#avid reader (practicing)

[dancedance-resolution]

i started a supercorp portrait of a lady on fire au like three years ago. i'm never going to finish it, but the writing style is pretty cool, so i want to share it. so um enjoy the prologue and a bit of chapter one?

---

Prologue. Bonnelles, France. 1786.

“First, my contours,” Kara said, her voice soft and level. She looked out upon the dozen or so young women, their eyes darting back and forth from their papers to Kara herself. “The outline,” she continued. The increasingly swift sound of scratching charcoal prompted Kara to further instruct, “Not too fast. Take time to look at me.” She paused. “See how my arms are placed.”

At that moment, Kara saw the painting.

She swallowed and took in a breath; she schooled her expression before letting out the air with a pathetically soft “My hands.” Her students’ gaze followed her verbal direction, now observing as Kara’s fingers curled with remembrance. Their own hands now began to sketch the slope of hers—the slope that had once coaxed breathy moans from a lover, the slope that had once created that very painting in all of its hollow longing.

Kara felt her heart rate accelerating, and her attempts at calming deep breaths only made her shoulders shake unsteadily. “Who brought that painting out?” Her eyes darted around, landing on each possible offender, as she tensed her core and adopted a stern countenance.

Every student dutifully turned to look at the work.

It was an especially young girl who finally lifted her hand. “I brought it. From the stock room. Should I have not?”

Kara’s “no” felt like a brick, its weight threatening to pry tears from her reddening eyes. So Kara took another swallow, a handful of blinks, a few more steadying breaths.

“Did you paint it?” the girl asked innocently. Nia, her name was? She stared at Kara, oblivious to the flood of sound overwhelming Kara’s mind and echoing in the cavern of her heart.

“Yes,” Kara uttered softly, the word barely audible as they fell from her lips. “A long time ago.”

Nia’s head snapped back to examine the painting once more. It stood on an old but sturdy easel, tattooed and scarred but still standing. The artwork itself was brooding, with a white sun bleeding into a dark vignette. Heavy clumps of clouds occupied the sky and caged some of the sun’s rays, so the fire burning behind the woman was bright enough in comparison to create a dragging shadow of her figure. The flames crawled up the back of her windswept dress, bringing sharp tension to an otherwise lulling, melancholy landscape.

“What’s the title?”

The sound of the sea began to swell in Kara’s head. Her lips trembled. Her body unwittingly swayed slightly. “Portrait of a Lady on Fire.”

---

Chapter I. The island of Brittany, France, and the surrounding sea. 1779.

Kara squinted into the distance, her face scrunching up a bit as she desperately tried to shield her eyes from the harsh glare of the sun on the water. For all its gorgeous teals and sparkling peaks, it certainly did make her wish for one of those brimmed hats the rowers were all wearing. With every one of their paced paddles, the cork-like little canoe bobbed haphazardly. Kara rather felt as if she were in the wine glass of a thoroughly drunken Marie Antoinette.

At least she wasn’t prone to seasickness.

She still felt quite unsteady, though, being thrown about and forced to pathetically grab onto the boat’s low walls. She leaned forward, trying to regain her balance and ground herself despite the absence of ground.

The wooden pallet holding her canvas was, apparently, as unstable as she was, and the next thing Kara knew, it had been lurched off of the boat like vomit from a drunkard. Kara watched helplessly as it thrashed among the choppy waves, the sea carrying it a few feet from the boat.

The chief rower met her desperate look with exhausted resignation; he ceased his paddling as Kara shed her overcoat and placed a precarious foot on the edge of the canoe.

With a strained creak from the boat’s wood, she jumped into the water, dress billowing behind her. Her first gasp for air upon emerging from the water was audible; she could feel the effort in her throat. Her arms moved in laborious little arcs as she slowly made her way towards the floating pallet and finally made a desperate reach for it. Kara’s fingers grasped onto a wooden board, and she pulled herself up onto it with a grunt.

---

The incessant wind upon the sea was certainly not helping Kara. Dripping wet, she wrapped herself up in her overcoat in a pitiful plea for warmth. She held the edges of the garment up to her lips, the sensation of the dry fabric bringing her some comfort as she closed her eyes and left herself to the mercy of the mighty sea.

But the interminable rocking of the feeble boat wouldn’t allow her any rest.

Kara wasn’t very religious, not anymore. Yet, the sight of the cliffs and coast of Brittany moved her to relieved prayer.

---

The sun had already begun to set as Kara trekked up the sandy coast. Her legs ached with every stumbling, unsure step—maybe she was a bit seasick after all—and her hands were tired of having to grip her full skirt to keep it out of her way.

She paused on the rocks, taking a moment to manually wring some of the water out of her skirt. She filled her lungs with an arduous breath before slinging the rope holding the pallet over her shoulder. Next came the fabric sling, which housed her trunk of personal items—she positioned it on her back with careful poise.

The journey up the cliffs and towards the trees was exhausting. Kara’s skirt required repositioning every few seconds, the rope was digging into her shoulder, and the pallet and trunk slammed into her back with each wobbling step. By the time she reached the straight path up to the residence, her breaths were heavy and pained, and the sun was nearly fully hidden beneath the horizon.

A soft light emanated from the windows above the mansion’s door, helping Kara feel a bit more secure as she knocked. A short blonde woman answered her summon and introduced herself with a flat “I’m Eve.” She opened the door a bit wider and gestured with her body for Kara to come in.

Eve held a small candle as she guided Kara up the stairs, the sounds of their shoes echoing through the grand yet starkly undecorated hallway. The walls of the stairwell were cement bricks, and the wrought iron bannister was rather plain and geometric.

They came to a stop in front of a similarly void room, bare save a few heavy curtains and a daybed. The raised panels along these walls matched the white-painted wood of the window frames, and they gave the chamber some elegant character.

While Eve entered the comparatively less intimidating room, Kara stayed back a moment, taking in the shafts of muted blue light from the windows and the contrasting warm glow of leaping flames from the central fireplace.

Eve crouched down to poke at the fire as Kara set down her belongings. “It was a reception room,” Eve explained. “Though I’ve never seen it used.”

The fire crackled pleasantly. “Have you been here long?” Kara inquired.

“Three years,” Eve answered, directing her attention back to the fire.

Kara peeled off her overcoat and draped it along the wainscoting. “Do you like it here?”

“Yes,” Eve said simply as she stood up. She turned to Kara, meeting her eyes now as her hands smoothed over her skirt. “I’ll let you get dry.” And with a nod, she was on her way.

Kara watched her every step.

Once the door closed, she hastily began removing her overskirt. It fell to the dark herringbone floor with an unglamorous thud.

---

There was no method or grace to the way Kara wrapped her hand around the rusting crowbar, but with a few jerks, she’d managed to successfully pry the top off of the pallet.

After setting down the wood cover, Kara extended her hand, letting it fall clumsily onto the slick canvas in front of her. It was still wet, and her hand’s small circular movement caused moisture to pool at her fingertips, as if her touch had beckoned the water. So her hand withdrew, and Kara slid the canvas out from its container. Her eyes danced over the surface as she considered how to dry it, holding it in front of herself like the Communion host of an evening Mass.

---

Kara decided to accompany her drying canvas, which was now positioned next to the fireplace. Stripped naked, she sat in front of the fire and pulled her legs towards herself—she was vulnerable, sitting there bare and in a new environment, and the action made her feel a bit more small, compact, and safe.

Kara set down her candle so she could light her tobacco pipe with the flames. Her large, smoky exhales grounded her, in a way, with the familiar sight and smell acting as a sort of sedative. And she stared forward, expression blank but unmistakably worn.

---

Kara walked barefoot along the cement floor, making her way through the hall and to the pantry room wrapped in nothing but her robe-like smock.

[pantestudines]

having a "former gifted kid" type mental spiral

[scattered-winter]

I think one of the biggest things I want to break the cycle of if I'm ever able to have kids is religion tbh. like growing up my parents didn't really give me a choice of which religion I wanted to be a part of, if any, and when I expressed interest in studying religions from other cultures as a hobby they got freaked out and made me promise I'd "be careful not to fall away from the True Real Church" or whatever and like. idk I feel like a kid should be allowed to choose for themselves !? because religion is a big personal thing and so I think the reason it never clicked with me was because it was always something I was forced to do and believe. and idk if I ever have a kid I would want them to be able to explore the world around them and decide what they believe on their own, and have my support no matter what they choose

[tyrannuspitch]

since the beginning of may i've started 33 books and finished 12 of them. that's... not as bad a proportion as i thought it was. hmm.

[saerotonins]

actor!yuuji & actor!sukuna headcanons

ft. itadori yuuji and ryomen sukuna 

content warnings: fluff, itadori twins au, overall cuteness, implied x reader (separated), jjk manga spoilers, characters are aged up to 20+

wc: 2.3k (jesus christ lol)

note: i miss my little actors so much lol. also, i think this is a bit too long, my bad 😭

jjk actor au masterlist

as twin actors:

believe it or not, jjk is like one of the roles that had them cast together 

both of them usually like to play different roles in different shows because they just don't want to be known as each other's twins

love that for them, they're so real for that

but when they were cast, they accepted it since the script and plot were interesting 

yuuji is a sweetheart inside out and sukuna is the quieter one between the two, sukuna is soft for his brother though so don't get fooled by his tough persona

yes, he is the older twin LOL and always holds it against yuuji just to be petty

"dude can you get me that can of soda?""why are you ordering your older brother around? have some shame"

yuuji just rolls his eyes but before he gets up and get it himself, sukuna will wordlessly stands up and does it anyway

checks on yuuji whenever he does intense fight scenes

both of them do the stunt themselves since they ate both so physically active

education wise, yuuji graduated as a marketing major and sukuna has a degree in physical therapy 

which explains why him and his brother always practice fight scenes together and he helps yuuji with his stance and warm ups!

it's adorable really and he's so tsundere about it too

"no not like that, put your legs this way dumbass" like that typa stuff

sukuna started off as a model but was later on casted because casting agencies thought he has that great villain face

yuuji started off as a side character and really likes acting (he is the theatre kid between the two and sukuna is the quiz bee kid, their mom is BOOKED and busy) and later on recognized because he's just THAT good

yuuji is usually a romance lead or 2nd lead and a slice-of-life guy so when fans found out he will be in an action show, they are excited!

sukuna on the other hand has been casted as a tsundere in romance shows, sometimes a bully and an antagonist in action shows, but a villain that is literally so powerful??? that is so new so his fans are anticipating 

both of them usually arrive on the set together (sukuna is the one driving btw and yuuji just sleeps during the trip)

yuuji prepares both of their bento boxes btw

sukuna loves it

he can cook, but that's it LMAO

he won't admit it but yuuji is the better cook

lowkey a picky eater so yeah

ACTOR!SUKUNA HEADCANONS:

sukuna is the intimidating one (obv) so when him and the other casts first met + the first few readings, it was sooo awkward 

turns out he's lowkey a goofy guy

has fun with his costars and helps them with fight scenes too, gotta put that physical therapy degree into good use

both him and nanami have this silent bond because whenever they're together they just don't talk and bask in the silence as they sit, they just peace amidst their crazy schedule

also an avid toji fan so when this guy found out he's in the same show with his idol he's almost shitting bricks

let out a really loud cheer when he found out and only yuuji knew about it LOL

has a deep-rooted respect towards him and it's sooo obvious whenever toji is around

he is such a fucking fangirl

he just thinks he's so badass and feels so honored to be casted in the same show as him

feels bad that he has to beat up almost everyone 😭 he is also a sweetheart deep inside

deep inside, he's such a caring and protective brother for yuuji because even though he doesn't have any scenes to be filmed, he still joins him on set whenever time allows him

he may not show it but he's sometimes lowkey terrified about fans tearing him up into shreds whenever he kills their favorite character 

imagine sukuna dripping big sweats by the time THAT episode with [redacted] aired oh my GOD he was so fucking nervous considering their fanbase is so big

yuuji has never seen his brother THIS nervous before and he's enjoying it

luckily though, not much hate happened and most of the time it's just memes and playful banter

his ass is barely on social media LOL

in the years of his instagram existing he only has like 90+ posts or even below 😭 usually it's just promotion, being an ambassador, magazine shoots— very lowkey 

doesn't have much digital footprint and i love that for him

whenever he posts, his fans are EATING IT UP since it happens every once in a blue moon lmfao

ACTOR!SUKUNA AS YOUR PARTNER:

as tough as he looks, he actually can be quite clingy, just behind closed doors though

lowkey feels bad when he has to beat up children (LMAO) and his co-actors and asks for cuddles from you for comfort

it's actually kind of adorable 

sometimes if his schedule doesn't allow him to have time to visit you, you'll get messages like "babe i just beat up megumi :(" 

since he's not active on social media, he knows some stuff online through you or yuuji

kind of a sad reason why he doesn't go online as much is because as tough as he looks, he's just a guy scared of the hate he's going to have just because he plays a villain or antagonist most of the time

he knows it's not his fault, he just knows that some people just don't know how to separate reality from acting

especially when that scene where he had to off a certain jujutsu sorcerer actor with a huge fanbase

oh boy was he so fucking scared and ran into your arms for comfort :(

he's a softie deep inside ok

when they have to go out of town or even overseas to film, he gets incredibly homesick and misses you so much 

expect a lot of "i miss you" messages, including selfies and candid pictures that he took around the set to

practicing his lines with you is close to impossible, this guy gets all blushy and shit because you're in front of him

and since most of his lines are mean as hell, he just doesn't want to be mean to you

he wants to impress you so bad but when you're around he just becomes a little high school boy with a big crush LMAO

he's such a sweetheart deep inside oh my god

when he decides he wants to post a new photo in his ig, you're the first and only person he'll ask for opinions

so this just means that most, if not all of his posts were handpicked by you

wears your matching stuff like accessories on set and gets sad when he has to take it off while filming

when he learned that his character would have face tattoos, the first thing he did was come home to you with his face makeup on (he had to ask his makeup artist to let it stay) and imitate it on your face

i have this headcanon that sukuna knows how to draw (and is very good at it) so it takes almost no effort to draw the tattoos on your face

you two then have a mini photoshoot (aka just taking a lot of selfies) with the both of you with sukuna marks on the face

it looks so cute that he made it his lock screen

he's lowkey such a sap don't let the character he's playing fool you

ACTOR!YUUJI HEADCANONS:

