the doorknob started to rattle and Dean grunted in annoyance. He moved his hand out from between her legs and licked his fingers clean of her slick before kissing her forehead and heading to the bathroom. Sam froze as he watched a woman—Dean—wad to the bathroom while Y/N stood there, flushed, before facing Sam.

“What’s going on?” Sam asked, closing the door behind him to place the cup holder on the table. 

“Uh, the witch made Dean a woman,” Y/N said bluntly, putting on some jeans to look a little more decent. 

“The.. What?” Sam blinked at Y/N, then seemed to have let the information sink as he sat down, abandoning the coffee cup he was drinking from when he came in. “Are you sure?” He asked, even though he knew Y/N knew what she was doing. She nodded and took the cup that had the tea string hanging out of the cup. “I’ll call Rowena as we make our way to the Bunker, it’s just a few hours away…” Sam stretched a little and froze when Dean came out of the bathroom, using a towel to clean his face.

“Hey, Sammy,” Dean grumbled, hating the way Sam looked at him in shock. Dean took the last coffee on the cup holder and started to drink from it. “I know, I’m so hot like this, too,” he smirked up at his baby brother. Sam rolled his eyes, needing nothing more to know that it was, in fact, Dean as a woman. 

Y/N chuckled and made her way to the bathroom to get ready, letting Sam and Dean talk about whatever they needed to before stepping out. She got her stuff ready, found Sam perplexed, prepared, and Dean amused and curious, before they all headed out to the car to get to the Bunker.

Dean pouted as Rowena started to scan his body using a spell, Y/N stifled a laugh, which made Dean smile. As soon as Sam got in the Impala, he started to call Rowena and told her to be there to help Dean out. She was obviously there, faster than either of them cared to mention.

Rowena had also checked Dean out as soon as she saw him, which Dean liked, despite his sassy remark to her objectifying stare. He plopped down on the bed of the infirmary and let Rowena do her thing, Y/N was sitting nearby as Sam anxiously chewed on his fingernails. 

“Honestly, as long as I’m not gonna die…” he trailed off, “but please tell me you can turn me back.” Rowena sighed and smiled at Dean, her eyes mischievous and naughty as she patted Dean’s head like a dog.

“You’re not going to die,” she reassured him and Dean slapped her hand away, sitting up on the bed. “And the spell will run its course in a few days, like a fever,” she explained. Dean listened as he played with the hem of the dress he wore. “Tell me, what’s it like for you being a woman? Have you two already explored your new body?” She asked mischievously. Sam cleared his throat, expressing his discomfort. Rowena rolled her eyes at him, but smirked at Dean’s blush as he crossed his arms over his chest defensively. “I’m asking because I can change you back now… Unless..” she trailed off, looking between Y/N and Dean with a knowing look, “unless you two wanna experiment…” She added casually, shrugging and looking at her nails.

“Okay! I’m leaving now,” Sam said, not wanting to hear it or to embarrass Y/N and Dean for their choice. Sam decided he was going to leave the Bunker for a while and l text Dean that he’d be back in a week. Sam nodded to himself, getting some new clothes and his duffle bag, he wanted to give them some privacy. Maybe he could read all those books he wanted to read and stay in a motel for a while. Or he could call Eileen, yeah, he was gonna do that, spend some time with her and go on a date, too. 

“I’m not judging, I’m actually encouraging it,” Rowena said smugly, packing her things. Rowena didn’t need an answer, she had Dean figured out. He was confident and proud about his sex life; he was an experimenter, willing to try anything. Dean rolled his eyes at Rowena and got out of bed to stand next to Y/N. 

“Whatever, we’ll walk you out,” Dean grumbled, taking Y/N’s hand to help her off the chair as Rowena gave both of them a knowing look. Her dark eyes shone with amusement and flirtatiousness, which made Dean roll his eyes again as he took her other bag and walked out with Y/N. 

“I always knew you two were an interesting pair,” she laughed, “I mean, how do you get Y/N to try all these things? She seems too tame for things like these…” Dean smirked to himself, knowing Rowena couldn’t see his face; if only she knew how many times a lot of the freaky stuff they did were Y/N’s idea. He looked down at his girlfriend, his eyes full of affection and desire. She was so cute when she was flustered. 

Rowena gasped dramatically, her heels clicking as she hurried to stand next to them. “Don’t tell me, this child is the one who comes up with everything… I knew you were the most sheltered, Dean.” Rowena laughed, looking between both of them, and needing nothing, but their silence to confirm her statement. “Well, I’m just shocked… but very proud.” She squeezed Y/N’s shoulder, a genuine expression of pride and mischief shining in her grey-blue eyes. 

Y/N shook her head at the witch, allowing Dean to open the Bunker door for Rowena to make her exit. “Well, thanks for coming out to help, Rowena,” Y/N told her. Dean handed Rowena her bag and Rowena grinned at them.

“You’re welcome,” she kissed Y/N’s cheek formally and patted Dean’s shoulder, “have a fantastic week, lovebirds.” Rowena continued to tease as she walked out, leaving Dean and Y/N alone in the Bunker, both amused as they shut the door. 

“I’m gonna go look for Sam,” Dean said, looking down at his body, “and then I’m gonna shower.” He leaned over to kiss Y/N’s cheek, then kissed her lips, smiling adorably at her. 

“Just… go look for your brother,” Y/N chuckled shyly, walking past Dean just as his phone lit up on the war table. “Nevermind!” She shouted, taking Dean’s phone when she saw Sam’s name light up the screen above a message he sent. Dean raised a brow and walked over to her, looking over her shoulder to read whatever notification he got. 

SAMMY : I’m heading out with Eileen. I’m spending the whole week with her. You two have fun… No details, please.

Dean chuckled too, taking the phone when Y/N handed it to him. He typed out his response with a childish snicker and a grin. Y/N’s smile grew watching Dean look practically the same even as a woman.

Dean : Oh, you have plenty of time to finally sleep with her.. Unlike you, I’d like to hear the details… or Eileen will spill to Y/N and I’ll know anyway. Heh.

Dean proudly sent the message, his attention purely on his phone. He saw Sam had immediately read it and the text bubble appeared, so he stepped forward, leaning his hips against the table, nearly forgetting he was a woman. He quickly recovered and laughed at Sam’s response.

SAMMY : She wouldn’t… Stop that!

               Goodbye, Dean

Dean could already hear the annoyance from Sam through the text and he grinned to himself, looking to where Y/N was. A soft smile graced her pretty lips and Dean found himself smiling back immediately, and reaching out for her hand.

“Let’s shower together,” he said with a smile, his thumb brushing against her knuckles when she took his hand. She nodded at him, looking at Dean the same way she always had. It flustered him. 

While he walked with her to the bathroom, he couldn’t help squeeze her hand nervously—now that he was a woman. It was comforting that nothing had changed for her, that it didn’t matter what he looked like. If anything could display how she felt about him, this was the true testament of her love for him.

As much as he wanted to just get the shower over with, he couldn’t. He had no idea how to stop himself from being so horny, it was like starting all over again from puberty. He couldn’t focus on anything, but the desire for Y/N to touch him. He was so wet, everytime his thighs were too close, he could feel his panties sticking to his pussy, the cool feeling of wetness surprising him. 

He didn’t even realise he was already in the bathroom, until he felt Y/N tugging at the ends of the little bow she made around his waist to keep the dress snug against his curves. He focused on her, but the way it just seemed so natural to her that he was a woman now, it was confusing. Still, it was also nice, hoping that her love for him was just that pure and unconditional.

“I love you,” he mumbled. He felt shy saying that, but she looked up at him with her eyebrows raised slightly, pleasant surprise written all over her face, one side of her lips turning up just a little. She leaned forward and pecked his lips, repeating the same sentiment that made him feel warm, a flush that was different from the lust he’d been feeling all day. 

Dean started to take his dress off slowly, but Y/N stripped faster than he did, focused on the task of showering. She turned the shower on and waited patiently for Dean to get used to his lady parts and the difference in size of all his body. His arms were thinner and so were his legs, he was soft, but toned, and just slightly firm on his ass, he was squishy in all the places he liked Y/N to be. When he’d embarrassedly lowered his panties, Y/N watched, amused by the patch of wetness that drenched the crotch of the cotton. 

“Jesus, Dean,” she chuckled, stepping forward and curiously tugging Dean’s panties to get a clearer look at all the wetness. Dean blushed, now understanding why Y/N became so coy when he did or said things like that. He secretly liked it though, the way she pressed her fingers into the damp cotton and hummed as if it were nice against her fingertips. “You're so dirty,” she whispered, laughing softly. 

“I’m not used to this,” was all he managed to say. Y/N released his panties, letting them pool around his ankles. Dean swallowed, waiting in anticipation for Y/N to do something, anything really, just as long as he could get off. She’d mimicked what Dean did earlier to himself, her hands experimentally cupping Dean’s breast. Dean bit his lip, feeling his nipples tighten and tingle with the prospect of being touched.

Y/N was slow and curious in the way she handled him. Her thumbs gently circled around the nipple, observing them start to pucker up. The soft pads of her thumbs brushed against the little buds of his nipples and he found himself arching his chest the same way she did when he did that to her. 

It had the same effect on her as it had on him, and one of her arms wrapped around his waist, pulling him close so her warm mouth was latched onto his nipple. He moaned, feeling her fingers on his other breast, pinching and rolling his nipples, while she tongued the other expertly.

He felt his knees weaken and he steadied himself on the wall, a wave of wetness dampening his legs more. She released his waist, sucking his nipple into her mouth, her teeth pleasantly scraping the sensitive skin of his nipples. Her hand slid down his side, smoothly tracing the curve of his waist, down to his hips.

Her thumb brushed against his hipbone and it felt so damn good, Dean moaned again, squirming and hoping Y/N would show him mercy and put her fingers where she knew he wanted her to. Instead, she playfully tugged at his nipple and let it go with a pop, her warm breath billowing over the wetness and making shivers erupt on his skin. 

Dean felt his eyes roll back, felt so horny when she wrapped her arm around his waist again and repeated every little stroke of her tongue on his other nipple. This time, her free hand moved between his legs. Dean found himself spreading his legs when her palms sailed smoothly up the inside of his thigh, curving up to cup his pussy, her palm grinding against his swollen clit and her fingers pressing into his drenched entrance. 

He gasped, his fingers tangling in her hair, trying to pull her up so she would kiss him instead. She pulled away from his chest and let Dean kiss her, a surprised sound muffling against Dean’s lips. She didn’t stop palming his swollen clit, and Dean began to undulate his hips against her hand and she smirked. Even now, she loved making him desperate. 

“I need to cum,” he gasped against her mouth. Y/N nodded, circled Dean’s weeping entrance with two fingers and moved them up to his clit. She kissed Dean’s neck, licked his sweet skin and marked him as hers where she thought would look pretty against his skin. Dean’s heavy breaths and breathy moans caused a pool of arousal between her legs again. 

Y/N licked her lips, staring at Dean, and truly took him in. She took in the gorgeous curves of his body, his tiny waist and wide hips, the perfect roundness of his perky breasts, his nipples hard and shimmering with her saliva. He looked beautiful, ravenous, in the same way he’d make her feel when he had the body of a man. 

His hair was long and straight, a lighter brown colour. He was breathtaking, with strands curtaining above his chest and falling in front of his face, long tendrils of honey that nearly covered his green eyes. He looked at her breathlessly, wondering why she was so slowly, agonisingly massaging his clit. 

He hadn’t expected to see the same tenderness in her eyes that she’d usually gaze at him with, her eyes sparkling with wonder and love. Dean whined anyway, grasping her wrist to speed up and control the movements just when she began to trace the same freckles she’d seen on Dean’s other body with her eyes. 

She didn’t say anything, just snatched Dean’s wrist with her clean hand to keep him away as she easily slipped two fingers inside him. Dean gasped, not expecting the speed at which Y/N fingered him. Her fingertips easily found his g-spot, curled so deliciously against the sensitive ridges of his wall. His mouth fell open and he moaned her name loudly, feeling a coil begin to tighten in his tummy. 

He tugged at his nipples with both hands, squeezing his breasts and fucked himself against her quick fingers. Y/N stared up at him, captivated by every one of his hedonistic manoeuvres. Desire flourished between her legs and in her stomach at the sound of Dean’s wet cunt around her fingers. 

Y/N got down on her knees, her mouth sending warm breaths over his pelvis. Dean’s eyes snapped open to gaze down at Y/N with an intense hunger, wiggling his hips and abandoning one of his breasts to spread his folds with two fingers, encouraging her to put her mouth on his clit. 

She didn’t hesitate to flick his clit teasingly and he jolted, his head bumping against the wall. He moaned again, the feeling of her tongue’s perfect strokes drew him closer to his orgasm. The smoothness of movement aided by her saliva and Dean just didn’t care about holding back when he came, completely relaxing his muscles and letting it tear through him intensely.

Dean caught his breath against the wall, her fingers slowing down and stopping before her tongue did. Y/N sat back on her legs and licked her fingers clean while Dean watched her. Leaning forward for more, she lifted Dean’s thigh and pushed his legs open to lap up his clear cum and he moaned appreciatively.

“Come on, there’s still a lot more I have to show you.” She grinned at him mischievously, allowing Dean to relax and catch his breath. She stepped into the shower and stared at him for a moment.

“God,” he whispered and rolled his eyes, “it sucks that this is just temporary.” He entered the shower with her. 

“That’s enough time,” she reassured him with a grin. Dean gasped when Y/N manhandled him under the showerhead and used her fingers to clean him up, purposely brushing against his sensitive clit.

“I am so in love with you,” Dean breathed, pressing a loving kiss to her cheek. 

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[greensagephase]

Nonviolent Communication - Part 12

Pairings: Miguel O'Hara x SpideyFemReader Summary: An unexpected temporary change. Word Count: 24,291 Warnings: A building catches fire; someone falls; mention of injury Previous Part Masterlist Music Inspo (You can find the official Spotify playlist for the fanfic here ! It includes all the music I've listened to throughout the chapters for writing, including music for the one-shots, and some songs I decided not to include originally in the chapter posts. This was due to the romantic context they have and we're not at that point yet, but I was using them more for vibes if that makes sense? The lyrics are not relevant, not yet anyway.🤭) "Spider-Man" - John Paesano "Moving Forward" - John Paesano "Blue Moon" - Billie Holiday "Nonviolent Communication" - Metro Boomin, James Blake, 21 Savage, A$AP Rocky "Another Dimension" - Pop Money

Part 12

You sleep peacefully under warm covers in your once shared bedroom. Your arms are wrapped around a pillow, the one that used to belong to Peter. You once slept in a different position but ever since his death, your sleeping position changed. You began to hug his pillow at night, pretending that it was him because his scent was on it. Those days led to years and now, hugging a pillow is the only way you can sleep, even if the pillow has long ago lost the scent of its owner. Your head rests on the pillow, like how it used to rest on Peter’s chest at night when you laid in bed and talked about anything and everything in the comfort of your small apartment.

It’s how you lay now on the same bed you’ve had for years. You’re resting, peacefully and calmly. Sleep has a strong hold on you as you dream - of Peter. You sit in your living room and watch as he browses through your bookshelf, the old one. Your eyes scan it, noticing it’s in great condition. If anything it looks like it did when Peter was alive, almost brand new. He mutters quietly to himself as he searches, his fingers tracing the books’ spines, searching for a specific title.

“Found it,” Peter says before he turns around to face you, showing you the book by holding it up.

You smile at him from the couch as you catch his playful grin before he approaches you, and takes a seat next to you.

“We haven’t read this one in a while. I think it’s time. It’s winter after all,” he says as he wraps an arm around your shoulders, gently pulling you into his warmth.

“It is winter,” you confirm as you lean into his touch, into his body. You sigh softly, taking in his scent. You close your eyes for a few seconds, relishing it. It’s been so long but you know it so well - as if it were your own scent. It brings you so much comfort and peace, it reminds you that there’s another scent that incites those same feelings now. Miguel’s.

You open your eyes as Peter begins to read. His voice is gentle and warm, and his arm is still wrapped around you. You look at him and smile before looking around the apartment. You hear Peter but your mind still registers the mixture of the old and new decorations in the apartment. There’s the old bookshelf you had but the photographs on the wall are different. It’s small things like that. You turn away and snuggle closer to Peter, having to stop yourself from almost murmuring his name tenderly in response to the feel of his body, his warmth, his scent. Peter is really here with you. You’re together. Again.

You feel Peter’s arm gently tighten around your shoulders, caressing your arm in an affectionate way as he reads. You feel at peace sitting with him in your apartment.

“Wake up,” Peter says gently.

You sit still, listening to him read and letting the sound of his voice surround you, believing that his previous statement is part of the story.

“Wake up, love,” Peter says, forcing you to face him. His tone is still gentle but there’s an edge to it that wasn’t there before. “Please wake up.”

“What-Peter?” you ask softly, confused.

“Please wake up, love. You need to wake up.”

You look around, noting the urgency in Peter’s tone. “Peter, what’s happening?”

“I love you,” he whispers, leaning closer and pressing his forehead to yours. “Everything will be okay, darling.”

“Peter!”

You sit up in bed, gasping Peter’s name. You look around your bedroom, breathing rapidly. You swear you can still feel his warmth but it’s fading quickly.

“Peter,” you whisper in the darkness as you realize it was just a dream. You sigh heavily, trying to come to your senses. It has been a while since you dreamed about Peter and you can’t help but feel shaken up by the abruptness at the end. It was so sweet, like how it used to be when Peter was alive. Even in the darkness, you long to be back in your dream, if only to feel like that again - to feel and smell Peter, to hear his voice.

You rub your eyes gently, yawning and contemplating your dream for a few seconds when your spidey senses go off. You look around quickly, going still to listen intently for sirens - for chaos. You hear nothing. You get out of bed regardless, walking to your radio, the one that alerts you of emergencies. You wait for it, but before any feedback comes from the device, the smell reaches you first.

Smoke.

You sniff again because you believe that you’re mistaken and that the scent must be something else. Yet, smoke is all you can smell.

“Fire?” you whisper to yourself before you rush into your suit.

You change quickly and put your gizmo on before you check your apartment, finding nothing, so you slip out through a window to check what’s going. Your eyes widen when you see it, disbelief and shock hitting you at once when you discover that one of the floors is in flames. Your heart sinks at the sight.

“Wake up.”

You frown as you remember your dream, Peter’s words specifically. It couldn’t be, could it? Did he warn you somehow, or is it just your imagination? You fix your mask, pushing your thoughts away for now, before you launch into action. You quickly move to the main floor on fire, breaking a window and slipping inside. The change of temperature is instant. Outside, it’s cold, being the beginning of winter, but as soon as you’re inside, you feel the heat from the flames. The smell of smoke is stronger now, filling your nose. You call out for someone, eyes searching for civilians as you move through the flames. You hear someone scream, causing you to turn in that direction. You carefully make your way there, knowing you need to hurry before the building is engulfed in flames with the tenants inside.

You find your way and discover a young woman that looks familiar. Your brain tries to identify her but in the heat of the moment, you can’t.

“My friend! She’s inside the bedroom! I think she passed out from the smoke, please get her out!” the woman says, covering her nose from the smoke, with tears rolling down her face.

“I’ll get you out first!” you reply grabbing her arm and pulling her towards you. “Once I get you out, call the police! I don’t think anyone has called yet!” you order her, as you try to hear for sirens but fail to.

You shoot your web, securing her and lowering her down the building until she reaches the ground before you begin to search for the other person. It doesn’t take you long to find the person. A young woman lays on the bedroom’s floor, passed out. You quickly check for a pulse and after finding one, you carry her out of the building, carefully delivering her to her friend on the ground. The first woman notifies you that she has called the police and that they and firefighters should be on their way. You also notice a small crowd of random people have gathered, so you instruct them to stay back and to not enter the premises.

You glance at the building for a few seconds, praying that it doesn’t go up in flames completely. As you swing back to the building’s wall, you thankfully hear sirens in the distance. You slip inside through a window belonging to another apartment, not caring to startle the tenants as your main priority is to get everyone out now. You quickly evacuate the floor mainly affected before you move to the floor above and below. At this point several tenants have heard the commotion, making your job easier in quickly evacuating them. However, you realize not everyone comes out, so you enter apartments, calling out for tenants you’ve seen in passing over the years, and finding some of them scared and shocked by the circumstances, so much that they don’t realize they need to get out. You find other individuals still sleeping and unaware of the situation, and must wake them up. The process is hard for you as you have to ease people’s fright from not only waking up to a masked person, Spider-Woman, in their homes, but also from the news of the fire as the flames grow and spread.

As you safely deliver some people out of the building, you notice the firefighters and police have arrived. The police has secured the premises, keeping the gathered civilians from entering the building while firefighters move quickly to stop the fire. As you lead a civilian to safety, you can hear someone talking over a megaphone, trying to wake up tenants from the floors above, still unaffected.

“Spider-Woman!”

You turn, pausing just as you were about to lunge off the ground. You find a firefighter, realizing it’s the captain. You don’t recognize him, which leads you to believe he’s new.

“I have people working on putting out the fire, and others on evacuating. These people have told me you’ve been evacuating tenants. What about the floor beneath?” the man asks. “I need to know so we’ll know what floors need evacuation.”

You quickly tell him what you’ve covered, easing the man’s worries for the main floors affected now.

“I’ll evacuate the floors below,” you add as you realize the building could collapse and trap those tenants.

“Alright, some of my people are already on it. We’re also trying to wake up the people on the higher floors to start evacuating!” the man says a little louder just as another firetruck pulls up with their sirens on.

“Got it!” you state.

“Be careful!” the captain calls out before he, too, jumps into the scene.

With a nod, you turn towards the building, finding several people now looking out from their windows before disappearing into their apartments from the higher floors, including people from your own. That’s not the only thing you notice however, you also take notice of the flames and how they’re spreading.

“Everything will be okay, darling,” Peter said.

Peter’s words flash in your mind as adrenaline rushes through your body. You lunge back into action and evacuate more tenants from the lower floors. Thankfully this doesn’t take as long now that you have the help of the firefighters, which allows you to focus on the floors above. It’s there that you run into another full family - parents and children. So far you’ve only encounter roommates and spouses but very few families with children. Seeing them, you quickly decide to make a safety net out of your web. You quickly make it, extending it from one lamp post to another one, making sure it’s big enough for adults and that’s it’s secure. After reassuring the tenants that it’s safe, you help the family reach safety out of the building with the assistance of the firefighters. Your safety net turns out to be very helpful as you don’t have to carry out so many people.

You feel confident as you evacuate more people but the smoke becomes unbearable. It’s all you can smell and it makes your eyes tear up, almost making you lose your balance at one point.

“Y/N! Do you need backup?” you hear a voice.

Lyla.

You shake your head, blinking several times before you finally spot Lyla above your gizmo. “No. No need for backup. I got the situation cover.” You start moving again, your steps determine as you lead some tenants towards the end of the hallway. “Don’t tell anyone. Not Miguel. Jess. Peter B.. No one,” you tell her as you carefully lead the tenants out.

All you see is Lyla disappear before you focus on the task at hand. You get the tenants out before running back to search again. You offer help as you enter an apartment. You walk past the kitchen, already in flames. Even with the sound of sirens outside, you hear something spark, catching your attention. Your spidey senses warn you just before it blows up. You instantly cover your face and stumble backwards as flames jump at you.

🕸️🕸️🕸️

Your sweatshirt lays where it always rests - near Miguel. Your comforting scent fills Miguel’s lungs as he sleeps peacefully, no nightmares disturbing his sleep. Yet, he startles awake. His eyes search his dark bedroom immediately before he sits up slowly. He detects nothing, not even a sound from the city outside, but that doesn’t ease the strange sensation in his chest.

“Lyla,” Miguel calls out because he’s certain that something is amiss.

“Miguel,” Lyla says a second later, appearing in midair with a tone that Miguel recognizes all too well.

“What’s happening?” he asks, already out of bed with his suit halfway on.

“She said she didn’t want backup,” Lyla replies, causing Miguel to pause for only a second before he continues to slide on his gizmo.

“Who?” Miguel asks, but his heart already knows the answer. He can feel that this is why he woke up. It has to be.

“Y/N.” Lyla follows Miguel as he rushes out of his bedroom and into the hallway. He jumps from the top of the stairs to the first floor, clicking his gizmo hurriedly. “Her building caught on fire. It doesn’t seem too bad. Only a few floors so far. She has been helping the tenants out of the building while the firefighters are working to stop the fire from spreading. I asked if she wanted backup but she asked me not to,” Lyla explains. “I was going to tell you.”

“Mierda. You should’ve,” Miguel says looking at the portal that he’s opened.

“Miguel, I don’t think she wants help. She’s doing perfectly well on her own, so, just - let her do her thing and then we can check up on her,” Lyla says as she follows Miguel, who in his hurry, rips the portal open with his suit to reach your universe sooner.

“She’s not hurt, is she?” Miguel asks, stepping out onto a nearby rooftop. The sound of sirens immediately fills his ears and of course, there’s the bright light from the fire itself. Miguel’s red eyes scan it, noticing that four floors are in flames and it’s spreading to the fifth. There’s a large crowd of people on the street in their pajamas - a sight that makes Miguel feel empathy. A fire is disastrous enough but even more so when it takes place on such vulnerable moments like one’s sleep.

“She’s not hurt but she seems tired though. She’s been carrying people out and searching the building for tenants non-stop.”

“Ask her if she wants backup again but don’t tell her I’m here,” Miguel says softly yet sternly, respecting your choice of declining backup, even though everything in him is screaming to go and find you.

Lyla disappears with a nod. She appears again thirty seconds later with a frown that makes Miguel frown, too.

“She said no,” Miguel says and Lyla nods. Miguel sighs heavily. “Keep up with her. Alert me if she needs help, please.”

Miguel watches from the rooftop, even after Lyla disappears, as the firefighters run around trying to put down the fire. They scream at each other, giving directions and warnings as they move about. Scanning the scene, Miguel spots a web trap you set up on one side of the building. He finds another one near the fire stairs to help tenants land on it from the higher floors. The large group of people in their pajamas reassures Miguel that you should be done soon - that you’ll be out of danger shortly.

He’s so concerned about your well-being it only now truly hits Miguel that this isn’t a random apartment building but yours. Your apartment. The realization instantly makes him feel sorrow - your beautiful place, the one you redecorated only months ago might be lost, but more importantly, Miguel realizes all your precious belongings might be damaged if not completely burnt to ashes. He specifically thinks about your record player and vinyls, knowing how much they mean to you because of Peter. He wonders, if there’s a slight chance that you took them out already, but Miguel feels certain that you haven’t, and that you’ve focused on safely evacuating the tenants before securing your own belongings.

“Lyla.”

“She still doesn’t want backup. She’s moving through the fifth floor,” Lyla says just as Miguel sees figures from one of the floors - the fifth one - reach the fire stairs. He spots you as you reinforce the web trap before you talk to the tenants, possibly assuring them that it’s safe. The individuals jump off one by one, safely landing on your web trap before they’re assisted by nearby firefighters.

Miguel’s heart beats heavily as you disappear into the building again, immediately hidden by the smoke and flames. “Her belongings. Did she take anything out yet?” Miguel says, forcing himself to speak, trying to push down his worry.

“She hasn’t. She trusts the firefighters will stop the fire before it reaches her floor.”

“What about the tenants on the higher floors? Have then been evacuated?” Miguel asks.

“Yes. They’ve been evacuated but Y/N is making sure everyone is out of the building.”

“How is she doing? How many more people are in there?” Miguel asks as he stands on the edge of the rooftop. He hasn’t even noticed it but he has been extracting and retracting his talons the entire time, anxiously.

“I’ll check.”

Miguel nods, standing alone as he watches the firefighters put out the fire on one side of the building, trying to contain it.

You push doors and enter apartments, quickly but efficiently checking for any civilians that may be in danger. You try to keep your head low to avoid inhaling smoke, which not only makes your eyes water but also makes you want to cough as you breath some of it in. You call out, offering help. There are no voices, yet you still check to make sure no one stays behind. You walk down the hallway, almost losing your balance from a large gap on the floor destroyed from the flames beneath. You tell yourself to be more careful and to avoid the smoke, as it’s blocking your vision. After regaining your balance, you look down and see the flames consuming the floor below. You make a jump for it, securing yourself with web just in case the floor gives out once you land. Fortunately, it doesn’t.

You step into another apartment, offering help. Your eyes scan the space hurriedly as you yell out for anyone. You’re so concerned about not leaving anyone behind that you fail to notice a loose wooden board hanging behind you as your eyes search the apartment. You look around, coughing a little due to the smoke before the board falls on you - hitting you on your shoulder. You wince, taking your shoulder and putting pressure on it to ease the ache that was left from it. You search room after room before you return to the hallway, making your way into another apartment. You enter it quickly, checking a bedroom and finding no one, before you go into the living room where you surprisingly fall through the floor and onto the one below.

You grunt softly as you feel the impact of the fall. Still on the ground, you look around and realize you’re lucky that you didn’t fall straight into flames but instead into a small pocket of space that has been spared from the flames - for now.

“She just fell through the floor but seems unscathed,” Lyla reports to Miguel.

He nods, concern etched on his face. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, she’s up now and searching the floor one last time.”

Miguel nods, eyes narrowing. His talons keep retracting and extracting unconsciously. It’s been a few minutes since he saw you come out through the fire stairs with a family. He silently hopes you get out of the building soon. His nerves have not settled down at all, even as he has been watching the firefighters work relentlessly to stop the spread of the fire.

“Anyone here?!” you call out as you cough out, knowing that the fifth floor has been cleared up.

“Here!”

You turn as you hear a masculine voice.

“Over- here!” the man says, his tone indicating pain.

You make your way to them as quickly as possible, crawling whenever you can to avoid the smoke. You come across a yellow suited person. A firefighter. You reach them quickly, realizing that they have debris over their legs.

“Spider-Woman,” the firefighter says as he realizes it’s you.

“I’m going to lift this off you, okay? Is that alright?” you ask them as you prepare to lift the debris off them.

“Yes - I think I have a broken leg,” the firefighter tells you.

You nod, feeling bad for the man before you gently lift the debris off them to avoid any more injuries.

“Okay, okay. I’m going to drag you to the nearest window - we need to get you out of this smoke,” you tell him.

“We both need to get out of this smoke,” he says, grimacing. “We can request a ladder from the window.”

“Alright, tell me if I’m hurting you,” you reply as you move around and position yourself. You lift him up from his underarms, your hands meeting in front of his chest to drag him, hoping you don’t meet with flames as you move. Your eyes water but you push through it as you spot a window. You move faster, avoiding injuring the firefighter.

“Ladder!” you yell out and thankfully, there’s a ladder on the floor below that quickly moves up to meet you. “Firefighter injured! Possibly a broken leg!” you inform the firefighter on the ladder.

“That’s Samuel! I was looking for him! Here!” the other firefighter responds as they set up to help you.

As a team, the non-injured firefighter and you lower Samuel down the ladder. Your sticky powers come in aid as you hold Samuel’s weight so the other firefighter doesn’t carry his weight alone. At last, the three of you reach the ground where other firefighters help with Samuel, taking him away to receive treatment.

“Is that everyone, Spider-Woman? We didn’t find any other tenants,” a woman says.

“I checked the fifth floor, there was no one else. Everyone else from the upper floors should have evacuated earlier but I’ll do one quick sweep,” you reply as your eyes scan the fire. It seems to be dying now thanks to the firefighters’ efforts but you still can’t find peace. Not until the flames are fully gone. You nod to the firefighters before you swing back to the building, hoping once again that your building, the one that you’ve lived at for years, won’t completely burn down.

