#it would be a day of him acting like a dad (no -dy at the end. just dad) and me embarrassing myself | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

greensagephase · 9 months

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Nonviolent Communication - Part Two

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

Miguel O'Hara x FemReader

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

Word Count: 6,468

Part Two

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Grief. Sadness. Heartbreak. Longing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s good to have you back, Lyla.”

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

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

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

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

“Y/N is in my top five.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Alright. See you tomorrow.”

“Bye, Y/N!” Lyla calls out.

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t think I will.”

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

taglist:

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

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

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

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oatmilk-vampire · 3 months

Text

Birthday Blues

Read part 2 here.

Steve hates his birthday.

He knows he may not be the only one who gets "birthday blues" but he feels like it's a lot deeper than just the blues.

When he got closer with Eddie and learned of his own shitty upbringing, he thought it'd be a bonding moment for them. Eddie has to hate his birthday too, right?

Wrong.

Despite Eddie’s mom dying when he was only six, and Eddie’s dad being a deadbeat, leaving Eddie on his own before Uncle Wayne took him in, Eddie loved his birthday.

The Munsons may not have been rich but Wayne always did his best to provide Eddie with new(er) clothes, or dice, or guitar picks. A new album or poster for his bedroom walls. Maybe even his favorite food at the diner--something they didn't do often as they usually survived on box cereal and spaghetti-Os.

And when Al Munson finally rolled into town conveniently around his only child's birthday, well he'd give the sort of shitty, low-commitment gift only a father could give.

And Eddie looked forward to it all the same. One or two shitty presents in six years is better than none when it comes to his father. He'd take what he could get.

So, when Eddie's birthday comes and goes and Steve gets invited to his and Wayne's get together with the kids, and then a later party with the members of Corroded Coffin--well of course Steve goes. And he showers Eddie with love and meaningful but still kinda pricey presents, because he can. And he wants to. Despite the merciless teasing he endures. The look on Eddie's face makes Steve feel like he's the one that got the greatest gift of all.

This, of course, all falls apart when Eddie points out Steve's own birthday must be coming up, and he's right. And because he has no tact he announces in front of everyone who realizes in horror that they've gone years of knowing Steve and celebrating his birthday exactly zero times.

Steve's equally horrified now because now everyone is tripping over their feet desperately trying to make it up to him with cakes and ice cream and movies and handmade cards and weird action figures Eddie probably would have liked better.

It's only after Steve gracelessly accepts all of their gift-giving, and fends off at least three panic attacks and two migraines that he has to put on his bitch voice and scream that the only thing he wants for his birthday is to be left alone.

And like usual, the kids do not listen.

Until Eddie steps in. He makes them go, Robin too, even if she is pissed about it. But they go when Eddie assures them that Steve probably just feels a little overwhelmed right now and needs some space.

He's close to leaving too, knowing he may have made a mistake and should probably get out of his hair... But then Steve starts crying and Eddie has to stay.

It's not loud or ugly, just these little, tiny pitiful things like Steve is trying his damnest to not cry. Like the act of tears falling would kill him.

Eddie cautiously slides next to his shaking form on the couch, careful not to jostle him too much.

He bites his lip as he experiments with placing a hand on Steve's shoulder.

Steve tenses under his touch until Eddie speaks,

"Stevie, I'm sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. None of us did."

His parents were hardly around. Never gave him practical toys he wanted, just whatever they thought a boy should have to shape him into a "proper young man", if they thought he needed toys at all. No parties. Ever. He briefly wanted to throw ragers when he realized he was old enough and his parents wouldn't be home, they never were, but those made him feel even worse so he got used to spending the day like any other. All alone in a big, empty house. Not a home.

Eddie continues to rub soothing circles into Steve's back as he lets it all out, explaining his woes as best he can through a sore throat and runny nose. Eventually he pulls Steve into a proper hug-turned-cuddle until his breathing steadies and he isn't shaking anymore.

"I'm sorry." Eddie holds his breath, hoping it doesn’t trigger another panic attack.

"No--don’t be. Thank you."

"For what? Making you cry?"

"For caring enough to bring it up, even if it was a lot. But mostly for being here, after. Just..."

Steve didn't have to finish his sentence. Eddie knew what he was trying to say.

Thank you for staying. Thank you for holding me. Thank you for loving me.

"Always, Stevie. I'll always be here for you."

Steve squeezes him, and Eddie squeezes back once, twice.

He doesn't say it, but Steve understands.

Happy Birthday... I love you.

#wrote this because.... it's my birthday #i'm 22 #and i've had the birthday blues my whole life #and i thought maybe Steve could relate #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie ficlet

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ghost-with-a-teacup · 10 months

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Hiii LOVE your fic 🫶🏻! I was wondering if you could write a fic where everything that happens in the chase scene, happens to fem!reader but Miguel actually catches up to her & kinda knocks her down. He begs her not to do this, to stay down. As she gets up she asks him if any of it was real, he says it was and still is. He tells her that he thought that if he pursue her romantically then she would accept her dad's fate & wouldn't go against him (of course it doesn't work) she says she can't do that & escapes. He loses it a little & starts destroying everything & makes it everybody's mission to find her

Just pure angst 😭 I'm sorry if this is a lot

𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Reader

Summary: You finally understand the true purpose of the Spider Society; protecting the canon, protecting the multiverse even at the cost of all the Spiders' suffering. But you were going to stop at nothing to find your way home, though Miguel isn't keen on letting you go.

Warnings: Angsty, Miguel gets angry.

“Miguel…what are you doing,” you ask softly, still not wanting to believe what you were seeing. All around you, members of the Society began closing in, caging you in an inescapable circle.

You didn’t want to accept it. That all these people, the ones you have grown to call family would turn their back on you in the blink of an eye. Or rather an order from their leader.

“I can’t let you leave, mi vida,” he says, eyes apologetic but unrelenting.

“What is the purpose of this place, the true purpose of this place Miguel,” you ask, your voice hardening. You had always believed when Miguel first recruited you it was to act as Spider-Man across the multiverse, no longer limited to your own hometown. But it seems there was some other agenda you were made unaware of.

He hesitates for a moment before exhaling lowly, eyes boring into yours.

“The Spider Society…was created to protect the canon of the multiverse. To ensure that in each world the events progress as they should,” he explains as the world disappears around everyone, replaced with holograms of a complex web.

“I don’t understand, what does that have to do with me saving my father?” you ask, and he winces.

You were never supposed to see the hologram and the message that followed it, you realize now. But you had snuck into the monitoring room, carrying a lunch of all of Miguel’s favourite foods when you saw it.

A hologram of your father going about his day, the message ‘Canon Event Detected. Time: 2 Days’ followed by the words ‘Soon to be Deceased’.

You thought it was some sick joke, some prank a cruel spider thought to play on you. But when you asked Miguel about it he refused to make eye contact with you, and that’s when the intervention began.

“Your father dying, is a canon event,” he says. “Just like how every person in this room undergoes their own canon events, their own version of loss. It's what ties every person in this room together in the web that makes up the Arachno-Humanoid Polymultiverse,” he explains, and you only grow more confused as he acted like that explanation justified any of this.

“So you’re saying you know that some of the most important people in every Spider’s life will die, and you just let it happen?” you ask, in disbelief at the blatant cruelty.

“It must happen, to ensure that life continues. That it doesn’t disintegrate into nothing…like how my universe disappeared.”

You only shake your head, taking a step back as your breath becomes slightly unsteady.

“You’re saying that our job here is to make everyone suffer, because of something that you fucked up a long time ago?!” you say, and his eyes narrow at you. It was harsh, but it was true. Perhaps the cumulation of disordered events could destroy a universe, but there was no way of proving that slight changes would hurt anything.

Scientific fact arises through countless hours of testing and experimentation. One result that happened one time shouldn’t dictate what the conclusion will be.

“You can’t tell me not to save my father, Miguel! I can’t just let him die if I can do something about it,” he says, and a look of pity washes over his face as he walks closer to you, but you take a step back.

“All this happens for a reason, these canon events allow us to become who we are, even if it hurts,” he says gently. And even though you hate to say it, it soothes you. His voice always has.

So much so, that you let down your guard for a single moment. Allowing him to come close and slip the watch right off of your wrist.

“No!” you say, trying to take it from his grasp but he was too fast. “How am I supposed to go home?”

“You won’t,” he says in turn.

“I’m sorry,” a voice cuts in from behind you. Jess, with a sympathetic look in her eyes. “I know it's hard, but it's for the greater good.” Looking around, you see all your closest friends surround you, but against you.

“Even you, Peter?” you ask softly, and he only glances away with guilt.

“2 days? That’s plenty of enough time, I’ll get home one way or another,” you say, glaring at Miguel.

“I can’t let you do that,” he says before he tosses a trap right at your feet. Before it can work, you use your telekinesis to throw it back, trapping him instead.

“STOP! ENOUGH OF THIS!” Miguel shouts. It was the first time in your life you had ever heard him shout, and frankly, it scared you as you watch him try to claw his way out.

Everyone immediately starts to move in on you, but you throw your arms out casting a force field that throws everyone back.

Leaving an opening for escape.

Running from hundreds of different spiders all on the hunt for you was not easy. It doesn’t make you feel very superhuman when all that are chasing after you were also superhuman, and quite frankly you were exhausted.

Not only physically, but mentally as well. The whole situation was taking a toll on you even if you were trying to shove it to the back of your head.

Luckily everything served as a pretty good distraction for the pain your heart was in.

“You can’t keep running,” Jess says as you leap from car to car on the freeway, tailing behind you on her motorcycle.

“What choice do I have?” you say, though your voice cracks. You see her determined expression falter. You and she grew close soon after you joined the Society, she was truly one of your best friends.

But best friends don’t keep things from each other, especially things as important as the supposed ‘cause’ you were all working for.

You notice her hesitancy, and that’s when you strike. Kicking her off her bike, you pin her to a car with your webs as you snatch the watch from her wrist.

“I never wanted to hurt you,” she says, looking up at where you hung from the vehicle, sadness in her eyes.

“You already did,” you say before swinging away.

You were very quickly running out of options for escape. Even with the watch, you couldn’t find an opening to program the watch for home.

As a last resort you latched onto the roof of the high-speed bullet train of Nueva York headed toward the skies, hoping that the force of gravity paired with the speed would at least stall some of the spiders off of your trail.

But before you could realize it, Miguel was very quickly on your tail until finally, he grabbed ahold of you, slamming you down into the roof as you yelped out in pain.

“STOP THIS!” he shouts, straight into your face. He doesn’t even take his mask off as he does, making the whole situation seem even more impersonal. You could only scoff in his face before the hurt overwhelmed you, and you spoke before you could stop yourself.

“Was any of it even real?” you ask softly, tears welling in your eyes as you do. Miguel looks taken back for a moment, eyes widened in surprise as his grasp falters for a second.

“What?” he asks.

“Was any of it real?!” you say louder this time. “Those times when you held me in your arms as I cried, the times when you kissed me in the kitchen as we made dinner together, or when we danced in the living room at night. When you said ‘I love you’ for the first time, was any of it even real?” You say as you feel the anger rise.

“Or was it just some kind of sick way of keeping me under your thumb because I’m the 'original anomaly’, to keep me from going against the canon and your sick agenda that you force everyone else to suffer?” you say, your voice loud now as you struggle harder against his grasp.

“It was real...in the end,” he admits, and you feel your expression drop. You wished that this was all some horrible nightmare, that you would wake up and this would just be in your head and he would hold you like he always did.

But deep down you always knew.

Knew that you loved him more than he did you, that this relationship was built on a lie. But you ignored it for the sake of your fragile heart, and here it is getting shattered all over again by the one person in this life you thought you could trust.

“We’re done, Miguel,” you say, resigned at last.

“Huh?” he says, as though he couldn’t believe your words even after everything you had been through.

“I said we’re done,” you say before you kick him straight in his stomach, launching him off of you so that he has to claw his way back onto the roof.

“Goodbye, Miguel,” you say, before you take a leap backwards, flying through the sky for a few moments until you open up a portal back home.

Miguel shouts in frustration as he marches back into the monitoring room, rage radiating off of his form in waves.

In his anger he shoves everything in his path out of the way, talons scratching into the walls as the rest of the Society surrounds him, awaiting his next orders.

Finally, he manages to calm down enough to utter out a single phrase.

“Find her, for the canon…for the multiverse,” Miguel says as guilt creeps in like vines around his heart at his lost love.

Taglist: @beiroviski, @scaraza, @blueoorchid, @remuslupinwifee, @local-mr-frog, @johfaam0, @rawegggohan, @honeycriess, @alexenoirex, @chimpkinnuggies, @rqdior, @banana—belle, @notasadgirlipromise, @6billionyearsold, @gods-perfectidiot, @ieatmunson, @honeii-puff, @wh0re4zaynmalik, @toplinehyunjin, @ohworm-writes, @ishii03, @snowywhiterose

A/N: Could you believe I was going to post fluff today? Crazy how life gets in the way sometimes, but hey, managed to get this fic out lol. Sorry, I know I'm the fluff writer and all but angst just hits sometime :3

#miguel o hara #miguel ohara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #spider man: across the spider verse #spiderman #spiderman 2099 #spiderman across the spiderverse #across the spider verse spoilers #across the spiderverse #spiderman atsv #spiderman 2099 x reader

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roses-r-rosie3 · 11 months

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Hey soo angst right?

So Miguel x male reader where they have a fight because of miles and miguel just gets really angry and says and or does something that hurts the reader. The reader isn't a spider person but is still important to tge universe. Because of the fight the reader decides to leave because he does want to deal with miguel anymore, and he dicise to just help miles and all

You can end it with fluff or angst, whatever you want :)

Put It Straight

Miguel O’Hara x M!Reader

[Part 2]

Warnings: angst and swearing

Quote: “This is none of your business! So just go home!”

✁ - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Y/n was one the few non-spider people working at the spider society. He worked as Miguel’s right hand man because Miguel couldn’t stand leaving y/n alone by himself and because they were dating.

It was a “normal” day in the beginning, but Miguel went off to a meeting, while y/n was on his break. But all of a sudden an alarm went off and everyone got an alert to go after Miles. Y/n knew about the kid, Gwen talked about him all the time. Y/n would occasionally tease her about it.

There were hundreds of different variants of Spider-Man chasing Miles, but one stood out from the rest, Miguel. Miguel seemed ruthless, like he wanted to kill the kid, and y/n was concerned. But what made y/n snap was when Miguel sent Gwen back to her universe.

When Miguel turned around, he saw a fuming y/n.

“Miguel what the fuck was that!” Yelled y/n.

Y/n was one of the only people who could yell at Miguel like that. If anyone else dared to talk to Miguel that way, they were bound to either be dead or in the Er.

“Baby, Not now” Miguel Said.

He was clearly frustrated but didn’t want to yell at y/n.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Not now? You just sent the kid home, where her own father is trying to arrest her! And you see nothing wrong with that!” Y/n yelled.

“Y/n you don’t get it” Miguel said.

“I don’t get it!? First you chased Miles throughout the whole city! And now you sent Gwen home where she could possibly be in danger!” Y/n said.

“He wasn’t supposed to even be here! Because of him, the universe could be destroyed! He found out that his dad was going to die! So he tried to prevent that! He could have destroyed the universe! And for Gwen, she is the whole reason why he is even here to begin with! There! You happy?!” Miguel snapped in anger.

“So you’re saying that he is trying to prevent his dad from dying and you’re trying to stop him?!” Y/n yelled with just as much anger.

“It has happened to all of us! And it’s the consequences of his actions! If he hadn’t followed Gwen then all of this wouldn’t have happened!” Miguel yelled.

“So you’re just going to let the kid’s dad die?! Hasn’t he been through enough, he had to watch his uncle die and now you want him to watch his dad die too?!” Y/n said.

“This is none of your business! So just go home!” Miguel said.

“Weren’t you the one begging for me to come here to work with you? And now it’s none of my business!” Y/n said.

“Y/n- watch who you’re talking to like that, don’t think for one second that I won’t-”

“You won’t what Miguel O’Hara?! I tried, I really tried to understand why you acted like this! I’m sorry, but I’m leaving to go help the kid” Y/n said as he walked away.

“And how exactly do you plan on traveling other universes? You don’t even have a watch!” Miguel said.

“With this” y/n held out a watch while still walking.

Miguel immediately looked at his wrist and noticed that his watch was gone, and started to look y/n and realized y/n took his watch as y/n opened a portal.

“Y/n don’t! You could get killed!” Miguel yelled.

Y/n turned to look back at Miguel one last time with tears in his eyes.

“I love you Miguel” y/n said as he walked inside of the portal.

✁ - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

[Edit]: I'm considering making a part 2 if there is a lot of demand for it

#male x male #mlm #malexmale #male reader #mxm #gay #swearing #angst #miguel o’hara x male reader #miguel o’hara #spider man across the spiderverse spoilers #across the spiderverse #spider man across the spider verse

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arowrath · 2 years

Text

i miss when people took covid seriously. i miss people making their own masks and the idea of going into a store without one being entirely socially unacceptable. i miss when all the schools were out and no one had anything to do because they were inside staying safe. i miss six-feet-away socially distanced masked picnics in my friend's backyard. i miss the phrase "unprecedented times" & i hate the phrase "the new normal" because none of this should be normal. we shouldn't be going about our days as if it were. i shouldn't be the only person in a walmart with a face covering. how is any of this "normal"? people are still dying, the covid rates are spiking again, people aren't getting boosters and my dad goes to church with two thousand people he doesn't even have a mask with him except for the crumpled-up blue mask in his left front pocket that's gone through the laundry at least twice. people are still dying, especially disabled people are dying, and nobody acts like they care anymore. my family and i used to go for walks around a lake fifteen minutes away and we and whoever passed us would all put on our masks if we got within 15 feet of each other. now my little sister goes to her fifth grade math class and the only person wearing a mask is her friend who had covid three days ago. when my dad got covid he passed out on the floor next to the stairs on his way to the bathroom and when he went to the hospital they ran tests and it was "just covid." when did covid become "just covid"? 284 people in the US died of covid this week. when we locked down 7 people had died that week. and "covid is over," and "this is the new normal," and target doesn't have free disposable masks in the entryway anymore.

EDIT: i had reblogs off on this post, i'm turning them back on now, but please be normal in the notes and in my askbox. do not act as though i'm personally responsible or in favor of your small business failing or your child's stunted social skills, do not get mad at me for having lived in an area that for the most part cared about covid for a couple months, do not traumadump about being held at gunpoint. i cannot account for the enormity of the human experience in my post about my personal experiences with covid. and do not tell me about how covid "isn't that serious." im disabled because of covid. i don't want to hear how you don't care if you spread it because it's "not that bad." be normal. be compassionate. at least pretend to care about disabled people, considering that's what the post is about. yes these are all real things people said to me

#my writing #covid tw #text

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gatorbites-imagines · 9 months

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Was wondering if I could maybe do a hobbie brown request?

