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#i'm looking to grow us so consider joining!
batfamfixation · 5 months
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Actually? Fuck all of the people trying to gatekeep comic book characters that exist in other media. Acting like people can only form opinions about characters based on the comics is bullshit. If someone likes the Teen Titans because of the TV show instead of taking the time to read the thousands of comics "required" to be a "real fan" of those characters, good for them. If someone likes the Young Justice or Justice League cartoons and wants to talk about their love of those characters, they should. If Batman from Batman the Animated Series is a person's favorite version of Batman and their comfort character, GOOD FOR THEM.
This need to gatekeep comic book characters that appear in other media is fucking gross. If someone loves Batman and says he's a great guy because of how he's depicted outside of modern comics, then they're not a "fake" Batman fan, they just love a version of Batman that you don't care about. The same goes for all of the other DC shows and movies. People are allowed to love versions of characters that exist outside of comics and call themselves a fan of that character.
Stop. Gatekeeping. Fictional. Characters
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synkverv · 2 years
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and if i batted my eyes and said pretty please... could you, would you join?  https://discord.gg/Afajd8vPu7
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libraford · 2 months
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The word 'rural' is in the public consciousness again and every time people start going in about the 'rural values' 'rural way of life' I remember just how subjective that word is.
I have a friend that lives in LA. He considers Columbus, OH to be 'rural.' A population of over 900k. Thriving arts community, tons of culture festivals, every kind of restaurant you can think of, one of the most annoying college campuses ever, several smaller colleges, lots of queer spaces, comic book conventions, huge concerts... rural.
The town I live in considers itself 'rural.' 38k population. Arts festival every year, a small pride celebration, monthly gallery hop, big Halloween festival. Five ice cream shops, three coffee shops, a couple fancy bars, so many grocery stores. Huge library, conservation and sustainability advocates, queer spaces, a hospital, one private college. Rural.
The town we nearly annexed, but lost the deal considers us 'urban' compared to them. Less than 5k. They have a limited hospital, often send their surgeries here. Downtown has hardware store, bars, craft supply store, a couple grocery stores, pizza places. There's some farmland, but much of the square acreage is golf. Mega churches. The houses here are 500k. Most people drive ATVs. They have a handful of festivals in the summer.
A town I would often get sent to to cover their high school sports- a little over 2k. There's a Subway, a Domino's, Family Dollar. Some bars, some corner stores. Some local crafts. All the students grow up knowing each other, most of them stay there. But they have craft fairs and art galleries, still.
Less rural still than the town I go through to get there, population of around 600. Houses, farmland, post office, general store.
Who would still look down upon the town of about 400 that I would go to sometimes- post office. Gas station. Bar. The school is the only big thing there.
And yet still, I have seen towns with population in the double digits that have a church and a post office.
Even just looking at the numbers doesn't lend accuracy to what 'rural' actually looks like. Because this is what it looks like in ohio, but it's different in West Virginia- where your closest neighbor might be a mile down a hill. Or in Montana, where your town might be planned very tightly and your neighbors are very close, but the nearest grocery store is an hour and a half away. These are places I've been, friends that I've talked to. I've never been to Missouri or Alabama or Louisiana- I'm sure they have a unique experience of being 'rural.'
So my point is that when people talk about 'the rural experience' or 'rural values,' they are talking about millions of people across the entire country who all have lived unique lives- and who may not even agree on what 'rural' is.
Think about who is talking, and who is being talked over, and who isn't even being asked to join the conversation.
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reiderwriter · 5 months
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Isn't She Pretty, Daddy?
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Teacher f!Reader
Summary: You're a little bit worried about one of your brightest students recently, so you call her Dad to come in for a meeting. Her absolutely adorable - and single - Dad.
Warnings: the birds and the bees as explained by a kindergardener. Some angst about being a single parent.
A/N: Here's another entry for @imagining-in-the-margins Kid Fic Challenge! Dad Spencer has my heart, and I've been in a really fluff forward mood this weekend, evidently! I think I have one more Kid Fic left to go before the end of the challenge, but we'll see what the will of the fanfiction gods is...
Masterlist
If you were to be asked what the hardest part of being a teacher was, you would, without question or even a second to think, have an answer. Parents. The worst part of teaching is talking to parents. 
Little kids were easy to talk to. They asked questions if they didn't understand things clearly, and they didn't typically say things they didn't mean. Adults were the opposite, and it just so happened that all of your kids' parents were adults. 
Including your most recent problem  child. 
You were used to the kids in your class having some behavior issues - for one, they were kids, it was to be expected that their little bodies couldn't quite handle all of the emotions they were feeling at once. But you were doubly struck by your school area being close to Quantico, meaning half the kids in your care had families with law enforcement backgrounds. 
Absent parents plus growing bodies plus normal kid stress equalled attachment issues, and your problem child Harper Reid was one of your more worrying cases. 
You really hoped everything was okay in the Reid household, so you'd called the little girls parents. She was lovely - honest to god - one of the sweetest little kids you'd ever met. 
Every day she came to school with some older kids and their mom, carpooling on the way in, so you had yet to meet her parents, but you thought that anyone who could produce something that sweet and cute and brilliant couldn't possibly be a bad person. 
You didn't know what to expect, so when her little pigtails peaked around the corner and she came running in, you were momentarily filled with anxiety. 
“MOMMY!” The little girl yelled, launching herself into your arms as soon as she spotted you behind your desk. 
“Hi, Harper! Hi, you must be, Mr. Reid-”
“Doctor, actually, um, but that doesn't really matter. I'm so sorry about this, Harper doesn't usually tackle people.” 
The 3ft tall ball of energy had managed to crawl into your lap and wrap her arms around your neck, so you had to pick her up when you stood to greet her dad. 
“Will your wife be joining us for the meeting today?” You asked, already used to Harper's hugs and general closeness. 
“Oh, no. No, she's not coming. She, uh, doesn't exist. Single father.” 
“Oh my god, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to assume, it's just not on my files-” 
“It's okay, it's a …bit complicated.” 
You took your seat at the desk and gestured to the man to do the same. Finally, looking at him for the first time now that some of your anxiety had died down, you couldn't help but think that Doctor Reid was incredibly attractive. It wasn't one part of his face that stuck out to you as being particularly pretty, just the entire ensemble of it together that took your breath away. Either that of Harper was gripping you so tight she was restricting your ability to breathe, and considering a five year old is not a boa constrictor, this was all dad's fault. 
“So, you said on the phone Harper's been having some problems at school?” 
You snapped your attention back to the issue at hand, searching for the relevant files and pictures you wanted to show the man. Harper turned herself around in your lap and looped her arms around your arm, pulling it in close to use as a pillow. 
“Isn't Miss Y/N so pretty, Daddy?” You froze and flushed in an instant, suddenly so aware of the man's eyes on you. You weren't sure if you were thankful or even more embarrassed that Harper's dad seemed to be even more flushed than you. 
“Daddy? Isn't she pretty?” Harper insisted, and you realized that you both weren't going to get out of this without him answering. 
“Yes, angel. Miss Y/N is very pretty.” The little girl smiled in triumph and nuzzled into your arm even more, happily curled up into your lap like a cat. 
“Hey, Harper. We got a new puzzle delivered yesterday. It's got My Melody and Cinnamaroll on it. They're your favorites, right?” 
The little girl nodded in glee, eyes shining as she hung on your every word. 
“How about you go over to the play area and get it started, and then me and your daddy will come over and help you finish it?” 
In a flash, she'd hopped up out of your lap and wriggled away, shouting a quick “You promised, right?” behind her as she went. 
“I'm so sorry about that, I don't know what's gotten into her, she's usually very shy and-”
“Doctor Reid, it's fine. That's just why I called you in today. Teachers and parents are a team, right, we work together to make sure the kids grow up well, you don't need to apologize to me for that.” 
The man seemed to take a deep breath and nod, to regain his wits about him for a second. 
“Is she… this attached in her regular classes?” 
“Well honestly, she was a bit like that at the beginning of the semester, but she grew out of it after a while. In the last week or so, she fell back into it, and now she's calling me ‘Mommy,’ too. I was wondering if anything happened recently at home that could've led her in this direction, or…”
The man looked a little bashful, but there was a twinge of sadness in his expression that you recognised all too well. 
“Harper, uh, doesn't have a Mom. I adopted her, and it's a long story, but... She's been asking me to get her one recently, because she doesn't really understand all that well? I'm sorry, I didn't know she'd do something like this. I should've done a better job at home-” 
“Doctor Reid, raising a child is hard. It's so hard that humans usually do it in communities, or at least in couples. You're doing it alone, and Harper is already one of the smartest and most empathetic little girls I know. You're doing your job as Dad just fine.” 
The man smiled at you and looked down, quickly wiping away a tear as you gave him a moment of privacy. 
“So. If nothing at home set Harper off, we should probably go and ask her why she's calling me mommy, right?” 
You stood, and he stood with you, leaving his satchel next to his chair and unbuttoning his jacket. 
“Great. Sure, let's go see.”
Walking to the back of the room, you both smiled quietly, looking at the small girl. The 100 piece puzzle you'd guided her to was neatly arranged on the desk, pieces split into edges and centre pieces as she slowly looked at each one with a quietly focused face. Each time she found the piece she was looking for, her smile was bright as she connected it to the small part she was working on. 
“Mommy! Daddy! I can't find the melody's face, can you help me?” 
“Sure, Harper, we'll help you.” You moved to sit beside her at the tiny desks, giggling when the older Reid on Harper's other side struggled to fit himself in the toddler sized chairs. 
Harper assigned you roles, and you all started quietly doing your jobs, waiting for Harper to focus again so you could ask her questions without agitating her. 
“Harper, can you tell your Daddy why you call me Mommy?” 
“Sure! You're Mommy because I want you to marry with Daddy.” 
If you weren't already still flushed from her earlier comments, you certainly were lightheaded with embarrassment now. 
“Harper, that's not how it works-” 
“Yes, it is, Daddy! Henry said so. He said his mommy and daddy were sad one day, but then they were together again and they had a big party called a wedding and now they're happy, and that's why we have Michael.” You didn't quite follow from all the names and the story events, but it was evident that Reid did, so you waited quietly for his explanation. 
“My friend. Her son was at her wedding a few years back. They have another son who is a couple years older than Harper, they come to school together?” 
Your mouth made a small ‘o’ as you slowly filled in the blanks. 
“Harper, you want daddy to have a wedding so he isn't sad anymore?” 
The little girl gave a big nod and a smile, like she was so happy that she was finally being understood. 
“Miss Y/N should marry daddy because he thinks she's pretty. Henry said that was important for a wedding, your mommy has to look beautiful.” You made eye contact with Doctor Reid awkwardly as she spoke, both of you looking away for fear of seeing the embarrassment on each others faces. 
“And Miss Y/N wants a baby. So I will be Miss Y/N's baby, so everyone can be happy!” Harper's kid logic was a little hard to find fault with, but you still had to push back a little. 
“Harper, why do you think I want a baby?” 
“Angie asked you, and you said," the girl pouted, almost frustrated woth habing to answer all these silly questions.
"She asked you why you don't have a baby, and you said that you can only have a baby if you're married and that you wanted to have a baby when you were married. So marry my dad, and I'll be your baby!” 
Harper's smile was so happy and content that you really didn't want to spoil her dream just yet. You continued putting the puzzle together for a few minutes in silence, the full picture nearly being complete now. Harper seemed to fidget a little in her seat next to you, pushing closer and closer to you before tugging on your sleeve. 
You leaned down and she whispered in your ear - though you didn't doubt that her dad heard every word. 
“If you really want, I'm sure we can get another baby like Henry got Michael. I'll ask my dad, but I think it's allowed.” 
The poor man on the other side of the desk had to cover his face with his hands to stop the blush from showing, devolving to just straight up resting his head on the desk when his daughter kept going. 
“A boy is okay, but my dad doesn't really know about boy stuff. Uncle Derek says that my daddy is just a pretty boy with a book brain. We should get another girl, so daddy can be not worry.” 
The more you listened to Harper's adorable family plan, the more you just wanted to squeeze her tight and say yes and give her everything she wanted. 
“Miss Y/N, once again, I'm so sorry for everything, I'll talk with Harper at home about this.” 
“It's okay, I actually find it all very sweet,” you laughed a little and smiled back at him. 
“No, I'm sure your boyfriend would be so uncomfortable if he knew that she was trying to marry you off-” 
“Doctor Reid, are you trying to ask me if I'm single?” 
The small grin that quirked his lips up was nothing if not unfair. He really was a very pretty boy. 
“It was that obvious?” 
“Yep.” You made sure the ‘p’ popped a lot as you both shared a small laugh. Harper looked up between you and smiled, too. 
“So, can you get married now? Henry said you can do it really quickly, like in Grandpa Rossi's garden, and then you can go and do the secret part at home while Auntie Penny looks after me.” 
“Secret part?” 
“To make the other baby, silly!” 
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rottiens · 2 months
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⊹ synopsis. . as your beloved husband, it is his duty to indulge you in your fantasies. even in the unspoken ones. ⊹ tags. . (18+), husband nanami x reader with female anatomy (no pronouns used), petnames (honey), suggestive, dirty talk, finger sucking, reader has a hands kink. divider creds: cafekitsune.
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Discreetly you glance back, your eyebrows raise unconsciously and your heart does that unusual throbbing that you hadn't experienced in a long time in Kento's presence, at least since you got married. You didn't want to admit that married life had tempered a bit the passion of the early years, when your hands couldn't be still standing next to each other, when you struggled to control your restless gaze and burning cheeks because you had to share the same team for a mission with your boyfriend. On the other hand, Kento was always more reserved, more serious. When asked if you were dating, he would simply say it was no one's business, although his cheekbones would change color every time someone mentioned your name.
After you left school behind, graduated as sorcerers and began accepting special grade missions, Kento and you talked about your relationship and how you saw yourselves together for much longer, starting a family, growing plants together and perhaps enjoying a quieter hobby that didn't involve exorcising curses. The two of you considered joining a book club or visiting the countryside on weekends.
Then one day he dropped one of his knees to the ground and handed you the beautiful ring that now decorates your finger, physically sealing a union to which you were both long committed: it has been exactly four years and three months since the wedding that only close people and family members attended. Since then you have kept a low profile, you had accepted married life and the everyday life it brought with it, although that didn't mean you had stopped loving Kento like the first day —on the contrary—, it meant seeing him every day and extinguishing a little of that adolescent spark that once burned you from inside every time you spent more than three days away from each other.
However, since a couple of weeks that spark had come back to life hungrier than ever and it's not until now that you find out why.
The sound of the paper sliding under your husband's fingers is soothing to you. Kento does this almost every night: reading a book, sometimes even reading aloud to you until you fall asleep. His glasses rest on the tip of his nose, his bare chest rises and falls like the waves of the sea, and he's wearing gray pajama pants. You've watched this scene so many nights that you've learned to recognize the meaning when his brow furrows or when he pouts as he immerses himself in rich reading. At this moment, as he sometimes does, he gently caresses your calf, sending shivers along your limb, generating fluttering heartbeats in your chest and between your legs.
Kento turns another page and calls out to you, "Honey," without looking away from the book. The timbre of his voice draws you to him. "Are you okay?" he asks again, now watching you with wrinkles in his forehead that denote concern.
"I'm fine," you assure him without maintaining eye contact. "Can't I enjoy the sight of my handsome husband while he reads?" The word "husband" draws a smile on his face, causing the corners of his mouth to turn up. You only need to utter that one word to have him completely captivated.
"I'm almost done," he announces as he dives back into reading.
You gulp. It's his hands, you suddenly recognize. The realization hits you in the forehead. There's something in the way his thumb runs across the page, something in how his open hand holds the back of the book, in his thumb tapping the cover and then bringing it to his mouth to play with his lip. It all gets your bloodstream pumping adrenaline.
The thought makes you run away from the scene like a teenager in love. At first you were in total denial, hands? How could you tell him that his hands turned you on, wouldn't that be weird? However as the days go by you find it harder to control it and make it go unnoticed, you find yourself looking at them when Kento takes your hand to go outside, when he holds the steering wheel of the car, you find yourself squeezing your legs when his fingers tighten around the watering can to water the plants and the worst of all, when he cooks.
Now, as he finishes decorating the cake, he was wearing those black jeans that were your favorite, along with a brown shirt that had the first two buttons open, leaving part of his collar exposed. The sleeves of the shirt were rolled up to his elbows. You couldn't help but stare at him in fascination, feeling the saliva pool in your mouth.
"You know you can tell me anything, right?" The question sneaks in among your swarm of thoughts, and you stop yourself from watching him work to stare into his eyes that don't look at you.
"I know," you reply simply, which elicits a purr of approval from him.
"Want to try?" He abruptly changes the subject, but still, encouraged, you nod your head. With his index finger and thumb, Kento pinches a small piece of cake and brings it up to your mouth. You stretch your neck to catch his fingers, and the taste of vanilla and cream glides over your tongue. Even after swallowing Kento doesn't withdraw his fingers, and you don't move either.
The playful thumb, still with traces of cream, reaches just beyond your lips to meet your tongue. Your eyes widen as red alarms go off in your mind and your thighs press against each other.
"My hands, hm?" it catches you in mid-act, unable to move, your body turning to stone in the middle of the kitchen. "What's so special about them?"
"I-I…"
"Don't talk with your mouth full," Kento purrs as he pushes a little further, the pad of his thumb massaging your tongue in small circles spreading the sweet taste on it. "Suck it, I know this is what's been filling your mind." And you do, closing your eyes at his command, wrapping your fingers around his wrist as Kento begins to fuck your mouth. "I can't believe you didn't comment to me about this little kink of yours, it offends me even." You groan, unable to look him in the eye, succumbed to the feeling of fighting for your dignity or surrendering to pleasure. "Maybe you need me massaging your thighs, maybe you want them around your neck… playing with your tits or maybe I need to make you watch my thick fingers go in and out of you, my thick veins standing out in my hands as I pump my fingers inside that wet pussy." You whimper, Kento laughs. "I guess I'll have to cancel my dinner tonight, I need to get each and every thought you've had with my hands out of that pretty head of yours while you comment on what it is you like so much about them."
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pomefioredove · 3 months
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hello dovee! I saw the "I'd look good on you." and immediately thought of vil! if I could please request for that? THANK YOU SO MUCH🍰stay creative!
thank you everyone for feeding me vil requests. I got a little crazy with this one
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summary: "I'd look good on you." type of post: short fic characters: vil additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, a little suggestive a part of this event
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"No, no, no, no. Wrong, dreadful,"
You dodge another designer handbag as it goes flying across Vil's room, joining the growing pile of clothes behind you.
"Why is this so difficult?" he groans, storming out of his closet. "I have not a SINGLE decent thing to wear for this interview."
You look over your shoulder, watching him as he begrudgingly begins to clean up the mess he'd made.
"I think you're stressed,"
Vil pauses midway through sliding a silken shirt back on its hanger to glare at you.
"Another excellent observation," he says dryly. Then, a sigh.
"Sorry. I've been wanting to work with this director for years... I don't care for this role, but if the film does well, he'll likely want to work with me again... How's this?"
He holds up a glittery purple dress in front of him. You blink.
"...Good,"
"Ugh," he scoffs, tossing it aside. You don't know how many more times you can tell him he looks good in everything before he kicks you out.
"What is the role, anyway?"
Vil rolls his eyes, catching onto your attempt to distract him. He indulges, anyway.
"Another villain, although this film is more of a..." he pauses, gesturing vaguely. You stare. "...A young adult movie."
"So it's bait for teenage girls?"
"...Essentially,"
He sighs again, cleaning up the last of his temper tantrum and sorting it in his massive closet.
"Thus my role is more... provocative, we'll say. Which is fine, if not for the fact that I feel I did horribly,"
"I'm sure you didn't,"
"I'll be a laughing stock, this director will never work with me again, and I'll become one of those pathetic, washed up former child stars by age twenty-one,"
That feels... a tad overdramatic, but you don't mention it.
"That's not going to happen," you insist. "I'm sure you make a great... provocative... villain!"
Vil sighs, returning to the bedside to sit with you. For a brief moment, you can feel him staring, but you say nothing of it.
"You haven't even seen it," he mumbles, finally looking away. "I only have half an hour... I feel completely unassured."
You can't help but feel pity. Before knowing Vil, you had stupidly assumed that most celebrities are confident by nature, exuding grace and certainty.
Now...
"Is there anything I can do to help?"
Vil quiets, seeming to consider the offer. "...May I use a line on you?"
You're not exactly sure what he means by that, but it can't be anything too painful. He only has half an hour, after all.
You nod.
Vil smiles, then turns away. He takes a deep breath... you've seen this before. He's getting into character.
It's very effective.
When he turns back, his expression is completely different. And his body language. Even his very presence has shifted.
You've seen this before, you remind yourself. The dangerous, menacing facade that he's known for, that makes his roles so iconic...
But he's also smiling, his eyes lowered, a pleasantly amused look about him.
His hand finds its way to the bed on your other side, effectively caging you between his arms. And then he moves in, guiding you down onto the mattress and leaning over your body.
This is your friend. You're just helping him. There's nothing to be nervous about.
Despite what you tell yourself, you can feel the effect he's having on you.
He can tell, too.
Vil tuts, his free hand coming up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.
"Scared?" he asks. His voice is gentle, though there's a lingering danger behind it.
"Poor thing... I won't bite,"
He leans closer, his other hand intertwining with yours and keeping it pinned to the mattress, hot breath pressing against your ear.
"I'd look good on you," he whispers.
You know you shouldn't interrupt him, but you can't stop the nervous, flustered whine that comes out of your throat.
Vil breaks character, beaming, and gets off of you.
"Oh, my..." he grins, studying your expression. "You were right. I was worried over nothing."
He stands, smoothing out his clothes, and strides towards the closet to change, leaving you flustered senseless on the bed until he returns.
"How do I look?" he asks.
Of course, perfect. He always looks perfect. And now that he's confident again, gorgeous.
He smirks. "I'll take your silence as a compliment, potato. Thank you for the boost... I'll be back to pick up where we left off in a few hours,"
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bonny-kookoo · 10 months
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Jungkook
𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐎𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 | Attachment
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There's something growing between the two of you- or are you simply growing closer?
Tags/Warnings: Aged up!Jungkook, Younger!Reader, Age Gap (9 years, JK is mentioned to be 34/35), Angst, Mature romance, Jungkook's ex wife, mentions of past physical abuse, mentions of alcohol abuse, fluff, flirty Jungkook, fluff!!, reader is a bit jumpy, some more lore, smut, slow sex, position changes, mentioned round two, some angy jungkook (but not at reader), some angst in the end but it's all resolved dw
Length: 7.2k words
There is no taglist for this fic.
-> Masterlist
A/N: I did not proofread this I'm sorry
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"Do you even know where we're going?" Jungkook worries, sitting next to you on the subway, but you just shrug.
"I know how to get back though, that's more important." You simply say, making him even more nervous.
Jungkook isn't used to giving up control like this. He's not used to being spontaneous and just doing things out of the blue because you feel like it. Things have to be structured, planned out and with a Plan B to go with it in case something goes wrong. He's an overthinker, and it shows, as he keeps looking around and asking.
"Just relax. There's a park nearby that I wanna go to. We can get some food close by and just eat it there." You say, and he sighs.
"I'm sorry." He admits, leaning back into the seat to try and relax more.
"Its alright. Most people panic whenever I talk about trips I take." You laugh.
"Do you travel a lot?" He asks, and you shrug.
"Used to. But.. he was more of a homebody. Didn't like staying at hotels." You explain, watching the scenery pass by next to you outside the window. "He kind of ruined it for me because he'd just.. continuously point out flaws in everything." You say, and Jungkook listens quietly. "Flaws that I'd.. overlook most of the time, because, nothing's ever perfect anyways, so why focus on that all the time?" You giggle, looking at him now.
"I'd disagree, but also agree." He chuckles. "There can be perfect things. It's just a matter of perspective, and how it's perceived by someone." He offers. "What's perfect to one might not be for another." Jungkook explains, and you nod.
"Thats the more.. complicated way of explaining it, I guess." You joke.
"I tend to overcomplicate things." He bashfully agrees, making you lean into him, resting your head against his shoulder.
"You'll.. tell me when I get too much, right?" You ask quietly, and he nods, arm wrapping around you as if to reassure.
"I will, don't worry." He reassures you, before he moves to pull your hand up to kiss the back for it-
A gesture that makes you blush, especially from the people around you fawning over it as well.
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He's caught off guard when you walk around in nothing but underwear, visibly unbothered by him seeing you like this.
"Do you.. want to join me?" You ask. "The tub is a bit small but..?" You question, looking over your shoulder at him, who looks oddly unsure. Considering you both have had sex twice now- or more so once, really, it's odd to think that he's like this now. Is it because the nature of your.. whatever it is, has changed?
You're no longer just strangers without any connection. There's something deeper now growing. And maybe that's what's putting him under pressure.
"If you'd like me to." He shrugs.
"Only if you want." You say. "I won't be upset if you say no. I'm a big girl, I can handle rejection." You giggle, and he chuckles as well, smile a bit less tense as before.
