#if gwen were to make a move on him he would not push her away (moral compass be damned) but he will not interfere and hurt her like that

[justaz]

merlin, morgana, and lancelot bonding over their heartbreak at arwen happening right in front of their eyes. morgana proposes instigating a breakup, lancelot jokes about being morgana’s competition, morgana laughs in his face. merlin (tired) lightly scolds them bc breaking them up would just hurt them. morgana (exasperated) tells merlin to forget his moral compass for a minute and fantasize about getting their happy ending. merlin tells her that his happy ending is arthur being happy. lancelot (merlin’s best friend) teases merlin for being disgustingly besotted with arthur.

they pause. morgana offers venting their frustrations by sword fighting, merlin complains bc he Can Not hold a sword. lancelot offers poetry as a way to let their emotions out in a creative way, morgana groans that lancelot’s poetry is ass and she will have no part in it. merlin offers magic as a way to let out their feelings, lancelot reminds them that he can’t use magic.

they pause. lancelot questions if he can. merlin and morgana are intrigued. lancelot asks if they can teach him magic to see if he can use it. merlin and morgana are ecstatic and drag him away. they are happy.

[strangerstilinski]

𝙞𝙩 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙨 𝙖 𝙠𝙞𝙨𝙨

𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

word count: 2.5k warnings: none really, fluffy ending, steve is kind of a dick, mention of alcohol, gender neutral reader (pls let me know if i missed anything) based on that scene in tasm where peter spins gwen around to kiss her — with just a dash of enemies to lovers

It should go without saying that Steve Harrington is the bane of your goddamned existence. If the two of you aren't at each other's throats, it typically just means that you're both doing your best to pretend the other doesn't even exist.

And, sure, maybe it drives you a little bit insane that he seems to get along just fine with every person in your friend group except for you. It was like you pushed buttons that Steve wasn't even aware he had.

Nancy finds the whole thing amusing, says that Steve's clearly so in love with you that he doesn't know how to handle it. Eddie swears that Steve looks at you with hearts in his eyes, though any time you've caught his stare those ‘hearts’ tended to look a whole lot more like daggers. Argyle and Robin both insist that love and hate tread a very thin line, and eventually, a little push will have the two of you stumbling head over heels into each other's waiting arms. Johnathan tends to stay out of it, but then, he doesn't really need to say anything, because you've seen that look he gives you when he catches you looking a little too long at the moles dotted along the length of Steve's throat, or that stubborn lock of hair that tumbles over his brow bone, or the way his tongue pokes out and his eyes narrow cutely when he's concentrating-

You hate it. You hate Steve. Even now, you swear you hate him, regardless of the way you shamelessly ogle the curve of his bicep when he reaches across the back of the sofa to drape his arm loosely behind Robin's shoulders. You've accepted it. At this point, allowing yourself to admire his stupidly handsome physique was merely reparations for being forced to put up with him on a near-daily basis. Compensation for the never-ending bad attitude that he seemed to direct solely at you.

“Does anyone hear that?” Steve's voice speaks louder than your own suddenly, effectively cutting you off even though you'd been in the middle of a sentence. His eyes meet yours for just a brief second before his gaze is moving elsewhere, “It’s like, this annoying buzzing sound?” He's sitting up a little straighter following his interruption, brows drawing together like he's listening intently for something.

His sudden line of questioning has thoroughly derailed your train of thought. The longwinded story you'd been regaling to the group about a customer at work is cut short, the words dissolving on your tongue as your try to work out what on earth Steve is referring to. Until his interruption, you hadn't heard anything.

“What are you even talking abou-”

“There!” He cuts you off once more, “There it is again! Did you hear that, Robs?” The fingers he nudges into his best friend's ribs makes her squirm away with a deep laugh.

“Are you seriously implying that I'm the-”

“God, you are hearing that, right?” Steve interrupts with an irritatingly pleased grin on his face, “Like nails on a chalkboard-”

Though Robin's laughter isn't actually directed at you, your face burns hotly anyway. A pity-filled smile graces her lips when she meets your gaze after escaping the wrath of Steve's tickling, and the boy's chuckles of amusement only serve to make you grind your teeth together in irritation.

“Real mature, dickhead.” You snap, snatching up the beer you'd set down on the coffee table when Eddie had actually asked you about your day a few minutes before. “I was in the middle of a story.”

“Yeah, no offense, honey, but I don't think any of us were that invested hearing you talk about the ‘big tip’ that some douchebag with a hand tattoo left you.” Steve grumbled with a roll of his eyes, “If your stories weren't so boring, maybe we wouldn't all be sitting here hoping for a hole in the earth to open up under us just so we don't have to keep listening to-”

“Steve, c'mon man-” Eddie tries, though his voice is drowned out by your own.

“Jesus, do you have to be such an asshole all the time?” You snap in Steve's direction.

“I'm just saying,” Steve shrugged, “Probably the only reason he left such a big tip was because pulled the wrong bill out of his wallet. It sure as hell wasn't 'cause of your shining personality.”

“What, and just 'cause you're a jackass that means no man could ever possibly find me appealing?” You bite back.

“Yeah, well, your pretty face doesn't quite make up for your constant need for attention.”

“My need for attention?” You scoff incredilously, beer slamming back down onto the tabletop in front of you as the rest of your friends seem to fade even further into the background. “You're the one who can't stand when the focus is on me for ten fucking seconds.”

“Well I don't care if some prick hit on you at work-” Steve argues, “So, I guess, if that makes me an asshole-”

“It does, as a matter of fact,” You interrupt easily, “Because I'm constantly listening to you whine about your conquest of the week, and I'm able to do so without acting like a fucking-”

“Careful,” Steve hums, cocky little smirk reemerging on his lips, “You're sounding a little jealous, there, honey.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

“'S my house,” He returns just as quickly, “How 'bout you fuck off.”

The blood in your veins is full of fire. Your face is burning with rage and your eyes prickle traitorously with frustrated tears, because that customer from your story? That was the highlight of your day, because the rest of it had been a fucking disaster.

You'd slipped on freshly mopped floors and dropped an entire table's drink orders. You'd been forced to finish your shift with sticky, soda pop-soaked socks squelching wetly in your shoes with every step. Your boss had given you shit, even though it was one of your coworkers who had failed to put out the wet floor sign in the first place. You'd burned yourself on a hotplate, twice. And then, after all that, you'd had no choice but to take an ice-cold shower before heading over to Steve's house, because the hot water heater in your decrepit apartment building was apparently broken. Again.

“Y'know what? Fine.”

You're already rising to your feet, wiping the palms of your hands down your jeans to dry the lingering condensation from your beer. You blink furiously to push back the tears that had been pooling at your waterline, shaking your head at the ridiculousness of the turn in your evening.

“Wha-” Steve is watching you with something like concern in his eyes now, “Wh-Where're you goin'?”

“I'm leaving,” You announce, gaze steadfastly avoiding where Steve has removed his arm from around Robin's shoulders so he can sit at the edge of the couch, like he's planning to rise to his own feet at any moment. “I, um. I'll talk to you guys later.”

There are protests from everyone, but you don't bear them any mind. You're already turning on your heel and moving toward the entryway with hurried steps. The front door slams shut behind you before you've even gotten your jacket all the way on. You've still got one arm still struggling to find the hole of your sleeve when you hear the door swing back open behind you.

“Hey! Wait up.”

Steve's voice does make you slow where you've begun to move down the driveway, though you don't turn around. Your steps finally come to a stop when he calls out to you again.

“C'mon, honey wait, wait, wait-”

You blow out a frustrated breath as he finally catches up with you, your arms crossing over your chest like that might somehow put up a physical barrier between the two of you.

“I really don't want to do this with you, Harrington. Alright?” An air of defeat laces your words, one hand coming up to rub at the headache that’s begun to pulse between your brows, “Just.. Not tonight.”

You move to step around him and the heel of your boots click against the pavement once, twice. But then something hooks into the belt loop on your jeans and you're tugged back around. You lose your footing at the unexpected shift in momentum, knees wobbling unsteadily for just a moment before you're twirled back around to face him and then your palms are meeting a firm chest.

The adrenaline has your brain whiting out for just a moment, any and all thoughts screeching to a halt. There’s warmth seeping into your palms from beneath Steve’s tshirt. The racing of your own heart in your ears drowns out the distant sound of laughter and the opening trailers of a movie rental coming from inside. Your eyes are level with his chin, wide gaze locked on his lips as they quirk up at one corner with his gentle smirk. You’re still standing pigeon-toed between his own larger feet, a little off balance but held firmly in place by the wide hand splayed across your waist.

“I'm sorry.” Steve says quietly.

It’s only been a second or two since he dragged you back into his space, and to your surprise, his head dips, just a fraction. Steve brushes his nose against your own, a gentle stroke that sends butterflies in your stomach fluttering wildly. The cool mint clinging to his breath fans out over your face smelling of the gum he’s always chewing and smacking obnoxiously, but the scent this close is intoxicating. The hand he brings up to cradle your jaw is intoxicating. The loose flap of leather on his watch that tickles at the side of your throat. The way he’s leaning in-

The passion he kisses you with, from the moment your lips touch, is intoxicating. It's all-encompassing. You can’t think, and you’re not sure you’re even breathing, but his lips are moving in unhurried synchronization with your own. Your knees are weak. You’re gripping the material of his shirt in your fists just for something to hold onto, but Steve’s arm is curled tight around the curve in your spine now to hold you steady.

His tongue brushes against your lips, licking softly at the seam of your mouth like he's asking for permission. The desperate sound that crawls up your throat at just that quick brush of his tongue nestles in the depths of Steve's brain where he files it away for later. He hitches his arm even tighter at your waist, pulling your stomachs flush until your chest heaves against his own.

Your head is a little fuzzy when your lips separate long enough for you to take a breath, and you’re gasping comically in an effort to fill your lungs. Steve’s quiet chuckle meets your ears, his hand sliding back from your jaw to cup the back of your neck.

“You kissed me.” The words fall from your lips in a whisper of disbelief. Your eyes are still closed, lashes fluttering against the tops of your cheeks. You’re terrified if you open them even a crack, the entire scene will suddenly fade away around you like some kind of dream. The airy cadence of your voice is partially due to your surprise, but also thanks to the far-too-easy grace with which you've been spun and manhandled and swept entirely off your feet.

“I did,” Steve agrees just as quietly, “I did do that.”

His forehead meets your own as your eyes flutter open and he simply holds you there for a moment, nose dragging across your cheek before he presses another quick kiss to your lips. His head tilts, thumb stroking soft over the side of your throat before his mouth finds yours again, and again. These kisses are different — casual, tender, sweet and unhurried. Like he’s kissing you just because he can.

“You-” Is all you manage to get out before your words are silenced by his lips slotting between your own, but you carry on with barely a pause as you click apart once again, “Y'r still doing it.”

“Mhm.” He hums easily, the sound rumbling beneath your hands on his chest.

“Why-”

Kiss.

“Are you-”

Kiss.

“Kissing me?”

Steve’s breath mingles hotly with your own in the narrow breadth of space between your parted lips, “D’you want me to stop?”

“No. Hell no.”

And there's that perfect smile of his. Straight teeth make an appearance as his lips quirk up at the corner, a breathy spearmint scented laugh that sounds a little too relieved for the casual coolness that he's clearly trying to give off. His mouth opens like he's going to say something, but no words seem to come. Lips parted, throat bobbing as he swallows around the heavy silence weighing down his tongue.

He looks so pretty like this, you think. The light shining above your heads catches in his brown eyes, caramel sparking with flecks of gold and green that you've never noticed before, but you're sure you'll never be able to forget the sight of it now. You're still sharing breaths, faces so close that you can't avoid watching the way his full lashes blink at you dumbly. As if he isn't the one who spun you around and pulled you close and effortlessly gave you the best kiss of your entire life. As if, maybe, he didn't quite expect to make it this far, and now he's at a loss for how to proceed.

You release his shirt from your fist, the fabric crinkled and stretched with how tight you'd been gripping it, only to slide your hand up the back of his neck. The tip of his nose catches the bottom of your own, lips brushing faintly while your hand finds a new home in his hair. The soft strands tangle between your fingers when you give it a gentle tug and push up on your toes to draw yourself impossibly closer.

“If I'd known kissing you was all it took to shut you up, Harrington, I would've done it ages ago.” Your quip lacks its usual bite, but it breaks the silence between you, and it also seems to break Steve out of whatever spell he'd fallen under.

His tongue pokes out to wet his lips as he searches for an appropriate response, “Maybe we'll just have to keep kissing then.”

You find yourself swaying just a little on your feet at the way his eyes flick slow back and forth between your own, “Maybe we will.”

When his lips descend on your own again, it takes ages before he lets you back up for a decent breath of air, and even then he parts from you with obvious reluctance. You're both breathing heavy, lips a little swollen and shining wetly. Steve's expression has a warmth that you realize you've never actually seen directed at you before. Steve smiles at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and suddenly all you can think about is what Eddie has said a hundred times over.

It’s like there are hearts in his eyes.

[priniya]

okay, so i would like to request a theodore nott x reader where reader is like this kind of shy, studious type of girl and theo has had a crush on her for the longest time? like, he always sees her muttering the answers to professors questions and studying in the library and reading in every corner of the castle. maybe she gets dragged to a party by one of her more extroverted friends and ends up hiding away in the corner where theo comes and puts the moves on her?

i've read a few of your fics and adored them, you are such a good writer <33 if you can't get to this ask, i understand. i hope this finds your well <33

🗺️ SMALL WORLDS

synopsis. being an introvert pushed into a crowd of over extraverts isn’t what you imagined doing on a friday night. good thing that theodore nott seems to be the best extrovert you could ever find to be around.

notes. theodore nott x shy!reader. kind of high school!au

req. i’m like. so in love with that request. liz i love you. its all i needed in my life to feel completed. hope i exceeded ur expectations 🕺 also pride n prejudice reference??

oh.

theo didn’t expect to see you there. you were never a party person, you hardly ever went out to hogsmeade with your friends or paid attention to something that wasn’t your thrifted, muggle books. however now, you were standing all dolled up in the corner of the room, surrounded by gwen and betty, – who wanted to make sure you’d be okay on your own – anxiously scanning the common room, when the two girls left you.

something in his mind could tell him that the party wasn’t exactly your cup of tea, the huge, loud crowd you were pushed into was probably just giving you a hard time adjusting to the atmosphere. it wasn’t hard to notice as your eyes couldn’t focus on one thing, hands trembled and you were getting pale, so you had to sit on the emerald chair.

“it’s not nice to stare.” pansy nudged him in his ribcage teasingly, catching his attention almost immediately. his best friend had her arm wrapped around ginny weasley’s waist and a drunken smile spread over her lips. “go get ‘er tiger.” she added, watching him roll his eyes and walk somewhere.

maybe he stared a little. and maybe he made it a little too obvious — or obvious enough to get teased for it by his friends. he had to keep his cool or he would probably scare the shit out of you for being such a creep who just stared. not only at the moment, but also in class when you sit somewhere in front of him, or at the slytherin table.

and, to just make clear that theo has been interested in the curious creature you were, he even started coming to the library more often, staying there and pretending to read, when he couldn’t, so utterly distracted by the way your eyes move, or the way you have to take breaks to react to the book you’re reading, or the way you sometimes look his way, but look away the second you make eye contact.

theodore nott has never been a shy type of guy — overly confident, always hanging out with the elite, and looking above on everybody. or maybe that’s what everyone thought, because when he was to make a few steps in your direction, all the traits people knows him for were gone. he felt like a little kid, who wanted to ask his mom a big, important question, but couldn’t let it out of him.

his legs felt wobbly, making him as confused as it was possible. he’s never experienced anything like that over a girl who’s doubtlessly more into the book on her lap than she’d ever been into him. a stupid smile appeared on nott’s face the second you brought your gaze higher, falling on his lightly flushed face.

