#this revelation came to me out of nowhere

[maddiemare]

Dreamtale is literally Genesis 1 of the Bible.

Dreamtale = Garden of Eden

Tree of Feeling = Tree of Knowledge

Nightmare = Eve

Dream = Adam

Change my mind.

[rosicheeks]

I’m not and never have been the conventional “beautiful”, so guys overlooked me or thought I was gross and ugly. Then someone comes along and makes me feel special and seen…. But like everyone else, they get bored, throw me away and easily move on.

Which just proves to me that the guys I grew up with were all right - I am trash and no one is ever going to love me ✌️

[choerypetal]

Love at first sight. / Squid Games!Men

summary; a little prompt for each men in squid game x reader.

also my english isn't my first language so i do apologize for a few errors! enjoys x

including; in-ho, thanos, myung-gi, dae-ho & gi-hun

In-ho: 

Praise yourself for catching In-ho’s attention amidst the chaos of the games. Not only did he manage to maintain his composure, but he also came to terms with the truth—it wasn’t his mind playing tricks on him, but his heart betraying him. He had been ensnared in a dangerous blend of love and death. And no matter the cost, he was determined to ensure your survival, even if it meant faking your death and arranging for the guards to escort you to his shelter.

At first, his actions were subtle—a few fleeting glances, quiet assurances that you weren’t alone. He took it upon himself to ensure someone capable stood between you and danger. This resolve led him to seek out Gi-hun, cornering him with a whispered plea. “I’m not asking for much,” In-ho murmured, his voice low and firm. Gi-hun’s brows knit together as he glanced at you, understanding little of the request but sensing its weight. Though the urge to question why In-ho couldn’t protect you himself lingered, Gi-hun ultimately accepted—he, too, had his own plans to carry out.

Yet, watching Gi-hun hover near you ignited something unexpected in In-ho—a simmering, unanticipated jealousy. His blood boiled harder than he cared to admit.

It was Gi-hun’s proximity to you that set him on edge.

While 001 had extended a friendly hand, In-ho never anticipated him stealing you away entirely. The realization unsettled him, and during the chaos of the Carousel games, panic began to creep in. When he noticed you were nowhere to be found in the room, it nearly consumed him. The thought of losing you made his fists clench, and for a brief, irrational moment, he contemplated throwing a punch at Gi-hun. But it wasn’t until the final elimination, when the doors unlocked, that relief washed over him. There you were—your silhouette unmistakable behind Dae-ho.

In that instant, he didn’t hesitate. Rushing toward you, his breath hitched, words failing him. A shaky exhale escaped his lips, a mix of disbelief and overwhelming relief. He almost laughed—a scoff of incredulity—before pulling you close, his hand instinctively cradling the back of your head. Without a second thought, he leaned in, his lips pressing a firm but tender kiss to your forehead.

“Silly,” he muttered, his voice tight with emotion. “I never should’ve trusted Gi-hun to keep you safe. Damn it, I thought I’d lost you.” The panic in his voice caught you off guard, the weight of his words sinking in. You hadn’t expected such raw vulnerability from him—not now, not like this. A soft chuckle escaped you, an attempt to lighten the moment. “It’s okay,” you reassured him gently. “Dae-ho found me right away and made sure I was safe.”

That revelation gave In-ho pause, but he filed it away for later. For now, none of it mattered. You were alive and unharmed, and that was everything.

The kiss on your forehead wasn’t just a gesture of relief—it was a silent declaration. You were his, and no one—not Gi-hun, not Dae-ho, not anyone—would ever take you from him again.

Thanos: 

Once a retired rapper, Thanos now found himself thrust into a life-and-death struggle. Among his generation, it was no surprise that some idolized him—his presence commanding a respect so intense, it bordered on worship. To them, he was pristine, untouchable. But this adoration didn’t sit well with everyone, especially loners like you, who preferred to navigate the chaos without attachments.

Ironically, that aloofness was one of the many reasons Thanos found himself drawn to you.

In the early days on the island, Thanos made no effort to reveal his interest. If anything, he mirrored your indifference, matching your cold detachment with his own. But when you began spending time with Myung-gi, the dynamic shifted. Thanos hadn’t expected it, nor did he like it. Watching you bond with someone else left a bitter taste in his mouth, awakening a tension he couldn’t ignore. The loner mindset had been his strategy for survival—a simple equation: fewer people, fewer complications. But your presence complicated everything, especially when it came to your effortlessly beautiful face, which he found himself stealing glances at far too often.

It didn’t take long for his resolve to crack.

Thanos had made himself a promise: to keep his distance, to ignore you as you ignored him. But that promise shattered the moment Nam-Gyu let slip a confession Thanos had sworn him to secrecy about. That little fucker, Thanos thought bitterly, though his anger was tempered by necessity—he needed Nam-Gyu to survive. Yet, when the truth reached you, it unraveled him in ways he hadn’t anticipated.

Instead of drawing you closer, the revelation pushed you further away. Your avoidance became more deliberate, more pronounced than ever before. It stung more than Thanos cared to admit. For the first time in a long time, he was unprepared—for your reaction, for the way it tightened a knot of frustration and longing deep inside him.

Which only added more tension between the two of you.

The final games loomed, a trial where survival would demand more than just cunning—it called for a kind of ruthless cleansing. Thanos knew, without hesitation, that when the moment came, he’d be the first to grab your hand and shield you. Even if it meant overreacting, even if it jeopardized his own chances, he couldn’t bear the thought of losing you. Certainly not to Myung-gi, if it came down to that.

“You know...” he murmured late that night, his voice low and almost hesitant. Your back was turned to him, your body stiff on the thin mattress. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, couldn’t even steal a glance. Not after everything. The weight of his breath lingered against the back of your neck, and you flinched slightly, betraying your nerves. His presence, so close and unyielding, was suffocating yet magnetic.

“Tomorrow is... big,” he continued, his words faltering as his gaze shifted across the dimly lit dormitory. For a moment, his eyes locked on Player 333, who sat sharpening a weapon in the corner—a stark reminder of the danger waiting ahead. Thanos clenched his jaw, then turned his focus back to you.

“If we’re not careful...” he trailed off, his voice softening, almost breaking. “Who knows if I’ll ever get to see your beautiful face again?”He exhaled sharply, frustrated with himself, as if admitting even that much was a risk. “I know it’s��” 

Your head snapped toward him, your brows furrowing into a glare sharp enough to cut through the tension between you. For a moment, silence hung in the air, charged and heavy. Then, your voice broke it, calm yet biting. “If you keep this up, you might be the one ending up with a bullet in the face,” you said, your tone so nonchalant it bordered on cute—a contrast that left Thanos momentarily stunned. He blinked, almost scoffing in disbelief, one hand pressing dramatically against his chest.

“Ouch,” he drawled, his lips curling into a grin. “I’m hurt, sweetheart.”

Your eyes narrowed into daggers. “Do. Not. Call me sweetheart.”

Before you could say more, Nam-Gyu chimed in from his corner, a mischievous smirk playing on his face. “I bet she’s in love,” he teased, his words practically dripping with mockery.

Thanos’s cocky grin widened at that, his eyes gleaming with a maddening mix of pride and amusement. The sheer arrogance in his expression made your fingers twitch, itching to slap that smug look right off his face. But instead, you gave him one final glare—a death wish in your eyes, though to Thanos, it looked like the beginning of a love story.

“I bet she is,” he echoed, his voice soft but certain, the words carrying a weight of truth that made your chest tighten. He didn’t try to stop you as you turned and walked away, but his gaze lingered, following every step you took. Oh, how you had him wrapped around your finger without even realizing it. A wimp for you, and you alone.

Myung-gi: 

Everyone knew who Player 333 was—you included. Unlike many in this room who were desperate to claw their way out of debt, you knew Myung-gi only by name. You’d heard the rumors: how he’d gotten his girlfriend pregnant, how his past was littered with mistakes and secrets. But something in you—a stubborn spark of hope, perhaps—whispered that he wasn’t as bad as everyone wanted him to be. Maybe, just maybe, there was more to him than the stories let on.

Myung-gi had noticed you, though. He’d seen the way you were with Jun-hee—the way your smile seemed to ease her fears, how your arms would wrap gently around her petite frame after every game, grounding her, giving her the space to breathe. The quiet strength and warmth you brought to her felt almost unreal, a motherly presence in a place devoid of comfort.

It was that tenderness, that undeniable light, that struck him like a blow to the chest.

Myung-gi was in love.

And he hated every single moment of it.

Why? Because he knew himself. He knew what he’d done to Jun-hee—how he’d left her while she was pregnant with his child, drowning in debt and fear. He’d been a coward, an asshole, and he knew it. That self-loathing festered, a constant reminder of his failures. And yet, it was exactly why he didn’t expect you to see him as anything other than the man he despised.

But fate had other plans.

Your first real interaction with him came after he saved you—something neither of you had anticipated.

It happened during the Bathroom games, where survival left no room for personal grudges. Confronting Thanos wasn’t at the forefront of Myung-gi’s mind, but then he heard it—your name, slipping from Thanos’s lips with such filth that it ignited a rage Myung-gi didn’t know he was capable of.

Everyone knew your past as an escort within the crypto community. Your name wasn’t hard to find, whispered in private conversations and occasionally tied to scandalous wallets. But Myung-gi knew better than to judge. Still, hearing Thanos—the retired rapper—speak of you like that, as though you were nothing more than a commodity, was the last straw.

“She was good for a foreigner. Not many—”

That was as far as Thanos got before Myung-gi’s fist collided with his jaw, cutting him off mid-sentence. The sickening crack of impact echoed through the grimy bathroom, followed by a faint splatter of blood. Myung-gi emerged from the stall alive but seething, his knuckles raw and his breath ragged. As he stepped out, his gaze immediately locked with yours. Jun-hee stood beside you, clinging to your arm for reassurance, but the look on your face was unreadable—a mix of surprise, understanding, and something softer.

A small, almost imperceptible smile crept across Myung-gi’s lips.

In that moment, he made a silent promise: no matter what it took, he’d make sure both of you got out of this alive.

Dae-ho: 

Dae-ho never believed in love at first sight. With everything he’d endured in his life—the trials, the sacrifices, the relentless pursuit of strength—he saw himself as a knight in shining armor, bound by duty but never destined for romance. That belief held firm until he met you.

It happened during the Carousel game. Like In-ho, he’d noticed you before—your stoic demeanor during Green Light, Red Light had left him quietly impressed. The way you moved, swift yet calculated, managing to evade the statue’s unrelenting gaze with precision, was nothing short of remarkable. It was then that something shifted in him. Against all reason, Dae-ho found himself believing in love at first sight.

At first, he thought he was imagining it. He even considered pinching himself, blinking twice to dispel the notion. But the feeling persisted, undeniable and maddening. It wasn’t until later, when you tended to his wounds after one of the brutal games, that he finally saw you up close—and the full weight of your beauty struck him like a blow. Your lashes fluttered delicately as you focused on your task, your fingers gentle but firm as you dabbed rubbing alcohol onto his injuries. He hissed at the sting, his lips parting in a soft groan of pain.

“Be still, please,” you murmured, your tone calm but commanding. Something about the way you said it—the quiet strength in your voice—silenced his protests. He nodded, his muscles relaxing under your care, though the tension in his chest was harder to soothe.

For the first time, Dae-ho felt vulnerable—not because of his wounds, but because of you.

“You know…” His voice was low, almost hesitant, but there was a softness to it that made you pause. You could’ve sworn his lips curved into the faintest smile. “I never would’ve thought I’d see you like this—healing me. Back at the Carousel, I swore to myself I’d keep you close, that we’d find the door as quickly as anyone else. But then… the next thing I knew, Thanos had taken you before I could…”

He trailed off, his words tinged with shame. The vulnerability in his voice made you glance up at him, your fingers stilling as you finished securing the bandage. His eyes widened at your sudden attention, and he immediately began to stammer.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

You interrupted him with a soft sigh, sliding the remaining bandage back into your pocket. “Don’t apologize. We just weren’t lucky, that’s all. I wanted to prove to myself that I could handle it—that I wasn’t just someone who had to count on others.” Your gaze softened as you added, almost reluctantly, “But… I have to admit, not having you there in that room—it was horrible.”

Your quiet confession was enough to undo him. Without a word, Dae-ho wrapped his arms around you, wincing slightly as the movement pulled at his wounds. Still, he didn’t let go. His embrace was warm, protective, and when he leaned in to press a kiss to your forehead, it felt like a promise.

“Nevertheless,” he murmured, his voice filled with a quiet reassurance, “I’m just glad we made it through. That you’re here with me.” His lips quirked into a small grin as he added, with a teasing lilt, “And that I get to cuddle with you for another night.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his words, the tension between you easing for a moment. For now, at least, you both had each other.

Gi-hun: 

Unlike the others, you weren’t a player. But you knew Gi-hun from the previous game he was in. He was so certain you had died right in front of his eyes back then that when he saw the mask ripped off your face—revealing you as one of the Guards—his shock was palpable. Another Guard had been taken hostage by the remaining candidates, and though you could have cursed every word that came to mind, you found yourself frozen, your voice stolen by the chaos.

In-ho was the first to recognize you. He knew you were on shift at this hour, but what he hadn’t expected was the look of sheer horror that crossed Gi-hun’s face when your name escaped his lips.

“Y/N...?” Gi-hun’s voice trembled, disbelief heavy in the air as though he was trying to confirm he wasn’t dreaming.

“You know them?” one of the players sneered, their stolen gun now aimed squarely at Gi-hun. Bodies of your co-workers—faces you barely had time to register—lay scattered across the floor, lifeless, just feet away. The metallic tang of blood filled the air.

But this time, Gi-hun wasn’t about to let anyone lay a finger on you. He remembered the vow you both had made:

"We belong to each other. And I will get you home."

With those words etched into his resolve, Gi-hun made his move. Chaos erupted as the gun exchanged hands, bullets flying. The air was filled with deafening roars of defiance and the sickening splatter of blood.

In the end, In-ho stood back, his heart cold and unyielding, as he watched Gi-hun fall. The final shot rang out, and his lifeless body crumpled to the ground. Blood speckled your cheek, and you stared in stunned silence at the empty shell of a man you had once loved.

From the shadows, a familiar voice cut through the carnage, low and mocking.

“Welcome back home, love.”

You turned toward the source, and there he was Gi-hun—his gruesome smile sending chills down your spine.

[wormdebut]

STEDDIE MICROFIC JANUARY — NEW YEARS REVELATIONS

@steddiemicrofic | Word: New | Word Count: 517 | Rated: T | CW: Steve is a pining mess

——

“Has it ever crossed your mind, that you might just—like him?”

Steve couldn’t hide the cringe. His shoulders twitched—

“Ew, Robin.”

“Don’t Ew, me, Harrington. I don’t mean to burst your weird little bubble here but every day you complain about Eddie Munson is another day I have to watch you, pining after him.” Robin Buckley is tired.

Robin Buckley is insane.

“Ew, Robin!” Steve yelps. Tossing the blanket off his bed to slap at her shoulders. Fuck this shit.

“I’m serious, Steve. I think it’s time that maybe—perhaps—you consider—that maybe you’re into men.”

Steve can’t help but scoff. “Well, no shit Rob. Of course I’m into men. That’s not fucking new. It’s not men that are the problem—it’s him.”

Robin’s eyes go wide. “Well, shit, Steve. This revelation is pretty damn new to me!”

Steve tries to stop his eyes rolling to the back of his head—he really does.

“Oh come on, Robbie. I’m me. Is this ‘revelation’ really all that shocking.”

“I—“ Robin sighs. “Yeah, well. It always kinda has made sense hasn’t it?” She can’t help but laugh. “But why is Ed—“

Steve cuts her off. “Don’t.”

She laughs again, “Oh, come on, Steven. You just came out to me at ten at night on a Tuesday in January. God forbid I say Eddie Munson’s name.”

“Ew, Robin!” Steve couldn’t handle this. Really he couldn’t.

Her laughing was getting out of control now.

“Oh my god! Your blushing! This is even crazier than the fucking demogorgons!”

“Robin!”

——

It doesn’t go away.

His stupid feelings for stupid—him—don’t go away and it’s getting harder to hide.

Steve’s watching Eddie prep for a show.

A rock show.

The world can end several times, that’s not shocking. No.

But Eddie Munson and his stupid band getting weird underground street cred because he is some sort of hellspawn, devil child that survived the earthquake of ‘86?

That’s shocking.

And it’s hot as hell.

This is not good. This is awful . Eddie Munson is terrible for Steve’s health.

Fuck it. It’s a new year and he had survived the world nearly ending several times.

So he had a raging boner for Eddie Munson.

Whatever.

——

Steve was dazed. Turns out the underground hellspawn music circuit knew their shit.

Corroded Coffin was incredible.

Eddie Munson was hot.

And Steve Harrington was absolutely fucked.

“As I live and breathe, Stevie baby! You came to see me.” Eddie popped up out of nowhere, sweaty, eyes wide, clearly buzzing with adrenaline—and sweaty.

Steve swallows. Is it hot in here? “Uh—yeah. You were hot—I mean, the band was hot—great—good. You guys were good.” What the fuck? What the actual fuck? Get a grip.

Eddie smirks—and Steve is fine, thank you.

“Ohoho—Do you think I’m pretty, Stevie?” Eddie winks, and he’s so close and so sweaty and—you know what?

Yeah—Fuck yeah.

“And if I did?” Steve asks, chill, suave, cool as a cucumber—his hands are not shaking. He’s totally fine.

Eddie’s smirk softens—just a little— “Then I’d say you and I should get out here, no?”

Steve nods. Fuck it. He’s trying something new.

[champagnefountains]

Oh my goodness your Lucifer fic is SO cute! You write him very well! (Exited for possible pt 2) I was wondering since your requests are open if you'd be willing to write something for either Lucifer or Alastor (or possibly both) with a short shy/anxious reader? Super fluffy plz if possible and you're interested!

Hi Anon! Thanks so much for your submission. I hope you'll enjoy what I came up with! I had fun with this one (it got me giggling and kicking my feet or something...)

Word count: 1.2k words. Kinda got carried away, my bad. Genre: (Tooth-rotting) Fluff. Established relationship. Warning: None.

LUCIFER MAGNE with a shy and short S/O:

Lucifer is quite short himself in comparison to a few demons. But, you? Being shorter than him? God, he’ll think you’re the cutest thing ever (plus, it was a massive ego boost on his part). And your timid nature only adds onto it. 

Expect him to be very touchy with you. There isn’t a second moment where he isn’t clinging onto or hugging you. Out in the public or even at the hotel, his arm would somehow always find its way wrapped around your shoulders or waist. He just wants to keep you close to him as much as possible, since you just seem to fit so snug and well in his arms. 

Lucifer loves it so much when you get all shy and flustered around him. His pride just flourishes whenever your face bursts into flames, especially knowing that it was because of him that you’re acting this way. He’ll tease you about it, but not too much because he cares for your poor heart. 

He also knows his million-dollar smile does wonders, so he’ll use it to his advantage. He’ll strike a smile or smirk at you out of nowhere when you would meet eyes, and he’ll revel in the way you’d melt so easily under his gaze. Though, it would be the same for him – his heart would burst with that warm-fuzzy feeling whenever you would send one of your precious smiles his way. This man is smitten and will worship you and the floor you walk on.

Is also super, super supportive of you whenever you get anxious – will do anything in his will to help distract you or alleviate any of your worries, whether it be just holding your hand, talking some nonsense to fill in the silence, or even flying you around to get some fresh air. He'll probably even have a duck-shaped stress ball for you to use whenever you get a bit fidgety.

Additional things I think Lucifer would do: he would give you a lot of forehead/head kisses; HE WOULD TOTALLY SET YOU DOWN ON A COUNTERTOP OR HIS DESK AND KISS YOU FR, OR HE'LL DO SO WHILST CARRY YOU WITH YOUR LEGS STRADDLING HIS WAIST I need self-control; he will shamelessly rant about how adorable you are in front of the others, even if they're all sick of it, 'cause he's just so proud to be your partner!

Lucifer found himself silently admiring you while you were all snuggled up against his chest. After another successful hard day's work, you spent the remainder of the night watching a couple movies together at the hotel’s lounge area.

Noticing a pair of eyes on your figure, you crane your neck up and with a small tilt of your head, you stare back at him in question.

The King suddenly felt his chest swell with so much love and affection for you. You didn’t even know how adorable you looked in his arms right now. Without warning, Lucifer dipped down and pressed his lips against yours, swallowing the surprised yelp that escaped your lips.

