#this took roughly seven hours

[oury-boros]

leech boy, a jeremy usbourne fanvid by yours truly. shout out to I've got the Keyboard's "The El Dude Brothers - Compilation of every 'eeeeh' between Mark and Jez - Peep Show" on youtube, a master work.

[karmaphone]

'how to draw x thing in y amount of time' how about we stop assuming that every artist is able-bodied huh! Maybe it takes me an extra half an hour to work on any line work bc my arthritis is super bad!! Maybe it takes me an extra two hours if I'm having a bad shaky day!! Just stop putting times on your art tutorials!! That extra information about how long it takes you doesn't make you look informed about art and how it works, it makes you look like an ass

[httpsserene]

Heyy, i was wondering if you could do an Toto wolff x reader. I was thinking kitchen sex?? Like Toto getting turned on because he found out that reader was trying to make him his beloved pumpernickel bread for breakfast. I’ve been seeing tiktoks of Toto and his love for pumpernickel bread, and was just wondering if you could write abt it, though it’s TOTALLY ok if you don’t. Sorry if this was a little messy, this is my first time rqsting something. ♥️

𝐭𝐨𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐲 𝐰/𝐭. 𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐟𝐟

📖𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: you make toto his favorite bread. he’s going to thank you for this surprise properly. 📖𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: 18+ only. explicit. implied age gap. kitchen sex. rambling about bread. unprotected sex. vaginal sex. morning sex. reader and toto are married. beta-read. 📖𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 2.2k words 📖𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: toto wolff x fem!black!reader 📖𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: oneshot. 📖𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗸: can't take my eyes off of you (i love you baby) • lauryn hill

𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲: can you tell i did way to much research on the types of pumpernickel bread? no, well, i don’t care 🙂 i WAS NOT familiar with toto wolff and pumpernickel bread so a quick youtube search opened my eyes to it and uh what can i say, this was born. ALSO: i feel like i’ve self-diagnosed myself; i am ashamed to admit that my kink might be somebody making me their wife…because why can’t i go one fic without making the reader be referenced to as a wife (m sorry i crave love). i honestly feel like it could be better, but y’know i hope i did your request justice (sorry it took me so long, ktober beat my ass). anon! i hope you see this, and i hope all the toto wolff lovers enjoy !!!

the yellow dish gloves on your hands protect your brown skin from most of the heat of the scalding tap water. the sound of your hums airily reverberate within the high ceilings of your open-plan kitchen as you clean the expensive dishes you’ve dirtied. you’ve taken off your wedding ring and placed it on top of your phone in the middle of the island to avoid any possibility of it falling down the drain or getting damaged. 

you woke up a little after dawn, quickly shutting off your alarm to avoid waking up your husband; it’s the off season for him, you won’t wake him up at insane hours when he’s not needed to work. sneaking out of bed was a battle of its own—there were several close calls as you struggled to slip out of the tight hold of the austrian man. it took seven minutes for you to escape his warm embrace, but you made it through by thinking of the surprise you were going to cook up for Toto—or bake up for him. it’s no secret to anybody that the mercedes team principal loves pumpernickel bread, and that he’s very particular about how he likes it. of course, there’s no way you would be able to make the traditional german pumpernickel bread before he woke up—it takes fourteen hours to cook and it needs to rest for an entire day to allow it to form properly into its crunchy, cookie-like consistency. so, you decided to make the simplified recipe that only takes roughly an hour and a half to bake and prepare, while the original takes its time cooking. your husband will have to be happy with the more loaf-like treat until his preferred bread is ready. you’ve never been more thankful to have two ovens. 

everything went well. both breads are prepped and baking away at their respective temperatures, and you’re carefully attempting to clean up the mess you’ve made in the process. you may not have been quiet enough based on the footsteps you hear heading your way. Toto pauses in the doorway and you smile, not needing to turn around to see the baffled expression on his face. you turn the faucet off and grab the cloth resting on the oven handle to dry your hands, “good morning, bär. slept well?” you teased gently with a small smile in Toto’s direction. you take an appraising glance of his form; he’s only wearing this pair of pajama pants covered in the mercedes logo (George gifted him those when the team did secret santa last year; Toto said he’d never wear them), leaving his toned torso exposed for your viewing pleasure, sleep lines from his pillow are still faint along his left cheek, and his hair is ruffled like he’s been running his hands through it. your husband nods half-heartedly, and blinks in confusion as he takes in the sight of you in the kitchen.

you're wearing one of his white button-up shirts—half of the buttons are fastened, the sleeves are rolled up and cuffed right above your elbow. you aren’t wearing a bra based on the way he can see how your nipples are pebbled through the shirt, and he assumes you’re only wearing underwear based on your bare legs. your feet are warmed by a pair of black, fuzzy house slippers, the bottom of the shirt rests along the middle of your thighs, and the collar is shifted to the side exposing your collarbone. your hair is free, allowed to rest however it wants to on this winter morning. he starts, making to finally enter the space of the kitchen and give you a proper morning greeting, but notices a smudge of flour along your jawline. and then he sees the baking utensils gathered in the sink, and a rich aroma starts to permeate the air. it smells slightly like coffee and slightly like dark chocolate—it’s sweet. then, it dawned on Toto, you’re baking pumpernickel bread. for him. his heart flutters; you usually sleep as late into the morning as possible, but today, you woke up at an insane hour just to make him his favorite bread from scratch. you’ve always teased him for how difficult he acts about his breakfast treat yet you sacrificed hours of sleep to please him. Toto’s mushy mindset is broken, as you cock your head at him, wondering why he hasn’t responded to you, and the collar of his your shirt shifts and falls to expose the top of your chest. mmm, yes, he should thank you properly.

you don’t even have time to register toto crossing the space between you, before your lips are interlocked in a passionate kiss. a shocked squeal is muffled against toto’s lips, as his large hands hold your waist steady, and your own hand flies up to hold his head. your other hand rises to tap at his chest frantically, as you begin to run out of air, and toto pulls away with an amused chuckle. dazedly, your hand on his chest pulls back to touch your lips, like you needed further verification that he just kissed you. 

Toto smirks, “good morning, schatz.”

you nod unsteadily, “yes—g-good morning.”

your husband laughs louder at your stutter, and tugs you into his chest for a proper hug, rubbing at the nape of your neck with a heavy hand. the two of you stand tangled in the middle of the kitchen, uncaring of how many seconds fly by, and your eyes flutter shut at the relaxing motion of Toto’s massaging hands. 

“i’m going to fuck you on the island, now, “ Toto informs you kindly.

you startle, pulling your head back to stare up at him with wide eyes. his gaze is serious, and you can’t help how your cheeks warm under his attention.

“well…” you murmur, “i’m not going to say no.”

from there, it’s all a rushed haze. you go from having two feet firmly planted on the tiled floor to being lifted and placed on the marble island as toto speeds through unbuttoning your collared shirt. you try to shrug it off, but Toto halts your motions firmly telling you to leave it on. you hum absently and pull him into a kiss. Toto moans into your mouth, and the sound has your hips bucking forwarding to grind against the bulge in his pants. his hands reaches for your left hip and assists you in grinding against him, and a sigh of pleasure parts your lips. the austrian eagerly slips his tongue into your mouth, and he tastes a bit of sugar from whatever you snacked on while making his bread. oddly, that causes more of his blood to rush south and he breaks the kiss to lean back and tug your panties off. 

you simultaneously pull his pajama pants down, and squirm happily at the fact that he slept without boxers. Toto gently guides you to lie back on the countertop, and coos softly when you shiver from the cold surface; he’ll warm you up soon. he pulls your panties off from where they were dangling around your right ankle and drops them to the floor, kicking them to the side along with his pants. tugging you forward, your ass rests on the edge of the counter and he leans down to press kisses on your throat.

moaning highly, you crane your neck to expose its full length to his mercy. your right hand tangles in his hair to guide him exactly where you want, your left hand holds at his shoulder for support, with your nails digging into the meat of his muscles. Toto pauses, and pulls back to grab your left hand. a broken whine falls from your lips, and you buck your hips upward searching for friction, the slide of his cock along your folds feels delicious. his knees buckle at the sensation, and he forces your hips back down with his free hand, as he pulls your left hand in front of him to look at it.

“where’s your ring, liebling?” Toto asks, warm eyes focused on your bare ring finger. you laugh disbelievingly, amused and surprised at the fact that he managed to feel the absence of your wedding ring, and pull your hand out of his grasp smoothly. you reach behind you and pluck your ring from its spot on top of your phone, and slide it back on your finger. brandishing your ringed-hand in his eyeline, you impatiently try and buck your hips upward to no avail, his one-handed hold on you is unbreakable. 

“okay! fuck me—now, please,” you demand desperately.

Toto hushes you, and holds your left hand steady. he stares into your eyes as he presses a kiss on the wedding ring he bestowed you with. your cheeks burn hot, and you roll your eyes as if your heart didn’t liquify at the show of devotion. your husband guides himself to your entrance, and pushes in carefully—thankful he fucked you open last night. you whimper softly, tender and sore, but you nod frantically to encourage Toto to push further in. he groans throatily as he bottoms out, throwing his head back in pleasure, and your moan harmonizes at the feeling of fullness. the stretch burns slightly, but you’re more focused on achieving an orgasm than the space he caves out in your walls. 

you squeeze your knees around his waist, and grind up on him to encourage him to move. Toto grabs your left leg, bringing it to rest over his shoulder, while your right leg remains resting on his waist, both fuzzy slippers falling from your feet at the movement. it has him sliding slightly deeper inside you, and a spark of pleasure races up your spine. Toto begins to thrust, setting a quick pace from the get go. he fucked you open eight hours ago and the tightness of your cunt has him considering that he didn’t fuck you well enough. the bruises in the shape of his hands on your hips suggest differently. it’s ridiculous, how lost the two you get in each other’s bodies. your moans are punched out of you with every thrust, his cock dragging against your most pleasurable spot every time he sinks in you. Toto should be embarrassed at how quickly this is ending, but your sounds are too erotic for there to be any other outcome. 

he lays his hand on your navel, gently adding pressure over where he’s reaching inside of you, while his thumb circles rapidly over your clit. your back arches sharply as you screech from the unexpected flare of pleasure, raking your nails down his back in thin red lines as you cum at the added stimulation. it’s a multitude of sensations and emotions that had you hurtling over the edge quicker than you thought possible, and Toto has no choice but to follow you into the abyss, unable to hold back his orgasm at the unbearably hot and wet grasp of your cunt. your husband rocks into you through the afterglow, pausing only when you start to whimper in too much, and not feeling good. staring up at toto with a blissed-out smile and half-lidded eyes, you sigh sweetly as he slips out and leans down to kiss you again. the press of his lips is syrupy sweet and you find yourself getting lost under the feeling of him pouring his love and devotion into you—even though you don’t need the reminder—and the timer you’ve set on your phone blares jarringly causing you and toto to jump apart, startled. 

“what the fuck,” Toto deadpans as you scramble around to turn off the alarm. 

you sigh in relief once the aggravating sound is silenced, and nudge at Toto’s hip with your foot, “well—don’t just stand there! get the bread out before it burns!”

the austrian huffs exaggeratedly, like it’s such a chore, and pulls on the oven mitts to take out the pumpernickel bread adaptation after you direct him to the proper oven, not wanting him to disturb the traditional bread baking. the sight of the known headphone-smashing, hothead mercedes team principal completely naked spare for a pair of oven mitts is amusing, enough that you can’t quiet your snort, uncaring of how Toto glares at you. he places the baking tin on the cooling rack you set to the side, and hums happily at the aroma—even though it’s a far cry from the usual bread he prefers. like the oaf he is, Toto reaches to pull a piece of the fresh pumpernickel to eat, but with lightning quick speed you reach over and slap his hand away before he defiles the bread. 

“aht aht! what do you think you're doing? it needs at least forty-five minutes to cool before you can take a slice,” you scold the grown man.

Toto pouts (astounding, honestly), and then he brightens considerably, a sleazy smirk spreading across his lips, “ah? we have time for a second round then, maybe three…” you laugh hysterically, ignoring the way your stomach flips pleasingly at the suggestion, and slide off the counter, buttoning up your collared shirt, and you bend down to pick up the discarded pieces of clothing lying on the floor, “there’s no way you manage to get hard twice in forty-five minutes, old man–” Toto balks at your words–he’s really not old, or at least not that old, “–however, it’s enough time to finish washing the dishes you distracted me from doing.”

taglist: @saintslewi@cherry2stems@lorarri@inloveallthetime@mindless-rock@biancathecool@barnestatic @my-ylenia @katekipshidze @darleneslane @lovingaphroditesworld @smoothopz

© httpsserene2023

[agendabymooner]

SOMETHING MEMORABLE !!! LEWIS H. X FEM!READER (18+)

summary: it’s easy to celebrate something with someone you love — it’s even better if you’ve got something to remember that day with.

content warning: smut under the cut (minors dni!), pwp, use of explicit language, blurb, we don’t proofread we rawdog our writing for best content, protected sex (FINALLY!!! SOMEONE WHO USED PROTECTION IN MY FIC), spitting, sex tape/consensual recording, aftercare, established relationship

note: didn’t mean to moan that loud my b. enjoy xx

something sinful (smut) masterlist

a - n masterlist

o - z masterlist

💌re:moony’s planner is opened!!!

the squelching of her cunt and her vocal moans, alongside his grunts, were echoing inside this pricey hotel suite — and lewis paid well just so they could get the privacy that they sought and deserved after this gruelling racing season. 

everyone, the staff and their mothers, looked the other direction whenever she and lewis got out of their suite every morning after an endless night of rough and passionate sex. 

no one asked questions— instead they would only nod and greet the couple politely as they walked past before looking at each other in disbelief— not believing that these two just fucked like animals hours before and pretended that nothing happened. 

now here she was. her back arched as she laid flat on her stomach, her legs squirming while his thick cock hammered into her cunt. his hips rutting against hers from behind as he grunted aloud, praising her endlessly before tugging her hair up to point at the direction of the camera in front of the two of them. 

“look at you, baby,” the seven time world champion spoke breathlessly, fucking her as his hand snaked up to her chin and squished her face lightly. “y’look so pretty. ‘specially with my cock inside your pussy— do you see yourself?” 

the red light flashed in front of them, their sweaty faces reflecting in front of them as the camera laid there— recording the lewd sounds of their bodies and fluids squelching against their figures. 

her mewling wasn’t an exception to this— in fact, lewis would be so happy to hear her crying out more than his cock rearranging her insides in the recordings. 

“open your mouth, baby,” lewis demanded quietly, with her obliging as she gasped at his length hitting her sensitive spot. lewis hovered above her and spat in her mouth. she immediately swallowed it and lazily smiled in pleasure, gasping again when he began to pick up his pace and fucked her roughly. 

lewis grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her back closer to his chest, her tits splayed out for the camera as he thrusted his hips up to her spot. 

“lewis, i’m cumming- fuck!” she exclaimed, “yeah! right there— fuuuuck~ i’m cumming.” 

“wanna tell ‘em how fucking good you’re feeling, princess?” he spoke lowly, smirking before his mouth let out a moan— a sign that he was reaching his high. 

“‘m i— fuck— love yo- god, so fuckin’ good~” she mewled, her voice croaking as her legs shook. 

her moans turned into screams, strings of curses escaping both of their mouths as they both reached their high. 

with one last thrust, lewis leaned forward to give her a sweet kiss before pulling out. the recording camera was long abandoned as he discarded his used condom and turned off the camera. 

they felt little to no regret about every single thing they’ve done in this room— feeling like they were the only two people in the world as silence took over and euphoria washed over their system as lewis climbed back up to the bed with a warm damp cloth in hand. 

cleaning her up, he tossed the used towel aside before pulling her close.

“this is such a memorable anniversary,” she murmured, pulling him to a slow kiss as he chuckled. 

“happy tenth anniversary, baby,” lewis replied, his hand trailing down her lower back as he continued, “we sure made this a memorable one huh?”

“mhm,” she replied, her eyes blinking slowly before her breathing began to soften and snores escaped her mouth. 

lewis quietly laughed, cuddling closer to her as he, too, fell asleep.

yeah. those videos would have to wait.

[youraverageaemondsimp]

“Meant for him” // Stalker!Aemond Targaryen x Niece!Reader [ONE SHOT]

THIS IS A DARK FIC SO PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS BEFORE INDULGING // based on this request.

WARNINGS: MDNI! heavy noncon to dubcon, canon typical incest, creepy behavior, jealousy, dark!aemond, possessiveness, p in v sex, breeding kink, knife kink, pain kink, dacryphilia(?), violence, + not proofread!

block the tag #MAE:DARK!CONTENT to avoid seeing dark content from me.

You wished you hadn't ventured out alone at this ungodly hour, the keep was deadly silent except your footsteps, you got lost, having not been here for a while and now you were just walking around trying to remember the pathways until you felt someone grab you from behind, slapping a hand over your mouth so you don't scream and dragging you to a more secluded area.

You struggled in the man's tight grip, writhing and kicking, but he remained firm and kept dragging you until he shoved you roughly against the wall, your head making hard contact with the brick wall, causing pain to shoot up your skull, making you close your eyes and wince.

You finally opened them to see the familiar head of platinum-blonde and a violet eye, you frowned, it was your uncle, Aemond.

“Fucking cunt, playing hard to get.” he sneers at you, you felt panic rise in your veins.

Aemond has been after you for many years, from the moment you were born to now, he was ever the dutiful son in everyone's eyes, but to you, he was a force not to be reckoned with.

What started off as curiosity to see his niece at a young age, manifested into pure obsession and twisted love for you, As a child, he had asked his mother to betroth you to him, your age gap wasn't that big, only being two years younger.

Alicent was reluctant at first, because she knew you were a bastard but saw this as an opportunity to make amends, but rhaenyra refused, saying that you were too young, being only seven, and Aemond just nine.

Aemond was frustrated, you were his birthright, you'll be betrothed to him in the future anyway so why not just do it now? He liked you very much, he followed you in secret, when he wasn't studying or training with his brother, he would be stalking you.

He would collect things you left behind to keep as some kind of twisted souvenirs.

And then came the driftmark incident, you weren't involved in any of it, sleeping soundly but you were woken up, being a child, you were terrified when you entered the chamber to find Aemond's face all bloodied up, his face being stitched by the maester, and then you turned your head to the side to find your brothers bloody too, not as much as Aemond, but you rushed over to them.

After they had explained what happened, you felt angry, he insulted your brothers? You also felt bad for him because he lost his eye but it angered you more to see your brothers hurt, you shared the same womb after all.

In that time, Aemond proposed for you to be betrothed to him once again, saying how Lucerys has a debt to pay, but he's willing to move on if your hand is promised to him, and Viserys also thought it was a good idea, but you blatantly refused, in front of everyone.

And then Alicent went crazy, coming towards Lucerys with a knife but your mother had stopped her in time, the situation terrified you, and she slashed your mothers arm when pulling away, and reading the room, Aemond stepped in bitterly, saying it was a fair exchange to de-escalate the situation. Even though he knew deep down that it was never fair.

And that's when his liking for you took a turn, you dared reject him in front of everyone, he never forget about it.

Over the years Alicent has sent few ravens, proposing the same thing over and over again, but you refused when your mother had bought them up, saying you won't be marrying someone that dared to insult your family's honour.

Aemond knew you would say no, but he still asked his mother regardless, Alicent knew her son was going mad and was about to tip over the edge, and she wouldn't know how to deal with that.

Just then, Vaemond bought a petition to question Lucerys' succession to driftmark, and your family returned to the keep, Aemond's mind was racing with your thoughts, he wondered how you looked now, he knew you would've grown into a beautiful woman.

And so when he spotted you with your brothers through his periphery, he was excited and it made him defeat cole in the training, earning applause, before he addressed your brothers, “Nephews, have you come to train?” he asked before focused his attention on them, they were speechless.

“Niece,” he began and you looked at him with a frown, he took in your appearance before a smile grew on his face, “You've grown.” he stated and you never wanted to punch him so bad, that was until you were interrupted by the entrance of Vaemond.

The court had ended with Lucerys being reaffirmed as the heir to driftmark and with Vaemond's head on the floor, cut cleanly by your step father, daemon. You admired him a lot.

Alicent once again proposed your betrothal in private to your mother, as much as your mother loved the idea, she was planning on betrothing you to Cregan stark, and so alicent nodded sadly.

And the dinner? It was a mess.

Everything was fine until Viserys left the room, and the pig arrived, Luke let out mocking laughs looking at Aemond, and so he slammed his fist on the table before picking up the wine glass and toasting to your brothers, he was already pissed off from the news his mother delivered to him before dinner begun and now this ticked him off even further.

'Strong boys.' he had called them, which pissed both Jace and Luke off, and so it ended in such mess, being sent to your chambers by your mother.

You went out for a walk when everyone was asleep, not being able to stand the suffocation in your chambers, you didn't realise then that it would be such a big mistake.

“U-uncle please-” you begged in his grip, his hand shot out to grab your neck, cutting off your air supply which had you choking, clawing at his hands to make him let go of you, kicking your feet.

He pushed you further against the wall before pressing his forehead against yours, “How many years will you have me toiling after you? I fucking wanted you. Yet you refused me. Each and every fucking time.” he grip on your throat tightened, making you see stars and you struggled in his grip.

“You are to be betrothed to Cregan Stark? Do you think he'll marry you if I ruined you?” those words made your eyes widen, surely he isn't suggesting that.

“N-no-” you croak, his hand leaves your throat and you gasp for air, breathing heavily, and then he presses his dagger to your throat, not cutting you but enough to have to stop moving.

He undoes his breeches, pulling out his semi hard cock and giving it a few pumps, you dared not to move because if you did, the dagger would pierce through your skin and you would bleed out.

He began to hike your skirt up gathering them in one place before he pressed himself against you, you sobbed when you felt his cock rubbing against your cunt, he slammed his lips against you in a rough kiss, you didn't kiss him back, just cried. He licked your tears away before pulling back with a smirk. You looked at him with teary eyes.

His free hand cupped your cunt before he rubbed small circles on your clit, you gasp as he presses meanly against the flesh.

Unsatisfied with the position, Aemond throws you onto the ground, you make sure to land on your back and avoid getting your head hurt again, but your back burns with pain at the impact, causing you to wince. Aemond straddles you, skirt gathered in your lap as you cry out, he slaps your face before shutting you up with a hand over your mouth.

“Do you know how much I wanted you? How much I pined after you? You rejected me. I still haven't forgotten.” he spits on your face.

He moves himself down and spreads your legs wide, you try to push him away with your free hands but you fail, he lines up his cock against your entrance before prodding at the opening with it, “A-aemond— uncle, please stop” you say weakly.

He kisses trails kisses up for your neck, before finding your sensitive spot and sucking in the skin there, causing you to whine, he pulls away before grabbing his dagger once again and ripping the bodice of your dress, causing your breasts so spill out of their confines. You gasp when you feel the dagger poke at the flesh, he presses hard for it just sting but not pierce the skin.

He lets go of the dagger before grabbing both your tits and squeezing them roughly before his mouth descends to take one in his mouth, he licks the nipple before sucking on it, your hand flies up to his hair, gripping it tightly, not knowing whether you want to push him away or hold him tight against you.

He leaves your breast with a pop, hearing you gasp, he sat back, admiring how your cunt looks, all wet and dripping, “You're dripping way too much for someone showing such resistance.” he comments before he pokes at your hole his tip, causing you to clench around nothing.

He knows you wouldn't be able to take him, and that he should prepare you first, but he couldn't hold himself back, and without a warning, he shoves himself entirely inside of you, causing you to scream before it gets cut off by him slamming his lips against yours.

The pain was unbearable, he was too big, and you were a maiden too, it was burning and aching so much, but for some reason you liked the burn, the stretch, you thought you were going insane.

He had the basic courtesy of letting you adjust to him, albeit for a moment before he pulled back and started thrusting wildly into your cunt, causing your body to jolt up against the stone floor.

He spread your legs wider, holding them apart from beneath your knees, and you held on to his shoulder for support and threw your head back, feeling pleasure creeping up your spine.

“U-uncle p-please.” you begged, you had no idea what you were begging for anyone, you didn't want to lose yourself and so you tried pushing him away but he didn't budge, and so your hands fell limply to your side as you let him have his way with you.

His good eye was wild, pupil almost engulfing the violet of his eyes, he watched as your breasts bounced up and down as he continued to thrust into your core, before he grabbed them meanly and pinched both your nipples, twisting them causing you gasp in pain.

One hand left your breast to grab the dagger on the floor next to you before he bought it up to your face, tracing it on the side of your cheek, you flinched when you felt the sharp material press against your face, it trailed down to your neck and he light put pressure there, causing the blood to come up to the surface of the skin but not entirely piercing it.

You felt your arousal dripping onto the stones below at that, you felt embarassed, that your body was liking it, he sat back on his haunches and rammed his cock in and out, watching the blood of your maidenhead coat his cock, causing him to let out a small gasp.

He bought your hips onto his lap, the new angle hitting the rough patch inside of you, causing you to mewl, you gripped his arms which held you up by the waist, nails biting into the leather material. “F-fuck, look at your cunt. Gripping me tightly.” he said between heavy breathes, groaning as he felt each and every ridge of your wet heat, making you clench around him.

“Oh gods, you were meant for me.” he breathes

His hand gripped your cheek tightly, parting your lip before he leant down and kissed you, tears flowing freely from your eyes as he licked them and kissed them away. “Shhh, take it like the good girl you are.” he coos in your ears and you just close your eyes.

And then felt the band in your stomach begin to tighten, you knew what this meant, and aemond was able to tell too, by the way your cunt was clenching tightly around him, his hand moved to your bud and rubbed small but fast circles, and you shook your head, “N-no!” you moaned, refusing to let yourself peak but it is violently ripped through when he pressed meanly down onto your clit, cause the band to snap, mouth parted in a silent moan, eyes clenched close.

Your cunt pulsed around him, making him groan at the sensation, he kissed you once again, lips moving against yours in a passionate manner, tongue swiping against your bottom for entrance to which you grant him, too lost in the high.

You were breathing heavily when you felt his thrusts become sloppy, and the way he was groaning, “I'm gonna cum inside of you alright? breed you, watch you swell with my heirs.” he babbles, and you gulp, “beg for it.” he suddenly says and you look at him wide eyed, another orgasm rapidly approaching you.

“P-please aemond—” you groan, feeling his hit the rough patch again, “Please what?” he asks, trying to contain himself from spilling already, “P-please cum inside me- need you.” you beg humiliated and just then your second orgasm hits you hard, causing you to moan loudly.

“F-fuck, I'm gonna make you a mother, you would love that right? and finally I'd be able to marry you, watch your carry my children, you're going to give me so many understand?” he rambles on before he reaches his peak, coming inside you with a satisfied moan, he rides his orgasm out before he pulls out, watching his spend leak out of you.

You thought with a heavy heart on how he ruined you, no man would want you now.

The next morning, your betrothal plan to cregan was called off on your wish, you asked your mother to get you married to Aemond, he has officially ruined you and damned you to himself, and you were only afraid that if he didn't get what he wanted this time, he would go further and kill your any man you get betrothed to.

And so you quickly accepted your fate.

———

[hysteria-things]

✿ PROMISE? ✿ PART SIX.

ʚ♡ɞ 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 | 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 ʚ♡ɞ

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: chris x fem!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you and chris hang out after what feels like forever, and he finds something personal of yours under the bed. because he’s nosy, he can’t help but open it.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing, that should be it :)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2,034

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: changing up some things…

(dividers by @strangergraphics)

𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐒 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐈𝐍 disbelief, the nostalgia hitting him like a truck. nothing and he means nothing has changed about your house from when you guys were little. hell, there still was the wall by the doorway where it had your heights written in pencil. it faded throughout the years, but it’s still visible. his heart hurts when he realizes it stops at age ten.

the both of you talked as if you guys didn’t stop talking at all. “let’s chill out in my room.” you say, grabbing his hand and guiding him up the stairs.

although he was in here the other day, he didn’t get to really look around until now. your room captures you perfectly. you sigh, sitting down on the mattress that is filled with stuffed animals. you pat the spot next to you for him to take, and he does. “sorry if it’s messy.” you bite the inside of your mouth before speaking again. “now what? i was never a good host.”

