#catch the lyric inspo
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
We’ve gone way too fast for way too long 🌃
#onlyoneof#onlyoneof fanart#kpop#onlyoneof kyubin#I’m not good at drawing him pls be nice#Seoul drift#catch the lyric inspo
40 notes
·
View notes
Text
mmmm i might join and write smth for soriku week... ive got some ideas but im like hmm
#king talks#i can play catch up if i limit myself#and i can think of song lyrics for a good portion of the prompts for inspo...#HHH well see how tomorrow goes
3 notes
·
View notes
Note
elle elle elle can i request something with moon water killer (i think that's with barty?😭) with a reader inspired by the song Matilda by harry styles???
Since i saw you haven't gotten many requests with song inspo
omg! I'd never heard this song before! it's really beautiful, so thank you for sharing! also....I hope I did it justice <3 ** .... fuck ok I posted this and noticed you perhaps asked for reader to be Matilda coded? sorry I didn't catch that at the time
poly!moonwaterkiller x fem!reader who exceed expectations
CW: mention of Barty & Regulus' shitty childhoods and families (but nothing is described), lyrics are in a different font & the lyrics I inserted directly into the fic are in blue
You don’t have to be sorry for leaving and growing up. You don’t have to be sorry for doing it on your own.
Being born a Black came with a lot of expectations.
A young Black was expected to be well-groomed at all times, to be quiet, obedient, well-mannered, and have proper etiquette training.
They were expected to be dutiful sons and daughters, driven and successful students, and to keep up the family’s good name.
They were expected to grow into robotic adults, find a partner who was probably not too distantly related from them, and raise the next generation of Black children who would then wash, rinse, and repeat.
Regulus Black expected the same for himself.
He expected to be a dutiful son, a diligent student, a successful heir to the Black family name, and produce a suitable offspring who would amount to much the same.
And by some brilliant stroke of luck, he did not meet those expectations.
Though he tried to be a dutiful son, and he was indeed a diligent student, it hadn’t seemed to be quite enough for Orion and Walburga Black.
And it wasn’t until Sirius left that Regulus realised that it would never be enough for them.
So he left, too.
You can let it go.
And when Regulus believed that there was lingering Darkness that flowed through his veins, he had found three people who saw the Light in him… even when he couldn’t.
And Regulus won’t bore everyone with the details; but somehow that Light brought him here, to this day, with these people.
And though both you and Remus were privy to the life Regulus lived growing up, neither of you truly understood it; and Regulus was happy for it.
But Barty did.
Barty knew what it felt like to never live up to the expectations that came with your Name, to be perpetually wrong and disgraceful, and unfortunately that the consequences of such were really quite high.
But they made it. They made it out.
Though it was not without scars.
Birthday’s had always been somewhat touchy for Barty, which may seem strange for the boisterous, egotistical, cocky son-of-a-bitch that everyone knew Barty to be.
A whole day? Dedicated to you? Where people were obligated to shower you with love and gifts? What self-absorbed, high-performing only child wouldn’t like that?
Barty didn’t.
Though Regulus supposed it was less that Barty didn’t like the idea, and more that birthday’s had never been a positive experience so he never quite knew how to handle them.
But - God love you both - you and Remus were determined to change that; and Regulus thought you might actually be succeeding.
Because Regulus stood in the backyard of his small, cosy, modest townhouse with string lights hanging between beams and bannisters, basking the space in a golden glow as the small fire crackled and music played softly from Evan’s sound system that he brought for the event.
The event being Barty’s birthday.
Everyone Barty loved was crammed into the small space; and the people Barty claimed not to love but rather tolerate (read: Remus’ friends) had shown up too.
Throw a party full of everyone you know.
Regulus had the prime view from where he stood leaning against the wooden fence; some drink in his hand that Potter insisted was “so sodding good, mate, you’ll love it” - that Regulus could admit wasn’t horrid - as he watched Remus twirl you around in sloppy circles that the two of you seemed to think was a dance (years of proper etiquette and dance training would have Regulus saying otherwise). You threw your head back in a laugh that echoed in Regulus’ rib cage as Remus dipped you low; his honey brown curls glowing ethereally in the golden glow of the string lights as he pulled you back up to your full height to press a kiss to your lips.
And Regulus’ prime viewing location also allowed him to watch Barty as he, too, watched the two of you.
Barty always talked of the pain like it’s alright; ever the comedian, he was always able to play off some of the most traumatic stories from his childhood as funny. And Regulus understood that; nothing about the way either of them had been treated had ever seemed especially alarming until now…until they saw that it could be better, that it should be better.
Barty had been laughing and chatting with Evan, Pandora, Dorcas, and Marlene from the deck, but he had since opted to lean against the bannister as he watched two of his lovers enjoy the party; his party.
A party that Barty likely never imagined…expected for himself, a party that would have seemed impossible years ago.
If the subtle glisten in Barty’s eyes and the mystified look on his face was enough to go by; the sentiment was not lost on Barty, either.
Their eyes met then; two boys whose families never showed them love who moved on to find freedom in love and a family that they started all on their own.
It should have been impossible for Barty’s face to soften anymore than it had been as he watched you and Remus dancing, but it seemed to do just that when he shot Regulus a wink.
Regulus raised his glass to his boyfriend then; to growing up, to moving on, to showing love, to their little family.
And to exceeding every expectation either of them ever had for themselves.
#marauders era#marauders au#marauders fanfiction#reader insert#self insert#barty gate#remus lupin#barty crouch jr#barty crouch junior#regulus black#moonwaterkiller#poly!moonwaterkiller#poly!moonwaterkiller x reader#poly!moonwaterkiller x you#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin x you#barty crouch jr x reader#barty crouch jr x you#regulus black x reader#regulus black x you#Matilda - harry styles#song fic#poly!moonwaterkiller fic#poly!moonwaterkiller ficlet#poly!moonwaterkiller blurb#poly!moonwaterkiller imagine#ellecdc fics
418 notes
·
View notes
Text
Get Closer To Me
Characters/Pairings: Ari Levinson x curvy female!Reader x Curtis EverettWord Count: 5.8k Summary: The summary is that this is 90% smut with our Tattoo Artists because we want and need it. I tried to be more author-y and give you something better, but I know y'all aren't here for the summaries in this series!
Content/Warnings: explicit smut (mfm threesome, kissing, oral - male and female receiving, vaginal fingering, vaginal intercourse, unprotected sex, slight overstimulation), dacaryphilia, light dirty talk, light degradation, pet names (beautiful, sugar)
Notes: A very horny Monday to you! MANY people guessed correctly that this duo was who we were going to see for the tenth week of Chris-mas... And I've appropriated another Hozier lyric for title inspo because I can.
Previous Installment | Series ↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest
At home on a Friday afternoon, you’re curled up on your couch with your laptop balanced precariously on your knees. The gentle tapping of your fingers on the keyboard fills the otherwise quiet apartment as you work on finishing up a report before the weekend, trying to get ahead even though it’s not due until next week. Sunlight streams through the windows, casting a warm glow across the room and highlighting the colorful throw pillows scattered around you.
Just as you're hitting your stride, a sharp knock at the door breaks your concentration. You glance at the time on your laptop screen, seeing it’s a little after four. Curiosity piqued, you set your laptop aside and stretch, your muscles protesting slightly after sitting in one attitude for so long.
“Due for a turn about the room anyway,” you grin, quoting Pride and Prejudice to yourself as you head to the door. It’s probably a package delivery. You’ve resorted to ordering almost everything online these days.
But you open the door to find the tall, broad, ripped lion of a man who’s been railing you the last six months, his hair catching the golden sun and blowing perfectly in a light breeze you’re sure has sprouted into existence just because he’s Ari Fucking Levinson, absolute Adonis brought to life.
Your heart skips a beat at the sight of Ari, his piercing blue eyes sparkling with mischief as they roam over you, taking in your casual at-home attire - yoga pants and an oversized t-shirt that's slipped off one shoulder. A slow, seductive smile spreads across his face.
"Surprise," he greets, his deep voice sending a shiver down your spine.
Before you can respond, he steps forward, one large hand cupping your face as he captures your lips in a searing kiss. His other arm wraps around your waist, pulling you flush against his hard body as he backs you into your apartment, kicking the door shut behind him.
You melt into the kiss, your hands instinctively sliding up his muscular chest to tangle in his golden hair. When he finally breaks away, you're breathless and dizzy with desire.
"Ari," you gasp, "What are you -"
Ari cuts you off with another quick, passionate kiss. "Shh," he murmurs against your lips. "No questions. Just sex."
His hands roam your body, slipping under your oversized shirt to caress the soft skin of your waist, groping your ample flesh in a hungry way. You shiver at his touch, your body instantly responding to him. It's been nearly two weeks since you've seen him or Curtis - the longest you've gone without seeing at least one of them since that first night six months ago.
"I've missed you," Ari growls, his voice low and husky. He backs you up against the wall, his body pressing firmly against yours. "Couldn't wait until tomorrow. Needed to see you, to touch you."
His lips trail down your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. You tilt your head, giving him better access as you moan softly. Your hands clutch at his broad shoulders, and you groan his name when he starts to mouth intently at a spot on your collar bone. Ari's mouth works against your skin, his teeth grazing and sucking with increasing intensity. You feel the blood rushing to the surface, knowing he's marking you deliberately. The slight pain mingles with pleasure, sending shivers down your spine and pooling heat between your thighs.
His hands roam your body, one sliding up to cup your breast through the cup of your bra, the other gripping your hip possessively. You arch into his touch, desperate for more contact. The wall is cool against your back, a stark contrast to the heat of Ari's body pressed against your front.
After a few minutes of his intense focus on your neck, Ari pulls back, admiring his handiwork. A satisfied smirk plays across his lips as he takes in the sight of the bruise blooming on your collarbone.
Ari's eyes lock with yours, intense and burning with desire. This is one of the reasons you’re always so weak and eager for him. He leans in again, this time capturing your lips in a slower, more sensual kiss. His tongue traces the seam of your lips, coaxing them open. You yield to him willingly, your mouth parting on a soft sigh.
He explores your mouth languidly, his tongue dancing with yours in a slow, seductive rhythm. One of his hands cups the back of your head, while the other slides down to grip your hip. He presses his body closer, and you feel the hard length of his cock pressing against your stomach through his jeans. Your hands slide down to his hips, silently encouraging him to continue rutting into you.
The kiss deepens, growing more passionate with each passing moment. Ari's hand tightens in your hair, tilting your head to give him better access. His tongue strokes against yours, tasting and teasing. The kiss seems to go on forever, a slow burn that builds the tension between you to an almost unbearable level. When he finally breaks away, you're both breathless.
Ari’s hand moves to your shoulder, and he begins to apply gentle pressure, urging you downwards. You follow his lead, your body sliding down the wall as his hands guide you. The rough texture of the wall catches slightly on your shirt, dragging it up to expose more of your skin.
Halfway down, Ari pauses your descent. His thumb traces your bottom lip, his eyes dark with hunger as he watches you. You dart your tongue out, tasting the salt of his skin. He groans softly as you close your mouth around his thumb and suck. “Perfect little slut,” he says.
Your knees bend as Ari continues to guide you down, his strong hands steady and sure. The carpet is soft against your shins as you finally come to rest on your knees. You're eye-level with Ari's belt and the bulge in his jeans.
Ari's fingers thread through your hair, guiding your face towards his crotch. You nuzzle against the bulge in his jeans, inhaling his musky scent. Your hands slide up his muscular thighs, fingers tracing the outline of his erection through the denim.
"That's it," Ari purrs, his voice low and husky. "Show me how much you've missed my cock, beautiful."
Your fingers work at his belt buckle, unfastening it with practiced ease. You pop the button of his jeans and slowly lower the zipper, maintaining eye contact with Ari as you do. His ice-blue eyes are dark with lust, watching your every move intently.
You tug his jeans and boxer briefs down just enough to free his thick, hard cock. It springs free, bobbing inches from your face. Your mouth waters at the sight, and you whimper before looking back up at Ari through your lashes.
Ari's hand tightens in your hair, holding you steady as he takes his cock in his other hand. He slaps it against your cheek, the heavy weight of it sending a thrill through you. The sound echoes in the quiet apartment, a lewd reminder of what's about to happen.
"Open," he commands, his voice low and gravelly.
You part your lips obediently, your tongue darting out to wet them in anticipation. Ari slaps his cock against your tongue, leaving a salty trail of precome. He does it again, this time dragging the head across your bottom lip before tapping it against your other cheek.
The thick, musky scent of his arousal fills your senses, making your mouth water. You whimper softly, your body trembling with need as Ari continues to tease you, slapping his cock against your face.
"Now," Ari growls, "do as I said and worship the cock you've been missing."
You don't need to be told twice. Your hands come up to grip Ari's muscular thighs as you lean forward, taking the head of his cock into your mouth. You moan at the taste of him, your tongue swirling around the sensitive tip.
Ari groans, his hand tightening in your hair. "That's it, beautiful," he murmurs. "Take it all."
You relax your jaw and throat, slowly taking more of his length into your mouth. Your tongue traces the thick vein on the underside of his shaft as you bob your head, taking him deeper with each pass.
Ari's hips start to move, small thrusts that push his cock further into your mouth. You hollow your cheeks, sucking hard as you pull back, then relax as you take him in again. Your hands slide up to cup his ass, encouraging his movements as things shift from you sucking him off to him fucking your mouth.
Ari's fingers tighten in your hair as he begins to thrust more forcefully into your mouth. You relax your throat, taking him deeper with each stroke. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as his cock hits the back of your throat, but you moan around him, reveling in the feeling of being used.
"Fuck," Ari groans, his voice strained. "Your mouth feels so good, beautiful. Such a perfect little cocksucker."
His praise sends a thrill through you, making you redouble your efforts. You hollow your cheeks, sucking hard as he withdraws, your tongue swirling around the head before he thrusts back in. Your hands knead his ass, encouraging him to fuck your face harder.
Ari obliges, his hips snapping forward with increased force. His cock slides in and out of your mouth at a punishing pace. Saliva and precome dribble down your chin as Ari fucks your mouth relentlessly. Your jaw aches from the stretch, but you love every second of it. The sounds of his grunts and groans mix with the wet, obscene noises of his cock sliding in and out of your throat.
"Look at me," Ari commands, his voice rough with pleasure.
You force your eyes back open, gazing up at him through your lashes. The sight of him above you - his chest heaving, his storm-blue eyes dark with lust as he watches his cock disappear into your mouth - nearly undoes you. You moan around him, the vibrations making him curse.
"Fuck, that's it," he growls. "Take it all like a good little slut."
His thrusts become more erratic, his cock swelling in your mouth as he nears his climax. You can feel him tensing, his fingers tightening almost painfully in your hair as he holds you in place.
"Gonna come," Ari grunts, his voice strained. "Swallow it all, beautiful. Don't waste a drop."
You moan around his cock, your eyes locked on his as you nod as best you can with him still fucking your face. Your hands grip his ass tighter, pulling him closer, silently begging for his release.
With a guttural groan, Ari slams his cock deep into your throat one last time. You feel it pulse against your tongue as he comes, hot spurts of his release flooding your mouth. You swallow eagerly, your throat working to take every drop he gives you.
Ari holds you there for a long moment, his cock pulsing in your throat as he empties himself completely. You struggle to breathe through your nose, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes, but you don't pull away. You want to take everything he has to give.
Finally, Ari slowly withdraws his softening cock from your mouth. You gasp for air, your chest heaving as you gulp in deep breaths.
"Good girl," Ari purrs, his voice husky and satisfied. His hand cups your cheek, thumb stroking your flushed skin. "You took that so well."
A mixture of saliva and cum dribbles down your chin, and you move to wipe it away, but Ari stops you.
"Leave it," he commands, his voice hoarse. "I want to show Curtis. I told him I was coming over, told him to wrap up whatever he was doing and get here, but I think he could use some inspiration."
You nod, lowering your hand obediently. Ari's eyes roam over you as he pulls out his phone, taking in your disheveled appearance - your mussed hair, swollen lips, and the mess on your face.
Ari snaps a quick photo with his phone, capturing your debauched state. You hear the soft 'whoosh' of a message being sent, and a thrill runs through you at the thought of Curtis seeing a photo of you like that.
"Our pretty whore," Ari purrs, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. "Now, let's get you more comfortable while we wait for Curtis to arrive."
He helps you to your feet, steadying you as your legs wobble slightly. Ari scoops you up in his strong arms. You yelp in surprise, instinctively wrapping your legs around his waist as he carries you to your bedroom.
He deposits you on the bed, looming over you with hunger in his ice-blue eyes.
"Strip for me," he commands, his voice low and husky. Stepping back from the bed, he immediately whips off his own shirt before getting out of his shoes. He looks back up to see you haven’t moved, your eyes on him.
He chuckles. “Did you forget what I look like?”
“No,” you laugh but also lick your lips. “Just appreciating the view.”
And what a view it is - a canvas of golden tan skin, decorated with intricate, colorful tattoos, stretching over taut and defined muscles. He radiates strength and confidence, a true masterpiece of human form.
Ari's grin turns predatory as he watches you admire him. "As much as I appreciate the attention, beautiful, I believe I gave you an order." His voice drops lower, a hint of warning in his tone. "Don't make me repeat myself."
The command in his voice sends a shiver down your spine, and you quickly move to comply. You pull your oversized t-shirt over your head, tossing it aside. Your bra, yoga pants, and underwear follow, leaving you naked on the bed.
Ari's eyes roam over your body, his gaze hot and hungry. "Perfect," he murmurs, stepping out of his jeans and boxer briefs.
It’s something you would have questioned long ago, but Curtis and Ari have looked at you, played with you, worshipped and wrecked you so diligently, their lust and desire so undeniable that you finally had accepted that they could want you and all your curves, soft belly, stretch marks, and rolls. They relished them.
Now also fully naked, Ari climbs onto the bed, his muscular body moving with fluid grace. He settles between your legs, his hands sliding up your thighs, parting them wider.
"So wet for me already," Ari purrs, his fingers tracing your slick folds. "Did sucking my cock get you this worked up, beautiful?"
You nod, gasping as he slides two fingers inside you. "Yes," you moan. "Love having your cock in my mouth."
Ari chuckles, his thumb circling your clit as his fingers pump slowly in and out of you. "Such a greedy little slut," he murmurs. "Always so eager for our cocks."
His skilled fingers work you expertly, building your pleasure with each stroke. You arch into his touch, your hips rocking against his hand as soft moans fall from your lips.
"That's it," Ari encourages, his voice low and husky. "Let me hear how good it feels."
He leans down, capturing one of your nipples in his mouth. His tongue swirls around the sensitive bud before he sucks hard, drawing a sharp gasp from you. His fingers continue their relentless pace inside you, curling to hit that spot that makes you see stars.
You writhe beneath him, overwhelmed by the dual sensations. Your hands clutch at his broad shoulders, nails digging into his skin as the pleasure builds. Ari switches to your other breast, lavishing it with the same attention while his thumb increases pressure on your clit.
"Ari," you moan, your voice breathy and desperate. "Please, I'm so close."
Ari lifts his head from your breast, his ice-blue eyes locking with yours. "Then come for me, beautiful," he growls. "Let go."
His fingers curl inside you, hitting that perfect spot as his thumb rubs tight circles on your clit. The dual stimulation is overwhelming, and you feel yourself teetering on the edge of release. Ari's mouth returns to your breast, his teeth grazing your nipple before he sucks hard.
That final sensation pushes you over the edge. Your orgasm crashes over you in waves of intense pleasure. Your back arches off the bed, your body trembling as you cry out Ari's name. Ari works you through your climax, his fingers slowing but not stopping as he coaxes every last tremor from your body. When you finally sink back onto the bed, panting and trembling, he withdraws his hand and brings his glistening fingers to his lips.
"Delicious," he purrs, licking your juices from his fingers. "But I think I need a proper taste."
Before you can catch your breath, Ari slides down your body, settling between your thighs. He hooks your legs over his broad shoulders, his hands gripping your hips to hold you in place. His hot breath fans over your sensitive flesh, making you shiver in anticipation.
Ari doesn't tease. He dives in, his tongue lapping at your folds with long, firm strokes. You cry out, your hips bucking against his face as pleasure courses through you. Your body is still hyper-sensitive from your recent orgasm, every touch feeling magnified.
"Ari," you gasp, your hands flying to his hair, gripping the golden strands tightly.
He hums against you, the vibrations sending sparks throughout your body from your core.
Ari slows his ministrations, his tongue now moving in lazy, languid strokes along your folds. The urgency from before has dissipated, replaced by a deliberate, unhurried exploration. His hands slide from your hips to your thighs, kneading the soft flesh with gentle pressure.
You sink deeper into the mattress, your body relaxing as the intense waves of your orgasm ebb into a warm, tingling afterglow. Ari's touch is soothing now, each sweep of his tongue sending little ripples of pleasure through you rather than the overwhelming jolts from before.
He takes his time, savoring, unabashedly enjoying, the sounds he makes adding to the sensory bliss you’re experiencing. His tongue traces delicate patterns along your inner lips, occasionally dipping inside to taste you more deeply. When he reaches your clit, he circles it slowly, the tip of his tongue barely grazing the sensitive bud before moving on. The teasing touch leaves you wanting more, which he happily gives.
Ari's tongue continues its leisurely exploration, each languid stroke sending waves of gentle pleasure through your body. His movements are unhurried, almost reverent, as he savors every inch of you. The warm, wet slide of his tongue against your sensitive flesh feels like silk, smooth and luxurious.
You float in a haze of bliss, your mind drifting as Ari worships you with his mouth. The tension in your muscles melts away, leaving you boneless and pliant beneath him. Your fingers loosen in his hair, no longer gripping tightly but instead carding through the soft strands in lazy, appreciative caresses, occasionally dancing over the intricate inked patterns on his shoulders.
Ari hums contentedly against you, the vibrations a pleasant buzz against your core. His hands knead your thighs in slow, soothing circles, occasionally sliding up to your hips or down to the curve of your ass. He seems content to take his time, drawing out your pleasure without rushing towards another climax, more content to kiss and lap at your cunt.
You're lost in the gentle waves of pleasure, your body humming with contentment. Distantly, the sound of the front door opening breaks through your haze. Heavy footsteps approach the bedroom, and you lift your head just in time to see Curtis appear in the doorway.
His ice-blue eyes darken as he takes in the scene before him - you sprawled on the bed, flushed and keening, with Ari's head buried between your thighs. A slow, hungry smile spreads across Curtis's face.
Ari lifts his head, his chin glistening with your arousal. "Finally made it, you fucker.”
Curtis's eyes roam over your flushed form before settling on Ari's face. "Got held up," he growls, his voice low and husky. "But it looks like you had no trouble starting and continuing without me."
You look to your bedside table and see it’s nearly six, and your stomach flutters, equal parts pleased and abashed at how long that means Ari has been buried between your thighs.
"Couldn't hold off. Our girl was so eager for it," Ari says, pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh.
You whimper at his words, your hips shifting restlessly. Curtis's presence has reignited the fire in your belly, and you're suddenly desperate for more.
Curtis chuckles, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. "Is that right, sugar?" he asks, his ice-blue eyes locking with yours. "Was your sweet cunt that desperate?”
You nod, unable to form words as Ari's tongue darts out to tease your clit.
Curtis moves towards the bed, his eyes never leaving yours as he leans down. His lips capture yours in a deep, passionate kiss that steals your breath away. The kiss is hungry and demanding, Curtis's tongue exploring your mouth as if he's trying to devour you. As he kisses you, Ari resumes his ministrations between your thighs, his tongue lapping at your sensitive folds with renewed vigor.
The dual sensations overwhelm you - Curtis's passionate kiss and Ari's skilled tongue working in tandem to drive you wild. You moan into Curtis's mouth, your hands reaching up to tangle in his dark hair. He swallows your sounds of pleasure, his kiss growing more demanding as Ari's tongue circles your clit.
After a long moment, Curtis breaks the kiss, leaving you breathless and wanting. He straightens up, towering over you as he begins to undress.
Curtis takes his time, his movements deliberate and teasing. His eyes never leave yours as he unbuttons his shirt, revealing the chiseled planes of his chest and abs, decorated with intricate tattoos.
Next, he unbuckles his belt, the metallic clink echoing in the room. Your eyes are drawn to the prominent bulge in his pants, your mouth watering at the sight.
Curtis pops the button of his jeans and lowers the zipper with agonizing slowness. He pushes the denim down his muscular thighs, stepping out of them gracefully. His boxer briefs do little to conceal his impressive erection, the outline of his thick cock clearly visible, before he finally sheds them as well.
With his muscular form fully revealed as he sheds the last of his clothing, your eyes roam hungrily over his tattooed skin, drinking in the sight of his powerful body. His cock stands proud and erect, jutting out from a nest of dark curls.
Slowly, deliberately, Curtis wraps his large hand around his shaft. He begins to stroke himself, his movements languid and teasing. The muscles in his arm flex with each upward pull, his abs tightening as he twists his wrist at the tip.
You watch, transfixed, as a bead of precum forms at the head of his cock. Curtis swipes his thumb over it, spreading the glistening fluid down his length. The sight makes your mouth water, and you unconsciously lick your lips.
Curtis's ice-blue eyes lock with yours as he continues his slow, teasing strokes. "See something you like, sugar?" he asks, his voice a low rumble that makes you shiver.
You nod eagerly, unable to tear your gaze away from his impressive length. "Please," you whimper, reaching out towards him.
Curtis chuckles, moving closer to the bed but still just out of reach. "Please what? Use your words, sugar."
"Please, I want to taste you," you beg, your voice breathy with desire.
Ari's tongue flicks over your clit, sending a jolt of pleasure through you. You gasp, your hips bucking against his face.
"I think our girl's a bit distracted," Ari murmurs against your inner thigh, his breath hot on your sensitive skin. "Maybe we should help her focus."
Curtis nods, a wicked grin spreading across his face. He moves to the head of the bed, his cock level with your face. "Open up, sugar," he commands, his voice low and gravelly.
You part your lips eagerly, your tongue darting out to wet them in anticipation. Curtis guides the head of his cock to your mouth, tracing your bottom lip with the tip. You whimper, trying to lean forward to take him in, but he pulls back just out of reach.
"Patience," Curtis chuckles, his free hand cupping your cheek. "We've got all night to play."
Ari chooses that moment to suck hard on your clit, making you cry out. The sound is muffled as Curtis takes advantage of your open mouth, sliding his cock past your lips. You moan around him, your tongue swirling around the sensitive head as you
You moan around him, your tongue swirling around the sensitive head as you savor the taste of his skin. Curtis groans, his hand tangling in your hair as he pushes deeper into your mouth.
The dual sensations of Curtis's thick cock stretching your lips and Ari's skilled tongue working between your thighs overwhelm you. Your body trembles with pleasure, caught between the two men as they use you for their enjoyment.
Curtis begins to thrust shallowly, his cock sliding in and out of your mouth in a steady rhythm. "That's it, sugar," he growls. "Take it nice and deep for me."
You relax your throat, allowing him to push deeper with each stroke. You moan around him, reveling in the feeling of being filled and devoured at the same time.
You're lost in a haze of pleasure, Curtis's cock sliding in and out of your mouth as Ari's tongue works magic between your thighs. The room is filled with the wet sounds of sex, their groans, and your muffled moans. Just as you're starting to climb towards the edge of another orgasm, Ari suddenly pulls away, the cool air hitting your heated flesh.
The abrupt loss of sensation is so jarring that you instinctively pull off Curtis's cock, letting out a high-pitched whine of protest and prop yourself up on one elbow, looking down at Ari with confusion and frustration etched on your face.
Ari meets your gaze, his eyes twinkling with mischief. His lips, glistening with your arousal, curl into a devilish grin. Curtis and Ari both laugh at how thrown and perturbed you are. You huff, needy and not the least bit amused, but you hardly get a chance to pout as Ari flips you onto your stomach in one swift move, turning your huff into an oof.
Curtis chuckles at your frustrated expression, his hand cupping your chin. "Aw, sugar, you know we're nowhere near done with you yet."
Curtis's strong hands grasp your hips, dragging you to the edge of the bed. Your head hangs off, and the change in position leaves you dizzy, blood rushing to your head. Curtis cups your jaw, and pushes the throbbing tip of his cock against your lips, and you eagerly draw him in.
Ari's large hands push your knees apart, spreading your legs wide. He settles between your parted thighs, his muscular body a solid weight against the backs of your legs. He leans over you, his broad chest pressing you into the mattress. The heat of his skin seeps into yours, his coarse chest hair tickling your back. His lips brush your ear as he murmurs, "Ready to be filled and fucked, beautiful?"
Before you can respond, you feel the blunt head of his cock pressing against your entrance. Ari eases inside you with agonizing slowness, stretching and filling you inch by delicious inch. You moan around Curtis's cock as Ari sinks deeper, the vibrations making Curtis groan in pleasure.
When Ari is finally fully sheathed inside you, he pauses, giving you a moment to adjust to his considerable size since its been a couple of weeks since you’ve had either of them inside you. His breath is hot against your neck as he presses open-mouthed kisses along your shoulder. "So tight," he murmurs, his hips making small, involuntary thrusts. "Always so perfect for us."
Curtis's hand tightens in your hair as he begins to thrust more forcefully into your mouth. The angle allows him to slide deeper, the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat with each stroke. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, but you moan encouragingly, loving the feeling of being pinned and trapped by them, completely at their mercy as they use your body for their pleasure.
Ari begins to move, his hips pulling back before snapping forward in a powerful thrust that drives the air from your lungs. He sets a relentless pace, his cock pounding into you with abandon. Each thrust pushes you forward, forcing Curtis's cock deeper down your throat. Pleasure builds rapidly, coiling tighter and tighter in your core with each thrust. Ari's thrusts grow more forceful, his hips snapping against your ass, and his hands grip your hips tightly, fingers digging into your soft flesh with a pressure you think may leave bruises.
Curtis's thrusts become more erratic, his cock swelling in your mouth as he nears his climax. His fingers tighten in your hair, holding you in place as he fucks your face with abandon. Tears stream down your cheeks, a mixture of reflex and overwhelming pleasure.
"Fuck," Curtis groans, his voice strained. "Gonna come, sugar. Drink me down."
With a guttural moan, Curtis slams deep into your throat one final time. You feel his cock pulse against your tongue as he comes, hot spurts of his release flooding your mouth. You swallow eagerly, your throat working to take every drop he gives you.
As Curtis empties himself down your throat, Ari's thrusts become even more wild and forceful. His cock pounds into you relentlessly, and he snakes his hand beneath you to tease your clit. “You better come with me, beautiful,” he growls, “I worshipped your cunt so well, let me feel her squeeze my cock.”
Your body tightens, muscles clenching as your orgasm builds. Curtis slowly withdraws his softening cock from your mouth, allowing you to gasp and moan freely, a string of saliva between you as he pulls away, your face messy with tears.
"So close!" you cry out, your voice hoarse. "Please don't stop!"
Ari grunts in response, his hips pistoning even faster. His fingers work your clit in tight circles, sending jolts of pleasure through your overstimulated body.
"Come for me," Ari demands, his voice rough with exertion. "Now, beautiful. Come on my cock."
His words, combined with the intense stimulation, send you hurtling over the edge. Your orgasm crashes over you in waves of blinding pleasure. You sob in pleasure, your body convulsing beneath Ari as your inner walls clench rhythmically around him.
Ari groans, his hips stuttering as your pulsing muscles push him to his own climax. With a final, powerful thrust he floods you with his cum.
Ari collapses on top of you, his weight pressing you into the mattress as you both struggle to catch your breath. The room is filled with the sound of heavy panting and the lingering scent of sex. Your body hums with residual pleasure, little aftershocks of your intense orgasm still rippling through you.
As your heartbeat begins to slow, you become aware of the softness of the sheets against your skin, damp with sweat. You can hear the distant sounds of traffic outside, a reminder of the world beyond this intimate bubble you've created with Ari and Curtis.
Ari presses a gentle kiss to the back of your neck before carefully withdrawing from you. You whimper softly, the loss of his warmth and weight leaving you feeling suddenly empty and vulnerable.
As you lie there, still panting and coming down from your intense orgasm, you become aware of the tears streaming down your face. You hadn't even realized you were crying until Curtis's gentle touch brings you back to reality.
He kneels down in front of you, his fingers wiping away your tears as he gazes at you with concern in his eyes. "Hey," he murmurs softly, stroking your cheeks with his thumbs. "Are you okay?"
You take a deep breath, feeling Ari's hand stroking up and down your spine soothingly as he lays beside you. "Yeah," you whisper, feeling a bit taken aback by your emotional reaction. "I'm just...overwhelmed."
Curtis nods understandingly, reaching over to brush a stray hair out of your face. "It's okay to feel overwhelmed," he reassures you. "We’re here and we can always slow things down, take a break."
You shake your head, not wanting to disappoint them or ruin the moment. "No," you say firmly, mustering up a small smile. "I'm okay, really. I may need a nap though..."
Curtis smiles, and Ari leans in to kiss your shoulder softly, his hand still caressing your back gently. "We can do that," he murmurs against your skin. "We want to make sure that beautiful body of yours is always taken care of."