As you parted ways, Lucifer grinned widely as your cheeks noticeably began to redden. “W-What was that for?” You pouted.

“Sorry angel, but I just couldn't help it! You looked too cute – I couldn’t not kiss you then.” He stated matter-of-factly. He then leaned once again to press multiple pecks across your face – one on your forehead, on both your cheeks and another lingering one on your lips.

The out-of-the-blue affection had you swiftly burying your face into his chest, a poor attempt made to hide your embarrassment. You could only grumble in defeat as you felt the way his chest shook as he chuckled aloud, evidently amused by your flustered state.

ALASTOR with a short and shy S/O:

Not gonna lie, this man will be so annoying but in an endearing way.

Alastor would tease you endlessly about your height, since the difference would be quite significant – it usually consists of him resting an elbow or his arms on the crown of your head, leaning onto you like you were some sort of personal arm-rest. He personally finds it quite amusing, like a joke that never gets tired. 

Since he isn’t really a huge fan of PDA, he would often give you head-pats. It’s a small, simple gesture but it’s his way of showing affection out in public. He would also often have your arms looped around one of his own whenever you two would walk together, side by side. 

Behind closed doors, I can see him as the type to pull you between his legs, your back pressed against his chest whilst he reads the newspaper or a book in bed. He would then use your head or shoulders to rest his chin on, to peer over you. Sometimes he would even play with your hair, looping them around his fingers whilst he absent-mindedly hums a sweet, little tune. Again, a simple gesture but also very intimate. I'm literally melting just thinking about it. I feel like he would do something similar like this whenever you get anxious – if it helps, he would also make you some tea on the side, and even let you play with his hands/fingers.

Being the huge tease he is, Alastor just loves how shy you get around him. He's the type to say things like: "Dear, do you have a fever? You look a little flushed," or "My, my, your face may be redder than my suit!" just to see you get riled up even more. But if another demon were to talk smack about how shy you were, you will not see them live another day. That's a guarantee.

Additional things I think Alastor would do: he and/or his shadows would help you grab things from high places or would lift you up by the waist for you to grab them; out of pure instinct, he will for sure become extra protective of you; would be the big-spoon in most cases; would tease you by retracting himself using his height whenever you would lean in for a kiss.

Alastor was quick to pick up on a small habit of yours very early on – how you would always hide your smile behind your hands. When he brought it up one day, you sheepishly told him that you were insecure about your smile, which perplexed the deer-demon. 

Just like now, Alastor couldn’t help but raise a brow as you hid your grin behind your palm whilst you chuckled at one of his corny jokes. “Now, now, this won’t do, my dear!” He clicks his tongue, waving a disapproving finger at you, “why must you always hide that gorgeous smile of yours?” 

A blush suddenly breaks out across your cheeks. You unconsciously found yourself looking down, embarrassed by the flattering remark, only for his finger to guide you back up by your chin. He then leans in but stops only centimetres away, his face dangerously close to yours. 

Alastor’s grin only grew wider, seeing how helpless and small you looked – eyes widened like a deer in headlights, and yet filled with anticipation. You looked so, so nervous. And yet, it was so endearing that he wanted nothing more than to scoop you up in his arms. 

“Now, does the ground look much more entertaining than I, dear? I don’t think it can make you smile the way I do.” He teases, his voice intentionally dropping an octave deeper. God, he was going to be the death of you.

[tiredneutron]

Terrans

Humanity.

Listen well, for this is a tale of warning and of caution.

When humanity was first observed, many of the council thought they should be eradicated. A tumultuous and violent species who revelled in the destruction of their own kind. It was a close thing, but the council voted and humanity was allowed to develop - under the condition that none were to contact them until they were deemed ready.

Humanity never gave us the chance to do so.

They progressed their technology in timeframes yet unseen. They went from discovering electricity to landing on their own moon in a matter of decades - doing so with primitive technology, but it was a feat nonetheless.

From there they developed their own world - the space around their home planet Terra became a field of haphazard signals and messages, a bombardment of signals that interfered with our observational machinery. Due to this we weren’t ready when humanity ventured into the stars truly for the first time. They blasted themselves out of their atmosphere with controlled explosions of all things, their technology was nowhere near discovering antimatter coupling yet. Despite this they reached the edge of the quarantine zone within a matter of years, and we were discovered.

Despite our initial thoughts, humanity reacted very differently to us than expected. They didn’t wage wars on us, didn’t lay claim to our planets. They met us with unrestrained joy at finding others in the universe. They told us of their numerous attempts to reach out to us, and showed us some of their works of fiction that depicted how they imagined us (though they seemed to hide some others for reasons we couldn’t ascertain).

Humanity was welcomed into the stars, and they became commonplace. Their biology was baffling and their behaviour bizarre, but we accommodated them and they taught us how to work with them.

Centuries passed, and though the initial explorers were long gone, humanity had become a part of the council as low ranking members. Their species had become mostly peaceful, lowering their internal wars to less than skirmishes. Humanity’s violent and cruel nature seemed to have been tempered by the stars.

We were wrong.

From beyond the councils borders, beyond the observable space in the void, a threat appeared. They blasted through our sensors and demolished our border colonies in hours. Our intel on them was near zero due to the ferocity they annihilated our kin.

They reached the inner borders of the council, and the elder members prepared for a bitter battle. To our surprise, humanity asked to join the defence. They told us that their kin had settled on some of the border colonies, and that many had lost loved ones. We allowed humanity to join our last fight, even if we didn’t expect them to affect the battle.

We were wrong.

Many of my comrades who survived the battle have sleep terrors to this day. Not of the void settlers, but of the humans. The cruelty and viciousness we thought had disappeared from their culture came back with a vengeance. Who we had seen as scientists and farmers for centuries, comrades we had known for decades - they showed us that monsters don’t come from the void.

The void settlers never stood a chance. The council was barely able to get in formation before the battle was ended. If the void bringers tactics were ferocious, then the Terran’s were monstrous. For every ship they lost, every life they sacrificed, the void settlers lost a battalion, a planet’s worth of lives.

This loss brought the void settlers much shame and anger. They made a mistake that haunts me to this day. They used their speed to reach Terra before the council could relay to the humans the threat. Humanity watched as Terra split, as trillions of their families and non-fighting members were eradicated.

The fighting ceased. Humanity seemed to have frozen. Their fleets stopped dead in space and their communications went silent. Where humanity had been surrounded by wavelengths and frequencies that interfered with some technology still, the space around them became eerily silent, as though the death of the planet had killed even those off world.

The void settlers continued their attack on the council and disregarded Humanity. No need to worry about a broken opponent… Right?

They were wrong.

The Terran’s weren’t dead, or even broken. It was later revealed that the freeze had been due to grief. Humanity had lost its home world, but worse than that it had lost its peaceable citizens. The ones who should have been safe from the conflict.

All of humanity had watched, and all of humanity had grieved. But they were not broken.

The void settlers learnt this very soon.

Humanity descended on them in ways that made the last defence seem like a diplomatic discussion. We though we had seen the worst of humanity in our early observations. WE. WERE. WRONG.

Humanity has a saying “Hell hath no wrath like a woman scorned”, but the council has adapted it: “The void hath no wrath like a Terran without a home”.

The void settlers were routed from every planet they had taken. They retreated to the void leaving behind their technology and supplies, not even taking the time to recover some of their teams. But the humans didn’t stop.

In a move that the council had forbidden for millennia, the humans flew into the void. The entirety of the Terran race disappeared into the blackness beyond space and wasn’t heard from for longer than we had known of them.

The council mourned their losses, but viewed their final act as something done out of the madness of their loss. The Terran’s were remembered as warriors, as fighters, but also as family. They became known to those of us who’d seen them fight as “The angels of Death”.

I never expected to see a Terran again, assumed that the void had devoured them and their destructive grief with them. But one day a vessel I was onboard, tasked with assessing possible colonies to rebuild in the border planets - it detected something.

The frequencies and wavelengths of data that had only ever been human in nature. They were coming from the void.

The council watched as humanity emerged unexpected for the second time.

The flagship docked with our observation vessel, and the leaders came aboard to see us. I vaguely recognised the captain. Their features so slightly similar to the grief driven warrior we’d watched descend into the void. We asked what had happened, and the captain responded with the most chilling visage I had seen since the first footage of the void settlers. Their baring of their teeth was savage and joyous. So similar to the expression we saw at first meeting, yet so distorted. In that moment I saw what could have happened if the Terran’s had waged war on us.

“We won.”

[thatgenericwriter]

THE BET || GREGORY HOUSE

Paring: Gregory House x gn! reader

Summary: reader is a mortician at the hospital and gets into a little bet with House

Warnings: House (no explanation needed) and some swearing

Word Count: 1.1k

P.S. based on the request by @ryoiii (I'm sorry this took me so long to do I'm trying my hardest)

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Life was pretty mundane at your new job as a mortician at Princeton Plainsboro's Teaching Hospital. Being new to the city and hoping for a fresh start was fine, but man was it boring. Just you alone with your thoughts down in the basement of a huge hospital.

Until one day you met House in the cafeteria. He was sitting with Wilson, the doctor that Cuddy had assigned to show you around on your first day. You two had grown close over the two weeks you had been there. You would hang out in his office when there was nothing for you to do. And you guys would have lunch together most days. You saw him as the only friend you had made so far.

So it was no surprise when he called you over to his table after you got your food.

"Hey y/n, come sit!" You smile at Wilson and make your way over, taking note of the grumpy looking man, whom you assumed was Wilson's friend Dr. Gregory House. Which was made certain when you saw his cane leaning against his chair.

"Wilson! Paying to have your "friends of the night" visit you at work? That's low even by my standards!" Wilson slaps House's shoulder and scolds him before turning to look at you apologetically.

"It's okay Willson. House is just jealous because he knows he will never be able to afford me." You revel in the questioning look on House's face and the shocked look on Wilson's as you sit down on the chair next to him.

You open your yogurt container and take a bite before looking between House and Wilson questioningly.

"What? Can't handle the truth?" House smirks at you while Wilson sighs loudly beside you.

"Great another House. Just what I needed." Wilson shakes his head solemnly from beside you as you lean back in your chair eyeing the man across from you. 'This is going to be fun.'

.........

Ever since your encounter with House in the cafeteria a few weeks ago, you two have become inseparable. Whenever you don't have a body to tend to in the morgue you're in House's office. His fellows have become accustomed to seeing you in House's yellow chair tossing his ball around or doodling on his whiteboard.

They have also come to learn that if House is nowhere to be found, he is most likely down in the morgue with you. Which is where they found him today. But instead of finding him in deep discussion with you, they walk in on the two of you fighting.

"You can not have one of the bodies! Especially not with the intention of shooting them in the fucking head!" You went along with all of House's stupid ideas (that's what made him fun), but this was crossing a line. A line that put your job on the chopping block.

House was acting like the man-child he is, actually stomping his foot at you and crossing his arms like a toddler throwing a tantrum.

"But mommy please!" He had the audacity to stick his bottom lip out at you and that was your last straw. You look at him blankly and walk past him to the doors.

"Do whatever you want. I don't care anymore." You swiftly walk past his fellows who look at you with pity written all over their faces. You paid no mind to them and continued to the elevators. The last thing you saw before the doors slid closed was House staring at you with a look on his face that you'd never seen from him before. Remorse.

..........

That was about an hour ago. Now you are sprawled across Wilson's couch in his office chatting with him about the most random stuff. That was until the door slowly opened and House walked through.

You turn and face away from him not ready to talk to him quite yet. However, that didn't deter him from talking to you.

"I just came to say that I talked to Cuddy and made it known that anything I do should not affect your job. And that I will take responsibility for anything I do that involves the morgue." This was a surprise to you, and also to Wilson according to his face. When you still didn't turn to face House he continued.

"I also wanted to apologize to you for trying to make you do something you didn't want to get involved with." At this point, Wilson was sure he was having a stroke and you were sure that you had completely fallen for House.

You had been fighting the idea of having a crush on House since the very first week of being with him. Hearing about his lack of emotions and empathy for others strayed you away from pursuing a relationship with him. But after him taking responsibility for his actions and apologizing to you, how could you stay away?

You turn to him with the coldest look on your face that you could manage. "You think you can just come in here and give some half-ass apology and believe that I would forgive you just like that!"

You relish in the confused expression on Wilson's and House's faces before bursting out in laughter.

"Of course I forgive you ya goof!" You jump off of the couch and grab his hand pulling him out of the office.

"I bet ya his head explodes!" Slowing down to a speed that House can keep up with comfortably, you start to pull your hand away. House stops you, however, by interlocking his fingers with yours.

"I bet you he doesn't scream no matter what happens." House pushes the down button to call for the elevator with his cane before looking at you. You smile back at him and bump your hip with his slightly.

"That's not fair he's dead!" He smiles at you and bumps your hip back. The elevator dings and opens to reveal all of his fellows who walk out informing House that their "patient" is ready to be scanned. You watch as their jaws drop when they notice your intertwined hands.

You giggle and follow House into the elevator waving goodbye to his fellows as the doors slide shut.

"They are never going to stop talking about this." He looks at you and smirks.

"I guess I'm just going to have to hide out in the morgue more often. I wonder if there is someone alive in there to keep me company?" You smile at him pretending to ponder on his question.

"I think I know someone who works there that might be interesting to talk to." The elevator dings and the doors slide open. You pull House once again and start making your way to the MRI lab.

"Enough sappy stuff! Let's go kill a dead guy!" You look back at House and he just shakes his head at you affectionately.

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Author's Note: Guys im finaly done with school! (at least for the summer) and I'm planning on writing a lot more! please leave some asks and be patient with me as I am trying my best here😭😭😭

[jessjad]

Rightfully deceived

Chapter 1

Summary: When a marriage promise forces Y/N to step up for her younger sister, she gets something she always wanted. But when the truth comes out, her new husband Dean is not so happy about the mix-up. Will she loose it all? Or will she be surprised in the end?

Pairing: AU!Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 3487

Warnings: 18+ only!!! arranged marriage, lying, some nerves, smut, lost of virginity, first time

A/N: Ya'll get this chapter a day early, because I have two weeks off of work now! 🥳 Okay, here we go. Let's see how this wedding went down. All mistakes are mine! Enjoy! 😊

Series Masterlist My Masterlist

The day before...

"Please, Y/N! You need to help me out here."

The noise in the castle had become significantly louder after the guests had arrived two hours ago. Dean Winchester only had a few men with him, but that didn't make them any less loud. The wedding preparations were largely complete and soon they would have to go downstairs for the evening's feast.

But Helena didn't want to go down. She didn't even want to go through with the marriage the next morning. The younger woman was holding Y/N's hands like a plea with tears in her eyes and had just revealed her great plan of escaping the gruesome future their father had sold her to. Which were Helenas words, not hers.

Apparently she and the young man she was activly seeing in the last months wanted to elope and get married on their own. Y/N had known that these two were very fond of eachother, but she had never thought that it was that serious. Especially not when you have a man like Dean Winchester on your side that shows interest in you.

"Listen, Y/N... " spoke Helena again and brought her back out of her thoughts. "... there is now way this can go wrong. Noone's going to know until the next morning."

"Helena..."

"He won't see you until late in the night. If he's even able to get up the stairs to your bedroom after the wedding celebration." she tried to reason.

"But eventually he will find out that I'm the wrong bride!"

"But then you're already married!"

Y/N huffed and freed her hands out of her sisters grip. This was ridiculous.

"And you think that will make him soften and forget the fact that he got betrayed?"

Now Helena was a little lost for words. "Well... it's not... really betrayal..."

"Yes, it is, Lena! It is betrayal. And what do you think he will do with the arrangment he made with our father? Have you thought about that?"

Silence filled the room, but Y/N could see that Helena was a little fuming inside. Of course her sister did not think about the consequences of her actions and just wanted to do what she wanted. And as the older one Y/N should just say no. But this was Dean they were talking about. Her heart was a little biased here.

"I'm sorry. Y/N. But I'm not going to marry him. I love Peter and he will come and pick me up tonight."

"What?"

"I will be gone in the morning. And if you really care about me, you will let me go and help me out."

Over this revelation Y/N was just stunned and watched Helena turned around and leave the room.

Now...

They all had to be in the chapel in an hour and Helena had made her promise true. Last evening at the feast she was sitting next to Dean, talking to him and being her usual self. And to everyone else very visible, Dean was only even more fond of her as he already had been. It had broken Y/N's heart to watch the scene. Before they went to bed Y/N again had tried to reason with her, but as she knew her younger sister she remained stubborn.

"Where is your sister, Y/N?" her father came over and asked. "She needs to dress and her maid is nowhere to be found."

A little panic rose in her chest. As soon as she was awake, Y/N had looked for Helena, but she was really gone. If she was honest, she could not entirely blame her for going after her heart. She knew how it felt to be in love. It just had been the worst moment to do so. And now, she was running out of time.

"Just... sent Millicent to her. She can help her getting dressed."

Millicent was her own maid and once she was in Helenas room she would understand. Y/N made a decision then and there. After her father left again she ran as fast as she could over to her sisters room and hid in there, waiting for Millie. The dress and veil was already laying on the bed and her heart squeezed a little upon that sight. A knock on the door made her hide behind the screen before she asked who was outside. Whe she heared the voice of her maid she released a relieved sigh.

"Come in and close the door behind you." Y/N said and waited before she came back out from behind the screen.

"Mylady? What..."

"Let noone else enter the room until I'm fully dressed in the gown."

Whilst Millicent's eyes widened in surprise, Y/N already tried to get out of her own dress. After a few seconds of struggleling her maid rushed forward to help her.

"But why are you putting on the dress that belongs to your sister?"

With a small huff Y/N turned to her maid. In the safe space of an empty room with only them two alone in it, they could drop the formal speech and behave freely like the friends they had become over the years.

"She's gone. My sister's gone, Millie."

"What?" came Millie's shocked response. "When?"

Y/N finally stepped into the wedding dress and pulled it up her body over her shoulders. It was a beautiful dress. Red and gold. Expensive. Heavy. And she fitted barely into it. Not only was she a little shorter than her sister, Helena had always been the skinnier one of the two.

"Last night. She didn't want to marry Dean and ran away."

"With this Peter guy?"

"Yeah..."

Millie began to close the dress up on the back and Y/N started to think again. This would only be a temporary fix for the current situation. The calm before the storm.

"So... what is the plan?" the maid asked into the silence.

"Get through the day. Marry Dean... and hope he doesn't completely freak out tomorrow."

Millicent came back around, flatening the fabric on her shoulders before reaching for the veil. The two women looked at eachother for a moment and Y/N knew that her friend understood her internal struggle. She was the only one Y/N had told that she was in love with Dean and it dawned on both that this was going to be a big deal.

A sudden knock on the door startled them and Millie hurried to get the veil over Y/N's head just in time, before the door opened. Her father was stepping in to see if the bride to be was finally ready.

"Oh Helena... you look so beautiful." he smiled and looked so proud. Y/N' stomache started to turn.

"Thanks." she whispered and tried to mimic her sisters lighter voice.

"Well. it's time to go. Your husband is waiting!" he exclaimed excited and left the room again, totaly oblivious to the tension that had build up with every passing second.

Once the women were alone again, Y/N closed her eyes under the veil and took some deep breaths. But when she felt the veil lift a little she opned them back up again and saw Millicent look at her worried.

"Are you ready?" the woman asked quietly.

"No."

Dean's hands were warm. His smile was gentle and he looked really happy. And just for a second Y/N thought it was because of her. Looking up into his smiling face made her heart burst with love for this man who had no idea that he was getting betrayed right at this moment. And just like that the guilt sat in, making her feel bad for doing this in an instant.

"I do." she heard him say with his rich, dark voice before he turned his head back again to the woman by his side.

Now it was her turn to say it. The pastor was already finished with his speech and everyone was waiting for her to answer. She looked back into the room full of people she loved and cared about. Her father already beckoning her to say something with his eyes. She turned her head back to Dean and tears started to sting her eyes.

If he only would've looked at her more than once. If he only would've tried to get to know her too. Maybe he would've fallen in love with her as well. She was not like Helena. Not so pretty and skinny and beautiful. She knew that. But Y/N had always tried to engage in the conversations with him. To make him notice her, see her too. However, it never really worked the way she wished for. But at least for this moment, no matter how short it would be, she wanted to try and make him happy. She wanted to be the woman by his side.

"I do."

Dean felt good. Really good. He was married to a woman that he was truly fond of. She was younger, sure, but that did not seem to bother her too. And now, they could officially be together. To that he had to smile. He reached for his cup and drank a big sip of the whiskey, whilst he looked around the room.

