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greensagephase · 7 months

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Nonviolent Communication - Part Eight

Miguel O'Hara x SpideyFemReader

Summary: Your spider senses go off in the middle of the night, and you can't figure out why. Miguel goes out on a mission alone.

Word Count: 14,258 (I think I can safely say this will be the last time it ever gets to this. I thought about splitting this part but didn't want to leave you guys on a cliffhanger.)

Warnings: Some violence; mention of blood; explosions; angst; death

Music inspo while writing (in order):

"Sleepwalk" - Santo & Johnny (instrumental)

"Les" - Childish Gambino (instrumental)

"Adrian" - Bill Conti (instrumental) (I watched some of the "Rocky" movies and thought this song was so beautiful and tender)

"Amor Eterno" (instrumental) (iykyk, and I'm sorry if you do)

***Beautiful fanart for Nonviolent Communication has been created by lovely artists and you can find it all linked in my masterlist under fanart. Please go and show some love to the artists!! Their art is BEAUTIFUL!! ❤️***

Part Eight

“The tension in the room right now is palpable,” Pav mutters as you and him stand side by side in Peter and Mary Jane’s living room.

“My bet is on Miles,” you reply quietly.

“Hm, I think Noir has this one,” he replies as the two of you look over at Miles and Noir.

“Miles has this in the bag,” Hobie murmurs behind you and Pav, making both of you turn around to look at him.

The three of you watch behind a couch as Miles and Noir, who are sitting on the floor around the living room’s console table, eye each other as they play UNO. The group started out with them, Hobie, Gwen, Pav, and you while Peter, Mary Jane, Penny, Margo, and Peter Porker watched. You were unfortunately the third one out followed by Hobie, leaving Noir and Miles as the two final players.

The others are watching from the couch, trying to hold their giggles. It’s Friday night, which means you and the rest of the group came over for dinner at Peter and Mary Jane’s universe. It’s a weekly dinner and one you’ve learned to love. It gives you something to look forward to on the weekend because it means you and your friends can relax and engage outside of work.

Peter and Mary Jane cook but the rest of you bring something over, which means that there’s usually a large dinner. Dinner always takes about an hour or so since you all catch up on what’s happening in your lives, which means that each week you and the other adults get to hear the younger people talk about school and some new drama. Of course, there’s also some talk about missions and anomalies considering most of you are spider-people. Then, after helping Peter and Mary Jane clean up, you all gather in the living room to play games.

Ten minutes later, Miles wins the game and Noir complains about the cards’ colors. After a good laugh, you all have a slice of cake, which you baked yourself, before everyone starts heading out. You say your goodbyes and thank Peter and Mary Jane for dinner before you head back to your universe. You change into your pajamas almost immediately, but you don’t head to bed just yet.

Instead, you grab a book from your bookshelf and take a seat on your couch. It’s ten p.m. on a rainy Friday night. You look around your apartment as you snuggle onto the couch with a blanket thrown over your legs. You open the book but you look up, your eyes taking in your small apartment.

It's officially four years since Peter’s death. His death anniversary was a couple of days ago and of course, there were some tears but for the most part, you handled it well. You visited him and spent some time at the cemetery. You went through some photo albums, taking a walk down memory lane.

Four years.

Where did the time go? You sigh as you look around your apartment. Time has gone by, but it doesn’t seem like it did in your apartment. It still looks the same as it did back when Peter was alive. It’s a personal choice. You wanted to keep everything the same. So, you have the same wall decorations the two of you hung together. The furniture is unchanged and it all remains in the original places you and Peter chose back in the day.

As you hear the soft pit pat of rain on your windows, you feel the urge to change some things around. Or maybe add new things.

You nod to yourself, thinking of what you’d like to do but decide to leave that for another day. It’s already a good sign you’re thinking of redecorating a little bit. You turn back to the book and begin to read, hoping that the reading and calm rain will lure you to sleep, which won’t be hard as you’re already feeling exhausted from the missions you were a part of today plus the patrolling of your city.

Soon enough, you notice your eyes begin to skip lines and you’re having to find your place multiple times. You decide to call it a night when you see it’s midnight. You do your night routine before you slide into bed, drifting off without any trouble.

Miguel stares at one of his many monitors, standing on his platform. His eyes scan the information before him despite it being two in the morning. He scrolls a bit to see more information. It’s all the data that was collected the previous day on anomaly matter from multiple universes. Of course, Lyla reads the information and always lets him know when there’s something worth discussing but Miguel often prefers to go in and check himself. As he finishes reading the data from a specific section, he stretches his back to relieve some of the tension. He hears his back pop, and he sighs in relief before he returns to reading.

Miguel has been sleeping once a week at his penthouse for multiple weeks now but tonight is not one of those nights. Tonight, he’ll stay here in his empty lab like most nights. Even if he wanted to go home, he can’t. He feels restless. He notices the time on his monitors, of course. He finds himself wishing it was day already and he doesn’t know why. He sighs to himself, closing his eyes for a few seconds trying to regain his focus, so he can concentrate on the data, but he cannot. His fingers move on their own and soon, he’s looking at a video of himself and Gabriella, when he gifted her a soccer ball. He stares at the video fondly, remembering her happiness when she saw the gift. He closes it before he gets off his platform with another sigh and begins to walk out of his lab.

He exits his lab into one of the many hallways of HQ, deciding to take a walk to clear his mind. Miguel doesn’t really pay attention to where he’s going. He’s just walking. He does this sometimes when his brain needs a moment during the long nights. He walks the empty hallways and cafeteria, eyes scanning the city from behind the large windows. He cannot make much of it due to the rain falling against the glass, which has created a blurry effect. Still, Miguel can see the faint lights of flying cars and other buildings’ lights in the distance.

He walks and walks. It’s early Saturday morning and here he is, walking through an empty HQ. He eventually returns to his lab. His mind feels more at ease but there’s still something that gnaws at him. He resumes his work at his platform, scanning his monitors. Everything looks fine. He sighs again and begins to read the data, but that feeling is still there. It’s like Miguel knows that at any moment, Lyla will appear and tell him that something’s wrong.

He moves the screen closer, willing himself to concentrate. To ignore the feeling, but five minutes later, one of his screens flashes red and Lyla appears.

“Miguel – two anomalies have been detected. Earth-42. They just entered the universe.”

And there it is. Miguel’s mask immediately covers his face as he leaps off his platform.

“Two anomalies… Who are they? Are they in the system?” Miguel asks as he starts clicking on his gizmo, preparing to open a portal to travel.

“One of them is a Green Goblin version. The other one is not in our system. First time,” Lyla reports.

Miguel nods, wasting no time once the portal opens. He steps out onto a rooftop on Earth-42, the same one that was cleaned up by Miles and his variant from this Earth over a year ago when he ended up sent here by the Go Home Machine. As Miguel steps out onto a rooftop, he’s unable to stop himself from briefly scanning the city. What a difference. The city is well lit, calm, and there’s still a buzz of people despite the time and rain but Miguel quickly focuses on the task at hand, putting his thoughts behind.

He looks around the area, trying to catch sight of the anomalies. He spots the first one, an unknown anomaly running in circles on the street below. There’s no sight of the Green Goblin, however, so he decides to catch this strange anomaly first and then pursue the Green Goblin.

As he heads straight for the anomaly, Miguel’s eyes scan it, trying to get an idea of how dangerous it might be. The body is a white cybernetic one. The head, which is a male human head, is inside a container filled with liquid. Glass makes up the front portion of the container, making it possible for the anomaly to see and a few hoses run through the anomaly’s body, leading Miguel to make the educated guess it’s the way it sustains itself. He also notices that this anomaly only has one hand, while the other arm has a clamp at the end.

Just before Miguel lands on the ground, he prepares a trapper-keeper, ready to trap the anomaly to transport it to HQ. The anomaly, however, begins running away from him as soon as it spots him.

“Running already?” he mutters, as he starts chasing it. “Lyla, keep me updated on the Green Goblin, you know how they get with their little explosions.”

“The Green Goblin has moved further away,” Lyla answers, making Miguel groan. “Maybe you should call for backup.”

“No, I got this. Just keep me updated on the Goblin’s movements.”

“Whatever you say, boss.”

Lyla disappears, leaving Miguel to do his job. He runs before he leaps into the air, reaching an incredible height as he heads straight for the anomaly. The anomaly somehow senses his attack as it turns around and meets Miguel with its clamp, clawing at him to prevent any blows. The anomaly’s moves don’t deter Miguel though as he takes hold of the clamp before he pushes the man to the ground.

The anomaly uses his one hand to land a punch on Miguel’s thigh before he swipes one of his long cybernetic legs around Miguel’s lower body, knocking him to the ground. The anomaly runs off to a building, hoisting himself up by perforating the walls with the clamp.

Miguel quickly gets up, chasing after it. He shoots his web, wrapping it around the anomaly’s body and pulling but the anomaly puts up a good fight and ends up sniping the web with the clamp once it reaches the rooftop. Miguel spends ten minutes doing this: almost trapping the anomaly before it gets away.

“The Green Goblin is moving further away but there is no trouble detected. It’s like – it’s just waiting,” Lyla reports, sounding confused with the behavior of the Green Goblin.

“Waiting for what?” Miguel asks, in frustration as the anomaly keeps leaping off buildings.

“I don’t know.”

Miguel scowls, done with this already. In a rage of frustration, he shoots his webs and catches the anomaly in midair before pulling it towards him. Miguel is quick to jump, meeting the anomaly halfway before he delivers a blow to the head. It sends the anomaly crashing on a rooftop with a loud thud.

“You little-” the man says as he starts standing up, but he doesn’t have the opportunity to finish his sentence as Miguel lands on the rooftop and captures it with the trapper-keeper.

“Finally,” Miguel mutters, as he walks over to inspect it but before he even reaches it, he receives a heavy blow to his head, caught by surprise. “Green Goblin,” Miguel says angrily as he turns around.

“Hello, Spider-Man,” the Green Goblin greets him as he hovers in the air with his glider. “You look very different from my own Spider-Man.”

“That’s because you’re not in your universe,” Miguel answers annoyed as he lunges himself at the Goblin.

He knocks the Goblin off the glider, leading to the two of them landing on the rooftop before they begin hand to hand combat. The two men land blows on each other as the captured anomaly tries to break out of the trapper-keeper to no avail. Miguel notices this and it’s at this moment of distraction that the Goblin seizes his opportunity. He pulls out the Goblin trident and aims at Miguel’s hand, hitting his gizmo in the process.

Miguel immediately turns to the Goblin, retrieving his hand. He takes a quick glance at the gizmo before scowling at the Goblin, who’s about to take another swing at Miguel. Miguel blocks it this time and throws a punch at him, sending him flying. The Goblin lands on the floor, quickly getting up on his feet and like every other Green Goblin in the multiverse, the cunning man pauses for a second, tilting his head as he stares at Miguel with interest. His eyes flicker to the strange device on this Spider-Man’s wrist. He grins behind his green mask before he dashes at Miguel, trident in hand.

Miguel and the Green Goblin continue to fight. Miguel successfully dodges the trident several times, but the Green Goblin only seems to be fueled by this. He swipes at Miguel with the trident, finally slicing his skin under the suit. Miguel winces, pressing his hand to his body briefly, a moment the Green Goblin takes to hit the gizmo again.

“I’ve had enough of you,” Miguel mumbles, as his talons extend.

“That’s a new one,” the Green Goblin comments, referring to the talons, before he jumps off the rooftop.

And of course, Miguel O’Hara never gives up, so he runs after the Green Goblin under the pouring rain. He watches as the anomaly lands on its glider before he flies off, laughing at Miguel. With a scowl, Miguel shoots his web and starts following him, catching up with the anomaly in no time.

“Catch, Spider-Man!” the Green Goblin says pulling out one of its many grenades before he throws it at a building.

Miguel charges towards it, successfully stopping it from detonating but what he doesn’t sense is the Green Goblin coming from behind with his trident. He hits Miguel’s gizmo again with a strength that manages to crack the screen. He swipes at Miguel once more, slicing his skin almost in the same place as earlier before he flies off. Miguel shoots his web to keep himself from falling to the ground.

“Mierda!” Miguel yells as he swings, clutching the same area that was sliced.

He looks down at his gizmo, noticing the crack on it. It should continue working, Miguel thinks to himself, knowing that he and Lyla spent a lot of time making sure the device would be durable. It would take a lot to break it.

And it becomes the Green Goblin’s mission to do so. As Miguel and the anomaly continue their fight through the city, the Green Goblin aims hit after hit on the device, cunningly planning blows as he realizes the Spider-Man before him doesn’t sense his moves like the superhero from his own universe.

“Don’t let him hit the gizmo, Miguel!” Lyla warns, as the Green Goblin makes another swing.

And so, after what feels like an hour of fighting, the green mask man succeeds.

“Migu-” Lyla starts but doesn’t finish.

The gizmo’s screen shatters, and Miguel immediately knows it when he sees the colors of the device fade and Lyla’s holograph disappearing, making Miguel cuss under his breath as he realizes what this means. He needs to catch the Green Goblin soon, before he starts glitching.

The Green Goblin, however, has other plans as he flies off towards a skyscraper. He immediately pulls out more of his grenades, throwing them at the building. Miguel rushes and jumps into the air to try and stop them from detonating and as he works on this, the Green Goblin flies to him, quickly stabbing him with his trident in the stomach. He laughs at Miguel as he twists the trident to add more pain before flying off just as one of the remaining grenades goes off, blowing up a part of the skyscraper. Miguel, who is falling in midair due to the injury, covers his face as debris bursts around him. He feels some of it, glass from the windows, dig into his body causing him to groan in pain.

The adrenaline of it all still allows him to shoot his webs, preventing himself from falling. Except he glitches. For the first time in his life, Miguel experiences firsthand what it feels like to be an anomaly. He feels the shock of it in his body as he’s falling again since his web gave out in the process of glitching. The glitching stops and he tries again, catching himself on time. He lifts himself up onto a rooftop to collect himself, but the pain is there. He looks around quickly, there’s no sight of the Green Goblin. Miguel breathes heavily, the action making pain course through his body. He looks up at the city as he feels blood gush under his suit, where the trident puncture his body.

“Mierda,” Miguel mumbles out of breath, realizing what his situation means. No one knows he’s here. It’s the middle of the night and he’s injured, unable to travel back to his universe because his gizmo is broken. The realization dawns on him.

This might be it.

As the realization hits him, Miguel looks around the city. The rain is going strong, and he can hear sirens in the distance. He must move somewhere else. The tallest building catches his eye right away. He makes one last swing, forcing himself to climb the building despite the pain but thinking that if this is it, he wants to have a nice view. He thankfully doesn’t glitch on his way up, allowing him to make it to the rooftop. He collapses against a wall, next to the building’s door that leads to the rooftop. Miguel stares out into the city as he lays on the ground, clutching his stomach. The adrenaline is wearing off, and he knows it because his body feels weaker now. He begins to feel the pain more as it runs through his body. He can feel blood under his suit, gushing out slowly and his breathing feels more labored now.

Miguel looks at his gizmo again, as if hoping that the device will magically function, but he knows better. There’s no way to return to his universe. He sighs, the action taking more effort than it should as he lets his mask off, wanting his face to feel the rain.

What a way to die. In another universe that isn’t his home. Alone on a rooftop as rain cascades down on him. His hair is damp and it’s sticking to his forehead, but Miguel makes no attempt to fix it. His face – no – his entire body feels cold, which is a strange feeling for Miguel. His body heat has always prevented him from being cold but his body – the one he has pushed to its limits for years now – fails him now.

Miguel tries to ignore it. He tries to focus on the city and the skyscrapers. It’s a lovely sight and he can’t help but remember the day he was here with you many months ago when he assigned you to work with him for the first time. It was daytime and the sight was wonderful. He can’t help but think that you would love the sight even more at night.

As he stares out into the city, he can’t help but also think how ironic this is. Miguel is about to die on Earth-42. The very same universe linked to the whole mess with Miles. It seems so far away now, Miguel thinks. When he was set on preventing Miles from saving his father so he wouldn’t break the canon. It was such a messy situation. He acted in a way he’ll never be able to take back even if everyone else moved on.

Now, here he is. On Earth-42, in a far different city than the one he met when he first ventured into the multiverse. It’s almost like a slap in the face. As if it was meant for him to think of this in his last moments. To see one of his biggest mistakes.

Miguel sighs again and this time, the action makes him hiss in pain. He can feel the blood. The pain is there but he tries to bear with it. He tries to distract himself.

As Miguel stares at the lights and the skyscrapers, his mind begins to wander off. He thinks of his family and flashes of memories run through his head. He sees his mom, when she was much younger and he was a kid, tending to his scraped knee. He sees her cooking in the kitchen of his childhood home.

He sees Gabriel sitting on his bedroom floor playing with his action figures, the same ones he begged Conchata for. He remembers the evenings they spent together, playing and pretending to be superheroes, not knowing what was in store for them in the future. He recalls the times when Gabriel was still so young and had nightmares. He found no comfort from his father, so he always went to Miguel’s bedroom. There, Miguel would comfort and assure him that it was just a bad dream and that it meant nothing. Despite Miguel’s comforting words, Gabriel always asked if he could stay with him, and Miguel could never say no.

“Gabrielito,” Miguel whispers, as he thinks of his little brother. His childhood face flashes in Miguel’s head before it morphs into Gabriel’s adult face. It was unfair, so unfair. Like any other older sibling, Miguel always thought he would be the first to pass away. He never imagined that it would be his little brother. He never imagined he would be taken away the way he was either. It was so unfair.

And as he thinks of Gabrielito, Miguel remembers a song his brother was very fond of. Surprisingly, the music is so clear in his mind as if it was only yesterday when the two of them drove to hang out with friends. As the older brother, Miguel was obviously the driver and Gabriel sat in the passenger seat, playing music. He remembers the first time Gabriel played it. He asked Miguel to be quiet and to just listen to it. And so, they had. They drove in silence as the instrumental song played, and it felt oddly nostalgic.

Miguel’s breathing slows down as the memories rush through his mind. They switch over to Gabriella. His time with her was short but they made so many memories. He can’t help but feel shame and pain in his chest as he thinks of her. Miguel has strayed away from his religion for some time now, but he hopes that if Heaven is real, that’ll he get to see her again. To hold her one more time. To apologize to her for lying. His wife comes to mind, too, of course, and so does the shame. He fell in love so quickly. His need to have a family blinded him so much, everything was rushed. Miguel can’t help but think now that he would’ve done things differently if he could. He wouldn’t have rushed into things. His wife had deserved better than him. Yet, he thinks fondly of the short time they had. He thinks warmly of the time he had a family even if it’s laced with shame and pain.

He lets his mind take him to those memories, back to those days that are long gone. As his mind is flooded with memories, he doesn’t notice the slowness of his breathing or heart. He doesn’t even feel the coldness of the wet ground or the cold raindrops that run down his beautiful face. He doesn’t notice that he’s staring at the city with half-lidded eyes now.

His mind goes through everything that happened in the last two years, including the fight and the multiverse hunt for Miles, which all lead to the last year. And of course, the last year leads to you. Your face flashes in Miguel’s mind. He thinks of the first time he met you when Jess introduced you. He thinks of the first weeks that you showed up with coffee to meetings before anyone else arrived and how he ignored the gesture. He remembers the day you volunteered to organize his lab thanks to Jess’s comment about the clutter. He sees different days combined into one memory of you chatting with Lyla as you worked, your voice and Lyla’s carrying to him, allowing him to hear bits and pieces.

He thinks of the day he showed up at your apartment and how he hated feeling something, which he now realizes was worry. Everything that has happened with you runs through his mind like a show. He sees your face, looking up at him on Dia de los Muertos, with that look of understanding in your eyes. He sees your arm reaching out to him when you wanted to comfort him. He sees you sitting on his kitchen island, eating the food he cooked on Christmas Eve. He remembers the ornaments and how yours was better than his. He recalls you showing up the next day. You brought cake and it was delicious. He remembers the two of you sat on the kitchen island again to eat, that time joined by Lyla, who asked questions as per usual.

He thinks of New Years Eve. You were invited to Miles’s universe, and you were sent to drop off food again. You stayed for a while once he mentioned that there was a huge firework show after the ball dropped, which meant that you spent the last and first minutes of the year with him in his penthouse.

Miguel’s heart continues to slow down as he thinks of the last year. You’re his friend. And he can’t help but feel disappointed that he’ll never be able to tell you face to face now. He wishes he could thank you. For everything. For the days you dealt with his coldness when he didn’t acknowledge you at all and left your coffee untouched. He briefly thinks about your excuse for taking him coffee. You lied much the same way he had lied about his reasoning for checking in on you that very first day. The day that led to your friendship. As Miguel’s eyelids further close, he thinks of how you’ll never know the truth about that day.

No one will.

Miguel’s heart beats slower and his body is cold as the rain continues to fall on him in the early morning. He listens to the soft pit pat as rain lands on the ground as the seconds tick by.

The same pit pat of rain can be heard on your apartment windows. The sound of it immediately fills your ears when you jolt awake from your sleep. A loud gasp escapes from your lips as you sit up on your bed. You sit, listening to the rain in the darkness of your bedroom as you try to catch your breath.

Your spider senses begin to go off, making you realize that’s what woke you up. You hurriedly jump out of bed and make a straight line to where you keep the two-way radio. You always keep the volume somewhat high during the night in case of emergencies but as you grab it and wait, there’s no feedback. Your eyes flicker to the clock on your nightstand. It’s three in the morning. You hurry to the windows of your apartment, pulling the curtains open to look out. There’s no sight of disturbance. If anything, the city looks at peace under the rain.

There’s not even the sound of traffic. All you can hear is the sound of rain but it’s there again. Your spider senses. Something is not right.

You hurry and get changed into your suit, not knowing what to do. Nothing looks wrong outside but you’re out of your apartment in less than three minutes. You swing from building to building as your eyes inspect the streets below. Your eyes search for anyone who might be in danger or anyone who might cause trouble.

Nothing.

You land on a rooftop to catch your breath. There’s a feeling of dread growing in the pit of your stomach. It’s one you’re all too familiar with as you’ve only ever felt this kind of dread once before. You try not to think of it but it’s impossible not to. The kind of dread that’s spreading through your body is the same kind you felt the day you lost Peter. You felt it spread like poison when you hurried to find Peter in the rubble. The feeling is branded into your mind and as you stand on the rooftop, overlooking the city still searching for trouble, you are overwhelmed by it once again.

You click on your gizmo and open a portal. If nothing is wrong in your universe, maybe there’s trouble somewhere else, you tell yourself. You quickly travel to all your friends’ universes within two minutes. Each time you arrive, you scan your friends’ cities but find nothing amiss. The cities are peaceful. You’re about to open another portal when your senses go off once again.

“What’s happening?” you mutter, as you look around one more time, seeing nothing.

You quickly head to HQ, finding yourself in the cafeteria. You walk through it quickly, feeling even more uneasy at the sight of a usually busy place being vacant of any life. Some of the lights are completely off, leaving pockets of darkness lingering around as you cross the cafeteria. You wonder where you’re even heading as you walk past the large windows of the Spider Society building, noticing the rain and the distant lights of flying cars.

Miguel’s city looks peaceful as well. Nothing seems wrong and yet that dread grows with each step you take, growing and clawing at your chest. Finally paying more attention, you realize you’ve made your way to Miguel’s lab. Perhaps there’s an anomaly threatening the entirety of the multiverse, you try to reason. Maybe that’s why you woke up.

You stand in front of Miguel’s lab and call for Lyla. Despite the uneasiness and dread running through your body, you still find it in yourself to ask for permission to enter his lab. You wait impatiently for the AI assistant to greet you but as the seconds tick by, there’s no sight of Lyla and your emotions intensify. It’s like a sign that something is definitely wrong. You call for Lyla one more time, saying her name louder and with more urgency as if that’ll help. Nothing. You burst into the lab, deciding to be sorry rather than safe.

“Miguel?” you call out, as you hurriedly enter his lab, hoping to find him on his platform surrounded by his many screens like always. “I’m sorry that I entered your lab like that, but Lyla is not responding, and my spider senses are goi-” you say, stopping when your eyes finally land on the platform.

Miguel’s screens are flashing red, not the usual marigold color you’ve grown accustomed to. And even worse yet, Miguel is nowhere in sight. You rush to the platform to get a closer look at the screens. They all read “DISCONNECTED.”

You stare in confusion but realize this must be the reason why Lyla didn’t respond earlier. You call out Miguel’s name again, but you’re met with a deafening silence. You take a deep breath in. Lyla is offline. The screens are flashing red. And Miguel is nowhere to be found.

You hurriedly try to reach Miguel through your gizmo, but your gizmo flashes a message, indicating that the recipient is disconnected. Your dread grows. There’s no way that Miguel would go offline like this. You’re halfway out of HQ when you reach out to Margo, the one person you know who can manage Miguel’s technology. As you head out into Nueva York, you pray for once that Margo is pulling one of her usual all-nighters. As you swing towards Miguel’s penthouse, Margo finally responds.

