#anyway I need to read a lot more I’m not very far into it

[communistkenobi]

I really need to get more into marxist god-building. As soon as I started reading a review of Lunacharsky’s writings on how Marxism evokes religious emotion and is basically scientific theology it was like discovering what i had believed but didn’t realise it

[omotelie]

WHERE’S MY FUKING CAPO

[genderqueer-karma]

beloved moots i’m sorry but i have to be unwell

[seventh-district]

CW: mention of death and health issues (but it’s in a relatively positive light, for once!)

[onlyswan]

summary: in which you drive jungkook mad but you make his heart beat.

idol!jungkook x f!reader, est. relationship / fluff, suggestive, a pinch of angst / word count: 5k

content/warnings: tried sumn different so this is mainly from jungkook’s pov :D !! drummer!oc ur so cool & i’m stealing u from ur bf 🏃— mention of a 10 yr age gap between jk & a guy who likes oc (he’s hella pissed off) ; mentions of (car) s^x ; allusion to a bl^wj^b ; jk just got home from tour & oc is tipsy, needy, & dramatic as hell T_T ; oc /briefly/ touches jk while he’s driving & he /nearly/ loses his shit & crashes the car (he doesn’t) (i’m kidding) + to the anon who wanted to jk’s cheek scar to get a kissy here u go 🥺

> in which masterlist!

note: oc is so shot glass of tears coded especially in this… i’m glad i’m posting this after golden came out just so i could say it 🥰 this takes place after this drabble sooo the end of oct 2018 <3 if u’ve read the prev drabble too, this was when jk said those exact words in the past 🥺 wrote this in the middle of hell week so i was half out of my mind :'] as always feedback & reblogs rrr always appreciated !! 🥺

—

jungkook loves the sound of rain— the gentle knocks on every surface of the earth has always been a lullaby even during daylight.

tonight is a different story, however. it is defeaning, terrifying even. he can barely see what is infront of him, spare the occasional headlights blazing across the slippery roads. his umbrella is being stolen away by the harsh gusts of wind and the mud stains on his sneakers are well-hidden by the plain black.

and yes, he is tired; and yes, this is hard, but that is the end of it.

you’re exactly where you told him you’d wait, far behind the edge of the roof where the rainwater falls from and splashes on the ground. you stand out in his blue oversized shirt, one that he purposely left behind in your closet so he could have something else to wear when he sleeps over.

you’re too busy typing on your phone to see him crossing the parking lot; he feels his very own vibrate in the pocket of his sweatpants. however, his giddy smile fades when a man exits through the entrance door and approaches you with a red umbrella. his strides become slightly hurried then, as he watches you politely decline it with that heart-fluttering smile of yours everybody adores.

“oh no, really, i’m fine. you might need it later! my boyfriend is already coming to pick me up anyway.”

jungkook acts cool. he tucks his hand in the pocket of his sweatpants, tries to make himself appear bigger because he realizes that he would be inches shorter than the man if not for the platforms of his shoes.

“____, baby!”

upon hearing your name coming from the lips of your lover, your face lights up even brighter.

“jungkook!”

you greet him with an embrace, jumping into his arms before he can properly set down his umbrella on the ground.

“yah, yah-yah! be careful!” he chuckles as he wraps his arms around your waist to catch you, peering down to check how high your boots are for you to be running and jumping around freely.

“hey, i’m going back inside- there’s more customers coming in. make it home safe, alright?”

the stranger tries to catch your attention, and jungkook’s protectiveness swiftly kicks in when he lays a hand on you and slides it down to your lower back. your boyfriend turns you away from the unprompted touch by pulling your body closer to his side, and he is unable to control how his eyebrows knit together in annoyance.

he wasn’t planning on giving much thought to the presence of a man around you. he knows better than that. but he has never heard about this one, which raises the question of who the fuck is he to freely touch you like that?

“oh- alright! thank you, jun!”

“you better take care of ____, man. it’s dangerous around here during this time.”

he receives a rather heavy and condescending pat on the shoulder, and so, with his annoyance bubbling worse, he wears a passive aggressive smile on his face.

“yeah, of course i am,”

jun’s nostrils flare as he witnesses you sneakily slide your hands underneath jungkook’s hoodie in search of warmth.

“i’m here now, so there’s no need to worry about my girlfriend anymore.”

he nods, then forces himself to smile. “that’s good, then.”

“yeah, thanks. we’re leaving.”

“oh, okay. have a nice night!”

“you too,”

he turns on his heel and returns inside the busy establishment— but not before jungkook made sure that he saw the bruises on his knuckles that he got from his boxing sessions.

his jaw clenches as he glares at the door.

is he being petty? sure, to hell with that. he doesn’t care. he’s always been one to trust his gut, and he has a bad feeling.

he is met by a love-drunk smile when his undivided attention is at last given to you, in the form of fond eyes and affectionate strokes of your hair.

“who was that?”

“eh, new bartender,” you shrug with disinterest. “hm, i think he’s 31…? he’s nice but he keeps talking about wrestling.”

he raises an eyebrow at the mention of his age, while your lips form a sad pout.

what the hell? he thought he would be 25 at most.

“the tv has been in the same channel for the past two weeks because of him. it’s all i’ve been seeing! i don’t like it-” you whine in distress, quite frankly, a little traumatized.

an endeared smile is coaxed out of him at your adorableness, how your speech is a little slurred and how you’re looking at him like you’re begging him to do something about it.

“makes me nervous,”

his dominant hand closes into a fist.

if he only he had known. should’ve fucking punched the guy, give him a taste of what he seems to be a huge fan of.

“let’s watch something calming when we get home, how about that?”

you nod your head, eyes that twinkle with eagerness fluttering shut when he leans in for a much awaited kiss. how sweet, he feels a little more alive than before. he can smell it, even taste it— the peach margarita you started sipping on before the band’s first set. concocted by jun, he presumes. he pulls away with a small smile, licking his lips for the traces of you that clung to him.

out of the blue, you burst into a fit of giggles, weak knees buckling as your weight crashes on him.

“i missed you!”

“babe, are you seriously drunk?” he chuckles, holding you with a secure grip around your torso.

“maaaybe tipsy…? i was pretending not to be.” you stand on your tip-toes to nuzzle your face against his neck, mumbling sheepishly. “only trust you.”

—

“i should’ve accepted the umbrella.” you grunt childishly, body going limp on jungkook’s back, except for the arm holding up the umbrella that shields the both of you from the pouring rain.

“yah!” he scolds you, clearly not pleased with the words that just came from your mouth. “what does that mean?”

“i’m embarrassed! they’re probably feeling bad for you.”

the last sentence comes out as a whisper, pertaining to the side glances you’ve been attracting from strangers as you make your way to your boyfriend’s car.

unfortunately, he had to park somewhere far because the restobar’s parking lot was already full.

you jokingly complained about staining your white boots with dirt and mud, but you instantly regretted it when he bent down, signalling you to ride on his back without an ounce of hesitation.

“our shoulders always get wet when we share an umbrella,” he said. “if i carry you, wouldn’t it be better?”

“embarrassing? some would even say romantic!”

something peculiar happens then— when your lips ghost over his left cheek, planting an affectionate kiss there that lasts for seconds. you pull away with a smacking sound, giggly and bubbly, might be his favorite version of you.

“i love you,” you hum, grasping the umbrella upright before it could tip over.

he doesn’t know if you did it on purpose or not, kissing him precisely where his scar is, but his heart jumps in his chest when he feels it begin to throb.

as if the wound from his childhood has come alive. as if, once again, he is bleeding as he glares at his older brother, and he still wants to play games on the computer oblivious to the fact that it would leave a permanent scar, a brand new landmark on his body.

you mistake his silence for something else.

you frown, warm breath tickling his neck as you quietly ask. “are you still mad at me?”

he sighs, vision landing on the ground as his walking pace slows down. “no? i was wrong. i shouldn’t have questioned your decision in the first place… why would i be mad?”

you started playing the drums for your friend’s band two months ago, just as soon as he left for tour. you volunteered after witnessing how distraught they were when their drummer vanished without a trace. he learned that it used to be a hobby of yours from childhood until early teenage years, playing the drums, but it was robbed from you when your father took his instruments with him when he abandoned your home for another.

he was pleasantly surprised when he learned about it, recounted all the times your hands and fingers were drumming on any sort of surface and his head naturally bopped to the beat, but then again, you never brought it up.

isn’t ____ so cool? he would proudly say when he flaunts you to his friends, even the protocol team, who have never seen him so happy.

three times a week, from nine in the evening until midnight, your phone was propped up on an empty table infront of the stage, and him, on the other side of the globe, excitedly watched you from backstage while he was getting ready for their own show. some other times, he was in his hotel room, or the private jet. his patience has been tested by crappy wifi, nosy and noisy people, and his earphones that stopped working while you looked insanely attractive grooving to ‘why’d you only call me when you’re high?’ as you effortlessly played the drums. he showered you with compliments as you did for him. you’re working hard so he must do the same.

he arrived home from tour the other day, spent the rest of its hours sleeping. yesterday, he waited for you at school and then at work like a lost puppy, slept on your bed (if he’s being honest, the two of you didn’t do much sleeping) then woke up at 9am for work.

and he tried his best, he really did, to get out of the company early enough to catch you playing a song or two. after all, it was your last day at the job.

much as you enjoyed reconnecting with an old flame— loved the overflowing tips that came from those who were amazed by your talent (well, there were also those who were just trying to get into your pants), the moment that the old drummer got down on his knees begging to be taken back by his best friends, just like how you became a part of the band, you voluntarily stepped down.

jungkook didn’t agree with this decision. he didn’t understand why you’d sacrifice something that makes you happy for a person who fucked up and wasted what they had. you went back and forth over it on the phone until you cried, told him that it wasn’t easy for you, and he couldn’t hold you in his arms or kiss your face. he could only apologize, and it even felt insincere doing it through a screen.

maybe he’s only relieved that you no longer need to be around a man an entire decade older than he is, who is obviously interested in you and serves you alcohol drinks. no, that doesn’t sit right with him. he needs jun, or whatever the fuck his true name is, to stay very far away from his baby.

“i’m just sad that i never got to watch you perform in person.”

you rest your cheek on his shoulder, heavy eyelids slowly blinking as the headlights of a black van blindsides you.

what the fuck. too bright.

“me too…”

—

“i’m bored,” you release a dramatic sigh, stealing a glimpse of jungkook at the driver’s seat, just to see if you caught his attention like you intended.

his eyes are trained on the dashboard, however, focused on the navigation guide displayed on his phone. he isn’t very familiar with this part of the city. it took him more than an hour to arrive at the address you sent him, including the time he spent in the middle of traffic.

“forty-eight minutes, then we can do whatever you want.”

“whatever i want?”

he slows down the car, briefly turning his head to find you expectantly looking at him with wide, hopeful eyes.

“of course,” he laughs, taking one hand off the wheel to squish your cheeks together. “just tell me what it is, baby.”

he doesn’t catch the sad look that flashes across your face after you lose his touch.

“then i’ll tell you when i figure out what i want,” you say quietly.

“i thought you already had something in mind?”

“nope,” you answer with yet another sigh.

you choose to stare out the window in silence, body completely slumping into your seat in defeat.

jungkook’s senses are sharp, or he likes to believe so. “are you okay?”

“i’m okay,”

“you sure?”

“hmm,” you hum curtly, and then you close your eyes, so he decides not to press further despite wanting to.

he meets a red traffic light not long after that. and so, he hurriedly grabs the black fleece blanket in the backseat. he envelopes you in it, crossing the distance between you to softly press his lips onto yours for a goodnight kiss. he feels you respond, albeit lazily, and he smirks cockily when you lift yourself up to chase him for one more, please— desperately, to get your fill of goodnight kisses from the many nights that you missed it.

the time seems to tick excruciatingly slow now that you’re quiet. a minute is multiplied by a hundred. the steady rhythm of your breathing keeps him sane throughout dark avenues and encounters with reckless drivers of the midnight scene.

he missed you. he missed you so much, and he knows that you’re tired from university, and tutoring high school students in english, and playing the drums for more than two hours… but he selfishly wishes that you’re awake right now so he can make up for the two months that you were apart.

be careful of what you wish for, they said.

jungkook should know better by now.

“i can’t sleep,” he hears you whisper in a dulcet tone that indirectly tells him you’re in need of some love… but he isn’t given the chance to act upon that request because you’re already all over what it is that you need.

he swallows thickly, glancing down at your hand that has somehow found its way to his inner thigh— zeroing in on your red nails, can feel them faintly grazing his skin.

you’re so pretty. everywhere.

even when naked and bare.

no, especially. it’s all he can think about.

he can draw you from memory.

“____,” he utters your name through gritted teeth, heart beginning to race a thousand miles per second in his chest.

the effect of your teasing touch is instantaneous, slowly inching closer and closer to where his growing erection is. his eyes remain focused on the road, but he fears that he’ll start thinking with his dick soon if you carry on with this act a few seconds longer.

“shit, not now, baby- please- not while i’m driving.”

your bottom lip is caught between your teeth, poorly concealing a self-satisfied smirk, and you pretend not to hear a single word from his plea.

a minx, that’s what you are, always causing trouble and blurring lines in his eyes.

“____, i’m not joking around. don’t make me mad-”

his warning is cut short by-

“fuck… fuck,” he curses, filter flying out the window once he feels you tracing the outline of his hard-on, the feather-light touch of your fingers smoothly gliding across the fabric of his sweatpants, and he completely loses it when your soft palm caresses his cock, so gentle that it feels almost innocent.

okay, so he couldn’t feel it because you weren’t skin-to-skin, but he knows that your hands are soft, can feel his imagination running wilder because he has memorized the way they feel on most parts of his body.

you’re so incredibly nasty and evil for this— squeezing him lightly, taking advantage of how sensitive he’s gotten, making him tremble as pleasure shoots up his spine. his breath stutters in his lungs and he unconsciously pushes harder on the gas.

and although it means fighting every fiber of his being that painfully yearns for more, he seizes your wrist in an iron grip, placing your hand over the gearstick while his sits heavy on top of yours.

“____! behave! you’re going to get us killed!”

he watches you jut out your bottom lip through the rearview mirror, eyes hazy with lust staring down at where your hand used to be, and then his handsome face. he is evidently flushed, honey skin dusted with a rosy pink. all the way to the tips of his ears, down to his neck.

while he’s driving? really?

doesn’t this only happen in wet dreams?

you are not real.

“then pull over,” you plead. “please?”

he releases a shaky breath. you’re always so needy with alcohol in your system, drove him into total insanity while he couldn’t be here to give you what you wanted.

“no, you need to learn how to be patient… told you we can do whatever you want when we get home, right?”

wrong move.

the silence returns, and just when he thought that you went back to your journey to slumber, the sound of your sniffles fill the car.

jungkook’s heart breaks into a million pieces.

also, he wants to slam his head against the steering wheel.

you make it so fucking hard to resist you; you always get what you want. it becomes much harder when he is the subject of your desire and he loves being loved.

“haven’t i been patient enough…? i missed you so much.”

“and i missed you too!” he brings your intertwined hands to his lips, pressing them on your skin. “fuck, you have no idea how much… please, don’t cry.”

“then pull over,” you stubbornly insist, and he is so close to driving this car into a lamp post. “fuck me at the backseat.”

“can’t,” he mumbles, sounding almost pained, and he is. he wants you so bad, it hurts. “we’re going to have to do it without protection.”

“what do you mean?” you exclaim.

you rip your hand away from his, not wasting time in unlocking the glove compartment, and a sound of sheer disappointment escapes from your mouth as you collapse back on your seat.

“jungkook, i hate you!”

“well right now i hate myself too!” he cries out in frustration. “i didn’t have the time to buy more, okay?”

“and there’s not one in your wallet?”

“babe, are you serious?!”

“what?!”

somehow, his hands still expertly swivels the steering wheel as the car meets a curve.

but he feels dizzy. the ghost of your touch is still there, a promise of carnal pleasure unfulfilled.

“stop the car,” you say out of the blue, rather calmly, and that terrifies the shit out of him.

he swallows the lump in his throat, eyes switching between you and the road in panic. “huh?”

“i said stop the car, i’m stepping out.”

“babe, come on,” he moans, ruined and tormented. he reaches for your hand but you scoot further away from him, and he ignores the way his heart drops to his stomach as he kneads your exposed thigh instead. “please, don’t be like this. i just got home.”

“jungkook! if you don’t let me get off this car right now, i swear!”

the urgency embedded in your threatening voice leaves your boyfriend with no choice but to pull over to the side of the street as soon as he gets the chance.

he carries on to unbuckle his seatbelt.

“baby, stop being stu-”

he tries to reach for you, but he is rudely ignored as you hop off the car and slam the door shut on his face.

“…bborn…”

he blinks.

he inhales. he exhales.

and then he buries his face in his hands to scream… as quietly as possible.

“what the fuck was in that margarita?!”

—

jungkook steps out of the car worried sick about you. now wearing a black bucket hat, his head whips in different directions in search for the familiar shape of your body, your hair, your shirt that is his, anything.

his arm rests on top of the car door, the other on the roof, fingers drumming on it anxiously as he chews on his bottom lip.

there are mostly restaurants here, it seems. some are already closed, some are still lights on. not far away, he hears a karaoke place bursting with music and laughter. he looks up and he finds that the night sky remains barren of stars; there’s no guidance from the heavens that will lead him to you.

except for the sound of your sweet voice calling out his name.

he turns around, and he knows it’s going to sound extremely silly, but damn, you make his life feel like a movie— because you’re jogging towards him, and the universe begins moving in slow motion. perhaps it is to prevent him from falling on his knees in relief, because he genuinely thought that you already went home on your own like the stubborn brat that you are.

“____, where did you go?! you can’t just run off like that! seriously, that was not nice!”

“i forgot my wallet!” you squeal as you halt infront of him, slapping your forehead as a way to scold yourself. “i found a hotteok cart!”

his anger quickly dissipitates. he scans your face, mouth agape in bewilderment.

you, screaming at him to stop the car because there was a sighting of your favorite snack? makes sense.

he dishes out the wallet from his pocket. “wha- i thought you�� you didn’t have money?”

you shake your head to answer his question.

“then how are you already eating?”

you take another bite from the hot hotteok you’re holding in a paper cup, and then you shrug.

“i was already eating when i realized it,” you point at yourself, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “so he let me run back here. does it look like this face would steal?”

“you’re impossible!” he bursts out laughing, the unique sound of his joy harmonizing with the mundane noises of the city.

he is thoroughly amused and in awe of your undeniable charm never failing to work its magic. if you just gave it a shot, you might be even better at him at his job.

you’re pliant as he captures your wrist, tugging you away with him so he can lock the car.

“i bought three, by the way.” you note as the two of you start walking, with you clinging to his side. “the last three then mister can go home.”

you put the hotteok near his mouth, and he pauses to take a big bite. “have you even had dinner?”

“just the four margaritas- they were yummy! or was it five?”

he clicks his tongue in disappointment, but he doesn’t get to say anything more about it because you’ve reached the hotteok cart, and he’s already handing the vendor the money.

“thank you!” he bows his head politely as he accepts the remaining two you mentioned earlier, handing them over to you.

“no, this is yours.” you speak with tenderness, giving back one of the cups to him. “then we’ll split the third one. it’s really good!”

the vendor secretly watches the interaction with a fond smile as he packs up to finally, finally end his long day working at the busy streets of seoul.

—

you’re sat together on the hood of jungkook’s car as you share a midnight snack. with caring hands, you rip the hotteok apart in perfect halves, offering the other to your lover. he accepts it in between his teeth.

“do you want drums as your christmas gift?”

“love,” you search for the words to say as you chew the food in your mouth. “i can barely fit in my apartment. where am i going to put a drum set…? not to mention that i can’t even cry without my neighbor hearing it.”

his shoulders drop in dejection, and you rub your boyfriend’s back in an attempt to comfort him.

“you must really want to see me play, don’t you?”

“i’m dying to,” he says in pure jungkook fashion, tone dramatic and thick with an accent that is entirely his. “i can’t believe there were regulars who saw you every night, while i, your boyfriend, didn’t even see you once…! even that fucking bartender… this- this can’t be right! do you think this makes sense? no, right?”

“aw, my baby,” you coo at him, jutting out your bottom lip as you tenderly cup his face.

“i don’t trust him, by the way,” he scoffs. “as much as possible, stay away from him when you visit, alright…? if i see him touching you one more time, i don’t know what i’ll end up doing to him.”

“i don’t like him either,” you giggle. “so that’s easy.”

he stares at your bloodshot eyes. damn it, you haven’t sobered up.

“____, i’m serious. he’s weird. i’m worried about you but i can’t always be here to protect you.”

you blink at him innocently. “i am too! serious!”

“you promise me?”

“i promise!”

he nods, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he gets lost in the sea of his own thoughts. “i should talk to your friends about this, too. is that okay?”

“if that will ease your mind,” you half-smile, heart fluttering in your chest because you feel so cherished.

comfortable silence follows suit.

the hotteok is still soft and warm and sweet. if your love had to be delivered to his doorstep, it would in the form of your favorite food.

he sighs to gain more of your sympathy, basking in the attention he’s receiving from you. he missed this. he missed you. he sounds like a broken record, but it’s true.

“come ooon, don’t be sad! i’ll make it up to you! but it’s a surprise!”

“surprise?” he eyes you with suspicion. “what surprise?”

“just trust me, alright?”

you poke his cheek where his dimples are, and you witness them pop out as he copies your contagious smile.

“can i make a guess?”

“nope!”

you fit the remaining piece of your hotteok in your mouth, jumping off the hood of the car. you stand before him as you wipe your hands clean with a small paper napkin.

“don’t you dare. if you guess it right then my plans will be ruined!”

—

you’re back on the passenger seat to travel the remaining twenty-seven minutes to your apartment.

jungkook melts into the tenderness of your touch as he drives. you’re tracing the toned muscles of his arms; stroking his hair, his face, and the smell of the sticky brown sugar from the hotteok still lingers on your skin.

“when are you going to start getting tattoos?” you wonder out loud as he intertwines your fingers together on top of his thigh. “i think you’d look so pretty.”

“i’m planning on it.”

his heart skips a beat at the thought of you remembering that he wants his skin artfully inked as you absentmindedly distracted yourself with it.

he licks his lips, smiling as he looks over at you. “you really think so? pretty?”

“hm, hot, too,” you stick your tongue out playfully, and he snorts out a laugh. “but as long as you’re happy, then nothing else matters.”

“of course- wait, yah! you still need to eat dinner.” he reminds you once he recognizes the path you’re taking.

a grocery store is not more than a kilometer away, if his memory serves him right.

“what do you want? i don’t mind cooking.”

“for you to fuck me, that’s what i want. you won’t mind that, too?”

oh my fucking god.

he wishes you were passed out drunk instead so he wouldn’t have to suffer this battle between self-control and his insatiable appetite for you.

“baby, aren’t you still sore from this morning?”

“a little,” he notices you squeezing your thighs together from his peripheral, and along with it, the bruises on your knees from when you worshipped his body last night. “but i want you.”

your giggles in reaction to him frustratedly running his fingers through his hair seems to only fuel the dirty thoughts in his head. he uncomfortably shifts in his seat to adjust himself.

“can you just bring it up when we get near your house? you’re killing me over here!”

“but why? i’m having fun.” you bring your tangled hands over to your side, peppering the back of his hand with innocent kisses. “i love you. you’re so cute.”

“are you… are you seriously calling me cute after what you just asked me to fuck you?”

his disbelief is challenged by your amusement.

