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byeolbeloved · 6 months

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Letters to Cupid -Kang Yeosang

Pairings> soldier!yeosang x typist!reader

Genre> childhood friends to strangers to lovers, angst, fluff, use of flashbacks, slightly suggestive, setting takes place around 18th century

Summary> for centuries, women named cupids worked as typists to write letters on behalf of senders who couldn't write themselves. You were always the writer but never the receiver for a love letter, yearning to be picked up by a knight. What you didn't expect was for this knight to have a familiar set of eyes, only this time lost from the innocence they once had.

Words from pupa : This fic is inspired by the anime Violet Evergarden! Also note that the writings in small italics are meant to be flashbacks. I had so much fun writing this so I really hope you enjoy it <3 The picture is also fanart I made myself hehe so I hope you like that too ^^

The typewriter clicked away, following a warm melody of the woman reminiscing her adventures with the other piece of her that is now battling the screams and horror of man. The warm scenery of her words contrasted the thunderous roars outside. The weather had no mercy on lovers under the moonlight.

"Please tell him I love him and I'll always be waiting for him" the woman said glass eyed.

She's a gorgeous woman, with light make up and well done hair, although judging from the purple under her eyes you can tell she's had restless nights, tearful even, by her pink nose that was already prominent as she walked through the door.

You always thought about how hard it must be to have your lover be in the military. You've seen many cases of these couples working as a typist. You had at least 10 letters a day of women writing to their husbands on how badly they miss them, some not knowing their ashes have become part of the land they fight to protect.

"He will appreciate this letter dearly, Elenor. I will make sure to send it out by Friday" you say with a smile embossing a wax seal on the letter.

"Oh thank you Cupid. I was never good at using the typewriter so when an old friend told me about you I practically came here as fast as I could. It's been a month since he's been away, we've never been separated for this long.."

"It must be so hard for you both. He'll be just fine El... I see the love in your eyes, he'll come back to them"

Education was a privilege, hence the reason why so many people were illiterate. For centuries women named "Cupids" wrote letters on behalf of senders who weren't able to write to their loved ones themselves or simply didn't know how to express their emotions on paper. It started from a voluntary organisation but has now turned into a whole company, well known throughout the land.

You were born into the world of literature. Your father was a writer and your mother was a book illustrator. Work being the opening chapter for their own love story. From the moment you were born, books heavily dominated your life. Literally. Because even from the scene of your birth, where your mother delivered you unexpectedly at the house you grew up in, you were wrapped in ripped pages from books- that being the first thing they could grab instead of a blanket at such a chaotic scene of panic.

You grew up with your mother reading you books and you accompanied your father while he wrote. Although you loved literature, writing your own book wasn't something you saw yourself doing. You much preferred experiencing a realistic event rather than coming up with a story, which is why you fell in love with this job.

You get to write true emotion while hearing another person's story and relationships. And you were clearly good at portraying what people wanted to express as you had tons of people personally asking for you to write for them.

Love; a topic you could rant on and on about. You dreamt about being picked up by a knight, running away from reality just to intertwine in each other's soul.

However, you weren't such a hopeless romantic as you were very selective with the guys you talked to, let alone dated. No one has ever made you feel like a princess getting saved by the prince. Maybe reality isn't like the books, however, you felt that there must be someone in this lifetime who could make you feel like that.

The night was dark. Dark as the swelling wave of the ocean before the rising winds, when it bends its head near the coast. Rain fell hard against the concrete floor and the wind was so sharp it could cut you.

The girl shut her eyes, trying to count sheep to calm her heartbeat but the sound of the rain only pictured her sheep drowning in the night alongside her.

"The rain won't get us here" spoke the boy, flashing her a smile that emphasized the pink red mark by his left eye. The red mark he told her was from a kiss from cupid after she pointed out how it looked like a heart. They were under the awning of a closed store.

"The rain is scary Yeosang" she frowned.

"It's only water" he held his hand out to the rain and let it get wet "see? I'm fine"

"I know but I don't like the noises"

"Then don't listen to the noises. You can just listen to me" he wiped his wet hand on the side of his pants and grabbed onto hers.

"I will protect you from the rain. I promise I will always hold your hand when it rains Y/N"

“Sorry I’m late, I just finished up with my last client for the day. Did I miss anything?” you place down your coat on the chair back.

“Only Jia swooning over mailman Tony again” Sakura chuckled while sipping her coffee.

“Seriously, when are you going to make a move? He might be single” Maya continued mouthful with a sandwich.

“Oh shush there shall be no romance at work. We have a business relationship and that’s how it’s going to stay. Now let’s get started with the meeting so we can head home before the weather gets worse.” Jia snaps and everyone hides their smiles at her shyness.

“Okay, this meeting is to just remind everyone about plans for next week. We will be accompanying commander Chan- everyone remembers him right? From last year. We will be writing letters for his unit, he has a different unit now. Make sure to pack warm clothes sinc-”

“Since there will be lower temperature in the North” Sakura and Maya said together in a monotone voice. “We’ve done this before Jia we knowww~” Sakura whines.

“Just relax and look out for the hot single soldiers” Maya giggles to Sakura who is now poking at Jia’s side.

“Business! This is business guys! We're going there for work. Plus, these hot guys are depending on us to bring back their messages to their families. No fooling around” Jia makes clear.

Once a year your team will visit military camps to write for soldiers. You’re usually there for 3 days excluding travel. Apart from some of the men being touch starved and looking as if they’ve never seen a woman in their life- most of them are really nice. Last time they even set out a mini farewell and thank you party before your departure.

The crisp sound of snow beneath your feet and cold sensation on your nose definitely woke you up from your nap on the way here. It actually felt quite nice, your surroundings bright from the white snow despite the sun not yet risen and the cold air felt like a splash of water to your face in the early morning. All nice except for the sound of Sakura and Maya’s whines from how their boots weren’t fit for the snow. This is exactly why Jia spent so much time whining about clothing.

The soldiers shared cabins or tents. You girls too got your own cabin to share- unfortunately quite small so you’ll have to put up with Maya’s snores throughout the night, however big enough for the 4 of you. The main area had its own cabin. That’s where the soldiers mostly hang out and eat.

As you girls made your way to the main area, commander Chan introduced you to everyone. There seemed to be at least 40 men in there, thankfully all divided into units so it was easier to organise when you’ll be working with who.

Everyone gave you a warm welcome. You girls spent the first hour chatting with some of them, or you could say flirting for Maya and Sakura, before going into your cabin and unpacking your stuff.

Everyone was really sweet. Two soldiers, a long haired guy with a mole under his eye and another slightly taller than him with a dorito-like physique showed you around the area and let you know the schedule for breakfast, training and lunch. The area was quite open, you could see yourself getting comfortable here as it was very quiet. However, during all this you felt a pair of eyes on you. Though looking around you never saw anyone who could be staring.

“Slow down Yeo! It’s really rocky here” the little girl pants, trying to keep up with the energetic boy in front of her. He’s practically waddling like an excited maltese dog that’s about to get a treat.

“Just a little more, come on!” he grabs onto her hand speeding up her steps, now reaching his pace.

The two youngsters reach the top of the hill, overlooking the dazzling sight of flowers in different shapes and colours spread out across the field.

The girl lets out a gasp eyes sparkling “This is… what you wanted to show me?”

“What do you think?”

“Yeo this is…. Beautiful” her eyes scan across the field, completely forgetting the distant yelling from her mom she was worrying about 15 minutes ago from why she took so long to get back home after school.

“It’s gorgeous” says the boy, but he’s not looking at the scenery of flowers. He’s looking directly at her. Swimming in the ocean of her sparkling eyes reflecting the warm colours from the sunset.

You are gorgeous he thought to himself.

The day was busy. Each unit who was on their breaks got their letters done and even though it was only day one, you managed to get lots done already. It was already pitch black outside and everyone was already tucked into their cabins.

Maybe you were still in work-mode but your body had no intentions to rest as you couldn’t stop tossing and turning in your bunk bed so you decided to take a step outside. You walked over to a corner with bright pink flowers contrasting the white snow, standing tall and so youthful.

“So beautiful…” you whispered, crouching to touch the soft pedals. They look like they have just bloomed.

“Cyclamen” a deep voice from behind you startles you, letting out a light yelp from you as you turn around quickly. Your yelp almost turns into a loud gasp as you quickly identify the figure owning that deep voice.

His hair is a light chocolate brown, long enough to be tucked behind his ears but not in a I haven’t thought about cutting my hair type of way- it was well maintained. He was taller than you but not enough so that you’re practically looking up. His body was clearly fit, arm muscles very prominent even from his camo print thick jacket. His skin was pale. So pale it looked like milk. So pale it emphasized the pink mark by his left eye.

Kang Yeosang.

You had no doubt this was the same boy who used to have thick pitch black hair, sometimes patchy bangs from the self haircut his sister used to give him. The same boy who looked at everyone with sparkly eyes and clapped his hands together when he laughed.

This was your Kang Yeosang.

“Those flowers are Cyclamen” he said expressionless, hands in his pockets.

You don’t know if it's the cold air drying your eyes or your overwhelming emotion but you start to feel tears forming, so hot and full of sentiment they almost burn your skin. “Yeosang…?” you whisper but it comes out shaky.

“They mostly bloom in cold weather” he says, still in the same stance.

“Are there any more flowers around here?” you sniffle out tilting your head.

“I’ve seen snow roses around here before. Would you like to see them with me someday?”

“I’d love to” you said with a smile, now earning a smile from him.

He takes his hands out of his pockets and steps closer to you, pulling you into a hug which you gracefully accept, your arms latching around his neck almost a bit too tight.

“Hello Y/N” and that's your breaking point. You start sobbing into his chest muffling out I miss yous to which he responds with a hand on your head, caressing it gently.

“I’m here”

The walk was quiet and heavy. Each step representing minutes lost from each other.

The girl is the first to break the icy silence “can’t you wait at least till next year? We just graduated”

“Y/N this isn’t my choice to make, I don’t have any other choice. It’s what I’m supposed to do” the boy says against his wishes.

“When will I be able to see you again?” the girl now looks at him glass eyed.

“I don’t know” he lowers his head but quickly looks at her holding her hand. “Hey, no matter how long it will take, I will always be here, yea? I promise Y/N”

“Please don’t break that promise Yeo..”

The following days you and Yeosang were practically glued together when you had the time. You caught up on each other's life events and even reminisced about your childhood together. It was almost like you were kids again, except you noticed how serious Yeosang is now.

You don’t expect him to have that same innocence as he had when you were younger. He’s a grown man now and also a soldier. Not a particularly happy go lucky type of job. However, apart from teeth smiles while covering his mouth with his hand, you haven’t heard him laugh yet. You missed it. You missed the days when you both ran around giggling at any little thing. Is that boy you loved, lost?

“But yea, let’s just say leaving a half opened can of soup in a tent for 2 weeks isn’t a great idea” he scratched his head and lightly chuckled.

You laughed at his stories with his cabinmates. So far he has only told you about silly fun stories with his friends, apart from him explaining the basic routine of what they do in training. You were glad he was able to make fond memories as a soldier, especially since you knew how nervous he was joining the military.

But something about you knew that wasn’t all. Has he really been doing well? What about the times he's been in battle? Has he been greatly injured before? Broken a bone maybe? Does he miss his family?

Did he ever think about you?

“Yeo…” you placed your spoon down. The main cabin was far too loud for both of you to have a conversation so you and him chose to stay in his tent for breakfast and dinners. His cabinmates barely stayed there unless it was for sleep so you had all the privacy you wanted.

“How are you? Really”

“I’m doing well”

“No Yeo, I mean about everything. Do you like it here? Don’t you miss home?”

“Home? Well… Mom occasionally sends letters, I��ve visited sometimes but travel is so long I’d only have a day with them till I have to come back so… I’ve stopped visiting.” How long has it been since he’s had a home cooked meal?

“This definitely isn’t luxury heh, but I’m used to it Y/N. Don’t worry about me, I know what I’m doing here”

“Do you ever think about… me? Us?” immediately his gaze softens to your words. This is probably the first time you’ve seen a genuine expression on his face since being here. His hand is gently placed on your thigh and he brings his face closer to you.

“Of course Y/N, I told you I’ll always be here. I promised” his eyes burn into your soul and your gaze meets his birthmark. Your finger moves by itself and goes to gently touch it.

“I don’t see you anymore Yeosang… everything is so different”

“I know. It’s hard. This is all very hard but we are going to work this out Y/N”

Your faces are so close together you can practically taste his breath. His eyes land to your lips and for a second you could see the pupils of his eyes grow. He slowly breaks the space between you and you close your eyes, expecting to feel a touch on your lips until he breaks off the moment with a whisper “I want to write a letter.”

“I don’t understand thissssss~ let’s just take a break”

“We’ve already taken 2 breaks. Here, I started the first step for you, now remember what we did for question 6, it’s basically the same thing” the boy hands her the sheet of paper.

“Yeo I appreciate your help but maybe this is a sign from god that I should just give up on Math” the girl slouches on her seat kicking her feet.

“Math isn’t that hard, you just need to focus. Now come on we still have 5 pages left.”

“5 PAGES!? I might as well throw myself off the window”

“If you finish this in the next hour” he leans in close to her ear “I might give you a kiss” he leans back to his chair with a smug look on his face.

You’d think the girl wore face paint on her face from the deep red that was now formed. Without a word she picks up a pencil and writes away on her paper.