You feel yourself blushing at his words, but also incredibly flattered and desired. It’s been half a year of this arrangement - not casual hook ups, but more of a three way friendship with both men sharing you for sex, but the intensity of their attention and care whenever you’re intimate together or with only one of them is almost overwhelming in itself.
Curtis stands up and goes to grab a washcloth from the bathroom for you to clean you up with before lying back down beside Ari on the bed.
"Is there anything we can do for you?" Curtis asks.
"Just hold me," you whisper, feeling a wave of exhaustion washing over you.
Curtis and Ari exchange a look over your head before carefully maneuvering you between them. Curtis slides behind you, his strong arm draping over your waist as he spoons you from behind. Ari settles in front of you, one hand cupping your face gently as he presses a soft kiss to your forehead.
"We've got you, beautiful," Ari murmurs, his thumb stroking your cheek.
Curtis nuzzles the back of your neck, his breath warm against your skin. "Rest, sugar," he says softly. "We'll be here when you wake up."
Sandwiched between their warm, solid bodies, you feel safe and cherished. The emotional and physical intensity of the past few hours catches up with you, and you start to drift off.
“Might have to fuck you while you’re sleeping,” Curtis whispers, “Been missing this sweet pussy and haven’t had my turn yet.”
Ari huffs, but it’s amused, not annoyed. “Insatiable,” he murmurs.
“Do what you must,” you manage to respond with a soft laugh. “Planned on you two fucking me all weekend.”
↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest
I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!
#ari levinson#curtis everett smut#curtis everett#ari levinson x reader#ari levinson smut#curtis everett x reader#female reader#chris evans#aspen wrote something#obsidian stain and sin#chris evans characters#countdown to chris-mas
228 notes
·
View notes
Text
I keep thinking about you.
i keep thinking about you. loser!ex!friend!taesan x popular!fem!reader ☆ nsfw ; wc : 8.7k+ ☆ one-shot mdni! synopsis; taesan never would've believed that there would be a time where popularity would get in the way of you and him. but it wasn't just popularity, it was also your boyfriend. so when you needed an escape from your boyfriend, you found yourself with taesan. the problem is taesan is attached, and you have attachment issues. warnings; referring to taesan as dongmin, cheating, toxic relationship, mainly written in his pov, its literally just sex again and again, angst, oral sex (both m and f receiving), cum eating, both protected and unprotected sex, use of pet names (baby, pretty boy, angel, good boy), i know im a small dick taesan enthusiast BUT he has a big dick in this, taesans very vocal, cockwarming, taking virginity, dry humping, making out, male masturbation, jaehyun and leehan cameo, itty bit of crying. a/n; almost fully based on taesans self composed song "i keep thinking about you." a lot of inspo for this fic came from that, so thank you taesan! if u read the lyrics of the song, a lot of things in this fic might make a lot more sense 😭 listen to his song here ♡
For as long as Dongmin has known you, he believed you were an angel in disguise. And there was a moment where you two couldn't be separated. Every little thing about you was perfect, and he was so lucky to be by your side.
Until you drifted away from him. It was fully your decision,, Dongmin would never give up being close to you for anything. But there really wasn't anything he was able to do about it.
You had started dating this guy, and he became the number 1 man in your heart, Dongmin knew he couldn't be mad at you over it, you had found someone that you took interest in, and for the years Dongmin has known you, this has been a first. But him no longer being in your heart wasn't the problem. The problem was that you had gained popularity and started to pretend you didn't know him. He knew he wasn't popular like you, and he had little to no friends, but he never would've thought there would end up being a time where you would just give up on your friendship without hesitation. You met your boyfriend. And suddenly you were gone. Your entire friend group shifted, you only became friends with people who were just as popular as you, and you had started to also tolerate when your new friends made jokes about him or other people. He had no clue what happened to that angel he once knew. Dongmin especially felt his whole world collapse when you had found out that he liked you. He had watched your contact disappear from his phone, as well as you blocking him on all the social media accounts that you had owned. He believed life was out to get him, So instead of getting over you like every other human would do, he watches as you and your new friends have a very loud conversation in the library. He's sitting at a table alone, writing down whatever comes to his mind every time he steals a look at you. "What a slut." He overhears one of your friends say, "I mean she's practically slept with everyone." He assumes they're talking about some girl who probably doesn't deserve it, because it's all he seems to notice you guys do. "Well not everyone..." One of your other friends raises her eyebrows and tilts her head towards him, everyone catching him staring. He immediately looks down embarrassed, fixing his headphones to pretend like something was playing. Your friend responds to her, "No one would sleep with Dongmin." She jokes, "He's really quiet, I bet he's a secret perv." He sees you laugh from the corner of his eye,,, you would never laugh at people talking about him like that. Well at least the old you wouldn't, the new you absolutely would. "Alright guys," You grab your bag from the library seat, eyes glued to your phone, "My boyfriend says I have to meet him at the lunch hall in less than 10 minutes or else he won't buy me food." You make quick eye contact with Dongmin and rush out of the library. Your friend looks at him one last time before rolling her eyes, "Can't believe she was actually friends with that guy." They both laugh about another comment made, and follow you out of the library. The library returns to being peaceful. Dongmin was very good at pretending like he couldn't hear people talk about him, which happened more than he liked. Your 'friends' also constantly make fun of you for ever being friends with him. He wasn't strange in the slightest, just kind of a loner. But you always used to tell how cool he was, and how you'll never be friends with someone the way you're friends with him. He hated the term friends. And if there was one thing Dongmin couldn't do, it was that he couldn't stop thinking about you. You have a boyfriend, and you treat him like shit, but you still occupy so much space in his head. How could he forget you so easily? How could you forget him so easily? He starts playing music in his headphones, looking down at the open page of his book, only a few words written down.
He finds himself writing yet another song about you.
Making songs was Dongmins therapy. Which is why he's hunched over his computer, trying to get rid of any thoughts of you from today. And it seemed helpless considering every lyric he wrote down today traced back to you. Somehow he was able to hear the doorbell ring, despite his headphones being on full volume. He places them on his keyboard, leaving his room to open the door. And the last person he expected to be there, was standing right in front of him. "What are you doing here?" You smile at him, glad to finally see his face up close for the first time in a while. "What? I can't see you anymore?" "Aren't you like banned from ever being in the same room as me?" He says sarcastically, not moving his body an inch. You look up at him before looking at your shoes, "No.. Well yes. But I'm willing to make risks." He takes a deep sigh, knowing he'd most likely regret his actions but he moves his body out the way and holds the door open for you, welcoming you inside. Once you enter, he locks the door and heads to his bedroom. You follow him after taking your shoes off, "Are your parents home?" "They're never home, you know that." He responded without looking at you, which you take as a sign to be quiet. You close his door behind you and look at his computer before he slams it shut. "Were you making a song?" "No." He shakes his head, closing his lyric book before putting it away. You tilt your head, "Cmon you can tell me, I know you have a passion for music. I support you.!" He looks at you with a straight face, "I was just messing around with the app." "I don't remember you being so secretive." "That makes two of us." The silence was getting unbearable, Dongmin watches as you fidget with your fingers, knowing this was just as awkward to you as it was to him. "Why are you here...?" "He cheated on me." You blurt out. You weren't sure who else to go to about this, "He doesn't know that I know. But I found out." Dongmin's face softened as he approached you, wrapping his arms around your body. "So why don't you break up with him?" He asks, "Why'd you come here instead?" "I don't really know.." You look up at him and let out the cutest giggle he's ever heard, "I'm not upset, I mean I'm not even surprised. Guess I just needed to tell someone." You both stand there, his hand now caressing your back, "You still care about me right, Dongmin?" Now it's his turn to laugh lightly, "I don't want to. But of course I do." "I'm such a terrible person." You frown thinking about the way you've disregarded him. He wasn't sure if you were trying to gain pity from him, you didn't need his pity, you had him no matter what. "No you're not." He lifts your face up so you can see him. "Your boyfriend is. He's a very unpleasant person. I don't know why you're drawn to him." He smiles at you, "And don't pretend he's not, we all know he is." You stare into his eyes and hold back a smile, "He is, isn't he?" Dongmin just nods back, taking glances at every feature of your face. How are you so beautiful? You place your hands on both sides of his face, "Can I kiss you?" He wants to, more than anything, but he hesitates, "What about your boyfriend?" You lean closer to his face, staring at his lips, "Let go of him right now, it's just us." You place your lips onto his, immediately noticing how soft they are. This is everything Dongmin has ever dreamed of. Maybe not in this particular situation, but the kiss was just as perfect as he imagined it. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer into him. He pulls away and your eyes softly open before you're staring into his eyes, "I want more."
Anything you want. He places his lips on yours again, this time a little more desperation shines through, you're backing him up to his bed, sitting him down so you can sit on his lap, all without breaking the kiss once. His hands are exploring every part of your body, still unsure if this is actually happening or not. What if it's just another one of his wet dreams? When you bite down on his lip, he's more than positive that this is actually his reality. The bite making him let out a moan. "You sound so pretty," You chew on his lip, "My pretty boy." The pet name sent shock waves all throughout his body, forcing him to freeze. He dreamt of the day you would say something like that to him. He had dreamt of a lot of things. "Don't say things like that." He whimpers, "I can't handle it." You run your fingers through his hair, feeling his bulge grow underneath you. "I can tell." You tease him, moving your hips against him to see his reaction. "Oh fuck.." He holds your hips, covering his face on your shoulder. It's embarrassing for him when he gets needy like this, especially in front of you. "How far are we going?" "As far as you want." You smile at him, looking down at his boner. Just the thought of fucking you already had him up, "Do you have condoms?" He presses his lips together, holding onto the hem of your shirt. "No." "Buy condoms next time." You brush the hair out of his face. "Next ti-?" He's cut off with you grinding against him, shutting his eyes closed. His nightmare would be cumming in his pants before even getting to third base with you. "Dongmin, have you ever had sex before?" You ask, not stopping your hip movements. He shakes his head and you start feeling bad. You'd feel horrible if you took his virginity when he was hoping to lose it to someone he had a relationship with. "Hey, than maybe we shouldn't do th-" "No." He puts his hand over your mouth, "I want to." You take a deep breath and nod. Your lips are back on his as you proceed your grinding on him. Dongmin is starting to get impatient, the grinding not enough for his painful boner. He starts unintentionally thrusting up against your clothed cunt, and a whimper escapes from his mouth with each thrust.
Your boyfriend is nowhere near as cute as he is. You can tell he's starting to get more desperate with his humping, trying to actually gain satisfaction out of it, and that's when you suggest you both remove the clothes in the way. Finally seeing his cock outside of his pants made reality really sink in. He's bigger than most cocks you've seen, and it surprises you. But you're determined to get genuine pleasure so you line him up with you. Dongmin's very lucky that his first time is raw. The second he enters, you immediately feel like his dick was made for you. It was the perfect size, bigger than average but not an uncomfortable size. "Oh god you're so big Min," Your grip on his shoulders tightens and he moans from the compliment alone. You adjust yourself to a comfortable position and look in his eyes, "I'll do the moving since this is your first time, okay?" He nods, resting his hands on your waist, he's so excited that you feel him twitch inside of you. You lift yourself up and down, taking notice on his facial expressions and noises, unable to stop yourself from smiling, "You're so cute." His cheeks become a shade of red, his cock twitching again. "You respond to compliments huh.?" "Not on purpose.." He says, trying to rid himself of embarrassment from being unable to control his cock. "I know," You pat his head, slowly feeling your energy go down as you get closer to your climax. "But it's okay because you're being such a good boy." And just like suspected, his cock twitches again. "So cute." You whisper under your breath. "Are you getting close? Cause I am." He doesn't respond, but instead starts lifting his hips up into you at a faster rate, taking control over you both. His hips twitch, and you feel it. His cum inside of you. And the thought of it brings you to your own orgasm. You moan his name out, and grip onto his hair. Hearing you say his name in such an explicit way makes him cum a second time. For the first time in months, you actually had a really good orgasm. "You're so much better than him." You touch his cheek softly. Dongmin almost cringes at you bringing up your boyfriend after just having sex with him.
"Break up with him, please." He whispers.
Dongmin won't lie and say he wasn't heartbroken when he saw you with your boyfriend again the next week. His arm wrapped around your waist, as you talk to your friends. He couldn't understand how you could happily continue going out with him even after sleeping with Dongmin. You cheated on him. Granted he did cheat on you first but still. Despite all that, you stayed. Why? He's only watching you from a distance. He wants to approach you, or at least just wave, but he can't move. So instead he's creepily watching you and he only then realizes it's a problem when your friend nudges your shoulder and points at him. Now he's more than aware this could turn into a problem. So he waves, because he thinks it might be able to justify why he's looking. Instead of waving you back, you take a deep breath, raise your eyebrows at your boyfriend and look back at him. Dongmin starts biting the inside of his cheek, opting on putting his headphones on and just walking away. This isn't the first time something like this has happened, and yet it's still just as awkward as the first time. And he's about to leave before he sees you speed walk his way. "Can I help you?" You look at the ground behind him, playing with the strings of your bag. He shrugs, now feeling awkward, "Just saying hi." "Yeah well don't" You respond quickly. He's back to biting the inside of his cheek, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his sweater. "I'm confused on why we can't be friends.." "Friends don't sleep together." You say, face deadpanned as you make eye contact with your boyfriend, far away enough where he can't hear you. He sighs, you've put him in such an odd position. You're not his friend but you're also not his lover? "So that's it? You sleep with me once and I'm not allowed to talk to you?" He looks back at your friends who are staring at him harshly, almost burning a hole in his skin. Your boyfriend however is on his phone, trying not to get too upset over the fact that you willingly wanted to talk to Dongmin. He hears you sigh loudly and you stand in front of him so he's forced to look at you, "It's much more complicated than that, okay?" You copy him and glance at your friends too, "If it was up to me, things would be different." And that's all you say before walking away from him.
-
Dongmin's just had the most boring class of his entire life. Mainly because he was yawning the whole time, trying his hardest not to fall asleep in case the professor decided to say something worth hearing. There's no one to blame Dongmin's tiredness on except himself, he hasn't been able to sleep well these past few days because of you. Every time he closed his eyes to fall asleep, the exact same moments with you would replay in his head. Thus, lack of sleep. So he's pretty happy when the class is finally over, he can go home and maybe, hopefully, take a nap. So he grabs his stuff in a hurry and walks out the classroom, all to see you standing there with your arms crossed on the other side of the hall. Maybe he's hallucinating, or maybe you're waiting for someone else, so he just walks away, not willing to embarrass himself anymore. "Dongmin? Hello??" He hears you call out to him, until eventually your arm is on his shoulder. So maybe you were waiting for him. "I needed to talk to you." He's not upset in the slightest, in fact he's actually really happy that you actually want to talk to him. "How'd you know I was in that class?" "Oh uhm." You say, taken aback by the question, "I asked around to see if anyone had any classes with you and eventually someone did and so yeah uh.." You had gone through all that trouble, for him? "Look," You start, "I really needed to tell you that I did enjoy that night with you. And you know, if you're down, maybe we could do it again?" Again? He swears his heart is going to explode. "When were you thinking?" "Tonight,,, maybe.?" Your voice had a little shake in it, exposing you for being a little nervous about asking him if you guys could sleep together again. Dongmin smiles softly with a nod, "Sure." He does his absolute best to play it cool in front of you but the thought of you and the past few restful nights finally coming to end makes his heart pound. And so the moment he gets home he's kicking his feet over the thought of you coming over again. Deciding on ways for the time to pass by quicker, he decides to clean his entire room. Like yes, you've seen his room at some of his messiest times, but that doesn't change the fact that he wants to be impressionable on you. But even cleaning his room didn't take up that much time, and he finds himself looking at the clock every minute. He probably should've asked you for a more specific time. He's just really excited to have you with him again. He's willing to get hurt if it means being able to be close to you somehow. He wants you any way that he can. Why was it taking an hour for each minute to pass? It must've taken another hour of staring at the ceiling before the ring to his door was pushed. And it took a lot of self control for him to not run to the door to see who it was, despite knowing it's most likely you.
And you it was. "Hey." he says, trying his hardest not to smile super hard, opposite from you, who is smiling. "Hey you." You poke his shoulder, walking into his house. "I couldn't stop thinking about you." He couldn't be happier. Dongmin closes the front door, motioning for you to kick off your shoes so you can go to his room. "How about we continue that hm?" He says before leaning slightly down to kiss you. Just like expected, you return the kiss, making sure you can taste every bit of him. "Your room, now." You say against his kiss and he nods slightly, grabbing your hand and walking urgently to his room. You automatically sit down on his bed and wait for him to close the door so he can sit down next to you, which doesn't take him very long because he's just as needy as you are. His hands find their way into your hair, and you're as close as you can possibly be to him. He breaks the kiss to be able to place them down your neck, "Careful about leaving hickies." You warn him, earning a groan from him against your neck. It doesn't stop him from pulling your shirt off so he can plant kisses across your chest, some getting close to your tits. You're holding onto one of his arms so hard he feels like your fingerprints will be engraved on it. "Did you get condoms?" "Not yet," He looks down at you, "I'm nervous to buy them." That part's entirely true, he's way too nervous to have someone actually watch him buy a pack of condoms. Like yes, it's normal but that doesn't change the fact that he's also way too scared.
"Okay so new plan." You sit up fully, confusing Dongmin, "I'll suck you off." His ears immediately go red, and his heart starts racing. His lack of words make you nervous, "Only if you want. I don't have to." He shakes his head semi-violently, feeling his cock react to your words. "I-I want you to." His response makes you smile, unzipping his jeans so he can get out of them. You're eventually face to face with his boner, which makes you happy, especially when it moves from just you looking at it. You barely even touched him at all and he's already super hard. He moves his hips closer to you, hinting at how badly he wants to be touched, "Relax Dongmin, I'll get to it." You pat his thighs softly, making him thrust up into nothing. "Oh? Are you sensitive there?" He doesn't respond, slightly embarrassed by it, but you think it's cute. You place a hand over his covered bulge, rubbing his cock through the fabric, as your hand travels up and down his thigh. "I need you to be a good boy okay, Min? That means no moving, let me handle everything." He nods, resting against the pillows on his bed.
The moment your hands touch his bare cock, Dongmin swears he won't listen. He wants to do what you ask, but it's hard when you're inches away from his cock. Your hands travel up and down it, pumping him in preparation for your mouth. He's biting his tongue so he doesn't make noise too soon. But when you lick his tip, he groans. Probably the deepest you've ever heard him yet, so it's obvious that you're driving him insane. And you enjoy that, which is why you lick around his tip, just slowly. His fists ball up, and they clench even harder when you take him entirely inside your mouth. "Oh my god," He moans,, what did he do to deserve this from you.? You don't respond but instead bob your head at a pretty reasonable starting pace. He's struggling to keep his hands in one place, moving them anywhere he can but nowhere seemed comfortable for him. That is until he places his hands in your hair, trying his absolute hardest not to move your head any faster. Dongmin can't believe how close he is already, but considering the circumstances he's currently in, he's surprised he's lasted this long. He's starting to feel more sensitive, which doesn't get better when he feels your tongue travel down the slit of his tip You know you're driving him crazy, and you're enjoying every second of it. His hips start twitching from how hard he's trying to not let them move like you had asked, but ultimately finding himself unable to when he thrusts up into your mouth. Nothing comes out of your mouth about it, knowing he can't control it which is why you let him push your head down with his hands. His head falls back and his eyes are shut. You stare at him in awe as whimpers pour out his mouth, some mentioning how he's close and can't hold it even if he tried. He looks back at you, and the sight of you looking up at him with his cock in your mouth sends him over the edge. His hips twitch as loads of cum gets shot into your mouth, and he watches as you swallow it all, making him moan.
You knead his thighs softly as he calms down from his orgasm, and when he finally regains consciousness, he lays you down in his place. Neither of you exchange words and yet you understand him entirely. It's your turn now. "No panties?" He comments when your pants are fully off. "None for you." You smirk a tiny bit, sinking into the mattress of his bed as he spreads your legs open. Dongmin starts feeling nervous when he looks at you, he's never given a girl head before. What if he messes up, or what if he isn't good? But he also wouldn't know unless he tries, so with a deep breath he finally places his tongue on your pussy. You wiggle into his mouth, liking the feeling of his hot spit on you. "Dongmin, please.." Your small beg for him, gave him all the motivation that he needed. He licks your clit until he's more comfortable exploring the rest of your pussy. Attempting to cover any places that might bring pleasure to you. He feels your fingers in his hair, similarly like how he was with you, except you don't move his head, you're just keeping them there for support. And so he goes back to sucking your clit, doing his absolute best to make sure he's able to give head right. Dongmin loves the way you're a moaning mess because of him, praising him while also babbling about how good it feels, and he's taking pride in that. Everything sent blood right back to his already aching cock. You feel the bed rock slightly, realizing it's because Dongmin is moving his hips against the surface to the pace his tongue is moving. And just on cue he moans into you, sending pleasure up, making you moan loudly as well. You've officially lost it when Dongmin uses his thumb to draw circles on your clit while using his tongue inside of you. You've never felt so good in your entire life, not with anyone else at least. He's doing his absolute best to focus on you only, so he doesn't even notice that he's unconsciously humping the bed until he feels another orgasm creep up. But he wants to get you there before him, so he speeds up his pace against you, watching as your back arches in a way he hasn't seen before. Your grip against his hair tightens, which makes him moan again, and you swear you're seeing stars. And before you know it, you're cumming against his mouth, rubbing against his tongue as much as you can to let the feeling last. Dongmin cums practically right after you, holding onto your thighs as hard as he can until he's cumming for the second time in an hour. He licks up all of your cum around his lips, smiling at you after. "Oh my pretty boy, that was so good," You smile back at him, voice low from tiredness. His heart pounds extra loud upon hearing your praise for him. He lays down next to you, exhaustion catching up with him, and with the way your eyes flutter, he can tell exhaustion caught up with you too. He takes an extra long look at you beside him, your eyes finally rest shut, and he moves a piece of hair out of your face and behind your ear. He's so lucky.
He's kissing you again. He swears he's addicted. Whenever you aren't with him, his lips feel bare. You're like a drug to him. He just can't get enough. He can't get used to the feeling of your hands in his hair, tugging on a few strands as you dig your tongue into his mouth. A small whine leaving his mouth as he brushes his bulge against you desperately. "Eager pretty boy?" He's unable to respond, so he just moans into your mouth, just the thought of entering you again makes his stomach churn. "I finally bought condoms," He says between breaths, "Took a lot of courage buying them." You wrap your arms around his neck, unbalancing him so he's laying down with you above him, "I love you." You love him.. "You know I love you too," His hands snake up under your shirt, lifting it off. "You're so good to me.." You say, kissing his neck, feeling his hips lift up into yours. You hold onto his hips, rubbing down on them, the friction between clothing causing Dongmin to moan. He loves any contact with you, just the feeling of you pressing against his dick makes his tummy flip. He's not sure what to do with his arms, eventually placing them on your thighs, feeling your body shift above him. You start undoing his sweats, gently pushing them down as he watches. You keep eye contact with him as you remove your sweats too, having less clothes keeping you away from his bare skin. You were feeling too lazy to actually remove the rest of the clothing so instead you just remove his dick from his boxers, and pushed your panties aside. Without breaking eye contact, you held his dick in your hands before sliding his tip against your folds. His eyes flutter shut, hands returning to your thighs. You circle your clit with his tip, your chest rising and falling. Dongmin letting out whimpers from the torturous movements. "Condom." You tell him in a quieter voice, you need him inside of you now. You watch as he messes with a box on his nightstand, pulling open the package. "You wanna do it?" You nod and grab the condom from him, slipping it onto him quickly. You take a deep breath before sinking down on him, biting your lip. Feeling Dongmin's hands tighten on your thighs, holding you down on his dick as deep as it can go. He pushes up into you, feeling your hands quickly hold him down. "Wait," You stop him from thrusting up into you again. "Let's just stay like this for a little bit." He doesn't respond, but he holds you tightly, as if you were about to float away. "I want this to last forever." It can. He can make that happen. "Angel.." Dongmin starts, kissing the top of your head, "I'm waiting for you.. I want this to last forever too, but I'm not sure if that's what you want.." You close your eyes, feeling the wetness from your tears, "It is what I want. I want you. I only want you." Dongmin's never been so conflicted. How can you want only him,, but not accept it when he's giving his all to you? He doesn't respond, he just does his best to ignore the aching pain coming from his dick, trying to enjoy the only intimate moments you give him. He's not sure how much more of this he could take.
He unclips your bra and slips it out between the two of you, loving the feeling of your tits against his chest. A tear unknowingly falls down your cheek and onto his chest, which he felt, "Are you okay?" "Mhm." You nod, face not showing in his direction, "You can,,,, go now." He thrusts up into you, placing kisses all over your skin. You whip away any leftover tears, and sit up. You put your hands on his chest for support, whispering his name under your breath. He's also moaning your voice, his senses heightened whenever he's with you. "I'm yours, right?" Dongmin continues to thrust into you, "Tell me I'm yours.." "You're mine baby." A small smile appears on your face after looking down at Dongmin, his cheeks are red and his eyes are glossy, "All mine." He's determined to make you cum first, holding in his orgasm for you. You're his priority, you're his #1. "Min I'm close-" You say, now grinding on him as he thrusts up, looking at the way he's breathing heavily. "You're close too aren't you?" He nods, not opening his mouth or else he wouldn't be able to control his words. He's now slamming his hips into yours, closing his eyes and opening them just in time to watch as your entire face mirrors the intense pleasure of your orgasm. He came too. But he hardly noticed over how focused he was on your effortless beauty. You got off of him, laying down right next to him as you kissed his lips softly. He's staring into your eyes when your phone starts ringing. "Fuck," You get up and grab your phone as he watches, "Hey babe. No yeah I'm on my way." You hang up and go searching for the close sprawled on Dongmin's bedroom floor. He's just looking at you, watching you gather your clothes. "He needs me to come over, and he sounds pretty angry too." You smile at Dongmin before placing a kiss on his cheek. "Do you know where my panties are?" You frantically look around his room for them. "Leave them here." He holds himself up by his arms. "You don't need them." You look at him and tilt your head, "What if he finds out I was here with you?" "So what?" "Dongmin.. He can't find out." Dongmin's such a fool.
If he's left with his thoughts anymore, he might go insane. It's been going on for 4 weeks, but it's been 6 days since he has last seen you. According to you, your boyfriend suspects something is up, but Dongmin's the last person on earth he'd think you were cheating on him with. You weren't responding to his texts or calls either, he's starting to wonder if he's lost you again. You kept posting about being at parties with your boyfriend for the past few days, you told Dongmin you couldn't see him cause you were busy with school workload. Dongmin offered to help you with work, he even told you that you'd do it for you, and you still said no. He needed to fill that empty space you had been occupying, which is why he's standing in front of the door to a classroom that was currently holding the school's 'aspiring artist' club. He's been meaning to attend for quite a while now, but never had the actual courage to show up. He just needed something, anything, to get you out of his head.
When he opened the door, the classroom was empty. Did he have the wrong time? "Hey man, can you hold the door open for us?" He turned around to see two guys rolling a cart of instruments towards the door, he immediately moved out the way for them to get into the classroom. "Thanks. Are you here for club?" Dongmin just nods, the other boy putting the instruments in the back of the classroom. The first boy holds his hand out with a smile, "I'm Jaehyun and the one back there is Leehan." Dongmin opens his mouth to respond but Jaehyun continues, "It's only us here today because the other members had other things to do. But you're welcome to stay!" "I'm Don-" "Are you here cause you want to make music?" Jaehyun looks at Leehan, "We also want to make music! We love composing and all that, do you like composing?" "..." "You seem like you'd be more into writing lyrics, maybe even both." Jaehyun tilts his head, "Not much of a talker are you?" "He's not talking cause you're not letting him," Leehan playfully pushes Jaehyun out the way, "And I'm Donghyun not Leehan." The two of them stare at Dongmin, waiting for him to say something. "I'm Dongmin.. And I do enjoy composing and writing." Jaehyun looks like he could explode with happiness, "Would it be too invasive of me to ask if I could hear something?" Dongmin doesn't like showing people his music, not that he has many people to show it to, but what if the people he's showing it to doesn't like it? What if they're too judgmental? Thankfully Jaehyun and Leehan were very nice about it. They both had to cover their mouths from opening and made many comments about how talented he was, and that everyone should listen to it. "The girl you wrote the songs about is very lucky hm.?" Jaehyun attempts to make small talk. It would've worked literally any other day but Dongmin was here specifically so he didn't have to think of you,, and now he's forced to think of you all over again. He smiles at Jaehyun, helping set up the drum set they were unpacking, "I guess," He shrugs, "She has a boyfriend." "She has a boyfriend and you're writing a song about her?" Leehan raises an eyebrow, "Does he know?" Dongmin looks up at Leehan, "Her boyfriend? No he doesn't know.. But she does." Jaehyun and Leehan exchange a look before Jaehyun puts the parts of the drum he was holding down and grabs his computer, "I think you should upload your songs." Jaehyun opens the soundcloud website, "Make an account." "Why?" Dongmin asks, taking a seat next to Jaehyun. "Look man, you clearly have unfinished business with this girl, and we can't help you with it." He sighs, "But the music you're making about her is actually really good, and you may be able to benefit from your feelings if you upload your music." Dongmin takes a seat next to Jaehyun, staring at the website, "I won't be able to upload them right now." "So do it later," Jaehyun pushes his computer towards Dongmin, "I just don't think these songs should be for our ears only." Maybe Jaehyun's right, Dongmin has always wanted to make his music private, but he's always been too scared to. This was probably a sign that he should, and so he puts his artist name as 'Taesan,' creates the account and makes a mental note to actually do something with the account later. "You're like a male heartbroken Avril Lavigne," Leehan mentions, cleaning up the mess of instrument cases, "Maybe except a little more heartbroken." Dongmin actually smiles at that, sinking in the uncomfortable chair. Maybe he's a little glad he met Jaehyun and Leehan. And who knows? Maybe he'll go famous and you'll fall in love with him then. -
The moment he finished uploading all his songs onto his newly created soundcloud, there was a knock at the door. And when he opened the door, he couldn't be happier. It didn't even take you two seconds before you were shoving your tongue into his mouth, slamming the door behind you. "I have 15 minutes." "Only 15 minutes?" Dongmin repeats between kisses, guiding the two of you to his room. You remove your hoodie, holding his face in your hands, "I have a date." He holds your hands in his and presses kisses down your neck, "Yet you're here.?" "I've felt very Dongmin deprived." You let out a low groan when Dongmin kisses the sensitive spot on your neck. "Yeah cause you haven't seen me in a-" He's interrupted with you moving your hips against him. He mimics your actions, hands moving to hold onto your ass, "Just shut up okay?" You say quietly. And he listens, because he will always listen to you. Your arms are wrapped around his neck, leaning on his shoulders for stability, still grinding your hips on him at a comfortable pace. He closes his eyes, just focusing on the slight release he's feeling from his cock because of you. You kiss all over his neck, sucking on a spot under his ear, feeling his hips hit up into yours. Feeling more desperate, you speed up, earning soft moans from Dongmin. You keep looking at the time and right as he's reaching his orgasm, you stop. "Fuck, I have to go." "Are you kidding??" Dongmin groans as you get off his lap, picking up your hoodie from off the floor. "I'm sorry," You pout, palming his bulge once before kissing him, "I can't stay longer." You check the time one more time before quickly making your way out of his room. "Why can't you.?" He follows your hurried body into the living room, watching you put on your shoes, almost losing balance and falling. You search for your purse, "Because we are dating." "You're cheating on him." He brings up. "Don't start with that." You flare your nostrils, "That's not fair." Dongmin's voice gets smaller, "Yeah well it's not very fair on me either." "I thought of you while having sex with him." Is the last thing you say before opening the door and walking out. He could just die. For multiple reasons. 1, you left. 2, you just told him a piece of information that he will think about every second of every day. and 3, his cock is still hard. And he never got to cum. He's patting himself on the back for keeping your panties that one time. He also has zero intentions on returning them. So maybe he is a perv. He takes them out of one of his drawers and drags his thumb across the crotch of it. So thankful he never gave them back to you. Just looking at them made him remember that night, the way you looked, the way you felt. All the thoughts flooded back to his cock, pressed against the cotton fabric of the same sweats he wore that night with you. You. That was all he could think about.
It seemed like all he was doing was thinking, even as he was ridding himself of all clothes in the way of his cock. Laying down on his bed, wanting you on top of him like you always are. He wraps the fabric of your panties around the tip of his cock before moving it in circles, his hips immediately jolting at the feeling. "Fuck.." Your panties feel really nice against his skin, especially when he starts thrusting into his hand, releasing moans from his throat. He's desperate for whatever release he can get, especially since he's only been relying on you for the past few weeks. You. It's all he can think about. It's all he's imagining,,, He's imagining that you're the one surrounding his cock, and not your panties. He's imagining that you're with him. Knowing it's your panties touching him only makes his dream feel real, and he speeds up his, knowing he's been wanting to cum since he was with you. The way his hand moves around his cock causes him to breathe heavily, noticing his long awaited orgasm approach, making him go faster. He's repeating your name in-between 'sorries' as cum shoots out of his cock. His chest falling as he opens his eyes, reality setting in. He stares at your panties in his hand, now covered in his cum. He really hates your boyfriend.
