#in my feels at 7pm on a Saturday | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

florencemtrash · 6 months

Text

Wedding Invitations

Miguel O'Hara x Reader

Summary: Y/n and Miguel take the day to distribute wedding invitations to the Spider-Gang. But in the midst of all the congratulations they forget to tell a very important member of the wedding party...

Warnings: Fluff, Spider-Gang family dynamics, Miguel's got a touch of baby fever

Author's Note: I FINALLY got around to writing this Miguel x Reader oneshot that's been in my WIP dump for ages. This can be read on its own, or as a continuation of my Hummingbird series.

Masterlist of Masterlists

________________________

You blinked around Spidey-HQ, buzzing with excitement and armed with a stack of cream-colored envelopes. The cards within had the following words printed in lacy gold lettering:

Miguel O’Hara and Y/n L/n Invite you to join their wedding celebration on Saturday, October 15, 2105 at 4:30pm St. Javier’s Cathedral 115 Hammond St

You’d visited Pavitr first, finding him tucked away in an alcove on the top floors where he went about carefully oiling his hair.

“FINALLY!” He squealed, sprinting away to wash his hands before gingerly accepting the invitation like you’d just handed him a million dollars. “You’re getting married!” He snatched one hand, then the other, splaying your fingers and searching for the ring, “Where is it? Where is it? I want to see it.”

You chuckled, “Calm down, Gollum.” You reached into your shirt, pulling out the chain where you’d been hiding the ring for the past eight months. “I don’t wear it very often. Art teacher and superhero - remember?”

It was a shame. It was a beautiful, vintage ring originally belonging to Miguel’s mother. He’d since updated it, replacing two of the missing stones with small burgundy gems that matched the color of his eyes. Even if you couldn’t wear it often, you kept it with you at all times, resting against your heart.

Pavitr began to vibrate with excitement, bouncing on his feet. “Can I-Can I tell-?”

“Yes, you can tell people.”

“Really?!” He brightened up.

“Yes. Miguel’s probably already sent out a general announcement by now.”

As if on cue both your watches beeped, a red notification popping up.

Announcement: Y/n and I are getting married. Don’t get upset if you're not invited to the ceremony. There are literally thousands of you. Reception will be at Spidey HQ atrium Saturday, October 15, 2105 at 7pm. All are welcome.

“Perfect timing.” You said, smiling at the words Y/n and I are getting married. You still couldn’t believe it, even though you’d been sitting on the knowledge in silence for the past six months.

“Oh and Pavitr. Miguel will probably ask you this again later but… would you like to be a groomsman in the wedding?”

Pavitr’s lips trembled, then broke into the widest smile imaginable, brown eyes crinkling. He surged forward, wrapping his lanky arms around you and spinning you around.

“YES! YES! A million times yes!” He gasped. You may as well have gotten on your knees and asked for his hand in marriage. “Oh my goodness this is all I've ever wanted. What are the wedding colors? I need to get a new sherwani.” He finally let you down, grabbing your shoulders and shaking you desperately, “WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME ABOUT THIS SOONER?!”

You gripped his hands, your cheeks aching from how hard you were smiling. Pavitr's energy was unmatched and you could feel his joy rubbing off on you.

“It’s really going to be a simple ceremony. And we didn’t want to pressure any of you with the typical wedding prep stuff.”

He looked incredulous, “So no bachelorette party? No-no manicure days or spa days or...”

You shook your head no and his jaw dropped.

“WRONG!” He shouted, touching the tip of your nose with his finger, “Are you free next Saturday night? Yes? Good.” He shook his finger at you, “No wedding prep stuff? Really? Pah!” He threw his hands in the air, muttering as he walked away and started dialing up Gwen and Miles.

“You told Pavitr before you told me?!” Gwen asked, mouth agape. She pushed her lunch tray to the side, the excitement chasing away her appetite for the time being.

“Fuck that. You told Pavitr before you told me?!” Miles slammed the milk carton on the table, spilling a few drops, “I thought I was your favorite.”

“Piss off, Miles.” Gwen teased, ruffling his curls. "I'm her favorite."

“One semester abroad with Hobie and you’re already sounding like a Brit.” He teased back, never moving far enough apart from her that they weren’t touching.

She’d recently gone for a shag haircut. The tips of her dyed hair fading into a pale bubblegum blue. The new nose piercing completed the look and Miles was smitten.

You wrung your hands together. “Well I’m telling you now! And! I’m asking you to be part of the wedding party. So what do you say? Wanna be a groomsman and a bridesmaid?”

They didn’t even look at each other before saying, “Absolutely!” In perfect unison.

The rest of the day went similarly, full of excited squeals and hugs and twirls. Everyone at Spidey-HQ - minus some of the newcomers - knew who you were and didn’t hesitate to shout their joy, whooping and calling out across the atrium.

“CONGRATS, TEACH!”

“LET’S GO! SPIDER-WEDDING!”

“CONGRATULATIONS!”

Hobie leaned against the window, hands shoved into the pockets of his patchwork leather jacket and flashing every color of the rainbow.

He stuck his hand out without a word, a crooked smile on his face, “I don’t believe in state-sanctioned marriage, you know. You and Miguel are already married - have been for ages in my book.”

“You rummaged around in your bag for the last of the invitations, finally locating the envelope that had slipped into one of the inner pockets and out of sight.

You hesitated, trying to hide your disappointment, “... so does that mean you’re not coming then?”

Hobie quickly snatched the invitation out of your hands, slinging his arm around your shoulder and rubbing the top of your head with his knuckles. You laughed, shoving him away and fixing the tangles he’d made in your hair.��

“Pffft, of course I’m coming. It’s important to you.” He shoved the cream-colored paper into his pockets alongside a couple posters he hadn’t found a proper place to plaster them on yet. “Don’t be ridiculous.” He smirked, “But I hope you’re not expecting me to show up in a suit.”

“Wear whatever you feel comfortable in.”

“And are you going to ask me to be a groomsman or something? Make a toast at dinner?” There was no contempt in his voice… If anything he seemed expectant. Happy.

“Actually, Miguel and I were hoping you could be the flower girl with May and Benjy.”

He brightened up, flashing a sunflower yellow and shooting off curls of newspaper print like fireworks.

“HA! I like it. I like it.” He pulled his hands out of his pockets, opening his arms wide and sighing like he was giving up on an age-old war, “Alright, get in here, girl. I wanna hug you.”

You giggled, scrunching up your nose in satisfied glee as Hobie finally gave into his softness. He liked to pretend he was cooler than everyone else in the room - and he usually was - but that didn’t stop him from also being the softest person you’d ever met.

“Congratulations.” He said, propping his head up on top of your head and mussing up your hair once again.

“Thanks, Hobie.”

You weren’t alone in spreading the news - Miguel was making his own rounds. Margo was the first one he’d told, by virtue of the fact that she was nearest to his office.

“Hey, Margo.” He said, rubbing the back of his neck. He held out the envelope, Margo’s headpiece peeling away from her sleek cornrows. Her eyes glittered purple, wide open and staring.

“Really?” She asked hesitantly, reaching out for the paper.

“Of course, Margo. You’re family. We want you there.”

Her eyes softened and she read through the invitation quietly.

“Y/n was also hoping you’d be a bridesmaid.” He tapped the additional paper sealed in her envelope. “Nothing fancy, but we wanted you at the front with everyone else. Miles, Gwen, Peter B, LEGO P-oof.”

Miguel huffed as Margo all but rammed into his chest, the edges of her flickering. Who knew virtual reality bodies were so durable and dense.

“Thanks.” She mumbled, trying to keep any emotion out of her voice.

Margo didn’t like to talk about home, preferring the VR life she led with the Spider-Society. They were her real family now… she just liked the confirmation.

“Anytime, kid.”

She cleared her throat, pushing him away as quickly as she’d hugged him. “Alright, get out of here. I’m sure everyone wants to see you right now.” She turned around, wiping at her eyes in real life. Her VR body did the same.

Miguel chuckled, rubbing his neck again. He wasn’t used to the kind of attention he’d been receiving since meeting you and learning to open up again. It was almost as if he was likable when he wasn’t acting like a complete asshole.

He was chased by compliments and congratulations all day, Spider-people stopping him to clap him on the back or to bump shoulders like they knew just how absolutely whipped he was.

Something about announcing your engagement to the world made the whole thing feel more real, like he could taste it as physically as he could taste your lips whenever he kissed you. He didn’t wear his engagement ring very often for the same reasons as you, but he slipped it on his finger halfway through the day, standing a little straighter, and looking a little prouder after doing so.

LEGO Peter was next and he’d practically swooned when Miguel had handed him his invitation between his thumb and pointer finger. He’d printed an extra-small version for him. Then he’d fainted when Miguel asked him to be a groomsman, his brick body going rigid and toppling back with the same rattle as a teacup saucer.

“I’m taking that as a yes!” Miguel called out, slipping his head back out of the portal into his own universe.

He needed to make a home visit for Jessica, but she had a champagne bottle ready to burst when Miguel appeared into her home in a crackle of color and brushstrokes.

“AHH! HA!” She tossed her head back with glee. Her mane of pitch black hair smelled like coconut and citrus. “CONGRATULATIONS! Malcolm! Malcolm, get your ass in here. Miguel’s arrived.”

Her husband slid across the living room entrance, a chubby three-year-old boy balanced on his hip and grabbing at his locs.

“Miguel!”

“Hey, Malcolm.”

“Mig!”

“Heyyyy, Jefferson.” Miguel laughed when the little boy grabbed at him, latching onto a strand of brown hair and tugging.

Jessica clicked her tongue, “Jeff, what have we talked about.”

“Sorry.” The boy apologized, patting Miguel’s head and slapping him in the face in the process.

“It’s alright, kid.”

“OOooooh. Get in here, Migs.” Jessica was grinning brighter than the sun, radiating warmth as she wound her arms around his ribs and used her strength to lift him off his feet and shake him like a rag doll.

“Careful, Jess. Can’t break the groom before his wedding.”

“Pfffft, Miguel’s not made of glass, honey.”

That much was obvious enough. Miguel had to keep his body crooked to avoid banging his head against the hanging ceiling lights.

“Congratulations, man.” Malcolm hugged him next, being notably gentler than his wife. He still slapped Miguel’s back hard enough to rattle his shoulders though.

Miguel stayed for a long while, until him and Jess had made their way through three bottles of champagne just because they could. Their bodies burned through alcohol way too quickly to get drunk - a fact that had disappointed Miles when he went off to college for the first time last year.

Jess and Malcolm leaned towards one another like sunflowers to light, with little Jefferson splashed across both their knees and struggling to stay awake as the sun pressed against the windows and turned their pale yellow walls golden.

That would be him someday, with you and your son.

The thought shook him to his core. First, because it was a secret hope that he’d never dared to even dream about and second, because it was now possible. Wonderfully, beautifully possible.

His heart began to flutter, the absence of you by his side suddenly feeling like a gaping hole instead of a subtle ache.

Jess seemed to understand that, making a show of looking at the clock and then down at her son’s open mouth drooling against Malcolm’s arm.

“We should get this little guy to bed.”

“On it.”

“I’ll head out then. Thanks for everything, Jess.”

She made a noise with her tongue, brushing off his thanks with a graceful wave of her hand. “Get out of here you big sap. And tell Y/n I said congratulations too! Actually, scratch that. I’m coming in tomorrow so I’ll tell her in person.”

Miguel chuckled, “Alright then.”

He gave a final hug to Malcolm and Jessica. Jefferson stirred in his mother’s arms just long enough to babble something that sounded adorably close to, “I’m not… I’m not sleepy. I-” before his eyes rolled back and he slumped onto Jessica’s shoulder.

You sat curled up in Miguel’s office chair, legs thrown over one of the armrests as you flipped through the pages of your book on the life of Aubrey Vincent Beardsley. Occasionally your eyes would flicker to the array of monitors, watching the careful web of universes as they flickered and morphed. Fluid, but stable, and in a perfect balance of chaos and order.

Miguel drifted into the room behind you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and peppering the curve of your neck with kisses.

“Mi amor,” He murmured. You hummed happily, tilting your head further to give him better access. “How is everything going on with you?”

“Better now that you’re here.”

“That’s a pretty great answer.” He chuckled, finishing with a quick kiss to your lips. He came around, lifting you up with ease before sitting down in his chair and placing you in his lap, “And how are things in the Spider-Verse?”

You made a self-satisfied hmph sound. Thank god he’d finally stopped calling it the Arachno-Humanoid Poly-Multiverse. What a mouthful.

“Holding strong and steady.” You flicked your fingers to the side, pulling up the latest day report that you’d already handed two hours ago, “B76’s Black Cat and 1805’s Venom were the only anomalies. Done and dusted with no issue. Reports are on file under Project Catalyst.”

“Perfect.”

Miguel stretched comfortably, curling in on you and resting his head on your chest like the world’s most luxurious cat.

You snorted, blinking your book away with a snap of your fingers and running your fingers through his hair just the way he liked. He groaned softly when you lightly dragged your fingernails against his scalp.

“Right there, babe.” He encouraged, sighing with contentment.

You stayed like that for a long while, one of Miguel’s arms wrapped around your waist and his other hand snaking up your stomach to rub circles against your smooth skin. Unbeknownst to you, he was quietly thinking about what it might be like if you ever decided to have kids. If one day he’d be so lucky to lay like this against you and quietly talk to the little child growing in your stomach.

He shook his head, he was getting ahead of himself.

“Everything ok, Migs?” You curled your finger beneath his chin, gently tilting his face up to look at you. His eyes softened.

“Yeah. Everything’s perfect.”

You couldn’t help it, you blushed under the softness of his gaze. It was strange how you could get into hundreds of fist-fights, get knocked on your ass dozens of times over, and yet crumble at the sight of his auburn eyes. You didn’t mind the vulnerability though - you knew Miguel felt the same.

You looked down at his hands, noticing the flash of silver on his finger.

"You wore it today?"

He smiled when you took his hand in yours, kissing his palm, "Felt appropriate."

You tugged the necklace out from under your shirt, carefully slipping the ring off the chain. Miguel took it wordlessly from you, gently kissing your hand before sliding the ring onto your finger. It was warm to the touch after hours pressed against your heart and Miguel felt a surge of love flood his chest seeing you wear it.

“Busy day, huh?” You asked when he settled back down, holding your hand tightly in his.

He groaned, “You could say that. I don’t think I’ve ever had so many people talk to me in my life.”

You prodded him in the side, “That’s not saying very much.”

“Ouch.” He grinned, kissing your chest.

“Did everyone say yes to joining the wedding party?”

“Yes. You?”

“Yup.” Your lips popped on the end of the word.

Miguel grinned wide and unabashedly leaning closer to you, “Then we got ourselves a wedding,” he said, smiling against your lips. He tasted like coffee and cinnamon.

You chuckled, “Maybe we shouldn’t have sprung this on them so soon.”

Miguel shrugged, “We needed to tell them at some point, cariño. And it’s not like we’re doing all the extra stuff. They just need to show up to the church at this point.”

“I know that. But Pavitr seemed to disagree. Apparently I'm going to have a bachelorette party next weekend.”

He pouted, “No party for me?! I’m hurt.”

“Peter didn’t bring it up with you? I thought he'd be over the moon about being Best Man.”

Miguel’s head shot up, thick brows furrowing in confusion beneath a bed of ruffled curls, “I thought you were going to tell Peter.”