“uh, hi.” you struggled to let out, a little flustered that he came up to you like that. having closed the book, your gaze fell on his face one more time, analysing who you’re talking to, though it didn’t take too long to figure out it was theodore nott.

“hey.” he replied, shamelessly taking a seat next to you. for the fifteen seconds he was walking there, he thought about all the possibilities of conversation, but then? he just sat next to her silently for half a minute. “doin’ alright?” a question left his lips.

“i–, uh. kind of.” you lied, stuttering at the same time.

of course you knew theodore nott, who didn’t? he was a friend of mattheo and draco, a lacrosse player and a smart-talker. never studying, but always perfect on tests. and, in addition to top it all – undeniably handsome that keeping eyes off him was like a death sentence.

his eyes rolled in playfulness. “funny. you look more than just miserable.” the boy commented, his eyes fixated on your face as he speaks. “would you mind if i keep you company?” theo flashed you a cheeky smile and you just shook your head silently, watching him as he took a closer seat.

“you don’t have to speak.” nott added quickly, seeing a piece of distress at him keeping you company, and the way your hands gripped the cup you held. “you can just… act like you listen to whatever i’m sayin’, that’s fine with you?” his head tilted to the side waiting for a most likely short answer.

once you agreed or maybe it’s better to say once you didn’t refuse, he started rambling, rambling and rambling, trying so hard to make you laugh — chuckle, at least. oh and was he so proud of himself when he finally did. and minutes after that, you started replying to him more often, and god, it sent him to heaven, even though he was the one speaking much more, hearing you reply once in a while was enough.

the music was getting louder with each second, and he took you out for a walk, showing you around a little, because you were not exactly from that part of the town. “you smoke?” he asked, and he knew the answer immediately. you didn’t, but you nodded, waiting till he extends his hand with the pack of cigarettes.

you brought the cigarette to your parted lips, feeling his gaze on you. the motive for the whole smoking part was completely unknown to you — you never smoked, neither did you want to, but how could you ever say no to theodore nott, when he ditched the party to talk to you.

so… somehow, it led you to do what you can to impress him. you took a drag, feeling his eyes on you, and… started coughing so much you had to hold his arm for a few seconds to keep your composure. you could see theo trying his best not to laugh at your poor attempt at smoking. his teeth dig into his bottom lip as he bit back a smile, not wanting to make you feel bad.

“it’s better that way.” he nudged your side lightly, trying to cheer you up, seeing the embarrassment painting all over your face. “someone really doesn’t want you to smoke up there.” theo joked, making the corners of your lips curve a little upwards.

there was a comfortable silence between the two of you for some time, just walking around the town, enjoying each other’s presence until he finally decided to give it a break. “you’re not the type to party.” theodore stated, giving you a side glance. “lost a bet or something?” he asked, his left eyebrows lifted.

you walked beside him, hands laced behind your back as he asks the question. you couldn’t help but tilted your head slightly to the side to take a better view of him — of his sharp jawline, high cheekbones, those beautiful eyes of his and those lips— shit. you almost forgot he asked you a question and maybe even worse, noticed you staring.

“no.” he got a little head shake for an answer, before you found yourself revealing even more. “just promised my friends i’d go out with them.”

to theo, it sounded like something you’d do. even though he hardly ever spoke more than few words to you, he’s been perceptive and watching you in class was something he did most of the time, the reason behind it? his crush fell too deep to not continue looking for an opportunity to make a move.

“mhmm.” he mumbled under his breath, turning his face to look at you, a smile creeping onto his lips. “to be fair, despite the visible discomfort on your face, you look real pretty.” theo gave you a cheeky smile, before adding. “though, comfort looks so much better on you.”

shit. this motherfucker. his smooth way with words got you blushing from the top of your head down to your toes. before you could even stutter an answer, you felt the fuzzy insides of his coat on your shoulders. it felt so unreal yet so realistic at the same time. were you dreaming? you wish you weren’t.

“is it really that visible?” a soft sigh has left your lips, stopping in your tracks to look at him. “nah, just if someone has been paying attention to you before, they’ll notice.” the boy shrugged, your cheeks growing even hotter.

he’s been paying attention to you. theodore nott, the slytherin, has been paying enough attention to you to notice how uncomfortable you were in gwen’s dress. his cheeky smile got even cheekier as you were processing everything in your mind, the two of you standing in front of each other in the middle of the pavement.

your lips were slightly parted as you tried to think of something to say without embarrassing yourself more. you didn’t even catch the moment when he leaned a little closer until the two of you were inches away. “theo…?” a quiet whisper escaped your lips, your head tilted upwards to look at him.

“i’ve been infatuated with you for a while now.” confessed theodore, your breath hitching in your throat. what now? “it’s not the ‘i like you’ talk, it’s the mr. darcy’s ‘you’ve bewitched me, body and soul’ talk. i’m not myself when you’re not around.” his words are like honey on your ears, his hand finding yours, your eyes never leaving his.

“you like jane austen?” you giggled, accidentally interrupting his confession.

“y/n.” he groaned. “please, can i kiss you? i don’t think i’ll be able to breathe without it.” theo seemed desperate, but you couldn’t mind, it was theo who wanted to kiss you, the guy you always stared, when no one looked, the only guy that ever appeared in your dreams.

it took him just a small nod from you to lower his head and crush his lips into yours. at first, you could feel all the emotions he wanted you to feel — the desperation, the need, and the happiness that came with finally being able to kiss you. his fingers found its way to your hair, pulling you even closer as your lips moved against his so perfectly.

if it wasn’t for your fist that gripped the fabric of his collar, you’d probably pass out from the sensation of his mouth on yours. you had to break out for a few seconds to catch some air, but this time — you were the one who kissed him, standing on your tiptoes, kissing him like your life depends on it. he tasted like the liquor he had drunk before you two got away, and menthol cigarettes.

his forehead is resting against yours, after the two of you finally pull away yet so slightly. “were you for real?”

“i have never been as for real as i am right now, y/n. if being so enamoured with you was a crime, i’d be facing lifetime.”

[tvgals]

‘ BARBIE WORLD ! ‘

the spider teen group w a black barbie reader !!

MILES MORALES —

he was stunned that he pulled you to say the least

imagine when he took you home..

you and miles stand outside of his parents apartment. “and make sure you don’t call them by their first names, they hate that!” miles tells you, biting his bottom lip when he sees you knocking on the door. “i know, miles. i’m not disrespectful!” you giggle, hearing the door unlock. you’re met face to face with a brown skinned woman with her curly hair braided, laying on her shoulder. her face seems to light up when she sees the two of you. “miles!” she beams, engulfing him in a hug, when she pulls away and turns to you, she brings her hands to her chest and smiles. “and you must be y/n! miles talks so much about you!” she says, you smile and look at miles, his face flushed with embarrassment. “these are for you, mrs morales!” you grin, handing her the bouquet of azaleas. “for me? thank you so much!” she thanks you, softly grasping the stems and welcoming you two in. you see miles�� dad sitting at the table, scrolling though his phone. “dad!” miles blurts out, waiting to get his attention. once he looks up, his eyes go wide. “who’s that?” jeff asks, looking around the room just in case this was some prank.

“dad, this is my girlfriend y/n.” miles sheepishly grins, you sending a happy wave his way. jeff stares for a moment. his awkward, teenage son, was able to get a girlfriend like you? no way! “jeff, don’t just stare at the poor girl!” rio laughs. this was gonna be a long night .

HOBIE BROWN —

he loves it

the opposites attract always gets me !!

hobie watched you as you struggled to put on your favorite pair of pink chunky heels onto your feet, your annoyed groans ringing out the room. “baby!” you yell out into the apartment, hoping your boyfriend would just walk in and put your shoe on for you. you think for a second. you’ve worked multiple engineering jobs as an intern, you’ve studied multiple languages and worked many jobs, and you’re currently letting a shoe disrespect you? hobie walked in and bit back a smile at your determined face.

“love, let me help-“ hobie is cut off with a stern, “no” from you, putting your manicured hand up to stop any movement from him getting closer. “princess, just let me help.” hobie chuckles, crouching onto the floor next to you. “no! i can do it by myself. i am a strong, independent woman!” you sputter out, pushing your foot into the shoe. “bam.” you say, looking at hobie’s smiling face. now onto the next shoe.

PAVITR PRABHAKAR —

he lovessss your style

definitely helps you with makeup

“pavi!” you call out to your boyfriend, who was casually hanging off of a web from the ceiling. “yes?” he calls back to you, flipping onto his feet and walking into the bathroom where you were applying your false lashes. “baby, will you go to the mall with me?” you ask, fanning your hand in front of your eyes to dry the lash glue.

“of course! why would i say no to a pretty girl like you?” pavitr says, walking behind you and resting his chin on your head. “pavi, i need to talk to you.” you say, your tone serious and solid. pavitr gets worried, he’s never heard this tone from you like this, not so..strict and firm. “oh no…what is it?” pavitr mumbles, trailing his hands onto your waist, now moving his head to rest in the crook of your neck.

“it’s very important, like i’m talking end of our relationship if you say the wrong answer, important.” you warn him, pulling lipsticks out of your makeup bag. “now you’re scaring me.” pavitr chuckles. “what is it?” you look at him through the mirror and hold up two lipsticks, “rose red or like a light pink?” you ask, turning to actually face him. “jeez, y/n! you can’t scare me that way!” pavitr giggles, dramatically holding a hand over his heart. “but definitely rose red.”

GWEN STACY —

gwen watches you style the wig on the mannequins head, walking over to take a better look. “what are you doing?” she asks you, watching you shimmy the hair curler from the dark brown wig. “styling my wig for this party tomorrow. wanna help?” you ask, inviting her to sit down in the chair in place of you. gwen sits down and you hand her the curler, placing your hand on top of hers.

“so you gotta put the hair into this little part right here and hold it there for like…eight seconds for looser curls. that’s how i like mine.” you shrug, watching her face contort in concentration. when gwen let’s go, a perfect curl emits from the curler, you smile and give her a hug.

“see? you’re a natural!”

TAGLIST ; — @venusluvslove @kisminarii @xricly @ohsanghoe @conniesbbymama @6olar @cupids-soul @sza-luvrrr @gobblethiskitty @lovedsolana @maniacvell @stellabunniii @theyfwkayla14 @radicaledward55 @bbytamaki @princess-hellokitty @hellomyearthlings @eva7ari @draculara-vonvamp @jared-oranges

[kiss-me-muchoo]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 || 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎’𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Summary_ He pushed you away some time ago. You forgave him, but Miguel realizes intentions don’t mean much and he wants you back.

Warnings_ age gap! (I’m 20, Miguel is around 28-31, bear with me), angst, fluff.

A/N_ this is The Craving from Twenty One Pilots, I loved the new album. and imgonnagetyouback from Taygod Swift, BOTH IN MY MIGUEL PLAYLIST🩷

♪ ♫ My Miguel O’Hara playlist ✰ Index (+ fics here)

_____________

Waves of silence crash all over the Spider Society. Miguel O’Hara had just told Miles Morales that he had to let his father die to protect canon. Your guts twist in an odd feeling, you feel a bad omen. The chase had been tough, your insecurity playing with your head as you knew Miles had the right to choose his destiny.

Canon had been fair with you, offering you light problems compared to others. So you wished every spider had the same destiny as yourself.

Now seeing that Miles was gone thanks to the “Go Home Machine”, you couldn’t let Gwen to follow the same path.

“Miguel… you can’t send Gwen home. She’s vital for this.” You say quickly stepping up against the man who was intimidating the sixteen-year-old girl.

“I don’t need more problems than we already have. I restate… she’s a liability” Gwen pleads you with scared eyes. You gasp, running out of options to calm the angered man.

“You gave me a second chance too, I was once a novice like her” Miguel huffs, looking at you with much impatience.

“Yes, and you learned from that, never committing an error again.” Gwen is picked and caged inside the machine, she starts panicking and you too. In an act of desperation, you grab Miguel from his forearm, making him turn to look down at you. His crimson-red eyes stare at you with such hostility that you know you have to be careful to choose the right words.

“This is not right. You are not thinking clearly. Miles and Gwen deserve better” Your gaze moves between him and Gwen, hoping Miguel would agree and let the girl stay.

“Miguel, please…”

“THIS IS ABSURD, Y/N!… CANON HAS GIFTED YOU WITH MUCH LUCK, YOU CAN’T EXPECT EVERY PERSON HERE TO RUN WITH THE SAME FATE. BE REALISTIC, RESPONSIBLE, AND INTELLIGENT FOR ONCE!” As he attacks, Gwen is gone. Another round of silence invades the place, but this is worse. Your eyes open in shock after hearing Miguel.

He can’t be fixed. He won’t change. It’s time to go and follow what you think it’s correct.

You eye Jess and Peter, they seem like they have some things to say but remain quiet.

Miguel finally looks delicately at you and notices your eyes are watering. The awkwardness is very loud, your blush letting everyone know you are embarrassed.

You won’t say anything about it. You just look back at Miguel for a second, before opening a portal in your gizmo, doing the same as Hobie Brown did; quitting.

“I really thought you would get it…” Your gizmo fell to the ground as you disappeared, the screen of it cracking and leaving Miguel a little stunned by your decision. He sighed, knowing he had screwed it, but confident that his intentions were correct.

That night, after a quick patrol, when you returned home, you took a quick shower to wash away all the pain and bitter taste of the day you had. But when you came back, there was a little present wrapped in newspaper that wasn’t from your earth. You unwrapped it, revealing a homemade gizmo. You grabbed the little note attached.

We need you

-Hobbie

You would do things right. And you didn't care if you had to fight with old friends or colleagues. Especially Miguel.

…

The seasons had changed so fast. By the time summer ended, the leaves were already drying and many people had left, by winter and the snow falling over, others came back. But you stayed the same.

You had the same suit, with upgrades and chrome instead of golden details, but it was the same. Your earth was well controlled, with no sign of the villains that used to terrorize your city. All the smiles you offered were the same. All the laughing with Peter B. Parker, Hobie, Gwen, Pavitr, and Miles was the same. Yet, something had changed between you and Miguel O’Hara.

The man knew the perspective people had of him would change after the events of last summer when he put the lives of Miles and many others at risk. He let his fears win and while he tried to protect everything, he was only pushing it towards the edge, dooming the fate of the multiverse. You were on his side at the beginning, claiming that canon was sacred and couldn’t be changed. But the image of Miles, his face full of fear and anxiety, unsure and terrified of his future. He was a kid, he had no idea of anything. He made you question if canon events could change. Either way, the kid was more than enough to draw you worried. Destiny could be wrong, so you decided to help Miles. Your decisions had consequences? Yes. The moment you left the building of the Spider Society, you started to miss everything. In your mind, you were almost assured Miguel didn’t care about you, but deep down, your heart said the opposite. Ending with a drift that seemed invisible at the beginning. But now, a year later, it was more than clear.

The change was something you could get used to. Your work remained the same, with Jess and Peter. B Parker. Your missions only turned more fun with the addition of Miles and Gwen permanently returning like you. Gatherings at Peter’s each Saturday remained the same. But all the awkwardness of the spiderverse invaded you when Miguel O’Hara came into the picture.

After all, you two had gone on a date the day before you met Gwen at her earth while capturing the Renaissance vulture. He asked you out, and you said yes. It was a lovely afternoon and he even visited your home. What started as a mentorship from him, blossomed into a friendship and then as a “almost something”. Which hurt worse.

