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yuyusuyu · 2 years ago

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the princess treatment chronicles!

pairing. non idol! best friend! song mingi x non idol! fem! reader

synopsis. the five times you accidentally completed the steps that would make mingi swoon also known as the five times you accidentally gave him princess treatment and he kept falling harder for you each time

warnings. mentions of food, getting sick, fire (someone get mingi away from the grill), cursing (wooyoung naur)

genres. romance, fluff, comedy, best friends to something more

ft. non idol! ateez

wc. 3k

pt 2. here !

a/n. happy birthday to our lovely mingi :( (this was supposed to be posted in two days wtaf 😭 guys pls just ignore and pretend it was posted on his bday 😭 my queue os my biggest enemy now)

reblogs and comments are appreciated! helps with not getting shadowbanned!

MINGI has a list. it's a special list to him, one that speaks volumes about him.

speaks volumes about a step-by-step process on how to make him, song mingi, fall in love with someone.

now, this list is hidden in his notes app, and the physical copy of this is hidden in one of his math notebooks from high school. he is the only person to know about this list, other than his best friend, of course (only because yunho accidentally saw him writing it out instead of doing math homework with him).

yunho calls it 'a step-by-step guide to the princess treatment' but mingi likes to correct his friend, telling him that it's actually called 'the way to song mingi's heart.'

yunho likes to call it otherwise.

but what does that have to do with you? well, for starters, mingi met you through yunho. it was completely accidental. according to yunho, he was never going to introduce you because you're like a little sister to him and you might end up stealing mingi from him by being your lovable self. instead of that happening, you two had instantly clicked and the three of you became a little trio, one that somehow always managed to spend time with each other everyday.

crazy.

how mingi and yunho managed to keep the list a secret from you, they have no idea (and yunho has no idea why mingi doesn’t want you knowing. the three of you tell each other everything to the point that it can be seen as oversharing at times), how they’ve managed to keep this list hidden from you for so long—three years, to be exact.

until now, that is.

STEP ONE TO MAKE SONG MINGI FALL IN LOVE WITH YOU: RUN INTO A PUBLIC PLACE IN A DRAMATIC MANNER WITH SOMETHING OF IMPORTANCE TO MINGI ! (IT SHOWS THAT YOU CARE VERY MUCH ABOUT HIM TO THE POINT OF NOT CARING ABOUT HOW OTHER PEOPLE SEE YOU)

mingi frowns as he looks down at his phone, eyebrows furrowed when he looks up at yunho. “she’s ten minutes late.”

yunho nods, also frowning. “maybe something came up and that’s why she’s running late?”

slumping down in his seat, mingi sighs, grumbling, “yeah, but she would’ve texted us by now if something happened. you know how yn is…”

the bells of the café entrance chimes, signaling the appearance of a customer. mingi, at this point, has given up checking if every new customer that walks into the café is you. he folds his arms on the table, resting his head as he pouts.

“oh yn!”

and then he immediately perks up in his seat, excitedly turning around to face you. yunho gets up, giving you a hug before ushering you into the seat next to mingi’s.

“i’m so sorry,” you wheeze, “i was going to text the group chat but then my phone died.”

yunho tilts his head. “your phone died? you don’t usually use your phone while you have a shift at the restaurant.”

“i don’t,” you say, running a hand through your tousled hair. “but i forgot to charge my phone before i left my place, and then when i went to that doughnut place, the lines were ridiculously long but i was already in line so i decided to suck it up and—"

“woah,” laughs mingi. “slow down.”

“sorry,” you mumble, sighing and taking in a breath before continuing. “i went to the doughnut place that just opened up. i read on a forum that wednesday afternoons are usually the slowest, so i decided i’d stop by before coming over to the cafe to study with you guys. when i got there, there was already a line that was about to start wrapping around the store, so i had to beat this lady next to me that wanted to get in line.”

“a lady,” yunho repeats, chuckling.

you hum. “yeah. i beat her to it, by the way. anyway, i was checking the time and saw it was already nearing the time we decided on, so i was in the middle of sending a text when my phone died.” you take out your phone from your tote bag along with a box.

it’s then that cogs in mingi’s brain starts working when he eyes the cursive lettering on the box.

“oh, isn’t that the doughnut place mingi’s been wanting to try out?” yunho asks, hands stretching out to grab the box.

you slap his hands, earning a laugh from the taller male as he brings them back to his side. “yes,” you reply, side-eyeing yunho. “meaning this isn’t for you.”

grabbing the box, you sheepishly smile at mingi, handing it over to him. “i know you’ve been trying to find the time to go over and try their doughnuts, but since my workplace is closer… i mean, why not?”

“excuse us for a second,” mingi mumbles, leaving you confused as he grabs yunho’s arm and drags him over to a corner in the cafe. once you’re out of earshot, mingi clears his throat. “what the hell was that?”

“what was what?” whispers yunho, blinking as he watches mingi glance over at you. you’re in the middle of trying to tame down your wild hair.

“she just completed step one.”

yunho gasps, turning mingi around by his shoulders. “no way,” he says. “did you tell her about the list?”

“what? no!” he cries out. “how did she even do it? yunho, i swear if you told her—”

“that’s not my secret to tell!” yunho whisper-shouts. “listen, this was probably a one time thing. there’s no way she even knows about it. plus, maybe she was just feeling a little generous today towards you!”

mingi slowly nods. “yeah,” he mumbles. “yeah, you’re right. let’s head back before yn starts asking questions…”

yunho was not right.

STEP TWO: IN MINGI’S TIME OF NEED, DO WHATEVER YOU CAN IN ORDER TO MAKE HIM FEEL HAPPY (THIS IS TO SHOW THAT YOU WOULD DO ANYTHING FOR HIM NO MATTER WHAT TIME IT IS OR WHAT YOU’RE DOING)

mingi grumbles as he kicks his shoes off and drops his things on the floor by the door, closing it and shuffling over to his room as he angrily sends a text to the group chat.

it’s already one in the morning. yunho is most likely gaming and you’re most likely already sleeping. regardless, mingi still sends a text and doesn’t bother waiting for an answer as he flops down into his bed face-first.

he barely manages to make out the sound of his phone ringing. he blindly searches for his phone until his hand finally finds it. grunting, he brings it to his face, his eyes squinting at the screen from the brightness in comparison to his dark room.

yn: you still have your spare key in the same place, right?

mingi: i thought you had my spare after last time?

he sees that you’re in the middle of typing, so he waits until you finally send another message.

yn: oh

yn: yeah, you’re right. just found it on my keychain

mingi: i’m always right

yn: mmmmmm i wouldn’t say that but sure…

mingi: bruh

again, the typing bubble pops up on his screen before it disappears. mingi’s a bit confused, he won’t lie. he thought you would already be sleeping, but you weren’t. he snorts. “she asked me about my spare key instead of what’s wrong…?”

he shakes his head, stuffing it into his pillow. “whatever,” he mumbles.

mingi swears he’d only closed his eyes for a brief moment when the sound of his door unlocking fills the air. he stiffens in his bed before scrambling off, fumbling to find something to protect himself. he unplugs the lamp by his nightstand and grips it tightly, quietly tiptoeing towards his door.

“mingi?”

“yn, what the hell?” mingi groans, stepping out of his room and walking into the living room area of his apartment.

you narrow your eyes in confusion, pointing at the lamp he’s still holding. “why do you have a lamp in your hand?”

“the real question here is why are you here?” he huffs, leaning down to put the lamp on the floor. mingi then crosses his arms over his chest, “and why aren’t you sleeping?”

“i was about to sleep,” you say, walking past mingi and into his room. he follows you, his mouth open in surprise. “but then you texted that you had a shit day, so here i am.” you drop the bag you’re holding onto his bed, turning around. “now why the hell did you have a lamp in your hand?”

mingi clears his throat. “i, uh, thought someone was breaking in…”

you snort, sitting on his bed and patting the space next to the bag. “that’s funny, mings. no one is going to break in if you’re a broke college student.”

huffing, he grumbles as he sits down on his bed, bringing his knees up to his chest. “shut up.”

“mhm,” you hum. “now tell me about why you had a shit day while we eat some of your favorites, yeah?” you stick your hand into the bag and take out one of his favorite snacks, opening the bag and handing it over to him while you shift around to face him.

he thinks his heart started beating a little too fast for his liking.

STEP THREE: WHEN MINGI IS STRUGGLING TO DO SOMETHING, JUST DO IT FOR HIM WITHOUT EVEN ASKING IF HE NEEDS ASSITANCE (THIS IS TO SHOW THAT YOU NOTICE WHEN HE IS STRUGGLING)

you look between yunho and mingi. yunho’s trying so hard not to laugh, but his smile gives him away. he obviously finds mingi struggling to light the grill amusing.

“c’mon,” you slap yunho’s arm, earning a whine from him. “don’t be a bully.”

“yeah, yunho,” mingi says, looking up for a brief second to glare at him before looking back at the box of matches in his hand. “don’t be a bully.”

you gently take the box away from mingi’s hands, taking out a match and striking it against the box, a flame appearing. you grab the lighter fluid and pour some on the charcoal before chucking the match into the grill, a fire immediately coming to life.

mingi gasps and hides behind you, startled. yunho laughs at the sight. “no way you’re hiding behind yn right now,” he says, wiping tears away from his eyes. “she’s literally so short compared to you.”

“shut up, jeong yunho.” you point at him. “or else i’ll change my netflix password.”

yunho gasps. “you wouldn’t dare!”

as you and yunho quarrel, mingi sighs, hiding his face in his hands when he feels the back of his neck grow unbearably hot.

you are doing a number on him.

and he’s a little scared.

because you’re his best friend.

and he can’t believe that his best friend, of all people, would be completing his five-step-guide in making him fall for someone.

he has to talk to yunho soon about this.

STEP FOUR: WHEN MINGI IS HURT, HELP AND CODDLE HIM (THIS IS TO SHOW THAT YOU CARE A LOT ABOUT HIM)

he never got the chance to talk to yunho about this.

after your impromptu bbq day at yunho’s place, mingi ended up getting sick. he didn’t tell anyone, not wanting to bother anyone and burden them with taking care of him. so here he is, laying in his bed, shivering and clutching onto his blankets for dear life.

he hears his front door clicking open, and he groans. “go away!” he croaks, sneezing afterwards. “i have nothing to offer you, you thief!”

you laugh. “seriously? you think i’m some robber again?”

at the sound of your voice, mingi’s heart skips a beat. he clears his throat. “no… what are you doing here? i seriously need to take my spare key away from you…”

“yeah, yeah,” you say, walking into his room and raising an eyebrow when you see the state he’s in. “why didn’t you tell yunho or i about this, mings? we would’ve come running to you.”

he sneezes. “i didn’t want to annoy anyone,” he says, lowering his blankets from his face just to see you.

you click your tongue and walk to the side of the bed, pressing your hand to the back of his forehead. “don’t be silly, mingi. you know we don’t find you annoying… at least i don’t find you annoying,” you mumble, straightening your back and walking out of the room. “i’m going to make you some soup, you weakling! don’t get up!”

mingi lets out a weak laugh, sneezing afterwards. “yes, ma’am…”

“what was that?”

“yes, ma’am!” he yells, his voice cracking. mingi hears you giggle to yourself.

he huffs, pulling his blankets over his head.

when you’re done making the soup, you carry a bowl and some cough medicine into his room and find that he’s asleep. you set the bowl on his nightstand, shaking him awake as gently as possible. “mingi,” you whisper. “mingi, i have the soup. i need you to wake up so that i can feed you.”

“feed me?” he asks, whispering.

you hum, opting to card your hand through his hair that’s been growing out recently. “yeah, i need to feed you.”

“feed… feed me?” mingi screeches, abruptly sitting up. you gasp, almost falling off the bed.

clearing your throat, you reach out to grab the bowl, placing it in your lap and grabbing a spoonful, blowing on it slightly before leaning away. “here…”

mingi stares at you, wide-eyed.

you purse your lips. “mingi, i need you to eat so that you can get better.”

“right!” he says, his voice an octave higher than usual as he moves to eat the soup. when he leans back, mingi sees you smiling at him.

his stomach does some summersaults.

STEP FIVE: TAKE CARE OF MINGI (THIS SHOWS THAT HE IS VERY IMPORTANT TO YOU)

mingi puffs his cheeks out, trying not to laugh as he takes out his keys.

“yunho, i need you to carry the cake… actually, never mind, jongho can you please carry the cake?”

yunho gasps. “yn, do you not believe in me and my capabilities to carry a cake?”

“...no, i don’t.”

“what the—”

hongjoong claps once. “stop fighting!” he says. “mingi’s going to be here any minute now—”

“actually,” pipes up seonghwa. “it says that he just arrived.”

“what the fuck!” wooyoung screams. “guys, hurry the fuck up! he’s coming!”

“wooyoung… stop screaming… you’re giving us away,” yeosang says.

“yeah, what my boyfriend said.” san says.

“san, dude, how many times do i have to tell you that i am not your boyfriend.”

mingi takes in a deep breath before shoving his keys into the lock, the noise going on on the other side immediately stopping. he can hear you all shuffling around until someone whisper-shouts at jongho to go shut the door.

“what the—but i’m carrying the cake?” jongho sounds baffled.

“give me the cake and go stop mingi from coming in! yunho hasn’t finished hanging the stupid banner!” you cry out.

mingi assumes jongho’s laying his weight on top of the door because he can’t push it open.

“did you just call me stupid, yn?”

“no, but i will if you don’t hurry up!”

“guys,” hongjoong sighs, and mingi can bet that he’s rubbing his temples. “i think mingi can hear you.”

he sure can.

“okay, jongho come back!”

mingi snorts, pushing the door open and flicking the lights on. yunho’s awkwardly holding the end of a birthday banner up while the other end is taped onto the wall. hongjoong and seonghwa both sigh in unison at how badly the surprise is coming along, and wooyoung and san are trying to push each other out of the way so that one of them can stand next to yeosang, who is rolling his eyes and trying to shuffle away from the two. jongho stands to your side, the only one who is actually smiling at him—oh, he’s lying.

you’re smiling at him while holding a birthday cake.

“suprise, mings!” you say.

everyone yells happy birthday to him, and somehow he finds himself getting shoved by wooyoung towards the small table he has by the kitchen. you’re standing next to him, laughing as you put the paper party hat on his head, making sure that the thin string is secured underneath his chin before moving to get the knife.

“let mingi cut the cake!” wooyoung yells.

“he could get himself cut, and the birthday boy shouldn’t have to do it unless he wants to,” you chide, glancing up at mingi through your eyelashes. “do you want to cut it, mings?”

he swallows the lump in his throat, shaking his head afterwards. “no,” he breathes out, licking his lips. “you can do it for me, if that’s okay.”

you grin at him, carefully cutting up the cake. you place the slices on plates, making sure that the biggest slice goes to mingi.

oh no, he thinks.

you’ve officially completed his five-step-guide to his heart.

“um, yn?” mingi leans down to whisper into your ear.

you hum in response.

“can we talk for a sec?”

nodding, you let yourself get dragged by mingi into his room. after closing the door, he looks at you and you notice that his ears are very red.

“are you okay?” you ask, pointing at your ears. “your ears are red.”

mingi whines, covering his face with his hand. “can you turn around real quick?”

“okay…”

mingi peeks through his fingers, sighing in relief when your back is facing him. he clears his throat and wipes the palms of his hands on his jeans. “i, uh… would you like to go out for dinner sometime this week?”

“as a date?” you ask, fighting the urge to turn around to look at him.

in a small voice, mingi replies. “yeah… as a date.”

“i’d like that.”

#꒰💌꒱ drea's drabbles !#yuyusuyu #mingi x you #mingi x y/n #mingi x reader #song mingi x reader #song mingi x y/n #song mingi x you #mingi fluff #mingi imagines #mingi scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez fic #ateez fanfic #mingi fanfic

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linlinmoon · 6 months ago

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"Look Of Love."

a/n : hi! just to note this isn't my best work as it is something i've done to crawl out of the deep pit of writer's block i'm currently suffering with so i suppose it is better than nothing 🙂‍↕️ i do appreciate if u suggest prompts in my ask box so i get the motivation to write and to write better 😻 enjoy!

🍰 : (they/them), fluff! riddle roseharts x reader.

The housewarden of Heartslabyul trudged his way back to his own dorm after dealing with miscellaneous events that wasn't even part of his agenda. His feet were practically dragging itself across the checkered tiles, his body so heavy he just wanted to do nothing but lay on his bed the whole entire evening after.

It was one of the things left unsaid when being a housewarden, that you'd also have to be the one to pick up after the people who are more careless with following the rules and laws of the dorm.

He couldn't let those things slide of course, yet fortunately he was a bit more considerate than before. After the overblot incident, he had become more lenient with certain rules, although it didn't mean that he'd let things slide way too often.

And finally after a day of housewarden duties homework, and a lot of spellcasting on rulebreakers. He had arrived at the front of his dorm. Thank the Seven.

He opens the door to see them currently studying on the desk, the only other person that would make him feel like not everything has to be perfect all the time. The person that reminded him it was okay that his files didn't have to always be in proper order or the colors of his pens weren't in sequence according to their shades. Through them, it's also how he learned to be more expressive with how he feels and is in the process of learning how to do so in a proper manner, to avoid any pent up negativity that would possibly bottle up inside of him.

Perhaps he was even more than lenient with them when it came to the laws of the dorm, though he'd say that it had just slipped his mind.

Definitely wasn't favoritism. ( Of course it was, he just wouldn't say it out loud )

“Ah, good evening. You're back later than usual.” they smiled, the corners of their lips tugging at their cheeks. They had taken his hands in theirs, slowly intertwining their fingers with each other's.

“Mm. Got held back a little.” he spoke, visibly exhausted.

“Want to talk about it?”

“Please. It would truly help to let it out.”

They get up from their seat and had sat themself down at the bed and had laid on their back, pulling the housewarden down with their movement. After a few moments of comfortable silence, they shift to lay on their stomach to fix their eyes on the redhead who was to talk about the day they've had.

Riddle had rested his eyes before looking back up at their partner, giving them a knowing look to subconsciously ask them if it was alright to rant and let out whatever he could about what had happened through out his day.

“Go on, I'm listening.” they assure, nodding a little as a signal for him to begin

“My day was usual, but it was a rather hectic with the sudden things that would come up out of nowhere, completely unannounced. As always, there would be atleast a number of students who are careless to forget certain rules. The assigned students had forgotten to wear pink when taking care of the flamingos today, they should know that by now. It's just once every week, how hard it is to remember..”

He continues on and on for awhile shifting their positions as their limbs entangle with one another. His head had rested on their chest as they ran their fingers through his hair. Eyes half lidded as they continued to listen, now just noticing this is the most he's ranted in awhile.

They weren't complaining though, they "were" listening or they supposed to be but they couldn't help but stare while he just spoke. The way his lips would move when he pronounced certain words differently, the way how his brows would furrow when he talked about some event that irritated him or the way his eyes would shift from them then towards the ceiling as he recalled about thing that happened. Overall entranced by how... pretty, he looked when he spoke.

Riddle had noticed that they seemed to be just hum and nod in agreement at a certain pace, as if they were on autopilot or something. Noticing the way they looked at him, the way they only blinked or glanced elsewhere only if it was necessary.

“Are you listening?”

“Mhm.. huh?”

“I think you've just been staring the entire time.”

“No no no.. I was listening I promise. The doormouse had jam spread on it's nose, the herbal tea is better than any other and-”

“That's not.. Oh, you're impossible.” he stifles a laugh, playfully hitting their chest. They had moved closer to his embrace and laughed along with him.

The sweet melodic sound of their voice rung in his ear, tinting his ears pink. He could listen to them laugh over and over again like a broke vinyl.

He had moved his hand onto theirs before making its way to their cheeks, holding their face in place to admire the way their features complimented one another. Riddle would be completely lying if he said he didn't like the way they would look at him, how could he? They looked at him as if he was the only one he could see, the only one in this world. Their gaze so full of love that it was overflowing, all the love that the world could hold in those eyes. And they were his, all his. They were his world, and he was theirs.

“Sorry I can't help but stare. But I swear I listened.. to the first half I suppose.”

“Not to worry. I'd be happy to tell you all about it over and over again.”

“You would?”

“Mhm.. For you, I'd do it over and over again.”

#riddle rosehearts x yuu #riddle rosehearts x reader #riddle rosehearts #twst fic #twst wonderland #disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #twst riddle #twst #lin writes !#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland fic

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saffusthings · 5 months ago

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chapter 3: welcome to new york

ceo!oscar piastri x reader

summary: the one where she becomes his favorite investment.

word count: 1.2k (sorry it's short i just wanted to get something out)

two | three | four

Y/N had done her homework.

McLaren's legal team was woven into the company’s decision-making in a way that most firms didn’t bother with. They weren’t just paper-pushers—they were fixers, strategists. That meant they needed more than someone who could recite legal frameworks. They needed someone who knew when not to use them.

Time to find out if she was that person.

The conference room was all glass and clean lines, built to impress without feeling ostentatious. Three people sat across from her: the head of legal, a senior compliance officer, and, unexpectedly, Oscar Piastri.

His presence was a variable she hadn’t accounted for. He wasn’t legal. He wasn’t even directly involved in compliance. He wasn’t supposed to be here.

But he was here, which meant he had a reason.

The head of legal, a petite woman named Susie, didn’t waste time. “Miss Y/N, your qualifications are strong. But we’re looking for more than someone who can process contracts. We need someone who understands how to think in this environment, someone who can be meticulous and strategic.”

It wasn’t a question. It was an invitation.

Y/N didn’t sit forward. Didn’t rush to fill the silence. She let the space breathe for half a second before responding.

Think.

“That makes sense,” she said. “The legal team in this firm doesn’t follow a traditional structure. You don’t come in after decisions are made—you’re in the room when they are made. Preventative, not punitive. That means the job isn’t just about knowing the law. It’s about knowing how people work.”

Something flickered in Oscar’s expression—just for a second.

The compliance officer folded his hands together. “Let’s test that. Say one of our major partners starts signaling that they’re reconsidering a deal. What’s your first move?”

A classic misstep would be jumping straight into legal countermeasures—contracts, penalties, leverage. But that wasn’t the real question.

Y/N exhaled lightly. “That depends on why they’re hesitating,” she finally responds. “If I don’t know that, I don’t know my leverage. Are they looking for better terms? Are they under pressure from stakeholders? Are they trying to bait a response? If we don’t get that right, the best legal argument in the world won’t matter.”

