#gabriel x sister!reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hawkeyetrained · 1 year

Text

Hold on Kid

Dean Winchester x sister!reader

Warnings: angst, death, slight blood mention, heartbreak, let me know if I missed anything

Summary: I suck at these and if I tried, I’d probably wreck it. Hunt gone wrong is the best description I got.

Word Count: 3,999

AN: This is my first post here so be gentle. Enjoy

Life as a hunter was complicated. Naturally, you make enemies with the monsters who knew those you killed. Some wanted revenge, others hated that their kind was killed. Then, there was being a hunter and a Winchester at the same time. Not only do you make normal enemies like all the other hunters, but you make enemies simply because of your last name.

I was the baby of the Winchester family, being nearly six years younger than Sam and almost a decade younger than Dean. After the fire at their home, John took his boys on a journey across the country to hunt down the monster that killed his wife and left him and his boys without a home. He met my mom five years later and after nine months, I joined the family, only for my mother to vanish one night. John had taken me on the road with them after she disappeared, often leaving me with Bobby while he took my older brothers to hunt the simpler cases.

Despite the age difference and the fact that we were “half” siblings, my brothers were the best people in the entire world. Sam and Dean treated me no differently than how they treated each other. I was let in on jokes and taken to diners and bars with them once I was old enough to drive, often driving a drunk Dean and a tipsy Sam back to our motel for the night.

They taught me to hunt the right way. Started me off on simple cases with plenty of back up, making sure I did all the research necessary and never went anywhere alone until they were sure I was capable of taking care of nearly every monster in the book. I was comfortable fighting off nearly any monster, all but djinns.

Those creatures scared the hell out of me. I knew that Sam and Dean had faced enough of them in the past, but I was still fairly new around them and the cases involving them. The fact that they strung up their victims and essentially trapped them in their own minds was horrifying to me, and I’ve taken heads clean off vamp’s bodies.

So, when a case came up that practically screamed djinn, the boys double checked with me every hour, asking if I was ok and still good to attack once the sun went down.

“Guys, I’ll be fine. They just creep me out.” I tried calming my worried brothers. “I can manage it.”

“We never doubted you on handling it.” Sam defended gently, cleaning his gun at the table of our motel room. “We just want to make sure you’re comfortable. We don’t want anything happening to you.”

“I mean, come on kid, we just want you to be safe. I know how much these things freak you out.” Dean added to the conversation from his laid-back spot on his bed.

I sent both brothers a soft glare. “And I appreciate that. But I’ll be fine.”

_____

Flash forward to a few hours later, I was sprawled out on the top floor of the large, abandoned barn, metal rebar sticking out of my stomach and my brothers firing shots down on the floor below me. We had been wrong on our intel, it was more than just one djinn, a whole family of six popping out of the shadows when we burst in. One of the younger women had caught me by surprise, nearing stringing me up but ended with a magazine of rounds to the head.

“Dean.” I tried calling out for my oldest brother, attempting to drag myself closer to the stairs so he’d be able to hear me over the fight. “Sammy.”

Neither of my brothers were answering, my head leaning back to rest against the floor as I took in a few deep breaths. My hands shook as I placed them around the metal, making sure to not move it but add enough pressure to the surrounding skin to help stop the flow of blood. I had been taught that keeping the object in could potentially save your life, especially if it were holding an artery closed.

With neither of my big brothers answering my desperate pleas for help, I resulted in closing my eyes and praying to the angel who kept tabs on us. “Castiel.” I spoke his full name. “Dean and Sammy can’t hear me. I need help. I think I’m dying Cas.” Tears gathered in my eyes as I spoke to the angel who had become a best friend over the years. “Please, I’m so scared Cas.” No answer came from the angel, but he was busy with heavenly issues that us hunters would never know of.

After a few more strangled calls to my brothers, heavy boots finally began climbing the stairs. “Hey kid, did you manage to take them…” Dean’s voice cut off abruptly when my eyes met his. “Kid. Sammy!” Dean practically growled down the stairs, rushing the last few steps and coming to a stop beside me. “Hey, kid, you ok? What happened?”

“She didn’t like my jokes.” I tried lightening the mood as Dean pushed my hands away to take in the damage. “Everyone likes my jokes.” Dean set his blade down on the floor beside me, yanking both his jacket and his flannel off, quickly balling the shirt material and pressing it down around the metal.

A pained scream ripped through my throat at the pressure, white hot pain exploding in my stomach. “I know, kid, but we gotta keep the pressure. You’re doing great.” He turned over his shoulder. “Sammy!” His green eyes met mine then, the fear and anger flooding the bright colors that always brought me comfort. “You keep those eyes on me kid, you hear me? Keep lookin’ at me.”

I couldn’t take my eyes off him even if I wanted to. Sure, Sam and Dean were my brothers, but they practically raised me when John was out hunting. Sam was the overprotective big brother in every sense of the term. He walked me to and from classes, dropped me off for any projects that needed to be done and practically ran background checks on all of my friends at school.

Dean, he was protective but in a whole other way. While Sam took on that big brother role, Dean was basically the father I wanted. He made sure I got to do kid stuff, pulled me from school to play hooky, sat with me after bad dreams, played with me as a kid, and sat with me for my first heart break. He was the one that taught me to drive, to hunt, and to live however I wanted. I could get away with absolutely anything with Dean since all he ever wanted for me was to grow up happy and loved.

So, staring up into Dean’s eyes as blood soaked into my shirt and coated his hands, I knew I was going to be safe, no matter the outcome of this injury. Dean would take care of me until the day I stopped breathing, he had just hoped that it would be a long time after he had gone.

“Hold on kid, Sam’s coming. He’s got what we need. You just hold on.” His eyes were fogged over with tears, and he aggressively rubbed them into his shoulders to clear his vision. “Kid, talk to me. I gotta hear you talk.”

“I love you.” I managed to get out, though I wasn’t sure he heard much of it. My hands had stopped shaking and a coldness was seeping into my skin as I watched Dean’s eyes widen ever so slightly.

“No, kid you gotta say something else. OK? That can’t be all you got for me.” His left hand moved from the wound and gently brushed some hair back out of my face. “You gotta tell me this joke that the bitch on the floor didn’t laugh at. I’m sure it was your best.”

The world was becoming foggy the longer I stared into the green eyes that always brought me comfort. They mixed into the slight green tint the ceiling had from years of neglect and abuse from the weather. Dean, my big brother, who was always there for me when I needed, who would drive all day and all night just to get to me after a fight with John or Bobby about hunting. The brother who literally went through hell to save Sammy and negotiated with a witch for my life. The father I always needed and wanted in my life.

The pain in my stomach had gone numb and my hands had pretty much stopped moving all together as I watched Dean scream for Sam yet again. “Come on kid, just a little longer. You hold on a little longer kid, I got you. Dean’s got you kid.” That nickname was something he only ever used for me. It was his term of endearment to the little girl he raised. “Talk to me, please.” The last word was a heart shattering plead that helped focus my eyes for one final moment.

“I love you dad.” The line slipped from my lips half a second before my eyes got too heavy to keep open any longer and the world faded into back.

_____

Dean’s sure he never cried so hard in his life. He had lost so many people throughout his life that he was pretty used to hearing news of someones passing. But watching the color leave his baby sister’s skin, watch the light drain from her eyes, and listen to those Earth-shattering words fall from her lips as she bled out into his hands sealed it for him. He had just lost his world, his little sister that he had raised practically since she was born; he just lost his little girl.

Sam came clomping up the stairs as quick as his long legs could carry him, just not quick enough. He swore his heart stopped in his chest when he found his older brother crouched over his younger sister, blood coating the floors, and sobs racking Dean’s chest. Sam’s chest felt like someone sent a fist straight through his ribs, ripping his lungs out in the process. His knees hit the floor a few feet from where Dean was crouched over, eyes locked on his older brother’s back.

Dead’s head came to rest against his sisters, near silent pleas to wake up falling from his lips as tears dripped from his eyes. Prayers to Castiel or any angel listening following. The oldest Winchester had told himself that he would never beg for anything, never allow someone to have that kind of control over himself, but here he was, begging to the body of his little girl and to any angel listening to let her wake up, to let her live and take him instead.

The soft, unmistakable sound of fluttering wings caught both Winchester boy’s attention enough for them to turn. There stood Castiel, with his big brother Gabriel at his side, watching the young girl on the ground continue to bleed, though much slower now, through the shirt of her oldest brother.

“Cas.” Dean had locked eyes on his favorite angel. “Please, there’s gotta be something you can do.” Castiel swears he’s never heard Dean Winchester sound this broken before, never heard him plead this softly. “I can’t lose her. I can’t lose my kid.” Another wave of tears fought its way up through Dean’s chest, nearly choking him on the sobs coming from his body.

Gabriel was at a loss for words. Never had he been around the Winchester boys and not get a snappy comment or crude joke thrown his way, but here he was, looking down at two very broken Winchesters. Gabriel could sense the pain and worry coming from his brother, knowing that the younger angel couldn’t do anything for the Winchester girl. Cas had only barely begun to learn how to pull someone back when they were in the veil and looking down on themselves, not quite taken by the reapers yet. So, with the flutter of his wings, Gabriel went off to do the one thing he knew could help the two brothers.

_____

The pain in my chest was unbearable as I watched Dean cry, his hands not leaving my wound, his voice faintly pleading for me to come back to him.

“I tried to stay with you Dean. I’m so sorry I couldn’t.” My voice was barely even a whisper as I tried to hold in my tears. Sam was knelt down a few feet back from Dean, tears staining his cheeks and making his hair stick to his face. “I’m so sorry Sammy.”

Everything around me seemed to move in slow motion. Sounds muddled together and lights seemed to blur the picture before me, but that all too familiar sound of flapping wings would grab my attention any day. I turned away from my sobbing brothers to face the Archangel Gabriel himself.

“Gabe?” A crack snuck its way into my words. “Is that really you?”

“Hey there sweetness.” He winked, arms crossing over his chest. “I thought I told you to stay breathing last I left.”

I nodded, instantly running over to him. His arms opened enough for me to slot myself against his chest, tears leaking onto his shirt. His hands came to rest on me, one against my back and one in my hair, pulling me closer to his body. “What happens now?” I questioned the angel as I held tighter to his waist.

“Well, we can hang here and wait for the reaper to come take you up to heaven, or…” I cut him off before he could continue.

“Or you can take me?” I questioned; my eyes now turned to get what I thought would be the last glimpses of my brothers.

Gabriel pulled back, hands on my shoulders to get me to look at him. “Haven’t I told you to let me finish before you jump to conclusions?” I nodded against his chest and waited for him to continue. “Or I could take you back to your brothers. Let you live a little longer.”

Everything in me froze, not believing what he said to be true. “You can do that? Bring me back?” His honey-colored eyes were already looking down at me when I turned to face him. “I can go back to them?”

He simply nodded to me. “As long as you promise to keep breathing for me.” I was nodding almost instantly to his request.

“Please. Please take me back.”

_____

The whole building grew silent after Gabriel had been gone for well over an hour. Sam sat staring at the back of his brother, waiting for Dean to do something. Dean had gone still moments after the archangel vanished, hoping with all his will that a miracle would happen.

The oldest Winchester had resorted to cleaning up his little sister as best he could, pulling the metal from her body and throwing it far, far away. The bloodied shirt had been tossed out of the way as well, her shirt and jacket now covering the fatal wound on her stomach in a way to make it seem like she was just sleeping. Dean’s fingers trailed softly over her head, pushing hair from her face, and trying to memorize everything he could about the young girl before they gave her a proper hunters funeral.

Castiel had yet to move since his older brother vanished, staying still as if he were carved from stone as he watched over the two Winchester men. He listened to every sound coming near the building for a ten-mile radius, making sure nothing tried sneaking up on the two while their world crumbled around them. He had wished he heard your prayer earlier, gotten back down to Earth faster, maybe then you would still be alive and sitting with your brothers, rather than coated in blood and ghostly pale.

The flap of wings pulled Castiel and Sam from their states of grief, watching a small smile flicker across the archangel’s face. Sam had half a mind to scream at the angel before movement caught his eye.

The blood soaking the floor around the body of the youngest Winchester slowly started to vanish, seemingly seeping back into the wound on her stomach. Then color began to return to her skin, slowly transforming it from a deathly grey back to her natural pigments.

It took a moment longer for Dean to notice the changes, having been so absorbed in caring for the body of his little girl. Once his eyes noticed the changes, his hands backed up from her, almost like she caught on fire. Both Winchester brothers scrambled to their feet, backing away from the girl who was laying so still seconds before.

With one last beat of silence, the wound on her stomach closed fully and her chest heaved with a huge breath of air.

_____

The world came back dramatically. All of a sudden, I could hear the soft drops of water from the ceiling again, feel the coldness of the hard floor below me and smell the horrible damp concrete of the walls to my right. Then my eyes fluttered open, and I could see the ugly ceiling that was decaying from years of abandonment again.

My brain raced as I tried to remember what happened. The hunt, a djinn, the metal rebar, Gabriel pulled me back. I died and Gabriel brought me back. Sam and Dean, they watched me bleed out on the floor of a hunt, watched me die on a hunt they knew I was already nervous for. Dean, he had been with me, he held my hand as the pain vanished and the world fell into silence. He had been with me as I died.

My lungs pulled in one of the deepest breaths I’ve ever taken, causing me to turn and cough loudly as I took the chance to breath more air in. My brain raced as it figured out how to work again, after moments of rest and complete silence it was working to catch back up on what was going on, and the only thing it seemed to think of was…

“Dad.” The word fell from my mouth before I could even process what was going on. Then suddenly I was being hauled up to my knees and crushed into the tightest hug ever given. Everything about the person was familiar, the way the arms wrapped themselves protectively around my shoulders, hand placed to the back of my head. The soft fabric of the green jacket wrapped around shoulders, and the scent of the hunt along with something so specifically Dean. I was wrapped in the arms of my oldest brother, wrapped up and secured in his embrace, protected from anything the world could throw at us.

His chest heaved with sobs, mumbles of my name and ‘kid’ falling from his lips. “I got you; I got you kid. I’m here. You’re ok.” The words fell from his lips in a jumbled mess, falling together in a mess of letters.

“Dean.” My words came out quietly as I hugged him back with everything I had in me. I clutched onto him as my own tears fell, coating my cheeks and making stains on his shirt as I pressed my face to his chest. Feet scrambled on the floor beside us and before I knew it, Sam was crushing me and Dean in the tightest hug he could manage. “Sammy.” I adjusted one arm to be able to hold onto both my brothers, all three of us a crying mess.

It took the three of us nearly a half hour to calm down enough to stand and face the angels. Sam had stepped a few inches away, wiping his cheeks with the backs of his hands as he turned to speak to Gabriel. “I don’t even know what to say.” His words were barely strung together as he glanced back at me.

While Sam had stepped a few inches back, Dean had yet to let me go. His arm had yet to fall from my shoulders and I was pretty sure he wouldn’t let me go for the next few hours, though I wasn’t going to complain. I had turned into Dean’s side, keeping my arms around his waist and my head leaned into his shoulder, tears still damp on my cheeks.

“Thank you, Gabriel.” I looked at the angel who pulled me back. “I can’t even begin to tell you how thankful I am.” Dean’s arm tightened around my shoulders, pulling me just a bit closer to his side.

“She’s right.” Dean’s voice was deeper than usual after all the crying over the last hours. “Thank you.” Sam agreed with his brother, going over to hug Gabriel tightly.

Cas stepped a bit closer, his hand coming to rest on my cheek. “I’m glad you’re alright. The area around is clear, you’ll be safe heading back to the bunker. We will keep watch over your drive.” And suddenly, the two angels were gone with a soft flap of wings.

“Sammy, can you get the car started and give us a sec?” Dean asked his little brother, holding tighter to me if possible. Sam gave a soft nod, pressed a kiss to my head and went down to wait in the car.

Once he was gone, Dean turned sharply to me. “I’m so glad you’re ok, kid. You can’t ever do that to me again.”

Dean’s hands rested gently on my cheeks, thumbs wiping away the drying tears from my skin. “I never wanted to leave you. I tried so hard to stay with you Dean. I really did.” New tears dripped from my eyes as I looked up at my oldest brother.

“I know you did, kid. I know.” I was pulled back into his chest, his hands rubbing into my back as I cried into his shirt again. “I got you now. I’ll never let that happen again, ok? I won’t ever let anyone put their hands on my little girl again.” My fingers twisted into the back of his shirt as he soothed me, helping me calm down and relax again. “So, can I ask about the dad comment?”

A soft laugh blew through my nose. “Yeah, you can.” I pulled back to look up into the green eyes that always brought me comfort. “John was never really there for me. You know?” He nodded softly at me. “I mean, you took me to my first day of school, you taught me to drive, you were the one who was always there for me.” My voice trailed off towards the end as I watched his face slowly stiffen into an emotion I couldn’t read. “Sorry, I’ve just always seen you that way, I guess it just slipped out today.”

“Kid, I’m not mad, or anything like that.” He gently brushed a few fingers through my hair. “I’ve always seen you as my little girl. I know I was there more than dad was. I know he barely had anything to do with you. There’s nothing I want more than to be your dad, even if you just call me Dean, that doesn’t matter.” He took a deep breath. “I want to be the one you call when you need help or come to when you’re scared. I know you’re not exactly a kid anymore, but just know that I’ll always be there for you. You’re my kid.”

I didn’t even answer, just lunging forward and wrapping him back in a tight hug. “I love you, dad.”

His hands held my head to his chest tightly, a kiss being pressed down into my hair as we held onto each other. “I love you too, kid. Don’t you ever forget that.”

@thetallassgirl

#spn imagine #dean winchester #sam winchester #supernatural #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader #dean winchester x sister #sam winchester x sister #dean winchester imagine #sam winchester imagine #castiel #gabriel

484 notes · View notes

shelbgrey · 1 year

Note

Heyy!

my ask is

can i get something like the reader is gabriel's girlfriend but She is also sam and dean's little sister?

first time i ask someone🥲

greetings from hungary!🇭🇺

Thanks for the request buddie, hope it's okay this is in Headcanon form and greetings from the US🇺🇸

The Winchester and the Trickster: Gabe Headcanons

Paring: Gabriel x Winchester!Reader

Summary: headcanons on what it's like to be the youngest winchester and dating Gabe

MasterList

Your guys story starts before you even knew it did.

Gabe is your guardian angel and knew who you were for a long time. His job as your Garudian Angel is the only thing he took seriously.

If you and choose to be together you might keep it a secret at first.

Not only are you a hunter your the youngest winchester, which means the brothers are extremely over protective of you.

It took a while for you to except gabes love but you don't regret it what so ever.

He may seem like a villan to everyone else but he treats you like a queen.

After a while you and him do get cought by Sam. Gabe decided to stay over at the bunker one night after the boys went on a hunt. You both were in the middle of a heated make out sessions when Sam walked in.

Dean didn't like it one bit. He didn't trust Gabe and he sure as hell didn't want gabe around you.

Sam on the other had was questionable about it but tried to see it your way.

After a while the boys got over it and even started getting along with him.

I think him and Dean would intentionally get on each other's nerves and constantly teas each other.

Sam and him get along okay but Sam gets tired of the sarcasm.

Gabe will help out on hunts as much as possible but he's mainly there to protect you. You'll come out of a hunt without a scratch with him, that's a promise.

He never fails to make you laugh and always has you smiling.

His kisses are rough and passionate. They're usually unexpected and he isn't afraid to kiss you in front of your brothers.

You love his wings. With the gaurdian angel connection your the only one who can see his golden wings.

Be prepared for candy wrappers and angel feathers every where. Mainly in your shared room in the bunker.

He'll watch whatever show you love at the time and will always try to enjoy the music you love.