You tipped your head to the side, “I thought you were going to tell to Peter?”

“Yeah, LEGO Peter.”

Silence, thick and full of horror fell over both of you.

“Did… did neither of us tell Peter and MJ?” You whispered.

Miguel closed his eyes, his face plummeting into the soft skin of your chest, “Fuuuuuuuuuck.”

The double doors to Miguel’s office slid open with a groan of disappointment. Peter stood there with his legs splayed, carving out a disgruntled shape in his signature pink bathrobe that he never took off, especially with the new addition to his family.

Mayday clung to her father’s chest, her brother’s chestnut mop poking out from behind Peter’s shoulder. Benjy’s grin was gummy and wide and he wore matching noise-canceling headphones with his sister.

“Fuck.” You repeated, your face falling flat.

MJ leaned against the doorway and rubbed her temples with one hand, shoulders shaking with repressed laughter as Peter stalked forward, absolutely livid.

“You MOTHERFUCK—

*cut scene*

*Alexa, play 'Blitzkrieg Bop' by The Ramones*

____________________

Author's note (again!):

Just some funny gifs I thought were appropriate for the characters:

Peter storming into the room because his best friends forgot to tell him about their engagement:

Pavitr learning he's going to be part of the wedding party:

LEGO Peter learning he's going to be part of the wedding party:

Hope you guys enjoyed!

Love,

Florence B.

#miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x reader #atsv x reader #miguel o'hara x wife reader #Spider-gang #found family #Hummingbird #miles morales #gwen stacy #peter b parker #hobie brown #across the spider verse

337 notes · View notes

hollytoshaw · 3 months

Text

wedding weekend | harry lewis

summary: y/n & harry tie the knot

face claim: dua lipa (barely tho lol)

a/n: hi!!! this is a anon request i got earlier. super cute so hope you all love it! please keep sending requests in i have no idea what to make next lol. also love love love all the support thank you!

more stuff by me : masterlist

harry and y/n together with their families invite you to their wedding celebration! saturday june 22nd at 7pm. location : finca la concepcion, marbella.

y/n_username posted a photo!

liked by wroetoshaw & 540,204 others! y/n_username wedding rehearsal before the luckiest day of harry's life & the worst of mine xoxo tagged: wroetoshaw

taliamar the most beautiful bride to be ever 😍

freyanightingale i'm in love with your face???

wroetoshaw not too late to cancel you muppet ↳ y/n_username odds on?

r0sielewis you gorgeous girl

faithlouiseak so gorg babe

geenelly so fit 🔥🔥🔥

sidemanxfan lmao so true harry's lucky he bagged y/n as a wife

harryxlewisfan bet harry was drunk at the rehearsal ↳ y/n_username on his best behaviour for once

miaxmon can i marry you instead? 💍 ↳ y/n_username yes

w2slover this is my royal wedding

ynharryfan mum and dad's big day has nearly come omg

calfreezy posted an instagram story! tobjizzle posted an instagram story!

chrismd10 posted a photo!

liked by ksi and 520,320 others! chrismd10 drowning my sorrows because my guernsey boy is finally married tagged wroetoshaw & y/n_username

y/n_username you can have him back he's doing my nut in already

wroetoshaw always in my heart

chrisdixonfan LMAO the jersey x guernsey bromance will never die 🥹🥹🥹

calfreezy has posted a photo!

liked by callux and 510,560 others! calfreezy celebrating my two best mates getting married! best weekend of the year by far tagged wroetoshaw, y/n_username, miniminter, randolphuk, zerkaa

zerkaa drippiest wedding guests

y/n_username 💙💙💙

miniminter blue suit going craaaaazy

randolphuk gutted you didn't include the pic of harry & y/n drunk an hour into their reception ↳ calfreezy she'd want me dead ↳ y/n_username you would've been a dead man

theobaker_ posted a photo!

liked by theburntchip and 230,120 others! theobaker_ marbella madness with the boys! congratulations to harry and y/n! ❤️ tagged wroetoshaw, y/n_username, reevhd, willne, chrismd10

chrismd10 i am much taller than this irl ↳ reevhd keep telling yourself that lad

theburntchip can't believe bog got married before you managed to lose your virginity ↳ theobaker_ not funny

proddyc lovely pics theo!

willne couple of distinguished gentlemen

faithlouiseak posted a photo!

liked by behzingagram and 203,103 others! faithlouiseak such an honour to be a bridesmaid at my best friends wedding! congratulations to harry & y/n, love you both so much!! also look how cute my little olive was as her godparent's flower girl!!! 🥺🤍 tagged taliamar, freyanightingale, y/n_username

behzingagram my girl olive 🫒

y/n_username the BEST BRIDESMAIDS ever @taliamar @freyanightingale @faithlouiseak

y/n_username i love you so much

y/n_username and little olive!!! 🥺🥹

y/n_username posted a photo!

liked by wroetoshaw and 602,029 others! y/n_username 22nd of june. the happiest day of my life. the day i got to marry my best friend. i'm so proud to call you my husband and i cannot wait to grow old together with you. i love you to the moon and back, my boy. p.s you looked so fit in that suit 🤍

tagged wroetoshaw

freyanightingale so flipping cute

wroetoshaw you soppy bastard ❤️

faithlouiseak love you both!!!

ynw2slove MUM AND DAD

sidemanxixfan omg i feel so old

ksi congratulations you two!

taliamar best day ever 😘

callux sickest wedding i've ever been to

r0sielewis you're finally a lewis!!!!! ❤️😭

ynfan2024 cannot believe y/n has married w2s

vikkstagram beautiful couple!!

zerkaa the baby of the sidemen is wifed off i feel old ↳ behzingagram you are old lad

As the moon cast its gentle glow upon the room, Harry and Y/n found themselves sprawled across the bed, their laughter echoing in the hair. The balcony doors were wide open with the Spanish heat blowing in and the sound of the waves crashing on the beach filled the room - finally a bit of piece for the pair.

Y/N proped herself up on one elbow, gazing at her dreamy husband with a lopsided smile.

''Harry.'' she began, her words slurred from all the champagne she had drank, ''that was the most perfect day, wasn't it?''

Harry turned to her, pulling at his tie to loosen it (he hated wearing suits). Y/N's eyes shone with affection as she watched him do so, ''One of the best days of my life, I think.''

''One of?'' Y/N snickered, swatting him gently with her hand.

''Well yeah - nothing's going to beat my crossbar challenge with Ronaldo is it,'' he joked, earning another playful hit from his wife.

''Oh shut up you.''

''Only messing,'' he said, pushing a stray hair that had fallen from Y/N's once pristine wedding up do. ''It was the best.''

Y/N's cheeks flushed with warmth. ''It really was, wasnt it?'' she paused, ''And you... you looked so fit in your suit. I couldn't take my eyes off you the whole day.''

And it was true, Harry looked so good at the wedding reception. His cheeks flushed from too much alcohol. Undone cufflinks and rolled up sleeves - Y/N was just in love with this man.

Harry laughed smugly. He loved when she would shower him with compliments. He'd never get over having the fittest woman in the world in his eyes, gush over him 24/7.

''Well, you, were the best looking bride I've ever seen in my life.''

They shared a tender smile, hearts overflowing with love. The memories of their special day were so fresh and danced through their minds. It was a day that would be etched in their hearts forever. Harry seeing Y/N in her dress for the first time, his eyes watering at the sight and Y/N fumbling with her bouquet as she laid eyes on the most handsome man in a black suit she'd ever seen.

''I'm so glad we're finally married,'' Y/N whispered, reaching out to intertwine their hands. ''Just feels like a dream come true.''

''I know, doll.'' Harry replied, squeezing her hand gently. ''Been waiting for this moment since the first time I laid eyes on you.''

With a contented sigh, they settled back onto the bed, their fingers still intertwined. As sleep began to claim them, they whispered words of love and gratitude, their hearts overflowing with happiness.

For Harry and Y/N, their wedding night was just the beginning of a lifetime of love, laughter, and cherished moments together. And as they drifted off to sleep, they knew that their love would only grow stronger with each passing day, lighting up the darkness and guiding them home to each other's arms.

y/n_username posted an instagram story!

story replies to y/n_username:

↳ wroetoshaw fittest wife ever liked by y/n_username

W2S+ uploaded a youtube video!

a/n: thank you so much for reading! bit of a short one but hope you all enjoyed it nonetheless.

#w2s #wroetoshaw #w2s x reader #harry wroetoshaw #harry lewis #harry w2s #sidemen #w2s fic #w2s imagine #wroetoshaw imagine #wroetoshaw oneshot #hollytoshaw #chris md #arthurtv #sidemen x reader

199 notes · View notes

leafofkudzu · 2 months

Text

Slightly delayed post compared to usual, but hi hello and happy Spring, everyone! I hope the past month has treated you well, because the first Saturday of a new month is coming up real fast, meaning it's time for another art party hosted by my guild, [VS] Verdant Shield!

For those who aren’t familiar with art parties, they’re a concept carried over from Final Fantasy XIV - in-game get-togethers for artists/writers/creatives of all types to hang out, chat, and create together! Get your favorite character/look together, head to the location, find someone that catches your eye, and create! Afterwards, everyone posts their creations in a shared tag (ours is #VSArtParty) so others can see, interact, and share! Tl;dr: the ‘goal’ of an art party isn’t to be drawn, but to draw others, and share with the community!

Time and /squadjoin information is under the cut, but will also be posted again via reblogs as the squads go up on the day of the party!

Location Information:

While scouting out more Ascalon-aligned locations to even out the spread, I remembered this little corner of Fields of Ruin. It houses a grave of one of the characters from the Ghosts of Ascalon novel - and for trivia purposes, everyone who's done Icebrood Saga has met another character from that novel: Ember Doomforge! But this isn't about Ember, it's about Killeen, and her lovely little resting place protected from the Brand. It's very easily accessible just by scooting up the marked path from Tenaebron Waypoint, which is in itself up in the Northwest corner of Fields of Ruin!

Time & Squad Details:

As we always do, we’ll be having two parties - one on EU servers and one on NA ones - with an hour break in between. People tend to arrive early and/or jump between accounts as soon as the break comes up, so don’t be surprised to see tags and announcements going up ahead of schedule!

The first party will be on EU servers and begin at 9pm Central European Summer Time (aka 3pm Eastern Daylight Time or 5 hours before in-game reset). I’ll be hosting on my EU alt account, so to join either /squadjoin or whisper Ashelin Falstaff for an invite.

The second party will be on NA servers and begin at 7pm Eastern Daylight Time (aka 1am Central European Summer Time or an hour before in-game reset). I’ll be hosting this one on my main account, so to join either /squadjoin or whisper Beldahvia for an invite.

Closing Words:

My apologies yet again for a) being delayed in posting this, but also b) posting this in the dead of (NA) night - I've been a bit sick the past week and lost track of time, but we're here now! I do feel like a broke record every time I say this, but thank you to everyone who turns out to these events - you guys are what make everything so memorable and fun! Have a good rest of your week, and I hope to see you all there on Saturday! ♥

#yelling it's past 12am but i must post it before i go to sleep and forget #i'll reblog this tomorrow at a normal time too aaaaa #gw2 #guild wars 2 #vsartparty #obnoxious tourist simulator #📢🎨

133 notes · View notes

satorisoup · 4 months

Text

TAKE A SEAT .ᐟ ft. suguru geto

CW : slightly suggestive? (no nsfw). aged up. pet names (doll). clubbing. men are nasty and geto just wants to protect you *sobs*.

everyone knows satoru gojo would be the possessive type of man. it’s a known fact that he gets jealous, wanting you all to himself.

however, no one ever takes into account his best friend, geto. they would never peg him as possessive, being the gentle, caring man he is. but boy, are they wrong, because suguru geto beats gojo by 10 miles when it comes to making sure you’re his, and only his.

it’s 7pm on a saturday night, and the club is bustling with patrons like a zoo. the bartop is almost full, and the dance floor is waving with parades of drunkened movements and hiccupy giggles. men and women combined in a hot, crowded building to let off some steam and practically paw at eachother like feral animals with no shame.

suguru wishes this club was empty.

you, in that pretty little black dress that hugs you in all of the right places, riding at just below your thighs, feet clad in a new pair of sparkly high heels that geto had bought you recently “just because”.

he finds it rather astonishing that you don’t seem to notice, or maybe rather ignore, the stares that are sent your way. filthy men who ogle you up and down with no remorse, dusty pink cheeks from the alcohol in their system and grimy smirks that are all too unpleasing.

he can’t help but feel a little bad, as all you were doing was standing there trying to order a drink, your entire hand holding two of his large fingers as a way to not lose him.

why are people so incredibly vulgar?

he doesn’t care to upset you by saying something, and he doesn’t feel that he should take you home. you were looking forward to coming here with him all night long, excited rambles flowing from your mouth the entire car ride here. you’re precious self got all dressed up, dainty and beautiful just for him. he should be appreciating it to the fullest, so he decides to keep quiet, and allow the night to go on.

you’re on the dance floor now, smiling and swaying to your hearts content while geto keeps a hand on your waist, faces close and eyes that wander across yours. this moment is truly a sight for sore eyes to witness, and he wouldn’t want to trade it for anything, because seeing you happy is all he needs before a breath of air.

but all he needs now, is for these men to back up and away from you. they’re far too close for comfort, orbs of a nasty gaze that follow you as if you’re prey to be devoured, and they’re just waiting for the right time to pounce. geto has been ignoring it for you, yes, but it’s when he catches a slow, not so subtle brush of a hand against the plump skin of your bottom, geto finally snaps.

you’re guided with geto’s hand by the small of your back to a corner of the club, a table with cushioned booths in view. geto’s sitting down before you’re able to utter a word. he looks to you with a piercing gaze, eyes locked with yours. he speaks up with words of sultry and tone divine,

“be a good girl f’me and sit on my lap,” he pats his thigh, hands reaching for your waist with soft fingers grazing the plush of your hips. his touch is merciful, innocent, and kind, but his words reap a practical demand leaking of pure pride,

“wanna display you as mine like the pretty doll you are.”

303 notes · View notes

greensagephase · 6 months

Text

Blanca Navidad (Nonviolent Communication Christmas One-Shot)

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x SpiderFemaleReader (colleagues to friends to lovers; currently in the friendship era, so no romance.) Summary: Christmas Eve at Miguel's. Word Count: 11,928 (someone come take my laptop from my hands) Warnings: Mention of injuries and near death experience (from the past). Some Spanish included but translations can be found at the end. Lots of Mexican/Latin food mentioned; you can find some of those items in this reference guide. Short A/N: This is a one-shot for my Nonviolent Communication fanfic but can be read as a standalone. Masterlist Songs inspo: "Last Christmas" - Wham! "Blanca Navidad" - Matisse, Ha*Ash "Noche de Paz" - Reik

Merry Christmas to those who celebrate! 🎄

You repeatedly offered to host dinner at your place. It was only fair, you thought, especially after Miguel hosted Thanksgiving at his place but he refused. Each time. The only thing he asked of you was some dessert because apparently he really loves your baking, so that’s what you arrive with to his penthouse on Christmas Eve. It’s 7pm when you step out of the multidimensional portal and into Miguel’s living room. You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve been here now; how many times you’ve stepped into the space and hung out on his couches and talked with him over café de olla and pan dulce about anything and everything.