A small, satisfied nod from the head of legal. The compliance officer’s mouth twitched slightly, the closest thing to approval she’d seen from him so far.

But it was Oscar who finally spoke, his voice mild. “So your instinct isn’t to push back,” he said. “It’s to listen first.”

Y/N glanced at him. “Pushback without information isn’t strategy,” she said simply. “It’s noise.”

Something shifted in the room. Nothing obvious, just a slight recalibration.

The rest of the interview followed the same rhythm. They didn’t ask her to list off laws or recite policy. They threw her into scenarios and watched how she worked through them. When to be aggressive. When to hold back. When to let someone else show their hand first.

By the time she left the room, she didn’t need to be told she had the job.

The official offer came two days later. A starting position in McLaren Ltd.’s legal department, with competitive pay and flexible terms. She read the contract twice, her legal brain picking through every clause, before finally accepting.

Logan was over the moon when she told him. "I told you, Y/N! They’d be stupid not to take you."

She rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t help the small smile. "Don’t act so smug."

"I will act smug," he shot back. "And I better get a free coffee out of this because I definitely made this happen."

Y/N adjusted the cuff of her blazer as she stepped into the McLaren Ltd. offices for her first real day on the job. The weight of the security badge clipped to her lapel felt strange—too official, too stuffy, too real—but she squared her shoulders and ignored the feeling.

The morning started with HR paperwork, a brief introduction to company policies, and a tour of the legal department. Her workspace was a sleek desk nestled within a glass-walled floor, surrounded by associates who looked both competent and busy, which was a relief. She could handle high expectations. It was incompetence that frustrated her.

At exactly 10:00 AM, she found herself seated at a long, polished conference table for her first department-wide meeting. The room was filled with lawyers, compliance officers, and legal consultants, all dressed in crisp suits and holding expensive pens like they were weapons. They chatted in low murmurs, trading case updates and office gossip as they waited.

Then, as if someone had flipped a switch, the energy shifted.

Oscar Piastri entered the room.

He didn’t demand attention, not in the way executives usually did. He didn’t speak loudly, clear his throat obnoxiously or make some overt show of dominance. The Australian walked in with the assured presence of someone who knew he didn’t need to prove himself. The room took notice of him without him having to ask for it.

Y/N, despite herself, took notice too.

“Morning,” Oscar said, voice even, scanning the room as he took his seat at the head of the table. “Let’s get started.”

The meeting was efficient. Discussions revolved around ongoing contracts, regulatory concerns, and a few high-profile negotiations that were still in flux. Y/N listened, absorbing the dynamics of the team—who spoke with authority, who hesitated before making a point, who seemed eager to impress.

About halfway through, a compliance officer brought up an issue regarding a breach-of-contract dispute with a European partner. The conversation volleyed back and forth between the senior associates, each offering half-formed solutions but never quite landing on anything concrete.

Y/N leaned forward slightly, running her finger along the spine of her notebook.

She wasn’t supposed to speak.

Not yet.

But the gap in their argument was glaring, and waiting for someone else to point it out felt like a waste of time.

She hates awkward silences. No wonder they’re used as an interrogation method, she thought to herself. I’m this close to singing the national anthem if that’s what it takes to break the silence.

Finally, she had had enough. “The dispute clause in the original contract—does it specify arbitration or litigation?”

The room quieted just enough for heads to turn in her direction. A few of the senior associates blinked, as if only now remembering she was there.

Was she supposed to raise her hand or something?

The compliance officer - a young man named Alex, she’d learned - frowned. “Litigation, I believe.”

Y/N shook her head. “If that’s the case, then the jurisdiction issue isn’t as complicated as you’re making it out to be. If the contract was signed under UK law, their enforcement options are already limited unless they’re willing to pursue this through a European court, which isn’t in their best interest given the legal fees and delays.”

A brief silence.

Susie - the head of legal she’d met during her interview - exhaled sharply, a nod of reluctant approval in her expression. “She’s right. If we lean into that, we have more leverage in negotiations.”

A few murmurs of agreement followed, but Y/N didn’t let herself relax just yet.

Instead, she flicked her gaze toward Oscar.

He was watching her, unreadable as ever, his fingers lightly tapping against the table. He hadn’t said much throughout the meeting, but now, he tilted his head ever so slightly.

“Good catch,” he finally said.

He moved on without another word.

But the weight of that single acknowledgment lingered in the air longer than anything else.

a/n: feedback feeds this monster! pls drop comments if you want the next chapter faster (or if you don't)! bonus point if you understands the reference in the summary ;)

#formula 1 fic #formula 1 #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri x you #oscar my beloved #oscar piastri #ceo!oscar piastri x reader #ceo!oscar piastri #ceo!oscar #saffu's works #op81 x reader #op81 #series: lyrical love

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buckysgrace · 5 months ago

Text

Mittens

A Christmas party leaves Steve hopeful as he finally admits his feelings.

CW: mentions of past pseudocest, mentions of alcohol, weed use, blowjobs, fem!oral sex, fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, dirty talk, some spitting and cum swapping, implied former pseudocest

Another gift for my sweet @sadhours who has been denied the gift of these two for so long. I hope you enjoy <3

Art at the bottom by @Scott1505236401 on twitter!! Her commissions are open!!

Kim

Kim stood in the corner, nursing a cup of sparkling cider as she examined the room in front of her. They had pushed the racks of movies towards the back of the room, leaving space to bring out the fold out tables. The air was sickeningly sweet, likely from all the desserts that had been brought out.

She hadn’t been working at Family Video for very long, but it gave her more money than her previous job had. She felt bad for Susan, her mother. She knew she needed to help out in some way, so that’s what she did. She worked most nights, bringing her homework in on the slow nights so she wouldn’t fall behind in her classes.

The decorations had been thrown together last minute, strung up haphazardly about twenty minutes ago because Keith had failed to mention that he wanted the store to actually be decorated. It was messier than what she was used to, the simple decorations mirroring the ones that were currently strung up in her trailer. But she had at least made it look nicer.

It wasn’t quite elbow to elbow, but there were more people than usual within the store. Partners were allowed to be brought, which signaled her out. She didn’t have anyone to bring along. She had attempted Max, figuring that her sister would make it less lonely, but she had refused in the end.

“Pretty boring.” A soft voice appeared behind her, making her startle at the sudden intrusion.

“Oh,” she jumped, nearly toppling her drink over in the process. Steve reached out at the same time she did, balancing her cup so that only a little bit of the liquid toppled out onto their fingers, “Oh God. I’m so sorry.”

“No, that was my bad,” he said with a little laugh, shaking his head as he quickly grabbed them a few napkins, “I didn’t mean to scare you.” He replied quickly, beginning to dab her fingertips clean. She blinked, trying to remember where he had disappeared to.

He had long removed his vest, the same way she had. His sweater was green, filled with various Christmas designs. She thought it looked cute, meanwhile hers was a bulbous white one. It had been her father’s years ago and was much too big for her, making her look like a giant marshmallow. But it was the only thing that she had.

“You didn’t,” she gulped, realizing how snappy she sounded, “I mean, maybe you did a little bit.” She replied in a joking manner, breathing in deeply to make herself relax. She wasn’t sure why she was so nervous suddenly. She’d spent a lot of time with him recently, he was a good friend. In some way.

“Sorry,” he apologized, giving her a little grin, “I’ll announce myself better next time.” He added as she set her drink down, moving the napkin across the rim, so the cup wouldn’t be sticky.

“It’s fine,” She shook her head, “I was just distracted.” She admitted a second later, feeling like that was the best way to describe how she had been for the past few months. Everything felt rushed, but also slow at the same time. Like she’d been stuck in some sort of weird rut.

“She looks happy, doesn’t she?” Steve asked her as he turned his attention back to Robin, his arms crossed in some proud way at the way she spoke to Vickie. She hadn’t came with Robin for obvious reasons, but they lingered by each other now. They were laughing about something, Kim wondered what.

“How long ago did they get together?” she asked softly, keeping her voice low just to be safe. She didn’t want to be the reason that Robin got exposed. But they were a cute couple, she just wouldn’t say that out loud.

“Why, are you jealous?” he teased as he watched her, his eyes flickering with warmth. Her lips parted, wondering if he still thought that she had some sort of crush on Robin.

“No,” she squeaked out quickly, her face burning once again, “They just look really cute together is all.” She nodded her head in determination as she continued to watch them, feeling like there was a knife going through her heart. It had nothing to do with Robin, rather how she deeply missed having someone to laugh with in that manner. She missed him.

“A few months ago,” he replied a second later, his eyes warm against her face, “I’m glad I’m not the only single one here.” He added softly, his eyes still lingering on her face. She didn’t have the strength to look at him, embarrassed at how her relationship had fallen apart.

“Me too,” she told him softly, “It feels nice not to stick out.” She told him truthfully as they fell into silence once again. She still hadn’t really mastered how to speak to Steve, knowing that she overthought every little interaction. Even when they worked together they were mostly quiet. Silent but comfortable.

“How are things with you and -,” he began to bring him, his features turning to confusion as she faced him for the first time.

“Nothing,” she said quickly, cheeks burning and eyes widening in fear that he would mutter his name. She didn’t need her heart to break all over again, “There’s nothing between us. We’re over.” She told him, the words clawing at her mouth like knives. It didn’t feel right to say that out loud, even if it was true. Well, at least for Billy.

It made sense that when Neil left, Billy left too. Even if he didn’t leave with his father, what else did Billy have left in this town? It wasn’t even worth staying another year for her. No, she had gotten left behind too.

She found out two weeks after he left that he had hooked a ride with Tommy; made his way back to California. Where he belonged. He sounded happy, at least at first. She remembered when they’d spend hours talking over the phone, how she would write so many letters that it made her hand cramp and fingers stiff.

Now she was too afraid to even dial the phone, knowing that she had become a burden again. He was out living his life; one of freedom. Like he deserved, and she couldn’t be angry at that. The last time they spoke she could hear the guilt in his voice, how his tone strained. And she couldn’t be the one to force him.

But she still wrote to him, even though she didn’t send them. The letters were hidden in her dresser drawer, slowly becoming reminders that she wasn’t good enough. She was sure they would be too heavy for him to read anyway, too tear soaked to make out the words. It served as just a little reminder for herself.

“Oh,” he blinked slowly, like he didn’t understand, “That’s too bad.” She could tell by his tone that he was being honest, even if him and Billy hadn’t grown to be very close. She wished she could explain it more, but she was unable to. She knew she’d only end up crying if she opened up the scar on her heart.

“I heard that you and Gina broke up,” she stated suddenly, crossing her arms over her chest in fear that he could see the gaping wound that was her heart. It felt easier to put him on the spot, even if it felt a little mean right now.

“Mutual agreement,” he said quickly as he took a long gulp from his cup, “I think she loves someone else.” His reply was soft, yet bitter at the same time. She felt bad for him, knowing that this was the second big heartbreak that he had gone through.

“That sucks,” she nodded her head as she allowed herself to meet his big brown eyes, his features warm against the soft flickering of the Christmas lights. There was something soft in the way he composed himself, how he looked at her. It was different from a few months ago.

“I guess I’m used to it,” he gave his shoulders a little shrug, a small smile on his lips as he teased himself. She nodded her head in agreement, wishing she had some sort of advice to give him. But she had none. She still hadn’t finished nursing her heartbreak.

“I didn’t realize there would be so many couples here.” She told him instead, surprised that so many of her coworkers had someone else. She wished that she wasn’t so bitter and jealous. She wanted to have someone.

“I knew there would be as soon as Keith started talking about the girl he was seeing.” He snorted as he leaned against the counter, cocking his eyebrows like he was surprised. Keith’s girlfriend seemed nice, at least from the brief interaction they’d had with one another.

“They make a really good couple.” She nodded her head as she pressed her lips together in a smile, hoping that would at least keep Keith off of her back. He wasn’t a creep, but he had attempted to ask her out more than what she was comfortable with.

“Odd.” He snorted softly, taking her by surprise. Okay, maybe they did look a little odd but there was nothing wrong with that. Odd was better than nothing.

“Odd can be good,” she giggled softly as she watched him, “At least he’s happy.” She hummed as she stole another cookie off of the tray, feeling like she hadn’t gone overboard on eating her feelings tonight.

“Good for at least one of us.” He mumbled as he shook his head, reaching across her to grab a similar cookie from the tray. He munched on it roughly, looking as if he still had something to say.

“Come on,” Robin rushed over, the fake antlers on her head nearly toppling over, “We’re starting the gift exchange.” She grinned in excitement as she gestured back towards the table of presents. Kim watched her for a moment, observing how her shirt was similar to Steve’s. They must’ve gotten it together, or maybe it was an older version of his.

“I want to open mine first.” He stated proudly, making her heart drop a little bit. She didn’t want him to open his first, fearful that he wouldn’t like it. She didn’t want everyone to have to witness his displeasure.

“Now?” Her voice cracked as she asked the question, her feet dragging on the floor as she followed them towards the messy table. Her pulse had quickened against the crook of her neck as her nerves settled on top of her. She wasn’t happy with how this was going.

“Yes.” He stated sternly and proudly, his lips curling into a bright grind. He looked determined, making her emotions much more worried than she had been.

She had panicked the second since she read who she had gotten for the gift exchange. Steve. It was like fate was cruelly digging its nails into her once again, because how else would the poorest one end up having to buy something for the richest coworker. What was she supposed to get for someone who had everything?

From working late night shifts with him, she knew that he liked junk food. Popcorn with extra butter with some Raisinets thrown in there. In fact, his sweet tooth certainly challenged hers. More often than not, they’d end up sharing multiple bags of candy before the night was over. That was a start.

She forced herself to move, even though she felt like she had cement bricks stuck to her feet. She picked up the bag that she had delicately assembled, taking a deep breath as she walked towards him.

“This is mine then?” He questioned as she passed the bag to him, her heart hammering at the way his brown eyes softened as he took it from her. She breathed in deeply, trying to ignore the flush in her cheeks as she gave a quick nod of her head in confirmation, “Sweet.” He was still watching her as he held the bag close to his lap, lips curled into a gentle smile.

She sat back near Robin again, nervously twiddling her hair as he began to roughly pull the gift wrap out of the bag. He didn’t unwrap things neatly like Billy did, quite the opposite actually. He was excited, like he couldn’t wait to see what was inside.

“I hope you like it,” she added softly, feeling worried as he began to pull items out of the bag, “I wasn’t sure what to get you.” She told him seriously, wishing that he had written on the list of suggested items. He had only shrugged and told Robin that he needed nothing when she had asked.

“Candy,” he grinned as he pulled it out, “Going straight for my heart.” He was teasing, but that did nothing to stop her pulse from quickening against the side of her neck. She wasn’t trying to impress him. Well, maybe she had been a bit. She just didn’t want to be labeled as a bad gift giver either.

“It’s all grape flavored.” Robin stated as she leaned over, inspecting the various candy bags that he pulled free. She wrinkled her nose up, looking less than pleased by the choices.

“I love grape.” He stated as he wrinkled his eyebrows in confusion, pausing his movements as he looked at her seriously. Kim breathed in deeply at his confirmation, recalling how he always ate the grape flavored candies that they shared.

“You’re odd, Harrington.” She replied as she sat back in her spot, only to be hit with a piece of wadded up wrapping paper. She scoffed, shoving at Steve as he dug back into his bag.

“Some music,” he replied proudly as he waved the tape around, “A new wallet, some cologne, a mug-,” He paused as he looked up at her, eyebrows crinkling together, “Kim, there’s a bunch of items in here.” He replied as his eyes met hers, a puzzled look on his features. She shifted in her chair, feeling uncomfortable by the people that turned towards her. Now, she felt like she had overdone herself.

“I didn’t know what to get you,” she blushed harshly, feeling like she really hadn’t gone overboard, “There’s just one more thing at the bottom.” She said softly, watching as he began to tug the yarn out of the bottom of the bag. She wondered if she should have said anything at all, or if it would’ve been better for him to find it later on his own. Or to destroy it. It wasn’t any of her business.

It had taken her some time to figure out what colors he would like, but she finally landed on a soft red. She knew handmade items weren’t very popular, but she hoped he liked it the same.

“Wow,” he paused as he examined it, holding it out to make her wince. She hadn’t realized just how long she had made it, “I love it.” He told her genuinely, eyes cozy and syrupy as they made contact again.

“Really?” She asked him as she bit back her smile, feeling relieved suddenly. He had been a lot harder to shop for than what she had expected and she knew that had made gifts weren’t really wanted, but he had at least mentioned that he enjoyed practical things. A scarf was practical.

“Yeah,” he smiled as he looped it around his neck. She winced, noting that she had definitely made it too long, “This is definitely going to keep me warm. And I can’t wait to listen to the mixtape.” He nodded his head encouragingly, making her feel much better.

“I don’t know much about music,” she started as she crossed her legs, twisted her fingers through her hair, “So I hope you like it.” She said softer this time, trying to keep herself from bouncing her leg up and down. She could feel her face burning, her nerves shot as she waited for someone else to grab a present. She was not going next.

“My turn,” Robin clapped her hands as she stood up, grinning widely as Keith brought her rather heavy looking bag over, “Thank you.” She shared a quick look with Steve, something that everyone else seemed to miss. He rubbed the side of his temple, like he already knew it would be bad.

“What did you get?” Vickie questioned as she began to dig through her bag, paper and glitter flying through the air as she did so. Kim leaned forward, trying to get a better look at it.

“Fruitcake,” Robin responded, a tight smile forming on her lips, “Gee, thanks. I love fruitcake.” She nodded as she held up the loaf of fruitcake, lumpy and neatly browned. Steve covered his palm over his mouth, hiding away his grin.

“My mom made it,” he said proudly, nodding his head, “Oh, but there’s a gift card in there.” He said at last, at least making it up to her in some way. At least he tried, even though Robin’s list had been long and detailed.

“I also love shopping, so thank you,” she nodded as she put her items back in her bag, “Well, let’s keep going.” She pressed her lips tightly together, eyes crinkling as Steve nudged her foot with his. A little knowing gesture, reminding her that they would be discussing that later.

Kim watched as the rest of them opened their presents, deciding that she would just prefer to go last anyway. She wasn’t too keen on everyone watching her, but she supposed she’d have to suffer like the rest of them had.

She held her fingers tightly together, trying to keep herself from chewing her lipstick off as everyone else engaged in conversation around her. She wasn’t really sure how to talk to anyone else, despite spending so much time working with them. Like she was an outsider.

“Here,” she blinked up in surprise, not expecting for Steve to be the one that had her name, “I got this for you.” He clarified as he held it out towards her, his hair falling onto his forehead. It was slightly longer than it had been over the summer.

“Thanks,” she mumbled, examining the wrapped present in front of her. It was messy, with at least five bows shoved on top of it to likely cover up the pieces of the wrapping paper that had come undone, “I’m sure I’ll love it.”

She gently ripped the paper apart, revealing a box that had the top messily folded in on itself. She pulled that open next, beginning to dig through the items. There were four different copies of various romance novels, new ones that she hadn’t read. A pink pair of fuzzy socks, a lotion and perfume set, and then a smaller box inside.

She pressed it open softly, eyes widening as she revealed the pair of earrings. There were two gems, a small circle one that rested against her earlobes and then a long oval one that would dangle. They were green, emeralds she assumed. Along the edges of the emeralds were smaller golden stones, making her sure that he had definitely gone over their twenty dollar budget.

“Do you like it?” He asked her, his tone filled with just as many nerves as hers had been. She wasn’t sure how he thought she’d say no. Of course she loved it.

“Yeah,” she told him in surprise, blinking quickly, “It’s stunning. All of it. Thank you.” She told him quickly, feeling like her heart had only started to bleed harder. She wasn’t going to allow herself to feel the cracks, to break down. Not now. This was something good.

“Good,” he smiled at her, lines forming underneath his eyes from where he was grinning so hard, “The green reminded me of your eyes.” He told her, leaving her surprised. She had never had anyone mention that the green stuck out.

“We should do a round of white elephant.” Robin suggested as she clasped her hands together, taking Kim by surprise. She jumped as she quickly turned away from him, hoping that he didn’t feel that she was staring at him. She was just grateful.

“What’s that?” Steve asked as he drew his eyes away, his eyebrows furrowing together at the way she smirked at him. She held her gift back up dramatically, giving it a little shake.

“You get a chance to steal a present,” she nodded, smiling brightly, “And then that person gets to take someone else’s gift.” She gave her shoulders a little shrug, earning a little round of agreements through the room. Kim stared back down at the jewelry in her hands.

“Sure,” she glanced around, only because she didn’t want to be the only one to disagree, “That seems like fun.” She replied as she kept a tight grip on her present, unwilling to let it go. She didn’t think it would be right to give her present up, not when Steve had spent time thinking about what she would like. And how he had based a gift around her eyes. It was special.

“I can start then,” Robin declared as she held her hands together, her blue eyes falling to Steve’s gifts on his lap, “Hand it over, Harrington.” She replied proudly with a smirk, moving her hand up to tug on the bottom of her scarf.

“No.” He said quickly as he pulled away, his eyebrows furrowed tightly together as he picked up his bag and held onto it tightly. She felt herself sighing underneath her breath, feeling relieved that he didn’t want to let it go so easily.

“You have to.” Robin protested as she looked at him in disbelief, glancing around the room to wait for some kind of support. But no one else intervened. Kim liked Robin, but she didn’t want Steve to pass it along either.

“I’m not giving it up.” He said as he shook his head sternly, looking serious as he clutched the bag closer to himself. She felt her chest lurch as he glanced towards her, amusement brewing inside his eyes.

“That’s not how the game works.” She continued to protest, kicking her feet out this time as she whined. He shrugged his shoulders, looking like it wasn’t his problem.

“Well I don’t care,” he retorted, “It’s mine and I’m not giving it up.” He replied as he leaned towards her, giving her a grin. She scoffed as she placed her palm over his face and roughly pushed him away.

“You’re such a spoiled brat.” She huffed as she rolled her eyes, scanning the room as she tried to decide on who to attack next. Kim pulled her bag closer to herself, just to be safe. She tried to remain relaxed, however, just in case Robin was looking for someone that wanted to keep their gift.