You'll qoute movies and make movie reference together all the time.

He'll go under cover with you for a hunt all the time. His favorite FBI names to use is Agent Scully and Mulder.

He's the best cuddler. You never slept well with a the anxiety that comes with being a hunter but if he's there with his arms around you, you have enough peace and comfter to sleep well.

You'll help him prank your brothers all the time. No matter the consequence it's worth the laugh.

Castiel is your best friend so be prepared for some jealousy. That's gabes down fall.

He trusts and loves you but he's afraid you'll find someone better and leave him. There's always been a part of him that thinks he's too bad for you.

That's not true. You love every part of him but he had to stop hurting your brothers before you could continue to date him.

Speaking of which. During all his torture and pranks he's pulled you were never harmed. He knew how close you a Dean were so he made sure you didn't see or remember him dying at the mystery spot.

He'd ask you to marry him but since the world always seemes to be ending you'd nevr have a big fancy wedding but your brothers and Castile help make a tine wedding special.

When Jack comes around the both of you take him and become his aunt and uncle or parent figures.

I think after everything calms down in the world you'd end up adopting Jack.

Even though it started off Rocky but everything is okay now. As long as he's around no harm will come.

That's all for now buds

#Gabriel x reader #Gabriel #Supernatural gabriel #Gabriel imagines #Supernatural imagines #sam winchester x reader #Dean winchester x reader #Winchester #Winchester x sister reader #Carry on my wayward son #Castiel x reader #Castiel #Sam Winchester #Dean winchester #Richard speight Jr #Rob Benedict

283 notes · View notes

fandomnerd9602 · 3 months

Note

Heya, so we've had Sabrina Spellman x reader, right? How about the weird sisters x sorcerer supreme!male reader?

The weird sisters approach Y/N…

Agatha: hello o great Sorcerer

Y/N: hey

Dorcas: we live to serve you

Prudence: we could tell you of your great fortune

Agatha: or we could just enjoy this moment together. The four of us.

Y/N: I would prefer your company over your soothsaying

Dorcas: we were hoping you’d say that

Each of them lead Y/N off to somewhere more private

#sabrina spellman #weird sisters #sorcerer supreme #witch x reader #chilling adventures of sabrina #abigail cowen #tati gabrielle #adeline rudolph #male Reader #x male reader #x male y/n #riverdale #marvel

40 notes · View notes

inlovewhithafairytale · 4 months

Text

I think that mutual respect is very important.

There are people who ship wincest and others that don't.

Personally I think wincest is grooms and sick cause there are brothers, and Dean is like a father to sam etc. But other people are very open minded and that is ok.

As long as we aren't pushing each other to think the same everything will go in harmonie. There are people who ship destiel and others that don't. But there is no need to go fighting against each other. Its a free world, we are aloud to believer in what we want. And also let's not forget, that even if Supernatural has been there for us for a long time. It is a fictional show the characters aren't real. And at one point ee have to accept this.

No matter who we ship and who we don't. We have one thing in common. We all love it. We all feel at home when we watch it. So again, I think that everyone gets to keep their place in this amazing app, and talk about the things that we all like. Like Bobby. And the impala. And stuff like that. We are all a big family so let's act like it.

I wish you all a great day. 💜💜💜

#supernatural family #supernatural fandom #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural x sister reader #supernatural #castiel x dean #dean winchester #dean x y/n #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester #sam winchester x sister!reader #sam winchester x reader #castiel x y/n #castiel x reader #castiel novak #castiel #destiel #bobby singer #gabriel

20 notes · View notes

ourloveisforthelovely · 1 year

Text

To the Ends of the Earth Part 21

Supernatural

Pairings: Gabriel x Reader

Rating: Mature

Summary: AU Supernatural. Gabriel is tired of Micahel and Raphael’s constant interfering and dictating what’s best for him. Little do they know that he’s been sneaking to earth to fall in love with you. When he convinces you to run away with him, all hell is about to break loose.

Link to Part 20

________

1 week later…

You lay with Gabriel on the couch snuggled against his side as some tv show played unnoticed in the background. Halfway through, whatever show it was, you closed your eyes and snuggled further against Gabriel. He placed one of his hands over yours that you had laid on his chest. Neither of you had said much in a while but the quiet cuddling was enough.

The last week had thankfully calmed down. Dean had slowly accepted that you were pregnant. You were positive that Dean had tracked Chuck down and threatened him real good about keeping you alive. When he came home Dean seemed to be in a lot better of a mood. You could only assume that threatening Chuck would bring that level of happiness.

Was Dean happy about you being pregnant…no. Something told you that your eldest brother wouldn’t be happy until the baby was born and you were alive.

Gabriel also wasn’t saying much about the baby-to-be. While you didn’t expect him to be excited, you wished he would “open up.” The best that you could assume was your lover would be like Dean. While he wasn’t as on edge as Dean was, you could still sense Gabriel’s nervousness. His eyes were always on you now. He seemed to be watching every move that you made while being totally prepared to smite whatever could harm you in the slightest.

“Maye that is his love language when it comes to the baby?”

That was the best thought that you could formulate. Gabriel had told you a few days prior that he could sense the baby’s heartbeat. The look in his eyes when he said those words and how he stroked his fingers over your still flat stomach gave you some hope as to his feelings.

Minus, the baby on the way, everything else with Gabriel was just like usual. You were thankful for that at least. If Gabriel turned off the love supply, you would have totally fallen apart. From the brief bit of the baby book that you had read (until you got to the part about birthing pictures and nearly vomited) apparently, a woman’s sex drive was supposed to increase.

“…Yep, that’s happening.”

“How are you feeling?”

Gabriel asked softly, pulling you from your thoughts. He originally didn’t want to wake you but the quiet of the room was beginning to drive him nuts. Gabriel wouldn’t say it but his anxiety went into near overdrive whenever you were quiet for long periods. Yes, he was able to check you over at any time but hearing your voice seemed to make all of his worries go away. You yawned snuggling further into his side instantly making the worry within Gabriel vanish.

“Fine. My stomach hurts a bit but I suppose that I should get used to that.”

Gabriel put a finger to your head and the sick feeling instantly vanished. He gave you a sheepish little smirk before moving to kiss your forehead.

“I guess that will be a benefit of having a baby with me. I can make all of the nasty…side effects go away.”

“That will be definitely useful.”

You replied before yawning again. Gabriel moved to stroke a hand down your back toward the waistband of your jeans.

“Before you get too comfortable…”

He started but stopped suddenly and sat up. You gave him a curious frown as Amelia came running in with a small box in her hand. It took all you had to stop yourself from smirking at the annoyed expression on Gabriel’s face. If Dean were in the room, you were 100% positive that mentions of being “cock blocked” would have come up.

“Hi, shorty. What do you have there?”

You asked, sitting up. Amelia was nearly bouncing up and down. Gabriel raised an eyebrow before smirking. The little girl reminded him so much of you it felt as if he was looking into a mirror.

“Uncle Dean got me a guinea pig! I named her Snickerdoodle!”

You instantly looked up to Dean as he stepped into the room with a shit-eating grin on his face. He gave you a small shrug before you turned back to your niece who had fished the petrified-looking animal out of the box.

“Oh, that’s nice. She’s lovely, sweetie. Does your daddy know about Snickerdoodle?”

Amelia shook her head and shoved some of her dark hair out of her face.

“I see. Maybe you should…oh look there’s Sam now.”

Sam automatically sighed. He hated that tone. He knew “that” tone. Something was up and something told him that it involved him somehow.

“I love conversations that start like this.”

Amelia ran over to Sam nearly hopping up and down with delight.

“Uncle Dean got me a guinea pig!”

Sam automatically scowled at Dean. This was the last thing that he wanted to get involved with too. Between a pregnant sister who would be giving birth to an archangel’s baby, his own child, dealing with Michael, and all of the other kinks involved with being a Winchester…Sam just didn’t have a “guinea pig” in him.

“Uh huh…he did, did he? Amelia…guinea pigs are…”

Sam tried to think of the right word. He looked up at Gabriel.

“Violent?”

Gabriel suggested, earning a scowl from both Sam and yourself. He only gave you a little shrug as Sam knelt down to Amelia.

“Sweetie, guinea pigs are a lot of work. Uncle Dean, Aunt Y/n, and I are really busy…I’m not sure if this is a good idea. Uncle Dean and I are gone a lot and Aunty Y/n is about to have a baby soon…”

Amelia gave Sam a pouty frown.

“I can do it. I am 5 whole years old.”

Dean made his way over to Gabriel with a smirk.

“This is your first real lesson on being a parent…how to cave.”

Gabriel’s amber eyes rolled over to Dean.

“If you give my child one of those rats, I may smite you.”

Dean quickly moved away from Gabriel shaking his head.

“Tough crowd.”

You rolled your eyes at Dean and Gabriel before turning back to Amelia who was clearly happy with her new furry friend. Her little face showed nothing but pure joy. You couldn’t help but smile at her. Ever since Amelia had moved into the bunker, you took extra care to find little things to bring her joy with. Something told you that Dean used the same excuse to bring Snickerdoodle home.

“Would you two get a room?”

You muttered before kneeling down next to Amelia.

“You really like her don’t you?”

Amelia nodded.

“Yes, aunty. She has a wiggly nose.”

Amelia then attempted to make her nose wiggle like the guinea pig that was nestled in her arms. Again, you couldn’t help but smile. You noticed a small smile grace Gabriel’s face too. You knew that he would never admit it but Amelia had grown on him. Whether it be the fact that she reminded the archangel so much of you as a child or Amelia just had her “own little way” you knew that Gabriel liked her presence.

You turned your attention to Sam, who still looked less than amused with Snickerdoodle’s arrival. Taking a breath, you leaned closer to Amelia.

“Maybe we can talk your daddy into letting Snickerdoodle stay. I can help you look after her.”

Amelia immediately squealed before nearly throwing the poor guinea pig up in the air with joy. You quickly reached out and wrapped your hands around Snickerdoodle and gave Sam a small smile. He groaned and shook his head.

“Fine. She can stay but I better not smell anything.”

Amelia nodded and wrapped her arms around Sam’s legs squealing about how he was the best daddy ever.

“What about me? I’m the one that bought the thing.”

Dean grumbled. Amelia quickly went over to Dean and gave him the same attention.

“I am winning that world’s okayest uncle cup.”

Dean said with a smirk as Cas stepped in. The frown on his face told you that something wasn’t well in the world. Standing up you inched closer to him as he muttered something to Gabriel.

Gabriel turned to you. The cutesy moment with the guinea pig was now shot to hell. He hated even mentioning Cas’ news to you.

“What is it?”

You asked softly. Gabriel sighed.

“My father is here with yet another surprise.”

Both Sam and Dean groaned, mirroring Gabriel’s reaction. You too felt a feeling of dread wash over you. While Chuck’s last visit brought you news of the baby…it also brought a feeling of darkness over the bunker that hadn’t 100% washed away.

“Oh boy this day just keeps getting better.”

You commented before turning to Jack.

“Jack, can you stay in here with Amelia?”

Jack eagerly nodded before sitting down beside Amelia, who clearly didn’t care about the business of adults at the moment.

You turned to follow your brothers and Gabriel into the library where Chuck stood with a smile on his face.

“I thought I would come back…”

Gabriel wrapped a hand around yours, keeping his eyes locked on Chuck.

“Please tell us that you aren’t here to bring more good news. We are worried enough about what you brought last time.”

Dean said. He knew that he would never stand a chance against Chuck but he could put his thoughts on matters out there. What Chuck did with said thoughts and opinions was up to him.

Chuck, meanwhile, felt his smile fade. Everyone was looking at him as if he would be declaring that the world would be ending. Gabriel was watching him with a cold frown.

“Gabriel, you can stop frowning. I haven’t brought anything bad…not really…”

“Forgive me for not trusting you.”

Gabriel said in a low cold tone.

“Gabe.”

You whispered, squeezing his hand. The last thing that you wanted to witness was Gabriel and Chuck having some kind of epic showdown.

“It's okay, Y/n. Nothing bad is going to happen. I’m actually here with a special surprise for you…well…I suppose for Sam and Dean too.”

Sam winced while Dean mumbled something about “that last time Chuck gave them a surprise it was resulting in you becoming some kind of fucked up science experiment.”

You bit your lip, not even daring to look at Chuck.

“You know, Chuck, you have really given us enough surprises. I mean…we have met our quota…maybe you should go…bless…someone else?”

Chuck smiled, shrugging.

“I was thinking about the predicament that you are in. Yeah, you have your brothers. While that’s special, you deserve to have your father in your life.”

You felt your mouth drop as John stepped out from behind Chuck.

“Oh shit.”

Dean muttered while John gave the three of you an exhausted smile. He didn’t seem to notice or care to notice how freaked out the three of you look.

“My kids.”

John was in front of you before you knew it. He looked down at you with a smile before pulling you into a hug. Standing motionless, you couldn’t remember the last time that John had actually hugged you. John was never the “touchy-feely” kind of father so this was totally out of your element.

“Y/n, sweetheart, look how much you have grown up.”

John turned to Sam and Dean following the same lead. Both of your brothers looked beyond uncomfortable too as John made what would typically sound like a heart felt sentiment.

“Dad, you’re alive…and here.”

Dean choked out as John hugged him. John nodded before turning to say something kind to Chuck but the man was nowhere to be found.

“Yeah, I am. I think I got another chance and I am so glad to see the three of you. The three of you stuck together…just like you should have.”

Sam cleared his throat.

“It wouldn’t be any other way.”

John turned back to you. The last time that he had seen you, you were just a young teenager. Now here you stood, a grown woman. John’s eyes landed on Gabriel.

“Who are you?”

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. He knew this was about to be a shit show.

Of course, it's a shit show. Anytime my father shows up it's a blasted shit show! Now, look what he’s gone and done.

“Gabriel.”

Gabriel said his name very matter-of-factly. He didn’t really feel like getting in an all-out brawl with John Winchester of you but something told you that it would happen very soon.

John, meanwhile, narrowed his eyes on Gabriel. While he expected that you, at some point, would choose a lover…he wasn’t expecting it to be now. Granted, part of him expected to come back and you still be a young girl.

“The two of you are together?”

You nodded, stepping closer to Gabriel.

“Yes, dad, we are. I’m assuming the guy that brought you here didn’t explain anything to you?”

John frowned, his eyebrows knitting together.

“What is there to talk about? I’m alive again.”

You groaned, mentally cursing Chuck under your breath. Of course, Chuck didn’t tell John Winchester the “truth” of everything going on in his children’s lives.

“Oh, there is a lot to talk about. Come on, we all need to go have a little chat.”

You replied. Meeting Sam and Dean’s eyes, you knew that this wasn’t about to be pretty.

“Dad, do you have a gun on you?”

You asked casually. John nodded. He thought this was a weird question but decided to go with it.

“Yeah, why?”

You shook your head.

“Put it on safety.”

John looked a little confused before following you into a dining room. You motioned to a seat.

“Sit down. We have a lot to talk about.”

John quietly did as he was told. His attention went back to Gabriel who was still frowning at him. Something about the way the man was looking at him made John on edge and he didn’t like it. There wasn’t something quite right with the man at your side. All of John’s hunter instincts were going on edge as he realized Gabriel wasn’t blinking.

“Yeah, I think we do, kiddo.”

John replied as Sam and Dean sat down. You didn’t even know where to start. Never in a million years did you think that you would have to explain yourself to your father ever again. When John was killed, you decide that would be the end of that…boy was you wrong!

“Dad, in the time that you have been gone…we have been through a lot. I mean like a hell of a lot. Sam, Dean, and I have gone through things that you probably wouldn’t believe…”

“Oh, I can believe a lot.”

John commented. You blinked a few times as John continued talking.

“Just tell me what it is. The three of you know that I don’t like…”

You held a hand up.

“Okay, we are in the middle of a second apocalypse. The archangel Michael is wreaking havoc in our lives. The three of us have dealt with the forces of heaven and hell, more monsters than you would care to believe, the British men of letters…I’m sure I am leaving a lot out.”

John blinked, looking totally stunned. He didn’t exactly expect to hear all of that.

“Are you joking?”

You weren't quite sure but for some reason, you started laughing. The last thing that you really wanted was to argue with your father about what you had really done over the past few years. John didn’t know the hell that the three of you had gone through over the years. You did. Sam and Dean did. John did not.

“No dad, I’m not joking. Oh, there’s more. Dean and I are dating angels and I’m pregnant.”

Gabriel stared at you with his mouth open. He honestly expected you to tell John a little more gently but no. You just threw that on him like a wet blanket.

“Surprise.”

Gabriel said with a smirk on his face as John turned to him. It made sense! It all made sense now. John now could see why Gabriel wasn’t blinking in addition to the cold distant expression on his face.

“You’re an angel and she’s pregnant?”

Gabriel nodded.

“That is what she said.”

John shook his head.

“I don’t believe it.”

Gabriel waited a moment before snapping his fingers and disappearing. The room was silent before Gabriel turned up beside you.

“Do you know anyone else that can do that because I sure as hell don’t?”

John jumped up, knocking the chair that he was sitting in over.

“Holy shit! You are an angel!”

Gabriel nodded.

“Yep, not just an angel. I’m an archangel. I warn you, human, don’t make move near her or I will smite you back to where you came from.”

John snarled.

“Get away from my daughter.”

Gabriel shook his head before freezing John where he stood.

“I can’t do that.”

John growled before turning his attention to Sam and Dean.

“You two just let this happen? I told the two of you to watch your sister! Letting her get knocked up by a rouge archangel isn’t part of keeping an eye on her.”

You, meanwhile, suddenly remembered your voice.

“Hold on a minute, dad. You don’t get to come here and start things like this. Sam and Dean did everything that they were supposed to and more. You are my father. You should have been there for us and you weren’t! Don’t you dare give me shit about being on hunts either. It shouldn’t have been Dean’s job to look after Sam and me the way he did. He was our mother and father more than you ever were. He didn’t get to be a kid. I’m my own damn person and make my own decisions. Sam, Dean, and I look out for each other but they don’t tell me what to do and you aren’t either. Chuck may have brought you back but you aren’t going to come in here and order us around. For once, we have our lives figured out and we are just fine with it.”

You turned and walked from the room without another word. Gabriel, turned back to John for a moment.

“It’s so lovely to see that you are still the same human that you were years ago. Excuse me, my wife needs me.”

Gabriel put extra emphasis on the word “wife.” He knew it would antagonize John all the more and he didn’t care….