“whatever you want to do.”

groaning, you get up and wipe your palms on your pants. “what i want to do is go pee. i’ll be right back.”

walking out of the room, you leave chris there alone. he rose himself off the bed and slowly walked around. he laughs to himself. he realized you became more comfortable with him again in the short hours you’ve been together, despite recent events. next to the closet door, there’s a bookshelf with a ton of books on it. the same bookshelf that was filled with dr. suess and harry potter. now, it’s filled with… interesting.

he leans down, reading the spines with furrowed brows. twisted games? the nanny? icebreaker?

stay curious for this one, chris.

next to the flatscreen TV on the wall, you have a lot of other stuff hanging up, one being your varsity award for volleyball. two pictures however stood out to him — besides the dinosaur with sunglasses painting you also have hung up. one of them is a polaroid of you and nate, recently took at the local fair. chris makes a face at that.

the other photo is of these two kids, roughly the age of seven. they look like twins; boy and girl. the rest of your family doesn’t live here, hence all of the pictures of them. because chris does nightly facebook searches to keep up, he noticed these are your cousin’s twins.

smiling softly, he thinks about how much you love your family. you’ve always been a family person, even if they aren’t here. he understands what that’s like. being in L.A. while everybody else is in boston sucks, but luckily they got a few months to be back home.

as he turns around to sit back down on the bed, he sees a notebook sticking out from under it. he doesn’t want to look through your belongings, but curiosity got the best of him. he bends over to pick it up and open it while lowering himself to sit down.

there is a note on the inside of the cover.

he skims through the pages to see how much you wrote and it is a good amount. he stops when the handwriting suddenly changes, meaning that you stopped writing for a while. the other entries had smudges on them except for the ones he landed on. this one must be new.

so, he started to read.

dear journal,

i’m sorry i ditched you for about a year and a half. i don't have an explanation for it, but lately, i’ve been itching to write. i remembered i had this journal - thanks to my cousin bethany for getting you for me for my 9th birthday. i know you’re an inanimate object, but i forgot how relaxing it is to write down my thoughts for nobody except myself.

i can’t help but cringe at what i wrote in the past, and i sincerely apologize.

“i can’t wait to marry kevin one day!”

“omg, he talked to me today!”

“i think we’re going to be together forever!”

i’m gagging just rethinking that moment. come on now.

anyway, life has been crazy lately. shoutout to the sturniolos for ditching me and acting like we didn’t grow up together! appreciate you guys for real. i’m exhausted.

the thing is, i always had trouble sleeping. i know i just said i’m exhausted, but it’s 3 AM and suddenly it feels like i’m wide awake. i just know i’m going to be grumpy for the next few days. a lot has happened ever since they left. i’ve changed, and i hate/love it at the same time.

i’ve been going out more, doing shit i shouldn’t. (don’t tell my parents…) something also happened a while ago that’s still a blur. i can’t put my finger on it. all i remember is that the police came to my door and asked me a ton of questions about somebody.

anyway, life has been happening too fast. i would appreciate it if it slows down a tad. on the upside, my mom said the rest of the family is coming here soon. i don’t know when, but soon. bethany would for sure be happy to hear i’ve started writing here again.

my thoughts are draining the second i write things on this paper, so i’m going to try and get sleep. i’ll update you whenever i can.

- y/n

⋆⁺₊⋆ ✿ ⋆⁺₊⋆

dear journal,

me again: at approximately 4 AM. today has been something else, let me tell you. my mom came up to me yesterday and told me some unfortunate news. can you guess who’s back in town? if you guessed my lovely besties, you’re correct! and do you know whose birthday it is, meaning i have to go to the party? you’ve guessed it! my BFFs!

doesn’t help that i’m on my period right now. i can’t do this shit.

either way, i had to be there for nate. he’s the one that stuck around. marylou will forever be the original best friend in my opinion. she stuck around, too. it’s her children i got a bone to pick with. (except justin. he’s cool.)

seeing them in person for the first time in so long had me tweaking. i admit that i was a bitch to them at the party, and not to be a bitch now, but they deserved it. however, when i saw chris, my first thought was about how he’s such a cutie still. i hate my mind for that.

i tried to ignore them for the rest of the party, and it was semi-successful.

- y/n

⋆⁺₊⋆ ✿ ⋆⁺₊⋆

dear journal,

you will not believe this. nick messaged me on instagram saying how sorry they were and asked to meet up at my house. for whatever reason, i said yes and they came over. we sort of cleared everything. key word, sort of.

they said they wanted me back in their life and apologized for what they did. i still need to give it time, but we do want to start hanging out again soon. i missed those dorks.

that’s until chris stopped me and asked for the note he wrote to me when we were little. the note he promised me to keep, and i obviously did. i’ll tape it here.

this little piece of paper is my favorite thing anybody ever gave to me.

- y/n

⋆⁺₊⋆ ✿ ⋆⁺₊⋆

dear journal,

sorry, i left you hanging for a few days, a lot happened in such a short amount of time.

long story short, jaiden and claudia invited me to a party. chris texted me while i was there. he seemed a bit weirded out about why i was at finn yaw’s party, but i hope he knows i wasn’t there for any specific reason. i do appreciate that he cares about my well-being, even after the downfall.

i got home not long ago and he’s texting me as i’m writing this. he just asked me to hang out tomorrow which shocked me a little, but i said yes.

not going to lie, i’m excited to hang out with chris, even though i have no idea what we’re doing. hopefully, it goes well.

- y/n

chris snaps out of it as he hears you walking back into your room, making him shove the book back under the bed. he feels kind of honored to be a part of your little notebook. “sorry, that took longer than i wanted. i had to deal with something.” you say, sitting down on the bed with a sigh. you furrow your eyebrows at him. “why are you smiling like that?”

“smiling like what?”

“like… that,” you say, circling your finger that was pointing at his face.

“no reason.” he shrugs “anyway, what’s next on the y/n agenda?”

you look around the room while biting the inside of her cheek. “are you hungry? my dad made ribs last night and it’s to die for.”

jumping up from the bed, you motion him to follow you. you walk into the kitchen, flicking on the four light switches that are on the wall. you waltz over to the fridge and open it, going on your tippy toes to grab the container on the top shelf. “how many do you want?” you ask, going on your tippy toes once again to grab paper plates in the upper cabinet.

“three is fine. do you need help?”

you shake your head. “no, i got it.”

chris stands by the island that separates the kitchen from the dining room. he leans against it, watching you plop three ribs onto his plate and only one on yours. you take his plate in your hands and reach up to the microwave. you stick your tongue out and groan. you’re struggling because of how short you are since the microwave is on the wall above the oven.

“i got it.” he chuckles, grabbing the plate from your hand and sticking it in the microwave. his hand grazes the side of your arm as he puts in two minutes and presses start. you cross your arms without looking at him. “i could’ve gotten it.”

“yeah, right.”

sitting there for two minutes feels like ten before the microwave finally goes off. you start running to the microwave but he stops you. “i don’t want you to hurt yourself by reaching for it. i got it.”

he takes the plate out and feels a rib with his finger. he nods. “it’s good.”

“okay.” you say with a low tone. he looks towards you to see you staring at your rib that still lies cold on the plate. “what’s wrong?”

“i don’t think i want this anymore.” you quickly open the container, plop it back in, and stick it back in the fridge.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ✿ ⋆⁺₊⋆

𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐍𝐃 sitting in your room, matt had to come pick his brother up. you and chris are currently standing on the front porch, having one last word with each other. matt is waiting in the van at the end of the stairs.

“it was nice hanging out with you again,” you say shyly. “we should get everybody back together soon.”

“i agree.” he smiles “i’m sure i’ll text you later.”

getting closer to him, you pull him into a hug. it was abrupt, but he hugged you back of course.

then, the horn of the van beeps causing you to jump and pull away. “can you hurry the fuck up? nick is waiting for us at home and is obnoxiously annoying. mom also made dinner.” matt screams from the window.

“i’ll see you around,” chris says, jogging down the stairs. he gets in the passenger seat and grabs the seat belt to strap himself in. matt waves to you, which you graciously return.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ✿ ⋆⁺₊⋆

𝐈𝐓 𝐃𝐈𝐃𝐍’𝐓 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐎𝐑 them to get home. they live close to your house, and the duration is no longer than five minutes. he takes off his shoes at the door as his phone vibrates from getting a text.

y/n😶‍🌫️

thanks for today

i had fun :)

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @raysmayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @sturnolio-luvs @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hertvgirl @whoreforchrissturniolo @hearrtsturns @stars4matt @freshsturns @loverrsposts @sturnlcvr @elliesturniolo1 @tpvmz @user283926392 @lalalands86 @sukiipjs @sturniologirl813 @leahrab @chrissturniolosslut @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @ivyyyyyysposts @mirxcle1 @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @catalina-island @mbsbaby @mattsdollie @pinkfarts @slut4mattsturn @thesturniolos @vickeyzloserz @nononopenono1 @bitchydragonparadise @gdsvhtwa @hrt-attack @bellasfavbisexual @dwntwn-strnlo @venusbabysblog @meerkatzthings @crazychrisl0v3r @maggieflms @strtuniolo @mutualsafe @riasturns @sturniolowhore @antpile00 @ashley9282828 @stingerayyy2 @sturnsjtop @luverboychris @yapperchris @imaslutforoldermen @madisonlovesyouu @poetatorturadaa @chr1sgirl4life @hiimolivia @jo-777 @sturnskiss @st4rgrlll @mattyblover07 @sm-ec @mattluvsmarni @knowingnothingnoel @mattsgirlfrieeend @bambi-slxt @sturnstvr @sturnclouds @bernardsbendystraws

[gallavichsreddie1128]

The Bet (Homelander)

Description: Homelander and Y/N make a bet that ends sexual

Warning: Smut

Word Count: 1,545k

Homelander and Y/N had an odd friendship. Not many people that meet the man put up with him or consider him a friend except Y/N. She knew he was fucked up and not okay in the head but he wasn’t an asshole to her like he was everyone else. She didn’t think much of it given the fact that she seemed to be the only one nice to him. Annie questioned her about it all the time, telling Y/N he was awful and that she couldn’t understand what Y/N saw in him. Y/N seemed to be the only one that put up with his bullshit. Y/N always told her the same thing. “He doesn’t act like that towards me.” Cuz he didn’t. Nobody knew why or understood it but that’s how it was. 

“Black Noir would kick A-Train’s ass. Are you kidding me?” Homelander said. Y/N Shrugged. “I don’t know. A-Train is fast.” “Fast is all he has.” Homelander says. Y/N stood up. “Alright then. Why don’t we make a bet?” She asked. “What kind of bet?” He asked. “If I win you have to be my personal slave for the entire week.” “And If I win..” “That’s up to you.” He smirked. “If I win I get to fuck you. Here on this table.” She was taken back by what he said. Her jaw dropped and he held the smirk. “Wait what?” She asked. He stood up from his chair. “Oh come on, Don’t act like you don’t want me to.” He said. He was a cocky son of a bitch that’s for sure. But she hadn’t really thought about it. She did find him attractive and they had a decent friendship but the thought of them having sex never crossed her mind before. “I can change it if that was too much.” He said. She shook her head. “No, it’s fine. Deal.” She said and they shook hands. 

Her jaw dropped as she watched A-Train fall to the ground. Black Noir won so quickly and easily she really didn’t stand a chance at winning this bet. Homelander had a huge smile as the scene played out in front of him. He wanted to shout “yes” at the rooftops but he looked over at Y/N and she looked defeated. He wondered if that was from the bet itself or from the fact that she lost. Either way his dick was going to be inside of her by the end of the night. She looked at him with wide eyes. “I didn’t even stand a chance.” She said. “Well I don’t know about you but I’d rather be in your shoes than A-Trains.” He said and she laughed. “And besides at least now you’ll be fucked like you deserved to be.” He whispered in her ear. That sent shivers down her body. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath trying to calm herself. He smirked at her reaction and walked away. 

She stood inside the quarters for the seven as she waited for Homelander to arrive. Her nerves were through the roof as she paced around the room. She went and bought a matching set that was red and it was under her clothes. She wasn’t in her costume but she figured he would be. She heard the door open and she stopped pacing and turned to see Homelander with a smirk on his face. She looked at him as he walked over to her. He didn’t look the least bit nervous but she was. “How long have you been in here for?” He asked her. “An hour.” She whispered. He chuckled and got closer to her. “Are you nervous?” He asked her.

She nodded and he backed her up to the table. His gloved hand put strands of hair behind her ear. “Well don’t be beautiful. I’m gonna make you feel so good.” He whispered the last part in her ear and bit it gently. She closed her eyes and sighed. His hands traveled down to her hips and lifted her on the table. She looked at him and they kissed. His lips moved against hers roughly and she pulled back. “Be gentle baby, we’ve got all night.” She whispered against his lips. Her calling him baby turned him on even more but he listened. She cupped his jaw as they kissed softly this time. His hands went under her shirt and cupped her boobs making her moan into the kiss. She pulled back from the kiss and took off her shirt revealing the red lace bra. His eyes darkened at the sight of her. He pushed her so she was laying down on the table and he kissed down her chest to her abdomen. He undid her jeans and pulled them off her revealing the red panties that matched the bra.

He took in the sight of her and sighed. “You are so beautiful.” He said, making her blush. He hooked his fingers in her lace panties but saw a hole where her pussy was showing out of. “So you wanna be fucked in the lingerie?” He asked. “Yes.” She said which made him smirk. He dropped to his knees and got the scent of her wet pussy. She smelled delicious and sweet. He nuzzled his nose in her making her gasp out and grab ahold of his hair. He took a big sniff and moaned. “Fuck, you smell so good.” He moaned and licked a big stripe up her pussy. She let out a loud moan. He took that as a sign to continue. He pulled her legs so they were over his shoulder and he started sucking and licking her pussy like it was his last meal. Her noises were loud and whiny. He was thankful the room was soundproof or some of the other heroes staying there could walk in.

He wouldn’t care if they did but he also didn’t want anyone else to see her like this. Her moans were so pretty and hot that he was getting so hard just hearing her. Her hips started humping his face and she screamed out at the feeling. His nose managed to bump perfectly on her clit making her sob. He groaned at the noise getting more turned on by the second. She was clenching around nothing and was so close. “Homelander.” She cried. “John.” He told her his name and it was all she could moan. Her breathing was getting louder and she started panting like a dog. “John, I'm gonna cum.” She whined out. He hummed against her and didn’t stop. Both of their movements were sloppy and seconds later she came with a loud moan of his name. He lapped up her juices as they spilled out of her and onto his face.

She pushed his face away once her climax had settled and she felt sensitive. He laughed and looked at her. Her chest was moving up and down fast and her eyes were closed. He stood up and she opened her eyes. She looked at him and was instantly wet again at the sight. His mouth and nose were covered in her slick. “You taste pretty good.” He chuckled. She let out a breathy laugh and sat up. She watched as he pulled down the bottom of his suit. His dick was huge and it made her shiver at bit just the thought of that inside of her. He chuckled at her reaction and pulled her closer to him. “I plan on making you cum 100 times tonight.” He growled as he entered her. She moaned out at the feeling and he groaned. She was squeezing him so hard. “Fuck, you’re tight.” He growled and started moving his hips. She wrapped her arms around his neck and placed her head on his shoulder. His arms were already around her holding her as close as possible.

They were basically hugging as he fucked her hard. The table was making a weird noise but it could barely be heard over her loud moans and his groans. “I’ve dreamed about this moment.” He growled and she moaned in response. She never would have thought that this would be the best sex of her life but it was. His hips knocking into hers. His name was all she seemed to know. He was moaning too but to her that was the hottest thing she has ever heard. Her body was falling onto his as she was getting close to her orgasm. He felt her clenching around him making him whine her name. “I’m so close, baby.” He moaned out and she nodded and looked up at him.

She managed to lean up and kiss him with everything she had. He kissed her back and she whined into the kiss and he felt her cum all over him. That triggered his release and his hips lost their rhythm. They pulled away from the kiss to moan and to breathe. They were both panting at this point and Y/N collapsed on the table. He didn’t pull out of her and got hard again. She looked up at him and he smirked at her. “I told you I was making you cum 100 times tonight.” He smirked. Boy he wasn’t kidding.

[wrennyfics]

Hiya 🤗

If no ones requested this already, Snape giving the reader their first squirting orgasm and talking her through it too 👀

absolutely hell yes i can write this

thank u for the request!!

Warnings: 18+ (minors dni), Smut, Explicit Smut, NSFW, slight degredation, gentle dom sev

~

You tried, failed, tried again to catch your breath. Laying sprawled out in Severus' bed, his head still between your legs, giving you only a few moments of temporary mercy to recoperate from the seven consecutive orgasms he'd managed to draw out from you during the past half hour.

He chuckled quietly, staring up at you with a smug look.

Bastard. You thought. Proud, arrogant, sexy bastard.

"Enjoying yourself, are we?" He said, peppering a few tender kisses on the inside of your thighs.

His teeth ever so gently bit your skin, pulling just gently on the delicate skin close to your cunt.

A shaky exhale escaped your mouth, feeling overly sensitive.

"Sev..." You breathed. "I don't know how much I can take..."

He paused, looking up at you again, breath hot against your cunt.

"Would you like to stop darling?"

Looking down at him, you met his dark eyes. As filled with lust as they were, there was an equal amount of care within them. It was obvious, especially today, in the way he had praised you inbetween each of your seven orgasms, hands stern and gentle, asking for your consent after each one, that he always took care of you. But Merlin, did his eyes darken everytime you begged for more.

You smiled gently, feeling your heartbeat finally begin to come back down to its normal rhythm. You were sweaty, exhausted and overstimulated in a way you'd never felt before. But somehow, you still wanted... More.

You shook your head, sheepishly offering a small: "Not at all."

The corner of his mouth drew up in a smirk and he rose between your legs and crawled overtop of you. His hands gently pushed your shoulders back down to rest on the mattress.

"Greedy girl." He whispered in your ear as he adjusted his weight between your legs. "Always wanting more of me."

A gasp escaped your mouth as he began to grind ever so slightly on you, a teasingly slow, gentle pace, but given how sensitive you were, he may as well have been fucking you.

Severus hummed, kissing the side of your cheek ever so gently. "Tell me what you need so badly, my greedy girl."

You whimpered as his clothed cock rubbed perfectly against your sensitive clit. Completely naked under his entirely clothed body, exposed and desprete, you whimpered against his cheek, hands reaching up to caress his flexed arms.

It came out barely a whisper: "Please, Severus, fuck me."

He groaned, kissing you roughly and reaching down with one arm to free himself from his trousers. He broke free, watching your eyes flutter shut as he teased your clit with the tip his cock.

Your lips parted to protest, but before any complaint could escape, Severus pushed himself in his entireity inside, drawing a loud moan out from your mouth instead.

You shuddered, legs shaking slightly from the pleasure. The many orgasms you'd experienced were enough to prep you well for his size, but at the cost of your sensitivity... He had not even moved yet, instead chucking slightly at your trembling figure beneath him.

"That's my girl." He hummed, leaning back in to kiss your neck.

Gently, he began to thrust inside you. Smirking against your neck as your mouth sang out tiny whimpers and moans. He loved every bit of this. Knowing that every reaction, every sound, was for him. That he was making you feel so good. That you craved him. That you were his.

"My girl.." He whispered against your ear, thrusts begining to pick up in pace.

Your legs began to shake harder, eyes closed tight. Moans flew out from your agape mouth as his pace increased again, now fucking you with a steady, quick rhythm. Each thrust hit that spot inside you, your walls tightening around him, that familiar feeling building in your stomach.

But this time, so much quicker... Had it even been more than 5 minutes? You were already so close... So very close, when Severus had reached down with his right hand, taking his thumb to your clit and tracing slow circles.

You let out a sound that was more or less a scream, eyes shooting open, arms tightening around Severus's back.

"S-Sev. Fuck.. I-" The sentance barely left your mouth.

His pace quickend just slightly. "What is it? Hm? Are you going to cum for me? Again? Do I make you feel that good?"

His other hand began to stroke your hair, thumb caressing away the sweaty strands of hair from your forehead, lips gently kissing on your neck. He groaned, quietly. "Do I make you feel that good, dirty girl?"

You were blissed out, feeling the wave build up, getting ready to ride it like you had a million times before with him. But there was a stirring feeling in your gut, the heat of your cunt, a tightening you hadn't felt before. With every thrust, you felt as though something inside you would explode.

Fuck.

"W-wait, S-sev stop." You breathed out, panting.

He stopped immediately, tearing his head from your neck to look you in the eyes.

"What is it?" He said, concern laced in his voice, "Did I hurt you, are you alright?"

You panted, trying despretely to find the words. Heat crept into your cheeks. "No, no, I'm fine. I just... Something feels... Off..."

Both hands now reached up to cup your face, his cock still inside you. "Off?" He panted, catching his breath as well.

You nodded. "Like, it feels.. Incredible... I've never really... Felt anything like.. But.. It kinda feels like... I have to? Use the washroom?"

Severus's brows furrowed in confusion as you nervously confessed. Only for a moment, as something in his eyes flashed in recognition, brows relaxing again.

"Oh... Darling.." He started, still carasseing your cheeks as he looked into your eyes. "Have you never squirted before?"

Huh?

The look on your face must have gave it away, but regardless, you shook your head gently, feeling almost ashamed and looking away.

Knowing your thoughts, Severus guided your face back to him in that reassuring way he always does when you're upset, whispering: "Hey, hey, my love. It's okay. That's okay that you have never."

You looked to his eyes and found no judgement, no disgust or trace of laughter. Only the same care and lust you'd seen all night.

He kissed your forehead so gently it almost tickled. "Would you like to, experience that with me?"

"I... What.. What happens when I..."

His eyes darkened and somehow all the anxiety you had been feeling just seconds ago disapated. The familiar need creeping back in.

He very slightly cocked his head. "Would you like me to show you?"

You swallowed. Nodded. Nodded again.

And he smiled a sort of smirk, before gently pulling out of you again, only to slam back in harder than he had before.

You gasped, nails digging into his back, head thrust back against the pillow.

With his arms on each side of you, his head returned to the crook of your neck, kissing, biting and sucking. Filling every sense in your body with him. All of him, all over you, everywhere.

His hand trailed down, brushing past your nipple, your bellybutton, down to your cunt. His thumb trailing circles on your clit again, a little harder this time, in time with the fast, rough pace he was now fucking you, the tip of his cock hitting that deep spot inside of you again.

Against his ear, you whimpered a moan that almost sounded like a cry. Nails digging into his back somehow harder as your legs began to shake again, more furiously than last time. Your stomach tightened.

"S-Sev..." You whimpered. "I d-don't know how-"

"Shh darling." He groaned, the sound vibrating against your neck. "I'll show you. I'll take care of you."

He kissed up your neck, up your jaw, until his hot breath was against your ear.

"I'll make you feel good baby."

Thrust.

"I'll give you what you need."

Thrust.

Your entire body began to convulse now. White hot pleasure coursing through you, it felt as if it was in your entire body now, not localized just to your cunt. As if Severus was inside of you, touching every cell, filling every fiber of your being with a pleasure you'd never experienced before.

His thumb continued it's steady pace, the bed creaking with every hard thrust.

Tightening.

"Sev-er-us.. Fuck.. I feel.. I'm gonna" You panted, eyes closed.

He groaned, low and deep. "I know baby. It's alright, I got you."

Thrust.

"I've got you, fuck, that's it, come on." He moaned against your jaw, left hand tightening its grip in your hair. "Relax your stomach now, breathe into it. Let it wash over you."

You tried your best to listen, tried to relax your stomach despite the rapid shaking of your entire body. Focused your breath into your stomach despite the tightening within it. And with it, something snapped, a thread, broke and let go.

Your body convulsed as you came on his cock, cunt tightening as you squirted all over him. Your orgasm wetting his cock, the sheets beneath you, his pants.

Severus groaned, fucking you now even harder, even more primal. As if the pride of giving you your first squirting orgasm had filled him with even more lust. His thumb kept drawing that same circle on your sensitive clit, picking up the pace as you squirted for him again.. And again.. And again.. Crying out and writhing beneath him, tears of pleasure rollled down your cheeks.

"That's it baby," He panted, "Just like that, fuck. Just. Like. That."

You continued to gush all over him, your orgasm lasting longer than you knew possible, trying your best to breathe like he'd told you too. Shaking, whimpering underneath him, you clung to him, pulling him in even closer.

"Shh, darling. I've got you, I've got you my love. Let yourself feel good, just like that."

His pace faltered, hips beginning to jerk as he tightened his grip on your hair, his thumb beginning to pick up it's pace with rapid desire. His own body began to shake against yours.

"Such a, fuck, good girl." He groaned into your neck. "Gonna make me cum like that."

You couldn't stop shaking, couldn't stop squirting, waves of pleasure rolling over you with no end. One after the other.

Severus moaned, loud and deep and muffled against your neck, his hips spasming as he thrusted deep into you once more, cuming inside you and finally relenting, releasing his thumb and his cock from your slick cunt.

He panted against your shaking body for a moment, the two of you catching your breath.

After a few seconds, he pulled you against him, his body flush against your back as you lay in little spoon, his arms wrapped protectively around you.

"Shh..." He whispered, caressing your shaking body. "Breathe, darling."

You drew in a shaky, long breath, trying your best to hold it for a second before releasing.

"Good girl." He murmered against your ear. "You did so well for me."

You hummed, smiling ever so slightly, eyes still closed in bliss. Exhaustion plagued your body, but no more so than pleasure.

He kissed behind your ear, a soft sigh leaving your mouth at the gentle contact.

"Are you alright, my love?" He whispered, fingers tracing circles on your arm.

You nodded slowly, turning slightly so he could see the soft, exhausted smile on your face.

He chuckled softly, kissing your lips and then murmering: "Enjoyed it, did you?"

You nodded again, your smile growing a little wider.

"Thank you, Sev." You whispered, your lips just barely brushing his.

You watched a small smile grow across his face as he looked into your eyes, his gaze gentle and loving. "Thank you, Y/N. For trusting me. You made such a beautiful mess."

You craned your head to look down at the soaked sheets. Heat rose to your cheeks a breathy laugh escaped your lips as you let your head fall back down against Severus's arm.

He kissed you on the lips, tenderly, gently, pulling away to rest his forehead against yours. "I am going to get you a glass of water. You'll need to rehydrate." He said softly.

A wider smile spread across your cheeks, eyes closing again in bliss. "You really do take care of me."

~

la fin

i hope this was alright, this is honestly my first time ever writing smut (well technically second since this is my second fic on here), so i'm very new to this, but i hope it's alright. thank u for the rec <3

[thesuperiorrobin]

Winter season~

‪‪❤︎‬ Pairing: Single Dad!Damian Wayne x Fem!Nanny!Reader

‪‪❤︎‬ Word count: 1.5k

‪‪❤︎‬ Warnings: none!

I do know know if I spelled the write term from father in Arabic correctly, asked a friend who speaks it and she told me she calls her dad “baba”. But if I did use the wrong term or spilled it wrong let me know please!

Christmas seemed to be the only holiday the twins looked forward to all year, but then again what kid doesn’t? The twins are settled beside you, on their feet with red and white plastic balls in hand, debating on which color should cover the tall tree.

“Red should go on the tree,” Amir says, placing the red ornaments on the tree and watching it dangle. The little girl huffs slapping the ornament onto the ground. The plastic ball makes a noise as it comes in contact with the wooden floor. You frown.

“Ew no!” Fatima sticks her tongue at her brother, who’s older by seven minutes. “Red was last year! We do white this year!”

“Nuh-uh!” The boy shakes his head roughly, kneeling to pick up his decoration before waving it at his sister's face. “It’s Red! It’ll look so much cooler!”

“I don’t want cooler! I want pretty! So white!” You listen to the twins bicker back and forth for a few minutes before sighing heavily, snatching both decors off their hands and placing them on the tree.

“We’ll use both this year and that's final” the young set of twins let out grumbles as their little hands pick up their color ornaments and start decorating the bottom of the tree while you stick with the top part they can't reach. A normal person would take about thirty minutes to an hour to finish decorating a Christmas tree, but being stuck with two stubborn children took a lot longer than it should have been. You take a step back to admire the work you and the two children have put in, most of the ornaments fell at the bottom a clear indication that the twins did help while yours were scattered around—barely touching.

Fatima tugs at the hem of your shirt—taking your attention off the tree and onto her. She’s holding something in her hand—they look like Christmas ornaments but they weren’t from the boxes that you had initially picked out. “We made some in class for our last day! Can we put them on the tree?” She seemed to hesitate with the last sentence and all you could do was nod, a bright smile on your face.

“Of course! Where do you want to put them”

“on the top!” They shout. A chuckle erupts from your throat as you pick them up one by one, Amir’s then Fatima's. Their homemade decoration is placed next to each—you examine them carefully. You can tell who’s who by the snowmen are lined up. There are four snowmen on their balls, which leaves you confused.

“Who’s the fourth snowman?”

“That one’s you!” The little girl, who’s still in your arms, giggles. A soft smile forms on your lips as your heart warms.

“Can I light up the tree now?” You nod down at the little boy who gives you a toothy grin and skips behind the tree. It takes a few before the lights around the tree light up and green, red, and white fill your visions.

“Still think we should have gone with white, but this will do” You roll your eyes playfully, bringing Fatima onto the ground carefully.

“Do you have your Christmas list done? Or do you two need more time?” you question, they answer quickly “mines in my room!”

“Mines in my backpack!” And before you can set an answer the twins are sprinting off in different directions. You leave behind and with a sigh, you sit done on the comfortable couch in the room. A smile paints your lips the longer you stare at the colorful tree in front of you. Not long after the twins leave they come running back with a piece of paper in their small hands.

