#which is eight shows over six nights. they get one night off.

[greensagephase]

Nonviolent Communication - Part Two

***Fanart done by the lovely @sunsetdoodler for the end scene of this part can be found here !! Thank you so much @sunsetdoodler for drawing this!! I'm in love with the way you drew this scene and I'm still not over how tiny the coffee cup looks in his hand 🥹 so CUTE!!! Please go and show some love to this amazing artist and their work!!***

Miguel O'Hara x FemReader

Summary: You show up to HQ after a day off due to your period (Part One). You accidently intrude on your boss's personal moment.

Word Count: 6,468

Warning: Sad Miguel Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine |

Part Two

The next day you wake up bright and early. You're definitely feeling a million times better. You sit up in bed and untuck your sweatshirt. Miguel's handmade rice socks slide out. You didn’t need them last night, but you still felt like using them to prevent or ease any cramps or pain during the night. You quickly get ready for the day, changing into clothes to go out and fixing your hair. You make breakfast and for some reason you check the cabinets and drawer from last night again. They're still fixed. The containers that Miguel left are in your fridge. 

You feel silly as you check this. It really did feel like a dream having Miguel O'Hara, your boss, visit your apartment and then to find out he had lied about the reason for his visit.

You reheat the canelita from last night as you eat breakfast and think. The realization that he had lied kept you up for a little while last night. You don't understand why he would lie about it. 

But then you also wonder what it meant. It wasn't like you thought he was heartless. Or some stone-cold man. He could act like he was sometimes, but you feel that he is not like that. You remember hearing the events that unfolded before your enrollment into the Spider Society. An altercation with Miles Morales, who is now one of your closest colleagues, trying to prevent his father from dying. Miguel launched a multiverse hunt for Miles, trying to prevent him from breaking the canon, which had resulted in several spider-members breaking off the Spider Society to side with Miles. In the end, Miguel had discovered that he was wrong. Miles’s father didn’t need to die to keep the multiverse balanced. After discovering he was wrong, he apologized and even helped Miles save his dad, according to Miles himself. So, Miguel O’Hara was not heartless, or completely uncaring.

He was, however, still filled with guilt and pain from losing his family. You couldn't help but wonder if he would ever be able to heal and move on.

He did care, you think. He was just too scared of showing it. Maybe he feared letting people know he cared or had the potential to still care. You sigh as you drink the warm canelita. Maybe that’s why he had lied. Perhaps he had been somewhat concerned for you and had decided to check your wellness. Then, seeing you in pain, he felt the responsibility to help. That was it. Whatever the reason, you know he didn’t want you to know. This was clear to you as he had made sure to tell you not to mention it to Jessica twice to prevent getting caught in a lie.

You finish breakfast and wash dishes before heading out. You stop as you're nearly out the door, turning to look at a picture of Peter. You bring your fingertips to your lips, planting a soft kiss before pressing them to Peter's lips on the picture. 

You smile at the photo. "This city depends on me," you say, remembering this was one of the things he had last told you. You head out then, fulfilling your daily promise to Peter of ensuring the safety of this city. You swing through the city, easily, looking out for crime or anyone in need of help. You watch the sky, the sun climbing higher and higher. The city never rests but you see it's still calm and early before the sidewalks are overfilled with busy citizens living their lives. You end up sitting on a tall building, just watching and patrolling. Your senses are met as you sit there. You hear chatter already. There are some honks here and there from cars below on the streets. Music plays from somewhere nearby. You feel a light breeze in the air, messing with your hair. There’s a bakery down below, and despite the height, the scent of fresh baked bread fills the air.

Your eyes end up on a couple. You can't help but watch as they walk hand in hand. Not a care in the world. They both look like they're going to work as they talk and laugh to themselves. Your gaze follows them until they reach an intersection where they part ways but not before they kiss on the lips. It looks like a longing kiss, as if they're already missing each other despite their bodies being pressed against each other’s.

A soft sight escapes your lips. That used to be Peter and you, you realized. It was that kind of love. The kind in which you'd start missing your person even before you said goodbye. The kind that had you already longing to kiss their lips again while you were kissing them. 

You longed to have that back. You missed having that. To still feel that. Even though it has been three years since Peter's death, you haven't thought about a new relationship. Sure, you have been asked out in the last year or so, but you didn't feel ready yet. You felt as though it was too soon. For some reason though, in this moment, watching the couple, you feel as though you are ready to be open to the possibility of a relationship again. You know it might never be the same as with Peter. Peter was the first everything. He's always going to be special and different to you no matter what but... 

That doesn't mean love can't come again, right? And you had promised Peter, too. That you would be open to it. As you look at the city before you, you realize you're okay with at least being open to a relationship now. It's not going to be immediate of course, as it's going to take a while to find someone you can trust the same way you trusted Peter. 

You sigh and get up, cleaning your pants. It seems that everything is good with your city. At least for now. You give one last glance at the lovers, now walking in different directions.

You walk away from the edge of the building and open a multidimensional portal, ready to report to HQ. Since you missed out on yesterday's meeting, you have no idea if you have special missions today or for the rest of the week. The sooner you show up to HQ, the sooner you'll know what you have been assigned and plus, you needed to go and organize the lab since you also skipped that. You enter through the portal, stepping out into the cafeteria which buzzes with energy of about seventy or so spider members. You nod to a few who you've worked with in the past as you walk by. The scent of coffee fills the air, making you crave it since you didn't have any earlier. You grab a cup then decide to grab another one for Miguel as you're heading there to collect the report from yesterday. You make your way to his lab, making it sooner than expected. You call for Lyla, who always appears. Except she doesn't appear right now. You frown. 

"Lyla?" you say hoping she'll pop out of nowhere like she usually does. You always call her before you go into Miguel's lab. You always do this to avoid entering unannounced, but Lyla doesn't appear with her bubbly and sassy personality.  

You debate going into the lab. On one hand, you need to figure out if you have a mission. What if there's something planned that you were assigned, and you miss it? You really don’t want to make any mission partners angry at you skipping accidentally. On the other hand, you don't want to just go into the lab unannounced even though you know other members do that sometimes.

You frown and debate internally, finally making up your mind. You push open one of the labs doors, careful not to spill any coffee on yourself, deciding that knowing if you have missions is more important. Once you enter, the door closes behind you softly. The lab is dark and quiet. You can spot the yellow lights from the monitors faintly. You begin to question if Miguel is even here. He might be out on a mission right now. You continue to walk further in just as you receive a message from Jessica through your gizmo. You put the cups of coffee down on a nearby surface, already too deep in the lab. You pull open the message, noticing that it was sent to all Spider Society members.

"Whatever you do, do NOT, and I mean do NOT, go into Miguel's lab today. Don't speak to him. Don't approach him. Avoid him at all costs. He's not to be approached today. Any questions you have, direct them to me." 

You curse under your breath. Why didn't Jessica send this sooner, you ask yourself as you look up. At least it seems that he's not here, you think as you look around only to realize you're very wrong. 

You feel shivers run down your body as you see him. He's hunched over his monitors on his platform. You hadn't seen him because the light was off. You stand still, heart racing suddenly. 

Shit, you think to yourself. Why did Jessica send the message two minutes too late? You begin walking backwards quietly, forgetting the cups of coffee. You'll retrieve them tomorrow if all goes well. You watch Miguel carefully, making sure he stays the same, making sure he doesn’t detect you. You make it a good bit before he moves. His movement is so subtle you pause walking, making you freeze in place.

Shit, shit, shit, you think. He's looking over his shoulder now, probably scanning the area. 

"Who's there?" Miguel asks, in a voice so much different from the one he used last night. This voice is raspy, laced with anger and something else. It's almost threatening. "Do not make me ask again," he says with a coldness that could put winter to shame when silence meets him. 

You hear your heart race in your ears. It's beating and beating. This is the scary Miguel people talk about, you realize. You hear him breathing. He sounds irritated. You decide to speak at last to avoid angering him any further. 

"It's me, Y/N. I'm sorry for coming in... I see you're busy, so I'll head out now," you say, before you begin speed walking towards the doors. Before you know it, however, you see Miguel's bright illuminating webs shoot past you and onto the doors, blocking them. You halt as you see this. You turn around slowly to face his direction, unknowing what’s going to happen next. Is he going to scream at you for interrupting him? Is he going to take out his emotions on you?

You watch carefully as he stands on the platform, facing you now. He looks menacing standing there on his platform with the lights off, the only visible lights being the yellow monitor lights which are faint to begin with. He stands still, watching in your direction, silent. You swallow hard before you take a step forward.

You can’t help but ask yourself what you’re doing. You should stay still; you should try and leave but no. Here you are, taking more steps towards him, approaching him as if he were a delicate glass figure who could break at any sudden and abrupt movement. All the while, Miguel stands there, like a statue. You can feel his gaze on you now. He has the kind of gaze that anyone could feel. Or maybe it was just you who felt his heavy gaze. You take step after step, until you are standing before him. He still stands there, towering over you, perfectly still. You release a slow breath as you meet his eyes. There’s anger, sadness, and grief in them. You tell yourself you should leave at that moment. Who are you anyway? You are just another member of the Spider Society. You are not one of his most trusted members. You are just you.

You are you, the one he checked on last night. You are the member he left his lab and million of duties he assigns himself for to travel to your universe to check on you. He helped you last night. He made you homemade rice socks to ease your pain. He made food for you, which happened to be one of your comfort foods. He made you canelita, to ease your cramps. He fixed your cabinets and took out the trash and dealt with the dishes. He watched you become overwhelmed with your emotions as you remembered Peter.

Even though Miguel O’Hara didn’t want you to know, he had shown up of his own accord and not because another member had asked him to. Jessica had not asked him to check on you.

He made the decision all on his own. You didn’t know why exactly but you were thankful, nonetheless. And that was all that mattered to you suddenly. You were grateful he had shown you kindness.

Still meeting his eyes as you think about this, you speak up again, knowing that the only thing you wish to do right now, is reciprocate that kindness. He can reject it. He can tell you to go away. He can laugh or mock you. You could care less right now. You just want to reciprocate the kind gesture from last night and that’s why you ask, looking into his maroon eyes, “Is there anything – anything I can do for you right now?”

Miguel’s eyes narrow down at you. There’s an emotion in them. Perhaps, surprise? Is he surprised by the question? Has anyone ever asked Miguel if they can do anything for him? Would he even let them if they asked?

Your arms hang at your sides as you continue to hold his gaze. “I could simply listen,” you say quietly, trying to tell him that he could just talk about whatever it is that’s bothering him. You’ll listen… If he lets you.

A few minutes go by – or maybe it just feels that long as the two of you stand in front of each other, holding each other’s gaze, in silence in his dark lab. You almost feel like he could do this all day. Just stand there, watching you with his maroon eyes narrowed at you. You wonder what he’s thinking. Or maybe he’s not even thinking. Maybe he’s so wrapped up in his emotions, he has forgotten you are there. Maybe you have become part of his lab, just another object laying around.

You begin to feel as though this will continue forever. You will be stuck in this moment with him until he snaps out of it. You find yourself thinking that you’d wait it out with him, to return the gesture of last night. You will stand here the rest of the day until he-

“Lyla,” Miguel says, finally breaking the silence. His voice is hoarse.

You feel stunned for a few seconds. You thought he’d only continue to stand there in silence for longer. You recover quickly though and nod slowly, hoping that this encourages him to talk more. You also wonder for a second if he’s requesting Lyla to show up, but she doesn’t appear. You find this strange. She’s not showing up even for him.

Miguel turns around, turning away from you to face the monitors. You stand still, in the same spot. You feel as though you should remain still, to avoid upsetting or alarming him. You notice that he begins to move his monitors around, though you cannot see what’s in them as his body covers your view. You wait for anything else. He sighs as he stops moving his monitors.

“Last night,” Miguel begins, “I returned from your apartment. I ran maintenance on Lyla before I left, and when I returned, I found a folder that she kept hidden from me.”

You listen intently, your brows furrowing as you hear the last bit. Lyla hid a folder from him? You can’t help but wonder what it contained but you know immediately whatever it was, is the root of his mood today. You watch Miguel’s head drop. The sight of this on a man like him, who always looks put together, stern, and unbreakable, is devastating. You feel the need to reach out to him. To lay your hand on his arm as a sign of support but you know very well that would be too much for the founder and leader of the Spider Society. You can’t help but think about something Jessica once said after you and other members had returned from a mission. The mission had been particularly hard, as you had all dealt with a vexing anomaly. However, it had been a success in the end, with the anomaly captured and returned to its original universe. One of the other members on the mission had joked about Miguel congratulating all of you with a hug, to which Jessica had responded in a very serious and somber manner that had snatched your teammate’s humor instantly after.

“Miguel cannot do physical touch in that way, right now. Perhaps he never will.”

You remember thinking how sad that sounded. That someone couldn’t do physical touch in that way. Of course, you understood why it would be hard for him. You had heard he had lost his daughter in his arms. Your fingers twitch, wishing you could comfort him but there’s a line. A line you’re unwilling to cross when you know Miguel has firmly drawn it. Your hands curl into fists, trying to end the need to comfort him. Listening will have to do, you think.

“The folder contains photos and videos of my… previous life. Of my daughter and wife,” Miguel says, sounding pained and heartbroken.

You share his sadness as you realize. Lyla had hidden it. Lyla, who is nowhere to be found… You piece the pieces together and conclude that the bubbly, cute, and sassy AI assistant has been deactivated or shut off for the time being as a result of Miguel’s emotions.

You don’t know what to say. What can you say? How do you respond to this unique scenario in which your AI assistant hides a folder containing contents from your previous life before disaster struck? As you stare into Miguel’s back, you think about Lyla.

Lyla, who is always sassy and bubbly. Lyla, who follows Miguel’s every command.

Lyla, who is the only one that accompanies the founder and leader of the Spider Society when he’s locked up in his lab. Lyla, who despite being AI, is the only one that knows in full disclosure about the life Miguel led.

The one who saw a happy Miguel. A Miguel with a wife and daughter. A Miguel that probably smiled and laughed often. A version of him that didn’t stare into monitors with a grief-stricken face. You cannot help but wonder in that moment, staring at his large back… What was it like to hear Miguel O’Hara’s laugh? You guessed it was deep and rich, the kind that probably made you want to make the man laugh more to keep hearing it. You wondered what his smile looked like, too.

You shake your head, trying to clear your thoughts. It was not the moment. You focus again. Lyla, the AI assistant that probably knew Miguel better than any other Spider Society member, had hidden a folder containing photos and videos of his previous life. Of his wife and daughter. And you know why. Or at least you are certain you know why. That little sassy and bubbly AI assistant cares for Miguel. You cannot help but pinpoint this as her reasoning for hiding it. She knows him and what he has been through. She knew it’d break him further to see more memories of his previous life.

Still standing behind him, unmoving, you gently respond, “I’m sorry…”

Miguel’s head is still hanging when he speaks again. “She hid it from me all these years. Do you know how many files I had before this?” he asks, his voice hoarse, still laced with anger and sadness. He responds before you can. “I had three!” he says, louder. “Two videos and one photograph! And she’s had this file containing over a dozen photos and videos of them. How dare she! How dare she hide this from me? How could she hide them from me… My family,” Miguel says with a much more desperate and mournful tone that almost makes you want to weep for him.

You notice his hand, laying against a monitor softly. He shifts his body some, allowing you, accidentally, to see the monitor. You feel overwhelmed with sadness as your eyes scan the photograph. There, in the monitor is Miguel standing in the back with his arms wrapped around a woman while the other one holds a girl. Your eyes move across the woman, Miguel’s wife. You had heard from other spider members that he had met her shortly after inserting himself into the child’s life. They had quickly fallen in love and had married in a short amount of time. She was beautiful with mid-length hair, bright eyes, and a warm smile. You move to the child. Her small face was precious with her toothy smile and scrunched nose as she looked at the camera. Her hair was in a ponytail, and she wore a soccer uniform. You cannot explain the feeling that overwhelms your heart as you see this beautiful girl. Finally, your eyes land on him.

Miguel O’Hara looks at the camera with happy eyes and a smile that leaves you a little breathless. The sight is strange and yet comforting in some way. His eyes are bright. He looks happy. More than happy, really. This was another Miguel. One that you had never met. One that you may never meet. You don’t fail to notice that he’s in casual clothes in the photograph, further indicating how different this version of him to the one in skin and bones before you are. Miguel never smiles or laughs. He is never seen in comforting and relaxing clothing. His eyes are never full and bright. There is no twinkle in his eyes like there is in the photograph. No, the eyes of the man in front of you are vacant of this twinkle. No sign of happiness.

An involuntary, deep sigh escapes from you. You freeze almost immediately. Miguel turns to you with an unreadable look on his face. You meet his eyes briefly before you  return your attention to the monitor.

“She was beautiful… They both were,” you whisper as your eyes land on the little girl again.

You wonder what she was like. Her soccer uniform gives you a glimpse of her. You imagine she was dedicated to it. She probably was good at scoring goals. You imagine her scoring one and running to the sidelines, where Miguel probably stood, watching, and cheering with his wife. You imagine them, going out to get ice cream afterwards to celebrate. You imagine Miguel giving her a ride on his back as she squeals, his wife laughing and finding the scene wholesome.

You cannot explain it. You feel as though you are grieving for him, the life he used to have. You grieve his happiness.

He was so happy. He had everything. A wife and a daughter. A family. And they were gone. Just like that.

As you stare at the photograph, your emotions swirling, you fail to notice Miguel watching you. He notices the way your posture has changed. You usually walk around with a posture that many envy. Your head is always high. Your face is usually bright and warm. And yet, when he looks at you now, he sees the way your arms hang at your sides almost in a helpless way. He notices your hands, curled in fists and wonders the reason for it. He observes your slumped shoulders, as if you were sharing the burden of his emotions in that moment.

Despite his emotions being a wreck right now, he finds the moment to feel off by this sight. He is used to seeing you happy and with a warm smile. He wondered a few times how someone could always carry themselves this way despite losing someone. He knew of your loss, of course. He didn’t know the exact details, but he knew it had been painful and his suspicions had been further confirmed last night when he had asked why you stuck around to your shitty apartment. He had seen the way you had focused on the wall with photographs. He had guessed you were looking at a photo of you and your Peter. He was never going to admit it out loud, but he had explored your apartment while you slept, and that wall had caught his attention.

His eyes had observed your face. There was not one in which you weren’t smiling. It didn’t matter if you were looking at the camera or not, there was a smile on your face. He couldn’t help but notice the way you smiled at Peter, too, in the photos that you were not facing the camera. It seemed to Miguel that Peter was your everything and you had proven his thought right when he saw your eyes focus on a specific photo on this wall. When your eyes filled with tears that threatened to spill down your face. When he saw the familiar emotions he carried with him every day.

Grief. Sadness. Heartbreak. Longing.  

Miguel swallows the lump in his throat as his eyes are still on you. He watches the way you scan the photo. There is no judgement from you. There is no question about how it happened. You just watch and you seem to feel his pain. He finally turns to the screen, shifting over, giving you a better view of the monitor displaying the photo. His movement is subtle, and it could easily be mistaken as an accident, but it was anything but that. Miguel O’Hara, for once, was okay with someone looking at a photo of his previous life. He felt that he could trust you, even though you were one of the newest members in his society. He felt something inside him when he heard you call his wife and daughter beautiful. His face had a longing look on it but a small, almost barely there, smile appeared on his face as his eyes scanned the photo again.

“They were…,” he said softly. “My daughter – her name was Gabriella.”

Your eyes shift to Miguel again. You can see a ghost of a smile on his face. It pains you to see this. He deserves to be happy, you think.

“That’s a beautiful name… Gabriella,” you say softly, and you don’t fail to see the way his eyes close when you say his child’s name. It’s almost as if it’s too much to hear it out loud but Miguel opens his eyes again.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve heard someone else say her name,” Miguel says quietly, barely audible but you hear it, and this breaks your heart. You watch him swallow. “She was bright, so bright. She did well in school. She loved science,” Miguel says before he brings his hand to his face. You watch as he wipes his eyes with the back of his hand. Tears, you realize. He’s wiping tears off his eyes as he talks about Gabriella. And – suddenly, Miguel is talking about his daughter. Spilling everything that comes to his mind about her.

He tells you about the science projects Gabriella did and how she earned A’s. He tells you about her in the soccer team, how she put so much determination into her practices. How she dedicated her goals to him. About the way she had nightmares sometimes and how she called for him, him being the only one that could truly comfort her and lure her back to sleep. He talks about making her breakfast and how much she loved Saturday breakfasts especially because he made pancakes with chocolate chip cookies on them.

Miguel goes on and on, giving you more glimpses into his life and hell – you grieve that life for him. You grieve the death of a child you never knew. Your urge to comfort him grows with each detail he gives you. Your curled fists unclench and clench over and over. It’s so hard to hold back, to not wrap your arms around this man who is stuck in the past, grieving a life he no longer has… but you know you shouldn’t. You know you can’t as you remember Jessica’s comment about Miguel being unable to do physical touch. Instead, you do what you can do.

“She sounds like a wonderful child, Miguel,” you whisper still looking at the image, and you mean it. Little Gabriella sounds like a beam of sunlight. She sounds like the kind of child that could turn your frown into a smile. You smile faintly at her toothy smile. You wonder what kind of life she would’ve led but you stop yourself, feeling like you have no right to wonder that. “I have never said it before because I know…” you trail off not wanting to say what you wanted to say, which was that you knew this was a topic that couldn’t be brought up. Other members had warned you about bringing it up, so you never did. “… but I’m so sorry for your loss,” you whisper and hope your tone expresses your condolences.

Miguel remains silent. He continues to look at the screen and it appears his tears have slowed down at least. “Thank you,” he says, his voice sounding less hoarse and calmer, but it’s still laced with sadness.

You remember Lyla then and you can’t help but feel bad for the little AI assistant. You wonder if you will push it too far by bringing her up.

“I know I’m no one,” you start, turning your face to him even though he cannot see it. “To say anything and I know it’s upsetting, rightfully so…” you say, understanding why Miguel was so angry.

Miguel turns slightly towards you, as if interested in what you have to say. You let out a soft sigh. “Lyla – you know she cares about you, right?” you ask, softly.

Miguel turns his head away again and doesn’t respond for a few seconds until finally he nods. He sighs and brings a hand to his left temple. He massages it for a few seconds, perhaps a sign of a headache, you wonder.

“I know,” he answers quietly. “I know she did it to avoid – “ he says but doesn’t finish. You nod understanding.

“She’s always around to help you,” you say, a little smile forming on your face as you think about her. “She’s always so sassy but she always does her job.”

Miguel scoffs, nodding. “Her sassiness wasn’t planned. She took that trait all on her own,” he says but you don’t believe it. Lyla had once told you how sassy Miguel himself was before the events that changed his life forever took place. You guess his own sassiness was inspiration for hers. You smile as you think of that side of him, probably buried deep in him. You don’t mention this though and just nod. Maybe one day, you can see that side of him. Maybe.

“I haven’t seen her in a few days since I was out, but I miss her questions,” you say, referring to how she showers you with questions every time you clean the lab.

Miguel stays still and replies a few seconds later. “I deactivated her after I found out what she did.”

Your suspicion is proved correct then. You don’t say anything else. It’s not like you can ask him to bring her back. At the end of the day, Lyla is his creation. The two of you remain silent for a few minutes in his dark lab. Miguel finally sighs and straightens up, his true height towering over you.

“I’ll activate her again,” Miguel says, and his voice is in its usual tone now. The same one from yesterday while he talked to you in the kitchen. You feel relief wash over you. If you felt so attached to her without being her creator, you wonder how attached Miguel might be to her. Miguel then turns around, fully facing you. You look up at him. He is a different man than the one you first encountered earlier. He lifts his wrist closer to his face and begins clicking his gizmo. Not even ten seconds later, Lyla appears again.

She floats next to his head and looks around, seemingly confused. Her eyes land on you before they turn to Miguel.

“Miguel – you know I didn’t mean to,” she says and for once, her tone is not sassy or bubbly. She sounds truly sorry. Miguel stares at her, with eyes that reveal his attachment to her.

“It’s alright, Lyla. I know,” Miguel mutters and Lyla floats over to hug his head, happy to be back and forgiven it seems.

You try hiding your chuckle but fail miserably, catching both of their attention. You straighten up, noticing their gaze on you now. Lyla disappears and appears just as quickly as she disappeared, suddenly in front of your face.

She makes it a point to look like she’s whispering to you. “I guess I have you to thank, right?” she asks, winking at you behind her heart-shaped glasses. You chuckle softly.

“It’s good to have you back, Lyla.”

Lyla grins and offers you a fist bump. “This is why you’re one of my favorite spider members,” she says, earning a scowl from Miguel.

“I thought you said you didn’t have favorites, Lyla.”

Lyla shrugs at Miguel once she faces him after you return the fist bump. “It would hurt your feelings if you knew you’re not in my top five. Sorry, Miguel,” she says, still hovering over you. This earns Lyla another scowl.

“And I created you,” Miguel says in disbelief, but you can tell there’s a little bit of a playfulness in his tone.

“Y/N is in my top five.”

You raise an eyebrow. “I am? I literally joined the society like – four months ago.”

Lyla shrugs, floating back to Miguel. “That doesn’t matter, Y/N. I will not elaborate why you’re one of my favorites,” she says with a little smirk before looking at Miguel and then back at you. You can’t help but feel like her look at Miguel was to make some point as to why you’re one of her favorites, but you chalk it up to overthinking.

“Well, consider me flattered,” you reply with a grin, which Lyla returns before she looks around.

“So – you guys have been hanging out in the dark like some weirdos? Let’s light up this place,” Lyla says, and the lab is suddenly lit up.

The sudden light makes Miguel and you close your eyes in discomfort. You blink a few times, trying to get used to the change.

“Lyla, did you really have to do it that suddenly? A warning would’ve been appreciated you know?” Miguel asks, giving Lyla an annoyed look.

“Sorry, I just couldn’t stand the darkness in here.”

You chuckle quietly, still trying to adjust to the sudden bright lights. With your eyes finally adjusted, you look up at Miguel and Lyla. Lyla is grinning as she sits in the air with one of her legs crossed over the other. Miguel scoffs at her before he turns his attention to you. His face is calm and relaxed.

“I’m – sorry for the way I snapped earlier when you arrived,” Miguel starts with sincerity. “Did you need something?”

“Please don’t apologize, there’s no need to,” you say with a small smile. The last thing you wanted was for him to apologize when you intruded. Yet, you feel something in your chest you cannot describe at the fact that he has apologized. “I came to collect the report from yesterday’s meeting. I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t skipping missions.”

Miguel nods and steps off his platform, brushing past you. He walks over to another surface and picks up what you assume is the report. He walks back to you and extends his arm, handing you the report. You take it and thank him. You quickly flip through it, your eyes scanning the pages to see if you have a mission today. You see you don’t have anything until tomorrow.

You look up at Miguel. He seems to be looking elsewhere though there’s an expression on his face you cannot decipher.

“Well, that was all. Thank you and – I’m sorry for intruding,” you add with embarrassment.

Miguel turns to you and shakes his head softly. “Don’t worry about it…”

You smile briefly before you begin taking steps back. “Okay, well. I should head out… I’ll see you around,” you say before you turn around and begin walking towards the door. You suddenly remember the organizing. You stop walking but don’t turn. “Oh, I’ll come tomorrow after my mission to organize the lab, if you don’t mind.”

“Alright. See you tomorrow.”

“Bye, Y/N!” Lyla calls out.

“Bye, Lyla!” you say before exiting the lab, report in hand.

The door closes after you, leaving Miguel and his sassy AI assistant alone in a well-lit lab now. Miguel turns to his monitors. He stares at the picture for a few seconds. There’s a faint smile on his face before he closes the tab and folder. Lyla remains silent as if sensing that Miguel needs this moment. Miguel sighs, looking around the lab. Sensing that she can talk now, Lyla breaks the silence, noticing something.

“Why do you have two random coffee cups abandoned over there? I swear some of the members are so unorganized and forgetful sometimes,” Lyla complains, floating away.

Miguel looks around, a slight frown on his face as he searches the lab with his eyes before he spots them. Two cups of coffee are placed on one of the many surfaces of the lab. He stares at them, knowing instantly who brought them. He walks over to the surface and grabs one, lifting it to his face. It’s still warm in his hand and the scent of coffee fills his nostrils. He takes a sip, deep in thought for a few seconds.

“So, care to elaborate why Y/N is one of your top five spider members?” Miguel asks Lyla, curiously.

“I don’t think I will.”

--------------------------------

taglist:

@loverlorn @saturnknows @d1lf-loverrr @eddiestitmiguelsbigdick @freehentai @arithestrawberry @scaleniusrm @haradasaya @spidermanismyfav @bitchykittenconnoisseur @thecraziestcrayon @mandodinstuff

Thank you for the support so far, it's really appreciated 🥰! Part three will be up in a few days. I don't know how long this will be but I think there might be five in total? We'll see! Also, excuse any spelling or grammar errors. I edited it but I read it for so long my eyes probably still missed something.

I still love Miguel O'Hara. That's all.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara imagine #atsv miguel #miguel o hara #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara scenarios #spiderman 2099 #atsv x reader #atsv x you #miguel spiderman #across the spiderver fanfiction #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara x you #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x y/n

[mousy-nona]

Because I'm a sucker for seeing Vox lose it over RadioApple, and also them dancing, maybe a thing where RadioAaple both a little tipsy, dance in Lucifer's room late at night. Vox sees them on his drone and freaks because 1) Alastor is letting himself be unguarded with a person 2) Alastor is dancing and 3) Alastor has, in fact, made nice with the King like Vox was afraid of. Very nice by the looks of it.

“Do you ever think you may have a problem?”

That was Velvette, who was using her best “let’s not piss off the crazy man” voice. 

“No.”

“Not even a little one?”

“No.”

Valentino and Velvette exchanged telling looks, which Vox promptly ignored. He had more important things to worry about, like keeping this stupid drone in the air. Maneuvering the machine itself was easy, but getting around the electromagnetic force field Alastor had set up around the hotel’s perimeter was a whole lot trickier. Vox had been flying in circles for hours, trying to find a weak spot in Alastor’s defenses. 

(He knew it’d been hours because Velvette had started shooting worried glances at him around hour two, Valentino had showed up around hour five, and they’d started a game of rock-paper-scissors to figure out who was going to do a wellness check on him around hour six.)

“Ah-ha!” Vox screamed, jabbing both fists in the air when the force field flexed and glitched, creating a half second window of opportunity. He urged the drone forward, barely zipping past before the shield re-formed. “Boo-yah! Who’s your daddy?” 

Valentino smirked and took in a long drag of his pipe. “Vox, baby, not outside the bedroom.” 

Vox’s metal heart – the same one he always denied having – started beating faster as the camera zoomed closer and closer to the hotel. He zipped to Alastor’s radio tower first, then his room, frowning slightly when all he found was a half-eaten deer, a cooling cup of coffee, and a discarded coat.

From behind him, Velvette clapped her hands with an annoyed huff of relief. “Oh, well, looks like the asshole is out. Too bad, so sad. Can we please get back to something actually fucking important?” 

But Vox shook his head. “That doesn’t make sense. It’s 11 o’clock. Alastor usually finishes his business before seven so he can have dinner at eight, or else he gets too hungry to do–” He trailed off when he saw the look on both their faces. They were both staring at him as if he was a terminal patient, come down with an incurable case of Alastor-itis. 

He sighed and re-focused on the screen. “It just doesn’t make sense, okay?”

The library. The lobby. The kitchen. Alastor was nowhere to be found.

Then Vox had a horrible thought. He remembered the rumors flying around town, the wild laughs of excitement and the curses emanating from the hotel recently. He remembered Alastor’s most recent broadcast (“Folks, when living with an annoying roommate, always remember to assert your dominance wherever possible”). And most of all, he remembered Alastor’s smug face as he strolled down the street, humming merrily to himself as he twirled an unfamiliar white top hat on his staff. 

He remembered the strange apple that had appeared on the top right of the hotel, just down the hall from Alastor. 

His heart in his throat, he slowly moved the drone higher, then higher still. Don’t be there, don’t be there, don’t be there –

Velvette and Vox went quiet at the scene that appeared on the screen. Alastor was there all right, but he wasn’t alone. As if he’d suddenly downloaded a virus, Vox could only process what he was seeing in chunks.

He saw the record player first, oddly enough. An old-timey song was playing, static crackling and popping as a low sweet croon, somehow both deep and high, filled the room. 25%.

The room was dark, but a few candles and duck-shaped lamps were gleamed with a heavenly light, washing the pair slowly revolving in the center of the room in a seductive golden glow. 50%. 

The king of hell was there. The expression on his face was…tender. His head was tucked into Alastor’s narrow chest, one hand on Alastor’s shoulder and the other clasped in Alastor’s hand. His eyes were sparkling, almost overfilled with a nameless emotion that Vox knew all too well. Alastor’s hand was curled around his waist protectively (possessively). 75%. 

And finally, Vox saw Alastor. Really saw him, as if for the first time, because this wasn’t his Alastor. His Alastor was always one step ahead, always untouchable, cold, cruel, and capable of truly unspeakable acts of violence with an effortless charm that made his blood boil with envy and need at the same time. 

But the Alastor in front of him…his coat was off. For the first time in fifty years, Vox saw Alastor’s bare skin, his shirt rolled up to his elbows as he allowed another living soul to see him undressed. Unguarded. His eyes, always so alert and aware, were closed. 

Worst of all was his smile. It looked soft. Gentle – or whatever passed for gentle with Alastor. As Vox watched, Lucifer’s lips moved. The words were too soft for the drone to pick up, but whatever it was, Alastor laughed. Not in a mocking or teasing way, but an actual, genuine laugh, as if Alastor was a real boy with a real heart.

100%.

Suddenly, Alastor’s eyes flew open, and he stared at Vox through the screen. The wicked smirk that curled his lips was the last thing the drone ever saw as it glitched, red shaking and warping the feed until it went completely dead, and the three of them were left staring at a black screen. 

Silence reigned. Then – “Well, I’ll be. Looks like the deer found himself a doe.”

Velvette shot Valentino a warning look, then took a hesitant step forward. “Vox – “ Velvette started, but Vox started cackling. Wild, out of control, utterly insane laughs ripped from his wires as his monitor-face went haywire. 

“I am going to kill that motherfucker!”

#radioapple #hazbin hotel #vox is Jealous with a capital J #alastor #hazbin #vox #duckiedeer #prompts #asks

[wileys-russo]

childhood sweethearts (9) II a.russo x reader

playlist one two three four five six seven eight

childhood sweethearts (9) II a.russo x reader

"-don't you have your own clothes?" you smiled in amusement, laid down on your bed as your best friend rummaged through your wardrobe, tossing things aside and mumbling to herself.

"yes but i have nothing to wear! like i told you before i came over here, keep up!" rory turned around and clapped at you making your eyes roll as you sat up and sipped at your drink.

"you my dear however are wearing this!" a few items of clothing hit you in the face as rory tossed them over her shoulder. "i thought we were just going to dinner?" you sighed as you peeled them off, the clothes in question a short black dress and an oversized black blazer for over the top.

"we are! but if we maybe end up somewhere else afterwards...we need to be dressed to show we're open to that." rory grinned with a wink as you only shook your head, having known her long enough to know there wasn't any point in arguing with the hard headed girl.

"so i saw that alessia followed you on instagram." rory mentioned casually, continuing her furious hunt through your clothing as you started to neatly fold everything she'd tossed aside in doing so.

"why are you stalking people again on social media? i thought we had this conversation ro!" you tutted, the girl notoriously known for a deep dive.

"i wasn't stalking! i just so happened to be looking for that picture of us when i visited you in australia and went to the beach which i know you posted. then i saw that our mutual followers had gained one and it was her." rory tried to defend, glancing at you over her shoulder as you fixed her with a look making her eyes roll.

"thought you two hadn't spoke in years?" "our mums reconnected, been to a few family dinners, we're talking again." "thats all i get?" "thats all you get because thats all it is!" you smacked her in the face with a tank top before putting it away, rory finally pulling a dress out she deemed acceptable and making a noise of happiness.

"well thats nice. it always was a shame you guys drifted and stopped speaking, you were inseparable growing up its always been super weird being friends with you both when you're not friends with each other." rory admitted, not ever having a clue you and alessia dated as most of your mutual friends had never known, grabbing your favourite brown leather jacket as you grabbed her wrist.

"you can wear this ro but i swear to god if you drop even a crumb of food on it we will no longer be friends."

~

"this feels illegal! it's a sunday!" you laughed, head buzzing and slightly tipsy as you and rory skipped through town hand in hand, off to your third bar of the evening.

"but you don't have work tomorrow so really it's more like a saturday!" rory grinned, london seeming to agree as the night life was no lesser on a sunday than it was any other night of the weekend, bars all packed out with drunkenly happy patrons.