"I'm sure you can." He agrees. "Though I'd be stupid to reject." He jokes, getting up to walk closer to you.
"Or simply cautious." You shrug. "Nothing wrong with that." You remind him, but he simply nods, and follows you into the bathroom. The water is streaming in, hot, soap bubbling up. Jungkook watches how you easily shed your last items of clothing before you sink into the water, and he does the same now, revealing himself bare to join you in the barely big enough tub behind you.
You're comfortably leaning against his front, very obviously not shy about this at all- and in a way, oddly enough, it seems to rub off on him, as he feels himself relax with you so close. "I want to move into an apartment with a bathtub one day." You giggle randomly.
"Does yours not have one?" He asks, and you shake your head.
"No, it's too small for one." You deny. "Does yours?" You ask, and he hums his answer.
"It.. I have both. One guest bathroom with a shower. The main one has a tub." He explains to you. "Maybe.. you could come over someday. See it for yourself." Jungkook chuckles.
"Hm. Maybe. When you want me to." You say.
"I do want you to-" He starts, feeling like he needs to argue- though he's not sure what about.
"I know, but you also don't, and that's fine." You laugh. "I.. you know, I kind of get the vibe from you that.." you start, but drift off.
"..that?" He softly urges, hands now moving underneath the water to find yours to hold.
"..that you're not used to.. you know. People asking for permission. Or just.. I don't know." You shrug. "You're always so surprised whenever I do nothing but simply take your feelings into account. You seem so caught off guard whenever I ask you if you're okay with things." You tell him, and his eyes stare at the slowly disappearing soapy bubbles on the water surface as he begins to think.
It's true that it's not common. He's the man- always has been one, and with that always came the burden of decisions. Evelyn always took the things he did for granted- saw it as something natural. The fact that he provided her with a place to stay, money and security was just a given to her, and so was the fact that whenever she decided where to go for dinner, or what to do on his days off. He always drove her to her appointments, always had to please her, treat her right, because that's always been his role to play.
So, you're right. He's not used to being given a choice, asked for permission, or questioned whether or not he was okay with something. And it's become so normal for him, that he truly believed that that was how things had to be like-
and maybe that's also why he was so hesitant with you. Why he still hesitates.
What if he does something wrong? What if he decides something you don't like? What if he's not what you want him to be?
You want him to be himself. But he's not sure he even knows how to be himself anymore.
"You should.. be more selfish, you know?" You say, voice echoing off the walls a little as you move around in the water. "Then I won't feel so bad every time I want to ask you to do something for me." You laugh, joking- but he catches the hidden words.
"You can ask anything of me." He chuckles. "Trust me, I can make decisions just fine." He reassures you, placing his hands on your shoulders.
"I'm not doubting that!" You laugh. "But just- You're.. really nice, and I'm kind of scared I'll screw this up." You sigh, trying to sit up and lean away from him- but he holds you towards him, keeping you close.
"There's no 'screwing up' for either of us. We might not work out for reasons, but I doubt we'll really.. screw up like you say." He offers kindly. "I kind of.. just want to be with you for the next few days. Nothing more, nothing less."
"In what way?" You almost whisper, and he chuckles against your skin, pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder.
"In whatever way you'd like." He hums against your skin, hands traveling up and down the length of your arms.
"What way would you like?" You ask, and he leans his head a little to rest his face in the crook of your neck.
"Right now.. exactly this." He sighs out. "I'm enjoying this a lot." He reveals, and at that, you lean back into him, and you can feel the way his lips twist into a smile against your skin.
"Is.. what made you fall in love with uhm.. Evelyn was it, right?" You ask, and he nods.
"I'm not sure." He admits. "She was pretty. She liked me, or at least that's what she told me- asked me out one night, and I just said yes because why not?" He shrugs, water sloshing around a bit at that movement. "I didn't.. have much interest in her back then, but I felt like it could just.. grow down the line."
"I mean, she's still pretty from what I could tell." You giggle, though he shakes his head. "No?" You wonder, and again, he shakes.
"Not anymore." He denies. Maybe conventionally attractive. Physically." Jungkook sighs. "But inside, she's just.. ugly."
You nod at that. You understand what he means.
"What about Greg?" He wonders, since the situation seems as good as ever to gain some more information on the guy he's never even seen before.
"He was.. or, you know, isn't as tall as you. A bit shorter. Uhm.. harsher facial features." You remember. "He always looked a little intimidating to me. But I thought it was just appearance. He used to be really nice to me, you know?" You explain, before you sigh. "But.. I don't know. Over time, after we started living together, it just went downhill." You explain to the man currently holding you. "There were warning signs before, sure- but I thought he was just stressed."
Jungkook listens, and makes sure you know that he is doing it- though he also provides some slight physical comfort as well.
"I should've left when he started to yell at me. Insult me, you know? But I didn't. I thought, if I was nice enough.." You stare at the bubbles slowly dissolving. "..I thought it would be okay."
"You were in love." He reassures you. "And we do stupid things when we're in love." Jungkook admits, making you nod as you lift your head a little to look at him.
Finally realizing that while his situation might not have been the same-
he still understands. More than anyone else.
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The next day starts rather.. interesting to him.  
He's wondering how long it'll take for you to snap- because he's noticed that some of his habits and behaviours are clearly getting onto your nerves. But he's not hiding any of it away- you need to face the truth after all, that he's no angel, and no perfect man without any flaws. He's not sugarcoating things- but you are. And he's waiting for you to drop that façade.  
You're never truly relaxing. You act like you are- but he knows you're not.  
Meanwhile he's just himself, even exaggerates some of what he knows are his nasty habits- and you're just quietly stepping over his pants thrown in the middle of the floor in the hotel room, though he notices the way your eyes cling to them for a good second. And when you actually trip over them on your way out, it's when you finally decide to speak up. "Jungkook?" You ask, and he hums, lifting his head from his phone to look at you. "Can you.. could you maybe try and I don't know.. put your clothes in one place only?" You ask, meekly, and that's when he notices something important. When he realizes something. 
You seem awfully.. wary saying that. Almost fearful.  
Oh. 
"Of course." He nods, getting up to put them away- and your reaction to that, is that just instantly fall into apologizing for your words- as if what you said could've insulted him in some way.  
"It's just that you could lose something you know?" You hum, wringing your hands anxiously. "And maybe you trip too and-" 
"It's fine, really." Jungkook reassures you after dropping his pants and shirt that's been laying around in his still opened travel bag, now turning towards you. "Come here." He sighs, and you do, walking close to him until he pulls you in and hugs you. "I'm not mad." He offers, and from the way you tense up, he realizes he's hit the nail on the head. "I'll never be mad- never like that. I can promise you that much."  
"I'm sorry." You apologize. "I know you're not like that-"  
"But it's a habit, I get it." He offers, before he lets you go to look at you properly. "I can imagine why you feel like you have to apologize right now- but there's no need to pacify me." He tells you. “I’m not angry.” 
"I know. I'm sorry- I never thought you were like that either." You sigh.  
“Small steps.” He chuckles. “We’ve got time.” he reassures. “Let’s go out and see if we can find a restaurant we want to eat at, hm? Something casual.” He teases lightly, making you nod.  
Just like he said- it’s a habit.  
You’re so used to having to justify your actions, having to apologize for everything, having to just suck it up and get over it that it’ll be probably a long road until you’re truly free again. Does he want to deal with that? Maybe not, maybe he’s just too nice to say it right now because you’re..  well, stuck together in this hotel on this trip together for a few more days to come, since he ended up making an entire week out of the three day trip. Maybe he just doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable,  because he’s just a nice guy like that.  
“Hey.” He rips you out of your thoughts. “let’s order room service instead.” He offers, and you’re confused.  
“But you wanted to eat out?” You wonder. “and.. we’re wasting an entire day by staying inside-“  
“We’re not wasting anything.” He chuckles. “I went on this trip with you to spend time with you. Which is what I’m doing right now.” He offers you, pulling your hands to have you close as he sits on the edge of the bed you both share. “you’re getting stressed. Tell me how I can help you.” He asks gently, as you sit on his thighs, unsure.  
You don’t know why you’re so on edge today. You can’t turn it off.  
“it just feels like.. any second now, something might happen.” You sigh, playing with the buttons on his shirt. “I’m not used to things being so.. okay.”  
“I understand that.” He nods. “you’ll get used to it in the future, I promise.” Jungkook makes sure to tell you, before he takes your hands again. “can I.. ask you something? And please don’t.. I’m not going to say the things I’ll say because something is  wrong with you or anything.” He says, and you nod for him to go on. “have you considered.. talking to someone about your past experiences? Someone professional?” He wonders, but you shake your head.  
“I feel like.. it wasn’t bad enough to really go to therapy for it. Lots of people go through tough times like that, and they manage just fine.” You shrug. “I’m just being dramatic about it. Like you said, I’ll get used to it with time.” You defend yourself by instinct.  
“You’ve been through something traumatic. There’s no.. threshold of how bad something needs to be to be able to seek out help.” He explains with a gentle tone of voice. “I’m not going to force you, obviously. But just so you know, your pain isn’t invalid just because others had it worse.” He says. “Think about it, at some point. Doesn’t have to be right now.”  
“I’ll.. keep it in mind.” You nod. “thank you.” You offer him, and he nods as well.  
“Nothing to thank me for.” 
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Jungkook is agitated.  
He’s been silent for a bit now, desperately searching for a spot to charge the electric rental car at- but all he finds are either in use or out of order. It’s raining too, meaning there’s not really anything you both could do other than just drive back to the hotel- but this charging spot has to work now, or the car won’t make it back.  
Everything is just going wrong.  
From the restaurant reservation somehow getting mixed up, to his phone constantly ringing because people won’t let him have his days off- poor device slipping out his hand at some point as he’d wanted to take it out the pocket of his pants, clattering to the ground, screen cracked in several places. Then, he’s informed of something urgent at work- he’s needed back earlier than he wanted to take time off for, meaning you’ll have to pack your things tonight already to fly back home by tomorrow morning.  
And now, as he gets out wordlessly to take the charger from the station, he reaches his breaking point.  
“fucking hell!” He barks out as he’s back inside the car, hand hitting the steering wheel once as the car denies any further distance. And he’s got tunnel vision too- not noticing the way you instinctively flinch next to him.  
But it’s just a habit of your body. Your mind knows that Jungkook’s anger doesn’t work like you’re used to.  
He’s on the phone, talking to a coworker when you take the chance to undo your seatbelt, before you open the door. His hand reaches out, softly holding your coat to send you an confused glance- worried even that he might’ve caused you distress. But you  give him a smile in return, and get out to walk into the gas station, finding an employee.  
“Sorry- I was just wondering.. the charging station outside doesn’t seem to work?” You ask, and the man behind the counter nods.  
“Oh? Yeah it does it sometimes. Let me come check it, it’ll probably just need a restart.” The man shrugs, taking some keys with him before he walks back out with you trailing after him. “Ah yeah, stupid thing got a little crazy again. Go sit inside though, you’ll catch a cold!” He laughs, waving you towards the car standing in front of the little station. “let me know when it starts charging.”  
You instead walk to open the trunk however, fetching an umbrella instead to hold over the man’s head- something he laughs at but thanks you for either way as he taps around on the panel.  
Jungkook watches from inside, using this moment to calm down again.  
He didn’t think at all. Did he scare you? Probably, considering he can be quite scary to other people as well if he gets frustrated like this. He hates how things like these just bubble beneath his skin all day until it boils over- especially considering that he’s been so eager to make sure that you know he’s not one to get angry easily. And yet here he is, having just yelled at a car for not working.  
Maybe he’s not the right person for you after all. You need someone calm and collected, not someone like him.  
Suddenly, the car chimes up, telling him it’s finally starting to charge- and outside, you’re thanking the man with the thick grey beard with a grateful smile, one he returns just as warmly before he walks back into the gas station with you. And when you emerge back out, you’re holding two cups of coffee to go- rain soaking your hair as you hold the closed umbrella beneath your arm.  
Inside the car again, you offer one of the cups towards him as if nothing happened. “I didn’t know if.. you liked sugar or creamer with yours.” You say. “so I brought some of both.” You say, putting the little packages of sugar and creamer on the mid console- where his hand suddenly finds yours, silver rings catching your attention for a second.  
“I’m sorry for earlier.” He apologizes, fingers tracing your cooled down hand that holds your own cup of hot liquid. “I didn’t mean to get so riled up.”  
“You’re stressed.” You shrug. “Its understandable. Just.. maybe take a moment to calm down right now?” You offer, and he nods, a soft smile on his lips.  
“thank you.” He says, before you nod and reach for the sugar packages to dump some into what he realizes is tea.  
“The car is really quiet when it drives.” You say, and he nods, taking a sip from his coffee.  
“It makes no sound.” He confirms. “the most you hear.. are really just the wheels on the road. The engine isn’t  loud at all.” He explains.  
“so when we drive fast it’s not the engine getting louder?” You ask, and he shakes his head.  
“No. It’s all just friction, and the air passing over the car.” He tells you.  
“Its kind of funny how far we’ve come.” You say, slipping out of your shoes to get comfortable in your seat, rain falling onto the roof of the car. “like, we have cars that we can just.. charge like phones. It feels weird.” You giggle, resting your head against the seat, while your back leans against the door.  
“Do you have a driver’s license?” He asks, and you shake your head.  
“I’m too scared to drive.” You deny. “I couldn’t handle memorizing all the rules and keeping them in mind at all times. I rather.. like being the passenger.” You nod. “you drive really well. I’d sleep if we went on a road trip.” You say, and he smiles.  
“I take that as a compliment.” He tells you, and you nod.  
“It was meant to be one.” You affirm. “earlier.. it was funny.” You say, suddenly not looking at anything- and he knows what you mean by ‘earlier’. “it’s like.. my body still reacts the same, but my head knows there’s no danger.” You explain. “they’re.. detached, in a way.”  
“I’m really sorry I lashed out like that.” He apologizes again.  
“don’t be.” You shake your head. “I need to face those situations too. There’s..  no use in wrapping me in bubble wrap. After all, you wanted to see if I can handle you, right?” You ask, and he nods. “See? I think my mind can. My body might not to some degree.”  
“we can work on that.” He gently offers. “your.. body will learn too. I want you to heal with me.” He says, and you nod.  
“I want that too.” You say. “I want you to heal with me too, even if all I can offer is just.. well, nothing.” You laugh, but he shakes his head.  
“You offer me this.” He explains, eyes watching you as his hand reaches out to tuck some of your hair behind your ear. “you offer me a break. A.. moment to calm down, like you said.” He reminds you of your words.  
“if that’s what you need, I can be just that.” You say, and he nods.  
“I couldn’t ask for more.” 
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You’re late, but he can’t bring himself to care. 
He’d told himself to wait and not really indulge in any of this as long as you both don’t really know for sure where you want to take this- but you’re like a drug he can’t help but fall back on, a habit he can’t shake off. And it all happened so naturally, no words spoken as you both simply understood what the other was craving.  
Right now, everything is slow. You’re not even really undressed, him having kicked off his underwear beneath the covers, having had to somewhat get up and pull his travel bag closer to find a condom in there he had packed just in case, even though he did not plan for this.
It should have been his moment of realization. But he just couldn’t hold himself back after the lazy, but warm and almost comforting foreplay you two had indulged in after just having woken up, barely conscious.  
Your shirt is simply pushed up to reveal your naked skin beneath, and his hands are slow as they tug your underwear down your legs, sticky with your arousal from the earlier pleasure he’d brought you with nothing but his hand. You’re so warm from sleeping so close to him underneath the blanket you shared, eyes closed as you enjoy his offering of affection to you, kissing up your neck as he positions himself above you.  
There’s still no need for words. And he also fears that any sentence uttered by him could shatter this delicate moment between the two of you.  
Even though you should’ve woken up an hour ago, making you terribly late now, he just has to have this right now. It’s not just sex, and he hopes it’s not just that to you either- because this feels like a soft confession that’s not done in words, but actions instead. You really do offer him a feeling of weightlessness, as if time doesn’t exist, and no one expects anything of him. You just take him as he is, no questions asked.  
Maybe you’re this timeless because it doesn’t matter to you yet, considering the difference in age between you two. Should he feel bad about it then?  
Possibly. But then again, just like he’s using you to escape his own responsibilities and the pressure of his life, you’re using him just as much for a stable person to hold onto and rely on. And he’s fine with that. A good, healthy relationship should always have a balanced exchange. Give and take in equal amounts. Will this all become a problem in the future? Will you one day realize that he’s not able to offer you all the experiences you should have made in your twenties?  
Maybe. But even so, he realizes you’re right. It still wouldn’t be wasted time, if it’s spent with you.  
So what if he has to book and pay for another flight because you’ll surely miss the one he chose last night? He really couldn’t care less, because there’s no way he’s going to rush this. It’s the first chance at proper sex with you, finally a moment where he can give you actual attention as you deserve, not some quick fuck in the car or random blowjob on your couch. This isn’t just to satisfy your urges.  
This is a chance for him to show you love. 
And it’s clear that this is new to you- because you’re restless, as if you’re constantly expecting him to change pace, go faster, begin to rush towards his own pleasure. But he doesn’t, because that’s not his goal at all. His actual goal is to somewhat prove a point to you- that what he’s offering is not what you’re used to, in no way. He doesn’t see you as someone replaceable, someone who just has to be there, who has to listen to his every demand and do exactly as he says.  
No- he wants you to be yourself. He wants you to gain back that autonomy you rightfully deserve.  
Because one of the biggest things he noticed is how you constantly seem to live in a state of trying to pacify him at all times. As if you have to make sure he’s always happy and content with decisions made and words said, and he wonders just how bad your past relationship must’ve been to cause you to develop such behavior. So right now, he’s attempting to show you that he’s quite honestly the most calm around you anyways, even if you don’t do anything at all but exist alongside him.  
That’s enough already. He doesn’t need anything special from you, but yourself.  
Do you feel it? The way he’s pushing himself inside you isn’t an act of pure lust, but an attempt to connect with you, oddly enough. Jungkook has never seen sex as just that- but he has to admit that with Evelyn, the act had lost it’s appeal to him over time, mostly because he both knew that she was seeking out other people’s company aside from his own, and also because it just felt empty and unfulfilling to him. There was nothing to be gained from it, not for him at least- it only made him feel dirty and used, and towards the end of his relationship with her, he couldn’t bare to really let her touch him any longer. 
No matter what intention she had.  
But right now, with you, he’s feeling something- an urge he’s not felt in a long time, an excitement for possibilities and an eagerness to explore. And right now, he wants to take his time, watch you squirm beneath him, maybe even push you towards the limit of your patience. Will you beg?  
Why does that sound so arousing to him?  
He’s curious to know what you enjoy, what you want to explore, what you think about when you feel that specific need. He wants to ask what it was like before, has so many questions- but he also doesn’t want to speak right now, feels like this is neither the place nor perfect time to have a conversation like this. So instead, he just does what feels right- 
And judging by the way you sigh and reach out to touch him as well, it appears to be exactly what you like as well.  
Though he can also spot that impatience of yours growing, his smile not possible to be hidden as he rests his forehead in the crook of your neck, simply enjoying the closeness of it all as his hands run up and down over your body, exploring what he’s already seen before by now. But it doesn’t get old, doesn’t get boring- it never will be, most likely. He doesn’t know how long this will last, how long you’ll stay with him, or how long he’ll stay with you- but he wouldn’t mind to have you at his side long term, he knows that much.  
Or at least, he wants to try and make this permanent. 
Your legs wrap around his waist, clearly a sign of your dissatisfaction with the way he only occasionally actually moves, if anything, this all could count more as cockwarming than anything else. And now’s the time he has to break his silence, as he chuckles against your skin, placing faint barely felt kisses against the side of your neck. “What’s wrong, darling?” He purrs almost, while your hands move to rest on his shoulders.  
“Move.!” You complain, and he loves the demand so much. Not because he wants to go faster, but because you demand anything at all- something you should do more often. Maybe this is his way to go, moving forward. Maybe he could fuck some confidence into you.  
He surely wouldn’t mind doing it that way.  
“I am moving.” He teases, his low tone still raspy from lack of use during sleep causing your core to clench around him.  
“Our flight..” You mumble, fingers running over the back of his neck, causing him to involuntarily shiver.  
“I’ll book a different one later.” He denies, adjusting his position a little, pressing himelf as deep as he can inside you, leaning back to have his hands on your thighs, fingers running over the warm skin.  
“But that’s wasted money..” You say, unable to really resist his touch however, your arguing weak in nature and delivery. “And you’re needed back at work..”  
“I’m needed here, right now.” He instead teases, using your legs to pull you closer, slowly starting to thrust, your chest swaying alongside the pace he sets. “By someone I find way more important than work.”  
“But-” You start, but he decides to play dirty now, delivering a particularly hard thrust to shut you up or at least give him the chance to speak before you can finish your sentence.  
“You’re important.” He simply chuckles. “Right now, and afterwards, too.” He makes sure to tell you, before he leans over again, faces close. “Can I kiss you?” He wonders, eyes falling to your lips for just a second. “You can say no. I won’t be upset at it.”  
But you nod. “I want you to.” You say, for a second questioning if your words might’ve been too demanding- but it doesn’t appear to be the case, as he leans in to catch your lips, first kiss between you both passionate and warm- not hot, nowhere near burning. It’s like a promise, a silent gesture of devotion from him, an offering of his to show that he’s actually taking this seriously. 
He’s in it now. This is no longer just playing around.  
He’s not going to tell you he loves you- because he’s not there yet, and he knows neither are you. But he truly believes that these feelings can grow if he nurtures them well, and if you accept them and let him plant them in your heart. He wants the vines of what might grow to connect you both, because that’s what you both deserve.  
He knows his own worth. And he wants you to know yours, too.  
His lip piercings are a little foreign, but in a way, they make it a unique experience to you. Or maybe it’s the sincerity he has in his actions, the way he treats you, the fact that he pays so much attention to you as well during this whole thing. You’re not used to this. He doesn’t seem to expect anything of you, and it makes you a bit anxious.  
But even that, he notices.  
“Let go, darling.” He chuckles against your lips, barely apart from you. “I’ll take care of you.” 
“But shouldn’t you be taken care of too?” You worry, and he just smiles.  
“This is more than enough for me, trust me.” Jungkook responds, moving a bit faster now. “I just want you.” He tells you, and you're sure he doesn’t know the weight of that statement. 
Or how long you’ve waited for someone to say it like that. 
Because even though it’s said right now, during the act, but it’s not actually sexually charged. It’s not said in the context of ‘I want you right now’- but it’s more generalized. He wants you.. In general. Not just in this moment, or for this specific action.  
So when you simply trust yourself in the heat of the moment, turning the tables or more so positions, you feel a strange sense of confidence as you now ride him, his hands on your hips taken by yours, fingers intertwining while he watches you for a moment, clearly fighting the urge to just relax and close his eyes, sight of you too pretty to miss. But he can’t help it, leans his head back into the pillows with a lazy smirk on his lips, pulling you closer to wrap his arms around you, slow pace all you both need as you push each other over the edge, coming undone at different times- but still, that doesn’t make the moment any less meaningful.  
He keeps you in this position for a moment while he spills into the condom inside of you, not utterly exhausted, but entirely satisfied nonetheless. He feels nice, like his mind and body have been reset, truly giving him a fresh start to the day as he finally opens his eyes after bathing in his own afterglow.  
A glance to the side offers him the time. Your flight has left almost half an hour ago by now. 
“We missed it.” You mumble sleepily, and he nods, before he playfully manhandles you around to lay on your back on the bed again, pulling your shirt over your head. “Jungkook!” You laugh, and he chuckles along, attacking your shoulder and neck with kisses and even bites, visibly energized now.  
“Good.” He purrs against your skin. “Up for a round two?” 
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You feel a bit embarrassed. 
You’ve been home for two days now, and you miss him. Terribly so. Even though you try and occupy yourself with work, your mind keeps going back to the time spent with him, and you’re conflicted. Should you reach out? Text him? He told you he wouldn’t mind, but he also seemed a little stressed about work, so you probably shouldn’t bother him.  
Maybe you could ask Tae? 
But he doesn’t really give you an answer, somehow sounding oddly reluctant even to just talk about his friend in any way, and it makes you suspicious. So today, you finally jump over your shadow, and text him- just to get no reply for hours. It’s not until later that day that you receive a phone call instead- his voice sounding tired. “I’m sorry I’ve been silent.” He simply says, and you’re immediately alarmed.  
“What’s that noise in the background?” You want to know, because it sounds very much like something you’re very much familiar with. And with the way he dodges an answer by sighing first, you just know what’s going on. “Which hospital are you in? Do you need anything?” You rant. “What even happened?” 
“Nothing happened-” He quietly argues, sounding awfully like a scolded child almost, but you cut him off.  
“Well something clearly happened for you to be in hospital!” You argue, before you calm down. “I’m sorry, I just-” 
But Jungkook reassures you as always, giving you the name of the hospital he’s staying at, as well as the room he’s in, so you can visit him. And the moment you walk in with some snacks approved by the doctors, you feel like you’re the one in need of medical attention.  
