#Electric field intensity

[suretrust]

Electric field intensity

ELECTRIC FIELD INTENSITY FREE

ELECTRIC FIELD INTENSITY CRACK

So, we can observe that, for a given number of ampere-turns, the magnetizing force varies inversely per unit length of the magnetic path. the force a proton would experience there. Find the value of Ex and Hy at t 100ns and z 3.6m. In physics, the intensity or flux of radiant energy is the power transferred per unit area, where the area is measured on the plane perpendicular to the.

ELECTRIC FIELD INTENSITY FREE

We can calculate the intensity using following formula: The electric field intensity at a point in a vacuum is equal to: 1. Question: Electric field intensity vector in free space is given as E 20me-j0.21ax. L =average length of the magnetic path in metersįind the magnetic field intensity in the magnetic circuit shown below: The letter symbol for magnetizing force (magnetic field intensity) is H. The quantity E is directly proportional to the quantity Q and inversely proportional to the square. Electric field intensity ( E) depends on (translate as 'is affected by') two variables - the amount of charge on the source charge ( Q) and the distance ( d) from the source charge.

ELECTRIC FIELD INTENSITY CRACK

Also, I will teach you the easy way to crack any numerical o. The electric field intensity ( E) is the force per charge - F/q. Of primary concern, however, is the magnetomotive force needed to establish a certain flux density, B in a unit length of the magnetic circuit. In this animated lecture l, I will teach you about electric field and electric fields intensity. The change of space charge density with applied voltage and air pressure is opposite to the change of electric field.Magnetic field intensity is also known as the magnetizing force which is measured is ampere-turns per meter (A-t/m). In addition, the SEF intensity has a decreasing trend with the applied voltage rising after corona initiates, and rises slightly with the increase of air pressure. And a linear negative correlation between the space charge density and the SEF intensity after the corona initiates is found for the first time. The most important finding in this work is that when the voltage gradient is greater than the onset voltage, contrary to popular perception, SEF is not a fixed value and lower than the onset field intensity. If you suspect that you need panel replacing, our experts will come out to examine your system, understand your power requirements and determine whether or not you need upgrading to ensure. Due to the charges having individual nature the minimum value of charge is 1.6 X 10 -19 coulomb. The moment you propose to have an electric panel upgrading assignment in Fawn Creek KS, you can be sure that Fawn Creek Electrical Services will do it right. This article is written by Umm E Aiman Jalali. Let’s now solve an example: Example 2.2 (Engineering Electromagnetics W.H. The test charge that is subjected to the electric field of the source charge. So as we increase the charge electric field intensity decreases. This effect is known as Electric field intensity or just field intensity and we can define it as: The force experienced by a unit positive charge when is placed inside the field of another charge. The medium frequency (MF) lies between 300. Electric Field Intensity is a vector quantity. In this work, the influence of air pressure on SEF intensity and distribution of space charge density under negative DC corona discharge is studied in corona cage via sound pulse method and maximum charge density ratio. Key word: Propagation curve, electric field intensity, ground electrical conductivity, ground wave. This theory makes corona study more convenient, but slightly inconsistent with the actual situation. So everywhere there’s an electric motor, there’s an electric field. However, it is widely considered that the SEF is invariable after corona occurs (Kaptzov’s assumption). Answer (1 of 6): To turn an electric motor, we generate an electric field, which generates a magnetic field, which makes the motor spin. The accuracy of surface electric field (SEF) is important for the research of corona discharge, both in numerical simulation and actual application. Electric field strength is location dependent, and its magnitude decreases as the distance from a location to the source increases.

#Electric field intensity

[slinkybun]

Wave Optics:

The speed of a wave (c) Refractive index (n) Wavelength (λ) Frequency (𝑓) c= 3*10^8 m/s c= 𝑓λ v= c/n = 𝑓λ/n

When light moves from one medium into another, its frequency stays the same, while both the speed and wavelength generally change. Example Problem 1:

Orange light of wavelength λ = 600 nm in air enters water having an index of refraction of 𝑛 = 1.33. (a) What is the frequency of this light? (b) What is the speed of the light in the water? (c) What is the wavelength of the light in the water? (d) If you were swimming underwater and looked at this light, what color would you see?

(a) 𝑓= c/λ = 3*10^8 / 600*10^-9 = 5*10^14 (b) v= c/n = 3*10^8 / 1.33 = 2.26*10^8 (c) 𝑓= c/λ => 2.26*10^8 = (5*10^14) λ => λ= 4.52*10^-7 m= 452 nm (d) Trick question. Red, because human eyes pick up on frequency under water. The plane in which the electric field oscillates is called the plane of polarization.

The intensity 𝐼 of a beam of light is the energy per second per square meter carried by the light. It turns out that the intensity is proportional to the square of the electric field amplitude.

We can measure the intensity of a beam of light.

To double the intensity of an electromagnetic wave, you should increase the amplitude of the electric field by a factor of 1.414.

Light waves can be manipulated to control the orientation of the electric field vector. Most light is unpolarized – electric field vectors point randomly in all directions. A polarizer transmits only one component of the electric field vector to create light that is linearly polarized – the electric field is constrained to one plane.

A polarizer allows transmission of the electric field component parallel to its axis. Consider light that has an electric field of amplitude 𝐸0. Then if the polarizer axis is at angle 𝜃 with respect to the electric field, the transmitted electric field amplitude is: 𝐸(𝜃) = 𝐸0 cos 𝜃 The transmitted intensity 𝐼 (proportional to 𝐸^2) is 𝐼 = 𝐼0 cos^2 𝜃 where 𝐼0 is the incident wave intensity in watts per square meter. (W/m^2)

#physics #wave optics #equations #Intensity #watts per square meter #electric field amplitude #frequency #refractive index #speed of a wave #polarization #example problem

[marutinandanclasses]

an electric dipole is placed at an angle of 30 degree with an electric f...

#youtube #an electric dipole is placed at an angle of 30 degree with an electric field intensity || NEET PYQs @mncphysics AnElectricDipoleIsPlacedA

[ellecdc]

Poly!Jegulus x Slytherin reader idea

So reader is one of the Slytherin chasers and she gets hurt on one of the Slytherin vs Gryffindor matches (maybe just a sprained wrist, or a concussion, whatever you prefer is good!) and imagine just the two captains losing their cool, its either funny or very chaotic or both, really just craving hurt and comfort

it's so funny because keke and I were talking about this dynamic not too long ago. I fiddled around with the positions etc, hope you don't mind! so glad to have you back mimi 🫶

poly!jegulus x fem!reader who plays keeper for the Slytherin team

It was very clear that Regulus was stressed. You knew he didn’t like having to call you up to play.

“Quidditch players play dirty, amour. Have you seen Barty out there?” he had urged you, earning him a roll of your eyes.

“Good thing I’m not playing against Barty then, huh?”

“Yeah, but you’re playing against the players that are playing against Barty; they’re going to go for blood.”

But this was your job as a reserve player. The Slytherin keeper had a case of mumblemumps and was currently on bedrest, meaning it was your turn to step onto the field.

Regulus had ‘double checked’ your equipment for the sixth time before you swatted him away.

“I’m okay, Reg. I’ve played before, yeah?”

Regulus sighed and looked into your eyes imploringly. “Do not take any unnecessary risks, okay? Especially against those animals.” He muttered.

You snorted a laugh. “You do realise we’re playing our boyfriend, yeah? The captain of those ‘animals’?”

Regulus levelled you with a glare. “Exactly.”

You opted to ignore Regulus’ worried ramblings in French and hyped yourself up for the game. Regulus had been hoping that the keeper would pull through in time for the game and was only willing to call you up a mere twenty minutes ago, meaning you hadn’t been mentally prepared for this.

Perhaps more importantly, neither had James

“WHAT IN THE BUGGERING FUCK IS SHE DOING OUT HERE!?” You heard James shout as he marched over to the Slytherin��s on the pitch, earning him a warning from Madame Hooch.

“Crawley is still in the infirmary.” You explained simply as James made it to you and began fussing with your equipment and uniform in much the same way Regulus had already.

“So what? He’s got swollen glands and a case of the mumbles, he can play sodding quidditch.” He muttered, tightening your elbow pads to almost painful lengths.

“Okay, James, enough.” You began shoving at him, but Regulus came to your defence.

“I’ve already done all that, James.” He sighed, sounding equally as disturbed about this as James did.

“I don’t like it. Maybe we should forfeit?” James mused aloud, earning him a horrified outcry from Marlene and Sirius.

“Like hell we’re forfeiting just because your girlfriend is playing, Prongs!” Sirius shouted at the same time as Marlene cried “I know she’s got a pretty face, but this is quidditch, Potter!”

“You never get this worked up over playing against Black, Potter.” Barty goaded from behind you, earning him a dark glare from Regulus.

“That’s because he’s busy looking for the snitch and well out of the action, Junior.” James sneered back before returning his eyes back to you. “Oh, my poor girl.”

You groaned and stepped away from the boys at that. “This is ridiculous, let’s sodding play!”

With an unnecessary amount of reluctance on his part, James stalked back off towards his team as everyone got into formation for the whistle.

The game was as fast-paced and intense as any game was against Slytherin and Gryffindor; the intense and deep-rooted rivalry causing the air to crackle with electricity.

As was predicted by anyone and everyone who knew Barty Crouch Junior, he was one lunatic of a beater, lobbing the bludgers at the opposing players with an unnecessary amount of force. The chasers on the other team seemed to be taking that in stride for the most part, save McLaggen who appeared to take each hit personally.

Any anxiety you had prior to the game melted away with the ease and familiarity of your broom beneath you and the rhythm of swatting quaffles away from your goal posts. Though James talked a big game of you being in “the thick of it”, keepers were the only players allowed within the vicinity of the goal posts, contributing to a certain amount of protection for those in your position.

Unfortunately, the seventh time McLaggen was hit by one of Barty’s bludgers seemed to be the undoing of this so-far fair-played game.

In a manner that seemed to be fueled by pure rage, McLaggen managed to bypass Barty and the other Slytherin beater, and beelined it for you. You would have been impressed by his skills and quick manoeuvres on his broom but you realised too late that he had nearly made it all the way over to you.

“Oi! Stay out of my zone!” You called at him, alerting the chaser’s presence to Barty.

With little more than a twist of his broom, Barty was barrelling his way towards you and aiming a bludger for McLaggen. You were slowly backing up towards your posts in an attempt to stay in position to block McLaggen’s quaffle whilst also trying to stay out of the way of his broom when he suddenly dropped altitude as soon as Barty’s bludger left his hand.

You looked down as he smiled up at you, realising too late what that meant for you.

Suddenly, your vision went black as the bludger made impact with the crown of your head, and you tasted iron as the wind ripped violently through your hair.

You could hear shouting and swearing, suddenly aware that you no longer had your broom under you; you were freefalling.

Still without sight, you had only seconds to brace yourself before you made impact with the hard ground below you.

Your lungs were being squeezed by a large fist within your chest and your ears were ringing something fierce.

There was warmth; warmth on your head, by your ear, trailing down your neck. It felt good against the wind that had accosted you moments earlier.

There was pressure at your collar bone, and deep within your chest.

The pressure became too much.

You took a gaping breath and with that, the ringing in your ears made way for the chaos surrounding you to permeate your consciousness.

“Okay, okay. Okay, good; good job amour, keep breathing. You’re okay, okay? Okay, you’re okay.” You heard Regulus chant, his voice taut with emotions. “Breathe amour, breathe.”

You took a few more gasping breaths and tore your eyes open, realising then that the lack of sight wasn’t due to inability, but rather your body’s unwillingness.

“Hi, hi amour. You’re okay.” Regulus said breathlessly, his eyes scanning between the two of yours before flitting up to something above you.

Your hearing was still fuzzy but you could hear something happening out of your line of sight.

“Yelling.” You choked out, coughing through the pain of having had the wind knocked out of your mere moments ago.

“WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING, MCLAGGEN? THE KEEPER ZONES ARE OFF FUCKING LIMITS.”

“It’s okay, amour. Don’t worry about that, just keep breathing for me, okay?” Regulus urged, placing a gentle hand on the juncture of your neck and shoulder causing you to wince in pain.

“Mr. Potter, you need to calm down.” Madame Hooch could be heard from behind you.

“I’ll do no such thing! He fucking orchestrated that! YOU LET YOUR BEATERS TAKE CARE OF OTHER BOTHERSOME BEATERS! YOU’VE BEEN PLAYING QUIDDITCH FOR SODDING YEARS, YOU KNOW WHAT JUNIOR IS LIKE.”

“Oi! Get your fucking hands off of me!”

“You’re off the team. You’re DONE. Get the fuck out of my sight.”

You heard what sounded like McLaggen storm off towards the locker rooms as Madame Hooch let out a sigh.

“The game is a draw, Slytherin is forced to forfeit with no keeper. Everyone off the pitch.” She droned in monotone.

“Jamie.” You whimpered, your sinuses suddenly swelling painfully.

“Hey! Hey babylove, I’m here.” He said quickly, quietly, gently; his voice a dramatic change from the way he’d been speaking to his team moments ago.

“I’m okay.” You stated, though it sounded more like a question with the way your voice tilted upwards at the end.

“Of course you are, you’re such a strong girl.” He agreed readily, offering you a sad smile. You chuckled self-deprecatingly and lifted your hand to wipe your tears as they trailed into your hairline, grimacing when your hand came back bloody.

“Just a bump, yeah?” James said lightly, causing Regulus to sniffle.

“I think she hurt her collarbone too.” He whispered as if speaking any louder would cause his voice to break and the tears to fall.

“Okay, alright.” James said as Madame Pomfrey arrived with a gurney. “Head injury and possibly injured collarbone.” He relayed to the matron. 

“Thank you, Mr. Potter. Mr. Black, I’ll take over now; please step aside.”

But Regulus didn’t seem able to let go.

“Mr. Black.”

“Come on, Reggie. We’ll follow her up, yeah?” James tried gently, pulling at Regulus’ shoulder so that the matron could levitate you onto the gurney. 

“We’re right behind you, okay sweetheart?” James called after you as he held Regulus to his side, and you let unconsciousness pull at you with the knowledge that they were following you back to the castle. 

“I’m going to fucking kill him, Pads. I’m going to skin him alive and put his head on a spike on the Gryffindor stadium.” 

You heard Sirius chuckle at the sound of James’ dramatics, though he never bothered to argue with his mate. 

“How is it that you’re such a lover boy and my brother is such a gremlin; but anything happens to her and the two of you trade personalities?” Sirius taunted. You heard a shuffle, a grunt, and then an ‘oi!’ before the sound of Remus’ voice permeated the infirmary.

“Alright, alright. Pads, get off your brother.”