“You’re just jealous that I got the best gift.” He replied proudly as he fussed with his now messy hair, then wiped at his face from where she had pushed him. Something inside of Kim bloomed from his words, excitement tickling the butterflies inside of her stomach. She hadn’t felt this giddy in a long time. It confused her. But she had long learned that the deeper she thought about her feelings, the more confused and upset she grew. It wasn’t worth meddling in.

Robin tried a few more times before she ended up unsuccessful, stuck with her lumpy loaf of fruitcake. She felt bad, but she didn’t want to exchange with her either. Her gift truly did feel special. She couldn’t wait to tell Max about it and Susan-, even though she knew she’d be teased about it.

No one tried to steal her gift, which she was happy with. She was sure that she wouldn’t be able to defend herself in the same way that Steve had. All the confidence she felt like she had gained over the summer had slowly seemed to slide away, disappearing just like he had.

She took one more swig from her cup, wishing that there was something stronger in it as she downed the rest of the liquid. She checked the clock on the wall, confirming that Susan would be home by now. She just hoped that she hadn’t forgotten about her again.

“Thanks for this again,” Steve approached her, making her jump once again. She laughed awkwardly as she rubbed at her chest, unsure of why she was so tense, “I really love it.” He told her as a soft smile spread across her lips, making her wonder why she had ever stopped liking him in the first place.

“Well,” Keith grinned at the two of them, holding his items in hand as he wiggled his way between into the small gap, “I hope you don’t mind locking up.” He added slowly, making her blanch.

“What do you mean?” Steve spoke up, looking just as irritable as she felt. She fought the urge to sigh and roll her eyes. She needed this job, but it was late. She wanted to get home and have a good cry. She thought she was allowed to do that.

“You were on shift so,” he nodded his head as he looked at them back and forth, “I sort of need you to clean up.” He added as a kind smile filled his lips. She closed her eyes, feeling like she should’ve known there would’ve been a reason nobody else wanted this shift.

“But this is everyone’s mess.” Steve gestured about, his expression dripping with frustration. She bit her lip as she shrugged her jacket off of her shoulders again, feeling like there was no point in arguing. She just hoped she’d be paid for it.

“But you’re off tomorrow, so that’s fun!” Keith added as he clapped his hands together, the sound muffled from the mittens on his gloves. She supposed he was right. Maybe it was only fair. Or maybe she was just too tired to argue with him.

“It’s fine,” Kim nodded her head, interjecting the two of them, “It won’t take long to finish up.” She tried to sound as encouraging as she could, even though she wanted to kick her feet in defeat. Closing always seemed so much worse when she was wanting to rush to get out.

The glitter and garlands had seemed to be a good idea at first, but now it was more of a pain to get it all tore down. They ended up discarding them into old paper bags, unsure if anyone was wanting to keep them or not. Steve had already torn down two of the windows before she had asked if it was supposed to be kept up until the year was officially over. Neither of them knew the answer, so they went with no.

Once the racks were back to normal and freshly organized after she had accidentally toppled once over, they decided it was good enough for them to leave. Everything looked like it was back to normal, for the most part.

“I need to call my mom,” she said as she glanced at the time, “She’s supposed to come and get me.” She replied as she peeked out the windows again, noting how it was vacant. Steve’s car was the only one that was sitting there nicely, covered with a fresh layer of snow.

“Sure,” he nodded his head, “I’ll wait.” He shrugged his shoulders as he leaned against the desk, his scarf wrapped loosely around his neck.

She winced as she typed in the number, taking in a deep breath as she reminded herself that the phone bill had been paid. That couldn’t be the excuse this time. She listened as it rang and rang, and rang a little more. No answer. She hung the phone up in defeat, unsure of what she was supposed to say.

“She’s not answering,” she pressed her lips together, trying not to think about what that meant, “It’s not a long walk from here.” She replied as she wrinkled her features up, thinking of how painful it would be. It was even colder than the last time she had done it. And it was much darker. She didn’t like walking in the dark around here.

“You’re joking.” He replied as he stared at her in disbelief, his brown eyes wide as he quickly shook his head. She paused, not wanting to argue about this.

“No,” she gulped, “I mean it’s fine.” She squeaked out as she glanced at how the snowflakes only seemed to get larger and fatter. She might freeze to death on the way home, but at least she tried.

“It’s snowing outside.” He pointed out as he gestured towards the parking lot that was covered in a thick layer of snow, making her lips part as she tried to think of a way to brush his statement off. Maybe she could sleep in the back office.

“I’ll be okay.” She said once again, forcing a smile onto her lips. She felt like things could be worse. She was sure Susan just lost track of time. Maybe if she called again, she’d answer. Or Max would.

“I can give you a ride home.” He told her in determination as he moved his hands to his hips, looking genuine. He spoke like he wasn’t going to give her another option.

“It’s out of your way.” She told him seriously. It was way out of his way, on the opposite side of town actually. She would feel bad. And in all honesty, she was a little embarrassed of her current address. She wasn’t sure what he would think about the trailer park when he came from somewhere so nice.

“Or you could come over,” he suggested slowly, his hands relaxing on his sides, “Just to like, hang or whatever.” He stated slowly, his expression relaxing as his gaze remained locked on hers. She shifted on her feet.

“Oh.” She said softly, her tongue feeling heavy in her mouth as her face burned. She blinked as she began to tug on her hair, trying to keep from concentrating on the way her heart was beating inside of her chest. Had he really just asked her to come over?

“I have alcohol and weed,” he continued on, suddenly looking a little nervous, “And my parents aren’t back yet. It gets a little lonely.” He told her at last, making her eyebrows raise at the way he revealed his answer. She glanced back outside as she thought about it, deciding it was better than walking in the snow. And having to deal with Susan and her drinking problem.

And she’d finally be able to really hang out with him. On her own. It was terrifying yet exciting at the same time. She had no idea what she was going to say, how she was going to act. But she might not ever get a chance to do it again.

“Okay,” she replied at last, “Sure, but I don’t want to intrude.” She added softly as she pressed her fingers together this time, feeling like she would only be bothering him.

“You’re not,” he reassured her quickly, “And there’s a spare room. I could take you back tomorrow.” He pressed his lips together as he shifted the scarf over his shoulders again, his expression relaxed and kind.

“I have nothing to wear.” She added again, not sure if she really wanted to sleep in her current outfit. She bit her bottom lip, watching as joy grew on his features. She felt her nerves spark to life again, wondering if she really deserved for him to look at her in that manner.

“I could loan you something.” He shrugged his shoulders as he continued to watch her, his body relaxed and calm. She nodded her head once again, feeling like she was just trying to find excuses at his point.

“Okay.” She told him as she gathered her things, fairly certain that he could tell just how shy she had become. She held onto her gifts tightly, waiting as he grabbed his keys.

“Are you ready then?” he asked as he tilted his head, watching as she slowly nodded her head in agreement. There was nothing else she needed here, “You wanna share my extra warm scarf?” He asked as a playful smile formed on her lips, making her blush all over again.

“You don’t have to wear it.” She told him seriously as they walked towards the door, still debating if she had gotten him the wrong thing. He stopped, turning to look back at her.

“Why wouldn’t I?” he asked seriously, “I love it.” He expressed deeply, a grateful expression on his features as he held the door open for her. She held her breath as she walked out into the blistering cold, her exposed skin burning as the wind swept into her.

She sat out with him, scarf linked around both of their necks as he worked on getting the jammed door to shut. To get the door to lock, he had to wiggle it back and forth, then twist the key in just the right way. It was frustrating.

“And we’re good,” he said after he rattled the door harshly, just to ensure that it was really locked, “It’ll take just a minute for the car to warm up.” He apologized as he quickly walked forward, nearly choking her out and knocking them both over in the process. He held his hands up quickly, an apologetic look on his features as he steadied her.

“It’s okay,” she said softly, smiling as she untangled herself from the scarf and fixed it over his neck instead, “Better than walking home in the cold.” She told him truthfully, feeling her bones rattling in her body from how cold it truly was. She really wouldn’t have made it back.

“Right,” he nodded as he drifted his eyes across his features, “You’re probably not used to the snow.” He held his hands in his pockets as his eyes trailed down to her lips, his expression soft as she raised her eyebrows slightly.

“I hate the cold.” She admitted, fighting back a grin at the way he started to move again. Like he realized that he had been staring. She followed him to his car, taking cautious steps to keep from slipping on the layer of ice underneath the snow.

He held the door open for her, letting her get in first before he ran behind the car and reached the driver’s seat. She looked around at his neat car, breathing in the smell of citrus that lingered about. It was nice, different but in a good way.

“Shit, it’s freezing,” he huffed as he started the car, quickly turning on the heat as the music roared to life. She blinked in surprise, not used to him listening to such loud and heavy music, “Sorry.” He mumbled as he quickly turned it down. She thought about asking him when his taste in music had changed, but she decided not to do it right now.

“It’s alright,” she paused as she moved her hand forward, unable to stop herself, “You smoke?” She asked in surprise, a familiar feeling racing through her as she inspected the Marlboro Reds. They were heavy, like they had been untouched.

“Uh,” he stalled for a moment, “Off and on.” He shrugged his shoulders like it was no big deal. She nodded as she set them down, trying to recall if she had ever caught him smoking. She supposed that most people did; it was no big deal. Just surprising.

“This brand?” She was unable to let it go for a moment, like it was some bitter reminder. She shook her head before she set them back down.

“Sometimes,” he mumbled as his eyes drifted back towards her, “They’re really strong, though.” He admitted a moment later, bringing a smile to her lips. They really were strong, too intense for her to ever handle.

“And stinky.” She said with a little giggle as she thought of how extreme the smell was. She often felt like she’d cough a lung up just by smelling it.

“Really stinky.” He agreed with a little laugh as he laid his head back against the seat. She settled in the same, watching the gentle way the snowflakes fell onto the front of the car. She thought it was odd that she could still see the stars, however, but they were hard to hide away.

They settled into silence as the car continued to warm, the heat finally beginning to blaze to life as she rubbed her fingers together. Steve was better at driving in this type of weather, used to it in a way that she would never be accustomed to.

“You know, there was a while back that I mentioned my friend liking you? So I couldn’t break the friend code?” He spoke up suddenly, taking her by surprise as she looked away from where the trees were turning white. She thought about it for a moment as she nodded her head, trying not to recall how desperate she had been back then.

“Uh,” she flushed as she thought about it, “Yeah, I remember.” She added as she moved her cold hands underneath her thighs, trying to keep them warm. She turned towards him as he remained silent. He had one hand on the wheel, the other placed near the top of his head as he stuck his tongue out in concentration.

“Well, that friend is dating someone.” He said slowly as he stuck his tongue back in his mouth, keeping his gaze pointed straight ahead. She felt her eyes slightly narrowing, trying to decide where he was going with this.

“I’m glad for them.” She said kindly, meaning it too. She knew who he was speaking about, but she wouldn’t put Robin on the spot like that.

“So there’s not any code anymore,” he continued on, his voice lowering, “So maybe you'd want to go out sometime?” His tone was almost in a whisper by the time he finished speaking, his expression hopeful as he faced her again. She stared, momentarily taken aback.

“On a date?” She questioned, searching for clarification as her mouth suddenly felt dry. Everything was warm, her face and her insides. This wasn’t the way she pictured him asking her out, but she would take it.

“We could go to dinner or a movie, or even hang out here. Or at work.” He suggested as he used his one hand to gesture, shrugging his shoulders like it was no big deal. Meanwhile, she was fighting the urge to keep from kicking her feet and squealing.

“We do work together. Like all the time.” She reminded him lightly, sure that he could hear the excitement in her tone. She cleared her throat, trying to remind herself to stay calm. To be cool.

“Yeah.” He replied with a smile on his lips, his eyebrows raising as he nodded his head at her answer. She pressed her lips together, moving into her next question.

“Is that a good idea?” She asked him seriously, sure that things never went well when you got with a coworker. At least that’s what Addi had said. But what did she really know?

“We could find out,” he replied with a grin, “Come on, I’m a total gentleman.” He promised as he moved his hand over his chest, a sincere look in his eyes. She pressed a little smile to her lips, thinking that he was sincere.

“Does this count as a date?” She asked him softly, feeling like it sort of counted. Then again, she hadn’t been on many dates. But she didn’t think there was a certain rule over what a date consisted of.

“Absolutely,” he grinned as he pulled into a driveway, “As long as you’re alright with it.” He added a little softer, his gaze tender. Her heart hammered in her chest, fully aware of the way he was looking at her. It was different from the way Billy had watched her.

“I am,” she replied softly, “I’m more than fine with it.” She told him truthfully, trying to ignore the guilt that was brewing inside of her. She had nothing to feel bad for. She was single. She was allowed to move on, with whomever she wanted.

She carried her present into the house, glancing around in awe at how pretty the inside was. She knew the Harrington’s had money, but it was far more grand than she could’ve imagined. Perhaps the biggest house that she had ever set foot in.

The living room was vast, the fireplaces unlit but the room was still warm. Gold garland covered the room, neatly decorated in a specific and meaningful way. She could tell from the fresh smell and the way the branches were shaped that the tree was real. There were no lights on it, rather it was covered with the same golden garland. She took a step closer to it, admiring the various ornaments that decorated the limbs.

“My mom really liked gold this year,” Steve spoke up from behind her, somewhere in the kitchen as she continued to scan the items on the tree, “She picks something new every year.” He continued to explain as she knelt down, admiring the foam gold star that was hanging from the tree limb. She flicked it around, smiling at the picture that rested there.

Steve couldn’t be any older than eight, his hair messy and over his forehead as he smiled brightly. It must’ve been a school project, something that he had worked on years ago. It was sweet.

“So I’ve got uh,” he paused for a moment as he walked back into the room, “Some whiskey or we could smoke a little?” He suggested instead, his eyebrows cocked as she turned to face him. She thought about it for a moment, but decided that alcohol would be too dangerous for her. Anymore, she wasn’t very pleasant when she drank.

“Smoking sounds like fun.” She nodded her head as she followed him, slowly stripping her layers off. She felt awkward standing in the large room, surprised with how large everything was. She wasn’t used to being in a place so grand.

“It’s in my room,” he gestured back towards the stairs, chewing on his bottom lip, “It’s kinda messy.” He apologized as he met her eyes, but she simply shook her head. It couldn’t be any messier than the trailer was right now.

“I don’t mind,” she told him truthfully, holding onto the railing as she followed him upstairs, “Your house is huge. It’s very pretty.” She complimented, surprised by how quiet it was. She supposed that was to be expected, however, considering that there were no nearby neighbors. He didn’t have to worry about Eddie Munson playing his guitar annoying loud at three in the morning.

“That’s all thanks to my mom,” he paused as he glanced back towards her, “I guess you know her.” He crinkled his eyebrows together as she thought about it, reminding herself that she did know his mom.

“Oh yeah,” she nodded her head as she stepped into the room behind him, “She saw me naked.” It slid off of her tongue before she could stop herself, her cheeks flushing as she winced.

“Kinda her job,” he said with a chuckle as he walked towards his bedside table, pulling out a baggy as she inspected the odd wallpaper designs, “Do you want to take a hit first?” He questioned as he slid onto the floor, stretching his long arms out in front of him.

“You can.” She stated as she joined him on the floor. She crossed her ankles as she sat towards him, her knees brushing against his thigh.

“You know how to smoke it?” He questioned her as he held the joint between his lips, looking at her curiously before he lit it. It had been a long time since she’d done it, but she sort of knew what she was doing.

“Yeah,” she said with a little laugh, “I’ve done it before. Oh, but just once. I don’t smoke. Not really. My mom would freak out and I don’t like the taste.” She rambled on quickly, hoping that she wasn’t giving him the wrong idea.

“It’s fine,” he smiled as he watched her, “You don’t have to explain anything to me.” He told her kindly as he took a deep inhale, dropping his head back before he blew the smoke out from between his lips.

She held her fingers out as he passed it to her, trying to ignore the feeling of their fingers brushing together. She was suddenly nervous, her hand trembling as she brought the joint up to her lips. She tried not to think about how it had just been in her mouth, trying not to focus on if she might taste him on it.

She pressed it between her lips, praying that he couldn’t read just how nervous she was. She breathed in deeply, taking a larger hit than she would’ve preferred as she let the smoke settle in her lungs. She did her best to hold it for a second or two, but it smacked into her so roughly that she ended up coughing over it.

“You alright?” He asked worriedly as he brought his palm against her back, lightly patting her skin to help her hack up the smoke that was still clawing its way out of her chest. Her eyes burned, watering as she tried to find the strength to speak.

“Sorry,” she covered her mouth for a moment, her chest still rattling as she tried to hack up the smoke that was clinging to the bottom of her lungs, “That was a lot.” She told him weakly, a tear falling down her cheek as she passed the joint back towards him.

“You did good, Mayfield,” he teased, the sound of her last name rolling off of his tongue nearly made her lungs swell once again, “Try it again.” He encouraged as she rubbed at her chest with her free hand. She breathed in fresh air before she did as he said, taking a smaller hit this time. So much for trying to impress him.

They passed the joint back and forth until she felt a relaxing sensation settling over her. She felt like she was floating in the clouds, her mind calm and her body light. She crawled about the room, determined to inspect what she could.

“You like Lord of the Rings?” She asked as she pulled the book towards her, excitement tingling in her stomach as she blinked a few times to read the title. Her eyes felt heavy, squinted as she realized she was wearing a goofy smile.

Steve was standing for whatever reason, until she noted that he had put her things on his desk. He turned in surprise, eyebrows raising on his forehead as he looked at the book between her fingertips.

“Oh, yeah,” he nodded his head quickly, hands resting on his hips, “It’s uh, it’s great.” He responded as he stuck his tongue out, eyebrows furrowing together like he was concentrating. Or remembering something.

“Sam is my favorite character,” she told him gently, pressing her lips together at the way his eyes widened, like he was searching for something to say, “That’s my dads name.” She added softly as she put the book back, wrapping her fingers around one of the other drawer handles.

“Your dad?” he questioned, features relaxing as his eyes warmed with interest, “Is your dad in San Diego?” He asked as he quickly joined her again, pressing his fingers against the drawer she nearly slid open. Like he was hiding something. She narrowed her eyes as she watched him, trying to determine if there was something secretive in there. She wanted to know.

“Mhm,” she nodded as she pressed her fingertips together, “He’s an alcoholic.” She stated, too tired to fight with his large hands. She moved around again, missing the expression on his features, before her legs felt like jello. Too much work, effort. She was limp.

She giggled as she laid down on the floor, her hands resting above her head as she stared up at the ceiling. She wished she had her little stars that she could stick onto it, feeling like it would be very interesting to look at right about now.

“What are you laughing about?” He asked as he joined her, resting on his side as he laid his cheek in his palm. She watched him, trying not to stare at the way his shirt pulled up in the process. She could make out about an inch of skin, just enough to show the trail of hair that dipped into his pants.

“I can’t believe I’m in your house.” She said as she slowly brought her eyes up towards him again, holding her hands together as another smile formed on her lips. She was sure that she had just gotten caught staring, but she couldn’t worry about it at the moment.

“Why?” He furrowed his eyebrows as his expression slowly relaxed, the corners of his lips curling into a smile. Like the weed had finally hit him.

“I thought you hated me.” She told him seriously, softly. She was exposing a secret, one that she was sure he didn’t know. But then again, maybe he had hated her at one point.

“Hated you?” he asked, tilting his head in disbelief, “I never hated you. I told you the whole thing with Rob-, I mean my friend, I couldn’t just intervene.” He said with a serious nod of his head, a small laugh slipping from his lips.

“Alright.” She narrowed her eyes playfully before she turned back towards the ceiling, wondering if she could make out any designs from that far up. She held her hands out in front of her, stretching her fingers out as she did so.

“I didn’t think you were actually into me anyway,” he said, making her crinkle her eyebrows together as she looked at him in disbelief, “Okay, maybe you made it a little obvious.” He admitted as he laughed, making her giggle all over again.

“I’ll be embarrassed about that tomorrow.” She said as she roughly dropped her hands to her sides, wincing at the hard way she hit the floor. She knew she had been obvious about it. Damn it.

“You shouldn’t be,” he huffed as he turned her chin in his direction, “I also liked you.” His tone was softer, huskier as he admitted it to her. She giggled again, surprised at how close they were to one another.

“But you didn’t do dumb things like I did.” She told him honestly, thinking about how she would desperately search for him no matter where she went. Even if it was grocery shopping with Susan. She sought him out. It was embarrassing.

“What did you do?” He asked suddenly, tilting his head as his eyes lingered on her lips again. He had a similar goofy smile on his lips, only she was sure that he wore it a lot better than she did.

“Nothing,” she said quickly, thinking of her stupid journal. Good riddance to it. Steve would never know about it, “You’re being tricky.” She pushed at his shoulder gently, her fingers remaining as he moved back against her.

“Am I?” He teased her, his hand falling to the side of her face. She was aware of how hard her heart was beating against her bones as he slowly tucked her hair behind her ear. She gulped hard, recalling the similar motions. He rubbed his fingers across her cheek next, then against her chin.

“Are you a virgin?” She asked him suddenly, unsure of why that slipped off of her tongue. It made her laugh all over again. It was a ridiculous question, but she was curious.

“Am I a-,” he paused as he looked at her, his expression turning to disbelief before he started to laugh, “Did you really ask me that?” He laughed, the gap between their faces suddenly fading.

“I did,” she confirmed with a nod of her head, feeling a grin form on her lips, “I know you’re not.” She said at last, tracing her finger across the design on his sweater.

“And how do you know that?” His question surprised her, because it wasn’t uncommon knowledge at all. She had heard a lot of things when she first moved here.

“Lots of girls talk,” she explained, “And I heard about how you took Nancy’s virginity.” She teased as she thought about it, thinking about how badly she had wanted him to take hers. She was silly back then.

“Tommy?” He grumbled as he asked, sighing like he already knew. She bit her lip, wondering if she should give the answer away.

“He has a big mouth,” she giggled as she held her hands to her chest, “I like him though. He’s sweet.” She admitted as she nodded her head roughly. Even though Tommy was gone now, and he could be a dick.

“Only because he wants to get into your pants.” He grumbled as he fell down next to her, resting his arms behind his head. His shirt lifted higher this time, all the way up to his belly button. She stared greedily, wondering if he liked when people kissed that exposed area of his skin.

“What was your favorite thing to do during sex?” She interrogated him as she rolled onto her side this time, doing everything she could to keep from reaching out and touching him. She suddenly felt warm, like there was energy buzzing inside of her.