Fatima hands you hers, and you aren’t shocked by the many things she’s asking for this year. You read the list carefully and your eyes land on a certain bullet point.

“A real-life shark?”

“Mhm!” She hums “We learned about them and I thought they were pretty so I want one!”

“Well let’s wait and see what Santa can do” You smile at the little girl and Amir hands you his, he doesn’t ask for much but you are surprised to see only four things on the small piece of paper.

“No toys this year?”

“I’m too old for them” he huffs “I’m a big kid now so I don’t need any toys” You hum

“Not asking for Nerf guns?”

“I outgrew them” his answer hesitated. You scan their list one more time before you send them to get ready for bed, they protest but go on their way, dragging their behind them. A small laugh comes from your throat as you shake your head. The Christmas tree disappears from your sight as you leave the room with the letters still in your hand. The walk to his office is short, as you are faced with the dark brown wooden door you bring your arm up—hand in a fist as you knock on the door three times.

You wait until there is a faint ‘come in’ from the other side. The door lets out a small creek as you open it, stepping foot into the room, there Sits the infamous Damian Wayne, at his desk signing away at papers that lay below him. He places his pen down, forgetting about the papers once he feels your presence.

You wave the letters around with a bright smile “I got their Christmas list!” The letters slide across his desk as you pass them over to him, and with an exhausted sigh, you drag yourself to the couch a few steps away and plop yourself down, head resting on the arm set. Damian scans his children's list, chuckling at His daughter’s list as he reads a few things off hers.

“A shark?” You hum in response. He moves on to his oldest son, head tilted in confusion. “Four things? Not even a single toy?”

“He secretly wants more Nerf guns” He hums. Damian takes a look at your exhausted form, chuckling.

“I assume my stubborn children burned you out today?”

“Wasn’t so bad today, just a small argument about the tree ornaments”

“Fighting over what color they should be again?”

“Yeah, but in the end we went with both red and white. So no more arguing” It’s silent between you two, taking in the quietness before it’s gone. The sound of pen against paper stops and it goes unnoticed by you. Damian’s paper is forgotten once more, taking in your figure as you lay still on the couch with an arm over your eyes. Your breathing is even but you aren’t sleeping, he could tell by the way you softly hum to keep yourself from dozing off.

The soft sound of steps breaks his gaze, green eyes land on his closed door, seconds before it’s slammed open to reveal his blood dressed in colorful sleepwear. Their giggles fill the room—each running to whom they land their eyes on first. Fatima runs to her father, running behind his desk and jumping in his arms, trying to get a look at what lies on top Thankfully Damian hid the letters as soon as he heard them. Amir Runs to you, finding a place beside you seeing as you’re no longer lying down.

“Did you see the tree baba?!”

Fatima exclaims eyes shining brightly as she stares up at her father, Damian shakes his head, much to the little girl's disappointment. “Not yet ‘Amira, I’ve been busy” his accent runs as he pinches the small frown off the little girl's face, Fatima lets out a small giggle, slapping her father's hand off her cheeks.

“The white kinda ruins it” Amir murmurs quickly, and you cover his mouth, frowning. Fatima sends a glare at her older twin, green eyes staring at the side of his face viciously. The small boy takes your hand off his mouth turning to his sister to repeat his sentence to her face.

“I said-“

“he said ‘let’s go brush our teeth!” He cuts him off, not wanting to deal with the Wayne twin's outburst so late in the night, you grab ahold of his hand before reaching your hand out to the little girl who jumps off her father's lap and runs to you—grasping your hand in hers.

“But that’s not what I said” he protested

“Yes it was, now come. Your father has work to finish, us interrupting him means he won’t be able to read you stories before bed.”

Damian can only stare at the scene in front of him, his children clinging to you as you drag them out of his study. His children were never the way they are now, always quiet and kept to themselves, but once you came you seemed to break them out of that habit. You were what they needed and it’s a Christmas miracle that you were able to win them over so easily. The other Nannies couldn’t do what you did, quitting after a week or so his children were so difficult, but he couldn’t blame them they got that trait from him.

Once you’re out of his sight he goes back to signing, but something tells him to look over their list one more time and he does, scanning over until he flips over the paper. His ears tune red and his skin feels warm when he reads the single bullet point.

“Make Miss Y/N our mother!”

Written in bold letters.

[afeelgoodblog]

The Best News of Last Week

1. ‘It was an accident’: the scientists who have turned humid air into renewable power

Greetings, readers! Welcome to our weekly dose of positivity and good vibes. In this edition, I've gathered a collection of uplifting stories that will surely bring a smile to your face. From scientific breakthroughs to environmental initiatives and heartwarming achievements, I've got it all covered.

In May, a team at the University of Massachusetts Amherst published a paper declaring they had successfully generated a small but continuous electric current from humidity in the air. They’ve come a long way since then. The result is a thin grey disc measuring 4cm across.

One of these devices can generate a relatively modest 1.5 volts and 10 milliamps. However, 20,000 of them stacked, could generate 10 kilowatt hours of energy a day – roughly the consumption of an average UK household. Even more impressive: they plan to have a prototype ready for demonstration in 2024.

2. Empty Office Buildings Are Being Turned Into Vertical Farms

Empty office buildings are being repurposed into vertical farms, such as Area 2 Farms in Arlington, Virginia. With the decline in office usage due to the Covid-19 pandemic, municipalities are seeking ways to fill vacant spaces.

Vertical farming systems like Silo and AgriPlay's modular growth systems offer efficient and adaptable solutions for converting office buildings into agricultural spaces. These initiatives not only address food insecurity but also provide economic opportunities, green jobs, and fresh produce to local communities, transforming urban centers in the process.

3. Biden-Harris Administration to Provide 804,000 Borrowers with $39 Billion in Automatic Loan Forgiveness as a Result of Fixes to Income Driven Repayment Plans

The Department of Education in the United States has announced that over 804,000 borrowers will have $39 billion in Federal student loans automatically discharged. This is part of the Biden-Harris Administration's efforts to fix historical failures in the administration of the student loan program and ensure accurate counting of monthly payments towards loan forgiveness.

The Department aims to correct the system and provide borrowers with the forgiveness they deserve, leveling the playing field in higher education. This announcement adds to the Administration's efforts, which have already approved over $116.6 billion in student loan forgiveness for more than 3.4 million borrowers.

4. F.D.A. Approves First U.S. Over-the-Counter Birth Control Pill

The move could significantly expand access to contraception. The pill is expected to be available in early 2024.

The Food and Drug Administration on Thursday approved a birth control pill to be sold without a prescription for the first time in the United States, a milestone that could significantly expand access to contraception. The medication, called Opill, will become the most effective birth control method available over the counter

5. AIDS can be ended by 2030 with investments in prevention and treatment, UN says

It is possible to end AIDS by 2030 if countries demonstrate the political will to invest in prevention and treatment and adopt non-discriminatory laws, the United Nations said on Thursday.

In 2022, an estimated 39 million people around the world were living with HIV, according to UNAIDS, the United Nations AIDS program. HIV can progress to AIDS if left untreated.

6. Conjoined twins released from Texas Children’s Hospital after successfully separated in complex surgery

Conjoined twins are finally going home after the pair was safely separated during a complex surgery at Texas Children’s Hospital in June.

Ella Grace and Eliza Faith Fuller were in the neonatal intensive care unit (NICU) for over four months after their birth on March 1. A large team of healthcare workers took six hours to complete the surgery on June 14. Seven surgeons, four anesthesiologists, four surgical nurses and two surgical technicians assisted with the procedure.

7. From villains to valued: Canadians show overwhelming support for wolves

Despite their record in popular culture, according to a recent survey, seven in 10 Canadians say they have a “very positive” view of the iconic predators. 

Here's a fascinating video about how wolves changed Yellowstone nat'l park:

----

That's it for this week :)

This newsletter will always be free. If you liked this post you can support me with a small kofi donation:

Support this newsletter ❤️

Also don’t forget to reblog.

[cobaltperun]

Lost (31) - Little Fighter

Tara Carpenter x female Reader

Summary: To anyone on the outside, and to Tara’s friends, you were Tara’s fierce protector, the MMA fighter who’d take anyone on for Tara. The Guard Dog, as Amber called you. You had no idea you’d have to protect her from people who claimed they loved her. It didn’t matter. As long as you and Tara had one another there was nothing you wouldn’t be able to survive.

Story warnings: Scream violence, family issues, trauma, angst, certain sensitive topics

Story masterlist / First part / Previous Part

Word count 3.9k

-Shine again, little fighter and don’t let 'em end the things you do-

Tara sat alone in your bed, reading a book at three in the morning. Another business trip made you take a trip to Europe this time, ten days ago in fact. You only started accepting these longer trips after Zack and Susan turned twelve. Now that they were fourteen it was easier for them to take the separation. It still happened rarely, once every four to five months, when it was absolutely necessary. She glanced at her phone, seeing a message from you and the notification of movement from the cameras around the house and she smiled. Just as she read the message, she heard the footsteps in the hall and grinned.

The doors opened slowly, gently so you wouldn’t wake her up as you stepped in, still wearing your suit and with the suitcase in your hand. “Hey,” you smiled when you realized she was awake and Tara got up, meeting you in the middle of your bedroom. You lowered the suitcase and lifted her up, your lips meeting in a passionate kiss. Tara ran her fingers through your hair, missing the feeling of being in your arms as you lifted her up, moaning slightly as she nibbled on your lower lip. “I missed you so much,” you whispered, kissing her once more, desperate, just as in need of her touch as she was of yours.

“I missed you too,” Tara said as you slowly lowered her back down, though you kept hugging her.

“Sorry about the delay,” you took several deep breaths, basking in her presence.

Tara hummed. Ten days truly was too much. “You can’t control the planes, Baby,” she teased you, even if it made you come back home at three in the morning instead of seven hours earlier.

You nuzzled against her neck and then reluctantly pulled back. “Well, how about we make the twins go to bed now?” you smirked and Tara facepalmed. They were entering a bit of a rebellious phase, nothing too drastic yet, but she could see the hints of what was to come.

“Lights are still on?” she asked and you nodded. Well, at least it was Friday night, but it would be a pain in the ass to wake them up in the morning.

Hand in hand you went over to Zack’s room and knocked, barely stifling a laugh when you heard panicked attempts to cover up the fact that the kids were, in fact, not in their beds. The moment lights got turned off you waited for five seconds and opened the doors. Zack was pretending to sleep in his bed, sprawled on it like he just jumped in, his blanket underneath him and pillow far from the head. Susan was curled up on his sofa, at least she had the time to toss a blanket over herself.

You faked a cough and that changed everything as the kids turned to look at you and jumped up. “Mom! You’re back!” they ran into your arms and though it was a bit of a struggle, you managed to lift both of them up. But even if it was a struggle, it truly spoke of your determination to stay strong and in great shape, since you managed to lift roughly 250 pounds.

You kissed their cheeks and lowered them back down. Fourteen and they were still your babies, even if they were now taller than Tara, well, Susan was only an inch taller and Zack was about two and a half inches taller than Tara. Regardless, your babies and Tara felt like her heart was melting each time she watched the three of you together. “Night owls, hm?” you grinned teasingly.

“Sorry,” Zack and Susan chuckled sheepishly.

“We’ll get up early! We promise! We just want to finish the movie!” Susan pointed at the TV and Zack turned it back on, showing they were about halfway through the movie.

“Hm?” you saw trailers for the movie they were watching, the second part of the newest Spider-Man trilogy, The Spectacular Spider-Man 2: Kraven’s Return. “Is it any good?” you asked, Tara skipped out on doing a review on it, superhero movies weren’t exactly her thing. She watched them with you and the twins, but mostly because Zack liked them, and Susan found the action interesting. She could skip out on this one, since they were already half-way through it.

Zack shrugged. “The first was better.”

“Action is good though!” Susan commented, she was really getting into animation, so she liked looking at action scenes to get a better sense of how bodies moved.

You looked at Tara and shrugged, the grins on the twins’ faces grew larger as they knew exactly what that meant.

Tara sighed and smiled at them. “You’ll be up by nine and help us make pancakes,” she decided, they would just sneak back in and continue watching anyway.

“Thanks, mom!” they both went and hugged her, nearly toppling her over, but Tara just laughed. Being a bit too easy on them was worth the happiness on their faces.

They jumped back onto the sofa and you and Tara gave them good night kisses and left them to watch their movie.

For a moment Tara thought back to when the two of you were around their age and you’d sleep over. You sometimes did the same thing, watching movies into the late hours of the night, only neither of you had parents to tell you not to, or do anything really.

“I’ll just go take a quick shower,” you gave her a quick peck as you went back to your room, and you grabbed some clean comfortable clothes.

Tara nodded, though she grabbed your hand and pulled you back into another quick kiss, smiling when she you pulled her in so her body pressed against yours. “Or maybe you’d like to join me?” you offered, and she grinned, very much in favor of that idea.

Safe to say, the pancakes weren’t made at nine in the morning. More like several hours later as all four of you slept in.

~X~

The next weekend you were in your basement gym, just cleaning the equipment. Zack and Susan were playing with two kids from their class, Alphonse and Emma. Good kids, you’ve known them since they started actively hanging out with Zack and Susan.

A timid knock on the side of the garage doors made you look to the side. It was Alphonse, a rather timid, though already fairly tall for his age, blond boy, a couple of months younger than your kids. “Hey, Alphonse, come on in,” you ushered him in, and he quickly nodded, keeping his gaze down as he came inside, hands pressed together and his posture as timid as usual. You heard from Tara he was like that with her as well.

“I, uh, Susan told me to tell you to, I mean to ask you if you could come and take a look at my bicycle tire?” he asked and you nodded, setting aside the rug and walking over to a cabinet where you kept you tools, including the ones necessary to fix a flat tire. It was kinda funny how many skills you picked up since Zack and Susan were born, fixing things around the house, toys and everything else they played with included, were just one of the skills gained over the years.

“Of course,” you still didn’t decide if the kid was just awkward or if there was something else going on, and Zack and Susan weren’t saying anything.

“Thanks Mrs. L/N,” he gave you a tiny smile and followed you outside. Zack wasn’t with the girls, he was probably inside helping Tara with the snacks. Emma was a brunette, about as tall as Zack, she wore glasses, and was definitely more confident than Alphonse, she kinda reminded you of Mindy at times.

“You did it!” she exclaimed and you glanced back to see Alphonse blushing.

“Al did what?” you heard Zack asking as he and Tara came outside with cold lemonade and two bowls of snacks.

“Asked mom for help,” Susan shrugged, and you noticed she looked a bit apologetically at her twin.

“Dude,” Zack scoffed at Susan before turning to the side. “Leave him alone, Emma,” he sat down on the grass next to Alphonse and handed him a glass and filled it up.

You and Tara exchanged glances. “Something we should know kids?” you asked as you took the tire off, it was completely flat, and if you were honest the bicycle wasn’t looking like it was in the safest condition. It looked like hitting the brakes a bit harder, or even taking a sharper turn might lead to an accident.

“Nothing, mom,” Zack sounded a bit harsher than you or Tara were used from him and you raised an eyebrow, especially when Alphonse flinched while looking at you and Tara, as if expecting some kind of reaction.

Your eyes softened at that. It was somewhat of a familiar image.

“We’re here to talk if you need to,” Tara picked up on it as well.

“Speaking of needs. Alphonse, do you mind if I fix your bicycle a bit more? You might fall if you’re not careful,” you said and from the way he bit his lips you figured he knew the bicycle wasn’t in the best condition.

“There’s no need, ma’am,” he still refused.

“Al,” Zack tried to be subtle about it as he shoved him slightly. Well, as subtle as a fourteen-year-old could be. “Can we fix it, mom?” he turned to you, hopeful and you nodded, sitting down and getting to work, tightening the loose bits and changing both tires.

“Want a lemonade?” Tara leaned over you as you worked.

“If you’ll help me drink it,” you grinned tilting your head toward your dirty hands.

Tara rolled her eyes at that and poured you a glass. “Here you go,” she crouched down next to you and brought the glass to your lips.

“Thanks, Love,” you began drinking, enjoying the perfect lemonade Tara made, just cold and sweet enough.

“Tara, could I stay an hour longer, my parents just texted me saying they might be late to pick me up,” Emma requested, distracting Tara as she tilted the glass.

“Of course, Emma, stay as long as you want,” she said, but then her left hand cramped all of a sudden and the last quarter of the glass hit you faster than you could react, dripping down your chin and neck. “Shit!” she quickly wiped the lemonade off your face, but you just kissed the tip of her finger.

“Language,” you teased her and wiped your hands on your shirt before taking hold of her left hand and warming it up while handing the glass over to Susan. “You okay?” you asked her softly.

“Yeah, just the weather,” it was getting a bit chilly. “Thanks, Baby,” Tara smiled and placed her right hand on top of your own. “Guess we both need to wash our hands now,” she giggled and you just shrugged.

“Is it that scar? Can I ask how you got it?” Emma asked causing you to frown.

“No, you can’t,” fifteen years since the last time you faced Ghostface and it was still a sore topic. It would forever be like that, hell, you still didn’t sit Zack and Susan down to tell them exactly what happened.

~X~

Later that night you knocked on Zack’s door. “Come in!” he exclaimed and you went inside, finding him over his physics book, reading about things that were slowly but surely getting too complicated for you. You tried to keep up, both you and Tara did, you showed interest in Zack and Susan’s passions, be it science or art, but despite your efforts they were soaking in knowledge at the pace you just couldn’t follow with all the other things you needed to do.

“Having fun?” you sat down on the sofa close to him and looked around the room. Your son was a bit of a nerd. Over the past few years, he focused more on studying and most of his physical activity came from playing, unlike years back when he would train by your side. His room was filled with books, physics, math, and science fiction. He had some comics, mostly focused on heroes that relied on tech, rather than usual superpowers.

“Yeah!” he grinned just like you did, he looked like someone actually went and combined your and Tara’s DNA. Picking up on habits and your body language while looking almost exactly like Tara when she was his age, only taller, not by much though. As far as appearance went, Susan looked even more like Tara, especially when she let her bangs fall over her forehead. “Oh, yeah,” he hopped to his feet and rushed for his phone. He opened a bookstore page and showed you what looked like a new physics book that came with an experiment kit. “Can we get this? I’ll have enough with this month’s allowance,” he had this hopeful look in his eyes.

“We’ll get it, no allowance money needed,” you ruffled his hair a bit. “Allowance money is for you to be able to have fun, save up all you want, but if it’s for your education or something you’re passionate about, that’s on us as your parents,” you told him, and he hugged you tightly.

“It’s a bit pricey,” he pointed out, and well, it was a bit overpriced, but at the end of the day you didn’t need to worry about it.

“Just don’t blow the house up with that mighty experiment kit,” you joked, and he laughed.

“Thanks mom!” Zack exclaimed.

“Now, I kinda came here for a reason,” you said as he sat down next to you and crossed his legs on the sofa.

The grin on his face faded a bit. “About Al, right?” he asked, and you nodded.

“Zack, if something is going on at his home, or at school and his parents don’t know, it’s better to act now, than to wait for things to escalate,” you told him softly. “You are all still kids, okay? You don’t need to carry all the burdens now.”

Zack nodded. “Al is… well, you noticed he is really timid around you or mom, right?” you nodded, letting him continue. “His parents, let’s just say they aren’t you and mom. They argue a lot, and some guy is bullying him, but he won’t tell me any details, it’s not at school, it’s in his neighborhood,” he explained leaning closer to you a lot like Tara would when she needed comfort.

“Well, bully aside, since we don’t know much, we can’t be direct with his parents,” you told him as you pulled him into a one-armed hug.

“Why?” he immediately pulled away, the defiant look flaring in his eyes.

 “I know from experience. You know Tara’s mother used to drink, right?” they weren’t completely oblivious to your and Tara’s past, they knew both you and Tara had bad childhoods, just not all the details.

Zack nodded, now looking a bit puzzled.

“Well, I tried to confront her about it, let’s just say it took a lot of expensive apologizing and even then, I couldn’t go and see Tara for a month,” that was downright the most expensive bottle of any alcohol you ever bought, and only then did that damn woman let you back into her house. And it was summer vacation, and she grounded Tara, and after she threatened to call the police on you if she saw you anywhere near the house Tara absolutely refused to even consider letting you sneak in. “Some parents are tricky to deal with unless you want to involve authorities, and even then, with the way the system works things might end up worse for Alphonse.”

“What can we do then?” Zack asked and leaned back into your side.

“For starters invite them over for dinner. I don’t know a lot of people that would say no to a free meal. Maybe we can figure what the issues are and find a solution then,” you leaned your head back.

“How can I help him?” Zack whispered almost too quietly for you to hear him.

“You stand by his side. Like me and Tara did for one another, no one can expect more from either of you. You’ll have Tara and me to help you along the way,” you assured him.

Zack remained silent, contemplating whether he should say something, and you just waited patiently for your son to come to a conclusion. “There is one more thing, Al saw you practicing martial arts a few times. He is actually interested in learning, but he is afraid to ask you,” he eventually told you.

“And you don’t think he’ll accept if I just invite him to train with me?” you asked, making Zack nod. “And if you asked him to keep you company? Tell him you’d like to learn the basics, and then you can quit when he grows more comfortable around me,” you suggested and watched as Zack’s face lit up.

“Mom you are brilliant!” he jumped to his feet, phone in hand and you watched as he called Alphonse, the grin on his face lighting the entire room up.

You stepped outside, giving him thumbs up as he waited for Alphonse to pick up.

~X~

While you were talking to Zack, Tara was washing the dishes after dinner. She glanced at her left hand, at the scar covered in soap. She could just load everything in the dishwasher, but with age she found chores to be relaxing. Not that she needed relaxing, you made sure of that. But sometimes it was nice to just stay busy.

As she hummed the lyrics of the newest song she liked, she heard footsteps coming down the stairs, light, so Susan. Yours were heavier after years of not having to worry about someone coming after you and Zack had a bit more bounce to his steps than Susan.

“Hey, Sweetheart,” Tara turned to her daughter as the girl came up to her and just hugged her. “Feeling cuddly?” Tara wiped her hands clean and turned around to hug Susan.

“Yeah, a bit,” Susan had that habit, she would just randomly come up to you, Zack or Tara and pretty much demand a hug. Tara loved it, you loved it, and Zack at least liked it, though Tara was sure he loved it as well. They grew up watching you and Tara be very affectionate with one another, as well as with them, so she wasn’t surprised both of your children ended up preferring touch over other love languages. “Mom?”

“Yes?” Tara could feel the tension in Susan’s shoulders, and it worried her.

“Zack is hiding something, I can feel it,” Susan told her, and Tara resisted the urge to sigh.

“Don’t worry about it, your mom and I will handle it,” she pulled back, caressing Susan’s right cheek gently. “Okay? You just keep doing what you’re doing,” Susan nodded at that, the tension slowly fading away as Tara rubbed circles in her back.

Tara noticed it before. And she was worried, as she naturally should be, but you reassured her. Both of your children knew they could turn to either of you at any time. Sure, Zack was more likely to turn to you and Susan was more likely to turn to Tara, but it wasn’t like Zack didn’t turn to Tara as well, or that Susan didn’t turn to you. So, you believed in them, you believed they would eventually talk to you, and sooner rather than later. They’d either talk to you first, or you’d figure out the issue on your own. And Tara was sure you figured out what was bothering Zack after what happened today. Tara was fairly certain it was about Alphonse, and you came to the same conclusion, so she just hoped you’d be able to get Zack to open up.

“Let me help you,” Susan grinned a bit, relieved that things would turn out fine. And before Tara could protest, she took a cloth and began wiping the washed dishes.

“Okay, okay, did you draw anything interesting today?” Tara asked as she went back to washing dishes.

Susan nodded enthusiastically. “I designed this large castle ruins!” she raised her hands, as if to show how big the ruins were. “I’m going to animate a dragon landing on top of them,” she spoke excitedly, and Tara felt her pride soaring. Her children found their passions, they were happy, they were growing so fast.

~X~

You came down the stairs to Tara and Susan singing and dancing in front of the sink. Tara pretended like the glass was a microphone and Susan twirled the rug above her head while. With a mischievous smirk you sent a message to Zack and began filming the two ladies. A few minutes later Tara and Susan were still in their own world and Zack silently came down and had to stifle a laugh as Susan began pointing from left to right and then swiped two fingers in front of her eyes. All the while, Tara shuffled her shoulders lowering the tone of her singing only to then take a deep breath and sing a few octaves higher than she usually spoke.

And that’s when Zack lost it, clutching at his stomach as he laughed wholeheartedly and you had the front row seats to Tara and Susan realizing you and Zack were there and freezing, the tips of their ears turning bright red.

Tara faked a cough as you went over to her and hugged her from behind. “Sing, my Love,” you kissed the side of her head and then turned to Susan. You patted her on the shoulder and shrugged, no harm done, it was just you and Zack. “Frankly, you were both adorable,” you told them.

“Let’s dance!” Zack exclaimed, turning the music on and doing even sillier moves than Susan and Tara did with a large grin on his face.

Susan shook her head. “Whatever, dork,” she joined him.

You looked at Tara and smiled, offering her a reassuring nod. Things would be fine, they wouldn’t be easy, but they would be fine. And she nodded, relief filling her eyes. You’d tell her everything later tonight, when you go to bed, for now the two of you turned around so your backs weren’t turned to Zack and Susan and just swayed to the music, watching your children having fun. She reached up, the tips of her fingers tracing along your jawline before sliding up to the back of your head and pulling you down for a kiss. Her soft lips drove you mad, and you pulled her a bit closer and closed your eyes.

The laughter, the love between the four of you, it felt like nothing could ever put even the tiniest dent on it all.

You thought dealing with bad parents would be the worst problem you would have to deal with. You had no idea that slowly but surely the pieces were falling into place and that a few years from now you’d have to face the same old nightmare, this time coming after your children.

History repeating itself wasn’t supposed to be so literal.

A/N: Well, well, well, look who came back to this story.🤣🤣 Damn, I felt so happy writing this. Anyway, I am in need of some names, so if you have any suggestions, feel free to tell me. 😁😁

Taglist: @alexkolax @ssinfulprayers (you didn't quite request to be on taglist, but I figured since you singlehandedly made me consider continuing Lost, I figured why not 🤣🤣 I can remove you if you want me to)

[i-am-baechu]

・Title: Bad Boy

・Paring: Playboy! Yoongi x Namjoon’s little sister! Reader

・ Summary: Yoongi has been best friends with Namjoon since he was seven. He knew his little sister was always off limits but Yoongi never followed the rules.

・ Rating: Explicit (18+) 

・ Genre: Playboy! Yoongi, bad boy! Yoongi, best friend's little sister! reader, college! au, music major! Yoongi, Biology major! reader, fluff, romance, smut, and angst

・Playlist - Dandelions - Ruth B. and Heart like yours - Willamette Stone

・Authors Note: I worked so late yesterday that I didn't have time to post this or even finalize it. I really like how this turned out and it's kinda different for me. I hope you guys like it : )

“I guess sometimes you have to lie to find the truth...” – Scott Westerfeld....

She gasped breathlessly and gripped the black sheets in pleasure, “Yoongi! Please-Oh!” He plunged a finger deep inside of her after teasing her clit with his tongue for what seemed like hours. 

“Whiney little slut.” He spat as he smacked her thigh roughly and made his way back to her clit. 

“Another one!~” Her pleading echoed through the dark room and her fingers were tangled in his long dark locks. He chuckled softly and added another finger, pulling his tongue off of her clit to replace it with his thumb. He glanced outside of his window for a quick second to see the moon shining so bright against his pale skin. He should be used to the brightness of the moon but he isn’t. 

“Come for me. Hurry up, slut.” 

She glanced down at Yoongi and couldn’t stop herself from moaning when she saw his smirk. She arched her back and he felt her clenching around his fingers. Yoongi kept pumping his fingers and leaned down to lick at her clit. Before they could continue, Yoongi’s phone started ringing. He rolled his eyes and got off the bed leaving his hook up in a daze. He picked up his phone in annoyance, “What?” 

“Dude, where are you? We have that project due at midnight.”

Yoongi cursed under his breath and glanced at the girl on his bed. She was still in a daze and glanced back down at the floor, “Alright, I’ll be there in ten minutes.” 

“You fucking better be.” 

Yoongi picked up his shirt off the floor and put it on. He picked up the girl's dress and tossed it to her causing her to snap out of her daze, “Are you leaving?”

“What does it look like?” 

The girl scoffed and shook her head, “After fucking me, you're just going to leave me?” 

“That was the plan. You can have water from the fridge and make sure you lock the door when you leave.” 

Yoongi picked up his motorcycle keys and waved at the girl who was looking at him with a shocked expression. He was down the hallway when he heard the girl yell, “Min Yoongi! You are the worst man on this planet and I hope you get what's coming to you!” 

Yoongi chuckled at that and put his boots on, “Not the first time I heard that one.” 