You check every floor, thankful that the flames have not reached this point of the building. You can smell the smoke on yourself as you check every apartment to make sure that no one has stayed behind. As you search, you can’t help but feel sorrow. It seems that the firefighters are isolating the fire but even then, you’ve assisted in enough fires and know that the building will be inaccesible for a few weeks, if not months, depending on how fast an investigation is done to find the reasoning for the fire. It also depends on how soon the landlord starts with the cleaning and rebuilding.

You sigh deeply as you push through a door and search. You suddenly remember a conversation from weeks ago, making you pause in someone’s living room. Your memory connects the first woman you saved and her friend to New Year’s Eve. You sigh again but this time upset. You recall seeing the two women that evening when you were leaving the building at the same time to visit your loved ones at the cemetery. You move around the apartment, remembering that one of the women asked the other one if they had unplugged their Christmas lights. They didn’t. That reminds you of the fact that your landlord passed out a notice asking all tenants to avoid leaving the holiday lights plugged all day to avoid a short circuit last month. You silently wonder now if this fire was due to an overloaded socket, if this is an electric fire.

Finding no one in the apartment, you move to the next floor. You check the floor quickly and move to the next until you reach your floor. You check every apartment and then yours, even though you know there should be no one there. You move on to the next floors and thankfully, there are no tenants left inside. You notify the firefighters who tell you the fire has ceased at last. You linger around for a few minutes, hearing the worries and complaints of tenants - all worried about their housing situation. After hearing the firefighters inform tenants that no one can enter the premise until it can be ruled out that this isn’t a crime scene, you retreat silently and enter the building again undetected.

You find yourself in your apartment, standing in the middle of your living room, silently thinking about how you won’t be able to be here for some time. You allow yourself a few minutes before you begin to collect some items. The first items you collect are Peter’s record player and all the vinyls. You take them to your bed, deciding to make your bed the collecting place. You return to the living room, focusing on the photos on your wall. Once they’re collected, you move to the bookcase where you get Peter’s belongings, like his books and other small decorations. You also remember to retrieve photo albums storing photos from all the way to your childhood to the last years with Peter. Lastly, you pick up technological devices like your laptop and the tablet Miguel gifted you for Christmas from his universe from the living room.

At last, you focus on your bedroom, heading to the closet immediately. You quickly locate a plastic file organizer that contains important legal documents belonging to Peter and you. The two of you were prepared just in case something like this ever happened since neither of you wanted to lose important documents in a rush due to a fire or some other emergency.

You open the file organizer slowly, spotting a passport. You pick it up and open it. Peter’s photo greets your eyes and despite yourself, you stare at it for a few seconds. You briefly remember going together to renew it for a trip the two of you took years ago and how excited he was about it. The passport is still valid, leading you to silently wonder about the many trips the two of you would’ve gone on if everything was different. Smiling, you shake your head and place the passport back, zipping the file organizer back to avoid losing anything.

You look around your bedroom, not sure where you’ll be staying at yet. You grab your favorite tote bag, the one that Miguel gifted you this past Christmas, and place the file organizer in it. You search your bedroom and start putting other items into the bag. Your mind is concerned about the stability of the building. What if it collapses? This thought keeps running through your mind as you retrieve Peter’s box, the one that contains all of his clothes and other belongings you packed away. There’s no way you’re leaving his belongings behind and possibly losing them.

You bring the box to the bed, placing it next to the tote bag before you retrieve other items. Once you have a pile of items, you fetch a carry-on to pack everything in.

You search your apartment one more time, making sure you’re not leaving anything of sentimental value - anything that belonged to Peter or your parents. Finding nothing else, you begin to pack your belongings in the carry-on. As you pack, you finally start to think about where you’ll be staying. This situation is most likely going to last for a few weeks, if not months. You’re certain the fire started because of an electrical issue. The building is, after all, on the older side, and there was that notice from your landlord back in December. It seems to add up. However, even if the fire is deemed an electrical fire and there’s no need for a longer investigation, the cleaning and rebuilding of the building might take months unless your landlord miraculously pulls it together somehow. You can only hope but for now you have to figure out where you’ll be staying.

“Hotel,” you say to yourself as you remember the plan Peter and you came up with. The plan used to be your parents and Aunt May’s place but with them gone, it changed to a hotel. You sigh softly as you carefully pack your belongings, trying to avoid any damage to the sensitive items like the records. Your spidey senses suddenly go off again, causing you to turn.

“Please tell me you’re not actually considering staying at a hotel,” Miguel says softly as he comes in from the living room, hoping not to startle you. “You’re more than welcome to stay at my place.”

“Miguel,” you say gently as he approaches you, stopping near you but keeping enough distance to give you space.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his tone filled with concern. His eyes search your body, even in the barely lit room, trying to find any sign of injury. “Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m okay. At least, I think so,” you answer. “Nothing hurts.”

“Good. I’m relieved to hear that. I wanted - to help you, but Lyla said you didn’t want backup.”

“Lyla…” you say, narrowing your eyes as you remember declining backup and asking her not to tell Miguel or anyone else. “She told you.”

“No. She didn’t. I actually…” Miguel looks away for a few seconds. “I think I sensed it somehow. I woke up on my own and had this… feeling. When I asked her what was happening, that’s when she told me. I traveled here immediately but watched from afar, just in case you wanted backup,” Miguel says quietly, not quite sure what to make of this fact in the moment. All he cares about is that you’re unhurt, or at least it seems that way. He’ll be making sure of it once you both reach Nueva York, or somewhere far safer with better lighting.

You smile softly at the fact that Miguel somehow sensed your situation despite the fact that he doesn’t have a spidey sense. You stare at each other in the darkness of the room, thinking about that special connection between the two of you. Neither of you understand it, nor have addressed it since the day you told Miguel how you knew he was in trouble back in the spring when he came face to face with a variant of the Green Goblin and he was stranded on Earth-42, and he was injured. Despite not talking about it, the two of you have thought about it. Sometimes you wonder how is it possible but regardless, you feel comforted by it. As to Miguel, he used to find it both comforting and fearful, though these days when he thinks about it, he finds himself no longer feeling afraid of that bond and what it means. He’s embraced this connection - this bond - as the months have passed.

“I see. Well, thank you for coming and for respecting my decision about backup,” you tell him softly.

Miguel nods, looking at you. “Always,” he replies, knowing deep inside of him that he’ll always show up for you and respect your decisions. “You were - amazing,” he adds quietly.

You smile warmly, feeling a bit of heat in your cheeks thanks to Miguel’s compliment, but also because it reminds you of the times Peter used to tell you the same thing when he saw footage of you on the news. You blink softly, pushing the memories away for now.

“I was - okay, but thank you. I’m just glad no one was seriously hurt,” you reply, turning away and continuing to pack.

Miguel frowns. Did he say something wrong?

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you,” he says, softly.

You pause and turn to face him. “What - no. You didn’t. I’m sorry,” you whisper even though there’s no need to. There’s no else in the apartment, or even in the building. “Your words didn’t upset me. Seriously, thank you. It means a lot coming from another Spider person - coming from you,” you say with a warm smile, pausing to make sure that Miguel understands his words didn’t upset you. “Believe me. It’s just - I have Peter on my mind. I mean, he’s always there, you know? But tonight, with this fire - and collecting his items - he’s even more present in my mind right now, and your words… He used to tell me things like that when he saw me in action. I’m just feeling a little… sentimental.”

Miguel nods, understanding, yet also feeling relieved that he didn’t upset you with his words. “I see. I’m sorry that Peter…” he starts but is unable to finish as his mind runs with thoughts. If Peter was alive, Miguel is sure the two of you would’ve been packing together right now. Knowing how organized you are, Miguel imagines that the two of you had some plan in action for these kinds of emergencies. Instead, you’re here on your own packing Peter’s belongings because he’s no longer here. “I wish things were different,” he says at last, wanting to say more but not sure he should due to the sensitive circumstances.

You nod softly. “Thank you. It’s okay. Everything is going to be okay,” you reply, the last statement feeling sweet in your mouth as you recall Peter telling you that in your dream.

Miguel nods and watches as you pack, feeling admiration that even in this moment you seem so put together. “Always,” he answers quietly before he looks at your belongings. “Is this everything you’re taking? I can help take some of these items out to another rooftop, somewhere far from the building to avoid civilians’ eyes. We can open a portal from there.”

You look at him, eyebrows knitted in confusion.

“You’re not actually going to a hotel, are you? There’s Gabriel’s room, empty. You can stay there for as long as necessary. Until the building is deemed safe for living.”

“Miguel, that might mean that-” you start but Miguel shakes his head, and lifts his hand up, asking you to stop because he knows where you’re going with this.

“It might mean that you stay there for weeks, or even months. I know the process can be tedious and long in these situations. That’s why you can’t stay at a hotel. Not when you have options. Please, you’ll be far more comfortable there.”

You pause your packing and stare at the items on your bed, contemplating. Accepting Miguel’s offer would mean staying with him for at least a few weeks. That would entail taking some of his privacy away. You briefly think about the fact that neither of you have lived with someone in a while, especially you. There’s also the fact that you wouldn’t be sleeping here, in your universe, for so long - a thought that makes you a little sad.

“It’s not a problem for me,” Miguel starts, noticing your silence but sensing your internal debate. “You will not be invading my privacy. You’ll have your own space and I won’t bother you. Just - think about it. At least for tonight, stay there.”

You turn to him with a raised eyebrow. “Did you just say you won’t bother me? That’s not even something I’m worried about.” You shake your head softly, and despite everything, laugh a little, a sound that makes Miguel grin in the dim lit bedroom. “I’m concerned about the fact that I’d be sleeping in another universe for more than a few days. About invading your space. I don’t want to intrude and be a burden.”

“You’re not a burden. You could never be…” Miguel says gently, silently wondering why you’d think that. “We are… You know what we are.”

You nod slowly. “Yes… I know,” you whisper. You sigh after a few seconds and nod again. “Okay, just for a little bit - a few days.”

“Or, a few weeks. Months, if necessary. Unless you’re not comfortable at my home,” Miguel says quietly with a bit of a frown.

“It’s not that. I just - you’re used to your space, and I’m used to mine,” you answer quietly. “Neither of us has - you know - it’s been a while since either of us has shared our space with another person.”

Miguel nods, understanding what you mean, yet, he thinks back to the last spring when he was injured.“I know, but I think it’ll be okay. We’ve - kind of done it before.”

You stare at Miguel in surprise, realizing that he’s right. You’ve stayed at his home before and those days felt - normal, almost right. You both fell into a routine very quickly. Yet, you can’t help but think that after a few days of staying there, your presence might disturb Miguel’s routine.

“Don’t overthink it. If you’re not comfortable for whatever reason, then we can figure something out but please,” Miguel says.

You finally nod, because the man before you has been offering way too many times now for you to keep refusing, and besides, you’d feel better there than at a hotel room on your own.

“Okay, but if you need me to leave, please let me know, okay?” you ask.

Miguel nods, though he’s biting back from telling you that he would never do such a thing to someone who has found themselves in this situation, even less to you. However, Miguel refrains from voicing this thought because he doesn’t want to add stress to your already stressful morning.

“Alright... Is this everything you’re packing? For now, at least? We can come back later and retrieve more items.” Miguel looks around for a few seconds. “Honestly - we could take all your furniture and store it on one of the lower floors, just in case. That way nothing happens to your belongings.”

You shake your head gently at him, yet feel appreciation for the offer. “That’s not necessary. I don’t mind if something happens to this furniture. I hope not because that would mean the other tenants would lose their belongings, but I’m not as attached as I was to the old furniture, so I don’t mind. I have everything I want to save right, just in case. So, it’s alright, really,” you reply softly with a small smile.

“If you’re sure - if not, my offer stands. I’m sure if we get the whole group, we could get everything out in no time. I mean it,” Miguel says. “It would be no problem. Just think about it, okay?” he says gently, wanting to be as helpful as possible without pushing too much, though all he wishes to do is help you and be there for you for who he is - your friend. “Alright, I’ll help you with this bag and box. You can hold on to the record player, “ Miguel offers, knowing how much Peter’s record player means to you.

You nod and finish packing. “Thank you, I really appreciate it. After dropping everything off I’m coming back to see if anyone needs help. I hope you don’t mind me returning a bit later.”

“Of course not. I know there may be emergencies during the night, so you’ll need to go in and out. I understand. Don’t worry about it, okay?” Miguel replies and you nod, grateful. “Have you packed clothes, at least a few changes?”

You stop, realizing. You hadn’t even thought of that since you were more concerned with keeping Peter’s belongings and other sentimental items safe first. “I haven’t, let me do that really quickly.”

You find another travel bag, the one that you used back when you stayed at Miguel’s place when you were looking after him, and begin packing. In a matter of minutes you put it together, packing clothes for at least a week before you pack your personal hygiene products. At last, you have everything you think you’ll need. Miguel picks up Peter’s box and two travel bags as the two of you get ready to leave.

You thank him again as you pick up the other items and head to the window both of you entered the apartment through. Before slipping out, the two of you pause at the window, taking in one last glance - silently thinking that you’d like to see it one last time, just in case. The two of you exit the apartment before you close the window with a heavy pang in your chest. You hope that you’ll only be away for a few weeks, and not months from your little apartment but only time will tell. You follow Miguel, holding on to your belongings. You check very quickly to see what’s going on outside your building, wondering how many of your neighbors are still there. You notice that the crowd has become smaller, and some people are taking cabs.

About a minute later, you both land on a rooftop. Miguel opens a portal and gestures for you to go first. You do so, but not without another glance. You’ll be back in a few minutes to check on the situation but for now, you head to Nueva York - the only other dimension in the entire multiverse that feels somewhat like home.

You step out into Miguel’s living room, carrying your record player like it’s gold. You move out of the way for Miguel to step out before he gestures for you to follow him, leading the way.

“Come on,” Miguel says softly. “Let’s get you settled in.”

You follow him up the stairs and into the hallway, carrying your items. Miguel pushes the door open to Gabriel’s old room, and you’re back once again to this bedroom. You can’t help but feel nostalgia as you enter the room. It’s been many, many months since you stayed the night ever since Miguel was injured. You quickly get reacquainted with the bedroom, finding comfort in it. There’s the bookshelf with some books about science and repairing and as always, everything is clean and organized.

“I washed the bedding earlier this week but we can wash it again tomorrow if you want,” Miguel says as he places the box carefully on the floor, not sure what’s exactly in it. “Or, if you prefer, we can bring your bedding and take this one off so you’re more comfortable with your own later. I don’t mind it at all. Whatever feels more comfortable to you,” Miguel says taking the bag you’re holding from you and placing it on a desk. “Just - I want you to feel comfortable and - at home,” Miguel says softly, quietly. “So, feel free to use the room however you need. If you want to decorate it while you’re here… You can.” Miguel stares at the bed for a few seconds, silently wondering if he’s being too much by telling you to decorate the bedroom if you wish to. He’s not even sure if you want to stay for more than a few days after how long it took him to convince you because for some reason you think you’re going to be a burden.

You smile warmly at Miguel as he turns his gaze from the bed to you. “Thank you. I really appreciate it, truly. I was - I want to apologize for earlier,” you start. You meet his gaze, hoping he can see the sincerity in your words. “I’m not uncomfortable being here. At all. I just don’t want to disturb your peace. Your space. I hope I didn’t come off as rude when I kept declining your offer. I really do appreciate you letting me stay here. It means so much to me. Thank you, Miguel.”

After a nod, Miguel offers you a small smile. “Always,” he answers, still meeting your gaze and holding it. Your words linger in his head, the sincerity in them reaching his heart. He knows you were not trying to be rude, but that you really believe, for some unknown and odd reason to him, that you’ll be disturbing him somehow. He’s especially caught up in the words you said just now - how you don’t want to disturb his peace and space - and thinks to himself about how this penthouse only truly feels peaceful and homey when you’re here.

That’s not to say that there isn’t peace in this space. There is, only it’s a different kind, an unpleasant one. It’s from the lack of other people in the living space. It’s a kind of peace that Miguel can only describe as lonely. It’s one he’s known for many years.

He thought he was used to this peace prior to his short life in Gabriella’s universe, but Miguel has learned, twice now, that he might never truly feel used to it. He’s still not used to it, even though he finds himself in it often on evenings when he’s back here from HQ. It’s not until recently that he has found a way to make that lonely peace fade a little, and that’s through the record player you gifted him for Christmas. It’s through the music from your universe and the scratching of the vinyl that Miguel manages to push away that unpleasant peace that gnaws at him.

On those evenings, the penthouse feels more welcoming to him, and not so cold and foreign. He never thought something so simple would help, but then again, Miguel never thought a piece of fabric with your scent on it and the sound of your breathing would help him get proper sleep either. Miguel has learned to accept it, to embrace it really, so he plays the record player and listens to the music from your universe, sometimes feeling like he’s not even home but at your apartment - at your universe - as he works. It’s how he tranquilizes that lonely peace in those hours, how he suppresses that gnawing feeling.

While the record player provides a temporary relief, Miguel has noted that the only time that feeling is truly gone is when you're there, at his penthouse.

You fill the penthouse with a warm and comfort that Miguel only used to feel when Gabriel lived with him and when Miguel lived in Gabriella’s universe. You bring a warm peace that he only felt with Gabriel and Gabriella, and now with you.

Miguel clears his throat, reminding himself that the two of you are still standing here in your apartment, and that you're still smiling warmly at him. He feels tempted to tell you all his thoughts from just now, but it’s still too soon, and his thoughts are so vulnerable.

“You won’t be disturbing me. I promise,” Miguel says softly, opting for that simple and straightforward answer as he looks away, trying to think of what else he can do to make you feel welcomed before he continues speaking. “Is there anything I can get you? Are you hungry or - actually, are you sure you’re not hurt? Lyla told me you fell through one of the floors. Does anything hurt?” he asks, frowning deeply as his eyes turn back to you, searching your face and suit for any indication of cuts, bruises, or blood.

You smile fondly at him as you recognize the concern on his face. “I feel alright. I didn’t get hurt when I fell. I just feel a little sore now,” you reply as you place your mask on the desk. You can still smell the smoke on yourself, which makes you wish for a shower now, but you have yet to return to your universe and make sure your help is no longer needed.

“I’ll get you some painkillers and water,” Miguel says as he watches you place your mask on the desk for now.

“I appreciate that. Thank you.” you say softly as you rub one of your eyes. You can feel the exhaustion begin to kick in so you grab your mask again. “I need to get going. I can feel my body begin to relax.”

“Have some water first,” Miguel says. “C’mon. It will freshen you up and then you can go back.”

You follow Miguel back downstairs to the kitchen where he fills a glass with water and offers some painkillers. He watches as you take them, relieve that he can look after you in a small way at least.

You finish the water and give him a grateful smile. “Thank you. I didn’t know I needed that until now.” You stretch slightly after you place the glass on the counter. “Alright, let me go back. I’ll be back in a few. Thank you for - everything,” you say softly as you hold on to your mask.

Miguel nods with a soft smile. “Always... Be careful. if you need anything - let me know, please.”

You nod gently. “Will do. I’ll see you in a bit.” With that, you head back to your universe, leaving Miguel in the kitchen.

Upon arriving to your universe, you head to your building. The smoke has died down by the time you reach it. The police cars and firetrucks are still there, securing the area. Some tenants linger, figuring out what to do now in the middle of the night. You assist them as best as possible and offer additional help to the firefighters, learning through the captain that the firefighter that you helped earlier sends his gratitude and will recover successfully from his injuries.

It’s not until an hour later that you return to Miguel’s universe. You step out into the living room, finding Miguel standing near the windows. He's staring out at the city in silence, still wearing his suit, as if he’s been ready just in case you needed his assistance.

Upon hearing your arrival, Miguel turns around and faces you. His eyes search your body once again, scanning for any injuries but he finds none.

You greet him with a small smile, definitively feeling tired now. You stare back at him as he looks at you, not surprised he’s still awake despite the time it is. “Sorry it took me a while, I got caught up.”

Miguel shakes his head. “It’s alright. Don’t worry about it. You must be tired,” he says, his eyes searching your face.

“Yes, a little bit. It’s… wow. It’s now past six,” you say, realizing. You also realize you need to shower since you still smell like smoke. “I really need a shower.”

“Go ahead. I’ll be down here. There’s clean towels in the bathroom, but if you need anything, please let me know,” Miguel says quietly.

“Thank you! Are you - Are you not tired?” you ask, wondering if Miguel will get back to bed, at least to catch half an hour of sleep before he heads to HQ.

Miguel smiles softly and shakes his head. “No. I’m not tired, but you must be. Shower, and I’ll have something for you to eat. Then you can sleep.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that. Breakfast, I mean. I’ll…” you trail off, realizing your routine is going to be different for a little while. You look at Miguel and smile sheepishly, which makes him grin in amusement.

“Your routine is going to feel off for a few days but - I believe you’ll fall back into it again, which reminds me…” Miguel starts, meeting your gaze. His grin dissipates, amusement placed to the side for the time being because what he wants to tell you is serious. “I told you earlier that I want you to feel at home. I mean it. I know it’s going to be a little different. You’re not only going to be in a different environment from your own but in an entirely different universe. If you decide to stay here, of course,” Miguel says, still unsure of your thoughts on this.

You were reluctant earlier, and for all he knows, you’re only interested in staying here for a few days, even if he hopes for the opposite. “I’ve offered for you to stay here for as long as you need. It can be a few days, a few weeks, a few months…” Miguel says trailing off, almost saying you could stay here for years if you wanted to, but he stops just in time before he actually says it because you might find it strange that he’d be okay with this.

In fact, Miguel realizes right now that he’d be perfectly happy with it, which makes his cheeks feel hot. He clears his throat gently. “What I’m trying to say is that - My home is your home,” Miguel continues, his eyes still meeting yours. His gaze has been unwavering the entire time, hoping that he drives home his offer and that you understand that you're not a burden. “Whatever you decide to do, I’ll be there for you and respect it, just know you’re welcomed here. Please don’t feel like you’ll be a burden as you said earlier. You’re not,” he says much more softly. “I don't know how long you'd like to stay here. You don’t have to decide that now in this instant, but I do want you to know that whether you stay a day or months, you can use the penthouse however you want to. If you want to read in the living room like you always do back in your universe, or if you want to randomly bake cookies at 10am or 9pm, you can. If you want to use one of the offices, you’re more than welcomed to. Same as the laundry room -” Miguel pauses, thinking that maybe he’s overdoing it. He scratches his neck softly, his eyes moving away for a few seconds before they return to you. “I just want you to know that you don’t need to be limiting yourself or, feel like you need permission, or something like that. In any way. My home is your home.”

You nod gently, feeling appreciation and gratitude towards Miguel. There’s also tenderness swirling in your mixture of feelings. Here he is telling you his home is your home.

“And also - I know,” Miguel says with a small shrug and an apologetic smile, but he has been thinking about all of these things while you've been away. And, Miguel knows you very well. “You don’t have to worry about groceries or anything like that. Unless it’s something that can only be acquired from your universe, then yes, but otherwise, don’t worry about it, okay?” Miguel says, staring intently at you with his hands on his hips now.

“About bills-” you start.

“Nor about paying bills. Or rent,” Miguel says lifting his hand, and pointing at nothing in particular, a signal that he had that on his mind as well. Miguel mentally runs through his list of points. While he waited for updates from Lyla about you, he thought of these details. He thought about how your daily routine will feel off for a few days and how you’ll probably want to pay for staying here. Miguel stares at you, noticing you want to debate this. “Please. I know that if it was me, you’d do the same,” Miguel adds softly, hoping to make you see his side. His words, Miguel notices, seem to hit home because he sees the shift in your eyes.

You nod once more and sigh softly. You shake your head at him, a small smile forming on your face. The exhaustion is hitting but you still find it in yourself to smile to him. “You know me - too well,” you say quietly because his words have struck home. Miguel is absolutely right. If it was him in your situation, you’d be telling him the exact same things down from asking him not to worry about bills nor groceries, and about making himself at home at your apartment. You’d be trying to be as helpful as possible, to comfort him as much as you can. A part of you still wants to discuss some of these points, but you decide to leave it for later.

Miguel’s eyes lit up as he sees your small, tired but nonetheless sweet smile. He feels like he has finally made his point after all his talking with just a few words. Miguel returns the smile. “I’ll be making breakfast while you shower. If you need anything - at all - just tell Lyla and she’ll let me know. Don’t worry about anything else for now,” Miguel says and nods to the stairs, as if silently asking you to go on.

You nod and give Miguel a playful grin that fills his chest with warmth.

“Alright, I’m going to go shower. I’m probably stinking up your penthouse like smoke,” you say, nodding to the stairs. “Before I go though - I just want to thank you for everything, Miguel. I truly appreciate it,” you utter softly, your tone filled with sincerity and gratitude.

Miguel nods gently, his lips curling into a soft smile. “Always.”

You smile back at him and nod.

“Go on. I’ll be down here. Let me know if you need something, alright?”

“I will, thank you,” you reply softly, still smiling at him. You give him a nod, and with that you, you head upstairs.

You enter Gabriel’s bedroom, finding your belongings more organized than you left them. You also notice that Miguel has added another blanket, a fuzzy one.

You gather everything you need for your shower, including a change of clothes. Before you exit the bedroom, you pause at the door and look out the window. The sun is already making its way up in Nueva York. You grin softly before you head to the bathroom to shower at last. You shower quickly and do everything you need to after your shower, dressing into comfortable clothes. You hope not to sleep all day but you recognize your body is tired and needs to rest for a bit. Besides, you have a feeling that Miguel might get on to you if you don’t, which you find endearing.

You head back downstairs once you’re done, feeling clean and fresh. You mentally tell yourself to wash your suit once you wake up. It’s one of the many things you’ll need to do. You start thinking about setting up your room for the time being and about the little things you’ll have to do back home, like taking out the food from the fridge that will go bad if it hasn’t already, since you’re certain the fire was an electrical one considering there was no power when you were evacuating civilians out of the building. There’s also your laundry, and other small things of the sort to think about. You silently think about creating a list as you finally reach the kitchen.

Miguel turns at the sound of your footsteps. He notices the look on your face, the one you get when you��re lost in thought, and he’s sure you’re already thinking about the many things you wish to do.

“We’ll get things sorted out,” Miguel says softly as you take a seat at the counter at last. He notices the little sigh that escapes past your lips and the way you slightly lean on the counter to get some relief. He thinks about how you’ve been on your feet since you woke up; swinging, crawling, and carrying people nonstop. The closest you got to a break was when you took the painkillers and drank water.

Miguel is sure that now that you’ve showered and you’ve sat down, that all your aches and exhaustion will truly begin to surface. “Eat some breakfast. Rest. And then, we can do everything that needs to be done, alright?” he adds, as he places two glasses in front of you. One with orange juice and the other with water, opting not to offer you coffee right now so you'll rest properly.

You nod and give him a tired smile. “Alright. Thank you, truly,” you say quietly as you grab the glass with water since your mouth feel a little dry. You chug it down gently, finding relief, before you set it back down.

Miguel takes the glass and refills it for you before placing it back and checking on the stove. He stirs the food he's cooking, making it the only noise that fills the space. You don’t know what Miguel is cooking, but whatever it is, it smells fantastic and makes your mouth water. You drink more water as Miguel cooks, his back to you. You close your eyes for a bit, feeling the need to close them.

“Hey, how are you doing?”

You open your eyes and find Lyla. She floats near your face with a concerned look on her face, so you offer her a smile. “I’m alright, thank you. What about you?”

“I’m well, thanks. Glad to hear you’re okay,” Lyla replies with a little grin, though her eyes still show concern. “You did well.”

“Thank you. Also… thank you for respecting my wish and not telling Miguel,” you quietly tell Lyla though you’re sure Miguel is not even listening as he opens cabinets to get some items out.

“You got it, boss. I would’ve told him if I saw that you were in danger but,” Lyla pauses with a proud smile. “You were killing it. Miguel and I were just watching you in awe.”

“Breakfast is about to be ready,” Miguel says from the stove.

Lyla and you both turn to Miguel and share a little grin.

“Well, you did amazing but you really need to rest now. I agree with Miguel on this one,” Lyla says. “So rest up. Please.”

You nod with a little smile.

“Hm, didn’t know she had that term in her vocabulary,” Miguel comments as he places a plate with food in front of you.

“I do, I just don’t use it for you. Only with special members,” Lyla says with a shrug, which reminds Miguel of something Lyla said a while back. She mentioned you are one of her top five favorite members. Miguel silently wonders once again what your spot is, and who are the other four members. He has a feeling Spider-Plushie, Spider-Cat, Spider-Wolf, or Spider-Rex are up there with you.

He clears his mind and gives you utensils along with napkins, making sure you have everything so you can eat properly. Lyla has already disappeared.

“Thank you. My mouth is watering,” you tell Miguel as you look at the food.

“Go ahead and start eating. Your body needs it to recover,” Miguel says gently, gesturing for you to eat.

You take a bite and involuntarily close your eyes at the flavor. You would happily pass away right now with this amazing food.

Miguel watches your reaction, smirking softly at the sight and feeling pleased. He thought by now he would be used to it but each time, without failure, the sight of you smiling and enjoying the food makes him joyous. It’s so satisfying for some reason.

“Are you not eating?” you ask, looking at him now with wonder in your eyes.

The question brings him back to the moment and he nods. “Yes. Yes, I am,” he replies, offering you a little smile before he turns around to fix himself a plate. For a moment he forgot about himself, being more concerned with you eating first. He serves himself breakfast before joining you at the counter, taking the seat he always does. He silently thinks about how you both always sit on the same chairs, as if you were assigned to them. He smiles at this thought before he turns to look at you, finding you enjoying your food.

His face softens at the sight, and he’s suddenly overwhelmed with a feeling he’s had ever since you first stepped foot into his home this morning, and one that has stayed with him. He feels the need to stay here with you, to work from home so he can keep an eye out for you while you rest. He doesn’t want to tell you this though. Miguel knows you well and is certain that you’d try to work, or even go to HQ to avoid “disrupting” his routine if he tells you about his plan. He takes his utensil, getting ready to eat as he thinks about it. He’ll go to HQ and stick around for an hour before he comes back for the rest of the day, but that’s a secret, for now.

He takes a bite of food, appreciating the flavor as he silently plans. He’ll be back in an hour and easily ask Jess or Peter if they can fill in for today’s planned missions. If there’s any missions regarding anomalies, he’s sure other members can handle such missions. Miguel pauses as he thinks of other members, thinking of your friends.

“The others might wonder where you are. Do you want me to tell them what happened, and that you’re here?” Miguel asks gently. “Or, do you prefer to let them know yourself?”

You put down your glass and think. You haven’t even thought about them, feeling too exhausted. “Do you mind telling them?”

“I don’t. I can tell them once I get to HQ. I can tell them that they can come see you once you’re up for it, if you’d like,” Miguel says after he cleans his mouth. “Which is another thing I forgot to mention earlier. I know they visit you often back at your universe, so they can come here if you’d like.”

You shake your head slightly. “Thank you but that’s alright. You’re been far too generous already.”

Miguel frowns softly. “I mean it. I wouldn’t mind it, but if you prefer not to, that’s your choice. Just know that I’m fine with it. As I said earlier - my home is your home,” Miguel says picking up his own glass and taking a drink.

You smile at the offer but you don’t want to take advantage of Miguel’s kindness. Besides, you know you can always visit your friends, or arrange to meet up at HQ. You find it sweet though, the fact that Miguel has offered his home to you, and that he has said his home is your home. Not once but three times now.

The two of you eat in silence, enjoying both the food and each other’s company. Miguel keeps the conversation short, as he knows you must be exhausted. When the two of you are done and Miguel notices you standing up and retrieving your dishes, Miguel moves quickly. He takes the dishes from you gently, shaking his head.