“why not? being one dimensional? boring. being different things all at once? sexy.”

jungkook doesn’t need to see you play the drums to know that you are the only one capable of making his heart beat like this. to feel it pounding, it turns out there’s another way besides performing, he can just be alone with you. a different type of addictive exhilaration. he isn’t at the top of the world; he free falls as it revolves around you.

you always know the right words to say, because right now, he is preening. he’s wearing a big smile, the kind that looks like he’s laughing, but he’s not— almost. the kind that reaches his eyes, shapes them into little crescent moons.

how did he get so lucky?

rehearsals in the morning be damned, he will be fucking you good all night.

you make a noise of confusion when the car swerves into the trees at the side of the road.

“what are we doing here?”

jungkook only spares you a glance. “get in the backseat, baby.”

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

[avis-writeshq]

Hi! Can I request track one? :)

Spencer Reid being so shy to ask Fem! Reader out so Morgan flirts with them to push him to do it?:(

pairing: early seasons!spencer reid x bau!fem!reader genre: friends to lovers warnings: not proof read :( a/n: thank you for requesting lovely <3 wc: 700

Spencer isn’t entirely sure why he’s so upset. He’s got his lips drawn to a pout and his eyes are set on the computer in front of him. He chalks it up to the fact that his contact lenses have been drying out. That must be it.

“Stare any harder and you’ll break the screen.”

You’re giggling at his unhappiness, but he doesn’t feel an ounce of annoyance. In moments you’re placing a steaming cup of tea onto his desk with a tiny pitcher of milk, before swiping a few of his files off his pile. 

“You don’t–”

“Hush, Spencer. You probably have filled more overtime hours in the past week than I have in the last four years. Let me take these off of you, okay?” You smile at him before leaning down to murmur into his ear, “They’re probably Morgan’s anyway, so don’t worry about it.”

Spencer flushes, his cheeks warming to a pretty pink at your closeness and he can smell your vanilla perfume. Every thought in his brain vanishes and he’s pretty sure that he won’t be able to think for the next hour or so. His mouth opens and closes like a broken hinge and you walk away to sit at your own desk. 

“When’s the wedding?” Derek asks through a snicker, reaching a hand out and ruffling Spencer’s already unkempt hair. 

“Wh– stop,” Spencer manages weakly, pushing his bangs out of the way and huffing. “Keep your voice down.”

“Didn’t you say that you wanted to ask her to see that Russian film festival or something?” Derek asks, unrelenting. He gestures to the two tickets poking out of one of Spencer’s book. “You already bought them?”

“I won them,” he corrects, scowling. “Stop laughing!”

“Dude, you have to ask her out,” Derek tries again. “Kid, I’m serious. A girl like that isn’t going to wait around forever.”

Spencer’s annoyance is quick to dissipate into flusteredness, and he avoids his friend’s gaze. “She shouldn’t have to.”

“Come on, don’t beat yourself up. Just go talk to her.”

His efforts are in vain as Spencer huffs again and turns back to his paperwork. Morgan shrugs, flexing his arms. It’s far too early to be dealing with Spencer’s shyness and pining. Morgan watches as he sneaks yet another look in your direction, and it takes a lot in him to not throw the two of you together. Emily keeps reminding him to be patient. Penelope keeps informing him that ‘they’ll get together in their own time’. Hotch would spare him a stern look. 

They’re not in the room, though.

“Hey, pretty girl.”

Morgan’s call out is enough for you to raise your head and for Spencer’s face to morph into look of genuine betrayal. He’s frantically moving his hand across his neck as a very obvious sign to cut it out. Morgan pays him no mind.

“What’s up?” You ask brightly, finishing your sentence before turning to look at him. “Did you need something?”

“You’re looking particularly gorgeous today, you know that?” Derek wears a lazy smirk as he looks at you up and down, and you only manage to laugh.

“Ha ha.” You roll your eyes, glancing briefly at Spencer who could have been mistaken for a cherry. “What are you playing at, Morgan?”

The man claps his hands together, rubbing his palms. “Are you free tomorrow night? I’ve got a bottle of wine that has our names on it.”

Spencer looks aghast. He recalls the information on the tickets he had won, and– tomorrow night. That’s when the film festival is happening. 

“She doesn’t drink,” Spencer butts in before you can respond, snatching the tickets from the inside of his book and getting up from his seat to make his way over to you. “I was um– I’ve got these tickets for a film festival tomorrow. It’s in Russian, but I can whisper the translations to you so you understand. You don’t– you don’t have to go. I know it might not be your thing–”

“I’d love to go, Spence.” You smile at him, plucking one of the tickets from his hands. “A whole evening with you? Who wouldn’t enjoy that? Sorry, Derek.”

Derek raises his hands in surrender, and when you aren’t looking, shoots Spencer a thumbs up. Penelope would be proud. 

reblogs are always appreciated !

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[beannoss]

Something I think about a lot and wonder if maybe gets overlooked in Twilight’s story and as vitally indicative of his character is actually in the very first chapter:

Anya isn’t needed for Strix. Twilight decides to adopt her anyway.

[Spoiler warning: Mostly this post deals with early chapters already in the anime but there is reference to chapter 62, which has not yet been animated and will be in season 3]

Twilight decides it — “I’m going to rework the mission so it doesn’t involve a child because that’s too dangerous” and he’s 100% right! Donovan Desmond is canonically a far right warmonger with fascistic authoritarian aims. His government made liberal use of the SSS — a group to mirror the Stasi — who continue to operate in morally dubious ways (much more likely they’re actively morally reprehensible, though we’ve mostly only had rumours of that so far). From what we can tell, Desmond is at best an absent father and likely actually worse than that: if that's how he treats his own children, imagine how he might treat others. And the timeline seems to indicate that the experimentation performed on Anya was done under Desmond's government — even if Twilight isn't aware of experimentation on children, he is aware of both human and animal experimentation under Desmond's government. Taking all that and also the complexity of Strix's aims, undoubtedly there were other things that could be done, more straightforward if not necessarily easier.

So. Why? Why entertain the change at all? And then, having entertained it, why go back when the reasoning is indisputable?

On the Doylist level, I think Endo wanted to ensure that Anya had some agency within the set up — Endo also does this with Yor. It would be much harder to be on Twilight’s side fully, or to trust him on an ethical level/take him as any sort of moral authority, if he were just straightforwardly using these two people. To have them be active and consenting participants (arguably to actually be affirming the arrangement: Twilight sets it up, but Anya and Yor actually make it happen) even if the audience only knows the depth of their knowledge/motivations/etc currently, shifts the power dynamic in important ways.

But it also the set up tells us important things about Twilight. He is largely impatient, cold, detached in chapter one. His overarching feelings towards Anya are, I think, real annoyance, real confusion, and real impatience. He just doesn’t understand this damn kid and it turns out she’s a person which is frankly unacceptable — he’d needed and anticipated an automaton, ideally of himself in miniature form. (Though I think one could ponder whether Twilight was, in many ways, an automaton himself at this point, but that's maybe for another meta 🙃)

He’s not entirely unmoved of course — we're given to understand he’s affected when Franky tells him how many times Anya’s been adopted and returned, and isn't amused by Franky's joke about names. Franky's comment — "Just don't get attached" — reinforces this. The prospect of “the future” perturbs Twilight when he’s reading the parenting books. His initial reaction to Anya’s kidnap is horror. All these are true too.

Then there’s also this, from earlier in the chapter:

It’s exposition, yeah, and it’s also exposing. "Hopes" and "joys" are very specific words to describe those events. It could simply have been "A marriage? An ordinary life?" but describing them as such — hope for marriage; joy in ordinary life — expose something of what Twilight feels about those two experiences and, on the flipside, they expose what he deems he's lacking. No hopes of intimacy; no joy in (an ordinary) life. There's an argument as well, of course, that he's being ironic but I don't think that actually invalidates the above analysis. Drawing attention to 'hope' and 'joy' at all are revealing, regardless of Twilight's tone in thinking of them. I think it's also interesting this panel, taken in conjunction with a pair of panels in chapter 62, Twilight's backstory. The above is almost a pulled out version of this below panel of Twilight's recollection of his childhood, and of course the returning image of not just a rubbish bin but a rubbish bin on fire when it comes to disposing of his identity:

Back to Strix. Both his final interaction with Karen and the whole everything of the framing of Strix is making Twilight think (and feel, ahem) things that he hasn't for some time. Twilight decides, I’m reworking this. It can’t proceed this way. Not because Anya is a pain in his ass, not because she’s not as (apparently) intellectually advanced as he’d originally thought, not even because he thinks he can find another child who would better be exactly what mission parameters called for. No:

And what changes his mind is Anya asking to come home.

One of the important parts of this to me is this:

He seeks consent.

This moment is a keystone, I think, to understanding Twilight. It’s also more telling than he maybe realises. Twilight is decisive — we all laugh because he spirals at the drop of a hat when his daughter or wife look even mildly upset but outside those (also very telling) scenarios, he makes decisions and he pursues them. Often he makes decisions quickly. He’s a dab hand at it; it’s a large part of why he’s as good a spy as he is.

He’d decided to change Strix.

Anya asks him, in essence, not to.

So, he doesn't.

But it's wild that he entertains keeping her request at all — why? Why even entertain it? It’s dangerous; it’s impractical; there are too many moving parts outside his direct control; Anya isn’t the sort of child he’d wanted for the mission if he’d spent any time thinking about what a child might actually be like; Strix is in many ways an extremely long shot anyway, Desmond could just stop attending for reasons unknown and unrelated; etc.

So, yeah, why? Maybe because of this —

In conjunction, I often think of this moment in the cruise arc:

Twilight first naming the feeling as lonesome, and secondly tacitly conceding that he perceives Yor as a companion and that that relationship is important to him, something to be missed. What makes this for me though is that Anya calls this out "Papa's you're so sappy" and Twilight's reaction is that of someone caught-out. He doesn’t say “nuh-uh!” but he may as well have. Essentially, something landed a bit close to home, hm? Maybe some of that hope for marriage? A soupçon of joy of an ordinary life?

Twilight’s loneliness underpins many of his decisions with his family — probably without him being fully conscious of it. I think he is at least somewhat conscious of it, but also if he looks too closely... Well, best not to. I could fill this post, I think, with images that demonstrate his loneliness throughout the series; that sorrowful/pensive close-up of his eye(s) is one of the abiding motifs for Twilight throughout. I'd probably start with this one from Twilight's backstory arc:

Anya's request plays directly off his loneliness. Still though, he doesn’t immediately capitulate — he emphasises Anya’s choice. Is she sure? The last day has been scary for a child (and for him, but he's ignoring that part) and Twilight, in his increasing recognition that Anya is a person, is probably aware in the back of his mind that he hasn’t exactly been warm or welcoming or at all patient with her. Things that people respond to — he's otherwise excellent at manipulating people, so of course he understands this. So. Given she'd just had this scary experience, given he hasn't exactly been great with her: Is she sure? She wants to come home — with him?

I think the moment may get a little lost because Anya says something riffing off his own earlier thoughts and self-revelation (featuring that shadowed, lonely eye motif again!)

Were this a post about Anya, I’d talk about how it’s an important character moment for her as well by way both of demonstrating her agency/choice and also that she isn’t nearly as dumb as Twilight thinks (and the audience, maybe, also thinks).

But in my view, she didn’t actually need to say anything about it making her cry. I think she could simply have said yes in that moment and Twilight would have agreed.

Twilight’s an unreliable narrator; he’s disconnected from his heart and that shrouds his own motivations from himself — something he actually also concedes in this chapter!

And it shrouds from us just how much he actually understands himself. He’s also a master of deflection. Easy to assume or say that bringing Anya home is just to align with Strix. Nothing more to see here; nothing else going on. But also that ripping off of the mask in the panel above — and the literal 'riiip' sound effects — also indicate to us that this is an unveiling to himself.

In my view, Twilight agreeing to Anya's request, deciding to go back to original mission parameters, actually shifts his motivations, subtly. Now he’s committed not only to the original mission goals, but also to Anya. He needs Anya to succeed at Strix, not only for Strix's sake, but also because otherwise the mission will end and she’ll have to go back to the orphanage, and he’s just agreed with her not to do that (not right away, in any case). I don’t think at this point he’s thinking it’s forever — his thoughts throughout the manga indicate he still expects the Forgers to be temporary. I don't think the shift in motivation is necessarily even conscious, but given the set up, I think something inside Twilight recognises that agreeing to bring Anya home is a compact, jointly engaged. Mostly all this has become subsumed into Strix: he makes decisions. He pursues them. He deflects, even from himself. Of course it's just for the mission; this saved him the trouble of reworking it, of figuring out something else. Nothing more to see; no need to think any more on it. And to be fair to him, Strix is very high stakes, resting pretty solely on his shoulders, so of course that is, objectively, motivation enough. Why even consider beyond that?

But I personally think that to the extent he's aware of it at all, there is something else going on, that he wants to have Anya for as long as it takes him to work something else out for her. If that's the case, then of course, we have Occam’s razor: the simplest solution may be the best one.

Maybe Twilight should just keep Anya himself, eh?

[Image description: gif from Spy x Family season 1, episode 1. Twilight and Anya have just found out Anya passed her entrance exam and are overjoyed. Celebratory, Twilight picks Anya up and swoops her into the air as they smile at one another. End image description]

[wikiangela]

you know when you know (I think I do)

rating: G words: 1.4k

[read on Ao3]

___

“So, you and Buck.” Eddie finally gets on the topic he was clearly inching towards the whole evening. Tommy’s lips involuntarily turn up into a smile.

“Yeah. What about us?” He asks, still turned towards the TV, then takes a sip of his beer.

“You guys are, uh, together. Dating.” Eddie fiddles with the label on his beer bottle, sounding a little hesitant and awkward.

“Have been for weeks now.” Tommy nods, smile widening at the mere thought of Evan. He leans his head back against the back of the couch, then turns more towards Eddie. “Any particular reason you’re bringing it up now?”

“Uh, not really. I mean, I’m so happy for you guys, and, uh, it’s none of my business, I just-” He takes a deep breath. Tommy waits, curious about what his friend might have to say. “Listen, Tommy, I don’t wanna be one of these friends who’s all ‘if you hurt him, I’ll kill you’, that’s not me.” Eddie starts, cringing at the words. “Besides, he’s a grown man who’s perfectly capable of taking care of himself.”

“True.” Tommy nods. He can already see where Eddie’s going with it. Tommy finds it sweet how much people in Evan’s life love him and care for him, and are protective of him, but not to a weird or unhealthy degree. He can appreciate that.

“But he’s my best friend.” Eddie continues. “And I just worry.”

“Okay?” Tommy prompts when Eddie falls silent, a frown on his face, like he’s considering his next words.

“He’s been through a lot. In general, but also relationship-wise. I’ve seen only part of it, but I’ve heard it all. And I just- I don’t want him to get hurt again.” 

“I’m not planning to hurt him, Eddie.” Tommy says softly. It’s obvious, and he knows what Eddie meant, but he wants to voice it anyway. He would never, ever, in a million years, do anything that could even remotely hurt his Evan. And if he did so unknowingly, he doesn’t think he’d forgive himself. Evan is such a ray of sunshine, he’s so good and sweet, and genuine, and Tommy would do anything just to keep that radiant smile on his face. 

“I know that.” Eddie shakes his head briefly. “People rarely do. It’s just that, Buck always gives a thousand percent of himself into everything.” A fond smile appears on his face, and Tommy is once again witness to the amazing bond those two have. This kind of friendship is so rare, they’re both so lucky to have each other – and Tommy is lucky to be let into it, even just a little bit. “Once he’s in, he’s in. And, Tommy,” Eddie looks him in the eyes, “Buck is definitely in, all the way, no turning back. He’s falling for you so hard and so fast, and letting all his guards down. Because that’s Buck, that’s what he does. And I just don’t want him to get too deep before you’re ready, before you’re both ready, and I don’t want him to get hurt.”

“I get it.” Tommy nods once, because of course he sees where Eddie’s coming from. “But you have nothing to worry about, Eddie. With Evan…” His lips curl into a smile around the word. “I’m already so far gone.” He shakes his head a little. “I know it’s soon, but I’m really falling for him.” He says quietly, but surely. He’s not used to this, talking about his feelings, about dating, about a person he’s seeing, especially not with someone he’s only known for such a short time. But he and Eddie became fast friends, and he’s Evan’s best friend, and Tommy feels safe enough to say it. He’s also honest and straightforward, and he likes to say it how it is, and this is how it is. He’s falling – or, to be honest, has fallen already – very fast and very hard for Evan Buckley, and he doesn’t feel the need to hide it. Evan is it for him. And he’s going to tell him that soon.

“Good.” Eddie says, tone serious, but a soft smile is forming on his lips. “He’s very lovable. You’d be an idiot to not fall for him.”

“I know.” Tommy grins. From the moment they met, he knew there’s something about Evan, something that pulled him in, got his attention right away. They laughed about it later, after they officially started dating and talked about that whole situation, how Evan put so much effort into trying to get his attention, but he had it anyway, from the start. Tommy was just more subtle about it, and he couldn’t figure out if Evan was flirting that day he gave him the Harbor tour or not. Seems like even Evan didn’t know. He’s so adorable, and kind, and bright and happy like sunshine personified. How was Tommy supposed to take one look at him and not develop a crush, that only seems to keep intensifying the more he gets to know him?

“And, for the record, I don’t want you to get hurt, either. We’re friends, too. Unless you break my best friend’s heart, that is.” He adds, his tone a little teasing, before his smile changes into something fond and genuine. “I’m really happy you guys found each other, truly. I’ve never seen him like this.” He chuckles quietly, shakes his head. “I know we don’t know each other that well yet, but I can already tell you two just make sense. So, take good care of my best friend, Kinard.”

“Of course. I plan on it.” Tommy says, meaning it from the bottom of his heart. 

“Just, not too much PDA when I’m hanging out with you guys, yeah?” He grimaces. “I don’t wanna feel like I’m third-wheeling a boys' night.” He laughs, and so does Tommy.

“Well, I’m not really a big PDA guy anyway.” He shrugs, a smirk tugging at his lips. “But who knows, I can’t really keep my hands to myself around Evan.”

“And it’s time to change the subject,” he shakes his head furiously, “I don’t wanna hear more than I have to. Buck already tells me way too much.” Eddie says quickly, and Tommy laughs again. 

But the subject changes, and their attention is mostly back on the game playing on the TV. They spend the rest of the evening like this, watching sports, drinking beer and chatting. That’s how Evan finds them when he lets himself into Tommy’s house later, since he left the door unlocked.

He walks into the room, says hi to Eddie, then unceremoniously plops down in Tommy’s lap, giving him a long, sweet kiss, smiling into it. Tommy’s free hand circles around his waist, the other still holding his beer.

“Hello to you, too, Evan, how was your day?” Tommy chuckles when they pull away, his nose rubbing against Evan’s. He was spending the day with Jee-Yun, giving Maddie and Howie the day to themselves.

“It was good, we went to the playground, and then to help Bobby and Athena with unpacking, and then had coffee at Hen’s.” Evan grins, his face still so close to Tommy’s he almost looks blurry. “But I missed you so much.” He presses another kiss to Tommy’s lips, which Tommy obviously reciprocates. When he pulls away and glances at Eddie, expecting him to have an amused but annoyed look on his face, or maybe a faux-disgust, but what he finds instead is the fondest, proudest look he’s seen from him, as he looks straight ahead at the TV, giving them a semblance of privacy. Eddie looks just genuinely so happy for his best friend, for both of them. It warms Tommy’s heart. Eddie glances at them, and their eyes meet, and he just rolls his eyes fondly, but is still smiling.

“Okay, baby, I missed you, too, but let’s leave that for later or Eddie won’t want to hang out with us anymore.” Tommy says, and Evan pulls away further, chuckling.

“Eh, we always have each other.” He teases and shrugs, and Eddie scoffs loudly.

“You know I can’t watch basketball with you. Or do Muay Thai.” Tommy raises his eyebrow, giving Evan a knowing look. He can barely watch any sports with Evan, actually, because he never really gets into it, and whenever he gets bored, somehow they end up making out through the whole thing. Evan’s really good at distracting Tommy from just about anything.

“Oh, that’s all you need me for?” Eddie raises his eyebrows. “Fine, then I’ll just leave you two-” he starts getting up, a hint of amusement in his voice.

“Sit down and drink your beer.” Buck laughs, as he climbs off Tommy’s lap and pulls out a phone out of his pocket. Eddie sits back down, laughing as well. “I’m gonna order pizza for dinner. Any preferences?”

[read also on Ao3]

[chiiyuuvv]

understands ★

down bad!nicholas 1.5k words

notes! inspired by song linked in 'notes!' "i'll admit that i'm scared / 'cause i've never really cared as much as this / it's worth the risk" screamed nico so ofc i had to write about it. warning!! this is very delusional, read at your own risk

▸ 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺?

“ta.. da..” nicholas pops out of his hiding place once he hears the rooftop double doors creak open. the huge grin plastered on his face shrinks to a shy smile, suddenly self-conscious now that you were in front of him. “hi..” he mumbles, the back of his neck suddenly itchy from embarrassment. 

“hi,” you breath out in shock, your eyes darting past flustered nicholas to scan the deck he decorated just for you. it seemed unlike his character to put so much care in an objective, a picnic blanket placed in the center of the area with pillows surrounding the perimeter. a speaker was placed to the far left of you, soft rnb echoing from the device. there wasn’t a need for any lights, the cloudless stars being your source to see. 

“do you like it?” nicholas’s voice releases the breath you didn’t even know you were holding, his chest pressed against your back as he drapes his arms around your waist. “i, um.. put a lot of time into it,” his deep chuckle rings in your ear, his chin resting on your shoulder. 

“why?” you turn in his embrace, your eyes widening at the lack of space between you. nicholas looks down at you as you look up, the sparkle in his stare brighter than any star in the sky. if you examine closely, the tips of his ears match his hair, the small smile still adoring his features. 

“you know..” he starts off timid, his voice small as his shoulders do a little shrug. “i just wanted to.. say thank you, for everything,” the way his voice trails off suggests there were more to his reasons, but for now, you nod in acknowledgement at his heartwarming gesture. 

“you didn’t have to,” your voice was as small as his as you pressed your head against his chest. he takes it as a sign to bring you closer, his fresh scent invading your nose.

“i had too,” he defends. you could only chuckle at how persistent the boy was being, especially after the incident. you always found it to be no big deal, unable to realize how much you changed the boys' world.

nicholas was upset.

the joyful cheers of your friends and their video games fade into nothing once the male prances past the living room and into his room, slamming his door with frustration. the commotion makes harua jump in his seat, you and taki sending worrisome looks at each other. “don’t mind him,” euijoo chimes, placing his controller on his lap as he shakes his head. “he just needs some space. anyways, who’s up for another round of mario kart?!” and just like that, the happy energy resumes like nothing happened. 

maybe it was your stubborn attitude telling you to do something after euijoo told you not to, but you found yourself in front of nicholas’s door moments after the boys passed out from their gaming.

“go away,” his voice was raspy compared to the soft knocks on his door.

“i brought some strawberries,” you squeak, still determined to make the male open the door. “i’m sorry if i’m being annoying, i just want to make sure you’re oka–” the door swung open before you could finish your sentence, hair covering nicholas’s sharp eyes as he looked down at you like you were some type of pest.

“if i take the food, would you leave me alone?” he sounded irritated, his words straight to the point.

“actually,” you give an awkward smile, “can i come in?”

nicholas was stressed.

“i feel like i’ve been trapped inside a box filled with impossible accomplishments, yet i have no one to turn to when i need help,” nicholas mutters, his head placed comfortably on your lap. you hum in response, giving him the opportunity to rant his heart out as your fingers comb his hair. “it feels so hard doing everything by myself.”