“Hey – what are you doing up this late? Something wrong?” Margo immediately asks.

You look down at her projected hologram from your gizmo. “Margo. Something is wrong with Miguel’s system. Lyla is offline and so is he. I think – I think something’s wrong. Can you please head to HQ and fix it? I’m on my way to Miguel’s penthouse to see if he’s alright,” you say, the words rushing out of your mouth, full of worry.

“Offline? That’s not – I don’t think Miguel would ever go offline,” Margo responds with a frown. “I’m going now to see what’s going on.”

“I’ll meet you there in a few minutes. Bye,” you say as her hologram disappears.

You quickly find Miguel’s building and swing to it, sticking to the walls. You climb it, until you reach the penthouse and look inside. All the lights are off and there’s no sight of Miguel anywhere. You climb onto the rooftop, immediately clicking on your gizmo to open a portal, pulling the coordinates that were sent to you on Christmas Eve months ago. You hurriedly walk through it, stepping into Miguel’s living room once again.

Your eyes scan the place quickly before you rush up the stairs. With each step you take, you feel that dread grow tenfold. You pray that everything’s fine. That you’ll only have to apologize to Miguel for coming into his home the way you are now. You pray that he’ll be in bed sleeping for once and that this is all some misunderstanding. You open the first door you come across, eyes scanning the room only to realize it’s an office. You open the next door and find a large, luxurious bathroom. The next room is a bedroom, but you immediately realize it’s not the master bedroom, so you rush to the next door, pushing it open. Your heart sinks as you take in the sight.

Miguel’s bedroom is empty, and his bed looks undisturbed, which means he’s not home. You rush back to the first floor before you sprint to the living room, gizmo already opening a portal. You travel back to HQ, popping up at the cafeteria before you rush to the lab, wondering if Margo has been able to fix the problem. All the while, your dread grows. You feel your chest tighten as you think of Miguel and his whereabouts.

You burst into the lab where you find Margo, opening and closing screens with the flick of her wrist. She looks over her shoulder before she continues to work.

“He’s not at home,” you manage to breathe out despite the tightness in your chest.

“This is – not looking good,” Margo says, making you freeze.

“What do you mean it’s not looking good?” you ask, staring at her back as she continues to work. Her words make your anxiety grow.

“Miguel’s gizmo is completely offline, which means… it’s broken. Wherever he is, the gizmo is not working at all,” she says as she opens another screen.

You bring a hand to your face, gripping your lower face as you look around the lab. You feel your breathing speed up while at the same time finding it difficult to even do so.

“Have you been able to get Lyla back online?” you ask shakily.

“I’m working on it. Just one more step,” Margo says in a rush, noticing your demeanor slowly crumbling apart. “She’s back! Lyla must know what happened.”

It takes a few seconds before Lyla appears and you waste no time.

“Lyla, where is Miguel?” you ask, stepping closer to her.

“Y/N! Miguel is hurt and stranded on Earth-42! There were two anomalies detected and he went out to handle them but one of them broke his gizmo and managed to injure him,” Lyla hurriedly explains the situation.

“Shit,” you mutter, and begin to open a portal. “What were his last coordinates, Lyla?”

“I’ll send them to you, please hurry! I don’t know how badly he was injured, and he must be glitching by now.”

“Inform Jess of what’s happening and see if we can get other members to help. Miguel may have moved from the last coordinates you have. We may need to search the city for him. Margo. Please stay here just in case we need any help with the system. I’ll keep you updated,” you say before you rush into the portal.

Rain pours down on you as you step into Earth-42. You waste no time in looking around at the city and instead run to the ledge of the rooftop. You lunge yourself to the next building, eyes scanning, trying to find any sign of Miguel. Lyla’s hologram appears from your gizmo as you fly to the next building, giving you Miguel’s last known location.

You swing from building to building, moving fast just as you see another portal from your peripheral vision.

“Y/N. Any sign of Miguel?” Jess asks, joining the search.

“Not yet,” you reply as you continue to swing.

“Others will be joining the search. They’re on their way,” Jess replies.

And sure enough, as you swing between buildings, you see multiple portals opening from various rooftops. You feel relief to see others joining and hope that with more people involved, the search won’t last long.

“Alright, everyone. Lyla has sent Miguel’s last location. He’s injured and probably glitching as his gizmo stopped working.”

You hear your colleagues’ replies as you head to the location. You briefly wonder about the anomalies. Were they caught or did they get away? You reach Miguel’s last location and immediately search the rooftop for any signs, but Miguel is nowhere to be seen. You turn when you hear someone else join you. Hobie gives you a nod before he searches the other side of the rooftop.

“Nothing,” he says.

You dash to the other rooftop, looking down at the empty and dark alleyways, hoping to find something.

“This rooftop looks disturbed. Looks like there was some fighting,” Hobie communicates.

You locate him and join him. Others join you and Hobie in inspecting the scene, and sure enough there are signs of fighting but no sign of Miguel anywhere around. You look around, trying to get a feel of where the fighting moved to from this rooftop. You leap to the next rooftop, continuing your search.

“There is no sight of anomalies,” someone says, making you pause. If Miguel’s gizmo isn’t working and this isn’t his universe, surely that would mean that Lyla should be able to detect him as an anomaly in this universe.

You continue to search but call for Lyla, who immediately appears.

“Lyla. If Miguel’s gizmo isn’t working, can’t you detect him as an anomaly in this universe?” you ask her, hoping that she and everyone else including you forgot about this fact and that she’ll be able to pinpoint his exact location, but she shakes her head, giving you a look full of frustration.

“I’ve tried that. Unfortunately, the system failure from earlier has caused some malfunctions in the entire system. I cannot detect any anomalies at all right now. Margo and I are working on it. As soon as we get it running again, I’ll run the test and find him unless you guys find him first.”

You thank her and let her go, hoping that Miguel is found whichever way as long as it’s soon. You continue to move around, lunging from building to building like the other members in search of the founder and commander of the Spider Society. Your heart races as you search, and you pause for a second, trying to calm yourself down. Panicking like this will only interfere with successfully finding him. You pause and take a deep breath. Your spider senses went off earlier and now you’re sure it was for this reason. You try to calm down, hoping that this will allow your senses to come in. You will them to help you right now; to lead you in the right direction.

You don’t allow yourself to think too long about the fact that you sensed this. That you sensed Miguel was in trouble. You ignore it. That will be something to ponder about later, or maybe not, considering you’ll come up with no reasonable explanation. You hope no one questions how you knew either.

You look around the city as rain continues to pour down on you. Since you arrived, the rain has picked up and all you can think about is Miguel on some rooftop, hurt and glitching under the cold rain.

“Where are you, Miguel?” you whisper, as you do a full turn.

Your gaze moves past it, but your eyes quickly return to it. The tallest building in the city is about ten buildings away from you. You stop and look up at it, rain falling on your masked face. Before you know it, you’re running across rooftops, leaping in the air to reach the building. You hear Hobie and Jess scream at you, asking where you’re going, and you reluctantly answer through your gizmo.

“I’m just going to check something,” you reply, as you throw web at the building now, aiding you in reaching the building faster. You feel a strange sensation spread through your chest as you stick to the building and begin to run upwards. You hope you’re right and yet again you wonder what it’ll mean if you are, but you don’t spend too much time thinking about this. All you care about at the end of the day is that Miguel is found and well. You continue to run, lifting yourself up with your web. You use a combination of running and lifting to reach the top of the building, meanwhile you can sense other members far behind joining you.

And why wouldn’t they when they see the speed and determination in your movements. To everyone paying attention, you’re climbing the tallest building in the city as if you know that your distant and serious commander is on that rooftop.

And he is.

You see his slumped figured over a wall and rush with a speed that almost makes it seem like you teleported to him. You are kneeled at his right side almost instantly, eyes scanning his bare face.

You quickly lift your gizmo and inform the others.

“Miguel has been found. He’s on the tallest building’s rooftop,” you say, sounding ragged not only because of the climb but also because of relief that you’ve found him. You notice his chest moving. Breathing. “He’s breathing!” you add, informing your colleagues.

You notice raindrops running down his face and without a second thought, you remove your mask and lay it over his head as an attempt to shield his face. Your worry for Miguel is so strong that you don’t even notice the coldness of the rain on your face or the fact that your hair is getting damp.

You move closer to him now. “Miguel,” you say and tentatively grab his right shoulder. “Miguel, can you hear me?” you ask loudly, hoping he’ll hear you over the pouring rain.

You take in the sight of Miguel, anguish spreading through your body as you try to get a sense of his injuries. His brown hair is wet from the rain, making it stick to his forehead. His face looks like it has lost some color, which worries you instantly, but you try not to think negatively. Miguel is a strong man, and you know his spider abilities allow him to withhold many injuries. The only thing bothering you is that you don’t know the extent of the injuries he may have. For all you know, they could be serious, which is why you’re careful when you look down at his body, trying to find any sign of injury, but his suit looks intact.

“Miguel,” you say again and this time you cup the right side of his face in your hand, immediately feeling the coldness of his skin even through your suit. Shame rushes through you as you hold his face, feeling like you’re disrespecting him and his boundaries regarding physical touch, but you push past it and call his name again.

And this time, Miguel shifts slightly. His eyes flutter open slowly before they move to you.

“You are here” he mumbles, with his maroon eyes meeting yours.

“Miguel! Yes, we’re here. Don’t worry, we’re taking you back home, okay?” you say softly, reassuring him. “Where are you hurt?” you ask him just as other members finally reach the rooftop.

“I have glass shards in my torso,” he says, closing his eyes. “And a few deep cuts. My gizmo is not working,” he adds softly with eyes still closed, feeling your suited hand cupping his face gently.

You nod though he cannot see you and look down at his gizmo since he mentioned it, noticing for the first time the broken device. You’ve never seen or heard of anyone’s breaking, not even during a gruesome fight since Miguel and Lyla spent a lot of time making sure they were durable in these kinds of scenarios. You wonder how it was possible that it managed to get broken. You shove your thoughts away and remove your hand from Miguel’s face. You quickly remove your gizmo and gently take Miguel’s right arm in your free hand as you’re suddenly surrounded by your colleagues. You slide your gizmo into his free wrist, ensuring that he won’t glitch any more in the meantime before he’s back to Nueva York, so he won’t be in additional pain. You let go of his arm and turn slightly to see who’s made it already.

Miguel opens his eyes when he feels the gizmo around his wrist. He looks at your hands, your wrist now empty. He wants to tell you to take it back or you’ll glitch soon, but Jess begins to talk, giving orders to your colleagues as the second in command, preventing him from warning you.

“We need to get him to HQ immediately,” she says stepping closer. “We’ll need to carry him carefully as we don’t know the extent of the injuries,” she adds looking down at Miguel and you, who remains kneeled at his side. She looks around and calls out some of your colleagues’ names, including yours, to help carry Miguel to HQ.

You and the others immediately get on it. You turn to Miguel and give him an apologetic look though his eyes are closed again before you take his arm. You put all your strength along with Ben Reilly to help Miguel up, but you end up getting replaced by Peter once it becomes apparent that your height difference is an issue. Still, you stand by closely making sure that they don’t hurt him in the process. Someone opens a portal just as Jess gives the order to the other members to search for the anomalies.

You watch as Ben and Peter hold Miguel, walking carefully into the portal. Jess motions for you to go, following closely behind you.

“The infirmary staff is ready to treat him. They should be waiting for us,” Jess says as you step foot back in HQ.

You briefly look around at the infirmary sector before your eyes return to Miguel. Sure enough, infirmary staff approach the three men and before you know it, Miguel is on a stretcher being led away down a long hallway.

A doctor, who you hadn’t noticed before, approaches you and everyone else. You watch as the staff take Miguel away until they enter a room and disappear while Jess and the doctor talk.

“With Miguel hurt, I’ll be handling things until he recovers. That means I’ll have to be away, but you can direct yourself to -” Jess says pausing, looking around before her eyes land on you. “You can direct yourself to her. Y/N,” you hear Jess.

You turn at the mention of your name. You find her, the doctor and Peter looking at you.

“As the second in command, I’ll be taking over for now. Peter, you’ll be my second in command in the meantime. And you,” Jess says nodding at you. “You’ll be my third in command. I need you to stay here and keep us updated on Miguel’s status. You’re also to make sure that his privacy is respected,” she says with a frown. “I doubt anyone will try anything, but I rather be safe than sorry. Make sure no one tries to go in for any reason. If he wants visitors once he’s awake, it’ll be up to him.”

You nod.

“Of course, I’ll keep you updated and make sure no one intrudes on his priva-” you start but stop when you glitch. You cry out as you experience glitching for the first time and nearly lose your balance, but Peter catches you before you fall.

“You’re glitching – where is your gizmo?” Peter asks confused as he holds you, keeping you steady.

You huff in pain and look up as the feeling starts fading away. You meet Peter and Jess’s eyes.

“I gave it to Miguel to prevent him from glitching again in the time it took us to transport him,” you finally say softly, still feeling a little out of breath. You can’t help but think how awful it feels to glitch even in good health, making you wonder what it must have felt like for Miguel while being injured. You sigh softly. “I’ll keep you guys updated. And I’ll make sure Miguel is undisturbed,” you add.

Jess and Peter look at you before the two of them nod.

“I’ll have someone send you a gizmo in a while. For now, put this on to prevent more glitching,” Jess says pulling out a day pass from her pocket. She hands it to you, and you slide it on immediately, thanking her. “Peter and I will be in Miguel’s lab. Margo and Lyla are still trying to fix the system. We need to get it fixed before we find ourselves with multiple anomalies running loose, so we’ll be taking care of that. As I said, someone will deliver a gizmo so you can keep us updated, alright?”

You nod and Jess nods back at you. She stares at you for a few seconds as if she wants to say more but she looks over at Peter, who meets her eyes before he turns to you. He gives you a reassuring smile.

“We’ll get through this. Everything will be alright. Right, Jess?” he says, turning his attention back to Jess as he lets go of you at last, sensing you’re more stable now after glitching.

“Right,” Jess says before she nods at you and gives her thanks to the doctor, who hurries off. Jess, too, departs, heading to the elevator with Ben following behind.

Your gaze moves to the doctor as she walks down the hallway. Your eyes follow her even when you feel Peter’s hand on your shoulder.

“He’ll be okay. Miguel is a strong guy,” he says softly in a reassuring tone, also watching the doctor for a few seconds. He sighs and squeezes your shoulder gently before he departs, following Jess and Ben to the elevator.

You stand alone in the infirmary’s quiet lobby now. You look around to distract yourself. Thankfully you’ve never needed to be here, so you’re not familiar with this floor. You find yourself walking to the windows. It’s still dark out, so you can see the lights on from other buildings and cars in the distance despite the blurriness due to the soft rain. You stare out of the windows for some time, your mind taken up by Miguel and his health.

It's not until you feel a tap on the shoulder that you turn away from the windows. You find Ben Reilly, who offers you a small smile before he hands you a gizmo and a tablet.

“Jess sends this. The gizmo for obvious reasons and the tablet to keep you occupied while you wait,” he says, still giving you a smile.

You take both devices and nod at him, giving him a small smile. “Thank you, Ben. I appreciate it,” you say as you slide on the new gizmo.

Ben nods, staring at you. You hold on to the tablet, looking down at it before Ben breaks the silence. “Pretty crazy, right?”

You look up just as he pushes his hair to the side a bit, and nod before turning to face the windows again. “Yes.”

The two of you stare out the window for a few seconds in silence, watching the rain.

“Miguel will be alright, I think. He’s a buff dude,” Ben says, trying to reassure you. You smile sadly and nod.

You hear Ben pop his fingers next to you. “I must head back now. Jess and Peter needs everyone on board to find those anomalies so – I’ll see you around.”

You turn to face him and thank him again. “Thank you. Please tell Jess and Peter that if they need me to do anything else, to let me know.”

Ben nods as he stands in front of you, giving you another small smile. “Consider it done. By the way, the way you leaped up that building was – very impressive and I mean that in a good way,” he adds.

You nod again, feeling somewhat lighter with Ben’s comment as you’ve learned over the last months that he’s really into dramatic poses and such and you have a feeling he’s trying to lighten up the mood despite the situation. “Thank you, Ben. I appreciate the compliment.”

Ben nods one more time before he starts departing but turns around again, remembering something.

“Oh, I almost forgot. Your mask,” he says walking back to you and pulling your mask from under his hoodie and handing it to you. “It fell when we carried Miguel back here.”

You take it from his hand. You completely forgot about it once you put it over Miguel’s head. You thank him again for his help before he departs, leaving you alone again. You slide the mask into one of your suit’s hidden pockets and hold on to the tablet but don’t boot it up. Instead, you turn your attention back to the windows. You wait patiently there, hoping that someone will come and give you an update, but no one comes. Your mind goes back to what happened tonight and you try to think of an explanation but eventually drop it. You don’t know what happened tonight. You don’t know what led you to sense Miguel’s situation but you’re glad he’s safe now, in his universe and that’s all that matters.

It’s not until almost two hours later that you hear footsteps. You turn around immediately, for once departing from your spot by the windows. Your eyes find the doctor from earlier as she heads your way. She gives you a nod of acknowledgment as she reaches you.

“Mr. O’Hara is stable now. He had multiple glass shards on his torso, many of which were small, so we needed to ensure we didn’t miss any of them to prevent an infection. He also has two large cuts on the left side of his torso and a stab wound in the middle of his abdomen. It was pretty deep, and it will take a few days to fully heal. We know he glitched a few times and it took some toll on his body, so that’s why it’ll make his injuries heal slower, but he’ll recover successfully,” the doctor informs you with a kind voice. “Would you like to see him? He’s still passed out due to the meds, but you can stay in the room with him now.”

You nod immediately. “Yes, please. And thank you for the update. I’ll let the others know right away,” you say, as the two of you walk down the hallway.

You can’t help but feel your heart pound in your chest as you approach the room. The doctor opens the door for you, letting you in.

“Let us know if you need anything,” she says before she closes the door softly, giving you privacy.

The hospital room’s lights are off except for two lamps to the left side of the room and a light behind the hospital bed, where you find Miguel. You carefully walk closer to the bed, your eyes scanning his face under the soft lighting. As you step closer and stand by his side at last, your eyes continue to observe his face. Miguel’s face is relaxed, and you can’t help but think how boyish he looks while sleeping. It’s as if all the worries and threats to the multiverse are nonexistent at this moment.

You notice his hair is dry now, but it’s still pressed to his forehead, giving him a messy look, which just adds to the boyish look. You fight the urge to fix it and instead pull a chair closer to the bed before you take a seat. You remember you need to update everyone, so you send a quick message to Jess, notifying her that Miguel is stable and what the doctor said about his injuries. It takes a few seconds before she replies that she’s relieved to hear the news. She also asks you to let her know when Miguel wakes up.

You sit on your chair near Miguel, listening to his even and slow breathing. You watch his chest gently rise and fall before your eyes trace his face. His face still needs to regain its natural color but he’s alive and he’ll recover. All is well now. For the first time since you woke up, you exhale deeply; releasing pent up emotions now that your very own eyes can confirm that Miguel is safe. Before you know it, you feel tears pooling in your eyes as you stare at Miguel’s sleeping face.

You rest an arm on the chair’s armchair and rest your chin on your hand as you feel the tears run down your face softly. Your lips quiver as you hold a soft sob in the quiet hospital room, unable to stop yourself from crying.

Tonight is the first time in four years that you’ve felt anything remotely close to what you felt the day you lost Peter. The dread that grew with each second as you headed to find him. The tightening of your chest that made it difficult to breathe as you swung from building to building. The feeling that you were going to be too late. Again.

Of course, you know it’s different. Peter had a small window of time that to this day you believe you missed. You felt lucky enough that you were able to say goodbye to him. Meanwhile, Miguel could’ve probably hung on for a little longer due to his powers and yet, you still felt those same emotions while you searched for him. You continue to cry quietly, letting the tears run freely down your face as you watch over him.

You’re unable to stop yourself from thinking the worst. Sure, you are superheroes but that doesn’t mean you are invisible to danger or death. As your eyes remain on Miguel’s sleeping face, your chest feels heavy at the brief thought of something worse happening to him, making your eyes tear up more. You cry quietly, covering your mouth until you calm down.

You sniffle once your tears slow down and blame it on your lack of sleep and the adrenaline completely leaving your body now. You dry your face and breathe in before exhaling softly. The last thing you want is for someone to see you like this. You check your gizmo, reading the time. It’s past 5:30 A.M. and when you look towards the windows from your spot, you see the first signs of daylight.

Miguel made it to another day.

You turn back to Miguel. He’s still sleeping with his head resting against soft pillows. The sight of Miguel in a hospital gown feels so wrong. It’s still strange to see him in anything other than his suit as you’ve only ever seen him in normal clothes three times: Christmas Eve, Christmas, and New Years Eve. As you watch over him, your eyes land on his arms. It seems that the grey hospital gown is a bit tight as the sleeves hug his large biceps but despite that, he looks relaxed with his arms at his sides, hands curled softly.

You observe his sleeping figure, eyes tracing his arms down to his large hands. Your eyes then flicker to his bare neck and part of his collarbone where you spot a small piece of gauze taped to his skin with medical tape. You wonder just how many of those he has on his torso on top of the large wounds. You sigh deeply as you continue to watch over Miguel, wishing that this hadn’t happened.

You feel a shiver run through your body, feeling slightly cold when the AC turns on. You look at the end of the bed and find a folded blanket. You get up and grab it, laying it over Miguel’s body gently. You bring it up to his neck, making sure to cover his arms which you imagine might get cold. You stand over him, staring at him for a few seconds before you walk to the windows to stretch your legs.

You cross your arms across your chest. It’s still raining, and the sky is beginning to brighten though it remains grey and cloudy because of the weather. You spot more traffic now, too. The city is slowly waking up as you stare out for a few minutes. You turn back around and lean on the windows as you take a quick glance around the room for the first time. The appearance of the room was the last thing on your mind when you first came in and even now you just briefly scan the room. You notice it’s very spacious with a sitting area for visitors to the right of the room when you enter. Across from it, on the other side of the door, there’s a room, which you suspect is the bathroom. You turn to your right now, noticing a screen displayed on the wall, facing Miguel. A TV, you realize before your eyes return to Miguel.

Your eyes flicker to the sitting area for visitors for a moment, making you think of his family. He has none left, like you. You sigh softly, remembering thoughts you used to have before joining the Spider Society. There were many times when you went out on patrols and sat on rooftops, observing the streets below when your mind took you to a depressing place after Peter’s death.

You wondered many times what would happen the day you die. You have no family and you cut ties with friends from your universe. You quit your job, so you didn’t even have colleagues. No one would go look for you if something happened to you. No one would claim you as family.

It was scary and depressing to think of this and so you pushed it away and hoped each time that one day you’d have someone – anyone – in your life. Someone who could say something about you. You hoped that it wouldn’t be so lonely then, at least not the way it felt when you arrived home with cuts and bruises that you had to tend to by yourself after Peter’s death. No longer did you fall into Peter’s arms, who held you for a few seconds before he sat you down to clean and tend to your wounds, comforting you with his gentle voice and touch.

As you stare at Miguel and think about this and the fact that Miguel has no family either, you’re glad that Jess assigned you to do this, though you realize you would’ve requested to do it regardless. The idea of anyone waking up alone in a hospital room depresses you and that feeling only intensifies as you think of Miguel, the man that longed for a family so much he inserted himself in another universe to fulfill that dream when he had a chance.

Only to lose it.

You shake your head softly, still staring at him. You’ve never wished this much for someone to be happy like you’ve done towards Miguel. You hope one day he can move forward. That one day, life will treat this man better. This man that deserves so much more but who has lost so much.

“Gabi,” Miguel mutters softly.

You straighten up and walk over to him, standing by his side. Miguel is still sleeping but his brows are furrowed as he mutters Gabriella’s name again. You stand there, not knowing what to do. Your hands wish to reach for his to comfort him, but you’re still set on respecting his wish of no physical touch, so you settle with placing them near his hand instead.

“Gabi.”

Your eyebrows lower and knit together in sadness as you hear Miguel call for Gabriella again.

“Miguel,” you say softly, not sure it’ll even help. “It’s okay,” you whisper.

“Gabi,” Miguel mutters, moving his head slightly against the pillows.

You watch his face as a heavy feeling overwhelms your chest, wishing you could do more. Miguel grows restless, moving his head more. You notice that his hands also begin to move under the blanket you covered him in. It takes you a few seconds to see that the blanket seems stuck to his hands. You pull the blanket off him gently from your side to see his hand, finding his extended talons stuck to the fabric. You have no other choice but to pull the blanket off him gently, successfully freeing his talons. You look down at them for a second, seeing them for the first time outside of the suit before you return your gaze to Miguel’s face.