“What’s with all the sex questions?” He turned towards her, a lazy look resting across his features as his lips curled into an even deeper grin. He thought she was teasing him, but she really wasn’t. But she was still with it enough to know that she shouldn’t admit to being horny right now.

“I haven’t had sex in a long time,” she admitted, “Well-,” She paused as she counted on her fingers, then restarted once she lost track, “Almost five months. Which is a long time, but not the biggest stretch I’ve ever had, you know?” She spoke out loud, surprising herself. Maybe he didn’t want to know that.

“You’re odd.” He said at last, laughing as he looked at her. It took her a moment to realize that he was being funny too. It would not be fun to get kicked out of his house in this condition.

“I think I miss sex,” she whispered underneath her breath, watching the way his hazy eyes widened, “But like a specific kind of sex, you know? Were you like that?” She asked him, feeling like he could relate to a heartbreak or two. There had been Nancy and then there was Gina. Poor guy faced it back to back.

“I’m still in a rut,” he muttered as he exhaled deeply, wrinkling his nose up, “But yeah, I guess I know what you mean.” He was staring at the wall this time, looking to be deep in through.

She continued to let her eyes drop back to his exposed stretch of skin, imagining herself crawling over to him. She thought about placing her lips just above his jeans, then kissing up towards his belly button. She wondered if it was wrong that she wanted to taste him, just to flick her tongue out and tease him a little bit.

“What kind of sex do you miss?” He asked curiously, drawing her out of her dirty thoughts. She could vaguely feel the warmth dipping down between her legs, making her clit throb in pleasure. There was a lot of sex that she missed. All of it.

“Blowjobs,” she answered quickly, surprising herself, “I don’t know why I just said that.” She said with wide eyes, covering her mouth as she muffled her laughter. He sat up, sadly making his shirt slid back down in the process.

“You haven’t been with anyone else, right?” He asked her curiously, his eyes slightly reddened. She looked at how messy his hair was, like he had been messing with it.

“Is that a problem?” she asked seriously, feeling a little worried, “No, I haven’t been with anyone else. But I think I know what I’m doing.” She replied as confidently as she could. At least, she thought she was doing a good job.

“Are you bragging?” He questioned her, looking whimsical. But maybe he was admiring her once again. She couldn’t really tell. Not in this state.

“No,” she replied quickly, a goofy smile forming on her lips, “I’m just saying that I’m somewhat experienced. I think.” She added at last, giggling as she brought her hands over her face.

“Are you going to ask me what I miss?” He hummed, suddenly leaning over her as he pulled her hands away from her face. She stared up at his big brown eyes, enjoying the shape of them. There was something about them that made her feel warm, wanted. She kept herself near him, not wanting him to move his fingers away from her wrists.

“Oh, yes,” she nodded her head urgently, “What do you miss about sex, Steve Harrington?” She asked as she bit down on her bottom lip, stretching her legs out as she shifted softly. She wondered if he knew just how much this was effecting her.

“I liked eating pussy,” he said as he rolled on his back, sighing deeply, “I mean I like it. I just haven’t been able to do it in a while.” His expression was almost sinister, showing just how much he craved it.

“Why?” she wondered out loud, “You’ve had dates.” She pointed out as she moved her fingers down towards his, lacing them gently. She expected him to pull away, only to be surprised as he held onto her tighter.

“Easy, quick sex,” he confirmed with a nod of his head, “Nothing fun.” He crinkled his nose up, taking her by surprise. She didn’t hear many guys say that.

Their eyes locked so intensely that she wondered if he knew what she was thinking, or at least could read it by her expression. Her heart was beating roughly, shaking against her organs and bones. She wondered if he looked close enough that he could see the outline. She felt exposed, but noted that part of him was also laid open for her to discuss.

“You’re really beautiful, Kimberly Mayfield.” His tone was soft, barely louder than a whisper as his eyes drifted across her features. His expression was dreamy, eyes filled with a tender look as his free hand moved to her cheek again.

“Rose.” She whispered back, slightly stunned by the amorous gaze that remained in his brown eyes. He looked far more fond than she was prepared for.

“What?” He asked as a little chuckle left his lips, his head moving back and forth in confusion. She grinned as she moved her hand to his hip. She could feel the electricity brewing underneath her fingertips, driving her wild.

“My full name is Kimberly Rose Mayfield.” She corrected as she tilted her head up towards him, lightly bumping her tiny nose against his strong one. She lingered there for a moment, breathing it all in.

“Oh, my bad,” he apologized with a laugh, holding his hand over his chest, “Then you’re very beautiful, Kimberly Rose Mayfield.” He stated correctly this time, something sentimental hiding underneath his expression.

“Thank you,” she laughed hysterically for a moment, her lungs burning and insides twisting, “I appreciate it.” She told him softly as she sat up closer, her lips parting as his eyes fell to her mouth again.

He leaned forward slowly, his eyes hazy and slightly squinted as his sweet breath fanned over her face. She felt her heart stalling in her chest, unmoving as his mouth fell against hers. She felt her eyes fluttering shut, a warmth spreading from where their mouths met.

He kissed her softly, gently, like he was somehow nervous. Which didn’t make sense, because how could he be timid around someone like her? His large hand fell against her jawline, his thumb pressing against her cheek as he dragged his lips slowly across hers.

It took another second for her mind and her body to connect, to really feel the rush of his skin against her own as she moved closer. She kissed him just as hesitantly, something new and exciting. It was sensual, more subtle than what she was used to.

She sat up on her elbows as her body flushed as he slid between her legs, his body soft and lanky as she dragged her lips harder against his. He fell against her, his body flush against hers as she laced her fingers through his hair. Soft groans filled the air, sparking excitement through her body as she felt herself growing wet against her panties. Hot. She was suddenly too hot.

Steve’s nose brushed against hers as he pulled away slowly, exhaling roughly as he fought to catch his breath. But she was already too far gone, desperate for the feeling of him on her once again. She was greedy, she wanted more. One taste wasn’t enough for her.

Her lips fell against the corner of his mouth, kissing softly as little pants fell from his swollen lips. She flicked her tongue out as she licked away the leftover saliva, unsure if it was hers or his. It didn’t really matter. He tasted sweet, like grapes and a hint of chocolate from the candy bar he had shared with her.

She was on top of him this time, straddling his lap as her hands fell to his jaw. She ran her palms across his smooth skin as she continued to drag her tongue across the curve of his mouth. She licked away his moans, spurred by the feeling of her clit throbbing against her panties.

He breathed in deeply, exhaling just as roughly as he placed his palm against hers. She stared for a moment, tilting her head as she compared the way his fingers were far longer than hers. There was something sensual in the way he held onto her, how he looked at her. She craved more of it.

“Did you try them on?” He asked suddenly, licking his bottom lip as he squeezed their fingers together softly. She moved forward, fighting every urge in her to keep from grinding her hips down against him.

“What?” She questioned after she thought about it for a minute, trying to decide what he was talking about. He laughed softly, looking like he was still out of breath.

“The earrings.” He clarified as he continued to look at her lips, like he was resisting the urge to kiss her again. She wondered if she had pushed him too far based on how he had changed the topic.

“Oh,” she paused as she brought her eyes back towards his, her chest rising and falling roughly, “No, not yet. Do you want me to?” She asked, more than willing to do whatever he wanted.

“You don’t have to.” He shook his head softly, but she was already standing. His fingers fell from her hands, slowly tracing the curve of her long legs instead.

“Hold on,” she told him softly, giggling as she pulled her box free. She looked around the room before she decided otherwise, “I’ll be right back.” She told him as she held one finger up, racing out of the room before he could say otherwise.

She searched for a moment before she found the bathroom; setting up the area for herself. She pushed her hair out of her face, confirming that her makeup looked alright before she slid her earrings in. Then she went to work.

It took a whole thirty seconds for her to convince herself that stripping down was worth the risk of Steve shooing her out of his room. He seemed interested in her thus far, she was sure that he would like this. At least she hoped that he would.

“Close your eyes,” she spoke up quickly as she stood outside the door, thinking about how mortified she’d be if his parents caught her, “Are they closed?” She asked, listening to the little hum in confirmation.

She slowly moved into the room, then shut the door behind her as she examined the way he was sitting on the edge of his bed. His large palms were over his shut eyes, his light smile exposed as she moved in front of him.

She decided that settling on her knees was best, but truly had no idea if that looked sexy or not. She just went with it, hoping for the best as she moved her hands onto her palms. She breathed in deeply, knowing she needed to speak before she made herself too nervous.

“You can open your eyes.” She told him gently, her nerves hidden away from the weed in her system as he removed his hands quickly. He still had a giddy expression on his features until he took her in, all of that sliding away as he inspected her.

His pink lips spread as an awestruck expression filled his face, his eyes falling towards her perky tits, and staying there for some time. She bit her bottom lip, trying not to fuss with her hair as his eyes continued to linger over her body.

“What are you doing?” His voice came out like a squeak, higher pitched and whiny as she moved her fingers to loosen his belt. His eyes darkened, filling with lust as he continued to stare after her movements.

“I want to make you feel good,” she hummed softly, “Is that alright with you?” She tilted her head as she watched him, confirming the way he nodded his head slowly before she began to tug on his jeans. She needed them off. Now.

“Okay,” he breathed out, cheeks burning pink as he shifted his hips up so she could pull his pants down easily. She moved her fingers across his large bulge, excitement pooling in her stomach as she greedily eyed him, “You really don’t have to-,”

His words cut off as she stuck her tongue out, dragging the flat part across his concealed hard on. He yelped at the sensation, his head dropping back as she continued to trace her tongue across his briefs.

She moaned as she looped her fingers around the band of his briefs and tugged them down his hairy thighs to expose his hardened cock. She stared, jaw dropping as his dick sprang free. He was long, much bigger than what she was used to. He wasn’t quite as thick, but she wasn’t worried about that. Her fingers fit around his girth perfectly.

It was odd to think that a dick was pretty, but his really was. He was slightly paler, his tip a soft pink and leaking against his skin. His balls were round, heavy and resting against a thick tuft of dark hair. She followed the thick base of his cock, observing as it slowly evened out, his dick curving towards the right.

“S’pretty,” she mumbled out, biting down on her bottom lip as she pressed her fingers slowly around his girth. He whimpered at the feeling, his hips thrusting forward as a gleeful sound left her lips, “Stevie, you have a really nice cock.”

“Thanks,” he squeaked out, staring at her as she gave his cock a little stroke. She chewed on her inner cheek as she looked at the way his precum collected at his tip, leaking over onto her fingers, “S’nice.”

She stuck her tongue out against his pink tip, licking away his slick and savoring it in her mouth. She moaned at the taste, so bitter and musky. So him. She felt a little feral, needy as she slid her lips over his leaking tip. Lust boiled inside of her as she sucked softly, flicking her tongue out against his warm skin gently.

“Oh,” he groaned as he dropped his head once again, his fingers gripping his blankets tightly as her lips stretched along his smooth skin. She kept her eyes focused on the way his shut, how he knitted his eyebrows together in bliss, “That’s-, that’s really nice.” He moaned, lips parting in bliss.

It took everything in her to keep from closing her eyes and savoring the taste of his cock in her mouth. She was sure that she could sit there for hours, her mouth stuffed full as she drooled around him. It was heavenly.

And his eyes remained closed. She couldn’t have that. She needed him to look at her, to appreciate her. She pulled away.

“Eyes on me,” she giggled softly as she squeezed his chin, forcing his eyes down towards her. He looked at her surprised, cheeks slightly flushed as he nodded his head, “And take your shirt off.” She demanded, surprised at her own bossy tone. Not quite commanding, but she did sound bratty.

He nodded his head as he watched her, his movements quick as he struggled to get the sweater off of his head. She grinned as she watched, enjoying the way his soft muscles moved. He was more lanky, softer and covered in dark hair. But she liked it all the same.

The hair from his chest reached clear down to his dick, a nice trail that she let her fingertips follow. She watched as goosebumps formed on his mole covered skin, many places for her to explore later.

She kissed up his abdomen, leaving a trail of saliva behind as she reached his belly button. She moaned, unable to help herself as she kissed along the cute little area. A smile leaving her lips before she stuck her tongue out against the soft hole, taking a soft lick of him. A little gasp left his lips as he moved his hips upward, his spit soaked dick brushing against her chin. She giggled at the sensation.

“Do you want me to suck your cock?” She questioned him as she laced her fingers across his girth again, giving him a little squeeze. He groaned at the sensation, hips jerking at the way her free hand gripped his balls.

“You have a dirty mouth,” he said as his chest rose and fell harshly, his cheeks pink from how out of breath he was, “Really dirty.” His lips looked swollen, like he had been biting on them too much.

“Do you mean slutty?” She giggled as she traced her nails through the hair near his balls, “You can call me a slut. Or a whore. I don’t mind.” She told him honestly, wiggling a little closer to him. She liked being called all of those things.

“I-,” he paused as he stared at her, his eyes wide as he continued to stare at her in admiration, “You’re something else.” He spoke in disbelief, fascination swirling underneath his dark eyes as she gave his long cock another slow stroke.

She felt confident at the sounds that left his lips, how breathless and whiny he became as she pressed her lips up against his tip again. She gave him a little kiss, trying to fight the urge to smile before she slid his dick inside of her mouth.

His eyes became hooded as he stared at her, his pretty lips parting as she began to slowly bob her mouth up and down the curve of his cock. She pressed her tongue out slowly, following the strong vein as she moved her hands down to his balls. She squeezed them softly, earning a louder groan from him.

The sounds of pleasure that rolled off of his tongue were whiny, higher pitched and breathless as she rolled her tongue around his cock. She felt greedy as she slipped more and more of him into her mouth, craving the validation that he gave her as his eyes locked onto hers tenderly.

“S’beautiful,” he groaned as he pushed her hair out of her face, gasping at the way she continued to lock eyes with him. She furrowed her eyebrows together as his cock hit the back of her throat, far quicker than what she was used to, “God. You feel so good.”

She continued to squeeze at his balls, massaging them softly as she worked on taking his cock deeper in her mouth. She let some saliva fall from her lips, coating the part that she couldn’t stuff into her mouth quite yet. But she was determined.

She gagged as she pushed more of his curved cock into her mouth, her lips stretching around his girth as drool slid over his heavy balls. He whined as he thrust his hips forward, whimpering as his eyes began to flutter shut. Bliss spread over his features as his moans became deeper, louder.

She drooled around him, saliva falling from the corners of her lips as she buried more of his cock inside of her mouth. She could feel his tip dragging against the back of her throat, making her gag repeatedly as she continued to bob her head up and down the curve of his cock.

The sound of her lips around his cock was messy, filthy as drool continued to fall from her mouth. She could feel it on her boobs, on her knees as it continued to coat his balls. Her eyes watered as she successfully pressed his cock all the way into her mouth, her lungs burning and lips aching at the stretch of it all. She had never had something so deep inside of her throat, making it contract and throb at the same time.

“Fuck, fuck,” he grunted as he tangled his fingers through her hair, his hips moving furiously to the motions of her mouth, “Sorry, m’sorry. Feels so good. Fuck, sorry. Can’t help it.” He spit out roughly, his tone whiny and desperate as he continued to fuck into her mouth.

She continued to gag around him, forcing her eyes to stay open as she watched the desperation that filled out on his features. His eyes were filled with lust, with awe and amazement as he roughly began to press his hips up against her motions.

“Fuck!” he snapped his hips forward harshly, his fingers gripping her hair tightly as he buried his dick in her throat. She moaned at the look on his features, at the way his thighs shook as his cock twitched inside of her mouth, “Oh fuck, sorry. M’sorry, so sorry.” He apologized, his hot cum filled her mouth, making her eyes burn from how intense it was.

She moaned as she pulled away, a mess of spit and cum leaking from her mouth and his cock as she breathed in fresh air. Her lungs screamed at the feeling, desperate for more as her chest rose and fell heavily.

He stared at her in awe, his lips spread widely as he pressed his hands roughly through his hair. Little whimpers continued to leave his mouth as his cock fell against his skin, still coated in her spit.

She pulled herself up slowly, her legs shaking as she straddled his lap. It took only a little push to knock him onto his back, to earn another groan from him as his dick slid between his abdomen and her thigh.

His lips were puffy and pink, pretty. She dragged her fingertips across them slowly, spreading them just enough to peek at his teeth. They were shiny and bright, nice. She didn’t think as she pressed her lips together, slowly spitting the mixture of cum and saliva into his mouth.

He stared at her wide-eyed, a similar look on his features as a loud moan left his lips. He swallowed it harshly, his hands falling to her hips as he began to rock up against her. He hissed at the sensation, desperation laced on his features.

“I need you so badly.” He whined as he rutted up against her pathetically, his features knitted in pleasure. She giggled at the way pleasure spread through her body again. Her cunt was soaked, aching and desperate to feel him too. But she waited. She liked being in control for once.

“What do you need?” she teased as she pressed her fingers against his chin, “Use your words.” She whispered softly, enjoying the way he melted in her hands. He rutted his cock up against her again, whimpering.

“Wanna taste your pussy,” he exhaled harshly, “Please. Let me taste you. I’ll make you feel good.” He promised as he dug his fingers into her fleshy hips. He nodded his head, trying to encourage her. She really wished she was strong enough to tease him a little longer, but she wanted him just as desperately.

A giggle fell from her lips as he rolled her over, her back resting comfortably against his soft sheets. She grinned as she sat up on her elbows, enjoying the greedy way his eyes drank in the image of her. She stuck her foot out playfully, poking his side gently with the tips of her toes.

Steve slid right in between her legs, nestling comfortably against her thighs as he dipped his face down towards hers again. A soft smile formed on his lips before he pecked her mouth; once and then twice. It made her pulse soar, butterflies rising in her tummy even though it was just a simple touch. He had such a way of making her heart throb.

Her eyes felt even heavier as she watched his lips slowly trail down the length of her body, his lips soft and smooth as he ran his large hands across her sides. She breathed in deeply as goosebumps formed underneath his touch, her nipples hardening as he flicked his tongue out across the curve of her boobs.

She moaned at the feeling of his lips around her nipple, kissing and sucking softly before he switched to the next one. His groans vibrated across her skin, his breath hot against her skin before he pulled away again.

She felt like she was on fire as he spread her legs further apart, squeezing his shoulders between her thighs before he gripped her hips gently. He had a cocky look in his eyes, his expression full of want as he exhaled warmly across her slick cunt.

She moaned as she felt a heavy sensation settling over her, her mind feeling fuzzy as his lips fell right above her pussy. She inhaled sharply, lungs burning as her clit throbbed in anticipation.

“She’s so wet for me,” he groaned softly as he drifted his fingers lightly through her folds. She lurched forward, desperate to be touched, “Can I taste you?” He questioned as his eyes met hers, her pulse racing harshly against the crook of her neck.

“Yes,” she finally managed to breath out, her eyes locked on the way he rolled his tongue out against his bottom lip; “Please.” She added softer, unsure if she could relay just how needy she really was.

His dark eyes drifted away from hers, his eyelids hiding his lust as he took a deep inhale of her scent. She blushed then, stomach twisting at the groan that fell from his lips. It was deep and carnal, like he’d been waiting for this moment.

She jolted at the feeling of his broad tongue across her cunt, slow and timid like he was savoring the taste of her. Everything inside of her burned, her thighs twitching at the sensation.

“Steve,” slipped from her lips easily, her mind growing foggy at the way he continued to slide his tongue through her folds, “Oh fuck.” She sighed in relief, body trembling underneath his greedy grip.

His fingertips dug into her fleshy thighs, gripping her tighter as he buried his head closer to her as he pressed his tongue rougher against her clit. He was delicate, yet intense at the same time as he memorized the way her sensitive bud was shaped.

Deep moans left her lips as he slowly wrapped his lips around her clit, sucking roughly before he flickered his tongue out. She crooned as her fingers fell to his thick hair, tugging on his strands of hair as her hips left the mattress. He groaned from between her legs, his movements sloppy yet calculated.

“Oh my God,” she whined deeply, her lungs tightening in pleasure while he pressed the tip of his tongue across her wet hole. Her walls trembled as he took broad licks of her cunt, grunting as his fingertips dug deeper into her hips, “Right there. Oh God.” She chanted, her eyes rolling into the back of her head as he greedily lapped at her cunt.

Her feet dragged against the mattress as the pleasure burned deep inside of her veins, electricity brewing inside of her stomach as his sounds of pleasure vibrated through her body. She gaped as she gripped his hair tighter, rocking her body up against his mouth.

Her toes curled in bliss as he curled his tongue deeper inside of her pussy, licking and prodding in rhythm to the way she was rocking her hips across his mouth. She gripped his hair harder, twisting the locks between her fingers as loud whines fell from his lips.

His nose dug against her clit as he curled his tongue deeper inside of her cunt; licking at her sloppy walls. She was leaking around his tongue, against his lips as the muscles inside of her stomach tightened and shook. She whined loudly, her moans bouncing off of the walls as her orgasm suddenly crashed over her.

“Steve, Steve!” Whimpers rolled off of her tongue, her chest rising and falling harshly as her cunt clamped down around his tongue. Her clit ached as he dug his face in deeper, his nose pressing roughly against her sensitive bud as her body vibrated from her orgasm, “Oh fuck.” She crooned, hips rolling off of the bed and against his greedy mouth.

He continued to lap at her, moaning as he licked away her cum. His eyes were heavy and dark as he looked back up at her, a look of desperation on his features as remnants of her cum stained his face. It was filthy, but she liked it. A lot.

“So beautiful,” He groaned as he pressed a fingertip against her slick hole, lips parting at the same time a gasp left her tongue, “She’s so needy for me. Taking me so well.” He rambled as he slid his finger inside of her slowly, making her gape at the sensation.

His digits were long and slender, instantly pressing up against her bundle of nerves with one slight curl. Whimpers fell easily from her lips as he pumped his finger in and out of her sloppy hole,

She tugged him forward by his hair, earning a loud groan from him before she flicked her tongue out against his swollen lips. She messily lapped at his lips, devouring the taste of herself. His breath was hot against her face as he pulled away, brown eyes wide with lust.

She chewed on her bottom lip as she kept their eyes linked, rolling her hips forward slowly as soft whines fell from her lips. His finger felt glorious inside of her, but she enjoyed the reaction she was gaining from him too much to focus on her own pleasure.