It all started with you walking away. Briefings were cautiously heard by you, even staying after for further questions. Jess asked you to hand the mission details to everyone when Hobbie and Miles came to talk about a concert you were going to with Gwen and Margo when Miguel came and started asking about a new gizmo coming soon. Everyone noticed you grew quiet and soon after you were gone.

Then, you stopped asking to go on missions with him, Ben, and his usual party. When you were recruited, Miguel was annoyed but pleased to have you along. It happened that one day, you blew things off accidentally, making him extremely angry. Your web shooter failed and you almost missed it to save a baby. Nonetheless, you quickly were ranked higher thanks to your abilities.

All of your friends could see how your small friendship with your boss had suddenly evaporated. And Miguel couldn’t blame you. After all, he was the one yelling in your face when you argued in favor of Gwen when she was sent home. Miguel could remember he almost made you cry, leaving you completely embarrassed in front of everyone. He felt terrible seconds after you left, but he soon went to the earth of Miles with Ben and Jess. Eventually, when the man learned you were silently helping the kid and the ones who had left his side, he didn’t say anything. In the final moments, Miguel knew he had to side with the teenager and help to get rid of The Spot. And when the chaos was over, he wished he had the right to celebrate it with you.

The aftermath changed him, over the months, he even thanked you for trying to make him see the reality from the beginning, and he apologized. But that night, he understood that you had forgiven him, but remained hurt.

Either way, Miguel had to deal with the consequences of his acts and sort the way things would work for the sake of everyone’s canon. Yet, in the middle of the night, he constantly remembered you.

Out of nowhere, Miguel O’Hara was accepting that he missed you. And acknowledging that fact, only made him accept he had some feelings towards you. Which scared him for sure. But after losing his daughter, almost losing all he had built for spiders like him, after feeling so isolated, Miguel lounged to have a partner. He craved the love of someone. And had found it. He just wished he had done things differently.

Jessica knew Miguel so much that she easily solved the mystery. On a random Monday, she bombarded him with questions that soon made Miguel spit out he was attracted to you. She suggested the man slowly try to talk to you. Nothing was lost, there was hope. The woman had her theories about you never getting over that crush on Miguel. She often had caught you staring at him, staring too much for later to avoid him. Jess knew you were protecting your own heart.

“Miguel?” She asks.

So there he was, Miguel was sitting in the cafeteria, taking a big bite of his empanada de picadillo. He could taste the shredded beef, potato, carrot, jalapeños, and mushrooms freshly mixed with spices.

“Yes?…” The insides of the empanada are burning his tongue and he doesn’t mind.

“I asked if you assigned today’s missions?” He nods. With a quick glance at his surroundings, he huffs at the sight of the hamburger with the face of his mask still being served. The cafeteria is full and he hates all of the voices speaking at the same time. He has to wear sunglasses because the place is full of light, and it hurts his eyes. Why is everyone still eating a hamburger with his mask on the bun?

“Are we lunching here because perhaps you want to see when a certain female spider appears?” Miguel rolls his eyes. Some days, he loves Jess and knows about his feelings for you because she grants him free therapy. But other days, he hated it because Jess knew how to mess with him. Like now…

“Oh…Hi y/n!” Miguel looks at Jess panicked, but soon feels relived that his sunglasses are dark enough to cover his blown wide eyes. You appeared there. Upside down, of course, Miguel notices how your hair hangs freely, and he isn’t sure if it’s longer, or it’s just the gravity.

“Hey, Jess. I just came to drop this file with Miguel. Lyla said he wasn’t in his office” You say calm. He notices you have your mask on, but you’re definitely not looking at him. He takes the folder from your hand and stays there looking at you. You seem awkward but remain relaxed.

“That’s from my morning patrol, you asked for a report. I’m leaving with Hobbie and Pav now…” you add. And you can see how Jess keeps glancing back and forth between you and Miguel. Was she hiding something from you?.

“Okay… guess I’m leaving now…” you only sigh when no one answers.

“Get back safe, please,” Jess says as you are already far away from them.

“Thanks” you answer without looking back. Soon you open a portal at the entrance of the cafeteria and you’re gone. That’s when Jess comes back to her friend, side-eyeing him.

“Really? You couldn’t even say ‘thank you” or “good luck”?” Miguel sighs, dropping his empanada and relaxing his shoulders. He knew he had to say things to you to get back to normal.

“I know… I just… I don’t know how to start this” Jess smiled. In the end, even when Miguel was a 6’9 tall man with the title of founder of the Spider Society and creator of the Gizmo, he was a silent and certified emotion avoider.

“She forgave you for last summer and all. But this is now, she’s also awkward about you. She’s also unsure if you want to talk to her…” Miguel leaned closer, interested and equally anxious.

“She said that?” Jess shrugged while taking a bite of her French fries.

“It came out very vaguely. But for sure she’s also a mess for you”

“What? Did she also say that?” Jess giggles at him, only sipping from her soda.

“Maybe you could start sending flowers or letters, Romeo” Miguel huffs, wondering if his friend actually knew something or not.

Jess wanted to lock you two in a room and hopefully, when she opened the door, Spiderman 2099 would have a prospective lover.

…

With another college semester ended and a driving anxiety, summer was a relaxing time for you to spend in your room. Painting your toenails, you were singing at your CD player playing one of your favorite songs. Your family was gone, so you could be letting your feet dry walking upside down in your ceiling. Suddenly, your gizmo beeped and it was a deleted message from Miguel. You frowned and almost screamed. Probably he sent something to you by accident and then he deleted it. But you had an omen. So you called Jess, she answered with a long and mean “what?”, she must’ve been watching some movie with her husband.

“Miguel sent me a message and proceeded to delete it before I could read it?” You didn't mean to sound so fast and desperate, but you did.

“Slow down, girl. But… he deleted it?” Actually, she had been sleeping, her toddler being a little bolt that demanded a lot of her time even with her husband there.

“Exactly… Odd, Right?”

“Coming from Miguel? Sure it is. But… I think it’s time you try to talk to him too, y/n. Maybe he’s awkward about what happened last summer and doesn’t know how to approach you” Jess wants to scream that Miguel likes you too, but she can’t ruin it.

“ I feel like Miguel doesn’t even care I distanced myself from him. But when I see him, my heart starts beating so fast, and my hands sweat.” She laughs and lets out a long “eww”.

“You hide it very well. But you’re very cold, it doesn’t help. I have to admit you also might need to try….”

“Jess, I’d end up bursting out that I’m in lo-“You immediately stop, Jess lets out a surprised groan.

“MISS Y/N, YOU LOVE HIM?”

“Goodnight, Jessica” You go straight to bed, ignoring the deleted message and everything regarding Miguel.

But Jess and her questions keep popping up in your head.

Could it be possible that you were actually in love with Miguel?

…

“So my teacher said my essay was lacking everything, it was marked with red all over,” Miles says walking beside you, both of you are done for the day with the missions. You were almost infected by some poisonous lizard that was haunting earth-2407.

“Did you actually make the corrections?”

“I did-“ you side-eye him.

“Well, not all of them but-“ you two are just walking around with no destination secured. So when you two pass by the training center, Miles literally pushes you towards the stairs that lead to the balcony of said center. He gestures to you to keep hushed before turning to see the couple speaking; Miguel and Jess.

“We shouldn’t be hearing them” you remind him, not wanting to get caught, especially by Miguel.

“Jess banned me from the 10th floor because I was disturbing everyone. Gwen was with me and she received no punishment, bro” the teenager whispered. At sixteen, Miles had grown impossibly taller, almost like Peter B. Parker and Noir. Even Gwen was taller, everyone was taller. But at least you weren’t the same height as Penny or Peter Porker.

“Maybe because Jess is training her yet?”

“So? That’s nepotism” You want to laugh but he shushes you again. So you turn to see Miguel and Jess training.

The man was extremely sweating and Jess too. You never reached the same level of training simulations as them, thinking it was unnecessarily violent and fast-paced.

“Keep Gwen and Miles out of my lair. I’m tired of catching them trying to make new suits from themselves”

“They don’t even know how to work the machine, relax” the woman bites back.

“So? It’s annoying”

“It’s also annoying that I have Lego Spiderman and y/n printing random pictures at my office” The mention of your name makes you blush, remembering the print of Peter B. Parker with a big red font saying “Have you seen this man in your dreams?” It was very funny among the coworkers and every time Peter saw it, he would start complaining from all the bullying he had to endure.

“Don’t get y/n on this. I can’t even stand her now” You swear you can feel your heart shattering. Miles turns to look at you, encountering your sad expression.

“Y/n…” the boy tries to soothe you, but you just shake your head.

“I think I’m going home, Miles” you whisper to him, leaving soon after.

Your eyes water as you walk away from the training center, many fellows stare confused at your sadness. But you ignore them as you open a portal towards home.

And when you are in the safety of your earth, you are not ready to go to your pillow to cry. So you start swinging between skyscrapers and buildings just to clear off your mind.

You knew it was a mistake from the beginning to start developing feelings for Miguel O’Hara. Then he invited you to that damn date. Such a fun day till he had to yell in your face that you were privileged and shouldn’t be stupid ignorant. Now he seemed to have left the issue behind, after his apology. And you forgave him, even letting your feelings for him float around. But if he didn’t want you back at the society? Why did he call? Why did he offer the gizmo again?

He was an asshole.

Meanwhile, Miles stayed a little longer, hearing more of the conversation.

“Just tell y/n to stop using my printer” Jess pleaded.

“Nah, I won’t tell her,” Miguel says smirking. The woman training with him rolls her eyes annoyed.

“Just because she’s your impossible crush doesn’t mean she can have the privilege to print stupid things at my place” Miles gasped, thinking what Jess said was a joke.

“You can use my printer, so I don’t have to say anything to my girl,” Miguel said and Miles was officially shocked. He had to tell you everything the next day.

…

Two days later, the overheard talk is somehow forgotten. Miles tries to mention it occasionally but you brush him off. You have your head centered on Mayday, the two-year-old toddler walking beside you across the hallways of the Spider Society. Peter completely trusted you to leave his child with your babysitting.

“Where did you leave your ribbon, Mayday?” The little girl giggles. She has a dress of flowers and sneakers, making her look very adorable with her long disheveled hair.

“Don’t know” she babbles. Peter would be mad since it was the third pair being lost in the week.

Mayday clumsily waddles, giggling as you keep searching around for that ribbon. Even though the floors are mysteriously always clean and shiny, you can’t see the damn ribbon.

When you walk slightly away from the little girl to look down on a bench, you hear a little yelp from her and when you turn back, you see Mayday on the floor and then she starts crying.

“Oh fuck me…” you whisper, running to grab the kid and start calming her. You carry her in your arms as you sit on the bench.

“It’s okay, Mayday. It was only a little slip, but you are okay” She starts hearing your voice and her cries turn to sniffles, feeling protected when you hug her and gently brush her hair.

“Daddy won’t like looking at you crying. He wants to see you laughing and happy. You are fine, see?” The kid nods brushing away the tears.

“Now give me a smile. You were very brave!” mayday smiles brightly and you chuckle.

“That’s the Mayday I know!” The kid laughs at your way of entertaining her. When you turn towards the hallway to see if Peter is back, you almost drop Mayday again.

Miguel was there, looking at the interaction.

“I found the ribbon,” he says walking towards you and the girl. His expression is very neutral, and you can’t see the way Miguel’s hand is shaking slightly.

“Miguel!” Mayday greets the tall man with a smile, asking him to be in his arms. They both had grown closer. After all, Miguel had been around Mayday since she was born. You appeared when Mayday was 10 months old.

“Hey, kid” you let him take the girl, then you accept the ribbon from his free hand. You barely touch him but your lungs are dry and your stomach is a mess like a powerful tsunami. Nonetheless, your face shows the contrary.

“Thanks. Peter was growing annoyed by how many ribbons this little girl had missed.”

“I know. And you handled very well the situation back there…” he admits, recalling the little slip of Mayday. Miguel sees a little blush in your face, it lights up his hopes.

“Thanks…” you awkwardly say, standing up to try to reach the little girl.

Miguel leans slightly to let you tie the ribbon on Mayday’s hair and he’s able to smell your perfume of figs and brown sugar. He also sees the little golden seashell pendant hanging on your necklace. He smiles when he realizes you are avoiding his gaze. And when you’re done, both stare at each other, with many questions, but silence reigns. Both of your hearts racing with a tormented passion.

“Y/n… I feel like we need to talk about-“

Miguel grows quiet when Peter appears running in the middle of the hallway.

You don’t even catch what he said, you turn relieved to see Peter was back.

“Oh boy, we are late for her passport appointment. M.J.’s gonna kill me” You giggle at his drama. Miguel is still there behind you, he rolls his eyes making Mayday laugh.

“She will understand. And thanks for the ribbon, Miguel” The little girl is back in his father’s arms and you quickly start following them, too nervous to stay with Miguel alone.

The man just stays there seeing how you leave, and he sighs, taking a long breath. His intentions are not enough. His little efforts are nothing to reach you, it makes the craving he feels to be corresponded by you even bigger.

As for you, you feel a great heartache. Half of you feel very nervous, because it seems like some days Miguel wants to talk to you, and other days he wants to say he’s tired of you. What a confusing and fucked up situation.

…

He gives two steps forward, like five steps back. Miguel is standing at the entrance of the terrace in the building of the Spider Society, debating whether to go and talk to you or not. He even prepared a few things to say, hoping to not scare you away, more than you already were. While he knew he couldn’t just scream out he was in love with you, he could try to mend the breach built between you two.

It’s getting late in Earth-928, and a lot of spiders are leaving their home. It’s Saturday and a lot of them have plans with their families, partners, and friends. Miguel is set to have another lonely weekend doing some patrol. But for now, he’s still there, watching you seated on the rooftop of the building, eating some chicken and avocado tacos from the cafeteria. Miguel wants to laugh when he catches a glimpse of some avocado dropping from your taco. You set the plate aside and look down, letting out a little “yikes”, Heaven knows what or who would end up getting a piece of avocado from the sky.

He’s not ready. Miguel curses himself for being a big overthinker. He’s able to fight the most callous and evil villains from different dimensions. But he’s unable to say “Sorry, I was an asshole. Can we try it again?… Oh, and I love you”. Perhaps it was his anxiety or panic, but Miguel swears his gizmo beeped, so he walks away, going down the stairs, feeling his heartbeats returned to normality.

Each step he takes is filled with greetings, comments, warnings, notices, and more from different spiders. He sends spider plushie and Penny to work in a minor anomaly and finally, he closes the door of his office.

There’s a mess of papers around. Miguel suddenly remembers someone… Gabriella. He’s happy that his trauma is slowly fading away. He was officially healing and had accepted his daughter had also forgiven him. Miguel could rest knowing his errors were sealed.

And just as he was about to play some of the recorded memories he had, Lyla appeared.

“The whole gang is coming” she blurted out with her usual cocky smile.

“Tell them I’m busy, Lyla”

“But they’re already here” The AI had a new pair of fucsia heart sunglasses and coat. Which seemed to have made her more stubborn. Miguel sighed, turning off his monitors.

“MIGUEL!” the man heard the annoying voice of Peter B. Parker and sighed. When he turned around, he saw the whole club; Peter without Mayday, Hobie, Pav, Margo, Miles and Gwen.

“What is it now?” he looks down at them from his platform and is already irritated by their presence. Even after a year of changes, they were a group of teenagers and Peter.

“Well… uh-“ Gwen starts, but soon pushes Peter forward, encouraging him to speak up instead of her.

“Uh… Miguel, we know you hate us for wandering about your private life and we respect it. But we feel like you need to talk to y/n about her position here.” As Peter talks, he has Miguel’s whole attention.

“And why is that?” He sounds reluctant, but he grows anxious.

