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bumpkinspice0 · 1 year ago

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Parallels Chapter 8: Not a Monster

Miguel O'Hara x Spider!FemReader

No use of y/n

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 5824

Summary: Miguel is lost in the multiverse and you're the only one that can possibly find him... but how? And what does it mean for your relationship?

Warnings: canon-typical violence, Slight Dubcon (Miguel is full feral but his advances aren't unwanted), ANGST, man pain, some self loathing, it's time to grow up and talk about our feelings... just a little. A/N: Electro is a silly, silly name and I couldn't take it seriously. You have my full permission to laugh at the fight scene.

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AO3

_______________

Chapter 8

Not a Monster

The Tower was practically empty this time of night. Your quick footsteps echo through the massive, vacant building, it was haunting.

You pull at your nanotech suit as you run down the long corridor. You’re still not used to the futuristic material. You had to rush out of your apartment, Lyla claiming there was no time to waste. You left a hastily scribbled note for Gwen and headed to the roof.

A new wave of panic rushes over you as you enter the dark hallway of Miguel’s lab. It felt wrong being here without him. Lyla hovered with you the entire time.

Miguel was missing. What did that even mean?

How the hell can you go missing when your energy signature is constantly tracked throughout all of time and space.

Lyla informed you of the situation as you ran. Miguel had gone after an Electro anomaly yesterday afternoon. He’d tracked it for hours through whatever universe it’d fallen into. It could teleport, making him extremely illusive. The last time they had a clear signal on his location he was engaged in combat then… nothing. He’d disappeared off the map for at least 10 seconds, then— he was everywhere. His signal was scattered to thousands of dimensions, each one indecipherable from being the real one. Lyla couldn’t reach him anymore. If she scanned them all at once she would crash completely, taking hours to reboot. She could only go through a few dozen at a time and her efforts were proving to be fruitless. Valuable time was wasted while she scanned through the multiverse at a snail's pace, so she called you in to help. You still had no idea why she called you of all people.

If Lyla, the all-knowing omnipotent AI, couldn’t find him, how the hell could you?

You walk to the center of Miguel’s laboratory, expecting to see dozens of spiders working tirelessly in front of computers to find him. Instead, you’re met with more silence.

“Lyla, where is everyone?” you ask, completely dumbfounded.

“What do you mean?” She glitches in front of you.

“Miguel’s missing. Don’t we have a team, like… working on this?”

“Not protocol,” she shakes her head, “At least, not for something like this anyway. We don’t want to cause panic. If we can solve this quietly, we will. In such a massive malfunction case like this, the lead duty falls to the architect.”

You furrow your brow, “Who the fuck is the architect?”

“That would be me,” A voice from overhead echoes across the cavernous room. Miguel’s desk platform begins to lower down. On top of it stands a man you’d never seen before. He was tall, tan-skinned, with messy dark hair and a lean build. He wore a set of goggles atop his head and loose-fitting clothes with an obnoxious striped scarf to top it off. You’ll never get 2099 fashion. No, you’d never met him before, but you recognized someone else in his features. That strong jaw, kind eyes, and pouty lips. This was undoubtedly Miguel’s brother, “Gabriel O’Hara. Gabe.”

You jump up to the platform and shake his hand, offering your name as well. “Why am I here, Gabe?”

He lazily raises his eyebrows at you as if annoyed by the question, “You can track Miguel through the multiverse.”

You have to catch yourself from falling on your ass. “Excuse me?”

“I told you to ease her into it!” Lyla blips in front of Gabe, several pixels flaring around her in anger.

“We don’t have time to ease into it. We barely have time for a crash course ,” Gabe waves her off and walks to a computer. With the click of a button, a massive projection takes over the room. Intricate weaving webs of red connecting together. Within the webs, hundreds of white dots are scattered. “One of these…” Gabe points to a white dot, “...is Miguel. The real Miguel. The rest are false readings. I don’t know what that thing did to his watch and we have no way of knowing which one is the real one. It’s like his signature was cloned and thrown around. Lyla said we wanna try do this quietly before we jump to rally the calvary, so that’s why you're here. Your connection with him can make you do that. You can track him.”

Your heart instantly sinks. He was talking a mile a minute to the point you barely understood him, but that last sentence rings in your head like a gong. He knew.

“I told him,” Lyla explains as she materializes in front of you. You wonder briefly if she can read minds, but your dread must have been painted all over your face. “It’s our last chance and I couldn’t just keep important information like this. He’s the only one that knows my system, he would have found out eventually. You could be our only hope if—.”

“I– I don’t understand—” You finally stammer out.

“Look, I don’t know how your bond thing works either but Lyla seems to think it’s the best chance we have. So, whatever you did to get him to...” Gabe’s rambling comes to a slow halt. He must have finally understood what you’re confused, blank stare was about. He sighs into his hand, “He didn’t tell you, did he?”

“Tell me what?!” You blurt.

“That’s why we should have eased her into it!’ Lyla palms her non-existent face.

“Fucking Migs. Tengo que hacer todo por aquí ,” Gabe mumbles as he turns back the control console. “Here. You might as well hear it from the horse's mouth.” A screen illuminates in front of you, Miguel in the center frame. It’s a recording, a timestamp and a date marked across the bottom. You recognize the date— That day after the Goblin Queen attack.

“New developments with the spider-sense connection,” He starts, his voice clinical and monotone. “While the sense was previously thought to be only triggered by close contact of various ranges, this is no longer the case. A response seemed to also be triggered by distress from the opposite party. I felt her while she was in her home dimension. This connection appears to be able to… transcend the multiverse itself.” He takes a moment to breathe into his hands. You share the sentiment. Your spider-sense can travel time and space? There’s just no way. You feel your legs buckle, catching yourself on the nearest chair. Miguel looks back up at the camera, “I went to her dimension last night. I just felt a… pull there. When we fought it was—”

Gabe stops the recording and you feel like you take your first breath since you got here.

The way you’d been feeling since this afternoon… you chalked it up to being too emotional over catching the Fisk’s and having nostalgia because of your great partner. Idiot, you should be able to recognize a spider-sense by now. Then again, if Miguel wasn’t there, what reason would you have to think it was?

A spider-sense that could stretch the multiverse? It didn’t sound possible.

“He’s not in the original dimension he started in, we know that much. We don’t know what was damaged,” Gabe continues, “I know we’re asking a lot but you might be our only option here.”

This was just too much. He says it all like it’s so goddamn easy. It must be an O’Hara trait, you think.

This was something that was so far beyond just you. The leader of Spider Society, the man with the answers to the multiverse’s fate rests in your hands. You want to scream. You want to fall apart and crawl into the closest dark corner and never come out— But you don’t have that luxury right now.

You’re Spider-Woman. You’d done more reckless things on less information dozens of times. Not necessarily a bragging point, but it helped you feel better at the moment. Miguel was out there somewhere. Amongst these thousands of scrambled dots, one was the real him— struggling and alone. You could feel him fighting.

Save Miguel first, yell at him for putting you in this position later.

Lyla materializes in front of you, a gentle expression on her face, “You can do this.”

So… How do you fucking do this? Your spider-sense was never something you actively thought about. It just happened, usually at the most inconvenient times. Maybe that was just it. You were thinking too much— You had to just let it happen. It’s as good a starting point as any.

You swivel to the center of the multiverse projection and take a deep breath, closing your eyes.

Gabe speaks, “What’s she—”

“Shut up!” Lyla instantly silences him in a hushed tone.

Several deep breaths, in through the nose, out through the mouth. You feel the tension in your limbs melt away as the buzzing in your head becomes clearer— it was your guiding light. You’re not sure how to follow it, but if this thing was truly a part of you then it should come naturally… right? Your gut stirs, knowing somewhere out there your spider double needs you. Know that it may only be you that could save him. How poetic, you think.

You squeeze your eyes tighter, recalling those first feelings of the spider-sense. You’d never felt it before yet you knew exactly what it was. On top of that, you knew exactly what caused it. A completely alien sensation to your body yet you knew exactly what it wanted— You just knew. You weren’t naive about it anymore, you weren’t scared of it. You wanted to know its full potential. It was showing you tonight.

It starts like a faint pulse in your ears. A beacon. You open your eyes, taking in the thousands of twinkling white lights amongst the web of the multiverse. One of them is Miguel… the real Miguel. One calls to you.

You stand, walking amongst the projection. You step to the left, the pulsing fades— Colder. You continue to your right, following the rhythmic pull. You picture Miguel, everything about him. His face, his scent, the deep baritone voice— The pulse grows faster.

You recall the way he squeezes your hips when he makes love to you. His touch was always rough but somehow still caring and loving. Ironic how that encapsulates him as a person. A sheep in wolf’s clothing.

You come to a stop, one of the single blips seemingly shining brighter than the rest. Your sense jumps as you reach out for it. This had to be it. You tap the small projection, several screens expand with various information about the mystery universe.

Earth 774-b. A decimated world ravaged by wars long past. Almost no human population. What remained there was rubble, slowly being grown over with moss.

“This it?” Gabe steps to your side, looking over the schematics.

“It’s… what I felt.” You answer.

“Well, we wouldn’t wanna ignore a gut feeling,” He grumbles, jumping off the platform. He motions for you to follow— you do. Several small robots crawl to his aid, carrying various pieces of equipment. He comes to a work desk, rummaging several things out of the drawers, “Your watch, please.” He demands more than asks.

You extend your wrist and he immediately begins tinkering with the interdimensional device. He welds on a small bolt to the side, “This should protect it from any direct electromagnetic attacks. Wouldn’t want a repeat and have 2 missing spider’s on our hands.” He turns to one of the robots, grabbing a backpack it dutifully brought him. He reaches inside, grabbing a second watch, “This is for Miguel when you find him. I suspect his current watch is fried,” He drops it back in and pulls out another device. You recognize it as one of the force field traps, “This is for Electro when you find him. It’s specially made for someone of his abilities. You have 3 of them. Contain him first if you find him.” He hands you the backpack, “There are medical supplies and food and water rations. You have 3 hours before we send in backup. Stay in contact.”

And with that, he hands you the pack and walks back to the monitors. You feel like a kid thrown into the deep end of the pool. You don’t have time to think, you barely have time to breathe. After all your years of superheroing, you think you’d be more used to being treated like a soldier. In a lot of ways, you were still just a kid that got bit by a spider.

You put in the coordinates to Universe 774-b. Lyla appears at your shoulder as the portal bursts to life in front of you.

“If anyone can do this, it’s you.” She assures you. She probably recognized the fear in your eyes. “I’ll be with you the whole time.”

You nod, your mask materializing over your face. You were Spider-Woman. This was just another Tuesday night for you—no big deal. You can do this.

______________

This universe had a distinctive scent you’d never smelled before. Like oil poured over fresh-cut grass. An entire planet that humans hadn’t touched for decades, but their crumbling cities and rusting machines still sat idle. Nature had already overtaken most of what remained in this dystopian New York— You hated it. It could very well be a bleak image of your home city. The thought makes you shutter and you push it to the back of your mind.

It was mid-afternoon. You’d been in the apocalyptic world for nearly an hour now, Lyla leading you to the largest energy signature in the vicinity— Smack dab in the middle of what used to be Time Square. With no technology on the planet, it wasn’t hard to find. Your spider-sense has been a quiet hum the entire time here, surprisingly. You thought it would jump and sing as soon as you entered this dimension but so far it remained tame.

It was starting to feel like a complete gamble on Miguel even being here.

What if your intuition was completely wrong? In the rush, you hadn’t even considered this could be all for nothing. A multiverse spider-sense tracker? Ridiculous. Miguel could have been wrong before. You could have just convinced yourself there was something special about this universe, surrounded by people begging you for an answer.

This could all be for nothing and Miguel could still be lost… or worse.

You push the intrusive thoughts down, not wanting to needlessly distract yourself from the task at hand. You had 2 more hours here and you were going to use them regardless. You were closing in on the energy signature.

You hear it before you see it. Distant electric crackling followed by crumbling bricks. Hope overtakes your growing anxieties. You swing up to the surrounding rooftops and peer down into the crumbling historic square. There in the open center of the towering buildings stood Electro, alone and fuming.

“ Come out! Come out!” He screamed, blasting an electric charge into the withering billboard for Phantom of the Opera. By the looks of the surrounding freshly charred buildings, he’d been at it for a while. “ Come out and fight like a man! ”

He was talking to Miguel. Taunting him… but where was he? Hiding or injured, most likely. You’ll find out soon enough. Even amidst the several revelations, relief washes over you. Miguel was here— somewhere.

You hadn’t seen an Electro like this before. Whereas most wore a green and yellow suit with an obnoxious lightning-decorated cowl, this man didn’t seem to even be completely human anymore. He still wore a skin-tight suit, but it was black. His skin glowed a translucent blue. You could see the energy flowing through him. It surged through his entire being, like blood through veins. He didn’t just have power over electricity— He was electricity. This was a being of pure energy.

That would have been nice to know ahead of time.

He abruptly halts his rampage, cocking his head to the side. Before you can react, a bolt shoots directly at you. It hits the bricks at your feet, sending you tumbling into the square. You catch yourself mid-fall and swing to the opposite end of the street. So much for the element of surprise.

You find a perch on a crumbling billboard a few stories above the square. Electro faces you, searing in anger.

“ You’re not him! ” His electronic voice crackles, “ Where is he?! ”

“Look, dude, I was hoping you could tell me.” The attempted joke is immediately met with another rage-fueled blast of energy. You’re able to dodge this time, swinging down another level. You expect another attack but instead, you see the villain fall to his knees, wheezing and shaking. He was exhausted, who knows how long he’d been at this stupid charade.

A realization hits you. He feeds off energy. It sustains him as well as his powers. There wasn’t anything for him to feed off of in this dead world. He was weaker— Significantly weaker. If there was a time to capture him, it was now. Gabe told you to contain him first before you hunted for Miguel.

You quickly grab one of the traps out of your bag. Not giving him a single second to regain himself, you pounce. You can end this now and find Miguel. Easy as pie.

But of course, it’s never that easy, is it?

You’re almost on him when he vanishes, and you stumble to the now empty ground— Teleportation. Right. He reappears behind you in an instant. He doesn’t hesitate to blast you again at point-blank range.

An electric field engulfs you, surging searing hot pain through every fiber of your being. You drop the trap amidst the chaos. You twist and scream in the field, unable to control your body’s movements. It takes hold of you as you're lifted from the ground by nothing but pure energy.

“ Your suit’s like his,” Electro laughs, “ Makes for a great conductor. Now let’s see that watch. ”

He knew about the multiverse watches too— Great.

You could feel the nanotech waving in and out of existence amongst the static. You desperately reach for the trap, trying to shoot a web or just bring it to your hand by sheer willpower. No such luck.

Even amongst the blinding pain, you felt something. The very thing you’d been praying for since you got here— A buzzing in the back of your head.

It happens in a flash. A rusted car is thrown towards you both, missing you by inches but dispersing Electro’s being into thin air. You drop to your hands and knees, taking in the biggest breath of your life. The remaining energy twitches through you as you stand back on your shaky feet. Your nanotech suit tames down back to its original design.

You look in the direction the car was thrown from— and there he is. Crouched on all fours with a mask drawn over his face.

