#who’s making it to the next round!! who’s going home!! who’s getting ghosted!!

[nicverse]

i can't lose you

maybe being a journalist is less dangerous than being a vigilante, but that doesn't stop jason from worrying about you.

jason todd x journalist!reader

warnings: small mentions of violence, bombs and wounds. flush

ノㅤㅤ𓈒ㅤㅤ⊹ㅤㅤㅤㅤׅㅤㅤ✩ㅤㅤ˚ ♡

ㅤׅ ㅤㅤㅤ𝅄ㅤㅤ꒪ㅤㅤ꒱

Police lights and sirens decorated the city, as always. The sound of your fingers against the keyboard filled your living room, tired eyes fixed on the screen as your next work started making some sense now. There had been a few bomb attacks in the city, the police weren’t able to notice the pattern yet, but you already did. So, naturally, you spent the last few hours typing on your laptop, trying to connect everything before something worse happened. 

Writing for the Gotham Gazette was your weapon, your power— you didn’t go to fight the criminals on the street every night, but you discovered their secrets instead, publishing them to the people so they would know who were the ones that provoked so much damage and fear to the city. It certainly gave you a sense of satisfaction to know that you were not standing idly by in the face of crime. 

But, god, it did tire you out sometimes. With countless nights of sleep deprivation and caffeine, you haven’t visited your family in a long time—and let’s not talk about vacation. Now, even the crime in Gotham knew your name very well, and it was a matter of time before they started to act against your sense of justice. You wanted to say you were afraid, but you would rather be persecuted for speaking the truth than remain silent all your life. 

Your body needed rest and you ignored it as much as you could yet it was harder to stay awake when your eyelids closed on their own. Fingertips got lazier with each type and without noticing, your head fell on top of your laptop as you dozed off. It wasn’t the first time it happened, so you would wake up in the morning, ready for another round of exhausting investigation.

But that used to happen when you had no one to look after you; until you met Jason Todd. 

His body stepped into your apartment. You wouldn't be able to notice him even if you were awake, he always moved so slowly, like a ghost tracing its path on Earth. The first thing his eyes looked at was your body sprawled on your desk in front of your laptop. Jason walked slowly towards you, taking off his mask, blue eyes shined with adoration as he observed your slightly opened lips, hair fixed in a messy ponytail that you probably did unconsciously. 

He chuckled, you always scolded him for taking so little care about his well-being, yet you did the same with yourself. His fingers fixed your hair behind your ear, taking a deeper look at your face. Jason always thought you were pretty. From the first time he met you, he hadn’t been able to get you out of his mind, and it scared him. He never liked having that kind of vulnerability, the kind of vulnerability that would have him tearing his heart out of his chest if you simply asked him to.

You were a weakness to him, and it was dangerous because he would burn the whole world down to save you. 

He looked at your investigation on the screen, reading what you had been writing. If there was any sign that this thing was dangerous to you, he would deal with it quickly. 

He could be a deadly person in the streets, but he was always so tender with you. His fists were made to punch, to kill, but every single drop of blood that lingered in his mind disappeared when he entered the warmth of your home.  So there he was, taking your soft body in his arms and carefully placing it in your bed as he touched your body so softly like you were a precious broken crystal, covering you with a blanket. His heart warmed with the sight of you. 

You took his wrist, lazily opening your eyes as your lips greeted him with a smile that he returned. Your fingers burned against his skin, not in a way that made him flinch, but in a way that turned him a mess, wanting nothing more than to melt his body into yours. 

Did you know how much you made him feel? 

“Hey” You said, your voice still sleepy and tired “Hey” Jason responded, sitting next to your body. You looked at him, his blue eyes pinned in yours with longing, like a tired puppy who just wanted a bit of affection. Without speaking a word, you tapped the side of the bed and invited him to rest. Jason took off his boots and curled up next to you, your fingers tangling in his hair as his head rested on your chest. He loved these moments when nothing existed but you and him in the silence of your room. 

He felt the need to say something that had been on his mind for some time. Although your job was the reason the two of you met, he didn't like it very much, it was too risky for you. People started to mutter your name in the darker alleys of the streets, angry whispers of the worst in Gotham, and how you started to be a complication thanks to your articles about the crime in the city. He knew what they meant, and every day felt terrified of something happening to you and he wasn’t there to protect you. Yes, he would happily die in your arms, but he couldn't bear the thought of seeing the slightest scratch on your skin. 

“Your job is too dangerous” he murmured and you furrowed your brows at his affirmation. “I’m not the one running every rooftop of this city while shooting criminals at night.”

He leaned in his elbows to look at you, trapping your body between his and the bed. He had the kind of serious look that made you listen with attention “Those guys don’t know my real name. And even if they did come after me, I can fight back. You can’t.” Jason spoke, his tone a little bit more serious than usual. 

You knew he had a point, you were a writer, not a fighter, but that didn’t make you completely helpless. You grew up in Gotham too, you learned how to defend yourself before high school. 

But that wasn’t enough for Jason. As you said, he was the one who fought those criminals every night, so he knew how much of a threat they could be to you. Yes, he could risk his life every now and then, but he would never let you do that. Never. 

You sat in front of him, looking directly into his eyes. You would have been upset by his comment if your heart hadn't been touched by his desire to protect you. Jason was a dangerous man, and you knew that perfectly well, but deep down he was a man you had grown to love too much—more than you would like to admit. Sometimes, you felt like one of the few things keeping him sane. 

And you were right. 

“Jason, I won’t stop doing my job,” you said calmly. Your fingers searched for his warmth, slowly crawling towards each other for comfort, intertwining as a wave of emotion washed over your mind. He was close, so close that it was intoxicating. “I know I can’t stop you from worrying about me but… That’s kind of the way I feel about the things you do too.” With a shaky voice, you continued, turning to face Jason instead of looking at your hands tied together.

And it was true, you thought about him all the time, and you worried all the time too, afraid that one night he wouldn't be able to reach your window, his wounded body would be lying flat in an alley, and you wouldn't be there to heal him, maybe one day he will step out of your door to never be seen again. The thought terrified your mind, creeping into your worst nightmares. 

“I know I can’t convince you to leave it,” Jason looked at your intertwined fingers, and a hint of a smile appeared on his lips. “just… promise to be careful, alright? I can’t be saving your ass every day” he chuckled, and you laughed too, rolling your eyes. 

“One day I’ll be saving your ass too, Jason,” you replied, knowing that if you ever saved him, you would never let him forget it. 

What you didn't know was that you had already saved him so many times with your love, and your words, holding the fallen pieces of his being with your loving arms and keeping them together when he needed it most. 

He took your chin, tilting it upwards so you could see his face, gently holding you. His eyes were pinned in yours, filled with something you couldn’t quite name yet. His hands were rough but hot against your skin, calloused fingers reaching out to touch the forbidden skin of an angel they desired. Jason leaned your head closer to his lips, leaving a soft kiss on your forehead. 

"Let's get some sleep, okay? Can't save the world if you keep like this" his voice murmured against your skin, taking in your scent and the softness or your hair.

You nodded, too flustered to even speak as you took your usual side of the bed. He got up to go to your couch, but you called him, signalling to the empty spot beside you. Jason couldn't have been happier and rushed to rest his body against yours.

Gently you moved closer to his body, smiling warmly as you opened one of your arms for him to come closer. Jason accepted and wrapped himself around your body, blending into each other like a perfect jigsaw puzzle, as if they were made for one another.

Perhaps both of your jobs were dangerous. But that would never stop you from coming home to each other every night.

sorry, but I'm such a fool for x and journalist!reader, especially with jason todd

𖥔 ࣪ ˖    ꒱

another one from my fic (which i haven't posted yet, but I will, promise) I love them so much

just kiss already

i'm also accepting requests! please send them, I'd love to write them

this was a little bit longer than usual, but I think I like it.

[1-800-i-ship-it]

Me trying to convey that we would be so good together to my future employer through my cover letters like I know you want to hire me so bad pls hiring manager (affectionate) like yeah actually let’s connect on LinkedIn I think we’re a good match !! Dates from 9-5, 5 days a week!! What a good deal!! If I could just have a nice paycheck and a side of employee benefits?? 401k match pretty please? Look at our email exchanges we have so much chemistry now you wouldn’t break my poor little heart would you!! Just so in love with your company’s vision and everything I just think it would be so sexy if we worked together <3

[cinnammonfairy]

⌗ hybrids – f! cat x doberman ghost! + heat + virginity loss + squirting + implied pregnancy/breeding ⋆˙⟡

where you go into heat, and your not-so-new friend simon helps you.

when price finally brought simon home, you did not take it all too kindly. only familiar with the presence of price and few other hybrids (being a house cat and all, always preferring to stay home), you grew uptight at the new imposing presence at your home. you knew price was only trying to look out for you by gifting you a companion, someone you could cling to when he was away, yet he also knew how shy you were too which could translate to unwelcoming behaviour towards those who are unacquainted with you.

simon having been briefed by price of your shy tendencies played along, preferring to wait until you grew accustomed to his presence around the house. which admittedly took... quite a while. price having been home for the start of simon's stay to get you on friendly terms did little to help, only making you ever so clingier.

when it came to just the both of you within the confines of your home, you avoided him with an admirable amount of effort. he knew it wasn't that you disliked him, you just haven't gotten to know him and how could you when you'd scramble if he walked into a room you were currently in? or if he'd be leaning on the doorframe of your shared bathroom waiting for you to finish your lengthy baths, the scent of your bathbomb wafting through the crack of the doorway your humming gleefully at the warmth of the water clear to his impeccable hearing, doberman hybrid and all does little to quell his ever growing fascination in you.

the week leading up to your heat (not that he knew), was filled with uncommon behaviour from you, once an early riser now you woke later into the day, your sweet scent heightened keeping him alert of your whereabouts throughout the house. your usually energetic self, that always found a way to keep busy around the house also grew tired easier, which was how he found you sprawled out on the couch late at night, a show you were keen on running on the tv. gathering your weak form in his arms, he lifted you up bridal style making sure to cradle your head in his arm.

your eyes opened briefly, jolting awake as you realized who was currently holding you and walking you towards your bedroom, before you gave in to the lethargy that seemed to engulf your body. letting him carry you up the stairs, his scent overwhelming your senses leaving your body the slightest bit feverish.

"i don't feel so good." your words coming out barely more than a whisper into the chilly night air, lights dimmed out due to the hour.

"i can see that, let me take care of you yeah? " his arms wrapping tighter around your form as he rounds the corner to your bedroom, tucking you in, and closing the door softly behind him before placing a call to price.

"...the date of her heats are usually irregular, but she's probably going into one soon." price's voice crackles through the phone speaker, as simon's brow furrows.

"what can i do to help her?" simon's reply earns a small huff from price, who's answer has simon's cock growing hard in his trousers imagining you begging for him.

"you can help her but only if she asks, she probably will though. god knows you feel much better than her dildo does."

the next morning he was greeted with the overwhelming scent of your slick, your warm body atop him, bare tits pressed against his chest, his blanket pushed aside so your wet little pussy could rub on his still covered hard on. every pass of his cock spreading open your pretty pussy, his tip catching onto your clit creating pleasurable friction.

"what's all this about angel? where did my shy girl go hm?"

"m' sorry si, need you..." his hands go to guiding your hips, as they grew sloppier. your wetness creating a patch on his boxers outlining his hard cock.

"s' alright pretty, i've got you." tipping your chin up to meet his gaze as he connects your lips to his, softly pecking them as a form of reassurance. price said to take things slow and he promised to try, you had no qualms kissing him back so sweetly as he cradled your cheek in his palm. with your pussy still rubbing on his cock, he moved you to lay below him lifting his body enough to peel his boxers off.

spreading your legs to expose your wet cunt, little hole twitching and leaking slick. your little clit glistening in the early morning sunrise, as he circles it softly with the head of his cock, dragging it down to your pool of slick and up to nudge against your clit, swiping it back and forth as you writhed on the bed moaning for him to,

"put it in now please si."

"so wet angel, i could just slip right in yeah?"

"'mhm! s' wet for you."

"such a good girl, so pretty for like this for me."

he positions the head of his cock on your hole, the both of you gasping as it enters. all the while rubbing your clit softly with his thumb, pressing soft kisses to your forehead, cheeks and lips. your pussy halfway enveloping his fat cock as your legs tremble softly, your hole clenching rhythmically at his intrusion. your hands go to his biceps as you feel the knot in your stomach growing ever so tighter, just from him putting his cock in. you've had a dildo and a couple pleasurable vibrators before to help you through your heat but never an actual cock, the feeling of his big cock entering your practically virgin hole was too much to bear, even more so as he rubbed at your clit so sweetly to build enough pleasure and wetness to take his cock. before you knew it, you were cumming hard on his cock a soft gasp left you as he worked you through your strong orgasm, clenching hard on his fat cock.

"so pretty... that was a nice one hm lovie, that feel good for your little pussy sweetheart yeah? y' love my fat cock stretching out your hole so much you can't help it huh."

"s' too big si..." you sobbed out as his fingers kept strumming your clit, prolonging your orgasm.

"you're taking it so well though sweetheart, i'm almost there baby. you can cum as much as you want angel."

your orgasm which left you wetter than before made it easier for him to ease his cock inside, groaning at your warmth as he bottomed out. he zoned in on where your eyes were currently resting, the filthy sight of your pussy plugged full of his cock as he took a testing shallow thrust, a mewl leaving your lips.

"your pussy's so pretty full of my cock sweetheart, you're taking it so well, 'm so proud baby."

"what do you say sweetheart?" he says, pulling his cock out halfway, watching as his cock slips out coated in your slick and cum.

"thank you si-i!" he slammed his hips once, again filling your pussy up full and catching you off guard.

his thrusts left you breathless as you looked into his eyes, pleading for anything and everything at all once. your current state of heat left your cheeks perpetually flushed which he found charming, your eyes fluttering, for someone who was practically begging to be fucked just this morning, he loved your sweet, shy and soft little mewls. slotting your lips together to meet for a kiss, one that you so kindly and eagerly return, he knows he's found your spot as a sweet little gasp leaves your lips. he rests his forehead to yours as you lock your feet on his back, your pussy clenching erratically as a telltale sign that you were approaching your orgasm.

"wanna cum si!"

"go ahead baby."

pulling out most of the way, he thrusts in to be met by a spurt of clear liquid splashing and splattering onto your stomach, his pelvis and abs. every time he pulls out the slightest bit to slam his cock back in to your tight squirting heat, he earns another splash of clear liquid that's prompted by his thrusts. the hot sight of you squirting uncontrollably whilst crying softly on his cock prompts his own orgasm, and pumping his load into you.

"made such a cute mess on my cock baby hm? my shy angel's a squirter huh?" he says as he pulls his cock out fully, rubbing his cock fast over your clit to be met by more messy squirts, his thick load now seeping out of your little hole.

"m s-sorry si, it's embarrasing." you choke out amidst sobs where he gathers you in his arms, sitting up and places you on top of him. opening your legs to scoop up his leaking cum and shoving back into your hole, which makes you squeal.

"no need to be sorry sweetheart, 'm so glad i made you feel so good."

you hid your face in his neck as you sunk back down on his hard cock, seeing his cum leaking out of your pussy was an extremely erotic sight to him. your heat making you insatiable for the need of another orgasm.

"go ahead sweet girl, ride me baby, use me all you want."

and you do, if it wasn't evident enough with the protruding bump on your belly with a possessive hand resting over it upon price's return wasn't clear enough, you were having simon's pups.

☆ hi omg um this was just like something i spewed out from my brain deliriously over the course of a couple midnights i acc kinda wanna continue it or make a couple parts of it ... haven't rlly made an intro post but i'm planning to soon .ᐟ ♡ also reqs are open but i'm having midterms rn so if you do plan to leave anything on there might not get around to it for a while :(

ᡣ𐭩 header by cafekitsune .

[disgustingtwitches]

MDNI

Working at a restaurant with 141! (pt.2)

As the weeks went on, Gaz and Soap would constantly try to pull you into the walk-in. But Simon's stare made you stop dead in your tracks every time. You've resorted to going over to their place, it's always a surprise who's gonna end up on top of who. During breaks between rounds, you'll catch up on a show you were all watching or playing video games and eating snacks. It's light, fun, young, energetic.

"The boys keeping you satisfied?"

Price asks during one of your smoke breaks, he's leaning against the railing again. Your eyes dart to the floor, embarrassed.

"I could take proper care of you."

The words drip from his mouth and run up your legs, making you squirm. He chuckles, a deep rumble from his broad chest.

"I'll pick you up 7 tonight."

Flicks the butt of his cigar onto the wet cement before walking back into the kitchen. Your hand shakes as you finish your cigarette.

The outing was nice, he took you out on a real date. You wore a tasteful dress that he was obsessed with the moment he saw you in it.

Made you order something expensive from the menu.

"Gotta keep you well fed, hm?"

You couldn't argue with him, he held an air of authority even outside of the kitchen. Conversation was pleasant, he kept it appropriate. Actually, that whole time he was an absolute gentleman. Walked you up to your flat. You gave him an anxious kiss that made him laugh softly and you quickly slipped into your studio. You pressed your back to the door, heart pounding. You squinted through the peephole and watched as he turned around, walking away. As soon as you swung your door open, he was stepping inside your place and scooping you up. He gripped your ass while holding you up, his hands positioned in a way that allowed him to rub your folds through the thin fabric of your dress.

"Already wet? Knew you'd be a good girl for me."

You melted in his arms at those words. Gently laid you right on the bed, pulling back to slip off your heels and left kisses from your ankle to inner thigh. He moaned when you giggled from his beard brushing against your soft thighs.

"Fuckin dogs, markin you up like your theirs."

His lips grazed over the hickeys Gaz and Soap left on your hips and thighs. He pulled the dress up and over your shoulders.

"Those sexy fuckin eyes of yours, Christ."

He kneeled over you, taking you in. Your moans, touch, smell, all that was left was your taste. He sunk back down between your legs and had you coming faster and harder than Soap or Gaz. He was down there for hours, only coming up to briefly cram his thick dick into your tight hole just long enough to leave you being for more when he pulled out. So much restraint he had. Only reason he finally finished was because he had to get up early tomorrow. Painted your sore walls with thick ropes of his spend,

"G'na take it all like a good girl, yeah?"

He held your face to muffle your moans with his mouth while he finished pumping into you. Wouldn't even clean you up, just gently pushed whatever leaked out of you back inside. Then he held you close and fell asleep, effectively trapping you in his arms. He ends up driving you to work the next day, taking you in early so he can prep with Ghost. Simon seems more grumpy than usual (it's because he's the one who's supposed to drive you to work, creature of habit he is).

"I'll let you pick her up next time. Don't get mad at me for being a gentleman."

Price sighs while portioning out meat. You swear you see Simon huff.

The drive home was silent as usual, but there was a tension that wasn't present before. Sure, there's been an uneasy or awkward air in the car before, but this was different. You needed it to stop being quiet.

"...sorry for not telling you about John taking me today."

You sat on your hands, staring at the veiny hand gripping the gear lever.

"S'alright, he told me."

His tone was unreadable as ever. He parked in front of your building, looking at you with those dark, intense eyes. You shifted uncomfortably, about to open your mouth to say something.

"G'night."

He interrupted, you nod and step out of his car to your door. You fumble with your keys and turn around to invite him in, he's already locking his car door and headed towards you. Oh fuck.

He doesn't even let you take your shoes off, just flops you onto the edge of the bed and haphazardly pulls down your jeans and underwear, folding you in half.

"Open."

He grunts, shoving two fingers into your mouth, getting them slick with your spit. He roughly fingers your sweet spot until you are overwhelmed with pleasure, then he undoes his pants. You gasp. Literally gasp at the sight of his length.

"That's not going in me."

You blink at him. He looks at you, stroking himself.

"Alright."

He shrugs before slapping his shaft on your wet folds, then rubbing himself against you. He goes at this for what seems like forever, occasionally his tip catches in your entrance before he slides out and continues to grind against you. It's maddening. Finally, you break and beg for him to slide himself in. He does so with no hesitation or concern for your poor walls. Bullies his way inside you until you physically can't take anymore and pounds into you ruthlessly. He covers your mouth with a rough hand while the other toys with your nub. You squeal, yelp, moan. It's all muffled; only to be heard by his ears.

"Atta girl, takin it like a champ."

You were barely keeping it together, each hit to your cervix made you see stars. It hurt. It was heaven. Your eyes rolled back.

"Don't look away from me."

He grabbed your face, making you stare right into his brown eyes. That's what pushed you over the edge, he rode out your orgasm before reaching his. Your heavy breaths filled the room. That's when he finally decides to pull off your shoes and pants. He was surprisingly good at aftercare, made you both some tea (why did he know where everything was?), wiped you down, and put on some cooking competition show. He was into it. Very into it.

"How do you fuck up beurre monté?"

He says to himself, shaking his head while the contestant on TV cried about messing up a sauce. It goes on like this for a while, shitting on chefs choices and mistakes. Your stomach rumbles, he looks at you. Offers to make something. You remember how the food at the restaurant gets sent back. A lot. Decline politely. He walks to the kitchen, rummaging through the fridge and cabinets. You'd say something, but you know you can't stop him. Twenty minutes later he hands you a plate,

"Shakshuka."

It looks...edible. He sits at the end of your bed, eating and watching his show. You take a spoonful into your mouth. Fucking delicious.

"Best I could do with what you had."

He made himself home, slept like he paid the bills, splayed out and snored louder than a Harley. Pinned you right under his arm, mouth right next to your ear. You barely get any sleep.

The next day you drag your feet back and forth from the kitchen.

"Fuckin hell Simon, you kept her up all night?"

John shook his head, burning another steak. Simon grunted, plating the meat and placing it on the window. You served the food to the customer and walked back to the kitchen.

"That's my hoodie."

Soap pointed at Ghost. It was obviously Soap's, they were both well built but Simon's arms and chest stretched the fabric.

"So?"

Simon shrugged, sweeping the floor.

"So? I gave it to her."

"S'fine, she has enough of your shit."

Soap looked at you, betrayed. You shrug, you were too tired to even notice what Simon was wearing.

"Didnae ye notice yer favorite hoodie was gone?"

He looked at you, eyes sad and blindingly blue.

"Give it a rest Johnny."

"'But it's 'er favorite. Right bonnie?"

You nod (you don't have a favorite, but obviously he needs this) and he sighs in relief, smile plastered on his face. Pesters Simon to give him back the hoodie.

"Keep it somewhere safe, aye?"

He hands it to you, holding it like it was a damn fabergé egg.

While Simon and you were walking to his car, Kyle and Johnny run after you, insisting on seeing your place,

"What, only they get to see your flat? It's not fair."

So puerile, Ghost rolled his eyes.

They oohed and aahed at your flat, fawning over your decor. You're thankful for splurging on a king sized mattress. Gaz slept like an angel, but Johnny? Even in his sleep he was restless, kicking and talking. You make a note not to have Ghost and him over at the same time.

Two days later, Johnny almost drops to his knees when he sees Simon in your 'favorite hoodie' again.

[writersdrug]

OOOH bartender Simon when one of the regulars starts making comments about reader at the bar

Yes

Slight nsfw, someone makes derogatory marks about reader

Simon didn't understand why the man chose to be a regular at his bar. He never spoke much to the lad, Mitch, other than the occasional grunt and "'nother round?" Still, the bloke had been coming to his pub every Friday, Saturday, and Sunday night like it was his religion - it very well might've been - spilling his guts over neat whiskey about his failing marriage, his estranged children, and his shitty job. Simon was surprised he managed to keep one, with how much he was drinking on a Sunday night.

"Don't ever get a wife, Simon." Mitch says, fidgeting his empty whiskey glass in his fingers. He'd already come in with a sour expression and droopy eyes - Simon wondered what the topic would be for tonight, but as usual, it steered towards his divorce waiting to happen.

"Already got one." He says, jerking his head to the liquor shelf. "Woodford."

Mitch laughs, letting Ghost take his empty glass and dunk it in the wash basin. "You got anyone waitin' for you after work?"

Ghost clicks his tongue, wiping the condensation off the bar top. "Rather not talk about my personal life 'ere."

"Bah - you need something young n' fresh." Mitch sighs, tapping his fingers against the wood. "Guy like you can't have something too committed, or else your work ethic will suffer."

Ghost grunts as his response. He reminds himself that Mitch was a customer, like everyone else, and he only has to tolerate his yapping for tonight - until next Friday.

Mitch turns his head to look at you, and Simon follows with his eyes: you're standing at a table, bantering with the couple seated there as you take their orders. Hair pulled back into that weird claw clip thingy Simon likes so much, posture relaxed as you leaned on one hip, a soft smile on your face as the couple takes their time placing their orders. He remembers how unfamiliar you were with it all in the beginning, and now it looks like you've been working here for the past ten years. Like you belong in his pub.

"How's she handling the job?" Mitch asks.

Simon shrugs. "Seems t' be managing just fine. Gets away with more shit than I should be allowin' 'er."

Mitch chuckles, looking back at you. "They always do when they look that good." He comments, making Ghost pause. "Price knew what he was doin' hiring her."

He feels his muscles tense subconsciously. "I hired 'er."

Mitch looks back at him, a wicked smile spreading across his face. "Simon, you ol' dog..." he begins, leaning his forearms onto the bartop. "Gotta keep the customers comin' somehow, eh?"

Ghost blinks. "I don't follow." He does; but he's giving Mitch a chance to redeem himself after his insinuation.

"C'mon, was it her face? What she wore to the interview? Did Johhny-boy see her and beg you to hire her?" He leans in towards Simon, who obliges and meets him halfway, just to hear what else the prick will say, so he knows how much damage he can justify.

"I'm telling you - the only reason she probably took the job was, well.." he raises and eyebrow.

Simon waits. "Hmm?"

"You know - three big guys like you lot - not to mention that old brewmaster assistant, Garrick, I know he frequents here... well, any desperate thing like her would be throwing themselves at the opportunity."

He's livid. "Wha' opportunity?"

"Gettin hit from all sides, if you catch my drift."

Ghost nods slowly, biting the inside of his cheek until he tastes blood. He wants to punch a hole through Mitch's chest, but two patrons roughhoused in one week would make Price get on his case. He turns to the bar and grabs a whiskey glass.

"Aww, don't be like that..." Mitch says when he senses Ghost's anger. "I'm sorry. Listen - if you don't want to show her a good time, me and my buddy will. I'll leave my number and you'll give it to her for me?"

"Drink this, sober up, and go home Mitch." Ghost says, slapping the glass of clear liquid in front of the man. Mitch eyes him with a huff as he returns to washing the glasses in the bar sink.

"Fuckin' loser..." he mumbles, grabbing the glass and downing a large gulp - he immediately sputters, the drink spilling all over his front as he coughs and hacks violently. The entire floor looks over at the commotion, you included, standing by the POS and watching with a furrowed brow.

"Fuck- was that goddamn Everclear?!" He rasps.

"I think it's time y' head out, Mitch." Ghost says, leaning both of his hands against the bar. "Call your wife and kids. Stop comin' 'ere every week." He then leans in close, right in front of Mitch's face. "Cuz if I see you back at my bar again, I'm draggin' you out the back myself."

His eyes crinkle with a smile as he claps Mitch on the arm, making him jump from the impact. He quickly gets up off his seat and stumbles towards the front door, sparing one last bitter glance between you and Ghost, before he angrily shoves his way out.

Ghost sighs, putting the Everclear back on the shelf; you walk over right on cue. "What was that about? He ok?"

Simon shrugs, closing Mitch's tab on his POS and assigning an auto-gratuity. "Dunno. Maybe my advice finally got t' the bastard."

[feeder86]

Guy and a Gain

“Sure, she’s cute. But she can’t give a decent blow job to save her life,” Guy shrugged, checking out the girls on the dancefloor with his football buddy, Rich. 

“You’ve slept with her already?” Rich asked, always impressed by Guy’s prowess. 

“Of course I have. Look at her. She’s the prettiest girl in here by far,” he nodded down at her. “But she has no instincts when it comes to giving head. She’s been my biggest disappointment since I arrived on campus.”

“I’m sure she could learn,” Rich shrugged, still taken with the girl. He was tall and broad and enough of a catch for her. However, he didn’t have the natural good looks, strapping build and height that made it so effortless for Guy to pick up whoever he wanted on a night out.

“If you want her, go buy her a drink,” Guy shrugged. “But I’m telling you, you’ll be disappointed. If it’s a decent blow job you’re after tonight, you can’t go wrong with a fat girl. They’re always out to please. Gay guys too - awesome at taking a dick in their mouth.”

“Dude!” Rich shot back, taking a step back in horror. “You’re telling me you’re gay?”

Guy laughed, rolled his eyes and shook his head. He strapped his big arm over Rich’s shoulders and pulled him back in. “Don’t be that guy,” he stated warningly. “Not if you and I are going to be friends. It’s not the nineties. You hear what I’m saying?” he asked, turning his head to Rich. There was no denying which of them would win in a fight, so he wasn’t about to take some outdated homophobic shit just because the idiot came from some backwards ghost town in the midwest. “I love sex. And I stick my dick wherever it feels good. That’s just the kind of man I am.”

Rich seemed to get that he’d been out of line and he nodded respectfully. All the boys on the football team looked up to Guy, not just for his sporting capability and strength, but because he genuinely didn’t seem to give a crap about what others thought about him. He was smart and sharp; perfectly suited to the business degree he was studying. “So who’s given you the best time since we started college?” he asked.

“You’d be surprised,” Guy chuckled. “I have this skinny little geek in the room next to mine. You could tell he was a total virgin until I came along, but… fuck me! The boy is a natural when it comes to sucking. And so convenient, right next door. I don’t even have to knock.”

Rich nodded; his world view was a little less narrow than it had been a few minutes ago and he now seemed genuinely interested in his team mate’s extensive experiences in the bedroom. They chatted a bit more, until Guy saw the girl he wanted that night. Short, round and eyeing him like crazy. He’d give her a night she’d never forget!

“She was a bit of a noisy one last night,” Mikey grumbled, sliding into the kitchen area the next morning.

Guy laughed and tore a large bite out of his toast with his teeth. “Sorry, buddy,” he laughed. “I forgot you nerds all go to bed at 9am.”

