#GUYS WHICH VERSION HIM AWAKE OR HIM ASLEEP???

[brennacedria]

*does a little dance*

~~~Art for my birthday~~~

Sending refs tonight; there are two ahead of me in line but that's fine cause I'm not in a rush, I'm just psyched to be getting ART FOR MY BIRTHDAY~~~

Yes, it's the Kaela and Lucanis cuddling and reading. I haven't decided yet if I'm going to ask for him to be awake and smiling, or for him to have dozed off listening to Kaela read to him.

(this pose, more or less. I gave the artist this as a guide and leeway on it if needed)

[activemelil-blog]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ dating the JJK boys, men headcanons

note: english is not my first language, so any spelling errors are because of it !! also, all stories mention you being female. slight 18+, seven per character . . .

▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။၊|• 0:10 ── Choso, Megumi, Nanami, Sukuna, Toji, Geto, gojo and yuji <3 (in order.)

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CHOSO, KAMO ─── ͙͘͡★🩸ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝

choso would most likely get embarrassed seeing you half naked, or if he even saw you with a tank top with no bra underneath. he would look away so fast, his cheeks heating up. you would probably just look at him a little confused, and he’d walk; or back away slowly.

while choso loves you for your, he would definitely be a fan of your body too. hes an ass/thighs guy. he would love the feeling of his face being crushed by your thighs if hes eating you out, or when he falls asleep, he rests himself on your thighs, or your ass.

he’s probably inexperienced. this man is half curse, and 150 years old, so when you two get together, he’s a little clueless about having a girlfriend, but somehow he manages to be perfect. not to mention, definitely the first time he leaves a hickey on you, he admires it for a while, and leaves more. it is definitely one of his guiltier pleasures.

his back is.. really sculpted, and well defined, so when you see him sleeping face down, with no shirt your a little surprised. not to mention, its sensitive. so when you trace patterns along his back; he holds his moans in, whimpering lightly instead. his back arches cutely though. he’s definitely embarrassed about that later on when you tease him about it.

if you two go out, you bet this man would have his arm either around your waist, mainly over your shoulder. he’s really touchy, to an endearing extent, and he would definitely squish your thighs if he’s anxious, or if you two are watching a movie, he’ll be gripping your thigh, his hand itching higher up accidentally.

he would definitely stay up when your sick, and would coddle you like a baby if your sick. he would probably be so worried, he would have himself laid in between your thighs, murmuring stories about mahito, and whatever to you to keep you awake.

he would be the absolute best at planning dates, he would have you guys cooking together, and he would lick the access off your face, you guys would match halloween costumes, you guys would have the best dates, because of him.

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KENTO, NANAMI ─── ⋆｡°🕯️✩.˚₊

kento would be be the type of boyfriend, husband and or fiance to spoil you rotten. he would pay for everything when you two go out, he would take you out to the best, most fanciest restaurant, and you’d take photos together for you to save.

he definitely likes praising you. he would definitely use pet names, and his main three are darling, my love and sweetheart. he loves calling you nicknames, especially if its your name, just a shorter version of it.

when he’s driving you two out, oh, this man would have one hand on the wheel, the other firmly holding onto your thigh. he’d make sure to slightly rub your thigh, a little more subtly.

when you two are having sex, (mainly after he comes home from work) he would cover your eyes with his tie, or tie your wrists above your head to watch you be a little helpless. he’s gentle with it, soft, as too not be too rough.

he’s 100% a gentleman. If you two are doing anything you always make sure to ask for your consent, and then move on. he’s gentle to play with you, and or to tease you.

if you two are texting, he would send voice messages that would probably make you squirm, which you also do when he decides to cook, and he’s wearing an apron. he looks nice.

if you fall asleep on the couch before he gets home, he would probably either pick you up to put you onto your shared bed, and or sit beside you, and grab a blanket.

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MEGUMI, FUSHIGURO ─── ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☃️ ﾟ｡⋆

he’s a cutie. he would definitely get shy if you compliment him, even if its a small one, like you like his jacket, his shirt, and or his eyelashes. he gets flustered easily, and its how you two began to date.

even if he ghosts other people, for example one time he left yuji on read for two months, mean while he only takes less than thirty seconds to reply to your messages. your his first priority, always. he always makes sure your okay, and even if your zoned out, he’ll be concerned for you.

when he first notices his crush on you, he immediately rushes to gojo, panicking. since your his friend at first, he gets awkward around you, but then when you confess to him first, and he runs away, leaving you dumbfounded. he tells gojo again, and gojo sets you guys up on a nice date.

often, the silence with megumi is awkward with anyone else. when its you two, its not awkward at all, if anything its comforting. since hes not a big fan of pda, he often just sticks to holding your hand lightly, and if hes feeling nice that day, he’ll put his hand, more so his fingertips lightly on your thigh. he’s too nervous to do more.

when it snows in the winter, you two would have snow dates almost every week, every day. you would make a snowman, and itd be a three way thing, gojo being a third wheel. he would often third wheel you two, for example when you two went into his room, gojo would be peaking time to time to make sure you guys aren’t doing anything inappropriate behind that locked door.

behind that door, you two are listening to music on his AirPods, as his head is in between your legs, scrolling on his phone as you also look. whatever you find funny, he often blankly stares at it, which makes you rethink your life, a little.

one time you gave him a matching necklace, and he shrugged it off, and when he saw your slight pout, he wore it every single day after that. he enjoys doing little things with you, even if its something as simple as studying, and he always manages to end up taking you home while your asleep.

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RYOMEN, SUKUNA ─── જ⁀➴🍒

having.. one of the strongest beings as your boyfriend, is a little weird for sure. he was convinced you were the love of his life, since he’s still convinced you have some alterer motive, because he thinks your not too innocent as you lead on. but, he’s wrong. he finds you endearing in a sense. his favorite thing about you is probably your tits, and the way you speak softly, and look at him like he hasn’t committed genocide.

he wouldn’t be too toxic. maybe on a scale from one to a hundred, probably a sixty eight, though you questioned his loyalty when he forgot your birthday, he blames it on you. he made it up to you by making you pass out later on that night. when he does do that, he does have the niceness to clean you and him up.

if you send him a paragraph about how much you love him, he’d either respond him with, ok and or, i love you too. (with the period, he is dramatic.) and when he finds out you have other peoples numbers, he gets mad, and he gets all pouty, and whiny.

one time, he showed you a cute video on a phone he stole, and it was a nice video, and it jump scared you. you slapped him, and he was pouty after that too. he scoffs it off, and notices how you genuinely look upset, he nudges at you until you give in.

he wouldn’t be afraid to rub up on you in public. especially if you two are shopping together, he would grab your ass in-front of whoever, wherever, and then whisper to you, then you often slap his hand, because he only does that if theres a kid around, to piss you off.

when you ask him if he has two cocks, or four, he furrows his brows, and asks you where you even got that from. you gesture towards the fact that his actual form has four arms. you tug on his pants, making his breath hitch.

he ends up having two. its hard to manage.

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TOJI, FUSHIGURO ─── ⋆｡‧˚ʚ 🍑 ɞ˚‧｡⋆

realistically, i think a lot of people say he wouldn’t be very loyal. my version of toji would probably be, he uses you because your rich, then he genuinely ends up falling in love with you, and when he does, he tries to ghost you, and fails.

when you two first started seeing each other, he often stays over at your place, and sleeps with you on your bed, being the big spoon. but, when he learns that he does actually like you, he starts to remember more important dates, when you two first started dating, a year in, he forgot about it, and when you hint towards it, he ends up taking you out, and makes you pay for it, and he makes it up to you later that night.

GYM DATES!! this man would love to go to the gym with you, and or train at home with you, and he would show off, as you look at him in awe. when he tells you to do squats, and you play along, he stares at your ass. he’s an ass guy; all the way.

when you two do go out in public, like when you wanna take a walk, and when you wanna go to the grocery store, he’s a little iffy about it. he doesn’t really like going out, but for you, he’ll do it.

he loves it when you sit on his lap.

when your parents first meet toji, they think he’s using you for his money, and boy were they right, and wrong at the same time. he quickly gets along with your dad, when they have a few drinks together, complaining about women, ( you, and your mom.) and he explains how much he adores you, and how you changed his life, gaining your parents trust.

on a scale of one to ten, he’s a seven on roughness.

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GOJO, SATORU ─── 🪼⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

mischaracterization for gojo is crazy in fan fiction, no he would not be narcissistic, he would care about you more than he would care about himself, and he would make sure you fall asleep before him, and he would play with your hair, vise versa. this man would tell his students about you, and ramble about you until class is over, and they would definitely be somewhat intrigued, even if megumi already knows about you.

If you two were dating, and or engaged, married, whatever is it you two are, he wouldn’t ever raise his voice at you. if he did, it would probably be more of a whine. he would remember the smallest things about you. he would do anything to cheer you up if he sees you upset, even if it was embarrassing.

TEEN GOJO!! would wake you up at three in the morning to tell you about something he dreamt about, and then he rants for thirty minutes about how its symbolic, and you would probably fall asleep half way through, and he would be whining about how he wants you to wake up.

this man would spend all his money on you. but he definitely would see you glance at something in the store, and then he would buy it later, and you just look at him in awe when he does. he would also call out sick just to spoil you that same day, and his students would for sure know something’s up.

TEEN GOJO!! whenever he gets angry at you, and if he gives you silent treatment, he’ll get all pouty, and hope you’ll ask him whats wrong, same thing if you get distracted by something anywhere, he’ll look at you with slight irritation before poking at you, as he wants you to look at him instead.

if gojos eating you out, hes doing it while holding softly onto your thighs, and occasionally looking up at you with a grin on his face, compared to you, who’s gripping his hair, your eyes fluttering. seriously, he would be sloppy.

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GETO, SUGURU ─── ♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧

in a modern college au, if you two FaceTime from morning to night, he would definitely do your skincare with you, and or follow along with you, as you ramble on about whatever your pissed about at the moment.

TEEN GETO!! when he sees you sleeping, and he sees how you’re slouched over, he would resort to moving next to you, and letting you rest on his shoulder, and when you wake up, your resting on his lap, and he’s playing with your hair, a small smile forming on his face.

if suguru gets sick, he’s more vulnerable, and a lot more clingy. he’ll spill his whole life story to you, and probably will cry in your arms because he’s scared of you leaving him. so when you reassure him you wont leave, he says thank you softly.

when you tell him any sort of drama, he would be listening in, and be on your side, even if your wrong, he’ll always be paying attention to you, and side with you.

in a modern college au, Suguru will probably have little to no social media, and if he does, he only has less than twenty followers, most of them being his friends, and or family. when he does post, its you, and only you.

he’s all for fingering you. he loves using his thumb as his main for edging you. he loves edging you, seeing your facial expressions, or the way you try to close your legs as an instinct, he opens them up with plopping two fingers inside you.

he would definitely remember everything about you, little, and big. he’s all for it, he’s a good listener, so he remembers everything you say; and he’s also a good boyfriend because he’ll buy you flowers, and chocolates for you, even if its not an important date.

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YUJI, ITADORI ─── ✩°｡⋆⸜ 🎧✮

when he texts you to come over, and you say yes, he immediately rushes to clean his room, and when you show up, he grins at the sight of you, he loves everything about you.

he’s the perfect boyfriend; really. he calls you every single day, asking if your okay, asking if you wanna have a date, asking when, where, and it always ends up with you sleeping over at his place, and waking up drowsy from the video-games you two played, and how you two went to bed at almost five in the morning.

whenever you two kiss, its gentle. its not a full tongue on tongue, super make out, since you two are teenagers, you dont do anything crazy. up to the way he tucks your hair behind your ears, and he pulls away flustered, smiling at you, it makes happy.

when he first overheard the fact you dont like people with bad posture, he immediately stands onto fixing his posture, and now whenever you glance at him, he boasts about it to megumi. since you two don’t particularly speak at first, your mainly friends with nobara.

when he first meets your parents, he’s mortified of your dad, and your mom immediately questioned him, but when he assures your parents he wants nothing other than to make you happy. your dad softens up to him, and they get along well, so its even.

yuji is all for pda. he loves holding your hand, he loves flicking your cheek when your looking away from him, and how you yelp, he likes how soft your hands are, when his hands are a little bit more rough. compared to yours. he’s not all for sexual intimacy, mainly because you guys believe too young to.. well, do anything further than kissing.

when your dating him, since he also has sukuna possessing him, he often comes out to boast about how your also his girlfriend, and yuji panics internally, trying to take over, sukuna is probably the opposite, and he often makes.. rather concerning comments, and when yuji comes back out, he apologizes rather quickly, but you dont mind. it adds to his character, (is what you tell yourself.)

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if you did read all of those, kudos to you 😇 this only took me half a day soo hope it was good to whoever read these 🫶 if you want to repost my work,

make sure to give credits ‼️

[lon3rlife]

Dating Rick Sanchez Headcanons

Mostly fluff. I’m going to ramble a lot because I love him sm

He’s extremely overprotective and would do absolutely ANYTHING to keep you safe, even if it means putting his own life on the line.

He comes and goes to your house as he pleases. You’ll come home to see him on your couch or stealing your food. He’ll also portal to your house in the middle of the night and get into bed with you without saying anything.

He’s not huge on pda, he’ll have an arm around you on the couch when you guys watch tv with the family and will hold your hand and give you a reassuring squeeze when you get anxious, but he won’t hesitate to get extremely touchy if someone is looking at you wrong.

In private though he’s a hugeee softie and will never let anyone know. If you’re working on something or cooking something in the kitchen he’ll come behind you and hug you from behind (you usually don’t even know he’s there and he scares the living shit out of you). He loves when you lay on his chest while he plays with your hair until you fall asleep, and in bed he’ll pretty much melt into you holding you tightly.

He loves your hair so much. If you’re brushing it he’ll stand there admiring you, and he just loves tangling his hands through and and playing with it while you guys cuddle.

You guys always get into the dumbest fights like if pancakes are better than waffles or that he needs to do dishes if he comes to your house and eats your food without cleaning up. They leave you frustrated and Rick pouting like a child for a few hours until you guys kiss and make up.

I think this is canon but he’s actually a really good cook. Once a week you guys make it a habit to cook a homemade meal together to get a short break from the stress of everything and spend quality time together.

If you leave for a trip for work or with friends he will be EXTREMELY clingy the days leading up to the trip because you guys spend so much time together he doesn’t know what to do with himself when your gone. (He ends up portaling to your hotel at night because he isn’t able to sleep without you)

Kisses you anywhere. On your lips, your forehead, your neck, chest, arms, you name it.

He’s definitely a bad influence 100%. He will get crazy alien drugs and take them with you, he won’t force them on you but if you don’t want to take them he’ll be like “come on baby you’re missing out don’t be lameee.” He will also take you to parties on different planets just to get completely shitfaced.

Even though he’s a night owl and stays awake most nights, his favorite time of day is the morning. He loves the intimacy of laying with you just talking about anything without any specific plans for the day, the sun hitting your face just right still sleepy and you playing with his fingers is the most special time for him.

PETNAMES 1000%. He will use the most obnoxious ones as well, usually he’ll call you baby, sugar, honey, or a shortened version of your name.

You get along very well with the Smith family, especially Morty which makes Rick sooo happy. Also you help Morty with his homework because Rick sure as hell doesn’t, and Morty looks up to you so much and trusts you enough that he’ll talk to you about anything he needs to get off his chest.

Omfg writing these are sooooooo much fun if anyone wants me to write more I will cause I have so many more but it’s like 1am and I’m tired

[yeonmuse]

— Bloodlust 18+

IN WHICH, Jake envys the fact that Sunghoon gets to have you off all people so he decides to take it upon himself to slip into your room and get a taste of you for himself

( pairing) - vampire!Jake x f!r 1.6kwc + smut. not proofread!! 3rd pov Contains!! Mentions of blood/sexual themes/desperate jake, slight somno [reqs are open] ᝰ.ᐟ 𝓁ibrary 🪷

Req from @strawberrywithchocolatebro : “can you please do a jake version of the vampire sunghoon x reader smut?”

🔖 @jwonistic @bubblytaetae @pkjay @planetmarlowe @dreeki @butterflywonz @lillotus17 @squiishymeow @river-demon-slayer @jiamini @sol3chu @right-person-wrong-time

**Heeseung and Sunghoons parts can be found in my library **

Over two weeks had passed since the day you had arrived and been given the news that your father had lured you there as a pawn. Two days since the events between you and Sunghoon had happened in the library. Sunghoon had continued his regular routine as if nothing happened between the both of them, he had been always out working leaving her lonely most days which sparked yet another argument with him and of course led to him giving her into her mattress out of annoyance. Though he eventually ended up caving, inviting Heeseung and the otters over to keep you company on days where he could not be home.

It was depressing honestly no one had heard from your father since the day you’d arrived and your mother didn’t seem to care at all that her only daughter was now missing. Despite his friends having been coming over more often, she still found herself being chained down by her own thoughts and sadness. Though she had gotten used to being here it still didn’t compete with the depressing fact that her father would just give her up that way. The guys on the other hand loved you, seeing you this upset and distraught, each of them were all getting restless. Neither of them really knew what to do, due to the fact that you had locked yourself in your room and refused to allow anyone near you aside from Sunoo. Which was only because Sunoo was the most gentle and sweet of all of them, of course the others were sweet too but there were times where they’d look at you as if they wanted to completely devour you. The first to tire of it was Jake who found himself creeping into your room while you had been fast asleep.

