#(i know that i'm probably gonna get a TON of hate for this)

[violetarks]

"they don't love me like you do!"

anime: jujutsu kaisen

character: gojo satoru

summary: despite the countless valentines day offers he receives, satoru will only ever accept one confession. but you're confessing... to his best friend?

warnings: g/n! reader, they/them pronouns used, high school! au

"please accept these chocolates, gojo!" says the girl in front of him. satoru casually pulls down his glasses enough to see the red, heart-shaped cardboard box.

"oh, uh... thank you." he awkwardly says. this girl was two year below him, judging by the colours of her indoor shoes. he didn't even know her name. "this is... a surprise."

"i've liked you ever since orientation day. i hope you like these." she says with a nervous grin. she's stiff as he takes them out of her hands, standing up straight to stare at the tall man. "thank you for always being so funny and helping everyone you can."

"ah, you're welcome." he says, tucking the chocolates and the letter taped to it under his arm. luckily, the lunch bell had rung and everyone should've been off to enjoy their break. "well, i'll... see you around."

"b—bye, gojo!" she calls, waving at him as he walks the other way. he gives a kind smile before he turns the corner, dropping it immediately.

on the way to class, multiple other students watched him as he carelessly skimmed through the letter before stuffing it in his book bag, ready to throw it (and the others) away once home. valentines day was this week and it was two days before it today. yet satoru had received tons of confession letters and date proposals, none of which he had the intention of accepting.

plopping down in his chair, he groans, hanging his head, "ugh! i hate being so loveable..."

suguru rolls his eyes, outting his book down. "here we go again." he grunts, shaking his head.

"seriously! why can't i be left alone around valentines day?" he questions out lout, pulling his lunch box from his bag.

shoko bites into her sandwich as she listens to him. as she swallows, she retorts, "maybe it's because you flirt with every living being on earth." satoru sends him a pointed look. "so how many letters today?"

"seven." satoru responds, knocking his bag.

"and?"

"none of them were from y/n." he sighs out, picking up his chopsticks.

"wait, y/n?" suguru pipes up, putting his juicebox down, "as in y/n from class d?"

the blue-eyed boy raises a brow, halting his movements. "uh, yeah? l/n y/n." he recalls to his friend, tilting his head, "what? i've been talking about 'em for the past three months—suguru, have you been listening to me at all?"

"oh!" the dark-haired boy chuckles, nodding his head, "i know y/n. we're in the same literature class."

satoru stares at him in disbelief. the other students surrounding them are in their own little world, but the three of them didn't even mind them hearing if they tried. shoko continues to eat her food while suguru shrugs at his friend.

"are you kidding me?" satoru gasps out, waving a hand in the air, "i've been trying to get with them for three months and you tell me this just now?"

"you should've been more specific, man." suguru retorts, waving it off, "anyway, you gonna' ask them to be your valentine?"

satoru sighs loudly, hanging his head back, "i don't know... we only share bio together, i bet there's a lot of people who have asked them to be their valentine. they probably won't even accept mine."

shoko purses her lips and stretches her arms. "i don't know about that." she claims, "you're a pretty guy and everyone knows you. i doubt they'd pass up the chance to revel in that popularity."

"... thanks, shoko."

soon enough, the bell rings and the day goes on.

the next day, satoru notices something in your hand during biology class.

"whatchu' got there, y/n?" he asks, peaking over your shoulder. he sat behind you, enough room to see the handwritten letter you were writing.

"satoru!" you jump a little, covering the page. he furrows his brow. "it's, uh... i'm just writng something."

"is it... for valentines day tomorrow?" he inquires, curious to who was the lucky person. but you were still hiding it from him!

"no, of course not." you were lying, he could tell by the way you look to the left. a pout falls on his lips. "it's notes. for another class."

"oh... okay." he responds, a bit disappointed. why would you lie to him? he sits back in his chair, writing down some paragraphs from the textbook mindlessly. he saw the way your elbow quickly shifted, you were writing faster. your head was down too, never looking up. you were so concentrated.

he's known you for a couple of months now. you bumped into him on the way to school, and you admitted to him that you were a bit lost since you didn't live around here. satoru, being the gentleman he is, offered to escort you. you thought he was some creep (he tried reaching to hold your hand and when you jerked away on instinct, he played it off as it being the wind).

but once realising you two shared some classes together, you grew fond of him. you knew of the countless students throwing themselves at him. both older and younger. he was the school heartthrob. it's a shame though, only your smile could make his heart race like he makes others do.

when you gave him your lucky pen when he told you he didn't study and he was freaking out, you had this kind smile that made him think 'i don't want anyone else to see this but me'.

and he noticed that you awkwardly took it back from him, looking away as he clasped your hands tightly in the filled hallway and thanked you. your reactions were just the cutest...

when the bell rings, you perk up, putting your 'notes' in a suspicious looking envelope and signing it off with something. you stand up and satoru is quick to walk by your side when a classmates holds his arm to talk.

"huh?" satoru grunts, furrowed brows.

"gojo, i... i wanted to give you this." they say, holding out a teddy-bear saying 'be my valentine!'. satoru frowned when he took it. "you don't have to answer today... just let me know tomorrow, please."

as they continue to talk, he sees you exit the classroom. the letter sits comfortably in your palm, and you look left, right, before walking off. satoru is electrified.

"okay, thanks!" he says, running out of the classroom while he clutches the bear in his hands.

weaving through the crowd, he looks for the top of your head. after more and more people pass him, staring at the teddy and whispering 'who gave that to him this time?', he spots you turning the corner, a nervous look on your face. he mutters out apologies as he bumps into people heading to their next class.

the hallway you're in now is empty. you stand in front of a classroom door, waiting. notably, suguru's math class.

satoru stands at the end of the corridor, behind the corner, as the classroom door opens to reveal his best friend, geto suguru.

"suguru!" you call, smile. your shoulders are straightened, you hold the letter in front of you. not scared to show him...

"oh, y/n, hey." he responds, grinning as well. the comfortability around you two was so strange to see. "what's up?"

satoru feels like he's buzzing out. he can't hear everything you're saying, but you look a bit excited yet anxious. he hears your sweet voice speak to his best friend with such kindness that he's jealous. sure, suguru was attactive and nice and he definitely didn't feed into the popularity like satoru did, but...

why did it have to be you who was interested in him?

"please, take this." you say, handing him the same letter you had before. except this time, satoru sees the 'g.s' on it. 'geto suguru'. and you take out a box of his favourite snacks to hand to him. "thank you for everything, again. you're the best."

suguru takes it with ease, seeing how you looked at him. his gaze softens as he takes the treat as well. "you're welcome, y/n. anything you need, i'll help with." he puts the letter in his own bag before slinging am arm around your shoulders. "now, what're your plans for after?"

he was blatantly asking you out now! right after satoru told him he had feelings for you! such betrayal!

you two walk to the other end of the hallway, in the direction of your literature class. satoru slumps against the wall, furrowed brows and lips pressed into a thin line. after a second, he pushes his glasses up and lets out a slow exhale. he could get over this...

"gojo! may i please have a moment of your time?"

"wait no! me first!"

"gojo, can i talk to you?"

"please accept these!"

or maybe he couldn't.

valentines day was today and you danced into school with such confidence. you had a bouquet of flowers in your arms, chocolates of the sweetest kinds, and a bag of new perfume that you knew your crush would like.

you were so excited.

satoru, who was walking a few people behind you, was not.

he saw the amount of passion you put into the holiday, and it made him sick to know it was for his best friend. the guys was in such a bad mood, he ignored suguru and shoko's calls this morning to meet up and walk to school together like usual.

satoru clicked his tongue, thinking about how dramatic the whole valentines day idea was. really, who needed it all anyway?

in homeroom, he can hear your class (which is next to his, across the hall) start whooping and cheering when you walk in. and he knows it's you by the chants of your last name being heard. he sits in his chair in anguish.

"satoru, morning. finally." shoko says, sitting down as well. she grins, bitting the popsicle stick between her lips. "where are all of your valentines presents?"

"stuffed in my shoe locker and under my desk." he claimed, opening the top of it to showcase the blaring red and pink gifts. she picked at one pocky box, munching on the biscuits. "how about you?"

"i got a couple letters and cookies in my locker." she claims, shrugging her shoulders, "lots of 'em are from the badminton team. i don't know why."

satoru shrugs as well as soon as suguru sits down in front of him. the blue-eyed students scoffs, looking away.

"good morning, satoru." he says, noticing his friend's behaviour, "what's got his panties in a twist this morning? does he know we called him a hundred times?"

"i dunno'." shoko says, looking out the window to the school garden. "ask him."

"satoru, what's wrong? didn't get enough presents this year?" he teases, leaning in his chair to poke his head, "wake up late?"

but satoru angrily swats his hand away. the raven-haire boy blinks curiously before satoru glares at him. "why didn't you tell me you were interested in y/n?" he asks, hurt.

shoko looks back to the two boys, seeing suguru just as confused as she is. "you're into y/n?"

"what? no! who said that?" suguru retorts, hands up in defense, "i'm not interested in dating y/n, swear on my life."

"that's a lie!" satoru accuses, pointing a finger against his friend's nose, "shoko, i saw him and y/n all... all... familiar yesterday after period 2! he had his arm around them!"

"suguru..." shoko warns.

"wait wait, that's—you got it all wrong." suguru groans, now understanding. he digs through his bag and pulls out a piece of paper. "here. open it."

satoru pushes away the paper reading 'g.s'. "no way! i'm not reading y/n's love letter to you!"

"ugh! just open it!" suguru grunts, shoving it onto his desk.

satoru begrudgingly takes it and gently opens the letter, not wanting to rip it. once his eyes fall upon the page, he confirms that it's your handwriting.

'thank you for being the sweetest boy to me. i am truly honoured to know such a beautiful person, inside and out.'

satoru wants to barf.

'sitting near you in biology really helped me to understand you, satoru. you're not only a pretty face, but a world-class sweet tooth, a sucker for romantic cliches and a cologne-collector.'

satoru thinks this is the most beautiful thing he's ever read.

he contiues to read, expression changing, letting shoko and suguru understand his thoughts. the girl looks to the other boy, who shrugs his shoulders and rolls his eyes.

"i'm confused." shoko states, tilting her head.

"y/n isn't confessing to me, they're confessing—"

"y/n is confessing to me! me, satoru!" satoru exclaims, waving the letter around like a maniac. everyone else in the class was suddenly a listener, peaking at the trio. they were interested in finding out what the one confession that resulted in this reaction was. "oh my god, oh my god!"

suguru nods his head. placing a hand on his shoulder to calm him down. "yes, yes, they are. i was meant to give you the letter this morning to read before homeroom, but someone was pissy." he scoffs, shaking his head, "so i had to go and tell y/n that plans had changed."

"you... helped y/n plan this all out?" satoru mumbles, "but you didn't even know!"

shoko chuckles, staring out the window again.

"i just said i wasn't paying attention so you didn't think i was snooping. which i was. and i only told you i knew y/n so you wouldn't get any ideas, like this." suguru circles the air with his finger, deadpanning at the clueless satoru, "you think anyone would do this without definitive proof the other person liked them?"

satoru continues to read the letter you wrote for him before his eyes land on the ending. "'please meet me at the school fountain before homeroom ends.'" he murmurs out, blinking, "suguru—"

"you were meant to go two minutes ago." his friend sings out, standing in front of shoko's desk. he points out the window, much like other students were doing in their own classrooms. "you should..."

when his friends turn around to him, satoru is already one foot out of the door. he's rushing downstairs (down three flights of stairs, actually) with your letter clutched in his hand. he almost flies into a couple teachers on the way to the garden, only for their attention to be caught by students opening the windows and pointing outside.

when he rushed through the doors to the garden, you're staring at the floor, still holding the flowers and gifts you brought to school with you. taking a moment to gather himself, satoru runs fingers through his hair and fixes his glasses. the pair you've complimented a thousand times.

satoru walks closer to you and when he catches your eye, you stand up straight and smile.

"satoru." you chime, not missing the thousand pairs of eyes that were following your every move. "good morning. happy valentines day."

you hold out the flowers to him. it's set in a nice box, and the treats are in a gift bag. when you give it to him, your smile is awkward but hopeful.

"happy valentines day, y/n." he replies, taking it from you. he sits down on the fountain edge, and you follow along. "i'm so sorry, i... i don't have anything for you."

"no, no, no." you retort, grinning, "it's fine. this was a surprise for you, anyway."

he sighs, "no, i'm sorry... please, let me make it up to you."

you laugh a little, placing a hand over his on his lap. the flowers were sat on the fountain with his gifts. "sure thing." you retort, "hey, suguru told me that this morning—"

"i'm sorry, i know, i just thought..." he begins, cutting you off. he looks embarrassed, heavy blush falling over his cheeks. "i saw you and suguru yesterday and you gave him that letter. had me thinkin' you were confessing to him instead of me."

you let out a small chuckle, making him gulp, "oh my goodness, i'm sorry, i didn't mean for you to see that. we were trying to be sneaky."

satoru's chest feels lighter, and he feels better just hearing it from you. he links his fingers with yours, facing you fully.

"ah, no it's fine." he tells you, the most purest form of adoration in his eyes that you can see from the top of his slanted down glasses. you grin softly. "listen, i have had a crush on you for months... and i was hoping that you'd go out with me. i want a chance to get to know you personally, away from any prying eyes."

you peer to the side, seeing the people watching you. they were practically hanging out the window, waving their hands and fighting to view the whole scene for themselves. cameras took photos and videos, capturing your moment with him.

"i'd love that, satoru." you say, scanning his face, "you're the best."

it only takes him a single second to reach his hand out and brush his thumb agaisnt your cheek. you don't freeze up though, only relaxing into him. he was the most inviting guy you've ever met.

"can i kiss you?" he asks, voice unwavering. his blue eyes are staring at your face with such kindness that it cannot be described.

you don't even say anything, only leaaning forward and pressing your lips to his. he's smiling against your lips, gentle hand caressing your cheek. your eyes flutter shut, holding his hand tightly.

cheers erupt from the school. screams and whoops from guys and girls alike. most students are heartbroken due to the obvious confession. nobody had even gotten that close to satoru. no one has been able to hold his hand, let alone get him to go crazy over a letter. you got him to race out of that classroom like a madman, and everyone was surely surprised.

the shouts die down as the kiss deescalates, many of the students sighing as they're forced to move on from the heart-throb gojo satoru.

when you pull away, satoru chases, leaving a gentle kiss against your forehead. your smile is wide and you pinch his cheek softly.

"you're such a drama queen, satoru." you say, standing up, "i was wondering why everyone started yelling and staring at me all of a sudden."

satoru stands with his presents, rubbing the back of his neck as he holds your hand. h goes to answer when a voice is heard from the fourth floor.

"the idiot took some convincing, y/n!" suguru shouts, waving his hand, "glad to know he's got some sense in him!"

"shut up, suguru!" satoru calls back, showing his fist.

"first period is about to start, you two!" the principle says through a window on the third floor, "this is all heart-warming, but you've failed two of ms kinoshita's classes, gojo!"

"r—right!" he retorts, pacing to the school entrance as people begin to 'ooh' at him. he looks back at you, smiling the brightest. "let's go out after school today, yeah? i'll buy you as many sweets as you want."

you chuckle, kissing his cheek, "my hero."

[xbellaxcarolinax]

Futile Devices

Miguel O'Hara x civilian f!reader

Summary: The deal was explicitly no strings attached. You were finding it harder to keep up your end of the bargain. 

Word Count: 8.2k (A behemoth of a fic, I'm so sorry guys)

Warnings: FWB, language, angst, reader is totally in love with Miguel, Miguel being a bit of an ass, probably a tad toxic? SMUT, p in v (no protection), cum play, low-key breeding kink? Like super low-key. Oral (f receiving). Miguel climbing through windows. Idk why I'm obsessed with that thought lmfao I make him climb through windows every chance I get. Idiots in love. Probably a rushed ending, sorry!

Thanks to @whatthefishh for beta-reading. Partly inspired by this.

Also, this is mega ultra cliche, we all know they're gonna end up together, so just enjoy the ride! It's not the destination, it's the journey 😌 Hope you guys enjoy, and if you do, pls let me know what you think! I love reading your comments!

MDNI pls.

...

It was always a mission getting to Miguel's office.

Headquarters wasn't built to accommodate civilians, the winding pathways and corridors a danger if one wasn't too careful.

You had to be extra careful. 

You hurried toward Miguel's office, heels clicking against clean tiled floors as you dodged a fuck ton of spider people and the inescapable attention of one annoying Peter Parker.

"Come on," Peter Parker number two hundred tried his luck again, "just one date. I’ll take you anywhere you wanna go." 

"No." You rolled your eyes, swatting him with the manilla folder in your hands like you would a fly. 

“Look, all I’m saying is you should give me a shot. I’m funny.”

“So is every other Peter Parker I’ve encountered.”

“I’m different.”

“I doubt it.” 

He deflated, keeping up with your quick steps. “Who doesn’t like funny guys?”

“Me.”

“Sure,” he stretched the word out, unconvinced, "so if not funny guys then what? The ones with sticks up their asses, like Miguel?" He snorted with a shake of his head. You knew it was a sort of rhetorical question but you couldn’t help swallowing thickly, your hands gripping the folder a little too tightly. 

Yeah. Something like that.

You felt your heart drop to your stomach when Peter Parker two hundred raised his brows at your silence. So maybe he did want an answer.

"Nah, there's no way. I'll try again tomorrow." He smiled, shooting a web out in some random direction and swinging off toward the floor above. 

Fuck. That was close.

You breathed a sigh of relief, loosening your fingers over the folder before quickly hurrying toward your destination. 

You pressed your watch against the sensor outside of Miguel's office, waiting for the metal door to slide open. It didn't. You tried again. Still nothing. Again. It wouldn't budge.

"Ugh, come on, Miguel!" You banged the door with a tiny fist as if that would make a difference, "open up!" 

Lyla appeared suddenly, her sprite-like form circling your head once before she faced you.

"You probably shouldn't go in there," she warned, "he's in a…mood." 

"He’s always in a mood," your hands were on your hips now, the manilla folder crinkling further in your hand, "I need to report a couple of grievances—"

"Mmmmmm, I'm sure that's the last thing he wants to hear right now, Miss HR." God you hated when they called you that. You rolled your eyes, swatting her away with the folder which did nothing, of course, and pressed your watch against the sensor. 

"That's not gonna work, honey."

"So let me in." 

"Promise to be nice?"

"To who?" You snorted, "You or Miguel?" 

"Me," Lyla grinned, adjusting her heart-shaped glasses, "forget Miguel." 

You sighed, cracking a smile, "Lyla, would you please let me into Miguel's office?" The Ai made a noise of approval, comically saluting you before granting you access.

"Don't say I didn't warn ya." She sang, disappearing from your sight. 

You sighed. Miguel's shifting moods were nothing new to you—not anymore. Back when you both worked at Alchemax, he was passive and less quick to anger. But that seemed a lifetime ago. 

Life progresses. People change.

“Mig?” You called out, peering up toward his solitary platform. You could hear the soft hisses of machinery, the yellow glow of Miguel’s holo screens illuminating the area above like a radiant star.

He didn’t answer. 

“Miguel,” you tried again, “we have some things to discuss.” You slapped the manilla folder against your hand as if he’d recognize the sound of formal complaints filed within the last week. 

The platform began to descend after a moment, and you breathed a sigh of relief as his figure came into view. His shoulders were stiff, his body rigid as he swiped through the yellow screens.

“I told Lyla not to let anyone in.” His voice was cold, frigid even. He didn’t bother to face you, his eyes pinned to his screens as he leaned forward, the muscles of his back flexing through his suit. 

You couldn’t see what he was looking at but you could hear it: the soft giggles of a little girl, the cheers of a soccer game, the chuckles of a man now broken. It wasn’t the first time you’d heard the sounds of Miguel’s past. It probably wouldn’t be the last either.

“I-uh, got some reports to share with you.” You felt foolish. Lyla was right. HR complaints were the last thing on Miguel’s mind. 

“Reports of the anomaly on Earth 9811?” Your brows pinched in irritation. He knew those weren’t the reports you had. You were fucking HR, not on active duty, let alone a spider person. 

"No, you'd have to ask Jess or Gwen about that, but you need to listen—"

“I don’t want to hear it.” He grunted. You saw his hands form fists at his sides, the same hands that’d fisted your sheets in the throes of pleasure just days ago. 

You shook your head. It was not the time for that kind of thought. 

You carefully opened the crinkled folder, pulling out the paperwork you’d printed from your antique printer to read aloud from it.

“Peter Parker of Earth 5431-02 has formally filed a complaint,” you began, your eyes scanning the black text before releasing an exasperated sigh, “he’s saying you threw a chair at him?” Miguel grunted, the holo screens shutting off at his (Lyla’s) command.

“He’s an idiot.” Miguel snapped, finally turning to face you, his sharp features shadowed by the lack of light. He regarded you carefully, red eyes tracing your figure. You’ve grown used to the way his eyes lingered over you, especially when you were under him, his body pressed against yours, but sometimes you couldn’t help but squirm under his more severe gaze.

“Well, yeah,” you reluctantly agreed with a tilt of your head, “but a chair, Miguel?”

“It’s not like it hurt him...badly.”

“That's not the point."

“The point is that I got my point across.” Miguel snorted. 

"It's the principle. You don't go around throwing fucking chairs at the people who work for you!" 

"Mhm." 

"You're their boss! What kind of behavior is that?"

"Uh-huh." 

You were about ready to strangle him but knew your fingers couldn’t even go around his throat properly. You’ve tried before, under very different circumstances. You settled for pinching the bridge of your nose, as he often did, taking a breath to calm yourself before you completely lost your shit. "Listen to me."

"I'm listening, HR."

"Ugh, look," you pointed a finger up toward him, your brows knitted in obvious irritation, "annoying or not, he's still a member of the Spider Society, therefore, he has every right—”

“—to file a grievance under any circumstance as a result of an injustice, discrimination, or harmful behavior, and is to be given the respect to which every spider person is due as a valued member of the society. I know.” Miguel finished the legal jargon for you, hopping off the platform with an ease that’d always surprised you.

He stepped into your space, his large body casting a long shadow over you as he snatched the crinkled paperwork from your hands. 

“I’ll speak with him.” He grunted. You pursed your lips, watching as his eyes scanned over the page.

"Make it right, Mig. Apologize. Formally. Or informally. It doesn’t matter— there’s nothing normal about this place anyway.” You placed your hands on your hips as you leaned forward, aware of how he was suddenly gazing down at you. “Just be nice, okay? Compensate him with, I dunno, a minor mission. He always wants to get involved, so let him.” 

Miguel rolled his eyes, heaving a great sigh while running his hand through his hair. “Fine.”

“And no more throwing chairs to make a point.”

“Uh-huh, fine, anything else?” God, you wanted to smack him. You opted for snatching back the paperwork from his hand, smoothing out the wrinkles over your skirt-clad thighs before searching for the proper page.

“Yeah," you brought a finger down on the page, "the spiders are getting bored of the cafeteria food.” That was enough for Miguel's face to pinch in displeasure.