The celebration of his wedding were only midway through, but Helena had already excused herself. She seemed to be a little nervous and obviously wanted to get a little alone time with the other women. He could not blame her. This night would be special, for both of them. Eventhough he already knew what was coming.

"You got a pretty big smile on there, brother."

At that Dean had to chuckle. His younger brother Sam sat down in the empty chair nex to his and sported a smug smile on his face.

"I'm married, Sammy. I've been waiting for this a little while."

"Yeah, but at home were women too that would've married you on the spot."

Dean did not need to ask who he meant. They both knew Sam was talking about Cassie.

"But I always wanted Helena. And now she's my wife."

They both cheered with eachother. Everyone was in a good mood.

"Are you happy?" Sam asked after a couple of moments and Dean turned back to his brother.

"Yes. Yes, I am."

Within the next hour the music got a little louder and people drank more and more. It was an exuberant evening. And even though Dean tried not to drink too much alcohol himself, he couldn't hold back because of the good mood. Sam stayed by his side the entire time and a few other of his men joined them to drink and celebrate. It was fun, but he still noticed something.

"Have you seen Y/N?"

Upon that question Sam let his gaze roam over the other participants, but he too could not see her.

"No. Why?"

"I don't know. It's just... I have not seen her all day."

"Okay... so what?" Sam asked. "She's probably busy with other things. She'll have to say goodbye to her sister tomorrow and she's surely with Helena right now." To that Dean nodded his head. "Just like her maid."

"Her maid?" now it was Dean's turn to look at his brother a little surprised. "You mean Millicent?"

"Urm... yeah... if... if that's her name." Sam answered and cleared his throat.

"Ooohh, Sammy! Do you like her?" Dean grined.

"No! Just... shut up." he protested, but the slight red tinge on his cheeks told otherwise.

Dean laughed and kept quiet. But only for a moment.

"Technically she would be older than you."

"Dean, I swear!"

"Okay, okay!"

The older Winchester held his hands up in defeat, but he could not stop the smile on his face. His brother was never a good liar.

Y/N had left the celebration shortly after the food was served. Her nerves had gotten the best of her. She was sweating under the veil and with Dean so close to her she had a really hard time not to give away that it was her and not Helena. But her husband had fun and she did not wanted to ruin it for him.

When she arrived at the new bedroom, Millicent was already there and had prepared a bath for her. The roaring fire in the fireplace had heated up the room nicely. Winter was starting to come around and the nights got colder and colder.

After getting out of the heavy wedding dress and sliding into the hot bath she felt like she could breath again. Millicent stayed with her until she was ready to fall face first into the bed and just sleep the day away. Which seemed to work, but not for long.

It was already late at night and the fire was out long ago, when Y/N heared the door opening to the now shared room. Heavy footsteps followed and she started to hold her breath. To her luck she was laying with her face to the door, away from the window. If she was honest to herself, she had hoped she would be left alone tonight. That Dean maybe would drink so much that he fell asleep in the dining hall. But it seems she was out of luck here.

He stumbled through the room, hitting his foot once or twice on the side of the bed. It was pretty cloudy so there was not much moonlight to illuminate the room. He kicked off his boots and it sounded like he sat down in the armchair near the window.

"Urgh... 'shouldn't have the last drink..." Dean slurred which was followed by a smacking sound.

The next thing she heard was fabric falling to the ground. That was it, right? Now it would happen. Her heart started to beat faster and when she felt the bed dip next to her, she tried to stay as still as possible. After a few seconds the room fell silent again. Only when she started to hear light snoring from behind her, she allowed herself to relax again and drift back to sleep.

The next thing that startled her awake was the warm feeling on her back. It had gotten cold in the room, it was still dark outside and she tried to lean in more into the warm feeling. The heavy arm that was laying over her middle hiked up a little higher, pressing her more to the warm chest.

Upon that realization Y/N opened abruptly her eyes, her heart starting to pick up speed again. But she was not the only one who was awake now. Dean started to kiss softly along her neckline and down to her shoulder. His lips touched her light as a feather and still it set her skin on fire. Then his scent hit her nose. He smelled like wood, whiskey and something warm.

What was she supposed to do now? Noone had really talked to her about every detail with this. What was expected from her and what she had to do. Dean's hands began slowly to explore her body. Careful and gentle. But as soon as his warm hand touched her bare leg she could not hold back a soft moan. His hands felt rough and a little calloused but still his touches were soft.

Dean layed one of his legs over hears so that she had to turn on her back. A little nervous again she did not look into his face. Yes, it was dark, but somehow she feared he would recognize her anyways. With soft fingertips on her cheek Dean turned her face towards him and touched her nose with his, before his lips landed on hers. This feeling was new and almost overwhelming.

On reflex she pressed her hands on his chest only to feel that he was not wearing any clothes. A thrill went through her veins and she let her hands wander over his firm, strong chest. Dean groaned softly and deepened the kiss. Surprised by his actions she opened her lips a little and the man waisted no time to let his tounge slip into her mouth. The only thing she could do was mimic his actions and it felt so good. She did not know if she was doing it right and if, Dean did not let it show.

Now Dean got more adventurous. He rolled on top of her, cageing her in with his arms and nestled between her legs. Y/N could feel something hard against her thigh and there was only one explanation what it could be. It made her feel funny between her legs and somehow it scared her a little. She broke from the kiss, taking deep breaths in and Dean seemed to sense the small change in her.

"Don't worry, sweetheart. I'll be gentle. I promise."

Y/N did not really know what he meant by that and before she could really think about it, one of his hands made their way down between her legs. Oh god, he was about to feel that something was going on there. She tried to close er legs but it was nearly impossible with him laying in between and holding her legs apart with his own.

Another moan left her lips when his fingers touched her sex, massaging her heated core and rubbing soft circles over a certain point that made her feel even better. She began to buckle her hips a little and Dean hummed satisfied before he kissed her again.

His hand picked up speed and she started to feel something build up deep withhin her. She felt one of his fingers enter her but it did not hurt. It only intensified this feeling that had her thriving underneath him now.

"That's it. Yeah, let me feel you."

Dean whispered in her ear and then she couldn't hold it anymore. The sensation was just to much to handle, her moans had become louder and louder and it felt like a hot liquid poured through her body and made her shake, before she collapsed. Her chest was heaving and for a moment she did not understand what had happend just now.

Dean kissed down her jaw to her collarbone and sucked the skin into his mouth. Slowly she came down from this high, but her husband did not stop just there. His lips sucking in her skin distraced her enough before she felt the pressure against her entrance. This was it. This was consummating the marriage.

"Take a deep breath for me." and she did as Dean told her.

With one calculated thrust of his hips he was deep insight her. There was a small sting of pain that did not fade away so fast, but the pressure inside her was the one thing that she really had to get used to. Dean held still, his hands were stroking softly through her hair and when he felt her relax again, he started to move.

Slow at first, so that she had time to adjust to him but that did not take long. He picked up his pace and with every move it started to feel good again. The pain turned into something more and then the coil and pressure in her middle was there again. Now Dean moaned louder as well and she held onto his shoulders.

Just when Y/N thought she could not handle it anymore, she felt Dean's movements get a little out of rhythm and his breathing got heavier. And with his last poweful thrust he took her with him over the edge again while he spilled his hot seed deep insight her with a groan. His forehead landed on her shoulder and Y/N stroked a hand through his hair. Dean kissed her again slow and sloppy, before he rolled down from her and layed on his back.

The slight disappointment that settle in on her upon losing the skin to skin contact with the man she loved, did not surprise her. This was not how she had imagined it, it was better. It was to much and not enough at the same time. So she tried to relish in this bliss that she felt and turned on her sight to face him.

Exhaustion was pulling on her and it got harder and harder to stay awake. Eventually she gave in and closed her eyes with the feeling of an heavy arm on her hip that pulled her close again.

When she woke up the next morning she felt good. Tired and a little sore, but good. The sun was already high up and provided a little warmth. She opened her eyes and saw Dean's face first. He was still laying on his side and supported his head on his hand, looking down at her.

She smiled and was ready to greet him, when the memories flooded back into her conciousness. Her eyes widened in shock as she heard him talk.

"And who do we have here?"

A/N: It all went well until... it didn't. 🙈 The cat's out. What will happen next? Let me know what you think. Feedback is very much appreciated! 💜

@chriszgirl92 @elenasalvatore1 @laurensfangirlingsideblog @moonxlightsworld @muhahaha303

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[vifilms]

❝ YES TO HEAVEN ❞ ✶ ABBY ANDERSON !

"CEO!ABBY DRABBLE"

★⠀warning y disclaimers — eighteen+, wlw sex, mommy!kink, fem!reader, poc!friendly (PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF IT ISNT AND I WILL EDIT), bi!reader, riding abby like a cowgrl, dom!abby, cheating!reader (not on abby), ceo coded!abby, strap r!receiving, abby having a dirty fucking mouth, mention of future voyeriusm, praise!kink if you blink, brief of mention of ass eating.

RAYNE RAMBLES ★ first abby!smut. this is very sloppy and i literally wrote this in less than an hour. it is what it is. hope you enjoy! please reblog if you like it.

You had a boyfriend. Maybe there should be guilt weighing heavily on you, yet it was nowhere to be found. God, you couldn't locate a bone in your body regretting it, not now — you didn’t think ever. He worked for her for fuck sake. 

Yet, as she had you on her bed, riding her cock while the party remained downstairs, not a pretty thought racing through this head of yours. All you could think about was her. Big, calloused hands on your waist, guiding you into a rhythm as she bucked her hips upwards into yours. 

“Abby, fuck, baby, you feel so good.” Your tits bounced for her, nipples she had teased and sucked, nearly making you cum with her tongue alone. The blonde couldn’t help but tweak them with a twist of her fingers, reveling in the moan you offered on a silver platter.  

“This is all I wanna do, all day. ‘Jus ride you.” You slurred out to Abby. She could hear how much she was affecting you. Your wet cunt crying from being fucked. She just wanted to eat you out again, and she would. Certainly not before she had you come again. 

“Yeah, pretty girl? We can make that happen.” You moaned out her name as she hit a particular spot, one your boyfriend couldn’t even find in his dreams. 

“You know what I want?” Before you knew it, Abby grabbed your phone and dialed your boyfriend’s number. “I want you to talk about to your boyfriend while I fuck my favorite cunt. you can do that for me, right? My good girl.” 

“Hi, hun.” Your grip remained on the phone as you half-heartedly gave a response as Abby positioned you on all fours, before sinking back into you. Eyes rolling to the back of your head as she did. 

“H-hi, sweetheart.” Abby was relentless as she fucked you, slowly pulling out until only the head of her cock was in, until she slammed all of her back in one thrust. Tears brought to your eyes as you tried to focus on the man you claimed to love, the sweet, dumb boy he always is. 

"Thank god you called, baby. Been looking for you everywhere.” Abby leaned her massive frame over you, kissing the back of your neck softly. as her pace increased, you felt so full of her, her hands slapping your ass now and then, knowing what the fuck that did to you.

“Yeah?” The question came out as a moan, more than a question. Abby giggled in your ear, knowing you were far too cock drunk to respond to her.

“Of course. Sorry. I worry just because of my boss, Abby.”

“Oh, really?” You questioned as Abby pulled away from you, hands gripping your waist as she settled into a rhythm you could barely handle. Intensely, pounding into over and over, at her mercy.

You were sure you were biting so harshly on your lip that you could taste the iron. 

“It’s stupid, really.” What was stupid was how easily Abby was manhandling you, her perfect little fuck toy bent to her will. She was moaning your name now, her heavy breath stuttering as the strap rubbed against her, and god, you could have cum right there.

“W-what is?” Now abby was thumbing your clit as her hips punished you. Fully settled in your pussy, as she fucks the sense right out of you.

“The guys at work told me to watch out for her. As soon as they saw the picture of you I kept on my desk, they said you were her type.”

Your boyfriend started rambling on but then Abby was whispering in your ear, “He’s not fucking wrong. I fucked this pussy the first day we met.” 

Abby’s filthy mouth leaves you light-headed and breathless.

“The darling boyfriend doesn't even know we fucked on his bed, does he? I guess you couldn’t tell him my pussy on yours feels better than his dick ever could. That would not be very nice, would it? My good fucking girl." 

Truly, after she whispered her sultry words you were gone. On the entire face of this god forsaken planet, you wouldn't be redeemed now. 

“So close, baby,” you murmured, forgetting he could hear you.

“What?” You asked. 

“Fuck. God.” The moans ripped out by her cock were music to her ears. 

“S-sorry, I meant, so close to being done here. I’ll meet you by the car?”

“Of course. see you soon, hun.”

As soon as you hung up, you threw the phone across the bed, and Abby pulled you up until you practically sat on her meaty thighs as she fucked you.

Her experienced hands grabbing onto your breasts, heavy in her hand as she felt your body convulse around her. Feeling yourself become closer and closer to your peak.

Her hips snapping harshly as she fucked you, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as she did. She applied more pressure to your clit, her thumb rubbing circles having you cry out the name she craved to hear.

“Mommy, please let me come. Fuck, I need it so bad.”

“I bet you do, pretty. but make me a promise?”

“Yes, mommy. Whatever you want. I’ll do fucking anything. I just want to come for you. Be your good girl.”

“Next time I’m going to eat out your beautiful ass in front of him. Wanna Give him a lesson on how you like it. Then I’m going to show him how you love to eat mommy’s pussy. would you like that baby? wanna eat my cum right in front of him?”

“Fuck, yes. Holy fuck.” Your body dropped, face first as white ropes of cum coated her cock, your body twitching violently. Abby still fucked you through it. 

“I’m coming, oh fuck. God, mommy, your cock feels so good.”

“You like that?” Her giggle taunted you. Making you love her for it. “I know you do, baby.”

“My legs spread out for you, pussy wet and ready. I can see it now. do you think he’ll cry? I hope he does.” she laughs cruelly.

“Now, come show Mommy how grateful you are.”

“But, he’ll come looking for me.”

“Yeah, I know.”

[beckyninja]

Together

Pairing: Demetrian Titus x FemReader

Warning: Things get a little spicy toward the end, but nothing explicit

Description: A sequel to Revelation, in the aftermath of the destruction of DeathWatch Kill Team Kasaeran on Kadaku, Titus's serf grieves and reminisces.

“Wait! Please tell me-”

The door hissed closed in your face and you heard the input of a locking code. You stood in a dark room. No one had bothered to light the candles. Voices and footsteps sounded from the hallway beyond.

But you had never felt more alone.

“Is he even alive?” You found yourself asking no one. 

Is Titus still alive?

Tears threatened for what seemed to be the hundredth time that day, ever since the news about Kill Team Kasaeran. You’d never forget Frigg’s wail of grief upon learning Ulfar’s fate. You wondered where she was right now. Did she miss you? Did anyone at the Watch Fortress care that you were gone?

Swallowing a surge of panic, you inspected the room and gasped in relief when your searching fingers found a bundle of matches on the floor. With the candles lit you realized you stood in quarters almost identical to the ones you’d shared with Titus for the past year.

The only difference was the insignia. An inverted omega marked nearly every surface, including the robes of the serfs who had brought you onboard this battle barge. The symbol of the Ultramarines.

You traced one with your fingertips. Titus had taught you much about the Astartes’ chapters you encountered. You knew to smile at Salamanders, steer clear of Black Templars, and be cautious around Space Wolves. 

Only once did he ever speak of the Ultramarines.

“You and I will have nothing to do with them, Little Healer.” 

You were no fool. You’d had your suspicions about his past. And now you stood on one of their ships.

But, why? If he was gone, then surely you would have been given another position in the Watch Fortress. Assigned to another Astartes, perhaps.

“Emperor,” you sank to your knees, “please, please.”

He can’t be gone. 

***

Months Earlier

You jerked awake, thoughts muddled. Shoving blankets and pillows aside, you sat up in what Titus referred to as your “nest”. The artificial light remained off, and only a few stubby candles flickered. Still the night cycle.

You rubbed your eyes and tried to remember what had awoken you. Then you heard it. Deep, panting gasps, almost animal-like in their intensity. The chemical tang of Astartes sweat filled the air. 

“My Lord?” You yawned.

“...go back to sleep, Little Healer.”

Something in his voice worried you, and you scrambled out of your pile of cloth. Or tried to, anyway. A pillow shifted under your feet and you tumbled back into your nest with a yelp. 

A strained huff from the cot. “Clumsy.”

Grumbling and now fully awake, you stood, straightening your sleeping robe around you. “Are you all right, my Lord?”

“Yes.”

He did not sound all right.

In the dark, your thighs hit the edge of the cot and you toppled forward, hands landing on scarred, warm skin. 

“I’m so sorry, my Lord! I just wanted to- eep!”

Hands came out of nowhere, dragging you up and forward until you sprawled on what could only be an impossibly large chest.

“Titus?!”

“Stay.” This close, you heard the unsteadiness in his voice. “I need….”

You understood. “Nightmares?”

A deep sigh was your only answer. Something bumped the top of your head, pressing into your hair, and you felt a warm rush of breath.

“Your scent is… calming.”

“Um. All right, then.” You hoped he didn’t notice the way your breath quickened. 

***

Present

Time passed. The voices and footsteps outside your room ebbed and flowed, but no one came to unlock the door. 

You prayed. You drank water from the sink in the lavatory. Prayer. You lit a few more candles. More prayer. Finally, worry succumbed to sheer boredom and you rose from aching knees.

The silent serfs who’d brought you here had also brought Titus’s chest. A good sign. Why bring his belongings if he was… if he….

You pushed the thought away. 

Kneeling before the chest, you put your shoulder to the lid and heaved it open with a groan. Titus’s Death Watch pauldron met your eyes first. You traced the engravings and cringed when your fingers came away sticky. 

They didn’t even bother to clean it!

With an indignant huff, you rummaged further for your cleaning supplies, but touched worn leather instead. A pair of gloves. 

***

Months Earlier

The fork slipped from your cold-numbed fingers onto your plate with a clatter. “Oh, Throne damn it!”

Frigg slapped hand on your shoulder. “Don’t fret. Ye’ll get used to it soon enough. Why, with how hot Astartes run, ye should be grateful the powers that be keep the Fortress as cold as it is. Otherwise only the Salamanders would be happy!” She chortled at her own joke.

You rubbed your hands together, but the heat from the friction faded all too quickly.

“It wouldn’t be so bad if I had-”

“I know.” Frigg rolled her eyes. “Allfather’s Balls, lass. I told ye I’d see if I had a spare pair to lend ye, didn’t I?”

“You did. A standard month ago.”

She waved a dismissive hand. “It’s good for ye to toughen up a bit.”

You sighed and tried to grasp your fork again. At this rate, you’d starve to death.

Another serf scrambled into the dining hall. “Astartes coming!” He hissed. “Black Templar in a foul mood!”

Frigg swore in Fenrisian and pulled you to your feet. “Eyes and head down, lass.”

You obeyed as armored boots pounded into the hall. For a long moment no one moved or spoke, and the cold crept back into your bare fingers. Without thinking, you tucked them inside your robe.

“You!”

Your head shot up to meet the gaze of the Templar. “M-my Lord?”

“You dare prioritize your own comfort in the presence of an Angel of the Emperor?”

“N-no-”

“And now you compound your sin with lies? Come here!”

Frigg shot you a look of pity as you shuffled toward the seething Astartes. His armored gauntlet grasped the back of your robe, dragging you upward. The collar jerked tight around your throat.

“You will be punished for your insolence, woman.”

“Unhand her, Beren.”

With an oath, the Templar dropped you and pivoted to face the second Astartes to enter the dining hall. “This is what comes of coddling serfs, Nullus. Sin and insolence!” 

Titus ignored him and reached out a hand to you, lifting you to your feet. “Are you hurt, Little Healer?”

“No, my Lord.” You smiled up at him, almost melting with relief.

Beren snarled. “If she were my serf-”

“But she is not..” Titus turned and took a step closer to the Black Templar, his voice lowering to a growl. “She is mine.”

A wave of heat washed over you at the words. 

Beren snarled something unintelligible and stomped away. Titus huffed a breath through his nose.

“He never takes well to losing in the sparring ring.”

You bit back a nervous giggle. “Thank you, my Lord.”

He glanced down at you, one corner of his mouth twitching upward. “I brought you something.”

In his gauntlet lay a pair of worn, leather gloves.

***

Present

More time passed. The door remained locked. Your stomach cramped with hunger. 