“Damn you Yeosang”

Some people get frustrated with slow walkers in front of them, slow drivers or even someone talking way too calmly, but the way Yeosang is working the typewriter makes you want to snatch it from him and do the job yourself.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to write the letter for you?”

“It’s fine I got this” he continues on with his slow pace.

“Who are you writing that letter to anyway?”

“Just someone”

“Who is just someone?”

“A person I know”

“Who is this person you know?”

“You don’t know them”

“Pleaseee Yeooo~” you lean in closer to him “I’ll give you a kiss if you tell me who” you giggle remembering his little tactic he used to use on you in school.

“Mmmm I’ll think about it” you huff in frustration and he laughs.

He laughs.

Your worries of losing the boy you loved dearly completely vanished as you finally see that innocent boy back. His laugh sounded like the doorbell of a childhood house, where kids would run to see if daddy is home. The last bell ring at school, when kids ran home to show mommy what they drew. The sound of the ice cream truck song amplifying as it rolled up from down the street. The clicking sound of riding your first bike, parents cheering in the background for balancing without training wheels.

He sounded like childhood and you felt like a child again.

In what felt like forever, Yeosang finished his letter. Sealing the paper into an envelope ready to be read by this mystery person you so badly wanted to know.

“Okay I’ll take it and make sure to send it out. Make sure to write the address.” you reach your hand out but he doesn't move.

“Oh no I want to keep it”

“What?”

“I want to keep the letter.”

“What do you mean? Don’t you want to send it to that person?”

“Not yet.”

“We can withhold it and send it at any given time you want”

“It’s fine, I’ll send it myself”

Him protecting this letter made you even more curious as to who it was for. Surely he didn’t just write something for fun. Who was this friend? Was it a girl? Or possibly a lover? Surely not. Especially not when he almost just kissed you a while ago.

He promised. You’re just overthinking. Right?

It was your last day with the soldiers. You only had a couple of letters to finish and by nightfall you and the girls were set off to travel back home. Absolute no bone in your body wanted to go back home. This meant being separated from Yeosang again and you weren’t ready to let him go yet, you only just reunited with him.

“Y/N, you have a visitor waiting” Maya points to the door, only to see Yeosang waiting for you.

“I have a few more letters to write th-” you’re shushed by Maya when she lightly shoves you out of the room “Don’t worry, we got this, you go enjoy your last moments with lover boy” she whispers the last part although Yeosang surely heard judging by the way he looked away.

“Ooo he’s a shy lover boy too” Maya says before closing the door, you can still hear her giggles through the wall as you’re now left alone with Yeosang.

“Shall we go?” he quietly says.

“Yeah, where are we going?”

“You’ll see”

The two of you slowly walk side by side, occasionally bumping the sides of your arms. There isn’t much talking but the silence is comfortable. Almost too comfortable that you forget this is the last time you get to examine his features before the final goodbye for god knows how long it will be again.

You’re snapped out of your thoughts when Yeosang hands you a big white flower, a snow rose. “This is the snow rose I told you about” he said with a smile gently handing it over to you.

“Yeos-”

“Marry me Y/N”

What.

Time stops for a second. A long second. Even the birds stop chirping and the wind halts. You aren’t sure what just happened but your heart knows for sure that it’s a big deal as it beats so hard, destined to break out of you and reach his own, intertwining with his and merging into one.

“What did you say?” you mutter quietly.

In contrast with your tone, Yeosang is confident. His chin is up high, shoulders back and there's a look in his eyes that show no sign of hesitation.

“I want you to marry me Y/N” he takes a step closer, and another, and another, till you’re now backed up into the rough surface of a tree.

“I’m going to make this work, I’ll find a way to leave this place if I have to but Y/N, I can’t let you go again.” he cups your face gently and swipes his thumb across your cheek “I’m done keeping promises and making you wait, I want to be with you Y/N, only you” he rests his forehead against yours.

“Come home to me Yeosang” you breathe onto his lips before locking them together.

Your lips dance together so full of passion and need it almost feels as if your bodies are intertwining into one. You feel his small smile through the kiss as you deepen it, locking your hands in his hair while his explores the sides of your body.

Cold air hits your belly as he lifts up your shirt to slide his hand against your skin, caressing your chest. If you weren’t so lost in the kiss you would have noticed that he was practically spelling his name across your chest with his hand movements.

Remembering that you both need to breathe, he’s the first to break the kiss. You’re both a panting mess but he manages you let out a chuckle “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Yes in every language Yeosang. I will marry you” you smile out taking in his lips once again.

You asked for a rose, but Yeosang gave you a whole garden.

Two years later

“Tell me Cupid, what should I tell her? I’m so scared. What if she’s waiting for another man?” the man from across you says, blowing his nose into his now 8th tissue in the past 10 minutes.

“Sir Walker, you clearly love her right?”

“Yes! Oh heavens more than anything, I-I’d kill for her, I’d crawl on my knees for he-” he sighs taking a breath “I don’t imagine a life without her”

“Then fight for her” you say softly.

“She’s lands away from me Cupid! How will I be a man to her if I cant even reach for her?”

“Make that happen. You said you would kill and crawl for her. Put actions to your words Sir Walker and show her you love her. You are living in the same lifetime, right here, right now, don’t regret your choices and lose her. She needs to see you fight for her”

The man breaks down but looks up at you again, composing himself before saying “Have you experienced love Cupid?”

“Everyone experiences love. If not now, one day, just as you wait for love, there is another person waiting for the same. Everyone has someone awaiting them” you softly smile.

“I’ll do it. Tell her I’m coming to get her. I’m not sure when but from today onwards, she will be my focus” the man lets out a broken smile. Broken yet mendable.

“She will be waiting for you Sir Walker” you say before typing away, a paragraph that awaits a new chapter for the couple.

Your night ends with that heartfelt love story. You hope the best for the couple and your heart nearly breaks with his as you also can’t help but think about your person you are waiting for.

The weather outside is mean. Almost in hopes of drowning man in its rage. The thunder roars and you’re left counting sheep in your head- something you’ve been doing ever since you were a kid to calm down.

As you’re walking out of the building Jia calls you from behind “Y/N you have a letter!”

She runs up to you and hands you the letter. “Who is this from?” you ask as you’ve never received a letter before.

“Hm not sure” she looks into a room, clearly distracted by something, or someone as you look at the direction only to see the famous mailman who has been working here years before you joined the company- Tony.

“Um yea I’ll see you tomorrow Y/N I gotta go, bye! Let me know who that letter is from!” she says from a distance practically skipping her way to Tony,

You don't get the chance to even reply to her before she's gone. You look at the letter and there is no address to indicate where it was sent from, which could only mean this letter must have been dropped off by the sender here at the company.

You walk out the building, still sheltered from the awning covering you. Your steps are heavy, unable to move.

It's fine Y/N let's take this slow you thought to yourself deciding to just stand there for a while before making your way home.

You curiously open the letter and start reading it;

Dear Y/N,

How are you? I am writing this letter to you while you are right next to me. I hope you’re not mad about almost kissing you and asking to write a letter instead. It’s just that I wanted to capture my feelings towards you at this given moment, so we can hopefully both look back at this letter.

You asked me if I liked it here. I don’t. I hate the feeling of knowing every movement I make can be my last, and that I won’t be able to say my final goodbye to you. I hate that I go to sleep at night, responsible for another lost man from his lover. I wish I could be able to come home from work and tell you about my day. But what can I tell you? About how many screams I heard? How bloody my hands are after every battle?

You asked me if I think about you. My answer is yes. Painfully yes. I always think about what you could be doing at any time. If you found yourself love. I worry everytime it rains, do you have anyone to hold your hand during thunderstorms? I force myself to repeat your voice in my head because I’m so afraid of forgetting what you sound like. I always remember about the day I took you to the flower field. You looked so beautiful in that moment. So everytime I find a flower, I make sure to stop and admire it, pretending it’s you. Because to me, you are far more beautiful than any flower out there.

I will come home to you Y/N. I promised I would be there. I promised to hold your hand. And I will fulfil my promises, even if it means fighting for my life.

Wait for me my love.

Love,

Yeosang.

“Damn you Yeosang” you chuckled out, a crack in your voice causing tears to slip out. You look up to the sight of the man in reason for these tears. He’s still wearing his uniform, hat covering half his face. He seems to have gotten bigger in physique too. He drops his hat and you smile widely at the sight of his birthmark, now holding smiling eyes.

“It’s raining” he said, reaching out a hand “I’m here to hold your hand.”

You completely ignore the extended hand and crash your body into his for a tight hug. An embrace with no chance of him slipping out.

“You came home” you said into his chest.

“I came to stay”

“And to hold my hand”

“And to hold your hand” he laughs out.

Yeosang was your childhood. Yeosang is your home.

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gejo333 · 1 year

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Do Not Disturb!

Miguel O’Hara x Spider! Reader One-shot

Summary: What happens when a group of young mischievous spiders interrupt a private session between Y/n and Miguel.

18+ Very light mention of smut.

I decided to post something short since I’m a bit delayed on the first chapter! But I promise chapter one of “El Destino” will be out tomorrow!

Sorry if there are any grammatical mistakes💕

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After having a long day on a mission, all Miguel wanted to do was rest in his quarters with you. However, being the leader of spider society didn’t give him a lot of time off.

His eyes tiredly scanned over multiple different screens of multiple different universes, making sure no anomalies popped up. However, a small alarm went off, indicating that a dog from Earth-2157 appeared in Earth-3708.

He didn’t bother going on these menial missions, instead he would ask a spider who can easily fix the mistake.

“Lyla, what Spiders are available to go on a small mission?” Past 10 at HQ many Spiders had already gone back to their universes.

“What?” Miguel asked annoyed by the AI’s sudden laughter.

“Only Hobie, Gwen, Miles, or Pavitr are available still.” Said Lyla as she tried to stop laughing.

“Dios mío.” Miguel sighed in frustration, rubbing his temples to stop an oncoming headache. Those four were the most irritating spiders across the universes. “I don’t care chose any of them.”

Miguel heard light footsteps from behind before feeling arms wrap around his waist. Miguel turned around to face his beloved spider.

“I thought you went to bed early mi amor?” Miguel wrapped his arms around the smaller spider as he placed his lips to yours for a quick sweet kiss.

“I was going to. But the bed is comfier when your in it with me.” The smaller spider wrapped their arms around his neck having to reach up on your tippy toes to do the small gesture.

“I wish I could. But I need to stay here a little longer.” He left another kiss on your lips staying a little longer not wanting it to end. You sadly parted from his lips, needing air when a grin came to your face. You move to his desk and sit on it, spreading your legs slightly as a tease.

“Maybe a small break will help relax you, mhm?” You saw his once tired eyes ignite with excitement and lust as he moved in front of you.

He position his hips in between you, forcing your legs to spread wider. You felt the bump of his erection against you as he pulled you in closer wrapping your arms around his neck, bringing his lips to yours.

You suddenly felt his claws in your thighs making you gasp and allowing his tongue to explore your mouth.

Small moans escaped your lips as you felt his hips moving, grinding his erection against you.

“I want you inside me Papi.” You whispered into his ear. A groan leaves your lips as you feel his erection grow from hearing his nickname.

“Sí, mi amor.” Miguel breathed out. He was about to lower his pants when he hears movement and a forced cough from behind.

In embarrassment, you quickly stand from the desk and stand a few feet from Miguel. Everyone knew you two were a couple, but the thought of being caught made you bright red.

“Sorry to come at a bad time mate.” Said a laughing Hobie.

“What are you four doing here?” Miguel growled. Of course he gets cock-blocked by these four idiots.

“We wanted to say the mission was done. And ask if there were more missions to go on.” Said Gwen whose face was also red from catching the boss and you in action.

“You interrupted me to say that?!” Miguel began to grow furious at their sorry excuse for the disruption.

“If I were you, I would run before he decides to chase you.” You whisper to them.

“Right.” Said Miles as they began back away slowly so to not get Miguel’s attention during his rant. Unfortunately, Pavitr made a noise catching Miguel’s attention who looked like he was about to murder them.

“Run!” Yelled Hobie as the four sprinted out followed by a furious Miguel.

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Translations

Dios Mio= My god!

Mi amor= my love

Hope you enjoyed this short one-shot!

#miguel o'hara #spider man 2099 #spider man: across the spider verse #miguel x reader #oneshot #oneshot requests #pavitr prabhakar #gwen stacy #miles morales #hobie brown #smut

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thatonebirdwrites · 3 months

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A story I've worked on for ages. It's finished, and I'll drop the chapters weekly. (I'm still working on my main fic too. But this one wouldn't let me rest until it was done.) It's pretty personal for me to be honest. EXCERPT:

Lena realizes something is very, very wrong when she feels the heft of a gun in her hand. The fog in her mind lifts slowly as she reclaims her consciousness. She blinks and realizes she’s in a concrete room with a desk to one side.

But far more disturbing is her brother, Lex, who has pushed himself half-up with one arm, the other hugging his abdomen. Her gun points at him. Blood dribbles from his mouth. He laughs, and his words swim through her mind's fog.

“It’s ironic, isn’t it? The very people you fight to protect. Do you know their truth?” He reaches up to grab a remote and turns on the televisions that make up a wall of the bunker.

Lena breathes in sharply. Bunker?

No, no, she can’t be alone with Lex. Bad things always happen.