“Don’t worry about it. I got it. Go ahead and rest. Really,” he says as you start to protest. He sees your little frown, and Miguel wonders if this is what you feel like when you want to help him and he protests because he believes that you’ve done too much for him already. He wonders if you feel frustration when he declines politely the way you are now when all he wishes to do is look after you. He sighs softly and places your dishes on top of his before he turns to you. “I’ll be at HQ but if you need anything - at all - please let me know. And again, please make yourself at home. Also, don’t worry about anything else for right now. We’ll sort it out but you need to rest for now, okay?” he says softly, eyes meeting yours.

You nod, noticing the look on Miguel’s face. Concern is written all over it. For a few seconds you wish you weren’t making him this concerned before your mind moves on to the fact that he said “we” when referring to tasks you’ll need to get done, as in the two of you will figure things out together. It’s the second time he’s said it and his words comfort you, deeply. You blindly thought your building would never go through a situation like this one and even less that you’d go through it without Peter. Sure, you were both prepared because that was the responsible thing to do, but you never thought you’d actually have to retrieve the file organizer for such a circumstance - that you’d be packing without Peter. You’re overwhelmed suddenly with the thought that you would’ve been alone for all of this if it wasn’t for Miguel. If you weren’t in the Spider Society, this morning would’ve been very different. You swallow the knot that’s forming in your throat and nod again, feeling emotional and so exhausted. “Okay, I will. I guess - I’ll be here,” you reply quietly, feeling like all your exhaustion is hitting you at once now that you’ve showered, eaten, and have relaxed. The adrenaline has finally worn off, and now you’re all emotion and exhaustion.

“Good,” Miguel replies gently, offering you a small smile. “I’ll let the others know you’re here, so they’re not too worried about you.”

You nod, biting your lower lip subtly and looking away for a few seconds. “Alright, be careful, please.”

Miguel blinks softly at the words, caught by surprise. He nods regardless and offers you a small but reassuring smile. “I will.”

With that, you nod and turn around. You walk towards the living room to head upstairs but pause at the doorway - having the need to say more.

Miguel stands up once he sees you pause. He wonders if something’s wrong. Perhaps you didn’t notice you had injuries earlier but now you’re feeling them, or maybe you’re so tired you’re disoriented. He takes three steps forward before you turn around and meet his gaze.

“Miguel?”

“Yes?” he responds softly, worry etched on his face.

“I think - I’m really tired. My exhaustion is hitting at last and that’s probably why I really want to tell you something I usually wouldn’t.”

Miguel’s eyebrows rises slowly, wondering.

“I truly appreciate everything you’ve done. I don’t think I will ever be able to thank you enough even if I said it a million times but it means so much to me,” you start. “You showing up and respecting my decision for no backup, but sticking around just in case. Helping me with my belongings and of course, offering me to stay here and trying to make me feel at home,” you add with a wavering voice. “It means so much to me and I wish -” you swallow gently, definitely feeling exhaustion take its toll on you, making it harder for you to hold back from expressing sentiments you’d usually hold close to your heart with Miguel. The words roll out of your mouth quickly and your voice quivers as if you were making a dire confession. “I wish I could give you a hug - a really tight one - just to emphasize with more than words - how much it means to me.” You pause for a second before finishing. “And I should go to sleep before I keep saying things. I hope that didn’t make you uncomfortable, and if it did, I’m really sorry.”

You nod quickly before walking away, not wanting to make Miguel feel more uncomfortable than he probably already is by lingering around. You leave Miguel behind, who watches you leave with a soft expression on his face. His cheeks are flushed and his hands form into soft fists as he stands alone now.

He continues to stare through the doorway, only seeing part of his living room now, and wonders… What would it be like? What would it be like to let you do exactly what you wish to do? What would it feel like to be hugged again? To feel warm arms wrapped around him? And what if he hugged you back?

Miguel sighs deeply as he leans on the counter before he gently hits the countertop with his fist.

What if?

Miguel’s mind is clouded with your words, with the possibility. He has been thinking about it for weeks now - two months, really. He has been thinking about it ever since Thanksgiving when the two of you, at his request, invited your friends over because there was so much food even after you both ate. He was caught up with the younger members, the spiderlings as you call them, a nickname that Miguel finds endearing and that he has found himself using mentally - even catching himself almost saying it verbally at times. The spiderlings were asking him questions about his sound system and he ended up showing them other devices from his universe. He remembers looking over from the living room to the kitchen and dining area and finding you leaning your head on Peter B.’s arm, so at ease.

For some reason, ever since that night, Miguel has been thinking about it more. About how much more open you are to physical touch. He notices it more these days. From the little gestures like high-fives to the big gestures, like on New Year’s Eve just a few weeks ago when Noir and Spider-Ham were talking to him and he realized you were suddenly gone from his side. He ended up finding you talking with Peter B.. Miguel relaxes his fists as he remembers, vividly, Peter’s arm around your shoulder and once again, how comfortable you were. The sight only added more fuel to his thoughts about physical touch.

Miguel looks at his pinky. There has been some physical touch. Some of it has been unintentional, of course. Miguel is not opposed to physical touch when it’s necessary, like on missions. He picks up civilians, carries them. When spider-people are in danger and need a hand, he lends one but on his day to day life, his personal life - Miguel has been limited. All contact in these situations involve having his suit on, so no skin to skin contact is made. Ever since losing Gabriella, the only person he has touched - with his bare hands and nothing in between - has been you with the pinky squeezes. He also remembers holding Mayday the day you were babysitting her but that’s it.

It’s just you and the pinky squeezes. The first time he did it, he didn’t even plan on it. It happened. All he knows is that his pinky was suddenly wrapped around yours, and he gave a little squeeze. Now there’s been a few other times, the last one being on New Year’s Eve. Everyone was hugging and welcoming the new year, and Miguel thought - after seeing all your friends hug you - that he’d try and give you a “hug” in his own way. It was also his way to comfort you a little bit after you cried, which made his heart ache even if you were crying “happy” tears as you said to him that night.

Besides the pinky squeezes, that’s all there has been, except for the first time he touched you. Miguel sighs as he realizes it will soon be two years since that day, making him wonder where the time has gone. He remembers it vividly, however, how he pressed his hand to your forehead almost two years ago to see if you had a running fever. He didn’t even think about it in the moment. Before he knew it, his bare hand was pressed to your skin and it was the first time since Gabriella that Miguel had touched anyone skin to skin.

Your words have Miguel standing here now, in his kitchen, contemplating. That’s not all though. He feels his heart speed up at the fact that you said you wished you could hug him, that you were telling him something you normally wouldn’t tell him and it was this. It means you’ve wished to hug him before. Miguel silently wonders how many times have you wished for this? He’s seen the way your hands sometimes reach for him but stop halfway, remembering his boundaries but how many times have you wanted more than pat his hand or arm? How many times have you wished to embrace him?

Miguel wonders again - what would it feel like to have the privilege of being hugged by you? What if he hugged you back, and embraced your warmth?

“Dios,” Miguel whispers as he stares down at his hands. He can feel a tingling, almost as if his own hands are asking - begging - him to go and feel.

He pushes himself off the counter and walks off, heading upstairs. His steps are quick but quiet to avoid disturbing you, and in truth, Miguel doesn’t know what he’s doing, not even when he reaches Gabriel’s bedroom door and he finds it ajar. He stands still and listens, his ears filled instantly with your soft breathing.

Miguel pushes the door open softly and sure enough there you are. You lay on the bed, under warm covers. The blanket reaches your collarbone area, keeping you warm. He steps in quietly, noticing the sunlight filtering through the windows and just before he calls for her, Lyla appears and gestures to the windows. Miguel nods gently as he watches his AI assistant give the command for the holographic blinds to lower. He watches for a few seconds as they’re lowered before he lifts his hand, giving a silent command to stop when they’re two thirds of the way closed as he doesn’t want you to wake up in full darkness.

He nods at Lyla who gives him a thumbs up and disappears, sensing that she needs to head out. Miguel watches you sleep. Your face is relaxed and there’s a soft look on your face. You’re, as always, hugging a pillow. Your breathing is soft and even - a sound that Miguel is far too well acquainted with, for this sound is his lullaby.

His hands still itch and he wonders, if you were awake, would he have done it? Would he have walked up to you and hugged you? Or would he have told you that you could hug him, and then he’d embrace you? Miguel shakes his head. There’s no use in thinking about it now. You’re asleep. Still… Miguel steps closer and extends his arm towards you. His index finger is inches away from your cheek.

Miguel retrieves his arm and drops it, telling himself you’re asleep and that it would be inappropriate to touch you, even if it’s only your face. He sighs quietly, looking around the room and making sure everything is alright. He wants to ensure that you’re safe and sound, one last time. Earlier when he came to place the blanket and organized your belongings a little better, he made sure that all the furniture was in good standing. He even made sure the floating shelves were secured to avoid any sort of injury, or to avoid your belongings falling.

Satisfied, Miguel glances back at you one more time. You’re fast asleep, resting after the exhausting early morning you had. He walks out of the bedroom, leaving the door the way you left it and returns back downstairs to make sure everything is turned off at the kitchen.

At last, Miguel heads to HQ, feeling like he’s missing something.

🕸️🕸️🕸️

Miguel closes a tab just as he hears people talking. He’d usually narrow his eyes in annoyance that people walked in unannounced - even if this is the norm from almost everyone - but today he requested this group specifically. He turns around as he hears the voices grow louder, and already, he can hear your name being mentioned.

“I sent her a message earlier to ask if she wanted a bagel. She seems to be offline,” he hears Gwen say.

“Offline? She’s never offline,” Miles replies, his tone uncertain about the situation.

“Maybe she needed a little break but… I think she would’ve told us she was doing that,” Peter B. adds with furrowed eyebrows. His gears already turning as he holds Mayday.

“That’s because I disabled her gizmo’s notifications,” Miguel says, immediately catching everyone’s attention.

“Is Y/N okay?” Pav asks, looking at Miguel with concern.

Miguel nods, his face softening at the sight of your concerned friends, especially from the younger members, the spiderlings. “She’s okay. She’s safe. Just - exhausted,” Miguel says to reassure your friends about your safety before he tells them about the fire. Your friends listen intently, concern clear on their faces as Miguel explains the situation, emphasizing that you’re safe and uninjured. “She’s here.”

“Here at HQ?” Noir asks.

Miguel shakes his head. “No. Not here at HQ. She’s here in Nueva York, but she’s staying at my place. I don’t know… For how long,” Miguel says pausing. He doesn’t know what your plans are. Will you be staying there for however is necessary, or will you try to go somewhere else? He tells himself that’s a question for later, for now all that matters is that you recover and rest. “But, she wanted to let you know that she’s okay. She has no injuries, thankfully. Her floor was spared from the fire, and we can only hope that the building remains stable,” Miguel continues. “I’m not sure that she’ll be here today. I think she should rest but, just know she’s safe.”

“Man,” Peter B. says almost in disbelief, hugging Mayday closer. “Why didn’t she ask for backup?”

Miguel turns to Peter B., agreeing more than ever on something with him. “She didn’t want backup. She asked Lyla not to notify anyone, but I’m sure you all know that she - she’s always -” Miguel pauses, feeling the stares from the members. “She’s always diligent. Always cautious. She’s - ” Miguel waves a hand around as if telling the members that they should know this. The members watch him, fighting the urge to smile because it’s not every day that Miguel O’Hara gives compliments. “She’s amazing, so she did well on her own,” Miguel finally manages to say. “She’s just exhausted. If you wish to tell her something, I’ll set it up so that the notifications don’t disturb her sleep, or you can wait till later in the day and maybe do a live call.”

Your friends nod, feeling sad that you’re going through this but they’re relieved that you’re uninjured and if all goes well, your apartment should be fine.

“What if the building becomes unstable and her belongings are all lost?” Margo asks.

Miguel turns to Margo, his eyes moving to everyone. His eyes stop on Jess, who raises one eyebrow at him, wondering, too. He nods at your friends.

“I offered to store her belongings here but I’ll ask her again.”

“We can help her move her items if she agrees,” Pav replies.

Miguel looks around, watching everyone nod at Pav’s statement. He feels comforted by the fact that your friends are so supportive.

“I’ll let her know,” Miguel responds gently.

He watches as your friends begin to talk, sharing ideas of things they want to do to be supportive. Miguel stares at them as they walk out, planning. He turns to Jess and Peter B. who stick around.

“I’m glad you guys stuck around. I wanted to ask you something,” Miguel starts, facing them.

“We’ll take care of it,” Jess responds.

“What?” Miguel replies, frowning.

“She said we’ll take care of it,” Peter B. says with a knowing smirk.

Miguel glances between the two of them.

“You’ll do your thing for about an hour and then go home, right? That’s what you’re doing.”

Miguel turns to Jess, still frowning.

“We got it, Miguel. You don’t have to worry. We’ve done it before, remember? About a year ago when you were injured. You go and, you know,” Peter say as he plays with Mayday’s hand, who looks up at him and nods her head, as if she, too is telling him to go.

Miguel loses the frown and nods, having no way to deny that they figured out his plan.

“Right. So you guys will be okay?” Miguel asks.

“Yes,” Jess replies. “You go and check on her. Give us the hour before you head out though. I’d like to put something together for her, and as you heard, the other members want to do something. That way you can take it to her.”

“I’ll let everyone know that we have about an hour,” Peter says nodding at Jess.

“Alright. I’ll be working on some things here,” Miguel replies gazing at the two members. “Thank you,” he adds, sharing a look with them.

“No problem,” Jess responds.

“Happy to help. We just want Y/N to be okay and feel supported. She loves her apartment so much, I’m glad the fire didn’t reach her floor,” Peter says.

“Me, too,” Miguel answers softly, turning away to begin working on his screens.

Jess and Peter B., unbeknownst to Miguel, share a knowing look before they head out.

🕸️🕸️🕸️

An hour later, Miguel closes out from his tabs, ready to head out. He would be lying if he said that he hasn’t been thinking about you or that he’s been asking Lyla to check on you while he’s away. It’s been reassuring to have her check on you, at least.

Miguel quickly gathers different items that he needs to take with him, since he’s decided that he’ll be working from home for the rest of the day and then, he waits on his platform. Jess and Peter told the others he’ll be heading out to check on you and that he might not come back, even though they both know he’s not coming back today for sure. He looks up just as your friends come into view, carrying bags with them.

He receives bag after bag, nodding at your friends as they share tidbits about the items they bought you. Miguel finds it endearing, of course. His lips twitch, wanting to curl into a smile as the younger members mention buying your favorite snacks from their universe.

“I’ll give her everything when she wakes up,” Miguel promises, finding common ground with your friends.

Your group of friends thank him but before they head out, Miguel remembers something. “I’ve enabled her notifications again, only for you guys, so if you wish to send her something, it’ll go through.”

Your friends nod happily at the news and as Miguel prepares to leave, he can hear their giddy voices about being able to send you messages again. He shakes his head and smiles softly before he heads out, ready to check on you.

It doesn’t take long for Miguel to reach his home. He finds himself quickly there and after placing all the bags your friends sent on the kitchen counter, Miguel heads upstairs to check on you. He finds you in bed, still sleeping. You’ve changed sides but you’re still holding on to your pillow. The sight satisfies him. He’s relieved that you’re resting and that you seem so peaceful after everything.

Miguel heads back to his bedroom and takes a shower since he didn’t take one before leaving for HQ and dresses in comfortable clothes. His plan is to stick around the penthouse for the day and help you get settled in. He also wants to look around the penthouse and make sure there’s space for you to set your items if you wish to, since all Miguel wants is for you to feel at home.

After checking the entire place for any necessary changes, Miguel starts thinking about lunch. He debates between ordering takeout or cooking something and ultimately decides to cook, believing that a homemade meal will be more appreciated. He thinks about what he should cook and eventually decides on a few dishes, knowing he has the items necessary before he checks on your universe. He knows you always do a morning patrol so he has Lyla check and make sure there’s no emergencies. He also checks on your building to make sure that it’s still standing. He sighs in relief when he sees that it is through his screens at home. He reminds himself to offer to bring the rest of your belongings again once you wake up since even your other friends offered, meaning everyone is on board.

Miguel works on other things throughout the morning, reading data from other universes - making sure the fate of the multiverse isn’t in jeopardy but every thirty minutes or so, he asks Lyla to check on you since he doesn’t want to end up waking you by accident with him checking on you physically. Thankfully, Lyla reports that you’re well and still sleeping peacefully.

It’s not until almost noon that you wake up. You feel lost for a few seconds, not realizing where you are until you remember that you’re in Miguel’s penthouse after what happened this morning. You sigh heavily and sit up, pushing the covers off you and stretching. Your muscles feel sore but stretching eases them so you spend a few minutes doing this until you feel slightly better. You get out of bed and head to the bathroom to use it before you return to the bedroom to change out of your current clothes. You change into comfortable clothes yet they help you wake up and get into the errand mindset. You have some things you wish to do today, at least the high priority ones.

Feeling a bit more together, you head downstairs to get some water since you’re feeling thirsty but pause when you hear soft music. You frown slightly, wondering if you’re just imagining it since you’re certain that Miguel is at HQ but when you reach the bottom of the stairs and find yourself in the living room, you hear it clearly. Miguel’s record player that you gifted him for Christmas about a month ago is playing. You stand there for a few seconds, appreciating the music as it’s Billie Holiday’s “Blue Moon” - one of your favorite songs of hers.

“And then they suddenly appeared before me, the only one my arms will ever hold”

“You’re awake.”

You turn, surprised. “Miguel.”

“How are you feeling?” he asks as he walks further into the living room. His eyes scan your face subtly, searching for any sign of trouble or illness, however, his mind quickly returns to your words from this morning. Thinking about that leads him to remember his internal debate about opening more to physical touch and how he almost touched your cheek in your slumber, causing his cheeks to feel warm suddenly.

“Better. So much better,” you reply honestly, giving him a small smile. You don’t seem to remember what you said, at least not now. “My muscles feel a little sore but, I feel rested. Thank you for asking. For everything, truly,” you add sincerely, which triggers your memory suddenly. You freeze for a few seconds as you remember, feeling your cheeks turn hot with embarrassment, so you avert your gaze from Miguel’s. “I… I just remembered what I said this morning and,” you pause, scratching your neck gently, nervously. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable with what I said. The words were just - rolling off my mouth.”

Miguel stands about twelve feet away from you, noticing the way you avert your gaze from him, the way you nervously scratch your neck, and how embarrassed you seem suddenly. He feels ternura rush through him as he stares at you. It’s the opposite of what you think you’ve made him feel, so he steps closer, wanting to assure you.

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable, so please don’t stress about it. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about either. I understand you were exhausted, it’s only reasonable, and besides…” Miguel trails off, and now he’s the one scratching his neck nervously at what he’s going to say. He’s never actually talked about it, not even with Jess who seems to have been the one who told you about it some time ago - about him not being able to do physical touch. “You know the reason why I can’t but… I want you to know something.”

You turn to face him, your eyes meeting his. You both stare at each other with a soft, tender expression.

“I feel honored that you - you want to do that,” Miguel says quietly, holding your gaze. “That I’m somehow worthy of you wanting to - embrace.” Miguel pauses and looks away for a few seconds. “You know that I’m trying,” he continues, his eyes meeting yours again. He lifts his hand, his pinky finger being the only finger that’s straighten up. “I know it’s nothing compared to an actual embrace but I’m working on it.”

You nod gently, smiling warmly at him. This is the first time Miguel has ever brought up the pinky squeezes or physical touch for that matter. You’ve known for some time now that his pinky squeezes are intentional but hearing Miguel audibly admit that they are makes your heart flutter with happiness.

Miguel gives you a small smile, still holding his pinky finger up. He remembers this morning and how he was feeling - how he went upstairs, not knowing what he would’ve done if you had been awake.

You slowly lift your hand, your pinky finger out, returning the gesture from a far.

Miguel sees it, of course, and with his mind on this morning’s events, he steps closer before pausing. He stays still for a few seconds before he takes several more steps until he’s just about three feet away from you - your pinkies within reach now.

You watch him gently, with curious eyes. So far, Miguel has always found some kind of loop, an excuse to make the gesture seem unintentional. There’s always an object exchanged between the two of you that allows the pinky squeeze to happen, to make it seem like the gesture wasn’t planned.

Miguel looks down at your pinky and then his. Your hands are empty, and so are his. He has no way to excuse his gesture, and he’s not sure that he wants one anymore. He moves his hand closer, his pinky just inches from yours. He looks at you, his beautiful red eyes meeting yours and you see it clearly. A question. Is it okay?

You nod, still smiling softly at him but keeping your hand still. You know the significance of this moment, how big of a step this is for Miguel in his journey to move forward. You stand still, giving Miguel time to decide if he really wants to do this. You’ve never pushed his boundaries, and you have no intentions of doing that now, or ever. You’ll always be patient and respectful of him, no matter what.

Knowing this, Miguel slowly moves his pinky towards yours. He feels comfortable and unhurried as you stand there, letting him decide if he wants to proceed.

And he does.

Miguel’s pinky touches yours at last, making your fingers look like an “X” for a second before Miguel wraps his finger around yours gently.

You remain still, feeling Miguel’s warm finger wrap around yours. You can see the size difference - the way the tip of his finger is enough to wrap around yours. His finger feels soft and you feel a little overwhelmed with the fact that this is happening, that Miguel is really doing this. Just when you’re growing used to this feeling, you see and feel Miguel’s pinky give yours a gentle squeeze. You lift your gaze from your united pinkies to his face, finding him staring at your fingers, too. There’s a light blush grazing his cheeks and when his gaze meets yours, you can see vulnerability and yet, happiness, too.

Miguel holds your gaze, and smiles softly at you. He's done it. It's a small step but a big one regardless.

You don't squeeze his pinky back but slightly brush your finger against his, a sensation that Miguel finds comforting. You stay like this for a minute, or maybe two until your gizmo goes off. The sound startles the two of you but your pinkies remain locked with each other for a few more seconds before you feel Miguel’s pinky release yours gently, leading to both of you dropping your arms down at your sides. You both feel the loss of touch but of course, neither of you mention it.

“That’s probably your other friends. They were really worried about you when I told them what happened,” Miguel says gazing at you. “They sent you gifts - they’re in the kitchen, which reminds me, I have lunch ready if you’re hungry.”

Miguel gestures to the kitchen just as your hunger hits you. You grin sheepishly at him and nod. “I’m actually starving… Thank you, Miguel,” you tell him sincerely, feeling grateful not only for offering lunch but for everything else, especially what he opened himself to do just now. You offer him a smile, warm and sweet, as you think about this new step he has taken. You also hang on to the fact that he said your “other” friends, indirectly calling himself your friend.

“Always,” Miguel replies softly, his gaze still meeting yours as he’s overcome with a great happiness. He has been trying for months, ever since his near death experience back in the spring. He briefly realizes soon it’ll be a year since that happened, which is crazy to him - how fast the months have gone by. However, he’s relieved by the fact that he has stuck to his promise. He said he’d be trying, and he has. His steps may be small and slow, but they’re steps nonetheless, and they’re steps that he might have not taken if it wasn’t for you and that incident. “C’mon,” he says, gesturing for you to follow him. “I cooked something I think you’ll love.”

You follow Miguel to the kitchen, spotting bags on the counter. You figure those are the things that your friends sent, but decide to look at them later. For now, you take a seat as Miguel gestures for you to do so, and realize what he made.

“Flautas,” Miguel says as he carefully but quickly serves you a plate with flautas. The toppings are already set out since Miguel placed them right before he was about to go and check on you. After placing your plate down, Miguel retrieves glasses before he pours you a glass of agua de Jamaica, freshly made.

You watch in appreciation at how extra attentive Miguel is right now. He is always attentive but somehow, he’s even more so today. You thank him quietly and offer Miguel a smile, who is trying to make sure that you have everything you need.

“Always,” Miguel replies, taking notice of your smile. This morning you were giving him smiles and while they were warm and welcoming as always, he could see they were small and exhausted smiles. It was visible to Miguel that the fire took a toll on you, both physically and emotionally. Now, your smile is the same as always. It’s warm, welcoming, and bright. It’s lively, and the difference makes Miguel happy and relieved. He reciprocates with a soft smile, his gaze warm. “Do you feel rested?”

“I do, thank you. For the food and for- ,” you pause, smiling. “For everything.” You give Miguel a little nod, deciding to keep it simple and not go off like you did earlier. “I think I passed out as soon as I laid down,” you say, chuckling a little. “I don’t remember even falling asleep.”

Miguel grins softly, though his mind turns to this morning when he went into your bedroom. He feels embarrassed thinking about how he almost brushed his finger over your cheek as you slept peacefully. He clears his throat, trying to put that thought away. “I’m glad that you feel rested, and I’m not surprised you fell asleep so fast. You helped evacuate so many people, including that firefighter who was injured. It was a lot and you were - well, you were amazing,” Miguel says gently, remembering that you were a bit sensitive when he said that earlier. He doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable with his words but he also cannot seem to stop himself from telling you the truth.

You smile at him, your cheeks growing warm as Miguel tells you, once again, that you were amazing. You look away a bit shyly, something that Miguel notices. It’s not often that he sees you like this, and he can’t help but find it sweet.

“Thank you, that means a lot to me. I was just - really hoping no one was hurt. Thankfully there were no tenants injured, at least not seriously. Some of them had a few bruises from them rushing to get out, but there were no casualties.” You pause, thinking about your building. “My building… I hope it’s still standing, and hope it remains like that.”

“It’s still standing,” Miguel quickly says to reassure you. “I’ve been checking on it.”

You sigh in relief. “That’s good, that’s… I’m so relieved. I need to go and check on the area, see what’s happening. I think it was an electrical fire,” you say before you start adding toppings to your plate, and taking a gentle bite.

Miguel’s eyebrows shoot up as he hears this. He hasn’t thought about the cause of the fire, but now that you’ve mention your suspicion, he can’t help but think about the condition of your building. He recalls the time he fixed some things in your kitchen, asking you about those little details. Your building is on the older side, and now that you’ve mentioned it possibly being an electrical fire - it makes Miguel wonder if the building is even up to standards on the electrical aspect. The possibility that it’s not, worries Miguel.

“What did you notice?” he asks.

You wipe your mouth before telling Miguel about the notice your landlord gave out, and the young women you ran into on New Year’s Eve and their short conversation, to how the fire seems to have started on their floor.

“Of course, I’m not saying it was them but… It does lead me to believe that maybe because of the holidays there were other tenants who overloaded the circuits. I’m not really knowledgeable on this but you know,” you say softly and Miguel nods. “That’s why I think it was an electrical fire. I wonder how soon they can figure it out. I don’t think it was arson, but I guess I’m just being wishful.”

Miguel nods and considers your words. “Maybe it was an electrical fire.” He frowns softly to himself as he pours some agua de Jamaica for himself. “Perhaps they have an idea by now of what happened.”

“I hope so. I would like to know.”

“Well… how about we eat and then we can head over there?”

“I would appreciate it, but I don’t want to disrupt your day. You probably have so many things to do at HQ.”

Miguel takes a seat next you, placing his plate in front of him. “Don’t worry about it. Jess is there and so is Peter. If there’s an emergency, they’ll let me know. Everything else I can keep track of from here, and I’ve taken care of a lot of tasks already throughout the morning.”

“Are you sure?” you ask, looking at him, unsure. The last thing you want to do is disrupt his day when you know how important the fate of the multiverse is to him.

“Yes, I’m sure,” Miguel replies with a small grin.

The two of you eat and listen to music while Miguel tells you about your friends, and how worried they were about you. You smile all the while, feeling grateful for such amazing friends. After finishing eating, Miguel begins cleaning the kitchen, telling you not to worry about helping him even when you offer. So, you find yourself sitting at the kitchen counter with a piece of paper and a pen, jotting down everything you need to do while Miguel quietly cleans. You make a list quickly, mentally walking through your apartment and remembering what needs to be taken care of immediately.

Once you finish creating your list, you head upstairs and change into dark clothes because you remember that your suit is dirty from the morning and you have yet to wash it. To hide your face, you wear a hoodie. When you head back downstairs, Miguel looks at you with a bit of surprise before he remembers your suit.

“Your suit,” he says. “I forgot to tell you that we could put it to wash. It would’ve been ready by now if I had remembered.”

“It’s alright, please don’t worry about it. With so much happening, washing the suit was the last thing I was thinking about.”

“We can put it to wash right now while we’re out,” Miguel offers, and you decide to take him up on that offer.

After putting your clothes to wash, you meet Miguel in the living room. You find him inspecting something small in his hands, and upon hearing you join him, he turns fully to face you. He extends his arm out to you, offering a small device. You look at him and then back at the device with curiosity before you take the device from his hand.

“So you can have a digital suit on” Miguel explains. “It’s just a black and grey suit with a simple spider web design. I remember I had it from the early days just laying around in the office upstairs. That way your face can be covered just in case there’s civilians.”

Nodding, you inspect the small device before you smile at him. “Thank you, I really appreciate it. Definitely don’t want anyone to get any ideas about my identity.”

Miguel helps you set up the digital suit, telling you how to disengage it, which takes a few tries but eventually you get it. You can’t help but think of all the pros of having a digital suit as you look at your hands, reminding you of the time Miguel offered a new suit after he unintentionally ripped a bit from his accident several months ago. You grin at him once you disengage the mask.

“Very cool. I could get used to this, I think,” you tell him and he grins back.

“It’s nice having not to worry about washing a suit but there’s some cons,” he replies as he engages his, suddenly standing in his suit in the blink of an eye. He disengages the mask, still grinning at you. “Something could happen - a malfunction - and leave your identity exposed. I guess that’s really the big con. You could also accidentally break the chip, and well, you’re left with nothing, not even a malfunction to fix. It’s happened before,” he says with a frown, remembering the time it happened.

You chuckle softly at the way he frowns which makes him smile gently at you.

“You could also accidentally delete the file, or your AI assistant does it because she thinks it’s funny.”

“Lyla,” you say with an amused smile.

“Lyla,” Miguel repeats shaking his head. “I have these bags ready so we can transport things easier, at least when traveling the multiverse,” Miguel says showing you.

“Thank you, that’ll definitely make it easier to move some things around.”

“Great, you ready?”

Once you nod, Miguel opens a portal to your universe. The two of you step out onto a random rooftop before you make your way to your building. You look for a few minutes at the condition. It looks different in daylight and without the adrenaline pumping through your body. In daylight and with no smoke, you can see the true damage. You say nothing but both you and Miguel can see that reconstruction will take some time. At least two months or so, if you and the other tenants are lucky. The only thing that gives you hope is the fact that the building is stable, or it seems to be.

“It would’ve fallen by now if it was unstable, right?” you ask Miguel softly.

Sensing that you want some reassurance, Miguel gently nods, and thankfully he doesn’t have to lie. He’s sure that it would’ve already collapsed, or shown signs, if it was going to but your building stands firm. “I’m sure it would’ve. I also…” Miguel trails off as his eyes scan the sidewalk, looking for some kind of warning. “I don’t see any sign warning about it. And look, the street is functioning. Surely they would’ve blocked the entire thing. It seems to be stable.”

You nod as your own eyes sweep the area, finding no sign like Miguel said, which relieves you.

“Do you want to head inside?” Miguel asks, wondering if maybe you need more time.

“Yes.”

With that, the two of you sneak into the building. You walk down the hallway, finding doors opened like you left them earlier this morning when you were making sure that everyone was out. Miguel looks around, his nose immediately registering the smell of smoke even though this floor was spared from the fire. You push the door open to your apartment, finding it ajar, and enter with Miguel behind. You look around for a few seconds, the smell of smoke is definitely here even if it’s not as strong as it probably is on the floors below.

Miguel stands back, letting you assess the space. He knows how much this apartment means to you, and he can imagine what you must be feeling right now. He’s glad your floor is still standing at least, but this is still a sad situation he wishes you hadn’t experienced at all.

