#middle school has their musical in three weeks

[laughinglynx]

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[fairuzfan]

Palestinian men detained by Israeli forces since the start of the war in Gaza have told Middle East Eye how they were physically tortured with dogs and electricity, subjected to mock executions, and held in humiliating and degrading conditions.

In testimonies to MEE, one man, who was taken by Israeli forces from a school in Gaza where he had sought refuge with his family, described how he had been handcuffed, blindfolded, and detained in a metal cage for 42 days.

During interrogations, he said he had been given electric shocks, as well as scratched and bitten by army dogs.

Other men also described being electrocuted, attacked by dogs, doused with cold water, denied food and water, deprived of sleep, and subjected to constant loud music.

“They did not spare anyone. There were 14-year-old boys and 80-year-old men,” said one of the men, Moaz Muhammad Khamis Miqdad, who was taken prisoner in Gaza City in December and held for more than 30 days.

As well as three men taken prisoner in Gaza, MEE spoke to a man detained in a raid in the West Bank city of Qalqilya who said he had been blindfolded, stripped naked, and hung by his arms during interrogations in which he was repeatedly beaten and burnt with cigarettes.

He also described being held for days in freezing conditions in which he was not allowed to sleep and of a soldier urinating in a bottle and handing it to him after he had requested water.

All four men described being forced to strip naked and being constantly beaten and abused by Israeli soldiers during their weeks-long detentions.

MEE has also spoken to a number of other former detainees who also described similar experiences to those of the men in this story.

[....]

Eventually, they were dropped at an unknown location. Five soldiers came into the room where they were being held and continued beating them.

This pattern of being moved around in vehicles between different locations, all the while being subjected to beatings, continued over several days.

Finally, the men arrived at a location where they were forced to kneel on the floor, still restrained with handcuffs and blindfolded.

“We all remained like this for 37 days… almost naked in the blistering cold, our bodies exhausted, our souls drifting away. The food was barely enough to keep you alive,” said Hassan.

When the men tried to complain about the conditions of their detention, their captors brought in soldiers with dogs.

“They unleashed them on us. The dogs would attack us, scratching us while the commander would continue to beat us with utter brutality.”

Every few days the men would be taken for questioning. Hassan said he was shown images of tunnels and his interrogators would ask him what he knew about them.

“Whenever I said that I didn’t [know anything] they would slap, punch, hit, and kick me all over my body,” said Hassan.

“The soldiers with their commander would make a lot of noise… so we were not able to sleep and remained exhausted and completely strained from fatigue, starvation, and torture.”

One night in the early hours as he tried to rest, Hassan was kicked awake by a soldier and dragged to a bus with four other men. The bus took them to Karm Abu Salem, the main crossing between Israel and southern Gaza, where they were released.

“The commander screamed at us that we should walk quickly, but I could barely walk [because of] the beating and kneeling and the lack of food and sleep. The soldiers started running after us to scare us.”

Hassan said the men managed to drag themselves to nearby UN buses that were waiting to collect them.

[munsonkitten]

It starts small.

Steve buys Eddie a handful of cassettes after the whole Upside Down business. Drops them unceremoniously in Eddie’s lap while Eddie’s laid up in the hospital. Eddie pulls them all out of the plastic bag and lays them out in his lap while Steve stands a few feet away, arms crossed protectively over his torn up middle.

“I got things on your vest,” Steve says as Eddie takes in the titles. “I figured everything in your room’s probably gone now, but I still have your vest, and I’ll — I’ll give it back. When you get out of here. It’s safe in my room. But, just — yeah, the tapes are things you have on it.”

Dio’s The Last in Line, Motorhead’s Ace of Spades, Metallica’s Ride the Lightning, Judas Priest’s Screaming for Vengeance, and WASP’s self-titled album.

“I almost bought you more, but I wasn’t sure what else, and I don’t know much about your music, so I just got those. I was going to bring you my Walkman, but I couldn’t find it,” Steve says. “I think one of the kids borrowed it and never gave it back, actually.”

Eddie still hasn’t said anything yet. He’s still taking in the gift in his lap, can’t even comprehend that Steve wanted to give him more.

“Uh,” Eddie says, trying to get his brain working again. “Yeah. Man. Fuck, dude. Thanks. Seriously. Don’t worry about the Walkman, really. This is nice, Harrington.”

“Yeah, no problem, Munson,” Steve says softly. He goes and sits in one of the chairs in Eddie’s hospital room, and stays there until the kids come running from Max’s overcrowded room to ask for a ride home.

Eddie lays there with his tapes spread out over his lap, and he finds himself smiling down at them. He doesn’t even have anything to listen to them on, but he thinks it might be the most thoughtful gift he’s ever gotten from anyone other than Wayne.

It’s nice, he thinks, that he might be becoming friends with Steve Harrington. It’s nice, he thinks, that even when they’re no longer fighting for their lives, Steve might want to stick around.

He didn’t expect that.

Eddie’s in the hospital for two weeks, and Steve stops by almost every day. He sits for a while, sometimes they talk, sometimes they don’t. Sometimes Eddie wakes up and sees Steve sleeping in one of the uncomfortable hospital chairs. He doesn’t wake him, just smiles to himself because Steve’s tired, but he doesn’t want Eddie to be alone.

It’s been a while since Eddie’s had a friend the same age as him. Jeff and Grant are both two years younger than him, Gareth is four years, and Henderson, Wheeler, and Sinclair are all five or six years younger. He has friends, but Steve feels different, just a few months younger but already graduated. In a way, it makes Eddie feel younger, still being in high school and all.

He doesn’t really think that should matter, but it kind of does. All his younger friends look up to him, he’s always the one making plans and making sure everyone sticks to them, he’s the one in charge of it all — the older one. But when Steve’s around — Steve, with his real job, and high school diploma, and his nice car, and the brood of children he chases after, Steve, who’s an adult in all the ways Eddie himself feels like he’s not — Eddie feels like he can sit back and let someone else do all of that.

When Steve’s around, it feels like he has someone to care for him and look out for him the way he’s done for the others.

It starts to ease everything he’s carried for so long.

* * *

The next time Steve buys something for Eddie, it’s even smaller.

In fact, it’s so small that Eddie doesn’t even notice it at first because Steve was actually really sneaky about it. Eddie would almost find it cute, if he were allowed to think about Steve that way. He’s not, to be clear. It goes against his Munson Doctrine to have crushes on the jocks, rich kids, and straight boys, of which Steve is all three, but if he wasn’t, then yeah, Eddie would find it cute that Steve is sneaking him tiny gifts when he isn’t looking.

There’s a keychain on his van keys that he certainly didn’t get for himself. He notices it one day during a get together at Harrington’s house. Eddie just got out of the hospital a few days ago, and everyone insisted on throwing a party. Now kids are running around Steve’s backyard, yelling and hollering and trying not to fall in the freezing cold pool. It’s still too early in the spring to swim.

Even Max, barely out of the hospital herself, is being wheeled around in her wheelchair by nothing more than El’s mind powers.

It’s kind of fucking insane, to be honest.

But Eddie needs to go out to his car to get his pain meds because he’s really starting to feel the length of the day in his aching joints and healing wounds, so he grabs his keys off Steve’s counter where he left them, and that’s when he sees it.

A tiny metal bat dangling from his keys.

He knows it was Steve because Steve was the only one in the house when he got here and set his stuff down in the kitchen, and no one else has gone inside since Eddie found his way to the backyard, so of course it was Steve.

Eddie doesn’t mention it, just smiles to himself and runs his fingers over the pointed wings.

He sees Steve looking at him when he comes back into the kitchen. Eddie raises his hand and shakes his pill bottle at him, and without another word, Steve goes to the cupboard to get a glass that he fills with water.

Eddie sets his keys back down on the kitchen counter as Steve slides the glass of water over to him. Steve nods at the keys, and Eddie grins at him.

“Thank you,” Eddie says.

“I have a matching one,” Steve says, turning back toward the sink to look out the window above it. “Just, you know, because…”

He gestures at his torso, and then over at Eddie, and Eddie nods. He gets it.

It makes him feel a little bit closer to Steve. Even if Eddie isn’t allowed to crush on him, he’s happy to have someone who gets him. Who understands what he went through, and feels similar pain.

It’s like Steve’s saying You’re with me now, we’re connected, and you’re not getting rid of me.

Read on AO3

[skelliko]

Hey skelli! could u write random hcs about rindou and ran as tn's best friends using school theme? If u can, of course nd thank u!

Rindou & Ran Haitani |-° being your best friend's

• being best friends with the Haitani brothers means no one will attempt to bother you. They're basically your protectors/ escape card in almost any situation involving another person

• encourages you to ditch class and roam around the hallways and other places that they had discovered on school grounds

• in some classes ran is forced to sit at the front of the class because of his poor eye sight, other times he has to peek over your desk to copy down what's on the board

• being best friends with the Haitians means constant trips to detention and constant complaints by the teachers cause of skipping detention.

- if something is done behind the teachers back and no one snitches, the teach immediately assumes that it's one of you three even despite trying your best to prove that it wasn't. half of the time y'all are framed

• the Haitians are actually pretty educated, majority of the times their calm in class and it's just that their gang fame and title that always makes them be perceived as a stereotypical 'delinquent that doesn't do well in school'

• rindou somehow always knows the drama that goes on between everyone, every week he always has something new to add on to the previous information that he had gotten or something completely different about a person that you wouldn't expect

• friendly banter but also be prepared to somehow get humiliated either way

• Rindou secretly keeps one earbud in his ear in lessons to listen to music. he has his wired earphones inside of his sleeve and his hand against his face where he then hides the earbud under his hand/hair

• notes will be thrown onto your desk in the middle of class, thinking that something would be written in it you'd open it but instead there's just a childish drawing of you that ran did whilst he was bored

• you have a crush on someone in school? don't worry cause you have ran and rindou to either help you with getting close to your crush or completely ruining it.

• despite ran being practically engaged to his bed and always sleeping- he still complains how tired he is in the mornings and trust, that guy is not a morning person so he gets pissed off at the loud annoying kids that are already running in the halls.

- ran is a fast paced guy whereas Rindou likes to take his time with romance, so asking ran for advice he'd probably tell you to immediately ask them out. but with Rindou he'd tell you to do something that's easier said than done "just talk to them"

- whereas for Rindou despite him being sleep deprived from his lack of sleep routine, he complains the least in the mornings and just goes along with the mornings. though the darkness under his eyes are certainly there under some bright light

• due to the Haitians being popular among the people, there's definitely some thirsty people for them. meaning you'd hear many different stories on how obsessive someone got, how they broke someone's heart, and how much privilege they get. sometimes you even get to read confession letter before they do.

- but cause of your connection to them, you'd be asked favours for other people in terms of "can you tell rindou/ran..." "does rindou/ran...?" "do you know if he...?" ect.

• they always got some sort of insult to say about the teacher, but it's okay cause no one likes them. their insults are pretty creative too, makes you not want to know what they'd say about you if y'all never got along

• ran sometimes purposely 'forgets' his money/food just to steal you's and rindou's lunches instead

• the threatening jokes about telling everyone an embarrassing story about either of you circles around you three on a weekly baisis

• you had a failed relationship? your ex will definitely wish they had done better. it may seem like a good thing but anyone inside of the school that knows your friendly relationship with the haitani brothers; it'll cause some people to avoid you and not in a good way, guess thats a downside.

• the best way to get rindou annoyed immediately would be if you get his glasses dirty by simply pressing your finger print against the lens. its better when he's not wearing them cause it's be easier to smudge them due to him having good reflexes when it comes to people getting too close to him

• little play fights here and there in the hallway that makes the three of you to dash it down the halls and get complaints from the teachers from how loud your echoed running is. it's not often, but when it happens it's hilarious and it usually starts off with some teasing.

• if you're not smart in a subject that they're smart in then be prepared to be teased whilst you copy down their answers of the work you didn't do, cause of their comments you gotta concentrate real hard and ignore their comments to copy the work down, but then one of them would playfully move their book/page across to irritate you

• their handwriting fluctuates a lot in school, sometimes you gotta ask what kind of curse are they trying to write down in their note book. but outside of school where they're not rushed or bored out of their mind- it's pretty neat

• sometimes fights break out between the Haitani brothers and some other delinquents trying to aim for the top, meaning your either pulled/pushed away from the scene or you manage to join in but that's only if it's in a large amount (2 Vs 20) but if it's a small amount (2 Vs 5) then itd be over within a minute and yall go back to doing whatever you were doing before

- it sometimes does ruin some plans that you guys have made causing some shared complaints and irritation

 ♡---

[taliesin-the-bored]

Tag game: tag nine people you’d like to know better.

Tagged by: @oneshoulderangel (Thank you for tagging me!)

Last song: At the moment, I have "Losing Your Memory" by Alan Star stuck in my head, which I suppose makes it my current song, not my last song. Hm. I get songs stuck in my head very easily, but the last one I had there for a significant amount of time was a mashup of different language versions of "Les Rois du Monde" for about a week. "Lehetsz Király", the Magyar version, is probably my favorite of them. It's worth a listen.

Currently watching: Normally, the answer would be "random mostly terrible old movies/shows" or "nothing much", but I currently have a hyperfixation on the musical Roméo et Juliette and have been watching it in multiple languages. (Thus, the song).

Three ships: This is hard. Maybe as a result of being on the ace and aro spectrums, I'm more likely to care about which characters are interacting than whether it's romantic or platonic. Here goes:

Kedivere/Bedikay. It can be romantic, platonic, or queerplatonic, but whichever way, I'm here for it. I probably spend too much time thinking about how in Cullwch and Olwen, when Cai gets mad at Arthur and marches out, Bedwyr stays behind, keeps acting like nothing's happened, and isn't the one to avenge Cai's death. The feeling of betrayal on both sides has a lot of unexplored potential. And the version where Bedivere dies and Kay fights to bring his body back safely while mortally wounded himself... And the version where Bedivere survives Camlann and Kay isn't said to fight in it, so they might be left together after their world has fallen apart...

Platonically or queerplatonically, Galahad and the Grail Heroine. I really like the tragic Grail Quest friendships, but I like theirs most, maybe because there's something weird and otherworldly about them both. I like it when characters are strange and endearing and doomed by the narrative.

Ever since reading John Matthews' retelling, which I read before the original, I've had a soft spot for Caradoc and Guinier. The Story of Caradoc is very disturbing, and I have some major qualms with Caradoc over a detail Matthews cut out, but all the same, there's a reason these two have the best track record with magical fidelity tests. Each of them would go to the ends of the earth for the other, and together, they're stronger than any curse.

Favorite Color: Blue, particularly royal blue and some teals.

Currently consuming: Black licorice with chocolate.

First ship: This is a hard one, since through elementary and most of middle school, I tended to go along with whatever I thought the author's intentions were and was more likely to unship something. The first non-endgame ship I got invested in was Sonya/Nikolai in War and Peace. I didn't like Nikolai, but Sonya did, and she was my favorite character, so I wanted her to be happy. The first non-canon couple I thought was meant to be together was also in War and Peace: Marya Bolkonskaya and Julie Karagina. My eighth grade self did not think their letters could be interpreted platonically. I still don't.

Last movie: If the musical doesn't count, the last movie I watched was Quest for Camelot, which was awful. Though not Robot Monster-level bad, Robot Monster has an elegance to its simplicity which Quest for Camelot lacks.

Currently working on: Various fics, most of them Arthuriana or CotRK-related (I am woefully behind on the Badfic Bingo), and (theoretically) an epic-style poem, though I haven't gotten much of it written for quite a while now.

Tagging: @gawrkin, @emperorcandy, @wildbasil, @gorewound, @knightsofsomethingorother, @ladyminaofcamelot, @tasosotaso, @amashelle, @gingersnaptaff (I have no idea who's been tagged so far, apart from the people on @oneshoulderangel's post, so I apologize for any multi-tags)

[starillusion13]

Our Party

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Coming to face them after years at a club where you went to enjoy with your friends to relieve stress on a weekend is unfortunate for you.Really though? You had parted your ways back then and now they don’t matter to you. But is that same for them?

▪️▫️▪️▫️▪️▫️▪️▫️▪️▫️▪️▫️▪️▫️▪️▫️▪️▫️

Pairing: ot8 x f!reader (poly!ateez x reader)

Genre: Fluff, Smut, Mature, Yandere

Warnings: possessiveness, controlling act and obsession.(there are arguments between them a bit but remember Ateez is too good to do that).Gang bang. Exhibition. Oral(f.recv),dom!ateez, cum play,nipple play,anal sex, overstimulation, orgasm denial,fingering, a bit of pain, exhaustion,marking,biting,sucking, drinking, making up sex without protection ( don’t do it in real life if you don’t want to unnecessarily increase the population.)

W.C: 11.9k

Note: @justhere4kpop my dear friend has requested me for poly ateez (the one in the event post) and I can’t just ignore it so bear with this ‘don’t know what to do’ fic.

Taglist: In the end of the fic

Come on everybody. Slow it down, make it bouncy.

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Network: @cultofdionysusnet @k-vanity

——————————————————————————

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT UNDER THE POST🔞

*Buckle up your seatbelts and lets go on a long ride.*

“Wow…...” your eyes sparkling while looking at the mirror which is reflecting your figure in the new dress. You are dressed up in a body hugging black strapless dress ending on your mid-thigh. You didn’t expect it to look so good on you. Well, you are going out to a night club with your friends after getting an off for one week from the workplace. So, to relieve the stress of your overtime work from your previous month, this is the best option for you. Satisfied with your look, you glanced at the clock and it shows exactly eight in the night and your friend might come up anytime soon to pick you up.

Just the moment you locked the main door behind you, a voice spoke up.

“Hey beautiful!” OMG don’t. This voice is so deep and attractive and you know the owner of this damn voice very well. Turning around, you found the gorgeous man standing in front of you with a white funky t-shirt and torn styled denim jeans. His newly died silver hair with this casual outfit is making him the most attractive man to ever exist.

“Oh my god Taeyong please. I mean don’t call me like this when am just your best friend, I might end up proposing you on this spot here right now.” You fake gasped and then ended up laughing with him. Your other friend who is in the car made a loud horn sound to bring both of your attention towards him, Jaehyun. Another attractive man in your life, you don’t know why they are your best friends when they could have got other girls to make friends but all three of you are friends since middle school and then are inseparable. Well maybe I look good too.

“Let’s go. Hurry up or that grumpy ass will invite the whole colony with this horn.” You both are continuously laughing on your way towards the car. Getting inside it, Taeyong sat on the passenger seat and you in the back because you love to lean in between the space of front two seats to annoy them. You three made your ride to The Neo Bouncy Club.

Getting outside the car, Taeyong holds your hand on one side and you glance to your other side to take a look of Jaehyun, then you see him in his black shirt and denims with hands folded till elbow. Oh gosh! This man. He looks at you and then smirked. Taeyong pulled you towards the entrance and the other one followed you two.

Entering the club, your nose hit with the usual alcohol smell mixed with some fruit flavored smokes. The neon green disco lights all around the dance floor blinking with the rhythm of the music playing aloud. You smiled when you remember that you are here for fun with your friends so you pulled both of them towards the drink section.

“Shall we order drinks?” hoping to get positive reply, they both denied. Weird. Jaehyun is always usually the one to offer drinks among you three then what’s the cause of sudden change in behaviour.

“I don’t think we should drink now.” The tall one said looking at you and then towards Taeyong who was busy reading out the different names of the drinks displayed on the screen and making annoyed face when not getting the actual pronunciations. You flicked on his head.

“Ouch! What?” Taeyong with confusion in his eyes looks at you both.

“I told her we should not drink now knowing who is here.” Taeyong paused for a moment, expression changing to serious similarly as Jaehyun. He then nodded on his friend’s words.

“Woah wait there. Who is here?”

If they are referring to rest of NCT then you know, Kun will scold you for drinking when he knows how badly you and Taeyong can’t control yourselves in drunk state.

“Them.”

Both of them replied together while settling down with you on one of the corner sofas. You looked at them laughing loudly.

“So? It’s not like I will listen to Kun today. I am here for fun and I can do anything so come on with me, don’t let anyone to stop us from having fun.”

Jaehyun looking directly to you when speaking.

“Y/N……. it’s not about Kun. It’s them.”

He glanced towards a crowd of people dancing, you mimic his action but saw no one. You failed to notice that someone was staring at you from there all this time. You turned back to them, “Fine. You stay here, me and Taeyong will enjoy so see you later boy.”

“Y/N-” you pulled the said man towards the dance floor with you and on your way, you both took some drinks for yourselves.

Someone behind you both did the same thing.

Taeyong turns you to face him, “Y/N, they are here. I know I should not bring up this right now but unfortunately when entering the club, I saw them, ATEEZ. All of them are here. I locked eyes with one of them and they know now that am aware of their coming.”

Your smiling face disappeared when you realized what they were referring to all these times. THEM! They are back here. So? It should not matter to you. Everything between you and them has ended long back ago and you guys have parted your ways on your own.

“So? It’s not like they matter to me anymore. I know one of them is the owner of this club but this is my favorite one and also because the hotel above this club is Jaehyun’s.”

“I know you don’t care about them” taking a sip of his drink he added, “but the look in their eyes when they saw you with me entering the club was telling otherwise.”

You both have finished your drinks so he kept the glasses on a nearest counter.

“Stop it TY. You are thinking too much. They were just probably looking at me because they saw me after two years or maybe they were looking at someone else.”

Taeyong smiled at you and he hugged you tightly. The hug felt so nice because this comfort is all you need right now, maybe you are showing off your strong personality in front of him but deep down you are afraid and sad for them.

You are sad because all your memories spent with them are flashing to you and now you get that how much you still adore those precious moments with them.

They were your family, the only family after your parents died but suddenly one day you thought that everything is wrong. Why? Maybe you thought everything in your life is not meant forever. No. Everything was right in your end except that one day when one of your old school friends was totally spreading rumors about you to them. The way they bombarded you with questions later that night hurt you and you decided to part with them when they don’t have a minimum trust for you.

You are afraid. Why? Well, you don’t know yourself.

The loud beat of the music in the background is just the contrast to the comfortable moment you are sharing with your best friend. Taeyong got a call and he looked worried but regain his composure to face you.

“Y/N? I need to go because you know we have our night business and we can’t miss that. You are here today only to enjoy but I know you can enjoy all by yourself because you prefer that way while drinking alone. Also, if you need help to go back home, just call one of the dream members from upstairs, they will help you.”

 He gave you his little smile and goes towards the exit where Jaehyun was already standing, before going away, the latter gave you a quick wink towards you. What a flirt!

“You were enjoying the hug too much.” Oh! the owner of this deep voice, you know him; The owner of the club.

Turning around you fake smiled, “Mingi….” He didn’t smile rather scan your whole figure and the lights falling on his face clearly shows his tensed jaw. Is he angry? You hesitantly brushed the side of the dress to see if something is wrong or not. His dark look is going well with his all-over black outfit of black shirt and black pant.

“Didn’t you have something else to wear?”

“What?”

“This is completely looking like you have just wrapped a shiny black plastic around you just to cover your private parts leaving the rest of the body visible to all hungry eyes here.”

Okay, then he is referring to himself as well. Right?

“Excuse me. You are no one to judge me when you are also one of them.” You are getting frustrated as to why you are not getting yourself to enjoy the day instead every worst possibility is bringing them in between.

He holds one of your hands and gripped it tightly. The grip hurts you a bit but before you can react to the pain, he pulled you towards a direction.

“What the hell are you doing? Leave my hand. Where are you taking me?”

Your shouts are getting dispersed in the loud music. Some people are cursing you both when Mingi was harshly pushing away the people coming in front of you both while making his way through the crowds. You both reached near a L-shaped sofa but you didn’t notice it yet, you were busy looking at the crowd to find any of the NCT members. You suddenly tripped because Mingi suddenly stopped in his tracks, you looked at him and then towards the front.

Wait. They look so hot and more handsome than last you saw them. They all are in their casual outfits that they usually wear when going to clubs. You look at each one of them precisely, starting from left is Yeosang in a plain black t-shirt and denim sitting annoyed beside san and wooyoung in between them wearing similar outfit like him but white and blue t-shirts respectively and laughing at the phone in san’s hand. Next to San, sitting in the exact corner is Jongho in a white tee with denim jacket and jeans. He is looking down maybe thinking something. Next to him is Hongjoong and Seonghwa in leathers and lastly beside them is Yunho in white shirt folded till elbow and denim. And GIRL, He is already staring at you with his famous smirk.

“Look who is here.” Nice. Tell everyone that a special guest is here. Each one of them quickly followed Yeosang’s eyes and they saw you standing beside Mingi and glaring at him.

“Why did you bring me here?”

“I told him to.” Hongjoong swirling the liquid in the glass said with a smile rather looks like a smirk. His attention is towards the glass and the liquid movement and your eyes focusing on it as well.

“Why?”

“We want you here away from those hungry eyes and those boys?” Yunho spoke from the end of the sofa and sit himself comfortably in a crossed leg position.

“Huh? What are you even saying, just shut up. I was here with my best friends and they just went for their sudden work and now I was just going to have fun with the other friends who are just upstairs.” You are getting annoyed and tried to turn around but the grip on your hand didn’t let that happen rather pulled you towards the glass table in front of them.

“Did we tell you to leave?” Seonghwa said placing the wine glass on the table.

“Why will I listen to you?”

“You actually never listened to us and always acted on your own.” Jongho looked up at your standing figure and eyes scanning the body.

“Don’t act like we know each other. Just let me enjoy my day and you guys carry on yourselves with whatever you were doing.”

“Why are you out in these clothes?” San spoke, he is no more laughing like before but glaring at you. You jerked your hands from Mingi’s grip and brushed your hairs before tugging them behind your ears.

“Oh gosh. First Mingi and now you, what is the problem of me wearing anything. This is my day to enjoy myself and you all let me do it.” Wooyoung laughed at your annoyed plead. He stands up and comes in front of you. Hands tracing your face slowly and then he gripped your jaw tightly.

“Follow what we are telling you to do or else you have to regret more.”

You parted your lips to argue back with him when Yunho comes beside you where Mingi was standing before. Where is he? Looking around, you can’t spot him anywhere. Yunho holds your hand and kiss it softly, “We missed you.” He smiles at you.

“What?” Your confused eyes staring at both the males standing near you. Seeing them after years is really telling you how much you have missed them but this is not right. You can’t be with them again. They don’t trust you or love you like once they had.

San came up to you and pulled you towards the sofa and made you sit between his thighs with Yeosang on his side. Your short dress riding up made all the males eyes focusing on your thigh. Your attempt to pull the dress down earned a slap on your thigh from him.

“Ahh…..”

“Oh love, how much I missed this sound?” Hongjoong spoke up, his eyes covered with some hairs falling in front looking directly at you. He nears to your frame and sat himself down on his knees in front of you. Putting his two hands on your bare thighs, he starts to draw patterns and this is giving you some sensation which you don’t want to feel right now. Yeosang is playing with your hairs. San is holding you tightly on the place. You were looking at Seonghwa who was busy telling a man about something and when he caught you staring at him, he spoke up, audible to his brothers.

“I got the room we asked for, let’s go there before someone becomes impatient.”

You felt a kiss on one of your thighs and when you look down, the man sitting in front of you is smiling innocently. He speaks softly, “that’s good then.”

“I can’t wait for that.” Wooyoung said excitedly while putting a hand around Yunho. The latter agreed nodding his head.

You heard someone whispered in your ears beside you, “me too.” His breath fanning over your ears. When you look that way, you see Yeosang smirking at you.

“I’m not going anywhere with you all.” You glared at Yeosang but your body becomes stiff when San’s hot breath hits your other ear and he licks the ear lobe.

“San…..”

“Yes pretty. Dou you want something?” You look towards others where some are either smirking or others pretending as if everything is normal.

“Who said we are going to listen to you?” Jongho suddenly spoke from the corner and you both turned to that direction.

Honjoong is still sitting down in front of you and when your gaze falls on him, he smiles “Let’s talk out everything first. Will you?”

You nodded on his words and Seonghwa directed all of you to the destined room.

On your way to the private room, you are hoping to stumble with any of your friends and then you can just escape this situation. Somehow, in the corner of your mind, you are feeling excited to meet them again after such a long time and just don’t want to ruin the moment when you just got back them.

Entering the room, your heartbeat increases and you can smell your favorite aroma of air freshner and the red led light decoration making the atmosphere unnecessarily too hot even when there is an air condition.

“Come Y/N.”

The oldest who is having a firm grip around your wrist all the way from downstairs to the second floor of the hotel pulls you to a corner. There was a similar L-shaped corner sofa with two mini sofas on other sides of the tea table. All the males scattered themselves around the room. You sit on the mini sofa facing the bed and you can see Wooyoung and San sitting on the edge with their focus on you. You avert your eyes to the corner chair beside the bed where Jongho is sitting and rummaging through the drawers of the bedside stand. Then, there Seonghwa is already sitting beside you holding your hands on his lap and waiting for others to settle down.

“Y/N? How are you?” Yeosang asked you slowly from the other mini sofa.

Your eyes search for any roguish look on his face but his look is otherwise, “I’m fine. Of course, I need to be fine when you all just being out there believing some bitch.”

“It’s not like that Y/N.”

“Then what is it Hongjoong?” You looked over to the big space where Yunho sitting near you and then Hongjoong to your exact opposite and beside him Mingi.

“You misunderstood us.”

“Look Mingi, now you can’t make myself the guilty here.”

“Y/N, please relax and listen.” Seonghwa squeezed your hand.

“I’m trying but I don’t know what’s the point of explaining anything when everything was over back then and we are good on our own way.”

“No one is better than having you around with us.” Yunho said. “You are not happy too.”

“I am fine and all these months I was enjoying my new life without you all.”

“Yeah, sure those two boys are really keeping company with you in every possible way, no wonder how you both were hugging each other.”

“He is my bestfriend.”

Some made noises of annoyance or some just ‘tsch’ in reply.

“Y/N. I’m sorry.”

Seonghwa is always the first one to apologise to you or to other seven of them because him being the oldest, he never tries to show his authority like Hongjoong but wanted to take responsibilities of everyone’s problem and make them feel at ease by reminding them that he can take care of them.

“I’m sorry that we acted like that. We didn’t mean to upset you rather we were just trying to know the real story apart from her lies. I guess we should have given you some time. You seemed upset when she treated you like that on that day.”

Yunho added, “We never trusted her single word. We believe in you. We only believe you baby.”

“Even if I lie?”

“Yes.”

“How come you never try to find me or never tried to convince me to get me back home?”

Hongjoong made an eye contact with you, “Who told we never know your whereabouts?”

“Huh?”

Yeosang smiled, “We have been keeping updates about you every day and so that’s why I just asked you how are you.”

“So, you all were stalking me?”

“Well absolutely because we can’t let anyone get to own what is ours.”

“You are stupid Mingi. It’s not like some random people gets to own me whenever they want.”

“It’s not about some randomness. We can see how you have this little crush on Jaehyun.” San suddenly spoke up from the bed and then when you saw that everybody’s eyes are on you.

“WTH! He and Taeyong are my bestfriends and they were always there with me whenever I needed help and I always have the assurance to run back to them to escape my problem.”

“And what about us? Were we not there?”

“Wooyoung. I didn’t mean that.”

“Did we not help you with anything? We were the one you cried and spend sleepless nights for your parents. We were the one who always prioritize you on the top before anything. We cared about your happiness, your career, your needs and your love. We used to keep you at home only to ourselves but when we found out your loneliness, we let you to go outside to have fun with your friends but now your friends are everything to you only just because of that one night misunderstanding.”