“who says you’re by yourself?” nicholas perks up at your words, your hands still in his hair as you give him a reassuring smile. “i’m sorry you feel so imprisoned, nico,” you begin, your hand sliding down to cup his cheek. your thumb rubs the skin. “it may not feel like a lot, but you have me to support you.”

“oh,” he breathes, shocked by your words. “thanks.”

nicholas was in love.

“are you good?” you turn your head to the boy in question, your elbow resting against the diner table. nicholas turns to face you with a smirk, jokingly raising an eyebrow. 

“what, i can’t laugh at what my own best friend is saying?” he teases, suddenly glad you were sitting on the same side so he could itch closer to your body. his heart skips a beat when you lean even closer, your noses centimeters from each other. 

“not when our nico sounds so cute!” yudai, the friend you forgot was accompanying you chimes. he leans his chin into his hands on the other side of the table, nicholas snapping his head to the older in annoyance.

“i’m not cute,” he nags, sending yudai a look. the boy only winks in return.

“yeah, you’re right!” you defend, playfully furrowing your brows at yudai as you wrap your arm around nicholas’s shoulder, bringing him closer to you. “you’re my cutie,” you giggle, pinching the boys cheek. unline how he reacted to yudai, nicholas keeps quiet, clearly flustered by your words. 

“but i’m wrong when i say the exact same thing,” yudai bellows, raising his hands in defeat. “favoritism!!” he says, loud enough to get looks from across the restaurant.

…

“you’ve put so much time and effort into me, the very least i can say is thank you,” you appreciated his words, but deep down you knew there was something more to nicholas’s actions. especially since he’s been acting so differently around you. the way his eyes linger onto yours, how his lovesick smiles appear as soon as you enter a room. he makes you feel warm inside, like you were so special to him. 

“you’re welcome but,” you stop to chuckle in disbelief, “no one sets up an entire date to show how grateful they are, nico. seriously, what’s all of this about? you’ve been acting so weird lately,” your fingers trace his jawline as you speak, determined to pry his mind apart.

“because i..” he stops to catch his breath, his heartbeat speeding up when he looks into your eyes. a hand lets go of your waist to interlock the fingers on his face, placing light pecks on the tips. “i’ve never felt like this before,” the boy finally opens up, squeezing your hand. “i never felt so carefree, so loved. you’ve taken me in like i was yours to begin with, you’ve been so sweet, so soft, so inviting. i can be myself without receiving any judgement, i can feel upset without having to be guilty about it. y/n, you help me realize that..”

“that?” you tilt your head, tears welling up at nicholas’s precious words. the boy keeps quiet, his nervousness getting the better of him. he feels as if he doesn’t deserve one drop of your undivided attention. you were an angel that flew from heaven who constantly put a smile on an unorganized guy like him. you had a life, yet you put it on pause to help regulate nicholas. all those late night calls filled with encouragement when you could have turned off your phone and went to bed, he didn’t know what it was that made him worthy of you. you were too good for him. 

he must do something to show how much he appreciates you, right? even if that meant rehearsing his confession for hours in front of a mirror after he got home from work, or turning his rooftop into something you’ve always dreamt about. although he was scared, he still thought you were worth the risk.

his eyes stay glued to yours as you stand in the tense silence. his heart speeds up again because god, you were so pretty. he hates that he’s come to this realization now. in a swift movement, his hands let go of your body to gently cup your cheeks, lifting your chin so now he had a straight shot at your lips. 

he licks his own in anticipation, your presence making his mind go blank, your soft breath erasing all the doubts in his head. he lets out a sigh before connecting your lips in a feverishly slow pace, his figure being sent to a world of bliss as your mouths move against each others. he starts to feel dizzy when you grip his shirt, pulling him closer like you were going to lose him if you didn’t. words couldn’t never express the amount of love you had for each other. 

letting go of your lips, his hands circle around your waist again, ducking his head to kiss the salty tears from your face. if it weren’t for your soft giggle, you would have heard the boy sniffle. he pushes your foreheads together, closing his eyes in bliss.

“you’re the only one who understands.”

︴bonus! kinda got carried away, anyways i hope you enjoyed hehe

▸ taglist 📬 @cherrycolaberry , @wtfisgoingright . @slytherinshua , @luvnicho , @enhacolor , @lakoya

🎬 navi

@chiiyuuvv on tumblr . do not steal works/headers/line dividers

[berry-potchy]

Indulge Me

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x f!reader Rating: Explicit (18+ only please) Word Count: 7,072 Summary: You're a Spiderwoman who has ended up pinned underneath Miguel O'Hara in his lab one too many times. You're not sure what you are to him or what to call your relationship. And that would've been fine until your neediness kicked in and made you catch feelings. Surely, Miguel taking you to his room for the first time means something right? In which your lack of understanding of Spanish and denial of the hints Miguel drops are keeping you from realizing you already have what you want. Tags/warnings: pwp, p in v sex, rough sex, praise + light degradation, multiple orgasms and overstimulation, face sitting/riding, breeding kink, soft dom!Miguel, needy reader, recording, mirror sex adjacent, implied chubby reader, undefined relationship but soft feelings sprinkled in there as a treat, no use of y/n so lots of Spanish nicknames to make up for it, reader does not understand Spanish, brief sexy use of spider webs A/N: this is quite literally just a self-indulgent fic with most of my favorite Miguel x reader flavors. Not beta read but I hope you still enjoy it! (Translations are the end!)

Also on AO3

Edit: turns out some parts got messed up while I was posting here on Tumblr D: it's fine on AO3 though which is weird because I copied from this post instead of my doc because this has the correct spacing. Everything should be fixed now.

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Miguel has you standing in front of him between his parted legs as he sits on the edge of his bed. Even in this position, you were barely any much taller than him, only needing to tilt your head a bit to meet his red eyes. He looks at you from your face, down to the swell of your breast where his eyes are joined by a taloned finger on its journey downwards. You can’t help but let out a soft sigh as the sharp talon cuts through your spandex suit, fully exposing your soft chest to the cold air of his quarters. He would argue that the stretchy translucent mesh with a spiderweb lace design on your chest area didn’t do shit to cover the fullness of your tits anyway so he didn't understand why you even bothered with it. It was for style obviously but riling up Miguel O’Hara was a great bonus. You let out a shaky breath as he continued further down until he stopped right below your navel.

“Que linda,” he says in that low sexy voice of his, very different from the usual grumpy tone he uses to chastise you. He snakes his arms around your hips, bringing you closer to him and his hands find your plush bottom, giving them a rough squeeze. You are getting so worked up by how much attention you are getting from your usually sulky boss. Your heaving chest is right in front of Miguel’s face and his lustful gaze almost feels like it is burning you. The heat spreads from your chest downwards until it pools in the pit of your stomach and between your legs.

“You ruined my suit,” you pout, not really that upset about it. You think it was hot honestly but you just want to tease him “Am I supposed to go on missions with my whole chest out now? Walk around the HQ flashing everyone?”

“Of course not,” he says, rolling his eyes. He continues to take in your figure, hands gently kneading soft flesh on your sides “I���m making you a new suit. Should be done very soon. It'll be the same design but it will offer far more protection than this flimsy thing.”

“Making me a suit just like yours? What so you can control it hm? Deactivate it whenever you want to fuck me?” You laugh, wiping the imaginary tear in your eye until you realize Miguel is silent and looks like he’s been caught red-handed. You lightly slap him on his arm, flustered. “You’re a pervert, you know that?”

Instead of answering you, he brings his head forward to close his lips on a clothed nipple, his tongue flicking the sensitive erect bud. Your mouth opens as you let out a soft gasp at the sensation and you can feel the corner of Miguel’s lips twitch into a slight smirk. He teases your nipple alternating between flicking it with the tip of his tongue and giving it an audible suck. He pulls away for a split second only to give the same attention to your other nipple. You weave your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer to your tits. Your other hand is holding onto his shoulder for support as you urge him to keep going with your whimpers. His hands haven’t stopped exploring your body. His wide hands warm against your hips, ass, thighs, everywhere he can touch, squeezing your softness, committing every curve to memory.

“Migueeeel,” you whine, rubbing your thighs together to try to relieve the ache between your legs. You appreciate the attention to your nipples but your cunt was throbbing with need. You are so close to ripping the rest of your suit and panties off because the way the fabric is sticking to your wet pussy is becoming too uncomfortable.

“Miguel what, muñeca?” He pulls away, licking his lips. Those red eyes are now looking straight into yours and you feel yourself shiver. You try to look away but Miguel grabs your chin to keep you facing him. “Eyes on me. What do you want? Use your words.”

“Please,” your cheeks burn in embarrassment but Miguel just raised an eyebrow at you, unamused. “Stop teasing please.”

“Ah I see okay,” he says, taking his hands off you before standing up and walking to his closet.

“W-wait what are you doing?” you almost trip on your feet, knees feeling weak, as you chase after him. You grab his arm, tugging at it to get his attention as you pathetically look up at him.

“You said stop teasing so I’m getting you a shirt so you can go back to your world and get some rest,” he says as he looks through the neatly folded shirts in his closet. He’s stalling, pretending he was trying to choose one but he’s messing with you. There is no way he would let you go home tonight without getting at least a couple of orgasms wrung out of you. You aren’t leaving until he made sure you were stuffed full and dripping with his cum. You aren’t leaving tonight. Period. He knew you were too far gone with lust to figure that out yourself.

“Miggy, that’s not what I meant please,” you sob, pressing your body against him. Just the thought of being left unsatisfied was painful. “Please, Miggy, I need your mouth. And your cock please”

He finally looks at you and pulls you closer to him by your waist. You run your hands along his still clothed chest, feeling his heart beating with yours. You look up at him with glassy eyes, begging him to finish what he started. He coos at how desperate you were for release.

“You want my mouth and my cock?” he hums, still teasing. He easily lifts you up with one arm supporting your ass to carry you back to his bed. He’s carried you multiple times before but it never ceases to amaze you how he does it so effortlessly. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, hips bucking trying to get some friction against your still unfortunately clothed cunt. “Where do you want them, muñeca? You have to be more specific. Which one do you want first?”

“On my pussy, please. I need your mouth on my pussy. Miggy, I wanna cum on your face” you sobbed against his neck “And then- and then I want you to fuck me. I want you to fill me up with your cock. Only you can fill me up so good, Miggy. I need it.”

“Good girl,” he whispers right next to your ear, making you shudder “Now, was that so hard to do? Was it hard to tell me what you wanted?”

“Yes!” you bite his shoulder and you feel satisfaction when you hear him break character and snort. He shakes his head, smiling fondly while he sets you down on the bed.

"Qué voy a hacer contigo?" he brings his lips to your temple to whisper more softly "Qué haría sin ti?"

Your heart skips a beat at the gentleness of his tone. You’re not sure what he said but the genuine affection is evident. Intimate moments like this with Miguel are slowly becoming more and more frequent and you decide that you don’t mind it. You even crave it now. A satisfied sigh leaves your lips as you lean further toward him.

He pulls away but the fond look on his face doesn’t waver. He slaps your thigh, making the soft fat jiggle just how he likes it, as he moves to get settled in his bed.

“Put those lovely hips and thighs to use and ride my face, conejita.” He lies down, anticipating, patting his chest to encourage you to sit down.

You didn't need to be told twice. You rip off the rest of your suit, your heated skin meeting the cold air of his room making your nipples pebble painfully. You quickly take off your panties and toss them aside with your ruined suit. You squeal as you scramble to get on top of him. You position yourself on top of his waiting mouth, straddling his face but just hovering over his face, hands on the headboard to keep yourself steady. The smell of your arousal is almost too much for Miguel to bear at this proximity. The urge to lock you in his room for the next few days and not let you out until you’re thoroughly fucked and bred is getting hard to ignore. His fangs extend as his animalistic urges surface, yearning to bite you and mark you as his.

“Are you trying to tease me now? How can you ride my face if you don’t sit?” Miguel’s tone is deeper than it was just a second ago. There’s a certain roughness to it, a growl in his voice that makes your hole clench around nothing. He grips your thighs, fingers digging into the soft flesh, waiting for you to sit down or he’ll make you. He’s trying to be patient, turning his head a little to mouth at the fat of your inner thigh. He licks a stray trail of your slick up your thigh, stopping just a breath away from where you both want his mouth to be. You feel him sigh, savoring your taste like he just drank the finest nectar, a promise of what’s to come.

“But Miguel–” you yelp when he suddenly pulls you down by your thighs and you immediately feel his tongue lapping at your aching cunt, his nose bumping deliciously against your swollen clit. He wasn’t going to hear your excuses. The only things he wants to hear coming out of your pretty lips are your moans and whines for more. The way Miguel is sucking and devouring your wetness so eagerly makes your head spin and your grip on the headboard tighten to steady yourself for a moment. He teases your hole, licking around the small opening before plunging in as far as he can, feeling you clench around his tongue. He grows impatient at your lack of movement and starts rocking you back and forth on his face by himself. He flattens his tongue for you to grind your pretty folds onto.

“Miggy, feels so good,” you whine, bending over to look at him from under you. He’s so pretty like this, forehead scrunched up from how focused he is eating you out, and when you get a peak of his nose and his cheeks, they’re shiny from being soaked by a combination of your wetness and his own spit. You take one of your shaking hands off the headboard to brush the hair away from Miguel’s forehead only for him to guide your hand into a fist, grabbing his hair, urging you to use it as leverage to ride his face harder. And who are you to say no to that?

You move your hips to try to match the pace he set for you, your thighs burn but you pay it no mind. Not when you feel that familiar delicious knot forming in your core. Your head lolls to the side and your eyes screwed shut as you immerse in the pleasure, grinding your cunt harder on Miguel’s tongue, nose, chin, anywhere you can get some friction, getting desperate to reach your orgasm.

“‘M gonna cum, Miggy. Gonn’ cum on your face” you whimper. You take your hand off the headboard and bring it to your tits, squeezing them, pinching at rubbing circles on your pebbled nipples. Miguel doesn’t stop lapping hungrily at your pussy, shaking his head from side to side as much as your grip on his hair allows. He groans as he watches in awe as you chase your own pleasure.

So close.

You’re so close you swear you can almost taste it.

Miguel could tell from how your hips stuttered and your pace growing frantic, rougher. He gives your clit another suck and that finally pushes you over the edge.

You feel the sweet release consume you like wildfire, your body tensing, back arching, toes curling. You can’t even hear yourself scream Miguel’s name, curling into yourself as he continues to suck on your oversensitive, pulsating clit. His hands held your shaking thighs steady, not letting you close them. It’s all too much.

“Miggyyy,” you sob pathetically, pawing at his head and his grip on you. You finally manage to pry an eye open only to see him watching you intently “Too much. I can’t-”

He doesn’t stop. He continues to lick stripes at your puffy folds and flick the sensitive bud with the tip of his tongue albeit slower this time. He takes one of his hands away from your thigh and plunges two of his thick fingers knuckle deep inside your needy hole. He manages to find your sweet cushiony spot and puts enough pressure on it to make you see stars. That burning hot coil is back just mere seconds after your climax and if you could think at that moment, you’d think it’s unfair how he seems to know your body too well, knows just where to touch to make you unravel.

He adds another finger into your cunt, stretching you out for his cock, curling them inside you, and hitting your sweet spot over and over again. You know that it’s not enough, that it’s nothing compared to what’s coming for you. No matter how much prep you do it's going to be a tight fit and you can’t wait to be stretched to your limits once more. You stop fighting him, needing to chase after your orgasm, grinding your clit again on his tongue as he pumps his fingers in and out of your slutty hole.

Soon enough, you feel your second orgasm wash over you. You spill over his face, making a mess on his pillows and bedsheets. Your limbs go numb and this time you can’t even form words, just sobbing, babbling nonsense as your body shakes on top of Miguel. You would’ve fallen over if it wasn't for Miguel supporting your back with his free hand. You frantically tap his hand as you hiccup a pathetic “no more.”

Miguel relents and lets you catch your breath for a second. He kisses your puffy cunt one more time before moving you to lie on your back on the bed. He lifts your head to turn over the soiled pillow and fluff it up before getting you settled comfortably. You watch as he catches the dripping wetness from his chin with his equally soaked fingers and sticks them into his mouth, eyes rolling back and moaning at your sweet taste. You feel your cunt throb at the lewd action and you can’t help but let out a needy whimper from the back of your throat. It’s so unfair how much he affects you.

“Ay, pobrecita,” he coos at your flushed face with fat tears running down your cheeks as he nudges your legs apart with his knee and settles between your parted legs. “too much for mi conejita to handle? I know you can take more. Your pussy is so slutty, isn’t she? So needy. I doubt two orgasms is enough.”

He cups your face with one hand, thumb wiping away a tear on your cheek, his other hand brushing your hair away from your face, knowing how much you hate the feeling of it sticking to your skin. Your lower lip is jutting out in an adorable pout that he can’t help but kiss, catching your lip between his teeth. You scrunch up your nose and push his face away as you try to steady your breath.

You can see his naked chest rise and fall faster than usual, his mouth open to catch his own breath. You didn’t even notice when he disabled his suit but your eyes are thankful as you drink in the sight of his warm brown skin, stretching across the expanse of his unfairly defined body. He looks like he was sculpted by the gods themselves, taking extra care to give him the most perfect proportions. How lucky are you to see this masterpiece up close? It would be a sin to not enjoy the view.

Your eyes trail down from his strong broad shoulders to his massive tits, and even further down to see his cock standing up proudly against his navel, the head dripping beads of precum and smearing it against his abs. Pride blooms in your chest as you realize that he’s just as affected as you are.

Your throat suddenly feels so empty. You lick your lips as you tear your eyes off his cock to look up at his face only to find his hungry gaze meeting yours. His eyes glint with danger as he takes in the sight of you in your post-orgasm haze, seemingly plotting his next move.

You didn’t have to wait long because, of course, he can’t keep his hands away from you.

He moves closer, making you spread your legs further. His hands grab at the back of your thighs to push them towards your torso, your knees almost touching your chest. Your dripping cunt twitches as it’s exposed to the cold air. Your hole clenching on nothing, begging to be filled.

“Que rico. Podría acostumbrarme a esto,” he says, his voice deep and rough with lust as his hands rub up and down your thighs, squeezing, feeling you. He drinks up the sight of you, so bare and exposed, all for him to take. “I could watch you like this all day. Maybe take a video of you right now so I can watch your pretty cunt pulsing, crying for me, anytime I want. Or…”

He takes his cock in one hand, running his thumb on the swollen tip to spread the beads of precum around, pumping his shaft with a few languid strokes. You yelp when he slaps his thick, heavy cock against your puffy folds.

“I could tie you up like this and keep you here for my own pleasure.” He starts moving his hips at a torturously slow pace, sliding his length along your wet folds, getting it lubricated by your own slick. He brings his hands back to your thighs and pushes them even further until you’re practically folded in half. “Keep you here to breed. Fill you up with so much cum and you’ll stay like this so it will surely take, yeah?”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Miggy” you hiss as the tip of his cock keeps bumping into your throbbing clit “What’s stopping you from doing so huh? You have your web and your little surveillance bots. Put them to good use.”

“Of course, you’d love that, my pretty little slut,” he chuckles, shaking his head as he lines up the tip of his cock with your hole. Your eyelids flutter as you hold your breath in anticipation, waiting for that delicious stretch of being filled by his massive cock.

“Eyes on me, cariño,” he commands and you obey, looking up at him from under your lashes “That’s it, good girl.”

He starts to slowly press his cock into your greedy hole. Inch by inch, he sinks in, knocking the air out of your lungs. Midway, maybe, you can’t tell, there’s just so much of him, you start to feel a little faint, your shoulders tense and your mouth stuck hanging open. You feel so full of him, almost like he’s going to split you apart.

“Breathe for me,” he coos as he slowly presses more of him into you, filling you up more than what should be possible. He drapes your legs over his shoulders, his chest pressing against the back of your thighs as he uses his now free hands to cradle your face. You suck in a breath as he instructed and try to even out your breathing. “There you go. Keep breathing. Relax for me. Thaaat’s it. My sweet girl. So good for me.”

You preen at his words, warmth flooding your chest and going straight down to your pussy. His hands stay on your cheeks, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your skin as he pushes the last few inches in. You put your hands on top of his as you lean into his touch. He starts to grind his hips slowly, gently, getting you used to his size. The coarse dark curls at the base of his cock tickle your sensitive clit and the head of his cock softly probing at your cervix makes you roll your eyes back and whimper from the fullness.

“Eres tan hermosa. No sabes lo que me haces, cariño,” he leans in to capture your lips into a deep kiss. Soft and gentle until both of you wanted more. One of his hands finds the back of your neck to tilt your head as he pleases as he tries to devour you. His tongue licks into your mouth and his fangs graze your lips with every movement. You hum against his lips as you feel him start to pull his hips back, letting his dick slide halfway out before snapping his hips forward to plunge himself back inside, his balls lewdly smacking against your ass. And he keeps doing it over, and over again making you moan oh so wantonly.

“Estás tan rica. Estás hecha para mí, mi amor,” he whispers against your lips. The breathlessness and the hint of desperation for release in his voice make you shiver. His pace picks up, thrusts growing rougher with it. The wet sounds of him sliding in and out of you and skin slapping against skin echo around his room. The only other sounds you can hear are your combined sounds of pleasure, calling out each other’s names.

You pull on the hand that Miguel has on your cheek to lace your fingers together, his large hand easily dwarfing yours, his talons folded back to not hurt you. Your other hand slips between your bodies, travelling downwards to feel where you two are connected. There’s a deep rumble coming from Miguel’s chest and he presses your sweaty foreheads together, looking at you through half-lidded eyes. Your tight heat is milking his cock so perfectly and at this rate, he’s not going to last long.

“Miggy,” you whine, keeping your eyes on his. His irises seem a little more brown as he looks at you so tenderly, making you feel like you are going to melt into a puddle of goo. He brings your joined hands to his lips to kiss your knuckles and you think you really just might turn into goo.

His thrusts get messier and more frantic You feel the familiar coil building up in your stomach. You lift your hand from between your legs to press firmly against the area below your navel and the sensation is electrifying. You can feel his cock pistoning in and out of you from where you are touching. You can feel him rearranging your insides, molding your pussy to accommodate him and only him, ruining you for anyone else.

“Mi niña hermosa, mi niña linda. Mía. Toda mía.” he moans into your ear, almost whiney and you know he’s near the edge. He starts peppering kisses on your neck, licking, sucking, grazing the sensitive skin with his fangs but not sinking them in yet. He takes the hand you aren’t holding to rest on your hand on your lower stomach. His thumb reaches further down to stroke your clit earning him a shaky whine from you.

“Cum for me again, hermosa,” he lifts his head to look at your flushed face. You’re sure you look like a mess but to him, you’re more beautiful than the brightest twinkling stars on a clear night sky. “Let me see your pretty face when you cum.”

And with that, you’re gone, pushed over the edge, screaming his name, squirting clear liquid up to his chest. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, your hold on his hand tightens, and your legs on his shoulders shake and flail from another intense orgasm. There’s ringing in your ears but you faintly hear him cooing at you, whispering sweet words you can’t quite understand.

Miguel is still fucking into you with messy, frantic thrusts and ragged breaths but it doesn’t take long for him to follow, not when your velvety walls are pulsing, contracting on his dick. He puts a large hand on the space beside your head for support, his claws tearing through the pillowcase, as he drives his hips into yours a few more times before spilling inside you with a deep growl. He paints your insides with his cum as he rides his high with a few more shallow thrusts. You clench around him trying to squeeze as much cum out of him with your tight hole and he whimpers your name.

Both of you pant in unison, trying to catch your breath after that life-altering orgasm together. You turn your head to the side to kiss the inside of Miguel's wrist next to your head. Miguel doesn’t want to move. Everything is too perfect at that moment. You’re perfect.