“Right,” you say with a sigh. You disengage your suit and pull out the list you created earlier from a pocket, engaging the suit again minus the mask. “The fridge and food are the first thing.”

“You tell me what you need me to do, and I’ll do it,” Miguel says behind you, not wanting to overstep.

“I’ll go through the fridge. Do you mind taking out the food from the cabinets there?” you ask politely, gesturing to some cabinets.

“Not at all. I’ll pack it up,” Miguel replies as the two of you head into the kitchen area of your apartment.

You begin working on the fridge, cleaning it out to avoid spoiled food, and packing away things like drinks and other items that should still be good. You eventually move to the top of the fridge where you store your cereal. It was where Peter always placed it, and you kept it there even after his passing.

Packing away some cans of food, Miguel looks up as you place a cereal box labeled Spider O’s into a bag, catching his attention. He didn’t know you had your own Spider-Woman cereal. He continues to work on clearing out your cabinets, deciding it’s a story for later.

With the two of you working together, it takes twenty minutes to clean the kitchen. Miguel takes care of your garbage while you move to other areas of your apartment, like your living room. You eventually move to your closet to pack more clothes and other necessities while Miguel takes what’s already packed to his dimension. As he leaves to take two bags, you remember you haven’t agreed to staying at his place beyond tonight, reminding you that you still need to discuss that. You let yourself think about it as you pack other items until Miguel returns. A few minutes later, you’re taking out clothes from the dryer when he arrives.

“Need help?”

“No, it’s alright. I got it. I was packing my detergents when I remembered I have clothes on both machines.”

Miguel nods as he hands you a laundry basket for the damp clothes. “We can put those to wash again, if you’d like. They might smell like smoke.”

”Yes, you’re right,” you reply as you start placing the clothes on the laundry basket.

Miguel picks up another bag, closing it carefully. “Are there other bags ready for me to take?”

You gesture to some bags that mostly contain your clothes. “Those right there. This is the last of everything, so I can take some of them, too.”

“I can carry them, don’t worry. If you want to look around and make sure you have everything, go ahead. Take your time,” Miguel says softly, wanting to emphasize that you don’t need to rush.

“Thank you. I’m doing a quick scan but - looking at my list, that should be it,” you say as you pull out your list once again. You check it, looking for anything you may have skipped but find nothing. “That’s it from my list, but I’ll do one more round just to make sure.”

With your laundry basket pressed against your hip, you walk around the apartment trying to see if there’s anything else that needs to be done. You’re certain you’ll be returning over the next few days just to check up on things - maybe even open the windows a little bit while you do patrols to let the smell of smoke out. At last, you feel satisfied and see nothing else to do or retrieve, at least not at this moment. You sigh softly, thinking. You want to go downstairs, to the floors that were directly affected, but you say nothing.

Miguel and you return to Nueva York, to his penthouse. When you step out onto Miguel’s living room, you spot the bags. They’re all neatly aligned against a wall, ready to be unpacked.

“I’ve put the bags with food at the kitchen. I went ahead and put what was refrigerated in the fridge, so you don’t have to worry about that. I figure the rest of the non-perishable food can be organized later.”

“That sounds great, thank you,” you reply giving Miguel a warm smile. “You’ve helped me so much. I really appreciate it.”

“Always,” Miguel replies with a soft smile before he glances at the bags. “We organize those when we’re back?” You stare at him with curiosity, so he continues. “You want to look at the building, right? I’d like to go with you, just to make sure you’re safe. There may be loose debris.”

“You know me too well,” you reply, which makes Miguel smile once again. “I do want to look. Maybe it’s silly of me but, I’d like to for some reason.”

“It’s not silly,” Miguel says as he engages his mask again. “I’d want to do the same thing, so I understand completely. Whenever you’re ready.”

“I’m ready.”

🕸️🕸️🕸️

Miguel and you step over debris once you find yourselves on the main floor where the fire started. As Miguel predicted, there are loose wooden boards hanging from the ceiling in some areas. There are holes in the floor and what is left standing is damaged. You warn Miguel to be careful as you head to the first apartment you were in earlier this morning. Looking around, there are signs that this apartment had it worse than other areas, leading you to believe that this is where the fire started for sure.

“This was the first apartment I came into. The apartment belongs to the young women.”

“It seems to be in the worst condition,” Miguel says as he inspects a wooden board.

“I was thinking that, too,” you reply as you move about, careful not to hurt yourself. You keep an eye on Miguel as well, especially knowing that he doesn’t have a spidey sense, so he doesn’t end up injured.

You check what’s left of a wall, not really having a purpose for being here other than seeing the damage up close for yourself. You inspect the wall before moving away, your eyes scanning what’s left of burnt items. Your gaze stops on exposed wires, catching your attention immediately. Upon closer inspection, without touching, you read the label on them. Something about the brand’s name reminds you of something, but you can’t pinpoint it in this moment.

“What did you find?” Miguel asks standing next to you now, finding you gazing closely at something.

“Some wires. I think this is what’s left of a string of lights. I was just thinking how the brand’s name sounds familiar but I can’t remember from where,” you say with a shrug.

Miguel takes a look at it. Something about it also strikes him but he, too, cannot pinpoint it.

“OBRN.”

“OBRN,” you repeat but shake your head. “I’m probably overthinking, but finding this and seeing the state of this one apartment does seem like the fire started here. I guess we’ll have to see.”

Miguel frowns at what’s left of the string of lights, wondering how the tag survived the fire but dropping the topic for your sake. Despite resting during the morning, Miguel is sure this is still exhausting, if not physically, at least mentally and emotionally.

“Yeah, I guess we’ll have to wait,” he replies as you turn away, quickly typing something onto his gizmo before he follows you.

You sigh softly and nod at Miguel. “This is definitely going to take some time,” you murmur more to yourself than Miguel, sadness and disbelief laced in your tone.

Miguel detects it and stands next to you, trying to provide some comfort with his presence. “It’s going to be okay,” he whispers. “The building will be fully functional in no time, I’m sure.”

Smiling once again, you nod at Miguel’s words. “Yes… You’re right. Everything will be okay,” you state, embracing those words.

The two of you stand there for a few minutes in silence. You decide it’s time to go as you feel a breeze hit your unmasked face, causing you to shiver and remember winter just started.

“Do you want to head back?” Miguel asks, noticing the breeze and the way you shivered.

“Yeah, I think it’s time. It’s getting colder,” you reply.

“It is,” Miguel answers as he opens a portal for the two of you, finding it safe to do so in this space.

The two of you head back to Nueva York, which makes you realize Miguel has traveled from your universe to his multiple times today just to help you. As you travel between universes, you tell yourself you’ll bake something for him in the next few days as a way to show your appreciation for all his help and support. Once in Nueva York, you put a load of clothes to wash since most of your clothes smell like smoke. You also put your suit and the other clothes you had on this morning to dry with Miguel’s gentle encouraging to make yourself at home and to feel comfortable using the penthouse however you need to.

Afterwards, Miguel helps you organize the food that was brought from your home, finding cabinets to store it at without messing his kitchen organization, something you were worried about. Of course, Miguel didn’t mind at all.

After a little break and showering again because of the smell of smoke, the two of you move upstairs to your bedroom for the evening. You’ve made your mind up but there’s some things you want to talk about with Miguel, points you hope to discuss later.

In the meantime, you and Miguel fix the bedroom. You set up your personal hygiene products on the dresser while Miguel safely unpacks your records and places them on the bookshelf. You proceed to place Peter’s record player on the desk for now and other items that belonged to him on the bookshelf.

As you do that, Miguel moves towards a box he remembers carrying here earlier in the morning. He doesn’t know what’s in it but he carefully picks it up and asks where he should place it.

“That’s Peter’s… belongings,” you reply softly as you stare at the box.

Miguel notices your lingering gaze, the way it softens. He gently offers it to you, figuring that you want to handle this box personally. You smile at him with respect and endearment, and surprisingly, shake your head.

“I trust you with it. I’m not opening it right now. I haven’t opened it in… some time, to be honest,” you reveal, holding one of Peter’s belongings. “I think it can go under the desk for now. Thank you, Miguel.”

He nods with a soft smile, feeling touched that you trust him with this box knowing how much Peter and his belongings mean to you. He proceeds to place the box under the desk, carefully, before moving on to something else.

At last, the two of you are done. You both sit on the bed and look around the room, seeing the progress. All throughout the process of fixing up the bedroom, you’ve been keeping track of the laundry, a chore you decide to tackle tomorrow when you realize it’s been a few hours since you and Miguel headed to your universe. There’s also the fact that you haven’t done a patrol at your universe, something that nags you.

Looking around the room, you notice how this feels like “your” room now. There’s Peter’s record player on the desk and your technology devices. Your personal hygiene products and other accessories are on the dresser. Some of your pictures are displayed on floating shelves, some of which include Miguel.

“Thank you for helping me set up,” you tell Miguel quietly.

He nods, looking at some of the photos. “Always,” he says turning his gaze towards you.

You grin at him before you check the time on your gizmo. “I’m going to - head out for a little bit. To patrol,” you explain. “I didn’t do my morning patrol, and it feels weird.”

“Understandably,” Miguel replies. “It’s just for today though. You’ll fall back into your routine, I’m sure of it.” Miguel turns to the window, noticing the sun has almost disappeared for the day before he returns his gaze to you. “I’ll be here if you need anything during your patrol. Take it easy, okay?”

“I will,” you reply with a small grin before you stand up. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

Miguel nods watching you leave the bedroom and sitting in the room for a little while, thinking about dinner.

You head to your universe and patrol, feeling some sense of normalcy as you do this. You fly around your city, making your usual stops and feeling more at ease. Your night patrol makes you feel better as you swing between buildings and cars below, even when you think about Peter and his words from the dream. You give a silent thank you to him, finding his words soothing. Fortunately, you find no trouble or emergency, so you decide to head back to Nueva York an hour later, knowing you’ll still be able to know if something does happen.

It’s then that you receive a notification from Miguel telling you that he’s buying dinner and that he’ll wait for you on a rooftop, which makes you wonder for a few seconds before he sends coordinates. You head to Nueva York, traveling directly to the rooftop Miguel told you, realizing it’s a round building. You step out and look around, finding no one. You walk to the edge of the rooftop, looking at the nearby buildings and streets below in hopes of spotting Miguel. It takes you a few seconds but you eventually sense his presence through your spidey senses, or at least you believe it’s him. As you look around, you finally spot his suit as he swings from building to building with one arm while he holds things in the other.

He reaches you in no time, landing gently on the rooftop. His mask disengages as he approaches you.

“How did it go?” he asks.

“It went well,” you reply. “No encounters. It was peaceful.”

“That’s good,” Miguel says as he hands you a to-go cup. “I’m glad you had no trouble, especially after today.”

You thank him for the drink and nod. For some reason, it feels like it’s been days since the fire, as if it wasn’t this morning when you woke up and realized your building was on fire. You sigh quietly, chalking it up to the fact that it has been a long day.

“I hope you don’t mind but I bought tacos. There’s this great place in downtown and they make the best. I would say they have the best ones in Nueva York, really, and I thought after everything that it’d be nice to just eat out. Gabriel also used to say there’s nothing like tacos to lift someone’s spirits,” Miguel says with a soft smile as he gestures for you to join him.

You smile back and follow him as he reaches the edge of the rooftop. He places the bags on the ground before he sits down, his legs danging off the building. You look around for a few seconds before you join him, the bags between the two of you now. You watch as he pulls out boxes from a bag before he spreads the empty bag on the floor, and then placing the boxes over it so the boxes don’t make contact with the ground.

“That’s agua de horchata. I was going to get you agua de Jamaica but - the place is known for their agua de horchata, so I figured why not,” Miguel explains as he hands you a straw.

You grin and accept the straw before you try the drink, and of course, it’s amazing. “I can see why. It’s so good!”

Smiling, Miguel hands you napkins. “I thought you’d like it. On the tacos, I order a few of each since I didn’t know what kind you wanted, and I didn’t want to distract you while you were patrolling, so I thought this was a good option.” Miguel puts his straw into his cup, thinking. He’s telling a half-truth. He could’ve sent you a quick message about your order but he truly didn’t want to disturb you. He knows today has been a long day, not only because of the fire itself but the aftermath, too, with packing and taking care of the little things like the fridge and the food. He hoped that nothing came up at your universe so you could have a moment of peace, at least. Thankfully, it seems that it went well since he can see that you’re in good spirits. The other reason why he didn’t reach out about the food is because he wanted to surprise you.

He got the idea after you left and he remained in the bedroom, thinking about dinner. Being in Gabriel’s old room, Miguel remembered what his brother used to say about tacos, about how they could cheer people up. It was always his way to cheer up Miguel when he was stressed out, even back when Miguel was in college. Gabriel always joked that it was his love language, which always made Miguel laugh. He never dared to disagreed with the younger O’Hara on that.

Miguel focuses on the now as the two of you set up the salsas and lime slices to use on your tacos. Once that’s settled, the eating begins. You grab from one kind and Miguel from another, discussing how amazing the tacos are. Miguel tells you to try a salsa, while you tell him to try another one.

Despite the cold weather, the two of you enjoy your food and conversation on the rooftop, eventually talking about other things like your friends. The conversation about them leads you to remember their messages, which you read earlier, and the gifts they sent. You remind yourself to check the gifts once Miguel and you return to his place. At some point the conversation shifts and Miguel is telling you more about Nueva York. He tells you about the buildings around you before he tells you about the stores that can be found in Nueva York’s downtown. He mentions the public libraries, parks, and the Lunar Train, thinking to himself that he hasn’t been to those places in years but that it’d be nice to visit again. He looks at you when he thinks about that - an idea forming in his head but one he doesn’t voice. Not yet, anyway.

After eating, you thank Miguel for the amazing tacos. He asks which ones were your favorites, just so he knows for future reference before you both fall into a comfortable and peaceful silence, drinking from your cups with agua de horchata. Your gazes take in the skyline of Nueva York at night, a sight you’re not used to but one that you love and appreciate when you have the opportunity to. You silently think about how beautiful Nueva York is before you look down, noticing you must be about fifty thousand feet in the air.

Miguel continues to observe the skyline before his eyes move higher up, finding a sky sprinkled with stars. He feels at ease, comfortable like he always does when you’re in his presence. He takes another drink from his cup, thinking. You’ve settled in and things have been taken care off at your apartment for the time being but there’s still something pending. Something neither of you have brought up. He holds on to his cup, still looking at the sky. Should he bring it up now? Should he wait?

Miguel doesn’t want you to feel like he’s pressuring you to stay, or for you to take him asking as a sign that he doesn’t want you to when in reality, it’s the opposite. He hopes you stay at his place so you’re not staying at a hotel with limitations. Plus, he doesn’t like the idea of you staying alone at a hotel, even if he knows that you can take care of yourself. He sighs quietly as he stares at the stars, silently debating. He feels some peace knowing you’ll at least stay at his place for tonight, maybe even the weekend, too.

You look up from the ground and stare at the sky, noticing twinkling stars. You enjoy the sight as you start thinking about how your friends offered a place for you to stay at, especially the Morales family. You’re grateful for your friends and their loved ones who were also worried about you but you politely declined. Everyone lives with someone already whether that’s with parents, spouses, or other friends, like Hobie, so you felt that it would be too much of an inconvenience. The gesture makes you incredibly grateful, however. You have loving and supportive friends.

“What are you thinking about?” Miguel asks softly.

You grin. “Honestly? About how everyone has offered me a place to stay in the meantime.” Your gaze drops to Nueva York’s skyline again, feeling Miguel’s eyes on you. “And how I’m so thankful I have all of you. It really means a lot to me. So much,” you say with a soft sigh. “Perhaps I was naive, but I never imagined this happening and - much less without Peter, you know? I’m just… I’m really happy - and so thankful - that I’m not alone,” you confess, turning to face Miguel at last.

Meeting your gaze, Miguel smiles gently, understanding what you mean. He’s glad that you’re not alone anymore, which is something that still bothers him. He hates thinking about how you spent so many years on your own. As time has gone by, Miguel has found himself wondering about those years. Did you ever get sick? Did you ever find yourself unwell because of your period like you did the first time he ever went to your apartment? There were other things he thought about, like the first year without Peter when you had already cut ties with friends. Who was there for you? Who looked after you? Who comforted you?

Miguel knows there was no one, and it bothers him deeply. So much, that he still wishes he would’ve found your universe sooner, even thought you told him a while ago that he found you at the “right” time. His uneasy thoughts about this are soothed by the fact that those days are over for you. You have friends - a little family - that loves and supports you.

And he, thankfully, is part of it.

“You’re not alone,” Miguel says, stating it as a fact. “You have so many people that love and support you. We’re all here for you - the way you’re always here for us.”

You smile brighter at that. “Thanks to the Spider Society,” you say softly. “You know - I can’t believe I declined Jess’s invitation at first.”

Miguel grins, chuckling quietly. “I think I remember you saying multiple times, too.”

“I did. And she came back and asked me again, until she finally convinced me by asking me what Peter would’ve thought.” Your smile softens at the thought of him, your sweet Peter. You turn to the sky, thinking that if it wasn’t for him, you wouldn’t be here now. Even in death, Peter has guided and supported you throughout the years.

You think about your dream from this morning, how he warned you about the fire. or at least, it seems so. A warmth spreads throughout your chest as you turn to Miguel. If it wasn’t for Peter, you wouldn’t be here now, next to one of your closest friends. You silently thank Peter.

As to Miguel, he gazes at you, noticing that soft look on your face as you think about the man he never had the opportunity to meet. Despite never meeting the man, Miguel also silently thanks Peter for being the reason you joined the Spider Society - for having you in his life now.

You sigh and smile at Miguel. “I want to negotiate some terms.”

Miguel’s eyebrows raise at this but he quickly realizes what you’re talking about. He gives you a small but playful smirk before he turns his body to you, pulling one of his legs inside and close to his body while leaving the other one still dangling off the rooftop. “Let’s hear these terms then.”

You mirror his position, leaving enough space between each other to place your drinks. “Okay, well first of all - you said not to worry about bills or rent, or even groceries.”

“That’s correct.”

“I realize I cannot help with bills or rent because of our different currency.”

“Yes, and there’s no way for us to convert it either,” Miguel replies all too happily about this.

You playfully glare at him, which only serves to amuse him more. “Yet. We should find a way to do that, to be honest but - as to right now, there’s no way. However, I can buy groceries.”

Miguel saves your idea about establishing a currency conversion system for the future. It might be something fun for the Spider Society. He briefly realizes that he’s into this idea, which makes him recognize that he has shut down other members’ ideas in the past. He wonders.

Is it that he has changed his mind because of the years and his progress in moving forward, or is it because it’s coming from you? He doesn’t have much time to think of it, and he decides maybe it’s for the better, at least for now, before he addresses your statement about buying groceries. “No, you don’t have to do that. I told you this morning that I’ll take care of that. The only thing, food wise, that you need to worry about is if it’s something that’s not available here. Everything else, I got it.”

“But Miguel -” you start, pausing and releasing a gentle but frustrated sigh. “I know I can’t help with bills and rent but please let me help with this. I know you’re being generous - supportive but I don’t want to just, you know. Stay there for however long this will take or however long it’s okay for me to stay-”

“I’m not kicking you out,” Miguel says, losing his smirk for a few seconds. Now he’s the one frustrated. “I wouldn’t be offering if I was planning on asking you to leave at some point. You can stay there for however you need, or want to,” Miguel explains.

“Thank you,” you reply softly. “But that means, it might be a little while, and you’re already being so kind by letting me stay with you. I can’t - just stay there and not contribute somehow.”

“You can, you just don’t want to,” Miguel says gently, earning himself a playful glare again. He grins. “Alright, what are suggesting then?”

“I want to help with groceries, and other ways. I know it’ll be tricky with the groceries, and I don’t have a good plan yet but I want to contribute,” you reply.

Miguel chuckles softly, finding it both endearing and amusing when you admit not having a plan yet, but still wanting to contribute. Understanding where you are coming from, Miguel nods at last. He knows you’re an independent woman in all aspects and you’ve probably become even more so since you’ve lost Peter. He understands that you feel the need to do something, to contribute. He realizes he’s been the same way for years - always trying to be independent. Miguel silently wonders if maybe, this temporary change will help the two of you relearn that some forms of dependency are not bad.

“I understand wanting to contribute somehow and I’ll respect it, even though I want you to know that I mean it when I say you don’t have to worry about these things… What I’m trying to say is that, you don’t need to worry about some kind of payment, Y/N. If it was me, you would be telling me the same thing. I know it,” Miguel replies. “I’ll be more than happy to cook for the two of us, but I also know that on some days you might want to eat something that I don’t know how to cook, so you can buy groceries if you wish but,” Miguel pauses and shrugs, grinning softly. “We could always plan meals. If you want to, of course. Or, have days where we cook something individually, which I’ll always make a plate for you just in case you want to try it. We can think of something, I’m sure of it. We’re not strangers, we’re…” Miguel trails off and nods at you. “You would do the same for me, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes,” you reply quickly, without hesitation.

“Then, you understand. I don’t want any kind of payment. I don’t want you to worry about bills or contributing somehow. I just want you to feel at home as much as possible. I know it’s not the same as your apartment, as your universe but that’s my hope. I understand you want to do something though, so I’ll respect it. We can think of something as the days go by if it makes you feel better,” he offers gently.

“I’d like that. I don’t want this to feel like…” you trail off. “I’m taking advantage of you.”

Miguel shakes his head and smiles, reassuringly. “You’re not. You could never. I’m the one offering, and I’m doing it willingly and happily. I just want to help as much as I can. The same way you would help me.”

You sigh softly and nod. “Alright.”

“So, do we have a deal? Are you open to staying in Nueva York for the meantime?”

You hold Miguel’s gaze and nod. “Yes.”

“Good,” Miguel answers happily, relieved.

“Thank you,” you add gently.

“Always.”

The two of you smile at each other for a few seconds before turning to look at Nueva York’s skyline once again in silence, enjoying the rest of your agua de horchata under a star sprinkled sky.

_________ Translations of Spanish words: Mierda - Shit Dios - God Ternura - endearment, tenderness Flautas - literally translates to "flute"; a deep fried tortilla with meat filling and topped with various toppings like cabbage, salsa, fresh cheese Agua de Jamaica - hibiscus tea Agua de Horchata - sweet Latin beverage, mainly made out of rice _________ A/N: Hi, guys!! First update of the year!! I hope January has treated all of you well! 🥰 I'm sorry for the delayed update. I got caught up with some things after the holidays, and then decided to take a little break from social media and writing, so that delayed the update a little bit. I'm so happy that I got the update out before the end of the month though! What do we think, though? WE'RE STAYING AT MIGUEL'S PLACE!! 🥺 And he's so sweet about making you (us) feel at home (not me fangirling about my own work but it's Miguel)!! I just - I love him!! And Miguel being opened to more physical contact? He's moving forward!! 🥹 I hope you guys enjoyed this part!! I also want to give @sunsetdoodler credit and a shoutout for the Spider O's cereal! She included it in this fanart many months ago and I loved it so much I wanted to include it at some point. It'll show up again in the future for sure! Thank you @sunsetdoodler !! Your support means so much to me!! ❤️ Also, shoutout to Ana, or @faretheeoscar who led me to give a bit of a sneak peek about something that will happen in the future thanks to her "Promise Me Miguel" AU based on a dream she had (I wish I could dream of Miguel and our Peter 😭)!! I also want to mention, once again, that there's so much fanart that has been created for this fic by incredible and talented artists!! Please go and check it out, and show some love to the artists!! ❤️ You can find all fanart here - under the "Nonviolent Communication" header! Thank you guys for reading and supporting this story!! It means so, SO MUCH to me!! I truly appreciate all the support - from the reblogs to the comments and likes; to the asks about songs some of you have connected to the story to little scenarios and your thoughts on the story!! I'm always surprised to see that you guys think of the story in your daily life - like, you guys actually think about it? It always makes my day!!! 😭

I'm truly so grateful for all the amazing support this story has received so far, and I hope you all enjoy the rest of it!! 🥺 Thank you guys!!! I hope the beginning of February treats you well!! ❤️ -Alondra

Taglist: @loverlorn @saturnknows @d1lf-loverrr @eddiestitmiguelsbigdick @freehentai @arithestrawberry @scaleniusrm @haradasaya @spidermanismyfav @bitchykittenconnoisseur @thecraziestcrayon @obi-mom-kenobi @natsury-kazuki @coraline750 @edgycatx @safixiovi @sunnyx07 @nxrdamp @rorel1a @oceanstar19 @happishark @carmilla01 @somebodyelsethanyouthink @adora-but-ginger @angie2274 @vampi-amora @tired-writer04 @plzfeedmebread @shadow-pancake9 @tynakub @faretheeoscar @giulscomix @luvstuffies @coffeeauthorvibing @lauraolar14 @bl0osclues @pinkiemme @lil-cinn @mashiromochi @loveletterfrommwah @muzansucker @theleftkittycollection @kikookii @www-interludeshadow-com @holographicang3l @aisyakirmann @bucky-to-my-barnes @geraskier-thots @l3laze @yujyujj @taylorsmakingfuckingmacandcheese @damhanallagorm @heyohalie @kaliuea @moonsua1 @darksidescorner@geminis93 @1800-get-alife @hrrtkreuz @oharasfilipinawife @dropyoursocksandgrabyourcrocss

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara imagine #atsv miguel #miguel o hara #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara scenarios #spiderman 2099 #atsv x reader #atsv x you #miguel spiderman #across the spiderver fanfiction #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara x you #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x y/n #spider man: across the spider verse #across the spider verse #miguel spiderverse #nonviolent communication #soft!Miguel O'Hara

[malarign]

crybaby

(when they find you crying)

contains: bf!hyungline x fem!reader | genre: angsty fluff | tw! crying obv, kissing, mention of food and eating, nightmare, mention of a breakup, lmk if i missed anything! | wc: 1,5k

reblogs are highly appreciated!

author’s note: please say hi to this product of me being unmotivated :)) big thank you to @kookthief and @simpforyongbokk for beta reading!

for maknae line version go here!

Lee Heeseung | 이희승

Heeseung stepped inside taking off his completely wet jacket. It had been raining the whole day and he wanted nothing more than your warmth and comfort, especially after you texted him how much you missed him. He thought he was hearing things but after listening more attentively he heard silent sobs coming from your bedroom.

He quickly took off his shoes and ran to the room where he found you curled up in your comfort blanket, hand covering your quivering lips. His heart broke at the sight and he kneeled down to softly caress your cheek with his thumb. You opened your eyes full of tears and looked at his soft but worried smile.

“My baby,” he whispered and you couldn’t help the tears from cascading down your cheeks. “Do you want me to comfort you or listen?” he asked, tilting his head, waiting patiently for your answer.

You tried to calm down your breath and finally whispered, voice cracking on the way. “Comfort, please.”

He quickly changed into a pair of sweats and a T-shirt to finally embrace you under the blanket. His fingers continuously stroke your back in comforting motion, while placing chaste pecks on your forehead. Seeing you cry was definitely high on the list of things he hated the most. He could feel tears form in his eyes but didn’t want you to focus on him right now so he just swallowed them and continued comforting you. You nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck, trying to suppress your cries, not wanting to stain his clothes with your tears mixed with mascara.

“Baby, if you need to cry more, then cry,” Heeseung spoke, noticing how you got so choked up on your tears. “I’m here for you.”

Hearing this, you allowed yourself to cry more, making it harder for him to keep his calm. It truly angered him that he couldn’t prevent you from being so upset, since you weren’t the type to cry often.

When you seemed to calm down a bit he cupped your face in his hands. “Let’s maybe take off that mascara, okay?”

Park Jongseong | 박종성

As Friday evening finally came, you waited patiently for your boyfriend to finally come back from work. Thankfully you didn’t have to wait long, as Jay arrived almost 20 minutes after clocking off.

“Hi baby!” you heard his voice followed by the sound of the front door closing behind him. You ran up to him excited to spend some time together after you barely had time to see each other this week. You wrapped your hands around him and gave him a bone-crushing hug. “Love, I missed you too, but you know, would be nice to breathe from time to time,” he chuckled at your antics.

Raising your head, your eyes met. You gave him a quick kiss and watched as his eyes turned into small crescents in a smile.

“What do you want to do?” you asked once he changed into comfortable clothes and plopped down on the couch next to you.

“Let’s maybe watch something? It’s been a while,” he suggested and you turned on your TV to find something.

“How about an animation?” you asked.

“Whatever suits you. I’ll prepare some popcorn,” he said and kissed your cheek.

Searching for something that would draw your attention you chose one title,only to find at the very end of it that it wasn’t very uplifting and happy. You could feel tears brimming in your eyes and you tried your best to hold them in, especially since you didn’t want to disturb Jay who was laying on your lap. But his eyes traveled up to your face once a single hot tear fell on his skin.

“Y/n?” he spoke to get your attention. But as soon as his voice hit your ears, your bottom lip quivered and you started crying. “Oh no, my love.” Raising from your lap he brought you closer to him.

You tried to word your emotions but everything that came from your mouth was completely incoherent.

Cupping your cheeks he somehow managed to understand and calm you down.

“How are you not crying?” you asked, wiping your tears.

“I’ve already seen it.” He shrugged.

“And you didn’t warn me about how soul-crushing and heart-breaking movie it was?” you sent him a glare and he smiled at your cuteness. Let’s say he had to cuddle you for a long time in compensation. Not that he complained though.

Sim Jaeyun | 심재윤

You watched from backstage how your boyfriend and the rest of his bandmates made a final bow, after the last concert. Deciding to surprise Jake, you spontaneously booked a flight to the city of their final concert. Your heart beat so fast at the anticipation of finally getting to feel his touch and see him, after a month or so of only face-timing each other. Hoping none of the members ruined your surprise by blurting your little secret out, you noticed some movement in the staff. They were getting their mics to clean them and put them away as they laughed loudly still in a daze from fan’s cheers.

Your eyes met Heeseung’s and he smiled upon seeing you. He motioned his head towards you to show Jake who was waiting for him. He turned around not realizing what he was going to see would make his day even better.

“Y/n?” he called your name and you beamed at the sound of his honey voice. Running up to you he picked you up and spun around. You giggled at him still having this much energy and buried your head in the crook of his neck, smelling the familiar scent of his perfume mixed with sweat. But that didn’t matter right now.

“I missed you so much,” he said as soon as he put you down, arms still around your waist. That’s when he noticed a few tears threatening to spill down your face but he quickly wiped them with his thumbs before they had a chance to. “Oh, baby.”

You hurled yourself into his arms earning a chuckle. “I missed you more,” you mumbled against the fabric of his clothes.

“That’s literally impossible,” he protested and pulled away to take a look at your state. Just like a spell, the sight of your slightly reddened eyes and rosy cheeks made his vision blurry too.

“Jake, no,” you said now he started crying too, making both of you sobbing messes.

“I hate seeing you crying, so what did you expect?” he chuckled sheepishly, and now you collected his tears with a tissue.

Park Sunghoon | 박성훈

Sunghoon woke up grumpily at the constant shifting and moving on your side of the bed. Frowning he turned to you and noticed how your breath was unsteady, your forehead wet from the sweat, and your eyes closed shut.

“Y/nie,” he slightly shook your arm, in order to wake you up. It wasn’t the first time you had a nightmare, but it never got so bad like right now.

“No,” you mumbled, still asleep. “No, don't leave me.”

“Y/n, wake up, love,” he spoke now louder, heartbreaking at your scared and upset state.

“Hoon, please don’t leave me.”

Those words were his final straw. He took hold of both of your shoulders and shook you quite strongly, but thankfully, successfully, your eyes opened wide and the first thing you saw was Sunghoon’s worried face from the dimmed lighting of the city lights outside. You quickly wrapped your arms around his neck and he just let you sob in his embrace.