Fear rises like bile in her throat. Her brother is speaking again, but his words can’t penetrate the growing panic. She blinks at the televisions, but it blurs into a mosaic of color and faint soundscapes.

Her thoughts spark and sizzle like a broken circuit. She hyperventilates, lightheaded, as tears sting her eyes. The gun’s weight pulls her arms down.

He believes this is checkmate. It’s not. Please, let me handle this.

The confident thought lances through her alarm and dismantles her rising panic.

It's like in Kasnia during the self-destruct sequence, when she'd been stuck underground. Time had warped, and she woke in the cool air, the sky studded with stars. In her hands was an air duct grate. Her clothes were rumpled, one heel broken, and streaks of dirt on her legs and arms.

Oh.

Her other self must have fronted like in Kaznia. What are the last things she remembers? She briefly closes her eyes.

Armed guards escorted her to where her brother and Lillian waited in the Presidential room at the White House. Next came the irritating Luthor greetings that served more like threats than any well-wishes. After that, Lex did his usual grandiose show-off of his new toys.

"I found a way to use the alien scourge to give us near-limitless power," he explained with a grin. He turned on the television to show the power output of his plant and a live feed of aliens being led into it. His rant turned toward his goals to destroy all Superman loved with the newly launched satellite weapon — Claymore, powered by that plant. The horror grabbed her by the throat. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't stop the Luthors, and now others were dead because of it.

Then nothing. Time evaporated until she wrestled her way out of the suffocating fog.

And here she wakes in a bunker, a gun in her hand, while her brother bleeds out in front of her.

“Do you see the lies they’ve woven? How they’ve abused your trusting nature? Your broken mind?” he continues with another irritating laugh.

He seeks to manipulate us again. Trust us. Lean into our anger.

Lena takes a steadying breath. That’s right. Her anger and horror at his brutal experiments and murder of aliens. The prison couldn’t hold him, cutting off his assets didn't stop him, escaping his hold on her life failed — all facts she factors into her calculations.

This exact scenario is supposed to be last resort. Her stomach curdles, bile on her tongue. Kieran, wait, what of the other plans?

He hurt us. Hurt Sam. Hurt your Kara. Killed thousands. We had to end the cycle, Lena. Otherwise, he’ll never stop coming.

Stop being cryptic. What the hell happened? She needs to reassess. Is death truly the only solution? She clenches her jaw.

Fine. I confronted him and injected the antidote to Harun-el as we agreed. He demanded we join his genocidal crusade. We will not be his tool anymore. The solidity of the decision warms her from head to toe, even as her heart shatters at the sight in front of her. All her trouble to cure his cancer, her stupid moment of weakness, and he repays it with betrayal and horror. Using her research to weaponize the Harun-el instead.

Lena clears her throat and summons what strength she has left. “You’ve abused me, Lex. You have no ground to stand on.” She tries to avoid looking at the wall of televisions, for what is surely a cleverly crafted way to destroy her yet again. Like he always does. Her lip quivers, and she blinks back the urge to cry.

“Me? Your trusting brother?” Lex laughs then coughs blood into his hand. “I’ve given you the world, Ace. Only ever been truthful. Honed your skills. Toughened you up. Do you still not see the truth? I’ve laid it out for you this time, you stubborn fool!”

Colors leech into gray in her periphery. Her limbs feel puppeted by her other self still. A rare moment of synergy but it leaves her nauseous and her head aching in a growing migraine.

“They’ve all been lying to you,” Lex continues as he laughs and spits up more blood. “Preying on your weaknesses.”

That’s you, Lena thinks. You’ve preyed on us.

But her curiosity overwhelms her, and she can’t ignore the televisions any longer. The scenes capture her gaze, and her ears roar with the orchestra Lex has woven into the security footage he’s stolen. Half the screens are footage from when Mercy attacked L-corp.

#lena luthor #supercorp #kara danvers #sam arias #supergirl fanfiction #supergirl cw #supergirl #reigncorp #queerplatonic relationship #found family #healing #slow burn #angst with a happy ending #DID

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turkeycalamitybff · 2 months

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on my stranger things bullshit again anyway

Holly being a major character this time???? I’ve got SO many things to say about that. Because she’s been foreshadowed to understand more than she’s letting on this ENTIRE TIME. Like I’ve seen no one talk about this but Holly def knows more than she’s letting on. And we’ve been shown that for so long. Look at season three episode seven “The Bite” around 2:50. When the other Wheelers are on the Ferris wheel Holly sees the trees moving, (the mindflayer) and comments on it. Like!!!! She has been in so many background scenes commenting to Karen about things from the upside down. And in season one she is the first one to see the “messages” from Will and the pressing on the wall. Will and Holly are TOTALLY connected. I was genuinely confused when she didn’t get a bigger role in season four but now it makes sense.

Will is what started the series but Holly will end it. And the Duffers legit said that they were paralleling season one (going back to those groups) so wouldn’t it make sense for ANOTHER CHILD CONNECTED TO MIKE WHEELER (who has been intimately connected to the plot each season I feel like) to go missing??? This is the WHEELERS season and no one can convince me otherwise. It’s all about learning that it’s good to be different. It’s about the WHEELER family learning that.

and it helps Karen get involved! Because in all the scenes Holly shows Karen something she could’ve just seen it herself. Holly was, objectively, a character that didn’t have to exist before now. But she does BECAUSE SHE IS CONNECTED TO THE UPSIDE DOWN. My guess is that she is heavily paralleled to Will this season (the title of chapter two one of the biggest examples) and is going to be the main catalyst and I for one am HERE FOR IT.

Will is the main character this season but the Wheelers are the ones who create the plot.

in general the Wheelers have always seemed to be huge. When the Cali gang gets back it would make sense for El to be at the front, correct? Or will? But no, Mike the one “leading the charge” it looks like. He really is the heart. When his sister goes missing?? Oh it’s over for Vecna.

also manifesting a scene after Holly goes missing for Mike to have a mental breakdown about the similarities to when Will was missing and Wills like so confused??? Like Dustin and Lucas see it too and they tell Will about how insane he went and Wills just. Shocked.

also manifesting a scene for the party (or everyone) where they find out what happened at the quarry with Troy in season one bc that was so built up? (Scene where hopper says that for someone to jump off was a death sentence) and then NOTHING happened and I need it to be addressed. Like maybe something similar happens and Dustin comments on it, and everyone finds out?? Just in general I can see how losing his younger sister could lead to Mike nearly committing suicide (that boy is SO depressed, Jesus) also I know this probably actually means nothing but I’ve always thought Holly was getting a bigger role since I saw the episode title “Holly, Jolly” like idk? It always seemed so weird to me and I always thought “oh hollys going to get bigger” and she never did? Also idk the episode title is just plain weird. Like I understand it’s like a play on the Christmas lights and ironic cause no one is happy but what always gets me is the comma. Like I would’ve thought they would’ve named it “Holly Jolly” which in my opinion makes more sense and is more continuos. Plus it wouldn’t bring Holly to mind as much and wouldn’t foreshadow her being part of it. BUT MAYBE they are going to parallel that episode and I won’t be crazy but who knows even. This last paragraph is me ranting.

tl;dr Holly and the Wheelers have been foreshadowed since season one to play a bigger role and to be connected to the upside down and we’re gonna see it in st 5.

#stranger things #mike wheeler #will byers #karen wheeler #st 5 #stranger things season 5 #ted wheeler #nancy wheeler #s03 e07 “The Bite”#I knew she was gonna be a big character from season one episode three but y’all aren’t ready for that #So weird that she always sees the upside down stuff first though #Saw it every season and just tried not to think about it #Can wait for Mike and Nancy to go balastic!#Good for them #s01 e03 “Holly #Dustin henderson #lucas sinclair #wheeler family #Holly wheeler

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moonlight-prose · 1 year

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FOR THE LOVE OF DANGER

╰┈➤ #01: ONE LAST TIME

a/n: so i finally FINALLY saw the movie and even though it's really late since it came out, i'm happy to write for him at last. this is partial brain rot and a partially thought out plot that has been in the works for months. i'd heard of spidey 2099 before, but never thought i'd fall in love with him to this extent. this fic was also supposed to come out last month, but i'm always behind on everything. so i hope y'all enjoy this wild ride.

note: a massive huge fucking THANK YOU to @soulores for being the best beta reader a girl could have. seriously i couldn't have finished this without you.

dedicated to: @sunflowersteves for listening to me rant about how pretty he is and for being the first person to ever hear about this plot. thank you for being one of the best person here babes.

summary: when things go awry in your life you find yourself back at el nido - a comfort spot in the darker parts of the city - in need of peace. only to run into him.

word count: 8.5k+ (somehow???)

pairing: miguel o'hara x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, cussing, angst, alcohol consumption, one night stands, p in v sex, rough sex, cumeating if you squint, cumplay if you really really squint, my awful attempts at dirty talk, soft miguel, the start of chaos.

NEXT CHAPTER | SERIES MASTERLIST

NUEVA YORK 2099; EARTH-298

Let’s do this one last time.

My name is Miguel O’Hara… and I’m scared.

You couldn’t breathe, the speed of your heart rate nearly caused you to believe you were going into cardiac arrest. Some small part of your brain wanted to actually check. It wasn’t hard to simply waltz right into the nearest hospital. Although dealing with the disbelief on doctors and nurses faces as you asked them to check if you were dying pushed you away from the idea altogether.

Another day at a job that didn’t allow you to have anything, left you seeking out the only thing you knew would help. An old dive bar still resided in the lower part of the city—The Nest, or as the owner called it El Nido—as local folk often referred to it. Although you were more than happy to call it a safe haven.

Everything was so pristine where you worked, so perfect. But The Nest was simply a small hole in the wall that helped people find a spot to feel safe for an hour or two. You tended to avoid going there on weekdays, but seeing as how you were about to be fired from your job…you felt it was necessary.

Sighing, you hitched your bag up higher on your shoulder, the weariness from the day finally settling its weight over you. What you wouldn’t give to be asleep right now, curled up in bed. Except you couldn’t go home. Not when all that remained was the dreaded time spent waiting for tomorrow. The day they would more than likely—officially—ask you to leave.

“Sorry,” you muttered, accidentally slamming into a woman walking hand in hand with her partner. The man glared at you, the gaze enough for you to quicken your step towards your destination.

The smell of the bar was exactly the same. Ricky always loved incense, and while you claimed it would drive customers away, he somehow made it work. Letting out a calming breath, you headed right towards your stool at the bar. The worn in leather a comfort after sitting in a stiff backed office chair all day. It was partially ripped and practically ruined, but you could already feel the stress melt off your body.

“Mi florita!” Ricky shouted, handing off a drink to an older man with white hair.

“Hey Ricky—oof—” He leaned across the bar, dragged you closer, and planted a sloppy kiss on your cheek. His breath was tinged with cinnamon and a hint of mint—letting you know he’d been drinking his favorite tea all day.

Nonetheless you smiled at his kind gesture. Ricky was like the cousin you had never had, but always wanted. Standing at around six feet with tattoos going up and down his tanned arms and his hair chopped into a mess of wild curls, he was your favorite person. The one you always sought out in times of trouble, if anything just to laugh. Unfortunately he couldn’t say the same for you. He loved his boyfriend too much to put you higher up on the scale—or so he claimed.

“How’s the job?” He poured you a martini, extra dry, extra dirty. “Are you playing nice with all the fancy folk?”

You chuckled, taking a sip and letting the alcohol burn its way down. “The fancy folk are slowly driving me insane.”

“Uh oh.”

Another sip caused yet another part of your stress to fade. “I don’t understand why it’s so hard for them to give me the same leniency they offer to other employees.” You sighed, dragging a hand down your face. “I mean it won’t matter anyways tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Ricky slid a drink to the person sitting a stool away from you, taking the small amount of cash he offered.

“The day I’m probably gonna get fired.”

“What?” he exclaimed, nearly causing the glass of whiskey in front of him to spill over.

You shrugged. “It’s not a big deal. I can just…find a new place to work at. I mean there has to be other labs in need of a biochemist. Right?”

He hesitated, his eyes flickering to the bottle in his hands. “Florita…” Your stomach dropped, the severity of the situation finally dawning on you—turning your once rose hued glasses clear.

They were going to ask you to leave and because it was Alchemax, there was no other option but for you to beg for forgiveness. An act you had sworn to yourself that you’d never do. You were a good scientist. Hell you were the best in that fucking lab, yet they couldn’t see past the fact that you wanted to go your own way. To carve your own path in a company that was adamant on placing you in a box. Keeping you perfectly pristine for those on the outside—those that might wish to give you freedom.

Holding up your hand, you stopped him from saying anything else. If shit was meant to go sideways tomorrow, then so be it. You’d go out like a champion, worthy of whatever came next. Downing the remainder of your drink you slid the empty glass towards Ricky, nodding at him to fill it up. At least with that he didn’t hesitate, knowing you needed something to take the edge off—your night already taking a turn for the worst.

“Just gotta keep going,” you muttered, staring at the liquid in the hopes that it would magically fix everything.

“You got this chica.” Words that seemed empty at a time like this somehow brought a small smile to your lips.

Taking another sip you thanked him softly and watched him wander off to the other side of the bar, his eyes set on a group of men that were most likely there to buy out the bar. It happened every once in a while, but you couldn’t exactly fault them. They were here to have fun, to make an otherwise regular night memorable. They certainly weren’t here to wallow in their drinks, swallowing down their misery in the hopes of finding something good to take away.