THE MAN THE MYTH THE BABY

he is literally a sunshine in or out of acting

so polite and so kind it's hard to hate him (not that he is even worth hating on)

so naturally, everyone on set loves to work with him!

unlike his brother, before acting, he doesn't really know a lot of fighting stance (he's a marketing major ffs lol) BUT ever since he was casted, he doubled up on his working out routine with the help of sukuna

even invested his time learning boxing which later on paid soooo much

can literally make everyone on set "aww" whenever his script requires him so cry or even witness a gruesome death scene *cough* nanami and nobara *cough*

during breaks, him and nobara do tiktok challenges and even those kpop challenges all the time and the crew enjoys watching them do it and the fans like it too

he does it too with choso and todo

this guy literally has 3 older brothers who are protective of him it's so cute

this man is so talented, he can cook, sing, dance, act, and is pretty smart too during his university days, it's so hard not to be in love with him

the greenest of the green flags (just like nanamin!) the girls the guys the folks LOVE him so much, literally the standard 

just like sukuna, he was fangirling so hard when he found out he's going to be in the same drama with THE nanami kento

he's such a big big BIG fan 

has a fan account of him on twitter that is pretty popular but you didn't hear that from me

it's so cute when they're together because they're literally THE father and son duo EVER

has the time of his life whenever he visits nanami and his wife's house and just chill there, sometimes brings his first-year trio besties too (both nanami and his wife don't mind at all)

aside from sukuna, he sometimes practices fight scenes with nanami too!

he is so active on social media 😭 interacts with as many fans as he can and posts all the time on ig and twitter 

has a lot of cute interactions with fans too

by extension, his account is sukuna's behind the scene account LOL

since his brother doesn't post a lot, sukuna's fans tune in to his posts and stories of sukuna behind the scenes or even just some pictures of him that he doesn't post

some of it are just pics of the brothers chilling or going out

yuuji is literally the sukuna fan's saint because of the amount of sukuna content he's giving them LOL

ok but don't get fooled by yuuji's sunshine personality, because he knows how to bite too

whenever he saw hate tweets his brother is getting for playing a villain, he is quick to respond and defend his brother

lowkey a nightmare for the PR team but they know where he's coming from

and despite sukuna telling him to just ignore it, he appreciates his little brother more than anything 

ACTOR!YUUJI AS YOUR PARTNER:

one word: ANGEL

he's literally so lover coded oh my goodness

leaves you some post-it notes on the fridge every single day before he leaves to film

if the trip goes on for days he will leave at least three long love letters for you to read when you miss him and he's busy

creates personal vlogs JUST FOR YOU so if the both of you can't facetime, you'll still know what he is up to

when he was contacted to be the main character of the show, he confided in you whether or not he should accept the offer

don't get him wrong, he is beyond grateful the people think he's capable enough to be the main lead but it makes him nervous 

this is his first main character role and the pressure of it all is heavy on his shoulders 

he asked for his brother's opinion too but he trusts you enough to talk about his feelings regarding this

of course, when you said that you'll be there with him in every step and support him all the time and do everything to keep the communication between the two of you going despite his soon-to-be hectic schedule, his heart is finally set on accepting the role

you are so proud of him! your baby finally getting the recognition he deserves? hell yeah

his busy schedule was never a barrier between the two of you, yuuji never forgets to update and call you whenever his time permits and he always appreciates every cheer you have given him

type of actor boyfie to show you off his social media platform!

he posts your dates and even hangouts with each other

his fans find it quite adorable and is in love with your whole relationship 

likes to do those couple tiktok challenges with you and post them online, you guys even have shippers lol

of course, if you're the lowkey type, yuuji would respect that and will only include you in his online shenanigans when you feel like it or allow him to post it

practicing lines with you is always exciting but never productive LOL

you both just end up giggling and laughing 

in the end you just both opt to cuddle instead (or even make our LMFAO)

yuuji just feels so lucky to have his ever-supporting partner along the way

[velchronica]

blue lock boys’ perfect matches ( part i ) ♬~*.°₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ bllk

charas: isagi, bachira, chigiri, kunigami, reo (seperate, aged up/pro, fem!reader)

୨୧ * my personal hcs on who the bllk boys would fall in love with, how they’d meet and some scenarios unique to their relationships * just for fun -> nothing serious ໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১ * (part one/???)

isagi yoichi! ˖♡ ࣪‧♫ ₊˚໒꒱⋆✩

୨୧ * i feel like isagi would probably be the type who falls in love with the sports journalist interviewing him 😭 he’s such a football nerd & he’d defo suit someone who understands his passion, esp on a technical level. he defo rambles and borderline mansplains his tactics and plays to a sports journalist!s/o, but i also think he’s good at finding a decent work-life balance, so sports isn’t everything in your relationship.

୨୧ * isagi’s ability to separate his professional life aka his football ego/persona from his sweet irl personality would make him a green flag bf, bc he defo puts in as much effort into his relationship as he does football. he loves football, but he also loves his s/o just as much, if not slightly more, so while football is a prominent part in both your lives, it isn’t necessarily the defining factor in your relationship.

୨୧ * i also think isagi would date someone driven towards their own career, even if it’s not journalism. he defo would LOVE you in sporty clothing or leggings that show off ur thighs cos he has a canonical thing for those lmao. oh AND he’s the type who’s quite good with kids but has a level of awkwardness with them still, so watching his s/o struggle to interact with them would set him up for a laugh (w/ no ill intent, ofc). but if you’re really good with kids, no problem, because he’ll just watch you with sparkling eyes full of awe, heart swelling with unbridled affection.

୨୧ * he would defo be the perfect bf if you’re a picky eater cos he’ll find ways to work with your preferences but also encourage you to try new foods. the gentlemen who whisks you out everywhere to try new cuisine at nice restaurants and sneakily pays mid-meal during a ‘bathroom break’ so that when you attempt to pull your card out afterwards, he can simply smile and shake his head. goddamnit isagi. his argument is that growing up average and then getting propelled into wealth and fame means that he jumps at every opportunity to spoil you and show you off. you’re beautiful inside and out and he won’t treat you like anything less than a goddess.

bachira meguru! ˖♡ ࣪‧♫ ₊˚໒꒱⋆✩

୨୧ * bachira’s ideal s/o is either someone who loves retro 70s clothing, an indie band kid, or both combined. i feel like bachira’s goofy ass would go well with someone sweet, but not quite as hyperactive as himself. his ideal s/o is definitely either a bookworm or a guitarist, with no in between. he’s defo such a gremlin with you, either interrupting your peaceful reading sessions by being clingy and demanding cuddles, or asking you to play his favourite songs instead of the things you’re meant to be practicing.

୨୧ * bachira would go to every single one of guitarist!s/o’s gigs. he loves you so much, after all! you can hear his holler of your name over the crowds cheers as the speakers blare and your strings come to life. he’s not a memorisation-strong kind of guy, but he definitely knows all the lyrics to your favourite songs, and the lyrics to your originals, too. he has two versions of each one of your albums, one for the cd and one to add to the house-of-cd-cases-turned-shrine he has assembled somewhere in your apartment.

୨୧ * whereas with bookworm!s/o, bachira got his mom to teach him how to paint so that he could do those viral page-edge paintings. on your birthday, he gifts you hardback copies of your favourite books with intricate fore-edge paintings to match. if your favourite book has a movie or tv show adaption that you love, he definitely painted your favourite scene. although he’s not an avid reader, bachira will listen to your attempts to summarise a recently-read novel, even if he’s not quite following by halfway through.

୨୧ * he also only sporadically posts on his socials, but when he does, it’s usually random shitposts or spam posts of the two of you together. maybe at a gig or at a bookstore, but they’re all ‘artistically’ blurry. still, both of your smiles are clearly visible despite the lack of phone camera focus.

chigiri hyoma! ˖♡ ࣪‧♫ ₊˚໒꒱⋆✩

୨୧ * if you tell me this man wouldn’t date a a fashion magazine editor!s/o, you’re lying. he’s such a princess, and i can just imagine him as being a passionate fashionista as well, so i think he’d suit someone with a similar love for and knowledge of style. bring this man to fashion week please. actually, he probably met you there. he defo also impulse buys designer, whether it’s bags, clothes or just a pair of shades. he’s a diva like that /hj

୨୧ * shopping is a battle to the death between the two of you on which store to go in next. there’s not enough hours in the working day to account for your retail therapy sessions, given how long the two of you spend browsing the aisles together. at some point you panic, wondering where you’ve misplaced $500 of clothes, until your boyfriend rolls his eyes and shakes the bags he’s holding. you don’t even remember giving him the bags.

୨୧ * the two of you definitely rate and critique met gala outfits together. contrary to what most may believe, it is a NEED, not a want. when someone comes wandering onto the red carpet dressed in this year’s fashion monstrosity, just know that the two of you will be referencing it for days if not weeks, because really, how could anyone have the guts to go out wearing that?

୨୧ * just hope that you’re good with hair, because this fussy princess isn’t going to let you within ten feet of his if you have a brush in hand and you aren’t. his hair is his prized possession for all that he does the bare minimum to look as dazzling as he does, and chigiri would rather not ruin it. but if you’re good at elaborate and pretty hairdos, just know that his winding down comfort time is letting you try out new styles, strands of pink dancing over one another as they’re weaved into place by your fingers.

kunigami rensuke! ˖♡ ࣪‧♫ ₊˚໒꒱⋆✩

୨୧ * kunigami’s so highschool sweethearts-coded. maybe you started dating before blue lock and persevered through his change in persona, knowing full well that his kind and hardworking self was still present under the gruff, cold exterior. maybe he pined after you hopelessly for years until stumbling upon you years later. either way, he’s been madly in love with you since your high school days, and don’t think he’ll ever stop.

୨୧ * but like oh my god, this man would SO date a kindergarten (or elementary school) teacher!s/o. someone who is doting and good with kids, but is also hardworking and knows how to reward people efforts or work on their lack thereof. maybe it’s his superhero agenda but i think early years teachers are heroes in themselves, teaching young children valuable life lessons and basic skills and subjects, and therefore i think kunigami would really suit a teacher!s/o.

୨୧ * bring this man to meet your students and give them an assembly on how taking care of themselves plus hard work are the keys to fulfilling their dreams. the way these kids would be screaming because their sweet, humble teacher is dating football phenomenon kunigami rensuke, and he’s here to tell them that alcohol and nicotine addictions aren’t healthy. plus, eat your greens, kids. you’ll become a superhero in no time.

୨୧ * kunigami is either hopeless at cooking, five star michelin-worthy malewife chef material, or, the most boring option, the most mid chef of all time. ‘mid’ as in, he can put together a decent meal but nothing mindblowing, only occasionally tries to cook something new. i like to think that as the middle child, his older sister is a lost cause when it came to cooking, and his younger sister is quite the closet gourmet, so he knows how to cook pretty damn well. just know that after a long day, if he’s home earlier than you, you can expect an array of delectable dishes and the most delicious feast you can imagine waiting for you.

mikage reo! ˖♡ ࣪‧♫ ₊˚໒꒱⋆✩

୨୧ * i feel like reo would date someone who is far from having grown up well-off, maybe someone who grew up with difficult domestic circumstances, someone who’s fought tooth and nail to reach where they are today. for this reason, i feel like he’d date a corporate ceo!s/o. he admires how you’re both self-assured and self-made, and how your success bloomed from your own efforts and skill. to reo, who’s grown up with privilege and wealth without ever really having to try before he found football, he can’t help but find your work ethic and resilience attractive. they say confidence is attractive, after all.

୨୧ * he loves to spoil you, but he definitely doesn’t buy your love. while a good portion of his gifts to you do involve a waving of his black card, and are often designer, he also likes the authenticity of doing something for you. after all, with all the money in the world, he worries material goods may seem like half-assed presents that can’t even convey half of his feelings towards you. especially a ceo!s/o, because he’d hate for you to feel belittled by his love just because he was born into money. that won’t do at all! so now reo invests a lot of his spare time learning to do things himself, so that he can then do those things for you.

୨୧ * one of those things was pottery. prior to the two of you moving in together, he had been taking classes on ceramics and pottery so that he could surprise you with his hand-crafted and painted dining set. plates, mugs, bowls—each of them were painted with motifs relevant to places you’d been together. from the tropical beaches of bali, to the mountain views of peru and even the most famous italian vineyards—every plate was painted to bear some resemblance to the backgrounds of photos you’d taken at these locations. after all, reo is quite the globetrotter, because he loves going on adventures with you.

୨୧ * but sometimes the best days are days when you can laze about together. listen, reo’s always been the type of guy to never have a moment of rest. he always had so many things to do, because he was so good at everything that people usually required more of him. not that it was impossible for him, but it did mean a lot of his life was always scheduled out, busy and hectic. that’s why reo relishes in the moments where can relax in your arms, away from prying eyes, the paparazzi, the outside world—he loves how you can make a day full of nothing everything to him.

© velchronica 2024

[alotofpockets]

Loved | Alessia Russo

Pairing: Alessia Russo x Williamson!Reader

Summary: During your concert you surprise your girlfriend with the song that you wrote about her.

Masterlist | Woso masterlist | Words: 2.2k

You loved being on tour, playing your music for your fans, and traveling the world at the same time. However, there was also a downside to this part of your career. You had to miss your favorite people for long periods of time. Of course, there were many facetime calls with them, but it wasn’t the same as having them beside you. There were only a few shows left on your European tour before you’d fly back home to London, where you’d perform your final show at The O2. 

While on tour, you used every moment that you weren’t performing or out exploring the cities you were in on writing new songs. Being away from your loved ones sucked, but it also helped you in your songwriting. Your thoughts often on the memories you created with them. Right now you are strumming rhythms on your acoustic guitars, as your mind wanders to the first time that you met your girlfriend.

It was a little over three years ago. You arrived at your shared home with your sister around 2am, after being on tour. Leah had insisted on picking you up from the airport, but you declined time and time again, since you knew she would have training in the morning. After leaving your bags in the living room, you quietly made your way over to your bedroom. Upon entering you noticed that your sister was sound asleep in your bed. You didn’t think much of it, maybe she just missed you. So, you head over to her room but when you opened the door slightly, you noticed that her bed was occupied. It was too dark to see who it was, but you softly closed the door to Leah’s bedroom and made your way back to your own. After finding some clothes to sleep in, you slipped into your bed beside your sister. The moment that your head hit the pillow, you were gone, the tiredness of touring catching up to you.