His palm caressed your cheek and he hovered over you without looking away for a second as he watched your sleepy eyes flutter open.

“Jake..?” you grumble out sleepily, and the way your sweet sultry voice called out his name tempted him even further to continue on where his thoughts were now taking him.

“It’s me darling, I’ve missed you, I’ve been wanting to see you.” You let out a soft hum trying to sit up and wipe the sleep from your eyes but he’s quick to lie up back down and caress your cheek.

“Shh shh continue resting princess, i’ll make sure to take good care of you sweetheart, since Sunghoon isn’t here to do it himself.’’ at his words your eyes fluttered closed as you struggled to keep yourself awake. Jake's lips met your shoulder sending shivers down your spine from the moment they touched your skin. He felt the way your body relaxed and heated up at the contact and immediately grew satisfied with the reaction. As soon as his fangs met your shoulder a soft whimper spilled from your lips and his eyes darkened.

“Jake” once again his name had spilled from your lips so effortlessly this time in a semi plea. Again he hushed you and assured you the pain would only last a few seconds. It wasn't until you felt his fingertip trail down the soft skin on your stomach that your sleepiness slowly trickled away enough for you to realize what was going on. Before you’d known it the pain of his fangs searing into your skin earned soft whimpers from you. You were certainly unaware of the way these sounds had made him feel. His fingers slipped beneath your panties and before you had known it he had already been rubbing circles around your clit earning soft moans from you as your hand rested on his wrist. As much as your mind had told you to stop him, your body showed an obvious reaction. The way your back arched and your nails dug into his arm sent his thoughts into a frenzy. The combination of your moans and your sweet blood against his tongue was enough to drive any vampire or even human mad. He had barely even touched you and you were already giving him the sweetest reactions.

Seconds later he slipped in two fingers, taking the time to stretch your walls and feel you out before he began to thrust them in and out slowly. The way you whine for him to move them faster only causes him to slow them down, he needed to hear you say it again, the way his name fell from your lips sounded so sweet.

“Jake please.’’ you choked out, your words barely audible but it was good enough for him because no matter how you said it the sound of his name from your lips was something he knew he would love to hear from now on. Slipping in yet another finger he watched how your expressions changed as he moved his fingers faster. He tried his best to read your thoughts but it seemed that at the moment nothing was there, just the mere thought of him and all the things that he was now doing to you. Removing his fangs from your neck he chuckles and cleans any leftover blood with the use of his tongue before leaving a string of kisses on your neck.

“Precious girl you’re being such a good girl letting me take from you.’’ he loved the way you squirmed and your body convulsed as he continued to stretch you out and pump his fingers inside of you, and as he stopped to remove his fingers to bring them to his lips he couldn't deny that your begging and pleas for him to continue had been so much sweeter. So this time rather than return his fingers there he slipped your panties from your legs and dropped them to the floor before scooping your legs up and going between your thighs. His eyes gazed up at your sleepy face as he left kisses on your inner thighs before sinking his teeth in once more earning a small yelp from you before your fingers grasped at his hair. He was having too much fun, far more fun than he had expected to have with someone that was only meant to grant him blood when he pleased.

Moments after his lips met your mound and the sounds that spilled from your mouth following his actions made him desperate to hear more. He slipped his tongue through your folds and as your head fell back at the immense pleasure his eyes stayed trained on you. He was well aware that whoever was awake in the moment would hear everything, considering you couldn't seem to contain yourself in your sleepy state but he wanted it to be far worse. He was prepared to do whatever he could to you that would assure that everyone in that house heard every single sound that spilled from your lips. Yes Sunghoon had gotten to you first but he knew you hated him. In this moment he had you moaning and shining for him and no one other than him, you loved every part of this and the way his name spilled from your lips was surely evident.

‘’You look so beautiful like this darling, begging for me to touch you while you’re covered in your own beautiful crimson.’’ he slips his tongue past your entrance all while using a few fingers to massage your clit. He gave you no time to respond before he was attacking the ache between your legs as if he himself was desperate to touch you just as you were for him to touch you. Your fingers tugged at his dark locks as his tongue played with your sensitive clit, it was a feeling you weren't exactly used to but god was it something you now wanted to experience more of. As he sensed your hip movements he forced your thighs against the bed and continued to suck and pleasure with his fingers all while you whined and moaned out for him and him only. He watched as your face contorted at the pleasure and felt as you clenched around his tongue and fingers and he was more than sure you were meeting your release.

“Come on darling you’re so close.’’ he hums against your cunt, his face buried so deep in it you could feel his nose pressing into your clit. He was completely drunk on the taste of you, even as you squirm beneath him and release on his tongue he couldn't help but keep sucking and licking at your clit as if he wanted to completely devour you. His gaze locked onto you, you yourself completely stuck in place seeing the way he stared up at you proudly, his face completely soaked from having eaten you out for his own pleasure rather than yours.

“So sweet.” He placed gentle kisses all over your thighs, gently brushing his thumb over the slow healing fang scars on your thigh. Pushing himself up from the bed he chuckles and makes his way to the bathroom to grab a towel. As he wiped you clean he watched as your eyes once again grew heavy and his name spilled from your lips so soft and sweet compared to the pornographic moans you had just been letting out moments ago.

“Shhh, sweetheart go ahead and sleep.” As fatigue once again took over your body and you fell asleep he slipped a new pair of panties onto your legs before kissing the marks he had left on both your neck and thighs. With a proud smirk he bid you goodnight and left the room to return to his own.

[zepskies]

Until Morning

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female Reader

Summary: A quiet moment between you, Ben, and your newborn daughter.

AN: Welcome back to the BMD verse, lovelies! I know I promised a longer “family dynamics” one-shot after Strong as Blood, but let’s start with this.   

**This can be read as standalone, but you can also find the chronological reading order of this series collection on the Break Me Down Masterlist.

Word Count: 650 Tags/Warnings: Fluff and comfort, new parent feels.

When Ben woke in the dark, your side of the bed was empty.

His eyes quickly adjusted, taking in the digital red numbers of the clock on his nightstand. It was a fucking ridiculous hour of the morning, but he soon realized what woke him up.

He heard the dulcet tones of your voice drifting from down the hall. Letting out a deep breath through his nose, he debated if it was worth getting out of bed.

But he heard his daughter make a sound of distress, followed by your gentle shushing.

Ben peeled back the warm comforter and got up.

He didn’t bother with a shirt and just padded out to the nursery down the hall in his sweatpants. He found you dressed in one of his old shirts and nothing else, a messy bun atop your head.

You were slowly pacing back and forth across the room with the baby cradled in your arms.

“If I didn’t care,” you sang, “more than words can say… If I didn’t care, would I feel this way?”

Ben crossed his arms and leaned against the open doorway. He watched you in silent contemplation; his sleep had once again been interrupted, but this felt right.

And once again, his entire world was in this room.

You glanced over and shot him a tired smile, but you kept singing until the infant fell asleep in your arms.

“Would my every prayer begin and end with just your name?” you continued. “And would I be sure that this is love beyond compare… Would all this be true, if I didn’t care for you?”

Your last notes fell softly on Delilah’s head, where you laid a gentle kiss. In your exhaustion, you didn’t realize that your husband was behind you until you felt his hand on the small of your back.

“She’s knocked out,” he said, keeping his voice low. “You can set her down.”

You glanced at him over your shoulder. You bit your lip, as you had tears brimming, threatening to trickle over and fall.

“I don’t want to,” you said. Emotion was clogged in your throat, in your shining, tired eyes.

Ben’s thumb soothed against your back.

“She’s all right," he said. "She's asleep. You need to do the same.”

You probably hadn't slept a full night since before getting home from the hospital weeks ago.

You sniffed, trying not to succumb to the sheer feeling of overwhelming in your chest. You knew Lila would be fine if you put her back down, but you also couldn’t help the need you felt to hold her close and know that she was safe with you.

More than anything, you didn’t want to mess this up. You didn’t want to miss a moment where she might need you.

With a short sigh, Ben grasped your shoulder and guided you back with him. Not to the bedroom, but to the plush rocking chair in the corner of the nursery.

He sat down first, then guided you into his lap. His arm wrapped around your waist and tucked you in close. His free hand went to brush over Lila’s downy hair, which was already as brown as his. And he cradled her as well, supporting your hold.

You allowed yourself to relax against his warm chest with a sigh. He rocked the chair back and forth until you too fell asleep, along with your daughter.

Ben brushed back your messy hair away from your forehead, where his lips lingered. He ended up dozing off a little, but mostly he stayed awake.

He made sure you and Lila both slept until morning.

AN: 🥹 Do you guys like the name Delilah "Lila" for short? I did a lot of deliberating and that was the name I settled on.

BMD Fun Facts:

Lila is the heroine's name in the OC version of this story on Ao3.

There's a nice little callback to "If I Didn't Care" by the Ink Spots.

And with the title, there's a sort of callback to BMD Part 7 - "Until Midnight." 😆

Keep Reading in the BMD-verse:

Coming up next, here's a heavy dose of dad!Ben for ya with This One's For You:

Summary: Late one night, finding no other recourse, Ben sings to his infant daughter to help her sleep.

▶️ Next Story: This One's For You

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

BMD Tag List (Part 1):

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

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

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

@spnfamily-j2 @im-a-slut-for-fluff @lacilou @venicesem @mimaria420 @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @tearsfortheyouth @agalliasi @chriszgirl92 @kazsrm67

[greensagephase]

Nonviolent Communication - Part 15

Pairings: Miguel O'Hara x SpideyFemReader Summary: You get sick and then get hit with your period at the same time. Word Count: 15k (most reasonable word count this story has had in months 🤣) Warnings: Sickness; menstruation; Miguel just wants to look after you!!; Short A/N: I'm ready to read the comments on this one, you guys better not disappoint Previous Part Masterlist Music Inspo (You can find the official Spotify playlist for the fanfic here) "Corazón de Poeta" - Jeanette "Sparks" - Coldplay, Acoustic Guitar Revival (guitar version)

Enjoy and thank you for reading! ❤️

Part 15

The moment you wake up, you feel it. The worst thing to wake up to.

A sore throat.

You sit up, blinking a few times as you adjust to the lighting. The sound of rain reaches your ears as it hits the penthouse’s windows. Glancing around, Miguel is nowhere in sight, though the pillow he used last night is still on the floor near you.

You swallow saliva, finding it hard to do so. Yep, you’re definitely sick. You sigh and push the blanket off you, only then realizing it’s been covering you.

Memories of last night come to mind. The power went out just as Miguel and you were going to have dinner, which led to lit candles and flashlights, and music from cassettes while lightning and thunder filled the sky. You eventually moved to the living room, where you continued to listen to music. You showed Miguel new ideas for his place and talked before you fell asleep next to him. And did you offer Miguel your pinky finger?

Staring at the rain, you remember you did and not only that, Miguel accepted it as you gaze into his eyes before you drifted off, too tired to bother with a blanket, which means Miguel covered you at some point after you fell asleep.

For a few seconds, you think about how you’ve slept on Miguel’s living room floor twice now. With him, Miguel. You never imagined such thing but the thought brings a soft smile to your face despite the ache in your throat.

You look around again, wondering where Miguel is before you stand up, your body feeling off, fatigued.

You still have it in you to fold the blanket before you realize you need to wash it considering you’re sick now. You sigh quietly in disbelief. For the first time in a few years, you’re sick. Your thoughts are interrupted by Miguel’s footsteps coming down the stairs, which makes you realize it must be sometime after 6am.

“Hey, good morning,” Miguel says, stepping into the living room, hair damp from his morning shower. Traces of Miguel’s hygiene products, scents you’re all too familiar with these days, immediately reach your nose when he approaches you, already in his suit. It doesn’t take long for Miguel to sense that something is off. “Are you alright?” Miguel asks, immediately taking in your appearance now that you’re awake.

You nod but then shake your head. “My throat hurts. It feels sore,” you reply, wincing slightly as even talking seems to make the ache worse.

Miguel’s eyes soften as he hears your voice for the first time today, taking notice of the way you wince and how your voice sounds different.

“Mierda [shit],” Miguel says gently, taking several steps closer to you. “Sore throat. Do you have a fever?” he asks.

You lift your hand to your face, unable to tell right now. Are you warm because you just woke up, or are you warm because you have a fever? You wonder to yourself, hand on your cheek, trying to figure it out when you suddenly feel fingers pressed to your forehead. They feel cool against your skin, though not cold.

You blink, realizing.

“Tienes fiebre [you have a fever],” Miguel says, his tone being one of concern while the back of his fingers are still pressed softly on your forehead. His fingers are bare despite the fact that his suit is already activated, making the contact skin to skin. “Your face is burning.” Miguel lowers his hand at last, not even thinking about what he just did, concern for you being the only thing present in his mind.

“You shouldn’t be this close to me then,” you say, stepping back. “I might get you sick.”

“Nonsense,” Miguel replies. “I won’t get sick, don’t worry.” Miguel steps forward again until he’s the same distance he was just seconds ago. “I’ll have one of the doctors at HQ check you.”

“That’s not… necessary, but thank you. I”ll be okay,” you reply, touched by Miguel’s offer and his concern nonetheless.

Your response instantly makes Miguel frown. What do you mean you’ll be okay with a sore throat and fever?

“You’re sick,” he says gently, despite his frown.

Holding on to the blanket, you look away from Miguel. You know you’re sick, you can feel the ache in your throat and how your body feels off, but a part of you doesn’t want to make a big deal out of this. A part of you simply wants to take some over the counter medicine and go on about the day, pushing through your symptoms. It’s what you did in the past the few times you were sick before joining the Spider Society, and after Peter’s death. You learned to take care of yourself since then and now, you’re no longer used to the concern or attention from someone.

“Do you want to go to your universe, or do you want to go HQ?” Miguel offers. “One of the doctors can check you, give you medicine.”

Your gaze meets Miguel’s at last. He’s staring at you, intently, waiting for a response. You nod at last. “HQ. Let me put my suit and get ready.”

“No suit,” Miguel says. “It’s raining and you’re sick. I’m driving us there, no swinging to HQ today. So just… put some regular clothes on, okay?” he adds softly. “Go ahead and get ready, I’ll let my team know we’re going.”

“Alright… thank you,” you say, agreeing with Miguel. You have a feeling that if you were to decline both of his options, he’d probably bring a doctor here to the penthouse to get you checked.

You get ready and change into regular clothes before you meet Miguel downstairs. He’s now wearing regular clothes, too, his suit disengaged to blend in, though that’s not his priority. His priority is to get you treated by a doctor and make you feel better.

The two of you leave the penthouse and head down to the car garage. He unlocks the vehicle and is quick to open and hold the door for you before he gets in the driver’s side. Despite feeling sick, you’re still somewhat aware of how strange it is to watch Miguel drive. It’s like you’ve unlocked another side of him.

The drive to HQ is a short one with Miguel knowing shortcuts around the city. You’re soon walking into the building under an umbrella that Miguel holds to shield you from the rain, walking near you as if he’s your bodyguard.

You head straight to the infirmary sector where a doctor is already waiting for you. Thankfully, the paperwork is short and soon, you’re in a room ready to get checked.

Miguel watches the process, standing by the door as the doctor does basic procedures such as getting your throat swapped and blood work.

“Lab results should take a few minutes. I’ll be back then,” the doctor says before they step out of the room.

You turn to Miguel as he walks over to you, a soft look on his face. He’s already making plans.

“Don’t,” you tell him softly.

Miguel raises an eyebrow and shakes his head. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me… You’re going home, right?”

You raise an eyebrow.

“You’re not working today, so you’re going home, yes?”

“You don’t want me here?” you ask softly.

Miguel steps closer, placing a hand on the patient’s bed, a few inches from your body, and looks down at you, his gaze gentle. “I’m not telling you what to do, but you need to rest properly on a bed where you’ll be comfortable, cozy. Not here at HQ.”

You nod. “I know, I was just… I don’t know. It’s been a while since I’ve been sick,” you admit, feeling fatigue. You turn away and yawn, covering your mouth.

Miguel watches you, hating that you feel unwell. He has little time to think about what you’ve said, about it being a while since you’ve been sick, but a quick thought comes to mind. Have you been sick before joining the Spider Society? The door to the room opens, interrupting his thoughts. Miguel turns back to look, removing his hand from the patient’s bed and stepping back to give you and the doctor some space.

“Blood work looks good and the throat swap is negative. It seems to be a simple cold, but I’ll give you medicine. Would you like a shot as well?”

You nod. “Yes, please.”

“I’ll take care of that, let me just write down the prescriptions I’m giving you - record keeping,” she explains looking up at you and then at Miguel for a second before turning back to their paperwork. They scribble quickly, thinking it’s not strange to see the owner of the building, the boss, with you. Not anymore.

They recall when he was here a year ago, injured. You stayed by his side the whole time and it had been briefly discussed by the other infirmary staff that you had taken care of Mr. O’Hara at his home. Clearly, the two of you are close friends, or something like that.

Now, Mr. O’Hara is here with you for less serious reasons, a cold, to show up for you like you did for him.

They finish up and excuse themselves.