“Miguel!” You shout, immediately running towards him.

“S-stay back!” He growls, a deep raspiness to his voice. You screech to a halt instantly. He didn’t sound normal.

“ Spider-Man! ” Electro materializes back above the square, arms outstretched. He couldn’t have much juice left. He was putting all he had left into this fight. “ And a Spider-Woman, my lucky day. I’ll kill you both and rip those dimensional travel devices off your cold dead bodies. ”

Miguel pounces immediately, swinging up to the floating menace. So much for making a plan. If Miguel had been stuck in this hellscape for nearly a day, you’re sure he was frustrated. He was lashing out without thinking— and it could be the perfect distraction.

They dance around each other in midair. Miguel effortlessly dodging lightning bolts and Electro weaving between webs. Their efforts were fueled by rage and exhaustion. You take the opportunity to scale the buildings rather than join in the fight.

Webs and brute force meant nothing if he could disappear at will. You had to be smarter than that. He just had to get close and you’d have him. Proximity was all you needed.

You perch yourself 10 stories up, at least half a block from the fight. You pull out your second trap. With how fast they were moving, they’d swing by you any second. As if on queue, you see Miguel’s head snap in your direction. His gaze shoots through you like a spear. You hold up the electric trap and wave your arm in a beckoning motion, you think he gets the message. He swings the fight around, moving directly for you.

Keeping Electro’s focus on him, they swing in front of you. You have a split second to react. Electro’s back to you, you jump. He’s only a dozen or so feet away from you and at a lower angle. You have the advantage.

You arm the device mid-air as you lunge closer. Once directly above him, you release it. The trap locks on to its target and begins webbing glowing red beams around Electro. It entangles him, trapping him inside an impenetrable force field. Trapped, he plummets back to the ground. You swing down to follow, flanked closely by Miguel.

He tumbles to a jarring stop inside the makeshift prison cell.

“ What is— ” He stands, touching the glowing red walls. He’s immediately zapped away from the containment field. Enraged, he attempts to blast through it, only to have the electricity immediately returned and ricochet around the containment cell. He continues to rampage despite the repeated results.

“Lyla,” You say into your watch, setting the coordinates for Spider Tower, “Take him in.”

“Aye, aye,” The AI replies, a portal forming directly beneath the red cage. Electro drops out of reality in an instant.

You turn to Miguel, only to find him several yards away with his back turned to you. His posture isn’t normal, he’s hunched over and twitchy. You can hear him dragging in ragged, growling breaths. He was tired. He’d just been through a traumatic event for all you know.

“Lyla,” You say into your watch again. “Tell Gabe I’ve found Miguel, but just… give us a minute.”

“Don’t be too long,” She responds. Even though she’s artificial, you think you can hear a sense of relief in her voice. The crisis was averted. Miguel was safe— you think.

“Mig?” You step towards him, cautiously reaching out.

“I said,” His head flinches to the side, sleek mask dissipating. “ Stay away! ” He slashes at you, baring his teeth and claws. His fangs, you’d never seen them before. His eyes were completely taken over by crimson red. His features were contorted and angry. He crouches down, resting his weight on his hands. He was trembling— Holding something back.

His power dampeners— oh, you absolute idiot.

Amongst the chaos, you’d all somehow completely forgotten the thing Miguel desperately needed to stay cognitive. The very thing that keeps a side of him at bay. He hadn’t dosed himself in nearly a full day, and the animal was taking hold. He was agitated. Volatile. Your spider-sense rings through you like a warning— or, something else?

This was not the same Miguel you knew.

A glitch shakes through his being. His watch was damaged, unable to regulate his unstable atoms in the alien world. He comes out of the glitch raging, clawing at the surrounding rubble. Anything and everything was his target. He throws more cars, he slashes street lamps in half. So, this is what happens when he doesn’t take his dampeners?

“Miguel!” You scream over the chaos. He halts his rampage, staring you down. Those eyes were absolute daggers. You speak calmly “I have a watch for you. Let’s get you home and get you taken care of. It’s over. It’s gonna be okay.”

“Taken care of,” He repeats. His animalistic voice sends chills down your spine. He stalks toward you, you don’t move. Even hunched over, his height still dwarfs you.

You take out the backup watch and drop your bag to the side. The spider-sense hummed in anticipation. You’re not sure if it’s telling you to run or stand your ground. Regardless, you reach for his arm. Just get the watch on him, and you can go.

He grabs your wrist so quickly you don’t even register the movement. He pulls you against him. You feel yourself shrink in his grasp, and your spider-sense sings. He brings your wrist up to his face, trailing his nose down your arm with a deep inhale. He stops at your neck— you feel his fangs graze the soft flesh there. It sends a wave of heat straight to your core.

Why weren’t you scared right now?

“ Mi añarita. Me encontraste,” He growls against you, sending all your hair on end, “ ¿Has venido a cuidar de mí?”

He brings you down to your shaking knees, crawling on top of you. His massive limbs cage you in. You could easily scurry out of it— away from him, but you don’t want to. You could feel it building as you had dozens of times before. He could take you right here and you’d revel in it.

It takes every fiber of your being to push down your building urges. Not here. Not now— He could be hurt and starving for all you know. You had a mission. Get Miguel home, despite what your selfish desires wanted.

His guard is lowered, distracted by his primal impulse. You were completely on your back while he hovered over you. You take the opportunity to hit the home button on his backup watch, opening a portal directly behind your head. You raise your feet to Miguel’s stomach, kicking him over you into the portal before he can fight back. He needed his meds. You had to get him back now, like it or not.

“Lyla!” You scream into your watch, jumping through the portal as well, “Tell Gabe to get his dampeners ready! He’s on edge and we’re coming in hot.”

You fly through the dimensional wormhole, trailing only feet behind Miguel. He thrashed and spun as he was shot through the fabric of time and space itself. You take advantage of the rolling zero gravity environment and start to web him up, subduing his violent movements. The more he struggled, the worse it got. Simple webs couldn’t hold him for long but they’ll have to do for now. You had to get him back and everything could be taken care of.

You both fly out of the portal, tumbling over each other on the lab floor. Miguel roars as he struggles against the webbing, several strands snapping in the process. He stands, whipping himself around violently, his arms are nearly free.

A small neon green dot flashes across your vision. A dart filled with his dampener serum sinks into his neck. He collapses to the ground instantly. You turn to see Gabe holding a tranquilizer gun.

“Three times the dose with a little bit of sedative,” He places the gun on a nearby table, “Sorry about that, his… condition completely slipped my mind.”

“Yeah, mine too,” You groan, picking yourself up off the floor. You look at Miguel laying there, subdued and face still contorted in anger. You have the urge to wail over the sight. You did this to him. You want to reach out to him, take care of him. He’s in pain and you—

You immediately head for the door, feeling your spider-sense threatening to make your emotions boil over.

“He’ll be up in a few minutes!” Gabe shouts after you.

“Just need some fresh air,” You call back, picking up your pace.

___________

You sit on the walkway outside of his room for nearly an hour. You dangle your feet over the cavernous edge, looking down at the vast multi-hundred-story tower. There wasn’t a single spider inside now. Gabe had left about 20 minutes ago, wishing you a good night and thanking you for your help. You tell him the same and that was that. Miguel’s brother, the architect of spider-kind… You wonder what his background role was the rest of the time. You wonder if you’ll ever see him again.

You don’t know why you haven't gone home yet. You wanted to but… something was keeping you here. You wanted to make sure Miguel was okay, but you couldn’t bring yourself to go in to see him either. You wanted to… but you wanted to give him time. Hell, you needed to give yourself time too.

You felt another urge from the spider-sense tonight. The need to protect. To soothe and subdue. To save your— You were getting too close to him. Too close to all of this, and it scared you.

You wonder if Miguel remembers. If he has any semblance of control when the spider side takes over. He seemed to, if only just barely.

“Hey,” A familiar calming voice pulls you from your thoughts. Miguel stands behind you— The Miguel you knew. The man with kind eyes and rigid posture. The sight of him instantly puts you at ease. “You didn’t come inside.”

“I wanted to but… It felt… It was a lot.”

“Yeah…” He sighs, taking a seat next to you— the understanding is completely mutual, you know that by now. “You saved my life today. I won’t forget it.”

“Don’t mention it,” You look down at your feet like they’re the most interesting thing in the world.

“I mean it. Thank you," he insists. You give him a faint nod and a smile. You want to ask him about it, about the animal inside him. About the spider-sense and why he didn’t tell you about its full capabilities sooner. About his brother, “I’m sorry.” He says instead.

“About what specifically?” you ask, coming off more irritated than you’d like to.

“How about everything?” His words cut through you like a knife. You felt his guilt behind them, “Sorry you had to come here, sorry about Gabe, sorry you had to clean up my mess, sorry you… had to see me like that.”

You could hear the regret in his voice. Miguel O’Hara sincerely apologizing, you should get a camera.

“What happened to start all this?” you ask.

“It was a routine mission,” he starts, “He showed up in a populated area in a separate dimension. I thought it would be a quick grab. I underestimated him… drastically. You saw him, he could disperse his form at will. He could connect to any technology— Any machine. He got into my watch… to Lyla. I had to cut my connection.”

Untold horrors could happen if a desperate villain got a hold of Lyla— a hold of the power of the multiverse. It was a scary thought.

Miguel continues, “He fried my watch’s power by the time we landed. Thought I caught some luck when we landed somewhere he couldn’t recharge.”

“Your signal was copied over a thousand realities,” You inform him.

“He scattered it looking for a way out, sending us both flying through the multiverse. When I cut off my connection, he was booted out of the system.” He clarified, “Didn’t want him to know where the home base was, anyway. Turned out to be a good thing, I think. Didn’t really consider myself at the time. I just had to keep him out. I would have figured something out eventually. I just had to outlast him.”

“Made a lot of work for me,” You grumble, jokingly. You bring your legs to your chest, resting your chin on your knees. “Why didn’t you tell me… That we could do this? Sense across the universe.”

He takes in a heavy breath, running his hand through his fluffy hair, “I thought it was a complete fluke. I thought I felt something and it turned out you were in a fight. Or maybe even a coincidence. Or if it was something, at least it only pertained to me. I’m… different from you. I had a shaky hypothesis. I should have tested it more. I’m sorry.”

Two apologies? You really should get that camera.

“Did you feel me too, tonight? Across the universe?” you ask.

“Not until you were there. My mind wasn’t— I wasn’t—” He looks away, ashamed. You stomp down the urge to reach out and hold him. You don’t want to overstep a boundary. Did you even have those kinds of boundaries with him anymore? “If you ever have to see me like that again, you have my full permission to stop me… By any means necessary.”

“Miguel, it’s—”

“By any means necessary,” he repeats, tension dotting his words.

You could feel his self-loathing in his words. His hatred for this part of him. He was disgusted with himself. What he had done— what you both had almost done. You wanted him so badly in that moment back in the dystopian world, your spider-senses battling each other for it. You felt a little disgusted with yourself too.

The only other person in the multiverse that could understand was sitting right next to you, and you feel like you couldn’t tell him anything.

You wanted to be his friend. You wanted this man to know he could talk to you completely judgment-free— and you knew you had to be the first one to take the step. You couldn’t keep each other at arm's length while still sharing these deeply intimate and personal things together.

You don’t get to have your cake and eat it too. There had to be a compromise. You had to tell him you cared about his wellbeing— if only a little. You needed to.

“I know you don’t feel like you can always rely on people, Miguel,” You begin, feeling his gaze drill into you, “I know you think you have to hold it all together yourself. That’s just part of being a spider… being a hero. But if that were true you wouldn’t have built this place. Even with all the help in the known universe you still think you’re the only one you can count on. Think about that.”

You stand, taking a few steps down the walkway. You take a deep breath before continuing “You’re not just a man but not a monster either, Mig. And you’re not alone. Remember that next time you treat yourself like you're expendable.” A portal to your dimension opens. You pause before stepping through, “I would do everything I did tonight again. I’m glad you’re okay, but don’t scare us like that again. Lyla was worried sick at the thought of never seeing you again.”

And so was I.

His somber expression is the last thing you see before stepping into the multiverse.

__________

Translations: Tengo que hacer todo por aquí.- I have to do everything around here. Mi añarita. Me encontraste. ¿Has venido a cuidar de mí? -My little spider. You found me. Have you come to take care of me?

And as always, let me know if I'm making a complete fool of myself, Spanish speakers! I appreciate anyone who comes in to help out with it!

__________

Taglist:

@ineedgarlicbread @pinkiemme @thesilenthill @bontensbabygirl @fallenangelsongwolf

#miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x spiderwoman!reader #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara smut #parallels fic

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paperstorm · 19 days ago

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Hi,paper storm❤️,I sorry I may write to much...Yesterday I finished watching episode 9. I don't know why I was so sad that I couldn't stop crying. I didn't fall asleep until three o'clock in the morning.

In front of his best friend, TK said that he would choose his brother over Carlos, and Tommy hoped it would never come to that. Although TK may not have meant it that way, in Tommy's context, it was like facing a divorce.

This broke my heart. I swear I'm a man who likes children very much, but I so sad that my partner would choose a child over me.

The last time Carlos was in a gunfight, I thought the atmosphere should have eased, but TK said he wouldn't back down. This time Carlos was almost dead, but TK didn't even show worry or panic in front of us, and there were no scenes of him taking care of Carlos in the hospital. When Carlos saw Campbell surrounded by his wife and children at the bedside, and the way he turned and left just broke my heart.

I just can't figure it out. TK and Carlos have supported each other through so much happiness and hardship. TK may have only met his younger brother a few times, and every time TK saw his younger brother, Carlos was by his side. Why is TK so cold to his husband?

I know that the baby brother is not just a randomly adopted child. He represents TK's love for his mother and Enzo, as well as the redemption of the young TK. He is family. But Carlos is also suffering for his family. Why does Carlos have to suddenly let go of everything, let go of his father's unfulfilled justice and his mother's pain, and just accept "his decision" as a matter of course?

TK should have a good talk with Carlos instead of making a choice between his husband and a child!!

I can understand they quarreled in the last episode because things were too sudden for both TK and Carlos and no one was rational. But knowing that in the next episode TK is still in a cold war with Carlos, and Carlos seems to be alone, trapped in the case of his father's murder and cunning betrayal,which broke my heart.

I know that an episode is only 45 minutes long and can't fit in so many plots. The part about Carlos chasing the murderer for revenge was amazing, and the scenes in the cemetery also made me cry, but there are just too many things missing. Tarlos doesn't have the heart - to - heart talks after every conflict like before.

I know I'm a bit like a selfish person who is jealous of a child destroying their two - person world. The child is cute and innocent, but I've projected too much of my own feelings onto TK and Carlos. I can't accept that suddenly a child comes along and they are no longer each other's dearest.

Some people say that TK's words don't mean divorce or giving up on Carlos, but rather to uphold his position of protecting his younger brother. But in this episode, TK was absent from almost every scene where he should have been by Carlos's side. It's just very hard for me to be convinced and not let my mind wander.

I really hope that in the following plots they can have a good talk about the child issue, and TK can convince me that his feelings for Carlos will work in the future of raising a child. TK can give Carlos a hug, and I can hear them say "I love you" again.