From the first moment you met Alessia in person, the two of you connected instantly, as Leah had expected. During the lunch you had gotten to know Alessia a bit, as well as told them all about your tour. Alessia moved out about a week later, finding a nice apartment a few blocks over. Leah had been with Arsenal for years, and her teammates were as much her friends, as they were yours. So, like always, you met up with the girls often, getting closer and closer with Alessia as the months went by, until eventually she had asked you on a date. 

Your night wasn’t long, as Leah’s 6am alarms woke you abruptly, “Leah, please shut that off.” Leah jumped at the sound of your voice. “Don't ever scare me like that again.” She said with a warning look. You simply shrug, “You’re the one in my bed.” Leah quickly turned off the loud ringing of her alarm and fell back on the bed hugging you tight. “I can’t believe you’re back, I’ve missed you so much.” You smile into her shoulder, “I’ve missed you too, Leah.” Your sister is about to get up when you pull her back down, “Are you not going to tell me who the girl sleeping in your bed is?” Leah rolls her eyes jokingly, “Of course I was, I just figured you wanted to sleep some more first. Her name is Alessia Russo, she-” You interrupt her, “Just joined Arsenal.” You were an avid football fan, and just like Leah, your favorite team had been Arsenal from a young age, so even when you were away you kept taps on your team. Leah nods, “Yeah, I told her she could stay here until she finds a place of her own, which worked out great because the house was feeling rather empty without you here.” You act hurt, “You just replaced me?” Both of you laugh, basking in the feeling of being together again. “How about after practice the three of us get lunch together, so I can introduce the two of you properly?” You nod with a smile, “That sounds nice.” Leah changes into her training gear before heading downstairs, you hear her and Alessia talking faintly but soon fall back asleep, not even hearing them leave. 

The first few months of dating Alessia were on your mind as you worked on the song. You both had to learn to speak each other’s love languages, as they were different from each other. Even while figuring out how to best show your love to the other, you felt nothing but love in whatever way Alessia showed it. You start testing out some lyrics, writing down the ones you like. When you had the general idea of the song figured out, the lyrics came easy, as did your love for Alessia. 

Before your flight back to London, you finished up the rough version of the song, and could not wait to sing it for Alessia. From the airport, you went straight to Colney, knowing the team’s training session was in progress. You stand to the side of the field as you watch the girls play, having gone unnoticed so far. When the whistle is blown to signal that their drill is done, Alessia is the first to notice you. She comes running your way and jumps into your arms. “You’re back!” You hold her tight and spin her around. “Hi, Lessi baby, I’ve missed you.” After putting her back down you share a short kiss before Leah joins in on the hug. Alessia stepped aside, but not going far, to give you a moment with your sister. One by one all the girls came to greet you, before heading back to training. Alessia kissed you once more before returning to training too, a “I’m so happy that you’re back.” Shouted your way from the striker that was running back to the field.

Once training was over, you headed back home. You still lived in the same apartment as three years ago, the only difference was that Alessia had moved back in, now sharing your room. Leah and Lia offer to pick up something for lunch, while you and Alessia have a moment together. You take her up to your shared room, and ask for some much needed cuddles. 

When you hear the front door open, you head downstairs to have lunch all together, and spend a couple of hours catching up. You check your phone to see the time, “Oh, I have to go in a bit for sound check. Leah, how many of you were coming tonight?” Leah starts counting on her fingers, “Let’s see, so it will be us three, as well as Beth, Kim, Laura, and Jen. So, that’s seven, for sure and a few of the girls weren’t sure yet. Can you put us down for twelve to be sure?” You smile, feeling grateful for how many of your friends were going to be able to make it. “Of course, I’ll see you guys there.” You hug Leah and Lia, before you kiss Alessia bye. 

Performing in your home country was always very special, it was also your favorite place to sing your song ‘Home’. “Thank you all for an incredible night so far.” You say looking out into the crowd. “As many of you know, London is very special to me. London is home.” The crowd erupts in cheer as they know what is coming next. “It’s an extra special evening, as there are a lot of people here tonight, that make London a home.” You look over to the friends and family section where your friends are gathered. “You know who you are.” The smile on your face grows when you see the girls cheering back at you.

You start strumming your guitar, “This is ‘Home’, hope you enjoy it.” The rest of the band joins in. 

‘Cause they say home is where your heart is set in stone

It’s where you go when you’re along

It’s where you go to rest your bones

It’s not just where you lay your head

It’s not just where you make your bed

As long as we’re together, does it matter where we go?

You step away from the microphone, letting the crowd sing the rest of the chorus for you.

Home

Home

Home

Home

You continue the rest of your show with a few more songs from your setlist, as well as more interaction with the crowd, soaking in the last concert you’ll be giving for a while. The evening was coming to an end, having played the last song on your setlist but you weren’t done yet. “Everyone, can we get a big round of applause for Jimmy on the drums, Sarah on guitar, Brian on keys, and last but not least, Mandy on base?” You bow to them, as the crowd claps and cheers for them. The band makes their way off-stage, and you pick up your acoustic guitar for one last time this evening.

“I have one last song for you.” The enthusiasm from the crowd was immaculate, and you hadn’t even told them the surprise yet. “So, I have written a song over the past couple of days, and I would love to play a little bit from it for you tonight.” After the crowd calmed down again, you continued. “I have literally just finished this, it has not yet been recorded, and no one has heard it yet. With that being said..” You let your eyes drift back to the friends and family box, “Alessia, baby, this one's for you. This is ‘Loved’ for the first time ever.” You play the first few chords of the songs, while you watch your friends tease Alessia for her jaw dropping at the news. Alessia’s eyes stay focussed on you, as she watches you with a big smile on her face, seeing you become one with your music. Your eyes closed as you were strumming your guitar. Before you start singing, you open your eyes and lock them with Alessia’s.

I don’t need a hundred roses waiting by the front door

I don’t need a fancy house in the hills

You could rope the moon and bring me all the stars in heaven

It won’t change how I feel

Even though the arena was filled with thousands of people, the crowd disappeared around you, as you were singing to just Alessia. A moment you would never forget.

You don’t have to be a modern-day Shakespeare

You don’t have to be anything you’re not

You don’t have to give me diamonds to impress me

Just give me your heart

Make me feel loved, make me feel beautiful

Make me feel dance around the room Cinderella kind of magical

Make me believe that I’m all that you’ll ever need

Hold me close and make me feel a million kinds of wonderful

Baby, your touch, it’s more than enough

Make me feel loved

You were pulled out of your moment with Alessia as the crowd went wild once you finished the song. After taking a bow, you speak your final words to the crowd. “Thank you all so much for making tonight the best ending to an amazing tour. Thank you for coming out!” With that you run off the stage. 

Only a few moments after handing your guitar over to the crew, and another crew member taking your in-ear monitors from you, Alessia came running up to you, and jumped into your arms for the second time today. When you place her down on the ground again, you see tears in her eyes. “I love you so much, that song was amazing, and you are amazing. That was a beautiful performance, and I cannot believe that you wrote a song about me and then performed it in front of twenty thousand people.” You hugged your girlfriend tight. “I love you too. You inspire me everyday, darling. So, I wanted to do something special.” You share a sweet kiss with her, before taking her hand and walking down to your dressing room, where the rest of your friends were waiting.

You were so happy to be surrounded by your favorite people again, soaking in their laughter, smiles and hugs. Some girls wanted to go out for drinks, but you told them you had to rain check, since you were so tired. Alessia picked up on your words and offered to take you home, an offer you gladly accepted. She walked you to her white Mercedes, loving the opportunity to drive you around once again. Her hand was resting on your thigh, as the two of you listened to the radio. 

Back home all you want to do is take a shower and fall asleep in Alessia’s arms. Alessia being the amazing girlfriend that she was, knew exactly what you needed. “Why don’t you head up, baby, I’ll join you in a bit.” She pecks your lips before heading into the kitchen. When you’re done with your shower, clad in sweats and Alessia’s hoodie, you enter your bedroom, where Alessia was sitting in some comfy clothes surrounded by your favorite snacks. “I know you want to sleep, but your body needs some food after all the energy you put into that show.” You smile appreciatively, “You’re the best.” 

After enjoying the food that Alessia prepared, you cuddle into her side. Quickly falling asleep in the arms of your favorite person.  

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[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

How about if Bucky was a police detective or a firefighter and ps!reader was like a baker or a nurse and she either Mets in the ER or her bakery and Bucky has like a girlfriend or someone he’s “talking” to and the someone notices that he goes in to the reader’s job more than usual and the girlfriend then goes to her job and says all this stuff but in the end Bucky and ps!reader end up together. Sorry for the rambling!!! 😅

༉‧₊˚. 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 || 𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬

― pairing: firefighter!bucky barnes x plus size!reader

― summary: falling for your avid customer bucky was never in the cards, but when a woman comes storming into your store calling you names, you began to think that he's not who he says he is.

― warnings: bullying, fat shaming, jealousy, hurt/comfort, stalking, mentions of stalking situations, angst, fluff, suggestiveness at the end, flirty bucky, angst with a happy ending.

― wc: 1482

⋆ a/n: thank you so much for this request! it was nice to work on an alternative universe fic, especially firefighter bucky!

masterlist | AO3

"Good morning sweetness!" Bucky greeted over the sound of your bell hitting the door. You flushed, rolling your eyes as you smiled shyly from behind the counter, brushing some flour off of your hands and onto your apron as you exited the kitchen. "Morning Buck. Same as usual?" He leaned on the glass casings of cupcakes, cakes, cake pops, and other assorted baked treats. Usually, you'd scold customers for dirtying up the glass, but when it came to Bucky, you didn't care.

Bucky was a firefighter with a particular sweet tooth, practically showing up to your establishment almost every day. He was very flirtatious, and heavy on the nicknames as he watched you carefully. At first, the nicknames irritated you, because you thought it was just another man abusing the power of his occupation to catcall a woman, but you saw how kind he was, sometimes even bringing his coworkers Steve & Sam with him. You began to appreciate his arrival, even anticipating his visits whenever you heard the bell sing its similar song.

"So, Doll. I was thinking that maybe you and me could go out to dinner tomorrow night." Butterflies fluttered inside of your stomach at his words, raising an eyebrow as you tried to play your shock off. "Are you asking me out on a date, James?" His grin grew wider as you referred to him as his actual name. "Would that be a problem if I was?" You reached into the casing, pulling out his three chocolate chip cookies he always gets. You knew they for himself, Sam, and Steve. Your heart grew at the selfless act.

"I suppose it wouldn't," You said with faux non-chalance, "Just name the time and place." As you handed him the little baggie full of goodies, you couldn't stop staring at each other with lovesick smiles, even as he left, you burning holes into his muscular back. It was always nice to be able to finish off the day with a smile.

The next day at work seemed to go by too slow for your liking, constantly checking the clock on the wall as you rung customers up.

"Looks like you have somewhere you're eager to be." Your best friend Wanda teased. You rolled your eyes, a tiny grin on your face as you shrugged. "Who knows?" You said playfully. Wanda nudged you with her shoulder, giggling as you feigned annoyance.

Your giggling was cut short by your door hitting the wall, a furious looking woman storming in.

"Which one of you is _______?!" She all but screeched. Your eyes were wide as Wanda rested a hand on your shoulder, giving you a look of concern. "It's okay Wands," You whispered to her, "I got this." Putting on a kind smile, you walked from behind the counter to greet her. This wasn't the first time you had angry customers, but you were always able to calm them down, even coming to an agreement of a refund.

"That's me!" You said with fake enthusiasm. "What can I do for you?" You asked. She just rolled her eyes; her body close to yours as she eyed you up and down. "Stay away from James you fat freak." You could hear gasps come from your customers as your heart fell into your stomach. "I'm not sure I understand what you mean." You said nervously, bile feeling like it was about to rise in the back of your throat.

"What I mean is that he's mine. So, I don't know what you think you're doing flirting with him, but it's got to stop. Now. I'm his girlfriend, and if I ever see you snooping around him ever again, there's going to be some problems." As she stepped closer, you stepped back. "And it's not like he'd ever go for someone as big as you are anyways. Even though he's a firefighter doesn't mean he deals with zoo animals too." She then plastered on a condescending smile. "So, he won't be coming back here anymore. Toodles." With that, she exited out of the store, leaving you standing there utterly humiliated as you tried to wrap your head around what just happened.

Why didn't you say anything? What was she talking about? Bucky had a girlfriend? There were all of these questions swirling in your minds as you felt Wanda's gently hand on your body once more, what she was saying falling on completely deaf ears as you stared at the glass door with your company name on it blankly. All you could do was turn your head to face her with a watery smile. "It's okay, Wands. I'm fine." Despite your words, you disappeared back into the kitchen where you allowed your tears to fall.

You stopped looking at the time, tending to the people that chose to sit in the booths, the college kids that always had study groups there. You knew Bucky was probably waiting for you, but you couldn't find it within your broken heart to care. You had no idea that he was a cheater, the cute — and what you thought was harmless — firefighter turned out to be a total prick. Maybe you got too hopeful. You fell into dark thoughts, ones that you hadn't dwelled on since you were in high school.

You closed up by yourself, bidding Wanda a fruitless goodbye as she held you in her embrace, whispering words of affirmation and encouragement into your ear. Wanda was a good person, the only one that could probably help pull you back from wherever you were falling from.

You were bent over wiping a table when you heard that familiar jingle.

"Sorry, but we're closed," You said, "Come back tomorrow! We open early in the morning." But the door never closed, the bracing breezes brushing up against the naked skin of your arms that your work shirt didn't cover. "I think I already know that." Bucky sounded from behind you. Your whole body froze, your grip on the wet rag tensing as you didn't even bother to look behind you.

"Go away, James." You said coldly. "No." You scoffed and finally turned around. He looked nice, clean shaven, his hair even styled when it was usually always out of place. He dressed up for you.

"I don't go dates with cheaters." You said simply. That made his eyebrows furrow. "Cheater? Doll, I'm single." That made anger bubble deep inside of you. "Oh trust me, I know you're not, because your psycho girlfriend came in my store and humiliated me in front of everyone!" Then, a look of understanding overtook his face, along with one of frustration.