You’d scrubbed Titus’s pauldron until it gleamed. Then you’d scrubbed everything else in sight. You’d prayed more, but the Emperor didn’t seem to be listening. 

Your mind whirled with awful scenarios. Everyone had forgotten you. One day someone would open the door to find nothing but your withered corpse. And the worst of all….

Titus was gone.

Gone.

Gone.

Gone.

You crawled onto the cot and wrapped yourself in his red cloak, the same red cloak you’d noticed when you first saw him back on your homeworld. His scent surrounded you. 

Safety. Companionship. And more.

So much more.

***

One Week Ago

When Titus kissed you, your mind went blank. You didn’t know what to do. Except kiss him back.

He pulled you to him, pressing your body to his. You felt the difference in your sizes like never before. He could do anything he wanted to you. The thought should be terrifying.

But it was Titus. You ran your hands up his bare chest, running your fingers over his scars and tracing the metal ports. You’d touched him before, of course, when he clung to you after his nightmares.

This time felt different. When he pulled away, you whimpered.

“Little Healer….”

The rasp of his voice made you tremble. He cupped your face and you saw uncertainty, desire, and something deeper in his rich brown eyes.

“Did you mean your words just now?”

Love. You’d said you loved him. Some part of your mind whispered words of caution, of the perils of the door you were about to open.

“I meant them with all that I am, Titus. I love you.”

For the first time since you’d met him, he smiled.

You kissed him then. He grunted in surprise, then chuckled, arms wrapping tight around you and lifting you off your feet. His mouth moved from your lips to your throat and you felt the brief brush of teeth.

“You are mine. Say it.”

Molten heat rushed through your body. “Yours. I’ve always been yours, Titus.”

“Call me by my given name.”

“Demetrian….”

“Throne!” He growled.

The world spun and you felt your back hit the thin mattress of his cot. He loomed above you, massive body outlined in the flickering candlelight. For a moment he reminded you of one of the predatory cats of your homeworld, poised to strike and devour.

But he hesitated. Uncertainty crept back into his eyes.

“Do you want this?”

You reached up to him. “Demetrian….”

He actually shivered at your touch, eyes closing tight. “I… I must hear you say it.”

“I want you, Demetrian. I’ve wanted you for so long.”

He groaned. “As have I.” With hands that you swore trembled slightly, he slowly pushed your robe off your shoulders. “So soft, so small… I will be gentle, my love.”

And he was. 

***

Present

That had been the night before he left for Kadaku. 

You remembered waking to him shifting out from under you on the cot. He’d seen you wince as you tried to rise and gently pushed you back. You remembered the touch of his hand on your face as he told you to rest.

He would come back to you, he swore. He kissed you and was gone.

Then the terrible news. The arrival of the Ultramarines. Your transport to this battle barge, to this locked room. Days ago.  

Was this punishment? Had the Emperor deemed your actions a transgression against Him?  

You buried your face in the red cloak and collapsed onto your side. The cramping of your stomach intensified. You felt weak, but found it hard to care. You’d gladly starve to death if it meant your soul could find his again. 

If you could be together again.

The door hissed open. You heard a muttered oath, then the clanking of armor. 

“Little Healer.” His face appeared in front of yours, creased with worry. “They locked you in here?”

You reached for him, and he lifted you. “I have little time, but I will get you to the infirmary.”

“You’re alive.”

“They did not even tell you-,” he growled. “Warp take them all.” His arms tightened around you. “I was wounded. I awoke in the Apothecarion earlier today.” He paused. “I am… different now.”

You pressed your face against his armor, his blue armor. “You’re alive.”

“I am, my love. I came back to you.”

Together, you thought as you slipped into unconsciousness, as we always should be.

@remembrancer-of-heresy @solspina @sleepyfan-blog @moodymisty @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

@bispecsual @kit-williams @cosmic-cryptid-from-beyond @adhd-fandom-hyperfocus @lemon-russ

@justeverythingnothingelse @scriberye @bleedingichorhearts @c-u-c-koo-4-40k @mooniequeen

@passionofthesith @noncon-photobomb @sinistermojo @b-rabbitboss @vyzz-undercover

[greensagephase]

Nonviolent Communication - Part 21

Pairing: Spider-Man!Miguel O'Hara x Spider-Woman!Reader Summary: Día de Los Muertos, year three. Word Count: 11.6k Warnings: possible second hand embarrassment at the beginning; a new character introduced; some Spanish, but translations are in-text; mention of deceased loved ones; fluff and more fluff; face painting due to the celebrations; I think that's all??? 🤭 A/N: Hiii, just want to remind everyone that three new chapters were posted in early October. I know some readers missed one or two because the algo sucks, so check this post out to access all three chapters just in case you missed one! Music Inspo: "Cuando Vuelva a Tu Lado" - Eydie Gormé, Los Panchos "Recuérdame (Arrullo)" - Gael Garcia Bernal, Lucy Hernández "Remember Me (Lullaby)" - Gael Garcia Bernal, Gabriella Flores, Libertad García Fonzi Masterlist

Part 21

You look around your apartment, making sure your place looks decent for the hundredth time. It smells good, you know that. Miguel told you so when he arrived earlier for breakfast with you. Unfortunately, he had to leave because you have a guest coming.

With a sigh, you return to your small kitchen to look at the coffee pot and freshly baked pastries you made for the occasion.

Despite spending the night in Nueva York at Miguel’s penthouse, you came back to your own place to bake because you’re expecting a person you never thought you’d be welcoming into your apartment ever again: Harry Osborn.

It’s been some time since you’ve seen him and ever since then, you decided to give him another chance. After debating for so long, you felt that it was right. At least, a part of you does. You have a feeling that neither Miguel nor the rest of the spider gang are happy with your decision because of Harry ditching you when you needed someone the most. You don’t blame them. If you were in their shoes, you’d probably dislike Harry, but well, you’re not in their shoes and you know Harry personally. There’s history with him, all the way to elementary school years. How can someone ignore that? Yet again, Harry did once, you suppose. You ultimately decided to do this for Peter, for his sake.

You figured he’d be open to giving Harry another chance, to maybe find out what happened, though that’s not a revelation you’re searching for right away. You’re sure with time, Harry will share the reason for his abrupt exit from your life. You’ve wondered already what the reason or reasons were, but none of your own explanations make sense. There was never a reason for him to do such a thing; to walk out of your life like you were no one to him.

There were no signs and that’s what made it hurtful, even if you were planning on cutting ties with him anyway when you thought you were doing everyone in your circle a favor by shutting them out. It came out of nowhere, just like your encounter with him that day at the flower stand, and now, you’re waiting for him to arrive to your home once more, so many years later.

You wipe the counter with a kitchen towel, feeling a bit anxious about this considering you’re practically strangers. Sighing heavily, you wish you were either going to be alone for the next hour or so, or back in Nueva York with Miguel at the penthouse.

You look at the spot where Miguel sat earlier during breakfast, the seat now empty. The two of you agreed that it was too soon for him and Harry to be introduced, at least in person and formally, so Miguel left about fifteen minutes ago.

That’s why you’re waiting for Harry alone, even though you wish you could’ve gone through the same multidimensional portal Miguel, who looked equally unenthusiastic about leaving you, opened. He didn’t say anything, but you could see and sense the hesitation. He didn’t want to leave you alone, but he had to.

Your cleaning ceases when you hear a knock at the door, realizing Harry is here. Breathing in and then out, you make your way to the door and look through the peephole to confirm. Seeing it’s Harry, you unlock and open the door with hesitation.

In front of you, Harry stares back at you, dressed in a business suit despite the fact that it’s Saturday, the second of November — Día de Los Muertos [Day of the Dead]. You notice he’s holding a bouquet of pretty flowers, but you don’t pay any more attention to it beyond that. Meeting your gaze, Harry offers a small smile, which you return.

Then, at the same time you offer your hand for a handshake, Harry steps in for a hug. He ends up running into your hand, freezing at the formal gesture before backing away in embarrassment.

“Sorry -” you start, lowering your hand.

“No, I’m sorry. I don’t know why I did that,” Harry apologizes with an awkward smile. He steps back again and then, simply offers the flowers. “These are for you. I was driving by the same little flower stand we ran into the other day, and I thought some flowers would be great since your building is back and running. Well… has been for a bit, but since I just arrived to the states, you know…” Harry trails off.

“That’s thoughtful of you, thank you,” you answer, carefully taking the flowers. “Come in.” You gesture for him to enter, closing the door once he’s inside. You lead the way to the kitchen. “Please take a seat. I have some coffee and freshly baked pastries.”

Behind you, Harry thanks you as he settles on the kitchen counter, taking one of the two chairs — Peter’s, or at least the chair that used to be his. “It’s so great to see you again,” Harry starts as you find a vase to place the flowers in. “I… Thank you for — for calling me back. I know you needed some time to think about it, and I… I’m grateful to have heard back from you. To be here after all this time.”

“I’m glad to have you here,” you answer, giving Harry a smile before continuing to fix the flowers. “Thank you for the flowers, by the way. They’re lovely.”

“Of course, I’m glad you like them,” he answers.

“Coffee?”

“Yes, please,” Harry replies, prompting you to withdraw two mugs from a cupboard, even though you already had one coffee with Miguel. You carefully pour the fresh coffee and fix some pastries on a plate before placing everything on the counter.

“It smells great in here,” Harry comments, flashing you a grin when you place the mug in front of him. “It always smelled amazing here though, with your great baking.”

You hum and offer a smile, staring at the man you never thought you’d see in this apartment again. Seeing him sitting in front of you, with the rest of the apartment behind him is a strange sight. You can’t help but think that Harry looks out of place, even though there was a time in which he visited this place every weekend. He was once in photos that decorated your gallery wall, too. You swallow subtly. “Thanks. It’s the baking. It’ll make your home smell great for hours. And, the oven will warm up the place — so it’s perfect for the colder months, too.”

“Yeah, I can see that. It’s so cozy in here. It always was,” Harry says, looking around the kitchen for a few seconds, observing, or perhaps remembering the days he used to come over.

You’re about to respond with another weak answer when there’s a knock at the door. You both look equally surprise to hear it.

“Are you expecting someone else?” Harry asks, looking over his shoulder and at the door.

“No,” you answer, putting your mug down and walking around the counter towards the door. “Let me see who it is. Might just be a neighbor,” you add, reaching the door. You peek through the peephole, feeling your spider senses act up probably out of the nervousness and awkwardness from this get together. You step back, unlocking the door while looking at Harry. “It’s your… Chauffeur? Butler?”

“Felix?” you hear Harry ask as you open the door to face the older man.

“Hey,” you start softly. “Come in. Is something wrong?” you ask, wondering if there’s an issue.

Brown eyes thoroughly scan your face, as if memorizing it. You remember this is the first time the man has seen you up close, so you disregard his focus on your face.

“Felix?” Harry says, standing next to you now. “What’s wrong?”

“Forgive me, sir,” Felix says looking at Harry to address him before turning to you. “And ma’am. Nothing is wrong. I noticed Mr. Osborn left his wallet at his apartment and decided to bring it to him since he’s driving.”

“Oh, I could’ve sworn I did pick it up,” Harry says while Felix retrieves the wallet from his own suit. “I guess I was a little… Never mind. Thank you, Felix,” Harry continues, accepting the wallet and tucking it away. “Shouldn’t be driving around without a driver’s license, huh?” he asks, looking at you with a sheepish smile.

“Certainly not,” you answer, still standing there, feeling Mr. Felix’s eyes on you. “You don’t want a ticket.”

“Definitely not,” Harry responds. “Thank you, Felix. As always, you’re a lifesaver.”

“Happy to help, sir. I’m sorry for my sudden appearance. I hope you and Ms. Y/N don’t mind the interruption,” the man says, lowering his face slightly as a form of apology before straightening again. “I shall leave you two now and return to my duties.”

“We don’t mind,” you answer, giving him a nod of understanding. “It’s kind of you to have brought Harry his wallet.”

Felix turns to face you, eyes meeting yours. You silently decide he’s about fifty years old or so, based on his demeanor at least. He nods back. “Just doing my job, ma’am, which I take very seriously.”

“Too seriously, sometimes, Felix,” Harry says with a bit of a chuckle, clasping his hand over the man’s shoulder. “He’s a great man, Y/N. He’s been working with me for years and I don’t plan to let him go until he decides to retire, which he states he has no plans on doing, so, he’ll be my right hand indefinitely.”

Offering a smile, you extend your arm to formally greet him, a sight that makes Harry wince internally when he remembers the awkward moment you both had earlier when he arrived. You introduce yourself and shake the man’s hand when he accepts yours.

“Felix. Felix Kerr,” he introduces himself, giving you a firm handshake while holding your gaze. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, ma’am. I have heard nothing but wonderful things about you from Mr. Osborn and his father.”

“Pleased to meet you, sir. And that’s kind of you, and of Harry and Mr. Osborn,” you reply, withdrawing your hand and turning to Harry. “We’ve known each other since elementary.”

“A long time,” Harry says with a grin before he remembers that you’re not so acquainted with each other anymore. As if sensing his boss’s change, Mr. Kerr nods at him.

“I’ll be at the apartment, sir. Please notify me if you need anything.”

“Thank you, Felix. I doubt I will, but I appreciate it. Careful on your way back,” Harry softly says.

“Will do, sir. Ma’am,” Mr. Kerr addresses you once more, nodding at you before turning on his heel and leaving.

“Sorry about that,” Harry says as you gently close the door.

“It’s no problem, no need to apologize,” you answer. “You needed your wallet. Please, take a seat. Again,” you say with a soft amused smile, trying to break down the awkwardness. “Before the coffee and pastries gets cold.”

You both reach your previous spots again now that his personal assistant, or whatever title Mr. Kerr has, is gone.

Harry picks up his mug and takes a sip, smiling at you. “It’s great. Thank you for it.”

“You’re welcome.” You smile slightly, twirling a spoon in your coffee. “So… How was your trip? Did everything go smoothly?” you ask, hoping to make conversation, which you succeed because for the next thirty minutes, Harry tells you all about his trip from the elegant and luxurious hotel he stayed at, the food he ate, a brief summary of the business dealings, and what he did on his free time. You try to ask questions to keep the conversation going, showing interest. You figure this is a good way to begin to know the man in front of you again.

“But enough about me. What have you been up to? How was your move-in?” Harry asks once he’s done telling you about the different historic locations he visited on his free time.

“It went well. Smoothly,” you state. “I had to clean, a lot, but it didn’t take me too long.”

“That’s good to hear,” Harry says nodding, turning on his seat to look at the living room. “You had… help, I hope?”

You look at the living room, not answering for a few a seconds. “Yeah, I did. Thankfully,” you answer simply, not providing any more information beyond that, like how it was Miguel who helped you clean.

Harry hums and stands up, walking closer to the living room, still looking around. “It looks so different,” he murmurs. “Despite the fact that it’s still the same place.”

“Yeah… It’s been some time since you were here,” you reply, opting to keep to yourself that only over a year ago you redecorated the place for the first time. You don’t want Harry to know that you kept the apartment the same for years after Peter’s death, from the furniture to the placement of objects.

“I know,” Harry replies with a sigh, moving to touch the couch. “You’ve changed the couch.”

“I did,” you say, remembering that the old one is still at Miguel’s place in storage. Staring at the new one, you realize maybe it’s time to fully depart with the old one. You haven’t even thought much about it. You suppose it’s true what some people say: out of sight, out of mind. Perhaps much like you’ve been for Harry and him for you. “It was time to replace it, unfortunately.”

Harry nods and turns around, his eyes landing on the gallery wall where photos that included him used to be displayed. Now, there are photos of your new friends. With interest, Harry gazes at them, walking closer.

You watch him carefully, knowing this will be the first time that Harry looks at the entire spider gang and Miguel.

“Are these — Are these your new friends?” Harry asks.

“Yes,” you simply answer, moving so you can look at the photos, too. Your eyes spot the various photos that you left up since you made sure to remove every single photo in which you or any of your friends are wearing their super suits to avoid revealing your super hero identity and raising suspicions.

Harry nods again, his eyes stopping on a photo specifically — the one of Miguel and you with Mayday from New Year’s Eve. “Hm… That little kid again. What was her name again?”

“Mayday.”

“Mayday, that’s right…” Harry trails off, still staring at the photo.

Based on his interest, there’s no doubt in your mind that Harry is wondering about the man next to you in the photo, the one with the little kid on his shoulder.

“Is that her dad?”

“No. That man isn't her dad. Her dad's name is — “ you pause when you almost say Peter's name, realizing it might be weird for Harry to hear that you befriended a Peter after your own. “Benjamin. He's a good friend of mine along with his wife.”

“Benjamin…” Harry hums at that. “Is this ‘Mig’?” Harry asks, reminding you of your first encounter with him at that flower stand after years of not seeing each other. You were grocery shopping with Mayday and after a bit of conversation, Harry invited you to a coffee shop for a drink. It was there that Harry asked about your living situation because he had learned about the fire to which Mayday eagerly replied with ‘Mig’ — unfortunately revealing that you were staying at someone’s place. Thankfully, Harry didn’t prod for answers then. You recall his answer to Mayday’s simple response was that as long as you were safe, that’s all that mattered.

Now, it seems that Harry wishes to know more, especially now that he’s seeing all these new faces on your gallery wall. It must be strange for him, you realize, to see that the people you both knew once — laughed, ate, shared jokes and memories with — are no longer part of this space, and instead, there’s all these new people that are now your family, but strangers to him.

You stare at the photograph, at Miguel specifically. There’s no point in denying, or withholding information when you’ve left all these photographs out. You didn’t want to hide them. Hiding them would mean hiding the people who’ve brought you so much happiness, who have become your family. It didn’t feel right to hide them, the small family who took you in when you were all alone and helped you be where you’re now, not even to protect the feelings of the stranger in your living room who you once knew so well.

“Yes, his name is Miguel,” you finally say, not providing a last name. “And he’s my best friend,” you add, with a firmness and pride that leaves no doubt in Harry’s mind that you mean those words with every fiber of your being.

He turns to face you, tearing his gaze away from the man, Miguel, who seems to be in a lot of pictures with you. He hasn’t failed to notice that, of course. He'd be blind to not notice that Miguel makes up a big portion of your gallery wall.

In fact, the number of photos this Miguel is in, is the same amount as Peter, your Peter.

“Your best friend,” Harry repeats, with that thought on his mind. This man is your best friend, and he along with Peter, make up the majority of your gallery wall. This man is part of the gallery wall just as much as Peter, your previous best friend and lover, is. That thought makes Harry grow still before his eyes flicker to your left hand for a second, as if searching for something. His gaze returns to your face when he finds nothing special, yet the idea doesn’t abandon his head entirely. “I’m glad you have people to rely on,” he continues some seconds later, giving you a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, though you don’t notice that. “They seem like good people.”

“They are. They’ve been an amazing support system over the last few years,” you answer, turning to the gallery to scan your friends’ faces. A smile, one so warm and gentle, so tender, forms on your face.

“You truly seem happy,” Harry comments, taking notice of the smile. “I’m happy for you.” After a pause, Harry turns to the photos again. “So… This is who you were staying with… This Miguel?”

“Yes,” you simply reply. “With Miguel.”

Nodding once more, Harry turns to face the photos again. His eyes scan every photo with the man. There’s the one with you and him and Mayday on New Year’s Eve. There’s the two of you putting together some kind of furniture piece, which Harry quickly realizes is the new bookshelf in your living room.

The realization leads Harry to register the truth — this man is important to you and ingrained in your life, so much he's helped you build furniture for your apartment’s new look, which seems like a too personal task. A task that only close friends, or a boyfriend, would do. At least, in his mind it seems that way.

Harry continues to look at the photos before his phone begins to ring, startling the two of you. He apologizes for the interruption before taking the call.

Remaining in the same spot, you listen silently. It seems to be about work.

“I’ll be there soon,” you hear him say quietly. “See you in a bit. Bye.”

Hearing him end the call, you turn to face him. “Everything okay?”

“Yes… Yes, everything is okay. I just — I must go. Something came up at work,” Harry says, his tone apologetic. “I’m needed, so I must go now. Being the boss's son sometimes means work on Saturday. I’m sorry for how abruptly I’m departing.”

“That’s alright. I understand. Work is work,” you answer, genuinely. “Do you want some of the pastries to go?”

“I — Do you mind?” he asks, slipping his phone into his jacket’s pocket.

“Not at all,” you say, quickly entering your small kitchen to pack some of the pastries for him. In seconds, you gather a few pieces and wrap them up for him to take. “Here you go.” You hand him the package. “I hope you enjoy them. Maybe you can give one to your dad. Tell him I said hi, by the way.”