You glance at the fireplace as you hold on to your bag with baked desserts. Miguel’s penthouse is warm and cozy, a sharp contrast with the cold and freezing temperatures outside. You take a quick glance behind you to look out the windows. It’s supposed to snow at some point during the night and of course, the children and some adults were all excited about a white Christmas, or at least they seem so this morning when you did your morning patrol across your city. Your thoughts are interrupted when you hear steps, Miguel’s, coming from what you assume is the kitchen and dining area of his penthouse. You turn back and there he is. Once again, he’s wearing his apron since he’s cooking. He looks cozy and comfortable in a grey cable knit sweater, with the sleeves folded neatly up his forearms, and his dark pants. You notice his hair looks damp, which for some reason reminds you of the times you helped him showered so many months ago due to his injuries during a mission. Your free hand curls into a soft fist as you recall how his hair felt. You smile at him as he enters the living room.

“Hey, Merry Christmas Eve!” you greet him softly.

“Merry Christmas Eve,” he repeats with a soft smile as he approaches you. “Here, let me get that for you.”

You don’t decline or refuse his help, even though you don’t need it, when he motions for the bag with baked desserts. You’re learning to accept that Miguel is a gentleman no matter what, so you lift your bag for him to take.

“The food is ready, so we can go ahead and have dinner if you want,” he says with a soft grin, motioning for you to follow him into the kitchen, carrying your bag.

The scent of food engulfs you as you enter the kitchen behind Miguel, making you excited about the food. As you follow Miguel, you notice his Christmas tree is still up. You noticed it earlier this month when you came over for dinner on a Saturday. The sight was a nice surprise that day and even now, as it gives you hope that Miguel feels the holiday spirit this year.

Miguel sets your bag on the counter, careful to avoid messing anything up before he takes a glance at you. He noticed as soon as he saw you wearing a coat, reminding him that you were in Miles’s universe earlier. Mr. and Mrs. Morales invited the whole gang, including Miguel, to their annual Christmas Eve building party but much like last year, Miguel politely declined the invitation. Many things have happened over the year, the most important being Miguel starting his healing journey. He’s taken steps in the right direction, perhaps small ones, but they’re all significant to Miguel. Yet, when he was approached by Miles once again about the Christmas Eve party, he still couldn’t say yes to the invitation.

He’s tried more with the group over the last months but it’s still something he needs to work on. Besides, Miguel could already imagine the questioning of some guests. It would be too much for him. However, that didn’t mean that he wasn’t open to this. To dinner with you for Christmas Eve. He asked you a week later after Thanksgiving about your plans, wanting to plan better than he did for that dinner, especially because he knew you were likely invited to Miles’s building Christmas Eve party again. So, he asked you and you happily agreed to having dinner together. Except when you started talking about what you could cook, Miguel told you he was hosting and he shot down all your attempts, only asking for dessert, if you wanted. You wanted to make it even since he cooked for Thanksgiving but Miguel didn’t want you to stress out about cooking, considering you were invited to Miles’s universe. He didn’t want you to stress out over it or end up missing the party to cook, and besides, Miguel loves cooking and sharing food from his background with you. So, it was better this way for him. Miguel gestures to your coat now, a sign that you were at Miles’s universe a little while ago, if not minutes ago, out in the cold.

“May I?” he asks.

You look at yourself and realize. “Oh, my coat.” You smile at him and nod before he walks around you and helps you out of it. You thank him as he hangs your coat over a chair gently. “Oh, the Morales wish you a Merry Christmas and they sent food.”

Miguel nods, smiling softly as he watches you begin to unpack your bag. You set out the plates the Morales’s prepared, reminding you of last year when they sent you to drop off food for Miguel because they didn’t want him to spend Christmas Eve on his own.

“The fried plantains are to die for,” you tell him as you set down what you baked.

“I can imagine. Last year’s were great,” Miguel says quietly, remembering last Christmas Eve and feeling in awe that a whole year has passed already. Everything was so different then, he thinks. Last year, you were only supposed to drop the food off but you ended up staying until midnight. This year, however, you left the party early to join him for dinner. This year it was planned for you to come. Miguel smiles to himself. So much has changed. He clears his throat softly. “I will certainly eat some of that in a bit, especially the fried plantains. Do you want to have dinner now?” he asks. “Or, maybe you ate at the party and you’re not too hungry yet.”

“I’d love to have dinner. I didn’t eat much so I could save some space for dinner. I’m not missing out on anything,” you say with a soft chuckle that makes Miguel grin since he knows you like his cooking, something that pleases him a lot.

“Great, then we can start. I made some tinga since I know you love it,” he says as he gets into full host mode. “Go ahead and take a seat, make yourself comfortable.” Miguel walks around his kitchen island to the stove where he has multiple pots and pans of food, and possibly drinks like last year. “We can have it with burritos or with tostadas, whichever you like. There’s also…” Miguel continues, listing everything he has cooked, once again surprising you with his wide menu.

You listen intently, with a smile, as Miguel tells you about the pozole.

“I couldn’t decide, so I made a bit of both red and green. I think last year I made green, so hopefully you like the red one.”

You tell him you’re sure you will, considering everything he cooks is amazing. He goes on to tell you about the tamales and how he made different ones this year, too.

“There’s some with rajas de chile poblano and queso fresco. These are really good. And then, there’s the sweet ones. These were my favorite growing up,” Miguel tells you as he shows you small, pink tamales with dark spots here and there that indicate small bits from cinnamon sticks to sweeten the dough.

“Those would go very well with café de olla,” you tell him, which makes him grin.

“I thought you’d think so,” he replies before he taps a pot’s lid. “Café de olla right here.”

You grin back.

“Then, there’s some ponche and I made champurrado. I think - you might like it,” he says.

“If possible, I’m trying everything,” you tell him with a soft smile, which makes Miguel smile back.

“Well, no pressure but please feel welcome to. I hope you like it,” he says turning fully around to face you. “I forgot, there’s also buñuelos. So… what would you like to have first?” he asks, having a feeling that he knows what you’re going to go first for.

You stare at Miguel, knowing exactly what you’d like to eat first. “Maybe it’s surprising or not too surprising, but may I please have some burritos de tinga?”

Miguel chuckles. “Ya lo sabia. I had a feeling that was going to be your choice.”

You shrug with a little smile. “You tell me there’s burritos de tinga, I’m gonna go for that. It’s your fault I love them so much.”

Miguel shakes his head at you, amused. He grabs the flour tortillas from one of his counters and sets a pan to heat them up. “I’m glad you like them so much,” he says, truly meaning it. He’s cooked this dish for you a few times over the months ever since the two of you started to have dinner together every Saturday when it’s his turn to host. You tried it last Christmas Eve after he asked if you wanted to join him for dinner right on the spot when you dropped off the food the Morales family sent him. Come to think of it, Miguel realizes that was the very first time he ever invited you for dinner.

He had no plans to cook or to even be home. He had the opportunity to spend one Christmas with Gabriella and it was the first time he had celebrated in years after Gabriel’s death. After everything that happened with Gabriella and her universe and the events surrounding Miles, the last thing Miguel wanted to do was celebrate. He thought he’d spend the day at HQ like any other day, even if the building was vacant since everyone was off for the holidays. He tries to remember now, what was it that made him leave HQ and gave him the motivation to cook a bit of everything? He reasons now that it was probably nostalgia from those childhood days.

The holidays were always decent in the O’Hara household since those were rare days when his parents weren’t arguing or acting up. Those were also days in which Conchata treated him like a mother should. She spoiled Gabriel and him with sweet food like Mexican hot chocolate, buñuelos, and sweet tamales; even letting them add the food coloring to make the tamales colorful. Perhaps, it was those memories that made Miguel leave HQ last year. Either way, he hadn’t expected to be home. He had no decorations up, nor expected anyone but then there was Lyla, popping out of nowhere as he was finishing showering, while the last of the food was cooking, to tell him that you were looking for him because you had food from the Morales family. Before he knew it, he was inviting you to join him for dinner and you did, and Miguel enjoyed it.

“Do you want agua de Jamaica?” he asks, pausing his thoughts for now.

“Yes, I’d love some. I can get that for us, while you look after the tortillas,” you offer, standing up even though Miguel shakes his head. “I know you’re the host but you don’t have to do everything. You already cooked - I imagine for hours. Please, it’s the least I can do,” you tell him and he begrudgingly nods.

“Alright, if you wish to,” he says, which makes you smile as you reach for glasses from his cupboards since you know your way around his kitchen all too well, much like he knows his way around yours. You notice his pouting as he flips the tortillas, with bare hands as always, and hold back from chuckling. You walk to his fridge to retrieve the pitcher with agua de Jamaica, finding it endearing that Miguel insists on doing everything when he hosts. He tries to help even on the weekends when it’s your turn, always offering his help one way or another, and of course, you always decline but that doesn’t stop him from offering his help anyway.

You set the glasses and pitcher on the counter and walk towards him, standing a few feet away to give him space.

“May I help with something else?”

He shakes his head, meeting your gaze. “You’re my guest, Y/N. Please go ahead and take a seat. I’ll have your burritos ready in a minute or two.”

Your shoulders slump dramatically. “Really?”

Miguel’s eyebrow raises gently. “Really.”

You hum in response and walk away, defeated. With a sigh, you take a seat and now you pout but it’s quickly replaced with a grin when Lyla appears before you.

“Merry Christmas Eve, Y/N!” she says throwing her arms in the air in a cheery tone, making her santa hat move around dramatically.

“Merry Christmas Eve, Lyla.”

“I see you’ve been prohibited from the kitchen.”

You chuckle softly.

“I heard that, Lyla,” Miguel says, looking over his shoulder with a glare that Lyla dismisses.

“Merry Christmas Eve to you, too, boss,” she retorts with a roll of her eyes. “How about some music? Something for the Christmas spirit? I prepared a playlist just for this.”

“Oh, really? You have the classics, I assume,” you tell her.

“Definitely. Some are Miguel’s favorites. Or used to. I don’t know. It has some of my favorites for sure.”

“Like…?” you ask.

“You know…” Lyla shrugs. “Like ‘Last Christmas’ by Wham!”

“Oh, a classic,” you reply with a smile, approving.

“I knew you’d understand me. Let’s put it on,” she says and of course, the music immediately fills the air thanks to Miguel’s amazing sound system.

You nod in appreciation. “Nice choice, Lyla.”

“Thank you! It feels good to be appreciated for my music taste. Some people don’t like it.”

“That’s because you blast it at full volume with no warning,” Miguel replies grumpily, as he reaches the counter with two plates with food.

Lyla shrugs again. “It doesn’t sound too loud to me.”

“The burritos are ready, Y/N. Let me get the toppings,” Miguel says, deciding to ignore Lyla.

“Thank you,” you reply softly as he places the plate in front of you.

“Always,” he answers as he serves agua de Jamaica for the two of you.

“Ooh, should we see Miguel’s official holiday card? I look good in it,” Lyla says immediately displaying the holiday card every Spider Society member received before either you or Miguel can even respond.

Miguel groans quietly as he takes a seat. “Lyla, put that away.”

“I’m just showing Y/N. Look at my outfit. I look good in the card,” she replies with a grin.

You chuckle quietly as you stare at it, remembering Miguel’s mood since you were there. He didn’t want his picture to be taken but Jess, Peter B., and Lyla said he had to as he’s the leader and founder of the Spider Society. Despite Miguel’s protests, Peter B. and Mayday somehow managed to slip on a santa hat to his head, catching Miguel by surprise. He glared at Peter B., who was next to Jess in a flash, urging her to take the photo before Miguel took it off, and of course, Jess was quick to snap a photo. Now, everyone has a holiday card with Miguel glaring at the camera in his full suit with a santa hat while Lyla floats above his head, happy as can be.

“And there’s this one, too. Come to think of it, we should’ve used this one,” Lyla says, displaying a photo of Miguel, still wearing the santa hat but showing his face now, and you standing nearby showing him your progress on the society’s weekly reports. You notice the difference on Miguel. His glare from the official holiday card is replaced with a relaxed face and a small smile directed at you.

Miguel stares at it, noticing the difference, too, which makes his cheeks feel slightly hot, or maybe it’s just the heat from the food and the stove, he doesn’t know.

“Aww, I’ll let you two have dinner now, Merry Christmas Eve!” Lyla says with a smirk before she disappears, leaving Miguel and you alone with the Christmas music still playing in the background.

You grin softly and shake your head. “She really does get in a mood with the holidays,” you say as you add toppings to your plate.

“She does. She’s already too much sometimes and with the holidays…” Miguel scoffs in disbelief yet also in a playful way. “Even more but anyway - how was the party?” he asks softly as you pass him the toppings.

“It was great. There was more of Miles’s family this year, so we had to keep introducing ourselves to them. I think some of them thought it was weird Miles invited his school mentor,” you say with a grin. “That’s me.”

Miguel chuckles. “You’re the school mentor - I can see that.”

You raise an eyebrow, smiling and thinking. “Who would you be?”

Miguel turns to you, thinking. “I don’t know.”

“Hm… we’ll have to think about that,” you reply before you take a drink of agua de Jamaica.

Miguel grins, thinking that if he had gone to the party, he would’ve simply said that he was the school mentor’s close friend but saying that would mean stating out loud that you’re his friend. Despite the months, and the healing Miguel has done this year, his fear that something will happen to you still exists inside of him. He doesn’t want to jinx losing you - his close friend - by saying it out loud, directly. He’s alluded to it so many times in different ways to tell you how he feels. You’re his close friend. Yet, he hasn’t said those words specifically. Not yet anyway, but Miguel is certain one day, he will. Could it be next year? Or the following one? Miguel doesn’t know but he knows he will one day. For now, he says and acts on it however he can, whenever he can, in his own way.

“This is - as always - amazing,” you say with a soft sigh after having the first bite of a burrito. “I can never tire of this.”

Miguel smiles, amused yet happy with your reaction. He doesn’t know why, but it always pleases him to see how much you enjoy his cooking. He loves seeing that delighted look on your face when you eat what he cooks.

The two of you move through the other food, trying all the tamales, minus the sweet ones because you decided to save those for the dessert part. Miguel is once again, pleased when he sees you love the tamales with rajas and queso fresco. Pozole is last, and of course, you try the other kind he made.

“Which one is your favorite?” you ask him. “Red or green?”

Miguel thinks about it for a few seconds as he gently wipes his mouth with a napkin. “I think - green. What about yours?”

“I think green is my favorite, too.”

You grin at each other before you continue eating from your bowls. All the while, the two of you talk about the last few days and how everyone at HQ was excited for the holidays. Even members with few or no family, like yourself and Miguel, had plans with other members. The two of you talk about that, and how wonderful it is that the Spider Society has led to friendships so deep they feel like family. The two of you leave it at that, not wanting to dampen the mood with sadness of loved ones long gone though both of you think about your deceased loved ones anyway.

At last, Miguel brings a plate stacked with sweet, pink tamales. He sets it on the counter so the two of you can just grab from it instead of having to walk back and forth. He also brings along a plate with buñuelos, and of course, there’s the desserts you brought along, too.

“You want ponche, champurrado, or café de olla?” Miguel asks.

“I think - I’m going to leave the café de olla for last, if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. So, ponche or champurrado… Or both?” he asks, a little amused. Noting your indecisiveness, Miguel adds, “I’m grabbing both.”

You grin. “Both for me, too, then. May I help you?”

“No,” Miguel says softly, shaking his head at you before he turns around to prep everything. “Thank you but no. You’re my guest.”