“Woo- “

“No. I don’t want to listen.”

“Wooyoung, shut up.”

The one beside you made him shut up and hold your face to look at his smiling face, “We know that you still miss us. You are just afraid how to express yourself after all these months.”

“I don’t know…” wooyoung made a ‘tsch’ sound and Jongho shot him a glare.

Hongjoong poured his drink in a glass from one of the bottles displayed on the centre table, “We are not here for casual talk. Why do you think we are here today? Coincidence? No, not really. We knew about your plans for today from some NCT members and this was the only chance to have you talk to us somewhere private.”

“I don’t want to talk to any of you. I have to go.”

“Do you think after waiting for all these times and letting you to collect yourself just to say sorry and let you go?”

“Why will you not let me go? I understand that I misunderstood you all but you could have convinced me to return in some other ways.”

“You would not have listen.”

“Jongho….. I waited everyday for one of you to come and take me back to where I actually belong. No one came and now after all these days here, you are suddenly apologizing to me for that day.”

 Tears rolled down your cheeks and you clutched Seonghwa’s jacket when he hugged you. His cologne hits your nose and then when your memories with him flashed in front of you.

“Shh.. It’s okay. We are here now and you are not alone.”

“You all will leave me alone again if this kind of thing happen in future. Wooyoung will blame me for everything again. I don’t need your sympathy when I know nothing will last long.”

“Y/N.”

Someone is behind you and the person is stroking your head to calm down your sobs.

 “You used to share everything with me. So, trust me after seeing your condition like this, none of us are going to let this repeat again.”

You collect yourself but your face is messed up with tear strains and loose hairs all over your face. You turned to see the person behind you and see San giving you a comforting smile. You look around the room for once and then poured a glass for yourself not knowing if you even like the drink or not. Yeosang was about to stop you from drinking it but you stare at him and Hongjoong prevents him from interrupting you. The leader is the only one who knows you well, exactly how much your body is adaptable to everything. You chugged down the drink of bitter taste with closed eyes. In this messed up situation, the bitter taste seems somewhat pleasant but still the disgust on your face extended a glass of water from Mingi.

“We wanted to get you back but Taeyong threatened us not to go near you or he might have to report us”, Mingi said.

“I didn’t know. He did?”

“Of course, he would not have told you. He never wanted you to be stressed more. No matter what, we should have come to you earlier.”

“How can I believe you?”

“How you want to believe us?”

“Do you- Do you all still love me?”

Hongjoong chuckled, “What is your wild guess?”

“I don’t know….”

“Your mind is really working slow today. You are the only mean to live our life. We are nothing without you. You don’t know how some of them were like after you left us. You are the heart of our party. They were uncontrollable without you but to give you space I had to restrain them from all the possible acts they could have pulled off to get you back. Wooyoung was in top of that list and that’s why he spoke to you like that earlier.”

Your eyes followed where the said man is sitting and when he saw you staring at him, he avoided your gaze.

“Prove it.”

Your eyes taking in their looks with equal amount of time to each and their confused face staring down at you.

“What?”

“Prove it that you all still love me.”

“Y/N….”

“Do it before I change my mind.”

“All of us?”

“Yes.”

Seonghwa exchanged a look with Hongjoong when he guides you towards the bed and Wooyoung stood up and takes your previous spot.

 “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Yes. You all said that I am the heart of your party so prove how important is this heart to you to enjoy your party.”

Without wasting a second moment to hear your complaints or for you to change your mind suddenly, he attached his lips to you and your back slowly hit the bed with him on top of yourself. You closed your eyes on the impact and let him do whatever he wants to do right now. His soft hands brushing your cheeks and lips dancing with yours as if they are the ones dancing on a rhythm in this party with the melody of all past memories. His kiss always tastes sweet and you don’t know whether its because of his strawberry addiction or his sweet love for you. You opened your eyes to look at him and see him already staring at you with heart eyes. When you both were out of breath, he moved back and rested his forehead on yours.

“I missed us.”

“Me too.”

You are somewhat warm to know that Seonghwa is the one leading the situation to wherever this is going. You feel a bit shy on seeing their lustful eyes are all on you. Seonghwa takes your act to let him assure you.

“It’s okay Y/N. You don’t have to be shy. Its not like we haven’t seen this before.”

You nodded and let him to ride up your dress to expose your panty. His face moved closer to the heat and kissed your clothed clit. You gasped on the sudden contact and clutched his hair. He sits himself on his knees to remove his jacket and shirt and reveal his abs and well-built muscles and then when you can see those flexing muscles, the muscles which kept you warm underneath it, in tired nights

 Your spread-out body in the middle of the bed is getting the attention of eight males all at once and this is sending sparks to you. Every touch from the man near your feet is igniting the spark. These touches and the longingness in their eyes for you. You have missed all of these so much. You missed laughing with them, waking up with them after cuddle nights or sex nights. Them showing love to you in different ways and you returning the love to them is what you missed all these past months.

Seonghwa returned to resume his action and this time he slides down your panty to expose the main treat of the party. He quickly licked a mouthful strip of your arousal and you moaned. Your moan earned some grunts from all around the room.

“My pretty baby tastes the sweetest.” He inserted a finger to prep you and the bed dip beside your head. You avert your gaze from the man between your legs to the new comer beside you to see Jongho peeking down at you. He brushed your hairs away from your face and give you a soft smile.

“You don’t need to supress your moans. Please let us hear you. I missed your sweet sounds when you are feeling so good.”

“Jongho…”

The sudden curl of the finger hit your g-spot and you move your attention to the man below who is eager to have your eyes on him when he is the one giving you pleasure. Getting the attention he needed, he plopped inside another finger to stretch you out and his thumb spreading your juices all over the folds and the walls inside as if he is preparing his favorite dessert with garnishing it with chocolate syrup. Your silent moans turned into a big gasp when he suddenly entered you. You didn’t notice how he paused for a moment to free himself from his pants and then enter you when he felt you are ready.

“Seonghwa!”

“It’s okay baby. Calm down. Relax and just focus on the pleasure not the pain.”

Jongho kissed your head and added, “You came here to relax and enjoy in the first place. So, we will have every possible way to take away all of you pain and let you enjoy our private party.”

Your teary eyes stare directly to Seonghwa’s lustful eyes, “h-have you taken the protection?”

“Don’t worry, you don’t have to think about becoming a mother of my child right now.”

“That’s only his words. You can’t be sure of others.”

Everyone chuckled on Wooyong’s yell for accusing Seonghwa. Your pain turns into pleasure with the increase of the intensity of each thrust. Seonghwa intertwined his fingers with you and kissed you softly and thrusts you deeper hitting your g-spot. Seonghwa is always the one who is gentle with you whenever you are not in a mood but he can be a monster if you allow him to wreck you. Being the oldest has a lot of responsibilities but you never treated him that way and let him feel he can also voice out his problems to you. You always loved hearing him and then spending days and nights with him.

You moaned into his mouth when he is hitting your spot to the edge and with a last hit, you let it loose. Seonghwa grunt and slowed his movement

“Seonghwa….”

“Fuck.”

As promised, he pulled it out quickly to let his seeds spill over your belly and wiping it off slightly. The feeling of love by Seonghwa and him being so close with you and your fragile body shaking under his warmth.

“I love you Y/n.” You nodded and collecting your thoughts to reply him back but he kisses you on the forehead and shushed you.

“It’s okay love, you don’t have to say anything to me. I know you love me but just let me prove it to you. For now, you only listen to me and you can say it to me someday later.”

All this time, Jongho was praising you with sweet words and stroking your head to ease you. Seonghwa retreat himself to disappear into washroom and dressed up himself only in boxers and pants. Your foggy head is not taking in the surrounding well but suddenly you felt someone kissed your feet and in reflex you curl your toes, a shirtless Yeosang trailing kisses from your feet up to your leg and inner thigh with adoration in his eyes is looking up to you.

“Yeosang…I….need you.”

“Wait a moment bird, let me adore my bird’s delicate body after so many months. I missed this heat radiating from you. My cold lips were aching for your heat and I can’t waste any bit of it."

Your juices mixed with Seonghwa’s are still leaking from you and you felt his hot breath near your core and then your legs trying to close the distance. His strong hands grip your thigh to make it still and he rose his body to hover you and pull off the dress from you revealing your hidden delicacy to him. He eyed you intensely and smiled at you. He plopped a boob inside his mouth earning a loud moan from you.

“Yeosang!”

“Mine.”

He repeated the action to your other one and sucking the nipples hard. Your hands gripping the bedsheet strongly as if you will float if you lose the grip. He kissed on the middle of the chest and the kisses moved from your chest to shoulders and stomach and then to your lips. The kiss is delicate, too delicate than his previous actions but it is quick because you can feel his hands moved away from your breasts to his pants to free his paining tiny member. His member is teasing your entrance and you are whimpering under him. With a last kiss, he thrusts inside you. His thrusts are rough, not too rough but a bit rougher than the oldest one with whom you spent a soft sex few moments ago.

“Slow down. Y-you are t-too fast..”

“It’s okay bird. It will be okay. Just take it. I know you can.”

You moved your head sideways in pleasure to see Jongho is still on your left but this time Mingi has sat himself on the other side mimicking jongho’s posture. When he locks eyes with you, he gives you a soft smile. You can see seonghwa sitting on a chair near the bed just behind Jongho. They are all coming near to you even when you are in such intimate position with another member. They are trying to be close with you with every passing minute. Your hands strangled in Yeosang’s hair earning a grunt of pain when you pull his hair on him hitting your spot.

“Ah….”

“Say it loud. Let me hear my bird’s sweet melody.” He moved down to suck your neck and bites it leaving some bruises all over the neck.

With last three deep thrusts, you both cum together. He is still riding out his high and you with your blissed out face staring at him.

“I love you Y/N, my bird.” He scans your face and added, “Don’t say anything. We only want you to hear us today. I want to hear the sweet melody of my bird.”

He pecked you before retreating himself and giving you the kindest smile and went away. Your eyes followed him until your vision got blocked by Jongho’s muscular figure. He is taking off his shirt and your eyes following his movements that how quickly he was with freeing himself from all the unwanted materials on his body. You craned your neck to see San taking Jongho’s previous position and he smiled at you.

They all are smiling at you whenever you are locking eyes with them.

‘Are they mocking me?’

‘Are they making fun of my current situation?’

They are not interrupting others when they are having their private moments with you. They are giving you space even when they are practically so close with you. Mingi on other side is still occasionally stroking your upper arm or your shoulders to sense your uncomfortableness.

“Y/N. You are again overthinking. Your creased eyebrows and confused eyes literally telling me everything.”

This boy always understands you even when you don’t speak out your thoughts and still always try to calm you down with your overthinking nature. Jongho is always a reserved member among them and you know he is generally shy showing his feelings towards you and you are sure, he will hesitate to show his love for you in front of the presence of others.

“I missed you so much Y/N.”

Your mind cleared a bit to register his words and you try to give him a little smile. He reveals his gummy smile which totally making him look like a naked teenage boy standing at the foot of the bed. He quickly hovered you to trail kisses from your belly to your chest and to your lips. But, he didn’t kiss. He kissed you on the forehead.

“I want to break down this delicate body under me, with my love. But not today. Maybe some other day when it will be only you and me.”

“Jongho, its okay if you-“

“Shhhh…We told you to be quiet. Don’t speak and just enjoy the party.” And with that he thrusts inside you with his lips on you. You gasped into his mouth and he took the opportunity to explore the inside of your mouth with your teeths crashing each other and tongues rolling over, mixing your salivas. Every kind of fluid of your bodies are mixing at the moment, the way your hearts are sealing to each other again. His thrusts are fast and with your previous orgasms, this one brings you to your next one closer too soon. His hands gripping your hip is definitely leaving bruised and his handprints and similarly your one hand gripping his hair and the other one bedsheet.

“I’m c-close Jon-g-gho.”

“Me t-too.”

That’s it. He quickly pulled out and moved apart.

‘Yeosang didn’t pull out.’ Jongho noticing your actions, quickly sush you by telling you that they will give you pills later if necessary.

“I love you, my apple.” he paused to stare at you for few seconds and added, “I had no one to read them stories to sleep. You were not there to ask me how was my day and to know my problems which I try to hide back from everyone. I’m so happy to get you back to myself. Losing you was the biggest nightmare to me.”

 He giving you his gummy smile for the last time, went away. Someone is stroking your legs from the other side and then when you see hongjoong with a concern on his face looking at you.

“Are you okay?”

You nodded. You can’t reply with your fucked up mind. You are thinking of letters to form a word.

“You can go for more right?”

You again nodded. He took this as his signal to prepare himself to come closer to your body. San wiped off some of your sweat from the face and pat your head. Your attention is full on the leader. The way he took off his jacket attractively and throwing it off on the sofa and then swiftly removing his t-shirt showing his hard works on building his perfect body as he desired for himself. No. The body he always eager to build up to show you that he is better than everyone for you and only you. Of course, not comparing to his other members of the group.

“Follow the light signal, okay? If you are feeling too much, just tell me the light.”

With your assurance, he brings his face near your heat and giving it a peck before sliding in his tongue and sucking your clit hard.

“Hongjoong...”

Every inch of your body is delicate and your core is literally a flooded tank. He is sucking up all your leaking juice. He can be the one to listen to everybody patiently and coming up with final decisions but he is not patient inside the locked doors. He is never gentle with you on bed because he likes to show off his authority even if it means during the sex.

The moment you were close with your climax, he stops and moved upward to kiss you. The example of not being gentle. He ignored your whimpers and kissed you roughly. The way he is moving his lips as if you are his ‘thirty seconds to fame’ artwork and he has to give his all in his art to prove himself the best to you.

He inserts you and he grunts on feeling the wet walls swallowing him. You gripped his shoulders to take him inside your sensitive part without any pain.

“I am the best for you, You are mine. No one can take you away from me.”

“Hongjoong-“

“Mine to love. Mine to hate. Your everything is mine.”

His thrusts are fast and rough. He has no patience or mercy for you during this moment but he always apologizes later for his actions. But you kinda like him this way because of his way, this side is what turns you on the most and the first time you fell in love with him was when he was angry with Wooyoung at an event in college. Well speaking of this another boy, you can hear someone saying he would be the last one to participate in this party.

“Fuck.”

He didn’t pull out but thrusts deeper and you let him to do it until he rode out his high. You don’t have anymore energy to fight him back or to explain anything to anyone.

“I love you, my lady.”

“Hmm..”

“I love you and want to show you everything I can do for you. I will wait for your orders everytime, scold me, hit me, shout at me but don’t leave me again. Please.” You nodded.

 He caressed your cheeks and kissed your lips then forehead and then finally on your chest before detaching himself and went away.

You are lifted up by someone pulling your hands and making you sit when you felt the bed dips behind you. You slightly open your eyes to see freshen up Yeosang holding your weak body and smiling down at you. Before you can contemplate what is going on, a pair of hands turn you around and made you sit facing them. The person was sitting naked leaning to the headboard and legs spread wide open and you in between his legs and your legs over his on either side. Your body is a bit too weak to handle your sitting posture on your own so the person in front of you is supporting your balance.

“Are you still with me Y/N?”

“M-mingi…”

Your previous orgasms are still hitting your body and you are floating in Cloud 9. You don’t know if your make up is still okay or how is even your smudged face looking like right now. You are definitely reflecting ugliness to him. His one hand keeping your balance and the other one caressing your face. Your thoughts are clouding between their genuine love for you and they be leaving you for being so ugly at this moment.

“Yes doll, it’s me. Your Mingi.”

“I-I’m with you…Don’t leave me.”

“No one is leaving you, my doll.” Your sensitive and delicate body cant control your emotions and you started sobbing. Mingi wiped off your rolling tears and kissed the tear stained cheek.

“Can you take me?”

You nodded on his words and then he guides you to sit on his member. You jerked when his hard tiny partner hit your soft folds.

“Ah…”

“Just tell me if you are not okay and I will stop. I don’t want to hurt you. I want you to relax.”

“Mingi…..I can do it. I’m….I’m fine.” Your tried to move your hips when he grips it still to make you stop.

“Whats wrong?” you are scared if you have done anything wrong but Mingi’s assuring smile made you calm.

“Stay still. I told you to relax so let me do all the work.”

He is grinding his hips and thrusting upwards making you bounce on his laps. Your moans and whimpers echoed in the room. Your hands holding tightly Mingi’s shoulders for your dear life. Your body is too weak but you don’t want to make him stop to make him feel like he is hurting you. He is not hurting you maybe his words did that day but not today. He is a very sensitive person when comes to emotions but he can handle them very well to make others valuable with the attention they needed when they are vulnerable so he stays strong. Maybe he is a giant one in the group but he is really a softie when it comes to care for you. The sweet words flow from his mouth with his deep voice is really something that make you feel like the most precious person.

“You are doing so good for me doll.” He added,“Are you okay?”

“Yes…just too much.”

“Am I hurting you?” he slowed down his movements to which you squeezed your hold on him. His hands tracing your side frame to release any sort of tension in your body because of discomfort.

“NO NO Mingi. Please don’t stop. Its just too much at a time but please don’t stop. I want you. I need you to fill me up.”

He kissed your lips to make your ramblings stop. He knows that you are not in your right mind at this moment but you are conscious enough to let him know if you are on the verge to fall apart. His thrusts are a bit too deep and you can feel his length poking inside of you and then when it hit the g-spot. The familiar building up of a knot in your stomach sends a shiver all through your body. His one hand holding your hips to thrust into you and other hand holding your neck to deepen the kiss. He is kissing you with passion like you both kissed on your first day. This memory flash to your mind and you smiled a little in your kiss.

“Why a-are you s-smiling?”

You shook your head and rest your head on his shoulder and your mouth near his ears. Your hot breath on his neck is pushing him to the climax.

“I-I’m go-going to cum.”

“Cum on me doll.”

Your knot looses and let yourself break free. He caressed your bare back and kissed your shoulder. His thrusts for three more times and then he quickly pulls himself out to spill his seeds on your lower belly. He pats your head and your eyes closed to the touch.

“I love you, my doll. I missed you so much.”

He kissed you on your head and you can feel someone pulls you away from him and puts you on their lap. Your hooded eyes try to take in the situation but your hazy vision is not letting you to get a grip of the image of your surroundings. Your heavy breathing slowed down and someone is rocking you on their lap like you are a baby being protected from the monsters of your night mare.

“It’s okay, Y/N. Relax. I’m here. Take some rest.”

“Yunho…. No…. I can.”

“Shhh….Close your eyes. Calm your nerves. You are too exhausted and I don’t want to make you feel overwhelmed.”

You slightly open your eyes to look around to find Seonghwa, Hongjoong, yeosang and Jongho are all dressed up and sitting on the sofa and honjoong is looking back at you while rest three of them are busy with something. He nodded to your direction, you can feel yunho is speaking something but you cant make out the words or even you don’t know if he is speaking to you or someone else. Your legs loosely placed together on one side of his lap and your whole body  engulfed in his warm hug. His hot tight abs are in touch with your melting weak body making you the most delicate thing in that room.

The air is filled up with the smell of drinks and sex. You are not a fan of drinking other than enjoying your vodka from this club but the taste of different flavors from the different kisses and sharing such intimate moments during the taste is what you love the most with them. That’s why you missed coming to clubs with them.

It was never been easy to be in a poly relationship with eight boys but their love for you really proved their genuine need of you in their life. Everytime you thought back then to end this thing between you all, they pulled out something different each time to make you forget about your decisions. You loved it. You loved them equally but differently. Their way of showing you love is always different from others and you liked the uniqueness and loved them in their own way. Maybe you want different kinds of love at a time which is not burdening you or overwhelming you but making you feel safe and important.

San sitting on the bed near you caressed your legs when he sees you zoning out. Your eyes travel back to his face and he signalled you to close your eyes. You let the exhaustion engulf you and snuggled into Yunho’s neck to which he holds you tighter.

The atmosphere is silent and the sound of air conditioner is audible which had no existence to your ears few seconds back. The room is cold and even every specific thing inside the room is quite cold except the warm bodies all around the room. A tiny sleeping body is being hugged by a giant in his boxers and staring down at the figure in his hold. Another pair of eyes is focusing on the sleeping face.

“San. Do you want to go next?”

The pair of eyes travels from your face up to the speaking person’s face to give him a head shake.

“ No Yunho. Last time she saw you and wanted you. It’s better if you go next. I can wait here unlike someone else.” He glanced to the person sitting on the other side on the other side of the bed.

“Shut up. I am waiting for my turn since the first person made his move. If you were in my position then only you could have felt my pain.”

“Oh! So painful story. I’m so hurt hearing you. Can I help you with it?”

Wooyoung made an annoyed face and throw a pillow at the smirking person. Suddenly a phone starts to ring from the bedside table and it was yours with the caller id ‘Markieee’ on display. Wooyoung quickly picked it up before it can disturb your sleep even more.

“Hello?”

“Yo girl Y/N. Where are you? Taeyong told us you will be near the dance floor but couldn’t find.”

“She is not in the club.”

“Who are you?”

“Lot more important one than you in her life.”

“Huh? Tell me you shit. Is my Y/N okay? Where is she?”

“She is not your-“

Hongjoong snatched away the phone from his hold to shot him a glare and smiled in the call.

“She is safe with us. I’m Hongjoong. Tell me where you are right now and I can go explain it to you.”

Ending the call with Mark, he signalled Seonghwa and Jongho to follow him. They glanced at you for the last time before leaving the room. Yeosang scan around the bed and returned his attention to whatever he was doing on his phone.

More than one hour has passed after you fell asleep. Yunho laid you down in the middle of the bed and went towards your feet. He holds your ankle and moved them apart revealing your now dried up cunt. He kissed on your knees and then in your inner thighs. His sloppy kiss echoed around the room and then he was mouthing your heat. Your slow movements made him halt and you blinked your eyes open to quickly notice the commotion between your legs. The giant man sends a smile to your sleepy face.

“Wake up, Tiny.”

Your body squirming under his tight grip on your hip to devour you. His tongue knows the exact turn and twist to give you the sparks and to make you feel good in no time. Your hands gripping the bedsheet moves down to strangle his hairs and pushed him further into your heat but he groans.

“You are hurting me. Let me be on my own. Move your hands.”

You quickly retreat your hands but when his tongue starts to play in fast pace, it made your back curled up and your hands again tried to approach him but got held by the two men on your either side.

“Easy there. Take it. We know you can.”

“San. I cant. I want to touch him, please.”

“You will. Just wait a moment.” His words assured you and you hit your climax. You can feel Yunho is sucking up all your spilling juices and with a last kiss, he moves upward to kiss you on your lips to give you a taste of yourself for the first time this night. His kiss is slow and dominative and the way he is biting your lips, you know it will be swollen later.

“The tiny one is the sweetest.” He slightly taps your nose with a finger made you giggle a bit.

 Yunho, he is always the dominative one on bed. He will listen to all your sulking demands other times but you can’t get to say a single word on bed. He likes to wreck you and see you whimper underneath him, he likes to watch you fall apart under him because that is how he knows that he is making you feel good like no one else can ever do. The way he pushed himself into you and tears pooled in the corner of your eyes. They left your hand loose and you quickly hugged Yunho who is hovering your tiny frame and your hands wander over his flexing back.

Feeling your hands tickling to his skin, he thrusts deeper and hits your spot making you scream out his name.

“Yunho!”

“Am I making you feel good? Say it tiny.”

“Yes yes you are.”

He moves his face closer to your neck and sucks your sweet spot before biting it down in the process. Your fingers dig deeper into his back and your nails scratching leaving read marks all over. He likes to be marked like this and to see it later that how he can perfectly get a hold of you and make you feel good. The increase of his pace ignites your body knowing that he is also close to the edge like you. His wet mouth sounds leaving marks all over your neck and collar bones and you moaning his name near his ears filled the room.

“Cum.”

You didn’t even let the word to complete and you come on his dick. He came inside you and ride out his high with you. Your mind this time again hit with the thought of possibilities of pregnancy. He pressed your folds tightly to not let to leak it out from you.

"Look at me."

“Yunho why-“

“I wanted to release myself inside of you. I missed us inside each other please.”

You nodded your head remembering how one of them had said to give you the pills and to stress on that. His fingers tracing over the marks over your soft skin and he smiled to them and other hand caressing your head to calm your restless nerves after the release. His sweats falling over your face is getting mixed with your own. You don’t mind if you get filled up with his sweats instead of his seeds.

“I love you tiny.” He paused to see if you are listening to him or not but when you nodded, he continues. “I missed how your tiny body fits perfectly under my cage. You are perfect to be mine.”

He pulls off himself and kissed your tummy before going away from the scene.

Someone caressed your cheek from your side and the touch is very familiar because the pattern he is tracing is his name. You slowly hold his hand and looked at him.

“San.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yes.”

“You can continue the party, right?”

“Yes, I can. Please san come here and let me show you.”

“Slowly. Slow down there, princess. I can see you don’t want me to feel left out but my first priority is you being fine with this.”

“Yes, I am fine with everything.”

“Really?” This time, wooyoung spoke up with a concern in his question.

“You all really proved me that no matter how far we were, you never forgot every detail of my body and the way you all used to love me.”

San has prepped himself and positioned himself between your legs. Your juices leaked out a little but he is stretching out your folds with his fingers to make some space available for his length. Wooyoung got up when Yeosang and Mingi called him towards them and then when you can hear Mingi has bought some clothes from downstairs and the rest words you cant figure out anymore.

“don’t think we all love you only for your body and to fulfil our needs.”

Your eyes meet San’s intense gaze. He is staring at you as if he is watching every single movement of his prey before jumping on them.

“Huh?”

“We love you because you are the only heart in our life.”

He is thrusting slowly and deeply. He is thrusting deeper with each sentence. He is always the one who likes to speak out his thoughts and make others to do the same to prevent misunderstanding and he was the first one who accused you on your friend’s rumors. He tried to apologize to you later but you never listened and today you are going to give your all ears to him.

“I know.”

“We love you because you were the one, the one we needed in our life to make us fill up the empty spaces, to make us believe in ourselves, to let us be our best. We love you because you are Y/N. You are always different from every girl we came across. If we only wanted to fuck then we could have done with someone else but to make us closer, to turn our relationship more intimate, this was the only option to show you love.”

He added, “The day you decided to leave us we didn’t stop you because we were also hating us to make you feel like we don’t trust you. Please trust me, you cant imagine how we tortured ourselves to hurt you that day. We want to forget that worst of a day and that’s why we are trying to prove us today.”

“Its okay San. You don’t have to explain me all these. Apart from having sex, you all have always proved your genuine love to me in your other actions and I cant explain how lucky I feel to be myself and to be with you all.”

He caressed your cheeks and thrust deeper increasing his pace. He hovers his palm over your boobs and squeezed them earning a loud gasp from you. You gripped the bedsheet tight and let your toes curl and hit the bed. He is hitting your g-spot and your muscles are becoming tensed with the building up of the knot inside you. He is trying to be gentle with you but losing himself in the way.

“San.. more MORE please.”

“yes princess, there you go.”

He is squeezing your breasts, taking one in the mouth and massaging the other one. He is also biting down the region around your boobs to mark you and every time he is releasing the skin from his mouth creating a sloppy sound. He trails the kisses from your chest to the jaw and to your lips tracing a line of saliva.

He is kissing you with the rhythm similar to the wet sounds from where you both are connected down with each other. Both of your sweaty body glowing under the dim light of the room. Your one hand travelled into his hairs when he again goes down to suck your boob. His one hand is squeezing and massaging you and the other one rubbing circles on your clit.

“San…I-I am close….please..”

“I know. Hold on a bit more and you will get what you want.”

He pushed into you deeper if its even possible and then when he asked you to come on his dick. He pulled it out and release himself on your thigh. You both are breathing heavily with him on top of you and the air is a mixture of smell of sweat and different sex. The mixed smell of sweat and sex is the smell of love. The wet sounds, the moans, the grunts, those bites, kiss, those praises during the thrusts are the symbols of love and all these months and years, you have missed it so much.

“I love you, my princess. I was a bad prince to you but now I have to prove myself to be the better one than all those in fairytales.”

You look over to him with your hooded eyes and smiling face and then when he kissed on your eyes and moved back to get over you.

The time didn’t even pass for a second when someone is patting your cheeks. When you open your eyes, you can see wooyoung peeking to you with lust and concern in his eyes.

“Are you with me?”

“hmm….”

Everything is now a bit more sensitive to you. You are curling your hands and legs causing the bedsheet to get displace even when its already wrecked. Your eyes which you can barely keep open for a second followed him. Taking your consciousness as a sign, he took off his boxers and climbs the bed to sit leaning to the headboard. He pulled you up with Yunho helping him to make you sit on his lap. His length is poking in your lower back and your hands travelled to touch it.

“Don’t.”

Your shook your head. Why? Does he not want you? Is he angry with you because he is your last? Tears roll down your eyes. You are sobbing on his lap and your bare back hits his sweaty tanned chest when he pulls you back and holds your chin to make you face him.

“Why are you crying?”

“I don’t want you to think I love others more and didn’t let you join before. I know you are already angry with me more because of what happened when we came to this room.”

“Shh..babygirl..stop crying. I’m not angry with you. I cant be angry with you eveer. I was just….. just felt hurt to see you after so long and your words and thoughts towards my brothers hurt me. I know you are going through a lot of emotions and was just ranting on it. Please forgive me.”

He pecks you.

“Wooyoung, I know you are hurt. I know everyone was hurt. I should have thought about your side as well. You all never left my side but I didn’t let you all to explain to me or try to understand and being a selfish girl to you all. I don’t deserve you back as I had part my ways like that.”

He shook his head and hid hand pats your head, “ Don’t say like that. We don’t know how we are so lucky to have someone like you in our life. You are the one we don’t deserve. You are too precious and perfect for us.”

“Woo-“ His middle finger slips inside your folds and push into you deeper and two fingers stretching you out and his palm pressing on your clit.

You hold his wrist and other grip his thigh. You are squeezing your eyes shut and your every limb of the body is weak and fragile and he is delicately handling every inch of it.

“Anything wrong?”

“No..but you don’t have to prepare me and please I know you are waiting for too long.”

He chuckles on your words. His fingers going in a faster pace and he is sucking your ears and the licking wet sounds and his grunts filling your ears sending direct spark to your core.

“Woo-young.”

“Hm?”

“I need you to fill me up.”

“Sush it because I wont be gentle like any of them. The moment I will insert you, you have to break apart in my arms.”

The curl of his finger and hitting the exact spot was the last thing you need to break loose on his fingers. You are just letting yourself calm down with your release when he inserts his length to your back hole.

“Wooyoung!”

“Is it hurting you? Should I stop here?”

Yunho ran to your side and then when you lift your head up and your teary eyes looking up to him.

“What happened Y/N?”

“No nothing. Its just…I didn’t expect it all of a sudden.” He holds your face and scans if you are lying or not. Wooyoung holding you still with his grip on you hip so that you can’t hurt yourself with any little movement with him inside of you.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes Yunho.”

Nodding his head, he went back to join others and you can see others. Wait! Only Yunho, Yeosang and San is there but where are the others? Yeosang caught you looking at them confused and saw your orbs searching for others.

“Y/N?”

“Where-“

“The rest of them are downstairs. You don’t have to worry. No one has left you.”