“While you get the shot, I’ll be stepping out. I need to take care of something,” Miguel tells you, both to give you privacy since the shot will likely go on your upper buttock, and also because he needs to talk to Jess about today, maybe even about tomorrow.

“Alright, everything okay?” you ask him.

“Yes, don’t worry. I just need to talk to Jess about something,” Miguel reassures you.

You give him a nod, not probing for more information just as the doctor returns. Miguel gives you a small smile, that being his cue to exit the room. “I’ll see you in a few minutes, okay?” he says softly.

“I’ll be out shortly,” you reply giving him a small, reassuring smile.

With that, Miguel steps out of the room to give you privacy. He calls Jess through his gizmo, standing outside the infirmary room. A second later, she answers.

“Miguel.”

“Jess,” Miguel says. “Morning. It’s very sudden, but I want to ask if it’s possible for you to take care of things around here today?”

“I can. Is everything alright?” Jess asks, watching as Miguel turns away.

“Y/N is sick. It’s only a cold, according to the doctors here at the infirmary, but she has a fever…”

“It’s always good for someone to be around when dealing with a fever. It may change,” Jess tells him, knowing already that Miguel doesn’t want to leave you alone.

“Yes,” Miguel replies, turning back to face her. “I’m going to look after her, make sure it goes down.”

“Let me know if you guys need anything. I’d be more than happy to help.”

“Thank you, Jess,” Miguel responds. “I’ll keep that in mind. And I’ll tell Y/N about it. Thank you for today.”

“If you need to, take off tomorrow, too. It might just be a cold, but it can take a toll on the body for days.”

Miguel gives her a nod, relieved that Jess is making such offer so he can look after you. He had already planned for that, if he was honest. “Thank you. I appreciate it, Jess. I hope it doesn’t get worse, but we’ll see. I’ll keep you updated if I do take off tomorrow just to give you a heads up.”

“No need. I’ll know. Just look after her, alright? And tell her I hope she feels better soon. I’ll be sending her a message in a bit but either way.”

“I will,” Miguel replies softly. “I’ll tell her. Thank you again. Do let me know if I’m needed for backup.”

“Alright, take care.”

“You, too,” Miguel says before he ends the call. He gazes down the hallway leading to the infirmary lobby, lowering his arm to the side. Thankfully the floor is empty save for the medical staff, you, and him. No serious injury or someone on the verge of death. He sighs deeply as he remembers the few days he spent on this floor, injured, before he was allowed to go home. It feels like a lifetime since then.

He decides to wait a bit more to give the doctor and you time, so he stands there, just looking around. It’s so silent. He wonders if this is what it was for you, spending so many hours next to him with no one around to talk with. He thinks about you, waiting in the lonely lobby while his injuries were treated that rainy night.

You stuck by his side, like glue. You could’ve easily gone home at some point to rest, asked someone else to take a shift, but no. You stayed by his side every day. Miguel has a suspicion you would’ve stuck by him every second if you had it your way. He believes that especially when he remembers you offering to sleep on his bedroom floor to look after him that first night.

Miguel shakes his head now, still in disbelief. He would never allow such thing. He would’ve shared the bed with you before letting your body lay on the ground while he rested on the mattress. Of course, he didn’t make that offer because it was too personal for either of you back then, but now…

Miguel’s thoughts are interrupted when he hears the door open. He turns and finds the doctor wishing you a speedy recovery before she exits.

“I’ve given Miss Y/N medications and the shot, she’ll be feeling better soon but in any case that she doesn’t, bring her back in and we can give her other treatments,” she tells him. “Also, she’ll need to rest.”

“I understand, I’ll make sure she does. Thank you,” Miguel responds with a nod.

“You guys take care.”

Miguel nods again before he knocks on the door, entering when he hears your voice. He finds you halfway across the room, heading for the door already. You’re carrying a prescription bag just given to you by the doctor.

“You okay?” he asks softly, holding the door open for you as you keep walking.

“Yeah, I got the shot. It’s kind of hurting a bit,” you admit, feeling it sting as you walk. “But hopefully that means I’ll feel better shortly. Along with the medicine.”

“I hope so,” Miguel says genuinely as you walk out, falling in step with you. The two of you walk down the hallway, side by side, towards the lobby. “We can go home now. I’ll cook you some breakfast, something warm to ease the ache in your throat. And you’ll need to rest so you can get better, let the medicine do its job - let your body recover.”

“Rest? I don’t think I need to.”

“Doctor’s orders,” Miguel replies gazing at you, a hint of a smile on his face, wondering if you’ll be stubborn about this.

“She told me the same thing,” you say with a sigh as you both enter the lobby and head for the elevators.

“You’re not going to ignore doctor’s orders, right?” he asks.

“I guess not… What are you cooking?” you ask softly.

Miguel smirks softly to himself as he presses the button, the doors opening in seconds. He gestures for you to enter before he steps in.

“Don’t worry about it. You just rest and get better.”

The doors close and the lobby is once again empty, or so it seems. A nurse and the doctor turn to look at each other after listening to the little snippet of conversation, the interaction between the boss and you catching their attention. They turn to the elevator again, not recognizing the man that just walked by. He’s a different man from the one they met many years ago, one that was distant and stoic.

“To love and be loved, is to be changed,” the doctor mutters before turning to look at a medical chart, smiling to themselves.

-♥︎-

Miguel and you leave HQ, and drive home. You said you didn’t need to rest but the entire drive back to the penthouse suggested otherwise to Miguel. He glanced at you a few times while driving, finding your sleepy gaze each time as you stared out the window.

Upon arriving home, he ushers you upstairs to change into more comfortable clothing, which you obey without question before heading back downstairs, feeling tired.

You find Miguel moving around the kitchen. Pans are already on the stove. He’s changed into sweatpants and a dark t-shirt now that you’re both home, ready to look after you for the day, tomorrow, or however long it takes for you to be back to your healthy self.

You sit down on the counter and grab the medicine bag, taking everything out so you can read the directions and side effects, seeing that you’ll need to eat before taking some of them.

“Breakfast will be ready in just a few minutes, okay? Do you want coffee?” Miguel asks softly, walking up to the counter and standing across from you now.

“I can make-”

“Sit tight,” he says firmly but gently. “I’ll make it.”

“It…” you finish but Miguel has already turned around. A few seconds later, he starts on the coffee. He moves quickly around the kitchen, his moves careful yet determined.

Just as he’s placed two cups on the counter, he turns to the stove and checks on the food.

You lean back and close your eyes, feeling drowsy. You wrap your arms around yourself, glad you’re in cozy pajamas and wearing one of your favorite sweatshirts, the one Miguel gifted you for Christmas. You could actually go to sleep now without eating but knowing Miguel, he’ll probably refuse to let you sleep on an empty stomach and besides, you don’t want to decline his kind gesture when he’s already halfway done. So, you sit back and wait, listening to Miguel’s movement with your eyes closed. It brings you comfort and a sense of home, something not unusual to you in Miguel's presence.

“Café [coffee],” Miguel says gently a few minutes later, careful not to startle you.

Upon opening your eyes, you find Miguel in front of you. You glance down and find a mug of fresh coffee on the counter, steam coming from it. You can already imagine how great the coffee will feel against your throat, soothing the ache.

“Do you mind?” he asks, gesturing to the medicine bottles. He picks them up and reads the labels once you gesture that you don’t. He nods to himself, noticing that they’ll likely make you feel drowsy and dizzy on top of the fact that two of them need to be taken with food. He also memorizes how many times a day you’ll need certain medicines and the hours between to make sure you don’t miss them.

As he reads, you reach for the mug and softly blow on it to cool it off before grabbing the spoon and stirring it. You yawn just as Miguel places the medicine back on the counter, pretty much all the directions locked into his head. He’s going to make sure that you’re taking the medicines the way they need to be taken, his priority is for you to feel better soon.

“Let me get you breakfast,” he says turning away and walking to the stove. He fixes your plate first, doing it with affection and hope that you’ll find it suitable despite your sickness. He grabs the appropriate utensil before walking over to you, plate in hand, and gently places it in front of you, his gaze soft. “Please eat, it’ll help you,” Miguel says as he puts the utensil on the side of your plate.

With a sleepy smile, you nod. “I am, thank you, Miguel,” you say softly, your tone tired. You pick up the utensil, eating because he’s asked you to. You try to cool off the food a bit before taking a bite. Of course, your throat hurts even to eat but it doesn’t take away from Miguel’s amazing cooking, and you feel like it even awakens your appetite. “So good, as always,” you comment before taking another bite.

Miguel smiles, watching you eat and enjoy the food despite being sick. His chest flutters at the sight of your sleepy smile, unable to not find it endearing.

“Are you not eating?” you ask softly, an eyebrow raised.

Miguel blinks, distracted. He nods. “Si [yes], yes, of course. I was just… Making sure your breakfast is okay.” He turns away to fix himself a plate before joining your side. He glances at you every few seconds, wanting to make sure that you’re alright and not in need of something, but you eat silently and peacefully, at least as much as you can while being sick.

You both finish eating and continue to drink your coffees. The rain has not let up since yesterday and so, you both hear the soft pit pat on the penthouse’s windows, filling the silence in a very cozy way. A few minutes later, Miguel watches as you place your empty mug down. He downs the last bit of his and stands up, picking up both mugs to take to the sink.

You watch as he retrieves a glass and fills it with water before he approaches you. He places it on the counter gently and then places the medicines in front of you. “For your medicine. Then, rest.”

You thank him for the water and take your medicine, hoping the ache in your throat will disappear soon. “Hopefully I feel better soon.”

“You’ll feel better soon,” Miguel says, reassuringly. “You just need some rest. Why don’t you go to bed?”

You shake your head. “I’m not sleepy,” you say even though your eyes say another story.

Miguel tilts his head to the side. “Really?”

You nod but end up yawning at the same time, causing Miguel to raise an eyebrow. You give him a sheepish look. “Okay, maybe I am…” you glance at the medicine bottles, thinking about laying down and Miguel heading back to HQ. “Be careful, okay?”

Miguel blinks in confusion. “Be careful? Of what?”

“If you go out on missions. Just - be careful, okay? If you need backup, call for backup. Please.”

He shakes his head, brows knitted as he stares directly at you. He waits until you look back at him to respond. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“You’re not…?” you reply, looking up at him, now confused.

“Nowhere. I’m staying here. At the penthouse. With you…”

“Oh.” You look down at the glass with water and take another sip. “I thought…” you trail off, not finishing your sentence. You thought Miguel would head back to HQ after breakfast to work, especially since it’s a work day. You look up at him again, finding a gentle and reassuring look on his face.

“No, I’m staying here… I’m looking after you. I’m not leaving you alone,” Miguel responds softly.

Holding his gaze, you nod, for some reason feeling relieved you won’t be alone, yet you don't want to keep Miguel away from work. “Thank you… Are you sure though? I’ll probably just sleep, so you probably don’t want to waste-” you start, wanting to let Miguel know he doesn’t have to stay at the penthouse all day, that he can go on about his day.

“Por favor [please],” Miguel says, lowering himself on the counter, resting his arms on it to be eye level with you. “Don’t say waste. You’re starting to sound like the old me,” he says gently, internally feeling frustration that you’re thinking like that, as if you don’t matter to him. “The one that didn’t want you to spend an entire day in the infirmary room with me a year ago.”

“That was different, though, you were injured. Seriously injured… Close to death. I’m just sick with a common cold.”

“Thankfully,” Miguel states. “It’s just a common cold and nothing more serious, but that doesn’t make it less important. It doesn’t mean I’m going to leave you all alone here to fend for yourself. I wish to do this, okay?” Miguel pauses and clears his throat quietly. “You’re my best friend.” Miguel's gaze is unwavering, leaving no room for questioning nor arguing with him. He's going to stay home and look after you today, tomorrow, or however long, until you're well. Period. “Déjate cuidar [let yourself be taken care of],” he adds gently.

You hum softly. “I wanted to say that to you a year ago.”

Miguel grins, eyes softening. He knows a year ago your friendship was still unofficial, neither of you had addressed it, so you held on to many of your thoughts, keeping them to yourself with the purpose of not pushing his boundaries. It’s a year later and things are different, at last. Progress has been made and Miguel can say what you are to him without the fear of what it means. He can now say those words you weren’t able to say to him a year ago. “Then, you understand… I ask the same of you now. Let me look after you. Please. It’s what friends do.”

Hearing Miguel’s soft tone and words, not missing the fact that he’s used the same words you said to him a year ago, you nod after several seconds of silence. “I understand,” you say, nodding. You know that feeling too well, of wanting to take care of someone. It was exactly how you felt with him when he was hurt. You just wanted to look after him and make him feel better as best as you could. You wanted him to be back to full health because you hated seeing him hurting and unwell. “Okay,” you add softly, accepting.

“Good,” Miguel replies, happy and relieved you’re not being stubborn about him staying at the penthouse to look after you. “I’ll stay here, if you need anything - anything at all - please let me know, okay?”

“I will, thank you, Miguel.”

“Always,” Miguel says, a hint of a smile on his face.

You give him a smile and nod, really accepting the fact that Miguel is going to look after you today. You understand where he’s coming from but a part of you feels off. It’s not because of Miguel, of course, but rather because it’s been a long time since someone has looked after you when you get sick. You’ve grown used to taking care of yourself ever since Peter died. Now, Miguel wishes to do so, and a part of you is trying to remember what that feels like - trying to accept that it’s something normal for you to experience, to receive, as well. You sigh softly as you feel drowsiness, thinking it’ll take you a moment to get used to receiving this kind of care after so long. You yawn again, covering your mouth. You already felt fatigued after the doctor’s appointment, and now the food and medicines seem to be taking effect, adding to it. “I’ll go upstairs and rest a bit,” you tell Miguel, your voice showing signs of sleepiness.

“You need all the rest you can get,” Miguel says nodding. “I’ll be here, go on and take a nap.”

You finally stand up and give him a nod, thanking him for breakfast before you head upstairs to your room. You quickly find yourself in bed, under the sheets. Snuggling into the pillows and covers, you can definitely feel the medicines kicking in.

Your eyes flutter and you feel yourself slowly falling into a slumber when you hear footsteps - Miguel’s footsteps. You raise your head to see just as he walks in.

“Shh, rest. Duerme [sleep],” he says softly, carrying a blanket.

You lay back down as he comes to a halt next to the bed, your brain trying to process what he’s up to. He gently throws the blanket over you, tucking it in around your feet and legs. The rest, he carefully pulls up your body, just below your shoulders.

“There,” Miguel says quietly, watching your sleepy face, one he’s memorized by now but still beholds with keenness.

You hum softly, half-asleep and half-awake, his scent reaching your drowsy senses. “It smells like you,” you say sleepily, a soft smile grazing your lips, content and comforted by Miguel’s warm and cozy scent.

Miguel grins softly, gazing down at you. He can’t deny that he’s equally surprised and delighted by the fact that you even recognize his scent on the blanket. “Sometimes I sleep with it, so I guess it makes sense it smells like me,” he shares, his fingers still holding on to the edge of the blanket.

“I like it,” you say before you blindly reach for the blanket, your fingers curling around warmness before you tug it towards your face, wanting the scent closer.

Miguel’s brows raise in surprise when he feels your fingers wrap around his, tugging them, and the blanket, closer to you. “You like it?” he repeats gently, something in his chest stirring as he keeps gazing at you, slowly drifting off.

You nod sleepily. “I love it,” you whisper with a soft sigh, still holding on to Miguel’s fingers and the blanket before you let go, unaware that you were even holding them or of what you’ve admitted in your sleepy state.

Miguel exhales softly when you release his fingers, feeling the loss of touch immediately. Your words echo in his mind. You love his scent. A few seconds later, Miguel notices that you’ve surrendered to sleep, the sound of your even breathing reaches his ears in the quietness of your bedroom. “I’m happy you… love it,” he whispers back even though you’re asleep now. He lets go of the blanket, his knuckles brushing under your chin softly, tenderly, before he takes your chin between his thumb and index finger for about four seconds, the gesture so instinctive - so right - Miguel doesn’t realize nor questions it in the moment.

He lets go and steps back, watching for a few minutes as you sleep, listening to your soft breathing. He tells himself it’s time to step out of the bedroom and let you rest, so he does. He leaves your door halfway open and returns downstairs to the kitchen to clean up after breakfast.

Once he’s done, he works from home, checking on a few things that he can do from the penthouse to help the team but unlike previous years, Miguel doesn’t drown himself in work. He doesn’t feel the need nor want to check everything, to ensure that everyone is doing what they’re supposed to.

His focus is you, everything else is secondary.

He checks on you every thirty minutes to make sure you’re okay and resting well. Each time, he checks you to make sure the fever has gone down, pressing the back of his hand to your face, keeping track of how warm your face feels. He also fixes the blanket around you when he notices it’s shifted in your sleep, wanting you to feel the most comfort possible. Miguel watches your face, his eyes searching for any sign of discomfort in your sleep before he exits the bedroom, his steps deliberately gentle to avoid disturbing you each time he’s in the bedroom.

On the two-hour mark, Miguel is pleased when he touches your face once again and finds a normal warmth, no longer burning hot.

“Normal,” he whispers to himself with a relieved smile.

Despite your fever going down, Miguel continues to check on you throughout the day. He cooks lunch and gently wakes you up at midday so you’ll eat and take your medicine again, making sure you hydrate yourself, too.