You sigh, knowing there’s no arguing. “Just let me know if I can help. I don’t mind, Miguel.”

“I know you don’t,” he replies softly with a smile as he grabs the mugs. “But please - let me do this.” He turns around, holding two mugs in each hand perfectly. He doesn’t need to say anything else for you know what he’s saying. He’s trying to move forward. He’s trying to show you his appreciation and caring for you. He’s trying to express what you mean to him in his own ways, even if it’s just him merely serving you food or a drink and taking it to you. He’s trying in his own way until he can say it out loud.

You nod and smile softly.

Satisfied with your reaction, Miguel turns around and proceeds to serve the drinks. You grin as upbeat holiday music continues to play. It seems that Lyla’s playlist is quite long and diverse since you recognize Mexican Christmas music. You listen intently to it, while Miguel fixes the drinks until he approaches the kitchen island with your two mugs. He places them carefully in front of you before he retrieves his, joining your side once again. You can’t help but think about how the two of you have sat in these same chairs ever since… exactly a year ago, almost as if you have unassigned assigned seats. You smile as you come to this realization, finding it endearing in a way but also realizing just how much has changed in a year.

One year ago, you were in Miles’s universe when Mr. and Mrs. Morales approached you, asking if you could take food to Miguel and stay with him while he ate so he wouldn’t be alone on Christmas Eve. You agreed because the Morales family has taken you in as part of their family, inviting you over to dinner and their gatherings but also because you had thought about the same thing. You didn’t like the idea of Miguel alone over the holidays even though your friendship was barely beginning. You had shared some moments with each other at that point like your celebration of Peter’s birthday and Miguel letting you see his ofrenda on Dia de Los Muertos. Miguel was barely beginning to open up and you knew it was too soon to ask him anything about the holidays but then, there were Miles’s parents, asking you for this favor. And you couldn’t say no.

You look over at Miguel as he brings one of the mugs to his mouth, blowing softly on it to cool off. You smile and grab one of your own, opting for the ponche first as you continue to remember last year. You were so nervous about it even though you agreed to it and wished that Miguel hadn’t spent the entire day alone. You guessed he was going to be at HQ like always, since you knew that he worked around the clock but to your surprise, he was here at home. You almost chuckle to yourself as you now remember standing in a dark and empty alleyway in Miles’s universe talking to Lyla, asking her about Miguel’s location to meet and give him the food. It was how you learned he was here. You remember Lyla giving you a hard time back then when you asked her if she could ask Miguel to meet you at HQ since he was home. You didn’t know where he lived back then and besides, you didn��t want to intrude on Miguel’s privacy nor make Miguel feel like you wanted to know where he lived but Lyla, who for some reason was busy at the time, told you she’d ask if you could simply come over, telling you that she’d give you the coordinates if Miguel agreed.

Then, you swear it took less than thirty seconds before the coordinates were on your gizmo, ready for you to travel directly to Miguel’s home, and that’s how you first entered his home a year ago, with plates of food in your hands, and party favors and cans of soda in your coat’s pockets, feeling cold from being outside to suddenly surrounded by warmth from Miguel’s penthouse. And of course, there was Miguel suddenly, standing in his universe’s fashion instead of the suit like he used to back then. It was the first time you ever saw him out of the suit. Now, the sight of him in normal attire is a familiar one. A lot has really changed since that night a year ago.

You turn to Miguel’s holographic Christmas tree, smiling. Last year he didn't have one when you arrived but he showed it to you afterward and told you all about them and how people in Nueva York design holographic ornaments as a tradition, though traditional trees are still a thing in some homes when they can be afforded. Miguel even showed you how to design ornaments before he had you design one.

“You want to look at it?” Miguel asks, noticing your gaze on it.

You turn to meet his gaze, still smiling and nod. “Sure.”

He nods with a soft grin and stands up, thinking to himself about how he actually put his tree up earlier this month. Last year he had no plans nor did he feel the festivities to put up his tree until Christmas Eve when you got here.

The two of you walk over to it, holding your mugs in hand before you stop in front of it.

You admire the tree, still in awe even a year later with the difference. In your universe, traditional Christmas trees are still the norm. Smiling, your eyes catch certain ornaments you didn’t see the previous year. You tell yourself you probably just missed them but you’re certain you would’ve remember seeing the ornaments with Conchata and Gabriel’s names along with the year they were designed on them. You silently conclude you wouldn’t have missed them, considering they would’ve caught your attention. Your eyes stop on one of Gabriel’s. You smile warmly at it, seeing the year it was made, 2084.

“Gabriel,” you say softly, tenderly, as if you knew him, though you never did nor will.

Miguel turns to look at you, smiling softly as he detects that tenderness in your voice while saying his younger brother’s name. It makes him feel warm and appreciation towards you even more, while also making him wish once again that you could’ve met Gabriel. He’s thought about it in the past a lot. He believes that Gabriel and you would’ve been good friends, too. He turns to look at the ornament, taking a drink from his mug. He wishes you could’ve met not only Gabriel but also Gabriella because he knows she would’ve loved you just like Gabriel.

Miguel consoles himself with the fact that you’ve at least met them in his dreams as he often sees them there. After what happened with Gabriella’s universe, Miguel’s dreams were plagued by nightmares, leading him to avoid sleep and only sleeping when his body was at the verge of exhaustion for months. He still has nightmares sometimes but his dreams are far more pleasant these days thanks to you. Ever since the spring after his near death experience, when he discovered that your scent and the sound of your breathing while you sleep help him, he has been sleeping better and with less nightmares.

Now, he dreams of Gabriella and Gabriel often. Conchata and his late wife sometimes make appearances, though not as often as the first two. Not as often as you now. You started showing up in his dreams two months after his near death experience and ever since then, you’ve become a regular. It’s how he consoles himself when he wishes you could’ve met two of the most important people in his life, Gabriella and Gabriel. You engage with them in his dreams and they both love you, which only fuels his belief that they would’ve loved you in life, too.

Miguel smiles softly as he thinks of them. There’s some heartache, and he knows there will always be. However, for the first time in years, Miguel doesn’t feel overwhelmed by his heartache like he used to. He doesn’t feel like that because he’s not alone. He looks over at you, noticing the awe in your eyes as you continue to take in the Christmas tree and how your eyes linger on something specific.

You’ve been admiring the ornaments, silently reading the different years of the ornaments and even finding some of Miguel’s from previous years when your eyes land on one specific ornament.

Yours.

You stare at it. You weren’t expecting to see it and if you were honest, you thought Miguel had probably erased your file or simply omitted it from the final copy last year but no, it’s on the tree. You wonder if he simply missed it and that’s why it’s on here as a simple mistake. You look around it, your eyes also finding the one Miguel made last year when he was showing you how the design program worked. It’s next to yours much like it was last year. You stare at the two ornaments until a screen, a tablet, meets your vision. You blink.

“Want to give it another go?” Miguel asks with a soft grin, offering you a tablet.

You smile and accept it, recognizing the ornament design program from last year. You look over at him, finding him smiling softly as he holds his mug and another tablet. You silently wonder where he retrieved the two tablets from since he hasn’t left your side. You glance at the dining table, questioning if they were there all along and whether Miguel planned for this.

“Sure, why not? I think I can do better this year,” you reply, still smiling.

“You did pretty great last year,” Miguel says reassuringly before he gestures to the dining table.

The two of you sit down, next to each other. The mugs are placed on the table before the designing of ornaments begins. The two of you design your ornaments, falling into a comforting and peaceful silence though soft Christmas music still plays in the background. It’s not until five or so minutes that the silence is disrupted.

“Aww, you’re designing ornaments! How cute,” Lyla says appearing between the two of you and taking a glance at each tablet. “No offense Miguel but Y/N is doing so much better than you.”

“Thanks, Lyla,” Miguel replies, not even looking up at her as he continues to design.

You smile and decide not to say anything.

“I’m just saying, it looks like Y/N has had more years of experience doing this than you. And this is your universe…” Lyla says.

“You’re so encouraging,” Miguel answers.

Lyla shrugs. “I try my best.”

You shake your head at Lyla and continue to work on your ornaments for a few more minutes until the two of you are done. You show each other your screens and smile as you see that you’ve both stuck to Miguel's Christmas tree theme colors and added the current year in Nueva York.

“You added more detail,” Miguel notes as he looks at yours, feeling happy that you even added the year underneath your name just like he did. “Are you ready to upload it?”

You nod and so, Miguel uploads both his and your ornament, saving it to the program. You both get up to add the ornaments through the tablet to see where the program places them since it’s supposedly done randomly, making it a bit of a fun game.

Miguel uploads his first, showing up somewhere around the top before you add yours. You both search for it and find it at last, placed just below his new one.

“That was fun. Thank you, Miguel,” you gently say, breaking the silence.

“It's no traditional tree but…” he says, looking at the ornaments.

“It's wonderful,” you finish with a smile, looking at the tree yourself.

Your response tears Miguel's gaze from the ornaments to you, his red eyes taking you in. He silently gives thanks for you, something he has found himself doing more as the months have gone by. He's quick to remember now the gifts he got you but a part of him is still going back and forth on it. What if you don't like them? Or worse, what if you find it odd that he’s giving you gifts? He turns his gaze away from you to look behind the Christmas tree. He placed the gift bag there earlier behind the tree, where he knows it’s not visible, just in case he brings himself to do it at some point during the night. He sighs softly, reassuring himself he still has time, and besides, he also has tomorrow to give it to you since he plans on inviting you for the recalentado.

The two of you stand there for a little while longer, admiring the Christmas tree, silently thinking about how much has changed in a year, and deciding that you wouldn’t change anything about it.

After a little while later, Miguel checks the time.

“The Christmas show will start soon,” he quietly says.

You turn, remembering. You thought about it earlier this month but it seemed to have escaped your mind today as it’s been a busy day. You visited your parents, Aunt May, and Peter’s graves earlier this morning to change their flowers since it’s Sunday. Then, there was your morning patrol because even on the holidays, you like to check up on your city, just in case. And of course, there was the party at Miles’s universe where you and your friends did a gift exchange just like the previous year.

“How long till it starts?” you ask.

“About fifteen minutes,” Miguel replies with a smile. “Plenty of time to drink the champurrado.”

You grin and nod, turning to walk back to the kitchen island. You take one last glance at the tree, your eyes finding your ornaments. You briefly think about how there’s now two ornaments with your name on them on Miguel’s tree. The sight spreads a warmth through your chest for you never imagined this. You turn away and follow Miguel to the kitchen island for the other drink.

He offers the buñuelos and more sweet tamales, which you happily accept. You eat and talk in the privacy of Miguel’s home with a holographic countdown in display, counting down the minutes until the holographic Christmas show starts.

“It’s supposed to snow again,” Miguel says as he turns his body sideways on the chair, facing you completely now.

“We’re supposed to get snow, too. All the kids and some adults were excited about it this morning when I was on morning patrol,” you say with a chuckle that makes Miguel grin.

You turn slightly, facing Miguel more with your body but still making sure to give Miguel space. Over the last few months you’ve brushed hands, arms, and legs here and there. It has been accidental, as you’re always trying to make sure to respect Miguel’s boundaries regarding physical contact. Ever since losing Gabriella in his arms, Miguel finds physical touch hard but you’ve noticed the way he has slowly opened up to it. It’s not much compared to how open you are to it with your friends like a hug or a pat on the shoulder. Miguel is not there yet but you’ve noticed the brushing of his fingers against yours when you hand him items has become more intentional than accidental on his end over the last few months, which makes you happy that he’s starting to feel more comfortable with it.

Then, there’s been the slight squeeze of his pinky around yours. It’s happened three times so far, and it’s been on times when the two of you have shared something personal. The first time Miguel did it was after he shared with you his childhood and Spider-Man origins. The second time was on Peter’s birthday this year when you invited Miguel again for your small celebration in his honor. There were a few tears on your end, for you couldn’t help but feel sentimental. You guess Miguel did it to comfort you in a small way, not realizing that his presence alone was more than comforting to you. The third and last time was over a month ago on Dia de Los Muertos, when he invited you to see his ofrenda for the second time.

Except this year, he invited you earlier in the evening while he cooked all his loved ones’ food and prepared the decorations, even inviting you to help him cut the colorful tissue paper into the beautiful and intricate designs to adorn his offering. He even made extra this year of everything so the two of you could eat and by midnight when the ofrenda was completed and lit up by flickering candles that cast shadows over the marigolds, you could tell Miguel was sentimental as his eyes scanned the four photos. His mother, his wife, Gabriel, and Gabriella.

You thought he was sad, naturally, but he was sentimental because he was recalling a dream - or was it a vision - Miguel still goes back and forth on this. It was the dream he had while he passed away for a few minutes back in the spring. He saw his wife, Gabriel, Gabriella, and even his counterpart, who gave him closure on his guilt for stepping up as Gabriella’s father after his passing. He thought about the dream that night on Dia de Los Muertos, as the two of you knelt in front of his ofrenda for the second time, and remembered Gabriella’s sweet words, thanking Miguel for all her favorite food and the toys he offered the previous year. He also remembered his loved ones’ assurances that they were always with him. He grew sentimental that night, wondering if they were there at that moment, with him and you.

You wanted to comfort him like so many times before but you knew and continue to know that Miguel is still not fully ready for such physical touch. He noticed it, like so many other times, and decided to let you in his own, small way; by squeezing your pinky with his own when he handed you a mug with café de olla. That was the third, and you’re certain it will be, the last time of this year.

It’s small but you’re very happy for Miguel. You’re immensely thankful that he has allowed you into his life and that he trusts you. You smile at him as you continue to face him.

“I can imagine the excitement. You can’t beat una blanca navidad,” he says turning to the windows, wondering if he’ll still be awake by the time it’s supposed to start snowing.

“That’s true,” you reply as you turn to the windows yourself.

“Three minutes,” Miguel says looking at the countdown. “Should we save the café de olla for after the show?”

“If you want to,” you reply softly, looking at your current mug. “I still have a little champurrado left.”

Miguel nods. “Me, too. Café de olla for after then.”

You grin at him before you stand up, fixing your top and feeling excitement. Last year you got to watch the Christmas show and it was amazing as it was all holographic and playing in front of Miguel’s building. You recall the Santa Claus even waved at you as he rode past in his sleigh.

Miguel and you head to the windows, mugs in hand. You lean sideways on the window just like he does, facing each other as you await. At last, the Christmas holographic show begins with a large and bright yellow star.

“It’s starting,” you whisper softly, eyes wide in fascination.

Miguel’s eyes flicker to you subtly, gently smiling at your reaction before he returns his gaze to the show.

The star begins to spin, rapidly, sending sparks flying through the air. The star spins so fast, it begins to look more like a yellow portal. Suddenly, holographic reindeer gallop out into the night sky before Santa’s sleigh and Santa himself fly out of the portal, pulled by the reindeer. He waves his arm around before pulling holographic gifts from his sack of gifts to show them off, even pointing at the windows and gesturing to the gifts as if saying “this is for you.”

You grin softly, loving every second of this but then it gets better because snowmen step, or rather glide out of the still spinning star/portal, waving hello before they start a dance performance that sends holographic snowflakes flying through the sky. You chuckle softly as the snowmen continue to dance while Santa and his reindeer fly above them. Miguel chuckles quietly as well, enjoying the show and briefly recalling previous years when he would stand next to little Gabriel to watch the show together when they were just kids. Gabriel’s favorite part was always when Santa made his appearance.