“And then, and then! I’m going to mail his ear to his mother with a note saying “you raised a fucking wanker”.” James continued as if no one had said a word.

“Y/N?” You heard Remus ask, causing the shuffling of your boyfriend and his brother, and the musings of your other boyfriend to come to a halt as they waited with bated breath for you to open your eyes.

“There she is.” James sighed in relief as his eyes met yours, his smile only at a fraction of its usual wattage, though it was still enough to brighten up the grim infirmary.

“Hi.” You croaked, wincing as your stretch was impeded by a sling on your arm.

“No, don’t.” Regulus whispered, brushing your elbow with a touch that was barely there. “Madame Pomfrey reset your collarbone, you’ll be in the sling for a few weeks.” He explained.

“Gives us all the more of an excuse to fuss over you, yeah?” James offered, clearly trying to keep spirits up.

Though you knew James was likely just as worked up about your injury as Regulus currently was (if not more, if his threats of murder and mutilation were anything to go off of), he was making an effort to be strong for both of your sake’s.

“Reggie, I’m okay.” You pressed, taking Regulus’ hand in yours that wasn’t currently pressed to your side. 

“I know.” He whispered back.

“So are you.” 

Regulus’ face crumpled at that and he slowly lowered his head to rest on your abdomen.

“Glad to see you up and at’em, Y/N.” Rem smiled at you as Sirius shot you a wink before patting Regulus on the shoulder and leaving the three of you some privacy. 

“Reggie, babe.” James murmured, moving to stand behind Regulus and rub at his shoulders soothingly. “You’re going to get tears and snot all over our poor girl’s jumper.”

“Sod off.” Regulus mumbled into your stomach, causing you and James to chuckle. 

Regulus’ head popped up at that, and he looked at you shyly from red rimmed eyes behind black curls falling over his forehead. 

“You promise me you’re okay?” He whispered, rubbing his thumb back-and-forth over your knuckles.

You nodded and offered him a small smile. 

Regulus sighed and sat up, rubbing at his face. “Good.” He said simply as he stood.

“I’ve got a Gryffindor to kill.”

He placed a gentle kiss to your temple and stalked out of the infirmary before your horrified glance moved to James who stood passively at the end of your bed.

“James!?” You asked, gesturing with your good arm towards the entrance.

James shook his head and waved you off. “Don’t worry; Pad’s and Moony are on watch out there. We knew once you woke up he’d be on a warpath.” 

You let out a surprised laugh as James casually took Regulus’ vacated seat beside you and picked up your good hand.

“You sure you’re okay?”

“Just sore.” You offered with a nod. 

“Well, I don’t like that you got hurt, but I do like getting to take care of you.” He said salaciously, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. 

You shared a soft smile with James before you heard screeching. 

“I need a healer!”

James brows furrowed as he turned to see 1) McLaggen holding a jumper to his face leaving a trail of blood droplets behind him and 2) Regulus, Sirius, and Remus walking back towards your bed far too nonchalantly for your liking. 

“You were supposed to stop him!” James shouted at Sirius as he gestured to Regulus.

Sirius smirked. “Oh, we did.”

James let out a surprised scoff. “Then how’d he manage to maim McLaggen?”

“I didn’t have to.” Regulus replied simply, sitting on the end of your bed and pulling your feet into his lap as he massaged them through the blankets. “Barty got to him first.”

#ask elle #marauders era #marauders au #marauders fanfiction #self insert #reader insert #james potter #regulus black #james x regulus #regulus black x reader #regulus black x you #regulus deserved better #james loves regulus #james potter x reader #james potter x you #james potter x regulus black #jegulus #poly!jegulus #poly!jegulus x reader #poly!jegulus x you #ellecdc fics

[zwedexx]

Hi I’m the anon that asked for the Barca x injured teen reader. Maybe you could do one where she is at a game and she breaks her wrist but no one else notices it so she keeps playing and after the game she leaves quickly and no one really thinks anything of it. So when she comes to practice the next day after she had taped her wrist they see her take medicine for the pain and they all ask why she took it but the coach calls them to the field before they can get it out of her. And then during practice she avoiding gõing shoulder to shoulder with anyone and anything related to her wrist. And when she tries to leave alexia grabs her wrist tõ stop her and then that obviously is painful for her and then she tries to say it’s just a bruised but they make her take the tape off and it’s clearly broken. So then they all scõld her and then take care of her.

Sorry if any wõrds are misspelled English isn’t my first language Portuguese is:)

Barcelona Femeni x Injured Teen Reader

Summary: request

TW: injury, pain medication

WC: 1,535

A/N: All the Catalan is google translated so sorry if its all wrong.

As you stepped onto the hallowed pitch of Camp Not, the atmosphere was electric with the anticipation of El Clásico. The sun had set behind the iconic stadium, casting a warm embrace on the sea of passionate fans draped in the famous Blaugrana. The buzz of excitement echoed through the air as you felt the weight of the historic rivalry pulsating through your veins. 

In the 56’ minute, a breakaway opportunity unfolded before you. The crowd’s roars intensified as you sprinted past defenders. The rhythmic pounding of your heart echoes in your ears. The goal was within reach and there was no defender left. 

BANG.

It took you and the crowd that had gone quiet a hot second to grasp what had just happened. Just as you prepared to unleash your shot, Misa had lunged forward with a desperate tackle. The impact was fierce, sending a shockwave through your body as you hit the ground, left arm first. You knew you had done something to your wrist, you could feel an odd sensation but the adrenaline hadn’t allowed the pain to kick in yet.

As you began to rise, a familiar and reassuring hand touched your shoulder. It was Alexia. She had a concern etched on her face. Alexia had taken you under her wing since the moment you joined Barca. 

“Estàs bé?" she asked, her voice filled with worry. 

(Are you alright)

You nodded yes not wanting to worry her. 

“Estàs segura, necessites tractament?” she asked once more, clearly not convinced.

(Are you sure, do you need treatment?)

“I’m fine Alexia, prometo.” 

(promise)

Alexia, though still not fully convinced, helped you up from the ground. 

While you were down, Misa was sent off with a red card, and Barca was granted a penalty. Although you had anticipated Alexia would be the one to take the shot, she placed the ball on the spot and walked over to you.

“Llança el penal, et mereixes el gol." Alexia whispered to you.

(Take the penalty, you deserve the goal.)

You stepped up to the spot, the taste of adrenaline lingering on your tongue, as the weight of the moment settled on your shoulders. The stadium had seemed to hold its breath, and the intensity of this rivalry hung in its air. The replacement goalkeeper eyed you with a mix of anticipation and defiance as you took your stance. 

Time seemed to stretch, and then, with a powerful strike, you sent the ball soaring into the back of the net. The roar of the crowd erupted and your teammates rushed in to celebrate. A surge of endorphins flooded your body, allowing you to completely forget about the painful feeling of your left wrist.

The deafening cheers echoed for a final time around Camp Nou as the the final whistle blew. The elation of the win washed over you, the exhilaration of success mingling with the exhaustion of the 90+ minutes. 

However, as the adrenaline began to subside, the sharp pain in your leg wrist amplified. The celebration continued around you, teammates hugging and supporter chanting but the physical toll of the game lingered. Even the throbbing discomfort in your wrist, you soldiered on, smiling through the festivities, each handshake and hug causing you to wince. The pain continued to become more pronounced until you couldn’t take it anymore. You had completely ignored everyone during the group huddle, your only wish was to escape and find something to soothe your pain. 

As your teammates continued their celebration, you quietly excused yourself, slipping away from them. The adrenaline that once fuelled your every sprint and kick now transformed into a quiet determination to reach the sanctuary of the changing room. 

Sitting in your cubby, you cradled your wrist, wincing ever so slightly as you attempted to examine it. There was already a numbness in your fingers and a dark purple bruise forming around. 

You didn’t want to tell the girls, you justified it as you not wanting to rain on their parades, so to speak but you were afraid of their reactions, and how’d they blow it all out of proportion. 

With a deep breath, you carefully peeled off your jersey, feeling the residual warmth of the game against your skin. Even as you gingerly worked your way out of the uniform, the pain hadn’t subsided. 

The next morning, the broken wrist made its presence known as you got ready for practice. The bruising had gotten worse and you had practically no sensation in your fingers. 

You knew you couldn’t skip practice but you weren’t sure how you’d be able to hide your injury and practice with it. You had at least made the right decision to tape it, wrapping the across the palm, and snaking up your forearm. You’d also chosen to take a couple of paracetamols to mask the pain. 

As you stepped into the locker room, the intricate tape job on your broken wrist didn’t escape the notice of your teammates. Their eyes flickered towards the your heavily wrapped-up wrist as you rummaged through your bag for medication as the dose you’d taken earlier began to wear off. 

A curious silence fell over the room, broken by Mapi’s concerned voice.

“Una mica dur ahir a la nit, eh?” Mapi’s eyes focused on the tape, her expression a mix of worry and curiosity. Irene, Marta and Ingrid exchange glances realizing something wasn’t quite right.

(Bit rough last night huh?)

You dismissed it with a nonchalant shrug, hoping to not bring anymore attention. “Oh, just a knick, nothing major.”

The raised eyebrows and exchanged glances continued as your teammates weren’t convinced. Lucy leaned in, her voice both playful but concerned. “That’s some serious tape artistry. You’re practically a mummy.”

Attempting to defect, you chuckled, “Yeah, just want to be safe. No big deal.”

“Potser hauries de fer que el fisio t'ho revisi, només per estar-ne segur". Irene chimed in.

(Maybe you should have the physio check it out, just to be sure)

"Ignoring injuries doesn't help anyone elskling. We need you in top form for the next match." Ingrid added.

Alexia, who had been quietly observing, narrowed her eyes. She didn’t press the matter but her gaze lingered on your taped wrist.

Jonas saved you from further interrogation. His voice echoed through the locker room, calling everyone to the field. You seized the opportunity to divert attention and escaped. 

During practice, you found yourself instinctively avoiding any situation that could potentially jeopardize your wrist. When Lucy threw ball at you, heading for your left side, you skillfully used your other hand to intercept it, earning a few puzzled glances from your teammates, especially Alexia.

In a passing drill, you subtly adjusted your positioning, ensuring that your injured wrist wouldn't bear the brunt of any unexpected tackles or collisions. The awareness of your own vulnerability cast a shadow over the otherwise routine exercises, and Alexia's concerned gaze intensified as she observed your every move.

Later, during a scrimmage, a teammate passed the ball to you with a bit too much force. You managed to control it with your good hand, but the wince didn't escape Alexia's watchful eyes. The unease among your teammates grew, their suspicions fueled by your efforts to shield the injured wrist.

As practice wrapped up, you made a discreet attempt to slip away hoping to avoid any direct confrontation about your wrist. Alexia, not done with questioning you, reached out and gently grabbed your injured wrist to stop you from leaving. The sharp intake of breath, small shout of pain and the involuntary flinch betrayed you.

"Què està passant? Has estat evitant el teu canell durant tota la pràctica. Deixa'm fer-li una ullada" Alexia asks with a strong authority.

(What happened? You've been avoiding your wrist the entire practice. Let me take a look at it.)

Still desperately trying to downplay the severity, you attempt a reassuring smile, “it’s just a bruise, really. Like I said, no big deal. Prometo.”

(Promise)

But Alexia was less than unconvinced. 

“Deixa de mentir-me. Treu la cinta i ensenya'm el teu canell.” she demanded

(Stop lying to me. Take off the tape and show me your wrist.)

Reluctantly, not seeing a way out of it now, you began unwrapping the carefully layered tape. As the layers peeled away, it became ever more glaringly evident that it was far more than just a cruise. The visible swelling, discolouration and the cautious way you handled your wrist spoke volumes. Alexia’s expression softened immediately. 

“Està trencada.” She stated with a gentle but stern certainty, her hand resting on your now exposed wrist. Alexia’s initial concern transformed into a mixture of disappointment and frustration as the reality of your broken wrist became undeniable.

(It's broken.)

“Per què no m'ho vas dir?” She questioned, her tone carrying a mix of hurt and anger. The weight of her disappointment was palpable, and it hit you harder than you’d expected.

(Why didn't you tell me?)

Caught in the crossfire of emotions, you couldn’t find the words to explain. The attempt to protect you teammates from worry had backfired, leaving you exposed and vulnerable. As Alexia’s frustration lingered, you gelt a torrent of emotions overwhelming you. The facade you had maintained crumbled, and you broke down. 

Alexia, not intending to hurt you with her words immediately softened. She pulled you into a tight embrace, making sure you wrist was in a safe place. 

"Anem a arreglar-te el canell. D'acord?” She guided you to the medical staff, her presence a silent reassurance amid your mental turmoil. The anger was replaced by a quiet understanding and her arms wrapped around your shoulders, offering comfort.

(Let's get your wrist fixed. Ok?)

#woso #woso x reader #woso fanfics #women's football #women's soccer #barca femeni #barcelona femeni #alexia putellas #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader #mapi leon #mapi león #ingrid engen #irene paredes #aitana bonmati #lucy bronze #lucy bronze x reader #lucy bronze imagine

[afeelgoodblog]

The Best News of Last Week

1. ‘It was an accident’: the scientists who have turned humid air into renewable power

Greetings, readers! Welcome to our weekly dose of positivity and good vibes. In this edition, I've gathered a collection of uplifting stories that will surely bring a smile to your face. From scientific breakthroughs to environmental initiatives and heartwarming achievements, I've got it all covered.

In May, a team at the University of Massachusetts Amherst published a paper declaring they had successfully generated a small but continuous electric current from humidity in the air. They’ve come a long way since then. The result is a thin grey disc measuring 4cm across.

One of these devices can generate a relatively modest 1.5 volts and 10 milliamps. However, 20,000 of them stacked, could generate 10 kilowatt hours of energy a day – roughly the consumption of an average UK household. Even more impressive: they plan to have a prototype ready for demonstration in 2024.

2. Empty Office Buildings Are Being Turned Into Vertical Farms

Empty office buildings are being repurposed into vertical farms, such as Area 2 Farms in Arlington, Virginia. With the decline in office usage due to the Covid-19 pandemic, municipalities are seeking ways to fill vacant spaces.

Vertical farming systems like Silo and AgriPlay's modular growth systems offer efficient and adaptable solutions for converting office buildings into agricultural spaces. These initiatives not only address food insecurity but also provide economic opportunities, green jobs, and fresh produce to local communities, transforming urban centers in the process.

3. Biden-Harris Administration to Provide 804,000 Borrowers with $39 Billion in Automatic Loan Forgiveness as a Result of Fixes to Income Driven Repayment Plans

The Department of Education in the United States has announced that over 804,000 borrowers will have $39 billion in Federal student loans automatically discharged. This is part of the Biden-Harris Administration's efforts to fix historical failures in the administration of the student loan program and ensure accurate counting of monthly payments towards loan forgiveness.