“Miguel,” you say. “It’s okay… It’s okay.”

Miguel continues to move restlessly, and you fear that he’ll hurt himself in the process, so you do the one thing you think of. You take his hand softly in your own and squeeze gently, whispering softly that everything is alright. You feel his hand move slightly in yours, causing you to feel one of his talons against your hand. You feel some pain even through your suit, but you push past it and continue to hold his hand, talking to him even though you’re sure he can’t hear you.

You watch helplessly as tears gently begin to roll down Miguel’s face as he continues to call for Gabi.

“Mija.”

You hold his hand in yours as he cries in his sleep, occasionally feeling his talons dig into your skin softly. You softly whisper reassuring words, hoping it will cease his crying as the sight devastates you to your core, but he grows restless, and the heart monitor begins to warn about his heart. You look up, noticing his heart rate is increasing rapidly. You rush to the door and yell for the doctor, full of worry.

/\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ _ _ _ _ _ _ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/

Miguel stands in front of his penthouse’s windows, looking out. The sky is a light blue, and the sun is shining brightly, illuminating the entire place. His eyes take in the sight of distant skyscrapers below soft clouds in the sky. Cars fly in the distance. The city is busy as always. He stands there for what feels like minutes watching in silence before it’s broken.

“Hermano.”

Miguel turns around instantly at the sound of his brother’s voice. He finds him standing a few feet away from him.

“Gabrielito?” Miguel says softly, feeling shocked to see him after so long.

Gabriel gives him that smile. That cheeky smile that got him in trouble too many times.

“It’s been a long time, hermano,” Gabriel says before making his way to Miguel, who finds himself meeting Gabriel halfway.

The O’Hara brothers embrace each other in the older brother’s living room. Miguel holds his much smaller brother tightly, not quite believing that this is happening. Gabriel is here.

“It’s been a long time,” Miguel agrees, still hugging his younger brother.

The O’Hara brothers pull back and Miguel can’t help but smile at his younger brother as he takes in the sight of Gabriel’s face. He doesn’t seem older despite the years.

“Miguel – it’s so good to see you again, hermano,” Gabriel says laying a hand on Miguel’s bicep. “Look at you. You look well! Though, do I spot a grey hair from here?” Gabriel teases, making Miguel frown.

“Very funny, Gabriel.”

“You know I’m just playing but if you keep going like this, you’ll start seeing them,” Gabriel warns.

“If I keep going like this?” Miguel asks, his frown deepening.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. Working all day and night. No sleep except for once a week or those random naps you take, which don’t help by the way. Your eating habits. It’s too much on your body, despite being a superhero.”

Miguel doesn’t respond. Gabriel’s face softens.

“Hermano, you can’t keep going like this. It’s painful to watch, you know. You deserve so much more from life, Mig.”

Miguel looks away. “Gabriel – you don’t know the things I’ve done.”

“I do know… and I’m not here to judge you. I could never but I’m worried about you. I’ve been for a long time. Miguel – you have so much life ahead of you. It’s painful to watch you do this to yourself. You deserve to be happy and not waste your life away working day and night because you think that’s all your life is meant for. It’s not. And I’m not the only one who agrees, by the way.”

Miguel turns his face back to Gabriel, raising an eyebrow with curiosity as his younger brother’s words sink in.

“There’s someone that wants to see you,” Gabriel says softly with a gentle smile before he nods behind Miguel.

Miguel turns around, not knowing what to expect but there they are. He finds his wife, who smiles brightly at him and Gabriella, in the arms of his variant, Gabriella’s biological father, standing there. Miguel freezes, feeling a rush of mixed emotions at the sight but it all fades away when Gabriella jumps out of the arms of her biological father and runs to him.

“Daddy! Daddy!”

Miguel feels his heart burst with happiness at the sight of her running to greet him. He drops to his knees and opens his arms wide just as Gabriella runs into him. He instantly wraps his arms around her, unable to believe that he’s holding her again. Gabriella wraps her arms around his neck, happy to see him.

“Mija,” Miguel mumbles as tears pool around his eyes, spilling almost immediately down his face as he holds Gabi close.

“Daddy, it’s okay. Please don’t cry. I’m okay,” Gabi says softly, trying to calm Miguel down but he’s unable to stop the tears and the gentle shaking of his chest as he holds his daughter once again.

“Mija,” he repeats, closing his eyes as he embraces his daughter.

“It’s okay, daddy. Please don’t cry. I hate to see you cry,” Gabi tells him, wrapping her arms tighter around his neck. “I hate seeing you unhappy. You should be happy. You deserve it.”

Miguel shakes his head softly. “Mija… you don’t understand.”

But Gabi pulls back gently, meeting her father’s eyes. “I do. I know everything – and it’s okay. You don’t need to be sorry,” she says gently, sounding much older than she looks.

Miguel’s teary eyes meet his daughter’s as the truth sinks in. Gabi knows. Miguel looks up at his variant, who stands nearby. Miguel clears his throat, feeling shame and guilt as he meets the other Miguel’s eyes. He returns his gaze to Gabi and gives her a hug before he stands up, holding her in his arms. He approaches the other Miguel, looming over him. He gives a quick glance to his wife, who nods at him, as if she knows that he needs to have this discussion first before talking to her.

Miguel looks down at his variant and gives him an apologetic look.

“Miguel – I’m so sorry for – everything,” Miguel begins softly. “I’m sorry for what I did.”

Miguel expects his variant to respond negatively. To tell him off about pretending to be the father of his daughter. For trying to live his life. For not telling the truth to Gabi. For everything else he did that he cannot bear to think about now, but his variant surprises him with a sad smile.

“I know why you did it. I understand it. And I’m not mad…” Miguel’s variant starts, meeting his eyes. “You did something for me that I’ll never be able to repay.”

Miguel furrows his eyebrows in confusion, not expecting this reaction from his variant. He feels Gabi hug him as his variant continues.

“Had you not done what you did – Gabi’s life would’ve been very different those months you spent with her. You know very well what would’ve happened,” his variant continues, alluding to the fact that Gabi turned into an orphan and would’ve been placed in an orphanage had Miguel not stepped in. “For that – I thank you deeply. And of course, for being her father,” he finishes softly, acknowledging that Miguel is Gabi’s father as well.

Miguel nods slowly, feeling tears again but Gabi swipes them away.

“It’s okay, daddy. You don’t need to cry anymore, right, papá?” Gabi asks, turning to face her biological father, who nods. “We’re all okay here.”

Miguel nods at Gabi, holding her in his arms before he turns to his variant. “Thank you,” he whispers and his variant nods, giving him that same sad smile.

Miguel continues to hold Gabi, feeling like a weight has been taken off his shoulders. For so long he has carried shame and guilt over what he did but his variant and Gabi were forgiving of his actions. “Thank you,” Miguel whispers again, as Gabi holds him tighter, reminding Miguel how it felt to hold his child. Soft tears run down his face even when he turns to his wife who has been watching, waiting.

“I..,” Miguel trails off, not knowing how to continue for he has thought about her and their relationship a lot in the last few months.

He feels a different kind of shame washing over him. The more time passed, the more Miguel realized how differently he wished things had been. He had fallen in love too fast, wanting to fulfill his dream of having a family and he felt like he dragged her into it. He felt like he rushed her into marriage, but his wife meets his eyes with tenderness and nods.

“Miguel…” she says with a sigh. “We both made that decision. You didn’t rush me into anything I didn’t want to, but we did rush into it, didn’t we?” she asks softly with a small smile, taking his hand in hers. “We both wanted a family so badly and perhaps – perhaps we both sensed it would end soon and that’s why we held on to it so badly.”

She holds his hand and squeezes it gently, reassuringly, as she steps closer.

“I love you. And I know you love me, too… but our love was different, wasn’t it?” she asks softly. “Perhaps we could’ve really fallen in love if we had the time…” she continues. “But we didn’t and that’s okay, Miguel. I don’t hold that against you. We both wanted it badly and made the decision, so please stop carrying this guilt, okay? Miguel, por favor, live your life. For our sake,” she says softly, pausing. “Don’t you think it hurts us to see you like this?” she asks, looking at the others. “It’s painful to watch you do this to yourself. You’re so full of life, wasting it all living like this when there’s so many people out there to meet and befriend… to love. You have amazing people by you, don’t be afraid to show them the wonderful man you are.”

Miguel nods softly though the idea alone seems strange. He feels Gabi shift in his arms slightly, looking behind him.

“I just – I don’t know how to do this again. Losing you, all of you, has been too much,” he admits.

“But you haven’t lost us, hermano,” Gabriel says coming from behind, giving him a side hug. Miguel turns to look down at his younger brother again. “We’re always with you. Even if you don’t believe it or sense us, we’re always there. In every mission. In every universe. Every day and sleepless night.”

“You’re just too busy sometimes to sense us, daddy but we watch over you,” Gabi adds with her toothy smile. “We’re with you always. We visit you all the time, which reminds me - I loved my pancakes and the toys you gave me. Papá and I played a match with the new soccer ball you left for me on Dia de los Muertos. Thank you for leaving my favorite candy, too.”

Miguel cries softly and holds Gabi tighter in his arms. “You…” he attempts but is unable to finish his thought about them visiting him that night.

“We’re always with you,” his wife confirms with a smile meeting his eyes but she, too, looks behind him for a second.

He feels Gabi shift again, looking behind him. “She’s calling you,” she says softly.

Miguel dries his face with the sleeves of his shirt. “Who?” he asks, confused.

“You know who,” Gabriel says with a small smile. “You know exactly who. Miguel – you have a long life ahead of you. Make it count,” he whispers. “Leave a legacy that’s far greater than your leadership. Far greater than your duty and work. Live life, hermano. I know it’s not easy and we don’t expect you to move forward overnight but try. Try for us in the beginning until you find it in you to do it for yourself. Just try,” Gabriel says softly.

Miguel nods with tears. “I’ll try, Gabrielito. I’ll try.”

Gabriel smiles. “It’s been great seeing you, Miguelito.”

“Don’t call me that,” Miguel says but he says it with a smile.

“For old time’s sake, hermano,”Gabriel says and wipes his own tears away. “It’s been really great seeing you, but you must return now.”

“Return?” Miguel asks confused, still holding Gabi in his arms.

“You’ve been away too long, daddy. You must go back now. It’ll be alright,” Gabi says with a smile.

Everyone turns to look behind Miguel. He doesn’t know what they keep looking at.

“I don’t want to leave…” Miguel says softly, holding Gabi closer.

“Miguel – you must. It’s not time yet. And she’s calling you,” his wife says.

“Who’s calling me?” he asks.

His wife smiles and shakes her head. “One of the brightest people I’ve ever met, and you don’t see it, do you?”

Miguel stares at his wife before he meets the other two adults’ gazes. He realizes it. He must go. He nods slowly and holds Gabi for a minute longer, closing his eyes. Gabi hugs him tighter.

“There’s nothing to forgive but I know you need to hear it, so I’ll say it. I forgive you… You’ll always be my dad, no matter what,” she whispers, filling Miguel’s chest with ache and love all at once.

“Mija… Thank you,” Miguel breathes out gently.

He puts Gabi down, smiling down at her. He doesn’t understand it. She looks the same age she was when she passed away, but she sounds so much wiser. Like she knows more than he does. He pats her head softly before he meets his variant’s gaze.

“Thank you again…”

His variant nods, giving him a gentle smile.

Miguel’s eyes turn to his wife, who’s already looking at him. She nods softly.

“We’ll see you when it’s your time,” she says before she takes his hand again, giving it a soft squeeze before releasing it.

Finally, Miguel turns to Gabriel.

“It’ll be alright, hermano. We’ll see you when it’s time. And don’t forget we’re always with you,” he says as Gabi leans on him. Miguel watches his brother pick up Gabriella, holding her in his arms. “It’s time.”

Miguel nods before he gives his brother and Gabriella a hug, wrapping his long arms around them. He pulls his wife into it, too. He ends up offering his hand to his variant, inviting him into the hug. At the end of the day, they were linked. Forever.

His variant accepts his hand and gives him a nod, joining the moment.

They pull apart a few seconds later, giving Miguel space. He stares at them as they stand side by side, his brother still holding Gabi. They smile at him and give him reassuring nods. Miguel nods just as his variant walks closer to him, separating from the group as if to talk with him in private.

“Before you go… I want to tell you that I forgive you. I forgave you a long time ago, really. I thank you for being a father to Gabi, for treating her the way I would’ve and know that in her eyes and mine, you are a father to her. I also want to tell you… that you have a chance, Miguel. Take it,” his variant says softly. “Our lives have never been easy, and you know that, but one thing I learned when I was alive was that sometimes all you need is a small purpose to keep you going,” his variant says briefly looking back at Gabi. “And I don’t mean work, for we both know what that does to us. Find the true purpose. Keep going. Live life. Accept those that wish to be near you,” he says, laying a hand on Miguel’s shoulder. “You’re worthy of it, don’t forget that.”

Miguel nods. “Thank you, Miguel.”

His variant nods, giving him a smile before he returns to the group. Miguel watches them for a few seconds.

“Go on, daddy! You must return now,” Gabi says looking behind him.

“She’s still calling you,” Gabriel adds but Miguel still doesn’t know who is calling him.

Miguel turns around. He’s no longer met with the view of his large windows facing the city, instead all he sees is a warm light. He turns back around.

“I’ll see you again, right?” he asks, quietly.

His family nods.

“Of course, and we’ll be ready for that day when it comes, hermano but that day is not today. For now, just now we’re always with you,” Gabriel says. “And I don’t mean to rush you, but you should really get back now.”

Miguel nods once again and before he leaves, he walks the short distance and gives everyone a last hug, squeezing Gabi and Gabriel tighter. He returns to his spot and nods. It’s time. He waves goodbye before he turns around to face the light. He walks into it, seeing nothing but light and when he looks behind his shoulder, he sees his family wave goodbye one last time. Miguel’s heart aches as he walks away but there’s also a lightness that he hasn’t felt in a long time.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _/\ /\ /\ /\ /\ /\ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/

“It’s okay, Miguel,” you shakily whisper as Miguel mumbles something in his sleep.

You watch him with your tear-stained face after what happened. The last thirty minutes were overwhelming to say the least. You try to forget it for now but you’re unable to put away the worry and stress of what you witnessed. As Miguel mumbles in his sleep again, you release a shaky breath.

Miguel’s heartbeat gave up for a few minutes and all you could do was watch and call his name helplessly as the medical professionals resuscitated him. You stand by his side now, thankful but still on edge as Miguel moves his head slightly.

“It’s alright. Everything is alright,” you whisper as he moves.

You notice his eyebrows furrowing as he mumbles yet something else, but his words are incoherent. You watch as his eyes move under his eyelids before they begin to flutter as if he’s waking up. You hold your breath, as it slowly becomes apparent his eyes are opening. Miguel looks around the hospital room slowly as if trying to figure out where he’s at before they fall on you.

“Y/N…” he whispers softly.

________________________

*Translation for italicized Spanish words:* Mierda - shit Mija - my daughter Hermano - brother Papá - dad Por favor - please Dia de los Muertos - Day of the Death ___

Thank you for reading! I hope you guys enjoyed this part despite the angst. The next part will contain more fluff, promise 🥹 can we just talk about reader giving Miguel her gizmo??? 😭 I don't know why but that made me so sad and that probably sounds stupid since I wrote it but anyway... I still love Miguel ❤️

-Alondra

Tag list:

@loverlorn @saturnknows @d1lf-loverrr @eddiestitmiguelsbigdick @freehentai @arithestrawberry @scaleniusrm @haradasaya @spidermanismyfav @bitchykittenconnoisseur @thecraziestcrayon @obi-mom-kenobi @natsury-kazuki @rootin-tootin-morgan @coraline750 @edgycatx @safixiovi @sunnyx07 @nxrdamp @rorel1a @oceanstar19 @happishark @carmilla01 @somebodyelsethanyouthink @adora-but-ginger @angie2274 @vampi-amora @tired-writer04 @plzfeedmebread @shadow-pancake9 @tynakub @faretheeoscar @giulscomix @luvstuffies @coffeeauthorvibing @lauraolar14 @bl0osclues @pinkiemme @lil-cinn @mashiromochi @loveletterfrommwah @mandodinstuff @muzansucker @theleftkittycollection @kikookii @www-interludeshadow-com @holographicang3l @aisyakirmann @bucky-to-my-barnes @geraskier-thots @l3laze @yujyujj @taylorsmakingfuckingmacandcheese

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ya9amicide · 1 year

Text

Redamancy [BTS]

chapter one

♡ info ♡ k-pop masterlist ♡ next chapter ♡

summary: Hybrids were accepted in society to a certain degree. To some, they are for entertainment. Used as sex and money tools. To lock up and abuse whenever and however they please. Something to have control over. To others, they are companions. Just like regular animals are used for therapy or simply companionship, hybrids are too.

To the rest, they are just like everyone else. Someone with their own life who deserves the same freedoms as your everyday John or Jane Doe. Wren is one of these people. She hates the idea of owning a hybrid. She has nothing against those who own them for medical or companionship reasons. Just the rest.

But, when a ragtag pack of seven mismatched hybrids somehow ends up in the woods behind her home, she takes them in and does the one thing she never thought she would do. Own them. But, she also does something she didn't even think was possible. She fell in love with each and every one of them.

pairing(s): ot7 x ot7, ot7 x oc

warnings: none

Most hybrids come from Asian countries because of the ethereal beauty they possess. For most, that is the only asset that keeps them alive. The way most of these hybrids end up in other countries is if they are sold to someone and brought there. Now, the entire world has hybrids mixed into its population.

Being a writer, I always get asked why I haven't written anything about hybrids. For a fantasy writer, it's like the jackpot of writing material considering they actually exist and all the information I would need is right at my fingertips if I want it to be.

It's just something that never sat right with me. I don't know everything and the only way to know everything is to speak to one myself. I don't own a hybrid. I won't own a hybrid. I have nothing against people who own them as long as they are treating them with care. But, I just don't feel comfortable interrogating someone for the purpose of a story.

Hybrids have very unique, very personal aspects to their lives that other people don't have. It would be like asking the deepest most personal questions about someone's life. It's unfathomably uncomfortable.

Luckily, I can escape the demands for hybrid content when I'm teaching. Teaching Greek mythology to college students has its perks in that regard. Which, leads me to where I am now, wrapping up my lecture for the day.

"Alright everyone, don't forget your homework for the weekend." Some students groan at the back of the room. I stand from behind my desk, walking around to the front where I lean against it with my hip. "Yes, yes, I know. Just be thankful you get a whole weekend for it, your other professors probably wouldn't be so nice. Now, any questions?"

Two hands raise in the air and I call on the first one to come up. "How many sources did we need to cite again?"

"At least three," I say. "You can use more if you'd like, I have no issue with that. However, I hope I don't need to remind you which types of websites aren't credible sources?"

Everyone shakes their heads and I nod, calling on the next person. "Will there be any time to come in to ask questions about our papers before Monday?"

"To come in, no. Unfortunately not. However, if you'd like you can email me with any questions you have or just send me a draft and I can read it for you and give you feedback that way. I will try to get back to you asap if I can. Just please do not email me Monday morning or late Sunday night as I will be asleep and it will be too late for you."

When I finish speaking everyone shuffles in their seats. "Any more questions?" When nobody else speaks up, I lean upright from my position in front of my desk. "If that's all then you are all free to go. Have a good weekend." I receive goodbyes from almost every student as they leave. Once the last one does, I shuffle all of my belongings together and leave the room, locking the door.

On my way home, it starts to rain. It's been in the forecast all week but it was only supposed to be a slight drizzle. This, however, is a torrential downpour. Pulling into my driveway and parking, I brace myself to make a run for it. There's no way I won't get drenched.

Walking inside, I toe off my shoes and drop my things by the door before going upstairs to change into warm and comfy clothes for the evening. Walking into the kitchen for food, I pass the large, sliding glass doors that lead to my backyard and the woods behind my house.

Cereal for dinner sounds good. With a bowl of dry cereal in one hand and a glass of milk in the other, I make my way to the living room. On the way, I pass by the glass door again. Lighting strikes, lighting up the yard and the woods in the distance. In the treeline, I almost swear I can see an animal. It's not super big, but it's not small either. Surprisingly, even with the woods bordering my house, not many animals make their way out. so, seeing one now is slightly odd.

I set my food down on the coffee table and move back to the kitchen, making a plate of food for...whatever is out there. If it's in the woods in a storm like this, it must be hungry. Sliding open the glass door, I set the plate down on the porch under the awning and move back inside where I sit on the couch with my own food and the tv playing in front of me.

I'm around two episodes into the show I was watching when I hear footsteps on the back porch. They're small but loud enough for me to hear through the rain which has settled down into a soft drizzle. Standing, I make my way to the door, trying to keep my steps light and my posture open so whatever is out there doesn't feel threatened by me.

When I'm close enough to see what it is, I find a German Shepherd right before it shifts and a man is left in its place. My hand reaches out for the door handle when he sees me. His eyes widen and he scrambles to pocket all of the food and make a run for the woods.

I quickly open the door trying to stop him. "Wait, please! You don't have to go." He freezes in his steps, halfway off the porch. "I- I can give you more food if that isn't enough. And some water too if you want?" He's thin and pale and shaking like a leaf where he stands. "Please?" My voice is soft, I'm afraid if I speak too loud he'll run away. "I just want to help."

It feels like we stare at each other for hours before he nods his head, barely enough for me to see but it's still a nod. "Okay, okay that's good," I say and lead him inside. "Let me get you a towel so you can dry off, you must be cold." I don't wait for him to respond before I rush off to get it. When I come back, he's in the same spot I left him.

"Here," I hand him the towel and watch as he wraps it around himself. Slowly, his shivering starts to calm down. "Do you have any preferences?"

He looks at me strangely, head tilting to the side. The ears on the top of his head flop to the side softly, the fur wet. "To eat? Is there anything in particular you want? Anything I should avoid?" He seems to take a minute to process what I asked him before he slowly shakes his head. "Okay. You can um...you can come wait in the kitchen while I get you something if you want."

He timidly walks in behind me and watches everything I do. I decided on soup. Hopefully, the warmth from the food would make him feel better. "Is it just you?" I ask timidly.

"No," he says softly after some hesitation.

"Are- are they close? Whoever you're with?"

"Yes."

I pause what I'm doing. Maybe I should make more soup..."How many of you are there?" How much food am I going to need to make?

He shifts uncomfortably. "Seven. Including me."

"Do they want to come in? You can invite them if you want." I avoid looking at him, continuing to make more food.

"What?" He sounds surprised and wary.

"Only if you want. I mean," I stop and chuckle slightly, "seven versus one? If I were to try anything, which I won't, I think you all have the advantage. Don't you think?"

He waited for a few minutes, probably trying to see if I was pulling his leg. "Okay." He slowly makes his way to the sliding door, I can feel his eyes on me, keeping me in his sight. Leaving the door open, he shifts back into a German Shepherd and lets out a loud howl towards the forest. Anything else beyond that, I don't hear because of the volume of the storm raging outside. It was around 15 minutes before he came back inside, several pairs of footsteps shuffling in behind him.

I freeze, gently putting down what was in my hands before slowly turning to face the group of hybrids in my home.

#𐙚 sfw !#bts #poly bts x reader #hybrid bts #poly bts #bts x oc #bts fanfction #bts fanfic #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #kim namjoon #park jimim #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook

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bettyfrommars · 1 year

Text

I'm on Fire

older!biker!Eddie Munson x fem!artist!Reader

90's au//Part 6

🚨18+ Only, MDNI, smut, dry humping, thigh riding, squirting (not reader), implied smut, mild violence, jealousy, alcohol consumption, reader feels betrayed (not by Eddie), smoking cigarettes, mention of tattoo placement on reader, biker gang, mention of poverty, loved one in hospital, fear of loss, mention of sex with people other than reader and Eddie Word count: 6.8k

In the aftermath of the adrenaline rush of Fight Night, Eddie disappears again to take care of a family emergency. The two of you share another intimate moment and have a nice night together just before everything starts to unravel. The connection you two share, and everything in your little world, is about to be tested.

Series Masterlist here

A/N: This is turning into the biker!Eddie Munson soap opera I didn't know I needed. I have lots of storyline ideas ahead for this, hopefully I can execute them as well as I want to. As always, thank you for reading ❤️‍🔥 It's difficult to catch errors when I edit myself, but I do my best. Spotify playlist: here

Eddie was holding your face between his hands, kissing you deep, his tongue flicking in every so often to make contact with yours. This is really happening, you tell yourself, sliding one hand up into his hair, the roots damp with sweat, jaw muscles stretching to take each other deeper. He pulled back a few times to plant kisses on your mouth, the tip of your nose, and then he pressed his lips to your forehead and hovered there while your hands slid up his slick chest, his body radiating heat. The DJ played something by Jane’s Addiction and the world seemed to continue on around you, and then your finger began to trace the intricate bat tattoo on his chest, the mouth of it was ancient, feral, and dripping blood.