“What’s wrong with empanadas and churros?” He scoffed, waving his hand to dismiss the complaint, “And that stupid blue burger with my face on it?” He paused, eyes squinting for a moment, “You know what? That can go. Get rid of it.”

“Fine. Do I have permission to organize a survey?”

“For food?” 

“Yes, for food. They want options.” 

“Aye, por Dios,” Miguel grunted, waving his hand again, “Fine.” 

“Fine.” 

“Anything else?” 

“Nope.” You organized the documents back into the manila folder before handing it over to him.

“You know you could just send this electronically, right?” He looked down at the folder, his eyes tracing your neat cursive in black ink.

“I’m old-fashioned.” You shrugged, turning on your heels. You heard him snort out a laugh, a tiny thing that made you smile. He has a nice laugh.

“One more thing,” Miguel called out, demandingly. You looked over your shoulder at him as he regarded you with heavy eyes.

“What is it?” 

He boarded the platform once again, the machinery coming to life and slowly elevating him back to his preferred height. He tossed the folder somewhere over the desk, to be forgotten. It was the least of his worries at that moment.

You watched Miguel ascend above you like some kind of heavenly being, the yellow light of the holo screens illuminating his tan skin till he glowed molten gold. You waited on him with bated breath, his response sinking straight to your core.

“Keep your window unlocked tonight.” 

…

He loves it when you ride him. 

His large hands were glued to your hips as you bounced on him expertly, your cunt soaking him in your sticky juices. 

Most nights began this way—with Miguel's cock buried deep in your pussy after a long day of enduring his insufferable attitude. You'd fuck the stress out of him—fuck the astronomical weight of the multiverse off his shoulders if only for a few short hours.

"Been thinking about this all day." He groaned under you, throwing his head back over your pillow when he felt your walls grip his length viciously, fighting to keep him in.

"Yeah?" You gasped, your hands firmly planted on his bare chest as you made work of your hips, rotating them in delicious circles—the way he liked—your thighs spread wide to accommodate his massive size. "W-wasn't enough to curb that a-attitude though, huh?" 

Even amid the utmost pleasure—of Miguel's length hitting a spot that had you trembling—you found the strength to taunt him, your hazy eyes catching a glimpse of the twitch in his brow. That meant trouble.

Within seconds Miguel had you on your back, his imposing body trapping you against your mattress. His cock slipped out for a moment but he had no problem finding his way back into your slippery channel, snapping his hips strategically to reach as deep as he could.

You cried out, your hands scrambling to find purchase over his shoulders, your pretty manicured nails digging into his perfectly golden skin.

"F-fuck! Miguel!"

"Wanna say that again?" He growled, his face hovering mere centimeters from yours, "Go ahead, say it again." You did nothing but whimper as he pounded into you mercilessly, his cock stretching you open. 

"That's what I thought." Miguel chuckled smugly, delighting in your little chokes and stutters, egging him to keep pounding you relentlessly. You tried speaking—tried to articulate your words to him, but you couldn't, too cock drunk to focus on anything else but his gorgeous face twisted up in pleasure and his thick cock kissing the secret place within you.

He had you coming soon after, stars exploding behind your lids as you trembled in his arms. Your cunt squeezed him just right and he came, panting in your ear as he filled you to the brim. 

His spend stained your sheets when he pulled out, and as always, he watched it dribble out from your swollen cunt with lidded eyes. He wasted no time in taking his fingers and stuffing the mess back in.

“Keep me in there.” He muttered, swiping through your puffy folds one final time before he ripped himself from you. You immediately soured, keeping your gaze on him as he quickly cleaned himself off with a cloth you left for him on your nightstand. 

You admired his figure: the ripple of his muscles as he moved, the broadness of his shoulders, the glow of his skin in the dim lighting of your bedroom. 

Miguel was gorgeous. You’ve always thought so.

His suit glitched before coming to life, covering his sculpted body in the usual blue and red you've come to know. 

“Did…you want to eat before you go?” Dinner was on the stove, cold but still good. You sat up against your headboard, more of his spend leaking out as you fiddled with your fingers over the soiled sheets. 

Miguel shook his head, sighing as he closed his eyes for a moment.

“I have to go.” He said, stepping forward, grabbing your hand, and placing a chaste kiss over your knuckles. It was the only form of affection he’d allowed himself to give you. He’d never kissed you before. Probably never will. It wasn't part of the deal.

Your heart sunk, your skin searing where his lips had lingered. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Most nights ended this way—with your aching cunt full of his seed and your eyes wet with unshed tears as you watched him leave through your window, disappearing into the night.

…

A few days later, Peter B. Parker landed in your office. Quite literally. 

He plopped down on the seat in front of yours from seemingly nowhere, a messily packed diaper bag hanging loosely from his shoulder. He had his daughter snuggly pressed against his chest in her carrier, her chubby arms and legs flailing over his pink robe.

You yelped, dropping the pen in your hand, clutching your chest in freight. 

“Jesus! Where the hell did you just come from?!”

“Up there.” Peter pointed up. You followed his line of vision, noting the door to the air vent busted open, barely hanging from its hinges. “Sorry about the vent.” He offered sheepishly, taking a large bite of a slice of pizza he'd pulled from a greased-up brown paper bag. 

"You could've just taken the elevator!"

"Takes too long to get to the basement.” He said between a mouthful of pizza, “Why'd Miguel give you an office down here anyway?" 

"I'm scared of heights." You reminded him, watching Mayday struggle to release herself from her carrier prison. Peter snorted out a laugh, dropping the diaper bag on the floor while simultaneously taking another bite of his pizza.

“Doesn’t make sense to work in a place like this.”

“It was the deal I made when Miguel asked me to work for him. Chew with your mouth closed.”

“Have you tried the cafeteria pizza?" He asked suddenly, ignoring your demand and speaking with another mouth full of the greasy treat, "It's the new thing. Everyone's going crazy."

You smiled smugly. "I know. You’re welcome."

“Ah, I should've known Miss HR was behind this!” You rolled your eyes at the nickname, rummaging through your drawer before tossing him a few napkins.

“What can I do for you, Peter?” 

Mayday whined, crawling out of the carrier and over her father’s thighs. She hopped on your desk, scattering some of your paperwork. You quickly caught her before she tumbled off the edge, cooing at her before placing her in your lap. You squeezed her in your arms and she let out a scream of delight before squirming, reaching out in wonder at the different knick-knacks on your desk. 

“Right, almost forgot." Peter took the last bite of his pizza, wiping his face and fingers with the napkins you provided before his face morphed into something serious. "Is this guy bothering you?” He pulled out a yellow holo pad, one presumably given to him by Miguel, revealing a video of you and Peter Parker two hundred from the other day. 

You blinked, your eyes tracing the moving image carefully.

”Oh. Not really,” you finally said, ripping your gaze away from the screen, “Nothing I can't handle. Why?” 

“Miguel asked me to investigate the situation discreetly.” 

"Asked?"

"Well, demanded, you know Miguel," Peter shrugged, reaching down into the diaper bag and procuring a lollipop when Mayday began to whine, “he’s concerned. I figured it’d be easier to just ask you about it.” 

You frowned, grasping the sweet when he handed it over to you, pulling off the wrapper and placing it in Mayday's chubby hand, “That’s hardly discreet.”

“I didn’t wanna follow the guy around!” 

“He's making you do that?”

“‘Of course he is. Doesn't like the guy. He barely tolerates me!” 

You snorted. “Why does Miguel even care?”

"You know him better than any of us do. If anyone would know, it’s you." 

Well, that was true.

You knew Miguel before he created the Spider Society, before he was ever Spider-Man. You knew him before his addiction to Rapture, before he experienced fatherhood, before he lost Gabriella. 

Back when, to the world, he was just some guy in a white lab coat. 

But he was never just some guy to you. 

You’ve loved Miguel for years. You’d loved him in your early days at Alchemax, when he was fresh out of college and eager to begin his shaky career, back when you were hanging on to the corporation by a measly thread of an unpaid internship. You were a pair, stuck to each other like glue.

A few years later, when you both decided to take it a step further and mess around, well, that only ignited your feelings further. Miguel was an attentive lover. He knew your needs and fulfilled them, taking you to the heights of pleasure before humbling you just as smoothly with his strict rules about your agreement. 

He didn’t have time to cater to someone's feelings—didn’t have time for a romantic relationship when he had too much on his plate. But his sexual appetite demanded attention—and why not with someone he’s called a friend for years? 

You were just a friend. And that’s all you’d ever be. 

It was just sex. That's all it'd ever be.

“You okay?” Peter ripped you away from your thoughts, his brows furrowed in concern.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You answered with a sigh, gently resting your chin over Mayday’s soft curls. “Is Miguel worried?” 

“You’re the closest thing he has to a friend, of course he’s worried about you. Those were his words, not mine.” Peter shrugged, putting his holo pad away, “so is there a cause for concern?” The thought alone almost made you smile. Almost. Instead, you scoffed, shaking your head.

“I’m usually the one that handles these situations, you know.”

“And who’s supposed to help you?”

“I don’t need help.” 

“Right.” He didn’t seem convinced. “Miguel doesn't seem to think so. You sure?”

“Very.”

“Alright, I did my part!” He clapped his hands as if he’d successfully completed a mission, “Time to go, Mayday!” He stood, grabbing the babbling baby from you and placing her back in the carrier.

"She's precious." You said, gently pinching Mayday's drool-covered cheek as she teethed over her lollipop.

"Takes after her dad." Peter grinned, snatching up the diaper bag, "Listen, if you ever need any help—"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, get outta here, Parker." You shooed him away, quickly organizing your wrinkled paperwork together. You could still feel his eyes on you as you kept your hands busy, and when you finally looked at him he had a silly smile on his face.

"What?"

“You guys are idiots." He was still grinning.

"What?"

"Nothin'," he said, pressing a kiss to Mayday's red curls, "Just do me a favor. Don't mention any of this to Miguel, alright?" 

You crossed your arms, leaning back against your swivel chair. "Sure."

...

"So you think I need help?"

Miguel's hands immediately stilled on your hips as you stirred the boiling pasta over your electric stove. 

You didn't hear him come in, but you had a feeling he’d show up. It had been a couple of days since he’d fucked you, and there were many stressful days between then and now.

So you’d left your window unlocked just in case.

"What are you talking about?" He muttered, his fingers lightly dancing on your waist before pulling away completely.  

"Nothing." You huffed to yourself, cutting off the heat and getting on your toes to reach for the pasta strainer on the shelf above. After a second of watching you struggle, Miguel put a hand on your shoulder to stop you, reaching forward to grab it for you.

"Doesn’t sound like ‘nothing’.” He finally said, observing you strain the pasta over the sink, the steam from the hot water engulfing you both in what felt like a thick cloud of tension. You peered over your shoulder at him, your eyes raking over his solid form.

“You know, Peter Parker two hundred?” You asked, witnessing his face contort from passive to extreme annoyance.

He sucked his teeth, pinching the bridge of his nose. He leaned back against your counter, looking so out of place in your tiny kitchen, his broad shoulders almost the entire width of your cupboard. “I told Peter to be discreet.”

“He said you’re worried about your only friend.” You continued to tease him, emphasizing the word as you lifted the lid to a pot where a homemade Pomodoro sauce was bubbling. 

“I said that?” Miguel muttered, feigning innocence, watching you take a spoon and scoop some of the red sauce for a quick taste. You could feel his gaze on you, his eyes tracing the way your tongue licked off the remnants of sauce. 

You hummed in approval before scooping up some more and turning to offer Miguel a taste. You lifted the spoon toward him, and after a moment of contemplation, he hunched forward with arms crossed over his toned chest, mouth opening slightly to allow you to press the spoon past his lips. 

His eyes fluttered as he savored the rich taste, humming his own tune of approval. 

"Is it good?" 

“Mhm.”

You beamed, eyeing how he licked his lips like a satisfied cat, his fangs protruding slightly when he ran his tongue over them. The same fangs you’ve felt over your delicate skin from time to time. 

Miguel was a biter. You didn’t mind.

Miguel grunted, using his thumb to wipe off a bit of sauce that lingered near the corner of your lips. You inhaled a shaky breath, your eyes fluttering from the heat of his touch.

"What else did he say?" He murmured, looming over you, his hand now gently cradling the back of your neck, thumb caressing your skin. 

"T-that you're worried about me?" You breathed. Miguel pulled you closer suddenly, the faintest noise of surprise escaping you. His suit always felt strange under your fingers, the digitized fabric almost slippery, like fine silk. It was ridiculous how perfect you felt wrapped up in his arms. You sometimes wished he'd show up in civilian clothes. You missed his lazy outfits when he'd throw on an old t-shirt and a pair of sweats. 

You couldn't remember the last time you'd seen him in anything other than his suit (and his naked form, of course). It meant he was always on the clock, devoting all his precious time to the multiverse. 

It meant that whenever he was alone with you, he considered it work.

And yet, the suit made you feel secure and safe—like nothing in the world could harm you. And there was truth to that, though the only thing harming you these days was Miguel himself. But that was your fault too.

The deal was explicitly no strings attached. You were finding it harder to keep up your end of the bargain. 

You gazed at his full lips. You desperately wanted to taste them, to know how soft and warm they would feel molded against yours. If you were brave enough you might have stolen a taste, might have felt those sharp canines for yourself on your tongue.

Miguel’s thick fingers trailed into your hair, gripping the roots with just a hint of pressure, his lidded eyes taking in every part of your face: your brows, your eyes, the bridge of your nose, and your supple lips—wet and swollen from biting them so damn much.

"Maybe just a little," he finally answered, his shoulders shifting in a slight shrug. You could feel his length press against your hip, hot and throbbing, demanding attention. 

It filled you with pride knowing your proximity was enough to get him excited. It shouldn't though. It was only arousal. Basic primal instincts. 

You shouldn’t be feeling pride for any of this. You had to remind yourself of that.

You closed your eyes, willing your heartbeat to slow down just a bit. Could you really be this love-sick? So hung up on a man who was emotionally unavailable? If you hadn’t fallen before, then you knew you were plummeting now, so far gone that you’d let Miguel do anything to you.

So when he whisked you away to your bedroom, dinner long forgotten, you didn’t put up a fight.

He fucked you from behind. 

It was a tight stretch, your wet cunt fighting him as he tried pressing his swollen tip in with little luck. 

"Gotta let me in," he grunted, spreading your cheeks wide to gaze down at your twitching holes, "you're too tight. Let me in." 

"I'm trying," you panted, tears in your eyes as you buried your face into the sheets, "i-it's been a while." 

"It's okay," his large hands caressed the globes of your ass in comfort, "it's my fault. Haven't been fucking you enough, hm? S'my fault." Miguel rubbed his cock through your soaked folds a few times, the obscene noises of your sopping cunt causing him to grunt. 

"Goddamn, so fuckin' wet." He muttered before lining himself up and carefully pushing in again. You cried out, fisting the sheets when he successfully got the tip in. He groaned, the guttural sound masking your tiny mewls as he pushed on, your wet cunt coating him entirely in your sticky essence, easing his entry just a bit.

"Fuck, Miguel, it h-hurts." You whined, the stretch of him both painful and pleasurable as he bullied his way in, his girthy cock plunging through your fluttering walls. 

"Shh, I know." He rarely cooed as he did now, reassuring you with gentle noises and tender touches as he eased into you, balls deep in your core, “Look how good you’re doing for me. S’good.” A fresh wave of arousal dripped from you at his praise, your fluttering cunt allowing him to push and pull as he pleased.

He began a steady rhythm, holding your hips tightly to work you over his length, muttering to himself all the while as he watched how your creamy juices clung to his cock and covered his skin.

The pain quickly subsided into blinding pleasure. Miguel had you mewling into your mattress, your eyes rolling and drool slipping past your lips, your back impossibly arched, and your swollen cunt wetter than it’s ever been. The slapslapslap of his hips against your ass was loud in the quiet of your bedroom, your moans even louder when he skillfully hit something inside you that made you see stars every single time. 

You loved the feel of him, loved the stretch of his cock, loved how your cunt would ache for days after as if to remember him. 

“Coño,” Miguel growled, keeping a large hand on your lower back to keep you steady in your arched position, “you sound so pretty when I fuck you.” He suddenly gripped your hair, pulling you up as he curved over you, continuing to spill filth into your ears.

It was too much. 

“M-Miguel, I’m g-gonna—”

“Cum for me.” 

That was it. The dam burst within you, your eyes rolling back as you cried out, cunt spasming and gushing all over him.

“That’s it,” he muttered, sloppily thrusting into your tightening core, “good girl.”

“Miguel,” you continued to whine, grinding against him, “Fuuuck, I love you.” 

You didn’t even realize what you said until it was too late, so wrapped up in the bliss of it all that your mouth worked faster than your brain could think.

You froze when you felt him still above you. He released your hair, bringing his hand back to your hips before gripping them viciously, chasing his own release. He rammed into you faster, slamming his hips against your ass one final time before letting out a guttural groan deep from within the confines of his chest. You could only imagine how he looked: tan skin glistening, chocolate hair plastered against his brow and head tossed back in pleasure. 

Miguel said nothing as he gently removed his cock from your aching sex, letting his seed dribble out from you and soak into the sheets.

As soon as you turned around he was already in his suit, pushing a few buttons on his watch before he brought his wine-colored eyes to you. 

"I have to go."

“Mig?” You whispered his name softly, your naked body burning with embarrassment, “I-I’m sorry I—”

"I’ll see you tomorrow.” It was the same thing he always said, but it hurt twice as much. It was as if he were on autopilot, disconnected from what just happened. 

You felt your heart plummet into your stomach as you watched Miguel leave through your window with a speed he usually reserved for missions.

His spend caked your thighs. There was so much of it coming out of you, more so than usual, his cum ruining your sheets enough that you’d need to change them before bed. 

You sniffled, eyes watering, tears threatening to fall. He didn’t even kiss your hand goodbye.

You ripped yourself away from the soiled sheets, stomping over to your window as his cum leaked down your inner thighs before slamming it closed, locking it for good.

...

“You made this?” Miles exclaimed with a mouth full of spaghetti, clumsily twirling another forkful over his paper plate. You were handing out some of the spiders' leftover Pomodoro pasta from the previous night. You’d lost your appetite. It’d be a shame if you let it all go to waste.

“Yeah, eat up, there’s enough for everyone.” You scooped out more pasta from a Tupperware and onto a paper plate for Gwen. The younger girl’s eyes sparkled as she grabbed the plate, immediately slurping up a bite.

“Oh my god,” she muttered, lips covered in red sauce, “why are you working at the Spider Society when you could be a chef?”

“It’s because Miguel begged her to work here,” Miles quipped, a lone spaghetti hanging from his mouth.

“And who told you that?” You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Uhh,” his eyes flew over to Peter B., who was waiting patiently for his own plate of pasta to be served. You turned and narrowed your eyes at Peter, who chuckled nervously. 

“Listen,” he began, hands thrown up in surrender, “the kid got curious, okay? He was convincing, I mean, look at those eyes.” You huffed, snatching Peter’s plate and loading it up with pasta.

“You guys are annoying,” you muttered with no bite, shifting your gaze toward Hobie, who sat quietly with his legs thrown up on the table, “Hobie, fuck the government and all that, but you need to get your dirty boots off the table if you want some food.” 

Hobie sighed dramatically, letting his boots drop to the ground.

“Fine, boss lady.” 

Satisfied, you handed him a plate.

“So, let’s talk about you being a chef?” Gwen tried again, scrapping the remaining bits off her plate. 

“It’s just pasta,” you shrugged, pulling out a chair and taking a seat, “anyone can make a Pomodoro.”

“My dad can’t.”

“…why?”

“He’s Irish.”

“And a bloody cop,” Hobie interjected, twirling his pasta with a plastic fork, “hate those.”

“Here we go,” Gwen huffed, the beginnings of an argument forming. You chose to ignore them, letting Gwen, Miles, and Hobie bicker between themselves.

You squirmed in your seat, crossing your legs to cure the throbbing within. You could still feel Miguel, the stretch of his cock, and the inevitable ache that lingered afterward. You were still full of him, your cunt wet even hours later, plaguing you with the thought of never feeling him again. 

You drummed your fingers over the messy table littered with paper plates and napkins, your body hunched forward, lost in thought.

“So…” Peter began, adjusting the collar of his pink robe, “you gonna tell me what’s going on or am I gonna have to force it outta you?” You whipped your head to look at him, brows furrowed as you regarded him.

“What makes you think something’s going on?” You whispered, hoping the cafeteria was loud enough so the rest of the table wouldn’t hear.

“Something’s going on or you wouldn’t be whispering,” Peter whispered back, his blue eyes pinned to yours as he searched for answers. 

“It’s nothing.” You answered quickly, continuing to squirm in your seat, fighting to ignore your achy cunt. 

“Did you guys finally smooch?” You froze, your hands gripping the edge of the table with a force that made your knuckles go white. 

“Peter, what the fuck are you talking about?” You hissed, watching him happily eat his Pomodoro.

“You think I don’t know?” He challenged, “It might not be obvious to everyone else but I know what’s going on.” He winked at you, dabbing a napkin messily over his mouth.

Your heart was pounding, ready to beat out your chest, but you schooled your features as best you could. You swallowed thickly, crossing your arms over your chest as if to make yourself smaller. 

“Okay, fine, you know. What of it?” 

“Miguel’s being mopey.”

“Mopey?” You snorted, shaking your head, “He’s always mopey, isn’t he?”

“This is a different kind of mopey,” Peter raised a brow, “it’s actually kind of… frightening.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s got nothing to do with us, for once. Usually one of us pisses him off enough to throw things but he’s on a mission. Said he needed to clear his head. So what happened?” You sighed, shoulders sagging.

“I might have said something I wasn’t supposed to last night.”

“What?”

“We made a deal,” you explained in a whisper, “no feelings, just…you know,” you wiggled your fingers, hoping it would be enough of an explanation. Peter nodded, urging you to continue, “Well, I messed up.”

“How?”

“ItoldhimIlovehim.” You blurted out, your hands flying over your mouth. Peter blinked with a subtle tilt of his head, before a grin stretched over his lips. You groaned, now covering your eyes, “W-what is that, why are you smiling? Stop it.”

“I mean, one of you had to say it first.”

“Peter, you’re killing me here.” He rolled his eyes, inching close enough till your knees brushed against his.

“You don’t think the big guy feels the same way?”

“No!” You squeaked incredulously, “There’s no way. You should’ve seen him yesterday. He could barely look at me!” 

“You caught him off guard.”

“I know that, but he still could’ve said something. Anything.”

“He’s a guy. Guys are stupid.” You groaned, pushing your hair out of your face. You turned to look at the other spiders. You knew they’d been listening given the way they all turned away immediately.

“Someone is stupid,” you muttered to Peter, feeling dejected, “and it’s definitely not him.”

...

You took a deep breath before placing your watch over the sensor.

The door to Miguel’s office didn’t budge, not to your surprise. Lyla must have blocked the systems again.

What were you even doing there? 

You hadn’t seen Miguel in about a week. That was ample time to inform you he wanted nothing to do with you. You couldn't blame him but still, it was…unprofessional. He was your boss at the end of the day. 

Maybe you shouldn’t have started fucking the head of the Spider Society. Your weak heart wouldn’t be in shambles if you didn’t.

