#i adore his little spiel

[columboscreens]

[quynhorlose]

franz kafka needs to leave me the hell alone i cannot emotionally handle this anymore

[seiwas]

andie you have made me yearn for this man with a want so deeply rooted into my being 🥲😭🥲

i maxxed the tags but just wanted to add this one more thing — that he is soooo acts of service here its driving me insane. to be loved is to be known, that saying 🥲 my chest ached at the bookstore, at when he said that everything that’s his is rdr’s oh my goooood literally HOW TO GET A HE. HOW TO GET A HE i’m losing it. thank u for writing this I SWEAR

𝑤𝘩𝑒𝑛 𝑖 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒 : 𝑡𝑜𝑑𝑜𝑟𝑜𝑘𝑖 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑡𝑜 𝑥 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 : 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑖𝑣

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: In order to placate your anxious mother, you agree to return to your hometown to participate in a mating run—knowing full well that betas rarely get chased, never mind betas nearly old enough to age out of the practice. You’ve decided to treat it like a vacation, a chance to visit with your childhood friends, the mating run itself a nice relaxing hike.All in all it’s a solid plan—until alpha Todoroki Shouto, your best friend's little brother,steps in and blows it all to pieces. 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡: omegaverse, no quirks au, alpha!shouto, beta!reader, mating rituals, age gap, best friend’s little brother, older reader, afab reader, some class differences, aged up characters, semi-public sex, slight small town romance vibes, background implied dabihawks for some reason, smut, knotting, 18+; mdni! 𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑔𝑡ℎ: 7.6k | chapter 4 of 4

Then

“Shouto duty,” was the first thing Touya grumbled as he emerged from his house.

A little shadow with red and white hair peered out from behind him, big eyes staring up at you. Shouto was dressed in a periwinkle t-shirt and khaki shorts in the late spring heat, and he was nearly vibrating with excitement. You reached out reflexively to pat that fluff of hair, and Shouto seemed to lean into your touch like a cat, probably starved of affection from his fussy older brother.

“My lucky day,” you said, grinning at the way it made Touya roll his eyes.

Shouto nearly launched himself off the steps, looking quietly thrilled to be tagging along. He shoved himself in between you and Touya as you walked, as if unable to bear Touya’s proximity to you, making Touya bark out an annoyed, “Oi, watch it.”

Shouto ignored him, turning to you. “Y/N, I have something to tell you.”

You looked down at him curiously. “What?”

“I lost a tooth,” he said, staring up at you seriously. You laughed, knowing most kids would have smiled to show off their tooth gap, but Shouto had always been a little bit more withdrawn, though he was fairly open around you.

“When?” you asked, ignoring Touya’s scoff. “Did the tooth fairy come?”

Shouto nodded. “Last night. I am adding the money to my inheritance for you.”

That made you laugh again, and you bumped his shoulder. “You’re a good kid, Shouto. I think you should buy yourself something with it though. Especially in this weather—it’s good popsicle weather.”

Shouto looked like he was seriously considering this. “Do you like popsicles?”

You nodded. “Definitely.”

He seemed to pocket that information, and you hid a fond smile. That kid was too sweet for his own good, when it came to you. You wondered when his little case of older-brother’s-friend worship would end. You hoped not for another few years, at least.

“Fucking finally,” Touya said when he caught sight of Rumi and Keigo at the end of his neighborhood, his booted steps growing faster, as if eager to get away from the two of you.

You didn’t mind—Shouto was easy company.

“Oi!” Keigo called out to you, waving a skinny arm. You accompanied Shouto over, watching with a little bit of self-satisfaction when Shouto ducked a hair ruffle from Rumi, the look on his face almost reminiscent of Touya.

You were still his favorite, it seemed.

The usual round of arguments commenced about what to play now that all of you were united, Touya snottily vetoing everyone’s suggestions—except, notably, Keigo’s. Eventually you settled on hide and seek, something Shouto could participate in too, since it didn’t involve convoluted rules, and established a set distance you could go.

Finally Shouto was dubbed the first seeker, and the rest of you took off into the surrounding neighborhood.

You immediately beelined for the sprawling oak at the edge of the neighborhood, its thick, leafy branches the perfect place to conceal yourself. Touya, Keigo, and Rumi had long caught on to the fact that you were almost always to be found up a tree, but Shouto hadn’t played this game with you before.

Thirty seconds and one bark-scraped palm later had you settled in your hiding place, just as you caught Shouto’s shout from afar, “Ready or not, here I come!”

You quieted your breath, listening for the sound of his approach. This late in spring, the cicadas were already roaring. The leaves rustled around you in the breeze and you could hear some other band of kids shrieking and laughing, far in the distance.

It was nearing ten minutes on by the time you heard the thump of Shouto’s sneakers approaching, and you could just make out that distinct mop of bright hair through the branches. He poked around behind bushes, peering at eye level, but didn’t seem to think to look up for you. You watched him hunt through the surrounding area, then dash off when you heard a distinctly Keigo squawk not too far away.

You were nearly asleep on your tree branch when you heard his return, and you sat up quietly to watch him again. You were impressed that he seemed to know you were somewhere nearby.

As you watched him rifle around, you wondered if you should drop a hint, just because he’d been so sweet to you earlier. He’d been so adorable insisting he’d save you his tooth money.

You deliberately rustled a branch, leaning on it so it made a loud creak.

Immediately, Shouto’s head snapped up. Two mismatched eyes narrowed in on you, and his face seemed to brighten when he saw you. A small smile quirked the corner of his mouth.

“Caught you,” he called up to you.

You stuck a leg down tauntingly. “Not yet.”

Something passed over Shouto’s face, and his gaze seemed to sharpen. “I have, too.” You could almost hear a foot stamp in his voice.

You grinned. “Not until I get down.”

A determined look settled across Shouto’s features, and he prowled over to the tree. You watched him jump for a lower branch, catching it securely before hefting himself up. His arms were skinny, but his movements were sure, intent. In no time at all you were helping lever him onto your own branch, pulling him up alongside you.

“I caught you,” Shouto repeated, settling a proprietary hand on your arm. His hand was warm, and his fingers caught your wrist tightly.

You smiled. “I let you catch me by making all that noise, you mean.”

A tiny frown pulled at Shouto’s mouth. “I knew you were around here,” he said, something almost like a pout in his voice.

You laughed. “I did notice you came back. Those are some good tracking skills—although don’t forget to look up. I’m usually always up a tree, when it comes to hide and seek, and Touya and the others I think have caught on too. They’re probably up their own trees somewhere.”

“I do not care about finding them,” Shouto said. His straightforward tone startled a laugh out of you.

You settled back against the branch, Shouto still gripping your arm firmly. “Should we let them wait, then?” you asked, grinning. “I bet Rumi will come out on her own pretty soon, she’s so impatient.”

Shouto nodded. “I will stay here with you.”

The sincerity of the statement warmed you, the way Shouto’s serious little proclamations always did. He was too sweet for this earth. “Then shall we discuss which popsicle you’re going to get later? I have some recommendations.”

Shouto nodded seriously, and you launched into your nonsense, pleased. The leaves rustled around you, the breeze cool and pleasant against your skin. It felt like time stretched out around you, thick like taffy, slow and lazy and easy in the late spring breeze.

You thought absently that wished you could have a million more moments, Shouto the easiest company beside you, just like this.

Now

The morning of the run dawned warm and dry, sunny with a light breeze.

It was perfect hiking weather, and that was the only thing that kept you in good spirits. You tried not to think about Shouto—about how he was going after someone today, how you’d possibly seen him for the last time before he did. He’d said he’d find your tree, but there was really no guarantee his omega was going to run in the same direction as you.

You ate breakfast on the couch with your mother, listening to her excitedly chatter about your prospects today. You hammed it up a little bit, pretending you had any interest in being chased by an alpha, so that you could milk it later and avoid promises to commit to next year’s run. You hoped it would be enough of a deterrent for her—every year you grew older without a mate, she seemed more desperate to find you one.

You repacked your bags, readying yourself to board your train back to the city tomorrow, feeling mournful. Then you spent the rest of the morning finishing up the small things your mother had let go while you were gone, YouTubing your way through a door knob repair, and some weather stripping replacements. You lifted her air-conditioning into the window, swearing and sweating the whole time and wishing you had even a fraction of Shouto’s easy alpha strength.

After everything was finished, you packed up for the run, placing all your snacks and the sandwich Shouto had helped assemble into a small backpack, stuffing in a water and a book after. Then you scrounged around in your clean laundry for some hiking clothes, settling on leggings and a tee-shirt, no reason to try to impress anyone.

It was late morning by the time you ducked out of your house and started the trek to the preserve on the edge of town. Throngs of people were already gathered when you got there, alphas and omegas alike crowding the entrance. An overwhelming mixture of scents washed over you, the sweetness and florals of the omegas, the tang and spice of the alphas, even the small muted underwash of a few betas.

The overstimulation was nostalgic, and brought to mind your first few runs—the anticipatory hope you felt, the determination not to get caught for some one-time mating with an alpha who wouldn’t prove to be your life mate. It had been years, and you knew the outcome already this time, but some small thrill of anticipation thrummed in your veins regardless.

You kept to the edge of the crowd, sprawling out on the grass until the organizers called for the omegas and running betas to come forward to their starting mark. The alphas and remaining betas would be called to the mark a half hour later, to follow their intended targets into the preserve.

Then the whistle was being blown, and the crowd of omegas around you surged into the forest.

The first hundred meters of the preserve were a tangle of wild trees and overgrowth—omegas typically stayed on the trails until the forest opened up, several paths intersecting and leading away into hills and towards a pond, with the last one stretching towards the coast. This was your usual route and you followed it until the trees thinned out, then stepped off the path to tromp through the woods in the direction of the coastline.

You kept a brisk pace, wanting to get as far in as you could before the alphas were let in. Eventually the spruces and firs gave way to mostly coastal scrub pines amid tall grass, and you could smell the ocean through the trees, hear the crash of the waves against the rocky outcroppings.

You stepped out of the woods along a small coastal path that stretched for miles, and followed it a few minutes more until it flattened out. There was a small meadow laid into the coastline, spanning several square meters of pale seagrass and flowering bushes, shaded by an enormous willow tree—your target.

The meadow had a beautiful view of the shining blue waves through the barren scrub trees, but more importantly it was out of the way, little known to people who did not frequent the coastline trails. The willow was the perfect cover, its trailing fingers and dense greenery more than enough to hide one disinterested beta.

You ducked through the leaves, latching onto one of the lower branches and heaving yourself up. It had been years since you’d climbed anything—the city not exactly chalk-full of great climbing trees—but you were pleased to find it just as satisfying. You scrambled up into the canopy, testing your weight against your designated branch, finding it still held you easily.

Perfect.

You immediately rewarded yourself with a granola bar, settling onto your branch and chewing contentedly, pleased with the temperature. The sun was hot, but in the shade of the leaves and the salty breeze drifting in off the sea, it was perfectly comfortable.

You’d just gotten out your book to read, flipping to the spot you’d last left off at, when the chirp of nearby birds stopped. The meadow seemed to grow quiet around you.

You sat up, alert, at the soft tread of a bootfall close by. Your breath froze in your lungs. An omega, looking for a place to hide? Or some alpha?

Except then a long-fingered hand parted the hanging tendrils of the willow, and a familiar head of scarlet and white hair was ducking inside the canopy.

Embarrassingly, your heart swelled. Shouto had made time to stop in before finding his omega.

“Shouto!” you shouted down, pleased.

Shouto’s face tipped up to you, a tiny smile on his mouth. He looked especially good today, you thought, a navy tee shirt stretched across his broad shoulders, baring the flesh of his biceps, a flush on his cheeks from the warm spring sun. He looked a little taken apart, windswept like he’d run here, and you furiously stamped down on the flash of heat in your tummy.

Nope. No.

“Y/N,” Shouto intoned quietly, his eyes glittering up at you. “Caught you.”

You were momentarily taken aback by the sound of something unfamiliar in his tone, some strange intensity in his voice and expression. It sounded almost like it meant something to find you here, something more than a momentary pitstop on his way to his omega—but of course that was ridiculous.

You waved down at him, smiling and sticking a leg down tauntingly like when you were kids. “Not yet.”

Shouto’s eyes narrowed, a flash of something predatory tinging his handsome features.

In the blink of an eye, he crossed to the tree, dense muscle coiling and pulling beneath his tee shirt as he pulled himself up. This time he needed none of your help, moving with a panther-like grace. He pulled himself onto the branch immediately below yours, close enough that it put him at eye level with the bottom of your chin.

Then he reached out and snared your ankle in one large, warm hand, a smug sort of glint in his eye. The follow up caught you went unspoken.

Another laugh bubbled up out of you. “Alright alright, this time you got me,” you agreed, flexing your ankle in his hold.

Shouto’s mouth turned up, clearly pleased, but he did not let go. A thumb stroked softly along the hollow beneath your ankle bone. A surprised shiver caught you, sliding up your spine.

“You, um, got here so quick,” you said, trying to think past the sudden fuzz of static in your brain. You hoped your voice sounded impressed and not embarrassingly breathy. “Did you at least note which way your life mate went?”

Shouto’s head tilted, his bangs falling into his eyes as his thumb petted across your skin again. “I did.”

You nodded approvingly, tensing against another shudder. “Did they come out this way? You’re probably the first alpha to make it out here but you won’t want to waste too much time.”

Shouto’s mouth twitched, those heterochromatic eyes trailing down your face. “No time spent with you is a waste.”

That made your face warm. You tried to prod him with your foot, but Shouto’s grip was firm. “You’re going to want to save the charm for your life mate, mister.”

“I am,” he said simply, tone sincere.

You felt your brow furrow—now what was that supposed to mean?—when suddenly Shouto leaned forward, abandoning his grip on your ankle. His hands found the branch at either side of your hip, trapping you inside his reach. You stared down at him, stunned with his sudden proximity.

You felt suddenly a little caged in, your breath pulling up short. What was he—?

“Will you come down to me?” Shouto asked, eyes intent on yours.

The ask felt significant, though you had no idea how. And he was so close, so focused on you.

But you had no clue exactly what he would need you to come down for. Maybe he wanted to split lunch or something? You had your sandwich in your bag, and it would be easier on the ground, you supposed.

Although Shouto probably shouldn’t go running around on too full a stomach, especially if he—with his omega, after—if they…

You found you couldn’t think it, your mind shying away like you’d prodded a nerve.

Really, Shouto should be going soon, before any ranging alphas made it this far out and sniped his life mate before he got to them.

With that thought, however, some selfish thing recoiled inside of you. You desperately craved just a few more minutes with him—this achingly familiar boy, this mind-numbingly beautiful man—before he wasn’t really yours to think of anymore. These were the last few moments you’d get to spend with him before everything changed. It took less than a second to make up your mind.

“Yeah,” you said, smiling. “I’ll come down.”

You shifted, gathering your backpack and maneuvering off your branch carefully. Shouto gave you just enough space to get down, a hand finding your waist as you steadied yourself. He shadowed you down, close at your back to make sure you didn’t slip.

He was acting the consummate gentleman—but there was a strange tension about him, something about the way he moved and the intensity with which he was trailing you. There was something expectant about it, something almost impatient.

Maybe he needed you to hurry up so he could get going. That was probably it.

You turned to your backpack as soon as he guided you safely to the ground. You’d barely gotten it unzipped, however, when Shouto suddenly crowded into your space, startling you.

You stumbled a reflexive step back, breath whooshing out of you when your back connected with the trunk of the willow. Shouto followed, still watching you with that unnerving intensity.

His fingers dipped under your chin, softly turning your face up to his. His gaze was serious—more solemn than you had ever seen him. You went still in his grasp, heartbeat rabbiting in your chest.

What was with him today?

“Shouto,” you said slowly. “Are you… alright?”

Shouto leaned down, pressing his forehead to yours. His slow exhale ghosted over your mouth, thumb stroking across your jaw. It sent a swarm of shudders down your spine, and you suddenly weren’t breathing at all.

“I have dreamed of this moment a thousand times,” Shouto said, his tone reverent. It was almost a whisper.

His tone implied there was something incredibly significant about this moment, but you could not for the life of you think of what. Especially not with his face so close, clouding up your thoughts.

You felt your brow furrow against his, and you opened your mouth to ask him what on earth he could be talking about.

Except before you could, Shouto’s hands took either side of your face. And then he bent his head—and pressed his mouth to yours.

All higher thought immediately evacuated your brain, leaving only a sudden zing of panic and the horrible, wonderful excitement of Shouto’s mouth on yours, of Shouto’s strong body so close to yours. Rough bark scraped against your back as Shouto’s front slotted warm and firm against your chest, and the feeling of all that strength pressed so tightly to you made you dizzy.

“Sho–-? Whuh—?” you said, slightly muffled into his mouth.

But Shouto only took the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth, soft and wet and so unbelievably hot your brain short circuited. Every single nerve ending in your body lit up as you realized Todoroki Shouto had his tongue in your mouth, and that he was kissing you so thoroughly and meticulously it felt as though this was the last kiss he’d ever be allowed. You heard yourself let out a gasp that turned into an embarrassing moan as he pressed harder against you, pinning you between himself and the tree.

Your mind felt like it was melting, Shouto’s mouth doing terrible things to your thoughts’ coherence. Your hands went to his shoulders, and you found yourself opening up to him, every inch of your skin hot. Every flick of his tongue, every brush of his lips felt better than you could have ever imagined, and you were helpless to do anything but let him have you.

Your thoughts were a puddle when Shouto finally let your mouth free. All you could do was stare up at him, shocked.

“Y/N,” Shouto said, his eyes searching your face. “You came down for me.”

His handsome face wore an expression you hadn’t ever seen before as he regarded you, something almost—possessive? His hands had slid to your waist, his touch hot through the material of your shirt.

Your brain swam. Words, what were words? “I—? Uh, yes—?”

Shouto seemed to understand you weren’t getting his point. “‘If I’m not an alpha, and I have to hide somewhere, I’m going to find the best tree in the preserve and go up it and not come down until I find my life mate,’” he said.

It sounded like a quote, and it took you an embarrassingly long moment to realize it was something you had said, years and years and years ago, when you were both kids.

Was he saying—? But that was absurd. No, there was no way. You hadn’t—he wasn’t—

“But you’re Shouto,” you groped around your thoughts for logic and reasoning. “You’re Shouto.”

Shouto watched you patiently, a white eyebrow raising slightly.

“You can’t mean—?” you sputtered. “No. You’re Touya’s baby brother. I’m too old for you. The first time I held you, you were a baby.”

Shouto pressed impossibly closer to you, a long-fingered hand winding its way into yours. “I am not a child, Y/N. And you are not that much older than I.”