"where are we even going?" you laughed as you stumbled, rory catching you and slinging an arm around your shoulders as she marched you both on with seemingly a clear destination and purpose.

"okay don't hate me, but we're going to test my skills as a wing woman." rory grinned, squeezing your cheeks together in her hand as she yanked you around a corner and into the line for yet another bar.

"no! no we are not." you shook your head firmly, trying to leave as her hands planted themselves on your shoulders, pushing you forward and toward the door.

"yes we are! you haven't slept with anyone since that horrid cow in australia and i love you so much but you're so fucking tense. you need a shag!" she kissed your cheek, the bouncer looking the two of you over and nodding for you to go inside.

"and just how do you know that! you don't know the ins and outs of my sex life rory." you scowled as she continued to push you toward the bar, the small venue cramped with people, majority crowded around the darts area on the other side of the room.

"what sex life?" rory teased, waving over the bartender as you scoffed and punched her arm. "can't believe you invited me out just to pimp me out, some friend!" you accused somewhat playfully.

"okay so you don't have to sleep with someone but what's wrong with a cheeky kiss? let your hair down baby! you're young, sexy and single." rory purred, shaking her shoulders suggestively and making you shake your head with undeniable amusement at her horrid dance skills.

"four jager bombs please." and with those buzzing through your head, you allowed yourself to be pulled onto the dance floor.

~

"ro you are the worst wing woman ever. that guy was like fifty and balding and that girl had a wedding ring on!" you managed to get out an hour later, now bordering on drunk as you clutched your stomach which was aching from how hard you were laughing.

"well i obviously didn't know that, i thought it was just a ring! queer woman love their rings." rory laughed, collapsing into you as the two of you huddled together on a table in the smokers area.

"see!" she held up your hands and pointed to the five rings scattered about your fingers. "hey if we're using that logic." you moved to grab her hands, pointing to her rings which only made the two of you laugh harder as rory extinguished her cigarette and the two of you returned inside.

"okay. what about him?" "no! balding again." "her?" "definitely straight." "him?" "definitely gay."

"her?" you glanced to the girl at the bar rory was obnoxiously pointing at, smacking down her hand with a laugh, though the sound died in your throat as the girl in question turned around and you recognized the blonde who was with her her right away.

"is that alessia?" rory gasped, already practically running over to the girl as you tried to grab her but it was too late. "rory!" you hissed, having no choice but to follow after her.

"less!" the blonde looked up, just having a second to put her drink down on the table and stand to her feet before rory launched at her. "oh my god! hi?" alessia beamed at her school friend, embracing her in a tight hug as you awkwardly hovered a few feet away.

you couldn't hear what else was said between them but you knew you'd been mentioned the moment alessia's head shot up, looking around until she saw you, rory already stumbling over and grabbing your hand.

"rory no i really don't think-" you started to quietly disagree but before you could finish your sentence you were at their table, multiple pairs of eyes boring up at you as you felt the back of your neck prickle uncomfortably.

rory introduced you both as you forced a smile and gave the group of girls a wave, only recognizing a few of them from when alessia played in the youth groups. "we went to school with alessia." rory explained, subtly pinching you as you still remained silent, nodding along with her words.

"well friends of less's are friends of ours, especially locals!" a girl you'd not met beamed, inviting the two of you to join them. "oh i'm sure they have their own plans!" alessia tried to save you, catching your eye and immediately noticing you were uncomfortable.

"oh we did but they backfired tremendously, turns out i am a terrible wing woman!" rory joked, pinching your cheek and yanking you down into a seat as you forced a laugh. one by one the girls introduced themselves as rory settled right in, joking around as if she'd known them for years.

"well well well, aren't ya a sight for sore eyes y/l/n!" you settled a little as you realised the body squishing in beside you was one you at least knew, ella pulling you into a hug. "all grown up now though!" the brunette joked, bumping her shoulder into yours as the two of you fell into conversation.

you could feel alessia's eyes bore into you from across the table where she sat, constantly glancing over to make sure you were okay. which is why it came to no surprise when you excused yourself to get another drink that she followed.

"i'm really really sorry, i genuinely had no idea you'd come here." the blonde apologized right away, eyes wide as the two of you hovered in a corner by the bar away from prying eyes. seeing the obvious guilt written on her face and not wanting to ruin her night you placed a hand on her arm.

"i don't own the night life in london less, you're more than entitled to go out wherever you want with your friends. i won't lie and say it didn't take me off guard a little though." you admitted with a somewhat awkward smile which the taller girl returned.

"i appreciate that you tried to redivert though. but we both know rorys quite the social butterfly!" you were quick to assure, having appreciated her attempt to let you leave and enjoy your own night.

"is this weird? because i can make some sort of excuse or distraction or something so we leave." the blonde worried, biting down on her bottom lip.

"no! no no please don't feel you have to do that, you deserve to enjoy your night with your friends. look it is a little bit awkward but friends do run into one another on nights out." you shook your head, nodding for the two of you to get a drink.

"don't even try it, i warned you next time i was paying." you joked in an attempt to lighten the somewhat tense energy between the two of you as were quick to pay for her drink,

"wouldn't have thought you were a gin girl." alessia smiled, nodding to the g&t in your hand. "rory's had me on jager and red wine all night, the gins a very welcome reprise." you sighed, the both of you sharing a small chuckle before someone pressed in between you.

"well hello there miss y/l/n." leah grinned at you, your cheeks going bright red at the obvious catching out. "failed to mention you two knew each other when you helped with the football sessions at the school less. care to explain?" she questioned, fixing the younger girl with a pointed look before ordering her own drink.

"we went to school together leah, there isn't anything to explain!" alessia shoved her playfully. "mm i think the lies call for a make up shot of apology." leah grinned wickedly, nodding to the three tequila shots in front of her.

you and alessia sharing a look leah wasted no time doing her own, gesturing for the two of you to hurry up as you sighed but placed your drink down, grabbing the shot in one hand and a lime wedge in the other.

"jesus christ!" you wheezed as the alcohol burnt its way down your throat. "leah no!" alessia groaned as the blonde ordered another round, her arm slinging over your shoulder as she grinned. "ah come on mate, live a little." she teased the striker beside her.

"was she this much of a drip in school?" leah whispered to you, purposefully loud as alessia shot her a glare. "no she's just never been able to hold her alcohol." you smiled, your head spinning from the first shot as leah let out a loud laugh and the two of you threw back the second, alessia following suit with a grimace.

"i like you." leah winked, smacking you on the back as the three of you returned to the table. your previous seat now occupied you found yourself sat beside alessia, pulled into a conversation with a couple of her other friends.

the alcohol flowing and all the girls incredibly welcoming your previous apprehension melted away and you found yourself much more settled. though really you could probably attribute that to the copious amounts of drinks bought for you.

which is how you now found yourself on the dance floor, singing along and dancing with rory as leah, ella and another two of their friends chloe and jess all joined in, some of alessia's group having called it a night and heading off having early flights.

"careful, you're looking a bit green there less." lotte mumbled to the blonde, whose eyes were fixated on you dancing now with chloe, in what could only be described as quite an intimate way. "what?" the striker frowned in confusion at the older girls words, though catching on her cheeks heated up a little and she smacked her leg.

"i told you lotte, we're friends and i'm grateful she's even allowed that. she can do whatever she wants." alessia shrugged, lying to herself and lotte who only hummed, turning back to her conversation with beth.

though as you slipped on your footing and went tumbling to the floor she was right to her feet, hovering for a moment as she watched ella and leah help you up.

"come on russo don't be a stick in the mud!" rory suddenly popped into her line of sight, grabbing alessia's hands as she swiveled her hips with a wink, dragging her onto the dance floor.

alessia shrunk a little in disappointment seeing you were no longer with the group, instead engaged in a conversation with a tall tattooed brunette a few metres away. "maybe not such a shit wing woman after all!" rory joked making a w with her fingers and gesturing to you as alessia forced a smile and a nod.

her eyes never left you as the brunette leaned in closer, the music loud as you giggled at whatever she said, her hands finding your hips and swaying the two of you back and forth.

alessia's stomach lurched at the way you grinned up at her, your eyes locked with hers and seemingly hanging off of her every word, nodding along as the brunette seemed to dominate the conversation.

the same way you used to look up at her, laughing at her jokes and hanging off of her every word. as alessia would stare right back down at you as if you were the only person in the room, because to her you'd always be the only one that ever mattered.

suddenly feeling a wave of nausea came washing over her she mumbled an excuse and darted off to the bathroom, ducking down and dabbing her cheeks with cold water, closing her eyes for a moment as the room spun.

"hey less you alright?" the striker jumped a half foot in the air at the voice of her captain, not having heard anyone follow after her. "yeah fine, just needed a sec to cool off." alessia smiled, trying to leave as leah grabbed her wrist, giving her a knowing look.

"hey, tell me whats happened."

~

having spent the last twenty minutes explaining everything to leah alessia almost welcomed the sticky atmosphere of the dance floor, a welcome distraction from the uncomfortable intimacy of pouring her heart out to her friend in the tiny bathroom.

leah wandering back to the table alessia tried to follow but ella pulled her back in to dance with them, pulling the puppy dog eyes and the excuse she flew back to manchester tomorrow and alessia owed her at least a few more dances.

and as much as she'd missed her boisterous best friend, it was you that her mind routinely drifted to, eyes flickering to where you now sat with the brunette from before, who still seemed to be talking your ear off.

everything seemed fine, and alessia began to try and accept that she soon would have to swallow her pride and watch you likely leave with this girl, no right or room to make any move to stop you.

but as the hours ticked away and the glasses on your table began to pile up, she wasn't the only one watching you cautiously as it appeared you could now hardly hold your head up, rory making her way over to interevene.

"hey, nearly ready to go?" you looked up through hooded eyes at your best friend who seemed to have grown a second head. "ro ro!" you slurred out with a grin, your head slumping to the shoulder of the gorgeous brunette beside you whose name seemed to escape you.

"she's fine, you and your friends should go." the girl smiled, though it didn't seem all that friendly as rory hummed, knowing you were far too drunk to be consenting to anything right now. "we will, but she's coming with us." rory spoke somewhat forcefully, you only giggling as your head lulled back and the room span.

alessia watched the whole interaction carefully, humming every now and then as ella rambled on beside her. she was content to let rory take the lead, however as the girl tried to help you up and the brunette beside her shoved her away, your head suddenly flying forward and crashing onto the table, she could no longer be a bystander.

"she can hardly keep her eyes open, she's leaving with us. so fuck off!" rory warned firmly, alessia squatting down and gently pulling you up to sit again, her hands shoved away by the brunette who you collapsed into with a laugh.

"do you want to leave with them love? aren't we having fun?" the girl asked you as you mumbled something incoherent.

"don't fucking touch her! she's practically passed out and she can't even say her own name let alone yes or no to your advances you creep. so unless you'd like us to call over security i suggest you walk away while you still can." alessia warned protectively, standing up tall and glowering over the brunette as rory slipped in to gently help you to your feet.

"whatever. she's not even worth it anyway!" the brunette scoffed, standing and walking away as alessia balled her fists, withholding the urge to run after her and knock some sense and respect into her, a feeling she'd not had in years, not even when she was pushed around on the football pitch.

"shit!" alessia hurried to grab you as rory tripped over her footing, also having had one too many drinks as noble as her intentions were as the two of you almost went crashing to the ground. "stay here for a second, i'll be right back." alessia helped you sit back down, leaning into rory who sat beside you and nodded.

"everything alright?" leah asked with a concerned gaze over her shoulder toward you. "they've both had way too much to drink and i can't let them get in a taxi like that alone." alessia smiled apologetically as she grabbed her bag, leah, lotte and beth all nodding in agreement.

exchanging hugs with her remaining friends and promising a stroppy ella that she would come and see her and mary in manchester the next weekend she could she hurried back to the two of you, leah following behind to help her get the two of you out the front.

"thank you leah, really." alessia hugged the older girl tightly once the two of you were safely sat in a taxi. "remember what i said yeah? right person, wrong time. if its meant to be, it'll be. if it's not, cherish what you had." leah reminded softly, kissing the strikers cheek and returning inside.

"where's your place less?" rory managed to get out, somehow having given the driver her own address as alessia gave the same. "i can't remember where she lives." rory winced, nodding to you who was now passed out entirely, face smushed against the cold window pane of the taxi, body curled into itself.

"i live a few streets away, she can stay at mine. i'm a bit worried leaving her by herself if she falls down and hits her head or something." alessia bit down on her bottom lip as rory could only nod, hardly able to keep her eyes open.

"you could stay too if you wanted?" alessia offered, reaching forward to tap her shoulder as the driver pulled away. "s'fine. my boyfriends home!" rory slurred with a shrug, alessia nodding and settling into her seat, glancing to you every now and then.

"we needa do breakfast or dinner or something!" rory stumbled out of the taxi as it arrived to her place, blowing alessia a kiss and making her way up the driveway, alessia requesting the driver wait till she got inside before driving off, nodding for him to go once she had.

the drive to her own house a little further away from town alessia's eyes fluttered closed as she crossed her arms over her chest, exhaustion starting to sink in as the time neared one thirty in the morning.

she jolted a little in surprise as something came crashing into her, but she relaxed seeing it was only you, your head resting on her arm as alessia carefully lifted your head and stretched out, allowing you to lean into her much more comfortably as her eyes slipped closed again.

she blinked tiredly as she felt the car come to a stop, rubbing her cheek and leaning forward, clumsily tapping her phone to pay for the ride, not even bothering to look how much it was.

"okay." she sighed looking down at you, popping her door open and carefully sliding out, propping you to lean back into the seat as she did. leaning in she unbuckled you, cradling your head in one arm as the other helped you out, balancing your shorter form which crumbled into her side as she kicked the door closed and walked toward her front door.

the stairs proving much too difficult she mumbled a soft apology well aware you had no idea what was going on, lifting you up and into her arms as she carried you up and to her doorstep as you mumbled incoherently.

setting you back down and rummaging through her bag she grabbed her keys, helping you inside and setting you to sit on her lounge. "lessi!" you managed out with a lopsided smile, eyes opening a little more as your head tilted to the side and you squinted up at her.

"yeah, its me." she smiled back, unable to resist as she ran a hand through your hair affectionately, moving your flyaways out of your face. but snapping out of it she snatched her hand back as if it had been burned, hurrying to lock her front door.

"okay, come on. bedtime!" alessia sighed, hauling you up and helping you to the spare bedroom, grateful she only lived in a single story apartment which meant no stairs. "we can't go to bed! we're not dating anymore silly." you slurred, poking her cheek.

ignoring your remark she sat you down, smiling a little as you laid down with a thump, star fishing in the bed as alessia wrestled your boots off. "okay. theres no way you can consent to this, how do we get you dressed?" alessia mumbled to herself chewing on her bottom lip, tapping her foot as your eyes slipped closed again.

noticing your dress was strapless an idea came to mind as she left you for a moment to pop to her own room, grabbing you some clothes to sleep in. "hey, we gotta get you changed." the blonde whispered softly, squatting down and tapping your leg, your eyes fluttering open as you nodded and forced yourself to sit up.

even though it was hours away alessia was already dreading the moment you'd wake up, knowing all too well the feelings of regret and embarassment which would likely flood your body. only selfishly she hoped unlike her you'd not run away before she woke up.

carefully slipping a large shirt on over you alessia helped you stand for a moment, tugging the strapless dress down and quickly helping you to step into a pair of shorts, leaving your bra and underwear on.

knowing the worst way to wake up was hungover with a face full of makeup it was to the ensuit she gently guided you to next, sitting you down on the lid of the toilet as she grabbed out the makeup wipes which always sat in here for when her friends stayed over.

"lessi!" you managed out again as she squatted down between your legs, gently holding your chin in one hand and wiping away your makeup with the other. "thats me." she promised with a smile as you hummed, closing your eyes as she wiped away your mascara, trying to be as soft as she could.

"missed you." you giggled, kicking her lightly as alessias smile turned a little more pained, knowing it was only the alcohol talking. "i missed you too." she still spoke quietly, popping the dirty wipes in the bin and sighing, her heart aching at the sight of you sat before her in her clothes, in her house, yet you were as far away from hers as you possibly could be.

helping you up and into bed she flicked off the main light, leaving the lamp on in case you tried to go to the bathroom later, pulling the duvet up to cover you in the dimly lit room.

"hey! stay." your hand shot out and grabbed hers as she turned to leave, eyes widening as yours remained squinted toward her. "you need to sleep." she forced another pained smile, gently pulling her hand out of your grip.

"stay lessi. please!" you whined now, rolling over and repeatedly patting the empty space beside you, looking up at her with a drunken pout. "i can't. you'd hate me if i did." she smiled sadly, running another hand through your hair, forehead warm to the touch.

"no. stay." you demanded again, though a little more tiredly as you patted the empty bed, eyes half closed as alessia hesitated, her entire body screaming for her to just walk away, and she should have, she knew that.

but, she didn't.

still dressed in the suit pants and vest alessia had gone out in she slipped in beside you, body tensing as you were quick to cuddle into her, tucking your face into her neck. "night lessi." you slurred out, hardly legible as you hugged her tightly, alessia slowly moving her arms to wrap around your midsection, doing her best to ignore the little voice in the back of her head screaming at her to get up and go.

but selfishly, she would take what she could.

your body eventually slumped into bed, breathing evening out as you finally fell back to sleep, alessia ever so gently prying your arms off of her, slipping back out of the bed.

if you noticed you didn't even stir, stretching out in bed with a deep exhale, mouth slightly ajar as you breathed soundly in and out. and if you'd have cracked your eyes open even just a few centimeters you'd have met alessia's hopelessly lovesick gaze bearing down on you.

or if you weren't so drunk you might have felt her lips press an affectionate kiss to your clammy forehead, lingering for a moment as she squatted beside you, other hand tangled in your hair as she inhaled deeply.

wrenching herself away she hurried out of the room, feet refusing to stop until she'd closed her door so quickly you'd think she was being chased and shutting out an intruder, her heart absolutely pounding in her chest as she slowly sank down, back pressed against the door as realization sank in.

alessia was still very much so head over heels, undeniably and most certainly problematically....in love with you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

chapter ten

#alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #engwnt #woso blurbs #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso

[bloatedandalone04]

Screaming Whispers

➪the one where anakin is a musician and you’re his muse.

Warnings: rockstar anakin, modern au, smut, fluff, swearing to the max, pda, unprotected sex, hair pulling, praise kink, small corruption kink, size sink, his bands name is 'screaming whispers' which translates to 'sw' for short...like sw for star wars??? and i didn’t even plan that, it just happened, jealousy (brief), possessive anakin, fingering, oral (f receiving), soft dom anakin, choking kink

Word Count: 6.3k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

The lights were blinding and his ears were ringing, but Anakin wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. 

He couldn’t see much past the flashlights on the phones and the stage lights that flickered in time with the drums his bandmate, Vinny, was currently pounding on. Live shows were always so much better than being stuck in a recording studio all day, because at least out on stage Anakin could let out all his pent up frustration and no one would bat an eye.

Actually, the way he got so into his performance and really gave it his all had his fans absolutely losing their minds as they, too, fell under the control of the music and the lights and the lyrics. 

Anakin had only been in his band, Screaming Whispers, for just over a year now, but that was apparently enough time to get his and his friends’ names out there. One low budget album later and everyone knew about them, and really, Anakin had you to thank. 

You are his high school sweetheart, and have been his biggest supporter since the day he told you he wanted to do something with music and maybe try to make it his career. 

After writing countless drafts of songs that were all about you and his relationship with you, Anakin asked a couple of his friends who played instruments to rent out a recording studio to record one of the drafts he had actually finished. 

Anakin was the lead singer and guitarist, while his friend, Vinny, played the drums, and his other friend, Theo, played bass.  

It came out sounding decent and Anakin ended up editing it himself before uploading it to his burner account on Youtube, choosing some random photo he had taken of your hand holding his as the thumbnail. 

Within a few days, the video only had about thirty views, and he knew most of them were from you.

When he had first let you listen to the song with a nervous expression gracing his features, he was worried when you didn’t say anything during the whole two minutes and forty six seconds it played for. 

It ended and you turned to him, an unreadable look on your face before you were throwing yourself at him. He had never seen you so needy and desperate for him (unless he counted the very first time you and he slept together), and you spent the rest of the night loving on him because he had written you a song. 

Your boyfriend of over three years at that point had actually made a whole song about you. How could you not tear his clothes off right then and there?

A few more weeks had passed when Anakin randomly decided to see how the video was doing. He was bored and you were at class, and he had grown tired of walking around your shared apartment on campus by himself. 

When he clicked on the video, he was sure he had accidentally clicked the wrong one when he saw that it had gone from thirty views to ninety eight thousand views. It had over forty thousand likes and just under a thousand comments, all of which were praising him and the guys for how good the song is. 

You once again jumped his bones a few hours later when he showed you it, muttering something about how you knew people would like the song once it got more exposure. 

A month later, it had nearly a million views and Anakin was left to assume that the song had gone viral on a different platform that resulted in people searching the song up on Youtube. He didn’t go on TikTok or Instagram as he had no desire to, but was informed by Theo that the song actually did become super popular on TikTok and that was how so many people had found the video on his Youtube. 

Since it had gotten way more attention than he had ever expected it to, Anakin quickly changed the channel name from ‘Manakin 246’ to ‘Screaming Whispers’. It was the first thing he thought of and both Vinny and Theo agreed to call themselves that if they were to ever record another song together. 

Well, just a few days after that, the trio was contacted by a record label and a week later, they were signed onto Dynamic Studios as an official band. 

It all happened so fast. Anakin was encouraged to finish and edit his previous drafts, and that was how he found himself recording a whole album with most of the songs being about you. Vinny and Theo helped out a lot with the songs, but insisted Anakin be credited as the lead songwriter, since the whole thing was his idea. 

The album was called ‘Taking Back October’, and it had been streamed over three million times over various music sites. That, of course, resulted in a tour being booked, and that was where he is now. 

A full year after uploading that song and three months of being on tour, Anakin could safely say he was meant to do this. 

But the best part of it all? He had you watching him from your spot backstage, the biggest smile on your lips whenever he looked over at you from his place on the center of the stage. 

From where you stood, he looked to be having the time of his life. He looked so in his element, so confident and comfortable, and not to mention unbelievably attractive. 

You found yourself biting your lip as you hid away from the crowd. Part of you wondered how he did it, how he was so at home in front of thousands of strangers, but you supposed some people were just meant for the spotlight, and Anakin is definitely one of those people. 

You definitely were not, as just the mere thought of stepping out onto the stage would send you into a full blown panic attack. And Anakin knew that, so despite him wanting to show you off to the world and to his fans - he couldn’t believe he actually has fans - he knew better than to shove you into the limelight like that. 

For now, you were comfortable backstage, two lanyards around your neck that told everyone you were a guest on the tour, and that you were allowed backstage. 

As you watched your boyfriend play and sing his heart out to his song Homecoming Queen, one of the stage crew members came waltzing up to you, a kind yet flirtatious smile on his lips. “Hi,” he said over the loud live music. 

“Hi,” you called back, never taking your eyes off Anakin. 

The guy looked down at your tour and backstage passes, a smirk growing on his lips. “You a friend of the bands?”

That made you glance over at him, and you were immediately uncomfortable at the way he was looking at you. “Something like that,” you answer, and it was true - Vinny and Theo had also gone to high school with you, but they were closer to Anakin, obviously - but the crew member didn’t seem too convinced. “I’m dating the lead singer, this song is actually about me.” You try again and watch as his eyes grow wide before he’s looking on stage and at your boyfriend.

He meets Anakin’s blue orbs, and right away you could see a hint of possessiveness in them, similar to the look he’d give other guys when they looked at you for a little too long back in high school. 

The crew guy just backs away and leaves you alone, making you grin over at your boyfriend. Anakin just smirks before he is back to singing the chorus, all while never falling out of tune with the rest of the band. 

Even though you were buzzing with excitement for what’s in store for you once he’s off the stage and you’d have him all to yourself, you couldn’t deny how attractive he looks on stage. 

The show had been going on for just over an hour, and they would be wrapping up soon. Anakin’s skin was coated in a light layer of sweat, and the leather jacket he had been wearing when he had first walked out on stage had long since been discarded. His muscles flexed under the flashing lights as he effortlessly played his electric guitar and sang his heart out. 

You were sure his throat was raw, but he didn’t stop, and the fans were loving it. You also couldn’t take your eyes off the way the muscles in his neck strained as he reached the higher notes of the song, and you had to press your thighs together to feel some sort of relief for the pressure that had been steadily building up. 

After another ten minutes or so, the band wrapped up the performance and left the stage, leaving the fans still screaming in the stands. After Anakina picked up his jacket he tossed near the drum kit, he handed his guitar to the same stage crew member who had been talking to you, before he wrapped his free arm around your waist. 

Your hands were barely touching either side of his face before he was kissing you deeply, the hand that held his jacket moving to grip your waist. Anakin pulled you closer to him, his adrenaline making his body ache for yours in hopes to find some sort of relief for the energy that surged through him. 

“You were amazing out there,” you praised against his mouth, wanting nothing more than to poke your tongue out and run it up the side of his damp neck. “Like always.”

“Thank you, pretty girl,” he murmured, brushing his lips against yours before dipping his head down to kiss your neck. His hands bunched up the thin fabric of your loose sundress, the flowery print making his want for you skyrocket. “You look hot.”

You laugh, glancing down at the simple dress that seemed to turn him on as if it was the sexiest thing he’s ever seen. “You look hot,” you say back and brush his slightly wet hair away from his forehead. You had to crane your neck a bit to be able to gaze up into his blue eyes, due to the sheer size difference between the two of you. The physical evidence of just how different you two are, even down to your height, had you pressing your thighs together again. 

He wore dark clothes, most of which are adorned with chains, and his left arm was showing off a steadily growing sleeve of tattoos of random things - a lightsaber, a  couple quotes, more than a few vulgar images, and most importantly, an outline of a heart with the initial of your first name inside it on his bicep. His wardrobe consisted of jeans, muscle tees, leather and jean jackets, and vintage - though sometimes graphic - shirts. He wore black boots or converse to tie off every outfit, completed with a couple of wristbands, rings and his signature necklace chain with your initials on the small charm. 

You wore light colors, dresses and skirts that allowed you to show off the soft skin of your legs. Your body was bare of tattoos, with the exception of an ‘A’ on the side of your left wrist. Gold and silver jewelry were always on your wrist or around your neck, and you often wore flats or sneakers that went well with the rest of your look.

It was a big difference between the two of you, one that had been there since you were both seventeen, and it was what drew you into one another to begin with. 

He looked intimidating, scary, even, but you found out that he had the sweetest heart, and he had given it to you.

“I am hot,” he grinned down at you, and the double meaning had you shaking your head as he stepped away from you and placed his jacket over your shoulders. He looked you up and down, biting down harshly on his bottom lip as his hands found their home on your waist again. The black leather contrasted against your light dress in such a sinful way, Anakin almost let out a groan at the sight. “Fuck, I can’t wait to take you back to the hotel after this.”

The band was playing two shows in D.C., so their manager went out of her way to book them a hotel for the night. It saved them from sleeping on the tour bus, which was surprisingly difficult to do, and Anakin could usually fall asleep anywhere. 

He once fell asleep sitting down with his back pressed up against a washing machine in the laundry room at your apartment while he was waiting for the load to dry. He probably would’ve been sleeping for at least another half hour, had another resident not woken him up because he was sleeping against the only available washing machine. 

But, for some reason, Anakin found that sleeping on a tour bus was next to impossible, even though he was given the only double bed because he had you with him.

So, in an attempt to get himself tired, he would spend a good hour with you in bed once he and the band got back on the bus after a show. 

He could only imagine how happy Theo and Vinny are at the fact that they won’t have to listen to the two of you going at it for at least one of the two hundred and fifty nights they spent on tour. 

“Yeah? You excited to spend a night with me in an actual room instead of a bus?” You teased, wrapping your arms around his shoulders when his wrapped around your waist and pulled your body right up against his. 

“I’m so fucking excited,” he answered, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips as the stage crew walked around the two of you to begin packing up the equipment. He leaned down so his lips were brushing against your ear as he whispered, “We can be as loud as we want. I can’t wait to make you scream.”

You refrain from moaning in a public place, ignoring how dumb that sounded when you thought about how loud you got on a tour bus that had only a single, thin door that separated yours and Anakin’s room from the other guys. 

This man made you crazy in all the best possible ways. “Well,” you say back, tugging him impossibly closer by the hem of his white tee shirt. “What are you waiting for? An encore?”

Anakin groaned quietly, cursing under his breath when he felt your hand slide up the heated skin of his torso. “Fuck no,” he muttered, taking your hand in his and guiding you towards the exit door that would lead the two of you out to the parking lot. “I think if everyone in that audience could see just how good you look right now, they wouldn’t blame me for not going back out there and taking you to bed.”

You smirked a bit as he pulled you onto the bus with him and towards your room to indulge in a makeout session before he would give you the real thing once you got to the hotel. 

A short ten minute drive later, and Anakin was painfully aware of just how hard he’s gotten since your quick encounter backstage, followed by your intense making out that took place on the bus. 

Once his manager had given him the key to his room, Anakin pulled you along with him as he made his way to the elevator, pushing the button for the twelfth floor when he was in it. 

He leaned back against the wall as the numbers above the doors increased with every passing second. His lips were on yours in messy and noisy kisses, his hands sliding down to lift the bottom of your dress up as if you weren’t still in a public place, and were probably being recorded because every elevator seemed to have cameras nowadays. 

Once it stopped at the twelfth floor, Anakin easily picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, his hand placed firmly on your back to prevent your dress from slipping up and exposing you to anyone who might enter the hall while he carried you to the room.

He inserted the keycard for room 1209 with his free hand, before tossing it onto the table in the entryway. Anakin’s hands grip your waist after he sets you down and he turns your body away from him, his fingers sliding up your back and pushing your hair to the side. He unclasps the gold necklace he had bought you a few nights ago from a cute store you and he stumbled upon while you were out sightseeing. 

Anakin gently sets the chain down onto the table as well and places a few kisses to the back of your neck before he guides you forward and towards the king sized bed. “Look at that, baby,” he murmurs in your ear, wrapping his arms around you from behind. Since you had discarded his jacket back on the bus, his lips had free rein over the skin of your shoulders and neck as he sucked a few light marks onto it. “It’s bigger than our bed we have at home.”

Home. It seemed like so long ago, when in reality, Screaming Whispers had only been on tour for three months now. Anakin planned on using the money he would get from the tour and the shows to officially move in with you, in your own house, not a student apartment that was on the campus of his old college. 

You were still a student there, but had opted to get all your assignments done before the tour so you could save yourself from having to give up the school year. 

Humming, you lean back against his body. “We still need to get our bags from the bus,” 

Anakin sucked on the skin of your jaw as his hands pulled at the thin fabric of your dress. “I’ll get our stuff later,” he promised, sliding his hands up the front of your body, making chills take over you as he gripped your chest. “You look so fucking pretty, baby.” 

You hum again, closing your eyes when you feel one of his hands inch lower and lower until it disappears underneath your dress. “Just for you, Ani,” you whispered as he softly rubbed your clit through the thin lace of your panties. 

He kissed your shoulder in appreciation as his hand slipped past the lace, his ring-clad middle finger dipping into your heat. “Fuck, you’re so wet,” he nearly moaned, his free arm wrapping around your middle when he felt your body slump back against his. “So wet for me.”

“Ani,” you gasped quietly, moaning when he began to pump his finger in and out of you. The lace restricted him from going super hard, but he much rather preferred to work you up to that, anyway. “Fuck, it’s all for you. You looked so hot tonight.”

“You look hot, too, pretty girl,” he mumbled and removed his hand from your panties as he spun your body around so your chest was pressed to his. “I saw the way that crew guy was looking at you.”

You moaned quietly when his knee separated your legs, his thigh rubbing against your core through his jeans. “I said I was with you,” you weakly say, gripping his biceps tightly when his hands found your waist and began sliding your body up and down his thigh. “Said I’m yours.”

“You are mine,” he rasped, pressing a searing kiss to your lips before he gently shoved you away. The backs of your knees hit the end of the bed and you fall back onto it, your dress slipping up past your thighs and revealing the pastel pink lace that covered your core. “You’ve been mine since we were seventeen.”

You bite down harshly on your lip when he pulls the lace down your legs and drops it to the floor. “Oh, fuck,” you mumbled when he ran his tongue up your folds, eagerly collecting your wetness. 

Anakin glanced up at you, his eyes narrowing at the way you were refraining from being too loud. “No, Y/n,” he says sternly, bringing a hand up to slide his index and middle fingers into you. “We have this whole room to ourselves. I want you to be as loud as you can fucking get.”

Almost instantly a loud moan escapes you when he sucks on your clit, your back arching slightly when he began to fuck his fingers into you. Those skilled fingers, the same ones that had so effortlessly played the guitar in front of thousands of people just a half hour before. “Fuck, Ani. Fuck,” you whined.

Anakin smirked against you, curling his fingers once they are knuckle deep within you. The calloused tips brush against your walls and make you squeeze your eyes shut, finding it hard to believe that a year before all this, the skin of his fingers was smooth and gentle as he only played guitar in his free time before he made a career out of it.

Over a year of playing it non-stop had hardened his fingers and was a blessing in disguise, as they had never felt better when they were buried deep within you. 

“God, it feels so good,” you whimpered as he traced the letters of his name with his tongue onto your clit. “So fucking good, Ani.”

He hummed, sending vibrations up your core and making your mind go into a frenzy. “Louder, baby,” he softly demanded, moving back up your body and hovering over you while his hand picks up the pace a bit. “I want this whole floor to complain about us tomorrow.”

You were so turned on, you couldn’t even bring yourself to be embarrassed about the sounds your core was making as his fingers plunged into it repeatedly. Not that Anakin ever let you feel embarrassed about it, seeing as he prided himself on how wet he makes you every time he goes out on stage. 

“I know you want it, too,” he continues as he stared down at your fucked out expression. “Admit it.”

“I want it,” you managed to say as his thumb began rubbing circles on your clit in time with his fingers. The coolness from his ring contrasted against your searing heat, making the knot in your abdomen steadily form. 

Anakin smirked down at you, leaning in to run his tongue along the skin under your ear. “Want what?” 

“God,” you groaned as he pumped his fingers in and out of you at a brutal pace. “I want everyone on this floor to know who makes me feel so good, Anakin. I want them all to complain about how loud we are.”

Anakin was satisfied with your answer, “That’s my girl,” and he leaned down to begin sucking various marks onto the skin of your neck, the sounds you were emitting going straight to his dick that throbbed against his jeans. He didn’t think he could ever get tired of hearing all the sweet sounds you made just for him, and had been making for him since you were in high school. 

“Anakin,” you moaned, lifting your hips in time with the movement of his hand. “Please, please, don’t stop.” Your lips brushed against his as you begged him to keep fucking you with his skilled fingers. 

He hummed, kissing you deeply. “You gonna come for me?” He asked, already knowing the answer as he felt the way you clenched around his fingers every time your walls sucked him back in. 

“Yes,” you nearly whispered, a crease forming in your brow as the coil in your stomach was a mere few seconds away from snapping. “Please.”

“Come for me, pretty girl,” he requested, his voice deep and sultry next to your ear. “I want it all over my hand.”

You were unable to deny him his wish as you came hard, your thighs shaking slightly and your mouth opening to let out a long and loud moan. Your head dipped back into the middle of the bed, your fingers twisting tightly in the soft comforter as he slowed down the thrusts of his hand until you were whimpering quietly. 

“Just like that, baby,” he praised, kissing you once before removing his fingers from inside you. He brings his hand up to his mouth and sucks the digits clean as he moves back down your body. Anakin licked a single strip up your slick core before standing up, smirking at the way your whole body shook at the action. 

You weakly propped yourself up on your elbows, watching him pull his belt from his jean loops. He drops it to the floor, the sound of the buckle hitting the hardwood making your head swim with thoughts of what’s in store for you next.  

“Take that pretty dress off, baby,” he said under his breath, reaching behind him to pull off the white tee and leaving it to join the growing pile of clothes on the floor. You quickly lifted yourself up so you were kneeling on the bed, your hands fumbling to tug off your dress. Anakin gives you a soft smirk at how obedient you always are for him as you tossed the dress off the side of the bed, kicking his jeans down his legs and leaving him in his tight boxer briefs. 

You gave him a look that nearly had him falling to the floor as he moved forward and kneeled on the bed in front of you, making you crane your neck to be able to stare up at him. Your hands reach up and tug on the hair on the back of his neck, pulling his head down so his mouth could meet yours. 

Moaning quietly against his lips, you arch your back when you feel his hands slide up to unclasp your matching pink bra. He pulled it from your body, leaving you completely bare to his lust filled eyes. He let out a low growl as his hands slid back down to your hips. “Lay back, pretty girl,”

You oblige quickly, laying further up on the bed and resting against the soft pillows. “Please, Anakin,” you whined as he rubbed his still covered dick against your heat. “Fuck me.”