Dongmin knows he can't keep fueling this. He knows cheating is wrong and yet he's helping you cheat. His heart doesn't know any better. At the end of the day, he's the one making you cum, he's the one taking care of you, so he really can't understand why you just wont end your relationship. I mean you let him cum inside of you the very first time you guys had sex. So obviously it meant something for you.. His brain just can't seem to overpower his heart no matter what he does. He could honestly just cry. He's starting to feel bad for himself. Your words don't match your actions, and he still doesn't exist to you outside of the privacy of either one of your bedrooms. But he keeps doing this to himself, he keeps entangling himself with you. And he's about to do it again. Your boyfriend just left, and you had asked him to come over. Normally people who know they're in a bad relationship, or whatever you can call this, would say no and turn around, and maybe even go home. But he's Dongmin. Someone who is so in love with you that he would do anything. Even if it meant just being a fuck buddy. Even if that meant helping you cheat. It takes you a moment to open the door, smiling at the sight of him. "Sorry, I was just tidying up a bit." "For me?" He can't help but smile, especially when you plant a kiss on him right after too. You make a small pout with your lips and softly caress his cheek, "Of course for you, silly. Who else?"
Dongmin loved everything about you. But if he had to dislike one thing, it would be the way you lead him on. How you pretend like you like him, but only when it's just the two of you. How you acknowledge your boyfriend is nothing compared to him, and yet you stay with him. Why? "I've wanted you so bad." He says, wrapping his arms around your waist. You look up at him, smile slowly fading as you stand on your tippy toes to kiss him again. Not speaking back, just responding with your actions. And he knows you've wanted him just as bad when you bite in his bottom lip so you can sneak your tongue into his mouth, earning a groan from him. "How badly?" You finally respond, batting your eyelashes, not taking your eyes off his. He leans in to kiss you, "So badly." He whispers before placing his lips on yours, holding your head up with his hand gently. You manage to wrap your legs around his waist, feeling his hands come to hold you up without breaking the kiss. He could kiss you forever.
He carries you to your bedroom like this, placing you on your bed as he stands between your legs. He wishes he could kiss you forever. You grind your hips against his, feeling his cock grow against you when you grab his hair. He's kissing you as if he's never kissed you before. Like he wants what he can't have. He can't have you. So he takes whatever time he can get with you, through all the obstacles in his way, even if it's a secret. As long as he gets some of you,, a little piece of you,, at least. He removes your clothes slowly, admiring you again, dragging his fingertips across any part of your body he can touch. Your hand grabbing his, "Dongmin." You snap him out of the trance you put him in, and he realizes he's the only one fully dressed. But he's frozen. He can't move. He doesn't want to move. Normally you would tell him to snap out of it, but today you don't feel like doing that either. Instead you help him out of his clothes, placing a soft kiss on the middle of his stomach. "Come on Min," You shake his arm, speaking in a very soft tone, "I'm sure whatever you're thinking about can wait." You. It's all he can think about. It's all he's ever thinking about. "Sorry," He let's go of your hand, heading to your dresser for a condom. He knows all too well about where you keep them. He pumps his cock a few times before sliding it on, going back to you. "My pretty boy..." Is all that you say before he's entering you, making your back arch. Your pretty boy. He will always belong to you. He holds onto your legs as he thrusts into you, watching as you hold onto your bedsheets, your fists balling up. Despite his head making him unable to think straight, he's still keeping up good momentum. He notices a tear fall from your eyes, voice breaking every time he thrusts into you. He doesn't know why you're crying,,, how could he know if you don't even know.? Yet it makes him cry a little too. And he still doesn't know why,, but the air in the room today is heavy, almost suffocating. Why does he feel like he's losing you? He thrusts into you with more force, but not at a faster pace. He's taking his time. Moving his hands from your legs to your waist, so that way he could look at you from above. The way every part of your face reacts, the way your eyelashes look with your eyes closed, and even the dried up tears on your cheeks. Those dried up tears. He's sure his tears dried up too. You start grabbing at his arms holding your waist, fingers digging into them. "Oh shit, Dongmin." You open your eyes, wanting to look at his face while you approach your orgasm.
And he's approaching his too, with the way he's speeding up his hip movements. Watching as he bites his lip really hard,,, he doesn't feel like making much noise right now. He only wants to hear you. You both reach your climax at the same time, feeling his cock twitch inside you. Remembering the way you moan his name every time he makes you cum. He swears the sounds only get sweeter and sweeter. He rubs soft circles on the skin of your thighs, comforting you through the intense feeling after your orgasm. Waiting until you're breathing returns to normal before pulling out. Dongmin removes the condom and makes an attempt to throw it right at the trashcan in your room. And he puts his boxers back on before collapsing on the bed next to you. For the next few minutes you just lay in comfortable silence, your arm wrapped around his stomach. Your grip on him tighter than he's ever felt, and you look like you're contemplating saying something. "Are you Taesan?" You finally ask, watching as his face drops. He doesn't even look back at you, "What?" "Are those songs about me?" "No." He lies. That's the first time Dongmin has ever lied to you like that. You sit up, placing a hand on his, "You can't lie to me, Taesan." Now it's his turn to sit up, "Who told you about it." "A friend of mine. She found it and sent it to me," You play with your fingers, "The lyrics were oddly familiar." "I can't deny it.." When you don't say anything, he continues, "You know I'm in love with you." You quickly respond, "You can't be." "Why not?" Dongmin says grabbing his clothes, handing you yours, "I know you're in love with me too." You take the clothes out of his hand, putting them on, "I'm not." "Yes you are,, You can't lie to me either... I know you are." Dongmin's voice gets slightly louder, a small quiver appearing. "I can't keep waiting for you." You place your hands on your face, "This was such a mistake." "What?" You try to talk but all that comes out is a deep breath, "I'm sorry Dongmin. This never should've happened." He can't believe this is happening. You stand up, opening the door to your room and leading him to wear his shoes are. "But it did. It did happen. Multiple times." Dongmin says following you, "And you liked it. That's why you still slept with me just now, knowing I wrote songs about you, knowing that I really like you." He sensed this the moment he walked through your door. He knew something was wrong, that's why you cried. That's why he cried. He somehow knew it would be your last time together, but he didn't even realize it. You open your door, watching as he puts his shoes on and steps outside, looking back at you. "You're right, I did know.. and I did like it. I loved you." You look down at your feet, sniffling, "I just wanted to be with you one last time." He's unable to say anything, his throat is clogged. He has so much more he wants to say, yet he's scared. "I'm sorry. Goodbye, Dongmin." You make an attempt to smile, not being able to hide the tear falling down your cheek. He went from looking at your face to now suddenly staring at the front of your door. Out of the 8 billion people on earth, why him?
© kissohee this fic is deep in my heart, hope u enjoyed it as much as i did. (not sponsored by soundcloud), i also cant write endings so im sorry 😭
764 notes
·
View notes
Text
doubt comes in
happy valentines day, here's my apology in advance for the angst. this is heavily based on the story of orpheus and eurydice specifically in the musical hadestown (my fav) with inspo from the lyrics so a lot of this is written with the intention to rhyme and be in a hadestown-esque song.. I probably wont write like this often, but i hope y'all like it there's one mention of pronouns (she/her) with lilith since i basically swapped the reader for orpheus and luci for eurydice but other than that i don't think there's much to indicate this is a fem!reader but this is an angel!reader if anyone would like a precursor with fluff, i'll compensate yall for the dramatic greek angst
part 2 (prelude) part 3 (prelude pt. 2) part 4 (prelude pt. 3) part 5/finale (semi-alt ending)
It was a long way down; winding, golden steps in a narrow hall that you didn’t know the depth of until you reached the bottom. Your legs ached with each step, and your wings fought not to fly the rest of the way. You could see it in the distance when you reached the ground, the red heat of the pride ring, and the home you were headed to.
It hadn’t been long since Lucifer fell, maybe a few months since he and his love were banished to the darkness he created with the worst of humankind, but you were given a blessing.
Sera, the oldest of the angels, allowed you to go down to Hell to retrieve him. There was a catch, however, one that made you wary as you now neared his home.
You could only retrieve Lucifer. He had to leave his love, and you had to trust that he would follow you. You had to lead the way back up the golden staircase she created for you, all the way to the very top where the golden gates you knew so well waited for you. Lucifer had to walk behind you without a sound; he couldn’t assure you that he was there. You just had to trust one another. To follow, and not to check.
You couldn’t turn around.
Finally, you reached his home, knocking on the door and waiting patiently before it was opened. “It’s you…” You knew his voice well, the sound of it making your heart swell as you wrapped your arms around him.
He was quick to return the embrace, the ache in your legs vanishing for a moment in his arms. “It’s me.” He sighed, hugging you tighter and shutting his eyes with his head on your chest. He could hear the drumming of your heart, and he knew if he held you long enough he’d be back in Heaven when he opened his eyes.
But he had to let go.
“How are you here?” He asked a question and it was like a melody, clear as day and symphonic as the winds that flowed beside you as you descended that steep staircase down to Hell. He stepped back, hands lingering until you stepped away.
“Sera allowed me to come down,” you said. “She said I could bring you back — that you could leave this place…” You looked around, shifting uncomfortably in the unnatural heat before you turned back to him with a gentle smile. “Come home with me.”
He laughed, shaking his head. “It’s a trick. She’s never liked me—“
“No!” You grabbed his hands, forcing him to look at you. “It’s a trial — or a second chance at one.”
It had taken you days to get down. You hadn’t seen Lucifer in months. A few days without looking back at him would be nothing if that meant an eternity back home.
He squeezed your hands, looking down at them and suddenly feeling that it might just be possible. “How?”
“It took a while,” you said quietly. “She didn’t want to listen, but I knew you had the best intentions. I convinced her, and she’s letting you come home.”
“She’s letting me try.” He looked down, dropping your hands and frowning at the ground. “What’s the catch?”
“You have to follow me—“
“I can do that,” he said quickly.
“And you can’t touch me, or speak to me. You just have to trust that I’ll get us there and that I won’t look back—“
He cut you off with a dry laugh. “Just?” He laughed harder. “We both know how this will go.”
“I trust you to follow me. Don’t you trust me?”
“Of course I do!” His hands went to your face, holding gently. You moved out of his grip, feeling the coolness of the band on his left hand. “We were always close; I trust you, I just… don’t trust her—“
“You should go, Lu,” a voice came from behind him, and the woman you recognized from Eden stood there. Her hair, long and blonde, flowed behind her in non-existent winds. Her smile made you understand why he fell — why he would for her. “Go home with her.”
It was decided then. Just one encouraging push from his love and he was prepared to leave. He looked back at her, giving a smile that made you look away as you turned.
As they said their goodbyes, you waited quietly, kicking at the ground absentmindedly until Lucifer put a hand on your shoulder. “Ready?” You nodded. “Alright.”
“We can walk together until we reach the stairs… Then, from there, we’re on our own.”
“I won’t leave you alone,” he assured. “I’ll make sure you get back home.”
You frowned at his wording, taking his hand. “We’ll both go home.”
He nodded, correcting himself and squeezing your hand, “I’ll make sure we both get home.”
You nodded. “Let’s go.”
The walk was quiet before it had to be, doubt already coming in and making its way between you. What would happen when you reached the stairs? Would he follow behind you? Who were you to think he would, when his love had to stay in a place like this?
“How bad was it?” Lucifer asked you. “Are you sure you want to go now?” You nodded. “Aren’t you tired?”
“I can rest when we’re home.” You gave him a smile that made him do the same. “You want to go back, don’t you?”
He had his doubts. He doubted that he could. He doubted he could make it all that way. He hadn’t seen you in months, and all he wanted was to talk to you — all he could do was touch you — but there was silence now. Didn’t that mean it’d be easy not to speak? Not to touch you… After all this time. After he found someone to love—
“Sera said if we make it, she’ll listen to you,” you tried, hoping he’d respond. He hadn’t even realized he didn’t answer you. “Maybe we can bring Lilith up soon.”
“I’d like that.”
The smile you gave him made him reach out his hand, the look on your face forced and sorrowful as you walked ahead of him. He wanted to take your hand for comfort — to both of you — but how was he supposed to go days without it if he couldn’t fight a simple urge now?
“We’re here…” You stopped some time later, silence blanketing the two of you a long time ago.
But now it was for a different reason.
Great golden steps stood before you, spiraling high up into thick clouds that shielded the true height of the stairs.
But even from here they looked endless.
“We can’t fly, can we?” Lucifer asked, half joking.
“That’d be nice, wouldn’t it?” You laughed, but it died out quickly. “Are you sure you want to do this? You can turn back now…” You swallowed your pride. “Go home to her… It’ll be days of walking, and going back up is much harder than coming down.”
He took a moment to understand what you were telling him, but surely told you, “If you were down here, I’d come to find you, too.” That brought a smile to your face. There was another pause before he asked, “would you follow me?”
You nodded. “Anywhere.” Even here.
He smiled, taking your hand like he wanted to before. “Then show the way.”
You squeezed his hand before turning to the stairs and letting go, savoring that last touch until you could do it again; back home. You took a deep breath before taking the first step.
Immediately, a marble wall surrounded the staircase, and you could only imagine that the steps were shielded, a wall blocking off the first stair as you started to go back up.
You couldn’t hear a thing, not even your own footsteps as you climbed step after step.
Lucifer, on the other hand, could hear your footsteps echoing; one after the other, each of your steps right after the other, and sounding like the dull pounding of a drum. He couldn’t tell if it was comforting or foreboding, but he listened anyway. This was how he’d make it through, he decided. To the steady sounds of drumming.
But you were struggling. Coming down and back up so soon had made you tired already, but doubt weighing you down didn't help any. You let out a breath before beginning to hum as a way to ground yourself to these hellish stairs.
It was a song both of you knew well; there were no words or swells to make you know what came next, just an endless melody that the winds would sing as they carried the seasons through the Earth. Long before Lucifer went to see the world, this was how you knew it. Through the songs nature sang.
But now he knew the world much better than you did. He didn’t need this song anymore. You doubted he even remembered it,
but no, he was humming along, hoping you could hear that he remembered your song. He remembered how beautiful it was, and how when you sang it, the entirety of Heaven could feel your warmth — your love. It was why you were given the task to change the seasons, your song persuading nature into the most beautiful summers and captivating winters. But what else could he expect from an angel of Virtue? Could he expect that the love that he felt all throughout Heaven would ever be for him? How could he expect anything from you?
Pride does not deserve Humility.
And doubt comes in; he thought about turning back, letting you go alone, but even when he stopped for just a moment you kept walking. You trusted him to follow you, and as you hummed the song of nature, he felt that same love that he used to. The same warmth that was now pushing him up the endless stairs after you. The same winds that made him want to reach out and touch you, just to remind you that he was there. Just to see you look back at him.
But he knew what you were doing, using your gift of song to bring nature into this empty place so it could push you to keep going. You hoped the winds would push you up, but they weren’t strong enough.
You weren’t strong enough for this.
The song stopped after a while, but you continued to climb, up, and up, and further up to no avail. If it hadn’t been that there was only one path, you would’ve questioned whether or not you were going the right way.
It was harder going back.
But there was hope; a faint, golden light that led you back home. A faint, golden light that told you you were so close. A faint, golden light that made you want to turn, smile at him, and say, “we’re almost home,” but you stopped yourself and kept going.
You were much further than almost, but you were getting there. And this light pulled you to keep. Going.
You didn’t care for the exhaustion, or the pain, you didn’t think about the hunger, or the thirst. You kept in mind that you would sleep, rest, eat, and drink when you made it home with him.
When he made it home with you. He would worry about how tired you must’ve been. He would worry how much pain you were in — and he would worry about his own once he made it home with you. But he saw how you faltered, hand on the wall to keep yourself going, and he knew he couldn’t make it much longer like this.
But you trusted him, he had to try.
And doubt comes in.
He doubted how much longer he could take this. He doubted how much longer he could watch you fade into exhaustion and pain without doing anything about it.
He doubted that Sera didn’t expect this to happen.
He doubted, and doubted, until you were finally there. Until you were almost sure he hadn’t followed you. Until your legs gave out on the final step and you felt him rush to keep you from falling. You felt his hands keeping you up and his wings bringing you onto the pale clouds of your home.
And you turned back.
But he was happy that you did. He gave you that same smile he gave her and his hands held your face gently. You reached up to grip his wrists as your eyes pooled. Regret; regret for doubting, regret for tiring, for failing. For turning back. “Why would you?” You asked and it was like a broken melody. Clear as summer rain with no symphony to push away the doubt that just kept coming in.
And he spoke to you. He broke every rule.
“I couldn’t let you fall,” he said, and you knew how he meant it. You knew he never trusted Sera. She knew he’d fail. So did he. But not you. You were the fool that made him put his trust in you.
And now you knew he had to go. And he knew he could never return.
He tilted your head down, wings fluttering and lifting him off the clouds. He pressed a gentle kiss to your head and said, “Visit again if you can.”
#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel headcanon#hazbin hotel heaven#hazbin lucifer#lucifer hazbin hotel#lucifer x reader#lucifer morningstar#lucifer#hazbin hotel lucifer#lucifer magne#lucifer morningstar x reader#lucifer x you#lucifer morningstar x you#lucifer x reader fluff#hazbin hotel lucifer x reader#lucifer angst#lucifer x reader angst#lucifer morningstar hazbin hotel#lucifer morningstar imagine#angst
424 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 — 𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟒
— pairing: lewis hamilton x fem!oc
— trope: fake/arranged marriage
— summary: the Browns and the Hamiltons have been neighbours for many years, Nadia and their oldest son, Lewis, not being as close as the families had hoped they would be. Years later, everyone drifts apart into different neighbourhoods, some others becoming one of the best drivers to ever grace the sport of Formula One however being a man of his stature, fame came along with it and so did the scandals.
can a fake marriage to a complete stranger help keep his image alive? let’s find out!
✧༚ ˎˊ˗ ———————— let’s meet the lovely couple!
👩🏽🏫 —— nadia brown!
“the coolest teacher ever”
⸰ֺ⭑ - a south african native who moved to stevenage with her mom when she was 8 and gosh, her character development is one for the books. from being the shy one for all of her school years, university changed everything and made her the social butterfly that you will all grow to love soon. fav colour is pink. fav artist is beyoncé. she teaches history and knows jack shit about f1 except that the cool guy that her parents support used to be their neighbour. absolutely loves the moon and is a part time stylist. will fight for you even she met you a second ago.
🏎️ —— lewis hamilton!
“the goat.”
⸰ֺ⭑ - a literal superstar. the stevenage driver who i would describe as the coolest person ever and many would agree. an adrenaline junky with a heart of gold and filled with positivity (and sass but you didn’t hear it from me). thee fashionista and he knows he’s fine, he just does. father to roscoe. fav colour is purple. loves discussing space and its beauty. did i mention he’s the coolest guy ever? super supportive of everyone around him and he’s knighted. ladies and gents, mr mercedes!
✧༚ ˎˊ˗ info abt renaissance!
˖ ࣪⭑ - warnings: cussing, outfit descriptions, a bit of angst, mentions of alcohol, a talk of ad21, south african slang, slight hints of smut (18+ MDNI), not much of a slow burn lol, lots and lots of brand names, slight themes of sugar daddy! lewis at some point lol (think of it as him spoiling her!)
˖ ࣪⭑ - inspo: this idea just spawned into my head as well as a few of my wip’s mushed together to make this masterpiece. i absolutely love beyonce so using RENAISSANCE for a project so special to me just make wanna do a couple cartwheels. i hope you guys enjoy this as much as i did making this!
˖ ࣪⭑ - saint’s team radio: omg hi everybody 🤭. first oc on tumblr woohoo! not a lot of the song lyrics will relate to the plot of the chapter but more so the beat of the song or the vibe? hope that makes sense lol. i hope you guys like the humour i’m gonna add in here. there isn’t a schedule for this yet but hopefully i’ll be more organised in the future. let’s get this party started!
˖ ࣪⭑ - taglist: @thisismeracing @goldsainz @folkloresthings @flowerchild-96 @userlando (i read your blogs as if it’s my morning paper so i hope you like this 😭) @non-stop-imagines @royallyprincesslilly . let me know if you wanna be tagged in this or future fics!
˖ ࣪⭑ - dividers by @cafekitsune 🫶🏽
˖ ࣪⭑ - pictures from pinterest and twitter
˖ ࣪⭑ - nadia faceclaim: @/unclewaffles_ on ig!
𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 !
1. I’M THAT GIRL
- the first meeting.
2. COZY
- imagine having dinner with your family then they announce that you’re getting married? you better get cozy for this one!
3. ALIEN SUPERSTAR
- first “date”. gotta show the world the newest married couple!
4. CUFF IT
- didn’t Lewis say he was a professional dancer? well now he is 🕺🏽
5. ENERGY
- first day in the paddock, let’s gaurrr
6. BREAK MY SOUL
- ooohhhhh, the school’s calling for a meeting with Nadia 😟
7. CHURCH GIRL
- party time activated ‼️
8. PLASTIC OFF THE SOFA
- a rainy afternoon in the kitchen with the both of them dancing? literally screaming!
9. VIRGO’S GROOVE
- catching feelings there?
10. MOVE
- a visit to Nadia’s work place isn’t so bad, right? …right?
11. HEATED
- time to let the world know who exactly Nadia is and why to not mess with her or her husband. period.
12. THIQUE
- party time pt 2?
13. ALL UP IN YOUR MIND
- how about a little vacation? :D
14. AMERICA HAS A PROBLEM
- coming soon!
15. PURE/HONEY
- coming soon!
16. SUMMER RENAISSANCE
- coming soon!
status: ongoing
saintslewis 🫶🏽
#f1 x reader#formula 1#formula one x black reader#x black fem reader#formula one x reader#x black reader#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 x oc#lewis hamilton imagine#lewis hamilton fanfics#lewis hamilton fic#lewis hamilton x oc#fake marriage au#☆ ‧₊˚ saint’s media pen
941 notes
·
View notes
Text
Nonviolent Communication - Part 12
Pairings: Miguel O'Hara x SpideyFemReader Summary: An unexpected temporary change. Word Count: 24,291 Warnings: A building catches fire; someone falls; mention of injury Masterlist Music Inspo (You can find the official Spotify playlist for the fanfic here ! It includes all the music I've listened to throughout the chapters for writing, including music for the one-shots, and some songs I decided not to include originally in the chapter posts. This was due to the romantic context they have and we're not at that point yet, but I was using them more for vibes if that makes sense? The lyrics are not relevant, not yet anyway.🤭) "Spider-Man" - John Paesano "Moving Forward" - John Paesano "Blue Moon" - Billie Holiday "Nonviolent Communication" - Metro Boomin, James Blake, 21 Savage, A$AP Rocky "Another Dimension" - Pop Money
Part 12
You sleep peacefully under warm covers in your once shared bedroom. Your arms are wrapped around a pillow, the one that used to belong to Peter. You once slept in a different position but ever since his death, your sleeping position changed. You began to hug his pillow at night, pretending that it was him because his scent was on it. Those days led to years and now, hugging a pillow is the only way you can sleep, even if the pillow has long ago lost the scent of its owner. Your head rests on the pillow, like how it used to rest on Peter’s chest at night when you laid in bed and talked about anything and everything in the comfort of your small apartment.
It’s how you lay now on the same bed you’ve had for years. You’re resting, peacefully and calmly. Sleep has a strong hold on you as you dream - of Peter. You sit in your living room and watch as he browses through your bookshelf, the old one. Your eyes scan it, noticing it’s in great condition. If anything it looks like it did when Peter was alive, almost brand new. He mutters quietly to himself as he searches, his fingers tracing the books’ spines, searching for a specific title.
“Found it,” Peter says before he turns around to face you, showing you the book by holding it up.
You smile at him from the couch as you catch his playful grin before he approaches you, and takes a seat next to you.
“We haven’t read this one in a while. I think it’s time. It’s winter after all,” he says as he wraps an arm around your shoulders, gently pulling you into his warmth.
“It is winter,” you confirm as you lean into his touch, into his body. You sigh softly, taking in his scent. You close your eyes for a few seconds, relishing it. It’s been so long but you know it so well - as if it were your own scent. It brings you so much comfort and peace, it reminds you that there’s another scent that incites those same feelings now. Miguel’s.
You open your eyes as Peter begins to read. His voice is gentle and warm, and his arm is still wrapped around you. You look at him and smile before looking around the apartment. You hear Peter but your mind still registers the mixture of the old and new decorations in the apartment. There’s the old bookshelf you had but the photographs on the wall are different. It’s small things like that. You turn away and snuggle closer to Peter, having to stop yourself from almost murmuring his name tenderly in response to the feel of his body, his warmth, his scent. Peter is really here with you. You’re together. Again.
You feel Peter’s arm gently tighten around your shoulders, caressing your arm in an affectionate way as he reads. You feel at peace sitting with him in your apartment.
“Wake up,” Peter says gently.
You sit still, listening to him read and letting the sound of his voice surround you, believing that his previous statement is part of the story.
“Wake up, love,” Peter says, forcing you to face him. His tone is still gentle but there’s an edge to it that wasn’t there before. “Please wake up.”
“What-Peter?” you ask softly, confused.
“Please wake up, love. You need to wake up.”
You look around, noting the urgency in Peter’s tone. “Peter, what’s happening?”
“I love you,” he whispers, leaning closer and pressing his forehead to yours. “Everything will be okay, darling.”
“Peter!”
You sit up in bed, gasping Peter’s name. You look around your bedroom, breathing rapidly. You swear you can still feel his warmth but it’s fading quickly.
“Peter,” you whisper in the darkness as you realize it was just a dream. You sigh heavily, trying to come to your senses. It has been a while since you dreamed about Peter and you can’t help but feel shaken up by the abruptness at the end. It was so sweet, like how it used to be when Peter was alive. Even in the darkness, you long to be back in your dream, if only to feel like that again - to feel and smell Peter, to hear his voice.
You rub your eyes gently, yawning and contemplating your dream for a few seconds when your spidey senses go off. You look around quickly, going still to listen intently for sirens - for chaos. You hear nothing. You get out of bed regardless, walking to your radio, the one that alerts you of emergencies. You wait for it, but before any feedback comes from the device, the smell reaches you first.
Smoke.
You sniff again because you believe that you’re mistaken and that the scent must be something else. Yet, smoke is all you can smell.
“Fire?” you whisper to yourself before you rush into your suit.
You change quickly and put your gizmo on before you check your apartment, finding nothing, so you slip out through a window to check what’s going. Your eyes widen when you see it, disbelief and shock hitting you at once when you discover that one of the floors is in flames. Your heart sinks at the sight.
“Wake up.”
You frown as you remember your dream, Peter’s words specifically. It couldn’t be, could it? Did he warn you somehow, or is it just your imagination? You fix your mask, pushing your thoughts away for now, before you launch into action. You quickly move to the main floor on fire, breaking a window and slipping inside. The change of temperature is instant. Outside, it’s cold, being the beginning of winter, but as soon as you’re inside, you feel the heat from the flames. The smell of smoke is stronger now, filling your nose. You call out for someone, eyes searching for civilians as you move through the flames. You hear someone scream, causing you to turn in that direction. You carefully make your way there, knowing you need to hurry before the building is engulfed in flames with the tenants inside.
You find your way and discover a young woman that looks familiar. Your brain tries to identify her but in the heat of the moment, you can’t.
“My friend! She’s inside the bedroom! I think she passed out from the smoke, please get her out!” the woman says, covering her nose from the smoke, with tears rolling down her face.
“I’ll get you out first!” you reply grabbing her arm and pulling her towards you. “Once I get you out, call the police! I don’t think anyone has called yet!” you order her, as you try to hear for sirens but fail to.
You shoot your web, securing her and lowering her down the building until she reaches the ground before you begin to search for the other person. It doesn’t take you long to find the person. A young woman lays on the bedroom’s floor, passed out. You quickly check for a pulse and after finding one, you carry her out of the building, carefully delivering her to her friend on the ground. The first woman notifies you that she has called the police and that they and firefighters should be on their way. You also notice a small crowd of random people have gathered, so you instruct them to stay back and to not enter the premises.
You glance at the building for a few seconds, praying that it doesn’t go up in flames completely. As you swing back to the building’s wall, you thankfully hear sirens in the distance. You slip inside through a window belonging to another apartment, not caring to startle the tenants as your main priority is to get everyone out now. You quickly evacuate the floor mainly affected before you move to the floor above and below. At this point several tenants have heard the commotion, making your job easier in quickly evacuating them. However, you realize not everyone comes out, so you enter apartments, calling out for tenants you’ve seen in passing over the years, and finding some of them scared and shocked by the circumstances, so much that they don’t realize they need to get out. You find other individuals still sleeping and unaware of the situation, and must wake them up. The process is hard for you as you have to ease people’s fright from not only waking up to a masked person, Spider-Woman, in their homes, but also from the news of the fire as the flames grow and spread.
As you safely deliver some people out of the building, you notice the firefighters and police have arrived. The police has secured the premises, keeping the gathered civilians from entering the building while firefighters move quickly to stop the fire. As you lead a civilian to safety, you can hear someone talking over a megaphone, trying to wake up tenants from the floors above, still unaffected.
“Spider-Woman!”
You turn, pausing just as you were about to lunge off the ground. You find a firefighter, realizing it’s the captain. You don’t recognize him, which leads you to believe he’s new.
“I have people working on putting out the fire, and others on evacuating. These people have told me you’ve been evacuating tenants. What about the floor beneath?” the man asks. “I need to know so we’ll know what floors need evacuation.”
You quickly tell him what you’ve covered, easing the man’s worries for the main floors affected now.
“I’ll evacuate the floors below,” you add as you realize the building could collapse and trap those tenants.
“Alright, some of my people are already on it. We’re also trying to wake up the people on the higher floors to start evacuating!” the man says a little louder just as another firetruck pulls up with their sirens on.
“Got it!” you state.
“Be careful!” the captain calls out before he, too, jumps into the scene.
With a nod, you turn towards the building, finding several people now looking out from their windows before disappearing into their apartments from the higher floors, including people from your own. That’s not the only thing you notice however, you also take notice of the flames and how they’re spreading.
“Everything will be okay, darling,” Peter said.
Peter’s words flash in your mind as adrenaline rushes through your body. You lunge back into action and evacuate more tenants from the lower floors. Thankfully this doesn’t take as long now that you have the help of the firefighters, which allows you to focus on the floors above. It’s there that you run into another full family - parents and children. So far you’ve only encounter roommates and spouses but very few families with children. Seeing them, you quickly decide to make a safety net out of your web. You quickly make it, extending it from one lamp post to another one, making sure it’s big enough for adults and that’s it’s secure. After reassuring the tenants that it’s safe, you help the family reach safety out of the building with the assistance of the firefighters. Your safety net turns out to be very helpful as you don’t have to carry out so many people.
You feel confident as you evacuate more people but the smoke becomes unbearable. It’s all you can smell and it makes your eyes tear up, almost making you lose your balance at one point.
“Y/N! Do you need backup?” you hear a voice.
Lyla.
You shake your head, blinking several times before you finally spot Lyla above your gizmo. “No. No need for backup. I got the situation cover.” You start moving again, your steps determine as you lead some tenants towards the end of the hallway. “Don’t tell anyone. Not Miguel. Jess. Peter B.. No one,” you tell her as you carefully lead the tenants out.
All you see is Lyla disappear before you focus on the task at hand. You get the tenants out before running back to search again. You offer help as you enter an apartment. You walk past the kitchen, already in flames. Even with the sound of sirens outside, you hear something spark, catching your attention. Your spidey senses warn you just before it blows up. You instantly cover your face and stumble backwards as flames jump at you.
🕸️🕸️🕸️
Your sweatshirt lays where it always rests - near Miguel. Your comforting scent fills Miguel’s lungs as he sleeps peacefully, no nightmares disturbing his sleep. Yet, he startles awake. His eyes search his dark bedroom immediately before he sits up slowly. He detects nothing, not even a sound from the city outside, but that doesn’t ease the strange sensation in his chest.
“Lyla,” Miguel calls out because he’s certain that something is amiss.
“Miguel,” Lyla says a second later, appearing in midair with a tone that Miguel recognizes all too well.
“What’s happening?” he asks, already out of bed with his suit halfway on.
“She said she didn’t want backup,” Lyla replies, causing Miguel to pause for only a second before he continues to slide on his gizmo.
“Who?” Miguel asks, but his heart already knows the answer. He can feel that this is why he woke up. It has to be.
“Y/N.” Lyla follows Miguel as he rushes out of his bedroom and into the hallway. He jumps from the top of the stairs to the first floor, clicking his gizmo hurriedly. “Her building caught on fire. It doesn’t seem too bad. Only a few floors so far. She has been helping the tenants out of the building while the firefighters are working to stop the fire from spreading. I asked if she wanted backup but she asked me not to,” Lyla explains. “I was going to tell you.”
“Mierda. You should’ve,” Miguel says looking at the portal that he’s opened.
“Miguel, I don’t think she wants help. She’s doing perfectly well on her own, so, just - let her do her thing and then we can check up on her,” Lyla says as she follows Miguel, who in his hurry, rips the portal open with his suit to reach your universe sooner.