You struggled to think through the feeling of his body pressed to yours. You knew it. You knew he wasn’t a child. But all the same, you’d spent long enough telling yourself he’d been meant for someone else. Long enough convinced that you were too old for him.

Long enough that you were absolutely certain this had to be a mistake.

“You’re off limits,” you told him, trying to press him back. Shouto did not budge, however, as solid as stone under your hand.

“You are my life mate,” he said. He raised your joined hands to his mouth, kissing over your knuckles. An electric jolt went through you at the feeling of that mouth on you again, firm and warm. “I have known my whole life. I am off limits to all but you.”

A storm of emotion churned in your gut, everything from guilt to disbelief to pleasure to relief. To hear it said so plainly, after all this time—you are my life mate—by a man who was already so beloved to you. By a boy you’d loved as a friend, a man who you wanted to love as more.

But you couldn’t—he had to deserve better.

“I won’t take advantage of you,” you insisted.

A small smile pulled at Shouto’s mouth. “I am not a child. And I am an alpha besides. Your alpha.”

You fought down a furious flush.

“But Shouto there’s so many things–!” you insisted. Beyond being older than him, beyond being a staple in his life since he was young. You were quickly realizing so many of the promises he’d made when he was younger, he actually meant.

“Your inheritance—I never meant to accept that from you for real. And your family, they would not like that I—”

The rest of your words were muffled in Shouto’s mouth, as he bent his head and kissed you again. A flick of his tongue turned even that into a muffled squeak instead. Why was he so good at this?

“Much of my family understands what it means to pursue something singularly,” Shouto said against your lips. “What it means to give everything you have in service of pursuit.”

Your stomach flipped. The Todoroki single-mindedness that you had been convinced had skipped right over Shouto. Suddenly years of solemn watchfulness over you, years of following you like a shadow, years of sharing all his toys and his thoughts and promising to take care of you—it all made a terrible, perfect sort of sense.

Single-mindedness. But not as destruction, as Enji’s and Touya’s had been. As devotion—as thoughtfulness, something so uniquely Shouto you wanted to cry.

God how had you missed this?

You rallied yourself for one last defense.

“Shouto. At the very least you need to consider if you’re making a mistake. Alpha-beta couplings are nontraditional—maybe your senses are off here. Maybe because I’m a beta and I was around when your brain was still forming and you liked me then it feels like there’s something but—”

Shouto’s grip on you flexed, and suddenly his determined expression flickered, a crease forming between those perfect brows.

“Do you see me as a child still?” he asked.

You shook your head. Not since you’d seen him prowl across the Todoroki kitchen, miles of sleek muscle flexing, that perfect campfire scent fogging your brain, tall and gorgeous and unmistakably alpha. And especially not since you’d come to understand the expanse of his life—the home he’d made, the job he had, the goals he’d taken.

“Then do you… not want me?” he asked.

Your heart immediately sank, aching with the soft flicker of hurt that crept across his features.

Your hands had shot out to hold his face before you knew what you were doing.

“Shouto, of course I want you,” you found yourself saying. “Who wouldn’t want you? You are perfect. You are so kind and have always been so good. You are sweet and funny and so beautiful it hurts to look at. Of course I want you. But I don’t want to hurt you—”

“Then say yes,” Shouto insisted.

God you wanted to. You wanted to. You had been so jealous this whole week, you realized, of whoever his life mate was going to be.

The realization crashed into you like a wave, knocking you off balance. You wanted all of Shouto’s time, all of his attention, wanted to curl up in his apartment on that plush couch with him and all but bodily fuse to him, never to come apart again. You wanted to spend a million afternoons cooking in that kitchen, running lunches to him at the firehouse, kissing him, laughing with him, indulging in him—in how kind and sweet and good he’d always been.

Your face must have said it all, because Shouto was crowding back into you.

“I am going to be so good to you, Y/N,” he promised, his mouth drawing closer.

You shivered. Some part of you still felt like you needed to resist him, needed to make him see. But the other part of you, the largest part, wanted to melt in his embrace. Wanted to let him kiss you and kiss him back, wanted to thread your fingers in that fluff of hair and sink into the relief of his companionship.

Shouto hammered the final nail into your coffin with the unerring precision of a boy who’d known you for twenty years.

“Trust me to take good care of you,” he said, his voice dipping to a low whisper.

And that was it—the refrain from all those years ago, before you’d ever understood what he was promising you. Even if you were uncertain about everything else, you would always be certain about Shouto’s care. Shouto’s inherent goodness.

Surrendering, you let yourself fall.

“I do,” you told him. “I trust you. I—always will.”

Then you closed your eyes and let him kiss you.

You could feel Shouto’s soft smile against your mouth, feel a renewed intensity in the way he poured himself into you with his next kiss. You almost sagged against him in sheer relief—the relief of knowing, against all odds, that your life mate had found you even across the years that had threatened to separate you.

Shouto kissed you with a startling vigor, leaving you breathless against the willow when he moved down to your neck, pulling your tee shirt wide to suck several very insistent markings into the hollow of your throat.

You leaned into the rough bark as he mapped his way lower, and lower, only startling when he dropped to his knees before you, pressing his face into the crease of your hip.

Your heart shot into your mouth, a shock of heat licking up your spine. “Shouto!” you stammered.

Shouto only uttered your name into the fabric of your leggings, the material thin enough that you could feel the heat of his exhalation on your skin. One of his hands came up to take your calf, the other creeping up into the band of your leggings, carefully pulling it down.

You watched him as he did, stomach fluttering.

He gently helped you step out of your leggings and panties, leaving you bare and vulnerable to him. You would have been more embarrassed if it wasn’t for the way his eyelashes fluttered appreciatively, and the immediate way he ducked his head to press his mouth right to your core.

You muffled a moan into your palm, thunking your head against the tree trunk.

You could feel Shouto’s slow smile as he hefted your thigh over his shoulder, hands grasping your waist. “Mine,” you heard him utter, soft and low, before licking right over you, possessive and deliberate. It made every inch of your skin flush hot, every nerve ending come to life under his mouth.

You could still hardly believe what was happening, even as you muffled more sounds into your palm as Shouto worked you, with the attentive diligence he’d always done everything when it came to you. You could feel those mismatched eyes on you, cataloging your every reaction to what he did.

He learned all too quickly exactly what you liked, and you were a writhing mess within minutes. Shouto pinned you to the tree with an iron arm across your stomach as you arched and screamed, not letting up until you’d come against his mouth, chanting his name like an oath.

He looked very pleased with himself when you were done, his hair ruffled from your hand, face flushed.

He looked too good to be real.

“I want—Shouto, please—” you said, nearly incoherent but apparently utterly shameless now that he’d had you.

Shouto got to his feet to kiss you again and you flushed when you could taste yourself on his mouth. “Come home with me,” he murmured, tone low.

“You don’t want—?” you said.

Shouto shook his head. “Not here. I’ve imagined this a thousand times, how I wanted it to happen. I’ve thought about what you deserve. I’ve thought about how I will not want to separate, after, not even to take you back home. Come home with me first.”

Fire spread across your cheeks at the idea of Shouto imagining it with you, over and over again. The way he said home, like it was both of yours.

“Okay. Okay yes,” you said, breathless.

Shouto helped you back into your leggings and gathered up your abandoned pack, which you’d apparently dropped and forgotten entirely the moment he’d kissed you. He held your hand in his the whole way back through the woods, occasionally cocking his head or scenting the air, and then taking a long detour around some place, like he didn’t want to share your presence with whoever else was in the woods.

The walk was long, but so easy in Shouto’s company, even with this new dimension of your relationship settling itself between you two. It was frighteningly easy, in fact, after everything.

You talked about everything and nothing, reliving the entire week together, Shouto sharing that he’d hoped you’d see him as a man, had taken the time right up until the run to try to be sure. Ears flaming, you’d shared that you’d been gone for him the moment you’d seen him in the doorway of the kitchen. Shouto’s smug look immediately mopped up any of the reflexive embarrassment you felt sharing that.

By the time you made it to Shouto’s you’d also managed to shoot a text off to your mother, and an emergency extension of your time off to your workplace.

Shouto was on you as soon as the door shut behind you, catching your noise of surprise in his mouth.

Your arms came around him, and he walked you back to his couch, following you down onto it and laying himself out over you. The weight of him made you shiver again, the heaviness of all that muscle anchoring you down.

Shouto kissed you absolutely boneless into the cushions of his couch, hands wandering everywhere, skimming under your shirt, calluses catching on the fabric of your leggings. Everywhere he touched felt like it was on fire, your nerves singing with pleasure. Shouto seemed to be trying to take his time with you, but you could sense something underneath that, his usual layers of patience eroded.

Feeling brave, you let your hands wander to the buttons of his pants, working them open. Shouto’s breath left him in a hiss as you wrapped your hand around him, feeling him hard and hot and velvet smooth in your palm.

“Ah… fffuck, love,” he muttered into your neck. He chased it with the soft scrape of his teeth, groaning when it made your grip tighten on him reflexively.

His hips flexed, sliding him through your fingers, flush and full. Butterflies fluttered to life in your stomach, and a hot streak of arousal licked up your spine. Your own hips shifted, lifting up into him, and you realized with a sudden desperation that you wanted him inside you, didn’t want to wait another second.

“Shouto please, please, please,” you found yourself babbling, stroking firmly down the shaft of him.

Shouto’s eyes were dark when they found yours again. “Anything, I would give you anything,” he said, his voice tight.

“I want you inside of me, please,” you said, your face burning with the admission.

The sheer elation flashing across his handsome face quelled any more embarrassment. In what felt like barely a breath, Shouto had you bare to him once more, flinging your leggings and shirt somewhere towards his kitchen. He covered you again, fitting himself between your thighs with another appreciative groan before pressing in.

You were so wild with want that he slid home easily, despite his impressive size. His skin burned hot against yours, and he felt so perfectly right over you, inside of you, that you had to fight down something like a sob.

Shouto looked equally as overwhelmed, staring at your face rapturously. “I have loved you my whole life,” he said, his tone wondering. “You are finally mine.”

Your entire body went hot with his declaration. You had not realized until today that you loved him too. But now that you did, it felt like everything made sense, that all was finally right.

You managed to gasp out as much between Shouto’s thrusts, as his hips bucked into yours, slowly at first, and then faster, more sure. He kissed you everywhere—your face, your neck, your shoulders, layering in soft bites like he could not help himself.

“Say it,” he groaned, mouthing at the underside of your jaw. “Please say it.”

“I love you,” you said. A yelp escaped you when Shouto suddenly seized you around the waist, rolling you on top of him and holding you to him as he levered the two of you upright. The position in his lap only made him sink deeper inside of you, and you hissed with the feeling, your fingernails digging into his back.

“Ah, fuck—Shouto!” you cried.

Shouto’s hands on your waist guided you with an easy strength—your head spun with the reminder of his power, the reminder that you had an alpha—your alpha—inside of you.

“Going to take good care of you,” he panted into your hair, pausing to kiss the shell of your ear even as the snap of his hips undid you. “Going to take such good care of you.”

Your fingers flexed on him, and you could feel your toes curl. You did not know what to do with all of the emotion welling up inside you, the well of your pleasure almost overflowing. He ground up into you, making your eyes nearly roll back in your head, and you fought down a scream when the pad of his thumb pressed to your clit, heightening every sensation.

“Oh Shouto, please—” was all you could manage.

Shouto looked enraptured, drinking in every change in your expression. As you squirmed and writhed under his touch, you felt him start to swell inside of you.

Both apprehension and arousal swirled inside of you, a beta’s body a little less adapted to knotting than an omega’s. But the firm circle Shouto’s thumb was drawing on your clit, and the low murmur of his voice in your ear, began to drown out any other thought.

“I have you, love,” Shouto said. His mouth dragged across your throat, leaving a sucking bruise along the column. Your nails scrabbled at his back as he swelled even further inside of you, starting to catch on your walls and make it harder to press back down on him.

“I have you,” Shouto said again, his voice rough with pleasure. The reassurance that he did, and the knowledge that he was barely managing his own pleasure struck you like a bolt of lightning. Something inside you unraveled and came loose, and you muffled a cry into Shouto’s broad shoulder as your orgasm slammed into you like a tidal wave.

A low swear escaped Shouto, and his knot swelled even further. His hands suddenly seized tight on either side of your waist, holding you down on him as he thrust up into you. You felt a sort of pressure you’d never anticipated, so overwhelming it was nearly painful—but then Shouto’s knot slid into you.

Shouto groaned into your neck, biting down hard. You writhed over him, your pleasure wringing you out until finally you slumped against him, shivering. Shouto eased back, propping himself up on the arm of the couch, you stuck to his chest like a sweat-slicked barnacle.

“That was—so much more intense than I ever imagined,” you said, when you’d recovered your faculty for human language.

You could feel the curve of Shouto’s smile against your neck. “For I, as well,” he said. “Though I had imagined it a great many times—we still have many other fantasies I intend to live out.”

You were embarrassed to feel yourself tighten around him. Shouto hissed, leaning back to pin you with a look—then looked more smug than you’d ever seen him.

“Like that, do you, love?” he asked.

The pet name made your ears heat, and you couldn’t help but pinch him. “You used to be so sweet, when did you get this fresh?” you demanded.

“Fresh is the least of what I intend to get with you,” Shouto informed you seriously. “I take my duties as a child bride very seriously.”

Your jaw dropped open, and you pressed back from him, gasping when it shifted him inside you. “You—! You heard—?”

Shouto’s smile was far too handsome and self-satisfied to be allowed. “That is when I knew I stood a chance.”

Your face burned. You couldn’t believe him. “You’re a menace.”

Shouto leaned into a press a kiss over where he’d sunk his teeth into you, butterfly-light. The touch of his mouth was warm and his campfire scent washed over you, fuzzing your thoughts. His mouth moved up to catch yours, and you let him kiss you until you realized you’d started to squirm in his lap again.

Several minutes later he had you coming on his knot again, locked against him and muffling the sounds of your pleasure into his neck.

He looked, if possible, even more satisfied, and you lifted a hand to thread through the strands of his hair, silky and damp.

“I can’t believe this is real,” you said, several orgasms having made you loose-tongued. You rubbed a strand of his hair between the pads of your fingers.

Shouto turned his head to drop a kiss to the base of your palm. “We have time enough to make you believe it, love.”

Another butterfly took wing in your stomach at the pet name. You wondered if you’d ever get used to hearing him say it.

“I’ll have to figure out my work—I don’t know if they’d let me work remotely all the way from here?” you said, thoughts suddenly shifting. You sort of doubted your company would make the exception for you, and a pang shot through your heart at the idea that you might have to leave Shouto to work in the city on weekdays. At least until you found another job, which might take months to arrange.

You did not want to be separated from him, now that you’d let yourself have him.

A hand caught your chin, thumb smoothing along your jaw. “I do not think you will have enough time,” Shouto said, a slim brow raising slightly. “What with the bookstore opening.”

You stared at him, wondering if you’d just had some sort of auditory hallucination.

“The—what?” you asked.

“The bookstore opening,” Shouto said. His mouth made the shape of the words exactly, and so it could not be that you’d hallucinated. But—

“What bookstore?” you asked.

Shouto’s mouth pressed into a deliberately flat line like he was trying not to smile.

“Yours. Downstairs,” he clarified—which did not clarify at all.

Your mouth dropped open against his fingers, your eyebrows shooting for the moon. “My—? Downstairs—?”

Your mind scanned back over the events of the last twenty-four hours, the first time you’d caught sight of the shop downstairs again as you’d followed Shouto home. The way it seemed so well-maintained, the windows glinting crystal-clear in the soft evening light. Your eyes reflexively dipped to the blonde wood of Shouto’s floor, the very same that had been installed across the floor of the shop, and an understanding suddenly dawned on you.

“I remember everything you have ever told me,” Shouto had said when you mentioned you’d been in love with the shop downstairs.

“No way,” was what left your mouth as you glanced back up at Shouto, disbelief rising.

Shouto was watching you carefully, his handsome face serious. “Your name is on the deed.”

A wellspring of emotion rose up inside you like a geyser, and you slammed yourself back into Shouto, throwing your arms around his shoulders. “Shouto—I. You didn’t need to—there’s no way I can accept—this is incredible, you’re incredible—but I’d be taking advantage—I can’t—”

A warm, long-fingered hand slid up your spine to rest on the back of your head, holding you against him. “I have always been yours,” Shouto murmured. “Everything I have has always been yours. If it is too much now, we can wait. But I, and everything I have, will always be yours.”

You blinked, embarrassed to realize you’d started dripping tears into Shouto’s shoulder. Shouto didn’t say anything, fingers petting through your hair as you tried to fight the emotion down.

“I promised to take good care of you, and I intend to,” he said. Pressed against him, you could feel the way the words rumbled in his chest.

You closed your eyes and shoved your face in his neck, letting him hold you to him. Everything about today felt too good to be true, but you knew with absolute certainty that Shouto had always been too good to be true, himself. And yet you’d told him you trusted it, when he said he’d take care of you.

And you did—you realized you would always trust it, trust the beautiful boy you’d known all your life.

“I’ll need to pay you back on your investment,” you said some minutes later, when you finally found your voice again. You leaned back to look Shouto in the face, trying not to be embarrassed about the drying tear tracks.

“There is no need,” he said, eyes finding yours.

You realized you were still in his lap, though his knot had softened, and you thought you might be able to separate now.

But now you had other plans—and an investment you wanted to enthusiastically return.

“I insist,” you said, leaning forward to mouth at Shouto’s neck.

You caught the flash of his eyes widening, and his head fell back as a sharp breath left him. “I—see,” he said, his voice growing rough as you sucked a careful mark into the skin of his shoulder.

You smiled against his skin. “You will,” you promised, feeling bolder than ever. It felt like you were daring to believe it, that you’d found your life mate, that you really got to have him, that he’d loved you as long as he’d lived.

You wanted to return all those years of love, now that you loved him too.

“I’m going to take good care of you too,” you informed Shouto, hips already flexing over his.

You felt him start to grow hard inside of you again, and he turned his head to catch your mouth. You could feel his smile against your lips.

“I trust it,” he said, his voice dropping low.

You smiled too, grinning against your lifemate’s mouth, intent on proving yourself worthy of that trust.

Though perhaps that could wait until you’d delivered some of the many fantasies it sounded like he’d stored up. There was no reason to rush.

You had the rest of your life together, after all.

[running-with-kn1ves]

Desperation

A/N: I wrote something very similar to this with the Belsire previously but I couldn't help myself 🙏

Belsire: male equivalent to the Beldam (Coraline)

CW: kidnapping, manipulation, sewing needles

A beautiful lullaby hummed against your ear, fog-like breath both chilly and thick caressed against its shell.