Anakin groaned as he shoved his boxers down, gripping your thighs and tugging them up until they were draped over his. “I’ll fuck you, baby,” he promised, running his tip over your wetness and coating himself in it. “I’ll fuck you so good, make sure everyone knows who made you come.”

“Fuck, yes,” you gasped just as he thrusted himself into you without warning, making you reach out to grip his forearms. Still on his knees, Anakin began fucking into you at a brutal pace, pouring all his leftover energy from the show into the way his hips hit yours. “God, yes.”

Anakin gripped your waist tightly, his eyes drifting from the way your breasts bounced with each thrust to your face as it twisted up in pleasure. “Say my name,” he demanded, burying himself to the brim and pausing there.

Your body tensed up, your stomach muscles flexing as he kept your hips pressed to his. “Anakin,”

“Louder,” he ordered, repeating the action. 

“Anakin!” You shouted, and it was followed by a string of moans as he resumed rocking his body against your own. “God, Anakin, you’re so deep. So deep in me.”

He grunted at your filthy words, the faint sound of the headboard hitting the wall making the whole scene look like it was straight out of a porno. “Fuck, you’re taking me so well,” he praised, reaching one hand up to pinch at your sensitive nipples. He felt you clench around him as he worked on hardening your peaks, his pace faltering just slightly at the tightness of your walls. “Always take me so well.”

“I love you, Anakin,” you whimpered, arching your back and pushing your chest up against his hand. 

He groaned at your sweet words, placing his hands flat against the comforter on either side of your head from where he knelt above you. “I love you so much,” he said back, speeding up his pace. “I’ve loved you for four years now, baby.”

“Nearly five,” you reminded him with a cry of pleasure. “We’ve been together for almost five years, Ani.”

“I know, princess,” he murmurs, leaning further down to press his lips to yours in a gentle kiss, a big contrast to the way his lower body was currently destroying yours. “How could I ever forget about the day you became mine?” 

“Best day of my life,” you mumbled when he leaned back again, digging his knees into the bed as he all but railed into you. “Fuck, you feel so good, Anakin.”

“You’re so tight,” he responded, making your stomach twist with a need to please him forever. You were vaguely aware of the loud smacking of the headboard now, and the way the picture that hung above the bed was tapping with each thrust of his hips. It only fueled your desire for him as your hands gripped the comforter once again. 

Your previous orgasm rendered you a bit more sensitive than normal, so you weren’t all that surprised to feel that knot begin to tighten once more. “Fuck, you’re going to make me come again,”

“Yeah? You’re going to come all over me again?” He mocked slightly, only making your head swim with dizziness at how dirty the whole event is. “I want it. Come all over me, pretty girl, nice and messy.”

Your eyes rolled back just a bit when he reached one hand up to press his fingers against the base of your neck. A strangled moan escaped you as you clenched helplessly around him.

You didn’t think you would ever get used to how he was in bed, versus how he  was out of it. He was sweet, kind and caring with you outside the bedroom, but inside it he was rough, loud and determined to get you off in any way he possibly could. The difference was almost too much to handle. 

A few more deep thrusts later and your core was flooding around him, noisily sucking him in deeper and alerting him of your second orgasm. “That’s it, baby,” he praised, watching as his dick became even more coated in your wetness. It spurred him to speed up the pace so he could reach his own release. “Good fucking girl.”

“Anakin,” you struggled to say as your body shook with overstimulation. “Ani, come, baby, please.”

It wasn’t the first time he had you begging him to come in you, but it still had his head going fuzzy for a second or two, as well as made him twitch inside you. “You want it?” He asked through a clenched jaw, his neck muscles straining as he tried to hold off for a little bit longer. 

“Yes,” you answered, powerless against his sharp thrusts as you took each one. “I want it so bad.”

“Fuck, princess,” he muttered, his pace slowing down as his own release flooded through him. With a couple slow thrusts into your greedy core, he fucked his seed deep within you. 

He falls onto the bed next to you a few seconds later, his chest heaving and a light layer of sweat adorning his skin, mirroring the way he looked on stage an hour or so prior to this. 

Anakin was a lot more drained now than he was before, and he knew that if he were to stay in bed for much longer he would probably pass out with you wrapped in his arms. 

He lifted himself up and pressed a soft kiss to your mouth, murmuring an “I’ll be right back,” against it before he dressed himself in his shirt and jeans, grabbing the keycard on his way out to retrieve both yours and his bags from the bus. 

-

The next day, after spending most of the morning wrapped up in the sheets together, you and Anakin finally decided to get up. 

Kind of.

He was currently propped against the headboard, eating a piece of toast with you on his lap. His acoustic guitar he brought with him was placed in your lap as you softly ran your fingers against the strings, leaning back against his bare chest. You were nowhere near as talented as he is with the instrument, and you knew it would sound awful if you were to try and play it without his guidance. 

“Mm,” he hummed when you plucked one of the strings at his request, tossing the crust of the toast onto the plate that was next to him on the bed. He would usually be more careful so there wouldn’t be any crumbs in the sheets, but he was checking out of the hotel before tonight’s show, so he decided to leave it to the cleaning staff as he knew they would be washing the sheets anyway. “That’s the B string, baby, not the D string.”

“And I’m supposed to know that…how?” You asked as he wrapped his arms around your middle. 

“Well, I’ve only been playing guitar for the entire length of our relationship,” he teased as he placed his right hand over yours. He guided your thumb to one of the middle strings and gently brushed it against it. Of course, it sounded a lot better because he was the one who controlled how much pressure and the pace of your thumb against the string. “That’s the D string.”

You refrained from rolling your eyes at the cockiness in his voice as you strummed along the string again, this time sounding a bit better than before. 

“There you go,” he praised, pressing a kiss to the side of your head as a reward. “That was good.”

You turn your head to give him a small glare. “You’ve never been a good liar,” you mutter. “Especially when it comes to lying to me, it’s why you could never get away with cheating.”

Anakin scoffed, “I would never,”

You shake your head with a dumb grin on your lips as he guides your fingers to strum the tune he had been going over in his head for the past few days. You let him take full control over the way he moved your fingers, noting the soft humming of an unfamiliar song leaving the back of his throat. “New song, Ani?” 

He shrugged from his spot behind you, leaning down to press a kiss to your bare shoulder, your tank top doing very little to cover your skin from him. “Maybe,” he answers as he begins to kiss up your neck, not even needing to look down at the strings to be able to play them perfectly. 

It made you a bit lightheaded, how hot and talented he truly is. “What’s it going to be about?” You ask, eyes glued to the way he effortlessly helped you play the guitar while also holding a conversation with you. His talent always surprised you, despite knowing early on how skilled he is with the instrument. 

“You, obviously,” he replied and you rolled your eyes. “What else would I write a song about?”

“You’re too much,” you say and he laughs quietly, agreeing with you as he goes back to mumbling potential lyrics in your ear. 

A few hours go by and it’s nearing the time for Anakin and the band to head onto stage. He smoothes out his graphic tee and smirks at the way you cowered behind the large speaker, eyeing him with your lip caught between your teeth. 

“God, Ani, you look good,”

“Me?” He asked and reached his hand out to you, pulling you into his arms once you took it. He played with the end of your pink and white skirt, eye fucking you a mere few minutes before he had to go perform in front of thousands of people. “I bet Vin and Theo are so jealous that it was me who got to take you to bed last night, in an actual room.”

You loosely wrap your arms around his shoulders, gazing up at him. “I bet all your fans are jealous that it’s going to be me who gets you all to herself after the show,”

Anakin hummed lowly, pressing a kiss to the skin under your ear. “I’d be jealous, too, if the hottest girl took me home,” he rasped. “Or in our case, took me back to that stupid bus.”

You laughed, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek. Since you had applied a cute pink lip to go with your skirt, a stain was left on his skin when you pulled away. “Oh, sorry,” you say and lift your hand up, but pause when his fingers wrap around your wrist. 

“Don’t you dare try to wipe that off,” he ordered with a smirk. “I think it completes my look.”

And it really did. A black snapback was placed backwards on his head, a vintage shirt covered his chest and exposed his sleeve of tattoos, dark jeans with a few chains connected to the belt loops hugged his legs, and black boots gave him the daunting appearance of someone who was born to be on stage. 

The pink lipstick mark only added to the whole thing.

“Okay,” you swallow harshly, stepping away once Vinny handed him his guitar. “Have a good show.”

“I love you,” he called out as he placed the strap over his shoulder. “I’ll see you soon.”

When he made his grand entrance, the crowd seemed even louder than normal, and you could only hope at least some of them were able to see your mark on his cheek as you hid behind the speaker and watched your boyfriend get lost in his element.

-

Series based off this fic

#anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker #anakin star wars #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin smut #anakin x reader #anakin fanfiction #star wars #anakin skywalker headcanons #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker imagines #hayden christensen #hayden christensen gif #hayden christensen icons #hayden christensen edit #hayden christensen imagine #screaming whispers #screaming whispers au

[iaure]

𝗱𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘁; 𝗮𝗿𝗱𝗼𝗿

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟthe dearest collection - part one/beloved 𓆩♡𓆪 part two/prized 𓆩♡𓆪 part three/devoted 𓆩♡𓆪 part four/desperate 𓆩♡𓆪 part five/blind 𓆩♡𓆪 part six/watcher 𓆩♡𓆪 part seven/ardor 𓆩♡𓆪 part eight/fervor this is very heavily inspired by @//clusterfuck-yandere's yandere leon headcanons; please check out their works. this is something of a love letter to their puppy obsession series.

yandere leon s. kennedy headcanons; reader is a survivor of raccoon city.

tw: general yandere behaviour, stalking, harassment, ptsd, entrapment, delusional thinking

notes: the formatting will be slightly different in some parts, as using the headcanon format with dialogue can feel quite clunky.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ it's here it's here! the confrontation! leon being needy and begging! it's here! there were some zingers in this that made me laugh, and i hope they make you laugh too! i want to write the nsfw accompaniment after part 8 or 9 Ꮚ☆ꈊ☆Ꮚ i'm also getting a new pc!! which will be so so nice!! but that might mess with my writing for a bit, as i'll be getting it set up !

this was too much.

♡ you know, you'd imagine a situation like this a handful of times.

♡ a man sitting before you, with flowers and candles and clothes that looked divine and an expression of reverence beyond worship.

♡ in your head, it weas usually after a year or two of dating, followed by a proposal and living life happily ever after.

♡ but this situation felt like a cruel parody of that.

♡ when you saw Leon on your couch, your blood ran cold.

♡ this was something you'd hear about on some shitty crime podcast or an even shittier show on some late night cable channel.

♡ what was he going to do? drug you? kidnap you? kill you, even?

♡ when he said that you needed to talk, it was like a waking nightmare.

♡ he seemed like he was trying to be as non-threatening as possible, though.

♡ he was staring up at you with big puppy-dog eyes, and his floppy hair fell over his eyes.

♡ he looked absolutely desperate, and when you froze in your tracks, he held up his hands.

♡ "i'm not mad at you! i swear!"

♡ his voice was a bit pitched up, and his nervousness would've been if he hadn't blocked off your door and broken into your home.

♡ "get out of my apartment."

♡ Leon was clearly distressed, trying to placate you with fear on his face.

♡ "wait, wait, please!" he begged. "please, i just need you to listen to me!"

♡ and just for a moment, something wavered.

♡ he was, at one point, your friend. he deserved at least a chance to explain himself before you had him thrown in prison with a sturdy restraining order.

♡ you hesitated, but crossed your arms. "then talk."

♡ and the proverbial dam broke.

♡ Leon, at first, was just babbling, hands waving everywhere as he tried to spit everything out at once before you lost what little patience you had left.

♡ it was almost cartoonish, but you put your hand up. "i don't understand gibberish."

♡ he stopped immediately, eyes wide, and took a breath. he began padding down his pockets for something, and you realised that he was fumbling for flashcards that were sticking out.

♡ when he finally got to them, he took a second to read over the first, and you saw that his hands were shaking.

♡ and as he took a breath to compose himself, you watched his face.

♡ he had a ruddy, blotchy blush across his cheeks, and his mouth was slightly agape.

♡ when he looked up at you past his bangs, you saw his eyes, and they were by far the most expressive part. they were fully on you; not predatory, but oozing devotion. not lust. not childish infatuation. love.

♡ love, dedication, worship.

♡ all for you.

♡ there was a second where he just looked between you and the flash cards, before tossing them onto your coffee table.

♡ "i love you!"

♡ the look you gave him was...unimpressed to say the least.

♡ "and why does that warrant you breaking in?"

♡ you could see his heart plummet at your questioning.

♡ "i...i needed to talk to you. and you've been avoiding me, so..."

♡ "and how does that translate into you harassing me? stalking me? scaring the hell out of me?"

♡ were he a dog, his puppy ears would've been plastered to the side of his head.

♡ it was like you were kicking him while he was down.

♡ you began walking over to your landline, about to dial 911, when he shot up form the couch.

♡ before you could even react-was he going to attack you?!-he made an abrupt dive and clung to your legs, holding steadfast and almost making you fall over.

♡ it was, truthfully, pathetic.

♡ and you stared down at him.

Leon looked closed to tears, placing his head against your thighs and locking his hands around the back of your knees.

"Please! Please don't!" He was whimpering and borderline about to shout, breathing hard. "If you leave, I'll die! My heart would just stop beating! I can't live without you! You're everything to me! You're my world, and-! Please!"

You stared down at him. He looked helpless, like he really would just drop dead if you picked up the landline. And there was a second where you just felt...bad.

Everything he had done was with good intention, even though it was creepy. He never did hurt you, and it was clear that something was just...wrong with him.

He saw your silence, your stillness, and looked up at you with those big hopeful eyes, wide and glittering from his tears. He slowly stood, still staring at you, and began gently guiding you back to the couch.

"Please. Just hear me out."

He sat down, and you sat down, and there was a beat of silence. Then he opened his mouth, and everything came out like a waterfall.

♡ he admitted to being K.

♡ you knew-suspected-guessed-had a hunch-but it still made you ache. how long had he been like this?

♡ his devotion was obvious. he began listing off things he did for the sake of honesty.

♡ he admitted to stealing your clothes, to breaking in and stalking you. at first, it was like a sick joke with everything he said.

♡ but slowly...you started to get less mad.

♡ he broke into your house...to clean.

♡ he followed you to and from work...to protect you.

♡ he never once meant to harm you or others. physically, at least, as he confessed wanting to get Selia fired.

♡ he admitted to having to build up the courage to talk to you, standing outside, watching...out of love.

♡ he tried everything to take care of you.

♡ and something in your heart shifted.

♡ he did this, and certainly he needed help, but was it really fair?

♡ he risked so much to do what he perceived as love. as care.

♡ maybe...you could help him get help. you doubted he was lucid enough to know he needed it.

While you thought, Leon kept on talking, trying to keep you hooked on his words until your patience was gone again.

"I've loved you for...god, so long now. It's been months, I think. You were always just so nice, even to people you didn't know, you know?" He played with his hands, the desperation in his voice beginning to edge away. "Back on the forum, I didn't like that you were trying to help everyone by yourself. And you were always so sweet when you responded to me. It felt like I knew you my entire life. The people from Raccoon City, the people that know what happened...it's really a world of it's own."

You nodded. It really was. Leon sighed.

"Trying to save those two...I never said their names, did I? Sherry and Claire. Sherry was maybe ten, I think. She was under my care for a while, and I saw how the outbreak was scary. Caring for someone like that is scary. And you were trying to do it for so many people. I wanted to help you."

"You know stalking someone is scary?" You glanced up at him, breaking your gaze from the flashcards that sat on the table.

"I'm sorry." He whimpered. "I'm sorry."

"When you sent those messages, I was scared shitless, Leon." Your voice was firm, but quiet. "I thought you were going to kill me or kidnap me or something."

"Never!" Leon's voice jumped. "I'd never do that! Swear to god! I wouldn't ever hurt you! I just-! I was scared. Scared that you hurt yourself, or something. I wanted to respect your privacy for as long as possible, but...I really wasn't sure what happened."

You stayed silent.

"And I love you. I really do." Leon bit his lip, trying not to cry again. "I know I didn't really talk about my family."

"Mhm." You watched him bite, eyes going up and down and across his face. "You knew all about mine."

"I'm sorry."

"Your family?"

"They're...well, my parents died when I was a kid. And a cop took me in. And there was a lot of people liked me when I was a teenager for my looks, and it really messed me up. Literally right before the outbreak, I had just broken up with my girlfriend."

You raised an eyebrow, and Leon gulped.

"Am I a rebound or something?"

"No! No! I didn't mean it like that!" Leon gasped, jumping out of his seat and reaching across the table. Your hands had been right on the edge, and when he touched them, you pulled back a bit. "She didn't really seem to love me, and I wanted someone who wanted more than just a guy who was nice-looking. And you were nice to me when you didn't even know who I was. And you were nice to me at the bakery, and during the power outage, and it was just a lot."

You were silent again, biting the inside of your cheek. Leon began panicking again.

"I wanna marry you someday. If you want to get married, that is. I wanna do everything for you. I want you to just stay home or go out and have fun or do whatever you want while I take care of the house. I want to see you happy. I want to see you safe. I want you to live out the best life you possibly can, and I want to be next to you during all of it."

You finally spoke, and your hands reached forward a bit to actually hold Leon's. He gave a stuttering gasp, and you could feel the sweat building up.

"What do you want out of this?"

"What?" He tilted his head, squinting. He took a second for it to compute, before making a confused expression. "What?"

"You came in today hoping for an outcome." Your words were eerily clinical. "What's that outcome? The best case scenario?"

Leon went still, thinking hard. His eyes glanced to the side, before nodding.

"I want to marry you."

"No."

"Okay." He gave a bitter chuckle at your quick response, face falling with a wince.

"However."

"However?!" He gasped, lighting back up again.

"I'm open to dating-"

Before you could even finish, Leon leapt up with a cheer, picking you up and swinging you around in a hug. The sudden brute strength was startling, but he was too busy rejoicing to notice your gasp.

"I'll be the best boyfriend ever, I promise! I'll do everything for you, I'll move in right away-or you can move in with me! We'll figure it out! I love you! I'm so excited! This is the best day of my life! I love you so much!"

"L-Leon!" You gasped, trying to get some words out past his bear hug. "On some conditions!"

Leon stopped swinging you around, putting you on your feet with a big grin.

"Of course! Anything!"

"One-don't threaten Selia."

"Who?"

"My coworker?" At your words, Leon's eyes went wide, with a 'ooohhh'. "I, believe or not, like hanging out with her."

"Okay." Leon nodded.

"Stop stealing my stuff. Ask first."

"Sounds good!"

"And just walk me home. Don't stalk me."

"I mean, I was doing that before..."

"Don't sass me."

"You're the boss!" Leon bent over to kiss you with a happy smile, but you blocked him with your hand, putting it over your mouth. He laid a full smooch onto your palm, opening his eyes with a questioning look.

"Mmh mmh? (Too soon?)"

"Yes, Leon. Too soon."

𓂋

ʚ♡ɞ taglist @theybotomy ⸜❤︎⸝‍ @kujosuke ⸜❤︎⸝‍  @je-suis-argent-miel  ⸜❤︎⸝‍ @xxacademy ⸜❤︎⸝‍ @apollodarling-writes  ⸜❤︎⸝‍  @gettingsilly ⸜❤︎⸝‍ @yumekos-gamble

#leon kennedy x you #yandere leon kennedy x reader #yandere leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #yandere resident evil #yandere x reader #yandere resident evil x reader #˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ dearest updates #˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ palabras muertas #divagaciones (per)

[senlinyu]

Since ao3 is down, here is a thing that was supposed to be a twitter drabble but it got too long so I forgot about it for eight months.

Dying Wish

//open ended, pining Draco, theomione, Dramione (vaguely), Tragic Theo.

Almost everyone said that Theodore Nott marrying Hermione Granger was unexpected but not surprising. Theo had always been academically insufferable, and Granger was infamously so. The relationship could have almost been called inevitable.

Everyone had stories about the absurdly saccharine workplace romance that unfolded. Coworkers by coincidence, they both showed up for a cancelled meeting, the waiting led to a shared project, and from there a whirlwind relationship.

They were engaged within a year.

A beautiful couple, a perfect match. Despite Theo possessing the near fatal flaw of having been in Slytherin, he compensated for any suspicion held by Granger’s friends by having a tragic life story practically from the moment of conception. A mother who’d died horribly young, and a monster of a father who’d always considered his son a bitter disappointment.

Theo had never taken the Dark Mark, he’d played no part in the war. He was self-deprecating and funny, and knew how to make people like him because he cared about people liking him. The kind of man who was perfectly happy to become ‘Hermione Granger’s husband,’ unlike the previous boyfriends who always wanted her bright but not ‘too bright’.

Draco was happy for Theo. In a very detached and uninvolved way. He wasn’t such a cunt that he would resent his best friend for finding love, even if it was with a person he habitually went out of his way to avoid.

Granger was, after all, a menace with a vicious protective streak, and a known right hook. Draco, in fact, knew it personally. No one was ever going to hurt Theo again, she would make sure of it.

Theo, for his part, had spent his entire life looking for someone who’d let him love them completely. Someone to give his heart and soul to. His adoration for Granger was nauseating, an ocean of unplumbed depths.

The stars seemed to align for them, every piece falling into place to create a perfect match: Two positively revolting swots joined in matrimonial bliss, happy as could be.

No one asked Draco if he wanted to be in excruciating proximity to the entire affair, and yet he somehow was. He helped Theo plan his proposal, and then had to listen to Theo practise his speech over and over without wincing, and then illuminate over five hundred fairy lights , cue a quartet, and then fling a garden’s worth of rose petals into the air, before apparating silently away.

He was the best man. He planned Theo’s stag night. Slapped him across the face when he started hyperventilating, kept the rings from getting lost, and signed as witness to the union.

When it was done and they were off on their honeymoon, he left the reception, and went to Greece for six months in order to detox from the entire revolting affair.

When he finally forced himself to go back, he coddled himself by ignoring most of their invitations, and only accepted the ones where he could arrive late and leave early and barely speak to the hosts.

Eventually Theo stopped bothering him.

After all, it was bad enough to hear how revoltingly happy they were together without seeing them.

Malfoys were emotionally repressed on principle. His father used to say that falling in love was something only poor people did.

If Draco had to witness Granger making cow eyes at Theo, he would suffer indigestion, and his mother had always said he was constitutionally delicate.

He didn’t particularly like company anyway, and Theo’s friends were mostly Granger’s friends, which was not a circle Draco ever felt comfortable in.

His uninvolvement was going swimmingly until he received a short, informal note in shaky writing.

‘I need to see you. Please come. Theo.’

Draco had always been better at refusing formal invitations than personal ones. What the fuck would Theo suddenly want? After all these years?

He tried to ignore it, but the vagueness ate at him, niggling at his curiosity until he gritted his teeth and apparated to Nott manor.

Instead of an elf, or a butler at least answering the door it was Granger herself who opened it.

“Malfoy, you’ve finally come. Theo will be so relieved.”

He swallowed hard.

It had been a few years since he’d seen her in person. Wasn’t she supposed to be blissfully married? Weren’t happy people supposed to glow or something?

She’d been glowing at the wedding. Draco remembered all clearly the way her face had lit up when all the lights illuminated and music started, and Theo, despite Draco’s repeated warnings, was on his knees reciting a poem he’d written for her.

Draco had nearly died from second hand embarrassment.

The memory of how happy she’d looked while Theo compared her to the moon in iambic pentameter before hundreds of people, had been seared irrevocably into his skull. It would probably still haunt when he was a ghost.

She was not glowing at all now. She looked sad, and tired.

“Granger,” he said, even though he was excruciatingly aware that she was married.

He expected her to correct him out of habit, and then he’d retort that she would always be Granger to him, and then they would exchange empty banter and it would pass as conversation, but instead she just said, “Theo’s upstairs,” and led the way.

Draco expected to be led to a study, or a horrible mad scientist type lab designed for two, but instead it was a dark bedroom.

Draco baulked at the doorway, and Granger went in. He could hear the hushed murmur of voices and then she came back.

“He’s awake and having a good day, call if you need anything.” Then she left him there.

Draco watched her vanish back down the stairs before setting his jaw and entering the room. Theo was pale as a sheet, propped up with pillows, his face lit up at the sight of Draco.

“You did come, you old bastard.”

“Yes,” Draco said awkwardly. “Is Granger finally poisoning you for your family fortune?”

He’d prefer to avoid greetings or comments about how long it had been, or asking what was wrong. It was clear that something was incredibly wrong. Theo was thin and greyish, everything about him faded, not at all the picture of health Draco had assumed he would be.

That he was supposed to be.

Theo gave a wan smile. “I wouldn’t blame her, but no. My mother, you might not remember, it was a maladiction that killed her. Apparently I inherited it. Another thing my father didn’t manage to beat out of me.”

Draco’s chest clenched. “Theo, I’m—”

Theo shook his head. “It’s fine. I’ve—worked through it. Mostly. There are stages to grief apparently. That’s what the books say. I’ve moved through denial, anger, bargaining and depression. It’s not entirely a linear process but I’m mostly at the acceptance point now. Figured we should say goodbye.”

Draco just stared at him. “You can’t be serious. You invited me here for goodbyes? Fuck off. You can’t just give up like that. You’re married. You have a wife, you can’t die and leave—“

“If there was a fucking cure, Hermione would have found it,” Theo cut him off, his usually soft voice hardening in a defensive way that startled Draco. “We’ve looked. We’ve tried everything. You’d know that, if you’d ever come around. She’s been trying for years. Admitting she couldn’t—she tried so hard.”

Draco felt like he’d been struck. “I—I’m sorry. Of course you did. I’ve been away. Busy. I have responsibilities.”

Theo rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “It’s alright, I know now why you didn’t.”

Theo sat up slowly. His body seemed shrunken, like a breath of wind could carry him away. “That’s why I needed to see you. I wanted to apologise. I’m sorry for not realising it sooner. I should have. Looking back—it’s so obvious.”

Draco forced a laugh. He had no idea what Theo was talking about but he was really not enjoying the conversation.

“Realising what? What’s obvious?”

“That you’re in love with Hermione.”

Draco’s entire body went stiff, something inside him crumbled and died as his heart stopped completely. His voice failed him the first several times he tried to speak. He looked away, clearing his throat repeatedly.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. You sound mad.” He fidgeted with the potions on Theo’s bedside table, peering at them. “What kind of potions does Granger have you on?”

Theo slumped back, his eyes fluttering closed, his eyelids looked almost bruised with exhaustion. “I think back a lot. Mostly the years since the war, once my father was gone and things were getting better. I was remembering how much time we used to spend together. You were doing community service for probation, that elves thing Hermione founded. And I was going from one bad relationship to the next like some sad puppy.” He opened his eyes. “I was remembering how whenever I told you about anyone I dated, you always used to sneer and said they weren’t good enough for me, and gave the worst relationship advice ever. You Sabotaged me.”

“You had terrible taste,” Draco retorted, still sorting through the potions and still not liking at all the direction the conversation was going in. “It was a mercy on my part.”

“When I told you about Hermione, that I ran into her, and I asked you what you thought, do you remember what you said?”

“I can’t say I do,” Draco lied.

“You said I’d never be good enough for her. Then the next week, you came around again, and I remember you looked terrible and I assumed you’d had another fight with your parents, and you told me if I was serious, I should get a job at the Ministry, mentioned the rumour she’d had a time-turner at school. She was the only person you gave useful relationship advice about. Looking back, I don’t think it would have happened without you. Any of it.”

“Theo—“ Draco shifted awkwardly, having run out of potions to look at, “—it was just a joke, You can’t assume things like that. Granger? Really? Of anyone I could have feelings for. Your wife?” He exhaled raggedly. “Have you forgotten our history? Unlike you, I was a Death Eater. I was in the war. Even before then, I was awful, and they brought her to the manor and I—“

He’s rambling, he knew he was rambling. He needed to fucking shut up.

“I would never have been able to—“ His voice failed and there was a stone lodged in the bottom of his throat and he just stood there trying to keep from smashing everything within reach.

He needed a drink.

He threw a hand up, suddenly angry and turned on Theo, glaring. “It was just a fucking joke. I don’t even remember it.”

Theo simply nodded. “You were right though. I wasn’t good enough for her.”

Draco scoffed at that, turning away, inspecting the view. “I’m sure you did just fine. I always heard that you two were revoltingly happy. People said you were like some storybook couple. You two were good for each other—that’s really all that—“

He was stammering again.

He cut himself off. “You were happy together. Everyone said you made her happy. And I don’t do happiness, it gives me a rash.”

“Shut up,” Theo’s voice sharpened. “Fuck. I forgot how much you talk when you’re lying.”

He gave a heavy sigh. “You wanted us together, didn’t you? You engineered it.”

Draco gave a long suffering sigh. “Theo, you’re a moron. Just because you claim to be dying doesn’t mean I’m going to put up with a conspiracy theory that I’m in love with your wife.”

“Fuck off. You were my only friend, and you were the only reason I didn’t accidentally sabotage the relationship. All the times I would have rushed things, you stopped me. You were the reason why I managed to pull off all my harebrain romantic schemes. You made it work. And somehow I ended up married with the friends and family I always wanted, that you knew I wanted, and where the fuck did you go? Where have you been since then? Not here, that's for sure.”

Draco glanced out the window. “You wanted a new start, Theo. It was all you talked about once your father was in Azkaban. I was the past. Once you were married, you didn’t need me anymore. I was a hindrance.”

“You manipulated me,” Theo said, looking unreasonably infuriated for someone who’d gotten to marry the love of his life. “You self-loathing fuck. You thought you had it all worked out, had everything puppet-mastered. You nudged me right into her path to love her for you. Pushed us together so you would be alone the way you’ve convinced yourself you deserve to be.” He sounded winded. “Fuck. I’d punch you if I had the strength. And the thing I’m the most pissed off about, is that I was so enamoured, I didn’t notice. I thought it all worked perfectly that time because it was meant to.”

If Theo was expecting a confession he was going to be terribly disappointed.

“Maybe it did. I don’t know what you expect me to say about any of this. Even if any of that were true, what does it matter?”

“It matters,” Theo said.

Draco rolled his eyes.

“It matters because you have to take care of her when I’m gone.”

Draco’s heart stalled for a second time, but he recovered faster. “I’m sure you can get everything arranged in advance so she’ll be fine.”

“That’s what I’m doing right now. I can’t ask her friends to do this. They love her, but they don’t understand how to care for her. She takes care of everyone, but she doesn’t remember to take care of herself. She needs someone to be selfish for her, who will do whatever it takes to put her first. I can’t be your proxy anymore, it has to be you now.”

Draco’s neatly manicured nails were biting into his palm, he didn’t even know when his fists had clenched. “Theo…”

“I have spent so much time worrying about her, feeling like I can’t go because who’d be here to make sure she was alright. I’ve considered everyone, and when I got to you, I brushed you off at first, because you used to talk about how you couldn’t stand her. But eventually I wondered, why did you do so much to bring us together? If you really hated her so much. You always knew what she’d like. You figured things out about her that it took me ages to piece together. And you’re actually a rather shit liar, now that I’ve been thinking about it, if you’d really hated her, you would have been a lot nastier than you were.”

“I still don’t see the point in this conversation,” Draco said in a bored tone. “Granger can take care of herself. Especially with your fortune.”

Theo exhaled, like he was too tired now to fight anymore. “You are missing the point on purpose and we both know it.”

Draco did not know any such thing, still it was difficult to keep looking at Theo and he turned away.

“You did a good job at it. I’ll admit, you are the manipulative person I have ever known, if I weren’t dying, I probably would have never known. But now it’s my turn to be manipulative.”

“Well a good rule of thumb is not to tell the person you’re trying to manipulate that you’re doing it,” Draco said in a dry voice, turning to face him.

Theo was holding up his wand and had a wry smile on his face. “Fair enough. But I do have one final piece of leverage.”

Comprehension slowly dawned on him. “Theo, don’t you—“

“Draco Malfoy, it is my dying wish that you care for my wife when I am gone. Support her in her grief, and help her find joy in her future. Be there for her once I can’t be. Help her find herself again. Do you accept?”

Death Wishes were magic out of old grimoires. The kind that only insufferable people like Theo Nott would know how to perform.

Usually they were curses pronounced as the person died, but a rare iteration was rather like an Unbreakable Vow, if Draco refused, Theo would not pass on after death but instead linger as a ghost, attempting to fulfil the wish himself. If Draco accepted and then broke his word, Theo would come back from the afterlife and haunt him.

Bullshit all around either way.

Theo’s wand pulsed with magic, waiting for Draco’s answer.

Draco stood glaring at him. “I hate you.”

Theo glared right back. “If you weren’t such a self-sabotaging, self-loathing moron I wouldn’t have to do this. You think I want you hanging around my wife? I don’t. But being your proxy was also a shit realisation, consider this my way of getting even. You will make Hermione happy and you will get over your self-hatred and do it yourself this time or I will haunt you and I will make sure Hermione knows exactly why it is that I’m doing it. Do you accept?”

The magic was humming louder, growing brighter and Theo was beginning to turn translucent as though the magic was draining his life from him.

“Fine. Yes! I accept.”

The magic flared out and flew across the room, striking Draco and fading into him. He clutched at his chest but the light had gone.

He looked up.

“Fuck you, you manipulative bastard,” Draco finally said, his heart was pounding.

Theo just gave another wry smile. “You know, that’s exactly what I wanted to say when you walked in.” He sank back into bed, looking winded. “I’m glad you came to see me. I was starting to worry you wouldn’t and I was going to have to come up with a whole extra scheme. You saved me a lot of trouble. All worth it for Hermione though, right?”

Draco turned without another word and headed toward the door, desperate to be gone, even though he could feel Theo’s wish like a brand inside his soul waiting to come alive.

“You should go see Hermione,” Theo’s voice followed him, already threatening to haunt him. “You know, she admitted once to fancying you a bit back when you were volunteering at the charity. She’d planned to ask you out, but you never came around after your probation was over.”

#Dramione #draco malfoy #theomione

[corazondebeskar-reads]

you know you never stood a chance - chapter eight

you know you never stood a chance series

eight: in this world, it's just us

series masterlist | prev chapter | epilogue

Joel Miller x f!reader

Words: 4.8k

Summary: Joel and Ellie return to Jackson.

Warnings: vaginal sex, oral (f receiving), like one spank, cum eating, Joel is mean/bad with feelings (but he gets a little better!), this is not canon compliant, no use of y/n, description of injury, two idiots at the end of the world learn to communicate, author is ugly crying because this is the end

also on ao3

dividers by @saradika-graphics

They’d told you last night, of course, when Joel and Ellie showed up at the gates. Tommy had come to your door himself. When he knocked in the middle of the night, you had assumed the worst. Not that the real news made you any less anxious.

They were planning on having a little welcome home dinner, nothing fancy, but something fun for the kids. Maria thought maybe it was a good time to take Alice up on her offer to babysit, since she’d have to get used to it sooner or later.

But then Alice volunteered to help do the cooking, and Maria wasn’t sure who else to ask.

“I’ll do it,” you said immediately.

She raised an eyebrow at you, which made you squirm. “Don’t you think you should be there?”

“Nah, I’m sure I’ll see Ellie around,” you said, giving her an overly-fake smile that clearly said, “don’t.”

“Uh-huh. That’s your call. But if you want to volunteer for diaper duty…”

“I’d love to. You should go, have some fun.”

“You sure you don’t want to come? Ellie was askin’ if you’d be there,” Tommy says.

“No, I’m sure. Y’all go on and have a good night. I promise we’ll be okay here,” you say, with little baby Alé cradled in your arms.

Tommy sighs and pinches his forehead in a way horribly reminiscent of his brother. And, of course, “It’s just—” he says, “I know y’all didn’t exactly part on good terms, but my brother, he’s got a weird way of showin’ he cares and—”

“Tommy,” your tone is warning. “For the last time, it wasn’t like that.”

“I saw y’all kissing,” he blurts.

You’re honestly surprised he kept his mouth shut for the last six months.

“No, you saw him try to make himself feel better after I got mad. Ain’t the same thing. Now y’all go on, go do whatever old married couples in the apocalypse do for a good time. And don’t tell me about any of it.”

They each kissed the baby’s forehead before they left, Tommy promising one of them would be back soon.

It’s heading toward summer, the nights not quite so chilly anymore, so you swaddle Alé and go to the rocking chair on the porch. The street is dark, though you can see the soft glow of the mess hall in the distance.

It’s not so dark that you don’t see him walking. His gait is off, not quite a limp, but you’d know that shadow anywhere—the broad shoulders, the puff of hair, the way he seems to hunch into himself to hide away.

“You’re going the wrong way,” you say before he can set off with whatever stupid thing he was about to say.