The Department aims to correct the system and provide borrowers with the forgiveness they deserve, leveling the playing field in higher education. This announcement adds to the Administration's efforts, which have already approved over $116.6 billion in student loan forgiveness for more than 3.4 million borrowers.

4. F.D.A. Approves First U.S. Over-the-Counter Birth Control Pill

The move could significantly expand access to contraception. The pill is expected to be available in early 2024.

The Food and Drug Administration on Thursday approved a birth control pill to be sold without a prescription for the first time in the United States, a milestone that could significantly expand access to contraception. The medication, called Opill, will become the most effective birth control method available over the counter

5. AIDS can be ended by 2030 with investments in prevention and treatment, UN says

It is possible to end AIDS by 2030 if countries demonstrate the political will to invest in prevention and treatment and adopt non-discriminatory laws, the United Nations said on Thursday.

In 2022, an estimated 39 million people around the world were living with HIV, according to UNAIDS, the United Nations AIDS program. HIV can progress to AIDS if left untreated.

6. Conjoined twins released from Texas Children’s Hospital after successfully separated in complex surgery

Conjoined twins are finally going home after the pair was safely separated during a complex surgery at Texas Children’s Hospital in June.

Ella Grace and Eliza Faith Fuller were in the neonatal intensive care unit (NICU) for over four months after their birth on March 1. A large team of healthcare workers took six hours to complete the surgery on June 14. Seven surgeons, four anesthesiologists, four surgical nurses and two surgical technicians assisted with the procedure.

7. From villains to valued: Canadians show overwhelming support for wolves

Despite their record in popular culture, according to a recent survey, seven in 10 Canadians say they have a “very positive” view of the iconic predators. 

Here's a fascinating video about how wolves changed Yellowstone nat'l park:

----

That's it for this week :)

This newsletter will always be free. If you liked this post you can support me with a small kofi donation:

Support this newsletter ❤️

Also don’t forget to reblog.

#best news of last week #Youtube

[hotjaneaustenmenpoll]

Semi-Final One

Propaganda...

Colonel Brandon (1995):

Alan Rickman has the sexiest voice. Just listen to him reading poetry to Marianne at the end to witness how hot he is.

Alan Rickman simply embodies the truth of Col. Brandon in a way that no one else every could. It's the perfect merging of actor and role. He brings the perfect combination of honor, decency, sensitivity and passion. He is the ultimate mensch.

Brandon propaganda in which even the film's director agrees that Brandon is sexy.

More Brandon propaganda! This photo could only be published in black and white because it would have been too powerful in color (the original color version is currently being used to provide electricity for a medium sized town in Devon. It's THAT powerful).

The brim of the hat falling over his eye. The casual lean. The hunting rifle slung across his leg. The puppy bestie. The fact you know he could row that boat while you watch and wish you were the boat.

From Emma Thompson's diaries which she kept while they were shooting Sense & Sensibility. Emma Thompson said vote Colonel Brandon.

Mr Darcy (1995):

Colin Firth (1995) is book Darcy brought to life. He uses tiny gestures and looks to communicate with us and Elizabeth… his struggle is so subtle but so palpable. A beautiful asshole with a creamy nougat center. Just perfect.

GIF by sunsetboulevards

Those heart-eyes right up above☝️? Hot!

Passive-agressively drinking tea? Hot!

GIF by jaeausten

The way he rushes over to see Elizabeth at Pemberley on those delicious long legs of his with that slutty wet curl hanging over his forehead? Hot!

GIF by didanagy

Fencing? Hot!

GIF by greengableslover

The way he is so concerned about Elizabeth crying and takes her hand even though he shouldn't? Hot!

GIF by greengableslover

This dimple-y smile of pure joy because he knows he's married to Elizabeth freaking Bennet? Hot!

GIF by didana

Colin Firth Darcy is simultaneously immaculately put together and entirely falling apart internally. The wet shirt scene is so iconic not (only) because ‘oooh almost-shirtless sexy man’, but because it’s a metaphor for how he’s absolutely falling apart!!! This is a private moment, when he doesn’t think anyone can see him. And then he bumps. into. Lizzie. At his house!! And the entire sequence that follows with him rushing out still doing his jacket up to catch her before he leaves. They are both on the back foot and it’s THAT moment of confusion that opens a more honest dialogue between them.

Without Firth in a lake you wouldn’t get Macfadyen in a downpour!

There's a reason why Colin Firth is forever known as Mr. Darcy above all other roles he's had and will have! Even ignoring the wet white shirt, which has become A Thing now, he is so hot with his curly hair and his little half smiles and his intense looks of longing and his legs that go on for milessss.

This cannot be real. My fellow Jane Austen people. Without Colin Firth’s Darcy we wouldn’t have 90% of modern JA content. He opened a door and there was no turning back for modern culture. There would be no MacFadyen standing half undressed in a field at dawn without Firth jumping into a lake first. There would be no hand flex if there hadn’t been Firth doing his best impression of a man undressing Elizabeth Bennet with his eyes and hating himself for liking it. There would be no Bridgerton without Bridget Jones. Let’s face it people. We wouldn’t be here having these arguments if Colin Firth had not been Mr Darcy.

Colin Firth understood Mr. Darcy in a way no other actor ever has. He is awkward as fuck in a way that comes across as snooty and judgmental on a first watch-through, then can be read as awkward and longing on a second time. His performance had such depth while looking extremely shallow at first glance. This man WAS Mr. Darcy. (I love 2005, as well, and I love Matthew McFayden, but he was awkward for awkward sake.) Colin Firth made Darcy's awkward look snooty and aloof.

THE socially awkward Darcy is the 1995 Darcy - look at him coming and sitting in awkward silence with Elizabeth pointedly asking her if she wants to live a long way from her family (to obvious relief) and then abruptly leaving - vote for him please 😭😭😭😭

GIF by my-little-random-world

Colin Firth served so much as Darcy that when they did Bridget Jone's diary, they brought him back.... AS DARCY. The smoulder. The angst. The man is the quintessential Darcy.

“Firthing” is an actual term that is used now to describe someone yearning intensely. It is named after Colin Firth’s Mr Darcy performance.

Colin Firth all the way. He's known in our household as Owl Eyes because in every frame he's mooning over Elizabeth Bennet. Unsurpassable, unmatched, golden television (and some of the worst dancing you've ever seen).

Colin has beautiful, touchable curls.

Link

My high school English teacher was very into using movies to teach alongside literature, which was a great teaching tool. When we read Pride and Prejudice, he used both 2005 and 1995 for various scenes. What stands out to me all these years later was when it got to the part when Lizzy went to help Georgiana after Caroline dropped Mr. Wickham's name and Darcy gives Lizzy this look:

My teacher stopped the film and pointed at Darcy's face and said, "See that? That is THE look. If someone ever looks at you like that, you know they're in love." And what is hotter than that?

Also this teacher had two cats named Lizzy and Darcy. Not relevant to the poll but I wanted you all to know about them.

Colin Firth dazzles and amazes in the nuanced performance that just blows all other attempts away.

The best thing about the Colin Firth wet shirt scene is actually the scene that follows where him and Lizzie are both just dyinggg of embarrassment but Darcy pulls himself together refuses to lose his advantage and runs to get dressed and chase her down before she leaves - just the mix of cringe and hopefulness at seeing her again is so well done and so attractive!!! (this is just the bit where he's running after her but I love it all!)

#hotjaneaustenmenpoll #semi finals #mr darcy #colonel brandon #pride and prejudice 1995 #sense and sensibility 1995 #pride and prejudice #sense and sensibility #jane austen #colin firth #alan rickman

[delusionalfanficwriter]

truth comes out

The day had finally arrived. The day Y/N would face Leah on the field, the first time since their breakup. As the referee's whistle blew, signaling the start of the match between the USWNT and England, a complex mix of emotions swirled within Y/N.

The tension between them was palpable. Y/N could feel Leah's eyes on her, the intensity of her presence like an electric charge in the air. The pitch, once a place of shared joy and camaraderie, had become a battlefield where past love and shared memories had turned into heartache and distance.

Y/N was determined to focus on the game, but every glance, every challenge, seemed to carry an extra layer of meaning. It was as though their personal history was playing out on the field for everyone to see. The weight of unspoken words and unresolved feelings hung heavily in the atmosphere.

“Watch it, Y/N.” Leah seethed as she knocked Y/N on her ass when challenging for the ball. Y/N didn’t say anything understanding where Leah’s emotions were coming from. Y/N couldn't help but steal a glance at Leah. Their eyes locked for a brief moment, and Y/N saw the pain and frustration mirrored in her ex's gaze. The game had become a proxy for the emotions they hadn't been able to voice.

Y/N's teammates noticed the tension, even if they didn't know the full story. Tobin and Christen exchanged concerned glances as they sensed something was amiss. A few whispered words passed between them, but no one dared to breach the subject with Y/N. She had always been the one to keep her private life private, and they respected her boundaries.

But it was a passing remark from Sonnet that broke the unspoken rule. With a wry smile, the player said, "Guess there's some tension there, huh?" as Y/N and Leah clashed on the field once again.

However, it was Daly who had overheard and decided to set the record straight. "Oh, you didn't hear? Y/N broke up with Leah," she explained, not realizing the storm she was about to unleash.

The revelation sent ripples through the teams. USWNT players exchanged surprised glances, while Leah's teammates tried to hide their grimaces. The secret Y/N had guarded so fiercely was out in the open, and the discomfort was palpable.

The intense match was reaching a breaking point. As the play continued, Leah's aggression escalated. It was a move that took even her teammates by surprise, and their confused glances suggested that they were equally puzzled by her actions.

The referee's whistle cut through the air as Leah committed a blatant foul on Y/N. She went in for a dirty challenge, walking away as if nothing had happened. Y/N, however, didn't get up. She lay on the ground, wincing in pain.

Tobin sprinted over, shouting at the referee, "Ref! That's a yellow!" She made it clear that Leah's actions were not going unnoticed. Christen, Kristie, and Sonnett, who were nearby, immediately rushed to Y/N's side. They knew that if Y/N wasn't getting up quickly after a hit, things were not good. 

Leah's eyes widened as she saw the extent of the damage her reckless play had caused. Concern and guilt washed over her, and she instinctively moved toward Y/N, intending to check on her. But before she could approach, Tobin, who had been a few steps ahead, physically blocked her path, a stern expression on her face. Tobin pushed Leah away, keeping her from getting any closer to Y/N. She didn't mince her words, her voice low not wanting her words to reach Y/N and laced with frustration, "You need to stay away right now. You've done enough."

Leah could feel the weight of Tobin's words and the intensity behind them. It was clear that her actions had crossed a line, and Tobin was not going to tolerate any further interference. Leah bit her lip, holding back the apologies and explanations that were on the tip of her tongue and instead turned to walk away knowing how protective they were of her. 

Medics and trainers took Y/N off the field on a stretcher before taking her to the locker room for a more detailed exam. 

“It’s fine. My back spasmed when I hit the ground awkwardly. I promise I am fine.” Y/N tells the trainers who ultimately do their physical exam and don’t see anything concerning. With that, they let Y/N go to the locker room that held her concerned teammates and she reassured them that she was okay. 

Tobin spoke gently, her eyes filled with understanding. "Y/N, are you sure you are okay?"

Y/N took a deep breath and nodded, mustering a small, brave smile. "I'm fine, Tobin. Just a tough match."

But it wasn't just the match that had been tough, and Y/N's teammates knew it. They exchanged knowing looks, silently vowing to be there for her, even when she wasn't ready to talk.

After the game though , as Y/N and her teammates made their way to the bus, she couldn't help but notice the shift in their demeanor. They exchanged furtive glances, whispered in hushed tones, and wore expressions that ranged from concern to sympathy. Y/N felt like she was missing something, something important.

During the bus ride back to their hotel, she couldn't ignore the quiet, lingering stares directed her way. The atmosphere was heavy, and her teammates' unusual behavior was impossible to ignore. Their silence, usually filled with banter and laughter, felt oppressive.

Dinner that evening was another revelation. Y/N joined her teammates in the hotel's restaurant, and the moment she sat down at their table, the conversation fell silent. It was as if her presence had disrupted the natural flow of camaraderie and conversation that usually accompanied their post-game meals.

Sensing something was amiss, Y/N furrowed her brows and looked around at her teammates, her curiosity getting the better of her. "Hey, guys, is everything okay? You've been acting a bit strange since the game. Did something happen?"

Tobin, usually the one to lead conversations, cleared her throat and glanced at Christen, seeking support. Christen nodded and took a deep breath. "Y/N, we heard about your breakup with Leah during the game."

Y/N felt her heart drop as the truth hung in the air. She had kept her personal life separate from her soccer career for so long, and now the team knew. Her emotions were a whirlwind, torn between relief at not having to keep the secret and vulnerability at having her heartache exposed.

She managed a small nod, not trusting her voice to speak. Her teammates exchanged glances again, and it was Alex who finally spoke up. "Y/N, we're sorry we didn't know sooner, and we're here for you. You don't have to go through this alone."

Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes, touched by her teammates' support. She had expected them to be curious or invasive, but their response was nothing short of genuine concern and understanding. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice catching in her throat.