Wooyoung taps your shoulders to signal you about him wanting to move. You nodded and he started to grind his hip forward to thrust inside you. You craned your neck to look towards him and he kissed your nose and then your lips. You can feel the taste of alcohol the most in his kiss because he drinks the most than others and he likes to taste different flavors. His hands squeezing your boobs and moving all over the chest and belly even sometimes pinching the nipples. He is literally sucking your lips and if possible, he can eat you up in any instant. You can feel his desperation in feeling you after such long time and even it feels too much for you, you will not tell him to stop because you want him to love you this way, in his own way.

He is always the most energetic and hyped up in the group and he cares for others before himself. If anyone bad mouth or insults him, it does not matter to him until someone doing the same with his close ones.

He breaks the kiss to move your hairs from your back and kissing your upper back and sucking and biting it in the way because he wants some other space, his own to mark you and to make you feel his love in a different way.

He is thrusting you harshly and the rhythm is very rough and hitting every corner of the hole and you can feel his length is exploring around your inside and stretching it out.

Your body is tensing up and his sloppy thrusts are indicating you that he is close and you are also reaching your climax. His one hand gripping tightly your hip and the other one pressing your clit to make you feel his thrust deeper. His thrusts are really rough and he is not willing to be gentle with you for once but you know if you warn him a bit for your discomfort, he is going to stop with his actions just for you to be comfortable with him.

“I’m gonna cum Woo.”

“Fuck.” He releases inside of you.

Your body shaking in his hold and his forehead is resting on your shoulder. Heavy breathing of two bodies along with heat radiating from both of you is mixing with the smell of the sex. He has totally wrecked you and you are vision is hazy and your mind is totally foggy after the rough sex.

“Y/N?”

“Hm?” your reply is near to a whisper but still audible to him. He pulls out and positioned your body sidewise in his arms to take a look of your smudge makeup look.

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

“No. I’m okay. I-“

“I love you, my babygirl.” He kissed you on the nose and pecked your lips. “I am happy that you are finally in my arms. So vulnerable and so delicate and all because of me and us.”

He is hugging you tightly and caressing your body softly, just the contrasting way he was handling you few moments back in that intimate situation. With a final kiss on your cheek, he smiled at you and someone else took you from him and laid you down near the side of the bed. You tried your best to open your eyes to look at the person, the hold is as if he is handling a delicate thing which can break any moment.

“No need to open your eyes Y/N. Relax and let me take care of you.”

“Hongjoong I-“

“Shh…Sleep.” He is cleaning your body with some wet warm clothes and the cold air of the air conditioner is hitting your skin. One more person is there helping you to turn around and removing the bedsheet from beneath you. From the conversation between Hongjoong and him, you can guess him the youngest member, Jongho.

They put you into a loose trouser and an oversized t-shirt and someone took you in their arms to lift you up in the bridal style. The grip and the praises to lull you to sleep is totally referring to you being in the arms of the giant Yunho. Someone pats your head and you somehow open your eyes to realize your current situation. Seonghwa is patting you and smiling down at you and others are waiting near the door for three of you and Wooyoung who is putting on his t-shirt.

You all went towards the parking area and you are trying your best to stay awake in his arms.

“So, who is going to take which one?”

 “Seonghwa, you can take Yeosang and San along with you and rest of them can take the other car. I will go with Yunho and Y/N.”

Everyone agreed and were going in their particular direction of their cars.

“Where are we going?”

They all stopped in their tracks to turn towards Yunho and you and he is already staring down at you.

“To home. To our home. The home is empty without you even if there are eight of us because the heart of our life is missing.”

“Thank you.”

“Why tiny?”

“Thanks for showing that you all are still the same and you all love me the most.”

San speaks, “We will never hurt you again Y/N. We are all sorry.”

You smiled towards them.

“I love you. I love each one of you. I missed you too.”

They all gave you the kindest smile and nodded.

“Thanks for making our party the best. My club has a sweet memory now.”

Everyone laughed on Mingi’s statement and with sweet smiles on everyone’s face, they all went to enter their designated cars.

Wooyoung shout out his thought, “lets have a party like this again but not for the same reason and also I will be the first one.”

They all laughed and entered the car. Before starting the engine, Hongoong looks at the rear-view mirror to see you snuggled up in yunho’s arms in the back seat and the latter cooing down at you like you are a baby in his hold. He looked up in the mirror to meet the eyes of the one in driver’s seat.

“Today was amazing, I want this party again. She is the best treasure of our life.”

“The Heart of Our Party.”

LET'S NOW PRETEND YOU DONT KNOW MY BLOG!

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Taglist : @mymoodwriting @justhere4kpop @vvshere @anyamaris @yeoobin @icchyi @jwnghyuns @piratequeen-queenofgames @yourfatherlucifer @m3tavita @onedumbho3 @goldnhwa @shmaleo-blog @pearltinyy @moonlightsora @oreharuuu @liniiiaa

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[bisexualiteaa]

Sweet As Pie

Logan Howlett x Fem Reader (FLUFF AND SMUT!!)

CW: established relationship, mention of reader having night terrors/nightmares, reader has trouble sleeping, reader likes baking, mentions of reader being a teacher at the school, talks of baking and sweets to relax, fluffy, non-seggsual intimacy and seggsual intimacy, cursing, dancing in the kitchen, kissing, p0rn w/o plot, fingering, oral (f receiving), hickies, mentions of biting/bitemarks, praise, slight dumbification, Logan is a fiend for reader, unprotected seggs, cream pie, squirting, fluffy ending, potential grammar/spelling errors, lightly proof read

AN: The absolute death grip that this man has on me IS UNREAALLL!! 😫 The ideas I have constantly floating around my little ADHD brain of him never cease but this one…WHEW! This one was fun to write. 👀 I happily take asks/requests for our mans Logan and of course Wade too! We share the love in this house! 💙💛 ❤️🖤 My asks are still open so please send ideas my way for anything you may want to see me write about, friends! Hope y’all enjoy. 🥰

It was a late night as usual. Your racing thoughts and vivid night terrors kept you from being able to stay asleep once again, despite any attempts to calm your mind before bed. So despite it being nearly three in the morning, you did the only thing you knew would effectively calm you after such a restless night. Baking. You were in the kitchen, all the utensils and ingredients laid out before you as you decided to bake brownies to distract yourself from the stressful dream. You had also hoped the waiting would help make you tired enough to hopefully fall back asleep once they were done. You were playing music softly as you started putting all of the ingredients together in a large mixing bowl, not wanting to disturb the rest of the mansion while everyone else was asleep, but you needed something to help keep your mind from wandering in the silence. You put on a playlist that you and Logan had comprised, smiling warmly as you began to relax a little more thanks to the music. You couldn’t help the way you began to hum and quietly sing along to the songs as you would sway to the beat. What you hadn’t realized was that you had an audience standing in the doorway watching you as you baked.

“Can’t sleep?” Asked the familiar, gruff voice of Logan as he soon joined you in the kitchen, his arms wrapping around you from behind, making you smile and hum happily as he did. “Had another night terror, but it’s okay. That’s what the baking is for” you said, making him hum apologetically in response, he knew exactly what it was like to struggle with such a thing. “That’s the fourth one this week, doll. You doin’ okay? Why didn’t you come get me?” He asked, watching you crack eggs into the bowl before setting the shells to the side. “I’ve always had them Lo, nothing I’m not used to. I know you had a busy day, didn’t want to wake you up, I’m sure you’re tired” you answered, but it didn’t stop him from worrying about you. He didn’t care how little sleep he got, he didn’t care if he had to stay up all night just to make sure you were okay, he would do it without hesitation. “Never too tired for you, sweetheart. Never be afraid to come get me” he replied, making you turn to look at him over your shoulder, shaking your head in response. He gave you a quick, sweet kiss, bringing that gorgeous smile back to your face that he loved so much. “Tomorrow we’ll talk to Jean, see if there’s anything we can get for you” he said as you went back to your baking, his arms circling around your middle again, making you chuckle at his overprotective nature when it came to you. When his mind was set on something you could hardly ever sway him from it, so you knew there was no fighting him on this. It was sweet really, to finally have someone who cared about your struggles and just wanted to help you. All he ever wanted was to see you happy and well, and he would do anything in his power to be sure those were met. You only wished he would be just as open to you fussing over him. “Yes dad” you quipped sarcastically, making him chuckle with you as he kissed your cheek before resting his chin on the top of your head. “Just worry about you sweetheart, know how much those take a toll” he said, sympathizing with your struggle. “I’m okay Logan, really. I’m still here, aren’t I?” You responded earning a grunt from him in reply that told you that wasn’t the right answer, making you laugh as he watched you mix all your ingredients together in the bowl, dancing and quietly singing to the music that was still playing.

He sniffed the air to try and figure out what it was that you were baking as he helped you clean up some before coming right back to your side. It was sweet for sure, so that told him you were making a dessert of some kind. “Brownies?” He asked, making you smile as you offered him the spatula with some batter on the end from when you had to scrape the mix from out of the bowl and into the pan. He accepted, giving it a taste. He would never admit to having a sweet tooth to anyone else, but your brownies were his absolute biggest weakness. Something about the love that you put into your baking and the joy you had in it, made everything you’d ever baked taste so good. You giggled as he groaned over dramatically at the taste, telling you that he liked it. “Good?” You asked with a grin at him over your shoulder as he licked the spatula spotless. “Fuckin’ delicious” he replied, making you giggle once more as you got all the dishes together. “Not as delicious as you, but pretty damn close” he said, making your jaw drop as you laughed at his dirty joke, making him grin at the cute look of surprise on your face. “Logan!” You whisper yelled as you started taking the dishes over to the sink, making him chuckle at your response. As you were about to wash them, Logan stole them from your hands before you could even place them into the sink. “It’s the least I can do for those brownies” he said, making you place your hands on your hips in defiance as you were about to tell him you could handle it, but his lips meeting yours for another short but sweet kiss silenced you long enough to forget your momentary agitation. Now all you had to do was wait for them to be done.

Thirty-five to forty minutes was the bake time, meaning you had that amount of time to kill while you waited for them to be done. You smiled as another song began to play, making you hum along happily as you stood in the kitchen with Logan. Your arms were slung around his neck as his hands sat at your waist, both of you swaying gently to the song as you looked into each other’s eyes. It wasn’t often that you and Logan shared moments of intimacy like this, where his touch wasn’t wild and untamed, and your gaze wasn’t filled only with lust. He knew well that intimacy was never his strongest suit, but as he’s been with you, he’s come to try his best at it every now and again. You’ve slowly taught him how to open up to it, how to get better at it. “Thank you” you spoke, breaking the comfortable silence between you for a moment as you rested your forehead against his own, closing your eyes as you basked in the moment. “For what?” He asked, knitting his brows in confusion as he looked down at you, unsure of what he did to deserve being thanked. “For being here with me, for caring about me. For just…being you, Lo” you replied sweetly, a soft smile stretching to your lips as you continued to look up at him with those soft eyes and that gorgeous smile he could never get enough of. He never knew what to say in these moments, in the times where you would tell him such sweet things about himself that he could never see. He often wondered why you’d chose him over anyone else, yet at the same time, he knew he would never want to see you with anyone other than him. He was a mutant, a dangerous one at that, and he certainly was not the type of man you take home to introduce to your parents. Not in his eyes at least. Yet you looked at him with all the love in the world, as if he couldn’t possibly do any wrong and when you looked at him like that, it made him finally start to wonder if maybe he wasn’t so bad after all. If you could love and accept him just the way he is, maybe he didn’t need to be so hard on himself. He had you, and you made it quite clear that despite everything, despite all his flaws, anger and bad habits, you were here to stay. Sometimes it was just so unreal to him to think he was lucky enough to have you by his side, willing to stick with him through all his ups and downs. He leaned his head down closer to you, not knowing how else to respond other than by kissing you. He was always better at showing you how he felt physically rather than expressing it through words. The kiss started off soft and sweet, but that didn’t mean it held any less passion in it than his more desperate, heated kisses. You hummed contentedly into it, your fingers lightly carding through his thick and unruly hair, keeping him close to you as you returned the sentiment. You hadn’t seen each other all day, he left early this morning before you were even up, and you stayed behind at the mansion, catching up on your lecture materials and grading assignments for the up coming week. It was nice to have this moment with him, away from the kids, away from the others, and to just enjoy each other’s company without interruption. You both seemed to need it after such a long day. So it wasn’t surprising in the slightest when your once innocent kiss began to take a more heated turn, morphing into something more passionate as you both stood there, enjoying the moment together while no one else was around.

You giggled into his lips as he picked you up, never breaking the kiss once whilst wrapping your legs around his hips to hoist you up onto the counter top, placing you slightly above eye level with him now. It was rather impressive the way he made sure your body was still against him, lips still connected as he lifted you with such ease, effortlessly placing you down on the counter without even needing to open his eyes. Thought he did finally pull away once the burning in his lungs from lack of oxygen began to kick in, figuring you must be feeling the same thing. He pulled away to enjoy the half lidded look you would give him when you were worked up, and the small line of saliva connecting your lips to his as your face flushed hot. “Missed you today” he said lowly in your ear, his voice deep and gravelly with want as he began trailing his kisses down the column of your throat, stopping to tease your most sensitive spots, pulling soft whines and moans from you as he did. “Missed you too” you replied through harsh uneven breaths, your fingers carding through his hair once more as he would suck and bite at your weak spots, leaving marks in his wake. Proof that he was there, proof that you were his and his alone. You moaned quietly as his hips brushed against you, feeling him through the fabric of your night dress. “Logan…” you begged, feeling him trail down your collarbone to your chest, pulling down the straps of your nightgown to allow him easier access to your breasts that lay bare underneath. He wrapped his lips around one of your sensitive buds, laving his tongue over your pert nipple as he sucked it into his mouth. You lulled your head back, eyes fluttering shut with a quiet moan as his hand cupped your other breast, offering both of your soft tits equal love and care. You bit your lip, doing your best to contain the sounds that would normally flow from you so freely, not wanting to wake anyone up or have anyone interrupt this moment between you two. “Missed these sweet girls” he said, laying a trail of kisses from your right tit to your left before taking your other breast in his mouth, allowing him to switch treatments and effectively show both of them his love and appreciation. He groaned into your skin at the sight of you, eyes half shut in bliss, head tilted back with your bottom lip caught between your teeth, and your hips rolling against his for that added bit of friction that you needed oh-so-desperately. He smirked at your needy movements, sucking and nipping at your skin playfully as he marked up your chest, not caring if they would be there for others to see. He wanted everyone to know who it is that pleases you, that makes you happy and makes you feel so damn good.

Satisfied by the marks left on your chest, neck and collarbones, he began to lay kisses down your stomach, his large, calloused hands coming up under your night dress to rest on your soft, plush thighs as he came to his knees before you. “Scoot closer for me, sweetheart. Wanna show her how much I missed her too” he said, helping you move towards him as he started to kiss up your calves to your knees, then along the insides of your thighs before finally lifting up your night dress enough for him to have better access to where you needed him most. “There you go. Look at you, not wearing anything underneath” he teased with that signature cocky grin of his, making you blush as you remembered you didn’t have anything on under your gown. He ran his nose along your inner thigh to tease, enjoying the smell of you and your pheromones that drove him absolutely wild as he left you on edge, toying with you despite knowing exactly how much you needed him in this moment. You knew better than to whine however, because despite your anticipation, you knew that he would give you everything you needed. Most people joked that you had him trained but in reality, he was the one had you trained. “Good things come when you wait” he would always say, and that was a motto you lived by when it came to him. He was never untrue to his word either. You moaned as he finally made his way to the apex between your thighs, laying a soft kiss to your clit before moaning lasciviously into you at the taste of you on his tongue. Your hand came down to card through his hair again, your nails scratching against his scalp in appreciation as his lips and tongue worked at your aching clit. You felt his tongue flutter and draw circles into you, occasionally dipping down to your soaked entrance to squeeze the hot, wet muscle inside and taste even more of you before taking up the rhythm and pace that he knew drove you absolutely crazy. In all the good ways, of course. His hands held you tight as he ate you like a man starved, moaning into you with such debauchery anyone would likely think you were the stars to a depraved pornographic film. You felt his nails dig into your skin with a pleasurable pain, feeling his bruising grip paired with the dig of his nails against you meant you could look forward to the enticing sight of his hand prints on your thighs when you woke up. He didn’t just feast on your cunt to please you, oh no, he did it of his own pleasure as well. You were already struggling to keep quiet, finding it harder and harder to keep your voice to a whisper when he made you feel so damn good, but it proved even more difficult as you felt two of his fingers poke at your waiting entrance. You felt as he collected your essence on his fingers before finally having them work their way inside of you, spreading you open and preparing you for what was to come next. “Logan…” you begged once more through your ragged breaths, and god how it drove him mad hearing his name fall so sweetly from your lips.

As his fingers slipped inside of you, it didn’t take long for him to effectively find the exact spot you needed them most, feeling him curl his dexterous and skillful fingers to rub against your gummy walls. You couldn’t help the way your hips began to roll against his tongue and fingers with need, feeling the burning ache in the pit of your stomach begin to grow tighter and tighter. “That’s it baby, fuck my fingers. Know how she likes ‘em nice and deep” he said before returning his tongue to your dripping cunt, pushing you closer and closer to your impending orgasm. This time however, the movements of his tongue were a little different than what he was doing before. This time, you couldn’t help but notice that it almost felt as if he was spelling something on your clit with his tongue. As if writing out words on your sensitive bud, then it hit you. He was spelling his name on you, laying claim to you by putting his name on your most sacred place that only he was privy to. He was marking his territory.

L

O

G

A

N

H

O

W

L

E

T

T

You giggled as you noticed it, finding it a rather clever move on his part. He always claimed how marking you up with hickies and bite marks was a way of claiming you, marking you as his, but this was a first. “Pussy’s all fuckin’ mine now” he said, making you chuckle. “Was always yours Lo, no one else’s. Always gonna be your girl” you said, making him groan into you at your response. “Say it again” he ordered, pumping his fingers in and out of you at the perfect pace to get you closer to your peak. “Always gonna be your girl, Lo” you repeated, watching the muscles in his bicep flex and the veins pop out slightly beneath his skin as he worked you with his fingers. “So fuckin’ good to me. Gonna cum for me, pretty? Feel you squeezin’ my fingers nice and tight” he asked, making you shake your head yes in reply as he looked up at you, and fuck he could have bust in his pants just at the sight of you. You leaned back on your hands that sat behind you, your chest rising and falling with each labored breath, your gorgeous tits peaking through the thin fabric of your night dress as your gaze fixed upon him with those siren eyes that he swore had him transfixed since the moment he’d met you. You were ethereal. “Cum for me baby, wanna show you how much I missed you” he said, and just as his lips came back to your clit, that was all your body needed to send you toppling over the edge. Your thighs closed against his head, squeezing him tight as he helped you ride out your high. He moaned into you as your legs clamped around his head, feeling his dick twitch in his pants as you did. You felt him squeeze your ass tightly in his hands his nails digging into your skin, only adding to the buzzing sensation flowing through you as you slowly came down from cloud nine.

You released him from your grip as you realized you’d held him there, likely keeping him from being able to breathe. “Shit, sorry…” you apologized in a whisper, your voice sounding ragged as you did your best to calm down. “Nothin’ t’ be sorry for” he said with a confident grin before standing back up, allowing you to see just what you do to him. “Did you cum just from eating me out?” You asked, a slight blush on your cheeks from fluster and the lack of oxygen as your breathing only now started to return to a normal rhythm. “What can I say? Love makin’ you feel good” he replied, making you grin as he kissed you, paying no mind to the taste of you that danced on his tongue still. “She’s the only thing that could ever top those brownies” he added into the kiss, making you giggle. “That good, huh?” You asked with a cocky grin, making him groan into your shared kiss. “See for yourself” he said before running his tongue along your bottom lip, nudging you to open your mouth and allowing the kiss to deepen as your tongues fought in a battle for dominance over the other.

You peered back over to the timer, twenty five minutes left until they were done. Suddenly having to wait so long didn’t seem so grueling after all. “Know how often I think about bending you over this counter?” He asked into your slightly more frenzied kiss as you worked at his belt buckle to undo it. “How often?” You asked, both teasingly and because you were curious of how much he’d fantasized about it. “Every fuckin’ morning” he answered truthfully, making you hum in reply as you bit your lip, holding back a giggle as that thought sent butterflies to your stomach. “Then do it” you challenged him, making a near feral growl leave the depths of his chest as he pulled you down from the ledge and bent you over the counter top. You felt him grind himself against your ass through his jeans to tease before finally you heard the sounds of him taking off his belt and undoing his jeans. “You know how much restraint it takes me when I see you in here cooking or baking? When you gotta bend over to grab something our get on your tip toes to reach somethin’?” He asked before lifting up your night gown up, scrunching it at your hips and exposing your bare ass and cunt to the chilled air from the way your back was arched. “Takes everything in me not to fuck you senseless. To ruin this pretty pussy in the same place where we eat breakfast every morning” he said, making you whine at the thought, and moan as he tapped the tip of his dick against your sensitive clit. “Bet you’d fuckin’ love that, wouldn’t you sweetheart?” He asked, making you bite your lip and shake your head yes as you gripped the counter, preparing yourself for what was to come. “Fuck, Logan, please! Need you so bad” you whined as he moved his head between your folds, collecting your wetness on his tip and shaft before finally pressing at your waiting hole. You moaned at the blissful stretch, feeling your eyes roll back as he inched his way inside of you. Your breathing started to grow sporadic again, feeling him graze all your most sensitive spots before finally sheathing himself all the way inside, his tip gently tapping the apex to your cervix as he waited for you to adjust to his size. “So tight, fuck. Perfect fit, ‘s like she was made for me” he praised sweetly, littering your shoulder and neck with soft, sweet kisses to help you work through the momentary burn of him stretching you. Didn’t matter how long you spent with him, how often you two would be intimate, the sheer size of him would always ruin you every time, but you couldn’t imagine it any other way.

Your knuckles began to turn white from the grip you had on the counter top, feeling your eyes roll back in your head as he ravaged you. You were doing the absolute best that you could to remain quiet, but his hot groans and feral growls in your ear as his hips pistoned into you left you with the impression that he didn’t give a damn if he woke anyone up or if someone walked in. He’d wanted this for far too long and at this rate, nothing was going to stop him from having you unless you explicitly told him to. But judging by the way you were moaning his name and begging him for more, paired with the half lidded, lust ridden look on your face told him you weren’t going to be asking him to stop anytime soon. You were nervous at one point about anyone possibly waking up, or coming into the kitchen and finding you two before, but now your mind was so fogged by pleasure, so devoid of anything save for his name leaving your lips like a prayer that you truly couldn’t care enough to worry about that anymore. All you cared about was him and sharing in this moment with him. The rest of the world didn’t exist to either of you right then, all that mattered was having you pinned against the counter top and him drilling into you at an almost unforgiving pace. You could hear the soft sounds of his hips meeting your ass and the faint clap of his balls against your clit, only pushing you closer and closer to your breaking point. His one hand held your hip with a bruising grip, as the other rested beside you, holding him up and steadying him. “Logan! Right there! Fuck, just like that” you moaned as quietly as you could, making him chuckle at how desperate you sounded. “Yeah? Fuck, takin’ me so good. Feel so good around me” he said, and you could barely even babble out a coherent response through your pants and moans, making him chuckle again. “Poor thing. There isn’t a thought in that pretty head of yours right now, is there?” He asked in his usual cocky tone, his hand coming to your throat to pull you up against him, pulling your back against his broad chest, making your eyes flutter closed as he squeezed your throat, choking you a little as he fucked into you mercilessly. You shook your head no in reply, not trusting your voice enough to respond verbally. Not that you had anything coherent to say in response aside from his name. You could practically feel the grin that stretched to his lips at your response, he always loved when he would get you cock drunk. “Feels s’ good!” You babbled out the best you could, making him groan by your ear. “Doin’ so good for me baby. Been needin’ this all day, been needin’ you” he said, making you whine in response and clench around him, earning a growl from him. “Oh ya like when I tell you how much I need you? How desperate I am for you? God you drive me fuckin’ wild” he said, and you felt as his pace started to get sporadic, his movements no longer calculated and fluid telling you he was reaching his peak. “Come on princess, cum for me. Know you can give me one more” he spoke, reaching around and rubbing your clit in tight circles. “Fuck! Logan, ‘m gonna-“ you tried to warn, but by the time the words left your lips, your back had already arched from him and your orgasm had washed over you like a tidal wave of pure ecstasy. Your eyes rolled back, stomach tightening then releasing and had it not been for his hand swiftly covering your mouth, you know you would have been too loud. You felt your legs shake as your release gushed from you, your cunt clenching him tight, milking him and coating his dick in your slick as he growled in your ear with his own release. You sighed blissfully at the feel of him pulsing inside of you, each hot rope coating your walls white with his seed as he released himself deep inside of you.

You both took a moment to try and catch your breath, enjoying the after glow while he was still inside of you. You hummed contentedly as he kissed you sweetly before resting his head against your back. Your sweet moment was cut short however by the sound of the timer on the oven going off, making Logan rustle to turn it off as quick as he could while still managing to be balls deep inside of you. You laughed as you rested your head against the kitchen counter, realizing that the brownies were done just in time. Or perhaps it was the other way around. “Maybe you should bake with me more often” you quipped as he finally pulled out of you, helping you clean up before he redressed and helped you fix your nightgown. He laughed at your idea, watching you bend down to grab the brownies from the oven with an oven mitt before placing them on the stove top, cutting them into pieces and allowing them to cool. “You really want *me* to help you bake?” He asked, knowing his baking skills were inferior compared to that of his cooking skills. “If it ends like *that* every time, absolutely I do” you replied, making you both laugh before grabbing a brownie and feeding him a bite. Something about it was so tender, so domestic that for a moment, he could see himself living the rest of his days like this with you. For once he felt like he no longer needed to run, no longer needed to be alone. He had you, and with you, he had a home. And your delicious brownies only further sweetened the deal.

[sunkissedscribbles]

☆ 𝑆𝐿𝑌𝑇𝐻𝐸𝑅𝐼𝑁 𝐵𝑂𝑌𝑆 𝑅𝐸𝐴𝐶𝑇 - 𝐻𝑂𝐺𝑀𝐴𝑆 𝐷𝐴𝑌 𝟷𝟷

including: mattheo, theo, enzo, draco, blaise, tom

☆ HOGMAS 2024 LIST ☆ MASTERLIST ☆ TAG LIST ☆ KIARA'S PART

☆ 𝑀𝐴𝑇𝑇𝐻𝐸𝑂 ➵ he’s never been a fan of christmas but since he came to hogwarts that’s changed, somewhat ➵ especially since he’d been staying for the holidays at the school with his friends ➵ and, well, you. he’s whipped for you, to say the very least ➵ and there’s this song by the eagles you’ve been humming in the past week or so ➵ and he found both the vibe and the lyrics captivating when he finally asked you to show the original song ➵ and so ‘please come home for christmas’ instantly became his favourite ➵ and feliz navidad because feliz navidad.

☆ 𝑇𝐻𝐸𝑂 ➵ you asked him if you could show him a christmas playlist you’d just recently made ➵ and he was like “sure, why not?” ➵ you were happy because of his response and he was happy because you were happy. ➵ hang on, i left out the part where he became obsessed with ‘this christmas’ by vonda shepard for the entire christmas period, starting with nostalgia because the woman on the recording had a similar voice to his mum ➵ he hated the holidays up until that point ➵ but now? he’s listening to vonda shepard from november to january non-stop

☆ 𝐸𝑁𝑍𝑂 ➵ “what is this divine melody?” he started jamming to ‘jingle bell rock’ as he stepped into the kitchen where you were baking, a christmas mix playing in the background ➵ “what, there’s more?” a genuine gasp as you tell him it’s a mix ➵ new hyperfixation: boney m.’s Christmas Medley because it’s “eight minutes of heavenly music” as he said ➵ but his favourite is by far ‘christmas (baby please come home)’

☆ 𝐷𝑅𝐴𝐶𝑂 ➵ he heard ‘last christmas’ at a café where he was with you ➵ “pathetic,” he exclaimed with a scoff between two sips of his hot chocolate ➵ after going back to the manor and after you'd left, he started looking for the song frantically ➵ he called you to ask the title in the middle of the night, freaking out because it was bugging him that he didn’t know the name of his new favourite music

☆ 𝐵𝐿𝐴𝐼𝑆𝐸 ➵ this man can never choose in anything ➵ not for his dear life ➵ and this especially applies to music, even more to holiday music ➵ it really depends on his mood but he only ever has three possible answers: ➵ ‘underneath the tree’ by kelly clarkson ➵ ‘all i want for christmas is you’ by mariah carey (obvi) ➵ and ‘the trouble with love is’ also by kelly clarkson

☆ 𝑇𝑂𝑀 ➵ would deny it forever ➵ and i mean FOREVER ➵ wouldn’t even admit it to you ➵ but when he saw you decorating the tree with your friends in the common room, looking all cozy and happy surrounded by friends to that one music, it stirred something in him ➵ and so since then he LOVES ‘santa, can’t you hear me’ by kelly clarkson & ariana grande ➵ simply because it reminds him of you

tag list: @inksoakedparchment @mattiesgf @girllblogging777 @mqstermindswift @myysunshine @yelanare @mamartinez @s00ty-feet @malfoylover4l @potterxz

[hiraethwa]

one summer day

13 hello, tokyo. where you have a taste of domestic bliss with wakatoshi

<< 12 shoot for the stars. | >> 14 crescendo.

pairing: ushijima wakatoshi x reader word count: 1.8k warnings: dysfunctional parental relationship, y/n is on her period important announcement! one summer day is going on break for two weeks, part 14 will be released in 2-3 weeks, more details in a/n at the end of post

frustration, tears, and heartbreak was what it took for you to follow your heart. 

your mother was unsupportive of your decision to attend music school instead of going to university and taking on a conventionally stable office job. you had tried to persuade her as best as you could, but every time the topic was brought up, it ended in a heated argument and insults hurled your way.

the last one was the worst, and you still remember each and every one of her parting words. “do whatever you want, y/n. i don’t have a daughter like you anyway.” the anger in her voice forever etched into your mind. she left for another business trip and you moved out before she returned, hurt and scorned. 

it’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fine. when has she been your mom for the past eleven years anyway? 

yes, you are going to paris in four months. paris, where Conservatoire National Supérieur de Musique et de Danse de Paris offered you a scholarship, the lighthouse on the dark seas guiding you to shore. 

and yes, you are moving in with the man you are in love with. what a splendid idea. what could possibly go wrong?

ushijima had, in fact, gone ahead and signed the lease after getting your agreement that night, your request to discuss it beforehand gone unheard. you had panicked, expecting to decline it when you spoke next, and not knowing if you were able to afford the rent. 

you recall him giving you an utterly confused look, telling you to not worry about that and that he would take care of it.

so you took it upon yourself to help out wherever you could, making sure he has a proper breakfast before leaving for practice and packing him a bento for lunch. the youtube videos you started watching to expand your available menu helping you curate a balanced and nutritious meal that is sometimes cute, if you had the extra time, courtesy of the food cutters you saw in a shop display one day. 

his fingers would brush yours as he takes the knotted furoshiki makeshift handle from you, and you would pretend it does not make your poor heart skip a beat or two. 

he had forgotten his food once in the three weeks that you had moved in together, and you had taken it upon yourself to make sure he received his lunch. you were denied entry to the training center, the receptionist mistaking you for a fan, but luckily, one of his teammates who was passing by helped you clear up the misunderstanding. 

by the time you got to ushijima, you only had enough time to pull the wrapped bento out of your bag, telling him you would see him at home later, before you had to leave for your french language class that was on the other side of the city. 

if you had a moment to spare, you would have seen his teammates tease him for landing such a supporting girlfriend. and his pink cheeks when he does not deny it.

this is the first time you are menstruating since moving to tokyo. the first day of your period is debilitating, to put it simply. there hasn’t been a bad episode in months, but you hadn’t taken in consideration the stress of moving, compounded with your newfound, very real, estrangement from your parents, so you are reaping the consequences today. 

you had washed down a couple of pain medications before going about your day, which had been enough for the lighter aches in the recent months. apparently not this time, which is truly delightful to learn as the pain hits you like a train in the middle of class.

your lower back cramped throughout french class, extending down the back of your legs, and the pain in your abdomen stayed a steady dull throb. it took every ounce of your determination and concentration to listen to the lesson, scrawling down notes and ignoring the pain that seemed to take over whenever your mind wandered off. 

you weren’t sure how you got through four hours of class, until it finally ended and you found yourself forcing your legs to the nearest convenience store for a strip of pain medication to tide you over until you get home. 

the train ride home was no less grueling; the cushioned seats barely provided a hint of relief as you close your eyes and picture anything else but the constant pain intruding on your mind. 

mercifully, the medication kicks in halfway home because by the time you close the door to your shared apartment and kick off your shoes in the entryway, the pain has quieted. your energy is drained from the day, however, having just enough to boil some water and pour it into your trusty rubber hot water bottle that is a staple for your periods. 

just a quick shuteye, you decide, crawling onto the couch with the hot water bottle sandwiched between your back and the couch and letting your heavy eyelids drop. before you know it, the sound of the lock on the front door turning is stirring you from your sleep and the sun has made its way down the horizon. 