It was a stupid move, you knew, telling someone you love them in the throes of passion when they clearly weren’t on the same page, unprovoked or not. He probably hates you. He must. 

You’d given yourself enough time to think it through and given yourself so many pep talks before deciding a professional relationship with Miguel was for the best. No more friends with benefits. 

No more keeping your window unlocked.

You took a breath and tried again. No luck. 

Did he fire you? That couldn’t be right. You were still in the system and able to enter HQ with your keycard just fine. 

“You’re always catching him at a bad time,” Lyla sighed beside you, whipping out her tiny little holographic phone, “he didn’t even want to take a photo! Unbelievable!” The small image on her screen revealed a snarling Miguel, clearly unamused by the bunny filter plastered over his face. It was cute, even if he looked a bit terrifying baring his fangs. 

Lyla shifted to face you, hands on her little hips as she looked you up and down.

“You look niiice,” she quickly snapped a photo of you, “no cute filter needed.”

“Uhh, thanks?”

“Now it’s your turn to say something nice to me.” The Ai grinned when you rolled your eyes. 

“You look…extra yellow today, Lyla.” 

“Thank you! I’m in default mode.”

“Okay, so I’ll just come back later then?” You rushed to leave but Lyla stopped you, zapping in front of you suddenly.

“Nah, I’ll let you in.” You could hear the door to Miguel’s office opening, “Fix him.” 

“What? How am I supposed to do that?” 

Lyla shrugged, “I dunno, I just know you’re the only one that can.” She waved farewell, disappearing in a glimmer of gold. 

You groaned, dropping your head in your hands for a moment to collect your thoughts. Your palms began to sweat—they always did when you were nervous—so you quickly wiped them over your black pencil skirt before facing the office entryway. 

It was dark as usual, the only light illuminating the area was Miguel’s bright yellow screens. They hung above him as he sat slouched in his chair, legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. His head turned lazily to regard you. 

“I heard you’ve been mopey.” You began, cracking a smile when he snorted. He shook his head, watching you slowly approach him like one would a wounded animal.  He didn’t confirm nor deny the accusation.

“What do you need?” 

“To talk to you.” You said, finding the courage to step into his space, leaning back against his desk and blocking one of the yellow screens.

“About?” 

“Us.” Miguel hummed, running a hand through his messy hair. He sat up in his chair but said nothing else, allowing you the space to speak freely.

“I-I wanted to apologize if I made you feel uncomfortable,” you began to fumble with your fingers, unable to keep eye contact with him for very long, “I know that what I said was…crossing the line—”

“Did you mean it?” He asked abruptly, the question forcing your eyes away from your fingernails and toward his chiseled face. He looked exhausted, eyes heavy but swimming with curiosity.

“W-well, I mean, it was a moment of—”

“Did you mean it?” He repeated, his tone stern as he awaited a proper answer from you. You bit your lip, slowly nodding your head.

“Yeah. I did. Still do.” 

The silence that stretched wasn’t very long but it felt like an eternity. Miguel only stared at you, his jaw tight as he sat forward, his elbows resting on his toned thighs.

You wished you could read his thoughts, take a peek at what ran through his mind. He was always so good at hiding his emotions, never showing an ounce of what he felt. That wasn’t always the case but after Gabriella, he didn’t show much of anything. 

“I think it’s best we don’t see each other anymore,” you finally concluded, crossing your arms, “we should stop.”

“What?” Miguel’s eyes narrowed, “What do you mean stop?” He was towering over you in a matter of seconds, forcing you to crane your neck to look up at him. Your heart was pounding, your hands flying to grip the edge of his desk.

“Mig, we can’t keep doing this.”

“Yes, we can.” He caged you in his arms, bringing his face just a few inches away from yours. He never had much of a problem with eye contact, but you did. You chose to look at his collarbones and the large swoop of his shoulders. It was intimidating and arousing all at once and you weren’t getting anywhere with this speech, were you?

“We can’t. Not when we’re not on the same page.” 

“Who says we’re not?” You felt his fingers graze the side of your face, pushing a lock of your hair behind your ear. You turned away, squeezing your eyes shut, feeling the familiar prick of tears behind your lids.

“Stop playing with me.” You said, pushing him away with little luck. Miguel shifted slightly at your touch, watching you rub at your eyes. 

“I’m not.” 

“Then why have you not said anything for a week?” You hissed, the frustration threatening to boil over, “You’ve left me agonizing over this for a week, Miguel!” You wiped furiously at your cheeks, catching a few stray tears. “I’m such an idiot.” 

Miguel grabbed your wrists in his hands, yanking them away from your face. His concerned eyes met your wet ones, a frown tugging at his lips.

“Stop.” He demanded, taking your flushed face in his hands and wiping the wet streaks away with his thumbs. “Don’t say that about yourself.” You glared, cheeks puffed and swollen from the pressure of fighting away tears.

“Fine,” you snapped, ignoring the way he stroked your cheeks, “you’re the fucking idiot.” 

“I am,” Miguel agreed with a sigh, refusing to release you, “I didn’t know what to say. Thought you might have been lying—don’t look at me like that.” 

“You’re pissing me off.”

“I know, beba.” The endearment startled you for a moment, your glossy eyes peering up at him as a rush of excitement settled in your stomach. He’d never used endearing words with you before. It had you stumped for a second before you remembered yourself, your brows furrowing in irritation

“Why would you think I was lying? Mig, I’ve loved you for years, you buffoon!” Miguel loomed closer with every word before he kissed you, silencing you effectively. Your eyes fluttered, your lips unresponsive at first until he coaxed you into a gentle rhythm. 

Kissing Miguel was so much softer than you imagined. 

You thought he’d be all tongue and teeth, desperate to devour his victim. His kisses were syrupy and deliberate, steady and reassuring. He was taking his time learning the shape of your lips, the plumpness, how perfect they felt molded against his. 

“I’m sorry, beba,” he said between kisses, letting you snake your arms around his neck to pull him closer, “perdoname. I’m an idiot.” You hummed in agreement, continuing to assault his lips sweetly. You couldn’t stop kissing him if you wanted to, sneaking your tongue past the seam of his lips to taste more of him. 

He growled, tightening his hold on you, allowing you to taste at your leisure. He tasted fresh, like the spearmint gum he always had on hand.

“Perdoname,” he repeated, wanting so desperately for you to forgive his transgressions, slotting himself between your legs.

“Yeah? You’re sorry?” you teased, feeling the familiar ache of arousal blooming in your core, “show me how sorry you are.” Another growl ripped from him, animalistic and provoked. He wasted no time, pushing you down so that your back was flat against his desk and your legs were wrapped around his hips. 

He pressed a button beside you and suddenly, the platform began to elevate. 

“Mig,” you sat up in a panic, but Miguel only pushed you back down, lifting your skirt up till it pooled over your waist, “w-why are we moving up?”

“Privacy,” he grunted, spreading your legs, running his thumb over the soaked patch of your panties. Your hands scrambled to find purchase on something over the desk, your heart hammering in your chest as the ceiling seemed to loom closer.

“Y-you know I’m scared of heights!” You squealed when the platform came to a jutting halt, squeezing your eyes shut. You didn’t even want to think about how high up you were.

“It’s okay,” Miguel purred, gently rubbing your clit through the fabric, “you’re safe, you’re with me, beba, no tengas miedo.” 

“M-Mig, please,” you didn’t even know what you were begging for at that point, you just needed something, and whatever that was, he gave to you. You felt him push aside your panties, and you finally spared him a glance, almost choking at the sight of him mesmerized by the sweetness between your legs.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he muttered, slipping a finger through your folds, “you dripping all over my desk.”

“Y-yeah?” 

“Mhm,” he hummed, easily ripping your panties apart before getting on his knees, “smell s’good.” He muttered, licking a stripe up with his fat tongue, scooping whatever mess you made. He moaned at the taste before completely diving in, eyes closed and large hands keeping your trembling thighs spread for him.

As always, you were a whimpering mess for him, mewling with every precise stroke of his tongue. It was the first time he’d done something like this, and god, it was nothing you could have ever dreamed of.  

He moaned into your cunt, the gentle vibrations sending shockwaves through your body. You trembled and whined with every loud slurp of his mouth over your clit, his tongue swiping over your precious bud before working his way down to dip inside your hole. 

“Fuck, Miguel,” your hands flew to his hair, your fingers weaving through the thick strands to keep his head in place. He skillfully nipped and licked the surface, lifting his face away slightly to spit into your cunt, watching it run through your puffy folds with lidded eyes before devouring you again.

“You taste fucking amazing,” he groaned, sucking your clit between his lips.

You threw your head back, letting out the prettiest moans for him. You forgot about everything, about where you were and how high up you were from the ground. You couldn’t care less as long as Miguel continued to eat from you like a madman. 

You could feel the tension in your abdomen, the clear sign that you were close. Miguel continued to drink from you, slurping obscenely at the fresh arousal that dripped into his mouth.

“Close?” He asked, giving you kitten licks, his hands squeezing your thighs encouragingly. 

“God y-yes, so close.” You could feel him smiling against your folds before starting up a vicious rhythm again with his eyes closed. 

With a loud cry, you came into his waiting mouth, your back arching and body withering over the table from the overstimulation. Miguel licked and sucked every inch of you, determined to catch every drop of your orgasm. 

“Oh my god,” you moaned, releasing your grip from his hair and draping an arm over your eyes. Miguel stood, removing your arm and leaning over your fatigued body. He looked down at you with intense red eyes, his mouth and chin completely covered in your slick. You bit your lip when a smile curved at the edges of his lips before he swooped down to kiss you.

You moaned, completely aroused all over again from your own musky taste on his lips. He slipped his tongue in your mouth, allowing you a proper taste. 

“Perdoname.” He begged again over your lips before gently brushing the tip of his nose against yours. You giggled, pushing him away slightly so that you could sit up on your elbows. 

“Mm, I don’t know,” you teased, “you’re gonna have to try again.” Miguel shook his head, tapping a button on his watch, and allowing his suit to vanish. You gasped at his sudden nakedness, your eyes glued to his throbbing erection. Miguel grinned, fangs bared, tapping his cock over your sensitive cunt.

You closed your eyes as he immediately pushed in, moaning as he worked himself into your tight channel. 

In your euphoric state, you barely registered him grabbing your hand and placing a chaste kiss over your knuckles, whispering over your skin. Your ears picked up a few words, some naughty and some sweet, but your heart fluttered and your chest tightened when you caught the last two words before he began pounding into you.

“Te amo.”

[gracieheartspedro]

Cool About It

joel miller x fem! reader

Description: you've only patrolled with him a couple times, which made you kind of hate him. but after a night of subtle flirting at the tipsy bison, tons of alcohol, shooting pool, and making fun of some guy's tattoos, you realize you're really into joel. after you get him, you realize maybe you shouldn't want him.

Part 1/3

PART TWO IS HERE

Word count: 5.3k

Warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, post!outbreak joel, drinking, playing pool(?), possible age gap (not specified really), very smutty, unprotected p in v, fingering, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, joel is a menace a bit, ellie is also a little shit haha

hi lovers, how's it going? this is going to be a three-parter, inspired by Boygenius' song "Cool About It". it's gonna be smutty in all three parts so be ready (: please reach out if you have any requests or just wanna talk! I'm friendly I promise lmao

Met you at the dive bar to go shoot some pool

And make fun of the cowboys with the neck tattoos

Ask you easy questions about work and school

I'm trying to be cool about it

Feelin' like an absolute fool about it

Wishin' you were kind enough to be cruel about it

Tellin' myself I can always do without it

Knowin' that it probably isn't true

You keep your head held high while you walk into the Tipsy Bison, the only bar in Jackson. You were not familiar with the walls of the establishment, but the plan was to get out of your comfort zone. You were good at being a social outcast, and Maria, the only friend you had here, told you to try to break out of your shell. 

So here you are, at a bar. 

Immediately you recognize a couple of familiar faces, including the Millers. 

Tommy and Joel were the patrol leaders for Jackson. You always felt comfortable around Tommy. He was more laid back and funny. On the couple of patrols you did with him, he always made sure the time went by quicker. While serious in times that are pressing, he brought light to darker situations. Maria, his wife, was the first person to introduce you to life in Jackson. She got you set up in a house by yourself and had you start patrolling when she realized you were an excellent shot. She was kind, always making sure you were looking out for yourself and invited you to family dinners sometimes.

Joel was different. 

Very quiet and deadly serious when he was speaking. He made you feel insecure about your abilities, always double and triple checking things behind you. You couldn’t bring your own horse out of the stable without him checking your pack and ensuring you packed extra bullets. 

“You never know what’s out there, girl,” He would tell you. 

You find an empty seat at the bar. Only one seat away from Joel. 

The bartender approaches you, asking what you’d like. You gesture towards Maria.

“Whatever she’s havin’.” 

Maria finally takes notice from beside Tommy and waves at you with a huge smile plastered on her face. It warmed your cold little heart. 

“Hey pretty lady,” She hops out of her chair to give you a half hug, “Glad you are doing this.”

Tommy was looking at you from beside Joel, a smirk playing on his face.

Joel stared forward with no emotion, not even daring to glance your direction.

“How’s it goin’?” Tommy asks, scooting his chair back to begin his way over to you, taking a spot next to Maria. 

You nod, “It’s going.”

“You were on that patrol with the raiders a couple days ago, right?”

He was referring to two days ago when a couple of shitty raiders took down your partner’s horse and almost shot you through the back. You guys got the upper hand, of course. You never went without packing two guns, so you had quickly slid off your horse to find cover behind a downed tree and used a hunting rifle to take two headshots. Your partner wasn’t so lucky. He was an older man and he fell hard when his horse went down. You had to race back to Jackson getting him into the infirmary as quickly as you could. Turns out he broke his arm and a couple of ribs. He would be off patrols for awhile. 

“Sure was,” You reply, “Luckily Eugene got out with just a broken arm. I was happy to be there for him.”

Before Tommy could reply to you, Joel quips up. 

“He told me you got both of the guys between the eyes,” He mumbles, “That true?”

You shake my head positively. You didn’t even want to speak to him in fear that you’d say the wrong thing. He would overanalyze you at the drop of a hat. 

“That’s impressive,” Tommy remarks, “Glad you got out of it unscathed.”

“My girl here is a badass,” Maria pats your shoulder, “Glad you are doing better. I know you were a rattled a bit.”

You take a sip of my drink, noting the intense burn, “Yeah, me too.”

You guys make more small talk, mainly about some recent patrols and what you found. You try to act interested, but the truth was you wanted to go home and read. Your mind was better occupied with made up stories than the stories that were playing out before you in real life. 

“I think we should get home to Ian,” Maria says to Tommy, referring to their newer son. He was about five months now, very cute, and chunky. He resembled your nephew before the world stole him and his mother from you. So you always refused to hold Ian, knowing it would send you into a spiral as soon as his little fingers found yours. Maria understood, telling you she knew exactly how you felt. She’s felt loss like that before, too.

“Ellie probably wants to be relieved of her cousin duties,” Joel grumbles from beside Tommy, “Poor girl doesn’t know what she agreed to.”

“Ian’s sleepin’,” Maria says putting on her coat, “She is probably bored.”

“Tell her to head home when you see her,” Joel comments. 

You have met Joel’s girl more than once. She was kind of stand-offish, intially. Now that you’ve met her a couple times, she was more chatty and goofy. She was a spitfire towards Tommy, which always made you laugh. 

From what you understood, Joel had a daughter before the outbreak. Tommy and Maria keep her name on a little memorial above their fireplace, with Maria’s son’s name scribbled beside hers. You didn’t know the backstory behind Ellie, but you realized the last time you were around all of them, she doesn’t call him dad. Just Joel or old man. Maybe she adopted?

Maria pulls you out of your thoughts, nudging you a bit. 

“Stay awhile, have another drink.”

You nod giving her a gentle smile, “I will. Get home safe.”

“See you around, girl,” Tommy says, giving you a half hug. You turn back to face the bar, noticing Joel’s still sipping on his whiskey. 

You two sit in awkward silence when they leave, not saying much to one another. You drink your second round quickly, calling over the bartender for another one. Joel says he wants the same. Once you get your pours, he finally decides to talk again.

“You still with that one guy?”

You look at him curiously, not sure who he’s talking about. You rack your brain trying to figure out who he’s referring to and then it hits you. 

“Kendrick? Oh no, he’s not anything,” You respond. 

Kendrick was one of your patrol partners. You two hooked up once and realized it was too weird. He was younger than you, which didn’t mean much. But that was a huge factor in his performance. He wasn’t sure what to do. He didn’t know what foreplay was, which meant the sex was dry and not pleasurable in the slightest. 

“It seemed like something the other day,” Joel notes, “Wouldn’t stop staring at you at the town meeting.”

You could not help but notice the slight venom in his tone. 

“Interesting you’re taking notice to other guys who look at me. You jealous, Miller?”

He turns to you finally, his eyes a bit glassy. The whiskey was making him bold, you could tell. 

“Just observant,” He remarks, “He doesn’t seem like your type.”

“Oh, now you know my type?”

He shakes his head at your response, “I imagine you like them a bit older than him.”

Maybe you were overanalyzing the situation, but it seemed to you that Joel Miller was flirting with you. You felt like he was suggesting you were into him. 

Truth be told, you did like them older. You liked a rugged man who was a bit of a mystery. You also liked assholes. All things Joel Miller was. So maybe you were into him.

You lean in to speak to him quietly, “Are you trying to suggest something?”

“Not at all,” He murmurs, “Just answering your question. Am I wrong?”

You purse your lips, “Not wrong.”

Another awkward silence. 

“Wanna play some pool?”

You furrow your eyebrows, not knowing how to respond. You think his goal was to change the subject and avoid more silence. So you just nod, hopping off your barstool. The two of you make your way through some occupied tables to the one empty pool tables. You grab a stick while Joel starts to corral all the balls and set them in place.

You’ve played pool before, but you were never good. Your ex found a pool table once while you two were traveling and he spent hours teaching you how to play. It led to a screaming match. You decided after that, it just wasn’t for you. 

Joel was patient, watching you line up the white ball and hit it with hardly any force, not breaking up any of the balls. You just shake your head in disappointment. 

“You ever play?”

“Yeah, I just suck.”

“Fair enough,” He replies, taking his shot. You guys go back and forth. You getting no balls in the pockets, him getting all the balls in the pockets. 

You ask him about patrols he’s been on recently, trying to make light conversation. You really just wanted to see if your conversation would lead back to where it started. 

It didn’t. 

Instead you two got more rounds of drinks and played more pool. He became more chatty, standing behind you every time you tried to take a shot, giving you advice here and there. Once you stood straight up after finally getting a ball in a pocket, he leaned in a bit. 

“You see that guy over there?”

He gestured towards an older gentleman at one of the far tables. He seemed like the type to have a Confederate flag hanging outside his house. He also seemed like the type to call a woman a slur if they turned down his advances. Maybe you are just a bitch and assuming all of this. Or your assumptions about a man were right, per usual. 

You turn to Joel, glancing up at him. He was close, his face centimeters away. 

“Mhm?”

“He’s got all those tattoos,” He looks towards the man again, “The one on his neck is a skull with one of those Native headdresses. Looks fuckin’ dumb.”

The way he says it sends you into a fit of giggles. He starts to laugh, too. It was the first time you saw him genuinely smile and damn did it look beautiful on him. His eyes crinkled a bit, his shoulders falling in a very relaxed way. 

You finish up your round of pool and decide it’s time for the both of you to retire back to your houses. Conveniently, your house was right off Rancher Street just like his. You grab your coat off the one barstool, watching Joel put on his. 

“We are going the same way, do you mind walkin’ with me?”

“No problem.”

-

You two walked side by side, your steps almost in sync. It was much darker now, the sun set hours ago. You felt like you went through a time jump. You didn’t feel like you spent tons of time at the Tipsy Bison. 

Joel’s house is before yours on the street, so when you arrive in front of his steps, he stops completely.

“Here’s me,” Joel mutters, “You comin’ in?”

“Should I?” You question, stupidly.

“Well I invited you, so yeah,” He suggests, “You should.”

He walks in front of you, reaching for his front door. His house was comfy and warm. Looking around, you could tell he kept it well maintained. It was clean, only a couple dust bunnies lined the hallway baseboards. He had pictures on the walls and blankets littering the couch.

“I ain’t done this in awhile,” He says, sliding his boots off at the front door. You follow suit, not really taking in the words he said. He stares at you carefully, waiting for a response.

“I’m sorry, what exactly?”

He approaches you slowly, his demeanor shifting. He looks down at you, his stature a lot bigger than most of the men you’ve been with, you note. He was broad and brilliantly tanned. His dark chocolate hair was speckled with grays. He had some fine lines on his face, especially where he furrowed his eyebrows 24/7. 

“Brought a girl home.”

His brown eyes grow ever darker, his arm enveloping you for a moment. You don’t pull away, letting him bring your body closer to his. You feel butterflies in the pit of your stomach, something you’ve not felt with a man in years.

“Feelin’ a bit rusty?” You suggest, your hands resting on his chest.

“Don’t know about that,” He mutters, “Do know I’ve been thinkin’ about this for a while.”

His comment takes you back, completely sobering you up. The warmth from the alcohol subsides and you blink at him for a minute.

“What do you mean, a while?”

His face centimeters away from yours, again. You instinctively wrap your arms around his neck, having to get on your tiptoes to do so. 

“Meanin’ every time ’m around you, I think of how amazing your ass looks in those jeans.”

Your heart skips a beat. 

“You’re only now telling me this, Joel?” You ask, playing up that you were annoyed. You were kind of, because what the fuck, you could’ve had him sooner?

“Didn’t think a pretty young thing like you would want me,” He says, “Now I know better.”

He leans down, his lips hardly touching yours. You assume he’s waiting for your move, so you give in first, capturing his lips against yours. It was gentle at first, until he takes notice to how you’re pulling him down further.

He deepens the kiss, pressing your back against one of the walls nearby. His lips were soft, his mustache tickling you a bit. He adds tongue seamlessly, feverishly grabbing you everywhere. Your hips, lower back, your butt. 

I can’t believe I’m making out with Joel right now. 

Your brain stops for a moment when you realize one thing you never thought about before. Where’s Ellie?

It brings you out of the kiss. You pull away slowly, trying not to alarm him too much.

“Is Ellie home?” You mutter, your eyes fluttering open to meet his. 

He looks to the side, glancing out the back window. 

“Probably, but she stays in the garage out back. She has uhm,” He gestures towards the backyard, “Has a whole set up in there. She never comes in here, don’t worry.”

It reassures you enough to bring him back into the kiss. His hands return to your waist, pulling you closer. You couldn’t help but grip his arms, feeling his muscles through his long sleeve. 

“Bring me to bed, Miller,” You moan between kisses, “Need you now.”

He doesn’t say anything before he leans down, hiking your legs up around his waist. He carries you like you’re a light little feather. You use this time to attach your lips to his neck, giving him soft kisses up to his earlobe. 

Joel may be a bit older than you, but he carried you up the stairs like no other 50-something-guy could. He didn’t even fumble, his steps heavy and calculated. Once you two get to the landing, he readjusts you, his hands now holding you up by your ass. 

“Let’s get you out of these clothes,” He murmurs in your ear, walking you into his bedroom. It smells like fresh air, which throws you off a bit. You notice the one window in the corner is cracked slightly, letting in the springtime air. 