After lunch with some food and medicine in your system, you decide to stick around in the living room, not wanting to be in bed all day despite Miguel’s gentle comment about you resting more comfortably on a bed rather than the couch.

You fight off sleep as much as you can but you eventually doze off once again after replying to the spider gang chat, who sent you messages stating they hope you feel better soon, even asking if they can send you something.

Upon seeing you fall asleep again, Miguel brings his blanket downstairs and once again, covers you with it before settling on the couch, across from you, to keep watch.

He continues to work from a tablet, spending some time reading about mission updates and replying to questions from spider members, though he still doesn’t spend much time with work related tasks. He reads for a while, too, but even that doesn’t hold his attention. His eyes find their way to you more than he realizes, as if he finds the sight of you much more intriguing than any word in his book.

At some point, Miguel gets up to make dinner while you sleep and as always, he moves around the kitchen with ease. He’s a man that knows his way around such space, the kind that makes cooking look easy as he gathers everything he needs on one counter from the fridge and pantry. He has two goals in mind with the meal he’s cooking for dinner. One, to give you some comfort and make you feel better.

And two, to please you with his food. For months, he’s found happiness seeing that look you always get of pure delight when you take a bite of the food he makes. It used to be twice a month with the weekend dinners at each other’s place but ever since you moved in, temporarily, Miguel has the opportunity to cook more often for the two of you.

He always looks forward to it, wondering what your thoughts will be when he cooks something he hasn’t before. Either way, whether it’s something new or something he’s cooked before, Miguel always cooks with love.

He peels and dices vegetables, each one with precision. He washes the rice and keeps an eye on it to make sure it doesn’t burn once he pours it on a pan before applying some oil. Despite his concentration with the food, Miguel takes a few seconds to check on you, finding you still passed out on the couch, the TV playing quietly in the background.

Some time later, you wake up. You blink the sleep away and sit up slowly, feeling disoriented for a few seconds before you realize you’re in the living room. You breathe in, only to find your nose stuffy, which immediately dampens your mood. You sigh and look for Miguel, finding his usual seat empty. His tablet is on the spot next to his seat along with the TV’s remote, left alone. Glancing around, you hear subtle noise from the kitchen, giving you an idea of where Miguel is. You look down at yourself, finding his blanket over you once again before you tug it close to your face. It’s so soft and you can smell just a bit of his scent on it, unable to truly smell it due to your stuffy nose. Despite thinking about Miguel’s scent, you don’t remember your confession from earlier.

You stand up from the couch and stretch at last. This has to be the most you’ve slept in a while during the day but you feel rested. You follow the scent of food to the kitchen where you find Miguel stirring a spoon in a medium size pot. He’s still in his sweatpants and t-shirt, gizmo on his wrist. He turns suddenly, as if sensing you.

“You’re awake,” he says softly, a smile immediately forming on his face, happy to see you up. “How do you feel?” Miguel asks walking around the counter to meet you, he pats the chair you always sit on, silently gesturing for you to take a seat.

“Better. I can still feel a light ache in my throat but it’s not as bad as it was this morning. It’s doable,” you reply as you move to the chair, Miguel pulling it out for you.

“Is your nose stuffy?” he asks, with a slightly raised eyebrow, making note of how your voice sounds now.

“And my nose is stuffy, yes,” you reply with a sigh.

“Hopefully dinner will help with the discomfort of your throat. It might help a bit with the stuffiness, too. I have something that’ll help for sure, if you’re open to it - after dinner,” Miguel says with a frown on his face, wishing you hadn’t grown sick.

“I’ll accept anything if I can breath properly again,” you state, now sitting.

“I feel that,” he replies leaning on the counter, eye level. His body is pretty close, seemingly not worried about catching a cold from you. He observes your face, his gaze landing on your chin. He suddenly remembers what happened earlier, realizing he brushed his knuckles against your skin, and how he then held your chin for a few seconds. He clears his throat. “Let me check the food, so you can go ahead and eat. I hope you like it,” he says softly, pushing himself off the counter. He flexes his hand, the same one he caressed you with earlier, having the sensation on his skin still.

“What did you cook?” you ask softly, sniffling.

Miguel smiles a bit at the sound of you sniffling before he thinks of something. Instead of walking back to the stove, he walks to the laundry room. “Hold on, just a sec.” You watch as he disappears into the laundry room, before he steps out several seconds later, carrying a small box. He approaches you, reaching you in no time, and offers it to you, which you realize is a tissue box. “For your nose,” Miguel says. “So you don’t hurt your skin with something else, like a napkin, if you need to blow your nose.”

You accept the box with a soft smile and thank him.

“Always,” Miguel says with a little nod and gentle smile. “Now, let me get you some food. I feel certain it’s going to make you feel good. My mom made it for Gabriel and I when we got sick sometimes. It’s caldito de pollo [chicken soup] with vegetables,” he says. “I made some rice, too.”

You lean back on the chair.

“That sounds really good. I think I’m actually hungry.”

“You think?” Miguel asks, amused as he grabs some bowls.

“Okay, I am hungry,” you say, fixing it. You give him a soft smile. “I think I’m still drowsy from the medicine.”

“That’s to be expected. The dosage on one of them is pretty high. If I remember correctly, it’s the same one you have to do double the dosage for bedtime,” Miguel replies as he recalls the instructions. “But maybe you’re also sleepy from hunger. I noticed you didn’t eat much for lunch. You haven’t had much fluids either.” Remembering that, Miguel stirs the pot before he gets you a glass with water. He takes it to you and of course, you catch the message.

Hydrate.

You oblige and drink, making Miguel satisfied. He turns back around and fixes a plate with food for you.

“So Gabriel and you used to eat this sometimes when you were sick?”

“Yes, we always loved eating this. It gave some relief to our sore throats. And well, we both enjoyed it overall, so it was also a comfort food.”

You nod, thinking about a young Miguel and Gabriel, sick and eating caldito de pollo as children. The image painted in your head brings a smile to your face.

Miguel finishes fixing you a plate and his own, so he brings both to the counter, placing yours in front of you with delicacy. He’s quick to get utensils and napkins along with some warm corn tortillas, and refilling your glass with water before he sits next to you.

“Eat,” he says gazing at you. “It’ll help you recover sooner.”

You nod with a small smile before you begin eating, the warmth of the liquid soothing your throat immediately. It’s like easing an itch. You sigh softly in content before you eat more, the flavors hitting you all at once in the most delightful way possible thanks to the rice and vegetables.

“That feels and tastes amazing,” you mumble as you bring another spoonful to your mouth.

Miguel smiles, feeling pleased with himself. You didn’t eat much during lunch but now, he’s hopeful you’ll eat the serving he gave you and that you’ll feel much more nourished.

“Tortilla?” Miguel offers as he grabs one from the tortillero [container used to keep tortillas warm]. “Gabriel and I used to roll it like this before dipping it in the caldo [broth], and then ate it.” Miguel demonstrates as he lays the tortilla flat on his palm, looking smaller than it actually is against his large hand before he rolls it outwardly. The tortilla is now a thin roll. He dips it in his caldo before taking a bite from it, clearly enjoying it.

You grab one yourself, craving it. “I’m very familiar with that,” you say with a little smile as you do the same, dipping it into the warm liquid. “Childhood memories,” you say before taking a bite.

Miguel smiles once more at the sight, watching you eagerly eat. There’s definitely a difference now. You’ve got more of an appetite than you did earlier and your tone sounds less tired.

“Did I miss out on something today? Missions?” you ask, looking at Miguel.

Surprisingly, the man that once used to bury himself in work with data reports on anomalies and missions, the fate of the multiverse, playfully rolls his eyes. “No work talk on a sick day. You worry about resting, and that’s all… but I will say, the spiderlings went on a mission today and their team flow was amazing, well planned out,” Miguel says, a hint of admiration and pride in his voice, like that of a proud mentor, or parent.

You smile. “They’ve grown and learned, so much. Sometimes I forget they’re growing up, but it’s happening.” You look down at your plate. Time is passing, whether you realize it or not. The years have gone by, and maybe it was the loss and grief, but when you lost Peter, it never occurred to you that the years would go by so quickly after his death. You almost feel that a part of you doubted you’d even make it this far without him by your side, but you did.

You have.

Despite the tearful days and nights you spent alone grieving, you made it. You silently hope you’ve made Peter proud, wherever he’s now.

“I forget, too,” Miguel says after a few moments, thinking. “It’s strange. They’re still these kids but much more mature, more experienced in their roles than when I first met them. I’m - proud of them.”

“I am, too,” you reply softly, putting your thoughts on Peter to rest. “Though sometimes…”

Miguel chuckles. “Sometimes they say the craziest things, and it reminds you they’re still kids.”

“Right? They keep us on our toes, for sure,” you say chuckling, feeling a sudden discomfort in your stomach, a cramp. The sudden shot of discomfort reminds you that you’ll be having your period soon.

“Trust me, I know,” Miguel replies, still smiling and talking about the spiderlings.

You both chuckle at that and keep eating, with you deciding to ignore the thought of your period. You ask Miguel what he’s been up to all day and he tells you about it, how he’s worked on some things regarding the society, read, and other miscellaneous things. Of course, he mentions checking up on you, accidentally informing you of how often he did it. You find the fact endearing, that he checked on you every thirty minutes.

Eventually, you both finish eating. You feel better than you have all day, so much that you feel like taking a shower. You offer to help Miguel clean up but of course, he politely declines, telling you to go and rest, and then to go shower once you mention wanting to do that.

After your shower, you come back downstairs, planning to just hang out in the living room. After sleeping for the majority of the day, you don’t feel like being in bed any more. You find Miguel fixing something in his bookcase before he turns, glad to see you again. He takes in your appearance and sees you seem to feel better. You sniffle as you approach the couch, which reminds him about the thing he said he’d give you for your stuffy nose, but before he heads to get it, he notices your little pout when you look at the couch.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, walking over to you, standing just a few inches away.

You look up, surprised he noticed you pouting over the fact that his blanket is gone from where you left it. “I… Nothing,” you say softly, causing Miguel’s head to tilt to the side, thinking. It takes him a few seconds before he realizes. The blanket, which he threw in the wash along with yours from earlier.

“Go ahead and lie down, rest. I’ll be right back,” he says gently, itching to place his hand on your shoulder and give you a soft squeeze to reassure you, to comfort you. Once he sees you lay down, he heads upstairs, a plan in action.

He collects what he needs and heads back downstairs, walking through the living room before you even notice him entering the kitchen and dining area of the penthouse. Silently, you wonder what he’s up to. You try to into the kitchen from the couch, curious. He appears a few seconds later, your face softening at the sight.

There’s Miguel, a 6’9” tall man, walking towards you with a blanket draped over his shoulder and on the other one, what seems to be a sweatshirt. On his hand, there’s a saucer plate with a cup on top, steam rising from it. And in the other, a familiar small blue and green tub. He walks towards you, with purpose, a man on a mission.

He reaches you in no time with his long strides and begins to work, placing the saucer and cup on the coffee table, along with the small container before turning to you.

“Miguel?” you say, gazing up at him from the couch.

“Yes?” he responds as he unfolds the blanket.

You don’t even know what to say as he spreads the blanket over your body. You simply gaze at him with wide eyes and awe as you watch him towering over you while he tucks the blanket around your feet and legs once more, leaving it loose above your knees and pulling it up to your tummy.

The sight stirs something in you, something stronger than endearment and appreciation that grows stronger as Miguel carries on with his pampering.

“Is your nose still stuffy?” he asks and for a moment, you don’t even comprehend his question, still awestruck.

“Ye-yes,” you stutter softly, sniffling once more.

Miguel nods and grabs the small blue and green container from the coffee table before he gets down on his knees, next to you. He’s now more eye level with you, though he still towers over you easily. He opens the tub, a familiar scent hitting his nostrils right away.

“Put some on your chest and rub it in gently,” he instructs softly.

You nod and pick some up from the tub once he holds it out to you. You slip your hand under your top and do as he said, pushing past your undergarment to apply it properly. Once done, Miguel nods.

“Good. It also helps putting some on your back,” he says gently, still holding it out for you.

You nod, knowing that, too. You pick up more and lean forward, reaching behind you and under your top once more. You apply the product as best as possible, it being a bit of a struggle with your undergarment, which Miguel notices.

He looks down at the tub and then back up at you. “Do you need help?” he asks quietly, making you pause.

Shaking your head, you reply. “Thank you but it’s alright, I got it.” You lie. You’re struggling but you’re not about to accept Miguel’s help with something so… Personal. Intimate. Especially when it involves Miguel and physical contact.

For a moment, Miguel wonders if you’re simply uncomfortable with the idea of him, as a man, touching you, a woman. He wonders if he’s pushing boundaries just by merely offering.

You stare at him, noticing the look on his face. He’s questioning his offer. You frown and regret your words instantly, thinking that you might have made Miguel feel rejected.

“It involves physical contact,” you say softly. “I don’t want to push your boundaries, Miguel.”

He glances up at you, listening to your words before he nods. He gives you a reassuring smile, feeling relieved. You’re not rejecting his offer, his gesture, for the reasons he was thinking. You’re as always, looking out to respect him and his boundaries.

“Even when you’re sick, nose stuffy and feeling fatigued, you’re still so considerate… so sweet, you know that?” Miguel says staring right into your eyes, without fear or embarrassment from stating those words. “I don’t mind, at all,” he continues as he looks at the container and collects some of the ointment with his fingers. “If you allow me, I’ll help you.”

You smile and facepalm, chuckling. It’s been so long since someone has looked after you like this. The last person was Peter, of course. You used to look after each other when the other got sick, just like Miguel has done for you today. Still smiling, you nod, accepting his help. You remind yourself to accepting the fact that Miguel is looking after you, that this is normal. That friends look after each other.

“Lean forward for me, please,” Miguel says, giving you a smile back.

You do so and lift your top slightly, just enough to let him slip his hand underneath it. “My - I’m wearing my-” you start, trying to tell him you’re wearing an undergarment to support your chest.

“I know,” Miguel says gently. “I could tell you were struggling because of it. Is it okay if I shift it slightly?” he asks carefully before he even makes a move, being a gentleman as always.

“… Yes, that’s alright,” you reply softly.

Miguel nods. “I’m going to slide my hand under your top now,” he says, letting you know what he’s doing as a way to avoid making you uncomfortable, and aware of his actions. As soon as he slips his hand under your shirt, your warmth radiates off your skin, greeting his own.

You stare right ahead, sensing the warmth from his hand even though he hasn’t even touched you yet. You wait as he moves his hand further up.

“I’m going to apply it now,” Miguel says softly, waiting to see your reaction. Once you nod, he nods back. He presses his fingers to your bare flesh, a second later, he begins to rub the ointment onto your soft skin. His fingers move gently but efficiently, making sure he’s applying the product appropriately so it does what it’s supposed to do.

Your eyes move to your lap as you feel Miguel’s fingers on you. They’re warm, but you’re not surprised. The man always seems to be warm, so it’s not unusual. What’s unusual is his actual touch. From pinky hugs to him touching your forehead and now your back, this is a lot of progress on Miguel’s end. It’s a lot for one day and yet, he’s doing it.

Then, there’s your own progress, you suppose. You haven’t had someone look after you in a long time, haven’t had someone touch your bare skin like this. You try to remember the last time someone, Peter, touched your back when you were sick like this. You find that you can’t remember it. It’s been that long.

Miguel rubs his fingers gently over your skin, unable to ignore how soft your skin feels. “I’m going to move your underwear a side. Is that okay?” he asks again, withdrawing his hand to grab more of the ointment.

“Yes, that’s okay,” you reply softly, returning your attention to the moment.

With permission, Miguel slips his hand once again under your top. He shifts the undergarment aside, gently and respectfully, before pressing his fingers to your skin again. With more space now, he moves his fingers more freely, rubbing in the ointment until he feels it’s been applied properly.

Neither of you truly notice that his fingers have gone still against your skin once he’s done. His fingers remain there, pressed to your soft skin, your warmth marrying his.

It’s seconds later that Miguel realizes, leading him to withdraw his hand in a way that would seem hesitant to anyone watching. He exhales softly and collects more ointment, just a little, not as much as before while you both silently miss the touch and warmth from each other, like the moon misses its stars on a starless night sky.

“And then, for the stuffy nose,” Miguel says, gaining your attention. “Just a little right here.” With you facing him, he reaches with his index finger and gently rubs the ointment on your nose. “It’ll help you breathe a little better,” he whispers, staring at your nose to be precise with the application. “There.” He slowly lowers his hand and meets your gaze. You seem surprise, so Miguel gives you a small and sweet smile. “We need to cover these arms,” he says, pointing at them. “The AC has been turning on, you’ll get cold. Here, you can put this on if you’d like.” Miguel tugs at the cloth still draped over his shoulder. A sweatshirt.

Wordlessly, you accept it. You recognize it as his, Miguel’s. Sometimes he wears it around the penthouse in the evening. You remember him wearing it yesterday, which means it’ll smell like him. You put it on, careful not to rub off the ointment from your nose. The sleeves are a bit long for you but you don’t mind, if anything, that makes it feel even more cozy. You sniffle quietly, noticing how warm and soft it is, and despite the ointment’s fragrance on your nose, you still catch Miguel’s scent on it. You smile as you fix it around your waist before Miguel pulls the blanket higher up your body.