I was thinking of something like M!reader being an alternate universe version of Miguel's child who, rather than dying himself, had to watch his dad die, basically becoming a smaller version of Miguel but with some key differences (ie like having difficulties with controlling his powers when he’s emotional or having authority issues) and Hobbie seems to take a liking towards him?

Hobie Brown x O’Hara male reader

Headcanons

Theres really not enough hobie gifs,,,,

I literally got a spidersona whose Miguel’s son lmaooo, not movie Miguel, but like, the Miguel from a different earth. So, the reader is based off of him in this :3c

You would have joined the spider society after an abnormality appeared in your world. Everyone had expected to meet another version of Miguel, since it was set in Nueva York. But instead, they got you.

You were younger, angrier, had less control of your powers, and had little to no respect for authority. And though it pained you deeply to see Miguel, he didn’t have a similar reaction, since he had a daughter and not a son.

Others started to avoid you since you had a tendency to snap at others and your powers made it even harder for you to get close to anyone. Like your dad, you kept to yourself and let yourself stew in your misery.

The first time you met Hobie was during on of your common arguments with Miguel. You two were way too alike, meaning you two butted heads, a lot. You each had your own way of doing things and didn’t like change. Maybe it was the O’Hara in your blood, but you never backed down.

It became a common sight to see the two of you hissing and snapping at each other, you because Miguel looked exactly like the dad who had abandoned you, and Miguel because you were like a reflection of himself and all the things he hated about himself.

After another one of your explosive arguments, you stomped out of Miguel’s “office”, but before you could get fat Hobie fall down from the ceiling and started walking beside you, giving you some compliment about how you never seemed to back down against authority.

In the beginning Hobie had annoyed you a lot, you had tried to chase him off like you had everyone else, but Hobie didn’t seem to act like everyone else.

He had a feeling that you chased off anyone who might like you because you feel you don’t deserve it, and after a long time of needling and prodding, you two became closer. At this time, you were both developing feelings, but you didn’t accept you liked someone, and Hobie felt no need to rush it.

As you became good friends, your image at hq became lighter, as having a friend seemingly was what you needed. Someone who’d talk you down when you fell back too much on your anger and spidery biology, and someone who’d listen when you needed to talk, and Hobie was a great listener.

Hobie ends up learning about your situation. You father was Miguel O’Hara, your earths version of him, and he was spiderman. He had you with your mother, and when you were young he left and never returned. Apparently, he believed that abandoning you would save you, or he felt he didn’t deserve a family.

When he left you had been old enough to know he abandoned you, and seeing spiderman on tv screens and on the internet only made you and your mother feel worse.

And then one day Spiderman died. Not long after that your mother got remarried and you started developing your powers. They had stayed dormant until you reached a certain age, and your mother and her husband had reacted horribly to this.

They turned horribly abusive, and you had to run away when you were a teen. One thing led to another, and Miguel’s brother Gabriel helped you onto your feet. He hadn’t known you existed until then.

Together he taught how to control your powers, he had helped you become spiderman, and then he died. He was your uncle ben you could say, but you held his words close to your heart to become a better spiderman, even though your powers became too much sometimes.

Talking about your issues ended up helping you a lot, and even though you do rage sometimes, its much less now, and you start to get closer to the other spiderpeople around your age.

At some point, when you and Hobie are hanging out in your dimension, sitting on a rooftop and eating something you got from a food truck, Hobie turns to you.

You both have your masks pushed up, or rather Hobie has his pushed up, and yours is a hologram and has just disappeared from the bottom of your face.

Before you can react, Hobie has leaned over and kissed you. You don’t even get to return the kiss before he’s pulled away and returned to his food, acting as casual as ever. Its only when you shake him demanding an answer that he tells you that he likes you.

Thanks to all the growth you’ve done as a person you are able to admit that you like him too, and another kiss is shared between the two of you. And after that, you two became a thing.

Hobie was never one for labels, but hed accept the label of being your boyfriend. He happily told anyone who asked, almost bragging that he was able to get you to agree to date him, which always leads to you rolling your eyes at him but smiling, just a little.

Miguel almost has a heart attack when he learns you and Hobie are dating, because after all this time hes started to see you in a familial light, and you have started to see him in a similar way. He will never be your original dad, and you will never be his daughter, but that’s okay.

Hobie is very proud of you for making such great progress, so he takes you out on a date. He isn’t one for big expensive dates, so it would be something like swinging around his city together, or cuddling in his apartment as you watch a movie.

Maybe it wasn’t so bad to join the spider society as you thought it was.

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lazycats-stuff · 4 months

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I’ve been sitting on this a while but I requested a fic where male batbro reader wasn’t very emotional when it comes to death but could I request a second part?

The readers friend stops being friends with him and is rude to him because of him not being able to understand those feelings of others griefs and is makes the reader feel like a terrible person because that’s what the friend said, the reader trying to act like a completely different person to make up for it.

I’ve just had this happen to me before and it has made me feel like a freak for the longest time ):

I can make a part 2 and I'm sorry you were treated like that. You shouldn't be considered a freak just because you see death differently. Everyone griefs differently and that's okay.

Batfamily & male!reader - part 1

Summary: (Y/N) feels like a freak when he has a fight with his friend.

Warnings: mentions and talks about death, (Y/N) is hurt, Bruce being a good dad

After the incident with Damian's animal dying, (Y/N) has been trying to be more sensitive about death, but it hasn't been easy. He didn't understand why he would have to change his opinions for someone's comfort. Sure, he could comfort you, but he won't be changing his personality.

But that attitude soon came crushing down.

(Y/N)'s friend had a death in the family and (Y/N) tried to be a good friend to him. He really did. But his friend didn't see it that way. He called him a freak and then kicked him out of his apartment.

(Y/N) was shocked when his friend did it. He stood outside in the hall for a few minutes, trying to process it all. Is he really a freak? Just because he can't tap into those feelings of grief? Just because of it.

(Y/N) called Alfred to pick him up, trying not to tear up during the call. He left the building, wiping the tears from his eyes, not wanting anybody to question him and make him talk about it.

He will break down in the privacy of his room, when there wouldn't be anyone. And he will lock the door too, just that so nobody enters the room while he cries. He doesn't understand why somebody would be mad if he knew how he would react.

He already knew he was different, ever since the incident with Damian's animal who passed away. Even before that, his relationship and view with death was aloof and not even serious. Death is natural. Every day we are closer and closer to our death. Sometimes, death comes quicker.

Death doesn't really choose when it comes.

Death just comes.

Alfred picked him up and (Y/N) was quiet in the car ride. Alfred was confused as to why (Y/N) was so quiet, but didn't really question it. He only started worrying when (Y/N) just made a beeline for his room and that was something that made Alfred worry slightly.

Once (Y/N) was inside his room, he broke down crying. Was he really a freak? Was he really that... (Y/N) cried softly into his pillow, hugging it tightly. Why?

He stopped crying once he saw the phone's screen lit up with a message. (Y/N) shakily reached for the phone and cried even more when he saw what his friend wrote to him. He threw the phone, not caring about what has happened to the phone.

He sobbed into the pillow. Why is he considered a freak? He is just different in that aspect, why is that so wrong? WHY? (Y/N) just curled into himself, crying himself to sleep.

But that sleep was short and (Y/N) was awake during the night, eyes burning from the crying he did. He swallowed with more difficulty and turned on his side. Should he change? Should he really be what others are?

Should he try to fit in?

Should he be someone he isn't just because he the society wants him too? Why? And for what?

Was that really his friend if he didn't accept him the way he is? And was he really that insensitive?

He tried to sleep more, but couldn't. He slowly made his way down to the kitchen where Alfred was serving breakfast and everyone was already there. He didn't look anybody in the eyes and was quiet during the breakfast.

Bruce noticed it and wondered what has happened, but has decided to leave (Y/N) alone, waiting for him to come to Bruce on his own. He would observe his son, making sure he is going to be okay. He wouldn't push his son, but he would observe.

And observe he did.

He watched how (Y/N) was slowly changing before his eyes. His behavior was different and Bruce didn't like it. It was far too sudden for Bruce.

He didn't know what has brought the sudden change. (Y/N)'s brothers also voiced their concerns to Bruce, seeing that (Y/N) was behaving differently and they didn't really like it too. It was too sudden for them to pinpoint when it has happened.

Worst of all, (Y/N) outrighted denied it. That either meant he was blind to it or he was fully aware of what's going on. There is nothing in between with (Y/N).

Bruce promised himself that he would talk, but how to breach this to (Y/N)? (Y/N) is probably going to blow up at him and then close more into himself. But if he doesn't talk to (Y/N), whatever that has been bothering him, will only eat him further and it would cause a big problem in the future.

And so Bruce manned up and despite his emotional constipation he is going to see what has happened with (Y/N). He won't push, but he has to see what the hell is going. Bruce knocked on the door, entering when he has heard a faint come in.

" Hey (Y/N). How are you doing? " Bruce asked as he closed the door behind himself. (Y/N) was in bed, curled up in a ball, just tired from all of problems and evil thoughts plaguing his mind.

" I'm good. "

Bruce knew that he needs to thread carefully now.

" (Y/N), we are all worried about you. You have changed and you are not yourself anymore. What happened? " Bruce asked as he sat down on the bed next to his curled up son.

" Am I freak? " (Y/N) asked and Bruce frowned at the question. What the hell?

" Who said that? " Bruce wondered as he put his hand on (Y/N)'s shoulder, squeezing it in comfort.

" You know that my friend recently had a death in the family? " (Y/N) said and Bruce knew exactly who it was.

" Okay? " Bruce prompted and (Y/N) took a shaky breath.

" He called me a freak and sent me mean texts. Why can't I be normal?! " (Y/N) started crying once more and Bruce leaned down to hug his son.

" You are not a freak (Y/N). You just can't tap into those feelings and you know, that's okay. Not everyone can tap into that part of themselves and you shouldn't feel sad or hurt." Bruce said, giving (Y/N) a kiss on the head and (Y/N) cried softly now.

" I think that your friend was just overwhelmed with grief and other emotions and I'm not excusing your friend and his words, but I think he got emotional and didn't think about what he has said. " Bruce finished up his thought and (Y/N) nodded into his pillow.

" Is there anything more that is bothering you? " Bruce asked and (Y/N) shook his head in no.

" Okay. Now, if you want, I can ask Alfred to make you something. You didn't eat much during these days and that's not good. " Bruce said and (Y/N) nodded.

" Anything specific? " Bruce asked and (Y/N) shook his head.

" A surprise then? Okay. You can take a nap if you want. " Bruce said with a smile and gave him another kiss to the head, tucking his son in as if he was a child.

When he stepped out, his four sons were clearly listening in. Dick and Jason tried to explain themselves, more accurately trying to make excuses to get themselves out of trouble.

" Don't. (Y/N) is taking a nap and don't bother him now. "

" What happened father? " Damian asked and Bruce ushered them away from (Y/N)'s room. (Y/N) needed to sleep more than listen to his brothers now.

" His friend called him a freak because he couldn't tap into those feelings of grief. " Bruce explained quickly and Jason and Damian became pissed at the friend, but Bruce told them that his friend is probably going from the place of grief.

Now, that was something that they could understand. Dick just wanted to cuddle his brother to death, but sure, he needs his sleep. Tim wanted to talk to the friend, but grief is a tricky emotion.

Damian and Jason were ready to kill the friend, but (Y/N) would kill them in return. So that was off the table.

" Okay, so how do we help (Y/N)? " Tim asked.

" If he wants to talk, support him. If he doesn't, don't push. He told me everything so he got it off of his shoulders. " Bruce said and everyone nodded.

Okay. That sounds like a good plan. As long as (Y/N) got something off of his shoulders, they are going to be happy. "

#dc x male reader #dc comics #x male reader #bruce wayne x male reader #batfamily #jason todd x male reader #batman x male reader #red hood x male reader #tim drake x male reader #red robin x male reader #damian wayne x male reader #robin x male reader #nightwing x male reader #dick grayson x male reader

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forlovvers · 8 days

Text

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ nervous

pair: bf!jay x gn!reader | genre: fluff | warning(s): a kiss, nothing too much | wc: 500 | synopsis: in which jay really wants to impress your parents.

lynne’s notez🗒️: happy jay day!!!! type of bf i’d bring home to my parents tbh 😞

when you come home, the house is wrapped in a mouth watering scent. you hear meat sizzling, broth boiling, and vegetables being diced. jay is bustling around the kitchen, a stressed hand racking through his freshly-dyed brown hair. you step out of your work shoes and walk over to him, delicately pulling him by the waist and into your grasp.

“oh hi, you’re home.” he says, smiling softly and leaning into your touch. he smells of dinner and your strawberry shampoo.

“yes i am, what’s all this?” you ask, referring to the sudden hair color change and excessive dinner. you brush his hair out of his face and watch as his expression changes.

“do you not like it?” jay frowns a bit.

“no no i love it, the only question is why?” you ask, your tone a bit softer than usual. jay was the only one who made you act all gushy.

jay lets out a chuckle, “i thought your parents would like me more if i had my natural hair color.” you crack a smile, instantly understanding everything. the excessive dinner, the sudden hair change, the nervousness he’s shown for past couple of days. jay wants to impress your parents, who were visiting later in the day to meet your boyfriend.

“you’re an idiot,” you say, but the smile on your face only grows. he wiggles free from your grip and picks up a spoon. he loads the spoon with veggies and meat and broth and feeds you, being careful not to burn the top of your mouth.

“how does it taste?” jay looks worried as you chew thoroughly, you think about teasing him but decide against it. he’s put in so much work, you weren’t going to be the one to spoil it.

“amazing, my dad will love it.” you nod surely, and jay lets out a sigh of relief and takes the spoon before you can sneak any more bites.

you spot a large bouquet of pink roses sitting on the kitchen counter, another smile etching itself onto your face. you go over to touch the petals gently, “oh jay, these are beautiful—“

“those aren’t for you. they’re for your mom,” jay says suddenly, stirring a big pot of something. your head perks up in confusion and he gestures towards a slightly bigger bouquet of lilies sat near the refrigerator, “those are for you.”

“i love them,” you say breathlessly.

you turn to see jay standing closer to you, watching you admire the flowers. “i love you.” he says softly, a stupid grin on his face.

he brings you close, hands lingering around your waist. you lean in and plant a sweet kiss on his sweet lips. jay’s hand comes up to cup your cheek, holding you even closer than before. you lose feeling in your knees when he nibbles just a little on your bottom lip.

you pull away after a couple moments, “your meat’s gonna burn, loverboy.” you reach up and rest your arms on jay’s shoulders, getting a good look at him: puffy pink lips and dilated pupils and blushed cheeks looked good on him.

“hopefully your parents like charred beef,” jay jokes and leans in once more, kissing you again.

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pigeonpeach · 3 months

Text

Puppy Love!

Diluc x fem!reader

Cw: none.

He’s been yearning from the start. When you were little and your father would bring you to the winery. He caught sight of you once as you stomped on the grapes. Laughing and giggling. Your smile caught his eye, sending unfamiliar emotions overwhelming his little brain making him panic. He thought he was dying!

He avoided you then. It took some prodding from Adelinde for him to finally open up about his symptoms. To which she couldn’t help but laugh. When his father came home he talked to Diluc about it. He explained that he was in love, that these feelings are normal and nothing to be ashamed of.

Crepus tried to encourage him not to stay stagnant, in the end you two became friends. Strangely the game he wanted to play most with you was house, and he insisted you were the mom and he the dad,Kaeya always as the baby. It was amusing for Crepus and Adelinde seeing him be so protective at such a young age.

Surprisingly though, even as you aged his feelings didn’t disappear. In fact it got worse. Now a young teenager, going through hormones and workouts, he strived to be big and strong so you would fawn over him as you did the other knights. He showed off more, even staying up doing curl ups in hopes he’d get the hardest abs known to men. Always trying to find some excuse to show off his strength when you were around. But now that you were older you figured out he liked you. You giggled and smiled in ways that drove him crazy on purpose. You wanted to beckon him to confess, you liked him too! But he kept putting it off. Deep down Diluc was scared of his love for you. But he promised he’d do it someday! He’d make you his, you two would be wed and bounded for eternity!

His 18th birthday wasn’t what he thought. Nor what you did. Everything changed. Everything. Kaeya suddenly avoided his home after Crepus’s death. He seemed distressed and frustrated. Jean seemed stressed out more than ever. You ended up getting closer to those two in that time. Sure you two played together but you had been busy learning a new trade. You had been studying and just received a acceptance letter from Sumeru. But you couldn’t share in your excitement, it felt wrong to. So you left saying goodbye to Kaeya and Jean.

You put all your energy into studying in Sumeru. You refused to think about Diluc and worry about him. You had wasted your life and childhood pinning for him, did he even love you afterall? Had your flirty advances been misguided. His change in confidence been a oversight? You were heartbroken in many ways. You were sad for Diluc, losing his father, confused about his relationship with Kaeya the brother he was stuck to like glue, and his sudden departure and withdrawal from the Knights. You dated in Sumeru, you wanted to distract yourself, wanted to bury those feelings. You socialized and made friends. You were admired greatly and loved sure but you had wanted it to be him deep down. Wanted him to finally say those words.

When you returned to Mondstadt things had also changed again. Of course you knew, Jean became Acting Grandmaster, Kaeya was now the Calvary Captain, and… Diluc was back? Now it was awkward between you two. He had a face so cold you wondered if he hated something as simple as breathing. It pained you to see him like this. So you focused your attention else were, putting your degree to good use in whatever. It also meant you didn’t visit the Winery much. You couldn’t really bare to go either, it was just too much for you.

Strangely Diluc didn’t seem to approach or even acknowledge you until he noticed a Fatui agent flirting with you one day. You weren’t too into it but hey you have needs too! The guy seemed to get too bold way too quickly. One night at Angel’s share you noticed him glaring him down as he chatted with you, until finally he got a bit rowdy when you said you didn’t feel good. Quickly said agent found himself thrown out upon the first protest out of his mouth.

“Are you okay?” Diluc asked as he walked back to you. You couldn’t help but feel nervous, there wasn’t too many guests tonight.

“Yes in fine. I just drank.. a bit much..” you said, your speech a little slurred. He seemed worried.

“Hold on let me get you something.” He said leaving briefly, he came back with water. “Drink, you’ll feel better.” You did so. Your cheeks were rosy, was it from the alcohol or him? Oh god when did he get so tall? He seemed so hot now! Not just because of his vision too.

“T-thanks. It wasn’t that big of a deal.” You said smiling.

“It was though. I noticed him taking out a vial and I had to get him out. I’ll make sure he never comes back in here.” Diluc spoke with such certainty then. That shaky overconfidence replaced with a more secure and strong voice. You couldnt help but oogle him.

“Do you think you could walk me home after this? I just want to make sure nothing bad happens.” You asked, your hand moved a inch closer to his as you drank some more water.