“¡Miguel, mira, mira! It’s Santa!” Gabriel would exclaim excitedly each year, waving his small hand through the glass window, hoping to catch the holographic Santa’s attention.

Miguel would nod, smiling and feeling the excitement himself but he showed it in a more reserved way, which always led Gabriel to grab Miguel’s top from the hem.

“Miguel, wave to Santa! He’ll notice the two of us! Miguel!” Gabriel used to say, pouting.

“Okay, okay,” Miguel would reply before waving, unable to refuse his brother’s demands.

Miguel sighs softly at the memories of his little brother now. He always thought he’d be the first to pass away, being the oldest, but life had other plans for Gabriel. Still, Miguel silently hopes that Gabriel gets to watch the show from wherever he is.

His thoughts fade away as a new thing happens, catching both his and your attention. A neon red string comes out of the yellow spinning star and attaches to Santa’s sleigh. Your eyebrow raises as the color is familiar and sure enough, it is. Spider-Man 2099, as a hologram, swings out of the portal and pulls himself onto Santa’s sleigh at the back. You gasp softly in both surprise and delight, turning to look at Miguel briefly to see his reaction. He looks just as surprised. Your eyes return to him, or his hologram version, as he begins to wave towards the windows, wearing a santa hat.

The two of you, and the rest of Nueva York, watch the interaction between Santa and Spider-Man 2099 as the man in all red offers the other one a plate with cookies. The superhero accepts one and nods back at Santa in gratitude before they begin to fly around, closer to the windows now. You’re smiling the entire time, finding it endearing that the city included Miguel this year in the holographic Christmas show.

“I wasn’t expecting that,” Miguel says next to you with a grin.

You look up at him, smiling. “It was a nice surprise. I bet all your supporters are delighted.”

Miguel hums in response and looks at you with his little grin. “I hope so.”

“I’m sure they are! I’m not even from this dimension and I’m delighted by it,” you reply turning back to look at the windows just in time as Santa’s sleigh flies by Miguel’s windows.

You cover your mouth in delight as Santa waves at the two of you with Spider-Man 2099 just behind him on the sleigh. You can’t help yourself so you wave back at Santa and then at Spider-Man 2099 when Santa moves his sleigh further ahead so the superhero can face both Miguel and you. He gives Miguel a nod, which you find amusing considering the irony before the hologram turns to you. He leans closer and offers a high-five, which you reciprocate with a soft laugh as you’ve never seen Miguel do such a thing. Just as you put your hand down, the hologram gives you a wink.

“Oh,” you say simply, amused but surprised before both Santa and Spider-Man 2099 wave goodbye and fly lower to other floors. You steal a glance at Miguel and notice his eyes on the still dancing snowmen. There’s a soft blush covering his cheeks as he leans his entire body on the window sideways with his free hand in his pocket since the two of you have placed your mugs on the window’s ledge. Is he avoiding your gaze? You turn back to the show with a small smile.

Miguel stares at the snowmen, they’re still dancing and sending holographic snowflakes into the air. His face feels hot and he’s sure it shows. He wasn’t expecting to be part of the show this year, even though he’s been added to it before but what was more surprising was the hologram’s behavior. He smiles and shakes his head to himself as he looks at you. Your attention is back to the show. He hasn’t even offered a high-five to you - or anyone - since Gabriella, so he finds it amusing that the hologram beat him to it. The winking on the other hand… Makes his cheeks flush and wonder what were the odds that the hologram winked at you specifically. He sighs silently and returns his attention back to the show, thinking that his small embarrassment was worth it, considering you found the interaction amusing and it made you happy. He decides he can handle some light embarrassment if that’s the outcome, your happiness.

The show concludes with Santa and Spider-Man 2099 making one last round across the sky, snowmen dancing with snowflakes falling. They wave goodbye as they fly around before they head straight for the yellow portal, disappearing into it with a bright glow. The snowmen follow, waving goodbye, still dancing in a line as they enter the spinning star. At last there’s nothing left except for the spinning star which begins to slow down until it stops completely. It blinks in and out. Once, twice, thrice… before it explodes into tiny yellow flickers of light that begin to form words, spelling out “¡Feliz Navidad, Nueva York!”

You smile fondly as the show concludes. “That was awesome,” you say softly.

Miguel scoffs playfully. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

You nod and retrieve your mug, finishing up your drink.

“And this was really good, too. I can’t decide which one I like more. Champurrado or ponche,” you say, raising an eyebrow as you ponder this.

Miguel chuckles softly. “It’s a hard choice… Now add café de olla to the mix.”

“I’m choosing café de olla.”

Miguel blinks at how fast you responded, then chuckles again. “I’m taking that as a cue from you.”

You laugh. “I didn’t mean it like that but if you’re still offering, I’m not declining,” you say with a little shrug, which amuses Miguel.

He gestures back to the kitchen. “It’s amazing with sweet tamales.”

And that’s all it takes for the two of you to find yourselves back in the kitchen island with different mugs now holding café de olla. Since he recalled all those previous years, Miguel finds himself sharing those days, telling you all about Gabriel and how excited he was each year. You smile as he shares those fond memories, making you wish you could’ve met the younger O’Hara brother with the cheeky smile.

It’s past midnight when you look around the kitchen, noticing the pans and pots. The two of you have been sitting here just talking and drinking coffee but you realize you should probably head home soon.

“May I help you clean up?” you ask Miguel.

And of course, he immediately shakes his head. “Thank you but don’t worry about it. I got it.”

You frown softly. “I don’t mind. That way it’s done quicker and you can rest sooner. You must be tired after cooking all on your own.”

“It’s alright, don’t worry about it, Y/N,” he replies gently but you shake your head.

“Please. It’s the least I can do. We’ll tackle it quicker together. C’mon,” you say, standing up.

“Y/N,” Miguel replies, almost grumpily because the last thing he wants is for you to be doing any cleaning when you’re his guest but you’re already around the kitchen island, facing him.

“Does it matter what containers I use?” you ask him.

Miguel stares at you, wishing he could glare at you for insisting on doing this but he finds himself unable to. All he does is pout and shake his head before he stands up, giving up and accepting your help. Midway through the cleaning he decides it’s a good thing anyway, since it means that you’re spending more time with him here at his penthouse. It also gives him more time to build the courage and give you your Christmas gift. After some time, the kitchen is spotless and the food has been stored away. You neatly fold a towel over the counter before walking back to the chairs. It’s about 12:30 am, Christmas Day. You know it’s time to head home now as you want Miguel to rest, and you could use some sleep yourself. You reach for your coat, swinging it over your arm, thinking about something.

“I should head home now. It’s pretty late and you must be tired,” you say, looking at Miguel just as he walks around the kitchen island to meet you.

He leans on the counter with one hand. “I’m not too tired, don’t worry,” he says with a small grin. Miguel’s definitely a bit tired but he’ll gladly stay up later if it means you’ll stay a bit longer.

“You should still get some rest,” you reply with a small. “Thank you so much for dinner. As always, I loved everything.”

Miguel nods slowly. “Always. I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

You hum in response, smiling. You nod, ready to wish him a Merry Christmas before heading out but he straightens up.

“Before you go…” Miguel starts, trailing off. He looks at the tree, gaining that courage at last. “Here.”

He walks to the tree and retrieves a holiday gift bag from behind it. Your eyebrows raise in surprise and for some strange reason, your heart speeds up. Did Miguel get you a gift?

Miguel walks back to you, standing just a few feet away before he hands it to you. He feels his own heart race as he watches you carefully accept the bag, with your eyes filled with surprise.

“Oh… Miguel. You didn’t have to, really,” you say so softly as you stare at the bag. “But… thank you. Thank you, Miguel,” you say with a warm smile before you remember what you were thinking about just a minute ago. “Wait, can you give me like five minutes? I need to go home. I’ll be right back, I promise,” you say as you gently place his gift bag on the counter. “I’ll be right back, is that okay with you?”

Miguel nods, wondering why you need to go home, though a part of him suspects the reason. “Yes, that’s okay. I’ll wait here.”

You nod eagerly, smiling as you begin to walk backwards, heading to the living room. “I’ll be right back!”

You head to the living room, quickly opening a portal as you do so. You return to your dimension and in less than five minutes you’re back in Nueva York. You walk back into the kitchen and dining area of Miguel’s penthouse with a large box wrapped in Christmas wrapping paper and an equally tall gift bag. You find Miguel exactly where he stayed when you left and upon seeing the box and bag, his eyebrows raise gently, surprised. You approach him slowly.

“I was debating… giving it to you,” you start gently. “I didn’t know if you’d find the gesture - as too much - and I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. I hope it doesn’t,” you finish softly as you offer him the box. “I hope you like it, Miguel,” you add sheepishly because you thought about it for days. What could you gift to someone who had the money to buy it himself if he didn’t have it already? What was something that you could give him that would be meaningful? You had to sit down and brainstorm.

Miguel takes the box from you because he doesn’t want you to keep holding such a large box on top of a gift bag on your own, even if you’re Spider-Woman and you can certainly carry more than that.

“You didn’t have to,” Miguel says softly as he feels the weight. “Thank you, Y/N,” he says looking up at you, taken aback. He wasn’t thinking about receiving gifts nor did he buy anything for himself as he’s not really about receiving gifts, at least not since he was a kid.

You nod and smile. “Always. And here’s the gift bag, too.”

Miguel places the box on the kitchen island and accepts the bag. “Are you sure?” he asks, raising his eyebrows again. “Whatever is in the box, I think that’s - I hope you didn’t waste too much money,” he says, nervously.

“Don’t worry about that, please. You don’t have to open it now if you don’t want to, by the way,” you reply, thinking now that he may find it more comfortable to open it without you around.

“No, that would be rude. I’ll open it now. If you open yours,” Miguel says, meeting your gaze.

You chuckle and nod. “I’ll open it here with you then.”

“You first,” he replies, holding the gift bag you’ve given him.

You don’t argue and nod, trying to make this a pleasant moment for Miguel. You pick up the gift bag he gave you and open it, before gently pulling out decorative tissue paper. You look inside and realize there’s multiple gifts, all individually wrapped in Christmas wrapping paper. You look up at Miguel and grin softly, shaking your head at him because you’ve done something similar.

“You didn’t have to get me so many things.”

Miguel shrugs, smiling softly. “I could tell you the same thing.”

You laugh and pull out the first item. It’s a box that you carefully unwrap, revealing a white box. You open it, finding the item surrounded in tissue paper. At last, you pull it to the side and find a sweatshirt. You pull it out of the box with a smile, spreading it open to see the design on the front. It has Nueva York’s skyline printed on it and the sweatshirt is in one of your favorite colors.

“I thought since you really like sweatshirts…” Miguel says, hoping you like it.

“I love sweatshirts and I love this one! It’s so cute, thank you!” you happily tell him as you pull it towards your chest. “Seriously, I love this so much! Thank you, Miguel,” you add much softly.

Miguel grins, relieved because he can see your genuine reaction. It only makes him more excited to see you open the rest.

“Go ahead and open the others,” he says gently.

You nod happily and continue, pulling out another box but this one is heavier. After carefully unwrapping it, you’re holding a brand new tablet from this dimension.

Miguel walks closer to you, hoping you like it. “I found a way to make sure it’ll work in your dimension, much like the gizmos and other devices we use for the society. You’ll have access to any dimension’s internet, if it has internet, of course. I… I always see how much you seem to enjoy working with the tablets here and I thought you’d like your own for your personal use,” Miguel starts, sounding excited as he tells you more about it and all the features you’ll have access to.

You smile and eagerly nod, happy to see Miguel so excited as he tells you about it. You can only look at him in awe as he thought about everything and any potential issues you may have, even thinking about a protective screen and case.

“I can tell you more about it later, there’s a few more things in the bag,” Miguel says, stepping back to give you space.

You thank him once again for the tablet, suspecting that it was rather expensive. You go through the rest of the bag, finding books for you to read since you’ve told Miguel over the last months about books you’ve read, and he has noticed it himself by spotting books on your coffee table. You notice he bought books that fit your vibe perfectly, which you find endearing. Along with that, Miguel bought you multiple packages of book tabs because he also noticed some of your books back home had some, marking passages that you really liked. You smile warmly as you put those items back, thanking Miguel for being so thoughtful, into yet another gift. He packaged the books and book tabs into a reusable tote bag with some of Nueva York's most important buildings printed on it, which you absolutely love.

At last, you reach the final present. You pull it out, the item feeling familiar. You look at it with curiosity and proceed to open it with Miguel's encouragement. You smile slowly.

“Miguel…” you say softly as you reveal four records. You read the titles, recognizing the artists. You smile at him as you realize.

Lyla plays music sometimes for the two of you on Saturdays when Miguel hosts dinner and during those times, you've discovered some new music from this universe. The only problem is that they don't exist in your dimension.

“Thank you… This means so much to me. You know how much I love their music. Now I can add it to my collection. Thank you!” you tell him warmly, wishing you could give him a hug right now. “Thank you for everything, Miguel.”

Miguel grins softly and nods. “Always. I'm glad you like your gifts,” he replies, truly feeling happy. He's also glad you don't seem to mind that he got you a few things, nor find it odd that he’s bought you gifts.

“Your turn,” you tell him softly.

Miguel scoffs playfully but nods. “Alright. Which one should I open first?”

“The box,” you answer quickly, excited.

Miguel nods and moves towards the box, silently wondering what's inside as he remembers the weight. He smiles softly at you before he starts unwrapping it, slowly revealing an image on the box. He pauses as he realizes what it is.

“Y/N…” he says, looking up at you with surprise and happiness in his eyes.

“I've noticed you don't have one but that you enjoy the records back at my universe so… I thought I'd get you one. I know the sound quality from the ones here in your universe is probably better but-” you stop as Miguel shakes his head at you, his hand flat on the record player, or its packaging box at least.

“No, this one is perfect,” Miguel says in such a way that there's no room for debate. “Thank you, this is so thoughtful, Y/N. I know exactly where I'm going to set it up,” he adds softly, grinning, already thinking about the perfect place.

You smile at him, noticing a glimmer in his eyes.

“Always. I'm so happy you like it… You still have the bag though!” you remind him, chuckling.

“Right. I got too excited with the record player.”

He grabs the bag and opens it, pulling out decorative tissue paper just as gently as you did with yours, finding individual gifts wrapped as well. He chuckles to himself, finding it amusing that you both did the same thing.

He pulls out a small box and unwraps it, revealing a pair of black mittens. His eyebrows furrow, noticing they'll definitely fit. He hasn't found mittens nor gloves that fit his hands before, at least not in stores. It didn’t matter much in the last few years, considering he was always wearing his suit but now that he's been wearing his clothes and going out to retrieve groceries, he could really use them with winter and all.

He picks one up and tries it, fitting him perfectly. Miguel smiles turning his hand and that's when he sees the small personalization with his last name on the bottom of the glove in silver thread. He chuckles softly, realizing you had these custom-made for sure.

“Are they okay?” you ask.

“Yes, they're more than okay.” Miguel looks up and shows you. “They fit. I've never been able to find any for my hands since I became Spider-Man. Thank you so much, and the personalization… I've never been gifted something so personalized. Thank you, Y/N, truly” Miguel says with a smile, knowing that he'll be using them a lot for the winter.