_______

@amelie-black @jessyballet @knreidy1 @acciosiriusblack @siriuslyceleste @georgeweasleydumbhoe @justfinishthis @coffeeaddictednymph @millies0bsimp @fific7 @rogue-nyx88 @readtomeregulus @starsvck @daddyslittlevillain @panpride @saramaple @f4iryluvy @s-we-e-t-t-ea @taylor-will-be-the-death-of-me @missgorldafirst @buttercup-beeee @padf00ts-l0ver @goldensunshineshit @haroldpotterson @aurorasnape12 @stelleduarte @mentally-unstable-hoe @quinis @jag9000 @gugggu6gvai @yousmellllikecaca @lostarc @un-lovesherself @play-morezeppelin @ravenhood2792 @bennyberry @mimisparkle12 @teletubiswszpilkach @rubyroscoe1 @ad-astra-again @criminalyetminimal @lucasfilms77 @spideyxalmighty @brokencasbutt67-writer @authoressskr @moldy-old-boot @summer-novak @hankypranky @deanwherescas @shitfaceddaniel-blog @sprnaturallover @knight-of-gleefulness @wontlookaway @marichromatic @mycuddlycorner @li0nh34rt @tastefullyoffensive @melaninnbarbie @untoldshortsofthefandoms

#Gabriel #Gabriel x Reader #Dean Winchester #Sam Winchester #Cas #Jack Kline #John Winchester #Chuck Shurley #Reader x Gabriel #SPRN #supernatural #Supernatural Fan Fiction #sprn fics #Gabriel fics #Winchester reader sister #Chuck causing problems #To the Ends of the Earth #To the Ends of the Earth part 21 #update

41 notes · View notes

lachlanzeez · 1 year

Text

update :)

hi guys im sorry that i haven't been active lately, it was my birthday the other week and i was spending time with my family and friends on christmas and new years. And bc in my country we just experienced a huge cyclone called cyclone gabrielle (yes we named it, and idk why lmao) but there's been floods and a lot of things happening so i won't be posting for a little bit bc i have to help my community build back up again bc house were destroyed by trees and the wind and the floods.

i will still be active on here just not as much for now bc people need my help. For now i'm going to stay off of social media for a bit and help around the place and to see if people need help.

i will be posting updates on what has happened with cyclone gabrielle or other things that involve me not be able to post much on here.

i hope you guys are doing well and are safe. Take care of yourselves and i will keep updates regularly if i can and if there is power :)

i hope you understand that i can not control this weather and what is happening to my country so please don't say any negative stuff about me not posting bc i have "to much fame" or "he doesn't care about us, only his likes and reposts" i do care a lot about you guys bc you helped me become like this !!

love you guys so much and ill see you later

-lachlan zeez

-------------------------updates--------------------------

12 notes · View notes

alex-farrington · 2 years

Text

Please send requests!

hello i am experiencing a sort ow writers block and as many of you liked my previous posts i would like to know if anyone wants to send in a request. I write for fem masc and gender neutral readers, if you dont specify i will go with gender neutral.

I write for the mcu and supernatural fandom

MCU

.Bucky

.loki

.natasha

.pietro

.wanda

.peter parker

.platonic steve

.platonic tony

SUPERNATURAL

.lucifer

.gabriel

.castiel

.platonic dean

.platonic sam

.charlie

.rowena

.platonic crowlie

If your character isnt on here feel free to ask and i may add them lots of love

~♡Alex

17 notes · View notes

hannibals-favourite-meal · 2 years

Text

Michael: Why are there little handprints all over the walls?

Gabriel, whispering: Why are there little handprints all over the walls?

Y/N, whispering: Because I have little hands.

Gabriel: Because they have little hands.

3K notes · View notes

marvelfanfn2187a113 · 5 months

Text

Trickster’s Pet, Part 2

Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader, Gabriel & child!reader

Read part 1 here

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: you find out Gabriel is dead, but then later you and the brothers are reunited with him

“We have to go back!” Sam tightened his hold when you tried to wriggle out of his arms. “Gabriel’s back there, we have to help him!”

Sam basically had to wrestle you into the back of the Impala before he got in the front seat, and Dean hit the gas. You continued to protest, demanding that he turn around.

“Honey…” Sam glanced at Dean before looking at you in the rearview mirror. “We can’t. Gabriel stayed behind to save us. He…he’s gone.”

“You don’t know that!” You cried. “We have to try!”

“He stayed back there to save us,” Dean insisted. “And he gave us this thing to keep safe.” Dean held up the dvd. “So that’s what we’re gonna do.”

“But…but…”

“I’m sorry,” Sam said quietly, suddenly realizing how much his little sister cared about the archangel. “There’s nothing we can do.”

…

“Gabriel?” Your voice was soft and gentle, but Gabriel still flinched at the sudden sound. Sam noticed the way you were practically shaking with excitement at the discovery of your friend still alive, but you held it in when you saw how scared he was. Your excitement turned to horror when you got a good look at the tortured archangel.

“C’mere sweetheart,” Sam scooped you into his arms, turning you away from the sight. He didn’t want you to have to see your friend like that; beaten up, bloodied, with his lips sewn together.

You squirmed in your big brother’s hold, desperate to get to your friend.

“What’s wrong with Gabriel?”

“He’s gonna be ok honey, he just…he got hurt.”

“I wanna stay with Gabriel!” You insisted, still struggling in Sam’s grip. Sam was about to carry you out of the room when a hand on his arm stopped him. He turned to see Gabriel looking at him; it was the first time he’d moved since he arrived at the bunker.

“You want her to stay?” Sam asked, surprised when Gabriel nodded. Sam reluctantly set you down on the library table, next to the chair that Gabriel was sitting in. You instinctively reached out and held onto your friend’s hand, and Sam was again surprised when the archangel didn’t flinch away from your touch, as he had all others.

“Sammy?” Your voice came out in almost a whimper, and Sam’s heart broke when he looked down to see you staring up at him, more afraid than he’d ever seen you.

“It’s ok honey,” he insisted, wondering if he should take you away despite Gabriel’s protests. “I’m gonna fix him right up, ok? He’s ok.”

You nodded, keeping hold of Gabriel’s hand while Sam got to work. He carefully cut the stitches on Gabriel’s mouth, noticing how Gabriel would squeeze your hand whenever it hurt. His brain was working overtime, constantly afraid that he was traumatizing his baby sister by letting you stay here to comfort a tortured archangel. You stayed strong though, gripping Gabriel’s hand even as your own shook.

“Alright, that’s it,” Sam said after snipping the last stitch. “Y/N, can you find Gabriel a room?”

“What the heck happened?” Dean asked after Gabriel followed you wordlessly out of the room.

“They tortured him,” Sam said quietly.

“Yeah no kidding,” Dean sighed. “What now? Do you think Y/N’s safe with him? I mean he doesn’t exactly seem like himself.”

“Honestly Dean, I don’t think Gabriel’s in much of a position to hurt anyone.”

“We need to get his strength back,” Castiel put in. “I think I might have a way.”

…

“He’s settled in.” Sam didn’t miss the nervous tinge in your voice. “What now?” You looked up at Sam, your eyes red-rimmed. “He…he’s really scared and-and hurt.”

“He’s gonna be just fine, ok?” Sam put his hand in your shoulder. “We have an idea on how to help him out.”

“I’m coming.” Your tone left no room for argument, although Sam could make you stay away if he wanted to.

“Fine by me,” Dean said, and when Sam frowned at him he whispered, “she calms him down. We might need that.”

…

The plan wasn’t going well. When Gabriel refused to take the grace, the guys tried another method: force. Just one touch sent Gabriel reeling, diving over the bed and huddling in the corner shaking.

“Stop it!” You cried out. “You’re scaring him!” You pushed past Cas and your big brothers, making your way slowly to the archangel.

“Hey Gabe,” you said quietly, your hands held out towards him. He watched you warily, shrinking in on himself. When you saw him retreating from you, you stopped your forward movement, opting to sit on the floor a few feet away. “I’m sorry they scared you. Is it ok if I come closer?”

Gabriel hesitated a moment before nodding, and you smiled and scooted closer to him.

“You don’t have to take the grace if you don’t want to. We’re just trying to help you, I promise.”

Sam and Dean watched from the corner of the room as Gabriel stared at you. Finally, he nodded.

“You wanna take it?” You asked, and he nodded again. You held your hand out, and Cas handed you the cool glass bottle, which you then passed to Gabriel.

Gabriel was just lifting it to his lips when all the lights in the bunker went out.

…

“Stay with Gabriel, ok?” To say Sam was worried about leaving his ten-year-old sister with a powerless archangel while a Prince of Hell was loose in the bunker would be an immense understatement, but he didn’t see any other option.

“Gabriel?” You turned your eyes to the archangel after your two brothers and Cas left. Gabriel just stared; he knew what you wanted, but he couldn’t do it. “Gabriel, please.” You gestured at the grace in his hands. “You can help them, please!”

Gabriel said nothing. He knew you were right, but he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t go back to what he was before, he couldn’t fight Asmodeus just to lose again.

You turned away from Gabriel when the sounds of your brothers screams reverberated through the bunker. You looked from Gabriel to the door.

“G-Gabriel, please. I-I know you’re scared, I can’t even-even imagine what he did to you. But I…but I need you, please.”

Gabriel let your eye for a split second, but the pain and fear he saw there made him look away.

“I have to help them,” you whimpered, and before Gabriel could even look up, you were gone.

“No,” he whispered, snatching up the grace and putting the bottle to his lips.

…

It was a stupid idea, doomed to fail, but you did it anyway because your brothers were in danger. You saw Cas’s angel blade lying on the ground behind Asmodeus, and you were reaching for it before your brothers even saw you enter the room. Asmodeus, unfortunately, was quite perceptive.

“Well well, the final Winchester.” You felt your feet leave the ground as the demon flung you across the room, before using his powers to cause a searing pain to course through your stomach. You were screaming in pain before you even hit the ground.

“No,” Sam groaned, but he hadn’t even gotten halfway to his feet before another, more powerful voice invaded the room.

“Leave. Her. Alone.”

A brilliant blue light blinded you momentarily, but when you managed to look up, you saw your favorite archangel in all his glory; Gabriel, eyes shining and wings extending from wall to wall.

“Aww, did I hurt your favorite pet?” Asmodeus chuckled, and when he twisted his hand the pain returned to you. You barely had time to let out a cry of pain before Gabriel barely lifted his hand, and suddenly the pain was gone.

“The Winchesters are under my protection. And you no longer hold the power here.” Gabriel glanced at you for a moment. “You may not want to watch this.”

You closed your eyes when Gabriel pulsed blue once again. There was a cry of pain from Asmodeus, a flash of light, and then…

Nothing.

You opened your eyes. Asmodeus was gone. And suddenly there was Gabriel, lifting you by your arms.

“You ok, squirt?” He asked, smiling slightly. You gave him a shaky nod, and he pulled you into a hug, letting your weak limbs collapse in his embrace. “It’s ok,” he breathed. “You’re safe now, no one’s gonna hurt you.”

“Thank you, Gabriel,” you breathed.

“It was about time I stretched my wings.” He smirked.

“So…you’re back?” Sam approached Gabriel slowly.

“Slow your roll, Winchester. I’ve got my power back, but I’m not ready to join your suicide fight.”

“But—“

“Look, I’m grateful that you guys brought me back, I really am, but…no. I’m staying out of this one.”

“Gabriel,” you spoke up. “Please, we need you.”

He shook his head. “You guys have this one. I’m rooting for you.” He gave a near-sardonic smile to your brothers before leaning down to you, lowering his voice so only you could hear. “But if you’re in danger, if you need my help…call me, ok?”

You looked up at him, wanting to be angry that he was leaving you guys, but you were still too relieved that he was ok.

“Ok, I will.”

He grinned.

“Great. Now turn that frown upside down. You’ll see me again soon, promise.”

And he was gone.

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy

282 notes · View notes

lqveharrington · 16 days

Text

We Become We | L.M.

summary: You and Lucifer were both linked by an unknown force, but Lucifer acted upon it differently, thinking it meant nothing.

pairing: Archangel!Lucifer Morningstar x Seraphim!Reader

includes: fluff, angst, Sera and Micheal being kind of mean, heartbreak, letting your heart decided what to do and not your mind. (I think that’s it, let me know if I missed any !)

a/n: i listened to this song at least 100 times the other day, it’s really good. i think it made me cry already based on how many tiktoks i’ve seen of it.

Since the Father in Heaven created you, you have always been more curious about the different angels he created. You were the second Seraphim created after Sera, so you witnessed the birth of many angels, except for the Archangels. You were introduced to one another as royalty, treating one another with such status.

However, you always caught the eyes of a certain Archangel. He was the second oldest of God’s children, much like how you were the second Seraphim. When you were introduced to one another, you instantly clicked. You always made sure to find him once a day, conversing on several topics about Earth and the Heavens.

“Luce, where’s the— Lucifer!” You grimace at the Archangel, watching him give you a teasing grin. “You’re not supposed to touch those until later tonight.”

“It’s not my fault you decided to break into the palace’s kitchens for a snack!” He wiped his mouth with his sleeve. You scrunch your nose at the action. “So formal all the time, beautiful.”

You roll your eyes as a smile etches its way to your lips, grabbing the strawberries from the fridge. “Just help me, you idiot.”

“Rude.” He bit into a strawberry, humming at the taste. “I was stating a fact.”

Nudging his shoulder, your wings ruffle at the words. “We have to go, Luce.”

“You really just came in here to get strawberries—?”

You both froze when you heard Gabriel and Sera’s voices coming through the other end of the kitchens, glancing at one another. Without another thought, you both run toward the back door, entering the palace gardens. You flinched when you heard Sera’s booming voice from the garden.

Lucifer pulled you by the waist, and softly pushed your back on a willow tree, covering your mouth when the wind speeds increased from his brother and your sister’s wings. Your eyes widened at the action, scanning his face as he looked behind you. You suddenly felt warm. From his hand holding your waist to the close proximity, you swear you could hear your heartbeat in your ears.

“Sorry, they were looking for the culprit.” He chuckled as he removed his hand from your mouth, his golden eyes meeting your eyes. “Are you alright?”

You nod, face still warm from his hand still around your waist. “You still have frosting on your cheek, Luce…”

“Oh?” He swiped with his tongue, making you giggle. “Did I get it?”

“No.” You lift your hand, gently wiping the frosting off. “There.”

Lucifer smiled at you, “Thank you, beautiful.”

Seconds passed as you whispered back a response, letting the silence encapsulate the both of you. Your eyes searched his gaze while he cupped your cheek, rubbing softly.

“Lucifer—“

“SAMAEL!” Micheal yelled for his twin, making the both of you separate.

Your cheeks flare at the situation, watching him press a kiss to your cheek as he walks backward.

“I have to go, beautiful. I’ll see you later.” He winks, pushing off the ground with his six wings.

You lean against the tree, hand clutched by your heart. He had you hooked with a single action, but at what cost?

I could never choose to love another…

Months had passed and the Father created new souls on Earth. He created human souls, which fueled both you and Lucifer’s curiosity. You both visited them once in a while, but unbeknownst to you, Lucifer would visit without you, having built a blooming relationship with the human soul Lilith.

“Micheal!” You caught up with your creator’s eldest child, shifting your weight on your feet when he gave you an annoyed look. “Sorry, but uh… Do you know where Luc—Samael is? He promised we would have a picnic in the palace gardens today.”

“He went down to Earth to speak with Lilith again.” The Archangel waved you off. “If you wish to speak to him—“

“I’ll just go down to Earth.” You purse your lips, wings fluffing at his tone.

Lucifer said he was going to meet up with you by the gardens earlier that morning, he promised you. Did he just forget? Your heart ached at the thought as you soared down from the Heavens toward the Garden of Eden. You always loved visiting Earth’s garden, smiling when you saw flourishing greenery.

You slowly landed by the waterfall you added with Lucifer, his laughter ringing through the air. The wildlife followed you as you made your way over to the sound, your smile brightening when you saw Lucifer’s figure.

“Lucifer!” You shout for him, but the water from the waterfall drowns out your calls. You swiftly moved past all the growing plants before you froze, your heart beating harder with each passing second you watched.

Lilith and Lucifer were in a relationship?

Your heart broke as they parted from the kiss, Lilith tilting her head when she saw you. The animals surrounding you rubbed their heads against your legs in hopes of bringing your attention away from the couple.

Suddenly, Lucifer whipped around, eyes widening at being caught. Especially by you. “Fuck, beautiful—“

“I have to go.” You murmur, wings pushing you away from them.

Tears cascaded down your face as you made it back to Heaven, letting yourself break down when reaching your room’s balcony. The Archangels and Sera heard your curses out to the angel who took your heart and crushed it, frowning at the thought of what you saw.

They soon figured out the cause of your heartbreak, meaning the Angelic Council needed to make a crucial decision about the souls. With you swaying the final decision.

Lucifer watched you from where he stood with Lilith, knowing you would never look his way ever again.

“The Angelic Council voted unanimously,” Sera spoke with a delicate voice, hidden poison underneath. “You are both sentenced to Hell, becoming fallen to those in Heaven.”

You refused to look up from the papers in front of you, listening intently to your sister’s words. The whispers in the back of your head get louder as you hear Lucifer protest…

“ENOUGH.” Sera boomed her voice in the room, making you flinch. “It will be effective immediately.”

Lucifer looks back toward you, finally meeting your eyes. And for the first time, he saw guilt and anger emitting from you. He knew you loved him, but thought it didn’t mean anything until now.

Maybe one day I can learn to love you, too…

415 notes · View notes

horror102 · 1 year

Text

Night time massacre!

Slashers x Asylum therapist GN! Reader

TW: Midnight Angst, Heavy Angst. Emotional Hurt! Manipulation, Lying,

(Slashers: Gabriel May-Hannibal Lecter-Norman Bates-Brahms Heelshire-Jacob Goodnight)

Your plan was to get the slashers to trust you, that was what you were instructed by your peers and boss. And it was a hefty deal of money. And being a little middle class or below it, you needed the money. And when you were done you left.

Norman bates

His mother kept telling him it was a trick, utter buffoonery! But he didn’t listen, he insisted it was love. And that you felt the same way!

The way you would bat your eyelashes at him. How you’d lightly wake him up from his solitude.

He couldn’t keep his eyes off you practically sticking his head through the bars as your feet tapped the cement floor of the halls.

He’d watch how you step, notice a pattern in your walks, grow shy when you’d pay attention and bring up what he said in far later notices.

One day he’d even take it up to himself to make you a mattress flower, ripping his mattress up with raw strength and shaping it into a flower with his teeth and peeling cement off the walls.

He planned to give it too you Friday, so you won’t have to come back the next day and think about his proposal while you were on your two day break.

But Friday never came, you weren’t there. He thought, maybe you were sick. Oh my! Maybe you were sick! You probably caught the flu. Maybe it’s pneumonia, god you could die! No, no, no, no, his precious angel couldn’t die before he confessed.

He didn’t sleep, he didn’t eat, he didn’t even listen too his mother. He thrashed out on his own. Growing agitated after days passed. Monday, where were you? Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday. And on and on. He couldn’t fathom the fact that you were gone, Completely.

Hannibal Lecter (series)

He knew you didn’t care for him, he acted in such a job himself. He knew, oh god he knew, but he was so lonely he couldn’t help but enjoy the company.

He loved everything about it, from the clacking of your shoes as you stepped in the room to the way your eyebrows tilt when you were confused.

How you’d laugh at his stubble seriousness or jokes that were “so unfunny that they were actually funny because it wasn’t!” You stated.

Mesmerizing his favorite color, his phrases, adapting some of his manipulating habits.

He began to fantasize, creating this delusional realities of intimacy of you two in his mind while he slept uncontrollably.

He began to obsess, Thursday he mesmerized your schedule, trying to learn about you. But then Friday came and you weren’t there.

It was hard to keep up with time in the asylum so he just assumed you were off on Friday’s

Until you were off on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and back to Thursday.

Maybe you got hurt, best case scenario rather then the image in his head of you getting murdered by one of his enemies.

The image of you being eaten and cut up like he did to his victims, a piece of your jewelry hung up as decoration.

His mind became distraught, keeping his usually calm demeanor but eye bags were clearly shown. Agitation in his voice and hatred as he talked to the new therapist.

Gabriel May

For a while he didn’t trust you, he didn’t believe someone would try to understand a “parasite.”

He was utterly surprised when you called him Gabriel instead of “IT” when you called him by his normal He/him pronouns instead of “a parasite.”

He grew a little agitated at the fact that you made your way into his little heart, giving him more time then his sister to talk to him.

Letting him take turns to draw with his sister as if he was still a little kid.

Once you talked to his sister longer than you’d normally would, he’d show verbal aggression. Going occasionally silent, or making tiny whispers to his sister, threats of any kind.

He began blocking out his sister, so while you thought you were talking to her you were actually talking to him.

Learning what you’d tell her while she would usually block him out due to her command.

He’d wake up early so he could take control.

Make her hallucinate so she’d be scared and have a fearful nap.