“Nah, I’m not.”

“Dunno if you heard, but they’re throwing you a party. You’re kind of supposed to be there.”

“So’re you.”

“Nope, I’m babysitting. Got better things to do tonight than look at your ugly mug.”

He shakes his head, standing now at the bottom of the porch steps. The single lamp flickers across his face, drawing shadows where the stress and age eat away at him.

You look away, down to the baby and the peace over her tiny face, softly breathing through dreamless sleep. Or whatever it was that babies dream about.

“Look—”

“Joel, if I wanted to talk to you, I would have shown up.”

“I’ll just keep comin’ back.”

“I’ll tell Tommy.”

“You can’t threaten me with my own brother.”

“Ok, I’ll tell Maria.”

“Damn,” he shakes his head. “You got me there.”

“Go away, Joel. Go enjoy your party.” It’s softer than you meant it to be, and when his eyes catch yours, you know he didn’t miss that.

He gives you a nod, jaw ticking, and walks away. You want to feel victorious, and you do; it just stings all the same.

Maria comes home after an hour and a half. She’s got impeccable timing, as Alé has just begun to stir and realize that you are, unfortunately, not her mother. Nor do you have milk to offer her. Her little face rubs against your shirt while she begins to wail.

“You got a sixth sense about that,” you tell Maria.

She laughs. “Guess I do.”

“It’s kind of neat,” you say. “Like even after decades of technology and convenience, our bodies still know what to do.”

“It is,” she says absentmindedly, and she’s looking at you in a way you do not want to be looked at right now, so you gather up your jacket and your book.

“Okay, cool, hope you had fun, good night!” You make it as far as opening the screen door before she stops you.

“He come by?”

Your mouth drops open. “You betrayed me!”

“Of course I didn’t. Seriously? It was Tommy.”

“That little rat.”

“You wanna go tell him off? He’s still down at the hall.” She’s got a glint in her eye again, the one that makes you feel both laughed at and cared about.

“You’re not funny,” you say, shaking your head and rolling your eyes.

“It was an accident. He did good when Joel asked about you, but then he asked about Alé.”

You laugh, something warm and fond in your chest, even if your heart keeps ticking up a notch. You turn the knob of the front door.

“They liked your gift.”

Damn it, how does she keep doing that? You pause your escape and look up at her, finding honesty there.

“Ellie liked it?”

“They both did,” Maria says, and tells you how several of the townsfolk had, in fact, not liked it, but Joel and Ellie sure did.

You weren’t sure you were actually going to give it to him, time and irritation having grown into anxiety over it. But other people were giving housewarming gifts, and to be fair, you had made it for Joel.

The quilt was folded neatly and tied with twine. Most of it was an array of colors, working with what scraps could be spared. Maria had assured you that keeping folks warm was always a good use.

He hadn’t noticed, at first. She thought maybe he was having some kind of attack, actually, when Tommy told him it was from you. He had gone oddly blank and frozen for a minute. After he came back to himself, he had run his fingers over the worn, soft fabric, and then cleared his throat and moved on.

Ellie didn’t. She was chilly and pleased as punch to have a blanket. When she unfolded it to spread across her lap, she burst out laughing.

“The hell’s the matter with you?” Joel asked her.

She was laughing too hard to breathe, let alone answer him, so he stomped over.

You had saved all the white squares to spell “fuck you” in block letters across the middle of the quilt.

For a moment, he stood there, just staring at it. But between the way it made his chest feel like it was full of bubbles and the way Ellie was now pointing at his dumbfounded expression and laughing so hard she was crying, he couldn’t help it. He joined her, absolutely fucking falling apart in hysterics.

“No way,” you scoffed at Maria when she reached that part of her retelling.

“Yeah. He lost it. Scared some of the kids.”

It doesn’t take him long to notice. He figures he still had an internal sensor wired to be aware of your presence. A safety feature turned bug.

You’re leaning against the wall across the room, just watching. Taking them in from a safe distance. Ellie sees where he’s looking and jumps up, running over.

She throws her arms around your neck and hugs you. You hug her back, the rush of relief at her well-being overtaking you.

“I’m glad you’re still here,” she says

“I’m glad you’re back. And you’re okay?”

She nods and opens her mouth, then looks around at the hall full of people.

“S’ok, you can tell me everything tomorrow.”

“Promise?”

“Sure thing, kiddo. I’m on patrol in the morning, but I’ll find you after.”

“No, you’re not,” Tommy says, coming up behind you and clapping a hand on each shoulder. He’s looking over Ellie’s shoulder, where Joel hovers on the other side of the room, hands shoved in his pockets.

“Ain’t this your party? Go have fun,” he says to Ellie.

You watch as she bounds over to Joel and points to you, like he hadn’t seen you first.

Tommy gives your shoulders a squeeze and leans in close. “Look, I know ya said you weren’t scared, but you look it. You don’t gotta tell me anything, but if you need me to keep him away from you, just say the word.”

Not for the first time, your heart clenches with fondness, and you duck out of his grasp so you can turn to face him.

“Don’t worry about me,” you say, trying to put as much earnestness into the words and your eyes as you can.

“M’serious. He’s my brother, and I love him, but I know he’s not always done the best things and—“

“Hey.” The sharp tone of your voice stops his rambling. “Thank you, Tommy, seriously. But I promise it’s fine.”

Joel wasn’t going to bother you again. He wasn’t. But then he caught Tommy shooting him a suspicious look over your shoulder, and he can’t stop himself from making his way over.

Tommy’s telling you about your shift change tomorrow, something about having to swap someone to cover for Sam, which turned into a whole mess of scheduling. You’ve been bumped to dinner duty, which is fine by you anyway.

You don’t get to tell him that, though. Something flickers across his face, a wrangled mess of hurt and happiness. It’s the only warning you got.

“Y’ain’t over here botherin’ her, right?” Joel says gruffly.

You roll your eyes. “You two are somethin’ else.”

Tommy rubs the back of his neck, but Joel says, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You spin around to stare him down, arms crossed over your chest. “It means I don’t need either of you playin’ bodyguard, but especially not you.”

“If ya came here just to yell at me, let’s go outside.”

“Fine,” you snap. You hadn’t, actually, but then again, he’s always done this, crawled up under your skin like a tick.

And so you find yourself in a sick copy of six months past, standing and glaring at Joel outside the mess hall, arms folded across your chest.

“Well, go on then,” he says.

You open your mouth to say something mean, anything really, but what comes out is, “Is Ellie really okay?”

He opens and shuts his mouth. “Uh, yeah,” he says, and rubs the back of his neck. “She will be. She’ll be pissed if I tell you everything without her, but we had a real rough go of it, coupla close calls.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, seeing their mangled bodies from your nightmares. You take a deep breath and find him watching you with a pinched brow and a deep-set frown.

“And you? You’re okay too?” you say.

“Yeah, a’course. I’m fine.” He pauses and scratches his beard. “Look, m’not sorry.”

“Fine.” You turn to walk away, to go back and grab your things and get out of there before Tommy can see that you’re upset.

“Now, just hold on a minute,” Joel says, jogging to follow after you. “You hear me out.”

“No thanks. I don’t need an excuse, Joel. We don’t owe each other a damn thing.”

“Can you just stop bein’ a stubborn brat for two goddamn minutes? I’m tryin’ to tell you something.”

You spin around to face him with a nasty sneer you hadn’t worn the whole time Joel was gone. “Maybe I don’t want to hear anything you have to say to me.”

He pushes you up against the wall. It’s not rough, but he’s got a firm grip on your shoulders, and for one fleeting moment, you think about yelling for help. He must see something in your eyes because he drops his arms to his sides and steps back.

“Wasn’t gonna—I wasn’t gonna hurt you.” He mumbles the last bit to the ground, can’t look you in the eye, can’t see fear on your face for the first time.

“Wait,” you say as he turns to leave. “I know you weren’t, Joel.” You can’t look at him either, voice quiet. “I’m just not used to people touching me like that anymore.”

“I’m not—I swear—”

“I know. Joel,” you sigh and look up at the stars, wishing you believed in any higher power to ask for a little guidance. But you don’t; you’ve seen enough that all you trust is your own two feet on the ground and the whole damn Miller clan.

You scuff the toe of your boot in the dirt. “Why’re y’all like this?” you grumble.

“What?”

Whoops. You hadn’t actually meant to say that out loud. You sigh again and look up at him. “We can’t fight. I don’t want Alé to think her uncle and auntie can’t get along.”

“Auntie?”

“Yeah. Your dumb ass left me here with your brother as a watchdog. What did you think was gonna happen?”

Truth be told, he didn’t know. Didn’t really know Tommy anymore. “That’s good,” he says after a moment. “I’m glad ya weren’t alone.”

“Oh, I tried. He’s a persistent little fucker.”

He looks up at you and sighs, shaking his head. “I’m still not sorry,” the words come out fast, like he knows he’s got thirty seconds before you run away again. “Nearly died too many damn times. Don’t think I could’ve gotten us all out alive.”

You’ve thought about this moment more than you’d like to admit. Thought about the things you were going to say, the cruel ways you could dig between his ribs and pry. Thought about slapping him in the face, even. But in the end, you’re too tired of it all to consider any of it.

“If you wanna talk, let’s go someplace and talk.”

It catches him off guard. You feel spitefully pleased that he doesn’t know what to expect from you. But it stings a little, too.

You end up going back to his place. Tommy had wasted no time helping get things set up for them to have a home, hopeful that it would keep them there.

You make tea in his kitchen, using the things he didn’t know he had. He accepts a mug of it, even though it’s decaf.

“Too late for you to be having caffeine anyway,” you scold when he grumbles.

He sits down across from you at the dining table, mug wrapped in both hands. You take a moment to look at him. He looks more than six months older. He’s gone grayer, and there are new scars, new marks on him that you don’t recognize.

He looks away from your scrutinizing, tapping fingers against his mug, and shakes his head. “I ain’t got a thing to say for myself. I’m not sorry I left you here, but I am sorry I hurt you.”

Your mouth runs off without you. “Holy shit. Who are you, and what’ve you done with Joel Miller? An apology?”

But he doesn’t laugh. He doesn’t roll his eyes and call you a brat. Instead, he looks down at the table and purses his lips.

It makes you shift in your seat, legs turning automatically to angle for a better escape route. “Hey,” you say, swallowing hard. You wait until he looks up. “It is what it is. I didn’t have any delusions about what this was.” You gesture loosely between you.

“I mighta.”

You feel a lot like the time your sister pushed you off the diving board at the neighborhood pool, limbs flailing until you landed flat on your stomach in the water. “Run that by me again?”

“I got it in my head that you were mine. And then I didn’t like that much, so I told myself I was doin’ what was best for both of us.”

It’s your turn to purse your lips, but you don’t look away, afraid that if you do, he’ll stop talking.

He sighs again. “Look, I ain’t good at this. But I care about ya, okay?”

“Joel—”

“I know you’ve got a life here, now. Don’t know if you’ve got any room in it for me. But Ellie knows it’s my fault you didn’t come, so don’t go pushin’ her away, okay?”

“Joel—”

“And I know you got close with Tommy. I’ll just meet up with him somewhere you’re not, tell him he’s gotta warn you if I’m comin’ over or something.”

“Joel!”

He shuts his mouth, eyes wide.

“God, when you get going, you get going. I don’t think you’ve ever said so many words to me in a day, let alone one sitting.” It’s not what you meant to say. It’s never what you mean to say, and usually, you don’t care about your runaway tongue, but right now, you really want to say the right thing.

You’re not so far. He’s shutting down quick, you can see the walls going back up as he works his jaw back and forth.

“Joel,” you try again, softer. “You don’t have to do all that. I care about you, too. I spent so long trying not to that when you gave me an excuse to hate you, I jumped on it. I’m not any good at this, either.”

He watches your face carefully, peeling his fingers away from his mug and reaching the hand across the table. His warm hand slides between your own and your mug. He cradles it, your right hand in his left. Your breath catches.

You stare at where you connect, his broad palm covering yours. There are fucking butterflies in your stomach, like you’re a fucking teenager. Your ears and the back of your neck burn as you have to bite your lip to keep from grinning.

“What’s so funny?” He starts to pull back.

You tighten your grip and hold on, giving in to the urge to smile. “Not laughin’, Miller. Just,” and you shake your head. “We’re too damn old to be so stupid about this.”

He shakes his head, jaw twitching, before his own smile peeks through. “Y’ain’t wrong.”

You sit there for a few minutes, the silence warmed by your still-steaming tea and clasped hands.

“I know you said we don’t owe each other anything,” he says slowly. “But I was thinkin’ maybe I owe you a better kind of apology.”

“Oh yeah? You gonna get on your knees and grovel for me?”

His smile curls into a dangerous smirk. “I’m gonna get on my knees, but you’re gonna be the one beggin’, sweetheart.”

“Don’t make promises you aren’t going to keep.”

He pulls his hand from yours and takes both mugs, dumping them down the sink while you protest. But you don’t whine about it for long, because he turns and quirks an eyebrow at you. “If you’d hurry up, I was plannin’ on making good on that promise right now.”

You let him pull you up the stairs, trying to leave your anxieties behind on the landing. He’s kissing you before the bedroom door is shut, sliding his hands up your shirt to hold onto your bare waist.

“This okay, darlin’?”

You nod, bumping your nose against his in your eagerness to recapture his lips. You think he meant to go slow, but it doesn’t work out. Neither of you really know how, anyway, though you think maybe you’d like to learn.

Once he has you peeled out of your jeans and tee, he sits you on the edge of the bed and goes to make good on his promise.

“Wait,” you say, even though the last thing you want him to do is stop.

He freezes, worry written in the lines of his face.

“You can’t really be on your knees like that, Joel; they’ll be so swollen tomorrow.”

“S’worth it,” he grunts, trying to bat off your hands where they’ve wrapped their concern in his shirt.

“Nah, get up here,” you say, tugging until he eases himself back up.

“Fine, I got a better idea anyway,” he says, laying back on the pillows and pulling until you straddle him. “Get up here, sweetheart.”

You feel like you’ve come down with a fever, body gone hot but shivering from the cold. “Um, what?”

He shakes his head, mostly at himself. Of course you don’t know what he wants; he’s the only person in this godforsaken world that’s eaten your cunt.

“Come sit on my face, baby. Let me taste you. And no, y’ain’t gonna hurt me, just get up here.”

You shuffle forward until he loses his patience and yanks on your hips, jerking you forward so you have to catch yourself on the headboard. It works out anyway since he doesn’t give you any time to settle before he’s pulling you down. He licks right into your cunt, not wasting any time, before licking up to suck at your clit.

You cry out and apologize as your hips jerk forward.

“S’good, baby, take what you need,” he says, hot breath against your cunt before he gets back to work. He has you falling apart in no time, greedily lapping at everything you offer.

“Anyone touch you while I was gone?” he growls, nipping at your clit.

You cry out and grind down into his mouth, but he pulls back a little and slaps your ass.

“I asked you a question.”

“No, no one,” you gasp, trying again to reach his mouth.

He rewards you with his tongue, licking and sucking and biting until you give him another orgasm.

“Why’s that, pretty girl? Surely you could have fucked your way through this town by now.”

“Don’t—ahh—didn’t want anyone else.” His mouth has you confessing like your mama used to insist on when you were little. Admitting your most shameful secrets in the dark room. “Never did.”

He leans back to talk again, and you whine, a truly desperate, pathetic enough sound that he forgets what he had to say and gives you what you want.

He doesn’t quit until your thighs are shaking with the effort. He taps your leg to get you to slide off and immediately flips your positions so you’re caged under his body.

You bring your hands up to his biceps, gliding them over his broad shoulders, and cup his face. He leans down, pressing his lips to your forehead as he slides into your warm, welcoming cunt. He pulls his head back a little to watch as he presses inside, drinking up the way your mouth falls open in a silent gasp, muscles tightening against the stretch.

“Shh, baby, just relax. You can take it,” he kisses down your neck as he whispers. “I know it’s been a while, but that pretty little pussy can fuckin’ take it.”

You’re trembling under him, twitching and writhing as he kisses and bites across your collarbone and down to your breasts. He works himself deeper, sucking on your nipples until you cum again, muscles loosening just enough until his cock is buried to the base.

“Fuck,” he bites out, gritting his teeth and grinding into you. “Fuckin’ hell, I missed you.”

He catches the look in your eye and cuts you off. “And not just your cunt, either, smartass.”

You grin, and he kisses you, licking inside like he can wipe away your smugness.

You break away and kiss his neck up to bite his earlobe. “You fuckin’ like it.”

The look he gives you is overwhelmingly fond. It feels like something cracks inside your sternum.

“Yeah, I do,” he says.

You bury your face in his neck, biting down on the tendon on a particularly rough thrust. “You can’t just say shit like that, Joel. You’re gonna make me think you like me.”

“I don’t know how else I gotta say it, baby. I like you.”

You whimper, and he doesn’t press you to respond. Doesn’t need to. Instead, he brings his hand down to worry at your sore clit, brushing gently as you arch up, squirming both toward and away from the overstimulation.

“One more, gimmie one more,” he demands, pace increasing. Your body, as always, listens, and as your cunt grips him, he pulls out to spill on your pussy, coating your coarse curls in his spend.

He doesn’t leave you time to wonder if he’ll go back to cleaning you up now that there’s running water. He slides down, crouching, and licks your combined mess before climbing back up to kiss you and share the salty tang of your pleasures.

He doesn’t leave you time to wonder if he’ll kick you out, either. “Stay,” he murmurs against your lips. “Please.”

You nod, letting him melt you into the mattress with his soft touches.

He gives you his shirt to sleep in, his possessive post-orgasm brain demanding to mark you further. Unfortunately, he didn’t think it through, because that’s when you see it.

“What the fuck is that?” you ask, pointing at the still-pinkish scarring.

“Oh, that’s nothin’,” he says, arms dropping to lay across it in maybe the least casual way you’ve ever seen.

But you’ve got something sharp behind your eyes, something calculating. “You said you were fine.”

“I am fine. Quit your worryin’.”

“Fine, don’t tell me. I��ll hear it from Ellie tomorrow. Unless you want a chance to give me your version of the story.”

He groans and covers his face with both hands. “Fine. I fell and had a run-in with a bit of rebar. But I’m fine now.”

“You keep sayin’ that, making it sound like you definitely were not fine at one point.”

He thinks you’re going to be mad all over again, that you’ll say there was something you could have done, had you been there.

“I was fine until I wasn’t. We got it out, Ellie stitched me up, and we rested until I was better.”

“And the part you don’t want to tell me?”

“It got infected. Sepsis or some kind of bacteria. It wasn’t… it didn’t look good. Honestly, I don’t remember much of it.” He chances a look at you, and the tight feeling in his chest starts to creep in.

“Joel,” you whisper. You purse your lips, eyes scrunching, and take a shaky breath through your nose.

“Darlin’, please. I don’t—I can’t do this right now. Ya can’t cry like this right now.”

You close your eyes and take a few breaths. “Okay. But promise you’ll tell me everything another day?”

“I promise. C’mon, lay down.” He tugs at your wrist, and you let your body follow, curling up to his bare chest.

“It doesn’t hurt?”

“Nah, I’m tellin’ you. It’s fine now.” He presses a kiss to the top of your head and then helps himself to another at your lips. “Stop that,” he says when your eyes well up again.

“M’sorry. It’s just been a helluva fuckin’ day.”

“I know, baby. But you can rest now, okay? I got you.”

You don’t have to look far to find Ellie in the morning. She’s sitting at the kitchen table when you come down in just Joel’s shirt and your panties. Luckily, it’s long enough to cover everything, but you both freeze for a moment, staring at the other’s wide eyes.

“Come on,” she groans. “Are you fuckin’ kidding me? One night. You couldn’t go one night?” She’s thrown a hand over her eyes.

“I’m not naked, you drama queen,” you say, setting the kettle on.

“It’s so gross; he’s so old,” she groans.

“I’m not that much younger,” you remind her.

“Yeah, but you’re like, cool and stuff.”

“Sorry, honey,” you say, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and pressing a kiss to her hair. “I’m not that cool, either.”

She lets her head fall against the table. “Nope, can’t do it. I’m going to the mess for breakfast. Please, both of you be dressed, and like, six feet apart when I get back.”

You just laugh, digging through the cabinet for clean mugs as she grabs her bag and flees.

“What’s all the ruckus?” Joel asks, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist while you pour the tea.

“Oh, just traumatizing the teenager all over again.” You crane your neck to press a kiss to his cheek, but he catches you and steals it from your mouth instead.

“Be careful,” you murmur. “I could get used to this.”

“I fuckin’ hope so,” he says, “‘Cause I could get used to this. Pretty girl in my shirt makin’ me a drink.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, exactly like every day when I lived in your apartment.”

“Well,” he holds you a little tighter, kissing up your neck before resting his chin on your shoulder. “Maybe not exactly like that.”

epilogue

This is the end, y'all. I love you, and thank you so so much.

*title from "As It Was" by Harry Styles

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #you know you never stood a chance series #the last of us fic #the last of us smut

[dilemmaontwolegs]

The Aftermath || LN4 {3}

Pairing: Lando Norris x widow!reader Summary: Things are changing between you and Lando, slowly but surely pulling you further from your grief. Warnings: 18+ only, grief and loss, fluff WC: 2.3k

F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten || Eleven || Twelve || Thirteen || Epilogue

You weren’t quite able to pinpoint the moment things changed between you and Lando. It had been subtle and it had been soft, but there was no doubt it was felt on both sides.

Maybe it began the first day he showed up, when he had rescued you from the hole you had buried yourself in. Maybe it was the night he woke you from the recurring nightmare that plagued your sleep and he had held you until you could breathe steadily again. Maybe it was when he invited you to England and you said yes.

You were both surprised by the answer considering only a month ago you had struggled to leave the house and now you were going to leave the country. It was progress, and it wasn’t forever - just for ten days while Lando did some testing in Woking and raced at Silverstone. 

There was only one condition to your trip, and your stance was firm on it. You did not want to see him in his race car. Just the thought of it made you ill despite him having raced the other week in Austria. You hadn’t been able to turn on the tv while the race was on, in fact you had turned your phone off completely too so you didn’t hear any news about it.

What you didn’t know couldn’t hurt you. Or that’s what you told yourself when you spent hours trying to distract yourself out in the garden. The roses were trimmed terribly because you hadn’t been able to concentrate on what you were doing. You were lucky you still had your fingers intact after some of the wayward clippings you had done while your mind drifted away on you.

It was only after you knew the race had surely finished that you turned your phone back on to see dozens of missed calls from Lando, the voicemails growing increasingly more frantic as he begged you to answer him.

“Is this all you’ve packed?” Lando asked as he picked up the carry-on sized suitcase. 

“Most of my clothes are too loose,” you said with a shrug to ease his mind but you could see the worry crumple his forehead. “It’s been a while since I last went but there’s still shops in England, right?”

He chuckled as he put the bag in the boot of the McLaren René had given you. “I could get you some Quadrant gear. It would look good on you.”

“Because it’s yours or because I can make anything look good?” you joked as you pulled an exaggerated pose for an imaginary photoshoot.

His smile grew as he unzipped his bag, pulling out an oversized hoodie with his brand’s logo on it. “Let’s see.” 

He pulled it over your head and you dutifully slipped your arms in as you inhaled his scent that clung to the soft material. 

Taking a step back he tapped his fingers across his lips. “Hmmm,” he hummed deep in thought before nodding. “Both. Definitely both.”

Lando opened the car door for you, closing it behind you before walking around the car and taking the driver’s seat. “Did I pick up my passport?” he asked himself as he buckled his seatbelt and frowned.

“No,” you said with a shake of your head before pulling it out of your handbag to wave it in front of him. “But I did.”

“What would I do without you?” he swooned dramatically as he took it and shoved it into his hoodie pocket. The car roared to life and he connected his phone to the airplay since your playlists were a year out of date.

“Go out, have fun and live it up in your 20’s like you should,” you offered as he pulled out of the driveway.

“You’re in your 20’s too.”

“I don’t know how to have fun anymore and I think I age in dog years now, so really I'm in my mid-thirties. Which sucks because I’ll be due a midlife crisis soon.”

“I am going to prove you wrong,” he said as he reached over the gearstick and took your hand. “We are going to go out and have fun, promise.”

You were grateful to have Lando’s hoodie when you landed at Heathrow and saw that the summer weather in Monaco hadn’t extended to the UK. A miserable grey skyline greeted you outside the airport before a horn tooted in the pick up zone and Lando waved to his friend Max.

The footpath was slick with puddles and the rain only seemed to get heavier as you prepared to leave the shelter of the terminal for a mad dash to the car. Before you could step out into the downpour, Lando stopped you and pulled your hood up over your head then donned his own and took your hand. 

The first time he had held your hand you had been left feeling confused and guilty. It had been the first time you felt safe in a year. It had been the first time you had felt warmth in a year. It had felt like a betrayal because it had only been a year. 

You had tried to put distance between the two of you after it happened, pushing him away and rebuilding the wall around your heart that he had been stealthily dismantling brick by brick. But in true Lando fashion he had blatantly ignored your request for space and instead arrived back at your home with a large suitcase and stayed even more.

It had taken time but Lando had convinced you of what deep down you already knew, René would want you to be happy. He would not have cared that the happiness came in the form of his teammate and friend - if anything, at least you knew it was someone René had trusted and shared the same values with.

Once you were able to accept that truth and forgive yourself for the guilt you had felt, things got better. Now you welcomed the small touches, the soft kisses he pressed to your forehead and the grounding weight of his arm when he draped it over your shoulders. 

“Ready to run?” he asked as he tugged the strings for your hood, closing the gap around your face to minimise the chances of getting wet. 

“No, just please don’t let me slip and make an ass of myself.” You could see the phones pointed your way, thumbs tapping the capture button as they took photos of you and Lando. The hoodies weren’t enough to hide your identity but you had grown used to the attention over the years of dating and then marrying an F1 driver, it was just different now that the pictures were with Lando.

“Never,” he chuckled and tightened his fingers laced with yours, “only I can take embarrassing pictures of you.”

You sent him a droll stare but he just smirked before Max tooted the horn again and you both rushed out into the rain. Your shoes splashed into the puddles and soon a giggle escaped as you tipped your head back to feel the cold and refreshing droplets on your lips while Lando opened the car door for you. 

“As much as I love hearing you laugh, come on before you catch a cold,” Lando said with a smile as he placed his hand on the small of your back, guiding you into the backseat. 

“Hey, Max,” you greeted the former racer who had been in the same up and coming circles of drivers as René had been. He had become a familiar face in the last month whenever Lando jumped on the simulator in the basement and streamed with the rest of his Quadrant esports team.

“Hey, Y/N,” he nodded to the hoodie with a grin as the boot slammed shut and Lando sprinted to the front seat, shaking his hair out as he pushed his hood back. “Nice kit.”

“What’s up, bro?” Lando greeted him before following his line of sight to you in the backseat. “Looks good, right?”

“Yeah, you could totally do modelling, or be an influencer.” 

“No thanks, that sounds horrible,” you said with a roll of your eyes as you buckled up. “Plus, I deleted all my social media accounts so I have no one to influence anyway.”

Max shook his head in disbelief before focusing on the road as he pulled out into the midday traffic and headed to the hotel Lando had booked. 

“That Monaco tax holiday is paying off, smart lad,” Max joked as he pulled up at The Shard in the heart of the city. “Did you get the tickets?”

Lando’s eyes flickered your way and Max bit his lip before mouthing ‘sorry’ and Lando sighed. “Yes, I got those explicitly stated surprise tickets.”

“Do I get to know what they are?” you asked as you leaned in between their seats. 

Lando turned and booped you on the nose. “Nope, that would ruin the surprise.”

“What should I wear?” you asked Lando as you tried to phish for information on where he was taking you while you rode the elevator up to the room on the 50th floor, but he really wasn’t giving you much.

“Whatever you feel comfortable in.” 

You tugged the hem of the hoodie down lower so it hid your denim shorts and looked like you were wearing nothing underneath. “What if I’m comfortable in this?”

His lips tugged up in amusement. “Then you can wear just that.”

“Hmm, so it’s nowhere fancy, that’s a relief.”

“I would totally take you somewhere fancy in that. I especially like this part,” he said as he turned you around so your back was to the mirrored wall. 

“My ass?” you joked as you looked back over your shoulder.

“That too, or more, actually, but I was talking about this,” he explained as dragged his index finger across his name that was printed just above the hem. 

Your breath caught in your throat at the touch and you peered up at him as the temperature in the elevator skyrocketed faster than it was carrying you up the skyscraper. 

Maybe it was being out of the house you had shared with René that spurred the sudden freedom you felt, or maybe it was the culmination of touches and sweet gestures that had been building for weeks. Whatever it was, the cage you had kept the last little piece of yourself hidden in was unlocked by it.

His eyes held yours as his palm came to rest over his name and pulled you flush against his body. Your hands naturally found their way to his shoulders as you steadied yourself and you were struck by the grey that danced in his blue eyes, holding the same electric intensity of the storm you were sheltering from. But this was your true shelter, his eyes, his arms, they were your safe haven.

“Lando?” you asked shakily as your eyes drifted down to his full lips that he wet with his tongue.

“Yes, Y/N?” he asked, his voice dropping an octave.

“Will you-” Your lips sealed shut as the doors opened at the leisure centre floor and a woman in her gym gear hopped in. 

A frustrated groan nearly escaped when Lando changed his hold on you, curling his arm around your waist as he chuckled into your hair. Unfortunately the woman was only a floor below you so there was no time to pick up where you left off and then Lando’s hands were preoccupied with carrying the bags to the suite.

The space was stunning as you took it all in and your heart skipped a beat at the sight of the large bed, the only one in the suite. There had been nights when Lando fell asleep next to you, when your nightmares woke him up and he didn’t have the energy to go back to the spare room he had taken over. But this was different. 

Walking further into the living room you froze at the terrifying landscape before you, the sprawling city almost invisible beneath the blanket of clouds across the skyline. It was dizzying how high up you were with only a thin pane of glass separating you from the storm outside. 

“I’m afraid of heights,” you whispered as you took a step back and into Lando’s chest, his arms enclosing around you.

“I won’t let you fall.” His breath was warm on your neck as he kissed your racing pulse. “Now, what were you going to ask me in the elevator?”

You turned in his arms and draped your arms around his neck as your heart threatened to beat right out of your chest. “Will you…kiss me?”

You felt his smile on your skin as he kissed your forehead and you tipped your head back to tell him that wasn’t what you meant but he was quicker and stole the words right from your parted lips as he kissed you properly. 

You might have floated away on the clouds outside if it wasn’t for his arms holding you down. Oxygen no longer meant anything as you breathed him in instead, your fingers combing into his curls with desperation to keep him close. 

Both of you were reluctant to break away but with screaming lungs you pulled back with a gasp and he dropped his forehead to yours. 

“Wow,” he breathed with a soft chuckle that made you giggle. “Can we do that again?”

You answered him with a kiss as your hands drifted up under his hoodie and over the hard planes of his abs. “Mhmm, yes, please.”

Click here for part four.

Tagging: @yunnie-f1 @neiich @zendayabelova @stillbreathin @dr3lover @writerscurse @christianpulisic10 @alwaysclassyeagle

#lando norris x y/n #lando norris x you #lando norris x reader #lando norris #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic

[thefallennightmare]

Miracle-seven

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x Reader

Warnings/Tropes: forced proximity, slight enemies to lovers, slow burn, smut, angst, fluff, mentions of death, and swearing.

Summary: Reader is the merch girl for Bad Omens. It wasn't what she wanted to do with her life but when her mother got sick with Alzheimer's, reader took a job where she could to help with the costs. She thought it would be a one-time gig but the longer she was on the road with them, the harder she fell for Noah Sebastian; even if he wanted nothing to do with her. She needed a miracle to save her mom and her future.

Author Note: fuck, it's almost one in the morning but here's the next part! I wanted things to be more spicey but I'm so tired so it lacks luster, my apologies.

Tags: @ada-clarence @nonamessblog @thescarlettvvitch @malice-ov-mercy @crimson-calligraphyx @theoneandonlykymberlee @yumikitten @blackveilomens @cherrymedicine13 @thebadchic @notmaddihealy @jay02bo @beaker1636 @jakekiszkasguitarpick @punk-pr1ncessxoxo @er3nslovergirl @iamdesolate @lma1986 @jessitpwk @themodern-daywednesday @writethrough

Bringing the blanket closer to my chin, I wrapped it tighter around me as I dug myself deeper into bed. The morning rays of the sun broke through the windows of the bus showing it was well into the morning. We'd been driving for almost eight hours now, me just waking up a while ago. Last night after leaving the venue, Folio showed me around the bus before letting me get settled. Compared to the crew's bus, the guy's bus was decently bigger with six bunks, a kitchen with living space up front, and a room in the back that they used to their gaming space. I was surprised at how spacious the bunks were but figured they had to be with how tall Jolly and Noah were.

Thinking of Noah, my eyes darted to the bunk directly across from me and saw he was awake browsing his phone, earbuds in both ears. Even though we finally got past what happened that night in Chicago, there still was this weird tension between us and the only reason that could be was because what happened that night at the Airbnb.

I leaned over the edge of my bunk and patted his arm to get his attention.

"Need something?" Noah questioned while taking out an ear bud.

"Do you think we can talk about what happened the other night? At the Airbnb."

This made him drop his phone to his bed and turned on his side to fully face me, one of his arms to burry underneath his pillow.

"I thought we didn't need to talk about it. You said it was a onetime thing," Noah reminded me.

"I know," I sighed. "And I meant it. But I don't want things to get awkward between us because of it."

Noah gave me a warm smile. "It's only awkward if one of us makes it and I don't plan too."

"Me either," I matched his smile.

We watched each other for a few more beats before Jolly popped his head through the door that closed off the bunks to the front of the bus.

"Oh, good. You're awake," he motioned towards Noah. "We've got a problem."

Those words made me sit up in my bunk while Noah stood to his feet, running a hand through his sleep tousled hair to fix it.

"What's up?"

Jolly told him to follow which he did but curiosity also weighed heavily on me so I did as well, seeing that both of the Nick's were awake, sitting on the couches. Noah sat down at the table in the kitchen while I sat across from him.

"Breakfast?" Nick asked while holding up a box of cereal.

"Please," I said with a smile.

With the bowl of cereal in front of me, I listened as Jolly explained what their problem was.

"They canceled the festival tomorrow. I guess Ohio was hit with some nasty storms so they thought better to be safe."

Noah's shoulders fell in disappointment.

"Damn. We're almost there, aren't we?" He asked.

Folio nodded. "The rest of the crew arrived about two hours ago. Matt's trying to figure out what to do."

"Should we head to the next city?" Nick suggested.

"Maybe we should meet up with the others and we can all leave together," Jolly said.

Noah rubbed at the faint stubble that covered his chin. "I feel bad for the fans."

Just then, as I was sitting there quietly eating my cereal, an idea sprouted in my mind but I thought it would be best to keep it to myself. This seemed like a Bad Omens meeting, yet they were willingly talking about any possible plans in front of me.

I took my bowl to the sink in the small kitchen to wash it and once finished; I turned on my heels and grabbed the edge of the counter behind me.

"I may have an idea," I muttered.

Four sets of eyes fell on me and Noah raised a brow at me.

"About?"

I took a deep breath, gaining the courage to tell them about this grand idea.

"So you guys feel terrible about the festival being canceled because you want to play for the fans, right?"

When they nodded, I felt stronger so stood up straighter. "What if you guys do this pop up event?"

"Pop up event?" Jolly repeated.

"Yeah," I nodded this time. "I've seen a few bands do this, and it was really popular with their fans. We can rent out a place to set up a table where fans can come get autographs and set up the merch booth so they can buy merch; that way they can still see you guys. We'll sell a certain amount of tickets for this."

Noah and Jolly shared a look while Folio gave me a huge smile, clearly loving the idea.

"Do you think it's sort of last minute?" Nick asked.

I scoffed lightly. "You guys seem to forget about much your fans love you. If we announce this, I guarantee tickets will sell out in a few hours."

"I like it," Jolly admitted. "But what about the people that already bought tickets to see a concert?"

My bottom lip caught between my teeth as I thought of something else they could do. Just because they couldn't play at the festival didn't mean they couldn't play somewhere else.

"What if you guys play somewhere else?" I asked.

Noah hesitated with apprehension as he leaned his arm over the back of his seat and I did my best not to gawk at the tattoos that rippled against the muscles of his arms. I needed to stay focused so I can prove to them that my crazy, last-minute idea wasn't that; crazy.

"I don't know, Y/N. It might be hard to book something so last minute," Folio spoke next.

My arms crossed over my chest, and I tapped my foot in agitation. "You're supposed to be on my side, Folio."

He held up his hands. "Trust me, I am. I like the idea of the pop up event but the last minute show might be harder to pull off."