“Shh, it’s okay. I’m here,” he tried to comfort you but this time it didn’t seem to work like usual.

“I love you so much, Sunghoon. I can’t imagine my life without you. You’re my best friend, my love, my home,” you quickly choked out in between your sobs.

“Hey, where is this coming from?” he asked confused, and tilted his head, looking for answers in your eyes.

“I know I’m not a particularly very affectionate person, and you deserve somebody who will show their feelings more clearly. I’m sorry that I didn’t express myself better, but please don’t break up with me,” you explained and started crying even louder.

“Is this what happened in your nightmare? Is this what Sunghoon from your dream did?” You nodded and he said: “Well, I’m not that asshole. I will never break up with you, and won’t let you break up with me either. You’re stuck with me, lovely.”

You chuckled at his words, feeling reassured and he brushed away your hair from your face.

“I don’t want you to feel pressured to be more expressive, because I want your love as it is. Your love isn’t loud, but I definitely feel it through your touch, your gestures, the time you give me,” he said and you nodded at his every word, eyes glued somewhere on his side. “Is there something interesting?” he turned around to look in the direction you were looking, earning a playful smack on his arm. Turning around to face you again he saw a shy smile and no more tears on your cheeks, meaning, he successfully fulfilled his boyfriend's duties.

thank you for reading! back to the masterlist

taglist: (open) @nicholasluvbot, @en-chantedtomeetyou, @skzenhalove, @nfrgirl, @kpoprhia, @redm4ri, @jaelaxies

#kflixnet #enhanet #enhypen #enhypen fic #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagine #enhypen headcanons #enhypen x reader #enhypen x y/n #enhypen x you #heeseung enhypen #heeseung headcanons #heeseung x reader #jay enhypen #jay headcanons #jongseong headcanons #jay x reader #jongseong x reader #enhypen jake #jake headcanons #jaeyun headcanons #jake x reader #jaeyun x reader #sunghoon enhypen #sunghoon headcanons #sunghoon x reader

[goldenbuckyyy]

YOU’RE ALL I WANT

Summary: You and Harry finally reconnect.

Pairings: Harry Styles x fem!Reader

Word Count: 5.7kish

Warnings: Over 3k of smut!! Oral (fem! & male!receiving), fingering, allure to squirting, raw sex, creampie, slight fem!reader!Dom/subrry vibes if you squint!! 🤏🏻

A/N: Hi!! Sorry this has taken so long! The holidays were very crazy and work has been… just as crazy as always! But she’s here and I hope you love her as much as I do.. because I love her!! I’m also going to be tagging anybody who mention needing part 2 since it’s been a while!! Also, this is probably the last part! Song title inspo: “You’re all I want” by Cigarettes After Sex

Divider is by @silkholland!! I love your divider so much! Thank you for allowing us to use them. 🫶🏻

All my mistakes are my own. Please do not repost or translate my fics on any other site nor this one.

I appreciate any likes, reblogs, messages, and interactions. Please message me your thoughts!!! It fuels me!

PART 1 || Main Masterlist

May 20th, 2022. 

You tapped your fingers on your countertop as you watched the time slowly trickle by. 

3:03PM. 

Watching how slow the time was going felt almost agonizing. 

You let out a groan as you felt as if time had never gone by any slower. You were still in your pajamas, sipping on your door dashed iced latte, stomach still full of your late morning breakfast, and you felt nervous. Nauseated, almost. 

So nervous about seeing Harry tonight that you almost wanted to throw up. And you knew you didn’t have to feel this nervous, but it’s been almost a year that you haven’t seen him. It’s normal to feel this way. You can’t help it. 

Harry’s album had already been out since midnight and you had to physically restrain yourself from listening to it. You wanted tonight to be the first night you listened to all of his new songs. 

Either way, you knew they were going to be amazing. 

You had also already chosen your outfit for the night. Which surprisingly had taken you so long to put together. 

Simply because you wanted to look your absolute best tonight. 

You searched throughout Twitter for concert inspiration and for any ideas that would help you. You knew fashion. You worked in fashion. You had your own famous fashion line and you still had no idea what to wear to this concert. 

You’ve been to plenty of his concerts before. You even remember the outfits you wore to one direction concerts and it secretly made you cringe. Flashbacks of textured shorts and frail crop tops fill your mind. 

But now.. now you wanted to surprise him and feel good. It’s been way too long since you had seen Harry's face and you missed him. 

So, you did what you do best and you made your own outfit. 

You ended up making a black jumpsuit with an amazing sequin fabric which covered every inch of it. It was long enough to pair with your favorite platform heeled boots that were comfy enough to be standing a long period of time in. You made the top of the jumpsuit have a cross neck fixture with a triangle opening right underneath your sternum and you made the back to match. 

Now, it was just time for the clock to strike five for you to start to get ready. 

So, here you are. Fiddling with your phone to try and pass the time faster. 

You hop off the stool and move to your private sunroom in your penthouse that overlooks the river. You bask in the sun on your skin and wonder how tonight will go. 

Hopefully everything goes well and Harry’s only expression when he sees you is happiness. 

You can only hope. 

You tug on your oversized silk blazer as you walk down the backstage hallway of MSG with Jeff by your side. 

“Harry might shit himself when he sees you,” Jeff says to you with wild eyes and a loud laugh as you try and match his fast pace down the hall. 

You let out your own nervous one as you fix your hair for the millionth time as you follow him. 

“Don’t worry. I just might, too.” 

You weren’t lying. You genuinely felt sick to your stomach. You had decided to wait until you knew that Harry would already be almost going on to text Jeff that you were waiting at the back entrance for him. Just so he wouldn’t be able to tell Harry you were here. 

“The concert already started, but don’t freak. It just started,” Jeff says casually as you start to see the flashing lights from behind the curtain. 

You still for a second right before you pass the curtain to let out a shaky breath. Reminding yourself to calm down. That it’s only Harry. 

Jeff’s hands are suddenly touching your shoulders and he’s giving you a reassuring smile. 

“Don’t be nervous. He’s going to be happy to see you. Trust me.” 

You nod quickly and your senses are suddenly filled with loud screams. Thousands and thousands of people screaming for Harry. For your Harry and it makes your heart warm. 

You follow Jeff to the side of the main stage behind a barricade, but in perfect view of Harry. And your eyes start to water as soon as you see him. 

He’s wearing an adorable white shirt that’s lined with red hearts, black leather figure hugging pants, red sneakers, and a big chunky yellow necklace. 

You cover your mouth to hold in your own cry, quickly shaking off the nerves as you settle into the spot next to Jeff, and you zone out as you admire Harry in his zone. 

The way the music completely takes over his body and his actions. The way you can tell he lets the music get into his bones by the way he lets it take over and how he dances. The way he lets himself be free in a room filled with people that love him. People that you know he loves. His fans. His wonderful, amazing, love filled fans. 

The way he smiles, laughs, and giggles so hard his dimples end up showing. And how he looks so freaking happy it makes you want to burst into tears. 

You can easily tell this is his favorite thing to do. Just by looking at him. He’s the type of person that you can just watch and admire because everything he does leaves you in awe. 

And that’s exactly how you feel. 

Then, at the right moment when he’s prancing around the stage, and running on your side of the stage.. he glances down to look at Jeff and then he sees you. 

You both lock eyes at the same time and he trips on his own feet, halting in front of you, and the screaming only intensifies when he breaks out into the biggest smile you’ve seen on him all night. 

His hands immediately go to his heart and you see his eyes water as you smile back at him with matching watery eyes. He reaches for you with a small “Hi” leaving his lips and you mouth it back. You can tell he wants to say something else, but he quickly shakes his head with a grin and goes back to dancing around the stage. 

You can hear fans calling out your name from around you as now they’ve noticed you. You look around, giving a small wave at the fans near you, and they shriek when you look at them. 

You blush under their gazes as it never gets any less weird for you that people actually know who you are. But feeling grateful nonetheless. 

Harry makes his way to your corner of the stage after he sings probably the saddest song you’ve ever heard and smiles at you as he settles himself with the microphone stand. 

“Now this next song… this next song is incredibly special to me. One of my favorites actually. And…” he pauses and takes in a shaky breath. “The person who inspired this song is actually here tonight.” 

The crowd goes wild. Loud cheers surrounding your entire body. You feel lightheaded as you watch Harry on stage. 

Watching you. 

He gives you a small smile and continues, “This person.. has been my best friend for almost a decade now. We actually met at a Halloween party many many years ago. Her best friend is actually the person I spilled my beer on,” you both chuckle at his words, “I’m getting off track here. But I just want to say that this person is the one person that I absolutely adore. I adore her, I admire her, I respect her, I recognize her, and I love her.” His voice cracks at the last couple of words, his bottom lip quivering and his chin caving in, and tears pool his eyes. 

Your eyes are filled with tears at hearing his speech to you and knowing that this is showing his vulnerable side. Which he has always struggled with. You clamp your hands together against your chin as you only smile up at him. 

“This is ‘Little Freak’,” he says into the mic as the band starts playing a soft melody. 

The first lyrics remind me of the incident in Italy last year and your heart silently hurts. You grip onto the railing in front of you as you listen closely to each lyric. 

Finding yourself relating to each word and wanting to pull Harry into your embrace.

Did you dress up for Halloween? I spilled beer on your friend.. I’m not sorry. 

You chuckle as you sniffle while slow tears fall down your cheeks and you quickly wipe them away. You watch him in awe as you hear everybody singing along to the lyrics. To a song that came out less than twenty four hours ago. 

I disrespected you

Jumped in feet first, and I landed too hard

A broken ankle, karma rules

You never saw my birthmark

Okay. Maybe this is the saddest song you’ve ever heard. Harry holds out the microphone to his fans and gets overwhelmed when they’re singing back his lyrics so loudly. You laugh with joy at how happy he is. 

“Thank you so much,” he says into the microphone with his voice wavering, but sounding so grateful. 

Just thinkin' about you

He finishes singing the last lyric and he looks over at you with a smile. You smile back with a thumbs up and his dimples show. 

The rest of the concert goes by so quickly you can’t even believe it’s been almost two hours since he started. 

Every single one of his songs feels connected to you in some way and you wonder if you were in Harry’s thoughts when he wrote this album. You know ‘Little Freak’ is about you since he practically dedicated it to you before he sang it.. but you wonder about the rest. 

A part of you doesn’t want to know. 

Jeff is by your side as soon as Harry runs off the stage after doing his famous ‘Whale’ and glancing at you quickly. 

Jeff wraps his arm around your shoulder, with a smile, he asks, “What’d you think?” 

“He’s incredible.”

“That’s our boy.”

You hum in agreement and you both walk off backstage to the chaos that is the loud voices of people congratulating the band and Harry on a brilliant performance. 

You stand in the background, watching Harry take each compliment with grace, a shake of each person's hand, and a dimpled smile on his face. 

You watch him carefully, bouncing on your heeled boots, heart racing, fingers aching to feel Harry’s skin, and your body trying not to reach for him. 

You smile softly when you notice his eyes searching the room and then they land on you. His expression changes to a mix of glowing happiness and absolute joy. He looks like a little kid that just got offered a lollipop at the dentist. 

He politely excuses himself from the group he had just thanked and hastily makes his way towards you. 

You open your arms to him on instinct, “Hi.” 

His arms engulf you into his space, completely tucking you into his body, and you feel complete. His hands wrap around your torso, underneath your blazer, touching your skin, and your arms wrap around his neck. Your faces squeezing into each other’s necks and he whispers a breathy, “Hi.” 

You melt into his embrace, smelling his cinnamon roll hair styling crème that he still uses, and it brings back a decade of memories for you. His strong arms squeeze you as he lifts you up off your toes and you can hear him inhaling your scent. 

“God, I’ve missed you.” 

You chuckle into his neck, “Me more.” 

You both pull away at the same time, staring at each other, and you place your hand on his cheek. He leans into it with a small smile, beautiful glossy green eyes staring into yours, and you thumb his cheek. 

“I’m sorry, H.” You confess with a soft tone, trying to hold your voice steady while your heart races inside of your chest. 

“Don’t apologize. I’m the one that messed up, but.. c’mon.” He wraps his hand in yours, giving Jeff a small signal, and he starts to walk off towards his dressing room. 

He leads you into the big dim-lighted room, shutting the door behind you, and locking it for privacy. 

You stay in front of him, glancing at him and trying to see if you notice anything different about it. 

But he’s still the same Harry. Right in front of you. Finally. 

He pulls two cold waters from the mini fridge and hands one to you as he leads you both to the couch. You get comfortable as he kicks off his shoes, leaning into the green couch, and planting his feet on top of the coffee table. You sit back and admire him for a second before drinking some water.

After a moment of silence, he asks, “How have you been?”

“I’ve been good. Missed you tho.” 

He smiles as he tucks his chin into his chest, arms crossing over his chest, “I did, too. More than you can imagine.” 

“Yeah?” You question, playing with the rings on your fingers, and you look at him from underneath your lashes. 

“Come here,” he says as he reaches for your hand. Your insides turn and you let him pull you into his lap. Your breathing hitches as he stares at your face, taking you in, and then his eyes land on your lips. 

“Of course I’ve missed you. You’re my best friend,” he whispers into you as he slowly leans in and you close your eyes, waiting for his lips to touch yours. 

“Do you still want me?” You blurt out bluntly, your eyes going wide, and you suddenly feel weak. You feel vulnerable. Insecure. 

Harry tenses in front of you, his eyes going wide, and he searches for words. But nothing comes out. His eyebrows furr in confusion, “What? How-I… Are you serious? I was about to kiss you..” 

You look down, ashamed at your question, and you feel him pull your face back up to meet his own eyes with his thumb. 

“How could you ever think I wouldn’t want you?” 

His eyes are sincere and full of concern. His body leans into yours, his arms that are holding you only grow tighter, and you wrap your arms around his neck limply. 

You lean into his touch and try to smile. Your lips wavering when you say, “I.. I ignored you for months.” 

“You had your reasons. I was awful to you. I said mean words to you that I should have taken back as soon as I had spoken them. You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

His thumb caresses your cheek as you nod at him. 

“I’m still sorry,” you say again as you kiss the inside of his palm. 

“I have always wanted you.”

“What?” You say with a grin as he matches your own.

“I, Harry Styles, have always wanted you, Y/N L/N. Ever since the first moment I saw you. You are the most beautiful thing I have ever laid my eyes on and you continue being so.” 

You let out a watery laugh as tears prick your eyes, you swat his chest playfully, “Stop! You’re making me cry!” You both laugh together as he places a big smooch on your cheek. 

You giggle as he slowly starts to kiss your cheek and makes his way down to your lips. 

His hands are holding your face when he leans back and asks you, “Can I kiss you?” 

Before you can even finish nodding, his lips are on yours. 

His lips feel soft and warm against yours. You both held your breath as he waited for you to respond to his kiss, his lips on yours, but full of hesitation. 

You relax into his hands, letting yourself finally kiss him back, and a feeling of euphoria fills your body. You both moan into the kiss, tilting your heads for better access, and you pull at each other to feel closer together. He slides off your blazer and touches your naked arms, moaning at feeling your skin against his own. 

Your tongue fights with Harry’s and you suck on his bottom lip with a moan. Your hands moving from the back of his warm neck to his curly hair, tugging at the roots, and filling with content when he groans into your mouth. 

Harry lets go of your face and he’s moving your body over his own, adjusting himself onto the couch, and you plant yourself down on his hips. Feeling his hardening bulge against your core makes you feel hot. Your core aching in want and you grind against him. 

You both meet again in the middle and kiss, lips lapping against each other, open mouthed moans, and pants filling the room. Slow hips grinding against each other. 

In the rush of probably the hottest way you’ve ever kissed someone, he’s suddenly pulling away from your body completely. 

Leaving your body aching for his touch and your skin feeling burned as his hands leave your waist. 

You’re suddenly filled with confusion, furring your eyebrows, and peering up at H. 

“What’s going on? Why’d you stop?” You pant out as you try to catch your breath. 

H looks like he’s torn between a million emotions as he clutches his eyes in distress, a heavy breathe escaping his lips, and he’s shaking his head. Then.. he chuckles. 

“I can’t believe I’m saying this..” 

Your heart stops. 

“But.. I don’t want our first time to be like this.” 

Oh. 

“Oh?” You question with a small smile as you sit up on his lap, adjusting your jumpsuit straps around your neck, and he’s leaning against the back of the couch… looking so adorable. 

He looks almost shy right now and he blushes under your gaze. 

“Yeah,” he says as he reaches for your hand and you let him. “I want our first time to be special. I want it to be in my bed or yours. And I want it…I just.. I don’t want to fuck you in this dressing room. I mean—“ 

You cut him off as your cheeks flush down to your neck at his words, “I have an apartment here.” 

His eyebrows spike up in shock as he looks simultaneously confused, shocked, and you can tell he’s hurt that he doesn’t know about this major change in your life. You reach for his hand and squeeze it when he immediately grips onto yours. Trying to reassure him with your touch. 

“Since when?” 

“Fairly recent,” you say with a small smile playing on your sinful lips. 

“Where?” 

“The Copper,” you say with a glint of enthusiasm and he only matches you. Like always. 

“You got an apartment there?” His eyes glint with a look of pride. 

“I got the penthouse.” 

The second that you both walk into your penthouse, Harry’s mouth and hands are on you. And you’re not complaining. 

You throw off your blazer at the same time he kicks off his shoes. 

His hands are all over the parts of your skin that isn’t covered and he stops when he finds the clasp around your neck. He swiftly unhooks your jumpsuit and you feel it fall over your shoulders and down your chest. Your breasts are now exposed and you feet the cold air brush against your nipples. Perking them up and making you gasp in pleasure. 

He tugs on your jumpsuit which makes it pull around your waist and his hands move onto your breasts. He moans into your mouth when he feels them naked since you’re not wearing a bra or pasties. He thumbs your nipples and you whimper into him, licking the roof of his mouth, and sliding your hands underneath his shirt. 

He manages to shove you against your couch and you both tumble on it, giggling into the kiss, and his hands are around your body to make sure you don’t hurt yourself. 

You giggle as he kisses you, which only makes him giggle with you, and then you’re laying down on your couch. You pull away from him when you feel him get on his knees in front of you. 

He slowly slides his hands underneath your jumpsuit, unzipping your boots, and tossing them to the floor. His eyes are only on you. 

You watch him with want as he slips off his shirt, tossing it to the side, and you shimmy out of your jumpsuit. Tugging off your black thong with it. 

Harry's lips are on yours again and he’s hungry. Kissing you deeply, his tongue fighting for dominance with your own, both moaning and panting, aching for each other, and he’s reaching down to unzip his pants. 

Harry’s hands suddenly are off of your hips and his lips leave your own. You whine as you feel him pull away from you and you quickly open your eyes to watch him as he’s watching you, now sitting on his knees on the couch, and his eyes never leave yours. 

He slowly lets his eyes wander down your naked body, fully taking in that this is the first time he’s ever seen you naked, and it makes you ache in ways you’ve never ached before. Makes your skin break out into goosebumps at the mere sight of him taking you in. 

He stands up, shoving off his leather pants and his red briefs, and his long, thick dick makes an appearance. Your eyes go wide as you look at him, the first time truly looking at his dick, and your pussy only clenches with desire at the same time your mouth waters with want. 

His dick is beautiful. Long, thick, and looking juicy. And waiting to fuck you up. His tip is leaking pre-cum already and it bounces with every movement he makes. He moves back to where he was sitting on his knees on the couch, admiring you as you admire him. 

“Fuck,” he mutters out as he wipes his face with his hands before he sets them down on your ankles. 

“What is it?” You whisper as you move your legs to open up in front of him, feeling your wetness coat your inner thighs, and he bites his bottom lip. His dick twitching in all its hardened glory. He’s almost fully leaking from the tip of his dick. 

“You… are beautiful. Breathtaking.. and this is the first time I see you naked. I just wanna admire you,” he says as he pulls your ankle to his shoulder and kisses your shin. You smile as you let yourself spread out more for him as he starts kissing up your legs slowly and sinfully. 

Your breathing hitches as he gets closer to your center, you're already antsy when he stops in your inner thigh, kissing both of them, licking them, and sucking small love bites onto them. 

You massage your breasts as you lean your head down to get a better look at him. 

“You’re glistening,” he mutters against your thigh, kissing right next to your aching pussy. You can help but moan out in want and anticipation. Your hips are getting a mind of their own as you try to hitch them towards his mouth and his eyes move towards yours. 

“So inpatient,” he says as his cold fingers are suddenly touching your wet lips, pulling them open, and he spreads you to his liking. 

“Oh my god,” you moan out at the sensation that overcomes your entire body at Harry finally touching you. 

He moves himself in between your legs, pushing your thighs down on each side, and he lets his tongue slowly lick your pussy. You clench around him, you can’t fully believe that this is happening right now, and you twist your nipples in between your fingers. You tilt your head back in a pant when Harry slips two fingers inside of you. 

“Fuck,” he groans out as he curves his fingers inside of you and your pussy only tightens around them. Your breathing has picked up and you can hear how absolutely drenched you are by the sound his fingers are making as he moves them in and out of your pussy. 

Harry seems to only fuel himself more with your moans and panting because you feel him start to devour you. You gasp when you feel his tongue lick you from the bottom of your folds all the way to your clit where he swivels his tongue around it and sucks it into his mouth gently. The bundle of nerves makes the pit of your belly harden in pleasure, your back curving upwards, and your hands move into his curls to hold onto something. Anything. 

You moan out his name when his fingers start thrusting inside of you, in and out. In and out. And then he picks up his pace, slightly, but making a big difference in how it fuels your impending orgasm. 

His fingers continue to fuck you, his mouth devouring you, and his tongue is torturing you. In every possible way. You know this is going to be the best sex of your life. You know you’ll never be able to move on from this. You hope Harry will feel the same way, too. 

His mouth moves skillfully against your pussy, his tongue flicking your clit in all the best ways, and you can feel the pressure slowly building up in your lower stomach. 

Harry sucks onto your clit, making your legs start to shake slightly, and he inserts a third finger into you. You cry out in pleasure, your body feeling like it’s on fire, your skin is glistening with sweat, and you start to move your hips to match the pace of his mouth. 

He doesn’t stop his movements. He only keeps going. His fingers fucking you like heaven, his moans sending shockwaves through your body, and then.. he moves his tongue into the right spot on your clit which makes you absolutely explode from underneath him. 

You yell out his name, so loud that if you actually had neighbors on this floor, you’d be scared they’d come banging on your door for being so damn loud, and your eyes prick with tears from the amazing orgasm that overtakes you. 

Your toes curl into the couch, fingers gripping onto his curls, entire body clenching and then releasing as you feel yourself soaking Harry's mouth and fingers, and he’s lapping up every single drop of your release. Moaning as you can see his thighs grinding into the couch. 

You don’t even let your body come down from the high when you’re hastily moving from being underneath Harry to being on top of him, straddling him, and kissing him hard. Sucking his lips into yours and moaning when you can taste yourself on his tongue. 

You kiss him for a couple seconds before you move down his stomach, licking his butterfly tattoo, sucking a couple love bites on his abs, and letting yourself make eye contact with him the entire time. 

His pupils are blown out, lips plump and swollen, cheeks flushed bright pink, and he looks fucked. 

“Fuck,” he pants out, his voice raspy and blissed out. And he can’t even react before you’re taking in his aching dick into your mouth. Fully deep-throating him that the tip is curving into the back of your throat. Your eyes water as you keep eye contact with him, your hands holding yourself steady against his fern tattoos, and his hands grip into your loose hair. 

“Holy shit! You’re fucking-I-you’re fucking taking me all the way, baby!” 

You preen at his words, bobbing your head on his dick, pulling up slowly to let your tongue lap over his tip, sucking off the pre-cum into your mouth, and moaning so that he feels every vibration in your throat on his dick. You can feel his dick twitching in pleasure inside of your mouth and it only fuels you to be better. You pick up your pace, nails digging into his hips, lapping him up, and everytime you go all the way down, you let your tongue lick his balls too. 

Harry suddenly pulls your face off his dick and you whimper at the disconnection. You look at him with big, blown out pupils, and a stream of saliva connecting your lips with his dick. 

He groans as his hands move down to your breasts, pinching your nipples, and then he thumbs your swollen lower lip to wipe off the mess. 

“‘M gonna cum if you keep suckin’ me off like that, honey.” His voice is breathless as he cups your face, pulling you up easily, and connecting your lips with his. Your wet core lands on his fat, aching dick, and you already need him inside of you. 

You’re aching for him.

You kiss each other roughly, hands all over each other, and you start hitching your hips higher trying to align yourself with his dick. You can feel his dick fluttering in between your folds, wetting him up even more, and then you feel your opening align with his dick. You shift your hips a little bit more and you feel the head of his dick right where you want him. 

You lower down onto his pulsating dick and he groans into your mouth. His hands immediately find your hips, holding you steady as you try to lower yourself more, only being halfway. 

“God, you’re so fuckin’ tight right now. So fucking tight, give me a second..” He moans even louder as he allows you to lower yourself even more until your pelvis meets his own. You steady yourself on his chest, tightening your arms against your breast, and smiling wickedly at Harry’s expression which only shows pleasure. 

You slowly start to move against his hips, slowly bouncing on his dick as his tight grip on your hips help you move, and you can feel how desperate he is for you. How much he’s wanted this. How much you’ve been wanting this. 

He slowly starts moving his hips underneath you, quickly changing the pace from slow and sultry to fast and rough. The sound of slapping skin fills the entire penthouse, your moans mixing with his own, and your hands are touching him everywhere. 

“You feel so good,” you whimper out to him as you lick the curves of his neck as he pulls you into his chest as he hitches his hips to fuck into you like this. 

“You were made for me,” he whimpers back as his arms wrap around your waist. 

His thrust only increases in speed in this position. His dick filling you up completely, like nobody ever has, touching every inch of your walls, and your wetness only allows him to fuck into you faster. 

You feel the familiar feeling building up in your belly, you lick and suck his earlobe, “I’m so close.” 

He quickly turns you over, so that your body is laying on the couch now, his dick never exiting you, and now he hitches your legs to wrap around his waist. He presses down against our belly and it only fuels your climax. 

“Oh my fuckin’—” you cry out as you feel Harry fucking you hard and him pushing against your cervix seems to increase the sensations. 

“Feel me up here, huh?” He groans out as he continues to push into you at a rough speed which you can only nod, feeling absolutely fucked, and he moves his free hand to your clit. Moving his thumb in circles roughly against it which triggers your orgasm. 

You clench around his dick, crying out loud, your entire body breaking out into goosebumps, and instant satisfaction floods you. You tighten your legs around Harry, pulling him into you, waiting for him to cum too, and he’s looking like a fucking god above you. 

His curls falling around his face, sweat glistening his toned body and his forehead, fucked out, bright flushed pink cheeks, and you don’t know what comes over you… 

You reach forward as he fucks you and you place your hand aound his neck, holding the sides, avoiding the center, and his eyes go wide. 

His eyes instantly meet yours and his lips part in shock. And you keep moving your body against his, letting him use you completely, and then.. you squeeze around his neck. 

His eyes roll back into his head, biting his bottom lip, fucking you rough and hard, and you know he’s about to cum. You squeeze his throat harder and your free hand reaches underneath his neck to tug his curls. 

He lets out the loudest, gut-wrenching moan of the night, and his thrusts start turning animalistic, when he yells out, “Fuckkk!!” 

He continues to thrust into you as he reaches his peak, filling you up completely, and you both are a panting mess as you both start coming down from your orgasms. 

Harry flops onto your chest, but holding himself up with his forearms on your sides. You giggle as you can still feel his dick inside of you, but you wrap your arms around his neck. 

He lifts his head, panting, and eyes glistening. He smiles at you, bunny teeth showing, and dimples carving his cheeks. 

“That was…” he stops as if he can’t even find the words, but who are you kidding? You can’t either. 

“It was,” you agree as you kiss his forehead. 

“That was very much long overdue,” he states with a teasing grin and you playfully pinch his forearm. He laughs into your neck before giving you a soft kiss. 

“How long are you here for?” You ask, not really wanting to ask, but you know you should. 

“I’m here as long as you are.”

You furr your eyebrows in confusion, lips parting with a question, and he shushes you. 

“I’m not letting you leave my sight ever again.”

He places a million kisses over your face, you swat him away with giggles, and then hold his face in your hands. Eyes locking. 

“Does this mean we’re boyfriend and girlfriend?” You tease.

“Shit, I’d marry you tomorrow if you’d let me.” 

Your eyes glint with amusement and so do his. 

“Who says I wouldn’t?” You whisper at him, playing with his curls in your fingers. And he attacks you with another million kisses. 

You could get used to this. 

And you think you just might. 

“So, where’s that secret birthmark of yours?” 

-

@that-daydream-look @harrysfolklore @b-reads-things @tbslnightly @noseyrosey1597 @alwayslovingharry @alreadyjackbestfriend @cevansssss @1cedteaa @feestyles @you-sunshine @awesomebooklover17 @aruima

#harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles smut #harry styles x y/n smut #harry styles x famous!reader #Harry styles x fashion designer!Y/N #harry styles writing #harry styles au #harry styles #harry styles angst #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic

[dear-satan]

league of legends

Leon S. Kennedy x fem!Reader

summary: You found a „cool” computer game for Leon and now you kneel under the table sucking his cock when he talks to his friends in the game

warning: +18 only, oral (male receiving), league of legends player

Each of us needed something to kill time, to occupy our own thoughts. Especially Leon. After his missions he was quite often absent. His thoughts still revolved around all those events he preferred not to tell you about, so that you wouldn't worry too much. Therefore, as a good girl, you tried to find something for him. Some kind of activity that would allow him to switch off his mind at least for a while and somehow relax him.... And we're not talking about sex, because you practically couldn't get out of your bedroom, and you had to function somehow and do your daily chores eventually. Therefore, you created - in your opinion - a long list of activities that could interest Leon.... But as it turned out, it wasn't all that easy.

At the very beginning you tried to convince him to read.... As it turned out, your beloved scolded this idea with the argument that this activity reminded him too much of the paperwork he did after completing each mission.

Failure number one.

Another idea was to unleash the artist in him. You bought a set of crayons and paints and arranged them in front of him along with a blank sheet of paper. At first Leon looked at you with raised eyebrows but took a crayon in pink and started scribbling something. You already thought you had hit the nail on the head, but when you saw the pink stick it immediately all your joy evaporated.... In addition, he signed this stick with your name, sending you only a sly smile....

Failure number two.

And then it only got worse....

Morning physical activity? He has workouts at work, after all.

Baking or cooking? At his first and last attempt, you had to buy a new mixer and a set of plates.

Handwork? He gave up when he couldn't thread the needle.

Crossword puzzles? And what is he, an old grandfather with dementia?

The last thing on your list was computer games....

You searched the Internet for interesting titles and so it worked out that you decided on a game called League of Legends. It looked really nice, had a lot of characters and was quite popular. Installing it took you a few seconds while sitting Leon in front of the computer and persuading him to create an account.... Well, it took a little longer. But it worked. He played the first game, then the second and third. You watched with a smile as he controlled some archer and killed little red creatures.... However, you didn't anticipate one thing.

The game became a literal time-waster, making you feel a bit neglected. Leon was really spending a lot of time in front of the computer which slowly started to bother you.... And your poor pussy was crying because of the lack of attention. Whenever you would come up to him and ask when he would finish having a craving for a bit of intimacy he would reply "five more minutes, I promise" and then he would come to you when you were sleeping deliciously. This was also the case this time.

"Baby please," you moaned as sweetly as you could, kissing his cheek. Your hands wandered under his navy blue shirt wanting to get his mind working at least a little. "Can't you pause it?" you tightened your thighs. You had been walking around with a wet pussy since morning and had given many signals for him to fuck you, but nothing worked.