The screenwriter is capable of writing conflicts that I really like, but this time, in what is almost the biggest conflict for Tarlos, there was no time to solve it.

12 episodes are just too rushed.What makes me miserable is that LS is about to end forever, and I've only seen them completely happy in episode7. At other times, they were suffering. The next time I see them will be next year, and there is no Tarlos in episode10.

I don't want either Carlos or TK to be wronged. I'm very anxious about whether they can talk things out in the last two episodes and give us an imagination of "happy forever".

Sorry for showing you so much negative emotion.I just couldn't help but want to talk about it with you.I am so appreciate you read what I said.

I love you very much.Hope you won't be affected by my mood and wish you have a good day.

Hello my dear. I'm so sorry, it's such an awful feeling to be so let down by something you were looking forward to and to feel like you're left searching for answer that we'll never get as to why a character you love was written in a way that feels so out of character. There were some very strange choices made in the storytelling, I agree with that and it really sucks that so many were disappointed in it. We will always have fanfiction to fill in many the gaps left in the show! But I know that's not quite the same thing as getting an emotionally satisfyingly episode that didn't make such odd choices for TK. I hope you're feeling a bit better today 💛

#911ls asks

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onetwothreefarkle · 1 year ago

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I am so sorry but i do have a goomer x ray idea and seeing as you're one of few people who is shipping them I felt like maybe you'd like it. Maybe not tho and if that's the case you can just delete this obviously.

Anyway so like I was listening to seventeen from Heathers the musical and my brain was like de age fic, they're both reverted to how old they were when they first met so now they're (even) stupid(er) teenagers but its like a fresh start. Ray still has powers but no one is expecting him to be captain man until whatever machine is fixed or whichever villain caused this is defeated and the age thing is solved, and Gieux is in the age he was before Frankini, before Sam and Cat, back when his happiness didn't depend on the mercy of other people.

They both get to know each other they way they didn't have a chance to the first time around.

Sorry, I totally forgot to respond to this yesterday!

This is a really cute idea! If you wrote the fic, I'd read it!

#Henry Danger #Goomer x Ray

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justiisms · 9 months ago

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"Since Kaito told me such a wild story yesterday, I want to hear one from you too, Little Koko!" *ichi is as excited as ever as he rests against the side of yuta's bed, a few unread manga scattered around him*

"I'm sure you have lots of amazing adventures, especially since you're a super smart detective! Even if it's something small, I wouldn't mind hearing it! I want to know some of the crazy things you've seen!"

"Hm? A wild story from me?" Yuta looks up from one of the manga books he was reading and towards his uncle in surprise! "E-Ehehe, thank you. Y... Yeah, I guess you could say that. And "crazy" is putting it lightly, frankly. Let's see... oh, I suppose I could tell you some of the amazing abilities I was able to use during cases, thanks to my friends from Chief's Agency assisting me."

"Have I ever told you about Fortes, uncle? They are special abilities that some Master Detectives have. Mine is called Coalescence. Basically, after being given permission by a Forte haver to borrow their ability, I hold their hand to activate that power. For one of my first Kanai Ward cases where we had to solve several locked room mysteries around town, one of my detective partners had an ability where you can literally see the state of a crime scene in the past! It was very helpful in collecting clues and evidence that otherwise would have been gone."

"Then for another case where I was basically like a spy like Uncle Phanty, one of my other partners has an ability where he can disguise himself, and so for us to be able to investigate inside of an all-girl's high school, w-we... disguised ourselves as a high school girl, me, and a teacher; him. It was pretty embarrassing, aha..."

"My third case was probably the craziest of all, with having to defuse bombs in several different areas throughout the city, being chased around by Peacekeepers, and eventually: an entire district literally flooded from the water bank pipes being destroyed! We had to travel through all that with a boat and everything.... and my partner who helped me there, had the ability to rewind time several seconds back, literally!"

"And then when exploring the city's gigantic lab, the one I investigated with has an ability where you can practically turn yourself into a ghost, while your real body sleeps. E-Even for me, it's still so unbelievable when that happened.... but yeah, it really goes to show just how amazing Fortes are, huh? And that I can borrow their abilities if they let me. If using RPG terms, I guess it's like my own special magic power? Ah, and speaking of which... out of all my detective partners and friends, I have one special one who was by my side through it all. She... um...doesn't exactly live where you can easily visit her, but if you two could meet... I know you'd get along wonderfully. She's a big Dragon Quest fan like you are! And while always loves to drive me crazy, I wouldn't replace herself with anything else in the world. She... is the reason I was even able to go on those wild 'adventures' through Kanai Ward like I did. I owe her a lot."

("Aww, Master~!") Blushing, Shinigami brushes up against him, making the Koko chuckle!

Then realizing how long he's been going on, his cheeks turn just the slightest red as he scratches his cheek~ "O-Oh man, sorry, I didn't mean to ramble on so much! I know a lot of this sounds insane, even compared to Kaito's adventures, but it was thanks to everyone helping me, that I was even able to solve such bizarre cases. Nowadays, I do a lot more normal cases ever since leaving that city, which I'm definitely not complaining about. But it'd be nice to see all my friends I met there, again, sometime... Thanks for listening, Uncle Ichiban! I hope I was able to meet your expectations and tell you some exiting things!"

#GOODNESS SORRY THIS GOT SO LONG GFNJF KOKORAMBLING!!!!#HE WANTED TO TELL HIS UNCLE ABOUT ALL THE ~TOTALLY~ NORMAL WAYS HE SOLVED CASES IN KANAI WARD TWAS ALL~#and he just had to mention Shinigami okay~!#WELL: excluding the 'death god that permanently haunts him part' JFNDJDNJ but you know!!! HEHEHEHE.....#Yuta answers;;#Shinigami;;#essenceofjustice

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layanasstories · 2 years ago

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Cause of pain

Part 13

With too little sleep, it was hard to wake up. Jake was still deep asleep when I woke up and carefully crawled out from under his arm off the sofa. I had, to be precise, twenty minutes to get myself ready. It would be over half an hour's walk to the police station. Quickly I had dressed and searched the bathroom for something to wash my face with. Fortunately, I had packed my toothbrush, so I could just do my teeth without any worries. For food I was not so worried, on the way I might get something somewhere. In fifteen minutes I was ready to go outside, but not before saying goodbye.

I crouch down next to the sofa and stroke some hair out of his face "Good morning, I have to hurry or I'll be late." I say softly. With a few groans, he opens his eyes "What time is it?" he asks in a cracking voice. "It's ten to ten-thirty and at eleven I have to be at the police station." I answer him as I brush a few more hairs away from his face. "Should I take you?" he asks, not realising that is not a good plan. "I think that will raise too many questions, don't you?" I have to laugh a little at his sleepy behaviour. Normally, he is always very calculated and knows exactly what can and cannot be done. He turns on his back and rubs his eyes "I think you're right." he sighs deeply "Shit, I have to be there soon too.". "Then I'll see you later." Yes he looks cute like this, and maybe it's a force of habit. But never the less, I lean forward and thoughtlessly place a kiss on his forehead. Only when I walk outside do I realise what I did. With a smile, I scold myself. ‘You were angry, weren't you? A kiss? You stupid!’.

Andrew Morrison is a big burly man, his hair in a short military haircut, tight in a suit and speaks with a deep cordial tone. I imagine many people are intimidated by his appearance. The funny thing is, it doesn't do much for me. He looks a lot like my father when he was alive. And besides, I have a buttoned-up statement. He sat down opposite me at the table in the interrogation room after introducing himself. "It is important for Alan to be here. The cases are intermingled, his missing persons case and my search.". "I understand that." I answer him as Alan enters, with Jake uhm Mark, walking in behind him. "Good morning Layana" Alan greets me. Then Mark steps forward and shakes my hand "Mark Dewinter, we have met yesterday, I'm just here to observe." I nod at him "Yes, I remember." I greet back. I am surprised he looks so fresh, this morning it was a very different picture. Neat in suit, his hair well-groomed and he even shaved. Surely he should tell me his secret to me later, how he managed this in less time than I had.

"I understand that you requested to speak to me." Andrew gets straight to the point. "That's right, I think I can help you with your case." I sit up a little straighter. "Well get started I would say" he leans back in his chair with an expectant attitude. "I am aware of your search for a highly sought-after hacker." I begin. "That's right" is his reply. "I don't know by what name you know him. I assume he uses several aliases, although I think you also know him as Nym-0S." Questioningly, I look at him. "That's right too." he confirms, doubtfully. "Good, then we are talking about the same person." I let out a sigh and continue "Over a year back, I was involved in a missing person case. At first, I was reluctant to get involved. But I was approached by Nym-0S. Of course, it was clear to me that he was suspicious, especially his behaviour. Only with time, we grew closer and I got to know him a lot better.”.

Without too many interruptions, I do my whole story. I tell about Hannah's missing. How desperate the group of friends was, and desperately needed help. That Jake, Nym-0S, had convinced me that I could solve the case and so I stayed to help. In the many weeks we worked together, we grew close and a romance blossomed. I also told them about the hashtag movement, that because of my blinding infatuation I had set up this action. Eventually, my story got to the point where Nym-0S entered the mine. Again, like last night, my story falters. Tears welled up, this time I did nothing to stop them. Crying, I told them how I spent a year worrying whether he was alive. And that yesterday I found out that a body had been found, right at the entrance where Nym-0S went in.

"I am sure that the body you found belongs to Nym-0S. And I would like to see him. So that I can confirm my suspicion." I wipe tears from my face, and sob a little. None of my sadness is fake, all the tears running are from the worry and pain of last year. Andrew is silent for a moment, jotting something down on his notebook. "That's quite a lot." his whole attitude of aloofness has changed a bit. "I think you can help us immensely with this." he rubs his chin a little. "Alan, is it possible for her to see the body?".

#duskwood #duskwood everbyte #duskwood jake #duskwood game #duskwood mc #duskwood jake x mc #duskwood jake x player #duskwood fanfiction #duskwood fandom

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ariweather · 1 year ago

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Chapter 3: Concussed Detective (part 3/4)

Granny Hudson and Watson watched in calm horror as Sherlock's bony face contorted with shock and his curly head SMASHED into the bookcase. His vintage designer shoelaces slithered about in the air as if to say "he deserved this." Books exploded off the shelved and hit the floor with the intensity of thunder. Next thing they knew, Sherlock groaned out, "Uuehaghhhhhhhh... I believe I am concussed."

"You were right about the shoes," Mrs. Hudson remarked to John.

"Yes, perhaps we should buy him a pair of Crocs," John replied, turning to look at his dumbass roommate. "Eh... should we call an ambulance? Sherlock, how do you feel-"

"John, do NOT call the authorities under any circumstances. There are some things in that fridge I'd rather not risk being seen by well-meaning EMTs looking for cold packs. And if Lestrade finds out, that'll just be an annoyance for me. I'll be fine with some home remedies. Just get me some ice, or something. I really must see what cases there are for me to solve-"

Granny Hudson glared at him. "No, Sherlock. You must rest. No more cases for now. You have a concussion, dear! And now you have a lovely flatmate to nurse you back to health! I'll make you a cup of tea, just this once." She departed for the kitchen. Once again, John did not appreciate how Mrs. Hudson seemed to think that he and Sherlock were an item, even though they literally were.

"Thanks." Sherlock stumbled over the mound of literature and onto the soft pleather couch where he laid down, slender legs propped up over the side. John Watson, A Broken Man, carefully sat down in the homely brown armchair in the corner near the couch. He thought to himself, "mmmmmm sandwich."

John watched the snowy dust float silently in the golden sunlight which shone through the yellowed windows. He inhaled. The flat smelled like violin rosin and old books. It sounded like creaky old wooden floorboards and coffee makers. John *almost* felt as though he'd lived in this place for a decade, except that was broken by the presence of the concussed man on the couch. The concussed... person. What did this guy do for a living again?

"Sherlock, who are you? What do you do?"

"What do you think?"

John hesitated for a moment. "I'd say private detective..." He guessed unsurely.

"But?"

"I dunno... maybe you're a forensic scientist actually. What with all the test tubes and whatnot earlier."

Sherlock looked at John like he was a bit stupid. "I'm a consulting detective. Only one in the world. I invented the job."

"What does that mean?"

"It means when the police are out of their depth, which is always, they consult me."

"The police don't consult amateurs."

Sherlock glared at John, offended that his soulmate would think even for a second that he, the great Sherlock Holmes, was an AMATEUR. He had to show poor, mistaken Watson what a real consulting detective was. "When I met you for the first time yesterday, I said, 'Afghanistan or Iraq?' You looked surprised."

"Yes, how did you know?" John's traumatized blue orbs were intently glued to Sherlock.

"I didn't know, I saw. Your haircut, the way you hold yourself, says military. But your conversation as you entered the room..."

"No, hold on Sherlock. No flashbacks right now. I mean, I am curious, but I feel bad making you explain everything to me after you've been concussed."

Mrs. Hudson returned with a mug of british-smelling tea for Sherlock. "Here, darling. Drink up while it's warm!" She smiled, grandmotherly, and handed it to him.

"Thanks mum."

"What."

"Must be the concussion..."

John thought to himself, "mmmmm sandwich." Perhaps his freshly concussed flatmate was hungry. When Watson remembered the sandwich shop they passed on the way in, he offered to Sherlock, "how 'bout I run down to the sandwich shop and pick up some lunch?"

"Ah, thank you. That would be lovely."

"Anything specific you had in mind?"

Sherlock was nicely surprised by his new flatmate's kindness. He was, in fact, hungry, so he gave Watson his go-to sandwich order. "I'll have a black forest ham sandwich, rye bread, topped with tomato slices. If the tomato slices don't have a diameter 6cm, it ruins the whole thing. Also have them layer some extra thin slices of Winnimere cheese in between the ham. Make sure it's spread out evenly. Texture is important. If they have their pickles in stock, ask them to lightly saturate the innards with the pickle juice. And then have them sprinkle a blend of oregano and beetroot flakes onto all of that. And make sure they toast it until it's almost crispy, but not quite all the way crispy. After it's been toasted, I want them to insert 7 evenly spaced slices of fresh iceberg lettuce into the topmost layer of the sandwich above the ham. These must be very thin and spaced at minimum 3cm apart. Finally, dress the top of the bread with freshly squeezed lemon juice from imported Italian lemons. I will be able to taste if they're from, God forbid, Florida before the sandwich even enters my mouth. Oh, and mayo on the side. No less than 16 of those little individual packets."

Lord. Did the God hate John Watson? What did he do to deserve this? What kind of FUCKING PSYCHO orders that. christ. with each new topping listed, a piece of John's remaining mental stability was chipped away. john wanted to boil alive. fucking hellllllllll

"Sherlock...... what?"

"or just ask them for Sherlock's usual order. They'll know."

And then john watson went off to the sandwich shop.