“Thank you,” you say softly, gazing at Miguel who is still on his knees next to you.

He’s still smiling, giving you that sweet and gentle smile, even when he reaches behind him. He offers you the saucer plate with the cup.

“I made you a tea, it’s supposed to help with colds,” he says while you accept it. “Be careful not to burn yourself.”

You take a small drink, the flavor settling well with you and rushing soothingly down your throat and chest.

“Thank you, Miguel. That's really soothing and it tastes great.”

Seeing your smile, Miguel continues to smile back. “Me allegra [I’m happy], I'm glad you like it. Are you comfortable?”

You begin to nod but Miguel gets up. “I should get you a pillow. Hold on.”

“Wait, that's not-” you start but Miguel is already up the stairs. A few seconds later, you hear his approaching footsteps.

“Lean forward, please,” he says gently, so you do. Miguel slides the pillow behind you, fixing it so it'll be positioned just right for your head to rest on. “There.” He steps back and looks at you, trying to think if he’s forgetting something, or if there’s anything else he can do to make you feel better and comfortable.

“I… Thank you, Miguel,” you say, looking up at him, holding your tea. You briefly notice that he didn’t bring a pillow from your bedroom, but one of his own since the pillowcase is grey, just like his bedding set.

Miguel smiles softly at you and nods. “Always,” he says softly. “Let me know if you need anything, okay?”

You nod once more, giving him a smile. “I will, thank you. You’ve done so much… Thank you, truly.”

Miguel crouches, grabbing the ointment container and closing it. “I’m looking out for you, just the way you looked after me,” he says, turning to look at you. “I don’t like seeing you like this, you know. So rest properly, so you’ll be back to your usual self. Please.”

“I will… I am,” you reply, sounding like you’re making him a promise.

“Good, thank you,” he says, as if you’re doing him a great favor by resting and getting better.

“You should rest, too.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you’ve been - looking after me all day. You’re probably tired, too.”

“I’m good,” Miguel reassures you. “Not tired at all. Promise.”

“Alright… will you at least sit down?”

Miguel smirks softly. “That I can do,” he says before he settles on the couch across from you once more. “TV?”

You nod. “Yes, please.”

With a soft smile, Miguel asks what you want to watch before you both decide on something, settling for a movie. You spend the rest of the evening in the living room together, Miguel watching over you like a loyal knight to his queen, both when you’re awake and when you doze off due to the medicines’ effects.

He makes sure you have everything you need and even notices when your face shows signs of discomfort, your hand pressed to your tummy.

“Is your stomach hurting?” Miguel asks, worried that your cold is turning into something else.

Noticing his concern, you ease his worries by telling him the truth. “It’s my period. It’s coming up soon, probably a few days. Or even tomorrow,” you say, trying to remember what day it is. With running into Harry and then your lunch with him, and now sick, you can’t even remember. “It’s cramps. They’re not bad, thankfully.”

Miguel almost scoffs. They’re not “bad” and yet, your face shows clear discomfort. “I can make you another tea - canelita.”

“No, no, it’s alright. I’ll just take some medicine in a bit,” you reassure him before you ask him a question about the movie, distracting him from the topic for the rest of the night, or so you think.

-♥︎-

The next morning you wake up without an alarm. Miguel and you decided last night to take off today again, for your sake, and yet, you’ve waken up just past 7:30 by the need to use the bathroom.

There, you’re met with the lovely (not) news that your period has begun.

“Yay,” you say, grumpily. “Sick and now on my period.”

Fifteen minutes later, you’re back in bed with brushed teeth and different clothes on. You fall asleep again for some time. Only waking up when you hear Miguel’s gentle voice, coaxing you from your sleep.

You blink softly, your gaze finding his warm gaze and sweet face.

“How are you feeling?” he whispers, gazing back at you. He notices you look better today, back to yourself.

“Better,” you reply in a whisper, eyes fluttering for a few seconds to blink the sleep away.

“I’m relieved to hear that,” he says, crouching next to the bed. “How are you feeling… your period?” he asks softly, worried you’re feeling unwell from it. Last night you may have succeeded in changing the topic but not in erasing the worry and thought from Miguel’s mind. It reminded him of the first time he went to your apartment, how unwell you were. You haven’t missed any days at HQ because of your period since then, he knows that. Ever since that time, you’ve added more self-care steps to your period routine but Miguel hasn’t forgotten how unwell you were.

Over the months, he’s silently, and discreetly, made sure you don’t push yourself too much when he guesses you’re on your period. Thankfully, the new things you’ve been doing has helped you a lot, which include drinking canelita ever since he made it for you the first time. Either way, Miguel still tries his best to figure out if you’re pushing yourself too much because he worries about you.

“You don’t have to tell me… I just - you’re okay?” Miguel adds.

“Yes, I- I started today. I’m feeling alright right now. No cramps, or headaches,” you share, feeling comfortable to talk about your period with Miguel.

He seems relieved to hear that. “Good, I’m glad.” He sighs softly. “I bought you medicine either way, if you’re interested.”

You sit up slowly, fixing the covers. His blanket is sprawled over your bed and you’re still wearing the sweatshirt, the one he gave you last night. “You did? When?” you say, shifting slightly and patting the edge of the mattress, offering Miguel a seat.

He stands up and sits, keeping some distance to avoid disrupting how comfortable you look on the bed right now. “After you went to sleep last night, I ordered some. I got it delivered this morning,” he replies. “I figured I could help and offer you another option just in case what you’re taking now is not working. Plus, I remembered that medicine from this universe might be more effective than what you’re taking from your universe.”

“You think so?” you ask, looking hopeful.

Miguel smiles, his gaze softening because of your face. “I think so. Lyla has done some research and comparisons. Medicines are more effective in some universes than others, from prescriptions for colds to menstruation pain, even birth control pills. Apparently this universe is one of them, so this menstruation medicine might be better than yours.” Miguel pulls out a box from his pocket and offers it to you, the package sealed. “So, if you want, try this out. See if it works better. If it does, I can buy it, or if you’d prefer, I can have the infirmary supply it to you, whatever you wish to do. If you’d like to try another prescription in the future, just let me know, too, and we can look for an alternative,” Miguel offers as he watches you look at the box with hope.

“I’m going to give it a try if the need arises, thank you,” you tell him softly, looking up at him with a smile. “If it does, I’ll definitely be asking you or the infirmary to supply it to me. I’ve been trying new ones but they seem to stop being efficient after some time, so I’m hopeful about this one. Thank you so much, Miguel.” You gaze at him happily, feeling hopeful about this medicine. You’ve been using a different kind ever since the day Miguel showed up to your apartment, realizing the former one only seemed to make you drowsy and since then, you’ve been trying out new ones, hoping to find something more stable. You have hope this new medication will help after what Miguel said.

“Always,” Miguel replies, returning the smile. “Just let me know what you want to do, okay? I’ll happily do either. Do you want breakfast yet?”

You place the medication on the nightstand, considering Miguel’s question for a few seconds before realizing your stomach feels empty. It’s as if the moment he brought up food, your body recognizes it’s hungry.

“I myself, do,” Miguel says. “My stomach feels empty. I didn’t eat anything else after the chicken soup.” He pats his stomach, a bit of a frown on his face. “And neither did you,” he adds.

You chuckle. “So does mine, so I could definitely go for breakfast,” you reply. “What are we making?”

“I’m making something I’m certain you’ll like.”

You grin, hearing him emphasize that it’s him that’ll be doing the cooking. “Alright, alright. I’ll just…”

“Sit on the counter and give me cooking advice,” Miguel says, remembering the first time you cooked for him here at the penthouse when he was injured in the spring. He wanted to help you make food but you declined and told him he could offer conversation and advice, but no physical help considering his injuries. Despite you being capable to use your arms and the rest of your body, Miguel refuses to let you do any kind of work. He wants you to keep resting so you’ll fully recover soon.

“I see how it is,” you reply, shaking your head slightly in amusement. “But I can do that… I have no choice.”

Miguel smiles and stands up from the bed. “You’re still recovering, so take it easy. I’ll wait for you downstairs, okay? I’m going to start on the coffee.”

“I’ll meet you downstairs in a bit. I’m going to make the bed.”

He nods with a small smile and heads back downstairs, giving you your time to start your morning routine in peace. He’s relieved to see you feeling so much better this morning, even smiling and playing along with him. You’re almost back to your usual self, the way he likes to see you. If he could, Miguel would take away your sickness for himself. Hell, he’d take the period cramps, too, if it meant you wouldn’t experience pain and discomfort.

As Miguel starts on the coffee and waits for you to come downstairs, he wonders to himself for the first time why you got sick. He wonders if it was the rain, or maybe sleeping on the living room floor, even over the rug. Growing up, he was told that such thing can make someone sick among other things, like walking barefoot, or sleeping with wet hair. He was always warned by his Mexican mother about it but he brushed it off, even when he got sick after doing one of those very things he was warned about.

Miguel sighs softly. Maybe it was sleeping on the ground.

Then, he wonders if it was stress from your encounter with Harry Osborn, a thought that brings a frown to Miguel’s face. The encounter with Osborn left you tense and nervous, and he hated seeing you like that. He doesn’t like how Osborn caused you such stress and is now wanting to be back in your life after years of ghosting you when you needed someone after Peter’s death.

Miguel still doesn’t know what your decision on that is. He hasn’t asked, though he won’t deny he’s curious. At the end of the day, it’ll be your decision.

However, that doesn’t mean that Miguel will let go of the grudge he has for the man. Miguel can’t help it, knowing what Osborn did to you. It does more than upset him.

He clears his mind from Osborn when he hears you approaching the kitchen, deciding to not give a moment of his time to the man when you’re here with him. What matters right now, is you, so he carries on with breakfast.

Miguel gives you a cup of coffee and continues to cooks, filling the penthouse with lovely scents of food. You sit at the counter, drinking coffee and talking with him. At some point music starts playing, surprising both Miguel and you.

“Lyla,” he says, remembering. He hardly saw her yesterday since he stayed home and she was busy helping Jess at HQ.

Both of you wait for her to pop up but she doesn’t.

“I guess she’s busy,” you say softly when she doesn’t show up.

Miguel nods with a grin. “Seems like it. I’m sure she’ll make an appearance later today.”

The two of you continue on and have breakfast, with soft music playing in the background. You take your medicine afterwards, which prompts Miguel to ask you to go and lay down. Even when you offer to help clean the kitchen with him, he declines and gently asks you to rest.

So you do. Feeling better than you did the day before, you think about yesterday and everything Miguel did to help you get better, even pushing his own boundaries regarding physical touch. You softly touch the top of your nose, remembering the way he gently applied the ointment yesterday. That leads you to the fact that he applied some on your back, too. That seems surreal but it did happen.

You smile at the thought, thankful for Miguel, who eventually joins you in the living room where you both watch some TV for a while. He’s truly glad to see you in a better mood today, taking notice that you don’t seem as sleepy as yesterday and that your nose isn’t stuffy either. It seems that you’re recovering quickly, which makes Miguel feel relieved. He still feels some worry about your period, though, but he really hopes that the new medication will at least help lessened your symptoms if you experience any.

He watches you for a few seconds after taking a seat, noticing that you’re still wearing his sweatshirt. With looking after you and making sure you have everything you need, he suddenly remembers yesterday, when you told him in your sleepy state that you “like” and then “love” his scent. The thought brings a warmth to his cheeks.

Did you really mean it? Or, was it just words being said in such sleepy state? He almost wants to ask you now but he stops himself, thinking the topic might embarrass you, and maybe, you really didn’t mean them.

He shakes his head at himself, turning to look at the TV instead. You both watch it for a while and spend the morning together. You manage to stay awake all the way up until after lunch time when you excuse yourself to your room, telling Miguel you’re going to take a nap because the medicines prescribed by the doctor at HQ are making you sleepy.

A few hours later, you wake up to your name being called. Miguel is crouched next to you, watching your face for any signs of discomfort. You’ve been sleeping for a few hours and he’s decided to finally wake you up to ask if you’re feeling unwell due to the cold, your period, or both.

“Are you feeling okay?” he asks quietly, trying not to startle you too much with his voice.

You nod and stretch your legs under the covers. “Mhm, I’m okay,” you reply sleepily, making Miguel smile softly. He ends up sitting on the floor, next to your bed, and leans back on the nightstand, his body covering most of it. He stays quiet for a few minutes, looking at the ceiling in silence, thinking about something while waiting for you to fully wake up. Ever since you’ve been sick, he’s had this on his mind but every time he’s about to really think about it, something interrupts his thoughts. He’s wondered about it before but he’s never asked about it. Part of the reason why he hasn’t asked is because the timing was not right. The other part, the main reason, is that Miguel didn’t want to know the answer.

He still doesn’t because if the answer is yes, Miguel knows that it will hurt him. The time has come though. With you being sick and Harry Osborn trying to come back into your life, Miguel finds that this is the best time to ask. Sensing that you’re fully awake now, Miguel decides to ask what’s been on his mind.

“Did you ever - get sick? Before joining the society?” Miguel asks, still staring at the ceiling. “Between Peter’s death and you joining the society?” he continues, quietly, softly.

On your side, facing him, you stare at the wall thinking about his question.

“Yes. I got a few colds here and there but nothing more serious like the flu, thankfully,” you reply a few seconds later after thinking about it, thinking of the few times it happened. “And then a few times because of my period.”

Miguel nods, gulping softly. He turns to face you, remembering when he went to your apartment the first time ever because you were unwell due to your menstruation. You were all alone in pain and discomfort. That was one time alone - one month in many years of solitude. He silently wonders for how many of them did you experience a similar situation? How many times did you lay alone on your bed in an empty apartment while the rest of the world went on about its day?

How many times did you lay half-unconscious, half-awake squirming in pain and clutching your stomach?

It kills Miguel to think about it.

“Hey,” you whisper softly, catching his attention. For several seconds, his eyes have a distant and pained look in them. “What’s wrong?”

“I”m sorry,” he whispers back, blinking and coming back to the present - to you.

“For what?”

Miguel sighs and looks away, leaning his head back. Eyes closed, he wonders if he should tell you.

“Miguel?” you whisper. “What is it? You look upset.”

Miguel’s head snaps back to face you, eyes open. “Not with you.” He shakes his head, making it clear he’s not upset because of you or at you. “Never with you, I’m sorry. I just - you being sick - I’ve thought about it before and now that I’m here to see it, it’s brought back thoughts - questions,” Miguel says in a whisper, eyes meeting yours.

“Questions… About what?” You prop yourself up with one arm, wondering what’s going on inside Miguel’s mind. Whatever it is, is bothering him deeply. You wonder if it has to do with his question about you being sick in the past while alone.

“It hurts me,” Miguel admits softly.

“What hurts?” you ask, brows knitted, concerned.

“To think about you, alone for so long all those years. Especially when I think about you feeling sick, with no one to care for you - to make sure you ate, someone to ease your discomfort. To think that you were on your own,” he whispers.

You inhale deeply, your heart’s strings pulled by how bothered Miguel is by this. It feels as if Miguel really is in pain.

“Don’t think about that, Miguel,” you tell him softly. “It’s in the past now. Those days are over.”

“But you shouldn’t have been alone. Someone should’ve been there with you.”

“It was my fault. I pushed everyone away after Peter died.”

“No,” Miguel says, shaking his head. His tone is somewhat stern. “None of your friends should’ve ever accepted you parting from them. They should’ve kept reaching out. Kept showing up to look for you - to make sure you were okay. You had just lost Peter - you shouldn’t have been alone,” Miguel insists, his voice gentle. “Harry… He should’ve been there for you, especially.”

Surprise rushes to you. You weren’t expecting Miguel to talk about this, for this to be what’s been bothering him so deeply, as if it pains him in a physical way. “I was going to cut ties with him, too,” you reply, trying to lessen his hurt by stating a truth. “I was planning on it.”

“Planning,” Miguel states. “But you didn’t. Maybe you would’ve gone through with it but you didn’t actually do it because he disappeared before you could. He just - left you,” he says softly, shaking his head in disbelief. Ever since he learned about Harry Osborn and the fact that he abandoned you right after Peter’s funeral, it’s been impossible for Miguel to not hold a grudge against him but now, knowing that there were times when you were sick and alone, it only makes that grudge grow. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m sorry you were alone all those years, with no one to look after you.”

“You have no reason to apologize. You didn’t do anything,” you reply gently, wishing that you could lay a hand on his shoulder to comfort him.

“No one deserves to be alone,” Miguel says.

You slowly sit up when he says that. “No, no one does. Including you,” you say softly, remembering the time Miguel told you he used to think he was meant to be alone, to live a lonely life.

Miguel’s gaze softens. He nods. “Including me.”

Smiling, you pull the covers higher as Miguel watches you. He returns the smile, feeling some calmness despite his negative emotions about this topic.

“I’m sorry if I’m… Overstepping.”

“You’re not,” you respond, gently.

He gives you a nod. “I just - I hate thinking about it. I wish…” Miguel trails off. “I wish you hadn’t been alone for so many years. If I,” Miguel pauses. “If I was there… I would’ve never left you alone. I would’ve gone to your place, every day, and knocked on your door until you opened up.”

You smile softly, your eyes slowly filling up with tears because of Miguel’s words. You blink them away, trying not to cry in front of him. With a sigh, you nod.