She wrapped her fingers around his wrist lazily, giving his hand a little squeeze before she slowly pulled him away from her. He watched with heavy eyes as she placed his finger in her mouth, moaning as she wrapped her lips around his long digit. She couldn’t help the way she moaned and drooled around him, the fire inside of her was burning too harshly.

“Jesus Christ,” he moaned as she continued to swirl her tongue between his fingers, greedily licking away the taste of her on his flesh, “what are you doing to me?” He shook his head as he looked at her in disbelief, parting her lips just enough that he could get a good look at her teeth and gums. Then at her tongue.

“I want you,” she whispered underneath her breath, her chest rising and falling harshly, “Please. I want to feel your cock inside of me.” She mumbled as he pulled his hand away, drool sliding onto her chin and neck.

“Jesus.” He spit out harshly, shaking his head as lust took over his features again. He looked just as depraved as she felt, like he would bite her if she asked. She wanted that. She wanted everything that he had to offer.

“I’ll be good,” she continued on, purring as she ran her nails through his chest hair, “Real good. I promise. Let me make you feel good again.” She pleaded with him, picturing him spread out underneath her as she bounced on his cock. She thought he’d like that a lot.

“I want to make you feel good,” he offered up inside, pressing his large hands against her shoulders as he shoved her back. She pouted as her head hit the pillows, but didn’t whine for too long as he spread her legs, “God, you’re so beautiful.” He praised loud enough for her to hear, his words sincere as he wrapped his fingers around his cock. He moved away for a second, heading towards his bedside table.

“I’m on the pill,” she spoke up quickly, determined to feel all of him, “It’s okay. I promise.” She nodded her head as she pressed her hands flat against his chest, grinning as she felt his heart beating underneath her touch.

“You-,” he repeated the word slowly, a thoughtful look behind his eyes as a flush settled on his cheeks, “You don’t want me to wear a condom?” He asked her slowly, as lust and shock mixed on his pretty features. She giggled as she leaned forward, dragging her tongue across the curve of his ear.

“I wanna feel your cock inside of me,” she moaned softly as her hands fell to his back, her nails digging into his skin, “I want you to cum inside of me. Please.” She whimpered as she spoke, her teeth grazing against his earlobe before she bit down.

He groaned, body pulsing against hers as he slowly moved away once again. She was unable to fully read the lust in his eyes as he positioned himself between her legs once again, his hairy thighs pressing against the back of hers as he aligned his cock with her pink cunt.

She pressed her knees up to her chest as he slowly slid his tip inside of her puffy walls, making her head spin in pleasure as she stretched along his long cock. She sighed at the way his dick curved inside of her, pressing into her easily.

She flickered her eyelashes as she looked upon him, breathing in the look of pleasure on his expression as he continued to slowly press his hips into her tight pussy. His eyebrows furrowed, lips parting as pitiful moans rolled off of his tongue. He was loud and whiny, different from what she was used to. But she liked it all the same, his sounds of bliss made her stomach coil and twist in awe.

“Fuck,” he whimpered underneath his breath, making her squeal at the way he bottomed out and then quickly snapped his hips forward once again. It slightly hurt, just a bit, but not enough where it wasn’t pleasurable. She had just never been filled this deeply before, so intensely, “You feel so good, baby. So fuckin’ good.” He praised wantonly, sounding more desperate than what she was used to.

Her knees were beginning to ache as he placed his weight on top of her, his hips snapping into her rougher as the curve of his cock pressed deep inside of her. She sighed as each inch slid into her, filling her so deeply that her lungs stretched and ached. Her clit throbbed as he came to a halt, whining as he bottomed out inside of her.

“Stevie,” she whined as she drifted her hands down his spine, fingertips brushing against the constellations on his skin, “So big. Feels nice.” She told him between gasps, a crooked smile forming on her lips as he continually pressed against her bundle of nerves. She wasn’t even sure if he was meaning to do so, but it left her clit aching and cunt twitching around him.

Her nails dug into his skin as he began to rock his cock in and out of her sloppy walls, the sounds of their bodies meeting instantly filling the room. It was loud and filthy, dirty. But it blended nicely with their sounds of pleasure, which were whiny and ravenous.

“Your pussy feels so good,” he praised as he knit his eyebrows harder together, his hips continually snapping against hers as he buried his cock as far as he could reach. Her eyes kept rolling into the back of her head, the electrifying pleasure of his cock strumming against her g-spot left her limp, “Taking my cock so well. Fuck, fuck. You look so beautiful, Kim. So fucking pretty.” He spit out between whines, complimenting her as his lips fell against her cheek.

She rolled her hips up to meet his motions, whining at the way the tip of his cock continually pressed against her deepest crevices. She was crying out this time, her nails scratching at his skin as she tilted her head in his direction. She met his lips sloppily, swapping spit and sounds of bliss as her cunt hugged his cock snugly.

She could feel his balls pressing against her skin, soaked with her slick as he roughly pressed himself into her each time. His thrusts were labored and intense, short and rough before he was burying himself inside of her again. Her lips were dragging against his, not fully kissing him as the pleasure took hold of her. Everything on her was burning, fiery and rough as she clawed at him desperately.

“Steve,” she pleaded from the corner of his mouth, whining as she dug her nails into him harder. She was sure she was cutting skin this time, scratching at him for more than just his skin, “Wanna feel you cum inside of me. Please, please. Fill me up, baby.” She crooned as she cupped his face, watching the way his expression broke.

Something carnal seemed to snap inside of him as his movements became rougher, deeper in some mystical way. Her moans became pleas, loud cries as he dragged her along the curve of his cock. He was desperate, small rambles leaving swollen lips as he crooned loudly. Whining just as loud as she rolled her hips up against his movements.

His head fell to the crook of her shoulder, sweaty and hot as a lewd sound left his lips. Deep and distressed as he buried himself deep inside of her, his balls snug against her skin as his cock trembled against her wet walls.

“Fuck,” he cursed as he drew out his words, spit falling from his lips and onto her skin as he dug his nails into her flesh. His cock throbbed inside of her as thick ropes of cum painted her walls, filling her deeply and leaking out of her slick hole, “Oh Jesus, Kim.” He whined as he reached down, rubbing at her clit as he continued to softly thrust his hips forward.

He was still whining as she roughly began to grind her hips up against him, desperately clinging to him as her muscles tightened inside of her stomach again. She held onto him tightly, crying out as the pleasure pulsed inside of her. She cried out, toes curling as it all crashed over her.

Her cunt squeezed around his girth as she came to a halt, hips pressed up against his wildly as she leaked around the curve of his cock. She came so harshly her eyes rolled into the back of her head once again, curses flying off of her tongue as she melted deeper into the mattress.

She breathed in deeply, inhaling the scent of him as her grip on him slowly released. He was still moaning as he held onto him, fucking his hips into her like he was trying to get all of his pleasure released. It made her giggle, made her felt special.

“Can I be honest with you?” He asked suddenly, still out of breath as he turned his gaze up towards her. She breathed in the image of his blissed expression, his eyes filled with awe.

“Sure.” She told him softly, taking in a deep breath as her chest pressed up against his. His lips curled into a little smile, his eyes still squinty as he brushed his fingers through her hair.

“I’ve never read Lord of the Rings.” He admitted, like it was some big secret. It set her off suddenly, making her laugh as she thought about it. It was funny. This was funny, but it was nice. She wanted more of it.

“I know,” she said with a little giggle, “It doesn’t look like it’s ever been open.” She admitted as she ran her fingers across his skin, smiling as she brushed their noses together. His was strong and long, different than hers.

“I hate reading.” He groaned softly as he shook his head, his hair falling onto her forehead. She hummed as she registered his words, sure that she could change his mind. With time.

“We could read it together,” she suggested, watching the way his eyes twinkled, “If you want to.” She offered, suddenly feeling a little shy. She didn’t want him to think that she was lame or anything. She wanted him to be interested in her.

“I’d love that.” He told her gently, fingertips soft against her skin as he leaned back to admire her. She took it as a promise, hoping that he meant it in that way.

#Steve Harrington #Steve Harrington x oc #Steve Harrington x original character #Steve Harrington x fem!oc #Steve Harrington x female!original character #Steve Harrington x female original character #Steve Harrington x Kim Mayfield #Steve x Kim #Steve Harrington smut #Steve Harrington fluff #Steve Harrington is a good boyfriend #Steve Harrington fanfiction #Steve Harrington fanfic #Steve Harrington imagine #Steve Harrington fic

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rafecamerons-national-anthem · 7 months ago

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𝒞𝐸𝒩𝒪𝐵𝐼𝒯𝐸 𝒞𝒪𝒩𝒩𝐸𝒞𝒯𝐼𝒪𝒩𝒮-𝒟𝑅𝐸𝒲 𝒮𝒯𝒜𝑅𝒦𝐸𝒴

𝕤𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪 During a press tour for Hellraiser, Drew and talk show host Y/N form an unexpected connection.

𝕨𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕤𝕞𝕦𝕥

✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮

The warm buzz of studio lights illuminated the sleek, modern set of the entertainment talk show. Drew Starkey flashing a charming smile at the production assistant who gave him the countdown to go live. He was deep in the whirlwind of press for Hellraiser in which he played Trevor, a character shrouded in mystery and moral ambiguity. Despite the grueling schedule of interviews, Drew had learned to carry his infectious humor and calm charisma into every conversation.

“Three, two, one…and we’re live!” the producer signaled.

The interviewer, Y/N, stepped forward. She was radiant, exuding a blend of professionalism and a unique personal warmth that made her interviews resonate with both her audience and the celebrities she spoke with. Drew couldn’t help but notice how her smile lit up the room.

“Welcome to our show! Today, we have the talented Drew Starkey with us to talk about his latest film, Hellraiser. Drew, thank you for joining us!”

“It’s a pleasure to be here,” he replied, his Southern lilt soft but captivating.

Y/N dove into the interview with ease, asking him questions about his process for preparing for such a psychologically complex role and how he found working with a legendary franchise like Hellraiser. Drew answered thoughtfully, occasionally cracking jokes that had her laughing. He found her laughter infectious.

“So, Trevor is a character who’s…let’s just say, morally gray,” Y/N said, leaning forward. “Did you find it challenging to connect with him?”

Drew paused, his piercing blue eyes locking with hers. “Trevor’s definitely not someone you’d call a role model,” he said with a laugh. “But I think he’s fascinating because he’s so human. He’s flawed, and those flaws are what make him interesting.”

Y/N nodded, impressed. “It sounds like you really dug deep. Were there moments where you found yourself almost sympathizing with him, despite…well, everything?”

“Absolutely,” Drew said, his gaze softening. “I think every character deserves to be understood, even when their actions aren’t right. And maybe I’m a little biased, but I think there’s a part of Trevor that genuinely believed he could fix things, until it all unraveled.”

Y/N leaned back, her expression thoughtful. “It’s always interesting to see actors bring that kind of depth to roles like this. You’ve definitely piqued my interest even more now!”

Drew grinned. “That’s the goal.”

As the interview progressed, Drew felt himself becoming more and more captivated by Y/N. She had an intelligence and kindness that made the conversation flow naturally. There was a twinkle in her eye whenever she teased him, and Drew found himself leaning into their banter.

At one point, when Y/N asked him about the practical effects used in the film, Drew leaned in, smirking. “You sound like you’ve been doing your homework. Big Hellraiser fan?”

She laughed, pretending to be offended. “Are you suggesting I didn’t know about Hellraiser before this interview?”

Drew chuckled. “Not at all. But now I’m wondering, are you more of a Cenobite fan or Team Trevor?”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, playing along. “Team Trevor? Hmm. I think I need to see the movie first before I pledge my allegiance.”

“Fair enough,” Drew replied. “But I’ll hold you to that.”

As the interview wrapped up, Y/N thanked Drew for his time. “This has been such a fun conversation,” she said genuinely.

“Likewise,” Drew said. And before he knew it, he blurted, “Hey, uh…do you usually do these interviews, or was this a one time thing?”

Y/N tilted her head, a hint of curiosity in her smile. “I host the show, so I do this often. Why do you ask?”

Drew scratched the back of his neck, uncharacteristically nervous. “Oh, just wondering. You’re really good at this, that’s all.”

“Thank you,” she said warmly.

Before he left the studio, Drew caught her in the hallway. “Y/N,” he said, stopping her gently. “I know this might be weird since we just met, but would you maybe want to grab coffee sometime? Totally casual.”

Y/N blinked, momentarily surprised. Then her lips curved into a smile. “Totally casual?” she teased.

Drew chuckled. “Well, I’d settle for coffee, but if you’d rather get dinner, I wouldn’t complain.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “You know what? Why not? I’d love to.”

As Drew walked away, his heart felt lighter than it had in weeks. Press tours could be exhausting, but every so often, they brought something unexpected, like meeting someone who made you feel like a character in a story worth telling.

The days following their brief hallway encounter played out like a whirlwind for Drew, who was consumed by interviews, fan events, and late night talk show appearances. But amidst the chaos, one thought kept him grounded, his upcoming coffee date with Y/N. He hadn’t felt this level of nervous anticipation in a long time, and it was both exhilarating and terrifying.

For Y/N, her own schedule wasn’t any less hectic. Between prepping for future interviews and managing the behind the scenes chaos of her show, she found herself replaying snippets of her conversation with Drew in her mind. There was something about his genuine nature, the way he didn’t take himself too seriously, that intrigued her.

The day of their coffee meet up, Drew arrived early at a cozy cafe tucked into a quiet street corner. The smell of fresh pastries and espresso filled the air, and Drew ordered two lattes to keep himself busy. His usual cool demeanor was slightly offset by the way he kept glancing toward the door.

When Y/N walked in, her presence immediately lit up the room. Dressed casually but effortlessly stylish, she smiled when she spotted him waving her over.

“Hey,” she said as she approached the table. “You didn’t have to order for me, but I appreciate it.”

“Figured I’d take a gamble,” Drew said, sliding the latte toward her. “If you hate it, I’ll drink it and get you something else. Full service.”

She laughed, taking a seat. “Luckily for you, this is perfect.”

The conversation picked up right where they’d left off during the interview, flowing naturally as they talked about everything from their favorite movies to embarrassing audition stories. Drew opened up about the quirks of filming Hellraiser and how the dark themes sometimes left him mentally drained.

Y/N shared stories from her career, admitting that interviewing celebrities wasn’t always glamorous, especially when some arrived moody or overly guarded. “But you,” she said, smirking, “are definitely one of the better ones.”

“High praise,” Drew said with a grin. “I’ll try not to let it go to my head.”

As the hours ticked by, Drew felt the initial nerves dissolve into something far more comfortable. He found himself studying the way Y/N laughed, how her eyes lit up when she talked about things she was passionate about.

“So,” she said, leaning back in her chair, “what’s next for you? Are you diving into another project right away?”

“I’ve got a couple of things lined up,” he said. “But nothing set in stone yet. Honestly, it’s nice to just…breathe for a second. What about you? Any big interviews coming up?”

She chuckled. “A few. But I think this one might be hard to top.”

Drew raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Was it the latte? Or my winning personality?”

“Let’s call it a combination,” she teased.

By the time they finished their coffee, neither wanted to leave. Drew hesitated for a moment before asking, “This was really great. Would you want to do it again? Maybe dinner next time?”

Y/N tilted her head, a playful smile tugging at her lips. “Are you asking me out, Mr. Starkey?”

He laughed, leaning forward slightly. “I think I am. Is that okay?”

“It’s more than okay,” she said softly.

As their dates became more frequent, the chemistry between Drew and Y/N grew impossible to ignore. Dinner at a quaint Italian bistro turned into an after-hours walk through the city streets, the glow of streetlights illuminating their path. Drew found himself gravitating closer to her, their arms brushing with every step.

“You know,” Y/N said, glancing up at him, “this feels kind of surreal. I usually keep my personal life pretty…private.”

Drew stopped walking, gently catching her hand to pull her into a quiet alcove away from the crowd. The faint hum of the city was their only audience. “Do you want to keep this private?” he asked, his voice low but steady.

She searched his face, her heart racing. “I don’t know. I guess I’m just not used to this kind of attention.”

Drew smiled, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “I get that. But for what it’s worth, I’d fight to keep this, whatever this is, away from all the noise. You’re worth it.”

Y/N felt her breath hitch as his hand lingered near her cheek. Drew’s eyes, a mesmerizing shade of blue under the streetlights, searched hers as if seeking permission. Without thinking, she stepped closer, their faces mere inches apart.

“Drew…” she began, but before she could finish, his lips brushed against hers, tentative at first, as if testing the waters.

The kiss deepened almost instantly, the world around them melting away. Drew’s hand slid to the small of her back, pulling her closer as her fingers tangled in his hair. The warmth of his touch sent sparks through her, and she couldn’t help but smile against his lips.

When they finally broke apart, both slightly breathless, Drew let out a soft chuckle. “I’ve been wanting to do that since the interview,” he admitted, his forehead resting against hers.

“Really?” Y/N asked, teasing. “Because I thought you were playing it cool back then.”

“Oh, I was trying,” Drew said, his grin widening. “But you made it impossible.”

Their shared laughter echoed softly in the night, and Drew laced his fingers with hers as they continued their walk. The lingering electricity between them made every glance, every accidental touch, feel loaded with anticipation.

Later that night, as they stood outside Y/N’s apartment, Drew hesitated. “I don’t want to push,” he said, his voice sincere. “But I also don’t really want to say goodbye just yet.”

Y/N bit her lip, her cheeks flushing. “Then don’t.”

Drew followed her inside, and the moment the door closed, the restraint they’d shown earlier dissolved. He pressed her gently against the wall, his hands framing her face as their lips collided in a heated kiss. The room filled with the quiet sounds of their shared passion, her hands gripping the lapels of his jacket as he trailed kisses along her jawline.

Drew’s heart hammered in his chest as he took in the sight of her. Her eyes sparkled with a fiery desire that mirrored his own. He couldn’t believe this was happening. They’d danced around their feelings for what felt like an eternity, and now they were finally giving in to the magnetic pull that had drawn them together.

Her scent was intoxicating, a blend of sweet vanilla and a hint of something spicy that made him want to devour her whole. His hands slid down from her face to the curve of her neck, his thumbs tracing the delicate line of her collarbone as they kissed with a hunger that seemed insatiable.

Her breath was hot against his skin as she whispered his name, sending a shiver down his spine. He responded by deepening the kiss, his tongue exploring the warm cavern of her mouth as her own danced with his. The world outside the room ceased to exist; all that mattered was the feel of her body pressed against his, the taste of her, the sound of her moaning softly in response to his touch.

With a growl of desire, Drew lifted her up, her legs wrapping around his waist as he carried her to the bed. He laid her down gently, breaking the kiss only long enough to remove his jacket and shirt. She sat up, eager to help, her nimble fingers working on the buttons of his pants. "Take these off," she demanded, her voice low and sultry. "I need you. Now."

Their clothes fell away in a tangle of fabric, revealing the raw beauty of their entwined limbs. Drew's muscles rippled in the dim light, and she couldn't help but admire him. He paused for a moment to appreciate the view of her lying before him, her chest heaving with anticipation. The air was thick with tension, charged with the electricity of their desire.

Her hands roamed over his bare chest, feeling the rapid beating of his heart beneath her fingertips. He kissed her again, harder this time, as if trying to claim every inch of her. Their bodies rolled together on the bed, a tapestry of limbs and passion. He could feel the heat emanating from her, and it fueled his own need.

Their kisses grew more feverish, their breaths mingling in a rhythm that matched the pounding of their hearts. Drew's hand slipped down to her thigh, his touch feather light as he moved it higher. She gasped into his mouth when his fingers reached the apex of her legs, finding her already wet and ready. He teased her gently, making her squirm with pleasure.

Her hips bucked against his hand as he touched her more insistently, her nails digging into his back. He could feel her body tightening, her muscles coiling like a spring ready to release. She whispered his name again, a plea that he understood all too well. He positioned himself between her legs, their gazes locked, and pushed into her with a slow, deliberate thrust that sent waves of pleasure crashing through her body.

Their movements grew more urgent, their breaths ragged and intermingling as they found a rhythm that seemed to echo the very beating of their hearts. Drew’s muscles flexed with each powerful stroke, his eyes never leaving hers as he claimed her over and over. She wrapped her legs around him, pulling him deeper, her heels digging into his lower back. The friction was exquisite, the sensation of him filling her completely driving her to the brink of ecstasy.

Her breath hitched in her throat as she felt the first tremors of her climax begin to build. "Drew," she gasped, her voice a desperate whimper. "I’m going to come." He groaned in response, his own release just within reach. He increased his pace, driving into her harder and faster, his thumb circling her clit in time with his thrusts. The pressure grew, a delicious ache that coiled tighter with each movement.

With a cry that was half moan, half scream, she shattered, her body arching off the bed as the most intense orgasm of her life ripped through her. Drew followed closely behind, his own release a hot wave that flooded her core. They clung to each other, their bodies trembling in the aftermath of their shared passion. For a moment, time itself seemed to stand still, the only sounds in the room their panting breaths and the beating of their hearts.

As the intensity of their climax subsided, she rolled them over so that she was on top, straddling his waist. She looked down at him with a mischievous smile, her eyes gleaming with unbridled lust. "Let me ride you," she said, her voice still thick with passion. Drew's eyes widened slightly, his cock already showing signs of renewed interest at the thought. He nodded eagerly, his hands moving to her hips to help position her.

With a graceful move, she lowered herself onto him, her slick heat enveloping his hardness. He groaned, his hands gripping her hips as she began to move, her movements slow and deliberate. She set the pace, rising and falling on him like a wave, her breasts bouncing with each downward stroke. Drew watched, his eyes glued to the erotic sight of her above him, her hair cascading down her back as she took charge of their lovemaking.

He could feel himself hardening again, his body responding to the delicious friction and the visual feast before him. "Ride me, baby," he encouraged, his voice a gruff whisper. She took his words as a challenge, picking up the pace and leaning forward to grind against him. The sensation was almost too much to handle; the angle was perfect, and every movement sent bolts of pleasure shooting through him.

Their bodies moved in perfect harmony, a dance of passion that neither of them wanted to end. She leaned down, capturing his mouth in a searing kiss as she rode him, their tongues dueling with the same fervor as their hips. Drew's hands roamed her back, his fingertips tracing the path of her spine as she moved. He could feel himself getting closer to the edge again, the pressure building in his lower abdomen.