“Shit,” you muttered when you came to the bottom of the glass again, your finger tracing the rim.

“Firing a biochemist is the stupidest thing a lab could do.”

You jumped when someone’s voice came from beside you—the man a stool away now focusing the entirety of his attention on you. Perhaps it was the vodka or the low neon lights of the bar, but you could have sworn his eyes were red. The color so striking it sent a chill down your spine—as if he was analyzing you with one simple glance. For a second you forgot he even said anything—too busy taking in his soft brown hair and strong jaw—until his lips quirked up into a grin.

One that made your heart flip in your chest, heat rising beneath your cheeks.

“Eavesdropping?” you inquired, gathering enough courage to confront him about his blatant behavior.

His lips pulled up on one side, something glimmering in his eyes that had you hooked the longer he looked at you. “Lo siento,” he said softly—his voice slightly mumbled. “Didn’t mean to. I just heard you talking about something that interests me.”

“Ah.” You glanced away to escape his penetrating stare, if for a chance to catch the breath in your lungs. “So you’re a scientist.”

Pride bloomed in your chest when he was caught off guard. His glass halfway to his mouth when the statement left your mouth. Once again that mysterious light flickered to life again, a soft chuckle leaving his lips and causing your heart to erratically beat in your chest. Taking a sip, he gently set the now empty glass back on the bar. The tension was so thick you swore you could slice it in half, heat spilling into your body.

“You’re observant.”

Shrugging, you took your own sip—the alcohol no longer burning your throat. “It wasn’t hard to figure out. What else from that conversation would interest you?”

“You.”

The words were out of his mouth before you could even finish the question, your breath catching at the sound of them. Your day had been shit. Enough to rival doomsday itself, but there you were sitting at a bar with him. A man who’s name you didn’t know. The smile spread across your lips before you could stop it, your eyes roving down his figure in an attempt to make him feel half of what he stirred in you.

“Let me buy you a drink?” you asked, pointing to his empty glass.

“I thought I was supposed to ask you that?”

Your smile widened. “Then ask me.”

For the second time that night he was caught off guard, his eyes widening slightly. The song behind you shifted, a low tune you could feel reverberating through you as he changed seats, taking the stool directly beside you. He moved silently, his thighs pressed tightly against yours as he got comfortable in the spot—his arm brushing yours.

The first thing you noticed was how warm he was—as if his body was a personal heater. But that was pushed out of your mind, replaced by the second thing. He looked at you clearly, hair falling onto his forehead slightly until you finally saw it. The actual color of his eyes. Crimson irises caught you in their hold, keeping you until he was satisfied—drinking you in, he trailed his gaze over the entirety of your body.

“Can I buy you a drink?” he murmured, his breath fanning across your face, body unconsciously leaning in.

You inhaled sharply, watching as his eyes lit up at your reaction to his proximity, his hand sliding closer until his fingers brushed against your wrist. Suddenly your shitty day was but a mere memory in the back of your mind. Entirely forgotten in favor of him. He was so large you swore he blocked everything else, filling your eyesight with nothing else but his frame. The breadth of his shoulders, the length of his torso and how he had to hunch over slightly to get close to you.

“What’s your name?” you inquired finally, your words breathy and dazed.

He grinned, hand curving around your wrist and pulling your hand towards him. “What’s yours?”

“I asked you first.”

Leaning in so close until you felt his chest brush your shoulder, his lips met your ear, sending chills down your spine. “Miguel,” he breathed, smiling at the way you practically melted into him.

For a brief moment you forgot you were sitting in the middle of a bar, people surrounding the two of you. When in fact it felt like nothing remained except you and him and the song playing behind you. Your exhale was shaky, representing the way you felt on the inside. As if he’d pulled you apart with a single word, his body heat affecting your brain—turning it to mush.

“Miguel…” Your hand curved around the front of his jacket, eyes meeting his as he moved, brushing his lips across your cheek.

“Hm?”

Something heady built in your chest, solidifying the truth you knew the second you started talking to him. You wouldn’t be leaving this bar alone. You simply hoped he was on the same page as you, but the way he hooked his arm around your waist, thighs bracketing your frame told you everything you needed to know. He was not only on the same page; he was flipping forward, reading a future that had yet to occur.

You almost wanted to ask him if he liked what he saw. If—by some odd chance—there was something more than this fiery electricity between the two of you.

“You still want that drink bebita?”

Words evaded you the longer he sat there, filling the space with nothing but him. How he smelled, how he sounded, fuck even the way his lips felt dragging against your skin as he spoke. You wanted to ask where he came from. How you’d never seen him in this bar before—your life now altered because of something so small. Simply a conversation. Yet now you couldn’t see yourself ending the night without him.

“No,” you sighed, shifting until your lips were a hairsbreadth from his. “You?”

He shook his head.

“I…” Your teeth dug into your bottom lip. “I don’t usually do this.”

Grinning, he raised your chin slightly with his knuckle, eyes catching you once more in their web, snaring you in a trap so saccharine you could taste it on your tongue. “Your pace.”

And with two simple words you were his. Captured happily in something you never wanted to be rid of. You smiled, your other hand sliding up into his hair, and finally the weight of your day lifted entirely off your shoulders. The question of whether or not he wanted to kiss you was on the tip of your tongue, but like before…he was miles ahead of you. With a small grin, he tipped your face towards his, catching your lips in a kiss you felt down to your fingertips.

He didn’t kiss you gently, languidly taking his time as if you were both here until the sun went up. No, that was nothing like what you expected. He devoured you. Stole every gasp, sound, and sigh you could have let out; his hand holding you exactly where he wanted you. Miguel kissed you like you were his only source of oxygen. And you let him. You bent to his will with ease, giving into every touch.

Whining softly, you tugged sharply on his hair when his tongue swept across your bottom lip. The taste of his drink now seeping into your mouth. You didn’t even question letting him in, desperate to know what he tasted like—what his tongue felt like licking deeply into you. Shivers ran down your spine when his hand gripped your hip tightly, pulling you closer until you sat on the very edge of the stool.

“Fuck,” he rumbled, pulling away and sliding his lips along your jaw.

“Oh…” Your breath was a sharp gasp when his fingers trailed down your throat, cupping it so quickly you could have sworn you imagined it. But the heat that spilled into your stomach told you otherwise.

His lips were heaven on your skin, nipping and licking until you were sure that certain spots would be tender tomorrow morning. You didn’t care. He could have sunk his teeth directly into your neck and you’d still ask for more. Somewhere in between talking and the tension, you lost any sense of worry. Those feelings went out the window the second he moved closer.

“I um—” Pushing at his chest, you reluctantly parted with the realization that you were still in public, and fucking against the bar would certainly make Ricky ban you for life. So he fell back, his lips swollen and spit slicked—pupils blown wide until the black began to bleed into the red. A swirl of brilliant color.

He smirked, taking in your disheveled appearance, all thanks to him. You had half a mind to drag him back to the bathroom, but the burning glare of Ricky was currently being seared into the side of your head. Without a doubt you knew it said: “You fuck in my bar you’re not coming back.” So you gathered whatever control you had over yourself and downed the remainder of your now tepid drink.

“My apartment is two blocks from here,” you began, exhaling a shaky breath as you finally took the leap for what you wanted. “We can be there in five minutes.”

Miguel nodded, yanking out his wallet and tossing down enough cash to cover not only his drinks, but yours as well. Which was your sign to grab your things. No words had to be said, because the intent was clear to the both of you. He was here to find the same relief you were—something to take his mind off of life for a little while.

Waving a quick goodbye towards Ricky, you followed Miguel out of the bar into the cool night air of the city. You were beneath the depths of the main part, where people didn’t necessarily travel to. But you’d grown up there. It remained a place where you still felt like you belonged. He didn’t say anything, he didn’t have to. Not when the intentions for the night were clear to both of you. But that didn’t stop him from reaching down and slipping your hand into his, clasping your fingers together as you walked down the street.

Such a small act of tenderness—barely noticeable to anyone walking past—but meant so much more.

“What brought you to El Nido?” you asked, leading him down the street where your apartment building resided. It wasn’t a drastic question, but you couldn’t help your curiosity.

You were a scientist after all.

He shrugged, thumb running along your knuckles. “Needed a night out.”

“Let me guess…” You turned—walking backwards the best you could—regarding him with a suspicious expression. The small smile on his lips caused your heart to thump a little faster. “You’re getting fired tomorrow too?”

For the first time that night you heard him laugh. The sound, soft and low and by all means something you wanted to hear over and over again.

“No.” He took in a breath, his crimson eyes searching the dark streets for nothing in particular—the hair on the back of his neck suddenly standing up. “I’m…trying to figure out something.”

“A problem?”

He sighed. “You could say that.”

“Well I think—”

You didn’t get to finish your sentence, his arm jerking you forward until you fell into his chest, wrapped tightly to him as a horn echoed loudly behind you. A car sped past, turning rapidly onto the street and disappearing around the corner—leaving the both of you in silence. Your breath came in quickly, eyes wide as fear ran streaked your body, turning you cold. And Miguel watched after the car, his eyes narrowed and body tensed—as if he was ready to take off after them.

That is until he felt your hands press against his chest softly, drawing his attention back to you.

“T-Thank you,” you gasped, trying to calm the adrenaline that rushed through you.

There was no mistaking what would have happened if he hadn’t pulled you close; if his reflexes hadn’t kicked in so quickly. You wanted to ask him how he did it. How he knew the car was coming, but the words were trapped in the back of your throat. The shock had started to flood your system. His hand cupped your cheek, thumb running along your jaw in a soothing motion that seemed to slow the panic filtering through your body. You wondered if he even knew he was doing it—the touch yet another reflex to slow the racing of your heart.

To bring you back down to Earth.

“Okay?” he murmured, his eyes tracing the curve of your face, watching your eyelids flutter for a moment as you met his gaze once more.

You nodded, lightly gripping his wrist simply for the sake of comfort. “I’m okay.”

The night was no doubt effectively altered. Not necessarily ruined, but you couldn’t go on the way you were before. No teasing words, no light conversation. Instead you walked in silence. His hand clasped in yours and guard up in case of something else happening until you reached your place.

You were surprised to find that you enjoyed the silence while you walked. As if Miguel offered you a sense of safety and comfort you never had before; your body responding differently than you expected. Sure, you were attracted to him, but you couldn’t deny the pull you felt towards him when it came to this. To needing safety in the midst of possible danger.

“This is me,” you said, pulling out your key from your pocket—the hallway light dim and nearly extinguished. You had to remember to speak to the building manager about it tomorrow.

He grinned slightly, waiting patiently for the door to swing open with a soft creak as you entered. While you wouldn't call your small and rather overpriced apartment perfect, it felt more like a home than even he expected it to be. A small kitchen gave way into a bigger living room. Your record player was placed on top of an aged wooden table—piles of books stacked haphazardly through the place.

Miguel eyed the various plants you’d managed to keep alive—each of them pointed towards the one large window on the opposite wall. A place where sunlight no doubt streamed in on early mornings.

He originally believed it would look modern; more like the outside city and world as a whole. Yet your home resembled something old. A place that stood still against the ravages of time—as if it were merely a museum and he was there to admire its antiques.

“I know it’s not much.” You shifted a small pile of clean clothes off the chair, moving it towards an empty laundry basket in the hallway.

“It’s nice,” he said, and he actually meant it. “Es acogedor.”

You could see the truth in his eyes, the flicker of something familiar coming through the crimson. As if he’d known a life like this once. You wanted to ask him. See if he’d tell you more than just his name—perhaps why his eyes were that color—but you knew tonight wasn’t about making this more than it was. In reality you both needed this. No strings, no commitment. Merely two people looking to release themselves from the heaviness of the day.

He turned, catching you staring blatantly at him. “You want me to make you a drink?”

The question threw you off and your expression must have given you away—his lips curling into a grin. “I thought I was supposed to ask you that?”

Heat curled low in your stomach, spreading with every step he took until the tips of his shoes met yours. He bent down, hand curling around the nape of your neck, fingers digging in slightly. Chills spread down your spine, goosebumps rising along your arms, and for a brief moment you wanted to live in this. To remain oblivious to everything happening around you.

Everything except him.

He brought his lips closer, his breath washing across your cheek. “So ask me,” he breathed.

“Do you want me to—”

Cutting you off he dragged you closer, practically hauling you up to his chest as his lips covered yours. It sent your mind reeling, your hands digging into his hair as if on instinct. As if you knew exactly what he wanted. As if…you’d done this before. Something intoxicating built up in your body, turning your brain foggy when his hands slid down, cupping your ass and dragging a moan from your throat.

He met your sound with one of his own—a ragged grunt that came from low in his chest. The echo of it reverberating through your body. You knew what this was. What it wouldn’t become. Yet you couldn’t stop the longing in your heart—the yearning that refused to be locked away in your mind. You wondered what it would be like if this was more. Would it always feel this…electric?

Something pulled you together and you couldn’t determine what it was. Except at that moment you couldn’t even determine your own name.

His tongue swept in your mouth, shoving all your thoughts aside and bringing forth something new. A feeling so strong you found yourself grasping for him tighter, pulling him closer as he licked deeply into you—tasting the alcohol on your tongue.

“Bedroom,” you gasped, yanking on the strands of his hair and earning another delicious grunt.