But he has more plans for you tonight.

He takes your legs off his shoulders to wrap around his waist as he adjusts the both of you so he can lay down comfortably on top of you, putting most of his weight on his elbows on the bed. His dick still plugged in your hole, keeping his seed inside and refusing to part with your tight heat.

“Miggy,” you softly call him, looking at his relaxed face resting on your shoulder, eyes closed.

“Hm?”

“... pull out.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“Fine, but only because I want to,” he grumbles, clearly not wanting to pull out. He gets on his knees again so he can at least watch your sloppy hole fluttering as he slowly pulls out. A thick milky ring of your combined fluid sits at the base of his cock. His eyes darken as he sees your cunt trying to clench at air and his cum starts to drip out of you. He can’t have that. He collects the trail of cum with his fingers so he can stuff them back inside of you.

“Miggy, come back here,” you pull at his hand and when he doesn’t budge, you add “You can just cum inside me more later. I need cuddles.”

That gets him to leave your fucked out hole alone. For now. Miguel kisses your stomach up to the valley between your breasts to your neck and lingers on your lips. He goes back to his earlier position on top of you. You drape your arms around his neck as you hum in contentment against the kiss. He smiles and moves to mouth at your sensitive neck, planting soft kisses, licking and sucking as he moans and pants in your ear.

“Miggy, I’m sleepy now,” you turn to look at him. You know what he’s doing. You know that he’s trying to turn you on again. And it’s working.

“You can do one more, mami. One more for me,” he says. He’s almost pouting, almost begging “You said I can cum in you again.”

“I didn’t mean right away. I just came three times already” you whined wrapping your arms around his broad chest. you want to feel him close.

“Mmm, you can cum four times. Maybe more because you’re such a needy little whore,” he murmurs into your neck, not stopping his ministrations. “My cum slut who loves being bred. We’re not going to end the night without your tummy full of cum I promise you that, cariño.”

You roll your eyes at him but you don't push him away and instead start playing with the short curly hairs at the back of his neck, ignoring the way your pussy shivered at his perverted words. You find comfort in his warmth and weight on top of you. You inhale his familiar deep masculine scent and it almost lulls you to sleep until you feel something wet and hard poking at your thigh.

“How are you hard again?” you say in disbelief as you look down and sure enough, Miguel’s dick is erect and ready to go for another round.

“It’s been a while since we had sex and my hand could only do so much to make up for your absence, cariño,” he huffs as gets up on his knees to turn you over and slap your ass. The sound of his palm meeting the sticky wet skin of your ass is undeniably lewd. “And what about needing to get you pregnant does not make sense to you? Get on your hands and knees for me. That baby is not gonna make itself.”

You plant your knees on the mattress and present your ass to him but you don't bother to lift your upper body from the bed. You keep your face down against the softness of his pillows. You didn't want him to see the giddy smile on your face from hearing that he hasn't slept with anyone else. His cum starts dripping out of your hole, coating your clit with creamy white and Miguel almost cums again on the spot.

“Don’t make me repeat myself.” His large hands grab at your ass, kneading them. His thumbs spread your puffy lips apart so he can watch your cunt try to keep his cum inside. You groan as you force your arms to lift you up. “There’s my good girl.”

He smacks your ass which earned him a yelp from you. His lips curl up as he watches the flesh of your ass jiggle from the impact.

“Get on with it,” you whine, wiggling your ass to entice him to move faster. For someone who wanted to stop at the third round, you sure are impatient to be filled again.

“You are going to be the death of me,” he chuckles as he guides his cock back inside your wet heat. “There you go, mami. Back where it belongs.”

You moan loudly as you feel him grinding his hips, driving his dick as deep as he can reach inside you. Your eyes flutter close, as you savor the stretch of your hole around his fat cock once more. You couldn’t agree more with his words.

You hear Miguel from behind you input a command on a device. It beeps obnoxiously like it’s mocking you. It’s the last thing you want to hear while he is balls deep inside you, his girthy cock stretching you deliciously and filling you up so good. You think to yourself what was so important that Miguel can't put his gizmo down and enjoy the feeling of your warm, tight pussy on his dick? Right after insisting you can go for one more round?

You are about to snap at him for being ungrateful until a hologram appears in front of you. It shows a live video feed of his very own bed and a clear view of your fully naked self on your hands and knees getting ur insides rearranged by your boss. Your hair is a mess and your makeup is all smudged from how he made you cry from all the begging and overstimulation earlier. And he looks so big compared to you, having to bend low to align his hips with yours. You didn't even notice the recording devices planted around the room until now from how your brain was so fogged by lust. There seem to be at least three around the room from different angles. Well, it turns out he wasn’t just bluffing when he said he could record you earlier.

You wonder if he always had those set up. You haven’t really been to his room before. The few “encounters” you had with Miguel happened in his laboratory on his silly little platform, both of you too consumed by lust to think about moving to a more private area. It’s rather unlikely that they’re for actual safety reasons when they all just record the same area. You entertain the idea that him taking you to his room tonight is not just a spur-of-the-moment thing, that he might have all of this set up for tonight for when he has you writhing in pleasure on his bed. How thoughtful, you think. It makes you clench around his dick.

"You really are a pervert," you quip to annoy him. Clearly, the urge to mess with him hasn’t been thoroughly fucked out of you yet. You didn't even get to laugh at your own childish remark when Miguel abruptly starts thrusting his hips without warning, harder this time, dragging out a surprised whimper from you. His tip is bullying your cervix, testing the line between pleasure and pain but you love it. Your eyes meet Miguel's intense red glare on the screen.

"You're still talking," he tuts, his head shaking like he's some kind of pet owner trying to reprimand a disobedient pet "Let me fix that, cariño.”

He brings his large calloused hands back on you – where they belong, you think to yourself, echoing Miguel’s words. His left hand is firm on the flesh of your waist, you are sure they are going to bruise once he’s done with you. His other hand fondles your breasts, the sharp talons on his fingertips lightly grazing your soft skin. You know that when you look at yourself in the mirror tomorrow morning you’d look like you barely got away from being mauled by a feral beast, evidence of how Miguel O'Hara had his way with you and how you enjoyed every single second of it.

You cry out his name, chanting it like a prayer. He’s so deep inside you that you can almost feel him in your chest, his thrusts fucking the air out of your lungs.

“Miggy, Mi…. Mig– ah, ah Mi– haaaa –guel ahhh”

Your eyes roll back at the continuous assault on your sweet spot and your cervix with every deep thrust. High-pitched whines come out of your throat as your arms give out from under you, making you fall face-first on the soft mattress. It all feels so good but overwhelming. You think you’re going to pass out.

“Que rico, mami,” he pulls your hair so you can face the screens. “Look at yourself. Beautiful. Taking my cock so well. Don’t worry. I have this all recorded if you’re too cock drunk to watch yourself now, cariño.”

You can't say anything back. You try really hard to come up with something but the only word that comes out of your mouth is “please” over and over again becoming progressively needier each time. He wraps his arm around your waist to pull you closer to him, his chest flushed against your back, allowing him to rock you back against his forceful thrusts.

“Gonn’ make sure I put a baby in you tonight, cariño,” he growls in your ear. “I can’t wait to see your tummy swell in a few months. You’ll look divine, I won't be able to take my hands off you even more.”

His eyes are back to a glowing red as they meet yours that are glazed over by tears and lust. His hand tightens his hold on your hair making you tilt your head further, exposing more of your neck for him to suck bruises on. Your tits are bouncing freely at his aggressive pace. Coupled with the high-pitched moans coming out of your mouth, it’s all so pornographic. It makes you feel like liquid fire is running through your veins and pooling into your stomach.

“You’re gonna cum for me? Let go. Come on. cum for me, mami,”Miguel grunts in your ear, his hand on your hair letting go so he can greedily grab at your tits. “I wanna feel your cunt pulsing on my cock. Can you do that for me? Of course, you can. Going to milk me dry.”

And just like that, you throw your head back on his shoulder, eyes screwing shut as another wave of orgasm crashes down on you. Miguel follows closely, filling you up with more cum that drips down your thighs and on the bedsheets. Your body slumps back against his, too tired to keep yourself upright. You don’t even have the energy to open your eyes, content with feeling Miguel’s warm body against yours.

“I got you,” he says, wrapping his arms around you and moving you to lie down on the bed. You hum in contentment, letting him care for your tired body. He bends down to plant a kiss on your forehead before he pulls away. You miss his touch already.

A beeping sound lets you know that he turned off the monitors. You feel him taking the soiled bedsheets, getting up from the bed to get fresh ones. You have half the mind to reach out to him and tell him he can clean up later so you can cuddle now. Your mouth, however, doesn’t want to move so instead you groan as you blindly reach your hands out.

Miguel chuckles at your antics, walking back with fresh sheets and a damp towel to wipe off the sticky mess from your body. He sits next to you on the bed and brings the towel to your tear-stained cheeks, gently dabbing the area around your eyes to get rid of the messed up traces of mascara and eyeliner. You take your hand to rest on your chest trying to calm your wildly beating heart.

The comfortable silence, unfortunately, doesn’t last long. You hear the unmistakable voice of Lyla cut through the air.

“Heeeey, bossman! Heeeey, girlie!” she drawls and your eyes snap open as you snatch the sheet from Miguel’s hands to cover yourself.

“Ay, coño! I thought I said no alerts tonight,” Miguel looks pissed, rubbing his face in frustration before moving to turn off his watch. “It can wait until tomorrow.”

“Wait, wait! Sorry to interrupt the big night, Miguel, but it’s an emergency. Trust me you’ll want to fix this now,” Lyla raises her hands in surrender before Miguel presses a button. She turns to you, looking apologetic and asking for help “Then you can go back to babymaking, right, dollface?”

“I–” you flush, choking on your own words. You begrudgingly turn to Miguel, your lower lip caught in between your teeth. You lower your eyes as an ugly feeling crawls up your chest.

“It sounds important. You should go,” you whisper, not trusting your voice to speak up any louder. “I’d say I can be back up but I can hardly move so you’re on your own, big guy.”

Miguel sighs and gets up, telling Lyla to send him the information and that it better be worth his time.

You are already sexually satisfied and tired – that’s what four orgasms could do to you – but you are a little upset and sulky that Miguel has to be called in for work right now. Stupid anomaly or whatever it is. It’s probably important and a universe out there might be in grave danger. But you can't help feeling like shit about it though.

You like how soft Miguel gets when he cleans you up after sex. You like it when he picks up your tired form and whispers soft words to you in Spanish. Plus, you were looking forward to cuddles. What’s the use of having sex in his room on his bed if not to cuddle afterward and wake up next to each other the next day? And then, suddenly, in the early morning light, realize that you’ve been madly in love with each other all along. Okay, you are more than just a little upset.

Miguel notices you pouting and your eyes getting glassy with tears as you try to roll off the bed. He shoots his glowing red web at you, trapping you where you are before going back to readjusting his watch.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks, walking back to the bed as he makes sure his suit is all good and ready for the mission. He kneels on the bed to drag you to lie on your back.

“What are you doing? I'm going to take a shower,” you sniffle trying to avoid his eyes “I’ll take care of myself. you should go”

He hums as he takes both your wrists in one hand and forces them above your head to secure them together with his webs.

“Miggy?” you look at him and there’s a spark of mischief in his eyes. He darts his tongue across his lower lip and you feel a shiver run up your spine.

He doesn’t respond. He only keeps looking at you like he’s going to devour you once more. He brings your legs up to the position he had in before, knees to your chest, cunt fully exposed to him. You blush and your heart starts pounding in your chest. He shoots out more of his web, making sure you’re comfortable and your legs are securely tied in that position.

“Good?” he whispers and you nod in response “Words, cariño.”

“Perfect,” you moan, your chest heaving with need. He smiles at you fondly, caressing your cheek with a curled finger, and plants chaste kisses on your temple, your nose, and the corner of your mouth until he reaches your lips. He hums in contentment as he savors the feel of your lips against his. Then, he pulls away reluctantly and puts on his mask. He sets his watch to the right coordinates opening up a portal to wherever the universe needs saving.

“I’ll be back as fast as I can. I’ll make sure that anomaly regrets ever being made for interrupting my plans for our night,” he grumbles and gives you one last kiss through his mask for good luck. “And then it’s going to be all about you for the rest of the night, hm? I promise.”

He walks into the portal backwards so he can look at you until it closes and takes him away. Your heart flutters in your chest, anticipating what’s to come as you feel the webs digging deliciously into your soft flesh.

•🕷️────✧˖°˖🕸️˖°˖✧────🕷️•

Translations:

Que linda - how pretty

muñeca - doll

cariño - dear/darling

Qué voy a hacer contigo? - What am I going to do with you?

Qué haría sin ti? - What am I going to do without you?

conejita - little rabbit

pobrecita - poor thing

que rico - “[you] look good” (literal: tastes good)

Podría acostumbrarme a esto - I could get used to this

Eres tan hermosa. No sabes lo que me haces - You're so beautiful. You don't know what you do to me

Estás tan rica. Estás hecha para mí, mi amor - You feel so good. You were made for me, my love

Mi niña hermosa, mi niña linda. Mía. Toda mía. - My beautiful girl, my sweet girl. Mine. All mine.

mami - mommy (as an endearment for a partner)

coño - pussy

A/N: so many thanks to my friend who helped me with translating and giving me tips on some better Spanish terms to use 🙏

[moutainrusing]

pen pals

943 words, @wolfstarmicrofic

On the other side of town, there was a hospital, where children in need of long-term care spent their days and nights. On this side of town, there was a boarding school, where children in need of discipline spent their days and nights.

As an act of further discipline, the Headteacher, Professor McGonagall, had decided that the students of Diagon Academy should write a letter to a patient in Pomfrey’s Hospital, and forge a new friendship, become pen pals for life.

According to Sirius, she was delusional. But he still wrote a letter.

- - -

With his incredibly bony, stick-like, shaking fingers, Remus wrote a letter to someone in the rich, stuffy boarding school, who would apparently become his pen pal for life. (Unlikely.) Firstly, he was Remus. No one wanted to be his friend. Even if they weren’t in their right mind, he was a sick, frail loser, unable to do anything except stutter and sit in awkward silence.

Secondly, the people at Diagon Academy were judgemental snobs. Posh and pretentious and loaded. Why would he befriend that?

- - -

Minerva and Poppy sorted through the letters in companionable chatter, pairing a student with a patient in a match they hoped would lead to a long-lasting friendship.

Once the pairs had been made, the children could keep addressing letters to their pen pal; the school Prefects and hospital wardens would be able to deliver the letters by reading the name on the envelope, ensuring the children got the privacy they needed to open up to each other.

Minerva wanted the slightly troubled (okay, very troubled) students at her school to learn how to care for someone who didn’t live in their narrow-minded world, and Poppy wanted the minorly self-loathing (okay, very self-loathing) patients at her hospital to open up to the possibilities of the world around them. Together, the couple had come up with the idea of pen pals, and together, they wanted this to work so badly.

“I think we’ve found the perfect pair,” Minerva commented as she held Remus’s and Sirius’s letters side-by-side.

Poppy grinned. “I bet those two’ll end up more than friends.”

- - -

Dear pen pal (for life, apparently; I think the nurse may be barmy, but she’s well-intentioned and she’s my favourite and I want it to be known that I am doing this for her. So if I make an embarrassment of myself, it was for her. And I’ll never even get out of this hospital, so I don’t care if you think I’m weird.)

I’m supposed to write about myself. I’m fifteen. I’m a boy. I’ve been sick for as long as I can remember and I look like undercooked pastry. I like reading. There’s not a lot you can do in hospital. But you do get stickers. I’m actually fond of my sticker album. You get a sticker for every injection you take, and when I was younger, I used to get stickers for talking, because I was and am an anti-social freak. I’m really selling this.

Anyway, I’ve organised the pages of my sticker album because I have nothing better to do. There’s a page for leaves from deciduous trees, animals that specifically live in the savanna, fruits which are FRUITS and that includes tomatoes, and a lot of other fully sorted pages. This is my legacy. I might die any day but I still made this impact.

Look, if you’ve read this far, I’ll have to assume you’re as weird as I am.

Yours,

Remus Lupin

Sirius traced over the wobbly penmanship of his pen pal with a grin on his face. Remus was funny. And nice. Those seemed like such simple adjectives, but Sirius meant them to such an intense degree.

He got to writing back about how he was so much weirder than Remus. Although Remus must already know that from Sirius’s introductory letter.

- - -

Dear pen pal,

Minnie, our lovely Headteacher, and my future wife, even though she’s resistant to my charms at the moment (I don’t know why, I’m literally the hottest hunk of meat in this school I’m kidding sorry too soon) (also it may be because she’s gay and so am I) anyway, Minnie came up with the fanciful idea of pen pals. She really hopes this will mean something, and I don’t wanna let her down now, do I?

I mean, I also hope this means something because she has POISONED my brain with these delusional fantasies, and so has my best mate. James really believes this will benefit the country or something from the way he talks.

So, about myself. (It may seem I like talking about myself. I hate it. I’d rather show people who I am.) So, I’m not gonna talk about myself! I’m mysterious like that. Oh-so-interesting.

Like, yesterday, James and I put bouillon cubes into all the shower-heads and the boys ended up smelling like chicken broth (us included). It was fucking GROSS. And fucking awesome. Minnie immediately knew it was us though. My mystery works on everyone but her (another reason we’re soulmates, I should tell her).

LOTS OF LOVE

SIRIUS BLACK, EL AMOR DE TU VIDA

Remus actually snorted. He’d been worried, initially, to see ‘POISONED’ glaring at him in swirling cursive when he cast a cursory glance down the letter, but then he saw ‘THE LOVE OF YOUR LIFE’ in Spanish, and found that Sirius was a hyperbolic little shit.

He proceeded to write a letter to tell him exactly that. Oh, and another prank idea, because why not? It wasn’t like he’d be suspected. Maybe he could help Sirius and James with an original idea that couldn’t possibly be pinned on them.

[just-jordie-things]

the blackest day - fushiguro megumi

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ 10k follower event special! ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

word count: 12.2k warnings: shibuya + light culling game arc spoilers but not very canon compliant lmfao. suggested major character death, heavy themes of depression (not reader) including: not eating, insomnia, feelings of worthlessness + suicidal ideation. mentions of needles, stitches, + blood. heavy angst with a happy ending. summary: megumi tried to tell her not to go to that station. all he can do now is think that he should've tried harder. more info: rivals/friends to lovers, lots of hurt/some comfort, megumi has reached ultimate functioning angst in this ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[ it’s not easy for me to talk about // i have heavy heartstrings.  and not simple, it’s trigonometry // it’s hard to express // i can’t explain // ever since my baby went away, it’s been the blackest day ]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“I don’t care that they assigned me to go with Nanami,” 

Her voice came out in a huff, irritation getting the better of her, and it was starting to become quite noticeable.  Her chest was puffed, her lips were pulled into a snarl that looked completely unnatural on her usually bright features.  The hand that wasn’t holding a short sword was curled into a fist so tight it began to tremble.

“Itadori needs my help more” She finished, sounding sure of this change of plan.

Megumi cursed under his breath, this petty argument being the last thing he was in the mood for.  There was no time for some ridiculous change in team ups.  The pairings had already been decided, and had happened for a reason.  With a veil over Shibuya making communication impossible, a change like this was absurd.

“You don’t get to just pick and choose what you want to do, (y/n),” He snapped back at her, before aggressively pointing in the direction of Nanami’s team, where he and Takuma had just taken off.  

It hadn’t been until too late that Megumi caught (y/n) hovering away from her group, looking lost under a flickering street lamp as she gazed off in the opposite direction of her team, chewing on her lip as she worried about her other classmate headed for the train station.  Had Megumi noticed sooner, he probably wouldn’t be standing here fighting with her right now.  He probably could’ve hollered for Nanami or Takuma to circle back and drag her off if they had to.  But they were too far gone now to yell after, and his phone was useless.

“These teams were drawn up for a reason,” He muttered.  “Now you’ve rendered it useless” 

She rolls her eyes at his drama, turning to head off towards the train station, not caring about winning this argument.  There were more important things to do right now than stand here and bicker with Megumi.  She was getting tired of this repetitive game of his anyways.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” He took a large step towards her, making her halt in her tracks before she could get very far.

“I told you,” She snapped back.  “I’m going after Yuuji.  Something’s not right.  I can feel it” 

Megumi’s eyes widened and twitched.

“You can’t be serious” 

“Does it look like I’m joking?” 

Her expression didn’t flinch.  He could tell by the hardness in her eyes that she’d set her mind to this new plan of hers, and no matter how stupid it was, he knew deep down she wasn’t going to waver on it.

“You’re not going off on your own,” Megumi scoffs, hoping he could get her to see that she’d be walking right into a trap if she split off by herself.  “Do you even know your way there?” 

“I think I’m capable of reading street signs, Fushiguro” 

Surname.  Ouch.  He was only succeeding in pissing her off.

“Just- god, just come with me, alright?” He suggests instead, thinking a compromise would sway her.  “Going off by yourself right now is reckless and you know it.  Come on.  If the roles were reversed you wouldn’t let me do this” 

Her eyes narrow, and she clenches her jaw.

“I’m not going to stand here and play the ‘what if’ game with you,” She told him.  “You’re wasting time.  If you cross paths with anyone, tell them I went after Yuuji”

“(y/n)-” 

Before he could come up with another argument- or resort to picking her up off the ground and forcing her not to go- she was already turning on her heels and breaking into a full sprint.

Megumi had tried to follow her, but she’d always been faster than him.  He called after her until his throat burned raw.  Eventually he had to go off with his own team, knowing if he strayed too far then he was putting himself at just as great a risk as she’d been.

But fuck, had he made a mistake in not pushing himself to follow her.

Even if they’d both died trying to get to Yuuji, he thinks it would’ve been better than this.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Megumi wakes up that morning looking like he was in just as terrible of a state as he had the day before.  And the day before that.  And every day before that for the last six days.

It had been a week since the incident with Shibuya, and with every day that passed and the more ground they covered, Megumi was starting to feel worse.

Yuuta silently offered up an apple he’d found at the last shop they’d raided.  Megumi barely glanced at it before shaking his head, going right to work rolling up the sleeping bag that was starting to get worn and dirty.  Yuuta frowned, crouching down beside the younger man to talk quietly with him.

“You should eat something,” He suggests calmly.  “When was the last time you’ve eaten anything?” 

Megumi tries not to appear annoyed.  He knows Yuuta is only trying to look out for him, he’d been trying to look out for everyone.  Unfortunately since the impact of Shibuya, it was hard to keep everyone in check and healthy.

“Ate last night” Megumi replied.

Yuuta frowned.

“You had a bite of a loaf of bread” He replied knowingly.

Megumi paused in his movements, his sleeping bag rolled up part way, and his eyes caught the beginnings of a hole that he hadn’t noticed before.  It must’ve gotten caught on some rubble or debris and torn the nylon.  He frowned at the supposed tear-proof material.  If it worsened it would be a nuisance, and if he was out of a sleeping bag, well, who knew when or if he’d come across another one.

Pushing that worry off for a later time, he glanced at Yuuta over his shoulder.  His face was blank, as it had been for the better part of the last week.

“You don’t need to keep tabs on me,” He said.  “I’m fine” 

Yuuta held his stare for a long moment, hoping that if he let the lie sit there for long enough, Megumi would realize how empty it sounded.  

But he didn’t budge.

So Yuuta sighs, standing and dropping the apple back into a paper bag and rolling it up so it’d tuck neatly in the backpack of supplies they’d been gathering.