"Like this?" Her breasts bobbed in his face, and he couldn't resist the temptation. He took one of her nipples into his mouth, sucking and nipping at it gently as he whispered "Just like that baby". She gasped, her movements faltering for a moment before she regained control, pushing down harder on him. The sensation was exquisite, and he knew she was feeling it too, her walls clenching around him with each thrust.

Their rhythm grew more erratic, their kisses more desperate. Drew's hands slid to her ass, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he met her hips with his own, pushing up into her as she came down. He could feel his orgasm building, the pressure reaching a crescendo. "I'm gonna come," he warned her, his voice strained. She responded by quickening her pace, her breaths coming in short, sharp gasps.

With one final, powerful thrust, Drew erupted, filling her with his warmth. She threw her head back and screamed his name, her own orgasm cresting over her like a tidal wave. They held onto each other, their bodies shaking, as the last tremors of pleasure subsided. They collapsed together, their limbs tangled and their hearts racing in time with each other's.

Their breaths grew steadier as the reality of what had just happened settled over them. They shared a smile, a silent acknowledgment of the connection that had just been forged between them. It was a moment of pure, unfiltered intimacy that neither of them would ever forget.

They lay there, basking in the afterglow of their lovemaking, their skin slick with sweat. Her head rested on his chest, and she could feel the steady thump of his heart beneath her ear. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close, and she felt a sense of belonging that she hadn't felt in a very long time.

For now, the world outside the room didn't matter. All that mattered was the warmth of his embrace, the sound of their mingled breaths, and the promise of more passionate moments to come. They had crossed a line tonight, but it was one that neither of them regretted. Instead, it was a line that had brought them closer together, forging a bond that was stronger than any they had ever known.

And as they lay there, entwined in each other's arms, they both knew that this was just the beginning of something beautiful. Something that had been a long time in the making and was now, finally, allowed to flourish without restraint. Their bodies were sated, but their minds were racing with the endless possibilities of what lay ahead.

Drew gently stroked her hair, feeling the softness against his fingertips. "That was amazing," he murmured, his voice filled with awe. She smiled against his chest, feeling his heartbeat slow to a more relaxed tempo. "It was," she agreed, her voice a contented purr.

They stayed like that for a while longer, their limbs tangled and their hearts still beating in a passion induced symphony. Eventually, she lifted her head to look at him, her eyes filled with a love that was new and exciting. "I've wanted this for so long," she admitted, her voice soft.

He leaned in to kiss her forehead, his eyes searching hers. "Me too," he confessed, his thumb caressing her cheek. "But it was worth the wait." She nodded, her eyes shining with happiness. They shared a tender kiss, one that spoke of the deep connection that had been forged between them.

The room was bathed in the soft glow of candlelight, casting flickering shadows across their naked forms. They were lost in their own little world, a sanctuary where only passion and love reigned supreme. And as they held each other close, they knew that no matter what challenges they faced, they would always have this moment.

Their bodies were still entwined, but their minds had already moved on to the next phase of exploration. They were eager to learn every inch of each other, to know what made the other gasp and moan with pleasure. Drew rolled them over so she was beneath him again, his cock already hardening with renewed desire.

He kissed her deeply, his hands roaming over her body, reacquainting themselves with her curves and valleys. She responded eagerly, her legs parting to welcome him back into her. He slid in easily, their bodies fitting together like two puzzle pieces that had been separated for far too long.

Their movements grew slower, more deliberate, as if they were savoring every moment of this newfound intimacy. They kissed and touched, exploring each other with a gentle reverence that spoke of a deep, abiding love. This was more than just sex; it was the culmination of a connection that had been growing between them for months.

As they made love again, their bodies moving in a silent symphony of passion, they both knew that nothing could ever be the same between them. They had crossed a line, and there was no going back. But in that moment, as they climbed the peaks of ecstasy together, they wouldn't have had it any other way. This was where they belonged, in each other's arms, sharing the most intimate and beautiful experience two people could share.

And as they lay there, basking in the warmth of their love, they promised each other that this was just the first of many such nights. They had a lifetime of passion to explore, and they were ready to embrace it all. They were ready to let go of the past and hold onto each other, come what may.

Their kiss grew more urgent as the room grew darker, the candles flickering out one by one. But the flame of their desire burned brightly, a beacon in the night that would never be extinguished. They had found something rare and precious, and they weren't about to let it go.

With each stroke, each caress, they sealed their fate together, binding their hearts and souls in a way that would last an eternity. And as they drifted off to sleep, tangled in the sheets and each other's embrace, they knew that they had discovered something that could never be taken away from them: a love that was truly unbreakable.

“Are you always this charming?” she teased between kisses, her voice breathy.

Drew smirked against her skin. “Only with you.”

The night stretched on, the boundaries between them blurring as they lost themselves in one another. Drew was equal parts tender and fervent, his touch both grounding and electrifying. For Y/N, it felt like stepping into a dream she never wanted to wake from, a perfect mix of passion and connection.

By the time the sun began to rise, they lay tangled together on her bed, Drew’s arm draped over her waist as he traced lazy patterns on her skin. “You realize this is probably going to make headlines, right?” Y/N murmured, her voice laced with both humor and contentment.

Drew chuckled, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Let them talk. I’m exactly where I want to be.”

And for the first time in a long time, so was she.

#drew starkey #drew x reader #drew starkey fanfiction #drew starkey smut #drew starkey x reader #drewstarkey #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey fluff #drew starkey fic

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kombuuuu · 2 years ago

Text

Saviour of Mine.

Miles Morales x Fem!Reader

“You want stitches, big boy.”

“You gonna' stay on top of me?”

“No, but I'll make it hurt real nice.”

warnings : a little jealousy, not enjoying the spiderciety, a tad angst, more medical stuff i don’t know shit abt, misunderstandings, creepy obsession by a teacher, it gets better at the end promise,

requested by @viozxe :3 my boy my love i love him (gatekept this image for like two weeks but i finally have somewhere to use it)

For a man so true to his word, Miles had a thing for flaking on you.

You hadn’t seen him in around six hours. The event he had fled from leaving you dressed in your nicest clothes, looking like a sweet mess surrounded by family members not your own. After the first forty or so minutes, you had politely excused yourself from his Mama Rio and Officer Jefferson — Who both insisted you refer to them by their first names — , and booked it out of there.

You'd assumed he'd ran off with his little spider-clique. Something you'd rather not join, considering your particular distain for the man in charge. Who so happened to have quite the distaste for you, also. Avoiding the mirage of spider people had been relatively easy thus far, with the multi-versal gaps and all. But when Gwen Stacy had started to come see Miles more often — You would have to either sit through the excruciating task of listening to them talk. Which involved a lot more intimate moments than you were comfortable with being witness too. Or leave whilst she was there, and presumably not talk to Miles for a few hours — or.. days. Depending on wether he ditched you for her or not.

Having your best friend, of which you had fallen infatuated too, try and get with another girl right on front of you, any time they were together? Not the most ideal of situations. So you went home.

—

You cradled the led pencil on your dominant hand, other tapping to the beat of the song playing through your headphones. Sweet R&B to soothe your woes, whilst you focused on the homework in front of you.

You grabbed the rubber, sighing in exasperation and starting to scrub at your page, getting a little too frustrated and tearing the flimsy paper in the process.

You stared at the tear for a moment before borderline yelling, a tearless sob escaping you before you dropped your head against your desk. Slumping down into a flopped position.

You had to complete this by Monday, you knew that. Mr. Warren was the nicest teacher at your school. He’d helped you when you parents couldn’t. Taken you in — you’d even told him about Miles. He didn’t seem to like him very much, said it was a shame they shared a first name. You thought it was a crazy coincidence.

You slowly slid off your chair, pushing it back on its wheels as you went until eventually you were rested lying on the ground, staring at the window of your room.

Golden light shone through your curtains in a bright calling, basically signalling your escape as it sung to you.

You stared for another solid minute before groaning, Mr. Warren could wait.

Avidly ignoring the ache in your chest at the thought of finding Miles with the current focus of his interest.

You crawled to your closet and reached for the handle, still on the floor — before remembering your Van Der Waals and just using the tip of your fingers to lazily pull it open.

You snorted at yourself, before shuffling through the box at the bottom of your closet and pulling out the sleek spider suit.

The next minute was spent trying to energetically shuffle on your suit, and get your adrenaline running. Which proved working when you were rather excited — or antsy — to swing your way around the city.

You closed your window behind you, crawling up your building and letting the cold air force you more awake.

You backed up, jumping a little hop as you did. Bouncing on your feet before you ran, leaping off your building in a refreshing spin.

An excited yelp left your mouth before you shot a web to the next building over, using the top of a bus on the bust Brooklyn streets to boost your momentum, gradually gaining speed as you swung through the city in a series of twists and flips. Graceful swinging amidst a series of fumbling and laughing to yourself, still somewhat new to the spider-person talents.

You pulled out your phone, the small thigh pocket you had specially designed for your suit making it easier to carry your essentials around when you were in no need for over coats.

You stuttered in your swings, a small squeak escaping you when you almost hit a bird, yelling out a “Sorry!” to the poor thing.

The thwip of your web attaching to a near tall building sent another rush through you, curving yourself between two structures and landing on top of a bell tower. The same one you and Miles had been visiting together for the past year. You tripped a little over your own feet before righting yourself, smiling under the mask.

You didn’t need those other spider people, didn’t need a “Community to fall back on.”—, as that Miguel had put it.

You had yourself, Miles, and a teacher that supported you. And that’s all you needed.

—

You dialled Miles’ number. The irony of your inner statement making you cringe a little. You inner voice convincing you that literally no one else can hear you be embarrassed. You were speaking in your head. Your other—, more combative, inner voice— saying otherwise.

You willed them both quiet as your phone rung.

Miles’ cute face being showing on the profile photo, you stared at it as you waited, foot tapping the cement bell tower.

His face was in your hands, and smiling that charming smile he always did. His cheeks were squished in your hold as you kissed his cheek, holding the camera.

It was a romantic photo, if not for the fact you were best friends. You found yourself getting jealous of your past self. Chastising her for not relishing in that moment further.

Your phone beeped twice, signalling the call ringing out. You stared at it curiously, Eyes of your mask tilting into confused slants.

“C’mon man, pick up.” You whispered to yourself, glaring at the device in your hands and trying again.

When he didn’t pick up then, either — you had started to get impatient. And ended up rolling your eyes at him.

Muttering curses along with phrases of envy under your breath.

You had nothing against Gwen, in all honestly, she was a perfect fit for him — charming and troubled just like he was. Able to bond over their shared issues and shared interest.

Like each other.

You scoffed and shoved your phone back into your pocket, before angrily shooting a web, and slinging away.

Going to a bodega you knew always cheered you up to get rid of the mood you had out yourself in.

—

You walked out of the bodega with your bag in hand, your other waving joyfully to the owner, Hoa, the sweet lady you had met three weeks after moving here. Who made the best Bánh Mi you could find. You pet her cat on the way out, the sweet Turkish Angora purring as she nosed along your hand.

Hoa yelled out for you to “Come back whenever, Spider. On the house, next time.”

“Never on the house, Hoa.”

Her annoyed grumbles fades the farther away you walked. Skipping a bit as you pulled out the food, crisp bread with all the fillings you loved making the first bite look heavenly. You had the urge right then to pull up your mask in front of every flashing camera just to taste that home made bread.

You sighed your compliments instead.

“She never misses.”

“Who never misses?”

You startled at the civilian that had approached you, his tall stature and spiky nature making him stand out so much you wonder how you hadn’t noticed him.

Maybe your spider senses were distracted with your food.

“Oh— uh..,” You sucked your teeth for a second, eyes darting curiously around, wondering why he wasn’t just like the other civilian. Taking photos and videos of you as you walked past — ever fascinated by the new “Hero” around. You would barely call yourself that, but it’s what the people deemed you.

“My.. Friend.”

The man bent down by the waist, hands behind his back as he started walking with you.

“Name’s Hobie. Guessin’ your ‘friend’ made tha’ sweet lookin’ sandwich, mm?”

“Mm.. She uh— Oh, I’m —!..” You paused, tripping over your feet and scuffing your shoes. You cringed under the mask, stuffing the food back into your bag.

“..Spiderwoman.. She makes good food. Yup.”

Hobie snorted at how quick you were about to reveal your identity to who you assumed to be some confident civilian.

You awkwardly walked with him, every now and again glancing longingly at your sub as he leisured in his pace. Taking his sweet time walking who knows where whilst you begrudgingly accompanied the stranger — or not stranger. Acquaintance.

“Ya’ real confident for a Spidey.” Hobies’ sarcastic voice drawled, sniffing and scrunching his eyebrows before his face relaxed into a teasing smile again.

You side glanced him, otherwise focused on trying to leave the conversation. “Well considering there’s only three — two, of us.” You giggled nervously, bouncing on the balls of your feet. “Rest in peace, Spidey-1.” You — somewhat — joked.

Hobie let out a snort and choked on his breath, laughing at your awkward nature.

No wonder Miguel hadn’t let anyone even mention your lack of inclusion to the Spider-force.

Not after the first day of trying to convince you, anyhow.

It would have been utterly humiliating to be bested by someone who couldn’t hold a conversation for the life of her.

Hobie had a lot of respect for you, right off the bat. He knew the moment that Miguel (and Jess) had come back from Miles’ universe — pissed off and *alone — that you hadn’t been persuaded. And considering Jess and Miguel had a rather unique skill with their convincing, feeding off vulnerabilities in younger Spider-people to be the lack of parental figure in their lives, or elder — to have relatability in their pains. It wasn’t technically ill intended, but Hobie thinks it’s more than a little manipulative.

So to have you — someone he’s seen is vulnerable, hurting, easy; not fall victim to the duos tactics, and actively *berate them for it.

He was well awed.

And his brotherly instincts kicked in terribly fast. He thinks he sees a lot of himself in you. Awkward and growing into yourself, struggling against the high standards you were held to as a spider. And fighting from that box people tried to put you in.

So yeah, well awed would be an understatement. Proud would be a criminal understatement.

So when he had been looking for Gwen, trying to show her some stupid thing Pavitr had sent him just to show her — and realised she was gone. He checked his watch, lo and behold, she was in your universe.

Meaning she was with Miles, who rather actively tried to steer you away from his spider drama. Right now, though? He was distracted.

And what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

He walked with you for a while longer, letting you both get comfortable in the silence of a stranger.

“This ain’t weird f’ you, mate?”

You had both ended up at some alleyway, filled with stalls of food and bustling people pausing in their tracks to stare at the oddly placed pair of Hero and “Random Punk?”

“Not quite. I’ve had weirder interaction with weirder guys.”

He nodded in acknowledgment.

“Yeah, Guess ‘m not as weird as some villains.” The brit droned, dropping down to your height and eyeing the stalls as you passed, pocketing some things from stores he knew as bigger organisations.

“I was talking about regular people, but yeah those too.”

He laughed, grinning at your dry humour and nodded again, leaning into your view and smirking at your adjusting lenses.

You reached the stall you were looking for, the girl greeting you with a smiling “Hi, Spidergirl!”

Your eyes shrunk, “Spiderwoman, Spiderlady, Spider — and you chose the most demeaning.”

“Well, you are built rather girl like, young and spry and — oh, is that Hoa’s Bahn Mi?”

You nodded enthusiastically at Avanti, dropping your hand into the bag and pulling out a cookie you’d saved for her.

Hobie watched the interaction from stood behind you. Slipping in a “You had a spare cookie this entire time?”

You snorted and Avanti handed you a peach ice tea and a couple of her home-made desserts in a Spider-man themed lunch box. A note reading “Got this just for you — brin bring it back!!” placed on top, you glanced up, putting the lunch box in your bag as you did so and thanked her before you and Hobie were off again. “Seriously, the whole walk. No cookie.”

You laughed at his pouting tone, “I’ll get you one, next time, big man.”

He draped his arm over your shoulder, leaning some weight on you and started talking about random things he could think about during the trip back to your apartment.

You’d grown to enjoy his company, the older man — and his lack of filter — being oddly entertaining. You quipped, and he quipped back. Not enough for you to really trust him seeing your apartment, but enough that you set the boundary on your block.

“Hey Hobes, this has been a really good talk—,”

“Gotta ge’ back to ya’ Spiderin’, aye?”

You smiled up at him, lenses sliding into a pleased expression. “Yeah, real difficult stuff y’know? Saving the city and all that.”

He nodded along with you, right as his funky watch (that did not at all match his outfit, but looked to be bedazzled with a series of metal spikes) beeped. He brought his arm up and checked the small screen, face morphing into one of annoyance. “Aye’. Right timin’ mate, cause I just got a call from HQ.”

“Ahh.. Big cooperation?”

“Not in a million years, brutha’. More like a socie’y.”

He looked up at you and grinned. “Miguel really don’t like when I flake out on ‘im.”

You paused a second while Hobie fiddled with his watch, reaching into his back pocket while checking for anyone around. When he found no one, he slipped out his spiked mask and slid it on.

You stared, dumbfounded.

He clapped your shoulder again, scoffing amused at your wide-eyed expression.

“Was this —“

“A ploy f’ you ta’ join the Spider socie’y? Not a’ all, mate.” He sniffed, itching his head through his mask and squeezing your shoulder.

“I right respect ya’ f’ not joinin’. Wish I woulda’ had ya’ will at my age.”

“Oh… Thanks…��

He nodded at you, Lenses squinting.

“Yeah but, I gotta dip, Gwen’s not distractin’ Miguel with sneakin’ off no more. He pro’bly realised I was gone too.”

“Yuh huh…”

“Bye, [Name].”

You blanched one last time before he shot a web onto your neighbouring apartment building, opened a portal mid-air, and flung himself through.

“What the fuck..” You whispered to yourself, perplexed at the interaction that had just occurred.

“What the hell.”

—

It was two hours later, when you were full of Bahn Mi, Pastries and Ice Tea, rethinking everything he’d said; when his last words caught up to you.

Gwen’s out of this universe. Not in the figurative sense — Although she is everything everyone wants to be, but you’re gonna ignore that — So where the hell was Miles?

It was late now, Moon shining a casted light through your living room drapes just as the Sun had onto your bed hours prior.

You gradually dragged yourself from your couch, reaching over your coffee table with great effort to reach your charging phone.

You huffed, giving up and snatching your web slinger from the floor by your feet and shot a web to grab your phone, tugging it off the charger. The thicker part yanked out the wall instead, landing hard on your torso with a dull thump. You scrunched your face up and grumbled, cursing at the thing while you pull your phone off the now useless charger and throw it on the floor.

“Fuckin’ asshole…”

You flipped your phone, eyes widening when your lock screen lit up with a series of notifications. All getting progressively worse. Your spider-senses growing in alert.

miles (o O) 7:42 PM

haiiii

gwen left

u should’ve hung w us

haha

get it \(^ W ^ )\

hung

cause spider

i’m comigg to home now

yoii r home

soffy swinginf

waiiiiiiiiiixixiiixkm jjj fd

bab guy ine secon

The messages abruptly stopped, being replaced entirely by a series of calls. Some left voice messages, some not.

You clicked on a recorded voice message.

(miles (o O) Left a Message at 7:46 PM.)

“Hey, [Name]!” Miles’ cheery voice rang out through the speakers, bringing a lovesick smile to your face despite the off feeling you had in your chest.

“Just gonna — Oof, hey man! Not cool. — Gonna take care of this guy before—,” A pause and a grunt. “,—Before I come home to you, yeah? Pick up soon I wanna know what you’re doin’.” A begrudged shout sounded far from the speaker. “Are you on call right now?”

“It’s important!”

“We’re fighting!”

“I have a life loser—“ Three harsh beeps rung out, signalling the end of the voicemail.

You clicked on a few more, just quick tidbits of him complaining you not picking up, and fighting an unknown villain. Also complaining how he missed you and “This guys is not goin’ down!” He shouted louder; “C’mon man! I have somewhere to be!” “Suck my dick Spiderman!” “Woah—! Well don’t get angry now, asshole!”

“Hypocrite!”

“Am not!”

“Are too—“ Three beeps.

You clicked again.

“[Name], Please pick up! This guy can— Fuck! — You dickhead!” A beat played and a cough was heard. Your frown deepened.

“I’m at the—“ Cut off.

You checked for another voicemail, one continue the one left off. A worried scrunch in your nose. There wasn’t one.

Right as you were going to call him back, his profile photo popped up again, you pressed answer with a lip between your teeth.

“Miles?” laboured breathing came through the speakers, wet gasps and sniffled coughs every now and again. He was silent for a full minute before answering you.

“Hey, [Name]..” His voice was gravelling and deep, sandpaper against softened lips.

He sounded tired, and your heart rate picked up in fear, almost like he could hear it. “Fuck..,” He whispered into the phone, groaning. Holding the phone loosely on his end, as apposed to the anxious grip you had on on yours.

“I’m.. Stuck in some construction site.” He gasped. “Miles what the hell—!”

“Mi Vida, please. The guys not—“ A loud crash made the speaker in your phone crackle. A whispered “Shit.”, before he hung up.

You wanted to call back, but from his whispering, and panicked tone, you could only guess he was trying to hide.

Whoever this villain was, they weren’t giving up.

—

You followed his tracker, the location he was pinged at getting closer by the second. You breathed hard against the force of wind, dropping down into a run on where the location was set to be.

“Fuck, fuck— Miles where are you?..”

Your footsteps were light, crouching under concrete slabs and tip toeing around loose gravel. Red light was cast along unfinished floors and crumbling walls. Shadows reaching towards you from the corners of your eyes. Your spider senses were on high alert, at a constant buzz. They suddenly upt in pitch and you flinched around, almost screaming at the hand covering your mouth. Pressed harsh against your face, and another around the back of your head so you couldn’t escape. Your hands gripped the wrists of the stranger before you heard an incessant shushing.

“Conejita, quiet.”

You relaxed instantly, the eyes of your mask downturned in fearful stress.

His hands were shaking against your head, figure hunched and body scratched up. The tears in his suit spanning across his right shoulder and chest. He slowly removed his hands, bringing a lone finger to where his lips would be in his mask in a ‘hush hush’ manner.

Coming in closer to you, leaning down to where your ear would be and whispering “He’s still here.”

You grabbed his forearms, leading him deeper into the site, away from the reddened lights and into the creeping shadows.