"I can't doll. Soon, I'll finish and come to you, okay?" he only threw you a quick glance and a slight smile as his fingers moved across the glowing keyboard. Not after you.

"No, not okay." you puffed out your cheeks and crossed your arms over your chest "Since when is a stupid game more important than me?"

Leon only opened his mouth wanting to say something which ultimately only ended with a shake of his head. You heard some voices in his headphones at which you just rolled your eyes, feeling completely helpless. But then your gaze fell on the table and an idea was born in your head.

You crouched down, pretending to find something interesting on the floor, and neatly crawled under the table, sitting perfectly between its spread legs. You then thanked God that Leon liked to walk around the house in just a T-shirt and boxers. You placed your hand on his massive thigh, scratching it lightly and then kissed it from the inside. Leon seemed to ignore your actions until your lips kissed his half-hard cock through his dark boxers. His gaze immediately went to your face with a questioning look, at which you smiled innocently.

"Something wrong baby?" you asked dumbly kissing his boxers again. You heard him draw in air quickly through his nose and his toes flexed. "Come on, keep playing pretty boy."

Leon sighed heavily and you, completely ignoring the fact that his colleagues were further along on the links, got down to business. You slowly placed kisses on his cock, to which he twitched under the influence of this pleasure suppressed by the material. Your nails dug into his skin from time to time which caused additional sensations. However, the real challenge came when you slid your cool hand under his boxers. You knew very well that Leon was not one of the quietest people in bed, especially when you were giving him a blowjob. That's why you squeezed his penis with satisfaction and started pumping slowly, teaching him a lesson for ignoring you and your needs.

When pumping him didn't have the desired effect, you tilted back his boxers releasing his ruddy cock. Pre-cum dripped from the red head at which you fluttered your eyelashes and slowly licked off the transparent substance purring quietly.

"Fuck..." Leon's muffled moan brought an even bigger smile to your lips and his slightly panicked explanation in front of his colleagues in the headphones motivated you to continue.

You placed a kiss on its glowing tip and finally put its entire length in your mouth. You sucked your cheeks while moving your head at a laborious pace, running your hands up and down his thighs. You heard his breathing speed up considerably and he moved nervously. His toes were flexed. You took it out of your mouth to run your tongue over its entire length. Your gaze fell on his balls, which you also decided to lavish attention on. You sucked first one, then the other while still attending to his cock with your hand. Leon's sighs were like honey to your ears, especially as the mouse clicks became more and more erratic.

"I'm sorry b-but-" he snapped, biting his lip almost to the point of blood when you put him deep in your mouth again until he felt the walls of your throat "I'm having trouble with the i-internet..."

His cock twitched in your mouth, heralding that Leon was close to release. You sped up your movements, pumping him at his base. With your other hand, you gently squeezed his testicles. Leon, unable to contain himself anymore, quickly turned off the game, the laptop and pressed your head against his pelvis spilling into your mouth. You began to choke on his cum until your eyes were streaked with tears and your cheeks were burning from the heat.

"Y-you are terribly.. Impatient." he wheezed finally looking into your broken eyes as you swallowed his semen. "Such a good girl..."

"I told you to stop this silly game," you rose to place a passionate kiss on his soft lips and in the process give him a taste of yourself. Of course he returned the kiss, but it didn't last very long. In one deft motion, he pulled you out from under the table and easily threw you over his shoulder, giving you a slap on the buttock. "Leon!" you squealed with laughter.

"Come on doll, now let's play a real game." he snorted, directing his steps toward the bedroom.

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #resident evil #leon scott kennedy #character x reader #fictional story #character x you #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon resident evil #leon kennedy resident evil #resident evil leon #resident evil smut #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil leon kennedy #resident evil 4 #leon sexy kennedy #leon re4 #leonkennedy #leon #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x reader

[bellaxgiornata]

All These Years [Part 5: "Graduation"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Summary: You met Matthew Murdock unexpectedly at Columbia University and you couldn't deny that there was an instant attraction–for you. But for Matt, you became as close of a friend to him as Foggy did. As the years pass by, your feelings only grow for your best friend, but all you can do is watch as he dates and sleeps with every other woman on campus and eventually in New York City but you.

Warnings/tags: 18+ for this series; contains emotional hurt with no comfort until the final installments, angst, pining, friends to lovers, slowburn, and eventually smut

Word Count: 4.2k

a/n: This one hurts a little differently than the others. But oh, the next installment will be interesting...and that one is tentatively titled "Jealous and Impolite," but the title may change a tad when I have it written out. And we're pretending Foggy and Matt briefly get an apartment together at the beginning of their internship but then have their own place shortly before they open their own firm (but it's not really important besides Matt's upcoming nighttime hobby). The list of installments for this series can be found here. And feedback is always appreciated!

Tag list: @acharliecoxedfan @theetherealbloom @rotscinema @magnumstyles @roseallisonparker @ofmusesandsecrets @readerhead @paracosmic-murdock @v4leoftears @why-always-me-gosh-please @redbircl @keepingitlokiii @yarrystyleeza @mattkinsella2 @ms-murdockswift

Weaving your way around the crowds of people milling about in different directions outside on the campus lawn, your hands nervously fidgeted with the powder blue cap held between them. Your robes swished around your bare calves as you navigated the uproar around you, the weight of them uncomfortable over your dress on this warmer late May afternoon. All the while your eyes searched for Matt and Foggy among the chaos as you maneuvered your way around group after group of people. 

Your graduation ceremony had finished just before theirs, but you'd stayed behind in order to watch the pair of them walk, just like you’d promised them you would. You hadn't had a chance to see either of them before graduation this morning though, having been too busy getting ready yourself while trying to refrain from vomiting from the nerves swirling in your stomach. And when Matt's name had finally been called out and you had seen him walk across that stage in his own powder blue cap and gown, your heart had nearly stopped in your chest at the sight. It was like time had slowed down to a drag, your eyes following his every movement. He looked so handsome and happy, a broad smile on his face as he accepted the diploma cover. It wasn't until he'd walked off the stage that you had realized you'd been holding your breath, a wide smile spread across your own mouth. 

After his breakup with Elektra, Matt’s motivation had significantly plummeted. He’d been a mess for weeks, barely ever wanting to leave his bed and attend classes. He often said it wasn’t because of her, trying to deny it everytime you or Foggy tried to comfort him over the situation, but you and Foggy knew better. Matt hadn’t been himself for a very long time after Elektra had broken his heart. He’d even almost missed an important exam that he needed to pass in order to graduate the other week. If it hadn’t been for Foggy forcing him to get out of bed and get dressed and then practically dragging him to the exam himself, Matt would surely have missed it and he wouldn’t have been walking across that stage today. 

And the thought of that killed you, knowing just how much it had meant to Matt to graduate with this degree. How hard he’d been working for years for it. He had always been so incredibly passionate about law and about wanting to help those who weren’t fortunate enough to be able to afford good legal representation in the future. He’d been like that since the day you’d first met him in the library. You had spent many a night over the past couple of years listening to him and Foggy debate different topics in their dorm room–ethics often being a big one between them. And the way Matt always spoke so eloquently and intensely about his love and desire to help others had only steadily grown your love for him in return over the years you’d come to know him. He had the most compassionate heart of anyone you’d ever met and he had the most brilliant mind to accompany it. So it only broke your own heart further seeing him giving up on his dreams ever since she had disappeared. Which had once again only given you further reason to hate Elektra–she’d come into his life in a whirlwind and left a mess of the man he’d once been in her wake. 

Though while she’d certainly crushed his spirit–withering it away to almost nothing–she hadn’t broken him completely. You and Foggy had spent plenty of time picking up the pieces and putting him slowly back together. Encouraging him to focus on his studies and to let her go. Eventually he’d done just that, and now him and Foggy were off to intern at a large law firm–Landman and Zack. The pair of them had even gotten an apartment together lined up. Meanwhile, you were still waiting to hear back about the position you’d interviewed for last week, hoping you would have the funds to continue to pay for the apartment you’d recently leased. You were waiting on that news to come some time today, though.

The sound of your name being called out from behind you drew you to a stop and pulled you straight from your thoughts. Your brows furrowed as you spun in a circle, searching for whoever it was that might have been calling for you. A few seconds later, your eyes scanning the throngs of people around you, you finally spotted Foggy and Matt emerging from the masses. Both men were grinning wide, Matt holding onto Foggy’s forearm as Foggy led the pair of them over towards you. They were clutching their diploma covers under an arm, the sight still surreal.

“I didn’t think I’d ever find you two!” you exclaimed, making your way towards them.

“It’s a goddamn madhouse here!” Foggy shouted back, the grin never leaving his mouth. “And don’t you look stunning in that baby blue potato sack!”

You laughed, shooting Foggy the finger before your eyes shifted to Matt. The pair of them came to a stop just before you and you felt your heart speed up in your chest as your eyes took in the sight of Matt in his cap and gown. His dark glasses were covering his eyes, but nothing could hide the glow of sheer happiness and excitement on his face as he beamed back at you. You tried hard to fight the ridiculous smile on your own face as you stared at him for a moment, but you noticed Foggy beside him had certainly caught the stupid, dopey smile you were aiming at Matt. Heat rose up to your cheeks as you glanced down in embarrassment, grateful Matt couldn’t see it himself.

“We fucking did it!” Foggy cried out. 

“I can’t believe it still,” you admitted, running a hand through your hair. “Like, I feel like I still have classes next week to attend. Projects to finish. More boring lectures to heavily caffeinate before so I don’t fall asleep.”

Matt chuckled, the sound warm and comforting to your nerves. He was always so comforting to you, though, you thought. And he never even realized it.

“It might be awhile before it sinks in, but you certainly don’t have all of that to worry about anymore,” he assured you.

“No,” Foggy cut in. “Now we just have to worry about getting jobs and paying bills.”

“Speaking of,” Matt began, his head tilting to the side as he focused in on you, “did you hear back from that company yet?”

Shaking your head a little solemnly, you replied with a soft, “No.”

“Ahh, well,” he said, the smile never leaving his face, “I’m sure you’ll hear back later today with good news. You’re amazing and they’d be morons not to hire you.”

“If only I could put that on my resume,” you joked.

Someone hit your elbow as they barreled past you from behind. You winced, rubbing your arm as you shot them a glare at their back. Beside Matt, Foggy sent you a sympathetic look.

“Why don’t we get out of this post-ceremony chaos?” he suggested. “Before the next one starts?”

Your eyes darted around, taking in the neverending streams of people. There was a sea of powder blue almost everywhere you looked.

“Yeah, I think that’s a great idea,” you agreed.

Matt quickly shifted his diploma cover to his hand, extending the arm he wasn’t hanging on to Foggy with out towards you. Your eyes dropped down to it, your brows drawing together in confusion.

“Here, you want to hold on to me?” Matt asked, his arm still offered towards you. “I don’t want to lose you out here. I know I can’t actually see the chaos ensuing, but I can certainly hear it. Sounds pretty bad.”

Switching your own diploma to the other hand, you reached out and looped your arm through Matt’s. He drew you in close to his side immediately after, taking you by surprise when your hip bumped up against his thigh under his graduation gown. Foggy peering around Matt completely cut off whatever reaction your body was about to have to that contact instantly.

“Hey, you want to come with us to grab lunch?” Foggy asked. “My family wanted to celebrate last minute and I know yours couldn’t be here today. You want to join us?”

The three of you began walking, Foggy and you navigating the group of you around the masses of people as Matt fell in step between you both. Your hip kept brushing up against Matt’s thigh though and it was taking every ounce of your focus to ignore it as you walked.

“Oh, lunch?” you asked, hip yet again bumping Matt’s solid thigh. 

“You’d make me feel less like the weird, adopted child,” Matt joked.

You laughed lightly, turning your body just at the last moment towards Matt to avoid bumping into a couple walking past you. You felt his arm tense around yours as your chest briefly pressed against him before you swiftly pulled back away. 

“I uh, I can’t,” you answered quickly, trying to ignore whatever weirdness you’d just caused. “I haven’t finished packing up my dorm fully. Sort of wanted to get it done before dinner tonight.”

Foggy peered around Matt again, catching your eye. “You’re still coming over to celebrate tonight at least, right?” he asked. “Because I’ll be mad at you if you don’t.”

You scoffed loudly, rolling your eyes. “Are you kidding me, Nelson? Of course I’m coming over to celebrate our last night in our dorms. Why the hell would I miss that?” you asked.

“Just making sure,” he said.

The three of you finally made it away from the ceremony location, coming to a stop just before one of the main paths on campus. People were still milling about, but it was at least vastly less populated here. You slipped your arm out from underneath Matt’s, his head snapping towards you at the loss of contact.

“This is where we part ways for now then, boys,” you said. “Enjoy your lunch and I’ll see you both later. I’ve got some packing to finish.”

“You’re missing out!” Foggy called after you.

You turned, heading the familiar path back to your residence hall, your heels clicking along the sidewalk as you went. 

“Don’t I know it,” you muttered to yourself, your mind already wandering back to Matt.

Legs crossed on the end of Matt’s bed, you were staring at Foggy across the room. He was passed out, lying half upright against the headboard of his own bed, his mouth hanging open as he snored lightly. The empty pizza box of the pizza the three of you had devoured a bit ago sat open on the end of his mattress.

“Told you he’d be the first to pass out,” Matt said behind you.

You rolled your eyes at his comment, your head turning back towards him. He was leaning against his headboard, one leg crossed over the other in his dark sweatpants. His arms were behind his head, a smile on his mouth. He looked the picture of relaxed as he lay there, his eyes fixed near you on the end of his bed. It never ceased to amaze you how unfairly attractive he was at all times.

“Foggy always passes out first,” you pointed out. “Not really anything new there, Murdock.”

He laughed lightly, nodding his head. “You have a point,” he agreed. “Suppose it wouldn’t be our last night here if it didn’t involve Foggy passing out early after a handful of beers.”

A heaviness hit you in the chest at Matt’s words, your eyes dropping down to your lap. Your fingers played with the hem of your jeans, a soft sigh leaving you. Matt’s foot gently nudged your knee, drawing your attention back up to his face. His dark brows were drawn together, a deep crease forming on his forehead. His head tilted to the side as he studied you with a slight frown.

“What’s up?” he asked. “Thought you’d be more excited. We just graduated. You got the job you wanted–which I mean, I already knew you would. But this is supposed to be a good night. Why the sullenness?”

Because I also won’t have nights like these ever again.

“I am excited,” you admitted slowly. “But I mean it’s–it’s a little bittersweet, isn't it? Hanging out with you and Foggy was my routine for a couple of years now. Coming over here and studying with you guys. Or just drinking and hanging out and ordering incredibly strange combinations of takeout.”

Matt broke into a laugh, the bright sound cutting you off. “Certainly some strange combinations. Foggy is a genius when it comes to ordering the right food when you’re drunk though,” he mused.

“Yeah, he is,” you agreed, a sad smile on your lips. “And that was our thing for years. But now?” You shrugged lightly. “I won't be able to just walk to the residence hall beside mine and hop on an elevator to reach your guys' place. There's no more sitting around eating pizza and drinking beer late at night after tonight.” You felt your eyes welling up with tears and you immediately focused back on your fidgeting hands. “Now we’re getting apartments and jobs. Becoming adults. Needing sleep because we work."

And I’m losing you.

Your heart twisted in your chest at the thought. Sure, you weren’t leaving New York City and neither were they–hell, you were all moving into Hell’s Kitchen. But how long before your lives went in separate directions? Before they settled down and became successful lawyers who ran in entirely different circles than you? When would your friendship suddenly fall away?

“Hey,” Matt said softly.

The tone of his voice caught your attention and you looked back up at him. You watched him scoot over on the bed, his left hand coming down and patting the space beside him. Your lip slipped between your teeth as you nervously chewed it.

“Come sit with me?” he asked.

Unable to ever refuse Matt, you uncrossed your legs and made your way gradually over to the top of his bed. Sitting down beside him, you leant your back against his headboard and settled in next to him. It took you by surprise when Matt easily slipped his left arm around your shoulders and drew you further into his side until your head inevitably rested along his shoulder. Your hands awkwardly clasped together in your lap, feeling unsure what to do with them. Matt had never really been this forthright with you before. 

“It is a little bittersweet,” he agreed gently. “You and Foggy have become like the family I never really had while I’ve been here. And you–you both mean a lot to me.” 

He blew out a breath slowly, your head falling with the movement of his shoulder. You noticed he smelled really good, as if he’d put on a faint bit of cologne today. Something you never really noticed him doing before. Your head turned just a bit in towards his neck as you tried to breathe in the scent of him a little more, committing it to memory.

“Things are changing, sure,” he continued, “but I still plan to be here as long as you are. I don’t think anything can separate the three of us.”

“You say that now,” you mumbled. “But you don’t know how the next few years are going to go.”

His arm lightly shook you, your name falling from his lips so softly. The sound of it drew the corners of your mouth up ever so slightly.

“You are one of my absolute best friends,” Matt admitted. “And as long as you want my dumb ass as your friend, I’ll always be here.”

You snorted in amusement, shaking your head against his shoulder and ignoring that dull ache that always hit you when Matt called you his friend. 

“You’re the furthest thing from being a dumbass,” you said. “Especially with your fancy new law degree now.”

He chuckled, the sound a pleasant, deep rumble in your ears. You smiled, eyes dropping closed as you leaned further into him. You wanted to memorize every detail of this moment with him, to commit it to memory in your mind forever, because you were certain you’d never have another moment like this again with Matt. Not after college. He'd certainly be bombarded with beautiful women left and right, especially as a successful lawyer. Eventually he’d find someone and settle down with them. And you would slowly fade from his life no matter what he said. 

Your eyes tightened a little harder, fighting back the threat of tears at that thought. You didn’t want to think about the day Matt was no longer a part of your life.

"We can still get together on the weekends," Matt told you. "Maybe Saturday nights? We can make it a thing, even."

"Fog said you guys were going to be insanely busy at that internship," you pointed out, fighting to keep your voice from cracking. "Working weekends even."

Matt shrugged in response, your head rising and falling with the movement yet again. You felt his hand begin to gently rub along your arm, the gesture confusing as much as it was comforting you. Matt had never touched you like this before, had never wanted you close to him like this. He must have been experiencing that same bittersweet nostalgic feeling you were with knowing both your lives were about to change drastically. 

"We'll figure it out," he promised you. "We're bound to take breaks at some point, right? We'll make it work. I'm not losing you."

Your hands balled into fists in your lap, your jaw tightening at what he’d said. Those last four words hung heavy in the air between the pair of you. The desire to suddenly spill forth your feelings to Matt was almost unbearable. Whether it was from the excitement of the day, the three beers you’d had tonight, the nervous fear of how things were about to change, or the way Matt’s hand was still soothingly gliding back and forth along your arm, you somehow found yourself wanting to tell him how you felt. You desperately wanted him to know how much you’d loved him for years. 

Your fingernails dug into your palms from where your hands were still balled up. The thought of having that weight lifted from your shoulders was so tempting. You just wanted to stop hiding it from him, to stop holding yourself back. You just wanted to say it, just once.

But you knew you couldn't ultimately say anything at all. Matt had said it himself multiple times tonight already–you were his friend. Like family to him. He wouldn’t want to hear you express your love for him in any way that wasn’t strictly familial and platonic.

“I wish my dad had been here today,” Matt whispered.

With a shaky exhale, your eyelids flew back open and you pushed your previous thoughts aside–as you'd done many times before. You focused on Matt instead. Shifting your head along his shoulder, you looked up at him beside you. His lips were pulled into a deep frown, the sorrow written plain as day in his eyes as he stared blankly across the room. The sight had your heart squeezing in your chest exactly like it had done that day you’d seen him after Elektra had smashed his heart.

You knew how much he loved his father and how much he missed him. He’d had a very deep conversation with you one night, a little over a year ago, spilling his heart to you about his father's death. He’d told you how it had affected him. He’d even confessed that he hadn’t ever told Foggy all of that before, that he’d only ever told you. And you had felt honored he would even open up that much to you, expressing such deep, personal feelings. Especially because Matt didn’t let people in easily.

“He was here in his own way today,” you assured him. “And he’d be proud of you, Matt. You graduated at the top of your class. From an Ivy League law school.”

"I just wish I could tell him," he whispered. "Hear what he'd say to me."

Hesitantly you tested his boundaries, lifting your arm and carefully wrapping it around his waist. When he didn't protest, you gently squeezed him in a hug, drawing yourself closer.

"He'd say you're still his smarty pants son, I'm sure," you answered.

A small, almost sad laugh fell out of Matt, his other hand coming up to cover yours. A warmth gradually felt like it filled you as Matt’s thumb lightly stroked the backs of your knuckles. You had no idea what it meant that the pair of you were cuddled up on his bed together like this, but you were just going to let yourself enjoy it tonight. You didn’t want to ruin this moment with reality.

"I can't believe you remembered that I told you he called me that," he whispered. 

"I remember everything you tell me, Matty," you replied. “Especially the important things.”

There was a moment of silence before both of Matt’s hands stopped their absent, almost affectionate movements against your arm and your hand. You frowned, wondering if he’d finally decided the pair of you had crossed some boundary too far out of friendship, especially with what you’d just said. But then his hand released yours, landing gently and almost hesitantly on your neck. You swallowed hard when his fingertips took a slow glide up the length of your throat until his palm could cup your cheek. Carefully he pulled you away from his shoulder, angling your face up towards his as he whispered your name. 

He was looking down at you with his brows slightly drawn together, something unexplainable hidden in his eyes. You couldn’t quite make sense of what it was, your own eyes narrowing back at him as they jumped back and forth between his. His face was so close to yours though, you quickly realized. The warm exhalations of his breath from his slightly parted lips falling against your own mouth each time.

Was he going to kiss you? Surely not…

“You are…absolutely amazing,” he whispered. “And I–I–”

Your heart sped up in your chest, that almost fight or flight reaction abruptly coursing through you. You were almost afraid as you sat there gazing back at Matt, terrified you were steadily letting yourself get your hopes up for something that wasn’t going to happen. You could feel it happening already, that desperate yearning for more only rapidly increasing your panic.

Matt’s gaze shifted from yours, darting across the room towards Foggy for a moment as he winced. His eyes closed briefly before he turned his focus back on you, his sightless eyes falling along your left cheekbone. He winced again–the action incredibly minute this time–before he spoke.

“And I don’t ever want to lose you as my friend,” he finished. “And I just–just want you to know that.”

Your heart sank to the floor at his words. You knew they were coming, you knew it, yet they still managed to hurt. That panicked feeling inside of you quickly dissipated, your body quickly trying to become numb to this moment. Of course he wasn’t about to kiss you and confess his feelings to you. How unrealistic would that have been.

But you realized he was still staring back at you, an expression on his face that further confused you as he clearly waited for you to respond. Pulling away from him, the moment entirely soured to you now, you forced a smile onto your face as his hand fell from your cheek.

“I uh, I don’t want to lose your friendship either, Matt,” you said, forcing to keep your voice even. “But it’s–it’s late. Maybe I should let you get some sleep. We’ve both got a big move tomorrow.”

“Right, yeah,” he said softly, nodding.

You slid away from Matt, making your way to the edge of the bed before climbing off of it. Awkwardly you turned back around towards him, your eyes taking in the sight of him on his dorm room bed for what would be the last time ever. A flood of emotions struck you all at once like a punch to the gut, the weight of this being the end of an era really hitting you in this moment. Things were changing.

“Don’t be a stranger, Matty,” you whispered.

He shot you a tense, sad smile. “I won’t,” he promised.

You spun on your heel, crossing your arms across your chest tight as you made your way out of their dorm room for the last time. It wasn’t until you’d finally made it back to your own building that the tears began to fall. 

Maybe, you thought, it was time for you to let Matt just be your friend. Maybe now it was time to crush that ridiculous lingering hope you’d had for there to ever be something more between you two once and for all.

Maybe you needed to move on.

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock angst #matt murdock x f!reader #matt murdock x fem reader #matt murdock series #matt murdock fic #matt murdock fanfic #daredevil x female reader #daredevil x reader #matt murdock

[canonicallyobserving911]

Buck & Eddie: “You don’t know me!” - 7x5

In 2x8, Buck told a woman, “You don’t even know me!” and according to the script for episode 5 in season 7, the title of it will be almost an exact match since it's "You don’t know me!” and it appears to be a callback to his comment.

Since it's possible some may not have watched 2x8 Buck Actually in a while, here’s a quick reminder of the conversation Buck had with Bobby.  They were discussing TK and how Buck hooked up with her in a bar restroom but Buck told him that since he had finally let go of AC, he thought she had changed him 🙄. Then he proceeded to say he had only been single for like a day and he was back to basically being Buck 1.0. When they entered the gas station, Buck kept talking to Bobby about how he was thinking about calling TK but he didn’t want her to think he was only after one thing.  While Hen was treating the woman robber victim, she overheard Buck talking and commented, “You are only after one thing.  Jerk!”.  Buck responded, “You don’t even know me!” and she replied, “You’re a man, I know enough!”

Why is this important?

It’s important because the theme of “You don’t know me” has been applied to Buck with regards to every hookup or so-called “relationship” he’s had with different women on the show.  Let’s be real for a minute because the truth is none of them AC, AM, TK, ND, Dr. Wells nor the two women he hooked up with in season 1 knew him either.  Also, the woman who made the comment was a random victim who overheard Buck talking for less than a minute and she thought she knew Buck just because he’s a man. It was implied that all men want to do is hookup and leave like he did with TK but Buck has been and continues to search for the love of his life. The conversation he had with her connects to the one he had with Eddie in 6x15 while they were standing in the cemetery.

Buck said, “I feel like I have to try and be the same old Buck… mostly for the sake of everyone else” and Eddie responded, “You don’t have to be anything for anybody”.

IMO, their comments were being made directly to the audience and they were for the people who, after six seasons still want to keep seeing Buck do the same thing over and over again (I know it’s hard to believe but trust and believe there are people in the GA and in the 9-1-1 fandom who want to keep Buck on the hamster wheel and I think it’s because they DON’T WANT HIM TO BE WITH EDDIE).  These are the viewers who would rather he keep randomly hooking up with people (it could be anybody and it doesn’t matter if it’s irrational, nonsensical, illogical, random or whatever/whomever just as long as they can see him hookup with another guy or another random love interest) instead of him finally accepting the love that him and Eddie effortlessly share with one another.  I’ve said this many times, Buck and Eddie are in love with each other, they’re soulmates (post linked here) and they share a once in a lifetime love of their lives type of love that transcends space and time.  They have a deep, emotional and intimate connection that’s not superficial and it’s not based on a hookup.  They have an EPIC love story that deserves to be told without any more distractions or the addition of one-dimensional love interests.  It’s not platonic, it’s romantic and if they do go CANON, it will make for groundbreaking television.

Back to our regularly scheduled program…

After the title for 7x5 was released a few weeks ago, I completed a post about how Connor really doesn’t know Buck the way he said he does in 6x4 (linked here) and I stand by everything I included in it.  However, this post is in addition to that one and it includes the details about how all the women Buck dated didn’t know him either.

In 1x1, the first woman Buck was shown hooking up with in the firetruck told him to his face that she didn’t want to get to know him.  He asked her for her number and she replied, “You’re cute and you’re very good at whatever it is we just did but let’s not ruin it by getting to know each other.” She didn't want to get to know him and the look on his face showed he wanted more but she didn't so he moved on to the next one.

Dr. Wells was the LAFD’s trauma therapist and SHE TRIED TO BEFRIEND Buck on Facebook before he ever entered her office.  She knew the day would come when he would need therapy and when he asked her if she sent him a friend request, she told him he should delete it but then they ended up having sex.  It was played off like a joke but that’s not what it was because she was in a position of power and as a licensed therapist, she should have been charged because it’s against the law for that to happen. IMO, since Buck didn't know any better, as his captain, Bobby should have reported her. She wasn't mentioned again until 3x9 when Buck, Bobby, Chimney and Eddie were sitting in the loft at the firehouse and all Bobby said was "She's no longer with the department". That wasn't enough and she took advantage of him. Trust and believe the situation would have ended differently if the roles had been reversed.

AC wasn’t any different because after Buck stood by her and helped her after her mom died, he was being catfished by a man and several women were after him because of that guy's lies. After a woman threw a drink in his face, he said to her, “You know me right? Come on” and she replied, “I don’t even know who I am right now. But I definitely don’t feel like I know who you are right now.” She ended up ghosting him and abandoning him while he waited for her for months.

When she returned two years later, she didn't even apologize to him.

AM didn’t know Buck either and don’t get sidetracked by the fact that she called him Evan sometimes.  It was proven she didn’t know who he is when she said, “I know it’s who you are” after he said, “You want me to quit my job”.  Well, being a firefighter is NOT who Buck is, it’s what he does but she clearly saw him as a hot firefighter just like AC did and was looking for a good time. Please remember she didn't have a problem leaving him because of it.

TK didn’t know Buck at all and for everyone who thinks just because they were having sex and living together, that doesn’t mean anything because after meeting four years earlier, TK still had no idea who Buck was before it was over and she didn’t care.  If she had known him then she wouldn’t have betrayed his trust.  Also, he did cheat on her which made the situation worse but neither of them wanted to admit they weren’t supposed to be together and they clung instead of just ending it.  When he got ready to break up with her, she didn't try to see his side of it, she just stuck to her immoral ideals and wanted him to be ok with her running with the Jonah story.  Instead of saying, “I understand and I apologize” she said, “You knew who I was when we started dating” and he replied, “I guess I thought I could learn to live with it”.  She made it all about her the same way Buck makes everything about himself. They were two self-centered people with tragic childhoods in a trainwreck relationship and it shouldn’t have ever happened. It's still interesting that Buck ended up in a relationship with her after everything she did to Bobby and the 118 four years earlier (related post linked here and here).

ND fangirled over Buck and was so enthralled by his death but when she found out he had a full life, she did judge him.  He said, “I know this is something that’s easy to judge” but even though she said that him being a sperm donor was a kind gesture or whatever, she left because she couldn't handle his full life. Granted she was a death doula but her actions weren't professional and it would have been better if she would have helped him deal with his death. Her return should have ended with Buck saying "No thanks" and sending her on her way but of course he was shoved into another lackluster one dimensional relationship. Also, them telling each other, “I like you” was very high school like🙄.

Please understand, I don't like TK but in 4x8 she said, "You just can't stand the idea of someone not liking you" and she was right. Buck works hard to make people like him and it's very reminiscent of the way he's been trying to get his parents to love him anyway. He needs therapy.

It seems like he's still doing it and the words Bobby spoke in 6x11 during his coma dream had no effect since he still cares about how people see him. He hasn't learned anything yet but hopefully he will in season 7.

Eddie Diaz is the ONLY person on the show who KNOWS and SEES Buck and the video above includes several snippets from different episodes to prove it.

Eddie knows him at his core. He knows when to call him on his BS, he recognizes when Buck makes things about himself and he knows when he's trying to fix things instead of understanding it's not always his job to fix them.

Maddie is Buck's sister but she still sees Evan (post linked here) her little brother but Eddie knows Buck and after they become a CANON couple, he’ll know Buck even more. 

While I’m not sure who’s going to say, “You don’t know me” in 7x5 or if it will be said at all, I do believe Buck might say it again and if he does, it will be a callback to 2x8. Also, 6x15 could be included in it since Buck might not be trying to be the "same old Buck" anymore and hopefully it will be enough for the naysayers to understand he's not the same person. IMO, I still think it’s something he will say to Connor especially since the sperm donor arc is supposed to return and OS said in an interview it won’t be revisited before the first 5 episodes.  Hopefully, Buck will finally realize the people he thought knew him really don’t including Connor.