“You know eventually, you’ll need to eat something,” He says matter-of-factly.  “If we come across something and you don’t have the energy to fight-” 

“I said I’m fine” 

Despite the harsh words, Megumi’s voice is monotone, and not all that loud.  In fact, he’s almost whispering.  It only sends a chill of worry through Yuuta’s demeanor.  He’d already been stressing over his well being- not to mention Maki’s, and Itadori’s- it was starting to be a weight on his shoulders keeping an eye on everyone.

It wasn’t that he was burdened by his friends or the guilt they bore, but after a certain amount of time, he just didn’t know how to help anymore.

Yuuji was completely unable to separate himself from Sukuna, taking on the destruction of Shibuya and blaming himself for the entire catastrophe.  All the death, the chaos, and where they found themselves now, the boy could barely keep it together.  Yuuta had only known him for a short amount of time, and even he found his behavior to be unsettling.

Maki had slain her entire bloodline.  All but her sister, who had died trying to protect her, trying to make her stronger, so that when she broke free from their twisted clutches, she was able to take down every single one of them.  Yuuta had barely approached the subject.  No one did, really.  Maki had briefly mentioned it when they all grouped together, and since then, it’d been radio silence.

And Megumi… well, Megumi was still beating himself up over (y/n).  It didn’t matter what anyone said.  It didn’t matter that Yuuji held onto some sliver of hope that she’d made it out of Shibuya before shit really hit the fan.  It was as though Megumi had tuned everything out.  They practically watched him dim before them, a burnt out bulb that wouldn’t light again no matter how much they prodded and tried.

For now, Yuuta let him be.  The gang packed up their supplies from the spot they’d crashed the night before, and without much talk at all began moving again.  Here and there they talked about direction, and brainstormed how to get around stealthily, but other than that, it was mostly a quiet journey.

Megumi remained completely silent.  One hand on the strap of his sleeping bag over his shoulder, the other shoved in his pocket.  Distantly he recognized that his stomach was aching and his mouth was dry, and he was sure he was also in desperate need of a shower, too.  But even as the thoughts crossed his mind, they seemed to float away and fade into nothing.  Just like everything else that tried to fill the time in his head, it was always replaced by the overwhelming gnaw of grief.

Maybe he didn’t deserve to eat.  It wasn’t like there was much food to go around anyways.  Wasn’t everyone else much more deserving of a healthier portion? What had he done in comparison to everyone else in this makeshift group of people who were once peers but now that Jujutsu Society had fallen apart… did they even have anything else in common?

Just as the mental downward spiral began, it was washed away once more by the reminder that it didn’t matter anyways.  Guilt and loss settled at the forefront of his thoughts again, and he kept his head down as he continued walking.

The ironic part about all of this was that if she had been here, she’d laugh at him and smack him upside the head.  Everything matters, dummy, he could almost hear her scolding him, with no bite to her bark, just as always.  She always had something dumb to say like that.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“Stop being so gloomy, ‘gumi!” She’d hollered, followed by a string of laughter as she skipped up to him, turning her back to Nobara and Yuuji, who happily kept walking along to the next shop on their trip.

“Definitely don’t ever call me that again” He muttered back, crinkling his nose and narrowing his eyes in distaste for the nickname.  She laughed again, stopping just before him on the sidewalk, just as their friends entered a boutique, leaving them behind.

“Oh yeah?” She places her hands on her hips and raises an eyebrow at him, and he wonders if she knows that their friends just abandoned them out here.  “Or what?” She asks defiantly.

He’d taken notice that when she was trying to instigate a bickering match, the corner of her lips tilted up in a proud little smirk.  She tended to get ahead of herself, always certain that she’d win whatever it was they were doing.  From petty arguments on the sidewalk to sparring to missions where she always wanted to compete and one up him.  Although after a while he had to admit it could be a little fun to show off on the easier-to-exorcize curses.

“Dork,” He rolls his eyes without a hint of genuine attitude.  When she gapes at him in mock offense he raises his hand to flick her forehead.  “C’mon, our friends dipped” He starts to head towards the shop Nobara and Yuuji had disappeared into, but she stays put outside.

“Yeah… I sort of let them…” She admits, a small, guilty smile stretching across her lips.  Megumi raises his eyebrows at her, smiling back in amusement.  Usually whatever those two were up to, (y/n) was following behind like an eager duckling.  “What?” She asks innocently.  “I just don’t want to spend all day looking at things I won’t buy and then carrying all of Nobara’s shit!” She defends herself.

Megumi laughs, a real laugh, his eyes crinkling at their corners and his shoulders shaking and everything.  (y/n’s) almost taken aback by the action, surprised that he looked so… joyful.

“Alright, you’ve got a point.  We have an opportunity here, and we should take it while we can” He begins to plot with her, and her smile stretches into a grin as she nods back at him.

“Bookstore and coffee?” She suggests quietly, as if it was more outlandish of an idea than it really was.

Megumi nods affirmatively, tucking his hands in his pockets before turning in the opposite direction, (y/n) following him right away so they could make it there before their friends noticed their departure.

She still pushed his buttons as they made their way to their destination down the street, but he couldn’t help but feel a blossom of warmth in his chest that for once he was the one getting her to tag alongside him.  He would never admit it, opting to poke back at her the rest of the day like nothing had changed, but it had felt… good.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The day that annoying chirping flyhead had announced a culling game, Megumi felt a glimmer of hope spark inside of him that he barely recognized.  It had only been nine or so days since the incident, but it seemed like ages since he’d felt optimistic about something- anything.  

But as the flyhead spouted off the rules to the games, he’d hoped that a lineup would be included.  Surely with so many sorcerers pitted against each other, there must be some condition of having all of the participants and their points on display, right? 

The others recognized a change in him then, an eagerness, an impatience as he barely took in what the flyhead was announcing, only waiting to hear what he wanted.

Announce the players’ names, he silently pleaded with the damn thing.  Say her name, tell me she’s a participant, tell me she’s alive.

But the rules concluded, the flyhead seemingly disappeared, and Megumi felt like a fucking idiot.

Yuuji and Yuuta shared a look, and the pink haired boy turned to give his friend an apologetic expression.  He opened his mouth to say something, but Megumi tightened his hold on the strap of his sleeping bag and kept walking before he could say anything.

He didn’t want to hear any bullshit about maybes or what ifs.  He just wanted to get to the next safe place by nightfall so he could lay awake on his sleeping bag for eight hours, and then repeat this whole cycle again tomorrow.

His ever so present grief and his growing hunger was starting to blend into a concoction that made him more stand-offish than usual.  The others had almost cracked, barely acknowledging him at this point, simply not knowing how.  Yuuji still tried, of course.  Forcing a water bottle in his face, or a piece of food that hadn’t gone totally bad.  He’d maybe had a few bites here or there in the last few days, not nearly enough to keep up his energy, but somehow he pushed through anyways.

Don’t get him wrong, he wasn’t finding some hidden source of energy, he wasn’t persevering, and he certainly wasn’t living because he had to.  If he was being honest, he’d been wondering why his body hadn’t given out on him yet.  Nothing felt good anymore.  If it wasn’t numb, it ached, and neither one of those options was more of a relief than the other.

He wasn’t pushing through the unmovable force of his grief.  (y/n)... Nobara… Gojo… Nanami…  He wasn’t staying strong in their memory, and if anything, he wished his body would just give up already so he wasn’t such a burden to those around him.  Megumi spent most of his time in his own head, but he wasn’t completely oblivious.  He saw the way the others talked about him with only their eyes.  Short, worried glances exchanged on his behalf, each of them trying to silently convince the others to do something first, no one wanting to be the one to address it.

Tonight when he rolls out his holey sleeping bag and lays back on it, he stares at the starless sky and pleads with it.  He begs the rolling clouds and inky black night to let him close his eyes, just this once, so that he won’t have to open them again.

He can’t possibly spend another long night wide awake, thinking about his hunger, thinking about her, no matter how hard he tries to shove it all deep, deep down and ignore it.

As exhausted as he is physically, sleep never takes over his body.

A tear rolls out of the corner of his eye, trekking slowly down his cheekbone.  It lingers at his jaw, fat and wobbly as he clenches his teeth together as hard as he can stand it, desperate to make this tear the last.

It falls with a near silent splat against the nylon material he lays on.

The following little splats come in quick succession, seemingly a little louder as they fall one after the other.  Megumi chokes down the sobs to be sure no one else could catch wind of his breakdown.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

She momentarily glances up at him when he enters the room, only to scowl and turn away as soon as she recognizes it’s him.  Megumi fights the urge to roll his eyes, sliding the infirmary door shut and tucking his hands into his pockets as he approaches her.

“I’m not talking to you,”

Despite her sharp glare, he laughs at the ironic statement.

“I mean it.  I’m still mad at you,” She spits out, turning back to where she was stitching up the gash in her upper arm.  

It was a nasty thing to look at, and probably worse to patch up on her own, but it wouldn’t be the first time she’d gotten back from an assignment too late to request Shoko’s help- and reverse cursed technique.

“Seriously,” There’s more of a bite to her tone when she plunges the needle through the narrow end of the wound.  “Just go”  

She’s hissing and clenching her jaw before pulling the needle through and doing it again, trying to keep her stitches even.  It wasn’t the easiest task with her non-dominant hand, but she didn’t want to show an ounce of struggle.

“You sure talk a lot for not talking to me” Megumi hums, still coming closer, despite her warnings.

He earns himself another glare, but he ignores it, stepping up to where she’s sat on the edge of one of the paper-covered cots.  She flinches as though to lean away from him, and he raises a brow at her.

“You want sloppy stitches?” He asks pointedly, voice hushed and lacking any emotion.  “Fine by me, have it heal weird if that’s what you want” 

He starts to step away, and (y/n) huffs.  Her eyes shut and her shoulders slump, and he takes her nonverbal defeat as his cue to pluck the needle from her hand and get to work.  She wouldn’t say so out loud, but she knew his hand was steadier than hers anyways.

He works quickly and diligently.  His free hand placed gently around her arm to make sure it stays still as he stitches up the gnarly cut.  She tries not to react to how cold it is to the touch, but her muscles flinch when he first makes contact.

“Sorry” He mumbles without much thought, going for the fourth stitch.

“For what, exactly?” (y/n) mutters back with a furrow in her brow.  “For your freakishly cold hands? Or for letting me take this hit back there?” 

Megumi doesn’t respond right away, opting to keep his focus on his needlework.  This only annoys her further, and he can practically feel it radiating off of her.  He knew it was a matter of seconds before she blew up at him, she was probably just thinking through what she wanted to say when she screamed his head off.  He could tell her to shut up and stop acting so childish, but he doesn’t.

And he’s not totally sure why.  If this was Yuuji or Nobara in her place, he’d be telling them exactly where they’d gone wrong on that assignment, and to top it off walk them through how they needed to shape up before they took another one.  

But it’s not Yuuji or Nobara.  It’s (y/n).  And his mouth stays shut.

Truth was she wasn’t necessarily wrong.  He had technically let her take this hit from a Grade Two curse with a horrific set of claws.  But had he not sent her that way, then she would’ve wanted to tag team the Grade One with him.  And this particular Grade One had a gore streak in the deaths it had caused around Tokyo.  And on that fact alone, he took it on himself, and ordered (y/n) to take on the Grade Two.

“I mean seriously what the fuck was that? You think you get to boss me around just ‘cause you’ve been doing this a little longer?” 

And here she goes.  He braces himself mentally for whatever she was about to throw at him.

“Or is it something else? Hm? You needed the ego boost? Needed to feel like some kind of big strong man, Megumi?” Her eyes narrow at him but he doesn’t cast her a single glance.  His focus remains on the steady movements of stitching her up.  “Did it feel good to play hero? Did you feel good exorcizing that Grade One and laughing when I let a measly little Grade Two take me down-?”

“I wasn’t laughing” 

His voice is quieter than hers, and significantly calmer, but it still manages to shut her up.  For a moment, her expression is blank while she still stares at him, and he still keeps his eyes on his task.  

A lump forms in her throat, suddenly making it very hard to insult him.  It remains silent between them as Megumi finishes up the last stitch, finishing it off perfectly and dropping the bloody needle on the tray beside the cot.  The metallic thunk echos shortly, and then finally, he turns his attention towards her.

To his surprise, her eyes looked wet.  She couldn’t possibly be holding back tears.  Surely the stitches hurt, she wasn’t invincible, but she was strong, and never showed weakness.  Even when that curse had grabbed her by the arm and he feared it was going to rip it clean off her body, she hadn’t cried.  Screamed and swore, sure, but not a tear was shed the whole way back to campus.

“Think what you will,” He tells her, eyes flickering between hers curiously, wondering what it was that would make her tear up now.  “But I’m not so callous that I would take amusement in your pain,” 

She tries to swallow the lump in her throat, but it only burns more, and she hopes that he can’t see the emotion on her face, she hopes that she’s expressionless, cold, even.

“In fact, when I sent you after that curse, it was for the opposite reason.  I was trying to do you a favor” 

“A favor?” She repeats, intending to snap the words back at him, but her voice is strained by her burning throat, and instead she almost sounds… lost.  Megumi can’t quite put his finger on it.

He nods his head once in a short motion.

“Sorry you got hurt,” He says, and he means it, but his tone still lacks any sort of emotion.  He plans to keep it that way.  “Just didn’t want to see you get ripped to shreds by a Grade One” 

He doesn’t say anything else, and he doesn’t give her the chance to reply, or even fully react to that statement.  Instead he turns around and walks right back out of the infirmary, not so much of a nod in parting as he shuts the door behind him and leaves her completely alone.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

When Megumi had found Yuuji after the incident in Shibuya, he’d ran to him and grabbed him by the shoulders, asking if he was alright and hugging him shortly out of the pure relief that someone was there, someone lived.  Even though Yuuji was in rough shape physically and mentally after everything, he was a person that Megumi could see and touch, and relief flooded through him like pure ecstasy.

“Nobara?” He’d asked, unable to finish the rest of the question.  He didn’t have to for Yuuji to understand.

Yuuji didn’t have to answer aloud for Megumi to understand.  His glossy eyes turned away, desperate for something else to catch his attention before he thought too hard about the fate their friend befell.

Megumi frowned, his throat going dry as he swallowed harshly.

He didn’t want to ask anymore questions.  He wanted to relish the lone fact that Yuuji, his best friend, was alive and standing in front of him.  He not only lived through the catastrophe but they’d reunited.  He wished he could hold onto that joy for just a moment longer.  But he couldn’t help himself from asking another burning question in his mind.

“A-and (y/n)?” He stammered out uncharacteristically.  His panic was evident in his wide eyes and tightening grip on Yuuji’s shoulders.  The pink haired boy looked back at him in alarm.  “She- she left Nanami’s team to come find you, did she?” He explained the situation poorly, not wanting to waste time talking if Yuuji had an answer for him. 

He doesn’t respond right away.

“Did she find you?” He asks again, his voice quieter as his features begin to fall.

His heart hammered in his chest in a way he’d never felt before.  A deep rooted fear he can’t recall ever having before, even as a toddler and fearing a monster under the bed didn’t hold up against the icy hot pins forcing their way through his bloodstream now.  His face felt hot as it went pale.  The back of his neck felt sweaty as a cool breeze hit it.  He was sure he was about to have a seizure, the panic was all too much.  The longer Yuuji didn’t give him an outright response, the worse the taste of bile in Megumi’s throat became.

“I did see her,” Yuuji finally mumbles out, dropping his eyes to his hands, which he held palms up and trembling before him.  “After Choso- the people that…” Yuuji coughs, the need to vomit suddenly pushing through his mind and throat.  “She was trying to exorcize them all,” 

He was struggling to explain what he recalled seeing that night.  It was all too brutal, and his mind was trying to push the trauma into a dark corner where he couldn’t think about it if he tried.  But this was important.  Megumi needed to know.

“She… she was crying,” Yuuji looked up at Megumi again, who furrowed his brows and shook his head.  “She knew they were still people deep down, like… Junpei” 

Megumi’s head shaking grew more rapid as he processed this all too slowly for his liking.

“And then?” He asked.  “And then what? Where’d she go? You got split up?” Question after question tumbled out of his mouth so quick his words began to slur together.

Yuuji wanted to cry just seeing him so worried sick, much less actually remember what happened.

“I… I didn’t see,” The pink haired boy admitted quietly, shame bringing his eyes downcast again.  “I’m sorry, Megumi.  W- we got separated.  But there… there were so many of them…” 

Megumi had stepped away, his hands falling from Yuuji’s shoulders, hanging heavy at his sides as he took a larger step back.  

“I tried to find her,” Yuuji’s voice cracked as he hoped to explain himself.  “Really I- I didn’t want to abandon her, I didn’t want to leave her there, not after everything she did to get to me- she- fuck- she probably saved my life showing up when she did!” 

He could register that Yuuji was still speaking, but Megumi could hardly make all of it out.  His vision was clouding over, and his entire body felt weak, as though he could collapse at any point.  He hadn’t even realized he was heaving until Yuuji, Maki, and Yuuta were crowded around him and helping him slowly down to the ground to calm him down.

He’d never had a panic attack before.

Finding out that (y/l/n) (y/n) had likely died along with countless others in Shibuya struck the first of several panic induced attacks.  Most of which he managed to keep hidden from the others, but some hit so hard and so suddenly that it was near impossible to work through it in private.

He’d been replaying Yuuji’s account of that night over and over in his head for days now, trying to find some sort of hope that she could’ve gotten out of that train station before all hell broke loose.  But with a hazy recollection and no other witnesses, it was hard to pretend that she made it out alive.

At first he’d spent time looking for signs of her as they traveled.  Any remains of camps he was sifting through, hoping to find that familiar necklace she always wore, or the shortsword she’d carried that night, something- anything that could point to a sign of her still being out there somewhere.

But now he barely lifted his head as he followed the group blindly, kicking at loose rubble and keeping a tight hold on his unraveling sleeping bag that was almost at the end of it’s lifespan.  There would be no use in holding onto a tattered rag of nylon.  

There wasn’t a chance he’d ever see her again.  His denial was beginning to fade, reality giving him a cold slap to the face to wake him up.  It was harsh.  It left him rough around the edges, literally and figuratively.  His facial features were sharper, and devoid of color.  His muscles were sore, only growing more so the longer he put off eating a proper meal.  If he kept this up he knew there would only be a few more sleepless nights until he didn’t stand back up in the morning.

And still, when he was offered a piece of food, he took a mere few bites before excusing himself to go lay on his ruined sleeping bag and stare at the sky.  

He cursed it when it was empty and dull.  He cursed it when it was full of twinkling stars and a bright moon.  It was never quite right.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“Y’know any constellations?” 

Megumi startled upon hearing her tired voice creep up behind him.  When he turned to see her shuffling out of the doors in her bare feet and ducky-print pajama shorts and matching tee, he could almost laugh.  She was yawning, her eyes shut as she rubbed at them with the ball of her fist.  She looked like a child.

“It’s late” He muttered when she waddled up next to him sleepily.

“No shit,” She grumbles back with a roll of her eyes.  “So? Y’know any constellations or not?” 

Megumi wasn’t sure what exactly she was doing out here.  Had she heard him sneak out of his room to step out for fresh air? He’d left fifteen or so minutes ago.  If he’d woken her up, surely she would’ve followed him out here sooner than now.

Not to mention, she’d barely spoken to him since their last assignment together, and their sort-of argument in the infirmary.  The few times she had addressed him had only been out of courtesy to their present friends.  But even then, her eyes never quite met his, and her words were short.

“Actually, yeah,” Megumi hums thoughtfully.  “Tsumiki loved ‘em.  She used to show me when I was little” 

(y/n) nods, wrapping her arms around herself after realizing she wouldn’t relieve the ache in her eyes if she kept irritating them.  She lets out a soft sigh as she stands beside him, tilting her head back to glance across the sky.  She wasn’t sure of the last time she’d appreciated the stars.  It must have been when she was still a child.

Megumi clears his throat uncomfortably, before raising his hand to trace a pattern in the sky.

“Obviously that’s the Orion’s belt,” He says, before mapping out the rest of the hunter’s shape.  “The rest of Orion,” He mumbles, and he’s surprised when he glances down to see (y/n) carefully following his hand.  He wonders if she can see it the way he does, like the picture in the Astronomy book Tsumiki used to haul around.  Curious to see how interested she really was, he continued on to another constellation.  “That’s Ursa Major,” He says, tracing the shape out slowly to give her time to adjust to the image.  “And, uh, Ursa Minor is… there” He does the same for both bears.

(y/n) hums curiously, a small smile tugging at her lips in amusement.  She never would have guessed that Astronomy of all things was one of Megumi’s interests.

“Do you know what your star sign is?” He asks, dropping his hand and glancing down at her.  She raises a brow at him in surprise, slowly delivering her answer, half expecting him to come up short and sheepishly admit he didn’t know where that one was.

But he surprises her again, eyes darting around the sky for a matter of seconds before finding it in seconds and dragging his fingers along the main stars of her constellation with a great amount of ease.

“Alright, that’s pretty cool,” She finally confesses, shyly glancing up at him.  “You’re a pretty good brother for learning all of this” She tells him.

His attention is brought back down to her as soon as she says it, finding a soft smile on her face and a look in her eyes that he can’t quite decipher.  He thinks it’s akin to worry, perhaps empathy.  His eyes flicker between hers a few times as he tries to pinpoint exactly what it is.  She doesn’t shy away from his long silence accompanied by the eye contact that made her feel like she was an artifact under glass.  

It’s quiet for a while, until eventually Megumi looks back up at the sky again.  She wonders what brought him out here to begin with, but she doesn’t ask.  Instead, she clasps her hands together behind her back and admires the stars with him.

“What else can you show me?”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

If it had been up to him, Megumi would’ve rather stayed behind at Jujutsu Tech to guard Tengen.  Maybe if he’d sat alone in the warping hallways of the school he could pass out from the mindfuckery of it all.  Then maybe, once Kenjaku arrived…

It doesn’t matter now.  Yuki and Choso had already decided they’d be the ones to stand guard.  He and Yuuji were already on their way to find Hakari, and there was no point in changing plans now.  Besides, he didn’t want to burden Yuuji any further than he was sure he already had.

“So, you’ve met this guy?”

Yuuji’s the first to speak, and Megumi doesn’t exactly have an answer.  He shrugs his shoulders and tilts his head side to side with a blank expression.

“Sort of.  I guess” 

Yuuji waits for further explanation, but after a few beats of silence, he realizes that Megumi isn’t going to explain what that means.

“Okay… well, do you think we can convince him to help us?” 

“Don’t know” Megumi replies.  

Yuuji frowns, and turns his gaze forward, fixing it straight ahead before slowly exhaling through his nose to ease his nerves.

Megumi glances at him out of his peripheral vision, and seeing his clear disappointment in his features, huffs out a breath and tries to explain himself.

“I met him for, like, a minute.  One time.  Before I was even enrolled at Jujutsu Tech,” He said.  

Yuuji turned towards his friend with a grin, eager to hear him opening up, or at least, trying to.  For once he keeps his mouth shut in the hopes that Megumi continues to talk.

“Gojo introduced me,” He went on.  “And I really don’t know if he’ll help us.  He’s a bit… eccentric” He mutters the last part with distaste.  

“Like Gojo?” Yuuji chuckles, and Megumi tilts his head from shoulder to shoulder once more.

“If Gojo had a gambling addiction so twisted it got him kicked out of school, then… maybe” 

Yuuji’s eyes widened, and he snapped his mouth shut before he could ask any other questions.  Megumi’s patience may have been thin- and perhaps nonexistent at this point- but he had a feeling that he should let his friend save up some energy for his social battery.  If Hakari is anything like Gojo, then he’d certainly need it.