"Please," I waved him off. "Someone in Ohio owes me a favor, a huge one at that. Give me some time and I'll get it all handled."

"Who do you know in Ohio?" Nick wondered.

"Some guy," I shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal.

Noah, however, thought it was because a muscle in his jaw ticked as his shoulders went rigid.

"An ex?" He asked through clenched teeth.

"Aw, are you jealous, Noah?" I leaned over the table closer to him. "That's cute, but no. Someone I met while I was in college. I've never had a boyfriend."

"Really?" Noah asked.

I didn't miss the surprise in his voice.

"Yeah. I've had hook ups during college but nothing ever turned serious. None of them were worth to have a future with."

He shifted in his seat and I worried I might have said something wrong but when he pulled me down into the seat next to him, Noah slid over his laptop in front of me.

"You want to prove to us you can do this, better get started," he smirked.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "You can have a little faith in me."

Noah bumped his shoulder with mine and stayed leaning into me. "I have the upmost faith in you, angel. That you won't pull this off."

Now my eyes buldged almost out of my head as a squeak of disbelieve fell from my lips.

"What do I get when I pull this off?" I debated with him.

The rest of the guys looked on amused, waiting to see what Noah would say.

"What do you want?" He shrugged.

I thought about it for a long moment, making a show of tapping my head with a finger, like how Winnie the Pooh did in the movie. Although, I put some thought to it because Noah Sebastian was asking what I wanted.

So many fucking things if they were coming from you.

Instead of something risqué, I chose something tamer and when the thought graced my mind, a large grin pulled at my lips.

"If I'm able to book the pop up and show successfully, I get to design your next tattoo."

Expecting him to say no, Noah simply leaned back into his seat to show his covered arms in tattoos then lifted his legs, not showing much space of skin.

"I have little space left but for you, angel. I'd find even a sliver of skin. You've got yourself a deal."

With that, I cracked my fingers and went to work finding not only a place to host their pop up event but also a concert. They were supposed to be playing in Cleveland so I started looking for smaller halls that could house the pop up event.

While I worked, Jolly went off to fill in Matt about my idea. Both of the Nicks retreated to the back area of the bus to play some kind of video game, and Noah moved from his spot next to me to the couch so he could stretch his long body. We didn't speak, letting the silence fall around us like a blanket, but I felt his gaze on my often. At one point, I looked over the laptop at him and noticed he was watching me with a smile.

"What? Is there something on my face?" I asked, suddenly self-conscious.

"No," he shook his head. "You look beautiful, angel."

I blushed, the warmth vibrating throughout my entire existence.

"Right."

Noah sat up straighter on the couch so he could see me better.

"You don't believe me?" He asked.

I shrugged. "For someone who barley talked to me last tour and when this one started, you're getting pretty cheeky with me."

"You're also not as closed off as you were last time," Noah noted.

"Well, I thought you hated me," I grumbled, eyes scanning the screen in front of me.

Noah came to sit in front of me and shut the laptop so we had to look at each other. There was a dull look of hurt in his brown iris'.

"You thought I hated you?" His voice was quiet, almost broken.

I shrugged one shoulder while pulling at a loose fabric on my sweatpants. "You didn't talk to me much so I thought I'd done something."

"Angel," Noah sighed.

"Don't say it's because of what happened in Chicago," I interrupted. "I felt this way long before then."

He fell back into the bench seat behind him, a low noise crawling its way through his throat, my confession taking him by surprise.

"I never hated you, Y/N. Even what happened after Chicago. And let me set the record straight; I never hated you because of what happened that night. I was upset that you could of seriously been hurt and never realized it."

My eyes cast down to my hands that were now folded together on the table in front of me.

"I know," I whispered.

Noah reached over and linked our hands together. "I'm sorry for the hurtful things I've said and how I've been towards you. Please know I never hated you."

I swallowed thickly at his apology; it was sincere. Probably the first time I'd ever hear something so truthful from Noah. I gave his hand a tight squeeze, letting him know I accepted his apology.

Feeling better about our conversation, Noah put the laptop back in front of me and now watched me from right across of the table. My phone was set on the table next to it and it began flashing with notifications from Only Fans so I quickly flipped it over so Noah didn't notice.

It's been a few days since I posted anything and my subscriber count went up a few but still not enough to be making a lot of money. I knew it was because the things I posted were tame compared to what was already on the sight from others but I wasn't willing to change my rules. This was only a temporary thing so I could pay Lana until I was back home. Then I would deactivate my account.

"Hiding something?" Noah questioned with a knowing smug smile as he peered over the laptop.

"Nope, just stupid emails," I lied and forced my eyes to look back at the screen in front of me.

I had a message up to my old college lab partner, wondering if he still had that hook up with someone from the local mall in Cleveland. There was a decent sized space that was used to be rented out for meetings or parties. It would be perfect for the pop up event.

A notification of a new email popped up on the corner of the screen and seeing who it was from, I clicked on it.

Dear MS. Y/L/N,

I'm glad that you reached out. We heard about the cancelation of the festival because of the weather. We here at House of Blues would love to have Bad Omens play here tomorrow night. Attached is a copy of the contact that can be signed then sent over. I hope you understand that with it being a last-minute booking, extra fee's apply. Please let me know if you'd like to proceed.

Dan Sorenson

House of Blues.

"Ha!" I yelled, turning the screen to face Noah.

His eyes darted back and forth as he read the screen, his face not changing from the smug smile he wore.

"Well, looks like the show is booked but you still have to deal with the pop up event," He reminded me.

I stuck my tongue out at him while turning the laptop back to me. "Yes, I know that."

Noah groaned while griping my chin between his thumb and pointer finger. "If you stick that pretty little tongue out at me one more time, angel, I'm going to bite his so hard it bleeds."

My skin ignited with a blaze so hot it surprised me Noah didn't rear back in hissing pain. There was a slickness between my legs from his promise and I almost did it again so he could act on it. But Folio walked from the back of the bus and with a curious gaze at us, he sat down on the couch in the living area.

"What's going on here?" He asked.

Noah's eyes flashed before he let my face go and went over to sit next to Folio. As their conversation faded to the background of my subconscious, I blinked a few times to center myself and noticed a new message appeared on the screen in front of me.

Y/N! It's been awhile? How're things?

I can definitely book our event space for your friend's band tomorrow. There's a lot of us that are familiar with Bad Omens so we'd be happy to host your pop up event. What time did you need?

By now, Jolly and Nick came to join the others, and I grabbed the laptop to walk over to them, showing the message.

"I'll be damned," Folio whistled low.

"I'm impressed," Jolly said with a chuckle.

Nick smacked Noah against his shoulder. "Looks like I'll be tattooing whatever design she comes up with."

"I guess so," he winked at me. "I'll admit when I'm wrong and I was. Thanks for doing that, Y/N."

I smiled while setting the laptop on the table before falling into the couch between Folio and Jolly. "I've already posted it all to the Bad Omens social media and sent the details over to Matt so he can get his end tied up."

"You should be our social media ambassador," Folio said.

Immediately I shook my head. "No, that seems like a lot of work I'm not qualified for."

Nick snorted. "You booked two huge events on last-minute notice and got it spread like wildfire online. Tickets are already being bought."

I peered over at his phone that he titled towards me and sure enough, ticket sales were already booming for both events. But I still wasn't convinced.

"Don't you guys switch off posting on the Bad Omens social medias?" I asked.

"Yeah but it'll be easier if you took it over. We forget sometimes and it gets messy who was supposed to post something," Folio said.

I chewed on the inside of my cheek, really thinking about his offer. It's not like it was a hard job, it was something I did on my own social media.

"Does it come with a pay raise?"

It was supposed to be a joke, but Noah responded right away.

"Of course. It's a lot more work than being the merch girl, which you won't be anymore. We can find someone to replace you."

This was not something I expected to happen when I woke up this morning, but I wasn't complaining. The pay raise would be significant and maybe I could deactivate my only fans page sooner than expected.

"Okay. I'll do it."

For the next while, the guys told me what my new position would entail and what I was in charge of. While Byran took professional photos and videos of them, I would still take some and post to their tik tok page or Instagram stories. When Bryan finished editing whatever photos he took, he would send them over to me and I would post them. I would also be in charge of dealing with messages that came through any platform.

By the time we ironed everything out, I excuse myself to my bunk, exhaustion overtaking my body. It was well into the afternoon and knowing we would be in Cleveland soon, I desperately wanted to nap before then.

As I lay in my bunk, I ended up staring at my Only Fans page and thought about ways I could revamp it to get a few more subscribers. Even with my new job title and pay, I couldn't give it up yet. Lana's paycheck was due tomorrow and while I had enough for it, it would clear out my bank account.

I pulled tight the curtain to my bunk as best as I could and stripped out of my shirt, pants, and bra. I wouldn't be able to record a video right now so a picture was the best option. Instead of covering my breasts, I kept them on display as I held up my phone, snapping a few different angles making sure my face was covered. Once satisfied with how I looked, I got dressed again and uploaded a few of the pictures to my page.

By the time that was finished, my eyes were heavy with slumber so I curled into the corner of the bunk, letting sleep encase around me. I was so deep in sleep that I barely heard Noah's phone go off and a loud groan of pleasure echoed from his bunk.

"You've got to be kidding me, angel. Right next to me."

"I can't believe how well everything turned out," I smiled as I walked alongside Folio in the mall.

The pop up event ended a few minutes ago and as mentioned, everything went smoothly. Fans were ecstatic to meet the guys and get their autographs. Merch sold like crazy and thankfully, Matt and Davis could cover my old job until they could find a replacement. Matt thought my new job was a great idea, mentioning that I was always made for more than just selling merch.

"You did that," Folio bumped his shoulder into mine, a proud smile on his face.

Jolly and Nick were in front of our group, leading us to a restaurant so we could get something to eat before the show tonight. Another event I threw together. To say I was proud of myself was an understatement. I wanted to so badly call my mom to tell her but knew that she would only respond with three words.

"Who are you?"

I hadn't heard from either my mom or Lana today which made me worry because with how the last phone call conversation went, I could only think of the worst.

Noah made a noise of agreement in the back of his throat and I looked up to him as he walked next to me. From the second he stepped off looking like that, I was so wound up and turned on that I kept squeezing my aching core between my legs to curb that itch. Noah had the top half of his hair up in a bun and wore a baggy shirt with an anime logo and name across it and a pair of black shorts.

I wanted to lick every inch of muscles on his thighs; he looked that delicious.

But something was different with him today. Noah made sure that he never strayed far from me and during the event, his eyes were almost always on me. He refused to let me out of his sight. The brown of his eyes drank in every inch of me as well and if I didn't find a corner to rub one out, I would explode.

We found a restaurant inside the mall and all slide into a corner booth at the back of the large room. With how we sat, Noah and I were seated alone on one side, kind of away from Jolly, Nick, and Folio. The three of them chatted about what they were going to get and as I was about to ask Noah what he wanted, I felt his hand grasp the inside of my thigh and I sucked in a breath.

"Angel," he breathed in my ear.

I hummed when his fingers slowly moved higher between my legs. Our actions were underneath the table so no one could see.

"I can't stop thinking about your face when you cum," he admitted. "Can you do that for me again, please?"

I shouldn't do this. It was only supposed to be a onetime thing. But I was also so fucking horny, I needed this so bad. And he asked nicely.

My eyes fluttered shut when his finger slipped between the waistband of my leggings and without thinking, I spread my legs wider for him. If he didn't understand that, I gave a firm nod while keeping up the facade of looking over the menu.

Noah did the same, his eyes scanning his menu all while his finger slipped between my panties and pussy.

I bit down hard on my lip to keep the moan quiet when his finger brushed along my folds, knowing he felt how wet I'd been all day. He turned his face slightly towards me, his eyes sparkling with arousal.

"So wet already," he mouthed.

Not trusting myself to be quiet, I nodded as his finger pushed inside of me, pumping slow at first to work me open. Then another finger joined, and I nearly dropped my head on the table. Noah's fingers were long where they could reach that spot with ease.

Noah leaned closer to me making it look like he was talking about something so normal. "You're so tight, angel. Are you going to cum already?"

"Yes," I whined.

"Have you been wet all day for me?"

Always.

I nodded which made Noah smirk. "Be a good girl and don't make a noise. I can't have the guys knowing what I'm doing to you underneath the table."

Fuck; Noah Sebastian was going to kill me.

As he talked to Folio, giving nothing away, his fingers worked inside of me fast and when his thumb pressed against my clit, I nearly came with a scream. My hips bucked up into his hand and I ended up setting the menu up to it could cover my face as my lips fell open in a silent moan. The orgasm was so close, a bright white light brushing over my vision and heat spread at the base of my spine to my scalp. I shook in Noah's grasp as my pussy walls clenched around his fingers.

"Noah," I breathed when the orgasm washed over me in a tidal wave.

I shamelessly dry humped his hand to ride over the last little of the aftershocks and almost whined when Noah turned to look at me. He pulled out his fingers, the sudden loss of warmth making me go slack against the booth, and brought them to his mouth. I watched in my post orgasmic haze as he licked them clean, his eyes blown wide with blackness of his own desires.

"What do you guys think of this place? We tried it back in Iowa, figured it was a good choice," Nick said.

The three of them were still oblivious to what happened.

"Best meal I've ever fucking had," Noah hummed, my arousal glistening his lips.

#noah sebastian #noah sebastian and reader #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian reader insert #noah sebastian smut #forced proximity #enemies to lovers #slow burn

[oopsiedaisiesbaby]

This is my contribution to the @harringrove-relay-race ✨ Thank you @chrisbitchtree for passing the baton ❤️

Dangerous Girl

Bull Rider Billy & Buckle Bunny Steve (CW: feminization, barebacking)

Also on AO3

The buzzer sounded and Steve blinked for the first time in a little over eight seconds.

Just like every other time, it had been the longest eight seconds of Steve’s life.

He watched as Billy seemed to effortlessly jump off of the wildly bucking bull before running a few yards to safety. Steve felt his entire body unclench, only becoming aware that he’d tensed every muscle as they released, achingly slow.

Fiery blue eyes caught Steve’s and he felt himself freeze again. Pinned by the heavy gaze that was interrupted only by the guard of a helmet.

Billy should’ve looked ridiculous as he took off the helmet, shaking out the blonde curls of his mullet and grinning wickedly. Except he really didn’t and Steve’s heart raced as Billy licked his lips, eyes still locked on Steve, causing all of the buckle bunnies around him to titter excitedly.

They all thought Billy was eyeing them. That they’d be the lucky one to ensnare The Billy Hargrove.

Steve knew better though.

Knew that no matter how hard he tried to fight it, that’d he’d be the one warming the bed in Billy’s travel trailer yet again. It happened every time Billy came back to Texas.

Steve would be drawn to whatever rodeo circuit Billy was currently dominating. Would hang on Billy’s fence just like those desperate buckle bunnies. He’d then make his way to the local bar and bend over the pool table to flirt shamelessly with Eddie or Argyle or whichever other bull rider was willing to put themselves into the line of fire that night. Eventually Billy would have enough and drag Steve out and fuck him six ways to Sunday.

He didn’t know why he bothered trying to convince himself that it wouldn’t happen.

It’d been happening since they were teenagers and Billy was just touring the local circuit. It didn’t matter how terribly he’d broken Steve’s heart when he’d signed up for a PBR membership at 18 and taken off to tour the entire continent, leaving Steve behind in their small, backwoods, Texan town.

The moment Billy had been back in Texas, Steve had dragged Jason and Robin to an event three hours away in Dallas just to let Billy defile him in a bar bathroom because they couldn’t make it out of the bar. Jason and Robin had not been amused on the drive home the following day.

He’d seen how they’d eyed Eddie and Heather though. They didn’t have much room to talk.

He drove the two and half hours to Houston a few days later by himself, just to do it all over again. He followed Billy to every single Texas show, turning around and heading back home just to wait another year then rinse and repeat for the last four years.

Finally, after what felt like ages, Billy broke eye contact and shuffled out of the arena. The spell broken, Steve removed himself from the fence and started trudging out towards his truck to drive himself to the local bar.

He was busy watching the way his boots kicked up dirt with each step which is why he let loose a scream when he suddenly found himself being yanked backwards and slammed up against a travel trailer. Steve’s scream was muffled by plush lips pressing against his, stubble scraping the sensitive skin of his face as fingers tangled in his hair.

Steve melted into the kiss, the familiar smell of Billy’s sweat and cologne hitting his nose just as his tongue forced its way into Steve’s mouth. Steve whined into the kiss as a strong hand grabbed his thigh and hiked it up so that their hips could press together a little tighter.

Hands lifting to grip the leather vest tightly, Steve finally found enough will power to push Billy back just enough to get some air.

“What the fuck, Billy?” Steve gasped, head thunking back against the metal of the trailer.

He was saved from the pain of collision by Billy’s hand cradling the back of his head.

“Couldn’t wait for all the bull shit at the bar,” Billy admitted, panting. “The way you were hanging on my fence with your fucking tits out almost got me bucked two seconds in.”

Steve glanced down at his chest where he’d left his pearl snap button up undone obscenely low. It was the same amount of buttons Billy usually had undone when he wasn’t buttoned up for riding. It was only fair.

“I don’t hang on your fence,” Steve muttered, rolling his hips and grinning when Billy cursed and stopped cupping the back of Steve’s head to plant it against the trailer.

“Don’t lie to yourself, princess,” Billy hissed, rocking against Steve in a dirty grind. “My own personal buckle bunny, getting wet just from watching me ride.”

“Don’t lie to yourself, Billy,” Steve scoffed, eyes fluttering closed as they continued to rut against each other slow and filthy. “You’ve got plenty of bunnies to choose from.”

He’d meant it as a jab at Billy but Steve felt pain lance through his chest at his own words.

“Don’t care about any of them,” Billy grunted, burying his face in Steve’s neck and mouthing at the sensitive skin. “You’re the only bunny I care about hanging on my fence.”

“Bullshit,” Steve whimpered as Billy bit down.

“Bull true,” Billy mumbled, dropping his hand from the trailer and grabbing Steve’s other thigh.

Steve jumped so that Billy was supporting all of his weight and his already skin tight wranglers became suffocating. Billy gave Steve’s neck one last bruising suck before lifting his face to kiss him senseless again.

Letting his hands wander to plant against Billy’s drenched button down, Steve felt the strong muscles shifting under the fabric and sighed into the kiss. Fuck, he’d missed Billy. Only getting to see him a few times a year wasn’t enough and Steve yearned for more.

“It’s just you, Steve,” Billy breathed as he pulled away, pushing his sweaty forehead against Steve’s. “You know that, right?”

Steve hoped against all hope that it was true.

It’d been just Billy for him since he was 14 and Steve’s family moved to the sad little town of Hawkins, Texas.

“Then take me to bed and prove it to me, cowboy,” Steve dared, smiling when Billy’s grin turned sharp.

Billy pulled them away from the trailer and started marching along the length of it until they were inside. The smell of horse, cologne, and something quintessentially Billy that had Steve clenching in anticipation.

When Billy reached the steps to his bed, he set Steve down letting him climb up the short ladder and slapping his ass for good measure. Steve turned around to glare and was met with Billy’s self-satisfied grin.

“You knew what you were doing when you put on those jeans, princess,” Billy said like that explained everything.

It did.

Steve sat on the edge of the bed, leaning back on his elbows as he watched Billy climb up onto the raised area that constituted the trailer’s bedroom. Billy paused at the edge of the bed, kneeling between Steve’s knees

“You wet for me, princess?” Billy asked, sliding his palms up Steve’s denim clad thighs, eyes burning as he looked up at Steve.

Nodding, Steve bit his lip as he considered telling Billy just how wet he actually was. He wanted it to be a surprise though.

Billy gently removed Steve’s boots with an ease that never ceased to amaze Steve. He felt like he was going to war every time he tried to take them off himself.

He slowly moved on to Steve’s belt before working on his button and fly. Billy was moving so slow it was painful and Steve’s dick twitched as the pressure of his tight jeans released. With a smirk, Billy teasingly pulled down Steve’s jeans and briefs before settling back between his thighs.

His broad shoulders forced Steve’s thighs apart far enough to make his hips twinge. Steve held his breath in anticipation as Billy kissed his way up the inside of one of his thighs before parting Steve’s cheeks with his thumbs and choking.

Steve bit his lip against the smile fighting its way across his face as he felt Billy’s breath stutter against his dick.

“Fuck me,” Billy breathed reverantly as he dipped a thumb inside of Steve’s already lubed and stretched hole.

Steve groaned at the sensation of finally being filled, back arching against the bed.

“Watching me ride really got you fucking soaked, huh?” Billy asked, voice thick and gruff as he dipped a couple of fingers inside of Steve.

Gasping and falling back against the bed, Steve whined as Billy stroked his prostate with gentle pulses of his fingertips.

“Need you in me,” Steve pleaded, pitchy and whiny in the worst way as he squirmed. “Been thinking about it all day, waiting for your ride.”

“I can’t -“ Billy cut himself off as he shifted around, yanking his boots and clothes off in a flurry that contradicted his slow, teasing approach from moments before. “I can’t do foreplay right now, princess.”

Billy flushed at the admittance, tossing his last piece of clothing to the floor and grabbing Steve’s thighs. He hauled Steve up the bed and situated himself so that he was hovering over him, lining up and looking at him in askance.

“Don’t need it,” Steve whispered, grabbing Billy’s pendant where it was dangling in his face. “Need you in me right now.”

Nodding, Billy lined up and pushed in tenderly. His face was red, veins popping as he tried to hold himself back.

Steve didn’t want him to hold back. It’d been months. Steve wanted the raw, desperate, reconciliation sex they always had. The kind that made his toes curl.

“Give it to me, cowboy,” Steve demanded, tangling his free hand in Billy’s curls.

“Christ, princess,” Billy moaned, his eyes fluttering closed as he allowed himself to fuck into Steve fully. “You got me so fucking pussy whipped.”

It was a gross statement, practically a line if he really thought about it. The way Billy had said it, like a confession had Steve feeling split open and unmoored.

“Yeah?” Steve checked, running his fingers through Billy’s curls.

“Yeah,” Billy croaked, eyes opening to gaze down at Steve.

Steve nodded to show he was ready and wailed as Billy started to fuck into him without abandon. He had to drop his grip on Billy’s necklace for fear of ripping it from his neck with how forceful his thrusts were.

It was the same, toe-curling, eye rolling rhythm they always had but something was missing and Steve couldn’t put his finger on it.

He didn’t have long to consider it as Billy angled his hips down so that he was brushing roughly against Steve’s prostate with each quick thrust. Steve looked up to gauge how close his head was to hitting the wall when he saw it.

“No hat?” Steve gasped, his voice nearly breaking, making Billy freeze as he gaped down at Steve.

It was silly, but Billy always wore his hat when they met up at the bars afterwards and Steve was feeling a little off kilter due to its absence. Billy’s surprised expression slowly melted into a lascivious smirk.

“Is that what does it for you?” Billy asked as he grabbed the black Stetson off its hook above the head of the bed.

He plopped it on top of his dirty, sweaty curls before quirking a teasing eyebrow at Steve.

“Shut up and fuck me, cowboy,” Steve mumbled, face flushing as he squeezed Billy’s hips with his thighs.

“As you wish, princess,” Billy agreed, before fucking into Steve so hard that he jolted up the bed.

Steve moaned, hand flying up to brace against the wall so that his head didn’t slam into it. He grinned up at Billy, hiking his legs higher on his waist to allow Billy to deepen the angle.

It was like a lightning storm every time they came together and Steve was helpless but to give in. It only got more overwhelming as Billy started running his mouth.

“We’re gonna go the bar after this,” Billy promised, breathless with exertion as he continued to fuck into Steve at a ridiculous pace.

“My cum’s gonna be dripping from your pussy when you bend over the pool table like a slut.”

Steve whimpered as he imagined it. Feeling Billy’s cum slide out of him as they hung out with their friends.

“Everyone always wants a piece of you,” Billy grunted, hands twisting in the sheets on either side of Steve’s head. “But everyone will know you’re my bunny.”

The crackling electricity of arousal hummed insistently in Steve’s belly.

“How?” Steve asked through stuttering breaths as Billy’s hips snapped into his at an unparalleled pace.

“Gonna put my necklace on you,” Billy panted, mouth dropping wide and tongue wetting his bottom lip as he struggled to keep his insane rhythm while coming down from the adrenaline rush.

Steve’s hand flew back up to the necklace in question, tightening up reflexively around Billy.

“Shit,” Billy choked out, eyes screwing shut as he trembled above Steve. “Pussy’s so fucking tight.”

“Yeah?” Steve asked, wrapping a hand around himself, orgasm buzzing close at seeing just how overwhelmed Billy was.

“Yeah,” Billy breathed, letting his eyes open so he could look at Steve again. “You’re so fucking pretty.”

“Show me how pretty I am,” Steve demanded softly, muscles tensing as his fingers and toes tingled. “Cum in my pussy.”

“Gonna fill you up,” Billy promised gruffly, rhythm growing sloppy. “Make you mine.”

Whimpering, Steve started stroking himself faster as he practically vibrated out of his skin.

“Come on, cowboy,” Steve urged, screwing up purposefully tight. “Show me who I belong to.”

“Belong to me,” Billy groaned, fucking into Steve impossibly harder, hand flying up to cradle Steve’s head so he didn’t hit it against the wall. “My princess.”

“Yes,” Steve agreed, vision blurring around the edges as his toes curled against Billy’s back, shocks of arousal sparking through his veins dangerously.

“Only one who gets to fuck this pussy,” Billy grunted, trembling above Steve as his eyes widened and his breath started to stutter.

“Only one,” Steve promised, voice going high as Billy fucked into him just right. “Give it to me.”

“Oh fuck,” Billy groaned before his breath caught.

Steve watched his muscles strain as Billy shook above him and Steve felt a shock of warmth spill inside of him.

Moaning loud and obscene, Steve gave in to the lightning bolting up his spine and through his limbs as he came all over his belly in strong bursts. The sensation of Billy’s thrusts getting sloppier and wetter had him clenching reflexively causing them both to whine.

Billy fucked him through the aftershocks of their orgasms as Steve’s muscles went limp and Billy’s breathing caught up. He slowed his thrusts to gentle rocks and Steve released Billy’s pendant and grabbed him by the hair and pulled him into a kiss.

Obliging easily, Billy slipped his tongue past Steve’s lips and let himself explore as he trailed callus rough fingertips up and down Steve’s thigh. Steve let himself relax into it fully, sinking against the mattress.

He hummed as Billy pulled back just enough to look at Steve’s face. His fiery gaze burned through Steve despite how gentle it was. Steve would never get enough of it.

Steve whined softly as Billy pulled away further, but settled as Billy fiddled with his necklace. Steve lifted his neck so that Billy could close the clasp and fell back against the bed once it was in place against his chest.

Billy stroked an exploratory finger over the pendant where it rested against Steve’s chest before pressing his weight down on Steve once again.

“Join me on the circuit,” Billy whispered, tilting Steve’s face so that he was staring directly into Billy’s fiery blue eyes.

“Billy,” Steve protested, eyes fluttering closed as he fought the itch in his nose that signaled oncoming tears.

They went over this every time. It broke Steve’s heart more and more each time. He didn’t know how Billy could stand it.

“Not now,” Billy amended, nudging their noses together. “In a couple of months when you graduate.”

Steve sighed and let his eyes flutter close. He’d be officially done with college in just a few short months. He’d be expected to start working for his father in just a few short months so he could take over the company eventually.

Could Steve survive eight or more years of only seeing Billy for a handful of days each year?

He opened his eyes to stare up into Billy’s, the absolute certainty and love reflected back at him making the decision for him.

“Okay,” Steve relented, grinning softly at the pure, unadulterated joy that spread across Billy’s face.

Billy whooped, grabbing Steve’s waist and rolling them over so that Steve was straddling his waist. Billy took his hat off, plopping it on Steve’s head and smiling so wide it had to have hurt his cheeks.

“The boys are gonna be so jealous when they find out I locked down the prettiest buckle bunny on the circuit,” Billy gloated, eyes glimmering with unbridled glee.

“I don’t think you’re allowed to call me a buckle bunny if we’re actually together,” Steve scoffed, smacking Billy’s shoulder.

“I can if you keep hanging off my fence, looking the way you do, watching me win all those buckles,” Billy teased, biting his tongue when Steve pinched his side.

Rolling his eyes, Steve readjusted the Stetson on his head and Billy’s gaze went molten.

“Looks good on you, princess,” Billy whispered, callused hands running up Steve’s thighs.

“Yeah?” Steve asked, rolling his hips back against Billy’s twitching dick.

“Mmhmm,” Billy hummed, grabbing Steve’s hips and holding him in place as he grinded up against his ass. “Think you should wear it while you ride me.���

Steve gasped as Billy’s cock settled between his cheeks, their rhythm growing harder and more frenzied.

“Think I’ll last all eight seconds?” Steve teased, whining as the head of Billy’s dick caught on his rim.

“Only one way to find out,” Billy challenged, guiding himself back into Steve and sliding home.

Steve made it significantly longer than eight seconds and left Billy wheezing about how Steve should upgrade from being a buckle bunny to a bull rider.

Please look forward to the lovely, wonderful, and amazing work from the next contributor, @imsodishy.

#harringrove #billy x steve #billy hargrove #steve harrington #harringrove fic #oopsiewrites #harringrove fanfiction #bull rider Billy #buckle bunny Steve #cowboy Billy #harringrovefic #harringrove relay race #harringrove fanfic #stranger things

[delta-pavonis]

Ficlet: O that I were a glove upon that hand

Dreamling || Human AU || Rated E || ~1100 words

(Because Tom doing Romeo at VogueWorld 2023 gave me some feelings and Ferdie is often in his Venice Preserv'd look in my head... although with longer hair.)

This has, perhaps, gone too far.

Let's back up.

Everyone in the department, most people on campus, and – because of a viral video of him going off at the director during a dress rehearsal of a Shakespeare in the Park performance of A Midsummer Night’s Dream – a damned large swath of London all know of Dr. Robert Gadling's particular and peculiar hate of the Bard. It is what makes this whole thing incredibly frustrating.

Gifts. Hob has been getting gifts. Left for him in conspicuous places, each more finely crafted and expensive than the last. And each with a goddamned Shakespearean love sonnet on it.

If it wasn't for the nature of the gifts themselves Hob would be absolutely certain someone was taking the piss. (Jo, that would probably be Jo.)

But each gift is so bloody thoughtful; carefully chosen with an uncannily tuned awareness to Hob’s personal needs and tastes. This person either really cares for him or… well, he would think the person a possible stalker except that everything they have done relates to something that has happened in public, with full easy access for many people to make a judgment that Hob likes or needs something. 

There have been six of them now. And aside from the fact that Hob’s living room wall now looks like all those movies where the authorities are frantically tracking a serial killer, complete with a map of London and lots of red sharpie, he is rather… flattered? 

It has been a long time since… well. The anniversary of Eleanor's death will be rounding on eight years this winter. 

Hob thinks he has worked out a pattern to when he gets the gifts, is like 80% confident he can guess when they have gotten placed in each location, from his university office, to the men’s dressing room at the White Horse Community Theater, to his usual table at the New Inn. Add to that his approximately 60% confidence in the reasoning behind the temporal spacing of the gifts, and he is ready to roll the dice.

He locks up his office a tick early, as usual on Thursdays, and makes all appearances to head home before going to that evening’s rehearsal. But as soon as he gets home he is donning a new hoodie no one has seen him wear before, slinking back out the garden door, over the hedge, and jogging to the theater. Hob closes himself into the darkness of the men’s dressing room a solid two hours before anyone is scheduled to be anywhere near the place. 

And he waits. 

Hob is good at waiting.

He is crouched where he will be behind the door when it opens, but this puts him immediately next to some of the accessories storage for costuming for this show. And oh, they have gotten in a new pair of leather gloves for him.

Just because he is good at waiting doesn’t mean that he never gets bored. 

Hob slips on the new gloves and works his hands in them. These will be perfect to swordfight in, fantastic.

And then the door creaks open. 

He freezes and watches, only the sliver of light coming from the hallway to help him. A masculine figure, slim, in a peacoat, walks silent as a hunting cat to the second chair from the far wall, just where Hob usually gets ready. 

A hand runs softly across the back of the chair once before a small box is left on the tabletop. Then as quietly as they came in, the person turns to leave. 

Just before they get to the open door Hob pounces.

There is a shout and a scuffle, the two men – for it is another man, of that Hob has no doubt – grappling as one tries to escape and the other hold on.

Which is how Hob ends up with his black leather-gloved hands wrapped around the pale swan neck of his longest friend. 

They haven’t seen each other in… fuck, it feels like more than a hundred years. And they had not parted on good terms. 

“Christ, Dream?” Hob pants out the nickname but does not let go. 

Diamond-sharp blue eyes that could belong only to one person stare at him from beneath heavy lids. He parts his lips to speak, but at the same time Hob shifts the grip of his hands and any words Dream was going to say get lost in a breathtakingly thready moan. 

Barely a heartbeat later they meet in the middle, Hob’s hands going to the back of Dream’s head and Dream’s arms going around his shoulders and their mouths fit together like goddamned puzzle pieces and Hob knew, he fucking knew, it would be like this. 

They knock over no less than two chairs, collapse against a wall for a minute, then one of them pushes off and they are almost going ass over tea kettle onto the couch. A bit of quick footwork on Hob’s part and they are on the opposite side of the room.

By the time Hob has Dream sitting on the vanity they have gotten their shirts off and his bare back slams into the mirror’s surface, sliding and squeaking with the thin sheen of sweat. He gets his hands under Dream’s thighs, hikes him up to grind their clothed erections together, and once Dream has his legs wrapped around Hob’s hips he brings one hand to his mouth to pull off the gloves.

An unsteady hand grabs his wrist. “Leave them on.” Dream’s voice is even lower than Hob remembers it. 

There is fumbling to get flies open and then Hob has his hand wrapped around both their cocks and is pumping. Dream’s fingers are now tugging on Hob’s hair, his body arching prettily as Hob gets his lips and tongue onto that beautiful neck.

Hob is about to be embarrassed by how quickly he is nearing completion when Dream pulls him into a kiss, moaning into his mouth as he shudders through his orgasm. 

“Come with me, Hob,” is whispered against his lips and Hob is absolutely lost to it, shouting into Dream’s collarbone.

They are still panting, large heaving breaths, when Dream tugs Hob’s hand up from where it is wrapped around their spent pricks so that he can lick the leather clean. Hob watches that pink tongue dance between his fingers and his cock almost twitches in interest. He huffs a laugh and takes Dream’s chin in his grip, pulls their mouths back together so that he can speak against them. 

“Hello, Stranger.”

#Dreamling #Pavonis writes

[greensagephase]

Nonviolent Communication - Part Eight

Miguel O'Hara x SpideyFemReader

Summary: Your spider senses go off in the middle of the night, and you can't figure out why. Miguel goes out on a mission alone.

Word Count: 14,258 (I think I can safely say this will be the last time it ever gets to this. I thought about splitting this part but didn't want to leave you guys on a cliffhanger.)

Warnings: Some violence; mention of blood; explosions; angst; death

Music inspo while writing (in order):

"Sleepwalk" - Santo & Johnny (instrumental)

"Les" - Childish Gambino (instrumental)

"Adrian" - Bill Conti (instrumental) (I watched some of the "Rocky" movies and thought this song was so beautiful and tender)

"Amor Eterno" (instrumental) (iykyk, and I'm sorry if you do)

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine |

***Beautiful fanart for Nonviolent Communication has been created by lovely artists and you can find it all linked in my masterlist under fanart. Please go and show some love to the artists!! Their art is BEAUTIFUL!! ❤️***

Part Eight

“The tension in the room right now is palpable,” Pav mutters as you and him stand side by side in Peter and Mary Jane’s living room.

“My bet is on Miles,” you reply quietly.

“Hm, I think Noir has this one,” he replies as the two of you look over at Miles and Noir.

“Miles has this in the bag,” Hobie murmurs behind you and Pav, making both of you turn around to look at him.

The three of you watch behind a couch as Miles and Noir, who are sitting on the floor around the living room’s console table, eye each other as they play UNO. The group started out with them, Hobie, Gwen, Pav, and you while Peter, Mary Jane, Penny, Margo, and Peter Porker watched. You were unfortunately the third one out followed by Hobie, leaving Noir and Miles as the two final players.

The others are watching from the couch, trying to hold their giggles. It’s Friday night, which means you and the rest of the group came over for dinner at Peter and Mary Jane’s universe. It’s a weekly dinner and one you’ve learned to love. It gives you something to look forward to on the weekend because it means you and your friends can relax and engage outside of work.

Peter and Mary Jane cook but the rest of you bring something over, which means that there’s usually a large dinner. Dinner always takes about an hour or so since you all catch up on what’s happening in your lives, which means that each week you and the other adults get to hear the younger people talk about school and some new drama. Of course, there’s also some talk about missions and anomalies considering most of you are spider-people. Then, after helping Peter and Mary Jane clean up, you all gather in the living room to play games.