“y/n?” a hand pushes back the hair covering your face, waking you up from your slumber that you didn’t realize you slipped into again in the short few minutes. an incoherent noise coming from you as you try to resist the consciousness that slowly floods your mind.

you open your eyes to a frowning wakatoshi. “toshi, you’re home?”

a nod, “have you had dinner yet? it’s late.”

“‘m not hungry, toshi.” you mumble, suddenly remembering the state of the apartment you left it in, your shoes and bag strewn about the hallway. 

“you didn’t reply to my texts, but i got you something to eat just in case.” he holds up a takeout bag. right, he had dinner plans with his teammates after practice. the pain had you in its grip so much that you didn’t even check your phone today. 

“sorry, i had a rather long day. ‘m just so tired.” 

“okay, the food’s in the fridge if you want it.” he calls from the kitchen. you utter your thanks from your fetal position on the couch, head nestled into the cushions before you let sleep pull you under once again. 

you feel like no time has passed between then and now as wakatoshi gently rouses you from your sleep, his damp hair sticking to his forehead, having just showered. “go sleep in your room.” 

“don’t wanna,” you pout, feeling needy for once around him, spurred on by your cycle. “the wall is cold, and the couch isn’t.”

his eyes soften at you as he checks the temperature of your hot water bottle. “wait here, i’m gonna refill the hot water for you.”

“not going anywhere, toshi,” you call out, can’t help but admire the corded muscles on his figure as he walks away. you cast your eyes to the singular artwork adorning the living room that you picked up together a week ago as he turns around, hoping he didn’t catch you staring in your moment of weakness. 

you could feel the intensity of his gaze on you, so you keep your eyes trained on the paintbrush swirls mimicking the crashing waves onto rock. and you keep pretending like he doesn’t already hold your heart in his hands. 

you are becoming greedier when it comes to wakatoshi, constantly battling your innermost desires to touch him and hold him, confess your deepest love to him, particularly since you moved in with him. unfortunately, fate has other plans in mind for you, and it would be unfair to him, and you, to act on those desires when you know you are not staying. 

“you planning on sleeping on the couch tonight?” his voice breaks you from your thoughts. the voice that soothed your anxiety, that you grew to love. 

you nod. “good ni– what are you doing?” you yelp, arms wrapping around his neck in a feeble attempt for self preservation when he scoops you into his arms with minimal effort while balancing the hot water bottle in one hand. 

he looks down at you, arching an eyebrow. “the couch is not good for sleeping.”

“i told you, i don’t wanna sleep against the wall tonight,” you squawk indignantly as he walks you towards your room. you try your damndest to ignore the hard muscle on his shoulders that you are holding on to unnecessarily. and the heart that is beating out of your chest.

you have always loved him, but this feels different. an unfamiliar burning in your gut that makes you want to claw at him–and yourself for wanting to do so.

“you’re not,” he says simply, and you find yourself speechless as he pushes his door open. 

huh? there is a deafening sound in your head. you realize belatedly that it is your conscious mind screaming internally as he gingerly sets you down on his bed and climbs into the same bed after you. HUH?

you are still rendered wordless when he pulls you into his arms, using his body to prop the hot water bottle up against your aching back. your entire face burns hot as reality sets in that you are in bed, snuggled against the man you love, spooning like lovers. 

this is not fair. not fair that he is pulling all these feelings and reactions out of you without even trying to. you are sure your brain is going to turn into mush come morning, unable to comprehend the situation you are in, more like his arms that are cradling you close to his body, alleviating the pain in your back and legs. 

you squirm a little in his hold, feeling the stomach cramps returning, your ass brushing against something hard. recognition dawns on you, and you aren’t sure if you can turn any redder than you already are. “sorry, my stomach cramps are back.”

he only flattens his hand against your belly in response, his large palm emanating heat, calming the cramps slowly. you would be lying if you said it didn’t kindle another type of heat in your stomach. a flame that would consume both of you in its blaze if you’re not careful. 

“better?” he asks thickly, the word brushing your ear from your proximity. you can only give him a quick nod, your brain failing to form words in your throat. 

you are going to faint before you can fall asleep, you think. 

thankfully, exhaustion takes over, smoldering the flames in your belly and the blush in your cheeks, and slowly lulls you to the long-awaited painless rest. you feel a fullness in your chest born from wakatoshi’s care for you as you doze off, safe in his arms, and you wonder if this is what could have been if you had more time. 

you wonder if this could be forever in another life. 

a/n: umm, don't mind me, just squealing in excitement of y/n realizing she wants to climb wakatoshi??? it's just so fucking sweet that she fell for him, is in love with him FOR YEARS, and is now just starting to experience and realize her sexual desire for wakatoshi AHHHH :) regarding update break - i'll still be active on tumblr, just taking a break from writing for one summer day since i'm feeling a little burnt out from keeping on track with weekly updates (i'm really bad at schedules, and this is definitely a lesson on completing a series before posting haha) tags: @lemurzsquad @daisy-room @integers @brokenscaredakira @whosmarjj @nansfyy @illuzminate

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[coff33andb00ks]

where i come from - LS

pairing: logan sargeant x fem!reader (lilli. it's lilli) summary: hitch a ride to the end of the highway where the neons turn to wood word count: 1.2k a.n.: the first of three small fics for my beloved Lilli @maxlarens Happy birthday my darling!! I hope you enjoy this little love letter to you (and to american road trips). inspo: all the road trip songs my family blasted during my childhood, compiled here warnings: it's not a waffle house it's a waffle home, author is in love with american south almost as much as Lilli's in love with Logan

"Logan, you can't be serious."

He laughs, parking the car next to a slightly bent light pole. "What? You want to see America, right?"

You press your lips together, staring at the small, flat building that looks as though it's been in that spot since the 1960s and hasn't been refurbished once. "This is America?"

"One of the best parts," he promises, climbing out. The balmy air of Florida immediately makes the car's cold air disappear and you sigh, unbuckling your seatbelt as he walks around to open the door for you.

"A Waffle House is America?"

"Trust me," he says. "You'll understand."

You do trust him, so you let him take your hand, sweat beading before you've taken two steps across the parking lot. There's a crowd of people near the door and you feel their eyes on you and Logan as you approach, the air thick with humidity and weed and tobacco smoke.

The interior is worse than the exterior. Your sandals slide with each step on the ancient tile floor and you can feel the grease in the restaurant. A bored server is leaning against a booth and hands you and Logan menus as you walk by, telling you to sit wherever. You want to turn around and go sit in the car, but…

Logan looks so fucking happy.

So you sit in a booth with him, ignoring the sticky spot on the bench that catches the material of your shorts. You ignore the faint aroma of tobacco smoke that lingers in the dining area. You ignore the yelling from the kitchen staff and the argument starting up between a couple at the counter.

The food is pure American stereotype. Sweet, greasy, and the portions enormous. But your first bite of the burger has you smiling. Because—

"Oh my god," you practically moan.

Across from you, Logan's grinning.

The server is pure southern charm as soon as she hears your accent, and you relax as you enjoy a meal big enough to last you an entire day. It's not great but it's good, and the atmosphere seems to shift.

He buys you a mug, telling you under his breath about a time his brother stole one because apparently everyone does that. Once outside in the sweltering heat, he pulls you in and kisses the top of your head. "Welcome to America."

The road trip was his idea. It's the best way to see this land he loves so much and because you love him so much you agreed, and after a week with his family you're driving out of the Florida panhandle, the windows down and the music blasting, both of you singing Sweet Home Alabama at the top of your lungs.

He takes an exit off the interstate and you're already lost but he's content, speeding along unmarked country roads, past lush forests and rolling fields. He has to slow to a crawl for tractors, and every time a car passes he waves like the other person is an old friend.

Left or right? at every stop sign. No map, no GPS, just a whim.

A tiny shop – gas station, babe, not a shop – in the middle of nowhere is selling fresh peaches and the woman is so sweet and talkative you want to stay and talk all day. Her great aunt makes those crochet blankets you're admiring and before you know it you've got three draped over your arms.

"Where y'all headed?" she's asking as Logan pays.

He shrugs, smiling that bashful smile that made you fall in love with him. "Nowhere, really."

She gives the vaguest yet most detailed directions to a motel – you're gonna wanna drive thataway til you see the old rusted school bus? Then take a left and keep driving til you pass the turnoff for the highway. It's down on the right. If you get to the stoplight you done went too far – and Logan gives you a look as you bite into a fresh Georgia peach.

You smile.

More rolling fields and woods. Farms and family homes and kids on swings. He gets to the stoplight and you both laugh all the way back to the motel.

It's tiny and has almost zero amenities but it's clean and the window overlooks a small field of wildflowers. You take a shower and when you come out there's a jar with a bunch of wildflowers in it and you smile at him. You've been smiling so much the past couple days that your cheeks ache.

He finds a place to get dinner and you feast on what he says is pretty okay bbq but you think is the best you've ever tasted.

The next day you're better prepared, and you fully enjoy the rambling tour of the countryside, relaxing with each passing mile. Feet on the dash, singing along to Fleetwood Mac and Tom Petty and Creedence Clearwater Revival. Songs that are familiar and songs that he knows every word to and you are still learning.

Lunch is a picnic, thrown together with gas station sandwiches and bags of chips, sitting on one of the blankets you bought yesterday by a river. You want to enjoy the scenery, because it is as beautiful as he always told you it was, but all you can focus on is him.

He looks so happy. You've seen him happy, of course, but lately he's been downtrodden. Anxious. And you sit there, watching him as he talks about maybe making it up into North Carolina by sundown, seeing how relaxed he is.

And you fall a little in love with this spot of the world that heals him.

"You love it here," you say softly after a bit of silence.

Logan nods, looking out to the river where it disappears into the trees. "I do."

"I'm—"

"I love sharing it with you more."

Oh. Oh. Your eyes are burning and it's not fair that he can drop the sweetest lines when you least expect them even though by now you should expect them because he always does and—

"Lilli?"

You blink and he's moved to sit right in front of you. "Logan?"

Why does he look worried? Your mind scrambles, thinking something must be wrong. He feels ill, or he just spotted some venomous snake slithering nearby or—

He shifts and you glance down, seeing the ring sparkling in his hand.

Later you'll remember every word he says. How his hand shakes and his voice wavers while he tells you how much he loves you and how happy you make him. But for now all you hear is the river splashing over rocks and birds twittering and the breeze ruffling the leaves of the oak tree. And all you can see his eyes, shining and bright and beautiful.

There's hot sauce on his fingers and yours are gritty with salt. His lips taste of salt and vinegar and there's an ant crawling on your leg, and he's apologizing for not giving you some grand proposal, but you don't care. You're glad he asked you here.

"I love you," he whispers, forehead resting against yours and you feel the sigh that exhales his worries.

He worried that you'd say no. As if yes wasn't on your lips before he said the words.

"I love you, Logie."

[inoreuct]

i just got a brainwave. ZOSAN DANCER AU.

zoro mainly does hip hop, sanji mostly does ballet, they’re both attending this prestigious dance academy; zoro’s a scholarship student and he thinks sanji’s an absolute fucking snob. he can’t stand the prissy rich boy three studios down, golden with all the money from his royal background— he’s a vinsmoke. he’s a prince. it’s right there on the student name list, clear as day.

he’s only seen sanji from afar and yeah, sure, maybe he shouldn’t be so quick to judge but the blond infuriates him with his stupid hair flips and his heart eyes and his mirror-hogging and the way he kneels down to retie the girls’ pointe shoe ribbons for them so that they don’t have to. he’s tall and willowy and strong and fucking talented and every time zoro sees him he wants to kick a hole through the drywall.

now, zoro doesn’t really practice in school often. he enjoys lessons well enough, but he and his crew dance their best in the streets. so when he signs up for a practice slot the one time and gets there (already fifteen minutes late, mind you) just to realise there’s a very familiar annoyance in his studio? he’s pissed. he slams the door open right as sanji executes a spinny jump thing that reaches a frankly ridiculous height, sinking to one knee with his head thrown back, the air ringing after the music’s final crescendo.

zoro doesn’t give a shit. he’s tired and hungry and needs to get his fucking step sequence clean before next week’s dance battle, and thus opens his mouth and shatters right through the thick quiet as he barks, “vinsmoke!”

and he doesn’t know why, but sanji’s gaze flicks to him and he freezes in place. the blond’s expression, just moments ago composed and focused, is dripping with something that zoro can’t quite name, but he has to stop himself from gulping when sanji gets up and beelines straight for him, jabbing a manicured finger right into his sternum without reserve.

“don’t. fucking. call me that,” the blond grits, damn near seething, jaw so tense zoro’s honestly afraid he’ll crack a tooth and it’s almost funny, but he suspects that he really did cross some sort of line, and he might be rough around the edges but he isn’t an ass.

“okay, i’m sorry,” he offers, cautious, hands up in the air. the words taste weird in his mouth, but sanji looks slightly less livid so he counts it as a win. “what do i call you, then?”

the other man looks torn between kicking zoro soundly in the shin (which zoro can already tell would hurt like a bitch) and storming out of the studio, but he huffs loudly and turns away. “black. sanji black.”

zoro hums carefully and slowly inches his way to the corner of the room, setting his duffel down much gentler than he normally does. he should really leave this alone. he has a solo he needs to practice for and dinner to catch after. so what if sanji renounced his supposedly royal last name? it didn't make him any better than every other stuck-up dancer with a superiority complex.

(he decidedly doesn’t leave it alone, because this is the first time that he’s seen cracks in the blond’s porcelain-doll facade, and he can’t help but want to dig his fingertips in and pry. he’s never claimed to have a sense of self-preservation.)

“so…” he starts, facing the barre that he’ll never use and watching sanji through the mirror. “your parents—”

“not my parents, i’m estranged,” sanji cuts in, blunt and terse, emotionless to the point where zoro knows he cares much, much more like he wants to seem like he does.

he watches sanji sit in the middle of the wooden floor and fiddle with the elastics on his weird sock shoe hybrids, going into splits with no apparent effort and pressing his torso flat to the ground. a bright blue eye meets his and zoro looks away sharply, yanking on the zipper of his duffel and grabbing his snapback to pop the closures just to look busy.

…god, fuck, zoro wants to ask so bad. estranged. that word is rapidly reshuffling his worldview regarding the man currently yanking off his knitted leg warmers behind him and tossing them to the side. he wants to know how much of all of it is real; the money, the rumours, the gleaming reputation that surrounds sanji like a shield. he’s their academy’s golden boy and a shoo-in for the principal position at its sister ballet company, once he graduates. zoro had thought of him as an absolute primadonna— put bluntly, a pompous brat. a classic silver spoon child. but even just sitting here and stewing in his thoughts, the ability to cling onto the image he’d admittedly half made up in his head is rapidly slipping away from him.

it’s painfully obvious that sanji can talk the talk and walk the walk. jump the jump? “hey, what was that spinny jump thing you did just now?” jesus christ. zoro winces; his voice is so loud against the silence that he nearly puts his head in his hands.

“mm?” sanji’s voice isn’t even strained as he sits up from where he’d had his face pressed to his knees, forearms around his feet. how a person could even fold that far forward, zoro would never understand.

“the— the jump thing. when i came in.”

“oh, the double entrelacé?”

zoro squints. “the fuck kind of name is ontrolassay?”

“it means interlace in french, you—” the blond seems to struggle with choosing an insult before he finally lands on, “—goonhead. although i wouldn’t expect you to be able to appreciate it.”

the KT tape on zoro’s calf rolls back at the edge as he rubs over it absentmindedly, and he quickly stops. that shit isn’t cheap. but he’s more concerned about why he'd been doing it in the first place, because he only does that when he thinks, and zoro has enough self-awareness to know that when he thinks too hard it usually doesn’t end well. he’s all instinct— and something in the back of his mind is telling him that sanji is tired.

the blond isn’t just a pretty boy with no bite, that much is obvious. but now, with the sky dark outside the full-length windows and the air still and silent, it’s easier for him to see the weariness that sanji hides with all his fawning and flirting and smiles. he eyes the other man in his peripheral and clocks it settled bone-deep in the weight of sanji’s eyelids, the parting of his hair, the curve of his back.

he turns around properly to look at sanji over his shoulder and thinks, ah, fuck it. he’d been late to begin with and he’s spent so long here fiddling with his fucking hat under the guise of doing something important that half of his hour-long slot is gone, anyway. “the crew and i are going for pizza. come with.” a smirk pulls at his mouth as he cocks his head. “or are you gonna die if you eat something other than rabbit food?”

the blond looks up with an arched brow and a scowl. “you fucking wish,” sanji scoffs, but after a moment he gets up and starts tossing things into his bag. “it better be makino’s. arlong’s pizza dough tastes like sardines no matter what you get.”

zoro would have been impressed if sanji knew any neighbourhood pizza places to begin with, but this sounds like he has experience. “of course it’s makino’s, curly. we have standards.”

“i wouldn’t have known,” sanji sniffs delicately. “and curly?”

“yeah.” zoro shrugs, the strap of his bag digging in over his baggy tee as he stands. “your hair, your brows, your spinny jump thing—”

“double entrelacé.”

zoro makes a like i said gesture with his hands, grinning broadly. “spinny jump thing.”

sanji sighs as he tosses his hair out of his face. zoro gets a glimpse of two sapphire eyes, blue as the heart of a flame. “you’re a barbarian.” the blond shoulders him aside and snaps the lights off, pulling the door shut as he fishes out the keys. “and you’re buying.”

zoro hums non-committally and deliberately neglects to mention that makino’s fond of both luffy, his best friend, and luffy’s godfather shanks— which means that the whole crew basically eats free on late weekdays like these. on a side note, shanks has a thing with his own dad, mihawk, but they refuse to admit it. it’s infuriating. maybe he’ll rope sanji into helping to get them together before christmas because he has a bet running with nami and it is not looking good for him.

they walk out into the brisk night air as he flips his snapback onto his head, picking up the pace when he sees sanji shiver. “i drove, c’mon.”

“oh, you’ve been driving,” sanji says airily, raising his brows again as he digs around in his well-loved canvas bag for his cardigan. it’s pink and it’s cashmere, because of course it is. “driving me crazy.”

zoro doesn’t even realise he laughs until after it’s left his mouth and sanji is looking at him with wide eyes, blue, blue and more blue. he clears his throat. “let’s hope i don’t crash, then. did i mention i’m half blind on the left side?”

he cackles as sanji squawks at that, half-terrified and disbelieving, and on the way to makino’s he explains how he’d gotten into a scooter accident with luffy as a kid. (“of course you did,” sanji mutters, rolling his eyes. there’s no malice to it.) his crew’s already waiting for him when they arrive; to his dismay (or is it?), sanji hits it off with them marvellously.

zoro finds out that sanji’s biological family is royal, sure. royal assholes. sanji had run away one day and the bastards hadn’t done a damn thing to make sure he was alright, which, he supposes, made sense considering sanji had literally run away. (he isn't given a reason. he doesn't push.) and yet vinsmoke judge still refuses to let sanji change his name, which means that sanji’s father zeff had never been able to legally adopt him. he pays his own school fees working at zeff’s restaurant; not as a waiter but as a chef, and at this point zoro resigns himself to seeing this guy around a lot more because luffy’s already vibrating with excitement and in this friend group, luffy somehow always gets what he wants. sanji’s in it for the long haul now.

but it doesn’t seem like such a horrible thing anymore. zoro almost feels bad for thinking that sanji had been some kind of spoiled brat the whole time, and isn’t that something? the blond is quick to laugh and hardworking and snarky and proud, yes, but it’s deserved solely based on how much he’s trained to get to where he is— he’s damn good and he knows it, and zoro can appreciate that.

(he takes that last bit and shoves it into a box that he locks up tight and buries deep, deep down. he will Not be thinking about that tonight.)

he’s impressed all over again as he watches the sanji inhale an entire four cheese pizza and five garlic knots to boot, and he laughs when the blond gives him a petulant glare.

“fuck off, marimo, i’ve been training all day. m’fucking starving,” he groans through another mouthful of garlic and cheese, elegantly hiding his mouth behind his hand.

oh, hell no. “marimo?” zoro deadpans. “really?”

“not inaccurate,” nami hums from beside him, and he nearly smacks his forehead to the table. he cannot let these two get along. that would be the beginning of his own personal hell.

it’s too late. “small and green and fluffy,” sanji coos, faux-condescending as he reaches out to pet zoro on the head, and zoro snaps his teeth at slender fingers. he listens to sanji meld effortlessly into his friend group and wonders just what he's gotten himself into.

(there is warmth blooming between his ribs. he knows it will grow no matter what he does.)

they get closer as the weeks go by. zoro learns that sanji hates oregano with more vitriol than should be possible towards a herb. he learns the blond’s favourite brand of dance shoes (he knows that they’re suede slippers now, considering he got beaten over the head with them). he learns that sanji’s left arm never healed completely right from where his oldest brother snapped it when they were children, and he has to dig his nails into his palm so that he doesn’t punch something. sanji drags him into an empty studio one day and tells him to lift his leg as high as he can, which devolves into a stretching session that zoro is more inclined to call torture. sanji is adamant that having at least some degree of flexibility will help him dance more fluidly and loosen up his muscles. zoro tells him to eat shit.

(he goes home, and stretches, and he’s mad as hell because sanji’s right.)

the whole crew goes to the ballet course’s end-of-semester recital and nearly gets kicked out with how loudly they scream when sanji finishes his presentation. zoro throws a rose along with everyone else and pretends that he doesn’t.

(sanji pretends that he doesn’t find the exact one zoro tossed and press it to his nose as he sits in the dressing room backstage, his classmates bustling around him not enough to break his bubble of makeup mirror lighting and silky red petals and the memory of keen grey eyes, watching from the darkness of the audience seats.)

(zoro had been the first one to stand when he’d bowed. he’d cheered the loudest. sanji saw him. sanji heard him.)

zoro doesn't realise how much he talks about sanji until his sister threatens to peel the skin off his face if you don't ask him to come watch nationals, zoro, i swear to all that is unholy— and he shudders. perona is... terrifying. he also loves her terrifyingly much, but that won't stop her from peeling his face off, so he drops sanji a text with the details of the national finals of the dance battle that he was supposed to be training for that fateful day. he's too chickenshit to do anything else. too much of a coward to ask him face-to-face.

they win. their friends and family flood the stage. zoro looks for one face only. he feels a hand on his shoulder, whips around with his heart pounding and oh, he's here. radiant under the stadium lights, hair gleaming like brazened honey, eyes bluer than the sky and his smile even brighter. zoro opens his mouth to say something. anything.

sanji crashes into his arms and kisses him, and he feels like the fucking king of the world.

(the wolf-whistles only register when he realises sanji's legs are wrapped around his hips, his hands beneath strong thighs, but sanji is flushed so brilliantly pink and he looks so happy that zoro doesn't even care. luffy's elbow loops around his neck, nami crashing into his back, usopp coming in fast from the right, and sanji wiggles down to slide his arms around zoro's waist and tuck right up against his side. the trophy shines in his fist as he raises it high above the crowd and his nakama press in tight around him, and zoro screams and cheers with them until his throat goes hoarse.)

(mihawk and shanks get together three days later. sanji and zoro split the money nami begrudgingly forks over and then buy the whole crew pizza.)

[tiiraameesu]

The One That Got Away Pt.4

Gojo Satoru x F!Reader

Synopsisજ⁀➴ Gojo is a charismatic college student, known for his carefree approach to relationships, never letting things get too serious. You are his longtime best friend and have quietly harbored feelings for him but never acted on them, knowing Gojo’s aversion to commitment. But when Gojo shares an unexpected connection with another girl, the dynamics between them start to shift. As the lines blur between friendship and something more, you are left grappling with your emotions—unsure of whether you'll be able to stay by Gojo’s side, or if it’s time to move on.

tagsજ⁀➴ college au, hockey player!gojo, band member!reader, angst, slow burn, eventual friends to lovers (maybe), gojo is dumb af, you might dislike gojo in this im sorry, very very mild geto x reader

NOTESજ⁀➴ hope y'all enjoy the new chapter! appreciate all the comments and messages I've gotten so far for my last few chapters! makes me soooo excited to post even more and more! so sorry for the late upload though, school has been CRAZY and i was lowkey spiraling because of this new guy i was talking to but yeah ENJOYYY ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

wcજ⁀➴ 7.5k

taglineજ⁀➴ @kaemaybae @laviefantasie @higuchislut @domilovestoru @aishies-stuff @genxnarumi @username23345 PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE

Two weeks had passed, and Gojo Satoru was a ghost in your life. Not literally, of course—his presence was hard to miss, especially since you still caught glimpses of him with Mina—but the days when he’d linger outside your band practice or wait for you by the bleachers during his hockey drills were long gone.

Instead, his world seemed to orbit around Mina now. He was always meeting her, whether before or after his own practice. The few times you had decided to sit in the bleachers and watch him, hoping he’d wave you over for a laugh or even just a chat, he’d merely sent a casual wave in your direction before rushing to Mina.

By the third time, you decided he wouldn’t miss your absence. Mina was there to take your place.

Now, here you were, stuck in the middle of band practice. The studio walls felt too tight today, and even though the air was filled with the rhythmic clash of drums, the heavy hum of the bass, and the soaring melody of your guitar, the energy in your chest was mismatched.

Your phone sat on the edge of the amp, its screen glaring at you with an all-too-familiar sight: an unread message to Gojo. Delivered. Not even read.

It stung more than you cared to admit, but you knew better than to let it show. You didn’t own him. He didn’t owe you anything.

You shook the thought from your head as the band kicked into another song. This time, you focused.

The song flowed easily under your fingers, each note falling into place with effortless precision. Your hands moved like they had a mind of their own, strumming, pressing, and pulling out the right chords without a second thought.

You hit every note perfectly, the rhythm steady, the melody crisp—technically flawless. But something was off. The music, despite its perfection, felt wrong.

Instead of the light, airy feel the song was meant to have, each strum was laced with tension, harsh and biting, like a storm trapped in a song meant for sunshine. The melody should have danced, should have lifted the mood, but instead, it thundered through the room, loud and jagged. Every note you played was sharp, angry, as though you were trying to fight something—only it wasn’t the song you were supposed to be playing anymore.

The guitar hummed with your frustration, but it wasn’t the kind of emotion the song was supposed to evoke. It was heavy. It was out of place. It was angry. And as you continued, the gap between the song and your soul seemed to widen.

“You’re playing too hard,” Choso called over the final note, his drumsticks resting on the snare. His voice cut through the distorted noise of your thoughts, pulling you back to reality, but only slightly.

You lowered your guitar, chest rising and falling with the weight of the tension still clinging to you. His words didn’t quite register at first—until you looked up, meeting his steady gaze. His brow furrowed, and for the briefest second, you could have sworn he saw right through you, saw past the perfect notes and into the tangled mess inside.

“I hit all the notes, didn’t I?” The words slipped out before you could stop them, sharper than you intended. You didn’t want to look weak, but you couldn’t help it. The question hung in the air, a challenge disguised as doubt. Your fingers still tingled from the aggressive strumming, the burn of the misplaced energy lingering.

“You did,” Yu chimed in from the keyboard. “But it’s not… you. It’s like…” He hesitated, searching for the right words.

“Like you’re following a script,” Choso finished, his dark eyes steady on you. “Instead of playing from the heart.”

Their words hit harder than you expected, stirring a frustration you weren’t ready to face. Before you could snap back, your hand slipped during the next strum. The string bit into your finger, sharp and unforgiving.

“Ah, shit,” you muttered, pulling back as blood welled up on your finger.

Iori, who had been watching from her spot near the mic, immediately stepped away, her voice cutting through the tension. “Break time,” she called, her tone more serious than usual. The mic stand clinked softly as she set it down and moved toward you.

You blinked, still reeling from the sting in your finger. The blood dripped slowly, mixing with the burn of your frustration. Iori was already moving toward the back of the room, opening a cabinet for the first aid kit.

“You okay?” she asked, her voice softer now, but still carrying that steady assurance.

You didn’t answer right away, just watched as she grabbed the kit and walked back over. The room felt strangely quiet without the hum of the music, the weight of their words still hanging in the air. Your hand felt heavy, the cut sharp but not unbearable.

Iori knelt in front of you, gently taking your hand in hers. “Let me see.” Her fingers brushed lightly against your skin as she cleaned the wound. It wasn’t painful, but the act was grounding, calming, almost too much after the storm inside you. You had to look away, feeling the sharp edges of your emotions settle, just for a second.

“You really gotta stop playing so hard,” Iori murmured, her gaze flickering up to meet yours. There was a faint smirk on her face, but there was something else too—understanding, maybe. She didn’t press the issue, though. Instead, she simply wrapped the cut with care, her voice softening. “You’re not gonna get anything out of this if you keep forcing it.”

Her words stuck with you, hanging in the air even as she finished tending to your finger. The sharpness of the cut seemed to mirror the tension inside you, and for a moment, you felt a flicker of understanding in the quiet aftermath. You weren’t just playing with your fingers; you were playing with your heart, and it had all gotten twisted up somewhere along the way.

Iori finished wrapping your finger, her hands gentle as she tended to the cut, but you didn’t feel the same sense of calm you usually did when she was around. Everything felt off, jagged, like even the simplest act was just another reminder of how out of sync you were with yourself. She stepped back, giving you some space, but the words she’d said lingered in the air.

The moment stretched, but you barely noticed it, too lost in your own head. Then, from the corner of your eye, you saw Naoya walking over with a drink in hand. He didn’t say anything at first, just tossed you the can like it was a casual gesture, but you could feel his eyes on you—assessing, calculating.

You caught it without looking, but your fingers felt sluggish, the weight of the can nothing compared to the weight you were carrying. You cracked it open slowly, the fizz rising and popping in the quiet. But it didn’t help.

Naoya sat down next to you, his posture as rigid and sharp as always, but his gaze never left you. There was an uncomfortable intensity in the way he studied you, the usual mockery and sharp edges of his smirk replaced by something a little less abrasive.

He leaned back, tilting his head slightly, eyes narrowing as if searching for something deeper than the surface.