When they stop to rest it’s not for long.  Yuuji gets Megumi to eat a bit more than usual, though not by much, he takes it as a good sign.  They rest just long enough to soothe the ache in their feet, but as soon as they’re moving again, the pain returns.  Neither one of them complained.

THe sun was just starting to set when they finally reached their destination.  Megumi stopped them both just on the perimeter of the territory.  An unsettling feeling spiking in his chest had his instincts telling him not to step any closer without a plan. 

Silently, he glances over to Yuuji, who’s already surveying the area.  He must have felt it, too.

“Cursed energy?” Yuuji mumbles, his brows furrowed as he meets Megumi’s hard stare.

The dark haired boy nods his head once in confirmation.

“Yeah,” He hums back.  “And a lot of it” 

It was impossible to ignore.  Cursed energy in great quantities had a natural buzz, like static electricity in the air.  This wasn’t that at all.  If Megumi closed his eyes and focused on it, he was sure he could feel the ground below him vibrating with thick waves of energy.

One thing was for sure, they were in the right place.  But whatever it was that was happening here put him on edge.

“Keep your guard up,” He muttered, stepping past the brush they’d been hiding behind and heading towards the building.  He tucked his hands into his pockets as he glanced over his shoulder to make sure Yuuji was following.  “And your expectations low” He adds upon seeing the grin on his friend’s face.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“Arms up, Megumi!” 

Despite her offensive stance and the glow of cursed energy around her fists, (y/n’s) voice was full of pure delight.  Sometimes when Megumi would spar with her, he would be reminded of Maki.  He never understood why she never sought her out instead, surely the older sorcerer was a better match for her twisted delight with training.  Nonetheless, here he was on a Saturday, rolling his eyes as he raised his hands to keep his face behind his arms so that when she hit him she didn’t break anything.

(y/n) spoke as if she could read his thoughts.

“Skipping out on training doesn’t get you to Grade One, y’know,” She told him as they started circling.  “And if Yuuji can’t teach me Black Flash, I’ll have to learn it myself!” 

“Did you even ask Nanami?” Megumi grumbles, already knowing her answer.

She wasn’t one to ask for help.  Only ever requesting a training partner- or victim, as Nobara had once affectionately put it.

She didn’t give him an answer anyways, throwing a fist towards his exposed stomach, trying to apply her cursed energy at the last possible moment.  She not only didn’t succeed in using Black Flash, but she missed hitting him too, as he dodged with a graceful sidestep.

“If you’re so scared, why’d you say yes?” (y/n) asked, gearing up to find a weaker spot on him to aim for.

He doesn’t want to answer that, but she clearly isn’t going to make her attack until he gives her something, so he huffs.

“No one else would wake up at this hour on a weekend” He says lamely.  It feels like a lie when he says it, even though Megumi knows it’s the truth.  

It was seven in the morning, after all.  Yuuji and Nobara likely wouldn’t be awake for a few more hours.  If (y/n) needed a partner to train, her options were severely limited.

“Guess you’re right” She shrugs.

In the same motion she throws another punch at him, this time her cursed energy crackling in her hand, giving her some hope. But even though she landed a hit on his shoulder, it was still unsuccessful.

She groans loudly, to which Megumi scowls, seeing as he was the one that just got punched.  He rolls his shoulder to work out the ache before taking his defensive stance again, waiting for her to try again.

“You’re not in the right mindset” He points out.

She raises a brow at him.

“You wanna chase me around a bit?” She suggests, only half jokingly.  Megumi snorts, but stops himself before he could actually laugh at the idea.

“No,” He shakes his head.  “You should try something else” 

“Like what?”

“I don’t know,” He huffs, annoyed for trying to walk her through a technique he’d never even used.  Still, he finds himself brainstorming another approach.  “Try psyching out,” He suggests, nodding his head as he thinks it through.  “It’d be more effective that way anyways.  If you’re using hand-to-hand with an opponent but don’t lead with it, you’ve got the element of surprise on your side, too,” 

(y/n) nods along with him, finding the advice to be surprisingly solid.

“So if you let them underestimate you, then catch them off guard, you’d probably be good as gold” He finished.

She beams at him as she raises her fists again, ready to take his advice out on him right away.

“Just remember you suggested it when I take you to the infirmary later” She teases.

Megumi smirks, widening his stance and raising his arms to protect his face again.

“You’ll still have to figure out the technique” He reminds, but the coy look on his face suggests that he had no doubt in his mind that she could master it in no time.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The inside of the building was so loud and rambunctious, it was downright overstimulating.  Megumi fought the urge to cover his ears as soon as they entered the premises.  Crowds of people swarmed multiple levels- he counted about six before getting distracted by all the pushing and shoving- and it was no secret what it was they were wildly rooting for.

“A fighting ring, huh?” Yuuji grinned, not out of delight for the sport, but surprise for the timing of a setting like this.  Did these people even know about the games?

“Great,” Megumi clicked his tongue bitterly as he surveyed the crowds with a furrow in his brow.  “Should’ve expected he’d pull some shit like this” He muttered too low for Yuuji to make out what he was grumbling about.

The squared ring where the current match was taking place wasn’t too far from where Yuuji and Megumi found themselves, but with all of the people in the way it made it difficult for them to see who was winning.  Too many arms in the air with money in their fists blocked the fight.  But it seemed whoever was up there was getting thrown around like a ragdoll.  The sound of a body rapidly being smacked against the rough mat or against the chains surrounding the ring were heard in quick succession.

However despite the sound of someone being brutalized, the match continued.  Neither of them have caught a glimpse of either combatant, but they knew it must’ve been an impressive lineup as it had been a few minutes of this now.

“Is this even legal?” Yuuji asked.  Megumi scoffed, although he wasn’t trying to deliver a rude response.

“Not even a little bit” He mutters back with a shake of his head.

Wordlessly, they decide they’re going to push through the horde of chanting people to get a better look at what was going on.  They pause in their shoving when a booming voice erupts from an intercom, the screech of an excited announcer sounding throughout the building and echoing across the concrete infrastructure.

“Place your final bets now!” He drawled every word out for dramatic effect.  “Will our resident Panda live to see another day?” 

Yuuji and Megumi locked eyes instantly, and without having to say a thing, began pushing and shoving forward again.  The sea of people cast them dirty looks and occasionally pushed back to scold them for their rude behavior, but they paid it no mind.

There could only be one Panda in that ring, right?

Sure enough when they got closer to the square, they could see the wide, furry expanse of a panda- The Panda’s- back.  His shoulders were trembling, not from pain or fear, but from the rambunctious laughter he let out.  He raised his paws, tilting his head back as his howl boomed.

Yuuji’s face brightened excitedly upon seeing their old friend.  Megumi couldn’t help but feel some relief as well.  Neither of them had considered the possibility of scattered sorcerers they knew being here.

They were close enough now that when Panda spoke, they could make out what he was saying.  The crowd around them was too busy screaming and chanting threatening cheers to care about what the fighters in the ring were saying to one another, but Yuuji and Megumi did their best to listen in.

“Just try not to knock me out this time!” Panda said through his laughter.

Was he throwing the fight? Megumi didn’t quite understand the context to this statement.

“Last time they didn’t bother to move me off the ring, I slept here all night!” Panda continued, his laughing ceasing as he took on an irritated tone.  “Ruined my back!” 

His opponent only laughed.  Something feminine and twisted, but undoubtedly genuine.

Megumi’s heart plummeted to his stomach.  He recognized that sound.

When Panda’s body was knocked back into the chains of the ring from a swift but heavy kick to the chest, his opponent was finally made visible.

A girl.  Not that girls couldn’t fight, but this particular girl had a cutthroat attitude when it came to fistfighting a bear.  It seemed every swing of her arms as she landed hit after hit on him grew faster in speed.  Half of her face was covered with a black mask, but the bloodied grin on her face was that of someone who believed they couldn’t possibly lose, no matter what beast of an opponent they might face.

Recognition flashed in Megumi’s face, making him go pale as he watched her strike two blows to Panda’s jaw so quickly it had to have given him whiplash, sending his furry head back and forth with such great force.

If Panda was throwing the fight, it didn’t really look like it.  He blocked a hit here and there with his massive paws, but she always seemed to move quicker to outsmart him.  Ducking and weaving around him with graceful feet and agile movements to keep herself from getting caught by him again.  Clearly she’d learned a lesson when he’d been throwing her around earlier.

When Panda did try to land a hit on her again, she grabbed his large wrist in one hand, still grinning as she used the momentum of his swing to swing herself forward and kick her feet into his chest.

The first from the right foot, directly against his ribcage, knocking all wind out of him.  

The crowd began to go wild, anticipating something Megumi hadn’t caught onto yet.

The second from the left foot, kicking lower against his stomach, making him curl over and heave.

But before he could catch his breath or clutch his stomach, she struck with her right foot again.  

The third and final blow came with a shock of blue energy, an abundant amount of cursed energy striking him in the chest so hard it sent him a few feet backwards, crashing into the chains and crumpling to the mat in a heap of black and white.

It was undoubtedly Black Flash.

She didn’t taunt him as the referee began his countdown before calling a knock out and declaring her a winner.  She didn’t strut around or try to rile up her fans in the crowd.  Not that she needed to, the people around Megumi and Yuuji were clawing at their own faces in astonishment from watching her take her opponent down with ease and showmanship.

And when the match was officially over and the announcer was hyping the crowd up for the next fight over the intercom, she slid out of the ring and left the area without so much as a wave.  It took a few minutes for Panda to get up, but eventually he was sauntering his way out of the ring too, waving to the few people who were his diehard fans and didn’t take his defeat tonight as anything more than some bad luck.

“Come on” Megumi beckoned Yuuji to follow him, his feet already moving as fast as they could take him through the mob, struggling to follow the exact direction that Panda and his opponent before him had gone.

Yuuji kept up fairly well, but Megumi wouldn’t have noticed.  He was driven forward by absolute panic, his heart racing in his chest with a feeling he’d thought he’d relinquished days ago when he’d tried to stop living in denial.

But he couldn’t get the image of that girl out of his mind.  She was so… he couldn’t get his hopes up.  Her laugh was so familiar he couldn’t have possibly mistaken it for someone else's… he shouldn’t get his hopes up.

“Yo! Panda!” 

Eventually the crowd thinned out enough that Yuuji tried using the power of his loud holler to get their friend’s attention.  Panda perked up immediately, spinning around and searching the crowd for the familiar voice.  It didn’t take long for his eyes to land on the waving boy with the unmistakable head of pink hair.  He grinned, and his ears twitched a bit as he turned completely and began to make his way towards the pair.

“Itadori!” He beams wider as he reaches them, as if they could have turned out to be figments of his imagination.  “Fushiguro!” 

He hugs them both at once before either could protest.

“I can’t believe you’re here! Did you come to see me fight?” He laughs at his own joke, shaking his head before they could even say anything.  “Really though, what are you doing here? It’s not as fun as it looks, y’know” 

“We’re looking to talk to Hakari-” 

“Who was that with you?” Megumi speaks up before Yuuji could begin his explanation.  

Yuuji turns to him with a confused look, which Panda shares for a moment, before he chuckles.

“She went down that way,” He said, pointing behind him in the direction he’d been heading.  “(y/n/n) always ditches fights fast.  Hates the crowd, I guess.  Not me, I love the-” 

“Wait, (y/n/n)?” Yuuji repeats the semi-familiar nickname, his jaw going slack and his eyes widening.

He turns to share a look with Megumi, but it seemed the raven haired boy was already processing just whose nickname that could’ve been.  His face was flushed so pale he looked sick.

“As in (y/n)-(y/n/n)?” Yuuji continues.

“Yeah,” Panda nods affirmatively, not understanding just how devastating his casual response was for the younger sorcerers in front of him.  “She’s-” 

“She’s alive?” Megumi finally speaks. 

His voice is hardly above a whisper, but the words are like a dropping bomb.  Clear, and unmistakable.

Panda blinks in shock, his features contorting in realization as he looks between his two friends.  He doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t even know where to start.

So he nods his head, and turns to point down the corridor he’d been heading once more.

He gives them specific directions to where she’d been likely to go.  Megumi listens but doesn’t quite hear a thing he’s saying.  His heart is pounding in his ears, his body is going hot, and even once his feet are moving on their own accord- apparently having understood the directions just fine without his ears- he frets that he might break down into a panic attack if he’s not quick enough.  

The warning signs are there, the labored breaths, the hot and cold flashes in quick succession, his blurring vision- but he ignores all of it, racing through what was left of the crowd to slip into the near empty corridor.  Yuuji is hot on his tail as they dart through, eyes moving in all directions at every doorway and passerby, just to be sure that they wouldn’t miss her.

“(y/n)?” 

Her name leaves his mouth in a strangled choke of syllables, as though it were his first time speaking in months.  

She hadn’t been facing his direction, her hand still on the handle of the door she was about to open.  Her movements had been rushed, like she were hoping to sneak into the room and lock the door behind her as quickly as possible.

But now, as her hand stilled and a chill shot up her spine at the familiar voice, her movements were far too slow as she turned towards the owner of said voice.

Megumi and Yuuji are standing a few feet down the hall, their heavy footsteps having skid to a stop when they finally did see her.  She’s closer to them now than she had been in the ring, and although she still wore the mask, she was far more recognizable now.

Her hand trembles as she raises a hand to her head, pulling at the black material of her mask until it gives way, sliding off her head and pooling in the palm of her hand, revealing her face completely now.

Her eyes were wide as they moved between Yuuji and Megumi slowly, disbelief written in her features from the way her brows drew together, to the part in her lips but no words coming out, to the way her eyes began to water as they snapped back into reality and began to move closer to her.

“Megumi?” She drops his name in a mumble, barely audible even to herself, but seeing him here, right now, has her in such a state of shock that she could have believed Panda threw her around too rough and now she was experiencing delusions.

But then she’s moving too, her feet shuffling at first before picking up pace and running towards them once she’s close enough that she didn’t even need to.

“(y/n)!” Yuuji cheers when they’re huddled close together again.

“Yuuji!” She throws her arms around his neck and hugs him tight, rocking back and forth in bliss upon seeing her beloved friend safe and before her now.

When they part, Megumi still hasn’t figured out what it is he should even say.  He doesn’t know where to start, doesn’t know what to do with his hands, and suddenly feels so anxious he worries he might throw up.  To his luck, (y/n) acts before he has to, and she’s giving him the same warm welcome.

Her arms are tight around his shoulders, and her fingers curl into the material at the back of his uniform jacket.  She gathers the fabric in her fists, making sure that he won’t pull away until she’s squeezed every bit of comfort out of his embrace as possible.

And to her surprise, he returns to affection with more force than she would’ve thought.  One arm around her waist, keeping her snug against his chest, the other laying upwards against her spine so that he could bury his hand in her hair and cradle her head close to him.  He’s shaking, she can feel it, and she pushes closer until her face is buried against his shoulder, hoping to ease his panic.

“We- I thought-” He gasps between struggling breaths, and she’s never heard him sound so broken.  He drops his head so his lips hover over her ear when he finds his voice again.  “I thought you were dead” 

Her heart spikes with an odd feeling, and she squeezes him a little harder before pulling back.

“Alive as ever” She says with a weak smile and an awkward shrug of her shoulders.

Megumi has to shove his hands into his pockets to hide their obvious trembling.  The rush of adrenaline in his system hadn’t quite worn off yet, and at this rate he wasn’t sure that it would.

“Well what happened?” Yuuji asked.  “How’d you end up here?”

She lets out a humorless chuckle before wincing.  

“It’s… it’s not an interesting story,” She explains, then beckons with her hand to have them follow her back to her door.  “Here, I sorta have my own space, if you want to come in I can tell you about it, and then you can tell me what you’re doing here, too” 

Yuuji begins a long winded rant right away.  He tells her all about meeting Yuuta and dying again, and despite Megumi sending him a dirty look for going into too much depth about the parts that didn’t matter as much, (y/n) was an attentive listener, taking in every detail and asking him questions, too.  A lot about Yuuta, seeing as she hadn’t crossed paths with him in months, it was good to know he was still out there and on their side.  Yuuji continued on about the culling games, and how they had come here originally looking for Hakari.

“But then we found you and Panda- hey wait, do you know Hakari?” Yuuji asked excitedly.  “Maybe you could talk to him for us-!” 

Her eyes widen with uncertainty, a nervous smile stretching over her lips as she shakes her head quickly.

“I- I don’t know about that,” She tells him.  “He doesn’t really come out much, I think I’ve seen him once since getting here.  I wasn’t exactly trying to get on his radar.  He doesn’t love those affiliated with Jujutsu Tech, you know” 

“What? Why! He must like you, your fight was very entertaining!” Yuuji gushes.  Megumi sends him another look that he ignores.  “And you mastered Black Flash! He’s got to be interested in- ow!” 

Megumi smacked his hand upside the back of Yuuji’s head, making sure this time that he didn’t miss the look he was giving him.  His displeasure wasn’t exactly subtle.  (y/n) laughed through her nose at the pair that hadn’t seemed to change too much in their time apart.

Besides the fact that Yuuji had a few more scars on his face.  And Megumi looked like he had lost a bit of weight.  Besides that, their demeanors hadn’t changed one bit.  For a second at a time, she could pretend things were normal again.

“Go find Panda and tell him our plan,” Megumi orders gruffly.  “See if he has any ideas on how to get Hakari to see us” 

“What? But-!” 

Megumi widened his eyes, silently telling Yuuji to go.  The pink haired boy huffed, but stood from his seat on the floor and shuffled towards the door.

“And keep a low profile!” Megumi called, only for Yuuji to wave him off nonchalantly before shutting the door behind him.

(y/n) chuckled when it was just the two of them, turning to face him again.

“So,” She breathes out a heavier exhale than she’d expected.  “How’s he really holding up?” 

“How you’d expect,” Megumi replies honestly.  “It was really rough for a while.  We all were… pretty messed up.  Still are, I guess” 

(y/n) frowns.

“Yeah,” She mumbles.  “Shibuya… was…” She drops her head before she could finish her thought.  There wasn’t a word strong enough to explain the devastation of the incident.

Megumi’s fingers begin to twitch, fiddling and locking together as he thought over what he wanted to say next.

“Look, before we…” He starts, but loses momentum quickly.  He clears his throat to try again.  “When I last saw you, I-” 

“It’s okay,” (y/n) cuts him off before he could say anything more.  The face he makes is uncertain, and she gives him a nod as she repeats herself.  “Really, Megumi, it’s okay.  It was just a fight, it didn’t mean anything” 

“But I-” He starts, only for her to shake her head again.  “But it did mean something” He argues.

“We fought a lot, Megumi,” (y/n) chuckles.  “Trust me, if I was holding onto resentment over every time we ever argued, you wouldn’t be sitting here right now” 

“No- not like that,” Megumi shakes his head.  “It meant something because you left and I- I didn’t think I’d ever see you again, (y/n),” His voice holds a grave tone that has her kind smile faltering and her brows pinching together as she watches him.  “Yuuji said he lost track of you when you were dealing with all the transfigured humans and- and then you were just gone” 

(y/n) blinks, her mouth opening and closing a few times as she realizes just how long it had been since they’d seen each other.  How long he must’ve carried around guilt and grief over her.  It makes her heart sink, and she shuffles forward on her knees to sit closer to him.

“I got dragged out of the train station pretty quick,” She tells him.  “There were so many of… them… and I knew that I was worrying Yuuji while exorcizing them.  Cause- cause it didn’t feel like exorcizing,” 

Megumi nods, recalling how Yuuji had told him she’d been crying during the whole ordeal, something quite out of character for her.  Even now as her eyes begin to tear up, the sight is alarming.

“It felt like… like killing,” She whispers.  “So I started leading them away and got outnumbered and got dragged out further.  By the time I… once they were all gone, I was out of it.  I must’ve passed out or something, because when I came to, Shibuya was… gone.  I tried finding you- I tried finding anyone-” She tries to catch her wording, but she’s not quick enough.  “But it was just rubble and dust.  It was nothing.  After a while of trying to find somewhere to land to… to rest and regain some strength, I found this place and Panda with it and I just… stayed.  It sort of started to feel like this is all that was left,” 

She lets out a shaky sigh, rubbing her clammy hands over her thighs to relieve some of the stress building up in her body.  It doesn’t do much, but she continues the action a few more times.

“You know, I didn’t necessarily think I’d ever see you again, either,” Her eyes are downcast as she speaks.  “For a while I wondered, um, if you’d show up here…” 

“Sorry it took so long,” Megumi replies quietly.  She lets out a short, watery chuckle.  “But we’re here now,” He adds, moving closer to her, until she looks up at him, surprised by the sudden close proximity.  Her eyes are wide as they flicker quickly over his face, trying to read his expression.

It was a new one for Megumi, one she’s not sure she’s ever seen on him before.  Except maybe the night in the infirmary, when he’d stitched up her arm.  Her face feels warm, and she can’t decide if it’s because of the memory, or if it’s because of how close he is to her.

“And I’m not going anywhere without you” He tells her.  His voice is low, but instinctively, she doesn’t feel a shroud of doubt in his words.

She blinks to try to rid the tears from her eyes, but after reliving the last week and a half, and reuniting with the people she’d been naively hoping were just missing and not gone was starting to get on top of her.  She’d spent quite some time shoving down bitter thoughts and choosing to stay in denial.  As long as she focused on her matches and made enough of an earning to have a place to crash, she tried to stay as blissfully ignorant as possible.

Still, there had been a few sleepless nights when she’d wander outside and try to find a few constellations in the sky, or when she’d lay wide awake and let the tip of her finger trace over the perfectly straight scar on her shoulder.

“Really?” 

The question comes out with a shaky breath.  She held no uncertainty in him, Megumi was a man who was always true to his word, but reality was beginning to settle in and the urge to hold on to him and never let go was growing stronger.

Megumi nods, clearly amused that she even had to ask.  It felt like the first time in a long time that a smile began to twitch on his lips, the muscle feeling awkward from underuse.  His eyes gleam as he reiterates his intentions.

“We’re not splitting up again,” He tells her, a weight hanging on to each word.  His eyes move between hers, and when she blinks, a tear sticks to her lashes.  “I’m not losing you again” He adds in a smaller voice.

A choked sound that almost sounded like a laugh comes out of her as she nods back at him, shaky and fast.  For once, agreeing with him completely.

To (y/n), there had always been something about Megumi that drew her to him.  He was easy to pick on, easy to tease and laugh at.  She found joy in their banter, even when it was less petty and more serious, there was a magnetic spark between them that she just couldn’t deny.  She’d tried to explore that feeling, before Shibuya.  But she’d never known how exactly to approach it, always becoming apprehensive of the foreign feeling.

Now, it felt so easy to jump into the unknown territory that she felt silly for never having worked up the courage to do so before.  The fear of losing someone she cared so much about was too great, and there was no time to waste.

Her tear dropped onto her cheek, the fat droplet rolling slowly across her skin until it dipped into the edge of her wobbly smile.  A few more followed shortly after, unable to be stopped no matter how hard she willed herself not to cry.

Just as she raised the back of her hand to hastily rub the wetness away, Megumi beat her to it, moving closer to her as both hands worked softly to catch each tear.  They were cold against the hot wet skin, just as she’d remembered, and she found herself shutting her eyes and leaning into how comforting they felt.  The tears didn’t stop, but she didn’t seem to be in any anguish.

“I’m not losing you again either,” She whispers, her fingers skimming over his wrist before she clasps her hand around it, making sure he doesn’t pull away just yet.  “I- I can’t” The words come out in a small whimper.

Megumi nods in understanding.  His thumbs swiping across her cheekbones, and softly under her eyes, trying to catch every last tear.