He pulls out another box and smiles softly when he finds books. Many months ago at your apartment, Miguel mentioned that he liked to read though it's something he rarely does these days. He recalls telling you that time that he enjoyed reading history and sci-fi books, exactly the kind you got him. The fact that you remembered this tiny detail from so long ago, makes Miguel smile in appreciation. He thanks you for remembering and promises to try and read them soon, silently telling himself that for the new year, he’s going to try and get back into reading.

At last, he reaches the final package. It feels heavy and when Miguel looks at you with wonder and curiosity, he sees a glimmer in your eyes, excitement.

With your encouragement, he unwraps and opens the package. He stares into the box, feeling a warmth spread through him. He looks at you and gives you a gentle smile before he pulls out the first record.

“You…” Miguel starts quietly, with tenderness. He can't help but feel ternura for you **in this moment.

You walk closer to him, smiling. “You've mentioned liking some of the records. Some are my personal ones, others were Peter's… and I remembered you didn't have a record player, so I thought I could get you one, and also some records to help you start a collection,” you explain softly.

Miguel nods as he pulls out another record, and yes, the two he's pulled out so far are records he truly enjoys from your universe. He smiles softly at you, filled with ternura. Your gifts are so thoughtful and sweet, and the fact that you've paid attention to what records he enjoys when he’s mentioned it in passing, makes him feel heard, appreciated, and… loved.

“Thank you - so much, Y/N. For everything,” Miguel says softly, almost a whisper. “I can't wait to set the record player up and continue adding to the collection you've started for me. Thank you.”

“Always. I'm glad you like it, Miguel,” you answer softly. “And if you ever just want to borrow one of the records, let me know. I'll happily let you.”

Miguel nods, smiling gently, in appreciation. You can only return the smile before both of you notice the white, soft spots through the windows.

“Una blanca Navidad,” Miguel says quietly.

“A white Christmas,” you repeat. “Merry Christmas, Miguel,” you tell him.

Miguel smiles. “Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

You both watch the snow for a few minutes, mentioning how excited the kids will be when they wake up before Miguel continues to appreciate every record you gifted him.

After some more talking about the records and Miguel thanking you a few times more, you stand in his living room with your tote bag and bag with gifts. A portal is behind you, waiting for you to step in to return home.

“Thank you for dinner once again. Everything was so amazing! And thank you for the thoughtful gifts, Miguel,” you tell him warmly with a smile.

“Always… I'm happy you liked dinner and the gifts.” Miguel smiles back at you and then he remembers. “Come back for the recalentado, please. Just like last year,” he says, stepping closer. Ever since opening his gifts, he's had the need to hug you but it's still too soon, still too much for him to handle.

“Of course, thank you. What time is best for you?” you ask with a grin.

Miguel pauses for a moment, thinking. And then, he invites you for breakfast.

“The recalentado is for dinner. You can go home after breakfast, don't feel pressured to be here all day. I know you probably have plans to see everyone else at some point today and then you can come back for dinner, or… If you want to spend the day here - I wouldn't mind at all but you probably have plans and-” Miguel says, scratching his neck softly, not knowing how to simply say that he’d be open to you spending the day here with him without it sounding off.

“I wouldn't mind either.”

Miguel lowers his hand. “Oh…” He smiles slowly and nods. “Then…”

“I’ll see you in the morning - or well, I guess in a few hours?”

“In a few hours then,” he replies softly. “I’ll wait for you for breakfast.”

You thank him again and with one last goodbye from both of you, you enter the portal and return home. Miguel stands in his living room, the light of the portal fading slowly. He looks past it and out the windows, the snow is really picking up now. He smiles softly, planning on doing one more thing before heading to bed for the night.

The next morning you shower and get ready to go to Miguel's universe. You grab your gizmo from the coffee table, accidentally knocking off a notice you and the entire building received earlier this month from your landlord, something about not overloading extension cords and electrical sockets because of the holidays to avoid a short circuit.

You pick it up and place it back on the table before you open a portal. You find yourself in Miguel's living room once again, only a few hours later.

The fireplace is on already, making the entire penthouse feel cozy and warm. The sound of music fills your ears, except the quality is different and you recognize the song. Your eyes search for it and you find it quickly. You smile in delight as you see that Miguel has given his new record player and records a home in his living room, and that he's already using it.

“Good morning, Merry Christmas,” Miguel says making you turn in surprise, which makes him chuckle softly.

You chuckle as you take him in. His hair is damp from a shower and he's wearing a beige sweater that looks incredibly cozy on him. He steps closer, gesturing to the record player. His scent surrounds you and you find yourself recognizing every aspect of it - from his shampoo to his body wash and his shaving products to his deodorant and cologne, to his scent alone. You blink, surprised at yourself by how well you recognize the different notes of his scent, even months later since you helped him shower when he was injured and nearly lost his life back in the spring.

You push those thoughts away and smile at Miguel as he tells you about how he set up the record player after you left and that he's been playing music from it since he woke up. You don’t fail to notice the happy tone in his voice as he tells you about it before he leads you to the kitchen and dining area of his penthouse where a lovely breakfast, cooked by Miguel, awaits the two of you.

Over music and conversation, you have breakfast together. You don’t leave afterward and instead stick around, especially when Miguel mentioned there was a holiday special for the movie series the two of you got into when he was recovering from his injuries in the spring. And so, you spent the entirety of the day in each other's presence on this Blanca Navidad.

🎄❄️🎄❄️🎄❄️🎄❄️🎄❄️🎄

Translations: café de olla - Mexican coffee made in a pot pan dulce - Mexican sweet bread tinga - Latin dish made out of meat (pork, chicken) in sauce with onions, chiles chipotle, and tomatoes. Can be eaten on tostadas or as burritos (my experience) and topped with different toppings like sour cream, salsa, lettuce. burritos - I think everyone knows this tostadas - toasted tortillas; usually used as a base for different culinary dishes pozole - A kind of soup/stew made from hominy and meat (can be chicken or beef) and can be green or red, based on what chiles are used rajas de chile poblano - slices of chile poblano queso fresco - fresh cheese ponche - a Mexican Christmas punch made out of fresh fruit, spices (like hibiscus flowers), and sugar cane champurrado - chocolate-based atole, which is made of masa harina (in my experience). buñuelos - Christmas dessert; fried dough fritter (so good with atole) "Ya lo sabia" - "I knew it" agua de Jamaica - hibiscus tea Dia de Los Muertos - Day of the Dead ofrenda - altar for Day of the Dead recalentado - word translates to "reheated" but this is when you invite your closest friends and family to eat the reheated leftovers from the previous day of some event. It's supposed to be a smaller tight-knit group situation and less formal since it's with close friends/family. "una blanca Navidad" - "a white Christmas" "mira" - "look" Feliz Navidad - Merry Christmas ternura - endearment, tenderness; I still can't find a word in English that makes me feel like the word "ternura" does

_____________

Long A/N: Merry Christmas! I was hoping to have this out sooner, but the holidays got to me. I was also not planning on writing anything like this for Nonviolent Communication, but then I was like

Didn't I write a Christmas part (for Nonviolent Communication) back in like September because Christmas and Miguel just sound so cozy and warm? And now when it's the holidays I'm gonna miss the chance to write something for the story? In this economy? No. So, I got the idea and started writing, and here it is now! Thank you to everyone who responded to this post regarding what you'd give Miguel for Christmas. I had a horrible migraine while working on this yesterday and my brain was not cooperating. Thank you to @winniethewife for mentioning mittens! And thank you to @lulu-baked-beans for the lovely idea of gifting Miguel a record player and some records to start his own collection! I already had Miguel set to gift reader some records from his universe, so this was such a perfect little coincidence!

I hope you guys enjoy this, and thank you for reading if you got this far! Happy Holidays! ❤️🎄

Also, here's a little BTS of me working on this with someone special who arrived Friday (just in time to help with the tamales and everything else 🤣). He said he'd go with café de olla, too!

218 notes · View notes

virescent-v · 10 months

Text

School Yard Bully Pt. 2

A/N: The follow up to School Yard Bully. It's short and it's got smut. 😂 I know what my Emily fans like and I aim to please 🫡 Also, this gif? my god 🥵🥵🥵

Word Count: 1.8k+

Warnings: oral (r! receiving), use of pet names (baby, princess). I think that's about it. It's not that wild this time lol

Part One can be read here

Have fun ;) and happy Saturday! :)

A week has passed since your lock in with Emily. Work for the past week was quiet, mostly catching up on paperwork. While you were thankful a case didn’t tear you away, you had been bored every day, most of the team keeping their heads down and focusing on all of the overdue work they had.

You and Emily hadn’t had much time alone together to talk about what happened at Rossi’s. You weren’t even entirely sure that your date was still on until Friday morning when Emily texted you from her desk.

Emily: I need your address so I can pick you up tonight.

You: Oh, we’re still going? You hadn’t said anything…

You glanced up, catching Emily’s eyes across the bullpen. You could see the light shining in them, even from so far away.

Emily: I didn’t want the team to be nosey. This is about us.

You could see a light blush staining her cheeks and it made your insides warm. This was a complete switch from the Emily you’ve known. And you were looking forward to getting to know her.

You sent off a text with your address and a ‘see you at 7pm sharp, Prentiss’ before getting back to your paperwork.

Nothing was going to get in the way of your date tonight, especially paperwork.

At exactly seven, your doorbell rang. You exhaled slowly, feeling the nerves rush through you. You weren’t sure what you were doing tonight, but you assumed it was something fancy, as Emily had told you to dress accordingly.

You were wearing a tight fitting, but still appropriate, deep red dress. It clung to you in all the right ways, highlighting the curve of your hips, the valley between your breasts. It showed off just the right amount of both cleavage and legs. Your makeup was done with a little smokey eye, making your eyes look hooded and seductive. Simply, you looked hot.

You opened the door to find an absolute vision in front of you. Emily was wearing black slacks and a white button down, the sleeves pushed halfway up her forearms. The shirt was tucked into her pants, drawing attention to her waist. She had a necklace that hung at the perfect space on her chest. It was minimal, but it took your breath away.

Emily cleared her throat. “Wow, uh, you look beautiful,” she said, a little breathlessly, her eyes taking in every inch of you, focusing intently on the peek of your thighs from under your dress.

You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks and chest with the way that she was looking at you. Intense, almost as if she was trying to memorize every curve of you.

“Should we go?” You said, grabbing your things, trying to ignore the feelings rising in you.

Emily smiled, extending her arm to you as you passed through your door, leading your way to her car, where she opened the door for you, watching you settle into the passenger seat. She leaned in close to you, her nose grazing the side of your neck, lightly inhaling the smell of your perfume. “I can’t wait to eat tonight,” she whispered, her breath tickling the side of your ear.

A slow, steady throb started between your legs, making you break out in goosebumps.

You turned your head slightly, your nose brushing against hers.

You could feel the ghost of her breath against your lips as she said, “I’m so hungry, princess.”

Before you could think, let alone respond, the car door was shut and Emily was making her way around the car.

Dinner went well, the conversation staying relatively tame minus a few suggestive comments from Emily that made the ache between your legs grow throughout the meal.

Emily tried her best to talk about anything but work, learning things about you that she hadn’t in the past few months. You two had enough in common that you could talk about your shared interests, but enough differences that it wasn’t boring.

You could tell the whole meal that Emily was holding back on something, but you didn’t want to ruin the lighthearted mood that had settled over the table.

It wasn’t long before you were back in the car, stuffed from a delicious meal paid for by Emily, heading back to your place.

When she put the car in park, you placed your hand on her wrist, looking into her eyes as you said, “Care for a drink?”

Emily took a deep breath, turned off the ignition, and followed you inside.

You lead her into your kitchen, a semi-tense silence falling between the two of you. You could tell whatever was brewing throughout dinner was going to let itself free soon.

You were pouring two glasses of wine, trying to listen to the glug of the liquid into the glass instead of the sound of your heart beating in your ears. As you turned around, Emily was leaned up against the opposite counter, both arms braced on the edge. Her eyes trailed down your form again, causing a fire to erupt in your chest. But you could still see the hesitation clouded in her dark eyes.

“I’m so sorry I was an ass for months to you just because I didn’t know how to handle my own feelings. It was immature, idiotic, and bitchy of me,” Emily said, her voice a breath above a whisper. “I regret it, and I’ll make it up to you every day if you’ll let me.”

You could see something dark taking over the light in Emily’s eyes, a flash of past trauma and hurt taking over her mind.

You reached behind you, placing the wine on the counter before walking slowly over to Emily, catching her eyes and holding them as you spoke. “I know you’re sorry, Em. I can see it and I believe it.” You made sure she was really looking at you before saying, “I forgive you.”

Emily's breath hitched, as if she couldn’t believe you would actually forgive her. You brought your hand up, stroking the underside of her jaw. “But act like that again, Prentiss, and you won’t like the version of me you see.”

You could feel more than hear the little chuckle Emily let out. “I understand. Princess treatment from here on out.” She paused, bringing her hand up, catching yours that was still stroking her jaw. “Can I kiss you now?”

You tilted your head, your brows furrowing quizzically. “What happened to eating me?”

Emily guffawed, her eyes lighting back up in challenge. You could see the moment the switch flipped within her and knew you were in for it.

She put one hand low on your belly and slowly pushed you back into the counter behind you. She said nothing as she gripped the underside of your thighs, lifting you up onto the counter.

You gasped at her easy show of strength and at the cold tile beneath you. You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth as Emily looked into your eyes, pushing your knees slowly apart before standing between them.

As her hands painstakingly made their way up your delicious thighs, her thumbs rubbing slow, steady circles on your skin, she inched her face towards yours. As her hands reached the inside of your thighs, her thumbs brushing against the soft skin where your thighs and abdomen connect, Emily’s lips found yours in a heated kiss, the tension from the past few hours - few months - finally combusting between the two of you.

Her hands circled around, grasping at your hips and then your ass, pulling you towards her, your dress riding up, almost exposing you. The friction from her between your legs was not nearly enough to do anything other than have you panting into Emily’s mouth as she ravished you.

Emily’s lips trailed away from yours, ghosting down your jaw, sucking lightly on the skin of your throat before traveling to the exposed skin of your chest, teasing kisses against the edge of your dress.

Her eyes glanced up at you, noting your dilated pupils, the flush spread across your cheeks, before smirking at you wickedly. “I’m ready for dessert, baby, are you?”

You almost wanted to roll your eyes, but the incessant throbbing between your legs was beginning to be too much. “Fuck me, Emily.”

You watched as Emily’s pupils got wider, darker, almost predatory.

She moved without hesitation, pushing your dress up to your waist, shoving your knees further apart roughly.

“No panties, baby? How naughty.” Her thumbs spread you further, your pussy fully on display. “Look at how wet you are for me. Practically dripping down your thighs.”

“Please, Em-.”

“I haven’t even really touched you yet and you’re already begging. How cute.” Emily wasted no more time, diving between your legs, dragging her tongue between your wet, silky folds, gathering your essence, her eyes closed as your taste erupted over her taste buds. “Fuck, you taste so good,” she moaned, attaching her mouth back to your pussy.

Emily ate you out like she was starving, like you were her last meal. Her tongue never kept the same pace, building you up but switching before you even got close to the edge.

Once your legs started shaking from the tension building in your lower stomach, Emily’s lips wrapped around your throbbing clit, skyrocketing your pleasure tenfold. As if she could tell you were close, she quickly thrust two fingers inside you, immediately curling them against the front wall of your cunt, zeroing in on the spot that made you grip her hair between your fingers, your hips rocking into her face as you tried to chase nirvana.