“Of course, you’ll have to wait till closing though. But I’m more than willing to escort you home.” He said with certainty. You couldn’t help but play with your hair a bit, maybe it was more than the alcohol making you feel more attracted to him, he was quite handsome in that jacket.. those gloves too.. and his arms!

“Of course of course. Although with the fatui being so… active maybe its best I avoid my house for now. Unfortunately the Hotel is all sold out.” You played up your distress noticing how his hair seemed to poof uo at the hint of your fear. As if he was ready to scoop you into his arms and carry you off. Or maybe it’s wishful thinking. But you spent genuine years and decades pining for him so you didn’t have much to lose now.

“You can stay at the Winery for tonight. Don’t worry about anything, Adelinde and I will work something out. We have plenty of guest rooms for you to stay in. I’m certain she’d also be glad to see you again.” He said, his face hid any emotions but his eyes gave him away. You realized he was far more expressive if you just focused on his fiery red eyes. He seemed excited to take you home, almost far too eager. You smiled the same smile that sent him falling head over heels all those years ago, chuckling slightly.

“Oh I’ve heard. I’ve just been too busy to visit. I trust she’s doing well right?” Carefully you moved your hand closer to his. You tried not to look at it but from the corner you could see only a little gap.

“She has been a bit annoyed recently. Apparently her two new hires aren’t too diligent and she often has to make them redo their tasks. She complains they gossip too much.” He says. You smile.

“Oh? Isn’t she a gossip herself?” You said recalling from memory how she loved to talk about the latest drama. Your finger stretched out to gently touch his. He seemed to stiffen.

“Yes but she says that she knows how to balance it. From what I’ve seen she’s right, they often just stand and chat alot. But what about you? I heard you went to Sumeru to study correct?” He asked, his hand moving away slightly making you annoyed.

“Well yeah. Honestly it was quite exhausting. And so pricey too! I ended up often having to forage for food more than i’d like and I ended up accidentally taking hallucinogenic mushrooms once because I didn’t bother to research what was edible and not.” You watched him smile. “But i did have some fun, I went on my first date.” You watched his smile fade as he seemed to grow jealous.

“Oh?” He said.

“Yeah, i had plenty of suitors then, a few nights here and there. It was nice. I’m not in anything committed right though.” You moved your hand closer, this time he didn’t move his. He seemed to be overthinking it. You spotted his brows furrowing.

“What about you? Have you dated anyone?” You asked. He shook his head. “Really?!” You couldn’t hold your surprise.

“Yes. Well I was a bit… busy doing other things.. but nowadays there just isn’t any one quite fit for me.” He said, he seemed to eye you though, you felt emboldened by this. Your hand moving ontop of his.

“If you wait too long you might pass up the opportunity.” You say with a wink. You could hardly believe this was the same man who once fell off his horse because he wanted to impress you. His other hand on yours.

“I-god you’re so beautiful.” He said as if he’d been holding that back for so long. You giggled.

“Really? I’m probably a mess right now. I didn’t really put much care into my appearance today.” You say dismissively.

“No no no. You’re stunning. You’ve always been so beautiful. I just… sometimes it feels like I can’t take my eyes off of you.” He admits. You blush, is finally going to confess?

Unfortunately he seems to get cold feet. Clearing his head and pulling away as he clears his throat. You get annoyed, just how long is planning on waiting here?!

“I-its late. I should start closing.” He says. You sigh defeatedly.

“I understand. Just don’t keep me waiting for too long otherwise I’ll just wander out myself.” You say. He stopped then.

“Actually there is something I’ve been meaning to ask.” He says pausing. You shot straight up In excitement. “I��d like to get dinner with you if that’s alright.” He said. You smiled, his eyes looking upon you with such love. You knew his plan as he finally got the courage.

“Lets make it a date shall we?” You said teasingly. He blushed.

“I-uh… if you would like to sure.” He said nervously smiling. You stood up to his level and pressed a kiss to his cheek boldly. “O-oh i didn’t realize you were this into me.”

“Buddy, you’ve been stringing me along for years now. You aren’t going to get all shy on me now.” You said gently patting his cheek.

“I-i feel like a idiot now.. if i had known you had felt the same I could’ve avoided so much heartbreak.” He sighed as it all came down on him. “Wait… why didn’t you confess then?”

“I wanted you to! I thought you would look the cutest all flustered and stammering!” You said.

“I would not have been that nervous.”

“You are right now.” You smile smugly.

#genshin imagines #genshin x y/n #genshin impact #domestic fluff #diluc x you #diluc x y/n #diluc x fem!reader #diluc ragnivindr x you #diluc ragnivindr x reader #diluc x reader #diluc fluff #diluc is a fucking idiot

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sunrise-imagines · 7 months

Note

Can I get some childhood friends to lovers hcs for Finn? Like the reader grew up with him and now they're dating as adults? Gender neutral or male reader also please :3

Of course!! I love this idea so much. Hope you enjoy!

TW: Light angst, lots of pining, hurt and comfort

Adult Finn x Reader Childhood Friends to Lovers

• Being the only two humans in Ooo, it was only a matter of time before you met each other at the ages of 12.

• Similarly to Finn, you had been found as a baby by a couple from the Candy Kingdom, and they raised you as their own with the help of Princess Bubblegum, her and Marceline becoming sort of older sister figures to you.

• One day, while visiting the castle, Ice King burst in from the wall in an another attempt to kidnap Princess Bubblegum, snow blowing everywhere as you looked up in fear.

• But then, out of nowhere, a boy with a bear hat and a magic dog burst in, beating the crap out of Ice King who fled back to his castle.

• When he turned to look at you, you both became shocked. Neither of you had any weird mutations or odd features, and he certainly wasn’t made of candy. He was human. You were the same.

• And from that day forward, you and Finn became inseparable friends, with you sometimes joining him and Jake on their many adventures.

• You watched as he grew up, fell in and out of love, found an entire island of other humans, met both his biological Mom and (deadbeat) Dad, lost his arm, and eventually prevented a war/world ending event. You sat with him as Fern lay dying, and went with him to plant the seed that would eventually sprout a new willow tree.

• Sometime after the end of Adventure Time, Finn and Huntress Wizard amicably broke up, deciding their relationship worked best as good friends/occasional work partners.

• Having developed a longtime crush on him, you had hoped that now was your chance, but your nervousness and not wanting to ruin your friendship got the better of you so you continued to admire him in secret.

• That was until Jake passed away, and Finn’s personality reverted back to when you were kids and the only thing that mattered was fighting monsters and adventuring.

• You grew concerned as he started to go on more and more dangerous missions, often times for no reason other than the thrill of it, and time after time he’d come back with even worse wounds. But you were always there to patch him up, no matter how bad it got.

• But today was different. After Simon had opened up to him and expressed his depression and how he felt out of place in this world now that he lost his magic, Finn had the bright idea that a life-threatening adventure was what he needed to cure his sadness.

• This of course went terrible for Simon, but Finn thought it was great, and when he came back afterwards with a giant slash on his back and told you about it, that was it.

• You went off on him, telling him that while you know he’s still grieving, almost getting himself killed all the time isn’t the answer. You were tired of seeing him get hurt, and in your righteous anger, you finally admitted that you were in love with him. Tears flowed down your cheeks as you softly admitted that you’d loved him since you were kids, and seeing him act like this after all of his past growth was hurting you.

• Finn’s eyes grew wide, he had no idea that you had felt that way about him. And even more, that you reciprocated the feelings he’d had since you were 18. But with everything going on, adventuring and eventually Jake’s death, he felt like he never had time to pursue a relationship you.

• So he pulls you into a hug, stroking your hair as you continue to cry into his shoulder. He apologizes for making you worry, saying that he didn’t know why he acted the way he did, he just needed a distraction from the pain of losing his brother. But in doing that, he had forgotten he still had you.

• He puts his hand on your chin, directing you to look at him. He smiles down at you, wiping away your tears with his thumb as he confesses that he felt the exact same way.

• Your tears change from ones of sadness to joy, and you feel the urge to kiss him. Luckily he has the same idea, and gently pulls you towards his lips and kisses you sweetly.

• Eventually you both pull away, and in that moment, everything feels like it’s exactly how it’s supposed to be.

• After you officially start dating, he stops going out on adventures as much, instead opting to spend more time with you and Jake’s kids.

• Of course, adventuring is still a part of him, but he focuses more on helping people than fighting and killing things, and of course he brings you along for the ride. Finally, after so many years waiting, the two of you are together.

#adventure time x reader #adventure time #adventure time imagines #finn mertens x reader #finn the human x reader #fionna and cake x reader #adventure time fanfic #finn the human #fionna and cake fanfic #fionna and cake imagine #sfw #finn x reader #adventure time fluff #fionna and cake fluff #light angst

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spatialwave · 1 month

Note

I can’t stop thinking about Angus with a childhood best friend!reader. (I imagine she would go to a different private school so they could only see each other over the summer and talk through letters and calls)

oh my god this is soooo good! you, my dear anon, have a beautiful mind. 🤍

𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐧𝐨 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝, 𝐧𝐨 𝐡𝐨𝐰.

notes: angus tully x fem!reader || 3.1k words || dividers by @cafekitsune

you and angus had been best friends since kindergarten, inseparable through hundreds of playdates from the ages of five to fifteen. you two were attached to the hip and anyone could see the bond that blossomed between the two of you. he was everything to you and you were everything to him.

you remember the first day you met, early november and a chilly day on the playground. you were bundled up with a big coat and mittens while poking and prodding at some flowers that were slowly dying—signalling the freezing weather that would arrive at any moment.

"my mom told me those kinds of flowers are weeds." a voice spoke from beside you, a boy your age with wildly, curly hair and big brown eyes. he wasn't looking at you, but at the wilting flower.

"pretty weeds," you murmured as your gaze turned back to the same flower.

"yup," he replied, the two of you kneeling there in silence as the school bell rang. neither of you moved until one of the teachers found you both and ushered you inside—you sat next to each other for the rest of the year; the history of your friendship.

angus was there when you were twelve years old and experienced your first adolescent heartbreak. a boy one year older who had kissed you and told you he loved you; then kissed one of your other so-called friends the same day with the same words. back then it shattered your entire being and angus was there to help you pick up the pieces and put your poor little heart back together until it was beating again.

and whenever he was feeling sad, which happened a lot after his dad was put in a sanitarium, you were there at his house with some popcorn and ready to watch whatever movie would air that evening. sometimes you two would listen to a record and simply exist together—being near each other made him feel better.

hell, he was even there when you got your first period when you were visiting his family. you remember how both of you started screaming when you told him you were bleeding, crying as you convinced yourself you were dying until his mom came to the rescue. she had to explain biology more thoroughly than your health teacher did, which only embarrassed you and made angus start asking a flurry of questions about it. from then on, once a month, he'd be there with whatever you needed; junk food, chocolate, and a hot water bottle.

your lives were so intertwined that you knew every little detail about each other. well, mostly. there was one moment that you kept from him in the vastness of your relationship, how his first kiss made you boil with jealousy.

you pushed that feeling far away and focused on the positives of your friendship as years passed and life slowly felt more and more complicated.

it was in your freshman year of high school when he first started acting out, even when you offered all the support you could muster up. he was kicked out of your school at fifteen, then another in the same year. the following year he almost made it the entire schooling term before he was finally sent off to a private boarding school—completely uprooted from the friendship you two had together.

that was your first real heartbreak.

his too.

angus beat himself up about it during the sleepless nights at barton, devastated that he couldn't even see you on weekends like he used to. knowing that you were in your senior year and he was lagging behind as a junior because of his expulsions. there was a drift happening in your friendship and it was because of him. all because he couldn't keep his emotions in check.

you couldn't blame him and you wouldn't, you made that apparent with the letters you sent him. making sure he never once felt alone in his struggles.

"𝙷𝚒 𝙰𝚗𝚐𝚞𝚜,

𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝙱𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚘𝚗 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕. 𝙼𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚂𝚌𝚘𝚝𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚜 𝚗𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚢 𝚊𝚜 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚍𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚛𝚞𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚊𝚒𝚕 𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢. 𝙳𝚒𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚗 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙿𝚎𝚕𝚘𝚙𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚊𝚗 𝚠𝚊𝚛 𝚢𝚎𝚝? 𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚊 𝚌𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚢 𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚠𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚌𝚊𝚗, 𝚒𝚝 𝚖𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚙 𝚖𝚎 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚊 𝙲+. 𝙸 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚝, 𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚂𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚝 𝙺𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚖𝚊𝚜 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚙 𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚘𝚔𝚊𝚢?

𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎, 𝚈/𝙽."

it was these letters that kept him afloat during those days in the week that made him want to give up and run away, or worse, get expelled and sent to fork union. he kept every single letter from you and hid them underneath his mattress. if kountze were to see them that would be the end of it, so he made sure to read them only when everyone was asleep—he always had the best dreams after.

"𝙷𝚒, 𝚈/𝙽,

𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚗'𝚝 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚢𝚎𝚝, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚏 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝙼𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚂𝚌𝚘𝚝𝚝, 𝚜𝚘 𝙸 𝚊𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚏 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚙. 𝙱𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚘𝚗 𝚒𝚜 𝙾𝙺, 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚜𝚎, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚏 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚕 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗. 𝙸 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚎 𝙸 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚢𝚎𝚝 𝙸'𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚂𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚝 𝙺𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚜. 𝙼𝚢 𝚖𝚘𝚖 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚕𝚎𝚢 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍 𝚠𝚎'𝚕𝚕 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚊 𝚏𝚎𝚠 𝚍𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚘 𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚘 ��𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚘𝚗, 𝙸'𝚖 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚍𝚊𝚢𝚜. 𝙸 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘𝚘.

𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎, 𝙰𝚗𝚐𝚞𝚜."

hearing from him always made your stomach flutter and left your heart aching deeply for him. it was melancholic, wishing more than he could be back by your side while trying to be content with a letter from your love... your love?

those feelings had been building up inside you for months—years.

it left you awake at night, wondering if angus felt the same or if you would remain nothing more than friends for the rest of your life. you couldn't be upset with the latter, angus was your best friend and you would never let yourself lose that.

yet, you yearned for him. for the possibility of something more. you dreamt of what it would be like to kiss him, but those thoughts diminished quickly because you felt guilty. you shouldn't have those feelings for a boy who's only your best friend.

a few weeks had passed and you hadn't written a letter back because school was hectic and the gloominess of winter had left you with little energy. you and angus could sometimes go weeks without hearing from each other, but it was never intentional. it wasn't until your first night home during the christmas holidays that you realized you'd never written him back. you had only started scribbling a letter when the phone rang.

"it's angus!" your mother called from the kitchen on the first floor. that's when you remembered the promise he made in your letters. he'd be visiting soon!

"coming!" you called back as you rushed down the stairs so fast your mother had chastised you for nearly running your little brother over. you pressed the phone against your ear, lips curved into a big smile as you caught your breath, "angus, when are yo—"

"i won't be visiting," his voice said quietly, a bit crackly through the phone and deeper than you remembered it being when you last spoke. your brows furrowed together at his words and you were filled with nothing short of confusion and disappointment, hand clutching tight the phone in your hand as your other absently fidgeted with the cord.

"what do you mean? you promised me you would, angus." you said to him, your voice sharper than you meant for it to sound, "is saint kitts really that much more important?"

silence.

"my mom and stanley are going without me," he replied and it was then you could hear in his voice that he was fighting back tears. his heart was broken and you weren't there to pick up the pieces. you filled with dread and guilt for your snappy words, feeling the aching of his heart in your own.

"what?" you questioned, leaning back against the wall and tilting your head up, eyes fixating on the ceiling where you could see a water spot forming from the old piping in your home.

"yeah, they decided now was the fucking time to take their honeymoon. can you believe that? they ditched me and went to saint kitts without me and left me at barton," he said, his voice growing angrier with each passing second, "the worst part is that i didn't care about saint kitts, i just needed to see you," his voice cracked again.

tears pricked at your eyes and your mom, who had been eavesdropping, had decided to let you have privacy in the kitchen as she escorted your brother to the playroom. you sniffled and wiped away the tears with the sleeve of your sweater, shaking your head in disbelief.

"i miss you so much, angus, it physically hurts," you whimpered into the phone and it was then you couldn't help but start crying. the sounds made his heart ache.

"i know, i'm so sorry."

the two of you were only on the phone for a few more minutes because angus had heard one of the other holdovers coming down the hall. you didn't question it, a school full of boys meant that crying around others was asking for a death wish.

when all you could was hear the dial tone, a quiet 'i love you' escaped your lips.

pathetic.

four days passed and tomorrow was christmas eve; you'd never felt so empty in your entire life. you hadn't heard from angus since your last phone call and it was like all joy and happiness had been sucked out of your soul. your mother, who often liked to call you dramatic, didn't dare say a peep.

you had been laying in bed all morning, doing nothing except falling back asleep or staring out your bedroom window and watching a soft flurry of snow falling. you promised yourself to write angus a letter today, but you weren't entirely sure that you would be able to without breaking down and sobbing. your eyes were already puffy from crying yourself to sleep, you couldn't risk them hurting anymore.

"sweetie?" the voice came with a knock on your door. your mother, her voice as sweet as cinnamon. you didn't answer as the door creaked open.

"i'd like for you to come for a drive with me, if that's alright."

"no."

"i'm not leaving until you come with me."

"fine."

you were bundled up in a big coat as you sat in the passenger seat of your mother's station wagon, your forehead pressed against the window as you watched the snowfall. you hadn't really been paying much attention to where you two were going or how long you'd been driving, figuring that sooner or later your mother would pipe up and ask about you. this was always her way of understanding your emotions, it always worked. you always managed to spill your guts to her while in the passenger seat.

"do you love him?" she asked quietly, her eyes flickering toward you.

"what?" you became defensive, sitting upright and glaring daggers at her, "no. i mean yeah. of course i love him he's my best friend. just... nothing more. nothing like that!"

"so you do." she smiled, admiring you as she focused her attention back ahead, fingers gently tapping against the steering wheel as she hummed softly, "i'm taking you to barton."

"what?!" you screeched, your heart pounding hard in your chest, "you're telling me that now? you should've let me get ready! god, he's going to think i'm a mess!" you grumbled as you pulled down the visor and looked into the mirror, trying desperately to make your hair behave and wipe away the tiredness from your eyes.

"he's not going to care what you look like, darling." your mother said with a sigh.

"okay, well i care what i look like!"

"stop being so dramatic."

—

on the way to barton, your mother told you what she had planned behind your back, she called the school and managed to speak with a lady named miss lamb and explained the situation. according to your mother she sounded very excited that you would be visiting angus—it was likely that he was being just as pouty and sad as you were, if not more.

it made you wonder how lonely he'd been. should you have called more?

your hands were shaking as you pulled up to the school, your entire body nearly vibrating as you stepped out of the car and did one more fix on your hair. you were excited to see him, but why were you nervous? you had never been nervous about seeing him, why was this different?

an older woman who you could only presume was miss lamb greeted you at the main entrance, ushering you in quickly. you sighed softly when the cold air was no longer nipping at your skin, but instead, you were filled with that familiar feeling of nervousness once again.