----

Link to previous chapter (chapter 2) Link to next chapter (chapter 4)

#sherlock #The point of this fic is to make the readers lose braincells lmk if it worked

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scottysanchezs · 8 months ago

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Scotty swore to himself, he swore to himself that no matter what he'd never trade his back on Alyssa. His wife, deceased wife. The one he was madly and completely in love with. The Chief swore to himself he would never fall for or fall in love with another women other than Alyssa. Though Alyssa was gone, has been for almost ten years. Has it really been that damn long? It feels like just yesterday that his whole entire World came crashing down and he was losing his mind. Has it really been ten years since the man had a complete and total mental breakdown? Time flies. Since moving to Wilmington, he had met Izabella. Was it on purpose or by accident these two met? His mind always wondered about that thought when he couldn't sleep. Izabella was there to fill the void. The void of something he couldn't replace but has he? Has Scotty been replacing that void all these years? They're been seeing each other on and off for 10 years. That thought alone terrified him. They both have grown, well she's grown and he in all honesty felt stuck. Though the man was lucky to be stuck with her. As the door opened and he saw her standing there, a big smile appeared on his face and the Chief of Police had welcomed him into his home. The sound of her laughter echoed in the foyer and they made their way to the kitchen, Scotty nodded "It felt like a take out kind of night. I wasn't in the mood to cook." Scotty said with all honesty, and pulled her chair at the table out, but before she could sit the man pressed his lips softly to her temple "My day and week in general was slow also. Shitty case, but we cracked it and solved it Friday. Just took a bit." Scotty said, getting everything open and ready "By the way, I think you and I have been getting really good at hiding whatever the hell this is. "

Izabella Ramirez was no stranger to sexual desires. Despite the fact that she'd spent the majority of her life bound to Robby in some way - whether it be emotionally, physically, or legally - there were plenty of moments in between that Izzie had used to her advantage, testing the waters and fulfilling her own needs with partners who's name she hadn't even cared enough to remember their names the next morning. After all, sex was just sex, right? Of course, that was before she'd met Scotty Sanchez right at 10 years ago, and for the second time in Izabella's life, she'd felt like she belonged again. She'd never intended for it to be a thing, for their connection to be so strong but when two lonely heartbroken people meet you can't exactly keep your heart from wanting what it wants can you? The normal greeting escaping Scotty's lips was nothing less than what she expected, and Izzie smiled, letting herself lean forward, pressing a kiss to his cheek in passing before she bypassed him, placing her bag on it's usual spot and her jacket on the back of a chair. "Ooh, splurging on Chinese this time, huh?" she laughed, returning her attention to him once he'd asked how her day was. "It was actually really slow. Which I know sounds silly to complain about given my job, but, you know I prefer it when my days go by faster." she shrugged it off as if to indicate tomorrow was a new day, and maybe more of a work load where that day started too. "And how was yours?" @scottysanchezs

#(everybody has a chapter they don't read out loud: conversations.)#(conversations.)#(izabella ramirez.)#death mention tw

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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years ago

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POWER COUPLE

A/N: i've had this idea stuck on my mind all week so had to write it! also, im not sure if wearing a doctoral title as a lawyer is common in other places but it is in my country so for the sake of the story lets pretend it is everywhere lol

WORD COUNT: 1k

SUMMARY: You're an independent and strong woman and Harry loves that about you. He won't let anyone belittle you by dropping your doctoral title.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

Harry has never met a more confident and independent woman that you. Partially it’s what swept him off his feet when he first met you six years ago, still working on your degree. The way you took no shit from anyone, stepped up for yourself no matter what and could solve any and every problem that way thrown your way, Harry has been admiring you since day one. You never needed anyone to be complete, let alone a man, so he took it as a gift and a privilege that you chose him to be your partner.

He was there by your side when you earned your doctoral title, finishing law school with exceptional grades and on top of your class. He was the first one to welcome you as Dr. Y/N Y/L/N after your graduation and he couldn’t be prouder of the woman you’d become in front of his eyes.

When marriage came up between the two of you, he wasn’t surprised how clear ideas you had about what you wanted and didn’t want.

“Don’t take it personal, but I don’t want to take your last name,” you told him. He remembers it as if it happened yesterday. He proposed to you just a week before that and you were flipping through a wedding magazine as the two of you were chilling on the big orange couch you chose for the living room. At first Harry didn’t think it would fit in the room, but as always, you were right and it’s still one of his favorite furniture in your shared home.

Your leg was across his lap, one of his hands on your knee, the other one holding his phone as he scrolled through some emails.

“I’m not taking it personal,” he smiled and that was the truth. “Just curious why.”

“Because I worked hard for my title and I earned it as Y/N Y/L/N. I want it to be fully mine and I also think it’s a bit outdated for women to take the man’s surname,” you simply reasoned and Harry expected no less from you. A straight and clear answer he could not argue with.

Therefore, when the two of you got married a little less than a year later, no names were changed. However the rest of the world didn’t seem to understand or care for the choice you made, because on a daily basis you get referred to as Y/N Styles. Wrong surname and lack of title.

You always correct others when they call you Y/N Styles and Harry does the same. At this point you’re expecting it whenever you have a public appearance, which doesn’t happen that often. You have your own career and Harry has his own. Whenever he wants you there with him, needs your support you’re more than happy to, but essentially he is the main character in his story. He gives you the same support, as a lawyer you’re fighting to make the world greener, a cause that was always close to your heart and though with Harry’s name you could basically reach the stars, he only interferes with your cases when you ask him to, which doesn’t happen often. You want to reach your goals on your own and work for them as hard as you can.

You’re truly a power couple, though Harry often jokes that you give seventy percent of the power in the relationship.

Tonight is Harry’s night. It’s the Grammy’s and his latest album, Harry’s House was nominated as well as your husband himself for an award and there was no question in him that he wants his wife there with him on the red carpet.

Standing in line, waiting to step out to the carpet you fix Harry’s jacket, he’s wearing a bright yellow set with flower pattern all over, his pants are held up by a vintage belt which has a giant strawberry in the front and of course, he has no shirt on, flashing his chiseled chest to the public. Your dress matches the yellow tone, but it’s definitely not a statement piece, giving him all the attention, though he couldn’t stop raving about how good you look in it when you first showed it to him.

“Nervous?” you ask him with a soft smile, your hand returning to hold his.

“Not when you’re with me,” he answers and your heart still swoons whenever he flirts with you like this, no matter that you’re married.

“Alright, rockstar,” you chuckle.

At the beginning of the carpeted aisle there’s a woman holding up signs with the names of the celebrities entering the line. It’s nothing new, you’re used to it, it helps photographers keep track of who they are shooting currently. However as the two of you step out to the red carpet and take your first pose, you notice what’s written on the little board in the woman’s hands.

Harry Styles and Y/N Styles.

You choose not to comment on it or make a big deal out of it. Tonight is Harry’s night and you wouldn’t take the attention away from him, so you just keep smiling. But Harry spots it too and he doesn’t let it slide.

“H?” you ask when he slips out of your hold and walks over to the woman.

“Does anyone have a pen?” he asks around, the photographers keep shooting the interaction as someone hands him a marker. He asks for the board and with a swift movement he crosses out the Styles surname in your name and replaces it with your real family name, then adds Dr. at the front before handing it back to the woman.

Harry Styles and Dr. Y/N Y/L/N, reads the sign now as Harry returns to by your side as if nothing happened.

“Thank you, baby,” you whisper, giving his waist a gentle squeeze.

“My wife is super cool and smart and a badass lawyer, want to show that off,” he smiles down at you and though you’re not a fan of PDA at public events, you can’t stop yourself from stealing a quick kiss that of course gets photographed a million times in those two seconds by the press.

The moment makes headlines by the morning along with your husband winning every Grammy he was nominated for, strengthening your status as a power couple once again.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb

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riddle-me-ri · 2 years ago

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Please do

A/N: ahaha I need to watch what I say in the tags rip. I reached out to @curleddoobles and asked if it was cool for me to write this request based on their drawing, and they were totally cool with it which made me super excited to get to write this, lol. If you haven’t checked out their art, I highly recommend it, their Eddie is top tier and I live for this small series of Riddler x Various Henchpersons, it gives me so much serotonin and feeds my flirty evasive Eddie addiction I need to be met at least once a week. This is just my general Ed, I can see a handful of Eddie’s doing this lol. This is sorta a mix of how he’s portrayed in the drawings and how I perceive him as a whole. Also sorry this escalated from flirty fun to some actual emotions real quick in the middle rip, I can’t help it I’m down bad for this man.

Trigger Warnings: none, just a bunch of flirting and suggestive language

Word Count: 1.6 k

Riddler x Receptionist F!Reader - Flirting on the Clock

Being the bookie for The Peguin had it’s ups and downs.

The pay was fantastic, you were well protected, and the work wasn’t all that grueling. However, there was still the matter of literal criminals and supervillains walking in and out of the Iceberg Lounge, and you being the first and last person they see each time.

They got to know you, recognize you. Some you wish wouldn’t bat an eye at you (Joker, Killer Croc, and even the Creeper every now and then).

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite book keep. Tell me, just how do you manage to look more gorgeous than you did, yesterday?”

Then there was The Riddler. Edward Nygma, although he always insisted you call him Eddie.

You never minded when he came around. In fact, you often wished the night before to run into him again. Yeah, he was a villain, but at least he was courteous and respectful…and an absolutely shameless flirt. You couldn’t say you minded though.

“Edward, I’m Oswald’s only bookie. And…I honestly don’t know, that may just be one riddle for me to know and you to never figure out.” You shrugged playfully, as you stacked some documents together.

Ed circled around to the side of your desk and propped himself up on the edge of it. Always one to make himself immediately at home. He started to take off his jacket and placed his cane on the other side of your desk.

“Now, Y/N, don’t be silly, you know there isn’t a riddle I can’t solve.” Ed scoffed.

“What if I’m just that beautiful, so gorgeous beyond possible logical parameters?” You giggled.

“That’s not exactly far from the truth.” Ed muttered under his breath.

He held his jacket on his arm, before you slid it off and spread it out on your lap below your desk. Being the receptionist at a lounge with an ice theme did have it’s setbacks, that combined with the dress code calling for skirts, it got pretty chilly.

“I hope you don’t mind, Eddie, it gets quite cold as you can imagine. Any additional layers will help.”

“N-No, not at all.” He just couldn’t figure out why the gesture made his heart have the slightest bit of palpations. Possibly because his brain began plotting of alternative ways to keep you warm.

You smiled at him. “Thanks, Eddie. You’re the best.” You grabbed his bicep and gave it an affectionate squeeze.

“I know.” He smirked, trying to get back into his groove.

“So, what’s the occasion this time? Surely you didn’t just come to see little ol’ me.”

“Is that so hard to believe?”

“Well, that’s never been the case before. Usually when you rogues gather its for some meeting or council or another…and I have seen a few others come in before you.” You informed.

Edward scooted along the edge of your desk, before setting aside some of your stacks of documents and folders further down the other side of your desk. The lanky man began making himself even more comfortable, as he reclined on his side, directly on top of your desk.

“Just who should I be expecting in there, dear?” Ed asked nonchalantly, looking over your work.

“Hmm…well, there’s Oz. Harvey, Jervis, Basil, Jonathan, Victor…Victor Zsasz, and then there’s this other guy..” You dragged on.

“Hm?” Ed quirked an eyebrow and stole a glance from the papers to you.

“Yeah, he’s super smart, brilliant even. A sight for sore eyes, he looks too good for his own good..” You murmured into his ear. You set your elbows on your desk, not far from his torso, and laid your head in the palm of your hand, staring at the enigmatic man.

“Ah, yes, he sounds familiar now.” Ed smirked.

“He also has an unusual habit towards using furniture as anything but it’s actual intended purposes.” You teased.

“Now, now, last I checked I was welcome to do as I please…”

“You’re laying down on a hard wooden desk, surely that can’t be comfortable.” You tilted your head to the side.

“Oh, do you have other alternatives?” He practically purred. He continued to ignore making eye contact with you by flipping through the list of guests Oswald had listed for you that day.

“I-um-well…not exactly here…” You mumbled sheepishly.

Ed chuckled at that. “I was thinking of a bed as well, perhaps another time.”

“H-Hey, you’re not going to bed me that easy, Nygma!” You tried to say defiantly, knowing deep down it actually would have been that easy.

He snickered. “No, no of course not, darling. I would never demean you like that, you deserve nothing short of the best.”

“Eddie…be careful, if I didn’t know better I’d suspect you were actually considering dating me.” You playfully shoved his shoulder.

“I have considered it, many times, actually.” He admitted.

Edward Nygma was a lot of things, but you knew when he was being honest.

“Really?” You leaned over closer to him, looking over the list along with him. Both of you knowing that these names meant nothing to you two in this moment.

“Yes. I have, perhaps, some time?” He glanced back over to you, and your eyes catch his emerald green ones.

“I’d like that, Eddie.” You smiled sweetly, as you leaned into his shoulder for a minute.

Edward smiled back at you.

A minute of comfortable silence hung between you two. Before Ed went and snatched the pen that was tucked in your ear.

“Wha-Ed?”

“Who makes these droll lists? Oswald?”

“Who else?”

“Hmm…do you have a green pen?”

“Are you going to vandalize my documents because you’re bored, again?” You asked. Unbeknownst to Ed, you actually kept all the little scribbles he did when he spoke to you at your desk.

All the question marks, all the doodles of angry penguin faces, sad joker faces, and more angry faces of scarecrows and mad hatters. You kept them all. Especially the one with little question marks and hearts on a post-it note.

Edward responded by holding out his hand, his black gloved fingers rolling and unrolling in a grabbing motion. You rolled your eyes but opened up the drawer under your desk and grabbed his favorite pen.

“You need to start replenishing my pens, I’m going to run out pretty soon.” You joked.

“Oswald doesn’t keep you well stocked?” Edward immediately took to scribbling away on the list. No doubt drawing insulting doodles alongside the name of a fellow rogue.

“Not with pens, I have to get those myself!” You exclaimed.

“Hmm…if that’s the case, I’ll think about it.” He muttered.

“Uh huh…sure…”

“Did I ever tell you about the time Jonathan and I…”

You always did enjoy his stories of his capers. Sometimes they mostly starred him, but every now and then he found himself partnered up with another villain. Often times it was with Jonathan or Jervis, you swear the three of them were the biggest dorks you’ve ever met. Their stories just continued to prove such a statement.

However you found yourself at the edge of your seat every time. You never could imagine yourself getting anymore tangled in Gotham’s underground than what you already were, but you would be teasing yourself if it didn’t absolutely thrill you.

Not to mention, you genuinely just enjoyed listening to Edward’s voice. Theatric, musical, and rich, you were quick to listen to every word. You knew how much this inflated his already incredibly large ego, but you couldn’t help it.

He was just so damn endearing, charming, and a breath of fresh air from all the weirdos and creeps you often dealt with on a regular basis.

“NYGMA! Excuse me for interrupting your little…erm visit, but that desk is not for lounging!” Oswald began waddling his way towards your desk. Edward almost jumped up off the desk at Oswald’s loud shriek.

Ed turned around to face the owner. Immediately he sat up and hopped off in front of your desk. “Last I checked lounge was in the name of your establishment, Oswald.”

Oswald growled annoyed. “Quit flirting with my receptionist! I’m sure she doesn’t need you bothering her with your incessant riddles and obnoxious lack of personal space.”

Edward held his hand to his chest in mock hurt. He looked over to you, “do I annoy you, darling?”