“I know,” He says softly, still nodding as his eyes wander her features, making sure there weren’t any lingering tears he’d missed.  “I know, and you won’t, ‘m not goin’ anywhere” 

When their eyes lock again, she’s overwhelmed by an influx of emotion.  An eagerness to have him back by her side, a desire to keep him there next to her and never let him go, to never let anything take him away again.

“Listen, ‘gumi, I-” She tries to put words to the feeling, wanting to explain to him that having him here with her was sending her heart into orbit, wanting to tell him that knowing he was alive and he was okay was the first time she’d felt happiness in what seemed like weeks.

But the words are too difficult.  They’re too big and they get caught in her throat.  Rather than try to force them out, she acts on it instead.

Megumi anticipates the movement before she leans forward, catching the way her eyes rapidly shift between his and his mouth.  He reciprocates the look, curious to see if it meant what he’d thought it did, but just as quickly as his eyes land on her parted lips, she’s shooting forward and pressing them against his.

It’s a rushed kiss at first, full of anxiety and grief that hadn’t fully been relieved yet.  It’s  messy lips and clashing teeth, but once they both realize that whatever this feeling was, it was reciprocated, they relaxed.

Megumi sighs through his nose as he cups her cheeks and keeps her close, kissing her a little more softly, a little more deliberate in his need to display to her just how much he’d missed her.  In turn, (y/n’s) hands rest against his shoulders, squeezing just firm enough that he could feel her there, without being too aggressive.

Kissing her like his life depended on it made him feel like everything could turn out alright now that she was with him again.  Now that he was sure she was here, feeling the heat in her cheeks, and her soft breaths against his cheek, Megumi thinks his life had depended on this.

Up until about an hour ago he’d been mentally checked out since Shibuya.  Seeing her again brought him back a sense of purpose he hadn’t even really noticed he’d been losing.

Her hands are gentle when they card into his hair, combing softly through the dark locks that seemed a little longer since the last time she’d seen him.  He sighed at the sensation, unintentionally breaking their kiss.

The tips of his hair tickle her skin as his forehead drops to rest against hers.  (y/n) lets out a soft, breathless giggle before opening her eyes.

He’s smiling at her.  So full of delight that his blue eyes seem to gleam, and they’re crinkled at their corners.  She can’t help but smile back at him, her heart full and her face warm, even with his cool hands still holding it.

Megumi moves then, fingers catching a loose strand of hair.  He twirls it thoughtfully for a moment before tucking it behind her ear carefully, and laying his palm across her cheek again.  His long fingers splay out, wanting to touch as much of her as he possibly can, just to keep sure that she really is in front of him.

“No more runnin’ off, alright?” He murmurs, the tip of his nose grazing hers.

Her hands latch behind his neck, her focus on his lips as she thinks about kissing him again.  They linger there for a moment before shyly meeting his gaze again.

“Don’t let me go again” 

He shakes his head, a silent vow to never do anything to push her away again, and even if he fails to keep her by his side, he swears he’d follow her, wherever she may go.

With his eyes falling shut he leans in again, lips grazing hers as he speaks.

“I won’t,” He murmurs, and then once more before he seals their lips again. “I won’t” 

She could never part from him again.  She loved him too much to even conceive the idea.  What was next to come would be difficult, she may not have known Hakari very well personally, but she knew enough to be anxious about approaching him.  He was a bit of a loose cannon.  However she was sure that with Megumi- and Yuuji and Panda of course- they would come up with the right plan of action to gain his help.

With needy hands and a needier heart she clings to him now, just to be sure that she could never look back and regret not holding onto him tight enough.  He does the same, dropping his hands to circle his arms around her waist and pull her in impossibly close to him.

Whatever it took, he’d keep hold of her for the rest of their lives.  Nothing could ever take her from him again as long as she was right there in his arms.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[ i got you where i want you // you did it, i never // i’m falling for forever ]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

xoxo ~ jordie

[sukioyakio]

His little Stress Relief

genre: fluff just fluff,(the title doesn’t sound fluffy to me,it probably the amount of amount of smut I read 🤷‍♀️😔🤪💖 Will have some bit of angst

SUMMARY: Sometimes your 6’9 foot tall man can be an little bit clingy at times.

Author note: “I just love me an big Buffy guy being such an clingy and cuddly guy towards their girlfriend (I’m not forgetting about my guys here)anyway I’ve been changing the way how my intro a lot 😭😔🤪.”

ANYway hope you like it.

It was an very busy stressful week for Miguel,everything and everyone was annoying him.The entire spider society was just so stressful to deal with,and when he didn’t have to deal a lot,those stuipd anomaly kept popping up,left and right.

But knowing miguel,he deals with it pushing his body to the limit.He will protect the spider society no matter what,But that doesn’t make him tried and exhausted from working,fighting,yelling at people who get on his skin.The achy scars and bruises on his skin were an pain to deal with.And right now He was in his office or bat cave whatever people says,he was standing on his platform with holograms around.Grumbling about to Lyla to tell some of the spiders that they have an mission to do,and him typing out the information about these anomalies.

peter b Parker who was walking with Jessica drew,they were coming back from their mission,and were going towards to Miguel little bat cave.

“Ughhh,it’s been such a busy week” Peter says in a tired voice,as he stretches his back and his shoulders.

“Oh c’mon now,at least your not the one who has to collect all the mission reports”Jessica says with an annoyed look on her face,sighing at the work that she will have to do later.As she rubs her swollen stomach walking towards Miguel office.

Peter just let out an amused scoff out,as they were walking down the hallway towards the BIG BOSS.

“Don’t you think Miguel would let us slack off for a day!! I haven’t seen my lovely wife and daughter”peter says with a whiny voice,as he made a loud dramatic sigh.

Jessica sigh with a playful smirk on her lips. “Aye man at least after this,we can take a long ass break,cuz my ass need it”She says with a sarcasm,as she let out a chuckle.

Peter suddenly remembered how much Miguel calmed down he was after his wife when Peter asked her if she could come over to talked (helped) him out with Miguel.In which peter had that dorky grin that only means that he had another wonderful idea.

In which Jess turned to look at peter face and saw that grin which in her mind means “he gonna get his ass kick again”,but right before she could say anything to Peter.

“Gotta go bye for now— I’ll be back!” As he zapped off to where Miguel’s wife was.

“DONT do!!— something that will get your ass in the hospital” Jess says in an loud tone but soon lower as she get more closer to Miguel office,she always says that his office is so far away,she rolls her eyes to the back of her head,and letting an scoff out her lips.

She enters Miguel man cave,her heavy but professional steps could be heard from the man who was standing up on his little platform,As she walks in an steady pace and was finally met with Miguel batman era.She stands an few steps ahead but wasn’t quite at the edge of the cliff.She looks up at Miguel,with her one of her hands on her hips and the other one was rubbing her pregnant stomach.

“Ahem” She says loud enough for him to put down his attention from all the work he was doing and putting himself through.Miguel eyes have this dark circles under his eyes,you can tell that this men take his dedication and time for all he does for.But there time where all he takes is to come home to his lovely wife,who his stress reliever.But he does this so people doesn’t have the same fate as him or try to do what he did,nor to do anything that would cause them any harm.

He turned his head towards Jessica,looking down at her,with a sternly expression on his face.He clicked something on his watch to make the platform start moving down towards the ground,very . . . Slowly. very slowly.Jessica wasn’t bothered by it at all,it just meant that she had a time to herself to calm down and free her mind from work.

And in which off letting the platform on the ground nope,he just kept it fairway there,and so he looked at Jess with a sternly and serious expression,and that instantly imitating persona he had.

“Bueno, ¿cómo fue la misión?,and where the hell is Peter”Miguel says in an seriously voice,as one of his eyes brow raises up in question of where would that idiot of the worlds most talkative person you would ever meet,would be possibly be.As he stares at Jess for an good minute before letting out an annoyed sigh,pinching the bridge of his very strong nose,grunting at how much of an goof ball peter is.

“Well I came here to say that the mission was a success,but the part with Peter,better watch out for him and don’t kill him we need him” she says with an playful laugh as she walks out the door with an open smile on her face.

To which Miguel rolls his eyes to back of his head,and went back to work and there he was back working in his bat cave.Calling Layla to inform him about any updates about the anomaly’s,and to inform the other spider in the spider society.Some times layla would be annoying (an tease) to him.But after an hour or so,(peter was having difficulty finding which house is Miguel house) Peter finally came with you into Miguel office,with his cheeky techniques.

Miguel didn’t even get a chance to react to when Peter opened the portal onto his platform.

“Hello!!Big Boss” peter say with a cheerful voice,having a bright smile on his lips.”Look who I brought with him”he says with a warm smile.

The moment he turned around he saw you,with Peter.Holding a worry smile on your face.While peter was standing there with a cheeky expression,Miguel let out an annoyed sigh towards peter.He face was turning more angry then before,his eyes turning the color red.

“¡¡Por qué carajo!!Did you bring my wife here WITHOUT MY DAWN MALDITO permission!” He says with a raging voice,practically shaking the ground,easily making peter gulped down his own saliva.”im soooooooooo getting my ass in an hospital bed” peter said in his head of thoughts.

But luck was on his side for now. . .

“Peter go back doing work I’ll have a little chat with my husband”you said softly as ever to him,with a calmly smile.Giving him a look that gesture for him to leave.In which he did,He left with an awkward chuckle,and he gone.

Now you and Miguel were now alone in his big bat cave.Miguel aromatically regretted for having you see him get angry at his co worker.He hated for you to see him anger,he was insecure about how you felt about him.You words were the light of joy to his ears,but your words could be the ones that made him feel trapped.If he ever told you that he’ll be so vulnerable towards you his wife.Your the thing,the love,the drug,the crave,the addiction that he would never get over.

He was probably over thinking for a while,that he woke up from your reassuring touch.Pulling him to the ground so he could lay down on your thighs.He would do anything for you.

“Until death due us apart”

Now you both are on the floor on Miguel floating platform in silence;comforting silence.

You were sitting upright while patting,scratching, rubbing your hands against Miguel scalp.He looks like a little boy who only wanted to be next to his mama.After a few more minutes of the comfortable silence.You knew that he was very insecure about himself,especially after getting married and even before getting married,when you two were boyfriend and girlfriend,you knew he had some insecurities.

“Miguel I love you . .” You says with a calmly voice,calming him down.

Signal him to talk about what happened during this week

He instantly opened up about what happened at work,and all the exhaustion he endured,and the BS he gotten this week,basically vented about how much work and Be an hero was like a curse and an blessing.

He had that Grumpy Pouty on his beautiful lips,he just an enough of laying on the floor-ahem platform,and So he pulls you down on the floor,as he lays comfortably on tops of you.

You let out a light headed chuckles,He was your big scary,intimidating husband who can break any guys bones,but right now he’s acting very clingy with you.

You let him know that your love him so much,that seeing him like this pains you slowly but deeply in your heart.He was laying on top of your chest,in between of your breast.Letting him melt all his problems away.

“I’m sorry. . .no lady should have to seen what had happened with my co worker” he says with his eyes closed not wanting to be seen vulnerable.

As he continues to mumble apologies,to the point that he says like a whiny child.You couldn’t help but laugh at him being a whiny cringy child.

“What so funny about me apologizing,mhmm cariño”he said to you as he raised his head to look at your eyes. Seeing you laugh,seeing you felt like the world was pause,his body felt so calm.

“Ha-ha,your are my clingy hobby.You could be one whiny old man.” You said with a playfully voice,as you felt him lift your body put you into his laps.You couldn’t help but smile at him.

“I’m not an old man,nor a whiny kid.Im literally just 3 years older then you” Miguel says with a whiny voice,as he rolls his eyes.

You know he love it.You already know that he’s ok,that he is no more tense.

“I still love you gramps” you said as you leaned towards his face to give him a passionate kiss,which he accepted.Love was felt through your body.

as you both end the kiss,leaning on each other forehead.

“I love you” you said softly with a warm smile.

“Yo también” he says softly with a warm smile.

THE END

I hope y’all like it,and I probably suck explaining the positions of them but IM trying 😄 anyway I hope y’all enjoy it,but I low key think I put so much fluff here

THE QOUTE OF THE DAY: by an friend

“THE day can be boring when nothing eventful happens”

✌️

[loverofstufflof]

Ways to consume Journey to the West (without needling to buy and read a full translation)!

I’ve noticed that a lot of people can’t read the book for a lot of different reasons, so I’ve compiled a couple of my favourite ways of consume the story while bypassing these problems, categorized by the various issues I’ve come across.

Note that this is mainly for English speakers, as that’s the language I default to for translations.

The book is too inaccessible/expensive for me to obtain physically

Journey to the West Research has an entire blog post dedicated to compiling free PDF versions of the book. This includes many languages, not just English.

I struggle with reading text in that quantity

There are abridged versions of the story, my personal favourite is the one by Julie Lovell—it’s approximately a quarter of the original story’s length, and mainly focuses on the most iconic chapters. These versions are also typically more easily found in local bookstores.

I struggle with reading novels in general

The story has been converted into audio form! Here are the ones off the top of my head, each listed with their own pros and cons:

Journey to the West: An Audio Drama Series is an original translation told in a read-aloud format, in which the host, Lin, acts as a kindly librarian reading to a group of awaiting 1st graders. She gives every character a distinct voice and personality, and she’s obviously delighted to be able to share her culture with the listeners. The show used to have free translation notes, where Lin gets to act as a disgruntled translator going on about the intricacies of the Chinese language and historical/mythological contexts, but these now require a subscription to access. This show is the reason why I know how to pronounce these characters’ names.

Legends Summarized: The Journey to the West by Overly Sarcastic Productions is one that I’m sure I don’t need to include (because of how widespread it is) but feel I should because someone is gonna mention is anyways. It’s a very summarized, very sarcastic retelling of Red’s favourite chapters in the book, accompanied by fun visuals and the excitement of someone who clearly knows and loves what they’re talking about. As Red has said herself, this series should not be your only source of JTTW knowledge, as she simplifies it a ton to make it more digestible. Great for people who are just getting into the story and want a general overview, not great for people who want a more in-depth understanding of the themes and other complexities.

Journey of the Monkey King is a podcast akin to a longform, more in depth version of the OSP series. It consists of two Irish comedians discussing one chapter per episode; one of them (Caoimhe) has read the book, the other (MJ) hasn’t. The format is mainly Caoimhe giving a comedic abridged version of the chapter while MJ gawks in horror at whatever absurdity the Monster-of-the-Week presents. Because it’s hosted by Irish people, there isn’t much cultural context given, and some names are butchered, however I do find this one a lot easier to follow in comparison to the Audio Drama Series, and it’s far more detailed than Legends Summarized.

Journey to the West English Amateur Audiobook is one that is on my radar but have not started. To my current knowledge, it is an audiobook version of the WJF Jenner translation, which is notable to me because most of these types of podcasts are derived from the Anthony C Yu translation, so this one would be a nice listen to compare how the two went about handling the text.

Please know that this post isn’t intended to shame anyone into consuming the story; it’s not for everyone! But I’ve come across my fair share of aspiring fans who couldn’t access the book in a way that suited them (including myself) so I wanted to make this knowledge more generally know for anyone else who might need it :]

[saberlight1]

exit music (for a film) — coriolanus snow

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

warnings: slight tbosas spoilers, mentions of past abuse, trauma, violence, ptsd, established relationship, reader almost gets assaulted, Y/N usage, possessive!snow, a toxic ex attacks you, hints towards past sexual assault, standard ballad of songbirds and snakes warnings.

authors note: soo i was needing some comfort, and i realized there are not a lot of hurt & comfort fics for coryo!! this is a big injustice so i decided to write this. just a fair warning: this fic contains themes that can be hard for some people to read; including sexual assault and domestic violence. if you aren’t comfortable with these topics, feel free to go read some of my other coryo stories here! i hope you all enjoy this, much love<3.

masterlist

When you first laid eyes upon the white-haired boy, you didn’t think he’d become as important to you as he is now. He was assigned to be your mentor in the Hunger Games, and you were slightly relieved when you saw him standing at the train station, waiting for you.

Although you were both cautious of the other, coming from different, yet similar lands. But once you warmed up to him, you never wanted to part.

After the arena got bombed with you all in it, Coriolanus getting injured aand trapped, you stayed behind even if there was a clear opening for you to run— because you found yourself caring for him.

He had protected you so far, treating you with kindness and respect as he guided you through this hellish period in your life. So you had to do the same. Anyways, that was what told yourself when you risked everything to stay back and attempt to help him.

You brushed your hair behind your ears, ignoring the stinging pain in your side from being burnt as you started off into a sprint towards the boy who was crying out in pain, the pole he was trapped under catching fire.

“Coriolanus!” You called out as you neared him. “I’m here, I’m here.” You tried to soothe him as you tried to push the pole off of him.

He let out a sigh of relief at the sight of your face, and almost looked confused at your act to help him.

After a moment of struggle, you finally got the pole away from him, but it had got him badly. You immediately bent down to his level, your hands going to cradle his face softly, he leaned into it.

“Oh, are you alright?” You whispered, his shaky hands coming out to grip your wrists, rubbing softly in thanks. “I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner, I—” You did your best to explain, but you were cut off by a sharp grip on your arm, dragging you away from him. The boy reached out for you as you were taken away, only making your heart sink further into your stomach.

“No!” You thrashed in their hold, but to no avail. You watched your mentor lose consciousness from the pain as you could do nothing to help him.

And even though you only met him a couple days prior, you realized in that very moment how much you truly did care for him.

That was one of your earliest memories of Coriolanus, the next time you saw him after that was the first time your lips touched. From that night on, you became much more to each other than you ever would’ve guessed.

You sighed, moving from your spot in your window as reality set in. You hadn’t seen the boy in question in over month. He had promised to protect you, and he kept it surely. He cheated to get you out the games, and it ended with him locked up, as you liked to believe. People around twelve said that the Capitol had him killed.

You wished he had left you to die if it meant he’d be free and you the one in the grave. You were in misery in your district, missing your lover deeply. But, alas, you had no choice. And with all the fighting you did in that arena, you refused to give up now.

Even if it meant living without the one you craved most.

You grabbed your bag, another hard breath leaving your lips as you walked out the comfort of your small home that was in the outskirts of District 12. You liked it better that way, being away from it all. When you were younger you used to live down by the Hob, which was located right next to the Hanging Tree.

After years of hearing the grueling sounds of somebody loosing their life, the jabberjays in the wind repeating their loved ones cries, sometimes even their last words, you simply couldn’t bare it anymore.

So you left, opting to live out by the forest and the lake, giving you pockets of peace where you could forget it all. Or, at least the things you tried to forget. Some things seemed to haunt you forever.

You quietly walked into town to go get some food from the Mellark Bakery, your head down and gaze low the whole way. You could feel eyes on you— you always did when you came out of your home. You hated their stares, their judgement, that was the one thing that seemed to haunt you the most.

You finally looked up, meeting eyes with your ex boyfriend who was stood with his friends, a sly smirk being worn on his face. You internally shrank, your steps picking up as you tried to get closer to your destination.

Anxiety flooded your bloodstream as you heard loud, hard footsteps pick up behind you, sounding as if they were only inching closer and closer. Your eyes screwed shut as you felt like you were back in the arena again, your flight or fight instincts kicking in.

You tried to calm yourself down, repeating the words ‘It’s all in your head’ like a mantra under your breath. You had recently been plagued with the worst paranoia and anxiety, and the only reason of why you could think of was because of the time you spent in that godforsaken arena. Most of the time you felt as if you being hunted, all of the horror you felt when you were in that arena never leaving your nervous system.

Most days you had to talk yourself out of a panic attack, little things setting you off and sending you into a 20 minute state of panic. It was normal to you by now, and that is what you thought was happening.

Until a harsh grip yanked you out of your head, dragging you into an alley and pinning you to a wall. A loud yelp left your lips as you hit the wall, taking you a moment to process what was happening.

When you looked up, the pit in your stomach only grew further as an overwhelming sense of dread came over you. Your ex-boyfriend, Jay, was standing over you with that same soulless smile that used to haunt your dreams.

“My, Y/N. It’s been a mighty long time since I done seen you around here.” He taunted, his hot breath hitting your face, causing your eyes to screw shut as the past memories of him doing this very same thing to you swirled around your brain. “Thought after you got a taste of the Capitol.. of that Coriolanus Snow,” he said with disgust on his tone. “That you thought you were too good f’me. For Twelve.” He spat, harshly.

It was funny how with a few words he could turn you right back into that naive girl he manipulated all those years ago. You cowered in fear, refusing to look him the eye.

“Jay, please..” You whispered, your head turned away from him in an attempt to get as far away as possible. “Just let me go, please. I won’t come back around here, I swear.” You begged, tears filling your closed eyes as you fought for your composure.

“Nah, girl.” He whispered back, getting so close to you that you could feel his breath on your cheek. “I’m gon’ do what I want with you, like old times.”

Your eyes shot open his words. “No, God, please, no.” The tears fell from your eyes as you continued to plea with him.

“Oh, c’mon, Y/N.” He coldly smiled. “You used to be fun,”You felt his grip on your forearms travel back down to your hips, squeezing. The act left a bad taste in your mouth, making you want to throw up. You sobbed as you prepared yourself for what was coming, wishing you had just stayed cooped up in your home.

Your wails from the alley only increased in volume as his touch began to move downward. “Shut the fuck up,” He hissed, his hand slapping over your mouth. You prayed to whatever God was above, wishing he would just kill you now.

And just as his hand ghosted over the waistband of your skirt, the man’s touch disappeared all together, being replaced with the sound of someone hitting the floor.

You opened your tear-stained eyes slowly to find your attacker on the ground, and in a flash of throwing punches you saw that white hair adorned by the boy you adored so much.

You stood there in shock as you watched Coriolanus, who now wore a Peacekeeper’s uniform with a shaved head, beat Jay into a pulp. Tears still left your eyes as you slid down the wall, your knees coming up to your chest as you began to process what almost just happened to you.

Anxiety took your breath from your lungs as the panic finally began to set in once you realized you were safe. Your vision started to go blurry with tears as the will to breathe got harder.

“Hey, hey.” Coriolanus appeared in your line of vision, his hands wiping the tears from your face. “I’m here, you’re alright, baby.” He sighed before sitting down next to you and bringing you into his arms. You dug your head into the crook of his neck, hugging him close.

“Did he hurt you?” He asked, his hand on the back of your head, rubbing softly. He tried his best to comfort you, and tried to calm the fiery rage he felt when he saw that man on top of you.

“N—No,” You shakily got out. “He.. he tried to—”

Coriolanus’ head fell to your shoulder, hugging you just as tight as a sigh of relief left his lips. He had been walking by when he first heard your pleas with that man, and he dropped everything and ran at the sound of your voice. When he saw that man on top of you, the muffled sobs leaving your lips, your eyes screwed shut— God, he saw red. He would be lying if he didn’t say he didn’t miss you in the time you were apart.

Your body shook with your sobs, the boy’s heart hurting of the sight of you this upset. “Shh, you’re safe. I’m here,” He repeated, leaving kisses on your face, neck, and shoulders whilst he whispered sweet nothings in your ear in an attempt to calm you.

Once you somewhat calmed down you pulled back slightly, just to make sure he was real.

“Oh, Coryo,” You cried, your forehead resting on his. “Thank you, thank you.”

He swallowed the lump in his throat as he took in your state. He had never seen you like this, so scared, so vulnerable. The sight of it only made him bring you back into his arms, holding you impossibly closer.