“She said she doesn’t feel the same as it was when she was recruited. That you confuse her with your behavior towards her” Margo answers for Peter, with a better choice of words, of course.

“As the leader of this team, we just want you to remind her that she’s welcome and that you want her here. Because you want her here, right?” Peter adds, Miguel crosses his arms.

He needs you, actually.

“I’m not sure I’m the most adequate person to tell her that,” Miguel replies.

“Oh, you have to be kidding. She heard you and Jess. At the training center…” Gwen speaks again, Miguel is shocked, even terrified of you hearing you were his girl.

“How much?” Miguel asks with that well-known tone of anger and fully intentional intimidation.

“Well…” Peter said.

“HOW MUCH?, POR DIOS!” Miguel yelled exasperated.

“She left when you said you couldn’t stand her,” Miles confirmed to him, making him sigh. Trying to get you back was only getting trickier than expected.

“Yeah… I don’t think chicks want to be neglected twice” Hobie speaks for the first time, mocking Miguel.

“Hobbie, not helping here” Margo scolds him whispering.

“At least I’m trying to pull one out” Miguel fires back making everyone bite their tongue to avoid laughing. Because Hobbie Brown didn’t have the best history search with girls.

“Hey no, stop. The point here is that you need to talk to her. I accidentally heard everything” Miles speaks up, walking forward toward Miguel.

The man only pinches the bridge of his nose, cringed that the teenager had to listen.

“I’m pretty sure she feels something too” Miguel hated that Miles had to be a wise kid, frequently reminding him of his errors and making him realize there were always other options.

“She must hate me.”

“No, y/n just needs to know how you actually feel” Gwen encouraged him, and unconsciously, Miguel was being pulled towards the exit.

“I couldn’t speak to M.J. for a very long time after we divorced. And I had nothing to lose, I just knocked on her door with some flowers. Look at us now… y/n will know too” Miguel thought Peter could be the goofiest man he ever met, but he was his friend. So maybe he could accept his advice.

“Va pues, don’t know why I’m listening to all of you” huffing, Miguel and the group were out, except for Hobbie, who stayed behind stealing things from Migue’s lair.

…

When you open your door, you gasp shocked. Miguel is there, he’s wearing a sweater that fits him a little too tight but nice, dress pants, and tied shoes. You rarely saw him without his suit. But that isn’t all, he has a pretty bouquet of lilies in his hand.

“I’m sorry.” He says and you are already making a pout.

“Miguel…”

“Let me finish, please.” He interrupts you, so you nod, stepping out of your place.

“I’ve made some mistakes, but as the son of a mother and… and-“ you start giggling and Miguel is red like a tomato.

“Let me guess… Peter gave you a speech to say to me?” Miguel tilts his head.

“Yes and… I-… mierda. See, I’m sorry, I don’t want you to leave the Spider Society. I need you. And I still feel guilty for last summer. But if you give me another chance… I swear that I will give you more than I take away” You nod, smiling. Miguel sighs relieved. To his surprise, you grabbed him by the sweater and pushed him towards you to give him a big kiss on the lips. He reciprocates immediately, smiling in between.

“I’m in love with you” he admits, his forehead kissing yours.

“I’m in love with you too, Miguel” As both of you kiss again, chants and applauses start. When you step away from Miguel, you see your friends there, passing past you and Miguel to step inside your home.

You are extremely confused.

“We were here the whole time, FYI,” Margo says as Miles, Gwen, Pav, and Noir pat your back and step inside.

“I’m so happy for you both. I can’t wait to have a double date. You two, M.J. and I” Miguel rolls his eyes at Peter.

“What did I miss?” You ask Miguel. Not that you mind that your friends literally invaded your home, but it was just weird.

“They wanted to help me”

“Aww, we have such good friends,” you say smiling.

“They’re not my friends. I just tolerate them” he is lying of course. You grab his hand, your cocky smile making him feel so happy. He’s still processing what just happened, he can’t believe he officially got you back.

“Oh shut up, of course, they are our friends”

“What about you and I?, Are we more than friends?” You blush at his questions. He grabs you by the waist to prevent you from going inside the house.

“Not so fast, bonita”

“I don’t know. But I’m eager to be your lover”

Now it was Miguel’s turn to get blushed.

_______________________________

[rebelelegance]

hiii<3 can u write angst abt tasm!peter parker x sick!reader where he’s basically so obsessed with gwen and tries to hang out with reader as often as he can but when he loses gwen in the fight he runs to your house for comfort but your mum opens the door to let him know that you passed away a week ago or something. i rlly need something to cry to🫶🏽

A Little Too Late

A/N: OKAY SO IM HELLA LATE TO THIS. And I made a few changes, but I hope you like it!

Pairing: TASM!Spiderman x bsf!reader, TASM!Spiderman x Gwen Stacy

w/c: 978 (it's a short one)

Warnings: ANGST, tw!death

Masterlist

Peter couldn’t feel his legs.

He’d had the worst week of his life and right now he just needed you to hug him.

He ran past your neighbor’s house, racing up the stairs to yours, not noticing the look that she was giving him.

He rang the doorbell, waiting to see your smile, and feel your arms around him. To finally have someone by his side who knew everything.

But you didn’t open the door.

“Peter?” It was your brother. And unlike his usual grinning, goofy self, he was red eyed and seemingly angry. His girlfriend walked up behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

You’d hated almost everyone that James had dated, except Evie. But it’d been so long since he’d spoken to you, he wasn’t sure if that was still the case. “Where’s Y/N? I need to see her,” Peter huffed, peering inside the house over James’s shoulder.

“Oh,” James scoffed, “What? Your girl’s dead so now you worry about my baby sister?” 

“James,” Evie warned.

Peter felt his heart drop at the mention of Gwen, before it was replaced by rage. “How dare you!” he yelled, moving to step towards James, but was instead pushed back by the older boy.

“If you really wanna see her, go to the same place you see your girl nowadays,” and with that Peter was staring at the shut door.

To say Peter was confused was an understatement. Your brother had never been that rude to him. 

But what confused him more was that last sentence. He didn’t see Gwen anywhere nowadays. How could he? She was dead.

He turned around slowly, walking away as what James had just said swirled around his mind. It didn’t make sense. Were you at the graveyard to see Gwen too? But you weren’t that close to her. And anyways, the rest of what your brother had said didn’t add up.

Lost in his thoughts, he crossed the places that had defined both of your childhoods. The park where you’d met in 6th grade, Mrs. Parkinson’s house that you’d both toilet-papered in 8th grade, and last but not least, the local library.

You and Peter had spent so many days there after school puring over all sorts of books.

God, he missed those days.

He missed you.

He knew he hadn’t been the best, best friend lately but with everything going with Gwen, and the additional casualties of everything that was happening, he’d just been too busy.

It felt like you’d been absent from his life for ages. 

In fact it was almost like you were gone. Wiped off of the face of the earth.

And then it hit him.

And he ran.

It couldn’t be.

There multiple casualties after the whole thing with Electro, but not for a second had he thought-

He stood outside the graveyard, chest heaving, and anxiety building up inside of him.

He ran around, checking each and every gravestone in a frenzy, repeating the same word over and over again in a desperate attempt to pray for his intuition to be wrong.

Please.

And then he saw it.

In loving memory of Y/N Y/L/N.

Marked with the same day as Gwen’s stone.

“No no no no no, please.”

Peter’s legs gave out from beneath him and he crashed down, kneeling in front of your gravestone.

A sudden gust of wind made him aware of the cold tears on his face, streaming down faster than the pace at which he’d ran here.

He ran a shaky hand over your name engraved in stone, as if somehow that would make it easier to process.

It couldn’t be.

He’d seen you just before the fight. That was just a few days ago. You couldn’t have died. Not after he explicitly told you to go home. That couldn’t have been the last time he saw you for good.

He felt like his heart was actually breaking. He clutched your gravestone harder, tears soaking the rock. He prayed that this was a prank. That you would jump out from behind it. But the longer he stayed there, the more it sank. You were gone and you weren’t coming back.He’d lost you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Among the chaos of everything around him Peter heard your voice from an alleyway, and immediately ran to you, worried that you were here. “Pete!” you yelled, flinging your hands around him. “Someone might hear you,” he yelled, wrapping his arms around you nonetheless. “I don’t think anyone is paying attention right now,” you laughed, pulling away. 

He could see the worry in your eyes, as usual, in spite of the smile on your face. 

“What are you doing here?” he asked, changing the topic to the most important one right then. “I wanted to tell you to be careful. Do you need help with something?” you asked. 

He admired your bravery, and how you always wanted to help, despite not having any powers. 

“I’m good. You need to get home,” he ushered, glancing behind him as we watched the chaos increase. 

“Okay.” You replied, nodding. You never put up a fight when Peter told you to go home though. You trusted that he knew these things better, and could tell if a situation was bad.

“Hey,” you whispered, pulling him down so your foreheads touched, “you still owe me a pizza, so get back to me okay?” Peter always felt safe when he was like this with you. No matter what happened, as long as he was with you, he would be okay.

He laughed softly, “ ‘Course I will. Don’t worry too much,” he replied. You nodded once more before pulling away.

“Now go save the day Spidey,” you grinned.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Peter found himself leaning his forehead against your gravestone now, hoping that he’d feel that familiar safety again. Even if just for a moment.

[ikeubi]

i bet on losing dogs 🕷 jake sim

📰 t͟h͟e͟ ͟o͟n͟e͟ ͟t͟i͟m͟e͟ ͟j͟a͟k͟e͟ ͟f͟a͟i͟l͟e͟d͟ ͟t͟o͟ ͟s͟a͟v͟e͟ ͟y͟o͟u͟.͟ spiderman!jake 𝔁 fem!reader  ╱ inspired by gwen's fall in tasm ; major angst, (descriptions of) character death, and overall the regular mcu warnings

Jake Sim never turns his back on a promise he's made.

When you first found out he was New York City's Spider-Man, he swore to you that he'd keep you safe from the dangers that came with being associated with his masked persona.

Out of all the promises he's made, that was the very last one he wanted to break.

Yet here he was.

The masked boy was high on adrenaline as he chased after the villain Goblin among the multitude of buildings in the city.

His energy was beginning to wear off until Goblin tilted his glider to the side for the shortest bit of time, which was more than enough for Jake to catch your hair peeking out along with the look of horror seen in your eyes as the villain's gloved hand kept you from screaming.

The vigilante swung past the buildings faster and faster.

One building.

Another.

And another.

This went on until his enemy maneuvered his glider to the top of a clock tower, Jake making his way up with great speed.

For whatever reason it may be, the Goblin just hovered merely a foot away from the masked hero's spot on the tower, his metallic green mask covering the glances he took at the overly daunting, deep inside of the structure.

Jake eyed his movements nervously and with hesitation, his gaze going back and fourth between you and the villain.

You felt the hand clasped against your mouth move to cup your cheeks as the man's laughter boomed.

"What are you waiting for, spider boy?" you heard him taunt as he moved your face from side to side.

Your gut filled with dread about what the Goblin had up his sleeve and shifted your gaze to the hero clad in red and blue.

Jake seemed to be sensing that something about to happen was even worse than the present situation as he shifted to a more alert position, eyebrows furrowed behind his mask.

"Come and get her," he continued before swiftly pushing you off his glider.

Jake's eyes widened as he immediately followed your trajectory into the tall clock tower. "No!" he screamed as the Goblin's menacing laughter echoed through the nearly hollow space.

Jake despises how time painfully slowed down in these moments. Your last moments.

He hated how everything was clearer, how he could focus on the horror displayed on your face and the tears falling from your eyes for a seemingly longer period of time as you plummeted through the tower.

But he could save you, right? He's done it a few times before, and not once has he failed. What makes this life and death situation any more different?

You wanted him to save you. But time wasn't in your favor, nor did it slow down. You didn't have the pleasure of thinking positively and only of what was overt. And you were quite sure of one thing.

Jake Sim couldn't save you this time.

Death never scared you. The only thing that did was the thought of no longer being able to have dreams for your future with Jake, as well as being able to live them.

You didn't want to start fearing the pain. And so you closed your eyes for just a moment, and thought.

You once heard that when you die, the brain stays active for a final ten minutes, letting you relive the most memorable moments of your life. It brought you comfort thinking that you'd get to see Jake smile for a final time, because it wasn't just a hunch──you knew that those last ten minutes would be a period of time that the boy you loved purely consumed.

And so you opened your eyes.

The wind whistled past your ear, and you had a feeling that sooner or later, you'd be reaching the bottom of the building.

You sent one last painful smile towards your masked lover and mouthed the words you knew he would need to hear.

It's okay. I love you.

Jake's eyes pricked with tears as he read the words coming from your lips.

Realizing his pace wasn't going to meet yours soon enough for him to use his arms to save you, he extended his web shooter wielding arm and prayed as he pushed his middle and ring fingers down on the button and as the web formula shot out and clung to your sweater.

Time returned back to its normal speed. Jake thought he saved you and subconsciously smiled to himself.

That was until he heard it.

Crack.

Jake's face dropped as he watched your body go limp under his web, mere inches away from the ground.

His hands trembled while he pulled the white string back to hold you in his arms as he landed on the ground.

He quickly took the mask off his head and scanned your face for the slightest of twitches, searching for a sign that you were still alive.

"Y/n," his voice trembled as he shifted on his knees, hand pushing your hair back before using two fingers to check the pulse on your neck.

"No," he muttered to himself after a few seconds, unable to find a pulse.

Teary eyed and refusing to give up, he reached for your wrist to try and see if he could feel the pumping of blood from there.

Still none.

Other wrist.

None.

Chest.

None.

Maybe he can check your breathing?

No. None.

Stop.

Jake pulled back slowly after it sunk in that you really weren't breathing, that you really didn't have a pulse, and that he was really unable to save you.

His eyes rimmed with tears as he watched the color drain from your face against the deafening silence of the night's aftermath.

"No," he shook his head before shaking your figure.

"Y/n, wake up,"

"Come on,"

"No you're not dead. You're not,"

A cycle of words of denial continued until the dam finally broke and his tears rolled down continuously.

His sobs echoed through the clock tower. He couldn't let any more words out. His chest hurt and so did his throat.

As he broke down for possibly the first time in his life, the only thing he could think to do was hug your figure.

He stayed like that until dusk turned to dawn.

You were the one person Jake would've traded the world for just to keep alive.

And he'd never forgive himself or never forget how he kept the world safe in return for your life.

꒰ᵕ༚ᵕ⑅꒱ mail !

i may have gotten a little angst crazy with this one.....but i still hope it was good! writing this hurt a little though, lowkey :(.

© ikeubi 2024 ✿ do not steal, copy, plagiarize, or translate a̲n̲y̲ of my work!

[miguelhugger2099]

Hiii, I’m in love with your writing it’s a comfort for me atp. Could you please do grumpy reader where she doesn’t talk to others a lot. That makes Miguel look like an extrovert (even though we both know that’s not true 😭). Happy Easter 🐣 and or any holiday you celebrate.

Two Peas in a Pod

c.....comfort,,,,, sad hamster meme the highest honor i could ever get omg thank you i really liked this ask because its basically me haha my friend actually told me ive gotten better at being more welcoming and "nice" and another friend would tell me that i could never mask my uncomfortableness if someone was bothering me LMFAO but as alwayyssssss i can rewrite this request for u if ur not satisfied :) Art: nellwhre17 on instagram

Spider-People were supposed to be funny and outgoing. It was in their canon to have some resemblance to the original quippy and humorous Spider-Man. If not outgoing then at least a little endearing and sweet.

So the Spider Society is a little thrown off when you’re introduced to the team by Miguel. Both of your arms are crossed, your face blank and looking over other Spiders with neutrality. 