Yoongi left his apartment, well it wasn’t really his apartment. It was his dad’s property that he used once in a while. That was the benefit of having a rich dad who felt bad for neglecting you. He always wanted to try with him and Yoongi wasn’t going to ignore the gifts or benefits. He put his helmet on and drove to Namjoon’s apartment. 

Yoongi met Namjoon by accident during grade school. They were partnered up for a poetry project and since then the two have been together. Namjoon had always understood Yoongi, regardless of how rough around the edges he was. Namjoon understood him. Namjoon was the first person he came to when his parents were getting divorced and he was the first person he went to when he got accepted to his dream college. Best friends forever they said. 

The drive there was quick and he was welcomed with the familiar smell of lavender when he closed the door. Namjoon always liked the smell of lavender. He said it calmed him down and it had benefits. Some shit like that. Yoongi placed his helmet on the table towards the front as he took off his jacket. He cracked his neck when he felt a presence.

He turned his head and saw Y/N standing there holding a tray of sweets. Y/N was three years younger than Namjoon and four years his junior. He saw her as a piece of glass. She was so sharp but one push and boom shattered. They didn’t really talk that much because she was always busy with her friends or school. He also didn’t know what to say to her. Like at this moment. 

She gave him a small smile and glanced down at the tray, “I got some pastries for your study session. I also started the coffee machine, you should have some soon. Hopefully.”  

Yoongi nodded his head and put his hair in a small ponytail, “Thanks Y/N.” 

He glanced at her and saw that she was in a simple white loungewear set with matching slippers. Her hair was braided and out of her face giving him the perfect view of her eyes. When they were younger, her eyes were like a doe. So wide and filled with hope. Now that she was older they matured with the sparkle of hope that never truly left her. Hoping that life wouldn’t hurt her and everything would turn out right for her. She had all the tools to make that happen and Yoongi knew this. 

Y/N glanced over her shoulder and then back at him, “Namjoon is waiting. He’s grumpy today, be patient with him.”

“Is it because of his girl?” 

“Heejin-unnie? Did they get into a fight?”

Yoongi let out a small chuckle and realized that Y/N had no idea about her brother’s love life, “I guess you can say that.” 

Y/N tilted her head at him, “Should I be worried? I just want to make sure he’s alright.”

Yoongi shook his head at this and put his hands in his pants pocket, “He’s alright. He’s a big boy.” 

Y/N nodded her head and smiled at him, “Plus, he has you in his life. Come in before Namjoon gets angrier.” 

Yoongi wanted to ask her what she meant by that but she walked away from him. There were moments where Yoongi found himself wanting to talk to her but he always stopped himself. She was always there but instead of being a wallflower, he saw her as the charming painting that could brighten up any house. Only a few can understand art and he was glad he could. 

He sighed to himself and walked into the living room to see Namjoon with his papers all over the place. His laptop shines bright against his face and the multiple energy drink cans can cause any doctor to write a note. Yoongi sighed and shook his head at his friend, “Dude, are you good?”

Namjoon looked up from his laptop and glared at him, “I told you to be here an hour ago! You were just sleeping with some random chick again, right?” 

“I lost track of time.” He glanced up and saw Y/N standing by the doorway with a frown on her face. A frown on her face didn’t look right, he wanted to see her smiling with her eyes sparkling. He bit his lip and looked away from her, again what would he say to her? 

“Of course, you lost track...sorry, I’m just stressed with this project and-”

“Heejin.”

Namjoon sighed and nodded his head, “Yeah, let’s just focus on the project.” 

Yoongi nodded his head and sat on the ground next to Namjoon. He glanced into the kitchen to see Y/N pouring coffee into a mug. He watched her push some hair back and he smiled to himself when he saw her pearl earring shining away. It matched her perfectly. She brought two mugs out and placed them on the table. She smiled at Yoongi and pushed the mug towards him, “Just like how you like it.” 

“Americano?”

“Of course, well...I added something to it. It’s my favorite sweetener. I hope you like it.”

Yoongi picked up the cup and brought it up to his lips. The dark liquid went down his throat and the taste of brown sugar became the main focus. It was good, it wasn’t too sweet. It was perfect. Of course, she liked brown sugar, it made sense for her. He put the mug down and saw her looking at him in anticipation. He held back a chuckle and nodded his head, “It’s good.” 

She smiled and looked at her brother, “Make sure you drink your coffee. Don’t stay up too late.”  

“I won’t Y/N. Go get some sleep, you have that test in the morning.” 

She nodded her head and she looked at Yoongi, “Goodnight.” 

Yoongi took another sip and nodded his head at her, “Goodnight.” 

He watched her leave the living room and before she went up the stairs, she glanced at him. She waved at him but he didn’t return it. He just smiled at her and he hoped that was enough for her. He listened to her footsteps until he heard her door closed. He could easily map out her room, he's always at Namjoon’s apartment. 

He turned towards Namjoon who was typing away and he sighed, “Dude, we just needed one more part. Why are you so stressed?” 

“I wanted to add more things.”

Yoongi raised his eyebrow at this and shook his head, “Professor Lee said it was perfect, what more can you do?”

“Make it more perfect, start reading.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes at this, It’s going to be a long night.

His eyes fluttered open when the smell of cinnamon hit his nose. He let out a low groan and rubbed his eyes. He sat up and realized he fell asleep on the floor. He glanced at the couch to see Namjoon snoring with the book covering his face. He took his phone off the charger and saw it was seven in the morning. He let out another groan but his eyes landed on the kitchen. 

Y/N had her hair up in a ponytail pouring oatmeal into a bowl. He saw the soft cotton cream sweater dress that made her look so small. He slowly got up and walked towards the kitchen. He leaned against the door frame and saw her washing the dishes she used. He couldn’t help but look her up and down. This was different though. He wasn’t looking at her as a quick hook-up, he was admiring the beautiful person that he had known his whole life. 

“Good morning Yoongi. I made you a bowl of oatmeal.” 

He quickly snapped out of his stare and gave her an awkward smile, “Thanks.” He walked into the kitchen to see the bowl of oatmeal with berries and cinnamon on top. He glanced next to the bow to see a tangerine and let out a small laugh, “Is that for you?”

“No, it’s for you. I know it's your favorite.” 

“Thanks, Y/N.”

“No problem...I’m sorry I woke you up.”

He turned towards her to see her leaning against the sink with a frown. He shook his head as he started to peel the tangerine, “No, I woke up because my ass was hurting from the floor.”

She let out a small laugh and shook her head, “Did you guys finish the project?” 

“Yeah, but Namjoon wanted to do extra credit.” This is the most I’ve spoken to her in a while...

“Of course he did.”

Yoongi took a slice of the tangerine and handed it towards her, “Here.” 

She glanced at the slice and then back at him, “Thank you...I have to go to class.”

He nodded his head and placed the tangerine in her hand. He felt the softness of her palm and the faint lines. It was a feeling he wasn’t used to but he liked it. Y/N took the tangerine and placed it in her mouth. She let out a small laugh and smiled, “It’s kinda sour. Bye, Yoongi.”

She waved at Yoongi and headed towards the door with Yoongi watching her. He saw the way her hair bounced with each step she took and saw a big white scrunchie holding her hair. He continued to watch her until the wall made her disappear and he heard the door closed. He sighed and leaned against the counter staring at the ceiling, Fuck. 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Happy birthday, Y/N.”

She smiled at Yoongi and accepted the present. It was Y/N’s birthday party and she invited all her friends over (which wasn’t a lot). Yoongi was kind of shocked that he was invited but then he remembered he was her brother’s best friend. It made sense for him to be there. Every year Namjoon tried making Y/N’s birthday bigger, it was the least he could do since it was just them. Ever since their parents passed away, Namjoon tried his best to make everything perfect for her. 

She glanced down at the present and then back at him, “Thank you. Can I have a guess?” 

“No, that’s why you open it.” 

She rolled her eyes at him and set the box on the table with the other ones, “Thank you, do you want some cake or-”

“Y/N, it’s your birthday. You don’t have to serve me anything.” 

“But I want to...especially if it's you.” 

They stared at each other until she broke it. Glancing down at the floor and he was glad she broke it. He didn’t know what he would do if she continued to look at him like that. She looked back at him and went to say something but Namjoon entered the room.

“Neh, Y/N. Your friends want to do shots.”

Y/N nodded her head but she didn’t break her gaze. Yoongi let out a small cough and glanced down at his shoes, “Namjoon, you got beer?”

“Of course I do. Y/N likes those fruity drinks.”

Y/N scoffed and turned towards her brother, “You know, you drink them too.”

“Rarely.”

She rolled her eyes and went towards the kitchen while Namjoon laughed at her. Namjoon gave a bro hug to Yoongi and gave him a smile, “Thanks for coming over.”

“No problem. It’s wild that she’s twenty-four.”

Namjoon glanced over his shoulder and smiled seeing his sister laughing loudly with her friends, “Don’t remind me. What did you get her?” 

“It’s not for you. Why would I tell you?”

“So fucking annoying. Let’s get some beer.” 

They walked into the backyard and picked some beer out of the cooler. They sat in the chairs and stared at the sky together. Namjoon took a sip and sighed, “It’s been six years since our parents passed.” 

Yoongi nodded his head and watched the stars twinkling, “They’re always here. They would be proud of you.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah, studying to become a doctor and taking care of his little sister. Who wouldn’t be proud?”

Namjoon let out a small chuckle and shrugged his shoulders. He placed the beer next to him and looked at the sky, “Sometimes I wonder if I made the right decisions…but then I see Y/N smiling..and it makes the questions fade away.”

Yoongi smiled at this and glanced at Namjoon, “She loves you. You're her everything.”

“I wouldn’t say everything…”

The back door opened and they turned around to see Y/N with a wide smile. She walked towards Yoongi and leaned down, placing a kiss on his cheek, “I love it…thank you.”

“Yeah…”

She ran back in and he watched with a smile on his face. Namjoon raised his eyebrow and glanced at Yoongi, “What did you get her?”

“A mini vinyl player with her favorite songs.”

“Damn, that's a good gift. I just got her that biology book she wanted.” 

“I knew she liked music...I didn’t want to get her something that was school-related so...yeah.”  

It was later that night and everyone went home while Yoongi was crashing on the couch. He went up the stairs to go to the bathroom but before he entered he heard a soft melody. He glanced at Y/N’s door to see the door cracked open. He slowly walked towards the door and smiled at the sight before him. Y/N fell asleep with the mini vinyl playing the familiar melody. He quietly walked into her room and glanced down at her face. 

The moon was highlighting her features and her hair framed her face perfectly. Sure, she had drool on her chin but Yoongi didn’t care. It was Y/N, that's what matters. He pulled the blanket up to cover her but he felt a hand on his wrist. He slowly looked up to see Y/N giving him a sleepy smile, “Hey...”

He let out a small cough and nodded his head, “Hey...”

“I really liked your gift, it was my favorite...thank you.”

“I’m glad you liked it. Did you have a good birthday?” 

She snuggled closer to her pillow and let out a small groan, “I did...You made it better you know.”

He raised his eyebrow and looked at her, “How?” 

“Secret.”

He chuckled and carefully picked up the mini vinyl player. He placed it on her desk and turned back to see her eyes closed. He smiled to himself and pushed some hair back, “Happy birthday, Y/N.” 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Yoongi sat in the club with all his friends around him. Namjoon just recently went on a break from his girl and Jungkook just wanted to go out. It was a great excuse to go out. It’s been a week since he spoke to Y/N. Sure he’s seen her around campus but he didn’t speak to her. He wanted to, but it was awkward for him to do so. 

He smashed his cigarette in the ashtray and leaned back against the dark purple couch. He cracked his neck and watched Jungkook flirt with a senior girl and Taehyung doing shots with a group of people. This is how the night usually goes. Yoongi stood up and leaned towards Hoseok, “I’m going to the bathroom, watch Namjoon real quick.” 

“He’ll be fine-”

“He’s getting drunk. Watch him.” 

“Okay.”

Yoongi walked away with his hands in his pockets. He looked around and saw everyone getting drunk. He was sure someone was fucking on the dance floor. He went into the hallway to the bathroom but stopped when he heard a familiar voice. The need to go to the bathroom left him and pure anger took over.

“Jun, leave me alone.” 

“I want you, Y/N. If we fucked once we can fucked again.” 

Yoongi’s eyebrows furrowed and walked towards the exit to see Y/N hugging herself. Clearly looking uncomfortable. Yoongi glared and walked towards them with anger in each step. He pushed Jun and stood in front of Y/N, “She said leave. You better leave.”

Jun looked at Yoongi with wide eyes, “Yo-Yoongi!?”

“Yeah, you know my name. Now get the fuck out before I force you. Leave.”

Jun glanced at Y/N and then back at Yoongi, “Fine, this isn’t over yet, Y/N.” 

Yoongi watched him leave and he sighed. He turned around to see Y/N avoiding his eyes, “Are you alright, Y/N?” She nodded her head and rubbed her arm in a nervous manner. Yoongi sighed and brought her into a tight hug as he rubbed her back, “It’s okay. I’ll protect you.”

“I’m sorry...”

“Don’t be sorry, it's his fault. What are you doing here?”

Yoongi let her go and Y/N leaned against the wall with a frown, “Isabella broke up with her boyfriend...we decided to come here to cheer her up.” 

Yoongi nodded his head and looked around, “Do you want to go home or stay?”

“I would like to go home...I was going to call a-”

“I’m taking you home. I want to make sure you get home safely.”

Y/N looked up and gave him a small smile, “Thank you Yoongi...let me get my things real quick.”

“Do you want me to go with you?” 

“No, I’ll be fine. It’s literally right there, it won’t be long.”

“I’ll be waiting here for you.” 

He watched her walk away and he noticed the simple short black dress she was in. It showed off her figure perfectly and he couldn’t help himself from biting his lip. He quickly looked away and shook his head, disappointed in himself that he looked at Y/N like that. Especially what just happened. He wasn’t better than that guy. 

“Yoongi are you alright?”

He looked back to see Y/N with worry in her eyes, “I was just thinking...”

“Thinking is dangerous.” 

“I should know. Are you ready?”

She nodded her head and walked towards him with this soft aura around her, “Thank you for doing this.” 

“No problem.” 

The two walked in the night with stars and street lights guiding their way. The leaves underneath them remember their footwear and the wind pushing them forward. He glanced to his side to see her shivering a bit. He quickly took off his jacket and tapped her arm, “Take it.” 

She glanced at the leather jacket and then at his face, “You’ll get cold though.”

“I’ll be fine. You won’t though.” 

She let out a small laugh and shook her head, “Very confident, Yoongi.” 

“Have to be.” Especially around you.

He gently draped his jacket around her shoulders and he watched her snuggle into it, “It’s very warm. A good contrast from this cold.” 

“It’s fall. What did you expect?” 

“Touchee.” 

The two continued to walk on the sidewalk and the winds kept pushing him towards her. He stood his ground against it but that didn’t stop him from glancing at her. They stopped when he was in front of his car and he opened the door for her, “Here.”

“Yoongi, thank you again for this.” 

“Stop saying thank you, it's weird.” 

She shrugged her shoulders and entered his car but Yoongi placed his hand on top of her head to make sure she didn’t hit it. She glanced at him but he ignored it. He closed the door and let out a deep sigh with his eyes closed before he headed to his side. He started the car and the drive was filled with stolen glances. 

During the halfway point, curiosity killed the cat, “So...why was that Jun dude bothering you?” 

She glanced away from the window to give him her full attention, “I slept with him once and I said never again.”

“Was he that bad?”

She rolled her eyes and shook her head, “No, I just felt lonely and it wasn’t right to do that to someone. Even if they're horrible like Jun.”

“You're too nice.” 

“You’re not the first person that told me that. Why were you at the club?” 

He wasn’t sure if he should outed Namjoon so he just shrugged his shoulders, “It was a Saturday. Nothing else to do.” 

She nodded her head and glanced back out the window, “You go to the club often?” 

“Eh...it depends.” 

“That doesn’t sound fun...then again that’s just me.” 

It’s not fun but I do it because I’m lonely too...

He stopped the car in front of the familiar yellow paint and unlocked the doors, “There you are.”

She smiled and handed him back his jacket, “I appreciate this...don’t tell Namjoon what happened tonight?” 

“Sure.”

She got out of the car and he followed. He leaned against his door and watched her go up to the door. She glanced over her shoulder and he thought it was funny to see her confused, “Why are you still here?” 

“I want to make sure you get in.”

She stared at him for a second longer and it made him feel warm but he pushed it down. She unlocked the door and turned towards him. He waved at him and they didn't break eye contact until she closed the door. He ran his fingers through his hair and took out a cigarette. He watched the smoke go up into the dark sky to touch the stars. He wondered if the stars understood his feelings at this moment. He watched one of the stars twinkle and he shook his head looking down at the pavement. That would be a yes. The next step was just going home and that’s when the sky decided to cry. 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Yoongi, why did you do it?” 

Yoongi didn’t say anything and continued to watch Y/N patching his hands as he sat on the nurse's bed. Y/N was annoyed with Yoongi and it was clear to him. Yoongi hated that she was annoyed with him but this was different. Yoongi hissed in pain and he watched her roll her eyes, “Y/N-”

“No, Yoongi. Why do you put yourself in harm's way all the time?” 

An hour ago 

Yoongi and Namjoon were walking to their class. It was a simple day, art and music. Yoongi’s favorite classes. Seokjin came out of nowhere and was out of breath looking at them with wide eyes. Yoongi glanced at him and then at Namjoon with a confused face, “Dude are you good?” 

“Y/N needs help.” 

Yoongi’s eyes widened at this and he dropped his bag in a rush, “Where?” 

“Lunch-”

Yoongi didn’t let him finish his sentence and he ran towards the lunch court. He felt eyes on him but they didn’t matter. He slammed open the door and ran towards the group of people in the middle of the room. He pushed people out of the way to see Jun yelling at Y/N who was frightened. He didn’t even know why Jun was yelling at her but he didn’t care. Y/N was scared. That’s all he saw. 

He pushed Jun to the floor and he started to punch Jun with all his strength. All his anger came forward and Jun was going to regret it, “I told you to stay away from her!” He kept at it until he felt a soft touch on his shoulder. He stopped and slowly turned around to see Y/N with tears going down her face. He shot up and went straight towards her, “Y/N are you okay?” 

She didn’t say anything and slowly picked his hand up to analyze them. She frowned, “You’re hurt...let me fix you up.” 

She grabbed his wrist and walked out of the lunch court with pure silence following them. The silence was killing Yoongi. He was so used to hearing her voice lately that the silence was hurting him now. He would do anything to hear her voice, mad or happy. 

“Yoongi, why did you do it?” 

Yoongi didn’t say anything and continued to watch Y/N patching his hands as he sat on the nurse's bed. Y/N was annoyed with Yoongi and it was clear to him. Yoongi hated that she was annoyed with him but this was different. Yoongi hissed in pain and he watched her roll her eyes, “Y/N-”

“No, Yoongi. Why do you put yourself in harm's way all the time?”

Yoongi shrugged his shoulders and looked away from her gaze. She shook her head at this and put the final bandage on his finger, “People care about you-”

“I don’t care about what others think.”

She looked up and stared into his eyes (it felt like he could melt from the intensity), “Fine. I care about you Yoongi. Every time I hear you got into a fight, I worry for you. You have to know I care about you.”

“Y/N-”

“Yoongi, I care about you so much...can’t you believe me? I care about you.” Yoongi had heard his father say he cared about him shit, he heard Namjoon say it to him but this right here was different. The way that she was looking at him was something he had never experienced before. She reached over to cup his face and he flinched a little at the sudden touch. He glanced at her hands and then at her face with a confused look. She licked her lips and took a deep breath. She leaned forward to take his face into her hands and she closed her eyes, gently kissing him. 

His mind went blank at her lips. He stood there unresponsive staring at her face now that she was so close. It was clear that she wasn’t giving up because she stayed kissing his lips. After a moment to comprehend, he closed his eyes and started kissing back. 

Her hands brushed along his biceps and she wrapped her arms around his neck to pull him closer. He groaned at the feeling and of having her pressed against him. He slowly brought her down on her back with the soft white cotton giving her comfort. He rolled on top of her and he didn’t want this moment to end. Without thinking he brushed his tongue against her lips and he felt her smile. She opened her mouth to let him roam around her mouth as she brought her hands against his chest and he started to kiss his neck, “Yoongi...” 

He loved this feeling but deep down he knew this was wrong. This was Namjoon’s little sister. His everything and he was clear that she was off limits. He couldn’t love her. How could a heart like hers like him? This couldn’t happen...she deserved better. 

“Shit.” He pulled away, getting off of her. As he sat on the edge of the bed with his jaw tense. She frowned at this and sat up with a worried expression, “Yoongi? Are you okay?”

The door opened and Y/N stood up quickly to see Namjoon coming in with a cold soda in his hand. He glanced at Yoongi and frowned, “Dude, you alright? I heard you were fighting Jun...he deserved it.” 

Yoongi looked up at Namjoon and stayed silent. He didn’t know what to say to him. He was just kissing his little sister. How could he do that? He felt his hand being pried open and felt two small objects in his palm. He glanced down to see two motrin. He looked up to see Y/N giving him a small smile, “That should help. I’m going to the library, get better.”  

He watches her give him a final smile and gives Namjoon a small rub of a shoulder. He looked away and listened to the door closing. Namjoon looked down at his hands and shook his head, “Did Y/N patch you up?”

“Yeah...”

“Thank you for beating the crap out of him. No one messes with my sister and gets away from it.” 

“Yeah...” 

That night Yoongi found himself at the club alone with a whiskey in his hand. His mind kept going back to the kiss. That kiss made his heart beat so fast and his pale skin turned red. It made him feel and he knew having feelings, especially these ones are only trouble. He chugged his whiskey and ran his fingers through his hair roughly. The dim lights of the club helped his hazed out mind but he knew it wasn’t enough. 

He felt a touch on his arm and he glanced to see a girl looking at him. It was a look he was used to and he knew it would help him right now, “Hey Yoongi.”

“Hey....” 

She leaned towards him and the smell of alcohol made him want to get sick. She gave him a smile with a head tilt, “I’m Sarah. We have music class together.”

“That’s cool.” 

She placed her hand on top of his and winked at him, “Do you want to leave here?” 

“Sure.” 

She stood up from the chair and Yoongi followed her out of the club. She kept talking about something but Yoongi wasn’t really paying attention to her. His mind kept going back to how Y/N looked at him. They went inside her car and they started to kiss. The kiss couldn’t even come close to the kiss he had with Y/N. This kiss was filled with loneliness and with Y/N it was liquid fire. 

He watched her take off her top and he was thankful the light from outside was covering her. The feeling of guilt was eating at him but he had to let Y/N go. This was Namjoon’s little sister. She didn’t deserve him. Why did this hurt so much? 

He grabs a tit and a moan echoes through the empty car. He felt her fingers going through his hair and his mind kept flashing back to Y/N. He shook his head at this and lifted up her thigh making it easier for him to sneak between her legs. When his cock entered, she couldn’t help but moan out loud. He groaned when he felt her clenching and he felt how wet she was. She arched her back and he ran his hand against her stomach to her chest. He pinched her nipple and she couldn’t help but quiver. She felt her orgasm coming and the clenching made Yoongi ready to burst. The faster this is done, the faster he can drink away the guilt.

“Gonna cum, get off.”

She nodded her head and got off him. She leaned towards him to suck him off and Yoongi didn’t stop her. He grabbed a fist full of hair and started to push her down causing her to gag at his cock. He leaned his head back and let out a moan but his mind couldn’t stop him, “Y-Y/N.”

When she licked her lips she glanced at him, “Do you want to go back to my place?” 

“No...”

He tucked himself back in his pants and got out of the car without another word. He didn’t even care if she was hurt at the moment. He didn’t care about much. 

The next morning, he sat in his room as his mind nagged him. He had to talk to Y/N and he had no idea how he was going to address things. That kiss that happened was the greatest thing that happened to him but it could never be repeated. She was already changing him and he hated that. 

He walked towards the library knowing she was going to be there. He walked up to the fifth floor to see Y/N studying biology with her classmate. She was dressed in a light pink cardigan and simple dark blue skinny jeans. Her pink cardigan and his leather jacket were a clear indication of how opposite they were. It was cliche but it was true. She could never love him. He wouldn’t let her. 

“Can we talk?”

Y/N turned around and he watched a wide smile appear on her face, “Yeah, I’ll be right back, Joy.” 

The pair walked away and he glanced over his shoulder to see her looking down at the ground with shyness. They walked until they were at the end of the room and they were hidden by the bookshelves. They were silent and she glanced at his face and then towards the ground, “Are you mad at me?” 

“No...I just wanted to talk.” 

“Was it about yesterday?” 

He sighed and crossed his arms over his chest, “What happened yesterday can’t happen again.”

“What?”

“I said it can’t happen again.” 

She glared at him and she placed her hands on her hips, “What made you decide?”

Yoongi felt his jaw tense and stared at the books behind her, “This shit, it’s not going to work.”

She raised her eyebrow at this and shook her head, “You kissed back...I want you to be honest with me right now, Yoongi.”

“You think I’m lying!” 

“I know you are. You’re scared-”

“I’m not scared!” He knew that was bullshit but she couldn’t know the truth. He watched her look away from him and he was nervous that she was going to cry. One tear and it was over for him. He would do anything to keep that tear away. 

“Yoongi, I want you,” she whispered a shout in his face causing his face to flush. That’s what he always wanted to hear from her but he couldn’t do it. It just couldn’t happen. 

“I’m Namjoon’s best friend-”

“I don’t give a damn. He can get over it...can’t you just give me a chance?”

He looked back at her and saw the determination on her face. This was the most honest he has ever seen Y/N. He couldn’t help but glance down at her lips and then back at her eyes. She shook her head and then she closed the gap between them. He was taken back but her lips against his felt right. His mind was telling him to push her off but his heart couldn’t agree with him. He started to kiss back and he ignored his thoughts for a minute. 

She let out a small gasp when she felt his tongue but quickly granted access. He pulled her body closer (if that was possible). He felt her arms around his neck and he pushed her against the bookshelves. He moved down to her neck and started nipping at the soft skin. She brushed her hands through his hair and she kissed the top of his head. His hands started to travel and when he reached her ass, he couldn’t help himself to give it a squeeze. She gasped out loud and seeing this, he brought his lips back to hers. He reached underneath the back of her cardigan but quickly set her down gently when he heard voices.

“Fuck.”

She looked up at him with that same dazed expression she had yesterday, “I won’t back down.”

He looked into her eyes and realized he had matched his match with stubbornness. He looked away from her gaze, “Fine. Do what you want.” He narrowed his eyes at her while he placed his hands against the shelves, trapping her. 

She bit her lower lip and wrapped her arms around his neck while they stared at each other. She kissed his cheek and whispered in his ear, “I will.” 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Yoongi, are you sure you should be doing this?”

“My dad wants it. He said it's urgent.” 

Namjoon sighed and leaned against his couch, “It’s raining though-”

“I won’t take my motorcycle. I have my car.”

“What’s going on?”

Yoongi turned his head and saw Y/N looking at him with a worried look. She was in her pajamas and she was leaning against the wall staring at Yoongi. He sighed and glanced down at the floor, “Nothing-”

“His dad wants him to deliver this box to him but it's pouring rain. I told him he shouldn’t go but his dad needs it.” 

She glanced at her brother and then back at Yoongi, “Are you sure it’s all right to go alone?” 

“Y/N, I’ll be fine okay? Don’t worry.”

She sighed at this and looked away from him, “Just be careful...”

Namjoon sighed and stood up from the couch, “I gotta call Heejin. She keeps texting me, Yoongi, just be careful. Text me when you get there.” 

Yoongi nodded his head and watched Namjoon walk away in disappointment. He knew Namjoon was angry at his decision but Namjoon knew he couldn’t control him. Yoongi was also the type of man that if he said he was going to do something, he was going to do it. Regardless of what it was. 

Yoongi listened for the door to close and he turned towards Y/N looking at him with softness, “I’ll be going.”

“Come back safe. It’s raining really hard.”

He nodded his head at this and the way she cared for him was making him feel safe. His instincts were telling him to act on his feelings. He walked up towards her to see her eyes looking at him with confusion but he leaned in and kissed her. She closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around his neck to pull him closer. He wrapped his arms around her waist and let his heart do the talking. It was clear she was nervous about this trip and he hoped the kiss would make her feel better. 

When they pulled away he looked into her eyes and smiled, “It will be okay.”

“Okay...make sure you text Namjoon.”

He gave her a teasing smile, “You don’t want me to text you?”

“If you want. I don’t want to force you.” 

“I’ll text you too. Bye.”

“Bye.” 

He opened the door and turned around to give her a small wave. She returned it with a smile. He closed the door and let out a small sigh. He glanced forward and saw the rain was causing small flooding but his dad needed the package. He would help him especially since he was paying for his college. 