“What happened?” You weakly ask, carefully sitting down next to his bed where he’s in, a hand running over his face, careful not to twist the delicate tubes connected to the needle in his arm.  
“Just an accident.” He says, though he’s not looking at you- and it makes you anxious.  
“What accident?” You ask, and when he doesn’t answer, you press on, unable to keep your emotions in check properly. “Jungkook please. You said we should be honest-” You softly say, and he sighs, licking his lips.  
“I.. Fell asleep.” He mumbles quietly. “While driving to a meeting. I was late, and it was.. Just for a split second- and suddenly it all went to shit.” He explains. “I was- the road was empty. And it was so fucking late, I- don't know what I was thinking.”  
It’s quiet after that, apart from staff and visitors moving outside in the hall, barely heard through the closed door, but the machine that’s keeping close measurement of his vitals occasionally makes a sound.
Jungkook barely manages to look at you, and when he does, he’s not sure what that expression on your face means. You’re looking at a nasty bruise on his wrist, face unreadable, before you eventually speak again.  
“Jungkook.” You say his name, and your voice is bone chillingly serious, demanding his full attention.  
“Don’t you ever do that again.” 
Your words are heavy, full of emotion and yet delivered in a monotone anger that makes him realize the gravity of the situation. He’s lucky he didn’t hit anyone in that tiny second, should be forever grateful nothing major happened at all except for his car getting crashed beyond repair.  
“I’m sorry-” He begins, but you shake your head, speaking after you take a deep breath as if to collect yourself.  
“No, I don’t want an apology.” You deny. “You can’t do this.” You say, and he’s a bit unsure what you mean, when you turn to look at him with glossy eyes. “You can’t make me get attached just to... pull something like this.” You say. “That’s cruel, Jungkook. You could’ve killed someone.” You tell him, and he nods, quietly. “Get a cab next time, or have someone drive you, fuck I don’t care!” You become a bit louder now. “But you can’t do this. You can’t be this selfish.” Is your response, as you finally properly look at him, close to tears. “I’m starting to need you, Jungkook.” You confess.  
“You can’t leave me alone like that.”  
And at the first tear falling, he chooses to ignore his physical pain, to move over a little and have you sit on the side of his bed, clinging to him as the full force of it all hits you, arms reaching out for him, grabbing hard at the hospital gown he’s in, desperate to hold him.  
As if you need to know he’s still there, that he’ll be fine.  
“I’ll make sure to rest properly from now on.” He promises, hand that’s not hooked up to anything running over your back as you cry into his chest. “I’ll take better care of myself. I promise.” He tells you, and you nod, though you stay close.  
It takes a good moment for you to calm down again, and when you are, he uses that energy you both have now to dig a little deeper.  
“I’m sorry I didn’t reach out, by the way.” He tells you, and you shrug. “No, I mean it. There’s no excuse for it.”  
“You were busy.” You mumble, but he shakes his head.  
“Doesn’t matter.” He denies. “I’ll make more time for you. I need to rest anyways, and even after I’m healed, I should take a step back in general. Like I said-” He offers, wincing a bit when a movement causes him pain. “-I have to take better care of myself. For you.”  
“I’m sorry.” You mumble, detaching yourself a little from him again as you sit up, feet dangling off the edge of the bed. “I’m getting clingy already-”  
“No, please.” He encourages, giving you a soft smile. “Be clingy. I promise you, I’m just.. It's just a bit odd to me at the moment.” Jungkook reveals. “I’ve not had someone care for me in such a way in.. A while.” Or ever, he wants to actually say- but he doesn’t want to put so much pressure on you.  
He can leave those big confessions to a later date.  
“Should I.. do you need help at home once you get out of here?” You wonder. “I could help you? Or, maybe you can.. I don’t know-”  
“I’d really appreciate your company.” He smiles. “And your help too. But mostly your company.” Jungkook teases, making you laugh in relief.  
Not just because he clearly looks worse than it actually is- 
But also because his smile looks oddly youthful- and most of all, truly genuine. 
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cipheress-to-k-pop · 2 months
Text
romantic vs platonic
Pairing: Dick Grayson x Reader (Established Relationship), Conner Kent x Reader (Platonic)
Word Count: 1k words
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romantic:
Dick burrowed his face into your neck, breathing in your familiar scent and letting out a deep sigh once your fingers began running through his hair, gently massaging his head.
He took another deep inhale and twirled a lock of your hair in his fingers as he began placing kisses to your neck. It was that one strand that was always curlier than the rest.
"Your hair smells great, baby." He murmured and your eyes fluttered shut, the warmth in Dick's embrace beginning to put you to sleep. You thanked him for the compliment with a small kiss to the crown of his head.
"I love it when my pillow smells like your shampoo the next day." He confessed and you melted.
A hot blush was growing on your face and your bleary eyes took in the sincerity of his smile. Pressing a palm against his chest, feeling his faint heartbeat beneath your fingertips, you leaned close to kiss him.
“I love you.”
"I love you more."
platonic:
You sighed, letting your hair out of the uncomfortable ponytail that you had haphazardly put up so that it wouldn't be in your face while you ate lunch.
That single strand had been uncomfortably tugging against your scalp for last thirty minutes and you gently ran your fingers through the stands, bringing instant relief—
"Woah!!"
That was until someone reached out and yanked your hair so hard you almost fell flat on your behind.
"Dude, what shampoo do you use? Your hair smells great!" Conner commented, reaching out to grab a lock of your hair so he could sniff it once again and you smacked his hand away, staring at your best friend with an expression of disgust mixed with absolute bewilderment.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?"
***
romantic:
You stepped out of the bathroom, gently toweling your hair dry as you tossed some clothes in the hamper as you stepped back into the bedroom.
Dick looked up from his place on the bed, giving you a passing glance before he nearly broke his neck to look back at you in surprise, a grin growing on his face that was partly lovestruck, partly teasing but completely genuine.
"Is that my T shirt?"
You chuckled at the sight of his impish grin that threatened to split his face, choosing to ignore his blatant staring of your ass that peeked from the hem of the shirt.
"Yeah? Is that okay? I didn't bring any clothes with me." You explained, towel joining your clothes in the hamper when you had decided your hair was dry enough and you perched yourself on his lap, his hands immediately coming to wrap around your waist.
"More than okay," He chirped and you kissed his expectant lips, "You look beautiful."
platonic:
The amount of time it took Conner to recognize that there was something different about you was absolutely disappointing as you lay in wait, glancing up at him occasionally as you absentmindedly browsed through your phone.
"Is that my T shirt?"
You hid the cheshire grin on your face and instead schooled an expression of surprise, "Is this your shirt? Oh, I had absolutely no idea! I thought it was a communal shirt! Considering it was left in the dryer for the last couple days!"
He rolled his eyes, immediately knowing what you were on.
"Because you see, I know you wouldn't leave your clothes in the dryer for days so that it would impede me while I was trying to get my laundry done after the countless reminders I had given you. So I just assumed that this shirt was available for the taking. You know what the scholars say: 'Finder's keepers, losers weepers'."
You still managed to give him a smile even though your words came out through gritted teeth.
"I'm sorry, alright? I won't do it again."
You gave him a fake chuckle, "Yes, you won't because as of this moment you don't have any clothes left to launder. Considering they are my clothes now."
He glared at you.
***
romantic:
"Babe! You're never going to believe what just ha—What's wrong?" The delight in his voice immediately dimmed as soon as he caught a glance of you buried underneath the covers with your back facing him.
He knew you were awake; the frantic motions you had made to wipe away your tears as soon as he entered had told him enough.
"Baby, what happened? Why are you crying?"
He didn't even wait for a response before sitting beside you on the bed, leaning down to press several kisses to your hair. You didn't reply, sniffling and hiding your face against your pillow as you felt a fresh new wave of tears hit you.
"Oh, darling."
And then you were back again in the warmth of his loving arms. He wrapped himself tightly around you, making the heavy pain in your chest alleviate and be replaced with the content you usually found when lost in his embrace.
Before you could control it, you were sobbing softly into his shoulder while he cradled you against him, gently patting your back and raking his fingers through your hair, "Let it out; let it all out."
platonic:
Conner could only stare at you in equal parts of concern and disbelief as you continued to wail in front of him, tears streaking down your cheeks in fat droplets, each followed by an equally fat successor, all while you continued to wheeze and gasp for air in the middle of your sobs.
"And-and-and-*gasp*-then he-then he-*gasp*-he—"
"BITCH SPIT IT OUT!"
"He hung up on meeeee!" You wept, now hiding your splotchy face in your hands. He let out an affronted scoff, offended on your behalf but still sitting beside you to gently pat your back. Well, he thought it was gentle. You, on the other hand, felt the sobs being knocked out of you with each 'pat'.
When your loud wails eventually dissolved into equally loud squawks as you attempted to catch your breath, he asked, "Do you want me to beat him up?"
Finally, you were able to crack a smile.
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615 notes · View notes
dragonsholygrail · 3 months
Note
A monster boyfriend would be fantastic.... Can you imagine him coming to your defense when you have a toxic parent? I'm on the obese side but very short. Last night......a parent called me lazy and fat....despite my efforts t olose weight for health reasons. Now, I feel too scared to eat.
I cried so hard, and wish I had some intimidating boyfriend that would've made my mom shut up and come to my defense. Also, I feel like monsters would not care so much about human standards of beauty. (Even at my healthiest weight, I wasn't like stick thin)
Oh, hunny, I feel you. I’m in the same boat. I’m so sorry you went through that. You are absolutely beautiful the way you are. Do what you need for your health but know that being skinny doesn’t equal being healthy. Please eat, love, because making sure you’re eating all your meals is a part of health. I know that a monster would love you no matter what and would embrace you entirely.
I’ve been through a similar experience and I know I would’ve loved to read something to comfort me so I hope this can comfort you <3
Perfection to Me
Monster bf x chubby fem!reader - tw fatphobia, toxic parent[ing], hurt/comfort, protective bf, body worshipping, multiple orgasms, creampie
You had been so excited. You had recently gotten your very first boyfriend and you were so excited to introduce him to your family and friends.
Of course, all of your friends had been a bit surprised when they first met and they were faced with a huge and intimidating monster. But in reality, your monster bf was the sweetest man you had ever met. He was protective and he cared for you more than you ever could’ve imagined.
And he proved it to you time and time again how seriously he took your courtship. How deeply he considered you already to be his mate. Not shying away from using the term regularly.
All of this just drove your excitement to the point where you couldn’t wait to introduce him to your mother. To show her you’d finally found someone.
That excitement slowly dwindled. More and more as the night went on. It had all been going so well. Your mother greeted your monster bf with delight. Clearly happy, if not surprised, by his presence. It was easily overlooked.
But then the comments started. Snide in-passing comments. Comments about your relationship, your weight, and worst of all your eats habits.
You focus on staring down at the table, trying to keep your tears at bay. Having been so used to swallowing down these comments without a retort. Luckily your monster bf isn’t.
A loud slamming of fists rattles the dinner table, causing you to look at your bf with a sharp gasp. From the corner of your eye you can see your mother do the same.
“Who do you think you are?” Your bf snaps, his hands clenched. Only barely holding back his simmering rage.
Word after word he had been tortured by your mother’s lashing tongue. He had no idea how you must be feeling. But after seeing the tears in your eyes he could no longer sit back and take it.
“Excuse me?” Your mother asks, eyes wide and partially frightened by the aura which radiated from your monster bf.
“Was I not clear?! Who do you think you are to be speaking to my mate like that?” He questions, standing up. Only making his form that much more intimidating to witness. Not willing to listen to any bullshit from your mother.
“Well, I.. I am her mother!” Your mother replies weakly, visibly shrinking back in her chair.
“I have known mothers that eat their young who are kinder than you,” your bf lashes out, claws sinking into his own skin. You wince seeing it, your worry for him growing. Not wanting him to hurt himself because of her.
“How dare you!” Your mother shrieks, hand clutching her chest.
“Baby, plea-“
“No!” Your bf snarls, head whipping to face you, and stopping the excuse from leaving your lips. His arm joining it to stop you from reaching for him.
But as his eyes meet yours, they immediately soften. He leans down, licking and nuzzling into your cheek in a silent apology.
“I will not stand idly by and watch as an insignificant disrespects you,” his voice rumbles into your skin as he moves down to your neck, scenting you. Marking you as his to care for now.
“Insignificant!”
Monster bf tenses hearing your mother’s voice again. Returning to his full height he glowers down at her.
“It is a mother’s job to nurture and protect,” he states simply, making his opinion of her treatment of you quite clear.
“I am protecting her! Protecting her from herself and from everyone out there,” your mother finally snaps. Standing up from the table even in the face of your bf.
Your bf bristles, needing to pause for a moment. Ensuring he doesn’t lose control of himself. After a silent beat he slowly walks around the table and towers over her.
“In this moment you are a far greater enemy to her than anything she will face out in the world…”
You watch as his words sink in. Your mother’s face growing pale and her mouth finally staying closed.
When he’s sure she won’t try and reply, your monster bf moves around her, heading back to you. He holds out his hand which you take without hesitation. Your heart nearly beating out of your chest.
It’s only when your bf immediately reaches with his free hand to wipe softly at your cheeks do you realize you had been crying.
“Come, sweet mate. I think it’s time we leave,” he says lowly as he gathers you up in his arms. You don’t even think about resisting, just letting your bf swiftly lead you out of the home.
You could tell your monster bf was angry. He was furious. And it showed in the way he ravishes you the moment you two get home.
As soon as the door closes behind you he’s plucking you up from the floor with ease and throwing your body gently down on the bed. Endless praises leave his lips, clearly setting out to replace every mean word your mother had uttered throughout the night.
He peels your clothes off slowly, despite the fact he was practically shaking with his restraint. Revealing your beautiful big body inch by inch. As soon as you are bare he pounces on you, showing how much he treasures every curve of your body.
His face nuzzles into your thick neck as he grinds his cock against your pussy lips, all while telling you how hard you make him. Not stopping until you come apart, dousing his length with your essence.
He makes sure to take care of every inch of you. Moving down to latch onto your nipples. Sucking and massaging at your supple flesh until you gush all over the sheets from the toe-curling stimulation. Your body spent but your monster bf not having finished with you, evident by the feral glint in his eye.
Taking his time, setting his own aching need aside, to slowly kiss down the curve of your stomach. His claws digging into your sides and loving how you fill up his hands.
Though his hands suddenly have a far better use as they spread your meaty thighs for him. He dives right in, stuffing his face into your fat pussy and completely smothering himself in your folds. His tongue devouring you like you’re the only thing he’ll ever want to eat again.
Fingers joining soon after, needing to fill you up even deeper as his tongue laps up your essence. His hand and mouth work in total sync till your body is shaking with the need to cum. His mouth sucks greedily at your clit while his fingers curl along your walls. As soon as he finds that sweet spot within you, you’re erupting all over his tongue. White dots briefly clouding your vision from the intensity.
Monster bf barely gives you a moment to breathe as he rises onto his knees, that look in his eyes only growing darker with each orgasm that overtakes you. His eyes rake over your limp form.
“You are perfection,” he breathes out before finally sinking into your tight cunt. You both moan as your bodies connect, your back arching as you show off that body that’s so beautiful to him.
He can’t hold back any longer as he furiously fucks his cock into you, bodies slapping together in perfect harmony. Growls and deep rumbling noises escaping him as your body brings him a pleasure he’s never otherwise experienced.
Together you two bring each other to orgasm after orgasm, never getting enough of each other. It’s not until neither of you can physically not move that you take a break.
“You hungry, love?” He asks as you two lay back on the bed, limbs completely wrapped around each other.
“Hmm, no. Not really,” you reply quietly, your appetite not quite having returned after dinner was interrupted. Monster bf senses this, his lip quivering as he visibly holds back a growl.
“Well, what if we change the venue, huh? You can eat off of me,” he suggests, a lighthearted smugness moving across his features. His free arm moving to rest behind his head while the other keeps a firm grip on you.
“Oh, well that changes things then,” you say through your laughter. Your bfs smugness grows as he shifts down and spreads out across the bed. Showing off his body to you. A body that’s goal is to give you more pleasure than you could dream of.
“Yeah, it does. You can eat a fucking feast off of me…” your bf says with a grin, all in order to bring more of that sweet laughter out of you. To have it tickle his senses. He’d do anything to make you laugh. He leans down and nibbles at your neck, causing you to giggle lightly. That’s it. “And that’s exactly what I plan to have you do.”
Monster bf doesn’t given you any time to respond before he’s back to kissing the daylights out of you.
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russellsppttemplates · 5 months
Text
I'm right here! (Oscar Piastri)
People seem to forget you're dating Oscar
Note: english is not my first language. Another Oscar piece 🫶
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!
my masterlist
Cw: jealous themes
Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3
"Do you think this will translate as well on the track though?", Phil, the head of the engineering department, asked as you showed him the latest set of data.
"Even with the interval we've set for changes, these numbers show it could improve performance, especially in race pace", you pointed to the calculations on the side.
"We would only have it for Miami, though", he reasoned, "we don't have enough time to get this done for Shanghai and I don't think it would be wise to test this in a track we haven't raced in five years", Amelia argued as you nodded in agreement, "but it looks promising - good job, Y/N", she patted your back.
"Would you feel comfortable talking about it in the meeting with Zak, Andrea and the mechanics? You have been the one working the most with this, makes sense for you to be the one taking point. Lando and Oscar should join you as well - I think they're doing something on the Sim", William mused.
"Absolutely! Yes, Oscar said he was driving a new set up and strategy Tom also wants to discuss in the meeting", you offered with a smile.
"Having insider information makes this easier - I don't have to check every single e-mail and wonder about things, especially Oscar's schedule", Amelia chuckled, rubbing your shoulder before she got up.
As everyone gathered in the meeting room, you set your laptop up so the latest data would be seen by everyone as you spoke about the changes, "we don't think nor expect this will be ready for China, but we're hoping to have the new package in Miami already - gives us enough time to work on it and the track there is ideal for us to have an idea of how this could play out for the rest of the season", you concluded.
"I agree - I think China will be damage control racing and we're accepting it as it goes", Andrea stated.
"We just need to get going with these then and also get the guys to try it out on the- Oh! Speaking of the devil", Zak chuckled as Oscar and Lando stepped inside the meeting room.
"So that's that, I think - thank you for all your work and let's hope we can bring some points next weekend", the British driver said before everyone scattered out.
Closing your laptop and getting your tablet, you held them against your torso so you could go and set them back to your station before lunch. You didn't make it very far as Oscar stood just outside the room, his hand snaking up your back carefully as he didn't want to startle you.
"Good morning, love", he smiled, kissing your cheek and walking with you.
"Morning, Osc", you kissed his cheek back, "how was training?", you wondered.
"Same old - went for a run this time, though, it was nice enough outside", your boyfriend offered as you reached your desk, tidying it a little bit before leaving to get some lunch, walking hand in hand.
You didn't expect to fall for a driver, especially after the relationship you had with Lando. You behaved like siblings, often pranking eachother, and it had helped you grow more confident around him and the senior staff when you felt you were all but a small intern. Over the years, you grew more comfortable as your ideas and pitches would get considered and tested, finally feeling like your place was well earned and that at the right time, the development would come to bring McLaren to the top where it belonged.
When Oscar joined the team, however, you didn't expect to feel the way you felt about the Australian driver. He was handsome, very shy and very kind and thoughtful as he sat all through the meetings as you explained the changes. Jeopardising your career was something you didn't want to do, but after some not so careful touches and glances, the team assured you it wouldn't be an issue in case you and Oscar were to pursue a relationship together.
"Here's my favourite team-mate! And she brought Oscar with her!", Lando joked as you sat at the same table as him.
Swatting his neck playfully, you sat down next to him so you could face Oscar as he put his tray down, "I will revoke new updates package from you and you'll be stuck in the midfield", you taunted before you started eating.
"Do you want to spend the night at my place? I need to sort a few things out still this afternoon, but I'm hoping I can leave on time today", you squinted your eyes.
"What do you mean on time?", Lando quirked an eyebrow.
"Yesterday, she got so caught up in the calculations, I barely got a text out of her when I asked her if she wanted to have dinner with me", Oscar chuckled as you held hands on top of the table, playing with his fingers, "what was it you texted me? 'I'm having a breakthrough' I think it was", your boyfriend offered.
"I did, though! Amelia checked it over and we might be onto something - I have to go to Race Base this afternoon so they can check them out", you shrugged your shoulders."We're spending the whole afternoon in the sim", Oscar checked with you, "when you get off, then we can leave together - how does that sound?".
Coming back to your place after you stopped by the supermarket, you set the bag on the counter and pulled out all of the ingredients you bought to make sure the dinner would be suitable and appropriate to Oscar's plan.
"I haven't had a proper cuddle today", Oscar pulled you to him, beggining to litter kisses on your forehead all the way to your cheeks and jaw, "I can't ever do this at the center", he mumbled against your neck, tickling you.
"We could, just where there are no other team members", you giggled before cupping his cheeks, "which happens to be nowhere most of the time", before you kissed his lips.
"I'm going to start working on the chicken", Oscar said after you stole a few kisses, "are you going to be in the Center for the race?".
"No, I'm travelling with the team", you smiled as you took the fresh pasta out of the bag, "which means we can spend more time together - and people will actually see us together", you mumbled the last part.
"People know we're together, love", he smiled, cutting up the last bit of garlic and tossing it in the pan.
"Sometimes it doesn't seem like it - they didn't see me in Jeddah and the rumours flew out of control", you wiped your hands on the kitchen towell before hugging Oscar's back, resting your cheek between his shoulder blades.
"You know how the media works - they see the smallest hint to something they want to see and then they're there", he offered, taking one of his hands to squeeze your hip, "you're the one here, aren't you?", he tsked.
.
"Where are you going?", Oscar asked as he saw you grab a tablet and push the chair back under the table, "I thought we could have some time together now".
"The stewards picked out eight cars at random to get checked over a few components - Mike and Barry are waiting for me", you offered, pecking his lips quickly, "hopefully they're just not messing around with our schedule because everything is supposed to be how it is!", you smiled before you started to walk out.
"I'll go with you, then", your boyfriend assured, "can't have you go to the wolves on your own when you can have company, beautiful".
Oscar walked up to the building with you, kissing your temple before you stepped inside, "I left some data from the sprint for you to look at, and tell Lando I also left a file for him with his tire deg - I told Will to do it, but he might forget!", you alerted before letting him go.
Knowing how long it would take, he went back to the McLaren garage, stopping whenever fans snapped a couple of pictures or autographs.
By the time you were back in the hotel room after the sprint and qualifying, Oscar went to the bathroom so he could have a shower, leaving you to lay on the bed and scroll through social media.
You looked at the photos the media team had posted, along with the stories where you could spot yourself in the background and spotted a few comments as you flicked through the carrousel of pictures, the comments under it weren't something you hadn't seen before.
Hear me out, Oscar and Elaine are the perfect match
I know, right? 😭 honestly, they need to get together! They would be so cute together
She's so polite and put together, but I get rhe vibe that she's really shy too, they would be perfect for eachother
Are we forgetting Y/N? aka Oscar's girlfriend
I still can't believe the people at the top have let their engineer date a driver
Y/N's way too out there, I call PR relationship
She couldn't even build a great car, I'm not sure why you would defend her
She was literally the reason the car and the turnaround last year and we started getting podiums?
These have been the best 12 months in terms of development, what are you on about? Just because she's with Oscar, you can't dig at her like that
The last few comments don't come up too often, but you had to admit it was nice when they did even if they did nothing to the way you felt.
The green eyed monster took over more times that you'd like. You work with numbers, probabilities and direct correlations, so it was hard to miss the reason behind how you were feeling.
"Why are you looking at your phone like that? You promised you wouldn't work once we got back to the room", Oscar warned, using the towell to dry his hair before he looked at you again.
"I'm not working", you mumbled, locking the phone and setting it on your stomach, pondering whether or not you should talk to Oscar about this.
"That long silence tells me that there is something bothering you", Oscar began, "I'm not saying you have to talk about it right now - I won't force you to -, but I'm here for you when you want to do it", he offered earnestly.
"I'm jealous of you and Elaine", you stated, earning a quirked eyebrow from your boyfriend.
"Me and Elaine? The communications' intern?", he looked for some clarification.
"Yes!", you answered loudly.
"We don't - I don't even spend that much time with her, what do you mean?", Oscar asked.
"I know you don't, but people online seem to think you should! First, it was that actress that McLaren invited for Abu Dhabi - the weekend where Natalie and Naomi kept approaching us because they wanted to chat and there was actual visual proof we were together after all the rumours -, now they're saying how you should go out with Elaine!", you admitted, "they're all saying you really should have someone and that she should be the one to go, that she has all the qualities you should look for and I-", you took a big breath in, "I'm literally over there, every single day of the races - in the garage, sometimes in the pitwall!", you stated, "I barely do any races from the Center anymore, so it's not like people forgot that I exist!".
"Love, I'd never do that to you - you're the only person I care about like that", Oscar replied instantly.