He leaned back to make eye contact with you and he winked, brushing his thumb over your cheek. “Damn, you’re so beautiful,” and then he cleared his throat and dropped one hand from your face as Steve stepped up near him.

“Sorry to interrupt, man, but I need a minute,” Steve Harrington said, cocking his head to the side.

Eddie squeezed your hand and told you he’d be right back while he motioned for Steve to walk with him. “Follow me back to my place. I need to put a shirt on.” He turned around when they were a handful of steps away to look at you again, and of course you were still staring at him; he stifled a smile.

Even though the fights and the entertainment were over, the crowd hadn’t thinned out very much. The music had started back up and groups were headed back for more beer. You took the opportunity to go over to the fence and spit out some of the blood still in your mouth, and Katie came over to ask if you were okay, her hand rubbing your back.

“Let me see,” she said, referring to you your mouth injury. She winced when she noticed that the lower part of your jaw was swollen. “Not a dull moment in this friendship. Sip of beer?” She asked, holding her cup up.

The thought almost made you gag for some reason and you shook your head. “Where’s Robin and Jeff? Are they okay?”

Katie tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and fixed the neckline of your shirt. “Jeff is somewhere with that young biker stud, and Robin went to bring the jeep around. You have everything you came with? The clown car is leaving.”

You hesitated, because you didn’t want to leave, but you had to be at work early the next day, and you needed to get some ice on your face to keep it from getting worse. “Sure,” you looked across the parking lot. “Just let me find Eddie and say goodbye to him.”

By the time the two of you took a few seconds to look for Jeff and made it through the crowd, Eddie was no longer at the compound.

“Munson? He left,” one of the Hell’s Belles with short black hair told you, a cigarette bouncing between her lips.. “He took off a few seconds ago. Like a bat out of hell.”

To say you were disappointed would be an understatement, but there had to be good reason. Plus, you knew the guy was exhausted; he wouldn’t just take off on a joy ride for the hell of it.

Steve had no clue where Eddie went.

“But, you were the last one to talk to him, right?” Your tongue licked out to feel the rawness of your lower lip. “What did you say to him?”

“Nothing,” Steve bleated, arms out in a shrug. His hair was usually slicked back and tight, but because of the brawl, it was adorably messy with a strand hanging down over his eyebrow, “Nothing that would make him bolt. I was just telling him which guys still owed money from the fights, but he didn’t really give a shit.”

You wondered if he lived the double life of a super secret agent: the 007 of bikers.

“He did get a phone call,” Steve offered. “But I didn’t hang around to hear who it was.”

Parked out at the curb, Robin honked her horn, and it looked like Jeff was already in the jeep with her.

Erika and her friends walked by, throwing you dirty looks as they went, but you really didn’t give a shit about them in that moment.

“Why is Robin in such a hurry all of a sudden?” Katie asked Steve, arms crossed over her stomach as the three of you shuffled to the gate at a trot.

“We hired a babysitter for tonight, a neighborhood girl, really nice, but Robin’s always annoyingly nervous to leave Ollie with new people.”

Robin honked again, even though she could see that you were all moving in that direction, but clearly not fast enough. You turned in a circle, taking one more look around for Eddie before you got in the jeep, but he had officially evaporated.

-------

By the next afternoon, you still hadn’t heard from Eddie, and so you had your other assistant watch the front of the gallery while you hid in the back room to call his place, only to find that there was no answer. The first unromantic gift you planned to get for him was an answering machine.

Robin, Katie, and Oliver showed up to the gallery event looking adorable, after you encouraged them with talk of fresh crab legs and expensive goat cheese from France you could barley pronounce. Steve was working at the tattoo shop, but Oliver looked extremely dapper in red trousers, a black, short sleeve button down shirt and a red bow tie. He was still getting used to you, so he was on the quiet side, but he showed an intense amount of interest as you explained the mediums that were used in some of the artwork.

“Ollie loves to paint and draw, don’t you Ollie?” Robin asked him, but when you made eye contact to hear his answer, he shyly tucked his chin. Toward the end of their visit, though, there was a tiny finger tap on the side of your leg, and you looked down to find two big brown eyes like saucers staring up at you from under long, dark lashes. The boy was irrefutably Steve’s clone.

He curled his hand a few times, motioning for you to bend down, closer to him. “That one is my favorite,” he told you, pointing to one of the really loud, colorful abstract pieces.

“That’s my favorite too,” you whispered, in all seriousness, which afforded you an impish smile and a few consecutive nods of the head before he traveled back to take Robin’s hand.

Katie held her wine glass to her lips to muffle her words as she leaned closer to you. “Judith is looking exceptionally MILF this evening, in a Morticia kind of way.” She was referring to the owner of the gallery, who only popped in once in a great while to boast her importance in the community. Just at that moment, Judith, with her black hair styled in a short, severe asymmetrical bob, made eye contact with you and offered one of those unreadable, passive-aggressive expressions that always made your mind scramble to figure out what you had done wrong. Nothing, you reminded yourself, you’d done nothing wrong. Except, maybe, steal a lover away from one of the wealthiest women in the state, who also just happened to be one of Judith’s country club pals. Had Charlene put the pieces together and realized who you were and where you worked? It wouldn’t be a herculean feat; it was a small town and there were only a handful of galleries in the area. But suddenly, it dawned on you, that it probably wasn’t the brightest career move to make, being that much of your current livelihood depended on the support from people in Charlene’s circle.

All the same, who sits around fretting over a reputation or a career when you could be with Eddie? Definitely not you.

“Still no word from Batman?” You asked Robin as the three of them headed for the door.

Robin pressed her lips together so that her mouth became a thin, pensive line, the silver ball from her lip ring sliding to one side, and she shook her head. “No, and I haven’t been able to get a hold of Wayne either, so we’re going to drive by his place once we leave here.”

You’d be at the gallery for another hour after the event was over to clean up, and so you gave Robin one of their business cards with the phone number on it. “Please let me know what you find out?”

When you said the final goodbyes, it was dusk, and you poked your head out the door to watch them trot off down the sidewalk: Oliver in the middle, with Katie and Robin on either side, holding his hands. At one point he jumped and they swung him a few feet, giggling as he went. You weren’t much of a crier, but for some reason, the sight made tears well up in your eyes.

Jeff had the weekend off, but you found out from your other assistant, Holly, that Judith had gone home, and the news made your shoulders drop with relief. The sidewalk was bustling when the two of you locked the doors, busy with couples and friends coming in and out of the various bars and restaurants on your street. There was that buzz of spring time excitement in the air; people coming out of their caves after a long winter, ready to shake off the cobwebs and show off their pedicures.

You told Holly to take home whatever she wanted from the leftover spread of food. “You can head home, I’ll finish the rest of this up,” you assured her. Holly had just turned 21 recently, and you knew she was aching to get out and enjoy her active social life. You, on the other hand, were daydreaming about a quality night stretched out on the sofa after the events of the previous evening. Holly went out the back door, and you stayed to watch and make sure she got to her car safely before locking yourself into the building, and that’s when the phone rang.

The floor was extra smooth in the back hall, and you slipped a bit as you quickly spun around, pushing yourself off the wall, arms pumping to gain momentum as you bolted for the beige landline mounted on the wall in the office.

“Thank you for calling Moon River Gallery, this is----”

At the other end was Robin. “Wayne was rushed to the hospital last night,” she said with a sniff, as if she’d just been crying. “He’s okay now, but I’m pissed that Eddie didn’t tell anyone.”

Your heart sank as you leaned your hip against the table. “Oh, no, what happened?”

She sniffed again. “I’m not really sure. I guess they put him on some different meds, and he got lightheaded and fell...and hit his head on the...on the….” her voice trembled and she couldn’t get it out, and so Katie took the phone.

“Hi, it’s me,” Katie said. “He hit his head on the kitchen counter as he went down and he’s banged up. It looks worse than it is though, he’s going to be totally fine,” you could tell she was saying it more to Robin than to you. “Sorry it took so long to call, we just got back from the hospital. He was sleeping, but we got to see him.”

“No, you’re good, I’m so glad you called,” you flicked the light switches that turned off all of the artwork spot lights and the main over head, so the only illumination was in the front windows, the back room where you were, and the deep blue glow from light strips on the main floor. You had not yet officially met uncle Wayne, but you knew how much he meant to all of them, especially Eddie. “What about Eddie? Was he at the hospital?”

“Eddie left when we got there,” Katie sounded confused. “He said he was going to find you.”

------

Getting a call like that from the hospital put Eddie’s head in a dark place. It sent him into survival mode; he couldn’t deal with anything else until he knew that Wayne was okay. He stayed by Wayne’s bed that night, wide awake, eyes bloodshot, knee bouncing, thinking about loving people only to lose them in the end. Fear curled its icy hand around his heart; Eddie had already lost so many people he cared about, he worried that one more would break him.

And then his thoughts rushed to you. The two of you were barely a thing, and already the idea of losing you made his eyes go black with the idea of an emptiness that had the potential to gut him beyond repair. His first instinct was to distance himself from you; he was eerily adept at closing himself off, blocking the world out, and pushing people away. In his life, whenever something good happened, he was always very suspicious about what type of disaster was right around the corner.

Yet, all he wanted in the world at that moment—besides someone to tell him that Wayne’s cancer was miraculously cured---was for you to be there with him in that dark, lonely hospital room. Machines beeping, the smell of antiseptic and bleach and dread. If you could be in his lap, he’d wrap his arms around you and close his eyes and put his head to your chest, and you’d promise him in that sweet voice of yours that nothing bad would ever happen to you, and you’d always be his. You couldn’t promise those things, and he knew that, but the idea of resting his face against the side of your neck did help him to get an hour of sleep in a very stiff chair that was too small for him.

Wayne woke up early in the morning, and Eddie was able to talk with him a bit, and get an idea of what to expect from the nurses. Once he knew that Wayne was in good hands, and he could stop spinning his wheels, he had to go back to work and take care of the three tows that were already lined up. There was one other driver, but business had been growing, and he almost needed to hire a third. Now, he also needed to find an office assistant, even though Wayne kept protesting the idea. No one could replace Wayne, but the part time help would lessen his burdens.

He should’ve called to let Robin and Steve know what happened, he realized that now, and he should’ve called you, but the day got so damn busy so fast, and since Wayne was okay, he didn’t want to alarm anyone needlessly. He’s lucky Robin didn’t slap him across the face, because she looked like she was about to.

By the time he finished up at the garage and went over to check on Wayne one more time, it was late---but he needed to see you. He had to see your face before his heart exploded.

--------

You had just hung up from the phone call with Katie and Robin when you jumped at the sound of a soft tapping noise. At first, you didn’t know where it was coming from, and your ear prickled as you tried to use it as an antennae to guide you to the sound. The main floor was full of shadows; only dark blue atmosphere lights that made you feel like you were in an aquarium, and the illumination from the front window.

Tap, tap, tap, tap.

You stepped around one of the big, freestanding artwork dividers, just as you realized the sound was coming from the front window.

And then you saw him.

Shrouded in the residual purple darkness of a sunset, standing at the front door with one knee out to the side, hand down low, knuckle casually but repetitively hitting the glass. Wearing all black; jeans, leather, shirt, the only color peaking out was from his tattoos. Your eyes found each other at the same time, just as you came into view, and it was all you could do not to start giggling and skipping along at how happy you were to see him.

You tried to wipe the smile off of your face as you headed for the door. “I’m sorry, sir, but we’re closed,” you were shaking your head, frowning, trying to act like you didn’t know who he was.

The stern look on his face slipped a little at the corners of his mouth, but he maintained intense eye contact with you, continuing the tap...tap…tap, with the hand that said “H-E-L-L” across the knuckles while the other knuckles spelled out “F-I-R-E”, until you got closer and there was nothing but a pane of glass between the two of you. You broke eye contact just long enough to twist open the double locks, and then he stood there in the doorway bit longer, bracing his arm high on the frame; shirt and coat rising to show the hint of a tattoo at his hip.

“Can I take you to dinner? Are you hungry?” He asked as you motioned him in. He was reluctant because he didn’t think he’d be allowed in there. Much like a vampire, he had to be invited.

“Sure, but, it’s late,” you said as you secured the door again. He turned to you, about to say something else, but then you closed in on him, grabbing onto his jacket with both hands, hips coming together, and he brought his hands to rest on the top of your shoulders. “I’m really glad Wayne is okay,” you whispered, regarding him with the utmost sincerity.

He played with a wisp of hair at the base of your neck. “I should’ve called you, but I--”

“You’re here now,” you beamed. His left eye was swollen, with a bit of bluish black discoloration, and there was a tiny butterfly band-aid over the small cut above his eyebrow.

“I’m here, sweetheart,” he returned in a low voice, bending down to kiss your lips, gripping one side of your neck as he did, his thumb stretching up over your jaw. You moaned against his mouth and the sound made his brow clench, stretching his other hand down to casually adjust himself in his jeans.

He moved his hand around the back of your neck as you pulled apart, his eyes trained on your mouth. “How is your tongue?” He almost couldn’t even talk about it, the idea of you getting hit in the face—even accidentally—made him want to start punching walls.

You raised your eyebrows a few times. “I could still eat, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“There’s that all night diner down a couple streets,” his voice a low mumble. “They have those vegetarian burger things, I checked.”

For some reason, that thoughtful gesture sent you even further over the moon about him, and you slipped one hand into his back pocket while the other one played with his wallet chain. “And what will you have? A big, fat steak?”

“The bloodier the better,” he said, running the tip of his tongue over his lower lip.

You planted another quick kiss on him, and then, “here, follow me. I just have one more thing to finish up and then we can go get some blood in your mouth again.”

The front desk against the wall was long and rectangular and came up to your waist. You pulled one of the stools out from under the alcove and placed it next to you so that he could have a seat while you finished sorting some invoices under the dim blue light. Eddie sat with his back against a filing cabinet, legs spread wide, one hand on his hip, the other forearm on his thigh, the hand with the digital wrist watch hanging down between. He tilted his head to watch you as you bent over several times to scribble something on a piece of paper.

“Hey, baby,” he whispered, and you threw him a bashful look over your shoulder. “Come to me,” and he slapped his hand on his leg a few times, directing you where to sit. “You’re too far away.”

He probably meant for you to side-saddle him like he was Santa Claus, but instead, you slid your skirt up your thighs and straddled his whole leg, facing him, like you were about to ride his thigh like a horse, hands braced on his chest. Eddie smirked at how you crawled onto him, he cupped one palm under your butt cheek and popped his knee a few times so that you were, indeed, riding him.

“I like it when you call me baby,” you told him as he brought a hand up to either side of your face, tucking hair behind your ears, brushing his thumb across your skin, metal rings cool as they scissored your ear.

“Yeah?” He asked, dark eyes searching yours. “What else do you like?”

You brought your hand up and ran your finger down his full lips, gently pulling the bottom one open as you went. “I like your mouth.”

He kissed your finger, said a quiet, “you can have it,” and then, with both hands, pulled your face to his, lips parting, tongues exploring, faces turning to avoid noses and lick deeper, hungry moans rising. You slipped a hand around the side of his warm throat, dipping your fingers into the downy hair at the base of his skull, his tiny silver cross earring grazing your hand.

It was only then that you became aware of the grinding you were doing on his leg, and by the time you were aware of it, you didn't want to stop. You needed it, you were drunk on the sweetness of his mouth, the spicy pine and leather of his scent. It was one of the first warm nights in a while, and so you weren’t wearing nylons or tights, and the thin material of your underwear was the only barrier between his denim and your cookie box.

Eddie knew what was happening from the first twitch of your pelvis, and one of his hands slid down to your hip, locking you there, encouraging it. You started to push off of the balls of your feet to deepen the friction as the need for stimulation increased.

“That’s my baby,” Eddie growled as you put your forehead to his. He slid his hand around to make a fist in your hair, pulling your head back so that he could have access to your throat. He sucked at your pulse point, groaning as he did so, while your other hand clung to his jacket for dear life.

The hair tug made you whimper. “That,” you breathed. “I like that too.”

He tightened his grip, taking control of your head, forcing your lips back to his for another deep kiss. He was lifting his leg to meet your needs now, anticipating the rhythm. “Good girl, I got you,” his voice was barely a murmur, lips grazing yours. You started to saw faster back and forth on his leg, slipping one hand down to his other thigh to anchor you, caught unaware at how good it felt and how close you were.

Outside, people were still passing by on the sidewalk, finishing up with their dinners and heading home, or to a bar, but the desk blocked you from view so no one could see that you were rocking like a cowgirl bound for hell.

Your underwear were soaked now, seeping onto his jeans; your cunt swollen and aching against the perfect mix of friction against his denim. You were breathless, mumbling the answer to an unasked question, “uh huh uh huh oh god,” as he put your forehead back to his, one hand still clenched in your hair. You were whispering incoherent parts of words, saying his name, and then you started to feel a spring bounce open inside of you. Eddie could feel it too; you trembled and choked his name one more time, and then you fell forward, curling against him with quickened thrusts.

He tilted his head so that your mouth could find his neck to use as a muffle for your scream, your tongue melting on the salt of his skin. His strong arms secured your body to his as you continued to grind on his leg. “I got you, baby, cum for me…” he coaxed, bracing your hip and the back of your head.

But it wouldn’t take much coaxing, because suddenly you were there: stiffening up against him, letting out a sharp cry just below his ear, one hand holding the other side of his head as if you were feeding on his jugular. His grip on you tightened as your body shuddered, going blind for a second, whimpering against his throat.

Eddie let out a guttural curse as the wetness from your warm pussy penetrated the skin beneath his denim, pre-cum soaking the tip of his cock inside his jeans in response. You let your full weight fall against him, safe, knowing he wouldn’t let you fall, pussy contracting in the afterglow, face buried in his neck and hair.

“Damn, what was that,” you gasped once you were finally able to speak, shoulders trembling in the afterquake. Should you be embarassed? You’d never cum like that before in your life.

He gave a throaty chuckle, his hand rubbing up and down on your back. “I won’t be washing these jeans for a while.”

You were starting to sit up, smoothing your hair back and licking your lips, when you noticed the cherry red glow of a hickey appearing on his neck surrounded by some teeth indentations. “Oops,” you ran your thumb over it, thinking it might be lipstick. “I marked you, now I guess that means you’re mine.”

“I’m fine with it,” his serious eyes found yours from under hooded, sleepy lids.

You were both starving by the time you locked up the gallery, and Eddie’s bike was parked close, so you agreed to ride with him, and then he’d bring you back to your car after. You had brought a change of clothes with you, as you always did so that you could get out of your fussy gallery clothes as quickly as possible, and now you were comfortable in jeans and a t-shirt with your black converse. You hadn’t thought to bring a change of underwear, but you would from now on.

Out on the sidewalk, you eyeballed the big beast of a bike with only a tiny space on the seat for a second rider. He lit a smoke and passed you the helmet that had been hanging on one of his handlebars.

You looked down at it. “But, don’t you need to wear this?”

He shook his head, cigarette pressed between his lips. “I only have one with me, and your head is more important than mine.” He zipped up his jacket and swung one leg over, mounting it.

He could tell you were hesitating. “We’re only going a couple blocks,” he assured you. “If you hate it, you never have to get on this thing again.”

“No, no, it’s not that,” you scrambled to find the right words as you strapped your bag across your body put the helmet on, tightening the chin strap. The helmet was way too big for you and you worried you looked like a real dork. “I’m just not sure...how to do this.”

He hitched his chin at you, planting his feet on either side to hold the chopper steady. “Grab onto the back of my jacket, put this foot here...and then swing the other one over.”

Once you were on, you adjusted your bum on the seat and held onto the sides of his leather, fingers clawing at him nervously, letting him know that you were ready.

Eddie kicked the beast to life with a hop and a twist of his fits on the handlebars; it growled its obedience loud and fierce. People stopped on either side of the street to turn and see where the noise was coming from, and most of them stayed to watch as Eddie walked the massive, menacing bike out to get a clean shot in through the passing cars.

He took one of your hands and brought it around so that it was at his stomach, your chin at his shoulder. “Hold on tight, baby,” he called to you over the roar, and then he lifted his feet and the two of you shot into the night, his discarded cigarette bouncing to the pavement in a dance of orange sparks.

A few cars away, down at the dark end of the street, a white Jaguar idled with the headlights off, and the blonde woman behind the wheel cursed under her breath as she watched the two of you go, anger and jealousy tightening her face. Charlene Gregson was smoking a cigarette, too, and on the exhale, she hissed, “I’m going to make her regret she ever met you, Edward Munson.”

---------

Katie’s eyes rolled back in her head as Robin’s fingers worked her in the perfect spot, “fuck, right there right there,” and then Robin put her other hand over Katie’s mouth to keep her quiet as her orgasm mounted. Oliver was asleep across the hall, and Steve was having a beer in front of the TV after just getting off work. Her cries properly muffled, Robin curled the fingers of her other hand deep in the honey pot and bent her head to find Katie’s nipple with her mouth.

Katie was trying to tell her something, heels digging into the bed, her body gyrating against Robin’s hand. Robin thought she was just really vocal in bed, but then she felt the warm spray coat her hand in bursts, and that’s when she found out, in a moment of awe, that Katie was a squirter.

--------

On Sunday, Katie was working on lessons plans for the first day back after break, but you convinced her to let you take her out to dinner. Later on, you showed up at the tattoo shop Steve worked at just as he was bent over inking a big lower back butterfly for a woman. You flipped through the flash in the tattoo books, talking about maybe getting matching ones. Katie had a tattoo on her ankle, and you had one on your shoulder blade in honor of your grandmother, but neither of you were close to the quantity and quality of work that Steve, Robin, and Eddie had, but you had to start somewhere.

“Did you know that Robin has had two of her girlfriend’s names tattooed on her?” Katie asked you, loud enough for Steve to hear.

Still focused on what he was working on, Steve joined the conversation. “Hey, I didn’t put those names on her, but I was excited when she let me cover them up.”

Robin was at work that afternoon; at one of her side gigs as a maid at one of the fancy local hotels, and it was optimal because she was always able to bring Oliver with her. He loved taking home the tiny shampoo bottles and soaps.

“I can always draw up a design for you girls, if you have something in mind,” Steve announced, looking up briefly as the two of you came up to the counter to say goodbye.

“What do you think?” Katie turned to you, one eyebrow up. “Maybe a dotted line across our throats that says ‘cut here’?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time I did that one,” Steve mumbled.

---------

On the opposite side of town in the industrial district, Eddie had a guy by the throat and was sliding him up a brick wall in an alley, holding him there, his feet off the ground, trying to kick out feebly.

“Did you think I wouldn’t find you?” Eddie asked him with a tilt of his head, voice calm but eyes narrowed.

The guy was struggling for air, spitting, face going blue, and all he could do was bare his teeth in a slobbery grimace.

“Check his pockets,” Eddie told the other two bikers that were with him, bracing the guy against the wall like he weighed nothing.

The object of Eddie’s chokehold was a weaselly snake of a man named Rollo who borrowed a large sum of money under Eddie’s name from the Coffin Kings, gambled it all away, and tried to split town. Eddie was supposed to bust his knee caps, but scaring the actual piss out of him, and taking his wallet was punishment enough, he felt. Eddie could be a very violent man if he wanted to, but only on his terms and never at anyone else’s command. Rollo’s two other friends were on the ground; one was unconscious and the other one was doubled over in pain.

“Look in my eyes,” Eddie told Rollo as the other guys found Rollo’s wallet and continued digging around for whatever else he had on him. “The next time you see these eyes, you won’t be able to walk away on two legs, do you understand?”

Rollo nodded a few tiny nods, and Eddie released his hand, letting his body slump to the ground against the wall, coughing, trying to swallow. He was stocky with a beer belly, but short, bald with a goatee.

“Now, get the fuck out of here,” Eddie grumbled as he turned on his heel. “Get the hell out of this town if you know what’s good for you.”

Eddie released a heavy sigh as he mounted his bike, pausing just for a second to remember how tight your body had been pressed against him the night before, the way you had clung to him for dear life, screaming a little when he turned corners. At dinner, you held his hand across the table, right in front of everyone, as if being with a grease monkey and a thug like him didn’t bother you at all. He didn’t know you’d grown up poor, with an alcoholic mother, and you had to learn to be scrappy as hell to get the things you wanted—nothing had been handed to you. He assumed that the two of you had grown up on opposite side of the tracks, in a sense, that you were perfect and polished, and one day soon, you’d realize that he was far from it.

He should’ve been on top of the world knowing that he had you to look forward to, but Eddie had a bad feeling in his gut that he couldn’t ignore. That ominous, invisible tug reminding him that something was about to go wrong was ever-present.