The drive there was slow and the rain wasn’t stopping at any time. He took a sip of his coffee as he stopped at the stop light. It wasn’t busy out which makes sense because of the weather. He was thankful for that. The light turned green and he pulled up to go. Out of nowhere, a person came on the other side and with the rain, they couldn’t stop. He saw the headlights and then darkness. 

“Namjoon, let me see him!” 

“Y/N he’s-”

“Let me see him. Now.”

Yoongi groaned at the sound and slowly sat up. Under his palms, he felt softness and he realized he was in a bed. He turned his head to see that he was in a hospital. He was confused but he didn’t care, he heard how distressed Y/N sounded, “Y-Y/N?”

The curtains were ripped open and he saw Y/N’s eyes red, “Yoongi? Oh my god, you made me so worried.” 

She walked towards his bedside table and went to pour water into a cup for him. Yoongi glanced at her and noticed that her hands were shaking. He reached over and grabbed her wrist, “I’m okay...”

He watched her stand there until tears started to fall down her cheeks. He knew had to do something. He carefully pulled her towards him on the bed as she cried into his gown. He looked up to see Namjoon talking to his dad, he had some time with her, “Don’t cry.” He started to rub her back gently.

“I can’t help it. I told you before, I care about you, Yoongi.” Y/N suddenly took his hand into hers, placing a kiss on his knuckle, “I care so much.” 

The curtains opened and Y/N slowly got up from the bed to see the doctor come in. He smiled at Yoongi and glanced at his clipboard, “You were lucky Mr. Min. Your previous shoulder injury wasn’t affected by this accident. Minor bruises and soreness. You can leave in the morning.” 

“Thank you, doctor.” 

He gave one final smile and left the room. Yoongi turned his head towards Y/N to see her already looking at him. He gave her a smile and nodded his head, “Told you I was fine.”

She let out a laugh and shook her head, “shut up.”

Namjoon and Yoongi’s dad entered looking at him with worry. Yoongi’s dad sat down on the bed and frowned, “I’m sorry Yoongi. I made my own son risk his life for a package.”

“Dad, it’s fine. I was the one that said I would do it. It’s my fault. I ignored Namjoon and Y/N.”

Namjoon sighed and shook his head, “At least your shoulder didn’t fucked up again.” 

“I know, I'm grateful. I can leave tomorrow morning.”

Y/N smiled and took a step forward, “I’ll help you around your apartment.” 

He glanced at her with a raised eyebrow, “What about school?” 

“Most of my assignments can be sent online. It’s fine.”

He looked at Namjoon who shrugged his shoulders, “Are you okay with that Yoongi?”

“Yeah, I am.” 

He watched her gather the dishes and head out of his bedroom. It’s been a couple of hours since he’s been home and Y/N didn’t want to leave his side. Yoongi’s dad drove them home with Y/N sitting in the back with Yoongi. As they drove, Y/N placed her hand on his thigh and she placed her head on his shoulder. It was very domestic and he didn’t want to fight her anymore. 

He was lying down in his bed as he waited for her to come back up. He was falling asleep due to the painkillers but he wanted to stay awake for her to come back. She quietly made her way over and sat on the bed, “You can go to sleep. I’ll be downstairs.”

“No, I want you here with me.”

She carefully leaned down, giving him a gentle kiss on his lips, “Go to sleep.”

“Stay with me.” 

They were staring into each other’s eyes with soft smiles on their faces. They both leaned in and closed the gap between them. He slowly brushed his hand through her hair as she glided her tongue over his bottom lip. She trailed her fingers against his chest as his free hand brushed along her knee. He leaned forward to press his lips a bit harder but had to pull back, “Damn.”

“Are you alright?” 

“Wrong movement.” 

She let out a small laugh and shook her head, “Go to sleep, Yoon.” 

“Stay with me.”

“Okay.” 

Three days of Y/N being by his side and everything has been perfect. Today, he asked Y/N to get some fast food because he wanted to talk to Namjoon. This was going to change the course of their friendship, it can go good or bad. He heard footsteps coming up and he took a deep breath. Namjoon opened the door and smiled at him, “How are you doing?” 

“I’m feeling better...it’s all thanks to Y/N.”

“Yeah, she’s a good nurse.” Namjoon sat on the bed carefully and noticed Yoongi was nervous. He turned his body towards him and gave him a worried look, “Are you good?” 

“Can I talk to you about something?”

Namjoon raised his eyebrow and nodded his head, “Sure.”

Yoongi took a deep breath and rubbed his neck nervously, “Y/N-”

“You like my sister, right?” 

Yoongi’s eyes widened at this and he wanted to leave the room, “W-What?”

Namjoon let out a small laugh and looked away from Yoongi, “I saw the way she looked at you...it was clear she had a crush but I don’t think it's just a crush anymore. I didn’t know you liked her until her birthday...I heard you in her bedroom that night. I saw the way you looked at her too. It wasn’t hard to figure out.”

Yoongi glanced down at his lap and sighed, “I’m sorry. I know she’s your sister and I didn’t want-”

“Yoongi, that would be lying to yourself. I wouldn’t want her with anybody else.”

“But she’s your little sister and I'm your best friend.” 

Namjoon sighed and turned back to Yoongi, “I want her to be happy and I also want you to be happy. If you two want to be together, then go for it.”

“Are you sure?” 

“Yeah, I’m sure. Don’t hurt her or I will kill you.”

“I expected that.” 

Yoongi entered the bedroom and she smiled when she saw Namjoon, “Oppa, why are you here?”

Namjoon smiled at her, “I was visiting Yoongi.” 

“He looks better, doesn’t he?”

“He does. Are you coming back home tomorrow or the next day?”

She placed the food next to Yoongi and smiled at him, “The next day, is that okay?”

“It’s fine. I do miss you though.” 

She let out a small laugh and sat on the bed next to Yoongi, “I miss you too but Yoongi needs me.” 

Namjoon smirked at this and glanced at Yoongi with a teasing smile, “Yeah he does.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Nighttime came by fast and Y/N was brushing her hair in Yoongi’s mirror. He watched from his bed with a smile, “You know, only Namjoon has been in my apartment.” 

She raised her eyebrow and turned around in the chair to look at him, “Really? You haven’t brought your hookups here?” 

He rolled his eyes and shook his head, “I would never bring them here.”

“I guess I’m special.” 

“You are special, especially to me.” 

Her eyes widened at this and she smiled at this, “Am I?” 

He watched her put her brush back on the table and make her way to him. She climbed onto the bed with that teasing smile he loved, “You are special to me. You're my girl.” 

He pulled her onto his lap and she raised her eyebrow, “I’m your girl?”

“If you want?” 

She leaned down and kissed him. He deepened the kiss sliding his hands to her waist to her thighs. His fingertips were enjoying her soft skin and she gasped at the touch. He wanted her. Ever since he told her that he was not in pain anymore, his mind started to wander. She moved her hands up his pajama shirt and started to unbutton it. He pulled back a little and raised his eyebrow. She didn’t say anything but she leaned forward to meet his lips again. 

After finishing his shirt, he pushed it down his shoulder letting her fingertips touch his pale skin. She moved her hands upwards and gently rubbed his shoulder. He held onto her waist and moved her shirt up to touch her skin. He moved to the hem of her top, slowly pulling the fabric upwards. Once he saw her in her bra, his heart stopped. She cupped his face and placed her lips on his. Their tongues twirling around each other. 

His hands moved towards the back of her bra, unclasping the white lace. She tossed the bra to the sound and she looked at him with readiness. His hands replaced the fabric and she moaned, as she arched her back towards him. He smiled to himself when he saw that her breasts fit perfectly into his large hands. He rubbed his thumb over her right nipple, “Oh, Yoon.”

She felt his tongue on her sensitive numb while feeling his hands were feeling her up. He held back a groan hearing her say his name like that. It made him feel hard. He switched over to her other breast, giving it the same treatment. She held him close to her chest as if he was going to disappear.  Their naked chests fully touched each other and they stared at each other. She smiled at him and he returned it. Kissing each other was the greatest discovery they both made. 

He trailed his tongue between her breasts until he reached the top of her bottoms. His hand brushed her bare sides and he watched the bumps appear on her skin. He removed the piece of clothing and was met with her white lace. It’s amazing how white lace was the perfect thing to describe her. So innocent and gentle, that’s his Y/N. 

“Yoon...” 

He took off the underwear and he leaned down kissing her neck. She suddenly bucked against his hand when she felt him cupping her, “I want to take my time with you.” 

She couldn’t respond when she felt his middle finger along her wet silt. She placed her hands on his shoulders, “Yoon, please.” 

They slowly kissed but a gasp escaped when she felt a finger getting inserted, “Yoongi, I want you now, please.” 

“Is that what you want?” 

“Yes...but we need protection.”

He nodded his head and leaned forward to his nightstand to grab a condom. He took off his pants and placed the condom on as Y/N watched. She wrapped her legs around him and nodded her head at him. He looked into her eyes before entering and she gasped at the new feeling. His thrusts were slow and she noticed how tense he was. She leaned forward kissing the tip of his nose, “Don’t hold back, I want you Yoongi.” 

He nodded his head and he started to quicken his pace. She had her eyes closed with her mouth parted due to the pleasure. Her moans echoed through the room and it created a song with the rain hitting the window. He moved his hand down and started to rub at her clit causing a loud moan to escape. He leaned down and kissed her lips as she moaned into his mouth. When their orgasms hit them both, time stopped. It was only them and the rain. She trailed her fingers down his back and kissed his shoulder. 

“What are you smiling for?” 

She smiled and cuddled into his chest, “I finally got my bad boy...”

Taglist:

@hoseokteardrop

[greensagephase]

Nonviolent Communication - Part Six

Miguel O'Hara x SpideyFemReader

Summary: A few weeks after your first mission with Miguel, he shows up at your apartment to show you something.

Word Count: 10,161 (Someone needs to take my laptop away from me. I promise this will be the longest part. I won't let it happen again.)

Warning: Soft Miguel; Sad Miguel; It made me wish for summer to end even more; Some readers may not recognize some food items mentioned but it's not too important for the plot, however, you can find a guide right here if you want to know what they look like; Slight mention of abuse

Music inspo while writing:

"Luna de Xelajú" - Gaby Moreno, Oscar Isaac (I love this song so much. The Gaby and Miguel edits with this song make me want to sob each time 🥹)

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine |

Part Six

The trees in your city slowly change colors as the weeks go by. The greenery of summer fades only for nature to offer its orange, yellow, and red hues on your morning patrols. The sun retreats into hiding sooner, while the moon and stars emerge earlier, lighting the early, chilly evenings. It’s finally autumn. Coffee and book shops play autumnal music in the background as quiet and intimate conversations take place in small, cozy corners. The sweet scent of cinnamon and coffee fills the air. People walk the streets wearing cozy and warm apparel, coffee in hands to provide warmth. When you walk on the busy sidewalks of your city to buy groceries, you see the lively colors of autumn behind condensed window displays. You take notice of the faux autumn leaves and twinkling lights. The sight of mums and pumpkins meets you here and there.

You begin to go out to bookshops more often. You spend time with your friends, both outside and during work. Your friendship with them grows stronger. They visit you in your universe as you start inviting them for dinner at your humble apartment. You slowly begin to talk about Peter with them, feeling easier to bring him up each time you do so.

Many weeks have gone by since your first mission with Miguel. It’s not the last one. You find yourself going on missions with Jess, one other person, and him once a week now. You are no longer surprised by it. It’s normal. One week he assigns you to the same side of the city he works on, the next one he doesn’t. It’s a pattern. Each time you work on the same side, he suggests that the two of you swing through the city when you’re both done scanning for anomaly matter.

It's part of the surveillance and learning plan he has implemented, of course. So, this makes perfect sense. Every other week, you find yourselves on the tallest building’s rooftop, overseeing the city. Sometimes you talk briefly. Sometimes Miguel tells you about anomalies that have been caught from that universe in the past, before your recruitment into the Spider Society. Before you knew of each other’s existence. Other times, it’s you who tells him about anomalies you have caught with other colleagues. You listen intently to each other’s words as a form of respect and trust.

You continue to organize Miguel’s lab. With the weekly assigned missions, your time organizing his lab, and the minutes before scheduled meetings that add up, you begin to spend roughly four hours around the founder and commander of the Spider Society each week. You continue to take coffee for meetings, arriving early as always. Miguel sometimes talks to you about the anomalies from the previous week before anyone else arrives, your conversation ceasing when other ears enter the room. Sometimes you take food to him when you arrive to organize the lab. Miguel is no longer surprised like he used to be about the coffee cups, or like the first time you took him empanadas weeks ago. He accepts the food, and thanks you.

Without fully realizing it, there’s a shift between the two of you. So subtle, like the changing leaves of trees in autumn.

It’s the first of November. You walk around your apartment with your fall playlist playing in the background as you do random chores even though it’s ten at night. You do laundry you needed to catch up on. You put away the little amount of Halloween decorations you have. You wash dishes and clean the kitchen. You fix the throw blanket on your couch. You dust your furniture. It’s all a bunch of random chores that you’ve been meaning to do but have been too busy to get done over the week due to missions, patrolling your city, and Halloween. A lot of petty crimes occur on the holiday because people think they can get away with it if they wear costumes.

You’re also hit with a random spur of energy, so you take advantage of it. You move quietly around your apartment, your music filling the space that would otherwise be silent. As you clean, you think about how different this year has been compared to the last three years. You especially think about this as the holidays are right around the corner now. For once in three years, you have plans for Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Years. Peter and Mary Jane are hosting Friendsgiving at their universe. Mr. and Mrs. Morales invited you and the rest of the group for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day to their building’s party and then again for New Years.

It's been so long since you even celebrated. You found no point since it was just you and you cut off your friends from your universe. You smile as you clean thinking how it will be different this year. You can’t help but stop and stare at one of Peter’s photos on the wall. He would be happy, you think.

You’re in your bedroom now, putting away random objects that have made other areas of the apartment their home for days when a multidimensional portal opens in your living room. You sense it. You walk out of your bedroom just as the floating objects in your living room fall back into place. The portal is fading now.

Miguel stands in the middle of your apartment. His eyes take in your living room, lightly decorated for the autumn season. He spots a few pumpkins and faux leaves on your bookshelf. He can smell the scent of autumn candles as the music plays softly in the background. He finally turns around, looking for you, it seems. His gaze falls on you, meeting your eyes.

“Miguel. Is everything alright?” you ask, as you stand just outside your bedroom.

Miguel looks around for a second at the fallen objects. He gives you an apologetic look before he speaks. “Everything is fine.”

You nod, unsure of what to say. It’s past eleven at night and your boss just showed up. Randomly. Or at least it seems so. You see Miguel’s eyes scan you briefly, probably noticing that you’re still in normal clothes and not pajamas despite how late it is. His eyes meet yours again as he briefly thinks about how this is officially the third time he has been to your apartment. You are officially the only colleague he has visited these many times in such a short amount of time. He doesn’t let himself think too much of it now.

“Are you busy right now?” he asks at last, quietly.

“I was just doing some chores so, no…” you say, unsure of where this is going. He said everything is fine. He is calm. That means there’s no threat to the multiverse. No need to change into your suit right away.

Miguel nods and sighs so quietly, you barely register it. “I would like - to show you something,” he says, still meeting your eyes.

You stand there for a second or two, processing what he just said before you nod slowly.

“Should I change into my suit?” you ask, still unsure of what’s going on, but Miguel shakes his head.

“No need to change.”

You nod. “Oh, okay. Then – I’m ready,” you say quietly, still standing just outside your bedroom.

Miguel nods before he clicks on his gizmo, opening a portal again. The portal opens. Its lights shine brightly around your apartment and objects begin to float again. You quickly grab your own gizmo, sliding it on before you approach him. He motions for you to enter first and as you do so, you briefly wonder if you should’ve grabbed a jacket as your sweater is on the lighter side. Your worry melts, however, as you step into Miguel’s lab, where it’s warm. You sense Miguel right behind you, so you step to the side. Your eyes scan the lab, trying to figure out what Miguel wants to show you, but you see nothing out of the ordinary. Then again, you don’t know what you’re looking for.

Miguel is standing next to you now as the portal’s colors and lights begin to fade away. You look over at Miguel and find him looking down at the floor as if thinking. You wonder then. What is he trying to show you? Whatever it is, it seems that he might be reconsidering.

“If you’re not comfortable showing me, it’s okay,” you say quietly, not wanting him to feel pressured to show you now but he lifts his gaze to yours and shakes his head softly.

“No – I want to show you,” he says quietly, and you nod.

Miguel nods back before he turns and starts walking deeper into his lab. You follow him, giving him some distance just in case he changes his mind. He walks to a side of the lab that’s not usually trafficked by people, behind his platform. Your curiosity grows with each second as you walk around it, a few feet behind Miguel. Your nose is slowly overwhelmed by a rich and sharp scent, but you can’t pinpoint what it is. Miguel looks behind his shoulder as he finally stops walking. You see it then, or part of it as Miguel’s body covers some of your vision because he’s a few feet in front of you.

“You can come closer,” Miguel says, sensing that you’re still too far away.

As your eyes take in what you can see in that moment, you immediately know where the scent is coming from when your eyes fall on marigold flowers.

An ofrenda, as Miguel had said weeks ago when you were celebrating Peter’s birthday. You suddenly remember. It’s the first of November. Dia de los Muertos. Your mind flashes back to that moment. You were cutting Miguel a second slice of cake, feeling embarrassed about the whole thing when he spoke.

“I also…” Miguel said, pausing. “I celebrate Dia de los Muertos, I don’t know if you -” he paused, and you nodded then, indicating you knew what he was talking about as you put the slice on his plate. “I make a small ofrenda for them.” You placed his plate in front of him, meeting his eyes. “So – it’s not – Don’t feel as if…” Miguel said, trailing off and you nodded.

He had shared that with you then, to make you feel less embarrassed. To assure you, you weren’t alone in remembering, celebrating, and honoring Peter even after his death.

Your eyes flicker to Miguel for a few seconds, his attention is back to the ofrenda. You step closer, keeping your eyes on him, as you do so. You stop, standing a few feet behind him still, not wanting to invade his space. Not wanting to invade his ofrenda, his act of remembrance, celebration, and honor for his loved ones.

Sensing your reluctance to walk closer, Miguel speaks in a hushed tone.

“Y/N… you may come closer,” he whispers.

You stand still for a few seconds and then walk closer, stopping next to him. Your eyes take in the ofrenda as you’re able to appreciate it more now that you’re closer to it. Miguel’s ofrenda is absolutely beautiful and you can see the effort he put into it as your eyes take it in.

The ofrenda is made of two levels, both are covered in a bright blue fabric. Sheets of tissue paper in lively colors were cut into intricate patterns and hung from the edges of both levels. You notice the second level holds four photographs, which are in physical, wooden frames. Despite the advanced universe of your boss, Miguel O’Hara still used physical, wooden picture frames for his ofrenda. For some reason, that makes you feel tenderness towards the man next to you. Your eyes move from each picture slowly. The first photo your eyes fall on show an older woman. You take in her appearance, noticing some of her features are familiar. Miguel’s face flashes in your mind. His mother, you realize, knowing nothing about her. No one knows anything about Miguel’s family. It isn’t something that Miguel ever talks about.

Your eyes move to the other end of the level, falling on the photograph of a young man. He was handsome with one of those cheeky, boyish smiles. You notice he looks on the younger side and you can’t help but wonder if Miguel once had a brother.

The two photos in the center show people you have seen before. Two individuals you know a little about.

Gabriella and Miguel’s wife.  Your eyes fall on Gabriella, noticing that her photo was more centered on the ofrenda. You notice the decorations then. Small sugar skulls made of clay fill the gaps between each photograph. Marigold flowers serve as a pop of color behind the picture frames and clay sugar skulls. Lit candles light up the ofrenda on both levels. They flicker softly, creating a soft and intimate moment.

Your eyes fall to the lowest level. You still find marigold flowers, sugar skulls, and lit candles but there are other items in front of each photograph. You remember that on Dia de los Muertos, loved ones place food, drinks, and other objects that those who have passed away enjoyed in life. In front of his mother’s photograph, Miguel placed a plate with food, surrounded by fruit like apples and oranges. A glass bottle with an orange drink was placed next to it. When you move to the young man, who you are almost certain is Miguel’s brother, you spot tamales, a drink, and two pink pieces of bread in the shape of a seashell. Pan dulce. There are also these thin, bright yellow candy-sized packages next to his drink. Your eyes almost miss it but there’s a scarf looped around the plates with food. When you look back at the photograph, you notice the young man is wearing that very same scarf in his photo.

You move to Miguel’s wife. She, too, has a plate with food, different from the others. You cannot help but wonder… Did Miguel cook their favorite meals? Once again, tenderness washes over you as you imagine Miguel spending the day cooking and setting up his ofrenda. You finish looking at Miguel’s wife section, seeing some candy and a drink, too.

It's Gabriella’s section that really strikes you, making a bittersweet feeling rush through you as you scan her section. There are three plates of food. You don’t recognize the food in one of them but the other one you do. Pancakes with chocolate chips on top. Your mind flashes back to months ago, when you entered Miguel’s lab after he found out that Lyla had hidden a folder containing photos and videos of Gabriella and his wife. He had mentioned Gabriella loved his breakfasts, especially pancakes with chocolate chips, when he was telling you a little bit about her.

Your heart aches as you continue to stare at the pancakes. You swallow the knot that has begun to form in your throat. You tell yourself to calm down. You know Dia de los Muertos is not about grief. It’s about celebrating those who have passed away. Remembering and honoring them. A night for loved ones to visit and spend time with those who are still alive.

You sigh quietly as your eyes move. You spot more items in Gabriella’s section. There is quite a bit of candy, which makes you smile. You spot small, green and white, bottles with pointy red lids. There are small packs with bright pink tablets, which remind you of gum. Your eyes fall on two lollipops. They have a clown face printed on it, showing a chocolate covered marshmallow with gummies as a face. There’s more candy, like those thin bright yellow packs you saw on the young man’s side. Your eyes move to the last plate. Gabriella also has the same kind of pan dulce found on the young man’s plate: two pink seashell-like pieces of bread.

There are also drinks in Gabriella’s section. You find tiny see-through bottles, almost the height of your pointing finger with a beige liquid and red letters printed on the outside. There’s also a tall glass of what looks like chocolate milk, next to a short, blue container with an animated character printed on it. And finally, there’s a large mug of rice pudding sprinkled with cinnamon. Arroz con leche.

It doesn’t stop there, however. The bright blue fabric covers some of the floor and right there you find toys and other random objects. Your eyes immediately fall on a soccer ball, reminding you that Gabriella loved to play soccer and was part of the soccer team at her school. You smile as you keep your eyes on it for a few seconds. You spot children’s books on the side, noticing that some of them fall under the science genre.

You remember that Miguel shared with you that Gabriella loved science and enjoyed reading. There are other toys of course, like dolls and small animal figures. Your eyes fall on one item specifically though. A small acoustic guitar. You briefly wonder if little Gabriella liked to play the acoustic guitar but of course, you don’t ask about it.

Your eyes take in the ofrenda again, all of it now. Miguel did a beautiful job. You smile softly at the sight and the fact that Miguel went to your apartment tonight to show you his ofrenda. He’s honoring his loved ones in his own way, and he invited you to be a part of it. The same way you invited him to be a part of Peter’s birthday celebration.

Your thoughts are interrupted when you feel Miguel move. He slowly gets on his knees in front of the ofrenda, with a soft sigh before he rests his body over his heels. You notice he’s looking straight ahead at Gabriella’s photo. You slowly drop to your knees, too, and as you stare at Gabriella’s photo you speak, breaking the silence.

“It’s beautiful, Miguel,” you whisper softly in Miguel’s quiet lab.

“Thank you,” he whispers back, softly.

The two of you stare silently at the ofrenda. The candles’ wicks flicker softly, still casting soft shadows on the photographs. You think about Miguel’s loved ones. He has lost so many people even before Gabriella and his wife. You can’t help but wonder now, how lonely was Miguel that he inserted himself in another world?

You have never judged him and never will for this. However, you cannot help but feel heartache for him. He has lost so many people. Why did life take so much from this man? This man, who you have begun to know better with each passing day, who was soft, loving, kind, and caring on the inside? He didn’t show these traits much these days, but you have received his kindness before.

He showed you kindness the day he showed up at your apartment to check on you. It wasn’t Jess who sent him. He had shown up on his own. You still wonder about that. How he had asked you not to bring it up to Jess so he wasn’t caught in a lie. He didn’t want you to know he had done it because he wanted to or because his true, hidden traits had led him to do it. Ever since he lost Gabriella and his wife, he was distant and cold, unwilling to attach himself to anyone again. Except, his true self was still there, hidden under the surface of his coldness and unattachment.

He made appearances sometimes. Like that day at your apartment. Or the day he talked about Gabriella to you when you walked into his lab, not knowing he was having a bad day because of Lyla’s secret. Or on Peter’s birthday. And there were other moments you hadn’t been around for like the time he allowed Gwen Stacy into the Spider Society. Even though he didn’t want her to be a part of it because of her connection with Miles, Miguel allowed her recruitment because of the issue with her father and her Spider-Woman identity.

That version of Miguel made his appearance today. Miguel O’Hara spent his entire day working on his ofrenda for his loved ones. He cooked. He cut the tissue paper. He printed out the photos and placed them in picture frames despite being able to simply display them with screens. He picked out the marigold flowers. He bought drinks, candy, and toys. He put together his ofrenda.

As the two of you kneel before it, there’s a shared understanding between the two of you. There’s comfort. Vulnerability. Trust. A bond between the two of you that has been forming over the last months strengthens.

You sigh softly as your eyes land on the soccer ball again. Miguel turns slowly to you, looking down to see your face. He sees you looking at the soccer ball.

“She loved playing soccer, so I bought her one,” Miguel mutters quietly, and you nod.

“I remember. She played in the soccer team,” you say softly.

Miguel nods, feeling a warm sensation wash over his chest as you mention that fact. It has been many weeks now since he shared that with you. And you remembered.

“I think – she must be very happy to see her favorite breakfast,” you add, looking up at Miguel.

He looks down at you. You remembered that, too. Miguel nods before turning away slowly. He has never shared much about his life with others. Not with Jess or Peter, who were already a part of his life back then. They knew some parts of his life of course but he had never gone into much detail. It had been too painful. It was easier to keep it all to himself, put away at the back of his mind while he exhausted himself with work to keep his emotions at bay.

You are the first one he has shared some of those days with. Miguel can’t help but think about the first day he met you. Jess introduced you and of course, he had thought you were the opposite of him. You seemed so happy and alive despite having lost someone. He had been so wrong about you. You carried your own grief and loss but hid it so well.

Either way, had someone told him that he was going to be opening to you in so many ways back then, he would’ve laughed. He wouldn’t have believed it, but it was true. He has opened up to you. And you remember. You listened to him. You didn’t ask questions. You understood.

Miguel sighs softly, looking at the photographs. You knew of his wife and sweet Gabriella of course but not of his mother or Gabriel. Little Gabrielito. Miguel shakes his head softly at his brother’s photograph, thinking how he left too soon.

Miguel clears his throat, turning slightly to you now. This catches your attention, so you turn to face him.

“The young man – that’s my brother. Gabriel, or as I called him, Gabrielito. He passed away a few years ago,” Miguel shares.

You offer Miguel a sad smile, not speaking. Not wanting to discourage Miguel from sharing.

“He was my little brother,” Miguel says. “He was such – a pain on the butt sometimes but he always meant well. He was always cheery. Kind.”

You nod, wanting to say that you could tell just by the cheeky smile on Gabriel’s face. Miguel notices that you seem reluctant to speak. He thinks about how respectful you always are. Again, you never ask questions. You never overstep his boundary lines. And hell, his respect for you grows in that moment even more. You are a good person. You are kind. Miguel fails to notice it, but his heart beats a bit faster. You are the closest he has to a friend these days even though he doesn’t fully realize it. You are the only person he was willing to share this moment with because you allowed him to be a part of Peter’s birthday celebration. He wanted to reciprocate the gesture.

And, as he stares down at your face, he realizes that he wants to hear your thoughts. He wants to know what you think. He wants you to ask questions because he feels comfortable with you. The firm boundary line he has established and maintained for so long, crumbles in that moment for you.

“You can talk, you know,” Miguel says softly, prompting you to offer him an apologetic smile.

“I’m sorry. I just don’t want to intrude or overstep. I know how delicate and personal these moments are,” you respond truthfully. “Thank you for letting me in on your celebration,” you whisper, and Miguel detects the sincerity in your tone.

He nods. “You made me a part of Peter’s birthday celebration … I wanted you to be a part of mine,” he answers softly.

You nod once again, giving him a brighter smile. “Thank you,” you whisper, meaning it.

Not everyone understood of course but you understood each other. With his words coming back to you, about being able to talk, you sigh softly before you speak.

“Your brother – I can tell he was cheerful with that cheeky smile,” you say, turning to Gabriel’s photo.

Miguel’s eyes fall on his brother’s smile. It was indeed cheeky.