“I have no doubt you would’ve,” you tell him, believing this in your heart.

Miguel smiles, his own eyes glistening while thinking about the past. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” he says, sincerely.

You shake your head, sniffling a bit. “Don’t be, Miguel. In the past, I’ve wished I had been here sooner, that I could’ve been here for you when you needed someone, too. Even if you pushed me away, I would’ve kept trying, the same way I did when I first started organizing the lab for you. Knowing what I know now about your life, I’ve wished for that many times. Too many,” you admit. “But you know what? I’m just thankful we’re in each other’s lives now. I wish it had been sooner but the fact that we’re even here now, that makes feel so grateful.”

You sniffle softly, thinking about your past.

“Those years I spent on my own… They’re in the past. Behind me. And although there were many lonely days and nights - days that I can’t even remember anymore because they all blended into one - it makes me appreciate the now so much more. I’m thankful for our friends, the spider gang. This,” you say gesturing to Miguel and yourself. “I’m so - so thankful for it. For all of it. For you,” you answer softly, smiling sweetly at Miguel despite your eyes threatening to spill your tears.

Miguel smiles again and leans forward. He reaches with his hand, placing it on top of the bed. He offers his pinky finger, which you notice immediately. You smile warmly at the offer and take it, wrapping your own pinky around his. Gently, you give it a squeeze, one Miguel returns.

His feelings of hurt regarding this conversation have calmed more. A part of him will always wish he had met you earlier, that he had found you sooner so you could’ve been in his life earlier, but your words and smile - your sweetness - replaces his hurt with pure ternura [endearment], so much the next words simply spilled from his mouth like stardust.

“I’m grateful for you, too, dulzura [sweetness],” Miguel whispers, still smiling. “I have been, for a long time now.”

You stare at each other, smiling, your chests stirring with affection, appreciation, and love. For several minutes, you simply enjoy the moment of such vulnerability with Miguel, calming each other.

You think about the little nickname Miguel gave you. Despite all the feelings you’re experiencing right now, that doesn’t mean you missed that part. You chuckle, still holding his pinky finger.

“Does this mean I can call you ‘Miggle?’” you ask.

Miguel rolls his eyes, playfully, of course. “Only when we’re alone. The spider gang would have a field day with that nickname. Peter B. especially,” he says gently.

You snort softly. “Fair enough.”

Miguel stares at your joined pinky fingers. “You may call me something else.”

Humming softly, you give Miguel’s pinky finger a hug with your own, smiling. “I’m going to think about it, then.”

“I look forward to hearing your ideas,” Miguel replies, amused.

You stare at the wall, beginning to think of a nickname you’d like to give Miguel.

Mig.

Migs.

Miggy.

Fangs.

You feel a cramp in your stomach, interrupting your thoughts. With your free hand, you press your stomach slightly, something that catches Miguel’s attention.

“Does your tummy hurt?” he asks, worried.

“Just a cramp,” you reply. “I’m going to take some of the medicine you gave me.”

He nods. “I can get you a heating pad. I have one.”

“I have… the socks with rice.”

Miguel’s brows raise in surprise. “The ones I made you?” he asks. “From back then?”

You nod, looking away, embarrassed. “Uh, yes, they’re quite efficient, so I… Kept them. They’re in the dresser,” you say nodding at them.

He turns to look, still surprised, only to find them laying next to a clean stack of clothes. He didn’t notice them before until now. He nods after a few seconds, gently squeezing your pinky finger. He doesn’t want to let go, even if he doesn’t voice that, but he also wants to look after you.

“How about I make dinner and then you take the medication? I’ll heat up the rice socks for you, if that’s what you want to use.”

You nod after a few seconds. “I like that plan, but I can help-”

“By resting,” Miguel finishes, somehow standing up without letting go of your pinky finger. “I got it. You rest, alright?”

“Alright,” you say with a sigh, still not used to someone looking after you like this after so long.

“Good. I’ll cook and you can rest. I’ll tell you when dinner is ready.” Miguel stares at your joined fingers once again. He frowns for a second before squeezing your finger one last time for today.

You understand, so you squeeze back before letting go. “I’m going to take a shower while you cook. A hot shower always helps me.”

He nods, smiling softly. “If that helps, then go ahead and take your time. We have unlimited hot water.”

“Trust me, I know,” you say standing up at last from the bed. “I’ve become quite spoiled with the shower here, I feel like I forgot what my shower even looks like.”

Miguel chuckles despite the fact that he remembers that soon you’ll be returning to your universe. Your building will be livable once again and you’ll be gone. He fights the urge to tell you that you can come use the shower whenever you wish to. That you can use all the hot water.

That you can stay here longer, even if your building is ready.

But Miguel doesn’t.

“It hasn’t been that long, has it?” he asks, personally feeling that it hasn’t. Weeks have gone by, but for Miguel, it feels like you moved in just yesterday. “You just got here.”

You laugh softly as you grab something you’ll need for your shower. “It feels like that sometimes, doesn’t it?”

Miguel nods. Always. “Yes, sometimes,” he replies instead, looking away from you and around the bedroom. It looks so homey, so cozy. So you. He wishes the bedroom would look like this for longer. He sighs quietly, shaking his head as you gather what you need. He needs to let it go. He clears his throat. “I’ll be downstairs in the kitchen, alright? Take your time with the shower, no rush.”

You nod with a smile. “Alright. I’ll be downstairs shortly.”

Miguel gives you a little nod and smile, wondering what you’d think about his thoughts. If only he voiced them. He finally steps out of the bedroom and leaves you to get ready for your shower, pushing his thoughts aside and focusing on cooking dinner and making you feel better, even though his mind is whirling with thoughts about you moving back to your universe, about your expressed gratitude for him, his nickname for you, which slipped from his mouth without a thought, and of your joined pinkies.

Two hours later, you lay on the couch. You’re in clean pajamas, wrapped up in Miguel’s blanket. You’re still wearing his sweatshirt, something that pleases Miguel for some reason. The socks with rice are under your clothes, pressed to your tummy. As soon as you came downstairs after your shower, he heated them up for you since he remembered to get them while you were showering.

You also took your medication for your cold and the new medicine Miguel got you for your period, which seems to have helped with the cramping.

And of course, Miguel made canelita for you. Your empty cup is now on the coffee table thanks to Miguel, who noticed you falling asleep still holding on to it.

As you sleep, Miguel sits across from you. The TV is on since you both decided to watch the telenovela again but you fell asleep halfway through it, which is no surprise to him due to the medication, and the fact that you got hit with a cold and your period at once. Definitely too much in a few days.

Miguel sighs softly. At least you’re feeling better. The worse of the cold is over now, at least it seems so, and you have new medicine for your period, so hopefully it’ll be better this month.

“She’s sleeping?”

Miguel blinks in surprise, finding Lyla over you. “Yes,” he says softly.

Lyla nods, watching you. “She always looks very peaceful in her sleep.”

Miguel raises an eyebrow but nods. “She does.”

“What about you?”

“What about me?” Miguel replies.

“I’m surprised you’re awake.”

“Why?”

Lyla snorts and disappears for a second before appearing over the coffee table. “You fall asleep on the couch sometimes, especially recently.”

“Okay, and?”

“I’m just saying.”

Miguel rolls his eyes, not annoyed but just wondering why Lyla is even bringing that up. “How are things at HQ?” he asks.

“Good. Everything is running just fine. Don’t worry.” Lyla stares off to the side, arms crossed over her chest now. “I learned about a theory the other day.”

“What’s the theory?” he asks.

“Humans sleep better when people they love are around. Sometimes even small things that remind the human of their loved ones help, like the sight of their jewelry, or the smell of their perfume…”

Miguel hums. “That’s interesting. What piqued your interest in that?”

Lyla shrugs. “Nothing, just came across the article. Interesting stuff,” she says looking at Miguel and then at your sleeping form. “Well, I’m glad to see she’s doing well.”

“She is. She was better today. I’m sure the worst is over now,” Miguel says, his tone one of relief.

“I’m glad,” she says, turning to face Miguel again. “Well… I’m going back to HQ. I have some stuff to do.”

Miguel turns to her, nodding. “Okay, that’s alright. Thank you.”

Lyla smiles and nods. “You got it, boss. Take care of Y/N.”

“I will,” he says before Lyla gives him a peace sign and disappears.

He turns to look at you, finding your sleeping face. You truly do look so peaceful when you sleep.

“Always.”

A/N: MIGUEL GAVE US A NICKNAME!!!!! Sorry for screaming but - it was necessary!! You guys... Miguel... 🥺😭 HE WAS SO SWEET AND TENDER AND JSJIDJ why is he not real??? I want to marry him. AND WHEN HE TOUCHED OUR CHIN ??? AND APPLIED VAPORUB ON OUR BACKS AND NOSE????!!!! (Not me screaming about my own fic) Miguel really said f them physical contact boundaries today 😌 for real!!

I really hope you guys enjoyed this update!! Thank you for the support as always, guys 🥺 it really does mean a lot to me!! THANK YOU!!!!

-Alondra ❤️

Also, this was Miguel fr but with a smile and tenderness because it's reader obviously:

taglist: (text block limit sucks) @loverlorn @saturnknows @d1lf-loverrr @eddiestitmiguelsbigdick @freehentai @arithestrawberry @scaleniusrm @haradasaya @spidermanismyfav @bitchykittenconnoisseur @thecraziestcrayon @obi-mom-kenobi @natsury-kazuki @coraline750 @edgycatx @safixiovi @sunnyx07 @nxrdamp

@rorel1a @oceanstar19 @happishark @carmilla01 @somebodyelsethanyouthink @adora-but-ginger @angie2274 @vampi-amora @tired-writer04 @plzfeedmebread @shadow-pancake9 @tynakub @faretheeoscar @giulscomix @luvstuffies @coffeeauthorvibing @lauraolar14 @bl0osclues @pinkiemme @lil-cinn @mashiromochi @loveletterfrommwah @muzansucker @theleftkittycollection @kikookii @www-interludeshadow-com @holographicang3l @aisyakirmann @bucky-to-my-barnes @geraskier-thots @l3laze @yujyujj @taylorsmakingfuckingmacandcheese @damhanallagorm @heyohalie @kaliuea @moonsua1 @darksidescorner @geminis93 @1800-get-alife @hrrtkreuz @oharasfilipinawife @dropyoursocksandgrabyourcrocss @may4ri @t4naiis @f1-hoff @llumetrii

[naomiarai]

Conscious – cbg.

Synopsis : Your best friend's idea for trying to help you stay awake for your finals might be a bit twisted right?

Pairing : beomgyu × afab!reader [non idol au]

Wc : 1.6k

Warnings : dom! gyu, sub!reader, praise, pet names (princess, angel, pretty girl), fingering, unprotected sex, creampie.

Disclaimer : the lovely anon who sent an drabble on this. it got deleted, but I decided to write a fic on it. [I wrote this in one sitting while I was drunk so..]

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Finals week was up tight for you. You swore you'd fail if you don't stay up all night studying. Hell that's not seeming to work

Luckily, you had someone to pent up with your version of opposite-insomnia. Beomgyu is annoying, but you still want him around. He's probably the only one keeping you sane when you keep falling asleep instead of racing your eyes on words.

You've managed the ones you couldn't avoid and here you are with the last one. Beomgyu seems careless today. He's sprawled up over your living room couch, his legs crossing over yours. Laptop situated on your lap, your eyes kept closing, only something that touched you lightly jolted you awake.

You scream out in frustration, muttering numerous curse words to yourself. Beomgyu jolts up, wide-eyed. A frown forming on his face.

“Your opera made me lose my game!” he says with an annoying tone. “Gyu, that's the least of my worries right now, I keep fucking falling asleep.” you reply back, clenching your teeth. “Don't disrespect your elders now” he says with a grin on his face. Beomgyu was a year older than you, but that doesn't give him a pass to act so entitled to his age when you act up.

“Nothing's working. I stopped taking melatonin, and all tube lights are turned on” you admit in a low voice. “ I don't get how you fall asleep that easy now. You had insomnia level 100 when you were little” he says in a wondering tone. You groan at him, wishing it were the complete opposite now.

"You know, I heard endorphins can keep you awake” he blurts out randomly. You turn your head towards him, with a small frown on your face. "Endorphins?” you ask. “Yeah, they keep some people awake”. Why did he sound so suspicious? “They're found in chocolate, laughing, listening to music...sex..”

You choked on air as you heard his last word. Sex? Now that's a fact. You haven't had sex in quite some time now...

Beomgyu looks at your bewildered face and scoffs. “What? It's true” he says. He thinks for a split second before he asks “Speaking of sex, when was your last time?” How did he sound so casual? "W-..why are you even asking?, i had two boyfriends in the past soo..” you randomly cut of, going into thought.

“Right, the first guy, who was it? Ah- Jaehoon! An asshole if you ask me” he sounded annoyed saying it even though it didn't look like it. You could tell. But why? “second..was Sunghyun? I didn't like him either” he says as he puts his fingers underneath his chin.

“Why the fuck are you going over my history of boyfriends? ” you ask. Also, he sounded weird talking about Sunghyun as well. He replies after a pause, “Which one actually made you cum?” you froze at his words. Does he actually know what he's saying? “Beomgyu!” you scream, “Why would you even ask?!”

“Oh, so none of them did?” he asks curiously. “Nevermind, ________ just tell me”. You think on his words, the only thing you never told Beomgyu was about your sex life. It's not like he asked anyway. "I-..I've had sex like twice...?” you mumble. He looked puzzled, “Don't tell you've only that two times of sex in only one relationship that lasted like, two and half years..? He got his answer, just because you didn't say anything.

He scoffs out laughing, “Did you cum at least?” he asks with a sigh. You pause for sometime.. was it really that embarrassing? “N-no”. You get back to your senses, getting angrier by the second. “But what does that have to do with me falling asleep?” you retort. “Absolutely nothing!”.

He has that shit-eating grin on his face. God, you just want to wipe it off with a kiss. Wait. What were you thinking? No.

“I'm just saying you know, it works like this, you overwork and start falling asleep too easy then I tell you that sex produces endorphins and they help you stay awake, anddd, he adds, dragging the d sound, you haven't had proper sex”

You roll your eyes at his explanation like it didn't mean anything. It doesn't. ”You're acting like I could go get dick just because I keep falling asleep” you reply back. “It's not like I have a boyfriend now, Gyu” you add on.

“But I'm right here”. He says ever so slowly. You're taken aback, frozen still in your place. “What the fuck are you even saying?” you say, almost whispering. His face and tone remain nonchalant, contradictory to yours. “You say you have no boyfriends, right?, and I'm probably the only guy you talk to”

Should you say yes? It's once and he'll probably never ask again. And he's kind of cute. You'd date him. But you would never tell him this. No, but you did get braver at the moment.

“Is this your excuse at asking if you could fuck me?” you ask calming yourself down with a laugh laced in your voice. He seems to take your presence in for a moment. “Did it work?” he asks with a sly smirk.

“If you want it to” you say quickly before you could do anymore pausing. His grin grows bigger; he slides the laptop off your lap and places it on the transparent coffee table with a soft thud. Connecting his lips with yours, you moan into the kiss at the sudden feeling. His arms wrap around your waist as you sit straight up. “Strawberry?” he asks tasting your chapstick. You simply nod, cupping his cheeks to resume the kiss. “Woah, looks who's actually eager here” he laughs.

He picks you up without breaking the kiss, having your legs on his both his sides. You break the kiss saying, “Not on the bed, I don't have new sheets ready” He chuckles at your prediction. “Who said it had to be on the bed?” He sits back down, with you still straddling his lap. His hands slip underneath your shirt, cold hands caressing your warm body. “I didn't expect you to agree so easily” he asks continuing to kiss your neck. “W-...well you did something about those endorphins...” you whisper. He laughs at you, quite obvious he hadn't bought it.

You sit up straight on his lap for a second, thinking. “But won't we make a mess on the couch?” you ask expendentaly. “If you let me go inside..?” he asks with a smirk. You slap his chest multiple times, his idea has some structural value to not making a mess but won't it.... leak out? God, no you should never think dirty. At least you won't have to change the bed sheets.

He claims your lips again in passionate kiss, hands going down to remove your sweatpants. Your left in a crop top and panties. What a sight. He breaks the kiss to lay you down on the couch. “I'll make you cum, astonishing you never have after you had sex twice” he says dramatically. You roll your eyes at him, to which he scoffed at in a high pitched voice. “Just wait, I'll make you roll your eyes for a valid reason” he says before undoing his belt and discarding his jeans and boxers.

You tried to look away. He had a pretty dick. But will it even fit? “Don't look away at the man who's going to fuck you now” he says playfully, hovering above you. You stare at him for a couple seconds, taking in his features. He moves your panties to the side, taking a look at your glistening pussy. “Need to prep you, angel” he says. Taking his fingers closer, he slips in a finger, extremely tight unsurprisingly. “You groan at the sudden feeling, he adds another finger stretching your walls out, you feel pleasure slowly forming from the slight pain. He continue s to stretch you out, with you letting out loud moans form time to time. He retrieves his fingers back just when you're legs shook. You look at him confused.

“I'm only having you cum on my cock” he says before slipping his hands underneath your shirt and removing your bra. He starts to play with your hardened nipples with slick covered fingers, to which you would scold him for, but it felt too good.