“Here’s our new recruit. She’ll be working more with Margo and Lyla. Think of her as one of your superiors like myself or Jess or Peter B.” Miguel tilts his head at all the other Spiders. “That’s all. Dismissed.”

He turns to face back to his console, returning to work on new files Lyla had presented to him. Some Spiders stay to chat with you. They don’t notice the slight discomfort and annoyance in your face.

“Hey! My name is Peter M! I think we might be the same age!” One says, his mask squinting to look like he’s smiling.

“Have you gone on a mission yet? What Earth are you from?”

“Has Miguel explained The Canon to you yet? It’s a little overwhelming, I know.”

The commotion irks you a bit, the Spiders coming into your personal space so you shuffle away and your brows instinctively scrunch together. “No, I’m fine.” You mutter curtly. The others finally see the change in your demeanor and they awkwardly step back.

Miguel turns over to see the few Spiders around and barks at them to stop. “She’s still new to all this so don’t go around pestering her.” 

They smile wearily up at him then at you, whose face is still contorted a bit in a way that looks like you’re obviously still being bothered. 

They get the message and wave goodbye to you but not without feeling a chill down their spine at how cold you were. Maybe you were just shy. Everything is and always will be overwhelming around here with different variants of yourself. So, they believed in time you’d come around like the others.

You, in fact, did not come around. After weeks, months even, you still came in and left without a word. Get in and get out. You rarely engaged in conversation and if you were in a group, you’d keep to yourself. If someone tried to include you, you’d just say a few blunt words that didn’t move the conversation at all so there'd be an awkward standstill before moving on.

No matter what, no one knew anything else about you besides your name, you were a Spider-Woman and the name of your Earth.

Even the esteemed group of young SpiderLings couldn’t even get you to open up. Jess and Gwen had just come back from a mission, wanting to eat at the cafeteria before heading home. They had found seats beside Hobie and Pav who were just catching up together.

Pav had mentioned trying to talk to you once but his bright personality pushed you further and further away from him, your responses to his questions becoming more and more short and quick.

“I’ve never met such a complicated individual.” He pouts, crossing his arms on the table.

“Don’ bother me none. I don’ like someone tryin’ to bug me either.” Hobie scratches the back of his neck. 

“Would’ve thought they opened up by now.” Gwen brushed her hair out her face. “It’s like pulling teeth with her.”

“She just seems kinda grumpy sometimes…” Pav sighs resting his head in his arms. “Even more than Miguel which feels wrong.” 

“Yeah, at least Miguel snaps at you but she…kinda just sits there.” Gwen leans back with a weak smile. “Not really sure how to make conversation when she’s so quiet.”

“She just doesn’t feel like talking, guys. Go easy on her.” Jess rubs her temples. 

Their conversation is cut short when Miguel walks through the cafeteria, documents in hand and with you in tow. Speak of the Devil. 

“Jess, Gwen, I misremembered about giving you the reports of your last mission together. I also have the analysis for the next one on Earth—199B.” Miguel hands the reports to Jessica and she immediately skims through it. Gwen looks over her shoulder and gives you a smile.

“Hey, how’s it going?” She asks. 

You respond with a shrug and a nod. “Good.”

Gwen’s smile wavers, laughing nervously as the awkward silence. She expected some sort of greeting back. 

Miguel answers for you. “She’s been with me the whole day since Peter’s been busy at home.” Gwen looks to Miguel.

“And how about you, boss? Doin’—uh—doin’ good?”

Miguel sighs, crossing his arms. “Better now that Margo fixed what Hobie broke in the console room.”

Hobie tsks. “Did not. You’re jus’ blamin’ me ‘cause I’m the scapegoat around ‘ere. Tha’ it?” 

Miguel pulls up camera footage from his Gizmo, of Hobie pulling apart different motherboards and CPUs from the server and tucking them away in his pocket. “Is this not you?!”

Hobie squints at the footage and shrugs. “AI has truly come a long way, mate. Bettah check tha’ out.”

Gwen, Pav and Jessica laugh at the scene, giggling at the sheer anger on Miguel’s face and Hobies indifference. You watch with a soft smile up at Miguel but nothing else.

Miguel feels your hand on his forearm and he looks down at you. You nod your head to the side, signaling it’s time to go. He looks at the time on his watch and collects himself. 

“We’re gonna head out. Don’t bother us unless there’s an emergency and be alert for any sudden messages should I need to contact any of you for anomalies.” He turns and gives a small wave before leaving, you trailing behind him.

You don’t say much other than looking behind to give them a small nod and following beside Miguel.

The group watches as Miguel talks to you, relating information and talking your ear off about missions and the to-do for the day. You listen quietly, eyes held on his and nodding along.

They glance at each other and think they would’ve never seen a person more closed off than Miguel in their lifetime. Even less where it looks like he’s more talkative compared to you. What an odd pair. “I think she has opened up. Maybe just not with us.” Jess leans back with a smile.

[justaz]

this got longer than i meant it to so im putting it under the cut

merlin and morgana watching arthur and gwen be The Couple in camelot. they are heartbroken, jealous, and tired- no, exhausted. they've arthur and gwen for years and fell madly and hopelessly in love with them (respectively). however, they care for the both of them and if they’re happy together then merlin and morgana will simply bite their tongue. besides, its not like their feelings are reciprocated so there’s no use in stirring up trouble.

but the pain eats away at them until they are shadows of their previous selves. merlin is quiet and demure while morgana’s lighthearted snark is growing harsher and harsher. it comes to a head when morgana makes a scathing remark to merlin about his feelings. before, her comments had been directed at others, arthur more often than not, but never toward merlin. they were in the same boat so why would morgana target him?

but she did and things get a little tense. then merlin finds a spell and shows morgana and the two of them, utterly exhausted and desperate for an end to their agony, agree to take part in the spell together. merlin concocts the potion and they both down it. the next day, merlin and morgana are as happy as can be. it was a startling 180° from the morose and downtrodden duo they had been not even twelve hours before to the happy, on cloud nine, nothing is wrong with the world people that hummed as they danced around the castle

merlin and morgana exclaim to one another how freeing it is to not feel such a heavy burden of unrequited love. they mention how easy it is to breath. how they haven’t been this happy and carefree in years. of course, like everything else, there comes a price

to be rid of feelings like love, the opposite feeling would take it’s place. a lot of people believe the opposite of love to be hate, but it is in fact indifference. it starts off slow where gwen makes inside jokes that morgana cant remember. then it moves to them having trouble remembering arthur and gwen’s names. then their memories begin to rewrite themselves to remove arthur and gwen from their minds. eventually, they roam the halls, arm in arm, without even a glance at either arthur or gwen bc they cant find it in themselves to care about these two random strangers. who would?

arthur and gwen go to gaius who has already noted their odd behaviors and has been looking into it. the rest of the knights join them in gaius’s chambers bc they had also noticed how weird they were acting. lancelot is quiet and brooding until arthur pushes him to confess what he knows.

lancelot tells them how he fell for gwen the first time he had come to camelot. she flushes and arthur seems upset but lancelot continues. he tells them all how despite, or maybe because of, his love for gwen, he let her go to be with arthur bc she was happy with him. he hesitates and gwen encourages him. lancelot mentally apologizes to his two magical friends and spills the beans. he explains how morgana has loved gwen for years and how merlin has loved arthur for years. the three of them had bonded after arthur and gwen were engaged about how much it hurt watching the person you love be happy with someone else.

slowly, he pulls out a vial filled with glittering, dark red liquid - dark like blood. he hands it to gaius and explains how they had come to him a few days ago with that and said how it would cure his pain. it would wash away his love for gwen so he wasn’t crushed under the weight of it. he says he never took it bc he didn’t think it was right but merlin and morgana had already taken it. he wasn’t sure what the side effects were going to be until he saw them that afternoon.

gaius finds what the potion is and explains how it did in fact wash away their feelings of love for arthur and gwen and with the absence of love, indifference took hold. he wasn’t sure if their missing memories could be attributed to the indifference or if the spell took to wiping the memories to prevent the love from regrowing.

arthur and gwen are quiet, guilty and upset that their closest friends were going thru such turmoil and they weren’t aware at all. leon clears his throat and asks how to cure them. gaius grimaces and read the book a bit more before responding that a counter potion would do the trick, it would neutralize the previous potion by bringing back their memories and feelings. arthur is quick to agree but gaius interrupts that once the counter potion has been administered, everything will come back at once. everything.

they question him and he explains that every memory, every word spoken, every touch, and every feeling from the past 7+ years will run through them at the same time. considering they’ve been dealing with unreciprocated love and watching the one they love be with someone else for the past couple of years, it wouldn’t be that farfetched to assume that they would look and sound like dying animals. suffice to say, it wouldn’t be pretty.

in spite of the guilt and fear in arthur, he insists that they have to bring merlin and morgana back. he doesn’t want to put them in pain but he cant just let them wipe themselves away and continue on with his life as if he didn’t just lose his best friend and sister. they spike merlin and morgana’s wine with the potion and, as gaius predicted, merlin and morgana both drop to the floor, screaming and crying in pain, pleading with anyone to make it stop and take the pain away.

gwen hides her tears in elyan’s shoulder, arthur uses his long taught skill of being an Emotionless Prick of a Prince his father taught him to not cry. the tears stay in his eyes and do not fall. a few minutes later, merlin and morgana are both catatonic on the ground, limp and staring at nothing. their breathing is slow, so slow they almost appeared dead.

lancelot and gwaine help merlin up and take him to his chambers while leon and percival do the same for morgana. no one mentions what happened and merlin and morgana stay locked in their rooms for two days before being able to get up out of bed. they aren’t back to their shadow selves from two weeks prior, nor are they the happy go lucky duo from the past few days. instead, they are slow and quiet and barely even there. they’re barely even people anymore. simply going through the motions.

[iridescentparkers]

vanilla palm trees → three - late night talking

vanilla palm trees → three - late night talking

summary ⇢ it’s been years, he should get over it, right? but, peter just can’t. he looks up, he sees her. he goes to bed, he dreams of her. he wakes up, he can smell her. he goes out one night and he sees…her. no, not gwen but his ticket to stop moping around on the anniversary of her death. what is meant to be one quick night of putting sadness on the back burner, is now a blossoming new love that feels all too perfect for peter. was this new woman in his life meant to be? or was this just another set of poorly dealt cards that would leave him walking away empty handed. all or nothing, right? ↝ college!au ↝ one night stand gone wrong trope | masterlist

parings ⇢ tasm!peter parker x female reader

warnings ⇢ alcohol use and sexual themes

a/n ⇢ THANKS FOR 500 AAHAHAHAHAHAHHHAH LFG! love y'all. answer my poll if you can, i wanna write something new. also this one is kinda short!

HE WATCHED as his windows clouded with condensation and fog, making his New York City apartment a bit dreary. Lighting the match on his old gas station matchbox, Peter saw Y/N’s tired reflection stare back at him in the window. 

“You look exhausted,” he remarked as he lit candles around the room. “You should get some sleep. Take my bed.  I’ll sleep out here.” 

“I’m fine,” she remarked, followed by a stifled yawn. “Don’t worry about me. I just hope nothing too bad happened to your circuit.” 

“It’s all good,” he assured. “My roommate texted and said the powers' out on the entire block.” 

 He saw her shiver under her blanket, rubbing her hands quickly back and forth, “If the hand warmers aren’t working, there is always a beer.” 

“I know we aren’t that far in age, but I cannot drink like I used to in college,” she informed, pulling her blanket close to her body. 

He laughed, grabbing a blanket nearby, moving to his couch, and opening one of the beers on the table, “We were both barely drunk.” 

“I was barely tipsy, but my tolerance is still not as good as it used to be. I went to USC. The parties here are tame compared to the LA lifestyle.” 

He lifted the bottle to his lips as she spoke, Y/N's eyes watching his hands. “I’ll take one.” 

“You sure, don’t feel pressured-

“I don’t, I promise." She began. "You already have me in three layers of your clothes. If this isn’t working, what else will.” She stated. 

“You miss it?”

“What? LA?” She asked, and he nodded. 

“Sometimes. I grew up here though. I left to get a drastic change of scenery.” She mentioned, watching him as he took a swig of his drink. 

“What part?”

“Manhattan. My parents owned a gallery for years, both art curators, and when they need me to, my brother and I plan to run the whole thing.” 

“Which one?”

“My Mom’s family gallery, we’ve had it for years.” 

"There is more than one?"

"A couple here and there. That's the biggest one." 

“What’s the name ?”

She hesitated, glancing around his apartment before meeting his eyes again, “The Trenton.” 

That was his favorite gallery, the curations changing every month with local artists that people come from all over the world to see. Peter spat out his beer, the words making him choke, “Holy shit-”

She pressed her lips firmly together, pushing her hair away from her face, “Sorry.”

Peter had apologized. Y/N waved a gentle hand, “You’re not the first.” 

“That’s my favorite gallery,” he lit up, drinking more of his beer. 

She smiled, her leg drawing closer to his. “I should take you some time.”

“I’d love that.”  

Y/N shrugged her shoulders as she sipped her beer, leaning back further on the couch. Peter mirrored the position, placing his body even closer to Y/N, “What do your parents do?”

“My Aunt and Uncle raised me,” he informed. “My Aunt May runs a non-profit and my uncle passed years ago, a mechanic.” 

“Peter, I’m so sorry,” she stated, placing a gentle hand on his thigh, rubbing her thumb along his kneecap. 

“It was all a while ago. I’ve been healing for years.”  He smiled, Y/N removing her hand from his leg. The ghosts of her gentle hand lingered and he slowly looked down and back up at Y/N as she took another sip of her drink. Peter watched as Y/N moved her lips to the bottle, swiping her thumb along her bottom lip. He looked back up at her eyes, watching as they quickly jolted back and forth. She leaned into him, kissing him hard. After placing her beer aside, him doing the same, she crawled into his lap. She grinded onto him, Peter grabbing her ass as she wrapped her arms around him. She pulled from him, narrowing her eyes at Peter.

“It’s almost 3, and I’m feeling warm,” she whispered, getting out of his lap. “I’m going to get some sleep.”

“Yeah, go ahead. Take my bed.”

She quickly ran to Peter’s room, letting the door crack behind her. Peter followed her down the hallway, slowly peering inside of his room. He watched as she pulled back his neatly made sheets, folding them forward as she got under the covers. He stepped closer inside, veering towards the edge of her bed. 

“If you need anything Y/N, let me know.”

She shifted to sit on her knees, eyeing Peter in his stance. Ending the space between them, she crawled closer, grabbing his hand as he stood before her. “Stay with me.”

She was glowing, the same way as she did in the bar, even like this. There was something so angelic about her touch, hell her entire being. He wanted nothing more than to fall into her and see all of her, but he couldn’t. 

“Please.” She asked, placing a warm hand under his shirt, and moving her fingers along his abdomen. 

“Please.”

She put her other hand along his cheek, her face almost touching his. “Okay.”

He nodded, looking down at her lips. She pressed her lips on his gently, slowly pushing herself further into him. Peter broke the kiss stating, “We shouldn’t, I’m not that intoxicated.”

“I’m not either, I swear.” She assured, kissing along his neck. 

“Still, just to be safe.”

He grabbed her hand, holding it to his chest before moving her to one side of his bed. Lying down, he moved her hand around his torso, allowing her to tuck her head into his neck. 

“Peter?”

“Hmm?”

“Did you blow out all of those candles?”

In the morning, Peter awoke before Y/N, his body now to her backside. The apartment was still chilly but it felt amazing. The warmness between them was so natural and comforting that it left Peter not wanting to let go. 

“Good morning.” 

With her eyes closed, Y/N greeted Peter, her words still mumbled with sleep. 

“Morning,” he greeted back, kissing the back of her neck. “How are you feeling?”