Make her have extra long nightmares, just so she could complain about them to you which made him angry.

Watch as your eyebrows furrowed when you would talk to him and scold him about what he did.

But something that made his heart flutter is when you always forgave him.

Thursday he did it again, he terrorized her. And you scolded him and Friday he was supposedly going to give you his apology for attention.

But you didn’t come, maybe you were sick, it could only be a cold, right?

Maybe you left him, just like his mother, just like how his sister tried to block him out, just like how the doctors tried to take him out. Just like everyone else in his life.

No! You couldn’t have you promised said you would come back the next day.

Why would you lie? You had no reason too. You wouldn’t just abandon him, would you?

He started to listen in when his sister would talk to the guards. Hearing something he wish he didn’t.

No that can’t be true, they left.

Brahms Heelshire

He quickly became attached. As soon as you walked on the door, watching you eye the cracked up doll and him. Watching you observe the two.

Asking him normal questions and not pondering him to leave the doll.

Asking him how the doll was, did it chip again? You could help him fix it.

Those words were like music to his ears, as you fixed it, he was eyeing you down. Watching how your hands delicately took the doll from him as if it was a real boy.

Calling them both Brahms.

Saying hello and goodbye to both of them, complimenting both of them, acknowledging them. Seeing them as two in one. Instead of seeing the doll as some parasite.

Eventually Brahms behavior became more erratic more irrational. He was openly jealous, he always asked about other patients and what you’d talk about with them.

Angered how’d you actually talk about them in such a delightful manner.

Angered at how you had mostly male patients.

One day he took it to far, as you went to leave him stating “I’m off to another patient, have a nice rest of your day Brahms.” He flipped, the chains on his hands almost breaking as he tried to flip the table over it shaking as he used all his might eventually going so in the spam of little minutes.

He was punished, he wasn’t allowed to see you until Friday. So Monday-through-Friday he didn’t see you. He was driven crazy when you didn’t show up at the end of the week.

He began to get angry. Immediately he assumed you left him. How could you possibly love a murderous monster!? So foolish of him believing someone could actually love him.

You left him, without saying goodbye. Just like his mother and father and all the tiny bit off friends he had before he was locked away as a boy.

But he was going to promise you. “He’d be good, he will”

Jacob Goodnight

He didn’t see the evil in your eyes, you looked uncanny, you looked sweet.

You respected his beliefs and you never told him yours out of respect. You respected his mother.

You’d give him compliments about his different color eyes, about his height, about his cheeky smile.

You’d acknowledge how much he knew about his religion, you’d pray with him, even if it wasn’t something you believed in or was.

You’d compliment his Christ, you’d learn and admire.

Religious talks soon became random chats, you’d talk about random things Like God and the color of the sky.

You’d talk about your favorite colors, and help him figure out his.

Soon enough to your surprise he became obedient. Randomly, he’d do anything you’d say. Bow to your every wishes.

“Lift your left hand up and stick your pinky down.” You’d test the guards theory, and to your surprise he did exactly what you commanded.

He was obsessed. From the way you smelled to the way your hair was. Your eyes, your nose, your pointy ears.

He wasn’t exactly too bright to know your schedule. But he knew exactly what time you’d come.

He’d count, he’d create a rhythm. Just to know and remember.

One day after all that practice he finally learned his favorite color, and he was planning to tell you but it never came.

And days passed, and immediately he was angered. He’d attack everyone who tried to talk to him about you in a disrespectful way.

He’d pray for you to come back, and when that didn’t work he’d pray for you to be safe.

He couldn’t let you disappear without gods protection.

He’d repeat, “Dear Heavenly Father, Dear God. Please protect them, and if you wish bring them back to me.”

Disclaimer! I do not mean to be disrespectful of his religion I am a Christian myself! I just wanted to make it opt for people with other religions! <3

1K notes · View notes

zepskies · 9 months

Text

Break Me Down - The Epilogue

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female Reader

Summary: You’re a private investigator by trade, but now you happily sit at a desk — leading a surveillance team at Supe Affairs. After managing to end Homelander in New York, Soldier Boy escapes custody. You are recruited for the manhunt, joining Butcher’s team.

Truly, you joined the S.A. for the right reasons. But after you become his accidental hostage, Soldier Boy will break down every single one of them…

💚 Break Me Down Masterlist

AN: This chapter is set about a month before "Love Actually." So...are you ready?

Song Inspo: For this last chapter, it’s “The Book of Love” by Peter Gabriel. (It’s just lovely. I listened to it while writing the second half of the epilogue!)

Word Count: 7,800 Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Violence and peril, angst, familiar bickering, smutty smut, bit of breeding kink, tender fluff, hurt/comfort, and an ending…

Epilogue: All My Living Time

“I’m not fucking around,” he said. “I want you to live with me.”

Your smile was soft and bright when you took his hand. Ben wouldn’t admit it, but something in his chest stuttered to life then.

“Okay,” you said with a nod. “Let’s do it.”

Six months later…

You were frustrated with your roommate.

And yes, you used the word roommate, because he hadn’t seen fit to give it any other label.

You stewed in your irritation as you also stirred the beginnings of chicken tortilla soup. It was early in the morning before work, and Yvette had been teaching you how to master the crockpot. Hopefully, by the time you and Ben got home tonight, it would be ready and waiting for dinner.

Six months. You had to nag him about cabinets left open, dirty boots left right in front of the door to your shared apartment, and hell, actually going to his therapy sessions.

While that last one had taken months of convincing and cajoling, he’d caved when you suggested that acknowledging and dealing with what happened to him in Russia might help him control the nuclear power inside him. And maybe, just maybe, they wouldn’t have to patch another hole in the ceiling.

Mind you, he wouldn’t actually talk to said therapist about anything related to his PTSD. But at least he was going. And the therapist was apparently getting an earful of Ben’s celebrity encounters, with all the explicit, gushy details.

However, even with all of this, it also sometimes felt like you were an in-house maid rather than a partner.

The latest reason for your frustration returned to you when Ben strolled into the kitchen in search of coffee. He wasn’t yet dressed for work in his supe suit; instead, still in the plain shirt and sweatpants he’d slept in.

He glanced at you, and seeming to sense your mood, he kept to himself as he found his usual mug and poured a cup of steaming French press in silence.

You took in a breath, trying to calm yourself. Maybe he’d had time to sleep on it. You closed the crockpot and went over to him. Your hand on his arm made him pause.

“Hey,” you said, “have you thought about what I asked you last night?”

Ben’s expression remained flat. “I think I already said my piece on that.”

You sighed.

“Why is dinner with my family such a hard thing for you?” you asked. Your brows furrowed. “My sister’s starting to warm up to you! And Mom just wants to get to know you. What’s the problem?”

Ben scoffed. “Your sister fucking hates me.”

You bit your lip. He wasn’t totally wrong, but in fairness, Louisa wasn’t happy to learn about why you’d nearly died in the hospital, when Vought Tower collapsed.

She thought you needed therapy for an egregious case of Stockholm Syndrome. But the more Ben worked with Supe Affairs, helping to clear the streets of out-of-control supes and cleaning up the remains of Vought, you were slowly getting Louisa to come around.

“She just needs time to get to know you too,” you said.

Ben wasn’t having it though. He rolled his eyes and tried to walk away from you with his coffee and a newspaper—aiming to get to his favorite lounge chair in the living room. It was the way he always started his morning, like the old man he was.

You followed him.

“Come on, one dinner won’t kill you,” you said. “And by the way, neither would moving your dirty-ass boots out of the doorway.”

You went over to grab said boots, and in your annoyance, you all but tossed them into the hall. Ben frowned at you, throwing down the newspaper onto the coffee table.

“Why’re you nagging me like a goddamn wife?” he snapped.

“Wife?” you scoffed, crossing your arms. “You don’t even call me your girlfriend.”

But God forbid another man even smile in your direction. Ben was possessive, protective, and claimed with all but words that you were his. And yet, he wouldn’t say it.

You shouldn’t have been surprised that he was afraid of commitment, but you’d been living together for six damn months. Almost seven, if you counted the safe house.

When you found this nice, but cozy apartment in Scarsdale, you’d sat him down at the breakfast bar in the kitchen, like the two of you used to in that house in Medellin.

And you established the ground rules before you two officially moved in together:

First, an exclusive relationship meant exclusive. Meaning no fucking around. (He’d raised a brow at you.)

Second, you were his partner, not his slave. You expected him to carry his hefty weight, not only in the relationship, but around the house. (He’d most definitely rolled his eyes at that.)

And finally, don’t be an asshole, you’d decreed. “Be honest when you’re not feeling right about something. But don’t be a dick about it.”

That cut both ways, of course, just like the other two rules. He’d agreed to all of these, albeit begrudgingly. You hadn’t really known then if he meant it.

And now, looking at him, you still had no idea if he was trying, or if he was just tired of being alone…and if you were just a convenient bedwarmer. You bit your lip once again, this time with a growing fear blooming anxiety in your chest.

“Do you even love me?” you asked.

Ben blinked down at you, and his lips pulled into a deep frown.

“Stop fucking around,” he said.

“I’m serious,” you insisted. Your crossed arms tightened, as if to protect yourself from what he might say. “You’ve never said it once.”

“And the fact that I agreed to live in this mediocre fucking apartment doesn’t mean anything?” he said, gesturing around him with a hand. “I take you out, I buy you shit. Matter of fact, I fucking spoil you.”

“And you take off whenever you feel like it, especially after missions,” you shot back. “Sometimes I don’t know where the hell you’ve gone for hours. For all I know, you’re out there doing blow with a caravan of strippers!”

While that did sound like a damn good time, that hadn’t been Ben’s M.O. in recent months. And in his mind, you should’ve known better.

“I haven’t fucked anyone but you since we moved in here,” he snapped.

Even longer than that, if he was honest.

Meanwhile, you wanted to trust his words, desperately, but you just didn’t know if you could.

“Even if I believe you, what’s the problem here?” you asked. Your gaze fell from his as you worried your bottom lip. “Am I doing something wrong?”

You didn’t see the way Ben’s brows knitted together, his eyes softening a bit.

“Other than annoying the hell out of me right now, no,” he replied.

“Okay,” you nodded with a sigh. You looked up at him again. “Then just tell me the truth. What are we doing here?”

“What the fuck do you mean?” Ben’s hands went to his waist, and once again, he frowned in irritation. “I’m here. What more do you want from me?”

“Do you love me?” you asked. “And don’t lie to me.”

He knew very well that you would be able to detect if he was lying. Which was why, you suspected, he hadn’t tried to.

He couldn’t seem to answer you though…and that broke your heart.

Shaking your head, you walked away from him to get ready for work.

Your attitude at work was snappish at best. Annie had pulled you from the Surveillance department on your lunch break to join her and your friends in the breakroom, but you couldn’t enjoy yourself like you usually would.

“Smooth and creamy, all the motherfuckin’ way,” M.M. said. Sitting across from him in the breakroom was Frenchie, pelting him with a roasted peanut.

“This is why you are an unsophisticated, bourgeois, fucking fuddy-duddy,” Frenchie remarked. He was also vaping, as Annie was trying to get him to stop smoking indoors. “Extra crunchy peanut butter is the only way to do business.”

“What’s the point? Just eat peanuts if you want it that crunchy,” M.M. countered. He blocked each roasted nut thrown at him and organized them in a perfect pile on the table.

“You know what? You’re right. Smooth and creamy is how I’ll eat out your mother’s sweet and savory vajine,” Frenchie teased.

M.M.’s deadpan face was priceless. But when a peanut projectile strayed and hit you in the cheek, you leveled Frenchie with a glare.

“Can you guys not act like children for five goddamn minutes?” you snapped.

His brows raised, along with his hands in surrender. M.M. and Annie looked at you in mild surprise, and the latter with concern after the guys eventually left.

“What’s going on with you? You’ve looked tense as hell all day,” she asked. You sighed, holding a hand to your brow.

“I know. I’m sorry,” you replied. She gave you a knowing look.

“Is…something going on?” she asked. “Is it Ben?”

Most of the S.A. was still wary of Ben, while M.M. tolerated him at best. (You understood how hard he was trying.)

You appreciated Annie though. She was a good friend, and along with Hughie, she’d been another who started to come around to the idea of Ben. Not only as he occasionally worked with the S.A., but to the man himself, after she’d seen the way he did his best to save you, Yvette, and her son Devon.

You nodded at her question. You couldn’t help the tears burgeoning in your eyes. Annie scooched her chair over so she could rub your back in comfort. You sniffed and tried not to break down here in the middle of the breakroom, over your sad ham sandwich.

“We had a fight,” you admitted. Annie’s gaze was tight with concern.

“Did he…hurt you?” she asked. Her brown eyes were as direct as her words, promising her protection as well as retribution, depending on how you answered.

Your glassy eyes widened. “No. He’s not like that, he…believe it or not, but he’s never hurt me, Annie. Not once.”

After a moment, she nodded. “Okay, good. Well, tell me what happened.”

You wanted to. But before you could, both of you got an incoming text in the team group chat. It was from Grace Mallory.

She had a new mission.

Grace asked you to join the team on your first field mission since you’d returned to work three months ago. She also called in Ben, as in her words, it was another “all hands on fucking deck” situation.

Ben and Butcher eyed one another with similar stoic frowns, before they proceeded to ignore each other. Despite how you felt about Ben right now, the brief exchange almost made you smirk.

Apparently the whole I saved you with my super blood thing was awkward for both of them. You knew Ben had seen it as a means to an end. You still didn’t know how Butcher felt about it, but it seemed as if a begrudging respect had formed between the two men.

Or at least, they were civil, anyway.

“All right,” Grace said, once she saw that everyone was in attendance. “Let’s begin.”

A supe named Sapphire had been giving the CIA trouble for years now. She was moving drugs from South America to the States, to the Middle East, whoever would deal with her. And she was smart. She had a network of spies that transcended continents, and so she had evaded every attempt at arrest.

She was also a powerful supe, with the ability to channel vaporizing energy not unlike Crimson Countess had. However, this supe could spear blue shards of light through her enemies as well. With her damn eyes.

Grace turned to you after she finished explaining the details of the mission.

“Sapphire’s internal security is advanced. Our system can’t penetrate her firewalls. You’ll need to get a hand on the mainframe from there, shut down her system. Then our Surveillance team can back you up here.”

You nodded, but in the corner of your eye, you noticed Ben frowning as he crossed his arms.

“What?” you asked.

“You’re out of practice,” he told you. “You really think you’re ready for this?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? I train every day,” you snapped back.

Ben’s expression fell into irritation. “Not the same, and you fucking know it.”

Butcher, Annie, and the others watched the exchange with mixed wariness and discomfort. Grace looked between you and Ben with curious, narrowed eyes.

“Is this going to be a problem, you two working together on this?” she asked.

You turned from Ben’s annoyed face and met Grace’s gaze directly.

“Not at all,” you said.

Sapphire had been spotted doing business in the Meat Packing District. By day, the building was a beef butchering factory. By night, it was apparently one of the most massive drug running operations in the city.

As such, her security team was extensive—at the front, the back, and the roof. So while Butcher, Kimiko, and Ben broke through the front, making a lot of noise and distraction, the rest of you went under.

Unfortunately, that meant the sewer. Annie lit the way through, while M.M. followed a set of schematics to find the right spot.

“It’s not my first time in the bowels of New York City, but please God, let it be the last,” Hughie quipped. You tried not to breathe the foul smell through your nose.

“Watch the fucking rat,” M.M. said with a grimace, before he set up the double-sided ladder he brought. He and Frenchie climbed either side of it up to the metal ceiling which, according to the building’s schematics, led directly beneath the factory basement.

They took up welding guns and masks to carve a large hole into the metal and cement above. And soon enough, they pushed up and slid over a large portion, creating a gap you could all crawl through.

M.M. helped Annie up first, and she shot a few star bolts at the three men inside, who had been smoking and eating deli sandwiches. Each of them went down, alive, but groaning in pain. That allowed the rest of you to climb up and into the basement.

“We’re in,” M.M. said into the Bluetooth communicator in his ear.

“We’re cutting through her goon squad,” Butcher said. “Sapphire’s here somewhere. I can smell a massive cunt already.”

“Gross. Thanks for that visual,” Annie remarked.

From there, you all took off toward the stairwell. It was your task to find the operation’s security control room. So Hughie and Frenchie went with you as backup, while M.M. and Annie went to join the fight and find Sapphire.

It took you a few tries to find the right room. Most of them were offices. One contained wagons of discarded meat parts (disgusting). But eventually, you found a large room filled with computer equipment and a huge wall monitor with several panels of camera feeds. You and Frenchie raised your guns and took out the team inside.

Then you and Hughie went to the controls. Frenchie watched the door while you worked to disable the firewall first. You instructed Hughie on how to knock out their communications as well. And within a few minutes, your work was done. You were able to make a call to the S.A. Surveillance team.

“Hey, friend!” a cheerful voice greeted you. You smiled; it was your coworker Jess, who you’d worked with for the past two years.

“Jess?”

“Yep! I’m helping out on this one. What do you need?”

“I shut down the firewall. I’m giving you the I.P. address now so you can connect.”

“…Okay, got it. I’m in. I can see all twenty cameras, and you! Hey, there.”

“All right, where’s Sapphire?” you asked.

“Looks like they haven’t found her yet,” Hughie said, pointing at the camera feed in the main room, filled with rows of conveyor belts, and a massive fight as Ben, Butcher, and the others made their way through the building.

“We’ll just have to help them clear each room,” you said. “Let’s go. Jess, keep an eye on us, but look out for Sapphire.”

“Will do. I’m patched into your comm now too,” she said. So you hung up your cell, and you left with Hughie and Frenchie.

You ran into more security when you left the room, more than the three of you could realistically handle as a fire fight began. You guys ran in the opposite direction, but while you veered right around the corner, Frenchie and Hughie ran left. Bullets tore in between, making sure that none of you could cross the hall to join back up.

“You guys keep going. I’ll find my own way out,” you called out to them. Neither of them liked that idea, but Frenchie nodded and pulled Hughie away when Sapphire’s security team closed in.

You kept running down the hall. You knew you were being chased. Several heavy footsteps thundered behind you.

“Jess, I need a way out of here,” you commed in.

“You’re on the second floor,” she said. “The closest stairwell is the one you’re running away from.”

“What’s the second closest?” You panted as you ran.

“Hmm, you can cut through room 234. The exit stairwell is right on the other side.”

“Is the room clear?” you asked.

After a moment, Jess answered. “Yep, it should be.”

"Should be?”you said dubiously.

“What the hell’s going on?” you heard Ben’s voice on the line. You heard the edge of his annoyance (and underlying worry), but you didn’t have time to talk to him right now.

“Looks clear on my end,” said Jess,“but this connection is a bit wonky.”

Damn it, Jess, you thought. When you reached room 234, the door was solid gray. There was no window to peek into, and you didn’t have time for caution, as a stray bullet nearly caught you in the head.

You ripped the door open and ran in, slamming the door shut behind you and locking it for good measure.

You turned around and stopped short. A gasp caught in your throat.

The room was huge, and it was filled wall-to-wall with white packages, of what you could only assume was cocaine. A few men were continuing to stack them. At the center of it all was a tall woman, rich tan skin, long black hair, wearing a deep blue pantsuit and killer heels. She looked like a boss ass bitch.

But unfortunately, she was also looking straight at you, raising a brow.

“Ah,” she said. A smile curved her lips, painted with a dark plum lipstick. “You’re one of the little bitches making a mess in my office.”

Her eyes glowed blue, and yours widened. You dove for the nearest shelter—a wall of cocaine parcels. White powder exploded and wafted in the air as you ducked and ran across the room (and tried not to inhale). You drew your gun and shot out the legs of her men underneath the long stretch of table, but you yelped as bullets continued to follow you.