He tosses you on his made up bed, making you a bounce a bit. He’s standing over you looking a bit dishelved, his eyes dark with desire. 

He unbuttons his shirt, shaking it off his shoulders. You watch the piece of fabric fall away from him. His upper body is toned, some areas of his stomach and shoulders are littered with scars. The moonlight highlights them, but honestly, they made him hotter. He looked more dangerous, more unattainable for a girl like you. 

“You just gonna gawk?” He teases, leaning down to let his lips meet yours again. In between kisses, he tugs down your pants, leaving you just in your underwear and top. He throws your pants across the room, his hands trailing up your bare thighs. 

“Let me get my top off,” You say pulling away from his eager lips. He sits back on his knees, watching you slowly peel off your top and undershirt. The undershirt has a built in bra that hardly keeps your boobs supported, but it was easier than wearing the uncomfortable bras you usually wore. You throw both shirts across the room before you lean back on your elbows again. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” He says, his hands reaching out to touch you. He finds your collarbones first, before letting one hand trace the swell of your breasts. He was taking his time with you. 

“You just gonna gawk?”

He smiles. 

“I am gonna ruin you, girl,” He spits. You stare at him with your best doe eyes, trying to see what kind of rise you could get out of him. 

He grabs one of your boobs, before pushing you all the way on your back. His lips trace all over your body before ghosting right above where your underwear sit on your lower tummy. 

“Joel-” You begin, until he starts tracing your slit with his fingers, right over your panties. 

“Hm?” He chuckles, his soft touches making you writhe under him, “What, sweetheart?”

“Need you-” You choke out, “Please.”

He chuckles darkly, “Love to see you beg.”

You knew he was going to be dominant, but you didn’t expect him to be so candid. He seemed so quiet and steadfast in day to day life, so when you see him like this, you knew you were fucked. He was the type to talk you through the whole experience, something you’d never had with another man. Everyone you had slept with was so vanilla. No one was like the guys in the novels you read. Dominant, hungry for more, and vocal. 

“Let’s take these off,” He says wrapping his finger around the band of your underwear. You were so giddy now, you lift your ass a bit so he could get them off you. When you do that, your bare pussy gets so close him that you could feel his breath on your mound slightly. 

“You ever been eaten out before, girl?”

You shake your head, “Yes, but I didn’t really enjoy it.”

“Just let me know when you’re about to cum, baby,” Baby, “I know you will.”

You loved how cocky he was. It made the anticipation almost too overwhelming.

He leans down, his tongue flattening over your slit. You watch him close his eyes and instantly get into devouring you. He flicks his tongue up and down, eventually pressing his lips around your mound. You lose all ability to speak, so when he pulls away, you groan in displeasure. 

He says nothing, just put his middle finger and ring finger into his mouth, covering them in his saliva. He looks up at you, those fingers beginning to trace you up and down. 

“You-” Is all you can say before he’s sinking his fingers inside. He reattaches his lips to your clit, sucking as he fucks you with his digits. The wet squelching from the action sends your head into orbit. You cannot believe how good it feels because every other sexual encounter you had the guy would go in dry, maybe giving you kitten licks, and call it eating you out. But not Joel. Joel knew a woman’s anatomy. He knew exactly how to treat it. 

You just moan out his name, letting his actions take you to that familiar heat build up in your tummy. Usually you had to get there yourself. You throw your head back into his pillows, your eyes crushing shut as you take in the feeling. 

“Hey,” You hear Joel growl, “Eyes on me, or I stop.”

Your eyes fly open, watching him return to sucking your clit. As you stare down, you notice him adding another finger into the mix. The pressure felt so good, your walls feeling everything he was giving you. 

“Can I please,” You are about to let go, but you remember you were supposed to tell him, “Cum?”

You can’t even form sentences. 

He pulls away.

“Since you asked nicely,” His lips are wet with your slick, “Cum.”

The magic word that sends you into pure bliss. Your body quakes while he still fucks you with his fingers. You can only chant his name, begging him not to stop. 

He removes his fingers, smiling at your post orgasm face. You blush, suddenly becoming extremely self aware. You had no reason to be timid or shy now, being splayed out like you are in front of Joel. 

He stands tall over you, making you feel so small in his big bed.

“That was so good baby, but I ain’t done with you,” He pulls you by your legs to the edge of the bed, “Need that perfect pussy wrapped around my cock.”

“Jesus fuck,” You moan, still sensitive from what he just did to you. 

He groans, “Name is Joel. No Jesus here.”

He just had to give into the dad jokes. You slap your forehead in disappointment, making him grin a bit. 

“Got you all nice and stretched, now.”

You realize he hasn’t even taken off his pants in that moment, because he pulls down his tented pants to reveal himself to you. He was bigger than you’ve ever had, which sent you gawking again. He pumps himself, watching your widened eyes. 

“You’re too easy to read, girl,” He mutters, “I’ll inch it in, let you get adjusted nicely.”

You lean forward a bit, back onto your elbows, “You’re gonna fucking split me in half.”

He runs his dick between your wet core, which sends shockwaves up your body. 

“Like I said,” He licks his lips, “I got you nice and stretched.”

Him repeating it made you smirk devilishly. He continued to run his cock up and down your wetness, getting ready to plunge into you. 

When he stops right in front of your hole, he stares into your eyes like he’s trying to read your mind. 

“Fuck me, Joel Miller.”

He sinks into you, inch by inch. You groan in pleasure. The stretch is nothing like his fingers, it’s even better. 

He’s taking his time, pulling back a bit before pushing back into you. It’s slow, gradual. After three pumps, he leans down to catch your lips. He continues to grind into you, the mixture so intoxicating. You moan into the kiss, your mouth opening up for his tongue to slip in. He tasted like you, which was something you never really tasted before. 

“Your pussy was made for me,” He moans, “Fuckin’ hell.”

He sits back, bringing the pace up a bit, his balls slapping into you now. The sounds were borderline pornographic. The panting, the wetness, the slapping. 

“You’re takin’ me so well,” He grunts, “I want to hear you.”

You cry out as he speeds up, “Please, d-don’t stop.”

And he doesn’t. He keeps the pace the same as he fondles your boobs. He pinches your perked up nipples, clenching his teeth. You can tell he’s getting close, but instead of chasing that high, he stops. 

He manhandles you, pulling you up like he did when he carried you up the stairs. He somehow keeps his dick inside you as he finds a seat on the bed. He’s holding you above him, completely switching positions. 

“Want you to ride me,” He says, “Need to see those beautiful tits bouncin’.”

You take up the challenge. You rest on your knees first. You circle your hips, dragging your clit across his lower tummy. You never knew you could feel so full before, especially in this position. 

He just stared at you in awe, playing with your tits as you grind down on him. 

You take one of his hands in your own, placing it right below your belly button. 

“I feel you right here, Joel,” You moan, “Fillin’ me up so good.”

You knew he wanted to cum right there because his dicks twitches inside you. 

“You are one dirty girl,” He growls, “You’re lucky I’m even letting you cum again, talkin’ like that.”

You plant your feet on the bed, finding all your strength to start bouncing on him. He steadies you, bringing his hips up to meet yours. This angle hits different, especially when Joel’s thumb finds your clit again. You couldn’t help yourself, chasing that same high you felt before when his face was between your thighs. 

You look down at him with hooded lids, “I’m gonna cum again.”

“Yes you are,” He smirks, “Cum all over me baby, I feel you.”

Your release hits you, making you fall to your knees again. Your hips girate, the spasming around Joel’s cock sending him into a moaning mess. He lets your settle for a moment before lifting you back up. His dicks slides out, which causes him to hiss and you to groan. Instead of laying you face up, he throws you face down into the pillows. 

“My turn,” He says, dipping his cock back into you. As soon as it happens, you realize you weren’t done. That same sensitivity was back, but this time you felt the burning pick back up even quicker. He’s settling into a brutal pace, grabbing both your ass cheeks and spreading them apart. You turn your head, trying to get a view of him. 

He was watching himself plunge into you, over and over again. It had to be the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. He’s dripping in sweat, his body glistening, clenching his teeth at the sight of your bodies meeting. 

“‘m bout to cum,” He moans, “Where do you want it?”

“Fuck it into me, Joel.”

The words slips out so quickly. The tipping point hit you both at the same time, the spasming hitting you all over again. You scream into the pillows, biting into them trying not to be too loud. He releases himself into you, stilling his movements. 

He doesn’t say anything when he pulls out, you both just breathe out loudly. You felt so empty without him. 

You had never cum so much in one night before. 

Joel Miller made you cum three times. 

Without any help. 

You hear his footsteps trail to his attached bathroom, hearing some water run from the faucet. You return to laying on your back, unsure if you could trust your legs to stand. Joel’s figure returns to the room, a damp rag in his hands. He smirks at you all the while nudging your legs apart. He slowly drags the rag around your sensitive area, making sure to get any cum that was leaking out of you. After he cleans you up, he wipes off his dick a bit. 

He tosses the rag into a basket of clothes nearby. 

“You want any water?”

You take note to how gentle and sweet he was being after being so aggressive towards you before. It was a side of Joel you really appreciated. He wasn’t talking down to you, he genuinely took your needs into account.

“I think I’ll be okay,” You respond, your eyes finally shutting, “Don’t think I’ll be able to walk home.”

“You can stay,” He grumbles, walking to the side of the bed, “We both have patrol in the morning anyway.”

Your eyes fly open, “Shit, I do! Wait-”

“Yeah I’m on with you. For the rest of the week.”

You could scream. This man just gave you the best dick of your life and now you had to patrol with him? You didn’t know how you’d be able to contain yourself.

“Fuck,” You place your hands over your face. You settle in the thought that you needed to sleep if you were going to be alive for morning patrol and you’d worry about your horny desires for Joel.

“C’mere,” He says, pulling you further up the bed. He positions you next to him in the bed, pulling some covers over you, leaving your boobs still out for his viewing pleasure. He wrapped one arm under you, letting it rest around your neck. 

His sheets were flannel and so warm. His scent overtook you as soon as you relaxed into the pillows. One of them is the one you bite into earlier. 

You felt at peace, wanting to stay in this spot for as long as possible. 

“I’ll wake you a bit earlier so you can go home and get dressed,” He grumbles, “And…”

You don’t even realize how tired you are. Before Joel can finish his sentence, you fall into a deep slumber, praying sunrise doesn’t come too quickly. 

-

You wake up when it’s still dark outside. Joel woke you up with a gentle nudge. You shoot up, scared for a moment before you take in your environment. You realize he’s fully dressed already. You groan, rubbing your eyes. 

When you start to slip out of bed, you start realizing you’re still completely naked. 

And in Joel’s bed. 

You plant your feet on the wooden floorboards, using the light from the one lamp in the corner of the room to find your clothes. You could not find your panties for the life of you, so you give up and just shove your legs into your jeans and throw your shirt over your head. Joel lets you wake up in silence, not asking you questions until you make it downstairs. 

“I’ll see you at the stables,” He mutters, pouring warm water into a mug that has a tea bag hanging off of it, “You go get changed.”

He was being short, you could tell. You feel a sinking feeling, like he probably regretted what happened last night. Before you could respond, the back door swings open and a smaller frame enters the dark house. 

“Ellie,” Joel hisses, “What are you doing up?”

Her tired eyes are on you. You freeze in your spot, not knowing how to react or what to say. Your head just races with shitshitshitshit.

“I knew I heard your voice last night!” She laughs, “Y’all have fun?”

Your cheeks heat up instantly, not able to think of a response. 

“Ellie!” His voice is stern and borderline scary, “Go back to your room, now.”

It was a demand. 

She just chuckles, grabbing the door handle and pulling it close. 

“See you around, Joel’s lady friend.”

You stand there completely dumbfounded and embarrassed. Joel sips on his hot tea, not really paying attention to your response to Ellie calling you his lady friend. 

“Go get dressed.”

It was another demand. It sent shockwaves through your body. Maybe your sinking feeling was correct. 

Joel only did what he did last night because of the alcohol. It didn’t change how he’d treat or talk to you in real life. You kind of wished he’d just be cruel about it. Like he would just read your mind and tell you how stupid you were to think this would change anything. 

You felt like a fool.  You don’t say anything as you walk to the door and put on your boots. As you walk out of the house, you promise yourself to take it one minute at a time. Don’t overthink everything. Just let it be a one night stand. Don’t make it about your feelings. Be cool about it.

[itz-mfkn-de]

\\ALWAYS YOU//. M.R

warnings— OOC MATTHEO, Im a sucker for toxic boys but I made him extra sweet in his one idk why, uhhh not many tbh, cussing, kissing, smoking, that’s all I think.

summary— Mattheo was your best friend, always had been, but was the title of ‘friend’ enough?

-my first work for Mattheo! I will eventually get a master list going once I get more comfertable posting on here. This is a repost of one of my works on wattpad, just with some tweaks bc that work was olldddd-

You sat against mattheos 𝐛𝐞𝐝, 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 out of his dorm window.

"You know, some times, I'm worried for you. You just stare at things, it's weird." He snickered  as he took a drag from his cigarette.

You looked at him and scoffed, "Sometimes I'm worried about your lungs, you're bound to get some type of problem with all that's smoking you do." You half-joked, glancing at him.

He rolled his eyes, tilting his head up and blew the smoke out of his mouth.

"Seriously Mattheo, that stuff is absolute horse-shit for your body." You stated, accompanying your words with a sharp glare.

"I don't do it that often, just when I'm stressed." He muttered, taking his feet off of his desk and turning his body to face you.

"What happened to the whole 'I don't give a fuck about anything or anybody but myself' thing?" You said, mocking him to the best of your abilities.

"First of all I don't fucking sound like that," he laughed and squinted at you "second, just stressed about life, nothing in particular." 

You softly chuckled at his reaction. His eyes broke from yours, looking at some papers on his desk. Your eyes, however, never left his frame. You could stare at him for eternity, everything about his face seemed so perfect, almost as if it were meant to be admired.

You soon realized your staring and quickly averted your gaze towards the window again.

"You gonna go to the Yule ball this year?" You broke the silence, you knew Mattheo hated those things, he hated having to be around a shit ton of people and act like he enjoyed their company.

"Probably not." His demeanor changed, his tone became short, almost snappy.

"Oh, I'm probably just gonna go with Becca." You mumbled, knowing that if no guy was to ask you, Becca had your back.

"Hm." He nearly laughed at your remark.

"What? What's so funny?" You asked, looking back at him, his back still facing you.

"Just surprised you aren't going with a random slytherin guy or something." He answered, but the way he had said it has a strange undertone that you weren't sure how to feel about.

"Well I mean I don't know, I haven't been asked yet." You stated truthfully.

"Ah, I see." He murmured, soon after taking another drag of his cigarette.

You felt tension building in the room, suffocating tension. You weighed your options out, but you decided it would be better to give Mattheo some space, for what you were unsure of.

"Well, Becca and Emma told me they wanted to go dress shopping earlier so I think I'm gonna head over there so we can solidify our plans." You announced while picking up your books and putting them in your bag. 

"Bye Mattheo." You said while walking out of his dorm, expecting a response.

You shut the door when you got nothing, you mind raced with the possibilities on what could've caused mattheos strange behavior.

Maybe he'd just had an off day? No that couldnt have been it, he was fine moments before his attitude took a turn. 

Perhaps he was just having mood swings, you wouldn't be surprised with all the trash he puts in his body.

You stuck with that story and walked back to your dorm, which was on the other side of the slytherin tower. 

You reached it, setting your things down, then quickly turned around and nearly raced to your friends dorm.

The second you reached it, You waisted no time to jump on her bed, causing her to jump. 

"Yes, of course you can come into my room unannounced and lay on my bed." Becca said sarcastically. She had been digging through her closet in an attempt to find a dress. 

"Sorry, I just need to vent." You said while propping yourself up on your elbows.

"Go ahead." She sighed and laid her body weight 

"Okay so, there's this guy. He's like my best friend, but.."

She raised her eyes brows, signaling you to continue.

"But I want us to be more, or atleast I see him as more than a friend. I just feel like no matter how hard I try I can't get him to open up, he just.. won't."  You groaned.

"And everytime I get this sliver of hope that I've made progress, he just completely shuts down, leaving me in the dark confused and a little bit heartbroken!" You borderline screamed, your face shoved into her mattress.

"Okay, uh, let's calm down. If he's not showing any signs of being interested maybe you should just, move on- well attempt to at least." Becca stated ,rubbing your back.

You shut your eyes, truly taking in your friends words.  “hey Yknow what will make you feel better?” She nearly jumped with excitement. “Going to look for a dress in town.”

You knew she only had good intentions but the words kept echoing through your head. The thought of keeping Mattheo as a friend hurt, but it seemed to be all you could do at this point without ruining your friendship.

Maybe she was right.

Maybe you needed to accept Mattheo 

was just a friend.

-

All you could think about was the Yule ball. Over the next few weeks the days flew by, the anticipation growing larger with each one passing.

Of course you had been asked by some sweet guy from the Ravenclaw house, and, taking Becca's advice, you said yes.

There was nothing wrong with him, he just..he wasn't him.

You had decided to get ready alone, slipping into a beautiful green dress you and Becca had picked out. You finished your hair and makeup, looking into your vanity mirror.

You felt beautiful.

You smiled softly at how well you had dolled yourself up.

Glancing up at the clock, you rushed out of your dorm room, realizing it was the time you and your date had agreed to meet at the entrance by. 

You walked gracefully through the halls, a large smile adorning your face. Your heels tapped softly against the ground. You neared the entrance, your breath becoming shallow from the nerves. 

Then you saw Becca, she was wearing a beautiful Maroon dress. She looked absolutely breath taking.

"Hey!— oh my gosh." Becca looked at you, her jaw dropping. 

"You look stunning! Like some type of goddess...." She said barely above a whisper.

"Becca! Stop, you can't be talking, I forgot how to breathe the moment I saw you." You hugged her.

You were about to continue praising her and her beauty, but before you could comment you heard someone call your name.

"Y/n..wow.." he said, just loud enough for you to hear.

You turned around to see your date, who was wearing a very clean red and black suit. 

"Oh my gosh hi! Sorry for being a tad late, I lost track of time while getting ready!" You made your way next to your date, not before Becca gave you a sly smile and a push, leaving to go with her specimen she had chose for the night 

"It's okay.., you look amazing." He had said, taking your arm into his. He began to lead you into the ballroom.

"Thank you, I must say, you cleaned up nice." You smiled sweetly at him.

You and him entered the large room full of people, everything was elegant and royal, not a single speck of dust on anything.

You looked around the large room as your date led you down the stairs, you couldn't lie, you felt like a princess. The beautiful architecture of the room, complimented by your stunning dress, felt like something straight out of a fairy tale.

Once you had made it to the bottom of the staircase, you excused yourself away from your date in an attempt to go find Becca again. 

You stumbled past groups of people, many of them were couples having a romantic moment. 

You tried your best not to run into anybody, you dodged dancing bodies and nearly jogged across the dance floor.

You almost missed him.

You almost walked right by him.

You almost could've saved yourself the heartbreak.

But no you saw it—him with some random Hufflepuff girl. 

The way he whispered in her ear, the way she giggled a little too sweetly, everything. 

It all made you wanna cry—or throw up, which one that would be you weren't quite sure about yet. 

"Y/n?" Theodore came beside you and patted your back.

"Theo-Theodore, I thought Mattheo wasn't coming to the dance?" You struggled to get your words out as your eyes darted between the scene before you and Theodore. 

"Oh—uh yeah, he wasn't gonna originally, but some girl asked him and I guess he took a liking to her because usually he just brushes everyone off." Theo answered.

"Oh, I see, I just came to say hello. I'll be on my way now." Before Theodore could argue with your strange behavior you turned your back and walked as quickly as you could back to were your date was. 

You abandoned the idea of going to find Becca, you couldn't accidentally run into Mattheo and his.. friend again.

Instead you decided that distracting yourself with your date would be the best thing for your heart at the moment.

"Hey, sorry , I just saw a friend and got distracted." You said, out of breath.

"Oh. Don't even sweat it, I'm just glad you didn't run away and not come back." He joked, dragging you towards the dance floor. You couldn't help but laugh at his bubbly personality. It was a nice change of speed.

"I hope you like to dance." His hands fell onto your hips, yours made their way to his shoulders.

"I actually hate it." You smiled at him. 

"How unfortunate." Your smile grew when he matched your energy. You nearly forgot what you had seen a couple moments ago.

But alas, you didn't.

You could feel your chest tightening up, the tears bordering you waterline. Just thinking about him touching that girl in any way made you want to breakdown.

"Ex.—excuse me." You tried to excuse yourself as politely as you could. 

You didn't want your date too see you like this, vulnerable, heartbroken.

You urgently walked towards any door in your line of sight. When you finally found one, you ran through it. 

You just couldn't escape him, no matter how hard you tried. He was at every single corner you turned.

You nearly groaned when you saw him propped up over the balcony, smoking of course. 

He hasn't seemed to notice you, still looking out at the stars. 

You couldn't do it anymore, you couldn't spend one more fucking second acting like you weren't in love with him. 

The sad part was you'd rather be his friend than him hate you and be nothing at all. As long as he thought about you, you'd be okay. 

That's what you had been telling yourself, but you couldn't hold onto that lie anymore. 

"Mattheo." You croaked out behind him.

His head shot to the side, looking you dead in the eyes. 

"Angel… what're you doing out here."  He looked back out to the stars, unable to make eye contact. 

"I can't do it anymore."  You said shakily.

He turned his full body around this time, his eyes a dark brown. He blew the smoke out of his mouth, the wind pushing it in the opposite direction.

"I can't keep pretending I don't feel this way.., do you know how hard it was to watch you talk to that girl?" You nearly cried out.

"All the girls you fuck with and then bring them to shit like this, I cant keep lying to myself —wishing that it was me instead of her."

You were on the brink of gasping for air, your head pounded. You couldn't believe you had suppressed these emotions for so long. Every single time you went to Mattheo's dorm, you could barely restrain yourself from kissing him. 

Before you could continue on with your speech 

Mattheo had forced you against the wall. 

His lips met yours in a harsh collision. In an almost immediate reaction, your body responded to his actions, kissing him back with just as much need and hurry.

"You don't get to fucking do that."  He pulled back from your lips, still making sure to keep his face mere inches from yours.

"Every single day, I'd sit there and watch you talk to this new guy, I couldn't do shit about it— I wouldn't let myself do shit about it."

“I knew you deserved so much better than some lousy asshole like me, angel.” His hand held a firm grip on your hips, his other still had its place on the stone wall. 

"It took everything in me not to punch that fucker in the face when I saw him look at you, but I knew you wouldn't want that." You melted beneath his gaze.

His kisses trailed down your jawline.

"During second year, when I went to the dance, I saw you there with Draco, I nearly killed him right after. I couldn't bear to see you with anyone other than myself.. so I wouldn't go, I knew I wouldn't be able to handle it so I never went to another ball again." He gently caressed your cheek with his thumb.

"Until this year." He mumbled softly in between the kisses he was leaving on your neck.

He brought his face back up to yours, his eyes stormy and clouded with something darker than just simple need.

"What'd he say to you? What did he call you?" Mattheo asked with a dark shimmer in his eyes, one you were hoping was just from the moon.