“Warm,” she smiled, running her hand along Peter’s arm. She turned over, her face about an inch from Peter’s to place a lazy kiss on his lips. She drew her hands up and down his back as he gripped the side of her face. Her tongue moved lazily in his mouth, and his response muffled in moans of pleasure. 

“Woah there bossman!” A voice yelled,  “You’re breaking roommate rules It's 10 AM.”

The two broke apart and Peter jolted from his lying position, “Shit.”

“Who’s that?” Y/N asked, sitting up.

“My roommate.”

“Alcohol, candles, blankets, pillows,” Harry noted, his voice growing closer to Peter’s door. “Parker! I’m so proud of you!”

“Parker? Who’s Parker?”

“It’s my last name,” He hurried, getting out of bed. “Listen I-”

With his hand over his eyeballs, he walked up to Peter’s door, “Now I’m not coming in, but I would just like to say, this is a monumental event that will go down in Osborne and Parker history.”

“After years, Parker’s got his groove back!"

“Harry!”

[itsanerdlife]

Wicked Intentions 4

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Stark!Reader // (Seriously close) Steve Rogers x Reader // Clint Barton x Reader // T’Challa x Reader.

Warning: Violence. Language. Bullying. Girl Fights. Name Calling. Degrading Comments. Angst. Degrade of Woman (to a point). Criminal Life. Illegal Shit. Fights. Alpha Males. Stalking.

Characters: Peter Stark. Howie Stark. Bucky Barnes. Steve Rogers. Clint Barton. TC (T’Challa). Ben Reilly. Cledus Kasady (CK). Brock Rumlow. Gwen Stacy. Wanda Maximoff. Becca Barnes. Amore Lorelei. Kitty Pryde. Frank Castle. George Barnes. Joe Rogers. Winni Barnes. Pepper Stark. Wade Wilson. Eddie Brock. Warner Strucker. Barney Barton. Bobbi Morse. Pietro Maximoff. Logan.

A/N: This is a Bully Romance. High School setting. Mafia Family Life. Woman are on a lower level than males in their world. Just a heads up. This is the third installment of the series. Bad Intentions, Cruel Intentions, and Wicked Intentions.

Credit: Huge shout out to @ml7010 for all the help, pushing, hyping up, putting up with my changes midway through. If it wasn't for this peach, y'all never would have gotten this series or nearly as far as I am now.

It’s a full house, bustling along, a wedding well underway.

“Red.” I hold up a bridesmaid’s dress, in black from the rack my mother pushed me towards.

“Black?” Red lifts a brow at me.

“It’ll be slimming for Gwen.” I grin at her.

Gwen shoves dresses to one side, glaring at me. Wanda and I laugh.

“Fuck you, bitches.”

“We love you.” I laugh, stepping between the legs of the rack, climbing over to her. Wanda follows, Gwen laughs. My hand lands on her small belly she’s growing. “And we love you.” I coo at her belly.

“Kiss ass.” Gwen snorts, Wanda joins in, cooing at our niece or nephew.

“Inherit aunties, right hook.” I whisper.

“Y/N!” Gwen laughs hard.

“Now that would bless by Satan.” We look over to see Clint joining us.

“Packman?” I lift a brow at him. “Joining us for some wedding planning?” Grinning at him.

He tucks his hands into the pockets of his jeans. Nodding his head slowly. “I was hoping to talk to you, boss.” He shrugs a shoulder, a small smirk on his lips.

Glancing at the girls, they nod.

“We’ll go with the black.” Wanda nods. Gwen agrees with a nod, both moving to leave us.

“Now what could have you coming over here during wedding planning?” Smirking at him as we move to sit on the stairs.

He chuckles softly. “I’d say this is your last chance to trade up.” I laugh, bumping my shoulder into him.

“Thought you were just going to be my fantasy?” I grin at him.

He nods slowly.

“Mmm. I see.” I nod slowly, looking away from Clint, watching the movements of the house. People running, fabrics, planners, glasses, the girls, my mother, Frankie and TC all hurrying about.

“See what?” He swallows.

“You won’t be my fantasy anymore. I’m not your type.” I smile, looking over at him.

He scratches the back of his head. “Nah I’ll always have this love for you.” He sighs.

“Love for me like a sister.” Smiling at him.

He sighs. “Yeah, like the baby sister I didn’t ask for, ever. Didn’t really want. But got anyways.” We laugh.

“I didn’t sign up for two more brothers, you know.” I nudge him in the shoulder with my own.

“You know I’d kill someone over you?” He sighs, smiling at me.

Laughing, I nod. “Think Bucky beat you to that.”

“I’d save you a thousand times over, trade places with your bruised and broken body, to protect you. You know that?” He glances over at me.

“I never said thank you, Packman. For saving me.” I whisper softly.

“Don’t ever do that to me again.” He whispers.

Glancing over at him, I smirk.

He sighs, shaking his head.

“No promises. I’m a wild card.” Winking at him, making him laugh.

“No shit.” He scraps his hand over his mouth.

We sat there in silence for a moment.

“What do you need from me?” I ask quietly.

He smiles at me. “Don’t know why I thought I was going to have to explain anything to you.”

“I know you, Packman.” Shrugging a shoulder.

“Tell me you approve?” There’s a plead in his pretty storm blue eyes.

Nodding slowly. “We both know you don’t need my approval.”

“I do.”

“Packman,”

“I need it. I need your approval. I need to know you agree, think it’s a good match.” He swallows.

“It’ll be a national sad day when you announce it.” Smirking at him.

He softly laughs. “As Satan, as my baby sister, the reason we Saintz do what we do. As queen, taking over the table, boss ass bitch, I need to know it’s right.” Tipping his head he watches me.

“Well you didn’t have to force her to fall in line or worry who you Saintz are.” I laugh, Clint hangs his head, chuckling. “So she’s got that going for her. A little normal, maybe boring, but we can help with that.” I grin at him.

“That girl gang is going to be something out of nightmares.” He shakes his head.

“Bet on it, Packman.” I grin.

“I always bet on you, Sweets.” We grin at each other.

“Okay.” I nod.

He lifts a brow. “Okay?”

“She cheats or looks at another dude and I’m going to bless her.” Cutting my eyes to him. He grins at me.

“With your right hook?”

“And my knee.” Shrugging.

He grins, nodding. “Satan combo.”

“I approve, Packman.”

“Think the table will?” He wonders. “They weren’t keen on us bidding on you.”

Leaning back for a moment, I stood suddenly. “Come on, Packman.”

He stands following me. Passing TC I tip my head indicating for him to follow.

Knocking on the door, I push it open.

“Little Miss?” My father looks up at me stepping in. “Boys.” He nods to the two following me in.

“I need you to call a meeting.” I rest on the arm of a chair.

He looks from me to them. “Any reason?"

“Packman is bidding on Bobbi.” I explain.

“Congrats Barton.” He smiles.

“Thank you, Sir.” Clint nods.

“And you want to make sure it gets approved.” My father looks to me.

Shrugging, I tuck a foot up on the seat, my hands on my knees. “I’m putting my weight behind it, daddy. Bobbi helped save me that night, with Clint.” I nod.

My father swallows hard, leaning back in his chair. “And you want this to be your first movement at the table?”

“My life, for their happiness. I’m sure.”

My father locks eyes with Clint, before nodding.

“I’ll make the call, eight tonight.” He nods, grabbing his phone.

“We’ll be there.” I nod, standing.

“Miss,” my dad calls when I get to the door, looking back to him “you’ll be the first woman at the table, ever.” He swallows hard. A flicker of fear in his eyes.

Lifting my chin “I know daddy, it’s a good thing you helped birth Satan. Some old men don’t scare me. I fight boys, and my father will set anyone afire.” I smirk at him.

“Your soon to be husband kills people for you.” TC smirks.

“Imagine, what my brothers would do.” I smirk, shrugging.

“We’d burn the town down, Sweets. Blood on our hands for you is an easy choice.” Clint chuckles.

Looking at my father, I smile softly at him. “They tried to cut me down, I survived. That was their first mistake daddy.” My father smiles softly, nodding.

I leave the office, TC and Clint following.

--------- Everything Peaches 12/8/22 @mo320 @ml7010 @kmc1989 @joannie95 @coley0823 @rileyloves5 @sexyvixen7 @duckestylez @abschaffer2 @drayshadow @shirukitsune @xoxabs88xox @carostar2020 @rosalynshields @hookslove1592 @royal-sunflower @iwillbeinmynest @bellamy-barnes @geeksareunique @happydeanpotter @fanfic-n-tabulous @steel-blue-eyess @mariekoukie6661 @bless-my-demons @notyourtypicalrose @lets-talk-about-xyz @loving-life-my-way @shinycupcakebaker @also-fangirlinsweden @stupendous-science @daughterofthenight117 @dandelionsmarkthegrave @physically-a-cheesecake @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked

Bucky 'Fuck Me Up' Barnes: @nickyl316h @jbbarnesgirl @lets-roggerthat @this-is-mycrisis @kaylaphantomhive

Series tags: @sebastians-love

[daydream-cement]

Organs in the Wash Ch. 2

Miranda Hilmarson x Reader

Authors Note: Thank you so much to my loves in the coucil of gwen gc. i love you all so much.

“Drink! You have to drink!” She half-shouted. Her hand was stretched out to you, waving frantically. All night Miranda had been unabashedly herself: grinning wildly, laughing unabashedly, and placing her hand on your leg and shoulder whenever she found one of your statements funny. 

“Oh, come on!” You lost the game fair and square, but you had consumed enough liquid courage to tease and argue with her. Together you had been sitting at the bar for a few hours and with each drink, the gap between you closed another inch. You were delighted to find she was such a touchy-feely person in a casual setting. 

Her hands came down to grip your thigh, shaking you back and forth, “Drink!”

You do as you're told and raise the glass to your lips, winking at her as you did so. Her grin falls and a wide blush spreads across her cheeks causing her to turn away from you to hide her own embarrassment. 

“Drink if you have never kissed a woman.” You try to make your statement as jovial as possible, your hand reaching out to squeeze at her side as you spoke. Her face turned back to you and her facial expression was unreadable, like a mixture of bewilderment, nerves, and exhilaration. 

From the way you asked her out, you still weren’t sure if this was a true date or just an opportunity to hang out. Self-doubt was the large reason you couldn’t believe a wonderful woman like her would even agree to drinks. This statement was one of the best ways you could nonchalantly see if this was a friend-date or a date-date. 

Smirking, she raised the glass to her lips, watching you intently as she drank. When Miranda set the glass back down, she licked her lips, obviously taking a moment to think before her eyes met yours, “I haven’t kissed a woman... but I’m not opposed to it.”

Your heart froze in your chest. Even though you seemed to initiate this flirtation, you weren’t ready to hear her reciprocate. Rather than wallow in the nervousness of kissing your newest crush, you continue flirting with her, “Let me know when you want to try it out.”

Miranda’s back straightened and her blush moved up to her ears. You tilt your head back to look at her with heavily lidded eyes. You watch as she swallows hard, wetting her lips once more as she thinks about your offer. Her phone begins buzzing before she can respond. 

Miranda throws you an apologetic look before slipping off the barstool to take the call. Her hand squeezed your bicep as she brushed by you, but you were more distracted by the feeling of her body pressed against your back as she slipped past a group of patrons. 

You began working out a game plan to earn a kiss from Miranda by the end of the night. You were distracted by an arm sliding around your shoulders and a face dipping low by your ear. A man’s voice began speaking to you, his breath hot against your ear, “Here all by yourself, huh?”

“No, my date is coming right back.” You shift your shoulders away from him, turning the barstool in an attempt to put some distance between the two of you. He didn’t seem to be deterred, rather he placed a foot on the bar towards the base of the bar stool, his knee pushing between your own. 

“I can keep you company until then.” He shrugged, placing a hand on the bar, leaning in just a little closer to you. 

“No, that’s-” 

“Who is this?” Miranda cut you off, her hand reaching out for you to take. She looked down at the man with distrust as his intentions seemed less than honorable. You grasped her hand and shoved past the man. His knee between your legs caused you to stumble into Miranda’s arms. Her strong arms caught you without an issue, one of her arms winding around your waist. When you regained your balance, her grip on you remained, pulling you flush against her body. 

Being this close to her made your head spin. She smelled faintly of deodorant mixed with a flowery perfume. Your hand braced itself on her stomach and you were sent into a form of gay panic when you realized how thin the fabric of her shirt was. You weren’t about to back out of this proximity, rather you pressed yourself closer to her, feeling her grip tighten around you in response. 

“Where are you going?” The guy turned his palms to the ceiling and his head shook in confusion. 

“I’m taking her home.” Miranda’s voice was cold as used her strength and larger frame to turn you away from the man towards the front door of the bar. Her hands rested on your hips as you pushed your way through the crowd and her head dipped low by your ear to speak to you, “I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable.”

God, of course she didn’t make you uncomfortable. You wanted her hands all over you. 

Once you reached the front doors, her hands dropped away from your waist. You bit your lip in frustration, wondering what you could do to get her hands back on you. Everything happened all at once. You left the bar and rounded the corner before turning around. Your sudden stop caused Miranda to run right into you, her arm wrapping around you out of instinct, “Are you okay? He was awfully close to you.”

“Jealous much?” You teased, biting at your bottom lip as you stared up at her. 

There was a pause between the two of you before Miranda began laughing, “Jeal- I don’t think I have the right to be jealous...”

You open your mouth to respond but a man's voice from behind you cuts you off, “Hilmarson?” 

Miranda’s smile fades and she immediately distances herself from you. You turn to look at the man who was now interrupting this moment between Miranda and you. Miranda went stiff and she completely focused on him. He was her boss and the man who was cheating on his wife to sleep with Miranda on the side, “Adrian...” 

“Who’s this?” There seemed to be a twinge of jealousy in his voice. His eyes narrowed as he looked at you, but you didn’t notice his gaze as you were watching Miranda. Adrian approached you both slowly, continuing his way towards his destination while he spoke.

“A... friend. We were just out grabbing a couple drinks.” Miranda gestured to you before looking down to the ground once more, “I was just about to take them home.” 

“I see...”Adrian pursed his lips and nodded, glancing at Miranda and back to you once more. You finally turned your head to really take in his form. If your instincts were correct and this man did have feelings for Miranda, she was far too attractive for him. His lip curled as he looked at you and you offered him a similar look of disdain in response. He looked back up to Miranda to speak once more, “We should get together soon.” 

Miranda didn’t respond, rather she offered him a curt nod. He passed her by, grasping at her bicep as he did so. Whoever this man was to Miranda, he has seemingly ruined your night together. As you walk along, you brush your hand against hers, but she seems to move away from you a bit, retracting her hand away. Miranda ended up walking you home in near silence, and when you asked a question, her answers were short.

“Who was he?” You ask tentatively, not wanting to intrude. 

“My boss.”

“Hmm.” You hum in response, not believing this was the full truth due to the awkwardness of their interaction. You weren’t going to push the subject any further. Instead, you hoped that if your relationship progressed, she might be willing to share more of her with you. While she seemed to be happy-go-lucky, there was a bit to her that was hiding from you. 

As you moved up the stairs to your apartment, you formulated your final effort to let her know how much you liked her. Hopefully, if she knew you loved her company, then you would regain the talkative woman from earlier. When you were in front of your apartment door, you finally spoke, “Would you like to come inside?”

“I-I have work tomorrow and I-” Miranda ran a hand through her hair nervously, glancing back down the stairs. You didn’t want to believe she wanted to go, but you weren’t going to press her any further.

“That’s okay.” You took a step closer to her, tilting your chin upwards to look into her face, “I had a great time. I’d love to go out again..”