“Since a kid,” Miguel shares. “He always had that smile. It never changed throughout his life. There were always at least two girls who had crushes on him when we were kids because of it,” he says fondly, his mind going back to days that were long gone when Gabriel and he were still in school.

You chuckle lowly. “I can imagine it got him into some trouble with the girls,” you say, smiling, unable to stop yourself from also thinking of younger Miguel. You wonder what he was like when he was a teenager. You wonder if he also had girls crushing after him, and you are immediately confident he did. If Gabriel had the girls crushing, there was no doubt Miguel definitely did, too. You have never thought of Miguel in that way but even though you have never thought of him like that, it doesn’t mean you are blind. Miguel is an attractive man to say the least. People, mostly women but even some of the men in the Spider Society, talk about it sometimes. Even if you hadn’t noticed it yourself, you are sure you would’ve at one point with the questionable conversations you overheard sometimes in passing when colleagues thought they were being discreet, except they weren’t.

“Believe me, it did. I once had to come to his rescue because this girl’s boyfriend thought he was flirting with her,” Miguel says, shaking his head, missing his brother. “But he wasn’t like that. He was a good person. A good man.”

Miguel thought of Gabriel when he allowed himself to think about the past. He loved his brother even when there were tensions between them.

“He was the better brother,” Miguel mutters. “He was kind. Unselfish.”

You can’t help but get hung up on the word “unselfish.” Did Miguel think he was selfish?

When he thought about Gabriel, Miguel couldn’t help but wonder what his little brother would have said about what he did. He was so selfless and compassionate. If there is a Heaven, Miguel fears that Gabriel must have disagreed with his decision. With what he did in Gabriella’s universe.

You sense a slight shift in Miguel’s mood, even when your mind is still stuck on the indication that Miguel feels like he was the selfish brother of the two. You feel the urge to keep the mood light. You don’t want to see Miguel sad or upset, so you speak up.

“He sounds like a wonderful person. I think I would’ve liked him a lot,” you start, looking at Gabriel’s photo before looking down at the yellow candy packs. “I see he and Gabriella liked the same candy,” you add softly, hoping to lighten his mood again.

Miguel, staring at his brother’s photo, briefly thinks about what you said, and he agrees. In fact, Miguel can’t help but think that Gabriel would have befriended you was he still alive. You were both warm and happy people. Unselfish, he thought again.

“Gabriel would have liked you,” Miguel says, knowing this is true. “I think you two would have been great friends,” he says pausing for a few seconds. “And yes – they’re called Pulparindos. It’s made from the pulp of tamarind fruit. Gabriel loved them. I swear he ate like four a day. He always had some with him,” Miguel says with an amused tone but there’s no smile on his face. “Imagine my surprise when I found out Gabriella also loved them,” he adds fondly.

You nod, that’s why both Gabriel and Gabriella had the same kind of candy then. You also feel somewhat pleased with the fact that Miguel thinks his brother would’ve liked you.  

“We would go to the store, and she always made a beeline for the candy aisle. I could never say no to her,” Miguel says, his voice still laced with that fondness as he thinks of the times they went to get groceries. “We made an agreement. She could have one piece of candy each day but no more. She always respected the deal.”

You stare at Gabriella’s photograph. She’s in the frame alone, smiling at the camera. Again, there’s that toothy smile you remember from weeks ago. Your heart aches for her. For Gabriel. For Miguel’s wife.

For Miguel… who didn’t have the luxury of visiting all his loved ones at the cemetery, you suddenly realize as the two of you remain kneeling on the floor. Miguel couldn’t visit his wife or Gabriella. There were no bodies to be buried. No funerals.

Your sudden realization cuts deep into your soul. You cannot imagine what you would do if you were in his shoes. If you didn’t have at least that small comfort of knowing that Peter rested somewhere in peace. Or the comfort of being able to visit him whenever you wanted or needed to. Or the comfort of talking to him, even when you know your stories are heard by silence.

Miguel had none of that when it came to Gabriella and his wife. Your heart feels heavy with pain for Miguel. You have never thought of this and to be honest, no one else has either. Miguel was expected to move on eventually but how could someone move on when they didn’t even have the chance to mourn properly? How could anyone move on when they didn’t have a place to visit their loved ones?

It has been those small things that you have taken for granted that have helped you during your mourning period. Those comforts that mostly everyone who loses a loved one has but for Miguel… it’s not true. He doesn’t have any of those comforts.

You feel the sudden urge, for the second time in months, to reach out for Miguel. You want to comfort him. You want to hold him in your arms and tell him how sorry you are that this has happened to him. That you are sorry that he has lost so many loved ones. That he lost his wife and Gabriella, his loving family.

You want to tell him that he deserves so much more. That he deserves a family and happiness. And that he’s not selfish for wanting these things. You want to hold Miguel, and take away his grief, sadness, guilt, and any other negative emotion he still carries with him.

You just want to comfort Miguel.

Your hand, which has been resting on your lap, rises slowly, involuntarily, in Miguel’s direction. You freeze for about two seconds, realizing what you are about to do. You bring your hand back to your lap discreetly, or at least you hope it was discreetly.  

You cannot comfort Miguel in the way that you usually comfort people because he doesn’t do physical touch. No matter how badly you want to rest your hand over his and let the gesture speak for itself, you know you can’t. Or rather, shouldn’t. You don’t dare break his boundary line as you return your attention to Gabriella’s photo.

Beside you, Miguel also stares at his daughter’s photo. His mind has paused the memories and instead, is overtaken by the fact that you were reaching for him just seconds ago. He didn’t fail to see the way you stopped yourself. He senses it’s not because of impropriety or even changing your mind about it but for another reason.

As Miguel stares at Gabriella’s photo, he wonders how you know. Perhaps it was Jess, he realizes. Perhaps she mentioned that he cannot do physical touch these days. And you, as always, respected his space. He silently appreciates your respect and the fact that you wanted to comfort him. He sighs softly. It’s been so long since he has been comforted by someone physically.

The last time he felt another person’s skin was… with you, he realizes, remembering the day he checked up on you. That day, for once, he allowed his hand to be bare so he could feel your face, to check if you were running a fever. That was the first time he had felt another person’s skin in a really long time, and there hadn’t been any other instances since then. He remembers how natural it had felt to press his hand to your forehead regardless.

Miguel’s thoughts are interrupted when he hears your stomach grumble, making him turn to you. He narrows his eyes slightly as you slowly look at him.

“Are you hungry?” he asks.

You shake your head, embarrassed, thinking about how you had an early dinner and that was hours ago.  “No. I ate something a few hours ago. It was just my stomach being – weird,” you say softly and Miguel stares down at you, knowing you’re lying.

Before you know it, he gets up with ease. “Hold on,” he says walking away and around his platform.

You wait there, not knowing where he’s going on, or what he’s doing. It’s a few minutes later that Miguel returns. You hear his footsteps and turn around to find Miguel carrying two cups and two plastic bags hanging from his right wrist. Noticing your furrowed brows at the sight, Miguel walks over to you and hands you one of the cups.

You immediately feel the warmth of the drink before the scent of coffee fills your nostrils when you take the cup from his hand. You look up at Miguel, with curious eyes but he doesn’t say anything as he kneels next to you again, this time much closer than before, you notice. Miguel places his own cup to the side before he pulls the plastic bags off his wrist.

“I only made enough of the food for them…” Miguel says, pausing and nodding at the plates with food. “But I did get extra of this,” he says, opening one of the bags and showing you.

You catch a glimpse of pan dulce, which you have tried before. You meet his eyes again as he moves the bag closer to you. He motions for you to get some.

“I know you’re hungry,” he says quietly, meeting your eyes. “Please.”

You feel reluctant but then again, the pan dulce looks too appetizing to say no to. You nod slowly and reach into the bag, grabbing a pink, round seashell like piece of pan dulce.

“Those are called conchas,” Miguel says as he sees what you chose. He turns to the ofrenda. “Gabriel and Gabriella loved those. Especially the pink ones.”

You turn to the ofrenda, returning your attention to the pink conchas you noticed earlier on Gabriel and Gabriella’s sections.

“Thank you,” you say quietly, holding the cup of coffee and pan dulce, feeling embarrassed. You wonder if this is how Miguel felt the first couple of times you took him coffee and then in the last couple of weeks food.  

Miguel’s head turns to the side to look at you. “You’re welcome,” he says softly before he, too, grabs a concha.

He looks away from you as he breaks a piece of the pan dulce to make you feel comfortable. He knows you were lying to hide the embarrassment of your hunger, so he turns away to give you space. He brings a small piece of the concha to his mouth, the pan dulce reminding him of his childhood when his mother made hot chocolate for Gabriel and him. Miguel remembers how Gabriel and him always looked forward to autumn and winter because the food was better. They got hot chocolate with pan dulce; tamales of all kinds, including his favorite ones, which were the sweet ones back then because he loved the sweetness of them and the fact that his mother added food coloring to make them colorful; they also got buñuelos, and pozole amongst other delicious foods.

Miguel brings the piece of pan dulce to his mouth as he thinks of the past, of his childhood. He didn’t think too often about it but when he did, he tried to only think of the memories that included Gabriel. He didn’t like to think of other memories that included the man he once thought was his father. The same man whose last name Miguel still holds to this day. Other memories included his mother as well. Some were from the early days of his life and then from her last years when they had grown closer once there were no more secrets and lies between them.

It was just his mother and Gabriel. Neither his stepfather nor biological father were thought of. Nor were they on his ofrenda. He couldn’t bring himself to add them to the ofrenda that was for those he loved and cherished dearly. Those he missed.

“That was my mother,” Miguel suddenly says once he finishes eating the small piece of concha, remembering he hasn’t talked about her. “Her name was… Conchata.”

You finish chewing the small piece of bread you, too, broke off. You nod. “She was beautiful,” you say as you turn your attention to her photograph. You can see Miguel got a lot of her features, as did Gabriel. You don’t say anything about the fact that there’s no sign of his father, not knowing Miguel had a stepfather as well.

“She was… We didn’t have the best relationship for some time, but things changed in her last years. It was often a problem between Gabriel and I in those years. He always tried to remain neutral. I, on the other hand…” Miguel trails off, thinking of the past. “I distanced myself from her for some time until we resolved our issues.”

You frown a little. Is this why he thought Gabriel was better? Because Gabriel remained neutral in whatever problems Miguel and Conchata had? Despite Miguel indicating that he isn’t as good as Gabriel, even saying he distanced himself from his mother in a negative tone, you can’t bring yourself to think of him any less. You have no right to begin with. You don’t know what happened between them. There’s so much that you still don’t know about Miguel. So much he might never reveal. Either way, you don’t care.

“We all have our reasons for what we do,” you finally say, thinking this was the best neutral thing to say. “You had your reasons for distancing yourself.”

Miguel nods, appreciating your response. “I did,” he says simply, thinking about those reasons. Thinking about the abuse from his stepfather that his mother allowed. About the manipulation. The lies.

He has never shared his past with anyone. The only person that knew of it has passed away, taking those memories with him to the grave. Gabriel. Miguel doesn’t know if he will ever share that. He put it in the past for the most part.

However, he couldn’t help but feel that if he ever shared his past… it would be with you but not tonight. At least not all of it.

Miguel clears his throat. “I had a stepfather and of course, a biological father but I wasn’t close to either of them. They have both passed away, too.”

You notice a slight change of tone. It’s laced with resentment. You put your cup of coffee down.

“You don’t have to talk about it,” you say gently. “Tonight, is for them, right?” you ask softly, motioning to the ofrenda.

Miguel nods. “Yes, but I know the other members talk. About my past. About my family.”

You nod slowly, knowing exactly what he’s talking about. That’s how you found out about what happened in Gabriella’s universe and what happened with Miles. It turns out that despite being superheroes and being part of a professional superhero society, its members were not immune to gossip.

“I didn’t have a good relationship with either of them. That’s why they’re not on the ofrenda,” Miguel continues, feeling like he wanted to get it out of his chest for once.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” you reply, and Miguel nods.

“It’s in the past now. I just wanted to say it – since my mother is on it. And again, I know people talk.”

You nod, feeling sad that Miguel feels the need to share his past life. “Please know that you never have to explain yourself. It’s your life, and you don’t owe anyone an explanation,” you say, surprising yourself with your words and tone but you hope you make your point clear. He shouldn’t feel pressured to share anything just to satisfy people’s curiosity. “But thank you – for trusting me enough to share that with me,” you add, softly again.

Miguel feels stunned by your words, especially your change of tone. It almost felt like you were scolding him. He can’t help but feel comforted while also amused by it. He feels his lips curl upward as he looks down at you. You notice it, of course. The slight curling of his lips. Did you almost make Miguel smile?

You can’t help but stare at his mouth. You have seen his smile in a photograph before and it was… beautiful. You remember the spark in his eyes as he smiled. His smile was such a sight it made you wonder what it would be like to see it in person. You can’t help but feel selfish at this moment. You want – need – to see Miguel O’Hara smile.  

You want to see him happy because he deserves it.

You meet his eyes and offer him a small smile, feeling happy that you almost made him smile but Miguel surprises you. Miguel, for once,returns a genuine, small smile.

Miguel O’Hara, founder and commander of the Spider Society, your boss, is smiling at you.

You feel like your breath has caught in your throat suddenly. Miguel is smiling at you. It’s a small one but it’s a smile. You stare at it and meet his eyes. The moment feels much longer than it lasts but in a good way. You abruptly look down at your piece of pan dulce, feeling like you are overwhelmed by the sight of Miguel’s smile. You can’t comprehend your emotions, so you take a piece of pan dulce and change the subject.

“This is really good. Thank you,” you tell him, looking up at him again.

The smile is gone but there’s still a hint of it on his face as he looks down at his own piece of pan dulce. His mood is lighter, indicating that the resentment you detected earlier about his fathers is gone. You realize he found your sudden change of tone, which you now realize may have come off as scolding, amusing and you don’t mind it.

“Glad you liked it,” he says with a tone you can’t pinpoint right now as his smile is still flashing in your mind. “And thank you. For your words,” Miguel adds, meaning it.

You nod at him and take another bite of your concha, thinking. You are never going to forget this night.

The two of you continue to kneel on the floor but it feels like your distance has decreased somehow. You can feel his body warmth much closer as you eat pan dulce and hot coffee. The lab is silent and mostly dark around the two of you, but you find yourselves in a peaceful and comforting silence as the scent of marigold flowers and coffee fills your nostrils. The soft flickering of the candles on the ofrenda creates a warm and soothing mood, spreading that warmness to the two of you on this cold November night.

It is a beautiful moment, shared by two people who understand each other on many levels. It is a moment that will pass, like every other moment you have shared so far but just like the rest, it will be a moment the two of you will look back on. It is a moment that only the two of you will know of as there is an unspoken agreement these moments were for yourselves only.

Miguel eats his piece of bread, quietly. He’s thinking about your reaction to him smiling. It makes him feel a mix of emotions. Was the sight of him smiling, even if it was a small smile, so surprising? Of course, he knows he doesn’t smile much these days, but your reaction makes him feel like the sight of it is a once in a lifetime moment. That was one emotion.

Another emotion is… what is the word? His emotions and thoughts are a bit out of place tonight, making it harder to think but he feels… satisfaction? Is that the right word he’s looking for? The point is that he found some joy in seeing your surprise, and your sudden – was it shyness? Was the sight too much for you that you had to look away and change the subject?

Miguel takes a sip of his coffee as he thinks about how he liked your reaction to him smiling, no matter how small it was. He sets the cup down and looks at the other plastic bag he brought with him. He picks it up, remembering.

“There’s candy here, too,” Miguel says opening it.

You finish eating your piece of bread, making a note to look for some pan dulce in your own universe because it was wonderful, as you turn your attention to the bag. You’re still thinking of Miguel smiling. You watch as Miguel pulls out different candy, holding so much in one hand because of its size.  

He shows you the candy, and you recognize it from the ofrenda. He extends his arm out to you, offering you candy. You look up at him.

“What do you recommend?” you ask, and he begins to tell you what each candy is, even when you recognize some of it from trying it before.

You eventually go for a clown lollipop, which makes Miguel raise his eyebrow slightly.

“What? It has three things. Marshmallow on the inside, chocolate on the outside, and gummies,” you say giving him a small smile.

“You got a point,” Miguel says, grabbing one himself.

The two of you open your clown lollipops. You look at your own, noticing the gummies’ placement on the lollipop, which are supposed to signify the eyes and mouth, are crooked, looking nothing like the picture on the wrapping. You frown a little but shrug.

Next to you, Miguel stifles a low chuckle, noticing your frown at the appearance of your lollipop. He shows you his.  

“The thing about these is that they never look like the picture on the wrapper,” he says quietly as you look at his crooked lollipop.

You chuckle, noticing his has the mouth upside down. “I was a little disappointed but I’m pretty sure the taste is going to make up for it,” you say, looking at it before you take a bite, making sure to go around the gummies.

Miguel watches, wanting to see your reaction. You chew the small piece you bit off, the chocolate and marshmallow melting in your mouth. Miguel sees the pleasant look on your face.

“Oh wow, this is – I think I’m in trouble,” you say, taking another small bite, still going around the gummies, deciding you’re going to leave them for last.

Miguel raises an eyebrow as he, too, takes a bite of his, also going around the gummies, as you mention being in trouble. You finish eating and look over at him.

“I used to have a sweet tooth. I think this is going to make me return to my bad ways,” you explain as you take another bite.

Miguel feels like smiling again as he sees you go for another bite. He also notices that you left the gummies for last, which reminds him of Gabriella because she used to do the same thing when he bought these lollipops for her.

The two of you spend another hour sharing candy and Miguel tells you about each one. Miguel eats the same candy you choose each time, as if he was trying it for the first time as well. He pays attention to your reactions, noticing which candy leaves the best impression on you. He also shares bits and pieces of Gabriella’s liking for a specific kind of candy. You listen intently when he speaks, appreciating his openness with you. You notice there’s no sadness as he speaks fondly of her. At least not tonight.

“I guess we’re not sleeping tonight,” he mutters as the two of you are now sitting, still on the floor, facing the ofrenda.

It’s past midnight now and the two of you have eaten quite a bit of candy, plus you had that cup of coffee. You both feel awake and alert.

“I don’t think I was planning on sleeping early, anyway,” you say quietly, staring at the flickering candles.

Miguel leans back on his hands, stretching his back slightly. The two bags he bought earlier are between you. The plastic wrappers from the candy you two ate are in a neat pile.

“You were doing chores,” he says, remembering you had mentioned that when he arrived.

You nod. “I had some random chores that I meant to do over the week but didn’t get to.”

“I’ve been keeping you busy with missions,” he says, looking at the photos of his loved ones.

You chuckle lightly. “It’s just the life of a superhero.”

Miguel nods, knowing exactly what you mean. When he lived in Gabriella’s world, he took every chore in the house. He cooked, cleaned, did the laundry, dishes, cut the lawn, and many other chores on top of being a father and a superhero. There were days when it all felt like too much, especially when he was unable to complete some of those chores when his superhero duty called. When he felt like that, when it was all too much, he just reminded himself that it didn’t matter. It was okay if the lawn grew a bit tall. It was okay if he got behind a day or two on laundry. It was okay as long as it meant he got to spend time with Gabriella. Her happiness and comfort were his top priority, and if he had to choose which he often did, between doing laundry or sitting on Gabriella’s bedroom floor playing with dolls because she asked him to join her, he always chose spending time with her.

The satisfaction of done laundry, or a clean sink, never compared to Gabriella’s smiles and laughs. If he could pay to hear her laugh live again, Miguel would give up everything he owned. Even if it was just one more time.

Miguel sighs softly, thinking of Gabriella. Memories of them playing on her bedroom floor flash through his mind. He can hear her voice and laugh. He remembers the way it felt to hold her in his arms. He remembers the nights he had to find a way to fit in her tiny bed to comfort her because she had nightmares. He’d lay there for hours, even if his muscles were tired. Even when his body desperately wanted to stretch to ease the tension, he laid there, guarding her sleep. He remembers the natural father instinct that surged through him. It was as if he had been meant to be a father his whole life.

As Miguel stares at the ofrenda, his eyes fall on the toys, and he silently prays that Gabriella visited him on this Dia de los Muertos. He prays that she forgave him for lying. For replacing her biological father. He prays that she found joy in the toys and food.

“Perdóname, mija.”

“Do you – do you mind telling me more about her?” you ask in a whisper, noticing Miguel’s lingering eyes on his deceased daughter’s photograph. You don’t know what gave you the confidence to ask that and you quickly add, “I’m sorry, I – you don’t have to. I don’t know what came over me.”

Miguel turns slowly to you, looking down at you. Your eyes meet. He’s quiet for a few seconds but his face is calm. He doesn’t look upset, and he’s not. He’s glad you asked. He’s just surprised and comforted by how you asked. It’s strange. Sometimes he feels like you grieve with him. He sees it in your eyes and detects it in your words and tone. He has never felt like anyone could share his grief. Until you. You didn’t even know Gabriella or his wife, or that version of himself.

Regardless of that fact, Miguel feels like you grieve with him. As if you grieve the opportunity of knowing them and a life he no longer has.

Miguel nods at last. “Gabriella…”

And so, the two of you spend another hour or so together in his lab. Miguel O’Hara begins to talk about his daughter and it’s like a door opens. His memories pour out of him, and you listen intently, nodding. He talks about the times she was sick, the time she fell from a swing and the scraped knee afterward, about her playing with dolls and him having to change his voice to be in character. He talks about the car rides back home after soccer matches and how Gabriella would be filled with energy the first fifteen minutes before she passed out asleep, exhausted from the game and her excitement from winning. He tells you so much than the last time. So much more, that you feel like you knew Gabriella yourself. You smile tenderly as Miguel talks about her in a way that just enforces how great of a father he was.

It's a while later when the two of you get up from the floor. You help him clean up, despite his protests. The two of you stand in front of the ofrenda for a few minutes, in silence afterward. You finally turn your head towards him, looking up at him. He notices and looks down at you, meeting your gaze.

“Thank you. I know this isn’t easy,” you say quietly, and he nods slowly.

You wish you could say more. Again, you feel that rush of emotions for this man. You wish you could tell him that he deserves happiness. That he deserves so much more…

“Thank you for coming,” he replies, and you nod with a small smile because you feel that that’s the only thing you can do.

You fall into silence again for a few seconds before you sigh softly.

“I should probably head back now,” you say, looking down at your gizmo to check the time.

Miguel also checks his gizmo, surprised. It’s very late. When he finished setting up the ofrenda and was ready to travel to your universe to invite you, he had no intention of keeping you up this late. He thought it would be an hour or so. Instead, the two of you have spent the last three hours on the floor eating pan dulce and candy, with him talking and sharing details of his life.

For a brief moment, Miguel tries to imagine doing this with someone else. He can’t. No one else pops into his head, for the two of you speak so differently when you are alone. You understand each other.

Miguel finally nods. “I didn’t realize how late it is. I’m sorry for keeping you up.”

You shake your head with a smile. “Don’t apologize. As I said, I was going to stay up to do some chores but…” you trail off and try to put your thoughts together without them coming off wrong. You want to say that you much prefer this. Spending time with him. Keeping each other company. How can you say that without it coming off wrong? You look away from his gaze for a few seconds, trying to think of how to word this and simply having no idea how to do so without giving the wrong impression. You shake your head softly at yourself, feeling silly for being unable to pull your thoughts together. You meet his eyes again, which have been on you this whole time. Miguel can see that you’re struggling to find a way to say what’s on your mind. It makes him want to know even more what you’re thinking.

“What I’m trying to say is that – I’m here,” you finally say and immediately feel like that was not the best way to say it, but it is also not the worst. “I’m here – for you.”

And I don’t mind stopping what I’m doing to be there for you, you silently think but can’t voice that part out loud.

Miguel stares down at you, your words echoing in his head. You’re here… for him. And he knows you mean it as your eyes meet. Miguel gives you a soft nod, his eyes show appreciation.

“Thank you…” he says, with a warm feeling in his chest.

You nod and give him another smile, seeing that appreciative look in his eyes. That will have to do. Maybe in the future you can say more but for tonight, that will have to do.

Miguel wants to say the same to you, but he can’t. The words get caught in his throat. He looks at the plastic bags from earlier. He pulls out two chocolate lollipops and some of the other candy he saw you liked the most, not fully realizing that he perfectly remembers this information. He looks at the bag with pan dulce. There are only two pieces of bread left. He extends his arms, offering you the bag with bread and the candy. It’s his own way of reciprocating your words to him. You look up at him, a little surprised.

“Oh, thank you but you don’t have to do that,” you say not making a move to take the items.

He looks down at you. “I insist… please,” he says quietly with a firm yet breathy tone.

Noticing his tone, you nod slowly and take the items from his hands gently. Your bare fingers brush his suited palm and fingers as you take the individual pieces of candy. The sensation is almost ticklish to Miguel’s palm, but he keeps his hand steady. Once you have everything in your hands, you look up at him again and smile.

“There was no need for this but thank you.”

Miguel nods, wishing he could’ve done this on top of reciprocating your words. Maybe another time.

“I hope you enjoy the other pieces of bread,” he says softly.

“I have no doubt I will,” you reply, still smiling. There’s a few seconds of silence between the two of you before you speak again. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow. Thank you again… for everything.”

Miguel nods. “Thank you. I’ll see you later today,” he replies remembering it’s already early morning.

You nod one more time at him before you turn your eyes to the ofrenda. Your eyes fall on each photograph, and you say a silent goodbye to them. You don’t celebrate but you hope that they came to see Miguel tonight.

“Good night,” you finally say.

“Good night,” Miguel replies before you walk around the platform. Miguel remains standing in front of his ofrenda. He hears the multidimensional portal open nearby and then it’s quiet again. His eyes fall on each photograph, the flickering candles casting dancing shadows on his loved ones’ faces. He stands there for a few minutes, quietly thinking before he breaks the silence in his empty lab.

“I’m here for you, too...”

_________________

Translation for italicized words: Dia de los Muertos - Day of the Dead Ofrenda - Altar for Day of the Death Pan Dulce - Sweet Bread (Mexican pastries) "Perdóname, mija" - "Forgive me, my daughter." Mija(o) is a combination of "Mi" and "Hija(o)"

For the other italicized food items mentioned by Miguel from his childhood and items described on Gabriella's ofrenda, you can find a food guide right here that I quickly put together.

--

Ok, so I just want to say sorry for the freaking LONG update. My jaw dropped when I checked the word count once I was done editing (no wonder it took me so long). I don't think any other part will be this long. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it and that if you love autumn (like me) this brought you comfort. I'm done with this summer heat 😭

I also want to ask how would you guys feel about a short Christmas part? It wouldn't be super long but I thought of Miguel in Christmas time and I just - Imagine Miguel in a chunky cable knit turtle neck sweater!! (Screaming, crying) If not, it's okay. I already have the "next" part mapped out and... I'm not well thinking about it.

As always, thank you for the support. For the lovely comments and asks. Reading them makes me so happy. Thank you 🥹

I love Miguel,

Alondra

Tag list:

@loverlorn @saturnknows @d1lf-loverrr @eddiestitmiguelsbigdick @freehentai @arithestrawberry @scaleniusrm @haradasaya @spidermanismyfav @bitchykittenconnoisseur @thecraziestcrayon @obi-mom-kenobi @natsury-kazuki @rootin-tootin-morgan @coraline750 @edgycatx @safixiovi @sunnyx07 @nxrdamp @rorel1a @oceanstar19 @happishark @carmilla01 @somebodyelsethanyouthink @adora-but-ginger @angie2274 @vampi-amora @tired-writer04 @plzfeedmebread @shadow-pancake9 @tynakub @faretheeoscar @giulscomix @luvstuffies @coffeeauthorvibing @lauraolar14 @bl0osclues @pinkiemme @lil-cinn @mashiromochi @loveletterfrommwah @mandodinstuff @muzansucker @theleftkittycollection @kikookii @www-interludeshadow-com @holographicang3l @aisyakirmann @bucky-to-my-barnes

[grandline-fics]

Forget-Me-Not

DESCRIPTION: Sometimes things happen beyond our control. After an accident occurs your relationship with Zoro is turned on its head and changed forever.

WARNINGS: angst

CHARACTERS: Zoro

WORDS: 2,410

A/N: I've been slow on this because of being unwell but part two is finally here. I hope you all enjoy it as much as you liked part one

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST | PROMPT LIST

Chapter One | Chapter Two(here)| Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven(coming soon)

———————

“Zoro hurry! We’re over here!” Zoro stumbled through the rain-slick uneven terrain of the forest, racing towards the direction that Usopp’s calls were coming from over the sound of the shrieking winds and rolling thunder. He broke through the branches and slid to a halt to see Usopp and Chopper knelt by your prone form. Usopp’s role was only to assist Chopper who was frantically tending to your injuries that required the most dire attention first. Zoro’s heart all but stopped as he took slow, heavy steps closer. His chest ached with the breath he wasn’t aware he was holding. In that moment you looked so frail and small. The rainwater managing to break through the small shelter Usopp must have constructed hastily was slowly washing the blood and dirt from your body that was broken. 