“No! Not at-”

“YES! Yes you do! Come on! The others are waiting!” Oswald grumbled. He got behind the tall man and began pushing him away from your desk, like a stern mother trying to get her disobedient child to leave the playground.

“I’m going, I’m going. Don’t touch me!” Ed snapped.

You couldn’t help but giggle at the display. Sometimes you had to remind yourself these were grown men, criminals even.

You felt fabric slowly slide down your legs.

Oh!

“Eddie! What about your jacket?” You asked, as you stood up from your desk, about to run over to catch up to the two of them.

“Keep it, my dear! I’ll grab it on my way out, stay warm!” He looked over his shoulder at you to give you a wink.

Oswald jumped up and shoved Edward’s face back in the direction they were walking. “Keep walking! She’ll hang on to it for you.”

“Stop. Touching. Me! Oswald!”

“Quit laying on my desks and tables and stop flirting with my receptionist!” Oswald barked back.

You continue to laugh at the exchange as you situated yourself back in your seat. You tucked in the jacket under your legs to keep it from slipping down again. You tried to get back to work, filing some invoices and starting the designs of some more invites to the Iceberg Lounge.

You grabbed the list that Ed insisted on doodling over, but was surprised to not see that many actual doodles on it.

There were however some question marks and hearts around his name, under it was a hastily drawn arrow pointing to a phone number.

#the riddler x reader #edward nygma x reader #the riddler x female reader #edward nygma x female reader #ri writes

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inn-oceanid · 2 years ago

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i was wondering if i could do a request? so you know how gorou was in heizou's hangout event and was kind of annoyed? i read it as he's jealous of the traveller being with heizou. so what if there was some kind of love triangle/ one getting possessive the reader? i dont care which one is the main focus, and nsfw is cool too :)

Jealousy jealousy Shikanoin Heizou x Reader x Gorou warning : contains major spoilers about Shikanoin Heizou’s Hangout. (SFW)

Tysm for this req. I didn’t make it as nsfw bc I’m out of ideas. I hope you like this fluff I made. 😟🖐

“Say, Traveler. Do you have a special connection with General Gorou?”

“What do you mean?” You turned to the detective who was already looking at you.

Detective Shikanoin Heizou, of the Tenryou Commission. You just met him recently, maybe three to four days ago. When you met him, you helped him find the answer to his dream that he had one night at Watatsumi Island. And because of that, you were able to get along with him easily.

“What I mean is, if you’re in a special and established relationship with the General.” He pointed at you with his index finger, then pointed at somewhere, which was nowhere, still, you were certain that he pointed at the direction of Sangonomiya Shrine where you and him last met the General he was talking about.

“Like, if we’re lover or something?” You asked, and he nodded. “—No, why?”

“Was just wondering. You know, as a detective, it’s a force of habit to observe everything and everyone around me. And, four days ago, I couldn’t help but to notice something in him.” He explained in the most enthusiastic way, smiling like a proud detective who finished solving a case.

“And that something is?”

He then smirked and placed both of his hands on his waist, “He surely dislikes my presence. Especially when I’m around you. —Traveler, I know you noticed yesterday. That he had this.. annoyed demeanor he hid with a fake stressed and tired one.”

“I mean yeah, he could possibly be tired.” He then moved his hands to his head, “But I am certain that the lingering annoyance of his, towards me, is far more higher. Hehe.” His eyes were almost closed when he giggled.

“But.. why do you sound happy about it?” You awkwardly asked because, if that was you who was sure someone dislikes your existence, you would probably begin to think what you’ve possibly done wrong in their point of view. You would overthink, not be happy and giggly like him.

“Not to look judgmental, I just find it funny, really.” He let out a quiet chuckle and tilted his head to the side.

“How come you find it funny? I wouldn’t. That’s concerning, I’m concerned for you, and General Gorou.” Indeed you are. You wouldn’t like two friends disliking each other’s existence because of you.

“Awe, you’re concerned for me?” He chuckled once again and leaned in to you. “No wonder why General Gorou likes you. You’re sweet, caring, strong, and all. I already see why he got jealous when he saw you with me.”

Now where did that ‘jealous’ came from? You asked yourself, feeling completely clueless about what he’s saying. Your eyes darted at his face, directly on his moles not so far under his emerald green eyes. You’ve always thought they were pretty. —you stretched your back to create more space so that he wouldn’t be too close to you, not like you’re disgusted, but because you were afraid of something happening. ‘Cause there’s possibilities.

“And to be honest, I would get jealous too. If I saw you with him.” And that comment of his made your knees weak from standing and made you lose balance and stumble from where you stood. Luckily, with how close Heizou was to you, there was enough time for him to catch you by your waist and pull you back to his chest. He also held your hand to pull you close to him, now you look like you’re dancing waltz in Watatsumi Island’s magnificent fairytale-like view.

“Was I too close? Man alive, I got too distracted by your dreamy face. He then laughed light heartedly.

Dreamy face.

Now the face of yours, in which he called dreamy, was burning in embarrassment and fluster. His mouth speaks too light, he sounds like he’s not even shy giving you compliments in such open space, as well as to speak with his face close to yours.

You scrunched your eyes close and furrow your eyebrows, turning your head to look away so that he wouldn’t inspect your furiously blushing face. —Although, he already scanned your face before you could even look away—, the reason why he’s laughing while having his arm around you.

And no, he did not do this mindlessly. His comments about you are pure with sincerity and he would love to shower you more. But he has one reason why he all of the sudden became flirty. It’s because from the side of his eyes, he saw the General standing from not so far away while talking to his subordinates. Who knows what they’re talking about. But Heizou was certain that Gorou is looking at the two of you while sharing speech.

And indeed he was. He’s been looking the whole time.

“General Gorou? Are you alright? Do you feel sick—we can take you back?” His comrades asked in concern but the General didn’t seem to be listening. He was too focused on the sly detective and his arm around around your waist. He truly disliked it. He despise it. He felt salty.

‘Does he wear that Tenryou Commission uniform with that odd way of letting his arms out from his sleeves to show off? Seriously—“

“General? General—?” Suddenly, a hand waved right in front of him, it disturbed his thought and made him snap back to reality.

“S-sorry, what I was saying is, the traveler and Detective Heizou will be looking out for a certain caravan they saw.” Gorou said, exaggerating the name of the detective in disgust.

May Her Excellency forgive him for being this judgmental today, but he just really despises the detective with his everything.

And this is why he won’t ever trust the Tenryou Commission, and it’s people. Ever.

#genshin drabbles #genshin impact #genshin headcanons #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact x reader #genshin scenarios #genshin imagines #genshin impact shikanoin heizou #genshin shikanoin heizou #shikanoin heizou #Heizou #genshin heizou #heizou x reader #heizou fluff #Genshin impact Gorou #genshin gorou #gorou fluff #gorou x reader

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jadepetals · 3 years ago

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so this is part 6 of the fics that i’ve read and have stayed with me for a looong time, hope they make you feel the same way.

Symptoms Of The Culture by @fourdrunksluts / 14612 words

Harry's fraternity has become obsessed with the newest online game, and they'd like to think they're getting pretty good at it. Only, they keep getting killed by The Rogue, an online player who has no connection to the Frat, but seems to have a vendetta against them.

hold onto your stars by vashteneradas / 16258 words

harry's in the army, louis' back home, and ninety days is a lifetime.

24K Magic by @justalittlelouislove / 32654 words

A fic based on 24k Magic by Bruno Mars, in which Harry's a mess and famous, Louis is a mess and not, Liam and Zayn are probably hiding something, and Niall is a horrible flatmate.

On the Edge by @zanniscaramouche / 47040 words

Figure skating is as vital to Louis’ identity as his DNA, so when his skates go missing right before the last Olympics of his career there may be a meltdown only vanilla bath salts can fix. Well, that and the stupidly charming hockey player he met on the plane.

Harry’s too old to be the wonder kid and too young to be taken seriously in the NHL. As an alternate thrown in at the last second, he fights to prove himself on the national team at the largest sporting event known to man. Or he will, once he gets off this flight and can focus on something other than the fussy figure skater and his stunningly blue eyes.

A baggage mix-up skews both of their perfectly laid plans for gold, forcing the two to work together as the clock clicks towards the minute they’re expected to shine on centre ice.

yesterday came suddenly by @falsegoodnight / 48504 words

Harry, the deadliest member of the NYC assassins’ guild, is forced to face a seemingly impossible task in hopes of finally leaving the underground behind for good, but when ghosts from the past come back to haunt him, escaping the darkness becomes that much harder.

A Certain Satisfaction by @eeveelou and @creamcoffeelou / 51659 words

The porn au where Louis is a university student who needs money and runs across an ad that sounds too good to be true.

Lunar Waltz by @outropeace / 56795 words

Louis has to replace his (missing) twin brother and marry one of the most dangerous alphas of the kingdom.

When Darkness Strikes by he_wants_to_write / 58766 words

Private Investigator Harry Styles is called to help solve a brutal homicide case in a small town by the North of England. There, he stumbles upon Detective Louis Tomlinson, and although their personalities crash and dark mysteries haunt their circumstances, the pair does have one thing in common; the will to catch the responsible behind the murder.

Caught In Your Gravity by @lululawrence / 62699 words

It felt like the blood froze in Harry’s veins even as he got a bit lightheaded. He hadn’t even made it two practices, only one of which he was remotely in charge of, without giving it all away and now he and Liam were both absolutely fucked.

“Shit,” Harry breathed out. “Who all have you told? Does everyone know? I thought I covered it better than that…”

“No, no,” Louis said quickly. "They’ll figure it out soon enough, though, because they’ll get used to you changing things up, but you’re only going to trip over your so called Americanisms for so long before they realize it’s because you don’t actually know fuck all about football.”

Harry sighed. “Yeah. I figured. I just need to bullshit for long enough to allow Liam to get the situation figured out from his end.”

“Right, which brings me to my entire point. I think we can find a mutually beneficial arrangement with all of this.” Louis leaned forward. “You need to learn the ins and outs of the sport incredibly fast. I can help you with that.”

“What do you want in exchange?”

Mead Of Poetry by @lwtisloved / 65112 words

A Regency ABO AU very loosely inspired by the second book of the Bridgerton series.

Little by Little by @absoloutenonsense / 65589 words

Harry Styles is an omega who works at the London Planetarium, has lived in the same flat for ages, and is happy enough on his own. When he gets home from his first (horrible) attempt at dating in years, a new pregnant neighbor knocks on his door after smelling his cooking. He and Louis quickly become close, but their friendship gets complicated when Harry begins questioning who he is and what he likes.

Little Technicolor Things by @scary-crow / 72093 words

Louis is a poor writer and recent university graduate, depressed, anxious, and living in London when he meets Harry, an artist with a secret who likes to paint sunrises and pretty boys from California.

Remember Me Fondly by @bluejeanlouis / 73659 words

Grunge legends Fearless Doe topped the rock charts in the ‘90s, but they spent the decade kicking Smudge off their heels. From lawsuits to jaw-dropping scandals and a surprising joint world tour, the two bands share a complicated history.Twenty-five years later, frontmen Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles are finally ready to sit down and tell the world their two sides of the same story.Truth may vary.

and i'm weeping warm honey and milk (that you stay surrounding me) by @wooltobravetheseasons / 78028 words

Louis is a first-year medical student, still a little tender as he recovers from a personal trauma. Harry works, amongst other things, as a professional cuddler, though he comes with baggage of his own. They don’t mean it to, but the intimacy that blooms between them quietly changes them both.

Emperor's New Clothes by @magicalrocketships / 92072 words

Harry’s a pop star and Louis isn’t, and there’s a non-disclosure agreement where there used to be a relationship.

Tired Tired Sea by MediaWhore /111303 words

As a B&B owner on the most remote of all the British Isles, Louis Tomlinson is used to spending the coldest half of the year in complete isolation, with his dog and the sea as sole companions. Until, one day, a mysterious stranger on a quest to rebuild himself rents a room for the winter.

Lightning Strikes The Heart by @fournipplesau and @justalarryblog / 130198 words

Shrewsbury, 1814

Dearest reader, I present to you your new bulletin of news regarding Shrewsbury citizen's activities. My name is Lady Merriweather and I will be in charge of the updates. I will make sure you are to know all the important details of what is to happen this season. You must know that you do not know who I am and you never shall. But be forewarned; I certainly do know you. I advise you to be on your best behaviour, lest you want the whole town to be privy of your business.

As expected every year, the Lockhart House hosts the season’s opening ball, and its invitation is the motive of the hustle in town, and every family hopes for the invitation. This year is no different, but this year everyone's attention is focused on the new Duke of Montgomery, His Grace Harry Edward Styles, and whether he will attend it.

All the omegas will be in their best manner, behaviour and clothes as it is expected. And here, dear reader is where we will find out which young omega might succeed at securing a match, hoping to not become a spinster.

Place your bets.

Love After the End of the World by @mercurial-madhouse / 162533 words

Society shattered when all electricity suddenly cut off across the globe, plunging the world into darkness. Now, Prometheus Industries is the sole remaining supply of power, a saving grace to those who survived Lights Out. As fugitives in no-man’s land struggling to break into Prometheus HQ, death lurks around every corner for Louis and Zayn. Things get complicated when a routine recon falls apart and Louis collides with Harry and his mates Niall and Liam, survivors with their own agenda. When staying alive is already a constant battle, the deadliest weakness is to be in love. For Harry and Louis, finding each other sits on top of the endless list of What Else Could Go Wrong.

second-hand emotion by @wadey-wilson / 183794 words

Louis is a twenty-three years old, soon-to-be Columbia University graduate with a loving boyfriend, wonderful friends, two kinds of reputations, and a suit so tight it’s nigh inappropriate. Harry is a twenty-three AWOL.

When you lose all that matters, love becomes an impossible achievement. Ergo, it’s only logical to fall for someone who can never die.

Allies in Heaven, Comrades in Hell / 265915 words (this fic was deleted but feel free to message me if you want a copy!)

Catholic school! AU where Louis is finishing sixth form and will definitely be famous someday if Harry has something to say about it, Liam is the racist homophobe that Zayn is dreadfully in love with, and Niall teaches guitar.

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6

#self indulgent i just wanna be able to find them fast #larry fic rec #fic rec list #larry #fic rec #larry stylinson #28th appreciation #lol haven't done one of these in a while

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wri0thesley · 4 years ago

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A Well Rounded Education (1): Suspension (Fem!Reader x Toji Fushiguro, 5k)

series synopsis: You are a teacher’s aid to teacher Gojo Satoru, training to be able to take over your own class next year by shadowing and helping him out. Gojo does not make things easy for anybody.

chapter synopsis: One of your favourite students has been suspended for fighting, and Gojo has palmed off the meeting with his guardian to go through all of the paperwork and facts and conditions on you. “Don’t worry,” Gojo says. “It’ll be Megumi’s sister, she always takes care of this kind of stuff!”. Gojo is wrong.

NSFW. AFAB reader, fem pronouns. dom/sub dynamics, light fearplay and predator/prey elements. piv sex.

(a well rounded education m.list and navigation)

“I’ve got all these other parents to deal with,” Gojo whines at you, pushing the papers into your hands. “And I hate paperwork, and I don’t have time to meet with Megumi’s family today – hell, if it were up to me, the kid wouldn’t even be suspended! Those guys had it coming!”