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

There was a downpour on Sunday night, and you were just about to check the answering machine to see if Eddie called while Katie started her yoga practice in the living room, when Jeff showed up at your door unannounced. The frantic knocking on the front window made you both jump, and then, there he was in a big, clear poncho with a hood over his head. He shook himself out on the porch before he came in all the way, unbuttoning his slicker to hang it on one of the coat hooks. Jeff had never been to your place before, so you were amused at how he just made himself at home. He took his shoes off before he stepped onto the carpet, even though that wasn’t something either of you required of your house guests.

“Why aren’t you answering your phone?” He demanded, clearly distraught, looking around as if to check and see where the phone in question was.

“We just got home a little bit ago,” Katie told him, sitting up on her mat to pull her knees to her chest. “What’s going on?”

“Did you listen to the message I left?” He pressed, eyes wide and blinking dramatically at you.

The light was flashing on the machine and your finger was on the button to play the messages back, but you hadn’t pushed it yet, and you flipped a glance at Katie, your heart racing a little.

“Jeff,” you sighed, exasperated. “Please, you’re here, just tell me.”

Jeff puffed out a long breath, hang high on his hip. “First, tell me why you’re leaving the gallery. Is it because of me?”

Disbelief took hold of you initially; you were sure Jeff had just overheard something wrong or made a mistake.

Jeff continued. “If it’s not because of me, and you’re just going to a better gallery, please, take me with you?”

“Hold on,” you put your hand up, trying to make sense of what he was saying as you sat down in the wood chair by the phone. “What made you think I was quitting?”

Jeff’s disturbingly bright blue eyes softened as they found yours and he realized that you didn’t know what he was talking about.

He went over and took a seat at one of the padded bar stools next to the kitchen island, and then he looked down at his hands, suddenly wishing he would’ve waited for you to check your messages.

“I had to go in and get my check late today because I was gone Saturday,” he paused almost as if that was the end of it, but then he lifted his head, an apologetic look on his face as he looked at you. “Judith said I needed to come in for a couple hours on Wednesday to train with the new manager because you were leaving.”

You froze, letting that sink in. Still an element of denial present, you wondered if maybe Jeff heard Judith wrong---perhaps another manager from a different gallery was visiting? But, if so, why wouldn’t you know about it? Why would Judith tell Jeff about it and not you?

“Hunny?” Katie called to you because you weren’t saying anything, your mouth was just hanging open. You snapped it shut abruptly and swallowed.

Jeff shook his head, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be the one to---” sure, Jeff loved a good gossip train, but he genuinely did not want to be the one to inadvertently break it to you that you had been fired without a warning. “I thought you quit, and you just didn’t want to tell me. I thought you already knew.”

Your mind went to Judith’s face at the art show on Saturday, how she had been throwing you dirty looks while simultaneously avoiding you. You were already fired then, and you just didn’t know it.

“I’m fine,” you breathed a forced laugh, hoping to calm everyone else in the room even though your stomach clenched with fear of the unknown. “Everything is fine, I’ll be fine. I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding.”

Jeff and Katie exchanged a look, and then they both turned back to you, but your eyes were focused on the floor, the tip of your tongue hovering on your top lip, pensively. Outside, a blast of thunder boomed so hard, there was the equivalent of a light bulb flash in the front window, and a few of the neighborhood car alarms went off, bleating like ominous warnings in the distance.

-------

Later that night, long after Jeff left and Katie had gone to bed, you sat out in the dark of the living room, alone, playing back the messages at low volume while rain continued its lullaby on the windows.

There were four: two from Jeff, one from a credit card company, and...one from Eddie. You had already played it several times, but you played it again, this time with your head tilted, ear close to the speaker of the machine, and your eyes closed.

“...hey, it’s me,” his deep voice wavered a bit and then he cleared his throat. “...damn, you know I hate these things….but I got home and wanted to tell you…that I was thinkin’ about you.”

You’d been holding the stress of the past few hours at bay, letting the knowledge of your abrupt and back-stabbing dismissal tighten in your stomach, but then the sound of his voice broke you a little, and your chest hitched a few times, a single tear making its way down the bridge of your nose.

There was a long pause where it sounded like he was stretching. “...you can call me...or not…I hope you had a good day. Mine was shit,” you could hear him whistle a bit and click his tongue, wondering what to say while simultaneously feeling stupid for talking to a machine. “Let me know if we’re still on for Tuesday night…I’d really like to...to see you again. Okay, later.”

And then, he was gone. You played it several more times before you went to bed, angrily wiping tears off your cheeks. You couldn’t talk to him just yet; you were still too confused and blindsided to get into it with anyone. Plus, you were exhausted, and triggered by rising feelings of abandonment and worthlessness. After you dealt with whatever lame excuse of a conversation Judith had in store for you when you went into work the next day, maybe you’d just stop by the garage to see him for a bit. Maybe he’d be able to fuck the pain away.

----------

Part 7

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Taglist xoxo @unfocused81 @manicmagicmahem @dream-a-little-nightmare @ms1oftheboys @emxcast @falling-solar-system @corrodedcoffincumslut @lofaewrites @nope-thanks @kelsiegrin @tlclick73 @truffleshuffle12 @aysheashea @etherealglimmer @hellv1ra @bexreadstoomuch @kurdtbean @seventhlevelofhell @stylesxmunson @ireidsmut @lilpotatobean2 @leilaloufeyson02

#eddie munson #older eddie munson #bikereddiemunson #eddiemunsonsmut #eddiemunsonseries #strangerthingseddiemunson #eddie munson angst #eddimunsonxfemreader #femreader

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sophieeeet · 8 days

Text

The more I breath, the more I love you °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*

>>>Pairing: Gf!femreader x Bf!Soobin

>>>Content : When your boyfriend Soobin is busy & stressed preparing for the groups upcoming comeback, you plan a whole evening for him to relax and please him

>>> warning : Smut 18+ , smau + written , Fluff, cumming inside, oral ( f. Receiving) nipple sucking , pussy eating, Unprotected sex, overstimulation, petname used ( princess, love , babygirl , pretty baby etc ) , creampie, breeding kink, bulge kink , tooth rotting.

Feeling your Cheeks heat up from How Nervous and anxious you feel about this but you stay put to your plan. Your Boyfriend has been working for the past 3 Month for the Upcoming comeback the Group is having soon without any day off and He still manages to spend As much as free time he gets with you , Being the Perfect boyfriend to you

As you Recall how you feel Soft bunny Lips pecking your cheeks Every Morning and a squeaky Goodbye And Love You from him and how he much he apologises for not Being a good boyfriend to you when He’s doing more than enough for you .

So that’s when you Planned that you wanted to do something for him, You wanted him to know how much you Love Him and how proud you are of him because of his efforts.

Your Lashes Fluttered shut as you Sprinkle yourself in Your Favourite Perfume, Lavender With Warm Vanilla notes , something your Boyfriend couldn’t resist whenever you wore it. Your Heart soaring in Excitement at the thought of him Coming home anytime soon .

With your Hair softly curled sat on your shoulders Neatly , Pink Mary jane that your boyfriend bought you in a Perfect combination with your Babypink Silk Robe , Underneath that sat a beautiful white Lacey Piece of Lingerie that you absolutely Adored and You’re sure that your boyfriend would love it too And Your Freshly done Nails with white and pink design

So you Planned the Whole Evening for him to surprise Him Tonight. Give and show him what he Deserves to know that How much you Love Him and you’re incredibly proud of him .

You are Pulled from Your thought as You Here the familiar Beeps of the door lock, as you Excitedly make your way towards the living room to greet him

Entering the Apartment Soobin shared With his girlfriend , He didn’t expect you at the doorway by this time as you’re probably asleep by the time he’s home these days, But when he noticed your Arms All Open with your gorgeous smile Gracing your face he can’t help but chuckle while walking towards you only for him to pull you into a Tight and Secure Embrace .

Chuckling at you Sign of relief when he Kissed your Forehead as he breathes in your scent, snuggling to your neck to give it a soft peck only to pull back a little

As He kisses your lips slowly and softly with a smile on his Bunny Feature

“ Pretty you don’t know how much I missed this , Missed you “ He mumbles as he pulls away slightly to scan your face

Realisation Crosses his Features as he Takes in Your state

Soobin Didn’t notice what you were wearing because of the dark lights of the whole apartment

But you watch as his Jaw fall to the ground as his eyes roam over your Body , Taking in your Beautiful Godly Gracious Body Wrapped up in your Babypink Robe which leaves nothing to the Imagination, His darken Brown orbs Gawk at Your White Lace covered Breast that looks Flushed Against the Silk Fabric

His now darken eyes meets yours as a smirk take over his face as he walks slowly towards you saying

“Has My Baby Dolled up looking all pretty for me ? “

You unconsciously take steps back , taking a breath at the tension, Your gaze drops as you answer him

“ I wanted to surprise you “

“ Really? My Princess wanted to surprise me? That’s Very thoughtful of you, My Love “ while Caressing your Now red cheeks Affectionately

You Moan as Soobin Started to Leave a trail of soft kisses from your cheeks to your neck

Your Breath Hitches as you feel his Teeth nips a certain soft at your neck that causes you to moan sultry

“ Mhm- Binnie P-Please “

“ Please What ? , Princess “

“ I want you-u to--- “ you Gasp when his Hot mouth trails towards the Valley of your breast .

“ You want me to do what , Princess say it Loud and Clear “ He mumbles against your soft skin while leaving sloppy Kisses as his hands roams down from your waist to your hips , Giving your ass a tight squeeze, parting your thighs with his legs.

You’re in too much of heat for affection and sexual need that makes your mouth go dry , no words being able to come out, Just Heavy Breaths .

You let out a small squeak as Soobin’s hand reaches inside your robe , giving a light slap to thighs as his hands snakes towards your lacy panties .

You inhale a sharp breath as he starts to draw circles at the already wet spot on your panties right above your soaking cunt .

“ My baby is wet already ? , but I haven’t even started it yet ? “ Soobin chuckles lifting his head from you chest to look at your Red Face, full of pure Bliss from the stimulation caused by those large fingers, smiling as He Steals a kiss from you

“ Come on baby say it , Say It to me and I’ll give it you “ He whispers against your lips .

Soobin Fingers stops Giving you the Mere Pleasure causing you to Whimper out of embarrassment as how Desperate you’re getting, Only wanting Soobin to continue with the Pleasure you say it exactly what he wanted to Hear with your eyes Squeezed shut from how expose you feel right now.

“ I want you-u to fuck me “ You whisper but Soobin hears it nonetheless.

Grinning Ear to ear, Soobin picks you up by your waist as you wrap your legs around his Slender waist while he’s Eating your face out at this point

“ Binnie it’s Ticklish here , stop“ While giggling Hard at his Behaviour .

“ Really?”

“ Does the Kiss tickles this much? Huh-?”

Soobin Questions Playfully as you Laughs while Hiding your face in his neck.

As he Guides you two towards the end of the bed while leaving a trail of kisses on you neck, making you feel hot all over again

You both Desperately claws at eachothers clothing

As You take a Shaky breath in as Soobin undo your silk bow that secured your robe tightly to your waist Revealing your White cotton lingerie which hugged your body

You blush as you take in the look on as Soobin’s widen eyes which screams for hunger and lust.

“ I still can’t believe that you’re mine Princess, won’t be able to believe it anytime soon , you make me go insane , you make me feel Loved Every breath this heart takes” He says while guiding your right hand towards his Heart as he rest his forehead against yours.

Your eyes Widen at the Sudden feel of something twitch on your lower belly as you lift your eyes to watch the shy ones of your Boyfriend’s

“ You drive me so insane ,and you don’t even Know ” He murmured while he Begins to peel Off your Bra swiftly freeing your boobs as he latches his mouth onto your left nipple while pinching the right one with his hand making you mewl out a sultry whine as he lays your body onto the bed .

Soobin works his way to give you pleasure as His lips gives attention to both nipples as he softly bites them to pull out another loud gasp from you at the Sudden tug

His hot mouth trails from your breast to your belly , leaving a sloppy kiss to every inch of your skin making his way to your heat below And then he’s pulling – tearing your drenched panties . Flashing you a devilish grin at the sinful strings of slick that connect you to the flimsy fabric.

With a rasped out breath, fucked-out little grunt, he’s surging forward, diving face first into your pretty pussy. Nose pressing against your throbbing clit, licking a long, languid stripe up your swollen folds.

“Oh hngh- please.” You mewl, as he buries himself deeper into your dripping cunt. Tongue bullying its way past your folds to lap at your slick, not stopping till he’s had his fill of your sweet juices. “M-more.”

Two large hands dip into your waist as he wraps his glossy lips around your pulsing clit to suck more of you , both keeping you still and supporting your weight as your knees weaken.

“Sure you can handle more, babygirl?” Electricity runs up your spine as your boyfriend rolls his tongue across your clit just the way he knew you liked as you Moan out of pleasure loudly making Soobin suck at your pussy even more , causing you to reach your high so fast that you choke at your own breaths .

“Ah- fuck fuck fuck- hngh- yes!” you moan, body jerking violently at the way he hit a certain spot over and over again .

“uhhhh- nnh I’m cuming-ng ” as you body rocks with the orgasm as Soobin Desperately sucks in all of you sweet juices like a starved man so hard that your body shakes afterwards from how hard you came right now .

Soobin finally lifts his head with you juices displayed on his nose as he gathers it and lick it one go while You watch him with lustful eyes , adoring his Features as Soobin makes his way towards your face while kissing your belly , nipples , collarbone and finally your lips passionately .

Soobin tugs at his office pants as he removes them quickly , desperately wanting to be inside you as he peels off his shirt Revealing his broad shoulders as your mouth waters at the chiseled front , hands roams over the familiar places of his upper body, Running your hands along his body , feeling his abs and limbs to his face pulling him for a kiss while eyes closed both of your body clings to eachother

You both feel the rush of love through your veins pulling eachother impossibly close.

Yet your greedy hands are momentarily stunned as he lets his boxers fall to the floor Rock-hard cock springing up and hitting his stomach.

He was so painfully hard that it made your cunt quiver in anticipation. Red and throbbing, soaked in precum and glistening in the dim lighting. Twitching at the sound of your voice as you say “Want you to fucking take all of me , soobie.” You blink up at Soobin , all doe-eyed and teary after your last orgasm.

And oh does that was the last straw of his patience getting snapped – maybe his sanity, maybe you by the end of this, because before you know it, Soobin’s spreading your legs with his knee. Biting his bottom lip as your slick trails down your pretty cunt and onto your legs.

“Whatever you say princess.” He grits out, dragging his weeping tip across your swollen folds. Collecting your sweet juices on his head.

You keen as Soobin bullies his massive cock into your cunt on the last word. “Ngh- S-Soobin.” You whine, vision flashing at the stretch. No matter how many times Soobin is in, you full of his cock – his size never failed to Stretch you out.

“Shhh, it’s okay. You can take it.” Trying to steady your breathing as he rams into you in quick, mindless little jabs to fit himself inside your snug pussy. “I’ll make sure of it, pretty baby .

Splitting you apart deeper and deeper onto his cock, veins rubbing so deliciously against all the right spots. A maddening little bump! Bump! Bump! Matching your heartbeat.

“Ah! Hngh- Fuck fuck fuck, m’so full.” You keen, heels digging into his hips as tears streams down your face out of pleasure.

Sliding down his cock far enough that his heavy balls meet your ass, already so wet with precum and slick. , you were so full of him you almost felt like he was pushing against your lungs , he presses the visible bulge on your belly while rutting in you rhythmically.

Today he was giving you all of his , All of his love pouring into you through the hard thrust he gives you

“Oh, baby you feel incredibly tight as always.” Soobin hisses, throwing his head back, crying out of how good he’s making you feel you bite onto your finger to suppress the high pitch moans your about to let out but Soobin takes both of your hand in his as he locks them above your head.

His Hips and yours moves in sync as he increases his pace even more making you reach your high as you scream as pleasure washes over you as cum on his cock making his eyes roll at how tight your squeezing him.

His Tortures Hips continues to slam inside your walls, removing his hold on your hands he holds your waist in place as he hits your g-spot , rutting his cock in and out of you as you feel it hits your cervix at a continuous pace causing overstimulation making you dig your nails on his back .

All the blood draining to his cock at the idea of fucking his cum into you till you couldn’t walk. Till you were so full of him that he was the only one you could think of.

Today is one of those days when Soobin can’t get enough of your sweet moans and gasp that you let out every thrust , every ramming of his cock gives you , loving the glow on your face as his face adores yours while those tears rolls down to your cheeks from the pleasure you feel right now .

“C’mon, love .” Soobin moans, hips out of control now. Taking in the way your head was thrown back, body bouncing each time he rammed his cock into your tight cunt. But oh how he wanted to see the fucked-out expression on your face. “Look at me princess , Want your eyes only on me .”

So cockdrunk and delirious, you barely register the way Soobin cradles your head to press his sweaty forehead against yours. Only looking up at him with delirious heart-eyes as he milked himself on your sloppy pussy.

“Shit feel s’perfect splitting-apart on me” he gasps into your mouth. “Need to cum inside you ,love” quickering from the overstimulation your sensitive cunt feels “Need to fill you up- ah- need this need this- fuck.”

“Shit shit shit, Soobin m’so close. I’m hngh-”

A hand hurriedly unwraps from your waist to draw rapid, desperate little patterns on your cunt. Not even circles anymore because shit Soobin couldn’t think of anything aside from the way your pussy was milking him so good- And how he was gonna fuck a baby into you if he keeps on going like this---

Body bowing into yours, as your teeths latching onto the crook of his neck, biting down right over his pulse from the excruciating pleasure Soobin’s hitting . Fingers digging and bruising on your hips, holding your body to not move away from his cock as he cums with a strangled moan. Hard. Almost painfully so.

White-hot pleasure behind his eyes, pumping thick, hot ropes to fill your snug cunt. Both of you gasping for air at the overstimulation you felt the moment Soobin Thrusts went almost carnal to the point you came twice

Still inside you as his cock continues to milk all of his loads as both of you face flushed red from the pleasure you both raced after

Glowy face in the dark, the face of two lovers who made love to eachother as there body tangled with eachother in sweats and essence of sweetness in the air

Your plan went all well , The thought makes you giggle as Soobin raises his brow at you Playfully as you just shake your head at him and wrap you arms around him as he pulls out of you to only to rush you towards the bathroom to clean up and take shower together

You smile wide as he massages your scalp in shower humming a familiar tune as you join in to hum the tune to your favourite song together as you turn around to massage his head as well , feeling content in the movement.

Soobin rest his head on yours as he whispers “ you’re mine forever princess, no option given ”

As you chuckle at his statement saying .

“same goes to you Soobie , you’re stuck with me for life ”

“Gladly Babygirl . ” He says as pecks you forehead, only to sticking his tongue out in disgust as he tasted some of the body wash As you burst out laughing at his facial expression, joining you to laughing at himself as the sound of your laugh is melody to his ears .

#txt soobin #soobin smut #choi soobin x reader #soobin x reader #choi soobin #txt smut #smut #txt #tomorrow x together #kang taehyun #yeonjun #beomgyu #hueningkai #kpop

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foli-vora · 10 months

Text

run to you: ch.6

A/N: and we're back! originally thought this would be out last week but i couldn't shake the feeling that it needed more so i delayed it a little and sure enough, an extra 4k words came out lmao. we get a lot more of marcus' POV with this chapter which is nice to write, and some more flashbacks that make my heart hurt. let me know what you think! enjoy angels! x

P.S i've been god awful at replying to reblogs and comments lately but i just want you to know that i treasure you all so damn much, and i read every bit of feedback left again and again and i swear i could cry with how much you all mean to me, so thank you for taking the time to read this story and leave me kind words - forever will appreciate you beauties ❤️

Summary: Following on from ‘Traitor’ and ‘You’re Somebody Else’. An unexpected visitor throws you right back into the life you thought you left behind. Working beside the man that put you behind bars is one thing, pretending like you never loved him is another.

Word count: 6.6k (i hope this makes up for the wait lmao)

Warnings: angst (obviously), swearing, Patrick Jane is a warning, heartbreak, lots of talk of lies and the undercover job, a very brief moment of softness, talk of murder and descriptions about the circumstances, vague description of a bullet wound, talk of death, jealous!marcus is being birthed LMAO sir u have no right

main masterlist | series masterlist

This story will have explicit sexual scenes in the future so 18+ only.

The room is blurry.

You’re highly aware of how you pace like a caged lion outside his closed office door but simply can’t find it in you to still your anxious limbs. You catch the bright green eyes following your movements from across the room, but you struggle to hold his gaze longer than a second in fear of what you’d find swimming in them.

Surely Jacob must know now after the meeting. He’d know it’s your fault. Is he angry? Does he see you differently now? People are dead because of you and your mistake. You should’ve known better than to get caught up on the history you and Marcus share, and now you’re going to have to pay for it. You’ll have to carry those lives on your shoulders for the rest of your life.

It’s bitter.

The tears are hot when they spill over your lash line and track down your cheeks, but you’re quick to wipe them away and instead focus on the ceiling, blinking wildly in hope to calm the sting of more.

What are you going to say? What can you say?

There’s very little that would make up for this. A simple sorry wouldn’t cut it. There’s the promise of doing better next time, but would he believe you? Would he even let you stay on the case? You don’t know exactly when you started caring so much about it all—hell, you didn’t even want to be here in the first place, but now? You feel like you’re doing something, something good and worthwhile, and it feels nice after the hell ride the last couple of years had been.

You were on the right side now, but apparently you didn’t belong here.

God, what are you going to say?

You don’t get much more time to think about it. The door is wrenched open and the agents that had been speaking to him privately step out, giving you a small nod in greeting before wandering off and finally giving Marcus the opportunity to see you standing there waiting, glued to that spot on the worn carpet.

Frozen. You’re frozen, unsure of whether to say hello or goodbye, or skip straight to the apologies that are building on your tongue.

His eyebrows raise in obvious surprise as he falters in the doorway, obviously not expecting you of all people to be waiting for him, and you see the quick flutter of something unidentifiable through his eyes.

For a moment, nothing is said, but then the words fall from your lips in a panicked burst—

“It’s my fault.”

The expression of shock quickly gives way to confusion, and his eyes bounce between yours in an effort to follow your train of thought.

“What is?”

“The murders… it’s my fault, isn’t it? I did something wrong. God, Marcus, I—I’m sorry, I swear I’ll do better—”

He wordlessly steps aside during your little ramble and you take the silent offer of entering his office, anxiety growing with the click of his door closing behind you. You start to pace again, your heart beating thickly in your throat. Your mind races with the what ifs, and how he’ll go about dismissing you from the case.

Are you in trouble? How much? Have you pissed off the FBI higher ups? Are they sick of you? Is it enough for them to just throw you back into jail and forget about your silly little existence?

A chill creeps along your spine and you start to feel sick.

No.

No, he wouldn’t do that. Not again.

He said to trust him. He said he wouldn’t.

Would he?

“Please don’t send me back,” you beg softly, eyes filling at the mere idea of that tiny cold cell you called home for far too long and his face only creases further as you start to shake, “I promise I won’t make any mistakes again, I just—please, Marcus, I-I can’t go back—”

“Just… just stop,” he demands quietly, stepping forward with one hand perched on his hip and the other held out in an attempt to soothe your trembling voice, “I need you to sit down. Now, please.”

Sit down? How could you possibly sit down? You can’t, not when you’re shaking like this. You don’t think you’d even manage a single step with the fear running along your nerves like it is.

He obviously sees the state you’re quickly falling into and comes closer, hauling the visitor's chair out from beneath his desk and sliding it right up to you. He keeps a hand raised to your arm as you slowly lower into it, palm never touching you but lingering just a short distance away should you really start to break down and have your legs give out from beneath you.

Marcus drags his own chair out and slides it around his desk before stopping in front of you and taking a seat quietly. He gives you a moment, clearly studying the tears that run down your cheeks with a deepening frown before he leans forward, bracing his forearms along his thighs and looking up at you with a slight shine of concern.

“What’s going on?”

He must want you to say it, to own up to your mistakes and give him the satisfaction of watching you crumble. Didn’t he get enough of that the first time?

You sniff pathetically, looking at him with a slight scowl.

“You know what’s going on. I’m not an idiot, Marcus.”

He shakes his head, “No. No, you’re not. So, can you tell me what happened? Why do you think you’re at fault for the murders?”

“That guy out there,” you mumble, wiping your cheeks with your sleeve and recalling the pressed light grey three piece suit, “he said the buyers knew that the painting was a fake, and that’s why they were killed. They knew it was a fake, Marcus, so I didn’t do a good enough job to—”

He silences you again with a flash of his hand and you swallow the desire to snap at him for it. He presses further, eyes locked with yours and you almost feel like you’re in an interrogation with how focused they seem to be. Determined.

“What guy?”