You never imagined that he could sew; sure, he was keen to cook you extravagant dinners, you never saw him clean despite the crooked house always spotless, and the clothes that were put in your drawers were consistently washed-- but such delicate needlework? You didn't think the creature had it in him. His fingers seemed made for it though, long and spindly and black at the tips, they held the needle at a fine point, without having to lick the end of the thread before putting it through the eye.

"Stab the needle through the eye....wrap two knots around the tongue, and pull it out the mouth."

His low, rasped voice was unlike anything you've heard from the men in the "real" world. Its croaky demure made sound as if his vocal chords were on the brink of snapping. It was very few and far between that his voice resounded throughout the house in a thunder-like boom.

Tonight, was not one of those nights. Not unless you made an effort to wrangle out of between his stick-like forearms in the wooden chair and began yelling ungrateful spiels whilst staying in HIS house. He said it was yours-- your "other home," but since the gateway tunnel back to your original 1-bedroom apartment became nothing but sturdy drywall with a key hole, its been his. It was always his, you were just too blind to see past the beautiful illusions built for you.

"Just like that... mending is simple work."

You feel his left hand, the one once holding your torn cardigan steady, reach up to lay a cold finger beneath your chin. It rubs back and forth, relishing in the warmth of your throat, the soft flesh between your jaw and jugular.

The Belsire seemed to enjoy running his smooth, icy digits along your naked skin, brushing from side to side, up and down to dip against your collar bone. He relished your warm-bloodedness from how often he took advantage of it. It was a wild contrast to his ever-frozen, rigid body draped in fine blacks and bruised shadows.

"C-can you show me again?" You plead, hoping the end of this activity wouldn't be the finale before your demise. Each time you have one of these "bonding" sessions the Belsire encourages you to entertain him with, you anticipate it being your last.

Each day you wait and wait... wondering if he's hungry again, if it'll hurt, if you'll make one more frustrated comment away that'll make him snap and pick your bones clean.

"Again..?" He tapped thrice on your neck, a twitching habit that sent cold shocks through you. "Why don't you try it yourself this time, dear?"

The sweet, affectionate name oozing from his lips was unnatural-- and yet, perfectly normal for the creature of love seduction. How many had fallen for that same adoring title, only to find themselves now locked in his stomach?

You couldn't tell anymore what was genuine adoration, or a disturbing method at getting you to put your guard down. When he was angry with you, for hiding or attempting another escapade to get back home,  'dear' transformed to spits of "insolent one" and "maddening human", at the very least. On his worst days you were a bewitching, dimwitted little creature too stupid to be let free- better off in his hands if not crunched between his teeth.

"I'm not too sure, I might..accidentally stab myself with the needle, you know?"

You shrug in feigned helplessness, hoping your lack of enthusiasm wouldn't tick him closer to the dark side.

"If you do, then I'll lick your wound and we can start again. Give it a try, won't you? I've seen your work on my coats," he mumbles lowly at the rest of his comments, "and that damned quilt you seem keen to keep."

He muses at the mention of your skilled handiwork you sneak to do when he's gone away at "none of your concern" events. However he knew of your activities in this prison cell while he was out didn't surprise you; the house had eyes, in places you'd rather not think of.

You took the needle from within his delicate grasp, mahogany red thread swinging loose and ready to be tightly wound in your wine colored cardigan.

You copy the movements he had done a million times, though you really weren't watching when he had. It was hard to concentrate with your body shivering, waiting for a sharp dagger or set of teeth to find it's way buried in your back.

The Belsire seems to ease up as you begin to complete the torn cardigan hole, placing two abnormally long hands upon the sides of your shoulders.

"Don't move," he grumbles, almost annoyed at the idea. "Smooth and quite warm... I never understood the pleasure of keeping food around longer than it's due date. But you, little button... why, you're almost opening a soft spot inside of me.."

You didn't like the sound of that. A soft spot within him would certainly be something he sought to squash.

"Are you sure you want a soft spot? I'm not even sure where that would be."

You almost laugh at your own joke, imagining his crisp limbs deflated. If you were making a soft spot, you best keep at making it grow.

"It seems you force it in me, whether I like it or not. I enjoy having you to myself, to come home to... even if the idea that you're taking part of me, is... infuriating."

The Belsire leans deeper into you, pressing the inside of his thighs against yours, craning his neck downward.

"The unfortunate part is, I think I may fall apart if you disappear."

You see the looks he gives from the corner of your eye; dark, empty buttons staring into you, awaiting your reaction. Was this another attempt to swoon you?

"Then I guess that means you can't eat me."

You sigh, hoping he'd agree. And oddly enough, he cracks a grin.

"I guess not. Though, don't hold your breath. I can't make any promises as to what my temper will lead to." The bridge of his nose is uncharacteristically pressed against your cheek, black dots boring holes into you. "On the topic, I'd be less inclined to eat you if you accepted my present..."

You round off the last bit of stitching, only to see an all too familiar velvet box on your left. It was open, music box playing a soft melody as a range of colors and sizes in buttons were available to view.

"I... I still can't, give you an answer." You go back to tying an end to the thread, praying for the Belsire's eerily calm mood to stay uninterrupted.

He goes quiet, habitually running a thumb down the shell of your ear. The chill was almost welcoming, soft flesh touching your heated one. It felt... genuine, a form of physical affection that was done for his pleasure more than your own. It would be comforting, if you weren't waiting for him to explode.

"I expected as much," he calmly huffs, shutting the box with a single finger. Its harsh snap made you drop the thread. "But you can't expect me to wait forever; you aren't going home. You will remain here, either as my slave, or my spouse. The difference is whether I have to force these buttons on you, or you take them willingly."

"I.. I just need a little more time. I haven't-- I'm not-- done adjusting. I'm not used to this world, like you."

You've given up pleading; for all you knew, there was no way back home that either of you could conjure. This was your fate.

Like a doll he dressed and cleaned and made a perfect dollhouse for, you were to sit here and provide him the comfort he could not create on his own. Like a god, creating his creatures of free will, he relished in the uniqueness you offered without him having to fabricate it first, the obedience you gave from fear in your own desire rather than a direct command.

A long silence left the air hanging stagnant, your patchwork sitting in front of you, finished and yet not quite the same as it once was. Why couldn't you go to the store and buy a new one, spend frivolous money and speak to the miserable cashier that reminded you humanity was still alive?

"...Fine. But not much longer, my sweet button...this-- mortal flesh still tying you to your world, has kept me at a distance I do not wish to stand at." A soft kiss, from creased, inexperienced lips touched the top of your cheekbone. "I want you for myself... I don't like not getting the things I want. And, I want you far more desperately than I imagined."

His voice was stoic, gentle and logical despite the romantic lines that were fed to you. Spindly fingers pulled back pieces of your hair, caressing the skin on your face with soft strokes. Like a human would do to an animal, running his knuckles against your cheek and his fingertips along your jaw.

Just a simple touch and turn of your chin was all it took to make you look at him.

"Don't make me wait. I will have you, and I want it to be because you will it. Please, don't make me do what neither of us want."

His tongue was warmer than his touch, somehow. Maybe it led to his even warmer heart, but you doubted it. Even with the way both his large, balmy palms were gripping beside your ears, pulling your face to touch his in a dance of lips and stolen breath, you wondered if this was just another web of lies spun to create your damnation.

But the desperation in how he swallowed you whole, pulling your hands away from the touchy needlework he was once keen on making you finish-- there was something human about it all, something touchy and irritable and obsessive. If he wanted you desperately then, you could only imagine how horribly ridden he was now, feeling your warmth as he made you colder with his hands and wrists, him never changing.

You peeked an eye open, wondering if those buttons stayed all-seeing, all watching, even when you kissed.

[titaswrld]

gryffindor characters modern! AU

according to me….

description: silly modern! AU head canons of the main gryffindor characters :)

pairing: harry, ron, fred, george, ginny and hermione x reader

contains: mentions of substances, alcohol and weed. mentions sexual acts (i think…)

|an: bored and decided i’d made something a little silly. literally just my thoughts lolll don’t take this too seriously

modern AU! harry potter who…

— definitely has a flip phone and refuses to be on any form of social media bc he thinks it’s awful for you

— i think being around his friends who do have social media would give him the spiel on most things tho

— oh he loveeesss house of dragon omg

— only listens to 70s 80s 90s music and some jazz tbh

— i feel like he’s just very old fashioned and he’s happy that way

— such a loving and caring bf since he’s hardly ever even touched the internet he’s pure lol

— def a lil goofball he’d say a little slang term the twins taught him and repeat it back to you…”harry who taught you that…”

— don’t ask him to do no substances i think he’d be kinda against them..not a smoker…occasional drinker.

modern AU! ron weasley who…

— is a stoner! thru and thru. i think he’s a bong rip typa fellow but a blunt or a joint would do it too. doesn’t strike me as a cart of eddie guy.

— big female rap supporter imo…def into latto and maybe dabbles into some meg that’s his girlll lol

— definitely a twea/seltzer guy oml cannot take shots is my hc

— heavy on the lowk himbo boyfriend

— not stupid at all but not super street smart i fear, more of a book smart type of guy.

— super cute and adorable bf overall, he’s a big boy. for sure.

—armmmmssss…. gymrat imo he loves to blow off steam at the gym

—i feel like isn’t a social media person as well…has an insta but doesn’t post on it nor have a lot of followers..no tiktok maybe twitter

—luv him but he was def on drakes side of the beef…definitely a champagne papi

—kinda a video game nerd imo but he’s definitely into the sports ones like FIFA

— buys you n him the crumbl cookie lineup every week and you review them tg in the car pretending to be those tiktok crumbl reviewers😭🫶 (he’s so cute)

modern AU! hermione granger who…

— is 100% on booktok

— do not ask her about the summer i turned pretty or bridgerton unless you wanna listen to her talk for hours.

— don’t play with her and noah kahan…

—or taylor swift

— or chappell roan..

—she’ll have a cute little mixed drink or perhaps a seltzer but do not give this girl no shots she don’t want none!

— her and colleen hoover….

— brings her digital camera everywhere and is most def the camera girl friend….”hermione pls send me the pics from last night”

modern AU! ginny weasley who...

— does not play about female wnba players at all.

— don’t even mention paige bueckers…that’s her girl.

— is a party animal just like her brother.

— loves her chappell roan too.

— always on social media u cannot get this girl off her phone. she’s like an ipad kid u couldn’t rip it out of her cold head hands.

— such a good girlfriend, definitely so protective over her s/o, especially on social media.

— “ginny why’d you respond to every comment under my post complimenting me with ‘& she/he mine..so’…”

modern AU! fred weasley who…

— definitely asks u “english or spanish?”

—definitely goes to too many parties…like at a function every weekend he loves the party scene.

—treats his girl RIGHTT i would compare the relationship to don toliver and kali uchis, flowers all the time, handsy. posting/supporting his girl allll the time

—“i❤️mygf” typa fellow, all his posts on socials are her! all his stories, his highlights and his posts.

— also a weed demon, doesn’t strike me as a beer or seltzer guy but ooooo that liqah….

— dress to impress demon. his gf definitely got him to play it and he got hooked and now he’s a fashion maven.

modern AU! george weasley who…

— is every girls dream man…im talking flowers, boo baskets, burr baskets, easter baskets, omg you say the word and he’s massaging your feet and feeding you grapes.

— always posting his girl just like his brother she’s on his absolutely everything and he has a highlight for her.

— type of guy to post those tiktoks of his girl on his account appreciating her all the time and the comments are like “omg on his account too!” and it’s so cute and adorable.

—isn’t much of a party guy like his brother…will go to a few but i feel like it’s not his thing at all and he’d rather be hanging out with friends instead of at a big function with strangers.

—literally the ken to your barbie and yes he took you to see the movie and yes he got into costume with you. and he did it happily.

— always hanging out with his girlfriend and wouldn’t want it any other way.

[tqmies]

WE'RE NOT FRIENDS | K. Gyuvin

Description. Gyuvin's not jealous - he doesn't even have a reason to be. You two were just friends who fucked sometimes! But in the back of his head, he knows he yearns for more, but do you?

Not tryna talk, just tryna kiss ya'. NOT FRIENDS // LOOΠΔ

Pairing. Fwb!Gyuvin x Fem!Reader

Warnings. MDNI. Smut, Curse words, Oral, Penetration, Condom Use (Wrap it), Crying (Not in a bad way)

Word count. 4K

Note: I wanted to do something better than this but I also wanted to get it out! Inspired by my anons who loved jealous gyuvin <3

You smile as you enter the dorm, greeted immediately by Gyuvin's friends. They must've known you were coming, you giggle as you follow through the hallway, Hanbin immediately going into a spiel about something that happened at work that morning.

You nodded in understanding, "You're so strong 'Bin, I would've thrown the drink at the customers face."

He laughed as he shook his head. "I'd be jobless."

You're about to respond when you're pulled away by a chattering Matthew, "Dude I have to tell you about this new machine they added to the gym-"

"Wait wait," Jiwoong appears out of seemingly nowhere. "First I have to show you this cat I took a picture of!"

He pulls out his phone, Hanbin and Matthew growing silent as they want to see the cat as well. You gasp in adoration as Jiwoong locates the picture. "Awe! Oh my goodness, he's so fat!"

Jiwoong nods. "Exactly!"

He's about to continue when Taerae comes barreling out of his room, dimples appearing as he speaks. "I heard your voice and came running."

You scrunch your nose, teasing. "Gosh, I didn't realize you were all so excited to see me."

"You need to come around more often so we can update you normally," Hanbin offers before looking apologetic. "Instead of clamoring around you before you can even make it to the living room."

You chuckle in response. "It's okay, I don't mind."

"Hao's out, but Ricky and Gunwook just left to go get us food! What do you want? I'll text them!" Matthew interjects, already typing on his phone before you wave him off.

You grip the box in your hand. "Ah, it's okay. I'm not staying, just came by to-"

"You're not staying?!" Yujin walks up before crossing his arms, wearing a pout. The younger always knew how to guilt trip you with those puppy eyes.

"I just came to drop off something for Gyuvin." You look around, noting that indeed, as you had thought, none of the boys around you were him. Funny how the others were more excited to see you.

"Oh come on," Taerae places a hand on your shoulder. "You should stay, eat with us!"

You stand awkwardly, not sure if Gyuvin would want you to stay. He hasn't even come out of his room to greet you yet. "I don't know.."

"Please?" Yujin begs, and you always had a soft spot for the younger boy. He reminded you of a little brother who just wanted his sister to stay for dinner. How could you say no to that?

"Well," You contemplate, you really should just drop the box off and leave. You sigh in defeat though, the faces around you looking so excited at the prospect. "Okay, I'll stay."

"Yes!" Jiwoong smiles, as the others look visibly happy as well. They were always so kind to you, and you were always glad Gyuvin's friends took a liking to you.

Oh, right. Gyuvin.

"I'll be right back, okay?" You say, making your way through to the point of the visit's room. You knock softly on his door, knowing it was just him alone in there, but also not wanting to disturb him if he was busy.

He opens the door, eyes immediately shifting to the box. He reaches it for it, "Thanks-"

You pull it back towards you. "Hey, how are you? Oh me? I'm doing just fine, thanks for asking! I did just drive all the way here to bring you this package that you ordered to my house so that way your roommates wouldn't get into it! Oh wow, thanks for the favor, I appreciate it so much that I'll even come greet you by the door when you get here."

He waits for you to finish your rendition as he looks down, your little mocking speech leaving him unamused. "You had plenty of people to greet you at the door."

You narrow your eyes, shoving the box into his hand in annoyance. "That's not the point, I came to see you."

Gyuvin just stares before he opens his mouth to speak but he's quickly interrupted by Matthew entering the hallway. "Food's here!"

You don't move, standing as you wait for Gyuvin to say something, anything. But he just gestures behind you before repeating, "Food's here."

You turn in disappointment, you don't know what you wanted him to say. But it definitely wasn't that.

You join the others at the dining table as they scoot over to make room for you. Seeing as one of them is missing, there's just the right amount of chairs.

Normally, you'd sit wherever there was room, but Ricky was quick to greet you and offer you the seat next to his. He pats the chair, "This one's open."

That's bullshit, Gyuvin notes. There were several other chairs that were open because not everyone was sitting yet. Like himself, who was waiting for you to sit so he could sit next to you.

That dream slowly dies in front of him as Jiwoong takes the seat to the other side of you, having to strangle off Hanbin for it. He shows you something on his phone that has you smiling brightly.

And for some twisted reason that he can't exactly explain.

Gyuvin hates it.

It's the same feeling he felt deep in the pit of his stomach earlier. He came out of his room right away to see you, but was stopped in his tracks when he saw the others hovering over you.

You seemed to forgotten who you had even come to see, so he sulked his way back to his room, unable to pinpoint what exactly it was that he was feeling.

Ricky, being the little shit he was, would call it jealously every time he would spill about his feelings —He only resorted to consulting him after Jiwoong suggested it was indigestion— but Gyuvin disagrees.

Why would he even be jealous? You two were just friends!

Friends who regularly fogged up his car windows from the backseat in an empty parking lot when he needed to clear his mind.

Friends who would often grind on each other in the dark of his room, his computer screen the only source of light in the late hours of the night.

Friends who were on their knees for each other when the other was stressed, because that's what friends are for, right?

But the word remained. Friends.

Even if he wanted to be jealous, he couldn't be, he had no right. You two weren't anything, he doesn't even think you like him like that.

But he thinks that if he has to watch Matthew wink at you one more time, he's going to slam his head against this table. But he's not jealous! Right... It was fine, everything was fine.

"Hao's gonna be upset he missed you, he's learning that one classical song you like on violin." Hanbin speaks up before leaning onto his hand. "What was the name? I can't remember"

Ricky vaguely recalls. "The one from Howl's Moving Castle?"

"Oh my gosh, he's learning Merry Go Round of Life?" You light up in your seat, clearly impressed. You forgot you had mentioned your love for the classical piece to them before.

Gyuvin can feel himself growing bitter, since when did you like that movie? Or that song? And why did he feel so left out right now? And even worse, why was Hao learning it for you? That felt so.. romantic.

"I've never seen that movie." Gunwook innocently comments as he places his chopsticks down.

"Me either." Taerae sighs as an idea pops into your head.

"Oh they're having a special showing of it at the theater next week for it's anniversary! I wanted to go but I didn't think anyone would wanna come with." You pout before raising a brow. "Unless you guys wanna go?"

The two are quick to nod and it's not long before the others pile on and ask if they can tag along too. Gyuvin's pissed, why didn't you just ask him? Of course he would've went to the movie with you. He didn't care what you two did, he just liked spending time together.