“I found Sapphire! Need backup in 234!” you shouted into the comm.

But when a blast of blue energy rocked into the wall directly behind you, you screamed as you were thrown forward. You landed painfully on your side, with the wind knocked out of you.

After a moment, you drew breath into your lungs and were able to pick yourself up. The exit door was close, a mere few feet away, but the second you reached for it, you had to pull back as narrow blue shards of light pierced the door.

Sapphire was quickly approaching, just a yard or so away from grabbing you.

Instead of shooting your gun, you went for the taser at your belt and shot fast. Sapphire grabbed the end of the line like a fucking moron. Her blue eyes widened in outrage and pain when it shocked 50,000 volts of electricity through her body.

You took your chance, and you ripped the door open and fled. You just didn’t expect the bolt of energy that shot after you when you reached the stairs.

It didn’t hit you, but trying to dodge it made you lose your balance. You uttered a short scream as you were forced to jump the first flight of stairs.

You landed on the middle platform between the first and second floor. This time, you knew you twisted your ankle badly on the way down. You whimpered, holding your ankle and shin, but you knew you didn’t have time to waste.

It was a struggle to claw your way up to the guard rail. You could barely put pressure on your right foot, but you had no choice as you scrambled down the rest of the stairs. Already the door to the stairwell was blown open, and a pissed supe was on her way down behind you.

After shoving the door open on the first floor, you stumbled out and took another painful spill across the concrete floor. To your relief, M.M. picked you up by your arms.

The door behind you swung open, and before Sapphire could fire off a vaporizing blow, Ben raised his new titanium shield in front of you and M.M.

The blue energy bounced right off, and Ben used his shield to bat the supe right in the face—like swatting a fly. With a shriek, she was thrown hard against the wall.

Sapphire sunk to her knees, then the electric blue flickered out of her eyes as she fell unconscious to the floor.

When you all returned to Supe Affairs, Ben thundered down the hall towards the Surveillance department.

“Ben!” You hurried after him the best you could with a sprained ankle, bare-footed and wrapped, while M.M. and Hughie trailed behind. The others were busy getting Sapphire into custody.

Hughie was concerned for you though, while M.M. also wanted to know how you were going to try and reign in Soldier Boy.

“What the hell are you doing?” you called after Ben.

“I wanna know what goddamn moron cleared that fucking room,” he barked, but he didn’t slow down.

M.M. called your name from behind.

“Get your boyfriend in check,” he warned.

You sighed in irritation. At this point, you didn’t even know if he was your boyfriend.

But you struggled to reach him. You were practically hopping on one foot. The moment you tried to put any pressure on your right one, you faltered with a cry as you all but crashed against the wall to catch yourself. Hughie went to help you, grabbing your arm gently with a supportive hand on your back.

You didn’t see it, but that was when Ben stopped short. His jaw ticked. And he turned on his booted heel. When he saw you struggling to support yourself against the wall, he reluctantly went back. He knocked Hughie’s scrawny hands off you and wrapped an arm around your waist.

When he tried to just gather you into his arms to get the weight off your injured foot, you snapped at him.

“I can walk!” you said. “Let’s just go home please.”

His nostrils flared in irritation, but he helped you try to walk back toward the exit instead. You winced in pain with every small step.

Ben growled in annoyance. Fuck this.

He hefted you effortlessly into his arms. You gasped and clung to his shoulders, and afterwards, you glared at him.

“I said I can walk!” you insisted.

“Shut up,” he grated out, swiftly heading for the exit doors down the hall. M.M. and Hughie watched with wide eyes while you and Ben devolved into what you did best.

“Don’t tell me to shut up!” you raised your voice.

He glared at you. “You’re in rare fucking form right now.”

“You’re the one being an asshole!”

“And you’re being a disrespectful brat!”

You rolled your eyes as anger burned hot in your veins. “What-fucking-ever, grandpa.”

Ben’s teeth clicked and grinded together. It took everything he had within him not to toss you.

“You really wanna fucking get it, don’t you?”

“Suck my dick. How about that?” you sassed back, unfazed by his warning.

Ben bulldozed through the double doors with a swift kick that shook them on their hinges. The bickering continued long after you two exited the building.

Hughie just stared, mouth gaping, while M.M. crossed his arms.

“That is some volatile shit,” Hughie remarked.

M.M. scoffed, with a subtle shake of his head.

“Nah, man,” he said ruefully. “That’s true motherfuckin’ love.”

Meanwhile, in the car, Ben drove home to Scarsdale. You simmered in the passenger seat. He glanced at you.

“Are you gonna be a hissy bitch all night?” he asked. You glowered at him.

“You’re the fucking grouch,” you shot back. In times like these, you liked to fantasize. Sometimes you wished you could rip out his spine and play Jenga with the vertebrae.

“And you’re the one who nearly got yourself killed,” he retorted.

You took issue with this, your brows raising high.

“Excuse me? You’re really blaming me for what happened with Sapphire? You were ready to take out my friend for making an honest mistake.”

His gaze briefly left the road, turning to you in frustration. He didn't understand how you couldn't get it through your thick skull. You had been one shaky step shy of being fucking vaporized today.

No blood. No body. Just...nothing.

“Case in point, you’re the best in Surveillance," he said gruffly. "You don’t need to be in the field."

His compliment stopped you, warming you a little, but he was missing the point.

“I go where I’m needed, just like you,” you said. “You don’t get to tell me how, when, or where to do my job.”

Needless to say, it was tense for the rest of the way home.

Ben helped you inside, after which, you were determined to get to the bedroom by yourself. He watched you hop away from him with a frustrated shake of his head.

He sighed and started to peel off his gloves and untie his boots…but instead of leaving them by the door, like he usually would, he kept walking until he made it to the bedroom he shared with you. He sat on the edge of the bed and took his boots off there.

He watched you ignore him as you closed yourself into the bathroom.

You came out of the shower a little while later. Your hair was damp, but unwashed as you hadn’t been able to stand there for very long. The wrap on your ankle had gotten wet, so you grabbed the spare one that the paramedic had given you.

Ben didn’t look at you as he took his turn heading into the bathroom. After the door shut, your shoulders slumped with a sigh.

You tried to put on some shorts, but you quickly gave up and instead put on an overlarge shirt over your underwear. You remembered then that this shirt was an old one of Ben’s, and now a favorite of yours, because it still smelled like that earthy mix of his cologne and aftershave.

Frowning, you sucked in a deep breath. And you made a decision.

By the time Ben came back out with a towel wrapped around his hips, he found you still in the bedroom. Except you were packing a suitcase—the same one he’d brought to the safe house he’d shared with you for a month.

You were stuffing clothes into it from your side of the dresser. Something churned uncomfortably in his stomach, and he approached you.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he demanded to know.

You glanced up at him, but continued packing.

“Well, you made yourself very clear this morning that we’re just roommates. So I’m going to the guest room.”

“All right, don’t get all fucking hormonal,” he said, reaching out with a hand to stop you. You snatched your hand away from him. His brows raised in disbelief.

When you tried to get past him on the way to your closet, he held fast to your arm. With an angry frown, he then grabbed your suitcase and spilled it over onto the bed. You didn’t need a fucking suitcase to move one room over. Not that he planned to let you go any-damn-where.

“Enough,” he said sharply.

You met his intense stare with your own, but your eyes were shining and red. In that moment, you both stilled. The silence was palpable. For you, it was heartbreaking.

“I can’t do this anymore, Ben,” you confessed. Tears welled up in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall just yet. “I put my all into this, and I just…I can’t be with someone who won’t be honest with me.”

You started to grab your suitcase again, along with your discarded clothes. Ben stopped you.

“I said enough,” he snapped.

You then threw the heap of clothes to the floor, suitcase and all.

“Why?” you tearfully retorted. “Why should I listen to you?”

His deep green eyes searched yours. For what, you didn’t know.

Eventually, you started to see through the cracks of his anger.

“Because I fucking love you,” he said.

You blinked up at him, with hope stuck in your throat. But you were stubborn in your denial.

“You’re just saying that to get me off your back,” you argued. “Either you’ve just gotten used to having me around, or you just don’t feel like being alone. But you don’t really care about me.”

You knew you were saying words you didn’t mean.

You knew that wasn’t true…but you couldn’t help it.

You were more upset than angry now, seconds away from dissolving into pitiful tears. You were just stubborn enough to hold them at bay.

“Just shut up for one goddamn second,” Ben said. He held you by your shoulders, though his hands soon moved down to grip your arms. It wasn’t a painful hold, but it was firm, and quite possibly pleading.

Despite your better judgment, you gave him time to speak.

“You really think I’d stay here in this shithole if I didn’t want you?” he asked. “If I didn’t care about you?”

You unconsciously held your breath. For a long moment, he hesitated to continue.

Again, you waited for him.

Meanwhile, Ben knew he was being a coward. He’d been holding back. Not because he wasn’t serious about you, but because he’d been burned before.

He knew he’d spent his life being a fucking bastard, in most ways. He knew he’d been wrong, and hadn’t given two shits about it. But Crimson Countess…Tess…he’d been willing to settle down with her. He’d actually told her he loved her and hadn’t been totally lying through his teeth.

Yeah, he’d fucked around. Flirted with other women in front of her. He knew he was a hypocrite. Still, in whatever way he could at the time, he thought he’d loved her.

And she’d lied to him. She’d gone through the motions of being with him. For fame or fear or whatever her reasons had been, she went along with it. And then she’d sold him out, along with the rest of their team.

For nothing. Just to get him the fuck out of her life—out of the world.

So what was he supposed to do with you? Just let you walk the fuck in, give you the deepest parts of him? A dark fucking space that he’d never given to anyone.

Well, he knew now if he didn’t, you were going to leave. But he wasn’t willing to let go either.

So…he relented. For once in his life, he told the truth.

“I love you,” Ben admitted. “In my whole damn life…I think you’re the only one who’s made me feel it for real.”

Tears finally slipped down your cheeks. You reached out and grasped his wrist, mostly for stability as you took in his words. He took that hand, held it to his warm chest. Always warm.

“But one day, I’m still going to fucking lose you,” he said, looking down on you. “Then I’ll be right back where I started.”

Alone.

You looked up at him with a sad, rueful smile.

“Not exactly where you started,” you replied. He wasn’t the same man you met last year. You pressed your free hand to his cheek.

“Taking Compound V doesn’t guarantee I’ll come out like you, with a longer lifespan.”

“It’s something the CIA can work on,” Ben said.

“You want Dr. Baker to experiment on me?” you asked, quirking a brow. The CIA had recruited her, ironically enough.

Ben closed his eyes for a second, letting out a slight huff. “That’s not what I’m fucking saying.”

You nodded and soothed your fingers through his hair.

“Okay, we’ll have that conversation. I promise.” Then you smiled. “But let me just have this moment…my boyfriend loves me.”

You looked into his eyes and you knew he meant it. His hands moved to your waist, around to the small of your back. You clung to his shoulders and shifted off your aching ankle with a wince. Ben noticed, and he raised you up to him. It had the added benefit of letting you reach his face easier.

He guided you into a searing kiss. You responded in kind, delving into his hair again and opening your mouth to his demanding tongue. With the tips of your toes, you pushed up from the ground and he helped you wrap your legs around his waist.

The towel he wore was starting to slip, and you shoved it the rest of the way off with your foot, until he stood in the center of the bedroom in all his glory.

He smirked into your lips and walked you to the bed. But before he could lay you down, you broke the kiss and held his face.

“You really love me?” you asked, just to make sure. It was the part of you, perhaps still scarred deep down, that had to ask.

Ben chuckled. He rested his forehead against yours. “You’re mine, sweetheart. Don’t you fucking forget it.”

You grinned, and you kissed him this time, only breaking when he lowered down to the bed. Once your back met the plush mattress, all bets were off. He wrenched your shirt up over your head, and you reached for him again.

Your lips drew a hot, wet path from his jawline to his neck, biting and sucking all along the way to that sensitive spot between his neck and shoulder. His hand clenched in your hair, a deep sound caught in his throat when he felt the sharp sting of your teeth, playfully biting, then soothing with your tongue.

Your nails bit into his skin, but merely felt like teasing down his back, making a shiver trill along his spine. He all but pressed you into the mattress as he made his own descent.

Your fingers trailed up and into his hair while his mouth worked its way down between your breasts, stopping to lavish attention on each one. You made sounds of pleasure when he took a hardened nipple between his lips, between his teeth, dragging deliciously over your skin.

Your thighs wrapped around his hips again, He bucked teasingly into your clothed core, making you moan when you felt his wet tip dampening your panties.

“Ben…”

His lips curved, but he didn’t answer you. His fingers were pressing into the flesh of your thigh as he continued to tease your breasts. You’d felt how hard he was already and frankly, you were surprised he was taking his time.

“Listen,” you panted in his ear. “You’ve gotta wrap it up this time. Do we even have condoms?”

You knew for a fact that Ben didn’t buy them.

But his brows furrowed. His mouth left your breast as he looked up at you.

“What?”

“I haven’t replaced my IUD yet,” you confessed. Its five-year lifespan had been up, and so you’d gotten the birth control device removed a few days ago.

Now, you watched in amusement at the way his lips curved into a pleased grin.

“No, don’t you even think about it,” you warned. Though you almost laughed at how excited he looked. “We’re not ready for that.”

“Why fucking not?” Ben asked. His pressed his length against your core more insistently. The idea of fucking you raw, spilling into you, putting his seed deep inside you without resistance, had his cock throbbing with anticipation.

“Ben!” You had to laugh. You two hadn’t even been living together that long, and you had just gotten on the same page after six months of trying to figure out what you were together.

“Don’t tell me you don’t want kids,” he said. And he began to ply you with tantalizing kisses along the column of your throat, down your neck, the scraping of teeth making you shudder in delight.

“I do,” you could admit. “But is right now really the best ti—”

He choked a moan out of you as his fingers pushed your underwear aside and spread your folds, then delved right in. Your core pulsed, hot and wet as his thick digits sunk deep inside you.

“God,” you uttered, gripping his hair tight. He stretched and explored your inner channel with two fingers, while his thumb found your clit with ease.

“When then?” he asked. But his hand was unrelenting, working you over until your toes curled and the coil in your lower belly began to tighten. You looked up at him helplessly.

“Can we talk about this later?” you keened. Ben smirked and suddenly withdrew his fingers from your dripping pussy. He snatched your underwear, ripping them down the middle and making you gasp.

“No time like the fucking present,” he insisted. He lined himself up to your entrance, but you stopped him with a warning look. You knew if you let him inside you now, he was going to try and get his way.

“Ben,” you warned.

He sighed and let you stop him, but then his teasing edge faded.

Ben pressed a hand to your cheek. When he leaned down to kiss you, you felt the need and wanting behind it.

He pulled away to meet your eyes. You softened looking up into his, because you understood what he wanted.

“We have time, baby,” you promised, stroking his chin. “We’ll have a family…just give us some time.”

He was disappointed…but he nodded. Sighing again through his nose, he clenched a hand into the now tangled mess of your hair.

“Say it,” he demanded. “Say you’re fucking mine.”

Your eyes widened. In all of this, you’d forgotten to be honest yourself.

“Of course I’m yours,” you said. “I love you, Ben. So much, I can hardly take it.”

He closed his eyes with furrowed brows. It had been a very long time since he’d heard those words. Maybe the first time someone had said them with any real sincerity, besides his mother.

You encouraged him to look at you, both with your voice and your hand gently touching his face. And when he opened his eyes, you marveled at the depths there.

Smiling, you guided him back to your lips. It was slow and sweet…until it wasn’t, deepening in passion and urgency again. Need burned inside you, so deep and strong that you couldn't take it anymore.

You slipped a hand between you to grasp his still hard cock. You caressed him a few times, letting your thumb circle around the sensitive head. Ben couldn’t help thrusting into your hand, releasing a grunt. His eyes briefly closed again as you pressed open-mouthed kisses to his neck, down his chest.

“I need you,” you whispered against his skin. Ben nodded while you held his length poised at your entrance. He raised your hips, tucking your ankles over shoulders. For your injured one, he rubbed your calf.

“What a fuckin’ trooper,” he said with a smirk.

You smiled, but it soon fell into a moan as he began to push inside you. Every time, he stretched and filled you completely. Your inner walls wrapped around him and already fluttered with heat.

“Fuck, baby doll. Got me tight as a damn glove,” Ben remarked. You had to giggle, but that just squeezed him harder. When he began to move, it was all you could do to cling to his shoulders.

As basic as the position was, you liked being able to see his face. You knew when to spur him on, and when to just hold on for dear fucking life. But above all, he was a skilled man, and you enjoyed watching him work.

You were so consumed by it that when he came, it took both of you by surprise. He spilled into you hot and deep, but he still filled you with ragged thrusts, which hit that special place inside that made your entire body shudder with pleasure. You couldn’t help but come apart with him.

Your nails bit fruitlessly into his skin as your voice rose on a high moan. The two of you panted for breath, and he pulled out and let down your legs back to the bed. Once you felt the telltale dripping of his release slipping down from between your legs, your eyes widened.

Oh shit, you thought. “We forgot the condom.”

Ben stared down at you, first in confusion, then in surprise. And finally, with a broad, Cheshire-like grin.

You laid a hand over your eyes as you relaxed into the pillow behind your head, trying not to laugh.

“I can’t believe we just did that,” you said.

“We? I was following your lead,” Ben said. He moved to lay beside you in full satisfaction, folding his hands over his chest. He looked like the cat that caught the horny-ass canary.

"Haven't you heard of, oh, I don't know, pulling out?" you quipped. Ben rose a brow at you, still with that smug look on his face.

"Not my philosophy, sweetheart," he said.

Your mouth dropped open incredulously. Your gaze narrowed, but looking into his gleaming eyes, you really just had to laugh. His smile grew.

Ugh. Whatever, you thought. For now, you closed your legs and moved over to rest your head on his shoulder. He welcomed you with an arm wrapping around your waist.

What’re the chances that I’m ovulating anyway? you thought.

After a beat, you huffed another laugh. With your luck, you’d definitely have to stop at a drugstore for a pregnancy test.

And yet, in times like these, you were happy that you caved when Ben insisted on installing a TV in the bedroom. After you both got cleaned up, it was nice to fall into bed like you used to and find something new to watch together.

There were so many things you wanted him to catch up on, and he was generally game for whatever you thought he might like.

Three episodes of The Office later though, you stopped laughing so much and fell into your thoughts. Ben noticed, tugging on a loose strand of your hair.

“What’s the matter?”

“You really think our apartment is a shithole?” you asked.

He shrugged. “I might’ve embellished.”

“Seriously. If you’re not comfortable here—”

“I’m comfortable,” he said, turning his gaze to you. “Why’re you asking me that now?”

“I don’t know,” you said. “I just want you to be happy here. I want this to feel like home for both of us, but not like, boring either.”

He smirked. “Hence the caravan of whores and blow.”

You shook your head with a laugh. But he still saw you trying to stem off that worry. That all this wasn’t enough for him.

Well, Ben could complain about being cramped in this three-bedroom apartment…but he knew that when he came home, he wouldn’t be alone.

He’d be able to see your stuff on the nightstand, by your side of the bed, your half of the closet, your sweet-smelling soaps and lotions in the bathroom. All of that was familiar to him now.

It was home, he supposed. And so were you.

The beginnings of a softer smile curved his lips, but he edged it into a smirk.

“You’ve got something they don’t,” he said.

“What’s that?” you asked, raising a brow.

“You try the ever-living fuck out of my patience,” he said, “unlike anyone on the planet.”

With a giggle, you rolled over onto his arm and chest, resting your head on his shoulder.

“Buuut…?”

He conceded with a nod, if also a roll of his eyes. His arm lifted to once again slip around your waist.

“But no matter how fucked up it got, you stayed.”