“She’s not hurt, is she?” Miguel asks, stepping out onto a nearby rooftop. The sound of sirens immediately fills his ears and of course, there’s the bright light from the fire itself. Miguel’s red eyes scan it, noticing that four floors are in flames and it’s spreading to the fifth. There’s a large crowd of people on the street in their pajamas - a sight that makes Miguel feel empathy. A fire is disastrous enough but even more so when it takes place on such vulnerable moments like one’s sleep.
“She’s not hurt but she seems tired though. She’s been carrying people out and searching the building for tenants non-stop.”
“Ask her if she wants backup again but don’t tell her I’m here,” Miguel says softly yet sternly, respecting your choice of declining backup, even though everything in him is screaming to go and find you.
Lyla disappears with a nod. She appears again thirty seconds later with a frown that makes Miguel frown, too.
“She said no,” Miguel says and Lyla nods. Miguel sighs heavily. “Keep up with her. Alert me if she needs help, please.”
Miguel watches from the rooftop, even after Lyla disappears, as the firefighters run around trying to put down the fire. They scream at each other, giving directions and warnings as they move about. Scanning the scene, Miguel spots a web trap you set up on one side of the building. He finds another one near the fire stairs to help tenants land on it from the higher floors. The large group of people in their pajamas reassures Miguel that you should be done soon - that you’ll be out of danger shortly.
He’s so concerned about your well-being it only now truly hits Miguel that this isn’t a random apartment building but yours. Your apartment. The realization instantly makes him feel sorrow - your beautiful place, the one you redecorated only months ago might be lost, but more importantly, Miguel realizes all your precious belongings might be damaged if not completely burnt to ashes. He specifically thinks about your record player and vinyls, knowing how much they mean to you because of Peter. He wonders, if there’s a slight chance that you took them out already, but Miguel feels certain that you haven’t, and that you’ve focused on safely evacuating the tenants before securing your own belongings.
“Lyla.”
“She still doesn’t want backup. She’s moving through the fifth floor,” Lyla says just as Miguel sees figures from one of the floors - the fifth one - reach the fire stairs. He spots you as you reinforce the web trap before you talk to the tenants, possibly assuring them that it’s safe. The individuals jump off one by one, safely landing on your web trap before they’re assisted by nearby firefighters.
Miguel’s heart beats heavily as you disappear into the building again, immediately hidden by the smoke and flames. “Her belongings. Did she take anything out yet?” Miguel says, forcing himself to speak, trying to push down his worry.
“She hasn’t. She trusts the firefighters will stop the fire before it reaches her floor.”
“What about the tenants on the higher floors? Have then been evacuated?” Miguel asks.
“Yes. They’ve been evacuated but Y/N is making sure everyone is out of the building.”
“How is she doing? How many more people are in there?” Miguel asks as he stands on the edge of the rooftop. He hasn’t even noticed it but he has been extracting and retracting his talons the entire time, anxiously.
“I’ll check.”
Miguel nods, standing alone as he watches the firefighters put out the fire on one side of the building, trying to contain it.
You push doors and enter apartments, quickly but efficiently checking for any civilians that may be in danger. You try to keep your head low to avoid inhaling smoke, which not only makes your eyes water but also makes you want to cough as you breath some of it in. You call out, offering help. There are no voices, yet you still check to make sure no one stays behind. You walk down the hallway, almost losing your balance from a large gap on the floor destroyed from the flames beneath. You tell yourself to be more careful and to avoid the smoke, as it’s blocking your vision. After regaining your balance, you look down and see the flames consuming the floor below. You make a jump for it, securing yourself with web just in case the floor gives out once you land. Fortunately, it doesn’t.
You step into another apartment, offering help. Your eyes scan the space hurriedly as you yell out for anyone. You’re so concerned about not leaving anyone behind that you fail to notice a loose wooden board hanging behind you as your eyes search the apartment. You look around, coughing a little due to the smoke before the board falls on you - hitting you on your shoulder. You wince, taking your shoulder and putting pressure on it to ease the ache that was left from it. You search room after room before you return to the hallway, making your way into another apartment. You enter it quickly, checking a bedroom and finding no one, before you go into the living room where you surprisingly fall through the floor and onto the one below.
You grunt softly as you feel the impact of the fall. Still on the ground, you look around and realize you’re lucky that you didn’t fall straight into flames but instead into a small pocket of space that has been spared from the flames - for now.
“She just fell through the floor but seems unscathed,” Lyla reports to Miguel.
He nods, concern etched on his face. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, she’s up now and searching the floor one last time.”
Miguel nods, eyes narrowing. His talons keep retracting and extracting unconsciously. It’s been a few minutes since he saw you come out through the fire stairs with a family. He silently hopes you get out of the building soon. His nerves have not settled down at all, even as he has been watching the firefighters work relentlessly to stop the spread of the fire.
“Anyone here?!” you call out as you cough out, knowing that the fifth floor has been cleared up.
“Here!”
You turn as you hear a masculine voice.
“Over- here!” the man says, his tone indicating pain.
You make your way to them as quickly as possible, crawling whenever you can to avoid the smoke. You come across a yellow suited person. A firefighter. You reach them quickly, realizing that they have debris over their legs.
“Spider-Woman,” the firefighter says as he realizes it’s you.
“I’m going to lift this off you, okay? Is that alright?” you ask them as you prepare to lift the debris off them.
“Yes - I think I have a broken leg,” the firefighter tells you.
You nod, feeling bad for the man before you gently lift the debris off them to avoid any more injuries.
“Okay, okay. I’m going to drag you to the nearest window - we need to get you out of this smoke,” you tell him.
“We both need to get out of this smoke,” he says, grimacing. “We can request a ladder from the window.”
“Alright, tell me if I’m hurting you,” you reply as you move around and position yourself. You lift him up from his underarms, your hands meeting in front of his chest to drag him, hoping you don’t meet with flames as you move. Your eyes water but you push through it as you spot a window. You move faster, avoiding injuring the firefighter.
“Ladder!” you yell out and thankfully, there’s a ladder on the floor below that quickly moves up to meet you. “Firefighter injured! Possibly a broken leg!” you inform the firefighter on the ladder.
“That’s Samuel! I was looking for him! Here!” the other firefighter responds as they set up to help you.
As a team, the non-injured firefighter and you lower Samuel down the ladder. Your sticky powers come in aid as you hold Samuel’s weight so the other firefighter doesn’t carry his weight alone. At last, the three of you reach the ground where other firefighters help with Samuel, taking him away to receive treatment.
“Is that everyone, Spider-Woman? We didn’t find any other tenants,” a woman says.
“I checked the fifth floor, there was no one else. Everyone else from the upper floors should have evacuated earlier but I’ll do one quick sweep,” you reply as your eyes scan the fire. It seems to be dying now thanks to the firefighters’ efforts but you still can’t find peace. Not until the flames are fully gone. You nod to the firefighters before you swing back to the building, hoping once again that your building, the one that you’ve lived at for years, won’t completely burn down.
You check every floor, thankful that the flames have not reached this point of the building. You can smell the smoke on yourself as you check every apartment to make sure that no one has stayed behind. As you search, you can’t help but feel sorrow. It seems that the firefighters are isolating the fire but even then, you’ve assisted in enough fires and know that the building will be inaccesible for a few weeks, if not months, depending on how fast an investigation is done to find the reasoning for the fire. It also depends on how soon the landlord starts with the cleaning and rebuilding.
You sigh deeply as you push through a door and search. You suddenly remember a conversation from weeks ago, making you pause in someone’s living room. Your memory connects the first woman you saved and her friend to New Year’s Eve. You sigh again but this time upset. You recall seeing the two women that evening when you were leaving the building at the same time to visit your loved ones at the cemetery. You move around the apartment, remembering that one of the women asked the other one if they had unplugged their Christmas lights. They didn’t. That reminds you of the fact that your landlord passed out a notice asking all tenants to avoid leaving the holiday lights plugged all day to avoid a short circuit last month. You silently wonder now if this fire was due to an overloaded socket, if this is an electric fire.
Finding no one in the apartment, you move to the next floor. You check the floor quickly and move to the next until you reach your floor. You check every apartment and then yours, even though you know there should be no one there. You move on to the next floors and thankfully, there are no tenants left inside. You notify the firefighters who tell you the fire has ceased at last. You linger around for a few minutes, hearing the worries and complaints of tenants - all worried about their housing situation. After hearing the firefighters inform tenants that no one can enter the premise until it can be ruled out that this isn’t a crime scene, you retreat silently and enter the building again undetected.
You find yourself in your apartment, standing in the middle of your living room, silently thinking about how you won’t be able to be here for some time. You allow yourself a few minutes before you begin to collect some items. The first items you collect are Peter’s record player and all the vinyls. You take them to your bed, deciding to make your bed the collecting place. You return to the living room, focusing on the photos on your wall. Once they’re collected, you move to the bookcase where you get Peter’s belongings, like his books and other small decorations. You also remember to retrieve photo albums storing photos from all the way to your childhood to the last years with Peter. Lastly, you pick up technological devices like your laptop and the tablet Miguel gifted you for Christmas from his universe from the living room.
At last, you focus on your bedroom, heading to the closet immediately. You quickly locate a plastic file organizer that contains important legal documents belonging to Peter and you. The two of you were prepared just in case something like this ever happened since neither of you wanted to lose important documents in a rush due to a fire or some other emergency.
You open the file organizer slowly, spotting a passport. You pick it up and open it. Peter’s photo greets your eyes and despite yourself, you stare at it for a few seconds. You briefly remember going together to renew it for a trip the two of you took years ago and how excited he was about it. The passport is still valid, leading you to silently wonder about the many trips the two of you would’ve gone on if everything was different. Smiling, you shake your head and place the passport back, zipping the file organizer back to avoid losing anything.
You look around your bedroom, not sure where you’ll be staying at yet. You grab your favorite tote bag, the one that Miguel gifted you this past Christmas, and place the file organizer in it. You search your bedroom and start putting other items into the bag. Your mind is concerned about the stability of the building. What if it collapses? This thought keeps running through your mind as you retrieve Peter’s box, the one that contains all of his clothes and other belongings you packed away. There’s no way you’re leaving his belongings behind and possibly losing them.
You bring the box to the bed, placing it next to the tote bag before you retrieve other items. Once you have a pile of items, you fetch a carry-on to pack everything in.
You search your apartment one more time, making sure you’re not leaving anything of sentimental value - anything that belonged to Peter or your parents. Finding nothing else, you begin to pack your belongings in the carry-on. As you pack, you finally start to think about where you’ll be staying. This situation is most likely going to last for a few weeks, if not months. You’re certain the fire started because of an electrical issue. The building is, after all, on the older side, and there was that notice from your landlord back in December. It seems to add up. However, even if the fire is deemed an electrical fire and there’s no need for a longer investigation, the cleaning and rebuilding of the building might take months unless your landlord miraculously pulls it together somehow. You can only hope but for now you have to figure out where you’ll be staying.
“Hotel,” you say to yourself as you remember the plan Peter and you came up with. The plan used to be your parents and Aunt May’s place but with them gone, it changed to a hotel. You sigh softly as you carefully pack your belongings, trying to avoid any damage to the sensitive items like the records. Your spidey senses suddenly go off again, causing you to turn.
“Please tell me you’re not actually considering staying at a hotel,” Miguel says softly as he comes in from the living room, hoping not to startle you. “You’re more than welcome to stay at my place.”
“Miguel,” you say gently as he approaches you, stopping near you but keeping enough distance to give you space.
“Are you okay?” he asks, his tone filled with concern. His eyes search your body, even in the barely lit room, trying to find any sign of injury. “Are you hurt?”
“No, I’m okay. At least, I think so,” you answer. “Nothing hurts.”
“Good. I’m relieved to hear that. I wanted - to help you, but Lyla said you didn’t want backup.”
“Lyla…” you say, narrowing your eyes as you remember declining backup and asking her not to tell Miguel or anyone else. “She told you.”
“No. She didn’t. I actually…” Miguel looks away for a few seconds. “I think I sensed it somehow. I woke up on my own and had this… feeling. When I asked her what was happening, that’s when she told me. I traveled here immediately but watched from afar, just in case you wanted backup,” Miguel says quietly, not quite sure what to make of this fact in the moment. All he cares about is that you’re unhurt, or at least it seems that way. He’ll be making sure of it once you both reach Nueva York, or somewhere far safer with better lighting.
You smile softly at the fact that Miguel somehow sensed your situation despite the fact that he doesn’t have a spidey sense. You stare at each other in the darkness of the room, thinking about that special connection between the two of you. Neither of you understand it, nor have addressed it since the day you told Miguel how you knew he was in trouble back in the spring when he came face to face with a variant of the Green Goblin and he was stranded on Earth-42, and he was injured. Despite not talking about it, the two of you have thought about it. Sometimes you wonder how is it possible but regardless, you feel comforted by it. As to Miguel, he used to find it both comforting and fearful, though these days when he thinks about it, he finds himself no longer feeling afraid of that bond and what it means. He’s embraced this connection - this bond - as the months have passed.
“I see. Well, thank you for coming and for respecting my decision about backup,” you tell him softly.
Miguel nods, looking at you. “Always,” he replies, knowing deep inside of him that he’ll always show up for you and respect your decisions. “You were - amazing,” he adds quietly.
You smile warmly, feeling a bit of heat in your cheeks thanks to Miguel’s compliment, but also because it reminds you of the times Peter used to tell you the same thing when he saw footage of you on the news. You blink softly, pushing the memories away for now.
“I was - okay, but thank you. I’m just glad no one was seriously hurt,” you reply, turning away and continuing to pack.
Miguel frowns. Did he say something wrong?
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you,” he says, softly.
You pause and turn to face him. “What - no. You didn’t. I’m sorry,” you whisper even though there’s no need to. There’s no else in the apartment, or even in the building. “Your words didn’t upset me. Seriously, thank you. It means a lot coming from another Spider person - coming from you,” you say with a warm smile, pausing to make sure that Miguel understands his words didn’t upset you. “Believe me. It’s just - I have Peter on my mind. I mean, he’s always there, you know? But tonight, with this fire - and collecting his items - he’s even more present in my mind right now, and your words… He used to tell me things like that when he saw me in action. I’m just feeling a little… sentimental.”
Miguel nods, understanding, yet also feeling relieved that he didn’t upset you with his words. “I see. I’m sorry that Peter…” he starts but is unable to finish as his mind runs with thoughts. If Peter was alive, Miguel is sure the two of you would’ve been packing together right now. Knowing how organized you are, Miguel imagines that the two of you had some plan in action for these kinds of emergencies. Instead, you’re here on your own packing Peter’s belongings because he’s no longer here. “I wish things were different,” he says at last, wanting to say more but not sure he should due to the sensitive circumstances.
You nod softly. “Thank you. It’s okay. Everything is going to be okay,” you reply, the last statement feeling sweet in your mouth as you recall Peter telling you that in your dream.
Miguel nods and watches as you pack, feeling admiration that even in this moment you seem so put together. “Always,” he answers quietly before he looks at your belongings. “Is this everything you’re taking? I can help take some of these items out to another rooftop, somewhere far from the building to avoid civilians’ eyes. We can open a portal from there.”
You look at him, eyebrows knitted in confusion.
“You’re not actually going to a hotel, are you? There’s Gabriel’s room, empty. You can stay there for as long as necessary. Until the building is deemed safe for living.”
“Miguel, that might mean that-” you start but Miguel shakes his head, and lifts his hand up, asking you to stop because he knows where you’re going with this.
“It might mean that you stay there for weeks, or even months. I know the process can be tedious and long in these situations. That’s why you can’t stay at a hotel. Not when you have options. Please, you’ll be far more comfortable there.”
You pause your packing and stare at the items on your bed, contemplating. Accepting Miguel’s offer would mean staying with him for at least a few weeks. That would entail taking some of his privacy away. You briefly think about the fact that neither of you have lived with someone in a while, especially you. There’s also the fact that you wouldn’t be sleeping here, in your universe, for so long - a thought that makes you a little sad.
“It’s not a problem for me,” Miguel starts, noticing your silence but sensing your internal debate. “You will not be invading my privacy. You’ll have your own space and I won’t bother you. Just - think about it. At least for tonight, stay there.”
You turn to him with a raised eyebrow. “Did you just say you won’t bother me? That’s not even something I’m worried about.” You shake your head softly, and despite everything, laugh a little, a sound that makes Miguel grin in the dim lit bedroom. “I’m concerned about the fact that I’d be sleeping in another universe for more than a few days. About invading your space. I don’t want to intrude and be a burden.”
“You’re not a burden. You could never be…” Miguel says gently, silently wondering why you’d think that. “We are… You know what we are.”
You nod slowly. “Yes… I know,” you whisper. You sigh after a few seconds and nod again. “Okay, just for a little bit - a few days.”
“Or, a few weeks. Months, if necessary. Unless you’re not comfortable at my home,” Miguel says quietly with a bit of a frown.
“It’s not that. I just - you’re used to your space, and I’m used to mine,” you answer quietly. “Neither of us has - you know - it’s been a while since either of us has shared our space with another person.”
Miguel nods, understanding what you mean, yet, he thinks back to the last spring when he was injured.“I know, but I think it’ll be okay. We’ve - kind of done it before.”
You stare at Miguel in surprise, realizing that he’s right. You’ve stayed at his home before and those days felt - normal, almost right. You both fell into a routine very quickly. Yet, you can’t help but think that after a few days of staying there, your presence might disturb Miguel’s routine.
“Don’t overthink it. If you’re not comfortable for whatever reason, then we can figure something out but please,” Miguel says.
You finally nod, because the man before you has been offering way too many times now for you to keep refusing, and besides, you’d feel better there than at a hotel room on your own.
“Okay, but if you need me to leave, please let me know, okay?” you ask.
Miguel nods, though he’s biting back from telling you that he would never do such a thing to someone who has found themselves in this situation, even less to you. However, Miguel refrains from voicing this thought because he doesn’t want to add stress to your already stressful morning.
“Alright... Is this everything you’re packing? For now, at least? We can come back later and retrieve more items.” Miguel looks around for a few seconds. “Honestly - we could take all your furniture and store it on one of the lower floors, just in case. That way nothing happens to your belongings.”
You shake your head gently at him, yet feel appreciation for the offer. “That’s not necessary. I don’t mind if something happens to this furniture. I hope not because that would mean the other tenants would lose their belongings, but I’m not as attached as I was to the old furniture, so I don’t mind. I have everything I want to save right, just in case. So, it’s alright, really,” you reply softly with a small smile.
“If you’re sure - if not, my offer stands. I’m sure if we get the whole group, we could get everything out in no time. I mean it,” Miguel says. “It would be no problem. Just think about it, okay?” he says gently, wanting to be as helpful as possible without pushing too much, though all he wishes to do is help you and be there for you for who he is - your friend. “Alright, I’ll help you with this bag and box. You can hold on to the record player, “ Miguel offers, knowing how much Peter’s record player means to you.
You nod and finish packing. “Thank you, I really appreciate it. After dropping everything off I’m coming back to see if anyone needs help. I hope you don’t mind me returning a bit later.”
“Of course not. I know there may be emergencies during the night, so you’ll need to go in and out. I understand. Don’t worry about it, okay?” Miguel replies and you nod, grateful. “Have you packed clothes, at least a few changes?”
You stop, realizing. You hadn’t even thought of that since you were more concerned with keeping Peter’s belongings and other sentimental items safe first. “I haven’t, let me do that really quickly.”
You find another travel bag, the one that you used back when you stayed at Miguel’s place when you were looking after him, and begin packing. In a matter of minutes you put it together, packing clothes for at least a week before you pack your personal hygiene products. At last, you have everything you think you’ll need. Miguel picks up Peter’s box and two travel bags as the two of you get ready to leave.
You thank him again as you pick up the other items and head to the window both of you entered the apartment through. Before slipping out, the two of you pause at the window, taking in one last glance - silently thinking that you’d like to see it one last time, just in case. The two of you exit the apartment before you close the window with a heavy pang in your chest. You hope that you’ll only be away for a few weeks, and not months from your little apartment but only time will tell. You follow Miguel, holding on to your belongings. You check very quickly to see what’s going on outside your building, wondering how many of your neighbors are still there. You notice that the crowd has become smaller, and some people are taking cabs.
About a minute later, you both land on a rooftop. Miguel opens a portal and gestures for you to go first. You do so, but not without another glance. You’ll be back in a few minutes to check on the situation but for now, you head to Nueva York - the only other dimension in the entire multiverse that feels somewhat like home.
You step out into Miguel’s living room, carrying your record player like it’s gold. You move out of the way for Miguel to step out before he gestures for you to follow him, leading the way.
“Come on,” Miguel says softly. “Let’s get you settled in.”
You follow him up the stairs and into the hallway, carrying your items. Miguel pushes the door open to Gabriel’s old room, and you’re back once again to this bedroom. You can’t help but feel nostalgia as you enter the room. It’s been many, many months since you stayed the night ever since Miguel was injured. You quickly get reacquainted with the bedroom, finding comfort in it. There’s the bookshelf with some books about science and repairing and as always, everything is clean and organized.
“I washed the bedding earlier this week but we can wash it again tomorrow if you want,” Miguel says as he places the box carefully on the floor, not sure what’s exactly in it. “Or, if you prefer, we can bring your bedding and take this one off so you’re more comfortable with your own later. I don’t mind it at all. Whatever feels more comfortable to you,” Miguel says taking the bag you’re holding from you and placing it on a desk. “Just - I want you to feel comfortable and - at home,” Miguel says softly, quietly. “So, feel free to use the room however you need. If you want to decorate it while you’re here… You can.” Miguel stares at the bed for a few seconds, silently wondering if he’s being too much by telling you to decorate the bedroom if you wish to. He’s not even sure if you want to stay for more than a few days after how long it took him to convince you because for some reason you think you’re going to be a burden.
You smile warmly at Miguel as he turns his gaze from the bed to you. “Thank you. I really appreciate it, truly. I was - I want to apologize for earlier,” you start. You meet his gaze, hoping he can see the sincerity in your words. “I’m not uncomfortable being here. At all. I just don’t want to disturb your peace. Your space. I hope I didn’t come off as rude when I kept declining your offer. I really do appreciate you letting me stay here. It means so much to me. Thank you, Miguel.”
After a nod, Miguel offers you a small smile. “Always,” he answers, still meeting your gaze and holding it. Your words linger in his head, the sincerity in them reaching his heart. He knows you were not trying to be rude, but that you really believe, for some unknown and odd reason to him, that you’ll be disturbing him somehow. He’s especially caught up in the words you said just now - how you don’t want to disturb his peace and space - and thinks to himself about how this penthouse only truly feels peaceful and homey when you’re here.
That’s not to say that there isn’t peace in this space. There is, only it’s a different kind, an unpleasant one. It’s from the lack of other people in the living space. It’s a kind of peace that Miguel can only describe as lonely. It’s one he’s known for many years.
He thought he was used to this peace prior to his short life in Gabriella’s universe, but Miguel has learned, twice now, that he might never truly feel used to it. He’s still not used to it, even though he finds himself in it often on evenings when he’s back here from HQ. It’s not until recently that he has found a way to make that lonely peace fade a little, and that’s through the record player you gifted him for Christmas. It’s through the music from your universe and the scratching of the vinyl that Miguel manages to push away that unpleasant peace that gnaws at him.
On those evenings, the penthouse feels more welcoming to him, and not so cold and foreign. He never thought something so simple would help, but then again, Miguel never thought a piece of fabric with your scent on it and the sound of your breathing would help him get proper sleep either. Miguel has learned to accept it, to embrace it really, so he plays the record player and listens to the music from your universe, sometimes feeling like he’s not even home but at your apartment - at your universe - as he works. It’s how he tranquilizes that lonely peace in those hours, how he suppresses that gnawing feeling.
While the record player provides a temporary relief, Miguel has noted that the only time that feeling is truly gone is when you're there, at his penthouse.
You fill the penthouse with a warm and comfort that Miguel only used to feel when Gabriel lived with him and when Miguel lived in Gabriella’s universe. You bring a warm peace that he only felt with Gabriel and Gabriella, and now with you.
Miguel clears his throat, reminding himself that the two of you are still standing here in your apartment, and that you're still smiling warmly at him. He feels tempted to tell you all his thoughts from just now, but it’s still too soon, and his thoughts are so vulnerable.
“You won’t be disturbing me. I promise,” Miguel says softly, opting for that simple and straightforward answer as he looks away, trying to think of what else he can do to make you feel welcomed before he continues speaking. “Is there anything I can get you? Are you hungry or - actually, are you sure you’re not hurt? Lyla told me you fell through one of the floors. Does anything hurt?” he asks, frowning deeply as his eyes turn back to you, searching your face and suit for any indication of cuts, bruises, or blood.
You smile fondly at him as you recognize the concern on his face. “I feel alright. I didn’t get hurt when I fell. I just feel a little sore now,” you reply as you place your mask on the desk. You can still smell the smoke on yourself, which makes you wish for a shower now, but you have yet to return to your universe and make sure your help is no longer needed.
“I’ll get you some painkillers and water,” Miguel says as he watches you place your mask on the desk for now.
“I appreciate that. Thank you.” you say softly as you rub one of your eyes. You can feel the exhaustion begin to kick in so you grab your mask again. “I need to get going. I can feel my body begin to relax.”
“Have some water first,” Miguel says. “C’mon. It will freshen you up and then you can go back.”
You follow Miguel back downstairs to the kitchen where he fills a glass with water and offers some painkillers. He watches as you take them, relieve that he can look after you in a small way at least.
You finish the water and give him a grateful smile. “Thank you. I didn’t know I needed that until now.” You stretch slightly after you place the glass on the counter. “Alright, let me go back. I’ll be back in a few. Thank you for - everything,” you say softly as you hold on to your mask.
Miguel nods with a soft smile. “Always... Be careful. if you need anything - let me know, please.”
You nod gently. “Will do. I’ll see you in a bit.” With that, you head back to your universe, leaving Miguel in the kitchen.
Upon arriving to your universe, you head to your building. The smoke has died down by the time you reach it. The police cars and firetrucks are still there, securing the area. Some tenants linger, figuring out what to do now in the middle of the night. You assist them as best as possible and offer additional help to the firefighters, learning through the captain that the firefighter that you helped earlier sends his gratitude and will recover successfully from his injuries.
It’s not until an hour later that you return to Miguel’s universe. You step out into the living room, finding Miguel standing near the windows. He's staring out at the city in silence, still wearing his suit, as if he’s been ready just in case you needed his assistance.
Upon hearing your arrival, Miguel turns around and faces you. His eyes search your body once again, scanning for any injuries but he finds none.
You greet him with a small smile, definitively feeling tired now. You stare back at him as he looks at you, not surprised he’s still awake despite the time it is. “Sorry it took me a while, I got caught up.”
Miguel shakes his head. “It’s alright. Don’t worry about it. You must be tired,” he says, his eyes searching your face.
“Yes, a little bit. It’s… wow. It’s now past six,” you say, realizing. You also realize you need to shower since you still smell like smoke. “I really need a shower.”
“Go ahead. I’ll be down here. There’s clean towels in the bathroom, but if you need anything, please let me know,” Miguel says quietly.
“Thank you! Are you - Are you not tired?” you ask, wondering if Miguel will get back to bed, at least to catch half an hour of sleep before he heads to HQ.
Miguel smiles softly and shakes his head. “No. I’m not tired, but you must be. Shower, and I’ll have something for you to eat. Then you can sleep.”
“Oh, you don’t have to do that. Breakfast, I mean. I’ll…” you trail off, realizing your routine is going to be different for a little while. You look at Miguel and smile sheepishly, which makes him grin in amusement.
“Your routine is going to feel off for a few days but - I believe you’ll fall back into it again, which reminds me…” Miguel starts, meeting your gaze. His grin dissipates, amusement placed to the side for the time being because what he wants to tell you is serious. “I told you earlier that I want you to feel at home. I mean it. I know it’s going to be a little different. You’re not only going to be in a different environment from your own but in an entirely different universe. If you decide to stay here, of course,” Miguel says, still unsure of your thoughts on this.
You were reluctant earlier, and for all he knows, you’re only interested in staying here for a few days, even if he hopes for the opposite. “I’ve offered for you to stay here for as long as you need. It can be a few days, a few weeks, a few months…” Miguel says trailing off, almost saying you could stay here for years if you wanted to, but he stops just in time before he actually says it because you might find it strange that he’d be okay with this.
In fact, Miguel realizes right now that he’d be perfectly happy with it, which makes his cheeks feel hot. He clears his throat gently. “What I’m trying to say is that - My home is your home,” Miguel continues, his eyes still meeting yours. His gaze has been unwavering the entire time, hoping that he drives home his offer and that you understand that you're not a burden. “Whatever you decide to do, I’ll be there for you and respect it, just know you’re welcomed here. Please don’t feel like you’ll be a burden as you said earlier. You’re not,” he says much more softly. “I don't know how long you'd like to stay here. You don’t have to decide that now in this instant, but I do want you to know that whether you stay a day or months, you can use the penthouse however you want to. If you want to read in the living room like you always do back in your universe, or if you want to randomly bake cookies at 10am or 9pm, you can. If you want to use one of the offices, you’re more than welcomed to. Same as the laundry room -” Miguel pauses, thinking that maybe he’s overdoing it. He scratches his neck softly, his eyes moving away for a few seconds before they return to you. “I just want you to know that you don’t need to be limiting yourself or, feel like you need permission, or something like that. In any way. My home is your home.”
You nod gently, feeling appreciation and gratitude towards Miguel. There’s also tenderness swirling in your mixture of feelings. Here he is telling you his home is your home.
“And also - I know,” Miguel says with a small shrug and an apologetic smile, but he has been thinking about all of these things while you've been away. And, Miguel knows you very well. “You don’t have to worry about groceries or anything like that. Unless it’s something that can only be acquired from your universe, then yes, but otherwise, don’t worry about it, okay?” Miguel says, staring intently at you with his hands on his hips now.
“About bills-” you start.
“Nor about paying bills. Or rent,” Miguel says lifting his hand, and pointing at nothing in particular, a signal that he had that on his mind as well. Miguel mentally runs through his list of points. While he waited for updates from Lyla about you, he thought of these details. He thought about how your daily routine will feel off for a few days and how you’ll probably want to pay for staying here. Miguel stares at you, noticing you want to debate this. “Please. I know that if it was me, you’d do the same,” Miguel adds softly, hoping to make you see his side. His words, Miguel notices, seem to hit home because he sees the shift in your eyes.
You nod once more and sigh softly. You shake your head at him, a small smile forming on your face. The exhaustion is hitting but you still find it in yourself to smile to him. “You know me - too well,” you say quietly because his words have struck home. Miguel is absolutely right. If it was him in your situation, you’d be telling him the exact same things down from asking him not to worry about bills nor groceries, and about making himself at home at your apartment. You’d be trying to be as helpful as possible, to comfort him as much as you can. A part of you still wants to discuss some of these points, but you decide to leave it for later.
Miguel’s eyes lit up as he sees your small, tired but nonetheless sweet smile. He feels like he has finally made his point after all his talking with just a few words. Miguel returns the smile. “I’ll be making breakfast while you shower. If you need anything - at all - just tell Lyla and she’ll let me know. Don’t worry about anything else for now,” Miguel says and nods to the stairs, as if silently asking you to go on.
You nod and give Miguel a playful grin that fills his chest with warmth.
“Alright, I’m going to go shower. I’m probably stinking up your penthouse like smoke,” you say, nodding to the stairs. “Before I go though - I just want to thank you for everything, Miguel. I truly appreciate it,” you utter softly, your tone filled with sincerity and gratitude.
Miguel nods gently, his lips curling into a soft smile. “Always.”
You smile back at him and nod.
“Go on. I’ll be down here. Let me know if you need something, alright?”
“I will, thank you,” you reply softly, still smiling at him. You give him a nod, and with that you, you head upstairs.
You enter Gabriel’s bedroom, finding your belongings more organized than you left them. You also notice that Miguel has added another blanket, a fuzzy one.
You gather everything you need for your shower, including a change of clothes. Before you exit the bedroom, you pause at the door and look out the window. The sun is already making its way up in Nueva York. You grin softly before you head to the bathroom to shower at last. You shower quickly and do everything you need to after your shower, dressing into comfortable clothes. You hope not to sleep all day but you recognize your body is tired and needs to rest for a bit. Besides, you have a feeling that Miguel might get on to you if you don’t, which you find endearing.
You head back downstairs once you’re done, feeling clean and fresh. You mentally tell yourself to wash your suit once you wake up. It’s one of the many things you’ll need to do. You start thinking about setting up your room for the time being and about the little things you’ll have to do back home, like taking out the food from the fridge that will go bad if it hasn’t already, since you’re certain the fire was an electrical one considering there was no power when you were evacuating civilians out of the building. There’s also your laundry, and other small things of the sort to think about. You silently think about creating a list as you finally reach the kitchen.
Miguel turns at the sound of your footsteps. He notices the look on your face, the one you get when you’re lost in thought, and he’s sure you’re already thinking about the many things you wish to do.
“We’ll get things sorted out,” Miguel says softly as you take a seat at the counter at last. He notices the little sigh that escapes past your lips and the way you slightly lean on the counter to get some relief. He thinks about how you’ve been on your feet since you woke up; swinging, crawling, and carrying people nonstop. The closest you got to a break was when you took the painkillers and drank water.