Truth be told, you were going to ask Gyuvin. He was your first option, seeing as he's your best friend, but since he was acting weird, maybe it'd be best to hang out with some of the other guys. What was his deal anyways?

Ricky breaks you from your thoughts. "Oh I saw this necklace the other day with your birthstone, but I wanted to ask you before I bought it."

Gyuvin is seething.

"Ricky," You smile as you place your drink down, eyes never leaving his. You were well aware of his habit of dropping money on his friends. That necklace was definitely way out of your price range. "You don't need to buy me anything."

"I want to, it was pretty." He grins, awaiting Gyuvins reaction in his prerifrial vision.

You quirk your head to the side. "I'm sure it was."

"Just like you." Ricky continues as he sees his friend gritting his teeth in the seat across from him. Ricky knew what he was doing, but he was tired of seeing you two run around in circles with each other. He just wanted to just nudge you two in the right direction, or so help him.

Now, Gyuvin could handle everything else. The other boys were just being friendly, he knows they meant well. But his notably attractive supposed best friend directly flirting with you in front of him?

Yeah, that was a no go.

Everyone else at the table grew quiet, knowing Ricky was treading into dangerous territory. Sure, they were a little overbearing at times but even they knew of the unspoken rules pertaining to you. It was known that you were off-limits, a rule set specifically by Gyuvin.

Your face heats up slightly as you stammer for a response, "O-oh.. well.. I think.."

Gyuvin stands, making a commotion as he does so, the noise of his chair scraping the ground enough to call everyone's attention. He turns to you, "Can I talk to you outside?"

You look to Ricky and then back to Gyuvin, unsure of what you should do. But you ultimately know better, "Yeah."

You follow Gyuvin to the balcony, him shutting the curtains away from the prying eyes of his friends as he slid the door closed, at least he knows they can't hear him out here.

He holds the railing, pretending to be entertained as he watches the cars below pass. He doesn't know what to say.

You shift on your feet, waiting for him to speak. You knew when your friend was angry, you just didn't know why.

"Did I do something?" You break the silence.

Gyuvin can't hold it in anymore, he changes the subject. "What are we?"

Your brows furrow as you look taken aback. "What are you talking about? You say it all the time, we're friends."

His lips press into a thin line before he admits, "I don't think friends get jealous over their friend like I do."

"What?" You lean closer. "Jealous?"

"Yes," He maintains, like it was the simplest thing in the world. "I'm jealous seeing the boys crowd around you! Or Jiwoong taking all your attention with some stupid pictures on his phone! Or Hao being able to play your favorite song for you!"

You look down. "Gyuvin-"

"Please just listen," He breathes in, afraid of what you might say. "I did walk out to greet you today, but you looked so busy with them that I felt like you didn't even notice me missing."

You lay your hand over his, encompassing it as he holds the railing. "You know what I was thinking the entire time they were talking to me?"

He shakes his head, willing his hands not to tremble under your touch. "What?"

"I was wondering where you were." You reveal, averting your eyes. "You're my best friend Gyuvin, I'll always look for you."

There it is, that ugly feeling in his stomach again.

"And that's all I'll ever be?"

You're shocked. "What're you trying to say?"

He cuts you off from asking anything further as he blurts out information he hadn't even had time to process yet. "I think I like you."

You stand straighter, still unable to look him in the eye. "You do?"

"I don't want you to go to the movies with Taerae or Gunwook, I want you to go with me! I should be the one buying you gifts, not Ricky!" He raises his voice a little in frustration as he recalls earlier.

The immediate clarity washes over him as he realizes he's out of line. "I'm so stupid, I'm sorry. I know we're not exclusive and I have no right-"

You cut him off from his ramblings with a kiss, lips crashing into each other with an all too familiar feeling. Except this time, it's not just lust taking over, it's something different. And you don't want it to stop.

You run your hands through his hair and pull him closer, if that's even possible, and deepen the kiss. Gyuvin's beyond surprised because if there was one thing you didn't do — it was kiss.

He can recall all the times you would be fumbling with his shirt as you tried to pull it off, and he would try to catch your lips in his, only for you to abruptly pull back and refuse. Friends don't kiss, you had said.

He really hoped this meant what he thought it did.

You gently release him from the kiss, cheeks flushed as you point inside. "Not here, let's go to your room."

"We can't go inside, everyone will hear." He reminds you before teasing. "And you're never very quiet."

You roll your eyes as you snark, "Yeah well you aren't exactly a silent mouse either."

He laughs under his breath before it dawns on him. "My car?"

You snap your head towards him as you look unconvinced. He's about to suggest something else when you grab his hand while shrugging. "Your car it is."

You drag him inside, running past a table of prying and confusing eyes, who's calls for your names you ignore, and yank his keys off the hook. You two bolt out the front door, and could the elevator be any slower?

Finally, you reach his car and climb into the backseat.

You immediately pull him onto you, wanting to kiss him until you couldn't breathe anymore. He was making you dizzy, you needed him more than ever.

He felt the exact same way, revealing in you as he was content on just kissing. His body betrays him though, your clothed cunt laid directly beneath his dick now, and suddenly he's grinding with such vigor despite the fact that you had only just began.

You break the kiss before you whisper, “Do you have a condom?”

His eyes widen, "Y-yeah, in the center console."

You wait as he just stares at you, you'd be lying if you said it wasn't a little awkward. "Well I'm a little stuck here so-"

He snaps into it before digging through and retrieving one. "Right! Right.."

You smile a little at his antics, you were horribly whipped. Though he doesn't take his pants off immediately, instead opting to pocket the condom. He fumbles with his hands a little nervously, "Do you think I can eat you out first?"

"What?" You stammer. Sure, he had done it many times before, but he never been this nervous. There's something so whiny in his tone, like he needs it more than you do. So you oblige, "Alright."

He lights up at that. "Lean back."

You had never been eaten out this way before, usually Gyuvin was grabbing you to sit on his face, to which usually ended up in you teasing and grinding on it. 

But he has no qualms about it, as he dives right into laying his tongue against your heat. He teases for a bit, running it over your clit before you buck up your hips in protest. “Please Gyuvin, just make me feel good, no one can like you.” 

His pupils blow wide. "Fuck, yes baby."

Then he gets to work, tongue entering you as you swear you start to see stars. He doesn't let up, burying his face between your legs as he holds them down on either side of the small car seats.

He's leaving marks on your thighs from how hard he grips them as leverage. He's swirling his tongue around your swollen nub, taking in the taste of you.

You gasp out in pleasure, hips slightly bucking but your strength is nothing against Gyuvins. You're lost in pleasure, but you miss him though, you want to see your pretty boys face. You want him to kiss you again.

"Feels so good," You moan out, tears pricking your eyes.

"You taste even better." He mumbles against your clit. "Love that I get to have you like this, who is this for? Please just say it's for me."

You nod, before remembering he can't see you. "You! Haah- only you!"

He speeds up, slurping you with determination you had never seen before. You grab around, unable to really see due to teary eyes, and attempt to pull at his hair. "Wait, wait."

He lifts his head up, "What happened?"

"I-I wanna.. see you," You babble, "Wanna see you, Gyuvin."

His heart thumps at that, you wanted to look at him? He crawls towards your face as he pulls you into another sloppy kiss, mouths sliding in motion as you can taste yourself on him.

You can also feel his dick poking at your leg, begging to be freed from its constraints. So you lean your hand down and press on it, while he lets out a strained, "Oh - shit - feels so good."

He trembles at your touch, unconsciously bucking his hips into your leg. You tap him, "Can you take your pants off?"

He nods, almost humorous in the way he throws his bottoms off. You sit up as he does too, and push him back against the seat. He still has his underwear on, so you draw your finger around the waistband of it.

You rub him through the material, watching as his face contorts in pleasure and he lets out stagnant whines. He wants more, but above all, he wants to be good for you. "Please touch me, please use me."

You can't believe the words coming out of his mouth. Gyuvin was always more leaning on the soft dominant side, never had he begged for you like this so shamelessly.

He doesn't stop there, even after you slide your hand below. "I want you to fuck me so badly, I can be good for you! You won't need anyone but me- fuck - agh!"

You graze the tip with your thumb before you start pumping him slowly, his plush lips parting as he moans. You can feel your wetness gathering even more simply at the noises he lets out, and you know you need him just as bad as he needs you.

"You look so good like this," You admit, wanting to tease him a little. "So cute with my hand wrapped around your swollen fat dick."

"Please, don't talk like that," His face flushes as he whines at your vulgar choice of words.

"Why not?" You play innocent, fluttering your eyelashes.

He turns away in an attempt to hide his face, but you still hear what he says loud and clear. "I don't want to cum in my pants."

You smile, quirking your head the side. "What if I want you to?"

"Then I wouldn't be able to fuck you," He mumbles as he bites his lip, though he looks like he'd give into your wish if you kept asking.

You perk up at his eagerness. "So I can't put your dick in my mouth?"

His eyes widen in protest, "N-No!"

"Shh," You speak as you lean into his ear, hand still moving as you suppress a giggle at him getting so worked up. "Where's the condom?"

He stiffs up at that, looking around for his pants as you remove your hand. He hurriedly rips open the package once he pulls it out of his discarded jean's pockets, and fumbles with his hands as he slides it on.

You move to lay down on the seats, Gyuvin craning his neck as he hovers over you. His length prodding at your entrance before you knew it. His tip running over your folds in hesitance.

It was far from the first time you've both done this, but he felt ten times more nervous than he ever has. And maybe a bit more appreciative. He winces, "I can't believe I get to fuck you."

You look him in the eye, finding his statement a little amusing. "What?"

"You're just so pretty," He mutters, and he avoids your eyes. "I always get scared that one day you'll decide you think one my friends is hotter, and just decide to stop talking to me."

Your face turns soft as his sudden vulnerability, even if he was about to rearrange your guts. "Trust me, that never would've happened."

"Really?"

"I kissed you back there because I like you Gyuvin." You confirm, the moment feeling so warm despite your lack of clothes. "I never thought I'd be with anyone but you."

He doesn't respond as he slowly slides into you, trying his best not to rut into you. He was holding back a lot tonight, he wanted to show you how much he cared. You couldn't help but feel this was romantic as well, even if it was inside a cramped car.

His eyes can't help but drift down, watching as your walls sucked him in perfectly. He lets out a soft, shattered gasp as you clench him when he finally bottoms out. "Mmm, you always take me so well."

You cry out a little before slurring out his name like a mantra. "Gyuvin, move, please move, fuck - I need you to move."

He moves back a little before he thrusts into you, hands intertwining with yours as he starts to pound into you faster. You weep, lost in pleasure as his tip kisses your g-spot repeatedly.

He can't help but let his emotions in again, "I hate how they look at you. Want to tell them you're all mine but-"

"I'm yours!" You gasp, squeezing his hand as it becomes too much. He's fucking you so deep that you can feel him in your stomach, and you're sure the bulge is visible.

He stops in his tracks, and you're scared you said something wrong. Before you voice it, he cuts you off. "Say it again."

You breathe, confused almost before you realize. You look him in the eyes as you repeat it. "I'm yours."

"Shit," His face flushes as he looks down. "I just came."

"From that?!" You raise your brows, this was unlike him. Never has he came this fast, and the embarrassment was about to settle in.

You're so in love, you don't even care. "Well-"

You're unable to say anything else as he thrusts back into you, catching you off guard. He trembling as he continues, "W-want you to-"

You shake your head, unable to fathom how he's even still hard. His stutter tells you he's sensitive though. "I don't need to."

"But I need it," He whispers lowly. "Need you to cream on my cock."

You can barely process his words as you grab his hand in yours, "Show me how bad you need it."

Gyuvin almost dies from shock. He feels he must've died already with how you treat him so heavenly. So he doesn't stop, pushing himself to the point over overstimulation as he shakes. Nothing you say could stop him now, he was too far gone into you.

"Can't believe you decided to choose me," He rambles as your bodies meld together. "I don't deserve it."

You feel yourself start to tear up, unsure if its from your feelings or from the intense pounding you're getting. Your eyes well up nonetheless, "I'd choose you every time."

He cranes his head into the crook of your neck as his pace never falters, sighing as he kisses away your tears. "As your friend?"

You borderline laugh, sniffling as you do. "Don't be stupid, I don't think we were ever just friends."

He thrusts into you one final time before you're crying out from pleasure, your orgasm running over you. You intertwine your hand with his as you pull him closer. He whispers you through it, telling you an endless string of I-love-you's with baited breath.

Yeah, you two were not friends.

[the-modern-typewriter]

Hello! I love your writing so much! It always gives me such a good chill and I absolutely adore the way the words all flow together! May I request a hero trying to escape from a villain and when the villain finally catches them there's a bit where they lift the hero's chin with a sword?

"Ah, good," the villain drawled. "You managed to apprehend our little runaway."

The hero grunted in pain, as the guards threw them down onto their knees. Their gaze darted around the room - a war room of maps and schemes too high up on the table for them to see properly, the dulled silver of the guards uniforms, and the perfectly polished leather boots standing not far ahead of them.

"Though not," the villain said, "without a little bloodshed, I see? Take yourself to the infirmary tent. I can handle him from here."

The hero's jaw clenched. They kept their head bowed, doing their best to keep their face obscured.

"My lord," the guard said.

As the room emptied, the hero tested the tightness of the ropes binding their wrists and ankles. They strained for the knots. No good. Before they could even start to rise, the villain had drawn their sword with a soft shick and pressed it to the hero's throat in one swift move.

"Suddenly shy?" the villain asked. "I was expecting spitted defiance and glares. Maybe some elegant spiel at what a monster I am and how I will never get away with this."

The hero said nothing.

The villain hummed, using the tip of the blade to tilt the hero's head up.

The hero braced themselves as their gazes met.

The villain froze.

The hero's lip curled; a smile most mocking.

"Guards!" the villain yelled.

The guards returned immediately from outside, even as the villain's attention stayed locked on the hero's face.

"Would you like to tell me," the villain's voice was silken, dangerous, "why you've captured the wrong person?"

"I - my lord?"

"This is not the prince. Do you not know your own prince?" the villain asked.

"But they - they wielded the royal blade, my lord - they -"

Power, dark and ominous, ripped through the room like a thousand shadowy swords appearing in the air.

The guards fell silent.

"Fooled ya," the hero rasped. "Sucker."

"Go to where you found them," the villain ordered. "The prince can't have got far-"

The guards stayed silent. They didn't move. The smile on the hero's lips grew a little more.

"What?" the villain snapped.

"They put up - that is - the fight and the chase went on for some time, my lord." The head guard sounded strained. "Any of their tracks would have been destroyed by our own. The prince is long gone, my lord."

The power struck in an instant.

The lead guard dropped, dripping blood from a thousand blade cuts. The hero managed not to flinch. Somehow.

"Would somebody like to try that again?" the villain asked.

"We'll find him, my lord," another guard said, pasty with sweat. "We'll go and look now."

Most of the guards left, on that hopeless errand. Someone dragged the head guard's body out. His blood was already beginning to turn inky.

The hero felt light-headed with a mixture of triumph and terror, as they eyed the villain over the hilt of their sword. The villain studied them in turn.

The running, after all, had been genuine. Escape had always been the plan. Still. They supposed the ruse had fulfilled its purpose either way, just so long as no one was stupid enough to come back for them.

"Who are you?" the villain demanded.

The hero shrugged.

The villain pressed the blade in a little harder. "Who. Are. you."

"I'm your tailor's assistant."

"...excuse me?"

"I help mend your clothes and the clothes of your soldiers," the hero said. "Thrilling, isn't it?"

The villain stared at the hero like they thought they might be joking. They weren't.

"You were skilled enough with a blade to fool my highest ranking officers."

The hero shrugged again.

The villain used the blade to tilt the hero's head the other way. "You really do look remarkably similar to the prince, on first glance."

"Bet you regret killing your own men in a strop now."

The villain draw the blade down again, opening the smallest wound. Blood pooled in the hero's collar bone, shimmering a faint, barely there silver.

"You're one of the king's bastards," the villain said.

The hero resisted the urge to swallow.

The villain's eyes narrowed, liquid shadow, as they seemed to consider their options, before a truly terrible smile flashed across their face. Charming. Beguiling.

They looked up at their guards.

"Take our little runaway to my quarters. Do make sure that they're secure this time, won't you?"

They definitely should have ran faster.

[bluesidez]

Hi I saw your req open and I flew here ehe-

Hear me out please 😭

Miguel is a geneticist (someone who works around denetics) and sometimes he doesn't understand the programs that he 'made' and Lyla has to help him. That makes Peter B. and the spider-teens very suspicious of him.

What's even more suspicious is that once a month he leaves the Spider HQ to who-knows-where.

After some stalking investigating, they find out that every time that he leaves; he goes to a park to meet [Reader], that is the one who helped with all the tech he has at HQ.

When he returns the next day, he is confronted about it and explains that [Reader] is an old friend and he trusts them with the Multiverse secret. However Peter B. and the others obviously saw the mutual attraction between both of them so they help out Miguel confess to [Reader].

Fluff + a little suggestive with Gn Reader please ^^

Anyway drink lots of water and keep yourself healthy!! ❤❤

[Undercover Lover]

lab tester: @hikaru-sama 🩻

pairing: Miguel O’Hara x gn!Reader

summary: Miguel is willing to stop the world for you, you just want to be the small part of his world that makes it better.

content warning: fluff, longing from reader and Miguel, the spider-teens are all menaces (as in they all have chismosavirus), Peter is Peter, a little suggestive but nothing crazy, I also made Miguel’s relationship with the teens pretty adorable (Papa Miggy 🥺)

word count: 5.8k, halfway proofread (don't ask...)

a/n: This request is not outlandish in any way, btw. It's very cute! I hope you don’t mind that I added a little extra to the programming aspect. THANK YOU TO THE MIGGY SERVER FOR YOUR HELP AS ALWAYS! I have been wallowing in the chats for who knows how long. I thought it would be cute and funny. Also, I've been doing better with my water intake! I hope you're proud. 🥺

Miguel blew out a tired breath, eyes blurry after staring at the same set of files all day.

“Lyla, could you replay the scan from this morning?”

“I don’t know, can I?”

Miguel frowned as his eyes panned to the flickering yellow glow, “Are we doing this right now?”

“Doing what?” Lyla posed with her head tilted in her hand.

“Lyla. Replay the scan from Earth 450-”

“Here’s what I found on scams on 4chan.”

“I said scans not scams- what are you talking about? And what is 4chan?”

Lyla switched to a pose that mimicked The Thinker, her heart-shaped glasses morphing into ones made of stone.

Miguel shifted his weight to one side, hands on his hips as he watched Lyla float around his desk.

“Pull up the LYrate Lifeform Approximation code.”