You swallowed harshly, you hadn't realized how dry your mouth truly was. 

"He just said I looked nice—" 

"Nice? You look fucking ravishing. I've never met a girl as beautiful as you, never once in my life seen a girl who could compare anywhere near you...That's why I call you angel you know...,because even if an angel walked by, my eyes would still be glued on you."

His gentle voice tickled your ears, and your cheeks warmed up beneath him.

"You are my angel."

He kissed you again, only this time it was more gentle. His lips held no rush, they were soft and comforting. 

You were the one to pull back this time, smiling sweetly up at him. He pulled you from against the wall, leaving the two of you in the center of the balcony, under the sparkling stars.

"I can't believe we've been friends all these years, and neither of us made a move."

He spun you around under the moon light, the beautiful sky knocking the breath out of you.

"Hey matty..?”You whispered once he had began to hold you in his arms gently.

"Yes angel?" He matched your tone, the sweet nickname you gave him made his chest tighten up.

"I love you." You closed your eyes, shutting them slowly.

"I love you... I always thought I'd never be the type to say that so freely, guess I just needed to meet the right person." He swayed the two of you lightly, finding a rhythm in the midnight winds. 

"Of course it's you... 

It's always been you."

[tiredslepz]

ONLY YOU, GIRL - pt. 1 >

ʚ٭ɞ · how the genshin men (scara/kuni's part) show that it's only you. use of kuni!, a bit of ANGST but its hurt/comfort so dw, will prolly edit this later

You've always called him your pretty boy, which wasn't a lie. He could be a model, if it weren't for him dating you. So, of course, naturally, he gets tons of compliments from the girls at the market when he goes to buy goods for you. He doesn't care, really, since he only loves one person—which is you.

It only comes to your attention when you go with him to the market.

"Oh my god, he's so hot," you hear a voice from a girl on the stand besides him. What the hell? Can't they see that his literal girlfriend is there? You sighed, brushing it off. Your boyfriend didn't seem to notice either, as he inspected the fruits carefully.

You're already finished buying what you need when the same girl comes up to him. "H- hi! Kunikuzushi, right?" she stutters, probably nervous. Your eyes narrow at the sight, but you don't say anything. "Hello?" he scoffs at her, which only seems to fuel her. "I thought you were cute, so, I uh," she handed him a paper with her number written on it, which he accepted. "Thanks–" she quickly scurried back to her friends, squealing. Your brows furrow as he pocketed it, walking back home with you as if nothing happened.

You don't say anything, of course, because you're a secure girlfriend! Right? Well, that's what you thought. After numerous occasions, with different girls, you got sick of it, and decided to confront him. You see him laying down on the couch, scrolling on his phone.

"Kuni," you walk up to him, an expression on your face that he only knows as bothered. "What is it now?" he sits up, placing his phone in his pocket. "About the girls." you huff, now sitting besides him. "What about them?" he raised a brow. You knew he wasn't trying to come of as, well, that, but it sure felt like he did. "I mean," you groan. "the fact that you're accepting their love letters?" you also knew he didn't know how to express his feelings properly. "It's not like I actually talk to them. Plus, I thought you were teaching me how to be kind?" he crossed his arms, his tone taking a defensive side. You hated whenever this happened. "I am, but in the way that you reject them kindly! At least tell them you're taken?" you huffed, the anger bubbling up. He huffed in response, looking away for a moment. "Kuni–" "[Name]," he sighed, cutting you off. "I threw away the letters, okay? I didn't know what to do, and," you hear him groan, since he wasn't used to.. opening up. "i just thought you'd want to keep our relationship, lowkey, or whatever you called it. I do love you. I only love you, [name]."

Your brows lifted, eyes widening slightly in surprise. You took his hand, holding it tightly. "I want everyone to know that I'm yours, Kuni," you sigh, a bittersweet smile on your face. "Is that so?" he looks back at you, moving closer to you on the couch. "I'll make it up to you." you blink, then nod slowly. "How are you gonna do that?"

He simply laughs, cupping your cheeks. "Oh, [name]." you simply sighed in response, the smile still on your face, leaning in. The last thing you see is his grin, right before he pulled you in for a kiss.

You learned not to doubt his love for you after that.

a/n: insert that one audio LETS FUCKING GO?? I GUESS?

[phantomrose96]

Hey not to go all "tumblr is a professional networking site" on you, but how did you get to work for Microsoft??? I'm a recent grad and I'm being eviscerated out here trying to apply for industry jobs & your liveblogging about your job sounds so much less evil than Data Entry IT Job #43461

This place is basically LinkedIn to me.

I'm gonna start by saying I am so so very sorry you're a recent grad in the year 2024... Tech job market is complete ass right now and it is not just you. I started fulltime in 2018, and for 2018-2022 it was completely normal to see a yearly outflow of people hopping to new jobs and a yearly inflow of new hires. Then sometime around late-spring/early-summer of 2022 Wallstreet sneezed the word "recession" and every tech company simultaneously shit themselves.

Tons of layoffs happened, meaning you're competing not just with new grads but with thousands of experienced workers who got shafted by their company. My org squeaked by with a small amount of layoffs (3 people among ~100), but it also means we have not hired anyone new since mid-2022. And where I used to see maybe 4-8 people yearly leave in order to hop to a new job, I think I've seen 1 person do that in the whole last year and a half.

All this to say it's rough and I can't just say "send applications and believe in yourself :)".

I have done interviews though. (I'm not involved in resume screening though, just the interviews of candidates who made it past the screening phase.) So I have at least some relevant advice, as well as second-hand knowledge from other people I know who've had to hop jobs or get hired recently.

If you have friends already in industry who you feel comfortable asking, reach out to them. Most companies have a recommendation process where a current employee fills out a little form that says "yeah I'd recommend such-and-such for this job." These do seem to carry weight, since it's coming from a trusted internal person and isn't just one of the hundreds of cold-call applications they've received.

A lot of tech companies--whether for truly well-intentioned reasons or to just check a checkbox--are on the lookout for increasing employee diversity. If you happen to have anything like, for example, "member of my college Latino society", it's worth including on your resume among your technical skills and technical projects.

I would add "you're probably gonna have to send a lot of applications" as a bullet point but I'm sure you're already doing that. But here it is as a bullet point anyway.

(This is kind of a guess, since it's part of the resume screening) but if you can dedicate some time to getting at least passingly familiar with popular tech/stacks for the positions you're looking into, try doing that in your free time so you can list it on your resume. Even better if you make a project you can point to. Like if you're aiming for webdev, get familiar with React and probably NodeJS. On top of being comfortable in one of the all-purpose languages like C(++) or Java or Python.

If you get to the interview phase - a company that is good to work for WILL care that you're someone who's good to work with. A tech-genius who's a coworker-hating egotistical snob is a nuisance at best and a liability at worst for companies with even a half-decent culture. When I do interviews, "Is this someone who's a good culture fit?" is as important as the technical skills. You'll want to show you'll be a perfectly pleasant, helpful, collaborative coworker. If the company DOESN'T care about that... bullet dodged.

For the technical questions, I care more about the thought process than I do the right answer, especially for entry-level. If you show a capacity for asking good, insightful clarifying questions, an ability to break down the problem, explain your thought process, and backtrack&alter your approach upon realizing something won't work, that's all more important than just being able to spit out a memorized leetcode answer. (I kinda hate leetcode for this reason, and therefore I only ask homebrewed questions, because I don't want the technical portion to hinge at all on whether someone managed to memorize the first 47 pages of leetcode problems). For a new hire, the most important impression you can give me is that you have a technical grasp and that you're capable of learning. Because a new hire isn't going to be an expert in anything, but they're someone who's capable of learning the ropes.

That's everything I have off the top of my head. Good luck anon. I'm very sorry you were born during a specific range of years that made you a new grad in 2024 and I hope it gets better.

[moonsaver]

THANK YOU FOR READING MY RAMBLE ABOUT THIS SLUTTY MAN, I have love-hate relationship with Ratio :3 (YOUR WRITING IS AMAZING AS ALWAYS)

BUT ALSO, ANOTHER RAMBLE HERE CAUSE YOU'RE MY FAVORITE WRITER!!

I don't know if you feel uncomfortable/weirded out with this, but if you do! Please do delete this if you want, it's your choice!!

Imagine a child, it can be one of those children in Penacony or other planets. But I pick the child from the Penacony! Walking up to Ratio and S/O, who is probably bickering as per usual or just enjoying one of another times (Secretly, since Ratio wants to be a secretive or this is same past-rebelious but now Professor S/O!)

As the child tugs on S/O, calling them pretty and hugs them. THEN PROCEEDED TO BE LIKE "kay now, you're my parent/mother/father"

LIKE:

"Hey miss/mister/mx! You look very pretty/handsome/unique! Will you be my parent?"

IMAGINE RATIO REACTION, *IF* THE KID IS GONNA BE LIKE

"oh, you're going to be my dad as well/other father/other parent!

OR THE OTHER WAY, HOGGING S/O ATTENTION. Clinging On S/O, regardless how many times S/O tries to get the kid back at their actual and real parents here, and would sometimes spend time hanging out with the kid while also trying to search for the kid parent

(AND ALSO I'M GOING TO SEND SOME RAMBLE ABOUT ROBIN (if you Dont mind!) MY BABY DESERVES THE BEST)

Hello anon! Always happy to answer brain rots and imagines and rambles hehe. Glad to see you back in my inbox!

Also, so cute hehe.

I imagine Dr. Ratio is actually pretty good with kids. The thing with kids is most of them love asking a shit ton of questions, the most ridiculous kinds at that. And you know those people who are so damn smart and knowledgeable in their field they start thinking about possibilities of ridiculous ideas as actually plausible? Veritas would kind of teeter on that when it comes to kids and their imagination. I just can't help but imagine kids crawling all over him while he has a rubber duck in his hand and explains like.. hawking radiation to a kid who's just staring blankly at him.

Honestly, kids would love him. Hes the strange, serious man who always bends down and tells you really confusing but fun stuff about things and seems to know everything. To them, hes the "actual adult".

I imagine, in the case a lost child approaches him or him with his s/o, his first instinct would be just to gauge the general state. He'll simply watch as you pick up the kid and coo at him and all the willy nilly stuff, just glancing over and checking for injuries, signs of anxiety or confusion, frustration, or fear. After he's done looking over, he'd try to ask the child about where their parents are when they perk up about how both of you are their parents now.

Well.. he doesn't know how to respond. You see his eyebrows raise slightly at the kid's remark, but he brushes it off, and starts telling the child all about your embarassing history if you were the rebellious professor!s/o. If you aren't, just about any silly memories he has of you are at the tip of his tongue, and that you really aren't suited for a parental figure. Even if you try and shut him up, he'll simply turn to the kid like, "do not let those who oppress you, silence you." Or something lol.

He doesn't mind the child being all over his s/o, telling them how pretty they are, asking them if they want to be their parent, and so on. Kids are silly, and illogical. It's in their nature to say anything that comes to mind. Of course.. he's slightly sour inside that your conversation was cut short, and now the child's hogging all your attention, but he vehemently pushes it down, simply resolving to search for their parents with you.

It's not soon before the both of you finally find them. Veritas gives them a stern, subtle warning about losing their child while you comfort them, bidding your farewell. It slightly annoys Veritas when the child clings to you, refusing to let go, and all his parents do is laugh it off, saying "they're just very social!" Or something. He has better things to be doing, really. He just walks off and lets you take care of things from there.

If you ask him if he's jealous, he won't say anything, and stare deadpan into your eyes before shrugging it off and changing the topic back to what you both were discussing before. Both of you can have more productive conversations, really.

Although.. his thoughts teeter a bit, and he shortly ponders over what kids with you would be like.. would he want children? Maybe one.. or two.. or even three..

Ugh, he's thinking too far ahead. He resigns to simply paying attention in the present, and listening to you ramble instead.

[silkythewriter]

Hey, hi, hello! I had this idea for a Vox x reader that won’t leave me no matter what I do. I know you’re probably sick of writing for vox so much lately, so no pressure to do this! Take your time and don’t feel pressured to get it out soon! :D

What if Vox had a short s/o- I just barely realized how short the demons in hell can be and I think would be interesting. Like- what if his s/o just constantly walked on their tippy toes so they don’t seem as short as they really are compared to Vox? I also think it would be hilarious if his s/o was ever in an argument and they just randomly got Vox to pick them up because they want a height advantage.

-🃏

★Vox with a short! Reader★

Warnings!: non pure fluff!

Fandom!: Hazbin hotel

Author note: HI OKAY I DUNNO IF THE OG REQUESTER IS EVER GONNA SEE THIS BUT GENUINELY I LOVE WHEN U REQUEST!, and thank you so so so much for checking up on me last time!, again thank you for requesting and I know I have some of your other request in my inbox so I’ll definitely go take a look LOVE YOUR IDEAS SORRY THIS IS LONG (💧｡•́‿•̀｡)

Summary!: Vox with a short! Reader (￣▽￣)

✾✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✾

“Look at me

I'm as helpless as a kitten up a tree

And I feel like I'm clinging to a cloud“

✾✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✾

OKAY, OKAY, BUT LIKE HE DEFINITELY LOVES THE HEIGHT DIFFERENCE.

Don’t get me wrong, this man would love you whatever height you’re at, but man can he admit he loves when you have to snap your neck up ward just to look him in the eyes. He finds it hilarious. 

He teases you a ton, he blames you for his back problems, having to bend a bit down to kiss you. (Definitely not that he looks like a gremlin in his work chair hunched over stacks of papers)

Don’t get me started on the names he gives you, quite literally calls you doll cause he just loves how short and small you are!

Oh and that thingy you do with your tippy toes? To try and seem just a tinny bit taller? He also finds that hilarious!. Literally watched you struggle to balance yourself and purposely scares you so you slip up a bit and you end up landing in his arms. He’s a charmer what can he say?

Hates when someone else teases you though, that’s his bit, who do they think they are???

Likes looming over you as you do something, he can’t and won’t explain why he likes it he just finds it enjoying

For April fools’ he actually left a bunch of stools around your shared apartment for you (which…actually was very much needed for you, which he burst out laughing at)

He does find himself looking at you from afar and spacing off, he just finds you cute, everything About you, even your height!, he can’t help but just admire you for a bit.

Carry’s you bridle style, girl, boy, or in-between doesn’t matter to him. He loves how small you feel in his arms.

Val and velvet calling you his elf is probably the worse teasing you faced there but if it upsets you Vox is quick to silence them.

Now we’re heading into the topic of arguments…(ﾒ﹏ﾒ)

“Look at me in my eyes when I talk to you!”you huffed watching him roll his eyes “Fine.” Vox says as he picks you up. You two broke into a giggle after that 😭

Whenever your stern talking him he turns his screen into a camera so you can see what he sees needless to say you didn’t talk to him for a week.

When ever you two sit together he uses you as an arm rest here and there messing up your hair but he really couldn’t care much (ಡ‸ಡ)

Likes having you in his lap as he works like I said in my last post about him, he can’t help it. You truly are like a doll to him and he just enjoys having you in his lap and holding you in his arms.

Cuddling is definitely easier as he opts to big spoon most of the time, but if you figure out a way or want to be big spoon he won’t protest to much. He finds it cute like a little koala hanging off his back ( he has stated this out loud before and burst out laughing with you ( =ω= ) )

Purposely calls you to get an item he intentionally put on the high shelf of a cabinet literally his favorite thing to pull on you

“Honey, mind grabbing the popcorn?, my new show is about to come on” he said sweetly as he pointed to the pantry from the couch. You shrugged “sure” you said getting up as you dug through the pantry’s bottom and middle shelves but coming out empty handed and confused. “I think we ran out…” you trailed off knowing you saw it yesterday in there. “Oh, I must have moved it, check up there” he said in a fake remorseful tone as he again, pointed his finger only to the top shelves nearing the roof. “Vox!” You groaned turning your head up as you heard him chuckle behind you.

Picks you up randomly when your not budging and just takes you himself 😭

Overall, he genuinely finds your height adorable!, and aside from teasing, he does really finds you cute. And is careful not to hurt your feelings most of the time…(unless he’s having a particularly bad day) but always makes up for it!. He loves you, and he’ll make sure you know that. ♡´･ᴗ･`♡

✾✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✾

AHHHHH I LOVE WRITING THIS THANK YOU SOSOSOOS MUCH FOR REQUESTING I HOPE YOU ENJOYED PLEASE REQUEST AGAIN!

[moghedien]

obviously there are a bunch of issues with the MCU and I'm not gonna sit here and try to convince everyone that MCU movies are cinema or whatever so don't get what I'm gonna say twisted. I do find their kinda mainstay in cultural media and the dominance they had to be interesting, especially now in an era where the MCU is undeniably falling off and struggling. just as like a cultural analysis I find that interesting and everyone has their opinions of why it happened.

my opinion/theory on why the MCU just crashed is because they sort of forgot what it means to be telling a comic book story, especially a marvel comic book story. Because I've read thousands of issues of various marvel series at this point, across tons of different eras and events, and the thing that makes them last (which is also a thing that drives me personally crazy and I hate so much) is that the status quo doesn't really change. Or when it does, it lasts for a few arcs or years at most and then gets reverted back to the norm eventually. Like the fact that everything is pointless and nothing is a risk is something I loathe, but it is admittedly what keeps them going. If someone just got into comics, they can pick up a modern issue and expect to find Spider-man or Captain America or whoever. They may be introduced to new characters, but the big ones will show up eventually.

And after the last Avengers movie, like half of the mainstay cast are just gone. Which as someone who likes good stories, I think is a good opportunity (which is arguably being wasted but idk I haven't watched any MCU thing in years) to actually shake things up and develop characters that mainstream people are less familiar with and give them a chance to shine and tell interesting stories. But that's not why people like marvel comics.

People like marvel comics because if they want to read about Iron Man, they can pick up any random issue about Iron Man and it will most likely be the Iron Man they know. People like the status quo, and Marvel has never been high literature and has always basically been pulp storytelling, and it gave people status quo and familiarity. And I think Marvel Studios figured this out waaayyy too late.

Because if Marvel actually understood what people like about the comics, they would have embraced recasting major roles from the start. They wouldn't have tied characters' identities so strongly to their actors and would have made it clear that characters can and will continue on with different faces. There is no reason why Tony Stark needs to be RDJ or Steve Rogers needs to be Chris Evans. They would have had plans to not write these characters out of existance the second actors wanted to exit or died or were fired or any of the various reason why actors are no longer involved with the MCU. Hell they had precedent. They didn't have a problem replacing Terrence Howard with Don Cheadle, who are very different looking people who give very different performances, but we know why they felt ok with that recasting but won't recast any of their boys named Chris...

Anyway it seems like they realized that general audiences don't actually like change if its permanent and are learning the wrong lessons with the Doom casting nonsense and the fact that they seem to keep changing what the new story is to fit what they think audiences want.

I'm fine with the MCU dying off and its probably better for media that it does, but again I'm just kinda interested in the fumble from like an objective standpoint because it seemed like they just locked themselves into eventual failure in such a stupid way. Like they could have told the same safe representative Avengers storylines for decades and wouldn't have a meltdown every time an actor in a major role needed to be removed from production if they just accepted that people would be recast as needed. It would be worse for actors and it would be worse for movies in general probably, but it would have kept the MCU churning out pulp like the comics do to this day. But now people are realizing its not just pulp but pulp they don't want and its gonna kill the MCU eventually.

[ideasarestuckinmyhead]

Imagine telling the boys your parents/guardian wanna meet them...

Alphonse: oh shit are they even going to like me???

Boo: Dw about that...

Alphonse worried: why??? Oh my god what do I gift them?? Candy? Do they like candy?

Boo: let's go with yes...But don't worry you'll charm them like you did me!

Alphonse smiling: yeah I can do that!

•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•

Seth: OH! Um should I....make something? Would it be weird if I buy them a alcohol bottle? Fuck how do I impress them-

Scout smiling: how about one of your famous grilling dishes? They'll probably like it!

Seth rushing off: Shit I should start planning. Um Sugar when are we gonna meet them?

Scout: Tomorrow-

•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•

Charlie: OH cool I get to see your parents again!

Casper: yeah but they haven't seen you since what highschool?

Charlie wide eyes: ruh roh-

Casper: it'll be fine let's just think of what to give them!

•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•

Finn panicking: what if they don't like me? What if I say something stupid? What if I give them flowers their allergic too? Aahhhh-

Sunflower soothing him: its okay, breath Bluebell. I'll tell you what flowers they like or can't have around them! And if you can't think of a good bouquet we'll just make them something!

Finn smiling: yeah! I could um make them a drawing!

Sunflower: that's good! I'll think of what to gift them too. Don't worry this'll go fine.

•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•

Faust: oh shit they might hate me-

Star rolling their eyes: oh please you've been working on your people skills.

Faust worried: yeah after seeing I was a dick???

Star: well my guardian is a dick and might like you talking shit with them?

Faust hands on face: what do I buy them? Fuucckk

Star giggling: I'll help let's just think of what outfits we should wear!

•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•

Auron: Okay.

Rook blinking: what not scared they might not like you?

Auron bluntly: Rook if they don't like me they'll deal with it. You don't need their approval to be with me.

Rook sucking in a breath: um, yeah, let's say that...

Auron slightly worried: Right? Rook? I'm a good catch if I need too I can woo them into liking me.

Rook giggling not looking at him: don't worry I'm sure they'll see the you I like!

•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•

Lucien: um Angel I don't think they wanna see their child with a demon??

Angel panicking: I KNOW?? Fuck why did I say I was with someone??? Not that I wanted to hide you!

Lucien calming then down: it's fine Angel cake, I think I can make a human appearance? Ooo I should make them a devil food cake!

Angel smiling: Sure Biggs, don't use all the eggs like last time though!

Lucien half way to the kitchen: can't hear you busy planning!

•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•

Jack: oh sick! I get to meet my lovers parents! Wonder if they'll like me? Ooo what if I give them the discounts tickets I got for an amusement park?

Buddy giggling: my parents might like use them. But good thinking...remember those discounts for the fancy restaurant you worked at for a couple of years?

Jack brightening: yeah! I'll just give them all to them! I got a fuck ton that I still have used yet! We can eat there!

Buddy happy: I think they'll like how your a go getter!

•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•

[shotmrmiller]

i love reading your all works and absolutely love the pornstar! au. i’ve never sent an ask before but reading all the previous drabbles and asks i could help but think about that fated time when reader and ghost have to film a scene again.

theres really not any plot for the video they are supposed to film. the studio just wants another viral scene with the two of them. so they fly them out to a nice location, rent out a gorgeous house with plans to have the two of them fuck on every surface they can.

everything seems to be going well since the last time actually spoke to one another. ghost trys to playfully apologize for picking up the phone while he was having sex (wether he meant to or not) and the reader just accepts it with a smile. he thinks everything is going great until they actually start filming and the moment he slips into her, he knows some is off.

shes making noises, moaning and whining like she usually does but the pitch is off. she isn’t clenching around him in the way that he remembers, in fact she isn’t clenching at all, even though she looks like shes enjoying it. he’s balls deep in her when it hits him like a ton of bricks, shes faking it.

his brain is tryna keep up with everything thats happening around him. the lights, cameras, and (the lack of) sensations all around him, almost become too much to handle in that moment. that would probably be the first time in a long time that he had to push himself to finish.

sorry if this has to many grammatical errors or anything like that, im on my phone rn. but yeah that was in my mind lmao. again love your work 😘

heheheheh ur evil!!!

i love it!!!

and maybe he asks for a cut, he can't do this.