Miguel is sure that now that you’ve showered and you’ve sat down, that all your aches and exhaustion will truly begin to surface. “Eat some breakfast. Rest. And then, we can do everything that needs to be done, alright?” he adds, as he places two glasses in front of you. One with orange juice and the other with water, opting not to offer you coffee right now so you'll rest properly.
You nod and give him a tired smile. “Alright. Thank you, truly,” you say quietly as you grab the glass with water since your mouth feel a little dry. You chug it down gently, finding relief, before you set it back down.
Miguel takes the glass and refills it for you before placing it back and checking on the stove. He stirs the food he's cooking, making it the only noise that fills the space. You don’t know what Miguel is cooking, but whatever it is, it smells fantastic and makes your mouth water. You drink more water as Miguel cooks, his back to you. You close your eyes for a bit, feeling the need to close them.
“Hey, how are you doing?”
You open your eyes and find Lyla. She floats near your face with a concerned look on her face, so you offer her a smile. “I’m alright, thank you. What about you?”
“I’m well, thanks. Glad to hear you’re okay,” Lyla replies with a little grin, though her eyes still show concern. “You did well.”
“Thank you. Also… thank you for respecting my wish and not telling Miguel,” you quietly tell Lyla though you’re sure Miguel is not even listening as he opens cabinets to get some items out.
“You got it, boss. I would’ve told him if I saw that you were in danger but,” Lyla pauses with a proud smile. “You were killing it. Miguel and I were just watching you in awe.”
“Breakfast is about to be ready,” Miguel says from the stove.
Lyla and you both turn to Miguel and share a little grin.
“Well, you did amazing but you really need to rest now. I agree with Miguel on this one,” Lyla says. “So rest up. Please.”
You nod with a little smile.
“Hm, didn’t know she had that term in her vocabulary,” Miguel comments as he places a plate with food in front of you.
“I do, I just don’t use it for you. Only with special members,” Lyla says with a shrug, which reminds Miguel of something Lyla said a while back. She mentioned you are one of her top five favorite members. Miguel silently wonders once again what your spot is, and who are the other four members. He has a feeling Spider-Plushie, Spider-Cat, Spider-Wolf, or Spider-Rex are up there with you.
He clears his mind and gives you utensils along with napkins, making sure you have everything so you can eat properly. Lyla has already disappeared.
“Thank you. My mouth is watering,” you tell Miguel as you look at the food.
“Go ahead and start eating. Your body needs it to recover,” Miguel says gently, gesturing for you to eat.
You take a bite and involuntarily close your eyes at the flavor. You would happily pass away right now with this amazing food.
Miguel watches your reaction, smirking softly at the sight and feeling pleased. He thought by now he would be used to it but each time, without failure, the sight of you smiling and enjoying the food makes him joyous. It’s so satisfying for some reason.
“Are you not eating?” you ask, looking at him now with wonder in your eyes.
The question brings him back to the moment and he nods. “Yes. Yes, I am,” he replies, offering you a little smile before he turns around to fix himself a plate. For a moment he forgot about himself, being more concerned with you eating first. He serves himself breakfast before joining you at the counter, taking the seat he always does. He silently thinks about how you both always sit on the same chairs, as if you were assigned to them. He smiles at this thought before he turns to look at you, finding you enjoying your food.
His face softens at the sight, and he’s suddenly overwhelmed with a feeling he’s had ever since you first stepped foot into his home this morning, and one that has stayed with him. He feels the need to stay here with you, to work from home so he can keep an eye out for you while you rest. He doesn’t want to tell you this though. Miguel knows you well and is certain that you’d try to work, or even go to HQ to avoid “disrupting” his routine if he tells you about his plan. He takes his utensil, getting ready to eat as he thinks about it. He’ll go to HQ and stick around for an hour before he comes back for the rest of the day, but that’s a secret, for now.
He takes a bite of food, appreciating the flavor as he silently plans. He’ll be back in an hour and easily ask Jess or Peter if they can fill in for today’s planned missions. If there’s any missions regarding anomalies, he’s sure other members can handle such missions. Miguel pauses as he thinks of other members, thinking of your friends.
“The others might wonder where you are. Do you want me to tell them what happened, and that you’re here?” Miguel asks gently. “Or, do you prefer to let them know yourself?”
You put down your glass and think. You haven’t even thought about them, feeling too exhausted. “Do you mind telling them?”
“I don’t. I can tell them once I get to HQ. I can tell them that they can come see you once you’re up for it, if you’d like,” Miguel says after he cleans his mouth. “Which is another thing I forgot to mention earlier. I know they visit you often back at your universe, so they can come here if you’d like.”
You shake your head slightly. “Thank you but that’s alright. You’re been far too generous already.”
Miguel frowns softly. “I mean it. I wouldn’t mind it, but if you prefer not to, that’s your choice. Just know that I’m fine with it. As I said earlier - my home is your home,” Miguel says picking up his own glass and taking a drink.
You smile at the offer but you don’t want to take advantage of Miguel’s kindness. Besides, you know you can always visit your friends, or arrange to meet up at HQ. You find it sweet though, the fact that Miguel has offered his home to you, and that he has said his home is your home. Not once but three times now.
The two of you eat in silence, enjoying both the food and each other’s company. Miguel keeps the conversation short, as he knows you must be exhausted. When the two of you are done and Miguel notices you standing up and retrieving your dishes, Miguel moves quickly. He takes the dishes from you gently, shaking his head.
“Don’t worry about it. I got it. Go ahead and rest. Really,” he says as you start to protest. He sees your little frown, and Miguel wonders if this is what you feel like when you want to help him and he protests because he believes that you’ve done too much for him already. He wonders if you feel frustration when he declines politely the way you are now when all he wishes to do is look after you. He sighs softly and places your dishes on top of his before he turns to you. “I’ll be at HQ but if you need anything - at all - please let me know. And again, please make yourself at home. Also, don’t worry about anything else for right now. We’ll sort it out but you need to rest for now, okay?” he says softly, eyes meeting yours.
You nod, noticing the look on Miguel’s face. Concern is written all over it. For a few seconds you wish you weren’t making him this concerned before your mind moves on to the fact that he said “we” when referring to tasks you’ll need to get done, as in the two of you will figure things out together. It’s the second time he’s said it and his words comfort you, deeply. You blindly thought your building would never go through a situation like this one and even less that you’d go through it without Peter. Sure, you were both prepared because that was the responsible thing to do, but you never thought you’d actually have to retrieve the file organizer for such a circumstance - that you’d be packing without Peter. You’re overwhelmed suddenly with the thought that you would’ve been alone for all of this if it wasn’t for Miguel. If you weren’t in the Spider Society, this morning would’ve been very different. You swallow the knot that’s forming in your throat and nod again, feeling emotional and so exhausted. “Okay, I will. I guess - I’ll be here,” you reply quietly, feeling like all your exhaustion is hitting you at once now that you’ve showered, eaten, and have relaxed. The adrenaline has finally worn off, and now you’re all emotion and exhaustion.
“Good,” Miguel replies gently, offering you a small smile. “I’ll let the others know you’re here, so they’re not too worried about you.”
You nod, biting your lower lip subtly and looking away for a few seconds. “Alright, be careful, please.”
Miguel blinks softly at the words, caught by surprise. He nods regardless and offers you a small but reassuring smile. “I will.”
With that, you nod and turn around. You walk towards the living room to head upstairs but pause at the doorway - having the need to say more.
Miguel stands up once he sees you pause. He wonders if something’s wrong. Perhaps you didn’t notice you had injuries earlier but now you’re feeling them, or maybe you’re so tired you’re disoriented. He takes three steps forward before you turn around and meet his gaze.
“Miguel?”
“Yes?” he responds softly, worry etched on his face.
“I think - I’m really tired. My exhaustion is hitting at last and that’s probably why I really want to tell you something I usually wouldn’t.”
Miguel’s eyebrows rises slowly, wondering.
“I truly appreciate everything you’ve done. I don’t think I will ever be able to thank you enough even if I said it a million times but it means so much to me,” you start. “You showing up and respecting my decision for no backup, but sticking around just in case. Helping me with my belongings and of course, offering me to stay here and trying to make me feel at home,” you add with a wavering voice. “It means so much to me and I wish -” you swallow gently, definitely feeling exhaustion take its toll on you, making it harder for you to hold back from expressing sentiments you’d usually hold close to your heart with Miguel. The words roll out of your mouth quickly and your voice quivers as if you were making a dire confession. “I wish I could give you a hug - a really tight one - just to emphasize with more than words - how much it means to me.” You pause for a second before finishing. “And I should go to sleep before I keep saying things. I hope that didn’t make you uncomfortable, and if it did, I’m really sorry.”
You nod quickly before walking away, not wanting to make Miguel feel more uncomfortable than he probably already is by lingering around. You leave Miguel behind, who watches you leave with a soft expression on his face. His cheeks are flushed and his hands form into soft fists as he stands alone now.
He continues to stare through the doorway, only seeing part of his living room now, and wonders… What would it be like? What would it be like to let you do exactly what you wish to do? What would it feel like to be hugged again? To feel warm arms wrapped around him? And what if he hugged you back?
Miguel sighs deeply as he leans on the counter before he gently hits the countertop with his fist.
What if?
Miguel’s mind is clouded with your words, with the possibility. He has been thinking about it for weeks now - two months, really. He has been thinking about it ever since Thanksgiving when the two of you, at his request, invited your friends over because there was so much food even after you both ate. He was caught up with the younger members, the spiderlings as you call them, a nickname that Miguel finds endearing and that he has found himself using mentally - even catching himself almost saying it verbally at times. The spiderlings were asking him questions about his sound system and he ended up showing them other devices from his universe. He remembers looking over from the living room to the kitchen and dining area and finding you leaning your head on Peter B.’s arm, so at ease.
For some reason, ever since that night, Miguel has been thinking about it more. About how much more open you are to physical touch. He notices it more these days. From the little gestures like high-fives to the big gestures, like on New Year’s Eve just a few weeks ago when Noir and Spider-Ham were talking to him and he realized you were suddenly gone from his side. He ended up finding you talking with Peter B.. Miguel relaxes his fists as he remembers, vividly, Peter’s arm around your shoulder and once again, how comfortable you were. The sight only added more fuel to his thoughts about physical touch.
Miguel looks at his pinky. There has been some physical touch. Some of it has been unintentional, of course. Miguel is not opposed to physical touch when it’s necessary, like on missions. He picks up civilians, carries them. When spider-people are in danger and need a hand, he lends one but on his day to day life, his personal life - Miguel has been limited. All contact in these situations involve having his suit on, so no skin to skin contact is made. Ever since losing Gabriella, the only person he has touched - with his bare hands and nothing in between - has been you with the pinky squeezes. He also remembers holding Mayday the day you were babysitting her but that’s it.
It’s just you and the pinky squeezes. The first time he did it, he didn’t even plan on it. It happened. All he knows is that his pinky was suddenly wrapped around yours, and he gave a little squeeze. Now there’s been a few other times, the last one being on New Year’s Eve. Everyone was hugging and welcoming the new year, and Miguel thought - after seeing all your friends hug you - that he’d try and give you a “hug” in his own way. It was also his way to comfort you a little bit after you cried, which made his heart ache even if you were crying “happy” tears as you said to him that night.
Besides the pinky squeezes, that’s all there has been, except for the first time he touched you. Miguel sighs as he realizes it will soon be two years since that day, making him wonder where the time has gone. He remembers it vividly, however, how he pressed his hand to your forehead almost two years ago to see if you had a running fever. He didn’t even think about it in the moment. Before he knew it, his bare hand was pressed to your skin and it was the first time since Gabriella that Miguel had touched anyone skin to skin.
Your words have Miguel standing here now, in his kitchen, contemplating. That’s not all though. He feels his heart speed up at the fact that you said you wished you could hug him, that you were telling him something you normally wouldn’t tell him and it was this. It means you’ve wished to hug him before. Miguel silently wonders how many times have you wished for this? He’s seen the way your hands sometimes reach for him but stop halfway, remembering his boundaries but how many times have you wanted more than pat his hand or arm? How many times have you wished to embrace him?
Miguel wonders again - what would it feel like to have the privilege of being hugged by you? What if he hugged you back, and embraced your warmth?
“Dios,” Miguel whispers as he stares down at his hands. He can feel a tingling, almost as if his own hands are asking - begging - him to go and feel.
He pushes himself off the counter and walks off, heading upstairs. His steps are quick but quiet to avoid disturbing you, and in truth, Miguel doesn’t know what he’s doing, not even when he reaches Gabriel’s bedroom door and he finds it ajar. He stands still and listens, his ears filled instantly with your soft breathing.
Miguel pushes the door open softly and sure enough there you are. You lay on the bed, under warm covers. The blanket reaches your collarbone area, keeping you warm. He steps in quietly, noticing the sunlight filtering through the windows and just before he calls for her, Lyla appears and gestures to the windows. Miguel nods gently as he watches his AI assistant give the command for the holographic blinds to lower. He watches for a few seconds as they’re lowered before he lifts his hand, giving a silent command to stop when they’re two thirds of the way closed as he doesn’t want you to wake up in full darkness.
He nods at Lyla who gives him a thumbs up and disappears, sensing that she needs to head out. Miguel watches you sleep. Your face is relaxed and there’s a soft look on your face. You’re, as always, hugging a pillow. Your breathing is soft and even - a sound that Miguel is far too well acquainted with, for this sound is his lullaby.
His hands still itch and he wonders, if you were awake, would he have done it? Would he have walked up to you and hugged you? Or would he have told you that you could hug him, and then he’d embrace you? Miguel shakes his head. There’s no use in thinking about it now. You’re asleep. Still… Miguel steps closer and extends his arm towards you. His index finger is inches away from your cheek.
Miguel retrieves his arm and drops it, telling himself you’re asleep and that it would be inappropriate to touch you, even if it’s only your face. He sighs quietly, looking around the room and making sure everything is alright. He wants to ensure that you’re safe and sound, one last time. Earlier when he came to place the blanket and organized your belongings a little better, he made sure that all the furniture was in good standing. He even made sure the floating shelves were secured to avoid any sort of injury, or to avoid your belongings falling.
Satisfied, Miguel glances back at you one more time. You’re fast asleep, resting after the exhausting early morning you had. He walks out of the bedroom, leaving the door the way you left it and returns back downstairs to make sure everything is turned off at the kitchen.
At last, Miguel heads to HQ, feeling like he’s missing something.
🕸️🕸️🕸️
Miguel closes a tab just as he hears people talking. He’d usually narrow his eyes in annoyance that people walked in unannounced - even if this is the norm from almost everyone - but today he requested this group specifically. He turns around as he hears the voices grow louder, and already, he can hear your name being mentioned.
“I sent her a message earlier to ask if she wanted a bagel. She seems to be offline,” he hears Gwen say.
“Offline? She’s never offline,” Miles replies, his tone uncertain about the situation.
“Maybe she needed a little break but… I think she would’ve told us she was doing that,” Peter B. adds with furrowed eyebrows. His gears already turning as he holds Mayday.
“That’s because I disabled her gizmo’s notifications,” Miguel says, immediately catching everyone’s attention.
“Is Y/N okay?” Pav asks, looking at Miguel with concern.
Miguel nods, his face softening at the sight of your concerned friends, especially from the younger members, the spiderlings. “She’s okay. She’s safe. Just - exhausted,” Miguel says to reassure your friends about your safety before he tells them about the fire. Your friends listen intently, concern clear on their faces as Miguel explains the situation, emphasizing that you’re safe and uninjured. “She’s here.”
“Here at HQ?” Noir asks.
Miguel shakes his head. “No. Not here at HQ. She’s here in Nueva York, but she’s staying at my place. I don’t know… For how long,” Miguel says pausing. He doesn’t know what your plans are. Will you be staying there for however is necessary, or will you try to go somewhere else? He tells himself that’s a question for later, for now all that matters is that you recover and rest. “But, she wanted to let you know that she’s okay. She has no injuries, thankfully. Her floor was spared from the fire, and we can only hope that the building remains stable,” Miguel continues. “I’m not sure that she’ll be here today. I think she should rest but, just know she’s safe.”
“Man,” Peter B. says almost in disbelief, hugging Mayday closer. “Why didn’t she ask for backup?”
Miguel turns to Peter B., agreeing more than ever on something with him. “She didn’t want backup. She asked Lyla not to notify anyone, but I’m sure you all know that she - she’s always -” Miguel pauses, feeling the stares from the members. “She’s always diligent. Always cautious. She’s - ” Miguel waves a hand around as if telling the members that they should know this. The members watch him, fighting the urge to smile because it’s not every day that Miguel O’Hara gives compliments. “She’s amazing, so she did well on her own,” Miguel finally manages to say. “She’s just exhausted. If you wish to tell her something, I’ll set it up so that the notifications don’t disturb her sleep, or you can wait till later in the day and maybe do a live call.”
Your friends nod, feeling sad that you’re going through this but they’re relieved that you’re uninjured and if all goes well, your apartment should be fine.
“What if the building becomes unstable and her belongings are all lost?” Margo asks.
Miguel turns to Margo, his eyes moving to everyone. His eyes stop on Jess, who raises one eyebrow at him, wondering, too. He nods at your friends.
“I offered to store her belongings here but I’ll ask her again.”
“We can help her move her items if she agrees,” Pav replies.
Miguel looks around, watching everyone nod at Pav’s statement. He feels comforted by the fact that your friends are so supportive.
“I’ll let her know,” Miguel responds gently.
He watches as your friends begin to talk, sharing ideas of things they want to do to be supportive. Miguel stares at them as they walk out, planning. He turns to Jess and Peter B. who stick around.
“I’m glad you guys stuck around. I wanted to ask you something,” Miguel starts, facing them.
“We’ll take care of it,” Jess responds.
“What?” Miguel replies, frowning.
“She said we’ll take care of it,” Peter B. says with a knowing smirk.
Miguel glances between the two of them.
“You’ll do your thing for about an hour and then go home, right? That’s what you’re doing.”
Miguel turns to Jess, still frowning.
“We got it, Miguel. You don’t have to worry. We’ve done it before, remember? About a year ago when you were injured. You go and, you know,” Peter say as he plays with Mayday’s hand, who looks up at him and nods her head, as if she, too is telling him to go.
Miguel loses the frown and nods, having no way to deny that they figured out his plan.
“Right. So you guys will be okay?” Miguel asks.
“Yes,” Jess replies. “You go and check on her. Give us the hour before you head out though. I’d like to put something together for her, and as you heard, the other members want to do something. That way you can take it to her.”
“I’ll let everyone know that we have about an hour,” Peter says nodding at Jess.
“Alright. I’ll be working on some things here,” Miguel replies gazing at the two members. “Thank you,” he adds, sharing a look with them.
“No problem,” Jess responds.
“Happy to help. We just want Y/N to be okay and feel supported. She loves her apartment so much, I’m glad the fire didn’t reach her floor,” Peter says.
“Me, too,” Miguel answers softly, turning away to begin working on his screens.
Jess and Peter B., unbeknownst to Miguel, share a knowing look before they head out.
🕸️🕸️🕸️
An hour later, Miguel closes out from his tabs, ready to head out. He would be lying if he said that he hasn’t been thinking about you or that he’s been asking Lyla to check on you while he’s away. It’s been reassuring to have her check on you, at least.
Miguel quickly gathers different items that he needs to take with him, since he’s decided that he’ll be working from home for the rest of the day and then, he waits on his platform. Jess and Peter told the others he’ll be heading out to check on you and that he might not come back, even though they both know he’s not coming back today for sure. He looks up just as your friends come into view, carrying bags with them.
He receives bag after bag, nodding at your friends as they share tidbits about the items they bought you. Miguel finds it endearing, of course. His lips twitch, wanting to curl into a smile as the younger members mention buying your favorite snacks from their universe.
“I’ll give her everything when she wakes up,” Miguel promises, finding common ground with your friends.
Your group of friends thank him but before they head out, Miguel remembers something. “I’ve enabled her notifications again, only for you guys, so if you wish to send her something, it’ll go through.”
Your friends nod happily at the news and as Miguel prepares to leave, he can hear their giddy voices about being able to send you messages again. He shakes his head and smiles softly before he heads out, ready to check on you.
It doesn’t take long for Miguel to reach his home. He finds himself quickly there and after placing all the bags your friends sent on the kitchen counter, Miguel heads upstairs to check on you. He finds you in bed, still sleeping. You’ve changed sides but you’re still holding on to your pillow. The sight satisfies him. He’s relieved that you’re resting and that you seem so peaceful after everything.
Miguel heads back to his bedroom and takes a shower since he didn’t take one before leaving for HQ and dresses in comfortable clothes. His plan is to stick around the penthouse for the day and help you get settled in. He also wants to look around the penthouse and make sure there’s space for you to set your items if you wish to, since all Miguel wants is for you to feel at home.
After checking the entire place for any necessary changes, Miguel starts thinking about lunch. He debates between ordering takeout or cooking something and ultimately decides to cook, believing that a homemade meal will be more appreciated. He thinks about what he should cook and eventually decides on a few dishes, knowing he has the items necessary before he checks on your universe. He knows you always do a morning patrol so he has Lyla check and make sure there’s no emergencies. He also checks on your building to make sure that it’s still standing. He sighs in relief when he sees that it is through his screens at home. He reminds himself to offer to bring the rest of your belongings again once you wake up since even your other friends offered, meaning everyone is on board.
Miguel works on other things throughout the morning, reading data from other universes - making sure the fate of the multiverse isn’t in jeopardy but every thirty minutes or so, he asks Lyla to check on you since he doesn’t want to end up waking you by accident with him checking on you physically. Thankfully, Lyla reports that you’re well and still sleeping peacefully.
It’s not until almost noon that you wake up. You feel lost for a few seconds, not realizing where you are until you remember that you’re in Miguel’s penthouse after what happened this morning. You sigh heavily and sit up, pushing the covers off you and stretching. Your muscles feel sore but stretching eases them so you spend a few minutes doing this until you feel slightly better. You get out of bed and head to the bathroom to use it before you return to the bedroom to change out of your current clothes. You change into comfortable clothes yet they help you wake up and get into the errand mindset. You have some things you wish to do today, at least the high priority ones.
Feeling a bit more together, you head downstairs to get some water since you’re feeling thirsty but pause when you hear soft music. You frown slightly, wondering if you’re just imagining it since you’re certain that Miguel is at HQ but when you reach the bottom of the stairs and find yourself in the living room, you hear it clearly. Miguel’s record player that you gifted him for Christmas about a month ago is playing. You stand there for a few seconds, appreciating the music as it’s Billie Holiday’s “Blue Moon” - one of your favorite songs of hers.
“And then they suddenly appeared before me, the only one my arms will ever hold”
“You’re awake.”
You turn, surprised. “Miguel.”
“How are you feeling?” he asks as he walks further into the living room. His eyes scan your face subtly, searching for any sign of trouble or illness, however, his mind quickly returns to your words from this morning. Thinking about that leads him to remember his internal debate about opening more to physical touch and how he almost touched your cheek in your slumber, causing his cheeks to feel warm suddenly.
“Better. So much better,” you reply honestly, giving him a small smile. You don’t seem to remember what you said, at least not now. “My muscles feel a little sore but, I feel rested. Thank you for asking. For everything, truly,” you add sincerely, which triggers your memory suddenly. You freeze for a few seconds as you remember, feeling your cheeks turn hot with embarrassment, so you avert your gaze from Miguel’s. “I… I just remembered what I said this morning and,” you pause, scratching your neck gently, nervously. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable with what I said. The words were just - rolling off my mouth.”
Miguel stands about twelve feet away from you, noticing the way you avert your gaze from him, the way you nervously scratch your neck, and how embarrassed you seem suddenly. He feels ternura rush through him as he stares at you. It’s the opposite of what you think you’ve made him feel, so he steps closer, wanting to assure you.
“You didn’t make me uncomfortable, so please don’t stress about it. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about either. I understand you were exhausted, it’s only reasonable, and besides…” Miguel trails off, and now he’s the one scratching his neck nervously at what he’s going to say. He’s never actually talked about it, not even with Jess who seems to have been the one who told you about it some time ago - about him not being able to do physical touch. “You know the reason why I can’t but… I want you to know something.”
You turn to face him, your eyes meeting his. You both stare at each other with a soft, tender expression.
“I feel honored that you - you want to do that,” Miguel says quietly, holding your gaze. “That I’m somehow worthy of you wanting to - embrace.” Miguel pauses and looks away for a few seconds. “You know that I’m trying,” he continues, his eyes meeting yours again. He lifts his hand, his pinky finger being the only finger that’s straighten up. “I know it’s nothing compared to an actual embrace but I’m working on it.”
You nod gently, smiling warmly at him. This is the first time Miguel has ever brought up the pinky squeezes or physical touch for that matter. You’ve known for some time now that his pinky squeezes are intentional but hearing Miguel audibly admit that they are makes your heart flutter with happiness.
Miguel gives you a small smile, still holding his pinky finger up. He remembers this morning and how he was feeling - how he went upstairs, not knowing what he would’ve done if you had been awake.
You slowly lift your hand, your pinky finger out, returning the gesture from a far.
Miguel sees it, of course, and with his mind on this morning’s events, he steps closer before pausing. He stays still for a few seconds before he takes several more steps until he’s just about three feet away from you - your pinkies within reach now.
You watch him gently, with curious eyes. So far, Miguel has always found some kind of loop, an excuse to make the gesture seem unintentional. There’s always an object exchanged between the two of you that allows the pinky squeeze to happen, to make it seem like the gesture wasn’t planned.
Miguel looks down at your pinky and then his. Your hands are empty, and so are his. He has no way to excuse his gesture, and he’s not sure that he wants one anymore. He moves his hand closer, his pinky just inches from yours. He looks at you, his beautiful red eyes meeting yours and you see it clearly. A question. Is it okay?
You nod, still smiling softly at him but keeping your hand still. You know the significance of this moment, how big of a step this is for Miguel in his journey to move forward. You stand still, giving Miguel time to decide if he really wants to do this. You’ve never pushed his boundaries, and you have no intentions of doing that now, or ever. You’ll always be patient and respectful of him, no matter what.
Knowing this, Miguel slowly moves his pinky towards yours. He feels comfortable and unhurried as you stand there, letting him decide if he wants to proceed.
And he does.
Miguel’s pinky touches yours at last, making your fingers look like an “X” for a second before Miguel wraps his finger around yours gently.
You remain still, feeling Miguel’s warm finger wrap around yours. You can see the size difference - the way the tip of his finger is enough to wrap around yours. His finger feels soft and you feel a little overwhelmed with the fact that this is happening, that Miguel is really doing this. Just when you’re growing used to this feeling, you see and feel Miguel’s pinky give yours a gentle squeeze. You lift your gaze from your united pinkies to his face, finding him staring at your fingers, too. There’s a light blush grazing his cheeks and when his gaze meets yours, you can see vulnerability and yet, happiness, too.
Miguel holds your gaze, and smiles softly at you. He's done it. It's a small step but a big one regardless.
You don't squeeze his pinky back but slightly brush your finger against his, a sensation that Miguel finds comforting. You stay like this for a minute, or maybe two until your gizmo goes off. The sound startles the two of you but your pinkies remain locked with each other for a few more seconds before you feel Miguel’s pinky release yours gently, leading to both of you dropping your arms down at your sides. You both feel the loss of touch but of course, neither of you mention it.
“That’s probably your other friends. They were really worried about you when I told them what happened,” Miguel says gazing at you. “They sent you gifts - they’re in the kitchen, which reminds me, I have lunch ready if you’re hungry.”
Miguel gestures to the kitchen just as your hunger hits you. You grin sheepishly at him and nod. “I’m actually starving… Thank you, Miguel,” you tell him sincerely, feeling grateful not only for offering lunch but for everything else, especially what he opened himself to do just now. You offer him a smile, warm and sweet, as you think about this new step he has taken. You also hang on to the fact that he said your “other” friends, indirectly calling himself your friend.
“Always,” Miguel replies softly, his gaze still meeting yours as he’s overcome with a great happiness. He has been trying for months, ever since his near death experience back in the spring. He briefly realizes soon it’ll be a year since that happened, which is crazy to him - how fast the months have gone by. However, he’s relieved by the fact that he has stuck to his promise. He said he’d be trying, and he has. His steps may be small and slow, but they’re steps nonetheless, and they’re steps that he might have not taken if it wasn’t for you and that incident. “C’mon,” he says, gesturing for you to follow him. “I cooked something I think you’ll love.”
You follow Miguel to the kitchen, spotting bags on the counter. You figure those are the things that your friends sent, but decide to look at them later. For now, you take a seat as Miguel gestures for you to do so, and realize what he made.
“Flautas,” Miguel says as he carefully but quickly serves you a plate with flautas. The toppings are already set out since Miguel placed them right before he was about to go and check on you. After placing your plate down, Miguel retrieves glasses before he pours you a glass of agua de Jamaica, freshly made.
You watch in appreciation at how extra attentive Miguel is right now. He is always attentive but somehow, he’s even more so today. You thank him quietly and offer Miguel a smile, who is trying to make sure that you have everything you need.
“Always,” Miguel replies, taking notice of your smile. This morning you were giving him smiles and while they were warm and welcoming as always, he could see they were small and exhausted smiles. It was visible to Miguel that the fire took a toll on you, both physically and emotionally. Now, your smile is the same as always. It’s warm, welcoming, and bright. It’s lively, and the difference makes Miguel happy and relieved. He reciprocates with a soft smile, his gaze warm. “Do you feel rested?”
“I do, thank you. For the food and for- ,” you pause, smiling. “For everything.” You give Miguel a little nod, deciding to keep it simple and not go off like you did earlier. “I think I passed out as soon as I laid down,” you say, chuckling a little. “I don’t remember even falling asleep.”
Miguel grins softly, though his mind turns to this morning when he went into your bedroom. He feels embarrassed thinking about how he almost brushed his finger over your cheek as you slept peacefully. He clears his throat, trying to put that thought away. “I’m glad that you feel rested, and I’m not surprised you fell asleep so fast. You helped evacuate so many people, including that firefighter who was injured. It was a lot and you were - well, you were amazing,” Miguel says gently, remembering that you were a bit sensitive when he said that earlier. He doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable with his words but he also cannot seem to stop himself from telling you the truth.
You smile at him, your cheeks growing warm as Miguel tells you, once again, that you were amazing. You look away a bit shyly, something that Miguel notices. It’s not often that he sees you like this, and he can’t help but find it sweet.
“Thank you, that means a lot to me. I was just - really hoping no one was hurt. Thankfully there were no tenants injured, at least not seriously. Some of them had a few bruises from them rushing to get out, but there were no casualties.” You pause, thinking about your building. “My building… I hope it’s still standing, and hope it remains like that.”
“It’s still standing,” Miguel quickly says to reassure you. “I’ve been checking on it.”
You sigh in relief. “That’s good, that’s… I’m so relieved. I need to go and check on the area, see what’s happening. I think it was an electrical fire,” you say before you start adding toppings to your plate, and taking a gentle bite.
Miguel’s eyebrows shoot up as he hears this. He hasn’t thought about the cause of the fire, but now that you’ve mention your suspicion, he can’t help but think about the condition of your building. He recalls the time he fixed some things in your kitchen, asking you about those little details. Your building is on the older side, and now that you’ve mentioned it possibly being an electrical fire - it makes Miguel wonder if the building is even up to standards on the electrical aspect. The possibility that it’s not, worries Miguel.
“What did you notice?” he asks.
You wipe your mouth before telling Miguel about the notice your landlord gave out, and the young women you ran into on New Year’s Eve and their short conversation, to how the fire seems to have started on their floor.
“Of course, I’m not saying it was them but… It does lead me to believe that maybe because of the holidays there were other tenants who overloaded the circuits. I’m not really knowledgeable on this but you know,” you say softly and Miguel nods. “That’s why I think it was an electrical fire. I wonder how soon they can figure it out. I don’t think it was arson, but I guess I’m just being wishful.”
Miguel nods and considers your words. “Maybe it was an electrical fire.” He frowns softly to himself as he pours some agua de Jamaica for himself. “Perhaps they have an idea by now of what happened.”
“I hope so. I would like to know.”
“Well… how about we eat and then we can head over there?”
“I would appreciate it, but I don’t want to disrupt your day. You probably have so many things to do at HQ.”
Miguel takes a seat next you, placing his plate in front of him. “Don’t worry about it. Jess is there and so is Peter. If there’s an emergency, they’ll let me know. Everything else I can keep track of from here, and I’ve taken care of a lot of tasks already throughout the morning.”
“Are you sure?” you ask, looking at him, unsure. The last thing you want to do is disrupt his day when you know how important the fate of the multiverse is to him.
“Yes, I’m sure,” Miguel replies with a small grin.
The two of you eat and listen to music while Miguel tells you about your friends, and how worried they were about you. You smile all the while, feeling grateful for such amazing friends. After finishing eating, Miguel begins cleaning the kitchen, telling you not to worry about helping him even when you offer. So, you find yourself sitting at the kitchen counter with a piece of paper and a pen, jotting down everything you need to do while Miguel quietly cleans. You make a list quickly, mentally walking through your apartment and remembering what needs to be taken care of immediately.