Looking away in the sudden flash of lightning Zoro could see how this happened. The displaced dirt and stone made him follow his gaze upwards to see the steep incline with the dilapidated ruins that had been hidden in the overgrowth of the forest. With the storm hitting out of nowhere it was far too easy for the ground to crumble and give-away without warning and you were the one to suffer for the moment none of you could have predicted. With heavy limbs he sank to his knees beside you, just wanting to hold your hand or caress your face and tell you that he was there but he couldn’t bring himself to move out of fear he’d hurt your already injury heavy body or get in Chopper’s way. For all the training he’d done in this moment he was utterly helpless. 

Zoro woke with a jolt at the loud snap of thunder coming from outside. As the memory of your accident lifted from his sleepy state he slowly looked to your bedside. He’d hoped that the image would have changed in the short amount of time he’d slept, sadly you lay there just as always. It had been a week since that day and you’d yet to open your eyes. Chopper had done his best to reassure him that you being unconscious would be best for your body to have this time to rest and heal. He let out a small sigh and reached across to take your hand into his when another flash of lightning hit and a strong wave rocked the ship.

These storms were like clockwork, it’d be bright sunshine and summer weather only for storm to hit hard for two hours and then dissipate like nothing had happened. Just another day and the Log Pose would be set and they could finally leave this island behind them. He knew he shouldn’t blame an island for what happened to you but he did. He also blamed himself, he should have made more of an effort to spend the time with you. Franky and the stupid cook were more than enough to have gone with Luffy that day. Had he been with you that day part of him believed he could have been able to save you. Getting agitated again, Zoro rose from your bedside and roughly ran his hand through his hair. He needed to do something, anything. 

Chopper had said that speaking to you even while you were unconscious could help. Originally he didn’t want to out of his own hate of seeming vulnerable but then he took to reading your favourite book to you but that was finished. So he went to your shared room to find another you’d loved. What he hadn’t been expecting though in the time it took for him to return to the medical room he found the bed you’d been lying in was empty and there was no sign of you. Dropping the book he turned on his heel and went in search of you in desperation. There was no way you were ready to be out of bed, if you put too much strain on yourself your wounds could reopen. In all the times you’d been hurt before it wasn’t like you to do something this reckless. Where were you? 

As he walked down the hallway he felt a chill creep over his skin. Who’d left the door open leading to the deck? No one would be that stupid with the storm still going on outside. Prepared to go out and shout at whoever was to blame, Zoro froze to see you weakly stagger to the railing and stare out at the storm. He couldn’t contain his excitement and relief to see you awake but concern also gripped him. Even from here he could see the pain in your eyes. Quickly he approached and set his hand on your shoulder, freezing to hear you let out a scream of surprise. He was going to apologise for startling you but another more pressing question came instead.

“What are you doing out here?” He asked in concern. He could see the rain soaking into your skin and the bandages that would now need to be thoroughly changed. Zoro could feel the tremor in your body and the haze in your eyes. Desperate to keep you from further strain he spoke again. “Come on, we need to get you dried off before you get sick on top of injured.” He lightly flexed his fingers on your shoulder to begin leading you inside but you didn’t move and then the new devastating hit came when Zoro heard you speak.

“Who are you?” You asked, your voice so weak and scared that Zoro could only stare at you with widened eyes, trying to stay calm. “Where am I?” This question was no better than the last and for a brief moment Zoro had thought he’d misheard you but no, it was clear you had no memory of the accident, no memory of him, the crew, or the ship that you’d called home since the day you joined the crew. At that thought a new worry took hold. You had no memory of how you met any of them. He needed to keep you calm or things would only get worse. 

“Just please come inside otherwise you’ll get sick and your wounds could reopen.” Zoro urged as gently as he could but his request only served to make you frown uneasily at him. When you didn’t move he spoke your name as a sign he knew you and that made you hesitate in your suspicion. “Please come inside and I’ll tell you everything you want to know.” 

Zoro watched the conflict and uncertainty flicker in your eyes as you searched his face, trying to force yourself through the pain to try and find something recognisable in his features. You were about to relent to his request when the door to the galley slammed open. 

“Hey moron what are you doing out in the storm?!” Sanji shouted only to stop his lecture to Zoro when he saw your face, his expression lighting up immediately. You flinched as yet another stranger called out your name in an all too friendly tone. You watched the blonde approach the staircase as he continued. “It’s a relief to see you awake! You should still be in bed though!” 

You glanced past him and stared in mounting horror as an emblem caught your eye. Your breath hitched and you took a small step back only to find the railing stopped you going any further. With trembling lips you could only move to the side, stepping out from the first stranger’s touch. Zoro felt you move and turned away from Sanji to see your horror filled expression and he knew it was too late now to avoid where you realised you were. Zoro tried to take a step toward you but finally your gaze returned to his face and the fear made him stop. 

“Pirates…” you choked out. “You’re pirates.” Desperately you looked around as the rain above you began to lessen and the winds began to ease. Swallowing hard through your pain and fear you could see the island the ship was docked at which only mounted your overwhelming emotions. “That’s not my home. That’s not my island. Where did you take me!?” You shouted only to double over in agony as your vision blurred. Holding your side you coughed hard and winced when you felt the still healing skin pull. Letting out a shaky breath you looked at the two mean staring at you with worry and desperation. “What did you do to me?” You asked as you felt your head spin and vision crumble under the weight of the physical and mental distress. 

Zoro was quick and caught you with ease. With the utmost care he cradled you close and stared down at you in heartache and regret. He wished all of this was just a horrible nightmare, he wished that if he could trade places and take all the pain you were suffering just as he’d taken for Luffy on Thriller Bark then he would do it one hundred times over because seeing that expression on your face was more painful than anything he’d ever had to endure in his life. Without taking his eyes off of your face he headed towards the doorway. “Get the others.” Was his only instruction to Sanji as he carried you back to the medical quarters, relieved to see Chopper there who was frantic about where you’d disappeared to. 

—————

As you lay sleeping in the medical room, Zoro and the rest of the Strawhats stood in the dining room, silent and taking in the revelation that you’d woken with no memory of them. As difficult as it was to process there was the added complication of your reaction. 

“They won’t trust us.” Nami murmured sadly, finally being the one to break the silence, her fingers absently tracing the scar of Arlong’s mark now hidden by her tattoo. “We only won their trust the first time because we helped them defeat the pirates that terrorised their island. They won’t just take our word this time that it all worked out and they joined us willingly.”

“We can’t overwhelm them.” Chopper spoke up sternly. “Head injuries like theirs bring their own complications, amnesia being only one aspect of that. They need to take things as slowly as possible, any form of added stress could severely worsen their other injuries too. It isn’t wise to just throw everything at them as once, we can’t even know for certain if their memories will ever return. For now the priority is their physical injuries healing.”

“We have to prove we’re friend though!” Luffy protested with a pout. “We’d never hurt them. What if we show them their bounty poster?”

“This can’t be about what we want. They come first so don’t crowd them when they’re awake.” Zoro finally spoke, glaring at the wall. “They tell us to get the hell out of their room, we leave. Even if we’re telling them the truth just saying they joined the crew willingly and that we’re friends is going to magically make it better. Let’s just do as Chopper says.”

“More than friends in your case, Zoro…” Robin spoke softly. “Are you okay with them getting well physically and then wanting to leave?”

“If that’s what they want.” Zoro answered numbly as he got to his feet. “I’m going to the Crow’s Nest. I mean it, don’t crowd them.”

————— 

You woke slowly, feeling the pain you remembered had greatly dulled enough for you to be able to breath easier but still you couldn’t shake the fear pressing heavily on your chest. You couldn’t shake the image of the strange Jolly Roger and the two strange pirates from your mind. So many questions swirled in your head and you feared how blank your mind was. Slowly you sat up in the bed and met the stare of the peculiar but adorable reindeer sat at the desk on the other side of the room. At first you thought it was a pet but you could clearly see it was working with herbs on the table it was sat at. “Um…hi?” You offered cautiously, startled when the reindeer’s expression lit up and it approached your bedside.

“I’m glad you’re awake.” You didn’t know what to do when they spoke except stare with wide eyes. “I’m Chopper and I’m the doctor…your doctor. I know you don’t remember but I promise I just want to help you get better. Is it okay if I check your bandages?” 

Slowly you looked at the bandages visible on your arms and felt them against your body. Comparing how much easier it felt to move and breathe to when you’d woken up you were willing to let this reindeer continue his treatment if he was the reason for the pain to have lessened like this. Still the reality of a reindeer being a doctor was difficult to wrap your head around so you only gave a tiny a nod. You noted the relief and optimism light Chopper’s expression at your acceptance and you nervously bit your lip while he hopped up onto the bed and began his examination. “How did I end up here?”

Chopper looked up at you with apprehension, his large expressive eyes carefully assessing you. 

“There was an accident.” He answered. “We were in a forest when a storm hit. You fell.” Fell. You obviously had no memory of the incident and while you couldn’t bring yourself to argue with Chopper for proof you also couldn’t completely bring yourself to believe him entirely either. He was a pirate after all. Would he stop treating you if you became difficult? Possibly. 

You knew pirates at their core were selfish and the ones that plagued your island were crueler than these ones seemed but still you refused to trust them. This friendly demeanour could be an act and they could be looking for something from you. For now you would have to pace yourself, you would be compliant and gather your strength. Then when you were able you were going to escape this ship and these pirates. You needed to get home and nothing and no one was going to stop you. When Chopper finished his examination you had to force yourself to offer him a small smile. When he beamed back at you, you hoped that the others could be as easily swayed as him.

------------------------------------------------

TAG LIST (If I've missed anyone or if you want to be added just let me know) @3v37773, @tsaaps , @i-am-all-love-puns-and-lazy , @sanemisnonexistenteyebrow , @fiery-captain-spider-santa , @vikispike , @portgasmyass

[lovelykhaleesiii]

Can I request some sort of smut with Prince Regent!Aemond? I can't get him out of my head!!!! I see him being so mean and intimidating on the Iron Throne, like he wouldn't wear the eye patch bc he knows he looks "scary" to everyone in the court without it...except his little wife doesn't find him scary. His sweet wife is willing to fulfill his every need, no matter what that is, and is a good girl for him when he fucks her roughly, and it ends up melting his cold heart. Just a thought 😮‍💨

please the heinous bitch I'll become when Aemond takes this role on, lord forgive me. this is brilliant, thanks for sending in the ask boo xx

hope you love it!

Dearest, Ruthless Husband

PAIRING: Prince Regent!Aemond Targaryen x fem!Wife!Reader

WORDS: 2,432.

WARNINGS: swearing, mentions of cruel!Aemond, degradation kink, p in v sexual intercourse (consensual), oral male receiving, mentions of breeding kink.

A/N - writing this got me so hyped for Prince Regent Aemond!!! I hope you all enjoy, the smut is a little different to what I normally write or go about it, but sue me. Intrusive thoughts won!!!!

The Dance of the Dragons as most maesters and commoners of King's Landing had dubbed the unfolding family feud within House Targaryen, was beginning to simmer and churn. Brutal words exchanged, promises unkept and broken, and battles ruthlessly fought, both sides began to earn their gains, and yet also face immense losses. The most recent, left the Usurper King Aegon, burnt and beyond repair. The King had succumbed to his bed chambers, in the endless care of maesters, tending to his wounds as he remained unconscious from milk of the poppy. Although the realm staggered on, it needed to be assigned someone to represent the sovereign himself, and no other candidate stood out, other than your royal husband, Prince Regent, Aemond Targaryen.

Before the war had torn through the Seven Kingdoms, you had been betrothed to the young Prince. Paramount in securing an alliance on behalf of the Crown, you had grown doubtful that the marriage would remain fruitful, weary that Aemond merely saw you more as an obligation than an actual human being. Much to your surprise and in favour of the Gods, the Targaryen prince, took a key interest in you, as you gradually began to spend more and more time immersed in each other's sole company. Till proof had been cemented when he meekly admitted his love for you.

"It will be undying, this union, bound to me forever, my love. You will never no of hate nor harm, that I can promise you, my wife to be."

And although, Aemond had always been more of a withdrawn, private man since your first acquaintance, the longer this war prolonged, the more it seemed to have hardened his exterior. The man you'd once soulfully cherished and dreamt of now absent, replaced by a strange clone, the warmth buried inside seemed to have gone out like a candle in the wind.

He did no harm towards you, although, you scarcely saw him. Occasionally, he'd accompany you to dinner, only to be torn away from you, more prominent, urgent matters to attend that broke in the dead hour of the night. The bed had grown lonesome, and you struggled to sleep without his comforting presence and familiar body warmth. Regardless, your safety was still a priority, he made certain that you were around, in his vicinity.

****

Nowadays, you often found your husband seated firmly atop the Iron Throne, speaking and acting on behalf of his elder brother, the King. Many a times, he'd often privately disclosed of how he'd envisioned himself instead, given the miraculous chance, he sternly believed he'd be the better choice, "I'm far more suited than the likes of him." And yet, now that his treasonous wish had been granted, the circumstances unfortunate, he did not feel as willing for it. Eager to uphold duty nonetheless, you knew, however, that Aemond loved his family immensely, this including Aegon. They grew together, trained together and fought together. Yet he only now, fully understood the burden in which the crown wielded.

Today was no less different.

Entering the throne room, crowded by those who'd sworn allegiance unto King Aegon the Second, and those in chains, forced upon their knees, for those who had instead sworn fealty to Rhaenyra only to be captured. Aemond coldly observed them from above, the ferocity of the throne, its sharp, steel blades exemplified by his exposed sapphire eye. Since your beloved husband was publicly anointed as Prince Regent, he had taken to the habit of unveiling his lost eye, no longer bearing the notorious eye patch that modestly covered his ailment. He never hid it out of shame, though rather sympathetically as means to not frighten the maidens of the court. Yet the spoils of war had unleashed a crueler side to Aemond, one that you did not sense of its existence, though neither grew fearful of.

"Sided with the false Queen, my elder sister, Rhaenyra Targaryen, you have committed the highest form of treason against the Crown... Cowards and traitors, you shall all face the wroth of the Dragons through me... I do not see it fit to send you all to the Wall, no that would be mercy...Death to the whole lot of you."

His words sent a cold chill through your body, shuddering against his low, unwavering tone. Aemond had always spoken with a steadiness, and that remained unchanged. You could not deny that seeing such a formidable side of Aemond, unlike before, was invigorating. In the haste moments that you were caught in your own bewildered thoughts, with a sway of his hand swatting for the guards to remove said traitors, the out-roar of prisoners begging and pleading before their Prince Regent and the rattling of their heavy chains as they'd been forcefully led away was a chilling memory. After the final few had left to the dungeons below, you'd caught sight of Aemond staring right at you. Mindlessly, a faint smile fell upon your gentle face, and in a few seconds to come, Aemond demanded that all vacate the room, except for you. As the others departed, you walked in the opposing way, strolling closer and closer to where your husband remained comfortably seated, coming to a halt before the stony steps.

Upon hearing the final closing of the main, oak doors, an eerie silence fell upon the void of the room. Aemond's eye turned from the shut doors back down unto your feeble state below, the height and distance made you look smaller, more miniscule.

"You dare to taunt me with that smile, woman? Your presence during court already weakens me so."

"I merely wish to see my husband in all his glory, for it feels like a lifetime that I have not been blessed in his company. If needs be that I must seek you out myself, then so be it."

"Hmm."

Just as you'd taken the first step up, Aemond commanded for you to stop. Caught mid-way, you were startled by his objection as he often never resisted you.

"You think you can go unpunished just like that, do as you please and walk yourself right up here. Simply because you're my little whore?"

You were mildly perplexed by his minor outburst, although with the sly grin strewed across his face and the low deep chuckle he provoked from his own amusement, you knew he was simply taunting you. And yet, being Prince Regent, you had no choice but to obey.

"On all fours woman, I want to see you crawl to me, like the bitch that you are."

Hesitant at first, the burning glare from your husband's end though convinced you otherwise. Now on all fours, you slowly began to mechanic your way up to him, feeling Aemond's grin seething into the tender skin of your back, straight through your gown. Did this amuse him, seeing you grabble for him on the grimy, ancient floor, practically yielding to his every word.

Now at his feet, you remained on your knees, sore palms resting on your thighs, you looked up at him eagerly, a soft smile upon your face. If he thought he could taunt or debase you, he should reconsider.

"Satisfied yet, my dearest?" You meekly interject, your smile growing brighter.

"Not yet. Have you any bright ideas, wife, or must I command you like a hound?"

Although his voice stern, the sly grin remained faintly embedded across his face, and eyebrow perked, eager for your response. Yet your remained endearing, a lustful look across your face, as your hands began to gently make there way up his lean thighs.

"You have worked so tirelessly for the realm, and yet your wife remains lonesome, in her own company. From time to time, my husband is too busy fulfilling the duties of the realm, he seems to have forgotten his duty to his wife. Leaving me to touch myself so desperately... I suppose, I must remind him."

Now your hands reached the buttons of his trousers, Aemond bucks his hips forward, as you undo them, pulling them and his under garments just low enough, that his bare cock strings out. Already glistening at its tip, the sight always left you dumbfounded. His length was greater than average, and veiny, you could sense its palpating throbs against the soft palms of your hands, as you began to stroke its firm state.

"Already hard for me, my Prince. Have you missed me so?"

His pre-cum already spilling from the pinkish tip, you'd noticed the more fasten your pace grew, the firmer his grip tightened on the metal arm rests of the throne. His once-steady breathing now heavier.

"Fuck Y/N. Don't keep me waiting."

A sweet giggle escaped your lips, as his eye and the sapphire gem remained fixated on your kneeling frame below his knees. Soon enough, still massaging his hardening cock, you ease yourself between his thighs, spreading his legs out wider for you to adjust yourself. His wish, his command, you brought your mouth to his cock, in the same, sensual pace, sucking at his cock, feeling the throbs and familiar taste in your mouth.

"Seven fucking Hells," He breathlessly huffed, his chest now heaving against your slow, engulfing motions.

It was undeniable that the tip of his cock was stiffly hitting the back of your throat, regardless of how often this act was done in the privacy of your shared chambers, his length was one you could never quite adjust to, often gagging at it, although now you'd grown familiar to manoeuvre and angle it accordingly.

"That tight, pretty mouth of yours, oh, how I've missed it."

It had been a while since Aemond and yourself had shared these intimate moments only lawful between a man and his woman, since the uprising of the war. The Gods were now charitable, for both your favours were being met.

"Mmm. F-Fuck I'm close, Princess. Straightened up."

The thudding of his hard, long cock you could feel had grown tenser. Pulling out, caused a visceral reaction from him, as you once more, obeyed his command, straightening your posture enough, that the cleavage of your breasts was the main attraction between his thighs. Immediately, he hastily spilled his warm seed over your breasts, causing a mess all over you, some of his wetness had seeped in between the cleavage, whilst the rest glistened against your soft skin, before pooling down, drenching your garments.

"A masterpiece if I ever saw one," He chuckled, as his thumb tenderly wiped away at the remnants lingering over the corner of your moist lips.

"Aemond, I need you dearest," You sulkily yearned, a hand clutching to your clothed cunt, feeling yourself beginning to grow avid, as a long, familiar feeling brew between your thighs.

"Up- Come, my dearest-" His hand smacked against his thigh, as the other held your hand in is lifting you up, guiding you to ease yourself down over him: hastily pulling your layered gown up and tearing your undergarments into two, his firm cock easily finding its way inside of you.

Muffled moans helplessly tore through you, once again, the neediness for your husband's cock, and the long-awaited wait, stimulating you enough. His wetness that coated him, helped to ease himself plunging in, now adjusted, your hips beginning to sway forwards and back over his strong lap, his rough hands held you firmly by the waist, steadying you over him.

"I ought to fuck you senseless, leave you satisfied enough for until the next time I return from battle. Perhaps I ought to fuck a babe into you, my dearest."

Still childless, it was all bad-timing for only a few months after your wedding, the war broke out and Aemond was caught in the haste of it all. He scarcely had time to bed you, although now that his family numbers were dwindling, it seemed a babe was of great importance, an heir for the Prince Regent.

"Y-Yes, Aem- I want your child."

"Your wish is my command, wife. I shall see you swell greatly with child, as many sons and daughters as I see fit."

Earning more helpless cries and screams for your husband, the room echoed with your pleas and Aemond's heavy breathing. You were certain the guards posted outside, would know of the events unfolding from within, and yet no shame. For they'd have to answer to Aemond, and that itself, was a threat.

"Fill this pretty cunt of yours, this cunt that belongs to me. I shall keep you full, as need be."

"A-As you desire, m-my Prince-"

One of Aemond's hands remained supporting your lumbar, snaking its way behind, and the other found its way to your scalp, tugging and pulling at your hair, as your head rocked back in tune to his aggressive motions. Words no longer comprehensible to exchange, Aemond's lips found themselves occupied, lapping and suckling at the sensitive crook of your neck, leaving harsh, red marks across your skin.

"Finish me, Aem. I-I need you to fill me-"

The excitement that had brewed in anticipation for this monumental moment, had finally met its need. Your sweet, hot cum pooled over his sturdy, long cock inside, pooling beneath your gown, and in response, evoked the same pleasurable reaction from your husband. Feeling his hot seed once more, shooting itself inside, coating your walls. You felt certain a child was procreated in that precise moments, though regardless, would pray to the Gods to grant you the chance to bear a healthy babe.

Huffing and puffing, hot, perspiring skin against each other, resting your foreheads against one another, almost in sync, you both exchanged faint, genuine laughter.

"I-I have missed you my dearest. It pains me so, to be away from you so often and for so long. I cherish these moments with you, even catching you lingering in the shadows, watching me."

His sweet words warmed your meek heart, and you knew that your husband was apologetic in some sense, even if he struggled to admit it.

"I know my love, but soon enough, a war always comes to an end. Just be sure, I have you returned to me in one piece, and at my beckon call."

A deep, low chucked echoed from deep inside him, as he bashfully looked down, before returning his sole gaze unto you, your fingers toying with long strands of his platinum hair.

"Even if the Gods have other plans, I will defy them for you, always. I promise to return to you, and if the Mother is willing, a babe in your arms. I love you."

general taglist - @evenstaris @chompchompluke @fan-goddess @malfoytargaryen @ilikeitbetterangsty @bibli0thecary @m1ndbrand @randomdragonfires

Aemond taglist - @godrakin @megatardisbaby @harrypotteranna23-blog

[blurredcolour]

We'll Meet Again

[One-shot]

Eugene Roe x Nurse!Female Reader

Nine hours is all it takes for Eugene Roe to realize that his hesitance to share his feelings for you was completely misguided.

Warnings: Language, Weapons, Canon Typical Violence, Smoking, Treatment of Wounds, Medical Procedures, Hospital Settings, Pining, Questionably Written Cajun Accent, Inevitable Historical and Military Inaccuracies, Mature/Explicit Themes - 18+ ONLY

Author’s Note: The title of this fic is based off the song We'll Meet Again by Vera Lynn (I recommend the version where she is accompanied by Sailors, Soldiers & Airmen of His Majesty's Forces). This is a work of fiction based off the portrayal by the actors in the HBO series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life individuals referenced within.

Word Count: 7578

-------------------------

“Roe it’s not mine, I’m alright. Roe.” Eugene was vaguely aware of your voice as he pulled at your blood drenched field jacket, fingers fumbling slightly as he fought with the buttons before he was able to delve beneath, beginning to tug at your sweater and wool shirt, desperate to find where you were hit. “I’m fine, please…Eugene!” You grabbed his wrists forcefully, your blood-slicked fingers sliding against his skin, but it was enough to finally pull his attention to your face. “It’s not my blood, I’m alright.” You repeated gently as his eyes met yours and he exhaled at last.

He frowned anew as he lifted a hand to wipe at the splatter of arterial spray across your cheek, succeeding only in smudging the scarlet across your beautiful skin, marring it further. You sighed and gestured with your head to the SS officer laying on the table behind him, his now-unseeing eyes staring blankly up at the ceiling, the wound at his neck obviously the source of all the blood you wore.

You tugged at his left wrist, which you still held within your grasp, and he looked back to you quickly, following as you led him over to a bank of sinks at the back of the room. As you released him, he watched you grimace slightly at the sensation of the blood growing slightly tacky between your skin and his. You took both his hands in yours and gently began to wash them.

Eugene’s heart throbbed tenderly as he watched the warm water sluice pink before your fingers thoroughly coated his skin with soap then rinsed it clean. Looking up to you with a soft smile, he was reminded of the state of your face and quickly swiped it clean with his wet thumb, lips stretching hopelessly wider at your warm grin.

“Nine hou’s.” He sighed, jaw clenching as his chest constricted painfully, the terror and anguish he’d been desperately trying to hold at bay all day flooding back to him.

“What?” You asked, confusion painting your face and he swallowed roughly, having to fight to focus while standing in your presence after so many months apart.

“Ya were missin’ – a hostage – fo’ nine hou’s.” He pressed his lips together, struggling to hold back the depth and breadth of his feelings on the matter.

He watched you swallow and put on that brave smile you wore for the sake of soothing your patients. “It was just like any other nine hours, except there were German patients and machine guns.”

“Please don’ give me tha’ smile.” He muttered sadly. “Are ya really alrigh’?” He pressed, eyeing you meaningfully.

Your brow twitched, mouth opening, looking about answer his question when the door to the room opened and you stepped back to grab a towel, handing it to him. “I’m just fine, Roe, thank you for asking. The rest of the SS patients are through that door there.” You gestured, nodding to the latest arrival, Webster, who quickly went through to secure the next room with Liebgott hot on his heels.

Roe watched as you assumed your professional mantle, leading him into the room where seven SS men, prisoners now, were being looked after by the rest of the nurses that had been in your hospital convoy when the 6th SS Mountain Division had decided to take you all hostage to provide them with medical care in this abandoned nursing home near Juchen. The women immediately flocked to you for direction and Eugene realized that you now wore a silver 1st Lieutenant’s insignia on your collar, promoted since he’d first met you that night in February of last year in Swindon.

------------

“These heels are killing me…” You muttered as you finally escaped the dancefloor to sit at the table next to Eugene’s, wedging yourself into the corner defensively.

He’d been watching you all night. Watching as trooper after trooper of the 506th from Able right through Item asked you to dance, barely giving you a moment to sit despite how tired you looked, behind that beautiful smile of yours, and how time and again you accepted, too polite to refuse.

“I’m surprised you didn’t wear your combat boots.” One of your tablemates teased.

A mischievous grin crossed your features and Eugene ducked his head as he found his lips twitching automatically in response to it. “Well, I would have except every time I upend the things, I still find sand from North Africa.”

A chorus of laughter flitted around the table and Eugene was convinced that yours was the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard, finding himself thoroughly annoyed when it was extinguished by a couple of men sidling over to pull a few of your fellow nurses onto the dancefloor again.

“What was it like…over there…” A timid voice piped up as the band began to play that Vera Lynn song the Brits were crazy about and Eugene risked a glance at your face as you addressed a young woman, she could not be much older than twenty, only the two of you remaining at the table.

“Well, Barbara,” You paused thoughtfully, eyes focusing on some distant memory, the hints of fatigue he’d seen lurking beneath your smile coming to the fore for a brief moment before you turned to your colleague with a reassuring warmth. “It’s exactly like they say it’ll be.” You nodded firmly.

The girl’s shoulders relaxed as she smiled in relief, nodding in renewed confidence as you each took a sip of your drink. Eugene swallowed, wishing he could hear your real thoughts on North Africa, not just the canned propaganda reels put together to show before the pictures, but the firsthand account of a medical professional. There was only so much training could prepare them for, and they all knew as soon as the weather was right, they were headed for France.

Despite the longing he felt to do so, Eugene did not ask you to dance that night. He drank a few beers and smoked more than a few cigarettes as you forced yourself onto the dancefloor three additional times before you and the youngest of your companions decided to call it a night. Eugene felt that was a sensible idea – the number of buses back to Aldbourne was growing increasingly limited by the hour.

As dictated by the blackout, clumps of people were walking on either side of the road with their flashlights pointed downward, barely lighting their way as vehicles with their headlights reduced to mere slits wended their way through the crowd of inebriated celebrants. Eugene could not help but feel like it was a recipe for disaster, but your laughter, like the peal of bells, pulled his attention from across the darkened street.

“It’s snowing!” You declared with a wonder-filled gasp, and he blinked up at the sky to feel the kiss of melting snowflakes on his cheeks, his breath curling and hanging in the notably colder air.

The peace of the moment was shattered as an unruly group of men from Fox company bolted across the road, trying to reach the same bus stop he was heading for, a drunken straggler not seeing the delivery van and unfortunately the driver not seeing him either – until it was too late. There was a squealing of tires, a ‘crash’ as the load within the van was displaced, and a sickening ‘crunch’ followed by a wail of pain. Eugene lunged into the street, surprised to find you already kneeling beside the victim as you looked him over.