Ten minutes later, Miles wins the game and Noir complains about the cards’ colors. After a good laugh, you all have a slice of cake, which you baked yourself, before everyone starts heading out. You say your goodbyes and thank Peter and Mary Jane for dinner before you head back to your universe. You change into your pajamas almost immediately, but you don’t head to bed just yet.

Instead, you grab a book from your bookshelf and take a seat on your couch. It’s ten p.m. on a rainy Friday night. You look around your apartment as you snuggle onto the couch with a blanket thrown over your legs. You open the book but you look up, your eyes taking in your small apartment.

It's officially four years since Peter’s death. His death anniversary was a couple of days ago and of course, there were some tears but for the most part, you handled it well. You visited him and spent some time at the cemetery. You went through some photo albums, taking a walk down memory lane.

Four years.

Where did the time go? You sigh as you look around your apartment. Time has gone by, but it doesn’t seem like it did in your apartment. It still looks the same as it did back when Peter was alive. It’s a personal choice. You wanted to keep everything the same. So, you have the same wall decorations the two of you hung together. The furniture is unchanged and it all remains in the original places you and Peter chose back in the day.

As you hear the soft pit pat of rain on your windows, you feel the urge to change some things around. Or maybe add new things.

You nod to yourself, thinking of what you’d like to do but decide to leave that for another day. It’s already a good sign you’re thinking of redecorating a little bit. You turn back to the book and begin to read, hoping that the reading and calm rain will lure you to sleep, which won’t be hard as you’re already feeling exhausted from the missions you were a part of today plus the patrolling of your city.

Soon enough, you notice your eyes begin to skip lines and you’re having to find your place multiple times. You decide to call it a night when you see it’s midnight. You do your night routine before you slide into bed, drifting off without any trouble.

Miguel stares at one of his many monitors, standing on his platform. His eyes scan the information before him despite it being two in the morning. He scrolls a bit to see more information. It’s all the data that was collected the previous day on anomaly matter from multiple universes. Of course, Lyla reads the information and always lets him know when there’s something worth discussing but Miguel often prefers to go in and check himself. As he finishes reading the data from a specific section, he stretches his back to relieve some of the tension. He hears his back pop, and he sighs in relief before he returns to reading.

Miguel has been sleeping once a week at his penthouse for multiple weeks now but tonight is not one of those nights. Tonight, he’ll stay here in his empty lab like most nights. Even if he wanted to go home, he can’t. He feels restless. He notices the time on his monitors, of course. He finds himself wishing it was day already and he doesn’t know why. He sighs to himself, closing his eyes for a few seconds trying to regain his focus, so he can concentrate on the data, but he cannot. His fingers move on their own and soon, he’s looking at a video of himself and Gabriella, when he gifted her a soccer ball. He stares at the video fondly, remembering her happiness when she saw the gift. He closes it before he gets off his platform with another sigh and begins to walk out of his lab.

He exits his lab into one of the many hallways of HQ, deciding to take a walk to clear his mind. Miguel doesn’t really pay attention to where he’s going. He’s just walking. He does this sometimes when his brain needs a moment during the long nights. He walks the empty hallways and cafeteria, eyes scanning the city from behind the large windows. He cannot make much of it due to the rain falling against the glass, which has created a blurry effect. Still, Miguel can see the faint lights of flying cars and other buildings’ lights in the distance.

He walks and walks. It’s early Saturday morning and here he is, walking through an empty HQ. He eventually returns to his lab. His mind feels more at ease but there’s still something that gnaws at him. He resumes his work at his platform, scanning his monitors. Everything looks fine. He sighs again and begins to read the data, but that feeling is still there. It’s like Miguel knows that at any moment, Lyla will appear and tell him that something’s wrong.

He moves the screen closer, willing himself to concentrate. To ignore the feeling, but five minutes later, one of his screens flashes red and Lyla appears.

“Miguel – two anomalies have been detected. Earth-42. They just entered the universe.”

And there it is. Miguel’s mask immediately covers his face as he leaps off his platform.

“Two anomalies… Who are they? Are they in the system?” Miguel asks as he starts clicking on his gizmo, preparing to open a portal to travel.

“One of them is a Green Goblin version. The other one is not in our system. First time,” Lyla reports.

Miguel nods, wasting no time once the portal opens. He steps out onto a rooftop on Earth-42, the same one that was cleaned up by Miles and his variant from this Earth over a year ago when he ended up sent here by the Go Home Machine. As Miguel steps out onto a rooftop, he’s unable to stop himself from briefly scanning the city. What a difference. The city is well lit, calm, and there’s still a buzz of people despite the time and rain but Miguel quickly focuses on the task at hand, putting his thoughts behind.

He looks around the area, trying to catch sight of the anomalies. He spots the first one, an unknown anomaly running in circles on the street below. There’s no sight of the Green Goblin, however, so he decides to catch this strange anomaly first and then pursue the Green Goblin.

As he heads straight for the anomaly, Miguel’s eyes scan it, trying to get an idea of how dangerous it might be. The body is a white cybernetic one. The head, which is a male human head, is inside a container filled with liquid. Glass makes up the front portion of the container, making it possible for the anomaly to see and a few hoses run through the anomaly’s body, leading Miguel to make the educated guess it’s the way it sustains itself. He also notices that this anomaly only has one hand, while the other arm has a clamp at the end.

Just before Miguel lands on the ground, he prepares a trapper-keeper, ready to trap the anomaly to transport it to HQ. The anomaly, however, begins running away from him as soon as it spots him.

“Running already?” he mutters, as he starts chasing it. “Lyla, keep me updated on the Green Goblin, you know how they get with their little explosions.”

“The Green Goblin has moved further away,” Lyla answers, making Miguel groan. “Maybe you should call for backup.”

“No, I got this. Just keep me updated on the Goblin’s movements.”

“Whatever you say, boss.”

Lyla disappears, leaving Miguel to do his job. He runs before he leaps into the air, reaching an incredible height as he heads straight for the anomaly. The anomaly somehow senses his attack as it turns around and meets Miguel with its clamp, clawing at him to prevent any blows. The anomaly’s moves don’t deter Miguel though as he takes hold of the clamp before he pushes the man to the ground.

The anomaly uses his one hand to land a punch on Miguel’s thigh before he swipes one of his long cybernetic legs around Miguel’s lower body, knocking him to the ground. The anomaly runs off to a building, hoisting himself up by perforating the walls with the clamp.

Miguel quickly gets up, chasing after it. He shoots his web, wrapping it around the anomaly’s body and pulling but the anomaly puts up a good fight and ends up sniping the web with the clamp once it reaches the rooftop. Miguel spends ten minutes doing this: almost trapping the anomaly before it gets away.

“The Green Goblin is moving further away but there is no trouble detected. It’s like – it’s just waiting,” Lyla reports, sounding confused with the behavior of the Green Goblin.

“Waiting for what?” Miguel asks, in frustration as the anomaly keeps leaping off buildings.

“I don’t know.”

Miguel scowls, done with this already. In a rage of frustration, he shoots his webs and catches the anomaly in midair before pulling it towards him. Miguel is quick to jump, meeting the anomaly halfway before he delivers a blow to the head. It sends the anomaly crashing on a rooftop with a loud thud.

“You little-” the man says as he starts standing up, but he doesn’t have the opportunity to finish his sentence as Miguel lands on the rooftop and captures it with the trapper-keeper.

“Finally,” Miguel mutters, as he walks over to inspect it but before he even reaches it, he receives a heavy blow to his head, caught by surprise. “Green Goblin,” Miguel says angrily as he turns around.

“Hello, Spider-Man,” the Green Goblin greets him as he hovers in the air with his glider. “You look very different from my own Spider-Man.”

“That’s because you’re not in your universe,” Miguel answers annoyed as he lunges himself at the Goblin.

He knocks the Goblin off the glider, leading to the two of them landing on the rooftop before they begin hand to hand combat. The two men land blows on each other as the captured anomaly tries to break out of the trapper-keeper to no avail. Miguel notices this and it’s at this moment of distraction that the Goblin seizes his opportunity. He pulls out the Goblin trident and aims at Miguel’s hand, hitting his gizmo in the process.

Miguel immediately turns to the Goblin, retrieving his hand. He takes a quick glance at the gizmo before scowling at the Goblin, who’s about to take another swing at Miguel.  Miguel blocks it this time and throws a punch at him, sending him flying. The Goblin lands on the floor, quickly getting up on his feet and like every other Green Goblin in the multiverse, the cunning man pauses for a second, tilting his head as he stares at Miguel with interest. His eyes flicker to the strange device on this Spider-Man’s wrist. He grins behind his green mask before he dashes at Miguel, trident in hand.

Miguel and the Green Goblin continue to fight. Miguel successfully dodges the trident several times, but the Green Goblin only seems to be fueled by this. He swipes at Miguel with the trident, finally slicing his skin under the suit. Miguel winces, pressing his hand to his body briefly, a moment the Green Goblin takes to hit the gizmo again.

“I’ve had enough of you,” Miguel mumbles, as his talons extend.

“That’s a new one,” the Green Goblin comments, referring to the talons, before he jumps off the rooftop.

And of course, Miguel O’Hara never gives up, so he runs after the Green Goblin under the pouring rain. He watches as the anomaly lands on its glider before he flies off, laughing at Miguel. With a scowl, Miguel shoots his web and starts following him, catching up with the anomaly in no time.

“Catch, Spider-Man!” the Green Goblin says pulling out one of its many grenades before he throws it at a building.

Miguel charges towards it, successfully stopping it from detonating but what he doesn’t sense is the Green Goblin coming from behind with his trident. He hits Miguel’s gizmo again with a strength that manages to crack the screen. He swipes at Miguel once more, slicing his skin almost in the same place as earlier before he flies off. Miguel shoots his web to keep himself from falling to the ground.

“Mierda!” Miguel yells as he swings, clutching the same area that was sliced.

He looks down at his gizmo, noticing the crack on it. It should continue working, Miguel thinks to himself, knowing that he and Lyla spent a lot of time making sure the device would be durable. It would take a lot to break it.

And it becomes the Green Goblin’s mission to do so. As Miguel and the anomaly continue their fight through the city, the Green Goblin aims hit after hit on the device, cunningly planning blows as he realizes the Spider-Man before him doesn’t sense his moves like the superhero from his own universe.

“Don’t let him hit the gizmo, Miguel!” Lyla warns, as the Green Goblin makes another swing.

And so, after what feels like an hour of fighting, the green mask man succeeds.

“Migu-” Lyla starts but doesn’t finish.

The gizmo’s screen shatters, and Miguel immediately knows it when he sees the colors of the device fade and Lyla’s holograph disappearing, making Miguel cuss under his breath as he realizes what this means. He needs to catch the Green Goblin soon, before he starts glitching.

The Green Goblin, however, has other plans as he flies off towards a skyscraper. He immediately pulls out more of his grenades, throwing them at the building. Miguel rushes and jumps into the air to try and stop them from detonating and as he works on this, the Green Goblin flies to him, quickly stabbing him with his trident in the stomach. He laughs at Miguel as he twists the trident to add more pain before flying off just as one of the remaining grenades goes off, blowing up a part of the skyscraper. Miguel, who is falling in midair due to the injury, covers his face as debris bursts around him. He feels some of it, glass from the windows, dig into his body causing him to groan in pain.

The adrenaline of it all still allows him to shoot his webs, preventing himself from falling. Except he glitches. For the first time in his life, Miguel experiences firsthand what it feels like to be an anomaly. He feels the shock of it in his body as he’s falling again since his web gave out in the process of glitching. The glitching stops and he tries again, catching himself on time. He lifts himself up onto a rooftop to collect himself, but the pain is there. He looks around quickly, there’s no sight of the Green Goblin. Miguel breathes heavily, the action making pain course through his body. He looks up at the city as he feels blood gush under his suit, where the trident puncture his body.

“Mierda,” Miguel mumbles out of breath, realizing what his situation means. No one knows he’s here. It’s the middle of the night and he’s injured, unable to travel back to his universe because his gizmo is broken. The realization dawns on him.

This might be it.

As the realization hits him, Miguel looks around the city. The rain is going strong, and he can hear sirens in the distance. He must move somewhere else. The tallest building catches his eye right away. He makes one last swing, forcing himself to climb the building despite the pain but thinking that if this is it, he wants to have a nice view. He thankfully doesn’t glitch on his way up, allowing him to make it to the rooftop. He collapses against a wall, next to the building’s door that leads to the rooftop. Miguel stares out into the city as he lays on the ground, clutching his stomach. The adrenaline is wearing off, and he knows it because his body feels weaker now. He begins to feel the pain more as it runs through his body. He can feel blood under his suit, gushing out slowly and his breathing feels more labored now.

Miguel looks at his gizmo again, as if hoping that the device will magically function, but he knows better. There’s no way to return to his universe. He sighs, the action taking more effort than it should as he lets his mask off, wanting his face to feel the rain.

What a way to die. In another universe that isn’t his home. Alone on a rooftop as rain cascades down on him. His hair is damp and it’s sticking to his forehead, but Miguel makes no attempt to fix it. His face – no – his entire body feels cold, which is a strange feeling for Miguel. His body heat has always prevented him from being cold but his body – the one he has pushed to its limits for years now – fails him now.

Miguel tries to ignore it. He tries to focus on the city and the skyscrapers. It’s a lovely sight and he can’t help but remember the day he was here with you many months ago when he assigned you to work with him for the first time. It was daytime and the sight was wonderful. He can’t help but think that you would love the sight even more at night.

As he stares out into the city, he can’t help but also think how ironic this is. Miguel is about to die on Earth-42. The very same universe linked to the whole mess with Miles. It seems so far away now, Miguel thinks. When he was set on preventing Miles from saving his father so he wouldn’t break the canon. It was such a messy situation. He acted in a way he’ll never be able to take back even if everyone else moved on.

Now, here he is. On Earth-42, in a far different city than the one he met when he first ventured into the multiverse. It’s almost like a slap in the face. As if it was meant for him to think of this in his last moments. To see one of his biggest mistakes. 

Miguel sighs again and this time, the action makes him hiss in pain. He can feel the blood. The pain is there but he tries to bear with it. He tries to distract himself.

As Miguel stares at the lights and the skyscrapers, his mind begins to wander off. He thinks of his family and flashes of memories run through his head. He sees his mom, when she was much younger and he was a kid, tending to his scraped knee. He sees her cooking in the kitchen of his childhood home.

He sees Gabriel sitting on his bedroom floor playing with his action figures, the same ones he begged Conchata for. He remembers the evenings they spent together, playing and pretending to be superheroes, not knowing what was in store for them in the future. He recalls the times when Gabriel was still so young and had nightmares. He found no comfort from his father, so he always went to Miguel’s bedroom. There, Miguel would comfort and assure him that it was just a bad dream and that it meant nothing. Despite Miguel’s comforting words, Gabriel always asked if he could stay with him, and Miguel could never say no.

“Gabrielito,” Miguel whispers, as he thinks of his little brother. His childhood face flashes in Miguel’s head before it morphs into Gabriel’s adult face. It was unfair, so unfair. Like any other older sibling, Miguel always thought he would be the first to pass away. He never imagined that it would be his little brother. He never imagined he would be taken away the way he was either. It was so unfair.

And as he thinks of Gabrielito, Miguel remembers a song his brother was very fond of. Surprisingly, the music is so clear in his mind as if it was only yesterday when the two of them drove to hang out with friends. As the older brother, Miguel was obviously the driver and Gabriel sat in the passenger seat, playing music. He remembers the first time Gabriel played it. He asked Miguel to be quiet and to just listen to it. And so, they had. They drove in silence as the instrumental song played, and it felt oddly nostalgic.

Miguel’s breathing slows down as the memories rush through his mind. They switch over to Gabriella. His time with her was short but they made so many memories. He can’t help but feel shame and pain in his chest as he thinks of her. Miguel has strayed away from his religion for some time now, but he hopes that if Heaven is real, that’ll he get to see her again. To hold her one more time. To apologize to her for lying. His wife comes to mind, too, of course, and so does the shame. He fell in love so quickly. His need to have a family blinded him so much, everything was rushed. Miguel can’t help but think now that he would’ve done things differently if he could. He wouldn’t have rushed into things. His wife had deserved better than him. Yet, he thinks fondly of the short time they had. He thinks warmly of the time he had a family even if it’s laced with shame and pain.

He lets his mind take him to those memories, back to those days that are long gone. As his mind is flooded with memories, he doesn’t notice the slowness of his breathing or heart. He doesn’t even feel the coldness of the wet ground or the cold raindrops that run down his beautiful face. He doesn’t notice that he’s staring at the city with half-lidded eyes now.

His mind goes through everything that happened in the last two years, including the fight and the multiverse hunt for Miles, which all lead to the last year. And of course, the last year leads to you. Your face flashes in Miguel’s mind. He thinks of the first time he met you when Jess introduced you. He thinks of the first weeks that you showed up with coffee to meetings before anyone else arrived and how he ignored the gesture. He remembers the day you volunteered to organize his lab thanks to Jess’s comment about the clutter. He sees different days combined into one memory of you chatting with Lyla as you worked, your voice and Lyla’s carrying to him, allowing him to hear bits and pieces.

He thinks of the day he showed up at your apartment and how he hated feeling something, which he now realizes was worry. Everything that has happened with you runs through his mind like a show. He sees your face, looking up at him on Dia de los Muertos, with that look of understanding in your eyes. He sees your arm reaching out to him when you wanted to comfort him. He sees you sitting on his kitchen island, eating the food he cooked on Christmas Eve. He remembers the ornaments and how yours was better than his. He recalls you showing up the next day. You brought cake and it was delicious. He remembers the two of you sat on the kitchen island again to eat, that time joined by Lyla, who asked questions as per usual.

He thinks of New Years Eve. You were invited to Miles’s universe, and you were sent to drop off food again. You stayed for a while once he mentioned that there was a huge firework show after the ball dropped, which meant that you spent the last and first minutes of the year with him in his penthouse.

Miguel’s heart continues to slow down as he thinks of the last year. You’re his friend. And he can’t help but feel disappointed that he’ll never be able to tell you face to face now. He wishes he could thank you. For everything. For the days you dealt with his coldness when he didn’t acknowledge you at all and left your coffee untouched. He briefly thinks about your excuse for taking him coffee. You lied much the same way he had lied about his reasoning for checking in on you that very first day. The day that led to your friendship. As Miguel’s eyelids further close, he thinks of how you’ll never know the truth about that day.

No one will.

Miguel’s heart beats slower and his body is cold as the rain continues to fall on him in the early morning. He listens to the soft pit pat as rain lands on the ground as the seconds tick by.

The same pit pat of rain can be heard on your apartment windows. The sound of it immediately fills your ears when you jolt awake from your sleep. A loud gasp escapes from your lips as you sit up on your bed. You sit, listening to the rain in the darkness of your bedroom as you try to catch your breath.

Your spider senses begin to go off, making you realize that’s what woke you up. You hurriedly jump out of bed and make a straight line to where you keep the two-way radio. You always keep the volume somewhat high during the night in case of emergencies but as you grab it and wait, there’s no feedback. Your eyes flicker to the clock on your nightstand. It’s three in the morning. You hurry to the windows of your apartment, pulling the curtains open to look out. There’s no sight of disturbance. If anything, the city looks at peace under the rain.

There’s not even the sound of traffic. All you can hear is the sound of rain but it’s there again. Your spider senses. Something is not right.

You hurry and get changed into your suit, not knowing what to do. Nothing looks wrong outside but you’re out of your apartment in less than three minutes. You swing from building to building as your eyes inspect the streets below. Your eyes search for anyone who might be in danger or anyone who might cause trouble.

Nothing.

You land on a rooftop to catch your breath. There’s a feeling of dread growing in the pit of your stomach. It’s one you’re all too familiar with as you’ve only ever felt this kind of dread once before. You try not to think of it but it’s impossible not to. The kind of dread that’s spreading through your body is the same kind you felt the day you lost Peter. You felt it spread like poison when you hurried to find Peter in the rubble. The feeling is branded into your mind and as you stand on the rooftop, overlooking the city still searching for trouble, you are overwhelmed by it once again.

You click on your gizmo and open a portal. If nothing is wrong in your universe, maybe there’s trouble somewhere else, you tell yourself. You quickly travel to all your friends’ universes within two minutes. Each time you arrive, you scan your friends’ cities but find nothing amiss. The cities are peaceful. You’re about to open another portal when your senses go off once again.

“What’s happening?” you mutter, as you look around one more time, seeing nothing.

You quickly head to HQ, finding yourself in the cafeteria. You walk through it quickly, feeling even more uneasy at the sight of a usually busy place being vacant of any life. Some of the lights are completely off, leaving pockets of darkness lingering around as you cross the cafeteria. You wonder where you’re even heading as you walk past the large windows of the Spider Society building, noticing the rain and the distant lights of flying cars.

Miguel’s city looks peaceful as well. Nothing seems wrong and yet that dread grows with each step you take, growing and clawing at your chest. Finally paying more attention, you realize you’ve made your way to Miguel’s lab. Perhaps there’s an anomaly threatening the entirety of the multiverse, you try to reason. Maybe that’s why you woke up.

You stand in front of Miguel’s lab and call for Lyla. Despite the uneasiness and dread running through your body, you still find it in yourself to ask for permission to enter his lab. You wait impatiently for the AI assistant to greet you but as the seconds tick by, there’s no sight of Lyla and your emotions intensify. It’s like a sign that something is definitely wrong. You call for Lyla one more time, saying her name louder and with more urgency as if that’ll help. Nothing. You burst into the lab, deciding to be sorry rather than safe.

“Miguel?” you call out, as you hurriedly enter his lab, hoping to find him on his platform surrounded by his many screens like always. “I’m sorry that I entered your lab like that, but Lyla is not responding, and my spider senses are goi-” you say, stopping when your eyes finally land on the platform.

Miguel’s screens are flashing red, not the usual marigold color you’ve grown accustomed to. And even worse yet, Miguel is nowhere in sight. You rush to the platform to get a closer look at the screens. They all read “DISCONNECTED.”

You stare in confusion but realize this must be the reason why Lyla didn’t respond earlier. You call out Miguel’s name again, but you’re met with a deafening silence. You take a deep breath in. Lyla is offline. The screens are flashing red. And Miguel is nowhere to be found.

You hurriedly try to reach Miguel through your gizmo, but your gizmo flashes a message, indicating that the recipient is disconnected. Your dread grows. There’s no way that Miguel would go offline like this. You’re halfway out of HQ when you reach out to Margo, the one person you know who can manage Miguel’s technology. As you head out into Nueva York, you pray for once that Margo is pulling one of her usual all-nighters. As you swing towards Miguel’s penthouse, Margo finally responds.

“Hey – what are you doing up this late? Something wrong?” Margo immediately asks.

You look down at her projected hologram from your gizmo. “Margo. Something is wrong with Miguel’s system. Lyla is offline and so is he. I think – I think something’s wrong. Can you please head to HQ and fix it? I’m on my way to Miguel’s penthouse to see if he’s alright,” you say, the words rushing out of your mouth, full of worry.

“Offline? That’s not – I don’t think Miguel would ever go offline,” Margo responds with a frown. “I’m going now to see what’s going on.”

“I’ll meet you there in a few minutes. Bye,” you say as her hologram disappears.

You quickly find Miguel’s building and swing to it, sticking to the walls. You climb it, until you reach the penthouse and look inside. All the lights are off and there’s no sight of Miguel anywhere. You climb onto the rooftop, immediately clicking on your gizmo to open a portal, pulling the coordinates that were sent to you on Christmas Eve months ago. You hurriedly walk through it, stepping into Miguel’s living room once again.

Your eyes scan the place quickly before you rush up the stairs. With each step you take, you feel that dread grow tenfold. You pray that everything’s fine. That you’ll only have to apologize to Miguel for coming into his home the way you are now. You pray that he’ll be in bed sleeping for once and that this is all some misunderstanding. You open the first door you come across, eyes scanning the room only to realize it’s an office. You open the next door and find a large, luxurious bathroom. The next room is a bedroom, but you immediately realize it’s not the master bedroom, so you rush to the next door, pushing it open. Your heart sinks as you take in the sight.

Miguel’s bedroom is empty, and his bed looks undisturbed, which means he’s not home. You rush back to the first floor before you sprint to the living room, gizmo already opening a portal. You travel back to HQ, popping up at the cafeteria before you rush to the lab, wondering if Margo has been able to fix the problem. All the while, your dread grows. You feel your chest tighten as you think of Miguel and his whereabouts.

You burst into the lab where you find Margo, opening and closing screens with the flick of her wrist. She looks over her shoulder before she continues to work.

“He’s not at home,” you manage to breathe out despite the tightness in your chest.

“This is – not looking good,” Margo says, making you freeze.

“What do you mean it’s not looking good?” you ask, staring at her back as she continues to work. Her words make your anxiety grow.

“Miguel’s gizmo is completely offline, which means… it’s broken. Wherever he is, the gizmo is not working at all,” she says as she opens another screen.

You bring a hand to your face, gripping your lower face as you look around the lab. You feel your breathing speed up while at the same time finding it difficult to even do so.  

“Have you been able to get Lyla back online?” you ask shakily.

“I’m working on it. Just one more step,” Margo says in a rush, noticing your demeanor slowly crumbling apart. “She’s back! Lyla must know what happened.”

It takes a few seconds before Lyla appears and you waste no time.

“Lyla, where is Miguel?” you ask, stepping closer to her.

“Y/N! Miguel is hurt and stranded on Earth-42! There were two anomalies detected and he went out to handle them but one of them broke his gizmo and managed to injure him,” Lyla hurriedly explains the situation.

“Shit,” you mutter, and begin to open a portal. “What were his last coordinates, Lyla?”

“I’ll send them to you, please hurry! I don’t know how badly he was injured, and he must be glitching by now.”

“Inform Jess of what’s happening and see if we can get other members to help. Miguel may have moved from the last coordinates you have. We may need to search the city for him. Margo. Please stay here just in case we need any help with the system. I’ll keep you updated,” you say before you rush into the portal.

Rain pours down on you as you step into Earth-42. You waste no time in looking around at the city and instead run to the ledge of the rooftop. You lunge yourself to the next building, eyes scanning, trying to find any sign of Miguel. Lyla’s hologram appears from your gizmo as you fly to the next building, giving you Miguel’s last known location.

You swing from building to building, moving fast just as you see another portal from your peripheral vision.

“Y/N. Any sign of Miguel?” Jess asks, joining the search.

“Not yet,” you reply as you continue to swing.

“Others will be joining the search. They’re on their way,” Jess replies.

And sure enough, as you swing between buildings, you see multiple portals opening from various rooftops. You feel relief to see others joining and hope that with more people involved, the search won’t last long.

“Alright, everyone. Lyla has sent Miguel’s last location. He’s injured and probably glitching as his gizmo stopped working.”

You hear your colleagues’ replies as you head to the location. You briefly wonder about the anomalies. Were they caught or did they get away? You reach Miguel’s last location and immediately search the rooftop for any signs, but Miguel is nowhere to be seen. You turn when you hear someone else join you. Hobie gives you a nod before he searches the other side of the rooftop.

“Nothing,” he says.

You dash to the other rooftop, looking down at the empty and dark alleyways, hoping to find something.

“This rooftop looks disturbed. Looks like there was some fighting,” Hobie communicates.

You locate him and join him. Others join you and Hobie in inspecting the scene, and sure enough there are signs of fighting but no sign of Miguel anywhere around. You look around, trying to get a feel of where the fighting moved to from this rooftop. You leap to the next rooftop, continuing your search.

“There is no sight of anomalies,” someone says, making you pause. If Miguel’s gizmo isn’t working and this isn’t his universe, surely that would mean that Lyla should be able to detect him as an anomaly in this universe.

You continue to search but call for Lyla, who immediately appears.

“Lyla. If Miguel’s gizmo isn’t working, can’t you detect him as an anomaly in this universe?” you ask her, hoping that she and everyone else including you forgot about this fact and that she’ll be able to pinpoint his exact location, but she shakes her head, giving you a look full of frustration.

“I’ve tried that. Unfortunately, the system failure from earlier has caused some malfunctions in the entire system. I cannot detect any anomalies at all right now. Margo and I are working on it. As soon as we get it running again, I’ll run the test and find him unless you guys find him first.”

You thank her and let her go, hoping that Miguel is found whichever way as long as it’s soon. You continue to move around, lunging from building to building like the other members in search of the founder and commander of the Spider Society. Your heart races as you search, and you pause for a second, trying to calm yourself down. Panicking like this will only interfere with successfully finding him. You pause and take a deep breath. Your spider senses went off earlier and now you’re sure it was for this reason. You try to calm down, hoping that this will allow your senses to come in. You will them to help you right now; to lead you in the right direction.

You don’t allow yourself to think too long about the fact that you sensed this. That you sensed Miguel was in trouble. You ignore it. That will be something to ponder about later, or maybe not, considering you’ll come up with no reasonable explanation. You hope no one questions how you knew either.

You look around the city as rain continues to pour down on you. Since you arrived, the rain has picked up and all you can think about is Miguel on some rooftop, hurt and glitching under the cold rain.

“Where are you, Miguel?” you whisper, as you do a full turn.

Your gaze moves past it, but your eyes quickly return to it. The tallest building in the city is about ten buildings away from you. You stop and look up at it, rain falling on your masked face. Before you know it, you’re running across rooftops, leaping in the air to reach the building. You hear Hobie and Jess scream at you, asking where you’re going, and you reluctantly answer through your gizmo.

“I’m just going to check something,” you reply, as you throw web at the building now, aiding you in reaching the building faster. You feel a strange sensation spread through your chest as you stick to the building and begin to run upwards. You hope you’re right and yet again you wonder what it’ll mean if you are, but you don’t spend too much time thinking about this. All you care about at the end of the day is that Miguel is found and well. You continue to run, lifting yourself up with your web. You use a combination of running and lifting to reach the top of the building, meanwhile you can sense other members far behind joining you.

And why wouldn’t they when they see the speed and determination in your movements. To everyone paying attention, you’re climbing the tallest building in the city as if you know that your distant and serious commander is on that rooftop.

And he is.

You see his slumped figured over a wall and rush with a speed that almost makes it seem like you teleported to him. You are kneeled at his right side almost instantly, eyes scanning his bare face.

You quickly lift your gizmo and inform the others.

“Miguel has been found. He’s on the tallest building’s rooftop,” you say, sounding ragged not only because of the climb but also because of relief that you’ve found him. You notice his chest moving. Breathing. “He’s breathing!” you add, informing your colleagues.

You notice raindrops running down his face and without a second thought, you remove your mask and lay it over his head as an attempt to shield his face. Your worry for Miguel is so strong that you don’t even notice the coldness of the rain on your face or the fact that your hair is getting damp.

You move closer to him now. “Miguel,” you say and tentatively grab his right shoulder. “Miguel, can you hear me?” you ask loudly, hoping he’ll hear you over the pouring rain.

You take in the sight of Miguel, anguish spreading through your body as you try to get a sense of his injuries. His brown hair is wet from the rain, making it stick to his forehead.  His face looks like it has lost some color, which worries you instantly, but you try not to think negatively. Miguel is a strong man, and you know his spider abilities allow him to withhold many injuries. The only thing bothering you is that you don’t know the extent of the injuries he may have. For all you know, they could be serious, which is why you’re careful when you look down at his body, trying to find any sign of injury, but his suit looks intact.

“Miguel,” you say again and this time you cup the right side of his face in your hand, immediately feeling the coldness of his skin even through your suit. Shame rushes through you as you hold his face, feeling like you’re disrespecting him and his boundaries regarding physical touch, but you push past it and call his name again.

And this time, Miguel shifts slightly. His eyes flutter open slowly before they move to you.

“You are here” he mumbles, with his maroon eyes meeting yours.

“Miguel! Yes, we’re here. Don’t worry, we’re taking you back home, okay?” you say softly, reassuring him. “Where are you hurt?” you ask him just as other members finally reach the rooftop.

“I have glass shards in my torso,” he says, closing his eyes. “And a few deep cuts. My gizmo is not working,” he adds softly with eyes still closed, feeling your suited hand cupping his face gently.

You nod though he cannot see you and look down at his gizmo since he mentioned it, noticing for the first time the broken device. You’ve never seen or heard of anyone’s breaking, not even during a gruesome fight since Miguel and Lyla spent a lot of time making sure they were durable in these kinds of scenarios. You wonder how it was possible that it managed to get broken. You shove your thoughts away and remove your hand from Miguel’s face. You quickly remove your gizmo and gently take Miguel’s right arm in your free hand as you’re suddenly surrounded by your colleagues. You slide your gizmo into his free wrist, ensuring that he won’t glitch any more in the meantime before he’s back to Nueva York, so he won’t be in additional pain. You let go of his arm and turn slightly to see who’s made it already.

Miguel opens his eyes when he feels the gizmo around his wrist. He looks at your hands, your wrist now empty. He wants to tell you to take it back or you’ll glitch soon, but Jess begins to talk, giving orders to your colleagues as the second in command, preventing him from warning you.

“We need to get him to HQ immediately,” she says stepping closer. “We’ll need to carry him carefully as we don’t know the extent of the injuries,” she adds looking down at Miguel and you, who remains kneeled at his side. She looks around and calls out some of your colleagues’ names, including yours, to help carry Miguel to HQ.

You and the others immediately get on it. You turn to Miguel and give him an apologetic look though his eyes are closed again before you take his arm. You put all your strength along with Ben Reilly to help Miguel up, but you end up getting replaced by Peter once it becomes apparent that your height difference is an issue. Still, you stand by closely making sure that they don’t hurt him in the process. Someone opens a portal just as Jess gives the order to the other members to search for the anomalies.

You watch as Ben and Peter hold Miguel, walking carefully into the portal. Jess motions for you to go, following closely behind you.

“The infirmary staff is ready to treat him. They should be waiting for us,” Jess says as you step foot back in HQ.

You briefly look around at the infirmary sector before your eyes return to Miguel. Sure enough, infirmary staff approach the three men and before you know it, Miguel is on a stretcher being led away down a long hallway.

A doctor, who you hadn’t noticed before, approaches you and everyone else. You watch as the staff take Miguel away until they enter a room and disappear while Jess and the doctor talk.

“With Miguel hurt, I’ll be handling things until he recovers. That means I’ll have to be away, but you can direct yourself to -” Jess says pausing, looking around before her eyes land on you. “You can direct yourself to her. Y/N,” you hear Jess.

You turn at the mention of your name. You find her, the doctor and Peter looking at you.

“As the second in command, I’ll be taking over for now. Peter, you’ll be my second in command in the meantime. And you,” Jess says nodding at you. “You’ll be my third in command. I need you to stay here and keep us updated on Miguel’s status. You’re also to make sure that his privacy is respected,” she says with a frown. “I doubt anyone will try anything, but I rather be safe than sorry. Make sure no one tries to go in for any reason. If he wants visitors once he’s awake, it’ll be up to him.”

You nod.

“Of course, I’ll keep you updated and make sure no one intrudes on his priva-” you start but stop when you glitch. You cry out as you experience glitching for the first time and nearly lose your balance, but Peter catches you before you fall.

“You’re glitching – where is your gizmo?” Peter asks confused as he holds you, keeping you steady.

You huff in pain and look up as the feeling starts fading away. You meet Peter and Jess’s eyes.

“I gave it to Miguel to prevent him from glitching again in the time it took us to transport him,” you finally say softly, still feeling a little out of breath. You can’t help but think how awful it feels to glitch even in good health, making you wonder what it must have felt like for Miguel while being injured. You sigh softly. “I’ll keep you guys updated. And I’ll make sure Miguel is undisturbed,” you add.

Jess and Peter look at you before the two of them nod.

“I’ll have someone send you a gizmo in a while. For now, put this on to prevent more glitching,” Jess says pulling out a day pass from her pocket. She hands it to you, and you slide it on immediately, thanking her. “Peter and I will be in Miguel’s lab. Margo and Lyla are still trying to fix the system. We need to get it fixed before we find ourselves with multiple anomalies running loose, so we’ll be taking care of that. As I said, someone will deliver a gizmo so you can keep us updated, alright?”

You nod and Jess nods back at you. She stares at you for a few seconds as if she wants to say more but she looks over at Peter, who meets her eyes before he turns to you. He gives you a reassuring smile.

“We’ll get through this. Everything will be alright. Right, Jess?” he says, turning his attention back to Jess as he lets go of you at last, sensing you’re more stable now after glitching.

“Right,” Jess says before she nods at you and gives her thanks to the doctor, who hurries off. Jess, too, departs, heading to the elevator with Ben following behind.

Your gaze moves to the doctor as she walks down the hallway. Your eyes follow her even when you feel Peter’s hand on your shoulder.