"i think angus is up in one of the classrooms right now. he's been hiding himself away since he's been here with just me and mr. hunham. the poor boy got left behind here while the other boys were able to go spend the holidays at a ski hill," she said, glancing at you a few times as you followed her, fidgeting with your hands nervously. you hadn't realized until now that your mother had stayed in the foyer. miss lamb spoke up again, disturbing your thoughts, "he mentioned you the other day at dinner. was complaining to us about his situation and how he was supposed to visit his best friend... you know, i expected you to be a boy."

"yeah," you murmur as you ascend a staircase, "people always say that. a girl and a boy could never be just friends."

"mhm, it's hard for people to think that when they know what young love looks like," she hummed, avoiding your piercing gaze as she led you through the halls, "angus!" she called out as you two reached a hallway on the second floor, "where are you?"

"what do you need, mary?" his voice echoed from the last classroom on the right, his voice whiny and pouty.

you hadn’t moved so fast in your life. your legs picked up speed and mary turned the other way, satisfied with what she'd seen so far. she wasn't going to impose on a special moment. this was the happiest she'd felt in a long time, too.

"angus!" you called out as you sprinted ahead, nearly missing the door as you made a full stop under the door frame. you watched him as he turned his gaze, eyes moving from the window he'd been peering out of and over at you. you were blessed with the sight of seeing his big brown eyes soften and how a weight eased on his shoulders. he was gorgeous, the most beautiful man in the world and you weren’t going to leave barton until he knew that.

"what the hell are you doing here?" he asked, blinking a few times, as though he was hallucinating and afraid you weren't real, "christ–get over here."

he met you halfway as you bolted toward him, arms outstretched and wrapping around his waist as you buried your face into his chest. “i missed you so fucking much,” you whimpered, fingers tightening into fists as they gripped the back of his jacket. he smelled nice, like the cheap cologne you bought him last christmas; musk, cedar & notes of vanilla.

his own arms were around your shoulders, his face nuzzling against the top of your head as you two relished in each other’s presence.

it had been months. months that felt like a millennium.

“i missed you too,” he whispered against your hair, arms tightening around you briefly before easing up, “you look so pretty.”

you tilted your head back to look at him, your eyes glossy from the tears that spilled down your cheeks. you had parted your lips to say something back as your cheeks reddened from his compliment, but he didn’t give you the chance—rightly shutting you up with his lips.

it was then you fully understood how much you loved angus tully, less as a friend and more as a partner. a soulmate.

your lips moved together in desperation and need, kissing each other like you were lovers that had been separated for years. one of his hands had moved up to the back of your hair, fingers tangling, while the other gripped at your hip. both of your arms snaked around he neck, pulling him down so you didn’t have to stand on the tips of your toes to meet his lips.

this lasted for awhile, stopping only when you two had ran out of breath and were panting together.

“i love you,” you said first, your forehead pressing against angus’ as you looked deep into his brown eyes, “i’ve loved you for a very long time... too long.”

“me too,” he murmured in returned, the hand that was on your hip now caressing your cheek, his thumb gently grazing over your soft skin, “you’re the only reason it’s lonely here. seriously, i think i’m going mad without you,” he laughed breathily, bumping his nose playfully against yours.

“then i’ll make sure you don’t have to go without me too long,” your voice was soft as you spoke, unable to rid yourself of the big smile that plastered your lips, “maybe we can convince your teacher to let me stay for a night… or maybe you can spend christmas with us.”

“i want to go to boston with you,” he said quick, like he’d been waiting to say it.

you knew exactly what he meant. you knew everything about boston—you knew who was waiting in boston.

“okay,” you murmured, “let’s go to boston.”

you couldn’t promise that it would actually happen, how on earth would a chaperone let their student travel miles away to a city without them? you didn’t care about that right now. all you cared about was making sure that angus knew he had your support. that’s how being best friends worked.

you were there for each other. you were always going to help pick up each other’s pieces.

“kiss me again, angus.”

#angus tully #angus tully x reader #dominic sessa #the holdovers #angus tully fic #the holdovers fic #wordsbyspatial #spatialanswers

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fairyhaos · 2 months

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seventeen and plants

how good i think seventeen would be at looking after plants

masterlist

seungcheol:

the most plant dad to ever plant dad. owns like 5 succulents, 2 mini herbal bushes and several little flower pots. has a watering rota that he follows to the T n whenever he goes away he has one of the members swear on their svt ring that they'll remember his rota for his beloved plants. probably rants about everything the members have done to annoy him to his plants. they're his pride and joy.

jeonghan:

could definitely grow a plant if he wanted to, provided he developed an emotional attachment to it so he wouldn't forget to keep it alive. prefers his pets to be inanimate and unalive like his rocks so he doesn't have to worry about them dying on him. once had to look after dokyeom's plant when he was away for a week, had to be reminded by seungcheol to water it

joshua:

feels really bad for houseplants bc they're trapped in a pot and they're kept indoors :((( could probably grow a plant if he wanted to, but he's never really wanted to n never really tried so he doesn't know. plants aren't really His Thing. plus his hay fever is rlly erratic and could flare up at Anything. finds great amusement in seungcheol's watering rota, once messed it up to see how long it took for him to find out, was caught in less than ten seconds

junhui:

wants to grow plants!!! just doesn't have the patience nor the time for it. likes talking to minghao's tree. and dokyeom's plant. doesn't talk to seungcheol's plants a lot tho bc apparently they're rlly snooty and keep talking back to him whenever he says something???? the members can't tell if he's actually a plant whisperer or if it's just all in his head

hoshi:

once owned 3 little cacti that he bought impulsively one time when they were in america. grew strangely attached to his weird fluffy spiky plants despite not rlly being much of a plant person. one of them ended up being killed by wonwoo, one other was sat on by hansol (accidentally) and the last one ended up being adopted by seungcheol bc the eldest was worried that something catastrophic would end up happening to it.

wonwoo:

has the most un-green fingers in the world. everything he so much as glances at dies. which is really weird, bc he tries his best, following all the instructions n everything and yet somehow he still managed to kill one of hoshi's cacti, resulting in the other being inconsolable for several days. concludes that growing plants are Not For Him, but finds that he's okay at following seungcheol's plant rota for a couple of days

jihoon:

can't take care of plants. he's a Busy Man okay, and even though he'd really like to, he's kind of busy taking care of himself to think about another living thing. sometimes helps minghao trim his bonsai tree when he's upset, but wasn't allowed anywhere near seungkwan's plants (when they were alive) bc for some reason the younger member thought that they would die the second jihoon touched them

minghao:

owns a bonsai tree that he bought from china a few years ago. very precious to him, whispers mysterious stuff in mandarin to it every evening after he's done his meditation routine. only lets a select few touch his tree, and definitely doesn't let hansol or wonwoo come within three metre radius of it. doesn't have a water rota like seungcheol, instead has Intuition that means he suddenly bolts upright and scurries away to water his tree bc it is Calling To Him

mingyu:

can't raise plants, doesn't want to raise plants. says that he once owned a lily plant back in high school whenever the members tell him that he can't keep anything alive and intact. is then always reminded that he ended up dropping it out the open window while he was trying to clean the window sill. but that's not his point!!! he managed to keep it alive up until his hand-eye coordination acted up again

dokyeom:

used to refuse getting plant gifts from people n for his birthday bc he believed that every plant he ever had would only ever die tragically in his care. that is, until minghao suggested that he sings to the plants and suddenly!! every living green thing within his vicinity is flourishing!!! has one beloved chinese evergreen plant that is his everything. does his vocal exercises to the plant every single morning

seungkwan:

went through a craze of owning like 10 potted ferns. you couldn't go into his room without feeling like you'd entered the fern jungle. ended up being so stressed over maintaining them that he overwatered three of them so they died. then accidentally knocked over another two while walking into his room with his vision blocked by his pile of laundry. the other five ended up dying within the year too bc he kept the heating too high (he always runs a little cold) and they couldn't withstand the temperature and died :((

vernon:

isn't allowed anywhere near anyone else's plants after the incident with hoshi's cactus. but in his defence, it was partly hoshi's fault bc who leaves a cactus plant on the chair in the dining room where anyone could sit down on it??? had sore buttcheeks for over a week after that n couldn't sit down without wincing. doesn't really want to take care of plants. once helped seungkwan water his ferns, back when they were still alive, but that's about it

chan:

once owned a mini peace lily plant that managed to grow so beautifully despite the fact he did the bare minimum to look after it bc he was so busy. the hidden master when it comes to looking after plants. is one of the people that minghao trusts with his bonsai tree, sometimes is allowed to watch minghao perform his ceremony with the plant. doesn't have time to look after plants tho, n ended up giving away his lily to seungcheol, who promised vv solemnly to take good care of it

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evansbby · 1 year

Text

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 (𝐏𝐎𝐘𝐓 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐥)

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dark alpha!Steve Rogers x naive omega!Reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: dark Steve, heavy misogyny, a/b/o dynamics, stalking, smut, daddy!kink, swearing, 18+, minors dni!

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You walk into the lecture hall and Steve doesn’t know how to act.

𝐀/𝐍: Well, it’s finally here! This is a prequel of my fic Preying on You Tonight, completely in the point of view of everyone’s favourite toxic king, Steve! This is around 11k words. Please enjoy!

The first time Steve sees you, it’s like he suddenly can’t breathe. And the funniest thing is, he doesn’t even see you at first – he senses you, as ridiculous as that sounds. He’s just sitting there in the middle of the lecture hall, prodding the back of Bucky’s head as his friend lays slumped over on his desk, looking comically hungover – dark eyebags, rumpled clothes, red eyes – the works.

And then Steve feels this strange sensation, this prickling feeling at the back of his neck that makes his heart beat faster too. Almost like he’s nervous or anxious – which is stupid because Steve is never nervous or anxious. Even during the biggest football games of the season, with hordes of people in the crowd and even NFL recruiters watching, Steve still doesn’t break a sweat.

So, why does it suddenly feel like all the air’s been forced out of his lungs?

And then it hits him. It’s only the tiniest hint of the most incredible scent that he’s ever smelled, but it hits him like a fucking freight train. He remembers being really young, and his mother would grow magnolias in her garden. He remembers being almost obsessed with the smell, and inexplicably being drawn to the garden countless times before temptation finally gave in and he plucked a handful of the delicate flower, smelling it greedily.

His mother had just laughed – she never got angry at him. And Steve still remembers how he’d clutched the flowers tightly in his little fist all throughout lunch; because now that he had them, he could never let them go. And they smelled so intoxicatingly good – creamy and sweet, like vanilla with swirls of lemon. They smelled like spring, and Steve always liked spring. He’d kept the flowers by his bedside table (in his drawer, so his dad wouldn’t see).

But soon enough, the flowers had wilted – and that had made Steve mad. “What’s it gonna take to keep them alive?!” He’d demanded his mother, probably only about five years old yet angry at the world and angry at his flowers for dying on him. And his mother had patted his head, and soothed him with kisses.

“Love, Stevie. It takes love to keep them alive. Love, and patience and nurturing.”

And Steve remembers looking at his mother, then looking down at his poor, dead magnolias… A beat passing before he’d promptly thrown them to the ground and stomped all over them. If they were weak enough to just die like that, then he had no use for them. No matter how good they smelled.

But now, in the lecture hall on the first day of his senior year of college, Steve smells those magnolias again. Creamy and seductive yet reminding him of innocence, and youth, and memories of spring and new life. Just the right level of sweet, tickling his nostrils pleasantly, before he takes the deepest whiff of his life, like he just can’t get enough of the addicting smell.

And then he sees you.

Half-hidden by the most outrageously large hoodie he’s ever seen, with your books clutched to your chest and the shyest little smile on your face, you tentatively enter the lecture hall and Steve feels like his heart has stopped.

But… why?

He’s not blind – he can see you’re pretty. Very pretty. Softly pretty, is how Steve would describe it if he had to. All shy and hesitant as you make your way into the gigantic lecture hall, like a little butterfly in a jungle. He sees how you smile around, but you don’t seem to know anyone because you take a seat in the front row all by yourself, looking all intimidated and scared and excited and nervous, all rolled into one. And it creates the most attractive combination and he can’t stop staring at you.

You’re an omega, you have to be, judging by your demeanour and your scent – although the intoxicating smell seems to be fading away slowly as the minutes go by. And Steve wonders what exactly you’re doing here. There are barely any girls in this class – and absolutely no omegas. In Steve’s opinion, a World Politics class is no place for an omega to be hanging around – especially one as weak and delicate-looking as you. Maybe you’re lost, because you don’t look like you belong here at all, not in this lecture, and not in this university either – or any other university for that matter.

Steve firmly believes that omegas like you should be at home – cooking or cleaning or waiting patiently on all fours to be fucked by alphas like himself. And that thought – as out of the blue as it was – immediately has his cock thickening in his slacks.

But you stick out like a sore thumb, with your patchy little book bag that looks like it’s been DIY-ed out of a pair of old jeans, and your little sneakers that are still scuffed even though he can tell you’ve tried to scrub them clean and polish them and make them look new. You’re not from here, you’re not like the people he’s grown up with. He’s never seen you before – who the hell are you?

And why do you smell so good?

“Well, well, well – fresh meat.” Bucky is suddenly no longer hungover, eyes alert as he follows Steve’s gaze and locks in on you.

Tiny, little you in the front row of the lecture hall, unpacking all your textbooks and already starting with your notes despite the fact that the lecture hasn’t even begun yet. What could you possibly be writing down? The damn date?

And Steve feels an inexplicable wave of irritation because it’s not just Bucky who’s staring at you. He can see Thor, Andy, Ransom and Curtis, amongst others, lean forward with sick interest gleaming in their eyes at the sight of a little omega like you in their midst.

“She’s gorgeous.” Bucky whistles lowly, nudging Sam, who is also staring at you appreciatively. And it makes Steve want to gouge both their fucking eyes out. And he’s trying to keep his cool but it’s hard to do that when his breath seems to hitch every time he looks at you, and it’s confusing the fuck out of him because you’re just some random omega. And never before has an omega got a reaction like this out of him before.

“She’s probably lost.” Sam snorts, “I wonder if she’s an omega.”

Steve blinks, “She is. Can’t you smell her?”

The two alphas shake their heads before Bucky leans forward on the table to get a better look at you, “She’s probably on suppressants, but she looks like an omega. All shy and weak and shit.” He licks his lips, “That’s really fucking hot, if you ask me.”

Nobody fucking asked you! Steve wants to sneer but he manages to control himself.

“I call dibs.” Bucky announces, sitting up straight and baring his teeth like some sort of comical predator, and never in his life has Steve felt more irritation than how he does right now. Actually, irritation is an understatement – if Bucky wasn’t his best friend since childhood, he’d definitely have punched him in the face or at least verbally insulted him enough to knock him down a few pegs.

Suddenly, Steve’s happy that you’re wearing that ridiculously large hoodie because at least your body’s shielded from all the less-than-innocent gazes that seem to be drinking you in from all angles. And how fucking dare they look at you? When Steve saw you first? Smelled you first??

She’s way below my league, Steve has to remind himself. He’s Steve Rogers, star alpha quarterback and captain of the football team. From one of the most distinguished families in New York, with a future in both the NFL and politics, both with his own talent and his father’s connections.

And then there’s you. With your clothes that clearly look like they’re hand-me-downs, and your scuffed trainers and the fact that you’re probably a nobody scholarship student fresh out of some trashy, no-good neighbourhood. Nope, Steve knows he’s leagues above you, and he knows that the lucky omega he ends up with will be from an esteemed and traditional family. And that’s definitely not you.

So then why does his heart skip a fucking beat when he sees you smile softly at the professor who has just entered the room? And why does he want to rip the professor’s heart out and feed it to him for daring to smile back at you? Dumb fucking asshole professor… Steve could have him fired in a heartbeat. How dare he look at you, how dare Bucky look at you, how dare anyone look at you–

“She’s fucking the professor.”

“Huh?” Bucky stops dead in the middle of explaining his elaborate plan to seduce the class’s newest omega. “What did you say?”

Steve runs his hand through his hair and shoots his friend a smug smile, “I recognise her now. I saw her earlier today when I went to the professor’s office. He had her bent over his desk – and I’m sure it wasn’t the first time.” The lies roll off his tongue smooth as butter, and he feels not a pang of remorse as he watches the dreamy look on Bucky’s face morph into one of disgust.

“Yeah, she’s just a trashy bimbo omega from some small hick town,” Steve continues, relishing the gullible looks of immediate disdain on both Bucky and Sam’s faces. And he knows word will spread fast – it always does around here. “And I’m pretty sure I heard a rumour about a girl sleeping with the dean to gain admission – that was definitely about her too.”

Sam scoffs, “So she’s probably a stupid no-brain slut. As if this place wasn’t going downhill already, now they’re taking in hick-town omegas too.”

Steve narrows his eyes at Bucky, who is still staring longingly at you.

“Hey, Buck. Speaking of slutty omegas – Natasha was asking about you the other day.”

The brunette tears his gaze away from you, “She was?”

Lying comes quite easily to Steve. “Yeah, Sharon mentioned it. Maybe you should give her a call, I know Nat’s an easy slut but at least she doesn’t fuck professors and deans to get herself through college, right?”

Manipulating his friends is almost as easy as lying, and Steve smirks as Bucky finally nods and gets his phone out. And Steve leans back, letting out a sigh of relief because he knows word travels fast, and soon none of these half-wit alphas would be giving you a second glance. And maybe a small part of him knows that spreading this rumour is unfair on you, but in a way, he’s doing you a favour. He’s just protecting you, isn’t he? From all the unwanted attention?

***

Bucky: Heads up, your girlfriend is about to walk in through the front door.

Steve stares at the text for a few seconds, mild irritation brewing inside him. But he feels no real sense of panic or urgency as he glances down at the girl on her knees in front of him – Priya or Ria or something, he can’t remember. Not that it matters anyways. He tugs on her hair, smirking as she protests with her mouth full of his cock.

“Hurry up. My girlfriend’s on her way over.” He informs Priya/Ria, who starts sputtering and trying to push herself off him but Steve keeps her head in place, lazily thrusting in and out of her mouth as he quickly texts Bucky back.

Steve: Stall her for a few minutes.

Bucky replies with a thumbs up and Steve tosses his phone aside, trying to focus on what’s right in front of him. And in this case, it’s a scantily clad girl whose head is currently bobbing up and down on his dick. Steve sighs, clutching her hair harder and increasing the pace of his thrusts, wanting to cum quickly and get rid of her straight after.

He’d already fucked her half an hour ago before taking a smoke break during which she’d unfortunately stuck around. And there’s a part of Steve that doesn’t even care, that wants Sharon to walk in on him getting blown by some random bitch. And it isn’t the first time he’s cheated on her either. The way Steve sees it, why stick to one girl when you could have every single one? And he’s confident that there isn’t a single girl at this university who wouldn’t spread her legs for him.