"what's wrong, Ghost?"

how does he bring up the fact that you're dry? he knows what you feel like in the throes of your pleasure, and this isn't that.

"you're not aroused, love. maybe i can use my mouth?"

your laugh is forced. it makes his skin crawl.

"no, that's alright. maybe some lube?"

it's a blow to his ego. what, is his tongue not good enough anymore? his fingers not doing the trick?

is he getting old?

"nothing personal, yeah?"

no. it's everything personal and he tells you so.

"mmmm, no, no i don't think it is. This is work, see. A job. So take your viagra or whatever, get the warm lube and let's get this done. You can lie back and think of london."

he does. he lets you do all the work, hates that your pussy isn't drooling on him like it usually does, your moans and cries so high-pitched and fake, they grate his ears.

he digs his fingers into the meat if you arse as you bounce on his cock and when he comes, it's with your face behind his eyelids, from the first time he took you.

you also pull out as he comes, painting only his tightened stomach with his spend, warm on his skin.

your coquettish smile sets his teeth on edge.

fake fake fake

so fucking fake.

when the director calls it, youre shooting up off the bed, leaving him to clean himself up.

"i'm gonna order some food, you want some?"

as if he could eat with the nausea that rolls through him.

"no? allllrighty."

when he gets a text of his main squeeze, it clicks.

he can't get his cake and eat it too.

[5up3r-50n5]

(Ps. I want this to be a funny skit, so no hate pls)

Gwen:*giggling suspiciously*

Miles:Ummm... Gwen? I'm probably gonna regret asking but...what are you doing?

Gwen:MILES! MY MAN! YOU CAME JUST IN TIME!!

Miles:Y'Know what? I better go home! See you late-

Gwen: NHU UH! YOU ARE IN THIS WITH ME NOW!

Miles:I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT ARE TALKING ABOUT

Gwen:Oh Yea you're right, ok so *hand him a pack of wipes*, you know what they are right?

Miles:...Whipes

Gwen:Almost! These are homemade wipes! And guess what they do!

Miles:shit what do girls do with wipes

Miles:...Clean...makeup?

Gwen:WRONG!! Well not really... BUT THESE ONES ARE DIFFERENT! You see these don't clean makeup they applie it!

Miles:

Miles:

Miles:

Miles:??????

Gwen:YES! They applies fondation! Light skin fondation! Plus It's hard to clean in even with makeup remover

Miles:Gweeen...you don't want to use it on me...right?

Gwen:Nhaa don't worry double M I need you for my plan

Miles:...Double M?...wait what plan?

Gwen:I want to use it on Hobie-

Miles:I'm in

Gwen:...you didn't even heard the rest-

Miles:I said *get closer to Gwen and put his hands on her shoulders* I.am.in. When do we start

Gwen:That's why I love you

Miles:What

Gwen:I said I'm glad I have you...for this plan

.

.

.

(At Hobie's house)

Gwen:Hobie...we need to tell you something...

Hobie:A'ight but ma'e it quick, I have a date with Pav in fiv' minutes

Miles:Hobie...You're...Shit man is hard to say but you're...white

Hobie:

Hobie:

Hobie:

Hobie:Did you took somethin' on the way her'

Gwen:No Hobie...you have to accept the truth...you're not black

Hobie:Do ya need glasses? Are ya color blind? My skin's literally dark brown

Gwen:I knew you were going to say that, so we took these *takes the wipes*

Hobie:..Wipes?

Miles:Yes

Hobie:OMG...OK FINE BU' BE QUICK ' I HAV A TON OF THINGS TO DO

Gwen:*wipes Hobie’s hand*

Hobie hand:*become light skin*

Hobie:

Hobie:

Hobie:

Gwen:Hobie...?

Hobie:*gets up*

Hobie:*opens a portal*

Hobie:*gets inside the portal'

Hobie:*the portal close*

Miles:Welp! Guess it didn't work

Gwen:Just wait

.

.

.

Gwen's phone rings

Gwen:*picks up the phone*

Pavitr on the phone:CAN YOU TELL ME WHY HOBIE IS CRYING AND BEGGING NOT TO BE WHITE

Hobie on the background:WHY LORD WHY!!!

Pavitr:HOBIE YOU DON'T EVEN BELIVE IN-

Pavitr:OH FOR GOD'S SAKE! I'LL CALL YOU LATER-

Pavitr:NO HOBIE STAY AWAY FROM THE WINDOW! DON'T YOU DARE JUMP-

Pavitr:*ends the phone call*

Miles:

Gwen:

Miles:

Gwen:Wanna try it on Miguel?

Miles:YES

.

.

.

Some Times Later at HQ

Jess:Miguel...?

Miguel:And I thought that my life couldn't get any worst, what a fool

Jess:Tf is wrong with u again?

[heyidkyay]

And I'm petrified of being alone, now | The Aftermath

House or Home?

It’s been about a year or so and they're finally looking at moving in together, properly this time, but Mouse is stubborn and Matty’s… Matty. 

“I hate it.”

Matty all but deflated at the three words, eyes sweeping over to where the estate agent was still stood in the kitchen doorway to the pretty four bedroom house they’d found in South Hampstead. 

In her defence, she still had that godawful smile plastered across her face, as though the entire statement bothered her none, but her eyes told a different story. They were screaming.

Matty couldn’t blame her, not when this was the eighth house Mouse had turned down this week alone. And it was only fucking Tuesday.

“Squeaks, babe.” Matty quietly attempted, mouth opening once more in an effort to get the woman to see sense. The house had everything they were looking for, it was more than perfect and how could it not be with an actual garden that Teddy could run rampant in and a sodding wine cellar to boot. 

But she cut him off, spinning around on her heel to shake her head at the agent in a silent apology. “Sorry. It’s just not gonna work.” It was all that was said before she took off, leaving Matty standing there awkwardly with the estate agent, hands tucked in his back pockets like a kid meeting their mum’s new boyfriend for the first time.

The woman, lovely girl named Mila, slumped slightly but kept up the act, pretending like all was fine and dandy, probably more than used to dealing with shit like this. 

“Sorry love, it’s just a big decision. You know?” Matty tried to soothe, lips pulling into a thin smile made mostly of regret. And it was exactly that– a big decision. 

It had been just over a year since that whole fallout had happened with the media and the sudden silence between them. And shit had cropped up every now and again after it; his management team had been a fucking nightmare to coerce and convincing themselves that this thing that they had was worth trying for had been daunting. But they’d put it all behind them in the end, they’d moved on.

And now here they were, buying a house. A home. Because Teds was getting bigger and bigger by the day, enough so that he now had a proper big boy bed and could ride a bike that took up a chunk of his bedroom. But also because Matty suddenly had a shit ton of crap to relocate since he’d moved out of and sold his London gaff, having slowly slunk his way into the flat he’d come to think of as home. 

All in all, Mouse’s was simply running out of room to hold them all.

Mila waved his apology off though with a single hand gesture, tucking the ipad she constantly held under her right arm. “It’s fine, I get it. Every client’s different.” She told him easily enough, but her smile was still so weary when she looked back at him, “I’ll get to looking for a couple more properties for you.”

Matty nodded, but let his eyes flit back over to the antique cabinets he could so easily picture Teds hiding in whilst they played a round of hide-and-seek, as well as the large kitchen island that they could all use for big get-togethers or family dinners. He gave a halfhearted sigh before allowing himself to take a small step back and follow Mila when she started to turn. “‘Spose this happens all the time then?” He asked her, hoping to fill the quiet walk from the kitchen to the front door.

There was a small pause, and then, “Sure.”

Wincing at that, Matty was more than a little thankful to be walking a step behind the woman, especially when they stepped out the front door onto a porch that screamed American Dream and spotted Mouse propped up against the Jeep’s passenger door. 

He tried to give Mila another polite smile when she told him that this had been the last viewing she would have for them for a little while and that she’d soon be in touch. Matty just shook her hand, thanking her again for her time, before they parted ways and he was walking back on over to the car.

He slid into his seat, hearing Squeaks follow, and didn’t say a word as he backed out of the paved driveway, admiring the stonework that lined the verdant grass and the fenced gate as they drove out of it. With one final glance at the house in the rearview mirror, he reached out to switch the radio on, the AC quickly following.

It was just as he made a left turn at the end of the quaint street that Matty heard a small intake of breath, he waited for the eventual…

“It just didn’t feel right.”

Even with the slight frustration he felt, Matty licked at his lower lip and looked right to hide the slight smile he wore. He hummed softly over the low buzz of the speakers, “You’ve said that about the last sixteen, baby.”

Mouse let go of a harsh breath and Matty felt his grin grow. “Well, then I guess the last sixteen didn’t feel right!” She retorted and threw her hands up in exasperation before crossing them over her chest, fingers moving to toy with the elbow of her sleeve. “I’ll know it when I see it, okay?”

Matty flicked an amused brow in the direction of the passenger seat and received a scornful glare for it in return, so he merely resorted to surrendering, glancing back out at the empty road ahead. “Okay.”

They stayed in a quiet little bubble the whole drive back to the flat. Matty’s mind stuck on the house they’d just viewed, on the long winding staircase, the extra bedrooms it offered, that waterfall shower. By his standards, it would’ve been perfect. It should have been.

It took a little wrangling but he did eventually manage to find a space to park on the overflowing sidestreet that their flat resided on when they finally got home, but it was at that point that Squeak’s phone rang. She moved on autopilot after answering it, unbuckling her seatbelt swiftly whilst Matty turned the car off and locked up.

She had a slight crease between her brow as they made their way up the few short steps which led to the front door and tugged a hand through her hair just as he worked the key into the worn gold lock. 

“Yeah, I can do that. Ah, just–” Matty listened to her pause in the entryway and glanced back, waiting by the radiator for her to shoot a quick glance his way so that he could ask a silent question with just a single look. She mouthed Teddy’s name before she was speaking into the phone again, only proving to puzzle Matty further. “Alright, can you hang on just a sec? Alright, thanks.”

Matty watched closely as she pressed the phone to her chest to muffle any sound the speaker might pick up and chewed on her lower lip. “What’s happened?”

Mouse raked her hand through her hair again and blew out a breath, “Teds has hit his head at school, they say he’s fine but the bumps come up quick. Need him to be picked up.”

It was immediate the way Matty’s pulse quickened at the implication of Teddy having been hurt and so he was pretty hasty as he moved to grab the keys he’d just set down on the hallway’s side, already gravitating towards the door before Mouse could even utter another word. “I can be there in ten minutes, just let them know it’ll be me coming, yeah?”

A year ago, Squeaks would’ve reeled a bit at the entire situation, what with Matty taking charge on matters where her son was concerned and on her not being the one to drop everything just to go and pick him up, but now she barely batted an eye. Instead, Matty watched on as she nodded, face full of relief as she stepped forward to press a chaste kiss to his cheek before she was speaking into the phone again, demanding to know what had gone down.

Matty slipped back out the front door with a slight rattle, his typical gait quickening as he hurried on over to the car, jumping in and starting it up once more before he could even think to worry about finding a better parking space than this when they eventually got back. Mind focused solely on getting to Teddy.

In the time Matty had known the kid, Teddy had only gotten sick twice. The first time had been this little bug, it had given him a bad belly and a bit of a cough but hadn’t affected him all that much. Still, Matty had fretted all the same, nursed him back to health and had barely left his side, even if that had meant listening to the same episode of Blue’s Clues on repeat for three days straight. The second though, that had been a lot more frightening.

Winter had rolled its way back around as it tended to do and the usual flu had taken its hold. Matty himself had picked something up off of one of their roadies during the promotional tour they’d been doing for the latest album in Europe. The tour had only lasted a couple of weeks, but he’d still been jumping back and forth between this city and that just so that he could see Teds and Squeaks as often as possible. But that in itself had also meant that Teddy had ended up catching the same bout of flu, too.

Matty had been beside himself when he’d first heard, guilty for the fact that he’d had the precious little gremlin sniffling down the phone on their next call. But Mouse had just laughed and shook her head at him, promising that Teds would be as right as rain soon enough. But not even she could have prepared for the way the kid had taken a sharp turn overnight.

Jamie had shaken Matty awake at four am, not long after they’d managed to make it to Sheffield and hunker down for the night in some swanky hotel. He’d been bleary eyed and still recovering from the relentless cough that had been wreaking havoc on his lungs for the past week when he’d rolled over to find his manager's nervous face staring down at him. 

Teddy’s fever has spiked, he’d said.

It had been a freight train of emotions after that. Jamie had somehow managed to score him a flight down from Manchester to London in less than a half an hour. But by that point Matty had already been in the back of a cab, trembling hands texting with Adi whilst the woman had updated him on every single thing that had occurred back home. 

Seemed that Teddy’s temperature had risen so quickly, having jumped from a steady 38 to 42 in less than an hour, which had prompted the most agonising hospital trip of Matty’s entire life. And that was including each time he’d fucked up and been wheeled there himself. 

It had taken him just over two hours to get down to them, so by that point Teddy had only just been properly seen and Mouse was in silent hysterics. Adi had ordered Finn to come pick him up from the airport, but back then the two of them had still been in this awkward sort of stalemate and so neither had spoken a word apart from when the other man had finally attempted to calm Matty’s anxious tapping. 

“He’ll be okay.” It was all that he had said, but Matty had found himself nodding along in quiet agreement all the same whilst he’d rattled his phone against his knee, ready to jump out of the car at a second's notice.

Driving over to collect the kid from school now, Matty felt that same agitation. The need to just be there, to see for himself that Teddy was okay. It was all that he could do to not hightail it over and fuck every traffic law he could somewhat remember just to ebb the sinking feeling that had wormed its way into his gut.

He did eventually manage to get there, making it in just under ten minutes after he’d accidentally ran a red and parked in a teacher's bay outside. 

The receptionist startled a tad at his sudden appearance, eyes probably as big as saucers and darting about the room in hopes to find Teds stood waiting there for him. But the kid was nowhere to be seen, and so Matty crossed the room to speak to her.

“Hi, here to collect Teddy? You rang, said something about him hitting his head?”

Matty had dropped Teddy to and from school more times than he could count, but collecting him from the office? That was something he’d never done before. Never even thought about, actually. And so he was fucking unsure on what the fuck kind of etiquette these people were supposed to use here. Did she need his ID, his passport? A picture of him and Teddy ice skating?

“Oh! Okay then, I’ll just fetch him for you. If you could sign him out here for me?” She pointed towards a clipboard and pen sat just off to the side and then smiled one last time before she wandered away.

Matty blinked and watched her slip out a side door. Was that it?

All he had to do was just sign the kid out? 

Matty released a heavy breath and shook his head at the thought, figuring it best to just do as was expected and have a word about it with Squeaks later on, maybe it was just something he was missing.

As it happened, he’d just finished scrawling down the last of his name when the door inside the office squeaked open causing him to jolt the y in Healy as his head snapped up.

It was as though all the tension he’d ever felt seeped out of him in that very moment. Years of stress from fucking performing, of trying to get through his own stupid exams back at school, and maybe even the trouble of having dealt with his parents and their shitty divorce. All of it just vanished when he looked over to find Teddy already grinning at him with his little book bag slung over his shoulder and a Spidey plaster stuck to the side of his eyebrow.

“Matty!” Teddy all but squealed as the kid darted away from the receptionist to barrel headfirst into his legs. Matty felt his heart give out a little at the sight of the tyke, obviously not as traumatised as he’d been expecting him to be.

“Alright, monster?” He replied softly, bending down a tad to scoop Teddy up into his arms, eyes flickering over every inch of his face just to be certain he wasn't hiding any other injuries. “Heard you had a bit of a tumble.”

Teddy nodded, almost excitedly, and Matty fought not to shake his head, utterly bewildered by the fact that the kid wasn't more phased. He almost wanted to scream, in truth. This amount of worrying wasn’t typical, alright? And he was fucking getting up there in age! All the stupid shit he’d managed to achieve during his livelier years and the life choices he’d made added up in the end, didn’t they? So it was an honest to God miracle that he hadn’t suffered a sodding aneurysm on the way over here, or something of the sort. 

“Just a little fall apparently.” Matty heard someone say and he looked up only to be reminded of the fact that the receptionist was still standing there, watching. She gifted him a sweet smile, eyes caught on the way Teddy clung to his neck and the way he appeared to cling back. “There’s an accident report in his bag for you to look at, they go home with all the little ones. The nurse said it wasn’t anything too big and that he should be fine, but it’s best to keep an eye on these things so if anything out of the ordinary does happen it’s best to take him to the local A&E.”

Matty felt his mouth go dry at the very implication and so he wet his lower lip just before he exhaled a little shakily. “Right,” He swallowed thickly, hand smoothing over a riot of curls and pausing on the small bump he felt at the top of Teddy’s head. “And the plaster?”

The woman blinked and weirdly Matty felt a little caught out, as though he was suddenly this afternoon's entertainment. He wondered briefly if she knew just who he was. 

“That’ll have been jotted down on the report too, but from what I heard it was just a little cut above the brow.” The receptionist answered him, extending an arm out to pat Teddy’s back before she stepped away again, “You really were brave today, Teddy.”

The kid puffed up at that, smiling proudly, but his eyes remained glued on Matty and so he returned the bright grin, kissing the side of Teddy’s head before he hitched him up further on his hip. “No stitches then?”

“Tiniest of scratches.” The woman assured him around a wide smile as she shook her head and waved his worries off.

Matty dipped his head in a slight nod, looking down at Teddy once more. “Anything else I need to do then, or?” He asked, letting that or drag out as he inched closer towards the door he’d previously barreled through.

“You should be good to go.” She told him, eyes still lingering. “It was nice to meet you though!”

“Yeah,” Matty replied as he struggled with the door, “you too.”

By the time the pair of them made it back outside and into the car Teddy was keeping up a constant babble, explaining (but not actually) just how he’d fallen and hit his head. From what Matty could make out it was when he was running to escape the fishmen? And so he could only guess that him and his mates had been playing a weird round of a tag at breaktime and Teddy had taken a plunge into the wrong kind of waters. 

“You’re sure you’re okay though, mate?” Matty asked him once they were about a minute or two away from the flat and Teddy’s ramblings had died out a tad. He glanced in the rear mirror to find Teds picking at the plaster above his brow.

“Uhuh.” Was the answer he received in turn and it was enough to dislodge the last of that worry that had been eating away at his chest. 

Matty figured then was as good a time as any to try and talk with him a little. The whole drive back from viewing that house, before they’d gotten the scare from the school, he’d been thinking and thinking. Enough to have concocted the beginnings of a small plan. 

“Remember how we was talking about looking for a new house, Teds?”

Matty’s thumbs tapped at the top of the steering wheel as he waited for a reply, oddly grateful for the small queue of traffic that sat up ahead. It would give them a bit more time.

“Yeah, you said a garden!” Teddy answered him and Matty figured he seemed excited enough about it all when the toe of the kid’s school shoe kicked the back of his chair. “That could mean a dog, right? Taylor has a dog!”

Matty fought back a laugh, the lad’s only just performed a stunt that’s gone tits up and landed him with a wound to the head but he’s more worried over when or if they’ll be getting a dog. Though, to be fair to him, a dog did sound nice. He could picture one now, out there on that grassy patch of land behind that particular house rolling about with Teddy. 

“That’s cool, mate. But I was just wondering what you thought about it all. A new house could mean a bigger bedroom for you, you know? Could have a couple sleepovers maybe, with a few of your friends from school.”

Matty didn’t have to glance back to know that Teddy’s eyes had shot open wide, he heard it all in that delighted little gasp he made. He chuckled.

“And remember my old house? How we used to make pancakes in the kitchen whenever you and mum would stay over?” Matty reminded him, eyes flicking up into the mirror to watch Teds nod at him, “Reckon we could do that again in the new house ‘cause it’d be a lot bigger, means we could all fit in there. Could even do your homework whilst we cooked in the evenings. How’s that sound?”

“Don’t like homework though.”

Matty laughed as the traffic started to pick up again, he moved to shift into gear. “Me neither, little man. But you’re a whole lot smarter than me so I reckon if we roped mum into helping too it’d all be done a lot quicker. And we could do that in the new house, don’t you reckon?”

“Yeah, and then I could get my Spidey walls!” Teddy exclaimed, bouncing in his carseat now, enough so that Matty was honestly a little fretful that he’d fall out of the thing. 

“You remembered that one, hey?” 

“You promised, ‘member!” Teddy shot back at him just as Matty turned onto their street, shoulders slumping in relief when he found that there was a space free a little further down.

“Yeah, I do, mate. Swear I haven’t forgotten.” He reassured and smiled to himself as he parked up and continued to listen to the dreams Teddy had for his future bedroom. And fuck anyone who thought he wouldn’t make them happen.

The two of them walked down the street hand in hand once Matty had pulled the monster free from his homemade rocking chair– and made sure that the thing was as secure as it should be. Teddy was happy to talk away, squealing when he caught sight of next door’s tabby cat and then bouncing in Matty arms when he had just about managed to scoop the kid up before Teds had gone bounding into the road to follow the skittish thing. 

By the time they’d made it in through the front door, Matty was sure he couldn’t take much more after the emotional rollercoaster he’d been on most of the day. 

“Squeaks?” He called out whilst he coaxed Teddy into kicking off his shoes and jacket, only just managing to peel the bookbag off the kid when Mouse came into view.

“Mama! Look at my Spidey sticker!” Teds called out as he tumbled on over to the woman, pointing to his head. In truth, it was a mystery how he didn’t take another tumble then and there, what with the way he was skidding about all over the floors. 

Matty let go of a weighted sigh and took to shucking off his own shit, dropping his boots onto the shoe stand before he hung up his jacket beside Teddy’s. When he stood back on his feet Teds had already hurried off into the living room, happy to be home from school again it seemed and not caring about the grape sized lump protruding from the side of his head.

Mouse quirked a brow at him when he stepped nearer, hiding her amused smile at his wary appearance, but still willing to let him wrap his arms around her waist and his head fall against her neck. “Okay, lovely?” She murmured into his hair and Matty felt himself nod slightly.

“Shattered.”

“Life of having kids, babe.” Squeaks chuckled, running a hand through his curls before resting it on the nape of his neck, “Thank you for going to get him.”

Matty pulled away to frown down at her, brow pinched. “Don’t thank me, you muppet. It’s weird.”

She simply resorted to snorting at the reply he’d given and then smiled, “I just appreciate it, is all. That alright with you?”

Rolling his eyes, Matty pinched her side before he slipped away. “Nope. But you can make it up to me by making dinner?”

He received a halfhearted scowl at the attempt but her smile was warm and soft and everything he loved, so he didn’t worry too much as he went to join Teddy on the settee.

Apparently, he hadn’t really needed to ask about dinner because it seemed as though Mouse had already had the foresight to have gotten a start on it when he’d been gone. So after he’d made sure that Teds was sweet and honed into his show, he’d peeled himself off the comfy cushions and headed into the kitchen to help out. 