Harry takes the package and nods. “Thank you so much. I will. I told him I was coming here, so he knows. He was happy about it,” he says, giving you a smile before you both move to the door. Harry’s strides are long and quick, so much his handkerchief falls to the ground without his knowledge.

You stop and pick up the dark green piece of fabric. “Harry, you dropped your handkerchief.”

“Oh, I didn’t even realize,” Harry says, turning around to take it from your extended hand. He easily slips it back in place. “Thank you. For that, and for the coffee and pastries. And for having me here, in your home.” He looks down at the package with pastries, trying to formulate the words before speaking. Once he gathers his thoughts, he looks up at you again. “Thank you for the chance you’ve given me — You have no idea how much it means to me, Y/N. Thank you,” he gently states, stepping closer and looking at you.

“It was nice having you here,” you answer genuinely despite everything. “I hope you enjoyed the coffee and pastries, and of course… You’re welcomed here.”

Harry smiles slowly at you before he steps closer. “May I… May I hug you?”

You nod slowly, agreeing to it, and that’s all Harry needs. He carefully wraps his arms around you, placing his chin on your shoulder.

Not knowing what else to do, you hesitantly place your hands on his shoulders from beneath his arms, staring at the ceiling and feeling weird about hugging Harry after all this time.

You close your eyes slowly and think about all the times you’ve hugged your friends, the spider gang, before you think of someone else. Unbeknownst to Harry, you think about hugging that someone else: the man in your photos Harry kept staring at, Miguel.

You frown slightly. You got a hug from Harry Osborn, someone who hasn’t been in your life for years, before you got a hug from Miguel, your best friend.

At last, to your relief, Harry pulls back and so do you. You offer him a smile. “Go. Work calls.”

Reaching the door again and opening it, Harry gives you another smile. “Yeah, I must get going. Thank you again for everything. Be careful alright?” he says, already halfway out, his gaze sweeping over the place once more, thinking about the new look of your apartment and the fact that Miguel helped you — that that man has been here in your home and helped you redecorate it.

“Will do,” you reply as he begins to close the door. “You, too.”

“I will,” Harry says, waving goodbye and beginning to close the door, but stopping at the last second. You stare at each other for a few seconds. “I’ll see you soon, Y/N?”

You nod your head, confirming. “Yes, soon.”

“I’m relieved, thank you. Take care.”

“You, too,” you answer, waving goodbye.

With that, Harry finally closes the door. After a few seconds, you lock it and sigh, leaning on it. That was a bit awkward.

You finally push yourself off the door and clean up the kitchen before you hang the other photographs back on the wall. Over half an hour later, you change into your suit and slip out of your apartment for a quick patrol of your city, trying to clear your mind after meeting with Harry.

You swing around the city for almost an hour, stopping a bank robbery and a petty criminal from stealing someone’s purse in that time span. You eventually travel to Nueva York, where Miguel waits for you at the penthouse.

“Hiiii,” you say, offering a smile to Miguel as soon as you step out into the living room. You find him carefully laying out some of the decorations for his ofrenda [Day of the Dead altar] on the coffee table, preparing.

Hearing your voice first before he sees you, Miguel smiles and turns to face you. “Hey, how did it go?”

You sigh and sit down on the couch. “It went.”

Chuckling, Miguel sits down across from you as well, deciding to take a break to give you his full attention. “Was it that bad?”

“When he first arrived, he was going for a hug and I offered him a handshake,” you confess, feeling a rush of embarrassment at that. You press your hands to your forehead and sigh. “So embarrassing. And awkward.”

Miguel offers you a small smile of understanding, though his interest perks up when he hears Osborn went straight for a hug. He clears his throat. “That sounds uncomfortable. How did you handle it?” he asks, curious to know if you eventually hugged Osborn.

“We apologized to each other, and then, he gave me some flowers he brought,” you state, leaning back on the couch.

Flowers? Miguel watches you lean back, noticing the little get together got to you a bit. He hums, thinking about the interaction.

“We talked for a bit about his business trip over coffee and pastries. He eventually looked around the living room and saw my gallery wall. He asked about you,” you continue to share.

“He did?” Miguel asks, intrigued by that.

“Yes. He remembered that Mayday mentioned a ‘Mig’ that day we ran into him at the flower stand. He looked at one of the photos of you and I with Mayday, one from New Year’s Eve. He asked if you were ‘Mig’ and I confirmed it. I told him your name — just your first one — and that you’re my best friend.”

Hearing you say that, and the way you say it so proudly, brings a gentle blush to Miguel’s cheeks. He smiles fondly at you, elated with the fact that you told Osborn about him. Miguel silently wonders what Osborn thought about him and the rest of your friends, however.

“After that, he said he was glad that I have a support system,” you continue, telling him about the remainder of the get together, including the hug at the end.

The revelation that Osborn got a hug from you after all, leaves a slight pout on Miguel’s lips and a strange feeling he doesn’t have enough time to identify. All Miguel knows is that Osborn seems to have received what he wanted from the start.

“It was a bit awkward, but I suppose it will be like that for a bit, considering we’re basically strangers at this point. It’ll take some time before that feeling goes away. Anyway, I’m glad we had that little get together, no matter how uneasy it felt, and even gladder that I’m here again. I’m so excited to cook and bake, and help you set up your ofrenda,” you eagerly say, standing up.

“I’m excited, too. I started on a few things already to ease the workload. I’ve set up the other pots and pans we’ll be using, the dry ingredients, and the supplies for the ofrenda. I figured it would help since gathering the things takes a bit of time, too. I also finished the filling for the tamales [Latin dish].”

“Gathering everything is a process of its own,” you agree. “Collecting everything, or as much as you can, beforehand, helps so much. You avoid the running back and forth when you’re actually doing the task, and prevents you from entirely skipping a step because you’re all over the place. It’ll make the process run much smoother being organized, especially since we’re doing a lot of cooking! Do you want to start now?” you ask with so much excitement it’s clear to Miguel you’ve been looking forward to this.

“If you want to, yes,” Miguel answers, standing up as well. “But first, I think you might want to change into more comfortable clothing since we’re doing a lot.”

You look down at yourself, remembering you’re wearing your suit. “You’re right. I’ll be right back!” you tell Miguel, already halfway to the stairs.

After changing into far more comfortable clothes — clothes you’ve left in your bedroom, at Miguel’s penthouse — and turning on his record player, Miguel and you begin to work on the food for the ofrenda.

Hominy for the pozole [Latin dish] is placed in a pot to boil along with the necessary vegetables needed for the sauce and flavor.

With that done, Miguel makes the masa [dough] for tamales, so you can begin making them.

As always, you work together with ease. You move around the kitchen in sync, making steady progress while Latin romantic ballads play in the background.

You also open the packages of candy and set them on a tray to later offer to each of Miguel's family members.

Little by little, progress is being made. You reach a point in the cooking that allows you to take a break and have lunch before you both set up the ofrenda, using tables and shelves to give it two levels.

White tablecloths are used as the base before gorgeous and vibrant banners made out of papel picado [pecked paper] with intricate designs cut into it are hanged at the edge of each level. Colorful and handmade sugar skulls are placed throughout both levels along with white candles to be lit later on.

To finish, both Miguel and you add marigold flowers to the ofrenda. They're fresh and so lively, their scent filling Miguel's living room, where he decided to set his ofrenda this year.

While placing a flower down, you find it hard to believe that you’re here now. Three years ago, Miguel showed up to your apartment out of nowhere. Smiling, you recall that evening.

You were doing chores, specifically putting items away where they belonged and laundry. All of a sudden, you sensed a portal and when you stepped out into the living room, there he was, Miguel. He looked around your apartment, probably noticing the autumn decorations before you asked him if everything was okay. You were surprised by his random appearance and even more so because he looked calm, so your guess was that nothing was amiss. Still, you had to ask just in case you needed to change into your suit.

“Are you busy right now?” Miguel asked after he assured you everything was fine.

“I was just doing some chores, so, no…” you replied, unsure of why Miguel was there so late. He was calm and said nothing was wrong, so that meant there was no threat to the multiverse. At least, that was your impression.

After nodding and sighing to himself, he told you his reasoning for being there. “I would like — to show you something,” he said, meeting your gaze.

In the span of minutes, if even that, you were in the lab and looking at Miguel’s ofrenda for his family.

That was what he wanted to show you, his offering and way of honoring and celebrating those who were once in his life, but now gone. By doing so, Miguel also wanted to assure you that your own way of honoring and celebrating Peter was okay — that you weren’t alone. It was a way of reciprocating the vulnerability you had allowed Miguel to see on Peter’s birthday. And since you had made him part of your celebration, Miguel wanted to do the same for you, something that brought you so much tenderness at the time and continues to do so to this day.

Now, three years later, you’re at his penthouse helping Miguel set up his ofrenda again, just like last year. The difference now is that you’re here instead of at the lab because Miguel decided to set it up at home since he spends more time here than he did in the past. You hum softly and place the last flower before turning to look at Miguel just as he adjusts Gabriel's photo.

You smile at the sight. Gabriel, Gabriel O’Hara. How you wish you could’ve met him and Gabby, the same way Miguel wishes you could’ve.

Heck, Miguel even wishes you could’ve met Conchata. Perhaps she would’ve liked you. Perhaps she would’ve done better as a mother and grandmother to Gabby if all three of them were still alive. Perhaps.

You look at each photo before meeting Miguel’s gaze, both your mouths curving upwards into a smile.

“I was thinking,” Miguel says, still smiling, but with a hint of shyness and hesitation. Perhaps it’s too much what he’s about to say, what he’s about to offer. He scratches his neck nervously, his cheeks red. “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, or offensive. Or… find it weird, or to be too much,” he continues, rambling without realizing it. “I was wondering if you’d like to — like to add your loved ones’ photos, too?” Miguel manages to ask at last, staring at you sheepishly. He has been thinking about it for days, about asking you, but he kept going back and forth on the idea, and now it’s Día de Los Muertos and you’re both here. Maybe it’s a stupid idea, or too much since it’s about your deceased loved ones. Miguel almost begins to apologize for the bad idea, but then he notices the look of surprise and then tenderness on your face.

You slowly smile at him, a sweet smile. “You’re serious?”

“Yes… Yes, I am,” Miguel gently replies.

“But this is for family,” you state softly, wondering if Miguel has truly thought this through.

Miguel nods and that’s how you realize that he knows, that you’re making his point. It’s for family. He’s offering your loved ones a place on his ofrenda because you’re… Family.

You’re part of Miguel’s family.

“Oh…” you simply answer, a small knot forming in your throat before you push it down by swallowing. You smile. “Are you sure? I mean…” you look at the ofrenda, thinking. “It’s your ofrenda and I don’t have any food for them anyway, and I don’t want to crowd —”

“There’s plenty of space,” Miguel says gently. “As to the food, I can help you cook just like you’ve helped me. There’s plenty of time for it.” Noticing your smile, Miguel smiles, too. “Just say the word,” Miguel continues. “And we'll start immediately.”

That’s how, a bit later, the ofrenda is no longer only Miguel’s. It’s his and yours.

Instead of only four portraits, there’s seven. There’s one of both your parents, one of Aunt May and Uncle Ben, Peter, Conchata, Gabby, Gabriel, and Miguel’s wife. Like Miguel, you’ll be offering favorite foods and snacks later on when he does, too. Additionally, you went ahead and added belongings to your loved ones that were significant to them in life. For Peter, you’ve obviously offered his record player and favorite albums.

When you place the last one, a Billie Holiday album, you step back to look at everything. There’s even more sugar skulls, candles, and banners than before. And, the scent of marigolds? It has grown tenfold because more were acquired by Miguel, who went out on a quick trip to buy more.

You smile, feeling thankful for the kind and sweet gesture and privilege to share and partake in such a beautiful tradition with Miguel.

“There,” Miguel gently says with his own smile, staring at the ofrenda with everyone now. He hums and readjusts a flower in front of your parents’ photo before stepping back, standing next to you. “We can place the food in a bit,” Miguel offers before something catches his attention through the windows.

A few seconds later, you both walk to the windows to look closer. Vibrant holographic sugar skulls decorate the sky above Nueva York’s downtown, announcing that the celebrations have started.

At the sight, Miguel smiles softly. It’s been several years since he’s gone to any of those events. Too many years. He slowly turns to face you, noting the smile and intrigue in your eyes. He doesn’t even think about it twice before he makes another offer. “Do you want to go?” he asks. “There’s always live performances, amazing food, small businesses, and great music.”

“Really?” you ask softly, looking at him. “Do you want to go?”

With you? Anywhere. Miguel grins and nods, not sharing that thought. “I’m up for it, if you are.”

You chuckle with a spark in your eyes. “I’d love to!”

-♡-

When you reach Nueva York’s beautiful downtown, the sight of sugar skulls and marigolds greet your and Miguel’s eyes. Lively music reaches your ears and the wonderful, mouthwatering scent of food sold from food trucks reaches your noses.

As you both walk side by side, you notice children eagerly pointing to the holographic sugar skulls in the sky, trying to get their adults’ attention. Countless of people walk around with their faces painted in the traditional sugar skull makeup with intricate patterns. You also notice that many girls and women walk around with beautiful and bright hair accessories, many of which include big flowers.

Pulling your jacket closer to you due to the chilly weather, you smile in delight because of the spirit. There’s always an energy to Nueva York, but tonight, you can sense a different kind — one that seems to be almost pulsing. You silently wonder if that energy comes from those who have departed this physical world, but are visiting their loved ones still on Earth once more.

Your thoughts are interrupted when a lady from a small booth beckons Miguel and you with a bright smile. You glance at Miguel before looking back at the lady, quickly realizing the service she’s providing: painting people’s faces for the celebrations.

“Would you guys like to have your faces painted? I have a special price for couples!” the woman offers, still smiling.

You look away with a small smile. There it is again.

Only three weeks ago on Miguel’s birthday, back in your universe, Mr. Stanley assumed Miguel is your boyfriend. Now, there’s this lady also making the assumption. Thankfully, Miguel didn’t seem to mind. He said it was an innocent assumption, which calmed your worries about him being offended that day.

Next to you, Miguel scratches his neck after hearing the woman’s words. Once again, someone has assumed you’re dating. Despite how many times he’s been told that personally, Miguel still finds it surprising. Do the two of you give that impression? He wonders, considering that this lady has to be the fifth or sixth person to make that innocent assumption. He then wonders how many more people make that silent presumption just from seeing the two of you walking around. Before he has a chance to think further, like what does it mean that you’re being mistaken as a couple, you smile and walk to the booth to look at the different design options. And, of course, Miguel follows you.

“You can do matching, or different designs if you wish,” the lady offers. “I can do different eye colors, too. And, just letting you know, my friend in the next booth is selling hair pieces if you’d like to complete the look, señorita [miss].”

“That sounds lovely! Thank you for letting me know,” you answer politely before looking at the lady’s work again.

“Do you want to get it done?” Miguel asks after he thanks her, too.

“I…” you trail off and look at him, wondering if it’s okay.

“If you want to, you should. It’s fun,” Miguel gently says with a small smile. “We have time, too.”

“Alright!” you happily answer before the lady leads you to a chair and begins to ask you what design you’d like.

Meanwhile, Miguel watches from the side, intrigued by the process. He leans on a street lamp, slipping both his hands into his pockets as he quietly listens to you and the lady make small talk while she paints your face. Unbeknownst to him, Miguel looks like a devoted boyfriend and/or husband, waiting on his partner.

To Miguel’s surprise, it doesn’t take long for the lady to finish the makeup, but then again, he realizes that the lady must have a lot of experience and your face is probably one of hundreds she’s painted today alone.

You stand up and look at yourself through a handheld mirror that the lady offers you, admiring and thanking her for the wonderful service before you return the mirror. You then reach into your pocket for money — cash you’ve converted to this dimension’s — to pay the lady, but before you even get a chance to pull it out, Miguel has already handed the woman a bill.

“Miguel —” you start, but Miguel politely shakes his head at you just as the lady, who silently finds the interaction cute, takes the money.

“It’s on me. Keep the change, doña [short for señora/madam],” Miguel says.

“You’re paying for two people, mijo [term of endearment; my son],” the lady says. “Let me give you your change.”

“No, that’s alright, really,” Miguel insists.

“At least, let me paint your face, mijo. You’re not only paying for your girlfriend’s, but for one more person. You might as well.”

“I don’t…” Miguel starts, but trails off. He’s unsure of how to explain to the kind lady that he’s not open to someone touching his face plus feeling sheepish because she’s called you his ‘girlfriend’.

“Your girlfriend can do it, if you want,” the lady offers, picking up on Miguel’s reluctance.

Standing there, your cheeks feel hot. Not once, but twice has this lady said you’re Miguel’s girlfriend. Pushing past that, you glance at Miguel. “I can if you want, Migs,” you offer.

Miguel looks around for a few seconds before nodding. “If that’s okay… Alright.”

Once Miguel agrees, the lady quickly sets things for you on the other side of the table, so she can continue to work if other customers arrive. In a minute or two, you’re sitting in front of Miguel with a makeup brush in your hand. You begin by painting his entire face with white paint, just like yours. While you do so, Miguel stares at the tent’s ceiling, not failing to notice how close the two of you are sitting. You’re so close to each other that your knees are slightly pressed against each other’s.

After a few seconds, Miguel finally looks at you. His gaze travels over your face, taking the opportunity to look at the painted details now that you’re closer. His eyes stop at your own, noting that you chose a light purple color for eye shadow.

“You chose purple,” Miguel states as you paint one of his cheeks, almost done with the white paint.

“Mhm,” you simply answer, eyebrows furrowed. You look away to gather more paint before resuming. “I chose it because of Gabby, since she loved the color lilac.”

Miguel’s lips part in surprise. He hadn’t made that connection, but now that he knows, his chest flutters with ternura [tenderness]. You chose it for Gabby, his daughter. He smiles, even as you work the brush against his cheek again. “That’s so sweet of you,” Miguel says very softly so the lady doesn’t hear.

You smile back, your cheeks warm. “I just thought it would be… Nice. In her honor.”

“It’s more than nice. It’s sweet, Dulzura,” Miguel answers. “It’s a sweet gesture and I like to think that wherever Gabby is… Perhaps here… She’s appreciating it.”

“I’m sure she’s here,” you answer, reassuring Miguel. “With you.”

Smiling, Miguel nods. “With us.”

“With us…” you repeat softly, your chest filling with happiness at the fact that Miguel said ‘with us’.

Once done with the white paint, you switch to black paint and begin to draw the lines on Miguel’s face. You do the cheekbones and teeth first, finding it the easiest to do. Then, you do his nose by drawing an upside down heart at the tip, finding it cute. You draw circles around his eyes next, tracing Miguel’s orbital cavities, before filling them in and adding a decorative outline.

When you reach his forehead, you think about it. You had flowers drawn on yours, but you don’t want to do that for Miguel. You wish to do something different, something more fitting for him, but what? You hum softly before you begin to draw.

You carefully draw a sun in the middle of Miguel’s forehead, with little rays coming from it to indicate that it’s shining. When you’re done with that, you add a few more details above Miguel’s eyebrows. With a smile, you pull back when you’re fully done and grab the handheld mirror so Miguel can see the final result.

“You drew a sun,” Miguel murmurs with a smile when he sees it.

“Yep,” you say proudly. “Solecito [little sun].”

Miguel’s eyes move from the mirror to you, finding a grin on your face.

“What?” you say. “Some time ago, you jokingly said you were everyone’s solecito. ‘A ball of sunshine’, if I recall correctly.”

“It was sarcasm,” Miguel says, chuckling. “I’m not.”

You sigh and put away the makeup brushes. “For them, maybe.”

“Wh-what?” Miguel stutters, caught by surprise.

With a smile, you close the paints. “I’m saying you’re a ball of sunshine. To me.” You look up, closing the last paint. “Solecito.”

“Solecito,” Miguel repeats, his cheeks growing hot. “Little sun.”

“Mi solecito [my little sun],” you say this time, nodding with a warm smile, leaving Miguel speechless when you add the ‘mi’. Your little sun. You’re saying he’s your little sun. You stand up and grab the materials before walking to the lady to return them. “Here’s everything, ma’am. Thank you so much!”

Meanwhile, Miguel’s brain is having a moment. He’s never been given such a nickname by anyone. Ever. And now he’s your little sun — your ball of sunshine. Miguel’s cheeks grow hotter the longer he sits there, your sweet nickname echoing in his mind, leaving him flustered.