"Goddamn it," Bucky groaned, "Fuckin' Dot." He walked up to you, taking one of your hands in his. You wanted to pull away from him, but the way his callused and worked fingers gripped yours was enchanting. "Baby, that woman... she's—" He gulped. He looked almost anxious. "She's an ex of mine. I broke it off with her and she went psycho. At first, I thought she could just leave me alone, but then... but then she started to stalk me, so I had to get a restraining order against her. It had recently just expired. I figured she had started stalking me again, but I hadn't expected her to be this... to be this bold." He ended with a sigh.

"I'm sorry, _____. I really am. I'm sorry she did that to you, you didn't deserve it. You didn't deserve to be dragged into my shit." You shook your head softly, raising a hand so that it could rest on his now stubble free cheek. "Yes, I didn't deserve it, but you didn't either, Buck. I wish you would have told me about this, yeah, but I understand why you didn't. You wouldn't have scared me away because... because I wanna be with you, and I was really fucking excited when you asked me to go on a date with you." Your thumb caressed his cheek.

He looked at you through his eyelashes, large palms hesitantly landing on your waist, giving you an out to pull away if the gesture made you too uncomfortable. It didn't, instead, it heated up your body, a pleasant warmth settling in your gut at the feeling.

"I would still be willing to go on that date, if you want." You asked. You were scared that he would say no, you did stand him up after all. "Well, the restaurant is closed, but I'm pretty sure that Chinese place is still open. We could order in and watch tv at my place?" You raised an eyebrow at him, smirking. "You're not trying to get me alone so you can get in my pants, are ya, Buck?" You asked playfully. He only chuckled, leaning his head down and brushing his lips against yours.

"It all depends on how you want this night to go."

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Imagine yandere sebastian with a witch darling whos physical appearence is desired by all, she’s kind, very funny but closed off. and she has 3 cats that love her very much. I feel like he would fold lowkey.

Yandere Sebastian Michaelis x Witch Reader with Cats

You’re right he would 

Ciel comes to your residence upon reference

Looking for your expertise in objects bordering the supernatural

Only for the ‘one-eyed’ young master to sneeze himself out of your shop

“Sorry, darling my cats practically rule this property. It’s probably best you don’t come lest your allergies lead to premature death.”

“Fear not, for I will happily represent my master in his investigation. Now, is this fellow on your shoulder a Maine Coone?”

“Oh, he is! Would you like to hold him?” 

“I’d be honored!” 

You two click right away 

As avid cat lovers, Sebastian always joins you when you coo about your kittens

But aside from your love for cats, he’s bewitched 

Your beauty both inside and out unknowingly stokes the fire of his love

And when he loves he loves hard

He makes sure you know it

He refuses to pull back on his flirting 

“This is a resilient type of mineral that would fetch a high price on the black market…It also is a dazzling complement to (Y/n)’s eyes.”

“Oh uh, thanks?” “Sebastian.”

“Would you like this on a ring?”

“Sebastian!” 

“Apologies young master, let's continue.”

While he doesn’t hesitate to sing his praises and desires for you

He also doesn’t keep his more demonic tendencies silent either

Much to everyone’s detriment 

“Your bluntness is appalling for a noble of your stature. And I’d advise you to refrain from such vulgarity in the future…that is if you value your life.” 

Forget about anyone trying to destroy you because he’s pursuing you (Grell)

He knows who they are and as the Phantomhive butler its in his nature to be proactive about possible threats

“Now now die quietly; I can’t have my beloved witch be afraid to reciprocate my love because of you.”

[bloompompom]

Your Boyfriend Eren

♡ content: eren jaeger x female reader. domestic au/established relationship, very fluffy & smutty narrative-style headcanons (is that a thing?), 'baby' as a pet name, some possessive language/behavior, rough sex, explicit sexual content, explicit language. as always, reader discretion advised. ♡ word count: ~3k (this was supposed to be short but... you know)

The thing about your boyfriend Eren was...

He was absolutely crazy about you. 

Okay. Maybe it was more like you drove Eren crazy. According to him, at least. 

He said it enough that you could now proudly predict exactly when it’d happen again. You’d say it together, with you offering your very best impersonation of his husky voice.

But all that aside, it didn’t necessarily mean he always meant it in a bad way. 

Sometimes Eren said it because he found you so damn distracting; his words, not yours. ‘You drive me crazy,’ he’d say in that cute voice all boys seemed to have—that low chuckle that managed to wiggle its way so deep inside that you could practically feel it vibrating in your chest. 

There were even times when you’d distract him from, well, you—if that made any sense. Eren clung to the specific and excitable waver your voice took on whenever you spoke of your passions. He could come up with cliché after cliché to try and describe it, but none felt apt enough for the honor; all he knew was that he was utterly transfixed by it. But what he loved the most was how you made yourself laugh an embarrassing amount of times per day—something he was sure you’d deny if he ever fessed up about it.

Eren wasn’t good about hiding this inattentiveness of his. He’d always get this blank thousand-yard stare on his face. It was the same sort of avid fascination one would study a painting with, his head tilted and all. 

Truthfully, Eren couldn’t mask any of his emotions. He had always been like that—someone who felt things in a big way—as if he were the living, breathing antonym for stoicism. It left him with no choice but to wear his heart on his sleeve, even if it meant he’d interrupt your ramblings with a kiss because you were that damn distracting. Nothing salacious, just tiny sips of you through chaste pecks.

You’d totally find it inappropriate if he weren’t so endearing about it. You liked the stupidly-smitten grin he’d always sport right after. So easy and disinhibited, like he knew he had gotten away with it because you were already pulling him back for another, notwithstanding the importance of whatever topic was at hand.

Perhaps it was your lips that drove him the craziest. In fact, there wasn’t a single thing he disliked about them. The color, the shape—how beautifully they pulled into your smile—and above all, how soft they felt on his own. It was almost as if they were meant only for him. 

Yeah, to him, they were perfect. 

That was likely the reason why Eren enjoyed watching you get ready. When he could, he’d stop and lean in the doorway of the bathroom, like he was just in time for his favorite show. You’d see him in the mirror, his sultry eyes following your every move as you finished your makeup. He’d marvel at you until you’d finally give in and plant a sticky, lip gloss kiss on him. He never minded, though; it was easy enough to wipe off with just the back of his hand.

But if you took too long, he’d come up and steal one anyway. He always thought he was smooth with it, saying he just wanted to see if your lip gloss had a taste. By then, you both knew you didn’t own any flavored glosses, and you’d remind him of such with a kittenish giggle. And when Eren eventually bought you some—just for him, of course—you already knew he planned to use it as another excuse to kiss you. 

He was also driven crazy by the way he could never keep his hands to himself when you were around. It didn’t matter the time of day, or if he was absolutely exhausted, he still wanted to hold you in any way he could.

He liked the times when he’d catch you drifting off. He’d watch you with sleepy eyes, one arm cradling you with the other letting his fingers delicately trace over your features—from your forehead, down your cheekbone, and across the bridge of your nose. 

Once you were asleep, your eyelids no longer fluttering, Eren would try to stay as still as possible so as to not wake you. It was always a kind attempt, only lasting as long as he was awake. After that, all bets were off, and you’d usually wake up sprawled along opposite sides of the bed. Not to mention, Eren was a complete blanket hog, so you’d usually have to fight his dead weight to steal some back on those extra chilly mornings. 

He was always the handsiest during idle times, like when you’d lay together and watch TV. Picture it: Eren, sat in bed with his back resting against the headboard. You, on your stomach, lounged up at the opposite end of the bed because maybe you knew it gave him the perfect glimpse of your ass. And maybe that was why you chose this specific pair of shorts to sleep in. And just maybe that was why you didn’t complain when he tugged them up a bit higher for a better view. 

His hand would massage up your legs. He’d squeeze at your calf, the back of your thigh, and up the plush of your ass until you’d coyly prop your ass in the air for him. He’d toy with the band of your underwear only because he knew it drove you crazy when he teased you like that. You’d listen when he’d tell you to spread your legs for him. And when he’d eventually ask you, ‘Do you wanna come for me, baby?’ you’d be babbling and begging for him because he’d been playing with you through the fabric of your panties for far too long. 

And only after he’d pull a desperate and enthusiastic, ‘yes, yes, yes!’ from you, he’d fuck you with his fingers. Your face, once sweetly held between your hands, would bury deep into the sheets until you’d come for him as many times as he wished.

But no matter how cool Eren played it, he could never mask how much you riled him up. You could always spot the flush of his cheeks—how the ruddy hue spanned all the way to the tips of his ears—and the sharp stutter of his chest. Heart on his sleeve, remember? 

Eren loved you. The sort of love that required you to spell it with at least three O’s. Loooved you in the springy and boyish way that made a person’s voice go up an octave. High enough to elicit a comment or two from his friends or even his observant mother. 

Knowing him, you’d think he’d hate bringing you around—you know, since he didn’t exactly shrug off said comments easily—but nothing made him happier than seeing you get along with those he cared about most. It warmed him from the inside out and had him gawking at you with the biggest heart eyes ever just because you made his dad laugh. 

It went without saying he was not shy about introducing you to everyone in his life. And when you said everyone, you really meant everyone—no matter how humiliating you found it. After only a few meet-and-greets, you started hearing the same comment over and over again: Eren’s just so much happier now that he’s with you. According to them, he was nothing like the broody guy he once was. You couldn’t even imagine it because the Eren you knew had always talked your ear off. 

But out of everyone, Eren always put you first. It didn’t matter who was around because Eren naturally made you feel like the most important person in the room. Hell, he even managed it when you weren’t in the same room, going as far as to leave boys’ night off no more than a quick text saying you missed him. And if you included a picture of yourself—preferably one that showed a bit more skin—he wouldn’t even need to respond because you knew he was already on his way home. It was something you were quite proud of after all this time together, even if everyone else was sick of it.

So you were sure it didn't come as a surprise that Eren always wanted you at his side when you were out together. Whether it was his arm loosely draped over your shoulder or his chin resting on the crown of your head, he found comfort in knowing you were with him—as if he needed the reassurance that you were still really there.

But, hey, Eren wanted to make sure people knew you were his, considering you had him hopelessly wrapped around your little finger. 

And if you still needed a reminder of who you belonged to, Eren wouldn’t hesitate to jog your memory once he had you back at home and all to himself. Even years later, you still had this indecent game of cat and mouse between you, with you bounding around with your pretty come-and-get-it eyes until he’d rightfully take what was his.

Lucky you—tonight was one of those nights. After a short drive home, your night filled with dinner and drinks, Eren swept you off your feet. Literally. He was fluid in the way he walked around the car and opened your door so you'd flow right into his arms. He didn’t let your feet touch the floor until you were inside and kissed you full on the mouth. Neither of you minded how the other tasted like beer. 

You made out in your living room first—the room you painted together in just one weekend last summer. It was obvious, too. All rushed in the corners and patchy when the light caught it just right—just around four in the afternoon, to be precise. Still, you convinced yourselves you liked it because you had spent even more time trying to compromise on a color. 

The night you moved in, you celebrated laboring the last of the boxes inside by ordering Chinese takeout. You ate on the floor—no, on the rug—together. The brand new one you told Eren you just had to have. The very first purchase for your new home, even before you had a couch. 

Who knew rugs were so expensive? 

You remembered Eren said you drove him crazy that night, too. With a playful growl in his voice as he pinned you down on that very exorbitant rug. The world outside the windows was nothing more than an inky blue. Kisses were broken by laughter and knocking noses, and the brilliant smile on his face melted into that concentrated look he got when he was getting turned on. 

You had sex, right there, to the croony sound of Eren’s record player because he insisted on unpacking it immediately. You slept there, too—under the blankets you had to open four boxes to find—and thought, ‘This must be it.' Everything you ever wanted, laid out in front of you. 

Well, on top of you, but that was getting into semantics. 

After Eren determined you had spent enough time pressed up against the living room wall, he lifted you by wrapping each of your legs around his waist, one at a time. It was tight; the pinching denim of your jeans was far from suitable for the way you were handling one another. Even so, it didn’t dull your fervor. The glowy tingle, sitting in the low part of your stomach, was only ignited once he brought you back in his arms, with yours locked around his neck. 

Eren could carry you wherever he pleased with little effort. This time, it was the bedroom. He laid you back on the bed gently. Under any other circumstances, you would have expected something friskier from him, like a toss, but one of the bedframe's legs had recently broke.

You knew how it sounded when you said that, but it didn’t break in the fun sort of way—more like someone with big emotions flopping dramatically onto the bed, making an already long day even longer. It happened last week, and the temporary solution had been stuffing a few forgotten textbooks underneath.

You viewed the laughable sight with a strange fondness. Who would have thought you’d fall so head-over-heels for a man that you’d find even his most bumbling moments swoon-worthy? 

That wasn’t something Eren needed to know though, so you bit back the smile on your lips and hoped he thought it was because you were just that needy for him.

You were, of course. And now, you were the one that couldn’t hide it. Eren took in the way you ogled at his forearms as he rolled up the sleeves of his black button-down. They were smooth, tanned, and more than strong enough to restrain you any way he desired—as if his prominent eyes, never leaving you once, weren’t already holding you down. 

You stared—with eyes all dreamy and soft—just long enough that Eren wanted to tease you for it, but he had no room to gloat; he was too focused on the straining in his pants, growing more unignorable by the second with you looking feverish and achy right below him. 

Eren kissed you like he wanted to make it a competition of who craved the other more. He cupped your face with his warm fingertips resting behind your ear. His tongue softly met your own and, for a moment, it was like nothing else even fucking mattered.

And when he heard you whisper, “Eren,” against his mouth, he merely nodded into the kiss, already keenly aware of your body and what you were asking of him next.

He kissed the corner of your parted lips. Then you felt him suck at the lobe of your ear. At your neck, Eren only stopped to leave behind a few lovebites, his teeth nibbling all the spots that made you buck against him. 

You bunched your top over your breasts so Eren could continue, his mouth wanton and opening as he kissed from your chest to your navel. It started to tickle, and you reminded him to shave tomorrow through giggles and gasps. Eren didn’t say a thing back, only raising you by the hips so he could rub his face even further into you until he was laughing just as loudly as you.

When he was at eye level with the button of your jeans, he started to help you out of them. His lips followed the fabric down the length of your legs, ensuring not a single inch of your skin went neglected. You squealed and twitched and let the back of your head sink deeper into the mattress as you felt the weight of your jeans slip off your feet. But when you expected to feel his lips at your ankle, you were met with his fingers, wrapped around it like he was inspecting it. 