Mikey rolled his eyes and poured himself some cereal. It was rare that they ever got the kitchen space to themselves like this, but Guy was always up for his gym session, no matter what time he went to bed. He sat there, hunched at the breakfast bar, his damp clothes sticking to his enormously muscular body. Even unshowered and stinking of sweat like this, he knew he could still get his favorite neighbor, Mikey, to go down on him in a microsecond.

“I noticed you brought home another fat girl,” Mikey commented next, grabbing the last of his own fresh milk that Guy had left him, after downing most of it post-workout. “You’re making quite a habit of this.”

Guy rose to his feet and laughed, dropping his plate in the sink for Mikey to clean up after him and grabbing the boy by his hips from behind. “Spying on me, huh?” he whispered teasingly. The boy was at least half a foot shorter than him, melting the moment he was touched. “Jealous, perhaps?”

Mikey moaned as he felt Guy’s lustful hands slide into his crotch to check how hard he was. “I just thought…” he mumbled, “some people find it odd when athletes like you date the fat girls.”

“Because I really give a shit about what people think, don’t I?” Guy chuckled back, peeling back Mikey’s shorts so that his tight glutes were exposed. “I could fuck your skinny little ass later if you think it might balance things out a bit?” he teased. He strolled off to the refrigerator, leaving Mikey to cover himself back up before anyone else came in, perusing the shelf of food Mikey had bought for himself yesterday and seeing if there was anything he wanted to help himself to. “Just because you eat like a little sparrow...,” he sighed, seeing the boring items within and taking a large pot of yoghurt to eat in his bedroom, “... it doesn’t mean that everyone else has to.”

Later that evening, Guy lay back on Mikey’s bed, his head swirling from the intensity of the orgasm after shooting down his geeky neighbor’s throat. He’d never admit to his face how good Mikey was at this, but of the scores of people he had slept with since coming to college, Mikey was the only one he’d made a habit of going back to.

“How was that?” the keen boy asked; his eyes watering from having taken Guy so far down his throat.

“Average,” Guy lied, wishing the nerd would be quiet a few moments longer and allow him this period of pure bliss.

“Not like the fat girls you bring home with you then?” Mikey asked.

Guy opened his eyes and sighed, sitting up. “Are you still going on about that?” he grumbled, pulling his underwear back up his muscular legs and raising his butt to get them all the way up.

“I kinda wanted to ask you something?” Mikey tried next, in an oddly serious tone.

Again, Guy sighed impatiently. “What is it?”

“These fat girls you go after… do you ever get horny thinking about them… y’know… getting even fatter?”

Guy raised an eyebrow. What sort of an odd question was that? He shrugged his shoulders, deciding not to commit to an answer and see where the hell Mikey was going with this. “Why do you ask?”

Mikey seemed emboldened by Guy’s response, getting up from his kneeling position on the floor and sitting on the chair by his desk. “It’s just… sort of a fantasy of mine,” he explained.

“Me fucking fat chicks?” Guy asked sceptically? He realised he knew so little about what genuinely got Mike going.

“No. Not that,” he replied, shaking his head. “There’s just something so kinky and submissive about getting fat for someone; becoming soft and out of shape.”

Guy looked across, even more puzzled, despite doing his best to hide it. “You eat less food than anyone else I know,” he shot back. “You won’t be getting fat anytime soon!”

Mikey nodded, as if Guy had hit the nail right on the head. “Exactly!” he smiled. “Imagine if someone pushed me to get fat for them! If some dominant guy made me eat all the things that forced my body to grow and grow for his own pleasure. How fucking sexy would that be?”

Nodding, Guy considered the idea. “You’re definitely submissive enough,” he agreed, standing and pulling up his sweat shorts. 

“You’re not going to tell anyone I told you that, are you?” Mikey asked, suddenly panicked.

“Who the fuck do you think would be interested?” Guy laughed. “People are allowed to have kinks, y’know? You need to lighten up a little!”

Mikey nodded back in agreement. Neither of them socialised within the same circles anyway. Guy was nothing if not liberal when it came to all things to do with sex. It was water off a duck’s back.

Mikey didn’t mention the subject the next time Guy went over for his servicing, despite being surprisingly chatty about his day afterwards. Guy listened out of a vague politeness as he stretched out on Mikey’s comfortable bed and watched the TV screen in the background. He could relax around Mikey. The guy didn’t take any of this too seriously and never got clingy or sentimental. Sex was sex.

In fact, it was only as Guy spotted Mikey in the corner at a frat house party, that he realised he had never actually seen Mikey outside of the dorms until then. Their lives were so disconnected, with the exception of the thin wall that separated their dorm rooms. He waved politely, following the other athletes through to the kitchen, where the usual fun and drinking games took place.

Later that evening, with a circle of women swarming around him, Guy looked over to see a boy looking in Mikey’s direction. Tall, slim and not unattractive, he gave Guy the distinct impression that he was interested in the nerdy boy. “Does anyone know who that one is?” Guy asked the girls.

“That’s just Aiden,” one replied. “He’s got a crush on that guy over there,” she pointed at Mikey. “They're on the same course together or something.”

Aiden? That name rang a bell. Guy was sure he’d heard that name mentioned by Mikey a few times in the past. It surprised him how little he had actually considered Mikey’s life outside of their casual fucking. Of course Mikey was going to pique someone else’s interest at some point. Guy wasn’t the type to get into a relationship, but perhaps Mikey would be. Then what would happen? No more awesome blow jobs for a start. Normal people weren’t good at sharing.

“Hey, Mikey!” Guy suddenly shouted from across the room, catching sight of Aiden moving in, as if to make his move. “Come grab a drink with me.”

Mikey smiled and diligently headed over. There, Guy wrapped a big arm over his slim shoulders and slipped a shot into his hand. Guy himself didn’t drink, never needing alcohol to make him fun at a party and refusing to fuck his training up with toxins that could impact his progress. There he stood, guarding the boy from any who may try to come near. Ten minutes was all they stayed after that, walking back to the dorms so that Aiden couldn’t sneak his way towards Mikey when Guy wasn’t looking.

“Are you coming in?” Guy asked, opening the door to his own bedroom and inviting Mikey inside. 

“I’m honoured!” Mikey joked, having never been invited into Guy’s room before. He stepped over the threshold, into the dungeon of mess, sweat and sex.

The idea of Aiden had plagued Guy’s mind, suddenly making him realise just how much he had taken Mikey, and his awesome sucking skills, for granted. A gesture was required; a way to show the boy that his pleasure was important too. Guy stood in the middle of the room, planting his feet solidly and pulled the geek into him; kissing him passionately in an almost romantic manner. “Did you like that?” he grinned afterwards, knowing how well he could seduce when he wanted to. He pulled off his shirt and went in again, this time guiding Mikey’s hands to explore his muscular chest. He needed Mikey to know what an absolutely perfect specimen he was if the boy was going to be asked out by Aiden soon; let him see what he would be missing out on if he got into a relationship. “Let’s take off your clothes,” Guy whispered next, undressing Mikey himself until his pants and underwear fell around his feet and he stood there naked, erect and longing for him.

Mikey seemed to appreciate how different this all was. Guy was the first to admit that he never really put the effort in when it came to his sessions with the boy next door. Then, when Guy started sliding his large hand up and down Mikey’s hardness, the skinny boy moaned like he could climax at any time.

Guy had no intention of losing his fuck buddy. For the last hour, he’d been plotting how best to handle the situation, settling upon something he decided he could give Mikey better than anyone else. He threw open his closet door where a mirror rested on the other side, now reflecting Mikey perfectly back at himself.

“Who’s that skinny little shit in the mirror?” Guy teased him, looking like a monster of pure muscle stood behind him.

In the mirror, Mikey watched Guy’s hand slowly sliding up and down his hardness; his lust filled eyes half closed and his jaw slack.

“I want you to do something for me,” Guy whispered next. “I want you to drink my protein shakes,” he nodded backwards to the little minibar that also served as a bedside table for him. “Five hundred and eighty calories each,”

Mikey turned and looked up at him, as if the reflected version was merely a mirage. “You want me to drink all your shakes?” he asked, as if worried he had misunderstood.

“Yeah, I do…” Guy nodded down at him. “Every last drop.”

Guy could feel Mikey almost quivering with arousal. He bent down to his little fridge and popped the lid on one of his shakes.

“You know what these will do to you, right?” Guy grinned. “These aren’t made for skinny little dweebs like you. Boys who drink these and don’t exercise… they start to…” he whispered, keeping Mikey hanging on his every word. “...They start to get a little fat!””

Mikey nodded with absolute submission; his hands twitching to take the bottle from Guy’s large hand.

“Say goodbye to the skinny boy,” Guy laughed, nodding at the reflection once more, before twisting the mirror slightly so that the angle changed. Then he sat himself against the headboard of his bed. He spread his legs, pulling Mikey to sit into his crotch with his back resting against his strapping chest. Cleverly, Mikey could still see everything in the mirror as Guy’s hand rose up his neck, tipping his head back so that it rested on his muscular shoulder. Then those strong fingers pressed into Mikey’s cheeks, opening the jaws and turning Mikey’s mouth into the perfect pouring hole for the shake.

The mixture was cold. Guy took his time, adding a little at a time, as if making Mikey work for it. He theatrically rubbed the boy’s throat, like he was encouraging a good swallow; then went straight back to work on that aching erection. Once one bottle was down, Guy could reach with his giant arm span down into his minibar for the next, without even having to move Mikey. Then, down went another, and another.

“Can you see what’s happening?” Guy whispered, rubbing a hand over Mikey’s bloating stomach.

“It looks so big!” Mikey moaned back, with Guy having to pull his hand away from the boy’s erection once again in order to stop him climaxing.

“This is what you’re going to grow for me,” Guy demanded. “Every day, everything you eat… all for me.”

Mikey moaned so loudly now, it felt almost cruel to deny him his orgasm any longer. “Yes!” he nodded emphatically. “I swear. I absolutely swear!”

Guy only needed to touch him for a few seconds and the eruption that followed was more explosive than any he had ever seen a guy make. He looked at the splatter above the headboard behind them and chuckled. It was almost as high as he could get it himself. This was certainly a strange kink that Mikey had, but Guy felt that he had made his point well. No one was going to indulge this geek in his fantasies about weight gain; at least, not like Guy could. So why would Mikey need to look for connections anywhere else?

A few days later, Guy did a double take as he looked on Mikey's shelf in the refrigerator for food he could steal after his workout. Gone were the boring, sensible ingredients, replaced with high carb options, sugars and high fat dairy. Guy almost thought he was just confused, until he checked out the cupboard that Mikey kept for himself as well, finding a similar story. He frowned in confusion, wondering whether people had reorganised the kitchen space, until the encounter with Mikey nights before came back to him. Was the boy actually going to have a go at gaining a few pounds? How cute was that? But would this mean that Guy would have to buy more of his own food whilst Mikey was going through this little phase of his? 

The normally fresh and clean smell of Mikey’s room was tainted by spices and the sweaty, grease stained food containers that piled up on the boy’s desk. Mikey himself looked bloated and sluggish, his stomach stretched so much that he was obviously in some discomfort. Guy looked down at him, trying to hold back a laugh. “Someone’s been enjoying himself!” he teased.

Mikey nodded. “If I’d have known you wanted to stop by tonight, I’d have saved the pizza so you could watch me eat it all for you.”

Guy wondered what on Earth Mikey expected him to get out of watching him eat a pizza. Was it supposed to be kinky? Like the protein shakes? Perhaps it was part of the submission aspect. All the same, it sounded more than a little dull. But this was Mikey’s kink and Guy was hardly about to shame him about it. On the contrary, how exciting that the otherwise vanilla boy was actually doing something that he genuinely found thrilling. “We’ll have a little fat belly on you in no time!” he smirked, reaching down to pat the clearly overstuffed stomach.

Like a flip switching in Mikey’s mind, the boy instantly became more aroused. Guy took notice, rubbing the stomach more and more, until Mikey finally fished out Guy’s boner and set his magic mouth to work.

“Have you seen Mikey recently?” asked Hannah, a former conquest of Guy's and the girl who lived across the hallway. “He’s seriously packed on the Freshman Fifteen.”

“You probably just saw him after he’d had a meal,” Guy replied knowingly. “He tends to eat a lot in one go. He gets bloated.”

Hannah shook her head, not accepting the excuse in the slightest. “This was first thing in the morning. He has actual love handles!” she stated emphatically.

Now it was Guy’s turn to shake his head. He’d only been in to play with Mikey a few days before the Spring Break and he hadn’t noticed any sign of love handles before then.

Hannah laughed. “Seriously!” she chuckled. “I’m not making this up.”

Guy marched down the corridor and knocked on Mikey’s door, making Hannah laugh as she stayed in the kitchen. “Wakey, wakey!” he called out, knowing that the boy was rarely up at this time on a Saturday. In the short space of time that it took a groggy Mikey to get out of bed, the door clicked unlocked and in Guy went, closing the door behind him. The dark, hunched form of Guy’s drowsy neighbor slipped straight back into bed. Instead, Guy strolled over to the window and threw them open dramatically. “Time to get up!” he teased. 

As light flooded the room, Guy could see the mess of wrappers and containers that was testament to how much Mikey had been overfeeding himself since he arrived back on Wendesday night. He laughed to himself, picking up some of the mess and putting it on the boy’s desk. Then, knowing that it would frustrate Mikey, he reached for the duvet and yanked it away with full force, uncovering the entirely naked boy lying on his front underneath.

Guy’s eyes flew to the little rounded pads of flesh on Mikey’s side, the skin starting to crease and mark the area more clearly: love handles, without a shadow of a doubt. “Ho, ho!” he blasted in amusement. “Look at you!” he marvelled, reaching his big hand down onto his neighbor’s glute and finding it was squishy and significantly bouncier, with clearly added mass to it. “Someone is actually getting chubby!” he teased, absolutely astonished with the difference. That skinny little ass was gone, replaced with something much more meaty and even a little feminine.

Despite his tiredness, Mikey wrigged with arousal at the touch as Guy began playing with the softness that even spread down into his thighs. He rolled over; his erection already sizable as he tried to open his eyes and look towards Guy, even with the harsh light coming in through the window behind him.

What was happening to Mikey’s chest? Guy inspected further. The nipples seemed softer and the blubbery build up in the boy’s love handles was further spread across his stomach, deepening his belly button. “Stand up,” Guy demanded. “I want to look at you properly.”

Mikey did as he was told, Guy placed his hands on the boy’s shoulders, guiding him over to the mirror, so that he could see all angles at once.

“Fuck!” Guy laughed, seeing what a transformation had been silently happening behind his back. He felt proud. The biggest complaint people had about Mikey, here in the dorms, was that he was a fairly dull and boring person. Well, look at him now! This was hardly boring. The kinky little fucker was actually doing something none of them would ever have the guts to do. “I’m pleased,” Guy told him honestly, looking at his face in the reflection. “How does it feel for you?”

At this Mikey’s hands began exploring himself, grabbing at the fat and jiggling where he could with the tips of his fingers. “Amazing!” he whispered back, bursting with arousal.

“Well then…” Guy smiled, placing his hand back on Mikey’s chubby glute: his favorite new feature by far. “...You have to keep going,” he stated. “Keep eating and eating. Add more and more fresh fat onto this frame of yours.”

“I will,” Mikey nodded back obediently. “If it’s what you want. I’ll keep going as far as I can!”

Guy had never seen Mikey’s dick dribbling with arousal so easily. If this weight gain and submission was what aroused him so much, there was no way he could let it stop. “It’s what I want,” Guy agreed. “I want you to grow a proper fat belly, just for me.”

The pair kissed. Guy had never felt Mikey moan and collapse into him quite so much; like a ragdoll, ready to be played with.

“I know what’ll help…” Guy laughed, pulling down his pants and tugging on his own semi-erection until it was pumped and hard. “Let’s lubricate your throat ready for a full day of eating,” he joked cheekily.

Immediately, Mikey slipped to his knees. His jaws opened and he hungrily took the whole of Guy’s enormous erection down his throat like no one else on campus could. It took Guy by surprise each time, how instantaneous the pleasure was. He had to spread his legs a little more and reach one hand out to steady himself on the wall for fear that he may fall over. He didn’t need to press Mikey’s head into his crotch. The boy needed no guidance in the slightest. It was all just so perfect.

An involuntary moan escaped Guy’s lips. Now that his fuck buddy was getting fat, he wouldn’t have to worry about someone trying to steal him away. Mikey’s mouth was all his.

No one on campus was aware that Guy and Mikey were anything more than casual acquaintances, and so no one was cautious about discussing Mikey weight gain around Guy. The overall feeling was one of amusement. In many ways, it was understandable. Mikey had indeed been incredibly thin at the start of the year and he was heading towards the summer looking significantly softer and padded. For the most part, Guy simply ignored it, or tried to move the conversations away. He wasn’t about the campus drama and the behind the scenes bad-mouthing like some of the others. Sure, people were going to talk, but they didn’t have the full story in the same way that Guy did.

The final football game of the season arrived and Guy was pumped for it. He didn’t get nervous like the others seemed to. He was also bigger than everyone else on the field, not weighed down by excess weight, making him lighter on his feet than the opposition ever expected from him. He’d been buzzing the entire morning, heading to the gym for a full session despite the advice from his coach to rest that morning. He simply had too much energy to spare. He knocked on Mikey’s door wondering whether the boy was up for a little fun before he had to leave. Unlike everyone else in the dorms, Mikey never came down to the games. He simply wasn’t into sports, and that was fair enough. In fact, Mikey seemed entirely oblivious to the fact that it was even taking place that day, answering the door and ushering Guy inside excitedly.

“Look what I bought!” the chubby boy smiled, leading Guy over to his desk where a large, round cake sat waiting for a party of twenty people to come in and start feasting upon it. “I’m going to try and eat it all this afternoon!” he beamed.

Guy chuckled to himself, seeing the erection already pressing against Mikey’s sweatshorts. “You go for it, buddy!” he smiled, clapping the boy on his back. His enthusiasm for overeating and putting on weight was almost infectious at times. He lifted the plastic lid and swept his finger around the edge, gathering a decent amount of cream which Mikey excitedly sucked off.

“Do you want to feed it to me?” Mikey asked, pulling his shirt off to reveal his softening torso.

Inwardly, Guy sighed with disappointment. How long would that take? He had to leave in twenty minutes or so, and if Mikey’s mouth was going to be occupied that entire time, there was no chance of a quick blow job. 

“How about…” Guy began, lifting his own shirt off and dropping his shorts and underwear, “...we both have a little fun at the same time?”

“What did you have in mind?” Mikey asked, watching as Guy pulled out the lubricant from the drawer and squirted it into his hand.

Guy looked down at him with a smirk. Then he reached a hand into Mikey’s crack and began preparing the area, making the boy moan with arousal as his large fingers brushed and gently penetrated. Mikey pulled down his underwear to help him and was soon leaning into it so much that Guy could give him a decent warm up.

Having a firm press down on his back, Mikey obediently slipped onto all fours. Guy reached for the cake and placed it underneath the boy’s face. “Ready?” he asked, reaching for Mikey’s jaw, as if loosening it up for better movement and stretch.

Mikey’s eyes were on the prize. His head was lowered down into it, perhaps more than he was expecting, his nose now pressing into the sponge and his tongue lapping it all up with ferocious speed.

Guy assumed his position, grabbing a condom, sliding his hardness into Mikey’s gaping butt and sighing with pleasure. As blessed as most people told him he was with such a large dick, Guy found he was rarely allowed to settle into his own good rhythm when penetrating. There was simply too much of him to handle. WIth Mikey, however, the boy just seemed to relax so much, it was like total freedom for Guy. After wincing the initial time they had tried this, Mikey took to it with ease. He was the only one Guy could properly deliver what he referred to as a ‘thorough pounding’.

Through the mirror, Guy could see that Mikey’s face was now covered in cake as he tried to gorge himself at the same time as his body was getting pumped from behind. Guy laughed, happy to take the control that Mikey offered up so willingly. “Come on!” he chuckled. “You can do better than that!” he called out encouragingly, seeing Mikey’s tongue scrabbling about trying to lick up as much as he could.

The fat on Mikey’s back had really come a long way since they had last done this. The love handles in particular seemed to ripple and bounce out of sync with the rest of his body. The bones in his shoulder blades were less severe and an emerging softness appeared to be forming just under his arms. However, the boy’s butt was the centerpiece; the way it was spread so wide and felt so much softer to the touch as Guy gripped on.

A moan started emanating from Mikey. In the mirror, his eyes were rolling up into his head. He began oinking - actually oinking, as he continued to gorge himself. Guy sped up. There was nothing he got off to more than seeing someone else genuinely getting lost in the moment. Mikey was letting go like never before.

“That’s it!” Guy cried out. “Oink like a pig!”

Without even a hand anywhere near his own hardness, it was obvious that Mikey was climaxing. His face fell upon the cake and he groaned louder than he ever had during sex before. The whole thing made the pleasure build upon Guy with rapid speed; almost taken by surprise as he felt himself squirt.

Guy wiped the sweat from his brow and sighed in relief. He’d rarely felt so completely satisfied before. He pulled out, stopping only momentarily to chuckle at the wide, gaping hole he left behind, then unpeeled the condom and began dressing himself. The mess was everywhere, cake smashed into the carpet that would take some time to scrub out.

“Thanks for that,” Guy smiled, looking down at the fat boy who had rolled onto his doughy rear and not even attempted to clean any of the cake off his face yet. He too seemed to be enjoying momentary bliss, grabbing at the first roll of his fattened stomach like it was the most precious thing in the world. Guy’s work was done here.

During the summer months, Guy had sweet talked his way into an internship with a local company, hoping to boost his CV for when he finished his degree in a further two years. He didn’t need to be told that his pretty face would be an asset for the company, but he was surprised at how much more he was interacting with the clients than the others in his position. A well fitting shirt and a tight pair of pants never failed to make things easier for him to charm pretty much everyone he was around. Already, he could see how well suited he was to business; his boss realising what a force to be reckoned with Guy could one day become. "This guy is going to take over the world one day!" she'd laughed as Guy pulled in new clients from a sponsorship event that he had organised entirely by himself.

Guy had also briefly dated a couple of girls, wanting to experience the steamy ‘summer love’ of his old high school days. However, he still had no intentions of settling down for anyone. Not a chance!

Mikey, meanwhile, had taken a job at a fast food restaurant back in his hometown; returning to campus that year looking like he hadn’t stopped eating the entire time. Quite a few of them had applied to stay in the dorms and been successful, but there was still plenty of fresh meat for Guy to enjoy about the place.

Guy remembered being quite taken aback when he saw the full stomach on Mikey after their time apart. It had morphed from a tight paunch to a full starter gut, complete with pointed and juicy-looking nipples. Had the boy seriously eaten nothing but fast food all summer? A simple rub of Mikey’s stomach or jiggle of his fleshy rear never failed to get the new chub horny, and Guy was all in for that. He thought back to the previous year and how forward he’d had to be with shy Mikey just to let him know that he was interested. Sex had not been a part of Mikey’s life before then, and now look at him: his entire body turned into a playhouse of his kinkiest sexual fantasies! Guy felt nothing but pride.

“You knew Mikey from last year, right?” asked Samantha, a clearly high-maintenance fresher girl who had moved in last week. “Maybe you can get through to him.”

“Why?” Guy asked, wondering what seemed to be so urgent.

“You need to let him know that we don’t want to see his belly hanging out anymore. He’s just bent down into the refrigerator and I had about four inches of his butt crack staring back at me!”

Guy laughed. “Is that all?” he sighed in relief. “I thought something was wrong.”

Samantha exhaled in shock. “Something is wrong!” she blasted. “He can’t be allowed to keep walking around in clothes that are that tight! It’s disgusting!”

“Leave him be,” Guy shrugged. “You don’t need to be around him if you don’t want to.”

“There are some guys who make fun of him on his course,” Samantha pressed on. “If he’d just wear a damn sweatshirt or something to try and make himself look like less of a target, I’m sure they’d leave him alone.”

At this, Guy stood up from his chair, suddenly filled with anger. “Who’s been making fun of him?” he demanded, ready to go and see to them, right there and then.

“Mikey is the one who needs speaking to!” Samantha shot back. “Go ask him who the guys are. Maybe you can talk some sense into him.”

Shaking his head with annoyance, Guy stormed down the corridor and let himself into Mikey’s room without even knocking. The boy was sitting at his desk, still pushing a large tray of cream cakes he had collected from the refrigerator when he had offended Samantha so much. He turned in surprise, seeing Guy bursting in on him like this.

“Who’s making fun of you on your course?” Guy asked, closing the door behind him.

Mikey smiled; his chubby cheeks and chin showing all the more. “Oh, you heard about that?” he chuckled. “A couple of the new freshmen: Dan and Alec.”

“You’ll need to point them out to me,” Guy demanded, clearly annoyed. “I’ll soon sort them out.”

Mikey’s face was one of pure amusement. “Not everything is a problem that needs fixing,” he simply replied, pushing a cream cake into his mouth.

“What is it they say to you?” Guy pressed on.

Mikey chewed and swallowed. “Oh, lots of things!” he giggled. “Fat Boy, Pig, Piggy, Lardass!”

Guy could feel his heart beating faster with frustration However, Mikey seemed entirely relaxed and happy. “Wait a minute…” Guy stopped him. “Is this one of those things..?” he pondered. “Are you… Do you get off on this? The guys treating you that way?”

Mikey raised his eyebrows cheekily, not needing to say anything further.

“That’s why your clothes are so tight this year, isn’t it? You actually want people to comment?” Guy asked next, feeling like he had delved further than ever before into the mind of his part-time lover.

Again, Mikey only pressed a cake into his mouth and smirked.

Guy felt all the pent-up frustration in him release. A great wave of affection for Mikey swept through him and he reached out a hand to pull the chubby boy up from his chair, leaning him back into his great arms like he was trying to seduce him all over again. “You’re the kinkiest little fucker I’ve ever come across,” he smiled with delight. “You know that right?”

Mikey swallowed and grinned back. “You started this,” he stated, rubbing his easily accessible belly fat as his overly short t-shirt rode up.

Guy looked down at the boy’s gut and nodded. “I sure did!” he teased. “And what a good piggy you’ve turned out to be!” he smirked, trying the word out now he knew a little more about how it excited Mikey.

The chub seemed to melt into him further. They kissed and then quickly undressed for the inevitable.

The Spring was upon them once again as Guy invited Mikey over to his room for a quiet evening together. Mikey always seemed more aroused to be in Guy’s room for whatever reason. Perhaps it was the knowledge that Guy had fucked and pleasured so many people between those sheets of his. The large athlete was sitting propped up against the headboard, romantically caressing Mikey as he leant against his naked chest and watched a movie with him.

Watching movies was not usually Guy’s thing. He’d often been accused of having an attention difficulty in school, making him restless and troublesome in class, despite the high grades he always came away with. But here, with Mikey, Guy felt complete relaxation, rubbing that fat stomach that had been grown for him and laughing together at the funny parts of the picture.

“There’s actually a gainer event happening not too far away in a couple of months,” Mikey explained, scrolling through his cell phone.

“When is it?” Guy asked. “I can take you.”

Mikey mumbled nervously. “I’m not so sure it’s my thing…” he fretted. “I’d be too nervous.”

At this, Guy laughed. “Nervous? You?” He rubbed Mikey’s large stomach. The boy was now a full one hundred and twenty pounds heavier than he had been when the pair met over eighteen months ago, standing at a full two hundred and sixty pounds despite his fairly average height. He’d battled name-calling, family disapproval and public wardrobe malfunctions aplenty. “You’re the bravest person I know.” 

Again, Mikey grumbled in disagreement.

Guy quickly did an internet search on his cell phone and found it himself. “There!” he declared a minute later, putting his cell phone back on the bed beside him. “Two tickets. One for me, and one for my lardass!” he teased, kissing Mikey on the back of his head and squeezing him once more. “I’lll book us a nice hotel later too.” Picking up a few modelling jobs had definitely helped make Guy’s life a little easier of late, and there was no one who deserved a treat more.

As the date approached, Mikey had gone into a frenzy of calorie consuming, determined to look the part for a gainer event. The boy was just a frustrating couple of pounds shy of three hundred when Guy took his chubby little hand and led him inside. 

Guy had never seen so many huge men in the same room and they eyed him suspiciously until they saw that his hand was placed appreciatively on Mikey’s broad butt as they stood to the side of the dancefloor.

“There are still quite a few small guys,” Guy whispered to Mikey, who had been worried about not being fat enough for weeks. “A few dad bods with only a little gut to show for themselves.”

Mikey nodded, feeling better and more relaxed as others started coming up to them, wanting to know their story.

“That person’s been checking you out all night,” Guy nodded over at a slender and handsome man in the corner.

“No he hasn’t,” Mikey shot back.

“Trust me, when people aren’t checking me out, I notice,” Guy replied. “He’s definitely interested in you.”

Mikey smiled, rather flattered.

“Who knows, he might be open to a little…” Guy winked, having learned recently that Mikey had a small fantasy about having a threesome. Guy waved his arm and beckoned the man over to them, despite Mikey’s nervous protests.

The admirer introduced himself as Henry and he admitted to having attended plenty of these types of events in the last few years. “What’s your weight?” he asked Mikey; an outrageous question in any other circumstances but these.

Guy jumped in to answer. “He’s just hit three-twenty,” he lied. He was only one hundred and forty pounds two years ago.”

“That’s impressive!” Henry nodded, clearly more interested than ever.

“He’s been a high achiever his whole life,” Guy smiled, wrapping his strong large arm over Mikey’s shoulders with pride.

Henry wanted to know more about their situation and circumstances. Were they an item? Was it casual? Was Guy really a feeder? But when the time came to ask him if he wanted to come back to the hotel with them, Henry did not decline. They stopped for takeout on the way, with Henry very clearly getting off on how much Mikey was able to eat: being so assertive with the chub, clearly setting high expectations from the start. Then they all headed back, making every pleasurable second all about Mikey; just as he deserved.

At the end of another summer, Guy and Mikey embarked upon their final year of college. Mikey’s weight had continued to creep up, with his face now properly framed by a large double chin and his upper arms finally starting to puff up and broaden him up a bit.