Gojo is not a very good teacher. Both of you know that – no matter how justified – violence never solves violence. Gojo, you think, would let these kids fight it out in an arena instead of solving things like an adult. You heave a large sigh as you look down at the papers detailing Megumi Fushiguro’s three-day suspension for fighting during school hours.

You’d seen Megumi before he’d gone home. He hadn’t had so much as a scratch on him; his face set in a frown, his arms crossed, his eyes downcast. You’d sighed at him and asked him if he was alright, and he’d shrugged.

He’s not a very talkative boy at the best of times, and you suppose that the suspension and the fight and the mini uproar it had caused in the school aren’t helping be any more verbose. You’d said goodbye to him and said that you hoped he thought about what had transpired today, your heart aching a little bit that you couldn’t be any more help to him.

You’d seen the three boys Megumi had got into a fight with, too. They had not gotten off so scot-free – they were bleeding noses, scraped cheeks, bruised eyes. At the very least, you don’t think any of them will get on Megumi’s wrong side again.

Gojo has to meet with all three of their parents tonight to give them the full story of why their children are so roughed up and what’s being done about it; a position that’s been doled out to him, you’re sure, because Principal Masamichi blames him for the incident and is punishing him. You can’t deny that seeing Gojo actually get punished for something is nice, but--

“Won’t they be mad to see me instead of you?” You ask him, biting your lip. “I mean . . . you’re his teacher. I’m just your aid.”

“Oh,” Gojo’s eyebrows rise behind his glasses. “No, it’ll be Megumi’s sister who’ll come, she’s a sweetheart! She’ll nod at you and say mournfully that she’ll talk to him and you’ll give her the paperwork, and that’s all – job done! Honestly, if I could palm this off on you and talk to Tsumiki instead, I’d do it in a heartbeat--”

“This is your job,” you tell him, exasperated, and he laughs wide and open. You’re not really supposed to get like this with him – if he were any other teacher, you’re sure that the exasperation and sighing and half-snapping you do would have had you thrown out of their class – but Gojo treats your irritation with him as if it’s the funniest thing that has ever happened. “You’re supposed to be good at dealing with this kind of thing!”

He shrugs.

“You’ll be fine!” He tells you, again. “Honestly, this isn’t the first time this has happened with Megumi and it won’t be the last. That kid’s got a right hook that could knock out an elephant!”

You do not ask him how he knows this. Asking too many questions of Gojo is always flirting with danger; you never know when his mouth will flash into a grin and you’ll suddenly be barraged with a flood of words and stories that don’t quite make sense and never seem to have a concrete end. But you can’t resist one last question – just in case it comes up. After all, it seems that Gojo has spoken to Tsumiki enough times for him to at least kind of know her--

“His sister?”

Gojo looks at you, and for a moment the shroud of capricious energy lifts from him, and he seems entirely serious. You’ve noticed this particular change in him only a few times – and often, those times have been about the more difficult backstories of students.

“His father isn’t around very often,” he says, eventually. “He’s some kind of something or other, Megumi never really says, but whatever he does, there’s a lot of travelling involved. Tsumiki’s his older sister – she’s twenty one, and she’s been more of a parent to him than it seems like his dad has.”

No wonder Megumi always seems suspicious and tired of Gojo. Something about his flighty nature probably strokes the back of Megumi’s psyche, where annoyances about an absent father are kept. You sigh, turning away and shaking your head to rid yourself of the idea of psychoanalysing the students.

“Alright,” you say wearily. “I’ll talk to Tsumiki.”

You’re nervous as you set up for the meeting. You know Gojo had said that this would be easy, that Tsumiki was very sweet and would probably apologise to you for Megumi being a problem – but still! This is the first time you’ve ever met any of your students’ guardian figures in any capacity. You feel kind of bad that it had to be for this kind of news, actually – ordinarily, you like Megumi a lot. He’s very intense and serious and clever, and you think that he has a bright future ahead of him when the trials of being a twelve year old boy finally are over – but this meeting isn’t for saying things like that. This meeting is for giving details of the three day suspension that Megumi has gotten for – you check the paperwork again – fighting three boys by himself on one of the sports courts, making them bleed and . . . breaking one of their arms? No wonder Gojo had seemed so miserable at the thought of meeting with the victims’ parents.

You sigh, running a hand through your hair, making sure that it still sits as neatly as you’d arranged it that morning. You check the clock to see you still have two minutes before anyone is due – you discreetly check your lipstick in a compact mirror (yesterday you’d had it on your teeth and you hadn’t realised until Mai had pointed it out with a laugh in her voice), smooth out your pencil skirt, tug at your stockings to make sure they’re pulled up and not wrinkling about your ankles . . .

And then, you wait.

The clock is straight across from you, so you’re able to see as Tsumiki is five minutes late, and then ten minutes late, and then fifteen. The tick-tock echoes in the room as your leg bounces against the floor, anxiety making you want to gnaw all of the carefully applied lipstick off of your mouth. From what Gojo had said, this doesn’t sound like Tsumiki at all – you’re just about to give up and pack all of your things away, figuring maybe she’d called into the office to say she couldn’t make it and telling you had been neglected, when the door slams open.

You rush to your feet, your sensible heels clacking on the ground.

“Miss Fushi--”

Your voice peters away.

The person stood in the doorway is, you’re certain, absolutely not Tsumiki Fushiguro.

For one thing, it’s a man. For another thing . . . well. You’re not entirely sure that a man with that expression on his face would ever be described to anyone as a ‘sweetheart’. Your frightened eyes linger on him for another moment, really taking in the broad shoulders and the muscles and the hair falling over his face, the dark, green eyes that are glaring at you like you’ve interrupted something very important. There’s a scar by his mouth that you also do your best not to stare at, just in the same way you avoid staring at how the form-fitting t-shirt he’s wearing clings to a muscled abdomen.

“It’s Mr, actually,” he says, which seems absurd in the face of him, standing there. He raises one eyebrow at you. “You were expecting my daughter, right?”

(You don’t know it, but Toji Fushiguro has gotten a read on you in less than a moment. He’s seen the wide eyes and the pretty mouth and the neatly appointed outfit, the pencil tucked behind your ear, the slightest tremble faced with his imposing presence – the fear as you’d seen the scar and the smoulder and the body. You’re adorable.)

“I . . . uuh--” Your cheeks are hot. You nod, weakly, and he walks into the room proper, the door swinging shut behind him with a deafening click. There’s danger in every one of this man’s movements, like a wolf who has finally cornered a little rabbit. You are feeling inexorably like prey, at this moment in time.

“I was expecting a man,” he says, shrugging. He sits at the chair in front of Gojo’s desk, pulled up just for him. He looks huge in the classroom; his shoulders too wide, his biceps bulging from the sleeve of the shirt. You don’t think this man was intending to be in a school classroom right now. “I guess you’re not Mr Gojo, huh? Gotta say,” he shoots you a grin that’s dangerous, everything about him is threatening. “I much prefer this development.”

“Oh,” you’re blustering, and it’s so cute. You sit back down in the chair with a quiet displacement of air, agitation in your fingers as you rake through the papers on the desk. Said desk is incredibly messy; Toji doesn’t think it’s yours. He ought to feel mad that they’ve palmed him off on some little assistant who’s probably not even fully qualified yet – instead, he’s watching your hands trembling and your teeth nibbling on your pretty mouth. “Y-yes, G-Gojo’s dealing with the parents of the other party--”

“My kid got into a fight, yeah?” He asks. “Decked ‘em pretty good, from what I heard.” You wince at his words, and that’s cute too.

“Megumi’s a good boy,” you say. “He’s just . . . got his own sense of justice, I think.” You look down at the papers, and your eyes seem to focus, back in a more comforting zone. “He’s been suspended for three days, and when he comes back, he’s on probation.”

“What’s that mean for him?” Toji asks, promptly, though something about the way he says it suggests to you he doesn’t really care. There’s a lightness, an airiness in his tone that sets you all off-kilter.

“It just means we’ll probably keep an especial eye on him. He’ll get a report that’ll need signing off on at the end of every period, someone will check up on it--” You see one of Gojo’s scrawled notes in the margin of the paperwork. You wince. “I’ll be in charge of it, actually. Making sure everyone’s happy with his behaviour for a few weeks--”

“How old are you, sweetheart?”

The question makes you jump. You’re like a doe in headlights, looking up at him. You blink slowly.

“I—I don’t think that’s an appropriate question, Mr Fushiguro,” you say, prim. That’s cute, too. He likes breaking prim and proper things like you. “I’m—I’m doing my training. I’m working as an aid here for a year, and then I’ll be qualified to be in charge of my own class.” There’s a hint of pride in your words, there.

“Toji,” he says. “That’s my name. You haven’t gotta call me ‘Mr Fushiguro’. I’m not tryna’ be pushy,” but he’s inched forward. His elbows are resting on Gojo’s desk, in front of you – he rests his chin on his folded hands, sharp eyes regarding you as if you’re something he wants to devour. “Y’just look tense.”

“This is the first time I’ve met a student’s parent,” you admit, though the minute it’s left your mouth you’re regretting it. Like you’re admitting to some kind of weakness. This close to him, you can see there’s a dark red stain on one of his wrists, like dried blood. Your stomach is tying itself in knots. It’s not helping that his forearms are so big, ridged with muscle.

“That so?” His eyes gleam. “What d’ya think of me?”

You don’t actually need to answer him. He can see it in the way your eyes keep nervously skimming over him. The way your lips are shining in the light. The bob of your throat as you swallow.

“Mr Fushiguro--”

“I told you to call me Toji,” his voice is almost mocking. You watch him lean over the table like you’re somewhere far away from the action – watch his hand reach out and cup your face, calloused thumb brushing your cheek, like you’re a ghost in the corner of the room. His palms feel like they’re burning hot. “You’re tremblin’, little lamb.”

You had thought you’d felt like a rabbit – shy, ready to run at any moment. But the moment his hand is on you, you’re docile – too scared to scamper away. You suppose you are like a lamb, staring a wolf straight on in the face, too stupid or too pliant to use your common sense and run.

“I . . . I shouldn’t,” you say, voice trembling just as much as the rest of you. Toji’s smirk hasn’t left his face. You’re saying you shouldn’t, but he just bets if he reached further down and unbuttoned your blouse, your nipples would pebble for him – he just bets there’s a wet stain on your underwear, right now. He can always tell when someone’s turned on by the idea of playing with fire.

“I wouldn’t mind spendin’ a few weeks with you in charge of me,” he muses, and then chuckles humourlessly, correcting himself. “Sorry. Lemme rephrase that. I’d rather be in charge of you, but--”

Oh, he sees that. The little flash in your eyes, an imperceptible contract of your shoulders. If you weren’t behind the desk, he bets he’d have seen your thighs press together too. Girls like you are just so fucking predictable, and he loves it every single time. There’s just something that’s so much fun about breaking them – making them submit, admit that him being so close with the scent of something-that-might-be-death clinging to him turns them on like nothing else. Your attempts at being haughty and polite and proud have just made the stirring between his thighs harder to ignore. You’re such a cute, neat, demure little thing – by the end of this meeting, he’s going to have his way with you, you bet.

“M-Mr Fushiguro,” you say, trying to wrest back control of yourself – honestly, he’s pissed you aren’t listening to him, but the title’s kind of endearing. You’re trying so hard! Pity you’re going to lose all of your manners when you’re bent over this desk with his cock inside you. You haven’t even moved your face away from his hand. “I-I have to give you these papers.”

He stands up, pulling his own touch away from your cheek. Stretches. Your eyes are drawn to the brief expanse of his stomach, just above his trousers – the dark line of hair leading down to . . . Oh, God. You shouldn’t have thought about that. The grin on his face is cocky, and you know that he knows you were looking.

“I’m just gonna throw ‘em in the trash, sweetheart,” he says to you. “Now. Let’s talk about the elephant in the room, yeah?” He steps closer to you. You totter to your feet, half-unsure, half driven by the low ache between your legs and the thrum of desire that’s been reverberating through you since the moment he’d carelessly thrown out how much happier he was to see you than Gojo. You have to tilt your head up a little when he comes closer. You’d thought you realised how massive he was when he’d walked through the door, but that’s nothing compared to how his size seems to dwarf you. Every unkind thought you’ve ever had about your body or your face seems to have gone out of the window as his heated green gaze hungrily drinks you in. You know it’s the stare of some predator who’s going to devour you, and you still feel transformed. Your breath catches in your throat as his hand idly comes to the top of your blouse buttons, a finger brushing the place in your throat where your pulse is beating its unsteady rhythm.

“Whaddya say, little lamb?” He grins down at you. “Gonna let yourself be caught by the big bad wolf?”

You’re supposed to be telling this man about his son’s misbehaviour, giving him all of the paperwork that Gojo had thrust at you, getting him to say he’ll talk to his kid and try and make sure that it won’t happen again. You shouldn’t be tipping your head back further, letting his fingertips lodge dangerously in the hollow of your throat, flirting with the place where your windpipe is. You shouldn’t be breathing out, all of your pretty prissiness and good morals and pride disappearing where you stand in the face of one of your students’ really hot dad.

“Yes,” you breathe.

And Toji wastes no time.

He doesn’t even bother unbuttoning your blouse; just drags his hand down, and the buttons pop off, scattering on the floor. You gasp at the show of strength, and Toji is still grinning, clearly enjoying that you’re admiring him. His hand pulls at the fabric, until your breasts are fair falling out of it, the blouse wrestles off your skin.

“You’re wearin’ something like this at work?” He asks you, giving a tug to the gore of your bra. You hadn’t done enough washing this week, and the one you’re wearing is all filmy white lace. “Almost like you knew I was comin’ huh?” His grin is crooked. You tremble as you reach behind you, undoing the clasp – and for that, you get a murmur of ‘good girl’ that has your knees turning to jelly.

He whistles as the bra drops from you, his gaze admiring. He takes in the spill of your breasts, the little peaks of your nipples. He takes handfuls of them, squeezing them in his big hands, his fingertips digging in so painfully you can imagine that you’ll have bruises in the shape of his fingers tomorrow. The idea doesn’t disgust you.

He lowers his head to kiss you. He’s not gentle with you for a moment – his teeth immediately nip at your bottom lip, kissing you hungrily like you’re the first taste of sugar for a man who’s lived on nothing but bread for months. His tongue licks at your lips, begging entrance – dancing against your own when you helplessly open those same lips, demanding in the exact same way Toji is.

He pinches your nipple between thumb and forefinger, delighting in how quickly the bud hardens. He rolls it between them, toying with it, enjoying the soft noises you make that get caught in his mouth. If he wasn’t kissing you, he thinks, you’d be bleating like a lamb right now. Huffing and whimpering. When he finally gets his cock in you, he’ll have to remember to clap a hand over your mouth so you don’t attract too much attention.

Your other nipple is given the same treatment, hot lightning bolts of pleasure ricocheting from the touch of Toji’s calloused fingers to the spot between your legs. You’re grateful for how solid Toji is – if he were any less so, you’re sure you’d be buckling over where you stand.