“What’s bothering you now?” he asked, the words more direct than you expected, his voice stripped of any sarcasm or playfulness. “Last time you were like this was two weeks ago, remember? And I don’t think I need to tell you that you don’t exactly have a good track record when you start shutting down.”

His words hit like a cold splash of water, a reminder of the pattern you were stuck in. You had been here before, trapped inside your head, not sure how to get out. It didn’t matter that this time it felt different—like the frustration wasn’t just with the music anymore, but with everything around you, everything inside you. Naoya knew better than to let you avoid the question.

You didn’t answer right away, running your thumb along the lip of the can absentmindedly. The bubbles inside hissed in your ears, but the sound only reminded you of the noise in your own head.

Then, as the silence stretched, Nanami spoke up from his spot across the room, his usual calm voice cutting through the stillness.

“You know, ignoring it won’t help,” he said, his tone more matter-of-fact than anything else. “Whatever this is, bottling it up just makes it worse. You’re not exactly subtle when something’s eating at you.”

You could feel his eyes on you, but you didn’t look up, too tangled in the mess of your thoughts. Your mind raced, too much noise in your head to form a solid answer.

“I… I don’t really know,” you said finally, the words slipping out more honestly than you intended. You shook your head, frustration leaking through your voice.

You sat there in silence, the words hanging in the air. The frustration still churned inside you, a gnawing feeling that didn’t seem to go away no matter how many times you tried to shake it off. It wasn’t just the music. It wasn’t just the cut on your finger. It was everything that had been building up inside you, everything that you hadn’t been able to say or figure out.

Gojo. That name echoed in your mind, but even thinking it made your chest tighten, a knot forming deep in your stomach. It was him—his presence, his expectations, the weight of his shadow that seemed to be clouding everything. You couldn’t put it into words, not here, not now. Not in front of them. But damn, you just wished you could hear his voice. Maybe then, things would feel a little clearer. Maybe just hearing him tell you it was going to be okay would make the world feel less heavy.

The silence stretched on, thick and heavy, until you felt a gentle touch on your shoulder. You looked up, surprised to find Iori watching you, her eyes softer than usual, like she could sense the wall you were putting up.

Without a word, she clasped her hands together and stood up, her movements calm and purposeful. “You know what? Let’s call it a night. Why don’t we order some food and just chill? No pressure, no rehearsing. Just take it easy this time around.”

Her words were simple, but the way she said them felt like a release, like an invitation to let go of the tension that had been creeping up in the room.

You felt the weight of your own silence, the words swirling in your chest that you couldn’t quite voice. Maybe you were being unfair, maybe you were letting everything pile up inside you when they didn’t deserve it. The guilt hit you like a wave, and before you could stop it, you found yourself speaking.

“I’m sorry… I don’t know what’s been going on with me lately. I’ve been... off, I guess.” The words came out clumsy, but they felt necessary. Like if you could just say them, it might ease the tension that had been building inside you for so long.

The room felt quieter as you looked around, but instead of a wave of understanding or sympathy, Choso’s voice cut through, calm and unfazed.

“Don’t sweat it,” he said with his usual nonchalance, leaning back in his seat. His eyes flickered toward you, but there wasn’t any judgment in them, just an effortless coolness. “Everyone has their moments. No big deal.”

He shrugged, looking more like he couldn’t care less, but the ease in his tone made the guilt inside you settle just a little.

“You’re still here, right? That’s what matters.” His words were blunt, but they had a way of hitting exactly where they needed to. No overthinking, no grand speeches. Just... simple reassurance.

You let out a small breath, realizing that maybe it wasn’t so terrible to be like this every once in a while. You weren’t perfect, and neither were they. And that, for some reason, made it all feel a little more manageable.

“Thanks,” you said, the words lighter now, like a burden had shifted off your shoulders.

Iori gave a small, approving nod as you finally relaxed, her smile soft but reassuring. “So, what are we having?”

────────────────────────────────────────────────────

After the food had been devoured, the room was filled with the casual noise of packing up and cleaning up the last bits of the mess. The rest of the crew had already begun to pack up, their laughter and chatter a distant hum as they gathered their things and said their goodbyes. The studio, once filled with the warmth of conversation and the sound of instruments, now felt quieter. The clock on the wall showed that it was nearing midnight, and everyone was ready to call it a night.

You waved them off, telling them you’d close up the studio. The others didn’t seem to mind, already heading out the door with tired smiles and promises to meet at the next session. As the last of them disappeared down the hallway, you stood there in the silence, the door clicking shut behind them.

The studio was empty now, save for the soft hum of the lights above. You set your bag down on the couch, the familiar weight of it suddenly feeling too much. But instead of heading home like you probably should have, you took a deep breath and made your way over to your instrument.

The band had been more than patient with you, more than understanding as you struggled through each practice, trying and failing to get things right. The pressure had been mounting—the gig was right around the corner, and you still hadn’t found your rhythm. But every time you messed up, they were there with encouraging words, with reassurances that you’d get it, that they knew you could.

A wave of gratitude washed over you as you stood there in the quiet studio, staring at your instrument. They could’ve been frustrated with you. They had every right to be. But instead, they were kind, patient, and supportive, letting you take your time. You couldn’t help but feel guilty for not being better, for not meeting their expectations, for not being as good as they believed you were capable of being.

You let the thoughts settle in your mind, but then, as quickly as they came, you shook them away. There was no point in dwelling on what you couldn’t change right now. What mattered was what came next.

You couldn’t take their patience for granted. You couldn’t let them down again. The gig was coming, and you had to be better.

With a steadying breath, you picked up your instrument. The room seemed to fade around you as you closed your eyes, tuning out everything except the steady pulse of your heartbeat and the strings beneath your fingers.

You began to play, your fingers moving over the strings with a gentler touch than before. The aggression was gone, replaced by a quieter intensity. It felt better, more in tune with the mood you wanted to create, but something was still missing. There was a void, a note that you couldn’t reach, a spark that wouldn’t ignite no matter how many times you strummed. The frustration lingered, swirling inside you, gnawing at your concentration.

And just as the frustration began to settle into something heavier, your phone vibrated sharply against the floor where you had tossed it earlier. Startled, you paused mid-strum and glanced over. The name on the screen caught you off guard.

Gojo.

You stared at the caller ID for a moment, your heart doing an unexpected flutter in your chest. What was he calling for? Was it... was it really him? You hesitated, fingers still lingering on the strings, unsure of whether to pick up or let it go to voicemail.

It had been so long since you’d heard his voice, but you didn’t know if you were ready to face it yet. You knew you couldn’t keep running from this, but... this? Right now?

The phone vibrated again in your hand, urging you to decide.

You took a deep breath and answered, your voice shaky as you pressed the phone to your ear. “Hello?”

“Hey,” Gojo’s voice came through, smoother than usual, but there was something about it that felt more serious this time. “I’m downstairs. I’ve been waiting for you.”

You froze, eyes darting to the door like you could somehow see him on the other side. Downstairs? You weren’t sure you’d heard him right.

“Wait... what?” you said, your voice wavering slightly. “You’re downstairs?”

“Yeah,” Gojo responded, his tone firmer now, like he wasn’t messing around. “Come down. I’ll be waiting.”

Your mind raced, trying to make sense of it. You hadn’t expected this, hadn’t expected him to show up out of the blue like this. You looked at your phone, still processing the strange urgency in his voice.

“Uh, alright,” you said, suddenly feeling a rush of nerves. “I’ll be there in a second.”

You hung up quickly, set your guitar down, and grabbed your things, moving with more haste than you had anticipated. The tension in the pit of your stomach only grew as you locked up the practice room and made your way down the hall. Something in his tone had shifted, and it made the usual teasing Gojo feel distant—more... serious.

You rushed down the stairs, the echo of your footsteps against the walls reminding you how quickly everything had shifted. When you finally rounded the corner, you saw him standing by the door, his posture straighter than usual. The smirk was gone, replaced by a focused intensity in his eyes that you rarely saw.

He didn’t greet you with his usual grin or playful jab. Instead, he just looked at you, his gaze unwavering. “Took you long enough,” he said, his voice almost too calm. “Let’s go.”

You swallowed, suddenly feeling like you were in way over your head. But there was no turning back now.

The walk was quiet, but the silence felt different this time. Gojo’s usual cocky confidence was replaced with an almost tangible tension in his posture. He walked with purpose, his strides long and quick, but there was a tightness in the way he carried himself that you hadn’t seen before. It wasn’t like him to be this... off. He always wore that smug grin, that careless energy that made everything feel like a joke. But now? He looked like he was carrying something heavy, something too complicated to shake off.

You wanted to ask him what was going on, but you knew better. If Gojo didn’t bring it up, he wasn’t going to. You could tell that much, even with the unease simmering beneath his usually cool exterior.

You both reached the convenience store, the automatic doors sliding open with a soft whoosh as you entered. The familiar hum of the coolers and the bright fluorescent lights did little to ease the tension hanging between you. You found a seat near the back, not really feeling hungry or in the mood to browse, so you just sat there, hands folded in your lap, eyes following Gojo as he wandered over to the drinks section.

You watched him from the corner of your eye, expecting him to grab his usual—his go-to strawberry iced tea, the one he always joked about being his secret weapon—but to your surprise, his hand reached for something different. He grabbed a can of beer, the silver can catching the dim light as he turned towards the cashier.

Your brows furrowed slightly, not because you had a problem with it, but because it was so out of character for him. Gojo, the always-lighthearted, playful figure, wasn’t someone you expected to be reaching for alcohol, especially not when the atmosphere had been so... different tonight.

He returned to the seat next to you after quickly paying for the drink, the cool can in his hand now making a soft, faintly metallic sound as he cracked it open. The hiss of the carbonation was the only sound between you two for a few moments as he took a long drink, the beer slipping past his lips without the usual playful smirk that usually accompanied any of his actions.

You hesitated, the air thick with unspoken words. You weren’t sure if you should say something or just let him be, but you could feel that something was wrong—something deeper than whatever lighthearted banter he would usually throw your way. You’d known him long enough to see when something was off. Tonight, it was impossible to ignore.

Finally, after a few more moments of silence, you couldn’t hold it in any longer. You turned toward him, your voice quiet but laced with concern. “What’s going on with you, Satoru?”

He didn’t immediately respond, the can still in his hand as he stared straight ahead, his expression unreadable. His lips pressed together in a thin line as if he was weighing his words. The silence stretched on, heavy and thick with anticipation. Then, as though he couldn’t keep it inside any longer, he muttered just one word:

"Mina."

It was soft, almost lost in the distance of the moment. But hearing it—the way it left his lips so raw, so fragmented—sent a jolt through you. This wasn’t the playful Gojo you knew. This was someone who was struggling, someone who didn’t have all the answers.

You blinked, the name hanging in the air like a strange weight. Mina. You’d thought the two of them were the perfect couple. They had that effortless chemistry, the kind of bond that seemed unshakable. Gojo and Mina—it just made sense. They were the kind of pair people would look at and say, "That’s it. They’re meant to be." And yet, hearing Gojo say that name now, in the quiet of this moment, felt like a crack in a carefully built illusion.

You hadn’t expected this. The way he said it, though... so quiet, so far removed from his usual confident, teasing tone, made you pause. You’d never once imagined that Gojo—someone so composed, so unflappable—could be this thrown off by a relationship. It was unsettling to think that things might not be as perfect as they appeared.

Before you could gather your thoughts to ask what had happened, Gojo let out a long sigh, rubbing the back of his neck as if he was already exhausted by the very thought of explaining. “It’s complicated,” he said, cutting off any further questions you might have had.

You could tell from the way he said it, with that tired edge in his voice, that this wasn’t something simple. It wasn’t just an argument or a misunderstanding. There was more beneath the surface—something tangled up in emotions and expectations that Gojo clearly didn’t know how to untangle.

He took another sip from the can, his fingers tight around it once more, like he was trying to hold onto something before it slipped away.

"Tell me,” you said softly, your voice steady despite the tension creeping up your spine. "Whatever it is, you can talk to me."

He looked at the can in his hands for a long moment, his fingers white-knuckled around it. The weight of silence hung heavy in the air before he finally spoke again, his voice quieter this time.

“It’s not that she’s done anything wrong,” he muttered, as if trying to convince himself. “She’s... a good girlfriend. She hasn’t done anything bad, nothing’s wrong with her.”

He let out a frustrated breath, eyes narrowing as he traced the rim of the can with his thumb. “But... it’s like something’s missing. Like, when I first met her, I thought I saw something, you know? There was this... feeling, like we clicked or something. But now, every time I’m with her, it feels... off. It’s not her fault, she’s not doing anything different, it’s just—” He trailed off, searching for the words, but they just wouldn’t come.

He let out a quiet laugh, self-deprecating and bitter. “Maybe I built some kind of... fantasy around her, and now that I’m seeing who she really is, it doesn’t line up. I thought it was something real, but now... I’m not sure.”

You could see it, the confusion in his eyes. He wasn’t blaming her—he wasn’t even sure what was wrong, but the discomfort was there, thick and undeniable. It wasn’t that Mina had changed, but that Gojo’s perception of her had cracked, leaving him to figure out if there was anything left of what he thought was there.

You took a slow breath, trying to find the right words as you watched him wrestle with himself. You could tell this was weighing heavily on him, and it wasn’t just about Mina—it was about Gojo grappling with something deeper, something he wasn’t sure how to explain even to himself.

You leaned back slightly, your voice soft but steady. “I get it,” you said, choosing your words carefully. “When you first meet someone, it’s easy to get swept up in the feeling of it all—the excitement, the newness. And maybe... maybe you started seeing things in her that you wanted to see, or that felt right in the moment.”

You paused, allowing him to process, before continuing. “But just because you’re feeling like things aren’t clicking now, doesn’t mean it’s a lost cause. Sometimes, when we’re with someone, we get so focused on the idea of them that we forget to focus on who they really are. And maybe that's what’s throwing you off—you’re seeing the real her now, and it’s different from the image you had in your head.”

You could see the tension in his face, but you pressed on, keeping your tone gentle. “It’s not a bad thing, Gojo. People aren’t perfect, and relationships are never just about the spark you feel at the beginning. The real connection, the deep stuff, that comes over time. Maybe it’s just a matter of slowing down and letting things evolve naturally, instead of forcing them into some mold you’ve created.”

You shifted slightly, choosing to be honest with him. “It sounds like you’re scared of being disappointed or realizing that it’s not what you thought, but maybe you just need time to figure out who she really is, and who you are with her. You might not have all the answers right now, and that’s okay.”

You gave him a small, understanding smile. “Just don’t give up too soon because of some uncomfortable feelings. If you’re both willing to figure it out, it doesn’t have to be the end of something good. Sometimes it takes work to get through the doubts and see what’s really there.”

Gojo leaned back, his gaze drifting once more as if the answer was just beyond his reach. His hands rested loosely on his knees, the can in his hand now forgotten. His tone was quiet, almost tentative, as he finally spoke.

Gojo sat in silence for a moment, his eyes fixed on the floor as he processed your words. The usual intensity in his expression was softened, like he was turning over each of your points in his mind, carefully weighing them. His hands, once tense around the can, were now resting in his lap, fingers loosely intertwined as if the weight had lifted, even just slightly.

You could feel the shift, the way his posture had changed. He was listening—not just hearing—but truly taking in what you were saying. He took a deep breath, his shoulders easing as he finally looked up, meeting your gaze. There was a flicker of clarity in his eyes, though the storm wasn’t fully gone yet.

“I get it,” he said, his voice low but sincere. “I understand where you're coming from. You're right. Maybe I’ve been too focused on this idea I had about her, this... perfect picture I painted in my head. And now that it’s not lining up, it’s throwing me off. I’m just... I guess I was expecting things to be a certain way, and now it feels like I’m not even sure where I stand anymore.”

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as his gaze drifted down again, looking almost lost in thought. “I know you’re right. I can’t expect everything to be perfect, and I shouldn’t be so quick to judge her for not matching whatever image I had. But—” He paused, the hesitation creeping back into his voice.

"But..." you prompted gently, knowing there was more he was holding back.

Gojo’s eyes flicked to you, a mixture of frustration and uncertainty crossing his features. “But… I’m just not sure if she’s the one,” he said, his voice trailing off like he was unsure even about admitting it to himself. He ran a hand through his hair, looking anywhere but at you for a moment, as if the words felt too heavy.

“It’s not like I don’t care about her. I do. And she’s a good person. She’s been nothing but kind to me, and we get along well enough. But... I don’t know. It’s just this nagging feeling I can’t shake. Like, maybe we’re not as compatible as I thought we were. Like, something’s missing.” He let out a frustrated sigh, staring at the ground for a long moment.

He looked up at you then, his expression conflicted. “I don’t want to keep second-guessing myself, but at the same time... I don’t want to lead her on if I’m not sure. I don’t want to be the guy who’s just going through the motions, thinking it’ll work out, when deep down I’m not sure if we’re actually right for each other. It wouldn’t be fair to her.”

He glanced at you with a bit of vulnerability in his eyes, a rare sight for Gojo. “I mean, I don’t want to keep dragging her into something if I’m not sure I can give her what she needs. And I can’t help but wonder if... if I’m just waiting for something that isn’t there.”

He let the silence linger for a beat before he shook his head, running a hand over his face. “It’s not that I don’t like her. It’s just... am I really feeling what I thought I was? Or was it just... a good idea in my head?”

You hesitated, unsure of the right thing to say, because this wasn’t exactly the kind of situation you were used to dealing with. Gojo was always so confident, so sure of himself, and now, seeing him so lost—it felt unfamiliar and honestly, a little overwhelming.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, unsure how to ease his tension. You knew that you couldn’t just throw out words of wisdom like it was all simple, because it wasn’t. It wasn’t simple for him, and you didn’t want to make it worse by trying to give advice that sounded too rehearsed.

After a long pause, you spoke, trying to find a balance between understanding and honesty. “I mean, I can’t tell you what to do. It’s not like I have the answers for this kind of stuff.” You let out a soft, nervous laugh, realizing that you weren’t exactly the expert here.

“But...” You trailed off, trying to gather your thoughts. “You’re not alone in feeling confused about this. Relationships are messy, and sometimes, it’s hard to know what the right thing is. What you’re feeling—doubt, uncertainty—it’s not abnormal. It’s just... part of figuring things out.”

You fidgeted a little, glancing down at your hands. “I guess what I’m trying to say is... it’s okay not to have all the answers. I think you just need to give yourself permission to take a step back. Maybe let it go a bit slower, without all the pressure to know if it's ‘the one’ right away. And if something’s still unclear, then... you can figure it out. It doesn’t have to be right or wrong all at once.”

You looked up at him again, your voice softer. “It’s just, don’t feel like you have to have it all figured out right now. I’m not sure if that helps or anything, but... that’s the best I got.”

Gojo was quiet for a moment, taking everything in, and you couldn’t help but wonder if your words had actually made any impact. But then he turned to you, a small smile tugging at his lips. It wasn’t his usual teasing grin, but something softer, almost relieved.

“Man, look at you getting all deep and philosophical. Didn’t know you had it in you,” he teased, his voice light and playful.

You blinked, feeling a rush of heat to your face. “Shut up,” you muttered, trying to act like you weren’t completely embarrassed by the whole thing. “I’m just trying to help, okay?”

Gojo chuckled, clearly enjoying the way you reacted. “I know, I know. But seriously, I didn’t think you were the ‘advice-giving’ type. I’ll be honest, that was a little... sappy.”

You huffed, crossing your arms and glaring at him, though you could feel the warmth on your cheeks. “Well, maybe you need it. You act like you have everything figured out, but look at you now—getting all lost in your own head.”

He held his hands up in mock surrender, still grinning. “Okay, okay, I get it. Sappy, but helpful. Can’t deny that. But don’t let it go to your head.”

You looked at him, now slightly less flustered, and offered a small smile. “Yeah, well, I’m just saying... Sometimes things aren’t as simple as we want them to be. It’s okay not to have everything figured out right away. Relationships take time.”

Gojo met your eyes, his expression more thoughtful now, and he let out a long breath. “Yeah... I guess I’ve been putting too much pressure on myself to have it all figured out. Thanks for the reminder.” His smile came back, softer this time. “You’ve got a point. Maybe I do need to take a step back and just see where it goes.”

You nodded, feeling a little more at ease now. “It’s not a race, ‘Toru. Don’t rush it. Just let things happen as they do.”

There was a comfortable silence between you for a moment, before Gojo broke it, his tone still teasing but less guarded.

“Alright, alright. I’ll try to take it slow, philosopher,” he said with a wink.

You rolled your eyes, but the tension had definitely eased. “Yeah, yeah, just don’t get all sappy on me again.”

Gojo grinned, clearly in a better place than before. “I’ll try to spare you from that. But hey, next time you drop some deep wisdom on me, I’ll be ready.”

You flushed a little again but couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. “Don’t push it, Gojo.”

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

As the two of you walked back home, the air between you had shifted. The tension that had lingered for so long was finally gone, replaced by a quiet comfort that settled over both of you. You found yourself walking in step with Gojo, the rhythm of your footsteps syncing naturally as you let the silence between you stretch, not feeling the need to fill it with words.

Now that the weight of the conversation had lifted, you allowed your gaze to wander to him, something you hadn’t done too openly before.

There was something almost disarming about Gojo when the playful edge in his voice softened, when he wasn’t in “Gojo mode.” His features, though still sharp and striking, held a kind of warmth that you hadn’t expected to see, a rawness that only revealed itself in moments like this—when he was being real with you.

His eyes, usually full of that mischievous glint, looked calmer now, more reflective, and as the light from the streetlamps caught his hair, it almost seemed to glow with an ethereal quality. The way he carried himself, effortlessly cool yet undeniably human, made you pause and just take him in, appreciating him for a moment. His presence felt different now—less overwhelming and more... grounding.

And then, as if on cue, you caught yourself smiling, soft and almost wistful. It was strange, the way just being near him—hearing his voice, feeling the quiet ease that had settled between you—seemed to heal something inside you, something you hadn’t even realized was aching until it started to fade away.

It was like the weight of the world didn’t seem so heavy anymore. Like, somehow, everything felt a little more manageable in the moment.

You allowed yourself to enjoy the moment a little longer, the quiet warmth between you two still lingering as you walked the rest of the way home. But even as you let yourself bask in the calm, a part of you couldn't fully relax. Deep down, you knew this wasn't something that would last long. Gojo had been here tonight because of his issue with Mina, and once that was sorted out, you figured things would go back to how they were before—back to the teasing, playful banter and the walls he'd built up around himself.

It wasn’t that you didn’t enjoy this version of him, the one that was more genuine, more grounded—it was just that you knew the reality. Once he figured things out with Mina, he’d go back to being the Gojo everyone knew. And you’d go back to being just... you.

You reached the front door of your apartment, the familiar hum of the city in the background, and paused. Turning to face Gojo, you smiled, though the weight of your thoughts lingered in the back of your mind.

"Thanks for walking me home," you said, keeping your voice light, though there was a little more softness to it than usual.

Gojo looked at you, his usual playful grin starting to creep back, but there was something different in his eyes. A flicker of sincerity from earlier still hung there. "Of course," he said with a casual shrug. "What would I do if you got caught up in some crazy situation without me? You know I can’t let that happen."

His voice was light, but the way he said it carried an undercurrent of care, something unspoken that made the words feel warmer than they usually would.

You raised an eyebrow, unable to help a small laugh. “I’m pretty sure I could manage, but I’ll take it as a compliment.”

He shot you that signature grin, the one that could charm just about anyone, but there was still a softness to it now—an openness that didn’t quite match his usual carefree demeanor.

"Hey, I’m just saying," he said with a smirk, "if you ever need a bodyguard, you know where to find me."

Despite the playfulness in his tone, you could feel the weight of the moment pressing in on both of you. The reality of the situation, of his relationship with Mina, still lingered in the air, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that this moment—this brief, real side of Gojo—might slip away once everything was sorted out.

You pushed the thought down and smiled, trying to keep the mood light. "I’ll keep that in mind," you replied, though part of you wasn’t sure you’d ever need him that way.

There was a brief pause, and then you cleared your throat, pulling yourself back into the present. "I really do hope things work out with Mina, Satoru," you said, your voice sincere. "You deserve to get everything figured out."

Gojo’s smile faltered slightly at the mention of Mina. It wasn’t the usual teasing grin anymore, but something softer, more thoughtful, as though the thought of her pulled him out of the moment for a second.

He reached up, almost absentmindedly, to ruffle your hair, a subtle attempt to lighten the mood. “You worry too much,” he said, his voice a little quieter, his fingers running through your hair in a playful but gentle motion.

You flinched, swatting his hand away lightly. “Satoru, come on, you’re messing it up.”

Gojo chuckled softly at your reaction, but instead of pulling his hand away, he kept it there, his fingers still resting on your head. He gave you a gentle pat this time, his touch light but lingering, almost like he didn’t want to break the moment just yet.

He was staring at you, his expression unreadable, as if there was something in his gaze that wasn’t quite matching his usual carefree attitude. For a split second, the usual playful energy around him seemed to dissipate, replaced by something softer. Something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

Despite how many times Gojo had been touchy with you before, this time was different. His gaze felt heavier, more intense, and it made you feel uncomfortably aware of the way his hand rested on you. A soft heat spread through you, and before you knew it, your cheeks were flushing, the warmth creeping up your neck.

Then, almost absentmindedly, Gojo’s hand dropped from your hair to gently cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over the soft skin beneath your eye. You froze at the touch, your breath catching in your throat as the tender motion sent a shiver down your spine.

His touch was so gentle, so unexpectedly intimate, that it left you momentarily speechless. Gojo’s thumb continued its slow, soothing stroke over your cheek, his eyes still locked onto yours, watching the way your expression shifted.

For a moment, everything else seemed to fade away—the night, the world around you, even the uncertainty that had been lingering in the air. It was just him, just you, and the quiet tension that seemed to wrap itself around the both of you, neither of you daring to move or speak.

You couldn’t help but feel your heart race, unsure of what this moment meant or how to react to it. You’d never felt quite so exposed in front of him, as if his touch and gaze were pulling something out of you that you didn’t know was there.

Gojo’s smile was still soft, his eyes not leaving yours, but there was something about the way he looked at you—something different than before. A strange vulnerability, maybe, or perhaps just a shared moment of silence that neither of you had the words to explain.

And for a heartbeat, everything felt... unsettled, as though the line between what was familiar and what was new had blurred just enough to make you question whether you were still in control of the situation.

You broke the silence, your voice barely above a whisper, but it cut through the stillness like a soft breeze. “Satoru?”

The sound of your voice seemed to snap Gojo out of whatever trance he had been in. His eyes blinked rapidly, as though he were shaking himself back to reality, and the softness that had filled the air between you suddenly wavered.

Gojo blinked rapidly, his eyes shifting as if he were suddenly realizing what had just occurred. His hand pulled away from your cheek like it was almost burning, and he stepped back, an almost startled expression crossing his face. The teasing, playful demeanor faltered for a second, and you could see the surprise flicker in his eyes—not just from you, but perhaps from the moment itself.

"Ah... sorry," he muttered quickly, running a hand through his hair in an awkward gesture that didn’t quite match his usual calm. “Didn’t mean to... uh... get so close.”

He cleared his throat, visibly trying to regain his usual composure. With a shaky smile, he waved his hand as if brushing it off. "Anyway, I should get going."

You nodded, a strange tightness in your chest. He was already backing away, his voice lighter than before but with a hint of haste in it. "Take care, alright?" His tone was almost clipped, a sharp contrast to the softness that had lingered moments before.

You wanted to say something, to stop him, but the words got stuck in your throat. You simply watched as Gojo, with one last glance over his shoulder, turned and started walking down the hallway.

He didn't look back this time, his figure disappearing into the distance and then into the lift, the doors sliding shut behind him with a soft, almost final sound.

The quietness that followed felt almost suffocating, the cool night air filling the space where he had stood. You stood there, staring at the spot where he had just been, unsure of what to make of everything. Your heart was still racing, the lingering touch on your cheek echoing in your mind, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted, but you couldn't quite put your finger on what it was.

As the sound of the elevator faded away, all you were left with was the lingering memory of him, his touch, his gaze—and the sudden weight of everything unsaid.

[gulliblelemon]

gulliblelemon's fics

I thought I should probably have a place where I put all of my fics together and update as I go. I don't want to put this as my pinned post - I like having my fic recs there! But I'll link to this so hopefully it's not too hard to find. I've tried to be accurate with my genre tags, but it's well-known that my angst barometer is broken. If you think I've got any wrong, let me know!

If you're after a particular vibe I've also done separate posts for genre here: angsty, hurt/comfort, fluffy, pining, long fics, short fics

Please Try Again Later (canon-div, T, 32k) - angst, hurt/comfort What would have happened if Simon was around when Wille got the call about Erik.

Happy 18th, Crown Prince Wilhelm (post-canon-div, G, 4.3k) - fluff Canon divergence from end of s2. Outsider's POV of Wille's 18th birthday celebrations if he hadn't stepped down.

What Would I Do Without You? (AU series, T, 37k) - fluff, angst, hurt/comfort How things might have gone differently if Wille and Felice were already best friends before Hillerska. Starts with some (very) fluffy one shots, gets angstier.

i want it to be easier (canon, T, 1.4k) - pining Missing moment with Simon, Rosh and Ayub from s2e5 after "Did he just say he'd give up the crown for you?"

See You (Soon) (AU, T, 18k) - fluff, pining Wille didn't go to Hillerska but sees Simon at the jubilee. And does everything in his power to see him again. And again.

The Umbrella (AU, T, 35k) - pining A University AU in which Simon and Wilhelm meet by accident. They continue to bump into each other until they start to form a tentative friendship.

Making Music (AU, M, 15k) - fluff, pining A non-royal AU where both Simon and Wilhelm are on a three week intensive music course in the old Hillerska building.

Where We Left Off (AU, T, 84k) - angst, pining, hurt/comfort Simon meets Wilhelm by accident in the wake of Erik's sudden death. This story follows their lives through the years, and through more of their accidental and on-purpose meetings.

The Last Slice (post-canon, T, 2.9k) - fluff(?) Wille is invited to play video games with The Gang. He has a few things he needs to say.

Unconventional (canon-div, T, 1.8k) - fluff Canon divergence where Wille doesn't step down, a moment where he makes a decision about his future with Simon.

Controversial Clothing Opinions (post-canon, T, 1.3k) - fluff What does Wille think of the infamous plaid pants?

It's Just Us Now (canon, T, 1.8k) - fluff, light angst Wille's internal monologue during movie night s1e2.

Thirteen (AU, T, 4.1k) - fluff Wilhelm is not enjoying his thirteenth birthday. That is until a beautiful boy stumbles across him and invites him to join him and his friends having fun in the palace grounds.

Paper Frogs and Fairy Tales (AU, T, 21k) - fluff, pining Simon works in a bookshop. Wilhelm shows up for a royal book event. Neither of them are particularly pleased with this set up... at first.

Why'd You Invite Me In The Middle Of The Night? (AU, T, 11k) - angst, pining Wilhelm and Simon were best friends at school, until Wilhelm pushed Simon away and stopped speaking to him. Years later, Simon receives a text from Wille inviting him to his wedding.

I'll Wash, You Dry (post-canon, T, 1.1k) - hurt/comfort Simon and Sara have a moment to talk about forgiveness and the future.

Purple (post-canon, G, 1k) - fluff Simon asks why Wille chose purple for his nails. A small post canon conversation, and then a peek into the future.