With me, his tone implied.

“That’s more than anyone else in my goddamn life,” he said.

And that made you tear up all over again.

“So you’re staying,” you clarified, only half-teasing.

It reminded you of when you’d sat tied to a chair, wondering why the hell Soldier Boy would want to let you live. You could’ve never known it then, but you’d stared straight into the face of your future.

You didn’t know if Ben was remembering the same thing, but he smiled a little, brushing away your tears with his thumb.

“I’m staying,” he replied. Your smile brightened, and you leaned up for a kiss.

“Then we’re square,” you whispered against his lips.

He chuckled and deepened the kiss. He turned off the TV, chucking the remote further down the bed and turned to trap you beneath him again.

“Nope.” You finished wiping your eyes and pushed against his chest. “You’re not finessing me twice. Go find a damn condom.”

He gave you a grumpy look. “Fucking killjoy.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you laughed. You reached up and took his face in your hands.

“I promised, didn’t I?” you reminded. “We’ll get there.”

His gaze searched yours.

“Soon, not someday,” he said. You nodded, soothing your thumb across his cheek.

“Soon,” you agreed. And you reminded him, even as your throat constricted once more with emotion. “Ben, I love you…God, I love you. And I’ve never wanted this with anyone but you.”

Ben paused, but after a moment, he nodded in acceptance. You were grateful for it. Even though you weren’t quite ready yet, he wasn’t the only one who wanted a family.

While your fractured past and upbringing made it hard for you to move past your fears, your insecurities, you knew that this man made you feel safe.

For the first time in your life, you also felt whole.

Soon enough, you’d be brave too.

AN: That's all, folks. Been a great ride...

Ha! Just kidding. I'm nowhere near done with these two, even with this long-ass epilogue lol.

But honestly, no matter what part of the journey you jumped into with this story, thank you so much for sticking with me until the end. It's truly been one of my favorite stories ever to write. And I'm so glad I got the chance to share it with you. 🥹💚🥹

Next Time:

Ready for Part 2 (of 3) of "Love Actually"?

(AKA: Ben is forced to attend Christmas dinner to meet his girlfriend's whole family.)

Here's a sneak peek:

“Hey. What’s taking so damn long?” he asked. His brows were furrowed, mouth set in an aggravated frown. “I already told you. I’m not planning on being at this thing all night. So if you don’t come down here in the next ten minutes, I swear to fucking Christ—”

Ben stopped short, as he heard your footsteps at the top of the stairs. When he looked up with expectant, pursed lips, his face subtly froze.

“What? What’re you gonna do?” you teased. Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, you grasped the guardrail and carefully made your way down the stairs. These heels were no joke...

😂 Until then, let me know what you thought of the BMD finale! 💚💚

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List:

@deans-spinster-witch @this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @mrsjenniferwinchester @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26 @spnwoman @syrma-sensei @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @muhahaha303 @123passwort

@xoxovienna @katherineann814 @lollag0w0 @globetrotter28 @nancymcl @ashbatz @secretdreamlandmentality @kristophalis @wonderland2022 @emily-winchester @shelh93 @sl33pylilbunny @spoonmynoodle @chernayawidow

@buckybarnes-1917 @asgardprincess97 @sometimes-i-sing @itsyellow @theonlymaninthesky @kimberleymjw @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @iamsapphine @sanscas @se-fucking-hun @lassie-bird @jessjad @yepimthatperson @fromcaintodean @stoneyggirl2

@spnfamily-j2 @im-a-slut-for-fluff @lacilou @venicesem @mimaria420 @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @tearsfortheyouth @agalliasi @chriszgirl92

#The Epilogue #the boys #soldier boy #soldier boy/ben #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #the boys season 3 #soldier boy/ben x reader #the boys au #enemies to lovers #frenemies to lovers #private investigator!reader #the boys amazon #soldier boy smut #break me down #Part 18 #zepskies writes

617 notes · View notes

allysunny · 9 months

Text

Shadows to Stars | Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reader

Synopsys: One night, your seemingly perfect life with your boyfriend Miguel crumbles before your very eyes. It is then you must make a decision that will change the course of your life forever - as well as the course of the life growing inside of you.

Words: 12k

Warnings: Angst, violence, mentions of death and abortion, pregnancy, Miguel is scary and a bitch. Spanish translations will be at the end. Do tell if I forgot something!

A/N: Hey everyone! Here's the super long oneshot I promised you all I would deliver! Since in both polls I made, the majority of y'all voted for one post, I'm posting this as one big drabble. Honestly, it kind of transformed as I was writing it, and I got carried away. Beware, Miguel is a monster in here, he is NOT a good person and I do not condone his actions in this work.

Also, quick aside, I'm using my own experience with toddlers and kids (namely my little sister) to shape some of the dialogue. Kids are very smart, and oftentimes we don't give them enough credit. I tried to keep this realistic!

The song mentioned is Querida by Juan Gabriel - I suggest listening to it!

Enjoy! :)

“This is such bullshit.” Was the first thought that crossed your mind. That’s not how gravity worked. The impossible stunt performed by the actor in the TV left you unimpressed, and you scolded yourself mentally for it. You sound exactly like him. Just enjoy the movie, will you?

You shake your head with a sigh, focusing on the screen in front of you. You’d been meaning to watch this one for a while, all your friends said it was simply the best of the saga just yet. “I can’t believe they’re making another one, just let the saga die!” You replied, but your best friend Miranda was quick to disagree. “How could they, after ending the last one in such a cliffhanger?” She was defending the movie as if her life depended on it. “Besides, Com Truise looks really hot in this one, he’s aging like fine wine”.

So here you were, trying to figure out how the hell Wethan Runt was gonna get himself out of this situation. This was the… Sixth? Seventh? Seventh Improbable Endeavor movie so far, and you wondered why they couldn’t just let the series die. It was simply too much at this point, a way to milk a famous franchise in order to earn money.

“Mommy?” A small, tremulous voice pulled you from your thoughts, and you looked at where it came from.

A small child looked at you from behind the living room door, his hand tightly clutching a teddy bear. Your son had just turned 4 and was the most precious thing the world had ever blessed you with. With soft brown curls and [e/c] eyes, he looked like a little cherubin, all chubby cheeks and dimpled smiles. You adored him.

“Yes, baby? What’s wrong?” You asked, furrowing a brow. However, there was no need for a reply. You knew what the answer was already. “Another one?”

Gabriel nodded softly, tears forming in his eyes, and fear turning in his tummy.

“The same?”

He nodded again, the tears now rolling down his round cheeks. The sight of your pouting son broke your heart. For a few months now he had been plagued with the same nightmare repeatedly: A brightly coloured spider sinking its teeth onto him, proceeding to devour him whole right after. It wasn’t a pleasant dream, and unfortunately, it felt too familiar. Not to you, but perhaps to someone who once used to be close.

“Oh honey…” Your voice was soft, as it usually was with Gabriel. You knew nothing else when you were with him. “I’m so sorry… C’mere baby, do you want to sleep near mommy tonight?”

Gabriel shook his head “yes” softly, a small breath leaving his mouth. He was glad you’d asked him that. He didn’t want to look like a baby, not in front of his mom. Not when she told him he was her brave boy all the time. He had to be a brave boy for his mama.

“Mama…” He breathed out, tears pooling at his feet. “Mama I’m sorry…”

“Honey?” Now you were worried. He looked so scared; your precious baby looked so scared. “Honey, c’mere…”

“I can’t…” He whispered, shaking his little head. “Mama I had an accident… I’m sorry… I made the bed wet…”

Your heart officially broke.

Motherly instinct was stronger than you, and within a few seconds, you had picked Gabriel up, shushing him and running your fingers through his brown locks.

“It’s okay honey, it’s okay…” You cooed as he buried his face on the crook of your neck, hiding away from all the troubles, from all the monsters and creepy spiders that threatened to hurt him. His mama always made the monsters go away. You were his hero. “You’re such a brave boy, it’s okay… I’m not mad at you, alright? You’re so brave for me…”

Your hushed words were quick to soothe him. He stopped crying, occasionally sniffling and rubbing his eyes from the sleep.

You took him to the bathroom, quickly washed him and gave him a new pair of underwear. Gabriel knew how to use the toilet – potty training was never a problem because to him, the toilet meant he was a “grown up”. He was quick to tell you when he needed to use the bathroom, causing you to leave the diapers behind. Unfortunately, nightmares didn’t care about that.

He looked at you while you got rid of his wet sheets, throwing them in the washing machine, and his eyes were full of adoration while you prepared him his favourite chocolate milk.

Once he had finished it, you turned off the TV – Com Truise would have to wait – and took Gabriel to your room in your arms.

He made himself comfortable on your bed, teddy carefully placed by his side, and you followed suit after quickly brushing your teeth.

“I’m sorry mama…” He mumbled once again. “Maybe I’m not brave enough…”

“Nothing to be sorry about, honey. It’s okay. You’re still my brave little boy. You’ll always be.” Bending over, you placed a soft kiss on his forehead, and he smiled, which made your heart melt. For all the sadness and hurt you’d gone through and suffered, Gabriel was the best thing that had happened to you. He was an amazing kid: curious, kind to a fault, and oh so cute. Of course, it didn’t help that he was like a mini-version of his father, but you’d learned to live with it.

After all, he wasn’t a little Miguel O’Hara. He was simply Gabriel, your sweet Gabriel who marvelled at thunderstorms and loved broccoli but hated tomatoes. Who liked to play in puddles and splash around at the beach, who giggled uncontrollably when you tickled his little tummy.

“Can you sing the song for me?” He asked, voice laced with sleep. And you couldn’t find it in yourself to refuse your son in any way. You nodded and tucked his teddy closer and caressed his cheek.

“Of course, my love.”

You took a short breath and started singing.

“Querido Cada momento de mi vida Yo pienso en ti más cada día Mira mi soledad, mira mi soledad Que no me sienta nada bien, oh ven ya”

Miguel had taught you this song. It was one of his favourites, and you used to sing it to him when he felt stressed or tired. His head on your chest, on your lap, on your neck, your hands running through his hair, his heart on your palm, yours on his. The original song was meant for a girl. Querida was a woman. But you’d adjusted it for him, and never had the courage to change it back.

It was a song of heartbreak, of longing and hurt.

How fitting.

“Querido No me ha sanado bien la herida Te extraño y lloro todavía Mira mi soledad, mira mi soledad Que no me sienta nada bien, oh ven ya”

Glancing at the little one, you chuckled to yourself. Gabriel fell asleep quite quickly, especially when you sang for him. This was his favourite song too, and you’d gotten used to singing it to him nearly every night before he went to sleep.

For a few minutes, you stared at your son. Soon enough, after he’d fallen into a deep slumber, you adjusted his rebellious curls and brought him close to you, his little hand instinctively coming up to wrap itself around your finger.

It’s impossible to describe the love you felt for Gabriel. You’d do anything for him, walk to the ends of the earth if it meant he would smile and look at you with his bright curious eyes. What was there not to love? You couldn’t figure that out. And you couldn’t shake away the memory of when you first asked yourself that question. Not when it used to play in your head every night, no matter how hard you tried to keep it from your thoughts.

The paper read “Test indicates the presence of hCG hormone, confirming pregnancy”.

Oh.

You were pregnant.

If the cheap pharmacy test wasn’t enough proof, now you were absolutely positive you were pregnant.

You. Pregnant.

A mother.

You were going to be a mother.

And Miguel was going to be a father.

Was it possible to die of happiness? You always felt like you were floating with Miguel, but this was different. The thought that you had a little human, a baby, a child, a mini-you growing inside of your uterus? It was too much. To say you were over the moon was an understatement.

That day, you cooked Miguel his favourite.

You got him his favourite wine, mentioning how you were “feeling too light-headed to drink”, but inviting him to do so anyways.

You wore the dress he loved so much, the one that, according to him, made you look like “a princesa”.

Before he arrived, you placed the paper sheet with the results inside an envelope. Taking the lip gloss shade he loved so much, you painted your lips and placed a soft kiss on top of the envelope, the red stain its only decoration.

And just as you hid it within your apron, the doorbell rang.

“Miggy!” You exclaimed, running towards him.

Miguel looked tired – eyebags ever so prominent, face tired and devoid of any emotion. But these features changed once he laid his eyes on you. The exhaustion almost as if evaporated from him, the tired look replaced by a warm smile.

His arms wrapped around you instinctively, head coming to trail his lips over your collarbone, humming ever so slightly – if you didn’t know your boyfriend, you’d think he was silent.

“Amor…” He groaned, hands squeezing your waist, lips caressing your skin.

“Rough day?”

“Would sewing a bunch of kids’ mouths shut make me a bad person? Answer me honestly mi Cielo, I trust your good judgement…” Was his mumbled reply.

You laughed, skimming your hand through his hair, as the other rubbed soothing circles on his back.

“It wouldn’t be the most moral thing to do, no.”

“Mierda.”

Your laughter filled the room and it was healing. It lifted all his worried, carrying them to a place far, far from your soft touches and kind words. You were his safe space, his little secret. For all the technological advances he had access too, Miguel found the best remedy to be purely and simply you. And didn’t you look extra pretty today?

You were always breathtaking, but that dress… Surely you knew what his thoughts on that dress were. You had to be doing it on purpose.

So, he let you lead him to the shower, covering his body with sweet kisses and kneading the tense and sore muscles of his back and shoulders. He let you wash his hair, giggling as you played with it, turning his soapy curls into a mohawk. He let you cover his body with body milk, rambling on about “it makes his skin so soft and healthy”.

He loved you. How could he not? What was there not to love?

And you loved him back just as much.

The way Miguel smiled as he took bite after bite of your food. He refused to talk about his day, claiming it’d only make him angrier. He’d much rather hear about yours.

So, you did just that, telling him about the things you did, the places you went. The new supermarket that opened just down the street with fresh fruit, the old market where you got the meat he’s eating right now, etc.

You were always out and about, keeping yourself busy while he saved Nueva York, volunteering, working with children, helping elderly people, or perhaps, if you were feeling lazy and tired, maybe just lounging around with a book in your hand.

It was when Miguel offered to do the dishes that you realised it was now or never. Time to shoot your shot.

You waited patiently for him, leading them to the couch once the kitchen was sparkling once again, and sat him next to you on the couch.

“Miguel, there’s something I wanna show you…” Was how you started. Goodness, had you always been this nervous? Were your hands this clammy? Why weren’t any words coming out of your mouth? Your breath was quickening, and a million questions were running freely through your head.

You didn’t think this through, did you? What if he’s not happy? But that is impossible, right? You two spoke about this. Miguel wanted a baby. So did you. You knew of his past, knew of Gabriella. But you also knew he was healing. You saw it happen before your very eyes. First there were the small glances, the small comments about baby clothing, and then there were conversations of children, of family. And of course, there was the trying. In fact, Miguel was more than invested in trying for a baby. “Just give me one more,” He’d whisper in the intimacy of your bedroom, “Wanna make sure it takes.” And you were soft and giddy and in love and oh so pliant for him.

And yet, it could go wrong. So many things could go wrong.

“Mi vida, what’s wrong? You look worried…” Miguel furrowed his brow, hand coming up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, the way he did when he wanted to see your face more clearly. His face had “worry” written all over it, and it’d be funny, if you yourself weren’t shaking with anxiety.

“Yes, I… I’m fine, just… Give me some time.”

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself.

Nothing would go wrong. Miguel loves you. Endlessly, and he’ll love your child just the same. You’re sure of it.

“I need to show you something.” You said more clearly, looking him in the eye. “I… I love you, Miguel. So, so much. Unimaginably so. I love you. I love everything about you.”

He smiled. A genuine smile, one saved for you and only you.

“I love you too, mi vida. Te amo con todo mi ser. Eres la luz de mi vida.”

Shit, it did things to you. Him speaking Spanish, that was. You’d been learning, just for him, and while you weren’t yet a professional, you’d picked on his endearing phrases quite early. In fact, those were the first you learned – you wanted to be able to understand the sweet nothings he whispered to you in the comfort of your home.

“I… I’m scared you won’t… At least not anymore, when I show you this…” You confessed with bated breath, shrugging your shoulders ever so slightly. Communicating your worries and fears with Miguel had never been an issue. He was very open, telling you whatever was on his mind with no hesitation. It had taken a while, but now he trusted you fully, and your relationship was based on trust and understanding.

“Mi vida…” He murmured, fingers slowly cupping your jaw. “Unless you ate the last empanada in the cafeteria, there’s nothing you could do that would make me love you less…” It got a chuckle out of you, and a smile out of him. Good. It was all he ever wanted to see; you with a smile on your face.

“Well then…” The words were muffled by the ruffling of your apron.

You took out the envelope and sighed.

This was it.

It was now or never.

Fuck, you were going to puke. This was simply too much. You were so worried, so scared.

But before you could do anything, he had carefully taken the envelope in his hands and opened it, smiling at the lipstick stain.

Oh god. This was it.

He unfolded the paper.

There was no turning back now.

He read the words attentively, curious about what had gotten you so worked up. You observed his face, his calm demeanour, his brow furrowing, his lips parting, his eyes widening-

“What?”

It was nearly imperceptible, but it was there, and you heard it.

His eyes scanned over the words again.

And then again.

And then again and again and again and again, until his fists clenched the paper, and he was turning away from you.

“Estás… Estás embarazada…?”

“Miggy…?” You tried getting a glimpse of his expression, but he refused to look at you again.

“Is this true…? You’re pregnant?” There was something in his voice, something you couldn’t quite pinpoint. Grief, perhaps? Anger? Surprise?

His knuckles turned white, and the paper sheet was quickly torn in two.

“M-Miguel?” Your eyes went to his knuckles and the paper. Oh no. This couldn’t be good. There’s no way this is good.

“You’re PREGNANT?” He turned to face you, his eyes a dark shade of red. His voice boomed and you flinched. It was an instinct, truly. The paper was left forgotten on the floor as he balled his fists in his lap, as if he was restricting himself.

“Aren’t you happy?” The words left your mouth as a mere whisper, all of the confidence and bravado from earlier completely gone. What the hell was going on with Miguel? He looked angry, feral, like… No, you did not want to think about it. Surely, he was just a bit surprised, right? That must be all. “Miggy? Aren’t you ha- “

“How did this happen?!” He growled, and you could do all but scoff. Was he actually serious? Did he not know how pregnancies happened? Did he not know how babies were made? Wasn’t he there when you two were actively trying to get you pregnant?

“Gee, Miguel, I don’t know, maybe it happened one of the times you pushed me up against the kitchen sink or the couch as soon as you got home, claiming you ‘needed me so badly’. Maybe it happened because we’ve been trying for a baby, because you said you were ready to start a family with me.” Was he being serious right now? It’s not like birth control was 100% effective – you had always warned him of that – and it’s not like he always used protection – something you both discussed as well. So how come he was asking ‘how it had happened?’. “We don’t always use protection, you know, these things happen- “

“How could you let this happen?!” Miguel stood up, his frame towering over you. And for once in your life, you felt something you’d never even imagined you’d fear when with Miguel – let alone because of him: fear.

“What? Me?” Your eyes widened, refusing to believe the words that he’d just uttered. “How is this my fault? Last time I checked, it took two people to make a baby, Miguel. And you wanted one. Holy – Miguel, what is wrong with you? We’ve been wanting a child for so long!” It wasn’t until the tears hit your palms that you realised you were crying. It hit you shortly after, Miguel made you cry. “Honey, please, just… Aren’t you happy?” You forced a smile through the tears, hoping to get him as excited as you were.

“Happy?!”