“I actually met up with Henry a couple of times this summer,” Mikey explained casually as the pair of them lay awkwardly facing each other on the narrow single bed in Guy’s room.

Guy instantly felt ashamed of the giant wave of jealousy that washed over him. He’d slept with a countless number of people during their casual sex games of the last two years, yet he begrudged Mikey even this little thing in return. Still, he tried not to show his feelings, diligently asking questions and smiling encouragingly, as if this was all positive news.

“Henry really knows how to push me to eat,” Mikey went on. “I’ve never eaten as much in my life! And it was all the type of stuff that he knew would only make me fatter.”

Guy nodded, concealing the inadequacy he felt. He’d never really been what Mikey had wanted. He only knew the absolute basics of the feedism kink Mikey was so into and had, for the most part, got away without having to sit through many of the tedious feeding sessions Mikey seemed to enjoy so much. This whole affair with Mikey had started because Guy hadn’t wanted anyone to take the champion blow-job boy away from him, yet he had unknowingly opened the floodgates during that fairly average threesome he had been a part of back at the gainer event. “Are you meeting up with him again?” he asked casually.

“He’s coming here in December,” Mikey squeaked excitedly. “But he’s given me strict instructions to continue to eat and grow before then. I honestly think he wants me to be absolutely huge!”

Guy smiled back at him, despite the sadness he felt. Mikey was undoubtedly slipping away from him.

That December, Guy had been away with the football team during the weekend of Henry’s visit. Even so, Mikey’s weight had continued to increase at an almost alarming rate, both before and after the feeder had called over. It had been spurred on by the many messages and video calls the pair had made, despite the great geographical distance between them. Guy had so many other things on his mind, he tried to convince himself that it didn’t bother him, but he was never fully successful. Mikey himself was now entirely unrecognisable, coated with giant amounts of fat all over his body. His frame had widened, with fat spilling out from his round gut and his nipples sagging right onto his swollen midsection. He walked slowly about the campus, usually carrying a backpack filled with fattening supplies from the nearby supermarket in order to further his weight gain. Likewise, Henry had begun ordering fast food to the dorms, increasing Mikey’s intake even more and ensuring that the boy had surpassed three hundred and eighty pounds by April.

Guy knew that he couldn’t get away with avoiding Henry a second time when he stopped by for an entire week that Spring, just before the final exam season got underway. The conversation was polite, but it was obvious that Henry wanted more time alone with Mikey, rather than having Guy tagging along.

“Let’s be real…” Henry stated at the end of the week, taking advantage of the fact that Mikey had gone to the bathroom at the restaurant he was treating the two of them to a meal at. “You’re not actually a feeder, are you?”

“What does that matter?” Guy shrugged. “I’ve done pretty well getting Mikey’s weight up. He would still be that skinny little twig if it wasn’t for me.”

Henry shook his head and laughed. “No he wouldn’t!” he replied dismissively. “Mikey is a fat boy, through and through! I’ve never come across anyone like him. If you hadn’t been there, he would have found some other excuse to start piling the pounds on. It’s just in him. He’s meant to be absolutely enormous.”

Guy didn’t have a response. In reality, he’d known as much from the very beginning. Mikey had never needed much encouragement to overeat, and he’d always seemed propelled to fatten by some force greater than a basic kinky subservience kink to Guy himself.

“I’m going to ask him to move with me to Phoenix when he finishes college next month,” Henry announced; his tone one of uncompromising assertiveness.

“Phoenix?” Guy gasped in alarm. “But I’ll never see him!”

“What the hell did you think he was going to do when he finished college? You’ve got a job lined up here in the city, but what is there for Mikey? He doesn’t have any family here. You really expected him to just hang around for you?”

Guy exhaled, knowing that they couldn’t carry the conversation on with the fattened Mikey trotting back towards the table. He ground his teeth together, wondering how best to fight this plan to uproot Mikey’s entire life and move him to Phoenix. But then he witnessed the boy’s delight the next day as Henry made the offer, and witnessed the tears days later as Henry had to leave him once more. It was over. Mikey had found the one he was really meant to be with.

“You’ll come and visit me, right?” Mikey asked as Guy dropped the last of Mikey’s stuff in the back of Henry’s truck a few weeks later.

“Of course I will,” Guy nodded, trying to hold back on how cut up he felt that his time with Mikey was now over. “Just you try and stop me!”

The pair hugged warmly.

Next, Henry came up and shook Guy’s hand. Despite the silent animosity between them, there was an air of respect. Henry had been right, after all. Mikey needed a lot more than Guy could give him. This was the life that the fat boy coveted and deserved. But Henry was no idiot either. He knew what Guy was giving up; that he had fallen in love with the boy, and that his love was not returned; at least, not in the same way.

“Come on, Fatso!” Henry smiled, patting Mikey on his wide, blubbery butt. “We’d best hit the road.”

Guy stood looking into the distance long after the truck went out of sight. One very massive chapter of his life had just ended, and another was about to begin.

[thanosscross]

Hello 🫣 A request for Thanos, I know he's a bit unhinged but I need some fluff for this man...<3

~ It's mentioned that Thanos was recruited by the businessman for the games whilst he was contemplating on a bridge. During the games, him and reader form relationship and during lights out after the mingle game, he feels comfortable with reader and starts opening up abt this etc and the reader comforts him etc...

Tysm!! ☁️🌟

Of course Oml I love this, and I'm always a sucker for the sappy sadness <3 and safe to say I think everybody is loving some un-hinged thanos content <3

My beauty flower - Choi Su-bong/Thanos x reader

summary: After you have a melt down in the six leg game, and again in Mingle, Thanos remembers he never kept his promise, and opens up to you more than you'd ever thought he would.

Warnings: Talks of attempted suicide, Thanos being a sweet guy for a few moments

You went into the games just like everybody else did, unknown to the trauma and death that was ahead, desperate to go home, but even more desperate to get your money for your three youngest siblings. You were basically on your own until first lights out, whenever someone who you'd come to know as Thanos grabbed you for his team. After that he clung onto you, making sure you were always right next to him, his arm either around you, or holding onto you somehow.

As you rushed into the small bright yellow room, you slid against the wall, it was the last round, at least that's what you thought the lady said over the speaker, Thanos had sent player 125 with Nam-gyu and dragged you with him to a room. "Woo! Isn't this fun, senorita!?" he shouted excitement flowing through his voice as he turned to look at you. You were sitting with your knees to your chest shaking your head "Hey don't break on me now! We need you!" He shouted rushing over to you as the door locked "I-I can't do this anymore!" You shouted back "I-I can't" You repeated quieter, realizing he could very easily leave you out of the group on your own. "What're you talking about? You've got this, you're the best player other than thanos the great" He protested, you just shook your head, letting a sob slip as you heard the click of the lock undoing. "Y/n. Look at me. You've got this, like we talked about last game remember? Shit might seem scary, but once it's done, we're alright" He said, the speaker announcing for everybody to make their way back to the room you all slept in. "See? Another game, another day" Thanos smiled, you just huffed and took his hand to help yourself up, he kept ahold of yours as he walked out "Welcome back, my friends!! Skrrt!" He shouted as he dragged you out towards the door, Nam-gyu rushed behind you two, desperate to catch up and ask why he chose you to go with him and not him.

Dinner that night was usual, Thanos fucking with you the entire time while you tried to eat, and Nam-gyu encouraging it all. It was whenever the lights went out that something weird happened, you were in bed, almost asleep on the other side of the room from your friends, until someone slowly slid under your covers next to you "Beauty flower" You heard Thanos whisper "You awake?" He asked, ghosting a hand over your hip "Mhmm" You hummed, slowly turning around to face him "What's wrong, thanos?" you asked, grogginess still covering your voice like a warm blanket "Call me Su-bong, but don't tell anybody" He whispered, giving you a serious look before cupping your cheek "I realized..during that leg game..I promised to tell you something about me" He whispered "I never did" Smiling you shook your head "remember? You said you were a rapper?" You joked "I'm serious" he offered, finally letting his hand rest on your hip, you relaxed further onto the uncomfortable stiff mattress, scooting back a bit to get a better view of this place.

"Something about me...is...growing up I never had a lot, so I started rapping for money, built up enough..and I lost it all in a fucking crypto scam..lost everything I ever worked for in life, gone" You could feel his frustration, both through his voice, and by his tightened grip on you "did some rap battles, ya know, try and rebuild? but I uh..Uhm..I got to the big leagues in a big battle..and forgot the words right at the end..anyways..I felt like I was ruining my own life, l-like, I'd never get rid of what was ruining my life because it was me" He explained, you frowned scooting closer to him, hugging him the best you could while laying down, he returned the hug by holding you tight against his chest "So I went to a bridge..and right before I was going to jump..a man walked up to me and offered me a spot to play here..did all of that..and then I met you, beauty flower, and it made me realize, the universe just had to kick me around to realize how special you truly are" He explained letting out a sigh, like it had been preventing him to breathe until he told you.

"Su-bong..I.." He cut you off "Please don't..say anything.." He whispered pressing a soft kiss to your forehead "I'm okay now, because my beauty flower and I are gonna finish these games and win that money!!" He shouted, laughing as you were both 'shh'ed by others around you trying to sleep. You giggled quietly holding onto his shirt, his jacket most likely discarded around his bunk "Are you gonna go back to your own bed, Thanos?" You asked playfully "I told you, Su-bong, and no, I'm good here" He replied, leaving his arm around you, using his other arm to steal your pillow, replacing it with said arm so you weren't left with nothing. "Really?" you gasped, shoving him onto his back, laying your head onto his chest sighing "Really?" He mocked, resting a hand on your lower back, and resting his head on his other arm "Why do you want me to call you Su-bong?" You asked softly, you were actually confused, you couldn't understand why "I trust you, beauty flower, you make me..feel like I don't have to be a badass all the time" He explained resting his chin on the top of your head "Oh.." You whispered, going quiet "Is that okay?.." He asked nervously, pulling his hand out from under his head instantly reaching for his necklace, but you caught it before he could grab it "Yea..it's okay." You replied, before taking a moment, trying to build up your confidence to speak again "I think I love you, su-bong" You whispered, squeezing his necklace tightly, it was his turn to take your hand "Don't-..." He stopped himself, looking at his face, you could tell his was fighting himself, for a second you could feel your heart drop, that was stupid to say to him "I love you too, y/n" He finally responded, pulling you closer to him "Now..go to sleep...gotta make sure we're ready for the game tomorrow" He lectured before laying back down on his back, running his hand up and down it, trying his best to soothe you to sleep.

---

So..what do we think?

[tradgedyinwaves]

First Choice - Part 4

Part Four of this Poly141! x fat!reader tw: social anxiety, self-doubt, drinking, more touchy-touchy, reader thinks about sexual acts

In celebration of 200 followers, this part has way more than 650 words. More like 1600. :)

Conversation flowed easily with them despite their sole focus being on you. At some point, Kyle’s hand had drifted onto your thigh, fingers pressing into the flesh gently. John’s arm had slipped from the back of the booth and now rested around your shoulders. You couldn’t be sure, but it seemed Johnny couldn’t keep his feet still and kept tapping yours under the table. The only one who couldn’t seem to relax was Ghost, sitting almost across from you. 

His eyes never left you and he mainly seemed to communicate in grunts. At least, he was drinking this time, his glass now empty of his own whiskey. You were careful not to drink too much, not wanting to embarrass yourself in front of these beautiful men. But it didn’t keep you from relaxing and feeling the warmth of the two next to you. 

Pulling out your phone, you checked the time and groaned. “I really should be going. It’s been great,” you announce, looking to Kyle to move so you could slide out from the booth. “Aw come on. We’re having so much fun. Just a wee longer?” Johnny asks and you turn to him, finding yourself giving in almost immediately. Damn the puppy dog eyes. 

“Only a bit longer,” you concede and relax back into the seat. This time when Kyle’s hand lands on your thigh, it’s higher and the heat is searing through your jeans. You let out a soft sound, biting your lip as his hand starts slowly caressing your thigh up and down. He’s not even looking at you when you look up, already deep in conversation with Johnny about some sports game you had no clue about. 

John’s arm settled back over your shoulders, pulling you slightly closer so his hand hovers over your breast and you can feel the hair of his arm on your bare collarbone. Your breasts jiggle slightly with your laugh when Johnny makes a joke and you don’t miss the way his pupils dilate ever so slightly before darting back up to your face. He, at least, has the decency to blush, the faint pink color tinging his cheeks. 

When the crowd in the bar starts to thin out and you realize even your friends have left for the night, you’re yawning in your seat and now leaned completely against John with his thick arm draped over your shoulders. Kyle’s hand is now tucked between your thick thighs, the side pressed as tightly to your core as he can get it and you hope to whatever higher powers that be that he couldn’t feel the radiating heat or the damp spot that had soaked into your panties. 

“Okay, okay. I really do need to go now. My friends aren’t even here anymore and that’s saying something,” you chirp, suddenly very awake and aware that you’re in an almost empty bar with four men you’d only met that night. They all look at you like they’d rather eat sawdust than let you go and you feel a warmth creep over you. 

“Ahw, bonnie, we couldn’t let you go home on your own. Let us take you home,” Johnny chimes in, soft smile and kind eyes that hold a hint of something else in them. You swallow, looking between each of them. Your gaze lingers on Ghost for a while, noticing the man’s eyes had almost never left you.

“Yeah, alright. Let’s go. It’s not a far walk,” you reply, biting your lip at the reckless decision. These men could be serial killers and you were just inviting them to know exactly where you live. “Why don’t you let Johnny and Ghost take you home? Kyle and I can follow in our truck so they’re not stuck walking back here,” John offers, a warm smile curling up the thick mustache. 

At this point, you’re ready for bed and just want to get home. “Sounds good to me,” you reply though the words are manipulated by a yawn. All of you shuffle out of the round booth, both Kyle and John kissing the top of your head like they’d known you for years before disappearing out the door. You wrap your jacket around you again, pulling the zipper together over your belly and getting a little frustrated when it gets caught up on your shirt. 

“Lemme,” Ghost grumbled, stepping up to you and taking hold of the jammed zipper. It’s the first time he’s spoken all night and it almost stuns you how deep and growly it is. Your breath hitches as he grabs the zipper, yanking on it and subsequently making your breasts bounce as he accidentally pushes against them. He gets it undone and you mutter a bashful ‘thanks’ before turning on your heel as you finish zipping it up to your throat.

You know they’re meant to be escorting you home, but you’re out the door so fast the two men have to jog to catch up. Johnny’s arm wraps around your waist, fingers pressing into the pudge of your stomach in a way that makes you want to shrivel up. You don’t like anyone touching your stomach, but you’re warring with yourself on whether or not to move his hand, to show that kind of discomfort in front of these men. 

You choose to do so anyway, wrapping your fingers around his and lifting his arm up over your head and ducking under it, dropping it at his side. Johnny looks down at you with a furrowed brow. “Don’ like it when people touch you, do you?” he asks as he shoves his hands in his pockets. He doesn’t look bothered that you’d removed his arm, but your anxiety rears its ugly head and makes you worried you’d offended him. 

“It’s not that I don’t like being touched. It-It’s…complicated. I-I don’t want to talk about it,” you manage to stammer out before picking up your speed. It’s not like you’re going to shake off your two guard dogs whose legs are easily longer than yours by several inches, but you take off anyways. 

When your building finally comes into view, you slow your pace and breathe a soft sigh of relief. Your bed was so close, just a few more yards and you could get rid of the guard dogs and curl up in bed. “Well, this is me. Thanks for bringing me home. I really appreciate it.” You were grateful that they’d walked you home. It wasn’t safe this time of night to be wandering around in this part of town. 

“We’re walking you to your door, bonnie. Wouldn’t want someone to snatch you up between here and there,” Johnny stated, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. You wanted nothing more than to sink into the scent of him, warm and tingly to the nose like oranges and nutmeg, but you shook your head and backed up to the door of your building. “There’s really no need. My neighbors are great.” Lie. Absolute fucking lie. Nestor at the end of the hall on the first floor would, no questions asked, rip you from the hallway if he saw you alone. A chill went down your spine and you conceded the moment you looked into Ghost’s eyes. You didn’t have a choice if they were escorting you all the way up. 

You turned and opened the door to the building, looking down the hall to make sure Nestor was in his apartment before slipping in and letting the boys in behind you. You headed to the elevator and punched the up arrow, biting your lip as you tried not to wither under the intense stare of the man in the mask. The elevator had been the selling point for you. It was the only place within your budget that had an elevator and you weren’t about to walk up five flights of stairs multiple times a day. 

The lift dinged and you stepped inside, Ghost and Johnny slipping in behind you just to stand with their bodies pressed against your back. Unintentionally, you leaned into them before your eyes widened at your own movement and you straightened so your body pulled away slightly.

The doors dinged and opened allowing you to step out onto your floor. You headed to your unit, digging for your keys in your purse. With a ‘aha!’, you pulled them out and shoved the key into the doorknob, unlocking it. “Would you guys like to come in? I might have some whiskey left?” you offer, turning to look at them. You didn’t know why you were inviting them in, but the sense of safety you had around them had you desperate for them to stay. 

“Sure, lemme text Price and Kyle where to come. Go on in, Si-Ghost. I’ll come in in a minute,” Johnny stated, already pulling his phone out and going to stand next to the window at the end of the hall. You opened the door and allowed Ghost in, leaving it unlocked so the others could join once they arrived. 

Heading into your kitchen, you stood up on your tippy toes, reaching up so you could pull out five of your good glasses. You were looking for the last one, but it was just out of your reach. Suddenly, you felt what could only be Ghost against your back, pressing you against the counter as he leaned over you to grab the glass. 

The heat of him against your back has your thighs clenching together while you watch his thick digits wrap around the glass and you wonder briefly what they’d feel like inside you. He takes a step back once he has the cup and holds it out to you. 

You turn back to him while trying to fight off the blush coloring your cheeks. You murmur a thanks and wrap your own fingers around the glass. 

Of course, that would be when the other three burst loudly through the door.

I wasn't intending for this to become a whole story, but it's really stuck with me over the last week or so.

<- Part Three Part Five ->

[prettyfastcars]

like animals | Dark!Mob!Lando

Summary: A few months ago, you made the mistake of hooking up with a handsome, mysterious stranger. It was his pretty eyes and boyish face that pulled you in, and it was the wine that gave you that manic confidence it took to hold his hand and let him lead you to his car. One night with him, no strings attached, no more expectations. Just one night, that was the deal. But then he went and got addicted and obsessed. For months now you were constantly having to move to get away from him. After all, he wasn’t just any guy. He was dangerous, and feared, and bad news. So you ran, and he chased. And deep inside, you knew it wouldn’t be long before this cat and mouse game turned into an actual game of hunter and prey. 

Themes: stalking, obsessed!lando, smut, mild degrading kink, fluff?

Your hands shook as you reached for the carefully folded piece of paper on your bed. 

You didn’t put it there. And the mere thought of who might have left it there for you to find was making your whole body shiver. 

No. No. No. 

He couldn’t have found you so easily. You had been so careful this time. After months of living on your friends’ couches, moving back home, moving back to your apartment in the city, living in hotel rooms, you had finally made the choice to come spend some time up on the mountains, in the small cabin your parents owned. 

All that just to get away from him. 

And you had been careful this time. You had made sure to pay for everything in cash, you didn’t tell too many people where you were going to be. And this place was meant to be safe. There was a small town not too far from the cabin. And a cop car often made rounds all over the place. This was supposed to be a safe place. 

But looking at the note, your blood froze. 

‘You’ve got to stop running, babygirl. You know I’ll always find you.’ 

Fuck. 

He was here. 

You looked around, forcing yourself to focus and see if you could hear any noise inside your home. You looked out the window and saw that the sun was setting, it would get dark and cold outside, there were no neighbours around, you were alone up here. 

And he was here. You had nowhere to go. You could always barricade yourself inside the cabin but chances were he was already inside, hence the note. 

This was his favourite game. He left notes all around you for you to find, and each time you found them you ran away. And he chased. 

Damn you for falling for the charms of a stranger that one night. Things in your life would be normal if you hadn’t slept with him that night. But fuck, he was so sweet to you. So charming. So good. His touch was… electric. He was so gentle with you. 

But only when he dropped you home the next morning did you realise who he was. Your friends were waiting for you that morning, worried sick and furious that you would even leave them without saying anything and go home with a guy that dangerous. 

“Dangerous? What do you mean?” You had looked at your girls, suddenly feeling stupid. 

One of them shoved their phone into your hands and you looked at the article on the screen. Headlines and words screaming at you. Mob boss. Arrested. Criminal. Dangerous. Followed by pictures of Lando being either arrested, or released. Cops all around him, like he was more of a celebrity in his expensive suit, curly hair and that damn smirk on his pretty face. In some pictures he even had a bleeding lip, like he got punched, but even then he faced the cameras with a smirk. He even winked in some pictures. 

Shit. 

And ever since, you’d ghosted him. All his messages and calls were ignored, and he wasn’t having it. So he began showing up at places. Your front yard, your gym, your favourite food spots, he was everywhere. He always wanted to talk to you, and you always ran at the first sight of him. 

Then it got bad. He stopped showing up, but his notes did. Which meant that he was finding a way to enter your apartment, your friends’ apartments, your parents’ house, and suddenly nowhere was safe and you refused to put anyone in danger.

Which is why you ended up here, in the middle of nowhere. 

And he followed. 

You crushed the note into a ball and threw it on the ground. That’s when you heard the footsteps. And it sounded like they came from the roof. You panicked and ran out of the room, down the stairs and froze once you reached the front door.

Because there he stood. Smiling at you like this was the most normal scenario ever. His face… It brought back memories of that night. How neither of you could keep your hands to yourselves on the way to his place. How that mouth felt against your skin. How warm and invasive his touch was, making you squirm, and purr under him. 

“There you are, baby. I’ve missed you.” He said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “We’ve got to stop this little game now, okay? Stop being difficult and let me talk to you.” 

And then there was that fucking voice. Gentle, but firm. 

You backed away as he took a step forward. “I’ll call the cops.” Your voice trembled as you spoke. Trying your best to sound confident and failing. 

He scoffed, “Oh don’t bother. I took care of everything. You’re not leaving here without talking to me. I’ve been trying to reach you for months now. This is getting tiring, baby.” 

“What do you want?” 

He shrugged, “Isn’t it obvious? You.” 

You swallowed, worried about whether he’ll let you walk out of here alive. “Look, I didn’t know who you were that night. And I don’t know what you want, but I…” You took a deep breath. “Just leave me alone, please. I won’t tell the cops, I won’t tell anyone. I promise.” 

He frowned, looking genuinely confused for a second. “You think I’m gonna hurt you?” He sighed, bringing his fingers up to his hair, running them through it in frustration, “Can we just talk? Will you just listen to me?” He took another step forward, and you took several back this time. 

“Please,” You begged again, looking around for a quick second, trying to see if there was anything you could use to defend yourself. Then you saw it. One of your father’s hunting knives, mounted on the wall. If you could just… 

Lando sighed again, like he was running out of patience as he looked right at you. His eyes staring into yours. The sun was nearly down all the way now, the cabin was getting darker and darker. The light drizzle outside was consistent. And the knife was not too close, not too far. If you ran towards it… 

“Come on now, baby. You’re a smart girl. Don’t do this.”  

Those words made you frown. Then you realised that he was looking at the knives on the wall as well. Shit. He could tell what you were thinking about. 

Then you did the dumbest, most predictable thing ever. You ran towards the knives, as did he. And he managed to grab you before you could reach for the knives. Pinning you to the wall, and pressing his entire body into yours, he chuckled as he secured your wrists above your head. 

“This is familiar, isn’t it?” He teased, his lips dangerously close to yours, surely referencing that night you two spent together. 

And you’d be lying if you said you weren’t thinking about it too. How good he felt, with his body weight pressing down onto you in his bed. How good he felt, moving in between your legs… fuck. No. You needed to get out of here. 

“Let go.” You murmured, looking into his eyes as you tried to free your hands from his grip but it was impossible. 

Again, he had that look on his face like his patience was running low. “Fine,” He growled, “You want to be difficult? You like our little game too much it seems, huh? Alright then, baby,” He abruptly let go of you and took a step back. He looked at you menacingly. “Go on, run. Isn’t that what you want? Run, then.” He leaned in just a little, staring deep into your eyes and added, “But the moment I catch you, you’re mine. Fair?” 

Think. Think. 

The back door was unlocked. And there was a shortcut to get to the town, but it was through the woods. Maybe if you could… who were you kidding? There was no outrunning him. This had to be a trap. But… if you somehow made it out and into the town to get help, what then? 

Timidly, you asked, “What if you don’t?” 

Lando gave you a smirk that made you a multitude of things. “If I don’t, you’re free to go.” He said, his voice as cold as ice and that borderline unhinged look in his eyes. “I’ll leave, and never bother you again.” 

Damn it. It was getting darker out, the woods would be dark, cold, and it would be hard to see but it was such a short way to get to the town. If you’d run for about eight to ten minutes, you could maybe get rid of him forever. 

You looked up at him. He was still smirking, looking relaxed and not at all bothered. Damn him! 

“I’ll give you a headstart.” He said, and this all became a horror movie really quickly. Even more so when he began counting down. “Ten, nine–,” 

You didn’t stand there to listen to the rest, you took off running. Running past him and further into the cabin, all the way to the back door. And you shivered when you heard him laughing behind you, his laughter echoing in the wooden cabin. Followed by his loud footsteps as he chased you. 

You pushed open the back door and took off. It was still drizzling. And the air was cold, but your heart pumped faster than ever, your legs flying to get you out of there. And as sick as it sounds, there was a part of you that knew that he enjoyed this. This was what he wanted. Dirty, animalistic, primal. You would run and hide, he would chase and when he’d catch you – you’d be his little toy. 

The rain was light, but you could feel the fabric of your clothes sticking to your body already. You were just in leggings and a sweater. You squealed as you finally made it into the woods. It was dark there. The sun had set and it would get pitch black the further in you go. 

The forest ground was covered in moss and mud. Your heart pounded as you stopped running for a moment and just listened. 

And there it was. The steady pounding of footsteps closing in. Then you heard him call out, “You’re in so much trouble when I catch you, baby. I tried to make this easy for us but you don’t want that, do you? Huh? You like torturing me, don’t you?” He yelled, and judging by the sound of his voice, he was still far away. “You fucking love making me work for it!” 

The whole thing made your heart race as you tried to put some more distance between you and him. The silence of the woods, the echo of his voice, the rain falling down like in slow motion, the way your clothes stuck to your body like a second skin, the adrenaline in your veins as you ran further away from him. 

And the anticipation of what would happen if he catches you. 

Right then, the memories of that night you spent with him came flooding in. His touch, his mouth, his hands, how he fucked you till you fell asleep in his bed. How he held you till the morning. All the sweet nothings he whispered in your ear, the ones that made your heart flutter. The one that made you come all over his fingers, his mouth, his cock… How he had you moaning and screaming the whole night… fuck. 

You gasped for air and you stopped for a moment. You quickly assessed your body. Your leggings were torn in places, due to being stuck to thorns and other plants. But other than that, you were okay. Come on, just a few more– 

You heard his voice again. And he sounded closer than earlier. 

“I’m not gonna hurt you,” He cooed. “I promise, baby. Just give me a chance. I’ll do anything for you, you know that? I just wanna fucking talk!” He yelled again. 

You took off running again, stopping every now and then to listen and try to gauge where he was. You were completely drenched at this point, running for your life like a madwoman. Trying to get away from your personal psycho villain. 

You tried to step on the patches of moss so he wouldn’t hear you. But you heard his footsteps, running, chasing and weirdly closer to you than earlier. 

“I hear you, baby.” He called out, chuckling like an actual villain. 

You gasped and ran faster… only to trip on a fallen branch and fall. You cursed before getting up, now with leaves and dirt sticking to you. You heard him. He was closer. Closer. You ran faster. Hoping to be able to somehow lose him and make your way out of the woods and– 

Right when you were about to make a sharp turn, Lando grabbed you by the elbow and tackled you to the ground. You both fell on a soft, wet patch of moss. “Caught you.” He growled, straddling your squirming body and pinning your hands above your head. “You did so well, baby. You almost got away.” He leaned down and whispered against your mouth, “Almost. You got so close too.” He trailed his mouth over to your cheek, “But now you’re fucking mine.” 

You were still breathless. Struggling. Hating how much you were thinking about how good it felt to be under him like this the first time. 

He chuckled, looking down at you. “Don’t lie. You liked it when I touched you, didn’t you?” 

You glared at him, the little bit of light allowing you to see how close his devilishly handsome face was to yours. “Fuck you.” 

He smirked. “Oh you liked it.” He leaned in, “When I touched you, when I tasted you…” He trailed off, scoffing, “But you didn’t let me get my fill, baby. And I want you. So fucking bad.” He pressed his body against yours even more. “Can you feel how badly I need you?” 

You gasped, feeling a prominent bulge pressing against your belly. And your mind went straight to filth. 

He laughed at the look on your face. “You remember now? Hmm? Are you wet for me?” He chuckled, “Should I check?” 

Angry and embarrassed, you spoke through gritted teeth, “Is this how you get women? By forcing them to–,” 

He shut you up by squeezing your cheeks with his cold hand, “Force you?” He questioned, and almost sounded offended, “Oh no baby, you’ll beg for it. I’ll make you beg, just like last time.” 

Not wasting a single moment, he grabbed your sweater at the neckline and tore it until your breasts were exposed. Making quick work of your bra, he almost growled again as he leaned down to take your nipple in his mouth, sucking and biting and alternating between the two of them.

You gasped and moaned and squirmed under him. Damn his mouth… 

The light rain didn’t stop. Drops of water constantly dripped on the two of you. You could hear it, the sound of the light rain falling on leaves. The grunts and groans coming from Lando’s mouth, the sound of your coerced moans, the chill in the air. It was all too much. 

Lando’s mouth moved from your breasts and kissed down your drenched torso until he reached your leggings, which he tore as well, diving in and kissing your inner thighs before sliding your underwear to the side and– 

You moaned shamelessly when you felt his warm, wet tongue lick up and down your folds. “Fuck… please,” You gasped. 