He pulls back with a final, marking nip to your lower lip, almost hard enough to make you bleed. You whine, and a dark chuckle spills out of his lips in response.

“Toji,” you whimper as he pulls away. You miss the feel of his body pressed against yours like a physical ache. His hands encircle your thighs, pushing you up onto the edge of Gojo’s desk, clever fingers already pushing your tight pencil skirt up so it’s bunched around your waist.

He kind of misses ‘Mr Fushiguro’ now it’s gone, but the sight of your stockings digging into your thighs soon chases the thought from his mind. He guesses your skirt is more than long and tight enough to make sure nobody gets a glimpse, but oh . . . that you’d be walking around all day, like that, with nobody to fuck you silly--

He can’t help but let his hands knead the soft skin, the flesh, his thumbs imprinting so hard in the plush that you squirm. He’s pressing your thighs apart, now – revealing the modest underwear, the soaking wet patch where he can see the outline of your plump labia lips.

With your legs spread, he can smell how turned on you are. Oh, yeah – he knows your type, alright.

“Ain’t you cute?” He says, chuckling. “You really want me to do you over this desk?”

“You can’t leave me like this--” Your voice is reedy, breathy, almost petulant – at another time, he’d make you beg for it. He’d take his time over you. But although the idea of being caught fucking the cute little teacher’s aid is briefly appealing, he doesn’t really want to make a whole load of trouble for himself when his cock is practically begging to be sheathed inside your wet holes. “Please--”

It’s the please that does it. It’s always the ‘please’ that does it for Toji. He chuckles, smirks, crooked grin – all of it feels like it’s mixing together in your mind, your throat very dry as nothing seems to matter right now except the fact that your sex is practically pulsing with how empty it is, and you think that the hot hard stiffness pressing against your thighs would really help alleviate some of that.

“Aww,” he says, fiddling with his zip and underwear, grabbing his cock and giving it a cursory pump just so you can admire the sheer size of him. “Don’t worry, little lamb. I’ll give ya what you need.”

He gets what he wants. Your eyes, as big and dark as the eyes of a doe – the soft choke of breath as you get to see the size of it, so big his own fingertips don’t quite meet. It’s the kind of cock that could ruin you for somebody else – and you’ve had sex before, of course, but you’ve never taken anything quite like that--

“That’s cute,” Toji murmurs, pressing forward, nestling his slick cock-head between your soaking wet thighs. “Wish you could have seen what a picture your face made just then. Afraid I’m gonna tear you in two?”

He might – he might, you think. But you pout at him and Toji’s cock throbs, as he glides the slick glans through the mess of your arousal, wetting himself even further. Your breath hitches, your hips doing a cute little jerk as it brushes your swollen clit. He can’t help himself but swirl the head over it some more, making your breath catch and whine, bleating like a little lamb--

He sinks his hips forward, and your fingers flex on the edge of the desk, knuckles white, at the relentless sear of his cock driving you open. You feel so stretched out, and he’s barely a third of the way in – he can’t help but watch your expression. He always likes to see someone the first time they’re impaled on his cock – the glassy eyes, slack jaw, the pleasure-cum-pain in their faces. He wants to take a picture of you and keep it in his wallet so he can pump one out to the sight of you when he’s on business trips and too busy to go out and find himself a hole to fuck.

“How’s that feel?” He asks you, so soft and low that you barely catch it. Another slow inch. He lets you feel every ridge, every vein, every bump of his shaft. You can hear your heartbeat in your ears.

“F-full—” you gasp.

“I bet,” Toji replies – and then, he bottoms out inside you. His eyes look down to where the two of you are joined; the slick fluid leaking out of you, all heat and needy. “You fit me like a glove.”

Your cheeks heat at the compliment, at the lewd way he’s looking at your spread open cunt – the way your hole is fluttering around him, the peeking pearl of your clit. He’s studying you like he wants to learn you by heart.

“Head’s up,” he says. “I’m gonna fuck you now.”

You’re about to open your mouth, and ask him what he’s doing right at that moment if he hasn’t started fucking you yet – but then, he’s dragged almost the entire length of his cock out of you in one savage thrust and is immediately spearing it back into you, his pace brutal. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, your back hitting the solid, flat surface of Gojo’s desk so that you’re flat out with your thighs wrapped around Toji’s hips.

If he weren’t so entranced by the feel of your walls fluttering around him, trying to suck him in further and deeper, so tight that you’re basically a vice, he’d grab you by your hair and force you to stay seated whilst he fucked you. But right now, you feel so good that all he can think about is his own release. The wet sounds of his cock gliding in and out of you, the squelch of your arousal and slick making every pump easier and easier. You feel so good. You’re tighter than he even imagined you could be, so good that he kind of wants to take you home and have you take up permanent residence in his bed.

You’re moaning, your back arching with every one of his thrusts – taking it admirably. There’s pain in your moans, yes – he supposes he could have prepared you better, had you come on his fingers a couple of times, if time were not of the essence – but they’re the pained moans of someone who likes to be hurt a little bit.

With every rock of his cock inside of you, he hits some new spot that you’ve never had stoked before, makes the heat and need inside of you swim just a little bit closer to the forefront. You don’t even notice you’re moaning and whining until a big hand slaps over your mouth, rough, hot palm against your lips, smearing your lipstick.

“You’re gonna be a good girl and stay quiet,” Toji says to you, through those savage thrusts of his cock inside of you. “You don’t want your . . . your fuckin’ . . . anyone walkin’ in on you being railed by your student’s dad, do you?” You shake your head, but he feels the throb of your cunt around his cock, the way your walls contract, and he adds it to the store of things he’s learning about you. Always the quiet ones, right? Always the proper ones who look as though they’ve never even seen a cock--

The feel of him inside you is absolutely dizzying, so much and so full that you can no longer think. His cock batters against a certain place in your channel, a textured wall – and before you know it, everything is going dizzy and black and white like exploding fireworks, your chest bursting into heat, your inner walls getting so tight around Toji as you come that he thinks you’ll be the one to fucking break him.

Oh, you’re adorable, creaming on his cock – the slick gush of your arousal around him, the dreamy cast in your eye, the fact he can feel you drooling against his palm. He increases the speed of his own thrusts, chasing his release through the weak aftershocks and smaller pulses of you around him, through the over-sensitive squirming of your cute little cunt, the fact that tears are pooling in your eyes at how much everything is suddenly feeling--

He groans and the hand still clinging to your thigh is suddenly pressing so hard you think he’ll snap your bone, ragged breath;

“Fu—fuuuck, sweetheart, you’re gonna take it all, that’s right, good girl--” in between belaboured, ragged pumps, his cock twitching as he manages to pull out at the last moment and his release spills all over your thighs, luridly glistening wet in the overhead fluorescent lights.

That’s another moment he’d take a picture of, if he could.

He’s not the kind of man who waits around. He gives himself ten seconds, to catch his breath, to admire your plush thighs painted with his come, before he’s tucking himself back into his trousers and zipping zippers and doing buttons. He shoves his hands into his pockets, bouncing on the balls of his feet for a second – double checking he’s left nothing of his in the classroom.

Yep. All clear.

He turns to leave, air of cocky confidence back – you only just see the shifting muscles in his back as he turns to go, leaving you where you are. You’re lucky he’s so tall, or you’d probably barely have seen him in front of the door frame (you didn’t even lock the door, anyone could have walked in at any time! You don’t even want to know what Gojo would say if he’d walked in to his aid being fucked like a slut across his desk).

“W-wait,” you say, weakly, still sprawled over the desk with his come cooling on your thighs. You manage to prop yourself up on your elbows, but your entire body feels like it’s just taken a battering. He takes a look back at you from the door, dragging a big hand through his hair, his crooked grin still on his face. You look so pretty like that – all fucked out and messy, the shine taken off of you. “T-the paperwork--”

You’re not sure where said paperwork is. Underneath you, maybe? You hope it didn’t get soaked.

“Told ya’,” he says, dismissively. “I’m just gonna throw it in the trash. Thanks for the fun, sweetheart. See y’around, huh? I should do stuff for the kid’s academic career more often.”

The door slams shut behind him.

#toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #toji x you #not sfw #writing #jjk teacher aid au #jjk posting #afab reader #fem pronouns #jjk writing tag

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lavynrose · 3 years ago

Note

- a oneshot for artem wing when he finally mustered up courage to ask out their s/o to hang out as friends (theme parks or just garden strolls, you can pick which type of place you want i won't mind!) to confess to them and when he confesses their s/o confesses at the same time too? and the s/o is kinda shy and awkward with him so he gets surprised and all flustered with them confessing at the same time?

(ackk this has been stuck in my head for a while, sorry if there are any grammar mistakes since english isn't my first language! i hope u have a great day!! :D <3)

- coomkie anon ♡

Artem Wing and his s/o confessing at the same time pt. 1

Title: Dedicated

Pairing/s: Artem Wing X Reader

Pronouns: Gender Neutral

Genre: Fluff

Warning/s: Grammatical errors probably

Notes: blushy artem is best artem, and we have celestine being the best wingwoman again

enjoy an amusement park date with Artem <3

Artem Wing is a dedicated man.

If it had been any other person, they would be home right now.

but not him.

Even now, as the looming hours of the night began to tick, he sits at his swivel chair, busied with the love of his life called paperwork.

"Aren't you overworking yourself?" He looked up from his papers to see Celestine waltzing inside his office with documents in hand.

The question should've made him stop and think to at least consider getting rest, but no, we're talking about Artem the workaholic here.

He has heard Celestine's question directed at him for the past few days, and from different people at that.

"Overworking means I have more time to double-check these documents," Artem said as he reached out for the folder that Celestine brought over, "Don't you think it's pretty convenient?"

"Artem," She started with concern in her blue-green eyes, "I know you're trying to distract yourself."

Artem was silent for a few moments before coughing, "Whatever do you mean? There's nothing I have to distract myself from." He said with complete calmness in his voice that he could even fool himself.

"You don't have to hide it, you know? I see the way you look at them," She smiled as she recalled the lingering stares and soft smiles setting display into Artem's face when he's around his colleague "The way you act around Y/N." she added with a hint of teasing.

The mention of your name seemed to short-circuit Artem's brain, Celestine took advantage of this with delight.

"Also... They've been getting friendly and close with that new employee.." She puts her hands on her chin, thinking.

Earlier today, she caught Artem's looks of distraught while his eyes were on you and the new guy. You were having a friendly conversation.

Too friendly.

After that, The youngest senior attorney even requested you to work with him at his desk, claiming that he, quote "needs to keep close tabs on the files that Y/N is handling." end quote.

but Celestine knew better.

Jealous is the only word that can describe how Artem was acting. She decided she will push his buttons tonight.

"Aren't you... threatened?" She beamed at him, waiting for his reaction.

"..."

"They've been on your mind lately, I reckon."

"..."

"They're getting closer with each other, don't you think?"

"..."

Hopeless. Celestine thought.

To say that she's frustrated with this whole situation surrounding the two of you is an understatement. Everyone in your circle clearly sees it - you and Artem like each other.

In the way he bought cake for the whole office that one afternoon the day after an episode of an office drama aired, or in the way that he went out of his way to take care of you in the hospital when you overworked yourself to sickness, or in the way you blushed around each other, the lingering touches, oh the lingering touches. It was all obvious.

The both of you spend your time together more than anyone else, everyone thinks your blooming affections were inevitable at this point. Solving controversial cases meant having the mental and emotional intimacy to get to know each other better compared to your average professional relationship.

You don't see each other as "working partners" anymore, it's clear that you guys want each other as a different kind of partner.

It was known to everyone except for the two of you, apparantly.

Celestine sighed before rummaging through the magazine shelf in the office, grinning when she found what she's looking for.

Artem shot her a look of suspicion. He has a bad feeling about this.

"There." She said with satisfaction before dropping the magazine into his desk.

The magazine lays there, with an eye-catching font and colorful cover page, Artem blushes as his eyes read, 100 cute date ideas...

Judging from the cover, the magazine might actually be useful when giving date suggestions. Under the big font however, there was a smaller text that read, Your significant other is waiting!

What is this...

"I'm sorry but I have work to finish." He tried his best to unsee what he just saw, and decided to turn his focus on the headache of workload in front of him instead.

Celestine raised her eyebrows at him with a frown, "Don't be stubborn now, I'm your boss, I'm giving you both a day-off tomorrow. I mean, you haven't used your day-off at all ever since you started working here. So please. " Her voice is laced with concern.

He looked away with a sentimental look in his eyes, "You don't have to do this for me. I'm fine with... Giving them affection without them realizing it."

Celestine just frowns deeper.

"Come on now Artem, doesn't it sound tempting to you?" She clasped her hands and continued a little too excitedly like a schoolgirl in love, "Having alone time with Y/N, finally asking them out on the date so the other guys threatening your future can back off."

It does sound tempting, Artem admits.

He looked away with reddened cheeks, "I'll think about it."

He doesn't need to look at Celestine to know she's sporting a big grin right now.

Later that night on his bed, his mind keeps flashing images of you. You, wearing a big, warm smile on your face. You, with your little mannerisms that he came to memorize from hours of being with you. Every little thing, every moment, as long as it's with you, he cherishes it.

Oops. The butterflies are starting.

He didn't mind.

You looked stunning today, but then again, he finds you stunning everyday.

When was I this cheesy? He thought to himself.

His thoughts kept racing with reveries about you when a new image interrupted every nice thought.

It was of you and the new employee laughing together.

He frowned and his stomach churns.

"Are they interested in each other?" He finds himself asking the wind. His mind was reeling.

He thinks about the time when he first heard you say that you were married to your work. Surely, you aren't interested in being in a relationship with some guy, right?

Right?

Groaning, he then realized that he needs to make a move now before it's too late.

To him, you're the loveliest person he's ever met, your kindness, your welcoming smile, the passion that you present when you're in the court, the way you always remain headstrong no matter how many people clash with you and try to break your principles.

The only one that occupies his heart, you.

Artem is sure he won't regret giving you his feelings, and eventually, reveal them.

He got up from his bed and sent a glare at the magazine that is now resting on the lamp table beside his bed, mocking him. He picked it up with less hesitation than before.

'What should I choose?' Artem asked himself before flipping the pages, a faint blush adorning his cheeks.

This is a big step for him, and he wants to make sure that he's going to do it right.

7:00am

You rubbed your eyes and stretched your limbs as the sunlight permeated through your bedroom window, the yellow glow giving you a peaceful feeling, a new day is about to start.

A new day without work at that.

You had been ecstatic when Celestine called you to inform you last night of your long awaited day-off, you smiled at the memory as you stand up to brush your teeth.

"You deserve it for all your hardwork!" Even through the phone, you heard the smile in her voice.

Soon, your thoughts drifted to a certain raven-haired man.

'How about Artem? I'm his assistant, does he get a day-off too?' You wondered as you finished washing your mouth, finally heading off to the kitchen to prepare for breakfast.

You were about to choose what to eat from the fridge when you hear a song play from your phone in your room.

You hurriedly went back as you recognized that ringtone - that ringtone you had set for a particular contact.

There on the screen, displays the name of the object of your affections.

Mr. Wing.

'Why is he calling this early? What could he possibly need?' you thought to yourself before pressing the green button.