“He’ll be okay. Miguel is a strong guy,” he says softly in a reassuring tone, also watching the doctor for a few seconds. He sighs and squeezes your shoulder gently before he departs, following Jess and Ben to the elevator.

You stand alone in the infirmary’s quiet lobby now. You look around to distract yourself. Thankfully you’ve never needed to be here, so you’re not familiar with this floor. You find yourself walking to the windows. It’s still dark out, so you can see the lights on from other buildings and cars in the distance despite the blurriness due to the soft rain. You stare out of the windows for some time, your mind taken up by Miguel and his health.

It's not until you feel a tap on the shoulder that you turn away from the windows. You find Ben Reilly, who offers you a small smile before he hands you a gizmo and a tablet.

“Jess sends this. The gizmo for obvious reasons and the tablet to keep you occupied while you wait,” he says, still giving you a smile.

You take both devices and nod at him, giving him a small smile. “Thank you, Ben. I appreciate it,” you say as you slide on the new gizmo.

Ben nods, staring at you. You hold on to the tablet, looking down at it before Ben breaks the silence. “Pretty crazy, right?”

You look up just as he pushes his hair to the side a bit, and nod before turning to face the windows again. “Yes.”

The two of you stare out the window for a few seconds in silence, watching the rain.

“Miguel will be alright, I think. He’s a buff dude,” Ben says, trying to reassure you. You smile sadly and nod.

You hear Ben pop his fingers next to you. “I must head back now. Jess and Peter needs everyone on board to find those anomalies so – I’ll see you around.”

You turn to face him and thank him again. “Thank you. Please tell Jess and Peter that if they need me to do anything else, to let me know.”

Ben nods as he stands in front of you, giving you another small smile. “Consider it done. By the way, the way you leaped up that building was – very impressive and I mean that in a good way,” he adds.

You nod again, feeling somewhat lighter with Ben’s comment as you’ve learned over the last months that he’s really into dramatic poses and such and you have a feeling he’s trying to lighten up the mood despite the situation. “Thank you, Ben. I appreciate the compliment.”

Ben nods one more time before he starts departing but turns around again, remembering something.

“Oh, I almost forgot. Your mask,” he says walking back to you and pulling your mask from under his hoodie and handing it to you. “It fell when we carried Miguel back here.”

You take it from his hand. You completely forgot about it once you put it over Miguel’s head. You thank him again for his help before he departs, leaving you alone again. You slide the mask into one of your suit’s hidden pockets and hold on to the tablet but don’t boot it up. Instead, you turn your attention back to the windows. You wait patiently there, hoping that someone will come and give you an update, but no one comes. Your mind goes back to what happened tonight and you try to think of an explanation but eventually drop it. You don’t know what happened tonight. You don’t know what led you to sense Miguel’s situation but you’re glad he’s safe now, in his universe and that’s all that matters.

It’s not until almost two hours later that you hear footsteps. You turn around immediately, for once departing from your spot by the windows. Your eyes find the doctor from earlier as she heads your way. She gives you a nod of acknowledgment as she reaches you.

“Mr. O’Hara is stable now. He had multiple glass shards on his torso, many of which were small, so we needed to ensure we didn’t miss any of them to prevent an infection. He also has two large cuts on the left side of his torso and a stab wound in the middle of his abdomen. It was pretty deep, and it will take a few days to fully heal. We know he glitched a few times and it took some toll on his body, so that’s why it’ll make his injuries heal slower, but he’ll recover successfully,” the doctor informs you with a kind voice. “Would you like to see him? He’s still passed out due to the meds, but you can stay in the room with him now.”

You nod immediately. “Yes, please. And thank you for the update. I’ll let the others know right away,” you say, as the two of you walk down the hallway.

You can’t help but feel your heart pound in your chest as you approach the room. The doctor opens the door for you, letting you in.

“Let us know if you need anything,” she says before she closes the door softly, giving you privacy.

The hospital room’s lights are off except for two lamps to the left side of the room and a light behind the hospital bed, where you find Miguel. You carefully walk closer to the bed, your eyes scanning his face under the soft lighting. As you step closer and stand by his side at last, your eyes continue to observe his face. Miguel’s face is relaxed, and you can’t help but think how boyish he looks while sleeping. It’s as if all the worries and threats to the multiverse are nonexistent at this moment.

You notice his hair is dry now, but it’s still pressed to his forehead, giving him a messy look, which just adds to the boyish look. You fight the urge to fix it and instead pull a chair closer to the bed before you take a seat. You remember you need to update everyone, so you send a quick message to Jess, notifying her that Miguel is stable and what the doctor said about his injuries. It takes a few seconds before she replies that she’s relieved to hear the news. She also asks you to let her know when Miguel wakes up.

You sit on your chair near Miguel, listening to his even and slow breathing. You watch his chest gently rise and fall before your eyes trace his face. His face still needs to regain its natural color but he’s alive and he’ll recover. All is well now. For the first time since you woke up, you exhale deeply; releasing pent up emotions now that your very own eyes can confirm that Miguel is safe. Before you know it, you feel tears pooling in your eyes as you stare at Miguel’s sleeping face.

You rest an arm on the chair’s armchair and rest your chin on your hand as you feel the tears run down your face softly. Your lips quiver as you hold a soft sob in the quiet hospital room, unable to stop yourself from crying.

Tonight is the first time in four years that you’ve felt anything remotely close to what you felt the day you lost Peter. The dread that grew with each second as you headed to find him. The tightening of your chest that made it difficult to breathe as you swung from building to building. The feeling that you were going to be too late. Again.

Of course, you know it’s different. Peter had a small window of time that to this day you believe you missed. You felt lucky enough that you were able to say goodbye to him.  Meanwhile, Miguel could’ve probably hung on for a little longer due to his powers and yet, you still felt those same emotions while you searched for him. You continue to cry quietly, letting the tears run freely down your face as you watch over him.

You’re unable to stop yourself from thinking the worst. Sure, you are superheroes but that doesn’t mean you are invisible to danger or death. As your eyes remain on Miguel’s sleeping face, your chest feels heavy at the brief thought of something worse happening to him, making your eyes tear up more. You cry quietly, covering your mouth until you calm down.

You sniffle once your tears slow down and blame it on your lack of sleep and the adrenaline completely leaving your body now. You dry your face and breathe in before exhaling softly. The last thing you want is for someone to see you like this. You check your gizmo, reading the time. It’s past 5:30 A.M. and when you look towards the windows from your spot, you see the first signs of daylight.

Miguel made it to another day.

You turn back to Miguel. He’s still sleeping with his head resting against soft pillows. The sight of Miguel in a hospital gown feels so wrong. It’s still strange to see him in anything other than his suit as you’ve only ever seen him in normal clothes three times: Christmas Eve, Christmas, and New Years Eve. As you watch over him, your eyes land on his arms. It seems that the grey hospital gown is a bit tight as the sleeves hug his large biceps but despite that, he looks relaxed with his arms at his sides, hands curled softly.

You observe his sleeping figure, eyes tracing his arms down to his large hands. Your eyes then flicker to his bare neck and part of his collarbone where you spot a small piece of gauze taped to his skin with medical tape. You wonder just how many of those he has on his torso on top of the large wounds. You sigh deeply as you continue to watch over Miguel, wishing that this hadn’t happened.

You feel a shiver run through your body, feeling slightly cold when the AC turns on. You look at the end of the bed and find a folded blanket. You get up and grab it, laying it over Miguel’s body gently. You bring it up to his neck, making sure to cover his arms which you imagine might get cold. You stand over him, staring at him for a few seconds before you walk to the windows to stretch your legs.

You cross your arms across your chest. It’s still raining, and the sky is beginning to brighten though it remains grey and cloudy because of the weather. You spot more traffic now, too. The city is slowly waking up as you stare out for a few minutes. You turn back around and lean on the windows as you take a quick glance around the room for the first time. The appearance of the room was the last thing on your mind when you first came in and even now you just briefly scan the room. You notice it’s very spacious with a sitting area for visitors to the right of the room when you enter. Across from it, on the other side of the door, there’s a room, which you suspect is the bathroom. You turn to your right now, noticing a screen displayed on the wall, facing Miguel. A TV, you realize before your eyes return to Miguel.

Your eyes flicker to the sitting area for visitors for a moment, making you think of his family. He has none left, like you. You sigh softly, remembering thoughts you used to have before joining the Spider Society. There were many times when you went out on patrols and sat on rooftops, observing the streets below when your mind took you to a depressing place after Peter’s death.

You wondered many times what would happen the day you die. You have no family and you cut ties with friends from your universe. You quit your job, so you didn’t even have colleagues. No one would go look for you if something happened to you. No one would claim you as family.

It was scary and depressing to think of this and so you pushed it away and hoped each time that one day you’d have someone – anyone – in your life. Someone who could say something about you. You hoped that it wouldn’t be so lonely then, at least not the way it felt when you arrived home with cuts and bruises that you had to tend to by yourself after Peter’s death. No longer did you fall into Peter’s arms, who held you for a few seconds before he sat you down to clean and tend to your wounds, comforting you with his gentle voice and touch.

As you stare at Miguel and think about this and the fact that Miguel has no family either, you’re glad that Jess assigned you to do this, though you realize you would’ve requested to do it regardless. The idea of anyone waking up alone in a hospital room depresses you and that feeling only intensifies as you think of Miguel, the man that longed for a family so much he inserted himself in another universe to fulfill that dream when he had a chance.

Only to lose it.

You shake your head softly, still staring at him. You’ve never wished this much for someone to be happy like you’ve done towards Miguel. You hope one day he can move forward. That one day, life will treat this man better. This man that deserves so much more but who has lost so much.

“Gabi,” Miguel mutters softly.

You straighten up and walk over to him, standing by his side. Miguel is still sleeping but his brows are furrowed as he mutters Gabriella’s name again. You stand there, not knowing what to do. Your hands wish to reach for his to comfort him, but you’re still set on respecting his wish of no physical touch, so you settle with placing them near his hand instead.

“Gabi.”

Your eyebrows lower and knit together in sadness as you hear Miguel call for Gabriella again.

“Miguel,” you say softly, not sure it’ll even help. “It’s okay,” you whisper.

“Gabi,” Miguel mutters, moving his head slightly against the pillows.

You watch his face as a heavy feeling overwhelms your chest, wishing you could do more. Miguel grows restless, moving his head more. You notice that his hands also begin to move under the blanket you covered him in. It takes you a few seconds to see that the blanket seems stuck to his hands. You pull the blanket off him gently from your side to see his hand, finding his extended talons stuck to the fabric. You have no other choice but to pull the blanket off him gently, successfully freeing his talons. You look down at them for a second, seeing them for the first time outside of the suit before you return your gaze to Miguel’s face.

“Miguel,” you say. “It’s okay… It’s okay.”

Miguel continues to move restlessly, and you fear that he’ll hurt himself in the process, so you do the one thing you think of. You take his hand softly in your own and squeeze gently, whispering softly that everything is alright. You feel his hand move slightly in yours, causing you to feel one of his talons against your hand. You feel some pain even through your suit, but you push past it and continue to hold his hand, talking to him even though you’re sure he can’t hear you.

You watch helplessly as tears gently begin to roll down Miguel’s face as he continues to call for Gabi.

“Mija.”

You hold his hand in yours as he cries in his sleep, occasionally feeling his talons dig into your skin softly. You softly whisper reassuring words, hoping it will cease his crying as the sight devastates you to your core, but he grows restless, and the heart monitor begins to warn about his heart. You look up, noticing his heart rate is increasing rapidly. You rush to the door and yell for the doctor, full of worry.

/\  /\  /\  /\  /\  /\  /\ _ _ _ _ _ _ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/

Miguel stands in front of his penthouse’s windows, looking out. The sky is a light blue, and the sun is shining brightly, illuminating the entire place. His eyes take in the sight of distant skyscrapers below soft clouds in the sky. Cars fly in the distance. The city is busy as always. He stands there for what feels like minutes watching in silence before it’s broken.

“Hermano.”

Miguel turns around instantly at the sound of his brother’s voice. He finds him standing a few feet away from him.

“Gabrielito?” Miguel says softly, feeling shocked to see him after so long.

Gabriel gives him that smile. That cheeky smile that got him in trouble too many times.

“It’s been a long time, hermano,” Gabriel says before making his way to Miguel, who finds himself meeting Gabriel halfway.

The O’Hara brothers embrace each other in the older brother’s living room. Miguel holds his much smaller brother tightly, not quite believing that this is happening. Gabriel is here.

“It’s been a long time,” Miguel agrees, still hugging his younger brother.

The O’Hara brothers pull back and Miguel can’t help but smile at his younger brother as he takes in the sight of Gabriel’s face. He doesn’t seem older despite the years.

“Miguel – it’s so good to see you again, hermano,” Gabriel says laying a hand on Miguel’s bicep. “Look at you. You look well! Though, do I spot a grey hair from here?” Gabriel teases, making Miguel frown.

“Very funny, Gabriel.”

“You know I’m just playing but if you keep going like this, you’ll start seeing them,” Gabriel warns.

“If I keep going like this?” Miguel asks, his frown deepening.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. Working all day and night. No sleep except for once a week or those random naps you take, which don’t help by the way. Your eating habits. It’s too much on your body, despite being a superhero.”

Miguel doesn’t respond. Gabriel’s face softens.

“Hermano, you can’t keep going like this. It’s painful to watch, you know. You deserve so much more from life, Mig.”

Miguel looks away. “Gabriel – you don’t know the things I’ve done.”

“I do know… and I’m not here to judge you. I could never but I’m worried about you. I’ve been for a long time. Miguel – you have so much life ahead of you. It’s painful to watch you do this to yourself. You deserve to be happy and not waste your life away working day and night because you think that’s all your life is meant for. It’s not. And I’m not the only one who agrees, by the way.”

Miguel turns his face back to Gabriel, raising an eyebrow with curiosity as his younger brother’s words sink in.

“There’s someone that wants to see you,” Gabriel says softly with a gentle smile before he nods behind Miguel.

Miguel turns around, not knowing what to expect but there they are. He finds his wife, who smiles brightly at him and Gabriella, in the arms of his variant, Gabriella’s biological father, standing there. Miguel freezes, feeling a rush of mixed emotions at the sight but it all fades away when Gabriella jumps out of the arms of her biological father and runs to him.

“Daddy! Daddy!”

Miguel feels his heart burst with happiness at the sight of her running to greet him. He drops to his knees and opens his arms wide just as Gabriella runs into him. He instantly wraps his arms around her, unable to believe that he’s holding her again. Gabriella wraps her arms around his neck, happy to see him.

“Mija,” Miguel mumbles as tears pool around his eyes, spilling almost immediately down his face as he holds Gabi close.

“Daddy, it’s okay. Please don’t cry. I’m okay,” Gabi says softly, trying to calm Miguel down but he’s unable to stop the tears and the gentle shaking of his chest as he holds his daughter once again.

“Mija,” he repeats, closing his eyes as he embraces his daughter.

“It’s okay, daddy. Please don’t cry. I hate to see you cry,” Gabi tells him, wrapping her arms tighter around his neck. “I hate seeing you unhappy. You should be happy. You deserve it.”

Miguel shakes his head softly. “Mija… you don’t understand.”

But Gabi pulls back gently, meeting her father’s eyes. “I do. I know everything – and it’s okay. You don’t need to be sorry,” she says gently, sounding much older than she looks.

Miguel’s teary eyes meet his daughter’s as the truth sinks in. Gabi knows. Miguel looks up at his variant, who stands nearby. Miguel clears his throat, feeling shame and guilt as he meets the other Miguel’s eyes. He returns his gaze to Gabi and gives her a hug before he stands up, holding her in his arms. He approaches the other Miguel, looming over him. He gives a quick glance to his wife, who nods at him, as if she knows that he needs to have this discussion first before talking to her.

Miguel looks down at his variant and gives him an apologetic look.

“Miguel – I’m so sorry for – everything,” Miguel begins softly. “I’m sorry for what I did.”

Miguel expects his variant to respond negatively. To tell him off about pretending to be the father of his daughter. For trying to live his life. For not telling the truth to Gabi. For everything else he did that he cannot bear to think about now, but his variant surprises him with a sad smile.

“I know why you did it. I understand it. And I’m not mad…” Miguel’s variant starts, meeting his eyes. “You did something for me that I’ll never be able to repay.”

Miguel furrows his eyebrows in confusion, not expecting this reaction from his variant. He feels Gabi hug him as his variant continues.

“Had you not done what you did – Gabi’s life would’ve been very different those months you spent with her. You know very well what would’ve happened,” his variant continues, alluding to the fact that Gabi turned into an orphan and would’ve been placed in an orphanage had Miguel not stepped in. “For that – I thank you deeply. And of course, for being her father,” he finishes softly, acknowledging that Miguel is Gabi’s father as well.  

Miguel nods slowly, feeling tears again but Gabi swipes them away.

“It’s okay, daddy. You don’t need to cry anymore, right, papá?” Gabi asks, turning to face her biological father, who nods. “We’re all okay here.”

Miguel nods at Gabi, holding her in his arms before he turns to his variant. “Thank you,” he whispers and his variant nods, giving him that same sad smile.

Miguel continues to hold Gabi, feeling like a weight has been taken off his shoulders. For so long he has carried shame and guilt over what he did but his variant and Gabi were forgiving of his actions. “Thank you,” Miguel whispers again, as Gabi holds him tighter, reminding Miguel how it felt to hold his child. Soft tears run down his face even when he turns to his wife who has been watching, waiting.

“I..,” Miguel trails off, not knowing how to continue for he has thought about her and their relationship a lot in the last few months.

He feels a different kind of shame washing over him. The more time passed, the more Miguel realized how differently he wished things had been. He had fallen in love too fast, wanting to fulfill his dream of having a family and he felt like he dragged her into it. He felt like he rushed her into marriage, but his wife meets his eyes with tenderness and nods.

“Miguel…” she says with a sigh. “We both made that decision. You didn’t rush me into anything I didn’t want to, but we did rush into it, didn’t we?” she asks softly with a small smile, taking his hand in hers. “We both wanted a family so badly and perhaps – perhaps we both sensed it would end soon and that’s why we held on to it so badly.”

She holds his hand and squeezes it gently, reassuringly, as she steps closer.

“I love you. And I know you love me, too… but our love was different, wasn’t it?” she asks softly. “Perhaps we could’ve really fallen in love if we had the time…” she continues. “But we didn’t and that’s okay, Miguel. I don’t hold that against you. We both wanted it badly and made the decision, so please stop carrying this guilt, okay? Miguel, por favor, live your life. For our sake,” she says softly, pausing. “Don’t you think it hurts us to see you like this?” she asks, looking at the others. “It’s painful to watch you do this to yourself. You’re so full of life, wasting it all living like this when there’s so many people out there to meet and befriend… to love. You have amazing people by you, don’t be afraid to show them the wonderful man you are.”

Miguel nods softly though the idea alone seems strange. He feels Gabi shift in his arms slightly, looking behind him.

“I just – I don’t know how to do this again. Losing you, all of you, has been too much,” he admits.

“But you haven’t lost us, hermano,” Gabriel says coming from behind, giving him a side hug. Miguel turns to look down at his younger brother again. “We’re always with you. Even if you don’t believe it or sense us, we’re always there. In every mission. In every universe. Every day and sleepless night.”

“You’re just too busy sometimes to sense us, daddy but we watch over you,” Gabi adds with her toothy smile. “We’re with you always. We visit you all the time, which reminds me - I loved my pancakes and the toys you gave me. Papá and I played a match with the new soccer ball you left for me on Dia de los Muertos. Thank you for leaving my favorite candy, too.”

Miguel cries softly and holds Gabi tighter in his arms. “You…” he attempts but is unable to finish his thought about them visiting him that night.

“We’re always with you,” his wife confirms with a smile meeting his eyes but she, too, looks behind him for a second.

He feels Gabi shift again, looking behind him. “She’s calling you,” she says softly.

Miguel dries his face with the sleeves of his shirt. “Who?” he asks, confused.

“You know who,” Gabriel says with a small smile. “You know exactly who. Miguel – you have a long life ahead of you. Make it count,” he whispers. “Leave a legacy that’s far greater than your leadership. Far greater than your duty and work. Live life, hermano. I know it’s not easy and we don’t expect you to move forward overnight but try. Try for us in the beginning until you find it in you to do it for yourself. Just try,” Gabriel says softly.

Miguel nods with tears. “I’ll try, Gabrielito. I’ll try.”

Gabriel smiles. “It’s been great seeing you, Miguelito.”

“Don’t call me that,” Miguel says but he says it with a smile.

“For old time’s sake, hermano,”Gabriel says and wipes his own tears away. “It’s been really great seeing you, but you must return now.”

“Return?” Miguel asks confused, still holding Gabi in his arms.

“You’ve been away too long, daddy. You must go back now. It’ll be alright,” Gabi says with a smile.

Everyone turns to look behind Miguel. He doesn’t know what they keep looking at.

“I don’t want to leave…” Miguel says softly, holding Gabi closer.

“Miguel – you must. It’s not time yet. And she’s calling you,” his wife says.

“Who’s calling me?” he asks.

His wife smiles and shakes her head. “One of the brightest people I’ve ever met, and you don’t see it, do you?”

Miguel stares at his wife before he meets the other two adults’ gazes. He realizes it. He must go. He nods slowly and holds Gabi for a minute longer, closing his eyes. Gabi hugs him tighter.

“There’s nothing to forgive but I know you need to hear it, so I’ll say it. I forgive you…  You’ll always be my dad, no matter what,” she whispers, filling Miguel’s chest with ache and love all at once.

“Mija… Thank you,” Miguel breathes out gently.

He puts Gabi down, smiling down at her. He doesn’t understand it. She looks the same age she was when she passed away, but she sounds so much wiser. Like she knows more than he does. He pats her head softly before he meets his variant’s gaze.

“Thank you again…”

His variant nods, giving him a gentle smile.

Miguel’s eyes turn to his wife, who’s already looking at him. She nods softly.

“We’ll see you when it’s your time,” she says before she takes his hand again, giving it a soft squeeze before releasing it.

Finally, Miguel turns to Gabriel.

“It’ll be alright, hermano. We’ll see you when it’s time. And don’t forget we’re always with you,” he says as Gabi leans on him. Miguel watches his brother pick up Gabriella, holding her in his arms. “It’s time.”

Miguel nods before he gives his brother and Gabriella a hug, wrapping his long arms around them. He pulls his wife into it, too. He ends up offering his hand to his variant, inviting him into the hug. At the end of the day, they were linked. Forever.

His variant accepts his hand and gives him a nod, joining the moment.

They pull apart a few seconds later, giving Miguel space. He stares at them as they stand side by side, his brother still holding Gabi. They smile at him and give him reassuring nods. Miguel nods just as his variant walks closer to him, separating from the group as if to talk with him in private.

“Before you go… I want to tell you that I forgive you. I forgave you a long time ago, really. I thank you for being a father to Gabi, for treating her the way I would’ve and know that in her eyes and mine, you are a father to her. I also want to tell you… that you have a chance, Miguel. Take it,” his variant says softly. “Our lives have never been easy, and you know that, but one thing I learned when I was alive was that sometimes all you need is a small purpose to keep you going,” his variant says briefly looking back at Gabi. “And I don’t mean work, for we both know what that does to us. Find the true purpose. Keep going. Live life. Accept those that wish to be near you,” he says, laying a hand on Miguel’s shoulder. “You’re worthy of it, don’t forget that.”

Miguel nods. “Thank you, Miguel.”

His variant nods, giving him a smile before he returns to the group. Miguel watches them for a few seconds.

“Go on, daddy! You must return now,” Gabi says looking behind him.

“She’s still calling you,” Gabriel adds but Miguel still doesn’t know who is calling him.

Miguel turns around. He’s no longer met with the view of his large windows facing the city, instead all he sees is a warm light. He turns back around.

“I’ll see you again, right?” he asks, quietly.

His family nods.

“Of course, and we’ll be ready for that day when it comes, hermano but that day is not today. For now, just now we’re always with you,” Gabriel says. “And I don’t mean to rush you, but you should really get back now.”

Miguel nods once again and before he leaves, he walks the short distance and gives everyone a last hug, squeezing Gabi and Gabriel tighter. He returns to his spot and nods. It’s time. He waves goodbye before he turns around to face the light. He walks into it, seeing nothing but light and when he looks behind his shoulder, he sees his family wave goodbye one last time. Miguel’s heart aches as he walks away but there’s also a lightness that he hasn’t felt in a long time.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _/\  /\  /\  /\  /\  /\  \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/

“It’s okay, Miguel,” you shakily whisper as Miguel mumbles something in his sleep.

You watch him with your tear-stained face after what happened. The last thirty minutes were overwhelming to say the least. You try to forget it for now but you’re unable to put away the worry and stress of what you witnessed. As Miguel mumbles in his sleep again, you release a shaky breath.

Miguel’s heartbeat gave up for a few minutes and all you could do was watch and call his name helplessly as the medical professionals resuscitated him. You stand by his side now, thankful but still on edge as Miguel moves his head slightly.

“It’s alright. Everything is alright,” you whisper as he moves.

You notice his eyebrows furrowing as he mumbles yet something else, but his words are incoherent. You watch as his eyes move under his eyelids before they begin to flutter as if he’s waking up. You hold your breath, as it slowly becomes apparent his eyes are opening. Miguel looks around the hospital room slowly as if trying to figure out where he’s at before they fall on you.

“Y/N…” he whispers softly.

________________________

*Translation for italicized Spanish words:* Mierda - shit Mija - my daughter Hermano - brother Papá - dad Por favor - please Dia de los Muertos - Day of the Death ___

Thank you for reading! I hope you guys enjoyed this part despite the angst. The next part will contain more fluff, promise 🥹 can we just talk about reader giving Miguel her gizmo??? 😭 I don't know why but that made me so sad and that probably sounds stupid since I wrote it but anyway... I still love Miguel ❤️

-Alondra

Tag list:

@loverlorn @saturnknows @d1lf-loverrr @eddiestitmiguelsbigdick @freehentai @arithestrawberry @scaleniusrm @haradasaya @spidermanismyfav @bitchykittenconnoisseur @thecraziestcrayon @obi-mom-kenobi @natsury-kazuki @rootin-tootin-morgan @coraline750 @edgycatx @safixiovi @sunnyx07 @nxrdamp @rorel1a @oceanstar19 @happishark @carmilla01 @somebodyelsethanyouthink @adora-but-ginger @angie2274 @vampi-amora @tired-writer04 @plzfeedmebread @shadow-pancake9 @tynakub @faretheeoscar @giulscomix @luvstuffies @coffeeauthorvibing @lauraolar14 @bl0osclues @pinkiemme @lil-cinn @mashiromochi @loveletterfrommwah @mandodinstuff @muzansucker @theleftkittycollection @kikookii @www-interludeshadow-com @holographicang3l @aisyakirmann @bucky-to-my-barnes @geraskier-thots @l3laze @yujyujj @taylorsmakingfuckingmacandcheese

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara imagine #atsv miguel #miguel o hara #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara scenarios #spiderman 2099 #atsv x reader #atsv x you #miguel spiderman #across the spiderver fanfiction #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara x you #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x y/n

[captain-mj]

You know the alien au? Do you have something like that for Korangi?

Hell yeah!! Koenig is the same species as Ghost because I'm lazy but Horangi is different. No need to read the other one

Koenig felt very ashamed of himself. But his needs were... growing. He had started to get more and more irritability. He wanted a mate. Or at least someone to fuck.

It was shameful, to need to pay like this. But he had gotten desperate.

A friend had given him the suggestion after he had bared his teeth at some innocent deer people. They had been chewing and exposing their chests and their stupid little tails kept twitching around and it got the parts of his brain that were horny and hungry all confused.

The matron showed him different pictures of pretty creatures. He saw one and felt his mouth start to water. "That one."

"Horangi. He's a bit pricey."

"Whatever he wants. I'll pay it." Koenig nodded. "I need him for three nights."

"We charge hourly."

Koenig groaned. "Fine. One night. Eight hours. Then if I want more I can just buy?"

"Yes. As many hours as you want. Though, I'm sure he could wear you out. I always suggest hourly."

"No, I need longer."

The matron paused and nodded. "Alright. I'll get the bill for you."

It was steep, but Koenig made more than enough money and didn't find many things to waste it on. This was more than worth every penny. "Can I bring him to my place? Or does it have to be here?"

"He has to stay here. He owes money and he can't leave until he's done."

Koenig felt unsettled by that, but he nodded. "Fine. I'll make do."

He let the matron know about his... requirements. She took them all down and nodded. "You'll have him tomorrow."

All of this led Koenig to this moment right here. Where Horangi was in a bed, blindfolded so Koenig could slip off his hood, and "very well" prepped. His legs were slightly spread and his hands were next to his head. Giant cat like ears with tufts on the end listened intently to Koenig walking around. His cock sat on his tummy, half hard and twitching as Koenig stared at him.

Koenig wondered if he had not been informed of their size difference. He put a hand on his hip, watching his long fingers wrap around him. Horangi was roughly six feet two inches and toned, but Koenig was large. He was on the larger size of an already large species.

One of his thick fingers, claws filed to be smooth and not sharp, slid into him. Definitely slick enough, but not good enough. He could finger him, of course, but the problem with that was his claws. Even filed, he doubted they'd be very comfortable.

So Koenig picked Horangi up like a doll and started to lick at him.

Horangi jerked and hit his shoulders. "Not even a hello first??" He stopped struggling and moaned loudly the moment Koenig's tongue breached him. He started to lap slowly, letting the sandpaper texture of his tongue tug at his sensitive body.

Koenig closed his eyes. Horangi's top half hit the pillows as the rest of him stayed in the air, legs over his shoulders. He had a sweet taste to him. Perfect for what Koenig needed him for.

Koenig continued until he dripped and seemed loose enough. Horangi had started to squeeze his thighs around his head which drove him fucking wild. His tongue pushed deeper and deeper with every squeeze before abruptly pulling away.

Horangi's legs shivered and his cock was now at full attention.

Koenig didn't want to talk. It was bothersome and unnatural. Still, he swallowed thickly. "Hello. Where is your lube?"

Horangi shivered at the way he spoke and pointed to the drawer.

Koenig retrieved it and grabbed Horangi's ankles, forcing him up and exposing his hole again.

"What are you do- Cold!!" Horangi squirmed when Koenig put a generous glob directly on to him. "A little warning."

Koenig grunted, worried if he spoke too much now he'd ruin everything. All of his blood was also rushing to his cock and he was sure if he didn't get some relief soon, he'd go insane. He poured more on his own cock and put one of his hands around Horangi's throat.

Horangi tilted his head back. "getting your money's worth huh?"

Koenig pushed in, feeling Horangi tense when the head popped in. He groaned a little, hands flying to Koenig's shoulders. His fingers searched over his shoulders, over his face, down his chest.

"Wait what ar-"

Koenig shoved more into him, whimpering at the tightness. The pressure was so intense and it was so slick. He rolled his hips to try to work his way deeper.

Horangi gasped and dug his nails in, almost immediately drawing blood. "Fuck, fuck, so big."

Koenig paused, burying his face in his neck. He pressed in tight and after a moment, resumed his rocking.

Deeper. More. His body begged for Horangi to just let him in. It was his fault, maybe he should've ignored his attraction and picked a species more compatible.

Oh dear. Horangi would probably be terrified knowing he was being bedded by such a horrid creature. Koenig would make sure he stayed blindfolded and hopefully too pleasured to think too much about it.

The subject of his thoughts chose that time to sob, back arching a little. "Sorry, haven't had this big in a while. Take what you need."

Koenig snarled loudly, making him jump in his arms. Bigger? Take anyway? He rocked faster, trying desperately to fit all of himself. He took his time, making sure Horangi wasn't in pain with each inch.

Horangi's mouth opened. Sharp teeth meant for eating fish and a nice soft pink tongue. Koenig licked into his mouth, tasting him again.

Sweet.

Finally, after so much pushing and pulling, it fit. Horangi had a small dent in his tummy and seemed half awake, though if Koenig went too still for too long, he started to rock back on him, trying to get him to move.

Koenig gripped his hips hard and swallowed hard. "I am going to pull out now. Might feel weird."

"Why?"

He answered by just starting to pull out.

Horangi groaned and whined at the feeling. There was a texture that dragged along his sensitive walls, meant for making sure there was nothing in his mate but him. That he'd be bred by Koenig and only Koenig.

Another slow push in, another slow pull out. Horangi came all over himself, sobbing. His species was so expressive.

Koenig sped up and started to seek his own pleasure. He tried to get as deep as he could, breaking Horangi down.

All his thoughts were consumed by the idea of making Horangi drunk off pleasure. Only able to sit there and take and take and take.

Horangi clawed at his back and moaned loudly. "Fuck, not so fast. Not so deep."

"Please, please." Koenig pressed his face in his neck and rutted into him. "Inside, yes? Can I come inside?"

Horangi hit his shoulders. "Fine, fine, yes. Come on." He felt Koenig shudder and finish deep inside him.

Koenig wasn't even close to done, as Horangi would be unfortunate enough to learn.

He sobbed hard into the pillows, face now pressed against it as Koenig took him from behind. He had lost count of both how many times they finished and the time. There was no possible way it had just been eight hours. It felt like months.

Torture of the sweetest kind.

“Please, keep talking to me, please.” Horangi was pretty sure he was going insane. It felt good, so good and there was nothing to ground him. Just unrelenting, uncaring pounding right into his sweet spot. There was nothing to look at, nothing to listen to other than the sound of skin against his own and the embarrassingly wet sounds of his own body. All there was, was the sensation of touch. Even his taste and sense of smell were full of this evil, awful man who had done what many had tried but none had succeeded to do. Make Horangi beg.

As yet another orgasm was wrung out of him, he felt Koenig cum again without a word. It had started dripping down his legs, but Koenig just pushed it back into him when ever he took breaks between rounds. Koenig took breaks. He usually teased Horangi’s body with bites, nibbles and little licks over his sensitive tummy until he felt ready to continue his war path against Horangi’s body.

"Thirsty." Horangi whined out and Koenig sprung to action, quickly rearranging them so Horangi was in his lap. He brought a cup of water to his lips and helped him drink it down. "Thank you."

Koenig hummed. He seemed to lose more and more of his vocabulary as they went on. It was difficult to form words.

A knock on the door.

His eight hours were up.

He shoved Horangi down and took a good look at what he had done to him. He grunted in satisfaction and then slapped his ass lightly.

"Paying for two more days."

Horangi groaned but neither of them missed the way his ass shifted up slightly to give Koenig a better view. It was a stupid amount of money to blow on a whore. He didn’t think it was possible for him to survive the next two days, but… it was a lot of money and he doubted Koenig could keep this pace up for 48 more hours.

Right?

#Call Of Duty: Modern Warfare II #Konig #König #Horangi #Körangi #König x Horangi #Horangi x König

[thissortofsorcery]

Steve won’t admit this on pain of death, but he kinda loves it when Billy comes over.

Billy likes to make his entrances dramatic, so he either leans on the doorbell or pounds on the door like the world’s ending, even if Steve can hear the Camaro driving up from a block away and is already on his way to the door. Tonight Billy shows up after eight o’clock, bundled up in his leather jacket and a scarf and carrying a six pack. His shoulders are loose when he takes his jacket off and stamps his boots on the welcome mat, and he’s smiling easy.

“What were your plans for tonight, princess?” Billy grins over his shoulder, toeing his boots off. Steve watches his earring catch the light.

“Uh,” Steve looks pointedly at his socked feet and pajama pants, “watching TV, mostly.”

Billy shoves the six pack on Steve’s chest. “Lame. Your night just got a whole lot better, pretty boy.”

And he walks away in the direction of the living room without looking back.

When Steve gets there, Billy’s shirt is already thrown on the couch, and he’s tugging his socks off. His jeans are undone. The curtains are already open to reveal the backyard, steam rising from the still surface of the pool.

“Billy, no.”

“C’mon, Harrington, don’t be a pussy,” Billy says, pushing his jeans down his thighs with some difficulty. They’re tight. Steve’s not watching the denim catch on the fine golden hairs adorning his skin, his eyes are not tracing the soft skin of his inner thighs.

“You were wearing a scarf when you came here,” Steve says, picking up a discarded sock and throwing it in Billy’s face.

“So we’ll run to the pool.”

“You can run to the pool, I’m staying right here,” Steve flops down on the couch and picks up the remote, sets his jaw to stubborn and stares at the TV.

Then Billy’s crotch is is front on his face. His undone pants, belt hanging on the loops, red underwear peeking from underneath blue denim. Shameless. Entirely unaware of what it does to Steve.

“Come ooooooon,” Billy says, with that look on his face, that glint in his eyes that Steve’s familiar with. He knows how this is going to end before Billy finishes speaking. “Where’s your fire, King Steve? Live a little.”