"I know you don't, but it hurts to see", you admitted, "comments people make about my boyfriend and how he really should start dating someone when our relationship is public - I'm there, I see them, they see me!", you let a tear fall down your cheek, "there's only so much I can do to make it obvious, Osc!".
Oscar sat down next to you on the bed, throwing the towell on the floor for the moment so he could pull you to face him.
"Y/N, I didn't know it was bothering you so much, I don't even notice all of that", your boyfriend craddled your face in his hands, thumbs wiping the tears that continued to fall and looking into your eyes.
"I never told you and I know you don't read all of the comments", you reasoned, "I just thought it would stop at some point! Everyone keeps saying that you should have someone and I want them to think I'm that someone - because I am!", you said bitterly.
"Is there something you'd like me to do? That would make you feel better about it?", Oscar combed your bangs away and behind your ears.
"What can we do anyway? Have you walk around with a t-shirt that says "I have a girlfriend - Y/N, the engineer"?", you scoffed.
"I will do that if you think it will help - throw in a headband with "Y/N's boyfriend" too if it helps!", he tried to pry a smile out of you.
"Don't be silly", you playfully shoved his chest before holding his hands in yours, "I honestly have no idea what to do, but I know I want it to stop without putting our jobs on the line", you pouted.
"Maybe an Instagram post from us then? Something chilled but serious enough so anyone can get the hint - and I wouldn't mind arriving into the paddock with you in the morning", your boyfriend suggested.
"Oscar, I have to be there way earlier than you need to", you argued.
"Then I'll be there earlier, I'll have breakfast there with you and we'll spend more time together in front of everyone - as much as you feel comfortable with", Oscar offered you an assuring smile, "I don't want anyone else the way I want you, I don't love anyone the way I love you, Y/N".
Smiling at the honesty and safety he was transmitting you, you kissed his lips, starting with small pecks before one last long kiss, letting your foreheads touch as you pulled away, "thank you, Osc, I love you".
The next morning, reporters were surprised when they saw the McLaren driver show up in the paddock so early, his hand laced in yours as they asked a couple of questions.
"My girlfriend had to come in earlier, so I thought I'd join her and see a little bit of the preparations", Oscar replied before you continued to walk to the McLaren hospitality.
"Is it bring your boyfriend to work day?", Anna asked after her usual morning greeting.
"He's always with me at work though", you squinted before giggling, "but I really need people to know he's mine and that I'm here!", you half joked.
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h2llish · 4 months
Note
i've been following your blog for a while and absolutely adore your writing!
if its okay i'd love to see something with either leona or jamil (up to you!) and a reader who falls asleep on their shoulder during some sort of nrc road trip.. i'm not sure if nrc would have buses per say considering all the magic and stuff but the concept of an nrc school trip seems super interesting to me so if you're up for the request by all means just have fun with it!! i do notice that your requests are semi open so feel free to decline ofc !
— ☁️
⁀➷ ˖ ROAD TRIP DROWSINESS
notes ─── hi anon! i’m so happy you like my writing! i don't think they'd have buses at nrc because of the mirror, but crowley would probably spring a sudden road trip on them which would just confuse the students, because why? (i also imagine their bus would probably be a bit fancier? idk how to explain it but nothing like the busses i'm used to.)
LEONA KINGSCHOLAR ─── a wave of drowsiness leads you to find comfort on his shoulder ♡ fluff, gender neutral, can be read platonic or romantic, not proofread
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transportation for students at nrc was not hard, all they had to do was enter the dark mirror and then they found themselves safely at their destination. so if it was that easy, why in the world was the headmage so adamant that they boarded this bus like they were kids back in middle school? ─ a road trip was his very (might many students say stupid) answer.
the only person who seemed to not have a problem with this sudden turn of events, was the magicless prefect from ramshackle. you didn't give any complaints or groan about using the easy way to get to the destination. you just nodded when the headmage announced the decision.
students were chosen at random, names drawn from a hat (a method the headmage seemed to rely on often).  and as the prefect, and the designated scapegoat for everything crowley did, you were of course among that group, with your dire beast other half. 
“i don't get it,” grim frowned, sitting on your shoulder as you approached the bus, where many familiar faces waited to board. “why can't we just use the mirror?”
ace was walking alongside you, being one of the people drawn to join the group. he had decided to met you at ramshackle, knowing you would inevitably have to board the bus as well. “i think the headmage called it some sort of bonding experience. don't know how a hours-long road will be a bonding experience.”
grim grumbled, turning his head to look at your face. you have yet to say anything to add to the conversation. “whaddya’ think, [name]?”
“what?” you blinked, sending a glance to the dire beast before looking ahead of you once more. “what do i think about what?”
“were you even listening to anything we just said?” ace sighed. 
you hummed, “i’ve learned to tune you guys out the moment you start speaking.” ─ and then you were wincing as the two of them shouted, leaning your head away from the monster as he and ace expressed how offended they were.
you sighed, this was going to be a long ride.
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and right you were. 
things were okay (as okay as a group of irritable teenage boys with magic on a bus could be) during the first hour. but as the first hour turned to half, and you found yourself growing drowsy, you attempted to doze off, at least for a good twenty minutes. you were unsuccessful, as the moment you closed your eyes, you were quickly opening them to glance at a yelling grim.
epel and sebek, also being among the names drawn, were sitting next to you. epel and grim looked ready to pounce on an unnamed student who seemed to have picked a fight with them. ace didn't do much to stop the argument, in fact, he was actively encouraging it. and sebek, while he made an attempt to hold back a seething grim, was not of much help either. 
you sighed, but made no move to stop it ─ you expected something to happen eventually, and you weren't all that up to being the “reasonable” one of the group. you aren't sure what the argument was about, but neither did you care. if grim got in trouble for attacking a student, it would come back to bite you, but that was something for future you to worry about.
you glanced around the bus, before your attention landed on the savanaclaw housewarden sitting alone. ─ your friends continued to argue with the random guy, and you were sure they had no intention of ending the argument anytime soon. and you would rather sleep off some time on the road rather than listen to your friends go back and forth with someone you didn't even know the name of. you stood from your seat, uncaring of whether or not it was okay to do so as you approached the empty seat. 
leona had his head down, probably napping, the same thing you wanted to do. when you sat down beside him his ears twitched and he lifted his head to look at you, probably intending to scowl and scare off whoever had been stupid enough to sit beside him, until he realized it was you.
“what are you doing?” he frowned at you, but you went unfazed.
“sitting next to you, obviously.”
leona rolled his eyes, “why?”
instead of giving a verbal answer, you pointed at your friends, where sebek now had a grip on the scruff of grim’s neck, keeping him from jumping at the student. ace was laughing, offering no help to the half-fae. epel was no better than grim, with sebek’s arm held out in front of him, keeping him from doing anything.
"so you came to bother me instead?" he asked, and you looked at him straight-faced.
"yup."
leona sighed, but he didn't tell you to scram (not like you would if he did). he didn't say anything else, only close his eyes again and turning away, likely to try and nap. you weren't offended by his lack of reply, leaning your head back against the seat and trailing your eyes over the bus and your peers.
the longer you sat in somewhat silence ─ save for the incoherent yelling from your friends, you had for the most part zoned out, and the chatter of those on board ─ you found yourself falling to the drowsiness that have been interrupted before. you closed your eyes and let the movement of the bus guide you to sleep.
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leona was awake, annoyed by the bus and those on the bus. his ears twitched when he heard your breathing slow beside him and he lifted his head, just as your head lolled to the side and you leaned against his shoulder.
he sighed, but made no move to push you off, glancing around you at the rest of the students of nrc, who were all either sleeping themselves, or chatting with friends. he leaned his head back, eyeing you as you shifted for a moment before relaxing again.
"where'd [name] go?" leona could hear your friends ask, no longer distracted by the argument that they were having with the random student.
he looked back at them, just in time to catch ace's eye, who was the first to see you sleeping against leona. he looked ready to say something, but leona narrowed his eyes on the first year. ace immediately shut his mouth, grinning awkwardly as he turned back to his friends.
leona huffed, looking back down at you to make sure you didn't stir. he adjusted in more comfortable position, an arm resting behind you on the seat, allowing you to lean closer, and hopefully, be more comfortable than leaning against his shoulder the way you had. and then he closed his eyes and joined you in a nap for the rest of the ride. (at least until they stopped for a break.)
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this wasn't proofread so there will be probably be mistakes, i'll try to come back to edit later!
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do not repost, translate, copy or run my writing through an ai
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sharkylass · 9 months
Text
ALRIGHT IN STARS AND TIME FANDOM, I'M BOUT TO HIT YOU WITH MY TAKE ON THE BELOVED SISTER!!
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Those who don't want to get spoiled about little details about Bonnie's sister (or the game at all for that matter- There's spoilers for Act 3 and 4 in here so YOU'VE BEEN WARNED)
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SAY HELLO TO PETRONILLE!! Or how I am going to call her, Nil. I've seen a few people do their take on her, and I wanted to join in!
@insertdisc5 I am sorry in advance if you have a vision for her, especially if it is WILDLY different to mine-
KEEP IN MIND, I AM GOING TO BE RANTING A LOT, IVE HAD THIS IN THE MAKING FOR A WHILE, THERE'S MORE ART, SO SKIP AHEAD IF YOU'D LIKE
First thing's first! I tried to figure out what she would look like in the original style. I didn't want to overly detail her with my normal style, and I wanted her to somewhat fit in with the rest. Bonnie was clearly the strongest inspiration , she has their eyes, the black hair, white thing around their head to bring attention to her face- That's also why she has lip piercings! To bring more attention to her face (and due to Bonnie's earring type, I assumed piercings can exist in the world)
Her ear has 3 earrings, that was not intentional, I just thought it was cool. I like to think they perceive those as "regular" earrings, and even if a person wears bonding earrings, they can also wear more normal earrings.
I just had the image of her not really having a short range weapon, so maybe it's time for someone with a semi-long range weapon to join the team! In my head Nil seemed to be the type to like getting dirty with her hands, so a rope seemed fitting somehow.
Also- She is paper type! I liked the idea of her looking like such a rock type, but being paper. I considered making her dual type, but since those are rare, I didn't want to get ahead of myself. Admittedly, that does make the party a little overloaded with paper types, so if she was to be in a game with balancing, I'd probably change her to rock or something. BUT AS A CHARACTER THING- she remains paper.
(EDIT: I was just reminded of the huge hammer she broke a wall with, so that is ABSOLUTELY a valid replacement weapon for her. If she was rock type that would be her weapon for sure. Altho it IS funny to imagine she broke the wall and swore off heavy weapons for life. I like to think thats what happened with my take on Nil)
Mechanically I think she wouldn't be too dissimular to Isabeau, but instead of boosting the party, she debuffs the enemy. Particularly slowing them down, and lowing defense. Alternatively, I can see her being a second healer of sorts, but while Mira is good at healing everyone, Nil is good at healing a single person and giving them a boost (just things she learned to take care of Bon). I do see her attack not being that high tho, probably lower then Mira.
ALRIGHT, TIME FOR MORE ART
Her dynamics with everyone:
Bonnie:
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I like to think Bonnie got their spunky attitude from somewhere. So I like to think Nil is very playful with them, even if she is looking out for them. Bonnie clearly knows the difference between lighthearted serious, and SERIOUS serious. They also seem to revel in compliments, so I like to imagine they are used to receiving them from their sister!
Nil is the most serious around Bonnie tho. As their sole caretaker, she's trying her best to keep them out of trouble while teaching them and letting them grow at a normal pace.
However, when she's with the adults- I described it like- Around Bonnie she can be serious and a voice of reason. When she's with adults tho she herself becomes the Bonnie, so to speak. She's loud and a bit hot-headed.
Mirabelle:
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I swear I saw Insertdisc mention that Mira and Nil would have a bit of a rivalry going on AND I'M SO HERE FOR IT-
The two of them are those siblings that fight constantly, but the moment someone else gives either of them shit, the other will go for the jugular. They mainly try to compete for Bon's affection and who's the better sister, and they get a bit... blindsighted. Nil usually doesn't go out of her way to spoil Bonnie I don't think, I think she tries to be reasonable with them where she can. However with Mira in the picture it becomes- a little hard... Nil doesn't like the thought that she's being replaced
However, if either of them needs it, the other will be there. Nil provides Mira with a strong shoulder to lean on, and Mira provides an emotional yet reasonable approach to the situation bothering Nil.
Odile:
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I like to think at first Nil didn't really get along with Odile. Supposedly Nil has a bad relationship with her parents, so I imagine her seeing someone who's a parent aged adult who holds seemingly more authority- It would... Unnerve her for a little while.
Odile will probably give her something to do, and Nil would refuse, because who is Odile to be ordering her around?? You know. Like a child. But with time they get used to the dynamic, Nil grows to respect Odile at the very least, and Odile picks up on the fact Nil seems to respond positively to positive reinforcement from her.
Having someone close, to break that pre build idea in Nil's head with positivity, despite Odile being strict and struggling to show affection- It would do her a lot of good, and Nil will eventually thank her, and apologize for being so rough to her in the beginning.
Isabeau:
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Isa and Nil are actually very similar- I did not mean for it, but I hope they don't end up being TOO similar.
They are both loud, love to laugh and take care of those they love. Even their hobbies are a bit more similar then everyone else. Nil likes gardening, and taking care of things, and Isa likes to create clothes. Both of them are in a way creating something. Nil making sure what she's taking care of grows to be big and strong, and Isa is more literal-
Where they differ is in smarts partly. Isa is clearly very book smart. I think Nil would turn to him if she had a general question about something (and later on Odile once she gets used to her). She completely encourages him to show more of what he knows.
They also differ in their buffness slightly. While Isa is still the beefiest on the team, he did it with the intention, he trained. Meanwhile I think Nil just likes the field work so she's constantly outside doing heavy dirty work.
I like to think that after being unfrozen, Nil's clothes were roughed up and she didn't really think to or have the time to fix it. So I imagine Isa saw the roughed up state of her pants and gloves, and made her some himself, Which she treasures but GOD she is not used to receiving anything from anyone, LET ALONE gifts.
They also similarly hide their insecurities under bavado. Isa hides his smarts to be liked, and Nil hides her fears so she can be brave. I'll go more into detail when I get to Nil's own section. (I SWEAR I didn't mean for Isa's section to be so long I PROMISE-)
Siffrin:
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These two don't do a lot of talking I'd imagine. While Nil is used to being loud, I think she'd get used to the silence around Sif and simply enjoy the quiet.
A lot of the ideas I had with those two were very touch focused. I assume Nil struggles with touch because of potential childhood related traumas, and not being warned sends her into a fight or flight. While Sif is deeply unused to it but craves it.
I still imagine Nil isn't an inherently NOT touchy person- I mean. Bon's the touchiest little guy out there. So maybe she knows how to warn people of when she's about to touch them, AND she is more used to asking for hugs and affection. So after she learns that Sif struggles asking and being startled, she became the person that would encourage them and tell them how to do it. In every single drawing where they're touching just know that either she warned them or they asked for that touch.
Also Nil is a very grounding reminder for Sif that he's not in the loops anymore. So if they get a particular scare, like they were woken up wrong, they had a rough sleep, smelled a banana, remembered the king- anything involving going back- Nil serves as a reminder that they're here, with everyone, in the present. No going back. So that, combined with their touch therapy, it results in him being particularly physically clingy with her. She squeezes their hand ocassionally. It's a grounding reminder.
Nil is also UNBELIEVABLY THANKFUL for Sif, once she learns about how they lost their eye. The fact Sif went out of their way to protect HER little sibling- It means the world to her, and she wouldn't wish it on Sif one bit. She probably holds guilt that she couldn't take the hit for both of them, Bonnie is her responsibility! They probably end up having a conversation similar to Sif telling Mira "Do you think she was wrong? To save you?" She doesn't know about the end of act 3
AAAAAND NIL HERSELF!
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A lot of this is already information I mentioned. Her being a paper type, her liking bugs, being traumatized, startled by touch- But I drew these beforehand, so!
I imagine Nil ran away young, cause Bonnie doesn't remember her running from their parents. What happened in there, I do not know and I don't think I'm capable of imagining. It might not even be as dramatic as I illustrated it. But either way, she grew up being the sole caretaker of Bonnie. I'm sure Vaugardians were kind and that they didn't have to struggle too hard for food or a place, or to get Bonnie into a school- But Nil still wanted to learn how to be self sufficient, how to provide in case something happens. It might be why they live in Bambouche honestly, Nil learned how to grow plants and being close to the sea is good for catching a lot of fish! ...It was also at the edge of Vaugarde. Probably the edges where the King's curse reached slower.
She likes getting her hands dirty and working outside, so I imagine she's a bit sunburnt! If only on her shoulders and cheeks.
Growing up alone, self sufficient- She probably had to grow a bit fast (even if she indulges in childish things with Bonbon). She quickly started repressing all fears, all questions of her decision to run away. I imagine she's actually insecure in her abilities, how Bon deserves more capable people in their life, how she doesn't really know anything and how she literally got frozen and Bonnie had to fend for themselves- After Bon comes back, she's so filled with admiration and adoration for her little sibling. They really went to the ends of the earth and saved the world. What a brave little sibling she has.
The new family kind of... Feels like a threat to her title as sister at the start. All 5 of them saved a country. The people Bonnie met are strong, knowledgeable, been all over the world- She's glad they protect Bonnie. She just wishes she had something to offer. It takes her a little while to realize they are also there for her too.
I was ranting to a friend, and I am pretty sure we know Nil would like to travel after everything. Being able to explore her more child like fantasies, with the safety blanket that is the family- It means a lot to her. She gets to truly indulge in living and letting loose and depending on people for the first time in her life.
Afterwards tho... I like to imagine she would settle down. It takes a while, but she likes having a place to call her own. And so we talked about how she would probably have a ranch of some sort. I like to imagine she'd love having horses. A way for her to remain free spirited, while taking care of creatures and having the security of a place to rest at the end of the day. And if she chooses, she can go wherever she wants with those bad boys!
My friend mentioned they might have goats or sheep or chicken, and I'm all aboard for that too. I'm not settled on the idea of a farm life for her, but I like it.
Also if I dare pull a Dreaming One for a second- Bonnie and Sif are like little siblings to her, Mira is like a twin (or relatively same aged), Isa is like an older brother, and Odile the everlasting grandma.
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ALRIGHT THAT TOOK A WHILE-
Sorry, I started drawing her for fun and just started BRAINROTTING about her out of nowhere.
I still have little doodle ideas but this was already getting so lengthy so I am going to leave it here, and maybe return another day.
I just deeply wanted to establish Nil as her own character who can fit within the group's dynamic and belong in the family. While she very much IS Bonnie's sister and that's such a big part of her, I wanted to expand her a little further.
If you took the time to read, THANK YOU. I HOPE YOU LIKE HER, AND THAT YOU HAVE A WONDERFUL REST OF YOUR DAY
P.S. IF YOU DRAW OR WRITE WITH HER I BEG YOU TO TAG ME
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siddyyyyyyyy · 1 month
Text
You're Only Sixteen
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wc: ~3.6k
summary: child soldier joins task force 141 part FOUR; one, two, three; five
warnings: discussion of abusive military camp, description of anxiety, some violence, (grieving), nightmares
a/n: this is getting really interesting now and I'm trying my best to keep the story entertaining and logical... hope you enjoy it!
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Briefing room, 15:21, two days before the mission.
The new plan of the mission is projected on the white wall in front of you all, with Price standing beside it while everyone listens. He goes over the plan and explains who would be doing what, making sure he gets the message across. Laswell stands beside him, arms behind her back, as she nods along and adds information occasionally.
»This needs to go as smoothly as possible. No mistakes, no slip-ups, no nothing.«
Price starts, glancing over everyone before he gestures to the plan on the wall, continuing with explaining.
»We will be raiding an abusive military camp for children, takiing the kids to a safe place, and taking the bastards who are responsible for this with us. This is underage children we are talking about. Innocent souls, who are forced to get trained and sent on unnecessary dangerous missions. We’ll make sure the people behind it learn their lesson.«
Laswell looks around the small group, spotting you immediately. Her gaze is cold, but she doesn’t seem to be the type to throw glares without reason. She seems even tense. You’re aware she works for the CIA, doing most of the research and planning for the mission the team goes to eventually. Maybe that’s why she is staring at you, not used to a new member in the task force. But then again, she shouldn’t feel like that, considering how professional she must be.
»Camp is located in Urzikstan, Riyazabbi. It’s where Farah grew up, so she’ll be helping us out on it.«
Finally, she averts her eyes from you and clicks to the next slide of the small power point, presenting a map of Urzikstan with red scribbles on it. You listen intently to the whole briefing, growing more and more sick on the inside. Standing beside Ghost by the table, you can only hope no one notices your growing anxiety.
»To be more exact, in the Old Town, near the Low Town. Farah will be leading our way for the mission, making sure the children get escorted safely. Your mission is to get the bad guys.« She switches to another slide, a planned-out map from the base of the camp, »Most of them should be on the top floor, as well as the documents we need to find out what other stuff they’re hiding… and get the evidence.«
You take a deep breath looking at the map, feeling your stomach churn. Laswell steps away, leaning her hands on the table as she glances around the team once more.
»Gaz and Price will be paired up to keep watch and take out the guards. Soap, Ghost you both will storm in and clear the building out, sparing the children inside.«
She straightens her back and looks over you again, continuing with telling each their role for the upcoming mission.
»You’ll be with Farah, behind Ghost and Soap. Focus on escorting the children from the outside.«
Gaz glances at you from across the table, noticing your paleness. He keeps his eyes on you for a moment before he looks back to the power point, studying the map and listening to the rest of the briefing.
Ghost on your side notices your shift as well, nudging you lightly against your shoulder. You finally snap back, glancing up at him, almost disoriented. He gives you a questioning look, Price interrupting the exchange.
»Any questions?«
Ghost, the twat he is, nods and mentions towards you.
»Ya seem like you know something. Explain?«
Meanwhile, you’re still processing what the mission is about, your heart pounding in your chest and mind racing.
The small group watches you, slightly concerned about your sudden silence. It’s not unusual you are more reserved, but now it seems different. Price shifts on his feet, crossing his arms over his chest, and calls out your name.
»That’s my camp.«
You spit out bluntly, granting a shocked look from each. Laswell exchanges a look with Price giving a small nod. The silence in the briefing room is deafening, making you hear your own pulse in your ears.
»Holy shite...« Soap grumbles under his breath, making you exhale slowly to calm yourself down.
Captain Price shifts again, taking a step towards you as he holds up one hand.
»Now, I know this will be difficult for you, but I believe you are strong and capable enough to handle it, and even more.«
He motivates you, trying not to scare you off and reassure you. Suddenly it’s very tight in the room; everyone stares at you and makes you feel pressured. What are you supposed to do? Should you go along with the mission or call it quits after everything? You finally thought you could escape your camp and never see the commanders or the other soldiers again. What if you fail everyone and lose everything again?
»Ye knew about this?« Soap’s agitated voice rings through the room, slicing right through the soft tone of the captain.
»At first, no one knew, Soap. We couldn’t have known if it wasn’t in her file.«
»Of course, it wasn’t.« He scoffs, his tone growing more exasperated. Price shoots him a warning glare before he focusses back on you.
»You need to stay strong for this one. We need you for this mission, both for your strength and knowledge. You are a strong asset to us.«
He explains calmly, turning more towards you as he does. Price could go on about why he thinks you are perfect for this mission, but the rest of the team needs to process it themselves and consider his words. It’s true; because of your own experience from the camp it makes it easier to gain more intel on the whole organisation. On the other hand, this feels like they ask too much. There’s no way you’ll go back there to save the others.
Laswell breaks the visible tension in the room and speaks up, keeping her calm.
»This is important for everyone; however, I do think you need to get the chance to choose yourself. Do you want to join the mission?«
The question hangs heavy in the air, making you almost overwhelmed with it. After several tension-filled seconds, you have decided it.
»Yes. I will join on the mission.«
She nods back in acknowledgement, taking a small step back from the table. Somehow, the tension in the room leaves slowly, as does your pounding in your chest. You realise how serious and difficult this will be, already feeling like this will take years off your lifespan. Maybe that was exaggerated, but that’s literally how it feels right now.
You’ve never seen Soap so distressed before, even now when he has calmed down and wears an uneasy expression on his face. It’s your own, choice and you chose to actually participate in that difficult mission. There’s nothing they can do but work alongside you.
----
The briefing is over, and now it is time to prepare for the upcoming mission, needing to prepare some bags since this requires travelling to get to Urzikstan.
You feel a big hand on your shoulder, which makes you look to your right, seeing Ghost like before.
»Wanna feed Riley?« A firm squeeze is felt on your shoulde before he lets go, waiting on your answer. You simply nod, finally getting out of your distracted stare.
Soon enough, you find yourself in his office with Riley munching off from your palm again. She is calmer today, as if sensing something might be wrong or someone’s mood is down. Ghost is sitting next to the K9, silently petting her back before speaking up.
»What actually happened in that camp?«
His cold gaze is fixated on you, but not with the usual cold-hearted eyes. There seems to be an underlying understanding behind them as he studies you.