Lyla snickers, glasses shifting to match the marks of a clown’s face, “You don’t know how to work that, buddy.”

“I didn’t ask you to tell me that, I asked you to-”

Lyla opens the file before he can finish his spiel.

“Now, what?” Lyla whispers with glee. “Gonna hack into the motherboard? Break down the firewall?”

Miguel ignored her and read through the constant formulas, coding that he's never even seen before becoming longer and longer.

Lyla popped up right in his peripheral view, pulling out one of the smaller codes to highlight, “What’s this one mean?”

Miguel squints at the line, “Something about how you respond to tone?”

“It’s my hair color,” Lyla’s voice is high and giggly like she was anticipating his completely wrong answers. “What about this one?”

“I, I don’t know. Your jacket?”

“Voice modulator,” the code danced around him as Lyla switched her voice to something of an old Hollywood star. “You’re not very good at this, tuts.”

Miguel felt a strange chill as Lyla walked around with a long white dress instead of a jacket and her brown hair in curls falling down her back. She laughed at him some more as she pulled her now, thick-rimmed triangle-shaped sunglasses to the top of her head.

“Lyla-”

Miguel’s watch jolted, a notification blaring at him. He answered with haste, mind frantic.

“Miguel? Is something up with Lyla, because I asked her to find this Mysterio’s dimension, and she started playing some wrestler’s theme song instead,” Jess huffed, throwing the villain's body over the back of her motorcycle. “Now, he won’t stop singing it.”

Miguel felt his head start to pound, “Something’s going on with her. She’s not functioning at her normal state.”

“You’re never functioning at a normal state,” Lyla sighed dramatically, arm over her head with wind blowing around her. “Always so tense!”

“Oh my god?” Jess’s eyes went wide as she took in the Lyla at Miguel’s side. “Why does she sound like that?”

“I’m not sure, but I’m shutting her down until I can fix it. Just send the Mysterio back here.”

“You can’t turn me off, Miggy! Don’t you want me to sing for you?”

“Yeah, hurry up and log her off. She’s freaking me out.” Jess ended the call with a disgusted face.

With her gone, the room was filled with Miguel’s thoughts and Lyla humming and brushing her hair in a vintage mirror, something she would have never cared to do on a regular day.

Looking at the lines of coding in front of him, there was no way he was going to find what was happening.

He reached across his desk to a new screen, searching for a certain folder. Miguel laughed to himself as he read the title.

Don’t open unless it’s ABSOLUTELY crucial to your health…and well-being. .3.

Miguel would consider this a crisis.

He tapped the folder, watching as a sprout of several different colors surrounded him. He shifted it through the lights, some of them being pictures of you and him, some of them being animated GIFs of cats, and others being helpful guides to small technological problems. He kept searching until he found a yellow tab that read “LYLA? LIGHTS OUT!”

With one click, Lyla went from twirling and singing in heels to being dormant, gone to the Spider Society. Letting out the breath he was holding, he shifted the files back into the folder and geared up to make the announcement.

“Attention Spiders,” Miguel held his watch up to his mouth. “Lyla will be down for maintenance for a couple of hours.”

He could hear the collective groan from the society all the way in his office.

“And I will try my best to get her up and running for future missions. Until then, please send any anomalies directly to Margo and stick to local crimes as well as protecting your respective neighborhoods.”

As soon as he ended the announcement, Margo was flooding his watch with back-to-back memes. Miguel remained confused watching a little girl in a cowboy hat complain to her grandpa while he dismissed her.

“I can send someone else down there to help you.”

“no because if anyone breaks my tech, it’s coming out of YOUR 🫵🏾 paycheck”

“Everything comes out of my paycheck.”

“whatever dad”

“?”

Perturbed, but not wanting to waste any more time, Miguel locked his office and called your number.

Two rings and you were picking up the phone.

“Hey, Spider-ider!”

“Hi,” Miguel refused to admit how the nickname sounded cute coming from you. “I need your help with something.”

“No ‘How are you?’ or ‘Sorry I haven’t checked on you in forever.’ Just straight to business, huh?”

“Sorry,” Miguel collected himself. “How are things? Did you manage to get the job with that tech company?”

“Why, thank you for asking, Miguel! I’m pretty good. Things are different! I did end up getting that job, but the manager is eerily creepy, so I’m trying my best to pile up the meanest HR case or try to wiggle my way into a new department. So far, the former is slowly but surely working, not sure if my sanity can take much more. How are you?”

Miguel's eyebrows shifted a bit, “You know you can just call for my help if anything goes wrong, right?”

“Miguel, you’re protecting so many people. More than I can even fathom, actually. I’m not going to ask you to stop to check on me.”

You should. He’d drop everything.

“It wouldn’t take much from my end, I could just-”

“Miguel.”

He bit his cheek, knowing you wanted to move the conversation along.

“How are you?” you asked again, tone back to normal.

“I’m neutral. Same thing as always. Now, it’s just that Lyla was really unbearable today.”

“Unbearable how?”

Miguel went into every detail, pulling in some last-minute reports from other Spiders that managed to use her before he shut her down.

“So you’re telling me she glitched out, wore an alligator head, and integrated ‘Flat Fuck Friday’ into every conversation?”

“Well, that was just one of the many cases. Is that, is that all you heard?”

“No, I got it,” you fixed your face to try and hold back your laugh. “It sounds like she hit her funny bone.”

Miguel looked up at the ceiling and back at you, “This is serious.”

“And I’m being as serious as I can be!”

“She’s causing all of this trouble because of a funny bone.”

You laugh at Miguel’s deadpan tone, “Ok, so technically it’s called a laughing virus. It’s been hitting a lot of major search engines for some reason, but Lyla is the closest to human-like AI there is, so it’s a funny bone!”

“As stupid as that is, I need your help to come fix it.”

“Aw, you need me to come check your work?”

Miguel avoided your gaze, “There is no work. I couldn’t tell one line from the next.”

“But Miguel, you were doing so good last time. What happened?”

“I-I don’t know, I thought I had one right but I mixed up tones with shades.”

“That’s still on the same playing field, so you got something right! That’s good progress, Miguel.”

“Mm.”

“I’ll be there soon. Don’t do anything crazy, although you’ll probably just loom over the desk dramatically.”

Miguel opened his mouth to rebuttal but you already ended the call with a laugh.

With truly nothing but his thoughts, he hurried to clean his space. There were a few loose wires and an empty box from the cafeteria scattered around.

By the time you were tapping the code into his office door, his platform was back on the ground and he’d just swept up some dust that managed to build in the corner of the room.

“Don’t clean up now just because I’m here,” you watched as his shoulders jumped a bit at your voice.

“I’m not,” Miguel huffs and sets the broom against the wall.

“Sure.”

Miguel comes closer to you with his hands on his hips.

You were probably the main reason that Lyla was the way she was, sarcastic and immature.

The only difference was Miguel could mute Lyla or switch modes for some peace. For you? It was non-stop. The only way he knew how to get you to stop was a method that’s been crowding his dreams ever since he met you.

He saw your lips moving at a mile per minute, but nothing was really reaching his ears.

They looked so soft, so perfect. He wondered if he should just let the society function on its own for just a few more hours.

“Miguel!” You waved your hands in front of him. “Lyla being down has really stressed you out, huh? You’re unfocused.”

He cleared his throat, “I still have a lot of work to do.”

“Well, let’s get to it!”

Miguel moved so you could walk to his desk, heart racing.

Whatever it was you were about to try to teach him wasn’t going to stick. He just knew it.

“Hey, Miguel! You know, I was wondering if we could implement some type of spider-baby daycare? MJ is pretty busy these days,” Peter strided into Miguel’s office with a wiggly Mayday strapped to his chest.

The platform was down, but the serious figure was nowhere to be found.

“Miguel?”

Peter tried to feel him out, but there’s no way anyone could miss Miguel in plain sight.

“Hm,” Peter put two fingers out for Mayday grab. She squealed glee, taking one finger to chew on. “If I were a Miguel, where would I be?”

He pondered through the halls, eventually finding himself at the entrance of the cafeteria. Mayday looked up almost as if she was disappointed.

“I need fuel to think!”

Peter ran down the line grabbing his usual: a 2099 burger, a large fry, and a medium cola, he’s dieting!

At the end of the line, a familiar voice called his name.

“Hey, kiddo! How’s it going?” Peter made his way to the table occupied by the younger spider crew.

Miles squinted at him, “Not a kid, but it’s going good! Have you seen Miguel? He was supposed to be training me an hour ago, but he’s not answering his watch.”

“Funny that you say that,” Peter stuffed his mouth with a handful of fries. “Went to his office and he wasn’t there.”

“What is with him and disappearing lately? It’s not like him,” Gwen mumbled. “I was supposed to report to him not too long ago and he wasn’t here.”

“Time is an enigma,” Hobie was tuning his guitar. “Glad he’s finally taking advantage of it instead of chatting about doomsday.”

“True, but he missed part of the big party we planned three months ago, too,” Pavitr supplied.

The table stopped and stared at Pav with various deadpan looks.

“What? He promised he’d try my special dish! He never breaks our promises.”

“He did pile a load of work on me when Lyla broke. Usually, he would come down and help me, but he said he was busy fixing her,” Margo turned to Peter.

The table sat and pondered for just a second then the teens started spouting out nonsense.

“He’s retiring!”

“He’s going to give HQ up.”

“He’s not going to another universe again, right?”

“He’s finally taking breaks.”

“He’s dying!”

Again, the table stopped to look at Pavitr.

“False alarm?”

“Look,” Peter held his hands up. “I don’t think it’s any of that.”

“What makes you so sure?” Gwen sounded nervous.

“Uh, he would tell me!”

Miles snickered at that which caused Mayday to fall into a fit of laughter.

“What? He’s told me things before. We’re buddies!”

“And where is your so-called buddy right now?” Margo folded her arms.

“Touche,” Peter took a giant slurp of his drink, cupping a hand under it to make sure nothing dripped on Mayday’s head. “But don’t you have a way to find him?”

“The Grumpy GPS? Yeah, but I’ve never used it because he’s always here,” Margo sighs.

“How about the next time he disappears, you let us know?” Gwen suggested.

“Love it,” Hobie fist bumps Gwen.

Miles scratched his neck, “I don’t know if this is a good idea.”

“Says the guy that snuck into the Spider Society,” Pavitr shook his head.

“That’s different.”

“Is it?” Gwen raised her eyebrow. “Margo is on Miguel-duty. We’re going to get to the bottom of this, right guys?”

Everyone nodded their head in determination.

Peter smiled. He’s still got this mentor thing down!

Margo was down near the Go-Home-Machine running Style Savvy through an emulator.

“That is so ugly,” she sang as she watched another contestant’s outfit go down the runway.

Her judging was interrupted by a dancing cartoon spider with bushy eyebrows.

She paused the game and stretched her arms to the other side of the room to give everyone a call, “Mission ‘Where is the Old Man?’ is up and running. The Grumpy GPS has been added to you guys’ gizmos. I’ve got everything ready to hack.”

“It sounds like we’re doing a lot more than tracking,” Hobie mumbled.

“But what if he actually is dying?” Gwen was lacing up her ballet shoes tight. “He would tell us, right?”

“Oh, but when I said that, it sounded crazy,” Pavitr pulled his mask down. “The double standards are appalling.”

“He could be just avoiding us. Can’t say it hasn’t happened before,” Miles’ voice was low and testy.

“He wasn’t avoiding you, Miles, he was just…projecting,” Gwen said matter-of-factly.

“Are we back on this? Sending the entire society after me is projecting. Missing our training sessions that he set up multiple times? That’s just foul.”

Gwen and Miles went back and forth, fussing over little things.

“They’re bickering again. How cute,” Pavitr stage-whispered.

“1 mission on Miles winning?” Hobie asked.

Pavitr thought for a second, “Deal.”

“You’ll probably be the most upset if he really is sick,” Gwen comments.

“Says who? I’m not worried,” Miles zipped up his jacket halfway.

“Then why are you bouncing around like that, Miles.”

Hobie sighed while Pavitr cheered.

“If you guys are done, Miguel’s moving on foot heading down 5th. I pinned a checkpoint,” Margo sent the coordinates to their watches.

“Time to go see if big man’s a killer,” Hobie yawned. “Or not.”

Peter felt the ground shake under him, hair rising on the back of his neck. His senses were screaming at him to turn around.

The thing is, if he turned around, he'd lose track on Miguel who was currently inside of the very building he was standing on top of.

The shaking grew, pebbles and vent plates rattling around him, then everything fell back into place.

One, two, thre, four pairs of feet hit the ground.

“Where’s Margo?” Peter asked, eyes not leaving the ground under him.

“In our ears singing,” Gwen groaned. “Where’s Mayday?”

“Enjoying a lovely Mommy-Daughter date with MJ and her girlfriends. Glad to have you all join me.”

“How’d you know he was going to be here?” Hobie crossed his arms.

“Like I said, buddies!”

“You waited outside of his office, didn’t you?” Pavitr pointed his finger at Peter.

Peter turned around with an offended face, “Details-schmetails!”

“Well, do you have any idea what he’s up to now?” Gwen put a hand on her hip.

“Well, we’re on the roof of an apartment, super expensive might I add, and I’m assuming his apartment is here. So maybe he’s just getting a nap in.”

“He’s on the move,” Margo’s voice buzzed through all of the teens' ears and they ran to the edge of the building, practically pushing Peter to the side.

“He’s wearing normal clothes for once,” Gwen’s voice was shocked.

“His trousers are quite nice,” Hobie nodded as if he was looking at a magazine.

“It’s so…weird,” Miles shuddered. “I’ve never seen him in anything else but his suit.”

“He wore a nice button-down to my Zoom celebration once,” Margo hummed.

“Guys?” Pavitr’s voice went high. “Where’s Peter?”

The three of them turned around to see a missing pink-robed Spider.

“Oh, come on!” Miles jumped from the roof to the next one, following the pink fluff. Miguel was walking fast on the sidewalk and Peter was keeping his trail from up high.

“Really, Peter?” Gwen swung alongside the two with the rest right on their tails. “Some mentor you are.”

“I’m a great teacher! You’re all catching on quite well,” Peter swung lower as Miguel crossed the street.

Colors flew across the sky, contrasting with the constant grays and small specs of green of Nueva York. Scaling from building to building was a lot easier with flying cars added to the mix, but it was a little odd to see wobbling vehicles every now and then.

“I think you guys should slow it down. His pace changed,” Margo noted. “He’s stopping at…a park? Didn’t know they still had those here.”

With a sturdy pull, Miles used his web to stop Peeter from running any further and the now quintet landed on the ground a safe distance from the park.

“A little dreary for a park, innit?” One eye on Hobie’s mask went higher than the other.

From where they were hiding, steel statues stood tall, tufts of greenery growing up the structure. There was more pavement than grass and the walkways contained several dips and turns.

“I think there’s some flare to it,” Miles countered. “Could use a lot more color.”

They quieted down as they watched Miguel find an empty bench. He sat down and started to rub his hands against his pants. He sat for a minute or so before he checked his watch and his leg started to bounce.

“Is he waiting on someone?” Gwen whispered.

“Oh, I wonder who it could be?” Pav whispered back.

“Why are you guys whispering?” Margo paused her side mission of trying to find any security cameras in the area.

“Doesn’t he have super-hearing?” Miles asked.

“Over this much noise?” Hobie brought the talking level back to normal. “If he doesn’t suspect us of following him, there’s no need for him to focus on us.”

After about five minutes of watching and making a game out of how many times can Miguel check his clothes, with Peter mumbling about how the pants aren’t going to get any looser with those thighs, everyone holds their breath as they watch someone take a seat next to him.

Miguel’s entire demeanor changed.

His face lit up, his back straightened, and the tension from his body fell.

“No way,” Pavitr whispered excitedly. “Guys!”

“What’s going on? I still can’t get into the security cams,” Margo’s voice was impatient.

“Miguel…has a partner?” Gwen tilted her head watching the two react. The mystery person got up to hug Miguel as he sat on the bench. He hesitated a bit, fingers twitching awkwardly before he hugged them back. “Or not.”

“If one of you could get closer, I could pitch the sound to everyone. And, I could see!”

Everyone turned to Miles.

“Why is everybody looking at me?”

“You can turn invisible, genius,” Gwen said.

He just sighed and faded from head to toe.

“How’s it going Spidey?” you lean back from your hug to look down at him. Your hands rub his shoulders. “You look nice today.”

Miguel averted his eyes, “You’re not supposed to call me that-”

“Outside of HQ or our phone calls. I know, I know. Seriously though, why are you so dressed up today? Got a hot date waiting?”

Miguel tilted his head, “Do I really look nice?”

The shirt he was wearing was barely hiding anything, any tighter and it would have been considered a muscle tee. It was tucked into some slacks with a belt that made his tiny waist even smaller. The pants hugged his thighs just enough.

“Yeah!” More than he could imagine.

“Thanks,” he smiled a bit. “There’s no hot date. Just wearing something casual.”

Your shoulders lifted at the words.

“Cool, cool.”

“You look nice, as well.”

“Really?” you looked down at your last-minute outfit. Some gray joggers you found at a thrift store and a hoodie you’re almost certain has a random bleach stain somewhere on the back. “You’re digging the midnight chic?”

“Midnight chic?”

“Yeah, an outfit you wear when going out for a snack in the middle of the night.”

Miguel pursed his lips, “It looks soft. Comfortable.”

You involuntarily gripped your bag tighter, watching Miguel’s eyes roam you from the neck down.

Lately, he’s been saying things that make your stomach flutter, from being willing to beat up your boss to fussing at you for running errands so late to remembering small details from months ago.

Only recently has his eyes began to wander. He doesn’t catch on as fast when you explain things to him. You’ve caught him staring at you while you’re looking at other things. His smile lingered a little longer. His hands were a lot more careful. Sometimes, he’d tense up when you touched him.

It was all so confusing and the feelings you’ve pushed down for years have crawled their way back up, waiting at the back of your tongue to be announced.

Still, you were just here to help him for as long as he needed you. Nothing more, nothing less.

You cleared your throat, “Okay so, you said you needed help with…Excel?”

“Mm hm,” Miguel nodded and locked his eyes back on your face.

You pulled your laptop, turning up the brightness so that the scenery wouldn’t shoot straight through the transparent device.

“So, this program is like, extremely old.”

“I know, but it's a middle ground for all of the Spiders. Anything newer would be too much for about a fourth of them and anything older would take ages for anyone to complete.”

“Got it,” you inch close enough to Miguel for his cologne to dance around you. He leaned closer to squint at your laptop and you had to will your hands to not shake like jelly. “So, the program is actually pretty simple. You just enter formulas, charts, numbers, or information in these boxes. There’s a lot more manual work than we’re used to, but it won’t take much to get used to.”