Cooking together was something Matty had always loved. In the early days, he’d just been content to sit there and watch her work. But now he enjoyed helping out, even if it meant being bossed about or bumping into one another in the too small space.

It was just when they brushed against one another again, as she bent down to open the oven door that he only just narrowly missed toppling over the side of, that Matty could no longer hold his tongue on the subject.

“This place feels like it’s getting smaller and smaller by the day.” 

His words were merely met by a low hum whilst Squeaks continued to check on the food. Matty spared another halfhearted glance around the cramped kitchen, at the small wooden table and the tiny fridge tucked up under the counter. Then at the washing machine that was on its last legs and the pile of pots and pans they had no space for. 

“That house we saw was massive, kitchen was sort of like one of those you’d find in a catalogue, don’t you think?” He pressed a little further, tongue toying with the back of his front teeth as he struggled not to peer back over at her to witness her reaction. “Wouldn’t be bumping into one another all the time if we chose something like that.” He chuckled, but the sound of it was quickly cut short by the slam of the oven door.

“What, so you don’t like bumping into me anymore?” Mouse asked and Matty shifted to find her standing there by the hob, tea towel fisted in the hand she held at her hip. “‘Cause I do. I like coming home to you, to us spending time with each other, even if it’s in silence. I enjoy brushing past you in the kitchen and in the hallway, and even in the bathroom when you claim you have to brush your teeth the very second I do!”

Matty blinked.

“I love this flat, Matty. I love the fact that the rent’s cheap! That we’re chummy with the landlord and the neighbours aren’t half bad. That I can count on them to watch Teddy if something ever did happen!” Mouse exclaimed, staring back at him with those big eyes of hers, chest almost heaving.

“Teddy’s first steps were taken here!” She continued on, as though it had just slowly been building up inside her and had suddenly found its chance to blow. She paused, only to point up at the ceiling to where a splodgy patch of something hung above them, “See that stain? That’s from when Teds had his first bowl of bolognese. And that chip in the tile right there? That’s from when you dropped that planter you got me after you’d come home from tour!” 

Matty stared down at the chip now, noting that it wasn’t the only imperfection in the mosaic of tiles, but one that he could remember making as clear as day.

His silence must have lingered on too long though because Mouse then took his wrist and led him out of the kitchen, she stopped short to point at the plethora of guitars that crowded a corner of the living room. “And how about that mark on the wall? The one made when Ross and George came over for Halloween and all those guitars went toppling over as they chased after Teds.”

Teddy was watching them now, eyes having wandered away from the tele set and over to where Squeaks gripped his hand a little tighter to tug him along behind her and into the hallway. 

She paused by the door to Teddy’s room and Matty already knew what was coming.

“You told me you loved me here.” She murmured, stealing the breath right out of his lungs, before she then turned to spare a glance at the front door. “And we can’t forget that door.”

Matty breathed out a faint chuckle, his startled gaze moving to find hers in the dimly lit hall, only her eyes were glassy and darting back and forth between his own, almost pleadingly. 

“I know it’s too small. And I know we can’t stay here forever. But it’s home. It’s a place made up of all my best memories, Matty.”

He couldn’t think of anything to say to that. Because suddenly he realised that this was why she had claimed that she had hated every house that they had gone to look at. Why she had been so adamant on getting it right, on finding the right one. Why she had made up excuse after excuse to get out of viewings, to turn each one of them down.

Matty reached over to cradle her face before he pulled her in close, hands falling to hold her. He smiled softly when he caught a flash of movement just out of the corner of his eye. It was barely a gesture, let alone a nod of his head, but Teddy knew what it meant all the same and bolted over from where he’d been standing in the doorway of the living room to join them.

Matty understood then. That the flat was a part of them. But moving didn’t have to mean giving all their memories up. It could simply mean creating new ones, better ones. He only hoped that he could somehow convince Mouse of that. Because he knew that she wanted this too, deep down, she wanted a place that could be all of theirs, that they could mould and shift and shape into their own. But she was just so afraid to let go of the past, to take that next step, to leave the memories they’d made here together behind.

But he would show her it would all be fine. Somehow.

So with that thought, Matty went and did the one thing he knew would have to work.

A week passed after that emotional afternoon and things mostly settled. Matty hadn’t brought up another thing about house hunting or viewing talks with Mila, and so he could only guess that Mouse had been somewhat lulled into the sense of thinking that that had been the end of it all.

But then they were on their way back from Hann and Carly’s the next Wednesday, they’d had lunch and talked music, and Squeaks had been none the wiser when Matty had taken the Jeep down a wrong turn.

It was only when they’d pulled onto the street and the gravel beneath the tyres had levelled and softened out that Mouse had perked up a little in her seat. Her brow was pinched when she finally turned to face him, eyes darting around, “Think you missed an exit back there.”

Matty didn’t give her reply as he scanned the street for that familiar number, the weight of an unknown pair of keys sitting heavily in his right trouser pocket.

“Matty, do you even know where we are?” Mouse wondered again before she started messing about with the navigation system on the console. But Matty didn’t pay it much mind, continued to roll the car further and further down the street until they reached that fenced gate he’d exited through the last time they were here. “Matty?”

He came to a slow halt and switched the engine off, shooting her a sly smirk before he slipped out the side door.

“Matty!” Mouse called after him in a hiss, but Matty was already jogging up the few short steps to that painted white porch, a tiny set of keys already warming his palm. “Matty, what the fuck are you doing? You wanna get done for breaking and entering?”

Matty snorted softly to himself whilst he slotted the key into the lock and silently thanked the lovely Mila, reminding himself to get the girl a proper thank you gift if this all worked out the way he was hoping.

Squeaks called out to him one more time as he stepped over the threshold, a smile dawning on his face as he paused to wait for her to join him.

“Matty–” She was a tad bit out of breath but mostly exasperated by the time her fingers caught on the hem of his sleeve, but then she jolted beside him not a second later. He waited, peered over at her to watch her take in the familiar surroundings and smiled when the skin between her brows ultimately furrowed. “Why are we here, Matty? Isn’t this the last house we saw?”

Grinning, Matty linked his fingers through hers and gently lured her nearer. “Doesn’t hurt to take a second look around, does it?”

Mouse must have been more than a little perplexed by the whole ordeal because she didn’t fight him on the matter when he started to move them further inside— and in truth, he was really fucking thankful for that fact because he figured getting her inside would be the hardest task. And yet here they were.

The hallway back at the flat was about the same size as a twin bed and morphed into a narrow corridor which led onto the two bedrooms and the singular bathroom it had to offer. Here though, the entryway was wide and spacious. The current owners had a bench lined up on one wall where a pair of tall windows perched either side of the front door and the wooden floorboards that ran throughout the whole house homed a large vintage rug, which sat beneath a table in the centre of the room and held a rather bright bouquet.

Matty’s eyes stilled on the wide set of stairs though sat just behind the many flowerheads. “Couldn’t you picture Teds running about in here? Like, him storming in after school with all his mates behind him.” He wondered aloud, smiling as he took another step further inside. “And those stairs, I could see us taking Christmas photos there– like mum used to force me into doing back when I was a kid.”

He hadn't actually expected a reply and so he had to dampen his grin when she chuckled sweetly in return, “What, the three of us all decked out in matching jumpers?”

“Or pjs.” Matty countered before he led her a little further away, pointing out the large fireplace which they could use in the colder months and the downstairs loo that he could see becoming a lifesaver as Teddy grew older. “And look at this dining room, baby! We could have all the guys over at once in here, Adi and your mum too! Sunday roasts round ours, hey? Especially once the rest of the boys have littluns of their own.” 

She didn’t say much to that but her eyes were scanning, surveying even, and so Matty took that as a win and together they moved further forward into the famous kitchen. The very room she had claimed she hated the entire house in.

They paused by the entrance and Matty let himself lean against the door’s wooden beam, Squeak’s hand still holding his. Those antique cabinets looked the same as they had done a week prior, but the wash of colour seemed to illuminate under the setting sun that peered in through the old french doors.

“Could move about in here so freely.” Matty heard himself tease, voice soft though in hopes to not to break up the gentle moment. “Picture it. Making you pancakes on Mother’s day and helping Teds with his school work on the countertop there whilst we cook.”

Matty was surprised when Mouse was the one to shuffle on over towards the kitchen’s island, eyes mapping the vibrant fruit bowl and the cast-iron sink. 

He watched on as her gaze was drawn towards the back doors, to where another patio stretched far out on the other side. Slowly, he guided her closer to them, letting her get a feel for it all before he took the handle and opened them up, letting the light spring breeze flutter through. 

“Can you see it? A couple kids filling up the garden. Us standing here, or looking out that window there, to see Teddy laugh and smile while he darts about back and forth with a football or a kite.” Matty chuckled, already picturing it coming to life before his eyes, replacing the firepit in the back with a tyre swing and adding in a grill for him to man come summertime. “Could even get him a dog.”

Mouse shook her head even as they shared a smile.

“I know what you’re doing.”

Matty dragged his tongue across his teeth in hopes that it would dim the strength of his already too big grin. “And what’s that?”

“This, I get it.” Mouse replied, then she shrugged a single shoulder, “But it doesn’t change anything. The flats perfect for now, maybe soon we can look again and I might change my mind.” 

“You’re right stubborn you know that?” Matty acknowledged, because he’d hoped that by doing this, just them wandering through the empty property, that she might have been able to see what he saw. But still, he smiled down at her.

She widened her eyes mockingly in retort to that statement, forever used to hearing it. “Thought you’d’ve figured it out by now, rockstar.”

Matty simply hummed, feeling the slight breeze settle around them, rattling the metal wind chime which hung from one of the outside beams. He casted his sights out across the long patch of grass laid out before them and took a deep breath, mouth twitching ever so slightly. 

“You know, someday we’ll have to start making new memories.” He mentioned, tucking a hand into his jacket pocket.

“I know.”

It was hard not to fall apart then, especially when her eyes trailed over to meet his nervous smile. She tilted her head at him, confused. And Matty figured he just had to get it over with before his legs soon gave out. 

“So why not some place like this?” He wondered, fingers tightening around the hand he still held in his as he rocked back and settled down on one knee.

She didn’t dare move. Staring down at him and the pretty red box he now held, so still Matty wasn’t even sure that she was breathing. 

“Are you serious?”

A chuckle escaped him at the ask and it was surprising because it sounded so genuine, even with the way his hand currently shook. “I reckon we could make a couple nice memories in a place like this. So, you just gonna let me kneel here or will you marry me?”

Mouse tried to keep the smile from off her face, eyes sparkling as she stared back at him, but in the end the battle was lost and Matty ended up mimicking the strength of it.

“Is that a yes then?”

She laughed, bright and loud, then tugged him up to wrap her arms around him. When she finally pulled away her eyes were wet but he didn’t think he’d ever witnessed her happier.

“Of course it is, you idiot.” She sniffed, capturing his jaw between her palms, and she stared at him so earnestly that it made Matty feel so utterly seen. “But it really does need a new lick of paint.”

Squeaks must’ve seen the evident confusion that crossed his face right then because she chuckled and gestured her head over towards the back door. “The house. If we’re planning on living here then I want it to feel like ours.”

At the realisation Matty laughed in disbelief and dipped down to rest his forehead against her own.

“I think I can manage that.”

“You better.” She quipped, pulling him in for a slow kiss before she was giggling to herself. Her eyes were bright and alive even as she narrowed them menacingly at him and prodded at his chest with a finger, “But don’t pull anything like this ever again, you hear?”

“What, propose?” 

She rolled her eyes at the question but that smile of hers was relentless.

“Yeah alright, I hear you.”

[the-power-of-a-pen]

Oh, How I Love Thee

Fandom: Spider-Man 2 (PS5)

Summary: A series of cute moments between Harry Osborn and reader based on Elizabeth Barrett Browning's poem How Do I Love Thee?

Word Count: 3061

Pairing: Harry Osborn x reader (romantic)

Trigger Warning(s): Cursing, 3rd to last scene is reader panicking

A/n: I don't remember the last time I wrote a fic, but I loved the new Spiderman 2 on ps5 and I'm obsessed with/gay for Harry Osborn. Also apologies: English isn't my first language. Also please give feedback -- I have quite a few more of these in my drafts that I'll only publish if these are well-received!

How do I love thee?

Planks, nails, screws, and metal bars were strewn haphazardly across the floor of the apartment you shared with Harry. His eyebrows were furrowed the way they always do when he's determined to solve something. You'd long ago surrendered the instructions to him after his persistent insistence that he could figure it out. Instead, you simply leaned against him as you began organized the mess of a dresser you had attempted to assemble.

"Okay, how the fuck am I supposed to know with one of these screws is the 40 millimeter one?" he complained.

You adjusted yourself so that you were lounging more comfortably next to him with your chin on his shoulder while he wrapped an arm around your waist. “If I had to guess,” you started, “I’d probably read what’s on the top of each screw.”

He scoffed playfully. “Thanks, Captain Obvious.”

You gestured for him to give you the instructions, which he reluctantly did. "It says we need to put the x12 screws into the L2 bar first. Then we- oh for fuck's sake, why does this manual have pictures only? We're trying to build a coffee table, not a fucking time machine."

"Let's just try using the power drill on these," Harry suggested. "There's probably tons of extra parts in here that we can use if we mess up."

"Okay, Brunel. I thought you were a biochem major."

"Hey," he laughed. "Let a man dream. Can you hold this piece up?"

You obliged, and Harry picked up the nearest 40 mm-looking screw and drove it into the wooden bar at an angle to connect it to the bottom of the coffee table. You gave each other a look. It didn't seem right, but it did what it was supposed to.

"Trust the process?" you suggested. "I'm not going to try and read that chicken scratch again."

Harry shrugged. "Fair enough. As long as it stands up, right?"

The two of you repeated the process for the other four legs and the rack under the table. Finally, you propped it up to stand. It was a horrible mess, slanted and barely standing up. Truly, it looked more like a modern sculpture than a piece of furniture.

After a moment of silence, Harry said, "I'm gonna order something pre-made and get us takeout."

"Yeah," you sighed. "That's probably for the best."

Let me count the ways.

"I claim Yoshi," Harry declared as he selected the character for the round.

"Basic," you jabbed back. "My main's Toad, anyway. Rainbow Road?"

"Obviously."

The rain pattered against the windows outside. It was a perfect night to stay in.

As soon as the countdown finished, Harry sent a green shell your way and curved around you.

"Cheater," you jabbed as you spammed your controller to get back up.

"Hate the game, not the player," he bantered. "Oh, fuck you, Peach."

"How funny would it be if the bots won over us?"

"Not gonna happen," Harry replied. He threw a banana at your mini-kart and, by pure luck, managed not to crash into you.

On Harry's side of the split screen, it showed that he was on his final lap, with you a decent distance behind him. With the finish line in sight, you pulled the last trick in your sleeve. You grabbed Harry's chin and pulled him in for a passionate kiss, making him entirely lose focus. By the time you two pulled away, you were out of breath, and your side of the TV read 1st Place.

"Now who's cheating?" Although he was trying to scold you, the way he was catching his breath took away from it.

"Oh, please," you remarked. "You didn't mind."

Harry dropped his controller and, cupping your face with one hand and pulling your waist towards him with the other, he mumbled before kissing you, "Damn right I didn't.

I love thee to the depth and breadth and height my soul can reach.

Your phone buzzed, stirring you from your sleep. Rubbing some sleep from your eyes, you fumbled around for it, barely reading 7:23AM off of it. You tossed it over your shoulder and rolled over, hardly getting anywhere before Harry pulled you back into him.

He pressed a soft kiss to your neck and nuzzled into you. "G'morning, babe."

"Morning," you yawned. Your eyes adjusted to the morning light and you tried to massage some warmth back into your hands. A flock of pigeons brushed by your window, tracking in a breeze that brought shivers to your spine. You stirred again, trying to get up this time.

Harry tried and failed to grab for your hand. "Where are you going?"

You smiled to yourself. Harry's morning voice never got old. "I'm just closing the window. It's freezing in here."

He propped himself up on his elbow and commented, "Well, word around town is that I make a pretty good personal heater."

You hummed. "I'll take that into consideration." You sat down on his side of the bed and brushed some wild stray hairs out of his face. "But seriously, just because we have the day off, that doesn't mean we should spend all day in bed. I can make us hot chocolate the way you like it, and we can sit out in the park, maybe try to find something good in Midtown?"

"That sounds great, baby." Harry leaned into your touch. "After a quick nap."

You scoffed as he grabbed your waist to pull you on top of him. "Nothing's quick with you," you remarked.

Your boyfriend just smirked at you. "Part of why you love me." You settled down onto him, resting your head on his chest and intertwining your legs. "Just... five more minutes, babe," he implored you.

"Five more minutes," you agreed, already drifting back off to sleep.

When feeling out of sight for the ends of being and ideal grace.

The movie you had been watching had run its course, and you were beyond tired. You resigned yourself to quickly run through your skincare routine and find Harry so that the two of you could go to sleep.

You finished rinsing the cleanser off of your face and stretched with such force that you got dizzy. Shaking this feeling off, you called for your boyfriend.

"In the kitchen!" he called back. And he was there, but sheltered behind the kitchen island on the floor with his laptop and countless papers strewn around him. The fans in his computer sounded like a helicopter about to take off. "I'm just finishing these last few emails," he yawned. "Then I've got to review the results of bee drones, verify the statistics Dr. Loughran gathered on the organ reproduction project, and then I gotta check if they repaired the particle accelerator yet and-"

You sat yourself down next to him and gently shut his laptop, kissing his temple. "Why don't we deal with this tomorrow?"

Harry sighed and leaned on your shoulder. "I've been putting this off for a while. I'm so close to finishing, just like 30 more minutes."

You ran your fingers through his hair and felt him fighting to stay conscious. "You and I both know that's a lie, babe. The weight of the world doesn't rest on your shoulders. Take a break. The work will be there tomorrow."

"But-"

"What did May always say?"

Harry sighed again, but relented and put his head in your lap. "You help someone, you help everyone."

You arranged the papers around you into a pile and grabbed a cushion from one of the kitchen island's stools to put behind your back. "Let the person you help today be you, okay?"

But Harry was already fast asleep.

I love thee to the level of every day's most quiet need.

"Do you ever wonder what would happen if you used conditioner before shampoo?"

"Not really," you conceded as you took another bite of your ice cream from your place on top of the dryer.

Harry sat on the floor organizing the dark, white, and delicate clothes into piles. "I mean, it's probably better for your hair, no? Like, the whole purpose of conditioner is to break down unwanted particles and moisturize your hair. If anything, it's probably better to do it that way."

"Maybe," you agreed as you hopped down and put the first load in the wash. "But wouldn't that be the same as using fabric softener before detergent?"

"Nope. Fabric softener just coats your clothes in microplastics. It's a long-term way of damaging the bonds between the atoms for temporary comfort. Technically, we should be using something like vinegar instead."

"I'm not putting vinegar on my clothes," you objected.

"Maybe you need to be more open-minded," he teased.

"Maybe you need to keep your head in the game," you teased back, throwing his dirty T-shirt at him. You yelped when he threw a sock your way. "Oh, I'll get you back for that."

"I'd like to see you try," Harry challenged.

By sun and candle-light.

Harry raced past you in the hallway, tugging on a shoe while awkwardly hopping. You sipped your tea from the kitchen island as you stared down the morning crossword.

"Running late?" you asked as he grabbed an apple and tossed it into his bag.

"Yeah," he replied, out of breath as he roughly kissed your cheek and gave you a squeeze before rushing towards the door. "Pete's gonna have to deal with the donors on his own if I don't get there on time. Wish me luck."

"Good luck." You filled out the five boxes for 23-across whose clue read 'Oscar-winner Streep.' "I love you."

"I love you, too," he called as he shut the door. Almost immediately, he opened the door again. "Forgot my keys!"

"They're on top of your nightstand," you called as you heard him tearing your room apart. The jingle of the keys confirmed that he got them, and he bounded over to you again.

"I love you," he breathed, kissing your cheek. "You're the best."

"I know," you chuckled. You leaned around the corner to watch him leave for the second time before returning to your morning routine. You had just finished eating your breakfast when Harry came running in again.

"Missed me already?" you joked.

"Forgot my phone," he explained, grabbing it from beside you. He kissed your cheek again. "But that, too."

"Love you!" you called as he fumbled with the doorknob and you walked to the living room. "Kick ass today."

He gave you a charming wink then slipped out the door.

You turned on the TV and let a talk show play in the background as you cursed at your crossword. This time, it took Harry about 6 more minutes to realize he had yet again forgotten something important. He barged in for the third and last time, profusely apologizing.

"You wouldn't happen to know a five-letter port city of Japan, would you?" you asked without looking up.

"Try Osaka?" Harry filtered through the pockets of his coats in the laundry room until he finally found his wallet.

"That fits."

Harry returned from the laundry room and leaned down, pressing three kisses to your lips. "Okay, I'm leaving for real now. I love you."

"I love you, too, babe. Show 'em how it's done."

I love thee freely, as men strive for right.

"Oh my God, you should've seen the look on Hasan's face when Vijay showed up. Like, I get it, you dated way back in the day, but showing up in all white? So then MJ went to go pull the wine trick on him while I tried to distract Hasan so that he wouldn't notice anything was going on, but of course the universe wasn't satisfied." You huffed and caught your breath in the middle of pacing back and forth in the living room. "You know what happened after that?"

Harry, from his comfortable corner in the couch covered his mouth to hide his amusement. "Jess said something?" he guessed.

"Jess opened her fucking mouth," you continued. "And she was drunk off her ass because she always is, and she comes up to Hasan on his fucking wedding day and starts shouting about Vijay coming over. So at this point, Song is already asking Hasan 'Have you been cheating on me? Is that what this is?' And obviously Hasan would never do that but now Song's upset so the two of them go to argue in the backroom while Keith escorts Vijay out and MJ and I have to babysit Jess for the rest of the evening." You paused and took a sip of your mocktail. "It was literal hell."

At this point, you realize the smile taking over Harry's face. "What?"

He shook his head as he surveyed you in admiration. "You're hot when you're angry."

I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.

"Do I look good?" Harry asked nervously as he adjusted his tie.

You brushed his mess of curls away from his forehead. "You look perfect. You are perfect."

"I really need this interview to go well," he said, biting his lips. "Whatever this guy publishes is gonna be severely edited by Jonah, and if even half of what MJ said was warning enough, we're screwed."

"You're going to be fine," you assured him. When that didn't seem to work, you grabbed him by his shoulders and said, "Your mom would be so proud of you. Don't worry about what you can't control."

Harry took in a deep breath, and, hugging you before going into the meeting room, whispered, "Let's heal the world."

I love thee with the passion put to use in my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.

"Good morning," chirped the barista as you walked in to the small café. "What can I get started for you?"

"Just a small pumpkin latte, please," you replied. You shivered and wrapped your scarf tighter around you.

"Anything else I can get for you? Maybe my number?"

"No, thanks -- that'll be all," you assured her, glancing behind you to look for Harry.

You jumped when he touched your arm. "I've got this one, baby," he winked and offered his card. The barista's eyes widened in realization, and she silently finished the transaction. One of her coworkers finished off the order and handed it to you on the other end of the kiosk.

You unlocked your car with your keys and laughed when Harry rushed to open the door for you.