Eren looked up at you and asked, “Where’s your anklet?”

He was talking about the anklet. The only one you own. The one he bought you as a gift for your first anniversary together. A dainty chain adorned with a tiny letter E that you still wore every day. Almost.

You didn’t think much of it when you sat up to answer, “Oh. I must have forgotten to put it back on after my shower.”

You fell back to the bed thinking he’d promptly go back to kissing you. When he didn’t, you checked on him again only to find the playful mood about him had suddenly shifted. He stood to his feet and, presumably, went to fetch the anklet for you. It didn’t seem all that important to you until he returned with darkened eyes, staring you square in the face as he grabbed your ankle again to latch the flimsy piece of jewelry around it. 

A shudder, innate and teeming with anticipation, wracked through you. You liked, perhaps in a twisted way, when you crossed Eren—how he’d eye you with furrowed brows like you were some defiant little thing. 

He wasn’t taking his time with you anymore. Oh, no—he had both you and himself stripped entirely in a matter of seconds, so quickly that you thought he may have even torn your underwear. Not that it would have been the first time. 

Eren yanked your legs apart and took you in one deep thrust. A shaky, depraved moan ripped through you, eyes prickling with tears as you became tangled up in the knot where pain met pleasure. Unspokenly, he gave you a moment to adjust as he threw your legs limply over his shoulders. When you were ready, he fucked you with your feet framing his pretty face. 

Sure, there were times for slow and deliberate sex, but you both just so happened to like it best when it was like this. It didn’t happen often because, as was already established, Eren didn’t know how to hide his emotions and, holy shit, you drove him insane, actually. He was already prone to abrupt breaks in his composure like—

“Oh, fuck,” he groaned, drawing out the curse as if it were more than one syllable. He kissed your leg, right where your anklet bounced with every snap of his hips, and grunted, "You do know you’re mine, don’t you?”

You could only respond in a vaguely affirmative ‘hmmph!’ because he had your cheeks pinched in his hand, gripping even harder when he commanded, “I want to hear you say it.”

He looked down at you, breathless and bleary, with shimmers of sweat at his temples. The sight bloomed in your chest like fire between your lungs.

“I’m yours,” you tried to say, but the words were barely distinguishable, your voice sounding smushed. Still, it pleased him enough to release your face, and you shamelessly cried out, “I’m all yours!"

“That’s right.” Despite the gruff in his voice, Eren leaned over and kissed your forehead. You felt it in your toes. “This is only for you.”

[wiliowisp]

Sebastian Sallow Headcanons | Pt.2

Part one | Part two | Part three

What Sebastian is like in a romantic relationship:

➻ he has a jealous and possessive streak, for sure, but he's working on it. it comes from a place of trauma and insecurity rather than any malice, and he practices letting his SO be close to people who aren't him.

➻ that doesn't mean it doesn't come out though; especially regarding people like leander, who seem more than happy to be intimately familiar with his lover.

➻ another expression of this is in protectiveness. in any dangerous situation, his priority is the safety of his SO. even if they are more than capable of defending themselves, he would much rather take the hits than have them be in harm's way.

➻ his primary love language is acts of service. he will happily do anything you ask of him and them some. 'i noticed you didn't have breakfast so i bought you some fruit.' 'you need help with your homework? say no more.' 'i picked up a book that can help with that subject you're struggling with.' and more.

➻ that being said, he's clingy. after his parent's death, physical affection was really only for him and anne. now that he has an SO, all he wants is to touch them. in class, his hands are wrapped around them or his leg is pressed up against them. when studying, he'll lean on them or have his head in their lap while reading. if they cuddle him, he'll melt.

➻ he's constantly fighting the urge to kiss his SO. he loves making out, but understands that 24 hours of the day can't be dedicated to it; he also knows himself enough that once he starts, its difficult for him to stop. when they do kiss, it gets passionate—quick. he simply can't get enough of the feeling, like a balloon in his chest, and wants them closer and closer.

➻ he gets devoted, very fast. sebastian isn't a man who does things half-way. within the first few months of courting, he's thinking about marriage. of course, he understands that they're still in school and can't come on too quick, but he's made his mind up before they've even graduated.

➻ he loves sharing good conversation with his SO. topics like deep dives into the origin of magic, or the possibilities of time travel. he's an avid reader so loves dissecting fiction books or poetry; if his SO can meet him halfway and listen to his rambles, he's in love.

➻ dates with sebastian are always very understated. he's not one for big shows of affection and more for practicing love every day. a date can be something as simple as an afternoon walk, or reading a book together. to him, spending time together is the most important aspect, the rest is just ruffles and feathers.

➻ post graduation, proposal is at the forefront of his mind. sebastian is no gentlemen, but concerning marriage he's dedicated to doing it right. he get's anne's approval first—without it, a proposal simply won't happen. then, he gets the approval from his SO's parents or guardians. he wants everything to be perfect, and for once goes above and beyond to make sure his lover knows they're the one.

(i'll probably be doing NSFW headcanons next, so keep an eye out for that hehe)

[illumnis]

your presence is my dream. ― you are the light he follows in the dark to find safety, you are the lighthouse that provides him comfort when he's lost in the cruel sea, you are what he connects to others; the good traits and the bad traits- you are what encourages him to love freely, anything and everything. so what's so bad about admiring an angel at work?

pairing: var!genshin men x gn!reader (seperate!!)

warnings: established relationship, tooth-rotting fluff (unedited!!)

note: i'm writing this on my dad's macbook so this is like foreign ground for me,, the formatting might be a little weird. ALSO i haven't written in a hot min so i'm def going to be out of practice!! i’m sorry in advance if this work is not to my usual standards <;/3

art creds: dannylailai on artstation

it wasn't that your boyfriend was disturbed by the sudden interruption to your date. at first, of course, he was shaken up and slightly disappointed, but seeing the way you lit up was enough to settle his nerves.

your passion, your drive, and the simple notion to never let your love stay caged within a set of limbs, you loved, and freely at that. when he first met you, it scared him a little- how easily you found it to share a piece of your heart with the world. how willing you were to let things break your heart and to forgive because; that will be how it will be.

with you, he learned. with you, the world has become twenty times more colourful (as cliche as it sounds).

despite how much he has learned, to love every piece of the world ardently, he still manages to save the admiration for you.

though, he'll never admit that despite how much he appreciates every patch of grass, or blooming flower, or wise tree, he'll always find you the most breathtaking.

your eyes lit up with fervour- you were reminiscing about something with such passion to your old friend who had welcomingly interrupted his and your date.

he decides to listen in for a moment, still keeping gentle eyes drifting around your face. the curve of your lips, the glisten in your eyes, the tint of your skin.

if he wasn't delighted by you already, now he'd really have a field day.

"yeah! i don't think i missed anything... hey, do you remember anything from our first date that i missed?" you wonder, your head tilting in his direction and looking at him with not-so-sercret admiration.

he felt his heart soar, he tries to maintain his composure with an utterly content smile. he's scared that if he let's his resolve fall, his smile will reach as high as the clouds.

you had been talking about him with that fervour. he had been the reason for the twinkle of mirth in your eyes. he had been the cause of this avid passion.

the two of you stare at each other for a second. you, still expecting a response, hum and tilt your head in anticipation. at the slightest, he let's his smile twitch upwards.

the beat of your heart picks up as you catch his gaze drifting from your eyes, to your lips, and back up to your eyes.

in his eyes, a luster of affection dancing through his irises, which only makes you fight off the reverent grin that tries to mold it's way onto your lips.

he then breaks his gaze, looking over at your friend politely, the same passion you held evident on his eyes, but not his face.

he then looks back at you and once again, his smile grows at the sight of you, "no, i think you covered it all."

— boys who (begrudingly or not) admit that your mere presence is enough to enliven him- or in other words; idiots in love: childe, lyney, tighnari, kaveh, kazuha, wanderer, alhaitham, neuvillette, heizou, zhongli, kaeya, baizhu, albedo, wriothesley (I CAN LITERALLY SEE SO ANY PPL HELP)

navi. mlist.

[strangerhottotties]

Just an Eddie thought. Him calling reader Girl Scout or something similar after realizing why they know all these knots that are definitely not used for their intended purpose…

Not me immediately researching knots and rigging 🤣🤣🤣

The first time it captures his attention is in the upside down, or right before you come out.

"Shit!" Dustin curses for the forth time, trying to tie the sheets together above you. You watch the sheets slip apart as the yank, not holding at all.

"Dustin! Throw them over here!" You finally demand through the chorus of groaning. Dustin glances up at you.

"I can do it!" He yells.

"Dustin! It is cold, and gross, and slimy over here! Throw me the goddamn sheets or so help me, I will climb through it without it and you do not want that!"

Dustin yeilds halfway through your speech, using Lucas to help him haul all the sheets up and throw them through in balls of fabric. Eddie watches with amusement as you don't even stall once, dropping into a low squat to retrieve them. Your immediately not just tying the ends together, but using real knots.

It's a practiced motion. You've done this, he thinks, more than once. There's no hesitation and in under ten seconds you have the first two sheets linked together.

Eddie tilts his head as he watches you tug them tight and slide to the next knot. You barely even looking, still paying avid attention to the conversation around and contributing. You are sparing glances at your hands but in under a minute your launching the rope of sheets into the air and Eddie is wondering to himself, exactly how you knew how to do that.

"Good job, girl scout," he comments and in the dim lighting, he watches as your cheeks darken.

"Uh, yeah. Thanks." You reply, avoiding eye contact.

Eddie knows in that moment. He doesn't have solid evidence, but he knows. You're either a rigger or a rope bunny. At least until everyone's trying to find something in Eddie's music collection that he catches you staring at the cuffs slung on the wall.

It's inopportune to ask further questions for well... nearly the whole day it ate him. And then when he was hot wiring that RV... oh, did he see the way you were looking at him. That far away look in your eyes, he caught in the wide rear view mirror, made him flash pearly whites your way.

When Eddie hops up to allow Steve to drive, climbing into the back he makes a beeline to the seat you're in. As Steve pulls out Eddie's dropping down beside you, and the rough run out of the trailer park has you toppling right into Eddie's lap.

"Sorry! Shit!" You squeak in a way that goes south in the best possible way for Eddie.

"S'okay, Girl Scout," he purrs in your ear. He eats the flustered glare you give him right up as Steve evens the rig out on the road.

"Stop calling me that," you hiss, "I'm not a girl scout."

"Oh," he tells you with a malicious grin, "I know." He leans into your ear. You blink owlishly at him, and loves to watch your face go all horrorish and flushed pink. "But, uh, when this whole thing is over... You'll have to show me the, uh, other knots you know."

"Oh," you repeat and after a beat of silence, "okay," is your response. For a moment, Eddie thinks the universe might be balancing out for all the shit that it's slinging at him.

He spends the rest of the ride to the store with his hand on your thigh.

[to-thelakes]

exhausted

pairing; frank castle x fem!reader (mentions of matt murdock)

summary; after you lose your cool at matt and frank, frank comes to see you and helps you get some much-needed rest

warnings; initial angst, a smidge of hurt/comfort, fluff, domestic frank castle, soft frank castle, exhausted reader, insomniac reader, discussion of nightmares

notes; this one-shot is an oldie but a goodie, i keep reading back and looking at some one-shots i've previously written and i think this one is good enough that i can share it with the world, i wrote it initially with sharing it in mind so i might as well do it! also this one-shot thingie was inspired by a one-shot i saw here on tumblr, the beginning of this is pretty similar to the one i read so if anyone knows what fic i'm referencing, i'd love to be able to credit who inspired this! otherwise, this is just some comforting frank content because i am an avid insomniac and sometimes you just need the big scary punisher to help you fall asleep

masterlist

You weren’t entirely sure how it had happened but at some point between knowing Matt and Frank, you had become their nurse. Of course, you didn’t particularly mind. Matt had always been kind to you and you enjoyed his company. He was a little flirty but you were used to it and you could lament in your misery with him.

With Frank, he had saved you from some criminals months ago and you had been freaking out. He did his best to calm you down before walking you home and after a particularly bad night, Matt brought Frank to you to patch up. Honestly, you didn’t mind their company and you didn’t mind patching them up.

Ever since you’d moved on from being a Nurse, you’d refound your passion for caring for people but only if it was Frank or Matt. But you also hated taking care of them. Despite having a relatively normal life and sleep schedule compared to when you were a nurse, you were still woken up in the middle of the night by them.

It had been a quiet night for you. You’d finished work and curled up on your bed to drift off and you had. It had been a blissful sleep until you were rudely awoken by your phone ringing. You wanted to tell whoever it was to leave you the fuck alone but when you saw it was Matt, you answered. He asked if you could come over and help patch Frank and him up.

You - reluctantly - agreed since he was only a block over. You didn’t want them bloody up your apartment and so with a great huff, you got out of bed. You changed into comfortable clothes and then grabbed your kit for nights like these and headed to Matt’s place.

Getting in wasn’t hard even in your exhausted and sleepy daze. You managed to find your way up to the fire escape where the two men were sitting. Well, Frank was sat, leaning against the vent, cradling a wound while Matt stood. He was pacing in his Daredevil costume and he looked frustrated. It was practically radiating off of him.

They both looked pretty bruised and yet, they were still arguing. It took you a minute to catch on to the conversation but the second you did you sighed.

“You gotta let me do my shit, altar boy. I don’t give a shit what you can sense, I know what I’m doing and we would have been fine if you hadn’t stopped me from doing my goddamn job,” Frank raged as he stared up at Matt. His hand was pressed against the wound on his side and yet his jaw still flexed with obvious annoyance.

“If you had just listened to me then we would have been fine! You never listen, I can hear more than you can. I can hear their guns, Frank. If you had just shut your damn mouth for one goddamn second, it would have been fine!” Matt snapped in response. His annoyance was radiating off of him and you just looked between them. You weren’t entirely convinced that even of them had realised you were there but you knew Matt could smell you.

“I listen fucking plenty. I knew what I was getting my sorry ass into but you just have to be the fucking saviour, don’t you Red? Always a hero,” Frank scoffed. His tone was scathing and he winced when the pain only seemed to get worse. The irritation that Matt waking you up had began only seemed to grow as you listened to them continue to bicker back and forth about who was right and who was responsible for Frank’s wound. And why Red just couldn’t have listened to Frank for one goddamn minute.