“What’s your name, trooper?” You were smiling warmly, your colleague hovering behind you nervously as the driver had begun pacing anxiously.

“Robert Boye, Ma’am.” He replied through clenched teeth.

Unlike the calm look on your face, your hands were a flurry of movement, honing in on the compound fracture on the man’s leg, lifting your fingers into the slim beams of light to reveal blood from where the bone had broken through his skin. Eugene was already undoing his belt when you turned to him, and you graced him with a brilliant smile that had his adrenaline-fueled heart skipping a few beats.

“I’m a medic, Ma’am. Tourniquet?”

“On his thigh, please, trooper.” You nodded, shrugging out of your overcoat to drape over Boye. “We’re going to get you to a hospital, alright Robert. Just hold on.” Standing quickly, you walked over to the delivery driver though Eugene wasn’t able to hear your conversation as he finished checking over the man in the road, confirming there were no other apparent injuries.

“You’e from Fox company, righ’?”

“Yeah, that’s right…Easy?” He replied, shaking from the cold or shock – or both, most likely.

Eugene nodded in reply, lifting his eyes as the delivery driver raised his voice at you, the sound of crates and empty milk jugs hitting the sidewalk filling the night air.

“Ya crazy Yankee cunt, what in god’s name d’ya think yer doin’?!”

By then quite a crowd had gathered in the road, and the slur hurled your way had more than just Eugene’s hackles up. Undeterred, you stepped forward, looking the rude and careless man directly in the eye. “You’ve struck an innocent pedestrian and now you’re going to make it right, sir. Your cargo will be right where you left it.”

He returned the look coldly but seemed increasingly aware of the looming threat in the darkness about you, eventually huffing in agreement. You provided directions to a hospital Eugene recognized as the nearest American hospital, surely that was where you were stationed, before sending several men to help him load Boye into the back.

“Medic, please come with me?” You looked to him as you climbed into the van and Eugene nodded quickly, jumping into the back with you as you looked to the wide-eyed young woman standing at the curb, watching you in awe.

“Barbara, go back inside and find Fran. Get her to walk you home.”

“Y..yes Ma’am!” She nodded quickly before hurrying back toward the dance hall as the back doors of the van were closed, leaving the three of you in darkness as the van lurched into motion.

“Medic…” You huffed and introduced yourself properly before asking him his name.

“Eugene Roe, Ma’am.” He replied quickly, turning on his flashlight. He was rewarded once again with one of your heart-stopping smiles.

“Wonderful, you have a flashlight. Thank you. How’re you holding up Robert?” You turned your attention back to the patient, checking his pulse at his wrist, pressing a hand to his forehead – most likely to assess for temperature and perspiration.

“Hurts an awful lot, Ma’am.” He grunted as the van hit a rut and you nodded sympathetically, kneeling on the floor beside him in your dress uniform, balancing easily as the van wove its way through the crowd outside the dancehall with more care this time.

“Thank you very much for being so brave for me. Where are you from?”

“Yakima, Washington.”

“Tell me, Robert. If I were to visit Yakima, Washington what is the food I absolutely must try?” You asked, bracing yourself against the roof as the driver took a wide turn.

“My momma’s cherry pie, without a doubt. My father grows bing cherries. Best in the state. And then my momma makes the best pie you will ever eat in your life.” Robert replied with relaxed smile, conversation taking his mind off the pain in his leg.

“Cherry pie – that sounds positively heavenly. So, you grew up on a cherry farm?” Your practiced smile and encouragement prompted the injured man to ramble on about his childhood playing amongst the cherry blossoms, gorging himself on ripe fruit, and skiing in the mountains whilst you the pair of you subtly kept an eye on his wound and vitals. Ever vigilant for a sudden change in demeanour that might signify a head injury or internal bleeding – your patient management was effortless, and Eugene could only feel his affection for you growing.

He was admittedly a little disappointed when the van came to a stop, the flustered driver opening the doors as a duty nurse came outside and gasped to find the three of you in the back of the unassuming vehicle.

“I’ll be right back with a stretcher!” She called out before dashing inside, returning promptly with two orderlies to help load the injured Boye so he might be carted inside.

The pair of you rushed behind into the temporary hospital in a building that looked like it had begun its life as a warehouse of some kind. The shift Doctor appeared from down the hall, and you quickly provided all pertinent information related to treatment.

“Well, you two had best inform the MPs as well, before that driver disappears on us.”

“Yes, sir.” You replied quickly, shooting Eugene an apologetic look before leading him to the MP office at the front of the hospital to make your report, pulling your garrison cap from your head, reminding him to do the same.

You’d barely started your tale when the MP told you both to ‘take a seat’ and dashed out of the office to try and stop the driver and you looked to him with even more pronounced regret. “I’m so sorry, Roe, I’m sure you were just trying to get back to your billet.”

Your use of his last name undoubtedly came from place of professional courtesy, however a part of him ached with the longing to hear how your mouth might form his first name.

“Not at all, Ma’am.” He gestured for you to take one of the empty chairs, only sitting once you had sunk into it with a soft sigh.

“Thank you very much for your help. I was feeling quite adrift with no supplies but then the universe sent me you.” You smiled warmly and he swallowed thickly.

“Ya did all tha work, Ma’am, I was jus’ there.”

Shaking your head stubbornly, he frowned a little as he watched a small shiver roll through you, belatedly realizing your coat had long since vanished with Boye. He started to pull at the jacket of his dress uniform, and you lay a hand on his arm.

“I’m alright, just tired. Based on your accent, I’d say you need your jacket more than me.” You smiled teasingly and he huffed a laugh, looking down at his shoes briefly as he straightened his uniform before lifting his eyes to meet yours quickly.

“It was impressive, Ma’am, how ya stood up ta tha’ man.”

You looked to him earnestly then, not sugar-coating your expression, or your answer, as you had for Barbara. “If we don’t stand up for our patients, Roe, no one will.” You spoke with breathtaking sincerity and all he could muster in response was a firm nod.

The door banged open as the MP hauled the very man in question into the office, his expression going livid as he once again came face to face with you.

“Goddamn Yankee cunt.” He spat at you, making Eugene surge to his feet to stand in front of you protectively, the scent of liquor potent on the man’s breath as he brushed by his rigid frame.

“I’ll be right back to take your statements, one moment.” The MP muttered, putting the uncooperative driver in a back room.

“Could this night get any longer…” You whispered and pinched the bridge of your nose, making Eugene turn back to you.

“How long ya been in England?” He asked, trying your own trick of distraction on you as he resumed his seat.

“Hmm? Oh, landed two weeks ago, I guess. Thought a break from the heat would be nice, hasn’t been quite as quaint as I was led to believe.” You laughed softly and shook your head. “You?”

“Las’ Septembah.”

“Well, I bet you know all the best spots by now then, hmm?” You smirked and he shook his head with rueful smile but did not have the chance to elaborate on his lack of free time as the MP returned to finally take your full statements.

It was nearly two in the morning once all the paperwork was done, the driver of the van turned over to the local police while the MP summoned a subordinate to return the pair of you to your billets.

“See you in a few hours.” The nurse who’d first greeted the pair of you poked her head out of the doorway to the treatment room.

You laughed without much energy. “For sure, Betty. Thanks for your help.”

“You work weekends?” Roe asked quietly, offering a hand to help you into the back of the jeep and you nodded as he settled next to you.

“My days off are Monday, Tuesday.” He must have frowned visibly as you shrugged with a weary smile. “It’s alright, I was the last to arrive here and someone needs to do it.”

As you hugged your arms around yourself tightly in the open back of the vehicle, overcoat still nowhere to be seen, he shifted to try and block the wind with his body. As you shuffled closer, huddling against him slightly, he swallowed thickly, his heart hammering against his ribs.

“You’re going to do great out there, Eugene Roe.” You smiled warmly, the vehicle pulling up outside a nearby shop with an apartment on the second floor.

“Thank ya, Ma’am.” He murmured quietly, taking a shaky breath as you climbed out of the jeep, pausing to wave at him from the curb.

He ought to ask to see you again, to write to you, something, but a part of him was reluctant to start anything he might not be able to see through with his future so very uncertain. He lifted his hand in return as the MP pulled out to drive him back to Aldbourne, regret immediately settling into his gut, leaving a sour aftertaste in his mouth.

Eugene was surprised when his belt arrived at his billet the following Thursday along with a note from you, once again thanking him for his assistance with Robert Boye’s care. You also assured him the patient was doing well and would be ‘fighting fit’ within a few months. He was impressed to see not a trace of blood on the woven fabric, indicating that you had obviously taken the time to clean it for him. Unable to stop the fond smile from unfurling on his features, he quickly hid the note in the pocket of his ODs as he heard Spina’s footsteps on the stairs.

“You coming to London this weekend, Gene?” He asked, sitting heavily on his bed in the corner and Eugene found himself shaking his head in return.

“Too much to do.” He replied vaguely, recalling one of the posters from the hospital hallway calling for blood donations.

“You’re missing out.” Spina teased in a sing-song voice, laying back on his bed once he’d taken off his boots.

The smile you greeted him with Saturday morning when he arrived to donate blood thoroughly convinced him otherwise.

“That’s very generous of you Roe, follow me, I’ll get you set up.” You turned to lead him past a few of the occupied beds and he nodded warmly to Boye as he looked up from a letter he was reading. “If you could take off your jacket and roll up your sleeve please, I’ll be right back with the supplies.” You said as you gestured to a cot, unfolding a privacy screen before turning to fetch the necessities.

Eugene complied, swallowing thickly as he watched the way your hospital dress swished around your hips as you walked away, quite frankly preferring this outfit to your dress uniform. Returning with a collection bottle, needle, and some tubing, you lifted his arm to search for a vein. He swallowed thickly at the goosebumps that rippled across his skin, able to smell the scent of soap lingering on you, the proximity nearly killing him.

“I never did ask, Roe, where are you from?” You glanced at him with your professional smile, fingers settling over their target in the inside of his elbow.

“Loosiana, Ma’am.” He murmured softly, watching you insert the needle so smoothly he barely felt more than a pinch before his blood began to fill the bottle in your hands.

“Louisiana.” You repeated warmly, eyes flicking between the bottle and his face, listening while monitoring the volume you were collecting. “Famous for Mardi Gras, yes?”

He nodded quickly. “Tha’s righ’, yes.”

“A lot warmer than England, hmm?” You chuckled and shook your head.

“Did ya get you’ jacket back?” He tilted his head. “Thank ya fo’ returnin’ ma belt.”

“I did, yes. And again, it was the least I could do.” Your eyes crinkled at the corners as you smiled this time, his heart swelling as he was becoming more skilled at discerning your real versus polite expressions. You pressed a piece of gauze over the needle before pulling it from his arm, the bottle now filled with the crimson fluid from his veins. “Could you apply pressure to that for me please?”

He nodded, fingertips brushing against yours as he took over, a jolt of electricity sizzling through him. Your eyes met his briefly before you turned back to the task at hand, and he could not help but wonder if you had felt it too. As you lay your fingers over his to lift the gauze and take a peek at the puncture in his skin, Eugene bit the inside of his cheek trying to maintain his composure. Replacing it with an adhesive bandage, you handed him a cookie to eat as you jotted down his information on the label on the bottle.

“Thank you aga–” Your gratitude was cut short by a loud crash over by the nurses’ station that had Eugene quickly on his feet though he noticed you barely reacted. “Sorry about that.” You sighed and urged him to sit back down with the gentle pressure of your palm on his shoulder. “I keep trying to fix that darn shelf, but the screws won’t stay in the wall.”

“Sorry!” Called a timid voice Eugene recognized as Barbara from last Friday’s dance and he looked up to you.

“I’d be happy ta take a look at it fo’ ya.”

You eyed him a moment, clearly weighing your desire to impose on him further. “Eat your cookie and then we’ll talk.” You ultimately said and he nearly inhaled the thing.

“I like fixin’ things.” He murmured once he’d swallowed, rolling down his sleeve and following you over to inspect the carnage Barbara had unleashed.

You helped her stack the last of the clipboards and manuals that were scattered across the floor onto the edge of the desk as Eugene looked over the shelf before eyeing the screws and finally the holes in the wall.

“You’ screws are stripped. Needs some new ones an’ maybe a few anchors.” He added as he eyed the weight of what you intended to store up there.

You worried your lip between your teeth for a moment before grabbing a key from the desk. “Maintenance room is this way, shall we see if they have what we need?”

He followed you down the hall and around the corner to a room that was no more than a glorified cupboard. You pulled the cord on the lightbulb dangling from the ceiling and he began rooting around, collecting tools in an empty toolbox before nodding to you to signal that he’d secured everything necessary.

“Don’t carry that with the arm I just took blood from please.” You reminded gently and he nodded again, walking back with you. “How can I help?” You tilted your head, nurse’s cap barely hanging on by the pins in your hair, presenting quite possibly the most adorable sight Eugene had ever seen.

“Could you an’ Miss Barbara hold tha shelf up fo’ me, please? Show me where ya’d like it?” He set the toolbox on the ground, grabbing the pencil he’d prepared as the pair of you positioned the shelf on the wall. He made a series of marks beneath it where he would drill new holes and marked the end placements. “Thank ya both, kindly.” He nodded and you set it down with a smile.

The sound of the door opening signalled the arrival of the doctor to do his midday rounds and you glanced at him, looking ready to apologize but he shook his head. “Don’ worry ‘bout me, you’ workin’. I’ll get this fixed an’ get outta you’ hair.”

“Thank you, Roe.” You nodded warmly before grabbing the clipboards from the desk and hurrying over with Barbara in tow.

Eugene did a thorough job of re-installing that shelf for you – putting new holes in the studs with the hand drill before tapping in a set of anchors to ensure it would never let you down again. It may have taken him a little longer than necessary due to the numerous glances he stole at you over his shoulder, but when his eyes met yours around the fifth glance, he turned back to his work quickly, cheeks burning, and did not risk another.

Once he was satisfied in the shelf’s structural stability, he began to place the manuals back onto it, hazarding a guess that you would want them in alphabetical order, glancing at you as you stashed the clipboards – now neatly back in their rack – beside them, rounds clearly complete.

“This looks amazing, Roe, I am once again in your debt.”

“It should hold alrigh’, even if ya get mo’e manuals.” He nodded humbly. “It was ma pleasu’e.”

“Well, I assure you we are extremely grateful.” You nodded firmly and he was unable to stop the slight smile that snuck onto his lips, watching as your own grew brightly in return. “Now I’m sure there’s somewhere you’d much rather spend your days off than our boring little hospital.”

He swallowed tightly, quite convinced that was utterly untrue but was unable to verbally disagree. “I’ll leave ya to it then, Ma’am.” He nodded, putting the tools away before shrugging into his uniform jacket once more and heading out into the drizzly afternoon.

It became a habit, spending his Saturdays at your hospital, fixing up little things that were broken but not priorities for the regular handyman. Donating blood every few weeks when you’d let him. It was, of course, all a thinly veiled excuse to see you – not that he would ever reveal that to you. As winter melted into spring, training and preparation for what was to come only intensified, and the potential outcomes remained at the forefront of his mind. If he were to speak honestly, Eugene, like many men, did not expect to survive the assault on France. Hitler had been there too long, had had too much time to get dug in snug as a tick. What they were planning to attempt was nearly impossible – just like his chances of survival.

You deserved better than that. Better than to open your heart to a man like him, if you even cared to, only to have him wiped from the earth by some piece of artillery or some such horrific ending. Eugene had a sense you’d seen enough horror first-hand in North Africa and he wanted no part in inflicting more upon you. So, he remained cordial, friendly, holding his breath and biting his tongue when your hands would brush, when you’d gently fix his tie after he’d gotten it crooked under the sink and when you’d swipe the sawdust from his shoulders before he put his uniform jacket back on.

The domesticity of your care and concern for him made his heart ache something fierce but he bore it stoically, silently, repeatedly like some kind of martyr. A smarter man might have stayed away but Eugene needed those few hours with you every week as badly as he needed the comforting nicotine of his Lucky Strikes. The news that they were shipping out to Upottery in late May was thus a rude reminder that his time, his life, was no longer his own.

The entire time he was packing, Eugene debated with himself before ultimately deciding to jot off a quick note of apology explaining his absence for that coming weekend and wishing you well until ‘next time.’ What a terrible expression it was. Forcing himself to take it to the post office, he sent it to the hospital where you worked before boarding the transit truck to move out. The days passed in almost a blur, the frenetic pace of preparation and practice jumps all leading up to the inevitable.

Eugene was dressed in full gear, having just secured his leg bag when he heard Vest call out his name, waving a letter addressed to him. Settling back down on the tarmac to open it, his brows furrowed in confusion at the unfamiliar handwriting.

Eugene was so taken aback he nearly missed Meehan’s announcement that the jump was off due to bad weather that night, spending several hours re-reading your letter, thinking about the things he wished to write to you in reply. Vowing to put them on paper if he ever saw the end of this thing. By the time he made it back to Aldbourne in July, he made a visit to the hospital where you had been stationed only to be informed by Barbara that you’d left for France with the 47th Field Hospital five days earlier.

He swallowed his bitter chuckle while Barbara kindly scrawled your post address now that you were deployed. “If you’d like to write to her.” She murmured timidly and he took it with a soft thanks before heading back to his billet.

It made perfect sense that you had been sent to France; nurses with field experience were hard to come by and you were obviously too talented to loiter in England. Thus, he had taken the time to reply to you, a proper letter this time, though still withholding his true feelings now that his eyes were well and truly opened to the rapidity with which a man’s fortunes could change.

 Mail was slow, your replies taking a frustrating amount of time to reach him, and Eugene was certain you felt the same, especially as it became increasingly apparent that your paths through Europe were remarkably similar and yet did not cross again. Not until Easter Sunday of 1945.

2nd Battalion had left Belgium that morning, crossing the border into Germany in the grey light of dawn. It had been deeply unsettling to pass so close by their former positions in Bastogne, Foy, and Rachamps the day before. Memories, thick as winter fog, had put a damper on the mood of excitement amongst the men at being on the move again, a hush that persisted into the morning. It was a quiet that allowed them all to hear the frantic honking of a jeep horn, many of them, including Eugene, sitting higher in their transports to see a vehicle painted with the Geneva cross pull up beside that occupied by Winters, Nixon, Speirs and Welsh, bringing the entire convoy to a halt.

Craning his neck, Eugene strained to hear the conversation, but his attempts were futile as they were simply too far away. His brow furrowed as the rest of the batallion’s Lieutenants were called up by Speirs, a map was then unfurled on the hood of the jeep, intense conversation occurring amongst the huddled officers. Like some kind of silent movie without the title cards.

“What the hell do you think that’s all about?” Heffron griped beside him, and Eugene shook his head, completely at a loss.

It wasn’t until Lipton returned to the back of their transport, hauled up with the assistance of Luz’s friendly hand, that Eugene understood the gravity of the situation.

“Hospital convoy has gone missing, boys. Left Aachen over four hours ago and should have arrived in Juchen by now. There’s no trace of them.” He began putting on his gear, a silent signal for everyone to do the same.

“Nobody just vanishes in Germany, Lieutenant.” Heffron muttered grimly, securing his webbing.

“Major Winters’ thoughts exactly. We have eleven nurses and four ambulances unaccounted for somewhere between here and Juchen. So, we’re going to find ‘em.”

“What hospital, sir?” Eugene piped up as he secured his satchel around his body, the men glancing at him, reminding him that he rarely spoke.

“Uh, the 47th Field Hospital I think, Doc.” Lipton replied before getting the men off the truck to begin combing the roadside for clues.

The 47th Field Hospital. Your 47th. He stood rooted to the spot, blind to all that moved in front of him, sound muffled as he felt like the only thing he could be sure of – your safety – came crashing down around him.

“Hey Doc, you coming or what?” Heffron called up to him and Eugene blinked rapidly before hopping out of the back of the transport to follow quickly.

Eleven nurses missing. Field Hospitals had roughly eighteen nurses, if fully staffed, meaning there was more than a fifty-fifty chance you were among the missing. He shoved his balled fists into his pockets and began searching. Searching for what, he had no idea. The infuriating feeling of helplessness rose within him like the tide, relentless and uncontrollable.

It took a further three hours of driving, stopping, searching, until finally a farmer reported having heard machine gun fire earlier that morning near Titz. A yawning pit of dread opened deep within his stomach as all manner of possible scenarios played out in his mind. The three companies split up then, with Easy heading into the town of Titz while Dog continued on the road to Juchen and Fox turned towards Gevelsdorf.

He was not able to lay eyes upon you for another two hours, and to find you soaked in blood had sent him immediately into a frenzied state of triage, desperate to keep you alive after finding you at last. Calmed only by the proof that you were unhurt, at the reasonable explanation for the state of your clothes lying dead behind him, Eugene had never been more annoyed with Webster and Liebgott than when they had interrupted his chance to speak with you.

The rest of 2nd Battalion arrived, taking over the building for the night and securing the prisoners until MPs could arrive the next day to take them to a nearby prison camp. Winters had ensured a wing was reserved exclusively for the nurses, though you had assured him a guard would not be necessary. Eugene had offered himself and the other Battalion medics to help with the schedule you were drawing up to watch over the patients, but you politely refused, insisting he had done enough. Eugene certainly did not feel that way.

Finding himself unable to sleep that night, he slipped out of the room he shared with Spina, Heffron, and Ramirez, making his way down to the makeshift treatment space you had set up to see if he could be of any use. He stopped at top of the stairs as he nearly ran into you, making your way up to the nurses’ wing with your wet field jacket in your hands.

“Roe!” You breathed, startled, before smiling at him tiredly. “Can’t sleep?”

He shook his head. “Ya neithah?”

“Wanted to try and get this somewhat clean for tomorrow.” You murmured, gesturing to your jacket before glancing at him. “But no, not really.” You admitted softly.

He motioned with his head for you to follow him to sit on the ledge beneath a large bay window opposite the staircase. You draped your damp jacket over the back of a wooden chair that had seen better days, turning to look out over the landscape as raindrops began to patter against the glass. He slid a cigarette from the pack in his breast pocket, offering it you and only once you had declined with a shake of your head and kind smile, lit it for himself.

“Nine hours isn’t a long time considering the years I’ve spent away from home.” Your hushed voice, a continuation of your conversation from hours previous, broke through the sound of the rain hitting the windowpane.

Eugene exhaled slowly, smoke curling from his lips. “It only takes seconds ta die…”

You eyed him sharply in the dim light, shaking your head. “You of all people know how little control we have over that.”

Swallowing tightly, as you did have a point, he nodded. “Sorry Ma’am.”

You huffed a little. “Eugene, every time you call me Ma’am I feel like my mother.”

“But ya outrank me, even mo’e so now 1st Lieutenan’.” His nose crinkled in confusion.

You hummed noncommittally, an uneasy silence falling over the pair of you as Eugene finished his cigarette, stubbing it out against the windowsill behind him. Neither of you seemed certain of what to say or do next. Of what you were anymore – no longer just acquaintances, colleagues, or pen pals. Despite his best efforts, Eugene was terrifyingly convinced you were a great deal more.

“What’s something you wish you had done before you came over here?” Your voice broke through his thoughts, and he inhaled sharply before giving you his answer without hesitation.

“Shoulda asked ya ta dance tha’ nigh’.”

He heard your breath leave your lips with a shudder, watching you stand with the sinking feeling that he’d misjudged the entirety of your relationship. It was only when you turned back to him with your hand outstretched that he remembered how to breathe.

“Dance with me now, Eugene.”

His eyes widened, confusion surely evident on his face even as he set his worn and battered hand in yours. “But there’s no music.”

Your fingers closed around his, tugging him to his feet as you began to hum that Vera Lynn song, bringing a smile to his face as he set his other hand on your waist to begin dancing with you in earnest. Your fingers laced through his, a shiver running through him as you wrapped your arm around his shoulder before laying your head against his collarbone.

“Cold?” You whispered and he shook his head.

“It’s nice.” He replied as you started humming again, the repetitive nature of the song making him grin slightly. “Finally got ta dance in you’ comba’ boots.” He murmured, discreetly inhaling the scent of you.

You giggled softly against him, leaning back to look over his features in the low light. “Why didn’t you ask me to dance, Eugene?”

He swallowed roughly. “Ya looked tired, Ma’am. Didn’t want ta make ya suffah any mo’e.”

“Dancing with you is not a hardship.” You whispered, the pair of you still moving to the ghost of the song in the now silent hallway. “I would have said yes with one of those smiles you like.”

He laugh softly, squeezing your hand slightly. “I was worried, too. Worried I’d do somethin’ stupid like make ya care ‘bout me an’ then get myself killed. But then I thought I’d lost ya today…did lose ya fo’ nine hou’s…” His throat clenched with emotion, sealing off his ability to say anything further.

Your feet came to a stop as you eyed him intensely. “Eugene Roe, you have no control over that either.” You admonished gently. “I do care about you, whether you like it or not.”

The sound of his heart frantically pumping blood through his body filled his ears as he stared at you in wonder, awestruck by your fierce determination to bear affection for him despite the risks.

“M..may I…” He struggled to speak through the overwhelming adoration he felt for you, and you sighed fondly, leaning in to press your lips to his.

His grip tightened on your waist as his eyes fluttered shut, your soft mouth feeling like the finest silk brushing against his. He sighed dreamily as your fingers abandoned his shoulder to wend their way into his hair, drawing him tighter to you. He indulged in the impulse to slide his hand up your spine to rest between your shoulder blades, the feeling of your back arching in response headier than any liquor he’d ever tasted.

Your fingers gently unlaced from his, hand shifting to cup his jaw as you pulled back to press featherlight kisses across his brow and down his nose. “You didn’t lose me, Eugene.” You sighed against his skin, lips traveling across his left cheek. “I’m just fine.”

As you made your way along his jaw, he turned his head to kiss you fiercely, tongue darting past your startled lips to communicate all the things he could not seem to be able to say, holding your body so tightly against his as though he wished he could absorb you into his very being. You clung to him, matching the ferocity of his embrace with a reassuring tenderness of your own that had him melting against you, face burrowing against your neck.

“Thank ya, Ma’am.” He sighed with a bone deep weariness and felt your body shake against his as you laughed softly.

“Call me something better, Eugene.” You chided sweetly, kissing his temple. “Especially if you’re going to kiss me like that.”

He smirked before pressing his lips to the column of your throat, trailing kisses up towards your jaw, reveling in the way your breath hitched in your throat in response. “Alrigh’ cher.” He smiled warmly before kissing you gently.

“Cher.” You repeated softly once he released your lips.

“Cajun for darlin’.”

He watched your teeth sink into your lower lip, a grin stretching over your face as you looked to him through your lashes making the muscles of his abdomen clench.

“That will do quite nicely, Eugene.” You sighed before your fingers tightened in his hair, pulling him in to kiss him deeply.

You were both short of breath by the time you pulled back, hand caressing his face as your features contracted apologetically. “I should go before someone finds us.”

Eugene nodded begrudgingly as you were once again speaking the truth. “Goodnigh’, cher.” He said softly, loosening his hold on you.

“We’ll meet again, Eugene.” You smiled, eyes twinkling with mirth in the not-so-dark hallway as the light of pre-dawn began to seep through the tracks of rain cascading down the window, and his eyes widened as he realized that was the name of that damn song.

“You’d bettah not be covered in blood nex’ time, cher.” He admonished playfully, freshly addicted to the way your lips ticked up at the corners every time he said it.

“Likewise, Eugene.” You laughed and blew him a kiss before grabbing your surely still-damp field jacket, walking backwards as far as you could until you absolutely had to turn around.

He stood on the porch the next morning, hiding from the rain as he watched you load the nurses in your charge into newly arrived ambulances to complete your journey to the field hospital in Juchen. He barely looked up as he heard the scuff of jump boots on the worn brick beside him, Heffron leaning against the wall to light a cigarette, trying to soak in every last moment of your presence before you were inevitably parted once again. It was a great comfort to know you’d be just twenty-five kilometres behind him, perhaps a sign of kinder times ahead.

“So, you get your hands on some tits in Titz?” Heffron asked with a sly grin, making Eugene turn to him sharply.

“Heffron, watch you’ damn mouth.” He snapped at him brusquely, making the redhead’s eyes widen.

“Sheesh, Doc, she must be somethin’ special. Sorry.” He squawked and pointed at the road. “She’s looking this way.”

Eugene looked back quickly to see you, drenched by rain, waving at him with a bright smile he could still see despite your helmet, and he waved back, cheeks aching a little as his expression automatically mirrored yours.

“You’d bettah keep this to you’self, Heffron.” Eugene rounded on him with a serious look that he hoped was intimidating as soon as you pulled the backdoor of the vehicle shut behind you.

“Your secret is safe with me, lover boy.” Heffron winked, and Eugene did not believe him for a second.

-------------------------

Read the Sequel - Born To Be Yours

Band of Brothers Masterlist

Tag list: @bcon24 , @ronsparky, @fuckoffthanos