"What's so funny?"

"You're jealous, aren't you," you jested.

Harry mocked offense as he got into the car on the other side. "I haven't the slightest idea what you're referring to, your majesty."

I love thee with a love I seemed to lose with my lost saints.

Harry crossed your arms on your chest and hugged you from behind to give you that comfort of pressure. "Breathe, babe. It's gonna be okay. This feeling will go away."

Your breathing was erratic, your face tingled, and you felt so dizzy you might pass out. "I could've lost you," you managed to get out between gasps. "So much could've gone wrong."

"I know," he said in a low voice. "I know. But everything's alright. Pete and Miles have a handle on things, they always do. That thing's gone. I'm okay. Everything's gonna be okay."

You rested your forehead on your knees, but Harry didn't let go of you. "I tried to get through to you but that thing just kept on speaking to me, and Dr. Connors said you were too far gone and then MJ told me what happened at the Foundation- fuck's sake you were in a coma for three weeks and you just show up-"

Harry crawled in front of you and gently took your face in his hands. "It was scary for me too, love. I thought it was going to hurt you and-" He took in a deep breath. "The worst is behind us, okay? Let's focus on that."

You nodded and tried to slow your breathing. After a moment: "None of that was your fault, you know? It wasn't you doing it."

"I know." He rested his forehead against yours and closed his eyes with a shaky breath. "I know."

I love thee with the breath, smiles, tears, of all my life;

"Okay, what do you think of this option?" You came out from the hallway with a new outfit and gave him a spin.

"Gorgeous," he breathed. "You look like an angel."

You sat down next to him on your bed. "Babe, I love you, but if all you do is flatter me, I'm not going to know what to wear to the gala."

Harry traced his fingers over the folds of your sides as you fiddled with the invitation in your hands. "Not my fault that my partner's hot."

"But it will be your fault if we're late," you retorted. "This one, the dark blue one, or the black one?"

He hummed. "This one," he replied with a wink. "It'll be easier to take off later."

He got up to leave the room, but you grabbed him by the tie, saying an inch away from his lips, "We'll see about that, handsome." And with that, you strutted away.

And, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death.

You moved the needle onto the vinyl, letting the smooth jazz of Thelonious Monk fill the room. You waltzed over to Harry, and, wrapping one arm around his waist and grabbing his other hand, you swayed to the beat.

"C'mon, loverboy," you taunted him. "Show me some rhythm."

"I'm trying," he laughed, shuffling his feet.

"Baby, a little less Electric Slide, a little more moving those hips."

"Why don't you lead me instead?"

You spun in his arms and put your dominant leg between his legs and hummed as you swayed in a circle. Harry put an arm over your shoulder and started singing along.

"Glee Club paying off," you joked.

He bumped your nose. "Very funny."

You spun Harry as the music signalled that it was near its end.

"Have I ever told you that I love you?" Harry asked as he caught his balance.

You dipped him with the flourish of the music. "More than I can count."

[spaceorphan18]

The Lady Whistledown Papers: 1x05 The Duke and I

Welcome back, Gentle Readers, to The Lady Whistledown Papers, where I’m taking an in-depth look at Penelope Featherington and Colin Bridgerton’s character arcs and romance within the show Bridgerton!

For previous issues, follow tag : The Lady Whistledown Papers

It's episode five! Things are getting spicy! ;) While there's not a ton in this episode, there are some BIG developments...

Tomatoes

Alright, so I should mention before we get too into this scene, that it kicks off with mentioning the money issues the Featheringtons are about to have. It's part of the reason Portia is gonna push Marina marrying Colin so hard. Having a wealthy Bridgerton in her pocket kills two birds with one stone.

Alright, so this is day who knows how long of this courtship has been going on, and after the events of last episode, Penelope is no longer thinking this whole thing is cute or tolerable anymore. It's a combination of -- she's fucking with the man I love and the man I love is being fucked with, which are two different things. Yes, she is protective of her feelings and has no desire to watch Colin be with someone else. But she's also very protective of Colin in general - because they do have a relationship. It may not be romantic, but there are mutual feelings of friendship, and she sincerely does not like that Marina is manipulating him.

But of course - the look on her face here is pure jealousy. Because Colin is bringing flowers to Marina every day. And Marina doesn't really care all that much, but oh, how Penelope would love to be courted, love to be romanced, love to have the attention of any one showering her gifts and compliments. But the fact that it's not just some guy that she could live vicariously through Marina with, it's Colin, which makes it intolerable.

Meanwhile, oh Colin, lost in his own fantasies. He loves playing this role of romantic hero. He brings in flowers every time for Marina -- because it's a way to show he cares about her. It's also, probably, proper gentlemanly contact to bring gifts during a courtship. But it's also interesting -- that the whole reason this tomato discourse kicks off is that he wants to surprise her, be unpredictable, make himself stand out when it comes to the courtship.

Also, I'm really entertained by the thought that a bushel of tomatoes would be used as a courtship device. Nothing says romance quite like the tomato. (As much as I'm being cheeky about it, I do love a bit of spontaneity and absurdity in a relationship, so I do approve of Colin's ridiculousness here.)

I LOVE the tomato discourse. I love it.

I love that Penelope can't even help herself by injecting her comments. She is gonna meddle, but it's going to be on a simpler level to start with. Just a throwaway comment that really doesn't raise eyebrows (at first) that Marina doesn't like tomatoes. Which undermines the act that Marina is throwing at Colin (and Pen so notes this -- and, honestly, she's probably a bit amused that Colin picked something that Marina probably does actively hate).

Then, of course, after Marina kind of brushes that comment off, Pen digs in a little more -- suggesting the best place to go get tomatoes is... Greece. (My god, this cracks me up every time -- is Greece known for it's tomatoes??) And I love that she says this with a smile, playing it off as if she were just trying to be helpful. Then she suggests Colin bring her back a bunch (because I'm sure they'd survive the trip) after he gets back from Greece. Oohh, Pen, it's a longshot stall tactic, but if she can just put this courtship on delay...

It's fascinating watching Marina in this moment. She KNOWS that Penelope is up to meddling. She knows that she's intentionally trying to stop things from progressing forward, but the interesting thing is that she doesn't know why Pen is doing it. I mean, I kind of think it's obvious, but Marina, at this point, has begun to trust Penelope as a friend -- so it just comes off as her being super weird.

Colin, meanwhile, is a bit baffled by Penelope. He doesn't really catch on that she's meddling -- thinks, more so, that she's being a little obtuse, and that is not catching on that he'd rather see how things work out with Marina. But...

There are a couple of interesting dynamics going on in this last little bit.

First of all, the comfort in which Pen and Colin speak to each other says a lot. There's no formality between them. They speak with each other at ease, in the way siblings would talk with each other. Colin, no doubt, probably does think of Pen a bit like Eloise in this moment. He even calls her Pen, here, which is kind of unusual when you think about it, because they're at her house and not his. And the way he kind of dismissively states he's unsure of his travel plans -- it's said, almost irritatingly, in the way you'd want to tell your younger sibling to bugger off, I'm trying to hook up with this girl...

When Pen brings up his travel plans, she mentions that he's always been interested in travel. And while this is a calculated thought - a way to re-inspire desires that he has probably for sure talked about at great length when she's been over to visit Eloise -- I think there's some sincerity here, too. I think she can recognize a desire to go out and see the world, and the idea of him closing the door on that opportunity -- especially for Marina, who is manipulating a relationship with him, and will saddle him with fatherhood at such a young age really does get to her.

Which is why it's more complex than -- I have a crush on a boy, if I get him out of the country, he won't hook up with the pregnant lady and be stuck with her.

Colin then has a line that REALLY sticks out to me. :: 'Were I to go, there are things in London I'd miss more than seeing the world.'

This line hits a little harder when you sit down and think about it. I don't doubt that Colin has an adventurous spirit -- more so than either of his older brothers. But I think also, unlike them (well, Benedict is going to go about it another way) Colin is searching for something. He isn't sure what, but travel seems to be an opportunity to find out.

Marina is a purpose. She's a reason to stay. She's a reason to do the things that his heart really desires to do. She's a person to protect. A person to start a family with. A person whom he does want to figure out his sexual desires with. A person who will let him satisfy the role he thinks he's supposed to have in society. And if that person is right there - then why travel in the first place? He doesn't need to search for something that is right there.

The fascinating thing is that it is better for Colin that he does end up going. He kind of needs those experiences to gain new outlooks on life, to clear his head, to be at peace with himself, and to understand what really missing something when he's away is. And, of course, because he'll find that he'll get to fall in love in a deeper way while he's gone (of course - through his correspondence with Penelope).

And, of course, i can't help but go back to thoughts on The Odyssey -- which is one of the myths embedded in Pen and Colin's story -- the story of a world weary soldier just trying to get back home to his wife... Penelope.

Colin thinks he understands what he's saying when he says that line. But he doesn't truly get. And won't ever if he choses a path with Marina - one that is doomed to be a (possibly) unfulfilled life.

It's always so funny to me when TV characters have private conversations literally two feet away from people who shouldn't hear it, lol.

Pen is probably well aware that the childish meddling she's doing isn't really working, so she goes to appeal to her mother. She points out that Colin is young, yes, but she tries to appeal to her mother's sense of logic. She points out that there may not be enough time to get them married since Colin is young and may not be ready for marriage. Portia considers, but does have her own plans...

Ug, poor Pen, the pining does get me. It'll be alright, girl...

A Plan...

If there's one thing you can say about Marina, it's that she knows how to play this game, and how to do it well so that she can get what she needs. Is it manipulation? Yes. Is she doing it out of self preservation? Absolutely.

She completely plays Portia here (Portia, isn't necessarily stupid, either, but is trying to be calculating in her own right). Marina appeals to Portia's sense of status -- and her desire and need to maintain that status. So Marina basically cuts her a deal. Let me go after Colin, and I'll repay you by letting you stay in your good standing with the Ton. And so the two of them forge an alliance.

But, ah, all this talk of seduction and manipulation -- that's breaking Penelope's heart as she hears it. It's bad enough that the guy she loves is interested in someone else. She has always known or felt that she'd lose Colin some day to another woman. But to lose him to people who do not have his best interest at heart? It's devastating.

But still... she does not go first to her best line of defense, Lady Whistledown... that's the last possible card she'll play.

A Wedding

This is, like, the saddest wedding ever. Man, they look miserable.

Colin seems fine about it. He smiles a bit because it's Daphne, and she's getting married. But not a whole lot of insight to pull out here. He's so detached from this plot line, lol.

A Proposal

So, right before we jump into the Pen and Marina stuff, Cressida approaches Daphne and basically says -- I hope some day you'll pay me to keep quit about the shit I saw in the garden. Like, the girl had a blackmailing mindset even here. I mean, obviously Season 3 didn't come out of nowhere, but it is interesting the seeds they did place for things so early on.

Anyway... Penelope's back to her meddling -- this time trying to get Marina interested in ANYONE else. And I mean, Pen's got a good eye. She's watched all of these people, and I trust that she's attempting to set Marina up with a good (enough) match.

After Marina becomes stubborn about Colin, Penelope opens up. While she's not entirely truthful, she is very open and does lay a lot of it on the line. She admits she does care for Colin. She admits that she just cannot stand back and watch him be manipulated into a life that he didn't sign up for. While she is holding back on the extent of her romantic feelings, she is being emotionally vulnerable, in a way to get Marina to empathize with her. I mean, she is being sincere, and cutting a lot of the mind games crap she had been doing. But she's hoping that a more open approach will help change Marina's mind.

Of course - Marina is out to win. She sees no other options, and she does throw some of it back in Penelope's face. She knows that Colin is a sure thing, and that she'll be treated right. She is not going to lose that chance - because the alternative are the Rutledges of the world. And she just can't take that chance.

It's kind of funny that she still doesn't get how invested Penelope is in this, but she is giving Pen her own moment of emotional vulnerability. She is running out of time, and she will do what she can to secure a good future for herself, and however Penelope feels about it, doesn't really matter because it's ultimately not about her. (And, you know, she isn't wrong, even though we may side with Pen on this one.)

We also learn that Rudledge is engaged and off the market (darn) so Portia tells Marina she'd better get working on Colin... there is a time limit after all.

Before we get to Colin though... we have this brief moment between Pen and Eloise. They've had their fight, and now it's awkward. Neither really quite knowing what to say. But it'll be alright... They always find their way back to each other. But no time for that now! Other plotlines to get to! lol

Poor Pen, no where to hide in this brightly lit, very white room. She can't hide from Eloise. And she can't hide from Marina and Colin. It's just a lot... Just a lot to witness, and she can't do anything about it.

Not at the moment anyway...

The reason the earlier episodes showed Pen and Marina getting along well is to establish the respect Pen has for Marina and vice versa. But this is the turning point. Because Pen had tried to be open about her feelings and Marina was just not playing that game.

Oh, there is some anger in Penelope's eyes. You do not fuck with Colin. You just don't. Penelope would help her with any, every other man in all of England. Just not hers. Pen could accept if Marina truly loved Colin, she probably would let him go.

But the 'act' is going into full swing now, and Pen just cannot with it. She just cannot with how Marina is going to completely manipulate the situation. And even though Pen doesn't get to see what we're about to -- she knows what's happening. Unfortunately, poor Colin can't.

So, what is the FIRST thing Marina do? She needs to get them alone, so she pretends she's not feeling well. And I mean, she gets him. She so gets him. His protector/hero complex is activated and he quickly is not only concerned, but gets her out of there.

And oofff, this next scene is almost hard to watch, because every beat of it on Marina's end is calculated. It's masterful really.

Oh, poor Pen, having a moment for herself of sadness.

But I also just thought of something... had Marina chosen anyone else, she could have really helped Marina. The Lady Whistledown of it all could have helped her. Penelope watches everything, she knows things, and she could have helped Marina in snagging any other man at that party. Of course, she was never going to give up her identity, but it's kind of interesting to think of the what ifs...

Oh man, Marina's smug look when they enter the study. She isn't even trying to hide it.

Colin. You are such a dumbass. (Said with all the love, cause I do love his dumb ass.)

It's funny, Colin is such an interesting study because he's got such a duality about him. Social decorum is something he thinks about (and will very much so in this scene), but he also isn't really one to play by the rules.

In this instance, though, it's his youthful inexperience and naivety that is his down fall. Does he want to be alone with Marina? Yes. But does he sense that she's setting this up so they can be alone? Not even in the slightest. He's still in protector mode. Even the scandalous shutting of the door is about her comfort, not about what she's trying to get.

He may be a little slower, but he's not a complete idiot, and when he takes a moment to asses that she's fine, he gets it. And the wheels start turning. And yeah, he does want to hook up with her. His little grin at his fortune says that.

Marina, however, just has zero time for the drawn out romance Colin has playing in his head. She is direct and gets right to the point. And I love that there's a little moment of freak out that crosses his face. Sure, he wants to hook up -- but he clearly never has before, because the minute she moves forward he does have a sheer moment of panic before he regains himself. He wants her. But he has no idea what he's doing.

And then we get this. This almost kiss. And there's just... a lot to this little moment. A lot.

Because I think it speaks to Colin's fantastical idea of what romance is vs the reality of it when it's staring him in his face.

I do think, yes, base line, he wants to kiss her -- among other things. And I do kind of wonder if he even has kissed anyone at this point, because he's kind of acting as if he's in this place where it just feels... not right. And, not even coming from the societal pressure (which I'll get to in a second) but from a place where -- he has all of these romantic little fantasy of what this moment should be like, and having a rushed moment in the study the way Anthony probably would do it, is not really Colin. Or.. this youthful version of Colin who doesn't have the experience.

I have to wonder if this younger Colin has all these fantasies about kissing his wife for the first time at their wedding and the magical moments he know does happen afterwards. And I think that's why I do think it's a good thing all of this happens because it does end up smashing his idyllic version of romance to allow him to be open to what real romance is -- not the ideas he's made up in his head, but what is really there.

(And I mean, I guess I'll get into it maybe later? I do have headcanons for Colin -- such as his first time with a woman was probably bought and paid for at a brothel. That after this whole Marina thing kind of sours him on love for a while, it pushes him to go out and get some experiences. It allows him to understand the world a bit better - so when he finally does see Penelope, he'll understand it better.)

So he stops the kiss. And Marina, who is savvy as fuck for navigating all of this so quickly, doesn't push him. She's gonna seduce him, but she'll do so on his terms. And appealing to his greater sense of romanticism and honor. Which really works in her favor, ultimately.

Colin can barely believe he's stopping - because he probably is a bit overwhelmed by whatever body reaction is probably happening in that moment. He still considers himself a gentleman who does things in a proper order.

And it's funny, as much as he ends up being a bit of a rule breaker, it's almost not intentionally. He wants to always be doing the right thing. He wants that honor. He wants to be the gentleman. He wants to be seen in good standing by the greater society. So he won't do anything to compromise himself, but more so her. And so he holds back because this is not the proper way. So, yes, I do think some of society's pressure is on display here, too.

Oh, but Marina, girl is so calculated in this scene. She plays on his gentlemanly nature. Plays on his need for honor. And pushes hard on his desire. You almost feel bad for how easily Colin cracks. He is very much a 'my wife' guy. Even here with Marina, that tendency is here on display.

The jump to marriage is bonkers quick. Yes -- it is partially fueled by society's restraints on sexual desires. But it's also a romantic fantasy Colin actually wants. He wants a wife. He wants that life. He's just never found that emotional connection to really fuel him to go for it. But he thinks he has that with Marina. He thinks that she wants that life with him, too. And, of course, now that they've been alone and courting, he thinks it is the proper step to take. So he does.

It's sweetly in earnest. And a bit unsure of a proposal. He doesn't doubt his own feelings, but he doesn't know where Marina stands.

When Marina not only says yes but looks ecstatic about the idea, he just lights up. Romantic achievement fulfilled. That almost kiss did make him unsure of things. But now that marriage is on the table. Now that they can have this nice long engagement and a fancy wedding and this idyllic life of love he's always heard about from his mother, he is so, so excited about it. He thinks he's getting everything he's ever wanted.

And... he thinks he's giving her everything she wants. He talks about her deserving a grand wedding. He is (almost hilariously) breathless when he says it'll be wonderful. (There is really a little ten yo girl living Colin's heart, lol)

Unfortunately, Marina's excitement is not for the same reason as his own. She's thrilled that this whole plan has worked as quickly and as swimmingly as she wanted to. And... she didn't even have to sleep with him to get a proposal. Win-win, really.

Oh, Colin... he feels everything so intensely. It's a shame this is a mix of lust and youthful ignorance fueling romantic fantasies that this proposal comes about. And Marina was hoping for all of that. He promises that he'll give her everything she wants, and he does in this moment. It's a shame that what Colin doesn't realize -- it is just a fantasy, and ultimately, not what he wants.

Oh man, that look Marina gives before she turns around. Diabolical. I don't think of her as a villain. I really don't. I think she's a young woman who is desperate and willing to do what she can to ensure her own safety. But she is playing with his heart, and knows it.

Look how giddy he is, oh Colin... Well, they promise not to say anything -- because seriously, probably not a good thing to announce your engagement at your sister's wedding. But Colin's probably going to be sleeping well tonight.

It's interesting -- thinking about how Penelope is currently a little heartbroken while all of this is going on. But, you know, she's had a long time to have to deal with these problems, with the emotions. She is able to handle a lot of these harder emotions and process them better because they've been going on for so long.

I think when the shit hits the fan with Marina, it's going to hurt so much worse in some ways. It's like the opposite of the she fell first, he fell harder trope. He's never had to experience heartbreak on this level before, and it'll feel devastating. It's no wonder he spends all of season 2 spiraling. Huh.

Anyway, on that happy note, we get to move onto episode 6! Which is my favorite Polin episode for Season 1 :)

[As an aside, this episode ends with Daphne and Simon's first time, which -- has a lot of similarities, beats, and dialogue as the Polin mirror scene. But the atmosphere, tone, and even acting are a lot different. Idk - I find it really fascinating. If anyone else does, let me know, and I can do a side by side analysis of it, cause there are some interesting things to dissect there.]

[scarthefangirl]

Giving to the poor

Hobie brown x G/N!reader

Request: hobie with a ballerina reader who is also a HUGE bookworm-dont ask me where the idea came from because idk either lol- I kinda just wanted to see how that would maybe look?

Warnings: none? Mentions of theft

Story type: Headcannons

A/N: Not my best but please read my other fics!!

Masterlist | REQUESTS OPEN

You and Hobie don't have a ton in common

You are graceful, very sweet, and a little more awkward

Hobie is a little more- bold and rough

But you two couldn't be a better pair

He loves your smooth and sophisticated fighting style, thanks to your ballet

He thinks its hot how you almost make fighting into a dance, and can whoop anyone in heartbeat

You encourage him constantly to take up ballet, insisting that it'll do him good

"Football players do it! It helps balance and control, and you'd look fine in a leotard." You always plead

"I don't need help, I'm doin' just fine love. But I certainly would look good," He always says

In secret he'd probably watch ballet tutorials to see if its for him, to make you happy

He is FLOORED when he finds out how often you have to replace ballet slippers

"Every 6 months? That has to be so expensive!"

Just wait till he hears that you also have pointe shoes that get replaced every few months...

He will start to time out when you buy shoes and buy them for you

He listens to you rant about your terrible dance teacher and fellow ballerinas for as long as you want, nodding in agreement about how horrible they are

He'll do yoga with you (although he's not very bendy) to keep you flexible and let you laugh at how bad he is

As for your reading addiction, Hobie finds it adorable

The way you gasp and yell at your books as you read, your facial expressions that convey the emotion of the chapters, your particularity for how books should be handled, everything

He isn't the biggest reader but if you hype up a book he'll definitely check it out

You guys bond over ones you both like

"I like hunger games. We need more katniss's in the world to stick it to the man!" He says after finishing the series

Dystopian books make him mad and go on lectures about how the real government is just as bad and deteriorating and loves the wah you'll go off with him and agree and listen

Sometimes he loses you around headquarters and looks EVERYWHERE for you

Loses trust in everyone

"Have you seen them? Come on, think would ya? Yes you have, I know you have!"

Only to find you in an empty room either reading or practicing your ballet

Either way, he leans on the door frame and admire you until you notice him

"If you're gonna sneak away darlin' you could at least tell me, I worry." He scolds but smiles and sits next to you.

Hobie LOVES making people uncomfortable

He'll admire you fighting and just yell out how hot you are or how turned on he is, not caring who hears

He'll make out with you in front of anyone, anytime.

On a different note, when you obsessively buy books he wants to stop you but he can't because you look so cute with the way your face lights up at each cover

"I've been wanting this one!" Or, "I have this one but this is a different cover!"

He isn't all for traditional gender roles but he will pay for your stuff, just because he loves you. He lets you pay for him sometimes if you offer

He sometimes sneaks a book out, stealing it just because he hates the way you insist on following rules

"Here, I took this one for ya," he says

"Hobart Brown!" You scold but can't help being happy for the book

"What? I'm stealing from the rich," he gestures to the book store. "And giving to the poor," he ends, gesturing at you.

He gives to 'the poor' a lot

If you ever talk about a book to him that you want, it randomly appears on you bookshelf

~

Sorry for the abrupt ending lmao

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