In The Crowd (AU, T, 7.6k) - fluff Ex-Crown Prince Wilhelm enjoys open mic nights at small, unassuming bars. Simon is an aspiring musician trying his hand at performing.

Intoxicating (post-canon, G, 300) - fluff Simon likes how Wille smells

Dear Diary (canon, T, 2.1k) - fluff Three entries from Simon's diary, one during s1e5, two post canon.

Multicoloured Snapshots (AU, T, 6k) - fluff, pining Linda is getting remarried. Simon approves of her husband-to-be but the wedding preparations he's gotten roped into are a huge hassle. At least the photographer is cute...

Worth The Wait (canon-div, T, 16k) - angst, pining What would happen if Wille arrived at Hillerska already in a relationship. The story of Wille and Simon (and Felice's) friendship over the years as they grow closer and ignore the obvious.

Future Favourite Regret (AU, T, 12k) - fluff, pining Simon spots Wille across a crowded room. After spending a night together, they go their separate ways. But apparently the universe thinks they're not done yet.

Anywhere With You (AU, M, 57k) - fluff, angst, hurt/comfort When Simon lands a singing job on a luxury cruise liner, he expects to work for a few months and head back home. What he doesn't expect is to fall in love.

Simon Eriksson Is Not Sick (post-canon, G, 1.3k) - fluff, hurt/comfort Simon Eriksson is not sick. Except he is. Luckily he has the best boyfriend in the world.

Autumn Drabbles (post-canon, G, 1.4k) - fluff, hurt/comfort A series of 14 drabbles written about the first autumn post-canon. Almost completely fluffy.

YR Drabble Week Collection (mix, T, 1k) - fluff, hurt/comfort A series of 10 drabbles. Some AU, some during canon, some post-canon, some canon-divergence.

The Icing On The Cake (AU, T, 12.3k) with @iwouldnevergetintofanfic - fluff Somehow, Wille has managed to end up holding the fort in Felice's cake shop. Of course, the worst case happens and a customer walks in. Not just any customer, though. No, the most beautiful man Wille has ever laid eyes on.

And I Need You Now Tonight (AU, T, 30k) - angst, hurt/comfort Simon and Wille have... an arrangement. But then something happens that throws their delicate agreement out of the window, and they're left having to figure out what they are to each other. Enemies? Indifferent colleges? Friends? Or... something else?

Paper Stars and Fairy Lights (AU, T, 11k) - fluff Simon has already had enough of Christmas when his car brakes down just when he's trying to buy a Christmas tree. Help comes from the most unlikely of places, and maybe he and the Prince of Sweden can help each other to rediscover the joy of Christmas.

Warm This Winter (AU, T, 6.7k) - fluff Simon is helping Linda run her stall at the Christmas Market. And he is cold. Luckily there is hot chocolate. And intriguing strangers who make it their mission to make sure Simon stays warm.

Ally Wherever You Land (canon-div, M, 47k) - (light) fluff, (light) angst, pining, (light) hurt/comfort The initiation scandal breaks before Wilhelm is enrolled at Hillerska. Erik finds himself having to win the public's approval and recruits Wilhelm's help, along with a Hillerska student who might raise Erik's profile within the LGBTQ+ community: Simon Eriksson.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

can I get 16 and 19 with charlie

16. ‘’The nerd never gets the hot girl, that’s just the way it is.’’ + 19. ‘’I never said I didn’t want to kiss you.’’

SCREAM WEEK PT 2/7

This is my first time writing for Charlie, please don't let this flop. He is not as popular as the other Ghostfaces, but I'm a sucker for horror movie nerds

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

Kirby shifted beside you, trying to not fall asleep as the movie continued playing on the TV. ‘’When this one ends, I’m going home. I promised myself I would never watch this monstrosity again, but here we are.’’ She took the almost empty bowl of popcorn to keep herself busy and awake. 

The Curse of Michael Myers wasn’t the best of the franchise, but it was part of it and you were doing a Halloween marathon. 

‘’What? Come on, Kirby. It’s not even midnight!’’ you protested, not wanting her to leave yet. ‘’The next one if H20. It has its flaws, but it also has Jamie Lee Curtis going after Michael with an axe.’’

Kirby hesitated, clearly torn. ‘’I don’t know…’’ 

‘’And you promised to drive me home,’’ you reminded her. ‘’I don’t want to leave yet. We have at least two more to go.’’ 

‘’Four if we include the Rob Zombie remakes,’’ Charlie chimed in from the armchair.

You almost forgot those two. 

‘’I’m not sitting through four more movies. My ass is starting to meld with this couch,’’ the blonde grumbled.

You rolled your eyes. It wasn’t the most comfortable couch, but at least it was bigger than Robbie’s. The last time you tried to have a movie night at his house, three people had to sit on the floor. 

‘’I can walk you home if you want?’’ Charlie offered, secretly not wanting you to leave yet.

When the movie ended, Charlie went to the kitchen for drinks while you were switching the DVDs. He had a hefty collection above the television, which you were slightly jealous of. He even owned expensive collector pieces — counting a Jigsaw puppet —, but they were upstairs in his bedroom. 

‘’Did you set it up?’’ Charlie asked, returning to the living room. 

You hummed, grabbing the throw blanket from the back of the couch and laying it over your lap. It wasn’t cold, but you liked the feeling of it on your skin. 

Charlie handed you your drink and went to sit back on the armchair, you stopped him. ‘’You don’t have to sit all the way there, Kirby’s spot is free.’’ 

Without thinking it through, Charlie sat beside you, momentarily forgetting that he gets sweaty and nervous when he’s close to you. God, he felt like such a loser. 

The movie started, and the familiar Halloween theme music echoed through the speakers. 

Toward the middle of the movie, you were both quoting the movie and laughing. It wasn’t your first time seeing it. Nor your second. 

Although you had been in the same friend group since Sophomore year, it was rare that you were hanging out alone with Charlie. He and Robbie were inseparable, and you tended to spend most of your time with Kirby and Olivia. Outside of your passion for horror movies, you didn’t have much in common. You weren’t even from the social scale at school. 

Absent-mindedly, you had moved closer to him. You didn’t know when or how, but Charlie, on the other hand, did notice and shifted uncomfortably, feeling the warmth radiating from your body beside him. He could smell the faintest notes of your perfume, making him realize that if he was close enough to kiss you. But he couldn’t do that. Instead, he took a sip of his drink, trying to quiet his thoughts.

‘’She’s going after him!’’ You grabbed Charlie’s arm in excitement as you watched Jamie Lee break the glass and take the axe. ‘’Go Laurie! Chop his head off!’’ you said at the screen despite already knowing what will happen. 

Charlie's gaze flickered between you and the TV, savoring the moments in your company. When would he get another night like this?

‘’There’s no way he can return after that.’’ 

‘’Yet he does,’’ Charlie said as the credits rolled in. ‘’They briefly explain in Resurrection that Laurie killed the wrong person on Halloween night, thinking it was Michael Myers. It was a paramedic. Personally, I think that’s farfetched. They should have let him die.’’

You twisted your torso to look at Charlie. ‘’But that’s the thing with Michael. He always comes back.’’ 

‘’I actually have a theory about that,’’ Charlie began, leaning closer to you as if sharing a secret. ‘’It’s the mask that makes him impossible to kill. Have you noticed that he always wears it when they proclaim him as ‘dead’? It’s probably cursed or something. That’s how he keeps surviving. They should take his mask off, and then chop his head.’’ 

‘’Like Jason and the Crystal lake? They always dump him back in the lake when he dies,’’ you said, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

Charlie grinned. ‘’Exactly!’’ 

He should get up and switch the DVD, but his eyes glanced down at your pink lips, looking soft and inviting. Charlie knew the outcome wouldn’t be the one he dreamed about, but he leaned in anyway, his lips drawing closer to yours. But before they could touch, you pulled back to dodge his kiss. 

‘’Charlie…’’ you whispered, your voice barely above a breath.

Embarrassment rushed through his body, his gaze dropping to the floor knowing that things would never be quite the same after this. ‘’Eh, sorry, I shouldn’t have. I should have known.’’ He shook his head, forcing a laugh. ‘’The nerd never gets the hot girl, that’s just the way it is…’’

Awkwardness filled the room, neither of you speaking for several minutes.  

‘’I…I’m gonna go switch the movie.’’ 

Left alone on the couch, you bit your bottom lip. Why didn’t you let him kiss you? You dodged his kiss by pure instinct. Because Charlie was different from the guys you dated, but different isn't always bad. You had a great time tonight in his company. He was sweet, caring, and you liked how passionate he was about the things he loved. 

Your eyes watched him carefully put the movie back into its case and take out the next. His movements were slower, dreading to return to his seat. 

‘’Charlie?’’ 

‘’Do you want another drink? Or popcorn? I could go make another round of popcorn—’’

‘’Charlie,’’ you repeated. ‘’Just come sit.’’ 

He pressed the button to slide the DVD back in the player, then returned to the couch. His heart was pounding in his chest, unable to shake off the embarrassment of his failed attempt at a kiss. He wanted the cushions to swallow him like they did to Glen in Nightmare on Elm street. 

‘’Charlie, I'm sorry I pulled away earlier,’’ you began softly, not wanting to make things any more awkward.

‘’It’s fine,’’ he brushed off, grabbing the remote and pressing ‘play’.

‘’It’s not.’’ You shifted to sit sideways, trying to get Charlie’s attention. ‘’Can we try it again? I want to change the ending.’’ 

His eyebrows furrowed in surprise, a mixture of disbelief and hope swirling in them. ‘’What?’’ 

‘’Kiss me.’’

Air got stuck in Charlie’s throat. No way you were being serious. ‘’You’re fucking with me…’’ 

You cupped the back of his neck and leaned in slowly. ‘’I never said I didn’t want to kiss you,’’ you whispered, tucking a piece of his hair behind his ear as you looked into his blue eyes. ‘’You just…took me by surprise.’’ 

Unlike in his dreams, Charlie didn't wake up, you pressed your lips against his.

You tried to keep the kiss soft and controlled, but Charlie wanted more. His hand found your hips, gently gripping them as he slipped his tongue past your lips, no longer interested in watching the movie that just began. You let your hands wander from his shoulder to his hair, pulling at the roots and eliciting sweet noises from him. He clung to you for dear life, air escaping his lungs and soon finding himself out of breath, but he couldn’t stop kissing you. You were like a drug, and he wanted more.

‘’No,’’ Charlie whined when you broke the kiss. He attempted to chase after your lips, but you kissed along his jawline, nipping and nibbling a trail from his ear down the column of his neck. ‘’Aah, fuck.’’ 

You smiled against his skin, loving how responsive he was.  

Grabbing at the front of his unbuttoned plaid shirt, you pulled him with you as you leaned against the armrest of the couch. Charlie settled into your widespread legs, shifting so he wouldn’t press his whole body weight on you. 

‘’See, sometimes the nerd does get the hot girl.’’ 

—

Scream taglist: @misfityanii @beautybyfire @iluvscream191 @mariposa555 @bella7866 @o638 @lulubelle14 @luvvtxinityy @frasersgf  @Eddiefrickenmunson @jasperr-the-friendly-ghost @ghostf4cee @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @wandaswigglywoos @xjennyx2 @jennasslut @thatonesblog  @mikaelsonsstuff @icarly23 @tcddszn  @bt.oliana  @skyesthebomb @a1mzcruml3y @red1culous @iluurmom @popeheywardssecretgf @michaelangdonsslut @byhrxb @kamthecoolest @kattybug @ravenstrueluv @landryslxys @die4niyahhh  @sl4sh3rfuck3r @radiant-whore  @Meadzy21 @luci1fer @nomorespahgetti  @bloodyhw  @depthsofdespairr  @bellysbeach @wilmalovegood @loupiotesworld  @wenvierismycomfort @t-candy  @s-al-em  @darylscvmdumpster  @tommysaxes  @adaydreamaway08 @johannelis2302nely @aqshua @lynbubble @luiise @planetkt @vampyrgoff @adrluvh @mymultiveres  @miqi-16 @not-liah  @lovenats01 @doestalker @lonelywitchv2 @lausley336  @arinexeisnotworking @halforangecuts @l3ndryz  @ilovelandry  @your-platonic-gay-lover @danniackerman  @angelxxrose @lottiefromsam  @thecrowdedstreetin1944 @cinnamonbun222 @angelxxrose @lottiefromsam @zoeynicolas @thecrowdedstreetin1944 @cinnamonbun222 @pumkinnroses @cruzgrecia @sunnysunny133696 @aesthetixhoe  @gizmodecaprio @bingsbitch @buckyswhxre  @emerald-09

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[greensagephase]

Nonviolent Communication - Part Eight

Miguel O'Hara x SpideyFemReader

Summary: Your spider senses go off in the middle of the night, and you can't figure out why. Miguel goes out on a mission alone.

Word Count: 14,258 (I think I can safely say this will be the last time it ever gets to this. I thought about splitting this part but didn't want to leave you guys on a cliffhanger.)

Warnings: Some violence; mention of blood; explosions; angst; death

Music inspo while writing (in order):

"Sleepwalk" - Santo & Johnny (instrumental)

"Les" - Childish Gambino (instrumental)

"Adrian" - Bill Conti (instrumental) (I watched some of the "Rocky" movies and thought this song was so beautiful and tender)

"Amor Eterno" (instrumental) (iykyk, and I'm sorry if you do)

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine |

***Beautiful fanart for Nonviolent Communication has been created by lovely artists and you can find it all linked in my masterlist under fanart. Please go and show some love to the artists!! Their art is BEAUTIFUL!! ❤️***

Part Eight

“The tension in the room right now is palpable,” Pav mutters as you and him stand side by side in Peter and Mary Jane’s living room.

“My bet is on Miles,” you reply quietly.

“Hm, I think Noir has this one,” he replies as the two of you look over at Miles and Noir.

“Miles has this in the bag,” Hobie murmurs behind you and Pav, making both of you turn around to look at him.

The three of you watch behind a couch as Miles and Noir, who are sitting on the floor around the living room’s console table, eye each other as they play UNO. The group started out with them, Hobie, Gwen, Pav, and you while Peter, Mary Jane, Penny, Margo, and Peter Porker watched. You were unfortunately the third one out followed by Hobie, leaving Noir and Miles as the two final players.

The others are watching from the couch, trying to hold their giggles. It’s Friday night, which means you and the rest of the group came over for dinner at Peter and Mary Jane’s universe. It’s a weekly dinner and one you’ve learned to love. It gives you something to look forward to on the weekend because it means you and your friends can relax and engage outside of work.

Peter and Mary Jane cook but the rest of you bring something over, which means that there’s usually a large dinner. Dinner always takes about an hour or so since you all catch up on what’s happening in your lives, which means that each week you and the other adults get to hear the younger people talk about school and some new drama. Of course, there’s also some talk about missions and anomalies considering most of you are spider-people. Then, after helping Peter and Mary Jane clean up, you all gather in the living room to play games.

Ten minutes later, Miles wins the game and Noir complains about the cards’ colors. After a good laugh, you all have a slice of cake, which you baked yourself, before everyone starts heading out. You say your goodbyes and thank Peter and Mary Jane for dinner before you head back to your universe. You change into your pajamas almost immediately, but you don’t head to bed just yet.

Instead, you grab a book from your bookshelf and take a seat on your couch. It’s ten p.m. on a rainy Friday night. You look around your apartment as you snuggle onto the couch with a blanket thrown over your legs. You open the book but you look up, your eyes taking in your small apartment.

It's officially four years since Peter’s death. His death anniversary was a couple of days ago and of course, there were some tears but for the most part, you handled it well. You visited him and spent some time at the cemetery. You went through some photo albums, taking a walk down memory lane.

Four years.

Where did the time go? You sigh as you look around your apartment. Time has gone by, but it doesn’t seem like it did in your apartment. It still looks the same as it did back when Peter was alive. It’s a personal choice. You wanted to keep everything the same. So, you have the same wall decorations the two of you hung together. The furniture is unchanged and it all remains in the original places you and Peter chose back in the day.

As you hear the soft pit pat of rain on your windows, you feel the urge to change some things around. Or maybe add new things.

You nod to yourself, thinking of what you’d like to do but decide to leave that for another day. It’s already a good sign you’re thinking of redecorating a little bit. You turn back to the book and begin to read, hoping that the reading and calm rain will lure you to sleep, which won’t be hard as you’re already feeling exhausted from the missions you were a part of today plus the patrolling of your city.

Soon enough, you notice your eyes begin to skip lines and you’re having to find your place multiple times. You decide to call it a night when you see it’s midnight. You do your night routine before you slide into bed, drifting off without any trouble.

Miguel stares at one of his many monitors, standing on his platform. His eyes scan the information before him despite it being two in the morning. He scrolls a bit to see more information. It’s all the data that was collected the previous day on anomaly matter from multiple universes. Of course, Lyla reads the information and always lets him know when there’s something worth discussing but Miguel often prefers to go in and check himself. As he finishes reading the data from a specific section, he stretches his back to relieve some of the tension. He hears his back pop, and he sighs in relief before he returns to reading.

Miguel has been sleeping once a week at his penthouse for multiple weeks now but tonight is not one of those nights. Tonight, he’ll stay here in his empty lab like most nights. Even if he wanted to go home, he can’t. He feels restless. He notices the time on his monitors, of course. He finds himself wishing it was day already and he doesn’t know why. He sighs to himself, closing his eyes for a few seconds trying to regain his focus, so he can concentrate on the data, but he cannot. His fingers move on their own and soon, he’s looking at a video of himself and Gabriella, when he gifted her a soccer ball. He stares at the video fondly, remembering her happiness when she saw the gift. He closes it before he gets off his platform with another sigh and begins to walk out of his lab.

He exits his lab into one of the many hallways of HQ, deciding to take a walk to clear his mind. Miguel doesn’t really pay attention to where he’s going. He’s just walking. He does this sometimes when his brain needs a moment during the long nights. He walks the empty hallways and cafeteria, eyes scanning the city from behind the large windows. He cannot make much of it due to the rain falling against the glass, which has created a blurry effect. Still, Miguel can see the faint lights of flying cars and other buildings’ lights in the distance.

He walks and walks. It’s early Saturday morning and here he is, walking through an empty HQ. He eventually returns to his lab. His mind feels more at ease but there’s still something that gnaws at him. He resumes his work at his platform, scanning his monitors. Everything looks fine. He sighs again and begins to read the data, but that feeling is still there. It’s like Miguel knows that at any moment, Lyla will appear and tell him that something’s wrong.

He moves the screen closer, willing himself to concentrate. To ignore the feeling, but five minutes later, one of his screens flashes red and Lyla appears.

“Miguel – two anomalies have been detected. Earth-42. They just entered the universe.”

And there it is. Miguel’s mask immediately covers his face as he leaps off his platform.

“Two anomalies… Who are they? Are they in the system?” Miguel asks as he starts clicking on his gizmo, preparing to open a portal to travel.

“One of them is a Green Goblin version. The other one is not in our system. First time,” Lyla reports.

Miguel nods, wasting no time once the portal opens. He steps out onto a rooftop on Earth-42, the same one that was cleaned up by Miles and his variant from this Earth over a year ago when he ended up sent here by the Go Home Machine. As Miguel steps out onto a rooftop, he’s unable to stop himself from briefly scanning the city. What a difference. The city is well lit, calm, and there’s still a buzz of people despite the time and rain but Miguel quickly focuses on the task at hand, putting his thoughts behind.

He looks around the area, trying to catch sight of the anomalies. He spots the first one, an unknown anomaly running in circles on the street below. There’s no sight of the Green Goblin, however, so he decides to catch this strange anomaly first and then pursue the Green Goblin.

As he heads straight for the anomaly, Miguel’s eyes scan it, trying to get an idea of how dangerous it might be. The body is a white cybernetic one. The head, which is a male human head, is inside a container filled with liquid. Glass makes up the front portion of the container, making it possible for the anomaly to see and a few hoses run through the anomaly’s body, leading Miguel to make the educated guess it’s the way it sustains itself. He also notices that this anomaly only has one hand, while the other arm has a clamp at the end.

Just before Miguel lands on the ground, he prepares a trapper-keeper, ready to trap the anomaly to transport it to HQ. The anomaly, however, begins running away from him as soon as it spots him.

“Running already?” he mutters, as he starts chasing it. “Lyla, keep me updated on the Green Goblin, you know how they get with their little explosions.”

“The Green Goblin has moved further away,” Lyla answers, making Miguel groan. “Maybe you should call for backup.”

“No, I got this. Just keep me updated on the Goblin’s movements.”

“Whatever you say, boss.”

Lyla disappears, leaving Miguel to do his job. He runs before he leaps into the air, reaching an incredible height as he heads straight for the anomaly. The anomaly somehow senses his attack as it turns around and meets Miguel with its clamp, clawing at him to prevent any blows. The anomaly’s moves don’t deter Miguel though as he takes hold of the clamp before he pushes the man to the ground.

The anomaly uses his one hand to land a punch on Miguel’s thigh before he swipes one of his long cybernetic legs around Miguel’s lower body, knocking him to the ground. The anomaly runs off to a building, hoisting himself up by perforating the walls with the clamp.

Miguel quickly gets up, chasing after it. He shoots his web, wrapping it around the anomaly’s body and pulling but the anomaly puts up a good fight and ends up sniping the web with the clamp once it reaches the rooftop. Miguel spends ten minutes doing this: almost trapping the anomaly before it gets away.

“The Green Goblin is moving further away but there is no trouble detected. It’s like – it’s just waiting,” Lyla reports, sounding confused with the behavior of the Green Goblin.

“Waiting for what?” Miguel asks, in frustration as the anomaly keeps leaping off buildings.

“I don’t know.”

Miguel scowls, done with this already. In a rage of frustration, he shoots his webs and catches the anomaly in midair before pulling it towards him. Miguel is quick to jump, meeting the anomaly halfway before he delivers a blow to the head. It sends the anomaly crashing on a rooftop with a loud thud.

“You little-” the man says as he starts standing up, but he doesn’t have the opportunity to finish his sentence as Miguel lands on the rooftop and captures it with the trapper-keeper.

“Finally,” Miguel mutters, as he walks over to inspect it but before he even reaches it, he receives a heavy blow to his head, caught by surprise. “Green Goblin,” Miguel says angrily as he turns around.

“Hello, Spider-Man,” the Green Goblin greets him as he hovers in the air with his glider. “You look very different from my own Spider-Man.”

“That’s because you’re not in your universe,” Miguel answers annoyed as he lunges himself at the Goblin.

He knocks the Goblin off the glider, leading to the two of them landing on the rooftop before they begin hand to hand combat. The two men land blows on each other as the captured anomaly tries to break out of the trapper-keeper to no avail. Miguel notices this and it’s at this moment of distraction that the Goblin seizes his opportunity. He pulls out the Goblin trident and aims at Miguel’s hand, hitting his gizmo in the process.

Miguel immediately turns to the Goblin, retrieving his hand. He takes a quick glance at the gizmo before scowling at the Goblin, who’s about to take another swing at Miguel.  Miguel blocks it this time and throws a punch at him, sending him flying. The Goblin lands on the floor, quickly getting up on his feet and like every other Green Goblin in the multiverse, the cunning man pauses for a second, tilting his head as he stares at Miguel with interest. His eyes flicker to the strange device on this Spider-Man’s wrist. He grins behind his green mask before he dashes at Miguel, trident in hand.

Miguel and the Green Goblin continue to fight. Miguel successfully dodges the trident several times, but the Green Goblin only seems to be fueled by this. He swipes at Miguel with the trident, finally slicing his skin under the suit. Miguel winces, pressing his hand to his body briefly, a moment the Green Goblin takes to hit the gizmo again.

“I’ve had enough of you,” Miguel mumbles, as his talons extend.

“That’s a new one,” the Green Goblin comments, referring to the talons, before he jumps off the rooftop.

And of course, Miguel O’Hara never gives up, so he runs after the Green Goblin under the pouring rain. He watches as the anomaly lands on its glider before he flies off, laughing at Miguel. With a scowl, Miguel shoots his web and starts following him, catching up with the anomaly in no time.

“Catch, Spider-Man!” the Green Goblin says pulling out one of its many grenades before he throws it at a building.

Miguel charges towards it, successfully stopping it from detonating but what he doesn’t sense is the Green Goblin coming from behind with his trident. He hits Miguel’s gizmo again with a strength that manages to crack the screen. He swipes at Miguel once more, slicing his skin almost in the same place as earlier before he flies off. Miguel shoots his web to keep himself from falling to the ground.

“Mierda!” Miguel yells as he swings, clutching the same area that was sliced.

He looks down at his gizmo, noticing the crack on it. It should continue working, Miguel thinks to himself, knowing that he and Lyla spent a lot of time making sure the device would be durable. It would take a lot to break it.

And it becomes the Green Goblin’s mission to do so. As Miguel and the anomaly continue their fight through the city, the Green Goblin aims hit after hit on the device, cunningly planning blows as he realizes the Spider-Man before him doesn’t sense his moves like the superhero from his own universe.

“Don’t let him hit the gizmo, Miguel!” Lyla warns, as the Green Goblin makes another swing.

And so, after what feels like an hour of fighting, the green mask man succeeds.

“Migu-” Lyla starts but doesn’t finish.

The gizmo’s screen shatters, and Miguel immediately knows it when he sees the colors of the device fade and Lyla’s holograph disappearing, making Miguel cuss under his breath as he realizes what this means. He needs to catch the Green Goblin soon, before he starts glitching.

The Green Goblin, however, has other plans as he flies off towards a skyscraper. He immediately pulls out more of his grenades, throwing them at the building. Miguel rushes and jumps into the air to try and stop them from detonating and as he works on this, the Green Goblin flies to him, quickly stabbing him with his trident in the stomach. He laughs at Miguel as he twists the trident to add more pain before flying off just as one of the remaining grenades goes off, blowing up a part of the skyscraper. Miguel, who is falling in midair due to the injury, covers his face as debris bursts around him. He feels some of it, glass from the windows, dig into his body causing him to groan in pain.

The adrenaline of it all still allows him to shoot his webs, preventing himself from falling. Except he glitches. For the first time in his life, Miguel experiences firsthand what it feels like to be an anomaly. He feels the shock of it in his body as he’s falling again since his web gave out in the process of glitching. The glitching stops and he tries again, catching himself on time. He lifts himself up onto a rooftop to collect himself, but the pain is there. He looks around quickly, there’s no sight of the Green Goblin. Miguel breathes heavily, the action making pain course through his body. He looks up at the city as he feels blood gush under his suit, where the trident puncture his body.

“Mierda,” Miguel mumbles out of breath, realizing what his situation means. No one knows he’s here. It’s the middle of the night and he’s injured, unable to travel back to his universe because his gizmo is broken. The realization dawns on him.

This might be it.

As the realization hits him, Miguel looks around the city. The rain is going strong, and he can hear sirens in the distance. He must move somewhere else. The tallest building catches his eye right away. He makes one last swing, forcing himself to climb the building despite the pain but thinking that if this is it, he wants to have a nice view. He thankfully doesn’t glitch on his way up, allowing him to make it to the rooftop. He collapses against a wall, next to the building’s door that leads to the rooftop. Miguel stares out into the city as he lays on the ground, clutching his stomach. The adrenaline is wearing off, and he knows it because his body feels weaker now. He begins to feel the pain more as it runs through his body. He can feel blood under his suit, gushing out slowly and his breathing feels more labored now.

Miguel looks at his gizmo again, as if hoping that the device will magically function, but he knows better. There’s no way to return to his universe. He sighs, the action taking more effort than it should as he lets his mask off, wanting his face to feel the rain.

What a way to die. In another universe that isn’t his home. Alone on a rooftop as rain cascades down on him. His hair is damp and it’s sticking to his forehead, but Miguel makes no attempt to fix it. His face – no – his entire body feels cold, which is a strange feeling for Miguel. His body heat has always prevented him from being cold but his body – the one he has pushed to its limits for years now – fails him now.

Miguel tries to ignore it. He tries to focus on the city and the skyscrapers. It’s a lovely sight and he can’t help but remember the day he was here with you many months ago when he assigned you to work with him for the first time. It was daytime and the sight was wonderful. He can’t help but think that you would love the sight even more at night.

As he stares out into the city, he can’t help but also think how ironic this is. Miguel is about to die on Earth-42. The very same universe linked to the whole mess with Miles. It seems so far away now, Miguel thinks. When he was set on preventing Miles from saving his father so he wouldn’t break the canon. It was such a messy situation. He acted in a way he’ll never be able to take back even if everyone else moved on.

Now, here he is. On Earth-42, in a far different city than the one he met when he first ventured into the multiverse. It’s almost like a slap in the face. As if it was meant for him to think of this in his last moments. To see one of his biggest mistakes. 

Miguel sighs again and this time, the action makes him hiss in pain. He can feel the blood. The pain is there but he tries to bear with it. He tries to distract himself.

As Miguel stares at the lights and the skyscrapers, his mind begins to wander off. He thinks of his family and flashes of memories run through his head. He sees his mom, when she was much younger and he was a kid, tending to his scraped knee. He sees her cooking in the kitchen of his childhood home.

He sees Gabriel sitting on his bedroom floor playing with his action figures, the same ones he begged Conchata for. He remembers the evenings they spent together, playing and pretending to be superheroes, not knowing what was in store for them in the future. He recalls the times when Gabriel was still so young and had nightmares. He found no comfort from his father, so he always went to Miguel’s bedroom. There, Miguel would comfort and assure him that it was just a bad dream and that it meant nothing. Despite Miguel’s comforting words, Gabriel always asked if he could stay with him, and Miguel could never say no.

“Gabrielito,” Miguel whispers, as he thinks of his little brother. His childhood face flashes in Miguel’s head before it morphs into Gabriel’s adult face. It was unfair, so unfair. Like any other older sibling, Miguel always thought he would be the first to pass away. He never imagined that it would be his little brother. He never imagined he would be taken away the way he was either. It was so unfair.

And as he thinks of Gabrielito, Miguel remembers a song his brother was very fond of. Surprisingly, the music is so clear in his mind as if it was only yesterday when the two of them drove to hang out with friends. As the older brother, Miguel was obviously the driver and Gabriel sat in the passenger seat, playing music. He remembers the first time Gabriel played it. He asked Miguel to be quiet and to just listen to it. And so, they had. They drove in silence as the instrumental song played, and it felt oddly nostalgic.

Miguel’s breathing slows down as the memories rush through his mind. They switch over to Gabriella. His time with her was short but they made so many memories. He can’t help but feel shame and pain in his chest as he thinks of her. Miguel has strayed away from his religion for some time now, but he hopes that if Heaven is real, that’ll he get to see her again. To hold her one more time. To apologize to her for lying. His wife comes to mind, too, of course, and so does the shame. He fell in love so quickly. His need to have a family blinded him so much, everything was rushed. Miguel can’t help but think now that he would’ve done things differently if he could. He wouldn’t have rushed into things. His wife had deserved better than him. Yet, he thinks fondly of the short time they had. He thinks warmly of the time he had a family even if it’s laced with shame and pain.

He lets his mind take him to those memories, back to those days that are long gone. As his mind is flooded with memories, he doesn’t notice the slowness of his breathing or heart. He doesn’t even feel the coldness of the wet ground or the cold raindrops that run down his beautiful face. He doesn’t notice that he’s staring at the city with half-lidded eyes now.