»Like…« you trail off, considering what he might want to know, »the abusive training or the raid missions?«
»How ‘bout we start at the beginnin’?«
You nod slightly, watching Riley lick your palm clean while you think of how to start talking about your past. Eventually, you start talking about the separation from your parents, the big explosion that came with, and how rough the soldiers were with children like you. About the endless training back then. The torturous amount of hours spent with nothing but improving yourself with elder commanders criticising and correcting every minor mistake. The nights spent training by yourself until morning, just for the seniors to ruin every single thing. Then you go on about the missions, mostly telling him about your own and briefly explaining the system to him.
»We were grouped into classes by our skills. The lower you are, the more likely you’ll have to go on a suicide mission. I was high class, meaning I was mostly either a sniper or went to raids. And doing night patrol.«
He listens intently, almost as if he tries to commit every word said to memory. Ghost lets you talk, not interrupting you a single time as you open up. Riley licks at your hand the whole time, making you try to swat your hand away from her, but she keeps nuzzling her nose against your hands.
»They said it’s to ‘protect our country and make our loved ones proud‘, but after a while I also noticed how much bullshit they’re trying to sell us. Once I got here, I started to realise how wrong the camp was. It feels like they robbed everything from me.«
You stare at Riley as you talk, trying to get back into the right lane and not let your emotions take over. Riley is still trying to lick at your hands but gave up and just rests her jaw in your two hands, occasionally looking at you as you speak.
»There wasn’t really anything different to do but train and fight. We would get punished or sent away if we made too many mistakes or misbehaved. God forbid we tried to escape.«
You finally pet Riley’s head carefully in your hands, being mindful not to put too much pressure on her and gently trying out how far you can go with her. She continues to sit calmly in front of you, letting you do your thing on her.
Ghost listens and glances down at his dog as well, noticing how fast you got used to her already. He shifts and speaks up, your words staying in his mind.
»Sure was hell of a shit ‘ole. But, you’re sure you will get revenge on them with us?«
He asks again, making sure if you didn’t just agree on the mission, because you felt like you had to, in front of them. You nod in response confidently, being sure nothing bad will happen with them by your side.
»I’m sure I can do it.« Ghost nods back in response, glad to see a positive attitude from you. Riley opened her mouth again, making her tongue stick out and breath louder. You let go of her head and glance to Ghost, noticing his eyes crinkle underneath his mask. Or that could be you imagining things also. He gets off the ground, and you follow shortly after, looking down to the friendly K9. She stares right back at you, her ears up and tail waggling slightly from side to side. You give her a final rub on her head before exiting his office, returning back into your own bunk to prepare for the training.
----
Training hall, 16:00, two days before the mission
You‘re glad you are all training today, needing to get your mind off everything that was discussed earlier. While warming your muscles up, Soap and Gaz join finally too, also ready for the sparring. This time, you‘d need to spar with Ghost, having been sparring with mostly Soap before. He gets ready in the stance, muscles tense and knees lightly bent. Ghost tells you to strike first, which you do shortly later.
The round begins with you attacking him to his side, but he is quick to counterattack with a punch of his own. And that punch sure was powerful. Is he trying to maul you? Going on, it‘s an exchange of attacks and counterttacks, blocked hits, and dodged kicks. To be completely honest, it‘s fun sparring with Ghost. He is not holding back, making it clear he is going to teach you something while training. And in reality, Ghost is indeed trying to prepare you more for the long mission in just two days. There is an underlying fear in him that he won‘t be admitting to anyone.
Focus still being on the mission, you‘re having a hard time keeping up with him. Thinking about the camp, the rude commanders and needing to rescue your comrades from the camp… It is getting a lot in your head. That‘s why sparring right now is such a good distraction, but obviously, it is not doing much at the moment.
Meanwhile, Ghost doesn‘t understand how you can be so quick and keep up with his strong attacks, trying to analyse your movements and figure your weak point out. After a few more moments, though, you already figured out his own. His left knee is weak, however, kicking against him is mostly a trap, as he takes the opportunity to yank on your ankle and make you fall. Obviously you didn‘t fall. Just stumbled.
Gaz watches as he takes a small break with Soap, seeing you both being cheeky fighters. Both trying to hit the other‘s weak points as much as possible. Both looking very focused on the task.
»Who do ye think will win?« Soap questions beside him, also watchig your sparring round.
»Hard to tell… they still seem full of energy.« Gaz mumbles back, focused on watching the fight go on. There‘s a moment of silence before Soap speaks up again.
»Wanna bet?« Gaz groans quietly and side-eyes his teammate, having lost the last bet with him just last week.
At the same time, you are both pretty much sparring like before. But it is getting harder to focus on the task again, while your mind is in a completely different world. It‘s gotten to a point where you‘re blocking a lot of hits and mostly taking them while having a hard time striking back. At the same time, you are too stubborn to give up just yet. The mission and all the thoughts about your camp are making you think rational and making you overwork. A sudden wave of frustration washes over you, and Ghost isn‘t that strong of an opponent anymore.
With a strong kick to his side, he has no chance to trick you again before you land a series of punches to his chest area. He huffs and grunts, trying to dodge them but with no luck. Your attacks are stronger now, making Ghost stumble back and block a few of your punches. The sudden action doesn‘t go missed by him at all, it makes him wonder where it all came from. It seemed like you were giving up a second ago, but now you‘re coming back stronger.
Wherever it came from, isn‘t as important for now. The skin at your knuckles is red again, and your expression is dark. He quickly realises and feels the need to step in. With you being so out of the wind from the meeting is something he knows all too well.
He launches forward, but instead of striking an attack, he wraps his large arms around you tightly, forcing himself to bite back a grunt at your attempt to punch him again. The hug is tighter than any hug you‘ve received, but you also didn‘t get many hugs before.
There‘s an instant halt in your movements and you simply freeze, having no idea how this just happened. Being in someone else‘s arms is something you haven‘t experienced a lot. And this doesn‘t certainly feel soothing, but also not forceful either.
»You‘re pushing yourself. Stop that.«
He gruffly tells you and finally lets go, looking over your face. You don‘t say much, just staring back at him and finally exhaling the breath you didn‘t realise you held in. Gaz and Soap exchange a look but don‘t say anything, continuing to spar together while keeping an eye on you both.
Finally, his words sank in, and you nodded in response. »Sorry, I won‘t.« You mumble back, earning a rather sceptical look from him. He just gives you a small grunt in response and mentions for you to strike in again.
For the rest of the training session, it is just Ghost grounding you and making sure you don‘t get lost in your thoughts again. Which surprisingly helps, but also gets exhausting after some while. The other pair just goes on with their own sparring match, eventually fighting like two cats who hate each other, and mostly fighting on the floor, both too stubborn to end the fight.
Eventually, Ghost finally decides to cut you some slack, as well as for the other two teammates, who beat the shit out of the other the entire time. Showertime before dinner, finally getting to some kind of rest before it is time to pack some stuff for the deployment into Urzikstan.
After the quick shower, you head to the mess hall and run into Ghost on the way. Thank God, he has the Capri Sun already and hands it to you. But not without saying something too.
»You fought well today. But you seemed distracted.« It‘s a gentle demand to spill the beans, but this doesn‘t seem like something you should talk about in the first place. It doesn‘t seem important enough. You simply shrug, looking to the Caprie Sun in your hands. Cherry flavoured.
»I was just somewhere else. The camp… the meeting just made me distracted.«
You answer back, cringing secretly at yourself for saying too much. But to your surprise, he doesn‘t even react to your words and studies you briefly.
»Wanna talk about it? I can listen.«
To no one‘s surprise, you deny the offer, even when you trust Ghost a lot by now. The only thing you want now, is some semi-warm cantine food and the sweet drink in your hands.
----
Packing an extra bag for Urzikstan wasn‘t as confusing as it may seem, but maybe nine pocket knifes are just enough to keep you safe. Fou of them are regular pocket knifes everyone else has, the other five being various ones, you either got or found somewhere. The biggest one is about the size of your whole hand with the blade out, also your favourite one by far. You found it somewhere in a desert during a solo mission.
Next, is your small sketchbook, of course. And your pencil, that needs to be sharpened again. The most important item goes deep into the smaller bag, making sure it won‘t get lost by any means. A polaroid picture of yourself and another girl, together, smiling. The sun is low, casting a warm and soft tint to everything, making you both look even more stunning.
Then, of course, some dog treats you stole from Ghost‘s office for Riley, since he mentioned taking the K9 on the mission. You are actually a little surprised that he didn‘t notice you sneaking some into your pocket while feeding Riley and explaining your camp to Ghost.
Finally it‘s all settled and you are ready for bed. Once again, it takes up some time to fall asleep, the mission still heavy in mind. But you get to it after approximately two hours.
You wake up to your mother screaming for you, the air feeling thick and loaded. The sharp pain around your wrists are a reminder of the ties around them, keeping you from escaping as your ankles are tied together as well; connected to the other set of children that are now taking hostage. Another yell before a sharp thud grabs your attention, looking over to where you think your mother just screamed from. The first instinct is to scream for her and beg, feeling the steady rise of panic and anxiety going up in you terrifyingly fast. Soon, it‘s nothing but a sea of screams around you, while you are the quietest one. But you are screaming your lungs out, why are you so quiet?
A sudden white light breaks out, blinding both your sight and sounds around you. The surprise doesn‘t last long, as all you can make out is darkness and disoriented voices, talking in unintelligible words over each other. It feels like something is trying to suck you out of the ground, but you‘re trying to fight it, eventually getting shocked with light hitting your face yet again. It‘s softer this time, but it quickly turns into a big, dark cloud of smoke.
Breathing is getting harder again, but before you know it, there is someone helping you up and guiding you somewhere firmly. Looking to your right, you see a familiar face again, and all your worries seem to disappear for a brief moment. The girl beside you is helping you get away from the explosion as fast as possible, suddenly realising why this feels so familiar and real.
Waking up with cold sweat yet again in an ungodly hour has happened before. Sighing out, you focus on calming your racing heart down before you can attempt to fall asleep once more. Actually, no, you won‘t be attempting to sleep tonight. Not after a flashback like this one.
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a/n: the next part will be out probably by next week, please be patient.... but I can assure you, the next part is going to be awesome-sauce. You'll get to experience Farah Kari-
Hope you enjoyed it!
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soulofapatrick · 8 months
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Nothing Changes - Aaron Hotchner x female reader
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Summary: You wake the next morning to an empty bed and panic
Words: 1.3K
Warnings: None; fluffy
Notes: I'm really sorry for writing so much Hotch, I'm rewatching criminal minds and all these story ideas for him have been on my mind
Waking up to an empty bed, I feel my heart sink as the realization hits me: Hotch isn’t lying beside me anymore. Panic flutters in my chest as my mind races through a flurry of thoughts. Of course, he left. He couldn’t stay, not without risking our jobs, our reputations, and maybe even our friendship. What if one of the team found out? What would they think of me? They’d probably assume I’m taking advantage of Hotch, especially considering it’s only been two years since Haley’s passing. The man seems to still be grieving, and here I am, complicating things even more.
The distant sound of the shower running breaks through my panic, and relief floods through me, mingling with a tinge of nervousness. Maybe he hadn’t left entirely. Maybe there’s still a chance, a hope that last night wasn’t just a fleeting moment of weakness, but something more. Last night was the first time we gave in to the building sexual tension between us.
His clothes are still strewn across my room, a tangible reminder of the intimacy we shared. I can’t help but replay the events of last night in my mind—the way his touch ignited a fire within me, the way his eyes held mine with an intensity I couldn’t ignore. The way he was so gentle yet so dominant, knowing how to work my body right.
As I slowly come to wakefulness, the sound of the shower grows louder, filling the empty space with its steady rhythm. Part of me longs to join him, to lose myself in the warmth of his embrace once more. But another part of me hesitates, afraid of what this newfound connection might mean for us both.
Before I can decide both of our phones are ringing, the shrill sound makes my head hurt and I’m groaning, burying my face in the pillow Hotch had previously slept on. The phones ring till they stop and I count to four before both start ringing again, ruining the peace this almost domestic moment.
I’m smacking the bed in faint protest before wriggling over to the nearest phone and answering, “Yeah?”
No one speaks for a second before I recognise JJ clearing her throat, “We need you in, we’ve got a case.” There’s amusement in her tone that has me frowning before my heart drops for the second time this morning.
“JJ…” I pause, swallowing thickly, “This is Hotch’s phone, isn’t it?” I groan, turning my head to look at the bedside table to see my phone sitting there, “Oh god!”
“I won’t say a word,” She pauses and I hear her stifle a small laugh, I won’t tell if you tell me all about it on girls night.”
“Deal.” I reluctantly agree before hanging up and throwing Hotch’s phone somewhere on the bed.
I climb out of bed, feeling the cool air against my skin as I pad to the bathroom, wearing nothing but Hotch’s button up I throw on haphazardly, not bothering to do it up.
Hotch stands under the shower, his silhouette obscured by the mist, like a figure emerging from a dream. The gentle stream of water traces the contours of his body, sculpting shadows and highlights that accentuate every line and sinew. Droplets cling to his skin, glistening like diamonds in the soft light filtering through the steam.
His shoulders, broad and powerful, bear the weight of countless burdens, yet in this moment, they seem almost weightless, as if the water washes away the weight of the world. The water cascades over his chest, tracing the ripple of muscle, each movement a testament to strength and resilience.
His jawline is sharp, chiseled, a portrait of determination and resolve. The water courses over it, tracing the curve of his lips, the faintest hint of a smile playing at the corners. There’s a vulnerability in that smile, a glimpse of the man behind the stoic facade, and it steals my breath away.
His eyes, closed in peaceful repose, are hidden from view, yet I can imagine them so clearly—deep pools of darkness, windows to a soul that has weathered storms and emerged unbroken. They say the eyes are the windows to the soul, and in that moment, I feel as though I can see straight into his.
Every inch of him is a study in contrasts—the strength and vulnerability, the resilience and tenderness—all wrapped up in one beautiful, complex package. And as I watch him, bathed in the gentle embrace of the water, I feel something stir within me, something deep and unspoken.
It’s as if with each droplet that falls, my heart beats a little faster, my breath catches a little tighter. In that moment, I realize just how deeply I’ve fallen for him, how every part of me longs to reach out and touch him, to pull him close and never let go.
I give in to that want, stepping towards the shower, the warm water enveloping me like a comforting embrace. With a quick motion, I shrug off his shirt, feeling the fabric slip from my skin, and I step under the water next to him. Droplets cascade over us, mingling with the steam, as I close the distance between us.
My fingers tremble as I reach out, brushing lightly up his toned bicep, tracing the contours of muscle beneath his skin. A small sound escapes him, a mixture of surprise and pleasure, as he looks down to meet my gaze. His cognac eyes soften as they meet mine, warmth and affection swirling within their depths.
His hands find my hips, fingers tracing patterns against my skin, as if mapping out the curves and contours of my body. There’s a tenderness in his touch, a gentleness that belies the strength of the man before me. With each caress, he stirs something deep within me, igniting a fire that burns brighter with each passing moment.
I feel a surge of longing, an ache that resonates deep within my soul, as his touch sends shivers coursing through me. It’s as if every nerve in my body is alight with electricity, every sense heightened by the intensity of his presence.
And then, without hesitation, he pulls me flush against him, his lips finding mine in a searing kiss. It’s a collision of desire and longing, a meeting of souls bound together by the undeniable pull of attraction. His lips are soft against mine, a gentle exploration that sets my heart ablaze.
“Can we just stay here?” I mumble, pulling away from the kiss to rest my head on his chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath my cheek. I don’t care if we’re late, if I have to dry my hair before we leave, if we miss the plane. I don’t care for anything except the safety of Hotch’s strong arms wrapped around me.
“I don’t suppose the only reason you came in was to shower with me, was it?” He hooks a finger under my chin and makes me look up at him, an eyebrow raise and an amused look on his face.
“No,” I can’t help but pout, drawing a chuckle from him and he ducks down to press a kiss to my forehead, “we have a case.”
“Well,” he brushes my now wet hair from my face, “We have about an hour.”
“It takes me 45 on a good day Hotch.” I grumble and his eyes widen a little in disbelief as I’ve never told anyone where I live let alone how long it takes me to get to work until now. Until the very man I’ve been dreaming of for months is standing, very, very naked in my shower.
“Alright sweetheart, we’ll pick up some coffee on the way in.” My heart flutters at the pet name, my cheeks heating up and I’m burying my face in his muscular chest, “Sweetheart?”
“What happens when we enter the office?” I mumble against his chest.
“Nothing has to change.”
“Nothing has to change?”
“I promise”
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Criminal Minds Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 21st Dec 2023
@guacam011y @rosaliedepp @kajjaka
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greensagephase · 3 months
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Nonviolent Communication - Part 16
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Pairing: Spider-Man!Miguel O'Hara x Spider-Woman!Reader Summary: Miguel and you make visits to the cemetery to talk to your loved ones. Miguel joins the spider gang for a training simulation so you can continue to rest after being sick. You go grocery shopping with him and then cook together! You debate gifting Miguel something for Father's Day. Word Count: 17.5k Warning: some depressing content; minor injury; blood; Miguel cries A/N: Edited this once, so I'm praying it's good since a lot was done at 4am today 🫠 Masterlist Music Inspo (Spotify playlist for the fanfic here) "Evergreen" - Richy Mitch & The Coal Miners "Home" - Good Neighbours (tyy Laura!!❤️)
Thank you for reading!!
Part 16
You lay fresh flowers on Peter’s resting place. You’ve collected the old ones and placed them with the other ones from your other loved ones’ graves. You always leave Peter’s for last, so you can stay with him the longest. It’s always been like this since he passed away.
A gentle breeze blows on your face as you stare at the gravestone. It’s almost another year since his death, the fifth one.
You sigh and fix the flowers, arranging them in a way that looks pretty. You always take your time with this on every grave, wanting to show love and care to your deceased loved ones even years after their deaths.
You finish fixing the flowers, admiring how colorful and fresh they are. You always opt for bright ones to lighten up Peter’s grave. You like to think that he’s here somewhere, sitting on the ground or leaning against the nearest tree, or even sitting on his own stone listening to you talk about your day. It used to help you in the early days after losing him. Now, it comforts you in a different way. Your heart aches but differently. You’ve healed, even though you once believed you wouldn’t.
You pull back. Usually, you tell Peter everything that happened during the week from the villains you’ve fought to the little moments of your day like simply having a coffee. He always loved that, hearing about your day. You intend to share all of that with him, but there’s something that’s been weighting on your mind especially, and heavily.
Harry.
He left your life in a blink of an eye, and came back just like that.
Nearly five years later, he makes an appearance, asking to reenter your life. You’ve had little time to think about his request with you growing sick the next morning and then having your period. Thankfully, you feel much better today. Your cold is mostly gone and your period’s symptoms have calmed down thanks to the medication that Miguel got you. Your body is still feeling some of the effects, like fatigue, but for the most part, you feel well. Your recovery has been a fast one and you have no doubt in your mind it’s all due to Miguel, who was like your nurse on duty, making rounds every thirty minutes and ensuring you took the medicine as it was prescribed. And then, there’s all the food he cooked and the other kind gestures, like giving you his blanket and sweatshirt, and the ointment on your nose and back.
You chuckle to yourself at the thought and decide to start your weekly moment with Peter at last, even after all these years. You tell him everything from running into Harry to getting sick and how Miguel looked after you to a brief summary of Miguel’s feelings regarding the situation with Harry.
He didn’t say it directly but you have a feeling that he’s not happy with Harry and honestly, even your other friends seemed… on edge about the situation.
His words, along with your friends’ behavior, have made you consider this situation, especially Miguel’s words. He made you realized Harry really did ghost you in a moment when you could’ve used someone’s comfort. Miguel also made you see that maybe, you did deserve a little better, even if you know that you were fully going to try and cut ties with Harry.
Now, you wonder if you would’ve done it had Harry not stepped away for whatever reason he did. Would you had allowed him to stay in your life had he stuck around? You know it’s unproductive to think about this now, so many years later but still.
A part of you is displeased that you have to worry about this now. You had simply accepted that your friendship had ended with Harry. He had his reasons and you had yours, so it felt like a silent mutual decision between you, but now? Harry is back and he wants to be part of your life again.
The question is now whether you let him, or not.
“What do I do, Peter?” you whisper. “I think - I was perfectly okay with the way things were left. Is that bad?” you ask. “I know I have no one in this universe.” Your head dips low once you say this. You truly have no one in this universe. Just you and yourself alone since Peter passed away. Staring at his gravestone, you swallow heavily.
“But I was okay with that for many years. I accepted it because I know I made that choice, to cut ties with everyone. I’ve told you what Miguel said - that I deserved better from our friends - and maybe I did, but it’s too late to think about that now. I accepted it years ago. Just like how I accepted what happened with Harry. We both walked away from each other, so it really felt like a mutual thing, you know? But now… He wants back and I don’t know if… I don’t know if I want him back. Is that a bad thing?” you whisper. “I just don’t know.” You sigh. “I don’t think my friends like the fact that he’s suddenly shown up. You should’ve seen them.” You smile softly, thinking of them. Your little family.
“You would’ve loved them, Peter. I’ve told you that already but I really do believe so. They’re amazing… They took me in and now they’re my family.”
You remain motionless and quiet for several minutes, thinking about the situation. The first thing is, maybe you did deserve better like Miguel said. Do you want that kind of person back in your life? What if Harry just walks out again?
There’s also the fact that you’re Spider-Woman. Having someone back into your life, someone who doesn’t know of your secret, will definitely stir things in your life. You’re not used to that anymore. Like, hiding your suit away in your bedroom, hidden in the closet. You don’t have to explain where little bruises come from, or why you were a bit late to something.
You can get used to that again, you suppose, but you won’t deny that hiding your identity can be exhausting and there’s always the risk of being connected to Spider-Woman. It was always a worry of yours with your parents, Aunt May, and Peter - to have them exposed to villains who made the connection.
You shake your head.
You can’t decide now. Maybe it’s too soon. It’s only been a few days since you met with him. Perhaps you ought to think about it more, give it a few more days.
“I need more time, Peter. I’ll think about it more,” you whisper softly with a sigh. You silently imagine Peter agreeing with your decision for now but your imagination is interrupted by your spider senses.
You glance around quickly, taking in your surroundings. You’ve been so lost with your thoughts you haven’t been paying attention to anything around you. Your eyes find the reason for the warning.
“Harry is coming,” you say, turning to face the grave. “I must go, Peter. I love you,” you whisper, quickly pressing your hand to the gravestone, your physical way of saying bye. “I’ll be back soon. I promise.”
You pick up your things and slip away, hiding behind a tree before Harry can catch sight of you. You watch from a distance as Harry approaches Peter’s grave, flowers in his hand.
You frown as you watch him get closer, your eyes on the flowers. You came to visit Peter very often after his death, multiple times a week, day and night. Despite coming so often, you only brought flowers once a week since they stayed fresh, and also because you’d always find other sets of flowers. You knew they were likely from friends but as the months went on, your flowers were the only ones that continued to come. Whoever else came to drop off flowers stopped two or three months after Peter’s passing.
Now, you watch as Harry stands in front of Peter’s grave with a solemn look on his face. You wonder if he ever comes to visit Peter, even without flowers. You hope he did because otherwise, it’d mean Harry didn’t visit his best friend’s grave. Not for nearly five years. It’d mean today is the first time.
You watch for a few more seconds, noticing Harry’s valet down the street standing next to the car, waiting for his boss.
With a sigh, you silently bid goodbye to Peter once more before slipping away, leaving the cemetery.
You dispose of the dead flowers somewhere appropriate and walk around your city. You’re not too happy you had to cut your visit short and leaving in a rush but you had to if you wanted to avoid Harry to avoid giving him an answer.
With your thoughts on Harry, you mindlessly walk with no clear direction. You must make a decision, sooner of later. For a moment, you wish you hadn't ran into him that day. If you hadn't, you wouldn't be here now, debating this entire ordeal. You're almost certain the stress from the encounter led to you getting sick.
You stop at the end of the street now and wait for traffic while you think about the fact that you got sick and how for the first time in years, someone took care of you.
You bring a hand to your nose, touching the tip, right where Miguel applied the ointment. You smile as you recall the moment, how gentle he was while applying the product while telling you that it was going to help you breathe better. Then, he gave you his sweatshirt and a hot tea.
You fell asleep shortly after while Miguel continued to watch over you. Lyla later told you it was like a man looking after a priceless artifact that could be stolen at any point, something that of course, brought a heat to your cheeks and stirred tenderness in you.
You're not surprised. Miguel is a kind man - a good one. He's caring and tender. He has so much love to give despite all the bad things, all the losses, that's happened to him.
You continue walking, finding yourself on your street. Of course. You'd probably find your way here even with a blindfold on since you've lived here for so long. You approach the construction site, keeping some distance as your eyes take in the progress. It seems like the building will be ready in a few more weeks, and then, it'll be time to move back.
It’ll be nice to be back.
But.
You bite the inside of your cheek. But?
Miguel flashes in your mind.