And then his thoughts fall on you. Fragile, innocent little omega who is now forever labelled as the campus slut. But would you spread your legs for him? Steve bets you’re inexperienced, judging by how shy and studious you look, but that doesn’t mean he can’t get you to sleep with him. Fuck, he can’t help but imagine you on your knees in front of him, eyes wide as saucers and tears dripping down your cheeks as he fucks your face. Shit. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

He cums embarrassingly quickly, images of you pouting and crying as he shoves his big dick down your throat flashing before his eyes. And God, he knows he can do better than you, better than some lowlife scholarship omega with scuffed trainers and a dumbly peculiar taste in oversized hoodies. Yet he can’t understand why just the singular thought of you blowing him had him cumming faster than Sharon or any of the other girls ever could.

He doesn’t really have time to mull over any of this, however, shoving Priya/Ria off his dick and tossing her clothes at her while she sputters on the floor.

“Get dressed, Sharon’s downstairs.” Steve tucks his dick back into his sweats before grabbing his phone and settling down on his bed.

“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God, why didn’t you tell me she was coming over today? You know she’s head cheerleader this year? If she sees me here, she’ll kick me off the squad!” Priya/Ria laments but Steve is already bored, finding a random Tetris game on his phone more interesting than whatever this bitch is spewing as he lets out a yawn.

Priya/Ria complains and panics for the next three minutes, and Steve doesn’t spare her a second glance as she grumbles her way out the window. Annoying slut. Speaking of which, Sharon bursts into his room not three seconds after Priya/Ria leaves.

“Baby!” Sharon squeals, launching herself at him at top speed, and Steve holds onto her waist gingerly, letting her cover his face in kisses. “I missed you so much!”

She’d been skiing in Vermont with her family for the past two weeks, and it had been a damn good two weeks for Steve. Quiet and peaceful without his girlfriend’s dumb chatter acting as an incessant background noise to his thoughts. In fact, he wouldn’t have minded if she’d extended her trip and stayed away for another two weeks, because hooking up with other girls sure was a lot easier when she was gone.

“I thought about you every night, babe. I really wish you’d come with me!” She gushes, flipping her blonde hair over her shoulders as she straddles his hips. God. Now he has to make conversation with her and pretend he’s interested in her dumb bullshit family life. How has he been keeping up this act for two years now? I mean sure, Sharon’s a good fuck but she’s not that good.

“I told you, it’s football season.” He yawns, hoping she’ll get the hint and fuck off. Or she could stay, he didn’t really care as long as she kept quiet. But Sharon does the complete opposite, instead launching into a whole account about how he should have been there and how good the snow was and how many new outfits she bought and how many pictures she took and blah blah blah. Honestly, all her mindless chatter does is consolidate the fact that he needs to break up with her soon.

“And I would’ve come up to you sooner but Bucky kept talking to me.” Sharon wrinkles her nose, absentmindedly tracing shapes on his chest before laying her head down on it and snuggling up into him. “I think he has a crush on me.”

Steve snorts at that, “Bucky does not have a crush on you.”

She whips her head up, “What makes you so sure?”

Because me and Bucky have the exact same taste in girls and it’s not you, Steve wants to say but he manages to refrain. “He likes quiet girls,” Steve finds himself saying instead except he’s talking more about himself now, “Shy girls who know their place.”

Sharon rolls her eyes, “All you alphas are stuck in the past, aren’t you?” She sighs before bumping her nose against his, “It’s a good thing I lucked out with you, babe. Can you imagine where we’d be if you hadn’t asked me out sophomore year?”

I’d probably be free, Steve thinks to himself. In many ways, he’d been a different person two years ago when he’d asked Sharon out for the first time. He’d always been traditional, wanting to settle down with the right omega after he graduated, definitely have a few children. And even if he had thought Sharon would be his long-term girlfriend-turned wife by the end of college – he certainly didn’t think that anymore.

Nope, Sharon wouldn’t be the one he’d be marrying, she was useful for a good fuck now and again but nothing more than that, not wife material. She definitely wouldn’t be the omega who would eventually carry his children and his legacy.

And then for some unexplained reason, Steve’s mind shifts to you. How shy you were in class, how you kept to yourself with your eyes downcast. He may have falsely labelled you as the campus slut but he was sure you were a virgin, or extremely inexperienced at the very least. And then an image flashes through his mind: you, all knocked up and round with his baby. In a pretty dress of his choosing, cooking him dinner with an obedient smile on your face. Fuck. He feels his cock harden almost immediately.

“Ooh, you missed me, didn’t you?” Sharon sits back up and grinds down on his crotch with a mischievous smile on her face. “I can’t believe you went without sex for two whole weeks. It must’ve been torture for you.”

“You can’t even imagine.” Steve says distractedly. Sharon’s pulling his sweats down and undressing herself but he’s still got his mind on you. God, you’d look so sexy if he got you pregnant. He wouldn’t allow you to wear your stupid hoodies anymore. No, it would be all skirts and dresses – how an omega is supposed to dress. And then he’d bend you over and fuck you real good, like you’ve never been fucked before. Or maybe he’d let you ride him, all pregnant and weepy and shy on top of him, your eyes shining like you worship him…

He's painfully hard now, and Sharon’s jerking him off while he pretends it’s you. You, all innocent and unsure of what you’re doing. Looking up at him and begging him to tell you how to do it, how to please your alpha. You’re a stupid, no-good scholarship omega who is clearly below his league, but in this moment all Steve can think about it how goddamn fucking sexy you’d look holding his cock, or sucking it – or sitting on it.

“Mm, keep going, baby.” Steve murmurs, pretending like you’re in front of him right now instead of his insufferable girlfriend. “Make daddy feel good.”

He’s so deep into his daydream that he doesn’t even notice that Sharon is fully undressed until he feels her line the tip of his dick against her leaking hole. He manages to swat her off just in time, reaching out to rummage through his nightstand drawer and tossing a condom at her.

Sharon’s face falls before she scoffs, “You know, I wouldn’t mind if you didn’t use protection. You never used to.”

“Just put it on.” Steve isn’t in the mood for her bullshit. If he fucked her raw, then she’d most likely get pregnant. Then he’d have to marry her and take care of her – which wouldn’t be ideal, especially since he’s now planning on breaking up with her. But he’s happy he’s trained Sharon well enough to know when he’s not fucking around. Without another word, she unrolls the condom onto his dick before sinking down on it, moaning like a fucking porn-star as she does it.

He flips her over so she’s on her hands and knees and he doesn’t have to look at her. This way, it’s easier to imagine that it’s you. And Steve’s now accepted the fact that if he wants to get off, he’s going to have to think of you. Fuck, he bets you’d cry if he ever fucked you. Either cry or pass out from how good he’d make you feel. He bets you’d beg him to knot you, to give you his babies. And he would. Fuck.

Sharon lets out a moan and a string of curse words along with his name, and Steve has to forcibly shove her face into the pillow to zone her out. Because all he really wants to do is picture you. Fuck, he wishes he could cum inside you, hear you squeak and moan while he completely ruins you for any other man. Except there wouldn’t be any other man because you belong to Steve.

Mine, he thinks with gritted teeth, picturing your nervous little smile when you’d entered the lecture hall that morning, all mine.

***

“A little birdie told me that that little omega is only a freshman.” Bucky says, perking Steve’s interest immediately as they walk into their World Politics lecture a few days later. “Which means she’s either really fucking smart to be taking a senior class, or she fucked her way up.”

“She definitely fucked her way into the class,” Steve finds himself saying, “Omegas aren’t smart, so there’s no way she’d have gotten into the class otherwise.” He feels a wave of irritation, however. A freshman. In a senior class. And an omega, no less. There was no way, no fucking way.

And there you are again, sitting front row with all your pens lined out in front of you like some stupid, eager omega. His nose twitches, trying to sniff your addictive scent but it seems that whatever cheap suppressant you’re taking is extra strong today, because he can’t detect it at all. And this irritates him even more, because, embarrassing as it was, he’d been looking forward to spending the lecture smelling your goddamn fucking scent.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Bucky pipes up when they cross by your table, and you look up immediately. And Steve can feel his heart in his fucking throat because you make direct eye contact with him and not Bucky. The brunette seems unperturbed, however, “I’m Bucky. This is Sam, and this is Steve.”

You look up and nod at each of them. “Hi, Bucky. Hi, Sam. Hello, Steve.”

For a moment, it feels like Steve’s in heaven. And it’s the fucking cheesiest thing in the world, but it’s in the way you say his name. All soft and shy and clearly self-conscious yet in an extremely cute way. Fuck, what was he, fifteen years old? He doesn’t care, though, he wants to hear you say his name again. And preferably not whilst also saying his friends’ names in the same sentence.

And it irritates him that Bucky spoke to you first. Steve had seen you first therefore it only made sense that he should’ve spoken to you first too. It also irritates him how close Bucky and Sam are standing to you, and how you’re shooting them a small smile right this instant.

Steve is silently seething, and Bucky and Sam are grinning at you like you’re some kind of spectacle. You tell them your name (and his heart skips a beat when he hears it, because it fits you perfectly and he feels like he’s known this name all his life).

And then, no one speaks for a while, and he sees you shift slightly, clearly uncomfortable as you bite your lip. For a second, he wishes he could read your mind, but it doesn’t matter because you have the world’s most emotive face. He can practically see your thoughts as they race through your head. He knows that you’re intimidated by him, by all three of them – but that’s nothing new. And then you open your mouth to speak.

“H-How are you guys finding this class so far?” You ask in a voice sweet as honey. And Steve hates how other alphas around the room have whipped their heads towards you again. He hates how Sam’s features have softened as he looks you over, and he hates how Bucky’s got that predatory look in his eye again, the same one he had last time. He knows he has to do something. Fast.

“Funny, we were going to ask you the same thing.” Steve says, and you blink up at him.

“Me? I, uh, I really like it.” You say shyly, and he can tell that you have trouble maintaining eye contact with him but you try your best as you continue, “Some of the concepts are challenging, but I’m really enjoying it.”

“Oh, I bet you’re really enjoying it.” Steve grins, pointedly glancing at the professor before fixing his gaze back on you, innuendo dripping from his tone. Bucky catches on and chuckles, as does Sam.

You look confused, “Um, I don’t understand–”

Sam snorts, “Don’t play dumb.”

“Is it the class you’re enjoying, sweetheart, or what happens after it?” Bucky joins in.

You shake your head, “I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

And sure, there’s a voice at the back of Steve’s head telling him to quit it and back off. That sensible voice that shows its face from time to time, telling him that you don’t deserve this at all. But he chooses to ignore it, and maybe it’s because he’s been irritated ever since he found out you’re a fucking freshman omega in a senior class where you don’t belong. Or since Bucky spoke to you first before Steve could, and he could see that interest in Bucky’s eyes. Either way, he ignores the voice of rationality in his head. He’s Steve fucking Rogers, after all. He can say whatever he wants to.

“Wearing grossly oversized outfits to hide your body won’t hide the fact that you’re a slut.” Steve says it softly, but everyone hears it. And he doesn’t think he’ll ever forget the way your head whips up to look at him, the way your lower lip quivers and the way your breath hitches.

“Wh-What? I’m not a… a–”

“A slut? Come on. Everyone knows you spread your legs to get into this class. That’s probably why you sit in the front row, too. So the professor can get a good eyeful of the campus slut before you got to his office after class.” Steve smirks, although it isn’t very satisfying to see your face crumple at his words, and he feels a pang of guilt that he tries his hardest to ignore. You shake your head.

“No! I didn’t–”

“Omegas like you don’t belong in a class like this,” Sam pipes up, and you bow your head. Steve can see your hands trembling under the table as you clasp them in your lap. And God, you look so small, so weak in your big fucking hoodie that nearly swallows you whole. You look like you’re begging for an alpha like him to protect you. But what’s he supposed to protect you from – himself?

He watches you for the rest of the class. You sit there, determinedly taking notes as if three alphas didn’t just embarrass and insult you at the start of the lecture. You don’t ever raise your hand to answer any questions, but Steve can tell that you know all the answers. It’s the way you mouth them cutely, the way you nod when the correct answer is said – as if you knew it all along. It’s the way your nose scrunches in concentration as you read every word of the lecture slides before writing it all down. In a way, he admires your persistence and devotion to your goddamned notes. Omegas are known to be devoted – but to their alphas, not World fucking Politics lectures.

You still look morose and deflated by the time the lecture ends, taking ages to slowly pack your book bag. Sam and Bucky leave, but Steve hangs back. Talk to her! The voice in his head urges him. Tell her you mistook her for someone else, tell her you didn’t mean it! Ask her out! And he lets himself imagine it for a second, asking you out on a date. Picking you up and presenting you with yellow roses, taking you to a restaurant that’s way too fancy for you, and you’d probably be wearing that goddamn hoodie, too.

He almost smiles, before shaking the thought away. I’m not that pathetic, he thinks. Some random scholarship omega isn’t worth taking on a date. There’s a peculiar longing within him but he stuffs it deeper down inside himself. Girls long for him, not the other way around and it’s best if he remembers that.

That doesn’t stop him from following you out of the lecture hall, however. It’s cute, the way you lug your bookbag on your shoulder. You’ve stocked it so full of unnecessary textbooks that it’s weighing you down like a tonne of rocks. His hands itch to help you, but he has to hang back because you don’t know he’s there, and also because you’re now on the phone.

He can’t hear what you’re saying, or who you’re on the phone with. But after a few minutes, your shoulders prop up and the pep in your step returns. Whoever is on the other end of the line – probably a friend or your mom – has managed to cheer you up. He gets close enough to hear you say:

“Yes. I’m going to try harder to make friends. Don’t you worry about me!”

It’s sickening. How cute you sound. And it’s even more sickening how he finds himself following you all the way back to your dorm room, keeping his head low and a small distance between the two of you. And sure, he’s never fucking stalked a girl before and this is definitely unhinged behaviour, but it’s like he can’t help it.

And it’s kind of fun observing you. At one point, you stop in front of a rose bush to smell the delicate flowers. Steve thinks back to how he’d imagined asking you out and giving you a bouquet of yellow roses. He lets himself imagine some more: you bringing the bouquet up to your nose and inhaling gently, a pretty smile on your face as you stand up on your tiptoes to kiss him and tell him thank you.

The picture sits pretty in his mind for a good ten seconds, a smile touching his lips before he aggressively wipes it off. Stop being a sappy fucking loser, he tells himself, before refocusing on his omega. You’re making your way into your dorm building now – it’s one of the cheaper ones on campus. The dorms in there are about the size of postage stamps, and it makes him think of everything he could provide for you: money, clothes, gifts – anything you asked for.

Ask her out! The voice inside his head is beguiling. If he asked you out, he would no longer have to deal with Sharon. If he asked you out, Bucky and the rest of them would all back the fuck up. So then what was stopping him? What was stopping him from marching straight into your stupid tiny fucking dorm room and telling you that he’d pick you up tomorrow at 7 for dinner?

She’s below my fucking league, he reminds himself, although that excuse seems to be getting flimsier and flimsier. He’s distracted from his inner turmoil, however, when he sees you appear in your room through your window. You neatly place your bag on your desk before pulling your hoodie over your head. Steve’s breath catches in his throat, and he watches closely as your tank top is next, joining your hoodie on the floor.

Steve’s lost count of how many girls he’s seen naked in his lifetime, but none of them hold a candle to what he’s seeing right now. The way you slip your leggings down, stepping out of them, now just in your bra and panties. Fuck, you’re so sexy. So fucking sexy, and he can feel himself getting rock hard. And half of him wants to reprimand you, chastise you for being so fucking stupid to be changing without drawing your curtains first. He should take you over his fucking knee for that…

But the other half of him just stands there, transfixed. You wriggle into a tee, your legs still bare and your cute ass on display for a few more seconds before you put on a pair of pyjama shorts. It’s when you sit down on your desk which is facing the window, that he finally backs off. Forcibly ripping his gaze away from you and walking away, the vision of you ingrained deeply in his head.

That night, in the privacy of his shower, he cums harder than he ever has before. Just the sight of you changing replaying over and over again in his brain. Nobody has ever had such an effect on him before, and he wonders what this means. Even after he’s jacked off, he can’t seem to shake you out of his mind. It’s like his eyes are itching to just see you again, drink you in again.

Finally, from the depths of one of his drawers, Steve pulls out an old sketchbook that his mother had bought for him on one of his birthdays. She was the only one who knew that he could draw, and she kept encouraging him to do it despite the fact that Steve hadn’t touched an art supply for years now. But it’s like his fingers are itching to put the images in his head down on paper.

And once he starts drawing, it’s like he can’t stop. It comes so naturally to him, like he’s known your face for years and committed it to his memory. He draws you sitting front row during the lecture, trying his hardest to capture that look of concentration on your face, the furrow of your brow, the way you bite your lip. He even draws you in your ridiculously oversized hoodie, how it practically swallows you whole. And he finds himself smiling at how cute you look in it – despite the fact that omegas aren’t supposed to wear things like that.

One thing becomes abundantly clear to Steve that night. He wants you. He wants to own you. He doesn’t want you to belong to anybody else, not now and not ever. But aren’t you out of his league? So then what? Just fuck her once and get her out of your system, he tries to tell himself. But would that be enough? Girls have always been easy subjects for Steve, but for the first time in his life, he finds himself confused, and his thoughts seem to be at war with each other.

It's only been a week since he first laid eyes on you but it’s like he can’t get you out of his head. He wants you to be his, yet at the same time he can’t believe that he’s fallen for some random scholarship omega. Fallen? No, he hasn’t fallen for you. It’s just lust. Just lust. Just. Lust.

It has to be, right?

***

The next World Politics lecture falls on a Friday – and it’s been three whole days since Steve has last seen you. Three torturously long days filled with Sharon’s irritating squawking and incessant presence in his room. Steve finds that she no longer makes him hard, and every time he fucks her, he finds himself longing for you in her place. You wouldn’t howl so annoyingly when you came, or scratch at his back like a stupid bitch. Actually, he wouldn’t mind if you scratched his back while he fucked you dumb into the mattress, your eyes glazed over and tears running down your cheeks as he knots inside you again and again.

And that’s what Steve’s daydreaming about before the start of the lecture, when he feels a light tap on his shoulder.

“Ex-Excuse me?”

He turns around and his heart skips a beat. You. In a huge green hoodie, almost eye level to him despite the fact that he’s sitting down and you’re standing up. Fuck, you look really cute, all shy as you shift your weight from one foot to the other. And Steve isn’t used to girls coming up to him. He knows he’s very intimidating, as are Bucky and Sam, who have now also turned to gawk at the little omega standing in front of the three of them.

Steve doesn’t know what to do, because up until a second ago he was in the middle of imagining you naked underneath him while he fucked you so hard you saw stars. And now here you are, standing before him with a Tupperware container in your hands, looking uncomfortable and shy as ever.

“Look who it is, Little Miss Campus Slut.” Sam is the first to speak.

Steve watches you blink and take a deep breath before you speak. “H-Hello, Steve. Sam. Bucky.” You nod at each of them, and Steve doesn’t think he’ll ever get over the sound of you saying his name – he just wishes he wasn’t lumped in with his friends every time.