“The consultant,” you mutter quietly, “uh… Patrick, I think it was?”

The change is immediate. He sits back in his chair and looks away, almost angry. No, he is angry, but it’s not at you. He glances at the door with a small roll of his jaw before he sighs sharply and shakes his head. The usual warmth in his gaze has turned molten hot with his irritation and you can’t seem to look away.

What the hell is his problem?

“Don’t listen to a single word that comes out of his mouth. He doesn’t get to just walk in here and start acting like he knows everything about this case because he doesn’t.”

The bitterness in his voice comes as a shock.

You feel it play across your face, your eyes darting over his tightened expression in search of answers. He clearly doesn’t like the consultant, but why? You’d assume the FBI would be tight with anyone they chose to work with, and Marcus seemed to be friendly with his co-workers. He’s a damn good agent, you know that for a fact, so what’s the issue?

Maybe it’s the case—he must be stressed. Is it dragging longer than he anticipated? Had there been a lot of bumps along the road? Was this Patrick guy making it difficult?

Marcus sighs quietly, shifting in his seat and dropping his gaze to the floor.

“Look, there’s a lot of reasons this could’ve happened, okay? It’s not your fault at all. They may have already had some issues, there could’ve been bad blood from a previous deal, they could’ve asked for more than what was arranged, they might've refused to go through with the deal… we don’t know, but I don’t want you to put this on yourself. It’s not your fault.”

Staying quiet, your teeth pinch and pick at the soft skin of your inner bottom lip. How can he say that if he doesn’t know? He just said himself that there are a lot of reasons, so how does he know for sure that you’re not the reason for this happening?

It has to be you.

"Look at me," he says softly, and your eyes fly up to meet his automatically. They’re cooler now, calmer. "It's not your fault, okay?”

It takes a moment, but eventually, you give a shallow nod.

The worry slowly eases, and as much as a part of you wants to keep placing the blame on your shoulders because that’s all you deserve, it’s not as strong as the pure sincerity emanating from him.

For once, you find yourself not doubting him. You’re not the reason people have been killed. You’re not in trouble. You’re not going back to prison.

Relief.

It’s comforting, sweet and warm, and spreads out from the back of your hand. It’s not relief, it’s him. You feel the rough surface of his palm on your skin, his thumb brushing soft reassuring strokes back and forth, and it’s only then you realise his hand is covering yours.

How long has it been there?

You study the way it looks, taking a moment to recall the past touch of something similar, something just as warm and reassuring and suddenly your throat feels thick. You hate that it feels nice, that it feels familiar, even after so long.

For a brief, brief second, you allow it, mind hazy and heart aching with the flood of memories and the ghost of fingers along your body, lips beneath your ear… but it’s not him. It’s not Alex.

You pull your hand out from under his and Marcus immediately recoils, hand clenching into a tight fist as he brings it to rest on his lap.

A chill creeps over the back of your hand from the loss of warmth and you pull your sleeve down to cover it.

“I’m sorry for anything Jane said. If I had known he’d say something like that, I would’ve spoken to you beforehand. I’ll uh… I’ll get Agent Wilson to take you home. I need him back at the office to dive into what evidence Teresa’s team has given us, and you can get some rest.”

“Sounds good,” you murmur, slightly thankful you wouldn’t have to return to your workspace with the slight ache building in your temples. You feel for Jacob, who’s probably about to endure a late night at the office, but something else piques your interest. “Teresa?”

That’s a funny coincidence.

Alex had an ex named Teresa he'd told you about. He’d worked with her, and apparently had fallen pretty hard and fast, too. She had left him for another man, leaving him broken and lost and… oh.

Oh, fuck.

Is it—?

“Patrick.”

You don’t need to say anymore.

Marcus, who had seemingly followed your silent thought process easily, gives a humourless huff followed by a nod, sighing as he pinches the bridge of his nose and squeezes his eyes shut. Suddenly it all makes sense—his exhaustion, the bitter feelings towards Jane. The pressure of the case, mixed with stress of not only working with your fake ex and ex-fiance, but also the man she had left you for? Shit.

The bags beneath his eyes make sense.

You should laugh, say he’s getting what he deserves and Teresa made the right fucking choice in picking another man over him because he’s nothing but a liar and a fake, but the thirst for a bitter jab is short lived. That would be a low blow, despite everything he did to you.

“That must be hard,” you mutter, reaching for the strap on your bag and readying it over your shoulder.

“It is,” he replies softly, “but this case is a lot harder for others.”

When you glance up you find he’s already looking at you.

He holds your gaze for a moment longer before you let your eyes drop and finally stand from the chair, thanking him quietly for the time he took to talk to you. He smiles, albeit sadly, and says anytime.

You risk a quick final glance over your shoulder when you close his door, and it’s no surprise to find that he’s watching you go.

—

The morning sun bounces off of his skin where it starts to seep through your windows, breaking through the night and alerting you to the early hour.

He’s asleep, face tucked into the back of your neck and warm breath fanning over your skin. You’re still cocooned in his arms, feeling much too hot to be comfortable enough to sleep with the temperature of his bare skin against yours, but reluctant to leave his embrace.

You’d endure the stifling heat for a bit longer, just to soak up the most of this moment. There’s never been someone like him before, never been a feeling like this. It hangs in the quiet stillness as the sun starts to wake, something new and sweet and promising.

His fingers are still intertwined with yours, his hold now looser since his breathing evened out. You study the way his skin looks against yours, how easily his hand overlaps the size of yours and how rough his palm feels on the back of your hand. You brush your thumb along his, heart running wild in your chest.

“What’re you doing?” He mumbles sleepily into your skin, pressing his lips into your shoulder.

The movement of you twisting and turning his hand must’ve disturbed his sleep. You tuck your hand, still tangled with his, close to your chest as a heat rises in your cheeks.

“Looking at our hands,” you reply quietly, slightly embarrassed that you’ve been caught, “sorry for waking you.”

The arm draped over you tightens, and you relish in the feeling of pure and utter safety. Nothing can hurt you here. It’s just you and him, and the growing morning light. There’s no work, no stress, just him and his hold. You want it all the time. You want it forever.

He hums, pressing himself impossibly closer.

“What’s interesting about our hands?”

You watch as he moves them back into view, feeling the way his lashes flutter against the skin of your throat as he adjusts his face to see them better himself. His facial hair rubs and tickles along your shoulder, and you squirm away from the pleasant feeling.

“Nothing,” you smile, turning your face as best you could to meet his eyes, “I just liked the way they looked.”

His nose runs along yours, his own grin soft and tired.

“Get some sleep, Scribbles,” he mutters, pressing a long kiss to your lips and you damn near have a meltdown at the tender fondness of it, “before that beautiful smile of yours keeps me up any longer.”

“Smooth talker,” you tease lightly, exhaustion finally starting to coax your eyes into closing, “goodnight, Alex.”

He sighs, burying his face into the side of your head.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

—

His hands are sweating.

He doesn’t move for a moment, willing his heart to stop beating so damn hard. The soft feel of his slacks rubs against his palms as he rakes them down his thighs before finally standing, smoothing down his tie and attempting to act like your sudden visit to his office hasn’t shaken every thought he has in his head.

You were an unexpected visitor, but not an unwelcome one. No, never unwelcome. He’d first thought he was going to have to chase you through the damn building to sit you down and talk to you about the developments of the case, but apparently the universe had other plans.

Leave it to Patrick fucking Jane to get to you first.

The slight rush of anger returns, and he feels his defences heighten—defensive over the case, over his team, over you. He doesn’t know exactly what had been said between you both, but clearly it had been enough for you to get the wrong idea. He’s not too sure if Jane was digging for more information about the case and coming up with his own theories, or simply trying to figure out who you were and what you were doing there.

Either way, he doesn’t like it, and he needs to ensure it won’t happen again, but he can’t talk to him. No, if he tells Jane to back off then his interest in you will no doubt only grow, and he doesn’t want that. You don’t need to have Jane picking away at your brain for his own sick pleasure on top of everything else.

He leaves his office just in time to see you and Wilson disappear, and he relaxes slightly knowing you’ll soon be safe at home, no doubt bundled under a blanket with a sketchbook. His eyes scan the bullpen until he sees her, and he quickly strides the distance between them until he’s right there and asking for a moment in private.

She hesitates, and he doesn’t blame her, but soon Teresa is following him just a few steps out of hearing range and he internally delights at the slight frown working its way between Jane’s brows from across the desks.

“We need to lay some boundaries,” Marcus murmurs, crossing his arms defensively across his chest when she merely rolls her eyes at his words.

“I’m sure you and I can both be professional, Agent Pike—”

Agent Pike? Is that what it’s come to now? Sure, he knew this was going to be awkward, but he didn’t expect for her to act as coldly towards him as she is. She was the one who left him, after all.

“That’s not what I’m talking about. Jane—”

“—is an integral part of my team, and won’t be going anywhere.”

He exhales sharply, fighting the urge to roll his own eyes at her interruption.

“Understood, Agent Lisbon, but if we’re going to work together, he needs to reel it in on the theories with people that aren’t fellow agents, and if he continues to upset the civilian members of my team, I’ll be more than happy to kick him off the case along with the rest of your team.”

“You’re talking about the artist,” Teresa deduces, nodding in understanding with a vague twinge of interest and remaining unbothered by the threat of getting booted out of the investigation. “I saw them talking. Jane says she’s the one responsible for the replicas.”

Marcus sighs, arms tightening against his chest. It’s not a question but he gives a nod of confirmation anyway. He highly doubts that would’ve been something you would’ve freely admitted to a complete and utter stranger, so he assumes Jane has already been playing his little mind games.

“How’d she end up forging paintings for the FBI?” The interest grows, he sees it play across her face. “Doesn’t exactly seem like a dream career path for an aspiring artist.”

There’s a slight tone there. He doesn’t know what it is, but he doesn’t like it.

“That information has nothing to do with this case,” he replies firmly—defensively, “and it will remain that way. She has nothing to do with this investigation beyond providing her skills. Keep him on a tight leash, Agent Lisbon. I won’t tolerate it happening again, understood?”

There’s a barely there smile playing at the edges of her lips as she answers and it does nothing to calm his unease, “Understood, Agent Pike.”

—

Some of the faces on the table are familiar, and it almost feels like deja vu.

Most of the suspects in this case are new and some fully identified, however there were a few faces he vividly remembers from before. The people you had worked with, some had been jailed—like you, only with a much longer, unforgiving sentence—while others had slipped through the cracks and were simply left to return to the work that had first landed them in handcuffs.

Those who are in that deep never fully climb out of the hole, so it was more than likely he’d see them again in time.

And sure enough, some of their pictures scatter the chaotic table top of paper and files smeared everywhere, only he wasn’t expecting the obvious bullet hole in one of their foreheads. No question about how they were murdered, but the execution style of it certainly seemed personal. Did she know whoever held that gun?

You hadn’t been close, but you had been friendly enough with her during the rare times he would see you in a group back when he went by another name.

He knew all about her before even shaking her hand. She was young and naïve, lured into the illegal art trade business by the prospect of good money and no debt… much like yourself. She was talented, smart, an Ivy League dropout once she couldn’t climb atop of those heightening tuition fees.

He sees the reflection of you in her, all that wasted potential.

Could this have been you?

The images assault him before he even knows what’s happening. You laying there on that cold stainless steel autopsy table; you laying there with that gruesome hole right in the middle of your forehead; you with no family to pick your body up from the morgue.

It’s gut wrenching. He feels sick.

The photo drops from his fingers and he clenches his fist, heaving a long sigh of exhaustion and letting his body slump tiredly back into the chair. Other agents around the table mirror his position and energy, and with that, he finally decides to call it.

“Go home, guys,” he instructs, cutting through the silence and the shuffle of paper, “get a good night's rest and we’ll look over it with fresh eyes in the morning.”

There’s a sigh of relief that runs through the room, and no one wastes any time. They leave with various farewells and soon it’s just him and Wilson in silence. The man hasn’t moved much except from standing and fiddling with his folded jacket that had been previously hung over the back of his chair and Marcus waits, lifting an eyebrow in interest to urge the man to speak.

“Am I needed here tomorrow, sir? What about Picasso?”

A brief smile tugs at Marcus’ lips at the nickname.

“Yeah, we need you here. I’ll send her a text and let her know not to expect you.”

The other agent shifts on his feet, almost like he wants to object, but eventually he gives a nod and slinks out of the room with a quiet goodnight. Marcus watches the door close and briefly wonders if you’d spoken to Wilson about your shared history.

It would explain the sudden coolness he was getting from the young man, when in the beginning it was nothing but excitement and gratitude at being hired.

Marcus doesn’t mind—you need a friend, and Wilson is definitely a good guy. Besides, he deserves every bit of icy judgement from his previous choices.

He slides his cell from his pocket and types a simple text telling you not to bother preparing for tomorrow because Wilson would be in the office, hoping the alert of his message wouldn’t disturb you in your sleep and sends it without another thought before standing and starting to gather the loose documents spread out. He’s surprised when a notification sings out not even a minute later.

Is everything okay?

Eyeing the late hour at the top of his screen, he frowns at your pixelated words and replies quickly—

Everything’s fine—just lots of things to do. Did I wake you?

No, I was awake. I can’t sleep.

And you can’t. You’ve tried. You’ve tossed and turned and fluffed your pillow, kicked off your socks, put your socks back on, flicked a blanket off, wrapped yourself back up… and still nothing. You couldn’t get comfortable, you couldn’t still your mind long enough to let dreams take over.

Marcus feels his brows narrow at your words, and concern starts to creep into his system. Are you rattled about today? Do you have whatever Jane said to you playing on repeat in your mind? He starts to type his response, pausing when he starts to feel like he’s crossing some kind of line.

He reads the words over and over, wondering if he should just leave it and say goodnight. There’s an urge to talk to you, a want to hear your tired voice seep into his ears and maybe just pretend for a minute or two that everything didn’t fall to shit between you.

Do you mind if I call you?

You frown, thumb hovering over the screen as you deliberate an answer. This won’t help you sleep. If anything, it would only stir your thoughts up even more.

Yes. Yes, you do mind.

You don’t even want him to have your number, let alone to start calling in the middle of the night. No, he absolutely can’t call you, so why can’t you get your thumb to type out that three letter word to get him off your back?

Marcus holds his breath, waiting for the inevitable denial. He wouldn’t blame you. Of course not, but he still has that small flutter of hope tightening his stomach. It was always there, always waiting.

I don’t mind.

The message is delivered and received almost immediately and you miss the chance to take it back. You appreciate that he asked, though. That’s a good thing, right? He was giving you a chance to lay a boundary, and you believed he would’ve respected it should you have said you did mind.

You don’t bother with a hello when the phone eventually starts to vibrate in your hold and instead just lift it to your ear, wondering when your heart started beating so fast, when your throat got so damn dry.

“Sorry,” he breathes, the sound of shuffling and movement crackling down the line behind his voice, “I’m not much of a texter.”

“I know,” you reply quietly, huddling deeper under your comforter and tucking it beneath your chin.

Alex didn’t like texting, either.

Neither of you make another comment about it.

“I hope you’re not still thinking about earlier,” he says, and you imagine the hand that would rake through his hair as he busies about on his side.

Is he still at the office? That’s a late night. How much work is there to do? Do cases usually take this long?

“I’m not.”

And that’s the truth.

You stopped placing the blame on yourself once you made a few comments to Jacob in the car. Talking with Marcus helped, but Jacob calling you an idiot and saying it wasn’t your damn finger that pulled the trigger eliminated any remaining doubt. You didn’t hurt anyone, and even if your piece did have a mistake that alerted them to the authenticity of the piece, they made the choice to hurt others instead of just running.

“Have… have many people died during this case?” You ask carefully, before rushing to reassure him, “It’s okay if you can’t tell me. I get the whole classified thing.”

He snorts quietly, and your mind paints the picture of that pretty smile, those small dimples creasing his cheeks before you can help it.

“‘Classified’? We’re not running Area 51. The details of the case aren’t out there, but the murders are hardly a secret, you just don’t watch the news.”

“I watch the news,” you defend, knowing it’s an absolute lie.

You hate the news, you hate the constant drum of negativity and lies, you hate the motives behind it and how easily it can sway one’s mind.

Marcus chuckles softly, “You hate the news.”

Your cheeks start to ache, and it’s only then you find you’re smiling. It drops from your lips the second you realise and you shift under the blankets, a small frown starting to deepen between your brows.

“Well, maybe I don’t now. It’s been a long time since you knew me—I’ve changed a lot since then.”

He’s quiet, almost thoughtful, and then, “Have you? No more orange juice out of martini glasses?”

You can’t help it.

A huff of amusement breaks free from your lips and you’re smiling again.

You blame it on exhaustion, on stress, on anything that’s not him. It’s too nice, it’s too familiar. You don’t want to cross into these waters. You want to keep the space between you, barely talking and staying far, far away from each other until you can live your life with him nowhere near. You want to be free of him.

“Yeah well, my martini glasses got taken with the rest of my stuff when I went to jail so I can’t do that anymore.”

The slight tinge of iciness to your tone does well to kill the light hearted mood slowly creeping over the conversation and you’re almost glad for it. Almost.

A small part of you wilts from the warmth leaving your system, the walls steadily building higher and higher. You shouldn’t feel bad, and yet that feeling stirs to life in the pit of your stomach.

No, he deserves worse.

You push those tiny feelings away, burying them as deep as possible in some hidden part of you until their ache couldn’t be felt anymore. You couldn’t allow yourself to lower the walls you had built because of him. He doesn’t deserve to know you as you are now, slowly healing and on a journey to find peace.

He clears his throat softly and the gentle sound of it crackles in your ear.

“Right. Look, about that… I just…” a sigh, “I’m—”

Don’t say it.

Please don’t say it.

You don’t want to hear it. It doesn’t mean anything anymore. An apology will never, could never, make up for any of it. He could say it a thousand times, again and again, and it will never fix it. The devastation left in his wake had been violent and cutting, and the scars left from it would never heal fully. It was just something you’d have to live with. It was all a part of you now, whether you wanted it to be or not.

He sighs again, and another moment of silence passes.

“I’ll let you get some sleep. I’ll let you know when Wilson will be back, okay?”

“Okay,” you breathe, eyes following the dark lines of your bedroom furniture and the print framed on your wall.

A few more minutes pass and neither of you say anything, almost as if you’re both waiting for something else, something more. You don’t know what it is, and don’t care to find out, so you exhale softly and tuck yourself further in your bedding.

“Goodnight, Marcus.”

“Goodnight.”

—

This is dangerous.

It’s not good, it’s not professional, and yet, he just can’t fucking help himself. It all feels so normal, so natural. He wants it all the time desperately.

If only things had been different, if only he could’ve met you under different circumstances, where he didn’t have to hide behind a fake name and bullshit backstory. If only things didn’t have to be this way, maybe you two would stand a chance.

If only.

He’d soak it up while things felt somewhat normal. In the safety of your home, he can let his guard down a little. He can pretend. He can play the doting boyfriend madly in love to perfection, because that’s all he wants. For as long as he can remember, that’s all he’s ever wanted. Someone to be his, someone to call him theirs, and here, he has it.

He has it all with you.

His head tilts as he watches you from where he reclines into your kitchen counter, a smile slowly tugging at his lips as you sway to the music falling from the speakers.

“Why a martini glass?” He asks curiously, holding the stem of his own glass and swirling the bright yellow liquid within it.

You’re full of wonderful little surprises and quirks, and he takes them all in eagerly. He wants to know you, he wants to see the very core of you. He’ll soak in it all for as long as he can, ensuring to remember each and every thing about you.

The guilt lingers though, as it always does. It pushes through the warmth filling his system, bitter and unrelenting in its reminder of what he’s doing, what he’s already done. He used to think he was a decent person, good and true and fighting the good fight, but after this? No, he’ll never think like that again.

You’re the undoing to his entire being, and he both adores and resents it.

You grin, spinning away from the stove and sipping at the cold orange juice from the glass set beside you. “The question is—why not?”

He chuckles, giving a slow nod. “A fair point. Very fancy glassware for a simple breakfast.”

“Life is too short to keep fancy glassware in a cupboard—I’ve got to enjoy it all while I can!”

The self loathing triples.

God, you have no idea.

—

“Absolutely not.”

He’s adamant.

He doesn’t care how stubborn he seems, how defensive he must look standing at the head of the conference table with his arms crossed tightly across his chest. He doesn’t care. He doesn’t care that Jane’s eyeing him up with a new spark of curiosity, he doesn’t care that some of his agents look at him with a mix of confusion and others with understanding.

He doesn’t fucking care.

“She’d know a lot,” Jane says finally, unbothered, “given her history. I’m sure she’d be able to assist in further identifying some potential suspects, maybe even fi—”

“Her ‘history’?” Marcus snarls quietly, glare landing on the consultant. “Her ‘history’ has nothing to do with this investigation, and she’s to be left completely out of it, Jane.”

The man smiles, and it makes Marcus’ skin crawl.

How does he know about your history? How does he fucking know? How does he know who you are, what you are? Have they been digging information up on you?

There’s not a lot to be found seeing as Marcus ensured to have your name left out of case files and merely left as an anonymous source in court documents.

Your own arrest and court files had been buried, along with most of your case details struck with a thick permanent black mark, unidentifiable to anyone reading over in the future, so what does he know?

Jane eventually yields with his hands playfully held up in surrender, and lets the subject of you drop. He wants you out there, walking the path of your other life to start asking questions about the murders and the thefts. Does he not realise how much danger that would put you in? You couldn’t simply just reappear one day and start asking about things you should know nothing about.

Marcus feels anger simmer under his skin.

The debriefing continues with no further mention of you. There’s more talk of the murders, more talk of which painting they’ll go after next and details ironed out in careful preparation, but still, Marcus can’t shake the thought in his head that maybe Jane was right.

He couldn’t entertain that thought, though.

The mere idea of you landing yourself back in with the wrong people after going through so much pain and healing, the image of you potentially getting hurt and, god forbid, killed… it set him on edge. It turns his stomach. It’s too much risk, and he doesn’t feel comfortable putting you in that position, especially after ensuring you that you wouldn’t be in any danger at any point during this case.

He wouldn’t lie to you.

Not again.

That was a silent vow he made to you and strictly to himself. Never again. Going forward, you’d only hear the truth fall from his lips and that’s that. No more lies, no more going behind your back—none of it.

It’s most definitely too little, too late, but still. He refuses to do it anymore.

He goes to the comfort of his office after the debriefing, intent on closing the door firmly behind him to have a minute of peace to gather his thoughts and emotions, but the body that had been tailing him from the conference room fills his door frame and he lets them in without a word, closing the door immediately after.

“Look, I don’t like the guy, but he has a point, sir,” Wilson says as he stands in the middle of the room, hands diving into his pockets, “and I know she’d want to help more if she could. She feels pretty useless just stuck in that room all day, even if she does enjoy the art.”

He’s shaking his head before his co-worker can even finish, striding across the office and taking a seat in his desk chair. His elbows meet the arms of it and he slouches in the seat, fingers rubbing at the bridge of his nose to will away the headache threatening to grow in his temples.

“It’s out of the question.”

“Look, sir, I get it. I get that you wouldn’t want to put her back in this shit—believe me, I don’t want her to be either, but don’t you think that’s a decision she should make herself? She’s stronger than you think, and she didn’t get a lot of choice the first time ‘round.”

So he does know.

Marcus heaves a quiet sigh, looking up at the younger agent and studying his features.

There’s a swirl of worry swimming in the green eyes gazing levelly back at him, and it’s what Marcus focuses on most. It was easy to see the connection you and Wilson had made within the month you two had spent together, so that makes sense to be concerned for your welfare, but is there more to it?

It’s not his business, but he can’t help the train of thought once it’s on the tracks. Does what you share with Wilson go deeper than what it appears to be? Is there something growing between you both? Is it mere friendship, or romantic?

Fuck.

Do you like the guy?

He swallows, eyes flicking away from the admittedly good looking, much younger agent as the hideous feeling of jealousy starts to sting at his system. He has no right, no right whatsoever, to feel this way, and a part of him understands that, but once that horrid green little seed plants itself in his heart, he starts to feel the familiar wash of inferiority.

Not that he stands a chance with you now anyway—he set fire to that bridge long ago, but still… it was that damn shred of hope in the centre of everything. God, now is not the time for this.

He pushes it all away, returning to the calm and cool headed agent he’s had to force himself to be lately. It’s usually not such a struggle to be confident with his experience and skills in this position, but you made it highly difficult by being a part of this investigation.

As much as he’s enjoyed seeing and talking to you again, despite how icy and indifferent you’ve been acting towards him, he’ll be glad to see the last of you once this is all wrapped up.

“I’ll talk to her about it,” Marcus finally relents, unsure of if he's making the right choice.