#uswnt fanfic #uswnt imagine #uswnt x reader #woso fanfics #woso x reader #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #engwnt #lionesses

[therealtruthalways]

United States Patent and Trademark Office​

0462795 – July 16, 1891 – Method Of Producing Rain-Fall

803180 – October 31, 1905 – Means for Producing High Potential Electrical Discharges

1103490 – August 6, 1913 – Rain-Maker

1225521 – September 4, 1915 – Protecting From Poisonous Gas In Warfare

1279823 – September 24, 1918 – Process and Apparatus for Causing Precipitation by Coalescence of Aqueous Particles Contained in the Atmosphere

1284982 – November 19, 1918 – Process and Apparatus for Procuring and Stimulating Rainfall

1338343 – April 27, 1920 – Process And Apparatus For The Production of Intense Artificial Clouds, Fogs, or Mists

1358084 – November 9, 1920 – Method of Producing Fog-Screens

1619183 – March 1, 1927 – Process of Producing Smoke Clouds From Moving Aircraft

1665267 – April 10, 1928 – Process of Producing Artificial Fogs

1892132 – December 27, 1932 – Atomizing Attachment For Airplane Engine Exhausts

1895765 – January 31, 1933 – Artificial Production of Fog

1928963 – October 3, 1933 – Electrical System And Method

1957075 – May 1, 1934 – Airplane Spray Equipment

1993316 – March 5, 1935 – Apparatus for and Method of Producing Oil Fog

2052626 – September 1, 1936 – Method of Dispelling Fog

2097581 – November 2, 1937 – Electric Stream Generator – Referenced in 3990987

2173756 – September 19, 1939 – Process of Producing Fog or Mist by Partial and Flameless Combustion

2352677 – July 4, 1944 – Artificial Fog Production

2476171 – July 18, 1945 – Smoke Screen Generator

2409201 – October 15, 1946 – Smoke Producing Mixture

2480967 – September 6, 1949 – Aerial Discharge Device

2527230 – October 24, 1950 – Method of Crystal Formation and Precipitation

2527231 – October 24, 1950 – Method of Generating Silver Iodide Smoke

2550324 – April 24, 1951 – Process For Controlling Weather

2582678 – June 15, 1952 – Material Disseminating Apparatus For Airplanes

2611992 – September 30, 1952 – Engine Exhaust Operated Fluent Material Distributor

2614083 – October 14, 1952 – Metal Chloride Screening Smoke Mixture

2633455 – March 31, 1953 – Smoke Generator

2688069 – August 31, 1954 – Steam Generator – Referenced in 3990987

2721495 – October 25, 1955 – Method And Apparatus For Detecting Minute Crystal Forming Particles Suspended in a Gaseous Atmosphere

2730402 – January 10, 1956 – Controllable Dispersal Device

2903188 – April 2, 1956 – Control of Tropical Cyclone Formation

2756097 – July 24, 1956 – Process for Weather Control

2801322 – July 30, 1957 – Decomposition Chamber for Monopropellant Fuel – Referenced in 3990987

2835530 – May 20, 1958 – Process for the Condensation of Atmospheric Humidity and Dissolution of Fog

2871344 – January 27, 1959 – Long Distance Communication System

2881335 – April 7, 1959 – Generation of Electrical Fields

2908442 – October 13, 1959 – Method For Dispersing Natural Atmospheric Fogs And Clouds

2962450 – November 29, 1960 – Fog Dispelling Composition

2963975 – December 13, 1960 – Cloud Seeding Carbon Dioxide Bullet

3019989 – February 6, 1962 – Atmospheric Space Charge Modification

2986360 – May 30, 1962 – Aerial Insecticide Dusting Device

3046168 – July 24, 1962 – Chemically Produced Colored Smokes

3056556 – October 2, 1962 – Method of Artificially Influencing the Weather

3126155 – March 24, 1964 – Silver Iodide Cloud Seeding Generator

3127107 – March 31, 1964 – Generation of Ice-Nucleating Crystals

3131131 – April 28, 1964 – Electrostatic Mixing in Microbial Conversions

3140207 – July 7, 1964 – Pyrotechnic Composition

3174150 – March 16, 1965 – Self-Focusing Antenna System

3234357 – February 8, 1966 – Electrically Heated Smoke Producing Device

3274035 – September 20, 1966 – Metallic Composition For Production of Hydroscopic Smoke

3284005 – November 8,1966 – Weather Control by Artificial Means

3300721 – January 24, 1967 – Means For Communication Through a Layer of Ionized Gases

3313487 – April 11, 1967 – Cloud Seeding Apparatus

3338476 – August 29, 1967 – Heating Device For Use With Aerosol Containers

[girls--complex]

BOOK ov SHAME

Handbound book made of found materials, cardboard, craft paper, collage elements and such, including an amulet tied into the binding which contains 2 bones, a crystal, some stainless steel charms, a D ring, a button, etc...

This is a confession of my sins before God (SERIOUS REACTS ONLY!!!) made as an observance of my first saturn return (SATURNIAN REACTS ONLY!!!!!!!!!) and as homework for my special class!!!

I'm going to reproduce the text of the book below:.

HAVING FUN IS A MORAL IMPERATIVE

THE ONLY HOPE

with great chagrin I confess before the LORD my Maker that I have attained to the first complete revolution of Saturn since my bloody birth into this Realm laboring Harshly under the Misapprehension that Additional Karmic Merit would be imputed those who scrupulously avoided having ANY FUN

In the intensive care unit -The bullet's out. And the kid could make it. -But he's given up. He has no will to live. That's terrible!

Only to discover that in my field of study, (namely, the Making of little Pictures,) when FUN is absent in the process,

SUCK reveals itself in the product.

Sometimes the best medicine isn't medicine at all.

standing on the brink of divinity, a poignant combination of vulnerability and toughness. the tremendous potential of this revolution could be overshadowed by fear.

A BRIGHTER HALO electric and never-ending biomass morphing into a protuberance

the same is true of sex, btw

in light of this reproach i have no choice but to admit that my DERELICTION of FUN is a sin against BEAUTY...

I AM A MESSENGER FROM THE DAMNED!

THE FATHER OF LIES HAS NOT ONLY WEAPONIZED MY CONSCIENCE AGAINST THE RESPONSIBLE CULTIVATION OF A GOOD TIME BUT THE FOLLOWING UNWORTHY-OF-RUINING-THE-FUN DESIRES:

THE DESIRE FOR SOCIAL APPROVAL THE DESIRE FOR INTELLECTUAL SUPERIORITY THE DESIRE TO BE SUPERSPECIAL TO PERFECT THE CRAFT TO DO NO WRONG AND THE WILL TO AVOID PUNISHMENT!!

-I've got a new best friend. -But what about ME? Her heart is broken... by the very ones who love her.

I praise THE LORD CHRIST for having already BEGUN To demote these diminishing desires

Making Monsters HUNGRY, THIRSTY,FRANTIC Not exactly conscious of real identity: pure soul, merged with the body sometimes understanding

What is my medicine?

I HEAR BYE REPENT OF MY LAUGHABLE HUMORLESSNESS

-Hi! Can I go with you? -Check him out! That's cute. -You're wearing a great costume! -Thanks! -Back off, Stinky. This is holy ground!

DANGER

I SEE NOW THAT HAVING FUN IS A MORAL IMPERATIVE

THE FOOL! But it's your endless passion for discovery that leads you there.

[mapiforpresident]

may i request prompt 10 with emily fox where they both play for the uswnt, please? maybe they are rivals in chelsea vs arsenal? thank you!

Enemies No Longer

Emily Fox x reader

warnings: none

You and Emily Fox, two formidable forces on the pitch, had always shared an intense rivalry. As a striker for Chelsea, you were tasked with outmaneuvering Emily, the formidable defender for Arsenal and the US Women's National Soccer Team. Another reason you didn't like facing off with Emily is that you were both American, however you had yet to be called up to the national team. Match after match, you faced off against each other, each determined to lead your respective teams to victory.

But despite the animosity that simmered between you on the field, there was an undeniable chemistry that crackled in the air whenever you crossed paths. Emily's tenacity and skill challenged you in ways you hadn't experienced before, pushing you to become a better player with each encounter.

However, it wasn't until you received the call-up to the USWNT for the first time that your perspective began to shift. Suddenly, you found yourself thrust into the same team as Emily, your former rival now your teammate. As you trained together and shared the same locker room, you couldn't help but notice the subtle changes in your perception of her.

Gone was the annoyance and frustration that had colored your interactions on the pitch. In its place bloomed a newfound admiration for Emily's dedication and talent, as well as a growing sense of fondness that caught you off guard.

It started with simple gestures - a smile exchanged across the training ground, a shared laugh over a post-match meal. Slowly but surely, your feelings began to evolve, morphing from annoyance to something altogether more complex and profound.

As you spent more time together, you discovered shared interests and passions beyond the world of football. Conversations flowed easily between you, each one revealing new layers to Emily's personality that you hadn't previously seen. You found yourself drawn to her warmth, her kindness, and the unwavering support she offered both on and off the pitch.

And then, one day, it happened - a fleeting touch, a lingering glance, and suddenly, the truth was undeniable. You were falling for Emily Fox, your former rival turned teammate, in a way you had never imagined possible.

As you stood on the pitch together, side by side, preparing for another match, you couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation coursing through your veins. But this time, it wasn't just about the game. It was about the possibility of something more, something real and tangible that had blossomed between you despite all odds.

The final whistle blew, signaling the end of your first match with the USWNT. As you made your way off the field, your heart raced with a mix of exhilaration and nerves. But amidst the cheers and applause of the crowd, there was only one person you were searching for - Emily.

Spotting her near the sideline, you made your way over, the adrenaline still coursing through your veins. She greeted you with a warm smile, her eyes sparkling with pride. "Great game out there," she said, her voice filled with genuine admiration.

"Thanks, Emily," you replied, your heart pounding in your chest. This was it - the moment you had been waiting for, the moment to finally lay your feelings bare.

Taking a deep breath, you reached out to take her hand, the touch sending a jolt of electricity through your veins. "There's something I need to tell you," you began, your voice steady despite the butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

Emily's expression softened, her gaze locking with yours in silent anticipation. "What is it?" she asked, her tone gentle and encouraging.

"I... I've realized something these past few weeks," you confessed, your words tumbling out in a rush. "Being on the same team as you, getting to know you beyond the rivalry... it's made me see things differently."

Emily listened intently, her hand squeezing yours in silent support. "Go on," she urged, her eyes never leaving yours.

"I... I've developed feelings for you, Emily," you admitted, the weight of the confession lifting from your shoulders. "More than just teammates, more than just friends. I... I think I'm in love with you."

For a moment, there was silence between you, the air thick with anticipation. Then, slowly but surely, a smile spread across Emily's face, radiant and genuine.

"I've been feeling the same way," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. "I've tried to ignore it, to push it aside, but... I can't deny what's in my heart any longer."

With those words, the floodgates opened, and all the pent-up emotions and desires that had been simmering beneath the surface came rushing out. You found yourselves enveloped in each other's arms, the world around you fading away as you basked in the warmth of your newfound connection.

And as you stood there, lost in each other's embrace, you knew that this was just the beginning of a beautiful journey together - one that transcended the boundaries of rivalry and united you in a love that was stronger than anything you had ever known.

For on that fateful day, amidst the cheers and celebrations of your first USWNT match, you had not only emerged victorious on the field but also in matters of the heart. And as you looked into Emily's eyes, you knew that no matter what the future held, you would face it together, hand in hand, forever and always.

#emily fox #arsenal women #uswnt #uswnt x reader #woso #woso x reader #woso imagine

[rosyheretic]

little bird (part 2) (steve rogers x fem!reader)

part 1

summary: steve rogers has been acting strangely around you for months, and now you know why: he found out about your crush on him and decided to tease you until you couldn't take it, as penance for your insubordination in the field. how much of steve's provocation can you take? and does he enjoy working you up? (part 2: oh yeah he does)

warnings: smut (18+), fingering, spanking, unprotected sex (bad), praise kink, size kink? ish? it's steve c'mon, witch reader, dirty talk, aftercare (fluff?)

notes: thank you guys for reading the first part! hopefully the grand finale lives up to your expectations. i plan to keep writing and hopefully improve, so let me know if you have any feedback or requests! up next on the queue is a sex pollen fic (with a twist!) because i'm a simple woman.

steve grinned at you and wrapped his arms around your waist, hoisting you up to perch you on the counter.

his big hands fell on your knees and pushed them apart so that he could stand between your legs. his dominant hand then slipped under your chin, tilting your head so he could kiss you.

steve rogers was a passionate kisser. he was hungry, taking possession of your mouth and exploring you with his tongue. he found the back of your neck and stroked it as he pulled back to speak.

"if i didn't know any better, i'd say you like smoochin' me," steve teased, drinking in your kiss-swollen lips and dazed eyes.

"oh, quit gloating and get to work," you fired back. a splash of magic escaped you and pink wisps guided his fingers toward your heat.

"since when do i take orders from you, dove?" steve pulled his hand free of your power and tutted. "the whole point of this exercise is to teach you to respect my authority."

"is that so, captain?" you sang back. "i thought the point was to rail me."

"i'm a talented guy," steve said, planting a kiss on your cheek so his lips were right by your ear. "i can do two things at once."

"then i suggest you get on it, rogers, because right now i don't see a compelling reason to change my behavior."

steve chuckled and captured your lips in another intense kiss. when you parted your lips to let him in, he used the momentary distraction to pick you up and haul you over his shoulder. your dress flipped up, revealing your upper thighs and your ruined panties.

"wha—STEVE! put me down!" you screamed, pounding your fists on his back. with one quick slap to your thinly clothed ass, he shut you up.

"you want a reason?" he said, slapping your ass twice more. "i'll give you 20."

he carried you to the couch, hitting each side of your bottom one more time before he sat down. he bent you over his knee, holding you down with his free hand splayed across your back.

"i'll just slip these off so i can see you, babygirl," he cooed as he dragged your panties down your legs. when he saw the large wet spot on your underwear, he laughed in triumph. "look at that. nice and wet for your captain, hm?"

steve gave you no warning before he resumed his punishment, landing slaps on every inch of your backside quickly and randomly. after what felt like hours of this punishment, you were delirious and helpless in his arms. or so you both thought.

he turned you over on his lap, hiking your dress up your legs again for access. when he forced your legs apart and moved his hand toward your mound, you braced for relief. instead you watched in horror as he drew back his hand, winding up for a slap right to your pussy. you flinched hard and shut your eyes.

when the spank never came, you opened your eyes to find steve's hand hovering in midair, its path interrupted by the electric fog of your magic.

"still resisting me, little bird?" steve raised an eyebrow at you, unfazed. then he started to push against the energy barrier. your involuntary magical defenses disintegrated under the pressure of his hand. he wore a cocky grin as your power fell away, leaving you defenseless.

you wanted to keep up the bratty act because the dynamic was fun for both of you. but in failing to protect yourself from his punishing hand, you had shown your cards. he knew how much you needed this, how powerless you were against the craving for your superior.

"betrayed by your subconscious," steve found humor in the situation even while you trembled beneath him. mercifully, he gave up on spanking you in favor of teasing your folds. you mewled at the first swipe of his fingers through your heat. "don't worry, i know you could still kick my super ass if you wanted to. but you won't, will you?"

"no..." you whimpered as his fingers sought out your clit, hovering over it and stroking around it to work you up. "wanna be good, captain, please."

"that's all i ever wanted to hear," steve said with a giddy smile. satisfied that he'd corrected your attitude, he gave in and rubbed your clit in earnest. "there's my good girl. i always knew you were in there somewhere."

"oh my god, yes," you breathed as he buried a finger inside you. he explored your walls with gentle thrusts, almost too gentle. you wiggled impatiently in his lap, creating friction on his bulge which was pressing into your side.

"careful," steve hissed. "you may be a super scary witch, but my cock would still split you open without some prep. you gotta be patient. can you do that for me?"

you whined but agreed to his terms. as a reward, he added a second finger. you could feel yourself stretching to accommodate his thick digits. sensing the resistance, steve searched for something to distract you—literally. he probed along your walls like a man on a mission, grinning when you cried out.