“Donde—”

“Down the hall.”

Stumbling back you felt his hand hitch your leg over his hip, nearly dragging you with him. Yet you could hardly complain. You were pretty sure that if he let you go you’d go falling to the ground from his touch alone. He moved your head where he wanted, lips slotting over yours and spit nearly trailing down your chin. A rush of slick poured into your panties, your nails scratching along his scalp as he nearly hit the wall, pressing you against it and hitching your other leg up.

“Fuck.”

You tried to tell him that you needed more, that you wanted him inside of you, but all that came out was a breathy moan. His hips grinded into yours, a soft moan being pressed to the shell of your ear, and that alone nudged you towards something earth-shattering.

His lips slid back along yours, hands grasping for any skin he could reach as you practically shoved your hips against his. The desperation practically seeped into the air—permeating your tongue with its cloying flavor. Words were exchanged for moans, tender moments now shifting into something quicker and faster. You wanted to feel him against you as fast as humanly possible, but Miguel was eager to remain here. Holding you up against the wall and kissing you until you ran out of oxygen.

“So I take it that’s a no on the drink?” you breathed, smiling at the small frustrated sound echoed in the back of his throat.

“Cállate,” he grunted, hiking you up and grinning at the yelp that was muffled into his mouth.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you felt him begin to move—heading towards your bedroom. The door remained open from earlier and you thanked yourself for making sure to keep the place tidy before leaving for work today. Before you could detach yourself from him and lead him to your bed, he turned and sat down. Taking you with him until you were sprawled on his lap.

“Tú eres hermoso,” you mumbled against his lips, watching in delight as his expression shifted. Surprise spreading across his chiseled features.

“I’m supposed to say that to you,” he replied, a small grin playing on his lips.

You shrugged, pressing your lips to his jaw. “Guess we’re doing tonight backwards.”

He chuckled, sliding his hands beneath your shirt until it was clear that he wanted it off. You complied with ease. Allowing him to drop the fabric to the floor as his eyes fell to your chest, taking in the pretty lace of your bra. The crimson you’d come to admire darkened to something you’d call a burgundy—lust clouding his gaze. He wanted to take you apart. To see the inner workings of your body—your mind. Anything he could get his hands on. And you’d let him.

There was no doubt that Miguel had gotten beneath your skin in such a short amount of time. He filled your home with a feeling you hadn’t had before. Something tangible and real. Something you wanted to keep.

“Guapísima,” he murmured, hands cupping your breasts, thumbs brushing over the spot where your nipples poked through the fabric. A soft jolt rolled down your spine at the feeling.

Warmth clung to your chest, filling you to the brim with a sensation you’d only had once before in your life. Only this was different. This didn’t feel new or like you were just discovering it. No, this felt familiar. As if it had been hiding away in your heart, biding its time until you crossed his path—until you found one another. You wanted to wrap yourself in it, sink into its comfort, and you wondered if he felt it too.

The strange way all of this felt right.

Like coming home after being away for so long.

“Miguel,” you gasped when his mouth trailed down to your chest. The heat of his lips sticking to your already burning skin—his tongue trailing along the tops of your breasts.

He pulled down the fabric, taking your nipple into his mouth—practically lighting up on the inside when you cried out softly. Your hand dug into his hair, tugging on the strands as he scraped his teeth against you. Drawing out every sound he could find hidden in the depths of your chest. Your hips ground against him, clit pulsing with a need that would only be satiated by his touch.

For a moment you worried that he wouldn’t continue his path. That he’d ignore the way you were practically panting for him—the pleas falling from your lips with ease. But then his hand dipped beneath your waistband, fingers trailing along the edge of your panties. Your eyes nearly rolled back, hips canting up as you tried to get him to go further—to release you of this agony. But he held still. Entirely focused on driving you to the very brink of insanity; continuing the path with his teeth and tongue along your chest until the skin was tender.

“Impatient are we?” he mused, nose brushing against your jaw—the grin prominent in his voice.

You huffed, gripping tightly onto his hair and dragging his head up. “A tease are we?”

A moan ripped from his throat, his hips jolting up into yours at the slight sting of pain that bloomed in his head. His eyes were heavy, mouth parted as he took in a deep breath, and you could have sworn that you’d never see a prettier sight again. He looked at you as one would a statue in a museum. Tracing the curves and dips of your body with eyes that resembled the color of blood. Eyes that would never leave your mind again.

His tongue swept across his bottom lip, teeth protruding outwards slightly and you had half a mind to ask him about it. To question how exactly he had fangs, but your desire won out on the logical part of your mind. Leaning forward you licked your tongue along them, feeling how he shivered beneath your touch—how his body sang a tune you could match.

“Careful,” he rumbled, his hand pressing against your back and bringing you even closer. “I might bite.”

You smiled, sliding your palms beneath the collar of his shirt, the hot skin beneath warming your cold fingers instantly. “Sounds like a promise to me.”

“I’m not good with promises.” He let you pull his shirt up, raising his arms and helping where you couldn’t reach.

Even you couldn’t deny there was something so domestic about this. How he carefully shifted you so that you were now pressed into the mattress. His large frame looming over you—hair falling into his eyes as he looked down. It felt natural; the fluid movements were almost instinctive. Like your bodies knew what to do before you could even comprehend anything happening. You wanted to blame the alcohol—or hell perhaps it was the lust that was making you slightly lose it—but you saw it beneath the surface of his slightly guarded expression.

He felt it too.

Perhaps even more.

“Come here,” you breathed, cupping the back of his neck and bringing his lips back where they belonged—where they felt the most right.

You felt his hands fall to the waistband of your pants, popping open the button and you were quick to raise your hips, helping him push them down. There was a swiftness to his movements. Like he knew what you wanted before you did—something telling him that you were ready to keep going. But that would be scientifically impossible. No one could predict things that way. Yet you couldn’t help but go back to the color of his eyes—the fangs that now scraped along your throat and down your shoulder.

He seemed to be a scientific marvel. Something unknown.

“Your tur—oh—” Your head fell back, lips falling open when his hand dipped even lower, fingers sliding into your soaked panties.

A groan echoed in the room, his lips finding yours again as he gathered the slick that pooled at your entrance and dragged it back to your clit. Setting a slow and maddening pace that had you grasping for his shoulders. Your nails pricked the skin so hard you knew there would be marks later. He pressed down, sparks scorching your body, and grinned at your reaction. How your eyes squeezed shut, leg kicking out and hips pushing into his hand.

“So wet for me.” He sunk one finger into you, tearing a whine from your throat.

“Mig—” The breath caught in your lungs. “I want—fuck—please…”

He shushed you gently, lips sliding against yours messily as he worked you open, slipping another finger into you with ease. “I know amorcito. I’ve gotta open you up for me.”

Something pulled at your stomach, tightening slowly as he continued to pump his fingers into you—the wet squelch of your slick echoing in the room. You knew you were dripping down his hand, that he was able to slip in a third finger as he went. But that didn’t mean he would stop. No Miguel had become hooked on the sounds coming from your lips—the moans that you didn’t try to stifle. He curled his fingers and struck against the spongy part of your walls that made you practically curl up into him.

A surprised cry fell from your lips, eyes flying open to see his lips curl into a small grin, before he doubled down. Shifting the angle, he made sure to press the pads of his fingers in the same spot each time, his thumb swiping along your clit. And you felt that building pressure shift. It clawed its way up your throat, settling in your chest as he murmured soft words of praise.

“Dámelo,” he breathed against your lips. “Give it to me bebita.”

As if your body was following his request, you shattered. A choked cry of his name was swallowed by his kiss, his tongue licking deeply into your mouth—fingers rapidly moving to prolong your pleasure. It was too much, yet not enough. The hunger—the desire—screamed in your chest, begging for him to keep going, for this to be more than just one night. Yet you couldn’t speak.

You gulped in air, legs shaking when the pleasure slowly began to fade into a slight pain. But Miguel wasn’t done. He was far from it. Your heart pounded in your chest when he slipped his fingers into his mouth, moaning at the taste of your release—the shiny stickiness on his palm letting you know how wet you really were.

“Sabes deliciosa,” he murmured, pressing his tongue back into your mouth and sharing the taste of you.

Your hand fell to his pants, pulling at the buckle of his belt as he shifted—making room between your legs to lay over you. His hand pressing into the mattress above your head. The all encompassing feeling of him surrounded you; pressed you into the small haven he created with his body. Keeping you from the rest of the world as you lost yourselves in each other.

“Your belt is being difficult,” you huffed, head falling back against the pillow.

He laughed, opening it with ease and effectively earning a glare from you.

Miguel had to admit there was an ease to being around you. The weight he usually felt hanging atop his shoulders had been lifted—his mind suddenly clearer and mood better. He wanted to figure out why that was, but you were looking at him with a gaze that caused his heart to stutter. The urge to remain close to you seemed to overtake every other thought that ran through his mind. He rid himself of his pants, helping you pull down the lacy fabric—his lips sliding along your inner calf as he did so.

The light touch of your palm grasping on his hand brought his gaze back up—your small smirk rendering him speechless. Miguel had only been this way a few times in his life. All instances he could count on one hand, but this—you—were bringing out an emotion he would have rather kept locked away. Nervousness.

Leaning up on your elbows, you met him halfway, your arm going around his shoulders as he leaned down to kiss you. It was by all means…sweet. The passion remained, lingering beneath the surface and searing through your veins, but something else took over. A feeling he wanted to keep.

“Since we’re doing this backwards,” you whispered, brushing your lips against his and cupping his cheek.

Locking your leg around his hip, you used the leverage of his surprise to send him into the mattress, your hands falling to his chest as you perched yourself in his lap. Your lips formed around a smile when he grunted. The feeling of your bare pussy now spread along his cock—your slick dripping down and coating his length—was divine.

“Mierda.” His hands grasped your hips, grinding you forward a bit until the head of cock brushed your clit, ripping a gasp from your chest.

“F-fuck—” Your head fell forward, teeth digging into your lip.

“You’re gonna fuck me amorcito?” he asked, a flash of something dangerous echoing in his eyes. “Gonna ride me?”

You nodded, mouth falling open when he pressed against your entrance. Whatever comment you had died in the back of your throat when he began to sink into you—a slight sting of pain streaking up your spine as you took him slowly. He wasn’t kidding about needing to open you up, but still it was a stretch. A soft whisper of praise echoed in your ear, his thumb circling your clit to counteract the pain. Even still you dug your nails into his chest, no doubt leaving marks that would bruise later on.

“You can take it,” he murmured, thumb curling around your chin. “You can take it like a good girl.”

A whine caught in your throat, your hips canting down with each small thrust until you were seated in his lap again. His cock filling you completely—the stuffed sensation nearly too much for you. Miguel leaned up, catching your lips in a soft kiss; giving you time to adjust. Yet you felt the sharp need of desire work its way through your body, begging for you to keep going, to take everything he would give you.

“How do you feel?” He pulled at your bottom lip with his thumb, his other hand cupping your ass.

“F-Full,” you whimpered.

“Go ahead,” he said softly, allowing you to lift yourself off his cock slowly—slick coating him down to the coarse hair at his base.

The pace was lazy, barely even there, and he watched. His eyes tracked each movement you made, each time your hips shifted forward to change the angle. He burned the image of you fucking yourself on his cock into his brain—watching as you did exactly what you said you were going do. Ride him.

Scraping your nails down his stomach, you heard him groan, his hips thrusting up slightly and forcing a cry from your throat. You wanted more. Wanted to feel him fuck you into the mattress, but the familiar pressure was already forming again. Building in your stomach with each stunted thrust—the head of his cock brushing against the spot he’d found earlier.

“I’m—” Your head fell back, hips shifting forward to catch it perfectly—eyes squeezing shut. “‘M gonna—o-oh…”

“That’s it,” he rasped, guiding your hips and slamming you down onto him with a strength that made you sob, your hands grasping for any part of him you could reach. “Cum on my cock amorcito. Wanna see you—ah fuck—”

Your hips stuttered, eyes rolling back as the wave crashed over you, nearly pulling you under. A cry echoed in the room, your walls clamping down, and for a moment you felt nothing but bliss. You went blind with it, your body tipping forward into him as he continued to move you in short thrusts, dragging it on even more. Miguel grunted against your throat, sitting up fully and holding you close as you rode out your release, your body practically falling limp against him.

Eventually you felt yourself come back, your hands dragging through his hair as he placed kisses up and down your neck, arms tightening around you. Your legs barely worked, head still fuzzy with the intensity of your orgasm. But the desire still remained, stroking the fire slowly until it once again began to seep through your system. Warming your body.

He was still hard, throbbing against your fluttering walls. That alone caused you to moan softly, your hips shifting down and lips pressing against his jaw.

“You didn’t finish,” you murmured, nails scraping against the back of his neck. The small goosebumps that appeared had a lazy smile curling on your lips.

He ached for that sweet release, wanted to flip you over and chase it, but he didn’t want to leave. At least not yet. There was something about taking his time with you that called to the part of him that had always wanted more. A part he’d crushed over and over again. Claiming it wasn’t necessary. There was no room in his life for that irritating emotion people referred to as love—no space in his heart.

Until a space began to slowly open up. He could barely find it, barely even see the small gash you’d made in the armor around his heart. But he’d discover it eventually.

“I want to see you cum,” you said softly, eyes glimmering with need.