Him standing in the kitchen, cooking dinner while he talks to you. Then, there’s him sitting on the couch reading, eyebrows knitted lost in deep thought. Miguel, who taps his foot or bops his head slightly when you’re both cleaning the penthouse, the upbeat music winning over his body. There’s also him falling asleep on the couch, snoring softly, which is both endearing and heartwarming, to see that he’s actually resting when he went so long neglecting his body of it.
There’s also Miguel wishing you a good night’s sleep as you both stand in the hallway, him in front of his door wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt, waiting for you to enter your bedroom first before he enters his, which you believe he does to be a gentleman. It’s so sweet.
And there’s Miguel, who said was going to miss you when you return to your universe, and who you’ll be missing right back.
It seems you’ll both be missing each other. It almost feels as though, maybe… You shake your head gently.
You’ve thought about it a lot, many nights as you’ve laid in bed. The thought seems to pop up more often now that the weeks have dwindle. It doesn’t feel like much time went by since that first day when Miguel stayed at the penthouse to ensure you rested after the early morning you had helping your building’s residents evacuate.
A sheepish smile forms on your face as you remember telling Miguel how you wanted to hug him that day. You were out of it, exhausted both mentally and physically, maybe even emotionally, and the thought slipped out of your mouth. It did lead to him offering a pinky squeeze, an open one, though. Not like before when he could easily play it off as an accident because you were handing something to each other.
You hum softly. So much has changed since that day. Living with Miguel, temporarily, has allowed your friendship to grow, so much Miguel even admitted you’re his best friend.
“Best friend,” you murmur softly to yourself as you continue to stand on the sidewalk.
You miss your little old building and your small cozy apartment. There’s always going to be a coziness, a warmth from it. It’s a special place for sure, at least in your heart. And yet… You find yourself missing the housing arrangement, even though you haven’t left yet.
You’ll miss Miguel.
You sigh and shake your head.
It’ll be okay.
Things will fall into their rightful place.
They always do.
-♡-
Back in Nueva York, Earth-928, Miguel sits on the grass. He looks up at the sky for several minutes, silently. After a few days of rain, the weather has now cleared up. Today is sunny and bright, and there’s even a gentle but nice breeze that rustles Miguel’s hair. After several minutes, he closes his eyes and just - breathes.
Recently, he’s been trying to come more often and stay for a while. In the past, he was unable to. It was too hard, and after Gabriella’s universe collapsed, even more. Despite not coming often back then, Miguel always made sure the gravestones were taken care of, that they weren’t dirty and overgrown with weeds.
Recently, however, Miguel has tried to visit more often. He supposes part of the reason is that it’s easier now. It’s been several years since Gabriel and his mother passed away. Too many. It’s hard to believe that his little brother especially has been gone for so long.
Truth be told, Miguel always assumed he’d be the first to go. It made sense for the oldest sibling to pass away first, right? That’s how he thought it’d be, but life has its twists and turns, unexpected things out of our hands happen, and somehow, Miguel is still here.
Even when there were so many times he wished he wasn’t.
Miguel opens his eyes, moving his gaze to the gravestone.
When Gabriel died, Miguel especially thought about that. Gabriel deserved to live. He was a happy, outgoing young man. He brought a smile to everyone, always lifted people’s spirits.
Miguel has always believed out of the two of them, Gabriel was the better one, something he once voiced to him.
Of course, Gabriel O’Hara denied it and told him he was no better than Miguel.
With a sigh, Miguel leans forward. Losing Gabriel, it was more than losing a brother. He lost two things: his little brother, who always told him he wasn’t “little” anymore, and his best friend.
Losing him, it was the last straw. He focused entirely on his lab, burying his grief and loss with work to try and forget the fact that he had lost his last bit of family with his mother dying a previous year. He was suddenly familyless in his twenties, alone in the world.
Of course, he had Lyla but Gabri… He was gone.
Miguel inhales softly. It hurt. So bad. He never thought he could feel any worse but he was wrong because he then experienced losing Gabriella.
After several minutes of silence, Miguel sighs. “Hola hermano [Hello, brother],” he says, speaking for the first time. He’s been coming more often these days, but usually, Miguel doesn’t speak. He looks up at the sky again. “You would’ve loved this weather.”
His words are received by a bird chirping somewhere.
“Remember when we’d play fútbol [soccer] with all the other kids from the building at this time of year? The weather was warm and nice, not too hot yet. We knew school would be out soon for the summer, and we’d be able to stay up late behind our -” Miguel pauses, looking down at the gravestone. For a moment, a fraction of a second, he almost said the word. Sometimes, despite everything, he still associates the word with the man. He supposes that’s what a whole childhood does to someone. “Behind George’s back. Mama would let us stay up late in our rooms, watching movies about superheroes, wishing we were like them.” Miguel rolls his eyes playfully, a smile tugging at his lips before it falters. “Qué días… No sabía que algún día te perdería tan pronto. Siempre pensé que seria yo el que te dejaría primero. Y yo… te extraño, Gabrielito. Extraño mi hermanito enfadoso. Que daría por verte entrar a mi laboratorio para enfadarme, tal vez con otra persona de la sociedad de la cual te hiciste amigo [What days… I didn’t know one day I’d lose you so soon. I always thought it’d be me who would leave you first. And I… I miss you, Gabrielito. I miss my little annoying brother. What I would give to see you enter my lab to annoy me, maybe with another person from the society, one you became friends with]. Or, maybe… I’d see you walking in with Y/N, telling her something embarrassing about our childhood because you thought it’d be funny.” Miguel shakes his head at that image, smiling.
“I know I haven’t talked the last few times I’ve been here, but I just - I couldn’t. Not yet, but now I am. It’s been almost a year, Gabriel, since I possibly saw you. I’m still not sure if I did, or if it was just a dream - an illusion - but my heart tells me it was real. Y/N thinks so, too. Anyway,” Miguel pauses, clearing his throat. “It’s been almost a year, hermano [brother]. A year - a whole year. I’m sorry, if you’re listening, you’re probably hating that I’m repeating myself so much but, yeah, it’s been a year. Can you believe that?” Miguel asks, pausing. The same bird, probably, chirps. Miguel’s lips purse before he continues.
“A whole lot has changed, Gabriel. A lot. I… I’m a different man than I was a year ago. I can look at myself in the mirror now. I don’t shy away from my own gaze, which is another thing. My eyes. I find myself… Happy with them, along with my fangs and talons. That’s thanks to someone, and you know her very well. Well, at least in my dreams you do. Y/N. You and her get along so well in my dreams. We both wish you were around, physically, so she could’ve met you. You would’ve loved her, I know it,” Miguel says smiling again. “She’s a big part of my life now. I finally told her the other day that she’s my best friend. Oh, and she’s living with me now. Temporarily. I think… Her building will be livable again, very soon. She’ll be returning to her universe.”
Miguel looks away, staring at his lap. He picks away some grass from his bottoms, thinking. That same bird chirps again as if responding to him. He looks up again when he hears the fluttering from somewhere on the trees.
“It’s… difficult, Gabriel. I’ve grown used to her living with me. To her presence being there, both at HQ and now at the penthouse, close by. Our routines, they just merged. Clicked. Is it bad… Is it crazy that I’d like Dulzura [sweetness] - “ Miguel stops as he hears the nickname he gave you. “I’ve given her a nickname, too, Gabri. It just slipped out of my mouth that day. Dulzura [sweetness]. She’s so sweet, so kind to me - kinder than other people would ever be. Something about her, Gabri…” Miguel shakes his head. “As I was saying, I gave her a nickname. Dulzura [sweetness] - because she’s sweet and kind - but what I wanted to ask is, if it’s crazy that I’d like her to stay? For her to continue to live at the penthouse?”
The flapping of wings makes Miguel pause. He looks up, his crimson eyes finding a red bird in mid-flight. It so happens to perch itself on Gabri’s gravestone. He stares at it, watching how the bird spreads its wings before bringing them closer to its small, delicate body. Once settled, it looks around before settling its gaze on Miguel, too, observing him.
With knitted eyebrows, Miguel continues to stare, wondering if speaking will startle the bird. He decides not to for a moment, wanting to observe the bird this close up for longer. For a moment, he wishes you were here so you could see it, too. After several seconds, the bird chirps, taking small steps over Gabriel’s gravestone. Miguel remains quiet and keeps watching before the bird chirps again, stopping and turning to look at him, now on the edge of the gravestone’s top.
“What? Can’t find food?” Miguel asks. “I’m sure there’s plenty around.”
The bird chirps again. Miguel groans softly, now he’s talking to birds. “Estoy loco, verdad, ¿Gabri? [I’m crazy, right, Gabri?] I shouldn’t… but I do. I know it’s not likely. Dulzura [sweetness], she loves her apartment, so much. She’d never consider it, plus… This was only because of what happened at her building, not for any other reason. So there’s that.” Miguel frowns, picking up blades of grass with his fingers. He twirls a piece between his thumb and forefinger. “Aun así… No puedo dejar de pensar en el día que se ira [Even then… I can’t stop thinking about the day she’ll leave]. Thinking about it - it upsets me. I have no right, I know.” He gently lets go of the grass, watching it blow away with the breeze. He turns to the bird, still there. “¿Tu que? ¿Te gusto escuchar el chisme? [What of you? You liked hearing the gossip?]” He tilts his head to the side, wondering if something is wrong with this bird, but it moves just fine, no sign of injury.
He sighs.
“… I’m going to miss her, Gabriel,” Miguel admits out loud, his thoughts still on you and the fact it’s inevitable for you to move back to your apartment. “A lot,” he whispers. “But I can’t possibly ask. I can’t put her in a hard position. So, I guess in a few weeks, I’ll be staying at the penthouse on my own. Again.”
Miguel stares at the bird, wondering what his brother would say. He’d be positive about it. He’d say something like how things will work out the way they’re supposed to. So, Miguel holds on to that thought, even if things have not always turned out great for him.
-♡-
The next day, the Spider Society’s HQ is buzzing with energy since it’s Monday. Miguel and you walk side by side as you both enter the training sector, a floor designed for all forms of training, including simulations. You glance at Miguel, who’s carrying a gym bag on his broad shoulder.
Once or so every week, you join the spider gang to do training simulations but due to the cold and your period, you’re not entirely up for it today. So, you decided to ask Miguel if he’d like to join them in your place. He seem reluctant at first but then you added that you’d be here, and he agreed.
You know Miguel works out frequently, sometimes in the afternoon when everyone is gone from HQ, but ever since you temporarily moved in with him, he’s been opting to work out at home. Apparently owning the penthouse means a private gym, which Miguel told you about a few days after you moved in when he remembered it. Of course, he said you could use it if you wanted to, especially because it’s better since it’s more private than the training sector at HQ, where all the spider people train and work out.
Today, though, it seems he might try to work out a bit with the spider gang, hence his backpack to change into other clothes once the training simulation is over. The two of you walk through the sector, the place filled with many, many gym machines and then some more to accommodate the strength of the spider people, such as big blocks of metal among other things that no regular human will ever be able to lift.
As Miguel and you walk further inside, you finally spot the group, so you both head straight for them. You’re about fifty feet away from them when someone calls your name.
“Y/N.”
Miguel and you both turn, halting. Your gaze finds none other than Ben Reilly, who you know spends a lot of time here at the training sector. You smile softly at him and wave.
“Hi, Ben,” you greet him.
“Hey,” Ben replies, giving you somewhat of a smile. He raises his arm to wave back, flexing his bare biceps as he does so, not wearing his suit but rather work out gear. “Hope you’re - feeling better.”
Tilting your head to the side, you offer yet another smile. You didn’t know that others paid that much attention, though maybe it was the fact that Miguel didn’t show up that alerted them. And maybe someone from the spider gang mentioned it, so it may have reached other members’ ears.
“That’s kind of you, Ben, thank you. I’m doing much better, for sure. I still feel a little fatigue, but the worst has passed.”
“Glad to hear that, and to see you back,” he says, nodding. “See you around.”
“Alright, see you around!”
With that, you continue walking, Miguel following a step behind, his brows knitted.
It’s like he wasn’t even there, standing next to you. He glances back, finding Ben staring in your direction but immediately looking away when he notices Miguel’s gaze. He watches for a few seconds as Reilly starts working out again. Miguel exhales deeply as he turns to face the front again.
Weird, he thinks to himself as you both approach the group.
“Huh, Miguel did show up,” Hobie says, as if he expected Miguel to back out.
“This will be so much fun! Miguel is joining us for the first time!” Pav says cheerfully.
You smile as you notice the overall excitement about Miguel joining the spider gang for training today. Over the last few months, you’ve noticed Miguel trying to be more open with them and you have to admit, this little opportunity might help even more. The fact that he even accepted makes you feel very grateful and excited, even if you’re not participating today, unfortunately. Your hope, however, is that maybe after today, Miguel might be willing to train with the group from now on, including you.
“This should be interesting,” Peter B. says with Mayday hanging out on his shoulder, before everyone starts off to the simulation square, excited and eager.
Jess steps back, taking a seat on the edge of the running track. Sometimes she participates and other times she doesn’t, today being one of those days. You nod to Miguel.
“I’m going to sit with Jess. Good luck,” you tell him softly, offering a smile of encouragement.
Miguel raises an eyebrow, playfully. “Gracias [thank you]. I’ll see you in a few minutes.” Miguel watches as you take a seat next to Jess, satisfied that you’re safe and settled down, resting.
He heads to the simulation center where everyone is already waiting for him. The holographic walls engage right away, similar to those barriers used to capture anomalies except these can be broken.
From your spot, you watch as the simulation officially begins. The system selects a random New York from the database along with a random villain from those that have been captured, using the information it has on behavior and skills.
As soon as the villain pops up, the team jumps into action, quickly agreeing on roles and tasks before they split or team up.
As Jess and you watch, Jess breaks the silence.
“So… how is it?”
“How is what?” you ask, giving her a glance.
“Living with Miguel.”
“Oh,” you reply simply. You weren’t exactly expecting that question, so you feel caught off guard for a few seconds before you collect your thoughts. “It’s… great.”
“Just great?”
You chuckle. “I’m sorry, your question caught me off guard.” You sigh, watching how Hobie and Pav launch themselves off a building, swinging easily across the city. “I’ve… It’s amazing,” you start, which makes one of Jess’s eyebrows shoot up. “It’s really nice living with someone - living with Miguel. He’s a very respectful, responsible person. So… considerate. Our routines kind of - just clicked.” You pause, watching how Miguel swings after Hobie now, telling him something. Hobie nods before he parts ways with him.
Jess hums, listening.
“I’m thankful he offered his place to stay. I never thought I’d experience a fire at my building.”
“Girl - your building - I don’t mean to be mean but,” she pauses and you laugh softly.
“Okay, maybe I shouldn’t say I never expected it. I’ll agree the building is - old.”
“I was thinking ancient but old works, too.”
Jess and you laugh again.
“I don’t mean it in a bad way,” Jess says. “It’s an older building, a fire was probably not out of the question, but I understand why you’re… attached to it.”
“It’s been my home for several years. It was the place where Peter and I started our lives together.” You lean back on your hands. “But I also do find it to be cute, in its own way. Anyway, I guess a fire in the near future was not too out of the question but still, I didn’t think - so soon, I guess. It threw me off, into an unexpected situation, and I’m thankful to Miguel for opening his home to me. To all of you for offering your homes, too.”
Jess hums again. “You know my home is still open to you.”
“I know, thank you again. Hobie and the Morales family have continued to offer, but all of you have families. I didn’t want to disrupt anyone’s life. I still feel like I’m disrupting Miguel’s.”
“You’re not,” Jess says rather quickly. She shakes her head. “You know better than most people that Miguel hardly spent time at his home. It’s only been recent that he started to, at least the nights for some reason,” she says, looking at you as if you have the answers.
You keep a neutral face. You’re close with Jess, with the spider gang, but you’re not going to reveal the reason why Miguel has been going home almost every night for a whole year. You’re not going to reveal that each weekend, you offer Miguel a sweatshirt fresh with your scent nor that his gizmo plays the sound of you sleepy breathing - that both things help him sleep because they bring him comfort, that his nightmares have slowly decreased over time.
Jess hums softly, understanding. “Whatever the reason… He goes home and sleeps, I think. That’s all that matters. And recently, because you’re staying with him, he goes home earlier. Do you know how big that is?” she asks, raising an eyebrow. “It’s huge. Before you and him - became close - there were times, very rare, when I’d find him slumped over his monitors, passed out. Most of the time though, he hardly slept. He was always in a mood because of his lack of sleep. And don’t get me started on the lack of food. He’d skip meals, too.” Jess pauses and turns to look at the team, still in the simulation. Her eyes find Miguel, thinking about what a different man he is now. “You’re not disrupting anyone’s life, much less Miguel’s - believe that.” Jess stops at that, though there’s more she’d like to say, like how ever since she met Miguel and especially after losing Gabriella, Miguel was merely existing. He went through the days in a blur, day blending into night, in that dark and lonely lab of his.
Over the last year though?
Miguel O’Hara has been living.
It’s as if he’s found a new reason to try at life.
But he’s not the only one.
Jess hums to herself and turns to look at you, offering one of those smiles that never fails to bring you comfort from your once mentor.
Maybe one day, both Miguel and you will realize what you’ve truly done for each other.
For now, Jess Drew keeps smiling at you. “I’m glad to have you here, you know? This place would be very different without you.”
You smile at Jess, thinking. “Thank you, Jess. For going back to my universe even after I first declined the invitation.”
“Don’t worry about it. You made me ask and ask again, but I’m just glad you accepted at last.”
Humming, you think back to the reason for you joining. Your Peter. Jess brought him up, hoping it’d convince you. At first you wondered how she had known about him but being part of the Spider Society for some time now, you know potential recruits are watched for a few days. Mentors make sure that potential new recruits are not a liability for the society, which means Jess probably spent a few days observing you without your knowledge until she deemed you safe for recruitment. During those days, she quickly put together your life - what your schedule was like, the people that had once being in your life, and the fact that most of your talking was with petty criminals and villains before you went to an empty home.
There’s been times over the course of your time at the Spider Society when you’ve wondered where you’d be right now if you had never joined. Of course, there might never be a way to know for sure but a part of you senses that you’d still be on your own. The mere thought fills you with sadness but even more so when you think about the possibility of never meeting the people around you.
There’s a chance you would’ve never met any of them; no Hobie, Pav, or Miles. No Gwen or Margo. No Peter B. or Jess. No Noir, Penny, or Spider-Ham.
No Miguel.
Staring at the group, who are almost done with the simulation, you give a silent thank you to Peter, your Peter, from wherever he is. He was the reason you joined the society, the one that swayed your decision.
You turn to Jess. “Thank you,” you say again.
“For what?”
“You know, going back to get me to join.”
Jess smirks. “I already told you, not to worry about it - but you’re welcome,” she says, nudging your side.
Chuckling, you nudge her back.
It’s good to be here.
With a sigh of content, you watch as the simulation ends. The spider gang steps out of the holographic walls, some of them heading to the area with machines to use them.
Jess and you continue to sit by the track race, catching up on her life. A few minutes later, you both notice Miles and Pav stick to Miguel’s side as he fixes a machine to his needs before he starts using it. He’s changed into dark sweatpants and a black t-shirt, the clothes he had in his gym bag. You nod at something Jess says, watching for a few seconds as Miguel works on his arms, Pav and Miles still at his side, talking to him.
From somewhere, you hear a man grunt, catching Jess’s and your attention.
Ben Reilly puffs out air as he lifts a barbell that no human could ever lift. His bare arms tense under the weight and he let's out another noise. His arms shake as he lowers it one more time, trying to get one last rep, but even from your spot, you can see he'll struggle to lift it.
“I think Ben has pushed it too far,” Jess remarks.
“I think he might need help putting it back,” you add, frowning. “Be right back.” You stand up and approach him, noticing the shaking even more as you walk closer. You're about six feet away from him when someone brushes past you, in front of you.
It's all so quick it leaves you feeling caught off guard, but the familiar scent immediately reaches your nose before your eyes find the person.
Miguel.
He stands behind Ben and gives you a reassuring nod. “I got it. Here Ben,” he says, offering his hands to help the other Spider-Man. You notice his suit activates even over his gym clothes. It seems he doesn't want accidental physical contact.
You nod back as Ben hands the barbell to him before Miguel places it back. Meanwhile, Ben looks at you with a defeated look.
You give him a small smile. It seems he's upset about not being able to continue his reps. You step back and go back to Jess and Peter B., who’s now sitting next to her. They seemed to be gossiping about something, giggling to themselves.
“-ckblocked!” is all you manage to hear from Peter B., giggling.
Jess laughs. “Shush!”
They both notice you and hold back from their laughter.
“Should I be concerned?” you ask, taking a seat next to Jess.
“No, don't worry about it,” Jess says more seriously.
“It's nothing. You're safe,” Peter B. says.
“Safe?” you ask, confused.
“He's just being a goofball. You know how he gets,” Jess says, discreetly nudging Parker.
You shrug and turn towards Miguel and Ben, finding him talking to Reilly still.
“There's a more efficient way to do it,” Miguel says as he take the barbell, positioning his body correctly. “Look.”
Miguel demonstrates by lifting the barbell, stretching his arms above his head. His gaze is focused, staring right ahead as he brings the barbell to his chest. His suit is back to being disengaged now that Reilly is a few feet away from him, so you can see his arms flex as he moves. Your eyes take in the sight of his sleeves, which become even more taut as his muscles flex.
Miguel continues to demonstrate by holding the barbell for a few seconds before he lifts it up again, his torso’s muscles becoming prominent beneath his t-shirt. His gaze remains focused ahead, but then, it flickers to you, meeting yours.
You hold his gaze, giving him a smile and a nod, encouraging him to go on. He returns the nod, his gaze still on you for a few seconds before Ben says something to him, making Miguel’s gaze turn away from you, almost hesitantly.
You turn away and face Jess and Peter B., who you find wiggling his eyebrows at Mayday. Jess and you laugh, returning to your conversation from earlier.
Half an hour later, you decide to do at least a little bit of walking to stretch your legs, so you begin to walk around the track on your own, leaving Jess and Peter B., along with Mayday, to talk. You see them giggling again, once you’re out of ear shot, which makes you wonder but you decide to not investigate. Probably parent stuff.
A minute or two later, Miguel falls in step with you. “Doing a little walking?” he asks, looking over at you before he wipes his brow with the back of his hand.
“Yeah, I figured I’d stretch my legs a little bit, considering I hardly moved the last few days.”
Miguel nods, smiling. “I’m glad to see you’re in better spirits, to see you back on your feet.”
You return the smile. “So am I, which… reminds me.” You hold his gaze as you stop walking. “Thank you for looking after me. I…” you trail off, collecting your thoughts. “It was a while since I had become sick, but all those times, I was on my own. I got used to looking after myself, I guess, so much I forgot what it’s like to have someone worry about and look after me. Thank you, Miguel,” you say softly. “It meant so much to me.”
Miguel hums gently, nodding. You stand in front of each other, meeting each other’s gazes. “Always,” Miguel replies, his voice low, soft. “No matter what - always.”
You almost throw your arms around him. Almost pull him towards you to embrace him and not only “tell” how thankful you are for him, but also show him by giving him the tightest, warmest hug he’s ever received in his whole life.
You almost do it.
Yet, you don’t.
You wish.
Oh, how you wish you could.
You wonder. Maybe there’s a dimension out there, one that hasn’t been discovered yet in the vast multiverse, where you’re in each other’s lives, too, with the difference that that dimension’s Miguel has never shied away from physical contact.
Maybe another version of you gets to freely hug their Miguel, or rather their version of Miguel, not that Miguel is theirs in some way.
The point is, maybe there’s a universe where you don’t hold back from hugging Miguel when you wish to. One in which your version can just hug him.
Like you wish you could right now.
You smile at him, your arms wishing to wrap around him, despite his sweat. “Always,” you whisper.
You both smile at each other, forgetting that you’re in the Spider Society’s training sector with multiple sets of eyes and ears, some curious to catch a glance or a snippet of your moment and friendship.
After a few seconds, you begin to walk together again, soft smiles on your faces.
“I was thinking - how do you feel about homemade pizza for dinner?” Miguel asks, his gaze on you despite the multiple distractions in the space.
“Homemade pizza?” you ask.
“Yes, we can customize - if you’d like to, of course. I was just thinking - I don’t know where the idea came from.”
“Homemade pizza sounds amazing! I’m up for it,” you say looking up at him giddily, which only makes Miguel happy. “We’d need to buy a few ingredients, but we can get them.”
“I was thinking of going to the grocery store. Do you want to go with me?” Miguel asks, tilting his head.
You nod immediately. “Yeah, I’d love to! Just tell me what time, so I can get regular clothes on.”
“I was thinking leaving earlier today,” Miguel says as you both keep walking.
“How early are we talking?”
Miguel grins. “Like… an hour or two.”
You hum softly in response.
“Two hours before my usual departure time,” Miguel decides in the moment, the decision an easy one in your presence.
You grin. “You made your mind up quickly.”
Miguel rolls his eyes playfully. “We can meet up at the penthouse, change, and head to the grocery store.”