It was probably five minutes of bickering and you had finally had enough. You dropped your kit bag onto the floor and suddenly, both of their attentions snapped to you.

“You are both so insufferable!” You snapped suddenly, glaring between the two men, “I get my ass out of bed after working all fucking day for you two to be bickering like three-year-olds over something that doesn’t fucking matter anymore. Take my shit and patch yourself up. I’m done with this.” Your anger only seemed to grow and you watched as both Matt and Frank’s face fell. You stepped back from the pair of them, “Ungrateful bastards,” You muttered as you headed back to the fire escape and towards Matt’s apartment.

“Hey(!), sweetheart,” Frank’s voice made you pause in your steps. If his next words weren’t an apology, you were going to scream, “Don’t gotta be so fucking moody. Didn’t even see ya.” That was it and you turned on your heel to face them again.

“I couldn’t give a shit if you didn’t see me Frank. I know sure as hell that Matt could smell me before I even got onto the fucking roof. And I’m sure his senses will tell him that I haven’t showered in three days because I’ve been so busy with my new fucking workload that I have barely had the chance to take care of myself. This is the first evening that I haven’t had to work late for my asshole boss and I finally managed to get some sleep until you assholes had to wake me up because you can never work together! I honestly don’t care what happens to you next time. If one of you gets bloody and bruised, don’t fucking call me. Lose my number, both of you.” And with that final word, you walked off the roof and down to Matt’s apartment. You felt like crying, the irritation had seeped into frustration and the tears were blurring your vision as you pulled the apartment door open.

“Sweetheart,” Matt’s voice was so soft as he rushed over to you in the doorway. Your head snapped up so that he could look at you or you assumed he was, you could tell where he was looking with that stupid mask on, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have called,” Matt’s voice had softened significantly as he was looking at you.

“Yeah, you shouldn’t have,” You bit back. Matt’s lips turned down into a frown. He suddenly had no idea what to say. He had never seen you like this. Even when you were stressed and overworked as a nurse, you always had this sunny disposition to everything that you did. This was new, he hated it because he knew it was his fault.

“Please, how can I fix this?” Matt asked and you rolled your eyes. The apartment door still open in front of you.

“I told you, lose my number,” You snapped. Matt frowned but before he could even say anything, you were gone. He let out a frustrated huff and he listened as you walked to the elevator and disappeared down to street-level. He didn’t know what to do now.

-

The weekend eventually rolled around and you were relaxing for the first time in a very long time. You were curled up on the couch, watching trash TV with a pizza from your favourite take-out on the coffee table. It was the ideal day.

Well, that was until you heard a knock at your apartment door. A soft huff escaped your lips and you unfurled yourself from your cocoon of blankets to answer it. When you pulled the door open, the last person you expected stood on the other side. Your eyebrows furrowed as you took in Frank Castle in all his broad glory with a bouquet of flowers in his hand. Your favourite flowers no doubt. You didn’t even know what to say.

“Ya said don’t call,” Frank began and then he held out the flowers, “So I came over instead.” There was a slight softness to his words and it made you let out a soft chuckle. You shook your head but took the bouquet from his hands.

“Thank you,” You mumbled before gesturing for him to come in. The trashy TV show you had on was playing as you grabbed a vase from under the sink and ripped the wrapping from around the flowers. You then grabbed some scissors from the drawer and Frank watched as you snipped the ends at a diagonal and placed them into the water before adding the packet of food.

“M’sorry about the other night,” Frank said after a few beats of silence. You shrugged and rearranged the flowers and when you were happy enough with them, you took them over to the windowsill to replace the faux flowers you had put there weeks ago, “I really appreciate everything’ ya do for me,” He said as he watched you move. You shrugged and wrapped your arms around yourself, moving to sit down on your sofa. You didn’t want to have this conversation.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” You said firmly. Frank sighed and he glanced at the door, not sure whether you wanted him to leave or stay. You glanced back at him expectantly and so he walked over, sitting down on the couch beside you. You grabbed a slice of pizza and offered it to him. He found himself smiling as he took it from your hands.

“M’really sorry, I didn’t-” But before Frank could get any further you put your hand up to silence him. Then your gaze turned on him and he looked back at you.

“Frank, I seriously don’t wanna think about it. Just eat your pizza and shut up,” You told him as you reached out for another slice for yourself. He grunted in response and you seemed pleased with that. You shuffled back, pulling blankets over your shoulder with your free hand before you took a bite out of the pizza. Frank was sitting on one of the blankets on the sofa but you didn’t bother to say anything as you ate.

Your gaze was fixed on the TV. There was about to be an elimination from the show and although you didn’t care for many of the contestants, there was one guy that you wanted to get kicked out. He had the most infuriating personality and had treated every girl like an object since he had been introduced. He rubbed you the wrong way and so, you watched with bated breath to see if he would finally be kicked out.

And he was. Frank noticed the victorious grin on your face as he leaned over for another slice of pizza. You let him grab it as you finished your slice off. Then you shuffled on the sofa and adjusted the blankets around your shoulder again.

“You’re not hurt, are you?” You broke the silence between the pair of you. The sound of the TV was the only thing that was filling the air until that. 

He glanced over at you before he shook his head, letting out a grunt of disagreement. You nodded and then pulled the blanket tighter around your shoulder, “I’ve had a really stressful week at work, I’ve not been sleeping well and I thought that when I quit my job at Metro General my late nights would end. That I would be able to sleep properly again. But you and Matt changed that and I don’t mind. I usually don’t mind at all but this week, I just- I couldn’t do it. I had dragged myself out of sleep which I had barely been able to get into and then you both just bickered. And I really don’t mind helping either of you. I like helping you both but I just can’t do it right now.” 

You were rambling, you knew you were rambling but you felt like Frank deserved an explanation. He was injured and you had left him to be stitched up by Matt. It felt cruel but you were also exhausted. Not even by them, just by life. 

“You don’t gotta explain,” Frank said after a beat. You looked up at him, he had a sorrowful look on his face. It was almost guilty-looking and you didn’t want him to feel guilty. A soft huff escaped your lips as you ran your fingers across your face.

“No, I do because I didn’t have to blow up at you guys. I didn’t have to be so rude. I could have just left but I made a scene and it wa-” Frank cut you off before you got a chance to finish your sentence.

“Ya had every right to shout. We dragged you outta bed for somethin’ that we coulda handled on our own. You were angry and shit, I woulda said worse. You can’t bottle that shit up, you know?” He responded as he looked down at you. You let out a soft sigh, running your fingers through your hair. You didn’t know what to even say.

“I’m just so tired, Frank,” You mumbled. It had been weighing on you all week and it was the first time you had let yourself admit it. You were so exhausted. You didn’t know what to do with yourself. The tension in the room seemed to increase tenfold at the submission and Frank was silently observing you as you reached for a pizza slice, hoping to distract your exhaustion-addled mind. It was too much.

“Lie down for a bit, yeah?” He said and you looked up at him, confusion etched across your features. Almost bemused by his words.

“I’ve tried that Frank. Plus, it’s too early,” You mumbled before you took a bite of your pizza. He shook his head and closed the pizza box on the coffee table. He then reached for the TV remote and he switched it off.

“Nah, enough of this shit. We’re gonna lie down and I’ll make sure you get some goddamn sleep. alright?” There was no room to argue with him and as he stood up, looming above you, you weren’t entirely sure you had the bravery to. So, you simply nodded your head. You placed the half-eaten pizza slice into the box and then got to your feet, leaving your cocoon of blankets on the sofa so you could go to bed, “You gonna brush your teeth?” He asked. You nodded your head. Even though you had just eaten, you had to make sure that they were brushed before you went to bed and so, Frank lingered in the doorway as you brushed your teeth, “Red’s gonna give you shit when he finds out about this, sweetheart,” Frank commented off-handedly. You spat some toothpaste into the sink before you glanced over at him.

“He can smell when I last showered, I think he already knows,” You muttered before you finished brushing your teeth. You grabbed the towel and washed the toothpaste off your mouth, washing your mouth out with water before you stepped back. You were already in pyjamas so you were ready for bed.

“Yeah, that’s what he tells ya,” Frank mumbled as you headed towards your bedroom. Frank slipped his boots off at the foot of your bed and discarded his jacket on top of your dresser before he glanced over at you.

“Are you sleeping in the bed too?” You asked tentatively. Frank turned to look at you, cocking an eyebrow.

“That a problem?” He asked curiously. You shook your head and he nodded, “You been gettin’ nightmares?” His question caught you completely off-guard and you just stared at him, dumb-founded from the side of your bed. He huffed out in mild amusement, “You were an ER nurse, gives its own scars,” He shrugged. You sighed and rubbed your hands across your face.

“It’s not nightmares. It’s just not dreams either. I can just hear flatlining and feel blood and I’m running down corridors, plagued by the clean smell of the hospital. It’s sterile and I wake up and I swear I can smell it,” You mumbled, trying your best to explain the experiences. You hated calling them nightmares because nothing scary happened. It was just your feelings and memories of the place you used to love.

“You wake up scared?” He asked as he walked over to the opposite side of the bed. You nodded your head, “Then it’s a nightmare. When did your dirtbag ex break up with you?” You didn’t seem to understand how that correlated but it had been only a month ago. It coincided with the exact time you began to have issues sleeping.

“A month ago. I’ve not been a nurse for months. Why is that relevant?” You asked as you decided to pull the covers back but you didn’t get in.

“You’re sleeping alone, sweetheart. Does things to you especially when you’re not used to,” He stated blankly. It seemed to dawn on you why he knew this and you just stared at him for a moment, not sure whether to apologise or offer sympathy but he didn’t give you a chance, “Now let’s get you some sleep, hm?” You smiled thankfully and slipped under the covers. Frank slipped under them beside you and you pulled them up to your shoulder.

Then you grabbed onto the pillow, adjusting it under your head. Frank was facing you, his hands resting in front of him as yours rested under your head. He watched you adjust and get comfortable before you let out a sigh.

“I always hated sleeping alone,” You mumbled after a moment of silence, “When I was a kid, my little brother would always get nightmares and so we’d sleep in the same bed. Then, by the time he had grown out of that habit, I was old enough that I was going to high school and my parents began to - reluctantly - let my partner stay over. Then, I went to college and I basically spent every night with someone in my bed whether that was a friend or someone I was dating. I never really got used to sleeping alone, I guess.” Although Frank didn’t have the exact same feeling as you as he had slept alone plenty of times while he was on tours, he understood what you meant. After he lost Maria, he found it impossible to sleep alone. The nightmares tormented him. It got better with time but never really truly better. It’s the main reason why he pushed his body to the point of collapse. Then he didn’t have to worry about trying to fall asleep alone. It just happened because his body didn’t give him a choice. You had started to do the same.

“Just try and get some sleep tonight, yeah?” He suggested. You nodded and you let your eyes fall closed. He shifted on the bed before he let his eyes close as well. You sighed and felt your eyes forcing themselves back open. They didn’t want to stay closed and after a few more minutes of desperately trying to keep them closed, you rolled onto your back.

And you stared at the ceiling like you had for so many nights over the past few months. You were never able to sleep, when you woke up from sleep, you just stared. You had memorised every crack in the shitty ceiling and now there was nothing new to look at. You didn’t know what was wrong with you but you hated it.

“Hey,” Frank said softly. It was so quiet that you almost missed it and then you turned your head to the side to look at him, “You gotta tell me what ya need if I’m gonna help,” You knew what you needed but you weren’t about to ask Frank for it. This was already crossing the bounds of your friendship and you felt almost disrespectful even doing this but he seemed insistent. His eyes were burning into the side of your head.

“My ex used to…” You trailed off, not sure whether to say it. Frank grunted in a somewhat encouraging way as he shuffled towards you, “They used to cuddle with me when I couldn’t sleep and they’d… God I can’t ask this of you.” You cut yourself off before you could finish your sentence. Your hands pressed over your face, embarrassment flooding your face in the form of heat crawling up your neck and across your cheeks. This was too much.

“Hey, hey, listen to me,” He brought your hands away from your face and you turned to look at him, meeting his soft gaze, “I don’t give a shit if it’s embarrassing, tell me.” His words were firm and you sighed, taking a deep breath before you turned over onto your side so that you could look at him properly again.

“They’d like hold me against their chest, like my forehead against their chest and then they’d run their fingers across my arm. It just always relaxed me,” You finally admitted. Frank smiled softly, not even caring what you were asking of him. Instead, he shuffled forward on the bed and brought you towards him.

“Come ‘ere,” He mumbled. You shuffled into him and with a tentative breath, you rested your forehead against his chest. One of his hands rested under his head while the other moved to rest against the back of your arm. He drew you closer and you gave in, letting your body mold against his. His fingers slowly began to trace along the skin on the back of your arm.

A soft breath of relief escaped your lips, the familiar touch cooled your nervous system in seconds. Your eyes fell closed, tension releasing at the movements as you moved your arms around Frank. Your hand draped over his hip as you felt exhaustion return to your body after you had fought it away all day.

“Thank you,” You muttered under your breath. Your voice was slower than before, sleep ready to take you as you relaxed into his hold.

“Sleep well, sweetheart,” He mumbled against your hair as he rested against you. His touch against your skin was the last thing you remembered before the bliss of sleep took you in.

<3

[astroboots]

EVERY YOU EVERY ME #10

COLLABORATED WITH @THIRSTWORLDPROBLEMSS

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x female reader

Summary: Miguel tries to rob a superhero and you try to stop him.

Word count: 5,750

Series Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist | Astroboot’s Masterlist | thirstworldproblemss’ Masterlist

[Previous] [Next]

It’s another mundane morning in your office. You’re hiding away in your cubicle with your breakfast croissant and coffee, scrolling the news on your phone. 

Ever since the cosmic murder attempts have started, reading news hasn't been the same for you. It’s no longer a case of innocently keeping up to date with current events. Because now you can’t read the sensationalist headlines without a small pang of guilt that you may have been the unwilling root cause for so many of them. 

‘Apocalyptic blizzard in August.’ 

‘Stampede escape from Brooklyn zoo.’ 

‘Freak electric storm causes wide city blackout’. 

It’s all just too macabre for you this early, it’s not even 10am. Your eyes flicker down, only skimming to make sure that there has been no casualties involved with each incident before scrolling away again. Then you opt for the technology section instead. Hoping it is a little bit less catastrophic and kinder on your nerves. 