Once you finish creating your list, you head upstairs and change into dark clothes because you remember that your suit is dirty from the morning and you have yet to wash it. To hide your face, you wear a hoodie. When you head back downstairs, Miguel looks at you with a bit of surprise before he remembers your suit.
“Your suit,” he says. “I forgot to tell you that we could put it to wash. It would’ve been ready by now if I had remembered.”
“It’s alright, please don’t worry about it. With so much happening, washing the suit was the last thing I was thinking about.”
“We can put it to wash right now while we’re out,” Miguel offers, and you decide to take him up on that offer.
After putting your clothes to wash, you meet Miguel in the living room. You find him inspecting something small in his hands, and upon hearing you join him, he turns fully to face you. He extends his arm out to you, offering a small device. You look at him and then back at the device with curiosity before you take the device from his hand.
“So you can have a digital suit on” Miguel explains. “It’s just a black and grey suit with a simple spider web design. I remember I had it from the early days just laying around in the office upstairs. That way your face can be covered just in case there’s civilians.”
Nodding, you inspect the small device before you smile at him. “Thank you, I really appreciate it. Definitely don’t want anyone to get any ideas about my identity.”
Miguel helps you set up the digital suit, telling you how to disengage it, which takes a few tries but eventually you get it. You can’t help but think of all the pros of having a digital suit as you look at your hands, reminding you of the time Miguel offered a new suit after he unintentionally ripped a bit from his accident several months ago. You grin at him once you disengage the mask.
“Very cool. I could get used to this, I think,” you tell him and he grins back.
“It’s nice having not to worry about washing a suit but there’s some cons,” he replies as he engages his, suddenly standing in his suit in the blink of an eye. He disengages the mask, still grinning at you. “Something could happen - a malfunction - and leave your identity exposed. I guess that’s really the big con. You could also accidentally break the chip, and well, you’re left with nothing, not even a malfunction to fix. It’s happened before,” he says with a frown, remembering the time it happened.
You chuckle softly at the way he frowns which makes him smile gently at you.
“You could also accidentally delete the file, or your AI assistant does it because she thinks it’s funny.”
“Lyla,” you say with an amused smile.
“Lyla,” Miguel repeats shaking his head. “I have these bags ready so we can transport things easier, at least when traveling the multiverse,” Miguel says showing you.
“Thank you, that’ll definitely make it easier to move some things around.”
“Great, you ready?”
Once you nod, Miguel opens a portal to your universe. The two of you step out onto a random rooftop before you make your way to your building. You look for a few minutes at the condition. It looks different in daylight and without the adrenaline pumping through your body. In daylight and with no smoke, you can see the true damage. You say nothing but both you and Miguel can see that reconstruction will take some time. At least two months or so, if you and the other tenants are lucky. The only thing that gives you hope is the fact that the building is stable, or it seems to be.
“It would’ve fallen by now if it was unstable, right?” you ask Miguel softly.
Sensing that you want some reassurance, Miguel gently nods, and thankfully he doesn’t have to lie. He’s sure that it would’ve already collapsed, or shown signs, if it was going to but your building stands firm. “I’m sure it would’ve. I also…” Miguel trails off as his eyes scan the sidewalk, looking for some kind of warning. “I don’t see any sign warning about it. And look, the street is functioning. Surely they would’ve blocked the entire thing. It seems to be stable.”
You nod as your own eyes sweep the area, finding no sign like Miguel said, which relieves you.
“Do you want to head inside?” Miguel asks, wondering if maybe you need more time.
“Yes.”
With that, the two of you sneak into the building. You walk down the hallway, finding doors opened like you left them earlier this morning when you were making sure that everyone was out. Miguel looks around, his nose immediately registering the smell of smoke even though this floor was spared from the fire. You push the door open to your apartment, finding it ajar, and enter with Miguel behind. You look around for a few seconds, the smell of smoke is definitely here even if it’s not as strong as it probably is on the floors below.
Miguel stands back, letting you assess the space. He knows how much this apartment means to you, and he can imagine what you must be feeling right now. He’s glad your floor is still standing at least, but this is still a sad situation he wishes you hadn’t experienced at all.
“Right,” you say with a sigh. You disengage your suit and pull out the list you created earlier from a pocket, engaging the suit again minus the mask. “The fridge and food are the first thing.”
“You tell me what you need me to do, and I’ll do it,” Miguel says behind you, not wanting to overstep.
“I’ll go through the fridge. Do you mind taking out the food from the cabinets there?” you ask politely, gesturing to some cabinets.
“Not at all. I’ll pack it up,” Miguel replies as the two of you head into the kitchen area of your apartment.
You begin working on the fridge, cleaning it out to avoid spoiled food, and packing away things like drinks and other items that should still be good. You eventually move to the top of the fridge where you store your cereal. It was where Peter always placed it, and you kept it there even after his passing.
Packing away some cans of food, Miguel looks up as you place a cereal box labeled Spider O’s into a bag, catching his attention. He didn’t know you had your own Spider-Woman cereal. He continues to work on clearing out your cabinets, deciding it’s a story for later.
With the two of you working together, it takes twenty minutes to clean the kitchen. Miguel takes care of your garbage while you move to other areas of your apartment, like your living room. You eventually move to your closet to pack more clothes and other necessities while Miguel takes what’s already packed to his dimension. As he leaves to take two bags, you remember you haven’t agreed to staying at his place beyond tonight, reminding you that you still need to discuss that. You let yourself think about it as you pack other items until Miguel returns. A few minutes later, you’re taking out clothes from the dryer when he arrives.
“Need help?”
“No, it’s alright. I got it. I was packing my detergents when I remembered I have clothes on both machines.”
Miguel nods as he hands you a laundry basket for the damp clothes. “We can put those to wash again, if you’d like. They might smell like smoke.”
”Yes, you’re right,” you reply as you start placing the clothes on the laundry basket.
Miguel picks up another bag, closing it carefully. “Are there other bags ready for me to take?”
You gesture to some bags that mostly contain your clothes. “Those right there. This is the last of everything, so I can take some of them, too.”
“I can carry them, don’t worry. If you want to look around and make sure you have everything, go ahead. Take your time,” Miguel says softly, wanting to emphasize that you don’t need to rush.
“Thank you. I’m doing a quick scan but - looking at my list, that should be it,” you say as you pull out your list once again. You check it, looking for anything you may have skipped but find nothing. “That’s it from my list, but I’ll do one more round just to make sure.”
With your laundry basket pressed against your hip, you walk around the apartment trying to see if there’s anything else that needs to be done. You’re certain you’ll be returning over the next few days just to check up on things - maybe even open the windows a little bit while you do patrols to let the smell of smoke out. At last, you feel satisfied and see nothing else to do or retrieve, at least not at this moment. You sigh softly, thinking. You want to go downstairs, to the floors that were directly affected, but you say nothing.
Miguel and you return to Nueva York, to his penthouse. When you step out onto Miguel’s living room, you spot the bags. They’re all neatly aligned against a wall, ready to be unpacked.
“I’ve put the bags with food at the kitchen. I went ahead and put what was refrigerated in the fridge, so you don’t have to worry about that. I figure the rest of the non-perishable food can be organized later.”
“That sounds great, thank you,” you reply giving Miguel a warm smile. “You’ve helped me so much. I really appreciate it.”
“Always,” Miguel replies with a soft smile before he glances at the bags. “We organize those when we’re back?” You stare at him with curiosity, so he continues. “You want to look at the building, right? I’d like to go with you, just to make sure you’re safe. There may be loose debris.”
“You know me too well,” you reply, which makes Miguel smile once again. “I do want to look. Maybe it’s silly of me but, I’d like to for some reason.”
“It’s not silly,” Miguel says as he engages his mask again. “I’d want to do the same thing, so I understand completely. Whenever you’re ready.”
“I’m ready.”
🕸️🕸️🕸️
Miguel and you step over debris once you find yourselves on the main floor where the fire started. As Miguel predicted, there are loose wooden boards hanging from the ceiling in some areas. There are holes in the floor and what is left standing is damaged. You warn Miguel to be careful as you head to the first apartment you were in earlier this morning. Looking around, there are signs that this apartment had it worse than other areas, leading you to believe that this is where the fire started for sure.
“This was the first apartment I came into. The apartment belongs to the young women.”
“It seems to be in the worst condition,” Miguel says as he inspects a wooden board.
“I was thinking that, too,” you reply as you move about, careful not to hurt yourself. You keep an eye on Miguel as well, especially knowing that he doesn’t have a spidey sense, so he doesn’t end up injured.
You check what’s left of a wall, not really having a purpose for being here other than seeing the damage up close for yourself. You inspect the wall before moving away, your eyes scanning what’s left of burnt items. Your gaze stops on exposed wires, catching your attention immediately. Upon closer inspection, without touching, you read the label on them. Something about the brand’s name reminds you of something, but you can’t pinpoint it in this moment.
“What did you find?” Miguel asks standing next to you now, finding you gazing closely at something.
“Some wires. I think this is what’s left of a string of lights. I was just thinking how the brand’s name sounds familiar but I can’t remember from where,” you say with a shrug.
Miguel takes a look at it. Something about it also strikes him but he, too, cannot pinpoint it.
“OBRN.”
“OBRN,” you repeat but shake your head. “I’m probably overthinking, but finding this and seeing the state of this one apartment does seem like the fire started here. I guess we’ll have to see.”
Miguel frowns at what’s left of the string of lights, wondering how the tag survived the fire but dropping the topic for your sake. Despite resting during the morning, Miguel is sure this is still exhausting, if not physically, at least mentally and emotionally.
“Yeah, I guess we’ll have to wait,” he replies as you turn away, quickly typing something onto his gizmo before he follows you.
You sigh softly and nod at Miguel. “This is definitely going to take some time,” you murmur more to yourself than Miguel, sadness and disbelief laced in your tone.
Miguel detects it and stands next to you, trying to provide some comfort with his presence. “It’s going to be okay,” he whispers. “The building will be fully functional in no time, I’m sure.”
Smiling once again, you nod at Miguel’s words. “Yes… You’re right. Everything will be okay,” you state, embracing those words.
The two of you stand there for a few minutes in silence. You decide it’s time to go as you feel a breeze hit your unmasked face, causing you to shiver and remember winter just started.
“Do you want to head back?” Miguel asks, noticing the breeze and the way you shivered.
“Yeah, I think it’s time. It’s getting colder,” you reply.
“It is,” Miguel answers as he opens a portal for the two of you, finding it safe to do so in this space.
The two of you head back to Nueva York, which makes you realize Miguel has traveled from your universe to his multiple times today just to help you. As you travel between universes, you tell yourself you’ll bake something for him in the next few days as a way to show your appreciation for all his help and support. Once in Nueva York, you put a load of clothes to wash since most of your clothes smell like smoke. You also put your suit and the other clothes you had on this morning to dry with Miguel’s gentle encouraging to make yourself at home and to feel comfortable using the penthouse however you need to.
Afterwards, Miguel helps you organize the food that was brought from your home, finding cabinets to store it at without messing his kitchen organization, something you were worried about. Of course, Miguel didn’t mind at all.
After a little break and showering again because of the smell of smoke, the two of you move upstairs to your bedroom for the evening. You’ve made your mind up but there’s some things you want to talk about with Miguel, points you hope to discuss later.
In the meantime, you and Miguel fix the bedroom. You set up your personal hygiene products on the dresser while Miguel safely unpacks your records and places them on the bookshelf. You proceed to place Peter’s record player on the desk for now and other items that belonged to him on the bookshelf.
As you do that, Miguel moves towards a box he remembers carrying here earlier in the morning. He doesn’t know what’s in it but he carefully picks it up and asks where he should place it.
“That’s Peter’s… belongings,” you reply softly as you stare at the box.
Miguel notices your lingering gaze, the way it softens. He gently offers it to you, figuring that you want to handle this box personally. You smile at him with respect and endearment, and surprisingly, shake your head.
“I trust you with it. I’m not opening it right now. I haven’t opened it in… some time, to be honest,” you reveal, holding one of Peter’s belongings. “I think it can go under the desk for now. Thank you, Miguel.”
He nods with a soft smile, feeling touched that you trust him with this box knowing how much Peter and his belongings mean to you. He proceeds to place the box under the desk, carefully, before moving on to something else.
At last, the two of you are done. You both sit on the bed and look around the room, seeing the progress. All throughout the process of fixing up the bedroom, you’ve been keeping track of the laundry, a chore you decide to tackle tomorrow when you realize it’s been a few hours since you and Miguel headed to your universe. There’s also the fact that you haven’t done a patrol at your universe, something that nags you.
Looking around the room, you notice how this feels like “your” room now. There’s Peter’s record player on the desk and your technology devices. Your personal hygiene products and other accessories are on the dresser. Some of your pictures are displayed on floating shelves, some of which include Miguel.
“Thank you for helping me set up,” you tell Miguel quietly.
He nods, looking at some of the photos. “Always,” he says turning his gaze towards you.
You grin at him before you check the time on your gizmo. “I’m going to - head out for a little bit. To patrol,” you explain. “I didn’t do my morning patrol, and it feels weird.”
“Understandably,” Miguel replies. “It’s just for today though. You’ll fall back into your routine, I’m sure of it.” Miguel turns to the window, noticing the sun has almost disappeared for the day before he returns his gaze to you. “I’ll be here if you need anything during your patrol. Take it easy, okay?”
“I will,” you reply with a small grin before you stand up. “I’ll see you in a bit.”
Miguel nods watching you leave the bedroom and sitting in the room for a little while, thinking about dinner.
You head to your universe and patrol, feeling some sense of normalcy as you do this. You fly around your city, making your usual stops and feeling more at ease. Your night patrol makes you feel better as you swing between buildings and cars below, even when you think about Peter and his words from the dream. You give a silent thank you to him, finding his words soothing. Fortunately, you find no trouble or emergency, so you decide to head back to Nueva York an hour later, knowing you’ll still be able to know if something does happen.
It’s then that you receive a notification from Miguel telling you that he’s buying dinner and that he’ll wait for you on a rooftop, which makes you wonder for a few seconds before he sends coordinates. You head to Nueva York, traveling directly to the rooftop Miguel told you, realizing it’s a round building. You step out and look around, finding no one. You walk to the edge of the rooftop, looking at the nearby buildings and streets below in hopes of spotting Miguel. It takes you a few seconds but you eventually sense his presence through your spidey senses, or at least you believe it’s him. As you look around, you finally spot his suit as he swings from building to building with one arm while he holds things in the other.
He reaches you in no time, landing gently on the rooftop. His mask disengages as he approaches you.
“How did it go?” he asks.
“It went well,” you reply. “No encounters. It was peaceful.”
“That’s good,” Miguel says as he hands you a to-go cup. “I’m glad you had no trouble, especially after today.”
You thank him for the drink and nod. For some reason, it feels like it’s been days since the fire, as if it wasn’t this morning when you woke up and realized your building was on fire. You sigh quietly, chalking it up to the fact that it has been a long day.
“I hope you don’t mind but I bought tacos. There’s this great place in downtown and they make the best. I would say they have the best ones in Nueva York, really, and I thought after everything that it’d be nice to just eat out. Gabriel also used to say there’s nothing like tacos to lift someone’s spirits,” Miguel says with a soft smile as he gestures for you to join him.
You smile back and follow him as he reaches the edge of the rooftop. He places the bags on the ground before he sits down, his legs danging off the building. You look around for a few seconds before you join him, the bags between the two of you now. You watch as he pulls out boxes from a bag before he spreads the empty bag on the floor, and then placing the boxes over it so the boxes don’t make contact with the ground.
“That’s agua de horchata. I was going to get you agua de Jamaica but - the place is known for their agua de horchata, so I figured why not,” Miguel explains as he hands you a straw.
You grin and accept the straw before you try the drink, and of course, it’s amazing. “I can see why. It’s so good!”
Smiling, Miguel hands you napkins. “I thought you’d like it. On the tacos, I order a few of each since I didn’t know what kind you wanted, and I didn’t want to distract you while you were patrolling, so I thought this was a good option.” Miguel puts his straw into his cup, thinking. He’s telling a half-truth. He could’ve sent you a quick message about your order but he truly didn’t want to disturb you. He knows today has been a long day, not only because of the fire itself but the aftermath, too, with packing and taking care of the little things like the fridge and the food. He hoped that nothing came up at your universe so you could have a moment of peace, at least. Thankfully, it seems that it went well since he can see that you’re in good spirits. The other reason why he didn’t reach out about the food is because he wanted to surprise you.
He got the idea after you left and he remained in the bedroom, thinking about dinner. Being in Gabriel’s old room, Miguel remembered what his brother used to say about tacos, about how they could cheer people up. It was always his way to cheer up Miguel when he was stressed out, even back when Miguel was in college. Gabriel always joked that it was his love language, which always made Miguel laugh. He never dared to disagreed with the younger O’Hara on that.
Miguel focuses on the now as the two of you set up the salsas and lime slices to use on your tacos. Once that’s settled, the eating begins. You grab from one kind and Miguel from another, discussing how amazing the tacos are. Miguel tells you to try a salsa, while you tell him to try another one.
Despite the cold weather, the two of you enjoy your food and conversation on the rooftop, eventually talking about other things like your friends. The conversation about them leads you to remember their messages, which you read earlier, and the gifts they sent. You remind yourself to check the gifts once Miguel and you return to his place. At some point the conversation shifts and Miguel is telling you more about Nueva York. He tells you about the buildings around you before he tells you about the stores that can be found in Nueva York’s downtown. He mentions the public libraries, parks, and the Lunar Train, thinking to himself that he hasn’t been to those places in years but that it’d be nice to visit again. He looks at you when he thinks about that - an idea forming in his head but one he doesn’t voice. Not yet, anyway.
After eating, you thank Miguel for the amazing tacos. He asks which ones were your favorites, just so he knows for future reference before you both fall into a comfortable and peaceful silence, drinking from your cups with agua de horchata. Your gazes take in the skyline of Nueva York at night, a sight you’re not used to but one that you love and appreciate when you have the opportunity to. You silently think about how beautiful Nueva York is before you look down, noticing you must be about fifty thousand feet in the air.
Miguel continues to observe the skyline before his eyes move higher up, finding a sky sprinkled with stars. He feels at ease, comfortable like he always does when you’re in his presence. He takes another drink from his cup, thinking. You’ve settled in and things have been taken care off at your apartment for the time being but there’s still something pending. Something neither of you have brought up. He holds on to his cup, still looking at the sky. Should he bring it up now? Should he wait?
Miguel doesn’t want you to feel like he’s pressuring you to stay, or for you to take him asking as a sign that he doesn’t want you to when in reality, it’s the opposite. He hopes you stay at his place so you’re not staying at a hotel with limitations. Plus, he doesn’t like the idea of you staying alone at a hotel, even if he knows that you can take care of yourself. He sighs quietly as he stares at the stars, silently debating. He feels some peace knowing you’ll at least stay at his place for tonight, maybe even the weekend, too.
You look up from the ground and stare at the sky, noticing twinkling stars. You enjoy the sight as you start thinking about how your friends offered a place for you to stay at, especially the Morales family. You’re grateful for your friends and their loved ones who were also worried about you but you politely declined. Everyone lives with someone already whether that’s with parents, spouses, or other friends, like Hobie, so you felt that it would be too much of an inconvenience. The gesture makes you incredibly grateful, however. You have loving and supportive friends.
“What are you thinking about?” Miguel asks softly.
You grin. “Honestly? About how everyone has offered me a place to stay in the meantime.” Your gaze drops to Nueva York’s skyline again, feeling Miguel’s eyes on you. “And how I’m so thankful I have all of you. It really means a lot to me. So much,” you say with a soft sigh. “Perhaps I was naive, but I never imagined this happening and - much less without Peter, you know? I’m just… I’m really happy - and so thankful - that I’m not alone,” you confess, turning to face Miguel at last.
Meeting your gaze, Miguel smiles gently, understanding what you mean. He’s glad that you’re not alone anymore, which is something that still bothers him. He hates thinking about how you spent so many years on your own. As time has gone by, Miguel has found himself wondering about those years. Did you ever get sick? Did you ever find yourself unwell because of your period like you did the first time he ever went to your apartment? There were other things he thought about, like the first year without Peter when you had already cut ties with friends. Who was there for you? Who looked after you? Who comforted you?
Miguel knows there was no one, and it bothers him deeply. So much, that he still wishes he would’ve found your universe sooner, even thought you told him a while ago that he found you at the “right” time. His uneasy thoughts about this are soothed by the fact that those days are over for you. You have friends - a little family - that loves and supports you.
And he, thankfully, is part of it.
“You’re not alone,” Miguel says, stating it as a fact. “You have so many people that love and support you. We’re all here for you - the way you’re always here for us.”
You smile brighter at that. “Thanks to the Spider Society,” you say softly. “You know - I can’t believe I declined Jess’s invitation at first.”
Miguel grins, chuckling quietly. “I think I remember you saying multiple times, too.”
“I did. And she came back and asked me again, until she finally convinced me by asking me what Peter would’ve thought.” Your smile softens at the thought of him, your sweet Peter. You turn to the sky, thinking that if it wasn’t for him, you wouldn’t be here now. Even in death, Peter has guided and supported you throughout the years.
You think about your dream from this morning, how he warned you about the fire. or at least, it seems so. A warmth spreads throughout your chest as you turn to Miguel. If it wasn’t for Peter, you wouldn’t be here now, next to one of your closest friends. You silently thank Peter.
As to Miguel, he gazes at you, noticing that soft look on your face as you think about the man he never had the opportunity to meet. Despite never meeting the man, Miguel also silently thanks Peter for being the reason you joined the Spider Society - for having you in his life now.
You sigh and smile at Miguel. “I want to negotiate some terms.”
Miguel’s eyebrows raise at this but he quickly realizes what you’re talking about. He gives you a small but playful smirk before he turns his body to you, pulling one of his legs inside and close to his body while leaving the other one still dangling off the rooftop. “Let’s hear these terms then.”
You mirror his position, leaving enough space between each other to place your drinks. “Okay, well first of all - you said not to worry about bills or rent, or even groceries.”
“That’s correct.”
“I realize I cannot help with bills or rent because of our different currency.”
“Yes, and there’s no way for us to convert it either,” Miguel replies all too happily about this.
You playfully glare at him, which only serves to amuse him more. “Yet. We should find a way to do that, to be honest but - as to right now, there’s no way. However, I can buy groceries.”
Miguel saves your idea about establishing a currency conversion system for the future. It might be something fun for the Spider Society. He briefly realizes that he’s into this idea, which makes him recognize that he has shut down other members’ ideas in the past. He wonders.
Is it that he has changed his mind because of the years and his progress in moving forward, or is it because it’s coming from you? He doesn’t have much time to think of it, and he decides maybe it’s for the better, at least for now, before he addresses your statement about buying groceries. “No, you don’t have to do that. I told you this morning that I’ll take care of that. The only thing, food wise, that you need to worry about is if it’s something that’s not available here. Everything else, I got it.”
“But Miguel -” you start, pausing and releasing a gentle but frustrated sigh. “I know I can’t help with bills and rent but please let me help with this. I know you’re being generous - supportive but I don’t want to just, you know. Stay there for however long this will take or however long it’s okay for me to stay-”
“I’m not kicking you out,” Miguel says, losing his smirk for a few seconds. Now he’s the one frustrated. “I wouldn’t be offering if I was planning on asking you to leave at some point. You can stay there for however you need, or want to,” Miguel explains.
“Thank you,” you reply softly. “But that means, it might be a little while, and you’re already being so kind by letting me stay with you. I can’t - just stay there and not contribute somehow.”
“You can, you just don’t want to,” Miguel says gently, earning himself a playful glare again. He grins. “Alright, what are suggesting then?”
“I want to help with groceries, and other ways. I know it’ll be tricky with the groceries, and I don’t have a good plan yet but I want to contribute,” you reply.
Miguel chuckles softly, finding it both endearing and amusing when you admit not having a plan yet, but still wanting to contribute. Understanding where you are coming from, Miguel nods at last. He knows you’re an independent woman in all aspects and you’ve probably become even more so since you’ve lost Peter. He understands that you feel the need to do something, to contribute. He realizes he’s been the same way for years - always trying to be independent. Miguel silently wonders if maybe, this temporary change will help the two of you relearn that some forms of dependency are not bad.
“I understand wanting to contribute somehow and I’ll respect it, even though I want you to know that I mean it when I say you don’t have to worry about these things… What I’m trying to say is that, you don’t need to worry about some kind of payment, Y/N. If it was me, you would be telling me the same thing. I know it,” Miguel replies. “I’ll be more than happy to cook for the two of us, but I also know that on some days you might want to eat something that I don’t know how to cook, so you can buy groceries if you wish but,” Miguel pauses and shrugs, grinning softly. “We could always plan meals. If you want to, of course. Or, have days where we cook something individually, which I’ll always make a plate for you just in case you want to try it. We can think of something, I’m sure of it. We’re not strangers, we’re…” Miguel trails off and nods at you. “You would do the same for me, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes,” you reply quickly, without hesitation.
“Then, you understand. I don’t want any kind of payment. I don’t want you to worry about bills or contributing somehow. I just want you to feel at home as much as possible. I know it’s not the same as your apartment, as your universe but that’s my hope. I understand you want to do something though, so I’ll respect it. We can think of something as the days go by if it makes you feel better,” he offers gently.
“I’d like that. I don’t want this to feel like…” you trail off. “I’m taking advantage of you.”
Miguel shakes his head and smiles, reassuringly. “You’re not. You could never. I’m the one offering, and I’m doing it willingly and happily. I just want to help as much as I can. The same way you would help me.”
You sigh softly and nod. “Alright.”
“So, do we have a deal? Are you open to staying in Nueva York for the meantime?”
You hold Miguel’s gaze and nod. “Yes.”
“Good,” Miguel answers happily, relieved.
“Thank you,” you add gently.
“Always.”
The two of you smile at each other for a few seconds before turning to look at Nueva York’s skyline once again in silence, enjoying the rest of your agua de horchata under a star sprinkled sky.
_________
Next Part - Valentine's One-Shot Translations of Spanish words: Mierda - Shit Dios - God Ternura - endearment, tenderness Flautas - literally translates to "flute"; a deep fried tortilla with meat filling and topped with various toppings like cabbage, salsa, fresh cheese Agua de Jamaica - hibiscus tea Agua de Horchata - sweet Latin beverage, mainly made out of rice _________ A/N: Hi, guys!! First update of the year!! I hope January has treated all of you well! 🥰 I'm sorry for the delayed update. I got caught up with some things after the holidays, and then decided to take a little break from social media and writing, so that delayed the update a little bit. I'm so happy that I got the update out before the end of the month though! What do we think, though? WE'RE STAYING AT MIGUEL'S PLACE!! 🥺 And he's so sweet about making you (us) feel at home (not me fangirling about my own work but it's Miguel)!! I just - I love him!! And Miguel being opened to more physical contact? He's moving forward!! 🥹 I hope you guys enjoyed this part!! I also want to give @sunsetdoodler credit and a shoutout for the Spider O's cereal! She included it in this fanart many months ago and I loved it so much I wanted to include it at some point. It'll show up again in the future for sure! Thank you @sunsetdoodler !! Your support means so much to me!! ❤️ Also, shoutout to Ana, or @faretheeoscar who led me to give a bit of a sneak peek about something that will happen in the future thanks to her "Promise Me Miguel" AU based on a dream she had (I wish I could dream of Miguel and our Peter 😭)!! I also want to mention, once again, that there's so much fanart that has been created for this fic by incredible and talented artists!! Please go and check it out, and show some love to the artists!! ❤️ You can find all fanart here - under the "Nonviolent Communication" header! Thank you guys for reading and supporting this story!! It means so, SO MUCH to me!! I truly appreciate all the support - from the reblogs to the comments and likes; to the asks about songs some of you have connected to the story to little scenarios and your thoughts on the story!! I'm always surprised to see that you guys think of the story in your daily life - like, you guys actually think about it? It always makes my day!!! 😭
I'm truly so grateful for all the amazing support this story has received so far, and I hope you all enjoy the rest of it!! 🥺 Thank you guys!!! I hope the beginning of February treats you well!! ❤️ -Alondra
Taglist: @loverlorn @saturnknows @d1lf-loverrr @eddiestitmiguelsbigdick @freehentai @arithestrawberry @scaleniusrm @haradasaya @spidermanismyfav @bitchykittenconnoisseur @thecraziestcrayon @obi-mom-kenobi @natsury-kazuki @coraline750 @edgycatx @safixiovi @sunnyx07 @nxrdamp @rorel1a @oceanstar19 @happishark @carmilla01 @somebodyelsethanyouthink @adora-but-ginger @angie2274 @vampi-amora @tired-writer04 @plzfeedmebread @shadow-pancake9 @tynakub @faretheeoscar @giulscomix @luvstuffies @coffeeauthorvibing @lauraolar14 @bl0osclues @pinkiemme @lil-cinn @mashiromochi @loveletterfrommwah @muzansucker @theleftkittycollection @kikookii @www-interludeshadow-com @holographicang3l @aisyakirmann @bucky-to-my-barnes @geraskier-thots @l3laze @yujyujj @taylorsmakingfuckingmacandcheese @damhanallagorm @heyohalie @kaliuea @moonsua1 @darksidescorner@geminis93 @1800-get-alife @hrrtkreuz @oharasfilipinawife @dropyoursocksandgrabyourcrocss
#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel ohara x reader#miguel ohara#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o'hara imagine#atsv miguel#miguel o hara#miguel o'hara fanfiction#miguel o'hara x y/n#miguel o'hara scenarios#spiderman 2099#atsv x reader#atsv x you#miguel spiderman#across the spiderver fanfiction#across the spiderverse#miguel o'hara x you#miguel ohara x you#miguel ohara x y/n#spider man: across the spider verse#across the spider verse#miguel spiderverse#nonviolent communication#soft!Miguel O'Hara
315 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐀; 𝖽𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋 𝗆𝗒 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 ? ── 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈, 𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 ? ── 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝖺 𝗌𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖺𝗅 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗈𝗇. [...] 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘳 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘰 ■■■■ 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦. 𝗐𝗁𝗒 𝖽𝗂𝖽 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝖽𝗈 𝗂𝗍 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 ?
CINEMA is the first mini album by KIKI from SEVENTEEN, released on November 18th, 2024. the EP includes six song, including the title track “TO. X” and the japanese single “BAD MODE”. in this album, she focuses 90s / 00s R&B and pop genre throughout the tracks, be able to create the nostalgic and cozy mood, emphasizes her beginning of new career path.
DRAMA ── composed by kiki, woozi, vernon / lyric by kiki, bumzu
HELL IN HEAVEN ── composed by kiki, bumzu / lyric by kiki
TO. X ── title track* / composed by kiki, bumzu / lyric by kiki
TEST DRIVE ── composed by kiki, woozi, dino / lyric by kiki, woozi
BAD MODE ── japanese track / composed by kiki, wooozi, bumzu / lyric by kiki
BYE BYE BLUE ── composed by kiki, wooozi, bumzu / lyric by kiki, wonwoo, woozi
✶ spoiler alert ... all of the songs excluding bad mode are korean songs, the originals are just inspo .
music video concepts
CW ... mentions of blood, dead body, homicide
kiki builds the concept of the music video based on several thriller movie, such as cure ( 1997 ), the handmaiden ( 2016 ), thelma and louise ( 1991 ) and silence of the lambs ( 1991 ).
( ONE ) the mv starts with the shot of crime scene. while there are many investigators out there, kiki, detective, arrives on the scene as only female detective. lots of flashes, bloods, and a dead body — she’s stressed, but trying to not register on facade. because the slightest hint of humaneness will be deadly. not from the criminals, but people around her. shortly after, they catch the suspect, bring it to the station. as take the suspect to the interrogation room, she is looked from all of other staffs who she passes by. everyone, is watching her — watching them. even when she gets on the elevator alone, the people around her are all men, clear reference from silence of the lambs.
( TWO ) takes deep breath, she enters the interrogation room with the start of second verse. surprisingly, the suspect, wears oversized clothes that cover the figure with messy hair, looks exactly like kiki. the camera centers on two kiki who sitting across the table from each other. one is a detective, the other is a suspect. the second kiki avoids the answer, replies abstract words, makes other detectives mad and upset. however, she — the first kiki, remains calm and silent. times passes by, the other male investigators start to fade away, leave only two kiki in the room. when she realizes, the environment becomes different. the two are in the dark abandoned house. the more they talk, the more memories flashes black on her mind. the image of the flame from lighter, water spills onto the floor, cutting the wall in the letter of X — the tear falls from her eye. then suddenly, she is snapped back into the reality.
( THREE ) with the bridge flows as a calm before the storm, kiki the detective remembers more. the gaze from surroundings. the pressure, the tension she feels. everything, as her. with a dramatic final chorus, she takes another kiki’s hand, run away from the burning station. they run, holding hands together and run. the two get on the vintage open car, run far far away to the free. to the place no one stares at them, or looks down on them like the people used to.
𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐑; 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗎𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗆𝖾... 𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒’𝗋𝖾 𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾. 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗆𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗆𝗉𝗍𝗒. 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾’𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀.