Miranda furrowed her brow, her face flooded with confusion, “Wh- Really?”

“Yeah. You’re a ton of fun.” You shrug and fold your hands over your chest. Miranda always loved that compliment. She always prided herself on her ability to be good company, “And I was serious, ya’ know?”

“About what?” Miranda cocked her head, another one of her sweet smiles returning to her face. 

“About me being your first kiss with a woman. I’d happily volunteer as tribute...” Her grin brought a smile to your face as you spoke. From her positive reaction to you asking to spend more time together, you decided to push a step further, wanting her to know that you were more interested in a romantic relationship than a friendship, “You are very beautiful.”

“Well I wouldn’t-” You watch her face fall to her feet, a blush returning to her face, not wanting to accept the compliment you provided her with. 

You wouldn’t be deterred. You dipped your head down, trying to get her to make eye contact with you. Even if Miranda didn’t want to kiss you, or even date you for that matter, you wanted her to know how attractive she was, “Beautiful. You are truly beautiful.” 

It was Miranda who kissed you. The kiss was clumsy at first as she came at you with a little too much velocity, but you caught yourself by throwing your arms around her neck. She kept moving at you until your back was against the door to your apartment. Miranda parted her lips, looking to deepen the kiss which you accept greedily. 

Your kissing continued, hands wandering and tongues meeting until you heard the door slam shut at the bottom of the stairs. Both of you were breathing heavily when Miranda pulled away. Footsteps continued up the stairs and you both came to a mutual decision to call it a night, knowing if you were allowed to touch anymore, things would move a lot further and faster than planned. 

“Text me?” You ask, beaming. Miranda nodded quickly as she leaned forward to place a final, chaste kiss upon your lips. She waits by the door when you pull away from her, unlock your front door, and slip inside. You stop before you close the door, peaking your head out, “Goodnight, Constable.”

“Goodnight, civilian.”Miranda tilts her head, maintaining eye contact with you until the door shuts. You peer out the peephole and watch as Miranda does a little dance to herself, bobbing her head and shaking her shoulders in triumph.

-----

It had been three days since your date and the two of you had been texting nonstop. Your next date was planned for tomorrow when Miranda had a day off of work for the two of you to go to the beach together. 

Most of your texting was harmless flirting, but last night some of the messages turned steamy after Miranda told you she loved your eyes... and your legs. Then she proceeded to admit to fawning over you when she and Detective Griffin came to your apartment. You responded that you loved her hands and loved to imagine all the things she could do to you with them. She was typing for a long while after that and ended up only responding with a blushing emoji. 

You were in the middle of your workday when you received a call from Miranda and couldn’t hide the wide grin that spread across your face at the thought of hearing her voice. You tap the green ‘answer call’ button and greet her before she can even speak, “Hello, Constable.”

“Hello, civilian.” From the sound of her voice, you could picture the shy smile that spread across her face, “How are you doing today?” 

“I’m good. Just trying to get something else done for work. What’s up? How are you?” You lean back in your desk chair, spinning around slowly as you speak. She had you feeling like a lovesick teenager. 

What you couldn’t see on Miranda’s end of the call was Robin tapping at her watch and mouthing ‘hurry up’ at the blonde. Rather than answering your questions, Miranda jumped right into the purpose of her call, “We have another body.”

“A serial killer?” You postulate as you assume she is calling to ask you to do more cryptography work. 

“Can’t say for sure. Would… you be willing to come down to the station and decode what had been carved into the body?” You can hear the way her tone gets lighter as the question continues, hope surging through her.

Of course you would come help, but first you felt compelled to tease her about it, “Do you actually need me for this or do you just want to see me again?”

“Two things can be true.” Her response was quick, almost like she had been ready for you to ask that question. You bit your lip at her words, excitement and nerves beginning to swirl in your stomach at the thought of seeing her again.

“I can come down and help.” You stood from your desk chair and began scurrying around your apartment to prepare yourself to leave. You always liked the apartment to be particularly tidy whenever you leave. Stacking your cereal bowl on your lunch plant, you carry them into the kitchen to place them in the sink.

“Want me to come pick you up?” 

Her question made you pause your task and start grinning like a fool, “I would love for you to come pick me up.” 

----

You waited at the curbside for Miranda’s car. You felt silly when you were surprised to see her in an official police vehicle. She pulled up to the curb, rolling down the window to heckle you, “I’ve heard you have been disturbing the peace. Get in.”

You chuckle as you pull open the passenger door and slide into the front seat. You were expecting more awkwardness when you inhabited the same space once again, but you hadn’t gotten the door closed when she grabbed your face and pulled you into a clumsy kiss. You let out a laugh against her lips and place your hand at the back of her head to return the kiss with the same fervor. 

When she pulls away, her pleased smile makes your heart melt. You grab her face with your hand and squeeze her cheeks lightly, “You truly are adorable.”

Miranda glanced down bashfully. Rather than press on, you release her from your grasp and fully close the car door. You listen to her speak as you buckle your seatbelt, “Ready to go stare at a dead body?”

You settle into the seat, hands folded in your lap, “Oh, absolutely.” 

[miguelswifey04]

i saw your request were open!

something angsty with miguel pls. maybe him being neglectful of y/n and her leaving because of his workaholic ways and then he tries to win her back?

oh god yeah—i love angst 😓

neglect—miguel x fem! reader

cw: angst; fighting, breakup, overall js sad, no proofread (did this in the car)

summary: miguel doesn’t know what he has until he loses you…that’s when regret settles in for miguel even if he doesn’t show it. will you take him back or move on for good?

a biggest man’s regret is losing the one he loves. miguel o’hara, or rather known as you boyfriend in the spider society have always felt sorry for you. they all don’t understand what made you fall for a heartless closed off man. they knew at the end of the day you’d end up getting hurt. no matter what you stayed hopeful that you could fix him or even change him, but that was just wishful thinking. delusional at best was what gwen would tell you every time you’d come crying to her. she’d console you and give you word of advice but you never listened to any of what she said. it would end up going from one ear and exit out from the other. of course, anyone would be fed up if they had someone who would always complain yet never take the advice. so, you stopped coming to her for that because you knew you were being a burden. a clutz.

things change, people change, and miguel changed. he wasn’t the man you fell in love with anymore. he’s cold. bitter. and very rude. he felt distant from you he was even almost unrecognizable. whenever you thought about him your whole body would turn cold, sending shivers down your spine. even from the way he would love at you were like ice daggers stabbing at your very own presence. no matter how hard you tried to rekindle the warmth you once felt from him, it was merely impossible. oh, you already knew that things change, but, you didn’t want that. you did all you could but miguel would just push you away.

miguel was too engrossed in saving the nut multiverse. you were tired of him spewing the same bullshit over and over again like a broken record. it had no end, and miguel knew he was making you suffer whenever he’d push you away. his work was his priority yet you came second. what time of man would make his girlfriend come last? miguel would. he just didn’t know how to love you properly the way you deserved to be loved. it wasn’t your fault nor was it his, technically. he was just an emotionally unavailable man yet miguel decided to at least he opened to the idea to dating you. why? maybe because he was at least capable of harboring feelings for you. he just didn’t know how to go about it. you thought you were strong enough for miguel but you weren’t. you both didn’t know how to communicate properly which further divided the two of you—you both strayed apart in the relationship. the entire time you would walk on eggshells to be with him. when you both were in bed together, you didn’t feel his warmth. you felt so single in the relationship. this was not what you wanted.

“miguel what’s up with you? talk to me!” you begged to him. his back faced you as you saw the way his back rose and fell with each of his breath’s. the way his muscles contracted and expanded with every movement he made being busy at work. he didn’t give you an answer but to you that was your answer. it was a painful realization that his workaholic nature had caused a rift between you. you gulped as you felt your tears start to pool in your eyes. you tried to blink them away but you couldn’t catch them from cascading down your reddened cheeks. you were frustrated and embarrassed that miguel had ignored you.

“okay. i know how that is. keep ignoring me—but i won’t deal with this any longer!” who knows what possessed miguel but in the moment he turned around to face you.

“what?” he was in a state where he was visibly shaken. it was true miguel wasn’t good at expressing his feelings so no matter what no matter how hard he tried to come up with something to say to you…he couldn’t.

“what? is that all you can say to me?? are you fucking serious??” you scoffed as you wiped your tears with the sleeve of your suit, sniffing, “fuck you miguel..you’re a complete jackass. i regret ever meeting you. i regret ever falling in love with you…” you didn’t even give him a chance to speak. you left.

as the days passed by miguel had tried to talk to you, for you to hear him out. but, you never gave him the chance to hear his explanation or tell you his complete feelings. he knew he was in the wrong for pushing you away as he was a workaholic. it was no excuse for him to have treated you like that. you wanted him to do better for you but he never did. it resulted in you two never seeing each other again. you shut him out and he never tried to bother you again. you happily moved on yet miguel never did. his heart still clung onto you. but at last, that was the reality and the consequences of being spider-man 2099.

[ch0wen]

༝ ˚ ༝ My Lady is the Sea ｡ ˚ ༝ - Prince Eric x Fem!Reader | NSFW

𖠳 ᐝ warnings: brief smut, 18+ (minors dni), unprotected sex & cursing

Sea salt tickles your nostrils as you step out onto the wooden dock. Nose twitching like a bunny to rid the salty air from your sensitive nerves. You glide forward only a few feet, and your left shin knocks into a wooden pole. A barricade lined the perimeter of the landing. Fencing that stops you from falling into the unknown below. An oil lantern illuminates a portion of the dock and the gradually darkening surface of the deep. The expansive waters lurk just beyond the fading arc of light. Your body gently sways with the sounds of the waves stirring.

Instinctively, you flex your hold on a roped handle. A heavy, disgusting mixture of beer and spit sloshes in the bucket that you have been entrusted to dump out. Polluting the ocean, you think. An unfortunately common attribute of living in a coastal town. It's second nature to dump and forget. Water appears to be along every horizon you look to. It surrounds you, yet it's ever-moving. Continuous. Traveling away.

How you wish you could be out there now. Just like your father had moons ago. Oh, the precious things he gifted you with when he returned to the marina! The carefully selected treasures. He always seemed to know which new object would earn an excited squeal from you because of its sparkles or funky shape. Whispers at bedtime of now fictitious-sounding tales on how he acquired them. To you, his trips were like storybooks. Too embarrassing to admit, you used to go to sleep late into your teens with visions of exploration dancing in your head. Dreaming of the uncharted waters and cloudy faces of the friends you'd make. He'd promise to you, that you would soon be old enough to explore the world with him.

But you couldn't truly treasure the last retelling of his adventures because no one foresaw he would leave it on a cliffhanger. He never came back. Your mother forbade you from speaking of his expeditions as time passed. "Don't go towards the beyond." "This is your home." "You're safe here." she chided. Here, on land. The hope soon ended with the stories. You grew accustomed to the familiar. You were raised here. It's all you have known. Is it worth it to leave at this point?

However, there are instances when you fall back into childlike wonder. In the quiet lulls, similar to the brink of falling asleep, you can't help but contemplate what else the waters hold past their horizons.

༝ ˚ ｡⋆ 𓇼 ⋆｡ ˚ ༝

A faint, muffled tune begins inside and wafts out into the silence. The merry-sounding song envelops you. You blink out of the reverie to adjust your vision in the darkness.

You can hear the pub's piano, in desperate need of a tuning, as you push open the door. A gaggle of men are singing a sea shanty in the dining space. They look disheveled but have dancing smiles. You can't help grinning as you watch these men celebrate life.

“Just docked," Gwen, your co-worker, calls from over her shoulder. She fills up two cups and then slides them over the bar top towards one of the waiting men. He slaps a few coins down and moves back to the crowd, like rejoining a school of fish.

Gwen wipes up the liquid he left, “I heard one of them holler that they came in from the Carribean.”

“I feel like that's only the third ship from around there this season."

"How do you manage to even keep track? There have to have been hundreds of vessels that have passed through here."

You blushingly shrug at her knowing smirk. Teasingly, her fingers reach out to flick at your slightly tarnished necklace. A chain made from Spanish silver with a locket bearing some type of ruby gem.

Leonardo was the one who had graced you with this last year. He was a buccaneer. He and his crew docked in town for a fortnight. He was charming and proud. In the tavern, he was always drunkenly boasting about the treasures he had found. The people he'd fought. The Lords he'd impressed. The people he'd fucked. He was so fun.

When your birthday happened around the time he was in town, he came stumbling into the bar with this necklace. He said it was nothing and that he had dozens of more valuable findings in a chest on board his ship. But he never showed you to prove that to be true. However, you did thank him ever so graciously that night.

He sailed out a day later. No harbor was his home. You're used to this life working as a bartender in a popular trading port. You see hundreds of thousands of faces. All of these handsome men ranged from sailors to buccaneers. They all share with you the amazing stories of their lives. They fascinated you. Inspired you. Seduced you. - You can't help but be attracted to the rugged, good-looking, and ambitious type.

A man unexpectedly calls out from the crowd towards the pair of you. His voice grabs your attention like a Siren's song. There were too many bodies to place where it was coming from in the mass of people, but you swear you briefly saw a hand in the air on the left side of the room.

“My lovely bar maidens, a round of your finest ale, please, yeah?"

“Right away, sir,” you nod curtly while pivoting obediently to fill the dregs.

༝ ˚ ｡⋆ 𓇼 ⋆｡ ˚ ༝

The rosy-cheeked, rowdy men cheer even louder as you approach with their fifth round of booze. Their attention has been won, not by the promise of refreshments, but by the beer sloshing over the rims and onto the pair of bouncing breasts carrying it all.

Low whistles scatter around the table at your cleavage while you lean over to set down the ale. Mucky hands grabbing for the foaming tankards. You catch a handsome man staring through the limbs. He gives you a dimpled smirk. His eyes betray him as they glimpse down to what you can assume is your chest. Well, he's no better than any man.

Your retreating form hears the same voice from before exclaim, “Here is to another voyage through uncharted waters! I am grateful for all your hard work, boys. And thanks to Grimsby for laying off the scolding because we're three days past schedule."

You're back at the bar. A crewmate, with a red kerchief pushing back his straw-yellow hair, heaves an overfilled mug in the air toward the handsome man,

"And a special thanks to our Captain, whose mother would keel over from learning the adventures her dear boy has taken us on. Prince Eric!"

"Prince Eric," they unanimously cheer!

Together, as they collide their drinks, fat drops of the golden liquid splash onto Prince Eric's tunic and wet his chest. The strings of his shirt are untied. Making the neck loosely hang open with his chest hair on full display. Your eyes are drawn to it. Tracing the outline of his defined pecs through the thin fabric. You're no better than a man. Worst yet, he notices you staring. His stare seems to darken, and he motions his mug towards you as a 'cheers' gesture before returning focus to his companions.

Clearing your throat and dirty mind, you turn back to tend to one of your regulars, a local fisherman slumped over on a stool at the end of the bar.

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Eric strides over as you scrub up the beer rings on the bar, left by the patrons who previously occupied the empty stools. He fluidly pulls one out to sit and drums his fingers along the wood. Blue eyes staring you down for a third time tonight,

"Can I get you anything?”

“I think I should take a breather. My crew is too enthusiastic to get me drunk.”

“Sounds like you're having a bad night." He threw back his head and let out a loud laugh. Admittedly, it was too big of a reaction to that poor joke attempt. You wring out your rag into a nearby bucket to hide your smile.

You wait for a beat before sparing him another glimpse. He’s staring at your chest again. You feel the exposed skin warm under his look. You’re tempted to peek down to see how much this corset is causing you to spill out.

“Did you get it locally?

“Sorry?”

"The necklace," he half-gestures towards you.

You clasp at the pendant, "Oh, this."