His mind goes through everything that happened in the last two years, including the fight and the multiverse hunt for Miles, which all lead to the last year. And of course, the last year leads to you. Your face flashes in Miguel’s mind. He thinks of the first time he met you when Jess introduced you. He thinks of the first weeks that you showed up with coffee to meetings before anyone else arrived and how he ignored the gesture. He remembers the day you volunteered to organize his lab thanks to Jess’s comment about the clutter. He sees different days combined into one memory of you chatting with Lyla as you worked, your voice and Lyla’s carrying to him, allowing him to hear bits and pieces.

He thinks of the day he showed up at your apartment and how he hated feeling something, which he now realizes was worry. Everything that has happened with you runs through his mind like a show. He sees your face, looking up at him on Dia de los Muertos, with that look of understanding in your eyes. He sees your arm reaching out to him when you wanted to comfort him. He sees you sitting on his kitchen island, eating the food he cooked on Christmas Eve. He remembers the ornaments and how yours was better than his. He recalls you showing up the next day. You brought cake and it was delicious. He remembers the two of you sat on the kitchen island again to eat, that time joined by Lyla, who asked questions as per usual.

He thinks of New Years Eve. You were invited to Miles’s universe, and you were sent to drop off food again. You stayed for a while once he mentioned that there was a huge firework show after the ball dropped, which meant that you spent the last and first minutes of the year with him in his penthouse.

Miguel’s heart continues to slow down as he thinks of the last year. You’re his friend. And he can’t help but feel disappointed that he’ll never be able to tell you face to face now. He wishes he could thank you. For everything. For the days you dealt with his coldness when he didn’t acknowledge you at all and left your coffee untouched. He briefly thinks about your excuse for taking him coffee. You lied much the same way he had lied about his reasoning for checking in on you that very first day. The day that led to your friendship. As Miguel’s eyelids further close, he thinks of how you’ll never know the truth about that day.

No one will.

Miguel’s heart beats slower and his body is cold as the rain continues to fall on him in the early morning. He listens to the soft pit pat as rain lands on the ground as the seconds tick by.

The same pit pat of rain can be heard on your apartment windows. The sound of it immediately fills your ears when you jolt awake from your sleep. A loud gasp escapes from your lips as you sit up on your bed. You sit, listening to the rain in the darkness of your bedroom as you try to catch your breath.

Your spider senses begin to go off, making you realize that’s what woke you up. You hurriedly jump out of bed and make a straight line to where you keep the two-way radio. You always keep the volume somewhat high during the night in case of emergencies but as you grab it and wait, there’s no feedback. Your eyes flicker to the clock on your nightstand. It’s three in the morning. You hurry to the windows of your apartment, pulling the curtains open to look out. There’s no sight of disturbance. If anything, the city looks at peace under the rain.

There’s not even the sound of traffic. All you can hear is the sound of rain but it’s there again. Your spider senses. Something is not right.

You hurry and get changed into your suit, not knowing what to do. Nothing looks wrong outside but you’re out of your apartment in less than three minutes. You swing from building to building as your eyes inspect the streets below. Your eyes search for anyone who might be in danger or anyone who might cause trouble.

Nothing.

You land on a rooftop to catch your breath. There’s a feeling of dread growing in the pit of your stomach. It’s one you’re all too familiar with as you’ve only ever felt this kind of dread once before. You try not to think of it but it’s impossible not to. The kind of dread that’s spreading through your body is the same kind you felt the day you lost Peter. You felt it spread like poison when you hurried to find Peter in the rubble. The feeling is branded into your mind and as you stand on the rooftop, overlooking the city still searching for trouble, you are overwhelmed by it once again.

You click on your gizmo and open a portal. If nothing is wrong in your universe, maybe there’s trouble somewhere else, you tell yourself. You quickly travel to all your friends’ universes within two minutes. Each time you arrive, you scan your friends’ cities but find nothing amiss. The cities are peaceful. You’re about to open another portal when your senses go off once again.

“What’s happening?” you mutter, as you look around one more time, seeing nothing.

You quickly head to HQ, finding yourself in the cafeteria. You walk through it quickly, feeling even more uneasy at the sight of a usually busy place being vacant of any life. Some of the lights are completely off, leaving pockets of darkness lingering around as you cross the cafeteria. You wonder where you’re even heading as you walk past the large windows of the Spider Society building, noticing the rain and the distant lights of flying cars.

Miguel’s city looks peaceful as well. Nothing seems wrong and yet that dread grows with each step you take, growing and clawing at your chest. Finally paying more attention, you realize you’ve made your way to Miguel’s lab. Perhaps there’s an anomaly threatening the entirety of the multiverse, you try to reason. Maybe that’s why you woke up.

You stand in front of Miguel’s lab and call for Lyla. Despite the uneasiness and dread running through your body, you still find it in yourself to ask for permission to enter his lab. You wait impatiently for the AI assistant to greet you but as the seconds tick by, there’s no sight of Lyla and your emotions intensify. It’s like a sign that something is definitely wrong. You call for Lyla one more time, saying her name louder and with more urgency as if that’ll help. Nothing. You burst into the lab, deciding to be sorry rather than safe.

“Miguel?” you call out, as you hurriedly enter his lab, hoping to find him on his platform surrounded by his many screens like always. “I’m sorry that I entered your lab like that, but Lyla is not responding, and my spider senses are goi-” you say, stopping when your eyes finally land on the platform.

Miguel’s screens are flashing red, not the usual marigold color you’ve grown accustomed to. And even worse yet, Miguel is nowhere in sight. You rush to the platform to get a closer look at the screens. They all read “DISCONNECTED.”

You stare in confusion but realize this must be the reason why Lyla didn’t respond earlier. You call out Miguel’s name again, but you’re met with a deafening silence. You take a deep breath in. Lyla is offline. The screens are flashing red. And Miguel is nowhere to be found.

You hurriedly try to reach Miguel through your gizmo, but your gizmo flashes a message, indicating that the recipient is disconnected. Your dread grows. There’s no way that Miguel would go offline like this. You’re halfway out of HQ when you reach out to Margo, the one person you know who can manage Miguel’s technology. As you head out into Nueva York, you pray for once that Margo is pulling one of her usual all-nighters. As you swing towards Miguel’s penthouse, Margo finally responds.

“Hey – what are you doing up this late? Something wrong?” Margo immediately asks.

You look down at her projected hologram from your gizmo. “Margo. Something is wrong with Miguel’s system. Lyla is offline and so is he. I think – I think something’s wrong. Can you please head to HQ and fix it? I’m on my way to Miguel’s penthouse to see if he’s alright,” you say, the words rushing out of your mouth, full of worry.

“Offline? That’s not – I don’t think Miguel would ever go offline,” Margo responds with a frown. “I’m going now to see what’s going on.”

“I’ll meet you there in a few minutes. Bye,” you say as her hologram disappears.

You quickly find Miguel’s building and swing to it, sticking to the walls. You climb it, until you reach the penthouse and look inside. All the lights are off and there’s no sight of Miguel anywhere. You climb onto the rooftop, immediately clicking on your gizmo to open a portal, pulling the coordinates that were sent to you on Christmas Eve months ago. You hurriedly walk through it, stepping into Miguel’s living room once again.

Your eyes scan the place quickly before you rush up the stairs. With each step you take, you feel that dread grow tenfold. You pray that everything’s fine. That you’ll only have to apologize to Miguel for coming into his home the way you are now. You pray that he’ll be in bed sleeping for once and that this is all some misunderstanding. You open the first door you come across, eyes scanning the room only to realize it’s an office. You open the next door and find a large, luxurious bathroom. The next room is a bedroom, but you immediately realize it’s not the master bedroom, so you rush to the next door, pushing it open. Your heart sinks as you take in the sight.

Miguel’s bedroom is empty, and his bed looks undisturbed, which means he’s not home. You rush back to the first floor before you sprint to the living room, gizmo already opening a portal. You travel back to HQ, popping up at the cafeteria before you rush to the lab, wondering if Margo has been able to fix the problem. All the while, your dread grows. You feel your chest tighten as you think of Miguel and his whereabouts.

You burst into the lab where you find Margo, opening and closing screens with the flick of her wrist. She looks over her shoulder before she continues to work.

“He’s not at home,” you manage to breathe out despite the tightness in your chest.

“This is – not looking good,” Margo says, making you freeze.

“What do you mean it’s not looking good?” you ask, staring at her back as she continues to work. Her words make your anxiety grow.

“Miguel’s gizmo is completely offline, which means… it’s broken. Wherever he is, the gizmo is not working at all,” she says as she opens another screen.

You bring a hand to your face, gripping your lower face as you look around the lab. You feel your breathing speed up while at the same time finding it difficult to even do so.  

“Have you been able to get Lyla back online?” you ask shakily.

“I’m working on it. Just one more step,” Margo says in a rush, noticing your demeanor slowly crumbling apart. “She’s back! Lyla must know what happened.”

It takes a few seconds before Lyla appears and you waste no time.

“Lyla, where is Miguel?” you ask, stepping closer to her.

“Y/N! Miguel is hurt and stranded on Earth-42! There were two anomalies detected and he went out to handle them but one of them broke his gizmo and managed to injure him,” Lyla hurriedly explains the situation.

“Shit,” you mutter, and begin to open a portal. “What were his last coordinates, Lyla?”

“I’ll send them to you, please hurry! I don’t know how badly he was injured, and he must be glitching by now.”

“Inform Jess of what’s happening and see if we can get other members to help. Miguel may have moved from the last coordinates you have. We may need to search the city for him. Margo. Please stay here just in case we need any help with the system. I’ll keep you updated,” you say before you rush into the portal.

Rain pours down on you as you step into Earth-42. You waste no time in looking around at the city and instead run to the ledge of the rooftop. You lunge yourself to the next building, eyes scanning, trying to find any sign of Miguel. Lyla’s hologram appears from your gizmo as you fly to the next building, giving you Miguel’s last known location.

You swing from building to building, moving fast just as you see another portal from your peripheral vision.

“Y/N. Any sign of Miguel?” Jess asks, joining the search.

“Not yet,” you reply as you continue to swing.

“Others will be joining the search. They’re on their way,” Jess replies.

And sure enough, as you swing between buildings, you see multiple portals opening from various rooftops. You feel relief to see others joining and hope that with more people involved, the search won’t last long.

“Alright, everyone. Lyla has sent Miguel’s last location. He’s injured and probably glitching as his gizmo stopped working.”

You hear your colleagues’ replies as you head to the location. You briefly wonder about the anomalies. Were they caught or did they get away? You reach Miguel’s last location and immediately search the rooftop for any signs, but Miguel is nowhere to be seen. You turn when you hear someone else join you. Hobie gives you a nod before he searches the other side of the rooftop.

“Nothing,” he says.

You dash to the other rooftop, looking down at the empty and dark alleyways, hoping to find something.

“This rooftop looks disturbed. Looks like there was some fighting,” Hobie communicates.

You locate him and join him. Others join you and Hobie in inspecting the scene, and sure enough there are signs of fighting but no sign of Miguel anywhere around. You look around, trying to get a feel of where the fighting moved to from this rooftop. You leap to the next rooftop, continuing your search.

“There is no sight of anomalies,” someone says, making you pause. If Miguel’s gizmo isn’t working and this isn’t his universe, surely that would mean that Lyla should be able to detect him as an anomaly in this universe.

You continue to search but call for Lyla, who immediately appears.

“Lyla. If Miguel’s gizmo isn’t working, can’t you detect him as an anomaly in this universe?” you ask her, hoping that she and everyone else including you forgot about this fact and that she’ll be able to pinpoint his exact location, but she shakes her head, giving you a look full of frustration.

“I’ve tried that. Unfortunately, the system failure from earlier has caused some malfunctions in the entire system. I cannot detect any anomalies at all right now. Margo and I are working on it. As soon as we get it running again, I’ll run the test and find him unless you guys find him first.”

You thank her and let her go, hoping that Miguel is found whichever way as long as it’s soon. You continue to move around, lunging from building to building like the other members in search of the founder and commander of the Spider Society. Your heart races as you search, and you pause for a second, trying to calm yourself down. Panicking like this will only interfere with successfully finding him. You pause and take a deep breath. Your spider senses went off earlier and now you’re sure it was for this reason. You try to calm down, hoping that this will allow your senses to come in. You will them to help you right now; to lead you in the right direction.

You don’t allow yourself to think too long about the fact that you sensed this. That you sensed Miguel was in trouble. You ignore it. That will be something to ponder about later, or maybe not, considering you’ll come up with no reasonable explanation. You hope no one questions how you knew either.

You look around the city as rain continues to pour down on you. Since you arrived, the rain has picked up and all you can think about is Miguel on some rooftop, hurt and glitching under the cold rain.

“Where are you, Miguel?” you whisper, as you do a full turn.

Your gaze moves past it, but your eyes quickly return to it. The tallest building in the city is about ten buildings away from you. You stop and look up at it, rain falling on your masked face. Before you know it, you’re running across rooftops, leaping in the air to reach the building. You hear Hobie and Jess scream at you, asking where you’re going, and you reluctantly answer through your gizmo.

“I’m just going to check something,” you reply, as you throw web at the building now, aiding you in reaching the building faster. You feel a strange sensation spread through your chest as you stick to the building and begin to run upwards. You hope you’re right and yet again you wonder what it’ll mean if you are, but you don’t spend too much time thinking about this. All you care about at the end of the day is that Miguel is found and well. You continue to run, lifting yourself up with your web. You use a combination of running and lifting to reach the top of the building, meanwhile you can sense other members far behind joining you.

And why wouldn’t they when they see the speed and determination in your movements. To everyone paying attention, you’re climbing the tallest building in the city as if you know that your distant and serious commander is on that rooftop.

And he is.

You see his slumped figured over a wall and rush with a speed that almost makes it seem like you teleported to him. You are kneeled at his right side almost instantly, eyes scanning his bare face.

You quickly lift your gizmo and inform the others.

“Miguel has been found. He’s on the tallest building’s rooftop,” you say, sounding ragged not only because of the climb but also because of relief that you’ve found him. You notice his chest moving. Breathing. “He’s breathing!” you add, informing your colleagues.

You notice raindrops running down his face and without a second thought, you remove your mask and lay it over his head as an attempt to shield his face. Your worry for Miguel is so strong that you don’t even notice the coldness of the rain on your face or the fact that your hair is getting damp.

You move closer to him now. “Miguel,” you say and tentatively grab his right shoulder. “Miguel, can you hear me?” you ask loudly, hoping he’ll hear you over the pouring rain.

You take in the sight of Miguel, anguish spreading through your body as you try to get a sense of his injuries. His brown hair is wet from the rain, making it stick to his forehead.  His face looks like it has lost some color, which worries you instantly, but you try not to think negatively. Miguel is a strong man, and you know his spider abilities allow him to withhold many injuries. The only thing bothering you is that you don’t know the extent of the injuries he may have. For all you know, they could be serious, which is why you’re careful when you look down at his body, trying to find any sign of injury, but his suit looks intact.

“Miguel,” you say again and this time you cup the right side of his face in your hand, immediately feeling the coldness of his skin even through your suit. Shame rushes through you as you hold his face, feeling like you’re disrespecting him and his boundaries regarding physical touch, but you push past it and call his name again.

And this time, Miguel shifts slightly. His eyes flutter open slowly before they move to you.

“You are here” he mumbles, with his maroon eyes meeting yours.

“Miguel! Yes, we’re here. Don’t worry, we’re taking you back home, okay?” you say softly, reassuring him. “Where are you hurt?” you ask him just as other members finally reach the rooftop.

“I have glass shards in my torso,” he says, closing his eyes. “And a few deep cuts. My gizmo is not working,” he adds softly with eyes still closed, feeling your suited hand cupping his face gently.

You nod though he cannot see you and look down at his gizmo since he mentioned it, noticing for the first time the broken device. You’ve never seen or heard of anyone’s breaking, not even during a gruesome fight since Miguel and Lyla spent a lot of time making sure they were durable in these kinds of scenarios. You wonder how it was possible that it managed to get broken. You shove your thoughts away and remove your hand from Miguel’s face. You quickly remove your gizmo and gently take Miguel’s right arm in your free hand as you’re suddenly surrounded by your colleagues. You slide your gizmo into his free wrist, ensuring that he won’t glitch any more in the meantime before he’s back to Nueva York, so he won’t be in additional pain. You let go of his arm and turn slightly to see who’s made it already.

Miguel opens his eyes when he feels the gizmo around his wrist. He looks at your hands, your wrist now empty. He wants to tell you to take it back or you’ll glitch soon, but Jess begins to talk, giving orders to your colleagues as the second in command, preventing him from warning you.

“We need to get him to HQ immediately,” she says stepping closer. “We’ll need to carry him carefully as we don’t know the extent of the injuries,” she adds looking down at Miguel and you, who remains kneeled at his side. She looks around and calls out some of your colleagues’ names, including yours, to help carry Miguel to HQ.

You and the others immediately get on it. You turn to Miguel and give him an apologetic look though his eyes are closed again before you take his arm. You put all your strength along with Ben Reilly to help Miguel up, but you end up getting replaced by Peter once it becomes apparent that your height difference is an issue. Still, you stand by closely making sure that they don’t hurt him in the process. Someone opens a portal just as Jess gives the order to the other members to search for the anomalies.

You watch as Ben and Peter hold Miguel, walking carefully into the portal. Jess motions for you to go, following closely behind you.

“The infirmary staff is ready to treat him. They should be waiting for us,” Jess says as you step foot back in HQ.

You briefly look around at the infirmary sector before your eyes return to Miguel. Sure enough, infirmary staff approach the three men and before you know it, Miguel is on a stretcher being led away down a long hallway.

A doctor, who you hadn’t noticed before, approaches you and everyone else. You watch as the staff take Miguel away until they enter a room and disappear while Jess and the doctor talk.

“With Miguel hurt, I’ll be handling things until he recovers. That means I’ll have to be away, but you can direct yourself to -” Jess says pausing, looking around before her eyes land on you. “You can direct yourself to her. Y/N,” you hear Jess.

You turn at the mention of your name. You find her, the doctor and Peter looking at you.

“As the second in command, I’ll be taking over for now. Peter, you’ll be my second in command in the meantime. And you,” Jess says nodding at you. “You’ll be my third in command. I need you to stay here and keep us updated on Miguel’s status. You’re also to make sure that his privacy is respected,” she says with a frown. “I doubt anyone will try anything, but I rather be safe than sorry. Make sure no one tries to go in for any reason. If he wants visitors once he’s awake, it’ll be up to him.”

You nod.

“Of course, I’ll keep you updated and make sure no one intrudes on his priva-” you start but stop when you glitch. You cry out as you experience glitching for the first time and nearly lose your balance, but Peter catches you before you fall.

“You’re glitching – where is your gizmo?” Peter asks confused as he holds you, keeping you steady.

You huff in pain and look up as the feeling starts fading away. You meet Peter and Jess’s eyes.

“I gave it to Miguel to prevent him from glitching again in the time it took us to transport him,” you finally say softly, still feeling a little out of breath. You can’t help but think how awful it feels to glitch even in good health, making you wonder what it must have felt like for Miguel while being injured. You sigh softly. “I’ll keep you guys updated. And I’ll make sure Miguel is undisturbed,” you add.

Jess and Peter look at you before the two of them nod.

“I’ll have someone send you a gizmo in a while. For now, put this on to prevent more glitching,” Jess says pulling out a day pass from her pocket. She hands it to you, and you slide it on immediately, thanking her. “Peter and I will be in Miguel’s lab. Margo and Lyla are still trying to fix the system. We need to get it fixed before we find ourselves with multiple anomalies running loose, so we’ll be taking care of that. As I said, someone will deliver a gizmo so you can keep us updated, alright?”

You nod and Jess nods back at you. She stares at you for a few seconds as if she wants to say more but she looks over at Peter, who meets her eyes before he turns to you. He gives you a reassuring smile.

“We’ll get through this. Everything will be alright. Right, Jess?” he says, turning his attention back to Jess as he lets go of you at last, sensing you’re more stable now after glitching.

“Right,” Jess says before she nods at you and gives her thanks to the doctor, who hurries off. Jess, too, departs, heading to the elevator with Ben following behind.

Your gaze moves to the doctor as she walks down the hallway. Your eyes follow her even when you feel Peter’s hand on your shoulder.

“He’ll be okay. Miguel is a strong guy,” he says softly in a reassuring tone, also watching the doctor for a few seconds. He sighs and squeezes your shoulder gently before he departs, following Jess and Ben to the elevator.

You stand alone in the infirmary’s quiet lobby now. You look around to distract yourself. Thankfully you’ve never needed to be here, so you’re not familiar with this floor. You find yourself walking to the windows. It’s still dark out, so you can see the lights on from other buildings and cars in the distance despite the blurriness due to the soft rain. You stare out of the windows for some time, your mind taken up by Miguel and his health.

It's not until you feel a tap on the shoulder that you turn away from the windows. You find Ben Reilly, who offers you a small smile before he hands you a gizmo and a tablet.

“Jess sends this. The gizmo for obvious reasons and the tablet to keep you occupied while you wait,” he says, still giving you a smile.

You take both devices and nod at him, giving him a small smile. “Thank you, Ben. I appreciate it,” you say as you slide on the new gizmo.

Ben nods, staring at you. You hold on to the tablet, looking down at it before Ben breaks the silence. “Pretty crazy, right?”

You look up just as he pushes his hair to the side a bit, and nod before turning to face the windows again. “Yes.”

The two of you stare out the window for a few seconds in silence, watching the rain.

“Miguel will be alright, I think. He’s a buff dude,” Ben says, trying to reassure you. You smile sadly and nod.

You hear Ben pop his fingers next to you. “I must head back now. Jess and Peter needs everyone on board to find those anomalies so – I’ll see you around.”

You turn to face him and thank him again. “Thank you. Please tell Jess and Peter that if they need me to do anything else, to let me know.”

Ben nods as he stands in front of you, giving you another small smile. “Consider it done. By the way, the way you leaped up that building was – very impressive and I mean that in a good way,” he adds.

You nod again, feeling somewhat lighter with Ben’s comment as you’ve learned over the last months that he’s really into dramatic poses and such and you have a feeling he’s trying to lighten up the mood despite the situation. “Thank you, Ben. I appreciate the compliment.”

Ben nods one more time before he starts departing but turns around again, remembering something.

“Oh, I almost forgot. Your mask,” he says walking back to you and pulling your mask from under his hoodie and handing it to you. “It fell when we carried Miguel back here.”

You take it from his hand. You completely forgot about it once you put it over Miguel’s head. You thank him again for his help before he departs, leaving you alone again. You slide the mask into one of your suit’s hidden pockets and hold on to the tablet but don’t boot it up. Instead, you turn your attention back to the windows. You wait patiently there, hoping that someone will come and give you an update, but no one comes. Your mind goes back to what happened tonight and you try to think of an explanation but eventually drop it. You don’t know what happened tonight. You don’t know what led you to sense Miguel’s situation but you’re glad he’s safe now, in his universe and that’s all that matters.

It’s not until almost two hours later that you hear footsteps. You turn around immediately, for once departing from your spot by the windows. Your eyes find the doctor from earlier as she heads your way. She gives you a nod of acknowledgment as she reaches you.

“Mr. O’Hara is stable now. He had multiple glass shards on his torso, many of which were small, so we needed to ensure we didn’t miss any of them to prevent an infection. He also has two large cuts on the left side of his torso and a stab wound in the middle of his abdomen. It was pretty deep, and it will take a few days to fully heal. We know he glitched a few times and it took some toll on his body, so that’s why it’ll make his injuries heal slower, but he’ll recover successfully,” the doctor informs you with a kind voice. “Would you like to see him? He’s still passed out due to the meds, but you can stay in the room with him now.”

You nod immediately. “Yes, please. And thank you for the update. I’ll let the others know right away,” you say, as the two of you walk down the hallway.

You can’t help but feel your heart pound in your chest as you approach the room. The doctor opens the door for you, letting you in.

“Let us know if you need anything,” she says before she closes the door softly, giving you privacy.

The hospital room’s lights are off except for two lamps to the left side of the room and a light behind the hospital bed, where you find Miguel. You carefully walk closer to the bed, your eyes scanning his face under the soft lighting. As you step closer and stand by his side at last, your eyes continue to observe his face. Miguel’s face is relaxed, and you can’t help but think how boyish he looks while sleeping. It’s as if all the worries and threats to the multiverse are nonexistent at this moment.

You notice his hair is dry now, but it’s still pressed to his forehead, giving him a messy look, which just adds to the boyish look. You fight the urge to fix it and instead pull a chair closer to the bed before you take a seat. You remember you need to update everyone, so you send a quick message to Jess, notifying her that Miguel is stable and what the doctor said about his injuries. It takes a few seconds before she replies that she’s relieved to hear the news. She also asks you to let her know when Miguel wakes up.

You sit on your chair near Miguel, listening to his even and slow breathing. You watch his chest gently rise and fall before your eyes trace his face. His face still needs to regain its natural color but he’s alive and he’ll recover. All is well now. For the first time since you woke up, you exhale deeply; releasing pent up emotions now that your very own eyes can confirm that Miguel is safe. Before you know it, you feel tears pooling in your eyes as you stare at Miguel’s sleeping face.

You rest an arm on the chair’s armchair and rest your chin on your hand as you feel the tears run down your face softly. Your lips quiver as you hold a soft sob in the quiet hospital room, unable to stop yourself from crying.

Tonight is the first time in four years that you’ve felt anything remotely close to what you felt the day you lost Peter. The dread that grew with each second as you headed to find him. The tightening of your chest that made it difficult to breathe as you swung from building to building. The feeling that you were going to be too late. Again.

Of course, you know it’s different. Peter had a small window of time that to this day you believe you missed. You felt lucky enough that you were able to say goodbye to him.  Meanwhile, Miguel could’ve probably hung on for a little longer due to his powers and yet, you still felt those same emotions while you searched for him. You continue to cry quietly, letting the tears run freely down your face as you watch over him.

You’re unable to stop yourself from thinking the worst. Sure, you are superheroes but that doesn’t mean you are invisible to danger or death. As your eyes remain on Miguel’s sleeping face, your chest feels heavy at the brief thought of something worse happening to him, making your eyes tear up more. You cry quietly, covering your mouth until you calm down.

You sniffle once your tears slow down and blame it on your lack of sleep and the adrenaline completely leaving your body now. You dry your face and breathe in before exhaling softly. The last thing you want is for someone to see you like this. You check your gizmo, reading the time. It’s past 5:30 A.M. and when you look towards the windows from your spot, you see the first signs of daylight.

Miguel made it to another day.

You turn back to Miguel. He’s still sleeping with his head resting against soft pillows. The sight of Miguel in a hospital gown feels so wrong. It’s still strange to see him in anything other than his suit as you’ve only ever seen him in normal clothes three times: Christmas Eve, Christmas, and New Years Eve. As you watch over him, your eyes land on his arms. It seems that the grey hospital gown is a bit tight as the sleeves hug his large biceps but despite that, he looks relaxed with his arms at his sides, hands curled softly.

You observe his sleeping figure, eyes tracing his arms down to his large hands. Your eyes then flicker to his bare neck and part of his collarbone where you spot a small piece of gauze taped to his skin with medical tape. You wonder just how many of those he has on his torso on top of the large wounds. You sigh deeply as you continue to watch over Miguel, wishing that this hadn’t happened.

You feel a shiver run through your body, feeling slightly cold when the AC turns on. You look at the end of the bed and find a folded blanket. You get up and grab it, laying it over Miguel’s body gently. You bring it up to his neck, making sure to cover his arms which you imagine might get cold. You stand over him, staring at him for a few seconds before you walk to the windows to stretch your legs.

You cross your arms across your chest. It’s still raining, and the sky is beginning to brighten though it remains grey and cloudy because of the weather. You spot more traffic now, too. The city is slowly waking up as you stare out for a few minutes. You turn back around and lean on the windows as you take a quick glance around the room for the first time. The appearance of the room was the last thing on your mind when you first came in and even now you just briefly scan the room. You notice it’s very spacious with a sitting area for visitors to the right of the room when you enter. Across from it, on the other side of the door, there’s a room, which you suspect is the bathroom. You turn to your right now, noticing a screen displayed on the wall, facing Miguel. A TV, you realize before your eyes return to Miguel.

Your eyes flicker to the sitting area for visitors for a moment, making you think of his family. He has none left, like you. You sigh softly, remembering thoughts you used to have before joining the Spider Society. There were many times when you went out on patrols and sat on rooftops, observing the streets below when your mind took you to a depressing place after Peter’s death.

You wondered many times what would happen the day you die. You have no family and you cut ties with friends from your universe. You quit your job, so you didn’t even have colleagues. No one would go look for you if something happened to you. No one would claim you as family.

It was scary and depressing to think of this and so you pushed it away and hoped each time that one day you’d have someone – anyone – in your life. Someone who could say something about you. You hoped that it wouldn’t be so lonely then, at least not the way it felt when you arrived home with cuts and bruises that you had to tend to by yourself after Peter’s death. No longer did you fall into Peter’s arms, who held you for a few seconds before he sat you down to clean and tend to your wounds, comforting you with his gentle voice and touch.

As you stare at Miguel and think about this and the fact that Miguel has no family either, you’re glad that Jess assigned you to do this, though you realize you would’ve requested to do it regardless. The idea of anyone waking up alone in a hospital room depresses you and that feeling only intensifies as you think of Miguel, the man that longed for a family so much he inserted himself in another universe to fulfill that dream when he had a chance.

Only to lose it.

You shake your head softly, still staring at him. You’ve never wished this much for someone to be happy like you’ve done towards Miguel. You hope one day he can move forward. That one day, life will treat this man better. This man that deserves so much more but who has lost so much.

“Gabi,” Miguel mutters softly.

You straighten up and walk over to him, standing by his side. Miguel is still sleeping but his brows are furrowed as he mutters Gabriella’s name again. You stand there, not knowing what to do. Your hands wish to reach for his to comfort him, but you’re still set on respecting his wish of no physical touch, so you settle with placing them near his hand instead.

“Gabi.”

Your eyebrows lower and knit together in sadness as you hear Miguel call for Gabriella again.

“Miguel,” you say softly, not sure it’ll even help. “It’s okay,” you whisper.

“Gabi,” Miguel mutters, moving his head slightly against the pillows.

You watch his face as a heavy feeling overwhelms your chest, wishing you could do more. Miguel grows restless, moving his head more. You notice that his hands also begin to move under the blanket you covered him in. It takes you a few seconds to see that the blanket seems stuck to his hands. You pull the blanket off him gently from your side to see his hand, finding his extended talons stuck to the fabric. You have no other choice but to pull the blanket off him gently, successfully freeing his talons. You look down at them for a second, seeing them for the first time outside of the suit before you return your gaze to Miguel’s face.

“Miguel,” you say. “It’s okay… It’s okay.”

Miguel continues to move restlessly, and you fear that he’ll hurt himself in the process, so you do the one thing you think of. You take his hand softly in your own and squeeze gently, whispering softly that everything is alright. You feel his hand move slightly in yours, causing you to feel one of his talons against your hand. You feel some pain even through your suit, but you push past it and continue to hold his hand, talking to him even though you’re sure he can’t hear you.

You watch helplessly as tears gently begin to roll down Miguel’s face as he continues to call for Gabi.

“Mija.”

You hold his hand in yours as he cries in his sleep, occasionally feeling his talons dig into your skin softly. You softly whisper reassuring words, hoping it will cease his crying as the sight devastates you to your core, but he grows restless, and the heart monitor begins to warn about his heart. You look up, noticing his heart rate is increasing rapidly. You rush to the door and yell for the doctor, full of worry.