“Yeah!” Tear after tear escaped from your eyes, tracing paths down your face. You’d been so excited to find out you were going to be a mother. Fantasizing about holding your child, caressing their chubby cheeks, watching as you and Miguel doted over the tiny human that was both a mixture of him and you. And now those fantasies were shattered as Miguel paced back and forth in your living room, giving you a look that could kill you by itself. “I thought… I thought you wanted a family with me…! You said so Miggy, you told me you wanted to start a family…”

He all but scowled and threw a punch at a wall, cracking the surface around his fist. You flinched once again, shaking your head repeatedly. This couldn’t be happening. This wasn’t your Miggy, no. This wasn’t the man that whispered the sweetest words in your ear, who woke you up with gentle kisses, who placed gentle hands on your stomach and wondered about the family you would once start.

“Clearly, I changed my mind.” Your boyfriend – no, because there was no way this man was your boyfriend – rumbled, removing his hand from the wall, and inspecting it. “I… We… [Y/N], we can’t. Perdóname. I’m sorry. I know what I said, but… No. This is out of the question.”

“I don’t get it,” You shook your head. This whole thing seemed so farfetched – Miguel wanted a child. He had told you as much. Hell, you two had been trying for a baby. On purpose. How could he just tell you “No”? “Miguel, we wanted this. I’m pregnant because we wanted to start a family, because you told me you were ready and wouldn’t love anything more other than me holding your child, Miguel, I’m pregnant because we wanted this! And you need to take responsibility for your actions, you can’t just blame me for this when we were bo-“

“I don’t have to do anything. This is completely out of the question. I thought I wanted a child, well, turns out I don’t.” He was spitting the words so viciously, you could’ve easily mistaken them for poison. “Having a child now would complicate things too much.”

“Complicate?”

“Yes, complicate. Our lives shouldn’t be changing too drastically because of a baby. I’m sorry, [Y/N], but we can’t. We just… No. “ He didn’t even have the decency of facing you. He was looking at the hole he’d punched into the wall, frowning.

“But Miguel…” You pleaded. You truly couldn’t understand what was happening. You could not understand why he wasn’t thrilled, excited, over the moon, spinning you around as he kissed your face and pledged his undying love to you. Undeterred, you take your hand in his and place it on your stomach, on the place your child would live for a few months before you had the joy of holding him (or her) in your arms. A smile, albeit a small one, graced your features once again. “We’ve been… We’ve been wishing for this…”

Miguel took a good look at you. He glanced up and down, taking your figure in. Your red eyes, your runny nose, your puffy lips. The tears, the hurt in your gaze. All because of him. He was hurting you. You truly wanted this, didn’t you? And didn’t he want the same? Hadn’t he told you time and time again how much he wanted to start a family with you? Weren’t you trying? Wasn’t he finally healing?

So why was it that the only thing he felt for the growing foetus inside of you was disdain?

He removed his hand from yours and shook his head.

“Get rid of it.”

Your jaw dropped.

What?

“Miguel? Honey, I…”

“Get. Rid of it.” He spat, eyes glowing bright red. “Or I will.”

You stared at him, mouth slightly parted, heart turning and churning and burning and hurting oh so much. How could he? His child, his own child… How could he say such things? How could he be so merciless? How could he want to… to kill the child you’d loved so unconditionally, even if for the past few hours?

It was horrifying. There was no word for it, it was truly horrifying, the way your Miguel was treating this matter. You’d looked at him with tears in your eyes, hoping that something, anything would leave your lips. But he’d opened a portal and left for HQ, leaving you alone in the middle of your living room.

So, you did the only rational thing.

You ran.

Jessica had helped you, along with Peter B. Parker.

Both were parents, so not only did they understand the way you felt towards your unborn baby, but also encourage you in your decision to leave Miguel. It broke Peter’s heart to find out the man that took care of the Spider Society had threatened to hurt his child and pregnant wife in the way.

But much to his sadness, he would have to act as if everything was fine and dandy, as if this man hadn’t threatened to kill a foetus, as if he wasn’t a monster. Peter would have to keep on interacting with him normally, in order not to raise suspicion. And so would Jess.

So, they did.

All traces of your existence had been removed from your shared apartment. Clothes, shoes, blankets. Anything that he could use to get the faintest trace of where you were was brought along with you, only his things and his things alone left behind.

It broke your heart to do it, but you had no choice. It was him or your unborn child, and although you’d known of your pregnancy for only a few hours, you were willing to do anything to assure its safety already.

You laid low for a while. Found a nice apartment where you could start over and build a life for yourself and your little one. Peter and Jess couldn’t keep you from going outside, so instead of trapping you, they helped disguise you. Both your appearance and scent changed every time you left the safety of your new home, with Jessica’s motherly instinct helping you find safety in new wigs and robes.

And so, your pregnancy went smoothly.

But it’s not to say it was easy – far from it.

Watching a baby grow inside of you all by yourself was terrifying. Not only was it terrifying, but it was also heartbreaking. Especially when the father of said baby had threatened you and him. It was even worse when you heard from Jessica that he was actively looking for you, coaxing every Spider in the Spider-Society to find you and destroy whatever was growing in your womb. How could he be so cruel? The possibility of someone killing your child just like that was frightening, but you managed to keep your fears aside for the well-being of your baby.

You could count with your fingers the peaceful nights you spent without a newborn toddler screaming and crying for your attention. For four whole years you were both mother and father, nursing and singing your baby to sleep whenever he was scared, kissing his wounds better, taking him to school, helping him talk and walk, watching him grow, looking over him the best you could.

There was no helping hand, no strong arms to hold your stomach during the day to ease your back pains, no soft rubs, and kisses on top of your belly at night, no proud displays of affection. When you gave birth to Gabriel, although surrounded by Peter and Jessica, there was no loving boyfriend or partner by your side, kissing your tears away, asking you to push, telling you you were “almost there”, holding your child in his arms and crying tears of joy, telling you you were oh so beautiful, to tell you that you were marvellous and miraculous and the most gorgeous woman alive.

While your heart could burst from the happiness of holding your son in your arms for the first time, it was also breaking at the realisation that, even if you had friends, there would be a major gap in your life that would scar you and your baby forever.

And there of course the questions. Gabriel was reaching his curious phase, and one time he had come home, asking why he did not have a daddy like his friends. That day you’d tried explaining it to him. You told him his father’s actions did not make you feel safe, and so you had to make the tough decision to protect the both of you and run away. You assured him that no matter what, you would love him unconditionally, that you were still a family, even if an unconventional one.

His reply was “Thank you mama, but I want a real daddy like my friends have!”

Tears streamed down your face until you fell asleep.

Gabriel was right. Even if he did not mean anything mean by it, even if his reply was something out of a clueless 3-year-old boy’s mouth and you shouldn’t take it to heart because he didn’t quite grasp the reality of your situation… It was still true. He needed a father, his father. You could try and try and try all you wanted, but he needed a father figure in his life, a role you’d never be able to fill.

The next day, you called Jessica and cried on her shoulders for a few hours while Gabriel was in school. She made up some stupid lie in order to be with you for the whole day, reminding you that children often said things they did not mean. Gabriel was a child; and children were way too straightforward, and it was not his intention to hurt you – wanting a father was a completely normal thing and you shouldn’t blame yourself for it.

But you’d be lying if you said it didn’t hurt.

At first, the life you shared with Gabriel was terrifying. What if Jessica said the wrong thing, or Peter made a mistake? Thankfully, they behaved remarkably well, always prioritizing your safety and well-being over their duties to Miguel. As time went by, more people were in on your little secret. And you couldn’t help but worry. What if Hobie decided to “stick it to the man” and inform Miguel of his son? What if Pav thought “the power of love” could fix everything? What if Gwen and Miles tried to talk some sense into his head?

But luckily for you, they were all as interested at keeping Gabriel under wraps as you were. And the reason it was so easy for you to keep Gabriel away from his father was also because of Lyla. She’d witnessed the whole exchange of course, being an artificial intelligent program meant that she was everywhere Miguel habited – and that meant his home. So, she too was in on your plan, keeping everything away from Miguel. Every visit from the Spider-People, every time Gwen or Miles babysat your kid, every time something remotely urgent happened, Lyla was there to cover your tracks, and everyone else’s.

You also suspected everyone else in HQ helped, refusing to let Miguel murder an innocent child, or even help him with it. You were grateful.

Miguel was completely in the dark, he had been for 4 whole years, and you were happy it was like this.

Your son got to grow up in peace, and you got to watch him. Or so you thought.

“Honey, have you washed your teeth?” You asked as your son made his way out of the bathroom. Before he could answer, you spotted the stain of toothpaste on his chin, and bent over to quickly wash it. “There. Dashing.”

Gabriel smiled a toothy grin at you. “I’m wearing my Snoopy PJs!”

“Well, you’ll always be dashing to me. Snoopy PJs or any other kind of PJs.” You poke his tummy softly and he bends over, as ticklish as always. Before you can open your arms and embrace him, your ringtone rings through the room. You wink at Gabriel and take your phone into your hands, looking at the name on the screen.

“Oh honey, it’s auntie Jess. Give me a few minutes and I’ll tuck you in, is that okay?”

“I wanna speak to auntie Jess!” He exclaimed excitedly, to which you nodded, before picking up.

“Hey Jess! What’s up?”

“He found you.” Was all you heard on the other line before you felt your stomach fall.

What?

You couldn’t make out her words at first, but slowly, everything around you came to your consciousness again.

“Take him and go. [Y/N], can you hear me? You have to leave. I’m so sorry, we don’t know how he found out, but you need to take him and leave, now.” Jessica repeated these words urgently like a chant, and yet, all you could do was stare at Gabriel, his big eyes round and bright, his head titled to the side as he often did when confused, the little triangle in his brow all Miguel O’Hara.

You couldn’t move. Miguel had found out.

Shit.

And then someone knocked on your door. Loudly. Repeatedly. The sound echoed and rang in your ears, and it was Gabriel who brought you back to your senses by hugging your leg.

“Mama?” He inquired, looking at the door.

“Stay here. You hear me? Stay here, do mama a favour and stay here. Can you do that?”

Gabriel gave you a quick salute, a smile playing in his lips. He probably thought this was some silly game in which he acted like a big boy and his mama high-fived him and made him some chocolate milk as a reward. But unfortunately for you, there was nothing silly about this.

Your feet slowly dragged themselves to the front door, and you mustered all of the strength you had to open it.

With a deep breath, you turned the knob and pushed it open, revealing no one other than the one you feared the most.

Miguel.

You try to block the entire door with your figure, but Miguel is tall. Incredibly so. And while it used to make you squirm and gush and blush, it now fills you with a sense of dread you cannot shake away.

He takes a step forward and you speak, voice sounding braver than you were feeling.

“Leave.”

“[Y/N].”

“Miguel, I’m warning you, leave.”

He grumbled something under his breath and took another step, looking directly under him – at you. You used to love when he did it. It made you feel safe, protected, cherished. Now all you want is for him to back off.

“I do not want to force you. Let me come in, or I’ll have to. Please. The last thing I want to do is hurt you.” The worst thing about Miguel was that when it came to you, he was always genuine. He never lied to you. And that did not change now. He looked almost… Scared. There was a mix of anger and sadness and… was that betrayal? In his eyes?

Nevertheless, it made you vulnerable. Such a hurtful expression from the one you once loved… You couldn’t lie and say it did not make your heart twist a few times.

“He threatened to kill your child. His child, too.” You told yourself, shaking all those soft feelings away. No use being weak, not when you wanted to protect your son.

Still, he looked genuine when he said he did not want to hurt you. And it’s not like you can take him on your own, the man is literally 6’9, built like a Greek god, and Spiderman. You wouldn’t stand a chance, and your son needs to be protected. So, you slowly back away from the door, keeping your front to Miguel and your back to Gabriel.

You take a few steps back and are about to ask him what he wants, when a small voice interrupts you.

“Mama? Who is this?” Your son, your sweet, caring, clueless son asked, his neck craning all the way up to get a good look at Miguel.

Gabriel was a big fan of Spiderman – much to your chagrin – so the thought that maybe Miguel was wearing his suit terrified you. The last thing you wanted was for your son to idolize the man who threatened to kill him while he was nothing more than just a foetus. You quickly turned, taking in Miguel fully.

He was clad in casual clothes, a white shirt underneath a black leather jacket. He was dressed normally, thank God.

Miguel’s eyes widened at the tiny voice, and he looked at the child before him.

His eyes widened.

It all clicked in his head.

His eyes darted from you to him, from him to you, over and over and over and over again. He seemed to be making the connection in his head. Soft brown curls, furrowed brow, tiny nose that resembled yours and bright eyes that belonged to none other than the woman he loved.

This was his son.

“Mama?” He asked once again, tiny hands grasping at the loose sweatpants you usually wore around the house. Tiny fists curled around the fabric as he hid behind you.

You stared, wide-eyed at Miguel. You were silently begging for him not to cause a scene, not here, not in front of your baby, most certainly not at all.

“Please…” You whisper, nudging your head towards the little guy by your feet.

After a few seconds of dead silence and a stare off, Miguel hung his head low and nodded. You sighed in relief.

“Honey, time for bed. Mommy’s gonna tuck you in, alright?” Gabriel nodded and clung to you as you picked him up securely in your arms. Tucking his little hair in the crook of your neck, you slowly took his scent in. Citrus shampoo, the lavender fabric conditioner you knew he liked, he smelled like your darling song through and through, untainted by the evil and darkness of the world, untainted by the hands and knowledge of his father.

Once he was all tucked in, teddy loyally by his side, Gabriel reached out to hold your hand in his tiny hand.

“Mama?” He probed quietly, drowsy eyes twinkling with the gentle glow his dinosaur lampshade.

“Yes, honey?” He was about to ask about the mysterious man in your living room, you were sure of it. You just weren’t quite sure what you were going to tell him yet. The truth? He couldn’t know. At least not now. Not when Miguel was just a few rooms away, waiting patiently for you. Not when you had no idea if he was still violent.

“Who is that man?” Gosh, he looked so much like his father. The furrowed brow, the squinted eyes, and pouty lips. When he was born, you huffed and puffed to Peter, saying how unfair it was that your son had inherited Miguel’s looks, even though you were the one breaking your back to carry him – and then later, take care of him.

“He’s… He’s an old friend.” Technically not a lie. Miguel had been your friend once.

“Is he the one in the pictures that make you cry?”

Oh.

What?

Noticing your confused expression, Gabriel spoke again, shrugging.

“Sometimes you cry in the living room when you look at pictures… Is he the one in them?”

Were children supposed to be this curious? Or perceptive?

How come he had picked up on you crying? It was true, sometimes your hands instinctively reached out to the old photo albums you kept on the top shelf of your living room wall cabinet, far from his reach.

There was no need to lie to your son – not when he was so smart and cared so much, not when he was so perceptive.

“Yeah, baby.” You sighed, running a hand through his hair. “He is.”

“Why do you cry? Did he do something to make you sad?” The worry in his eyes was inevitable. If the situation weren’t so scary, you’d laugh. Your sweet child, always so worried about you.

“Yeah, he did. He made mommy very sad, that’s why she cries.”

“Did you like him?”

Tears prickled at the corner of your eyes, and you fought them back. “Be strong”, you thought. You always played the part of the strong caretaker, the fearless mother who protected him against the dangers of the world – but right now, with Miguel waiting outside, you weren’t sure you were strong enough anymore.

“Yes, pumpkin. Very much. Very, very much.” You removed your hand from his hair and moved it to his round, chubby cheek. “Mommy loved her friend a lot. And I was very sad when he hurt me. Incredibly so.”

“Do you miss him?”

The question hung in the air.

Miguel was still asleep.

Today was one of those days he had decided to remain home, take a break from all the stressing Spiderman stuff and just relax.

He looked so handsome like this, lips slightly parted to breathe in and out, cheek smushed against his pillow, legs entwined with yours, arm lazily thrown across your waist. You loved him like this, before the burdens and responsibilities of the suit dawned upon him, before he was a superhero and was simply Miggy.

You’d been tenderly running a hand through his curls, enjoying the view before you. Such a handsome man, such a kind soul. Sure, he was rough with everyone else, but with you? Away from the prying eyes and annoying questions? Away from the screens and all of the Spider Society duties?

He was plush. Soft, sweet, mellow, delicate.

You were whipped for this man, truly.

He stirred awake next to you, grumbling something in Spanish you couldn’t quite hear, and shuffled closer, lips quick to latch onto the column of your neck.

“Buenos dias hermosa…” He murmured against your skin, voice groggy and deep, earning the sweetest sigh from you. His grip on your waist tightened and you turned to him, smiling. He was such a vision.

“Morning, handsome.” You smiled, tugging on his curls to tilt his head towards you. He chuckled and kissed you tenderly, as if you were a figment of a dream he hadn’t yet abandoned and could disappear at any time.

You decided to remind him you weren’t going anywhere, pressing yourself against him to kiss him harder, obtaining the most delicious moan from your boyfriend. He pulled you closer by your waist, and with a quick movement, was on top of you, arms and hands caging you beneath his figure.

“Felling cheeky, aren’t we, mi vida?”

“I’m just kissing you Miguel, nothing cheeky about that.” You were quick to defend yourself, giving him a smug look.

He lowered himself, ghosting his lips over yours, almost as if on the brink of promising the entire world to you. Instead of doing that, he laid down, hair barely grazing your breasts as he placed soft kisses on your stomach.

You knew this look.

For a while now, the conversations about children and family had become more frequent. Miguel would catch you staring at baby clothes at the mall, or interacting with toddlers who looked and waved at you, and his heart melted. You had mentioned wanting a family before but were waiting on his signal. You knew Miguel had gone through something horrible – losing the family the way he did… You couldn’t imagine how that must’ve felt.

So, you waited.

And lately, he seemed to be on the same page.

Last week, when you two had gone to the mall, he’d found you staring at a baby blue stroller, and the expecting couple examining it. You sighed, hands slowly trailing up to your stomach. Someday you hoped that would be you.

And it was then Miguel realised that he would want nothing more than to see you pregnant with his child, round and soft and plush and his, for the whole world to see.

He could picture it, you sitting in your garden, sunbathing and applying lotions on your baby bump, and him, by your side, kissing your forehead and placing his hand on your stomach to feel his child kick.

You, waddling over to him when your cravings got the better of you, begging him to get you some pickles and strawberry jam, promising nothing in this world you make you happier or satisfy you more – even if the combination did seem disgusting. ~

You, sitting down on a big chair, breasts exposed as you gently nursed your child. Your baby would have its tiny, miniscule hand on your chest as he drank your milk, and Miguel would be watching from the doorway as you fed your son, before placing him to sleep.

He could see himself too.

Playing with his child in the park, teaching his son how to play football, helping his daughter score goals, lifting his child over his head once they won their first game, reading them bedtime stories and saying “Don’t tell your mom” whenever they got into trouble.

It was all so very vivid.

“Miguel?”

He could picture it all, reach before him and grasp it.

“Honey?”

How pretty you would look, all swollen with his child.

“Earth to Miguel?”

Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and he sighed, kissing your stomach.

“Mi vida, I think…” He looked up at you, fondness and love nearly spilling from his gorgeous brown eyes and held your hand in his. “I think… How would you feel about starting a family with me?”

There. It was out. He’d said it.

And although he knew what your answer would be, his heart still flipped when your eyes turned into crescents, and your lips curled into a gorgeous smile.

“A family? With me? Really?” You sounded so fucking happy; it made his heart swell. Was it possible to love someone as much as he loved you?

“Yeah,” Miguel replied, and pressed his hand against your stomach. He could almost feel it. Picture your baby bump, feel the soft kicking of your child against your stomach, a silent reminder that it was alive and breathing and waiting to meet you. “A family. You and I and our child… What do you say?”

You giggle – you giggle! And por Dios if it isn’t the most gorgeous sound he has ever had the blessing of hearing. If anyone asked what Miguel’s favourite type of music was, he’d probably say it was the sound of your laughter. Either that, or the pretty mewls you make for him when it’s late and he’s needy and you’re oh so pliant.