Your solecito.

“Are you ready for the live performances?” you ask, standing in front of him, so eager to go while Miguel’s brain is short circuiting.

“Si [yes],” Miguel replies, clearing his throat. “Yes. I’m ready.”

Miguel forces himself to stand up, trying to push past his pleasant surprise from your new nickname for him. You both thank the lady and wish her well with her business before walking away, happy with the service.

Walking again, Miguel continues to push past his feelings when he spots the small business the lady who painted your faces mentioned earlier. His gaze quickly sweeps over the beautiful hair accessories, which reminds him of the lady’s words, about how you can complete your look with something like that. He stops walking, something you quickly notice.

“Miguel?” you ask, wondering what’s up.

“There’s hair accessories,” Miguel states, staring at one of the tables with organized accessories. He flashes you a grin and gestures for you to follow him before he walks to the booth, leaving you wondering.

You slowly reach his side, finding him already talking with the owner.

“We have several options. Are you looking for a specific color?” the woman asks.

“Hmm, Dulzura,” Miguel turns to face you. “Do you want it to match your makeup?”

You smile, realizing. “I suppose it would be appropriate,” you answer.

“Something purple, please,” Miguel politely says before the lady shows the two of you all the options she has.

The lady shows you headbands, bows, and other cute dainty hair accessories — all with the color purple in different shades. You watch with careful attention as she shows you thing after thing, all so beautiful you’re undecided on which one to buy until you turn to Miguel, who lifts a headband from another table to inspect it. Gazing at it more closely, you realize the headband has handmade flowers out of lilac and white ribbons. It also has some hints of pink due to smaller decorations glued to the ribbons for a little dazzle.

“That one, please,” you say with a smile.

“This one?” Miguel asks with a smile, moving it forward so you can get a better look at it.

“That one,” you confirm, finding it beautiful.

“We’ll take this one, then,” Miguel says, looking at the price tag. Before you even have a chance to pull out your money, Miguel, once again, pulls out his wallet and pays.

“Miguel,” you say softly.

“What is it?” Miguel asks, already knowing by the little pout on your lips.

“You can’t keep paying for everything, you know.”

Miguel grins. “It’s my treat, so please let me,” he answers with amusement before he steps closer to you. To your immense surprise, Miguel steps even closer while holding the headband in both hands. He moves them closer to your head carefully and slowly, as if to avoid startling you. And then, to add to your growing surprise, Miguel gently slips the headband on your head.

You’re so caught off guard by Miguel’s brave gesture that you’re not sure if you misheard yourself gasping, but you’re aware of your widened eyes and parted lips.

Happy with the way the headband looks and how it adorns your hair, Miguel steps back with a soft smile. A gentle blush covers not only his cheeks, but also the top of his ears. For a few seconds, Miguel seems to avoid your wide gaze out of shyness. At last, he meets your eyes, still finding surprise on your face. “Does it feel okay?” Miguel asks, slowly and almost reluctantly taking another step back to give you space.

“Ye-yes,” you answer softly, speechless. You clear your throat and smile, trying to shake off the surprise, or at least not make it so obvious that you're shocked. “Yes. It's fine. Perfect, actually,” you continue with a smile.

“Good,” Miguel says with a small grin. “Now your look is complete, Dulzura.”

“Your change, sir,” the business owner says, dropping the money on his hand.

While Miguel thanks the lady, your eyes land on a beautiful bow. It's lilac with little white pearls lining the two tails. You gently pick it up, imagining that little girl with the toothy smile who loved science and fútbol so much wearing it.

In seconds, you imagine what it'd be like if she was here. You can picture Miguel carrying her on his shoulders, both their faces painted for the celebrations. If she was walking, you can imagine her holding his hand as they walk, tugging him to the small businesses to see everything. You even imagine her pulling him to this booth and picking this very bow because it matches her dress.

Smiling, you check the tag before pulling money out. “I'd like to buy this one, please,” you tell the lady once Miguel finishes talking with her.

Miguel turns to look at you, surprised. “You should've told me you liked that one, too. I can pay —” Miguel starts but you hand the money to the lady before he can finish.

“It’s for Gabby and I wish to pay for it,” you gently reply to Miguel.

“Would you like to get this packaged?” the lady offers.

“Please. That way it doesn't get damaged on the way home,” you answer.

“Of course. Are you guys going home to your child? A little girl, maybe?” the woman asks the two of you with a smile, making another innocent assumption that you both have a daughter.

“I…” you trail off before you start to shake your head.

“My daughter — she — she's no longer with us,” Miguel explains gently, though not explaining that Gabby is just his daughter.

The lady's face softens when she hears that. “Oh, I'm so sorry for your loss,” she replies full of sincerity. She closes the small box and hands it to you, your money on top. “It's on the house, for your little girl.”

Both Miguel and you decline politely at the same time, but the lady gently pushes the box into your hands.

“Please. As a gift,” she insists, still pushing the box into your hands.

You accept it hesitantly, only to not come off as rude. You pick up the money bill and offer it again. “Please-”

“No, no. Please take it. For your daughter,” the lady continues, stepping back. “I want you to. Accept it as a Día de Los Muertos gift. I hope your little one enjoys it.”

You sigh softly and lower your hand. “Thank you so much,” you reply, holding the box carefully.

“Gracias, doña. You didn’t have to, but thank you,” Miguel says after you, sincerely thanking the lady.

“Of course, jovenes [young people; youths]. Please take care and enjoy the celebrations. Have a great night,” the woman says, wishing you well before another customer approaches the booth.

Miguel and you walk away and continue on your way to watch some of the live performances, holding the box closer to you to make sure the bow doesn’t get damaged somehow.

“That was so nice of her,” you say softly as you both reach the center of the downtown, where there’s already a lot of people waiting.

“It was,” Miguel answers, agreeing. “It was a kind gesture. Hers and yours,” Miguel continues. “I appreciate you trying to buy it for Gabby. I’m certain she would’ve loved it.” Miguel smiles at that, knowing it’s true.

You grin. “I was thinking about her wearing it with a matching dress.”

Miguel’s smile softens, imagining his daughter eager to wear her bow with a matching dress. It brings a warmth to his chest. “Thank you, Dulzura. She would’ve definitely worn it like that. I… I imagine she would’ve wanted me to do her hair in a ponytail to wear it, too.”

You both grow quiet, thinking about that vision until the live performances begin. With interest and enthusiasm, Miguel and you watch lovely performances by amazing artists, including a mariachi band, who sing some of the most iconic songs to Mexico and talented ballet folk dancers donning beautiful and authentic attires among other great presentations that keep the spirit for the celebrations high.

Towards the end, Miguel and you eventually decide to go home, but not before you run into an elderly couple who you both overhear quietly talking about not having enough money to buy food from one of the food trucks.

“Tenemos comida en la casa, mi amor [we have food at home, my love],” the elderly man said. “Maybe in a few weeks we can buy the ingredients and make this meal ourselves. We can save for it.”

“You’re right, Balby. We should go home now,” his wife answered.

Hearing that, neither Miguel nor you could simply walk away. So, you bought the couple dinner and even gave them extra money for food. You’re not sure how much it was in total, but Miguel gave them plenty and you gave them what you converted a few days ago. Knowing they’ll be enjoying a great dinner, Miguel and you wish them a good night before you walk away, wanting to go home to complete the ofrenda and have dinner.

While you both walk away, side by side as always, the elderly couple watch you from their seats.

“So you were right, mi amor,” the man says with a grin.

“I always am, Balby,” the woman answers with satisfaction. “Those two have pure and courageous hearts. And they’re meant to be together.”

“I cannot deny it,” the man says. “Even I can see that. However will we pay them for their kindness tonight?”

“I’ll see what I can do,” the woman says, watching the two figures fade into the crowd.

“How about a wager, mi amor?”

“No wagers tonight!” the woman replies before they both disappear, invisible to everyone else, to pass on the kindness Miguel and you gave to them.

[Characters from The Book of Life film; La Muerte and Xibalba (Balby)]

It takes less than half an hour before you reach the penthouse, and upon arrival, Miguel and you change into lounging clothes before heading to the kitchen to reheat the food. In the meantime, Miguel also makes pancakes with chocolate chips for Gabby, wanting those to be freshly made.

Once everything is ready, the food is offered.

Plates with tamales and pink conchas are placed. Bowls with delicious pozole, too. A fresh batch of chocolate chip pancakes is set in front of Gabby’s photograph. Apples and oranges are placed for Conchata and strawberries for Gabby. The various kinds of candy you placed on a tray earlier are distributed between Gabby and Gabriel, which include Paletas Payaso, Canel’s gum, and Pulparindos. And of course, Miguel didn’t forget his loved ones’ favorite drinks like the Jarritos and Chocomilk for Gabby.

Your parents, uncle Ben and Aunt May, and Peter had their favorite foods and drinks served, too.

To complete the ofrenda, Miguel places other offerings for his loved ones. He begins by putting a few things for his mom and his wife. When he’s done with their portions of the ofrenda, he moves to Gabriel’s part. Miguel smiles at his brother’s photo before he gently pulls out Gabriel’s green scarf from his pocket, placing it on the lower level in front of the photograph, offering it.

At last, there’s the youngest O’Hara, Gabby. Like previous years, Miguel places dolls for her, from a scientist to a soccer player and a few other toys. He offers a few new books because she loved to read, books he bought a few days ago with you at his side. From the bag in which he stored everything, he also pulls out a soccer ball. It was a must, of course. And finally, Miguel places her guitar, too, hoping that wherever Gabby is, she can enjoy her beloved guitar.

“I almost forgot,” you say softly, walking closer with the packaged bow. You offer it to Miguel, so he can place it, but Miguel shakes his head.

“You place it,” he replies. “I know you were going to buy it for her, so you should do it. It’s alright if you do so.”

“Are you sure?” you ask, not wanting to push boundaries.

“I’m sure, truly,” Miguel reassures you with a small smile, one you return.

With a nod, you open the box and pull the bow out, admiring it for a few seconds and thinking once more about a different timeline in which Gabriella was here, physically. You place it between the two dolls, silently hoping that Gabby likes it. You step back to look at the fully finished ofrenda. It took some time and love, but it’s completed at last and it’s so beautiful.

Both Miguel and you stand in silence, admiring it. The silence is a comfortable one, not out of grief despite the several photos in display of loved ones physically gone. It’s a silence of comfort and hope that those who have left too soon and unexpectedly come home, even if just for a few hours to share a meal with their living loved ones once more.

Miguel’s eyes trace every single photo in silence. He feels at peace, something he didn’t feel three years ago. There was too much pain, too much heartbreak. And, too much loneliness, even if he didn’t fully admit it to himself back then. Yet, three years later, Miguel stands in his penthouse — same one that felt so incredibly void and cold before, but now feels like home.

Home.

Miguel turns to face you. Things are different now. There’s less pain, less heartbreak. He’s learned better ways to manage his feelings, too, that’s for sure. Even better, there’s no more loneliness. With a soft sigh, Miguel finally breaks the silence. “Dinner?” he simply says, watching the way you turn to look at him with your face still painted, much like his.

“That sounds good. I’m actually starving,” you confess with a grin.

“It’s all that walking,” Miguel answers before he gestures for the two of you to return to the kitchen for food.

Due to the celebrations, Miguel and you go back to the living room with plates containing food to have dinner with your loved ones. You enjoy the food over conversation regarding the wonderful performances.

Not surprisingly, Lyla shows up halfway through dinner to play music for the two of you. She also takes the opportunity to sneakily take pictures for her secret, or not so secret, folder of digital content before disappearing again.

Eventually, Miguel and you take off the makeup before returning to the kitchen for what feels like the hundredth time to prepare café de olla and arroz con leche specifically for Gabby. When all is done, more than two mugs are set on one of the kitchen counters to pour coffee into them. Together, the two of you carry the mugs to the ofrenda, placing one mug for everyone except Gabby.

“Para ti no, mija,” Miguel tenderly states with a smile on his lips. He places the mug you gifted him for Father’s Day earlier this year, the one with the two bees, filled with arroz con leche and topped with a generous amount of cinnamon powder with the rest of her food. “Estás muy chiquita para tomar café todavía, but I made your favorite instead.” Taking a step back, Miguel’s eyes soften when he looks at his daughter’s photograph. If only she were here, Miguel thinks, before he settles down on the floor with you in front of the ofrenda. He picks up his mug with coffee and takes a drink, the music from earlier still playing thanks to Lyla who left it on. “Thank you,” Miguel suddenly says, turning to look at you. “For joining me tonight and participating in the tradition… For allowing your family to join mine.”

You hum and offer him a smile, holding your mug in both hands. “No, thank you… Solecito,” you reply, using that nickname again. “For allowing me to be part of it again and for inviting my family into your ofrenda. It means so much to me,” you continue. “So, thank you.”

“Siempre,” Miguel whispers, his heart skipping a beat when he hears the new sweet nickname you’ve given him. “Always… But, seriously… Thank you for being here with me again. For accepting my offer.” Miguel’s eyes meet yours, his gaze tender. He knows that his invitation for your family to join the family ofrenda might have been too much — too personal — even for best friends, but still, Miguel couldn’t help himself from making it. He turns to look at the ofrenda again, noting how big it turned out with your family being part of it. After a few seconds, Miguel turns to face you again. “Thank you.”

You smile sweetly and nod, knowing what Miguel means. Having your family join the ofrenda was certainly a personal gesture, a much more intimate one than previous ones simply because it’s about family, and it’s a gesture you appreciate so much. “Always,” you whisper back.

Much, much later, you lean back on the couch with heavy eyes. It’s late at night, about three in the morning now. Miguel and you have spent the last few hours just talking and drinking café de olla. You were feeling alert, but all of a sudden, you’re hit with a tranquility, one that seems to caress you into a sleep. You lean into it for a few seconds, closing your eyes and feeling a warmth surround — embrace — you.

Feeling the same, Miguel’s crimson eyes flutter, but he fights the sleep. Or, tries to, anyway. He glances at you, remembering your meeting with Osborn earlier today. He thinks about the hug you two shared, pondering for a bit before he finally speaks. “Dulzura?” he whispers, not sure if you’re asleep already.

“Hmm?” you sleepily respond, your eyes fluttering just to look at him.

Miguel’s lips quirk up at the sight. You look so cute when you’re sleepy. “I was just thinking about how you said your meeting with Harry was awkward at first because he went straight for the hug,” he says slowly.

“Mhm, it was,” you confirm.

“Did the hug feel awkward, too?” Miguel asks, seeing you’re more asleep than awake now.

You yawn softly, covering your mouth, and nod. “It was. It felt weird,” you respond too softly.

Miguel hums as a response, thinking. He feels something in his chest again, something he didn’t register earlier. Envy, perhaps? Envy that Harry Osborn who has only been in your life for a few months now, if even that, has embraced you before he has, even if it was awkward.

He sighs and rubs his eyes. He doesn’t know why he’s even feeling like that. It’s silly.

Right?

On top of that, Miguel also feels a bit of shame and disappointment in himself. “I’m sorry,” Miguel sleepily murmurs to you.

“What — For what?” you ask, Miguel’s words waking you up a bit.

“For… I still haven’t — You know. I haven’t embraced you yet,” Miguel replies quietly, disappointment and shame laced in his tone.

“Miguel,” you start gently. “You don’t have to apologize. Not for that, you know that. This isn’t a race. It’s a healing journey, and everyone needs their own pace to heal from their grief and trauma. You’re going at your pace and therefore, honoring your boundaries and yourself, which is so important. That’s all that matters to me.” You offer him a reassuring smile before continuing. “That’s not to say, I don’t wish to… One day have the opportunity to experience that — a hug from you, but everything at its due time, okay?” you murmur softly, as if there were other people in the room.

Miguel nods, reassured by your words and gentle reminder. “Thank you, Dulzura. I appreciate it…” he answers, feeling better. You’re always so understanding of him and his boundaries. After a few seconds, he continues. “One of these days,” Miguel tells you softly, sounding like a promise he fully intends on fulfilling.

“One of these days,” you repeat gently, looking forward to the day.

You both think about it — about the day in which Miguel will be open to that kind of physical touch. You think about what it’d feel like, to hold each other close. To learn what it's like to be in each other's arms.

When that day comes, Miguel knows he will hug you close and remember what it feels like to hug someone after so many years of going without a single embrace.

With that in mind, you both admire the ofrenda again. It somehow looks even more beautiful now in the dark living room with the candles’ dancing flames. It almost feels like they're waving at the two of you.

Still looking at the ofrenda, Miguel wonders if there’s a chance that both your relatives are here tonight. If they made it. He hopes they did and that they enjoyed the food and belongings that were offered to them.

As the minutes tick by, that wave of sleep rolls over you again and instead of fighting it, Miguel and you surrender to it this time. There’s a warmth that reaches and embraces you both. It’s so familiar neither of you can help yourselves from leaning into it like a child leans into their parents’ warmth for safety and comfort.

The last thing you both hear is static coming from the speakers from which music was just now playing. A soft, sad guitar begins to play, but you’re both asleep already — lulled by a warm, gentle, and familiar energy not visible to the human eye, but always around.

Remember me

Though I have to say goodbye

Recuérdame…

Previous ⋅ ♡ ─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ── ♡ ⋅ Next

A/N: Hiiiiiiii!! I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter 🥺 Ever since last year, I wanted to write a short chapter for Día de Muertos, but alas, I didn't get the chance to, so I couldn't miss it this year!

Guys... I was giggling and kicking my feet when MIGUEL PUT THE HEADBAND ON OUR HEADS RAHHHHHHHHHHH AND THEN THE FACT HE FELT A BIT JEALOUS OVER HARRY HUGGING US??? (forgive me for screaming but !!!) and then the fact he's thinking more about it -- about hugging us!! 🥹

Also, don't mind the direct reference to The Book of Life. I was working on this chapter Thursday and listening to the official soundtrack for it because it's genuinely one of my fav movies ever, which I plan on watching tonight, and then the idea popped in my head to include La Muerte and Xibalba somehow and well... I did it. 😌

Also, what do we think about Harry? I was cringing while writing that part because they're so awkward!😭😭 But anyway, what do we think? 🤔 Side note, I was fighting the urge to make Felix a hot old man, I'm ngl 😔(I'm still imagining him to be hot, I'm sorry).

Ok, I think that's all and I must go now because my siblings are bothering me to help them with something. I hope you enjoyed it and if you did, show it some love! Take care everyone, and happy November! 💖

Alondra❤️

p.s. I haven't forgotten about chapter 20's comments and reblogs. I'm sorry for how long it's taken me to reply to them. I got behind because of the three chapters I dropped 3 weeks ago, but I promise I'll get to them this upcoming week!! Thank you so much for the amazing love and support as always!! I love you guys 💖💖🥹

Credits: Gif by @/halloween-pumpkin-queen. Purple dividers by @/thecutestgrotto and green divider by @/vysleix

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[pickingupmymercedes]

As you leave - Lewis Hamilton

Part of 1K Jukebox Event

song: As you leave - Canaan Cox

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

genre: fluff (tooth rotting fluff)

wordcount: +1k

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

______________________________________________________________

It’s funny how something as simple as a word—husband—can shift everything.

Like a door clicked shut, not locking me in, but keeping the rest of the world out. Suddenly, this wasn’t just us playing house; this was us, forever, without the 'what ifs.

Waking up that morning, I felt it—the quiet shift in the air, the weight of it, the awareness that life as I knew it was different, not in a sharp, jarring way, but like the slow turning of a page.

I’d opened my eyes to the familiar warmth of Lewis beside me, the feel of his skin, his breath in rhythm with mine. The word floated around in my mind, sticking in a way that made me stop and take it all in.

This was real. This was my life now.

We had spent the last couple of nights entangled in each other, nights that seemed to stretch beyond the usual limits of time, like we both knew it had to mark the start of something new.

We'd done it so many times before, but last night...it felt different. It wasn’t about novelty, or even lust—though God knows there was plenty of that.

There was something grounding in the way we touched—like every movement wasn’t just physical, but a promise. It wasn’t about learning each other anymore; it was about being sure.

I was tired, in the best possible way. And yet, here I was, wide awake. Not in any hurry, not driven by some need to get up or get going. Because now, we had all the time in the world.

It’s funny, really—how everything feels the same but somehow, it’s not.

There's a weight to marriage, the kind that settles you in place, makes you look at your partner and know that they aren’t just another person you’re sharing a life—they’re also your home.

Lewis’s arm was slung over my waist, holding me close, like if he let go, I’d vanish.