He chuckled, his tongue slipped past your folds and teased your entrance, occasionally flicking your throbbing clit mercilessly until you screamed. Your hands immediately gripped his hair and tugged gently at his roots. 

He licked and sucked relentlessly, “Told you you’d beg for it. You taste so good…” He whispered as he ate you out until you whined, throwing your head back and moaning at how good he felt. His warm mouth pressed against your most intimate part, his tongue stroking you. “I’ve missed you, baby. I’ve missed this.” 

He growled when your hips instinctively bucked against his mouth. You whined as the sounds he made reverberated through your entire body, causing goosebumps to erupt all over your body. 

“You think I didn’t try to move on? Hmm? You think I didn’t have girls throw themselves at me,” He spoke in between licks and kisses, “I tried, baby.” He reasoned. “I did. But the other girls, they’re not like you. I don’t want them. I just want you, I want my baby. And I’ve got you now.” He whispered, thrusting his tongue deeper into you. You moaned and whimpered, your body getting warmer and warmer with each touch of his tongue. 

“Please, please, please…” You chanted as you felt your walls tighten around nothing, and you knew you were close. 

You could only moan and whimper as he kept licking deeper into you, your back arching off the cold ground. You felt him quicken his pace and you felt the pressure building up in between your hips until you couldn’t handle it anymore, and you came undone all over his lips, moaning and whimpering. 

He tore the rest of your leggings and underwear off, leaving the ragged bits still around your ankles as his hand found itself around your throat. He parted your legs and settled in between them. You whimpered when you felt him undo his trousers and pull out his cock, leaving it there, just pressing against your folds. 

“Look at me.” He murmured. 

You opened your eyes and there he was, hovering above you. His face was so close you could see your wetness glistening all over his lips. You couldn’t hold back the desperate moan that left your mouth. 

“Look at what you’ve done to me.” He said, acting like this was all your fault. “You’ve turned me into a fucking animal, baby.” He moved his hips just the slightest, letting his cock brush against your clit in a way that made you want to cry out loud. 

“I didn’t do anything,” You argued, glaring at him. 

“Yes you did!” He persisted. “You’ve been messing with my fucking head,” He growled. “Stop fucking running away from me!” He bellowed. And for a second, even the insects around stopped chirping as his voice echoed. “Please stop,” He spoke again, softer this time. “I’ll do anything,” He said, “I’ll get you whatever you want, I’ll buy you anything, I’ll stop following you around just…” He exhaled, his warm breath tickling your cheek, “Just stop running from me.” 

You whimpered when you felt him push his cock into you without wasting a second, stretching you out just like he did that night. “Fuck…” You cried, letting him bury himself deep inside you. 

It felt so dirty, being fucked on the forest floor by a man like him. But you couldn’t lie and say that he didn’t feel fucking good inside you. 

“Poor baby.” He scoffed. “We could’ve sat down and had a nice conversation, then I would have taken you to bed. And we could’ve fucked nice and slow till the morning.” He pulled out and pushed back into you, making you moan even louder. “But no, this is what you wanted. Right? You liked being chased, and you wanted to be fucked like this? Hmm?” He questioned, knowing you weren’t in a headspace to answer him given his hand was around your throat and his cock buried so deep inside of you – he knew your brain was a foggy mess. 

And he was right because all you could so was whine and moan as he began fucking into you hard and fast. There was nothing gentle about it. He was wild like the surroundings, and passionate, animalistic, fucking you like there’s no tomorrow. 

He tightened his grip around your throat as he sped up into you, growling right in your ear, “You remember me now, baby? Huh? You remember this?” He chuckled. “Does it feel as good as the first time?” 

Yes. 

But you wouldn’t tell him that. His ego was already bigger than these woods. Not that you would be able to talk anyway. Not with his warm, clothed body pressing down on you. Something about you being almost completely naked while he was still dressed made the moment all the more filthy. 

You were a moaning mess under him, your hands instinctively finding their way into his hair as he fucked you nice and hard. It was overwhelmingly good, his voice, his weight on top of you, his cock thrusting in and out of you repeatedly… 

He released your throat and placed his hand on your abdomen, pressing down on your front so he can feel himself inside you with each thrust. He stared into your eyes while he sped up into you again. “There I am.” He said, thrusting into your extra hard to prove his point. “Deep inside you, right where I belong.” He smirked when your body squirmed under him.

You must’ve lost your mind. You should be screaming for help, not enjoying being fucked by him. 

“Are you going to come for me, baby?” He asked, surely feeling the shameless way you were clenching around his cock. “Yeah you will, won’t you? You dirty little slut,” He chuckled, “Look at you, you can’t even talk or think straight, can you?” He said, with pride in his voice. “No, you like being fucked in the middle of a dark forest too much.” He scoffed, “Go on then, come all over this cock.” 

He pressed his lips to yours as you came first, his mouth swallowing your moans as you let go and came with a muffled cry. 

He smiled into the kiss, “There we go,” He pulled away just barely, gasping for breath as he fucked you through your orgasm, close to coming himself. “I’m gonna fill you up nicely, baby. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Hmm?” 

You let out a choked moan as he came inside you, his body collapsing on top of yours as you both caught your breaths. 

But you couldn’t stay for long, the rain wasn’t stopping. 

– 

Lando managed to get you back into the cabin, and you didn’t fight him as he pulled you into the hot shower. You let him peel away the ragged bits of your clothes which remained on your body. You let him pull you close to him under the shower, but only for a moment. Once your brain fog went away, you tried to pull away and get out but he grabbed you and pulled you back in. 

“Don’t fucking fight me on this, you need to warm up.” He muttered, keeping a tight grip on your wrist even though you glared at him.  

“I wouldn’t need warming up if you weren’t such an animal.” You tried to twist your wrist out of his grip, but he only tightened it. 

“I didn’t hear you complaining earlier,” He pouted, like a brat who’s finally got his way. “Guess you were moaning too loud. I must’ve missed it.” 

“Fuck you.” You didn’t mind his body heat along with the hot shower. 

He smirked. “Round two for later baby, we need to get you nice and warm first. I can even make you some tea if you want.” 

“Get away from me, you fucking lunatic.” You said frowning, but made no move to actually get away from him. 

“Just let me help, okay?” He looked at you, water running down his face and chest. His curly hair now drenched. He stepped out for a second, wrapped a towel around his waist, and grabbed a large, fluffy towel. “Come here,” He said, holding the towel open. 

You glared at him even as you stepped closer and let him wrap the towel around you. He pulled you close again, like he was holding a giant burrito. 

“What do you want from me? Truthfully?” You didn’t have anything to give. You didn’t have that kind of money. 

“This.” He said, “This right here.” 

“Why me?” 

He sighed, “Because I have a thing for pretty women who pretend they hate me.”  

“I don’t pretend, i actually–,” 

“Shh. Stop fighting with me.” He cut you off. “Isn’t this nice? Hmm? See how good we are when we don’t fight.” 

“You’re insane.” 

“For you.” 

Ugh. So not just a lunatic, a clingy one.

[budd-ie]

I like to imagine Xie Lian checking in on heaven every once in a while for business or something and now that heaven barely has a central government and people are more relaxed without any one scary force up their asses all the time he sometimes comes back to some pretty weird stuff. After all, every god is a nosy drama queen and everything has the potential for a competition. Imagine if one day some smaller martial gods got bored and started an arm wrestling contest and whoever won started bragging about it which caused some other martial gods to want a piece of the action. Because every martial god is overly competitive by nature, this eventually gets weirdly out of hand and now the top martial gods are having the most legendary arm wrestling tournament in history. Xie Lian walks in in the middle of it, bewildered; “Oh, no thank you, I couldn’t possibly, I should be quick, San lang is waiting for me—“ he answers but a simple “come on, your highness!” and a recap of the latest events is all it takes to convince a top martial god to give it a shot.

Across the room, Feng Xin just obliterated another round and is on a crazy hot streak. His spirits are high and he’s ready for his next victim as he looks across the table, and the opponent in his view is none other than Xie Lian.

A cold sweat runs down his back.

Of course it ends with Xie Lian vs Pei Ming, the grandest showdown they’ve seen in a great while, and Xie Lian going home that night to that San Lang of his with another weird heavenly trophy to put in the display case they had to make for all these weird prizes he keeps bringing home from work. Who knew gods really are more idle than ghost kings!

[marcsburnerphone]

Bars and broken hearts

Simon Riley x F!reader 

Summary: The 141 minus john goes out for drinks and when johnny decides to throw simon a spontaneous bachelor surprise it goes left quickly.

Warnings: angst, betrayal, infidelity?, guilt, heartbreak, not a happy ending, alcohol consumption, lmk if I’m missing anything.

—-----------------

“Well I think you should go.” you say to your fiance who's currently trying to back out of plans he promised to attend with his mates, again.

“Why can't you just beg me to stay isn’t that what you’re are supposed to do.” he says in a whine although with a gruff voice like his only you could pick up on the slight change.

“And hear Johnny complain in my ear the next time I see him cause you’re never out of the house, yeah no thanks.” you say while stirring honey into your cup of tea. You can practically feel the holes his eyes are burning into your skull.

“You know they are always up to no good when we go out.” he says in a condescending tone.

“I trust you.” he has never given you a reason not to.

“You should they’d never let anything come between us, they love you more than me.” he says while slowly approaching you from the back planting a firm kiss to your cheek.

“So you’ll be attending then?” you say gleefully.

“Yeah, just this once though, gives me leeway to say no next time.” you laugh softly, simon and his thought out plans to get out of leaving home.

“I'll drop you off, don't look too good.” you say turning around, he gives you a strong kiss on the lips, tangling his large hand into your hair as his other hand squeezes gently at your ass groaning roughly as he hikes your thigh onto his waist.

“Yeah, nice try.” you say pushing him away reluctantly.

“Sure you don’t want me to stay?” You do want him to stay.

“I’m sure.” he groans, walking off into your shared bedroom carelessly pulling a black shirt and pants off a hanger, nearly snapping them.

You laugh to yourself taking a seat onto the couch as he noticeably makes his steps extra heavy on his way to the bathroom. You patiently wait for him, swiping mindlessly through social media.

“Right, I'm ready.” his voice slightly startles you and he quickly softens his attitude.

“If you would’ve kissed me looking like this i might’ve just kept you in.” you sigh into his mouth pulling him down for a kiss.

“Later I arrive, the later I leave, let's go.” you drive him to a pub not too far from your home. His hand squeezes at your thigh the whole way there until you arrive.

“I'll see you in a bit, I love you.” the corner of his mask lifts slightly.

“Better not be late for me doll, I love you more by the way.” he says while shutting the door waving you off.

—----------

“Aww where’s the lass?” Johnny questions still mostly sober.

“At home she said she’ll join next time.” Simon lies, you hate babysitting three 200 pound plus men after a long night.

“Tell her I promise to not empty my stomach in her car next time, I swear it.” soap says while ordering a round of shots.

“Like she’d believe that after the past TWO times.” Johnny looks remorseful as Gaz laughs then gags remembering what it was like to sit in the backseat with him.

“I feel like we're going to get into some trouble tonight.” Johnny says while downing his third shot early into the night. “When is a night with you not trouble?” gaz says to the two men smiling widely.

“When is a night with me not fun you mean.” Johnny says with a devilish smirk.

“Chaos you mean?.” Simon quips.

“All of those sound like a good time to me.” Johnny says while waving down the bartender again.

—------

“You’ll be approaching married life soon.” Johnny says with slightly slurred speech.

“Indeed I will.” It makes a tipsy drunk Simon smile as he lifts the bottom of his mask to take a swig of the whiskey in his glass.

“Think you’ll be having little ones running around soon?” gaz asks, he could see the big scary ghost with a daughter or two. Simon smoothens his mask before talking.

“Maybe, me and miss talk about it sometimes but nothing ever too serious, she’d make a great mum though.” The boys love just how in love he is with you.

“Will you name one of em after me?” Johnny asks.

“Funny joke mate.” They all laugh.

“Lass we’ll take another round.” heads snap towards him.

“Johnny!” Both simon gaz exclaim their nearly 8 shots in each and a couple of other drinks the result of tonight's starting to sound like alcohol poisoning.

“What’s wrong with a little fun once in a while.”

—---------

“I miss my wife.” Simon says, eyes glossed over and a severe need to taste your mouth. 

“Will we be throwing you a bachelor party?” Simon scoffs.

“This is my bachelor party, enjoy it.” Johnny groans at his awfully boring best lad.

“I have to take a piss be back.” Johnny says, excusing himself. Gaz and simon give each other a look knowing full well he went to the mens room less than ten minutes ago.

“What’s that about?” Gaz asks.

“Don't know but ima text the missus to come save me.” Simon says whipping out his phone instantly happier by the picture of you on his lock screen.

After sending you a quick text he agrees to one more round as Johnny rejoins, what he doesn't notice is as he tossed his head back Johnny slipped his phone into the back pockets of his jeans mistaking it for his own.

“Why do you look like that?” Gaz questions the mischievous smirk on Johnny's face.

“No reason.” 

“Oh no johnny what’d you do.'' They follow his eyeline as a woman, definitely a hooker walk from the hall where the bathrooms are definitely heading towards them. 

“Hey boys.” she says, running a hand down Simon's chest.

—----------

You’ve tried simons phone nearly six times now and nearly circled this block three times to let him know you’re here. You call once more groaning loudly as the voicemail starts once again. You search the busy street for parking, getting lucky as a car pulls out from the front of the pub.

You step out into the chilly london air not caring to pay for parking this shouldn't be long anyways. It's busier than you’d ever seen it, you wrap your arms tightly around yourself considering you're in thin pajamas, Simon emits too much heat to sleep in anything else.

Finding your way to the bar knowing where they usually sit you keep your eyes peeled for him excited to get him home and finish what he started earlier. That's until you see him. You see her first actually, snaking her hands around the back of his clothed head where yours were merely hours ago. His eyes are pointed towards her breast as she puts on quite the show, grinding slowly on his lap, flicking her tongue out onto his cloth covered ear. Simon’s hazed eyes are seeing you, like a dual reality that goes back and forth between a random woman and the woman he loves. Words are unable to leave your mouth so you stand there in utter horror until reality catches up to you.

“Simon.” your voice comes out in a whisper as the three men's heads turn towards you. The woman who looked like she’d been having a good time on Simon's lap also looks towards you, then the ring on your finger. The three of them had never become sober so fast in their lives.

“Oh god.” you feel sick, turning around quickly and bee lining for the door as your eyes tunnel vision.

“Get off me.” Simon says awfully harshly as Gaz looks disappointed towards johnny.

He’s after you in seconds, strides long and quick. You're at an arm's length when he tries to pull you back but misses by a thread. Times moving in slow motion for the both of you and this pub has never been so large.

“Wait, I swear that wasn't what it looked like.” His deep and loud voice causes the other patrons to look your way. Gaz and Johnny are steps behind him as he rushes as quickly as he can.

When the outside hits you, so do the tears. Your hand grips weakly at the spot of your shirt above your heart. It feels like the wind has been knocked from you and the world is crumbling around you. 

“Love i swear-” you turn around quickly slapping him across the face. It stuns you but not him; he simply looks back towards you.

“Deserved that.” 

“Lass it was a dumb joke i thought id-” 

“You were supposed to have my back, you guys are like my brothers, is this how it is everytime you come out?” a sob racks through you as they all visibly watch your heart break.

“It's not like that.” Simon tries to calmly explain.

“I'm leaving.” you say slowly walking backwards towards your car getting in quickly and locking the doors before your fiance can try the handle.

“Love, just listen to me i didn't know what was going on.” he shouts through the window as you start pulling out and speeding off as soon as possible.

“I’ll fucking kill you.” he yells to johnny.

“I don't know what I was thinking.” he admits as his drunk actions hit his sober self.

“You need to get a ride home now.” gaz says walking into the street to hail down an overly expensive taxi.

Simon gets in it immediately telling the man your address and slipping him a few extra hundred for speed. His breath is rapid matching the racing pace of his heart. The two other men watch as he leaves.

“You’re so fucked mate.” Gaz says to an already guilty looking johnny.

—--------------------

Simon nearly tears off the door handle as he exits the car almost two homes ahead and runs there instead. He’s fumbling keys until he realizes you’ve left the door unlocked. Instantly he's searching for you, panicked and in a hurry to soothe your aching heart.

He goes to reach for your shut bedroom door only to realize it's locked. He knocks rapidly once then twice.

“Love let me explain. I swear it's not what it looked like.” he leans his head against the door as you silently cry on the other side.

“Don’t do this to yourself.” wrong choice of words but he meant well.

Before he knows it you're throwing the door open.

“To myself!” you yell as loudly as you can, shoving your hands into his solid chest.

“That's not what I meant.” he says, removing the mask.

“We’re engaged Simon, we were going to get married in a few months.” you cry turning around trying to slam the door on him.

“Were ? No, let me explain.” he says, catching it with the toe of his boot.

“I don't want to hear it, go tell it to whoever that woman was.” you’re infuriating he wants to scream but he knows all hell would break loose had he caught you in the same position.

“Johnny had hired her, I had no idea.” he gets out as quickly as possible.

“And you let her dance and lick on you and hold you the way I hold you.” the disgust on your face as you look at him cuts deeper than any knife.

“I was drunk.” he even thinks that sounds disgusting.

“Cheap fucking excuse.” you say going into your closet grabbing all your clothes and throwing it onto the bed.

“What’re you doing?” it's hushed and laced with panic.

“Leaving.” 

“Like hell you are.” he says quickly, fighting to pull what's in your hands out of them. You’re unwilling to give up at first, grip tighter than ever but he would always win. You fall to the ground and let go. Crying from hurt and frustration. He drops to his knees to meet you on the floor.

He scoops you into his chest as closely as possible, it hurts that you don’t clutch onto him like you normally would. You Are stiff in his arms so visibly uncomfortable. He wants to cry too, he knew he shouldn’t have gone out there's no need when your heart is at home.

“Let go of me.” you say weakly.

“Lets talk.” he says, loosening his grip on you watching as you scurry backwards.

“Nothing you say can make this better.” you admit leaning your head against the wall behind you.

“It wasn't my idea or choice, my love I was wasted.”

“I was waiting outside for you, calling over and over again but you were just too busy being entertained by another woman, how fucking dare you.” you say quietly but firmly.

“I know I fucked up but we cant throw this away just cause one mishap.” he says trying to inch closer to you.

“I would’ve never done that to you.” you say as tears stream smoothly down your reddened cheeks.

“I know.” how does one forgive an action like this he wonders.

“Please get out.” you say through stuttered breaths.

“Love-” 

“Simon, get out or I'll leave.” He rises to his feet in an instance beginning to very slowly make his ways towards the door.

“Hey simon.” you say and his name sounds so rare on your tongue since you've met him he's always been riley or love.

“Yeah.” he says, approaching you crouching down slightly. You reach out, grabbing his hand and placing something into his palm before closing it.

Simon slowly opens his hands fearing what he already knows is there and utterly cringes inside when he sees your ring.

--------------

excited but ready for a little criticism, be easy on me I'm barley getting familiar with the character.

Hope you guys thoroughly enjoyed mwah!

[bejeweledblondie]

so excited about you having your requests open. I love your page!!

can I please request: Simon Ghost Riley x wife!reader?

Ghost and the rest of tf 141 are on a mission and end up getting detoured by who ever they are taking out (Russians, Hassan, etc). They need a safe house and quick! Well it just so happens simons place is right near by and simon takes them. the reader is home alone and just got out of the shower, she heard a bunch of men downstairs and gets freaked. In just her bathrobe, reader takes one of their safety guns and goes to defend herself against the “intruders” but really it’s just simon and gang

(sorry if this is long I got excited)

please and thanks

Hello! I’m so happy you’re enjoying my blog! I do apologize for the delay I was hospitalized for a lung infection (shit sucks dude I felt like a Victorian child dying of tuberculosis) but I’m all good now! So enjoy!

Simon “Ghost” Riley x F! Reader

Summary: After their mission becomes compromised Task Force 141 has to take up shelter in a safe house or the Riley Family home much to the surprise of Mrs. Simon Riley

Warnings: innuendos

“Come on I know a place.” Ghost grunted through his skull faced mask. The Lieutenant begrudgingly huffed & puffed leading the rest of his teammates through the forest that lead to the cottage where his family resided. After their location had been compromised Laswell ordered them to find a home in order to stay in where they’d go undetected. With them being only ten miles away from the cottage he called home with his wife, he knew it was the only option. Finally, after miles of hearing Gaz & Johnny complain about their feet aching they reached the wisteria ridden cottage.

He started to reach into his pocket & pulled out the key to his front door.

“Take your shoes off,” Ghost demanded. “We don’t want to track mud.” Photos of a very beautiful young woman in a wedding dress graced the walls of hallway leading into the living room. Simon could hear the water running in the upstairs bathroom indicating to him his beloved darling wife was showering.

“Simon, how do you know about this place?” Soap asked after he kicked his boots off. “I’m assuming you know the beautiful lassie in the photos.” Price chuckled to himself, knew about you. Simon had come to him to ask for advice on a lot of different things in regards to a marriage. His most recent was about children. It was just four months ago you had found out you were with child.

“Something like that.” Simon replied, & removed his mask. Gaz & Soap gave each other a glance knowing he must’ve felt very comfortable with his environment. A black & white cat rounded the corner out of the kitchen. He made a beeline for Simon & started to rub up against Simon’s legs. Bending down Simon grabbed the feline & started to pet him.

You had decided to run a shower, needing to wash away the grime of the day. Your current tired pregnant state made you incredibly drowsy. Resting your head against the cold tile you could’ve sworn you heard the door open. Chalking it up to pure exhaustion you ignored it. Then the all familiar sound of boots coming off by the front door made your head snap. You turned off the water, & dried yourself off. Wrapping yourself in your bathrobe & throwing on a pair of panties you grabbed the shot gun that laid next to the bed. If there was one thing Simon taught you was to defend yourself.

Slowly you started to make your way down the staircase shotgun pointed outwards. Once at the bottom you turned the corner into the hallway. Seeing the all familiar broad shoulders of your husband made you lower your shotgun.

“Si?” You asked clearly confused now cradling the shotgun in your arm. He turned around holding, Phantom your beloved tuxedo cat. “I thought you were supposed to be home in a few days.” You stated clearly confused.

“I’m sorry love, we needed somewhere to stay for a few days.” He replied. “Just until the heat dies down.” He gave you a kiss, much to the surprise of his teammates. “How the little one?” He asked placing one of his large hands on your lower abdomen.

“The usual,” You replied. “But overall we’re just fine.” Soap & Gaz stood there with their mouths wide open in shock.

“You have a kid?!” Soap asked.

“Back it up when did you get married?” Gaz asked. Price just stood there pinching the bridge of his nose at his teammates ruining the lovers moment. Simon holding his wife tightly now turned to face them.

“I got married three years ago, & we’re expecting our first child in five months.” Simon replied. “This is Mrs. Simon Riley, Y/N.”

“It’s so lovely to meet all of you.” You replied beaming. “Hi, John it’s nice to see you again.” You said waving at Price. Both Soap & Gaz looked at him shocked.

“What?!” John asked. “It wasn’t my responsibility to tell you.” Noticing your lack of clothing you excused yourself to change, & brought down old pajamas of Simon’s for the boys.

“The shower is open, & let me bake some cookies for you boys. You must be hungry.” You said. Simon took his usual spot on the couch & turned on Netflix. You loved taking care of Simon, he was the love of your life. The two of you depended on each other for everything. His job was a big stressor in his life & you wanted to make his home life as relaxing as you possibly could.

Soap, & Gaz were in seventh heaven in a world of hardened military men, the tender touch of a woman was exactly what they needed. Someone to just take care of them for a little bit to let them escape from the reality of their lives. Once the cookies were done you brought some plates out for them & then took your place right next to Simon on the couch. He pulled you in tightly, your head resting on his chest & his hand resting on your lower abdomen caressing the small bump. After a plate of cookies you both fell asleep on the couch. John himself was already knocked out in the little recliner that sat next to the couch his bucket hat covering his face. Gaz nudged Soap to look at their sleeping Lieutenant & his darling wife. It was so foreign to them to see him in such a soft state. They had seen him snap men’s necks the way you’d snap a Kit-Kat but here he was even in sleep being so gentle. Soon afterwards the two men also let sleep take over, letting the uncertainty of the situation become a problem for tomorrow.

[megalony]

Small Mercies

As requested, this is a new Eddie Diaz imagine that I hope you will all like. Let me know what you think.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra8484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @shelbygeek @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana

@shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @ml572 @jessie-lynn28 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700

@ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @itshamleth @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriter @reneinii

Eddie Diaz Masterlist

Summary: While Eddie is at work, he gets a phone call from his wife who is home with the kids. Someone is trying to break into their home.

Enjoy.

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

Eddie ran his fingers through his damp hair and gave his head a light shake, ridding the last few droplets of water from the shower. He could feel the steam clinging to his damp frame and making his work gear stick to him like a second skin.

He could feel a headache forming.

He didn't want to go to work. Eddie wasn't sure he had the energy to go to work on a double shift. He had about as much energy and willpower to get him from the bathroom to the bedroom, but he knew he had to get moving.

If he didn't want to be late to work, Eddie had to get a move on and say goodbye to his family and head down to the station in time for the shift change over.

With his hand still tangled into his damp locks, Eddie headed out of the bathroom that felt more like a sauna once he walked into the hallway.

It might of been a good idea for Eddie to take a nap this afternoon before the kids came home from school, but he had decided against it. Going for a nap during the day always made Eddie feel worse when he woke up. He found it easier to power through and go to sleep the next available night, no matter how many hours that meant he had to stay awake for.

Now it was almost tea time and he was going on shift and wouldn't be home until late tomorrow night.

"Chris, buddy I'm heading to work now." He pushed open the bedroom door and leaned against the frame, a soft smile pulling at his lips when he looked across at his boy.

Chris was laid out on the rug in front of his bed, legs kicking in the air behind him and pens scattered across the floor. He had a cake colouring book in front of him, a red pen tucked behind his ear and a deep plum pen twirling between his fingers. And his tv was on rather loud in the background playing a wide selection of music.

He lifted his head to look up at Eddie, as if only just realising his dad was in the doorway. He looked Eddie up and down, taking in his appearance and realising that he was dressed for work.

"I'm going now, I'll see you tomorrow after tea, okay?"

He dropped the pen in his hand and scratched the one from behind his ear so he could push up from the rug. His arms stretched out in front of him and he deadlocked them around Eddie's waist, burying his face in his dad's chest while Eddie leaned down to kiss the top of his curls.

"Love you."

"Love you too, be good for me." Eddie pressed a few more kisses against Chris's head before he unwound his arms and watched his boy flop back down to continue colouring.

He left the door ajar and turned round, but before he had the chance to try and head into the girl's room, Daisy already beat him to it. The four year old barrelled into his legs before he could move in any direction. Her arms bound around his legs and she tilted her head as far back as she could so she was grinning up at him with such a soft smile that it made his heart melt.

"You leaving, daddy?"

His eyes creased with a wide smile and he reached down to scoop her up into his arms, cuddling her into his chest.

"Yeah, flower, I gotta go to work. I'll be home tomorrow." He pressed a sloppy kiss to her cheek, grinning when she wriggled and squirmed in his arms and turned to kiss his cheek in return. "Be a good girl, hm? Love you." He knew he didn't have to tell any of the kids to be good, but he always did out of habit.

He set Daisy back down to her feet and shook his head when he heard her mumble "Love you more." She liked to think Eddie didn't hear her when she said that so she could have the last word, but he always heard her.

"Love you most." He watched her scuttle down the hall, presumably going to the living room so she could watch tv before dinner.

His eyes focused on the hem of his shirt which he tucked into his trousers while he headed into his and (Y/n)'s room. He could hear her humming and he already knew Rosie would be in there with her. He made his way into the room and a smirk flooded his lips when his eyes locked on his wife. He could see from her attire and her damp hair that she had just had a shower too; the light was on in the en-suite, confirming his thoughts.

(Y/n) was wearing one of Eddie's plain cotton shirts and a pair of his boxers that were glued rather shapely around her bum. And his shirt hung off her left shoulder as if giving him a sneak preview of what he was missing out on. But it was the way his shirt was bunched up over her hip and partly tucked into the boxers that made it hard to stay in control. He wanted to go over there and rip it over her head and drag the boxers down to her ankles.

He was suddenly glad he wasn't wearing his boots so he could make a quiet descent over towards (Y/n). As soon as he reached her, Eddie bound his arms tight around her waist and pulled her back into his chest. His lips attached to the side of her neck and he chuckled into her skin when she gasped and stumbled onto her back foot.

Her hands deadlocked around his wrists and her head flopped back on his shoulder. He could feel the deep breaths she took to try and calm down the panic he had rushed through her system.

"Eddie!" (Y/n) scolded quietly, slapping his wrist. He was lucky she hadn't been daydreaming or she might have screamed when he grabbed her. He was always doing his best to sneak up on her and he had gotten Chris into the same habit too.

The feeling of him breathing harshly and sucking at her neck had her knees going weak but when she looked at the watch strapped on his wrist, she knew he was going to be late if he stayed.

"I take it you're leaving now?" She turned her head to look at him but he caught her lips in a kiss instead, and she could feel his hands slip beneath her shirt. His fingertips traced over the curve of her hips causing her to shiver and she felt his fingers trace lower and dip past the waistband of his boxers she was wearing.

His shift was going to feel like a week instead of a day with (Y/n)'s image burned into his mind like this.

"Wish I wasn't." He muttered into her neck, trying his best to sink his teeth into her skin and leave a mark.

His hands squeezed her hips and he pulled back enough so that (Y/n) could turn around in his arms so she was facing him. A tender smile lit up her face and had Eddie's knees going weak and he leaned forward, diminishing the gap between them so their chests were glued together.

"Me too," Sincerity flooded her voice while she cupped Eddie's face in her hands and pecked his lips again before she tried to wriggle out of his arms so he could get ready.

It didn't work. His hands slipped lower into the boxers she wore until both hands had a grip on her bum and he stepped closer, pressing every ridge of his body against hers. When he dug his fingers into her flesh, (Y/n) rolled her lips together and pressed her nose against his cheek.