He’ll just have to ensure nothing bad will come of this, that you’ll be safe and remain unharmed because, god knows, his heart wouldn’t be able to take that.

tags: @maievdenoir, @javier-pena, @lv7867, @dihra-vesa, @katronautt, @radiowallet, @januarystears, @missminkylove, @beskarprincessjenny, @mswarriorbabe80, @danidrabbles, @amneris21, @eri16, @absurdthirst, @hnt-escape, @acourtofsnakes, @ezrasbirdie, @mstgsmy66, @lovesbiggerthanpride, @coaaster, @sherala007, @greeneyedblondie44, @wyn-n-tonic, @you-got-me-starry-eyed, @shirks-all-responsibilities, @withasideofmeg, @harriedandharassed, @andruxx, @buckybarneshairpullingkink, @spideysimpossiblegirl, @prostitute-robot-from-the-future, @tanzthompson, @mad-girl-without-a-box, @hope-for-the-best-98, @fangirl-316, @christina-loves, @jediknight122, @hallway5, @xoxabs88xox, @nicolethered, @churchill356, @massivecolorspygiant, @just-here-for-the-moment, @gracie7209, @pinkie289, @lavenderluna10, @goodgriefitsawildworld

#marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x f!reader #marcus pike x you #marcus pike #pedro pascal x reader #the mentalist fic

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surshica · 1 year

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NINTENDO SWITCH !

TWENTY-FIVE : fucking finally

masterlist <3

A/N : thank you for supporting this series everyone! it truly has been such a great experience—the feedback everyone has given me for the story made me so happy:( please do check out the new series of mine “she knows” and “glamorous”

borders will indicate when it’s time to read the written portion!! + please excuse anything grammatically incorrect and any typos !!

﹙ᴗ﹏ᴗ﹚･｡ ⁺ ✦

a wave if nervousness was not what you needed at the moment. he told you to get ready and you didnt know if you should wear a skirt or heck even a dress. the weather was nice out so you pulled out a cream white cottagecore dress that had been stored in your closet for some time.

the ends of your hair were curled slightly—half up half down how you liked it. a light makeup was what was decided on since you didn’t want to do too much but again it was for chishiya, putting in some ankle pink socks and your mary janes you gave yourself a small twirl near the mirror; a smile was imposed on your lips.

“you are in a good mood.” a sweet rasped voice echoed from your room, turning your head you saw chishiya. “yeah..there is something about you asking out on a date that makes me in a good mood” you laughed walking near the hands in pocket man. he took one of his hands out his pocket holding it out for yours; he was never one to be very affectionate through words but rather through actions

your smile grew wider, taking his hand as he stuffed both yours and his in his pocket; this was his way of saying you looked beautiful. he stared at you for a few minutes in awe. the way your bangs curled around your face, the way the glosses your lips, the way the dress made you look like a princess—made him even more in love with you.

“ready to go?” he asked placing a kiss on the crown of your head, giving him a simple nodded was all that was needed. “alright. lets go then.” he started walking towards the door to leave the dorm, his hands still intertwined with his. the grip around it tightened slightly.

“mira we are leaving!!” chishiya spoke loudly so mira whom was doing her skin care could hear. “OKAY MAKE SURE SHE IS BACK BY 12 AM SHUNTARO. DONT HURT HER FUCKING FEELINGS OR YOU CAN KISS THAT DICK OF YOURS GOODBYE.” mira warned earning a slightly giggle from chishiya. “yeah yeah whatever” he said before opening the door for the both of you to leave.

﹙ᴗ﹏ᴗ﹚･｡ ⁺ ✦

usually you could just walk around to the nearest destination in japan but you ended up in a car being a passenger princess. not that you mind it was kinda cute. chishiya was the driver for today, you would’ve fully expected him to let go of your hand so he could drive but NO.

he is driving with one hand while the other was wrapped in the warmth of yours. it made you blush slightly at the sight of chishiya driving with one hand, “where are we going?” you questioned staring at his features—it was very relaxed and it made him have an even softer look. “well you wanted that pochacco plushie correct?” he looked over at you quickly before looking back to the road, you nodded. “well we are going to go get that plushie.”

your eyes widened slightly, “i can always get that plushie a different day I DONT THINK THAT IS IMPORTANT.” you tightened the grip between yours and his hands, he simply shook his head “it is very important since you wanted it.” his tone was stern yet it was a soft stern; it threw you off guard, sighing knowing you couldnt win sn agrument with him. “i’ll pay you back.” you huffed

he chuckled with a small grin appearing on his lips, he pulled your intertwined hands to his lips; placing a small kiss on your hand leaving his lips on your hand for a while before resting it back onto your lap. “no need too you already have.” those words leaving his mouth made you blush, all the little things he says or does is enough for you to melt like chocolate.

you hadn’t realized how much time passed until he pulled up into a buildings parking lot. turning off the car he hesitatingly pulled his hands away from your warm ones, unbuckling his seatbelt; “ready to go look for that plushie?” he smiled at you. bitting your lip you nodded getting out the car.

he walked over to your side grabbing back onto your hand. it was like you were a little kid again getting a toy afterschool, no words were exchanged but you led chishiya to the place where the pochacco plushie was being sold. as soon as you two arrived there, it was gone. someone took the last one in front of you two.

a frown had graced your lips, “ah..maybe next time” you made your voice cheery so you wouldnt worry him but chishiya saw right through you. unlinking his hands from yours he smiled at you slightly, “im going to go to the bathroom i’ll be back.” he lied before walking off. the real truth chishiya had gone as far as to hunting someone who had the plushie and bargain for it.

you sighed wondering around the store trying to see if there could be another pochacco plushie bug there wasnt, it was just pins that you already had. closing your eyes exhaling deeply, some time passed at you were yet to find chishiya. well its been like 5 minutes but those were the longest 5 minutes of your life. a gentle tap was felt on your shoulder turning around to see chishiya with the pochacco plushie?

“chishiya..how’d you get it?” you placed your hands on the big pochacco plush, “well someone had put it back on the shelf near the bathroom and i grabbed it.” he lied, he didnt want her to know the full truth of him bargaining someone damn near $50 dollars for it.

“this is the one correct?” he asked fluffing it up even though it was in a plastic wrapping. you nodded frantically, “alright lets go pay for this then!” he smirked walking over to go pay. “i can pay for it chishiya its no problem” you tried to reassure him but he just turned it down. “how about i save it for another time” the smirk grew evident as he walked away to the open register paying for it.

“i seriously do not know what is going through your mind sometimes chishi.” you sighed as he handed you for the paid for plushie. “good, that means you dont know what could happen next” he snaked his arm around your waist catching you surpised. his cold cat eyes were soft and loving whenever he looked at you it made you feel so warm and fluffy.

“is there anything else you want from the mall?” he asker you, you made a thinking face trying to see if you needed anything but you ended up just shaking your head. “well then there is somewhere else i want to take you.” he said walking back to the car, “should i dressed nicer? i feel spoiled.” your lips formed a thin a line looking at him. he shook his head “you look perfect. no need to dress nicer.”

﹙ᴗ﹏ᴗ﹚･｡ ⁺ ✦

and back in the car the two of you were, pochacco in the back, hands intertwined together. if the two of you weren’t cuddling your hands were. the ride seemed to be longer, but gradually the view got nicer and nicer; causing you to suspicious.

“you know if this doesnt work out im going to be embarrassed.” he chuckled causing you to look at him confused. “im sure whatever you do will work out” you smiled at him, “yeah im sure too.”

the two had arrived at the destination and it was beautiful. there was hardly anyone here, it was perfect. you quickly got out of the car to get a better view, breathtaking. chishiya chuckled popping the trunk of the car open to get a full picnic basket and a blanket closing it after he got all he needed he headed over to the breathe-taken yn.

“do you like it?” he stood near the starry eyed girl, “thats such a stupid question. i fucking love it here.” her lips were agaped shoulders comfortably dropped to the side, he let out a laugh. it was a genuine one—“well come on. we dont have all day do we?” he started walking to an open spot that wes close to the pond, that was when you realized he had a basket and a blanket in his hands.

following from behind, you had your hands behind your back a smile like grin was formed on your lips, “a picnic? the chishiya doing a picnic?” you teased him as he set down the blanket, taking off his shoes sitting down on it. “hmm would you like a karaoke date instead?” he jokingly snarked back, a smile grew wider on your face before taking your shoes sitting across from him.

“no this is perfect” a soft kiss was placed on his cheek, you watched as he took out various dishes from the basket; from drinks to sandwhiches to cute desserts, “wait did usagi make these desserts?” you pointed at the bento strawberry shortcake that was decorated cutely. “how’d you know” he chuckled lightly looking at you. “i dont know lucky guess maybe..” your smile widened looking at all the food.

he handed you one of the sandwiches that was packed with fresh veggies and cooked meat, the aroma of the sandwich had a sweet yet tangy scent to it. taking a bite out of it was heavenly, covering your mouth “delicious..” you mumbled causing chishiya to laugh at you. he had taken a bite out of his sandwich but really he was watching you enjoy the food.

small convos of different topics kept you and chishiya busy in your own worlds, you had completely forgotten a about the cake usagi made the two of you. “omg wait, we should eat the cake!” you exclaimed happily, chishiya nodded taking out spoons for the cake—he scooped a piece of the cake. yn opened her mouth slightly wanting that piece, chishiya put it close to her mouth turning it around last minute eating the cake.

a grin formed on his lips causing yn to huff at him, “WOWWWW. okay i see how it is.” yn rolled her eyes jokingly, “okay okay here” chishiya got another scoop if the cake feeding it to her. “thats yummy..” she smiled brightly. the two ended up eating all the cake with some frosting smudging on the their faces.

“you have a little something near your lip” he said cupping your face with one of his hands while the other sipped off the frosting with his thumb. yours and his face were so close to eachothers, a sly smirk. he placed a kiss your cupids brow, pulling away quickly before you can react, a wave of peach red blush washed across your face.

“youre such a tease” you said covering your face in embarrassment; his grin only grew wider looking at the blushing girl. “does this come by a surpise?” he said snaking his hand over to hers holding it. “it shouldn’t.”

“you know yn. im not really good at expressing my feelings..” chishiya looked you dead in the eyes not breaking contact once, you slowly nodded. “i kinda regret that ive not been the best with my feelings.” he laughed pulling out a white and blue rose crochet bouquet, “but i finally realized something~” chishiya was nervous even if he still had the poker faced expression—“what im trying to say is i love you.” he said handing you the bouquet of crochet flowers.

a flush of blush was all across your face, “..god im not good at this whole confession but what im trying to say—” chishiya got cut off by yn hugging him tightly. “shut up and my answer is yes.” yn giggled pressing her lips againts his; a smile formed on his lips. his arms wrapped around her waist pulling her ontop of him.

“i shouldn’t of made you wait this long, im surpised you didnt move on” chishiya laughed breaking off the kiss. “i had a feeling it would happen soon. im glad i decided to wait.” yn smiled pulling him back into a kiss.

﹙ᴗ﹏ᴗ﹚･｡ ⁺ ✦

THE END.

tags !!

pink doesnt work

@crinklypink @flrtsbin @4pparecium @afckingswiftiebtch @em-asian @saiewithakatana @minyoungieee @eternal-gf @kimtaehussy @theinfaethablefig @elakari @too-many-fandoms666 @lastheavcns @pyrrhicgaze @andreeasancheez @hadesdaughtwr @Iserluver @urgodmoon @nmsl0v3r @lowilaufeyson @dee-dino-man @chiishiiya @444neapolitain @wroophruh @vensworld @starsval @dr3amscap3 @kuinaheartz @bre99 @cheshireshiya @eissaaaa @sollum @conny1111 @luvelyxp @shinobuily @gelliyo @fanfangying1304 @ikon-teen @stay-moa-army @bbyjackie @naegisimp @midlystupid @yvrikoo @chepoyo @luv4kuina @vernon-dursley @itadorim @vseqvt @shigamiryuk @wonswoorld @elisiumnie @abyloxk @asoullessentity @seventeensstrawberry @cupidsaster @bubblycloudy

#chishiya x reader #aib chishiya #alice in boderland x reader #chishiya shuntaro #chishiya headcanons #chishiya fluff #chishiya imagine #chishiya fanfic #chishiya x fem!reader #꒰ა 🎧 ─ nintendo switch : .. ꒱#- surshica ♥︎

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missjadesfics · 16 days

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Happy Valentine's, Mr Sandman

Morpheus x Reader dividers: @cafekitsune Request: Yes Summary: Y/n and Morpheus spend their first Valentine's together. Warnings: none; Morpheus just being cute Word Count: 1k Disclaimer: I don't own The Sandman or its characters, nor do I claim them as my own. Comments, likes, and reblogs are always appreciated xx

Morpheus had never made time for such an event that the mortals called Valentine’s Day. But in recent year he retrieved his helm and sand and restored the Dreaming. He felt that his affairs were in order; everything was where it should be. He visited the Waking world, strolling down the cobblestone path, his silver eyes wandering amongst the happy faces of adults and children. A slight tug appeared on the corner of his lips, seeing a little boy jump up and down at getting a lollipop from his mother. Morpheus tucked his hands into his coat pockets before stopping at a flower stand. He admired the various colours and arrangements of bouquets. He smiled, noticing some particular flowers; the vendor walked over with a smile. “Hello, how can I help you?” He asked Morpheus, who was admiring the flowers, “Yes, my friend, I am hoping to acquire some of your flowers for my beloved. You wouldn’t happen to have some wisteria, would you?” Morpheus asked curiously. The vendor clicked his fingers.

“I do happen to have some; I like to always have some on hand in case someone wants to add them to their bouquet” he knelt, grabbing a small crate filled with vibrant purple wisteria. Nodding in approval, Morpheus smiled. “I would like some along with others if you could make me something,” Morpheus said; the vendor nodded enthusiastically. “Of course. Are there any other favourites?” Morpheus’s eyes gazed around; he pointed out the other favourites as the vendor put them together, tying them with a ribbon. Delicately placing them in a decorative basket, Morpheus thanked the vendor and paid him before continuing his walk down the street. Morpheus found a chocolate stand and bought some specialty chocolates.

Looking at Big Ben, he wondered what the time was. “Excuse me, do you have the time?” He asked a gentleman passing by, “Eleven fifteen” Morpheus thanked him. He still had fifteen minutes, plenty of time to get where he needed to go. Picking up his pace, he came to his destination; he sighed, knocking on the door as he waited on the front steps. A girl opened the door. She had a big smile on her face “Steve-oh Morpheus, hi”, She laughed. Morpheus nodded his head. “Hello Jane, I was hoping Y/n was here?” He asked; hopefully, Jane nodded and moved aside. “She is so lucky and right in the living room. Y/n, your man is here!” Jane shouted as she waved goodbye to Morpheus, walking out the door, most likely to find Steve, her boyfriend.

Morpheus poked his head with a grin forming on his lips Y/n jumped up from the couch. “Morpheus! I thought you couldn’t make it,” Y/n gasped. Morpheus frowned. “If Lucinene can’t manage the Dreaming for at least one day for me. Then that is an issue.” He smiled, making Y/n’s heart flutter with his words. “And how could I not want to spend the day with you?” He handed her the flowers and chocolates Y/n and touched her mouth. “Oh, Morpheus, they are beautiful. Wisteria!? Where did you find this?” She admired the flowers. Morpheus smirked with a wink as he looked at the flowers, his fingers touching the petals gingerly. “I have my ways”, he murmured with a raised brow Y/n put the flowers in a vase with water and put them on the counter, sitting beside the chocolates. She wrapped her arms around Morpheus, hugging him tightly. “Thank you, I love them”, she kissed his cheek and clapped her hands. “I also have something for you.” She grabbed a small wrapped gift and put it in Morpheus’s hands with a cheeky smile.

Morpheus looked at it strangely and shook it; he grinned, making Y/n laugh. “Open it, you” She bit her lip anxiously, waiting as Morpheus unwrapped the gift, his eyes softened at the present. He looked up at Y/n, his lips parted, pulling out the small ruby stone. “I understand your other ruby was destroyed when you and that incident you don’t like to tell me about. My father recently returned from a business trip and came across this beautiful gem. I asked him to buy it for me so I could give it to you. Do you like it?” She asked nervously. Morpheus felt his heart skip a beat, putting the gemstone back in the box, and he nodded. “I do; I love it, thank you, my darling” He kissed her head and sighed. “I do have one more gift for you. Close your eyes,” He whispered Y/n did as he asked and closed her eyes. Morpheus pulled a ring out of his pocket and fell on one knee. “Can I open my eyes now, Morpheus?” Morpheus chuckled and spoke softly, “Yes” Y/n’s eyes fluttered open, and looking down, her eyes widened.

Morpheus cleared his throat. “Y/n, you know that I, as an Endless, have lived a thousand lifetimes. I have seen love grow and fall through time, and I have never felt the way I have with anyone as I do with you. I have seen your dreams and nightmares. I want to share every moment with you, the highs and the lows. I want you, all of you. My love, any kingdom can have a King, but a King is nothing without his Queen. The most important chess piece, the light of his life. The centre of his heart and affections. So, would you do me the honour of marrying me?”

Morpheus breathed a smile gracing his face Y/n felt tears in her eyes as she nodded. “Yes, Morpheus, oh my goodness, yes” “ she gasped. Morpheus slid the moonstone ring onto her finger, standing on his feet. “It’s so…beautiful, Morpheus” She gazed at the ring. Morpheus smiled. “It came from the Dreaming. Therefore, its connection with you will forever be bonded. And your connection with me comes within our hearts and souls. Wherever I am, near or far, I’ll always be there for you. A King’s duty is to his Queen; her heart and happiness come first. I will always make sure of it,” He whispered, his silver eyes staring into Y/n’s eyes. “I love you, Y/n, forever and always” Morpheus raked his fingers through her hair, and Y/n smiled. “I love you too, Dream of the Endless. Forever and always.” She brushed her nose with his as his lips softly pressed to hers, her arms wrapped around his neck. Pulling apart for air, Morpheus pressed his head to Y/n’s gently, looking into one another’s eyes.

“Happy Valentine’s, Mr Sandman” Y/n laughed lightly. Morpheus chuckled, shaking his head at her comment. His head tilted back, his eyes cast down as he raised a brow, humming lightly before murmuring, “Happy Valentine’s indeed.”

#fluff #morpheus #morpheus x reader #the sandman #tom sturridge #dream of the endless #dream of the endless x reader #missjadesfics #my fic #request #requests open

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writing-yarn-goblin · 1 month

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GUESS WHAT, B*TCHES!

I’m baaaaaack!~

It’s March and I post whatever I fuckin’ want! Oh yeah, it’s a songfic!

Character: Sir Crocodile (a little bit of Katakuri Charlotte, but just a smidge)

Relationship: slight KatakurixXReader but also catching Sir Crocodile’s eye (and more)

Song: Sweet by Unlike Pluto

Warnings: forced marriage, drug mention, alcohol, Crocodile being himself

~*~

“Introducing for one night only! The beauty that pounds whiskey like a sailor and sings like an angel: (Y/N) (L/N)!”

You heard the crowd go wild.

The sigh that escaped your lips as you took a long drag of the almond-vanilla flavored cigar that was currently in between your gloved hands as you made your way to the stage.

The sway of your hips, the tight knee-high black dress with a sweetheart collar hugging your curves lusciously as your hair was kept messy, framing your face and to finish the look- a pair of Mary Jane kitten heel shoes.

Your lips were dark red but the rest of the make up was simple.

A little powder, cat-eye liner and blush.

A wink could decimate nations, said your fiancé once.

The lights on the stage were on you as the white fur coat you were wearing slid from your shoulders to your elbows as you gently gripped the microphone’s stand as your lips opened to do their thing.

“My baby and I like new silky sheets every night.

He buys me bourb' and whiskey neat,

And keeps on comin' every week…”

Your stare could only focus on the table were your lug of a fiancé was.

Charlotte Katakuri.

He seemed bored with his surroundings. Not really his scene but he had to keep up appearances as head of this town’s sweets factory. His mother made sure to pop out enough children to make an infuriatingly huge monopoly of different businesses just so she could have absolute control of most markets.

“Ooh, he wants the suburbs

When school's out for summer

And we live by his mother

I keep my drugs in the cupboard 'cause”

You could only look at him with a little spite.

“I'm only sweet when I'm high…”

You noticed that the normally serious face he wore suddenly made a move, his lips twitched downwards as he downed his LIT, completely in one gulp.

This finally got him.

He looked down at his drink as you kept singing your song, almost like if he was contemplating how guilty he felt to just have picked you from a line of potential wives his mother gave him and he just picked you.

Little, wild you.

You, whom he thought would be gracious enough to accept a marriage proposal out of the goodness of your heart.

‘What a shame’ he thought. ‘I thought this recent flight of fancy would keep her calm’ he argued with his head.

He didn’t noticed that he wasn’t the only one staring at the beauty with a savvy mouth.

He wasn’t the only magnate in this town.

“In class, I learned to lie

To pretty boys, to pass the time…”

She stared at him as she sang this particular verse.

How many times has she lied to him just to get him off her back?

How many times did she pretend to be okay in front of him?

How many times did her whispered words meant what they preached while he was in the passionate throes of sex?

He had it.

He stood up from his table and grabbed his coat, leaving on the table a shiny object with a scarp of paper that said “goodbye”.

He didn’t notice on his way out the door of the glare that was directed to him from the bar. Cigar smoke filtering out as he heard the man at the bar to bring the lady’s belongings to him, that he’d take care of her moving forward.

“'Cause I got that good shit, Alabastian pride.

Kiss the kids goodnight and take the Harley for a ride”

The man at the bar just grinned.

That seemed like Little Miss Sailor was in the market again.

Not that he had to do much.

She did it all her self in an act of defiance towards the softest yet most ruthless of the Charlotte’s. And she didn’t even get to the good part of this song.

The man at the bar was a tall man. Not as tall as Katakuri but still very tall. He had suffered the loss of a hand but that didn’t hinder him at all, he had prosthetics to make up for the loss of a limb, he just preferred the gold hook on his missing limb.

He saw how the lonely woman stared at the table bitterly, almost relieved that she didn’t have to talk to what he could firmly say was her boyfriend.

“Ooh, I get so bored, scrub the floors

Then get drunk while doing chores

Does he even know me…?”

He had enough of waiting.

“Waitress? I want that table.”

A woman like that deserved to be looked upon closely.

“Ooh, I'm never sure when he'll be home

Get into trouble on my own

I don't get lonely…”

You were still singing your little heart out as you batted your eyes to shake some of the tears. Katakuri wasn’t a bad man, but you would’ve rather to pick your own groom and wed because you wanted to.

Not because your own family wanted to have financial relief in these trying times.

Such was the life of the eldest daughter.

But no matter, you could firmly say that your groom-to-be was no longer in the horizon as he left with a disappointed frown.

“I’m only sweet when I’m high…”

You spoke the last verse, only to have the whole club erupt in howls and cheers.

With a bashful smile, you made your way behind the stage and down to the main floor.

You felt a little taken back when your things were on your usual table, but relieved when one of the waitresses directed you to your new table.

In the VIP section.

With your things.

You looked at how this dashing mystery man was taking a drag from his cigar and seemed to be pouring two glasses of champagne.

You had to be careful, however. This day and age, most men can and will do anything. But this man just massive and intimidating. The scar upon his face should’ve scared you but, you were used to men with…interesting features.

“Take a seat. We have a few things to converse about, Little desert flower.”

…to be continued?

#one piece #reader insert #x reader #i am unwell #fem reader #one piece fanfiction #songfic #crocodile x reader #sir crocodile #crocodile x you

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roguelov · 8 months

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Ok, idk if you've ever read Jane Austen but consider the following:

Morpheus and the Reader making THE WORST first impressions of each other but eventually falling in love when they realize that THEY WERE BOTH WRONG

Morpheus falling in love with the Reader who's this spirited, passionate, creative soul who's more open than he is.

The Reader having an active imagination that amuses Morpheus and he sometimes uses it to make her thoughts come to life

The Reader who has been by Morpheus' side since the beginning and has been secretly in love with him and endures seeing Morpheus in different romantic relationships. Only after he returns from his capture does he realise how much the Reader means to him

Morpheus and the Reader once having a relationship but they break up only to find each other again due to the Reader having a connection to one of his symbols of power (it would be the Ruby and they would be the 'Mother and Son' instead of John Dee and Ethel Cripps).

Reader being the only one to call Morpheus out on his 'high and mighty' bullcrap

These are all based on some tropes I've spotted in each of Jane Austen's books.

BONUS: Reader and Morpheus falling in love but the ghost of his past romantic relationships looms over them and Reader has to run away because she fears she may end up like the others (this one was inspired by Jane Eyre)

🌹

I AM EATING UP ALL OF THIS!!!!!!!!!

You gently turned over the ruby necklace.

It was his.

You knew it, you knew the moment you spotted it in an old market place. It drew you in, dare you say a moth to a flame.