‘Tony Stark’s Arc Reactor Returns Home to Stark Tower.’

Your fingers pause at the headline. Stark always makes for a good read and good gossip, you think to yourself as you take another sip from your morning coffee and start to read:

‘Tony Stark, the notorious billionaire philanthropist and avid Star Wars memorabilia collector, has announced his decision to move his iconic arc reactor back to his home in New York City. The self-sustaining fusion power source kept Stark alive during the infamous hostage incident where he was captured and detained in Afghanistan by the Ten Rings terrorist organization’.

‘Self-sustaining fusion power source…’ you repeat the phrase in your head, parsing over the words. Why does that sound so familiar to you? 

You read it again, and this time instead of your own voice, the memory of Miguel’s sleep husked voice fills your ears: 

“Your world is not technically advanced enough for me to build an upgraded self-sustaining fusion power source that would be needed.” 

Adrenaline buzzes bright in your brain, and you stand up from your desk so fast you nearly knock over your chair.

Finally! It’s the Eureka moment you have been waiting for all this time. 

You peer over the cubicle wall, scanning the room for Miguel. It doesn’t take you long at all to spot him; his oversized frame is hard to miss. Besides, even if you couldn’t see him, you’d be able to sense the anger vibrating off of him a mile away. 

In the corner at the far end of the open-plan office, Miguel is abusing the poor printer again. He’s cramming a fistful of papers into the feeding slot like it’s a duck he’s trying to force feed to make foie gras, and judging from the vein straining on his forehead, the man is about two seconds from lifting the 50 pound machine and launching it out through one of the building’s windows.

You shake your head at the scene. You don't understand how someone so smart, so intelligent, so apt with technology—he built an A.I. so advanced it would make the most high tech of Stark Industry's prototypes look like a kindergartener's chicken scrawl—can be so inept when it comes to dealing with a basic printer. 

“Miguel,” you whisper loudly, and despite the fact that he’s on the other side of a bustling office, he immediately turns to look at you. 

You beckon him over, practically bouncing with excitement as you wait for him to cross the room, and as soon as he’s within reach, you stand on the tip of your toes and cup a hand around his ear so you can covertly whisper the news of your discovery. 

“Stark has an arc reactor.”

You’re beaming with pride that you’ve found a solution to your dilemma, and look up at Miguel expectantly for him to celebrate with you and maybe even praise you. 

Instead, he looks down at you without reaction. “What’s Stark?” 

"Wait, are you serious?" 

You almost think he’s doing one of his sarcastic comedic bits with you, but the angle of his right eyebrow, raised in cluelessness tells you otherwise.

"How do you know so much about Dr. Strange, but not know who Tony Stark is? He’s like the main Avenger."

Miguel merely shrugs at you. "Avengers aren't really a thing where I'm from."

You shove your phone into his hand and watch as his eyes flicker over the screen, reading through the article in a matter of a few seconds. When he’s done, he places the phone back on your desk, then grabs your left hand, leaning down as he lifts it up towards him. For a second you think he’s about to kiss your hand.

"Lyla," Miguel announces, and the watch buzzes warmly against your wrist as Lyla's hologram reforms in the small space above.

"Give me the layout of the Stark Tower, identify vulnerabilities in the security system and outline the most optimal entrance points for a break-in."

Did he just say break-in?

"Wait, wait,” you interrupt quickly, trying to defuse the situation, before he gets too far ahead of himself. “Miguel, we are NOT breaking into the Stark Tower."

"How else would we do it?"

“We could just talk to him.  Lyla can hack into his schedule and book us a meeting with him, right?”

“And then what?”

“We’d ask him to help us?” you suggest, not understanding why he skipped straight over the most obvious answer and went right to breaking and entering. Though from the way Miguel is staring at you in blank confusion you may as well have spontaneously grown horns on your head. 

“...Nicely,” you add, in case that wasn’t already clear.

“Because that would require us to talk to him. He would just say no, Cielito. I’d prefer to break in. Cleaner that way. More efficient. Easier.”

You can’t believe this man just admitted to being so socially awkward he thinks committing a felony is easier than having to hold a conversation with a stranger. 

"Asking is pointless. No scientist is just going to hand over something like an arc reactor to a couple of strangers because they asked nicely. Besides, even if we arrange a meeting with him by hacking into his calendar, he’ll know something is up the moment he sees us. You’ll just wind up getting thrown out by security.”

Ok maybe he has a point there. 

"What if we tricked him? Made him think we have something he wants?”

"Like what?"

"Stark collects rare Star Wars collectibles. We can lie and say we're collectors with a rare piece to sell like the Kenner Star Wars Boba Fett prototype?"

His right brow raises at a skeptical angle and he’s staring at you like you’re speaking a foreign language. 

"Cielo, that's insane."

You bristle at that. 

"How is your idea any better?" you demand.

"A break-in wouldn't require much effort or rely on the goodwill or stupidity of someone else. It’s much easier–"

“You’re talking about breaking into the personal home of an Avenger!” you interrupt because you’re not listening to any more of his madness, “He’s arguably the smartest member of a team made up of the mightiest heroes on Earth, and you want to try to steal from him, Miguel!? That is not easier!”

The office has gone alarmingly quiet around you. You look around to see that your heated discussion is gaining unwarranted attention from the rest of the office. All of a sudden, the endless click and clack of the keyboards stop. 

You give your curious coworkers a strained smile, then lean up close to Miguel again, muttering under your breath. “We’ll discuss this when we get home.”

Miguel doesn’t say anything else, but you can feel his eyes pinned to your back as you walk to your chair and sit back down at your desk to finish your croissant in two mouthfuls, chugging down the remainder of your coffee. 

An hour before noon, Miguel comes to your cubicle. He sets down a lunchbox and from the logo on the plastic grocery bag you can tell that it’s from your favorite Bodega round the corner. 

“I have a quick errand to run for work at lunch. I’ll be back within the hour,” Miguel tells you, “Lyla will guard you, and if something happens she’ll alert me immediately. Don’t go anywhere.”

You look up from your screen to see him stand over your desk with that passive expression etched onto his stoic face, as if there is nothing out of the ordinary. 

In the last month, Miguel hasn’t let you out of his sight for longer than a handful of minutes (primarily to get more snacks when they run out).

Miguel thinks he’s being so slick. It’s insulting to your intelligence that he thinks you don’t know what he is up to: he’s obviously going to spend his lunch hour trying to rob Tony Stark. 

But that’s fine, you’re not going to openly question Miguel on his suspicious behavior. If he’s not here that means you are free to get up to whatever you want. 

… Including approaching a certain multibillionaire that has the one item in his possession that could save both your life and the universe as you know it from collapsing.  

It’s why you wave at him as he makes his way to the exit and pay close attention to him leaving through the front glass door and take the elevator down to the ground floor. Then for good measure you wait another five minutes to make sure that he will fully be out of hearing range with his super-senses before you raise your wrist to your face. 

“Lyla,” you whisper. 

“Hello, boss girl! Wasssuuuup,” she greets, elongating the word sassily for comedic effect, and you can’t help but smile. 

Lyla, as entertaining as she is, is an enigma to you. You don’t understand how Miguel with his short patience-span and entirely lacking sense of humor would have programmed this A.I. to have this kind of personality. Not to mention a deep archive of a millenial’s pop-culture media reference from this dimension.  

“What can I do you for?” Lyla asks, shooting you gun-fingers with a cheeky flare. 

You part your mouth, but hesitate to make the request. 

This is illegal isn’t it? Hacking into someone’s calendar to arrange a meeting with them under false pretenses. God, what if you get taken away in handcuffs within the first 30 seconds of entering the building, featured on Deuxmoi as a crazy stalker fan. 

So far the only “illegal” thing you’ve used Lyla for is to generate Netflix passwords and hack into HBO Max to watch Succession. This is a significant next level step. 

Maybe you should run downstairs and catch Miguel before he leaves the building? You could plead your case again. Try to reason with him that breaking and entering isn’t the way to go about it and the two of you should approach Tony Stark by having a mature and adult conversation. 

Yeah. Right. You snort even as you think it. Miguel is never going to be persuaded on this point and you are quickly running out of time. There’s only one thing to do: 

“Lyla, can you please arrange a lunchtime meeting for me with Tony Stark today.”

The lobby of Stark Tower is much like any other commercial buildings you’d find in the Financial District. Heck, it's not that much different from the one you navigate every morning at the Chrysler building. If anything, the only surprise is how ordinary the Stark Tower is.

When you enter the main lobby, you have to sign in with a stern but clearly bored security guard, then use the guest security pass you’re given in order to access the elevators.

Once you reach the 90th floor, there is a distinct lack of staff up there. Only a single, sweet-looking old man, with a well trimmed mustache above his upper lip. He's swathed in a soft-knitted cardigan and wearing gigantic vintage-styled sunglasses indoors that make him appear bug-eyed as he peers up at you and walks with you to another set of elevators using a retinal scan for security and sends you on your way. 

The door closes around you in the metal box, with a swift jump to the 91st floor.

When the door finally slides open it feels like you’ve entered another world. Minimalistic opulence is the keyword for it. There are windows along the entire space. A 360 view of the New York landscape and you almost feel like you are at an Aquarium with the amount of glass surrounding you. There’s pieces of half-built tech and prototypes everywhere. Imagine having so much money that you can allocate a whole floor of a manhattan skyscraper to essentially be your garage workshop. 

“So you’re my 1pm that magically appeared today,” a happy-go-lucky voice sings out. 

You jump in your skin, breaking your concentration from the view, as you turn around to see the infamous man of the hour standing behind you. 

“Gotta say, when I was envisioning the sort of person who might be selling me a Kenner Star Boba Fett figure, I did not imagine a gorgeous knock-out,” he says, with an outstretched hand as he greets you.  

Tony Stark is shorter in real life. Less formal than in the gettymarked photos you’ve seen of him at red carpet events and fancy galas, dressed up in the most tailored fit suits that money can possibly buy. He’s also a lot more charming than in photos. All big brown eyes, and pouty lips. He might be half the size of Miguel, but Tony Stark has more than enough charm and confidence to make up for it

“Let’s go somewhere we can talk.” 

He is quick witted banter and dazzling diamond smiles as he shows you the residential suite of the Stark Tower. His hand rests on the side of your waist as he guides you through the long hall, making strong eye contact all the while down the hall. 91 floors up and you cannot hear a hint of the chaotic traffic noise downstairs, it’s oddly quiet save for the faint scratching noises you hear from the ceiling. (Guess even Stark towers cannot escape the city’s rodent issues). 

“Anyone ever told you, your eyes really sparkle?” Stark says, as his hand slips from your shoulder to rest at the small of your back. “You’ve got this whole Disney princess thing going on. I dig it.” 

Wait, is he flirting with you?

Tony Stark, Chief Executive Officer of Stark Industries. One of the top 20 richest men in America (according to Forbes). A man who can afford to buy the whole of planet Mars is flirting with you. 

God, you are already seeing dollar signs. Lobster. Caviar. All the rare exotic and poisonous puffer fish sushi you've only dreamed of eating. You've always wanted to be a gold digger, you've just never been close enough to a gold mine.

Maybe this will be easier than you thought. If he likes you, maybe you can just flirt your way into getting the arc reactor. Ask him to lend it to you. 

The two of you make your way past the glass doors and into another imposing large room, bare and minimalistic. Oddly, it feels dimly lit, given the size of the windows in the room. 

It’s the size of the front lobby of your office building, and you realize halfway through that this room serves no other purpose except to store more of his junk. There are half built machines piled up in every corner. Boxes and boxes of tools haphazardly strewn across the room. It’s an outrageous waste of prime New York real estate that speaks to the man’s wealth. 

In the middle of the room, there’s a silver medal that glows an eerie blue in the middle, encased in a display case. With the way it sparkles, you could almost mistake it for a precious aquamarine gemstone the size of your fist. 

“Wow, is that the arc reactor?” you ask. 

Stark doesn’t answer. Suddenly his chattiness is nowhere to be found, and as you turn to look at him you notice he’s not paying any attention to you. His eyes are fixed on the ceiling behind you. 

You whip your head around and follow his gaze to see the familiar blue super-suit trailing behind you. The unmissable angry red spider embellished across his wide chest, as he hangs upside down like a cat burglar. 

Has he been trailing behind you since you got here? Was that what the noises were?  

Air whizzes through the space and the force of it reverberates across your cheek. A piece of red armor flies through the air and attaches itself to Stark’s arm. 

You’ve seen enough highlight reels of Iron Man on the news channel to know what it means. 

“Wait wait wait,” you shout out as you step in front of Stark in mid-transformation. 

You fling your hands up high in a gesture of a white flag to de-escalate the situation. “This isn’t what it looks like!”

Stark’s eyebrow quirks up, tipping his head sardonically. "So your costumed sidekick hasn't been stalking us this entire time? Breaking and entering, not just into my tower–which is private property, by the way–but also bypassing security to access my private office? Yeah, I'm sure your intentions are entirely on the level."

Despite the sarcastic hostility in his tone Stark hasn’t summoned the rest of the armor. The rest of his iron suit is suspended in the air on standby two feet away. He’s only got the arm piece strapped to his arm as insurance and is clearly willing to give you at least a few seconds of a benefit of a doubt. Long enough to hopefully explain yourself and not start a Superhero brawl.  

“He’s not dangerous,” you say, and the moment you say it, you want to kick yourself because of how suspicious that makes you sound. 

You turn your head around to Miguel who’s done an aerial somersault with the grace of a ballerina despite his build and soundlessly landed back onto his feet on the ground. 

“I can’t believe you went behind my back! We agreed to put a pin in this and wait to deal with Stark until we agreed on a plan. You said you weren’t going to break in!”

His masked eyes narrow into accusing slits, “Yeah? And what are you doing here then?” 

“Stopping you before you do something stupid!” you hiss. 

Before Miguel has a chance to retort, there is a loud clap from behind you that redirects both your attentions to Stark. 

“Jarvis, how did our lovely Disney princess make it onto my calendar and how did Hulk Spiderman over here manage to slip past every layer of your security net?”

The voice of a posh British man sounds out across the room but there’s no person attached to it. 

“I can find no record of these events in my logs. Performing internal diagnostics now, Sir.”

“Huh, interesting…” Tony hums to himself in consideration before he turns his attention back to you both. 