“Sounds like a plan,” you answer, looking forward to some homemade pizza and quality time with your best friend.
-♡-
Miguel carries the grocery basket while you both walk down the aisles, gathering the few ingredients that are needed for dinner. Just like Miguel suggested, the two of you left HQ thirty minutes ago, two whole hours earlier than Miguel usually leaves, and went straight to the penthouse to change in to regular clothes, and are now at one of Miguel’s favorite grocery stores in Nueva York.
You’ve seen it before but you’re still in awe as you both shop around, noticing the holograms for screens from which the best deals and newest items are displayed for customers to see. You even catch sight of holographic AIs, much like Lyla, that customers can refer to if they can’t find an item.
Even though it’s just a grocery trip, you find yourself enjoying it because you get to see more of Miguel’s universe, and you’re not the only one. Miguel walks next to you, the grocery basket looking like it’s part of a child’s grocery toy set near him, with great contentment thanks to your wide eyes and “oohs” when you see something exciting. You even end up checking out the sweets aisle, where Miguel added everything that you seemed to stare at for too long to the basket despite your protest once you noticed it.
At last, the two of you head to the check out section. Even though Miguel used the “scan and go” mobile option and paid online, you must show up to this area for an employee to check the purchases. So, you both stand there and wait for your turn to show the receipt. Meanwhile, you take a sip from a coffee Miguel bought you earlier from the attached coffee shop, insisting on you getting something. You declined at first but now that you’ve had it, you’re glad he offered because it’s great. Glancing at the cup, you notice there’s less than three sips left as you both step forward for a woman to scan your receipt from Miguel’s phone.
“How are you doing today? Did you guys find everything you needed?”
You nod with a smile, letting Miguel do the talking. It’s his universe after all.
“We did, thank you,” Miguel says as the lady scans the basket, placing the items in the bags Miguel brought with him.
You finish your drink and look around, noticing garbage bins nearby. “Hey, I’m going to throw this away real quick. It’s so good, I already finished it! Thank you for buying it for me,” you say with a smile. “I’ll be right back.”
Miguel gives you a small smile and nods before you head off.
The lady, noticing the interaction, smiles. “Aww, how sweet! You bought your girlfriend a coffee. What a gentleman,” she says, making Miguel nearly choke on his own saliva, something the lady seems to miss entirely, too busy talking and scanning the items to make sure everything is as it’s supposed to be. “And based on your groceries, you’re having a homemade pizza date.” She finishes her job and steps back, smiling. “You guys have a wonderful evening together!”
Miguel nods, still coughing quietly behind a small, sheepish smile. His cheeks are red as he approaches you, trying to stop the coughing. He stops a few feet behind you as you read something about the store’s recycling system. Apparently recycling is taken more seriously in Nueva York.
Miguel clears his throat, his chest finally calming down.
Your girlfriend, the lady said too happily, too certain. Like there’s no doubt that you’re Miguel’s girlfriend. He stares at your back as you read, still feeling shocked but he composes himself when you finally turn around to face him with a happy smile.
“This is really cool, I wish we had this in my… you know,” you say, remembering not to say anything about universes. The last thing you want is for people to think you’re talking crazy.
With a short exhale, Miguel nods, finding his voice once again. “The work they do is incredible. They’re trying to implement it to more stores like this one. It’s why I shop here, they’re a far more ethical company than others whose greed leads their decisions, even when it concerns everyone,” he explains softly as you both head to the exit.
“That’s really great, I’m glad you have that here. It’s unfortunate that’s not the case in all universes.”
“I know,” Miguel replies as you both begin to walk down the sidewalk. He doesn’t even realize it, but he walks closest to the street, keeping you away from it as he easily carries the bags in one hand, like it’s nothing.
The two of you continue to chat on the way home. Miguel points out buildings to you and answers questions you ask about certain things from his universe until the two of you eventually reach Miguel’s building. Instead of sneaking in through the windows like you both usually do, you get to the penthouse though the elevator and the main front door where Miguel asks you to open it, using your own fingerprint. He added you to the security system almost a year ago, so when you press your finger, the system immediately identifies you.
Together, you put groceries away before you both head to take a shower, in your respective bathrooms, of course.
Miguel, showered and wearing lounging clothes, makes it downstairs first. He heads to the kitchen to start gathering ingredients onto one of the counters, but he gets distracted though. There, on the counter, lies one of your hair ties. He takes a seat, just for a few seconds to look at it. You must have left it while you were putting items away and simply forgot about it.
Usually, you pick everything up, never leaving your personal items lingering around for too long. Miguel knows it’s because you don’t want to make the penthouse appear “cluttered” with your belongings, which Miguel has told you before that it’s fine. It’s not like small things such as your jewelry and hair accessories is going to make the space cluttered, but it seems you’re too respectful of the place to even leave a hair tie for longer than a few hours.
Due to that, Miguel appreciates the fact that you forgot your hair tie now. The truth is, he enjoys seeing little reminders around the penthouse that you’re here. It’s so comforting to him, to know he’s not alone in this big penthouse.
He gently picks it up now, as if it’s the most delicate of things. He finds himself smiling at the sight. Who knew a simple hair tie could bring such happiness to a man? He lets it slip down his fingers, still admiring it with a smile before he slightly stretches it. He’s very careful with it as he doesn’t want to rip it somehow. He learned from his short time with Gabriella that these things are sensitive.
“Miguel? Have you seen my hair tie?” you ask from the living room, coming to the kitchen.
Startled, Miguel quietly slams it back on the counter. His hand lays flat over it for the most part, minus his talons which came out from being startled since he failed to hear your footsteps, too focused on the hair tie. He turns to the entrance just as you walk in.
“... I have not,” Miguel says and then he moves his hand, his talons withdrawn now. He turns to the counter. “Never mind, it’s here.” He picks it up and holds it out, trying to play it off like he wasn’t holding it in his fingers just seconds ago.
You reach his side and take it, looking at it while your mind wonders. You smile. “Thank you. I forgot it down here.” You slip it onto your wrist for now. “Ready to start cooking?”
Miguel nods, his cheeks dusted with a blush. He’s relieved you didn’t catch him holding your hair tie. That’d be too much, right? “Ready,” he replies, standing up.
As you begin to gather what’s needed, Miguel turns on his record player and chooses upbeat music to go with the mood.
With everything on the counter ready to go, you work on the sauce while Miguel works on the dough. He offered to work on it, saying his hands could cover more ground than your smaller ones.
“Plus, years of making tamales will help,” he says as he finds the appropriate measuring cup.
Once Miguel is done and you have the sauce on the stove, you begin to prepare the toppings side by side on the counter, chatting about what you’re putting on your pizzas. At one point, you finish with your part of the toppings, so you move on to prep the pans for the dough while Miguel dices some vegetables.
While prepping the pans, you glance at the windows, noticing the way the kitchen is illuminated with golden hues, giving Miguel’s place a very cozy vibe. You even notice little rainbows on the ceiling, which you point out to him.
Staring at them, he can’t remember ever noticing them before, until now. He smiles at the sight, finding it cute that you noticed that and shared it with him.
You eventually begin to work with the dough for your pizzas when it’s ready since it needed to do its thing. The mood is a light one as you work side by side on the counter. After the last few days with you being sick and running into Harry, this moment is a relaxing one for both Miguel and you. Time seems to slow down as you both continue to talk, at some point even about the grocery store and how you think it’s, “so cool,” which earns yourself a smile from Miguel.
You add a little bit of flour to your dough before you roll the pin over it, trying to make it into a decent circle. You turn to look at Miguel’s to see how his is doing. You notice it looks great, and also that his fingerprints are all over the dough just like yours are over your own.
“Your dough looks-” you pause when you look at his face. You instantly smile and try not to chuckle. “Great. It’s almost a perfect circle.”
“You think so?” Miguel asks giving you his attention, unaware that he has flour on his cheek and nose.
“Definitely,” you reply, smiling. Deciding not to tell him about it, you turn back to your own to keep working on it.
“Thank you,” Miguel says, feeling pleased with himself. “I’ve never made homemade pizzas before.”
You hum gently. “Me neither. It’s kind of funny, I guess. We cook a lot and we’ve never made any.”
“First time for the two of us then,” he replies with a smile, which makes you smile, too.
Silently, you both feel pleased about this - about the fact that you’re both doing something new, together.
“Hiiii, guys! Making pizza?” Lyla asks, popping out of nowhere. She floats in front of Miguel and you, taking a look down at the counter like a manager inspecting quality. “It’s looking good. You guys are good at this, look at you.” She grins and looks up at you two again.
You thank Lyla before Miguel adds a quiet “thanks” as well.
“Uh - hm,” Lyla starts but stays quiet, noticing the flour on Miguel’s face. “Picture!” Before Miguel and you can react, Lyla takes a picture. “So sweet!”
“Lyla - always the same thing with you,” Miguel says but his tone is not angry or even bothered. In a way, his tone reminds Lyla of a disappointed parent.
She grins knowing that at this point, both of you have accepted that she takes pictures whenever she wants. “It’s not the first one I’ve taken today,” she says shrugging. “I took some before I even popped up.”
You raise an eyebrow but once again, don’t feel surprised. “How many have you taken?” you ask.
“A few. I may show them to you later,” she says. “I’m still deciding.”
“I can always just look for them,” Miguel says as he adds sauce to the dough.
“Good luck with that,” Lyla says, crossing her arms over her chest. “So… are you guys just making pizzas? No movie, no telenovela?”
You turn to look Miguel. You hadn’t thought of that, and it seems neither did Miguel because he turns to look at you with a look that confirms so.
“I… Didn’t think of that,” Miguel says. “Do you want to watch a movie?”
You shrug slightly. “If you want to. I’m up for it.”
“I have the best movie rec for you guys,” Lyla says clapping her hands. “It’s about a guy and a girl. They meet up and then become best of friends and -”
“So, you’re going to give us a summary?” Miguel asks.
Lyla sighs. “You know what? I’ve changed my mind. I’ll give you guys another rec.” She taps her chin, thinking. “The guy and girl end up together in the end,” Lyla says quietly to herself with a grin, watching you two. “You guys feel like watching an action movie? Maybe a mystery one? Or a horror movie? Or - maybe a romcom?” Lyla says, laying out the options, an eyebrow raised.
“I’m not picky,” Miguel says as he watches you carefully spread sauce. “What do you want to watch, dulzura [sweetness]?”
Your hand falters for a fraction of a second when you hear the nickname. Just a few days ago Miguel said it for the first time and since then, he’s said it a few more times - dropping the nickname here and there. Every single time has been when you’re both alone, either here at the penthouse or at the lab.
Either way, it’s caught you by surprise each time without failure. You smile softly at him. “I’m not picky either, we can watch anything, really.”
“Well, if I may… I say no horror,” Lyla says. “The sun is still out. The vibes for it are not it, you know?”
“Wait, I kind of want to see how horror movies are made in this universe with all the technology you have,” you say realizing.
Lyla frowns and Miguel smiles.
“You want to? I’m not a big horror fan but there’s a few classic ones.”
“Yeah… I think I’d like that,” you say nodding.
Lyla watches as Miguel shrugs. “We’ll watch that then.”
You both continue to work on the pizzas, adding your toppings now. Lyla stays in place, arms crossed over her chest with a frown. She sighs. “I still think my first rec was better than any horror movie but what do I know? I’m just the silly AI,” she mumbles.
“What is that word the spiderlings were using today?” Miguel says as he thinks back to training earlier today. “When someone just keeps talking?
“You mean, ‘yapping?’”
“Yeah, that one. Lyla is doing that right now,” he says looking at Lyla.
“You did not -” Lyla stops and facepalms.
“Professional yapper,” you say which makes Miguel chuckle next to you.
“Not you guys calling me a profesional yapper,” Lyla says.
“She’s still going,” Miguel comments as he adds more toppings to his pizza, smirking.
“I see why you’re best friends,” Lyla says in disbelief, which makes both Miguel and you chuckle. She shakes her head, not annoyed but amused. It’s good to see the two of you smiling and laughing. She’s slightly temped to say that you’re both “professional yappers” with each other, staying up until 3am in the living room talking about the most random things, but she holds back. “I’ll set up a horror movie for you guys,” she says with a sigh, disappearing.
An hour later, Miguel and you are sitting in the living room. Neither of you planned to watch a movie today, especially not over dinner but because of Lyla’s suggestion, you’re now both sat on the ground over the coffee table. You cleared it earlier to make space for the plates and drinks, and everything else needed. The blinds have been drawn, leaving the living room in complete darkness except for the TV.
The movie starts, so Miguel and you begin to eat, sitting across from each other.
“Wow, this is great,” Miguel murmurs after he finishes eating the first bite. “Wanna try it?”
Seeing you nod, Miguel offers the plate for you to grab a slice from his.
“Try mine,” you say softly, offering your plate, too.
Hums of approval for each other’s pizzas follows. Napkins and crushed red pepper flakes are exchanged, fingers brushing in the darkness.
You watch the movie in peace, exchanging words here and there until you decide to do an intermission halfway to use the bathroom and clean the remainder of the kitchen, not having much left to do since you both tried to clean up as you were cooking to avoid having a huge mess behind. You head upstairs to your bedroom when you’re both done cleaning to grab a sweatshirt since you’ve grown cold downstairs with the AC constantly turning on. You slide it on, fixing the sleeves when you notice your hair tie, the one you were looking for earlier. You forgot you left it on the counter after arriving back from the grocery store and looked for it here in your room, having forgot where you left it.
You tug at it gently, thinking. Miguel may have been able to play it off well, but it was a second too late.
You saw him holding it and though you weren’t able to see his face, his bashful reaction when you entered the room said a lot. You’ve known for some time that Miguel doesn’t mind you leaving your items around. He’s gone on to say you’re not cluttering the space because he knows that’s how you think, and even Lyla has told you that it probably brings some sort of comfort to Miguel. You hum softly to yourself, ready to head downstairs again as you think about the hair tie when your eyes land on the bookcase inside the room. It so happens to land on a photograph of your parents. It’s a photograph you used to have on your wall back at your apartment, so of course, you have it on display here. You walk over to it, staring at your parents.
It’s hard to believe how many years have gone by since they passed away, so many more than Peter. It hurt at the time, to know that you weren’t there to save them. You miss them every day, wished they were here. Sometimes you wonder if you would’ve told them about your secret, about being Spider-Woman if they were still alive.
You don’t know. Maybe not with the dangers that come with it. You smile and place a finger on the photo, thinking about how a few weeks ago it was Mother’s Day, which reminds you of Father’s Day. With a sigh, you tap the photo gently and whisper an “I love you” to your parents’ photograph before you check your gizmo.
Sure enough, Father’s Day is this Sunday, in just a few days. You check the calendar, noticing that it’ll be Father’s Day in other universes, too, including Miguel’s.
You turn to a photo of him and you, also displayed in the bookcase.
It’s one of the photos Lyla took in the past, the day she revealed that she takes photos, to be exact. It was the day you were painting picture frames at your apartment, in the middle of redecorating, when Miguel showed up to invite you for dinner as a thank you for looking after him. You remember it now. You had paint on your face and he didn’t tell you until later on, when he wiped it away.
The memory reminds you of Miguel’s face while you were cooking earlier, his cheek and nose dusted with flour. You grin at the memory and leave your bedroom, still thinking about Father’s Day. You silently debate about it as you walk down the staircase. You’d like to gift Miguel something but you wonder if it’s a good idea at all. You don’t want to upset him, to cause him any more pain than necessary. In the past, you’ve never spent the day with him, so you don’t know what he does, if he even reacts to it. This will be the first year you’ll be in his presence for the day and a part of you feels worried.
You reach the end of the stairs, now in the living room. You hear noise in the kitchen, alerting you that Miguel is there. You turn to the wall of photographs you put together, illuminated softly by a lamp Miguel turned on earlier when you both decided to take a break.
Miguel has changed a lot, this wall is a great sign of that but you still wonder if gifting him something on Father’s Day might upset him.
“Everything okay?” Miguel asks stepping into the living room.
You turn, startled. You’re still amazed sometimes at how he manages to sneak up on you. You’d think that a man of his size would make more noise when walking but no. Sometimes he walks so silently, you don’t know he’s there until he speaks up.
“Yes, I was just - looking,” you reply, glancing back at the wall, at a photo of Gaby. You smile softly at it for a second before giving Miguel your attention. He’s already walked to the coffee table, which has been cleared once more. He places two mugs on the surface, over coasters, and sits down on the floor again.
“What did you make?” you ask but you already have an idea as you make your way over.
“Give it a second,” he says with a soft smirk, knowing that the scent will reach your nose soon enough.
You reach the table, noticing the mugs filled with a dark liquid. Your favorite.
“I’m not even going to ask how you made it so quick,” you say which makes Miguel chuckle.
“I won’t reveal my secrets, then.”
You snort softly and turn your gaze to him, noticing he still has flour on his face. “I’ll be right back.” You head to the kitchen for a napkin, returning to the table in no time. You kneel on your side of the table.
“I forgot to tell you earlier,” you start as you fold the napkin while Miguel watches you with curiosity, wondering.
“What is it?” he asks softly, his head tilting to the side.
“You have a little something - right,” you lean over the table, carefully, and reach with the napkin. “Here,” you say, wiping his cheek and then dabbing his nose gently. You pull back, not missing the way Miguel blinks in surprise, his brows knitting slightly. He didn’t protest nor pulled back though, he simply accepted it, either willingly or because he was too caught off guard.
You place the napkin down and pick up the mug, taking it in both hands and inhaling the rich scent. “Always smells so good,” you mumble bringing it to your mouth. “Thank you for making it.”
Miguel nods, still blinking. His brain is having a moment, trying to catch up. “Si [yes], you’re we- Always,” he says. stammering. “I hope you like it,” he adds picking up his own and holding it with one hand.
“Should we unpause?”
“Yeah, I - I got it.” Miguel grabs the remote and unpauses as he speaks. “Thank you for, you know, my face,” he says as the movie starts playing again.
“Always,” you say humming, your eyes on the TV once more as you settle down and get comfortable.
You watch the rest of the movie without pauses, drinking your coffees in comfy lounging clothes. Miguel threw on a sweatshirt earlier, too, so you’re both donning sweatshirts now. It’s not until the movie is over that you realize it’s the same one he offered to you when you were sick. Of course, you threw it in the wash since you were sick and returned it to him, along with his blanket.
You glance at Miguel as he reads from a book. It’s a new one. Apparently he finished the previous one while looking after you a few days ago. He turns the page, his eyes moving across the page. You’re both still sitting on the ground, across from each other.
You turn back to your tablet, looking for gifts to give fathers. You don’t even know why you searched that up, but you did, almost mindlessly, as soon as you grabbed the tablet. So now, you’re “just looking.” You’re not buying anything. You don’t think so.
As you scroll, your mind is contemplating.
Should you, or should you not?
You know it might be a hard day for Miguel but at the same time, simply ignoring the day and making it seem like it’s a regular Sunday seems cruel to you.
You chew on your bottom lip.
Which is crueler? Ignoring the day, or bringing it up?
“What are you thinking about?”
You look up, caught off guard. Miguel is staring at you, his book in one hand held open by a finger.
“I… Nothing,” you say softly.
“I don’t believe you,” Miguel replies, knowing you too well. Something is bothering you.
“I… well,” you start, trying to give yourself time to think of a little white lie. “It’s just … I’m thinking about… Yesterday.” You nod, finding a truth. “When I went to the cemetery, I saw Harry there.”
Miguel nods, not giving away that he knows you’re telling him something else. He noticed the way you were thinking, giving yourself time. He goes along with it anyway, trusting that whatever was truly on your mind, you’ll feel comfortable to share with him later on if you wish to. At least, it doesn't seem to be life or death. Still, the fact that you ran into Harry makes his brows raise.
“You did?”
“Yeah. He didn’t see me. I - I fled like a criminal from Peter’s grave,” you say wincing as you realize that’s basically how you left, running away from there before he could spot you. “I didn’t want to run into him and have to give him an answer when I don’t have one yet. Or, have to tell him that I’m still thinking about it, you know? So, I just - avoided him.”
“I don’t blame you,” Miguel replies gently, placing his book down after saving his page with a bookmark. “It’s only been a few days since you saw him again after so many years. I hope he’d understand that his request might need more than a few days to be considered.”
Leaning back on the couch, you nod, relieved Miguel didn’t notice that you very last minute thought of the Harry situation. “I’m sure he would - at least the Harry I knew back then would, but I suppose that doesn’t matter much now. Maybe I don’t know him anymore. So many years have gone by and I’ve changed. Maybe he has, too.”
“Change - is good,” Miguel answers. He knows that himself. He wouldn’t be here now if it wasn’t for the changes he’s made in his life, for accepting and embracing them even when there have been times when it was hard. “Maybe he has changed - matured,” he adds, leaving out that maybe he’s learned not to abandon friends in need. He frowns, his hand curling into a loose fist for a few seconds before he relaxes. “It’s only been a few days. You still have time to think about it, figure out what you think is best for you. Not for him.”
Letting Miguel’s words sink in, you nod with a small smile. “I appreciate your encouraging words. I’ll admit, this threw me off guard more than I’d like, so I find your words reassuring. I don’t need to rush and make a decision,” you say. “I just need to not feel guilty or selfish about it.”
“That’s the last thing you are,” Miguel says leaning on the coffee table slightly. “You’re not selfish for taking your time, nor would you be selfish if you chose to - step back, even if it’s for now. I’m… I have no right to say anything. I know he was in your life since your childhood, and I’m no one to tell you-” Miguel says pausing to gather his thoughts.
“You’re my best friend,” you say softly, seizing Miguel’s pause to speak. “I appreciate your thoughts, your advice - I’ll say what you once told me - you’re someone to me.”
Miguel hums, a smile forming on his lips when he hears you reciprocate his very words from so long ago. Back then, he was unable to call you his friend, so he used the word “someone” instead. “You’re someone to me, too.” Now, he can say it though, so he does. “You’re my best friend.”
Smiling back at him, your heart is elated to hear those words from Miguel’s mouth once again. To have him verbally say it - you’re his best friend.
And he’s yours.
You push down the happiness, remembering you were talking about Harry and your decision. “So… you were saying?” you ask.
“Right,” Miguel says, also recalling what the conversation is even about. “I was saying that… Well, my opinion doesn’t matter at the end of the day. No one’s does. The decision is up to you, but no one would blame you for stepping back, or asking Harry for more time to think about it, but that’s just a thought. All I hope is that you don’t feel pressure, nor stress from your decision when you make one.”
You nod, thinking about his words as you rub your thumb over your knuckles. “I don’t know right now. I don’t have a clear answer, and I don’t want to rush into making one.” You sigh and meet his gaze. “You’re right. It’s only been a few days, and I spent a lot of those days resting and sleeping, so I hardly even gave it a thought. A few more days won’t be so bad.”
“I concur,” Miguel says. “There’s plenty of time to think about it. Just - don’t get too stressed about it, okay? I have a feeling part of the reason why you got sick was because of stress you were - are - feeling about this situation.”
“I won’t, I’ll take it easy,” you reassure Miguel. “I don’t want to get sick again.”
“Me neither,” Miguel says, genuinely as he hated seeing you sick. “I hated seeing you sick, you know…”
You flash him a smile, moving your thumb from your knuckles to your wrist, feeling your hair tie. “I can imagine. I hated seeing you injured a year ago.”
He hums in response, understanding. If he hated seeing you sick with a cold, he can only imagine what he’d feel if something else - something worse - happened to you. He silently prays he never has to witness something like that with you. “Hopefully, it never gets to something like that again. For either of us.”
“I hope not,” you reply, still touching your hair tie. “By the way…”
“Yeah?” he says, raising an eyebrow.
“Do you want more café de olla [coffee]?”
Amused, he nods. “Yeah, I could go for another mug.”
“I got it then,” you say, standing up and grabbing both your mugs. Miguel thanks you as you head to the kitchen. You come back a minute later and place yours down, holding on to his. “Here,” you say, placing his in front of him.
He looks at it, smiling. “Thank you again, I appreciate it,” Miguel says softly before he notices your hair tie next to it, laying on the table. He looks up just as you sit down once more. “You dropped your hair tie,” he says picking it up, remembering earlier when you almost caught him playing with it.
“I did? Oh, I didn’t even notice,” you say, surprised. “I had it in my pocket. Hold it for me, let me get a napkin, yeah?”
“Yeah, of course.” Miguel watches you return to the kitchen, still holding your hair tie.
You return and sit down, placing napkins for each other. You notice Miguel is still holding on to your hair tie. “I think I’m just going to leave it here for now. It was bothering my wrist earlier and seems like it fell from my pocket. I don’t want to lose it,” you say. “It’s my favorite.”
Miguel nods, holding it. He places it down gently, like it’s some delicate item that might break. “You can leave it here on the coffee table, so you don’t lose it.”
“You’re right, I’m going to leave it here,” you say with a smile before you pick up your tablet again, not giving it more attention than necessary to avoid raising any suspicions.
Miguel goes back to reading after a few seconds, seeing you go back to whatever it was you were doing on your tablet.