He breathed heavy behind you, throat wet with his own blood, he grunted and tried to help you in walking with him, good arm thrown over your shoulder as you dragged him. “C’mon, just a little farther.”

“What’re you…” He cut himself off, heaving. You set him down in the quiet corner, tucked behind two large concrete sheets and some large bent up pipes.

“Just—, sit here Miles, okay?” You brought his head up to yours, still talking in a quietened voice. Hands on his face and crouched in front of his slumping form.

“I’ll be right back, don’t move.”

You stood from crouching, hands slipping off his face while he dragged forward to stay in your grasp — mumbling something like a plea for you to stay.

You turned from him, dashing away in silent movements, slinging yourself up onto high ground and turning back to make sure he wasn’t visible unless you truly looked — he wasn’t.

You lept off, disappearing from his sight with a yank against your webs.

He mumbled, shifting closer in your direction as the exhaustion hit him. Huffing, he leant back. Letting his head hit the wall and focus on keeping his eyes open.

"Quédate despierto.. No te muevas..."

“Stay awake.. Don’t move…”

He heaved again, the heaviness in his chest deepening.

“Stay…” He closed his eyes — for just a second, just for the relief — Dragging his hand up to rip the mask off of him, and forcing himself to open them again, to watch the Moon.

“Awake.”

—

You creep around corners, listening in and honing your senses to a point. For anything, a trip, a movement. A breath.

You whipped your head to the left, following the sound of light breathing.

“Come out little bunny.”

You tensed, he’d heard you.

“Ah, don’t worry, honey—,” You heard him creep forward, closer to you. He didn’t know where you were, obvious by the hesitance in his steps, but he had the right direction. You can move now, he would hear. And with how he’d heard Miles’ mere whisper before, you suggest maybe he had an ability similar to your own. “,Not him I want, anyways.”

That made your shoulders loosen a little, but you never rested. Who knows whether he was lying or not.

You shot a web, hitting the pipe of your aim and jumping from one to another, using your webs to steady yourself. You heard him huff a laugh.

“I heard that.”

Your eyes slanted, crouching into a spidered position. You crawled, using the stick of your fingers to steady across the pipe, sticking to it and trying to find the mystery man in the sea of red the warning lights casted.

Your spidey-senses went haywire and you jumped from the pipe in less than a second. Right as you did, a bang went off and you stumbled forward, landing in rubble and groaning. Rolling before you steadied yourself and jumped up. No rest until your opponent is resting in Death.

You finally saw him. What looked to be some guy in a green fuzzy suit.

“My girl..”

“Wha— *Are you a furry?”

He groaned, and charged for you, right hand outstretched and left in a clenched fist. He swung for your head, twisting his body as he did. You shot a web on his abdomen, pulling him towards you and jumping to slip under his arm, using his prior speed to throw him into a block of concrete, just missing a pole from stabbing him through the chest. He glanced at for a moment and grabbed his head — which had taken quite the hit.

“Seriously what type of Grinch cosplay is this?”

He growled again, like a man with rabies.

“C’mon dollface, don’t fight me here.”

“You hit first, asshole — Also what the fuck, i’m not your ‘doll’.” He shot for you again, throwing a bomb behind you to throw your body forward, you tried to grapple for stability, webbing to anything in reach. But he gripped your waist and held you against him.

“[Name]…”

You froze, body wanting to gag and shed your own skin at the same time.

You swung for his jaw, knocking him clean off you with a disgusted hand.

“Who the fuck are you!?”

He held his jaw and you stumbled farther from him. Hands held beside you, ready to attack if needed.

He grinned at you, blood seeping onto the green fur of his face, you felt sick.

“Oh, come on, babyface.” His jenky voice was digging into your skin, peeling it up and stabbing into your muscle. Twitching into your flesh and making your body hurt, making you hurt.

You ripped your mask up and hurled, spitting nothing but bile onto the ground below you, the burn of stomach acid sitting heavy in your throat and you felt like crying. Your breath heavy and gasps painful.

“What the fuck.”

—

You smiled at your professor. Waving back at him from the other side of the lecture hall. Miles come up behind you and hooked his arm around your shoulder, swaying against you as he chatted with you about anything that had happened in the time he hadn’t seen you. You snorted, chatting back — Forgetting completely about the other Miles.

You dropped your shoulder and your Miles stumbled, grumbling up at you before you gripped his forearm and dragged him to sit with you at the back of the hall. His mood changing in an instant as he followed along like a lost puppy, gawking at you with a dopey smile plastered across his face. His canines exposed, charming and boyish. How he always is. You sat him down, and sat next to you, and he dragged your chair a little closer, grabbing you leg and placing it over his.

He started laughing again at the eye roll you gave him, and you cracked — smiling and giggling with him.

What you hadn’t seen, was the glare settled on the two of you. The way Warrens previous smile had dropped into a snarling frown, hands gripping the pencil he had been holding in a death grip. He jumped at the sound of a crack, the pencil had snapped in his hands and he got even more pissed, about to scream at the *other Miles to get away from you. To get his hand off you.

That kid didn’t deserve you like he did.

You loved him like he loved you, he knew it.

You had too.

He watched you laugh and his heart fluttered, angry at who you were laughing for but still — you were so pretty.

You wouldn’t be laughing like that if he wasn’t here. You loved him.

—

“Mr. Warren?”

“How many times have I told you to call me Miles?” He slipped out of his own head, breaking from the stare he had on you.

You laughed sweetly, eyes shining. “How many times have I told you I already *have a Miles?”

He watched your smirk as you quipped back at him, a jealousy brimming in his chest. He chuckled, a heartless sound to no one but himself.

“Ahh, How many times am I going to forget?” He tapped his pencil on his desk and tried to focus on you instead. He watched you go back to your work, so intelligent, mature.

You shaded in the answer on the sleek sheet. You were right, of course.

A hair fell from behind your ears and he wanted to tuck it back, wanted to give you straight A’s for nothing despite knowing you would get them anyways.

You threaded you hand through your hair and if he wasn’t focused on how beautiful you were — maybe he’d be disappointed it wasn’t his own.

He watched you, forgetting the papers he was grading — he was focused on something else, now.

—

He was standing when you turned back. Hunching over his injuries and staggering towards you.

“Mr. Warren?”

“Yes, my dear.”

You gagged again, and he looked sad at the act.

“Please, baby—“ He stretched out his right hand, pleading with you.

“,—I know you love me too. I know that fucking Spider is taking you from me.”

He stepped closer.

“I know it.”

You stumbled back farther, wiping the spit from you lips and pulling your mask down, you went to shoot a web, to get away. But he was on you before you could, the hand not outstretched revealing a cloth covering his palm. Sodden and dripping a clear liquid.

He gripped your suit and dragged you forward, shoving the cloth closer to your face.

“Stop fucking resisting.”

“Get off!”

You gripped his forearm and bent it back, far enough you heard a snap. He yelped out. The sweet smelling cloth dropped from his hand and his other lost grip on your shirt. Taking the opportunity you dropped down, crouching on one leg and using the other to swipe the things legs from under him.

You watched him fall and grabbed the cloth. Hearing his pained groans as he tried to scramble up again.

You kicked a leg over him, straddling his chest and bringing your free hand back — swinging down on him with anguished cries.

He tried to raise his hands, you pinned them down in his own chloroform ridden cloth. He called your name, endearments that made you skin crawl. Tried kicking you off as his body grew weaker. Pleading with you, using his remaining strength to yank at his own arms.

He wrestled against your hits, face bloodied and nose broken. You hit again, watching his disgusting face whip to the side, blood leaking from his mouth as a tooth went flying.

Tears breached the edge of your eyes, frustration of every kind tearing your skin anew, your knuckles pouring the hurt you felt. Blood mixing in a sickening spill of feelings, an obsessive love — something cruel and harsh. And the injuries you’d sustained from it, equally as such cruel.

You’d spent *months trying for a man in love with someone else. And this man you had confided in, who had been a mentor in your trivialities — had taken advantage of that, of you.

He disgusted you.

You kept swinging.

—

Miles jerked awake, gripping the hands that were on his shoulders in an instant, the figure flinching back at his strength.

“Miles! Just me—,” He opened his eyes further, pain ringing through his body as he loosened in your hold.

“Just you.”

He took your appearance in, the blood coating your suit, that hadn’t seemed to be your own. The thick liquid shining on your hands and forearms, crudely splashed onto your mask — like something out of a horror film.

He reached up slowly, pulling off you mask with great effort. His own sitting next to him. You were on your knees before him, bathing in red so deep it could have been mistaken for black against the reddened light. He groaned when you touched his chest, coughing a little at the pain.

“Sorry! Sorry — I’m so sorry.” You quickly retracted your hand and gasped. Apologising through near tears. He wet his lips, watching your tear lined eyes in worry.

“Hey— Conejita, what— what happened?”

Letting his hands rest on your cheeks, carbon fibre wiping at soft skin.

You sobbed, gripping his wrists and moving his weak hands closer to you. His brows furrowed further.

“I don’t — I don’t know, he —,”

You breathed fast against his palms, crying to him. Miles straightened himself up, ignoring the pains shooting up his body and trying to comfort you, shushing your cries and cradling your face.

“Mr. Warren he was —“

Miles’ eyes widened, finally letting the familiarity in his voice click. That was who it was, who was so mad at him, disgusted by the Spider.

Miles shuddered, thinking back to the off feeling he’d always had around the older man.

How he was always around you.

“What did he do.”

His eyes darkened and you cried harder, Miles had completely forgotten about his wounds, shifting to get up and find the fucking bastard.

You gripped him tighter, “Miles. He’s not —,”

“Where is he.”

“Dead.”

His breath escaped him, the blood made sense now. He got closer to you and slid his hand around your head, pushing your face into his good shoulder.

You cried again, shaking form cradled against his own weakened body.

“Shh, Mami. It’s okay. You’re okay.”

“We’re alright, I promise.”

He hugged you closer, pressing a haste kiss to your forehead.

“You’re safe.”

—

You helped him home, having to hold him up and swing at the same time, which wasn’t much as a hassle as you thought it would be.

You both sat on your couch, him lying down with you sitting on his thighs.

He watched you work, suit and mask discarded somewhere in your living room and clad only in a pair of loose joggers you had found for him.

Your face was pinched into a frown, eyes still puffed from crying and a brows scrunched unpleasantly.

“Stop moving.”

“I’m not.” He threw his head back, rolling his eyes at your complaining.

“See? Moving.” You poked his chest and he winced.

“Okay! Okay— Damn, chica.”

You smiled at his tone, a small, timid thing. And he pushed down the fluttering in his stomach.

“You’re lucky you don’t need stitches.”

“Lucky? Havin’ you here longer would make me lucky.”

You grumbled, pouting at him angrily. “You want stitches, big boy?”

“You gonna stay on top of me?”

“No, but i’ll make it hurt real nice.”

He snorted, shifting to look at you better.

“Then, nah.”

You kept at your work, patting him with antiseptics and making him hold an ice pack across the forming bruises.

And he admired you, the streaks of light from the window falling against your face. A city ridden with crime making you so, so pretty.

“Why’d you come for me?”

You gave him a curious look but continued to patch him up. “What do you mean? Why wouldn’t I?”

He sniffled, averting his gaze. “I dunno I just— didn’t expect you to show up.”

You shook your head a little, understanding his fears.

“I’d always show for you, Miles.”

He hummed, flustered at the thought.

You moved up to his face, gently patting away blood with a warm hand towel, your other hand holding his face towards you. Fingertips brushing his cheeks in a hold so caring he might’ve fainted if it wasn’t you holding him. He’d stay awake for you this time. He’d protect you this time.

“I love you.”

You froze, towel stuck in the air and your eyes locked onto his.

Miles held his breath, waiting for your reply as he watched you clock the words.

His nerves got to him quick, spouting out whatever he could in your silence.

"Estaba hablando con Gwen y me ayudó a darme cuenta, ¿sabes? No paraba de decir que estaba enfermo de amor, yo no lo entendía y pensé que quizás debería..."

“I was just talking with Gwen and she helped me realise, you know? Kept saying I was lovesick and I didnt get it and I just thought maybe I should—“

“I love you too.”

He snapped his gaze back to you. Hope colouring his eyes a sparkling gold.

“You do?” He whispered, an intimacy running through his bloodstream. Heart pumping too fast in haste of the pure admiration he held for you.

You nodded, and your hands splayed out further, cradling the edge of his lips.

“I do.”

He tried to sit up, abs clenching under effort to get closer to you, you let him drag you forward. He ditched the ice pack and settled his hands on the crest of your thighs, rubbing his thumb over your hips.

“Say it again?”

He whined, begging you. He wanted, needed to hear you say it again.

“I love you.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, forehead pressing against your own. You followed.

The things he felt for you were too much, too much. His chest was heaving again, but not from pain. This was love he hadn’t experienced before, this was anything but painful.

"Dios, también te amo."

“God, I love you too.”

Your hands slipped from his lips to the back of his neck, scratching gently along his nape and he shivered.

“Let me kiss you? Please?”

He whispered again, voice cracking. Chapped lips brushing against your own softer ones in a featherlight touch. He was holding off, not letting himself the pleasure without you wanting him back — he wanted to know you wanted him back.

“Please.” You were sure, certain — and it was all he needed.

He kissed you sweetly, letting himself indulge in you without restraint.

He hadn’t known what he’d been missing out on — but now he does. Know he knows. And god, if he hadn’t felt more full in his entire life.

Everything had been bland compared to you, had been bitter and dull against the sweetness of your lips. Smooth against rough skin and he’d never felt something so soft before. His hands gripped you harder for just a moment and you pulled back merely an inch to catch your breath. He opened his eyes and watched your lips sparkle in the same light he’d admired minutes before.

“I love you too.”

You smiled at him and he pulled you ever closer. “I know, Miles.”

—

“I fuckin’ told ya’, mate.”

“Wh— I never said otherwise!”

“Yeah but ya’ neva’ agreed either, aye?”

“I never disagreed.”

“Pff, whateva.”

Gwen rolled her eyes, scoffing at the brit next to her with a smile on her face.

They watched you both as Miles nervously introduced you to Peter. A sort of Spider-convention was set up. And the invite was — begrudgingly — extended to you.

“They’re cute, though.”

“Bloody oath.”

You offered the older man with a warmed gaze, turning to the kid in his arms and cooing. He smiled at you, being one of your favourite spiders had its perks.

He was one of the only ones who never tried to make you join the society, so he got a pass from you.

Miles held your hand and smiled, chatting with Peter excitedly once he realised the lack of tension.

“Do you want to hold her?”

“Do I—,” You looked up at him hopefully. “Yes! Uh— Yeah. Yes please.”

You dropped Miles’ hand and he pouted, watching you take the baby from Peters arms, the early father fretting as you waved him off, insuring him you knew how to care for a child.

Peter relaxed and stood next to Miles as you rocked his baby gently. A rather fond feeling overtaking them both — leading Peter to take a photo of you with his kid, and Miles to shyly ask him to send it to him.

The look of you with a kid? It was way too early in life for baby fever.

He huffed when he heard people making kissy noises behind him. You too preoccupied with entertaining the kid to realise it.

He turned to the trio of teens behind him and flipped them off. Pavitr gasped offendedly at him and Hobie and Gwen laughed, causing Miles to roll his eyes and snort.

“Assholes.”

You gently passed MayDay back to Peter and gave a quick kiss to her head. Peter going off to get her a bottle.

Miles came up next to you and you smiled at him, watching the skyline from the buildings rooftop.

“[Name].”

You huffed and rolled your eyes at the voice behind you.

Way to ruin a moment.

“Miguel.”

You turned to him, Miles cringing quickly as he turned with you.

“Hey— Miguel! Crazy seein’ you here, haha! Insane.” Miles nervously laughed, his voice deepening on the last word and you coughed a laugh, agreeing with him.

“Uhuh, crazy.” A sly smile adorned your features and you grabbed his hand again, interlocking your fingers in a foxy movement.

“You weren’t invited.”

“Huh? Of course I wasn’t!—“ Your smirk grew bigger. “—I’m a plus one.”

He glared down at you and it only felt all the more justifiable, he opened his mouth to talk before Peter was dancing over with MayDay held out.

“Here take this, thanks!”

He quickly handed her off to Miguel and spun him around by his shoulders, continuing to walk with him in the other direction. “She needs a sleep. Rock her to sleep.”

“Wh—“

“Rock her.”

—

Miles gripped your hips, swaying gently with you to the soft music playing in your kitchen. Your Ma had left two weeks prior for a month long work trip, and he couldn’t stay away. The domesticity he had built with you reaching an all time high as he watched you cook.

He rested his head on your shoulder and you both continued to sway a little. Moving his hands past your hips to lean his hands on the bench you cut your food on, caging you in slightly. You hummed, reaching for a tomato and placing it on the board.

“I love you.”

You giggled — a sweet, girlish thing.

“Love you too, baby.”

“Love you more.” He smiled against your shoulder.

“Pfft, yeah okay, big boy.”

You rolled your eyes and laughed, and his heart fluttered again.

—

GOD DAMN AS ALWAYS WAY OFF THE RAILS

lovely translator @sataraxia

(literally my bf the delusions are getting worse he’s my bf guys!!! ⬇️)

#across the spiderverse #miles morales #spiderman across the spiderverse #miles morales x reader #spiderverse x reader #miles x reader #miles my beloved #miles morales x you #atsv miles #miles 1610 #miles x y/n #miles x you #miles morales x y/n

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yooongerine · 2 months ago

Text

SAN WHEN HIS SON HEALS HIM

The day begins like any other, but when you try to help your son with his homework, he becomes frustrated and screams at you, "Leave me alone!" You take a step back, startled, but before you can process it, your son raises his hand and hits you.

Before you can react, San walks in, having heard the commotion. His usual calm and collected demeanor is completely gone, replaced by an intense, almost frightening presence. His voice, usually warm and comforting, now carries a cold, stern edge.

"That’s it," San growls, his eyes narrowing as he steps toward your son. "You do *not* treat your mother like that." His words are quiet but powerful, leaving no room for defiance. "I don’t care how angry you are, you will never hit her again. Ever."

Your son freezes, the weight of San's anger sinking in. The room feels suddenly tense, every second dragging as your son stares at his father, unsure of what will come next. You move to intervene, but San raises his hand slightly, signaling you to hold back.

"San, please," you say, trying to keep the situation from escalating further. "Calm down. Let’s just talk—"

But San’s anger has taken over. His voice is harsh, and his eyes are dark with frustration. "No," he snaps, his tone sharper than you’ve ever heard. "He’s crossed a line, and I will not let it slide. He cannot treat you like this."

The fear in your son’s eyes is evident as he starts to cry, overwhelmed by the intensity in the room. San’s posture softens just a little, but his words are still firm. "Go to your room and think about what you did. We will talk later."

Your son, shaking with fear, runs to his room, leaving you and San standing there in the tense silence.

You rush to your son’s room, pulling him into a tight hug, murmuring that everything will be okay. You reassure him that it’s okay to feel angry, but it's never okay to hurt others, and you promise to help him work through his emotions.

San eventually walks into the room, his expression quieter now, though the anger is still present. He looks at you first, his gaze softening. "I’m sorry for scaring you both," he admits. "I just... I couldn’t let him disrespect you like that."

You nod, your heart still heavy with the weight of the moment. "I know you were just trying to protect me, San. But we need to find a way to help him without scaring him."

San kneels next to your son, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I’m sorry, son," he says, his voice much softer now, but still serious. "You should never hit anyone, especially not your mom. I know you’re upset, but there are other ways to deal with your feelings."

Your son wipes his tears, still looking up at San with wide eyes. "I’m sorry, Mom," he whispers.

San pulls him into a hug, his demeanor now calm, but firm. "We’ll work through this. We’re a family. But you need to learn that respect goes both ways."

The tension in the room dissipates as your son nods, taking in his father’s words, and the three of you begin the process of healing together.

The next day, you’re once again trying to help your son, but the moment you approach him, he screams and hits you for a second time. The sting of his words cuts deeper this time, and your heart aches as you try to process his anger.

Before you can react, San appears in the doorway, his expression hardening instantly. His eyes darken with a fierce, almost terrifying intensity. He steps forward, his jaw clenched tightly.

"You *did* not just hit her again," San growls, his voice dangerous and filled with fury. His entire presence is imposing, and the atmosphere in the room shifts in an instant.

"San, please," you try, stepping in front of your son, trying to calm him. "Don’t—"

San cuts you off, his voice low and menacing. "No," he snaps, his tone more frightening than you’ve ever heard. "This is too far. I will not let my son treat you like this again. You don’t get to hit her, not today, not ever."

Your son, wide-eyed and trembling, takes a step back, his fear mounting. He starts crying, completely overwhelmed by the confrontation. His small body trembles as he stares at his father, unsure of how to react to the anger that’s radiating off him.

"San, stop," you plead again, trying to defuse the situation, but San doesn’t seem to hear you. His eyes are locked on your son, his voice low but cutting. "You need to apologize to your mother. Right now."

Your son, terrified by his father’s anger, continues to cry, and his apology comes out in a choked sob. "I’m sorry, Mom... I didn’t mean it..."

San doesn’t soften, his frustration still evident, and without a word, he storms out of the room, slamming the door behind him. You hurry to your son, pulling him into your arms as he continues to cry, his fear palpable.

"It’s okay," you whisper, stroking his back. "Dad was just angry. He didn’t mean to scare you. But hitting is never okay, no matter what. We can work through this."

You stay with him until he calms down, reassuring him that it’s important to express emotions, but to do so in a respectful way.

A few minutes later, San returns, his posture more relaxed, though there’s still a hint of frustration in his eyes. He kneels down beside your son and places a gentle hand on his shoulder. "I’m sorry for how I reacted," he says, his voice softer now, but with the same serious undertone. "I shouldn’t have scared you. But you need to understand that disrespecting your mom is not something I can ignore."

Your son, wiping his tears, looks up at San, his voice still shaky. "I’m really sorry, Dad... I won’t do it again."

San nods, his voice more soothing now. "I know you’re upset, but there are better ways to deal with that. We’ll work on it together, okay?"

Your son nods quietly, and San pulls him into a hug, his embrace protective but gentle. "I love you, son. We’ll figure this out, but respect and understanding are the foundations of everything in this family."

The tension in the room eases as you comfort your son, knowing that though San’s anger was frightening, his love and care for your family are unwavering.