He pulls his hands back, spreading your legs open and removing your panties whole. “Ready princess?” he asks softly to which you nod slowly. He enters you with ease,, still going slowly. You feel so so full. He groans out loud, he mutters a 'so tight' before slowly thrusting in and out. “Mmnh–ngh fuck–” you moan out, the pads of his fingers rubbing your clit, making your roll your eyes back. His pace gets faster, so as his grunts and your moans. “Shit–pretty–you feel s-so good” he grunts. The sound of skin slapping against skin takes over your senses, raw pleasure filling you. “Don't stop! nngh– so s-so good!”

The wet and lewd sounds of his dick going in and out get louder, as he slowed down, dick starting to twitch slightly inside of you. You felt a firework inside your stomach, like a coil so desperate to burst. You think you're about to cum. “G-gyu, think I'm gonna cum fuck—!” you moan. “Yeah? cum for me princess, g-good girl aren't you? cream all over my cock-!” You feel his cockhead slowly hitbyour cervix with each slow thrust as you feel the coil in your stomach collapse, coming all over his cock.

He came after you, filling you up, and it leaked out onto the couch. “That was great” he blurts out tired. You slowly recover form your orgasm, getting back to your senses. “Is this going to be a one time thing or—” You're cut off with a kiss, him saying “Absolutely not. I'm keeping you angel” you simply smile at him.

“But gyu didn't you tell sex kind of helps you stay awake, I really don't think that's for me..?” He takes in your words, “It is for some people...” he says before his eyes light up with a grin plastered on hif face. “So round two?”

[random-ikea-drawer]

ok so i love les miserables

AND I JUST GOT TO SEE IT FOR THE FIRST TIME IN THE NORTH AMERICA TOUR (more specifically Montreal! (yes i flew to an entirely different country to see it)) and i am incredibly attached to enjolras and grantaire so here are just things i saw that made my nails dig into my thighs <3 (not just enjoltaire)

oh my dear months old source of no big sad

this is 90% incoherent rambling (SPOILERS)

- Grantaire had long hair and a long coat i think that deserves its own point

- During Red and Black, Grantaire did the old “Don Juan” with the bottle right in Enjolras’ face (he was not impressed)

- In this same song, Enjolras got really close to R’s face during “don’t let the wine go to your brain”

- Again, in Red and Black, when they tossed Grantaire’s bottle to Enj, teasing him, Grantaire grabbed the bottle in a… way… when he was giving it back to him

- Same song 😭 Grantaire was bouncing on a guy’s lap during the first few verses

- In DYHTPS, Grantaire pulled Gavroche aside away from the students crowding Enjolras (this broke my heart, he clearly loves him and doesn’t want him to be in a war)

- “Glad to do a friend a favor” with a very suggestive hand gesture

- In the “dogs will bark flees will bite”, Grantaire pointed a finger at Enjolras, the former getting real close putting his weapon between them. They got REALLY close

- Gavroche pulled the middle finger at Javert lmao

-Eponine fucking died (i knew that already, seen every bootleg and version available, still hit hard)

- During Eponine’s death Gavroche ran onto the stage, closely followed by Grantaire being held onto by Enjolras

- Gavroche tried approaching Eponine (that’s his sister bro :()) but was stopped and held onto by Grantaire. When she died however, Grantaire quickly bent to hug Gavroche, man the grief was so clear with them both.

- After she died, everyone cleared to their positions but Enjolras and Grantaire, seemingly for Enjolras to try and comfort him, but decided against it quickly and pushed past him. Grantaire placed his hand on his chest in mock offense 😭

- When the attack was about to start, Grantaire mocked and toyed with tied up Javert. When Enjolras called for hold, Grantaire threw his arms around Javert with a “yep!” and cue the battle starting immediately when that happened

- During Grantaire’s verse during Drink With Me, it’s back to Enjolras and Grantaire being center stage. Enjolras approached him, held onto his arm and with the same hand moved up to brush R’s hair, which lead to him breaking off the contact and rushing to the other corner of the stage.

-He was followed by Gavroche, who hugged him from behind and then they both fell asleep next to each other :((

- Gavroche fucking died (i knew he did still heartbreaking) and was caught by Enj, who handed him to Grantaire

- During the Gavroche solo, Grantaire stood center stage looking to the crowd, not even flinching when the gun sounded, only turning around when Gavroche was already at the top of the barricade

- He tried shaking him awake :(( then set him down and stared at him :((

- That was until Marius fell, Enjolras rushing to check on him, making Grantaire rush to his side

- R grabbed onto Enj and they both held the back of each other’s necks,, from my angle it looked like their foreheads touched but idk if they would do that but MANNN

-Enjolras fucking died first (no wtf :(( )

- Grantaire fucking died last (BRO.)

- Everyone fucking died bro

- Except Marius and JVJ of course

- Mr Thenardier, instead of singing “This one’s a queer but what can you do”, sang “This one’s a queer, I’ll try it to!” and dipped a guy in the wedding 😭

- The “to love another person is to see the face of god” line always makes me emotional just :((

that’s it haha hopefully y’all enjoy the ramblings, ty for reading this far, i seriously recommend going to watch it if you can it’s truly the most amazing thing i’ve ever seen man 😭 may be biased but i’m serious

[pocketsizedq]

Happy Birthday Papa Bear

As it became morning in the captain house little feet could be heard running into the bedroom where the birthday boy slept also known as the father of the running little feet.

As his youngest son Noah got up onto the bed with a bit of struggle. Noah starts trying to wake his dad which was his mission of the morning.

You followed behind the three year old boy carrying the tray of food you had made for husband with the help of the oldest boy who was a carbon copy of his dad were as Noah took after you.

Rowden gets up onto the king sized bed beside his younger brother trying to help him wake up Quinn.

You thought it was the cutest thing. They started to get frustrated when after all their jumping and chanting didn't work so they look over at you for help.

"Mama we need your help.." your oldest son spoke up looking at you with almost pleading eyes but that is when you noticed Quinn was awake the whole time.

Quinn knew he had always wanted to have kids and be a dad but when you told him you were pregnant with your guys oldest you both were barely twenty and he had just been drafted by the canucks, but he knew in his heart everything would work out and they did.

He had already been awake but stayed asleep because he heard you and the boys in the kitchen messing around and he also didn't want to get out of bed.

You let out a soft giggle noticing the big grin you fell in love covering your husband face as he pulls both of his boys into his arms which make them scream as thinking that there dad was still asleep.

Quinn starts attacking his sons with tickles which make them erupt in giggles and squeals as they try and fight against their dads tickle attacks.

You grin from ear to ear watching your husband play with your guys sons which makes you fall more in love with him.

Quinn stops tickling his sons glancing over at you with a smile saying "whatcha got mama bear?"

You let out a soft giggle saying "breakfast in bed for the hard working birthday boy"

Quinn's heart fills with so much warmth as He watches you walk over with the tray of food in your hands taking notices a box and drawn birthday cards on the tray.

He sits up after stopping the five and three year old who were fighting on whose card was better. you set the tray in his lap giving him a kiss on the lips.

Quinn starts looking at both the cards his sons had drawn him which made him chuckle a little as they weren't the best but he loves the cards.

Noah spoke up in his very much three year old way saying "happy birthday daddy"

Quinn chuckles then ruffing his youngest son's hair saying "thank you bud." He looks over at his oldest to which he says "thank you for the card and mama says you helped make breakfast is that true?"

Rowden nods grinning from ear to ear looking at his dad saying "I made you a cake too!"

Quinn eyes light up and he could feel his face start to hurt from smiling so much saying "I can't wait to try it bud"

You pick up the box that was on the tray handing it to him which made your hands shake a little which made the captain noticed but he didn't say anything.

Quinn takes the pretty blue box into his hand undoing the bow on top moving the lid to the blue box and looks inside find a little version of his captain's jersey and sonogram picture.

He nearly drops the box when seeing what is in the box saying "i'm going to be a dad again! this is the best present ever!"

He pulls you into a big kiss to which Rowden makes a big eww sound with noah copying him. Quinn wraps his arm around you holding you close forgetting about the tray of food.

"Happy Birthday Papa Bear We love you."

[crypt1dcorv1dae]

I think a lot of people forget that the reason zenitsu can fight while asleep/unconscious is because during his training, he even trained in secret by himself at night and barely slept, which is probably what conditioned his body to fight even in a state of unconsciousness because he was so sleep deprived during training he probably WASNT actually fully awake. He literally trained so hard and so constantly that he can do it in his sleep.

(and of course the reason he's physically able to fight even while asleep and with his eyes closed is because of his incredible hearing, he can hear everything around him and uses that to locate things almost like echolocation. He's like fuckin daredevil over here man)

And the reason he's not afraid while he's sleep-fighting is cus that "version" of himself can put aside/ignore the anxiety he suffers from while awake, it's not quite an alter but like, from what I know, it is similar in certain aspects, it's just a different aspect of himself that he uses to cope with anxiety, like after his fight with the spider freak on the mountain, as he's passing out he's "dreaming" that he's strong and brave and helps everyone... So basically, the "asleep version" is ... The him that he is in his dreams. the one who's not afraid of anything, and is stronger than anyone, it's his dream self that exists in his subconscious coming to the forefront more or less.

Or at least that's my take on it!!! Idk I just like talking about my guy over here. He is very special to me and I think about him a lot. Anyway he is my son and I adore him he has worked so hard and complained the entire time but he has WORKED SO DAMN HARD!!!!!!!!!!

[volturiprincess]

A late night conversation with Felix (Extended Version)

Felix Volturi x human mate reader

Summary: The conversation that happens between reader and Felix late at night when reader has a hard time falling asleep Warnings: None really, just some curse words and some mentions of smut but overall cute fluff A/N: I finally got to it and I got to say it was fun to write. its not really structured like a one-shot, its more like back and forth dialogue. Something different but I loved it. There will be a second A/N in the end. F/c: favorite color Word Count: 1060 🌹~~~~~~~~~~~🌹~~~~~~~~~~~~🌹~~~~~~~~~~~~🌹~~~~~~~~~~~~🌹

(Mighty fine man)

I have been awake for the past hour chatting away with Felix. I am supposed to be sleeping but sleep appears to not be on my side currently. And it does not help that Felix just lets me talk away and does not even bother to make me fall asleep– but that is one of the many reasons why I love him. Our current situation right now is him barely fitting on the twin size bed in my dorm, his poor legs are dangling off the bed while I'm snuggled on top of him with his arms wrapped around me. This is not the first night where we have been like this, Felix likes to visit me as frequently as he can at night when he is not away on some mission or has a night guard shift. Even if I am currently in college (one that is close to Volterra), we spend a lot of time together either studying, going on dates, sex in the most risky places in my campus, and my favorite thing; lying in bed with him late at night talking about the most random crap to exist like now

“ Felix? Do you know why a raven is like a writing desk?”

I heard him take an unnecessary breath before he responded

“My dear little rose, sometimes you really are a mystery to me, what goes through that pretty head of yours when iIm not around?

“Well first of all school, and that stupid essay that's due tomorrow but then my mind wanders to you and your jaw dropping arms that just fits so perfectly around me or how your large hand makes quiet the nice necklace”

The way he gasp made me think I really did catch him off guard 

“And here I thought my little cara was a good girl and only focused on school”

“Well you thought wrong big guy, how am I supposed to think clearly when I have you as a lover? The way you know how to have me on my knees for you with just a look is just insane?”

Without even looking at him I knew he had that shark-like grin he gets when his ego is boosted which never fails to amuse me.

“You know the way you always compliment me with your modern words makes me fall for you more than you can imagine”

“Oh don't get soft on me yet big guy, you haven't even meet my delusional self when I lack sleep”

He chuckled slightly

“Oh cara, nothing could make me love you less”

“Hmmm, mind if I ask you something Fe?

“Anything amore”

“Do you have a switch? 

Dead silence once again with his small sigh 

“...No…..why?”

“Because I want to turn you on.”

The dead silence that came after made me think that I finally broke him but then the booming laugh that came out of him made me look up at him in shock. My eyebrows then furrowed in confusion when he calmed down after 5 minutes of laughter

“With that being said short stack you should get some rest, you need it”

“First of all, who are you calling short stack?”

“You obviously, look at you compared to me, you fit on this bed perfectly while im barely on it”

“Well it's not my fault you’re a whole ass unit of a man, look at you, I mean i'm not complaining, I love your size, but then again that's probably my size kink that clouds my mind when I see you”

In a teasing voice he replied

“Is that the only thing you think about when you see me, not my dashing smile, or my wonderful personality that can make you blush easily and make you weak in the knees”

“On the contrary I love those characteristics of yours, your more that I can handle half of the time”

He chuckles again and then says calmly

“Just close your eyes, i'll be here when you wake up in the morning”

“Like it's that easy Felix, you think I don't do that every night?’

“Well if you don't go to sleep then I will make you sleepy”

The dead silence after that was so thick that even Alec’s gift would be jealous.

“Is that a promise?”

He tilted my head slightly so I could look at him and he that look that look like he was going to eat me whole and that instantly sent an electric feeling of aroused to my core

“If you don't fall asleep soon then….no sex for a week”

The audacity of this man– well vampire has to deny me sex for a week is absurd, who does he think he is to say such a thing?

“You wouldn't dare”

“Oh but I will”

“You wouldn't last a day without being intimate with me”

“Oh but I managed to last centuries without having sex”

“Well I uh, now it's different Felix, found your mate now, you wouldn't last a day”

“So you want to bet on that then?”

“WHAT no, are you insane, i'm only saying you wouldn't last, me on the other hand, well that's a different story”

“Alright I won't deny you what you desire, but you need to sleep already tesoro, I don't want you to fall asleep in your classes”

“Well then you haven't met my english professor have you, he has this monotone voice that sounds like a combination of Kermit the frog and a flat line, I don't know whether to hold in a laugh or to fall asleep”

“Kermit the Frog? Who is that?”

“Oh right your like a million years old, he's a muppet and he's a frog obviously”

“A muppet? I never heard of that, is he like a puppet then?”

“In a way, you know what, tomorrow night we will have a movie night and I will show you the muppet movie, okay my love?”

“Alright, but now sleep or I will be serious about my threat”

“Ok ok, don't need to be dramatic now, look i'll close my eyes now”

Unfortunately the minute I closed my eyes, sleep over took me and I passed out in a minute in the coldness that naturally Felix releases and my f/c quilt draped over me that Felix got me for my birthday last year. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: The part where I said about having a professor that has a voice combination of Kermit and a flat line is true. Anyways, I hope you like it and my I will start working on a Jasper one-shot, I got inspiration from a song recently so something to look forward to.

[likethexan]

Some Zeus and Hera paintings

Just found them on the web, and I couldn't help but make some commentary

Jupiter Asleep on Mount Ida, Jean-Jacques-François Le Barbier (circa 1785)

Yeah, that's Hypnos on top of them, sprinkling his sleep powder on Zeus (though it looks like he's hanging mistletoe on them LOL). Love that Hera is still awake, in a "Look-What-I-Did" smirky way, love that for her, Love that Zeus just looks peaceful, which does make sense since Hera must have fucked him real good-

Zeus and Hera on Mount Ida, Andries Cornelis Lens (1775)

Less impactful version but its funnier. Why does Zeus look disgusted at the two children below him than look like he's asleep? Why is Hera making that pose? She looks like she's about to catch a rabbit. Are we the rabbit? Is this Hypnos' POV?

Zeus with Hera expelling Hephaestus, Gaetano Gandolfi (1765)

I did not just see non-modern art of Zeus and Hera both kicking Hephaestus out of Olympus...THE POOR GUY. Apparently, the artist previously named it Zeus with Cybele expelling Chronos, which sounds a lot cooler and less mean because Cronus at least DESERVES IT??? Well, still a joint slay (...I think?)

[saturnville]

I just got an idea for another part of the letter series: John writes to Amelia that he worries she’s not going to like this version of himself. He’s just filled with a lot of doubt and he understands if she wants to end things where it’s at. Amelia assures John that she’s with him now & forever.

a letter to you, major john egan

pairing: major john egan x amelia mae egan warning: implicit discussions about mental health content: in which john writes to amelia about his doubts. tag list: @neeville @turn-thy-paige @ihe4rtisa @ineedafictionalman @lovebyceleste @alliewassobonum an: I want all to know that in my mind, amelia and john stay together until they die and she changed her middle name to rose.

John Egan’s mind was under attack. Bullets of doubt and missiles of hopelessness infiltrated the barriers that were once sturdy and stable. Everything came crashing down like the walls of Jericho. 

Days felt longer as their time in Germany grew elongated. The nights dragged by and never seemed to end. The only thing that lulled him to sleep were the words of Amelia Mae on the now-wrinkled sheet of paper he kept in the pocket of his coat. It was the blood for his body; the only thing that kept him alive. 

He had no issue falling asleep most nights. All other nights, however, his heavy eyes stayed open and refused to close. So, he did what was unusual for him to do--write. He’d sulk off into a corner with one of the oil lamps, pull out a sheet of dingy paper, and write until his hand cramped and his tears signed his signature for him. 