I smiled to myself, tracing lazy circles on his skin. Husband. The word still felt foreign, like I was trying on someone else’s clothes.

I glanced over at him, his face still buried in the pillow, soft breaths fanning across my shoulder. How was it that he could look so peaceful, yet still so ridiculously attractive, even while sleeping?

I could just stare at him for hours, and some mornings, I would.

I wanted to laugh at how utterly smitten I was—like a teenager who’d just had her first kiss.

But there was nothing teenage about this love.

I shifted a little, not enough to wake him but enough to revel in the soreness I felt. I just wanted to look at him a little more, memorize the way the morning sun kissed his skin, the way his lashes rested so peacefully against his cheeks.

And maybe steal a few extra seconds before reality barged back in. Not that we had much of that to worry about out here.

We were on an island, in the middle of nowhere, no responsibilities, no schedules, nothing… just us.

And there was this quietness, this peace that came with knowing I had Lewis all to myself. Just a lazy morning in bed, wrapped in sheets and warmth, like the rest of the world didn’t exist.

“I can feel you staring at me, you know,” his voice was rough, groggy, but it was enough to send a flutter through my chest.

Caught.

I smirked, not bothering to move. “Maybe I just like looking at my husband. Sue me.”

“Keep looking at me like that, and I’ll have to keep you in this bed all day” he murmured, tightening his grip on me, pulling me even closer. I could feel the solidness of his chest pressed against my back, his lips brushing the back of my neck.

My heart stuttered at the warmth of his words, but I couldn’t resist teasing him. “Promises, promises” I shot back, turning my head just enough to see his sleepy grin.

"Morning, Mrs. Hamilton" he murmured when he saw me looking at him, voice gravelly from sleep, that smile I loved playing at his lips as he leaned down to kiss my shoulder.

“Mmm,” I hummed against the skin on his arm. “Two days in and you’re already using the title. Bold.”

“It’s official, isn’t it?” he mused, rolling me slightly so he could look at me properly, his eyes crinkling with that same look of complete adoration he’s had since the day we met. "Feels like a long time coming."

I stretched, playfully kicking my legs out from under the sheets. “I’ve been stuck with you for years, it’s not like anything’s changed.”

He raised an eyebrow. “It sure felt different last night.”

And there it was, the easy banter that was us.

I felt myself grow warmer, a reminder of way his touch still burned my skin even now. “We’re pros at this point.”

“Not the same” he smirked, eyes scanning me with that familiar hunger I’d become so used to. “Not as husband and wife”

I rolled my eyes, swatting at his chest, but my grin gave me away. “Okay, okay, fine”

Lewis chuckled softly, pulling me closer as his hand traced light circles on my bare back.

The softness of his touch always surprised me, as if he had the power to both break and rebuild me with just a graze of his fingertips. It wasn’t urgent, like before. It was slower, more deliberate, like we had all the time in the world now to just... be.

And in a way, we did.

“It does feels different, though, doesn’t it?” I said quietly, my voice barely above a whisper, surprising myself with the admission. “Being married”

His thumb brushed over my cheek, his eyes locking onto mine. “It does”

I blinked, trying to put into words what had been swirling in my mind all morning. “I mean, we've been doing this for so long. Living together, traveling together. But waking up today… I don’t know, it just feels real.”

He nodded, his lips brushing against my forehead as if sealing the thought. “I get it. I feel it too. We’re locked in.”

I snorted, the sarcasm coming out of me before I could stop it. “Well, ‘locked in’ sounds a little ominous.”

He laughed, his chest vibrating under my head. “You know what I mean, smartass. We’ve crossed that line, for good”

“We did” I echoed, feeling the weight of it in the best possible way.

It was true—there was no rush, no ticking clock. No matter what came next, no matter how crazy life got with his schedule or mine, this... this was ours.

I propped myself up on my elbow, looking down at him. “So, what’s the plan for today, husband?” I dragged the word out, watching the way his face lit up every time I used it.

He shrugged, his hand still tracing those soothing circles on my back. “Unless you’ve got better plans, I was thinking we could stay right here.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “We’re in paradise, and you want to stay in bed?” I gestured to the beautiful villa around us, the distant sound of waves crashing against the shore just outside the window.

Lewis smirked, pulling me back down on top of him. “This view, right here, is pretty great.”

I rolled my eyes, though I couldn’t help the smile that spread on my lips.

The way he looked at me, like I was the only thing in the world that mattered, never got old. Even after all these years, even after all the ups and downs, he still looked at me like I hung the moon.

He chuckled, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. “We can explore tomorrow. Today, it’s all about this…” He pressed a kiss to my shoulder. “And this…” Another kiss, this time to the curve of my neck.

I sighed, already lost in him, in the warmth of his skin against mine, the way he always knew how to make me feel like the only woman in the world.

I cupped his face in my hands, pulling him down toward me again, kissing him slowly, deeply, like I was grounding myself in him. Because I was.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I whispered against his lips, smiling as I saw the flicker of contentment in his eyes.

“Good,” he said, resting his forehead against mine. “Because all I need is more of you”

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t help the smile that tugged at my lips. “That’s a bit dramatic”

“Maybe,” he grinned, kissing me again, this time slower, more deliberate.

“If you insist, I suppose I can clear my schedule.” I sighed dramatically, his lips still almost touching mine.

“Generous” he murmured, lips grazing the side of my head.

We laid there in comfortable silence for a few moments, the kind of silence only years of being together could create. No need for constant chatter, no rush to fill the space with words.

Just us, in the moment, married and completely content.

“Hey,” Lewis said after a while, his voice soft but serious. “Thank you.”

“For?” I asked, tilting my head to look up at him.

“Staying. Through all of it.” His hand brushing at my cheeks, his touch tender. “I know it’s not always easy.”

I felt my heart swell, the emotion catching me off guard. “You’re worth it.”

He smiled, leaning down to kiss me again, his lips warm and familiar. “Here’s to forever, then.”

I smiled against his lips, feeling the weight of those words settle around us like a warm blanket. “Forever it is.”

______________________________________________________________

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[naeviskz]

genre. idol!hyunjin x model!f!reader | established relationship

words. 1.5k+ tags/warnings. angst, fluff (towards the end), smut, accusations of cheating, hj is lowkey toxic (but we love it hehe), cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, some mentions of crying, not proofread

this has been in my drafts for years and i finally finished it bc i was tired of seeing it LMAO. btw the position i’m referring to is this (nsfw link), i usually hate vids but this was rlly good imo.

“i think we should take a break...” you admit, voice growing shakier as you spoke. this was never something you wish to say in a million years, you wanted this relationship to work more than anything. but you were at your wits end with everything, talking to hyunjin was like conversing with the wall, never truly grasping any of your concerns.

you noticed the cracks beginning to seep in the midst of six months of being with him. he would often be dishonest of his whereabouts, saying he was out late due to “work” but was actually out drinking at some bar with chan or something. it made no sense for him to lie about such trivial things but he does it without even thinking. this was supposed to be a lovely vacation in paris together but lately you’ve grown tired of feeling like you’re unappreciated. a break from each other might be the best solution in getting his act together once and for all.

hyunjin felt his whole body turn limp as you uttered those words. not only was he blindsided by your decision, but you never indicated before to him that you were ready to propose such a drastic idea. “but why though? don’t you think this is a bit random? i mean this came out of nowhere ___, i thought everything was good between us, why are you suddenly saying this now?” his thick, bushy brows furrowed in confusion, he wasn’t letting you off this easy and you know it.

“i just think it’s for the better right now hyune, we’re both so busy. we have a lot on our plate, especially you… and this relationship is just— it’s only putting more strain on everythi-”

“are you serious ___? do you hear yourself? i knew what i was getting myself into the day i asked you to be my girlfriend. i’m well aware that i can’t be with you 24/7, and neither can you—however, i don’t expect that anyway. all i ever wanted was to have you by my side, i want to work through the hardships with you but if you’re so willing to give up like this then… i don’t know. i don’t even know what to say to this honestly..” hyunjin couldn’t help but cut you off, once his emotions take over, all sense of logic and reasoning is thrown out the window.

he was never one to question his worth in the eyes of his partner, but you were his longest relationship, he saw you as his first and only true love. it never occurred to him that he could lose you, the possibility of this break lasting long enough to make your love fade away was a scary revelation. there had to be a way he could fix this, he couldn’t bear to be without you.

“are you seeing someone else? maybe that’s why you’ve been so distant towards me lately…” he wanted to scream for saying that out loud but at least he got it off his chest. he knows how petty it sounds but he didn’t care, he wanted you to give him answers.

“no! i’m not seeing other people, i don’t have an interest in anyone but you hyunjin. i want to do this for the sake of us, we’re clearly not where we need to be and this break could help with getting us back on track and spending time apart could be beneficial.” you try your best to articulate your words properly but he remained unconvinced, he wasn’t on board with any bit of this.

how could you even be okay with something like this? spending time away from you drove him absolutely insane, he couldn’t fathom taking a break—not from someone as important as you in his life. he just needed to remind you that the love was still there, though it may be but a dull flame, he could ignite the spark again, with the little bit of hope he had left.

the foundation of your relationship was built from shared interests, since you both are part of professions that rely heavily on looks, you refused to see each other based solely off those superficial aspects. instead you got to know each other’s minds, your core values and beliefs, what mattered to you the most. you cherished every one of those deep conversations you shared together, it was a beautiful experience, an indescribable memory that shaped your bond forever.

so why is it now that you feel this way? was he really that oblivious to everything? he should’ve done more to prevent this but now he fears it’s too late. he’s faced with the conundrum of losing you and there wasn’t much time for him to stall or ask for a chance of redemption, he couldn’t waste another second.

“fuck that,” hyunjin angrily spat, his face contorting into a look of pure disgust. “you’re not going anywhere.” he reaches out to grab your waist before you could walk away, aggressively pulling you into his chest.

no matter how much you attempt to escape his hold, he’s not letting you go in the slightest. he’s much stronger than you, could easily lift you up without breaking a sweat. there was no use in fighting, you had no choice but to give in and let this conversation go. once his lips crashed into yours, everything faded to black. as if a simple kiss was the cure-all of mending this decrepit relationship.

hyunjin’s forehead pressed against yours as he pulled away, “shhh, lye down baby,” he hushes your quiet mewls, instructing you to do as he says. “gonna make you feel so good,” his hands slid under your skirt, gently rubbing over your clothed slit “you’ll forget everything.”

* :.･ﾟﾟ･ ✿

“oh my- fuckk, hyunjin!” you cry out, almost on the verge of tears just from how skilled he is, rutting your hips upwards into his mouth as he devours you whole.

the pace of his tongue is relentless, roughly lapping up all your juices like he’s the most starved man alive. you’ve lost count at the amount of times he’s already made you come undone just from his mouth alone. your body’s buzzing with titillation, all you can do is scream and clench your pussy around nothing while he fiercely sucks on your clit.

you couldn’t stop twitching, feeling yet another orgasm approaching. your legs anchored over his shoulders, unable to think or speak coherent sentences as his face was fully buried into your dewy cunt. he relaxes his jaw a bit more, going all the way from the bottom inching further up as he comes back in contact with your puffy clit. at any given moment it feels as if your heart’s about to stop.

“hyunjin-” your heads thrown back into the pillow, digging your nails into his shoulder blades from how overly sensitive you are. “n-need to cum.. can feel it. m’so close.” it surprises you when you’re able to even express such words.

a low grunt can be heard underneath, hyunjin loves hearing you— it’s arguably the best part about going down on you. the hand that wasn’t occupied went straight to gripping a fistful of his ebony hair, continuously moaning his name so loud that you genuinely feel bad for whomever the unlucky people that got to hear this.

just when you thought it couldn’t get anymore intense, he slips 2 of his slender fingers inside, making you gasp from the overwhelming sensation. flashes of white invade your vision, violently shaking as your lips form an “o” in the throes of ecstasy. hyunjin knows your body so well that this is nothing for him, he’s got it all down to a simple science. no one knows your body like he does, and especially no one can make you cum as hard as he can.

“go ahead, make a mess for me baby,” he strongly encourages, picking up his pace as his digits fuck into you faster. “just gonna clean it up with my tongue all over again.”

your eyes roll back to the depths of oblivion, feeling an out of body experience when reaching your climax. a slew of curses leave your shaky breath, limbs trembling and faint tears stain your flushed cheeks. hyunjin slows his movements, rubbing his thumb over your clit gently to make you even more sensitive. you love the way he calls you “good girl” and how proud the look on his face becomes while you ride out your orgasm on his fingers. he doesn’t stop showering you with compliments, only ramping up his affection as he plants fleeting kisses to your thighs, hips, and tummy.

once he’s finally come back up for air you grab his face to pull him into your lips again. moaning in his mouth while getting a taste of yourself was probably the hottest thing hyunjin’s ever witnessed.

“can’t believe you’re all mine.” hyunjin whispers against you, gently massaging your aching thighs. “i love you so much baby.”

“love you too hyune.” you instantly say back, feeling more at ease now that things are somewhat back to normal.

maybe a break isn’t necessary after all, how else would you be able to have such earth shattering orgasms?

- 完 ♡︎

[ihrtsevyn]

— EVERYTHING . . . 𖤐 | j.g x reader

moved to: @kiemiu !!

genre f2l, fluff, headcanons + scenarios

warnings no smut but it is a bit suggestive. no use of specific age/race/gender. no pronouns used. no use of y/n. lowercase intended. loosely proofread.

summary headcanons of the sweet, shy beginnings of you and johnnie's dating life.

requested by anon you can find the link here !!

wc 2.1k

new relationships are meant to be awkward, you're stepping into new vulnerable territory with someone that can change your outlook on life and affect you emotionally as well as physically, for better or for worse.

there are boundaries that haven't been made yet, and miscommunication on where you lie with physical affection. and although that might be awkward, the new beginnings and shy gestures only make the relationship stronger.

. . .

— PDA

pda isn't a regular occurrence between the two of you. every time you or him initiated affection with one another in public it made you both shy. you were just now stepping out of the "best friend" stage and into lovers so everything was new and took some getting used to.

you and johnnie were shopping together at target for a few baking necessities, you were having a contest against tara and jake to see who could make the best dessert.

as you were pushing the cart and looking on the shelves for items you thought you'd need, you became slightly startled at johnnie's sudden yelling. "babe! look, they have chucky cupcake toppers." he shouted excitedly running towards you from behind.

before you could turn your head in his direction you felt one of his hands rest on your lower back that was slightly exposed, his cold rings pressed into your warm skin making the contrast of temperatures distract you from whatever he had been telling you about.

"huh? oh, uhm, those are neat. d'you wanna get them?" you asked after processing his excitement. "hell yeah." he replied with a smile before throwing them into your cart, his hand remaining on your waist.

"have you found anything cool yet? i really wanna beat jake at this after he called me a shit baker." he murmured with a small furrow of his brows.

you nodded with a hum of confirmation as you both started to make your way into the next isle. your attempts to speak were futile as you could only focus on the way his thumb slowly caressed your skin. he did it with such ease as if it was second nature to him.

"good, tara and jake don't stand a chance against us." he hummed in triumph before pressing a small kiss against your temple. at this point you were starting to feel dizzy at the amount of affection you were receiving but you loved it at the same time. you don't know where this sudden burst of confidence and tenderness came from but you never wanted it to end.

"i really like you." you blurted out of nowhere with slightly widened eyes as if you had come to a sudden revelation.

johnnie couldn't help his widening smile as he replied without hesitation, "i like you too."

— SETTING BOUNDARIES

you don't know what had gotten into johnnie, but ever since you arrived at his house with one of your friends, jamie. he had been distant, almost as if he was avoiding you. it annoyed you to no end because you couldn't recall a single thing that you had done to evoke this reaction out of him.

you were able to find him alone long into the night and pulled him aside. he reluctantly followed you with a noticeable frown on his face.

"what's wrong?" you ask as you close his bedroom door behind you two. "nothing." he replied, shrugging his shoulders before reaching for the door handle. thankfully in that moment you were faster than he was and stopped him from grabbing a hold of the door knob.

"please, just tell me what i did." you murmured, your eyebrows furrowed in worry as you searched his eyes for any type of answer. he sucked in a breath before releasing it.

you patiently waited for him to speak, removing your hand from the knob which gave him the comfort that you trusted him.

"why didn't you call me to pick you up?" he asked lowly, his eyes trained on his hands that were fiddling with his rings. "hm? wha- baby, me and jamie were both coming over so i thought it would just make sense for us to carpool." you explained.

"yeah, but...i don't know. i'm a reliable boyfriend, right?" "of course you are. i just didn't want you to do extra work." "i'd do that extra work for you. i want to do it for you."

you smiled, you were endeared more than anything and all annoyance had left. "and you can. but in the future, if you're upset with me please, just talk to me. ignoring each other won't make our problems and insecurities go away." you suggested, wrapping your arms around his neck.

he hummed in agreement with a growing smile, all while wrapping his arms around your waist. "okay, i promise to communicate. and im sorry for making you worried."

"apology accepted."

— FIRST KISS

date nights with johnnie was one of your favorite things to do. you loved spending time with him so anything you two decided to do would be time well spent. this time around johnnie and you were in his house, having a night in together.

both of you were freshly showered with smooth, clear skin from your 3 hour long self-care time. you and johnnie found yourself in the living room together watching horror movies and playing board games.

there were loads of snacks and drinks surrounding the both of you along with a takeout box of food the both of you shared.

"ugh, you're such a cheater, johnnie." you groaned with a frown as you pulled 8 cards from the uno pile. he let out one of his giggles as he looked between his two cards that he had left. "or maybe you're just really bad." he replied, setting down another card before loudly shouting 'uno!'

you paused, a small mischievous smile started to grow on your face which made johnnie raise a questioning brow at you. before he could ask you had got up from your seat and tried to snatch his card, unfortunately he was too fast for you and cradled the card to his chest. "hey!" he shouted out, his laughs increasing as you continued trying to fight for his card.

"let me see your card!" you shouted through giggles as you climbed over him, reaching for his card. "no, you cheater!" he squeaked out as he continued to hold it from your grabby hands. even when johnnie tried his best to keep the card from you, you still were able to maneuver from his grip.

"thank you!" you triumphantly yelled out, but before you could celebrate any further johnnie had you pinned under him, hovering over you with squinted eyes and quivering lips as he tried to hide his smile.

"give me my card." he spoke quietly, his eyes trailing down to it clutched to your chest. you shook your head 'no', any and all words refusing to slip past your lips.

"is there anything i could do in exchange for my card back?" he asked in a whisper, his eyes trailing back and forth from your eye to your lips. unconsciously you bit your bottom lip, wanting the same thing as him. "maybe one thing." you softly said, both of you inching closer until you were sharing the same breath.

he stared into your eyes for a moment, a look of desperate need filtered behind his eyes. "is this okay?" he asked, touching the tip of his nose against yours. you could only hum in response before your lips collided. you truthfully can't remember who kissed who, but all you know is that you never wanted it to end.

— FIRST FIGHT

you can't really remember what led up to the intense moment, all you know is that you wanted it to end. you and johnnie had been at each others throat for over an hour now and you were starting to get tired. both of you tried to keep your voices calm and soft when addressing the other, but this time around something had gotten to both of you enough for you to yell and curse each other out.

you let out a pathetic sigh, letting your head fall into your hands. before you could stop yourself you felt the tears falling, your sobs being muffled by your hands. The room stilled in silence at the sound of your cries, Johnnie's rage completely sub-sided when he turned to face you. Seeing your curled up form on the edge of the bed made any sense of anger dissipate as he made his way towards you.

"god, i'm so sorry, baby." he murmured before sitting next to you, pulling your body into his arms. whatever you two were arguing about couldn't have been so serious to make you burst into tears. he slowly dragged both of your bodies further onto the bed before laying down and pulling your body onto his. he pulled one of your legs over his torso, one of his arms wrapped around your shoulder while his other hand rested on your lower thigh.

he pressed a small kiss to your forehead as your cries died down. "i'm sorry we fought." you whispered, nuzzling your head into his neck. "i am too...let's not fight like this again, alright?..i hate seeing you so upset, baby."

you slowly nodded before lifting your head up enough to make direct eye-contact with him. his blue eyes were clouded with tears that hadn't yet fallen. before he could release another breath you brought one of your hands up to his face, turning his head towards yours and connecting your lips. so much affection and remorse went into the kiss, promising to yourselves that in the future you'll be better, for each other.