“I’ve got you, my love.” He hushed your cries, leaving another kiss on your head. “No one’s gonna hurt you if I’m with you, it’s okay now.” You wrapped your legs around his waist as he stood up, you still in his arms. He placed you down slightly, his hands angling your jaw up so you’d look at him. “C’mon, let’s go to your house. Get you away from this piece of shit,” he pointed to the bloodied face of Jay who was unconscious on the ground. You nodded, trying to pull yourself together, your eyes flickering back to Jay to make sure he was still knocked out.

Sensing your anxieties, he pulled you back into his arms for once last hug. “Shh,” He rubbed your back. “You’re alright. He won’t hurt you, I won’t let him.” He comforted, leaning down to kiss your tears away. His movements made you smile as you sucked in a breath before you lead him out the alley and to your home.

Once you arrived and walked through the doors, it felt as if a weight was lifted off your shoulders. You were finally home, and you had Coryo with you.

Your heart felt full as it sank in that you were finally reunited with him, with Coryo. You got him back. A smile was on your face, despite your previous cries as you turned back towards the man who shared a similar smile to yours as he looked around at your home, and launched yourself into his arms.

He chuckled slightly, hugging you back like a delicate flower in his palm. After a moment of holding each other, you pulled back again, your hands cupping his cheeks. “I thought you were dead, Coryo. I thought.. oh, I thought they took you from me.” You sighed, leaning forward to connect your lips with his for the first time in months. You poured all of the longing, all of the tears, and emotion into that kiss, trying to show all your love with just an action.

He smiled against your lips, his hands on your hips being comforting as he leaned forward, tilting his head to deepen it. When the pair of you pulled apart for air, the smiles stayed.

“You should know by now that I’ll always find you, Y/N.” He joked, tucking hair behind your ear.

“Good,” You left one last peck to his lips, before going grabbing his hand and leading him to your bed. After all of the crying you had done in the past hour, all you wanted to do was lay with him.

He instantly knew what you were trying to do, a love-sick smile on his face as he laid down next to you, pulling you into his chest. You giggle as you settled in, your hand tracing patterns into his undershirt.

“I missed you,” He whispered after a while of quiet, looking down at you.

Blush dusted your cheeks as you rolled on your stomach to give him your full attention, your chin on his chest. “I missed you, too. Probably more.”

He smiled at your words, his hand coming up to grip yours lovingly, rubbing his thumb across the back of your hand. “You’re beautiful,” He said after a beat of silence, admiring you in the candlelight.

You smiled at his words. “You’re prettier, Snow.” Your gaze flickered down to your laced fingers, noticing his cut and bruised knuckles.

“Oh, Coryo,” You sat up slightly, bringing his hand with you to get a closer look. “I’m sorry—”

“Don’t apologize. That wasn’t your fault. I’m alright, baby, doesn’t even hurt that bad.” He tried to talk you down, a soft smile still on his face.

“Thank you, I mean it.” You met his eye. “I don’t know what would’ve happened if you didn’t save me.” You swallowed the growing lump in your throat. “You always save me.”

It was his turn to blush now, as you bent down to kiss his injured knuckles softly. When you finished he grabbed your jaw softly, bringing your lips to his. He kissed you hard, just like he always did. It seemed like he tried to show how much he loved you with just one simple action, and trust, he accomplished that goal.

You hummed happily against his lips, letting him pull you down on top of him, your lips still connected. When you pulled back for air, he continued to cradle your face, peppering kisses along your jaw.

“You don’t have to thank me.” He whispered, his lips still leaving kisses. “I’ll always be here to protect you.”

You smiled, giggling as you snuggled closer to him. The pair of you had quieted down once again, sleep and comfort taking over your minds.

But you cracked your eyes open one last time, leaning up to leave kisses on his jaw. “I love you, Coryo.”

His eyes opened immediately as he stared down at you in shock, before a soft smile took over his face. “I love you, too.”

And just like that, all you had been longing for was under your fingertips, and you now thanked whatever God was looking down on you for bringing this man into your life.

[magics-neptunes-things]

Collide (3)

Hello everyone!

Before reading this chapter, I would like to point out that what is written here is fiction. Of course no one except Leah and Jordan really know what happened between them and I don't pretend at all to know the truth… No need to send me messages, not necessarily nice in fact, to tell me. And of course, there is no hate here towards Jordan.

Anyway, this chapter is kind of sweat I think and to be honest I didn't know where to stop. The next one while be a little more dark, so enjoy this one :P

In the meantime I wish you a good reading, don't hesitate to leave comments or likes, it’s really encouraging and I love read them.

TW: Angst, lot of fluff I think

PART 1 I PART 2 I PART 4 I PART 5 I PART 6 | PART 7

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The London rain has been falling on your head for many minutes when you finally decide to go ring at Leah’s door. Lights are on despite the fact that it’s almost midnight and a few seconds after ringing you realize that you will perhaps pass for a burglar or scare her. When nobody comes to answer you, seems to become a habit, you knock against the front door with your fist, so that you can make yourself heard if she’s upstairs. "Leah?" After a few seconds you hear footsteps coming behind the door and you step back from a step not to find yourself too close to her when she opens the door. Frowned, hair down and dressed in a gray Nike outfit, Leah doesn’t mask her surprise to find yourself in front of her. But before you have time to say anything, Leah closes the door in your face. You didn’t see that one coming. "What the..." you mumble and knock on the door again. "Get out of there Y/N" Leah’s voice comes to you muffled because of the front door, but if you can hear her, it probably means it’s not very far right? You go up the stairs and lean against the front door, so that she can hear you perfectly. "I just want to talk. Please" you add when she doesn’t answer you. But it’s still silence that answers you and you knock again at the door while calling her. This time Leah says nothing and you automatically go down steps backwards, so that you can look at the facade of the building. You don’t see Leah’s silhouette anywhere behind a window, which means she’s either back in her living room or she’s still behind the door. Anyway, she doesn’t seem to want to talk to you. You are disappointed, you can’t pretend otherwise. But maybe you should have prepared yourself for this possibility.

Leah seems to resent you very much and you understand her perfectly. To hide nothing, you also resent yourself. You shouldn’t have let your ex settle into your head at the worst time, hurting Leah at the same time when she’s probably the top one in the top three people you think of during the day.

You mechanically wipe the rain on your face and sigh softly as you return to your car. You don’t see yourself trying to climb the hedge hiding the garden to look at the living room through the window, it’s a little too intrusive in your eyes. But as you open your car door, you suddenly change your mind. It’s leaking and leaving that twice took you away from Leah and it’s out of question that it happens a third time.

From behind her window curtain however, Leah quietly watched you leave her house’s steps, relieved and disappointed at the same time. She went back to her couch when she saw you go back to your car. So she was very far from expecting to hear you knock again at the door, with more strength and determination than until now. Leah jumps and sighs when she hears your voice rising again, urging her to open you.

"Fuck off" Leah screams from her couch.

"Not until I talk to you" you answer and stop knocking on the door.

When silence answers you again, you hold a sigh and decide instead to speak again.

"I’m not leaving until we talk, Leah."

"Stay and I call the cops."

"Try me" you answer with determination.

Since she doesn’t answer you again, you sit on her doormat, your back leaning against the front door. You are half sheltered from the rain by a small ledge but you decide that you don’t give a shit. The bad news, however, is that the rain is cold, which starts to numb your fingers after about thirty minutes. The good news is that despite her threat, Leah doesn’t seem to have called the police.

You have lost track of time when you hear the door gently opening behind you, bringing a wave of heat and light on you. You’ve had plenty of time to get lost in your thoughts, taking you back to a gloomy time of late adolescence in Norway. But the difficult images quickly fade when your eyes rise on Leah’s face.

She remains silent and a few moments pass before she opens the door bigger and steps back, offering you to join her inside. You hurry in, in case she decides to change her mind.

"Thanks"

You shiver when you get rid of your shoes to not dirty and soak Leah’s house, but you decide to push these sensations into a corner of your head to face the blonde. The look stern and the clenched jaw, she observes you while always keeping silence.

"Above all I wanted to apologize" you start while looking at her, her piercing blue eyes making difficult to sustain her gaze. But you do. "I was stupid to do what I did, and I’ve been thinking about it ever since. I should have done it differently and— I don’t know. At least I shouldn’t have left like I did."

You don’t know which sentence triggered this, but the coldness of Leah’s eyes seems to have descended into her voice when she finally speaks.

"You could have chosen another explanation to make me understand that you are not interested in me"

"It’s not that I’m not interested" you answer, slightly frowning in your turn.

You look at her, hesitating for a few seconds. You are not the type to give yourself easily on your emotions or the feelings you have, especially to the person concerned. But you know that if you don’t do it now, any possibility between you and Leah will no longer exist. This is your last chance.

"The truth is, I’m too interested in you. And it scares me."

Even though you found an observation point somewhere above Leah’s shoulder and your voice is just a whisper, you know that Leah heard what you just said perfectly. There is no noise around you, no TV on and the sound of passing cars is not heard through the windows.

"Do you remember what I told you about Jordan when we talked on your balcony?"

The question makes you turn your attention to her and you feel your heart sinking. You remember it perfectly and you quickly make the connection with your own behavior.

"You told me she was just gone" you whisper without taking your eyes off her. "I'm sorry."

Despite Leah’s different negative emotions right now, she seems relieved to see that you quickly understand what she wanted you to realize. You feel like shit. It’s a good thing you didn’t realize this before, because you probably wouldn’t even come knocking on her door to try to reconcile.

"Let me make it up to you?"

"How?"

Leah seems skeptical and you can understand why. You haven’t yet all the perfectly established plans in your head when you answer, biting your lower lip. But you shoot your shot.

"One date, just you and me. If you have a good time, I get a second."

You feel like you’re hearing Leah’s boiling brain as she thinks and you’re more or less patiently waiting for her answer. No, actually you’re so nervous you’re holding back from throwing yourself at her feet to beg her.

"What if I have a bad time?"

"You can leave when you want" you answer, shrugging.

Leah looks at you thoughtfully a few more moments before she sighs and uncross her arms, letting them fall on either side of her body.

"Okay. But this is your last chance."

********

"Less, I think I’m gonna throw up" you mumble in your phone, waiting for Leah to get out of her house.

"Relax, I’m sure you’ll be fine."

Alessia’s soothing and sweet voice calms you down a bit and that’s especially why you called her instead of someone else. Leila would probably have laughed at you, Laia would have teased you… And Ingrid is currently playing somewhere on a Spanish pitch, winning another game with Barcelona.

Preparing this date was a real headache for you who doesn’t know London particularly well, while Leah grew up there and probably knows the city like the back of her hand. Not to mention that you didn’t give yourself much time to prepare it, but in your defense you were afraid that Leah would change her mind and suddenly refuse to accompany you somewhere. You tried to book a table at "Clos Maggiore" which is apparently known to be the most romantic restaurant in London, but the waiting list is longer than your arm.

You googled things like "Romantic Date Ideas in London" before you realized all these places were probably full of people and tourists. And you don’t particularly want to end up with fifty other people in a London Eye bubble.

"Will you let me know how it went?" asks Alessia, bringing you back to earth.

"Yeah" you just answer nervously. "She's here, I hang up now Less"

"Okay. Talk to you later"

"Bye"

You hang up when Leah locks her door and turns to you. Luckily, the sky is clear today. You smile at the blonde, briefly wondering how to greet her before deciding to kiss her cheek. She lets you and you hurry to open her door to get her into your car.

"Where are we going?" Leah asks, watching the street pass by.

"You’ll see" you answer with an small smile.

Despite your nervousness, you try to launch a topic of conversation that will allow you to relax the atmosphere a little. You get it by passing a tourist spot in London, leading Leah to tell you some of the memories she may have had through the years.

During your conversations, you learned that she was also interested in painting. So, when you learned that a temporary exhibition of a painter you talles about was being organized over the next two weeks, you didn’t hesitate long. It was like it was made on purpose. The tickets being limited, you were lucky enough to have two for you and Leah.

Judging by the blonde’s smile when she finds herself face to face with the poster of the exhibition, you can tell you had a good idea. In fact, she doesn’t hesitate to smile at you.

"Not bad"

You smile back, deeply relieved. And you will be even more so when you see that the conversations are relaxing more and more between you, having very often the same vision of the paitings presented to you. You slightly jump when feeling Leah’s hand on your arm to train towards the next painting at some point in the evening, but you quickly recover. This obviously didn’t escape Leah however.

It’s only two hours later that you come out to see that the night has enveloped London.

"Are you hungry?" You ask Leah when you turn to her.

"I am, I am."

"Perfect. Come on."

This time it’s you who grab her arm to train her in the direction of your car. Leah enters without flinching, questioning you about your Grandfather during the journey. She apparently didn’t forget that it was him who introduced you to the painting’s world.

You stop your car a bit on the heights of London, a place that apparently offers a breathtaking view of the city. And that’s true.

You planned to sit in the trunk of your car if the weather was bad, but since it’s rather clear, you take out a blanket and the picnic basket that you prepared in the afternoon. It’s nothing special, but you just wanted to do things right tonight.

After eating your sandwiches - ham for Leah naturally - you lie down to observe the stars. One of your hands went under your head, but the second one is between you and Leah. As you talk, you gently caress Leah’s fingers with yours. Realizing that she doesn’t move, you take your courage with both hands to intertwine them, sighing of relief when you feel that Leah start stroking your hand with her thumb.

Under the pretext of hearing her better, you put yourself on your side, although in truth it’s mainly to be able to better look at her. Even if you suspected it, the realization hits you hard at this moment. You are deeply in love with Leah. Her blond hair flying in the wind, her blue eyes, her smile, her laughter and even the wrinkles that appear on her face when she laughs and smiles.

After midnight, you park your car in the covered parking lot of your building. You quickly put your things in your apartment, before crossing the hallway and going to Alessia’s. The blonde is already installed in her bed when you enter her room to let you fall next to her, slipping under the covers.

"So?" she asks while resting her phone on the bed.

"I got a second date" you answer, grinning.

********

For the second date, you decided to take Leah to a restaurant that just opened, located right between your two homes. What attracted you is that the tables are separated from each other by curtains, offering you the necessary privacy. After that evening, Leah resumed her normal hours of therapy and training, making you cross paths again on a daily basis.

On the third date, when you take her home, Leah offers to extend the evening by coming to drink something at her place. Of course, you agree. Every extra second you spend with her is a little extra. You kept Alessia, Ingrid, Laia and Leila up to date on your progress about Leah and you. If Leila asked you to be careful, Ingrid advised you to listen to your hunches. And you’re pretty sure Leah enjoys your time together as much as you do, so you continue.

There are physical touches between the two of you, based on intertwined hands or timid strokes, but nothing more for the moment. Which is ok since you want to take your time with her.

"What do you want to drink?" Leah asks as she walks into her kitchen.

"Same thing as you"

Leah comes back with two beers, sitting next to you on the couch to turn on the television. It quickly turns out to be just a background noise, Leah and you finding yourself again caught in a conversation. If these dates have taught you anything, it’s how well you get along.

"I was wondering something" Leah said after you laughed in tears at an anecdote about the blonde’s childhood.

"Tell me?" you answer with a smile, keeping your eyes on her.

"At the party in your apartment, at your stupid drinking game, you said you had three girls"

"Mh. Four now" you precise, leaning your gaze on her, thinking about your kiss.

Leah smiles and rolls her eyes before continuing.

"Were you talking about being in a relationship with her? Because so far you’ve only mentioned your ex from Norway and Alina"

If you shiver when you hear about your first girlfriend, you slap yourself mentally to focus on Leah’s question.

"Oh no, I’ve only been in a relationship with both of them. Why?"

"I was wondering if you’ve been in a relationship with one of your teammates in Manchester."

"Oh, no, not at all. The third person was before Alina. The tattooist who tattooed me in the back."

An amused laugh escapes from Leah hearing this information and you can only smile back.

"This is the most cliché thing I’ve ever heard. You slept with your tattooist?" Leah keeps laughing.

"What? She was so sweat and tender and kind of hot" you defend yourself by shrugging your shoulders, an amused smile always displayed on your face.

"So cliché"

Leah’s answer makes you laugh again as Leah was always laughing, before a little silence settles between you.

"Was she hotter than me?"

Leah’s question, posed with an arched eyebrow and her famouse smirke makes you smile. You have no hesitation in the answer you give her.

"No one is sexier than you"

You don’t know if that’s the answer Leah was looking for, but the way she looked at you after that would probably be enough to knock you over. Instead, you gently slide your fingers across her face. You know what this moment will lead you to, but you nevertheless take the time to cross her eyes again in search of a consent on her part. She made no attempt to stop you, looking at you like you’re the only thing that’s matter. Leah never tries to kiss you again and you’re convinced it’s because of the two times you’ve pushed her away. So it makes sense that you take the first step this time.

And this time, when you lips connect, it feels different. Good different. Naturally just as pleasant and ennobling as the first times, but there is no alcohol abuse, no one around you or anything that would prevent you from enjoying this kiss.

It’s just you and Leah.

The blonde soon answers your kiss, her hands sliding on your body to bring you closer to her. First tender and delicate, your embrace becomes more passionate and deep when the kisses are chained. You don't want to stop, these sensations that you have never experienced until now quickly becoming addictive.

It’s Leah who stops first this time, a few minutes after lying on her couch to have better access to you.

"We have to stop now, or we’re going to pass the Take it slow that we fixed"

You make a pouty face when you hear her, making her laugh gently before kissing your cheek. But you know that’s the truth.

"You’re right" you sigh softly. "I better go"

"You’d better" confirms Leah without moving.

In truth, you need several more minutes and kisses to finally get off each other. Leah gently walks you to the front door and even to your car. The street is deserted but you prefer not to tempt the devil by kissing her one last time.

"Hey Y/N?" said Leah, leaning over your window when you start your car. "Next date is on me."

********

When the Christmas holidays arrive, you and Leah continued to share moments just for the two of you, exchanging many kisses during those moments, but never anything more. It has almost arrives several times, but one of you has always managed to find reason quickly enough. You don’t really know what signal you both expect, but you’re still on the same page and that’s all that matters. You both want your first time to be perfect.

Your bond and what’s going on between you is hard to hide in everyday life, so most of your teammates know. Alessia has always been your confidante about Leah anyway, and so has Lia on the blonde side. Manuela, Kyra and Katie are having fun teasing you, but even if you act like it annoys you, it’s not really the case. You can’t get mad at something that makes you happy like you’ve never been before.

Christmas is coming, it’s time for you to go back to Norway and find your family. You first thought about taking an Uber to the airport, before Leah scoled you and said it was her job to take you there. You took the time to help Alessia puts her impressive mountain of suitcases in her car before she left for the east of England with her family, before taking the road to the airport.

You are a little sad to be separate with Leah to be truth, her daily closeness being something you were more than used to. For her part, the blonde will spend her holidays with her family, as usual. But she also seems elsewhere during the trip, a silence settling in her car.

After checking in your luggage, you wait as long as possible before passing the security, just to extend your time with Leah. You didn’t put a label on your relationship, neither of the two having asked the other officially if she wanted to be her girlfriend.

But when it’s time for you to part with Leah if you don’t want to miss your plane, the hug you exchange leaves no doubt to the people around you. You smile softly as you feel Leah burying her face in your neck and hair, the same gesture she had the times she woke up after you fall asleep together.

"Be good while I’m gone, Williamson" you whisper, your hands fondling her back tenderly.

"I’m going to spend Christmas disguised as a camel. Can’t be any wiser"

You laugh when you hear her answer you, her voice muffled by your hair. You thought you never laughs so much when Leah told you about her idea of dressing up with her brother for their family reunion but it was before you saw the dressing up in itself. You feel Leah smile against your skin as she hears you and she ends up backing her forehead against yours.

"You too, be wise"

"Always" you smile maliciously.

Leah rolls with her eyes amused, but you feel like there’s something else. You just have to lean your head slightly to the side and question her with your eyes to get her to confides in you. God how much you like the ease of communication you both fell into.

"You’re not planning on going to a tattoo parlor, are you?"

You quickly understand what it is, Leah asked you several questions about this one night story with the tattoo artist. You don’t know why she seems more intrigued by this story than the one you had with your first girlfriend, you sometimes wonder if she realized that this is a particularly sensitive subject that you don’t feel ready to discuss with her yet.

"No" you smile softly as you caress her face. "The only drawings I might have on my skin are those of my little cousins"

"Perfect" mumbles Leah, before she pulls you against her to kiss you. You are not the type to have this kind of behavior in public, but it’s an exceptional event. So you respond to her kiss, putting your hands around her neck. You wish you could add something like "I’m yours" but you feel like it’s too soon. Yet you don’t see how you could look at someone else since you have her.

******** You promised to call once a day during your absence, but it quickly turns into several calls, usually one in the morning and one at the end of the day before you fall asleep. Not to mention the many messages exchanged, causing many teasing from your family. Even if you blush every time, you don’t deny, what would you? You’ve always been good at hiding things, but you don’t want to hide something that makes you so happy. You had the right to be the first to see Leah and Jacob dressed as camels and you sent Leah the tattoos your cousins drew with their pens on your arms. You also took advantage of being there at the same time as Ingrid to spend a day with her, for the first time both of them in a very long time. Usually Mapi is around, but with her injury it was impossible for her to fly. This didn’t stop you from doing a FaceTime with her while waiting for your lunch order. She also teased you about your relationship with Leah, pretending you couldn’t choose worse than that. You answered her by threatening to forbid Ingrid to see her again and then the three of you joked about a vacation idea for the four of you. Despite the fact that you miss Leah a little more every day, you have to admit to having a really good time. To see your parents again, to become their little girl again is pleasant to you. To be pampered like a child of eight years by your mother too.

But, when your plane starts its descent on London after a trip of several hours, you are more than happy to find your daily life. This holiday was a pleasant parenthesis to allow you to find yourself a little and confirm some things that you already knew. The strength of your feelings for Leah in particular, the pleasure of finding your teammates became your friends and also the lack of playing football. You tried hard to follow the holiday practices concocted by the staff, unlike some of your teammates. You can’t help but laugh when Manuela looks away guiltily when Jonas asks if everyone has respected their schedule.

Leah is waiting for you outside the airport, with a bouquet of flowers and her beautiful smile. Without really thinking, you throw yourself in her arms and put your lips on hers to seal your reunion. Surprised by your outpouring, Leah steps back a few steps but smiles against your lips as she hugs you.

"Hum. Meet my brother" she smirkes when you detach yourself from her.

The boy smiles at you, amused, and you blush like a tomato before greeting him in your turn. Needless to say, you absolutely didn’t notice him. He insists on carrying your suitcases to their car, Leah explaining to you on the way why she ends up with a bouquet of camellias instead of red roses as she had wanted in the first place. A vague story of season flowers that you listen to with fun, resisting somehow the desire to stick you against her while you walk.

So that you can get to know her brother, Leah makes you sit in the front seat of the car while she sits in the back, her brother taking the wheel. You gladly answer his questions about your native country before asking him about Australia.

You went there during the World Cup, but living there must be different. It quickly becomes apparent that having a conversation with Jacob is as easy as if you had known each other for a long time. When he drops you at your apartment, he teases both to stay wise which is worth an hit on the shoulder from Leah.

Back in your apartment, you smile while finding the familiar smell and your things deposited where they should be. Leah closes the door behind you and puts her arms around your waist, laying a kiss in your neck that makes you shiver.

"Hi" she whispers and you hear her smile.

"Hi" you answer back after turning in her arms.

You wish you could tell her how much you missed her, but your words quickly get stuck in your throat when her nose slips over yours. You will probably never get used to the closeness of her face with yours and the ease with which you can lose yourself in her eyes.

The kiss you exchange right after is different from the others. It certainly celebrates your reunion, but there is more than that. When it ends with your lack of air, the way you look at the other makes you understand that it’s now. The good time. You have no doubt when you drag Leah into your room and even less when she closes the door behind you.