Maybe she should walk him to the door to make sure he actually left. It wouldn't do him any favours to be late to work when he had a clean track record so far.

Her lips parted into a gasp when she felt Eddie try his luck to walk her backwards towards the bed.

"If you wake her, you deal with the tantrum." (Y/n) warned with an arched brow, talking in hushed tones against his cheek before she dipped her head towards the bed.

Rosie was having a nap.

The toddler had finally settled and (Y/n) wanted to let her sleep for a bit longer before she had to wake her up for her tea. But if Eddie was going to wake her, he could take the time to settle her back down if she started to cry or get grumpy. She hadn't settled for a nap earlier at lunch so this was her first nap of the day which she desperately needed.

The one year old had been fussy all day, but she had finally managed to settle and had fallen asleep in the middle of (Y/n) and Eddie's bed. She was laid across both pillows with a teddy tucked up against her chest and a blue pacifier between her lips. And (Y/n) wasn't going to let Eddie wake her accidentally and cause (Y/n) another hour of pacing the house and rocking to try and settle her again.

Plus, if Rosie was asleep when Eddie left for work, it would cause less stress. The toddler hated it when Eddie had to leave. She would cry when he kissed her goodbye and she would reach out for him and try to follow him when he went out the door. Whereas if she woke up after he had gone, she didn't panic or get as upset.

(Y/n) cupped Eddie's face in her hands when he pulled away from her neck so he could look across at the bed. A fond smile pulled at his lips and his eyes softened when he looked at his youngest girl.

"I won't wake her." He promised against her lips before he leaned forward and stole another kiss. His tongue pushed past her lips and he leaned into the kiss until (Y/n) was tilting back at an angle. "Dios, I'd rather stay here."

"And I want you to stay, but you can't. I don't like being alone at night." (Y/n) curved her arms tighter around Eddie's neck and pushed forward so she could tuck her face against his skin.

She felt his hands give her a squeeze and he pulled her closer and attached his lips to the side of her head. He began to hum softly against her head and started to sway from side to side which made (Y/n) grin into his neck.

"I know mi amor." Eddie didn't like working nights. Not only did it screw with his body clock and mess with his sleep, it made (Y/n) nervous.

He knew she hated to be home alone. (Y/n) was naturally anxious and being home alone spiked that worry, she didn't feel safe unless someone was with her. And Eddie hated working nights because he knew (Y/n) had battled often enough with insomnia. It didn't help her panic either to be left home alone with three kids.

Insomnia heightened every sound outside. The branches tapping and rustling became intruders getting closer to the house. The wind sounded like someone whistling. The gate creaking sounded like someone coming up the drive and banging pipes in the dark sounded like someone breaking in.

"You'd better go, sweetheart." (Y/n) pecked his cheek and her eyes widened when Eddie actually unravelled himself from her. Was he actually going to walk out the door without a fuss?

Her heart softened and her lips rolled together to supress her smile when she watched Eddie move over to the bed. He planted one hand down on the cover so he could lean over Rosie and peck her temple.

"Bye baby girl."

He straightened up after running his fingers through her thin strokes of hair and headed back over to (Y/n).

"If you need me just call, I should be able to answer." He couldn't always answer the phone, but he tried his best. He would rather (Y/n) call him if something was wrong or she didn't feel great, then if Eddie didn't answer he knew to ring her as soon as he could.

(Y/n) tried to untangle herself from him again when he reached out for her because she knew he needed to leave so he wouldn't be late to the station.

But a gasp tumbled past (Y/n)'s lips when Eddie's hand reached up for the collar of her shirt that was halfway down her shoulder. With it being Eddie's shirt and two sizes too big for her, the collar was looser and easier to move. It let Eddie hook a finger into the collar and drag it further down her arm, exposing her bare chest to his prying eyes.

(Y/n) tilted her chest back just as Eddie's lips attached to her cleavage. Both her hands moved to his shoulders and she gave him a strong push until he had to reel back up and disconnect from her chest. She dragged the shirt back up her shoulder, hiding the view he had given himself which made him groan.

"Go to work before you wake the baby." Even though Rosie was one and a half now, they were inclined to calling her the baby because she was their youngest.

She gave him a gentle nudge until he was walking backwards out the room, his arms back around her waist with his elbows digging into her hips. Her hands reached up to rub across his chest and she continued to nudge him backwards while he stole kiss after kiss from her lips like it was the last time he was going to see her and he was getting his money's worth.

Eddie moved one arm behind him to unlock the front door and grab his keys from the lock. When the door opened, he begrudgingly let (Y/n) push him back until he was over the threshold like a lovesick puppy waiting outside for her.

His lips curved into a deadly smirk that flashed his teeth when (Y/n) cupped his face in her hands and tugged him down to press a feverish kiss to his lips. She let him swipe his tongue across her lower lip, begging for entrance before she pulled back, mumbling a quiet 'I love you' and 'goodbye' against his lips before giving him a final nudge out the door.

He needed to go to work and she needed to get the kid's tea ready.

***

Reaching her hand across the bed, (Y/n) feathered her fingers over the cover and up towards the pillow.

Cold. Empty.

Of course it was empty; Eddie was at work tonight. He wouldn't be back until tomorrow night, probably after the kids were all in bed by the time he finished his shift and got showered at the station before leaving.

(Y/n) didn't like the nights where Eddie worked during the night, she didn't like an empty bed. She liked to hear Eddie's soft breathing that worked as background noise to get her to sleep. She liked to feel the cover being stolen and tangled around his legs as he twisted from left to right. Or the feeling of an arm draping over her waist or a nose tickling her neck and tucking into her shoulder. All of that compared drastically to being curled up, alone in the bed.

She tucked her face down into the pillow and shuffled into the middle of the bed. It was entirely strange to have the bed to herself, without Eddie or at least one of the kids sneaking in to lay with her.

Sleep pulled at her mind as she curled up on herself, wishing the night away. (Y/n) was tired enough that it shouldn't be a problem falling asleep tonight like previous nights where she laid awake.

(Y/n) could feel her head slowly spinning and twisting from left to right in that usual manner that signalled she was going to fall asleep at any moment.

Until something shattered.

Her body jolted upright in bed and her hands scrunched up in the bedsheets. A shiver tore down (Y/n)'s spine as she tried to blink through the darkness, forcing her brain to clear from the fog rolling in and set her ears to work.

What smashed? Was it just (Y/n) imagining things? Once or twice she thought she heard something as she drifted to sleep, but Eddie had never heard it so she always presumed it was a dream about to start that woke her up.

But she knew she heard something this time. Had Chris or Daisy gotten up for a drink and dropped a glass or knocked into something? Perhaps something had happened at work and Eddie was coming home early for some reason. That didn't seem liable. Eddie hadn't been gone more than seven hours, and if he was coming home he would of called (Y/n) first.

Another rumble of glass breaking caused (Y/n) to cringe and coil her legs up to her stomach. Whatever it was, it didn't sound good.

Her legs turned to jelly as she swung them over the side of the bed and slowly got out of bed. She switched on the lamp and coiled her arms to her chest, forcing herself to take steady breaths as she tiptoed to the bedroom door.

It took a lot of willpower for (Y/n) to try and open the door as slowly as possible so it didn't creak or make a sound. She put one foot into the hall and tried to peer round. It was too dark to see anything and (Y/n) gulped, holding her breath as she inched a few paces down the hall, staying as close to the wall as she could.

"Oh no."

The window beside the front door was smashed. Glass littered the hallway. One of the picture frames on the side table had been knocked to the floor. And the street light outside illuminated the front door enough for (Y/n) to see a large stocky frame at the door.

Someone was trying to break in.

Why now? Why tonight of all nights, when Eddie was out at work and (Y/n) was home alone with the kids?

Why their house? What was so special about their home that someone thought they should try their luck breaking in at midnight?

(Y/n) could feel sweat coating her palms as she pressed them against the wall and tried to keep her front flush against the wall to blend in with the dark night shadows. Her knees quivered and threatened to give way as she shuffled along the corridor, afraid to take big steps in case a floorboard creaked and gave away that someone was awake in the house.

Her hand shook as she slowly twisted the handle on Chris's door and she stumbled into his room, gliding across the carpet until she could plonk herself down on the side of his bed.

"Chris? Baby, baby wake up." Her voice was higher in tone than usual but as quiet as she could be without croaking or going silent.

The ten year old gasped, jolting his head forward and reaching a hand out to grab (Y/n)'s arm in shock. The pitch black of the room gave away that it was still night time. He wasn't waking up late for school, it didn't feel like he had even been in bed for that long so he wasn't sure why his mum was vigorously shaking him to wake him up.

"Mum?"

"Shh, baby I know it's late but I need you to get up and go into my room. Now."

"Why?"

Chris sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. What was going on? Was someone sick? Did they have to go somewhere in the middle of the night? The only time something like this had happened was when (Y/n) went into early labour with Rosie during the night. Chris had been abruptly woken up by his dad and told to get his shoes on and get in the car to go and stay with Buck. This wasn't remotely the same as that.

He went to reach out for his glasses on the side table, but he gasped when his mum reached forward and held him beneath his arms. She got up off the bed and lifted him with her to get him on his feet.

He heard her whisper "Emergency," as she kissed the top of his head and ushered his sleepy, stumbling frame towards the open door.

Chris grabbed the doorframe, unable to see properly in the dark, especially without his glasses. But when he stepped into the hall, he couldn't help but look to the right when he heard something pound on the front door.

Tears welled up in his eyes before he understood what was happening and he let his mum usher him into her room. His arms bound around his chest and he stood near the end of the bed, shaking on the spot while he watched his mum scurry into the girls' bedroom.

"Daisy, Daisy, up sweetheart. Go to mummy's room quickly for me."

The four year old grumbled in discontent, but she didn't argue for some reason. She let (Y/n) lift her out of her bed with the Fireman Sam bedding and she cuddled her teddy to her chest as she swayed and stumbled towards the door. She seemed to believe she was going to sleep in bed with her mum tonight and didn't quabble.

(Y/n) watched Daisy pad across the hall before she leaned down into the cot and scooped Rosie up. She cuddled her youngest to her chest, smothering her lips against the top of Rosie's head to try and calm herself down and she rushed back into her room and shut the door.

"Mum?" Chris reached out to hold her arm, pushing into her side for comfort and security because he felt utterly terrified.

"Daisy off the bed. Everyone in the bathroom please."

"But I don't-"

"Now." (Y/n) hissed and nudged Daisy in front of her before her daughter had chance to tell her she didn't want nor need a bath. She'd had a bath before tea time and she had been in bed, since when did they get a bath in the middle of the night?

(Y/n) snatched her phone from the side table and ushered the pair of them into the small en-suite that adjoined her and Eddie's bedroom.

She went to turn the light on but stopped herself. The light automated the extractor fan. Whoever was trying to break in would be able to hear it when the house was this quiet and (Y/n) had no idea if it was just one person trying to burgle them or not. There could be someone outside who would notice if she turned the light on.

She opted instead to turn on the small LED light over the bathroom mirror, it wasn't much but it was enough.

Once Chris and Daisy were inside, (Y/n) quietly pushed the door shut and turned the lock. Her eyes scanned around the small space. Nowhere to hide, no advantage points.

"Okay…" (Y/n) could feel her body shaking as she carefully knelt down on the floor next to the kids and eased Rosie down onto the bathmat. The toddler was starting to stir. "In the bath for me."

"I don't want one." Daisy's voice was meek and she rubbed her eyes again. The darkness was making her want to fall back asleep but once a loud bang rickoted through the house, the little girl gasped and jumped against Chris. Both of them watched (Y/n) shudder and jolt against them.

The front door had swung open and hit the wall. That meant whoever it was had now gotten inside the house.

"We're not getting a bath, baby, just sitting in the tub until it's safe."

"Who's at the door?" Daisy's voice held no power or tone and she spoke in a whisper like she subconsciously understood the situation.

"I don't know."

Chris on the other hand, didn't say anything. He understood immediately and he knew they were in a bad situation. He scrambled to turn around and slowly climb over the side of the tub. He didn't like sitting in an empty bath, it was cold and it echoed badly, but he did as he was told. He opened his arms so that when (Y/n) carefully picked Daisy up and sat her in the tub, his little sister could sit between his legs and cuddle up into him.

(Y/n) eased Rosie back up into her arms and settled her on her chest with her face nuzzled down beneath her collar bone. She tried to stop herself from trembling, desperate to keep Rosie asleep because if she cried she would giveaway their hiding place.

She got up from the floor and carefully climbed into the end of the tub and sat on the little ledge between the end of the tub and the wall. (Y/n) had to tense her muscles to stop her feet from jittering against the bottom of the tub and she pulled the shower curtain across to hide them all. Not that it would provide much safety or cover, but it was the best she could do.

Each breath (Y/n) tried to take was shallow and raspy and it made her go lightheaded. She felt her chest tingling and her stomach flooded with adrenaline to the point she felt like she was going to be sick or somehow explode.

She felt Chris and Daisy edge close until they were both leaning up against her legs for protection and comfort.

With Rosie curled up into her chest, (Y/n) tried to hold her as best she could with one arm so she could get her phone from her pocket and dial Eddie's number.

Please pick up. Please answer me!

Eddie seemed like a safer bet than calling 911. She wanted Eddie to come home and help them. She needed him to know what was going on. (Y/n) didn't want the headache of whispering and probably crying to a dispatcher. Trying to tell them her name and address and how many people were in the house was going to be much harder than simply calling Eddie for assistance.

"Amor? It's late, is everything okay?" Eddie's voice was like music to (Y/n)'s ears and she felt a tear trickling down her cheek as she silently thanked him for answering so quickly.

He wasn't used to a midnight call like this, not unless they had been texting beforehand. This meant something was wrong, Eddie knew (Y/n) wouldn't just ring him out of the blue, late at night like this when he was at work. He could feel his heartbeat picking up already at the thought of what he was about to be told.

"Eddie, I think- I think there's a burglar."

"What?"

"I can hear someone, and one of the windows has been smashed. Please, please can you come home?"

This was one of his worst nightmares. Something happening to his family while he wasn't there. It had been his fear when he was in the army and (Y/n) was pregnant. He worried something would happen to her or she would have the baby without him. He worried being in another country entirely and not on the end of the phone if someone broke in and hurt his family. He feared not being able to be there if they were hurt or frightened and needed him.

(Y/n) could hear him cursing in the background and she could make out the sound of his boots hitting the floor as he started to breathe deeper, indicating he was now running somewhere.

"We're coming now, okay? We're on our way and I'll get dispatch to send a squad car down. Where are you?"

"We're all in the bathroom." (Y/n) kept her voice quiet when she heard something clattering in the house. It sounded distant which meant whoever it was, they weren't in the hall or near the bedrooms.

That might give them some time to stay here undetected while Eddie and the team rushed down to help them.

They had never been burgled before. (Y/n) had never woken up to someone trying to break in or someone coming in and attacking her. She'd never had to hide the kids with her like this and call for help. Their house back in Texas had been out the way and their only neighbours were Eddie's parents and a little old couple in the next property line.

This was a nice house in a safe neighbourhood. Break-ins didn't happen round here.

"I'm on my way amor, I swear. I'll be there soon."

***

Eddie didn't wait for the truck to roll to a stop. Once they were outside his house, he flung the door open and jumped down, bracing his knees upon landing so he could take off into a sprint.

He could hear the rest of the team calling after him, but their voices drowned out in the night air. He didn't care for them telling him to hang back and wait. That was his home. That was his family. He wasn't waiting for the police to give the all clear, he was going in.

And by the looks of it, Eddie would guess that Athena had only just arrived on scene.

Bobby had called her to let her know of the situation and ask for back up and Eddie had seen her and her partner head inside his home. He was going in now, he was going to find his family and make sure they were alright.

"Eddie!" Bobby's voice hissed behind him as the Captain followed him up the garden path and in through the front door.

The lights were off, Eddie wasn't sure whether he was expecting it to be dark in the house or not, but it unsettled him either way. He saw Athena's partner looking round the seemingly empty living room and he skidded down the hall to follow Athena into the kitchen.

He hung back a step, mostly because Bobby's hand found his shoulder and squeezed tight, as a warning.

They both watched as she flicked on the light and pointed her gun at the tall figure stood near the sink.

Why was this person in the kitchen? There was nothing of value or interest in here. What was he planning to steal, the pots and pans?

He didn't have a bag or a rucksack to put any valuables in. There didn't look to be any ornaments missing in the living room from the sneaking glance Eddie stole. The only damage so far was the busted window and broken picture frames near the front door which had dented the wall when it swung open. If this was a robbery, it was carried out by a very bad thief.

"Hands where I can see them." Athena's voice was calm but stern with a demanding tone that rung out through the air.

The stranger spun round a little too quick for himself and his head swayed back as he stumbled, steadying himself at the last moment by leaning on the island counter.

Eddie narrowed his eyes, his lips curling as he studied the man who had broken into his house. He looked drunk. He could barely keep his eyes open, he was swaying his head back and forth and his sense of balance was very clearly distorted.

"What are you doing?" Eddie couldn't help himself. He had to ask when he realised the man had one hand on the counter and the other was clutching one of the glasses from the cupboard.

"G-getting a drink?" The stranger hiccupped through his words which caused his head to snap back and his trembling hand let the glass drop down on the counter with a resounding clatter.

He was getting a drink? Was he being serious?

"Jesus Christ. You broke into my house for a drink?" Eddie couldn't help but tut as he dragged his hand through his hair and shook his head in disbelief.

This idiot had broken into his home, frightened his wife and kids, all so he could get a drink? Did he know whose home he had broken into? Did he have any clue what time it was, what was going on, or that there was indeed a young family in this house who were currently petrified while he tried to make himself a drink?

"You're house-" Confusion was clearly written across the man's face. A deep frown set in his brows and he turned to look around the kitchen as if he wasn't even sure where he was.

A deep sigh left Athena's lips as she clipped her gun back into her holster and exchanged it for a pair of handcuffs.

"Okay. You're under arrest for breaking and entering, let's go for a ride to the station. See if you can sober up."

He didn't reject the handcuffs. He let his head hang forward and allowed Athena to drag him from the kitchen, practically holding him up as he stumbled and swayed back and forth. He was drunk out of his head. Either he thought this was his home and he'd simply lost his keys, or he thought this was the home of a friend and he was fine to blunder in like this.

Eddie felt Bobby pat his shoulder and a silent exchange passed between them. This was a good thing. This wasn't someone trying to steal things from his home or attack his family or terrorise them. This man hadn't hurt any of Eddie's family and he hadn't approached them or even given them one thought.

This was the best outcome they could have hoped for.

With a shake of his head, Eddie twisted and jogged out of the kitchen. (Y/n) said she was in the bathroom. He needed to go in and tell them everything was okay if they hadn't already heard the team blundering into the house.

He could feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins and sending his hand shaking as he opened the bedroom door. He flicked the light on as he passed and slowed his steps when he reached the adjoining bathroom.

"Baby? Baby it's me, can you open the door for me?" Eddie rapped his knuckles on the door while his other hand clutched the doorframe tightly to try and keep himself under control. His forehead pressed into his arm and he could feel his foot jittering against the floor out of anxious habit.

He could hear odd sounds and things being moved about before quiet footsteps approached the door. And the way the lock slowly unclipped signalled that (Y/n)'s hands were shaking too.

Relief swarmed through (Y/n)'s stomach and caused her knees to quake when she peered through the gap in the door and set her sights on Eddie.

Tears streamed freely down (Y/n)'s face and she could see black dots twinkling in front of her eyes when she swung the door open and rushed forward. Her arms deadlocked around Eddie's neck and she meshed her face against his shoulder. The feel of his arm bound tight around her waist and his other hand curling around the back of her neck made (Y/n)'s breathing hitch in her throat.

He was here. They were safe. Everything was okay.

"Oh baby. You all okay?" Eddie smothered his lips against the side of (Y/n)'s head and slowly walked her backwards into the bathroom. He could feel her trembling in his arms and he worried if he let her go her legs might cave in.

"Did you get him? Who was it?"

"A fucking drunk, Athena's arrested him. He had no clue where he was, but I don't think he would of done anything if he saw you. Small mercies."

When his sights set on the bath, he could feel his heartstrings being cut, dropping his heart right down to the pit of his stomach.

The kids were petrified.

Chris was sat in the bath, slowly rocking back and forth to try and keep himself calm. He had his arms bound around Rosie who was sitting up between his legs, hand stuffed into her mouth as she sniffed, clearly about to cry. Chris had his cheek resting on top of her head, tears streaked down his face and panic written across his features.

Daisy was sat next to him, cuddled up into his side as much as she could with one hand around Chris's arm and the other binding her teddy to her chest.

Eddie eased (Y/n) down so she was sat on the side of the bath and he crouched down beside her so he could reach his arms forward for the kids. He carefully eased Rosie from Chris's protective embrace, pressing a kiss to her temple before he let (Y/n) take her from him to soothe her.

"Are you two okay?" He braced himself on the heel of his boots when Chris barrelled forward into his chest with his arms looped around Eddie's neck. And he moved his left arm out for Daisy when she whined and scrambled up to latch onto him too like she thought she was missing out.

"W-where's the bad man?"

"Bobby and Athena got him, it's okay. Everyone's safe now."

Eddie shifted his arms a bit lower down around each of them so he could lift them up from the bath. He held one kid in each arm, letting them burrow into his chest while he turned and headed into the bedroom, feeling (Y/n) walking close behind on shaking legs.

He eased them down onto the bed with a kiss to their foreheads and for a brief moment his eyes locked with (Y/n)'s when she sat down. He noticed how she was still shaking and her feet were tapping against the rug while she tried to rock Rosie up and down against her chest, but it was hard when she could barely keep her arms tight around the toddler.

But Eddie twisted to look behind him when Buck cleared his throat, a soft smile on his face as he stood in the doorway with Bobby. He tried to turn in their direction but he stopped when Daisy deadlocked her hands around his arm and pulled his arm into her chest with her teddy.

"Daddy no!"

"I'm just gonna talk to uncle Buck, I won't leave the room flower, I promise." He carded his fingers through her unruly hair and pressed a deep kiss to the top of her head.

It took a few moments for Daisy to debate and confirm that Eddie wasn't lying to her before she grumbled and let go of his arm. She didn't want her dad to leave her sights, he had to stay and keep them safe.

Eddie leaned against the doorframe, arms folded over his chest and his cheek against the door. They could both see that all the energy had been drained from him completely. The adrenaline was still rushing through his body, but he was losing the momentum he had earlier on shift. He had never had a phone call or a night like this before and he never wanted to experience it again.

"You'll need a new window, but we've broke all the glass out and drilled some wood there for now so it's secure."

"Thank you."

Eddie hadn't even thought or worried about the window or the front door when he got here. He just had to make sure whoever was invading his home hadn't managed to reach his family or hurt them. But he was grateful the team had bordered up the window pane, it was one less job for Eddie to do.

"I think you'd better stay home tonight." Bobby nodded his head in the direction of the bed behind Eddie where his family was waiting.

He didn't think it was wise for Eddie to come back on shift, not when his mind would only be focused on wondering if his family was okay. And leaving them after this while all of them were shook up wouldn't be in his best interests either. Eddie needed to stay here with his family and make sure they were all okay.

"We'll leave you to it."

"Call if you need anything."

"Thanks," Eddie ran his hand over his face and rubbed at his eyes before he headed over to the bed and crouched down, taking a quick glance at the watch strapped to his wrist. "Okay, it's way past bedtime. Everyone in while I go lock the door."

A strange look crossed Chris's face while Daisy took a deep breath and managed a small smile. She was the first to move, turning around so she could scramble up the bed when Eddie pointed.

There was no way Eddie was letting either of them go back to their own rooms just to lay there and panic. They would end up having nightmares or a panic attack. Even if none of them managed to get any sleep tonight, at least if they had all the kids in bed with them, all of them would feel safe and secure. And Eddie wouldn't have to keep getting out of bed every half hour to go and check on them and make sure they were okay.

When Chris shuffled up the bed, Eddie headed out into the hall. He made quick work of locking the front door and pulling the chain across, something he hadn't done in a while. He kicked off his boots and turned all the lights out as he headed back to the bedroom.

Part of Eddie wished they had a lock on their bedroom door. It would have felt a lot safer to lock the door and keep them all safe in here, but he would have to settle for knowing the front and back doors were both locked and his family would be wrapped up in his arms for the night. Probably for the next few nights if he was being honest. Daisy and Chris were going to be frightened and shell shocked after this. He couldn't see them sleeping in their own beds for at least a week or more.

There didn't look to be much room left in the bed by the time Eddie stripped from his uniform and headed over to try and climb in.

(Y/n) was on her side, Rosie cuddled up on her chest and abdomen, not quite asleep but well on her way. She had Chris laid next to her, already burrowed down under the cover with his head on (Y/n)'s shoulder, tucked up against her side. And Daisy was laid next to him, teddy deadlocked under one arm and her other hand reaching out for Eddie.

"You gonna let me in, flower?" He lifted the cover and waited for Daisy to wriggle so he could just about squeeze in beside her.

He didn't like the way Daisy shivered and Chris made a little disgruntled noise when Eddie turned the lamp off. The dark seemed to ignite worry in all five of them, even Rosie gurgled and started to wriggle around, unsettled.

A soft "Come're," passed Eddie's lips and he twisted to lay on his right side, pulling Daisy closer until she was burrowed into his bare chest. He could feel her pulling her knees up to her tummy and smothering her face into his upper chest like she was trying to curl up into a ball and make herself as small as possible.

With his right hand trailing up and down Daisy's back, he looped his left arm out over Chris and curled his hand around (Y/n)'s arm. Trying his best to keep hold of each of his family.

They were all tucked up together; they were all safe.

[bigassmoonchild]

Maple Syrup

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: All you needed was to contain the aphrodisiac, make an antidote just in case, and go home. But working with the 141 was never that simple, and now you and Ghost would find out how it worked. Up close and personal.

Content Tags: Vague kidnapping near the beginning, Sex Pollen, Smut, PiV Sex, Fingering, Fuck or Die, Mild Dubious Consent (consent is gained after pollen gets inhaled), No use of Y/N, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alpha! Ghost

A/N: Honest to god, I've been trying to write a story based on this thought alone. I can't even get it started but maybe this will get me. There also needs to be more Omegaverse written for COD, there can be some interesting stuff from it. Lmk if you want more of this, i'm exhausted <3 (p.s. I've changed the summary like, 10 times and idk how to feel about it)

Next, Headcannons, Masterlist

"Gaz, are we clear to enter?" Ghost asked into the comms. Gaz had gone into the building first, alongside Soap, to clear out the path you and Ghost would take. It was almost a straight shot, it felt too easy to get to the weapon you were there for. Maple Syrup, they had called it, even though it was an airborne weapon. You could hear a few shouts of a language, it sounded Russian but you weren't entirely sure, but you didn't have long to dwell on it as they stopped with a few gunshots.

Another few grunts came through before Gaz finally responded. "We're all clear in here, we still need to sweep a few rooms closer to Docs target, but you should be good to enter," he answered. Ghost nodded at you and led the way in, gun resting on his shoulder as he looked every which way. You knew it was a safety precaution, but you trusted Gaz.

You always trusted easily, it was in your nature. You were an Omega, and having trust in the people meant to protect you felt natural. You trusted your pack, even if you hadn't been a part of it for too long.

Maybe you shouldn't trust as easily.

Ghost shoved you into the wall next to you and started firing, bullets whistling past your ears as you ducked low. It reeked of sex, of Alphas and Omegas in heat or rut. Even through the military grade suppressant you could smell it, and it hurt. Ghost ducked around the corner, more gunshots echoing before a grunt came from him, and you heard the sound of a body dropping.

You didn't think before rounding that corner, seeing Ghost on the ground unmoving shook you. You ran your hands over him to feel for blood, but you couldn't see or feel anything. By the time you got to his shoulders, you found a needle trapped between his vest and arm, right in the meaty part of his inner-most shoulder. You plucked it off of him without thinking, tossing it to the side before pressing to feel for anything left inside.

You hadn't noticed the people advancing behind you, had ignored the calling from the comms or footsteps coming from the same direction Gaz and Soap were supposed to be in, but you felt the prick of the needle on your back. With a shout, you fell forwards, catching yourself from falling face first into the ground. You attempted to crawl forwards, get away from the men approaching from the back, but the medication they pumped into you caught up quicker than you could move.

It was with a groan that you sat up, swallowing thickly at the sickly sweet taste in your mouth. You tried wiping your face, but your hands moved slower than they felt, missing twice before wiping the area around your mouth. Pulling your hand back, a thin, dark red coating came back on them. You blinked hard, trying to remember what you had come here for.

The Maple Syrup mist. You couldn't remember much else about it, your mind moving at about the same speed as the namesake for the pollen-like substance. It was airborne. You knew that. There was something especially dangerous about it that a lot of the countries who knew about it wanted it gone. You were hired to make sure that no matter what happened, there was an anti-dote for it.

Something like that.

You blinked back into it when the door to wherever you were creaked open. You glanced up slowly, blinking at the men who entered and grabbed you, speaking loudly at you. What were they talking about? It wasn't Russian, you hadn't been in Russia or near any of their allies when you'd been grabbed.

You wouldn't understand it, your mind was moving at half the speed they were dragging you at. A few twists and turns, some scattered conversation floating around, and being dropped twice was what it took for you to be tossed into a similar room as your first. You laid face first on the ground, the cold helping to clear your head slightly.

Small cramps started in your back, twinging you every few seconds. A voice came over a loudspeaker, whatever they were saying it was something they were very pleased with. You turned, slowly, onto your back before crawling backwards to lean onto the wall behind you.

Maple Syrup. What the hell about it was so important they sent the 141 after it? Something something, military grade suppressants. The suppressants. Maple Syrup could break through military grade suppressants. You groaned, the cramps moving through your back and into your stomach. You could feel the heat, all-encompassing, starting to wash over you.

A loud, long creak echoed from the area to your left, and your head dropped to your shoulder as you turned it to look at the wall. A scent came wafting from the slowly opening crack in the wall, growing headier as the walls fully opened up. It was musky, with leather and tobacco, hints of the gunpowder you often smelled back on base. It made your mouth water.