“I th-think we – uh – I think we all got off on the wrong foot last time,” Your voice shakes as you speak, and Steve finds your stutter kind of cute. “I kn-know you guys were probably joking but, I – uh…” You swallow, and Steve has to admire your guts. He can tell you’re practically shitting yourself with how nervous you look. You shake your head and smile softly, “I made these. For you. I mean, all three of you. As a kind of peace offering.”

You open the Tupperware container and hold it out towards him. Inside, there are about a dozen brownies, cut into neat little squares. The smell alone is heavenly, and he can see that some of them have pieces of caramel oozing out. From his peripheral, he can see Bucky lick his lips.

“I baked them this morning,” You say proudly, “A friend of mine told me that there’s nothing a batch of brownies can’t solve. So, these are for you, and maybe now we could be friends?”

Sweet, naïve, innocent. God, you’re everything Steve wants in a girl. And for a second, he lets his thoughts run wild again. This time, he imagines you baking brownies for him – solely him – in a big house he’s bought for the two of you. You’re heavily pregnant and wearing a cherry print apron, and you sit on his lap while you serve him the freshly baked brownies. An alpha and his little omega, knocked up and completely devoted to him. A perfect family. The perfect life.

Which is why it makes little sense when he slaps his hand upwards, knocking the container out of your hand and sending the brownies flying everywhere, landing on the floor in a sorry heap by your feet. Sam and Bucky burst out laughing, and Steve smiles coolly, although he doesn’t really feel like smiling on the inside. Why did he do that?

Because she’s a stupid scholarship omega, and I can do whatever I want, he answers his own question but even he has to admit that his reasoning is less than satisfactory.

Your eyes widen in shock before your face crumples, “Wh-Why would you do that?”

Steve shrugs, “It’s not very nice of you to try and feed us your weird, contaminated brownies. I mean, we don’t know where your hands have been, do we? Oh wait, we do.” He looks pointedly at the professor at the front of the room before looking back at you, a smug smile on his face that he tries hard not to let falter when he sees the tears welling up in the corners of your eyes.

“I worked re-really hard on those.” You look like you’ve wilted, and there’s that one part deep inside him – maybe his soul? – telling him how fucked up he is for doing what he’s just done. But it’s just a joke, he justifies to himself.

“Don’t get all emotional just because we don’t want your STD brownies.” Steve says, trying hard to keep stone-faced as he watches you flinch and gasp at his words.

“I-I-I don’t have an STD!”

“I-I-I don’t care.” Steve mimics your stutter, making his voice all high-pitched. Sam and Bucky laugh again, along with a bunch of other people who are within earshot. And the look of hurt that crosses your face seems to ingrain itself in his brain, searing him from the inside out till he almost feels sick. Fuck. Why did he keep going?

Because she doesn’t matter, he tells himself. He’s made fun of billions of others in the past, and this shouldn’t be any different, right?

With your lower lip quivering, you swallow back your tears. And he’s surprised when he sees you narrow your eyes at him, “Th-That was really mean.”

And maybe it’s because you’re glaring at him and he doesn’t like that, or maybe it’s because you look so fucking small – standing there with your chin upturned and hands shaking in anger at being wronged. But Steve feels himself getting hard – rock hard. Part of him wants to gather your quivering body in his arms and kiss you and hug you and protect you from it all. But a larger part of him feels this strong need, this hunger, to control you. You look so small, so hurt, so submissive. He can see licks of anger through the tears in your eyes, however, and he wants to snuff it out. Control you completely. Make you bend to his will and listen to his every command.

“Y-You shouldn’t have done that.” You say quietly and Steve narrows his eyes.

“Shouldn’t have done what, omega?” He chews the word around, savours it before spitting it out, and he loves how your eyes widen at being called by your designation. He’s never called anyone by their designation before, and the surge of power he feels over you when he does? Fuck, it’s irreplaceable.

“Th-That’s not my name.” You try and stand your ground but really, it’s not like you’re any match for him. “Don’t call me that – p-please.”

“Why not? That’s what you are, after all. Your name doesn’t matter to me – whatever it is.” (He knows exactly what your name is, because he’s spent the past few days thinking about how great it would sound if you put his last name next to it, but that’s beside the point).

“And I don’t think you’re in any position to tell me what to do, omega.” He adds smoothly, noting how you bow your head in submission, but there are still angry tears glistening in your eyes and he can see your hands balled into fists by your sides, and you’re opening your mouth as if to argue with him. Snuff it out, he tells himself, snuff out any fight she has left in her.

“Don’t think you can talk back to an alpha. Just because you fucked your way into college doesn’t mean the rest of us are going to give you special treatment.” He says, every one of his words dripping in acid. And he wonders how far he can take it, how much further he can control you…

“Now, I want you to keep your mouth shut, walk back over to your seat and sit down and remain silent for the rest of the class.” He orders you before shooting you a smirk. “Now.”

He watches your eyes widen when you realise that it’s an alpha command, and then you’re walking away, head down and an empty Tupperware container in your hand. And the pure power trip Steve gets from it all has adrenaline and excitement pumping through his veins and straight down to his cock. Fuck. He’s never alpha-commanded an omega like this before. Sharon sometimes but it’s never been as gratifying as this.

It's in your stance, how weak and little you look as you walk dejectedly back to your seat. You’ve listened to him, and the power he gets from that is unbeatable. And addicting. He wants to feel it again. Sure, he’s always been domineering with girls but with you, it’s different. You’re different. So perfect and shy, so pretty and submissive… Fuck, he’s so hard now.

He leans back in his seat, staring at you while you get your books out with shaky hands. That’s when he notices that you’re crying, your hands keep reaching up to wipe your eyes with the sleeve of your hoodie and your shoulders quiver uncontrollably. Shit. Steve had made you cry, and his heart pangs with guilt. But it’s confusing, because there’s a dark part of him that’s so turned on right now, that wants to lick your tears up then embarrass you some more. Then you’d cry some more and he’d push you down to your knees, shove his cock in your mouth and really give you something to cry about.

But he also wants to gather you in his arms, hold you in his lap and comfort you. Tell you that he didn’t mean it, that he doesn’t know why he’s doing all this. Well, he does know why – but sometimes he isn’t convinced by his own rationale. Control you. Comfort you. Control you. Comfort you. Control you–

“Hey, these are pretty good.” Bucky’s voice knocks Steve out of his reverie, and he looks down to see his friend scooping up pieces of brownie off the ground.

Sam groans, “Please tell me you’re not eating the floor-brownies.”

“What? They’re good!” Bucky defends himself with a mouthful of the sweet treat. “Shit, you know what? I wouldn’t even mind getting an STD. I think she’s worth it. So fucking hot and she bakes too? I wonder what else she can do.”

Steve rolls his eyes, wanting nothing more than to punch Bucky in the skull for calling his omega hot. Because of course, Steve’s already consolidated in his mind that you’re his. He just has to figure out what exactly he wants from you. For now, however, he’s content with staring at you from afar, and imagining how pretty you’d look baking brownies for him and bending over while he made you cum on his knot over and over again.

***

“You know, I’d let you mark me if you wanted to.” Sharon says one day, out of nowhere. Steve’s walking her to one of her classes (or more like, she’d seen him walking with his friends and dragged him away).

Steve barks out a laugh, “Why the fuck would I do that?”

“Why wouldn’t you? We’re both seniors, about to graduate and we’re in a serious, committed relationship.” Sharon squeezes his hand, and Steve feels a sudden urge to throw up. What a dumb fucking idiot Sharon was, as if he’d ever mark her. He’s still trying to figure out how to break up with her – he absolutely hates talking to her and he doesn’t even consider her a good fuck anymore. She’s lucky he’s kept her around for this long, yet has the audacity to talk about marking.

“You shouldn’t be thinking about things like that.” He says, hoping to drop the subject but of course, she doesn’t seem to want to let it go.

“Come on, babe. I remember back when we first started going out, you told me that you wanted to marry me and have a ton of kids! I remember thinking how cute you sounded when you said that.”

Steve doesn’t even have the energy to correct her. Sure, he’d said that he was a traditional alpha just like his father. He wanted to get married young and have kids young too. However, he’d never mentioned wanting all of this with Sharon, but of course the dumb bitch had selective hearing and liked to make stuff up, but that wasn’t Steve’s fault.

He lets her talk for the duration of their walk up to her lecture, and all he contributes is a disinterested grunt now and again. But Sharon loves the sound of her own voice, so she doesn’t seem to notice his lack of interest in conversing with her. Finally, outside her lecture hall, she stands up on her tiptoes to give him a kiss. And it’s while he’s kissing his girlfriend that Steve feels a prickle in the back of his neck. Almost like he’s being watched.

He opens his eyes, looking straight ahead beyond Sharon’s shoulder. And there you are, sitting in the courtyard. You look like a fucking angel, bathing in the sunlight that peaks out at you through the branches of the tree you’re sat underneath. And you’ve got this almost curious look on your face as you watch him kiss his girlfriend. He makes eye contact with you for about five magical seconds before you realise that he’s watching you, all while his lips move against Sharon’s.

Quickly, you bury your nose in the book you’re reading, and he can see your eyes widening in alarm. Somehow, he knows your heart’s racing – because his is too. And he feels this longing for you, wishing so bad that it was you he was kissing instead of Sharon. But you’d been watching him! What did that mean? Maybe you liked him how he likes you?

I don’t like her! He tells himself stubbornly, she’s below my league… But he doesn’t know who he’s kidding with that excuse anymore.

Bidding Sharon goodbye, he can’t help but feel this gravitational pull, tugging him over to you. For a second, he imagines sitting down next to you, asking you what you’re reading and watching as you happily tell him. And he’d be interested in what you have to say, because you’re not a stupid bitch like Sharon or any of the other girls on campus. You’re special. And so beautiful.

He watches as you slowly lose yourself in whatever book you’re reading, and you’ve got a fucking juice-box next to you which you sip on every so often. God, could you be any cuter? You look so innocent, and for one dark second, he wishes he could just take you and lock you up in his house. You’d be safe over there, inside the house and away from any college like a good, traditional little omega. And he’d buy you a whole library full of books to keep you happy, and you’d cook and clean and dote on him and carry his babies, and that would make him happy.

Steve finds himself walking over, casting a shadow over your figure as he looms above you, and you look up at him fearfully. Fuck. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get over the way you’re looking at him right now. Like you’re wary, scared – like he’s this formidable alpha that could completely ruin you – which is all true.

“Well, well, well. Look who it is.” He says softly, and you gulp.

“H-Hello, Steve.” You attempt a smile but you’re shaking like a leaf. And he’s surprised that you’re still greeting him nicely despite how horrible he was to you in the last lecture.

“What are you doing?” He asks, but it comes out sounding like a demand.

“Just reading.” You answer, and he can see that you’re trying to hide your shaking hands. The book rests open in your lap, and you look so sweet, sitting down by his feet. It makes him imagine nasty things, like wanting to pull you forward by your hair, make you mouth at his crotch in front of everyone in this courtyard, make you beg for his alpha cock before he shoves it down past your quivering lips.

Which is why it doesn’t make much sense when, in one fluid motion, he steps down hard on your juice-box, the liquid spurting out and splattering all over your top, and the open book too, immediately leaving large, blotchy stains on both.

“Oh no!” You lament, panic overtaking your features as you immediately begin to fan out the book, shaking it and trying to get the water out. But all Steve can focus on is your wet top – it’s oversized but it’s not a hoodie, at least – and the way it clings to your skin. You’re so fucking hot, and you don’t even realise it – you seem more preoccupied by the damn book.

“It was a library book!” You say quietly, tears forming in your eyes and Steve feels another pang of guilt because he’s made you cry again. “I can’t… I can’t afford…” Your voice trails off.

Steve smirks, “You can’t afford to replace the book, can you?” It consolidates every assumption he’d made about you. You come from nothing and you’re a no one, with your hand-me-down clothes and DIY bookbag. He truly could give you anything and everything you’d ever want, and he lets himself imagine it. Him buying you bags and bags of clothes, helping you put them on, dressing you up like his own little doll that smells sweet like magnolias and is devoted to him. He bets you’d be so thankful – you’re not used to any kind of riches after all – and you’d worship him in return.

And all of this gives him an idea. A way to exert even more control over you, and give you a bit in return too. Grabbing his wallet from his jacket pocket, he fishes out a hundred-dollar bill. You’re too busy trying to shake the liquid off your book that you don’t even notice it when he reaches forward and tucks the crisp note into the hemline of your top.

You gasp, “What’s… What’re you doing?”

“You know that report we have due next week, don’t you?” Steve muses, scanning your face carefully. He sees your throat bob as you swallow, hanging onto his every word as you hold the hundred-dollar bill between your fingers gingerly. “Why don’t you do mine for me, omega?”

Your eyes widen and you shake your head, “Th-That’s dishonest! And I have my own report to do–” You try to hand him the money back but he bats your hand away. And he knows he could easily use an alpha-command on you and make you exactly what he asks of you, just like how he made you walk away in the lecture last time after the brownie incident.

But he craves true control over you, and maybe he can manipulate you? Mould your pretty little mind into wanting to please him? He knows you’re biologically wired to please him; your base omega desires want nothing more than to make an alpha proud – he knows that. He could play into that, use that. Manipulate you, and find out just how far he can take this sweet control over you.

“Come on, omega, I really think you should do my report.” Steve keeps his voice even, his eyes boring into yours with intensity, and you look like you’re about to melt under his gaze. “Otherwise, you’ll disappoint me. And you don’t want to disappoint me, do you?

Almost as if you’re hypnotised, you shake your head no. And Steve can’t believe how easy this is, and he wonders whether his scent smells good to you, and whether it has any effect on you. It must do… because you look like you’re about to turn into putty in his hands.

“B-But it’s cheating.” You whisper.

“That doesn’t matter. You’re going to do my report for me, and you’re going to put all your effort into it. Because at the end of the day, that’s the only thing an omega like you is good for. Pleasing an alpha. You want to please me, don’t you?”

He loves how he can practically read every single thought that crosses inside that pretty little head of yours. He loves the look of conflict on your face, how you’re trying to fight against your base desires. It makes him feel powerful, strong – how someone can have that much control over another human being, it thrills him.

Finally, you nod, and whisper a delicate “okay” that goes straight to Steve’s dick. You’re so beautiful and submissive, he can’t help but reach out to tap your cheek condescendingly. What a good girl, he wants to say, but that would be overdoing it. Instead, he just smirks and leaves, loving how you sit there, stunned and with the hundred still between your thumb and forefinger.

He goes home that day and jerks off thinking about you and all the power he exerted over you today. How easy it was to make you cry, then manipulate you into doing exactly what he wanted you to. He pumps his dick to the thought of how innocent you are, how sweet and pretty and how you’re everything he’s ever wanted in a girl – he just didn’t know it until now.

He also thinks about what you’re going to do with the money he gave you. Replacing the library book wouldn’t cost that much, and he hopes you spend the rest of the hundred on clothes or jewellery for yourself. That way, it would be like he bought something for you, he bought it for you and now you’re wearing it on your skin. Something he bought. Because you belong to Steve. And then he cums hard, slapping the bathroom wall so hard that one of the tiles chips.

Then, he cleans off and gets his sketchbook out. He draws you sitting under the tree with your little juice-box. He makes sure to make the drawing as detailed as possible, down to the top you were wearing and the way you looked so engrossed in your book. At the last second, he adds one more detail. A jagged mark on the side of your neck. His mark. Then he slams his sketchbook shut and buries it under his bed.

You give Steve his finished report only two days later, at the start of the next lecture. Quietly, you scurry up to him and wordlessly hold out the typed-up paper placed neatly in a binder. He snatches it from you, making sure to remain stone-faced except you don’t even make eye-contact with him – which is mildly irritating. But he guesses you’re too scared of him, and this proves to be true because you quickly walk back to your seat as soon as he takes the report from you.

Sam whistles lowly, “Out of everyone in this class, you made the slut omega do your paper?”

“Good luck redoing the whole thing, unless you want an F.” Bucky adds.

Steve opens the report to scan through it, and the hundred-dollar bill flutters out from where it was tucked in the first page. Huh. You’d returned the money. His heart can’t help but sink, because here he was trying to help you and you’d thrown it back in his face. Curiously, he watches you in your usual seat in the front row. You’re texting someone on your phone and he feels a wave of jealousy. Was there someone else taking care of you? A boyfriend?

He pushes that thought out of his mind as soon as it enters it. No. You’re too sweet, too pure to have a boyfriend. You’re a lonely little omega, and the only person who talks to you on campus is Steve. That’s how he’s painted you in his head and that’s what you are.

But now he wants to find out more about you. And it’s easy enough, going to the admin office and flirting with one of the secretaries. Easily noting down the password to the computer that had all the freshman student details on it, and when the giggling secretary excused herself to go to the bathroom, he quickly typed in your name.

And all your information pops up on the screen in front of him. Home address (some random, desolate hick-town, just as he suspected), your phone number (he quickly saves it on his phone) as well as your mother’s contact details. No father. Interesting. It meant you probably had some sort of daddy issues that Steve could undoubtedly take advantage of in the future.

Back in his own room, Steve stares at your number on his phone. He could easily call you right this instant, or text you. He could thank you for doing his report and offer to take you out. And then he’d show up at your doorstep with a bouquet of yellow roses, take you to the most expensive restaurant in town and then he’d drive up to a great spot he knows, where the two of you could stargaze and then he’d kiss you for the first time before taking you to the backseat of his car and making love to you, all soft and sweet – because you’re soft and sweet.

Steve has to forcibly push these sappy thoughts out of his head. He’s not a lovesick fifteen-year-old kid, for fucksakes! He’s an alpha, way above the league of some small, hick-town omega who comes from a broken home. It’s just lust, he reminds himself, lust and control. That’s all you want with her, Steve. Remember that.

Weeks go by where Steve doesn’t miss a chance when it comes to bullying you. It’s just an extremely easy thing to do, despite the fact that sometimes, it feels like he’s putting his heart through a shredder when he sees you bow your head and cry. Why can’t he just leave you alone? Why is he so goddamned obsessed with you?

He stares at you a lot, too. And sometimes, he finds you staring back at him before you quickly look away. She has a crush on me, too! He thinks to himself before shaking his head and trying to focus on something else. But he can’t. You’re everywhere. Even when he hooks up with other girls now, he picks ones out who have the same features as you. Same hair colour, same skin-tone. That way, it’s easier to pretend it’s you when he’s fucking them from behind.

But it’s not you. You’d be so much better. So much sweeter, so much more subservient. And Steve wants you so bad, it’s starting to become a physical need.

He, along with Bucky and Sam, sit in the row behind you on the day everyone gets their graded reports back. He does it so he can catch another whiff of your scent which he hasn’t smelled since the first day he saw you. But to no avail – your suppressants are too fucking strong and this irritates him no end.