“Bebita—”

Licking along his bottom lip you felt his cock twitch, his fingers digging into the flesh of your ass a little harder. “Want to feel it, Miguel. Need it.”

“Shit.” He felt the breath get punched from his lungs, your words sending a streak of heat down his spine. “Yeah? You want it that bad?”

You nodded, lifting yourself on shaky legs only to drop back down, impaling yourself on his cock. He spit out another broken curse, his head falling back briefly before you were tossed back—your body slamming against the mattress. You yelped, eyes going wide when he shifted over you, body covering yours in a way that had a haze settling in your mind. He grinned, fangs digging into his bottom lip as he spread your thighs—hooking them over his forearms and nearly bending you in half.

“All you had to do was ask,” he purred, guiding himself back into your dripping pussy and sinking in with ease.

Gasping, you clawed at his shoulders when he hit so much deeper, the angle changing everything. You wanted to shout his name, to tell him how good it felt, but he’d already started to pull back, shoving himself into you with a strength that sent you up the bed. A ragged sound was pulled from your chest, eyes rolling back when he brushed against that spot so much easier—grinding against it in a way that had your body going numb with pleasure.

“Look at you taking me so well,” he muttered, curling over your body and sending your knees up near your head.

“O-Oh…god!”

“Cosita linda.” His body was tense, teeth baring as he continued to pound into you at a pace that built your release so quick it burned through you. “Pretty fucking thing. Letting me fuck you like this. Perfecta—”

You cried out, nails breaking the skin of his back—leaving deep marks. Tears streamed down your temples, spit falling down your chin when he leaned in to kiss you. He was everywhere. His scent permeated your senses, taste now permanently etched on your tongue, and yet that still wasn’t enough. There was something about him that made you want to crack open your heart and give it to him. Offer yourself up entirely in the hopes he’d accept. He surrounded you, filled your entire being with nothing but him, and you loved it.

Your body went taut, eyes flying open to see him staring down where you were connected, how his cock disappeared into your leaking pussy.

He smiled, hands digging into your hips so tight it sparked a delicious pain when you sobbed incoherently. “I can feel you.” His breath stuttered when your walls clamped down—brows pulling tight and mouth falling open in a silent shout. “That’s it. C’mon—” He gasped, fingers falling to your aching clit and circling it quickly. “Cum on my fucking cock. Soak me.”

This time the release wasn’t built steadily to give you time to prepare. You could barely breathe, your lungs screaming for some small amount of air. Yet your body seemed to be solely focused on one thing. A broken shout of his name left your lips, echoing in the room, combining sinfully with the sound of skin against skin and your slick. His thumb found your clit, pinching it between his fingers and something in you broke.

It slammed into you unexpectedly, dragging out a loud keening wail—white flashing behind your tightly closed eyes as it rushed through you. Flooded every sense you had until all you could comprehend was him chasing his own release. He fucked into you with short stunted thrusts until he fell forward, his lips colliding with yours—a ragged cry being pressed into your mouth.

He spurted into your already dripping pussy, filling you deliciously and sending another flicker of warmth down to the tips of your fingers. His chest heaved, lips swollen and eyes dazed, and you wanted to solidify the sight in your mind. Except the reality of what this was would eventually come crashing back down. Reminding you that he was not yours to have. That you were simply two passing stars in a tangled web of this universe, meant to part ways.

He let your legs fall back to the bed, slipping out of you with a hiss before he flopped onto his back, dragging you with him. His cum dripped down your inner thigh, smearing against the skin. But for now you let it happen. Content to remain right there, feeling his chest rise and fall as he attempted to catch his breath. His fingers traced lightly along your spine, line after line until you realized what it was that he was drawing.

A web.

Or at least…that’s what it felt like.

“I don’t think I can move,” you mumbled, smiling into his skin when he laughed—the sound low and rough.

“That’s a good thing I hope,” he replied, glancing down at you—eyes tracing the curve of your hip and breast that pressed into his side.

You placed a kiss on his shoulder, hand splaying across his stomach. “Definitely.”

Silence enveloped the both of you like a comfortable blanket, filling the space with a soft feeling. It lulled you into a state of peace. Sleep nearly overtaking you. Yet you fought against it. Too busy taking in what he looked like—attempting to commit him to memory lest you never see him again. You wanted him burned into your brain, each memory tattooed into place permanently. But that’s not how life went.

This wasn’t a fairytale, and he wasn’t yours.

So you settled against his body, soaking in the warmth he emanated and allowed your eyes to flutter shut. His breath came in slower, arm curling around you as he fell asleep gradually—his heart a steady thrum in his chest. An echo that allowed sleep to drag you beneath the surface, giving way to something peaceful.

The loud angry beep of your alarm clock jolted you awake, your eyes flying open and body aching as you sat up quickly. There was a mess of blankets on your floor, obviously kicked off in the middle of the night. It seemed that with the heat of the outside world and his body, you were content to sleep with a thin sheet wrapped around you. Yet where you expected to find clothes left haphazardly around the room, you found nothing.

Your clothes that had been stripped off now lay in a pile on your chair, shoes placed by the end of your bed. Last night was clear to you now. The all consuming bliss, the way he had felt buried inside of you—how he had touched you. And while you understood it was merely a one night stand. You couldn’t stop the disappointment from seeping into your chest.

The sight of him completely erased from your apartment put a damper on an otherwise good morning.

Sighing, you swung yourself into a sitting position at the end of your bed. A throbbing headache began to spread along your skull. No doubt the cause of waking up too fast. Either that or the alcohol had actually decided to give you a bitch of a hangover. You’d have to figure that out later. The reminder of what the day held for you flickered bright and blaring in your mind—killing whatever joy you had left in your chest.

“Fuck,” you spit, dropping your head in your hands as you finally settled on one conclusion. You were about to be fired.

You had about an hour before you had to rush out the door. Giving you enough time to find out how to stop the delicious ache in between your thighs from going away. The echo of the outside world drifted up through your somehow open window and you raised your eyes, gazing at the spot where he had been only a few hours ago.

Only to catch sight of a glass of water placed on your nightstand—a ripped piece of paper beneath it. You practically lunged for it, hands carefully sliding the paper out and eyes tracing the messy scribble of what you assumed to be his writing. The message was short. Direct. It could barely even be considered sweet, but you saw the tenderness through the short sentence—the care in his action of leaving you with something to remember him by.

I had a lot of fun.

So we can do things the right way next time.

— Miguel

Beneath the message a phone number was scrawled, as if he’d been hesitant to even put it there in the first place. But it seemed that you weren’t the only one to feel that strange connection. That lingering sensation of familiarity whenever you thought about him. There was something to uncover between you. Perhaps the something more that you were aching for last night.

You had no clue.

Yet that didn’t stop you from grabbing your phone and inputting the numbers carefully. Glancing back at each one to make sure that the message wouldn’t disappear before your very eyes. You typed his name at the top, smiling at the contact before sticking a web right beside it. The memory of what he’d traced along your skin coming back to you.

A thrill of joy went through your body, lips pulling up into a wide smile as you pressed the button to send a text. While it may have been too soon—perhaps a bit fast if you were looking at it properly—the warmth in your chest won the battle in the end.

How could something that felt this right be messed up with speed?

How could it go wrong?

#miguel o'hara x f!reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara #my writing

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hahaifolded · 1 month

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Folded's Page Guide

Hello hello, y'all can refer to me as Folded if needed (I refuse to share any part of my name because if anyone I actually know ever finds out about this page, I will explode). I'm currently trying to start the next chapter of my life and using Tumblr as a way to unwind and relax.

- 23 - Chicana 🇲🇽 - She/Her/Ella - Aquarius ♒️- Sé español pero de verdad no me animo escribir en el pero a ver un día - This is an 18+ space 🔞, Minors/Ageless Blogs will be ✨blocked✨ - I don't do tag lists just cause ✨I'm lazy✨ - My inbox is open so feel free to ask/suggest/rant in it. It is not set up for anons just because if you want to say anything, say it with your chest - I am going to write about anything and everything that I'm interested in when I can/want to - Honestly always been a lurker in fandoms but I'm trying to be more social so don't be afraid to say hey!

One Piece - The Siren, The Cook, and the Sister - Sanji x PirateHunter!Fem Reader (Ongoing, 16/18) Jujutsu Kaisen - Can We Make This Work - Nanami Kento x POC!Fem Reader x Gojo Satoru (Ongoing, 7/??) Call of Duty - Pay Back - John Price x POC!Fem Reader (One-shot, 4.7k words) - Close Friends - Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x POC!Fem Reader (One-shot, 4k words) - Al Pastor and Allies 141 x Mexican!Fem Reader (HHM Celebration, 1.6k words) - If I Can't, No One Can - 141 x POC!GN Intelligence Operative (Multiple drabbles, In Progress)

Dividers by @cafeitskune

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lovelymagnoliarose · 2 months

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So I know that AO3 is being super slow rn, but if people have the patience, check out the new chapter of Penny For Your Thoughts!

This time, we have our regularly scheduled angst because I'm me and obviously it has to have a little angst.

Sneak Peek “You and that Featherington girl are pretty close, aren’t you?” “Penelope Featherington?” “I’m just saying, you’ve been stuck at her side all night, you guys dating or something, Bridgerton?” “Me and Penelope? Oh no, absolutely not, I would never date her.” He hadn’t known Penelope was there listening to him. As if that made it any better. He’d been laughing, why did he laugh? It wasn’t as if the idea was even that funny, it was just- it was Pen! He’d known her forever! But he’d been drinking and everyone was laughing and everything had just come out so unbelievably wrong- and Penelope had been there to witness the whole thing. They’d made eye contact for a second before she shook her head at him and rushed back into the party, tears in her eyes. The image was burned into his brain. And now, he watched her as she stayed in her designated corner, Eloise approached her and he could see how she was trying to listen to whatever topic El was giving an impassioned rant on now. Even from the opposite side of the room, he could see the tension in Pen’s face, he knew the signs of her being overwhelmed. And he hated being one of the reasons that she felt like that in the first place. Normally, when he saw her looking like that, he would go over and find some way to go over, talk to her, and help her feel more at ease. But nothing felt normal right now.

#polin #polin fanfiction #bridgerton #luke newton #nicola coughlan #polin fic #colin x penelope #penelope x colin #colin bridgerton #penelope featherington

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silentwhsprs · 1 year

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━━━━━ marthas diner 3 , miles morales

miles and his family are dining in at your workplace, he embarrassed you infront of your entire class, remembering that miles has been missing out on a lot of spanish, so you're using that to your advantage.

this part may seemed rush for the lack of transitions, but im debating to start a enemies to lovers with miles but it would be a fast burn but not like a really fast burn, they’re hatred for eachother would be gone after a few chapters :((. just lmk if u would want me to write that!

“Miles?”

You felt multiple waves of emotion wash past you, you felt the world change colors. You debated whether you were happy, sad, shocked, surprised?

“Surprise?..” He chuckled nervously, his phone ringing abruptly is what killed the moment again. Before he could pull it out, you grabbed it and answered it.

“Hello!?” You shouted angrily at the culprit. “¿Con quién está hablando, señorita? ¡Mientras contesta el teléfono de mi hijo, te encontraré!” (Who are you talking to, miss? As long as you answer my son's phone, I will find you!) A voice shouted angrily back. You immediately knew it was Mrs. Morales. You handed the phone over to Miles scratching you neck.

Miles glanced at you before being scolded by his mother, he came up with a thousand excuses before she finally believed one. Where he said Gwen had answered it and with a reply of “(Y/N) is better, hijo.”

Little did she know, Gwen was far from picking up that phone.

“Now allow me to feel things Miles,” you started. “Look, I know what you’re feeling. I don’t even know how I’m feeling most of the time-“ Miles comforted.

“No you don’t. You are Spiderman. I’m just a basic civilian girl with no cool abilites to save Brooklyn, I never ever have the same opportunities as you. Plus, you have a police captain father running through your blood.” You ranted, Miles’s mask still laid on the floor. The fabric picking up debris that was chipping off the roof of the wall.

You walked toward your bed and sat down, he followed. He sat next to you and grabbed your hand. “You’re not basic. You never were.”

“Yeah-“ You began again, you were cut off by Miles bringing you in for another kiss. This one was different, as if he tried to calm you down. You put your hand on his cheek.

The creaking of the door didn’t stop the moment, the figure stopped in place and took surroundings of your room.

“Santo inferno! Nostra figlia esce con un uomo ragno!” (Holy Hell, Our daughter is dating a Spiderman!) A deep voice shouted, you two immediately pulled apart as Miles grabbed his mask and put in on!

You stood up to cover Miles, “No, papà. Questo non è quello che sembra! Non è l'uomo ragno. E non ci frequentiamo! Hai sbagliato tutto.” ( No, dad. This is not what it seems! It's not Spider-Man. And we don't date! You got it all wrong.)

“Créeme mamá!” (Believe me, Mom) You cried out, dying to protect Miles identity. Miles quickly stood by your side, except he had his mask on and deepens his voice. “I’m not Spiderman, Mr. (L/N). I’m just a cosplayer for ComicCon!” He tried.

“Vita mia, guarda questo pagliaccio che cerca di fingere di non essere Spider Guy!” (My life, look at this clown trying to pretend he's not Spider Guy!) Your father chuckled.

You grunted and rolled your eyes, this is not how you wanted your father to meet Miles. Your mother was leaning against the table addressing the Mail that was delivered today. She knew her daughter like the back of her hand.