Steve gets to his feet. Billy sways back, but his feet don’t move. They’re inches apart. Steve can feel his heart beat in his ears, the tip of his fingers. Billy’s eyes are boring into his own, big and blue.

Somehow they always end up here. Standing close enough to touch, but not touching. Always stepping away first.

Billy’s radiating heat, always is, warm and inviting, and Steve’s skin tingles when he touches two fingers to the center of Billy’s chest and pushes.

“Race you,” he says. And he trips Billy.

Billy doesn’t fall, but he catches himself on the arm of the couch, and that’s enough time for Steve to get his sweatshirt off and run halfway to the door.

“Motherfucker,” He hears Billy swear behind him, and barks out a laugh, then Billy’s yanking him back and pulling the door open, running ahead in his underwear.

Steve doesn’t know which one of them jumps in first, it’s more like they push each other in. It’s all elbows on ribs on the way back up, trying to shove each other under for another second, and they both break the surface laughing, water streaming from burning nostrils.

They horse around in the pool for a while, dunking each other and being dumb, until they realize they left the beer in the living room. Billy pulls himself out of the pool, shuddering when the cold air hits his skin.

“Fuck,” He shouts, and Steve laughs, swimming backwards away from the edge.

“Your idea, man.”

“Fuck!” Billy shouts again, running back outside with the six pack, which he dumps beside the pool before cannonballing in.

Billy pushes his wet bangs out of his face when he comes up, and grins at Steve with his tongue out, “Can’t believe you were going to mope in front of the tv all night, man. It’s Friday night.”

“As opposed to what?” Steve laughs, “Is there a party I wasn’t invited to?”

“Nah, that’s tomorrow. But my calendar was open tonight and I thought I’d save you from boring yourself to death.”

“Hot date blew you off or something?” Steve asks, unconsciously moving closer. He and Billy are floating close together, swaying with the water. It feels natural. Feels right. Being this close to Billy, being warm from his proximity, not just from the warm water of the pool, it makes his stomach flutter, makes his breath hitch.

“Or something,” Billy says, and his voice is low. The air feels charged with something, and it’s not the first time Steve’s felt pulled in by Billy, like there’s something buried in their chests tugging them close. They keep coming together, and then somehow falling apart, again and again, like ocean water lapping at the shore.

Billy’s right, though. Steve was bored, flicking through channels, contemplating making food or jerking off just for something to do, until Billy walked through the door. Now he hasn’t stopped smiling since.

Billy’s smiling right back, that wide, toothy smile that Steve gets when they’re alone. He hasn’t pulled away yet.

“Well, I’m flattered to be your second choice,” Steve says, flicking water on Billy’s face.

“Not what I said,” Billy says, splashing him harder.

Steve splutters, laughs, and wipes a hand down his face. When he opens his eyes, Billy’s floated even closer.

“Then what did you say?” Steve asks, licking chlorine off his lips. He watches Billy’s eyes track the movement, sees the hunger in them. Recognizes the way of the water. It’s about to pull back.

Something in him breaks, and he can’t let it. Can’t bear it if Billy cracks a joke and swims away.

Steve’s hand comes up to rest on Billy’s jaw, and Billy’s eyes go wide. He’s looking at Steve like he lost it, like Steve’s brain finally leaked out of his ears and left only stupid behind, but Steve has never been more sure of anything in his life. He’s not mixing his signals, here.

Steve runs his thumb on Billy’s bottom lip, says his name, Billy, in a murmur, and Billy leans back, uncertain. His eyebrows are pulled together in a frown, something almost aggressive if Billy didn’t look so confused. Any other time, Steve could misinterpret this, but his thumb is on Billy’s lip and he can feel the way his breath is shaking.

Steve kisses him.

Billy’s mouth is slack, open in confusion, so Steve only catches Billy’s upper lip between his own, and it’s just like Steve imagined it, soft and supple, tasting like cigarette smoke. Steve pulls back a bit, and he was just going to kiss him again, really, but Billy suddenly surges up, closing his mouth around Steve’s, pressing them together from chest to thigh.

All thoughts are gone from Steve’s mind, then, and he can only focus on Billy, Billy, Billy, and the way his skin feels where they’re touching, slick from the water, and the pull of Billy’s fingers tangled in his hair, and the weight of Billy’s thighs when they come up to bracket his hips underwater.

When they pull away, breathing heavy, Billy’s looking at him with soft wonder, like he can’t quite believe what just happened. So Steve kisses him again, and again, on the lips, on the cheek, on the corner of his mouth.

“Steve,” Billy says. It’s the first thing he’s said in a while.

“Yeah?” Steve pulls back to look at Billy, waits for him to elaborate. But Billy doesn’t say anything, can’t seem to decide on what he wants to say or ask, just keeps chewing on the inside of his cheek and frowning more deeply by the second.

“Hey,” Steve says, bringing them together again, hands on Billy’s chest. “I really like you.”

Billy looks up at him them, “Yeah?”

Steve nods.

“I kinda love it when you come over,” Steve admits, trailing his cold nose along Billy’s wet cheek. He feels Billy shudder under his hands, feels Billy’s fingers squeeze his waist, and rubs his own hands up Billy’s arms to his neck. Cups his face. Kisses him again. “Love it when you’re here.”

Billy opens his eyes with a laugh, a huffy, weak one that feel real nonetheless, “Shut up. You’re a sap.”

Steve watches Billy’s eyes flick to his mouth, wide and round, like he’s thinking of kissing him again. He doesn’t move to do it, though. That just won’t do. Steve places a kiss on the corner of Billy’s mouth, another on the dead center of his lips, and feels the air move when Billy takes a sharp breath, like they’re sharing air.

Then one of Billy’s hands is coming up to fist his hair, yanking a moan out of his mouth along with it when their lips part. Steve can feel it in the way Billy presses his body close, a burning line of heat even under the water, the way Billy holds him tightly, the desperation in his grip, the longing in his teeth where they bite down on his lip.

Billy wants this as much as Steve does. He just won’t let himself believe he can have it, but it’s fine. Steve can convince him, one kiss at a time.

#I FINISHED IT #harringrove #billy x steve #harringrove fanfiction #harringrove ficlet #harringrove fic #billy hargrove #steve harrington #mine #sorcery writes

[blairrwaldorfs]

Is It Over Now?

Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: Fake dating your flatmate, Joe, should be a simple thing. It meant you get to help get his ex back, and it meant you get to stop your parents' nagging about bringing someone home for once. But what happens when fake dating turns into something unexpected? Now, what?

Author's Note: Part 3! :)

Disclaimer: 18+

Wordcount: 4.3K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five - part six - part seven - part eight - part nine - part ten

You really should do something about your ceiling.

It looked dusty, and you found a spiderweb on the corner of it. You have been staring at your ceiling all morning, trying to comprehend if you really did agree to that stupid idea Joe had. You have been telling yourself to get out of your room and talk to Joe and let him know that you weren’t thinking straight. That you were just pissed off at your mum for being so annoying last night that was why you said yes to it. But how come you couldn’t do it? Was there some part of you wanting to do this because not only you felt bad for Joe but also because you knew it would finally get your parents off your back?

This was wrong. You would be lying to everyone. 

You needed to go talk to Joe about this and let him know that you were backing out of the plan. You scolded yourself for a hundredth time because you just wouldn’t move from your bed at all. Finally letting your body lead you, you swung your legs over the bed and let it touch the cold wooden floors. However, discussing this to Joe wasn’t the reason why you finally got up from your bed. You grabbed a pair of leggings, a jumper, and socks and put them on. Grabbing your keys and your cap, you quietly walked down the hall and slid on your trainers and quietly walked out the door, closing the front door behind you. 

You needed some air and knowing the fact that Joe was just down the hall from you was making your brain go a little more crazy than usual. You were just relieved that he was a heavy sleeper because then, he would probably have woken up from your silent footsteps. A conversation with him about last night’s agreement wasn't something you wanted to talk to him about right now. Walking out of your flat building, you were greeted by the cold winter air. 

As you started jogging around your street, you started to think about how it wasn’t even as cold as it usually was in London. It didn’t even snow all December, and the holidays felt different this year without the snow. Climate change truly was changing the weather of this city. 

Really? Were you really thinking about climate change right now?

You couldn’t help but chuckle at yourself for trying so hard to put your mind somewhere else just so you couldn’t think about your current problem.

After running a few more blocks, you stopped by at a small coffee shop to buy yourself some coffee and take a break from trying hard to push your thoughts away, which didn’t even help at all. Entering the coffee shop breathless, you were greeted by the delicious aroma of coffee and fresh warm pastries. You ordered yourself a cup and a small pastry before settling on the corner by the window. Your airpods stayed in your ears as you continued to listen to your music and drank your coffee. 

Your eyes studied the people walking by the shop and watched a couple enter, holding each other’s hands. You then realize how the fuck were you going to do this with Joe? You weren’t an affectionate person nor know how to be affectionate with someone. You could barely do that with your friends and now, you have to play pretend with Joe? As his fake girlfriend? To make things worse, you weren’t an expert in relationships either, so how were you going to make sure that you were going to put on a good show as Joe’s fake girlfriend? The thought of Joe having to put his hand on you and kiss you made you cringe, sending shivers down your spine. 

Ohmygod. You couldn't do this.

You couldn’t help but cringe again at the thought of you having to pretend that you like him like that. If you were going to do this, you might just do more damage than do more good in this agreement. All these thoughts started messing with your head even more. It made you settle on a decision. 

You couldn’t do this. 

Joe would just have to deal with the fact that it was over with Ivy. Joe just needed to accept that. 

Drinking the rest of your coffee and walking out of the coffee shop, you told yourself that you have made up your mind and that you were gonna go straight home and let Joe know that this agreement was over. You just have to explain to Joe that you weren’t thinking well last night and that was why you agreed to it, and you still thought this idea was stupid and ridiculous. 

“Shit.” You cursed under your breath when you felt your phone buzzing in your back pocket. 

You were almost back to your building, and your mother had to call you, didn’t she? 

You honestly didn’t want to talk to her, thinking that Alex guy might just be with her again, but your phone kept buzzing as you let out a sigh and answered the call.

“What is it, mum?” Your voice sounded annoyed already.

“You couldn’t just hang up on me like that!” Your mum scolded you. “That was rude and it was rude to Alex!”

“Mum! I’m 28 years old for fuck’s sake!” You exclaimed through your phone as the person who just walked by gave you a weird look. 

“Well, forgive me if I was just trying to help you!” Your mum argued back. “You aren’t getting any younger. Stop messing around and get settled for once!”

Your heart started beating fast as you felt yourself getting frustrated again. You swore if someone would take your blood pressure whenever you talked to your mum, they would probably worry about how high it would be. You walked towards your building, grabbing your keys from your pocket and started unlocking your front door. 

“I’m not a baby anymore, mum!” You barked. “I know what I’m doing. I’m perfectly happy being single and I don’t need anyone in my life.”

You shook your head, hung up the phone and entered your flat. You found Joe sitting on the sofa, watching TV as you kicked off your shoes and set it to the side next to the front door. Joe looked over his shoulder and a smile tugged on his face the moment he caught the sight of you.

“There you are!” Joe announced, lowering the volume of the TV.

“Not now, Joe.” You stated, walking straight down the hall and into your bedroom. 

Joe furrowed his brows as he saw the pissed off expression on your face and turned the TV off before following right behind you. He found you sliding your coat off and throwing it on your bed as you took a deep breath and tried to calm yourself. 

Joe stood by your doorway and leaned against the doorframe and asked, “Are you alright?”

“Fine.” You murmured, sitting at the edge of your bed, exhaling another sharp breath. 

“Something happened?”

You shook your head, scratching your forehead softly. “Just my mum pestering me about getting into a relationship or getting married already.”

Suddenly, the offer you made to Joe just made sense in his head. “Is that why you asked me to be your fake boyfriend? So, they could stop bothering you about this?” 

You nodded your head, no words needed to be explained because Joe could already see how frustrated you were. He wondered how many times has your mum mentioned this to you. Joe thought too many times if you looked like you were about to just jump off your window from that phone call. 

Gazing up to him, you cursed to yourself that you changed your mind again and wasn’t going to back out on this plan. It seemed like every time you wanted to say no to Joe, the universe found its way to give you a reason why this ridiculous agreement should happen. 

So, you gave in.

“Well, don’t worry, we’ll put on a hell of a show for them.” Joe gave you a playful smile. 

You chuckled softly and nodded your head. You couldn’t believe that you were actually going through with this. But maybe, you also have lost your mind, and you couldn’t help but blame your mother again for making you crazy in the head. Maybe you got it from her. 

“Oh, we’re gonna go on our first date next weekend.” Joe added. 

Oh god, here we go. 

“Um…” You nodded your head and cleared your throat. “Is this… like an event or just a casual date?”

“Just a casual date at her favorite pub. I heard from friends that she’ll be there celebrating her new modeling contract.”

You nodded your head in understanding. Looking at Joe, you kept thinking to yourself that this man had truly lost his mind over Ivy but then again, you agreed to this crazy idea, so who were you to judge? Does love really make people do crazy shit like this? Or Joe was just obsessed with getting Ivy back? Either way, you knew in your heart that there was no way you would do something like this for a person who didn’t want you anymore. Especially, if they were acting like the way Ivy was. 

“D…Do I need to wear something fancy?” You asked. 

“No,” Joe shook his head. “Just wear something that you would wear on a pub date.”

Well, at least you didn’t have to worry about something extravagant this time. Joe did promise he would buy you those dresses and shoes when it came to the big events. 

“Okay.” 

Joe gave you a smile, his eyes studying you for a moment. He wanted to make sure you were okay. Forget the subject of the first date for now because you still looked a bit frustrated from your conversation with your mum. Though, he had noticed how your shoulders had slowly relaxed the moment he had started talking to you about a different subject. So, Joe didn’t bother pressing or asking you anymore about it. 

The weekend didn’t come fast enough. You were stressed at work, and Joe had been out and about who knows where. He would come home late and sometimes, he wouldn’t come home at all on some nights. You didn’t mind it nor worry about him since he was a big boy and could handle himself. You wondered if he was spending his time trying to get Ivy back, or he was just with his friends. 

You stood in front of your closet that Saturday night, wondering what to wear because knowing Joe, he would want you to wear something nice. Something that could invite Ivy’s attention when you enter the room. Your long thick wavy brown hair was falling nicely on your back after you had decided to blow dry it. Your makeup was not too much, and you decided to wear your mini black dress that hugged your curves. You bought that dress a long time ago, wanting to wear it somewhere and due to the fact that you were doing retail therapy at that time. The dress still had a tag on it, and you thought maybe tonight was a good time to finally wear it. 

Sliding in your tall boots and long coat, you walked out of your room and found Joe waiting for you by the front door. Joe had occupied himself on his phone waiting for you to finish getting ready. You ran a little late because you couldn’t figure out what dress to wear, and you didn’t want Joe telling you that you looked too casual to make his ex-girlfriend jealous. 

However, his reaction towards you was unexpected the moment he heard the heels of your boots clicking from down the hall. Joe immediately forgot what he was looking at on his phone as his eyes widened, and you could see that his jaw literally dropped on the floor. Joe had only seen you in sweats when you were at home or in your work clothes. He thought that you probably have dressed up like this before, but he just never paid attention. 

You tilted your head and side eyed Joe as you snapped your fingers in front of his face. 

“Hello? Earth to Joe?” You laughed softly.

Joe snapped back to reality as he blinked his eyes a few times and saw a playful smile tugging on your lips. You saw that look that Joe was giving you, and you couldn’t help but chuckle. You sort of enjoyed seeing his reaction like this. 

“Y…You look great.” Joe stumbled in his words. 

You saw how Joe’s eyes studied you, and you ignored the fact that he was practically drooling over you, thinking how men were so easy to get on their knees with a little dress and makeup.

You walked around him and said, “Let’s go?”

Joe nodded his head, still trying to find words in his brain as you walked out of the door. The whole way to the pub, there was a comfortable silence between you and Joe, and your mind had been running a thousand miles, hoping that tonight wouldn’t be so bad. You didn’t actually know what to do once you arrived at the pub. Would you hold his hand? Would Joe hold yours? Should you make the first move? You didn’t know what to do, and you kept reminding yourself that this was all pretend and that all you had to do was act like you were really into Joe. 

But that was the problem, right? You were a fucking chemist. Not a goddamn actor like Joe. All of this wasn’t in your category at all and all you wanted to do was jump out of the tube and go straight home. What if you actually jump off this tube on the next stop? Would Joe care? Maybe he wouldn't pressure you into doing this plan if you say no. It was Joe. He was nice and understanding, right? 

God, you were really losing your mind. 

Upon arriving at the busy pub, your eyes immediately found Ivy at the back corner of the place, and you immediately jumped as soon as Joe put his hand on the small of your back. 

You still needed to get used to this touching thing. 

“Sorry.” You whispered at Joe, leaning a little bit towards him. 

“Please let me know if you’re uncomfortable.” Joe whispered in your ear, which seemed to catch Ivy’s attention. 

Uncomfortable? 

This whole thing was uncomfortable. 

But this was your decision too! You did this to yourself, and you were here. There was no backing out now. 

“I’m fine.” You replied. “Just need to get used to it.” 

“Let me get you a drink.” Joe led you towards the bar, pulling out a stool for you as you settled yourself. 

Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad. At least you knew that you were going home tonight and would be sleeping in your bed. Not Joe’s, or anyone else’s. 

But even if your back was turned towards Ivy, you could feel her glare burn at the back of your head and as soon as Joe handed you a glass of martini, you immediately drank it, letting the alcohol burn your throat. Joe stared at you for a second, a small smile tugging on his lips as he settled himself next to you. 

“Are you okay?” Joe asked. 

“Fine.” You nodded your head and ordered yourself another glass. “Looks like she’s just going to stare at me all night, hoping I’d die with her glare.”

Joe drank his pint of beer, side eyeing Ivy for a second before turning back to you. “Just let her be for now.”

He could tell that you were a bit nervous, so he tried to change the subject so that you weren’t so focused on Ivy. She wasn’t his priority right now. You were. He was the one who dragged you into this mess and seeing Ivy at the corner having fun with her friends, Joe’s mind was starting to think if this was such a good idea. Maybe you were right. He really was mad for making up this idea in the first place. 

“So, how come you don’t want to have a boyfriend anyway?” The question that Joe asked you made you almost choke on your drink. 

Joe couldn’t help but laugh softly, handing you a napkin. He hasn’t seen you this nervous before. Actually, he hasn’t seen you like this at all. You weren’t the only one who was sort of nervous because Joe could see the confidence that radiated through you the moment you had slipped on that dress tonight. It was like a whole different person sitting in front of him right now. Not his flatmate that he’d watch TV and eat pizza with on a Saturday night. It was you. The real you that he didn’t really see much because he was mostly out of town all the time. 

“Oh?” You laughed. “Is this what we’re doing? Are you going to pull that same card my mum does with me?”

Joe couldn’t help but throw his head back a little, letting out a belly laugh. He shook his head and took a sip of his drink. 

“I’m serious.” He stated. “How come? I mean you’re funny, pretty, kind… I’ve seen some guys in and out of the flat sometimes but they were never serious?”

You shrugged and drank your martini and said, “It’s fine that way. Just a bit of fun. That’s all.”

Joe pursed his lips as he tried to figure you out. For some reason, he couldn’t seem to understand you, and you could see how he was struggling at it too. You laughed softly, nudging him on the leg with the tip of your boot. 

“Stop that.” You implied. “It’s not that serious. I just like it that way. That’s all.”

You made sure that you were sticking to that reason, but Joe didn’t believe you at all. Your eyes were saying something else, and he just couldn’t figure out why, but he didn’t force the subject. He just let you believe that he believed the words that you were telling him. 

“How about you? Why Ivy? Why can't you just let this one go?”

Joe shrugged and looked over his shoulder to see Ivy laughing with her friends, opening a champagne bottle. The truth was that hearing your question out loud made Joe realize he didn’t even know why he wanted to chase Ivy so bad. Was it because she challenged him? Kept him on his toes? But he didn’t even like that. He didn’t like how Ivy would act up, so she could get his attention. Hearing your question, he now started questioning himself if he really had gone too far. If Ivy also had gone too far with her acts that it made him act like this. 

“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “I just really like her.”

Plain and simple answer. Even though he didn’t know if that was the truth anymore.

You nodded your head and ordered the both of you another round of drinks. You tried to understand why Joe really wanted Ivy back because ever since you both arrived at the pub, she hadn't even paid attention to him. Sure, she would look from time to time, but it seemed like she wasn’t even bothered that you were with Joe. This was the woman that was jealous of you. One of the reasons why she broke her relationship with him. You wondered if there was another reason why she didn’t want Joe anymore. A reason she never told him. 

As the night went on, you learned more things about Joe like how much he struggled with his job sometimes because of the media and his fans. 

“Not that I don’t appreciate or love my fans.” Joe sighed. “It’s just that sometimes, it would be nice to have my own privacy.” 

“Yeah, I’m sure it’s not fun having your picture taken from a distance and then strangers talking about every move that you make.”

Joe scoffed, drinking his beer. You weren’t the only one who was learning more about Joe because Joe was also learning that you have a younger brother that was two years younger than you. One year of being his flatmate, and he didn’t even know that about you. You talked about how he got married too early with his high school sweetheart but ended up in divorce because she cheated on him. Told Joe that he was also unlucky in relationships and even if your parents were still together, you knew that one of these days they would end in divorce too because of how much they fight. 

Little by little, Joe was now starting to understand you. Understood why you said what you said earlier about relationships. You never really been in a healthy one nor had seen one in your life.

What a shame. He thought. You deserved better. 

Not that his current relationship with Ivy was healthy too. Maybe you both needed to learn to be in one. 

As you took a sip of your—probably— fourth glass of martini, you watched as Joe’s eyes shifted towards Ivy at the corner of the pub. Looking over your shoulder, you saw how she was now flirting with a random man, and she wasn’t just flirting. She was touchy too. Her eyes would linger on Joe from time to time, and you could tell that she was doing this to piss him off, and you could tell that it was working because Joe was now clenching his jaw as he drank the rest of his beer and ordered another one. 

Getting up from your seat and feeling a little looser now that the alcohol was the only thing running in your blood, you stood between Joe’s legs, your hands on both his shoulders. Suddenly, Joe’s chocolate button eyes widened as he gazed up at you. He didn’t know what was going on or what you were doing, but he could tell that it was working. Ivy was now staring at the both of you. 

You leaned in and whispered in his ear, “Sitting here isn’t going to make her jealous.” You gazed down at Joe and said, “Kiss me.”

Joe stared into your eyes for a moment before crashing his lips onto yours. You kissed him deeply, running your fingers through his curly hair as Joe’s hands found your hips and pulled you close to him. Both lips moved together, and you didn’t stop. His soft lips made your stomach turn in a good way, and Joe kissed you like he was hungry for more. You didn’t know what it was or what feeling that you were feeling at the moment, but you were also hungry for more as you continued to kiss him deeply, pulling him closer as if there was still a huge distance between the two of you. 

Your heart was beating fast, and you pulled away breathless, setting your forehead on his, staring into his eyes. This was all pretend. You reminded yourself as your eyes shifted to Ivy, who was now leaving with her friends and with the random man she was flirting with. As soon as she was out of eyesight, you took a step back and grabbed your drink, drinking the rest of it. Turning back to Joe, he sat there staring at you because what the hell was that? That was one hell of a kiss, and you were standing there in front of him acting like nothing happened? Like that kiss just didn’t happen? That maybe you were the actor because he, an actor himself, couldn’t even comprehend that what just happened was fake. 

“What? She never kissed you like that before?” You teased him.

Joe picked up his drink and murmured through the edge of his glass, “Or anyone before.”

You heard what Joe said crystal clear, and you held in your smile as you pretended that you didn’t hear it. If you were being honest to yourself, you were sort of proud of what just happened.

“You’re not going to go after her?” You asked. 

Right, Ivy. 

Joe snapped back to reality as he looked over his shoulder and saw Ivy leaving, but he didn’t move from his seat. He stayed. He stayed there with you. 

He chose to stay with you.

“No,” He said with confidence in his voice. “She’ll call or text me later.”

You nodded your head and didn’t say anything else. Both of you ordered one more round of drinks before finally leaving the pub since Ivy wasn’t there anymore. There was no more reason for you two to be sticking around. The plan had already worked, and she would call Joe tonight or tomorrow and maybe, this whole thing didn’t have to go on for too long because you also couldn’t help but think about that kiss. 

Arriving back to your flat, you slid off your boots and made your way towards your bedroom with Joe following behind you. 

“Hey,” Joe’s voice was soft as he gently grabbed you by the wrist. “Thank you for tonight.” 

You gave him a tight lipped smile and said, “You’re welcome. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

Letting your wrist go, Joe watched you enter your room, closing the door behind you as you exhaled a sharp breath. It was only the first date, and you were terrified of what was going to happen for the next one. Laying on your bed that night, you stared at your dark ceiling, your index finger gently brushing your soft lips. Your mind replayed that kiss you and Joe had earlier, and that terrifying feeling started creeping up in your stomach again. 

Pushing the thought away, you kept repeating to yourself that this was all an act.

Fake. 

Faux.

It was all just pretend. 

Taglist:

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[poledancingdinos]

Hostile Territory - Chapter 21

Pairing: Captain Syverson x OFC (Leah Coleman)

Word count: 2.4K

Warnings: none for this chapter

Catch up: Series Masterlist

Taglist: @amberangel112  @utterlyhopeful-fics  @marantha @kebabgirl67  @littleone65 @omgkatinka @luclittlepond @persephonepraxidikechthonios @enchantedbytomandhenry  @narnianaos  @geralts-yenn @peaches1958 @avengersfan25 @sillyrabbit81 @summersong69 @identity2212 @liecastillo @lena-banena @mrsevans90 @confessionbrain-writings @eclecticfashionbookszipper @happydistraction @hannah9921 @valacircareads @toooldforobsessions @kingliam2019

Day 204

“Leah! Where the hell are you?”

Without warning, the door to Leah’s bedroom was pushed open, startling both Leah and Sy awake. Instinctively, Sy reached under his pillow, which was devoid of his usual handgun, while Leah sat up so fast she almost slipped off the edge of the bed.

“The hell, Caleb?”

“Shit, my bad.”

Though he was apologizing—sort of—Caleb made no move to leave. There was really no need to avert his gaze either since Leah still wore her t-shirt and Caleb was no stranger to seeing in that particular outfit whenever she came back from visiting Ash but didn’t people usually shut the door when they walked in on someone?

Willing her heart rate to slow down, Leah put her head in her hands and took deep breaths.

She was home.

She was in her bedroom.

The man at the door was her brother Caleb.

The presence shifting next to her was Sy.

There was no threat.

“Fuck off,” she choked out.

Below the blankets, Sy put his arm over Leah’s lap, resting his forehead against her as he stroked her hip. To the outside eye, it probably just looked like a sleepy snuggle but hopefully it would provide Leah enough comfort to pull her away from her impending anxiety attack. In all honesty, Sy’s heart was racing too.

Mercifully unaware of their inner turmoil, Caleb misread Leah’s reaction, mistaking her panic for embarrassment and playing it off by doing what older brothers do best.

“You’re never in bed past six and you’ve literally never brought a guy home. How was I supposed to know you’d suddenly discovered one night stands?”

Leah looked at the clock on the nightstand, noting it was half past eight. To someone working a nine to five it was still early but for someone used to working through the night or getting up for oh-five-hundred PT, it was practically a lie in.

“Right,” she relaxed back against the headboard, squeezing Sy’s arm as a silent ‘thank you’. “And what’s your reason for still standing there now that you know that I’m not alone?” she countered, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

Caleb smirked, casually crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe. “To be honest I was waiting to see how long it would take before your boy toy gets uncomfortable and leaves.”

Sy scoffed as he turned over, stretching an arm above his head and shamelessly showing off his bare chest. “I’ve had to shower in a room full of naked strangers while someone counted how long I had to scrub each part of my body. I’m not gonna get uncomfortable.”

“Yeah, and I’m a doctor but that doesn’t mean I need to see your morning glory.”

Leah looked down to realize that Sy’s change of position onto his back had shifted the blankets aside, revealing the tented top sheet. Holy shit. She knew for a fact that he was wearing underwear and yet it was still visible enough for Caleb to notice from the doorway.

Sy still didn’t seem bothered—and really, he had nothing to be ashamed of—but he nonetheless moved the blanket to cover his manhood.

“Was there a reason you came barging in here?”

Caleb turned his focus back to his sister. “We’re having a bonfire tonight. I got someone to cover me for tomorrow so I get to drink more than one beer for the first time in forever.”

“If you drink more than one beer you won’t make it past ten you old grandpa.”

The man in question gasped in mock outrage, clutching his imaginary pearls. “Well, it seems you need a lesson in respecting your elders, young lady. And while we’re at it, a reminder that premarital sex is a sin.”

Caleb made a move towards the bed and Leah quickly climbed over Sy in an attempt to get away, managing to knee him in the ribs as she did and eliciting a small grunt from him. Unfortunately, her brother was too fast, managing to catch hold of her before she escaped the room and throwing her over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes.

He marched her into the hall bathroom, starting the shower on its coldest setting before stepping them both under the freezing spray.

Leah shrieked like a banshee, not feeling the need to hide her discomfort or appear tough for her big brother. She couldn’t attempt to wriggle out of the hold, not unless she wanted him to slip and crack both their skulls open.

“I’ve learned my lesson, put me down!”

Both of them shivered violently, their skin covered in goosebumps, but Caleb was committed to his little punishment.

“I don’t think so. I need to wash away your sins.”

Leah didn’t bother arguing that she and Sy hadn’t actually had sex. It wouldn’t have mattered since neither sibling actually believed premarital sex was a sin. It had simply become an inside joke between them because of the way their grandparents had abandoned their parents.

“I’m clean! Now put me down!”

Her brother simply hummed as if he were considering whether she was, in fact, purged of her sins.

“Caleb!”

The water finally shut off and Leah was unceremoniously deposited back on her feet. At least Caleb was kind enough to take a clean towel from under the sink, draping it over Leah’s shoulders before pulling his own off the drying rack.

“The guys are meeting us at the cabin at two to set up.”

With that, he left the room to go change, leaving wet footprints behind. When Leah looked up, an amused Sy stood in the doorway, having apparently taken the time to find a clean shirt and shorts instead of coming to her rescue.

“You look like that girl that climbs out of the TV to kill people.”

Easily imagining what he meant with her soaked strands loose around her face and the long shirt sticking to her skin, Leah joined in on the laughter. She didn’t miss the way his gaze slid down to her hardened nipples peeking through her shirt. Thankfully, it was dark enough not to be completely transparent.

Sy moved into her space, wrapping the towel tighter around her shoulders and rubbing her arms to give her more heat.

“Your lips are blue,” he said as if feeling the need to explain why he was crowding her space. She hadn’t realized until then how badly her teeth were chattering.

“I should get some dry clothes and get back in the shower. I need to clean my tattoo anyway.”

Sy nodded, not making any move to back away.

“You can use the bathroom downstairs if you want to clean up. Caleb can find you a towel when he’s done changing out of his scrubs.”

“What exactly am I cleaning up for? I heard ‘bonfire’ and ‘cabin’.”

Leah moved closer to Sy, stealing more of his body heat. “We have this cabin about a half hour out of the city. Our dad was thinking of setting up a dog rescue on the property before he…” Leah trailed off, clearing her throat. “We always used it for bonfires and parties since there are no neighbors.”

Sy did his best to mask his deception at spending yet another day sharing Leah’s attention. At least he would get the evening to make up for the poor first impression he’d likely made with Caleb. No one wanted to meet their little sister’s boyfriend while he was half naked in her bed, much less while sporting morning wood.

“Alright, that sounds like fun.” He placed a kiss on Leah’s forehead. “Now go get warmed up, darlin’, and I’ll see if I can put together something to eat.”

When Sy got downstairs, Caleb was sitting at the table, scrolling through his phone with a mug of coffee.

“Can I get in on that?”

“Shouldn’t you be gone by the time she gets out of the shower?”

Although he didn’t sound hostile, Caleb was definitely playing up the ‘big brother’ act. Not one for bootlicking, Sy decided to go on with his plan to make Leah breakfast while Caleb got used to his presence. It had worked on Aika, surely humans weren’t too different.

“Nope, I ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

He went over to the fridge, thankful to find a fresh carton of eggs and a loaf of bread.

Caleb set his phone down, leaning back in his chair as he studied Sy. “Who are you again?”

“I’m—” He almost introduced himself as Captain Syverson but caught himself at the last second. “Sy.”

The younger man continued to watch as Sy opened almost every cabinet in the kitchen, pulling out what he needed from each. He’d found the plates and bowls by the sink, the mugs above the coffee maker and the spices in the pantry but he still couldn’t locate a frying pan.

“Psy as in psychic?”

“As is short for Syverson.”

Finally, Caleb stood from the table, going over to the stove and pulling open the drawer to reveal three different frying pans.

“You’re her CO,” he stated, the tone of his voice taking a complete one-eighty. “Heard good things about you from Niki.”

“Was that before or after I dropped a building on him?” The snarky comment slipped out before Sy could think better of it. He still hadn’t forgiven himself for that incident.

“After actually. He called from Germany.”

Although Sy had gotten an update on his injuries, he hadn’t known Niki had been moved to Germany. It was a relief to hear that Caleb had spoken to him and that he was—presumably—doing alright.

Caleb picked up the cinnamon Sy had just set down and added more of it to the egg and milk mixture Sy was preparing.

“Leah really likes cinnamon,” Caleb said in response to Sy’s unspoken question.

“Thanks.”

“So… do you always shack up with your subordinates or is it only the ones ten years younger than you?”

“Have you always been a jackass or is this something to expect now that you have the letters ‘MD’ after your name?” Both men turned to find Leah toweling off her hair. “Are you done bothering the nice man who’s volunteered to feed me?”

“Fine.” Any further argument he might have had was cut off by a massive yawn that threatened to swallow the whole room Kirby style.

“I bought decaf if you want coffee before you go to bed.”

Caleb had sent her a copy of his schedule for the two weeks she was in town so she already knew he’d just come off a twelve hour shift at the hospital.

“I already made myself a cup,” he answered, shaking his head, “I was just waiting to see if you would take my car and go get some groceries while I get some sleep.”

“Yeah, I can do that. How many are we feeding?”

There were a handful of meals they normally made at the cabin since the kitchen was only stocked with the basics so the number of guests would likely determine what she needed to buy.

“Full house.”

Leah let out a low whistle. “You do realize that you guys are not fifteen anymore and that feeding all of you plus girlfriends is the equivalent to feeding a small army?”

“Then you should be perfectly qualified for the job.”

Caleb finished off his coffee, leaving the mug in the sink before making his way over to his sister. He pulled a wad of cash from the pocket of the flannel pants he’d changed into, setting it on the table before placing a kiss on the top of Leah’s head.

“Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

With that, Caleb went up to his old bedroom, shutting the door behind him. Leah began preparing a fresh pot of caffeinated coffee, making enough for them to have at least two cups each.

“You’re not really ten years older than me are you?”

Sy stepped away from the stove where their breakfast was now beginning to cook. “Uh…” He was actually nine years older than Leah but the only reason he knew that was because he’d seen her date of birth in her personnel file. “Almost, yeah. I’m thirty-one.”

“I never realized there was that much of an age difference between us.” She didn’t expect an answer, thinking out loud more than anything, so she was surprised when Sy spoke from right in front of her.

“That’s because you don’t act like any twenty-two-year-old I know of.”

She studied his face, hoping to figure out whether that was good or bad but since Sy’s face was almost always a blank mask, Leah needed to continue with the whole ‘speaking her thoughts out loud’ thing.

“Is that a problem?”

A flash of something that looked a lot like pain passed over his face but the expression quickly faded to its usual impassiveness.

“Not necessarily.” Sy returned to the stove, flipping the slices in the pan. For a moment, Leah was hurt by his avoidance, thinking that was the full extent of his answer but then Sy faced her again, crossing his arms over his chest.

“For some people, bein’ young and stupid and makin’ mistakes is how they learn.” He kept his eyes trained on the ground as he spoke.

Leah slowly approached Sy, carefully placing her hand over the spot on his chest that was marked with the X-shaped scar. By piecing together the bits of information she’d gathered from Sy, she had determined that there was a story behind the scar but she’d never dared ask.

“Is that how it was for you?”

With a deep exhale, Sy put a hand over hers as he met her gaze. His heart was racing but her touch didn’t make him uncomfortable the way other women’s had in the past. “I’ll tell you the story but only if you promise not to use it as a reason to push me away.” 

He could all too easily picture her shutting down and thinking that he’d said all the right things but had meant none of them.

“I promise.”

With a slow nod, Sy shut off the stove, scooping the French toast onto plate and handing it to Leah.

“I was twenty-one,” he began before proceeding to recount the horrible night that most definitely qualified as the mistake of a stupid young boy.

Chapter 22

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