A litany of curses tumbled from your lips, calling out to a god you didn’t even believe in. With your head tilted back, your straining neck exposed, your legs wrapped around Emily’s back as you held her against you, you could feel the coil inside tightening, ready to snap.

With an exceptionally powerful thrust, the right twist of her fingers, and a well timed suck, your pleasure exploded, your hands tightening in Emily’s hair to an almost uncomfortable pain, a loud, stuttering moan falling from your lips.

Emily continued to thrust into you, albeit more slowly, as you came down as if she was stroking something precious. As you brought your head up to look at her, she grinned salaciously at you, removing her fingers and licking them clean.

As your breath caught in your throat at the sight, Emily dragged you off the counter, pressing up against you, kissing you with every feeling she’s been harboring for you for months.

You moaned at the taste of yourself on her lips, winding your hands back in her hair as you tried to get the strength back in your legs.

Pulling away from the kiss as you caught your breath, you smiled at Emily. “You owe me about…sixty more orgasms for how you treated me over the past six months, Em.”

Emily smiled, kissed you quickly, before grabbing your hand and leading you out of the kitchen and to where she assumed your bedroom was. She looked back over her shoulder at you, winking, and said, “Whatever you say, princess.”

#virescent v fanfic #emily prentiss fanfic #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss fanfiction #no use of y/n #literally emily in this gif is so 🫠🫠🫠#i also feel NO regrets posting smut at 0830 EST lmfao

359 notes · View notes

am-i-the-asshole-official · 7 months

Note

WIBTA if i tell my thesis coordinator, about one of my groupmates lack of comitment?

I want to start saying english is not my first language, and give some over all info. I am writing this on the 28th of November, 2023, a Tuesday. I am a Game Design major.

Ok, so i am doing my thesis work, and for what we thought it was going super well!

We have 5 members in our group, me, the game designer, 2 artist (M and B) and 2 programers (A and P).

As I said I thought things were going fine, we had a dead line for monday, yesterday as I am writing this, and we planned to have everything done by Sunday, with monday being a playtest by 3 people or so.

Both artists had all tasks done by wednesday and friday, and both were helping me with formating the big game design document 194 pages long baby! Wich got done by saturday night. However, I got informed by P that there were some issues with the code for the game, and they were gonna try and fix it by monday afternoon. It comes monday and i try and talk to both programers to get info on the game, and A tells me he can't talk cuse he is to busy and that he needs me to write the conclusion of our thesis paper. I found it weird that he asked me that now, since he said the writing was done on June! I believed that we only had to add some in game screenshots, but I write it the conclusion without any arguments.

Anyway, me and the other 2 artists get in a call to check the prsentation slides, and M says she has something important to talk about. B joins and the truth comes out. M explains that A has been doing another persons thesis coding work, not helping, but doing it entirely! We were super surprised and she asks us to not tell anyone else, and says this has been going on for a while, and she did confront A about it a week back, and he promissed he wasn't gonna work on the other guys project. Turns out he did work on it mutiple times, and even filmed the walktrough of the game for the guy. As I am writing this, A has told her he was working on this today.

Before we continue with this mess, I want to explain how M has found this out. A few months back A did tell her he was helping this other guy out with the code, he is a good programer and this dude is doing the thesis by himself, so she didn't think much of it, but a few weeks back, when she was asking A to implement some assets she had finished, he said he was to busy with Guy's project to do it. At this point she realised how much he was involved, and let me tell you, M knows how to extract information, she now knows A is also being PAID for it, he guy owns 500 bucks to A from what I gathered, besides what has alredy been paid. ANYWAYS let's get back to this mess.

I was so tired I couldn't even really react, and just did what I had to do that day, by this point I gathered we wouldn't be able to do the playtest, and write the thesis conclusion acordingly. Around 10 PM the programers tell me the game still has a few glitches but they have uploaded it to the google drive, and i do a one over and send in the file for avaluation.

I spent today mostly relaxing, reading and watching some videos, but around 7pm i am consumed by the anger and betrayel i couldn't feel yesterday, and I talk to B about what happened

We agreed we had to confront M about the situation, and since me and B were not supposed to know about it, she had to talk to A. She said she alredy did, and told us that A was planing on talking to everyone on the next meeting (tomorrow), however, i argue that P needs to know beforehand, since this situation is horrible and he could lash out if A just dropped this on him, us 3 agree and invite P to the group.

Turns out A has told P about it today, but he was so tired from the past few days, he had no energy to react.

We talked a lot, and we agreed we need to talk to our coordinator about this hole mess, wich is probably gonna happen the following days.

So, WIBTA for airing this mess?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

182 notes · View notes

dollfaceksj · 7 months

Note

It's Cal Day!!!😭🎊

Ugh, I'm so excited you have no idea

😘🫶🏽

can’t afford love | myg (m) #18

⋆ TAGLIST ⋆

⇠ PREV. ⋆ MASTERLIST ⋆ NEXT ⇢

you go to pick up jun from daycare the following monday

upon arriving home, you instantly start cooking his favorite food

have dinner with him

tuck him into bed

stare at him for a moment longer as he sleeps

so peacefully

and he looks so damn much like his father

his father

whom you haven’t been able to get out of your head since yesterday

fuck

you regret asking him

you regret leaving like that

but if you hadn’t

you’d have broken down in front of him

cried your eyes out in front of him

it would’ve felt like you made it about you.

even though it is to an extent

it’s a weird thing

you always thought yoongi handled the separation pretty well

him drinking to forget the pain sounds so unlike him

even when you knew him

even when his father—his best friend—died

he’d find comfort in you

would come home

hold you

he’d let a few tears escape but he never drank to that extent or cried his heart out

just held you

needed you to stroke his hair

kiss him

kiss his face

tell him everything was going to be okay

and in the end, you really did help him get through it

other than that, the most pain you’d seen him in was when the results for jun came back

because your pregnancy with jun was overdue

the thing is

jun was diagnosed with epilepsy

there’s nothing more terrifying than watching your tiny little baby have seizures

jun’s a sick boy too

bad immune system

you’d never seen yoongi as bad as you did when jun had been hospitalized for the furst time for a seizure that wouldn’t stop

yoongi didn’t sleep for over 48 hours

he’d lost so much weight

looked so weak and tired

so to think

your divorce

had him crying and drinking until he passed out in his vomit

oh gosh

fuck

you feel

fucked up

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

your week goes by slow

by the time it’s friday

you still haven’t heard from yoongi

you’re not sure if dinner is still on or not

you take a deep breath and pull up your phone

from: you

‘we still on for dinner with jun tomorrow at mine?’

you put your phone down

waiting for him to respond

seconds pass into minutes

minutes pass into hours

by the time you want to go to sleep, your phone finally buzzes

from: yoongi

‘👍.’

okay.

you suppose that’s an appropriate response.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

saturday rolls around

yoongi arrives a little after 7pm

you open the door for him in your silk bath robe

let him in

he barely looks at you

just walks up to jun, picking him off the floor and hugging him

kissing his cheeks

jun giggles and plays with his father’s hair

you’ve cooked yoongi’s favorite

he loves cheese tteokbokki and thats exactly what you made

with extra side dishes

you go to sit by the table, filling each plate

yoongi sets jun down and doesn’t say much else

he sits across from you, next to jun

hands jun his fork

and jun digs in without much thought

you hand yoongi his plate

he simply takes it without looking at you, muttering a low and quick ‘thank you’

mad or not

yoongi’s always gentle

you take your seat

and eat

in silence.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

yoongi uses the bathroom after 2 hours of sitting by the table

when he comes back

jun’s nowhere to be found

and you’re done cleaning the table

so he goes to look for you

finds you in your room

you’re a sick bitch for doing this btw

he frowns as he walks in, watching you remove your jewelry in front of your mirror. “where’s jun?”

you glance over your shoulder

it’s the first time he’s directly addressing you today

you look back at yourself in the mirror. “my mom just picked him up.”

he tilts his head to the side. “why?”

you put your earrings down and turn to him

walk up to him

you’re nervous

you’re starting to chicken out

but your hand reaching out for his almost comes like an automated act

he glances down at your hand

back up at you

but you keep staring at him

slightly shake your hand in the air so he understands that you want him to take your hand

he eventually takes your hand with a frown

you lead him to your bed

make him sit down

he sits down

looks up at you

you’re so

fucking nervous

but you bite the bullet

and place your hands on his shoulders as you climb onto him

start straddling his lap

he looks up at you

leans back on his hands

doesn’t give you the satisfaction of touching you

as if he wants to see what you’re trying to do

you cup his face, rub his cheeks softly

“you gonna let me take care of you?” you whisper, leaning forwards

his eyes instantly drop down to your lips

you nudge his nose with yours

and your lips barely graze his when he whispers, “take care how?”

you stare straight into his eyes

you’re so damn close to each other

his hands slowly travel up your thighs to your hips, giving them a firm squeeze

well… that didn’t take long

but he doesn’t lean in for a kiss and neither do you

and unfortunately

you chicken out last minute

so you kiss down his neck instead

kiss his jaw

suck on his neck gently

until you get some kind of reaction out of him

a soft exhale

lip bite

tense body

all of which happen

hmmm

you keep stalling

almost chicken out

but you’re done doing regretting this

now suck it up because you wanted this

you slowly slide off his lap

get on your knees in between his

and look up at him

he leans back on his hands to be able to stare down at you through hooded lids. arrogantly licks his lips. “what are you doing, sugar?”

you rub his thighs softly. “taking care of you.”

he stares at you with intende eyes and a skeptical expression

“will you let me?” you ask, squeezing his knees

he rolls his tongue against the inside of his cheek. “i hate you so much,” he whispers quietly

you place your cheek on his lap and look up at him, feigning innocence. “hm?”

he shakes his head. “hate how easy it is for you to make me forgive you. all you have to do is bat those fucking eyes at me and i’m sold. so damn pathetic.”

you know it’s exactly why he refused to even glance your way when he arrived and all throughout dinner

he reaches out to rub the shell of your ear between the pad of his thumb and index finger

you rub the side of his thighs. look up at him. press a kiss to his thigh through his slacks

you reach for his belt

glance up at him for permission

all he does is stare at you

“please,” he whimpers, encouraging you to keep going

you unbuckle his belt and pop the button open

pull the zipper down

he pulls his pants down

growing bulge in his boxers

you rise to your feet

hunch over, place one knee beside his thigh

press your lips to his neck as you palm him through his boxers

softly and gently squeezing

feeling it harden under your hand

“fuck,” he whispers

and somewhere

somewhere deep inside

there’s a voice

that shuns you

there’s a tightening in your chest

the tightening in your chest

is guilt.

it’s guilt.

you’re start to feel guilty.

are you using sex to get him to forgive you?

because if that’s not the case

you’d have to confront yourself and the fact that you want to do this because you still love him.

to be continued

⇠ PREV. ⋆ MASTERLIST ⋆ NEXT ⇢

— enjoyed it? you can always show your appreciation by buying me some coffee if you want ☕︎♡

@pamzn @jknoah @ahgasegotarmy116 @jaiuneamesolitaiire @Teddytaee @pnkmyg @yoongallery @agustdswifey @purp13st4r @busanstarkoo @busanboykoo @kookssecret @p34rluv @xumyboo @jojowantstocry @minjenna @codeinebelle @Futuristiclovedreamland @rirushu @taegicity @namgihours @ultminyoongi @swinterr @butterymin @partyparty-yah @bettybloop @secfir @coffeedepressionsoup @keroppitae @manuosorioh @whoa-jo @etaerealboyv @kaiparkerwifes @luvjiminandyoongi @luvbeomkai @petalsofink @paradiseyoongies @gaby-93 @MMFranklin @llallaaa @vickyyy97 @osakis-gf @luna-astro-star @shabbamadapot @rrrapmonste-rr @jjeonjennie @yoongisducky @s3l3n0phil3 @itsmina29 @namjoonsbuspass @hoseokshobagi @laurenrodr @keshiadeija @acquiescence804 @swga-ficrecs @sato-hana02 @honsoolhour @kimseokgen @Imene1609 @joonsmagicshop @yunki-yunki-yunki @ellesalazar

242 notes · View notes

seiya-starsniper · 1 year

Note

For the blossoming romance asks: 18? 💜

Cecccciillllllll thank you for this lovely ask, I had so much fun writing it 💖💖

Bit early for Saturday, but this fill does kind of fulfill the prompt "Touch Starved" for Dreamling Week too 👀

blossoming romance writing prompts

--------

hello/goodbye hugs that linger

Hob Gadling, Dream has found, is rather fond of hugging.

At the end of a long night spent conversing at The New Inn, Hob had wistfully asked Dream “a hundred years, then?” perhaps expecting the same answer Dream had provided him for the last 600 years. But his time imprisoned has changed him, and so Dream instead says,

“I’ve heard that friends meet more often than merely once a century.”

The smile on Hob’s face grows slowly. It starts with surprise and wonder, a slight quirk of the lips, as if the immortal cannot believe what he has just heard. Then it grows into a blinding thing, full of teeth and unrestrained joy.

“Next week then?” Hob asks. “Perhaps next Saturday at 7pm?”

Dream thinks of his duties, of all the rebuilding he must do for his realm, of the still missing dreams and nightmares, and the vortex that is threatening to destroy the very fabric of the universe.

“I believe I shall be able to make it,” Dream answers, a small smile creeping up his own face.

“Wonderful!” Hob exclaims. “I shall see you here again, then.”

When they stand to depart the pub, Dream finds himself suddenly enveloped in warmth and the smell of old wood smoke and beer. He freezes, uncertain at first of what is happening until realization dawns upon him seconds later.

Hob is hugging him.

Dream does not know for how long Hob embraces him, but it is over too soon for his liking when the man releases Dream from his hold.

“Sorry, probably should have asked first if you were the hugging type,” Hob says, suddenly shy and refusing to meet Dream’s eyes.

“I…I am not sure that I am,” Dream answers honestly. “It has been some time since someone last held me. At least a century, if not more.”

Hob’s eyebrows raise suddenly, alarm written all over his face.

“There’s a story behind that, isn’t there?” he asks, and Dream can feel the ache in Hob’s voice as he voices the question.

Dream nods. “I am not ready to tell it, yet. Perhaps next week. Or the week after.”

“However long you need,” Hob reassures him. “I’m not going anywhere, my friend.”

On the evening before their next meeting, Dream is exhausted. He has unmade his favorite creation, killed a dream vortex, fought with his favorite arcana, and discovered his sibling had intervened in his realm in a petty attempt at sibling rivalry. All within the span of a week.

—

It is. A lot.

Dream considers canceling their meeting. Reaching out to Hob in a dream and asking to postpone their appointment until Dream can collect himself and feel less unmoored.

But Saturday comes, and Dream finds himself standing just outside The New Inn, contemplating why he has not yet entered.

“My friend!” he hears from directly behind him.

Dream turns and there Hob is, dressed in an outfit similar but not exactly the same as the one he wore last week. The brown leather jacket is the same, as are the shoes, but his trousers are a different color and he’s wearing some sort of graphic tee shirt instead of a plain white one.

“Hello Hob,” Dream greets, trying his best to smile, despite his exhaustion.

Hob’s brow furrows. “Are you all right, my friend?” he asks, concerns clear in the tone of his voice.

“I am…fine,” Dream answers though he is anything but.

Hob huffs disbelievingly. “No, I don’t think you are,” he says. “Ah fuck it.”