“I say it’s perfect!” Hands fly to his hair, and suddenly he’s being pulled towards you, lips hungrily crashing onto his. You kissed him with everything you had. All of the love you felt for him, the love you felt for the family that was yet to come, the joy, the laughter, you tried expressing it all through this kiss.

And he smiled because nothing would ever make him as happy as you do. Nothing would ever get him to smile as much as you do. Nothing would ever complete his life the way you did, and he was so, so grateful for that. He kissed you back, hands carefully placing themselves on your hips to steady you, yours gripping his jaw to bring him closer.

When you parted away from air, he looked at you through lidded eyes, a very familiar form of desire dancing in the brown of his irises. You smiled sheepishly and watched him shrug his shoulders.

“Well, I guess… Since we’re on the topic of baby making…” He whispered near your ear, relishing in the full body shiver it elicited from you.

“Now who’s the cheeky one?” You faced him, brow comically raised at him.

You were so cute; Miguel could just eat you up.

And there was no one to stop him.

“Shh, hermosa, don’t give me that.” Barely a whisper, and yet it made heat pool in your lower belly, and your face warm upr. “I’m just saying, we should start practicing.”

With one swift movement, he was between your legs and your laughter filled the room.

Everything seemed right in the world.

Not at all. Not anymore.

“No, I don’t.” You absentmindedly ran your finger through Gabriel’s hair, “Not anymore. Right now, I have you, and you’re all I need.”

“Do you want me to draw a picture for you? I can draw a giraffe because I know you like them, and then you’ll smile and be happy.” This got a chuckle out of you. Always trying to cheer you up, this one, no matter what.

“Mommy would love it if you drew her a picture of a giraffe. It’d make me super happy.”

“Okay then! I’m gonna do it tomorrow, and I’m gonna use the crayons Mrs. Camille gave me, so it will look extra special –“ Before your son could continue, you smiled and ran an index finger from his forehead to the tip of his nose, a small gesture between the two of you, one that had a bazillion meanings. But right now it meant something around “Time for bed”.

Gabriel looked up sheepishly, shrugging.

“Can you sing for me?”

You felt slightly self-conscious about singing to him, especially since Miguel was standing right in the other room, and you used to sing this song to him.

“Let him hear”, you thought. He meant nothing to you anymore. This song was no longer his.

The song came to you naturally as you stroked Gabriel’s curls and watched his cheeks huff and puff, his slow breathing reminding you that he was here, safe and sound.

“Querido Cada momento de mi vida Yo pienso en ti más cada día Mira mi soledad, mira mi soledad Que no me sienta nada bien, oh ven ya”

All it took was one single stanza and he was already fast asleep. You chuckled to yourself and kissed the top of his forehead. He looked so peaceful; you took a mental picture of this moment.

Because perhaps, it’d be the last one you’d have.

You took a deep breath and stood up, not wanting to delay what was to come any more. Miguel was standing in your living room. You couldn’t hide from him forever, and you weren’t going to.

Closing Gabriel’s door, you decided to once and for all, face the man who had broken your heart four years ago.

The fact that he spoke to you first didn’t surprise you – Miguel had always been straightforward. It was what he said that caught you off guard.

“Was that…?” He asked, clearly referring to the song.

Stay strong. Don’t waver. You have to be strong for your family.

“Yes. Yes, it was Querida.” Your voice sounded certain, confident. You weren’t feeling very confident, but the taste it left on your tongue was quite nice. It made you feel more and want more. A placebo, maybe, but right now, you took all the help you could get.

Miguel chuckled dryly, running a hand through his hair.

“Wow. I haven’t heard that song in… What? Four? Maybe five years?” How dare he act like everything was normal? Like you had simply forgotten to sing it for him, like instead of Querida, you’d started singing Para Siempre from Doreen Montalvo. He seemed too at ease.

“Yes, well. How sad.”

He stared at you, unsure of what to say. And was that regret on his face? Regret? Fear? You couldn’t tell. And it’s not like it mattered – Miguel had to leave. That much was final.

“And… And, well…” He stammered, eyes darting behind you, to the closed door of your son’s room. “He…”

“He’s yours.” You cut him off coldly. Why was he dancing around the subject? Miguel looked at you and swallowed harshly, scratching the back of his neck. You wouldn’t let him be meek and weak, you couldn’t. He had no right to. “What? Wasn’t that what you were going to ask?”

Miguel straightened himself, regaining some of the composure he’d lost earlier.

“I see.” He nodded and nudged his head towards your kitchen – that’s when you saw it.

“I did your dishes.”

Your brow furrows and your eyes widen all at once.

Your dishes?

“You were tucking, um, our, well, your, um… The kid. You were tucking him in, and I thought maybe I could be of help.” He looked so earnest it almost hurt you. Ever the gentleman, your Miggy. When you were together, no matter how late he got home, no matter how tired he was, Miguel still made time to help around the house. Cleaning, cooking, doing whatever it took to make sure you had no extra burdens.

But right now?

You didn’t care if he was Spiderman, you didn’t care if he was nearly 7 feet tall and wide and strong enough to snap you in two – you wanted to punch him in the face. Oh, so badly.

The anger took over you and you scoffed at him.

“Oh! You wanted to help, huh?” You leaned against the couch and raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “I see. Well, thank you for the help, Miguel. Unfortunately for you, I don’t need you to take care of household chores for me. Washing a few plates isn’t going to change anything.”

He winced at your words. Good.

“I just thought –“

“Well, you thought wrong.” You interrupt him once again. This conversation is not going to be about him. He’s not the victim, he’s not the vulnerable one. He doesn’t get to be vulnerable.

“[Y/N], we need to talk.”

“No, we don’t. You need to leave, and I need to get some sleep.”

“No, please, we need to talk. We have to.” He sounded desperate. Goodness, you loved it. His eyes were filled with something you’d never seen before. The bags under them reveal he must not have been getting a lot of sleep, and he kept pinching the bridge of his nose as if in exhaustion. You weren’t naïve – not anymore. You didn’t feel bad for him per se.

But seeing the man who once seemed to carry the weight of the world in his shoulders, who took care of an entire city and never even wavered, look so defeated… Well. It did pull at your heart strings a little bit. Maybe that’s why you nodded and gestured over to your couches, sitting down in one of them and waiting for Miguel to do the same.

Maybe that’s why you watched as Miguel sat on the couch facing the TV and waited for him to speak.

“[Y/N], I… Mierda… No sé por donde empezar…” He cursed under his breath, head hanging low.

“I don’t have all night, Miguel.”

Oh, how he missed hearing his name spill from your lips. But now, instead of filled with love and warmth, you spit the words almost like they are poisonous, like you can’t hold them on your tongue for more than two seconds without them corrupting you.

He supposed he did that to you.

“I suppose I should start by apologizing…” Miguel finally looked at you, brown eyes staring into yours. You’d have done anything for those eyes once upon a time. Not anymore. “[Y/N], that night, all those months ago… I can’t begin to explain how sorry I am…”

So he was here to apologize? Was that it? Did you even want to hear his apology? Were you going to forgive him?

“When I told you those things, when I told you to…” He averted his gaze for a few seconds, probably too ashamed to look at you as he remembered telling you to kill your child. And you felt good that he was ashamed. He deserved to be. “I wasn’t thinking straight. I was scared. Scared it would happen again, what happened to my sweet Gabriella… I lashed out on you, and I scared you. I’m so sorry.”

You nodded once, and upon hearing no reply from you, he continued.

“I… I really have no excuse other than that. Seeing Gabriella disappear right before my eyes, it… Mierda, it really scared me. So, when I read that test, when I saw you were pregnant, I was afraid it would happen again.”

Miguel found you staring at him, unimpressed, unmoved. Did his words mean nothing? Had he reached you?

“So?”

“So, what?”

“Is that why you came here? To apologize?” You questioned him, brow quirked.

“Well, yeah. You deserve an apology mi vi- [Y/N]. What I did to you was inexcusable. And yet, I hope that someday you manage to find it within your heart to forgive me. You know I’ve never lied to you, and I’m still telling you the truth when I say I’m so, so, so sorry. I’m ashamed of how I behaved, I was a monster, and you didn’t deserve that.”

For some unknown reason, his words made you weak, if only for a few seconds. You saw in front of you, your Miguel, your sweet, sweet Miggy who brought you breakfast in bed, who kissed your period cramps away, who carried you when you were too tired to walk, who treated you like you were God’s gift to green earth. You saw him scared and vulnerable and hurt, and all you wanted to do was take him in your arms and hold him tightly until all of the pain was nothing but a distant memory.

But you also couldn’t ignore the other Miguel, the Miguel who had jumped and punched a wall and yelled at you, demanding you to get rid of your baby, and forcing others to do it. No matter how much you had once loved him, Gabriel was your life now, and you couldn’t allow yourself to feel soft over someone who would do something so inhuman as threaten an unborn child.

“Thank you for the apology.” You told him. “Now, if you would excuse me, I have things to do. Now, please leave.”

He seemed confused by that. Leave?

“Wait – what?”

Standing up, you gently adjusted the couch you were sitting on, and shrugged at him.

“Yes. I have heard your apology, and now I want you to leave.”

“Well, what is your response?”

“To what?”

“To the apology.”

“I’m not accepting it.”

“What?”

What was he expecting? You to run into his arms with tears of joy, kissing him until he was dizzy and proclaiming his love for him? Was that it?

“You heard me,” You crossed your arms, “I’m not accepting your apology.”

“But – I thought – “

“You thought what, exactly?” Now your words were pure venom, meant to poison his skin and hurt his heart. You wanted him to feel a least a fraction of the hurt and pain he caused you, of the heartbreak he submitted you to. “That you could just come in here after I actively ran from you, after I tried to hide, and you would solve everything by washing my dishes and giving me a half-assed apology?”

“[Y/N], I told you what happened, I’m sorry, I was scared – “

“How do you think I felt, huh?” You felt the rage in the back of your throat. It hurt. It felt nice to let your anger out, to direct it at him, the source of your ache. “How do you think I felt when you threatened my baby? Were you also scared when you sent your Spider-People after my child and I?”

“What?” Miguel looked at you, dropping his hands to his sides.

“That’s right. I’m not stupid, Miguel, I know what you did. You asked for them to search for me, and to kill my son. You think all of that is washed away simply by apologising?”

“I was afraid you’d disappear on me too!” He pleaded, hands gesturing to his chest. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I don’t know what else to say, how else to show you how heartbroken I am…”

“Well then, perhaps you should’ve thought about all that before you decided to have a child with me, Miguel. You don’t get to do this – You don’t get to picture a future with me, with our family, you don’t get to tell me you’re ready only to then threaten us. You should’ve voiced those concerns instead of taking it out on me. You got me pregnant and didn’t even deal with the consequences of your actions!” You threw your hands in the air, desperately trying to make him see your side. Could he not understand the gravity of the situation?

“You should’ve told me. We would’ve worked something out, Miguel, I knew we would’ve.” Your vision becomes blurry – all these emotions aren’t really helping your “Don’t waver” plan, but at this point you just need to vent your frustrations. “But what you did? It felt like betrayal. We were trying for a baby, and when I finally got pregnant, you threatened us. I know what happened to you in the past, and I can’t imagine how it must’ve hurt, but it is no excuse for what you did to me.”

For a while, the both of you were silent. There was nothing else to say.

“What’s his name?” He asked silently, looking at Gabriel’s door.

You hesitated, but figured telling him what you had named your child probably didn’t hurt.

“Gabriel. His name is Gabriel.”

His eyes twinkled in acknowledgment. You had wanted to name your son anything that had nothing to do with his father, but you couldn’t. You considered that your last act of kindness towards Miguel.

“After my brother?”

“Who else?” You looked away.

“He… He’s beautiful. He looks…”

“Like you, I know.” You’d made your peace with it, sure, but sometimes it still stung that your child looked nothing like you, you who carried him and took care of him and fed him and rocked him to sleep. Instead, he was a near perfect copy of his father, opting to act like you, rather than look like you.

“How is he?” Miguel felt scared to ask. He wasn’t sure if you were going to tell him anything – and why should you?

“He’s… He’s the greatest kid ever. He’s smart and kind, and so considerate. He’s his own little man, even though he’s only four years old…” A smile spread across your lips, as you always did when talking about your son. He was your pride and joy, after all.

“Will I…” Miguel hesitated. You know what’s coming. “Will I get to meet him?”

“No. Not if I can help him.”

Miguel’s lips formed a tight line.

“[Y/N], he’s my son too –“

“No, he’s not. You might be related by blood, but that doesn’t make him your son, and it most certainly doesn’t make you his father. You lost that right when you threatened to kill him, and sent your goons to do it.” Your voice was getting louder, so you tried to lower it. The last thing you wanted was to wake Gabriel up.

“You can’t do this. I have a right to see him.” Miguel’s voice was also getting louder. Not only that, but he had also gotten up, towering over you. So much for weakness and desperation, this Miguel looked the same as the one you left four years ago.

“You don’t, that’s the thing. I don’t trust you around my son. I’ve spent the past four years trying to protect him from you, and I’m not going to stop now.” As if by instinct, you placed yourself right in front of him, blocking his passage to Gabriel’s room. Could he snap you in half and get to him by himself? Yeah. Were you going to let that stop you? No.

“What did you tell him? What lies did you tell our son?” Was it just you, or were his eyes turning red?

“My son. And I told him the truth, that his father wasn’t making me feel safe, so I had to run in order to protect him.”

Miguel visibly flinched at those words. He never wanted to make you feel unsafe, never.

“I understand I made a mistake, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t be a part of his life.” His expression changed to something darker – you weren’t sure how long you had until he snapped. A mistake? How dare he downplay his actions like this?

“That is precisely what it means. I want you away from my son.”

“He needs a father. What if – what if he inherits my abilities, huh? What are you going to do then?”

That’s when you snapped.

“He needs ME!” Hot tears streamed down your face, and you did not try to stop them. “Do you understand? Me. I am his mother. I cared for him for the 9 months he was inside of me, scared shitless because I didn’t know what you might do if you found us. I took care of him for 4 whole years. I was the one who fed him, I was the one who changed his diapers, I was the one rocked him to sleep when he cried and I’d been awake for hours, I was the one who gave up everything and started from scratch because of him! And what did you do? You whispered pretty things in my ear and got me pregnant, and then got scared and proceeded to tell me to kill my child! That’s not something a father does!” The words kept spilling from your lips and there was no way to stop them. You could finally speak freely, get him to understand the pain he put you through.

“If my son happens to inherit your abilities, then I will take care of it. Just like I’ve been doing all these years, I will take care of it. You’ve done nothing for us, and we don’t need you. I don’t need you Miguel, I don’t love you anymore. My priorities in life have changed, and now they lie in the safety and well-being of my son. So, for once in your life, stop being so fucking stubborn and LEAVE!”

“Mama?”

Your heart fell as soon as you heard Gabriel’s scared voice.

Shit.

You turned to him, only to be meet with a teary-eyed child, holding onto his teddy bear way too tightly.

“Honey, I… I’m sorry… Did I wake you up?” Your voice was automatically gentler, lower, something above a whisper, something reserved for him and him alone. Right now, you didn’t care that Miguel was right there, angry, and tall, all you cared about was your son, who looked so, so scared it nearly killed you.

“I heard you yelling…” He murmured, running towards you and hiding his face on the crook of your neck. His tears fell on your skin and you allowed yourself to cry with him, clutching him close to you, afraid he’d disappear right before your eyes because of your actions.

“I’m so sorry…” You mumbled into his hair, hoping all the love and sincerity you felt right now could be translated into words. “Honey, I’m so sorry, mommy got angry and started yelling… I promise it won’t happen again… I’m so, so sorry…”

You felt Gabriel nod, and pressed your lips to his head, a thousand promises laced in one simple kiss.

Standing up and turning to Miguel, you gave him a serious look, despite your puffy face and red eyes.

“You should leave. For good.”

And for all his bravado, Miguel couldn’t help but melt when he looked at your son, at his round, bright eyes, and small pout. He might look like his father, but right now, he was all you. It killed him. He drove you to yell, he drove you to be mad and wake him up. Mierda. He’d fucked up again.

Miguel took his son in one last time, telling himself he’d keep an eye on him from afar, and nodded before walking away and leaving you alone in your living room.

You locked the door behind him, heart tightening.

You’d made the right choice.

“Would you mind sleeping with mommy tonight? I think I need my brave little boy to scare away the monsters…” You whispered.

This earned a chuckle out of Gabriel, who nodded and placed a hand on his forehead in a salute, no doubt imitating the cartoons he watched.

“I’m going to protect you!”

You smiled and took him to your bedroom once more, not even bothering to change. Your sweatpants were comfortable anyways.

Holding Gabriel close to you, you sighed when you heard him speak.

“That man said he was my father…”

You pressed your lips. However were you going to work this one out?

“Was he the one you wanted to protect me from?”

You let your hands run through his hair.

“Yeah, my love. He was.”

“How did he find us?”

That was a good question. With all of the yelling and anger, you’d forgotten to ask. But after all, this was Miguel you were talking about. He was a genius and would surely always find a way to you, sooner or later.

“I’m not sure. But he won’t hurt us. I promise.” You looked at him, offering him your best reassuring smile. Truth was, you weren’t sure he would follow you once again. But what you were sure of, was that you would always do your best to protect him and keep him safe.

Gabriel looked into your eyes and slowly wiped away what was left of your tears.

“It’s okay to be scared.”

No matter how used you were to it, it would always catch you by surprised how perceptive and intelligent your son was. You smiled slowly grabbing his hand and kissing it.

“I know.”

“Are you scared?” He asked again, his eyes droopy and his lips parting to let out a big yawn.

“I was a few minutes ago. But I’m gonna tell you a secret. That alright?” You moved your hand to cup his cheek.

“Mhm…” Gabriel mumbled, sounding like he was dozing off already.

“Mommy is never scared when you’re by her side.” It was barely a whisper, and you didn’t even know if he had heard it. Still, you added, “I’ll always be strong for you.”

A smile tugged at your lips as you watched his gentle breathing.

And then, words.

“I love you, mama.”

They were barely audible, but nevertheless, they were there.

A few tears managed to escape – tears of joy, of love.

You would always do your best to protect him. You’d always be there to hold his hand and watch him grow, watch him become his own person, cheering him on as he went.

No matter what came your way, no matter what happened, you’d always be there by his side. For the good things, for the bad things, for the so-so things. To hold him tightly when he felt clingier than usual, to pin his drawings on the fridge, to hear him babble about whatever new topic he’d discovered in school, even if you were tired beyond reason and all you wanted was for him to go to sleep so you could get some rest.

You’d be there to tie his shoes until he could do it by himself, and to clean his face whenever he got too excited with his lunch. You’d be there to explain to him what a “memamporphosis” was, and to listen to him explain to you why Spiderman was the greatest of heroes.

You’d be there when he cried, and when he laughed.

And be there when he wasn’t yours anymore.

Four years ago, you had chosen him, and you would always choose him, for as long as you breathed.

“I love you too, my sweet boy.”

Spanish Translations

Mi cielo - My sky Mierda - Shit My vida - My life Te amo con todo mi ser - I love you with all of my being Eres la luz de mi vida - You're the light of my life Estás embarazada? - You're pregnant? Perdóname - Forgive me Buenos dias hermosa - Good morning beautiful Querida / Querido - Dear (While Querida is meant for a female partner, Querido is meant for a male partner, both are a term of endearement and have the same meaning) No sé por donde empezar - I don't know where to start

If you'd like to check out the song's translation, you can check this page out!

I hope you enjoyed this! Have an amazing day ahead, please keep yourself hydrated and safe <3

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara x reader #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 reader #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x y/n

557 notes · View notes