She knew that her daughter had liked Miles, so she definitely knew that Miles was Spiderman. He needn’t to worry. His secret was perfectly save in The (L/N) Familia.

Miles stood froze doing the jazz hands positon, finally your mother spoke up. “Miles, quítate la máscara. todos sabemos que eres tú ahí abajo. Te prometo que no diremos tu identidad, pero mantente a salvo salvando a Brooklyn.” ( Miles, take off your mask. We all know it's you down there. I promise we won't reveal your identity, but stay safe by saving Brooklyn. ) She smiled, ripping open the paper that was addressed by Visions Academy.

“Mamma Mia.”(Oh Mamma!) You whispered. Miles slid off his mask and sat next to you. He put his hand over your shoulder. How could somebody else’s parents know about his identity but not even his own. Life was fucked up.

“You speak Italian?” He asked. You looked up at those honey eyes. “Yep, My dad was born in Italy then moved to America. My mom was born here except she was born and raised in a predominantly Puerto Rican area which is why my family and I know Spanish. I do have some Spanish descent though.” You explained. (idc if ur black, white, yellow, green, this is for the story.)

“Well, that’s funny. But what are we gonna call this?” He asked again, making circular finger motions around you two. “I want to get to know you better, then we can call it official if everything works out. Which I’m sure it will. And, as long as Gwendolyn Stacy stays out the picture completely. Because I’m not afraid to regañar a una chica blanca por meterse con mi hombre, especialmente cuando es mío.” (scold a white girl for messing with my man, especially when he's mine.) You smirked.

Your mom walked by the door frame and snapped a picture, “¡Le envío esto a Río para que me pague!” ( Im sending this to Rio so she can pay me! )

You and Miles looked at each other in shock, “Y’all betted on us?!” You both shouted in sync.

“Sabes que la hicimos.” (You know we did.) Your mom and Rio shouted in sync back giggling.

that’s it y’all! martha’s diner is wrapped up! remember to reread my top note about the enemies to lovers! lmk what y’all will and wont read! bye loves.

#miles morales x reader #miles morales #rio morales #jeff davis #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman

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aloneinthehellfire · 1 year

Text

Chapter Five: The Cabin

Gates Of Hell Masterlist

Word Count: 4982

Warnings: swearing, mentions of death, feeling abandoned, the usual bickering, mentions of absent fathers, some of this is almost sweet I'm surprised I could even write it

[A/N: this chapter isn't particularly exciting but definitely important. i know we're all here for the steve x reader moments so how could i disappoint?]

The Cabin

Plan A: Find Hopper at the cabin.

“I told you, we’re going the wrong way!”

“No, it’s literally this way! I’m not blind!”

“Are we sure?!”

You and Steve had been wondering around the woods ever since day leaked through the night. Not that it was easy to tell anymore; the dark clouds were consuming the sky almost entirely now, reminding you both that Hawkins was under attack.

And the entire time you had been in the woods, you and Steve couldn’t resist an argument. First it was because neither of you could ever be the follower, always attempting to take charge. The next it was a small comment on the state of his hair that led to his defensive spiel about care and treatment, remarking on your lack of. And soooooo many other little things that spiralled off into their own arguments until finally resting on Steve’s poor directional skills.

Steve simply pouted, shaking his head with a curse on his tongue. Of all the unbearable things about an apocalypse, you were the worst.

“How am I even meant to tell where we are by a few stupid trees? Trees are trees!” Steve rants, shaking his head as he followed his own footsteps.

As you bit your tongue, you glanced to the side before your feet faltered completely.

“Help me!”

A scream echoes out and you stumble, foot catching on a root as you fly forward into the dirt. The flashlight bounces from your hand, shining the light directly onto you. You immediately scramble towards it, reaching out.

Before a grey claw beat you to it, pulling the light back into the darkness with a sickening crunch...

“You good?” Steve asks, turning back once he notices the fallen crunches of footsteps. Once he sees your stare, his face drops. “Hey?”

Steve moves towards you and you snap back into focus, clearing your throat.

“Yeah. As I was saying, you’re leading us back to the school. We wanna go left.” You continue, as if nothing happened, pointing out the direction with a roll of your eyes.

Before he follows you, he cranes his neck to find what had you so entranced. His breath hitches.

Between the ash-gathered leaves, a ray of light beaming on it like an omen, stood a tree bearing three giant claw marks into its trunk.

He shudders at the sight, glancing back just one more time into the thick expanse of the woods surrounding him before taking off after you, praying it wasn’t foreshadowing his future.

It was only three more minutes until you’re jumping on the spot, a grin on your face.

“See? I told you!” You announce, pointing to the building in the distance.

“You want a medal?” Steve rolls his eyes and you smirk.

“I was thinking of you grovelling at my feet and pledging your undying allegiance.” You shrug, “But I’ll settle for a medal.”

Gritting his teeth as you laughed, he adjusted bat looped through his backpack and followed you towards the cabin. But, when your back was turned, he couldn’t help the hint of a smile creep onto his lips at your giggle.

As you were getting closer, you held your hand out to stop him. You make a gesture for him to look down.

“Trip wire.” You say, stepping over with him mimicking your movements.

Hopper had set up a security system around the cabin when you first moved there. It was when he first announced that El would be staying with you, not telling you any specifics other than ‘we need to keep her safe’. Just another part of his life he kept you far away from. You were struggling to decide if that was the right choice.

Leading Steve through Hopper’s intricate system of defences, the trees finally fell onto a path. It was funny to you now, knowing that just 24 hours ago you hated the idea of coming back here; now it was the only thing giving you hope. It was home, it was safety, it was-

Your stomach plummets to the ground as you freeze. Steve couldn’t believe his eyes.

The cabin was torn apart; windows smashed, boards missing from the walls. Something had gotten in there. Something big.

In a sudden movement, you start sprinting towards the house.

“Wait!” Steve yelled after you, pulling his bat into his grip and running after you.

You burst through the door, the first jolt of reality. Hopper never kept it unlocked.

“Hopper?” You shout, chest falling and rising heavily. “Hopper?!”

The living room was a mess, tables and chairs thrown about. The sofa looked like it was ripped to shreds, stuffing coating the floors like a crime scene. Books, vinyls, the things you grew up with, scattered around like tombstones of your memories.

The floor crunched beneath your feet, glass and ceramics breaking beneath the weight.

“Dad?” You desperately try, feeling the heat of the tears rolling down your cheeks.

You could sense Steve behind you, taking in the scene. You could practically hear the stream of pity ready to spur from his mouth.

“I-”

You walk away before he can speak, rushing to the bedrooms. You first open El’s room, expecting the little girl to be hiding somewhere. But the room was bare, and just as trashed as the living room. When you couldn’t bear to look at it anymore, you close the door behind you, biting your lip.

El was a surprise to your life. One day you’re sat at the trailer, the next you’re being dragged to the cabin, introduced to a girl you had never seen before. At first, you had been hesitant. And so had she, barely speaking five words. And you’d never admit it, but she grew on you. All of her little smiles, her wide innocent eyes staring up at you whenever she was unsure. Even the way she would giggle at your jokes. The thought of her being here when the cabin was… it was like losing your little sister all over again; her fighting for her life while you stood on the outside, unaware.

“Anything?” Steve’s quiet voice asks, stood at the end of the small hallway. You slowly shake your head, back still against the door.

You silently walk to the next door and this time, he follows you. It was that part of him that couldn’t leave someone alone in their internal crisis, knowing that he can’t live alone with his.

The door creaks open and your breath hitches.

Years of collections and comfort were fallen soldiers, your kingdom come undone. The roof had caved in, chippings and splinters lay across your bed like a blanket. Your shoes scuffed an object on the ground and it felt like kicking your own heart. You reach down and pick up the frame.

Glass slides away from it, angled to avoid cutting your fingers. The photo was now a crumpled mess, but you reach inside anyway and tentatively pull it out, dropping the frame back into the pile of despair.

Steve peers down at the image in your hands, your delicate need to brush out the rumples in the print. He could just make out Hopper, a clean-shaven version of him at least. He was crouched on the ground with two little girls. One looked a lot like you, the same mischievous smirk as you hug a smaller child in front of you. Steve didn’t recognise her. She bore blonde pigtails, younger than you were, with striking blue eyes.

Once you catch him looking, you clear your throat and fold the photo, depositing it in your jean pocket.

“No one’s here.” You say meekly, walking across your bedroom with little effort to avoid walking on your memories.

Steve watches as you fetch something from the mess, cradling it in your hands. He recognised the Walkman almost immediately; it was a dark red, courtesy of you painting it in shop class when you were meant to be making a birdhouse. He remembered how you’d slip the headphones on whenever he tried to talk, a small gesture that made him roll his eyes. Weirdly, the thought of you doing that never upset him until this very moment.

“Well.” You suddenly sigh, turning around with headphones dangling between your fingers. “That plan has officially humbled us.”

“They’re okay.” Steve nods and you sent him a sad look of disbelief. “They have to be. Just… look around. There’s no sign of them being…”

“Dead.” You finish, taking a deep breath. “No, you’re right. They definitely got out.”

“I’m sorry this happened, though.” He says, looking around your room. “This is some pretty cool stuff.”

“Surprised you’re not judging my ABBA poster.” You raise a brow and he whistles lowly.

“Oh, I absolutely am.” He chuckles, “But only ‘cause I thought you were a metal fan or something like that.”

“Because of my usually chipper mood?” You ask, but the laughter was lost on your joke as everything began hitting you once again.

Hopper and El weren’t here. That hope you had of getting the hell out of Hawkins with your family was gone. Because they were probably halfway across Indiana now.

Yesterday morning, you had been stood in this very spot, yelling at Hopper. And now you could look back on it, you knew it had been irrational. You had caused an argument of epic proportions and then you had walked away from it, never resolving, never forgiving.

No wonder they left, you thought, you only ever make other people miserable.

“Where would they go?” Steve questions, expectant eyes finding yours. You start to walk out the room and Steve steps aside before following you.

“Away.” You respond simply, finding your bag on the ground and shoving the Walkman inside.

“What does that mean?” He frowns.

“It means they’re heading anywhere that isn’t here.” You explain as you secure the zipper, swinging the bag by the strap to loop your arm through. “Hopper isn’t sticking around when he has a 13 year old to take care of.”

“Why would he take off without you?”

You pause your movements. It was an innocent question, an expected one. Then why was it so painful?

“Sometimes fathers leave.” You answer under your breath, and when Steve opens his mouth to inevitably question your mutter, you clear your throat. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It kinda does.” Steve shakes his head, wondering why you seemed so calm, so normal about this.

Hopper was adamant to him, to Nancy, even Jonathan, that they were to keep you as far away from this mess as possible. Steve remembered how uncomfortable Hopper had looked when they were at the cabin trying to help Will, constantly checking the time and disappearing into a different room to answer a call. Hopper protected you. Steve couldn’t believe for one second that he’d leave you behind.

“You don’t get it.” You scoff, heading to the cupboards. Steve figured you were rooting for food, a smart plan if it weren’t for your dismissal of his worries.

“Then tell me.” Steve places his hands on his hip, but you bark out a laugh.

“Yeah, that’s gonna happen.” You reply, your back to him as you prop yourself up on your toes to reach the back of the cupboard.

“You’re impossible.” He groans.

“You’re annoying.”

You say just as you turn around, holding a box in your hands. Steve looks down before widening his eyes. Shotgun shells.

“Uh…” He wasn’t sure what to say. After all, he wasn’t expecting ammo to be placed among breakfast cereals.

“Speechless? Good.” You rattle the box and head further into the cabin, towards a blank wall.

Once there, you run your fingertips along an etched square, nails gripping onto the rough surface and tugging. The panel fell towards you, clattering to the ground as you threw it to the side. Steve’s jaw couldn’t be dropped lower.

You reach in and pull out a shotgun, turning to Steve.

“Here.”

You throw the box towards him and he’s grateful for his reflexes, encasing them in his hands.

“Okay, it looks like it’s already loaded.” You mumble to yourself, wiping off the dust that collected on the barrel. When you glance up, you notice Steve’s still staring. You cock your head. “I’m the Chief’s daughter, you think I don’t know where he hides his weapons?”

“Uh…” Steve tries again, before he shakes his head free of the distraction. “Wait, no. We can’t go back out there.”

“Why not?” You ask, securing the shotgun onto your body by tightening the strap at the front.

“Because we need to figure out where they are.”

“For the love of God, Steve, read the room.” You exasperate, flinging your arm out towards the mess. “They’re gone. They left me behind and they’re getting the hell out of this place before they’re ripped apart.”

“They can’t have just left you behind!” Steve’s blatant denial was obviously fuelled by something else. You had an idea of what that could be.

“Can we just drop it?” You beg, heading to the door before being blocked by Steve’s surprisingly built frame.

“Please.” He looks down at you, chest rising heavily. You stop, observing the gold flecks in his eyes that lay upon a scared expression. “Let’s just take a second, and try to figure this out.”

There wasn’t a part of you that wanted to barge past him, not when he was looking at you like you might be his last hope. You sigh, stepping back.

“Fine.” You hold out your hands in small surrender, “I yield.”

“Thank you.” Steve breathes, slumping his shoulders. “I’m sorry, I just… obviously I don’t know Hopper as well as you do. But… do you really think he’d just leave?”