The groan from the corner directly next to you startled you back into the present. As your eyes adjusted to the new lighting between the two rooms, a dark shape became clearer in the corner. A skull mask was lying tossed a few meters from it, and as your vision cleared up more, you could tell it was Ghost.

His head hardly moved as his eyes found yours, staring through you from beneath the balaclava.

"What's the verdict, Doc?" He grumbled, deep in his throat.

"Dosed with Maple Syrup," you whispered back, and his head fell back down between his legs.

A short, harsh sound came from him, it had to be a laugh, "then what's gonna happen to us?"

"When was your last natural rut?" You looked at him, licking your dried lips. You could see his head move sharply from your peripheral, his eyes flittering up and down. He shook his head, another dry laugh coming from him.

"It's that bad?" You nodded. "Probably since I took my last, longer leave. I think it was four or five years ago, but I don't remember," you blinked slowly. The levels of androstenone in him would be high, especially without a rut to keep him leveled, and the Maple Syrup would only force him to produce more. Too much, and he'd die of something. Whether it would be heat stroke, or dehydration you had no idea.

"If you don't pop a knot or two, you'll die. Heat stroke, maybe dehydration, but you'll die. I don't know the exact amount of androstenone inside of you, but if it gets too high you could be forced into a feral rut," you glanced over at him, his eyes scrunched shut, a low groan coming from his throat. He glanced back up to you, his eyes softened and fear started to lace his scent.

Ghost shook his head. "If I go feral, I'll kill you. I can't, Doc, I don't wanna kill you," his voice grew more strained as his sentence wore on.

"I'll be fine," you gave him a soft smile. "I'm going to go into heat, and if I don't get a knot, I'll die. I don't know if the weapon shit is able to counteract the birth control part of the suppressants, but I don't feel good. I need you to fuck me, Ghost," you whispered the last part. He shook his head. "You have my permission, so it's up to you to act," you swallowed again, eyes shutting as sweat beaded down your neck.

It was getting hot. Too hot, and you could feel your slick pooling and soaking through your pants. You could smell it, and you knew he could smell it. You could hear the panting breaths he took, the grunts he let out. A long, low growl came from him and his heavy steps inched closer to you.

Ghost grabbed you by the back of your neck, shoving you forward into the ground and scenting your throat deeply. He tore at the neck of your shirt, ripping it to let him get more of your scent. He licked a long line, sucking into the base of your neck softly as his teeth grazed along it.

He stuffed his fingers under your pants and panties, leaving you whining as two of his fingers brushed past your clit and buried into you. Even feral, the Alpha was trying to take care of you. They curled and pressed against you, leaving you writhing under him as you whined for more.

Pleasure blossomed in your abdomen, the heel of his hand grazing against your clit with each pump his fingers made, leaving you throbbing around his fingers. Ghost was able to get one more finger in you, nosing up your neck before sucking a dark hickey into your neck, teeth grazing along your neck and nipping you here and there, soothing it with a lick.

He tugged his fingers out of you, dragging your pants and panties down before shoving his down as well. He rutted his cock against your folds, soaking himself in your slick before sliding inside of you. A long, loud moan tore out of your throat as he kept sliding further and further into you, bottoming out with a growl from him.

Writhing against him with your mouth hanging open, he dragged himself out of you before rutting back in. Your nails scratched against the floor beneath you, you could feel your heartbeat in your clit and Ghost against your back.

Licking and sucking at your scent gland, Ghost dragged his face against it and growling. You could feel him throb inside of you, heat flooding you with his cum. A long whine came from your throat, hips pushing back and out against him as his fingers found your clit, rubbing in soft but quick strokes. Heat shredded through your abdomen, sliding through the rest of your body as your orgasm tore through your body.

You could feel your clit pulse with each heartbeat, his fingers not waning from stroking it, shocks flowing through you with each stroke. You thought you could feel tears pouring down your face, mouth wide open as you groaned. Ghost pulled out, letting you drop to the ground on your stomach before he flipped you over, pulling your legs to his shoulders and rocking his cock back inside of you.

Dropping your head back, your mouth still gaped open as he filled you once more. You could feel his knot catching onto you each time he thrust, leaving you whining. Ghost dropped back down, mouthing at your scent gland once more, leaving his open for your own mouth.

Pushing his balaclava away from his gland, you took licks of his for yourself. He tasted good, so good, his scent flooding into your mouth, you had to pull back just enough so that you could breathe. He grunted with each thrust, his abdomen brushing against your clit with every other thrust, your legs pushed into your chest.

Each thrust left you whining for more, faster, harder even if he couldn't hear or understand you through the feral rut. You felt tears pooling in your eyes again, dripping down your face as you gasped with each thrust, cunt throbbing around him as his knot caught more and more with every thrust until he couldn't pull out anymore. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you felt a sharp, stinging pain radiate from your neck before it heated into what almost felt like agonizing pleasure.

It burned white hot and you clawed at his arms, hips bucking against his, which were just barely thrusting against you, trying to pump you full and pump deep.

When he finally released your neck, he let out a long groan as his own orgasm seemed to finally wash over him. Ghost let his head drop to your shoulder, his hips trying to thrust harder and you couldn't stop yourself from biting down on his own gland in turn.

It was hard to see the way his mouth dropped open under the balaclava and his eyes roll back, but from what you could see it left you moaning against his neck.

It took you a few minutes to come back to when you released his neck. All you could taste those few minutes was Ghost, nothing more. You had to gasp for actual oxygen as his taste nearly embedded itself in your mouth.

From the moment you released his neck, to the moment you became more aware of what was happening, he had adjusted you to sitting in his lap with his back against the wall. You could hear him talking, but your mind was gone. There wasn't pain, but you weren't entirely comfortable. Your neck was sore, and your cunt was still throbbing around him.

He nuzzled your neck, lapping at your now marked gland.

Ghost wasn't entirely sure what would happen, neither of you would be able to hide the marks and even so, he would have to report this. He figured it wouldn't matter, for now, he could wait to figure everything out until you got medevacked and taken care of. Price would know what to do, he always did.

Next

[greensagephase]

Nonviolent Communication - Part 16

Pairing: Spider-Man!Miguel O'Hara x Spider-Woman!Reader Summary: Miguel and you make visits to the cemetery to talk to your loved ones. Miguel joins the spider gang for a training simulation so you can continue to rest after being sick. You go grocery shopping with him and then cook together! You debate gifting Miguel something for Father's Day. Word Count: 17.5k Warning: some depressing content; minor injury; blood; Miguel cries A/N: Edited this once, so I'm praying it's good since a lot was done at 4am today 🫠 Masterlist Music Inspo (Spotify playlist for the fanfic here) "Evergreen" - Richy Mitch & The Coal Miners "Home" - Good Neighbours (tyy Laura!!❤️)

Thank you for reading!!

Part 16

You lay fresh flowers on Peter’s resting place. You’ve collected the old ones and placed them with the other ones from your other loved ones’ graves. You always leave Peter’s for last, so you can stay with him the longest. It’s always been like this since he passed away.

A gentle breeze blows on your face as you stare at the gravestone. It’s almost another year since his death, the fifth one.

You sigh and fix the flowers, arranging them in a way that looks pretty. You always take your time with this on every grave, wanting to show love and care to your deceased loved ones even years after their deaths.

You finish fixing the flowers, admiring how colorful and fresh they are. You always opt for bright ones to lighten up Peter’s grave. You like to think that he’s here somewhere, sitting on the ground or leaning against the nearest tree, or even sitting on his own stone listening to you talk about your day. It used to help you in the early days after losing him. Now, it comforts you in a different way. Your heart aches but differently. You’ve healed, even though you once believed you wouldn’t.

You pull back. Usually, you tell Peter everything that happened during the week from the villains you’ve fought to the little moments of your day like simply having a coffee. He always loved that, hearing about your day. You intend to share all of that with him, but there’s something that’s been weighting on your mind especially, and heavily.

Harry.

He left your life in a blink of an eye, and came back just like that.

Nearly five years later, he makes an appearance, asking to reenter your life. You’ve had little time to think about his request with you growing sick the next morning and then having your period. Thankfully, you feel much better today. Your cold is mostly gone and your period’s symptoms have calmed down thanks to the medication that Miguel got you. Your body is still feeling some of the effects, like fatigue, but for the most part, you feel well. Your recovery has been a fast one and you have no doubt in your mind it’s all due to Miguel, who was like your nurse on duty, making rounds every thirty minutes and ensuring you took the medicine as it was prescribed. And then, there’s all the food he cooked and the other kind gestures, like giving you his blanket and sweatshirt, and the ointment on your nose and back.

You chuckle to yourself at the thought and decide to start your weekly moment with Peter at last, even after all these years. You tell him everything from running into Harry to getting sick and how Miguel looked after you to a brief summary of Miguel’s feelings regarding the situation with Harry.

He didn’t say it directly but you have a feeling that he’s not happy with Harry and honestly, even your other friends seemed… on edge about the situation.

His words, along with your friends’ behavior, have made you consider this situation, especially Miguel’s words. He made you realized Harry really did ghost you in a moment when you could’ve used someone’s comfort. Miguel also made you see that maybe, you did deserve a little better, even if you know that you were fully going to try and cut ties with Harry.

Now, you wonder if you would’ve done it had Harry not stepped away for whatever reason he did. Would you had allowed him to stay in your life had he stuck around? You know it’s unproductive to think about this now, so many years later but still.

A part of you is displeased that you have to worry about this now. You had simply accepted that your friendship had ended with Harry. He had his reasons and you had yours, so it felt like a silent mutual decision between you, but now? Harry is back and he wants to be part of your life again.

The question is now whether you let him, or not.

“What do I do, Peter?” you whisper. “I think - I was perfectly okay with the way things were left. Is that bad?” you ask. “I know I have no one in this universe.” Your head dips low once you say this. You truly have no one in this universe. Just you and yourself alone since Peter passed away. Staring at his gravestone, you swallow heavily.

“But I was okay with that for many years. I accepted it because I know I made that choice, to cut ties with everyone. I’ve told you what Miguel said - that I deserved better from our friends - and maybe I did, but it’s too late to think about that now. I accepted it years ago. Just like how I accepted what happened with Harry. We both walked away from each other, so it really felt like a mutual thing, you know? But now… He wants back and I don’t know if… I don’t know if I want him back. Is that a bad thing?” you whisper. “I just don’t know.” You sigh. “I don’t think my friends like the fact that he’s suddenly shown up. You should’ve seen them.” You smile softly, thinking of them. Your little family.

“You would’ve loved them, Peter. I’ve told you that already but I really do believe so. They’re amazing… They took me in and now they’re my family.”

You remain motionless and quiet for several minutes, thinking about the situation. The first thing is, maybe you did deserve better like Miguel said. Do you want that kind of person back in your life? What if Harry just walks out again?

There’s also the fact that you’re Spider-Woman. Having someone back into your life, someone who doesn’t know of your secret, will definitely stir things in your life. You’re not used to that anymore. Like, hiding your suit away in your bedroom, hidden in the closet. You don’t have to explain where little bruises come from, or why you were a bit late to something.

You can get used to that again, you suppose, but you won’t deny that hiding your identity can be exhausting and there’s always the risk of being connected to Spider-Woman. It was always a worry of yours with your parents, Aunt May, and Peter - to have them exposed to villains who made the connection.

You shake your head.

You can’t decide now. Maybe it’s too soon. It’s only been a few days since you met with him. Perhaps you ought to think about it more, give it a few more days.

“I need more time, Peter. I’ll think about it more,” you whisper softly with a sigh. You silently imagine Peter agreeing with your decision for now but your imagination is interrupted by your spider senses.

You glance around quickly, taking in your surroundings. You’ve been so lost with your thoughts you haven’t been paying attention to anything around you. Your eyes find the reason for the warning.

“Harry is coming,” you say, turning to face the grave. “I must go, Peter. I love you,” you whisper, quickly pressing your hand to the gravestone, your physical way of saying bye. “I’ll be back soon. I promise.”

You pick up your things and slip away, hiding behind a tree before Harry can catch sight of you. You watch from a distance as Harry approaches Peter’s grave, flowers in his hand.

You frown as you watch him get closer, your eyes on the flowers. You came to visit Peter very often after his death, multiple times a week, day and night. Despite coming so often, you only brought flowers once a week since they stayed fresh, and also because you’d always find other sets of flowers. You knew they were likely from friends but as the months went on, your flowers were the only ones that continued to come. Whoever else came to drop off flowers stopped two or three months after Peter’s passing.

Now, you watch as Harry stands in front of Peter’s grave with a solemn look on his face. You wonder if he ever comes to visit Peter, even without flowers. You hope he did because otherwise, it’d mean Harry didn’t visit his best friend’s grave. Not for nearly five years. It’d mean today is the first time.

You watch for a few more seconds, noticing Harry’s valet down the street standing next to the car, waiting for his boss.

With a sigh, you silently bid goodbye to Peter once more before slipping away, leaving the cemetery.

You dispose of the dead flowers somewhere appropriate and walk around your city. You’re not too happy you had to cut your visit short and leaving in a rush but you had to if you wanted to avoid Harry to avoid giving him an answer.

With your thoughts on Harry, you mindlessly walk with no clear direction. You must make a decision, sooner of later. For a moment, you wish you hadn't ran into him that day. If you hadn't, you wouldn't be here now, debating this entire ordeal. You're almost certain the stress from the encounter led to you getting sick.

You stop at the end of the street now and wait for traffic while you think about the fact that you got sick and how for the first time in years, someone took care of you.

You bring a hand to your nose, touching the tip, right where Miguel applied the ointment. You smile as you recall the moment, how gentle he was while applying the product while telling you that it was going to help you breathe better. Then, he gave you his sweatshirt and a hot tea.

You fell asleep shortly after while Miguel continued to watch over you. Lyla later told you it was like a man looking after a priceless artifact that could be stolen at any point, something that of course, brought a heat to your cheeks and stirred tenderness in you.

You're not surprised. Miguel is a kind man - a good one. He's caring and tender. He has so much love to give despite all the bad things, all the losses, that's happened to him.

You continue walking, finding yourself on your street. Of course. You'd probably find your way here even with a blindfold on since you've lived here for so long. You approach the construction site, keeping some distance as your eyes take in the progress. It seems like the building will be ready in a few more weeks, and then, it'll be time to move back.

It’ll be nice to be back.

But.

You bite the inside of your cheek. But?

Miguel flashes in your mind.

Him standing in the kitchen, cooking dinner while he talks to you. Then, there’s him sitting on the couch reading, eyebrows knitted lost in deep thought. Miguel, who taps his foot or bops his head slightly when you’re both cleaning the penthouse, the upbeat music winning over his body. There’s also him falling asleep on the couch, snoring softly, which is both endearing and heartwarming, to see that he’s actually resting when he went so long neglecting his body of it.

There’s also Miguel wishing you a good night’s sleep as you both stand in the hallway, him in front of his door wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt, waiting for you to enter your bedroom first before he enters his, which you believe he does to be a gentleman. It’s so sweet.

And there’s Miguel, who said was going to miss you when you return to your universe, and who you’ll be missing right back.

It seems you’ll both be missing each other. It almost feels as though, maybe… You shake your head gently.

You’ve thought about it a lot, many nights as you’ve laid in bed. The thought seems to pop up more often now that the weeks have dwindle. It doesn’t feel like much time went by since that first day when Miguel stayed at the penthouse to ensure you rested after the early morning you had helping your building’s residents evacuate.

A sheepish smile forms on your face as you remember telling Miguel how you wanted to hug him that day. You were out of it, exhausted both mentally and physically, maybe even emotionally, and the thought slipped out of your mouth. It did lead to him offering a pinky squeeze, an open one, though. Not like before when he could easily play it off as an accident because you were handing something to each other.

You hum softly. So much has changed since that day. Living with Miguel, temporarily, has allowed your friendship to grow, so much Miguel even admitted you’re his best friend.

“Best friend,” you murmur softly to yourself as you continue to stand on the sidewalk.

You miss your little old building and your small cozy apartment. There’s always going to be a coziness, a warmth from it. It’s a special place for sure, at least in your heart. And yet… You find yourself missing the housing arrangement, even though you haven’t left yet.

You’ll miss Miguel.

You sigh and shake your head.

It’ll be okay.

Things will fall into their rightful place.

They always do.

-♡-

Back in Nueva York, Earth-928, Miguel sits on the grass. He looks up at the sky for several minutes, silently. After a few days of rain, the weather has now cleared up. Today is sunny and bright, and there’s even a gentle but nice breeze that rustles Miguel’s hair. After several minutes, he closes his eyes and just - breathes.

Recently, he’s been trying to come more often and stay for a while. In the past, he was unable to. It was too hard, and after Gabriella’s universe collapsed, even more. Despite not coming often back then, Miguel always made sure the gravestones were taken care of, that they weren’t dirty and overgrown with weeds.

Recently, however, Miguel has tried to visit more often. He supposes part of the reason is that it’s easier now. It’s been several years since Gabriel and his mother passed away. Too many. It’s hard to believe that his little brother especially has been gone for so long.

Truth be told, Miguel always assumed he’d be the first to go. It made sense for the oldest sibling to pass away first, right? That’s how he thought it’d be, but life has its twists and turns, unexpected things out of our hands happen, and somehow, Miguel is still here.

Even when there were so many times he wished he wasn’t.

Miguel opens his eyes, moving his gaze to the gravestone.

When Gabriel died, Miguel especially thought about that. Gabriel deserved to live. He was a happy, outgoing young man. He brought a smile to everyone, always lifted people’s spirits.

Miguel has always believed out of the two of them, Gabriel was the better one, something he once voiced to him.

Of course, Gabriel O’Hara denied it and told him he was no better than Miguel.

With a sigh, Miguel leans forward. Losing Gabriel, it was more than losing a brother. He lost two things: his little brother, who always told him he wasn’t “little” anymore, and his best friend.

Losing him, it was the last straw. He focused entirely on his lab, burying his grief and loss with work to try and forget the fact that he had lost his last bit of family with his mother dying a previous year. He was suddenly familyless in his twenties, alone in the world.

Of course, he had Lyla but Gabri… He was gone.

Miguel inhales softly. It hurt. So bad. He never thought he could feel any worse but he was wrong because he then experienced losing Gabriella.

After several minutes of silence, Miguel sighs. “Hola hermano [Hello, brother],” he says, speaking for the first time. He’s been coming more often these days, but usually, Miguel doesn’t speak. He looks up at the sky again. “You would’ve loved this weather.”

His words are received by a bird chirping somewhere.

“Remember when we’d play fútbol [soccer] with all the other kids from the building at this time of year? The weather was warm and nice, not too hot yet. We knew school would be out soon for the summer, and we’d be able to stay up late behind our -” Miguel pauses, looking down at the gravestone. For a moment, a fraction of a second, he almost said the word. Sometimes, despite everything, he still associates the word with the man. He supposes that’s what a whole childhood does to someone. “Behind George’s back. Mama would let us stay up late in our rooms, watching movies about superheroes, wishing we were like them.” Miguel rolls his eyes playfully, a smile tugging at his lips before it falters. “Qué días… No sabía que algún día te perdería tan pronto. Siempre pensé que seria yo el que te dejaría primero. Y yo… te extraño, Gabrielito. Extraño mi hermanito enfadoso. Que daría por verte entrar a mi laboratorio para enfadarme, tal vez con otra persona de la sociedad de la cual te hiciste amigo [What days… I didn’t know one day I’d lose you so soon. I always thought it’d be me who would leave you first. And I… I miss you, Gabrielito. I miss my little annoying brother. What I would give to see you enter my lab to annoy me, maybe with another person from the society, one you became friends with]. Or, maybe… I’d see you walking in with Y/N, telling her something embarrassing about our childhood because you thought it’d be funny.” Miguel shakes his head at that image, smiling.

“I know I haven’t talked the last few times I’ve been here, but I just - I couldn’t. Not yet, but now I am. It’s been almost a year, Gabriel, since I possibly saw you. I’m still not sure if I did, or if it was just a dream - an illusion - but my heart tells me it was real. Y/N thinks so, too. Anyway,” Miguel pauses, clearing his throat. “It’s been almost a year, hermano [brother]. A year - a whole year. I’m sorry, if you’re listening, you’re probably hating that I’m repeating myself so much but, yeah, it’s been a year. Can you believe that?” Miguel asks, pausing. The same bird, probably, chirps. Miguel’s lips purse before he continues.

“A whole lot has changed, Gabriel. A lot. I… I’m a different man than I was a year ago. I can look at myself in the mirror now. I don’t shy away from my own gaze, which is another thing. My eyes. I find myself… Happy with them, along with my fangs and talons. That’s thanks to someone, and you know her very well. Well, at least in my dreams you do. Y/N. You and her get along so well in my dreams. We both wish you were around, physically, so she could’ve met you. You would’ve loved her, I know it,” Miguel says smiling again. “She’s a big part of my life now. I finally told her the other day that she’s my best friend. Oh, and she’s living with me now. Temporarily. I think… Her building will be livable again, very soon. She’ll be returning to her universe.”

Miguel looks away, staring at his lap. He picks away some grass from his bottoms, thinking. That same bird chirps again as if responding to him. He looks up again when he hears the fluttering from somewhere on the trees.

“It’s… difficult, Gabriel. I’ve grown used to her living with me. To her presence being there, both at HQ and now at the penthouse, close by. Our routines, they just merged. Clicked. Is it bad… Is it crazy that I’d like Dulzura [sweetness] - “ Miguel stops as he hears the nickname he gave you. “I’ve given her a nickname, too, Gabri. It just slipped out of my mouth that day. Dulzura [sweetness]. She’s so sweet, so kind to me - kinder than other people would ever be. Something about her, Gabri…” Miguel shakes his head. “As I was saying, I gave her a nickname. Dulzura [sweetness] - because she’s sweet and kind - but what I wanted to ask is, if it’s crazy that I’d like her to stay? For her to continue to live at the penthouse?”

The flapping of wings makes Miguel pause. He looks up, his crimson eyes finding a red bird in mid-flight. It so happens to perch itself on Gabri’s gravestone. He stares at it, watching how the bird spreads its wings before bringing them closer to its small, delicate body. Once settled, it looks around before settling its gaze on Miguel, too, observing him.

With knitted eyebrows, Miguel continues to stare, wondering if speaking will startle the bird. He decides not to for a moment, wanting to observe the bird this close up for longer. For a moment, he wishes you were here so you could see it, too. After several seconds, the bird chirps, taking small steps over Gabriel’s gravestone. Miguel remains quiet and keeps watching before the bird chirps again, stopping and turning to look at him, now on the edge of the gravestone’s top.

“What? Can’t find food?” Miguel asks. “I’m sure there’s plenty around.”

The bird chirps again. Miguel groans softly, now he’s talking to birds. “Estoy loco, verdad, ¿Gabri? [I’m crazy, right, Gabri?] I shouldn’t… but I do. I know it’s not likely. Dulzura [sweetness], she loves her apartment, so much. She’d never consider it, plus… This was only because of what happened at her building, not for any other reason. So there’s that.” Miguel frowns, picking up blades of grass with his fingers. He twirls a piece between his thumb and forefinger. “Aun así… No puedo dejar de pensar en el día que se ira [Even then… I can’t stop thinking about the day she’ll leave]. Thinking about it - it upsets me. I have no right, I know.” He gently lets go of the grass, watching it blow away with the breeze. He turns to the bird, still there. “¿Tu que? ¿Te gusto escuchar el chisme? [What of you? You liked hearing the gossip?]” He tilts his head to the side, wondering if something is wrong with this bird, but it moves just fine, no sign of injury.

He sighs.

“… I’m going to miss her, Gabriel,” Miguel admits out loud, his thoughts still on you and the fact it’s inevitable for you to move back to your apartment. “A lot,” he whispers. “But I can’t possibly ask. I can’t put her in a hard position. So, I guess in a few weeks, I’ll be staying at the penthouse on my own. Again.”

Miguel stares at the bird, wondering what his brother would say. He’d be positive about it. He’d say something like how things will work out the way they’re supposed to. So, Miguel holds on to that thought, even if things have not always turned out great for him.

-♡-

The next day, the Spider Society’s HQ is buzzing with energy since it’s Monday. Miguel and you walk side by side as you both enter the training sector, a floor designed for all forms of training, including simulations. You glance at Miguel, who’s carrying a gym bag on his broad shoulder.

Once or so every week, you join the spider gang to do training simulations but due to the cold and your period, you’re not entirely up for it today. So, you decided to ask Miguel if he’d like to join them in your place. He seem reluctant at first but then you added that you’d be here, and he agreed.

You know Miguel works out frequently, sometimes in the afternoon when everyone is gone from HQ, but ever since you temporarily moved in with him, he’s been opting to work out at home. Apparently owning the penthouse means a private gym, which Miguel told you about a few days after you moved in when he remembered it. Of course, he said you could use it if you wanted to, especially because it’s better since it’s more private than the training sector at HQ, where all the spider people train and work out.

Today, though, it seems he might try to work out a bit with the spider gang, hence his backpack to change into other clothes once the training simulation is over. The two of you walk through the sector, the place filled with many, many gym machines and then some more to accommodate the strength of the spider people, such as big blocks of metal among other things that no regular human will ever be able to lift.

As Miguel and you walk further inside, you finally spot the group, so you both head straight for them. You’re about fifty feet away from them when someone calls your name.

“Y/N.”

Miguel and you both turn, halting. Your gaze finds none other than Ben Reilly, who you know spends a lot of time here at the training sector. You smile softly at him and wave.

“Hi, Ben,” you greet him.

“Hey,” Ben replies, giving you somewhat of a smile. He raises his arm to wave back, flexing his bare biceps as he does so, not wearing his suit but rather work out gear. “Hope you’re - feeling better.”

Tilting your head to the side, you offer yet another smile. You didn’t know that others paid that much attention, though maybe it was the fact that Miguel didn’t show up that alerted them. And maybe someone from the spider gang mentioned it, so it may have reached other members’ ears.

“That’s kind of you, Ben, thank you. I’m doing much better, for sure. I still feel a little fatigue, but the worst has passed.”

“Glad to hear that, and to see you back,” he says, nodding. “See you around.”

“Alright, see you around!”

With that, you continue walking, Miguel following a step behind, his brows knitted.

It’s like he wasn’t even there, standing next to you. He glances back, finding Ben staring in your direction but immediately looking away when he notices Miguel’s gaze. He watches for a few seconds as Reilly starts working out again. Miguel exhales deeply as he turns to face the front again.

Weird, he thinks to himself as you both approach the group.

“Huh, Miguel did show up,” Hobie says, as if he expected Miguel to back out.

“This will be so much fun! Miguel is joining us for the first time!” Pav says cheerfully.

You smile as you notice the overall excitement about Miguel joining the spider gang for training today. Over the last few months, you’ve noticed Miguel trying to be more open with them and you have to admit, this little opportunity might help even more. The fact that he even accepted makes you feel very grateful and excited, even if you’re not participating today, unfortunately. Your hope, however, is that maybe after today, Miguel might be willing to train with the group from now on, including you.

“This should be interesting,” Peter B. says with Mayday hanging out on his shoulder, before everyone starts off to the simulation square, excited and eager.

Jess steps back, taking a seat on the edge of the running track. Sometimes she participates and other times she doesn’t, today being one of those days. You nod to Miguel.

“I’m going to sit with Jess. Good luck,” you tell him softly, offering a smile of encouragement.

Miguel raises an eyebrow, playfully. “Gracias [thank you]. I’ll see you in a few minutes.” Miguel watches as you take a seat next to Jess, satisfied that you’re safe and settled down, resting.

He heads to the simulation center where everyone is already waiting for him. The holographic walls engage right away, similar to those barriers used to capture anomalies except these can be broken.

From your spot, you watch as the simulation officially begins. The system selects a random New York from the database along with a random villain from those that have been captured, using the information it has on behavior and skills.

As soon as the villain pops up, the team jumps into action, quickly agreeing on roles and tasks before they split or team up.

As Jess and you watch, Jess breaks the silence.

“So… how is it?”

“How is what?” you ask, giving her a glance.

“Living with Miguel.”

“Oh,” you reply simply. You weren’t exactly expecting that question, so you feel caught off guard for a few seconds before you collect your thoughts. “It’s… great.”

“Just great?”

You chuckle. “I’m sorry, your question caught me off guard.” You sigh, watching how Hobie and Pav launch themselves off a building, swinging easily across the city. “I’ve… It’s amazing,” you start, which makes one of Jess’s eyebrows shoot up. “It’s really nice living with someone - living with Miguel. He’s a very respectful, responsible person. So… considerate. Our routines kind of - just clicked.” You pause, watching how Miguel swings after Hobie now, telling him something. Hobie nods before he parts ways with him.

Jess hums, listening.

“I’m thankful he offered his place to stay. I never thought I’d experience a fire at my building.”

“Girl - your building - I don’t mean to be mean but,” she pauses and you laugh softly.

“Okay, maybe I shouldn’t say I never expected it. I’ll agree the building is - old.”

“I was thinking ancient but old works, too.”

Jess and you laugh again.

“I don’t mean it in a bad way,” Jess says. “It’s an older building, a fire was probably not out of the question, but I understand why you’re… attached to it.”

“It’s been my home for several years. It was the place where Peter and I started our lives together.” You lean back on your hands. “But I also do find it to be cute, in its own way. Anyway, I guess a fire in the near future was not too out of the question but still, I didn’t think - so soon, I guess. It threw me off, into an unexpected situation, and I’m thankful to Miguel for opening his home to me. To all of you for offering your homes, too.”

Jess hums again. “You know my home is still open to you.”

“I know, thank you again. Hobie and the Morales family have continued to offer, but all of you have families. I didn’t want to disrupt anyone’s life. I still feel like I’m disrupting Miguel’s.”

“You’re not,” Jess says rather quickly. She shakes her head. “You know better than most people that Miguel hardly spent time at his home. It’s only been recent that he started to, at least the nights for some reason,” she says, looking at you as if you have the answers.