Bucky and Sam spend the lecture poking fun at you, juvenile jokes which Steve doesn’t even find funny despite the fact that he’s the one who started the whole ‘campus slut’ movement in the first place.

But from his position behind you, he can see you type in your passcode to unlock your phone, and subconsciously he commits it to his memory. He wonders who you text and call, what friends you have. Ever since he looked you up on the computer system, he just wants to know every single thing about you. And he knows he’s acting like a fucking creep – sometimes he has the strong urge to just grab you and smell you, smell your hair and your neck and just bury his nose into you. It’s insane. No other girl has made him feel like this, but it’s like he can’t help it.

Steve gets an A+ on his report, and when he glances at you holding your own paper, he sees you got an A+ too. Which means you submitted two top tier research papers. A smart omega, he thinks to himself. And he hates that you’re smart. Well, he admires you for it but he hates that he admires it. Because you shouldn’t be here writing reports on world politics. No, you should be inside a kitchen. Or in his bed.

He watches you smile and clasp your hands together, clearly happy with your grade. And he hangs back again, waiting for Bucky and Sam to leave at the end of the lecture before he approaches you.

“Congratulations, omega. Did you let the professor put it up your ass so he’d give you the highest grade in class?” Steve asks nonchalantly.

But this time, you don’t even protest against his lie, or even look at him. No, you keep your gaze diverted, staring intensely at the floor before you scrunch your eyes up. Shit. You’re well and truly afraid of him – he can practically see you shaking. And is it possible to feel bad yet get hard at the same time? Steve doesn’t know anymore, he’s always hard when he’s in your presence.

He watches you scurry away, looking intimidated beyond belief. And as you leave, you accidentally brush up against him. Your whole body, brushing up against his front, and Steve feels like someone’s kicked him in the fucking balls because it winds him. His heart seems to skip several beats and he feels like he can’t breathe.

Your body had only made contact with his for a few seconds at most, but he can’t believe the effect it had on him. Your soft little body, like a boost of serotonin straight to his heart. And his cock. Fuck. You practically half-run out of the room in a bid to get away from him, and you have no fucking clue that you’ve left him reeling. He’s 6’6 and weighs about 240 pounds but an unassuming little omega has almost knocked him off his feet.

And this incenses him. It embarrasses him. It confuses him.

I need to fuck her; he thinks to himself. I need to feel her again. Claim her. Make her mine.

Maybe then I’ll get her out of my system once and for all.

A/N: And there we go! i know yall may be a bit disappointed since this does not advance the plot at all and nothing really happened but!! this is just meant to be an insight into Steve’s head!! i know a lot of you want to know what he was thinking so here you go!! I do want to note that he DOES come across as a fucking psycho askfsdajkfn but he’s a dark character what can i say??? He develops a lot from here tho! ANYWAYS, please leave feedback, i’d love to know what you think! I hope you enjoyed!! bye dhfsdnk

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #dark steve rogers #mcu #steve rogers fanfiction #chris evans x reader

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goldsbitch · 3 months

Text

I gave so many signs

summary: First unrequited love is not the one to ever leave your mind. Y/N looks back at her missed connection with Charles Leclerc from the time they were just teenagers and regrets having him slip away.

song fic (disclaimer: rights belong to the respectable owners)

exile - Taylor Swift Lie to me - 5 Seconds of Summer (feat. Julia Michaels) Worst of you - Maisie Peters

warning: Present time, the past

Coming back home to Monaco always brought a sour smile to her face. She loved growing up in this strange small town where everyone knew each other and celebrities came to show off and then went back to wherever, to tell stories of Monte Carlo.

They say that you get to experience three very different real loves in your lifetime - and only if you're lucky, it would be with the same person. Her first love was Charles Leclerc.

I saw you lookin' brand new overnight I caught you lookin' too, but you didn't look twice

Visiting family was the reason why she always came back, but going out with the few girls from high school who stayed there was a treat she dared not to miss. There is just something about hanging out with those people who helped one buy the first eyeshadow and with whom she pregamed at one of their step dad's dermatology office before going on trying to get into any club that would allow minors in. So there she was once again, at the old time spot, having a harder time to hold her alcohol since she'd passed the magic non hangover years. And to her luck, he walked in only a bare half an hour later than her.

Whenever she saw him, even after those years, it was like everyone else had dissapeared from the room. He seemed to age like wine.

It's 3 AM and the moonlight's testing me I know that you've been holding on to someone else And now I can't sleep

"Come here to me," she teased, moving closer to him. He tried to stop her and playfully pushed himself the furthest away possible the couch would allow. "Charlie, let me see!" she insisted and sat on top of him. She had to act quickly, there would be no way for her to keep the upper hand. He was just turning eighteen soon and the time in gym was starting to bring back results. "I do not have any hairline, Y/N," he gasped, annoyed. His tone changed. Back then she interpreted it as just him being done with her shit. Looking at it now, there probably was a different reason why he became more stiff. She sat on him, going through his hair and taking few photos, blissfully unaware. "I'll show this to you in a few years and we'll see! Ha!" Charles eyes were shooting arrows in her direction. She looked back at him, curious and not grasping the moment in the same way as he did. "What?" she asked simply. "Nothing..."

I can see you standing, honey With his arms around your body Laughin', but the joke's not funny at all

She laughed a bit at that memory as she sipped her drink and tried her best to avoid keeping looking back at him as he sat with his current friends and an absolute gorgeous girl laughing at his joke. She knew who she was. Sometimes she peaked at his socials and then blocked him again right away. She certainly knew he had her blocked.

They went to different schools and Charles had his racing activities anyway. So they'd spent a lot of time texting. A lot.

It was just one of the horrifically long school days where she doubted the point of her existence. Life had to be more than sitting in a pointless computer science class. She wanted to be a big lawyer girl boss one day, so why would she ever care about programming. There she was, staring at the assignment from the teacher who was stuck in 20th century anyway, having little to no clue what to do. As she'd usually do, she texted Charles. Bombed him with twenty texts demanding attention, before he finally responded. "OMG i thought someone had died" "i am dying charles" "no your not" "*you're" "i can go back to my race simulator if you keep being a little shit" "nooo, please dont go. you're my only hope. sorry, your. i get it, you got out of the school too early." "that's it, i'm gone" "noo, please stay, I'll be nice and say nice things about you" "i'm staying, go on" "you are absolutely gorgeous" "yes, agree. more" "you are soo funny, amazing, future heart breaker and your passion for racing is so inspiring" "i like this. more"

Second, third, and hundredth chances Balancin' on breaking branches Those eyes add insult to injury

They were inseparable, yet nobody knew. Always meeting alone, because they did not need anyone and their social circles didn't really meet together. Whenever he was back in town, the two of them would hit up their favorite café or hang out at his house and then go for a walk. The two of them walked around Monte Carlo as if they were suppose to be the cartographers creating the first map of that area ever. Those were the good old days that came to end very unexpectedly.

We always walked a very thin line You didn't even hear me out (Didn't even hear me out) You never gave a warning sign (I gave so many signs)

His hands were shaking when he sent the email. But he just could not take it anymore. He was over the moon in love with her and didn't know how to contain it.

"there is no easy way to say this. i love you. sorry. i'm stupid and i know we're just friends. but i basically live only for racing and seeing you. i'm terrified of seeing you with someone else. if there is at least a cell in your body that feels the same, please let's meet up and talk about it. if not, do not reply and i will never mention this again and deal with it. i love you."

She was seventeen when she got his message out of the blue. A scared little girl who was petrified of feelings and anything relationship related. So she never replied to his email.

All this time I never learned to read your mind I couldn't turn things around (I couldn't turn things around) 'Cause you never gave a warning sign (You never gave a warning sign)

Charles had a very little hope that she'd feel the same - why would she, such an amazing person, kind, fun and totally glorified in his eyes, so he could not even imagine him being worthy of her. But what if? What if he was enough? With every day when she did not respond to his email, his heart sank lower. Still, the pain of the first rejection is a hard one to take, because it's usually from a scared unexperienced heart to another and the clumsiness causes great deal of accidental collateral damage one remembers until the end of their life.

You're not my homeland anymore So what am I defending now? You were my town, now I'm in exile, seein' you out

She texted him from school few days after that - a normal text, as if nothing happened. Both of them were too chicken to address the situation openly. So he opted for buring his feeling and she for playing like she had no idea. Deep down, she always knew, even before he emailed her. They texted, continued to meet up. But it was never the same again.

Flashing back to New York City I was done, but you undid me Classic me to run when it feels right

It was hard to get closure for her. After all that had happened and the mess the two made for each other was a hard lesson she remembered vividly. She glanced at your first love again - and finally she met his look, after almost two years of managing to missing each other while they were both back in Monaco. She'd daydreamed about bumping into him, the two chatting and smiling again. The world stopped again for few moments. He shot her an unsure quick half smile that said it all. She knew him too well for that.

And now I wish we never met 'Cause you're too hard to forget While I'm cleaning up your mess I know he's taking off your dress

It was her prom night and she could not be more excited. All her friends were here, family, even Charles managed to get in town to watch her dance and drink all night. She had the night of her life, perfect end to end this chapter of life. The excitement her eyes held was contagious. She spent the first half of her evening with the family and Charles, sharing few dances and laughs. If felt like the good old days. But one shot of tequila led to another and there she was, drunk as pirate and unhinged like a teenage girl. Charles did his best to keep her parents at bay, keep them occupied while he got one of his friends to take care of her. He was worried she might do something stupid, like walk up to the stage and fall down breaking all of her bones. Finally, her parents decided to leave without having to saying goodbye to her after Charles spent a good half an hour convincing them she was just in the back stage and that he'd get her home safe. When they were gone, he began to search for her, only to finally find her sitting on the stairs, making out with the friend he assigned to keep an eye on her.

So take me to every party and just talk to your friends Why don't you let me down, I'll let you do it again Go on and walk all over me, just don't walk away Give me the worst of you 'Cause I want you anyway

It was like being cut open alive and having people watch. There was nothing even remotely graceful about her actions, she was literally sitting on the floor having a battle of tongues with another drunk teenager while people had to walk pass her. It was embarrassing. Charles didn't know what to do. He wanted to run away and never come back, but he couldn't leave her there alone. He couldn't bring himself to stop the two of his friends, because he was just too sad and heartbroken to do so. He just stayed nearby and kept an eye on them. It was one of the longest nights in his life.

She couldn't remember the second half of her prom night and Charles would never speak of it, even though she begged him many times. He always became stiff and started to leave the room. She only kept asking, because it marked one of the biggest shifts in their friendships. He became cold, unresponsive and after few weeks, he stopped communicating completely.

You were my town, now I'm in exile, seein' you out I think I've seen this film before

Funny how people's faces change with years, but the eyes stay the same. The eyes and the look. Charles looked at her the second time this evening. It was like staring back at the eighteen year old boy who was drowning in his feeling.

It was one of her last nights in Monaco before leaving for university. Finally, her dreams were coming true. She was more than ready to get our to show the world she was a force to be reckoned with. She sent Charles countless messages before her final departure, at that moment, she was sure she'll never ever get back to Monaco and wanted to at least understand why he became distant. One evening, he finally agreed to meet up and talk. She was over the moon. Knowing that she could always turn Charles over, she left feeling confident - he was one the very few people she was sure shared the same soul as her. It was as if they'd never stopped talking. Jokes flying everywhere, the two of them strolling around, having no idea this would be the last time (and maybe, that was better for her at the time). There was so much to share, the two kept talking over each other for hours. Charles was happy when she finally stopped to take a breath for a moment. She looked him in the eye and saw a look she'd seen countless of times on his face. There was a shift in her mind and out of nowhere, she was kissing the boy she'd been unknowingly in love for years. She'd realize that she loved him only once she started dating a random guy from her college, expecting the same feeling Charles gave her. But it never came. Had she known, she'd have stayed with him. He tried to convince her to start dating him. Almost begged her to try it with him long distance. But there was a whole world for you to discover, places to be and versions of her that needed discovering. She had kissed only once. But it was a kiss of a lifetime. He blocked her on all socials after she rejected him again.

I never learned to read your mind (Never learned to read my mind) I couldn't turn things around (You never turned things around) 'Cause you never gave a warning sign (I gave so many signs) So many signs, so many signs You didn't even see the signs

The girls were laughing at some joke she missed while digging in her memory for traces of her first love. Charles Leclerc. He was sitting few tables away from her. This time, her heart sank as he kissed his girlfriend on the cheek as they walked away from the bar. She wanted to run to him, to talk to him again after all those years. To tell him the same thing he once emailed her. To explain that she was just too young to notice she had the love of her life right next to you. But she knew all too well what his answer would be. And just like he had back then, she never wanted to hear it out loud.

And I know that you don't, but if I ask you if you love me I hope you lie, lie, lie, lie, lie to me

part 2

260 notes · View notes

horrorhot-line · 1 year

Text

rame

(adj). something that is both chaotic and joyful at the same time

➵ pairing: saiki kusuo/female! reader

➵ word count: 5k

➵ genre: fluff?

➵ warnings: none

➵ summary: you come over for new years eve and plan to spend the day with saiki and his parents, only to be ambushed by teruhashi and kusuke,- the latter acting as if he knows something you don’t. saiki’s not happy, for more reasons than one.

➵ masterlist (requests are open)

➵ previous part - all hallows eve

I DO NOT CONSENT TO MY WORK BEING POSTED BY ANYONE ELSE ON ANY PLATFORM

before you read: ‘saiki telepathically communicating with reader’ ‘reader thinking or interacting with saiki through thoughts.’ “saiki talking without moving his mouth.” “saiki talking using his mouth.”

notes: this post was requested by someone but i can’t for the life of me find the request anywhere ;-; i know a lot of you were looking forward to saiki having his protective moments so i hope you enjoy!

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Before you even had the chance to ring the Saiki household's bell, the door abruptly opened. Of course, it was expected that a psychic like Saiki would have seen you coming. You couldn't help the grin that took over your features, making the corners of your eyes crinkle at the sight of the object of your affection Saiki.

You took a moment to take in Saiki's outfit- he wore a white turtleneck with a dark cyan sweater layered on top. How the psychic in question manage to pull it off so well with his pink hair? You had no idea. "You're here." Your eyebrows jumped at Saiki's statement. You half expected him to tell you to go home, but knowing him, he wouldn't have the heart to do that to you. Your grin widened.

Still smiling from ear to ear, you held up the bag in your hand filled with homemade coffee jelly. "I made you these for New Year's Eve. Aren't you going to invite me in?" You tilted your head to the side. There was still the main gate to the Saiki's residence that separated the two of you.

Saiki looked from the bag to you and then again. You only watched him, knowing he was going through a dilemma. You were sure he wasn't planning on letting you in because his parents would only bombard you with questions like they always did.

Mrs Saiki would only tease her son here and there, where as Mr Saiki would gush over how his youngest son had managed to find such a nice girlfriend despite the psychic insistently telling his dad that the two of you weren't in a relationship. On the other hand, he wanted the treats you had made for him.

You held the bag up and shook it lightly, 'I know you want it.' You thought at him smugly. Saiki only stared off to the side, and you could see he was struggling with the temptation. After a long mental battle, Saiki stepped outside his house, walking up to you. You only smiled, knowing he had given in to you.

"Fine. You can come in."

You let your arm relax, lowering the bag to your side as you watched him reach out his pale hand to open the gate for you.

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When Saiki had walked into the living room with you right behind him, and he moved to the side so you came into view- you didn't even get a chance to greet his parents before they jumped out of their seats on the couch to rush over to you. "Happy new ye- Ooof!" You weren't happy about the fact that you had ended the sentence with a Roblox dying effect.

"Happy New Year Y/n!" The both of them exclaimed as they drowned you in hugs, and your heart swelled. Saiki's parents were so sweet, and it was at moments like this that you remembered how much you loved his family, and him.

Saiki would never admit it but he felt like you fit right in, and he found he was okay with the fact that they loved you.

That only lasted so long, and after a few minutes of being suffocated by them, you peeked through the tangle of limbs to look at their son, sending a pleading look to Saiki. And like the knight in shining armour he was, he came to your rescue. The psychic didn’t mind if it was you asking for help.

"Alright, that's enough." The pink-haired boy stated before pulling his dad off of you by the collar of his shirt. You exhaled in relief, finally able to breathe. Damn, his old man had an iron grip.

"Good grief." You could almost hear the exasperation in Saiki's voice as he hauled his dad away, and all the while, Mr Saiki complained. "Is this how you treat your dear old dad?! This isn't fair, Kusuo! I just wanted to give my daughter-in-law some love!" You tried not to pay attention to the last comment.

With your hands no longer trapped by your side, you brought them up to wrap them around Mrs Saiki, and she squealed over how cute you were. You smiled sweetly at the woman's words, accepting the compliments regardless of whether you believed them or not. Mrs Saiki was the epitome of a ball of sunshine, and you loved her for it.

"She's not your daughter-in-law." Saiki said sternly, and Mr Saiki paled as he let out an "Eep!" at the psychic's darkened expression. Mrs Saiki broke away from you, her hands still on your shoulders as she turned to the boy in question, telling him to let his father go- and like the good son he was, he did.

Mr Saiki crumpled to the floor almost comically before shooting back up as if nothing had happened in the first place, telling his son off for treating him so roughly. His remarks fell on deaf ears.

The next hour went by faster than you would've liked.

After you gave Saiki the treats you had made him, he indulged himself in them with a blush and a smile on his face, one he got rid of the moment he saw you looking. Mr Saiki whisked you away and made you sit down on the couch, putting on a tv show he cackled at, and Mrs Saiki made you hot chocolate, insisting you try it because of the cold weather.

"You'll get sick, sweetie." She had said, shoving the warm mug into your hands and looking at you expectantly. You took a sip after blowing on the hot beverage, and though it had burnt your tongue slightly, the marshmallows melted in your mouth, and you felt like you had tasted heaven.

All was well in the world, until it wasn't.

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When Saiki tensed, letting his arm lower from being crossed across his chest, and his back straightened, no longer leaning on the wall next to the window as he watched you and his family get along- you raised your eyebrow at him.

'What's wrong?' You asked, not sure why he was suddenly on edge. 'She's here.' Saiki replied, his eyes snapping to meet yours. He didn't have to elaborate- you already knew. Of all the people in the world, there was only one person who would show up unannounced to the Saiki household that day. Teruhashi Kokomi.

People say all good things come to an end eventually, and you believed it. If spending time with the Saikis was bliss, Teruhashi was the reckoning.

You had to hand it to her- she was determined. Instead of spending New Year's Eve with her family, she was here, no doubt trying to catch Saiki's attention. Then again, did you even have any legs to stand on, considering you were technically doing the same thing? You guessed your high ground would be that Saiki didn’t mind having you around.

Teruhashi was here and that was an issue. There was no reason for her to ambush the poor psychic on New Years Eve other than to get him to say, 'Oh, wow!', of course.

You stood up from your seat in between Mr and Mrs Saiki, grateful that they were too busy laughing at the tv to pay attention. You came to a stop next to the window where Saiki was, peering out of it.