"gotcha," he murmured, almost to himself. your pussy fluttered and clenched wildly around him. "that's it, sugar, keep squeezing my fingers just like that. can't wait to be inside you, sweets."

steve's next move was calculated; he was a strategist, after all. as he worked in a third finger, he traced his thumb up to your clit, rubbing it harshly in time with his thrusts. you were a goner as soon as you felt three huge fingers stretching you out and doting on your g-spot.

"oh, princess, i know it feels so good. it's okay, you're doing so good, yes, my good girl, coming on your captain's lap like this," steve coaxed you through your orgasm with sweet nothings.

before you even had time to recover, steve swept you up bridal-style and carried you to the bedroom. "what happened to being patient?" you quipped as he put you down on the bed and unbuckled his belt.

"i haven't wanted someone the way i want you in 70 years," he responded, practically jumping out of his clothes to get to you. now fully nude, steve's cock bobbed between his legs, twitching and weeping precum. "forgive me if i'm in a hurry now that i finally have you."

his words rolled over you like a warm blanket, shielding you from all fear and uncertainty. steve climbed on top of you and rid you of your dress, the last item of clothing hiding your body from his hungry eyes.

"so beautiful, baby bird," steve marveled at your tits as he kneaded them, groaning out loud at their softness. you writhed underneath him, desperate to feel all of him. "ready?"

at your affirmative nod, steve pushed his hips forward and notched his mushroom tip inside your entrance. you sucked in a breath through your teeth at the intrusion. "oh steve, you're so —" you held your breath as he fed you another inch, "big! too big..."

"i know, lovebug, i'm sorry. i'm right here with you." steve cooed. he kept his hips still and peppered featherlight kisses all over your face. "you can take it. just open up for me, let me in."

"o-okay..." you whispered, relaxing your body. steve continued. he captured your lips in a greedy kiss, swallowing every moan and whine and mmph! you had to give him. before long, he was seated fully inside you.

"i'm so proud of you," steve pulled away from the kiss to shoot you a lust(love?)-drunk smile. "can i move now? you deserve a reward for being so brave."

"yes, ple—ah!" your reply was cut off with a squeal as he thrust forward at an angle, hitting your sweet spot with ease. he picked up the pace, more at ease knowing you were enjoying yourself. the burn of his cock stretching your walls now felt pleasant, especially when he snuck his fingers down to your bundle of nerves.

"fuck, angel, i'm not gonna last," steve panted, his dick driving into you even faster. "you're so tight, chokin' me... come with me. let go for me, love."

as he spoke, his fingers went into overdrive on your clit. this, combined with the near-intolerable feeling of fullness, sent you over the edge. you felt yourself clench and spasm around him, triggering steve's release. he came with a shout, rope after rope of hot liquid coating your walls.

in your warm post-orgasmic haze, you felt like you were floating. then steve pried himself away from you and off the bed.

"where are you going?" you asked shyly.

"to get a washcloth. you don't have to be afraid, little bird. i'm gonna take care of you."

you smiled to yourself and closed your eyes again, knowing his words to be true.

#steve rogers smut #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fanfic #mcu fanfiction #captain america x reader #captain america fanfiction #captain america smut #avengers au

[holysainz]

hidden truths - mick schumacher

pairing: mick schumacher x messi!reader

warnings: none

summary: you use summer vacation as an escape from the weight of your last name … mick happens to have the same idea

You meet him on the shores of Ibiza. He’s just another sun-soaked stranger as far as you’re concerned. With golden hair tousled by the ocean wind and eyes reflecting the azure blue of the sea, he is magnetic. But you’re just two beach-goers, simply Mick and Y/N, each escaping the intensity of your own lives for a slice of paradise.

You’re both incognito, tucked away behind faux names and tinted aviator sunglasses, your public identities folded away and locked away in your suitcases. He’s Mick, a charismatic car mechanic, and you’re Y/N, a football coach from Rosario. Nearly truth, except for the bits you both conveniently leave out.

Mick’s charm is undeniable. It’s clear that he’s comfortable around people … around you. It’s the easy jokes he cracks about the Spanish heat and the impromptu sandcastle-building competition he starts under the heat of the midday sun that endear him to you. There’s a spark, a connection. But just as a sun sets on Ibiza, the end of summer break looms in the horizon.

You decide to see it through, to ride this wave until the end.

—

One afternoon, as the sun dips low in the sky and bathes the beach in shades of gold, you’re locked in a lively debate about football. Your knowledge, the passion, it’s all too familiar.

“I swear, Y/N, you talk like you’ve been on the field with Messi himself,” he laughs, sipping on his sangria.

There’s a pause, a flicker in your eyes, as you reply. “Well, you talk about cars like you were born in one.”

You share a knowing look. The masks are cracking but not quite broken. Not yet. There’s fun to be had and more summer to enjoy.

—

The last week of your vacations approaches. A parting is imminent but Mick presents an offer, “I’m … going to a race next week. Formula 1, in Zandvoort. As a mechanic, of course,” he adds with a wink. “Would you like to come along?”

Your heart jumps. Attending a Grand Prix? The thought is electric. “I’d love to,” you say, despite the beating in your chest.

So you’re whisked off to the Netherlands, to the world of racing and roaring engines. In the paddock, Mick introduces you as a friend. There’s an energy here, a tangible excitement. It mirrors what you felt watching your father in Camp Nou and Parc des Princes and now DRV PNK stadium. It’s intoxicating. You understand why Mick loves it.

And then it happens.

“Lewis,” he greets a man passing by with a quick nod and beaming smile. You recognize him, even though your previous encounters were during award show red carpets and VIP parties you could barely remember the next morning. Lewis stops dead in his tracks as he spots you. “Y/N?” he questions, reaching for a hug. “What are you doing here? I would’ve gotten you a pass if I knew you wanted to come.”

Your eyes widen as Mick watches the exchange. “You know each other” he asks, the words thick with confusion.

Lewis laughs, “Of course, she’s Leo’s daughter.”

The shock in Mick’s eyes doesn’t fade away.

“You know … Leo Messi,” Lewis is quick to clarify.

The silence hangs heavy. Mick looks at you, betrayal written across his face but there’s understanding too. “And you’re Mick Schumacher, Michael’s son. God, I feel so stupid,” the realization dawns.

For a moment, nothing. Then, Mick smiles. “Guess we’re pretty bad at keeping secrets, huh?”

“Or pretty good,” you retort. “Depending on how you look at it.”

You both laugh, the sound echoing through the Mercedes garage. When you're together, you’re not Mick Schumacher and Y/N Messi but just Mick and Y/N again. You’re more than the gargantuan shadows of your last names.

The end of summer isn’t a goodbye, it’s a beginning. The beginning of something new, something real. Even under the intense scrutiny of the world, you hold onto each other, two hearts beating as one.

And that, in the end, is the true victory.

—

taglist: @musingsbyshreya

#f1 imagine #mick schumacher imagine #f1 x reader #mick schumacher x reader #f1 x you #mick schumacher x you #f1 #mick schumacher #ms47 #f1 fic #mick schumacher fic #f1 fanfic #mick schumacher fanfiction #f1 fluff #mick schumacher fluff #f1 blurb #mick schumacher blurb #f1 one shot #f1 fanfiction #f1 drabble #formula 1 #f1blr #f1 fandom #f1 x y/n #mick schumacher x y/n

[mommywommymunchkins]

Kiss me ~ Karen Shetty x Fem! Reader

Synopsis: Karen being gay in the school hallway

—————————————————————————

Y/n stood by her locker, surrounded by her group of friends, basking in the glow of popularity that seemed to follow her everywhere. She laughed at something one of her friends said, flipping her hair over her shoulder with practiced nonchalance. It was just another typical day in school, filled with gossip, laughter, and the occasional drama.

But then, out of nowhere, a girl from the infamous clique known as the Plastics, Karen Shetty, came running up to Y/n with a determined look in her eyes.

"Kiss me," Karen demanded, her voice urgent and breathless.

Y/n's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "I'm sorry, what?" she replied, incredulous.

Before Y/n could fully process what was happening, Karen closed the gap between them and pressed her lips against Y/n's in a long, passionate kiss. It was unexpected, intense, and completely out of left field. Y/n's mind raced as she tried to comprehend what was going on. Who was this girl, and why was she kissing her?

Despite the initial shock, Y/n found herself leaning into the kiss, her body responding instinctively to Karen's touch. There was something undeniably electric about the way they fit together, as if they were two pieces of a puzzle finally finding their match.

As the kiss finally came to an end, Karen pulled away with a mischievous glint in her eye. She leaned in close to Y/n's ear, her breath warm against her skin.

"My ex walked by," Karen whispered, her voice dripping with satisfaction, before sauntering off to rejoin her group of friends.

Y/n was left standing there, utterly bewildered by what had just transpired. Her friends exchanged confused glances, but before anyone could say anything, the bell rang, signaling the start of class.

“What the f*ck”

—————————————————————————

#fem reader #mean girls #avantika #karen shetty #mean girls musical #reader insert #regina george #karen shetty x reader #avantika x reader

[patricia-taxxon]

synopsizing the movie that plays in my head every time i listen to nascent by alexander panos

this probably isn't as interesting to read as it is for me to imagine in my own head, but i wanted to write it down. maybe u will have fun imagining it too

1. Q Windswept

This is the intro to the album, you pretty much get every flavor of sound that the album has to offer in one short burst. This is the title sequence & opening credits, where all the nonexistent animators & vfx artists would go. I imagine big bunches of text popping into existence with each impact.

2. Cycles

This track is in a weird spot, it's the longest one & it was made much earlier. It sounds like it's in a different world, so I treat it as an establishing montage of the human world. We're introduced to the protagonist, who I'll call Alex for convenience but doesn't necessarily represent the real life producer behind the music, represented by a live action human actor for the time being. The track feels like writer's block, frustration, pounding on a desk, (the domp domp bit) pacing around the room, moments of existential fear in between the doldrums of solitude, the wubs and crashes are a transformation that is barely being held back. Twilight depression montage.

3. Sutter

Sutter begins the purely synthetic "internal" portion of the record. We enter a liminal/metaphorical space. Alex spasms and transforms into a 2D animated dog furry while floating far above a green field with too much synthetic blue in its hue. Huge wide shots of Alex's body flying backwards with the artificial landscape in the background, hitting with those massive manipulated vocal hits. The track ends with him slowing and coming to a gentle rest on the grass.

4. 36523_red/blue

Alex opens his eyes, sees only the pure "blue screen of death" shade of blue in the sky. Abstract glitches and squiggles zap across the screen in time with the music. Alex is beginning to ruminate, represented by him drawing patterns with his paws in the sky as the track begins to pick up a consistent tempo. The glitches and patterns are played with his fingers, building in intensity until the climax shows a vast mirror that fills the entire sky approaching rapidly, and then slowing, the dog boy in the reflection growing until it comes face to face with the viewer, and then a cut to black.

5. reasonsnotto

Lights are out, audio-reactive abstract animations shudder into being with the synthetic voice, warping and pulsing with the track's modulations. In the moments when Alex's real voice pokes through the synthetic mush, his dog form coalesces, still blurry and struggling to become fully contiguous until the very end, where Alex sings the album's thesis directly to the camera, against a pure black background.

6. Dream Extinction

He breaks the mirror here, the impacts are his fists striking the surface and releasing burning waves of fire and electricity. At the end, the part with the consistent bursts, he begins clawing at his reflection, screaming, seizure inducing flashing lights imply that this hurts him too. As the track calms down, the mirror disintegrates.

7. Equinox (Prelude)

This track begins the portion of the album that is trying to claw itself back into reality. He's not there yet, beyond the mirror Alex finds another liminal space, a primordial river, and as the track builds, more concrete images begin to flash into existence before crumbling again. He can't get out, he doesn't want to get out. He shields his eyes, cut to black.

8. Equinox

This is the bit where Alex says a poem to himself and runs back to reality with all his might. Emphasize the "You flake, you human life" line, he says it with gritted canine teeth and his doggy ears lowered, resolved to claw back to his humanity. After that exalted rush of light and color passes, he opens a door, and slams it behind him.

9. catch it

This track is resurfacing, coming back to reality. The synthetic glitches fall back completely, icons of a city street come into existence, populating the white void in time with those guitar chords. Alex isn't visible yet, but the images are revealed to be the view outside his window. The POV shot looks down, and he sees his human hands again.

10. re:Turning

Ok, this part is so cliched & shmaltzy that it makes me embarrassed to write it out, but there's only one conclusion this story can have. The glitches re-emerge, the synthetic elements that were previously contained come back again. It's his fur. The dog re-emerges, Alex transforms again like a magical girl before opening his front door & singing the final hook, walking through a live action environment with shapes and colors from his liminal space following him. The paradox is resolved. He is multitude.

thanks for reading.

#mini essay #cilantromixture #Alexander Panos

[bookworm551]

Take the Edge Off | Part 9 | Stitches

Summary: After a failed mission, Miguel needs to patch you up.

A/N: well, new year, new chapter (finally). I’m getting real close to finishing up this series, maybe 2 more parts. This took forever bc I needed a filler and had no idea what to do, and this is also the longest part so far. At least I know where to go from here, so I should have the next part up relatively soon 💀

Warnings: smut (duh), canon-typical violence, wound care

10.2k words

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 10

You had grossly underestimated how difficult catching Ghost would be.

The main issue was finding him. He was smart, and he seemed to realize that anytime he spent too much time in one dimension, you and the team would pounce, and like water in your hand, he always managed to slip away. The closest you came to catching him was about three weeks after your bet, and it was an absolute shit show.

"Fuck me," you grunted under your breath when another explosion knocked you into the wall. Ghost came from a universe with hammerspace, and every new dimension he traveled to, he managed to store away more and more dangerous equipment. Now, you were there in some alleyway, half your team missing, fighting off a barrage of missiles, bombs, and sharp projectiles.

Across from you, Ben was tangled in a net trap, and Malala was groaning on the floor as she recovered from an intense electrical shock. Clenching your jaw, you leapt off the wall at Ghost. You were getting aggravated by how difficult this was. Why couldn't he be a regular villain and let you catch him?

Anticipating your move, Ghost jumped out of the way. You webbed him and yanked him toward yourself. Rather than fighting your pull, Ghost flew at you and pounced on your form, knocking you flat on your back. He drove his fists into your ribs, and you cried out as electricity coursed through your body. He held his fists, adorned in makeshift gauntlets, to you as you lay paralyzed by pain.

"Where's the big guy?" He asked you, his voice low and silky. "He's always a good time." You weren't even able to breathe from the shocks pulsing in your ribs, but before you would've been able to answer him, your attention was captured by the sight of a yellow portal to your right.