That night, after everything has calmed down, you and San sit together on the couch, the weight of the day still lingering in the air. San’s usual stoic demeanor is gone, replaced by something softer, more vulnerable. He’s sitting beside you, his head bowed, eyes a little red from earlier.

Suddenly, you feel a gentle shift as San leans into you, his voice barely above a whisper. "I’m sorry," he starts, his words strained with emotion. "I was just so hurt. I can’t stand to see my son treat the most important woman in my life like that. It’s... it’s something I just can’t ignore. I just... I don’t know how to deal with it." His voice cracks, and you can see the guilt in his eyes as he continues. "I’m sorry for what I did, for scaring you... I know I have anger issues. I should’ve handled it better. I should’ve raised him better."

His words tumble out in a rush, like a dam breaking, and he begins to cry softly, his shoulders shaking under the weight of the guilt and frustration he feels. You’re taken aback by the raw vulnerability in his voice, seeing him so broken, so unlike the strong man you’ve always known.

Without saying anything, you pull him close, wrapping your arms around him tightly. You hold him as he cries, your hands gently stroking his hair, offering him the comfort he so clearly needs. You let him let it all out, not rushing to fix things but simply being there with him, sharing the weight of his pain.

"San," you whisper softly, your voice soothing. "You’re the best husband and father anyone could have asked for. You love us both so much, and that’s what matters. I’m proud of you for raising him this way, for being firm, for showing him what respect means. You’re doing so much right, even when you don’t see it. And I’m sorry too... I know I was too soft today. But I’m glad you were firm, it was necessary. You don’t have anger issues, you’re just passionate about protecting us. You’re not perfect, but neither am I. We’re a team, and we’ll get through this together."

San’s sobs slowly subside as you continue to hold him, your words sinking in. His breathing steadies, and after a moment, he pulls away slightly, looking up at you with red-rimmed eyes. "I just... I don’t want to mess this up. I want to be the best for you and for him."

You smile softly, brushing a tear from his cheek. "You already are," you say, your voice full of warmth. "You’re my everything, San. I love that you look so tough on the outside, but you’re really just a teddy bear underneath." You can see the corner of his lips twitch, a small pout forming before he can’t help but laugh softly.

San gives you a playful nudge, his pout turning into a half-smile as he pulls you close again. "You’re lucky I love you, even when you tease me like that."

You chuckle softly, resting your head on his shoulder. The comfort of his presence fills the room, and for a moment, everything feels right again. "I’m just being honest. You’re perfect in your own way, San."

The two of you sit in the quiet, the weight of the day easing away. It’s raw, emotional, and vulnerable, but it’s also filled with love and understanding. You know this phase will pass, just like every other challenge you've faced together. But for now, you’re here, together, holding on to each other as you always do.

And as you hold him, you realize that this is the kind of love that lasts — imperfect, messy, and real.

The next morning, San wakes up with a heavy heart, knowing he needs to make things right with his son. He can’t shake the image of your son’s terrified face from yesterday, and as much as he wants to fix everything, he knows it’s going to take time. He stands in the doorway of his son’s room, his hands trembling slightly as he looks at him, still curled up in bed, avoiding his gaze.

"Hey, buddy," San says gently, stepping into the room, his voice low and warm. "Can I talk to you for a second?"

Your son doesn’t respond, his back still turned to San. He’s been quiet ever since yesterday, his mood heavy with the weight of the confrontation. San takes a slow breath, trying to steady himself. He knows this will be difficult, but he’s determined to make things right.

As San approaches, he opens his arms, a silent gesture of reassurance. But the moment your son looks at him, there’s hesitation in his eyes. Then, to San’s horror, your son flinches and pulls back, his small body recoiling in fear.

San’s heart shatters into a million pieces. The sight of his son, the boy he’s always tried so hard to protect and guide, pulling away from him, is a pain that cuts deeper than any anger. His throat tightens, and the words come out in a choked whisper.

"I... I didn’t mean to scare you, son," he says, his voice trembling. "I’m so sorry. I was just... I was so angry, but I should never have scared you like that. I should’ve been better."

Tears start to well up in his eyes, and before he knows it, they’re spilling over. He steps closer, his arms trembling as he reaches out, gently wrapping them around your son. Your son stiffens at first, still scared, but after a moment, San tightens his embrace, pulling him close.

"I love you, buddy," San whispers, his voice breaking as he holds his son tighter. "I’m so, so sorry. Please... please forgive me. I was wrong. I just... I can’t stand the thought of hurting you."

Your son doesn’t say anything, but San feels the soft warmth of his body in his arms. His own tears flow freely now, a mix of guilt, regret, and the overwhelming love he feels for his son. "You’re everything to me," he says, his voice strained with emotion. "You don’t deserve to be scared of me. I don’t want you to ever feel like that again."

His son’s body slowly relaxes, but he still doesn’t say anything, his small arms slowly coming up to wrap around San’s waist, tentative at first. San feels a wave of relief, but it doesn’t completely wipe away the pain in his chest. He knows this moment is just the first step in healing their bond.

San pulls back slightly, his face streaked with tears. "I’ll do better, son. I promise. We’ll get through this together. I love you more than anything in this world."

Your son finally looks up at him, his eyes red and swollen from crying. "I’m sorry too, Dad," he says quietly, his voice small and unsure. "I didn’t mean to... to make you angry."

San’s heart aches as he wipes the tears from his son’s face. "It’s okay," he says softly, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "I’m the one who should be sorry. But we’ll work through this, okay? You’re not alone."

And in that moment, with his son in his arms, San realizes that the road ahead won’t be easy, but with love, patience, and understanding, they’ll find their way back to each other. Together.

Later that day, after everything has calmed down and your son has gone to his room, San comes to you, his shoulders heavy with guilt. He’s sitting on the edge of your bed, his hands clasped tightly in his lap, and his face is filled with raw emotion. His eyes are red, still swollen from the tears he shed earlier, and when he looks at you, there’s a deep sadness in them.

“I don’t know what I was thinking,” San starts, his voice shaking. "I can’t believe I did that. He was scared of me... My own son. How could I let it get that far?" His words are broken, and his whole demeanor feels like he's carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

You immediately move closer to him, sitting down beside him, your hand finding his. "San," you say softly, your voice full of understanding and reassurance, "it’s okay. I know it wasn’t your intention, and we’ve both been through so much. I understand how you feel, but you need to remember that you’re only human."

San’s face crumbles as he finally lets out a sob. He leans into you, burying his face in your shoulder as his tears flow freely. His body shakes with the weight of the guilt, and he cries harder than he has all day. “I just feel like I’ve failed him,” he admits through his tears, his voice muffled. “I was too harsh. Too... scary. I don’t want him to think I’m a monster.”

You pull him closer, wrapping your arms around him tightly, not caring about the tears that are now soaking your shirt. You gently stroke his hair, soothing him with your touch, as he continues to cry. "San, you’re not scary to me," you whisper softly, your voice a comfort, a steady presence in his whirlwind of emotions. "You’re not a monster. You’re the best father and husband anyone could have asked for. What happened today... it wasn’t your fault. It was a moment of frustration, but I know your heart. You love our son more than anything in this world, and he knows that too."

San shakes his head, his tears soaking into your skin. "I just wanted to protect him," he whispers, voice breaking. "I don’t want him to think he can walk all over you, but... I didn’t mean to hurt him. I’m so sorry."

You tighten your hold on him, your chest tight with emotion as you press a soft kiss to his temple. "It’s okay, San," you murmur, your voice filled with love and tenderness. "You’ll never be scary to me. Never. I know you. You’re just trying to do what’s best, and sometimes... sometimes we get lost in the moment. But we’ll get through this together."

He lifts his head, his eyes filled with tears as he looks into yours. "I don’t deserve you," he says softly, almost in disbelief. "I’m sorry for scaring you, for all of this."

You shake your head, cupping his face gently. "You don’t need to apologize for loving us, for caring for us. You’re doing your best, and that’s enough. I’ll always be here for you. We’re in this together, San."

The rawness of the moment, the vulnerability, the tears, and the understanding between you, fills the room with a warmth that soothes the ache in both your hearts. In this quiet moment, as you hold him, it’s clear to you both that this love, no matter how difficult, will always bring you back to each other. The pain will pass, but the strength of your bond will remain unshaken.

San lets out a long breath, his tears slowly subsiding as he rests against you, your arms wrapped around him, offering him the comfort he needs. And in this moment, you both understand that even when things get tough, you will always be there for each other, ready to weather the storm together.

It’s another tense moment in the house. San is clearly upset, his anger flaring over something small, a stressful day at work or perhaps an old frustration resurfacing. He stands in the middle of the living room, his hands clenched at his sides, his jaw tight. In his rage, he swings around too quickly, his hand knocking into a glass vase that shatters across the floor, pieces of glass scattering in all directions.

The sound of the crash echoes through the room, and before either of you can react fully, you hear the soft patter of footsteps running toward you. Your son bursts into the room, his eyes wide with fear. When he sees the mess and the tension between you and San, his heart immediately starts racing. Without thinking, he runs straight to you, clutching your legs with trembling hands, tears welling up in his eyes.

"Mom, what happened?" he cries, his voice a mix of fear and confusion.

Your heart races as you instinctively pull him into your arms, trying to shield him from the chaos unfolding. When your eyes turn toward San, you see his eyes are full of regret, but also a storm of frustration. He's trying to calm down, but it's clear that the anger hasn't left him yet.

For a split second, you misinterpret the scene. The vase shattered, and the air is thick with tension. Your son is terrified, clinging to you, and you're suddenly on edge, your protective instinct kicking in. You look at San, your own fear beginning to take root, as you mistakenly think he did this on purpose. The sharpness of the anger in his eyes adds to the confusion, and in that moment, your voice cracks as you yell, "San, stop! You’re scaring him!"

Your words hang in the air, and the moment you say them, you see San’s face fall. His eyes widen with hurt, and then, like a wave crashing over him, the guilt and the realization hit. He didn’t mean for any of this to happen, and now you’re afraid of him too. His shoulders shake, his fists ball up, and before you can process anything further, he breaks down completely.

"I didn’t mean to—" San’s voice is barely a whisper, but the raw pain in it makes you freeze. He staggers back, the hurt on his face overwhelming. "I didn’t want to scare you both. I didn’t mean to break anything. Please..." His voice cracks as he sinks to his knees, tears streaming down his face, the anger morphing into a heart-wrenching despair. "I don’t know how to fix this anymore. I really don’t."

Your heart breaks at the sight of him, your protective instincts still holding tight to your son, but now you see the shattered man before you. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It never was.

"San..." you say softly, your voice trembling as you reach out, finally allowing yourself to see him for what he truly is — a man struggling with his own emotions. You’re still holding your son tightly, but your gaze never leaves San. "I... I thought you—"

"I didn’t mean to," San chokes out, his breath coming in gasps. He’s shaking now, broken and vulnerable. "I didn’t mean to make him afraid of me. I swear I didn’t do it on purpose. I just... I don’t know how to control it sometimes. I just... I lost it." He curls in on himself, his arms hugging his knees, his head bowed in shame. "I’m sorry, I’m sorry... I can’t fix it."

Your son looks up at you, his fear slowly fading but still lingering. "Is Dad... is he mad at me, Mom?" he asks, his voice small.

You look at your son, then back at San, the room filled with the weight of the situation. You pull your son closer to you, your voice gentle but firm. "No, sweetheart," you say softly, "Your dad is just upset with himself, not with you. He's sorry, okay?"

San looks up, his eyes full of regret as he meets your gaze. "I’m sorry for scaring both of you. I never want to be someone you have to be afraid of."

You walk over to him, crouching down so you’re at eye level, your hand reaching out to him. "You’re not the danger, San," you say with conviction, your voice soft but steady. "You just lost control for a moment. We all do. But this—" You gesture between the three of you, holding your son close while you look at San. "This is not how we handle things. We’ll figure it out together. You don't have to carry this weight alone."

San looks at you, tears still in his eyes, but the sincerity in your words starts to reach him. "I don’t know how to make it right," he whispers.

You cup his face in your hands gently, brushing away the tears from his cheeks, and you speak to him with warmth and tenderness. "We’ll work through it, San. Together. One step at a time. You’re not alone in this."

San slowly nods, his body still shaking with emotion, but there's a faint sense of relief in his eyes now, even though he’s not fully okay yet. You stand, guiding him gently to his feet, pulling him close, and wrapping your arms around him, offering him the comfort he so desperately needs.

Your son, still in your arms, watches the scene unfold, slowly understanding that everything is going to be okay — that even though things got rough, love and understanding are always the answers.

The room is quiet, the tension still lingering, but you hold each other close. You know the road ahead will take time, but with patience, love, and mutual support, things will heal.

It’s late one evening, the house quiet except for the soft hum of the air conditioning. You and San are sitting together on the couch, the dim lighting casting shadows across the room. The air feels different tonight, heavier somehow, like a storm is coming but it’s not the kind you can see in the sky. You’ve noticed how San has been quieter lately, more withdrawn, his usual calm demeanor tinged with something else. Tonight, he’s looking at you differently, like there’s something he’s been holding onto for far too long.

Finally, he exhales deeply, his voice shaky as he starts, "I... I need to tell you something, something I’ve never said to anyone." You immediately turn toward him, sensing the weight in his words.

"I’ve never really fit in anywhere," he begins, his voice softer now. "Ever since I was a kid, people thought I was... scary. They said my smile was terrifying. Can you imagine that? As a child... I just wanted to make friends, but no one understood me." He runs a hand through his hair, looking down at the floor. "They saw my face, my body, and they saw... fear. They didn’t see me, just the surface. And so... I was alone a lot. I never understood why people treated me like that."

You can see the pain in his eyes, a deep sadness that’s been buried for years. His stoic expression, the thing that’s always seemed so strong and dependable to you, now feels like an armor he’s been wearing for a lifetime to protect himself from the world’s judgment.

"You’re the first person who’s ever really understood me," he says, his voice breaking slightly. "But now, with our son, I feel like... I feel like I’m scaring you too. I’m worried I’m going to hurt him, or hurt you, or... maybe I already have. I don’t know what to do anymore." His tears start to fall, one after the other, as he looks at you with raw vulnerability.

Your heart aches as you reach out for him, pulling him into your arms. "San," you whisper softly, your voice trembling as the weight of his words sinks in. "I’m so sorry. I didn’t know... I didn’t know you went through all of that."

He clings to you, his body shaking as he lets out a sob, his shoulders trembling with emotion. "I never wanted to be this way. I never wanted anyone to think I was... a monster. But now I feel like I’m scaring the only two people I care about the most. I don’t know how to fix this."

You stroke his back gently, your own tears falling as you speak, your voice full of love and empathy. "San, you’re not scary. Not to me. You never have been." You pull back slightly so you can look into his eyes. "I love everything about you. Your body, your strength... they’re a part of who you are, and I love them, but what I love even more is your heart. Your giant, warm heart. It’s what makes you... you. The person who is always there for me, for our son, for everyone."

San’s eyes widen as he listens to you, his breath shallow from the weight of your words. "You really mean that?" he whispers, his voice filled with disbelief.

"Yes, San," you say, cupping his face gently, wiping away the tears from his cheeks. "Your smile... it’s always been my favorite thing about you. I know it’s been hard for you, but when you smile, it lights up the whole room. When you’re happy, your eyes go tiny, and your dimples pop, and it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Your smile is my everything. It’s a part of you, just like your heart."

You both start crying, the emotions raw and unfiltered. San’s tears continue to fall, but now there’s a sense of relief in them, like he’s finally allowing himself to feel something different. He leans into you, his body shaking as he lets out the pain he’s been carrying for so long. You hold him tight, rocking gently back and forth, letting him know that he’s not alone, that you love him with all of your heart, and that none of his fears are true.

"I’m here, San," you whisper, kissing the top of his head. "I’m here, and I always will be. You don’t have to carry this burden anymore. We’re in this together, okay? You’re perfect just the way you are."

San’s grip on you tightens, his sobs quieting as he leans into you, finding comfort in your embrace. You hold each other, both of you crying and healing in each other’s arms, the weight of the past finally starting to lift, piece by piece.

"I love you so much," he whispers into your chest, his voice muffled but filled with sincerity. "I don’t deserve you."

"You do," you reply, your heart swelling with love for him. "You do, San. You’re my everything."

And in that moment, the storm inside him finally starts to subside, the quiet understanding between you both stronger than any fear or doubt he’s carried with him. As you hold him close, you both know that healing takes time, but together, you can face anything.

As San lies there in your arms, his sobs slowly calming, you gently pull away to look at him. His face is still streaked with tears, his eyes tired but filled with so much emotion. You reach out, cupping his face softly in your hands, your fingers brushing against the smooth skin of his cheeks.

"San," you say softly, your voice tender, "I need to see that smile. The one I love so much."

He hesitates for a moment, his eyes darting away as if unsure, the weight of everything he's felt still heavy in the air. But then, ever so slightly, his lips curl upward into a watery smile, fragile but real. The dimples you adore make their appearance, though his eyes are still clouded with sorrow.

It’s that smile—the one that used to feel so distant, like a part of him he couldn’t give away—and now, it’s just for you.

Your heart breaks in that moment, shattered into a million pieces. You’re flooded with a deep ache, a pain for all the years he spent feeling misunderstood, but also with overwhelming love for this man, for who he truly is. You hold him closer, kissing him gently, tenderly, over and over again. You kiss his forehead, his eyes, his cheeks, the tip of his nose, as if you’re worshipping every inch of him.

"I love you so much, San," you whisper, each word full of sincerity and affection. "I love you more than anything. You’re perfect to me. That smile... it’s everything."

San, still vulnerable and emotional, closes his eyes, as if savoring the way you’re showering him with love and affection, your lips leaving gentle kisses all over his face. When you pull back, he’s looking at you, his gaze soft, but with a slight chuckle as if he’s in disbelief.

"You really love my smile that much?" he asks, his voice still hoarse, but now with a hint of warmth returning to it.

"Yes, San," you reply, brushing away the last of his tears. "I love it. It’s my favorite thing about you. Every time I see it, my heart... it just melts. You look so cute when you smile, even like this. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen."

From that day forward, you make sure to notice his smile—no matter how small, no matter how fleeting—and you never let him doubt how much it means to you. You tell him often how cute he looks when he smiles, how his happiness lights up everything around him. You make sure he knows that he’s perfect just the way he is, that nothing will ever change the way you feel about him.

Whenever you see him smile, even when it’s just a small, quiet smile, you make it a point to appreciate it, to make sure he knows just how much it means to you. You never let him forget that his smile is everything to you.

One afternoon, you and San are sitting together in the living room, relaxing as the day winds down. The sound of the door opening and the familiar footsteps of your son coming in fills the air, and your heart automatically swells with warmth as he walks into the room. His presence always brings a sense of comfort, and today, you can tell there's something different in the way he's carrying himself.

"Hey, Mom, Dad!" your son calls, his voice bright and cheerful. You smile at him as he walks over, taking a seat next to you. His usual playful grin is on his face, but there's an extra sparkle in his eyes today.

"How was school?" you ask, ruffling his hair affectionately.

"Good," he replies with a nod, then pauses for a moment before his face lights up with excitement. "So, guess what happened today?"

San raises an eyebrow, curious, and you lean in, eager to hear. "What happened?"

He grins widely, his dimples popping just like San's, and says, "Everyone was complimenting my smile today! They said I look adorable when I smile. I even thanked them, and then I told them that my dad has the same smile!" He laughs softly, clearly proud of the comparison.

For a moment, time seems to stand still. You glance over at San, who is frozen in place, his expression softening with an emotion so deep, it’s hard to describe. His lips tremble as he takes in the words, his hand instinctively reaching for yours. You squeeze it, feeling the warmth and emotion radiating from him. There’s a shift in the air, a kind of magic, as San’s heart feels like it’s finally being healed in a way he never imagined.

San looks at your son, his voice cracking slightly as he speaks. "You... you told them I have the same smile?" His tone is filled with awe and something else—relief, happiness, but also vulnerability. He blinks back tears as he struggles to process the significance of this moment.

Your son nods enthusiastically, clearly not fully aware of the impact of his words, but simply enjoying the fact that his smile is being appreciated by others. "Yeah! I think it’s pretty cool that we have the same smile. I guess I’ve always had it, but now I really see it."

San's emotions are overwhelming him, and his hand shakes slightly as he covers his face, trying to hold back the tears. His heart is full, a deep ache that’s been buried for so long now starting to surface. You can see the weight of everything he's carried for so many years—the isolation, the misunderstanding—all of it healing in that very moment.

"I can’t believe it," he whispers softly, his voice thick with emotion. "I never thought I’d see the day... when my son would have the same smile, and people would love it... just like I always wanted when I was a kid." He looks up at you, his eyes glistening with tears, but this time, they're tears of pure joy. "Thank God. Thank God he didn’t have to go through what I did."

You lean in, brushing away a tear from his cheek, and kiss his forehead gently. "He’s healing you, San. He’s healing the parts of you that needed it. You don’t even realize how much just having him around, loving him, has been the key to your own healing."

San’s chest rises and falls with shaky breaths as he holds your son tightly, pulling him close in a tender hug. His son, unaware of the depth of his father's past pain, simply rests his head against San's chest, smiling up at him.

"I never thought I’d see this day," San whispers to you, his voice barely audible. "That my son would heal the scars I’ve carried all these years. He didn’t even know... and yet... just by being himself, he’s helped me more than I ever thought possible."

Tears flow freely now, and you hold both of them—your son and your husband—in your arms, the love and healing filling the room. This moment is so raw, so real, and yet so beautiful that you can’t help but feel the depth of its meaning. It’s a testament to how far San has come, how much he’s overcome, and how his son, without even realizing it, has helped him heal the wounds that were once so deep and painful.

"I’m so proud of you, San," you whisper, holding both of them tightly. "You’re an amazing father, and you’ve given our son something so precious—something you never had. And look at him, just being himself... showing you that smile... He’s your legacy, your healing."

San nods, his face wet with tears, but this time, they’re not tears of sadness. They’re tears of release, of relief, of gratitude. "I can’t believe it... he’s my little miracle."

And in that moment, everything feels right. The past pain, the struggles, the fears—they no longer have the power to haunt him. The love of his family, the healing power of a smile, has given him a new hope for the future. And for the first time in his life, San feels like he’s truly understood.

#ateez reactions #ateez imagines #san x reader

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