My darlin’ Amelia Rose, 

I hear we’re gettin’ out of here soon. I surely hope that’s the cause; I don’t know how much longer I can deal with this. The Germans are intense; always on guard and ready to strike at any moment. One wrong move, or even just a wrong breath, lands a man dead. I’ve seen more bodies collapse just tryin’ to survive in the camp than I did in the air. 

Stuff like this changes a man, Rose. The guys are convinced I lost it ‘cause repeating old ball games is the only thing the keeps my mind off the horrors of being a damn prisoner. I haven’t eaten a real meal since the day I left you. I haven’t felt the warmth of my own bed and it makes me as cold as I feel at night. 

Rose, I don’t know what it’s gonna be like when I come home.

I’ve heard stories of when men make it home to their ladies; not all of them are good. He ends up chasing her away. I don’t want to chase you away, but I don’t want to hurt you either. This version of me is not the one you knew and I don’t know if you’ll love him like you did the other version of me.

I can’t think straight. I can’t sleep through the night. I’m just…here. 

And if you don’t want to be with me because of that, I understand. It would hurt, but I would get it. You’re a good woman, Rose and I don’t want to make you feel any sort of pain.

I’ve got to get back to my bunk before someone notices I’m missing, or even worse, the Germans find out I’m awake. 

I think about you always and miss you dearly. Write back soon. 

With all my love, 

Johnny

It took three weeks to receive something back from her. He thought he’d be used to it by now, the waiting game, that is. But at this point, anxiety was his portion and fed him well. The mind games began to get more complex as the voices of uncertainty spurred him on with tricks. What she divorced him? Left him high and dry because he wasn’t the same. He wouldn’t know what to do with himself. 

John huffed as he played with the corners of the most recent (three week old) letter he received. The other man were gathered around the child-like sized tables playing cards, talking, and joking. They were better at making the most of situations than he was. He was good at it for some time, but the repetition grew old, and the song he knew so well became unfamiliar. 

A familiar, “Mail, boys!” came ruggedly from the doorway. The men scattered like flies, sorting and sifting through the letters. John’s eyes lit up as he stood to his feet, gratefully taking the letter from the mailman’s hand. He sauntered off to a corner and slid down the wall. 

Her handwriting was just as pretty as it always had been. Major John Egan, written in the middle with a red pen. It was his favorite color because it reminded him of her cherry red lip stick that stained his skin whenever she wore it. John tore the top of the envelope and pulled the letter out. His heartrate increased. 

Dear John, 

I can’t help but say that it pains me to know that you think I’d leave you. Do you remember the vows we took? For better or for worse and in sickness and in health? If I didn’t believe I could stand by those words, I wouldn’t have said them. And, I knew I married a soldier. This comes with the territory. 

You’ve seen things I would deem unimaginable. You’ve heard things that would drive me mad. You’ve felt a pain that I couldn’t picture. Do you know how foolish I would be to think you’d come back the same way you left? 

When I married you, I married the versions of you that you and I have yet to see. 

I am here for you, John Egan. I’m not going anywhere. 

The light at the end of the tunnel isn’t clear to you right now, and that’s okay. We’ll work on it when you come home. We are a unit; we move together. So, we’ll get through it. Together. 

Get some rest, John. It’s not over for you--your story doesn’t end here. 

With everlasting love,  

Rose

He wasn’t aware of his tears until they smeared the lipstick stain on the lower corner. John brought the letter to his face, inhaling the scent of her perfume. So sweet. She’d wait for him. She wouldn’t, no she refused to leave him. 

How good it felt to be loved by her.

[graciegoeskrazy]

yeah, you wanna find love

matty healy + teen!swiftie!daughter!reader

warnings: some language, angst, fluff, cheating

a/n: do u guys get the title? get it? get it? the title? cuz she sang it? the city? at satvb? get it?

ty bae anon who requested im in LOVE.

I know Eras and Matty and her dating happened way after Red TV was released but shhhhhhhhh

Like any other normal teenage girl, you got excited every time Taylor Swift dropped an album, announced an album, or did anything remotely hinting at herself and her work. Even if it was a far stretch, you were on social media like the rest ready to prove or debunk theories. Tonight, she’s releasing her second re-recording, Red (Taylor’s Version) You were a fan. Even though she and your father dated for like a month and now they never speak to each other and the chances of you seeing The Eras Tour ever again are slim to none, you admired her so much.

Your dad had said goodnight and sent you to bed more than an hour ago. You planned to go against his wishes a little bit and stay up and listen to the album. It was only one time, and it was for the sake of music, so if you got caught he wouldn't be too upset, right? …Right?

The plan was all fine until you got hungry. The kitchen was connected to the living room which is where your father spent most of his late nights, doing work, watching TV, sleeping, whatever. It was quiet so you assumed that he had already gone upstairs for the night or was fast asleep on the couch. It all gave you the confidence to believe that you could sneak into the pantry and not be seen. You were wrong, however.

“Go to bed.”

He was there. Wide awake. Just quietly scrolling through his phone.

You pouted. “C’mon. It comes out in like an hour.”

He never took his eyes off his phone. “And you have to wake up at 6 am for school tomorrow.”

“And I’m still gonna go! One night of staying up and listening to an album isn’t going to change my perfect grades or 4.0 GPA.”

“I said no.” His voice grew a little more stern.

Your begging was now at a full 10. “This is a big deal, Dad! Just because you can’t listen to Taylor anymore doesn’t mean that I shouldn’t!”

“What I say goes, you know that.”

You smirked. “Oh, so it was fine when it was your album?” He hated it when you were a smart-ass. Mainly because you reminded him too much of himself when you acted that way.

He rolled his eyes and sighed. “Go to bed.”

“Ughhhhh.” You slumped up the stairs.

“I love you, baby.”

“And I love your ex!”

…

Almost 2 hours later, Matty got tired of the things he saw on Instagram, and the yawns he kept giving let him know that it was time for bed. As he walked upstairs he heard the faintest sound

At first, he thought it was because of something he had done. He thought that maybe the attitude he showed earlier was too much, but on the other hand, he knew his girl was too tough for that to break her. He opened the door and saw your frame curled on the bed. Your face was buried in your pillow but it was evident by the bits that were showing that your face was red and littered with tears. You heard him open the door and walk to you, but you didn't move.

“What’s happened.” He asked quietly as he slipped in into the other side and pulled you close.

“Just shut up. I just need you.” You were harsh but he knew your tone held no true anger or hurt.

“Okay. Okay, I’m here. I’m right here.” He held you as you cried into his chest. You were sobbing. You tried to catch your breath between the hiccups and cries, but it took minutes for you to fully calm down. To you, those minutes felt like hours, and as time went on Matty became increasingly worried about the severity of the situation.

You took one last big inhale, then spoke. “He cheated on me”

“What?”

“He cheated on me…then dumped me when I found out.”

“When?! When did this happen?”

“A little less than a week ago.” He sighed, He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. You and your boyfriend had been dating for nearly 2 years. From the way it looked to the outside world, you two were as happy as could be. Matty always had his doubts but he chalked it up to the typical dad senses overreacting, especially because you always looked so happy and you hadn't been that way in a long time. “I should’ve broken it off long ago.” You hiccuped and cried through your next words. “He ignores me. Everything I say. Everything I do. It's like I’m talking to a brink wall half of the time. I tell him I’ve had enough and he apologizes and makes me feel great like I’m the only one who matters, and then he makes the same fucking mistakes, over and over and over again. He likes the idea of a relationship but doesn't want to put in the work of having one. At least when it comes to me…”

Matty didn't know what to say. It was a complete shock to him. “He doesn’t know what he’s missing-”

“Yes, he does. He just doesn't care.”

“How did this happen, if this happened a bit ago then why are you crying just now?”

You hid your face again. He rubbed your back. “You’re gonna laugh…”

“I won't laugh-”

“You’re gonna be mad,” You said, looking up.

He smiled. “I won't. Promise.” He said, winking.

You sighed and buried your head back into him. “I was listening to the 10-minute version of All Too Well.”

“God, bubs.”

You sat up and looked at him. “Let me live! It was too real. I related too much. I’m serious.”

He reached his arms back up, guiding you to come back to him. “I know. Im sorry.”

You pouted as he placed a kiss on the top of your head. “Do you ever cry to my songs?”

“Only of embarrassment.”

[papayafiles]

i have a draft from ages ago that goes "god i wish i could time travel ten years into the future to see how many world championships lando norris has won" but the more i think about it, the more i think that if i did, via some crazy scifi shenanigans, end up in the future, i would do everything possible to avoid finding out the wdc results. and it's the same reason watching a replay of a race where you already know the results never hits as hard as waking up at the crack of dawn to watch it through a laggy grainy livestream, frantically livetweeting or liveblogging every lock up and overtake, heart in your mouth, the rest of the world falling away, fully locked in on 60 laps of cars just vrooming around and around in loops. because a huge part of this sport is the anticipation, the hope and the faith and the possibility. the not knowing is painful, and the thought that my driver's entire career could pass without that coveted championship—that i could follow him for years into the future, and never get to watch our wildest dreams come true—literally haunts my nightmares. and i know it's a possibility—it happened to so many promising young drivers, due to circumstance or luck or timing or talent or skill or any combination of the above (see daniel ricciardo)—and i know that becoming a world champion is such a rarity, but despite all that, at this moment in time, i'm convinced that lando is a future world champion.

and i think that kind of belief, the whole i don't know where it came from or how i ended up here but i believe it so absolutely this is borderline religious, is a part of what makes being a sports fan so much fun. it's what makes this such a special, magical, incredible experience. getting into sports is the last thing i thought i'd do; i spent my entire childhood not really getting it, because if this is just a game, then why are people losing their heads over something that's not even real? and i have a whole separate monologue about exactly why i think sports are so compelling to so many, which i won't get into in full now, but one of the best parts of it all is getting to believe in something that much. having faith, holding faith, keeping faith over time: the odds are stacked against literally every athlete, because this whole career path is so treacherous and random and slippery; so many things could go wrong so fast, half a tenth of a second and it's all over, but i'm still here, and i believe in my driver always. that's been proven through his past results, obviously, but it's also: i chose him, or he chose me, or some cosmic combination of events occurred circa austria/silverstone 2023, and now i'm in this for life.

i honestly feel so bad for people who have never experienced this kind of fan(girl) experience—and really, i see it a lot, particularly with the whole internet irony epidemic we're in, people who make fun of fans of any celebrity for being sooo parasocial and cringey, for feeling such magnitude of emotion over someone we don't even know, who has no idea we exist, etc etc etc and it's like: i really don't think that's the point? of course the version of lando who lives rent free my head is different to the real 24 year old british adult man probably fast asleep in his monegasque bed rn. when i blog about him and i call him my little guy and my future world champion and my favorite person in the world, that's a version of him who exists in the gray space between the real person, his public media personality, the fervors of my f1/lando norris obsession, everything i've read or written about him, every image or video i've seen, every night i lay awake dreaming about him, etc. and that version of him is my guy. the experiences that led me to the place and the person i am now, one inextricable from the past year-and-a-half of living breathing and loving this sport so much all my friends know i'm a die-hard fan, is special and is mine and is more important than a simple "lol she thinks she knows this millionaire." i lay no claim to the man himself, but this experience, these emotions, this faith, this community and these memories—they're all mine.

one of these days i will watch him cross the finish line in abu dhabi in first place, and i will hear his uncontrollable screams of joy over the radio, the way his voice goes up higher when he's happy and his accent comes in stronger and he suddenly sounds young again, and he'll thank the team back at the factory and he'll thank will and he'll thank his parents and his siblings and his family, and i'll be sitting over my laptop in my lando hoodie sobbing into my hands, and he'll pull into that first place spot and climb out and stand on top of the car that brought him there, and he'll put his fists up in the sky and i'll watch him, and the entire grid will come around to hug and congratulate him, max and oscar and carlos and all the rest of the drivers who love a story and love a new champion and love him, and then he'll take off his helmet and his hair will be all crazy and there will be symmetric balaclava lines on his face, his ears will be flushed red, and he'll be smiling so big and wide, all wild, infectious joy, jenson or nico or hell even david coulthard will do the post-race interviews and they'll ask him how he feels and he'll respond with something that will be plastered on my twitter timeline and then i'll watch him raise the trophy on the podium with this sense of elated disbelief in my chest, and i'll log on here and say "is this real IS THIS REAL" and "i can't believe this is REAL" and "oh my god. oh my god this is actually happening THIS IS REAL MY DRIVER IS A WORLD CHAMPION" and the national anthem will play and he'll throw his head back still grinning and still happy all golden and glowing and radiant, having won it all, and i'll cancel all my plans to cry on the internet about it. it'll be miami 2024 all over again, but magnified and elevated on every single level. and i don't even want to time travel forward and find out for sure when that moment will come, because honestly, i'd rather not rob my future self of the unbelievable feeling when it finally hits, when lando norris world champion passes from the realm of daydreams and manifestations and uncertain tremulous maybes, to certainty, reality, the undeniable truth. to: this is the timeline we're in, and god am i glad, god is it the best one. all those years of waiting and hoping and dreaming and fearing, holding this so carefully in the palms of my hands as if it's a possibility i can make true, somehow, if i just think about it hard enough, delicately enough, cheering him on with everything i have, and now. and here. the champagne pop on the podium, the alchemy playing on repeat, he's getting sprayed from every direction, that ginormous world champion trophy, the shine of his reflection in the gold, the instagram post, the message of gratitude that i'll want to get tattooed onto my eyelids, the tribute video and his name engraved in the annals of history, the entire mtc roaring his name, grandstands of flouro rising to their feet, lando norris formula 1 driver race winner world champion, my guy forever. i want it all. i can't wait i can't wait i can't wait but i will, i'll wait as long as it takes, and this is real to me, to me it's already been written, i'm just waiting for that chapter to arrive. because it will.

[pepsiv4l]

-SI NO ES CONTIGO-

♫ Fratboy!Chris x bunny!reader ♫

Summary-you and Fratboy!Chris have been dating for a while now, one day Chris brings you along to one of his Frat parties, you end up getting carried away, Chris was annoyed at first but you know he’s always had a soft spot for you.. (Matt version right here)

Warnings- Use of alcohol/drinking- drug dealing

“Si no es contigo amor Yo no quiero a nadie má”

You were laying in bed scrolling on instagram until your boyfriend, Chris walks in. “Hey babyyy” you drag the last letters as Chris chuckled and laid beside you in bed “hi beautiful, m’missed you” he wrapped his arm around you waist as he nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck. You giggled at his sudden cuddle. He then looks up at you and plants a soft kiss on your lips “hey pretty, wanna go to one of m’parties , huh?” You look at Chris and smile “of course I wanna go my love , just f’you!” You say with a bright smile displaying on your lips, “get ready then gorgeous, more pretty than normal” You get out of bed and paddle over to your closet. Couple minutes later you put some high knees socks with a short pink skirt and a tank top with Chris’s big hoodie. You let your hair down and walk over to Chris so you gush can head out , He eyes you up and down as he sees your small form in that skirt, Chris bites his lip “what a sight m’love”

-AT THE PARTY-

As you and Chris entered the house , immediate loud music started to play as people walked around, drank, dance whatever. Chris grabs your hand, trying to keep you close as possible , not wanting to take any chances of other guys hitting on you. You then see him walk over to his other friend which are a bunch of frat boys “What’s up boy.. I got sum shi” he murmurs as he pulls out a small baggie from the instead of his leather jacket. Later that night you had separated Chris and ended up getting really drunk. You had just drank your sixth cup of alcohol , you feel your phone buzz from your pocket , you stumble to get it out and struggle to put in the pass code from your slightly blurry vision Chris had texted you “Ay Ma where the fuck u at?” You softly giggle and stumble through the crowd of people , spotting Chris. You stumble towards him , falling into his arms “fuck you been Ma?” ,look up at him with your big doe eyes letting out a laugh he then soon realizes your definitely hella drunk “heyyyy babyyy” he sighs showing a mix of annoyance but also lets out a chuckle as he wraps his hand around the back of your thighs and lifts you up, you lay your cheek on his shoulder as he carried you out the house and into his car. he sets you into the passenger seat and buckled you up then getting in the drivers seat n starting the car with a deep sigh as you feel his hand rub against your thigh. “Gosh , Y’know your gonna wake up a mess right ma?” “Yeahhhhh but I don’t careee!” You lay in your seat softly falling asleep as Chris starts driving home with his hand gripping on your thigh.

-AT HOME-

Chris gently picked you up and carried you into the house ,he kicked the door closed and walked over to your shared bedroom. He lays you down and takes off your shoes , changing you into a pair of his sweatpants and a large hoodie you always love to borrow from him. He tucks you in and walks out the room, going to the bathroom to take a shower . After Chris come back in the room but instead of seeing you asleep , you were awake “baby…why you leave me..” you say in a whiny voice but whisper , obv still drunk. Chris stops , a towel wrapped around his waist he smiles and walks over to you “just taken a shower ma don’t worry , get sum rest f’me hm?” He gently tucks your hair behind your ear as you lay down “night night babyyy” you wrap your arms around his neck as he plants a soft kiss on your forehead “night m’precious” he whispers in your ear as you fall into a deep sleep again , clutching your teddy bear in your arms as Chris changes into his pjs and lays next you , draping his arm across your body “I love you, sweetheart”

A/N: Really hope y’all like this oneeeee and always up for request , sorry for any grammar errors!!