Is it possible Eddie could say it to M, maybe but I don’t know because IMO that doesn’t sound like something he would say to anyone.  But he is all therapized now and he’s supposed to be joking or whatever this season so who knows.

The point of this post is to illustrate how Buck said, “You don’t even know me” in 2x8 and apparently, it’s going to be a callback in 7x5 but the question is, if he does say it, who’s he going to say it to? 👀 

#buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #christopher diaz #the buckley diaz family #buckley diaz family #911 abc #911 on abc #911 meta #911 season 7 #911 season 7 speculation #911 spoilers #911 speculation #anti taylor kelly #anti natalia dollenmeyer #anti bucktalia #anti dr. wells #anti bucktaylor #anti buckabby #anti buckali

[kurogxrix]

When The Time Comes ( III. )

⇀ ( I. ) ( II. )

Sully family x Sully!reader, oc x Sully!reader

IN WHICH your family leaves for Awa’atlu under the threat of Quatritch, leaving you and your mate to rule the Omaticaya. You all reunite after 2 years but someone seems to be missing? Your younger brother, Neteyam.

WC: 9k

Warnings: ANGST, death, grief of a brother:(, suggestive, feeding the Mo’rata babes with this😋.

It was late at night as you waited for the moment when your mate would return home to you. Usually he would’ve returned home to you and your daughter, but to your surprise and shock when you had woken up in the morning, your daughter was nowhere to be seen. 

Your senses were enveloped with an intense feeling of fear as you rounded the village in search of your child, only before getting your nerves eased by one of your mate’s trainees. The news of your mate leaving the village with your young daughter right after your instance of dread was not necessarily pleasing, but you appreciated the honest man’s actions nevertheless. 

Your ears were downcasted and your tail tense and resting right between your legs. You just couldn’t wait to chew him out once he would step foot into your shared tent. After your father had left to seek uturu from another clan because of Quaritch’s constant menaces, you had decided to stay behind and lead the people alongside your mate.

Your family and you both knew that without Jake here, no trouble would arise for the Omaticaya. It had been with heavy hearts and tear stained faces that your family and you had both seperated, watching them fly further and further away upon their ikrans. Before they had left, Jake had surrendered his title of Olo’eyktan to the future leader of his people, Morata. Your heart and eyes burned as you watched your dad get slashed across the chest by your husband, in an act of ‘killing’ him to pass his title to Mo’rata. 

You knew how hard he had fought for the title, how much he had given for his people. He had given up his life on earth, his beliefs and everything that he once had for this life. For your mother who he had fallen so foolishly in love with. Watching him give it all up for the sake of his family brought tears to your eyes, which Mo’rata was quick to dry. You weren’t Tsahik yet, considering that your adoring grandmother was still rolling. Though Tsahik training did not did not strain you any less.

At the news of your bearing, you had been both elated and exhausted. The clan swayed and shared a feast all night at the news of a new clan member soon to be welcomed. You were truly happy at the side of your mate, and the grin on his face told you that he felt just the same. 

But now you were so, oh so angry at him. How dared he take your only daughter out on a hunt with him and the older na’vi men. Wasn't he aware of how dangerous the rainforest truly was? Surely his numerous scars must’ve been a forewarning. 

At the sound of heavy footsteps, you turned your whole body to the opening of your tent. Few years prior, he would’ve probably jumpscared you by sneaking up on you, courtesy of his silent footfalls. 

Though fatherhood has taken a toll on the man’s overall playfulness, deep down you knew that he was still the unruly teen that he once was, just having matured outwardly for the sake of his people. 

There he stood in all of his glory, with your tired daughter laying limp in his arms. Her barely opened eyes was the only indication that she was awake, even though it wouldn’t last for long. He knew that by the sight of your furrowed eyebrows and scrunched up nose that he was in trouble, he had already known ever since he had taken your daughter in the morning. You walked towards him, angry footsteps making more noise than his as you approached the both of them. 

Your daughter looked at you through her big and tired round eyes, a familiar trait that you both shared. Her head was swaying adorably back and forth as she tried desperately to stay awake in her father’s embrace. You pulled her away from Mo’rata, rightfully ignoring him as you undressed your daughter of all of her jewellery. You unclasped the necklace that she wore, a tinier version of her father’s. The same necklace that you had weaved him so many years ago. 

Your daughter, Sewii, had always wanted to be like her father. She was born a natural sweetheart, but it amused you how she tried to act stoic just like her father at times. Her facade would always break when you’d lift her up in your arms and nuzzle your nose into her chubby neck, ripping a wholehearted belly laugh out of her as she claimed that it tickled. 

Your mate watched with adoration as you delicately placed your daughter onto your shared hammock, given that she was too small to have her own, and mostly that you loved having her in between the both of you at night. You placed a kiss on her temple as her eyes shut tight for the night. Once Sewii was off to dreamland and her quiet snores resonated all over the tent, you turned back to your husband.

“I think we need to talk.” you hissed, teeth clenched together as you spoke. Lo’ak and you would always try to stifle your laughter when your angry mother would speak to you both in such a way, but now you could understand that it was truly a given mom thing. Mo’rata’s ears fell as he began to make his way out of the tent. He knew that if he even dared to utter a word to you right now, you would most probably serve his ass right back to him. 

“You brought our daughter out of the village gates, without even telling me?” you seethed, whisper-shouting at your irresponsible mate before you. Mo’rata’s eyes stared deep into yours as he remained quiet.

“You are like a baby, like a child that has first stepped foot into the forest. You know if it’s dangers and yet you dragged her along with you!” Mo’rata’s eyes then casted downwards at your accusations. Your tail flickered wildly behind you, the tip of it curving upwards as it conveyed your discontentment. 

“She is 2 years old now, she should be able to see the world like we do.” Mo’rata raised his voice involuntarily as he started, wincing slightly as he saw the way your shoulders fell. “You prevent her from being like the other children, she is bored and sad sitting in the village all day.” he tried now in a softer tone, though it was hard when the subject affected him just as much as it did for you and your daughter.

His hands had moved to grab onto yours somewhere between his statements, but you were too lost in his words to even have noticed. 

His fierce yellow eyes softened as yours practically sunk. You didn’t wish to bore or sadden your child, she was your everything. You felt as though you were your father in this instant, and she was the younger you that wished for nothing else than a sliver of freedom. You didn’t want her to be imprisoned amongst the invisible walls of the village, but your fears laid deep within.

Ever since your father and family had left for awa’atlu, the clan had deemed it safe enough for you all to move from the high camp and back onto the comfort of the trees. Everything was more accessible that way, more livable.

“I just want to keep her out of danger, yawne. She’s our only daughter, and I fear that it will stay this way for long.” he practically melted at the nickname though his heart fractured upon your words. The tears that had involuntarily gathered in your eyes breached the water wall, now pouring freely onto your cheeks. Mo’rata wasted no time as he pulled you flushed onto him, dropping your hands to comfort you in his embrace.

One of his arms laid onto the back of your shoulders as yours wrapped around his torso. His other hand caressed your hair in a comforting manner. It was silent as Mo’rata could never find the right words to bring reconfort, but his touch and actions always did it for you. He knew deep down that you had not forgiven him yet for the whole previous incident, but that was something that you could work on later. Now there was some sort of solace that you both sought after the weight of your words. 

Years prior, after you had been promised under the gazes of the many people - Mo’rata wasted no time in claiming you as his. You both had waited until eclipse before sneaking out like young teens once more. Jake had not stopped you from running off that night, solely because Neytiri had been physically holding him back. He knew what this meant, why you had been running off specifically that night. 

He knew that it was hypocritical and selfish to stop you from relishing in your newfound mate, because he and Neytiri had been through it. He knew that it was wrong to stop you. So he watched as you ran away, not showing your face until the break of dawn as you came back riding your ikran alongside Mo’rata. 

He acknowledged that you were a grown woman now, and that a family of your own would soon issue. jake told himself that he was ready for his eldest to finally leave the nest, though he and Neytiri both knew that they would grieve upon your departure for some time. It was hard enough watching their first child grow up so fast, but it was harder helping you move your things onto your new tent. 4 kids in their home was definitely something that they would have to learn to get used to. 

Though after the 5 months mark had hit ever since you had publicly announced your bond with Mo’rata, there was still no signs of you bearing any child. It was slightly alarming, and your family began noticing soon enough - though no one had the balls to ask. 

Except for your youngest brother Lo’ak, well he had gotten close to before getting smacked by Kiri. 

When you had first laid with Mo’rata, it had truly been a breathtaking experience for the both of you. Mostly for the male na’vi, given his inexperience - you had made it your goal to make him see the stars from up close on that night. You had started the night by leading, touching him in all sorts of ways after he had given you the green light.

It didn’t take him too long to learn, given his keen attention. Though he was still a little sloppy and blowsy, the intimate moment you had first shared was engraved onto his heart permanently. He loved that you were his first everything. His first love, first kiss, first relation - in all kinds of ways. You had laid besides each other at night, under the protection of the All-Great Mother. Your head had rested on his firm chest as his hands held you tightly in his embrace. Your queues still attached, tendrils intertwined firmly together. 

Your little nightly moments had been doubling, tripling and soon you found yourself going at it like rabbits. You felt once more like a teen that had just discovered the amazing world of pleasure, and mo’rata was adamant on being the one who made you see stars now. 

After five months, the fact that you remained unbearing had begun to trouble your busy mind. You had seeked the presence of your grandmother, the great Tsahik herself. Though she could not find anything anormal within your anatomy, you had gone back home full of self doubt that night. Your husband was quick to comfort you, holding you like he always did when you needed a little more reassurance. 

You had always found it hard to affirm your feelings, courtesy of your father’s strict lifestyle as a young child. So when you had finally opened up to your mother about it, you couldn’t stop fiddling with your fingers or looking at anything but her. Neytiri had a soft frown present amongst her features as she watched tears of frustration gather in your eyes before blinking the pathetic tears away. 

She had not known what was wrong with you. Well nothing was wrong with you, you just didn’t know how to word it. She had conceived you quickly after first laying with your father, and soon came your other siblings, so you being late on the whole pregnancy thing was strange.

After the tragic departure of your parents and siblings, a whole year after becoming mo’rata’s loyal mate - was when you had finally found out about your pregnancy. Hitting the 2 years and 2 months mark after her birth, here you were now - arguing with your mate about your light and joy.

You would always remember the prideful look amongst Mo’rata’s face when he had first announced your bearing to the clan, then the one that he had on while holding your child for the first time. He held your tiny daughter up and high for the clan to see, chanting her name as they did. She was barely bigger than the two palms of his hands, a big baby indeed. Despite her chubby cheeks and body full of fat rolls, she was still the cutest baby that you had both ever seen. 

-

You had always had some kind of faith in the thought that your family would return soon. Even though it’s soon to be 3 years since their departure, their absence still left a black hole in the depths of your heart. You could almost imagine it, the look on all of their faces upon their returns when they see your little one for the first time. 

How happy and proud your family would be for you, how proud they would be to see the fine chief that you made alongside your mate. Even in your upset state since earlier, your ears raised at the thought of your family, folding outwards. You wondered how the Metkayina were treating them, you wondered how big Tuk had gotten now. You’d dread the moment when she would not fit in the comfort of your arms anymore, or worse, when she would not want to be in them. 

You wondered if your father has been treating your youngest brother well, and vice versa. If your mother is at peace with your brother's arguments and if Kiri is able to connect with Eywa as much in Awa’atlu as she does here. You almost laugh at yourself for this one, of course she would, the people here even nickname her ‘Child of Eywa’ because of her strong connection with the All-Great Mother. 

You thought of your brother, Neteyam. You wondered if he was happy now that some responsibilities were taken off his back. You knew that at their arrival, he would most likely have it harder than here, but you prayed to Eywa for her to take all burdens off of his shoulder - and that’s what she had done.

Just not in the way you would’ve wished for.

Though you ignored anything that was happening with your family at the moment, you could only pray for them. Sewii sat in your lap as her face was squeezed in between your breasts in an attempt at getting breastfed again. She had reached the age where she could eat soft fruits and begin to chew on shredded meat, but she was so adamant about letting go of her sweet delicacy. 

You sighed at her once more, moving your hands from your work to push her away. She was just as hard-headed as her father, though Mo’rata would always argue and say that she had gotten that trait from a certain someone else. Sewii reached her little hand up again to grasp at the beads on your top, pulling it downwards towards her with all of her might.

You were just about to reprimand her as you had heard it, the loud ringing of horns. You would’ve gotten up way more abruptly if it wasn’t for the little bundle of joy that was on your lap, so you gently took her and dragged her outside with you. The horns could only alert two things, an unwanted arrival - most probably a sign for humans on sight. Then there was the arrival of people, na’vi people. 

You looked up at the 4 Ikran’s that were approaching your clan and you felt cold sweat gather up on the nape of your neck. If those were to be intruders then you feared for the safety of your clan, mostly of your family’s. They couldn’t be though, their path was immediate and there was no hesitation in their moves. They knew the forest like they knew themselves.

Mo’rata had suddenly popped out of nowhere, now being by your side. He raised a protective arm around the both of you, holding his family safe behind his stature. Everyone turned their eyes at the sight of their Olo’eyktan, wondering what the judgement for the new arrivals would be. 

Though when a series of gasps had been let off amidst the crowd, you knew better than them being a threat. You gave your daughter for Mo’at to hold as she happily accepted the embrace of her great-grandchild. You loved Mo’at not only because she was the best grandmother but because she was so loving to her family. She has always been when you were a child, and despite her age now she continues to be for the child of your own. 

You looked at your mate in the eyes before pushing through the crowd, with Mo’rata straight on your tail. You didn’t know who you were expecting when you had seen the 4 Ikrans, but the sight of your family had shocked you. It left you frozen in your place as they all eyed you, small smiles present on their faces. There was something more to that, more to the happiness that they displayed, though you couldn’t quite catch up on what. 

Tuk was the first to pounce on you and your heart soared at her affection. You were so happy that your little sister was not in her ‘don’t touch me, don’t talk to me’ phase yet, because you would miss embracing her like this. You had gone through it as a rebellious teenager, and looking back at it made you physically recoil in cringe. 

Your eyes moved towards your brother and sister, who were both two grown young adults now. They were not much taller than they had been before leaving, though Lo’ak looked a little more muscular. Defined muscles flexing at his every move. What had shocked you the most was the tattoos that adorned your little brother’s skin. There were some under his lips, nearing his chin. The longer ones went all the way from his arms to the side of his face. You smirked at him teasingly and he could only roll his eyes playfully at your banter.

He was all grown up now and you couldn’t tease him about being your baby brother anymore. Before you could physically greet your siblings, the skinny arms of your mother had found you first. For the first time in 2 years, you had never felt more at peace than now. Mo’rata was your pillar and Sewii was your comfort but a mother’s embrace is so much more than anything else. 

 You looked back at your father that observed you, his yellow eyes widening at how more mature you looked now. You haven't even changed height or had any crazy physical change happen to you other than the change that came with bearing a child. Somehow becoming a leader had just made you look ten times older, in the best way possible. You looked wiser than the young adult that he had left behind. He simply smiled at you, approaching you to pat you on the head and you closed your eyes, trying to relish in this happiness forever. 

Unfortunately, all things are temporary and you would soon learn of this. 

You looked back to be met with the playful sight of your husband headlocking Lo’ak. They played like two brother’s and you were rejoiced to see him being acknowledged as a sibling by your own, because you know that he had not gotten to feel that during his youth. Brothers, you thought. 

You had brothers, not just a brother. 

You looked back into your mothers eyes and she seemed to have caught on to your curiosity. The previous unknown look in her eyes had seemed to triple in size at your oblivion. 

“Where is Neteyam? I have someone very important that the family must meet, but the family must be complete first.” you said to your mother and your smile soon faltered as her face remained the same. She looked back at Jake who he simply nodded at your mother. You knew that your father was never really good at anything sentimental and that your mother would always be the one to break things to y’all, so you prepared for the worst. 

Mo’rata was quick to be at your side as your mood dropped, silently standing besides you. He had an idea of what had happened and he knew that so did you. You just wanted to play into the oblivion, because maybe if you never knew then it would never be true. Maybe your mind was just being pessimistic and your brother was waiting somewhere along for him to jumpscare you. 

 “Neteyam is not with us, my dear,” your mother tried to say but her own sorrow would not allow her to wreck the heart of her oldest child. Somewhere deep inside of your heart, Neytiri knew that you were somewhat sensitive. Though you never showed it because of the emotional absence that you had lived through during your youth. Courtesy of your father for raising warriors, not children. 

She knew that when you had an argument with your father, you would secretly weep in the sheer darkness of the night. Where no one could see you. 

You breathed out a laugh at your mother’s words and she frowned at your reaction. Had you not understood, or were you mocking your brother’s departure to Eywa’s afterland. She shook her head internally, cursing herself for thinking that way of you. “He has finally found a woman huh? That’s why he has chosen not to return.” Kiri’s stomach churned at your words.

She and Tuk had not been there to witness the tragedy of your brother’s passing, and it was just as devastating to hear from afar as Quaritch announced the death of their older brother. They were somewhat glad to not have witnessed the incident, although grateful to have been able to say goodbye to their brother before he was engulfed forever unto the arms of the ocean. 

You however, had not been as lucky as them to have gotten such a chance, and the guilt would forever nag at your heart.

“He has finally found a woman that makes him happy. That’s why he’s not here.” you said and your father pitied the sight of you. The subtle quiver of your eyes held so many words that you just couldn’t express at the moment, because your throat burnt so much that you just couldn’t voice out anything more. Your mother was the first to break as she tilted her head down, reliving the fresh memories of her arrival before her firstborn son’s lifeless body.  

Your lips wavered as you looked back desperately at your husband, looking for some kind of hidden answer somewhere. You gritted your teeth before squinting your eyes at Mo’rata. “Tell me it isn’t true,” you questioned him as if he hadn’t been here with you the whole time, as if he had been there to live through what your family had. He said nothing at first, face crestfallen as he didn’t quite know how to respond to your pleas.

Before the sobbing could consume you, your husband had made it his priority to engulf you into his embrace, holding you tight against his toned body. You cried as loud as a lost viperwolf cub in search of its mother, you cried for Eywa to take the pain away from you. Tuk ran to the arms of your father, still a visibly sensitive child at heart as she couldn’t stand the sight of your mother’s and your tears. 

For a second, you had wished that you had made different decisions in your life. You had wished to have followed your family there, because then maybe you could’ve protected your brother better than you had ever done in your entire life. You could’ve saved him but you weren’t there and nothing in this world could ever change that now. 

You know that the hurt will never go away, but you know that at some point your sobbing will cease and your tears will dry. Because no matter how much you cry and beg, your brother will never return and you will live with the guilt of your decisions until the day you die. Mo’rata rubbed a hand over the back on your head, comforting himself just as much as you. Just because Neteyam wasn’t his biological brother didn't mean that he wasn’t allowed to grieve too. 

The feeling of tiny hands on your toned calf had shaken you out of your distressed state. You looked down at the sight of your concerned daughter, and you had allowed yourself to let out another breathy laugh as you spotted her. Perhaps it was because you tried to make yourself happy in this moment of sadness, you’d never know. 

You picked her up in your arms as she made grabby arms towards her father instead. Usually you would’ve faked offence but you were not in the mood to play pretend with your child at the moment. You gave her to Mo’rata and Sewii was quick to nuzzle her face in the collarbone of her father, she looked sad as well and you couldn’t help the new wave of deception that rose upon you. She was sad because you were sad, you were the cause of her dejection.

Before you could go for another round of tears, Kiri had approached you softly. She graced her hand upon your shoulder, rubbing comforting motions onto you. 

“Who's this little one?” she asked despite already having her suspicions. She would fake it for the moment though, in an attempt at easing her family. You tried to smile at her as she asked about your little family, something that you had dreamed about introducing forever. 

Sewii attempted to hide from the unwanted attention by forcing her head deeper into her dads neck. Mo’rata groaned at her force but he couldn’t get himself to be angry at her, she was just a shy little girl after all. 

“Would you like to introduce yourself, ‘ite?” you spoke softly to your daughter, and the many eyes of your family behind you widened - except for Kiri’s of course. It was obvious that the child was yours, though hearing you say it was like a truth revealer. 

Neytiri stepped forward, her cheeks now vacant of any tears as she tried her best to stay strong for her family.  

Neytiri stood before your daughter, raising a cautious hand to stroke at the shy girl’s cheeks. She visibly relaxed as she noticed that your mother was no one to be afraid of and so she slowly began to pull her head out of her fathers neck. Much to Mo’rata’s relief. You looked back at your father that was still standing awkwardly in his place, then to your siblings that had now vanished somewhere in the clan. Your father had told Kirk and Lo’ak to bring Tuk somewhere else for now, until everything was settled.

“Would you want to stay with grandma tonight, i’m sure she’d love to have you over?” you questioned Sewii as your mother moved out of the way to let you speak with your daughter. She nodded before shocking the whole of you. She extended her hands towards Neytiri, making grabby hands at her grandmother. 

Mo’rata himself seemed shocked, even though he wasn’t a man for many expressions. The creases that formed on his forehead could say everything at the moment. Neytiri on her side wasted no time grabbing Sewii from under her armpits and into her own arms. She ushered the both of you out, and so you went, peaceful minded as your daughter was safe in the arms of her grandparents. The great warriors. 

-

You had been ranting to your husband for a good 30 minutes now, though it’s not like he would complain. If he could, he'd even retrieve himself a cup of wine and listen to you talk about your sorrows like a good househusband, but he can’t, so he’ll just stick to sitting pretty in front of you. 

The moss under the both of you was soft and inviting, almost making you fight the urge to lay down on its large bed of softness. Your husband fiddled with a stray twing as his ears turned towards you, showing you that his attention was on you. He broke the twig into little pieces to entertain his fidgety fingers in the meanwhile, watching as your ears twitched each time that he did so.

“I don't understand Mo’rata, I feel like I'm failing everything and everyone,” you said, throat feeling heavy at your confession. Though you were shred that you wouldn’t cry. You couldn’t. You had emptied the whole of your body crying earlier as you grieved the fall of your younger brother, and your head still aches as the aftermath. 

Mo’rata looked at you through half-lidded eyes as you ranted to him. “First of all It has taken me a year to give you a child, then I heard about the death of my own brother.” you wavered, head tilting downwards as you drowned in self pity. 

“Maybe if we had gone with them, then we could’ve saved my little brother.” 

“Stop blaming yourself for things which you cannot help, if Eywa has decided of his fate then so be it, there was nothing that you could’ve done to undo it anyways.” his words sounded scolding, but his tone held nothing more than tenderness. He sounds anxious as he speaks, like something was physically holding him back from comforting you. Though you don’t blame him for the awkward way that his words come out, because you’re just as shitty as him at expressing your feelings. 

On a usual, that is, with him it just feels like you can rely your deepest secrets upon his shoulders. He’s like a safekeep, with a double lock and tied off with a steel chain. Like a confession post that you can confess to at any moment. 

“And stop with those deprecating thoughts, it doesn’t matter to me how long it has taken for Sewii to be conceived. What matters to me is that she’s here, a part of our growing family,” Mo’rata reproves you in his own loving way, but he means well. “Your body has done so much hard work just to carry and birth her, you should be proud of yourself.” 

He stares at your silent figure for a solid minute, his eyes unwavering as they trace your distinctive features. He thought of ways in which he could comfort you other than his awkward consolation words, and remembers how much you love it when he spills his totally unfunny jokes that you can’t help but cackle at. 

“Is it the wrong moment for me to want to kiss you?” you can’t help yourself but let out a dry laugh at his words, not that you didn’t find him funny, just that you didn’t really have the energy to. There’s a comforting smile on his lips as his ears turn inwards and towards you. 

“Maybe..” you joke back at him. “But maybe a kiss is what I need to get my head off of everything right now.” Mo’rata is quick to submit into your desires as he brings a hand up to lay upon the smoothness of your skin. 

the feeling of his warm palm resting upon your chin felt grounding, his thumb rubbing circles into your cheek. The look that your husband was giving you was filled with love, yet again when was it not? To the clan and other people, he might’ve appeared as a stern or stone cold leader, but you knew better than that, he had a hidden side for his little family. 

Oh and he was beautiful. Better looking than any men that your sister has ever tried setting you up with during your teen years. Better looking than any guy from the clan that you’ve ever had a stupid crush on, yet he was still the same guy that was outcasted because of his looks and now look at how far he has advanced. 

Mo’rata watched as your eyes strayed further from his own, instead they traced every single feature on his face. From the varying scars that went from barely noticeable to the ones that dug so far into his skin that were sure to follow him to his deathbed. He watched as your smile grew bigger once your eyes laid on his hair, clearly happy with its growth.

The first time that you had met the man, he had one long loc of hair that caged his face, while the other had seemed to have been accidently cut during one of his hunts. During the years, the awkward loc had grown, and now he looked more marvellous than ever. You had even tried to lure him into wearing matching beads with you, but he denied, saying that it would affect his mean look.

As he grew to embrace his duties more seriously, and took some more time to train his students and himself, his physique changed drastically. He was afraid that fatherhood would’ve taken a toll on his body, but clearly it failed to do so. He was so entranced and lost in his daydreaming that he had failed to notice you moving closer to him, until you pressed a peck to his cheek. It brought him back, reviving him like a flower in dire need of water after a rain session. 

His hands laid firmly on your hips as you kissed, oftentimes digging into the soft flesh with his calloused fingers. You whined desperately into his mouth as you felt him grabbing you by hips in his bruising grip, dragging you onto his lap as he sat you there. He manhandled you like you weighed nothing, like you could compare to thus of a feather. Your arms were quick to be thrown over his shoulders for stability, clasping your hands together behind his neck. 

You smiled into the kiss once you felt his hands exploring again. His fingers dug under the strings of your tweng, exploring and caressing the skin of your hips again. You tilted your head to the side for better access and everything was going perfectly. That was until you felt the soft pinch that Mo’rata had given you to the side of your body.

You gasped as you opened your mouth for a second, overtaken by the slight feeling of shock in the moment. Though your husband wasted no time as you felt his tongue slip into your mouth, smooth bastard. Battling for dominance as two switches was more entertaining than a match of mud wrestling itself. You unlatched your hands from each other and away from the nape of his neck, dragging it painfully slowly down to his chest. 

You could’ve felt him hastily sliver once your fingers reached his torso. Feather-like touch caressing the hard bed of muscle above the sculpted V-line that ran past his Tweng. The same V-line that would attract the unwanted eyes of many single na’vi women amongst the clan, but it satisfied you to know that you were the only one that could ever look further down than that. 

The tip of your fingers caressed his toned pack of abs as Mo’rata stifled his chuckle at the feeling. Mo’rata had grown so much ever since the Sully family had left for Awa’atlu. He was bulkier now, his abdominal muscles being the result of his training. His shoulders were broader now and it accentuated that tiny waist of his. 

Mo’rata was sure that having to carry his daughter 24/7 was what had been the reason for his arm muscle growth. His breath hitched as your curious hands explored his body. Even after so many years of being mated to the man, he just couldn’t get enough of your touch. 

You removed your mouth from his, much to his dismay. Though the feeling of you nipping at his neck was more the less rewarding as he craned his neck back, his head tilting backwards in pleasure. You knew his body like the back of your hand, what made him recoil of displeasure and what made his body tingle like no other. You knew him like nobody else did, his body was practically yours at this point. 

Mo’rata felt the purging need to have to be closer to him, closer than you physically could. You continued your assault on his neck, leaving a trail of faint hickeys on his neck. You kissed the underside of his jaw, assaulting his jawline with your mouth. You could feel his loincloth tightening right under you, and you grinned at the feeling. 

Being a parent and a chief meant having less time to spend like this with the other, so you’d be sure to make the best of your time tonight. It didn’t matter if you went until sunrise and returned at sunset, your daughter was in the safe hands of your family. You knew that she was already fond of your family anyways, despite it being the first time that she has ever met them in her 2 years of existing, but she could always go back to the warm arms of her great-grandmother if she wanted to. 

“Stop worrying so much, y’know she’s probably having fun with Tuk right now.” Mo’rata whispers in your ear as though he could read right through your thoughts, his voice was raspy and it dripped with impatience and desires. You could feel his warm breath hitting the side of your face as his fingertips ghosted your sides while he ran his hands up and down, awaiting for you to come back to your senses. 

You could only laugh at his desperate sight before snaking your arms over his shoulders, your hands gliding from his neck and onto the start of the hairs at the lower back. He grunted as you grabbed a handful of his locs, pulling the twists of fine hairs between your fingers roughly. His ears folded upright as you continued pressing toothy kisses onto his exposed neck.

You didn’t want to leave too much because you’d have to return to your family afterwards, and you and your brother were always known for teasing your parents when they’d come back home after a date night. Now you imagined that he could only do the same to you, considering that your little brother has always been a living menace. The feeling of your fangs nipping at his skin was sending him over the edge, and Mo’rata swore that he’d have you reaching for the stars again tonight. 

-

The walk back home was nonetheless relaxing and it reminded you of the many times that Mo’rata had walked you home during your teenage years. His squinted eyes watched as you played with the surrounding nature like a child, and he found himself reminiscing of the moments where he could allow himself to be so carefree along your side. 

Things were different now, you had both aged and you had more responsibilities than any other clan member upon your shoulders. As parents and clan leaders, this short-lived night was more than what you could’ve ever dreamed of. 

Being formally greeted in the village was something that you had gotten used to since birth, being a Sully and all, but it was a whole new concept to your mate. Surely new means since 3 years ago, but it was still new. You both passed by feasting village men and women who offered you a place in their family circles for dinner, and your heart warmed at the act.

Though you both had your own family to attend, so you politely denied the offers. It was nice to see everyone getting along so nicely and it surely saved Mo’rata from his olo’eyktan duties of having to separate stupid men from fighting each other to death. With your hand tightly holding his, you both entered the tent that harboured your little family. 

Your family tried their best to ignore the light marks on your husband's neck, but Lo’ak just couldn’t help himself and make a silent joke about it to himself. Like the one time that he had nicknamed you Dracula, a fictional character that he had found in one of the human’s books, widely known for his neck biting antics.

Without missing the disgusted and knowing looks that your little siblings threw at you, except for the all innocent Tuk. She was now 11, and you feared the instance where those stupid boys would ruin her pure mind with the mindless things that they say. Needless to say that the first thing you felt amongst entering the tent was the feeling of a small body crashing into yours, a little head stuffing itself wherever it could reach. 

And that being unfortunately your poor

kneecaps. 

You reached down to the obvious little person being your daughter, given that Tuk now reached just below your upper chest. Sewii was quick to nuzzle into your chest as she pressed the feathers uncomfortably into your skin, but could you really blame her when she looked so adorable? 

“No hugs for dad? How unfair.” you heard the scruffy voice of your own father from behind, and Sewii was quick to throw grabby hands at her dad. She didn’t want him to feel left out, but she’d always have a soft spot for her mother. You chuckled lightly as Mo’rata took her effortlessly into his arms, resting your daughter on his hips with one strong arm. You’d have other times to gnaw about the way his muscles rippled with the way he positioned his arm, for now you had a family to entertain. 

“I see that parenthood has found you well?” your mother now spoke, rather to your mate than to the both of you. Neytiri brought a piece of the fruit that she was eating up to her mouth, sticky juices running down her arm before she could even stop it. 

“It’s exhausting, but…” Mo’rata trailed off before your entire family, afraid of revealing his feelings out loud to everyone. Surely had fatherhood been a way different routine then his usual one, not that it was unexpected. During the first year that you had brought Sewii on this planet, she had been nothing more than a living menace. Between her raging mood swings and the fact that she just felt the need to wake the both of you up by wailing in the middle of the night was excruciating. 