You walked Miguel through everything you’ve taught yourself over the past few days. Having him put in formulas and waiting for the result.

“Like this?”

“Almost! You’re missing a letter here.”

“Can you go over it again?”

Miguel's hands would hover over the keyboard, eyes focused and nose scrunched. Sometimes you would fight the screaming in your head and place your hands over his, helping him punch certain numbers in.

“Miguel, I think you’re messing with me. We’ve repeated this same thing on four other sheets now. I know you’re smarter than that.”

He poked his tongue in his cheek, “I’m just quadruple checking. Gotta teach this to some older people.”

“Fine,” you snort. “One more time and then I have to get ready to go.”

“Already?” Miguel turned to you. “I thought you didn’t have to be somewhere until this evening.”

“I don’t, but I can’t go looking like this. You spent 30 minutes arguing with me about the interface. Don’t you have to go back to HQ soon?”

“No.”

There was a noise behind you. You turn around to see nothing but a curved wall embedded with vines.

You put your heart to your chest, “God, I thought that was a reporter or something. Just the wind I suppose.”

Miguel’s eyes stayed planted on the empty space, “On second thought, let me walk you there. Don’t want any surprises.”

“So you don’t need me to go over this for the fifth time?”

“Nope,” Miguel grinned down at you. “I got it the first time, actually.”

“Oh my god,” you laugh as you hit his arm. He doesn’t even flinch. “You’re such a jerk.”

He looked around and got behind you to squat down, tapping on his gizmo. You could only hide so much of him. “Would a jerk swing you to your apartment?”

You look up at him equipped with his mask.

“He probably would, actually.”

“Aw,” Miguel said, red marks for eyes holding so much sadness. “Oh well.”

You yell as he yanks you up by the waist and shoots his web up to the nearest flying car.

“Miles! You almost screwed us over!” Margo did her best to wipe their trace.

“I panicked!” Miles tried to explain himself as he ran on the windows of a skyscraper.

“For what?” Gwen flipped as she connected from one structure to the next. “It was so clear that he meant that he wanted to be with whoever that was, not because he wants to quit HQ.”

“Seeing him like that feels like we met a new man,” Hobie said. His boots were light in the air. “Don’t like it.”

“You say that like he doesn’t let you get away with everything,” Pavitr said.

“Like what?”

“Like giving away food to the street cleaners.”

“Or like pasting your band stickers everywhere.”

“Or painting an ACAB mural.”

“To be fair, Miguel aligns with every single one of those things,” Hobie shrugged.

“This is great and all, but talk about a major fail,” Peter sighed. “He clearly needs a wingman.”

“I thought he did pretty good!” Miles said.

The rest of the group made a range of judging noises.

“His game definitely needs some work and he’s already on his way back to HQ, so hurry it up, guys. We need to hustle and huddle.”

Miguel was at his dock again, preparing to go check out the anomalies of the week. 

He was back doing the thing that distracted him most: thinking about you. 

Yesterday only confirmed what he’s been thinking about ever since you opened your mouth. 

He’s absolutely infatuated with you. 

At first, he thought it was a fluke, a blip in his timeline. No matter how many times your jokes made him chuckle or your smile brought him warmth, he wasn’t going to lean into it. 

But then, you called him one night and your voice brought him back from the darkness that was consuming him. Stories of your life, an exchange of nostalgia, a whisper of hope for the future, and the confirmation that he was more than the error in time that he thought he was. 

You’re something that he more than adored. 

And yet, he still hasn’t figured out how to tell you. 

He wanted more than the monthly meetups to refresh his memory on the stupid tech that kept this building running. 

Truthfully, he could call Gabriel, or worst case scenario, Xina for help, but every time he got a chance it was your name that crossed his mind. 

Miguel sighed as he started to shut some tabs down. 

“Spiders incoming,” Lyla popped up to inform him. 

Miguel saw the gaggle of teens plus Peter walking to his office. 

“Here we go,” he grumbled. 

“Turn that frown upside-down! Company is always good,” Lyla said. 

Before Peter can open his mouth Miguel is beating him to it. 

“What do you want?”

“Ouch!” Peter laughed. “Not up for a bit of family bonding time?”

“Not with you.”

“Oh c’mon, Miguel,” Peter inches forward as Miguel’s platform comes down. “Hear us out.”

“Make it quick.”

The teens all stared at Peter who looked back and forth between them. 

“Do any of you not know what the word ‘quick’ means?” Miguel asked with irritation lining his voice. 

“Well,” Miles started. 

“You see, we were thinking that you might need some help,” Gwen finishes. 

Miguel crossed his arms, “Help with what.”

“Your sad flirting,” Hobie says. 

“What?”

“You know,” Peter puts his arm around Miguel’s shoulders. “You need a wingman!”

Miguel’s frown grew deeper, “What are you talking about? Did you guys spy on me?”

Six voices overloaded Miguel’s eardrums, all explaining their part of some convoluted scheme. 

“Alright, alight! Quiet!” Miguel holds his hands out. “Margo!”

Miguel pinned his eyes to her with his eyebrows pinched. 

She danced from foot to foot, face scrunched, “We just! We were worried about you so we followed you and saw you making googly eyes at someone!” The words spilled out of her like water. 

Everyone but Hobie looked at Margo incredulously. 

“What?” she whined. “He was giving me his disappointed look. The disappointment was torturing me!”

Miguel turned and paced, pinching his nose as he whispered to himself. 

“Miguel, they could help you!” Lyla said cheerfully. “You’ve only been crushing on them for what…multiple years?”

“Lyla!”

“Multiple years? No wonder you’re always so tense. That’s pretty sad, bro,” Pavitr hummed. 

Miguel pointed his finger, “Don’t bro me.”

“Still seeking authority in his moment of weakness. Something’s got to give,” Hobie went to lean on a wall. 

“We really thought something terrible was going on,” Miles’ shoulders drop. “You also go M.I.A. whenever you have a problem.”

“We just wanted to help,” Gwen supplied. 

“Hey man, don’t blame the kids for this one, alright?” Peter’s voice lowered so only the two of them could hear it, albeit a bit useless in a room full of power-holding teens. “Say the word and we’ll stay out of it, but the kids deserve to know why you were canceling on them at least.”

Miguel looked at Peter with an exasperated face before looking at the teens, three of which looked like they were about to cry. 

He rolled his eyes to the ceiling and let out a deep breath, “I’m not sick.”

“But lovesick?” Margo asked. 

He gave her a tired look, “Yes.”

“Well why not say that instead of just disappearing?”

“They’re the one who helped make the tech for this society. Without them, there would be no updated gizmos, no updated Lyla, no new ideas. Every time I left it was to…get insight on something here. To fix broken tech.”

“And to stare in their face,” Pavitr snickered. 

Miguel panned his eyes to the floor, too embarrassed to admit it. 

“What’s the hold up in telling them how you feel?” Peter asked. “There’s no time like the present.”

“Don’t tell me yesterday was an example of what happens when you try to confess?” Gwen’s face twisted up, teeth clenched in second-hand embarrassment. 

Miguel’s silence was enough of an answer. 

“Tío,” Miles closed his eyes then looked back up dramatically with his hands out. “¡Vamo’! Sácale, llévale al cine.”

Lyla put a spotlight on Miles and held a microphone out to him while Miguel groaned. 

“Cómprale, un ramo de flores!”

“Ya no puédo mas,” Miguel swiped through the holographic mic. “Eso no va a funcionar.”

Miles slumped, “But how do you know? You haven’t even tried! Bañate, junto con el-”

“Don’t finish that song, Miles,” Miguel’s fingers went to his temples. 

“You should really listen to the lyrics-”

“Why don’t we help you win them over?” Margo stood in between the two, ending the squabble. “It’s clear that they seem to like you too.”

Miguel's eyes went softer staring at Margo’s pleading face, “How do you know?”

“We quite literally saw it,” Hobie spoke as if Miguel lost his mind. “No one ever talks to you that sweet.”

The teens all nodded their head in unison and Peter did a horrible job at hiding his laugh. 

Hobie wasn’t done, “Don’t let someone like that slip through your fingers.”

Miguel was at the park again, dressed up even more than last time. An open navy button-down was tucked into his pants, his slacks were dark gray, and he had on one of the more expensive pairs of dress shoes he owned. A chain he borrowed from Gabriel adorned his neck and he let his hair natural and loose for once. 

Under Miles’ advice, he did buy some flowers. Hobie told him to remain calm, Gwen told him to just talk, Pavitr gave him a bullet point list of what and what not to do, and Margo told him that he was the best no matter how the confession turned out.

Peter went on and on about the importance of love and relationships but Miguel was never inclined to listen to him. He did keep the comment about letting you know how much he means to you to heart, though.

He was so in his own thoughts when you showed up in front of him that he didn’t even notice you at first.

He jumped when you tapped his shoulder.

“Woah, it’s just me. And you’re super dressed up today. What’s the occasion? I’m not taking ‘casual’ for an answer this time.”

Miguel swallowed dryly, grip on the bouquet of cool-toned flowers almost enough to wilt the stems.

“Flowers?” your eyes went to his hand.

“Yeah, um.”

Just breathe, Miguel!

Margo’s perky reminders sounded off in Miguel’s head.

“I brought them for you,” Miguel placed them in your hands.

“Oh!” your face lit up. “These are beautiful. Thank you so much. I didn’t get you anything, though. I didn’t know we were bringing gifts today.”

“No need. I wanted to get them because,” Miguel felt his throat closing in. “I really, really like you.”

The smile on your face dropped as you stared at him.

“It’s been particularly hard over the past years to try to focus without you running through my thoughts and I don’t want the fear of myself or my circumstance to stop me from having a chance to be with you.”

Maybe his ears could pick up how fast your heart was going, too.

“So if you’re willing, will you please go out with me?”

You dropped the flowers and brought him in for a tight hug. 

“Are you kidding me? Of course, I’ll go out with you.”

Miguel was quick to wrap his arms around you today, burying his face in your neck, “No hesitation?”

“I’ve been wanting and honestly, waiting for one of us to make a move for years. You’re always so busy, so I was too nervous to even bother,” you look back at Miguel’s face, smiling from ear to ear.

“Sorry to keep you waiting then.”

You looked from his lips to his eyes, “Can we skip a few steps?”

“Such as?”

You pushed forward, melting into him as you slotted his lips against yours, head full of warmth and clouds. Miguel matched your pace, hand on your back as he pressed against you. When he opened your lips you pulled back, breath dancing against his. 

“Swing me to my apartment?”

Miguel smirked, “Always.”

As always, like, reblog, and COMMENT. Let me know how you guys feel! 🩵

[byhees]

you fangirling over them.

엔하이픈 ・ female reader + word count 500 genre fluff established relationship idol au warnings not proof-read skinship light profanity — more

a/n. requested!

heeseung would be so incredibly smiley; he hadn’t expected for you to show this much adoration towards their new concept pictures, let alone squeal this much over their comeback teasers; listens to your rambles on how “insanely attractive he looks whilst doing even the most minimal of things” and on how “flawlessly pretty his skin looks”, with the most tender of smiles…

jay would honestly be a little embarrassed— i mean, you’re actively going on a passionate spiel about how his visuals are breathtaking and simply out-of-this-world, so how can he not? would raise his hands to shield his reddened cheeks from you, not wanting you to spot his obvious fluster; “oh my god, babe… it’s not that—“ and he’s instantly cut-off with a disbelieving “what??”; would genuinely feel so loved, because here you are, complimenting him and whisking his doubts away…

jake would flash the biggest, most charming, smirk; would drape an arm around your shoulders, tugging you close to his side— hums a little “oh really?” in response to your endearing fangirling, a small smile tugging on the corners of his lips; occasionally bites his bottom lip to hold back a little giggle, finding your exaggerated hand gestures and dramatic explanations, extremely adorable…

sunghoon would be flattered beyond the capability of words; would probably be really bashful, the swell of his cheeks tinted a pretty pink shade; has to pull you close, and bury his face in the crook of your neck, for most parts, finding your compliments really, really flustering. “oh my god?? you look so incredible.. and so ethereal… and so beautiful”, and he’d be left blushing, the tips of his ears warming up…

sunoo would probably giggle upon hearing your rambles; honestly gets pretty shy at your use of vocabulary— surreal, handsome, elegant? they all have him melting; would probably tease you for your reactions, finger raising to boop you on the nose; has to hold back a chuckle when he finds out that you’ve set one of his pictures as your lockscreen…

jungwon would be so, so shy; gets all flustered when you bombard him with heaps of compliments, his dimples making a faint appearance in the midst of your fangirling; eyes shifting to land on nearly every object in the room— cheeks dusted with a pretty red hue when you tip his chin up, locking gazes with him; is really touched when you continually rewatch the comeback trailer, eyes twinkling with unwavering admiration and pride…

riki would feel so proud; listens to your rants on how “stunningly pretty he looks”, and about how “superb he is at acting, especially in their recent trailers”, with a little grin; “oh, really?” he’d hum, the widest of smiles etched on his features— and when you send an aggressive nod his way, he only bursts out into a cacophonous guffaw; finds you so adorable— can’t help but to ruffle the top of your head, a sweet smile glued onto his lips…

taglist open! @halcyoni-ki @wondipity @yjjungwon @shysakuno @niktwazny303 @vnsux @minhosify @haechansbbg @yeomha @stepout-09-15 @chansburgah @sona-verse01 @lilly-bubblelops @smouches @mrchweeee @luvistqrzzz @nwjws @ibsysbsfsunsbs @rikisly @amyysfics @mixtape-racha @berry-and-kkami @rikislady @gweoriz networks! @kflixnet @enhanet @k-labels

[daintyys]

somethin' stupid

fem!reader x ex!james potter, 2k words, swearing, angst, smut

second chance romance and make up sex!!! no hate towards lily in this AT ALL! i adore her i j really felt like writing james x reader🩷🩷

3 months ago, James Potter had broken up with you. You appreciated him coming clean, you really did, but it still broke you when the words "I think I'm starting to like Lily Evans" left his mouth. He hadn't cheated, or even flirted, so there was no reason for you to hate him, yet you were furious.

You tried to avoid him in the halls at all costs, even if it meant shoving someone out of your way in order to hide yourself from him. He sometimes said hi to you, and you caught him staring at you in class, but you ignored him. You knew you shouldn't hold anything against him, but still you did. You hated him. James Potter was public enemy number 1.

"Y/N! Quit studying and start getting ready, yeah?" Marlene McKinnon shouted at you. She was getting ready with Mary McDonald, and the two of them stood staring at you with crossed arms. Lily was sitting on her bed silently, not feeling particularly welcome. You hadn't spoken to her since you and James broke up, and you felt awful for ditching her. You would make that up to her tonight.

"Alright, alright, Marls. Give me a second." You shut your potions textbook, using your wand as a bookmark for the page you were reading. You stood, giving Lily a weak smile. You were so incredibly guilty.

Once you were ready, you looked at yourself in the mirror. You thought you looked pretty damn good. You had on a plaid skirt, black cardigan, and a shiny new pair of boots. You applied a layer of red lipstick, and braided your hair as you and your friends left the dormitory.

You walked beside Lily, ready to start your little apology spiel. Things hadn't even ended up working out between her and James, so you should have spoken to her 2 months ago when they decided they weren't right for each other. "Hey, Lily." You mumbled, turning to her. Her head perked up instantly. "Hi Y/N." She replied, a hurt expression on her face. "I've missed you. So much." You whispered, not wanting to get Marlene and Mary involved.

Lily took a moment to respond. When she finally did, she had tears in her eyes. "I missed you too, oh my God. I am so sorry about you and James." She hugged you tightly, and you held her close. "It wasn't your fault, Lily. It's my fault I didn't even try to get an explanation from you." She giggled into your shoulder. "Yeah, that was pretty fucking stupid."

You and Lily were fine now, and that made your night incredible. You stayed by her side all night, laughing and catching up. You and the girls were just leaving Madam Puddifoot's when you heard a loud sound behind you. Turning around, there you saw them: Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, and, of course, James Potter.

You then noticed a trail of light coming straight for you. "Y/N! Watch out!" James screamed. He was too late.

Bang!

Next thing you knew, you were on the ground, feeling particularly nauseous and cold. You looked around frantically as you saw your friends and the boys run over to you. You almost screamed as James Potter bent down and effortlessly picked you up.

"You won't be able to walk for a little bit, that was a leg-freezing charm." He stammered, a guilty expression on his face. "You're a real goddamn genius, Potter. Were you trying to kill us?" Marlene shouted, just about to knock all 4 of the boys out. "I didn't know it was you guys!" James boomed, holding you slightly closer to him.

You could feel his heart racing as he carried you back up to the castle. He was extremely flustered, his cheeks bright red and breathing heavily. Marlene was still going back and forth with the boys, to your dismay. You weren't surprised by their stupidity, as you had put up with it for almost 5 months when you dated James.

Once inside the castle, you were shivering profusely. "Y/N, I am so bloody sorry." James whispered in your ear, gently rubbing your arm to keep you warm. "I-It's okay, not surprised a-at all." You chattered, avoiding eye contact. He scoffed, grinning down at you. "If you don't mind, I can help you out while this wears off." He almost mouthed to you. You nodded hesitantly, not wanting to admit to yourself you still had feelings for him.

You reassured your friends that you would be just fine before you were carried off to the boy's dorm. Lily gave you a knowing smile as you disappeared up the stairs, and you tried not to laugh.

James laid you gently on his bed. You had missed it there. "Still smells like shit in here." You cringed, pulling his comforter around yourself. "Yea, guess it does." You could tell he was nervous. "What's the real reason you wanted to help me out?" You asked, an annoyed tone in your voice. James sat on the edge of the bed and looked at you briefly before turning away. "I guess I missed you." He muttered, staring down at the floor.

Your heart skipped a beat, and then your throat began to burn. Don't cry, oh fuck, don't cry. And then the tears started to stream down your face. "Oh god, oh no- Y/N, please don't cry." He scooted closer to you, putting an arm around your shoulders, which just made you cry harder. "Shhh, I'm so sorry." James comforted.

"I fucking hate you, James!" You wailed, attempting to shove him away from you. He knew better than anyone that what you needed when you were upset was comfort, so he continued holding you. "I know you do, sweetheart, and I deserve that. I hurt you." You sobbed hard, and then finally gave in. He was trying to make it up to you.

You burrowed your face in his chest, taking in his scent. You missed this. You missed his scent, and you missed how safe you felt with him. "I should have gotten you back earlier, Y/N." James cooed, stroking your hair. "Yeah, you should have." You mumbled into his chest. "It broke my heart not being able to talk to you for so long." James confessed. You calmed down, and looked up at him sadly. "I hate seeing you cry, honey. I'm not going anywhere, okay?" He promised.