"Good morning Artem, what is it?" you didn't even try to hide the happiness from your voice, Artem calling you this early doesn't happen often, after all.

"Good morning. Do you have plans for today?" His morning voice echoed through your ears. It was husky and rough, filling all of your senses.

Realizing that he just woke up, you can't help but blush at the thought of being the first person to talk to him today.

He thought of you first thing in the morning!

You tried to control the lingering heat in your face as you replied, "Uhm, yes uhh- none. I have no plans for today, Artem. I'll be thinking of what to do though. Why did you ask? " You hoped he didn't mind the sttuttering mess presented to him this early in the morning.

You wondered if there's an emergency case needed to be taken care of, he rarely ever calls outside of work.

Then again, you're always at work.

"That's good," the other line was silent for a bit. As your anticipation for his reply grew, he finally said, "A new amusement park is going be opened today. I heard they'll be having a fireworks display tonight to celebrate the opening."

You've heard about the said amusement park from your coworkers yesterday, you even heard that it was a project from PAX.

Marius' wealth truly knows no bounds, you thought.

Kiki even invited you to come with her this sunday, as it's the only freetime the both of you had before Celestine's sudden news of a day-off.

Is Artem coming there today? He doesn't seem like the type to go to amusement parks, but now you know that he likes them, or at least he didn't mind going, you added this info to your list of things about Artem that make you fall in love with him more and more. Because let's be honest, what's there not to like about the man?

He's handsome, sweet, a good cook, a senior attorney you can look up to, and he always makes sure to reassure you that you're doing well, that he's proud of you.

He cleared his throat, breaking you out of your thoughts, "Do you want to go there..." He paused, his nerves getting the better of him, unbeknownst to you, "With me? I have two tickets, and I wanted to invite a close friend. Is that alright with you? "

What?

'Is he asking me out on a date!?' you were practically screaming internally as you paced frantically in your room.

No. No way. This isn't a date. Not until he says so.

He said 'close friend' so you shouldn't overthink this. You were partners, after all!

At least you try to convince yourself.

"Of course Artem. I'm glad you invited me, I'm really happy." You weren't lying, his invite was the most unexpected thing that happened to you this week.

He hummed, "I'm happy, too. I'll be there at 2:30pm to fetch you, they'll open around 3pm. " He said in a gentle voice before hanging up.

You pumped your fist in the air. You have plenty of time to prepare.

2:30pm

Among all of the outfits that you could've worn today, you decided to wear a cute, beige, knitted sweater. A pair of faded ripped jeans, white sneakers, and a beanie to top it all off.

The amusement park being your destination, you decided to wear casual clothing since you'd be hopping on rides left and right.

You wouldn't want to wear a skirt just for it to blow on the wind while you're in the air, screaming for dear life.

Nope. You definitely don't want that.

You're now waiting outside your apartment after Artem sent you a text 5 minutes ago that he's on his way.

Your head is plagued with expectations on how this friendly date is going to go. You've never felt as giddy as this before.

It's understandable, right? The person you like asked you out to go with him to an amusement park - using his morning voice, nonetheless, so it wouldn't be strange for you to think that this is like an actual date.

You bonked yourself mentally.

You keep reminding yourself that it's just a friendly date. It's just a friendly date. You believe in the power of your mind, it's a friendly date. He even said so himself.

Artem's going to think you're weird. It's not like you're going to hold hands or anything...

Yet, you didn't even try to stop the daydream clouding your mind.

While you were busy indulging yourself in your fantasies, your eyes caught a familiar spot of black in the parking lot. Artem's car!

That's your cue. When his car stopped, you made your way over to him with a small smile on your face.

His black car opened, spilling out Artem clad in his casual clothing.

You scanned his appearance, taking in those breath-taking, familiar eyes. Taking in the beige, knitted sweater he's wearing, paired with slacks and black shoes.

Wait.

You did a double take- beige, knitted sweater?

You looked at his clothes, then looked down at your own, then back at his again.

Red and warmth crept up to your cheeks as realization hits you.

You kind of looked like a couple.

"What's wrong?" Artem inquired with concern as he stepped closer and reached out his hands to your flustered form.

He even placed his hand on your forehead to check your temperature.

Yes, you think you have a fever.

It's only when he got to take a good look at you when realization hits him the way it hit you.

He retreated his hand and looked away, face as warm as yours.

"Uhh..."

"..."

Why are you acting like a highschooler!? You're better than this, getting flustered just because you wore identical clothes.

With the person you like, you added.

The both of you stayed silent for a few seconds before you spoke up with a grin, thankful that the pink that dusted your cheeks is now cooling down a bit, "We should get going now."

You expected the ride to be as awkward as earlier, but to your relief, that wasn't the case at all.

Artem played the radio on your drive to the amusement park, and even asked you about how you're feeling lately and whatnot.

Honestly, with how he's always so concerned about your well-being, you're doomed to fall even harder.

"What are your favorite rides, Artem?" You decided to talk about something connected to where you're going to go.

"Hmm," as he hummed, you looked in front of the car to see the gates of the amusement park came into view. You can even see the familiar structure of a rollercoaster and a really grand ferris wheel turning slowly.

Majestic.

Is the motif for this amusement park golden!? The railings are shimmering with gold, some parts of the rides are adorned with gold, wherever you look, gold!

PAX outdid themselves with this one, definitely took "shining, shimmering, splendid" to a whole new level. Too much for the word grandeur, you think.

You can't even imagine how wide the place must be. You haven't even stepped foot inside, yet your eyes were oogling as some more rides were seen from outside the gates.

"We're here Artem! Look!" From your side, Artem turns to take a look from the road to the park, his eyes screaming nothing but amusement.

"It's beautiful," He breathed while you nodded furiously with agreement. He shot you a look, "I'm glad I get to spend my first time here with you." The softness is his eyes is blinding as you stared at him and processed his words.

"Me too..." you managed to choke out, turning away to hide your blush.

While you were taming your flushed cheeks, Artem had parked the car already.

He opened the doors for the both of you as he offered you his arm. Confusion takes over your features.

"So you wouldn't get lost, it's a big crowd out here, " He tilted his head to have a better look at your still sitting form inside the car, "Let's go?" He said with that gentle smile, as comforting as ever.

You stood up and linked your arm with his and suggested, "How about the bumpy car first?" excitement was evident in your voice.

He shook his head and chuckled, "Whatever you wish." He said as he locked the car doors with a click. You both headed to check in and do the formalities first. After all that, with a skip to your step, you pulled Artem to the bumpy car's ticket booth, and went inside.

You're elated.

"I can't believe the Artem Wing, the youngest senior attorney, is losing to me!" You sound hysterical as you bumped Artem's car with yours over and over, your bumpy car dominating his.

This is fun! Just minutes earlier, the atmosphere between you and Artem seemed a little tight because of the matching clothing incident. Just a little. However, the laughter of everyone playing in this space is infectious, it leaves you in a really good and playful mood.

It makes you feel like you were a kid again. You hope Artem feels the same.

Before playing, you made a bet with him earlier that whoever bumps the other the most, wins.

"Y/N. I think this car is defective." He said with a frown, his eyebrows furrowing as his hands tinker whatever there was in the steering wheel.

You looked over to him and replied, "We can switch cars, let me see." The two of you switched from each other's bumpy ride and you assessed the supposedly 'broken' car.

You realized he didn't push the right buttons to ride the bumper properly.

"Artem..." You looked at him blankly and said, "Have you ever been to bumpy cars before?"

He was silent before replying with darting eyes, "No, I haven't," He cleared his throat, "I have only been to the ferris wheel and escape rooms, I haven't been to bumpy rides before. Sorry."

You beamed at him.

"Don't be sorry!" You flail your arms to disagree, "There's nothing wrong with that. I'm actually happy that you allowed me to drag you here despite you not having played it before." You flashed him a thankful smile.

He looked a little surprised at first, but then that warm smile of his came back, "Thank you." You stared at each other's eyes for a few beats in time, his ocean eyes containing a sparkle you rarely see them hold. It looks so gentle, so welcoming.

So fond.

You stared at each other for a while, his deep eyes were enough to drown out the crowd. To drown out everything that existed but him.

Blinking, you snapped out of it to teach him how to drive the car.

The cars were booster types, different from the old models wherein you just turn the wheels and you'll be good. In this specific model, commands are needed to be performed in order for the car to execute it's special feature.

"You turn it like this..." Artem is a fast-learner, so the both you were back on track as soon as you guided him the directions.

In the end, you were tied, the bumper time limit resulting the draw.

"I'm definitely beating you next time!" you declared with a smug look, hands on your waist.

After the bumper, a receptionist from what seemed like a family raft ride made his way to invite the two of you.

"You guys look like you're having fun!" He then pointed at the paper he's holding and said with persuasion, "You're going to have even more fun here! The family raft ride is the only free ride we're offering in the park for it's first day, be sure not to miss out on this special bonus!" He then turned his heel to find more costumers.

You blinked, "Too bad we don't have extra clothes..." You hung your head low and you sighed as your mind thinks of a different ride to enjoy.

"Well, he did say it's a special bonus," Artem pondered, "They sell clothes here anyway, and there are restrooms we can change on," you wondered if this is going the way you think it's going, "I can see no harm in trying this free ride." He finished with the corners of his lips turned upwards.

Your eyes sparkled with so much joy that he's glad he suggested this.

"Then what are we waiting for!?" You squeal and jump from where you stand and Artem could only shake his head at you with an adoring look in his ocean eyes.

You both headed to the line of people waiting to get their tickets for the raft.

"That's a long line..." You're already mentally tired as you stared at the single file of people in front of you.

"There's still plenty of time before the fireworks at 7pm, I can go and buy us ice cream. Do you want some? "

You're face fell, remembering you were on a diet, "I appreciate the offer, but no thanks, I'm on a diet." An ice cream sounds really tempting right now, but you must resist.

"I heard they sell low-fat ice cream in here. How about that?" He proposed as his eyes glinted with satisfaction.

He knew this would do you in, sure enough, you gave him the biggest grin you could muster.

"You're the best, Artem! Any flavor is fine, by the way. " You beamed as he turned his heel to the ice cream stall, you just stared at his back the whole time he was away.

A minute later, the man wearing a cozy beige sweater that matches yours turned around and went over to you, two chocolate chip ice cream in hand. You reached out to take your ice cream, your fingers brushing.

You ignored the tingling feeling and the chills. He looked away.

While eating, you talked about how the line for the rollercoaster was two times longer than the raft's even though it's literally free.

"I believe they added a new feature to the coaster." Artem reasoned.

"You bet. The rides' golden theme is already impressive enough," You eyed the unbelievably long line from the coaster's ticket booth, "We can go back here some time to see that feature for ourselves." your face heated as you realized the implications in your words.

His eyes widened for a single moment and then looked at you with such intensity you can't bring yourself to look away, "I'd love that." a gentle look worms it's way in his features once again.

Comfortable silence dawns on your own, little world while you both busied yourselves in your ice cream.

The two of you were thrilled as it was your turn to ride the raft, ice cream long gone, replaced by the life-vest in your hands.

"Ah," you sighed, fumbling with the vest a little longer than you should have.

Artem, of course, noticed your movements. He was kind enough to help you adjust the vest.

Of course.

"Come here." He said as his arms finds it's way to your waist, pulling you towards his stature. His hot breath hitting your face while he circled his arms around you to wrap the vest securely.

This is not good for your heart...

He's so close, you could kiss him if you wanted...

He pulled away, his warmth lingering still.

Even when the both of you sat down on the raft. The ride is going to start in a few and here you are, lost in the feeling of Artem being near you.

"Y/N," You abruptly turned your head to him when he suddenly called you, "are you nervous?"

You blushed so hard you wanted to evaporate with the water, 'Yes. You make me nervous.' you're tempted to respond.

"Yes, but don't worry about me." was your reply instead, and you smiled awkwardly and stared at his blue eyes, blue eyes laced with concern.

He leaned closer, probably so that the other people within your raft wouldn't hear, "I care about you and I want you to feel as comfortable as possible," he whispered in your ear, sending chills to your spine.

This is definitely not comfortable, Mr. Wing.

Your heart is doing flips, this isn't normal!

"Please tell me if you need something." The gentleness in his voice took your breath away the way it did as the first time.

The fact that he's unaware of his effect on you angered you so much. You scanned his face for signs of teasing. Smirk, maybe a playful glint, anything.

Yet you found none.

The raft began to move, a perfect timing to change the subject!

You leaned on him, but not too close, and whispered, "It's starting."

Water began to splash, as the raft moved with the current.

The track was smooth at first, you getting small splashes here and there.

Until a bumpy track decided to present itself.

Like before, the raft went with the flow of the water, except that it bounced and rotated harshly that one particular splash of water was enough to wet you and your clothes completely.

"OH MY G-" you exclaimed when the raft hit a rough spot again, soaking everyone wet.

You were making a surprised pikachu face as the water seeped into your clothes.

You turned to look at Artem to see his state and you suppressed a giggle with how he's making the same face as you did earlier.

Never in your life you thought you'd see Artem with the surprised pikachu face.

You took pride in knowing that you're one of the very few people who gets to see this side of him.

"Artem!" you shouted through the noisy stream of water. "We look silly!" you laughed as the water rocked everyone in the raft as harsh as it possibly can. Round and round, back and forth.

"We do!" his laughed mingled with yours even when the water relentlessly kept soaking your already wet bodies.

You smiled once again, gazing at his form with profound fondness longer than just a friend would've done.

6:00pm

"That was really fun!" You shouted to the air while Artem scooted beside you, offering his arm like he did earlier, which you eagerly took.

The both of you went for another round on the raft after the first round, not caring about the long waiting line. The ride was worth it!

All you ever did was scream and laugh at each other's state, but it was the most enjoyment you've ever had in years.

You were completely dry now, changed into fresh clothes that were sold as the park's merchandise.

Even with the change of clothes, the clothes you were wearing right now still matched Artem's.

You weren't complaining.

The crowd continues to enjoy themselves, all while the sunset was making everything in the theme park look like a fairytale.

"Yes, it was. I enjoyed it very much." Artem flashed a smile so genuine, you wanted to see this sight a thousand times more. The orange glow of the sunset gives his raven hair a golden shade, light reflecting on his blue eyes, making him look so bewitching. So you carved it to your memory, not knowing how to elicit that same image from him once again.

Looking up at him, and looking back at the things that happened today, you realized something.

You couldn't take this silent pining anymore, you wanted to tell him how precious his smile is to you, to tell him you're glad he's spending his time with you, to tell him to make more memories with you.

To tell him he's the reason of the warmth flooding your whole being right now.

'I'm in love with you' is what you first thought of saying. No matter how cliche that may be, you wanted to let him know, that you're in love with him.

"Uhh, Artem, I-" You were about to spill your feelings then and there when a voice boomed the speakers of the park.

"Everyone! One hour more to go for the fireworks! Please look forward to it!"

Your confession's gonna have to wait for later.

part 2 here

#tears of themis #tears of themis x reader #artem x reader #artem wing #artem wing x reader #tears of themis imagines #tears of themis headcanons #zuo ran x reader #tot x reader #tears of themis oneshots #tears of themis artem #tot artem

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