A little while after searching the internet for gift ideas, you subtly look up.
Miguel is leaning on the couch, his book in his hand. His eyes move across the page fast, intrigued by the plot of his book. Under the coffee table, which is built in a way that allows people’s legs under, you feel his lower leg resting against your own. You hadn’t even noticed it but now that you are, you’re aware of the warmth, finding it comforting.
Up on the table, his free hand rests there. His fingers are busy playing with your hair tie. He turns it around his fingers before he slips it down his hand to his wrist so he can flip the page.
You turn back to your tablet with a smile, saying nothing for now.
It’s much later when you’re both heading upstairs to sleep that he remembers he has it, still on his wrist. He stops in front of his bedroom and turns to face you.
For a moment you think he’s just doing his normal gesture, waiting for you to enter your bedroom first before he enters his to be a gentleman but you notice his hand on his wrist.
“I have your…” he starts, trailing off.
“It’s alright,” you say from your door. “You can keep it.”
“I - what?” Miguel asks, taken aback.
“You may keep it.”
“Your hair tie…?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s your favorite.”
“I know.”
“So you should have it back, then.”
“You can give it back tomorrow if you’d like, but I don’t mind. Keep it safe for me,” you say before you yawn, covering your mouth. “Goodnight, Migs. Sleep well, okay? I’ll see you in the mornin’.” You give him a little wave and a sleepy smile before entering your room, leaving Miguel in the hallway.
His fingers remain on your hair tie, wrapped around his wrist. For a few seconds, he stands still until he shakes his head, dropping his hand from his wrist and entering his bedroom at last.
Inside his room, he heads for the bathroom to do his night routine. He makes sure to take off your hair tie to avoid getting it damp, taking it back with him to the bedroom when he’s done and placing it on his nightstand. He takes off his shirt and throws it at the end of the bed before he gets the bed ready. In a few seconds, he settles under the covers with a sigh. He stares at the ceiling for several minutes, sleep slowly coming to him as he thinks. He eventually reaches for the hair tie and slips it into his wrist before he turns on his side.
Miguel’s hand searches the other side of the bed, looking for something. Once he finds it, he tugs it towards him along with a pillow. He easily slips the pillow into it, gently tugging the fabric down so the pillow is covered. At last, Miguel hugs the pillow, now covered by your sweatshirt, to his chest.
His eyes close as your scent reaches his nose.
“Lyla - do the thing,” he murmurs. Two seconds later, his gizmo plays the recording of your breathing.
With his sleep remedies in place, Miguel slowly succumbs to his slumber as he thinks about the day. There was training with the spider gang, which he enjoyed. He might join them again if they’ll have him. There was helping Reilly, who was acting strange today. He’s never seen Reilly struggle with a set before. Weird. Then, there was grocery shopping with you.
Miguel yawns quietly, shifting slightly to get comfy.
He bought you a coffee and you seemed to love it. Oh, and for some reason the lady working there thought you were his girlfriend. Strange. Then, you made pizzas and spent the evening watching the horror movie. Café de olla [coffee] was made and drank while you did your own things in each other’s company. The conversation of Harry came back.
Half-asleep and half-awake, Miguel sighs at that before he thinks about your hair tie, now on his wrist.
And to end the day, there was the nickname.
Migs.
More asleep than anything now, Miguel smiles sleepily, hugging your sweatshirt closer. “Buenas noches, dulzura [Good night, sweetness].” -Father’s Day-
Days later, you wake up around 8am. You go through your morning routine as usual, though you know what day it is.
It’s Sunday, but not just any Sunday.
You walk downstairs after changing into regular clothes, hoping to find Miguel on the first floor. You noticed his bedroom door is fully opened, which usually means he’s already awake but when you reach the first floor, he’s nowhere to be found. You check the office downstairs and the other living room. Nothing.
Stepping into the kitchen and dining room area, you notice a thermos with a note on it.
You reach for it, feeling the warmth from the bottle as you take off the sticky note. You almost get excited about the fact that he left you a note just like how you leave some for him on some days but his message doesn’t bring a smile to your face.
Frowning, you place the sticky note on the counter with his neat handwriting.
“Went to HQ. I’ll be back in a while. - M”
It’s not surprising that he’s at HQ on a Sunday. For as long as you’ve known him, you’ve known that Miguel was always at HQ, even on the weekends. Over the last year, you’ve noticed he only goes for a bit on both days before returning home, and ever since you’ve been staying with him, he goes for an hour or so. Even then, he’s been going later in the day, not so early like today.
You have a pretty good idea why.
Father’s Day.
You wondered over the week if Miguel would mention it, whether he would react to it as the day got here. He didn’t say nor react over the week, even when Peter B. mentioned something about it to Miles on Friday in his presence at which you shot him a look.
You know Peter B. meant no wrong by it, but sometimes it seems a bit inconsiderate considering the situation and how Miguel’s loss is still fresh.
You open the thermos, the amazing scent of coffee greeting you. You sigh. The fact that he still made coffee despite the day hurts.
“You’re too good,” you whisper to yourself, thinking about him. “Lyla?”
“Hey, there,” she says appearing instantly. “You want to know about Miguel?”
“Yes,” you reply, not bothering to wonder how she knows.
“He’s… at the lab.”
“I know that much,” you reply.
”He’s just working,” Lyla says, shrugging. “He always works today.”
You nod, frowning. “So there’s no missions, no emergencies?”
“Nope. Nada [nothing]. He’s just… there.”
“I see.”
“Are you gonna - join him?” Lyla asks.
“Do you think he’ll stay there all day?” you ask, wondering.
“In the past, he has but this year with you being here… I don’t know, honestly.”
Noticing your frown and worried expression, Lyla adds, “I’ll keep an eye out for him.”
You nod, grateful. “Thank you, Lyla.”
“You got it. Just - stay put, alright?”
“Alright.”
Lyla flickers away, leaving you alone. You check the time. It’s barely about to be 8:30.
You take a seat at the counter and drink the coffee in silence, thinking about how Miguel probably wants some alone time right now. You decide to let him be until noon, at which point you’ll show up to drop off some food so he can at least eat because you have a guess he hasn’t had anything except coffee.
After finishing your coffee, you eat something before going to your universe to check on things. You stay alert to your gizmo, just in case Lyla notifies you about anything, but no notifications come.
You return home an hour later after an easy patrol. Usually there’s no crimes on holidays like these, so there was no trouble. You do some light cleaning around the penthouse to waste time before you jump in the shower and get dressed for the day.
Back in the kitchen now, you notice it’s nearly noon. There’s still no sign of Miguel even when you decide to make lunch since you didn’t eat much before you went out.
It’s an easy lunch, so it doesn’t take long to finish making it. After eating, you gather ingredients onto one of the counters to bake. You decided a few days ago that you wanted to bake something for Miguel today, even if you play it off as a regular baking day and not because it’s Father’s Day.
“Hey, he’s heading out and coming back,” Lyla says as you place the last ingredient on the counter. “He’s a little quiet but not in a bad mood.”
“Thank you for letting me know. I appreciate it, Lyla,” you reply.
“Of course. Take care,” she says, deciding that she’s not needed. Miguel will have someone with him today. You. She waves goodbye before disappearing.
With Lyla gone, you start the oven and check on the lunch. You made plenty for both yourself and Miguel, so you begin to prep it for him.
Sure enough, you hear a window from the living room open a few minutes later. You look up just in time to see Miguel enter the kitchen, donning his suit. For a few seconds, you say nothing, trying to gauge his mood.
He reaches the counter, saying nothing. The oven beeps, indicating that it’s done preheating. It catches his attention, breaking him away from his thoughts.
“…Morning,” he says at last.
“Morning,” you reply. “Do you want something to eat?”
He starts to shake his head but his stomach grumbles with the scent of food in the air. “Yeah, but don’t worry about it. I’ll eat somet-”
“I made lunch,” you interject gently. “I made plenty, if you’d like some.” You fix a plate and show it to him. Thankfully he accepts it and eats at the counter, thanking you.
You do your measuring of ingredients, subtly looking at Miguel ever once in a while as he eats. You can definitely sense a different Miguel right now.
He finishes eating and excuses himself after he puts the dirty dishes away, promising to wash them in a bit before heading upstairs.
You bake on your own for a while. Lyla eventually plays music for you through Miguel’s sound system, probably finding the mood too somber, or something.
Half an hour later, Miguel walks back into the kitchen. His hair is damp and he’s dressed in a t-shirt and sweats. He approaches the counter, watching you as you check the oven through the glass.
When you turn to see him, he offers a small smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. The sight hurts you, but you don’t let it show.
“Hey,” he says. “How’s your baking going?”
“Um - good. No problems,” you reply, for a moment not knowing how to respond.
“Good, I’m glad it’s going well.”
You nod. “Do you - Did that meal fill you up? I can make something else.”
He shakes his head. “No, I’m alright, thank you. Lunch was good - it was fulfilling.”
“That’s good to hear.”
Miguel nods, thinking. He sits down, watching as you wipe the stand mixer down.
“I’m sorry,” he says suddenly, making you stop. “Today…” Miguel trails off.
“I know,” you say softly. “You don’t have to explain. I understand.”
He sighs gently, your words soothing him. He suspected you’d know but he still wanted to let you know.
“I’m better now,” he says after a few seconds. “I just needed - to be out of the penthouse for a moment. I’m sorry for leaving.”
“You don’t have to apologize.”
“I just left a sticky note,” he says, shaking his head at himself, as if disappointed at his actions. “Not - very nice of me.”
“Miguel,” you say, straightening up and meeting his gaze. “You don’t have to apologize nor give me any explanations. I understand you needed a moment, or maybe you need the day. And that’s understandable. No one would blame you for doing so.”
Miguel’s eyes soften, he offers a smile once again. This time, it looks more lively.
“Thank you for - always being so understanding, dulzura [sweetness],” he says, so softly.
“Always,” you reply, offering a warm smile.
Miguel keeps smiling, taking in the soft look on your face. You really are so understanding, so sweet.
“I’ll be here for you,” you add. “Whatever you want to do today, I’ll be here if you need me.”
He nods, looking at the counter now. “I really - don’t want to go anywhere.”
That makes sense. There’s probably families out and about, celebrating the day.
“We can stay here then. I’ll let you be.”
“No.”
“No?” you repeat.
“No, you don’t have to - let me be. You can… You can stay with me?” he says, sounding more like a question.
“If you want to… I can.”
“Yes - please.”
So you do. You stay near Miguel all day, like glue. You eat the baked sweets together, watch TV, and read. You make dinner together when it’s time and make conversation, keeping it lighthearted.
After dinner, Miguel asks if you want to go outside with him for some fresh air. Of course, you accept. You both climb out of the penthouse and up onto the roof.
Sitting down, your legs dangle off the building as you both watch the sunset. In the distance, you can see the traffic. You both sit there in silence for a while, watching the sun.
“That was pretty,” you murmur once the sun has set.
“It was, wasn’t it?” Miguel replies.
With a smile, you nod and lean back on your hands.
“Thank you,” Miguel says, making you turn to see him. “For sticking around with me. I really appreciate it.”
“Always,” you say softly, still smiling.
Miguel copies your position, leaning back on his hands. His fingers accidentally brush yours, so he shifts his hand to avoid squeezing yours under his weight.
You both stay like that for a few minutes. The silence is nice, comforting. You think about something as you look at the sky, and it’s not the first time. You’ve thought about it multiple times throughout the day but you’re still making up your mind, wondering if it’s a good idea.
You still debate it even when you both head back inside and tell Miguel you’re washing your hands in the bathroom even though it’s a lie.
You enter your bedroom and pull out the gift bag from the closet, debating. You sigh.
It’s probably not a good idea. Maybe you can wait until next year to give him these things, or maybe on another day that’s not Father’s Day.
“Dulzura [sweetness]?” you hear Miguel’s voice. “Are you okay?”
“I - yes!” You reply, moving quickly to put the bag away. In your rush, you slam your elbow on the closet door, wincing.
“I’m coming in,” Miguel says after hearing your wince.
He steps in just as you put the gift bag inside the closet, except it falls from where you placed it. You catch it quickly, remembering that something could break.
“You hurt yourself,” Miguel says stepping closer. “Are you okay? What happened?”
You huff slowly, giving up and placing the bag on the floor carefully before rubbing your elbow.
Superhuman or not, a hit on the elbow always hurts.
“Hit my elbow,” you say, still rubbing it.
“I heard the hit, let me see,” Miguel says. “It sounded loud.”
“It’s okay, just hit it on the door.”
“Allow me?”
You nod hesitantly, your face feeling hot out of embarrassment that you hurt yourself trying to hide the bag. You show Miguel your elbow, and he hums.
“Damn, dulzura. You broke the skin somehow - hold on.”
“It’s... fine,” you say watching as he exits the room. He comes back in seconds, a first aid kit in his hand. He motions for you to take a seat on the one chair in the room, so you obey. Reluctantly.
He gets down on one knee and gets to work, opening the first aid kit.
“It’s not that bad,” you say, looking at it. There’s some blood but that’s about it. Of course, it’s still stinging like hell - somehow getting worse.
“You’re bleeding,” he says as he opens an antiseptic wipe package. “Here. Let me see your arm.”
You hold it out for him, looking at his concentrated gaze. He shocks you when he gently wraps his free hand around your forearm - his fingers warm.
He gently wipes your elbow, which makes you wince.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers gently. “Just want to clean the area.”
You nod. “I know, it’s not that bad,” you keep saying.
That makes Miguel look at your face. “Why am I surprised? You’re a stubborn one, aren’t you?” He shakes his head and turns his attention back to your elbow. He was already gentle to begin with, but somehow he’s even more now.
“I’m not stubborn,” you say after a few seconds.
“Right, and everyone at HQ thinks I’m a beam of sunlight. They call me ‘solecito’ [little sun] - maybe you’ve heard members call me that before in passing,” Miguel says sarcastically, looking at you.
With serious faces, you stare at each other for a few seconds until your lips quiver, making Miguel’s quiver, too. Unable to hold back, you laugh.
Miguel chuckles, trying to hold back from full on laughing, but in the end, Miguel O’Hara laughs.
It’s a real laugh, so full of life. It’s the kind that makes his entire chest vibrate - rich and deep.
It’s the kind you’d do anything to hear again. And again. And again.
Your laughter subsides after a few moments but grins remain on your faces as Miguel continues to tend to your wound like you’ve come back from a rough mission.
“Solecito [little sun], huh?” you ask, chuckling slightly.
“Yeah, I’m everyone’s ball of sunshine,” Miguel replies as he puts away the antiseptic wipe. “You ripped your skin - what were you even doing in such a rush?”
You look to the side. “I was - putting something away.”
Miguel turns to look at the closet, noticing the gift bag on the ground. He hardly noticed it earlier, more concerned about you than anything else when he heard you wincing.
“A gift bag?” he asks turning back to you. His mind quickly connects the dots as he tends to your cut.
“Yeah…” you simply say, staring off to the side.
“You bought something?” he asks gently while he places an adhesive bandage on you.
You turn to face him and nod. “I did, but I didn’t know how to give it to you, and then when I saw you this morning - or in the afternoon rather - I felt it wasn’t a good idea.”
Miguel hums, his gaze softening. He’s done tending your wound but his hand remains wrapped around your forearm.
“And you hit yourself trying to hide it,” he says.
“I heard you coming in.”
“I came upstairs to grab my sweatshirt and then heard you sighing. It sounded like you were disappointed, so I just wanted to make sure you were alright. I didn’t mean for you to hurt yourself,” he replies, softly.
“It’s not your fault - I was just,” you pause and wave your free arm. “I didn’t want you to see it and then, have to tell you about it. I realized it wasn’t a good idea, so.”
“I’m okay,” Miguel replies. “You didn’t have to hide it. I’m sorry you felt like you couldn’t show it to me. The first part of the day was a little hard but… the rest of the day has been better.” Miguel offers a reassuring smile. “Thanks to you. So... If you want to show me… I promise I’ll be okay.”
“You’re sure?”
“Positive.”
You nod slowly. “Alright.” You shoot your web and pull the gift bag towards you. “Um - do you want to?” you say offering the bag to him.
He nods, releasing your arm at last. He accepts the bag. After all the trouble you went though, there’s no way Miguel isn’t accepting your gift, even if it makes him feel bittersweet.
He opens the bag, still on one knee, and reaches inside. He feels different objects but he goes for something that feels round and heavy, wrapped in paper, and pulls it out. He places the bag down for a moment.
You slide off the chair and sit on the ground, joined by Miguel a second later. He opens the package gently, sensing it’s something fragile.
Pulling off all the paper, he finally reveals the item and holds it up, his gaze soft.
It’s a pottery coffee mug with traces of the color lilac, but it’s the main design that tugs the most at Miguel’s heartstrings: two bees, one smaller than the other one, and “Father’s Day” written under it.
“You remembered,” he says tenderly. “You remembered what I told you about Gaby - that she loved the color lilac and bees.”
“I did,” you answer, smiling.
Miguel smiles, his chest fluttering with happiness and pure ternura [endearment] as he stares at the coffee mug. “And you made it yourself?” He asks, knowing that you’re a hobby person, you like to try new things.
“Yes. I went to two classes this week and worked on it then. It’s not perfect, being my first time with pottery but I hope you like it regardless.”
“I love it,” Miguel says sincerely, leaving no question or doubt about it. He holds it, not wanting to let go of it. In his mind, he already knows he’ll be using this mug every day for coffee.
“I’m glad you - love it,” you say softly, happy with your idea. “There’s more though.”
“Right,” he says remembering. He places the mug down and reaches for the bag. His fingers find a small box, so he pulls that out. His curiosity grows as he realizes it’s the size of a jewelry box. He glances at you, wondering.
“Open it.”
Miguel nods, opening it gently. His eyes widen for a moment as he finds a gold bracelet, the kind that he grew up wearing as a kid.
“You…” he starts as his eyes read Gabriella’s name on the gold plate. “She had one like this, much smaller, of course. She wore it all the time, day and night. You noticed that from the photos.”
You nod. “I hope you don’t… mind,” you whisper. “I thought… it’s something you can wear sometimes, a physical reminder of her with you.”
He nods, sliding his finger over the name.
Gabriella.
“Thank you,” he whispers. “You didn’t have to - this is real gold, it must have cost a lot.”
“Don’t worry about that, please. I’m just glad you like it. I was worried - it might be too much,” you admit.
“No, no, this is - I only have one thing of hers,” Miguel confesses. “The guitar I place on the ofrenda. It’s the only physical item left, and it was pure luck that it made it, so this… Thank you.”
You can only nod, relieved that Miguel is okay with the bracelet. He takes a few moments to look at it, lost in thought, before he finally reaches for the last item. He doesn’t know what it is but it’s a flat and long item. He peels the paper carefully, revealing an art canvas.
You notice the front is facing you, so you wait for him to turn it.
When he does, his eyes soften and fill with tears.
“Dulzura,” he says. “This is - beautiful,” Miguel says, his fingers tracing the painting. A tear slides down his cheek as he stares at the image you painted of him and Gabriella.
He’s in awe with how beautiful it is, so much he needs to take a moment. He looks away from you and closes his eyes, his chest filled with emotion. He lets a breath out, swallowing the knot in his throat and looks at the painting again.
It’s him in his Spider-Man suit, face uncovered, carrying Gabriella on his shoulders. Gaby is wearing her soccer uniform, one hand in the air while she holds her soccer ball in the other one. Based on the background, they’re, here, at the penthouse.
More tears spill from Miguel’s eyes - tears you’re tempted to wipe away. You swallow the knot that’s formed in your own throat from seeing Miguel grow so emotional, and clear your throat. In a second, you pull your sweatshirt from the bed with your web and take one of the sleeves. You lift it.
“May I…?” you ask.
Miguel’s red eyes turn to you, his tears running down his damp cheeks. He doesn’t say no or yes, so you dry his cheeks with your sleeve, gently.
“I’m sorry,” you say. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
Miguel blinks a few more tears, but a smile forms on his lips. “Someone on a rooftop once told me they’re happy tears.”
You smile and pull back, remembering the time Miguel did the same for you. You told him they were happy ones.
“Happy tears are good,” you say, nodding.
“Yeah, they are,” Miguel agrees, wiping his cheek. “Thank you - this is really - so beautiful. So, so… beautiful. Thank you.”
“Always,” you whisper.
Still holding the canvas, Miguel sniffles and extends his arm. He offers his pinky finger.
And of course, you accept the gesture with your own.
You give each other a pinky hug.
“Happy Father’s Day, Migs,” you whisper.
“Thank you,” Miguel answers, still smiling with his pinky finger wrapped around yours. "Thank you, dulzura [sweetness].”
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A/N: I have many thoughts about certain things in this chapter, hehehe
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But anyway - I made myself cry with the Father's Day part at 2am lmao
I WISH MIGUEL HAD GABY IN HIS LIFE !!!😭😭 Gonna be sad about this all day fr but anyway, I want to say thank you to the people that replied to my post from yesterday about what you'd gift Miguel for Father's Day. I did the same thing for Christmas and I really loved incorporating readers' ideas into the fic, so I figured why not do it again and they didn't disappoint!!! @lauraolar14 @only-a-universe-away @oharaslove thank you for the lovely ideas!!!!! <33333
Also one more mention for @lauraolar14 !! The hair tie scenes were based on this fan art that was inspired by a post of NC head canons of reader (I think I'm going to start calling her Dulzura from now on, lowkey) and Miguel as temporary roommates THAT I'M STILL THINKING ABOUT SGFRYEHRUH THANK YOU LAURA!! ❤️❤️ That's enough yapping from me!! I hope you guys enjoyed this one!! I cried and laughed, and hopefully you do, too (but in a good way, you know?)!!
THANK YOU!! IT MEANS SO MUCH TO ME 🫶🏼🥺<3333333 Also, I hope you guys have a great start to your week!!!
Alondra❤️
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bigfan-fanfic · 1 month
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A Delving Song (Monster!Reader x Laios Touden)
Could I request a Laios fic where he meets a new monster, your choice, that is surprisingly sentient who joins the party? I just think it would be cute and fluffy.
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Laios tilted his head. That didn't sound like the normal song the sirens on this floor of the dungeon would sing.
Marcille and Chilchuck are still asleep. And Senshi's off checking his golem farms.
So Laios wanders off towards the pool of water where you sit.
It's a ways off from typical mermaid territory.
And you yourself seem different from other mermaids. Your lower half is covered in feathers, not scales, and you have small wings protruding from your back.
"To eat is the privilege of the living... all things must eat to survive..."
Laios looks at you, in awe as you continue to sing a song of resilience and endurance. He's absolutely enchanted. And he quickly opens his mouth to sing with you once he memorizes the simple tune.
You startle badly, yelping, and waving your arms, summoning streams of waters like vipers to rise around you.
"Whoa! Please, I didn't mean any harm. I just really liked your song."
You frown. "Tallmen like you don't sing. They attack."
Laios puts down his sword. "See? No attacking."
"You're... different."
Laios grins and nods. "That's right. You see... I wanna know more about creatures like you. Are you a mermaid? You seem to be similar and different."
"I think your kind calls me a siren. But most of us get hunted, because our songs can be dangerous. We have some control over water too."
"That's incredible. Do you come up with your own songs?"
"We sing the tune - others seem to hear what they really want to hear. Unlike mermaids, the charming of it all seems to come from the prey."
"Why are you all alone?" Laios asks bluntly, tilting his head when your face falls.
"My flock were... hunted by a group of tallmen. I escaped. The mermaids don't want me because we bring adventurers that kill."
Laios frowns. "Well, that's no good. Maybe... maybe you could come with our group. I'm sure once they hear you speak and reason, they'll have no problem."
You smile sharp teeth at the tallman. "What are you called?"
"Laios."
You let the water slip down into the pool and move forward in a crouch, finally pressing your head into his metallic stomach. "Thank you, Laios."
Chilchuck is the most suspicious of you, clearly not happy with the idea of letting a monster into the party. Even a clearly reasoning and thinking one like you.
Marcille is a bit more welcoming, especially as she hopes you can teach her some of your water magic.
Laios initially thinks you're amphibious like a fishman but as you don't breathe water it becomes clear you're more of a bird than anything else.
Marcille immediately shuts down any further discussion because she senses it getting uncomfortably close to figuring out what exactly you taste like.
But considering you grew up in the dungeon, your expertise makes travel much easier. Senshi also is able to take some extra parts of monsters the party has collected to make some water skins for you to carry water through the more dry areas for you to use as a weapon.
Laios is always eager to hear about monster culture - just as you are about the cultures of the surface. Marcille and Laios spend many meal breaks discussing with you about what your lives and daily activities are like
Chilchuck doesn't share, but then again he also doesn't share with anyone else, so it's not like it's an anti-monster sentiment.
But eventually you find yourself nestling close to Laios when it's time to rest for the night.
And one night, when he rolls over and rests his head in your feathers, you don't mind. You like the tallman and his unique opinions.
And perhaps these feelings may soon grow and evolve.
Until then, the party together shall eat, and almost more than their meals, their growing friendship is delicious.
Delicious in dungeon.
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