"These last 3 months have been hell, James." You admitted, still letting him hold you. "Oh I know, they've been awful for me too. I should have never let you go." He said, wiping a tear from your cheek. "I was confused about my feelings for Lily and didn't know what else to do other than let you down easy." You nodded, you truly did undersand, it was just hard to accept you hadn't been the only girl on his mind. "I know, James. I also shouldn't have ignored you."

"The charm isn't going to wear off for a while, so I would maybe suggest a hot shower..." James sighed, running his hands up and down your freezing legs. "Don't try and get in my pants, James." You scowled at him. His mouth formed a wide grin. "You know that's not what I meant!" You couldn't help but giggle at him. "Yeah, I know, you just want to help me." You said as you slowly pulled off your cardigan.

You heard James' breath hitch, and he looked away from you quickly. "I'll help you to the bathroom, but I don't want to invade your privacy." He whispered, face turning beet-red. "It's nothing you haven't already seen, Jamie." You cooed.

He slowly turned back to you as you were unhooking your bra. You knew how nervous James got when you were alone together, so it felt good to get to tempt him again. His tongue flicked out of his mouth and licked his lips, now staring at you shamelessly.

You both missed this feeling, hardly being able to keep your hands off of each other. "C-Can I?" James faltered, eyeing your tits. You nodded, and without another word his mouth was sloppily kissing one of your breasts. You opened your mouth slightly and shut your eyes. This was it. This had to be the best feeling ever.

He nipped at your boob and sucked your nipple, and you felt him smile as you let out a moan. "Shit- this is really great, James, but my legs..." You trailed off. His mouth disconnected from your breath and he looked up at you with a dazed expression. "Shower then?" He suggested. You nodded, and were instantly picked up.

His hands cupped your ass and he kissed your neck desperately. James needed to be as close to you as possible. You were breathing hard, anticipating what was to come.

Once in the bathroom, you were placed temporarily on the ground while James turned on the shower. You finished undressing yourself, and waited for James to do the same. He looked down at you, a smile forming on his lips. "You're so gorgeous, Y/N." He spluttered, eyeing the bulge in his trousers.

You were one step ahead of him, and sat up straighter to unbutton his pants. He gasped quietly as you pulled his pants down, revealing his hard. "Can I, Jamie?" You said, looking up at him enticingly. He could have finished right then and there. "Yes, fuck, yes please." James whimpered.

You pulled his boxers down and immediately began to fist his cock. He held onto the counter, knuckles turning white. "Dammit, Y/N." He hissed through his teeth. "That good, hm?" You mocked, running your thumb over his tip. James breathed in sharply, and quickly took off his shirt. "Need you." He mumbled as he picked you up again, bringing you into the shower with him.

Your body relaxed as the hot water hit you. Your legs were beginning to have feeling in them, but that wouldn't matter in a few minutes. James kissed you hard, cupping your ass once more. He slipped his tongue into your mouth desperately, and you moaned in approval.

"Merlin, you're so great." He panted as he took himself into his hand. "Why do that when I'm right here, Jamie?" You asked innocently. His cock shuddered as you spoke. "You're right, love." He lined himself up at your entrance, pressing your body against the wall of the shower. "You ready?" James asked, leaning his forehead against yours. "Yes, I am." And with that he was gently pushing into you, coaxing moans from your throat.

"So good, oh shit." He whined, tickling your neck with his hot breath. He began to buck against your hips, slowly and gently. You unravled as he thrusted inside you, and clawed at his back. "Oh God, baby." You squeaked, moans falling out of your mouth.

James fucked you harder, sucking on your neck with skill comparable to a vampire. "Doing so good, love." James breathed as he noticed your legs begin to shake. "Got feeling back in your legs, hm?" He laughed. You found it so attractive how he could still joke like that while fucking you.

James started to get sloppy, his thrusts becoming offbeat and lazy. Your legs began to clench around his hips, and the walls of your pussy tightened around his cock. "Shit- gonna cum-" James pulled out of you, cumming on your stomach. You released as well, letting out a shrill moan.

You leaned your forehead against James' again, and smiled. He looked into your eyes, pupils wide and longing. "You're amazing, Y/N." He whispered, peppering your face with kisses. You giggled, and held his face in your hands. "I really missed you." You proclaimed, rubbing his cheeks with your thumbs. James nodded and set you on your feet lightly. "I'm sure I missed you more."

He cleaned his mess off of you, kissing your stomach as he did so. "Pretty girl," He cooed as he began to wash your hair. "Can we try again? At us?" You spun to face him quickly, a grin across your face. "You think I would let you shag me if I didn't still want to be in a relationship with you?" You said laughing. James went red, embarrassed. "Well, I dunno, you can be confusing." He placed his hands on your hips and pulled you closer to him, hugging you to his body, not wanting to ever let go.

[songsofadelaide]

All of your colleagues in the office knew of Satoru's long-standing crush on you. Who would have known that behind his sharp wit and debonair aura, he was actually an absolute sap of a man?

They didn't know he looked up to you so much because you bailed him out of an error-riddled document he made when he was just starting the job. It was only normal for you to do so since he was your junior, and you didn't want to get chewed out by your Department Chief.

But after that night of overtime, you were his saviour, and the last thing he wanted to do was saddle you with any more grunt work, so he worked doubly hard to submit perfect reports to you.

Even you had to admit that Satoru was a good-looking kid. He was always dressed impeccably well and smelled amazing, too. He's two years your junior but an incredibly quick learner— so much so that the Department Chief started taking notice of him, too. You wouldn't be surprised if he got promoted to team leader soon.

And though you've seen how dependable he is when it comes to work, he still can't help but act a little spoiled and babyish around you. He'd ask you to fix his tie for him, or maybe straighten out his collar. It's always your opinion he seeks out first whenever there are team discussions, as though he was showing off and asking you to back up his ideas. He had a good head on his shoulders, but he tends to forget whenever you're around.

Satoru's crush on you has been a long-time open secret at the office. You've been asked how you felt about the whole thing and you didn't really have much of a thought about it. Though it made you wonder... If he liked you that much, why hasn't he ever made a move on you for real? Then again, how would you react if that were to happen?

And that made you think. A lot.

And drink.

A lot.

After closing yet another deal at work, your Department Chief called for a night of celebration— their treat, too, and somehow your glass of beer became a bottomless well that was only pulled away from you by none other than Satoru, who saw you had way too much to drink that night because—

You didn't want to think.

But, oh, how could you not? Your adorable junior held you to his chest as he gently wrestled the half-empty beer glass out of your hands— wait, adorable? Satoru was six feet of coolness, for the lack of a better word. Surely you aren't talking about that Satoru—

"Senpai, you're drunk."

His voice echoed in your ear, but you couldn't hear anything from the sound of his heartbeat against your cheek. He sounded far too calm for someone whose heart was in hysterics. The sound soothed you so much that you were already half-asleep in his arms while the rest of your team noisily and happily drank their fill in the brightly lit izakaya.

You were awoken by the sound of your Department Chief's farewell spiel for the week. It was a Friday night and tomorrow was a day-off so everyone had the luxury of nursing their hangovers for as long as they could the morning after. You could only faintly hear their words of thanks, followed by "it's about time we wrapped up" and "we'll leave the team leader to you, Gojo-kun".

"Mmnngh..."

You felt Satoru's chest tremble, closely followed by a soft chuckle. "Senpai, stop grumbling. Bucho-san said thanks for your efforts. We're going home now."

How you got home was a mystery, because you remember walking half-asleep in your junior's arms and falling into an even deeper sleep on the cab ride home. He nearly carried you to your bed, but not without laying you down with the gentleness of a mother setting her child to sleep. Somehow your bed smelled just like him...

He was about to turn away from you when you pulled him by his necktie. Surely you can reward him a bit... "Gojo-kun, you like me, don't you?"

Oh, who am I kidding? At this point, you already overthought and confirmed that you liked him back. "I like you, too, so..."

"...Senpai? You're drunk, s-so don't—" He was back to his babyish way again, but he was obviously just taken aback by your sudden boldness. You pulled him down until you were caged in his arms, his rigid torso looming over you, his kind yet confused blue eyes drinking in your features like he hadn't had enough earlier that night.

"I'll sleep with you, but only if you consider this a dream."

"You mean to say...?"

Satoru sounded like he was considering things.

"Forget about everything when you wake up."

Imagine your embarrassment the following morning when you discovered you weren't at your place but at Satoru's apartment instead. You were confident he'd leave quietly after last night but that wasn't the case since it was you who stayed over. Forget about everything when you wake up. Tough luck. And stupid of me to even—

You were still fully clothed. And Satoru was nowhere to be found on his bed.

"Are you awake, senpai? I laid out a change of clothes for you and made breakfast for us, so come out when you're ready!"

For all your big talk last night, you were incredibly ashamed by the whole ordeal. It was embarrassing enough that he had to witness such an uncool side of you, but even more so now that you were imposing on the young man's kindness. Still, you decided to change into a fresh shirt that smelled just like him and face the music.

There he was, setting his dinner table with an elated smile that grew even wider when he saw you in his shirt. "Good morning, senpai! I hope you don't mind sandwiches for breakfast. I don't usually eat rice in the morning..."

He sat you down across from him and laid a plate of what looked like a club sandwich, the bread lightly toasted and the greens still moist from washing.

"Gojo-kun—"

"Before anything else, there's something I have to tell you... About last night, senpai... You said you liked me too. And all night I felt terrible because I never even got around to confessing to you and you beat me to it," Satoru stated, but not before concluding with a small sigh of defeat. "Then again, you were drunk last night, so I wouldn't be surprised if it was just your alcohol-fueled—"

"Don't say that, Gojo-kun! I-I meant what I said, s-so please don't just dismiss them as drunk ramblings," you said in surprise, raising your hands in defence as you reasoned with him. He reached out for your hands from across the table, and you could have sworn you felt him slightly trembling. In... In nervousness? If that were the case, he really does a good job of not showing it at all.

"I like you, senpai," he said with his normal, straightforward coolness that seemed to have everyone at work hooked onto him. Though his gaze seemed to soften as he looked away from you sheepishly, his babyish side rearing its head this time. "And if... if that offer of yours from last night still stands... At least don't tell me to forget about it."

I suppose I like both of them. Both his cool and his cute side, you thought to yourself. You won't be forgetting that Saturday morning anytime soon. And neither would he.

[motelsnleatherseats]

Sam finally got invited to his first party, and Dean couldn't be happier for the kid. For too long had he had his nose buried in books, for too long had he hid his shy and somewhat awkward gaze towards girls behind hair too long. Dean was always wondering when he'd finally dive into a social life instead of just pining for one, and it was comforting to see Sam get excited about the prospect of making friends and meeting girls.

Until it wasn't.

Watching Sam spend too long in the bathroom getting ready made Dean feel a little unsettled. His baby brother had never invested so much time in his looks before, he had never tried to impress anyone outside of tidbits of specifically niche information he could recall off the top of head in some geeky spiel that would only excite the equally nerdy. But now he was combing his fingers through his hair, brushing his teeth just once more before he'd be ready to go, splashing just a little bit of aftershave on his neck despite never bringing a razor to his baby-faced complexion.

Dean was dragging his feet while Sam was impatiently trying to rush him out the door, complaining about being late.

Are you sure you know enough people going? Ugh, yes.

Do you have your blade with you? Seriously Dean, can we just go, please?

You sure you don't want me to go with you? Yeah, cause I really need a chaperone.

Maybe Dean took an extra back road, maybe just drove a couple miles per hour under the speed limit, looking for any excuse to keep Sam by his side a little bit longer. He couldn't help but think tonight would be the night that some cute little thing who barely developed tits over the summer would find Sam just too adorable not to sink her teeth into, and the thought made him stomach-sick.

Once they had pulled up to the party, Dean watched with a frown as Sam checked his reflection once more in the rearview mirror, making sure one hair wasn't out of place.

Don't drink too much. Dean--

Seriously Sammy, just be careful. I'm always careful.

Call me if you need me, okay? I'll be fine.

One more thing.

Dean reached over and curled his hand at the back of Sam's neck, pulling him in to press their lips together, much to Sam's shock and dismay. He gave a petulant whine and even moved to wipe his lips with the back of his hand as he stared at Dean incredulously with a 'what the hell was that for?'

Now when someone asks you if you've ever kissed someone before, you can say yes. You're such a creep, I swear to God.

Dean watched as Sam scoot himself out of the Impala, a disgruntled look on his face as he stormed off to the party, but Dean smirked. No one got to lay claim on Sammy before him.

[honey-flustered]

Made With Love (Fluff)

Eddie Munson x Crocheter!Soft!GF!Plus!Reader

Summary: You love making gifts for your boyfriend and his cool uncle. And Eddie just simply adores you.

A/N: Just short draft that ive kept for a while now because i just didn’t know what to do with it. So ive decided to publish it as it is so that in the meantime i can get my shit together.

Word Count: 1.5k+

Summary: inexperienced!reader and eddie, plus size reader, hinted!autistic reader, eddie being a simp for reader, lots of fluff, wayne being reader’s number 1 supporter (don’t tell eddie 🤭), sexually suggestive language and behavior, some body worship, kissing, cuddling

Eddie Munson is the luckiest man in the world. No really because just how did he manage to get a girl like you in his arms? You went beyond his criteria of a perfect girl which was simply to be a woman. But you’ve exceeded in ways he could have never imagined.

For one, you’ve got amazing taste in music. Despite the differences in your music genres, you both appreciate the variety and exchange songs all the time. Second, you’re absolutely gorgeous. Eddie knew he loved rubenesque women but you were all that and more. He swears could die and go to heaven at the feeling of your thick thighs and soft belly as you’d lay his head on either part. And not to mention that beautiful face he yearns to see smiling at him constantly with those enchanting eyes that seem to twinkle endlessly.

Lastly—a fact about you that has both facts, one and two, beat—you’re awfully talented. You bake, paint, and, best of all, you crochet.

You crochet just about everything and he admires it. The best part is you always came up with the most interesting things that even Eddie wasn’t sure he needed.

Currently, you and Eddie were curled up on his couch. Your eyes wandering his shaky lean frame while his eyes stays glued to the television set, a gentle hand caressing your thigh.

You pride yourself for being an observant one, a skill you’ve had to perfect throughout your childhood in order to understand the world around you. And because you’re so observant, nothing gets passed you including the way he continues to shiver beside you.

“Something wrong?” You ask, concerned.

“Just my unusually cold wrists as always,” Eddie sighs. “Strangely specific, I know. It’s the chain bracelet and leather cuffs. The silver and leather are like ice against my skin with this freezing ass weather.”

You smile brightly, clapping your hands in excitement. “Actually, I have just the thing for this little issue.”

“Oh, do you?” Eddie smirks, nose scrunching up in amusement.

“Mhm,” You nod as you began rummaging through your bumblebee bag (crocheted by yours truly). “Close you eyes.”

“‘Kay.” He obeys with a smile never leaving his face.

Rushing up to stand in front of the television set, you held the items behind your back before commanding your boyfriend to open his eyes once more.

“So…I’ve noticed the way you rub your wrists for the friction to radiate some heat because they’re always so cold lately. And I also notice that when the cold becomes to unbearable you’re forced to remove your wrist accessories,” You began your spiel as if you’re in an infomercial. “Why should you sacrifice style or possibly losing your accessories because of naked wrists? Well not anymore with my handy dandy…wrist bands!”

You shoot your hands up and out in front of you, dangling each red and white patterned wristband in either hand. “I also call them Eds Bracelet Warmers as a placeholder product name.”

“That’s metal!” Eddie praises, standing up to study the bands closely. You release them into his hands and he stares down at them in awe, sliding each onto his arm and making a little show of them before his attention resumes back on you.

“Do you like it?” You say rocking back and forth on your heels anxiously.

“I love it! It’s the best gift you’ve ever given me.”

You snort out a giggle. “You say that with every crochet I’ve made you.”

“I was wrong all the other times. I mean, as much as I love the crocheted mug warmers, pillows, and seat cover…I’m thinking this might top them all. Just look at the detailing on this. You’re like a goddamn Picasso. Thank you, sweetheart,” Eddie says with a hand on his chest, letting you know just how much you’ve touched his heart. Then he suddenly grows shy, tapping his index fingers together as he avoids your gaze. “Permission to hold you. Maybe…kiss you a little.”

“You don’t have to ask,” You run into his embrace, cupping his face in your hands to plant a searing hot kiss onto his lips. With the mixture of your forwardness and his knee-buckling reaction, he’s sent falling back against the couch with you still in his arms.

You scramble to peel yourself off from above him, not wanting to put to much pressure on his slender frame. And yet he interlocks his fingers together right on your lower back, keeping you still. “Wait, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You could never, baby,” Eddie says, bringing a hand up to your face to caress your cheek. He then traces his thumb faintly around your lips. “I want you on me all the time.”

He suddenly becomes nervous, a tinge of pink coloring his cheeks. He’s nervous under your alluring gaze, aware that you’re clocking every shift and change in his facial features and mood. Embarrassingly, he had an erection that you no doubt felt in between your bodies and pressing against your belly. Eddie decides to release you from his full grasp.

Instead of pulling away, you draw his thumb into your mouth slowly, pursing your lips around them as you look him through your lashes and half-lidded eyes.

He chokes out an audible whine, even the inside of your mouth felt good. He’s never wanted to explore it this badly. When you pull your mouth around the digit with a pop, Eddie’s quick to cup your face now and shoves his tongue into your mouth. He takes control of the motions, gradually rolling your bodies over so that he’d end up on top.

His eager hands glide up your smooth skin of your thighs, pushing up your dress that fit snug around you. Your hands entangle themselves in his hair, letting your long nails lightly scratch his scalp.

You and Eddie have been soft lovers with one another, taking your time and being patient with one another regarding physical affection. It took a lot for the two of you to feel comfortable enough to ask each other for touches and eventual kisses. You’d say you’ve gotten pretty far.

Sometimes, things would get heated and you’d be concerned that it might lead to sex considering you’re both virgins. However, aside from your anxieties and insecurities, you actually did feel as if you’re ready to give yourself to him. But ever the gentleman, Eddie is usually one to call it quits.

But with his lips moving against your own so passionately, you couldn’t see how he’d pull away now. Especially not when you’ve got fistful of his Hellfire club shirt in your hands to prevent him from doing so.

Nonetheless, he pulls away much to your chagrin. The faint reminder of his lips against yours still felt by you in the span of a millisecond. You wish that feeling could linger forever.

He stares down at you, examining the look on your face. It’s your turn to hold him still against you, your nails burrowing in his exposed lower back.