You keep a neutral face. You’re close with Jess, with the spider gang, but you’re not going to reveal the reason why Miguel has been going home almost every night for a whole year. You’re not going to reveal that each weekend, you offer Miguel a sweatshirt fresh with your scent nor that his gizmo plays the sound of you sleepy breathing - that both things help him sleep because they bring him comfort, that his nightmares have slowly decreased over time.

Jess hums softly, understanding. “Whatever the reason… He goes home and sleeps, I think. That’s all that matters. And recently, because you’re staying with him, he goes home earlier. Do you know how big that is?” she asks, raising an eyebrow. “It’s huge. Before you and him - became close - there were times, very rare, when I’d find him slumped over his monitors, passed out. Most of the time though, he hardly slept. He was always in a mood because of his lack of sleep. And don’t get me started on the lack of food. He’d skip meals, too.” Jess pauses and turns to look at the team, still in the simulation. Her eyes find Miguel, thinking about what a different man he is now. “You’re not disrupting anyone’s life, much less Miguel’s - believe that.” Jess stops at that, though there’s more she’d like to say, like how ever since she met Miguel and especially after losing Gabriella, Miguel was merely existing. He went through the days in a blur, day blending into night, in that dark and lonely lab of his.

Over the last year though?

Miguel O’Hara has been living.

It’s as if he’s found a new reason to try at life.

But he’s not the only one.

Jess hums to herself and turns to look at you, offering one of those smiles that never fails to bring you comfort from your once mentor.

Maybe one day, both Miguel and you will realize what you’ve truly done for each other.

For now, Jess Drew keeps smiling at you. “I’m glad to have you here, you know? This place would be very different without you.”

You smile at Jess, thinking. “Thank you, Jess. For going back to my universe even after I first declined the invitation.”

“Don’t worry about it. You made me ask and ask again, but I’m just glad you accepted at last.”

Humming, you think back to the reason for you joining. Your Peter. Jess brought him up, hoping it’d convince you. At first you wondered how she had known about him but being part of the Spider Society for some time now, you know potential recruits are watched for a few days. Mentors make sure that potential new recruits are not a liability for the society, which means Jess probably spent a few days observing you without your knowledge until she deemed you safe for recruitment. During those days, she quickly put together your life - what your schedule was like, the people that had once being in your life, and the fact that most of your talking was with petty criminals and villains before you went to an empty home.

There’s been times over the course of your time at the Spider Society when you’ve wondered where you’d be right now if you had never joined. Of course, there might never be a way to know for sure but a part of you senses that you’d still be on your own. The mere thought fills you with sadness but even more so when you think about the possibility of never meeting the people around you.

There’s a chance you would’ve never met any of them; no Hobie, Pav, or Miles. No Gwen or Margo. No Peter B. or Jess. No Noir, Penny, or Spider-Ham.

No Miguel.

Staring at the group, who are almost done with the simulation, you give a silent thank you to Peter, your Peter, from wherever he is. He was the reason you joined the society, the one that swayed your decision.

You turn to Jess. “Thank you,” you say again.

“For what?”

“You know, going back to get me to join.”

Jess smirks. “I already told you, not to worry about it - but you’re welcome,” she says, nudging your side.

Chuckling, you nudge her back.

It’s good to be here.

With a sigh of content, you watch as the simulation ends. The spider gang steps out of the holographic walls, some of them heading to the area with machines to use them.

Jess and you continue to sit by the track race, catching up on her life. A few minutes later, you both notice Miles and Pav stick to Miguel’s side as he fixes a machine to his needs before he starts using it. He’s changed into dark sweatpants and a black t-shirt, the clothes he had in his gym bag. You nod at something Jess says, watching for a few seconds as Miguel works on his arms, Pav and Miles still at his side, talking to him.

From somewhere, you hear a man grunt, catching Jess’s and your attention.

Ben Reilly puffs out air as he lifts a barbell that no human could ever lift. His bare arms tense under the weight and he let's out another noise. His arms shake as he lowers it one more time, trying to get one last rep, but even from your spot, you can see he'll struggle to lift it.

“I think Ben has pushed it too far,” Jess remarks.

“I think he might need help putting it back,” you add, frowning. “Be right back.” You stand up and approach him, noticing the shaking even more as you walk closer. You're about six feet away from him when someone brushes past you, in front of you.

It's all so quick it leaves you feeling caught off guard, but the familiar scent immediately reaches your nose before your eyes find the person.

Miguel.

He stands behind Ben and gives you a reassuring nod. “I got it. Here Ben,” he says, offering his hands to help the other Spider-Man. You notice his suit activates even over his gym clothes. It seems he doesn't want accidental physical contact.

You nod back as Ben hands the barbell to him before Miguel places it back. Meanwhile, Ben looks at you with a defeated look.

You give him a small smile. It seems he's upset about not being able to continue his reps. You step back and go back to Jess and Peter B., who’s now sitting next to her. They seemed to be gossiping about something, giggling to themselves.

“-ckblocked!” is all you manage to hear from Peter B., giggling.

Jess laughs. “Shush!”

They both notice you and hold back from their laughter.

“Should I be concerned?” you ask, taking a seat next to Jess.

“No, don't worry about it,” Jess says more seriously.

“It's nothing. You're safe,” Peter B. says.

“Safe?” you ask, confused.

“He's just being a goofball. You know how he gets,” Jess says, discreetly nudging Parker.

You shrug and turn towards Miguel and Ben, finding him talking to Reilly still.

“There's a more efficient way to do it,” Miguel says as he take the barbell, positioning his body correctly. “Look.”

Miguel demonstrates by lifting the barbell, stretching his arms above his head. His gaze is focused, staring right ahead as he brings the barbell to his chest. His suit is back to being disengaged now that Reilly is a few feet away from him, so you can see his arms flex as he moves. Your eyes take in the sight of his sleeves, which become even more taut as his muscles flex.

Miguel continues to demonstrate by holding the barbell for a few seconds before he lifts it up again, his torso’s muscles becoming prominent beneath his t-shirt. His gaze remains focused ahead, but then, it flickers to you, meeting yours.

You hold his gaze, giving him a smile and a nod, encouraging him to go on. He returns the nod, his gaze still on you for a few seconds before Ben says something to him, making Miguel’s gaze turn away from you, almost hesitantly.

You turn away and face Jess and Peter B., who you find wiggling his eyebrows at Mayday. Jess and you laugh, returning to your conversation from earlier.

Half an hour later, you decide to do at least a little bit of walking to stretch your legs, so you begin to walk around the track on your own, leaving Jess and Peter B., along with Mayday, to talk. You see them giggling again, once you’re out of ear shot, which makes you wonder but you decide to not investigate. Probably parent stuff.

A minute or two later, Miguel falls in step with you. “Doing a little walking?” he asks, looking over at you before he wipes his brow with the back of his hand.

“Yeah, I figured I’d stretch my legs a little bit, considering I hardly moved the last few days.”

Miguel nods, smiling. “I’m glad to see you’re in better spirits, to see you back on your feet.”

You return the smile. “So am I, which… reminds me.” You hold his gaze as you stop walking. “Thank you for looking after me. I…” you trail off, collecting your thoughts. “It was a while since I had become sick, but all those times, I was on my own. I got used to looking after myself, I guess, so much I forgot what it’s like to have someone worry about and look after me. Thank you, Miguel,” you say softly. “It meant so much to me.”

Miguel hums gently, nodding. You stand in front of each other, meeting each other’s gazes. “Always,” Miguel replies, his voice low, soft. “No matter what - always.”

You almost throw your arms around him. Almost pull him towards you to embrace him and not only “tell” how thankful you are for him, but also show him by giving him the tightest, warmest hug he’s ever received in his whole life.

You almost do it.

Yet, you don’t.

You wish.

Oh, how you wish you could.

You wonder. Maybe there’s a dimension out there, one that hasn’t been discovered yet in the vast multiverse, where you’re in each other’s lives, too, with the difference that that dimension’s Miguel has never shied away from physical contact.

Maybe another version of you gets to freely hug their Miguel, or rather their version of Miguel, not that Miguel is theirs in some way.

The point is, maybe there’s a universe where you don’t hold back from hugging Miguel when you wish to. One in which your version can just hug him.

Like you wish you could right now.

You smile at him, your arms wishing to wrap around him, despite his sweat. “Always,” you whisper.

You both smile at each other, forgetting that you’re in the Spider Society’s training sector with multiple sets of eyes and ears, some curious to catch a glance or a snippet of your moment and friendship.

After a few seconds, you begin to walk together again, soft smiles on your faces.

“I was thinking - how do you feel about homemade pizza for dinner?” Miguel asks, his gaze on you despite the multiple distractions in the space.

“Homemade pizza?” you ask.

“Yes, we can customize - if you’d like to, of course. I was just thinking - I don’t know where the idea came from.”

“Homemade pizza sounds amazing! I’m up for it,” you say looking up at him giddily, which only makes Miguel happy. “We’d need to buy a few ingredients, but we can get them.”

“I was thinking of going to the grocery store. Do you want to go with me?” Miguel asks, tilting his head.

You nod immediately. “Yeah, I’d love to! Just tell me what time, so I can get regular clothes on.”

“I was thinking leaving earlier today,” Miguel says as you both keep walking.

“How early are we talking?”

Miguel grins. “Like… an hour or two.”

You hum softly in response.

“Two hours before my usual departure time,” Miguel decides in the moment, the decision an easy one in your presence.

You grin. “You made your mind up quickly.”

Miguel rolls his eyes playfully. “We can meet up at the penthouse, change, and head to the grocery store.”

“Sounds like a plan,” you answer, looking forward to some homemade pizza and quality time with your best friend.

-♡-

Miguel carries the grocery basket while you both walk down the aisles, gathering the few ingredients that are needed for dinner. Just like Miguel suggested, the two of you left HQ thirty minutes ago, two whole hours earlier than Miguel usually leaves, and went straight to the penthouse to change in to regular clothes, and are now at one of Miguel’s favorite grocery stores in Nueva York.

You’ve seen it before but you’re still in awe as you both shop around, noticing the holograms for screens from which the best deals and newest items are displayed for customers to see. You even catch sight of holographic AIs, much like Lyla, that customers can refer to if they can’t find an item.

Even though it’s just a grocery trip, you find yourself enjoying it because you get to see more of Miguel’s universe, and you’re not the only one. Miguel walks next to you, the grocery basket looking like it’s part of a child’s grocery toy set near him, with great contentment thanks to your wide eyes and “oohs” when you see something exciting. You even end up checking out the sweets aisle, where Miguel added everything that you seemed to stare at for too long to the basket despite your protest once you noticed it.

At last, the two of you head to the check out section. Even though Miguel used the “scan and go” mobile option and paid online, you must show up to this area for an employee to check the purchases. So, you both stand there and wait for your turn to show the receipt. Meanwhile, you take a sip from a coffee Miguel bought you earlier from the attached coffee shop, insisting on you getting something. You declined at first but now that you’ve had it, you’re glad he offered because it’s great. Glancing at the cup, you notice there’s less than three sips left as you both step forward for a woman to scan your receipt from Miguel’s phone.

“How are you doing today? Did you guys find everything you needed?”

You nod with a smile, letting Miguel do the talking. It’s his universe after all.

“We did, thank you,” Miguel says as the lady scans the basket, placing the items in the bags Miguel brought with him.

You finish your drink and look around, noticing garbage bins nearby. “Hey, I’m going to throw this away real quick. It’s so good, I already finished it! Thank you for buying it for me,” you say with a smile. “I’ll be right back.”

Miguel gives you a small smile and nods before you head off.

The lady, noticing the interaction, smiles. “Aww, how sweet! You bought your girlfriend a coffee. What a gentleman,” she says, making Miguel nearly choke on his own saliva, something the lady seems to miss entirely, too busy talking and scanning the items to make sure everything is as it’s supposed to be. “And based on your groceries, you’re having a homemade pizza date.” She finishes her job and steps back, smiling. “You guys have a wonderful evening together!”

Miguel nods, still coughing quietly behind a small, sheepish smile. His cheeks are red as he approaches you, trying to stop the coughing. He stops a few feet behind you as you read something about the store’s recycling system. Apparently recycling is taken more seriously in Nueva York.

Miguel clears his throat, his chest finally calming down.

Your girlfriend, the lady said too happily, too certain. Like there’s no doubt that you’re Miguel’s girlfriend. He stares at your back as you read, still feeling shocked but he composes himself when you finally turn around to face him with a happy smile.

“This is really cool, I wish we had this in my… you know,” you say, remembering not to say anything about universes. The last thing you want is for people to think you’re talking crazy.

With a short exhale, Miguel nods, finding his voice once again. “The work they do is incredible. They’re trying to implement it to more stores like this one. It’s why I shop here, they’re a far more ethical company than others whose greed leads their decisions, even when it concerns everyone,” he explains softly as you both head to the exit.

“That’s really great, I’m glad you have that here. It’s unfortunate that’s not the case in all universes.”

“I know,” Miguel replies as you both begin to walk down the sidewalk. He doesn’t even realize it, but he walks closest to the street, keeping you away from it as he easily carries the bags in one hand, like it’s nothing.

The two of you continue to chat on the way home. Miguel points out buildings to you and answers questions you ask about certain things from his universe until the two of you eventually reach Miguel’s building. Instead of sneaking in through the windows like you both usually do, you get to the penthouse though the elevator and the main front door where Miguel asks you to open it, using your own fingerprint. He added you to the security system almost a year ago, so when you press your finger, the system immediately identifies you.

Together, you put groceries away before you both head to take a shower, in your respective bathrooms, of course.

Miguel, showered and wearing lounging clothes, makes it downstairs first. He heads to the kitchen to start gathering ingredients onto one of the counters, but he gets distracted though. There, on the counter, lies one of your hair ties. He takes a seat, just for a few seconds to look at it. You must have left it while you were putting items away and simply forgot about it.

Usually, you pick everything up, never leaving your personal items lingering around for too long. Miguel knows it’s because you don’t want to make the penthouse appear “cluttered” with your belongings, which Miguel has told you before that it’s fine. It’s not like small things such as your jewelry and hair accessories is going to make the space cluttered, but it seems you’re too respectful of the place to even leave a hair tie for longer than a few hours.

Due to that, Miguel appreciates the fact that you forgot your hair tie now. The truth is, he enjoys seeing little reminders around the penthouse that you’re here. It’s so comforting to him, to know he’s not alone in this big penthouse.

He gently picks it up now, as if it’s the most delicate of things. He finds himself smiling at the sight. Who knew a simple hair tie could bring such happiness to a man? He lets it slip down his fingers, still admiring it with a smile before he slightly stretches it. He’s very careful with it as he doesn’t want to rip it somehow. He learned from his short time with Gabriella that these things are sensitive.

“Miguel? Have you seen my hair tie?” you ask from the living room, coming to the kitchen.

Startled, Miguel quietly slams it back on the counter. His hand lays flat over it for the most part, minus his talons which came out from being startled since he failed to hear your footsteps, too focused on the hair tie. He turns to the entrance just as you walk in.

“... I have not,” Miguel says and then he moves his hand, his talons withdrawn now. He turns to the counter. “Never mind, it’s here.” He picks it up and holds it out, trying to play it off like he wasn’t holding it in his fingers just seconds ago.

You reach his side and take it, looking at it while your mind wonders. You smile. “Thank you. I forgot it down here.” You slip it onto your wrist for now. “Ready to start cooking?”

Miguel nods, his cheeks dusted with a blush. He’s relieved you didn’t catch him holding your hair tie. That’d be too much, right? “Ready,” he replies, standing up.

As you begin to gather what’s needed, Miguel turns on his record player and chooses upbeat music to go with the mood.

With everything on the counter ready to go, you work on the sauce while Miguel works on the dough. He offered to work on it, saying his hands could cover more ground than your smaller ones.

“Plus, years of making tamales will help,” he says as he finds the appropriate measuring cup.

Once Miguel is done and you have the sauce on the stove, you begin to prepare the toppings side by side on the counter, chatting about what you’re putting on your pizzas. At one point, you finish with your part of the toppings, so you move on to prep the pans for the dough while Miguel dices some vegetables.

While prepping the pans, you glance at the windows, noticing the way the kitchen is illuminated with golden hues, giving Miguel’s place a very cozy vibe. You even notice little rainbows on the ceiling, which you point out to him.

Staring at them, he can’t remember ever noticing them before, until now. He smiles at the sight, finding it cute that you noticed that and shared it with him.

You eventually begin to work with the dough for your pizzas when it’s ready since it needed to do its thing. The mood is a light one as you work side by side on the counter. After the last few days with you being sick and running into Harry, this moment is a relaxing one for both Miguel and you. Time seems to slow down as you both continue to talk, at some point even about the grocery store and how you think it’s, “so cool,” which earns yourself a smile from Miguel.

You add a little bit of flour to your dough before you roll the pin over it, trying to make it into a decent circle. You turn to look at Miguel’s to see how his is doing. You notice it looks great, and also that his fingerprints are all over the dough just like yours are over your own.

“Your dough looks-” you pause when you look at his face. You instantly smile and try not to chuckle. “Great. It’s almost a perfect circle.”

“You think so?” Miguel asks giving you his attention, unaware that he has flour on his cheek and nose.

“Definitely,” you reply, smiling. Deciding not to tell him about it, you turn back to your own to keep working on it.

“Thank you,” Miguel says, feeling pleased with himself. “I’ve never made homemade pizzas before.”

You hum gently. “Me neither. It’s kind of funny, I guess. We cook a lot and we’ve never made any.”

“First time for the two of us then,” he replies with a smile, which makes you smile, too.

Silently, you both feel pleased about this - about the fact that you’re both doing something new, together.

“Hiiii, guys! Making pizza?” Lyla asks, popping out of nowhere. She floats in front of Miguel and you, taking a look down at the counter like a manager inspecting quality. “It’s looking good. You guys are good at this, look at you.” She grins and looks up at you two again.

You thank Lyla before Miguel adds a quiet “thanks” as well.

“Uh - hm,” Lyla starts but stays quiet, noticing the flour on Miguel’s face. “Picture!” Before Miguel and you can react, Lyla takes a picture. “So sweet!”

“Lyla - always the same thing with you,” Miguel says but his tone is not angry or even bothered. In a way, his tone reminds Lyla of a disappointed parent.

She grins knowing that at this point, both of you have accepted that she takes pictures whenever she wants. “It’s not the first one I’ve taken today,” she says shrugging. “I took some before I even popped up.”

You raise an eyebrow but once again, don’t feel surprised. “How many have you taken?” you ask.

“A few. I may show them to you later,” she says. “I’m still deciding.”

“I can always just look for them,” Miguel says as he adds sauce to the dough.

“Good luck with that,” Lyla says, crossing her arms over her chest. “So… are you guys just making pizzas? No movie, no telenovela?”

You turn to look Miguel. You hadn’t thought of that, and it seems neither did Miguel because he turns to look at you with a look that confirms so.

“I… Didn’t think of that,” Miguel says. “Do you want to watch a movie?”

You shrug slightly. “If you want to. I’m up for it.”

“I have the best movie rec for you guys,” Lyla says clapping her hands. “It’s about a guy and a girl. They meet up and then become best of friends and -”

“So, you’re going to give us a summary?” Miguel asks.

Lyla sighs. “You know what? I’ve changed my mind. I’ll give you guys another rec.” She taps her chin, thinking. “The guy and girl end up together in the end,” Lyla says quietly to herself with a grin, watching you two. “You guys feel like watching an action movie? Maybe a mystery one? Or a horror movie? Or - maybe a romcom?” Lyla says, laying out the options, an eyebrow raised.

“I’m not picky,” Miguel says as he watches you carefully spread sauce. “What do you want to watch, dulzura [sweetness]?”

Your hand falters for a fraction of a second when you hear the nickname. Just a few days ago Miguel said it for the first time and since then, he’s said it a few more times - dropping the nickname here and there. Every single time has been when you’re both alone, either here at the penthouse or at the lab.

Either way, it’s caught you by surprise each time without failure. You smile softly at him. “I’m not picky either, we can watch anything, really.”

“Well, if I may… I say no horror,” Lyla says. “The sun is still out. The vibes for it are not it, you know?”

“Wait, I kind of want to see how horror movies are made in this universe with all the technology you have,” you say realizing.

Lyla frowns and Miguel smiles.

“You want to? I’m not a big horror fan but there’s a few classic ones.”

“Yeah… I think I’d like that,” you say nodding.

Lyla watches as Miguel shrugs. “We’ll watch that then.”

You both continue to work on the pizzas, adding your toppings now. Lyla stays in place, arms crossed over her chest with a frown. She sighs. “I still think my first rec was better than any horror movie but what do I know? I’m just the silly AI,” she mumbles.

“What is that word the spiderlings were using today?” Miguel says as he thinks back to training earlier today. “When someone just keeps talking?

“You mean, ‘yapping?’”

“Yeah, that one. Lyla is doing that right now,” he says looking at Lyla.

“You did not -” Lyla stops and facepalms.

“Professional yapper,” you say which makes Miguel chuckle next to you.

“Not you guys calling me a profesional yapper,” Lyla says.

“She’s still going,” Miguel comments as he adds more toppings to his pizza, smirking.

“I see why you’re best friends,” Lyla says in disbelief, which makes both Miguel and you chuckle. She shakes her head, not annoyed but amused. It’s good to see the two of you smiling and laughing. She’s slightly temped to say that you’re both “professional yappers” with each other, staying up until 3am in the living room talking about the most random things, but she holds back. “I’ll set up a horror movie for you guys,” she says with a sigh, disappearing.

An hour later, Miguel and you are sitting in the living room. Neither of you planned to watch a movie today, especially not over dinner but because of Lyla’s suggestion, you’re now both sat on the ground over the coffee table. You cleared it earlier to make space for the plates and drinks, and everything else needed. The blinds have been drawn, leaving the living room in complete darkness except for the TV.

The movie starts, so Miguel and you begin to eat, sitting across from each other.

“Wow, this is great,” Miguel murmurs after he finishes eating the first bite. “Wanna try it?”

Seeing you nod, Miguel offers the plate for you to grab a slice from his.

“Try mine,” you say softly, offering your plate, too.

Hums of approval for each other’s pizzas follows. Napkins and crushed red pepper flakes are exchanged, fingers brushing in the darkness.

You watch the movie in peace, exchanging words here and there until you decide to do an intermission halfway to use the bathroom and clean the remainder of the kitchen, not having much left to do since you both tried to clean up as you were cooking to avoid having a huge mess behind. You head upstairs to your bedroom when you’re both done cleaning to grab a sweatshirt since you’ve grown cold downstairs with the AC constantly turning on. You slide it on, fixing the sleeves when you notice your hair tie, the one you were looking for earlier. You forgot you left it on the counter after arriving back from the grocery store and looked for it here in your room, having forgot where you left it.

You tug at it gently, thinking. Miguel may have been able to play it off well, but it was a second too late.

You saw him holding it and though you weren’t able to see his face, his bashful reaction when you entered the room said a lot. You’ve known for some time that Miguel doesn’t mind you leaving your items around. He’s gone on to say you’re not cluttering the space because he knows that’s how you think, and even Lyla has told you that it probably brings some sort of comfort to Miguel. You hum softly to yourself, ready to head downstairs again as you think about the hair tie when your eyes land on the bookcase inside the room. It so happens to land on a photograph of your parents. It’s a photograph you used to have on your wall back at your apartment, so of course, you have it on display here. You walk over to it, staring at your parents.

It’s hard to believe how many years have gone by since they passed away, so many more than Peter. It hurt at the time, to know that you weren’t there to save them. You miss them every day, wished they were here. Sometimes you wonder if you would’ve told them about your secret, about being Spider-Woman if they were still alive.

You don’t know. Maybe not with the dangers that come with it. You smile and place a finger on the photo, thinking about how a few weeks ago it was Mother’s Day, which reminds you of Father’s Day. With a sigh, you tap the photo gently and whisper an “I love you” to your parents’ photograph before you check your gizmo.

Sure enough, Father’s Day is this Sunday, in just a few days. You check the calendar, noticing that it’ll be Father’s Day in other universes, too, including Miguel’s.

You turn to a photo of him and you, also displayed in the bookcase.

It’s one of the photos Lyla took in the past, the day she revealed that she takes photos, to be exact. It was the day you were painting picture frames at your apartment, in the middle of redecorating, when Miguel showed up to invite you for dinner as a thank you for looking after him. You remember it now. You had paint on your face and he didn’t tell you until later on, when he wiped it away.

The memory reminds you of Miguel’s face while you were cooking earlier, his cheek and nose dusted with flour. You grin at the memory and leave your bedroom, still thinking about Father’s Day. You silently debate about it as you walk down the staircase. You’d like to gift Miguel something but you wonder if it’s a good idea at all. You don’t want to upset him, to cause him any more pain than necessary. In the past, you’ve never spent the day with him, so you don’t know what he does, if he even reacts to it. This will be the first year you’ll be in his presence for the day and a part of you feels worried.

You reach the end of the stairs, now in the living room. You hear noise in the kitchen, alerting you that Miguel is there. You turn to the wall of photographs you put together, illuminated softly by a lamp Miguel turned on earlier when you both decided to take a break.

Miguel has changed a lot, this wall is a great sign of that but you still wonder if gifting him something on Father’s Day might upset him.

“Everything okay?” Miguel asks stepping into the living room.

You turn, startled. You’re still amazed sometimes at how he manages to sneak up on you. You’d think that a man of his size would make more noise when walking but no. Sometimes he walks so silently, you don’t know he’s there until he speaks up.

“Yes, I was just - looking,” you reply, glancing back at the wall, at a photo of Gaby. You smile softly at it for a second before giving Miguel your attention. He’s already walked to the coffee table, which has been cleared once more. He places two mugs on the surface, over coasters, and sits down on the floor again.

“What did you make?” you ask but you already have an idea as you make your way over.

“Give it a second,” he says with a soft smirk, knowing that the scent will reach your nose soon enough.

You reach the table, noticing the mugs filled with a dark liquid. Your favorite.

“I’m not even going to ask how you made it so quick,” you say which makes Miguel chuckle.

“I won’t reveal my secrets, then.”

You snort softly and turn your gaze to him, noticing he still has flour on his face. “I’ll be right back.” You head to the kitchen for a napkin, returning to the table in no time. You kneel on your side of the table.

“I forgot to tell you earlier,” you start as you fold the napkin while Miguel watches you with curiosity, wondering.

“What is it?” he asks softly, his head tilting to the side.

“You have a little something - right,” you lean over the table, carefully, and reach with the napkin. “Here,” you say, wiping his cheek and then dabbing his nose gently. You pull back, not missing the way Miguel blinks in surprise, his brows knitting slightly. He didn’t protest nor pulled back though, he simply accepted it, either willingly or because he was too caught off guard.

You place the napkin down and pick up the mug, taking it in both hands and inhaling the rich scent. “Always smells so good,” you mumble bringing it to your mouth. “Thank you for making it.”

Miguel nods, still blinking. His brain is having a moment, trying to catch up. “Si [yes], you’re we- Always,” he says. stammering. “I hope you like it,” he adds picking up his own and holding it with one hand.

“Should we unpause?”

“Yeah, I - I got it.” Miguel grabs the remote and unpauses as he speaks. “Thank you for, you know, my face,” he says as the movie starts playing again.

“Always,” you say humming, your eyes on the TV once more as you settle down and get comfortable.

You watch the rest of the movie without pauses, drinking your coffees in comfy lounging clothes. Miguel threw on a sweatshirt earlier, too, so you’re both donning sweatshirts now. It’s not until the movie is over that you realize it’s the same one he offered to you when you were sick. Of course, you threw it in the wash since you were sick and returned it to him, along with his blanket.

You glance at Miguel as he reads from a book. It’s a new one. Apparently he finished the previous one while looking after you a few days ago. He turns the page, his eyes moving across the page. You’re both still sitting on the ground, across from each other.

You turn back to your tablet, looking for gifts to give fathers. You don’t even know why you searched that up, but you did, almost mindlessly, as soon as you grabbed the tablet. So now, you’re “just looking.” You’re not buying anything. You don’t think so.

As you scroll, your mind is contemplating.

Should you, or should you not?

You know it might be a hard day for Miguel but at the same time, simply ignoring the day and making it seem like it’s a regular Sunday seems cruel to you.

You chew on your bottom lip.

Which is crueler? Ignoring the day, or bringing it up?

“What are you thinking about?”

You look up, caught off guard. Miguel is staring at you, his book in one hand held open by a finger.

“I… Nothing,” you say softly.

“I don’t believe you,” Miguel replies, knowing you too well. Something is bothering you.

“I… well,” you start, trying to give yourself time to think of a little white lie. “It’s just … I’m thinking about… Yesterday.” You nod, finding a truth. “When I went to the cemetery, I saw Harry there.”

Miguel nods, not giving away that he knows you’re telling him something else. He noticed the way you were thinking, giving yourself time. He goes along with it anyway, trusting that whatever was truly on your mind, you’ll feel comfortable to share with him later on if you wish to. At least, it doesn't seem to be life or death. Still, the fact that you ran into Harry makes his brows raise.

“You did?”

“Yeah. He didn’t see me. I - I fled like a criminal from Peter’s grave,” you say wincing as you realize that’s basically how you left, running away from there before he could spot you. “I didn’t want to run into him and have to give him an answer when I don’t have one yet. Or, have to tell him that I’m still thinking about it, you know? So, I just - avoided him.”

“I don’t blame you,” Miguel replies gently, placing his book down after saving his page with a bookmark. “It’s only been a few days since you saw him again after so many years. I hope he’d understand that his request might need more than a few days to be considered.”

Leaning back on the couch, you nod, relieved Miguel didn’t notice that you very last minute thought of the Harry situation. “I’m sure he would - at least the Harry I knew back then would, but I suppose that doesn’t matter much now. Maybe I don’t know him anymore. So many years have gone by and I’ve changed. Maybe he has, too.”

“Change - is good,” Miguel answers. He knows that himself. He wouldn’t be here now if it wasn’t for the changes he’s made in his life, for accepting and embracing them even when there have been times when it was hard. “Maybe he has changed - matured,” he adds, leaving out that maybe he’s learned not to abandon friends in need. He frowns, his hand curling into a loose fist for a few seconds before he relaxes. “It’s only been a few days. You still have time to think about it, figure out what you think is best for you. Not for him.”