( 📁 ) : NAVI : MASTER LIST
( tag list ) : @smh-anon @jennwonwoo @angie-x3 @scarlet789
#༝ ( 🎵 ) ⸺ kiki › . solo works#༝ ( 🎧 ) ⸺ kiki › . cinema#seventeen 14th member#seventeen addition#seventeen added member#seventeen female addition#seventeen oc#seventeen imagines#seventeen reaction#seventeen scenarios#kpop addition#kpop added member#kpop female addition#kpop oc#kpop imagines#idol!reader#idol!au#idol!oc#fictional idol community#fictional idol addition#fictional kpop community#fictional idol oc#fictional kpop oc
28 notes
·
View notes
Text
Hellowi pretty people I come over to ramble about random Nimona projects and stuff bc I'm excited about them but nothing's finished
I'm writing a short thing for fun with the idea of Ambrosius getting hearing loss because of the explosion that made Nimona and the laser and I'm listening to songs to see if I get inspo for the title (so far the doc is called 'Ambrosius gets hearing damage' but that's not cool JSKSHD), and listening to Mistki I was like omg a fic called Why Not Me. But then I was like omg a fic regarding Nimona and her monster form with the title 'I'll be looking in their eyes when they're down' but then I was like no omg what about a fic about comic goldenheart with the title 'I always want you when I'm finally fine'
I have no idea what qualifies as a good lyrics title but I think they work
And I literally have no ideas besides a phrase and the vibes for it, and still got no title for the temporarily deaf Ambrosius thing but it's so fun to do this sjdkdj (also, I really like the headcanon of him getting permanent but parcial (?) hearing loss on the ear that was closest to the explosion, it makes sense) (also I've experienced some partial hearing loss (?) at some point earlier this year and it's just so not fun to go through that bc people get very mad at you when you need them to repeat themselves more than twice and ask them to be louder pipipi anyways everything keeps happening around him and Ambrosius doesn't catch half of it and he feels a bit too helpless and scared of not hearing again but it works out in the end (more or less))
I see why everyone always picks lyrics as title names they're so coolest also mistki's songs are so good 😔🙏 they make me sad and happy at the same time sjddj
Another thing that has a long way to go and I'm trying to find a title for is an au of the gay dads au with mpreg where Ballister is from the beginning Nimona's dad and Ambrosius is that ex that by chance slowly makes his way back to his life and accidentally becomes Nimona's stepdad (like in Look Who's Talking? I think sjdkdj) also Meredith's there and she's cool and doing her own thing, I'm glad I read the comic bc I changed her relationship with Ballister in the fic and I think it works better with his decisions and motivations and all that stuff
(in my head it's very epic but to you it may seem like anything JSKDH)
Ballister is not really having a good time (lonely, unsure about his decision, scared and stuff, especially when he has to have her) but he has his good moments, promise. Also he hugs Meredith and she pats his back awkwardly like in the comic, at some point
Also as soon as Ballister finds out that Nimona's a girl he gets many very pink clothes pipipi Ambrosius gets him pink stuff for her too bc he sees any cute baby clothes or accessories and he's like hey I bet Ballister would like this for his baby :) and buys it
Nimona doesn't like him much when she's born, and he's like aw c'mon :( I bought you so many gifts pipipi I helped fold your tiny little clothes that one time !! (Ballister points out that he had done a very shitty job at it and Ambrosius shushes him, covering Nimona's ears)
ALSO
I'm drawing stuff for a TikTok post about mpreg but for comic goldenheart and trying to make the comic plot fit into it and it's so silly bc they have nothing to do with one another.
Ambrosius and Ballister don't beat the shit out of each other at the bar but Ballister goes away all angrily while Ambrosius walks behind him going Ballister I'm not done talking to you !!! >:(
And Ballister's like I am !! >:( and then there's another drawing of him leaning against a wall with one hand going damnit because he overworked himself, and Ambrosius going all *touching his hands together nervously* do you need to sit down :(? And Ballister going ...no. fuck off.
Also Nimona telling him to just abort that thing when he first told her (and he hadn't known yet what to do about it), and then when Cyrus' born he's staring angrily at her (he's not, he's just newly born and scrunched) and Nimona's like, holy shit boss, he remembers 😟 and Ballister's like, ?? How's he gonna remember, he doesn't even know you.
Also Ballister getting sad about the discussion at the bar and Nimona cheering him up with the science fair, but him going this won't trick anybody, look at me😔 *gestures to his pregnant self* and Nimona's like, nah boss you just look like you got a beer gut, it'll work. How they manage to run away from the guards/knights and all that when Nimona's stuck in cat form, that's not my business 🧐
Also Cyrus is born sometime before the whole Ballister freaking out about Nimona's powers, so he's somewhere in the kingdom being babysat by a nice older lady or something when Nimona's part is destroying everything. Or maybe he's just peacefully sleeping very far away in the lair and Ballister goes around the whole thing with a baby monitor, whichever option works. (Neither does 😭)
So yeah yippie I wanna post this stuff but nothing's finished pipipi 😔
#nimona#my fics#i guess sudkdjd#i realized i could link my nimona fics here but#thatd be embarrassikg because time has already gone by since ive posted them#maybe the new ones i will#maybe not tho depends on how ashamed i am of it sjdkdj
28 notes
·
View notes
Text
lying on my floor listening to ‘you can’t catch me now’ from ballad of songbirds and snakes on repeat trying to muster up the energy to write the jason & bruce inspired grief and narrative haunting central fic i plan on writing eventually
i mean look at the lyrics yall it’s perfect canon au atmospheric inspo for a dual switching pov
like bruce standing atop one of gotham’s crumbling buildings, perched on a gargoyle, snow and sleet hammering unforgivingly on his kevlar as he stares unblinkingly at Arkham’s foreboding walls- at the bars that cover the joker’s cell- contemplating.
‘There's snow fallin' over the city
You thought that it would wash away
The bitter taste of my fury
And all of the messes you made
Yeah, you think that you got away’
but then a series of flashes of different moments of jason make their way through his brain and he cannot bring himself to muddy jason’s his robin’s memory, he won’t allow his son’s existence to be drenched in any more blood, not the boy that was so full of sunshine and laughter and fierce protectiveness
‘… But I'm in the trees, I'm in the breeze
My footsteps on the ground
You'll see my face in every place
But you can't catch me now
Through wading grass, the months will pass
You'll feel it all around
I'm here, I'm there, I'm everywhere
But you can't catch me now
No, you can't catch me now’
and then the pov switches- and it’s jason, on his bike hurtling towards the flashing and wind battered city looming in the distance before him, chest warmed by the fire within him. It being endlessly fueled by the constant thrum of rage and betrayal and heartbreak and the aching need for the monster Joker to be far far in the depths of the earth forever where he will never hurt another robin, another child again
‘You can't, you can't catch me now
I'm comin' like a storm into your town
You can't, you can't catch me now
I'm higher than the hopes that you brought down
You can't, you can't catch me now’
there’s like, plot inbetween this point but there’s a pov switch again and it’s bruce and jason standing on opposite sides of a building, wind whipping around them accentuating the silence laid between them, rife with unspoken words and festering emotions, a clown’s corpse lying a few feet away from them- its blood spraying the wall behind it as well as the revolver held in the shaky hand of a 19 year old stood in front of the father who didn’t save him in the end- the same father that doesn’t recognise the ghost of the son that he remembers softly laying deep into the earth all those months ago..
‘… There's blood on the side of the mountain
It's turning a new shade of red
Yeah, sometimes the fire you founded
Don't burn the way you'd expect
Yeah, you thought that this was the end’
#anyways their dynamic has been explored by like a billion others but i wanted to put my 2 cents in#there’s like undercurrents of personification of gotham as both a sentient space and a metaphorical mountain of the emotional battle#between jason & bruce and how both their philosophies trigger each others traumas but in fundamentally different ways#and as such they’re both blind to how their respective coping methods in turn sabotage the other & if they were just emotionally vulnerable#with each other then it would be so easily resolved#but the last time either of them were emotionally vulnerable jason thought bruce betrayed him by not saving him#and bruce opened his heart to another after his parents and then dick leaving and then jason was murdered brutally#and taken from him too#just#the parallels lads#jason todd#bruce wayne#batman#robin#red hood#dc#batfam#wayne family adventures
26 notes
·
View notes
Text
party monster | shuri udaku.
ƸӜƷ
starboy set : chapter two
pairing — panther!shuri x partygirl!y/n
trope — bestfriends 2 lovers
inspo — party monster by the weeknd
warnings — they platonically kiss yall, fingering (reader receiving), cunnilingus (reader receiving), possessive!shuri, cocky!shuri, confident!reader, sub!reader, dom!shuri, handsy!shuri, dirty talk, humiliation kink, mean!shuri, they fuck (its my first time writing that shit pls be niceeee 2 meee), loveee theyre in love, lets pretend wakandas a perfect world n drugging doesnt happen there so it doesnt matter if her drink is left unattended lol, shuri lowks has a claiming kink, crying reader, overstimulation, shuri gets off on the reader being a needy girl, theres a lil surprise in the end hehe, yeah.
a/n — erm erm hope them finally doing the deed suffices, i kept stopping to take breaks omfg like wheres the class ?? anyway hope u like it !!! <3
⟢˚ @mbakuetshurisprincess @inmyheadimobsessed @letitias-fav @barkbarkbo @shurismainbxtch @verachii @rxcently @shuriszn @lppriceisright @heartsforjojo @motheroffae @naomis-daydream @vampzxi @nrc16783 @msplayas @marsolgy @mysticalmarss @playhousedistee @abenomeiiii @ma4erickk @ogbells16 @6-noir @laurensmabel1 @vexoshuri @saintwrld
dedicated to @zayswriting bc she's lowks the reason this set exists <3
ஜ
and i've seen her get richer in the pole. i've seen her, i knew she had to know, i've seen her take down that tequila.
you’re passionately singing along to the bass-heavy track, the drink in your hand dangerously close to spilling over, as you hold eye contact with riri, the girl relaying the lyrics to you as you dance with each other. the people around you are joining in, the crowd vibing along with the both of you as you turn to whine on the vivacious girl. she raises her own drink in her hype, spurring you on, and you laugh loudly as your body moves, your voice lost within the song.
the lights flash blindingly, and it makes you dizzy in the most self-gratifying sense, the world feels like it's spinning quicker on its axis and it makes your blood rush; you lived for the thrill. it makes you smile hazily as you shift your gaze to look back at the pretty girl against you, feeling her match the rhythm of your hips with her arms in the air, tight abs on display, as she sings to the crowd, the people shouting back at her; cameras pointed at the both of you from every angle.
you lift yourself upright, turning to face one of your best friends, as the beat slows toward the end of the song and you’re downing the remainder of the sweet cocktail in your grip, when firm hands slide down your waist and your hips to gently adjust the risen hem of the gorgeous pink dress that is sitting pretty on your figure.
bouncy curls kiss the skin of your bare collarbone, the warmth of her figure encasing you when she presses against your back. then she’s sliding her arms to wrap around your shifting waist, slowing you down to match her rhythm, and tightly pressing the palms of her hands against the skin of your stomach. your smile widens, riri flashing you a discrete smirk before her attention is back on the crowd circled around you, the next track being one of her favourites.
the sensual movements between the girl behind you and yourself catch some wandering eyes, the pressure and heat of her were too dizzying for you to direct your attention elsewhere, hence the stray and arguably, heated stares go undetected by you. it makes shuri smirk into your neck, although she never lifts from her intimate position against you, her predator senses were aware of all the eyes on you, taking you in; and she knew they were wishing for a chance miracle with you, one that would never come to pass.
her hands press you tighter against her in a test of control before releasing you to spin your figure around to face her, her gaze dark as she takes you in, before she's leaning back into you to speak over the ear-splitting music. her voice is cocky when it’s entering your ears and settling in your hazy mind, “i know chocolate is your favourite, but i’m hoping you like the presentation too, picky girl.”
when she pulls back to look at you, your face is laced with confusion, your eyebrows scrunching further when she simply laughs before shifting her gaze above your head, and the music is softening as the club starts to countdown. your jaw drops when you turn to follow shuri’s gaze, monet walks through the path the splitting crowd makes, a huge smile on her face as she holds the prettiest cake in her hands.
when she reaches you and places the treat in your hands, the crowd is already loudly singing to you, the smile on your face is blinding and shuri sticks herself behind you, bringing her face to your neck as she murmurs the song in your ear, her warm breath fanning goosebumps across your skin making you giggle. when the song ends, she squeezes your hips, and sweetly whispers to you.
“make a wish, baby.”
the bashful smile on your face is twitching with the way you’re trying to keep it down, your eyes fluttering closed as you silently count your wishes, before excitedly lifting the cake slightly to blow out the sparkling candles and the crowd erupts into cheers that are soon drowned out with the steady rise of the beat of your favourite track.
shuri reaches to take the cake in her hand and grabs a hold of your own as she leads you to the calm of the vip section. riri, and monet follow behind you with drunken smiles, they’re such lightweights, and the thought makes you laugh as you step into the secluded glass room. the friends of your friend group are gathering to greet you one after the other, so it’s a while before shuri can have you to herself, firmly pulling you to sit in her lap in a secluded booth.
the sigh that leaves your lips is happy as you wrap your arms around her neck, her hands settling on your thighs that are comfortably straddling her, and you’re singing along to the mellow afrobeat now playing, your glossy lips sensually wrapping around the low words you sing to her, fighting off a smirk when shuri can't seem to look away from them.
“and i know i’m in trouble, she manipulate my love o, hmm. i no holy,” and the slight movement of your hips is pure instinct, the music tempting you with its beat. when you go to rise off of shuri, to live your youth dancing in the centre of the room with the blinding lights flashing your night away, she doesn't let you get far. her lids are lowered to follow the enticing circle of your hips on her lap, the grip she has on your thighs tightening as she guides you back down onto her.
the sound of protest you let out is met with her amused stare, her fingers stroking your skin as the smirk grows on her face at your impatient squirming. she lifts one of her hands to reach for her glass of gold liquid, taking a sip, and she chuckles when you grab her wrist to guide it towards yourself, your gloss staining the rim as you take a heavy gulp.
“you were just gonna leave without giving me a kiss, pretty girl?” her voice is light and cocky, the glass sounding a soft 'clink' when it’s placed on the table, and her eyes are twinkling in mischief when she squeezes the softness of your thighs in question.
and you make a sound of disbelief, not because she wants a kiss because that was a normal way for the both of you to show each other affection, but because she wanted one on a night where you wanted to get laid under someone else – to bury your feelings for her, the obnoxious voice inside your head sounds before you can offer a rebuttal.
“shuri, stop.” a large smile unconsciously breaking through your irritated façade, “how am i supposed to pull with your lips on me?”
shuri lets out a full-blown laugh at this, her nose scrunching as she drops her forehead to rest on your chest, and, unbeknownst to you, she can hear the beat of your heart start to race at the sound; it makes her own flutter. the sight makes you giggle giddily, your nails lightly scratching the back of her neck, pausing, before pulling gently on the soft curls at the nape of her neck, pulling her head back so you can drop a soft peck on her lips.
when you pull back, your face is warm, still not used to the act, and especially not used to the way her eyes darken as her tongue swipes over her lips, looking like she’s searching for the slightest taste of you; before she can do anything else, you’re swinging off her. you hear her shift to sit up as your legs wobble slightly at your quickness to stand, a noise of alarm deep in her throat that makes you twist on your heels. when you face her, her gaze is on your heels trailing up your legs, and sliding up your body when you start to walk backwards in light, and bouncy movements.
her eyes roll when they see that you’ve swiped her drink, the gaze shifting to meet your smirking mouth as you lift the glass to your lips, teasingly mouthing the lyrics to her before you take a languid sip, dropping her a sultry wink before swiftly turning to join the dancing crowd outside the enclosed space, your hips swinging naturally as shuri shakes her head, letting out an exasperated sigh, you were such a tease.
“maybe another life you’ll be my wife and we’ll get it right e don cast, last last.”
⤠
shuri’s arm is draped under your ass as she carries you into her apartment, trying to maintain your modesty, and your legs tighten around her when she shifts to remove her shoes, shifting you effortlessly between her arms. your head lazily lies on her shoulder, your lips brushing her neck as you ramble happily to her, thanking her for the surprise, and the gentle shift of your body as her legs carry the both of you to her bedroom soothes you.
she gently lowers you onto her sheets, her lithe figure following to lie atop you and shuri smiles as she lets herself enjoy the feel of you against her, way more than she should. when she goes to pull away to get you clothes to sleep in, your arms and legs tighten around her as you let out a deep sound of indignation, and shuri finds herself fondly rolling her eyes, just as your voice floats through the space, “stop, don’t go, you’re so warm.”
she glides her hands down your waist to tug at the hem of your dress, your lips part silently around a breathy gasp, and her hands don’t even stop there, but instead continue to curl around your thighs, squeezing your flesh before she speaks, her voice full of amusement and bordering on condescending.
“dressing like a slut and wondering why you’re always so fucking cold, come on, baby.”
the words make you whine, your breath catching in your throat as your nails dig into her shoulders, before you're closing your eyes to avoid her intense gaze. your thighs subconsciously squeezing around her hips as you turn your head to look at the mirror that covers the entirety of her wall, built to reflect the magnificent view of wakanda from the opposite side.
your sharply gasp as you catch sight of your intertwined bodies, shuri’s head of curls is buried in your neck, her breath fanning over the sensitive skin of your neck as her veiny, strong hands ran up and down the length of your exposed legs, and you looked dazed. your pretty baby pink nails soft against the strength that was her neck and shoulders, the pale pink of your heels so dainty against the harsh black of her set, dark pretty brown limbs tangling against each other, and your eyes are fluttering as your thighs visibly clenched at the overwhelming sight.
when one of shuri’s arms lifts to place itself beside your head, lifting herself to hover over your face, your eyes drift back to hers in anticipation, and your mouth is parting when you notice the wicked hunger in her eyes and hear the lust coating her words, the request dripping through your ears like honey, fanning the heat under your skin, “can we kiss, s’thandwa?”
the words are heavier than they should be, loaded with an emotion that blurs the line between platonic and romantic affection but you find yourself nodding anyways, always wanting to please the powerful girl above you, wanting to make her happy. she smirks down at you, her head dipping, pecking the full pout of your lips as her fingers harshly dig into the sheets to control herself when you whine slightly as she pulls away.
“whiny girl.” her words are murmured a hair’s breadth away from your pouting lips, her warm breath fanning across your lips calling forward your need, your aching need for something more from her, anything more. your hands flex in their position on the back of her neck and she takes that as an invitation, a plea, and once again her warm lips gently peck your own, your heavy breath brushing against her when she departs from you, just to repeat her actions over and over again, lingering a second longer against you each time.
you can’t think beyond her; her body, her smell, the softness of her lips as she places them against yours and your heart is aggressively pounding behind your ribs because you two have never done this, crossed the imaginary line you drew between yourselves. and now you can’t seem to get enough, pressing your body up to try and feel her against you, the needy whimper you let out causing shuri to groan.
shuri slides her free hand over your waist until she’s firmly grasping your rib, her thumb sliding over the heated exposed skin and she brushes her lips against yours when she goes to speak, dropping slow, desperate pecks against your lips between her words, “wanna taste you, will open up for me, baby?”
her voice is gravelly and it tightens the knot in your stomach, her words making slick heat pool between your legs as your hips buck against her. your head is falling back causing her lips to brush against your neck, her mouth parting to welcome the skin into the warm cavern, and your pussy pulses at the action, a wet whimper slipping out of your mouth.
“just- just this one time, okay?” your voice is breathy, and bordering on a plea.
the girl above you laughs against the skin of your neck, amused by the lack of weight in your words, and the dark condescending sound makes you lightly scratch your nails down her skin, gasping when she quickly sinks her teeth into you before muttering against the pulse of your heart, “anything you want, s’thandwa.”
then her hand reaches to wrap around your throat, the grip firm as she lifts you back to look at her face above yours, her eyes gazing darkly between yours before she’s dropping the gaze to your mouth, licking her lips and leaning towards you, her breath warm as she breathes your air.
then she’s kissing you, and properly, her warm lips gliding against yours fuelling the fire in your wanting body, the pulsing in your veins synching with the heartbeat between your legs, and you wish she knew how much she made you soak through your underwear. when she tightens her fingers around your throat and licks at the seam of your lips, your mouth is dropping open to whimper, feeling the curl of her smirk as she takes the opportunity you've given her, then she tastes you, her own taste invading your senses.
shuri’s breathes a deep groan in your mouth, her mouth desperate against your own, wanting to breathe you and your pretty lips in. her hand is calculated as it glides across your body, the warmth of her palm seeping through the skin of your thigh, her fingers curling to wrap around the muscle and spread your clenched legs open for her, “closing me out? haven’t even given you my mouth, my love?”
the words are tauntingly whispered into your mouth before she pulls away to let you rapidly gasp to fill your lungs with oxygen, your eyes following the way her figure leans away from you to use both of her hands to firmly spread your legs. her tongue is peaking out at the sight she’s greeted with, and she lets a small groan slip past her swollen lips before she’s on her stomach, her breath fanning over your damp panties.
the heat that strikes up your figure at the sight makes your eyes shut in humiliation, her unadulterated gaze on the cavern between your legs makes you spin, and punches the breath out of you. the warmth leaving her mouth caresses you so good but so teasingly that it coaxes your hips to subconsciously buck up towards her, making her chuckle as she simply watches you seek her out, seek out her touch.
“please, please, shuri.”
the sound is what propels her forward, a grunt leaving her as she lands a heavy open-mouthed kiss on your inner thigh before she's doing the same to your pulsating clit, the satin of your panties feeling cold against your heat and the contrast makes you throw your head back. shuri doesn’t pull away before she’s slowly sliding her tongue over your folds, her eyes trailing the curve of your body, your panties stick even more against your sensitive pussy and you're panting. there's a loud whine spilling out of you, and your lips are parting to release your heavy noises as shuri hums against you, her mouth working you like she was starved.
you can’t help but cant your hips against her mouth, your hand coming to wrap into the curls of her head as she lets you work yourself against her face. you chance a glance at her and your pussy clenches violently at the sight, the blood in your veins pumping loudly in your ears when you meet her dark eyes, she heatedly watched you as she held your trembling legs apart. the domineering look in her eyes let you know that even if you were taking your pleasure, it was only because she allowed you to, allowed you to use her to get off, and the thought makes you throw your head back again, your chest heaving as you babble incoherently.
“i’m so close, so, so close, please, please, let me come.”
your breath is catching, and your hips are stuttering messily, the chase to your release overwhelming you, and pulling you further into the pleasure that clouds your mind. shuri swiftly pulls your ruined panties to the side, her long fingers sliding into your clenching pussy to stroke your soft upper walls before she wraps her lips around your bud, sucking gently and murmuring against you, “let me taste it, pretty girl.”
you’re shouting out as you explode, your legs shaking as they forcefully shut around her, the movement of your hips stuck between wanting more and running away from her due to the intense pleasure. your eyes are shut when you ride your high, the pretty girl between your legs pressing gentle but firm kisses against your quivering cunt humming when she lifts back to your face.
“my pretty, pretty girl.”
shuri’s voice is cooing, slipping into the depths of your mind to lull you further into comfort, she’s kissing you and you taste yourself on her, the mix was so dirty that it made you squirm. the panther’s hands slide up your still trembling thighs, cupping behind your knees to lift your legs up to spread them open, so erotically, that you couldn’t hide anything.
she kneels between your legs and your eyes fall to her hand, slickly sliding lube up the intimidating strap between her legs, your mind whirls thinking of when she even managed to retrieve it, your legs go to clench as you whine, she was going to fuck you.
the thought makes your mind blurry, and you feel your chest caving in on itself as you fist her sheets, and you faintly hear her chuckle before she’s humming and leaning back over your quivering frame, her hand re-situating itself on your leg, prying the clenched muscles apart. when she presses her hips towards you, you’re feeling her, the teasing press of her strap makes you whimper in sensitivity, and the girl above you releases a heavy sigh before dropping her head into your neck. she’s skimming her lips over your skin as she squeezes your thigh, lifting the trembling limb to curl around her hips and your hips buck up against her, a desperate moan leaving your lips when her tip barely just slips into your soaking entrance.
“bast, baby, you don’t understand how long i’ve wanted to fuck you just like this.”
her voice is deep and trails off into an almost whiny moan, the sound makes you bring your hands to her shoulders trailing across the dip of her neck and down her chest to ground yourself, she sounded so desperate it coaxed your cunt to cry some more for her. then your fingers are curling into the soft material of her shirt before the buttons are popping into the room, clinking against the vibranium walls in your haste.
the breathy gasp that flows out of shuri brings a temporary satisfactory smirk to your lips that is swiftly wiped away with the sharp stutter of her hips, and then she’s inside you, your pussy wrapping around her in an invitation as she groans out your name, her blunt nails digging into your skin when you almost painfully cry out, the tenderness of your walls laving out copius amounts of slick like she wanted to be good for shuri, for her lover.
shuri snaps her hips against you as she grunts, carving her place in your walls, making the panther's mark in her pussy, and she's cooing at your writhing form, the stars dancing behind your eyes blind you until there's nothing but her. you can't hold back your noise, and shuri's purring, the filth pouring out your throat settling in the nest of her core and she moans as her cunt clenches in an invite.
your nails scratch over her back when she pulls away from your neck to harshly press her lips against your parted ones. you’re moaning into her mouth, trying to reciprocate her dirty kisses but you can’t think, can’t think with anything other than the desperate ache between your legs, her hips are unrelenting against yours, her strap dragging against the tightening muscles of your weeping cunt.
“kiss me like you mean it, baby.”
her words are taunting accompanied by a hard and deep snap of her sinful hips, her blunt nails scraping down your raised leg to grab the flesh of your ass, her fingers digging into the softness as she hums into your parted lips, a smirk twitching across her red, enticing lips and she swipes her tongue across your swollen bottom lip, commiting your taste to memory.
the words jumble in your head, unable to formulate a response with her hands all over your trembling body, you clench your eyes shut, and your hips stutter, shuri knows you’re about to come and it makes her increase her pace wanting to see such a desirable woman, her desirable woman fall apart on her cock.
when you moan incoherently into her mouth, your thighs clenching tight around her, she shushes you, assuring you that its okay, that she knows how much her poor baby is aching, cooing about how nothing could make her stop, nothing could make her miss the absolute filth her pretty girl became when she was coming like a fucking slut. her head dipping down to press the words into the bruising skin of your neck, your head falling back in a high-pitched, dirty cry, that has shuri sinking her teeth into you as you still under her, then you’re releasing like you never have before.
“i know, baby, i know, just let it out for me, s’thandwa, it’s okay.”
shuri groans as your nails dig harshly into her shoulders, your chest heaving as you moan like you’re crying and it makes shuri dizzy, getting such a free-spirited, confident, and pretty girl like you crying underneath her, she had to have you. she strokes your skin, leaving gentle kisses along your heated skin, “you’re such a good girl for me, hm?”
your pussy is still spasming, your hips occasionally stuttering against her strap, that’s still in you, and you can’t hear beyond shuri and the blood rushing through your veins, so when you feel her shift her hips, her fingers tightening around your leg when you whine and move to pull away, the words thoughtlessly spill out from you.
“c-cant, i can’t.”
“yes, you can, you can, baby.”
her eyes are on yours, her lips cooing the words to you as she coaxes your head to nod along with hers, her hips gently sliding through you as you whimper shamelessly. when she starts to pick up her pace your whimpers turn into heavy and loud moans, that she mirrors, your gazes never leaving one another as your sounds synch. your hips are running away from the intensity, shuri gripping them to pull you back onto her, muttering about how much you mean to her, to the quelling ache that purrs from within her.
“fuck, you take it so well, my love.” her hand tightens around you, bruisingly pulling you back over her strap when you get too far, “you’re mine, baby, is that clear?”
her voice is dark, tainted with regal truth as she increases her pace, her breathing losing a little bit of its control as her cunt pulses at the way she’s owning you, claiming the love of her life. your eyes shut as tears stream down your cheeks, and all you can do is take it, welcome her into you over and over, the overstimulation planting clouds in your head, her lips laying gentle pecks across your wet cheeks as she murmurs like she wants the words to brand you.
“you can have your fun, s’thandwa, but make sure this pretty little head understands where your eternal devotion lies because i’m not letting you go, baby.”
a sob rings out from your mouth, your walls clenching around her so hard, it makes her lose her tempo, a sharp groan pushing through her throat, and her gasps are breathy and soft as she sinks her teeth into your lip, the flesh bruising and swollen from all the attention.
“please shuri, tell me to come please, need you to tell me.”
the words are pathetic and shuri knows it too, her pussy knows it better seeing how her hips stutter as she clenches, her own release so close, and so she slows her thrusts to draw it out wanting you to feel her phantom touch when those lil’ boys you entertain come to you, she wanted to carve a home within your warm walls, the same way you did to her aching buried heart.
“look at me when you come for me, baby. show me just how much you love me.”
the muscles of your body shake violently, the sobs escaping your parted mouth are wet and loud, propelling shuri’s own orgasm forward, her pussy clenching at the harmony of absolute filth that spills from your throat. her hands slide under your arched back, lifting your chest up to press her pretty tits against yours, the cool bars grounding you as they press into your heated skin, her hips riding through both of your highs.
your arms wrap around her neck to pull her down against you, a giggle leaving her lips as the strap shifts inside you provoking a groan from you, she places her head into your neck as you hum in exhaustion, your mind still hazy as you roll your lips. your hands are in her head of curls, the air so warm and inviting that the words you say are pure instinct, your lashes fluttering, comfortable as can be when you yawn out the silly words.
“guess that means i don’t have to wait for another life for you to be my wife.”
say you're mine, i'm yours for the night i'm the realest, she said i'm the realest head be genius, dick game be the meanest.
ஜ
#pinkwrighting ⊹ ۪ ᖭི༏ᖫྀ.#shuri udaku#shuri x black!reader#shuri x reader#shuri black panther#shuri smut#shuri x y/n#shuri fluff#shuri angst#letitia wright shuri#letitia wright#black panther#black panther wakanda forever#black panther: wakanda forever#shuri imagine
489 notes
·
View notes
Text
🖤¡And I never saw you coming , and I’ll never be the same!🖤
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Teammate Cherrie!
Word count: 4.7k
Summary : lyric request : hey! love your writing by the way <3 could i request "and i never saw you coming and i'll never be the same" with charles leclerc? maybe cherrie's had a few bad breakups and she doesn't really trust men anymore, but charles comes along and just changes everything and it's superrr fluffy? thank you so much! x
A/N : hiii!! @cieloclercs Thank u for giving me the inspo for this fic!! Sorry it took so long but I had fun writing it. I hope you u like it!! You guys can send in more Taylor swift lyric prompts for f1 drivers or nhl players and I’ll see what I can do! Lemme know what u guys think xoxo
'I'm walking fast through the traffic lights
Busy streets and busy lives
And all we know is touch and go
We are alone with our changing minds
We fall in love 'til it hurts or bleeds, or fades in time'
Cherrie tried to push the stinging in the back of her eyes as she ignored the consistent buzzing of her phone in the back pocket of her jeans , sniffling quietly as she quickly crossed through the traffic lights .
Barely seeing a flash of green in the corner of her eyes as she rushed through the busy streets , everybody too overtaken by their own busy lives to pay her distressed self any mind.
And she supposed she took some solace in knowing that everybody was going through the same shit , at different points in their lives . Everybody got sick sometime. Everybody kissed somebody that they didn't see themselves spending the rest of their lives with. Everybody cried , everybody died. Everybody was suffering in some way, some had better coping mechanisms than others and some barely coped at all.
Some found art in pain and some found irony in their own , shaking her head with a bitter chuckle as she roughly pulled her still buzzing phone out from her pocket in a sudden burst of rage .
It had always been like this and at some point in her life she had started to wonder if she really was the problem. If she really were so unlovable than a man could look at her and see someone that they could lie to, someone that they would betray.
It wasn't fair. And it wasn't fair that it hurt each and every time. The sting of betrayal never got any lighter and even if she didn’t love them, it still hurt to know that they didn't love her either.
Maybe she deserved it. Maybe she just wasn't good enough.
To the rest of the world she was this shining star, destined for bright things. Destined to be the best, to stay at the top of her game . Racing fast until the slate ran clean , but no amount of trophy's and no amount of winnings could make this sickness brewing in her heart go away.
"What?" She snapped into the phone , not caring for the wary looks she received as she finally stomped her way into the paddock. Paying no mind to the cameras and no mind to those trying to catch her attention.
She was tired , so fucking tired of trying to be somebody that she just wasn't. She didn't want to smile and look pretty for anyone, she was sick of giving love and getting absolutely nothing but lies in return.
"Haven't you hurt me enough already ?" She almost cried into the speaker , wiping at her slowly drying eyes. She wasn't going to cry at work, she wasn't that type of girl.
She was the star after all. She was ferrari’s golden girl. She couldn't let them watch her bleed.
She had come out of crashing her car with much less scars than this relationship had left. And she was done.
She was sick of men. But she wanted love.
She didn't want to love a thousand of them, didn't want to go through the stages again . Through all the get to know you questions and the uncertainty , failing in love again till it hurts and then bleeds, then fades in time.
It just hurt. And she was tried of it.
"Now you want to give me a headache too?" She snapped at her now ex boyfriend in a rage, kicking the trash can in the corner of the room as she did so. Imagining it was his stupid face.
Why did all the pretty ones have to be such lying assholes in the end?