But the moments in which he’d get to go back home after a long day, only to be welcomed by the sight of your daughter waiting patiently for him while you prepared for the night's meal was more than gratifying. For so long had Mo’rata dreamed of such domesticity, even though he wouldn’t verbally express it. 

After getting rejected for the first time by a woman he once liked, he believed that there weren’t many options of a future life laid out for him. Sure it might’ve seemed like he was just overly dramatic, but it was just so hard to fit in when he was so different. He was scarred both physically and mentally and rejection was practically a word that was engraved in his vocabulary. 

Not many women had ever looked his way, not when he was littered in war scars and had a permanent frown gracing his features. He was a walking dark cloud, and he passed off as rude even to people who he had never even interacted with. Then he met you, the certain Sully that had changed his life for the better. The person that had given him the loving family that he had always secretly dreamt of. He loves you more than his words can describe, and he would go to the world's ends for you. 

Unbeknownst to you, your mother was staring dead at you as you interacted with your daughter from her father’s lap. The men in the tent were too busy talking on and about to even notice her sudden silence. Neytiri was undeniably proud of how far you had grown, and how much you had earned for yourself. She knew that it was no easy task, because she had once been tsakarem just as she was still a mother. 

She was glad that Eywa had finally blessed you with a child of your own, because even if she wouldn’t admit it out loud, there was always this subtle fear that the Great-Mother wouldn’t give you her blessings. For whatever reason, it didn’t mean that you weren’t deserving of one, Eywa just has different paths for everyone. 

“What are these on your face, brother?” you ask Lo’ak, and the whole room turns to him. Your brother’s ears falter for a second as all eyes turn to him, before he pulls himself together. 

“These are my iknimaya tattoos.” you watch with curious eyes as Lo’ak points towards the sleeve tattoos that run all the way up his both arms. Your own ears raise for a second at the word. 

“So you’re a man now?” you beam, happy for your little brother. For his whole life, he had been seen as some immature little boy by the people around him. It made you happy that he finally decided to pull his head out of his ass and prove to everyone that he is a worthy warrior. Mo’rata himself can't even stop his own smile from showing, though it’s more subtle than anything. 

For a minute, the tent is filled with nothing more than a comfortable silence. Other than Sewii’s baby babble, you all enjoy your meal in the casted quietness. 

“The ones on my face here, is to show my mateship.” Lo’ak boasts loudly, his pointer finger directing your eyes towards the top left of his forehead. Your family watched with amusement as yours and Mo’rata’s eyes widened comically at the news. Though it wasn’t that surprising because he had reached the age of 18 now, you knew that the Metkayina had a tendency at doing everything earlier anyways. 

oh, and it clicked in your head. This is the perfect moment for you to get revenge at all of the times that he had teased you about Mo’rata. 

“Sooo…,” you moved closer towards your brother, throwing an arm over his shoulders as you pulled him towards you. The mischievous glint in your eyes didn’t go unnoticed by your keen husband, and he grinned to himself at your undying playfulness. “I haven’t even met my sister-in-law yet, so make sure that I don't catch you with my niece or nephew when I do meet her.” 

The tip of your brother’s ear immediately flushed to a purplish colour at your insinuation. Jake only rolled his eyes at your sibling’s banter, not being able to scold you both for your crudeness now that you were both adults. 

“So what is she like?” your husband asked, startling you all as he awakened from his silence. Lo’ak tilted his head to the side as he looked at your husband in pure puzzlement, before the gears seemed to have finally turned in his head, and inevitably got stuck again. He was just stupid. Your good old stupid brother. 

 “Your woman I mean, i’m afraid that she’s another troublemaker like you my brother. That’ll make your father’s hair fall off faster.” your mate joked, accent thick as he accentuated his words. His tone held no malice, no venom in its syllables, and it told you that he didn’t really care if Lo’ak’s mate actually could be another little gremlin just like him. 

He treated your siblings like his own family, teased them and took care of them like a real brother. Eventually, the whole tent erupted into laughter at his joke, before Lo’ak reassured him that it was not the case. On the contrary, he explained that his lover kept him grounded if anything. Tsireya sounded like a good woman to you, and you couldn’t wait for the day that you’d get to meet your new sister. 

Eventually everyone came down as your daughter fell asleep in her father’s arms. Her body was limp and it looked like her neck would crack at any moment from her weird position, but she was comfortable like this so what could you do? Her face was resting against Mo’rata’s chest, chubby cheeks squished together in a drooling mess that you couldn’t help but chuckle at. 

You’d spent a good amount of the night gossiping and weaving with your little sisters as they now laid unmoving on their temporary hammocks. Even your parents looked the more exhausted, the trip must’ve messed with them pretty badly. Your little family wished them all a goodnight before moving back to your own home, not all that far away from theirs. 

You were just as tired as you reach your tent, and Mo’rata being the amazing husband that he was had volunteered to prepare your daughter for bed. You were already laying on the big hammock in the middle of the room when Mo’rata had arrived with the sleeping Sewii in his arms. It was like an immediate reflex to wrap your arm around his upper torso as he laid down on his back besides you. 

One of his arms was placed under your head as a pillow as you laid on your side, enjoying the sight of your daughter peacefully placed onto his stomach. She drooled still, but it didn’t seem to disturb him much. He’d gone through much worse as a warrior, a little baby slobber was nothing to him. His other hand rubbed warmth onto the small of Sewii’s back, keeping her heated up for the night. 

It was silent around, darkness enveloping the land if not for the bladder lantern spread across the village. 

Closing your eyes, you tried to sleep for the night and put everything that had happened today in the past. Your day was truly an eventful day, filled with heartbreak and longing highs. The heartbreaking loss of your brother was still there, fresh and uncovered as you laid in the comfort of your family’s presence. Even if it had not been spoken of ever since the moment of your breakdown, it still ran wild through your mind. 

It was like you were being punished for all the wrongs that you had committed during your life. Fresh just as old memories of your brother replayed through your head, leaving you to feel empty at the end of each. They spiral repetitively in your mind, like a broken loop of haunting memories. And you felt unable to open your eyes, like Eywa herself was forcing you to take it all in. Forcing you to accept that the brother that you used to spoon-feed would no longer be there at your wake. 

You were shaken awake at the sudden feeling of some warm fingers upon your cheek. Though your vision was blurry from the tears, you knew by the size of the palm that it could be no one else but your husband. His thumb ran across your cheekbone, rubbing the fresh tears away, moistening your skin. You could faintly distinguish a little smile on his face, not one of derision or amusement, but one filled with condolence and solace. 

A wobbly smile of your own made its way onto your face as you leaned into his palm, closing your eyes once more as you seeped into a filling void of darkness. But the memories didn’t stop coming in, and your tears failed to stop as they drenched your husband's fingers that laid unmoving on your cheek. Though the smile on your relaxed face contradicted your tears. You were just happy to see your brother for a few final moments, even if it was simply in your mind. 

You wanted to take advantage of the moment where you could still see him, before his face disappeared from your memory bank and became nothing more than a blurry mess as you grow older. You felt your husband press a chaste kiss onto your cheekbone before his breathing levelled out, and the images of your brother completely faded out as you succumbed into slumber. 

You were happy as you fell asleep. Happy because your family was safe and there with you, Neteyam was safe in the Great-Mother’s hands. You were content because you knew that you’d always cherish your brother, even if he wasn’t here with you to do so physically anymore, even if one day you wouldn’t be able to make up a picture of him in your head anymore. You were happy. 

-

taglist:

@neteyamforlife @ssc7514 @iloveavatar @killinqpills @ilovejakesullysdick @liyahsocorro @sujekie @zaddyneteyamlovergirl @miawastakens @onlytays @junnniiieee07 @mashiromochi @rinloversworld @kadu-5607 @hai-kbai

#neteyam x reader #jake sully x reader #neteyam x sister!reader #jake sully x daughter!reader #jake sully x daughter #sully!reader #neytiri x reader #lo’ak x reader #atwow #avatar #avatar 2 #neteyam sully #avatar oneshot #kiri sully x reader #jake sully #lo’ak x sister!reader #neytiri x daughter!reader

[waywardducks]

I just can't stop thinking about the idea of y/n and Jason having a meet-cute in a bookstore! It's so cozy and sweet. I’ve had this idea in my head for days now.

CW: Fluff, a bit OOC, mentions of fighting and of Jason’s death, Gn reader

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Jason was fighting with Bruce, which meant Jason would not be going to the manor for the next few weeks. At least not until one of the men decided to give in and apologize. Which would be a while this time. Usually, when it is Jason’s fault his brothers will talk him into apologizing and help him recognize where he was wrong. But this time Bruce is wrong. Meaning no one, not even Alfred will be able to get this man to pull his head out of his ass. Maybe they could if Jason fought hard enough, and threw enough hard-hitting insults to breach the stony exterior that is Batman. But Jason doesn’t feel like breaking his own heart right now, so he’s opting for the long run, waiting (im)patiently as far from Batman as possible. Bruce will come back and apologize eventually when the silence and lack of his second son start feeling too close to when Jason was dead. When memories start to surface grief begins to overwhelm the man.

For now, though, Jason is content to sit in his apartment and read. The only real downside is that the book he had been reading was currently still in the manor’s library. Technically Jason could just ask one of his siblings to retrieve it for him, but he’s still hurt from his fight with his father and doesn’t feel like doing something vulnerable, like asking for help.

So he heads to the bookstore. He’s been to this particular bookstore a million times. It’s cozy, nestled on the edge of Blüdhaven, close to the border. Sometimes Jason would head to Dick’s apartment afterwards, since he was in his brother’s neighborhood. The shop has a little cafe area, indoor and outdoor seating, a covered patio with a couch that Jason enjoyed sitting on when it was raining.

A bell chimes his arrival as he entered the small shop.

“Welcome in!” An older woman greets from behind the counter.

Jason gives the woman a smile before making his way to the Shakespeare section. He began browsing the titles, trying to find the exact one he was looking for.

The bell chimes and again, but Jason paid it no real mind, only acknowledging that a third person was now in the store.

“Oh! Y/n. How lovely to see you again.” The woman at the front exclaims.

“Hey Mrs Goodmen! How’ve you been?” The newcomer asked.

“Just perfect, thank you for asking dear. What brings you in today?”

“I need a new copy of a book I love. I let my friend borrow it a year ago and I don't think I'm getting it back.”

“Well, you go find it, let me know if you need any help, okay?”

“Of course, thank you!”

There was silence again as the person began browsing aisles. Jason smiled as he found the book he was looking for. He pulled it off the shelf and began flipping through the pages.

“Oh, how funny.” A voice startles Jason out of his skimming and he looks up. It was the person that had been talking the lady.

“What's funny?” Jason asked, closing his book.

“That's the book I was looking for.” They say, pointing at paperback in Jason’s hands.

Jason smiles. “Oh, that is funny.”

“Great minds think alike.” The person jokes. “I'm Y/n, by the way.”

“Jason. Nice to meet you.”

“You too!”

Jason watches as Y/n grabs a copy of the same book off the shelf.

“I've read this like 8 times now. I'm planning on actually annotating it this time. It's just so good. Oh! I should check to see if they have that new book I wanted to read.” Y/n mumbles.

Jason thinks it's cute how distracted they got all of a sudden. They themselves were cute. The oversized sweater they’re wearing, the concentrated look on their face as they search for the book they need, even the way their hair looks like they just rolled out of bed.

Jason pulls a small notebook out of his pocket and writes his name and number on it quickly. He doesn’t normally do this sort of thing, maybe it was because this person had similar taste in reading. Jason isn't sure, but he did know that this person is cute and he wants to get to know them.

“Are you a Shakespeare fan?” Y/n asks all of a sudden.

Jason chuckles. “I suppose you can say that. Though I suppose I'm more of a classical literature fan.”

Y/n smiles a bit wider at that. “Me too! I especially love Greek mythology and Gothic romance. Oh! They do have it! Perfect, I've been so excited for this one!” Y/n plucks a book off the shelf and does a triumphant little twirl.

Jason takes note of the book in her hand. “Biography of Mary Casset?”

Y/n shows Jason the books. “Yep! She was an impressionist painter whose main focus was on the relationships between mother and child. She also used traditional Chinese printing methods. She was a hardcore feminist and never stopped even after facing backlash for being a female artist in a male-dominated industry. I adore her.”

Jason can't help but stare at Y/n as they gushed over the artist. The way they ramble and are so passionate about it has his heart beating a lot faster all of a sudden.

“She sounds pretty fucking cool. I might need to grab me a copy of that as well.” He says. “Oh yeah, said you wanted to annotate this book,” he lifts the book that brought them both here in the first place. “We should get together sometime, compare notes maybe?”

Y/n blushes. “Yeah. That sounds like a lot of fun.” They smile brightly.

“Awesome! Here, take this.” Jason hands them the paper with his number on it. “Text me, we’ll make it a date?”

Y/n’s blush darkens. “Of course! I, uh, maybe a cafe or something? I’ll, umm, I'll have to check and see when I'm free.” They stammer as they carefully place the paper in their bag.

“Perfect. I'll be waiting to hear from you then.” Jason winks before turning and walking to the counter. He checks out and makes his way back to his apartment.

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What do y'all think? I tried to keep the book nondescript but then went I ranted too hard about Mary Casset. My bad. I hope that my little explanation at the end there makes up for how ooc Jay is. Let me know if you want more! Feel free go request and give a prompt as well! I love writing and I want to do more of it!

Also, I apologize for any mistakes. I have major Dyslexia and Grammarly doesn't always fix everything. I hope you Enjoyed! 🌼🐛

#batman #dc comics #tim drake #jason todd #dick grayson #batfam #bruce wayne #red robin #aesthetic #damien wayne #jason todd x y/n #drabble #jason todd x you #jason Todd x reader #I love him

[dxnbeez]

the king (2)

summary: jungkook has to face his father's fury, but he may not have understood things as they actually were

pairing: jungkook x f!reader royal!au

words: 4k

warnings: none, except maybe serious family issues and a very exalted queen

note: hi guys! thank u all for the support on the first part! i'm not sure if i'll have dates for updates since i'm still writing this fic and inspiration just comes in waves some times¿? but i will try to be consistent! so i hope you guys enjoy this part and i hope to read you! feedback is always appreciated! see u next time <3

part 1

Jeon Jungkook had never thrown a tantrum since he was eight years old. His teaching was so strict being the heir to the throne that he had had to learn to tolerate many things and put up with others from an early age. Understanding the weight of what it entailed to be born with the title of “Crown Prince” had been one of the things that had taken him the least amount of time to grasp, but which he always questioned in the solitude of his room.

Jungkook had surprised his parents, understanding from a very young age the implications of his position and the responsibilities he was to assume in the future. That knowledge made him grow up lacking in many things, but with advantages in many others. By owning that awareness, Jungkook understood the weight on his parents' shoulders and knew that they must've had a difficult enough life for him to bother them with his childish mundanities. So that's how he grew up, for many years, trying to make life easy for his parents.

Usually, his mother used to use him as an example to his younger sisters on how to behave according to the title they held. His sisters never envied him, they really loved him, but Jungkook knew how much they hated not being able to live their childhood like all the other kids in town. And he hated that too, that they couldn't experience it, but he was relieved just to know that the big burden was on him and not on them. Expectations were always placed on him, the Crown Prince, the next King, and not on the princesses who only wanted to enjoy their life and childhood in the big castle. Still, Jungkook sometimes didn't understand why his mother demanded so much from his sisters when they hadn't grown up with the knowledge he was given. He hated the nights when Suni, the youngest of them all, would sneak into his room at night or search for him in the great Palace garden because eomma had forbidden her to keep stuffed animals in her room or because she got mad at her when she asked for more food at dinner.

Jungkook, for a long time, tried to make his parents' life a little easier.

But it infuriated him to think that they made his sisters' lives difficult in return.

So, for a change, Jungkook started throwing tantrums.

The first time he remembered it as lucidly as if it had been yesterday.

It was a sunny day in the square when he had gone out with his parents and two of his sisters. Their parents had dawned in a strangely good mood, so much so that they had decided to have a little family walk in the central point of town. Jungkook went with one of his sisters, Hari, making funny faces at his younger sister, Suni, behind his parents' backs, causing the little girl to laugh loudly. They were having such a peaceful and happy time that Jungkook couldn't believe it.

That is, until Suni saw one of the wooden toys they were selling in the square and began to pull her mother's hand. Hari and Jungkook stood silently, frozen, walking quietly behind their parents as they watched their little sister stir and pull harder and harder on the Queen's hand. They could barely go unnoticed… when Suni began to cry.

Jungkook bit his tongue, and had the urge to move forward to grab his sister and take her back to the Palace, but Hari's hand wrapped around his arm kept him sane. Jungkook hadn't been through a situation like that, precisely why his parents didn't often go out with their children, so he had no idea how his parents would react.

The Queen continued walking, almost dragging her little daughter who wouldn't let go of her hand. People passing by her were barely able to give them a glance, hurrying their pace when the Queen's eyes fell on them. The square had fallen into a dull silence that was perturbed only by Suni's sobs.

Hari squeezed Jungkook's arm tighter as the Queen turned her face away to look at Suni, and they both watched their mother's tense face, no longer welcoming and peaceful as they had seen her in the morning. She was now only the Queen and Suni, her own daughter, was trying her patience.

The King walked silently by her side, not even bothering to try to calm his daughter or show his wife patience. He lived in his own world.

Jungkook felt a hand clutch around his throat as the Queen began to tug on her little sister's arm, to get her to walk back to her side without crawling.

He didn't think twice as he began to speak, and Hari's hand tightened around his arm.

“Eommoni,” Jungkook elongated his voice, a hint of weariness and exhaustion ringing in the Queen's ears. The woman barely glanced over her shoulder at him, and Jungkook took it upon himself to keep his face irritated like his sister Hari did when she had to eat paprika. “Suni is making too much noise and my head hurts.”

His little sister turned to look at him, her eyes red and cheeks drenched in tears. Her little eyes rolled down his face and she had one of her hands almost inside her mouth, as many babies did when crying. Jungkook could never shake that habit that his mother hated, no matter how much he told her it was normal.

“Can't we go home already?” Jungkook continued, shuffling his feet. Hari was as want as a stone beside him.

“Jungkook,” the King's voice was heard, a silent warning.

A shiver ran through the two brothers walking arm in arm, but Jungkook didn't budge.

“It's getting too sunny, besides, and I'm dying of thirst. Let's go now.”

The King stopped and the whole family along with him. Suni was now sobbing quietly, she seemed to be calming down at the sound of her brother's voice, but tears still streamed down her face.

“Enough,” the King bellowed, turning around to stare at Jungkook. “You are demonstrating unacceptable behavior for the Crown Prince,” he spat, then turned his face to look at the Queen and Suni, “Let's go now.”

Suni let go of her mother's hand and stood in front of her father raising her arms towards him with a grimace that made one think she was nothing short of destroying the mountains with a scream. The King sighed, but took her in his arms. Snuggling into her father's neck, Suni finally closed her eyes.

“I hope you are satisfied, Jungkook,” his father spoke again. “You'll see what awaits you at home.”

The King's punishment had been harsh, as usual, but Jungkook was glad he had used his influence over his parents because, the next day, Suni was in the family dining room with the wooden toy in her hands.

Thus, Jungkook began a streak of manipulation against his parents to ease his sisters' lives. Since they were always more concerned about the Crown Prince's behavior, it was easier to divert his sisters' attention to him.

And to this day, Jungkook hadn't stopped doing so. Every day with more reasons, with different arguments, even if it cost him his life. He wouldn't stop. For them… and for him.

He raised his head as the doors to the great hall opened and a familiar face peered between them. The King's Counselor was striding toward him, hands loosely at his sides, dark blue uniform neatly arranged and a calm expression on his face. Jungkook knew him better than he let on, though, and knew those eyes incited nothing but reproach.

“You're in deep trouble,” was what Kim Seokjin said as soon as he reached his side, his gaze hard but his eyes soft, concerned.

“I know.”

“The way you confronted the Queen…”

“I know.”

“She's never going to let you leave this palace.”

Jungkook twisted his lips and focused his gaze on anything else within the room. Since he had arrived at the Palace, walking shoulder to shoulder with his mother, with the Queen, the two of them split their path and Jungkook had wandered off to a quiet place in the Palace thinking that the argument would end there; that his mother would ignore him for days and make his life miserable while his father watched. But the King arrived within minutes and sent for them both to the meeting room.

Jungkook had been waiting there for about ten minutes, thinking about what they could talk about, what kind of punishment the King wanted to give him, what kinds of poisonous words his mother was going to spit out, when the counselor arrived.

“If I hadn't gone, she would've- she would've given the order and…”

He pressed his lips together in a line. The paltry thought that hovered in his head at the possibility chilled the blood throughout his body. The shiver that ran through him made him grateful he'd had the chance, but reminded him that from now on he had to tiptoe around his mother.

“Your mother wanted a show. She didn't want to kill her, she wanted to humiliate her. Destroy her honor, like she thought she had done to her, to the Jeon family name.”

“That's stupid,” Jungkook spat, anger rebirthing like flames inside his chest. “No one would've ever found out if it weren't for what she did. Now everyone will be talking about it. For weeks.”

“That's true. It was not a calculated move, the Queen acted through her anger. And the consequences will be severe.”

“And you'll hear her already, blaming me for everything. As always.”

Seokjin gave him a sympathetic look, his body leaning against the table in the center of the room. He had known Jungkook since the Prince had turned 15 and since then it had been very hard for him to keep his distance when Jungkook started seeing him and coming to him like a brother. Seokjin knew how hard life had been for the Prince, even if he didn't notice it, even if he had normalized living that way, even if he had become accustomed to the mistreatment. Seokjin saw through those eyes the longing of his inner child, the desire to be free to do whatever he wanted, whatever he couldn't do before.

The counselor had been a pimp, if he had to admit it. He couldn't give him or let him do many things without his parents, the King and Queen, finding out, and both of them being punished for it. Still, he tried to support him in every way he could, like excusing him when he wanted to leave the palace alone for a walk, or accompanying him to have his first beer at Fresh Air; it was almost a tradition in town for older brothers to take their younger siblings to try their first alcoholic drink at that bar, to share those moments together.

Just as he had been in so many stages of his life, he knew Jungkook had been taking too many chances the past few months. Years, even. Seokjin would allow himself to cut him a little slack whenever he could, help him with excuses to breathe easy, but he constantly wondered how long he could be walking quietly on a tightrope. How long it would be before the Queen's sharp actions would cut off that tiny thread of hope that Jungkook had been moving on for some time.

“Have you heard about Hari and Suni?” the voice of Jungkook boomed in the silence, a few seconds after he had uttered the last words. Seokjin raised his head to look at him.

“They were on their way, very close. They should arrive today in the afternoon or during the night.”

The Prince nodded, faint lines crossing his forehead.

“Good thing they weren't around to witness all this.”

“I don't think they can escape the days ahead,” Seokjin mused and Jungkook bowed his head in a nod, a grimace akin to helplessness crossing his expression. “And more so when the King sent for you two. He must be furious.”

“The calm he showed in the square was only the sheet of ice containing his anger. I doubt we'll make it out of this room alive,” Jungkook felt a shudder run through his body as he remembered the look his father gave the Queen when he ordered him back to the Palace with her. His mother was scary, yes, people were right to fear her, the anger was always evident and furrowed her expression without self-consciousness to the world. But his father was not, the King was better known for having an icy rage, for having a frightening calmness when anger coursed through his veins. His mother might be dangerous, but the King was lethal.

“Jimin and Yoongi tried to come as soon as they heard, but the royal guard barred their way. They were practically locked in the guest room,” Seokjin remarked as he remembered the looks of both men on the other side of the room. The door was open when Seokjin was crossing the hall and two royal guards were guarding it, as if they were some mercenaries who did not deserve any good treatment. He knew it had been the Queen's order.

Jungkook's beady eyes fell into disbelief when he heard the counselor's words. It must have been his mother's command, he thought rightly as he held back the urge to smash his palm against the walnut wood table.

Away from the fog of anger that had consumed his mind the past few hours, Jungkook took a moment to breathe. He hated what his mother had done, but he knew his friends were fine. But she…

“Did you hear anything on the way here?” Jungkook inquired, and Seokjin promptly knew what he meant.

“Nothing, everything was scattered when I arrived.”

A whiplash of fear and panic surged through Jungkook's chest. Not many times had he felt that kind of terror, the kind he thought he could only feel in his nightmares. And Seokjin knew the Prince must be dying of uncertainty inside, because he didn't bother in the least to disguise the emotions that traveled across his face.

“She should be fine,” the counselor assured him, though his words were an empty promise. “The King may turn out to be more merciful than you think.”

Seokjin didn't know if the King's mercy went that far, but he wanted to convince himself with his own words, for he wouldn't know how broken the already fractured family bond in that Palace would be if the opposite were true.

He didn't have much time to continue rambling when the sound of quickened footsteps began to echo from the hallway. Seokjin broke away from the table and approached the white wall, carved with lines on its columns, arches over the smooth walls, and undulating figures at the births of them.

The large oval doors of dark wood opened wide and the King entered without hesitation, the Queen walking behind him. At that moment, Jungkook didn't want to see them as father and mother. From the looks they were both giving him, the Prince almost felt that he would be the next to have a trial.

When the Queen was standing right in front of Jungkook across the table, the doors closed with a barely audible sound, and the room was taken over by thunderous silence.

“May I ask, what was on your mind?”

Jungkook didn't turn his gaze to the King. It was disrespectful not to look at him when he spoke, he knew it, every villager knew it, more so him being his son. But maybe he wasn't as prepared for that meeting as he thought he was. He didn't want to take the blame for something that wasn't a crime. Because he hadn't hurt anyone. Because…

“Are you talking to me?” the Queen's voice interrupted his train of thought, and he allowed himself at that moment to raise his head.

The King was watching his wife, who had a surprised grimace on her face in contrast to her father's impassive and cold look, the typical and familiar one.

“What were you thinking going out to do all this, Hyori?”

Seokjin didn't hide the astonishment that took over his face when he heard the King call the Queen by her proper name. It shouldn't be something to be missed, but he and Jungkook were used to formalities between the two supreme figures in front of them. That his father decided to set aside his formality to speak to the Queen in such a manner spoke too much of the anger he held in his heart.

“Why are you directing your anger against me? I wasn't the one who caused all this.”

Jungkook watched the Queen's frown, her face contracted in skepticism. She had adopted a defensive posture, truly offended at being the target of the King's anger.

“You were the one who caused all this,” the King nodded with anger rising in the glint in his eyes. “If you hadn't gone out and made all that fuss, we wouldn't be going through all this right now.”

“But what are you talking about?” the Queen exclaimed, and when she raised her voice Jungkook shrank back in his seat. He shot a glance at Seokjin, but it seemed that the counselor was just as confused as he was. “What don't you see that the reason for the fuss is sitting on the other side of the table?”

Jungkook didn't have to turn his head to know that his mother was pointing at him with a furious glare. But the King didn't even spare the Prince a glance when he responded:

“Stop pointing at your son like that,” he mumbled through his teeth, venom surrounding every word.

A sound of disbelief left the Queen, with a stupefied chuckle following her as she approached the King at a slow pace.

“Do you have any idea what your son did? What that woman wanted to do to our family?”

Jungkook gritted his teeth, his hands gathering on the wood of the table.

“And do you have any idea what that theatrics just cost our reputation? I had to meet with the high consorts immediately. They're not very happy with what you did.”

The Queen snorted not believing for a second that she was the one getting all the scolding and yelling and not Jungkook. Seokjin, secretly, wasn't too upset about it.

“Are you defending him?”

It was the King's turn to break through the icy mask, irritability seeping through his gut.

“What Jungkook did was minimal compared to what your show cost us. The high consorts are reconsidering their offers. They don't think it's very good for their public image to do business with a Queen who still does public executions.”

“They are not forbidden in our nation.”

“No,” the King nodded, “But they will be.”

Jungkook didn't disguise the gasp of surprise that left his mouth. Was he really hearing those words from his father…? The Queen spluttered, and the Prince turned to see her face contracted in astonishment… in betrayal.

“What your son and that woman did is unacceptable.”

“What Jungkook did or didn't do is what matters least,” the King mumbled, his glacial eyes roaming over his wife's face that would not leave her stupefaction.

“What are you saying? He was courting-!”

“I don't care,” the King repeated, his words stronger, more concise. “As long as it doesn't affect the Crown, what Jungkook does outside this palace doesn't matter to me.”

Thunderous silence followed his words. Seokjin watched everyone present with utmost caution from his position. He might be a simple counselor, but he knew some self-defense tactics. Meanwhile, Jungkook was totally speechless. His gaze wandered over his father and then shifted to his mother's stunned look, an expression that hadn't left her since the King began speaking.

“You can't do that. You can't just not care…” the Queen was shaking her head in refusal, refusing to accept the words she heard from her husband's mouth. “You can't turn a blind eye to-”

“I already did,” the King spoke again and Jungkook did not miss the way his eyes averted for less than a second. The way he looked at him, the sad gleam in his eyes. Or well, sad was what he seemed to have seen, because the King's expression changed so quickly that Jungkook might have thought he had imagined it, if not for what he said next, “I already had.”

“What are you talking about?”

The Prince felt a hand squeeze his heart, trying to stifle it, to keep him conscious long enough to survive, but using just enough strength to feel death close. His lips parted as he watched the father who wouldn't look back at him, who was staring harshly at his mother as the only true culprit in this whole mess. No, the problem wasn't that Jungkook was trusting, not that he stopped paying attention, not that he had let his guard down…

“You knew,” Jungkook spoke for the first time. His voice came out slightly hoarse, his beady, disbelieving eyes glinting in the natural sunlight as his father gave him a neutral, dry, emotionless look.

“What?” the Queen's head turned sharply toward her husband, her eyes exaggeratedly wide.

Without looking away from his son, the King spoke, “Did you really think there was anything you could do in the Palace that I wouldn't know about?”

Almost out of sad inertia, with a whiplash of pain in his chest, Jungkook shook his head at the counselor. Seokjin half-opened his lips in surprise, but shook his head in a negative as he felt the deer eyes on him.

“Counselor Kim has nothing to do here,” the King spoke, his gaze still on the Prince.

“Your Majesty-” Seokjin tried to speak, but the King raised a hand in his direction.

“Not now,” his stern gaze was still on Jungkook, but he promptly turned back to stare at the Queen who seemed not to credit what she saw.

“You knew and… you allowed it?” the Queen's voice was barely a whisper, surprise taking all her breath away.

“I told you, she was never a threat to the Crown.”

“She wasn't a threat, she was a gold digger! She wanted all the riches Jungkook could give her!”

The Prince gnashed his teeth. His bite was so hard that it strained his jaw and a slight pain ran through his gums. He wanted his mother to stop talking that way, expressing herself that way, he wanted to say something to her, anything…

“That's what you made it sound like, making all this fuss. Now there's really no way of knowing,” the King replied impassively, though several muscles in his face were already beginning to retract.

“She was going to steal from us,” the Queen exclaimed in utter conviction.

“She was going to do no such thing,” Jungkook blurted out, his hand clenched on the table and the Queen's eyes exorbitant as she turned to see him as he answered her thus. It was an impulse, but he had done it, and though his instinct was to shrink from her gaze, he faced her and continued speaking. “She never tried to take advantage of me. She is a kind, loving, honest and a humble soul. All she wanted for me was happiness.”

The Queen snorted, interrupting him, and his assurance flanked. Jungkook didn't feel he was over, but the King took the floor again:

“You're going to have to apologize to his mother.”

“What?”

“I'm not going to bear such an embarrassment to someone who has provided us with her services.”

“I'm not going to do-”

“You will. And the next time you intend to bring a trial against someone, Counselor Kim will be only too pleased to give you a few lessons in law.”

And with that, the King left the room.

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