“Sweetheart…” Eddie begins as if in a trance.

“Yes…Eddie.”

“I think…that I—”

The swinging of the creaky, trailer door is enough to lurch you both apart, sitting in your designated seats on the couch. Uncle Wayne enters the room with a hand over one eye and an outstretched hand to guide himself into the home.

“All clear?” He asks.

Eddie rolls his eyes. “All clear, Waydog. We’ve been good.”

Wayne opens his eyes slowly, his gaze landing on you on the couch. He perks up with a bright smile. “Oh, y/n, what a pleasant surprise! I wasn’t sure you’d be here. I was actually worried I was going to walk into Eddie watching—“

“Dude!” Eddie interrupts, staring at his uncle in incredulous betrayal.

“Aw come on. I kid, I kid. You know that’s what we Munson men do. She’s used to that by now.” Wayne chuckles, placing some bags of grocery on the counter.

You giggle, soothing Eddie’s hair as way of ensuring him that it’s okay. Going over to the kitchen, you and Eddie help Wayne unload the groceries when Wayne notices the crochet bands around his nephew’s wrists.

“Those look neat! You think you could make me a pair?” Wayne asks you with hopeful eyes.

“Of course! And don’t you worry, I’ll even get them to match the beanie hat I’m still making for you.” You beam.

“Woah, woah. Wait a minute. He gets a matching hat?” Eddie inquires with a pout.

“Oh, like you haven’t stolen the first hat she’s made me.” Wayne chuckles.

“I didn’t steal. I borrowed.”

“For 4 whole months?”

“There isn’t a time limit for borrowing something. If there is, I’d like to see the rule.” Eddie challenges.

“I think you’re just jealous of us,” Wayne says, standing beside you with you nodding in agreement. “Why else would you take my gifts if not to have them all to yourself?”

“My girlfriend and my uncle in alliance against me.” Eddie laughs, shaking his head in bewilderment. “Didn’t think I’d see the day coming so soon.”

[hotchfiles]

prompt 7 with spencer & bau!wife!reader? :)

let's celebrate valentine's with the criminal minds squad! 7. slow-dancing in the living room

It wasn’t even a proper hotel, just a cozy inn. Smaller the town, smaller the installations after all. You couldn't complain though (probably legally couldn't too), the couch in front of the fireplace was comfortable and warm, keeping you company as you went through the files from the case over and over again. It was a bad habit of yours, your brain usually made better connections late at night, although your genius of a husband never agreed when you told him that. That's a myth, love, he would always tell you while rambling about how biologically our brains worked better at sunlight.

You feel his scent before he even stops in front of you, droopy smile on his face, two mugs in hand. "Happy Valentine's Day, night owl." He hands you the mug, filled to the brim with fresh hot coffee. You look quickly at your phone, midnight. You take the mug and take a sip, looking back at him with all the adoring feelings you had for him and he takes the opportunity to brush his lips against your forehead.

"Happy Valentine's Day, pretty boy." He scoffs at the nickname, but still offers his hand for you to take, putting his own mug on the coffee table in front of you before pulling you up to him.

Spencer knew very well how much you liked Valentine's Day, you were always a romantic at heart, bringing heart shaped cookies to the squad, writing cards, the whole spiel, it was always unfortunate when a case like this didn't give him a chance to do something special, a proper date with the proper expensive wine, so he tried to make it up in little ways, like not getting on your nerves about going to bed and having coffee at midnight.

"Did you know—" His arms drop to your waist, holding you close, you look at him with taunt in your eyes. It had become sort of a challenge for him, to come up with at least one Valentine's Day fact he hadn't already told you during your years working together and the three of your relationship. "February fourteen was believed to be the start of birds' mating season, that's why the date relates to romance and love so much." You both stay silence for a second, as he waits for your reaction. You only smile and peck him on the lips.

"That's a new one, I surely didn't know that." Victory spreads through his face as he pumps one of his arms and whispers a lingering yes that makes you laugh. Before you even realize he's humming in your ear and your head is laid on his chest.

It takes a while for you to recognize what he's humming as he softly sways you both around:

The waltz from your wedding.

[craftytomato]

I really liked your sonic AU from "phantom Rider" could you talk more about the AU if it's not a problem?

Sure thing! As long as you don't mind that I'm leaning into the Pretending to be Mind Controlled Idea instead of Actually Mind Controlled. Most of my ideas can work either way anyway.

(I wanna see how most of the actual arc plays out first in full before I go hard into my ideas but here's what I have so far based on the Phantom Rider's debut.)

The Idea:

Everything pretty much stays the same up until Surge uses her powers on Phantom Ryder, but instead she fully destabilizes his helmet and exposes Sonic to the world.

Everyone is shocked, scrambling to come up with an answer. Just before anyone can truly react, Eggman, who was watching from his base, gives a tired sigh because he had a feeling that something would go wrong. Now it was up to him to swoop in and keep their plan on track. He hacks into the jumbotron, scaring and/or confusing everyone.

"I see that my little present to this charity event has finally been unwrapped!"

He goes into a spiel about how he was interested in the event, 'hurt' that he didn't get an invite, and how he didn't appreciate the mockery to his likeness. So he decided to enter with a racer of his own with a little help from the dearly departed Starline.

Surge and Kit's blood runs cold. Eggman boasts that he had captured and mind controlled Sonic to be his champion racer. And now he was going to give this event some real challenge and excitement.

All eyes are now back on Sonic and he's torn right in half. He can't go along with this! He couldn't let Eggman scare everyone like this! But Tails and Amy needed the distraction. He had to stick to the plan, however derailed it was becoming. But-

"Some of you may be in disbelief that I was able to accomplish such a dastardly feat in such a short time. If you have any doubts, consider the alternative: my longtime nemesis willingly used my gear to disrupt a charity event? Doesn't sound like the blue rodent you've all come to sickeningly adore, now does it? No, of course not! Meaning that the only explanation is that Sonic is now my loyal minion whether he likes it or not!

Isn't that right, my Phantom Rider?"

Begrudgingly, Sonic makes his choice.

And he laughs. A hauntingly evil laugh that even impresses Eggman as it sends chills throughout the crowd.

"Glory to the Eggman Empire!"

Eggman cackles. "Enjoy your little race! I know I will!"

At that point, Sonic takes the chance to flee for the time being while everyone's distracted by Eggman.

Now the game has changed for everyone. The Diamond Cutters are torn. Lanolin and Duo want to stop the Phantom Rider at all costs while Tangle and Whisper are insisting on saving Sonic.

This also causes Clutch and Jewel to start to butt heads. Jewel wants to cancel the event for everyone's safety, but Clutch wants to carry it on. He gives reasons about how they'll have more security on standby for when the 'Phantom Ryder' makes another appearance and if they cancel the event then they're showing the world that they're scared of Eggman (in reality he just wants to use it to his advantage). Jewel pretends to buy it, but in her mind she's having other thoughts.

Surge and Kit are at a loss. Surge tries to play it off like Sonic deserves to know what it feels like to be in their place, but both her and Kit are being eaten up inside for multiple reasons. Surge wants to laugh and make fun of Sonic. This should be the perfect poetic justice for him in her eyes. But she can't and she hates that she can't!

Meanwhile Sonic is pretty sure that things can't get worse. Sure, Eggman saved the plan but now Sonic's essentially being blackmailed into following the mind controlled narrative.

Now what was supposed to be a simple plan gets more complicated by the minute as circumstances keep changing and more and more people are dragged into this mess.

And that's all I got so far

[glassbxttless]

L&D Baby

Nurse!Steve Harrington x f!Reader

Summary: Steve and his wife are having their first baby— and it happens to be at the hospital he works at.

Word Count: 2.3k+

Warnings: 18+ (editing to add: no sexual themes, but I am literally an adult and do not want minors interacting with my content whatsoever), marriage, pregnancy, childbirth, mentions of a stillbirth, dad!steve, labor and delivery nurse!steve, blood/blood loss, swearing— as always let me know if there’s any tags i missed!

Notes: This is posted over on my ST blog ( @hellfirestxnes ). Once all of my content is moved over here— that blog will be inactive as my main objective is to have one space for myself!

Steve is tired. His bones are aching and his eyes are sore, but it’s just another Friday really. He has about half of his shift left and he’s off again, thankfully, until Monday. Leaning on the counter at the nurses station, listening to the other nurses gossip and share stories about their kids. And he’s thinking about you at home, sitting pretty and waiting for him to come home— belly swollen with his child. Any other day, he might tuck himself away and use the phone to call and check in, but today… he couldn’t face it. The first delivery he was on that morning, he watched a new mother wish with every fiber of her being that what the doctor was telling her wasn’t true. He cleaned up that baby, took their weight and height, made out the card for the parents that would never get to hear a cry. He bundled up gray, cold skin and hoped that the couple would be able to find peace. Somewhere deep down, he wishes he wouldn’t have heard them ask how did this happen? Everything was just fine this morning. But, now here he sits. Thinking about that delivery, thinking about his wife at home. His very pregnant wife. Your pregnancy has gone by so quickly, been such a breeze. He’s been to as many appointments as he could, especially the ones you were so worried about. But there’s always a reassuring answer of your baby being strong and healthy. A perfect little Harrington. And now, Steve’s never found himself more terrified. If everything can be fine and perfect one second and terribly tragic the next, he doesn’t know where to find his peace. He hangs his head against his hands for a few moments— taking a deep breath. He’s gotta get himself straight, take a few moments. But there’s hellos being exchanged a few feet away and after what seems like a millisecond, a hand is settling on his lower back. He snaps around, prepared to give the whole I’m married spiel he’s done a thousand times, he’s met with the beautiful eyes of his adoring wife. And that softens his features, he’s visibly relaxing.

You smile at him, as he tugs you into his grip. The hug lasts longer than usual and Steve loves hugging you. You rub his back and kiss his shoulder, “you forgot your lunch.” You whisper to him quietly, the bag in your left hand adorning a beautiful band that Steve had so carefully picked out himself. At your words, Steve’s grip just tightens a bit and he kisses your head, sighing out. “Do you wanna eat together?”

“Yeah, angel. Just about to take my break. come on.” he says quietly, leading you down to the cafeteria. He pulls out your chair and you can tell something is distracting him as he sits. He’s busying himself by passing out the food, but he’s quiet and normally— he isn’t. He asks about your day, tells you about his, has told you he loves you a dozen times by now. And he knows you’ve noticed, by the way his eyes flick up to yours and back down again. “I’m okay.” he says after catching the look on your face.

“You’re not.” you reply, matter-of-factly. “What’s going on, Steve? Can talk to me.” you reach over for his hand, thumb brushing over his own gold wedding band. “You’re not acting like yourself.”

Steve sighs heavily, flipping his hand over to take yours gently. “The first birth I was on this morning was a stillbirth and I dunno… just had me thinking a lot.” He explains, his eyes dropping down to your belly across the table. You nod slightly, the hand that wasn’t entwined in his moves to your belly. You’re almost due and neither you nor Steve have ever had to worry about this. Never had it been a thought in your head.

“Just want you guys safe, is all.” Steve says softly and gives your hand a squeeze before he’s pulling it away to eat his lunch with you. And when it’s time for him to get back to work, you stand. There’s a dull ache that starts in your back and wraps around to your tummy, it lasts about 30 seconds as you clean up from lunch. You ignore it as he hugs you tightly, pressing a kiss against your forehead. “I’ll see you at home, okay? Take it easy, rest.” He reminds you, rubbing up and down your arms.

“Yeah, okay.” You acknowledge him with a nod, before you feel another aching pain. But this time it’s accompanied by a slow trickle of fluid down your thighs. And when Steve notices where your eyes are falling, all of the hair on the back of his neck stands up.

“Oh.” Is all he can manage. He’s done this a thousand and ten times over the past few years. He’s consoled laboring mothers, he’s held their hands and cleaned them up, he’s been their support system. It’s his job. But here he is, with his own wife, frozen in his tracks. Your water broke and he can tell with the uncomfortable face you’re making the contractions have started as well. “Okay, angel… let’s… let’s get you checked in.” he says softly and suddenly, you’re more than thankful for the pre-registry packet Steve made you fill out last week. He holds your hand the entire time they check you in and get you into a room. He can hear his pager going off and he’d check it, every now and again, hoping one of the other nurses could pick up his patients, since he still technically was on his shift. But when he can’t put it off any longer, he kisses your head. “Listen, I’ll be right back okay? I’m not leaving you alone for this. I’ll be really quick.” he says softly.

You just nod, munching on the ice chips he had brought you not too long ago. You still feel like you have time. The contractions aren’t that close together yet. But Steve would throw a fit if they even tried to send you home and you know it. Steve smiles nervously when he wheels a cart into another expectant parent’s room. He introduces himself and shakes her husband’s hand when he extends it to him introducing themselves as, “Caleb and Connie Bear.” He's trying to keep the small talk up and keep himself calm— and not to think of his wife four rooms down. “Is this your first?” he asks softly, administering her medication.

“Oh no.” Connie laughs softly and shakes her head, “It’s baby number seven.” She pats her belly gently. Steve nods, a little lost in his own head. A mix of thoughts of the young couple a floor up with no baby to show, his wife laboring without him, and these friendly people working on their seventh baby. “It’s not as bad as you think.” she laughs, catching Steve’s face.

Steve laughs nervously and shakes his head, “oh no. it’s not that.” He smiles softly, “my wife and I wanted around six.” He shrugs, giving her a glass of water.

“You’ve got kids?” She smiles at him and gives his forearm a gentle squeeze as he adjusts her monitors. “You’re so young.”

“Uh… not yet.” He laughs softly and pulls her blanket back up over her. “My wife’s in labor now, actually. Not very far along yet and It’s our first, might have a while to go.” He rambled off nervously.

She smiles at him, a warm and comforting smile, and so does her husband. They remember those days. And Steve does find comfort in that smile. “These things take time.” She says softly, nodding at Steve. “but she’ll know what to do and I know you’ve seen a lot of babies being born but the minute you see yours, everything’s gonna change.” And Steve knows she’s right.

“Thank you.” he says softly. “I’ll be back in to check on you in a little while.” he dims her lights a bit, sighing softly as he steps out of the room and walks over to his station to chart his notes quickly. When he looks up and sees his mother-in-law, that’s when his panic starts to set in. He’s hurrying around the counter, biting the inside of his cheek. “What are you doing here?”

“Y/N called asking me to come, Steve.” She laughs, a sound that reminds him of you. “She knows you’re busy.” She gives his arm a pat and smiles at him. “She’s getting close, from what they’ve told her.”

“And she didn’t say anything to me?” Steve frowns, leading her over to your room. His face is knotted up in confusion when he looks over you. Your feet are planted on the floor, leaning over your bed. He sighs softly, knowing he should have been in here. He walks over, standing behind you to rub circles into your lower back.

“This is how we got into this situation.” You joke, face pressed against your sheets.

The response makes Steve chuckle, rolling his eyes, “oh hush. your mother is here.” He mumbles softly, rubbing your hips gently. “Where did they say you’re at, angel?” he asks softly.

“Eight.” You mumble back, letting yourself melt into Steve’s hands. They slide around to your belly, lifting gently and trying to keep the pressure off of your back in between contractions. “What do you think it’s gonna be?” You ask him, turning your head to catch a glimpse of him. You can see the worry etched into his features. But once he sees the way your hair is sticking to your forehead and how flushed and clammy your skin is— he softens.

“A girl.” He says softly. “Gonna be just as pretty as you.” He whispers softly, helping you switch positions and lie back on the bed quietly. Steve’s head perks up as he sees one of his co-workers take a quick peek in. “What’s up?” he mouths over to her. He watches her point down to her belt, signaling to the pager Steve has forgotten.

He sighs and kisses your head once more, rubbing soothing circles onto your arm. “I’ll be right back again, okay sweetheart? Your mama’s here. gonna take care of you while I’m gone.” He says softly and squeezes your hand before he’s ducking out and heading down to the Bear’s room, pushing the cot along quietly.

Connie smiles tiredly, having opted for an epidural at the last stage of her labor. Steve’s ready at her thighs, ready to pop the baby up onto her chest. His own head is occupied with the thought of missing the birth of his own child while he welcomes another into the world. His shift would be over soon and then he’ll be sitting at your bedside, holding your hand and keeping you healthy and happy. Supporting you throughout the entire transition of your labor. Caleb rubs soothing circles on Connie’s arm as she pushes, and Steve takes note of the love in the room. How much the two of them lean on one another.

And Steve’s breath hitches in his throat when he’s reaching over her thighs, with their newborn boy laying on her stomach. He’s helping rub the baby dry, eyes flicking up to the delivering doctor when no one hears any cries for just a few more moments. And Steve whispers, panicked, but full of hope, “oh come on, kid.” No one hears him, but Connie— and her eyes are on him as Steve tries his fucking best to coax a cry out of the baby. Even after suctioning his nose and mouth. He remembers the heartbroken looks on that young couple this morning and he couldn’t take it again.

And finally there’s a sigh of relief when the little one lets out their first big wail. Steve smiles watching as Connie holds their baby to her chest, tears welling up in her eyes. She gives Steve’s hand a squeeze, her face silently thanking him. And then as he’s walking away to fill out a stats card for their baby, Steve hears his name followed by someone shouting time to push. And he’s running. He’ll check back in later, but he’s not missing his baby’s birth. You’ve got the rails of the bed in your hands, gripping tightly as you push— and he’s finding your side and brushing back your hair. “I'm here, angel.” He’s whispering through your tears. “I’m here. Look at you. You’re doing so good, mama.”

And it’s a whole new feeling when Steve hears a cry before he even sees the baby. He can see the blood on your thighs as they lift the baby up to place against your chest. The tears in your eyes are falling as you look up at Steve. And he just presses a kiss against your forehead, sniffling back his own years. “You did it, angel.” he mumbles softly.

“Congratulations.” You hear through your OB’s big smile. “It’s a boy.” And then Steve laughs, his smile pressed against your hair.

“It's a boy.” you repeat, fingers brushing against the back of your baby's fresh soft skin. The quiet grunts coming from him fill the room as he roots around trying to latch onto your breast quietly. “Joseph.” You whisper and turn to look up at Steve, remembering the perfect name the two of you had spent the last eight months curating. “Joseph Steven Harrington.” You announce to your mother quietly. And Steve feels himself tear up a bit.

Nothing has ever felt like this before in his life. And once you’re squared away, he makes sure to thank his coworkers quietly. Appreciating every second of them covering his ass tonight. They all congratulate him for the beautiful baby, passing out hugs and offering advice. And Steve soaks it in, every single word of it. Soaks it in like his life depends on it.

tags ;; @peachyproserpina @eeopxlt