Lo and behold, there she was, shining like always. You watched on as she put her index fingers to her head and spoke to herself. Was that her imitation of Saiki's hairpins? You nearly laughed, stopping yourself before you could by covering it with a cough. You didn't want to offend the psychic in question. Whom already knew what you were thinking, and was offended.

You tried not to think about how close he was to you or how you could feel the body warmth radiating off of him as he leaned to look out the window. You were sure when he let out a sigh, and his breath fanned the side of your neck, your soul had left your body. The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end.

This man had too much power and it was unfair!

You turned to look up at him, and he briefly met your gaze, you wanted to kiss him right then and there, before his expression turned from soft to shocked. When you looked out the window again, you noticed someone with blonde hair next to Teruhashi. 'Surely not... It couldn't be.'

Saiki confirmed your suspicions, 'It is.' Saiki Kusuke had come to visit. 'What a disaster.' Saiki rushed to the door, and you followed. When the psychic slammed the door open, you watched as Teruhashi's expression changed rapidly. Her eyes lit up the moment she saw Saiki, and when her stare trailed to you, who was directly behind him, her smile fell.

'I knew it.'

'Rue, when did this happen?'

'Stop quoting Euphoria, now is not the time!'

'I shan't.'

Before Teruhashi had a chance to question why you were with Saiki, Kusuke spoke up. "There he is." When his eyes landed on you, he gave you a smirk, "Long time no see, Y/n." You grimaced, not liking the calculative look he gave you as he walked towards you, ignoring Saiki. "How have you been?" He asked, his tone sweet.

From the moment you had met him months ago, he had shown an interest in you and you couldn’t for the life of you understand why. Because his younger brother fond of you.

You noted how his smile didn't quite reach his eyes. When you gave the man silence, his smile grew. You didn't realise the expression on Saiki's face resembled frustration, but Kusuke did. He offered another side glance to Saiki before he turned to Teruhashi and told her to come in.

'These are the last two people I wanted to see on New Year's Day.'

'Agreed.'

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"Kusuke! You're home." Mr Saiki exclaimed when he saw his son. The man in question paid no mind to his dad, turning to Mrs Saiki instead. "Mom, it's been a while." You observed the scene, stood next to Saiki, who had his arms crossed again. He didn't look the least bit happy.

"Happy new year." Teruhashi greeted Saiki's parents bowing respectfully at them, and you covered your eyes with your arms to shield you from the light she gave off. Pretty girl energy was no joke! You were nearly blinded!

‘Good grief, stop being dramatic.’

‘I am not.’

Mrs Saiki exclaimed at the sight of Teruhashi, "Kokomi! Happy new year!" You felt somewhat glad that the same level of excitement Saiki's mom had when you first came wasn't there, and Teruhashi had gotten a watered-down reaction to what you received.

'They like you more, that's why.'

'You think so?'

'I know so.'

"Wait, you two know each other?" Mr Saiki questioned, looking to and from Kusuke and Teruhashi. Kusuke cleared the situation up by telling him he saw her ringing the doorbell and decided to let her in. Mr and Mrs Saiki apologised for not hearing the girl in question, who seemed to look at Kusuke as if she were in a daze.

You could see why, he was handsome after all, you could admit that much, but his personalit-

You didn't get a chance to finish your thought as a nearby potted plant trembled before bursting into pieces. Exclaims from Saiki's parents and Teruhashi filled the room. The unexpected loud noise threw you off guard, and you nearly launched yourself into Saiki.

Luckily the psychic had fast reflexes, his hand wrapped around your back and found its way onto your hip, steadying you. You ignored the butterflies that reappeared inside your stomach and the jump of your heart at Saiki's. When you found your balance your eyes met Kusuke's from across the room, who smiled at you as if he knew something you didn't.

His baby brother was jealous.

'Was that you, Kusuo?'

'Why would you think that?'

Saiki answered your question with one of his own, he was being evasive. That only ever happened when he wanted to deny something. You guessed right, it was! What you couldn't quite understand was why? Saiki had a good hold on his powers and they only fluctuated when he was angry, but nothing had happened to incur his rage. You had thought his brother was handsome.

When Teruhashi questioned what made the pot smash, Kusuke jumped in to tell her it was a ghost. She accepted it, remembering the time something similar happened when she came to join in on you and Saiki babysitting Yuta months ago.

You sighed in relief, giving Kusuke a nod as to say, nice save! He only shot a close-eyed smile back at you and you swore you saw another pot tremble in your peripherals.

"Isn't Kuriko here today?" Saiki's mouth fell open in shock, 'Oh right. The other day I dressed up as a girl and pretended to be my sister.' He thought, and you heard him. 'I know, I was there.'

'I have to let them know.' You weren't sure how Saiki planned on doing that- his dad was already questioning Teruhashi. "Kuriko? Oh, right, Kuriko!" Saiki visibly relaxed, and you only shook your head at him. 'Dad, you're perceptive.' Saiki complimented, and you looked at the psychic in mild disapproval.

His dad hadn't caught on at all, there was no way. You wondered how Saiki could possibly think he could rely on him when Mr Saiki was so incredibly aloof. 'He's not.' You thought back at him. The man in question handed food on a plate with chopsticks to Teruhashi, "Here is Kuriko for you!"

You were right- as always, Mr Saiki hadn't realised the situation. 'That's Kuri Chestnut paste.' Saiki looked on incredulously, finally understanding what you meant earlier. Teruhashi gave a confused smile, staring down at the food. "No, I meant Saiki's sister." She stated, and you felt sweat bead on your forehead. You were still there wondering how Saiki's dad had managed to pull food out of thin air.

"What? A sister..." Mr Saiki trailed off, confused as ever. 'This is bad!' You would have to jump in and save Saiki, yet again. "Oh, of course! Our sister, Kuriko." Kusuke jumped in before you could, shoving the Kuri Chestnut paste into his dad's mouth to stop him from speaking. Mr Saiki's muffled groans didn't stop the genius from talking, "She's abroad right now. You know her?"

"Oh really?" It looked as though Teruhashi believed the fib. Kusuke to the rescue! Guess there was no need for you to step in today- Saiki's older brother looked like he had everything under control. Saiki's expression turned from dismay to slight frustration, his brows furrowed.

You watched as Mr Saiki's expression turned to that of clarity, 'Good grief, he finally got it.' Teruhashi's smile returned, "Which country did she go to?" You knew for a fact from previous experiences that Saiki's dad was horrible when it came to answering on the spot, and you were correct. "Paraguay," Was what he had supplied, a strained smile on his face. You almost cringed into the next year.

What a terrible liar he was. Teruhashi was surprised at the answer, repeating the name of the country. 'Just shut up.' You nearly snorted, stopping yourself so the attention in the room wouldn't shift to you. You choked on your spit instead, lightly coughing into your hand so you wouldn't be too loud. Your throat burned from the action. You succeeded but at what cost?

"Kusuo, I have a present for you!" Kusuke jumped in, saving the day yet again with a clap of his hands. 'Nice, in more ways than one.' Saiki commented.

Saiki's older brother held out an envelope for Teruhashi, "You can have one too." He declared, but Teruhashi already had her hands up to refuse. "What? No, I can't accept that." Why say no to free money? You couldn't for the life of you understand. Ah... the perfect girl persona.

"Don't be shy, I have like, 80 million in the bank."

'She doesn't believe him.'

You were too shocked to pay attention to what Saiki thought. Your eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. Come again? Pardon? 80 million?! You knew he was rich but not that rich! As if sensing your inner turmoil, Kusuke walked up to you and handed you an envelope as well.

The only difference this time was that he took hold of your hands and brought them up to enclose them around the money. "Here's yours, Y/n. Don't worry, I didn't forget about you.' This one was twice as big as Teruhashi's and all you could do was dumbfoundedly stare from the envelope to Kusuke and then to where he was still holding your hand with a smile on his face.

You didn’t notice Saiki tensing beside you.

Was he trying to buy you with money? That wasn't the important question in this situation. The dilemma was, was it working? Maybe...

Another pot smashed in the kitchen, and you whipped your head to look at Saiki. His expression had darkened, and you couldn't for the life of you understand why. Maybe, just maybe, it was because Kusuke was holding your hand.

“Stop it.” Saiki glared at Kusuke, who shot a grin back at him before turning to Mr Saiki.

"You too, dad." That was sweet of Kusuke, giving money out left, right and centre- even to his father. "You didn't have to..." Mr Saiki trailed off, looking away bashfully and rubbing the bottom of his nose. "What?" Kusuke asked, and you retracted your previous statement. "My present, please."

Kusuke put his hand out in front of his dad, and you choked back laughter yet again. "You have 80 million!" His father exclaimed. While the two of them argued back and forth, Saiki poked your shoulder to get your attention. 'Good grief, what a bother. Let's go Y/n.'

You looked at him in surprise, before raising your eyebrow. 'What about Teruhashi?' He couldn't possibly leave her here with his demon of a brother, could he? The man would find a way to make the psychic's life miserable, and you would bet the money Kusuke gave you that he'd use Teruhashi to do it.

'She'll follow us.'

With that, you left the kitchen with Saiki and sure enough, Teruhashi followed the two of you. "Where are you both going?" Though she didn't say it, Teruhashi was an open book and you didn't need telepathy to know she was thinking- where are you off to? Alone? With Saiki?

‘Told you she’d tag along.’

‘No one likes a show off, Kusuo.’

Saiki wordlessly knelt down to put on his shoes, and you did the same, standing up. "To the temple- that was the plan before Kusuke showed up." You said bluntly, not giving her a second glance as you joined Saiki by the door.

"You can come if you want to." You stated, knowing full well she wanted nothing more than to crash the 'date' and third wheel in order to stop you from getting close to Saiki.

'If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're a psychic too. That's exactly what she's thinking.'

'But you do know better. I'm just good at reading people.'

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Despite it being January, the weather had yet to warm up. Winter still had its hold over Japan, the grey clouds and cold air were a clear sign of that. The seasons had yet to catch up, spring had yet to settle in and let the blossom trees bloom. Your coat and scarf provided little help against the chill that blanketed the streets.

You rubbed your hands together and blew hot air into them to try and get feeling back into your fingers. When you were about to let out another exhale, you nearly jumped out of your skin when Saiki's hand came into contact with yours.

The butterflies erupted in your stomach as if on command, and you cursed at them. Your ears burned, and suddenly you didn't feel so cold anymore. Saiki had been watching you shiver for the past five minutes and had taken matters into his own hands, quite literally.

'It'll help them warm up quicker. That's the only reason I'm holding them.' He clarified.

The sharp contrast of how warm he was, compared to the weather, caught you off guard. Your fingers had gone numb, but you could still feel the heat from his hands transferring onto you. You were grateful that Teruhashi and Kusuke's brother were walking ahead of you up the stairs to the temple. "Wow, there's a lot of people here," Kusuke commented.

'This is the worst-case scenario. It's all his fault.' Saiki lamented, and you sighed. Kusuke had managed to catch up to the three of you when you were about to leave and asked to join. He didn't wait for an answer, assuming the yes and he started to walk with you.

'Wanna try losing him in the crowd?' You suggested, only to realise it would be difficult since the guy was a genius and no doubt would gain access to hidden cameras to spot all of you. 'I have to take you and get out of here.' Saiki thought at you, and you agreed. What about Teruhashi, though? Saiki could care less at this point, anything to stop the masochist from trying to interact with you- Teruhashi be damned.

Kusuke turned his head slightly, looking off to the side. "By the way, are you two dating?" His eyes were completely devoid of emotion, and you grimaced. Sometimes, the man made you uncomfortable.

You stayed quiet, assuming that he was asking Teruhashi. Great, even Kusuke thought they were a couple. You ignored the fact that the idea of it all made you upset, denying the pang of pain you felt in your heart as some sort of allergy. Like that made any sense.

You expected Teruhashi to deny it half-heartedly like the perfect girl she was, but you saw the opposite unfold. Her cheeks were bright red as she shook her hand in front of her, eyes unfocused. "What? You're- You're totally mistaken! We're just friends!" She stuttered. You were surprised to see her lose her cool- it didn't happen often. Not unless Saiki was involved anyway.

Kusuke only shot her a fake smile, "I wasn't asking you." You watched as confusion took hold of Teruhashi. You snorted quietly into the palm of your hand, the other one occupied with still holding onto Saiki. "I was talking to you, Y/n." You stopped laughing when your brain caught up with the question.

'Good grief.'

Your mind was too busy reeling to notice Teruhashi's face scrunch in embarrassment and humiliation as she flushed red, or her shoulders droop. "Wh-What?!" You exclaimed, taken aback, it was your turn to blush. "No- no, we're not dating." You denied it, even though you wanted Kusuke's guess to be true. What you wouldn’t do to date the psychic.

"You two seemed close, so I got the wrong idea. Not to mention, you're holding hands." Kusuke elaborated, and you ignored the flush you were sure was covering you from head to toe. 'He knew, but he asked, anyway.'

You would have let go of Saiki's hand if it weren't for his strong grip. 'Stop holding my hand, Kusuo.' You thought at the psychic. 'Why?' He retorted, still observing his brother. 'I don't want Teruhashi putting a target on my back.' You stated matter of factly, already aware that if you incurred said girl's jealousy her minions would no doubt come after you.

The Teruhashi fan club was a force to be reckoned with and you had no intention of getting mixed up with them. 'Too late, she saw already. If I let go now, it'll make it worse.' You gave up on trying to get away from Saiki, there was no saving yourself, now.

"If you don't like my brother, how about dating me instead?" By the time you noticed how close Kusuke had gotten to you, he was a mere centimetres away from your face. You leaned the top half of your body back, flustered yet again as you refused to meet Kusuke's stare.

You didn't get a chance to refuse his offer. "Back off." Saiki had pulled you behind him, his hand still intertwined with yours as he stood between you and his older brother. Kusuke only smirked tauntingly at the psychic, his eyes closed. "Oh? Why do I have to do that? Can't I make conversation with a friend of mine-" You cut off Kusuke, "We aren't friends, though?"

You barely knew the guy, and from what Saiki told you, the only impression you had of him was that he was a crazed genius who got off to losing to his younger brother. "Don't be like that, Y/n-" Kusuke tried to step around Saiki and get close to you, but the pink-haired boy wasn't having any of it. "I'm warning you."

Kusuke put his hands up in mock defeat, "Okay, okay. No need to be so on edge, little brother." You didn't notice Teruhashi until she spoke up, distracting the three of you. "Why did you ask her and not me?!" She sure was bold, you guessed the humiliation finally got to her head, making her throw away her perfect girl persona.

Kusuke deadpanned at Teruhashi as he continued. "What? You thought you could fool me? Well, that's to be expected. You probably have been pampered your whole life because of your looks, but Kusuo is on a different level." You expected Saiki to stop Kusuke, but he didn't do a thing, only watched.

Teruhashi no doubt had finally realised Kusuke's true nature. Apart from children, Hairo, Saiki and you, everyone in the world was affected by Teruhashi's beauty. Now, Kusuke was added to that list. Truth be told, you were surprised she hadn't noticed that the genius had yet to gasp at her.

"Oh, wow." Kusuke gasped, but you knew it wasn't at her. It was obvious, his expression was completely neutral, devoid of emotion, and it was like he was far away, not quite there when he said it. You were sure Teruhashi picked up on that as well. How had things come to this? You agonised, wondering why Saiki had to be so unlucky all the time.

'I can still hear you.'

'I'm not wrong am I?'

The four of you continued walking when you realised you were holding up the crowd of people trying to get to the temple. Kusuke half-heartedly apologised for his behaviour, saying he couldn’t really judge- inadvertently calling Teruhashi a monkey as well as the rest of the masses. How condescending.

'He shouldn't take Teruhashi too lightly.'

'She gives even the most powerful psychic in the world trouble, your brother should've been more careful.'

That’s when Teruhashi started crying.

‘Oh no...’

"Sorry. I know you're a talented actress too." Kusuke stated, but that did nothing to placate the crowd of people stalking toward him. Kusuke failed to realise that the show Teruhashi put on wasn't for him, it was for the strangers around her that would flock to her rescue.

Kusuke looked from left to right at the marching crowd, confused as to why they were surrounding the four of you. Except they weren't, they were surrounding him. Teruhashi had used the ultimate weapon, her angel tears. You saw the smirk she tried to hide behind the hands covering her face. "Are all these her boyfriends? Huh, Kusuo? Y/n?"

The genius tried to seek help from you and Saiki, to no avail. You had no intention of getting involved with the angry mob. They tried to attack Kusuke, but he managed to summon a helicopter to flee. Where did it even come from?

'Even he was no match for Teruhashi.' You could only silently agree with Saiki's sentiment, gazing up at the retreating aircraft.

'Only in Ohio.' You thought solemnly.

'I don't appreciate your tik tok references.' Saiki thought back, a scowl on his face.

‘Shush, you love them really.’

He did.

'I don't care if you do or not anyways, they're for my sanity.' You surmised.

You sighed for the hundredth time that day, feeling drained despite it being early in the morning. The only thing left to do now was to find a way to ditch Teruhashi.

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bonus:

It was easier than expected, losing Teruhashi that is. You had the news reports of a beautiful girl crying at the temple plastered on social media to thank for that. When Makoto, Teruhashi's older brother had called her up to check on her, threatening that he'd come to see her- she had no choice but to go home.

She apologised quickly, bowed to the both of you and left in a hurry.

"Good job, Y/n." It was rare for Saiki to compliment you, but when he did, you only felt one type of way. It's worth it getting dragged into Saiki's disastrous life, time and time again. Curse you for being whipped for this man.

"Why?" You questioned, curious as to where the praise came from. "I saw you take that picture and post it online." Saiki regarded you as he gave you a side glance. It was true, you had pulled your phone out to snap a picture of Teruhashi amidst the chaos when she was crying, for the purpose of it getting enough attention that it would reach her brother.

You were surprised it had worked, but it was expected- her brother was her number 1 fan and number 1 stalker. "I knew you wanted to get rid of her, so I just did my part." You missed the way the corners of Saiki's mouth twitched, too busy focusing on the fact that he was still holding your hand.

You half expected him to have dropped his hold on you like a hot potato, knowing how he hated getting attention. Your heart threatened to leap into your throat when he gave your hand a light squeeze, your ears burning yet again.

When you looked up at Saiki, the smallest of smiles that had been there seconds earlier was now gone, replaced by his stoic expression. You rubbed your thumb on the back of his hand absentmindedly and shot him a grin. You shoved down the thoughts of how soft his hands were.

You had made up your mind, you were going to spend the rest of New Year's Eve with him, with no interruptions this time. When you pulled him in the opposite direction of the temple and felt no resistance as he followed your lead, your smile widened.

"Let's go to a cafe, Kusuo."

“Okay.”

Saiki decided yet again that he didn't mind being bothered, not by you anyways. Regardless of whether you dragged him to a cafe or anywhere else.

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next part - eunoia

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