For one dreadful moment, you thought it was Ghost's escape. His slippery nature was due to the watch he had stolen from Ben all those months ago, and it seemed almost impossible to keep him in one dimension long enough to catch him.

To your tremendous relief however, Miguel's muscular form flew out of the portal, knocking the anomaly off of your body. You took a ragged breath as the two men tumbled to your side. "Oh! Here you are!" Ghost laughed, pushing himself off the floor to face Miguel. "We were just talking about you."

Miguel turned his head for a moment to assess your form still gasping for breath. "You're late," you wheezed to him as you rolled onto your side to stand up again. You'd been here fighting alongside Ben and Malala since the alert from Lyla had gone out, and Miguel was only just now showing up. You didn't even know where Jess and the others were.

Seeing that you were well enough to give him sass, Miguel turned back to face Ghost, shooting a web that Ghost easily avoided. "You missed," he teased, but he was quickly eating his words when Miguel yanked the dumpster he had webbed instead and slammed it into the arrogant anomaly.

While Ghost was still recovering from his hit, Miguel threw his containment unit device at Ghost’s form. It slid right next to him, but a microsecond before it deployed, the anomaly rolled away, causing the orange force field to envelop nothing.

"Interesting," Ghost stated, sounding genuinely fascinated as he observed the glowing orange cage. You huffed in irritation, finally managing to sit up now that your muscles weren't spasming anymore. As much as you usually enjoyed banter with your enemies, you were not in the mood.

Miguel lunged after Ghost, who pulled another weapon seemingly out of nowhere and fired a spray of spinning razors at him. Miguel began twisting through the air, managing to evade every blade with expert precision.

Unfortunately for you, your screaming muscles weren’t able to move quite as fast as you needed. You leapt through the air to try and dodge the razors, but midair, one clipped you right in the shoulder, cutting deep from the front of your shoulder down almost to your back.

You cried out in pain, slamming hard into the ground as you fell. The wind was knocked out of your lungs, and you lay there struggling to breathe while hot pain blossomed in your shoulder.

Hearing your pained cry, Miguel froze, his body automatically turning to find you. You lay there a moment before moving to roll onto your good side. You pushed yourself up with a groan, and you were surprised to find Miguel at your side and pressing you back down to the floor. “Don’t move,” he urged as he gently held you down.

Even though his face was hidden, you could see he was examining your wound. “I’m fine,” you grunted, moving to sit up again. Miguel must’ve seen that you weren’t too terribly wounded and watched you carefully while you sat up off the ground before finally saying, “Okay.”

Together, you turned back to face Ghost. He was standing with a curious look on his face and an unsettling smile on his lips. “Now, that is interesting,” he said. Before either of you could move at him, Malala came swinging in a blur and knocked the anomaly off his feet. “I’m getting real tired of his gabbing,” she muttered, sounding as aggravated as you felt.

Ghost didn’t stay down for long. “It seems I’ve overstayed my welcome,” he observed. He quickly typed something into his watch, and a portal opened up beside him. “No!” Miguel snarled, leaving your side to lunge after him. You also stood up, grinding your teeth in pain as you leapt after him.

To buy himself time, Ghost threw down two small capsules that flashed brightly, making you balk. When the sun spots faded from your eyes, there was still a thick cloud of smoke around you, causing you to cough weakly. Your eyes scanned the alley for your rival, and you found him scooping up the containment unit device Miguel had thrown.

You flung yourself at him, trying to web the device from his hands. Hitting his arm, you pulled him forward with all your strength. He flew at your body, but when you raised a hand to hit him with your bad arm, pain flared from your shoulder and caused you to stumble, and you only managed a weak punch.

Seeing your pain, Ghost pulled a knife out of who-knows-where and severed the line between you. Scrambling away, he jumped for the portal and fell inside it just as Miguel tried to catch him, and within a breath, the portal to an unknown dimension closed.

“No!” Miguel shouted in frustration, his fist punching the wall where the portal had been mere seconds ago. You let out an aggravated breath. This was the closest you had ever been to catching Ghost, so frustratingly close that it made your chest burn in anger.

There was a tense second where nobody spoke. You could see that Miguel was breathing hard. At your side, Malala stood up with a heavy sigh and moved over to help Ben who was still entangled in a net.

Miguel whirled on you. “What happened?!” Miguel shouted at you. You gaped at him incredulously. “You’re asking me?!” You shot back angrily. “Where the hell were you when the alert went out?”

Miguel’s mask retracted to reveal his scowling face. “We had him!” he snarled, ignoring your question and directing his anger towards you.

Your frustration boiled in your chest. Not only had Miguel been late to the call, but his accusatory words were some of the first that he had spoken directly to you since he added you to the team. It had been weeks since you had spoken to each other. It seemed as though since your last encounter, he had been avoiding you. Your interactions had been brief and relevant only to the mission, and you hadn’t even spent any time alone together since you had been added to the team.

“Yeah, we had him,” you repeated angrily, your own mask retracting. “We had him until you stopped going after him.” His face contorted into a scowl, and his figure towered over you. “You had plenty of time to incapacitate him,” he argued.

You scoffed. “Yeah, I had plenty of time waiting for you to show up,” you shot back. “And as soon as you do, you turn your back on him.”

“You were hurt,” he stated sharply. His eyes fell to your shoulder, and you thought that some of his anger dissipated from his face. “You are hurt,” he corrected himself, his voice still sharp but a bit less angry.

You almost scoffed again, but when you looked down at your shoulder, you grimaced. Your suit had retracted around your cut, exposing the deep slice in your shoulder. In your adrenaline-fueled state, you had only briefly felt it, but now, seeing it slowly oozing blood, the pain was suddenly very noticeable.

"Shit," you sighed under your breath. You were used to dressing your own wounds, but this one was in a spot that was going to be difficult to treat. "I'll be fine," you said dismissively.

Miguel seemed to compose himself a little bit. He closed his eyes with a deep sigh before looking back at your shoulder. "You need stitches," he said.

You rolled your eyes. "I said I'll be fine," you repeated firmly. "Don't be stupid," he replied in a flat voice. "And don't try to tell me you can do it yourself." You closed your mouth and huffed. That's exactly what you were about to say.

"Fine, I'll get Jess to do it," you stated in exasperation. "Happy?"

"Like hell you will," he muttered, typing something into his watch. A portal opened beside you, and Miguel looked back at you, irritation still evident on his face though perhaps not so much as before.

"What?" You asked expectantly. He shot you an impatient look. "Go," he told you sharply. You shifted your stance defiantly, stubbornly remaining where you were. "I don't want to go with you," you argued. He sighed in exasperation. "Would you stop being so damn stubborn and go through the stupid portal?" He snapped.

You stared up at him in contempt. His demanding tone and harsh mannerisms made you feel resistant to accepting any of his help. After ignoring you for weeks and snapping at you during this failure of a mission, he was the last person you wanted seeing you in pain.

You both continued staring at each other, each refusing to look away first. You felt blood oozing down your back, and the pain was really starting to radiate in your shoulder. Miguel stared at you with a deadpan expression, knowing it was only a matter of time before you would give in.

You realized with a wave of aggravation that he was going to win your staring standoff. With a sigh, you grit your teeth together and looked down in defeat. "Fine," you muttered sourly. Pushing past him, you walked into the portal and didn't bother looking back to see if he was coming.

You weren't quite sure what you were expecting on the other side of the portal, but you were somewhat surprised to find yourself standing in Miguel's room. It was just as you remembered it from weeks ago— simple, neat, and barely used.

From behind you, Miguel stepped into the room, not even sparing you a glance before heading to the bathroom. You hesitated for a moment before reluctantly following after him. He pulled out a large black bag onto the counter space filled with all sorts of medical equipment. He was laying out materials for suturing as you walked in.

"Sit."

You scoffed in annoyance. "I know you know how to say please," you grumbled. He didn't respond, turning to his sink to wash his hands rather than answering you. If you had been in a pettier mood, you wouldn't have moved until he asked nicely, but you were in pain and ready to get it over with, so you pushed yourself up onto the counter by the sink and waited for him.

Miguel pulled a pair of gloves over his hands and inspected your wound carefully. "Your suit," he said flatly, indicating that it was in the way. Sighing, you let your suit retract just enough to reveal half your torso for him. It didn't matter that this man had seen you completely naked on several occasions, you weren't going to give him the satisfaction of seeing you undressed now, even if he was only going to stitch you up.

Miguel began with wiping away the blood from the skin around your wound. You flinched hard. The pressure he used was light but still painful, and you closed your eyes to fight the grimace that was trying to show. It took you a second to realize that this was the first time he'd touched you in weeks.

Despite your irritation towards him, you couldn’t help but notice how closely he was standing to you. From the corner of your eye, you watched his face as he worked diligently to take care of you. His eyebrows were slightly scrunched as he focused his attention on your skin, and there was only the sounds of his soft, steady breathing in your ear.

When he was satisfied with how your skin looked, he sprayed antiseptic on it before asking, “Do you want something for the pain?” You considered it for half a moment before shaking your head. You had managed stitches before, and it wasn’t as painful as some other shit you’d experienced before.

He waited to see if you’d change your mind before lifting the threaded needle with his forceps. Despite your resolution against painkillers, you ground your teeth as the needle punctured your skin. "Sorry," Miguel murmured softly as he pulled the suture through your skin. He was obviously trying to work as gently as possible, but pain was inevitable with suturing.

Taking a deep breath and closing your eyes, you tried your best to ignore the pain, but with how slowly he was going and how thick the tension was, you knew you were going to need a distraction.

"Are you sure we couldn't have just used butterfly stitches?" You asked sourly as he pulled the thread again. "Yes," he replied firmly. "This is deep. You got lucky, too. If it had been just a few inches over, the blade would've hit your neck, and you'd need a lot more than sutures."

"It wasn't luck," you replied pointedly. "It was skill." Miguel gave a disbelieving snort as he pulled the thread tight. "If you really had skill, it wouldn't have hit you at all," he mumbled.

You huffed indignantly. "Oh, please," you began, "don't pretend like you haven't had to take a few hits before. It's practically in the job description."

Miguel didn't reply as he pierced the needle through your skin again, causing you to wince at the pain. You thought he was going to make some sharp bullshit retort about how he didn't get as hurt as you, but instead, he just sighed.

"This was too close," he murmured at last.

Your defensive attitude softened considerably at his words. Studying his face closely, you realized that he wasn't being critical, he was being protective. With your new understanding, you almost felt bad for being angry at him.

"I've had closer," you told him wryly. He frowned. "Is that supposed to make me feel better?" He asked in a dull voice. You have a small huff in amusement. "It's supposed to show you that you don't have to worry about me," you explained earnestly.

He didn't say anything to you as he continued sewing up your cut. The sting of the needle caused you to wince again, and you tried to think of something to talk about to distract you from the pain.

"At least I don't have to fix up my suit," you said at last, hoping he would pick up the conversation. Miguel hummed before replying, "It's almost impossible to destroy unstable molecule fabric."

You raised an eyebrow at him. "Well if it was impossible to destroy, wouldn't it protect me from even getting cut?"

"That's not how it works," he told you flatly.

"So then how does it work?"

He gave a short sigh, indicating to you that he was not in the mood to entertain your curiosity. Nevertheless, he did. "The molecules work almost as a form of energy," he explained. "They assess the host molecules and change with them. The suit learns your body and reacts with it."

Another stitch was added, but you didn't feel it quite as much as before.

"When you were cut, it didn't destroy the suit," he continued, "it interrupted it. Your skin was damaged, and the suit left it exposed because your wound isn't the default for the molecules."

You studied his face as he spoke, a smile slowly growing on your lips. When he had finished explaining the science of the suit, he seemed to feel your stare and glanced down at you, raising an eyebrow in suspicion.

"Nerd," you said at last.

That seemed to pull him out of his grumpiness somewhat, and he turned his attention back to your shoulder. "You asked," he mumbled, but the sharp edge that was in his voice was gone.

"So then how does the suit retract into my web shooters?" You asked, genuinely interested in knowing more about the fascinating technology you wore everyday, and it definitely helped distract you from the pain.

"Since the suit can take on an energy form," he explained, "it can be stored in the web shooters as a form of data." You stared down at the web shooters on your wrists. It was amazing that such an unsuspecting piece of technology housed such powerful energy.

"They look just like my old pair," you noted. Miguel nodded, his eyes never leaving your shoulder as he worked. "I know, that's what I was aiming for," he said, "but I was thrown off by the web cartridges you use."

You smirked. "Pretty cool, right?" You said proudly. "I built a system that condenses the water in the air and converts it into a hydropolymer to supplement my web supply. It's not as strong as my original formula, but it saves me from having a web block."

Miguel's eyebrows lifted somewhat as he listened. If you hadn't known better, you could almost say he was impressed. He must've noticed your staring because he turned his eyes to meet yours, and his face softened.

"Nerd," he said.

You smiled in return and rolled your eyes. "Whatever," you mumbled playfully. His lips widened fractionally, and his eyes returned back to your shoulder. You felt more relaxed now. The anger and irritation you were feeling before had disappeared as soon as you saw him smile.

"How's it looking, doc?" You asked after a moment, trying to turn your head to see his progress. “Don’t move your head,” Miguel said and nudged your face with the back of his wrist. "And you're not going to be doing any swinging for the next few days.” Your eyes snapped up to look at him. "It's not that bad," you argued weakly. "I'll be fine."

Miguel gave you a stern look. "In your shoulder, it is that bad," he said. "If you tear this, it's going to scar even worse than it's already going to now."

You rolled your eyes again. "Well, you know better than most that this isn't my first or worst scar," you argued, "and it probably won't be my last." It was true. Your body was covered in scars large and small, old and new, and this was just another addition to your collection.

Miguel didn't reply to you. He had worked steadily from the back of your shoulder to the front, but the closer he got to your neck, the worse the pain felt. You did your best to remain neutral, but you couldn't help the small grunt of discomfort that sounded in your throat. Miguel heard it and asked gently, "Do you want something for the pain?"

You shook your head in response. "I have my own stuff," you told him before a crooked grin pulled on your lips. "But you know what I've heard is a natural pain killer?" You added slyly.

Miguel heard the mischief in your voice, and he looked back at your face with suspicion. "What?" He asked carefully.

In a sweet tone, you answered, "Kissing."

Miguel gave you a disapproving look, but you caught the ghost of a smile on his lips. "I told you not until we get the anomaly," he said pointedly.

You weren't discouraged by his assertion. "I just want to see if it works," you told him innocently. "It's an experiment."

"With an ulterior motive."

"The motive is to get rid of the pain."