They had all been so beautiful until their true colours finally showed and it was so fucking ugly.
Like a picture she never asked to be painted , a puzzle that never would fit.
"I'm sorry baby- look- just come back home! We can talk about this-it doesn't have to end like this- I still love you-" the asshole tried to sound tearful but she knew that the only reason he was crying was because he got caught.
She let out a cold laugh, hand pressed to her forehead in frustration . Tears blurring her vision despite her otherwise blank face.
"It ended the moment you decided to kiss any lips but my own! You don't love me-" she laughed and she laughed. Sadly or bitterly , maybe both.
“If you really loved me, you wouldn't have been able to have been 'stolen from me' in the first place." She quoted what the headlines had wrote when they photographed her boyfriend with his tongue down some models throat.
But she didn't blame the woman. Oh no. Because he wasn't hers to begin with was he? Because if he was hers, he wouldn't have been tempted to do this. He wouldn't have even hesitated to say goodbye and turn the other cheek. He would have said no.
But instead he told her he loved her that night and then humiliated her for the world to see.
A awful pattern in most of her ex boyfriends , most of them pretty liars that liked to cry wolf as soon as she saw them for who they truly were.
"So goodbye. Don't call me. Lose my number asshole, we’re fucking done ." She instructed him with a hard sigh, done with this conversation now. Done with him.
She didn't see her teammate uneasily hesitate by the doorway , having heard every single world.
Having been worried about her since the headlines had made its way to his knowledge. But he didn't know what to do or say because they weren't exactly friends. They just worked together and she had been so fixated on lost love and championships, she barely paid him any mind at all . No matter what he did.
She tolerated him at most and no matter how hard Charles had tried to her closer to her, to show her that he was a good guy. She just was never interested .
Too busy with her bad guys to see him.
She almost jumped, startled , when she finally ended the phone call and turned around to see him standing there. Waiting for her to see him. To talk to her.
She inhaled deeply, pursing her lips together tightly as she realised that he had definitely heard it all.
Taking a moment to just look at him, seeing his soft , nervous smile on his pretty little face as he ran a hand through his hair. Eyes falling away from hers then down to his feet instead.
She sighed quietly , patience for men ran thin.
“You alright?" She muttered. Barely paying him any mind again as she tried to gather herself together , brushing down her clothes with the palm of her hands like she was brushing off the memories.
Charles slowly nodded his head, frowning a little. Worried.
"Yeah. are you?" He wondered in concern. She looked so sad. So tired. It hurt him to see.
He wondered how long this had been going on for, wondered why she kept doing this.
He had seen her jump from one guy to another , bad boyfriend after bad boyfriend. And he was starting to wonder if she got them off a bad friend, or if she was just catching these assholes like Pokemon balls at this point.
But Charles thought that she deserved so much more , to him she was daylight. She was golden.
He couldn't understand why she accepted fake love when she could have the real thing if she just opened her eyes and saw him standing there. He has always been there , waiting for her to see.
Instead she looked away, shrugging her shoulders in vague irritation . Not wanting to talk about it with her teammate that she barely knew beyond greetings and forced team bonding.
They weren't friends. She reminded herself to hit feel guilty for being so emotionally distant from him. She didn’t owe Charles anything.
Didn’t owe any man shit really. But still.
Maybe they were never meant to be friends.
She just didn’t know anymore . She sighed.
"I will be." She promised with a light laugh . To be polite . Before quickly Moving on. Because that was all she knew how to do.
‘And I never Saw you coming
And I'll never Be the same’
Cherrie looked down at the box of chocolate cupcakes in Charles hands, glancing back up to his little smile in confusion.
"What's this for?" She asked him curiously , lips twitching at the sight of all the different colour icing on top of them.
“It's not my birthday." She added as though he didn't already know. As though he didn't have her birthday marked in his Calendar as soon as he knew she existed .
Which was a long time ago, way before she even knew who he was.
Yeah. That’s how gone for her he was, and his friends could tease him all they liked for being ‘whipped’ and a longtime ‘simp’ for her, but he simply didn’t care. Because she deserved the world and Charles wanted to be the one to give it to her.
Charles just chucked a little, smile widening as he saw the way she breathed the smell in like the aroma was a candle . Gently taking one from the box , still sat on a random storage box in her garage as she watched her mechanics tinker with her car. Ever the vigilante.
He then took a seat beside her carefully , eyes never leaving The side of her pretty face, his cheeks flushing when she looked over at him and caught him staring . eyes not as dark or as sad as she took a bite from the cupcake , humming happily as she did so.
"I know." He acknowledged softly , fiddling with the box a little nervously . "I just-I overheard you telling your trainer this morning that you could really eat some cupcakes right now so.." he trailed off with a slight shrug. Swallowing.
But he was trying . So fucking hard to show her that he could be the one , that he could treat her right. That if she just have him a chance, he would never treat her like they did. He wasn’t them.
She just needed to trust in him.
Cherries eyes widened in surprise, having known that he was in the gym with them too , but not having realised that he paid any attention to her at all.
She was used to guys not listening to her mindless rambles and just leaving her to it, her talking usually just annoying them until they made some excuse to change the subject onto something they liked instead .
She exhaled softly , heart warming at his kind, selfless offer.
“Oh." She said smiling a little at him "then you heard him tell me not to eat them too. I'm meant to be on a strict diet." She giggled before taking a big bite.
Then she offered him a cupcake too.
Charles Beamed because it’s was progress.
Charles gently taking it from her fingers, playing with the wrapper as he murmured quietly .
“You can have them . You're perfect. And you-" he nervously giggled a little as he added quickly "you deserve them for winning the race."
Cherrie looked at him, confused. Face flushing a little from him calling her perfect so casually.
Like he meant it.
"I haven't won yet." She said.
Charles just smirked, nudging his shoulder gently against hers as he answered her easily "but you will." Because he believed in her. She could win anything she wanted. She was the best.
And Cherrie could only look down at the cupcakes, heart feeling strange as she realised that this might be something that she never saw coming .
Because it felt different, it hit different now.
Had his smile always been so soft towards her? Had he always been this nice?
'You come around and the armor falls
Pierce the room like a cannonball
Now all we know is don't let go'
Cherrie could only let out a little groan when Charles found her in the corner of the ballroom, sulking in a beautiful silk gown as she clutched onto the empty champagne glass in his hand.
Feeling like a lonely loser in the darkened corner of the room. Watching the rich couples dance and laugh, and spinning circles around the room while she tried not to cry.
And utterly failed .
Charles found her tucked into the corner of the window seat , most of the velvet curtain covering her as she tucked her knee up underneath her chin and cried silently , waterproof makeup not budging.
She thanked god for it. She might be a little unstable but her mascara wasn't .
He looked concerned, and rightfully so. She was Crying at a party that was more like a grand ball , all mopey and for the first time in a long time, arriving alone. Maybe that was what was hitting her then.
That she was really alone. She didn't have anyone by her side anymore , no one to sneak off with , no more stolen kisses, silly jokes and long goodbyes.
It was just her now. Sat in a pretty gown, champagne glass and tears in her eyes. If only a poet could see her now. She'd be the star of his novel.
Charles leant against the wall of the fancy window, looking down at her quietly for a moment . Taking in the way she refused to meet his eyes, he sighed sadly .
"You're too pretty to be crying in your pretty dress Cher." He murmured to her softly . Meaning it.
She just laughed bitterly "I'm too pretty to be getting cheated on and having my heart ripped out but..." she shrugged with attitude "happens to me all the time. So Leave me alone Charles." She tried to push him away.
Charles took one good look at her, then shook his head, laughing sadly at how easy she thought she could scare him away.
Instead He sat down beside her, pulling his knees up so that they were sat toe to toe. Tapping the heel of his dress shoes against her heels to make her look up at him.
Grinning a little at the glare she shot him, he shook his head fondly.
"No. I'm not." He simply denied. Because he wasn't going to leave her alone, crying at a party . No way. "Don't be silly."
"Piss off." She snapped back. Kicking his foot with her heel.
He barely reacted.
Instead, he snorted at her, smirking . "You've been hanging around lando too much. Should have said bugger off." He told her amused.
She glared even harder then , wiping underneath her eyes with a little huff.
“Charles. I'm serious. I don't want to talk to you." She told him , upset.
He just shrugged, getting comfortable . "Why are you so upset? Is this about that asshole again? Cause he doesn't deserve your tears." He asked her instead.
Cherrie groaned . Then looked at his soft eyes, stubborn face and gave in.
Her amor falling down just like that.
"I know but all I've known is touch and go." She murmured sadly . Finally Letting him in . "It's never permanent and it's always me that gets my heart broken. Men fucking suck."
Charles blinked , then "thanks. I can confirm that we do suck. But why are you crying? It's over now , no? You should be celebrating if anything, that you got rid of that asshole!" He nudged her foot with his again. Grinning at her like a fool as he tried to cheer her up.
and it worked. Her shoulders slowly relaxing without her even realising it as she giggled, looking over at him in amusement .
"In this party? They don't even have any real food! They offered tiny cheese that even a mouse would go hungry eating!" She complained to him.
Eyes widening in surprise when he suddenly jumped to his feet, grinning down at her as he offered her His hand.
"Come in then!" He said . Rolling his eyes when she just looked up at him like he was insane.
“Let's get out of here! We can see what's open and hang out . Hopefully over some pizza." He tugged at her hand impatiently , pulling her to her feet when she failed to do it herself.
Gasping a little with a laugh as he started rushing her out of the grand doors, paying no mind to the looks they received .
He just held onto her hand tighter , her other hand quickly reaching down to hold up her dress as they started to run down the dark and empty street together .
Charles laughing as she squealed , giggling along with him too.
"I'm going to fall!" She exclaimed while wobbling.
But Charles just tugged her closer, tightening his grip on her hand as he looked over at her with a wide grin on his face. Beaming at her , eyes sparkling beneath the moonlight.
"Then don't let go!" He said.
'We are alone, just you and me
Up in your room and our slates are clean
Just twin fire signs, four blue eyes'
Cherrie didn't know how she ended up here. In Charles room at midnight , sleep clouding her eyes as he pulled her lazily to his chest, his fingertips tracing soft letters into her shoulders. Feeling his soft breathing ontop of her forhead as he held her close , their legs intertwined as they listened to the faint sound of the radio playing .
"I shouldn't be doing this." She whispered into the dark, yet snuggled into him even closer . Feeling his lips curve into a smile against the top of her head, laughing lightly as he gently flicked between her shoulders
He just hummed "you should be doing whatever you want to be doing." He simply replked. Twirling her hair around his finger with his other hand, lost in all that she was. all that she could be.
Cherrie sighed, troubled.
Frowning sadly "I don't know what I want anymore." She admitted to him , feeling a small weight break apart from her chest as she did so.
Charles sighed too, like her sadness was hurting him. Then he carefully pulled away until they were nose to nose , looking into her eyes with all the patience in the world for her.
She softened. And He did too. His heart mirrored hers. All she was him then.
And All he had ever seen was her.
"And That's okay. You will." He believed it. He trusted it.
He had her now and he was going to make sure that she knew what good love felt like for as long as she would let him.
And she knew. And she exhaled shakily , hugging him to her as she felt a small surge of guilt run through her body.
"You don't want this Charles . I'm a mess." She tried to make him see.
But he did see her. and he loved what he saw, he always had. A few shitty ex boyfriends wouldn't scare him away.
"I think I'll decide what I want." He told her in vague amusement . As stubborn as she was. He wasn't about to let this , her, go.
"You'll be waiting a long time." She tried again. But it was futile .
He just laughed "I don't care. It'll be worth the wait." He whispered back to her, smiling softly.
She felt her cheeks flush and then she smiled too.
'And I've loved in shades of wrong
We learn to live with the pain
Mosaic broken hearts
But this love is brave and wild'
The ghost of past heartbreak got easier to deal with because of course it did. and what once felt overwhelming and painful now just felt something like vague annoyance , a little sadness of what could of been.
But she wasn't alone to face it this time. So when Ben, her ex , turned to her with a new woman on his arm at a party, she could only let out a resigned laugh. Because this was how she let go.
She felt Charles arm tighten briefly around her waist but she didn't look at him. Feeling him with her was enough to give her the courage to smile in face of somebody that had hurt her deeply, and now she barely felt a thing towards him at all.
"Hey." Ben breathed out nervously , looking at her with big eyes that darted between her and Charles with a slight frown. "How have you been?" He asked her .
It was then that she Finally glanced over at Charles, stifling a laugh as she saw the look on his face, clearly unimpressed and looking like he wanted nothing more than to trip her ex boyfriend into a pile of hot shit.
"How have I been?" She mused.
Meeting Charles knowing eyes as she thought about the summer of holidays , of exploring places and a new body. Of soft kisses and unbroken promises , of commitment and truths.
She thought about all the good love that she had experienced lately at the hands of Charles , who had done but persistently show her that she deserved nothing but the best.
That she didn't need to overthink the bare minimum because he gave her the world.
He have been showing her what a man truly in love looked like. And he was looking at her like she was his best friend, like she hung all the stars in his sky. Like he was looking at her and see the future , saw a bride. Saw a forever friend
So she smiled at Ben genuinely , shocking him as she told him Honeslty . "I've been good."
Because she was learning to live with the pain of broken memories. Of fading , old loves and she was slowly having her heart stitched back together by the soft hands of her teammate.
'This is a state of grace
This is the worthwhile fight
Love is a ruthless game
Unless you play it good and right'
But it wasn't easy and they're were moments were Cherrie was so sure that Charles would leave her. That he would see what a mess she really was and realise that she wasn't worth the fight.
But he stayed each and every time .
He fought back when she screamed at him to go, because he knew that wasn't what she really wanted…she just wasn't used to being verbally emotional with a guy that actually loved her.
She was So used to quick goodbyes and letting go. So used to feeling like a stepping stone.
But this was different now. It hit different now.
"This isn't going to fucking work Charles! You're insane for thinking that it ever would!" She screamed at him. Upset and worked up over something that she couldn't even explain.
All the ghosts of bad love making her like this. Making her shiver with unease . Expecting all the bad things, anticipating the goodbye.
And she thought that he would crumble , that he would leave her like they all did and had.
But this was Charles , who was just as stubborn as she was. and crazily in love with her too. He wasn't going anywhere.
He was in this for forever .
"You're insane If you think I'm just going to give up because you're scared Cherrie!" He gave it to her bluntly . Wanting to give her a little shake so that she would just listen to him.
She was so stubborn. But he loved her, so fucking much.
This was the worthwhile fight. And love is a ruthless game unless you play it good and right.
and he knew that she needed a little bit of tough love sometimes , some directness to get her there. She was used to being brushed aside and nobody fighting back, used to no effort and lies.
Charles wasn't going to let that happen ever again. He chose honesty . Always. Because no relationship would last if it was built on flimsy lies.
"All those other guys. They are idiots okay? They were stupid , insecure boys who didn't know what to do or how to handle a woman like you! They didn't know what they had until you are gone and that's on them. Not you." He told her firmly . Planting his hands gently on her arms to turn her to face him.
With attitude, she slapped them away. Huffing as she glared back at him. He stubbornly glared back too. Not giving in.
He wasn’t going to let her push him away.
“And you do? You can handle me?" She scoffed. Expecting him to back off the. . She was being a bitch and she knew it.
Because Charles was right, she was scared.
Because this felt real.
It was real. and she had never felt anything good like this before, she felt like she was waiting for it all to fall down .
Waiting For him to lie, to hurt her. To chose another girl , to love anyone but her when he finally got bored of her attitude , got sick of her in general.
But then she looked at him. His tearful eyes and incredulous smile as he took another step closer to her, never walking away. Looking at her with a shake of his head, even laughing a little and she knew.
She knew this was different.
This was it.
"I can. I do." He continued for her quietly "because I love you. I am so in love with you that when you’re being mean to me, When you’re making your stupid jokes and telling me all your bitchy gossip. and when you're everything that those other guys told you were 'bad traits'. I fall in love with you even more. Because you're you." He told her simply , heart wide open for her to see.
She had the keys to it, it felt like she always had. He had just been waiting for her to use them, to see him.
"And I love you."
She could see him clearly now. And she finally believed him, trusted him.
So she kissed him .
She grabbed his face between her hands. And kissed him like it would be the last time, but it was the beginning of forever .
He was going to be the last man she ever kissed hopefully , his head tilting with a soft moan as he pulled her close. Even smiling ahinst her teeth as she tried to deepen it , groaning in frustration when his breathless laugh forced them to break apart.
"What?" She wondered. Grinning just because he was. She gently stroked the red apples of his cheeks with her thumbs , fondly .
He turned his head and gently kissed her hand "I'm gonna need to head you say it back." He told her seriously. Impatiently this time.
He even placed his hands on his hips , raising a eyebrow at her while she just huffed a laugh of amusement . Shaking her head at him with a little giggle, pulling him back into her.
"I am so in love with you, you idiot! God! How could I not be?" She breathed out. Her Heart finally healed, heart golden and her heart all for him.
He kissed her this time. and he kissed her and it tasted like forever. It tasted like love.
But this time, it felt good and right. It was worth the wait, worth every tear and every fight.
Because All the bad love had brought her here, into his arms. Where he was always waiting , and she was never gonna be the same.
'This is the golden age of something good and right and real'.
#Charles leclerc fic#Charles leclerc imagine#Charles leclerc oneshot#f1 imagine#f1 oneshot#f1 fic#formula one oneshot#formula one imagine
205 notes
·
View notes
Text
Luck of The Draw
Prompt: Seasonal Depression, Leeches (Melanie Martinez), First Born, That’s Life.
Person: Shuu Sakamaki
HC’s:
🎱 Since Shuu’s the first born, I’d like to assume that he’s seen everything.
🎱 You know that one FNAF audio? “I was the first, I have seen… everything.” Yeah, that’s him and his entire life in a nutshell.
🎱 Everything he’s ever had to work for, he’s always lost 10x the amount of his payout.
🎱 Hence, luck of the draw.
🎱 Melanie Martinez— Leeches— was a big inspo, Shuu 100% has this song on his playlist.
🎱 He relates to it HEAVILY.
🎱 “Strainin’ their artificial, Yappin’ to seem official, Makin’ it beneficial to their cause”— Shuu definitely felt those lyrics in his soul. He only thought of his father, and his eventual corruption, or perhaps him learning of how horrible of a man and a father Karlheinz was.
🎱 He was in denial. Because how could a child want to hate their father? No child would ever want that. And he didn’t either.
🎱 I think it took him some time to accept the fact that Karlheinz was an evil, cruel man, and even more of a monster to his wives and children.
🎱 Christa was proof enough. And I’d like to assume that his heart shattered that day, not only by shock for Christa, but for whatever remorse he could spare. Shuu could excuse anything done to him, but anyone else? Never.
🎱 Shuu’s learned everything he knows by watching his father. Everything Karlheinz did, Shuu did better.
🎱 Shuu’s always been the prized child, perhaps the apple of his fathers eye, before Subaru would come along, that is.
🎱 He wouldn’t feel any resentment persay, more so acceptance towards the fact that all he is and ever will be is a placeholder or someone to be taken advantage of.
🎱 Shuu was the first to see his father act like a father, or at least to his best ability towards him, before reaching his declination state that we currently see him as of now.
🎱 In fact, Shuu’s somewhat seen as a filled cup, always pouring and giving, and never once being offered anything other than scraps.
🎱 That’s how he’s become so burnt out and resorts to his habitual sleeping.
🎱 He has what we call, 3 nap phases. The pre-nap exhaustion, main-nap exhaustion, and post-nap exhaustion— and if it’s really bad then a ‘dessert’ nap or extra spare nap.
🎱 Shuu’s naps go on for 10+ hours.
🎱 They equally drain him mentally and emotionally.
🎱 “How much blood can you draw with your claws, From a flesh that’s not yours?”— Shuu instantly thought of Reiji and his cruel treatment directed towards him. Perhaps he’d lament it on another day.
🎱 Maybe all he could ever be was a useless man. But he’d never be his father. Not the way in which Karlheinz betrayed him so easily. Tossing him aside as if he was nothing to him. No sentimental value, nothing.
🎱 Shuu is 100% an empath and very sentimental towards others feelings.
🎱 Throughout the years he had to numb this side of him due to the strenuous competition for the throne.
🎱 But if you catch him on a rare moment, will he show his side of care— pure, raw, even slightly intimate, care. It felt uncharacteristic of him, but for a moment he felt like the most humane out of the brothers.
🎱 As if he was human once upon a lifetime ago.
🎱 “They’ll find any way, Just to make you stay, Right where they want you, In their piss-covered games.”— He can resonate with Karlheinz and his plan. Never in Shuu’s life, did he want to become a pawn. He 100% tried to get himself exempted in secret. Just something about living his entire life, his entire purpose, just to be a pawn in another one of his fathers games— it hurt, but also upset him deeply.
🎱 He’s done everything in his life to not be like his father or his mother. And to find out that it was all in vain? All for nothing? That’d secretly tear him apart and send him into a comatose.
🎱 Shuu may look like his mother, may share similar panels towards his father, but he was his own person.
🎱 He would grow to become his own king, a better husband, a better man.
🎱 Anything and everything to separate himself from his creators. He wasn’t his own master, but he was definitely his own disciple.
#diabolik lovers#diabolik lovers fandom#dl fandom#dl aesthetic board#diabolik lovers aesthetic board#diabolik lovers headcanons#dl hcs#shuu sakamaki#sakamaki shuu#shu sakamaki#sakamaki shu#Spotify
41 notes
·
View notes
Text
Fic writing challenge- music edition!
Thank you @saynomorefic for the tag 🥰
Shuffle your on repeat playlist and let your followers pick their favorite of the 10 first songs WITH A CATCH!! You must write a five sentence fic (or drabble if needed) inspired by that song and / or containing a lyric!
this is a mixture of Omar, writing inspo and my running playlist 😅 two of these songs I already have fics in the works for!
tagging @vvachillessongvv and anyone else who wants to take part!
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
Commoner, Part 2--Secret
Part 2 of Commoner! Part 1 can be found here. We’re picking up where we left off (Leo left, Sav is pregnant, and no one knows)
This story was born of a long-standing head canon (Sav would crush on the older brother, not her brother’s best friend), and the song inspiration (original version, but used the sad and acoustic version for this fic); lyrics are also taken from the song inspo.
IF you read this, THANK YOU! Your likes, comments, and/or reblogs are appreciated more than you realize. Please excuse any and all typos, missing/extraneous words, and/or grammatical errors. MS Editor rates this story as 99% error-free.
To all those who read over this story in its various variations and renditions, THANK YOU! Your feedback, ideas, and encouragement was invaluable (as always).
Thanks to @choicesflashfics for their Week 62 prompt #2, which will appear in bold.
Song Inspo: Strangers (sad and acoustic version), Kenya Grace
Pairing(s): Savannah Walker x Leo Rys; Savannah Walker x Bertrand Beaumont
Word Count: 2,201
Rating: M for Mature themes
I sit in the back of the sleek, black Mercedes that is Duchy Ramsford’s official vehicle with the Brothers Beaumont, en route to the Palace. King Constantine has requested a meeting of the Great Houses.
And me.
I vacillate between relief that he will put those awful rumors to rest, and fear that Leo will be there with that woman.
“You appear to be deep in thought,” Bertrand observes. “Are you feeling well?”
I plaster a quick smile onto my lips. “Merely curious why the King would want me to be present at this meeting.”
The Duke gives me a solicitous nod, and I again wonder why he’s been so nice to me since our breakfast encounter. It’s not that Bertrand is a bad guy; he has taught me a lot during my month at House Beaumont. I know more than I ever wanted to about utensils, glassware, table etiquette, and bloodlines and lineage. I now know that the reason I don’t have the title of Lady, the most ubiquitous yet ambiguous title a woman can hold, is because I don’t belong to a House.
I’m commoner.
But he isn’t a nice guy either, so the attention is a bit … odd.
“I wonder if it has anything to do with Leo, and all the news stories?” Max pipes up. “Although I suppose if Bastien is at the Palace and Leo isn’t, that may be all the confirmation we need.”
Bertrand looks out the window. “We’re here,” he announces.
I swear I feel my baby flip inside my stomach, which is stupid. I’m only eight weeks along.
As we walk up the front staircase, I don’t feel a sense of homecoming. I only feel dread. My throat closes when Bastien opens the door and leads us to the formal living room where the other guests are gathered. Groups are huddled close together; there are murmurs of conversations I cannot hear. I hug my brother and struggle through a curtsy meant to encompass the entire room. No one acknowledges me other than Kiara, who gives me a huge grin and enthusiastic hug.
And I wonder why I feel the need to be a part of this world, to be accepted by the very people who never will.
That it'll never change And it will just stay like this
I catch a glimpse of Madeleine, who is stone-faced; only the paleness of her skin and the clenching of her jaw signals anger, embarrassment, and hurt. I look down at her hands; her fingers are bare of jewelry.
Leo has left both of us.
The King clears his throat, and we all turn towards the front of the room. He is flanked by Queen Regina and Liam; all of them are wearing stoic expressions and I know … in my brain, my heart, my very soul … Leo has run off and fulfilled promises he could never make to me to another woman. I’m a single, teenaged mother with absolutely nothing to my name; I can’t even leverage the child growing inside of me.
There is a buzzing in my ears that drowns out the words my monarch is uttering until he states that Liam will ascend to the throne. There is to be a social season, and I will be the House Beaumont sponsee. The Crown will fund my sponsorship as I was still their ward and had no properties of my own. Drake’s face darkens, Bertrand beams proudly, and Max jumps up and down in excitement.
There’s something about Bertrand’s smile … he isn’t surprised to hear this news. Did he already know what to expect? Was Leo the phone call that morning?
I throw up on the priceless carpet and my hand-me-down shoes.
Three weeks pass, weeks where I scour newspapers, magazines, and the internet for news of my baby’s father. There is a plethora of media, mostly photos of him in motocross tournaments: smiling happily in the Mojave Desert, frowning in concentration as he inspects his vehicle in UAE, sunning on a beach in Greece. The woman is not in the pictures, and rarely mentioned in the articles.
Now she can be his dirty little secret.
And when we spoke for months Well, did you ever mean it? How can we say that this is love When it goes like this?
Meanwhile, in Cordonia, my hips are spreading; my breasts are getting fuller, and my belly is only slightly rounded. Bertrand has ramped up my training but takes care to give me breaks throughout the day and we are now spending our meals together without Maxwell. He shares stories of his education, his time as a fashion designer, and memories of his childhood.
He walks me to my room every evening; occasionally he holds my hand.
I am not in love with Bertrand, but I find myself enjoying his company more and more.
But every time I meet somebody new It's like déjà vu I swear they sound the same It's like they know my skin
We’re sitting in Bertrand’s study one night; he is poring over documents related to Liam’s cabinet. Bertrand and Rashad Domvallier are to be financial and legal advisors to the new future King. I watch him nervously. I’ve decided that tonight is the time to tell him I cannot be the House’s sponsee. It isn’t fair to not tell him; he’ll need time to find someone new and school them in the ways of nobility.
My fingernails pluck nervously at my robe. I could very well be homeless in the next 15 minutes. Bertrand takes his duties as Duke seriously and is extremely rigid when it came to appearances and reputation; an unwed, pregnant commoner could not reside under the roof of House Beaumont. However, returning to the Palace would be a disaster between King Constantine and Big Brother Drake.
But it has to be done. This baby is going to make itself known sooner than later.
He drains his third glass of cognac before sighing heavily and pushing himself away from his desk. With an unsteady gait, he crosses the room to join me on the sofa. He looks almost regal in his gold silk robe with black piping, and black pajama bottoms. He sits so closely, I smell his cologne; it’s Hermès.
Leo always wore Armani.
“Savannah, I’d like to have a … conversation of a different sort with you.” His breath smells of liquor and his words are slightly slurred.
“Isn’t that funny?” I reply in a squeaky voice. “I wanted to have one with you also.”
He pulls one of my hands into his as he begins to speak. “You need to know that while you may be participating in the social season, you won’t win the hand of the Crown Prince. The position requires someone of lineage, with a knowledge of world politics and has a pulse on the fluctuating nature of both Court and Crown. However, the Engagement Tour should afford you an opportunity to marry into a minor house.”
I stare at him dumbfounded. Drunk Bertrand pisses me off.
“However, I do find myself being very attracted to you. I propose an offer that should be beneficial to both of us. I’d like you to be my mistress until we both find persons worthy of our status and station. You would become an honorary member of House Beaumont to assure you have a title, and I can be a very generous lover in more ways than one.”
He drops my hand and rises from the couch on his second attempt. He goes to a coat closet, opens the door, and retrieves a package. The box is emblazoned with Hermès’ name and logo. He brings it back to me, carefully placing it in my lap.
“Open it,” he urges.
I do so to find a limited-edition white matte satchel, made of leather and silk. The tag is still attached: $200,000 USD. I look up at him, knowing that he wants me to know how much it costs.
“Your … mistress?” I ask as my body feels as if it’s going numb.
And it will just stay like this Never really dating, breaking up
“This world is cruel. I’m just playing by its rules. It would behoove you to do so as well. You can’t be anything else to me or anyone of stature. You’re a commoner with the most basic of public education. You are ignorant in the ways of Court, the circles you would need to travel in. I am happy to give you the benefit of my knowledge, but at the end of the day, I am a Duke. Dukes don’t marry commoners.”
He says it all as if he is telling me the sun will rise in the east. Bertrand means no harm; nobles never do. Or so they claim.
Every word they say sounds just like him
My eyes fall back to the price tag, realizing I have my way out. I can keep my secret, and everyone’s precious reputation is intact.
“It’s late, Your Grace and you have given me a lot to process. I’ll have an answer for you in due time.”
He gives me a small smile. “May I … may I kiss you?”
A small shake of my head. “No,” I reply in an almost-rueful tone.
I know my place.
His smile falters, and he nods slowly. “My apologies. That was presumptuous of me.”
I mentally shake my head. THAT is what he considered to be the most horrible thing about his proposition? I box the purse again, and stand.
“I’ll see you at breakfast.”
Three months later, I am standing on the balcony of my small pied-a-terre located in a quaint, quiet Parisian neighborhood, watching the day come to an end. The sun is still bright in the sky, but evening is fast approaching. My fingers comb through my dark, thick tresses before pulling a toffee-colored cardigan tighter across my expanding body.
It’s springtime and I think again how leaving Cordonia to settle here was the best move. Paris had always been my dream destination: red lipsticks, rich wines, decadent perfumes, trendy runway fashions.
The baby and I have even learned to enjoy the food.
My eyes take in the Palais Garnier, also known as the Paris Opera House, not that far in the distance before falling to the cobblestoned streets below: restaurant and café doors open, unleashing aromas of grilled meat and sauteed onions as bakeries pull window shades down. Women with chic hats and impossibly high heels exit dress stores, shopping bags bunched in fisted hands. Street vendors begin putting away their wares.
My stomach rumbles, and I head inside. There had been a late breakfast/early lunch a few hours ago, but the fruit, yogurt, and cheese and spinach omelet have all but disappeared now. My child has a healthy appetite. I walk around a black wrought iron table with matching chairs, pausing to fluff oversized chair cushions decorated with huge sunflowers.
I push the terrace door shut behind me before going into the kitchen. I had taken a chicken out earlier, but I no longer have an appetite for it. Instead, I want pistou pasta with grilled duck and extra mushrooms from my favorite bistro.
But money is tight. Despite having a job and being frugal with the savings leftover from the sale of the purse Bertrand gifted me, I need to be mindful of rent, food, doctor’s appointments once the child gets here and I will be on unpaid leave.
I’m having a boy that I will name Barthelemy, Bartie for short. It’s my way of paying homage to Maxwell for being such an incredible and caring friend during all of this. He doesn’t know who the father is and has never pressured me to tell him. He sends money and has offered to make an honest woman of me.
All of this even though I left House Beaumont without a sponsee, and they now either have to find one that they will have to fully sponsor or withdraw.
A knock at the door captures my attention; I stare at it with a frown. I don’t have many friends in Paris; Maxwell is due for his monthly visit next week. He’s bringing Drake and Kiara with him. They were the only two I instructed Maxwell to tell of my whereabouts. Drake and I aren’t close, but we are all we have left as far as family. He deserved to know. Kiara’s my best girlfriend, and she speaks French. Win-win.
I would like to see Liam, but he has much to learn and do before the social season begins in less than 12 weeks.
I slowly and laboriously cross the small distance between the kitchen and the front door; my eye widens as I peer through the peephole.
Leo.
He looks even more handsome if that’s possible. He carries a bouquet of flowers in one hand as he looks around the hallway. I quietly and cautiously back away from the door as tears prick the corners of my eyes.
And then one random night When everything changes You won't reply And we'll go back to strangers
Tagging: @jared2612 @ao719 @marietrinmimi @indiacater @kingliam2019 @bebepac @liamxs-world @mom2000aggie @liamrhysstalker2020 @twinkleallnight @umccall71 @superharriet@busywoman @gabesmommie1130 @tessa-liam @beezm @gardeningourmet @lovingchoices14 @mainstreetreader @angelasscribbles @lady-calypso @emkay512 @princessleac1 @charlotteg234 @alj4890 @motorcitymademadame @queenmiarys @choicesficwriterscreations
38 notes
·
View notes