Hob pulls Dream into his arms and Dream gasps at their sudden closeness. Hob still smells like old wood smoke, and Dream wonders if this is his natural scent, or if it is some sort of cologne he wears, whose purpose is to drive Dream to madness with how much he wants to inhale it.

Dream’s exhaustion lowers his inhibitions, and before he can think better of it, he finds himself wrapping his arms around Hob’s back and burrowing his face into the other man’s shoulder. He thinks the wood smoke smell is strongest here, in Hob’s jacket, and he wonders what Hob has done to imprint this smell into the material.

“There, there,” Hob says, rubbing smooth circles into Dream’s back. “I’ve got you, old friend. I have you. I’m here.”

Dream finds himself clinging to Hob, perhaps more than is socially acceptable amongst humans, but the other man doesn’t seem to mind. They stand there, just holding one another, until a bar patron from inside emerges, forcing them to break apart and move away from the entryway to the pub.

“I don’t think the pub is the best place for our meeting tonight,” Hob says, once the other person is out of sight. “My flat is not too far from here, if you don’t mind a walk? I’ve got a bottle of mead old as Queen Elizabeth herself in the fridge. I think you may need it.”

“I believe,” Dream answers, his tongue heavy like molasses in his mouth, “that you may be correct.”

Hob smiles. “And I can hug you all you want in the privacy of my living room.”

“I would like that,” Dream says, and finds that he means it. Already his heart is lighter after Hob’s embrace, and perhaps it will grow lighter still, with each subsequent one, given freely, by his oldest friend.

#dreamling #dream x hob #dreamling week #the sandman #seiya writes #I too would like a hob gadling hug pls #seiya drabbles

418 notes · View notes

missmonsters2 · 1 year

Text

First/Second Date Jitters | WDoE Epilogue 1

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Fem!Reader/OFC

Summary: As Wednesday promises, she re-plans the date the two of you missed. She's meticulous in planning every aspect because if you don't show up this time for whatever reason, she might chain you to her for the rest of your life.

Warnings: Fluff. Enid, playing bodyguard. Wednesday, is overbearing. Scream crossover? Text message posts.

Series Masterlist | Library Blog | AO3

Reminder there’s no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘

Note: i love these two idiots.

Part 10

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"This is really unnecessary."

"Don't move," Enid stops painting your nails for half a second to give you a look before resuming. "And don't blame me. Wednesday's the one who's all paranoid about leaving you alone."

You give a nervous chuckle.

You've only started returning to class recently after reviewing all the notes Wednesday took for you. You were lucky enough to be either given an extension on assignments you missed or given a pass since you were a stellar student.

Things are slowly returning back to normal. There had been plenty of gossip about Henry's expulsion. Of course, given his family's status, bail was posted, which his father immediately paid so his son could be locked in his own home. There won't be a trial as Weems was very firm about what would happen if Morrison Sr didn't work to take a plea bargain.

It was only two weeks in that Wednesday declared you were to meet her this Saturday at 7PM sharp, and if you were even half a second late...there would be consequences. You smiled at Wednesday, kissing her cheek at the time, thinking her antics were cute.

But unfortunately, with Saturday here, you find yourself unable to have a moment alone. Enid has been with you all morning, not letting you out of her sight for even a second. Not even when you went to the washroom.

"Are you sure you don't have anything better to do? I thought you were also supposed to be having a date with Ajax today. I'm just going to hang out here," you offer Enid. It's rare to see her without Yoko or Ajax.

Enid sighs. "No, it's fine. Ajax's been busy lately." Enid gives you a look, a quirk on her brow. "And you hanging out alone was why you got fairy-napped last time. Wednesday will erase my existence from this universe if I leave you alone here, even if it's in our room."

You can hear the forlorn dejection in Enid's sigh, and you look at her curiously. "Are things not going well with Ajax? I thought things were going well just a few weeks ago."

Enid scrunches her nose, seemingly trying to focus on painting your pinky nail. It's silent initially as the normally exuberant werewolf gathers her thoughts.

"It's not..." Enid sighs with mild frustration, letting out a puff of breath. "It's not that it's not going well. It just feels like we're...drifting. Ajax has his friend group and after-school activities, and so do I. All we seem to do when we hang out is make out, which, don't get me wrong, was awesome at first. But now..." Enid's voice drifts at the end.

"It's not enough?" You offer, and Enid reluctantly nods.

"Why don't you ask him on a date?" You suggest curiously. Enid was so outgoing; you couldn't imagine her not asking someone out if she wanted to.

Enid purses her lips. "Well, the thing is...I feel like I was the first to tell him I was interested and basically hinted he needed to ask me out on a date. I just want him to, like, take the initiative for once."

"I see," you hum, mulling over the blonde's answer. "Then, will you break up?"

"You ask really hard questions," Enid groans, gently setting your hand down now that she's finished painting your nails.

You study them, admiring the black nail polish with a white accent on your ring fingers. On the white nail, Enid had drawn nail art of wings in black. It was simple, yet you found yourself feeling joyful.

"Thanks, Enid," you smile at her, and Enid beams at you back.

"To answer your question," Enid puts away the nail polish and adjusts herself to sit more comfortably while you're careful not to smudge your nails. "No, I'm not going to break up with him. I just...I guess I'll need to talk to him first."

"Very wise."

Enid pinches your sides, which causes you to yelp in surprise. "Alright, miss bliss, I get you're on cloud nine with your relationship." She gives you a warning look. "Don't tell Wednesday."

"You don't want your boyfriend to become roadkill?"

"Where would Wednesday get a car?"

"I'm sure my girlfriend will be the first person to use a Poe Cup boat to turn someone into roadkill."

Enid gags a little, dramatically throwing herself back onto her bed. "I think I'd rather her just nailgun his heart..."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Wednesday stares at the space before her in deep, analytical thought. She plans to recreate what she's done the evening the date was originally supposed to happen had you not been taken.

Only this time, Wednesday was planning to have the date in your room instead of hers and Enid's. There was a particular appeal about having the space and time alone with you, uninterrupted by the possibility of Enid returning to their shared room early for whatever reason.

Wednesday has noticed that her roommate spends less time with her boyfriend. But since she had no desire to get into that conversation about Enid's feelings unless there was a reason to murder, Wednesday wasn't going to bring it up.

Wednesday feels a tap on her ankle, and she looks down to see Thing pointing at the small gap between the end of your bed and the wall.

"Good idea, Thing," Wednesday praises as she lifts the screen projector and angles it so that it will fit between the spaces.

Your wings were still healing, and Wednesday considered the fact that having the space for you to lie around with your wings out would be beneficial.

Honestly, it would've been better to utilize your studio space, but you've been weirdly insistent about being holed up in your room as of late. A part of Wednesday wonders if it's because you're reluctant to return to your space that no longer feels safe.

The thought of it has Wednesday gripping the pole of the projector tightly, wishing she had done more than gouge out Henry's eyes. She should've taken out his tongue and his thumbs as well. Wednesday feels regretful.

"Thing, did you get the lights?"

Thing scuddles to the corner of the room before he starts dragging out a plastic bag.

"And where did you get it?"

There are some hand gestures, and Wednesday scoffs. "Of course, Xavier would have them. Grab the tape and we'll start hanging these up."

While Thing is busy, Wednesday mulls over what's been nagging at her for the past half hour.

It's not that Wednesday feels fear. No, fear is irrational, and it was definitely irrational to dread not knowing your whereabouts when she knew Enid was with you.

Still, Wednesday pulls the phone out of her pocket, glaring at the stupid device. She sees that she has multiple texts from Eugene and Xavier that she ignores before she shoots you a text.

Immediately, there's a buzz from under your pillow.

Wednesday promptly walks over and sticks her hand under your pillow, swiping until she hits something solid. When she retracts her hand, she finds your phone in it. Her eye momentarily twitches as she lets out a deep, annoyed sigh from her nose.

Wednesday shoots another text from her phone, and the reply is prompt.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"OMG, I can't wait for you two to get on with your date," Enid groans, tossing her phone further down the bed.

You turn your attention away from Enid's laptop screen. Enid says that if Wednesday was culturing you on murder-y films and documentaries, she would catch you up on pop culture. Hence, you were currently watching Mean Girls with a deep interest.

"What's wrong?" You ask Enid, eyeing her phone that seemed to buzz every fifteen minutes for the last hour.

"What's wrong is that your girlfriend is psychotically paranoid that I can't keep you safe and you've forgotten your own phone back in your own room!" Enid grabs a pillow and smushes it against her face. "This is why having a phone is important! But I almost want to kill Xavier for getting Wednesday one. Only she would be able to find a way to torture me with my beloved technology."

You give Enid an amused look, reaching to grab her phone. You swipe at the notification, but the passcode screen comes up.

"1031, it's when Yoko and I became friends," Enid's answer was muffled by her pillow.

You merely raise your brow at the information but enter the passcode.

The text you see...baffle you.

You can't help but slightly laugh while Enid glares at you, tossing a pillow at you but carefully ensuring it isn't too rough.

"Laugh all you want, but I have half a mind to make you late for your date tonight. See how funny you think it is when Wednesday chains you to her for the rest of your life. Think how easy it will be to go to the bathroom in that situation."

You stop laughing.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

6:50PM.

Wednesday carefully checks over her preparations for the last time. The food was hot, the movie marathon was set up, and Wednesday turned on the fairy lights while Thing turned off the ceiling light.

Wednesday opens your window slightly, knowing you like a light breeze before she lit the candles she placed around your room.

The time grows closer, and Wednesday feels antsy as she thrums her fingers against your desk.

Wednesday has to refrain from texting Enid again. She admits she enjoyed torturing Enid with her timely texts, but eventually, her roommate put her foot down and told Wednesday she would text if there were any issues and then stopped replying.

This was why phones were so unreliable.

"Thing—" Wednesday starts to say, but the disembodied hand is already scuttling off to go grab you. She sighs and relents that she was just ensuring you would arrive in a timely manner—a minute earlier even.

Wednesday waits near the door with her arms crossed over her chest. Minutes pass, but soon, she can hear multiple footsteps. She hears your soft and melodic voice, and the tension in her shoulders seeps out.

How annoying.

But when your face is the first thing Wednesday sees at the door, she feels like she can exhale. It's like the satisfying feeling of executing a well-planned strategy, and it might as well have been to make sure you got here.

"Hi, Wednesday," you greet her with a smile on your lips, clearly happy to see her.

Wednesday nods, but then Enid's face pops up in front of yours, grinning all wide and excited.

"O-M-G!" Enid squeals. "I still can't believe you planned all this even though it's the second time I'm seeing this. I'm so proud of you, Wednesday!"

"Thanks," Wednesday deadpans. "Now, leave."

Enid scrunches her nose at her roommate, making a disapproving click of her tongue. "You're welcome for playing watchdog today, BTW. You owe me, Addams."

"And I'm sure you will come to collect, but not today," Wednesday grabs your wrist and pulls you into the room. "Bye." Wednesday shuts the door.

You adjust Wednesday's grip on your wrist, letting your fingers trail along the inside of hers before they fall together like puzzle pieces, slotting together perfectly.

Wednesday turns to look at you, her face blank, but the way her long lashes kiss her eyelids as she blinks enthralls you. The way her eyes trail your form, taking in every last bit, makes you smile.

"I made it in one piece, see?"

"Debatable."

You chuckle, looking around your room, feeling something settle inside you at the obvious amount of effort Wednesday put in.

Turning back to your girlfriend, you notice that Wednesday seems tense, and you realize she's waiting for you to say something. You squeeze her hand.

You lean close to her, biting your bottom lip at the way Wednesday tilts her face toward you.

"You're so dreadful," you mutter, wanting to compliment her in a way she would find flattering, and you think you saw the corner of Wednesday's lip twitch upward.

"Flattery will get you nowhere," Wednesday raises her brow at you.

"Oh, I don't know," you smirk. "No harm in trying."

You're just about to kiss her when you see something from the corner of your eye. You smelled it when you walked into the room, and it smelled delicious, but you had been distracted.

But now...

You stand straighter to look. "Is that a makeshift stove on my desk?"

"We will be having sea witch paella."

You smile but then notice something missing from your desk. You turn to Wednesday with a raised brow.

"And why did you use my picture with Bianca as kindling?"

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"I'm surprised you went with this movie choice."

Wednesday sighs, partly in revulsion at the screen. You were lying on your stomach in bed, your wings out and Wednesday massaging medicine into it as you went back for seconds on the paella. It's gone late into the night, and the two of you have binged through several movies.

"Xavier was adamant that we watch the movies as the 6th one came out and they'll eventually try to ambush us into a movie night with them."

"I mean, it's kind of fascinating, don't you think?" You tilt your head at the screen just as someone is getting stabbed.

"Fascinating in the sense that it's painful to watch everyone in this franchise be so incompetent," Wednesday counters, but then smiles. "But it's amusing.

You laugh as Wednesday finishes working on your wings and sit up, placing your empty bowl on the coffee table. "Well, I do suppose if we were in Scream—not as supernatural beings, mind you—Ghostface wouldn't stand a chance against you. Unless you were Ghostface, then maybe it'd be a different story."

"Please," Wednesday scoffs. "If this amateur can kill this many people, it'd be dreadfully boring for me."

"Oh?" you grin at her. "So, you'd rather be one of the good guys?"

Wednesday's expression quickly morphs into disgust and disbelief that you'd insult her like that.

You laugh again but shake your head. "I would hope you'd stop Ghostface because I would definitely die."

"You're that pathetic that you'd let some fool kill you?" Wednesday shook her head. "You might as well let me end your misery then."

"I will be honest," you nudge Wednesday's shoulder, moving your arm to loop through hers as you pull her close. "I'm unfortunately nearly useless without my wings and powers, as I've never known otherwise. I can't imagine I'd do well as a normie if someone tried to kill me."

Wednesday is silent, seemingly in deep thought about your words.

You hum. "But maybe I'll be like Tara, which is funny because she kind of looks like you."

"Who?"

You chuckle, nudging your head towards the screen. "The girl that got stabbed in the beginning and is fighting for her life in the hospital right now."

"She's not awful," Wednesday concedes. "Whimpering and feeble, but I suppose she survived."

You were starting to lose interest in the movie, but in all fairness, you've sat through four movies in a row. You begin to lean over Wednesday, hovering over her as you trap her between your bed and arms. Your wings hide her from the world, and despite Wednesday having a neutral expression, you have a glint in your eye at the way she has her hands on your waist.

"Well, quite honestly, I'm not that worried. Ghostface should be smart enough to not mess with Wednesday Addams' girlfriend. What do you think?" You grin at her, and Wednesday looks annoyed that you seem to be gloating but also is begrudgingly in agreement.

Wednesday rolls her eyes before she slides one hand behind your neck and pulls you closer until your lips just brush over hers. There's the sound of screams and stabbing noises in the background, and Wednesday can't think of anything more romantic to set the mood.

"Correct. I'll kill anyone who even thinks of touching a single hair on your head."

EPILOGUE 2

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Hope you enjoyed! :)

Temp taglist is still open for 25 more people to be notified when the oneshots and sequel is up! Comment or reblog on this post only or part 10 to be added (pls don't send to my inbox bc i will miss it 💔) you can still always follow my library blog for notifs @missmonsters2-library

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams imagine #wednesday x reader #jenna ortega x reader #wednesday addams fanfiction #wednesdayedit #wednesday addams x you #mm: my fics

686 notes · View notes