He still wore a skeptical look, so you tried again. "It's for science," you explained, batting your eyes at him. After weeks of not touching him, you longed to feel his body against your own.

Miguel was unconvinced. He gave an unimpressed hum and pulled his needle through your skin again. It seemed he wasn't going to budge. Heaving a large sigh, you continued, "But if you don't want to participate, maybe I'll find someone else who does."

Miguel pulled his stitch tight, making you wince. "I bet you think that's funny," he said in a flat voice.

"I bet you don't," you shot back.

"Because it's not."

"Well," you began slowly, hesitating as you wondered if you should even start this conversation with him. You’d thought a lot about him the past few weeks, and barely seeing him for weeks now had made you realize that being a casual fling wasn’t what you wanted anymore. "I know you've expressed many times that this isn't a relationship,” you said carefully, “so I don't really see what the issue is."

Your heart was beating a little faster now. Your words opened the door to a conversation that you were both eager and terrified to have. You wanted desperately to know how he felt about you, about whatever this was between you. You were also nervous that he didn't feel what you felt or want what you wanted.

At your words, Miguel's face darkened. He stayed quiet for a second before he resumed suturing. "If that's what you want," he muttered at last.

There was a tense silence that settled between you. You stared up at his hardened face, trying to determine what he was thinking.

"It's not," you replied quietly, "but being on this break got me thinking."

"About?"

"About how I feel about this whole arrangement."

The tense silence returned. Miguel's eyes were fixed determinedly on your shoulder, and his eyebrows furrowed as he listened to what you said.

"You want to end it?" He asked, his voice level and neutral.

"No," you said a bit too quickly. "It's just..." you trailed off, trying to think of the best way to tell him what you wanted. Doubt nibbled at your mind, and you wondered if this was even a good idea at all.

Miguel noticed your apprehension, and he stopped sewing your wound to give you his undivided attention. His dark eyes met yours, and he was so close to you that it caused your heart to flutter.

You looked away to regain your thoughts. "I know that this is supposed to be a casual thing," you began slowly. "And I know what you said about time and relationships. I just..." you sighed, shifting uncomfortably on the counter. "I don't want to be just a diversion for you, a mindless distraction that you can pick up or put down as you please."

Your face burned as you spoke, and you couldn't bring yourself to look at his face. Miguel murmured your name softly, and you closed your eyes to keep from seeing his reaction.

"If that's still what you still want, that's fine," you continued quickly. "I'm not trying to force you into something you don't want." You sighed as you opened your eyes again. "That's just how I feel," you finished quietly.

Silence enveloped you, suffocating, nerve-wracking silence. After a couple heartbeats, you forced yourself to look up at Miguel. He was still staring at you, but instead of wearing an awkward or even condescending expression as you had expected, his face was soft, almost thoughtful.

You stared at each other quietly for a moment longer before he finally turned his gaze back to your shoulder. Picking up his hands again, he began working on your sutures without reply.

Your stomach tightened anxiously at his silence, and you felt a wave of disappointment wash over you. You didn't feel the pain of your wound anymore now that your mind was racing with what you just said and Miguel's utter lack of response.

"It's not that I don't want it," he said at last. "Because I do."

Your eyes shot up to his face as he spoke. His gaze was still fixed on your stitches, but you could see clearly that he was thinking about what you just said.

"Then what is it?" You asked quietly.

Miguel took a moment to respond, his hands never ceasing their work. "I built my whole life around what we're doing here," he began slowly. "When I say I don't have time for a relationship, it means I can't give you the time you deserve." He glanced over at your face briefly before returning back to your shoulder, his eyes growing distant.

"The last time I let myself get close to someone, I hurt a lot of people," he added quietly. "More than I could ever make up for." He paused for a moment and sighed. "I just don't want to see that happen to you," he said softly.

Your heart ached. You remembered what he told you, how his actions triggered the destruction of a universe. The burden of his past still clearly weighed on his conscious, and you didn't know what to say to him to comfort him.

In the silence following, Miguel tied off the last stitch. With a pair of scissors from the kit, he snipped the line. You looked down at the neat row of sutures that held your cut closed. His work was precise, and you knew it was miles better than what you could've done by yourself.

Miguel was cleaning up his materials, clearly trying to avoid eye contact with you as he did. You watched for a second before taking a deep breath.

"You know, I've learned a lot of things since I was bitten by that stupid spider," you began, breaking the silence around you. "First, pain is unavoidable." You pointed to your shoulder's fresh stitches. "Case in point," you said wryly.

Miguel didn't react to your weak joke. He continued packing his materials away, but you could tell he was still listening to what you were saying.

"My second lesson," you continued, "was that I would always be alone."

Miguel paused, and his eyes turned back to your face. "There was nobody who knows what it's like to be me," you explained. "Nobody who knew what I've sacrificed. I had nobody to trust with this secret life, and the longer I did this, the more I regretted being Spider-Woman."

You stared down at the web shooters adorning your wrists as you contemplated your own words. You had never told anybody this before, not even the other Spiders. You had suffered so much by yourself, and only now for the first time did you feel like you could share your life with someone.

"But when I came here," you continued quietly, "it all changed. Suddenly, I was surrounded by people who did understand, who also felt how I did." You paused again, and you finally looked up at his face. His eyes were watching you with a look of understanding and sympathy that made your throat tighten unexpectedly.

Your eyes broke away from his stare again, and you stated quietly, "When you offered me a place here, I wasn't alone anymore."

Miguel nodded softly. "That's what I wanted," he replied. "A community for people like us." You tilted your head up at him and studied his countenance. "Then why do you still act like you're doing it alone?" You asked.

He sighed uncomfortably, crossing his arms in front of his chest and leaning against the sink counter. "In a lot of ways, I am doing it alone," he stated quietly. "Everyone here enjoys doing the missions, seeing all the new dimensions, and meeting new Spiders. I'm the one who has to do all the damage control, the recruitment, the dirty work." He sighed again and muttered grimly, "I don't always like what I have to do."

You raised an eyebrow at his melodramatic statement. "You know, it would probably be more enjoyable if you actually interacted with the other Spiders," you told him with a pointed look.

Miguel huffed a short breath. "I'm not trying to get close to anyone," he stated firmly. That made you pause and tilt your head in interest. "Then what am I?" You asked, a curious smile pulling at your mouth.

His gloomy expression lifted somewhat as he looked at you. He uncrossed his arms and planted them on the counter on either side of your body, and he stared at your face thoughtfully. You stared back, waiting for an answer.

"You," he began slowly, "were a distraction to take the edge off." You hummed thoughtfully in response, wrapping your legs around his waist to bring him closer. "And now?" You prompted, your eyes falling to his lips.

"And now," he echoed, "you're the person I bring back to my room to stitch up because I don't trust anyone else to do it."

You smiled at him, and your stomach fluttered at how close he was to you. You wanted so badly to kiss him. Your lips yearned for the feeling of his mouth against yours.

"I guess that makes me pretty special," you replied smugly.

A glimmer of reluctant amusement shone in his face, and he tilted his head in mock consideration. "I think 'special' is a stretch," he stated coolly. You placed a hand over your heart dramatically. "Ouch," you gasped. "And you wonder why I joke about going to other people."

He raised an eyebrow at you. "I don't wonder," he stated. "I know exactly why you do it."

"And why is that?" You asked coyly.

Miguel shot you an unconvinced look. "Because it gets under my skin, and you know it," he replied. You smirked, unable to deny the truth in his statement.

"If that's true, then that would make me a horrible person," you told him.

"You are a horrible person."

Your smile widened, and with your good arm, you raised your hand to his chest and let it slowly wander up to wrap behind his neck. "Then why do you like me?" You asked innocently.

Miguel was looking at your lips now, and there was a hint of playfulness in his face. "'Like' is a strong word," he said thoughtfully. "I think 'tolerate' is more accurate."

You rolled your eyes with a smile. "Damn, is there anything in the first aid kit for a broken heart?" You joked. He couldn't stop himself from smiling softly at your theatrics. "You're ridiculous," he said.

You hummed, pulling him closer to your face. "You love it," you insisted. His nose brushed against yours before he repeated, "I tolerate it." You chuckled and gave a careful shrug. "Same difference," you said before pulling his lips down against yours.

You couldn't resist smiling against his lips as you kissed him for the first time in weeks. You were savoring every sweet second of his body against yours. His mouth moved slowly against your own, and he snaked an arm around your torso, making your face glow with a faint blush.

His words echoed in your head. It's not that I don't want it. So, he did feel the same way you did, or at least, to some degree he did. The thought alone made your stomach flutter, and you ran your fingers through his hair while trying to memorize how his lips felt against yours.

When you finally broke apart, you still wore a smile on your face as his forehead rested on yours. "Oh wow, that does help with the pain," you commented. The pain had subsided considerably when his mouth was pressed against yours.

Miguel chuckled and kissed you again briefly. "Consider your experiment a success," he said. You hummed thoughtfully. "I would be an irresponsible scientist if I didn't repeat my experiment to prove its validity," you argued, earning a smile from him before you pressed your lips to his again.

It felt so good to kiss him, especially after the shitty failure that was today's mission, and the warmth of his body melted all your troubles away from your mind. You didn't care about the mission or your injury. He was here with you, everything else could wait.

With your fingers still running through his hair, you grabbed a fistful of jet-black strands and deepened your kiss, pushing your tongue into his mouth with a sigh. His hand on your waist tightened while he grunted softly into your mouth.

Breaking away from your lips, Miguel murmured your name in a low, warning voice. "Hmm?" You replied innocently, looking up at his dark eyes through your lashes. "We had an agreement," he said.

"Yeah, when I was on the team," you told him. "But you just said that I need to lay off for a few days..." you gave him a pointed look, "...which means I'm technically off the team for a few days..." you pulled his face back down to yours, "...which means that our agreement is null and void."

With that, you pressed your lips to his in a deep kiss before he could argue back. It was a weak argument, and you knew it, but you didn't want him to challenge it. You wanted him to want you.

His grip around your waist tightened as he pushed against your tongue with his own. You couldn't help the small moan you gave as his passion began to show, and all the longing you'd been feeling for Miguel the past couple weeks began welling up inside you.

Your lips separated for a moment. "Treacherous," he murmured breathlessly against your skin. You hummed, blinking your eyes open to look at him. His face looked restless, and you knew he was hungry for more.

"So I've been told," you replied smugly as you moved your lips down to his neck. Miguel gave a deep sigh at the feeling of your kisses on his sensitive skin, skin that felt warm and soft to the touch.

In your growing desire for him, your teeth gently nipped his bare flesh. Miguel sucked in a sharp breath at the sensation, his fingers gripping your waist tightly as he whispered your name again. You smiled deviously as his reaction, and your legs wrapped around his hips to bring his body flush against yours.

"Give me more," you mumbled against his skin. Miguel took a second to respond, his breathing ragged as he tried to keep his composure. "You're hurt," he argued weakly. Based on his strained voice, you knew he had all but given in to the craving of your touch. You raised your head up so that you could look him in his dark, restless eyes, noses brushing gently as you were both panting lightly in anticipation.

"Then make me feel better."

That was all you had to say before he kissed you with the hunger of a touch-starved man. He pulled you off the sink in one swift movement, holding you upright with your legs still wrapped around his waist, and walked out of the bathroom to where his bed was waiting for you both.

Finally, you thought. The tension between you these past few weeks had been torture. Seeing each other around HQ after your last encounter and not saying a word in passing was aggravating, and you had been longing for the moment when you could wrap your arms (and legs) around him again.

When his legs hit the side of the bed, he lowered you carefully down onto it. You still had your good arm wrapped around his shoulders, and when he placed you on the top of his bed, you hissed in pain and clung to his body. The edge of your stitched-up wound had touched the comforter, making it sting. 

"Maybe not like this," you said with a light chuckle.

A flash of concern crossed Miguel's face when he realized your pain, and he moved to roll off of you. Still holding yourself close to his body, you rolled with him and found yourself straddling his lap.

With a smirk, you hovered your face over his. "Much better," you stated smugly. Miguel was still assessing your face for any traces of discomfort. "Are you sure you're up for this?" He asked. You shot him a look. You would've thought he was trying to find a way out of it if it weren't for the fact that his fingers were unconsciously trying to move your hips against his hardening cock.

"I've been craving you for weeks," you whispered against his lips. "It would take more than this to keep me off of you." His face gave way to a smile at your words, a true smile that filled his whole face. Fuck, he looked so good. The way he lit up with you knocked the wind out of you, and you could've stayed there forever just admiring the beautiful smile he had before he raised his head to kiss you.

You leaned into him, growing hot with desire. Your suit, so attuned to what your body wanted, retracted all the way back to your web shooters. Miguel's hands traced across the skin of your torso as his tongue slid against yours, and his suit also disappeared from his body.

Feeling his skin against yours set your heart racing. His fingertips felt electric as his hands wandered up your back to unclasp your bra. Careful not to hit your new stitches, he removed it from your body, taking in the sight of your bare body with a lustful expression before lowering his head to take one of your breasts in his mouth.

You sucked in a sharp breath as he moved his mouth sloppily over your skin. Leaning into him, you ran a hand through his dark hair and grabbed fistfuls of the strands. You missed this, the feeling of him exploring your body. It was so much more than taking the edge off now. It was almost like a form of worship.

"Feeling better?" He murmured, tilting his head up to watch your enraptured expression. "Mhmm," you hummed, a lazy smile pulling at your lips. "But don't you dare stop."

Miguel smirked. "Wasn't planning on it," he replied in a low voice. As he spoke, his hands slid down your body and began pushing your underwear down over your ass. Leaning forward, you lifted your legs to allow his hands to remove your last piece of clothing.

You were breathing hard in anticipation now. You placed sloppy kisses on his chest, his neck, practically any of his tanned skin that you could reach. From his throat, the softest little moans sounded in response to your touch, and each fueled your desire. In your desperation, your teeth grazed his skin again.

His breath caught in his throat, and his fingers dug into your skin. You smirked, enjoying his reaction to your teasing. "You like that, don't you?" You observed slyly. Before you could give him the opportunity to respond, you bit down on the muscle at the base of his neck, not enough to be painful but enough to leave a mark.

He moaned loudly, an unrestrained sound that demonstrated the power you had over him. You released the skin between your teeth before moving them up his neck and biting him there, gentler than before. You were fairly certain he stopped breathing for a moment as you bit down on his soft skin. When the moment passed, you let go again, moving your mouth up and nipping his earlobe.

Miguel was practically paralyzed by your touch, and you could feel his heart racing wildly under your hand. He was completely at your mercy, unable to stop you even if he had wanted to.

But you knew he didn't want you to stop.

Still holding a fistful of his hair, you pulled firmly and tilted his head back to expose his neck to you. Letting his earlobe slip out of your teeth, you moved your mouth to his jaw, placing a kiss on the skin there before gently biting it.