/\  /\  /\  /\  /\  /\  /\ _ _ _ _ _ _ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/

Miguel stands in front of his penthouse’s windows, looking out. The sky is a light blue, and the sun is shining brightly, illuminating the entire place. His eyes take in the sight of distant skyscrapers below soft clouds in the sky. Cars fly in the distance. The city is busy as always. He stands there for what feels like minutes watching in silence before it’s broken.

“Hermano.”

Miguel turns around instantly at the sound of his brother’s voice. He finds him standing a few feet away from him.

“Gabrielito?” Miguel says softly, feeling shocked to see him after so long.

Gabriel gives him that smile. That cheeky smile that got him in trouble too many times.

“It’s been a long time, hermano,” Gabriel says before making his way to Miguel, who finds himself meeting Gabriel halfway.

The O’Hara brothers embrace each other in the older brother’s living room. Miguel holds his much smaller brother tightly, not quite believing that this is happening. Gabriel is here.

“It’s been a long time,” Miguel agrees, still hugging his younger brother.

The O’Hara brothers pull back and Miguel can’t help but smile at his younger brother as he takes in the sight of Gabriel’s face. He doesn’t seem older despite the years.

“Miguel – it’s so good to see you again, hermano,” Gabriel says laying a hand on Miguel’s bicep. “Look at you. You look well! Though, do I spot a grey hair from here?” Gabriel teases, making Miguel frown.

“Very funny, Gabriel.”

“You know I’m just playing but if you keep going like this, you’ll start seeing them,” Gabriel warns.

“If I keep going like this?” Miguel asks, his frown deepening.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. Working all day and night. No sleep except for once a week or those random naps you take, which don’t help by the way. Your eating habits. It’s too much on your body, despite being a superhero.”

Miguel doesn’t respond. Gabriel’s face softens.

“Hermano, you can’t keep going like this. It’s painful to watch, you know. You deserve so much more from life, Mig.”

Miguel looks away. “Gabriel – you don’t know the things I’ve done.”

“I do know… and I’m not here to judge you. I could never but I’m worried about you. I’ve been for a long time. Miguel – you have so much life ahead of you. It’s painful to watch you do this to yourself. You deserve to be happy and not waste your life away working day and night because you think that’s all your life is meant for. It’s not. And I’m not the only one who agrees, by the way.”

Miguel turns his face back to Gabriel, raising an eyebrow with curiosity as his younger brother’s words sink in.

“There’s someone that wants to see you,” Gabriel says softly with a gentle smile before he nods behind Miguel.

Miguel turns around, not knowing what to expect but there they are. He finds his wife, who smiles brightly at him and Gabriella, in the arms of his variant, Gabriella’s biological father, standing there. Miguel freezes, feeling a rush of mixed emotions at the sight but it all fades away when Gabriella jumps out of the arms of her biological father and runs to him.

“Daddy! Daddy!”

Miguel feels his heart burst with happiness at the sight of her running to greet him. He drops to his knees and opens his arms wide just as Gabriella runs into him. He instantly wraps his arms around her, unable to believe that he’s holding her again. Gabriella wraps her arms around his neck, happy to see him.

“Mija,” Miguel mumbles as tears pool around his eyes, spilling almost immediately down his face as he holds Gabi close.

“Daddy, it’s okay. Please don’t cry. I’m okay,” Gabi says softly, trying to calm Miguel down but he’s unable to stop the tears and the gentle shaking of his chest as he holds his daughter once again.

“Mija,” he repeats, closing his eyes as he embraces his daughter.

“It’s okay, daddy. Please don’t cry. I hate to see you cry,” Gabi tells him, wrapping her arms tighter around his neck. “I hate seeing you unhappy. You should be happy. You deserve it.”

Miguel shakes his head softly. “Mija… you don’t understand.”

But Gabi pulls back gently, meeting her father’s eyes. “I do. I know everything – and it’s okay. You don’t need to be sorry,” she says gently, sounding much older than she looks.

Miguel’s teary eyes meet his daughter’s as the truth sinks in. Gabi knows. Miguel looks up at his variant, who stands nearby. Miguel clears his throat, feeling shame and guilt as he meets the other Miguel’s eyes. He returns his gaze to Gabi and gives her a hug before he stands up, holding her in his arms. He approaches the other Miguel, looming over him. He gives a quick glance to his wife, who nods at him, as if she knows that he needs to have this discussion first before talking to her.

Miguel looks down at his variant and gives him an apologetic look.

“Miguel – I’m so sorry for – everything,” Miguel begins softly. “I’m sorry for what I did.”

Miguel expects his variant to respond negatively. To tell him off about pretending to be the father of his daughter. For trying to live his life. For not telling the truth to Gabi. For everything else he did that he cannot bear to think about now, but his variant surprises him with a sad smile.

“I know why you did it. I understand it. And I’m not mad…” Miguel’s variant starts, meeting his eyes. “You did something for me that I’ll never be able to repay.”

Miguel furrows his eyebrows in confusion, not expecting this reaction from his variant. He feels Gabi hug him as his variant continues.

“Had you not done what you did – Gabi’s life would’ve been very different those months you spent with her. You know very well what would’ve happened,” his variant continues, alluding to the fact that Gabi turned into an orphan and would’ve been placed in an orphanage had Miguel not stepped in. “For that – I thank you deeply. And of course, for being her father,” he finishes softly, acknowledging that Miguel is Gabi’s father as well.  

Miguel nods slowly, feeling tears again but Gabi swipes them away.

“It’s okay, daddy. You don’t need to cry anymore, right, papá?” Gabi asks, turning to face her biological father, who nods. “We’re all okay here.”

Miguel nods at Gabi, holding her in his arms before he turns to his variant. “Thank you,” he whispers and his variant nods, giving him that same sad smile.

Miguel continues to hold Gabi, feeling like a weight has been taken off his shoulders. For so long he has carried shame and guilt over what he did but his variant and Gabi were forgiving of his actions. “Thank you,” Miguel whispers again, as Gabi holds him tighter, reminding Miguel how it felt to hold his child. Soft tears run down his face even when he turns to his wife who has been watching, waiting.

“I..,” Miguel trails off, not knowing how to continue for he has thought about her and their relationship a lot in the last few months.

He feels a different kind of shame washing over him. The more time passed, the more Miguel realized how differently he wished things had been. He had fallen in love too fast, wanting to fulfill his dream of having a family and he felt like he dragged her into it. He felt like he rushed her into marriage, but his wife meets his eyes with tenderness and nods.

“Miguel…” she says with a sigh. “We both made that decision. You didn’t rush me into anything I didn’t want to, but we did rush into it, didn’t we?” she asks softly with a small smile, taking his hand in hers. “We both wanted a family so badly and perhaps – perhaps we both sensed it would end soon and that’s why we held on to it so badly.”

She holds his hand and squeezes it gently, reassuringly, as she steps closer.

“I love you. And I know you love me, too… but our love was different, wasn’t it?” she asks softly. “Perhaps we could’ve really fallen in love if we had the time…” she continues. “But we didn’t and that’s okay, Miguel. I don’t hold that against you. We both wanted it badly and made the decision, so please stop carrying this guilt, okay? Miguel, por favor, live your life. For our sake,” she says softly, pausing. “Don’t you think it hurts us to see you like this?” she asks, looking at the others. “It’s painful to watch you do this to yourself. You’re so full of life, wasting it all living like this when there’s so many people out there to meet and befriend… to love. You have amazing people by you, don’t be afraid to show them the wonderful man you are.”

Miguel nods softly though the idea alone seems strange. He feels Gabi shift in his arms slightly, looking behind him.

“I just – I don’t know how to do this again. Losing you, all of you, has been too much,” he admits.

“But you haven’t lost us, hermano,” Gabriel says coming from behind, giving him a side hug. Miguel turns to look down at his younger brother again. “We’re always with you. Even if you don’t believe it or sense us, we’re always there. In every mission. In every universe. Every day and sleepless night.”

“You’re just too busy sometimes to sense us, daddy but we watch over you,” Gabi adds with her toothy smile. “We’re with you always. We visit you all the time, which reminds me - I loved my pancakes and the toys you gave me. Papá and I played a match with the new soccer ball you left for me on Dia de los Muertos. Thank you for leaving my favorite candy, too.”

Miguel cries softly and holds Gabi tighter in his arms. “You…” he attempts but is unable to finish his thought about them visiting him that night.

“We’re always with you,” his wife confirms with a smile meeting his eyes but she, too, looks behind him for a second.

He feels Gabi shift again, looking behind him. “She’s calling you,” she says softly.

Miguel dries his face with the sleeves of his shirt. “Who?” he asks, confused.

“You know who,” Gabriel says with a small smile. “You know exactly who. Miguel – you have a long life ahead of you. Make it count,” he whispers. “Leave a legacy that’s far greater than your leadership. Far greater than your duty and work. Live life, hermano. I know it’s not easy and we don’t expect you to move forward overnight but try. Try for us in the beginning until you find it in you to do it for yourself. Just try,” Gabriel says softly.

Miguel nods with tears. “I’ll try, Gabrielito. I’ll try.”

Gabriel smiles. “It’s been great seeing you, Miguelito.”

“Don’t call me that,” Miguel says but he says it with a smile.

“For old time’s sake, hermano,”Gabriel says and wipes his own tears away. “It’s been really great seeing you, but you must return now.”

“Return?” Miguel asks confused, still holding Gabi in his arms.

“You’ve been away too long, daddy. You must go back now. It’ll be alright,” Gabi says with a smile.

Everyone turns to look behind Miguel. He doesn’t know what they keep looking at.

“I don’t want to leave…” Miguel says softly, holding Gabi closer.

“Miguel – you must. It’s not time yet. And she’s calling you,” his wife says.

“Who’s calling me?” he asks.

His wife smiles and shakes her head. “One of the brightest people I’ve ever met, and you don’t see it, do you?”

Miguel stares at his wife before he meets the other two adults’ gazes. He realizes it. He must go. He nods slowly and holds Gabi for a minute longer, closing his eyes. Gabi hugs him tighter.

“There’s nothing to forgive but I know you need to hear it, so I’ll say it. I forgive you…  You’ll always be my dad, no matter what,” she whispers, filling Miguel’s chest with ache and love all at once.

“Mija… Thank you,” Miguel breathes out gently.

He puts Gabi down, smiling down at her. He doesn’t understand it. She looks the same age she was when she passed away, but she sounds so much wiser. Like she knows more than he does. He pats her head softly before he meets his variant’s gaze.

“Thank you again…”

His variant nods, giving him a gentle smile.

Miguel’s eyes turn to his wife, who’s already looking at him. She nods softly.

“We’ll see you when it’s your time,” she says before she takes his hand again, giving it a soft squeeze before releasing it.

Finally, Miguel turns to Gabriel.

“It’ll be alright, hermano. We’ll see you when it’s time. And don’t forget we’re always with you,” he says as Gabi leans on him. Miguel watches his brother pick up Gabriella, holding her in his arms. “It’s time.”

Miguel nods before he gives his brother and Gabriella a hug, wrapping his long arms around them. He pulls his wife into it, too. He ends up offering his hand to his variant, inviting him into the hug. At the end of the day, they were linked. Forever.

His variant accepts his hand and gives him a nod, joining the moment.

They pull apart a few seconds later, giving Miguel space. He stares at them as they stand side by side, his brother still holding Gabi. They smile at him and give him reassuring nods. Miguel nods just as his variant walks closer to him, separating from the group as if to talk with him in private.

“Before you go… I want to tell you that I forgive you. I forgave you a long time ago, really. I thank you for being a father to Gabi, for treating her the way I would’ve and know that in her eyes and mine, you are a father to her. I also want to tell you… that you have a chance, Miguel. Take it,” his variant says softly. “Our lives have never been easy, and you know that, but one thing I learned when I was alive was that sometimes all you need is a small purpose to keep you going,” his variant says briefly looking back at Gabi. “And I don’t mean work, for we both know what that does to us. Find the true purpose. Keep going. Live life. Accept those that wish to be near you,” he says, laying a hand on Miguel’s shoulder. “You’re worthy of it, don’t forget that.”

Miguel nods. “Thank you, Miguel.”

His variant nods, giving him a smile before he returns to the group. Miguel watches them for a few seconds.

“Go on, daddy! You must return now,” Gabi says looking behind him.

“She’s still calling you,” Gabriel adds but Miguel still doesn’t know who is calling him.

Miguel turns around. He’s no longer met with the view of his large windows facing the city, instead all he sees is a warm light. He turns back around.

“I’ll see you again, right?” he asks, quietly.

His family nods.

“Of course, and we’ll be ready for that day when it comes, hermano but that day is not today. For now, just now we’re always with you,” Gabriel says. “And I don’t mean to rush you, but you should really get back now.”

Miguel nods once again and before he leaves, he walks the short distance and gives everyone a last hug, squeezing Gabi and Gabriel tighter. He returns to his spot and nods. It’s time. He waves goodbye before he turns around to face the light. He walks into it, seeing nothing but light and when he looks behind his shoulder, he sees his family wave goodbye one last time. Miguel’s heart aches as he walks away but there’s also a lightness that he hasn’t felt in a long time.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _/\  /\  /\  /\  /\  /\  \/ \/ \/ \/ \/ \/

“It’s okay, Miguel,” you shakily whisper as Miguel mumbles something in his sleep.

You watch him with your tear-stained face after what happened. The last thirty minutes were overwhelming to say the least. You try to forget it for now but you’re unable to put away the worry and stress of what you witnessed. As Miguel mumbles in his sleep again, you release a shaky breath.

Miguel’s heartbeat gave up for a few minutes and all you could do was watch and call his name helplessly as the medical professionals resuscitated him. You stand by his side now, thankful but still on edge as Miguel moves his head slightly.

“It’s alright. Everything is alright,” you whisper as he moves.

You notice his eyebrows furrowing as he mumbles yet something else, but his words are incoherent. You watch as his eyes move under his eyelids before they begin to flutter as if he’s waking up. You hold your breath, as it slowly becomes apparent his eyes are opening. Miguel looks around the hospital room slowly as if trying to figure out where he’s at before they fall on you.

“Y/N…” he whispers softly.

________________________

*Translation for italicized Spanish words:* Mierda - shit Mija - my daughter Hermano - brother Papá - dad Por favor - please Dia de los Muertos - Day of the Death ___

Thank you for reading! I hope you guys enjoyed this part despite the angst. The next part will contain more fluff, promise 🥹 can we just talk about reader giving Miguel her gizmo??? 😭 I don't know why but that made me so sad and that probably sounds stupid since I wrote it but anyway... I still love Miguel ❤️

-Alondra

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[undead-supernova]

It's My Body and It Hates You / Masterlist

plot: memories are resurfacing. you thought that you were getting better. he wasn't haunting you now that you are with eddie. but, fuck, healing is just not that linear.

pairing: boyfriend!Eddie x afab!reader

important notes: this is about healing from previous sexual assault. this is as self-serving as it gets!!! and it can be HIGHLY TRIGGERING for other victims! but i thought maybe if someone else has gone through this before too, they could find comfort in it.

hate that I have to add this but please be respectful of my experiences. I have cowered away from posting this for months, but I think I should be allowed the right to shine a light on these issues and what intimacy looks like post-trauma.

wc: 3.4k

song reference: Everybody Loves You by Charlotte Lawrence (which has helped with my healing so so much over the last few years)

It starts the moment you wake up.

The remembering.

It’s his cerulean eyes you think about first, nearly glossed over with the glare of the morning light. The way it used to, at least. It made everything inside you soften; made everything slow down.

Back in the early days. Back when it didn’t fill you with melancholy. Back when you thought being in love meant to be in constant fear.

Way before you ever met someone like Eddie. Way before you knew that good men existed.

You look over to find Eddie gone already, having promised to help set up for a parade at the local middle school Nancy works at. He’s been teaching some of her students how to play guitar, even going so far as to buy them some cables and help update the sheet music they stashed in a closet.

Eddie’s good like that.

Generous. Observant. Selfless.

And it’s awful, but you wish he’d stayed home. Because something in you is starting to fall apart and it’s not pretty. It’s not palatable like they show on TV.

No, it’s something much more visceral.

It’s been almost four years since it started, since you fell into a not-so-serious relationship with some guy that turned into something sinister.

All of the running around and the secrets kept from your friend group that (not so surprisingly) doesn’t exist anymore. The ones who were so sure you were just obsessed with him. The ones who still talked to him after.

You were supposed to only have sex. That was it.

But, of course, what’s a little sex without his longing glances and soft embrace and sleeping over and early morning kisses? Sweet nothings, cuddles and hand holding?

But, no. He swore it to be friendship, just something casual. Even when he told you three separate times throughout your time together that he wanted something more. But it was fleeting, backtracking a day or two later to say he just wasn’t ready for a relationship. Ghosted you for two weeks, maybe a month at the most. Come back with a few sexts and suddenly you were fucking again. 

No strings, he’d say. We can’t be in a relationship.

So you stayed that way. Kept everything inside the best you could. Stood in the mirror with your lips sewn shut, tears trickling down your cheeks as if every teardrop was another regret. Smiled as much as you could, waiting for him to look away before you allowed yourself to let it falter.

And then there was the sex. That’s all anyone cared about in relationships, right? Not the person, just the body. Just the sexual object, a mere paperweight for the other to use.

The sex hurt from the beginning, his fingers never fitting right. His mouth always just a little bit too rough. But, fuck, it just always seemed to hurt. So you never truly finished, always faking it and finishing in the shower afterwards.

But you loved him. You loved the way he held you afterwards, the way his back shone in the morning light whenever he slept over. The fun little bickering back and forth whenever he was coming down from the dopamine rush. Ordering in and laughing at each other when stealing fries became a full-on wrestling match.

And at some point. 

Well. 

You stopped receiving. 

He’d try to arouse you, but ultimately it was always to please him. He was always too tired afterwards anyways. And though you wanted to stop, you just…did it anyways. You would sit there, reminding yourself that it would stop once you got him off. 

When it ends, it’ll be okay. He’ll stay. He’ll finally tell you he loves you. Just hold on. Just keep doing that and he’ll finish and then you’ll be fine. Just a few more minutes. Just do this. Just do that. 

Just, just, just… 

It’s fine.

Until it didn’t feel fine. Until he berated you one day, saying that the two of you couldn’t have sex every day and that your “friendship” was getting out of hand. That you wanted too much from him even though he was the one who initiated. 

Because, like with your emotions, you’d learned that if you attempted to initiate sex, the answer was no.

And so he yelled. And yelled. And yelled. Until you were sitting on the couch watching one of his lame TV shows and his hand ghosted over to your thigh. Stroked it. Gave you that look. Leaned in. Kissed you. Wrapped his fingers around your jaw and brought you back in unexpectedly.

This happened more times than you like to admit.

When he finally decided to commit, it lasted a month.

And, god, was it was a shitty month.

He introduced you to his mother who really didn’t care enough to ask you any questions about yourself and even made it a point to say that you and her son were very different—almost too different. When you told your friends, they weren’t happy for you. They were confused, even. He never talked about you, so how were you now suddenly dating? 

He never wanted to go on dates, never gave you anything special that he hadn’t stolen. Only called you beautiful between the sheets and told you he loved you in whispers. Even told you that telling him you miss him was manipulation, guilt tripping him into feeling bad for being gone.

So you stopped saying it. Stopped thinking about it. Started telling yourself to be grateful that he was still there.

When he dumped you that final time, on April 1st of all days, you’d laughed hysterically. It was the moment you realized that this was all he’d ever be. All he’d ever do. You saw all the patterns and the seduction and the manipulation and the fucking fucking and knew that this was a vicious cycle that would never end unless you were the one to cut the cord. 

And, well, you’d already snapped.

You thought that everything had been consensual. That you’d wanted it. Even though you didn’t, not one bit. You just wanted him to stay.

But it couldn’t have been rape. No, not at all.

But, like, you didn’t want it and you most definitely felt taken advantage of every single time and he definitely touched you whenever he wanted you to fuck him and get your arousal to distract you and the word coercion definitely sat in your mouth all funny and…

It had to be consensual. 

Right?

For two years, you thought you’d never go near romance again.

When you met Eddie, a friend of a friend, you were so confused by how gentle he was. Always having a smile for you, always telling your friend that he enjoyed your presence. He gave you little presents, like stickers and rocks from conventions and comic book stores. A few amethysts after you told him they were your favorite. Learned your coffee order and your favorite foods.

If you were hanging out, you were playing video games or board games with his friends or laughing or giggling or swapping embarrassing secrets or, or or...

His friends would leak in every now and then, filling up cups and hosting potlucks galore. Steve, Robin, and Nancy made sure to affirm your solidified place in their lives while Gareth, Grant, and Jeff made sure you were a key member in campaigns. 

And Eddie was always there at the end of those nights, washing your dishes and collecting trash just so you could catch some sleep.

It was such a stark contrast from the friend group you’d been in before.

And, fuck, you’d never felt so free.

A few months into your friendship, Eddie made it clear that he had feelings for you. Asked if you were feeling the same way and that he’d fuck off if you told him to. When you laughed and said you kind of liked him back, he asked you out on a proper date, something you hadn’t had before. 

He did that whole thing with the flowers and the tie and the car door and the restaurant door and the chair and the laughter and the nice champagne and the walking you up to your apartment. 

His arms were behind his back, keeping a safe distance. Under the dim flickering light of the hallway, his dark irises met yours. You searched them for any sign of danger.

But they were gentle. Kind. 

Warm.

And you stood there, waiting for him to kiss you or try to come in.

But he didn’t.

He’d said, “Could we do this again?”

You nodded. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

He turned to walk back down the stairs. But you touched his shoulder. 

“Wait, you’re not going to try to come in?”

Eddie merely smiled at you, tugging at the stray hairs leaving his bun. “Oh, uh. That’s not how I want to do things.”

“Really?”

He shook his head, still smiling. “Really. Sorry to disappoint—”

“No!” you exclaimed, maybe a little too loud. “No, I just. Um, no one’s ever— Anyways, it’s not important. I’m sorry. I’d love to go on a second date.”

You sat in bed that night, trying to ward away the nightmares creeping up. Feeling locked in place, feeling scared. Felt it in your arms. Your spine. Your cracked chest.

Feeling terrified that Eddie was just lying. 

Feeling doubtful that this would ever be more than some hookup.

And yet, it became anything but that.

On your sixth date, you finally told him about your ex, trying to explain why you were the way you were. Why you flinched at any casual touch and why the idea of being intimate was scary for you. Why you’d been so hesitant with Eddie in the first place. 

You rambled on and on, from the way you couldn’t even masturbate half of the time to avoiding porn because you flashed back to those moments. The ones where everything always had to hurt. The ones where you had to make yourself into a sex doll just to be seen. Just to have worth that ultimately meant nothing.

It was like your body was stuck, like it was empty and full of cobwebs. It was just the strangest sensation, like your body knew something you didn’t.

“It’s silly, I know,” you’d said. “I don’t know why it’s all still so scary for me. It’s not even a big deal.”

Eddie whispered your name then, hesitantly reaching his fingers out to skim yours. “And you have no idea why you feel this way?” he asked, an eyebrow lifting.

Yours furrowed. Softly, you asked, “What are you trying to say?”

“I think…” Eddie took a deep breath, closing his eyes momentarily before gazing at you again. “Um, I think he raped you.”

He watched your eyes widen then.

And as the waves of grief washed through you that night, Eddie held onto you. His strong arms anchored you to the life you had now, the one you were living in spite of this horror. 

But it didn’t mean any of this made sense. What had you done to deserve this? Where was your fault?

But, fuck, how could you have even known?

And why would that be your fault anyways?

“You don’t need to see this,” you’d sobbed, shaking your head. “I-I—”

You couldn’t even finish your sentence, heaving another sob before his arms tightened around you.

“You’re not alone,” he whispered, kissing your temple. “I’m here, okay?”

“I’m here.”

You cried the first time he made you cum. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he’d cooed. “It’s okay. You’re safe with me, I promise. Let it out.”

You nodded then, taking your tired arms and wrapping them around his neck. Pulled him closer, closer than you’d been with anyone. Hugged him tight. Kept him inside you. Tried to remind yourself that he wasn’t going to walk away. He was here with you. He was present. 

​​Not too long after that, you’d been under him again, breathlessly thanking him.

Eddie had stilled inside you, leaning back to look into your glassy eyes. 

“What for?” he’d asked.

“For being so sweet to me,” you responded, sniffling. “For letting me feel good.”

“Sweetheart, I—” Eddie got choked up on the words, getting teary-eyed himself. “You never have to thank me for making sure you feel good, alright?” You nodded. “I want you to feel good. Always.”

Nodding again, you asked, “Would you…keep going? Please?”

He smiled then, wiping the sides of his eyes. “Yeah,” he breathed. “Anything you want.”

“Thank you,” you’d said, taking his hand in yours. “Thank you.”

After that, Eddie approached things a bit differently.

Even when he was fucking the shit out of you, which you didn’t even know could actually feel good, he was so gentle. Kissed your face after you came two, three times before praising you.

“You did so good, baby. So, so good.”

“So proud of you.”

“You’re so beautiful. I bet you knew that already, though. Absolutely perfect.”

It started to stitch back together something inside you that you didn’t know could be mended.

Somehow, within the last six months, you stopped being able to have sex.

It came out of nowhere—all the flashbacks and panic attacks. The moments of arousal that seem to wash away seconds after it’s felt. Hell, even the thought of masturbation has started to make you sad again.

Your body recoils from that kind of intimacy now, even Eddie’s touch being clouded with the memory of Him. And you’re working on it. You are. Sometimes you have therapy twice a week just to talk about it and undo whatever it is that’s starting to worm its way into your every day life.

Despite it all, you still try doing little things with him so that you can enjoy yourselves, like getting off while lying next to each other. It always ends in giddy laughter and gentle cuddling. Soft kisses and the promise for another round later.

But recently you can’t help but feel like you’re something that weighs him down, keeps him from experiencing true pleasure. That you’re just a tattered and torn tapestry that holds no image anymore.

By the time Eddie gets home that night, you’re on your third glass of wine, silently crying in your shared living room. It’s not the best sight, your white t-shirt gone after you’d spilled the drink while trying to sit down. You’re naked, chest stained with the scarlet liquid from shaky fingers. 

Eddie immediately throws the keys on the counter and rushes over to you. 

“Hey, what happened? What’s going on?” He gently runs his fingers through your hair. “What’s going on, sweetheart?”

You shake your head. “He’s back. In my head. I can’t get him out, Eddie. I can’t get him out.”

“Hey, come here. It’s going to be—”

He tries to wrap his arms around you, but it’s seconds before you’re pushing him away from you. You can’t feel Eddie tonight. No. You only feel Him. That monster, that unforgivable personification of hell.

“Stop! Stop!” you plead. “There’s so much pain. Just so much. I can’t keep doing this. It’s so painful.”

There’s nothing but those cobwebs inside you with little insects scurrying about. Maggots squirming in and out of your flesh. The hands, His hands that disemboweled you from the start, are still clawing at your ribcage. After all, He left you for dead, disgusting and discarded. Poisoned. Tained.

You’re suffering. 

And you don’t suffer beautifully. You’re not draped in silk sheets and clutching your pearls as your trauma washes over you in delicate, smudged mascara tears. No, your naked body shivers with the cold air and sticky spilled wine and your nails are crooked from the biting and the picking. Your eyes are sore and there’s something worse clawing at your throat.

“Baby, hey…” Eddie trails, lightly stroking your arm. “It’s okay. Just breathe for me, okay?”

“No, I’m so fucking done!” you scream, slamming your glass on the coffee table, watching as it cracks. “I can’t fucking believe this stupid thing happened to me and now I can’t do shit during sex and I’m just broken. I’m just fucking broken. And it’s all his fault!”

You choke on a sob, collapsing back onto the carpet. “It’s all his fault,” you whisper, overcome with sorrow.

“Hey, hey. Come here,” Eddie whispers, tentatively pulling you back into his arms. 

“I want this to be over with.” Your voice comes out exasperated. Exhausted. Like even the thought of having to keep going through this is about to do you in. “I just want it to be over.”

“I know.”

“It’s so gross. It’s so gross! I feel so fucking tainted and like I’m full of toxic waste. Like goo, you know? Just fucking oozing with the stuff.”

Eddie simply nods, holding you tighter to his chest. “Did you, like, get triggered? Last time, you said it was that detergent at the store.”

You shake your head. “No, it’s like I woke up being assaulted or something. It’s absolute bullshit. I thought I was done with this. I thought it was over. I thought I’d been to therapy enough that it was letting me get back to having sex and being normal.”

“Ah, come on, sweetheart,” he cooed. “There’s no such thing as being normal, especially after something like that. You know that.” You let out a huff, one of your stubborn ones that leaves a small smile on Eddie’s lips. “Besides, you’re the only one punishing yourself for not being able to have sex right now.”

Sniffling, you look up to meet his eyes. “You’re not mad at me?”

His eyebrows furrow, shaking his head as he continues to smile at you. “Why would I be mad at you, hm? I don’t want to have sex if you’re not feeling it.”

“Oh,” you say simply. “Okay. Yeah.”

Arms tightening, he states, “That’s how it should always be.”

You nod. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“And we have our things we do,” he adds, fiddling with your fingers. “You know, getting off at the same time.”

“You don’t think it’s weird?” you ask.

“Not to get, like, vulgar right now, but I think it’s hot.” That gets a laugh out of you. “I’m really into it ‘cause you’re super into it.”

“I like it,” you agree, the haze starting to dissipate from your vision. “It makes me feel safe and I just…it’s nice.”

“Then we can keep doing that until you’re ready to do anything else, alright?” 

You nod, still trying to clear the fog.

“I know what I signed up for, sweetheart,” he says, giving you a quick squeeze. “I knew it wasn’t going to be easy for you, no matter how much I wish it was.”

“I’m gonna get through this,” you say with a nod. “I know I can do this. I just need some time to figure out how to change what’s happening inside me.”

“See? That’s my girl,” he whispers, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “My strong, beautiful, brave girl.”

“How were the kids?”

It’s dark in your bed, the covers seemingly comfier than they’ve ever been. Eddie has you curled into his arms, hiding you away from the assailants and the monsters of the world. There’s no Him here. For now, you’re resting in the arms of solace. 

“Absolutely terrible,” he says, causing you to chuckle. “But I think they had fun. Nance is good at the teaching thing, bossing the kids around, you know?”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Would you keep talking to me?” you ask. “I want to hear more about your day.”

Eddie trails on, stroking your hair. He tells you about the tiny parade the classes had and how the mini float they made stopped moving halfway through. Steve came just in time to see it break down and they worked together to get it back up and running again. 

He says you would’ve had fun.

Says it’s okay that you weren’t okay enough to come.

Says it’s okay that you’re struggling with this.

“You’re doing your best,” he whispers as your eyes start to get too difficult to open. “And I love you so much. I’m right here with you.”

Love doesn’t come easily after sexual assault. When there’s no one left to trust and the idea of sex is appealing but the follow through fills you with intense anxiety, the thought of a relationship is…tough. It’s easy until it’s hard and it’s hard until it’s easy. It’s like every day comes with something new, whether it be good or bad.

Eddie’s the exception that you never saw coming. And you’re so fucking glad you were able to see the day where you got to meet him. Fall in love with him. Stay with him.

And he tells you one last truth before you fall asleep.

“You aren’t broken, even if you feel like it. Just a little bent, baby. That’s all.”

shout out to @strangergraphics for her dividers...and a big thanks to her for encouraging me to share this when I was giving up.

if you are going through anything like this, know that you're not alone. it's a scary experience and people don't really talk about the way the body is just as affected by trauma as the brain is. healing is not linear and you will get through this.

stay strong.