— FIRST I LOVE YOU

a long night of drinking and hanging out with your friends was finally coming to an end. you wobbled into your apartment, johnnie not too far behind as he had one of his hands on your lower back, trying desperately to keep you steady after your countless stumbles and shaky balance.

not many words had been exchanged between the two of you as johnnie guided you to your bedroom. "wait right here, i'll be back soon, okay?" he demanded softly. his hand that rested on your check slowly slipped away as he made his way out of the bedroom and somewhere off into your apartment.

you slowly started to undress, removing your shoes first and sluggishly removing the rings and necklaces you had decided to wear. johnnie came back into the room with a glass of water, setting it on your nightstand before walking off into your bedroom, shuffling around and grabbing whatever he thought he'd need.

the house was serene and comfortable. you couldn't do much but watch johnnie in admiration as he took care of you. he removed your makeup and frequently took breaks to give you sips of water when he felt like you went too long without it. "don't ever get this drunk without me around, kay?" he quietly reprimanded as he slid your pajama pants on.

you only nodded, fighting off the sleep as best as you could as he pulled the blankets up to your chin. "are you staying?" you asked hopefully. he faltered in his steps when throwing your clothes into your laundry hamper. "if you want me to." "i always want you to."

you fought your sleep ruthlessly while johnnie got himself ready to join you. your eyelids grew heavier by the second and your entire body felt glued to the mattress. your eyes fluttered open at the sound of a gentle laugh. "you didn't have to wait for me." he said quietly while getting himself comfortable into the spot next to yours.

"yeah, but i wanted to."

johnnie only hummed in response as he got cozy under the heavy covers. "johnnie." you whispered, turning your body towards his fully. "yes, baby."

"i love you."

the room fell into complete silence as johnnie slowly shifted towards you. "what did you say?"

"i appreciate how much you do for me johnnie...and i love you. i-i promise im not drunk either, i've sobered up a lot actually. i just...i just realized how much you mean to me."

he yanked your body into his embrace, a small oomf falling from your lips at the impact of colliding with his chest. "i love you more. so much more than you could imagine." he breathed out, his voice slightly cracking in the process as he was filled with so much emotion. "i loved you yesterday, i love you tonight, tomorrow, and will continue to love you each day after that."

a/n: got a little carried away w/ this one ngl lol. hope you guys still enjoyed and thank you for requesting, i love writing for you guys <3 :)

[inknopewetrust]

𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧

Summary: when the storm chasing is done and the weather doesn’t sit right, Scott is always there to reassure you everything will be alright [Scott Miller x Reader] [WC: 1.6k ish]

Warnings: none really. Fluffy romance, for once Scott isn’t an asshole, maybe a little suggestive at times but nothing that merits a warning. This fills the gap between the next massive Scott fic I’m writing.

Quick Links: Masterlist (including all twisters fics)

In the middle of nowhere Oklahoma, the sounds of rain pattered on a front porch covered by a roof. Its meeting of wood had once been rhythmic. Each beat building anticipation of a storm in the distance—you loved that feeling.

And you curled up on the bench beside the door to watch it fall. Gently and softly until it drowned out the nothingness of your home.

It was heaven—if you just stayed awhile and simply listened.

On nights like these, Scott had learned the phases of your own storm chasing to a specific pattern.

The revelation that it was indeed going to rain came first. A light excitement that flashed before your eyes in hope that perhaps it would evolve into something far for exhilarating in the darkness. Second came the socks over your bare feet even after the evening had settled and there was no cause for it.

You’d be going outside—the moment the socks slipped over your toes he knew it.

And then when the rumbles or the pattern started, you’d be gone. Disappearing to the outdoors as though you’d live there in the wilderness to simply live amongst the weather.

He always questioned why you had never chased them, truly, yourself. Scott had never met someone so admiring of a natural phenomenon that exceeded your appreciation.

But it also happened to be a Friday night on this particular evening. One that was far and few between the longer the seasons lasted for his work and the end had just occurred. All he wanted was to hold you, feel you, love you, and yet you chose the storms he ran away from.

The thunder was sounding closer. The echos marched through the home you shared and he tapped on his leg in thought as the television set went out of service and the weather was all that was left.

So, he got up.

A prolonged squeal ached as the porch door opened beside you, taking the attention away from the sky alight with fireworks of Earth’s greatest display. From your spot on the bench, you looked up at Scott as he took in the sights you were captivated by.

It’d been so long since he’d been home that even in the darkness of your favorite storm, he’d still steal your attention. A blanket in hand, he was comfort embedded in the walls.

“I guess this is better than whatever’s on the tv, huh?” He commented gruffly. You shrugged, leaning your head back onto the siding.

“I can watch tv all day,” you countered. “It’s not everyday you get views like this.”

The lights captured you again. Breaking and busting through the clouds far away. It was beautifully bright.

“No,” he bit the inside of his cheek and shut the door. “You don’t.”

“Are you gonna sit with me?”

Scott knew you did not need to ask for him to sit with you yet you always did. An offer he couldn’t refuse—his heart wouldn’t let him. You stuck stakes into them and dragged him along for the rest of eternity in his eyes.

He hummed, holding out his hand covered with the blanket that normally rested on the back of the couch. Scott knocked his head to the side in instruction for you to move aside.

You shuffled to the end of the bench but knew it wasn’t enough. Therefore, you stood up, allowing him the space to sit on the furthest edge of the bench. Scott bent a knee, offering a hand and twinkle in his eye to you.

“Oh, look at you,” you quipped. “Such a gentleman.”

He tugged on your hand which only caused you to tumble into him. Knees meeting the bench with a thud, you caught yourself on his chest. His breath fanned your face as his chest lifted in a chuckle at your expense.

“I’m always a gentleman,” he feigned. “I don’t think you’d let me walk through the door if it wasn’t.”

“Well I don’t know if this is a gentleman’s way of handling their lover.”

A ghost of a smile met his lips. His eyes bared down to your lips before he pecked yours gently.

“There’s plenty of ways I can hold you if you ask nicely enough.”

“Uh huh,” you laughed. He let you go to turn your back to him before sitting down in the space between his legs. “How about you just hold me for now and we can decide on the rest later.”

Scott took the blanket he had brought and laid it over you both.

“You’ve got yourself a deal there, baby.”

You rested against his chest as the rain continued to rush to the ground. The sound, like before, drowned out everything else that didn’t matter as much as the shallow breathed of Scott and the hum of a constant pour.

It was perfect.

All of the love was filling a room that expanded beyond the porch of your house. You leaned your head back, relishing the feel of his head against yours as his arm wrapped around your front and held you securely. You’d bend every piece of you to rest forever in this position.

It was heaven.

“Hey,” against the rain, Scott’s voice murmured into your ear deep and calm. You turned your head into him as a signal of an answer.

“I love you,” he whispered.

And yeah, maybe it was more than heaven. Maybe it was something far better, more real than anything you had the imagination to conjure. To be loved unconditionally in the honesty of a stubborn man’s silence was a reward far beyond the peace only dreamt.

You were in your own heaven—one you were so lucky to have.

A/N: thanks for reading! As always comments, reblog, and likes are always appreciated. I love hearing from all of you!!

Also this is not proofed at all as of today. Sorry for errors.

[la2yn0va]

lf you have the time to make part 4 of friends after the events of part 2 stellaron hunter m/n take a break so he go to xianzhou to see the event ( moze,jiaoqiu,any chance feixiao saw then and go to he friendly enough to talk them) image feixiao saw m/n watching her.fighting hoolay and joined her and fight along side any characters of your choice

BTW you will have finished it I don't know what happened next BC I will have a break to HSR so yeah I WANT FLUFF AND ANGST (oh boy this one will be different)

Friends…?

Note: 2.5 is out, I can finally do this! This can be taken as romantic or Platonic.

———

Kafka: M/n~

M/n: Kafka.

The two greeted each other. M/n cracked his neck and walked over to her.

M/n: So what’s happening? Was firefly talking shit again?

Kafka: Hah. Since when did firefly ever do such things? Are you still held up about our little ‘bounty’ competition?

M/n: Your god damn right I am! She came in outta NOWHERE and took my place as the second most dangerous stellaron hunter! Fuck that! She used a whole as fucking mech suit to do that!

Kafka watched, with an amused smile. It’s always a joy to see m/n rant on about this like an irritated child. She let him talk for a bit more, before patting his face.

Kafka: Now now. As much as I’m enjoying this, I’m afraid you have a mission~

M/n: Hah? I do?

Kafka nodded

M/n: FUCK!

He flicked his body around, walking around before stopping and taking a breath.

M/n: Come on! I had to take care of that little trailblazer in belabog and the xianzhou abit before it was reveled I was a stellaron..— WHATEVER—! Sigh, what’s the mission?

Kafka: Similar to fireflies mission in penacony. You’re going back to the xianzhou. Elio has seen that you must find something there. That and, you must lend a helping hand when the problem comes.

M/n: Back to the xianzhou? and I have to find something…is it something internal like firefly…when do I leave?

Kafka: You have 5 minutes before wolfie teleports you somewhere safe at the luofu. Put on your best outfit, handsome.

She waved before walking out of his room. M/n stood there for a minute before sighing.

M/n: Firefly found something at penacony, and now me… is Elio trying to heal us or something? No… we have nothing to lose anyway… why would destiny bother with that?

-Timeskip-

M/n had been at the xianzhou for not even 2 hours and shit had already hit the fan. Guess that’s the xianzhou specialty nowadays. M/n had been walking around, rooftop to rooftop, trying to find anything.

He did see the nameless and played around with them for a bit, before leaving. And now, hoolay had escaped and his friend jiaoqiu had been captured as hostage.

M/n cursed at the whole situation. A part of him still was a cloud knight, seeing everything go to shit had stung him, but it wasn’t what bothered him. Honesty, the whole luofu could get destroyed and he wouldn’t care. But the borisin have his friend!

As he was searching for him, many unpleasant memories came rushing back to him. How he left the yaoqing, how he joined the stellaron hunters to revert himself back to how he was before he was forced to face an identity and internal crisis after meeting his ‘o so great mother’ how he regretted the way he left, but ultimately he accepted all this.

He eventually came across moze, trailblazer, and feixiao. He stopped, seeing how injured Moze was and listened in to their conversation, learning that hoolay was headed to the ship where the war dance was being held.

He immediately headed there, managing to jump his way up there. He quickly searched the entire ship, finding some borisin and killing then off after asking for jiaoqiu’s location. Apparently only hoolay knew. Much to his annoyance and slight excitement. He felt the ship shake and immediately sped up to the arena, seeing feixiao face off with hoolay.

He watched silently. Should he help? Why should he…?! It was HER fault why Jiaoqiu got kidnapped in the first place…. No.. no he’s just being childish. He jumped up and landed a diving kick onto the warheads jaw, having enough strength and rage to break his jaw.

Feixiao, March, Yanqing, and yunli watched in pure shock. Stellaron hunter m/n was here! But he was helping them!? M/n didn’t face them yet, he landed on the ground before turning around and slamming a fist onto hoolay’s chest, pushing him away from them.

March & Feixiao: M-M/n!?

Yunli & Yanqing: Stellaron hunter!?

M/n: I see I’m famous

He joked turning to face them, well mostly feixiao. Walking towards her, she clicked her tongue before getting ready to fight.

M/n: Your pointing that at the wrong person.

Feixiao: What’re you doing here!

M/n: Tsk. You see me after our little meeting in the interrogation room and this is how you react? Typical. I’m here to help fix YOUR fuck up.

Feixiao: M-my.. what’re you—

M/n: Jiaoqiu is captured. So point your damn blade at that mutt over there!

He stood besides her, talking out his own dual blades. Feixiao could only stare in surprise. She knew that m/n’s meant to make her feel guilty for Jiaoqiu, which worked, but… she can’t help but feel happy that he’s here, fighting along side her once more.

Feixiao: Fine.

March, Yunli, Yanqing: WHAT!!?

M/n: You three are still here?

Feixiao: Relax. Right now we have a common enemy. And that’s hoolay. We’ll deal with the m/n situation later!

M/n: Glad you care about me THAT much!

He bit back as feixiao smiled. Hoolay roared and ran towards the duo as they dashed in. The two began to bombard hoolay, their old teamwork slowly reviving and putting on a show for anyone who watched.

Feixiao couldn’t help but have a smile carved in her face. What was meant to be an emotional turmoil for her was quelled with m/n’s presence here. Just like back then. How it should’ve been, how it SHOULD be.

Hoolay was quickly defeated, but then ripped his heart out and threw it in the sky, infecting foxian’s with moon rage. Feixiao however, used her power to swallow the crimson moon, becoming the enemy. The trio swordsmaters wanted to help. But m/n refused, out right kicking them down to the luofu, leaving the arena with only HIM and feixiao.

-Inside Feixiao’s Mind-

Hoolay: Ahh.. that man. M/n? Possibly your biggest regret.

Hoolay teased as an imagine if a confused and crying m/n appeared in front of him and feixiao. Feixiao’s eyes widened as she stared at this afterimage.

M/n: I hate this… why do I even care!? Why should I care!!? I DONT GET IT!! WHAT THE HELL AM I MEANT TO FELL HERE!! AM I EVEN HUMAN!!? HELP!! WOULD SOMEONE JUST… HELP!!

It yelled, making feixiao wince at the sight and hoolay laugh.

Hoolay: The “lacking” general. Lacking in worries, regrets, and rivals! Hahahaha!! What a pathetic front! This one man destroys that foolish title of yours!

Another afterimagine appeared, showing m/n standing ontop of corpses of abominations and borisin, His eyes looked dead, his body limp.

Hoolay: Instead of helping your ‘friend’ you sent him off to fight in a war! And that’s when he realized how you truly felt about him! You only ever saw him as a soilder!

Feixiao’s eyes stung as she walked up to the afterimagine. Which changed to make its head stare ahead, right where Feixiao stood.

Hoolay: A capable warrior indeed! A powerful solider that was meant to be used by their superior! A remarkable weapon! That’s all you ever saw him as. And he knows it!

M/n: I’m…not even human. When have I ever been… even to the cloud knights. I’m just a pawn, a dog meant to die when they order me to… even SHE sees me as a dog…

Feixiao reached out, putting her and on his face as her saddened eyes stared into his dead ones as hoolay continued to torment her.

Hoolay: You only ever comforted him once, and you made it clear that you just wanted him at his best so he could battle!!

Feixiao: You were never a dog nor solider in my eyes.. your were ALWAYS my friend. You will forever be my closest friend… it’s me… I’m the one who saw myself as a weapon! You were always the only one that made me feel human!

She yelled, before slapping the afterimage away, once again ridding herself of the guilt she carried within herself for all these years. Hoolay didn’t seem pleased as a battle quickly escalated between her and a shadow of herself, the darkest parts of her.

As she held up her waraxe, two people appeared beside her. Two m/n’s from her own mindscape.

Evil!Feixiao: What?!

Feixiao: M/n…

Past M/n: You look troubled general~ don’t tell me that your scared I’ll take your general title~

Present m/n: Get your head together. You always pull me into your shit feixiao.

She looked at the two before smiling as the three got ready to battle hoolay.

-Timeskip, after the battle-

M/n groaned as he flopped against a wall of an alleyway. He finished his battle with feixiao and hoolay, and now he was tired, very tired. But, he didn’t let himself rest, he still needed to find jiaoqiu.

He had to escape from cloud knights and now was pushing himself to continue his search. He decided to head to the alchemy commission, to steal some ornaments. Once he arrived, he saw jiaoqiu! And he was walking!

He sighed in relief, knowing he can leave in peace. He took out his phone and messgaed silverwolf, ready to get teleported away. Only for her to replay “Elio said you still have some people to confront”

M/n: …fuck me…

He sighed before watching jiaoqiu walk towards the waves. He waited as feixiao walked to jiaoqiu and moze reveled himself, but he froze. Should he actually go out and talk to them? Does he have that right anymore?

Moze: Will you revel yourself.

Moze said as they all faced the direction where m/n was. M/n sighed, knowing he should’ve expected them to know he was here. He walked out, holding his side for a few seconds before facing them.

Moze: M/n..!

Jiaoqiu: What..!?

Moze said, shocked that it was him that was spying on them. Feixiao offered him a warm smile, and m/n looked back with slight irritation. Looking at jiaoqiu and his much duller eyes, showing m/n his blindness.

M/n:…I blame you.

He said looking at feixiao. Whose face twitched with guilt. Moze looked towards Feixiao, wondering if he should attack, but she shook her head.

Jiaoqiu: M/n..? Is that actually you…!

M/n:…yes.. it’s me—

M/n’s eyes shot open, seeing Jiaoqiu running towards his voice with a clenched fist. He raised his hand but stopped, deciding to not block it. He allowed jiaoqiu to hit him, actually feeling some blood drop from his nose.

Jiaoqiu: You have any idea how much I’ve wanted to do that…?

M/n slowly looked back, swiping the blood from his nose away with his thumb.

M/n: Yeah. Some level of idea.

He said moving his hand to ruffle his hair like he always did back then. Jiaoqiu allowed it to continue for a few seconds before slapping his hand away, not forgiving m/n.

M/n looked saddened by this but understood. He looked towards moze who looked indifferent of the whole situation, but m/n could see through moze. He was happy, and abit irritated m/n was here.

M/n: it is nice to see you again, Moze. Taking care of lil’ jiao for me?

Moze nodded and jiaoqiu looked away after hearing his old nickname. M/n looked towards feixiao. Looking abit more stoic.

M/n: general.

Her ears twitched at the title, shaking her head.

Feixiao: No please. Call me feixiao.

M/n:….feixiao.

He re-greeted, which earned a soft smile from her. M/n sighed, not knowing where to go from here.

M/n:…you all have something to say to me. So say it. I already checked the area. It’s just us here… let me have it.

Jiaoqiu: Your a selfish prick.

Moze: Your an Irrational fucking mongrel!

Feixiao: Your a reckless dumbass that doesn’t think of others first!

M/n, stayed still. Accepting the verbal insults. He crossed his arms and looked away, his mind still in abit of a frenzy. After about 10 minutes of verbal abuse, the three calmed down.

M/n: well…guess all that was warranted.

Jiaoqiu: You think?

Jiaoqiu bit back. M/n just sighed and responded with a ‘yes’

M/n:…well. I believe we’re done here.

He turned around but his hand was instantly caught by feixiao.

Feixiao: Wait!

M/n did as he was told. Standing still, he looked back to see feixiao and her pleading eyes, looking as if she’d die right there if he left.

M/n: what do you want general.

Feixiao:…I know.. you don’t like me. Back then. You came to me for help because you weren’t truly at all good with emotions. So when you met your—

M/n: skip the fucking recap.

Feixiao: Mm—…. I’m sorry. I’m sorry my actions that day, which left you even more in turmoil than you already were in. I’m sorry I was being a general and not a friend. I’m sorry I made you think you meant nothing to me… in truth you meant everything to me. You WERE everything. Not just to me, but to us.

She said, holding out an arm towards moze and jiaoqiu.

Feixiao: Please… tell me how I can fix this. There has to be a way. A solution! Please, tell me anything. I’ll do anything to prove how sorry I am.

M/n: oh? And what if I want your life.

Feixiao: Take it.

Jiaoqiu and moze released a slightly surprised sound, as m/n held his blade against her neck.

Feixiao: If that’s what it’ll take for you to forgive me. Then I’ll gladly die by your hands.

M/n:….tsk. No need to be serious…. I forgive you…

He said, putting his blade away. Feixiao looked surprised but smiled, allowing the most joyful smile ever to grace their eyes. M/n, released a breath, turning to leave.

M/n: I guess we’re don—

Feixiao: Can you stay longer!

M/n: huh..?

Feixiao: Can..can you come back! Stay with us. Become a cloud knight with us again!

She said desperately. Wanting to spread more time with him, as did moze and jiaoqiu. M/n looked away and scratched his hair.

M/n: i don’t think I—

He was cutoff by a notification from his phone, taking it out and seeing a message from… blade?

Blade: Kafka has informed me to message you. She said your mission was complete, I read your script. If you want another opinion, I’d suggest you either take your generals head, or work on fixing your relationship with them.

M/n: no fucking way he wasn’t manipulated into sending this message!!

He said in his mind, but sighing. Putting his phone away. He looked towards the three and walked back to them.

M/n: Lucky for you, I have time off… let’s..get a party going I guess.

He said, abit awkwardly. Feixiao smiled and jumped onto him, hugging him tightly, much to his surprise. Jiaoqiu also joined in while Moze simply patted m/n’s head.

Moze: Let’s get a move on. I haven’t cleaned your house today.

M/n: You’ve been cleaning my house this whole time!?

-The End-