He groaned your name. There was a desperate edge to his voice that made your cunt ache for him. When you moved your lips up to his, he kissed you with such fervor that it was less like he was kissing you and more like he was trying to devour you, like being completely pressed against you wasn't close enough.

"I need to...be inside you," he gasped, his lips still trying to kiss you as he spoke. He sounded as breathless as you felt, and when you opened your eyes to look at him, his eyes were hungry with his desire for you.

Maybe if it hadn't been so long since you'd been together, you would've prolonged the teasing, exacerbated his frustration, but you found that you were also desperate to feel him inside you. Every inch of your body burned for him, and you knew he burned for you, too.

Settling back down slowly on his lap, you allowed Miguel to guide your hips to his cock. Your forehead rested against his, and you gave a small gasp when you felt the tip tease at the entrance of your pussy. Giving Miguel another messy kiss, you lowered yourself down his length.

God, he felt good.

Your head lolled back as he stretched you out so perfectly for the first time in weeks. Miguel released a hot breath against the skin of your neck, his hands holding your hips tightly as he slid into your tight cunt.

"Oh, fuck," he whispered. "I've missed this."

If you had been in a clearer state of mind, you would've pointed out it was his own damn fault for making the stupid rule in the first place. But right now, the only thing on your mind was that you needed to move your body against his.

Raising your hips up again, a loud groan spilled from your lips. You'd almost forgotten just how big he was. His cock was buried deep inside you, setting every nerve on fire. Every muscle in your body tightened with the feeling of his dick sliding out of you, and your hands, one still in his hair and the other holding onto his back, curled tightly as you clung to him.

You moved back down again, your eyes closed tightly with the sensations of riding him. Miguel's hands gripped your waist tightly, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as you moved slowly up and down the length of his cock. His breathing was shaky, and so was yours. Neither of you said anything as you took the time to reacquaint yourselves with the feeling of each other's bodies.

You soon grew impatient with the slow pace you were keeping. You raised your hips off of his lap with greater need, grinding your pussy down hard against him as you did. Miguel's reaction was immediate, and you heard a growl deep in his throat. His hands encouraged your pace and eased some of the effort off of your knees.

The sound of your ass smacking against his lap filled the air, and combined with the sounds of his heavy panting, it only fueled your lust-crazed mind. Blinking open your eyes, you looked at Miguel and found that he was staring up at your face. A shimmer of sweat gleamed on his forehead, and his lips were parted as he breathed hard.

Your eyes locked with his dark gaze. Even as you continued to move along his length, you couldn't help but feel utterly paralyzed by his stare, so brazen and intentional, completely in awe of you. It made you feel powerful, revered.

Loved.

You managed to break out of your paralyzed stupor and crash your lips down on his. Now, you were the one who felt as though you couldn't be close enough to him. Even with his cock pumping in and out of you with ever-increasing speed, you wondered if there was anything that could satisfy your need for him.

Your pace was uncontrollable now. Small, whining moans escaped your mouth with every rise and fall of your hips. Miguel's fingers dug into your waist tightly, and he grunted as he pulled away from your lips.

"Wait," he gasped quietly.

Your eyes snapped open, and you froze. Was something wrong? Were you doing something he didn't like?

Miguel's face struggled to compose itself. "You need to slow down," he finally said. You stared at him for a second before you understood what was happening.

A wicked grin grew on your face. "Why?" You asked deviously. Miguel shot you a glare, his chest heaving. "You know why," he grunted. "Just slow down."

Still wearing your devilish smile, you started moving your hips again. "I don't want to," you told him, your words sounding almost childish as you choked back a whine. Miguel cursed under his breath, squeezing his eyes shut as he fought against the pleasure your cunt brought him.

"Wait, wait," he groaned again, trying to hold you still. Now, this was a power trip if you'd ever felt one. You knew you were only a few moments away from causing him to unravel. Now, he was begging you to ease up because he knew he couldn't last against you.

You grabbed his jaw in one hand, forcing his face to look up at you. "Why should I?" You demanded to know. He was panting hard, and his eyes seemed hazy and unfocused.

"I need to take care of you first," he managed to breathe. You huffed an amused breath. He never failed to get you off, and despite the fact that you were more than happy to finish him off in record timing, you were inclined to let him take over for you.

Miguel placed a soft kiss to your lips. "Let me take care of you," he pleaded in a whisper. "Let me taste you."

The thought alone of what he could do with his tongue was enough to make you moan. Instead of replying, you kissed him hard before lifting your hips up off of him entirely. You felt a twinge of regret from the loss of his cock inside you, but when he slowly rolled you over, the rush of anticipation quickly replaced it.

Miguel pulled you to the edge of the bed, careful not to cause your stitches to hit the comforter. With your good arm, you were propped up by your elbow while he slowly moved down your body. He placed tantalizing kisses on your throat, your collar, your breasts, your stomach, practically every inch of your body he could see. With every kiss, you felt like your body was slowly being set on fire, and you moaned impatiently as he slid off the edge of the bed and wrapped his arms under your thighs the way he loved to do.

When his mouth finally landed over your pussy, you nearly fell back against the bed. A cry of pleasure tore from your throat. The hand you weren't leaning on came up and grabbed his hair while you squirmed in his grip. His lips were sealed over your pussy. He was alternately sucking at your clit and circling it with his tongue. You struggled to breathe as he continued working at a careful pace.

"Miguel," you gasped, your thighs flexing beneath his hands.

Miguel moaned against you, his movements growing faster and faster. His head pressed firmly against you. Your heart was pounding furiously in your chest as you tried to keep your arm from buckling. His tongue moved expertly against you, lapping hungrily at your swollen clit. You tugged at his hair as you tried moving under his arms, but his grip kept you in place.

Your head fell back with a long whine. You knew at the rate he was going that you weren't going to last long. He was all too familiar with the way your body worked, and he knew exactly where to focus his efforts to get you off.

Lifting your head up again, you blinked your eyes open to look down at him. Half of his face was blocked by your arm, so you released the hold you had on his hair, letting your hand trace the edge of his face. His dark eyes were gazing up at you intently, watching your every reaction.

Letting your hand fall away from his face, it rested on your thigh as you let out another high-pitched moan. Without stopping his tongue, Miguel released his grip on your leg and took your hand in his. You looked down at him and squeezed his hand while he continued swirling his tongue over your pussy.

"Don't stop," you panted, your stomach tensing from his movement. He tightened his grip in two quick pulses, and even though his mouth never left your cunt, you could practically hear the words he was thinking—I won't.

Your legs were shaking now, and you barely had the strength to keep yourself up off the bed. Pleasure was taking over your body and coiling at your stomach. Miguel knew you were close by the quickening of your breath and the tightening of your grip, his tongue maintaining its steady pressure.

Finally, with a loud cry, your body began trembling under his touch. You squeezed his hand hard as you came against his mouth. The feeling of ecstasy burned in every part of your body while you struggled to breathe from the pleasure that had now completely overwhelmed you.

Miguel eased his pace to lazy circles, his eyes alight with smug satisfaction. You writhed under his mouth, growing restless from the overstimulation you were beginning to feel. "Oh, fuck," you gasped, moving your hips to escape his warm tongue. He let you move away from his face, releasing his grip on your hand and thigh.

Miguel pushed himself off the ground and began crawling over your body. "See?" he said in satisfaction, sounding out of breath. "I'll always take care of you." You moaned again, still trying to recover from your high. "Careful O'Hara," you managed to say. "Don't make promises you can't keep."

He smirked down at you, his lips and chin glistening with your wetness. Pushing forward, his body forced yours down. You wrapped one arm around his shoulders, clinging to him to keep from laying on the bed. "Not like this—my stitches," you whispered.

Miguel froze for a second before placing a hand behind your back to help you up. "How do you want it?" He asked quietly. You took a second and bit your lip as you considered the myriad of ways he could fuck you.

"Like before," you decided finally.

His subtle smile returned, and he rolled off of your body and onto the bed. Pulling yourself up, you straddled him again, though perhaps not so fast since you were still hazy from your orgasm. His hands guided you back down to where his cock was waiting for you.

Miguel rested his head on your good shoulder as you lowered yourself slowly back down on him. His hot breath fanned against your skin as he groaned at the feeling of your wet pussy around him. You let out a strangled gasp, feeling yourself stretch out again for him. You moved slowly, still halfway stuck in the stupor his mouth had left you in, and everything was still so sensitive for you.

Gradually, you began moving again. Miguel's arms wrapped tightly around you, pressing his body up against yours. His skin felt like fire—burning, consuming, enthralling. You rested your head against his as his strong arms helped lift you up and down his length.

"You feel so fucking good," he grunted quietly against your cheek. "You don't understand...what you do to me." Your nails dug into the skin of his shoulder as he spoke. The movement of his cock inside you made it difficult for you to formulate a response, but you managed to choke out, "Tell me. Tell me what I do to you."

He groaned softly. "You drive me fucking crazy," he muttered. "I can never focus when you're with me—," he groaned again, "—but I can never stop thinking about you when you're not." His arms were moving you up and down faster as he spoke, and you could tell he was fucking out his frustration. "The way you smell," he continued breathlessly, "the way you feel, the way you look when you're cumming all over my cock."

You gasped sharply, the combination of his words and his increasingly desperate pace rendering you speechless. "I want to have you every second...of every day," he murmured in your ear. You were panting hard against his skin while his cock continued driving deep into your aching cunt.

"Then have me," you whispered so quietly that he wouldn't have heard it over the lewd sounds of your fucking if it hadn't been said directly in his ear. "Have me every day."

He groaned, and turning his face, he captured your lips in a kiss. The taste of your pussy still lingered on his mouth, and you moaned softly against his lips. Everything felt so good, and when you broke away from your kiss, you looked deep into Miguel’s eyes and whispered, “I’m yours.”

And just like that, Miguel's body tensed, and with a long moan against your skin, he came inside you. You stilled as he held you tightly against his body. Beside the sound of your heart beating furiously in your ears, there was only your heavy breathing to fill the silence between you.

You could've stayed like that forever, feeling his strong arms wrapped around your body, hearing his breath against your ear. Your body still buzzed with pleasure, and there was nothing in your mind except that cursed phrase you fought so hard to ignore, the one that whispered to you constantly in the back of your brain every time you looked at Miguel.

I love you.

Over and over, it echoed in your mind, begging to be spoken. You'd heard it nagging in your heart for a while now, and you had tried your best to ignore it. Even after weeks of next to no contact, your feelings hadn't wavered for him.

Now, as you sat there wrapped in each other's arms, you felt those words ringing louder than ever, and for one dreadful moment, you thought you might say it out loud.

No—no, you couldn't. A bolt of fear yanked the words off your tongue. You couldn't jeopardize this. It was too precious to you. Even if this was all you could have, the occasional fuck, sleeping together knowing that he would always have to leave for something more important than yourself—wasn't it better than nothing? Wasn't it better than before when you were all alone? Especially now that he admitted to feeling something real for you, you couldn't ruin it with those three words.

Miguel finally moved when he turned his head toward yours. Your noses brushed against each other for moment as you both gasped for breath before your lips pressed down on his. You moaned against him softly. Still holding your body to his, he leaned back against the bed, bringing you down with him so that you lay on his chest.

After your breathing began leveling out, you shifted, allowing his cock to pull out of you with a groan. You slid off his chest onto your good shoulder with your body still pressed against his. You lay there like that for a while in comfortable silence, enjoying the feeling of each other's warm skin.

"It's been too long," Miguel sighed, finally breaking the silence. You smiled. "And whose fault is that?" You asked as you looked up at him. A small smile formed on his lips. "You were the one who swore you'd catch Ghost," he pointed out. "Is it my fault for believing you?"

You scoffed. "It's your fault for making that stupid rule in the first place," you argued. There was a quiet chuckle that rumbled in his chest. "It's called compromise, sweetheart," he said smoothly. "I can't let you have everything you want."

You tried to keep a straight face, but his snark caused your lips to quirk upward. "And why not?" You demanded to know, propping yourself up onto your elbow to look deep in his eyes.

Miguel looked at you with a subtle smile still adorning his face. "Because then everyone is going to complain about how I favor you over everyone else," he replied evenly. "And then, one by one, they'll all leave until it's just you and me."

You hummed thoughtfully. "That doesn't sound so bad," you said, settling back down next to him. "Just you and me against the multiverse."

He hummed as well. "Just you and me," he repeated, and in his voice, you could hear him imagining it, the two of you together across every universe.

You had imagined it before, too. You and Miguel, together, always, through everything. It was such a sweet dream, and yet the truth was the bitter chaser that always followed your longing—different dimensions, different lives. What future could you have together?

If Miguel was thinking the same thing, he didn't say it. He seemed content to just lay with you in silence while his fingers gently caressed your arm.

After a moment, you sighed. You could feel Miguel's head turn to look down at you in curiosity.

"You know, I meant what I said before," you told him softly.

"Hmm?"

"About being more than just a fling you can ignore outside of the bedroom," you explained.

"Ah."

You felt his head turn back up to stare at the ceiling, but his fingers still brushed against your skin. "I mean, is that what you still want?" You asked, lifting your gaze to look at his face. "Be honest."

There was a beat of silence before he quietly answered, "No."

You waited, hoping he would say more. He sounded almost reluctant in his reply, so you could tell there was more to it.

It was Miguel's turn to sigh. "I don't—I don't want this to be casual either," he began slowly. "I want it to be real, but I can't give up my work here. I won't. And one day, you'll hate me for not putting you first."

You scoffed lightly at those last words. "I could never hate you," you told him. There was a slight pause before he muttered, "Don't be so sure."

It could've been a joke, but the way he said it was so serious, it made you pause, and looking up at his face, you found there wasn't any traces of humor. You pushed yourself up a bit to face him better. His eyes moved back to you, and you held his stare for a moment.

"I could never hate you," you repeated in a soft, earnest whisper. Miguel didn't respond, he only watched you carefully before a tiny, sad smile pulled at his lips, looking as though he wanted to believe you.

"Careful," he murmured. "Don't make promises you can't keep."

You smirked at him and leaned in close. "I'll try my best not to," you said before closing the gap between your lips. He kissed you gently before pulling away to say, "And I'll try—about what you want, I'll try."

Your heart leapt, and there wasn't anything you could do to contain your smile. "Thank you," you whispered before kissing him again. You could feel him grinning against your lips, and his arms pulled you close. When you broke apart, you settled back down next to him.

"If they all start complaining though, I'm blaming you," he said. You chuckled. "Fair is fair," you replied. "If they don't like it, they can leave." He huffed in amusement. "Until it's just you and me?" He asked.

"Until it's just you and me."

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