“I have to say I'm quite impressed, but I’m hoping for an explanation. Is this a Bonny and Clyde situation? You two lovebirds here to rob me?”

“No!” you both shout in unison. 

“Not lovebirds, got it.”

“That’s not–” Miguel starts, whipping down his head in your direction. 

At the sight of your face, he seems too flustered to continue his train of thought and he quickly looks away from you. “None of your business,” he snaps at Stark. 

You don’t know why, but that dismissive glance from him hurts. Like the very idea that you two would be in a romantic relationship is off-putting to him. It’s kind of insulting. You turn from him, trying to ignore the sharp stabbing ache somewhere in your chest that makes it hard to breathe. 

From across, Stark observes the two of you, whatever he sees makes him tip his head in curiosity. The intense pinch between his brow relaxes and the subtle shift in his expression is like witnessing the moment a shark senses blood in the water, then he grins and turns his attention towards you.

Stark grins, turning his attention towards you. "So you're single then?" 

You peer up at Miguel and hesitate because that’s a damned good question. You of this dimension is certainly single, but there’s another version of you (a dead one) that’s married to the man next to you. 

But that’s not you. 

You turn to Stark, "Yes," you answer.

Miguel whips his head to you, eyes wide. "No!" he bellows. 

"The lady says she is, big blue."

"And I say she's not!" Miguel growls, the last word ends on such loud volume it could break the sound barrier.

Miguel isn’t the best at reading cues. You’ve known Tony Stark for all of five minutes, and even you can tell that the man enjoys riling up people, Miguel is feeding right into that. 

Stark acts like Miguel is speaking at a decibel that he is unable to register. He saunters up to you, with the most carefree gait you’ve seen anyone carry around Miguel. 

"So are you free tonight?" Stark asks.

You spot Miguel’s bristling expression and hesitate for a second time. 

It’s mean, you shouldn’t rile Miguel up like this. His entire back is curved up like a hissing cat. The man looks like he’s about to blow a casket, acting like a jealous spouse. And somehow under Tony Stark’s attention you feel like you are the adulterous wife. 

Except once again, you’re not. Because you are not Miguel’s wife. 

… Why exactly are you pining after a man still grieving his dead ex-wife who happens to look like you? 

You're currently homeless. Your take-home salary as an insurance adjuster can’t afford you a new apartment in New York, not with the rising inflation and the current state of this economy. This is your highway express ticket to the charmed life of being a billionaire ex-wife. 

Bye bye to 9 to 5’s and having to manually enter data into thousands of excel sheets everyday. Jeff Bezos' former wife, Mackenzie Bezos was awarded 25% of their Amazon shares valued at over 38 billion dollars. Stark is twice as rich as that.

You slide closer to Stark. "Maybe? Where are you gonna take me? Somewhere fancy?"

"Yeah, no! Absolutely not!" Miguel interjects. 

He steps forward to drag you behind him, until his mountainous body blocks you from the man. 

“We need the arc reactor.” Miguel announces brusquely, with no fanfare and even less by way of explanation. “If you won’t give it to us, I’ll just have to take it.”

“What do you need it for?” Stark asks curiously. 

“That’s none of your business,” is the blunt reply. 

Stark tilts up his head, gaze pinned to Miguel’s mask. “You know, I’m not really minded to give away proprietary technology to a man wearing a wrestling mask in broad daylight.” 

There’s a stalemate between the two men as they stare each other down (or up in Stark’s case). The showdown is silent, you can practically feel the tumbleweeds rolling by, waiting to see who’s going to draw first. 

“He can take his mask off,” you interject. 

At your offer, Miguel’s eyes narrow, nose turning up in the air in a put off gesture, refusing to do as he’s told. 

“Mig,” you warn, and despite the clear scowl etched onto the features of his mask, this time, he complies. 

The blue and red fabric recedes into nothingness, until the fierce cut of his bare jawline is revealed. Eyes glowing an angry crimson. 

The scowl on Miguel's face is so ferocious, you can see his fangs in clear view. But instead of scary. Instead of intimidating. He looks... almost cute. All you see in front of you is a teething puppy with no real bite. He's harmless.

Stark makes a low whistling sound at the dramatic reveal of Miguel’s face. “Didn’t expect the fifth member of One Direction under there.” 

Miguel glares at the man, even though you know fully well that he doesn’t understand the pop-culture reference that’s being made. 

“So let’s take this from the top,” Stark says, and he starts to pace the length of the room until he reaches the arc reactor and gives the display case a light smack like he’s tapping the rear of a mare. 

“You need my arc reactor, but you won’t tell me why, and you’re not offering me anything in return, except for El Tigre over here not trying to kill me, is that about right?”

“What’s your price?” Miguel asks, voice in that low growling tone that always precedes a threat. 

“I’m a multi-billionaire, cash doesn’t really interest me, and I can’t exactly have this fall into the wrong hands.”

“We’re not bad people, and we’re not going to use it for anything nefarious. I know this sounds absolutely nuts, but we need your arc reactor to save the world,” you say. 

Stark chuckles at you, the way an adult would at a naive child. “That’s not really much to go on hon, you’re gonna have to give me more than that.” 

“Wong, the Sorcerer Supreme, he can vouch for us.”  

Stark considers you for a moment then tilts his head to take an appraising look of Miguel, eyes dragging from the sole of his suit-clad heels and up to his neck where the suit ends. 

“The unstable molecule fabric you have for the suit is interesting. I’ve been meaning to give my suit an upgrade, and having it disappear into thin air would be convenient. Wouldn’t have to constantly lug around 2,000 pounds of metal everywhere I go with me. Hand me a sample of the tech along with full intellectual property rights and we’ll talk.”

“No.” Miguel says. 

He straightens up his posture and crosses his arms over his chest with a haughty expression on his face. “My suit is technologically superior to all the technology you’ve got in this building combined. It’s a bum deal. Your arc reactor has palladium in it and would be poisonous for long term use. It’s practically defunct and I only need it for a one time use.”

God, this man really doesn’t know how to endear himself to anyone does he. 

“He doesn’t mean that,” you step in. 

“Well if it’s practically defunct, I wouldn’t want to pawn this junk off on you,” Stark responds, throwing up his hands in feigned defeat. “Besides, it has sentimental value to me. Not sure I’m willing to just give this away to some random guy who broke into my house.”

Miguel’s lip twitches in irritation until you see another flash of those fangs like they’re itching to sink into Stark’s throat. 

That only seems to entertain Stark further. “Look, you clearly need this reactor for something big, and for some reason you’re not able to build it yourself even with your advanced tech on display here. You’re obviously in a hurry, and in a desperate situation. Desperate enough to break in, and you know the saying: beggar’s can’t be choosers. I wouldn’t be much of a businessman if I didn’t take advantage of that.”

Miguel narrows his eyes, glancing around at the electronic equipment stored in the corner of the room. “I need you to throw in the laser scalpel along with the 3d printer and genetic sequencer,” he says, cocking his head in its direction. 

“Wow, toots, your boyfriend has real expensive taste,” Stark teases. 

Your cheek warms at the term boyfriend, but you don’t correct him. 

Neither does Miguel. Instead Miguel looks him squarely in the eyes and juts up his chin. “I want the Sonic disruptor too.”

“Fine,” Stark announces, holding up his hand in the gesture of a time-out to stop Miguel from listing out more expensive items. “You drive a hard bargain, Blue, but what the hell. It’s a deal. I’ll even give you a newer palladium-free model of the reactor so I can keep old sparky here for myself.” 

The sun is setting against the skyline of the city, washing it in strokes of warm amber-orange hues. Miguel is still grumbling next to you as the two of you stroll along the Brooklyn bridge. 

“Supergenius, Ha! Si los zombies comen cerebros, él sería invisible para ellos. What do you see in that guy anyway?! He’s not even good looking. He’s like what? 5 feet tall? He was wearing built in heels, you know! Es más corto que las mangas de un chaleco–”

"Can you pipe down?” you say, cutting off his tirade, “Just let it go, please. It's been hours! I didn’t see anything in him. I have no desire to be the next notch on Tony Stark's bedpost.” 

That finally seems to end his rant, or at the very least slow it down. Miguel shuts his mouth, staring out over the river. “Then why did you tell him you were free?”

“Because I wanted the arc reactor! I figured letting the guy flirt with me might help. Catching flies with honey and all that.”

He folds his arms over his chest, with a skeptical furrow in his brows. “You wanted him to take you somewhere fancy; that’s what you said,” he points out. 

Damn him and his super-genius memory. 

“Well, maybe I also wanted to eat at a Michelin star restaurant one time in my life. Manila Social Club is supposed to have a golden donut made with champagne jelly and actual gold on their dessert menu. 

“That doesn’t even sound tasty,” Miguel mutters, shoving his hands into his pockets. His mouth settles into an unhappy frown. 

“It would have been if I didn’t have to pay for it!”

“I could’ve gotten it for you,” he says, and it’s not until you take a better look at his face that you realize it’s not so much as a frown he’s sporting. It’s a pout.  

Oh, is he… ? He is, isn’t he!

“You have nothing to be jealous of, you know. I’m not interested in Tony Stark,” you reassure him. 

In front of you, the rigidness in his shoulder seems to melt at your words.

That surprises you. You’d have expected him to deny the accusation that he’s jealous. Adamantly object that he wasn’t, and why would he be, you’re nobody to him. Just a random stranger that happens to look like his wife that he cannot leave well enough alone. 

He doesn’t do that though. Instead, his only response is a quiet, “Okay.” 

His docileness takes you by surprise. 

Is he admitting that he was jealous? 

You'd be lying to yourself if you said that you didn't take even a morsel of enjoyment in the comical way that Miguel is getting himself riled up over you. To have him flustered and openly jealous of Tony Stark flirting with you. 

As if Miguel had anything to worry about. 

As if Tony Stark, a man who has ‘philandering philanthropist’ as a description for himself on his twitter bio, isn't known to be so indiscriminately flirtatious he’d eagerly court a voluptuously shaped tree. 

As if that man of 5 foot 6 (with platform shoes) would ever hope to occupy every one of your thoughts the way Miguel does.

Immature and childish and inane as your behavior back at Stark Tower was—and you feel mildly ashamed of it now—you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy it in the moment. Not because Tony Stark, multi-billionaire, GQ's Most Eligible Bachelor five years running, was flirting with you. 

No. Because for a moment you got to experience what it was like to have your rude protective Spiderman treat you as his girlfriend. Someone he was possessive of. Someone he treasures. Someone that is his. Instead of your current reality, where you know he belongs to someone else entirely.

“If anyone has anything to be jealous of, don’t you think it should be me?” you say, the words slipping out of your mouth before you can reign them back in. 

Miguel tilts his head, regarding you like a cute, confused pup, so you continue. 

"Because I could never compete with her, right?" 

"Her?" he asks, seeming genuinely puzzled.

"Your version of me," you say, "your Nena." You try to smile, try to keep it light-hearted, like the funny joke you had meant it to be, but it hurts even just to hear yourself say it. Because you know it's not a joke. 

It's true. You’re in love with a man whose affections aren't yours to win.

Miguel stops in his tracks, and that makes you stop as well. 

"It's not a competition," he says seriously. "You're two different people. You can't compare like that.” 

You feel like you’re being scolded and probably rightly so. You’re being childish and unreasonably trying to compare yourself to his dead wife. But that doesn’t mean that it makes it hurt any less to hear you don’t compare at all. Your heart fissures and cracks, and  the first sting of tears starts to well up behind your eyes. 

"You're important to me too," he continues. 

The words stop your heart, your eyes dart up to his face. The look on his face is gentle and soft, and it soothes the pain in your chest away, a gentle warmth rising to take its place. 

“Oh,” you say. You can’t help but smile up at him, squinting against the bright sun behind his back. 

“You’re important to me too,” you tell him.  

His lips quirk up into a small but genuine smile at your response. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” 

You nod, and then you have to turn away, feeling bashful under his attentive gaze. Embarrassed heat prickles your cheeks, and you need a second to catch your breath and let the evening breeze cool you down. 

There are cyclists and pedestrians going past you as the two of you continue to walk in silence. You sneak a look at him to see that, like you, he’s turned away. He’s gazing out over the bridge as he walks and against the amber sun, you see a faint flush riding high on his cheeks. 

Your fingers lightly brush against the side of his hand, and he turns back to you and smiles, sliding his pinkie to hook around yours. 

You walk all the way home this way, heart feeling full, and you think to yourself that maybe, this time, things really are going to be okay after all. 

~ Next issue

Author's note: So for fellow marvelheads checking, wouldn't Tony be dead after Endgame when Wong was made Supreme Sorcerer? This is another version of earth -- Thanos and the snap never happened. My baby Tony isn't dead how dare you!

The Spanish in this chapter has been left untranslated on purpose, so that it’s left ambiguous whether reader speak/understand Spanish. The idea is that if you as a reader understand it, then so does the reader, and vice versa 🥰

Dedication & Credits: To @guruan for her incredibly kind help and donating her time to check the Spanish used in this chapter.

And to the kind @forwantofwill and her generosity for doing this beautiful fanart of Miguel Folding Origami that has stolen my heart!!

And finally to @thirstworldproblemss I love you and hope you're eating all the yummy sukiyaki that you deserve. Thank you for coming with me on this wild ride.

[gale-gentlepenguin]

I’m just imagining Aang and the Gaang meeting the Strawhat Pirates.

Aang and team would be nervous after their previous encounter with Pirates, but then after meeting them, they would get along so well.

Aang and Luffy would get along so well, being adventurous. Doing really kidish things like ride Sea kings.

-Toph would normally Hate being in a boat but the thousand sunny accommodates her, it’s pretty great.

-Sokka and Zuko would BEG Zoro to teach him some swordplay.

-Chopper would get along with Everyone in the Gaang, especially Appa. And since he can talk to Appa. Aang would love that.

-Nami would be fascinated by metal bending. And wonder if Toph could do gold.

-Katara and Jinbe practicing water moves. Her water bending works crazy well with Fishman karate.

-Sokka would be dazzled by Franky’s creations and Usopp’s marksmanship.

-Aang and Brooke having a musical jam session.

-Robin and Zuko bonding over being the serious ones. Zuko also being an avid reader.

-Sanji cooking up the most amazing desserts. He treats the whole Gaang nicely as they are kids.