“No.” You reply quietly. Hopper was never one to run from a fight, not really. And from what Steve had told you, he was protecting this town like an unsung hero.

You sit down on the couch, or what was left of it, perching on the comfortable seat that used to be the headrest. Steve joins you after a silent moment, avoiding the tear in the fabric, creating a distance unusual to you both, merely a few inches between.

“Wanna talk about it?” Steve asks and you turn your head to him in disbelief.

“What?”

“You know… about whatever the hell is making you so angry all the time.” He explains and you bite your cheek, turning away.

“Like I’m gonna confide in you.” You mutter and he slowly nods, pursing his lips. He didn’t expect anything less.

“We could make it fair.” Steve voices with determination, shifting to face you.

You raise a brow, intrigued by the offer. “I’m listening.”

“How about… question for a question?” He suggests and you scoff.

“Sure, wanna braid eachother’s hair later, get our nails done?”

He lets out a small huff, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Look, we’re gonna be stuck together whether we like it or not so keeping secrets isn’t gonna work.”

“God, you’re so nosy.”

“At least I’m not the one spacing out every five seconds when there are things out there trying to kill us!”

As much as you hated to admit it, he raised a valid point.

“We need to survive, Y/n.” Steve said sternly. “We both have people that need us.”

His voice gets quieter as he looks down at his hands, at the bag laying at his feet. He could practically feel the frequencies releasing from the radio hidden there, praying, hoping, that Dustin’s voice would find him again.

“Henderson?” You ask knowingly, and his eyes widen in surprise. “Please, that kid tells me everything.”

“You… what?”

“I used to babysit for the Wheelers.” You explain with a sigh, leaning back. “Dustin, Lucas, and Will were just added bonuses.”

“I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic or not.” He raises a brow and you smile.

“No, I love those kids. They were pretty much the only people in this town that actually talked to me. They didn’t care who my dad was.”

“Believe me, they don’t care for any kind of authority.” Steve chuckled, cocking his head. “I never knew you babysat them. Henderson never told me that.”

“You probably never asked.” You shrug, “But I get it. I wanna know they’re okay, too.”

“Then can we please just… try to get along?” Steve offers, leaning forward.

Steve watches as your face twists with indecision, battling out voices in your mind that answered for you. He was almost taken aback at the effort of consideration you put into his proposal. And, with an aching heart, he had a feeling you had a very good reason for it. He just couldn’t remember what he did.

“Fine.” You finally agree, fiddling with the laces on the hoodie. His hoodie.

“Great.” He claps, sitting upright. “Okay, you go first.”

You blink at him as he looks at you expectantly. “I’ve completely forgotten this entire conversation.”

“Ask me a question.” He says softly, unusual to his routine remarks on your inability to listen.

“Okay…” You purse your lips, stretching them to the side as you thought. How do you even talk to him after years of trying to rip eachother’s throats out? “Uh… favourite colour?”

You wince and he starts laughing, the melody enticing you along with it.

“That was awful.” He remarks, looking away from you as he tries to compose himself.

“I’m trying, okay?” You giggle.

“Just…” He calms himself, shaking his head. “Something you want to know. Or, at least something more personal than what colour I like to wear.”

“Jeez, I didn’t realise there were so many rules to this.” You say, but your words are spoken in a joking manner. “Fine, I’ll try again.”

“Good.” He nods.

This time, you try and think back, rooting through your brain for the questions that have been plaguing you for years.

“Why did you choose Tommy?”

Steve wasn’t sure what he expected, but it took him by surprise. He frowns.

“To be friends with, I mean.” You explain quickly, staring down at your shoes.

“We…” He starts before frowning a little. “I don’t know.”

“There’s the scoop I’ve been looking for.” You smirk and he laughs nervously, lifting his head to meet your eyes.

“I just mean… I don’t remember. I don’t remember a lot, lately. Hit my head too many times, I think.”

You searched for the satire, but you knew he was truthful. “Wait, seriously?”

Steve absent-mindedly nods his head. “Yep. Doctors told me something about concussions and how too many can have serious effects or something like that.”

“I… I didn’t realise.” You frown, biting your lip.

“Yeah, I gotta work on the whole ‘avoiding fights’ thing.” He attempts a laugh, but it came out much sadder than intended.

“So… you don’t remember freshman year?”

“Bits and pieces. It’s not, like, totally gone. It’s all a bit blurry, I guess. I can remember the first game I played in, even right down to the final scores. But I couldn’t even tell you who I was playing with. Or if I even scored.”

“Three.” You say immediately, surprising yourself.

“Huh?”

“Um… three.” You shrug, fidgeting. “You scored three times. Or got a hoop? I’ll be honest, I have no idea how basketball works but you got the ball in the hoop three times.”

“How do you-”

“It was a school game, I had to watch it.” You explain defensively, shaking off the thought with the bat of your hand.

Steve bit the inside of his cheek, but not to resist a snarky remark. He was hoping the slight blush creeping up his neck wasn’t noticeable.

“Anyway,” He shakes his head, looking in a direction where he could focus. “If I knew how Tommy and I became friends, I’d tell you. Not like I haven’t been questioning that for a while now.”

“Why does he suddenly hate you?” You query and he opens his mouth to answer before closing it, sending you a smirk. “What?”

“I believe it’s my turn to ask a question.”

“Oh, God.” You groan, placing your head in your hands, hidden away from his victorious stare. “I don’t like where this is going.”

Steve looks at you trying to play it off, acting like you didn’t care. But he’d never seen you look more nervous. And that made him nervous. “You don’t have to answer.”

“Well, yeah. Technically you never answered my question.” You point out, laughing when he looks at you with annoyance. “Okay, okay. Fine. Ask away, Harrington.”

“I…” He begins, before he’s second guessing himself. Maybe he’s going about this all wrong. He’s playing a childish game just to get some information out of you, while you’re trying to hold on to those personal aspects of your life you don’t want to share. Did you even owe him that? “Never mind. Forget it.”

You send him a dubious look, “Seriously?”

“Yeah, it was stupid anyway.” He dismisses, stretching his arms. “Cool. We should start moving.”

“Harrington.” Your stern voice brought him back down as he tries to stand, biting his lip. “Don’t chicken out on me now.”

Steve sighs, running a hand down his face and you’re surprised at how quickly his demeanour had changed. He suddenly looked shy.

He tried to relocate his thoughts, change his course towards a question that felt easier, more normal considering the stance of your relationship. So, rather than ask that burning question, he redirected his determination to find out a little more of what you and he could share in common.

“Okay.” Steve nods, turning towards you. You’re sat patiently, awaiting his words. It was a new look, but he’d have to recoil at it later. “Henderson.”

“What about him?” You frown. This wasn’t where you were expecting this conversation to lead.

“I just… I wanna know how that friendship started.” He shrugs and you breathe out a laugh, eyes wide.

“I literally just told you five seconds ago, I babysat him.”

“Yeah, I know that.” He rolls his eyes, “I meant… why are you still so close now? What do- what do you guys even talk about?”

Steve hoped he wasn’t too obvious but the moment that iconic mischievous smirk lifted the corner of your lips, he regretted everything.

“Why?” You raise a brow, leaning closer. “You scared he’s spilled all your secrets?”

“Has he?” Steve asked, a little panicked.

“No.” You smile, leaning back. “No, we just… talk. He’s always at the arcade and I usually kill some time over there. When the Wheelers needed me, the kids were usually burrowed in that basement on whatever campaign they had created that week. Dustin was kind of the first one to even notice I was there. He’d always offer to help me in the kitchen with stuff, even if the others were in the middle of a war or something.”

“Sounds like a crush.” Steve comments and you chuckle.

“Whatever it was… he’s a good kid.” You nod, looking at him. “I was there when… when his dad left.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” You bite your lip, furrowing your brows. “We kinda bonded over that, a little. He was having trouble processing it all, not sure what happened. I think Will was the only other one he could relate to, but Will was apparently too young to really remember anything. Dustin needed a shoulder, I guess. And since I have somewhat of an experience with his situation, I was there for him.”

“Can’t believe he never mentioned that.” He huffs, shaking his head. That asshole usually told him everything, especially stuff he didn’t want to know about. And you being a close friend suddenly didn't make the list?

“Please.” You laugh, and he looks at you. “Dustin knows we aren’t friends. Hell, I think he’s probably seen us fighting hundreds of times. I know the whole town has.”

“Still.” Steve sighs, leaning back. “Wouldn’t kill him to share.”

“He talks about you a lot.” You admit and Steve’s eyes flicker to yours in an instant.

“Really?” He sounds a little sceptic and you nod, unsure of why you felt like you had to tell him this. Part of you just felt like he needed to know.

“Nothing bad.” You insist, brushing away a stray hair that had fallen across your eye. “In fact, he talked about you like you were the second coming of Christ.”

“Really?” Steve was smiling now, ego surely fed.

“I think it took a piece of my soul away each day.” You decide, but Steve was still grinning at you. “Stop that. It’s creepy.”

“Can’t help that I’m an idol. A hero.” He looks off into the distance with his self-entitlement. “A god.”

“Fucking hell, forget I said anything.” You groan, grimacing at him.

“Nope.” Steve was going to milk this for as long as he could. He couldn’t resist the opportunity to annoy you. He stretches his legs, pushing off the couch into a stand. “You do realise you’re in the presence of someone important?”

“If by important, you mean idiotic? Then yes.” You remark, resting your chin in your palm. “You really are living in King Steve land. Sponsored by Farah Fawcett.”

“Well, it’s only-” Steve pauses his boasting, slowly turning to look at you. You’re wearing a sick grin on your face and he refuses to acknowledge it. “Okay. I’ll shut up.”

“Like music to my ears.” You sigh gratefully as he hesitantly sits back down, still glaring at you. “Oh, come on. Don’t blame Dustin, it just slipped out. He really does look up to you, even if I’ll never understand why.”

“Jesus, that kid…” He begins before his voice trails out, brows knitted together.

“I’m sorry he wasn’t here.” You say quietly. You had figured out the real reason Steve followed you here as soon as his face dropped walking into the chaos within the cabin. It was the same face you had worn knowing Hopper and El were nowhere in sight.

“Yeah, well… wishful thinking.” He dismisses, waving his hand. “He’s probably out there with the rest of the nerds, you know. Irritating someone else as he tries to explain every living thing he sees. Did you know he tried to keep one of those dog things as a pet?”

“What?” You laugh out of surprise and Steve quickly nods in exasperation.

“Yeah. Yeah, he named it and everything. Convinced he had some psychic connection with it or whatever. Oh, and his obsession with his walkies, man. If I don’t say ‘over’, he’ll give me a lecture on using the thing right for like ten minutes.”

“That does sound like him.” You smile. Steve was talking about the boy like he was the most annoying thing in the world, but there was such adoration in his eyes.

“I remember when we had to go down into those tunnels.” Steve continues, spiralling down Dustin lane. “I told him no but he just wouldn’t listen. Then when it was all over, he came with me to the hospital to get my head checked out and I don’t even remember what I said but suddenly he’s ranting on and on about gates and their electromagnetic field-”

“Wait.” You grab his arm and he raises a brow, surprised at the sudden contact. “The gate. You said- yeah, you said that Hopper and El had closed the gate, right?”

“Apparently not.” Steve comments, fiddling with the nailed bat between his legs.

“Exactly.” You point, standing up.

“I’m not following.” He frowns, watching as you pace back and forth.

“Of course you aren’t.”

“Rude.”

“If this is all happening because of a gate, then maybe Hopper would take El to close it. For good, this time.” You explain in a rush, Steve nodding along. “Where did you say it was, again?”

“The lab.” Steve replies, standing up to join you, “The abandoned one on Randolph? Turns out, not so abandoned. Hasn’t been for years.”

“They’ve gotta be there.” You insist, mostly to convince yourself. “Right?”

“Worth a shot.” Steve breathes out, nodding. “But it’s not gonna be fun getting there. If we’re right and that gate is spitting out monsters, it’s gonna be hell central.”

You thought it through. You’d both be ripped apart before you even got close. And there wasn’t a guarantee you’ll even get there fast enough.

“A car.” You blurt, looking up at him. “We’re gonna need a car.”

Steve’s eyes widen and he reaches into his back pocket, displaying a bunch of keys as they dangled from his fingers. “Thank god I always have these on me.”

You tilt your head, staring at them. “Wow. Are they gonna transform into your magical car, ‘cause I sure as hell don’t remember the lift over.”

“I know where it is.” Steve shook his head, pulling a face at your mockery.

“Where?”

His face freezes, eyes squinting. “Well...”

“Well?” You wave your hand about, becoming impatient.

“It’s in the parking lot. Back at the school.” He winces and you take a deep breath.

“Why didn’t you-” You begin before cutting yourself off, shaking your hands, “No. no, It’s fine. We’ll just go get it. As long as we’re quick and quiet, it’ll be fi-”

You’re unconvincing attempt to appear calm was interrupted by the sound of a loud roar, prickling your skin into a wave of goosebumps. It was a shock to the system that reminded you of the exact danger Steve was talking about, and you didn’t want to stick around to find out.

“Time to go.” You squeak, grabbing the shotgun as you and Steve share intimidated looks.

“This is gonna be fun.” Steve murmurs, following you out of the cabin and into the open, trying to ignore the signalling traps echoing around him.

Plan A: Find Hopper at the cabin.

Plan B: Grab the car without being mauled to death.

Chapter Six: Don't Trust The Voices ->

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