He nods with his eyes fixed on your chest a moment longer before moving up to your face. His cheeks are flushed and eyes hooded, assumedly, from the pints he and his crew have slung back. You're moving toward him, holding out the chain to let him get a closer look.

“I think it’s from the Spanish Islands. A pirate passing through last season gave it to me.”

His large hand reaches out to replace yours. “It’s beautiful. I have an eye for treasures like this.”

He's so close like this. You watch his eyes flick around the locket, his fingers tracing over the gems, and the way his dark curls fall as he tilts his head to examine.

“Silly me to think anything else. Here I thought you were just checking out my chest.”

“Well, you do have wonderful tits," he absentmindedly states. He leaves you gaping as he pulls back.

"Thank you for letting me have a look. I'd be rather fond of that if I were you. That's a special gift."

"Y-yeah, but given to me by a not-so-special guy," you shrug.

You sense an awkward pause, but he watches you with a soft, dimpled smile. You motion towards the window out to the harbor, “Which one is yours?”

“The biggest one. Naturally.”

You stifle your giggle and notice a boat at the end of the port. Beautiful and massive.

“Wow, you weren't kidding. What's it like up there?"

"On the boat? You work in a marina. Have you ever been on one?”

“Oddly, no.”

He didn't hide his shock.

“I'm sorry. Are you telling me that summer lover could give you a necklace but decided not to show you his deck?”

“Something like that," you lean onto the bar, "How unfortunate for me, right?"

His hand strikes the top of the bar as he rises from the stool, causing you to flinch.

“Well, that simply just won't do! Do you want to come see mine?"

The lamplight and mischievousness dance in his eyes, "I can give you the grand tour.”

“Will you let me spin the wheel?”

"Only the most skilled helmsmen are allowed to touch," he pouts, then that damned smile graces his lips again, "but I think I may be able to bend the rules for you."

“I’m going on break,” you call to Gwen before following the handsome voyager outside.

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"And, this would be the Captain's quarters."

"Oh, Captain Eric?"

He sheepishly rubs at the back of his neck, "I don't particularly like going by titles. Makes me feel like I'm trying to say I'm more important than others. I swear by my men. We venture out for fun, but I'd be stuck at port without them."

"That is a very noble thing to say, Prince Eric."

"Come off it," he laughs while moving over to a table against one of the walls. Eric picks up what appears to be a rock. He turns the object in his hands before showing you.

"Fossilized sea stone. Found it off the coast of my home island."

He places the textured stone in your open palms. The unexpected weight of it doubles you over, but Eric catches you. His hand lingers on your hip.

He proceeds to tell you about the rest of his findings laid out on the surface. You love the way his face lit up. Making himself exhilarated with his own stories. You listen intently and let yourself live vicariously through his retellings.

༝ ˚ ｡⋆ 𓇼 ⋆｡ ˚ ༝

Eric locks an ornate chest up as you watch. Sitting on the table now cleared of his glories. “So, are you considered a sailor, explorer, or just a guy with a boat and a lot of time on his hands?”

Eric laughs, "The last one, for sure. Once I turned nineteen, my mother allowed me to venture out and sail with the crew. I've always loved the idea of discovering something new on my voyages. Whether it be places, possessions, or people."

He's moving into your space, "I am happy to have met you, Y/N."

"And I, you, Prince Eric."

"No titles here." He leans in with a hint of a grin in his whisper, "I forbid it."

"Oh, that sounds like a command, and I shall obey, Your Majesty."

He chuffs as you see his eyes drop to your necklace again. His fingers dance along the silver chain before exploring further and grazing over the top of your chest. He makes sure to peek up at you for some sort of permission. Silently, you put your hand over his own to guide him to grab a handful of your breast. Eric takes the cue and squeezes while closing the gap between you with a kiss that immediately heats up. Hands knead your breasts over your camisole-corset top.

"And here I thought you've been admiring my necklace all night. I feel scandalized," you tease while he kisses your neck.

"No, no, it is beautiful! But, these," His calloused hands give a reassuring squeeze, "are really lovely."

Hands quickly work to pull down your blouse to expose your tits. Eric rolls a nipple between his forefinger and thumb. Gasping, you arch up into his touch. Legs instinctively spread wider to allow him in. You feel his dick twitch the moment he presses closer.

A moan growls in the back of his throat as he rolls his hips. Grinding his hard-on into your wetting core while you kiss. Your skin grows hot, his breaths come heavy, and the heat is building between your legs. 

Eric put his mouth to your breast, sucking at your skin in obscene, open-mouthed kisses. Eliciting a low keening sound from you. He withdrew just enough to lave at your nipple, back and forth, over and over, until your pussy thrummed to the same beat.

"Is it very unprincely of me to tell you that I would very much like to fuck you right here, now, in my chambers?"

"You are but a man, my Prince."

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Your body was thrown across the desk. You don’t know where to put your hands, so they grip and scrape at the wooden surface while Eric fucks into you.

He has a firm hold on your naked waist. Keeping your long skirt hiked up to your stomach so he could watch himself penetrate you. He has a brutally harsh pace going. The delicious feel of the drag and pull of his cock.

Eric braces himself on the desk. A toned arm flexes next to your head. His face is now closer to yours as he changes the angle of his hips. With the newfound support, you feel him speed up his thrusting. He groans into your chest. Playfully biting a nipple before kissing up to your neck. His movements were enough to bring you dangerously close to reaching your high in only a few minutes.

"Oh, Prince Eric," you whine.

"Fuck." His hips stutter. "What's my name?"

"Captain Eric. Eric. Eric. "

A wave of bliss hits you and you screw your eyes shut. It doesn’t take long before both of you reach your orgasms. You hold onto Eric's biceps with all your might, as you scream his name. No doubt loud enough for everyone in the tavern to hear.

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At dawn, you're re-dressed and carefully creeping over the creaky floorboards. Trying not to wake any of the still-drunk crewmates who had found their way back onto the ship.

Catching your eye, the silver locket, sat on the once-empty desk, glints in the daybreak. Eric's back rises and falls. The rest of his bare body is covered by the messy bedsheets. Blissfully oblivious of your exit.

You let that sleeping form be your final image of the handsome Prince and disembark the Royal ship.

[yourimagines]

Sub!Peter ParkerxTopMaleReader (Tom Holland)

[After events of NWH]

Peter Parker got a job at the Daily Bugle selling photos of "Spider-Man" and quickly became the company's top photographer. Now Peter travels in a van with his companion M/n, exploring New York City for story ideas. However, Peter experiences a creative block. M/n tries to help by making dinner at his apartment and buying some wine. As the wine takes effect, a sexual tension builds between them, and they eventually give in to their desires for each other.

This one gave me to be honest anxiety, I really needed my time to write for this one, I really hope you like it, I tried my ultimate best to make this a good one.

Wine and Dine

* English is not my first language I apologise

* Gif is not mine

* Triggers: 18+, smut! fluff

Peter POV

We were driving through New York. “I’m out off ideas.” I said with a big sighed. “What about we go to my place and relax a bit?” I shrugged my shoulders. “Come on Parker, you need some time to think and relax, you haven’t had the time to do that, you’re always working.” I looked at him. “Okay, only this time.” He smiled at me. “Good now let’s go to my place then.” He told me where I could park the van and went to his place.

“Just relax, I’ve got you.” He was standing in the kitchen, making some dinner. “You don’t have…” he shot me a glare before I even finished my sentence. I held my hands up. “Okay okay. I’m just going to take some glasses for the wine.” I moved away to grab two glasses and walked out of the kitchen.

We both were sitting in the living room. He sat down on the ground by the fireplace, I sat down in a lounge chair, relaxing while drinking some wine. Feeling already a bit drunk. “I always thought you and Gwen would end up as a couple.” I coughed and he started to laugh. “Easy there Parker, is not that bad.” I shook my head. “Me and Gwen?” “Yeah, why not she’s cool right?” “No way, she’s kind but I don’t see her like that.” “You don’t?” “No..” he was looking at me, his eyes traveling down. “I bet she likes you.” He looked back into my eyes. “You think?” He nodded. “Why not, you’re spider man.” I laughed. “Yeah right, nobody wants to date me, I fight against the bad guys but I’m not like Bucky and Thor.” I pointed at my arms. “You are so insecure Parker, why don’t you just for once let people close to you.” He moved carefully to my seat, sitting I front of me. The fire was reflecting on his skin, making him glow, looking like a god. I felt my heart started to beat faster.

His hands carefully tracing down my legs. I started to feel a bit dizzy as my breathing began to slow down down and got deeper. “Are you okay?” He looked up at me, I nodded. “You sure? We don’t have to you know.” “ I know, I just don’t like the teasing part.” He smirks at me. “Okay, just use your words yeah.” “Okay.” His hands move up to my knees and slightly pulled me off the chair right on top of him. I grabbed his shoulders Incase I would fall. His hands travel up to my face, tracing with his thumb over my lips. His other hand travels to the back of my head, tangling his fingers into my hair. I looked at his lips. ‘God, he’s hot.’ Before my brain could even progress what he was doing he crashed his lips on mine. I kissed him back, my hands going through his hair as his hands go down to my waist, slightly pushing me down on him. I moaned and he slipped his tong in my mouth. I felt his hands roaming around as I slightly pulled his hair. He leans us to the side and lays on top of me. He places his thigh between my legs. He breaks the kiss and starts to kiss along my jaw to my neck. His hands are going under by shirt as mine rest on his broad shoulders.

“Let me take this off.” He unbuttoned my shirt and throws it on the chair. His hands roam over my chest. “You are so fucking beautiful Parker.” I blushed at him. “Don’t get nervous now.” He placed a trail of kisses behind. Sucking my neck, as his hand went down to my pants. “Okay, I do need to tell you I never done this before.” He smiled at me. “That’s okay, just talk to me yeah?” I nodded. “Yeah, just be careful.” He unbuckled my belt and pulled my jeans down. “I’ll be careful.” He slowly pulled my boxers down. Revealing me completely. “Already hard i see.” He carefully strokes my boner. I softly moaned his name. “You like that?” I hummed at him. “Words Peter.” “Yes.” I started to move my hips, causing more friction against my boner. “Not so fast.” He stopped and moved his hand away, I whined out. I looked at him as he takes off his sweater. Revealing his muscular body. Broad shoulders, abs and muscular arms. Looking like a god, looking down at me. “We are just getting started Parker.”

We were both naked as I lay down on my stomach. “You sure.” He asked while tracing his fingers along my back. “I’m sure” I felt him grabbing my waist and pulling me closer. I was getting tired and the alcohol in my blood made it even worse. “I’ll stop if it hurst to much.” Then I felt a sharp pain. I grabbed a random pillow and hissed. “I know, it does get better.” I felt him slowly moving. “Why are you so big.” He chuckled. I felt him grabbing my hand and guided it to my boner. “Pump yourself, makes it way more good when you cum.” I did what he told me and started to move my hand. He placed a trail of kisses behind along my shoulders while moving in and out. I started to moan his name as he started the dirty talk.

I was a total mess. I lay down on the floor, covered In sweat and sperm. “Are you okay?” I nodded, way to tired to talk. “Let me clean you up.” He picked me up and brought me to the bathroom. “I’ve made a bath for you.” He carefully placed me in the bathtub. Warm water hits my sensitive skin. I hissed At the contact. He joined also, sitting behind me. “Let me help you.” His hands moved to my shoulders and massages them, placing kisses on my neck. “Relax, I’ve got you.” I closed my eyes again and leaned a bit back against him.

I woke up in bed, laying against his chest. I rolled away to look at the clock on his nightstand. 04:00. Way to early. I rolled back to him and closed my eyes. The alcohol was almost out of my system and I still felt the same. Maybe it is time to let people close. I snuggled a bit closer and fell slowly back to sleep.

[the-type-a]

Duncney Week 2024

Day 6: They Don’t Know How Special You Are…

“Your secret’s safe with me…” Create a bonus scene from any season where Duncney share some fluffy moments.

*Read under break*

It had been a few weeks since Courtney surprised everyone and came back in the middle of season two. A few weeks and she had laid out her new personality that came with a nice stack of rules to give her an upper hand.

Speaking of Courtney. She was on her way to the elimination ceremony when a familiar whistle caught her attention. She rolled her eyes as she saw Duncan beckoning her into the woods. Everything in her told her to keep walking towards the arena but her legs seemed to have other plans.

She looked around making sure nobody was around before ditching the paved path for a ground filled with dips, rocks, and dirt.

They didn’t say a word to each other as they forged ahead, only coming to a complete stop when they both knew they were a good hearing distance away.

“So you’re really back and going to be a complete bitch to everyone?” Duncan said as he turned to face her.

“I’m not being a bitch! I’m playing it safe.” She defended herself matter of factly. But all Duncan did was cock his eyebrow up, “By being a bitch. Got it.”

“Was your plan just to insult me?”

Courtney made to leave but Duncan’s voice stopped her in her tracks.

“You can play it up all you want, Princess, but I know you.”

She didn’t move as she heard the twigs snapping under his heavy feet indicating he was standing right behind her now.

“If you want me to play along that’s fine,” Duncan started as he reached out and played with a strand of her hair. Courtney desperately wanted to lean into his touch but kept her composure as he continued his sentence, “but just don’t forget who you really are.”

“And that would be?” She hummed as Duncan’s hand brushed the side of her neck. He leaned in to whisper, “An uptight Princess with a pole up your butt.”

Her eyes snapped open and smacked his hand away.

“I’m kidding.” He laughed at the look of her face when she faced him. “You’re independent, strong, and can kick anyone’s ass if deserved.”

Courtney didn’t say anything to him now. She was still in a little shock that she’d let him get so close to her so soon. Duncan didn’t seem to notice as he kept talking.

“You know, you have a pretty good shot at winning this game playing fair and square.”

“That got me absolutely nowhere last time.” She said as she crossed her arms.

He shrugged, “Well things are a little different now.”

“How so?”

Courtney didn’t pull back when Duncan reached for her hands. Their fingers laced together as he pulled her just a little closer.

“You have me here to back you up.”

“I don’t need your help, Duncan.”

She tried to free her hands but his grip tightened, keeping her in place.

“It wasn't an offer.” His voice was serious, causing Courtney to take a deep breath with a shake of her head.

“Duncan, I watched how playing this way got in between Trent and—” she paused, the thought of saying Gwen’s name felt awkward to her considering she was now so close to Duncan.

“Courtney.”

His eyes softened as he saw what she wasn’t able to say out loud. Duncan hated how everything had played out for them so far.

“Nothing happened between me and Gwen.” He assured her.

She couldn’t meet his eyes. A part of her knew she was being ridiculous, but the other? The other was taunting her and pushing her to believe every fucked up scenario it conjured up.

“It doesn’t matter. We’re broken up.”

“We don’t have to be.”

Courtney felt like she wasn’t breathing as one of his hands let go of hers only to brush a strand of her hair out her face. It traced behind her ear and slowly made its way up her neck to tilt her head up.

“I miss you.”

Time slowed down as Duncan leaned forward ready to give her exactly what they both wanted. But Courtney couldn’t allow it. There was no way she was going to lose track of the game again.

“See you at elimination.”

She forced out as she backed up before her body could react to his touch. His hand dropped in front of him and a long sigh escaped his mouth. Duncan rubbed his temple as she turned to leave the woods.

“This’ll be fun.” He called out to her.

“What?” Courtney asked as she turned to face him. She hated how she couldn’t just let it go. How she needed to know whatever his fucked up head was thinking.

“Getting you to admit you still want me.”

He smirked as she choked up at his words. Duncan knew she was putting her walls up again, but getting that reaction out of her proved it wasn’t over. And he would gladly break them down just like last season.

After all, it’s what made them, them.

—