Letting Miguel’s words sink in, you nod with a small smile. “I appreciate your encouraging words. I’ll admit, this threw me off guard more than I’d like, so I find your words reassuring. I don’t need to rush and make a decision,” you say. “I just need to not feel guilty or selfish about it.”

“That’s the last thing you are,” Miguel says leaning on the coffee table slightly. “You’re not selfish for taking your time, nor would you be selfish if you chose to - step back, even if it’s for now. I’m… I have no right to say anything. I know he was in your life since your childhood, and I’m no one to tell you-” Miguel says pausing to gather his thoughts.

“You’re my best friend,” you say softly, seizing Miguel’s pause to speak. “I appreciate your thoughts, your advice - I’ll say what you once told me - you’re someone to me.”

Miguel hums, a smile forming on his lips when he hears you reciprocate his very words from so long ago. Back then, he was unable to call you his friend, so he used the word “someone” instead. “You’re someone to me, too.” Now, he can say it though, so he does. “You’re my best friend.”

Smiling back at him, your heart is elated to hear those words from Miguel’s mouth once again. To have him verbally say it - you’re his best friend.

And he’s yours.

You push down the happiness, remembering you were talking about Harry and your decision. “So… you were saying?” you ask.

“Right,” Miguel says, also recalling what the conversation is even about. “I was saying that… Well, my opinion doesn’t matter at the end of the day. No one’s does. The decision is up to you, but no one would blame you for stepping back, or asking Harry for more time to think about it, but that’s just a thought. All I hope is that you don’t feel pressure, nor stress from your decision when you make one.”

You nod, thinking about his words as you rub your thumb over your knuckles. “I don’t know right now. I don’t have a clear answer, and I don’t want to rush into making one.” You sigh and meet his gaze. “You’re right. It’s only been a few days, and I spent a lot of those days resting and sleeping, so I hardly even gave it a thought. A few more days won’t be so bad.”

“I concur,” Miguel says. “There’s plenty of time to think about it. Just - don’t get too stressed about it, okay? I have a feeling part of the reason why you got sick was because of stress you were - are - feeling about this situation.”

“I won’t, I’ll take it easy,” you reassure Miguel. “I don’t want to get sick again.”

“Me neither,” Miguel says, genuinely as he hated seeing you sick. “I hated seeing you sick, you know…”

You flash him a smile, moving your thumb from your knuckles to your wrist, feeling your hair tie. “I can imagine. I hated seeing you injured a year ago.”

He hums in response, understanding. If he hated seeing you sick with a cold, he can only imagine what he’d feel if something else - something worse - happened to you. He silently prays he never has to witness something like that with you. “Hopefully, it never gets to something like that again. For either of us.”

“I hope not,” you reply, still touching your hair tie. “By the way…”

“Yeah?” he says, raising an eyebrow.

“Do you want more café de olla [coffee]?”

Amused, he nods. “Yeah, I could go for another mug.”

“I got it then,” you say, standing up and grabbing both your mugs. Miguel thanks you as you head to the kitchen. You come back a minute later and place yours down, holding on to his. “Here,” you say, placing his in front of him.

He looks at it, smiling. “Thank you again, I appreciate it,” Miguel says softly before he notices your hair tie next to it, laying on the table. He looks up just as you sit down once more. “You dropped your hair tie,” he says picking it up, remembering earlier when you almost caught him playing with it.

“I did? Oh, I didn’t even notice,” you say, surprised. “I had it in my pocket. Hold it for me, let me get a napkin, yeah?”

“Yeah, of course.” Miguel watches you return to the kitchen, still holding your hair tie.

You return and sit down, placing napkins for each other. You notice Miguel is still holding on to your hair tie. “I think I’m just going to leave it here for now. It was bothering my wrist earlier and seems like it fell from my pocket. I don’t want to lose it,” you say. “It’s my favorite.”

Miguel nods, holding it. He places it down gently, like it’s some delicate item that might break. “You can leave it here on the coffee table, so you don’t lose it.”

“You’re right, I’m going to leave it here,” you say with a smile before you pick up your tablet again, not giving it more attention than necessary to avoid raising any suspicions.

Miguel goes back to reading after a few seconds, seeing you go back to whatever it was you were doing on your tablet.

A little while after searching the internet for gift ideas, you subtly look up.

Miguel is leaning on the couch, his book in his hand. His eyes move across the page fast, intrigued by the plot of his book. Under the coffee table, which is built in a way that allows people’s legs under, you feel his lower leg resting against your own. You hadn’t even noticed it but now that you are, you’re aware of the warmth, finding it comforting.

Up on the table, his free hand rests there. His fingers are busy playing with your hair tie. He turns it around his fingers before he slips it down his hand to his wrist so he can flip the page.

You turn back to your tablet with a smile, saying nothing for now.

It’s much later when you’re both heading upstairs to sleep that he remembers he has it, still on his wrist. He stops in front of his bedroom and turns to face you.

For a moment you think he’s just doing his normal gesture, waiting for you to enter your bedroom first before he enters his to be a gentleman but you notice his hand on his wrist.

“I have your…” he starts, trailing off.

“It’s alright,” you say from your door. “You can keep it.”

“I - what?” Miguel asks, taken aback.

“You may keep it.”

“Your hair tie…?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s your favorite.”

“I know.”

“So you should have it back, then.”

“You can give it back tomorrow if you’d like, but I don’t mind. Keep it safe for me,” you say before you yawn, covering your mouth. “Goodnight, Migs. Sleep well, okay? I’ll see you in the mornin’.” You give him a little wave and a sleepy smile before entering your room, leaving Miguel in the hallway.

His fingers remain on your hair tie, wrapped around his wrist. For a few seconds, he stands still until he shakes his head, dropping his hand from his wrist and entering his bedroom at last.

Inside his room, he heads for the bathroom to do his night routine. He makes sure to take off your hair tie to avoid getting it damp, taking it back with him to the bedroom when he’s done and placing it on his nightstand. He takes off his shirt and throws it at the end of the bed before he gets the bed ready. In a few seconds, he settles under the covers with a sigh. He stares at the ceiling for several minutes, sleep slowly coming to him as he thinks. He eventually reaches for the hair tie and slips it into his wrist before he turns on his side.

Miguel’s hand searches the other side of the bed, looking for something. Once he finds it, he tugs it towards him along with a pillow. He easily slips the pillow into it, gently tugging the fabric down so the pillow is covered. At last, Miguel hugs the pillow, now covered by your sweatshirt, to his chest.

His eyes close as your scent reaches his nose.

“Lyla - do the thing,” he murmurs. Two seconds later, his gizmo plays the recording of your breathing.

With his sleep remedies in place, Miguel slowly succumbs to his slumber as he thinks about the day. There was training with the spider gang, which he enjoyed. He might join them again if they’ll have him. There was helping Reilly, who was acting strange today. He’s never seen Reilly struggle with a set before. Weird. Then, there was grocery shopping with you.

Miguel yawns quietly, shifting slightly to get comfy.

He bought you a coffee and you seemed to love it. Oh, and for some reason the lady working there thought you were his girlfriend. Strange. Then, you made pizzas and spent the evening watching the horror movie. Café de olla [coffee] was made and drank while you did your own things in each other’s company. The conversation of Harry came back.

Half-asleep and half-awake, Miguel sighs at that before he thinks about your hair tie, now on his wrist.

And to end the day, there was the nickname.

Migs.

More asleep than anything now, Miguel smiles sleepily, hugging your sweatshirt closer. “Buenas noches, dulzura [Good night, sweetness].” -Father’s Day-

Days later, you wake up around 8am. You go through your morning routine as usual, though you know what day it is.

It’s Sunday, but not just any Sunday.

You walk downstairs after changing into regular clothes, hoping to find Miguel on the first floor. You noticed his bedroom door is fully opened, which usually means he’s already awake but when you reach the first floor, he’s nowhere to be found. You check the office downstairs and the other living room. Nothing.

Stepping into the kitchen and dining room area, you notice a thermos with a note on it.

You reach for it, feeling the warmth from the bottle as you take off the sticky note. You almost get excited about the fact that he left you a note just like how you leave some for him on some days but his message doesn’t bring a smile to your face.

Frowning, you place the sticky note on the counter with his neat handwriting.

“Went to HQ. I’ll be back in a while. - M”

It’s not surprising that he’s at HQ on a Sunday. For as long as you’ve known him, you’ve known that Miguel was always at HQ, even on the weekends. Over the last year, you’ve noticed he only goes for a bit on both days before returning home, and ever since you’ve been staying with him, he goes for an hour or so. Even then, he’s been going later in the day, not so early like today.

You have a pretty good idea why.

Father’s Day.

You wondered over the week if Miguel would mention it, whether he would react to it as the day got here. He didn’t say nor react over the week, even when Peter B. mentioned something about it to Miles on Friday in his presence at which you shot him a look.

You know Peter B. meant no wrong by it, but sometimes it seems a bit inconsiderate considering the situation and how Miguel’s loss is still fresh.

You open the thermos, the amazing scent of coffee greeting you. You sigh. The fact that he still made coffee despite the day hurts.

“You’re too good,” you whisper to yourself, thinking about him. “Lyla?”

“Hey, there,” she says appearing instantly. “You want to know about Miguel?”

“Yes,” you reply, not bothering to wonder how she knows.

“He’s… at the lab.”

“I know that much,” you reply.

”He’s just working,” Lyla says, shrugging. “He always works today.”

You nod, frowning. “So there’s no missions, no emergencies?”

“Nope. Nada [nothing]. He’s just… there.”

“I see.”

“Are you gonna - join him?” Lyla asks.

“Do you think he’ll stay there all day?” you ask, wondering.

“In the past, he has but this year with you being here… I don’t know, honestly.”

Noticing your frown and worried expression, Lyla adds, “I’ll keep an eye out for him.”

You nod, grateful. “Thank you, Lyla.”

“You got it. Just - stay put, alright?”

“Alright.”

Lyla flickers away, leaving you alone. You check the time. It’s barely about to be 8:30.

You take a seat at the counter and drink the coffee in silence, thinking about how Miguel probably wants some alone time right now. You decide to let him be until noon, at which point you’ll show up to drop off some food so he can at least eat because you have a guess he hasn’t had anything except coffee.

After finishing your coffee, you eat something before going to your universe to check on things. You stay alert to your gizmo, just in case Lyla notifies you about anything, but no notifications come.

You return home an hour later after an easy patrol. Usually there’s no crimes on holidays like these, so there was no trouble. You do some light cleaning around the penthouse to waste time before you jump in the shower and get dressed for the day.

Back in the kitchen now, you notice it’s nearly noon. There’s still no sign of Miguel even when you decide to make lunch since you didn’t eat much before you went out.

It’s an easy lunch, so it doesn’t take long to finish making it. After eating, you gather ingredients onto one of the counters to bake. You decided a few days ago that you wanted to bake something for Miguel today, even if you play it off as a regular baking day and not because it’s Father’s Day.

“Hey, he’s heading out and coming back,” Lyla says as you place the last ingredient on the counter. “He’s a little quiet but not in a bad mood.”

“Thank you for letting me know. I appreciate it, Lyla,” you reply.

“Of course. Take care,” she says, deciding that she’s not needed. Miguel will have someone with him today. You. She waves goodbye before disappearing.

With Lyla gone, you start the oven and check on the lunch. You made plenty for both yourself and Miguel, so you begin to prep it for him.

Sure enough, you hear a window from the living room open a few minutes later. You look up just in time to see Miguel enter the kitchen, donning his suit. For a few seconds, you say nothing, trying to gauge his mood.

He reaches the counter, saying nothing. The oven beeps, indicating that it’s done preheating. It catches his attention, breaking him away from his thoughts.

“…Morning,” he says at last.

“Morning,” you reply. “Do you want something to eat?”

He starts to shake his head but his stomach grumbles with the scent of food in the air. “Yeah, but don’t worry about it. I’ll eat somet-”

“I made lunch,” you interject gently. “I made plenty, if you’d like some.” You fix a plate and show it to him. Thankfully he accepts it and eats at the counter, thanking you.

You do your measuring of ingredients, subtly looking at Miguel ever once in a while as he eats. You can definitely sense a different Miguel right now.

He finishes eating and excuses himself after he puts the dirty dishes away, promising to wash them in a bit before heading upstairs.

You bake on your own for a while. Lyla eventually plays music for you through Miguel’s sound system, probably finding the mood too somber, or something.

Half an hour later, Miguel walks back into the kitchen. His hair is damp and he’s dressed in a t-shirt and sweats. He approaches the counter, watching you as you check the oven through the glass.

When you turn to see him, he offers a small smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. The sight hurts you, but you don’t let it show.

“Hey,” he says. “How’s your baking going?”

“Um - good. No problems,” you reply, for a moment not knowing how to respond.

“Good, I’m glad it’s going well.”

You nod. “Do you - Did that meal fill you up? I can make something else.”

He shakes his head. “No, I’m alright, thank you. Lunch was good - it was fulfilling.”

“That’s good to hear.”

Miguel nods, thinking. He sits down, watching as you wipe the stand mixer down.

“I’m sorry,” he says suddenly, making you stop. “Today…” Miguel trails off.

“I know,” you say softly. “You don’t have to explain. I understand.”

He sighs gently, your words soothing him. He suspected you’d know but he still wanted to let you know.

“I’m better now,” he says after a few seconds. “I just needed - to be out of the penthouse for a moment. I’m sorry for leaving.”

“You don’t have to apologize.”

“I just left a sticky note,” he says, shaking his head at himself, as if disappointed at his actions. “Not - very nice of me.”

“Miguel,” you say, straightening up and meeting his gaze. “You don’t have to apologize nor give me any explanations. I understand you needed a moment, or maybe you need the day. And that’s understandable. No one would blame you for doing so.”

Miguel’s eyes soften, he offers a smile once again. This time, it looks more lively.

“Thank you for - always being so understanding, dulzura [sweetness],” he says, so softly.

“Always,” you reply, offering a warm smile.

Miguel keeps smiling, taking in the soft look on your face. You really are so understanding, so sweet.

“I’ll be here for you,” you add. “Whatever you want to do today, I’ll be here if you need me.”

He nods, looking at the counter now. “I really - don’t want to go anywhere.”

That makes sense. There’s probably families out and about, celebrating the day.

“We can stay here then. I’ll let you be.”

“No.”

“No?” you repeat.

“No, you don’t have to - let me be. You can… You can stay with me?” he says, sounding more like a question.

“If you want to… I can.”

“Yes - please.”

So you do. You stay near Miguel all day, like glue. You eat the baked sweets together, watch TV, and read. You make dinner together when it’s time and make conversation, keeping it lighthearted.

After dinner, Miguel asks if you want to go outside with him for some fresh air. Of course, you accept. You both climb out of the penthouse and up onto the roof.

Sitting down, your legs dangle off the building as you both watch the sunset. In the distance, you can see the traffic. You both sit there in silence for a while, watching the sun.

“That was pretty,” you murmur once the sun has set.

“It was, wasn’t it?” Miguel replies.

With a smile, you nod and lean back on your hands.

“Thank you,” Miguel says, making you turn to see him. “For sticking around with me. I really appreciate it.”

“Always,” you say softly, still smiling.

Miguel copies your position, leaning back on his hands. His fingers accidentally brush yours, so he shifts his hand to avoid squeezing yours under his weight.

You both stay like that for a few minutes. The silence is nice, comforting. You think about something as you look at the sky, and it’s not the first time. You’ve thought about it multiple times throughout the day but you’re still making up your mind, wondering if it’s a good idea.

You still debate it even when you both head back inside and tell Miguel you’re washing your hands in the bathroom even though it’s a lie.

You enter your bedroom and pull out the gift bag from the closet, debating. You sigh.

It’s probably not a good idea. Maybe you can wait until next year to give him these things, or maybe on another day that’s not Father’s Day.

“Dulzura [sweetness]?” you hear Miguel’s voice. “Are you okay?”

“I - yes!” You reply, moving quickly to put the bag away. In your rush, you slam your elbow on the closet door, wincing.

“I’m coming in,” Miguel says after hearing your wince.

He steps in just as you put the gift bag inside the closet, except it falls from where you placed it. You catch it quickly, remembering that something could break.

“You hurt yourself,” Miguel says stepping closer. “Are you okay? What happened?”

You huff slowly, giving up and placing the bag on the floor carefully before rubbing your elbow.

Superhuman or not, a hit on the elbow always hurts.

“Hit my elbow,” you say, still rubbing it.

“I heard the hit, let me see,” Miguel says. “It sounded loud.”

“It’s okay, just hit it on the door.”

“Allow me?”

You nod hesitantly, your face feeling hot out of embarrassment that you hurt yourself trying to hide the bag. You show Miguel your elbow, and he hums.

“Damn, dulzura. You broke the skin somehow - hold on.”

“It’s... fine,” you say watching as he exits the room. He comes back in seconds, a first aid kit in his hand. He motions for you to take a seat on the one chair in the room, so you obey. Reluctantly.

He gets down on one knee and gets to work, opening the first aid kit.

“It’s not that bad,” you say, looking at it. There’s some blood but that’s about it. Of course, it’s still stinging like hell - somehow getting worse.

“You’re bleeding,” he says as he opens an antiseptic wipe package. “Here. Let me see your arm.”

You hold it out for him, looking at his concentrated gaze. He shocks you when he gently wraps his free hand around your forearm - his fingers warm.

He gently wipes your elbow, which makes you wince.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers gently. “Just want to clean the area.”

You nod. “I know, it’s not that bad,” you keep saying.

That makes Miguel look at your face. “Why am I surprised? You’re a stubborn one, aren’t you?” He shakes his head and turns his attention back to your elbow. He was already gentle to begin with, but somehow he’s even more now.

“I’m not stubborn,” you say after a few seconds.

“Right, and everyone at HQ thinks I’m a beam of sunlight. They call me ‘solecito’ [little sun] - maybe you’ve heard members call me that before in passing,” Miguel says sarcastically, looking at you.

With serious faces, you stare at each other for a few seconds until your lips quiver, making Miguel’s quiver, too. Unable to hold back, you laugh.

Miguel chuckles, trying to hold back from full on laughing, but in the end, Miguel O’Hara laughs.

It’s a real laugh, so full of life. It’s the kind that makes his entire chest vibrate - rich and deep.

It’s the kind you’d do anything to hear again. And again. And again.

Your laughter subsides after a few moments but grins remain on your faces as Miguel continues to tend to your wound like you’ve come back from a rough mission.

“Solecito [little sun], huh?” you ask, chuckling slightly.

“Yeah, I’m everyone’s ball of sunshine,” Miguel replies as he puts away the antiseptic wipe. “You ripped your skin - what were you even doing in such a rush?”

You look to the side. “I was - putting something away.”

Miguel turns to look at the closet, noticing the gift bag on the ground. He hardly noticed it earlier, more concerned about you than anything else when he heard you wincing.

“A gift bag?” he asks turning back to you. His mind quickly connects the dots as he tends to your cut.

“Yeah…” you simply say, staring off to the side.

“You bought something?” he asks gently while he places an adhesive bandage on you.

You turn to face him and nod. “I did, but I didn’t know how to give it to you, and then when I saw you this morning - or in the afternoon rather - I felt it wasn’t a good idea.”

Miguel hums, his gaze softening. He’s done tending your wound but his hand remains wrapped around your forearm.

“And you hit yourself trying to hide it,” he says.

“I heard you coming in.”

“I came upstairs to grab my sweatshirt and then heard you sighing. It sounded like you were disappointed, so I just wanted to make sure you were alright. I didn’t mean for you to hurt yourself,” he replies, softly.

“It’s not your fault - I was just,” you pause and wave your free arm. “I didn’t want you to see it and then, have to tell you about it. I realized it wasn’t a good idea, so.”

“I’m okay,” Miguel replies. “You didn’t have to hide it. I’m sorry you felt like you couldn’t show it to me. The first part of the day was a little hard but… the rest of the day has been better.” Miguel offers a reassuring smile. “Thanks to you. So... If you want to show me… I promise I’ll be okay.”

“You’re sure?”

“Positive.”

You nod slowly. “Alright.” You shoot your web and pull the gift bag towards you. “Um - do you want to?” you say offering the bag to him.

He nods, releasing your arm at last. He accepts the bag. After all the trouble you went though, there’s no way Miguel isn’t accepting your gift, even if it makes him feel bittersweet.

He opens the bag, still on one knee, and reaches inside. He feels different objects but he goes for something that feels round and heavy, wrapped in paper, and pulls it out. He places the bag down for a moment.

You slide off the chair and sit on the ground, joined by Miguel a second later. He opens the package gently, sensing it’s something fragile.

Pulling off all the paper, he finally reveals the item and holds it up, his gaze soft.

It’s a pottery coffee mug with traces of the color lilac, but it’s the main design that tugs the most at Miguel’s heartstrings: two bees, one smaller than the other one, and “Father’s Day” written under it.

“You remembered,” he says tenderly. “You remembered what I told you about Gaby - that she loved the color lilac and bees.”

“I did,” you answer, smiling.

Miguel smiles, his chest fluttering with happiness and pure ternura [endearment] as he stares at the coffee mug. “And you made it yourself?” He asks, knowing that you’re a hobby person, you like to try new things.

“Yes. I went to two classes this week and worked on it then. It’s not perfect, being my first time with pottery but I hope you like it regardless.”

“I love it,” Miguel says sincerely, leaving no question or doubt about it. He holds it, not wanting to let go of it. In his mind, he already knows he’ll be using this mug every day for coffee.

“I’m glad you - love it,” you say softly, happy with your idea. “There’s more though.”

“Right,” he says remembering. He places the mug down and reaches for the bag. His fingers find a small box, so he pulls that out. His curiosity grows as he realizes it’s the size of a jewelry box. He glances at you, wondering.

“Open it.”

Miguel nods, opening it gently. His eyes widen for a moment as he finds a gold bracelet, the kind that he grew up wearing as a kid.

“You…” he starts as his eyes read Gabriella’s name on the gold plate. “She had one like this, much smaller, of course. She wore it all the time, day and night. You noticed that from the photos.”

You nod. “I hope you don’t… mind,” you whisper. “I thought… it’s something you can wear sometimes, a physical reminder of her with you.”

He nods, sliding his finger over the name.

Gabriella.

“Thank you,” he whispers. “You didn’t have to - this is real gold, it must have cost a lot.”

“Don’t worry about that, please. I’m just glad you like it. I was worried - it might be too much,” you admit.

“No, no, this is - I only have one thing of hers,” Miguel confesses. “The guitar I place on the ofrenda. It’s the only physical item left, and it was pure luck that it made it, so this… Thank you.”

You can only nod, relieved that Miguel is okay with the bracelet. He takes a few moments to look at it, lost in thought, before he finally reaches for the last item. He doesn’t know what it is but it’s a flat and long item. He peels the paper carefully, revealing an art canvas.

You notice the front is facing you, so you wait for him to turn it.

When he does, his eyes soften and fill with tears.

“Dulzura,” he says. “This is - beautiful,” Miguel says, his fingers tracing the painting. A tear slides down his cheek as he stares at the image you painted of him and Gabriella.

He’s in awe with how beautiful it is, so much he needs to take a moment. He looks away from you and closes his eyes, his chest filled with emotion. He lets a breath out, swallowing the knot in his throat and looks at the painting again.

It’s him in his Spider-Man suit, face uncovered, carrying Gabriella on his shoulders. Gaby is wearing her soccer uniform, one hand in the air while she holds her soccer ball in the other one. Based on the background, they’re, here, at the penthouse.

More tears spill from Miguel’s eyes - tears you’re tempted to wipe away. You swallow the knot that’s formed in your own throat from seeing Miguel grow so emotional, and clear your throat. In a second, you pull your sweatshirt from the bed with your web and take one of the sleeves. You lift it.

“May I…?” you ask.

Miguel’s red eyes turn to you, his tears running down his damp cheeks. He doesn’t say no or yes, so you dry his cheeks with your sleeve, gently.

“I’m sorry,” you say. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

Miguel blinks a few more tears, but a smile forms on his lips. “Someone on a rooftop once told me they’re happy tears.”

You smile and pull back, remembering the time Miguel did the same for you. You told him they were happy ones.

“Happy tears are good,” you say, nodding.

“Yeah, they are,” Miguel agrees, wiping his cheek. “Thank you - this is really - so beautiful. So, so… beautiful. Thank you.”

“Always,” you whisper.

Still holding the canvas, Miguel sniffles and extends his arm. He offers his pinky finger.

And of course, you accept the gesture with your own.

You give each other a pinky hug.

“Happy Father’s Day, Migs,” you whisper.

“Thank you,” Miguel answers, still smiling with his pinky finger wrapped around yours. "Thank you, dulzura [sweetness].”

A/N: I have many thoughts about certain things in this chapter, hehehe

But anyway - I made myself cry with the Father's Day part at 2am lmao

I WISH MIGUEL HAD GABY IN HIS LIFE !!!😭😭 Gonna be sad about this all day fr but anyway, I want to say thank you to the people that replied to my post from yesterday about what you'd gift Miguel for Father's Day. I did the same thing for Christmas and I really loved incorporating readers' ideas into the fic, so I figured why not do it again and they didn't disappoint!!! @lauraolar14 @only-a-universe-away @oharaslove thank you for the lovely ideas!!!!! <33333

Also one more mention for @lauraolar14 !! The hair tie scenes were based on this fan art that was inspired by a post of NC head canons of reader (I think I'm going to start calling her Dulzura from now on, lowkey) and Miguel as temporary roommates THAT I'M STILL THINKING ABOUT SGFRYEHRUH THANK YOU LAURA!! ❤️❤️ That's enough yapping from me!! I hope you guys enjoyed this one!! I cried and laughed, and hopefully you do, too (but in a good way, you know?)!!

THANK YOU!! IT MEANS SO MUCH TO ME 🫶🏼🥺<3333333 Also, I hope you guys have a great start to your week!!!

Alondra❤️

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[enviedear]

what do you think billy would be like when hes jealous?

jealous!billy bonney

request

billy bonney tried very hard to do good. he liked to think he did more good than he did bad. especially when it comes to you. you’re as sweet on him as he is you. you make him feel like he must've done something worthwhile, something that makes him deserving of you.

but the goodness inside of him is gone as he stares at the young man with his hand at your hip. you’re billy’s girl, everyone knows. you’re tied intrinsically to the infamous gunslinger. billy thinks his head may explode when the man leans down to whisper in your ear. 

that action shattered his remaining resolve entirely, and he’s quick to saunter to you. you feel his presence before you actually get eyes on him, and the air seems to still.

you watch as he sizes up the man next to you, a banker from a few towns over, and you notice the slightest flush to his pretty face. 

the banker either doesn’t see billy or ignores him, pulling you closer to continue with his sentence. he’s a nice enough man, you think, though he speaks in great detail of his salary and expensive shoes. 

“excuse me.” billy’s voice is tight, strained, abnormal. 

the man perks his head up, dark eyes meeting billy’s blues, “can i help you, son?”

you bite your lip in anticipation, knowing billy won’t like the ‘endearment’ given to him. to your surprise however, billy gives a grin before shaking his head.

“no, sorry,” he pauses to interlock his hand with yours, tugging you away from the banker and into his arms, “how ‘bout i get you home, darlin'?”

you hum at his words, suddenly lost in his newfound possessiveness.

the banker barks a laugh, “girl ain’t got no ring, son. i say she’s fine right here,” he steps closer to you, fingers lifting your chin to peer up at him, “come on, pretty thing like you can stay out long as she likes. don’t let the boy ruin your fun.”

billy’s ghost of a grin morphs, falling into a barely contained anger. you note the way he juts his hip out, making the gun in his holster more evident, “you’re not from here, are you?”

his question confuses you, but as the banker’s eyebrows furrow, billy continues, “cause, if y’were, you’d know that this is my girl.”

the tension grows palpable as billy's voice carries through the quiet bar with a dangerous edge. his words hang heavy in warning, making it clear that he's not going to tolerate any incivility towards you.

there's a mixture of fear and pride in your head at his possessiveness, knowing he'd sooner hang than let you be talked down to.

the banker, taken aback by your cowboy's boldness, drops tour chin and hesitates for a moment before mustering up the courage to respond, "listen here, kid," he speaks, his voice laced with arrogance, "i don't care who you think you are. this is a free country, and i can talk to whoever i please."

billy's eyes narrow, his hand inching toward his holster even further, "i reckon you don't understand the situation," he retorts, his voice low and dangerous as his hand brushes against his gun, "i suggest you take a good look 'round— see the looks on their faces when i touch my gun? this town knows who i am, and they damn well know that she's mine too."

you can feel the pressure escalating, the atmosphere crackling with an impending clash. the onlookers and drunkards watch with bated breath, unsure of what's to unfold next. you feel a small bit of their unease, but deep down, you know that billy won't shoot over something so small.

that doesn't mean he won't scare him off though.

with a swift movement, billy steps forward, his body positioned protectively in front of you. the banker's conviction wavers, his bravado fading as he realizes billy means business. he takes a step back, his eyes darting around, searching for the exit.

"you've made a grave mistake, sir," billy says, his voice somehow colder than before, "if you think for one second that you can talk t'her like that and get away with it, you're sorely mistaken."

the banker stammers, his confidence completely shattered. "i… i didn't mean no harm," he stutters, voice higher in pitch, "i apologize if i offended anyone."

billy's gaze remains fixed on the banker, his eyes burning with intensity, "you'd do best to remember your place. next time sorry won't cut it."

you intervene, opting to diffuse the tension and get the both of you out of there, "alright, that's enough," you declare, voice authoritative but mild.

reluctantly, the banker nods, eyes set on billy's before huffing. he takes a glace at you, his expression filled with shame, before turning and walking away.

as the bar livens up again, billy's grip on you relaxes slightly. he looks at you with a mixture of concern and resolution, "m'sorry if i scared you," he says softly, his voice filled with a fierce protectiveness, "i won't let anyone disrespect you, darlin'. i'll always be there to defend you."

you meet his gaze, feeling a surge of warmth and gratitude. in that moment, you know that with him by your side, you'll always be safe and cherished.