You should return it, it was the proper thing to do. But, you couldn’t. You couldn’t say goodbye to it. Its warmth was a hug from him, it comforted you immensely. And most of all, you couldn’t step back into the Dreaming to even say hello. Despite the centuries together, despite him being your closest friend, he also broke your heart.

Or you broke his.

It was a mess. A heated breakup over something you couldn’t necessarily remember. Well, you suppose you sort of remembered why: pride, ego, secrecy, and guarded self.

You both thought you were ready for your relationship, but it was a lie. It was an awful rebound for each of you which only severed your once precious relationship and ripped it to tattered shreds.

You clutched the ruby to your chest. A rise of tears swelled up inside of you. Maybe you should just toss it out the window and forget it all. Maybe you should sell it. Or maybe you should hold if tighter and treasure it and all the wondrous happy memories.

“You could imagine my surprise to learn you have found my ruby.”

You whipped around. Dream stood in your room, and he was just a beautiful as you remembered him.

“Dream,” you whispered.

“Hello, my dear,” he spoke softly.

Your heart soared at his affectionate nickname for you. You quickly stood up. Your heart pounded in your chest. However, your initial excitement faltered. His ruby necklace dangled loosely in your hand.

Right. Of course.

You handed it over towards him, “Sorry, you are obviously here for this.”

Stepping closer, he gently pushed down your hand. “I was until I heard you had it.”

Your eyebrows furrowed together.

“I recently had some time to reflect,” he began. “And I wished to see you again.”

“What?” You breathed out.

“I want to invite you to the Dreaming, and I wish to discuss our prior … relationship.”

“Dream -“

“Please.” He stepped forward, invading your peace. He clasped your hands in his. His ruby necklace nearly clattered to the floor. “Just give me a few days time and come. We have much to discuss, and I have much to apologize for.”

He leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours. He inhaled deeply. He let his senses be consumed by you. How long had it been? Far, far too long.

You sighed, closing your eyes. He was Dream, but something was different about him. To be honest, your heart screamed yes the moment he asked. “Okay, I’ll be there.”

“Wonderful.” He took his ruby back, clutching it in his hand. He softly kissed your temple. “I will come for you, I promise my dear.”

“And I will wait.”

#the sandman #morpheus #dream of the endless #morpheus x reader #dream of the endless x reader #🌹 anon #ask

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simsstuph · 9 months

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Fig sat down beside Lili and held her hand, she opened her eyes slightly.

Fig smiled as he wiped the tears from his cheeks: Hi beautiful.

Lili grabbed his hand, her strength was barely there anymore: You don't look so well, my love.

Fig: Teenagers.

Lili let out the smallest, weakest little laugh: That'll do it.

Fig: You hungry? Thirsty?

Lili: No dear, I'm fine. Fig promise me you won't let them forget me? Remind them of me every chance possible? Especially Carli and Kodi Jane.. They're so young.. I'm scared they won't remember me..

Fig kissed her forehead repeatedly, tears streaming down his face: Never in a million years darlin.

FOUR DAYS LATER;

Lili passed peacefully surrounded by Fig, the kids and her beloved dog Turtle. Van ran from the room once the hospice nurse took her pulse and made the official announcement of "I'm so very sorry, please take as much time as you need to say goodbye."

After an hour and a half Fig walked over and put his hand on her shoulder: Kiddo, it's time..

Delilah whispering and she leaned down closer: This is not goodbye, it's a see you later mom. I'll love you forever.

She gently kissed her mother's forehead and left the room, Fig's arm around her shoulder.

#becomingdelilah #ts4 #thesims #sims #thesims4 #sims4 #ts4stories #sims4story

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fantasy-mixtapes · 1 month

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Gorgug Thistlespring Junior Year Playlist: Side A

Heres Gorgug's playlist! Literally the sweetest ever, deserves the world and more. Spoilers for Episodes 1-10

Genres Include: Alt Rock, Anti-Folk, Punk, Metal

1. Dashboard, Modest Mouse

Well, it would've been, could've been worse than you would ever know Oh, the dashboard melted but we still have the radio Oh, it should've been, could've been worse than you would ever know Well, you told me about nowhere Well, it sounds like someplace I'd like to go

Ok nothing made me laugh harder than the image of the Hangvan beat to shit and Gorgug still having to drive it back for two days straight. TWO DAYS STRAIGHT. Despicable. Deplorable. Hilarious.

2. The Best Ever Death Metal Band in Denton, Laura Jane Grace

When you punish a person for dreaming their dream Don't expect 'em to thank or forgive you The best ever death metal band out of Denton Will, in time, both outpace and outlive you Hail Satan, Hail Satan, tonight Hail Satan, hail, hail

This song is less of a 1 to 1 representation of Gorgug's situation and more like a song that, if he heard it at this specific time in his life, would utterly destroy him. I am really never gonna forgive Porter for the way he treated Gorgug, and as an educator, I never ever want to make anyone feel the way these fake people felt in their fake game. While this song is originally (and famously) by The Mountain Goats I really like the Laura Jane Grace cover. And I love it for Gorgug as a kind of wink to @rabdoidal 's transfem Gorgug hc, which is another thing I absolutely love.

3. Overbite, Sincere Engineer

Could have been a doctor if I really cared enough But I didn't have it in me I got distracted by a bunch of stuff I'm so stupid and empty My mind just wasn't in it And neither was my heart ... I'm not basing my intelligence on some fucking letters And now that it's over I did what I was told I had to do But I still feel just about as dumb as I used to I still feel just about as dumb as I used to

Gorgug Thistlespring took FOUR YEARS of classes. He did that. He did it and he fucking crit. He fucking got straight As on Artificer and didn't flunk Barbarian, which is basically a genius-level thing to do. Fuck Porter, and honestly? fuck Henry Hopclap for letting a 17-year-old do this to himself when he could have just confronted Porter himself LIKE HE WAS SUPPOSED TO LIKE AN ADULT

4. Dragged Across the Finish Line, Sincere Engineer

I'm not trying to win I'm just trying to finish I don't know when it ends But I'm counting the minutes And I'm counting on you Yeah, I'm counting on you I remember when I knew it 'cause I saw it in your eyes And I did what I had to, I dragged you across the finish line It would be so nice If you could do that for me this time

Is this the second song in a row by Sincere Engineer on this 6 song playlist? Yes, it is, and I am not apologizing for it because it's perfect. Also, Sincere Engineer sounds like a band name that Gorgug would think of because that's what he is. Also I really like the way this kind of makes a parallel to Gorgug helping his friends (it's gorgug keep going) and them helping him do well in his classes with studying and everything.

5. Terrifyer, AJJ

Then it got personal, I saw my rage I just wanted to rage, but all I got was tired I tried to walk to the building, but the beauty it brittled me I tried to talk to the waiter, but the beauty gentled me I ran away from the security guard Because security guards dishearten me I said goodbye to my dignity Said goodbye to my dignity

I know that the structure of an adventuring school is different than something in the real world, and if we were to apply the current utilitarian models of education towards a system that prioritizes people who freak out and fight stuff and not just people who can churn out content and do services, it would make sense that teachers in this system can freak out on students and that's like normal, but I'm gonna say the most lukewarm take ever and say it's fucked up that Porter kept bending the rules for Fig and didn't do fucking anything for Gorgug, just to say that it was to "make him embrace his rage"

Like if we're gonna prioritize class excellence, then Porter should have been more than happy to help Gorgug find a class in which he felt more comfortable, even if, at the end of the day, Porter thought Gorgug should ultimately drop Barbarian.

6. St. Anger, Metallica

And I want my anger to be healthy And I want my anger just for me And I need my anger not to control And I want my anger to be me And I need to set my anger free And I need to set my anger free And I need to set my anger free Set it free

I have mixed feelings about the way Gorgug finally got his MCAT signed, because, like - yes, anger and rage aren't necessarily bad, and while Gorgug initially was repressing his anger in season 1, I really think that isn't the case anymore. And yet we have Porter pushing rage so hard in the "corrupting rage" season.

I truly believe that anger can be a beautiful and natural thing, that it keeps you safe in certain situations, that it shows you when you are being mistreated and lets you advocate for yourself. And I think that that is a lesson that a lot of the bad kids need to learn, specifically Kristin, Riz, and even Adaine (with the transition to using a sword and also the whole deal with Adaine's furious fists). But Gorgug already learned that lesson. Sometimes you don't have to be angry????

#dimension 20 #fantasy high #fantasy high junior year #d20 #d20 fhsy #spotify #fantasy mixtapes #gorgug fantasy high #gorgug thistlespring #d20 spoilers #fhjy spoilers #Spotify

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saintgoths · 11 months

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ʟᴇᴡᴅ ᴍɪꜱꜱɪᴏɴꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ʟᴜꜱᴛꜰᴜʟ ᴅᴇꜱɪʀᴇꜱ

LEVI ACKERMAN X READER - LEWD MISSIONS AND LUSTFUL DESIRES [AOT AU]

[PART THREE TO THE REALM'S DIAMOND SERIES].

WORD COUNT - 3,433.

RATING - 18+. [slight SA not from love interests, kissing, fingering and F/M sex oh and levi being slightly submissive].

[she also has other pairings thus the hashtags but its mainly levi x reader]. comments, liking, following and reblogging would be appreciated!

SUMMARY - y/n has a mission to court the man she desires and she is wilful to complete it.

If someone from the future had told you that there would be a moment you’d drop into a mound of depression, you’d laugh at them and tell them that they are a liar. You were the happiest girl in the world, why? You had belonged to the wealthiest family in the du Aurous country, veritably, you’d be exaggerating if you had told them that you were the happiest girl, but, there had never been moments when you had felt the dreary slate of emotions you had felt currently.

Currently, you had been pampered and readied by your ladies, you already knew you were treated like a doll by them, usually by your marionette and model looks and your pin-up body and your curly and fluffy-hair, yet, this time, you had felt like you were a rag-doll.

Today you were going out for a walk, you were meeting up with an individual from the Sinclair family, their family were coming over for dinner and were a very admirable lot. They lived over at an island called the Sinclair Port, a good trading area and was also known for its fort.

During the First Great War, the Sinclair Port had given soldiers from Oscaar and du Aurous a place to camp and rest. Thus, today you’d be given the pleasure to be around Lady Jane Sinclair, you shared the same age and you had thought her to be very kind and beautiful.

One of your ladies, Mary, had placed a worried hand against your shoulder, it had shaken you to look into the mirror you stood in front and lock eyes with your lady Mary through the reflection. “Are you okay?” Mary curiously inquired and stiffly you had smiled at her.

“I’m fine,” you kindly responded, aware that your ladies were finished preparing you for the day, thus, it had caused your women to guide you out of your room and take you outside to meet with the Sinclair lady.

She had stood on the bricked floor territory outside of the van Richesse manor, an umbrella in her hand to shield her from the sun that had blazed hellishly today. Thankful of your ladies who had dressed you in light coloured clothing for this walk, you had bid your ladies a goodbye ere you had made your way to Lady Jane.

“The Realm’s Diamond,” Lady Jane greeted and drastically you had fanned your hand against your face, Jane giggled in response and gently curtsied in front of you, with humour.

“Lady Jane,” you softly curtsied before you helped yourself get under her umbrella, the two of you had then shared a comfortable conversation, Lady Jane had shared her wish of how she had wanted to be in this year’s Annual Ball due to the amount of gossip she had heard from supplementary guests who had been at the event.

Awkwardly, you had felt a ball form in your throat, but you had attempted so hard to avoid yourself from stuttering. “It must feel good having almost every man at your feet.”

Unmoved, you had raised the both of your eyes, “some of them are disgusting,” you muttered and Jane had laughed at your forward comment. She saw the way you had tilted your head, as if you had wanted to say something else, so gently, she had nudged you and encouraged you to say what you had wanted.

“But?” Jane curiously pronounced.

Caught red-handed, you had sighed and clasped your hands together. “But, there’s one suitor who isn’t a suitor, or doesn’t want to be.”

“Levi Ackerman?” Jane guessed her face mischievous to hear your stumbled response.

Muzzled, you had blushed at Jane’s successful attempt to guess. “How did you know?” You asked and dramatically, Jane rolled her eyes.

“Many people spoke about the dance you shared with him,” Jane replied and faux-surprised, you had raised your eyebrows, you had then linked hand around the upper right arm of Lady Jane and continued to walk down the town.

By the moment you had arrived to dinner you had briskly observed the majority of your guests were your suitors, you hadn’t been shocked that your mother had something like this up her sleeve, thus, instead you had amiably greeted all of them.

You had sat down on a seat close to Lady Jane who had sat opposite you but two chairs away, the dinner had gone well, and you had felt your depression be successfully lifted off your shoulders.

“Sorry we’re late,” a cool tone appeared, the two doors that displayed the dining room had opened and there strolled in Levi Ackerman with his uncle Kenny, the voice had seemed different, so you were aware that it hadn’t come from the shorter man.

“It’s okay,” your father smiled, as he ushered the two of them to sit close to him, their seats were not far away from yours, they were close enough, suitably two arms reach. Truthfully, you had felt a twist of excitement when you saw Levi come in, chiefly when the two of you shared short looks, but you were a Lady, so you had to keep in your excitement.

Though, it had seemed a guest from the table had noticed the brief look you had shared with the Ackerman, the moment you heard a short giggle from Jane you quickly turned to look her way. “The pressure you must be feeling for being the Realm’s Diamond,” Kenny brought up and smally you had smiled at what he had said, you had been in the middle of cutting into your food and you hadn’t realised how fast you had used your cutlery.

“Yes, I’m not going to say it’s a coincidence that all men here are my suitors,” you briefly joked and you could hear the mumble of laughter leave some of the men’s mouth.

Kenny raised his eyebrows, slightly amused. “Yes, aside from your father and I, and Levi.”

“Hm?” You hummed as you could feel the laughter in the room drop. “Well, how comes you two are here anyways?”

“We have business with your father,” Levi answered and you had watched him awkwardly sit up on the seat he was on and if you were blind, you wouldn’t have noticed the familiar glances Jane and Levi shared with one another, yet, you had dismissed it just as another person burst through the doors, their wild entrance had startled everyone yet their stunned reaction had died down once they realised it was Sir. Argent.

He had breathed heavily the second he had arrived to the destination of the dinning room as he babbled unintelligent sentences as he made his way to his seat. Humoured, you had shared a look with Lady Jane who had tried her best to keep in her laughter.

“Welcome, Sir. Argent,” your mother kindly welcomed, and truthfully, you would want to have a talk with your mother to not allow late guests but that would mean you wouldn’t see Levi anymore, unless he began to come to places on time. Sir. Argent and Mrs. van Richesse commenced a small gentle conversation ere your mother had encouraged you to speak to the unprepared man, the moment she had offered your time with him, you quickly pulled a face.

“Thank you for coming Sir, Argent,” you blinked, furthermore, watchful, Levi studied the afflictive and thorny expression you had on the moment you had to speak to the man, dully, you had smiled and curved your vision to your unfinished food.

The dinner had continued and everyone had spoken to each other except you, you didn’t want your depressive wave to return but to see the man who had threatened you strictly yesterday had stomped on the rainbow of content you had previously.

In fact, your mind hadn’t been concentrated with what had been going on. Yu had moved, shortly spoke and listened, but your mind wasn’t there. Currently, you had been tasked to show the manor to your suitors and right now you had been with Sir. Argent, he talked your ear off, while you had pretended to listen to what he had to say.

Your hands were clasped behind your back and your nose slightly pointed upwards, you had walked by Levi and Kenny who had then benevolently greeted you and Sir. Argent who had brushed his arm against yours once he saw the attractive men come into view. The second you were away from the Ackermans you could feel Sir. Argent’s fingers brush against your knuckles.

“Do you remember the deal I had told you yesterday?” Sir. Argent inquired and stiffly you had nodded your head.

You had faked your smile and curved your head into his direction. “How can I forget? You’re being generous with the time you’re giving me.”

“Ah,” Sir Argent happily nodded his head.

“I’ll speak to my mother and father about your marriage proposal,” you informed him and quickly, the man placed his hand below your back, surprised your shoulders had tensed to how low his hand slid down your body and silently you had wished for someone to intrude your conversation, and it was like your Guardian Angel had finally listened to you.

Sir. Erwin Smith had smoothly walked towards the two of you, his figure tall and expression kind, he had held his hand against his chest when he silently greeted the both of you. “May I take Lady van Richesse from you?” Erwin gently questioned and with the look behind his eyes, it had seemed like the Smith man truthfully didn’t require Sir. Argent’s permission anyhow. Moreover, he had showed it when he had taken your hand and guided you away from the insolent man.

“Thank you for saving me from the piteous man,” you thankfully mumbled and softly the blond man laughed at your relief.

He had then winked at you, “I’m here to be your Guardian Angel, and suitor.”

Thankful, you had placed your hand against his arm before you returned both of your paws into a clasped state. “Do you know he’s here for you?” Sir. Erwin knowingly questioned and confound, you had looked up at the tall man, your eyes wide with perplex as they had silently encouraged him to tell you who he had meant. “Levi.”

Confused you turned your sight to the floor. “I thought he was here because of the business he has with my father, like yesterday,” you replied, yet, it wasn’t like you were upset, you had verily liked the idea of him making up lies to see you.

“His uncle Kenny, has business with your father,” Erwin corrected, “just as he did yesterday, Levi just comes along to see you.”

Satisfied, you hid your smile, you clasped your hand together, as you hoped Levi’s somewhat romantic feelings towards you could push him to become one of your suitors. “How do you feel about it? Sir Smith?” You curiously questioned as you looked up at him, a commodity had glinted in his eyes as if he had known you liked the news, he had brought you.

“I’m not threatened, since Levi is not a suitor, if he were then, that’s when there would’ve been a problem,” Erwin joked and thus you laughed along with him before the two of you drowned into a sea-depth conversation.

Currently, you had spoken with Jean, he had actually gifted you some wine his family had created, the Kirstein man had informed you that his family are in attempt to make more businesses for themselves, and honestly, you had liked the liquid they had assembled, grateful that the Kirstein family had actually gifted you more than one.

“It’s refreshing to see your face,” you kindly spoke ere you pressed the curved tip of the cup against your lips, the wine surely had some impact, though, you were still aware of everything, the alcohol had just made you amused at everything.

“Being with you makes my entire day,” Jean gently responded, you had observed the wine had affected him as well, his eyes had seemed sleepy, but his sleepiness had appeared more lustful.

“Having wine without me?” Jane chirped and kindly you had offered your cup to her which she had happily took, “thank you.”

Gently, you smiled at the Sinclair woman before you had turned to face Jean. “Sir. Kirstein, meet Lady Jane, Lady Jane meet Sir. Kirstein,” you briefly introduced and kindly Jane had curtsied in front of Jean who had amiably beckoned his head at the introduction, truthfully, Jean hadn’t seem too interested in the conversation but the alcohol would make him speak to the Sinclair heir, you had used the introduction to seek out Levi who seemed to be walking on his own, his uncle Kenny must’ve been with your father.

“I’ll be coming right back,” you happily quavered before you had glided towards the dark-haired man who appeared to be patrolling the van Richesse manor. Surprised, Levi looked your way but hastily he had returned to his calmness. “I haven’t gotten the chance to speak to you,” you truthfully sounded out and with the raise of both of his eyebrows, Levi had agreed.

“The two of us can go to a more private place,” you blandly offered and with the smug look on the Ackerman’s face you had grabbed onto his right wrist and mildly dragged him along.

“You’re eager to take me to a private place,” Levi dryly mocked and when you twisted your neck to look at him, you gave him a look that sent him into a quick and gentle chuckle.

Just as you made it near your quarters, you had pulled your arms behind your back, your hand wrapped around your wrist while you carefully examined the man in front of you. “You seemed interested in the conversation you had with Sir. Argent,” Levi mentioned and immediately you furrowed your eyebrows.

“Don’t play with me,” you curtly muttered and amused, Levi held back a smile. “I was not interested with what he had to say to me, because it was all about marriage.”

“Well, you’re the Realm’s Diamond,” the Ackerman reminded and with a limited annoyance, you had nodded your head at the reminder, sometimes you wished you weren’t such a prized trophy, maybe that would’ve made Sir. Argent leave you alone. “The entire realm wants to be my suitor, aside from you.”

Humoured, Levi arched his right eyebrow. “Are you dying for me to be your suitor?” Levi wittingly questioned and once more, you had sent him vicious eye darts.

As much as he was the stoic man, he couldn’t help himself but laugh at the expression she had on her face. “Well,” you had then clasped your hands, “it’s not like you came to the dinner to see me. You have business with my father but it seems like your uncle Kenny is the one actually having the meetings.”

Caught red-handed, Levi quickly glanced at you, and with the upper-hand, you had walked towards him, your body pressed against his. “I know that you’ve been coming over to see me, using meetings with my father as an excuse to come here, I wonder how many times you had pestered Kenny to have a meeting with my father so you can take a good look at me,” you sublimely whispered and gently, you had raised your fingers against his collars, using your gentle strength to pull him in closer.

“You caught me,” Levi muttered, “so what are you going to do about it?” He ideally challenged and as a response, you had pulled him into a kiss, vehement, Levi had kissed you back, his lustful embrace fierce and stormy.

Slowly, you had led him into your room, blindly aware of your surroundings that you hadn’t had to pull away from him to be knowledgeable of where you were, but the moment you had entered the room, you had pulled back from him, your hands tight around his clothing.

“Become my suitor,” you whispered and kissed him once more, thoughtful about the entire situation, Levi had led you to your bed, his hands had worked to pull down your undergarment, eager to touch the pearl between your legs.

Apprised that you were damp and drenched, the man used his two right fingers to swirl his digits around your clit and shakingly you had moaned against his lips, his body had hovered above yours, your back comfortably against your cot as Levi had passionately worked his fingers against your pussy.

“Fuck,” he whined at your warmth, his fingers having a mind of its own as it desperately slipped inside of you, quickly, you had gasped at the wild entrance, your hips had rolled in sync with his fingers that had moved inside you.

Your eyes tight shut as you held onto his coat jacket which you had then helped peel off his body. You had whimpered against his lips as you had felt your body tingle against his touch, unconsciously you had begun to hungrily hump for your climax, your movements animal-like; the kiss you had shared with Levi transformed into a moment of heaviness as you had felt his body press against yours, your body had twitched during the moment of its climatic intoxication and there it was, the orgasm you had wildly chased against his fingers.

Eventually, you had shuddered and leaned back as you had watched Levi gravely pull down his trousers which had then revealed his thick and girthy cock that had heaved out, the tip of his cock red and keen to your warmth, as a consequence, Levi had hovered over you again, his kisses against your lips hungrier and intense as he had pushed his shaft into your body.

Intoxicated, you had moaned at his meatiness, your legs wrapped around his waist as he began his strokes slowly, you had felt yourself stretch, surprised that his size was indefinitely abundant. Lewd, you had bit down on your bottom lips as you had felt the man pick up the pace, his face in the crook of your neck as he began to thrust his hips forward, the sac of his cock which had loudly slapped against your buttocks had been swollen, desperate to unleash its load.

Stubborn, you had rolled on top of him, his cock still big inside you, adamant to ride him, you had your hand pressed against his chest, your eyes lustful as you had begun to slowly bounce against him, your hips had rolled forwards in pleasure as you had taken it upon yourself to continue to ridge against the man as if you were a lioness in heat.

Vulgar you had pulled your face down to him while the largeness of his hand had slid up to your buttocks, without shame he had given them a pleasant squeeze as he allowed you to fuck his cock like the beast you were, he had observed how you had pulled off the rest of your garments to expose the plumpness of your breast and the view of the rest of your body had caused the man to shakingly moan.

The way his eyes became small in submission to your lustful ambition, he had then wrapped his muscled arms around your waist and took it upon himself to hump his hips upwards. “[Y/N!” Levi had moaned out, his eyes closed as the two of you had actively fucked each other, promptly, you had wrapped your hands around your breast and massaged them to stimulate yourself more.

“Right there Levi!” You cravingly cried out, your voice high as you had felt the tip of his cock continuously hit the good area of your cunt, ardently, your pussy had squeezed around him, longing to climax around him but dogged, you had kept it away from unleashing.

Gently you had shuddered as Levi had obsessively fucked his cock into your pussy, his girth wet in your folds and his emotions determined and wilful. “Be my suitor!” You cried out, you had lightly licked his ear, inflexible on your choice, “I can always be yours if you allow yourself to be mine,” you lustfully whimpered and drunken with crave, Levi whimpered at your warmth and wetness, your heat over-whelming for him he had resisted the urge to cry out.

“I’ll be yours! All yours!” He breathed out just as he unleashed his hot and thick semen inside you, and relieved you had eventually allowed yourself to climax around him, sapped, you had eventually fell against him, content with your successful assignment.

i actually really liked writing this chapter comments, liking, following and reblogging would be appreciated!

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